Monthly Archives: July 2004

At this very moment, here is the most exciting thing about being in NYC. holy crap, street jazz

Marie and I are exploring downtown. I photograph a man wearing a period sheriff’s costume, and holding a shotgun. We turn away; the gun goes off. We duck and cover. The last time I heard a gun so intimately, the … Continue reading →

Greetings from 1852. I am dialing up on a dinosauric Hewlett Packard from my mother’s home in Cheyenne, Wyoming, the place where I grew up and the place I do not call home. I flew to Denver from Portland, and … Continue reading →

The callouses were never like they are now, even at my brow-furrowest simulacrum of Satoko Fujii—pouncing keys and chord clusters, aspiring to atones—as pianist/bellwether in the Ghosts of Women Who Haunt Cliffs. I have liberated something like 3000 CDs from … Continue reading →

Who knows how to throw a party? Our house. Thanks to 300 people for leaving beer cans in our backyard in an organized pile. Thanks to the neighbors for not calling the cops ’til 4:30 am. Thanks to Shayla and … Continue reading →

My brain is still operating at amputee mode; I’ll mine deeper when I have cavernous hours in Wyoming to reboot. Last night, I was describing Cheyenne to some friends, that we regularly hosted high school parties at abandoned nuclear missile … Continue reading →

The masses will be glad to know that after three columns, one nasty beef with Davey D, and countless offers for reconstructive “surgery,” Dan “Oklahoma” Savage has retired his post as hip-hop scribe. Even better news: his replacement, Larry Mizell … Continue reading →

Hilary Duff—scrubbed junior miss for upper-middle-class white America—ranks in the lower eighth percentile of likeable teen queens throughout history, somewhere after the properer cousin of Patty Duke, and a sliver above the chortling best friend off Blossom. (This is due … Continue reading →

My desk is no longer my desk; during this transformation, underneath towering stacks of Atreyu samplers and Ottmar Liebert CD-Rs, I discovered: * a piece of masking tape inscribed with the words “JOE GROSS,” in my handwriting * photo of … Continue reading →

The above represents the portion of my mind, in synapses, that is currently alotted for non-task-oriented thinking. Moving cross-country is a brain drain; whaddya know! Until I can form complete thoughts again, here are swatches of inspiration and resolve: “Don’t … Continue reading →