Sometimes I doubt your commitment to Sparkle Motion.

all dead white boys say god is good.

"if you're not willing to be changed by a place, there's no point in going."

it all boils down to this quoteable phrase

if you love something, give it away

all things go

the trees creak with arthritic arms.

everything is about to break. i'm one inch from all that i can take

its beautiful and sad but its all that i have.


recommended mp3 - Jets to Brazil - Further North

short love with a long divorce
and a couple of kids
course
they don't mean anything

Sometimes in the dark a person will call out, "Where am I?" and really want to know. What must be the nines and tens?

-Amy Hempel

When a favorite old song comes on the radio, I can never hear it past the first few notes. The song, evocative, will take me to the place and time where I first came to hear it. I'll be taken over for the length of the song, and returned when it stops, having missed it, only knowing it was there because now it isn't there.
-Amy Hempel

recommended mp3 - wilco - kamera

create your own visited country map
or check our Venice travel guide

funny lines from the so cal trip.

- If you want to give your *** kicked, go to the Bronx

- I need to take a shhhhhhhhhower

- yeah, your free range (meaning fair game)

- There's haystacks on both ends of the beach (referring to SMOKE stacks)

- What about the whipped cream?

- yeah... it was just a little tap

- Come on you LAZIES!

- I want to hit the beach ball (sad little kid voice)

and some machines are dropped from great heights lovingly

a wild pack of family dogs came running through the yard one day
and as my own dog ran away with them
i didn't say much of anything at all

recommended mp3 - modest mouse - 3rd planet

everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated

recommended mp3 - bright eyes - lua

we waited in the car while my uncle went into the small wooden church. somehow what was meant to be a quick stop turned into a longer stop. endless hungarian conversations. I didn't bring a book so my eyes searched for anything interesting. the sun was almost gone and it gave an orangeish hue to some of the old buildings. the little stream that runs behind the church had settled down to a whisper. the smell of the van, i can hear the dust collecting on the windows. for sometime it was just us on the quiet road. than a man walking a bike came into view. he was concentrating hard on not falling. he was so drunk that he zigzagged across the road. he took probably twenty minutes to get near the van, each of us entertained by his stagger. when he was just passed us, he tried to mount the bike to ride away, the moment his feet left the ground the entire bike collapsed. for a while there was a pile of bike and man allover the road. arms, gears, legs, chains, fingers, frames all moving around trying to right themselves. my uncle has more compassion than i and helps the poor man to his feet. they talk for a while and my uncle offers him a ride home. the man accepts but there is a concern about what will happen to his bike. you don't just leave bikes laying around for anybody to take. at least not on this continent. i volunteer to ride the bike home behind the van. The van takes off and i scramble to catch up, but the moment i put weight on the pedal the chain comes off. i tried to fix the chain but the gears are too close together and won't hold enough tension to make the whole system work. so for quite a while i put one foot on the bike and use one foot to propel me onward like a scooter. this works for a while and i get a kick out of doing this. some little romanian girls are playing in the street as i pass. I yell "howdy!" in my most american voice and it kills me how funny they think this is. they throw their heads back to laugh. after a while the people in the van are frustrated w/me since their pace is so slow. i talk to the van people and its decided that i should hold on to the driver side door and hitch a ride w/the van. i'm a bit nervous about this idea but the scooter thing was getting pretty tiring. i lock my elbow through the driver's side window and were off. the pace starts pretty slow but soon my uncle is driving fast enough to make me uncomfortable. he keeps talking to the drunken man all the while i'm holding on for dear life bracing for every hundred-year pothole, arm cramping up in tension and fear. it seems like a long trip to the man's house but that's probably just my opinion. the summers sun had set and the cool night was already on its way. colors already fading. eventually we slow down and stop at a small house outside of town; there is a field of hay on our right. my uncle got out and we put the man's bike away, he was surprised that the bike was there and when my uncle explained how we got it there the man listened intently. i saw the moment he understood by his expressions. he smiled a big toothless smile put his hand on the side of my face and said some words that have no meaning to me. i smile at his drunked good naturedness, but i don't need any thank yous - this is why i travel.

my heart has thawed and continues to beat

Name's Smalls. Leonard Smalls. My friends call me Lenny... only I ain't got no friends.

There's right and there's right and never the t'wain shall meet


Biology and other peoples' prejudice conspired to keep us childless

[Evelle picks up a pack of balloons]
Evelle: Do these blow into funny shapes and all?
Grocer: Well, no, unless round is funny.

Gale: You understand, H.I.? If this works out, it's just the beginning of a spree to cover the entire southwest proper. And we keep going until we can retire. Or we get caught.
Evelle: Either way, we're fixed for life.

Old man in the bank: Now, what's it gonna be young feller? You want I should freeze or get down on the ground? 'Cause if'n I freeze, I can't rightly drop. And if'n I drop, I'm gonna be in motion.

H.I.: [thinking] If not Arizona, then a land not too far away. Where all parents are strong and wise and capable. And all children are happy and beloved. I don't know. Maybe it was Utah.

did the wine make her dream of a far distant stream
or a bed full of hens or a ghost of a friend

all the while that she wept she'd a gun by her bed
and a letter he wrote from a dry foundered boat

and the train tracks will take all the wounded ones home
and i'll be alone fair thee well sarah james

so we lie on the floor while the radio war
makes its way through the air on a dead market square

and the beast never seen licks its red talons clean
sarah curses the cold no more snow no more snow

--sam beam

transport motorways and tram lines starting and then stoping taking off and landing

im all the man i've ever been

and i will keep on till you agree to come back over
or until
there are x's on my eyes

but the main difference between me and you is that i'm not on fire

"If it weren't for electricity we'd all be watching television by candlelight." - George Gobel


that killed me.

I'll never go to North Dakota



create your own personalized map of the USA
or write about it on the open travel guide

the life and times of an overheated car

the first was a cop who walked from the truck weighing station. I was drifting off to those smooth npr voices. The knock on the window shakes me awake. he's kind of young and he doesn't know what to do. I explain the situation to him, I can tell he doesn't quite understand but after I'm done he says "well if thats it than alright." and he walked back to the weigh station. So i try to go back to sleep and I watch the temp gauge slowly work its way down. After about 20 mins. I'm off again I only last a mile till i'm in the red again. This ones a bit difficult. its on a bridge and it has a slight curve with it. I try to relax like before but a story i heard about some trucker that fell asleep and plowed into a family that had stopped on the shoulder comes back to me and I can only watch the rearview window. I don't wait as long this time and I don't go as far when it gets too hot again. This time I'm right in front of the mitsubishi exit. After a while a guy in a pick up truck stops and gets out. I feel bad cause it took him a while to stop and now he has to walk all this way in the cold. I meet him halfway. He's older than I though he was and he wants to look at the engine. I kind of tell him not to worry about it cause he's not gonna tell me something i don't know anyways. after a while he tells me things i already know and walks back to his car. The nice thing about this one is that the time went by quick and suddenly i'm off the exit and trying to make it over a hill without overheating. I put it in neutral and turn the car off completely. It feels like i'm sledding down a hill as I gain momentum. I love how quiet it is. I can hear rocks pop under the weight of my tires. The road is completely abandonded. after a while of drifting i eventually come to a stop. I had to fight the wheel to get over though. no power steering is great. noone comes to help this stop, but thats ok cause this american life just started and some girls talking about how her mom wouldn't let her go to Disneyland. Just the hotel next door. its really funny. The next stop a cop car pulls right behind me and puts on his lights. he makes people think He pulled me over. He runs my plates for a few minutes and then comes over to ask me what i'm doing with my car along side the road on Sunday morning. His arrogance kills me. I explain it to him but he's not interested. He asks for my license and proof of insurance and runs that too. finally after hes convinced i'm not a murderer he walks back and gives me my I.D. back. "By the way," he says, "You need to get the address changed on your license. Otherwise I could write you a $75 ticket. No big deal this time " He leaves and I watch his car turn into a white dot on the horizon. to protect and serve my butt. My next stop is tough because I no longer have a shoulder on College. I look for a side street and stop it in there. A white sedan follows me in. An elderly coulple on their way to Church. (I gave up on Church an hour ago) They want to give me a ride somewhere but i decline, only a couple more miles. Two more stops left but these are not as easy, the funny disneyland story is over and some guy talking about fasting is on. its painful to hear and hard to sympathize with self enforced torture. anyways my last stop is almost here I roll into the jr. high and look across the street. There is my apartment, only a few hundred feet away. My epic journey is almost over. the usual 38 min journey is almost at the 3 hour mark. the fasting guy is way too much of a whiner so i change stations for a while and settle with an Irish sounding preacher. hes good. finally my car is just cool enough to make the mad dash for home and my car and i roll into our spot and crash with exhaustion. we both win.

recommended mp3 - phantom planet - california

Dear God,

It's weird to think of all the things that have not been keeping up with the times.

Some folks think we're better now. Social evolutions will keep us on a straighter path, as better men use brand new math with no wrong answers.

To tell you the truth I'm just a little bit worried. Do you have some sort of plan? Have you been finally defeated by the cunning of these fully evolved men?

I hear that you don't change. How do you expect to keep up with the trends? You won't survive the information age unless you plan to change the truth to accommodate the brilliance of men...

Sincerely,
a concerned follower.

pedro the lion

one day i am gonna grow wings
chemical reaction
hysterical and useless

i think my favorite word in the english language is sycamore. its great.

One the way up the elevator to easter’s room, my eyes catch a brown stain on the floor. Its actually almost orange. Its like a huge tear drop stain, I try to imagine what caused the stain for a second and then tried to put out of my mind, bad idea. With the sights and smell of this place, its easy to gag. Clean thoughts. Clean thoughts. Look at the ascending numbers. I hate this place so much. I hate this stupid small smelly elevator, I hate the front desk lady with teeth too small and she never knows who I’m talking about. “Hmm. Are you sure that’s the correct name? Easter Soliday……Hmmm…...(long waiting – I wonder if she is even still looking….) Oh here you go; 8th floor, turn right, room 842. Have a nice day.” My eyes wander back to the stain. Has anyone even tried to clean it up? I bet its been there at least a week. It sicks me out, but I cant help but to stare at it. I was so mad when our mom put him in here. I felt like she was just giving him away to a crappy life. Funny thing is, after she put him here, she became a lot less satisfied with her own life. Nothing could make her happy after that. She had tons of time and spent all of it watching the home shopping network and complaining about the garbage men waking her up every Tuesday morning. Hauling away the crap she bought from the home shopping network - every Tuesday morning at seven. The elevator finally comes to a stop and the first thing I see as the door opens is an old man. He’s sitting right in front of the elevator his head cocked to one side; his lips have a blue tint to them. He eyes stare at me unblinking. I move out of his way but the eyes don’t follow. I wonder if he’s dead. Maybe someone was moving him and then forgot about him. Days ago. He has yellow bits of food or something on his chin. We stare at each other for a moment, and I move on. I hate this place.

recommended mp3 - flaming lips - fight test

the only girl i've ever loved
was born with roses in her eyes
and then they buried her alive
one evening 1945
with just her sister by her side
and only weeks before the guns
all came and rained on everyone


recommended mp3 - neutral milk hotel - holland 1945

when all the world becomes ones and zeros and there is nothing analog left, will kids still find the joy of unraveling a cassette tape or vcr tape? i know youve done this. everyone has. the brown thin tape gets lost in the wind, you throw it, unwrap it... for hours and it keeps on going. there must have been miles of tape in there. you kids of the future there are so many things you won't get to experience. i feel sorry for you.

recommended mp3 - low - closer

sometimes it moves so fast i can't feel whats even happening. the G-forces make you sick when combined with the dizzying height. and then its all over. we were the pain, we were the speed, we were the rocket.

each one in awe for they'd never seen a girl so sad and beautiful

recommended mp3 - yo la tengo - speedy motorcycle

even the moon has a darkside

here's the man with teeth like God's shoeshine. his skin is without blemish and the desired golden color. his hair could not be more perfect and his smile is yet to lose. his clothes are the latest fashion and his car is the most trendy. here's the man with teeth like God's shoeshine. he shimmers, sparkles, shines.

recommended mp3 - the long winters - stupid

yesterday i caught a bat.
i could feel it flying around the night before and i think i dreamed about it biting my head or something. its hard to sleep very soundly with a bat flapping above your bed but i was too tired to do anything about it. (read- too lazy). anyways the next morning it had hung itself above the stairs on the third floor. have you ever seen a bat up close? their dark and freaky. i grabbed two t-shirts and tried to catch it while it slept, but it was just a bit too high and when it felt me closing in it took off. it kinda freaked out for a while flying in circles, while i was trying to figure out how to catch a flying bat. (i did remember some chris farley movie, but didn't think it would work.) so i took my t-shirts and twisted them until they were pretty heavy and started swinging everytime it came close. after about 5-6 misses i hit that thing pretty hard and it crashed to the floor with a loud thunk. i wondered if it was still alive as i wrapped it in my t-shirts and took it downstairs. outside i unwrapped my present and the bat was still alive biting my t-shirts to death. i flopped him on the ground and he laid on his belly, wings spread to full length, teeth barred and just laid there. i watched it for a while and wondered how much damage i did to it. was it retarted now? did it forget how to fly? would it have to eat worms and crawl around or something? i left him for a while to pack the rest of my stuff up, when i came back it was gone. so i guess the end of the story is sorta unresolved. i hope he's out there flying around somewhere, eating mosiquitos, flying in girls' hair, having a great time, but maybe my dog ate him.

recommended mp3 - denison witmer - simple man (some 70's cover)

after a few nights of sleeping on the floor, you start to appreciate beds. what a great invention. whoever thought of making some soft structure to permanently sleep on, i applaud you, thats a great invention. like better than the wheel or the hypercolor t-shirt.

this world was made for people who aren't cursed with self-awareness.

recommended mp3 - hayden - neil young song

if a scary huge giant bunny told me what to do, i wouldn't do it.

recommended mp3 - the white stripes - seven nation army

everyones replaceable. especially me.

things i'm starting to think are overrated:
sgt. peppers lonely hearts club band
the lord of the rings
mountain dew
not so cheap airlines
graduate school
Dell Computers
Taco Bell
keeping up on Blogs

recommended mp3 - songwriters llc - beach house

http://www.peoriayounggroup.com/pages/photos.html

some pics of my trip to NY,NY

(singing)
back to school. back to school. to prove to daddy, i'm not a fool.

one week of graduate school and i'm still alive. although I have to admit its tougher than i expected. two back to back three hour classes tend to suck the life out of you. Its not really that much different than normal college. people dress a bit nicer and my classmates are more competitive but its pretty much the same. one week in and i'm buried with work. 3 and 1/2 weeks from now i'll be a happy man. hmmm not too much else to say. still adjusting to bloomington. missing peoria.

recommended album - unwed sailor - the marionette and the music box

waiting in the drive thru line at wendy's yesterday a little yellow spider dropped down on my windshield and started running across it. without thinking i turned on my windshield wipers and in a few seconds the spider was a little mushed ball in the middle of the glass. now you wouldn't think this was a big deal, but suddenly i'm haunted by the idea that inside that mushed-up ball of spider parts is a brain that is still alive. its spending its last few seconds wondering what happened to its eight legs and eight eyes. its pain and agony is unspeakable. its hatred towards me knows no bounds and mixed in, is the overwhelming feeling of injustice. what a fair fight. it bothered me so much i used half a gallon of window spray and tried to wipe it off with my wipers. with each swipe the little yellow ball lessoned, but i could not remove all traces of my crime. this morning i noticed a little yellow dot on my windshield. a remant of a frosty run gone wrong. 

to all the bedroom rockers out there. keep playing. keep pretending your on stage and people actually care what it is your doing. keep experimenting. there is never ending possibilities. change music. try the chord that doesn't fit or make up a new chord that does. give me hope for something better than the best i've heard. there is alternate tunings you could try. play with passion. write with wit. and never give up.
to all the bedroom rockers out there we look to you. save us from ourselves.


recommended mp3 - sam cooke - cupid

My old man always swore
that hell would have no flame
just a front row seat
to watch your true love
pack her things and drive away

david bazan

leave me nowhere far out of sight.
the road of life is nothing like a road at all its more like a forest. you think you know where your going but really you have no clue just all these endless choices and directions. once you've got there you really don't know if its home... its just some spot in these never ending woods. should you move on? should you call this place home? if it was a road you could at least tell if your moving in some kind of direction.
and so i just wander around in the woods watching people move in and out of my area, quietly hoping that theres someway i'll know where i'm supposed to be.

recommended mp3 jets to brazil - little light

Easter and me. Me and Easter. Easter and I. yeah that’s correct. We checked into the hotel late in the afternoon. One of those weird places with only one level (on the ground), and it’s always taking verbal abuse from the highway. I talked the guy at the counter down to twenty nine bucks. He seemed to like the haggle; he probably doesn’t get people like us very often. Our room was clean but smelled like stale cigarettes. Fine. Just somewhere to rest. I crashed on the bed and flipped channels for a while. Easter dumped all his stuff on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. After a while I found myself in that pleasant place between sleep and consciousness. I heard Easter leave the room and found myself thinking that I should go get him or at least watch him, but right about then my sleepy state seemed too sweet and I put it off. ‘he’ll be fine.’

After a while I awoke to a screaming tv. And a groggy head. The sun was starting to set and the room was much darker than I thought it should be. No Easter. I walked out of the room with no shoes or shirt hoping he hadn’t gone off too far. I didn’t have to walk much. On the little bit of grass in-between the office and the rest of the hotel, Easter was playing with a little girl in a sun dress. The sun was finding its way home; giving everything a golden tint. It was still hot though. I sat on the curb and lit a cigarette. I could tell Easter was really enjoying this time with his little friend. He acts so different with kids, like this light goes on in his messed up head. I wish he acted like that with me; it sure would make this trip easier. I could buy some toys like the ones he’s playing with now, but that’s just one more thing to pack and keep track of. After a while the girl’s mom came out and smiled at me. I introduced myself and Easter but he didn’t look up. She said her name was Jeanie and Sara was her daughter. She spoke in a southern accent that bordered a little on white trash. It didn’t matter though; it was the sweetest thing I heard since I left New York. She said Easter was just playing in the grass when they checked in and her daughter just walked right up and offered her toys. They had been playing like that for well over an hour. I smiled and was appreciative she didn’t think him a mentally deranged serial killer. She sat down next to me and we watched our little family; her beautiful daughter, my retarded brother, and a pink toy Volkswagen beetle.

recommended mp3 - dashboard confessional - jamie (weezer cover)

these days rush on. weeks turn into months and my life passes before my eyes. literally. i'll be halfway through my twentys soon. i try to slow down the days. i look for four leaf clovers and take naps on the trampoline. i read books under trees on nice days. i talk late into the night with good friends and bad coffee. and time goes faster yet. the harder i try to slow down the faster everything goes. trips slow things down. NYC awaits me patiently. i'm excited. but i can't mistake leaving for living. i've made that mistake before.

recommended mp3 - herman jolly - windless