flashingreds...
book 'er prize
(2002-10-21, 11:08 a.m.)
I missed Rhett Miller in St. Louis last night. I had to settle for watching the Bears lose again, then watching the classic �Sweet Dreams,� the movie about Patsy Cline, which J. leant me a month or so ago. I hadn�t seen it in years; they all looked so young. Of course, I was nine when the movie came out, so I�m not quite the same, either. The film was every bit as gripping and sad as I remembered. I may be a devotee of Neko Case, but I have a soft spot for Patsy. It's not swooning, exactly, but it still feels real.

After watching Ed Harris dance to Patsy Cline songs in the movie, though, I�m going to pay a bit more attention to my own dancing at concerts. I fear I just might look that foolish.

Sigh.

Here�s a review of another show we missed, did you? In my own Dave viewing, I did find him delightful and self-deprecating. Does he deserve the accusation of trying to build a Dave Eggers brand name? I refuse to judge.

In other book news, I ran out of reading material this weekend, which drove me to the stacks of my own library to figure out how things were going. Seems I�m nearly caught up reading the books I bought over the summer. So what�s next? Demonology, which I started yesterday. But the problem I have with Rick Moody short stories is that they�re too good. You see, when I finish one story, I�m upset that it�s over, and I need to retreat and chew it over for a bit, which is cumbersome when you�re still in the mood to read.

After that, I simply must invest in The Partly Cloudy Patriot, which I�ve been talking about reading for far too long.

Though I�ve read more this year than I have in many years, I suspect I should read even more. Save my family and friends from putting up with the evil bitch I was this weekend. Or perhaps I should take myself to the doctor, renew prescriptions, figure out why I feel so miserable, and get better. Good heavens, the cat can�t be the only one feeling good. And he is. Or was, until I left him at the vet�s office for the day.

One small item�the best reason to save Fuzzy was that he sorta smacks his lips sometimes when he�s sleeping, just like my dad does when he sleeps. Funniest damned thing, I promise.

And one more small newsworthy item about the publication of some of Kurt Cobain�s diary entries that you can read in upcoming days. You know, when I�m off driving to suburbia for more interview nonsense.