Rambling down the aisle

I’m like a recovering alcoholic with this blog: I fall off the regular posting wagon with alarming regularity, and then return with renewed vigor and commitment to frequent posting only to repeat the cycle once again. But with the wedding on the horizon, a date all but set, and a scant three months before Mich moves back to Houston, I might as well take another swig of the Blog Juice.

- Survived Ike safe and sound, thankfully without damage to the apt. Power was out for two weeks, so I stayed with my folks in Katy. The commute from The Boonies was great until the second week, when I-10 became the world’s largest parking lot. Being at the Chron during the storm recovery was a rush, and definitely a career highlight for me. (no, not just my not-even-half-year time at Texas St. The whole post-college career)

- Pleased with how the Astros finished the season, Ike notwithstanding. Resign Wolf and pick up another free agent pitcher, and we’ll be more than ok going into 2009. Also, someone please remind Hank Steinbrenner that the NL Central is baseball’s toughest division, not the AL East.

- Wedding planning is fun. Seriously. When else do you get to pick your own liturgy?

- Also, for the Ausmus-loving ladies in the readership, go to www.astros.com and view the tribute video that played before his last game here. Jeff Bagwell: great 1^st baseman, lousy comic timing.

- Bachelor party + friends who home brew = win.

- Among the songs that would be hilariously wrong as a wedding dance song: Better Man by Pearl Jam, Smack My Bitch Up by Prodigy, I Married Her Because She Looks Like You by Lyle Lovett, Fat Bottom Girls by Queen, I Will Survive as covered by Cake (now with 100% more F-bombs!), and I Love You Because I Have To by Dogs Die In Hot Cars. There are more. Lots more.

- I’m getting a custom shirt made at Billy Reid for the wedding. I’m way more excited about this than I should be. Now if only I could find a solid black suit with flat front pants, three buttons, and narrow lapels, and a skinny, black tonal-paisley tie.

- The Chron’s post-Ike power database was the best sociology experiment I’ve ever seen. The mood swings, the petulance and lack of perspective were all appalling and hilarious at the same time. Centerpoint, et al. did a helluva job in the days after the storm; they just need a new PR strategy and more honest customer service.

- Not especially blown away by the new St. Arnold’s Divine Reserve. It’s not bad, it’s actually quite good. But it’s not the home run in the way that the last two were.

- After becoming enamored with The Hold Steady after buying their “Boys and Girls in America” album, I’ve lately come to realize that their first album “…Almost Killed Me” is my favorite of theirs. Raw and rugged where their recent albums are more cohesive, confident and technically adept, the songs just fit their Midwestern bar band persona a lot better. It’s an uglier world, but it’s more exhilarating because it’s more scary.

- Finally, since it is Schadenfriday, I only have this to say to every Cubs fan who brought a sign cheering for Ike to the Astros’ “home” games in Milwaukee: do not tempt the Baseaball Gods, for they are cruel.  Have another lonely October, jerks.

So these are the soundtracks, the distractions and pressing concerns (minus a few unpublishable concerns) that are rattling around in my head at the moment. Naturally, as the wedding gets closer, this space should get a little bit more newsy, unless I’m just too busy to post.

This Was Supposed To Be Coherant

But when you start off the week with a migraine, your ability to put together anything that even remotely resembles a cohesive narrative definitely suffers. So what you’re left with is another rambling blog post about nothing in particular, but everything in general. Which, I suppose, isn’t all bad. So here we go:

- I need to write here more often, if only to remind myself what it’s like to write in first person. Having to use the royal “we” over at Houstonist is like nails on a chalkboard at times.

- Not that I’m complaining about Houstonist, mind you.

- Thanksgiving was nice in a “good grief, how’d I get so tired?” kind of way. When your compass points to Conroe and Katy and points in between all weekend, with precious little chill time, you end up longing for Monday if only to get out of your damn car.

- Not that I’m complaining about Vesper, mind you.

- December looks about as busy, but spread over a longer time period. Which is good, I guess. After spending the past couple of years celebrating my birthday in a pretty laid-back fashion, my birthday falls on a Monday (free beer at the Saucer!) and the lovely Miss McNamara is planning something delicious. Should be fun.

- Not that I’m complaining about my birthday, mind you. (I have no idea how long I can keep this up)

- I’m seen as something of an authority on baseball within my social circle now. How crazy is that? Sure, it seems as though I’ve got a stronger handle on what the Astros are doing this offseason than Richard Justice does (does he snuggle up at night under a blanket with Chris Burke’s face on it? and does that blanket swing at bad pitches like it’s going out of style?) but I’m hardly a real expert. Unless….*runs to see if he can interview Ed Wade*

- Not that I’m complaining about the Chronicle’s sports coverage, mind you. (actually I am. this whole conceit dies here.)

- One of these days, I’ll actually interview a band or person on Houstonist that I’m not friends with, or where I have no previous connection. Until then, time to review Monica Pope’s new restaurant!

- I found my ticket stub from the Explosions In The Sky show in March (!), and that got me to thinking about the shows I’ve seen this year. Here they are, as best I can recall: Mute Math, Explosions In The Sky, The Hold Steady (with Illinois), Okkervil River, Guy Forsyth (3X), Trout Fishing In America, Junior Brown, The Avett Brothers, Girl Talk, Nickel Creek (2X), Zookeeper (2X), Ethan Durelle (2X), Two Tons of Steel (2X), The Church of Philadelphia (2X), Hollywood Black, and last but not least, Meryll. Throw in Asylum Street Spankers and possibly This Will Destroy You to finish the year, and the hits outweigh the misses (Bloc Party, Spoon, etc.) by far.

- New Favorite Nickname: Mr. Tummnus. This one will be nearly impossible to top. Especially when it’s delivered with the lisp of a 9 year old.

- Why oh why can’t we get these in the States?

Ok, that’s enough rambling. I will update more often because we are tired of we.

Loose Ends

Well, I’ve successfully procrastinated on several topics to the point that I won’t be able to do any of them the justice that they deserve. Instead, you, o patient reader, will get a half-assed summary of the past couple of weeks. It’s just that I’ve been reeling from my devastating loss in the Ladies… bracket and getting out of bed was hard enough. (yeah right.)

First up, the Hunniford wedding in Columbus and the road trip that it necessitated. The things I’m most proud about here: I can finally say that I know how to drive a manual transmission, I saw the Chunky River (it flows with Campbell’s Big Beefy Potato Stew), and I tried Skyline Chili. But most importantly, two of my favorite people were finally united in holy matrimony, ending the awkwardness of what on earth to call the house that they purchased this spring together. “I’m going to the Hunnifords to watch Lost.” “But they’re not the Hunnifords yet.” “Dammit. Now I’m late and I’ll never know why Jack’s full beard has less grey in it than his stubble.” Where was I? Oh yeah: I’ve determined that rural Ohio is a great place to be from. As a place to be, well…

Next, a quick note in praise of the Hummingbird Brewery. The new beers are being cranked out and released on a bi-weekly basis or so, which makes the whole experience of tasting each new home brew not unlike tuning in to a favorite tv show. Each visit brings some new palate moving experience. Keep up the good work, fellas.

I really intended to do a right proper review of the new Ethan Durelle album, Talks To The Dark, but time and other musical interludes have washed away the first impression that I had when I first received the album in the mail. My fandom of their music is certainly no secret around here, but this album is truly a leap forward for them. From the jazzy breakdown of Big Ending to the sinister drone of Downtown Man, there’s new territory being explored all over. The biggest revelation for me is the album closer, Horns of the Altar. Knowing some of the personal band history that likely influenced the writing of this song, its raw, broken vocals and bleak yet faithful hope are an encouragement and a sure-fire “hairs on the back of your neck” moment with each listen. I can’t wait to hear the newer songs live in August.

While we’re on the subject of music, the new White Stripes album is great. The dark experimentalism of Get Behind Me Satan is gone, in favor of the time-tested formula of earlier albums like White Blood Cells and De Stijl. Still crossing my fingers that they’re going to hit Dallas or Houston around ACL. Also, just recently found this band Cabin. Whoa. Just whoa.

I cried a little when Craig Biggio got his 3,000th hit. I realized that he’s been an Astro since I was six years old. Six! Think about what you were doing when you were six. That’s the year that he got his first hit. In an Astros uniform. Of the 27 players to get 3,000, only 7 or 8 did it with a single team. Craig is Houston baseball.

Finally, props to my little brother JM, for not realizing what happens when you have sex with your wife. In so doing, you’ve bought me 12 more months of grace about my current singleness. I knew you’d come through for me when I needed it most.