Tag Archive: David Newbould


Yeah, I’m lame, so what?

Well, I’m not quite sure what to say.  I’ve been specializing lately in dull and boring, “low key”, you might call it.  Which is really nice for my mental state, but not so nice for blogging.  The only thing I have to tell you about is the westerns I watched and the bags I knitted. 

However, as I write this, Mick is playing his guitar.  I love the way it sounds drifting in from the other room.  He doesn’t play nearly as much as he used to; I’ve always loved listening to him.  Occasionally he’ll even sing.  I know he doesn’t think he’s all that great, but I love it anyways.  It’s how he proposed, you know.  He’s sweet like that. 

The Kentuckian is on tv right now, and I’m having a hard time watching it because the star, Burt Lancaster, looks a lot like our friend David Newbould.  Maybe I should knit Dave an orange hat like that.  I’ve still been knitting on these damn market bags, two down so far and two more to go.  If I’m feeling industrious, I might try and bust out a fifth one using the leftovers from the other four.  I’ve only got three or four other projects lined up behind it, and only a few weeks left before the show. 

But back to The Kentuckian…I’m only watching it because I watched the movie that was on before it, North To Alaska.  It’s a John Wayne movie that somehow had escaped me before now.  I gotta say, I enjoyed it.  The Duke plays an Alaskan miner who strikes it big with his partner, and agrees to go to Seattle to bring back his partner’s fiance.  When he arrives only to find the fiance has gone on and married someone else, he decides to bring back another girl to help mend his friend’s broken heart.  But of course, The Duke and the girl fall for each other, hilarity and hijinks ensue, and in the end he wins out.  But not before a huge brawl in the muddy streets, complete with goats and drunks and eskimos.  I will say this: I enjoy some good slapstick now and then, but the goofy sound effects really don’t do it for me.  Slide whistles, little birdie noises, the quintessential “boing!” when someone falls down, it’s all just so silly.  I know that may seem very high-brow of me, my apologies.  Other than that, there was a lot of very laughable moments.  I recommend.

I’m afraid to say that tomorrow probably won’t bode much better for blogging on the excitement scale.  All that’s on my agenda is going to the grocery store and…well, that’s it so far.  I’ll try and think of something exciting to do and tell you about.  Enjoy your evening!

I woke up with a song in my head, the line partially ripped off from a Springsteen song.  Then I turned on the radio in the car, only to hear another Springsteen song.  So I figured ‘why fight it?’, and went ahead and plugged in the iPod for the day.  It must just be that kind of a day.  What kind?  I’m not sure yet.  But I’m guessing The Boss will let me know. 

He did already remind me of one of my favorite credos, “No Retreat, No Surrender”.  I needed to be reminded of that today. 

So you probably want to know what I thought of The Residents, eh?  Wondering what you missed?  Well, um…let me start out by saying I don’t think I was at all in the right frame of mind for that show.  It was not what I expected.  I was expecting a show, a spectacle, something amazing and mind-blowing and worth waiting 20 years for.  What I got was a schizophrenic clown and two gimps squealing out a horror-movie soundtrack over a mediocre light show, and I ended up being bored after about 20 minutes.  Those first 20 minutes, though, were creepy and trippy and fun.  But then, instead of taking me somewhere else, expanding and building on that excellent beginning, it just felt like they stagnated into the same thing over and over again for another hour.  And maybe I was in the bathroom when they handed out the good drugs, because everyone around me seemed to really be into the whole thing.  Mick loved it, smiled giddily through the entire show.  I think one girl summed it up best on our way out: they should have played at Elysium.  If I’m going to go to an industrial metal freakshow, I’d at least like to be indoors and sitting down.  Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying it was bad at all.  I suppose in the right frame of mind, it could be really cool.  I just wasn’t there.  I was cold.  I was bored.  I was slightly claustrophobic.  I spent a good ten minutes burying one of my feet in the dirt.  I feel like I was missing something. 

As an aside, what used to be Room 710 is now a slightly generic-looking establishment called Valhalla…someone please tell me this is a bitchin black metal bar!  Not some crappy eurotrash shit as I fear.

I cursed myself later for having that Red Bull during the show, because I hardly slept last night.  The two hours or so that I had were filled with a strange dream involving training with two large Japanese-looking swords and playing a 24-string bass guitar that was 100 years old and cost half a million dollars.  Apparently, according to the infallible interwebs, swords are a symbol of ambition, willpower, or, alternatively, phallic manhood.  The guitar represents passion, and playing it well says that you’re satisfied with your love life.  So if I were to interpret some sort of meaning from this dream, it might be this: now that my love life is completely satisfying and under control, I’m free to learn to weild my ambition and willpower constructively in other areas of my life.  Watch out, world!  I’m comin ‘atcha!  With a katana!

And on one last note, our good friend David Newbould is keeping a blog of his latest tour with Nashville sensation Natalie Stovall.  You should check it out!  http://davidnewbould.blogspot.com.  There’s videos of performances, upcoming dates, and all kinds of other fun stuff.  Go see!

Well, I’m gonna get back to work, but maybe if you’re lucky I’ll be on again later.  Kisses!

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