5/31/2002 11:44:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Good Lord. My mind has been drifting these past couple days. I'm bored at work. I don't know how many other people have this sort of problem, but it's driving me nuts. I guess I should have known better. I'm doing the same thing I was doing in my previous job: web site and network maintenance. I thought that because this new job is in the context of something I love, that I could be happy doing the same work. WRONG! It almost makes it worse. Now I know for sure that I don't want to do this kind of job, anywhere. The problem here is simple. A lobotomized spider monkey could manage to do the work I do on a regular basis. Sure, it would need a little training. If it read a few "HTML for DumbMonkeys" or "Windows 2000 for Half-Wits" books, it would be right up to speed. I sit and stare at my computer, my brain cells slowly dying-off from atrophy. I must check my e-mail about a thousand times a day. But the root of the problem here isn't that I don't have anything to do, because I have several things I could work on to keep me busy. The problem is knowing the work that lies ahead will not challenge me. With all that in mind, I found myself perusing the Army Recruitment site again. I had nearly forgotten about my goals for fitness, enlistment and law school, which generally tends to happen to me when I get overwhelmed by my day-to-day life. My only concern is that this is becoming a cycle of frustration, escape, relief and then complacency. I definitely need to find a way to keep that cycle from repeating itself.|W|P|77186028|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com5/29/2002 03:46:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|WOOO HOOOO! It's Wednesday. And you know what that means: Bluegrass at The Lighthouse. I think I'll take my bass tonight. I'm a little out of practice, but if I put it off any longer I'll forget how to play all together.|W|P|77112586|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com5/29/2002 10:21:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|I mentioned this is the first post on this blog, but it is worth repeating. I owe a big debt of gratitude to Ken Layne, Matt Welch, Tony Pierce and Glenn Reynolds. Their sites inspired me to start putting my words down in a weblog. Those guys have so much good content, every single day, that I was almost discouraged to even start. But then I decided to not compete in their respective arenas. Mr. Reynolds has the consummate news analysis site. Misters Layne and Welch have the market cornered on the journalistic side of things. Mr. Pierce's site defies categorization, but is consistently funny, thoughtful and fresh. I have a unique perspective on this town, and the music therein. So that's all I want to bring to the table. I don't know if anyone is going to be interested, but I'm certainly going to enjoy documenting it.|W|P|77101024|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com5/28/2002 10:56:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|I managed to do a fair amount of relaxing over the long weekend, only to blow it all by going out Monday night. Friday was an amazing show at the Rudyard Kipling by one of the most talented new bands in Louisville, Fire the Saddle. They are a group of young music students from the local private university who play an endearing mix of bluegrass and other rootsy, mountainish music. And despite whatever prejudice I may have about music students from an expensive college playing mountain music, these folks get it. They are honest and sincere. There's no gimmick, no pretense. They just play music they love, and are damn good at it. They closed with a killer John Hartford tune, but for the most part did original material. I signed-up on their mailing list, so I'll keep you updated on your next chance to see these guys. Saturday was errand day. Nothing exciting happened, just lots of running around town. That evening I drove across the Sherman Minton bridge to New Albany for my friend's birthday party. Like a fair number of my friends, everyone at this party was at least ten years older than me. This normally doesn't create many problems. But occasionally, when they're talking about some record that came out in 1981, they are surprised to find that I don't remember it. So, I gently remind them that I was only two years old in 1981. This is typically followed by many groans and rolled-eyes. Sunday, I felt young again. I went over to my dad and step-mom's place for a cookout. My dad had also invited a couple of his friends, who also happen to be amazing guitar players. So I brought my guitar along as well. After a filling meal, we all grabbed our guitars and headed for the deck to do a little picking in the beautiful weather. The part that made me feel young was the song selection for the evening. It was pretty wide-ranging, but consisted largely of Jethro Tull, Journey and other similar bands who had their best days before I was old enough to care. Monday found me out at my mom's place for laundry and another free meal. My mom worries that I'll never come visit her if I buy a washer and dryer. But she has to know that I can't pass up an excellent, free, home-cooked meal. Monday night I was back down at the Rudyard Kipling for a show my friend LeeAnn booked. The line-up was Lucero at 9:30 and Richard Buckner at 11. I volunteered to help out working the door, and had a great time talking to all the fine folks that came down on a Monday night for the show. I even ran into the guitar player from my old band. He's started to get into a lot of the same stuff that I've been listening to, and we have big plans for a possible new band. And if not a new band, at least I've got someone on the same level to jam with on a regular basis. I also ran into Dave Bird, the drummer for Fire the Saddle and former singer in one of my favorite bands from my high school days, Hedge. And then I saw the venerable Jason Lowenstein, who was enjoying the show immensely. All in all, it was a winner of a night. I think LeeAnn managed to pay full guarantees, bar tabs and accommodations for both bands, with a little left over. And for a Monday night at the end of a long weekend in Louisville, that's a major accomplishment. I shouldn't have to say it again, but Louisville is an awesome place for music right now.|W|P|77064469|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com5/24/2002 02:42:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|After nearly seven consecutive nights out on the town, I managed to avoid doing anything last night. I managed to avoid the temptation to head down to the Lighthouse once again. I even managed to avoid going out to eat. Time at home alone is something that I once thought I'd never miss. I went weeks at a time without anything to do and days without talking to anyone. Those days are over. Several things came to pass in a short period of time: I turned 21, I finished college, and I got a good-paying, first-shift job. The sum consequence of these factors is the complete transformaton of my social life. Tonight I'll probably end-up going to see my ex-roommate's band play downtown with a very exciting new accoustic/bluegrass group from Louisville called "Firethe Saddle". I had the pleasure of seeing this group open for the mighty My Morning Jacket a couple of months ago, and wasd completely blown away. They've got a female guitar player/singer and a male guitar player/mandolin player/singer that do some killer harmonies. And if that show ends early enough, it's down to Longshot's to see the versatile Johnny Berry and his Honky-tonk band. It's a long weekend, so I'll have plenty of time to sleep later.|W|P|76932853|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com5/23/2002 01:51:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|I just told you. Louisville is an amazing place for music. Now, as proof, I offer this story: Last night at the Lighthouse, we were enjoying the particularly nice weather and Bob's recently acquired sidewalk liquor license with a big jam outside. People would walk by, stop, and listen. People driving by in their cars would turn off their stereo, roll down the window, and block traffic. Some crazy neighborhood kids were dancing on the other side of the street. Then they danced their way over, snuck into the bar for a soda, and danced their way back out again to listen. The firemen at the firehouse across the street sat outside as usual, but tonight they had entertainment. They usually come over at some point during the night to see what's happening inside. But tonight they got to sit comfortably on their bench and listen. The people playing outside weren't professionals. They weren't performers. Some of them hadn't even played Bluegrass before. But last night they played like champions. Everyone was singing, regardless of his or her knowledge of the words. It seemed as if the whole sleepy little neighborhood was up there, singing and dancing and smiling. At some point, a bus pulled-up at the stop in front of the bar. I thought maybe the big crowd at a normally deserted stop startled the driver. He slowed, stopped, and opened his door. It was as if he was waiting for us to get on, with instruments, beer bottles and cigarettes in-hand. But as we finished the song we were playing, he stayed. And then, as if he had been there all night, belts out the entire first verse of "Blue Moon of Kentucky", on beat and on key. Just as some of the pickers prepared to begin accompanying him on the second verse, he closed his door and drove off down the street. Only in Louisville. |W|P|76890027|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com5/22/2002 11:44:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|It is utterly remarkable just how much good music there is to be heard in Louisville. Last night I saw a fellow by the name of Johnny Berry. He has several bands, but this one was his Bluegrass band. It featured Steve Cooley and Larry Raley from Hog Operation on banjo and bass respectively and Alan Phelps on the resonator guitar. And tonight I'll head down to The Lighthouse, just like I've done every week for a long time, and take in the bad-ass Bluegrass Jam session. I've seen some of the best musicians from all over the place at that thing. But it's still small enough that I can lug my bass up there and pick a few now and again. I totally don't take any of this for granted. Louisville is THE place to be to hear good Bluegrass music. There is no disputing this fact. Just visit the Galt House during the annual IBMA convention if you have any doubt. Bluegrass is not hard to understand, but it isn't simple. And the people who play and love it aren't simple. Bluegrass has reached every corner of the globe, but it started in Kentucky and its stories are still being sung right here in Louisville.|W|P|76843272|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com5/21/2002 04:17:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|I guess I'll probably never get around to adding all the pictures I want to the lead-in pages, so here's the whole lot. Switching to index view is the best way to get to these things. There are 373 images total. I've mentioned my trip here several times, but I don't think I've ever given an appropriate synopsis. So here we go. (You can follow the story in the pictures, for the most part.) I departed my home in Louisville, Kentucky and drove directly to Atlanta, Georgia to attend the Rockabilly rumble. This is my second year at this event, and my friend Start Sanders and his wife Kerry hosted me graciously. I spent a few days there and managed to visit with cousins and an uncle that I hadn't seen in many years. The next stop was New Orleans. I stopped along the way at the childhood home of Hank Williams Sr. I didn't leave my car the entire time in New Orleans. It was the day after the Super Bowl, and traffic was nasty. I just wanted to see the French Quarter. After that, I headed through Baton Rouge and stopped for the night in Alexandria, LA. After a minor problem finding my way out of Alexandria, I drove on through Shreveport to Dallas. I�ve been to Dallas twice that I can remember, and it was snowing each time. I was relying on some really poor MapQuest directions, and had a hell of a time finding my destination. The aforementioned destination was a club called �Trees� in Deep Elum. Lucky for me, my trip schedule brought me through Dallas on the day that Louisville�s finest band, My Morning Jacket was opening for Eyes Adrift. MMJ are a bunch of super guys and invited me to join them for dinner. Of course, I lucked-out and that bass player guy from Nirvana just happened to be there. After the show that night, I drove on down to Austin. I had a hell of a time finding a place to stay, and settled into bed in a Motel 6 no earlier than 5 am. Austin was great. I did some record shopping and ate lots of good food. The show I wanted to see there was canceled, so I took-off early for Odessa. I stayed for a short time with my friend in West Texas before making the long haul to LA. I got to LA via El Paso, Phoenix, Tucson and Blythe, CA. I saw many beautiful desert sights on I-10, as documented in the photo album. I stayed with my cousin in Burbank and got to see everything I wanted to see while in LA. And as I�ve said before, I had a terribly enjoyable visit with Ken and Matt at the Ye Rustic Inn. After LA, I drove up through the middle of the state to San Francisco. There I stayed with my uncle, who showed me a hell of a time. In three or four days, I managed to see nearly every inch of the city. I saw The Height, shopped in Amoeba, visited the City Lights bookstore, did some freak-watching in Berkley and saw a concert at the Fillmore. On the way back, I drove down the Pacific Coast Highway, got lost in Santa Barbra, and ended-up staying the night in Barstow. The next day was a quick drive through Vegas, a jaunt across the Hoover Dam, and a sunset view of the Grand Canyon. The return trip took me through Flagstaff, Tulsa and St. Louis. A couple of long days and thousands of miles later, I was back home. This, of course, has only been a logistical overview of my trip. The other aspects: psychological, social and emotional, will take a little longer to put down in words. |W|P|76810926|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com5/21/2002 10:48:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Good God, Ken Layne really doesn't like the Sacramento Kings. But who can blame him when they've resorted to poisoning the cheeseburgers of the other team's star? I made the mistake, while visiting Misters Layne and Welch in LA, of stating my dislike for the Lakers in general and Rick Fox in particular. I should have known better. What came next was an intense analysis of my opinion by two of the sharpest minds on the west coast. And let me tell you, it got ugly. I think they finally decided that I was just jealous of Mr. Fox's good looks and beautiful wife. But they didn't hold it against me, and I had a hell of a time drinking with them and some crazy punk rock tour manager at Ye Old Rustic Inn.|W|P|76799391|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com5/21/2002 10:23:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Shortly after returning from my large trip out West, I managed to land a pretty sweet job. I now work for a company called First Quality Musical Supplies. We sell acoustic instruments, strings and accessories, mainly to the Bluegrass Music crowd. My title, which sounds more impressive than it really is, reads: "Information Systems Manager". So, combine my love of music with my education in all things computer-related, and you have my new position. Ideal, right? Should be perfectly satisfied, right? Well, maybe not. I feel myself once again growing dissatisfied spending my days in front of a computer screen. There's something about it that just sucks my soul out right through my fingertips. It's boredom, but to a higher degree. So, what's the answer here? My mind has drifted back to the idea of enlistment. I have managed to loose 25 pounds and shape-up considerably since the idea first entered my head, but I still have a little ways to go. So, I guess now it's time to stop hitting that snooze button five times and to get up and exercise every morning. That won't be easy, but maybe it will give me enough motivation to get through these slow, boring days. |W|P|76798488|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com5/18/2002 11:54:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|I've been away for a long time, but I'm moving things to a completely new format and location. I'm starting-out with some pictures from my Westward Trek.|W|P|76695874|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com