Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Less than Breaking News

This serves as a mid-week link outpost while I draft up the beginnings of my Ryan Adams column later tonight and will finish and post tomorrow evening.  That should be another 3,000 to 4,000 word rambler that will hopefully take you through a refreshing and not too hot weekend.  But, like I say, it wouldn't be summer without feeling slightly homicidal towards the air, no?

In other blog related news, I'll be most likely taking a break from writing blog posts for much of August in September as I am going to start a major revision of the manuscript of From Here to the Last Mound of Dirt that will require the attention of most of my evenings.  I'll still be trying to schedule podcasts because those require a smaller degree of time and concentration than long posts and columns do.  Some of the possible upcoming podcasts: Discussion of Mad Men with girls I know, Gilmore Girls Podcast Part 2, Teen Wolf podcast, Gabi Wurzel of Tony Castles, Ted Robinson of Forest City, the How to Make Mead podcast, and the Opinions of Jeff Schles/NBA Preview podcast.

You will most likely get another week or two of regular posts in August, but after that I will need the time off to write seriously.  I love my puddlers so I will think of other ways to keep you occupied with material in the dog days of summer.

Anyway, lets get to the links:

- If you enjoy the NBA, I found this interesting link to track all of the recent free agent movement over the summer.  Fun to play around with for sure.

- The Paris Review is obviously one of the most prestigious publications in the world.  However, their interview section is what really makes it stellar in my opinion.  On their website, you can find an entire record of all of the interviews that have been conducted since 1950.  I have found these endlessly useful and the Hemingway interview actually helped to propel me through the last third of my first draft of the manuscript for From Here to the Last Mound of Dirt.

- This is a blog of a girl who I worked with at Brewster Academy. It turns out that she has landed in Brooklyn as well and has a blog that uses the word “puddle” to good effect.  Check it out here.

- For those of you that couldn’t really follow the links that were put up for the Tony Wain podcast the other night, this one is for the official Tony Wain and the Payne MySpace page, while this link is for a legendary live show Tony Wain and the Payne recorded in Asheville, North Carolina.  Both worth checking out obviously.

- If you enjoyed my Mad Men Season 4 Episode 1 recap last night, then you should check out a real pro in Alan Sepinwall, who will be providing insight on the entire season of Mad Men.  He also has a terrific interview with the creator of Mad Men, Matt Weiner, that has Weiner revealing some of his intentions for the upcoming season.

- Here is yet another great article that was provided by the guys at  This link comes from and addresses the current Chris Paul situation in terms of LeBron’s recent Decision and the desire for players to play on “super teams.”

- And here is another good article on the Chris Paul Situation.

- Finally, if anyone has been following all the good press on Gary Shtyengart’s new novel Super Sad Super True Love Story, here is the official New York Times review that appeared Monday.  I’ll be picking it up to check out the competition.

Now I leave you with the mind of Matt Domino circa  February 2003:

Ode to Pastaria (Desolation Song)

I stand outside in cold February weather,
   Breathing smoke into the bitter air,
 Writing my name on bone white sidewalks,
       With cigarette ash.
 Rosetta colored stone columns rise up,
   Holding up the roofs of Pizza Place, Chinee Restaurant
    Bagel Store, and Desolate Auto shop.
    Dozens of oil cans sitting on shelves,
    Will they ever be bought?
                Someday by thickskulled carhead,
          Oh well, we all must have a hobby.
So much loneliness in the generic urban sprawl,
     Empty plastic bags rattle in the wind
 Blowing every which way,
 Rubbing up against rusted over Buicks,
    Flying past the elderly, who stagger with their aged hunched backs
 Through the parking lot to Kohl’s to buy presents, for those who stopped caring,
Losing touch in old age, over long distances
    Of time and space.
  O, how I quiver inside seeing all of this.
    Smoking my Marlboro ever so quickly, trying to escape it.
How does one reach this dead end?
    I don’t ever want to come to it.
I am Algernon the mouse! I can defeat the maze of life,
   I can escape old age hobblings, and mid-thirties sweatpants loneliness,
   Of waiting on the line in Waldbaums,
    To check out my goods while parents scream at children.
   What ever happened to the sweetness of the children’s song?
I hear its effect every now and then from stories,
  Retold by my mother to me over lunches and dinners, and Coca-Cola happiness.
    So far away from my sour drunken happiness, and so glad it is as well,
      For in Coca-Cola I still have the bridge to the beauty of simple childhood,
      And being in the golden lights of home.
Alcohol brings me across to the other side, away from the bridge and childhood,
    Out into the cold nights of life, not at all as pleasant,
       Although certain epiphanies come under the influence that warm me up.

There is no price for these musings anywhere,
   For wherever you go, urban sprawl awaits you there.
Passing through the rich snowy Appalachian mountains and fields of Vermont,
        I spy a Stop N’ Shop parking lot.
Who roams in these pastures during the day, and more importantly at night?
Who howls and moans drunkenly at passing cars trying to understand what it all means?
Who parks in the corner of the vast lot and cries each night?
    I have seen urban sprawl in Montreal, Quebec, and lazy summer Virginia,
      Also in cracked pavement Miami, and green Massachusetts towns.
O the sadness everywhere you go!
  Years ago I was ignorant to it all, enjoyed the metallic rattling of shopping carts,
     As I sat, or held mother’s hand, and loved everything that was.

The blankslate must be filled eventually,
   No canvas is left undone.
Child must separate from the womb,
       Move away from mother and become father to the man.
It is the way of the world.
It is the duty of human.
  Like salmon swimming upstream against the current, we must move in life against the flow,
    Pushing ourselves and beating on ever and ever,
       Until it is time to go quietly into that good night,
    And forget the loneliness of traveling from here to there,
    Or from a Waldbaums to a Stop N’ Shop,
    Or from a Burger King to a McDonald’s
        And remember that the darkness of night can envelop you like the womb.


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