randomness personified

bounce right back

As another bit of public service, do you want to know a really good way to bounce back from the aforementioned bad night? Invite unexpecting friends over to watch "Eraserhead." They will first think you to be completely insane but then slowly warm to the charms of Lynchian bizarreness at it finest.

The new DVD release (available only at davidlynch.com) is both amazing and maddening. The print looks better than I could have ever imagined. The unskippable and absurdly long menu intros, however, are enough to make me leary of watching it again. The feature-length interview with Lynch is perhaps more surreal than his masterwork...

in public service

Just in case anyone was wondering, the following is a really bad way to spend a Friday night:

* Home alone
* Drinking far too many whiskey sours
* Listening to Cowboy Junkies and Lambchop
* Reading old e-mails

a candle burning for everything i've ever wanted
a tattoo burned for everything i've ever wanted and lost
i had a long list of names that i kept in my back pocket,
but i've cut it down to one and your name's at the top

won't you share a common disaster?
share with me a common disaster
a common disaster
-m. timmins

hold your head up high

Regular readers are probably as confused as I regarding my schizophrenic relationship with Elvis Costello's recent works. As a record I've slagged "North" as being both boring and lackluster. Yet each time I see him perform tracks from it live I find it to be rather transcendent. Last night large portions of the album comprised what has to be one of the five best EC shows I've ever attended.

Arriving somewhat early, I was able to meet old friends in the lobby of the Beacon. We discussed the absurd t-shirt prices ($35 for a regular shirt, $40 for the baby doll version) and our expectations of a pretty darn good show. We had no clue. I then went into the theatre expecting to take my usual place at the Beacon, fourth row stage left. Nope. Row AA, Seat 101. That, my friends, would be front row center. I was giddy beyond belief (that's not meant to be a bad pun).

The show itself was simply amazing. First up was simply Elvis and Steve. They played a few standbys ("45," "Green Shirt"), a odd surprise ("Home Truth") and then Elvis gave perhaps the most powerful vocal performance I'd ever heard him pull of on "This House Is Empty Now." At the end of the song he stepped to the edge of the stage and belted it out unamplified. Oh, and he was about 6" away from my seat at that point.

The rest of the show is a blur of fantastic performances and the Brodsky Quartet. Amazingly surreal versions of "Rocking Horse Road" and "My Mood Swings" and a cover of Randy Newman's "Real Emotional Girl" were the highlight of the Brodsky's first set with Elvis. A version of "Almost Blue" that literally choked me up (in fairness, that song often does) and a powerful surprise highlighted the second set with the quartet. I had been hoping for Brian Wilson's "God Only Knows." Instead we got Richard Rodger's and Oscar Hammerstein's "You'll Never Walk Alone." Don't laugh. I'm serious. It was simply amazing.

Elvis and Steve returned for a few more tunes including the bluesy version of "Pump It Up" and then closed an amazing cover of "Dark End of the Street."

I said goodbye to a new friend and went into the frigid night to find my old pals. They were nowhere to be found. It didn't matter, though. I smiled all the way home knowing Elvis still has it. Has it in spades...

nothing new here

Page Six reports:

SEN. John Edwards lost some votes in the disabled community the other night when he failed to provide a sign language interpreter during a speech in Rochester, and then patted a wheelchair-bound woman on the head. "It seems that Sen. Edwards lacks disability etiquette," Debbie Bonomo, who has cerebral palsy, said in a news release from the Center for Disability Rights. "Just because I am a woman who uses a wheelchair does not mean anyone should be patting me on the head. That is so 1950s." Edwards spokesman Colin Van Ostern told the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle: "I'm sure his interaction with them was intended to be respectful."

Big deal. Politicos never know how to interact with the disabled. They treat us all as photo ops. Bill Clinton famously dropped to one knee in front of me and said "bless you, bless you" as if I'd sneezed. Michigan gubernatorial candidate once Howard Wolpe asked me if I played basketball. Tom Harkin did an awkward kneel/stand next to me. Newt Gingrich looked as though he was gonna pee himself when I refused to shake his hand.

The only politician who seems comfortable around the disabled? Former Georgia Senator Max Cleland. I wonder why...

just save it, mike

Sorry for the brief dip into drama queen territory.

It is incredibly frustrating, though. The three factors that pushed me over the top this morning? I'm still fighting the same insurance company for reimbursement on a wheelchair that I purchased almost two years ago. Seems that a chair is a luxury item. Second, I'm operating on very, very little sleep thanks to antibiotics. Third, I'm juggling about ten projects at the office. When this little situation popped up this morning I, too, popped.

Sorry (insert sheepish grin and shrug)?

mike, out

Those of you who have gotten used to seeing me out and about at various events in Manhattan had better get used to the fact that I'm now spending my life holed up in my Stamford abode eating Ramen noodles figuring out a way to get out of my swanky lease. Why, you ask? I found out this morning that I owe Stamford Hospital almost $4000 for medical care. It seems that every time I go to the Wound Care Center my insurance is being charged $750 and I'm responsible for $75 of that. Add to that some mystery bill for $2700 and I'm, well, hosed.

going south

As a teenager in the UK I fell in love with the witty music of one Paul Heaton. Best known in this country as the founder of the The Housemartins, his second band still has the fastest selling CD in English history. That's right. "Carry on Up the Charts - The Best of The Beautiful South" moved copies faster than The Beatles. Their US success has been minimal, though, and they haven't had a American record deal for many years. It seems that they're "too British." Out of necessity I've learned to comb the internet for releases and gleen satisfaction from their European successes.

Unfortunately they're also now "too out of ideas." Today finally got my hands on their latest release, "Gawk." To be fair, the band has been going downhill since 1996 but I had high hopes for this disc. I grabbed it on my way to get lunch and hoped to spend some time driving around and bobbing along with the lads. Nope. It simply rehashes sounds, themes and wordplay from previous (and much better) works. It took them four years to create an album that they probably could have cranked out in their sleep. Sad, really.

On a happier note, I did buy Lambchop tickets today!!

random aggression

The following people are sincerely invited to eff off -

* Ralph Nader

* The dude working out in the gym downstairs who leers at me every Sunday morning when I go to get a bagel. Give it a break, pal.

* The crazy woman on the train who kept trying to talk to me last night while I was listening to my iPod.

I do realize that randomness is starting to read like one of Larry King's old columns. However, I'm just too pissed for words this morning. Starting one's day by screaming at Meet the Press is just too disturbing.

salt of the earth

My maternal grandfather emigrated to this country from Finland to work in Michigan's copper mines. It was grueling work but one of the few skills that he came here with. Later he basically conned his way into being employed as a millwright for General Motors by convincing them that he was one in Finland. He wasn't, but within a few years he was training all new millwrights at GM.

By the time I knew him my grandfather was quite old and fairly senile. He passed away when I was seven or eight. All I remember him going on about are the Tigers and the salt mines under Detroit. All these years I basically thought the poor guy was hallucinating about the mines. Nope. There are more than 50 miles of salt highway under Motown. Check out the amazing photos, too.

random babbling

* I'm having some surgery on my foot tomorrow morning. Oddly enough, I'm not too worried about the actual cutting. What I am worried about is being at the hospital by 6:30 a.m. You know when the last time I was anywhere at that hour? Me either.

* I wasn't kidding about losing the Mindspring address. I ordered my cable modem today. mike at mikewolf dot net is the only way to go, kids.

* Rumor of the day - WABC is reporting that the Yankees will offer a contract to Greg Maddux sometime this week. Slash 'n' burn the Bronx. It's the only solution.

and the walls come tumblin' down

My Sunday of leisure (watching Premier League football, reading the Times) was interrupted with a jolt this afternoon. At about 1:45 I heard a very loud crash coming from the upstair floors. I didn't think much of it, to be honest, and went about my day. That is until the fire alarms started going off...

Jostled from my lounging by a police officer, I joined my neighbors outside in the frigid air. What I thought was nothing was actually a pretty big deal. The exterior brick on an outside wall had literally collapsed. We soon congregated in the lobby and stayed there for about three hours to receive occassional updates. Four apartments have very serious damage and we were told we'd probably be spending the night in the Holiday Inn. Eventually, though, those of us without exterior walls (my windows face an interior atrium with plants and fountains) were allowed back.

I know that no apartment building is perfectly managed. Everywhere I've lived has had problems. This place, though, is starting to worry me. It's very expensive and my actual apartment is very nice. The management, though, really don't seem to care about anything other than collecting the rent. This will be the test.

Pictures to follow as soon as I can find my USB card reader...

addendum: We made the news! I can't get the video to work, though, and my pictures are better.

addendum addendum:More coverage here.

there goes the neighborhood

Absurd. Unbelievable. Maddening.

That's about all I can muster this morning.

when you care enough to say the very best

Happy Valentine's Day from your pal at randomness...

Brilliant, brilliant stuff via youyesyou

I don't know how it happens, but Valentine's Day always sneaks up on me. Even in the years that I've had someone to celebrate the made-for-tv holiday with it's been fairly annoying and uneventful. I am a pretty damn romantic guy (or so I like to think) but the whole exercise seems pretty hollow. Like there's one day a year that you're supposed to remember those that you love. For the other 364 they can merely be an afterthought. Maybe it's just my way of coping with the fact that I'm destined to be alone again while everyone else is out swooning. But I really don't understand the concept of taking one day to show the world that you're capable of embracing the one you love.

kids these days

Back in the spring I stumbled into a show at Mercury Lounge and happened to catch a really fun power pop band called Bishop Allen. I liked them muchly and picked up their debut album a while back. It's really fun, if you likey the power pop.

However, there's a pseudo-cover of "Eve of Destruction" on the disc. They use a bit of the melody and couple of lines but rewrite the bulk of the song. It's pretty nifty. However, I was poking around their site and read this...

"Eve of Destruction" was a '60s protest anthem, but it was sung by someone named Barry MacGuire, and it was written by P.F. Sloan...

We hadn't heard the '60s recording of "Eve Of Destruction" until after Charm School was done; our version is derived from The Dickies' cover of the Sloan song, which was a hit for them in '78. We couldn't understand The Dickies' singer, his being punk and fake-English and all, so we wrote our own words.

Err. There are so many WTFs in that statement that I can't even begin to comprehend it.

every vote counts

Here's my official ballot as cast in Village Voice's Pazz & Jop 2003.

Okay. You caught me. That's not really me. They don't care what I think. That Mike Wolf is the music editor for Time Out New York. From time-to-time I get e-mail that's intended for him. I guess they figure that there can't be two music snobs in the Tri-State named Mike Wolf. Guess what? There are.

While we're on the subject, that's an awful list, Mr. Wolf. Dead Meadow is just boring and the rest (with the notable exception of Books and Cat Power) is just hipster electronic rock. No thanks. My Mike Wolf list is still here. It's a lot more listenable.

to everything turn, turn, turn

I meant to comment that yesterday Condoleezza Rice actually made the following statement on the Today show...

"I mean, this is a regime that was shooting at American planes patrolling the No Fly Zone!"

So that's how far they've fallen. They didn't have any WMD but they were shooting at U.S. warplanes with their tiny little slingshots.

When Bill O'Reilly isn't on the administration's side and actually admits he was wrong you know they have a very serious issue...

Fox News Channel's Bill O'Reilly says he was wrong about weapons of mass destruction in Iraq and that's made him more skeptical of the Bush administration as a result.

O'Reilly, who has the top-rated political talk show on cable news, was confronted on ABC's "Good Morning America" about his statement before the Iraq war that if Saddam Hussein is overthrown and there were no such weapons found, he'd apologize to the nation.

"Well, my analysis was wrong and I'm sorry," O'Reilly told Charles Gibson on Tuesday.

"I am much more skeptical of the Bush administration now than I was at the time," O'Reilly said.

be good to yourself, 'kay?

When one deals with as many doctors as I have in my life I guess the odds of working with some bad ones are pretty good. When I lived in Atlanta I went to a world-renowned spinal cord hospital that really was too full of themselves to figure out what was really wrong with me. Another doctor here in Connecticut was equally inept. I finally found a doctor last year that took care of the problem in short order. I was no longer in absurd pain and suddenly had energy.

As some of you know, back in April of 2003 I began to develop a problem with my foot. Since that time I've been going to a reputable hospital on a weekly basis to have it looked at. Each week the doctor basically looks at it, says it doesn't look much worse and says he'll see me back in a week. That's been the pattern for ten months. Frustrated with the lack of progress, I decided to see another doctor. He immediately believed that I had a bone infection and ordered up a round of tests. Guess what? I have two small infected bones in my foot. They've most likely been infected since I had surgery on that foot over twenty years ago. I'm not kidding. The previous doctor, one of Stamford's most respected surgeons, never even contemplated such a scenario. I won't allow myself any "woe is me" response, but it's incredibly frustrating.

Oh, and I also now have a benign staph infection that comes from hospitals but isn't treatable with any known antibiotic. Fun stuff, fun stuff.

So the message here is to be your own advocate. You're entitled to good healthcare. Sometimes, though, those people who you expect to provide it can't or don't. Don't be afraid to question. Don't be afraid to piss people off. You're the one who has to live with the consequences of their decisions and they aren't always the best ones.

random thoughts for a random day

* Is there anything greater than getting a groovy e-mail from someone that you thought you lost track of? I don't think that there is.

* In-line skate wheels (which I use on the front of my chair) come in way too many varieties. Sadly, I once again opted for no lights.

* I received an invitation to a reunion at the school I attended in England. I still can't wrap my head around how they found me.

* When listening to the Elvis' Sun sides compilation "Sunrise" you can literally hear rock & roll being invented. When you listen to the entirety of his '68 "comeback" special you again hear the once lost brilliance and mourn what could have been.

* How can Scarlett Johansson only be 19? Impossible. I think it's some sort of trick.

* Non-skippable trailers at the start of DVDs are the bane of the Earth.

Discuss...

what, what, what?!

Yeah. That's right. I swear I'm going to bite you hard and taste your tinny blood. I'm just that mean. Don't mess.

Or maybe not...

why don’t you ever want to play?
i’m tired of this piece of string
you sleep as much as i do now and you
don’t eat much of anything
i don’t know who you’re talking to
i’ve made a search through every room
But all i found was dust that moved
and shadows of the afternoon

and listen
about those bitter songs you sing
they aren’t helping anything
they won’t make you strong

so we should open up the house
invite the tabby two doors down
you can ask your sister if
she doesn’t bring her basset hound
asked of things you shouldn’t miss
tape hiss and the modern man
cold war and card catalogues
to come and join us if they can

for girly drinks and parlour games
we’ll pass around the easy lie
of absolutely no regrets
then later maybe you could try
to let your losses dangle off
the sharp edge of the century
we’ll talk about the weather or
how the weather used to be

and i’ll cater
with all the birds that i can kill
let their tiny feathers fill
disappointment
lie down
and lick the sorrow from your skin
scratch the terror and begin
to believe you’re strong

all you ever want to do is drink and watch TV
frankly that thing doesn’t really interest me
i swear i’m going to bite you hard
and taste your tinny blood
if you don’t stop the self-defeating lies you’ve been repeating
since the day you brought me home

i know you’re strong.
-the weakerthans, "plea from a cat named virtue"

meow
-alison

hey ya! it's the grammys 2004

One of last year's favorite randomness entries involved the questionable decision to subject myself to the entirety of the Grammy Awards. Well, you can never have too much of a good thing, can you? This year I'm still on antibiotics so I can't satiate myself with the liquor that got me through the 2003 presentation.

So, with no further ado, in the extended entry below I present the 2004 randomness Grammy play-by-play.

7:57 I can't believe I'm doing this again. I see the awards are scheduled to last until 11:30. This could be truly painful. Seeing Elvis in a tribute to Sting could truly be one of the most disturbing experiences of my life. If only I could drink...

8:05 Ugh. Already depressing. I wish nothing more than to have a relevant Prince Rogers Nelson in 2004. It's just not happening. He's back to singing medleys from an album that's twenty years old. I wish I knew what happened to him. Hell, I'm sure he wishes that he knew what happened. He just lost the ability to write at some point. The decision to stand next to Beyoncé was amusing, though.

8:10 The fact that R. Kelly is nominated for a Grammy and not nominated for some sort of prison shower award boggles the mind.

8:14 Roll over John Lennon and tell Tchaikovsky the news. The fat-headed. retarded fuck is singing "I Saw Her Standing There." Vince and Sting actually sound pretty good, though.

8:22 Christina is singing with a gospel choir. This is a joke, right? I'm not a believer but even I wouldn't want to be standing next to her right now. Lightening and stuff...

8:27 Um, whomever that child is she needs to stop letting Gwen Steffani choose her outfits.

8:31 Is it just me, or is Jack White looking more and more like Brandon Lee's character from The Crow? They've been at this for a while now. One would think Meg would've figured out how to keep a beat.

8:35 David Gest recently admitted to receiving 80 botox shots. Somehow I believe Steven Tyler has gotten more.

8:38 I think I could have gotten better seats than Andre 3000. Where the hell was he?

8:50 Somehow I think the low-key, suit wearing Justin isn't a accident. His comments, though, just ensured that Nipplegate continues.

8:56 Celine sings Luther. My own private hell. Patti name-checked Janet and CBS didn't use the five minute delay to edit it out. Surprising. Man, this is dragging the whole show to a crawl. Celine, Luther and Richard Marx. Even better than I imagined. For a minute it looked the world was going to be spared. The feedback was more melodic, I must say.

9:10 I don't know what's more pretentious, Madonna's increasingly absurd accent or Sting's entire person. The dress was edgy in 1979.

9:17 Don't worry, Christina. They're on a five minute delay.

9:26 My eyes are starting to glaze over at the sight and sounds of one Justin Timberlake. I have no idea how I'm going to make it through another two hours.

9:30 Yoko brings the show to yet another screeching halt. You knew there was no way that Macca would be on the same stage as Yoko, didn't you? How long can Paul keep up the bobblehead act before we all realize that he's completely insane?

9:43 Please note that Mr. Timberlake was kept on completely different level of the stage than the female singer in Black-eyed Peas.

9:46 I'm literally shocked that June just won. Wow.

9:55 Beyoncé clearly spoke to the Purple One for too long. This whole set looks like she's recreating a scene from Under The Cherry Moon.

10:02 That's great. Goth Christian rock gets upstaged by gangster rap. My two favorite genres!!

10:11 Earth, Wind & Squeal. I really want to like Robert Randolph but this song is not a good case for musicianship.

10:26 No mas. I just can't do it. It's chock-full of ads and bad music. I'll flip in and out and see if I can catch Elvis. Otherwise, it's off to bed for this boy. I tried! I'll summarize what I mange to withstand in the morning.

10:39 I'm a sucker. I will watch the rest of the show from the comfort of my sofa in the living room rather than in front of the PC. Coldplay was a very nice surprise (I think they were surprised, too) and the Warren tribute will hopefully be nice.

the big question

I'm Tivo'ing Sex and the City tonight so don't spoil it. That said, I see that Chris Noth is making the late night talk show rounds next week. I doubt he's pimping his bar. Methinks Big is back.

welcome to the jungle gym

I've always said that Axel Rose is infantile, but this is a bit too creepy.

i feel like a boy with a problem

Why the hell have I just been in a funk for last couple of weeks? I'm talking borderline depressed. Damn.

I'm gonna blame it on the weather. Sounds good to me. Righty-o. The weather it is.

lost in admiration

"Oh, cripes! Not another 'Lost in Translation' entry!

Um. The behind-the-scenes documentary on the DVD features Bill Murray doing a goofy dance to "Alison" in a fluffy hotel bathrobe. It's a wonder to behold. As is his iPod Beatles debate with Scarlett.

this just in

If you think I'm not stopping at Best Buy on my way home to buy "Lost In Translation" you'd be wrong. A fire in the fireplace, a cup of hot chocolate and home viewing of my favorite film of 2003 (and, on some days, my favorite American film of the last decade). What, I ask, could be better?

addendum - Because your favorite author is a complete moron, our viewing will be delayed until tomorrow. I went to Best Buy and quickly snagged a copy of the DVD and the Stellastarr* CD (damn good, btw). It wasn't until I got home to Stamford in the pouring/freezing rain that I realized that I had bought the effing full screen version. Raise your hand if you complain about the "black bars" and opt for the full screen version of films rather than the widescreen. Okay. Put them down before I mock you. So it's tomorrow. I'll add the pizza, Cass. C'mon up...

making the breast of the situation

So I had a little gathering of people at my home on Sunday to view Super Bowl XIXVCIVIIXXXVIXCIXX. The game was, in my opinion, excellent. Of course that's not what anyone's talking about. We're all obsessed with the "shocking act" of Janet Jackson. Whatever. Call it what it really was, a desperate act by a woman whose career was in a tailspin and surrounded by a family of wackos who were getting a lot more press than she. It was a classic distraction move. Need proof? From the "news" section at janetjackson.com. She's now causing hysteria with her new song...

NEW JANET JACKSON SONG SPREADS LIKE WILDFIRE! “Just A Little While,” a new song from the highly anticipated upcoming Janet Jackson album DAMITA JO, has created a firestorm of interest, starting in the U.S. and quickly spreading throughout the world. Although not officially chosen by the record company as the first single, the unauthorized Internet download of the track has created hysteria, from radio programmers to consumers to Janet’s rabid fans. Due to the overwhelming demand and downloading of the single, the infectious song, co-written and produced by proven hitmaker Dallas Austin, was digitally distributed to radio stations all over the world Monday February 2nd at 7 AM EST.

The song’s release comes on the heels of Janet’s triumphant return to the spotlight with her performance as the featured artist at today’s Super Bowl XXXVIII, where she headlined the spectacular halftime show.

on the rights of spring

I know that most of my regular readers don't give two shakes about baseball. That's why I have other outlets for those endeavors. However, with pitchers and catchers less than six weeks away from reporting to Lakeland the Tigers have landed ten time all-star catcher Ivan "Pudge" Rodriguez. Yes, he's 32. Yes, his best years are perhaps behind him. However, it's taken the Tigers a decade as a team to rack up ten appearances in the Midsummer Classic.

It'll be nice to see someone with a household name weaing the Olde English "D." It's been a long time, baby.