"UNKNOWN MEAT IN A BOTTLE". I had to google some of this stuff, the Oxalis is a New Zealand Yam. Also, why is someone trying to get that much pigeon medicine, or dead rodentia on a plane? Who BYO's a hunk of lard on their plane trip?
And, lastly but not leastly, our little son finally came home from the hospital this week, with a clean bill of health.
Parenthood! It's like that scene in Louis Malle's '68 doc of the Tour De France where during the long uphills in the Alps (or wherever) rotund little Frenchmen, not quite old men, race up alongside the bikers and run with all their might to help push their favorite riders, to help throw them a little further, faster. Sometimes I am the guy on the bike, and sometimes Matt is the guy on the bike and then some nights we are both the fat little Frenchmen ecstatic and pushing.
My review of Liz Phair's Funstyle in last weeks Reader. Harsh tokes for harsh folks in which we discuss MILFs, Lil' Wayne, watching The Box and the similar themes running through her album, MIA's and C. Loves. Big summer for debunking the image.
William Wyatt Clark. He was born on Tuesday. He is still residing at the hospital for a few days but he should be coming home to us soon. He has black hair and blue eyes and is 18 inches tall and is the love of our life.
When I planted the strawberries, the plants were all different sizes and I thought this was some genius thinking on my part, because we would have a staggered harvest between the 6 or so plants. I really thought that was smart thinking. I did not really think "I will have 1-2 strawberries to eat everyday for all summer long". The other day I got five. We ate two and put the other three in the lidded butter zone in the fridge. What to do with five little strawberries? To eat them all at once seemed weirdly gluttonous. I should of put them low, in the crisper to keep them properly but I imagined but three lone wild strawberries would be forgotten anyplace else. In the butter-spot up at the top of the fridge, it's like a museum, a little waiting spot, a micro-harvest purgatory where they await their fate. Or for other little berries join them to come to a quorum. Maybe there will be more today.
The baby is not here yet. We are trying to "spin" him to an optimal birth position with tricks, like long inversions and shimmies and crooked steps. You would think you cannot go upside down when you are pregnant, but you can. Well, I wouldn't think that but seemingly a lot of people do. I have told people this and they are mouth-agape style shocked. It's not like he's going to continue to slide upwards unimpeded and come out my mouth. I dunno whats shocking about it. But then again, sometimes I so much as mention--MENTION, not describe--"labor"--to our up and downstairs neighbors (ladies who are all in their twenties), and they give me the gasface.
Childbirth has been around for EVER, you'd think people would just be over it by now.
Meanwhile, our living room is presently filled with some boxes of diapers and wipes we registered for. You would think 840 baby wipes or 120 diapers is kind of medium small box because baby butts are so small. But they are not. The cats are delighted, as their usual cat-huts have grown to being an Amazon-subsidized suburban subdivision.
Hit it or Quit it podcast turns a dozen! We are 12 shows old! To celebrate, we blew it out. STARS GALORE KEEPING IT REAL. Ted Leo, Craig Finn, Luke from Lucky Dragons, Cali from Teenage Teardrops, Marissa from Screaming Females, David Bazan and MORE. Former VIBE editor, Hit it or Quit it scribe of yore, Sean Fennessy discusses Liz Phair's newly debuted rap skills. Plus, one very special secret guest that you are not going to believe.
Also, you will note that we are on the brand spanking new WBEZ music homepage. Stepping it up! Public radio legitimacy is nigh!
Writing about music is like rapping about architecture?
1987 rap about architecture from 3-2-1 Contact. So good.
We are tasking our baby tasks. We washed all his little clothes. Matt and I put on his hooded baby towels while we folded, Matt got the one that looked like a klan robe, I got the one with the duckhead/bill. We had a hard time figuring out the proper way to fold the little SwaddleMe™ we'd been given. It has curious, small opening in the back around butt area. We are amateurs so we are guessing its so you can check if they need to be changed. My second guess is that it is to strap them into a car seat through there. I suppose we will find out soon enough, when we try to put a seatbelt through/under a shitty diaper. Maybe it is for putting coins in. Maybe the SwaddleMe™ is like a cotton piggy bank for newborns to wear.
We took the brightest animal paintings and art we had and put it in his room. Including the tin Nashville Music City commemorative plate, a couple of Joan's paintings of sharks and suchand the Corita I Love You print. I wonder what these will do for him. I had a poster for a gallery show, in my room, maybe from age four to six, of these animals standing on each others backs. It was a painting and it's the reason that pretty most every painting I ever made is stacked up animals, or stuff on top of pigs or dogs. I wonder if our kiddo will make art. If he will draw jubillitated cowboys and horses with windy hair because that's just what we thought would be cute in his room.
I wrote up that Kelis record I love in this weeks Village Voice. Mom-disco iz my jam.
Spreadin' the word: The Need and Bangs are reuniting, with other OlyWA bands, for a mini-tour--all proceeds got to help pay for Natalie Cox's cancer treatments. Natalie is OG riot girl stock, played in Old Haunts, former Kill Rock Stars employee, mom to a three year old--you can donate and read her blog here. She is pursuing some radical, alternative therapies and treatments for a rare and aggressive form of cancer and needs whatever $ you can spare. There are also benefit tour posters for sale via that first link if you wanna nab one.
PASS IT ON!
While not exactly enlightening, this Everything I learned about love I learned from Pavement article certainly explains every date/boyfriend I had in the mid-late nineties.
Matt has been doing most of the nursery set up and when I went to go put something on the shelf I noticed that he snuck some non-baby fodder in there.
My other pride and joy.
EL-P Bieber death mix.
My earlybird M.I.A. review is up and out at the good ol' Chicago Reader. Probs my last long bit for the Reader til the fall, trying to jam on all my assignments doubletime before the very young man comes into our world, as there is no such thing as "maternity leave" when yr freelance.