10/31/2002 03:51:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|The pressure is on at work these days. Big time. That means a lot of things: 1. I have less time to post, as is obvious. 2. I have about twice as much to do any given day than before. 3. Most of that new work is stuff I really like doing. 4. I realized that it's nice to be the guy they turn to when things get tough. 5. I'm sharpening my once atrophied web design skills daily. My short term, midrange and long term goals of weight loss, enlistment and law school respectively have not changed. But the attainment of the first is more difficult, because I am much more tired at the end of each work day. And in addition, these are stressful days. I am a stress eater, and as is becoming apparent, a stress drinker. Those are big stumbling blocks to weight loss. And although I've lost 25 pounds since I began, I have stagnated over the past month or so. I do, however, have a deadline now. I renewed my lease recently, and only renewed for six months. So that's my goal. My lease runs out at the end of May, and I intend fully to have lost the necessary weight by then. Or at least be WELL on my way to doing so.|W|P|83841452|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/28/2002 10:59:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|I can't remember if I've posted this link before, so here it is. It's the album of pictures from my February road trip out West. From Louisville to Atlanta to New Orleans to Dallas to Austin to Odessa to Phoenix to Los Angeles to San Francisco to Las Vegas to Tulsa to St. Louis to Louisville. I think you might have to log in to see the pics, and if so, just use this: user: lostinlouisville pwd: lostinlouisville And just a little warning, there are a bunch of pictures, most of them desert scenes through my windshield.|W|P|83698662|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/28/2002 08:36:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Fantastic weekend. Friday was Barretones for Andrew Bird's Bowl of Fire. The opening band was wonderful. The Features were supposed to be a kinks-influenced kind of thing. And I don't know about that, but they were great. Very catchy songs, and stellar instrumentation. The singer, oddly enough, had a Kurt Cobain-ish face. I say it was odd because his voice at times strained for notes the way the late Mr. Cobain would. But The Features were far more melodic than anything ever done by Nirvana. And they are far better for that fact. The Bowl of Fire was down a couple of members, reduced to a trio. This reduction left Andrew Bird on Violin, vocals, digital loop machine and whistling, Nora O'Connor on guitar and other singing and Kevin O'Donnell on drums, organ and xylophone. Remarkable performances were put forth by all three, but I must say I was dumbstruck by Mr. O'Donnell's performance. If he had only played drums, I would have been impressed. But on some numbers he played drums with his right hand and the bass register on the organ with his left. I can barely get my feet and hands to do different things while concentrating singly on the drums. This guy must have had some sort of surgery to physically separate the right and left halves of his brain. And then he'd reach over and play some notes on the xylophone. Ridiculous! Combine that, Ms. O'Connor's beautiful voice, and Andrew Bird's unquestionable virtuosity on the violin, and you have at least one music fan knocked flat on his ass. There is one more detail worth noting. Mr. Bird was making use of some sort of digital recording loop machine. This magical little machine allowed him, with a tap of his toe, to record something he was playing. And with another tap of the toe, play that selection back as a loop. The resulting effect was a concert full of wonderful, full violin duets. The tiny basement club with an 85-person capacity was full to the brim with notes and chords, slow yearning dirges and quick bouncing waltzes. I was impressed the first time I saw this band. This time I was held up an inch or two above my stool for the better part of the evening. Saturday morning I woke with an emotional hang over. You can't go through a concert like that and be the same the next morning. After winding myself back into an operable state, I ran around and prepared for the camping trip that was to follow. Around 4pm we gathered at First Quality and departed for the beautiful Jefferson County Memorial Forest. It was a crisp night, but not cold. The fire burned hot all night, and we were quite content. The leaves in the forest were turning quickly; a stunning visual reminder of the season slipping into the past. I barely noticed that it arriving and now it is nearing its decline. The end of the night is a blur of night hikes, poorly played guitars, fiddles and mandolins, very spirited political discussion and chili dogs. I crashed hard and bundled-up in my sleeping bag at some point not long before the sun came up. The clocks changed, and having missed my extra hour of sleep Saturday night, I took five in the middle of the day Sunday. Gone were any ideas of cleaning the apartment or working out or playing baseball. But the sleep was needed, as the waiting week at work promised to be nasty. And those promises are already being fulfilled. (Image "borrowed" from bowloffire.com and altered to reflect this line-up.)|W|P|83692267|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/25/2002 03:20:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|I'm in the process of changing this site over to an actual web host, instead of my free earthlink space. So for right now the www.lostinlouisville.com address isn't forwarding correctly. This site will be available for a little while but once it isn't, you might want to update your links. ***Update*** I managed to keep the domain name forwarding, but it doesn't look like I can FTP the files to my new web space yet, so the move will have to wait. This move is particularly good because I see Blogger was hacked and my FTP info might have been compromised. Nice. ***Update 2.0*** Take that FTP problems! I used the archaic file upload tools provided by my host to move the site. And now it's up and running. A few minor adjustments and all will be well. ***Update 3.0*** The adjustments are complete, and everything is looking good. The hosting company I'm using is extremely cheep, and as such has some weird things going on with the addresses. So, for those of you with links to this site, you can use www.lostinlouisville.com for the front page or blog.lostinlouisville.com to go directly to the blog. Easy enough, right?|W|P|83519406|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/24/2002 09:40:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|I saw in LEO that Andrew Bird's Bowl of Fire is supposed to be playing at Barretones this Friday (tomorrow). I jumped over to Bird's web site, and it's not listed. But it is listed on Barretones' web site. So I'm going to assume that it's happening. I'll be there, and you should too. ABBOF puts on a stellar show, and last time I saw them at Barettones, they rocked the house down. The Features are opening.|W|P|83458840|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/23/2002 10:01:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Brent over at The Ville passes along this link to the Stax Museum website. It makes me very, very happy to see that this is getting off the ground. My buddy and I made the pilgrimage to Mecca Memphis a couple of summers ago. Our first stop, as it should be, was Sun. We paid the price and took the "tour" which consists of walking into the three room studio and listening to the underinformed tour guide tell you things you already know. But it was well worth it just to stand in that room. It's a magical place where so much of the music I love was born. The next stop on our self guided tour of Memphis was Beale st. It was nice to see, and we grabbed a decent bite to eat, but there really wasn't much happening on a weekday afternoon. I'm not big on the touristy kind of places there, so we just walked by BB King's and Elvis Presley's. Looking for something else to do, we wondered over to the Smithsonian Rock 'n Soul exhibit. We were both very pleasantly surprised by this collection of artifacts of American music. Get the headphones and take the audio tour. It's well worth it. While on the audio tour, my buddy picked-up the address for Stax. Given that some our favorite music came from that record label, we thought it was a good idea to go find the place. So we grabbed the map and found the street. Neither of us being terribly familiar with Memphis, we anticipated an adventure. And as you might have guessed, Stax was not in the best end of town. We were definitely the whitest guys around. But it wasn't an awful neighborhood. Just poor. As a traveling duo, we've seen much worse. Like the time we took the wrong exit and ended-up in the wrong neighborhood in the south end of Chicago. Or every time we visit our buddy in Atlanta who lives by the federal prison. We got to the right street and began to watch the numbers. Not many buildings had an address prominently displayed, so we had to be vigilant. but when we got to the spot, there was no missing it. There was a large, freshly bulldozed lot with a small sign that read: "Future site of the Stax Museum." We were disappointed that we didn't get to see the Stax building, but very glad to see that they were building a museum to commemorate one of the greatest American record labels. And it could do nothing but good for this obviously neglected side of town. We made a quick ceremonial drive by Graceland, only stopping for gas and snacks before heading home.|W|P|83404777|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/23/2002 09:26:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Lileks is back after his week-long hiatus and delivers a stinging indictment of his Windows tech support folks. Well, not exactly. He's actually quite understanding and sympathetic in dealing with Windows issues, especially for a Mac user. As a reluctant tech support guy, I know the "reboot and reinstall" line all too well. I'd say that 95% of the everyday problems on our network can be solved by a reboot. And four of the other five can be solved by a reinstall. It's just the nature of Windows to require these things on a regular basis. Unfortunately, this means my job can be horribly dull at times.|W|P|83403357|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/22/2002 09:42:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|So Caleb planted the idea in my head of hosting a Louisville blogger party. I'm all for it. I want to meet the people I have taken to reading every day. But I doubt that my apartment would be a suitable location. It could probably stand to hold the necessary number of people, but I don't know how people might feel about going to the home of a stranger. Or how my neighbors would feel about it, for that matter. I'm open to suggestions. Would you like to meet at a bar? Is there anyone else out there with a more suitable home? Drop me a line, or just leave a comment here. I'll be glad to coordinate everything. ****Update***** It looks like a better date might be December 14, to accommodate folks in school. If this date would prevent anyone from attending, speak up. Let me know what's good for anyone interested in attending. Another Update Here|W|P|83350479|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/21/2002 10:05:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Now for a recap of the weekend's festivities: Friday. The plan was to go to work, go home, go to see Superdrag and Guided By Voices, then head down to the Galt House for some IBMA partying. At least, that was the plan. I did go to work. But while I was at work I checked the show schedule for IBMA and noticed that Old Crow Medicine Show was playing at 6:35. That gave me plenty of time get down to Headliners to see Superdrag. So I went straight downtown from work. I managed to find a decent parking spot and got in just in time to hear IIIrd Time Out finish their set. I have heard all sorts of wonderful things about these guys, and they were good. But after a week of straight Bluegrass, I was ready for something different. OCMS came on next and delivered that something different I was seeking. The soundman, while doing his very best, couldn't manage to get the sound right. The bass was fading in and out and going back and forth between trebly and bassy for the first four or five songs. But it was still good to see those guys play, and especially in front of hundreds (if not thousands) of bluegrass fans. They play an old-timey string band type of music, and I love it. By the end of the set the sound was passable, and the crowd really got into it. After their set I went up to the room to hang out for a little while before heading home and to headliners. There were a few people in there just hanging around and chatting. It was a rare quiet moment in the First Quality suite, and I enjoyed it. Not long after arriving, my nearly dead cell phone rang. After a few attempts to gain a decent reception, I determined that it was my friend Ashley calling to say that she was down at the Galt House, and where was I. I told her to come on up to the room, but wasn't sure if she understood. The room started to fill up shortly thereafter. Steve from Shreveport, LA came in with much of his family. Others came in to pick, and the volume began to rise. Around this time, I noticed someone familiar in the room. I'd seen him before, and he has a bad habit of showing-up at events like this. Events where I know I should be having fun. He had his typically dark and brooding aura about him, and he was staring me down from just inside the door. I started to feel uncomfortable, and thought about walking around. I called Ashley back to see where she was. She was on her way up to the room. My intent was to leave as soon as she got up there, and to go see what was going-on around the hotel. But that awful bastard was still sitting in the room, hovering over me now whispering in my ear. He'd say little things that he knew would upset me and then laugh a little, knowing that he was starting to get to me. I wanted to get out of that room and try to shake him, but I knew I needed to wait for Ashley. She finally made it up to the room, and she was with her boyfriend. I wanted to leave, but he grabbed my arm and whispered in my ear one more time. "You don't want to go hang around with them." And he was right. The thought of running around that hotel with her and her boyfriend made me sick to my stomach. I'd rather be alone than be the third wheel again. So I stayed in the room. And when they asked me if I wanted to go walk with them I declined. "I'll call you a little later and meet up with you" I said, knowing I wouldn't. More and more people piled into the room. They started playing and singing even louder. But I could still hear him talking. He knew I wasn't going to call them and that I wasn't going to meet them to walk around. And he let me know. I couldn't take much more. I needed to get out of there, and quick. So without saying goodbye to anyone I grabbed my jacket and hit the door. Down the hall, to the elevators. They were all up around the 15th floor. That's too ling to wait. I went down the stairs, across the street to the garage and into my car. But he had followed me down, and was waiting at the exit of the garage with a nasty look on his face as I pulled out and went home. It felt so much like running away. And it was. But I needed to get home. There's no use trying to be around other people when he shows up. Saturday. I had to take my laptop down to the Galt House for them to use at our booth. We were expecting a big crowd on the weekend. And as I was starting my car to head down, I got a call on my cell phone. It was someone down at the booth. Apparently nobody working on the weekend was told how to set up the computers. "I'm on my way down,� I tell him. I got down there and straightened everything out. This was the only glitch with the computers the entire week. From there it was out to work for a couple of minutes and then to my mom's for laundry. I always look forward to these semi-weekly visits. I get to relax, visit with my mom and I always eat well out there. It was a much-needed break, and it helped me shake the dark cloud from the last evening. After the laundry was done and the visit was over, I went home, put the laundry away and changed clothes. I decided to tempt fate and head back down to the Galt House. To hell with him. I'm going to have a good time. And I did. I stayed late, wondering from room to room to hear the picking and singing. My mood was considerably better, and he never showed his face. I stayed until 3am before heading home to crash. Sunday. I promised my boss that I'd help with breaking down the booth, so I went down to the Galt House around noon. They were already putting instruments away and packing the merchandise. I helped load the remaining items, pack stuff to the truck, and take apart the computer set-up. We were done by 3. That left me plenty of time to get to the baseball game, which I had almost forgotten. It was another rough game for me physically. Another outfield tumble left me bruised, muddy and sore. I got some good hits and was robbed by a couple of outstanding defensive plays. I damn near broke my finger on my last at-bat. I'm not exactly sure how I did it, but I jammed the middle finger on my right hand while swinging the bat. Despite all the pain, and the fact that we lost, it was a very satisfying game. The extreme physical exertion did me good. It cleared my mind and sapped the remaining energy from my body, allowing me to sleep like a baby. |W|P|83296921|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/18/2002 11:40:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Alright, a little elaboration on last night's show. I was happy upon arriving at the Lighthouse to see that it is looking much better. Bob finally fixed the large holes in the floor and has completed most of the painting and finishing work. It's going to take some time for that place to overcome the stigma of the infamous Do Drop Inn, but if Bob does it right, it will make a great venue. I was also very happy to see Greg and Molly from Porter Hall Tennessee. They made this trip as a duo, and opened the show. Their CD is great, and if you like Honky Tonk, country harmony, or Lucinda Williams, you'll like Porter Hall. They did a great duo-acoustic guitar set. Gary is an even better lead guitar player than I remembered. And Molly's voice sounds better each time I hear it. Next up was Bobby Bare Jr. and his band. I love Boo-Tay. (come on now, it's the name of the album he did with his band Bare Jr. Sheesh.) And I liked what I've heard of his new solo effort. So I was looking forward to hearing BBJ live for the first time. The band consisted of Bobby on rhythm acoustic and electric guitar and lead vocals, lead electric guitar player (I think his name was Teal, no kidding), bass, drums, backing vocals and tambourine and a keyboard/organ/accordion player to really fill out the sound. And fill it out they did. They rocked and rolled so hard that they blew a fuse. Literally. On what was to be their last song, the power failed for the whole sound system. Luckily they still had power in their amps, and finished the song without blinking. They hopped down off of the stage and rocked the folks on the dance floor up close and personal. Included in those receiving personal rocking was Jim James of My Morning Jacket, who was enjoying the set very much. It seems that BBJ and MMJ have formed something of a mutual admiration society. And it only makes sense. Because the set Bobby and band manufactured last night was not unlike a good My Morning Jacket set. BBJ tends more towards the country end of the spectrum than does MMJ, but there were moments where I really sensed The Vibe. It's an inexplicable state, a kind of groove that MMJ hits on stage that makes your hair stand up and your head float. The best compliment I think I can pay Bobby Bare Jr. is that I got that feeling several times during their set. It was fantastic. Closing the show was Louisville's Hell's 1/2 Acre. They seem like genuinely nice guys, and had a good Rockabilly/Country vibe going on. The bass and lead guitar players were on top of it. But the natural process of coming down from the high of BBJ's set and some problems related to the blown soundboard led me to loose interest in their set after a few numbers. So, in summation: Porter Hall Tennessee = fantastic honky tonk band (which will be playing again tonight at the Lighthouse, all by themselves) Bobby Bare Jr. = Awesome. Rocked the lights out at the lighthouse. Hell's 1/2 Acre = Good Rockabilly, which is nice to see in town. But undermined by a tough act to follow and a completely rocked sound system.|W|P|83172590|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/18/2002 02:09:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Ok. Before I go to bed. Four words: Bobby Freaking Bare Junior Good night.|W|P|83156546|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/17/2002 04:21:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Last night at IBMA was surprisingly short for me. I arrived at 7:15 and waited for my friend Lee Ann in the lobby until about 7:45. First stop: Mike and Michelle's suite on the 4th floor. Their room is the hub of activity every year, and last night was no exception. Most of the members of Roundabout were on hand, warming-up for their showcase in the First Quality room that night. They were joined in the suite by Matt Phelps, an excellent young guitar player and grandson of resonator guitar master Alan Phelps. The room was pretty crowded. Mike and Michelle had been working the booth all day, and were taking their only break before the long night. Filling out the rest of the room was a good contingent of the Bluegrass Anonymous gang. The remaining members of Roundabout came in, and they proceeded to do a final run-through their set for the evening. Their bass player had to step out for a minute, and they asked me to sit in for a song. I've jammed with these guys before, and I could barely keep up then. But last night they were playing with the pedal to the metal, preparing to impress the IBMA crowd. So I was doing all I could not to pass out while trying to play. I did alright, and didn't garner any dirty looks, which are the universal Bluegrass signal for "You're screwing it up. Stop." It is a fact that the best way to sharpen your skills on an instrument is to play with people better than you. And these guys are way, way better than me. The worst thing you can do while playing is start to think about what you're doing. It's a sure-fire stumbling block. And when you play with guys that good, you don't have time to think. So naturally, you play better. I only sat in on one number, but it rekindled by enthusiasm for bass. I'll definitely have to start taking it back up to the BBC on Wednesdays. I noticed while playing that my carpal tunnel is coming back. My right hand got weak while I was playing, and that hasn't happened in a while. I had a nasty bout of the CT a while back when I was in school and working at the Papa John's warehouse. I think this recurrence has a lot to do with my work setup. It's definitely ergonomically incorrect. And I've been getting little spasms in my mouse-clicking finger, which is ultradisturbing. Anyhow, back to last night. Lee Ann and I set out to see the sights for a little while before the showcases got cranked-up. There wasn't much going on, but it stuck me as we strolled the halls how many more people I know this year than last. And I consider most of those people friends now. Walking through the halls of the Galt House was a much nicer experience this time around. After a short trip back up to the room to refuel, we went down to the First Quality room to catch Roundabout, again. They were outstanding. Hopefully someone with a record label was in the audience, and recognized the raw talent waiting to be unleashed. After their show Lee Ann and I left. It was only midnight, but I was tired. And I do want to conserve energy for the weekend. I plan on hitting things hard Friday and Saturday. Tonight is the big Hell's 1/2 Acre, Porter Hall Tennessee, Bobby Bare Jr. show at the Lighthouse. I'll be working the door, and hopefully drinking free.|W|P|83133341|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/16/2002 10:52:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P| Yesterday was a particularly nasty day at work. So I headed home to get a shower, change clothes and get a bite to eat before driving down to the Galt House for IBMA:Round2.0. I took 64 down to the River Road/3rd st. exit and turned onto Main, looking for a place to park. Of course, there was nothing. I parked in the Galt House garage the night before, but only managed to avoid the $5 fee by staying until the attendants had gone home. So last night I went in search of the ever elusive street parking. But my first pass along Main, 4th, Market and 2nd yielded nothing within walking distance. I had resigned myself to the fact that I would have to pay at the Galt House lot, seeing as how I wasn't going to stay late. But just as I was preparing to turn North on 4th into the Galt House turnaround, I spotted a parking space. On the corner of Fourth and Main: spitting distance from the Galt House. Right by all the fancy tour busses lined-up in front of the hotel. It was a good omen, and I made the appropriate sacrificial offerings. Once inside, things were jumping. There were random groups of pickers, family groups of pickers and professional bands strewn across the lobby and on every floor. I checked in at the First Quality showcase room, to see if they needed any help setting-up, but my man Byron had things under control. (Byron is a super cool guy, who looks disturbingly like David Crosby.) So I headed up to the suite where my friends and co-workers are staying. Several folks were inside hanging-out and picking. After a few spins around taking pictures and enjoying the music sprouting up at every turn, I headed home around midnight. It's still early in the week, and I need to conserve my energy for the weekend. I've already taken a bunch of pictures. I'll get a bunch of them up at the end of the week, but for now I'll just include a couple in my updates. |W|P|83063453|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/15/2002 09:55:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|      ugh. NOT enough sleep    damn seven o'clock ALARM        snooze button. cold floor.    bluegrass all week long         I don't know if I'll make it  until tomorrow          they say too much work  is better than being bored      but sleep trumps them both|W|P|83013510|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/13/2002 07:51:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|I'm a mess. I had a 9 for 10 hitting performance in the baseball game today, including one in-the-park homerun. I also took a tumble in the outfield, and our team lost. We were down 20-15 in the bottom of the ninth, and managed to get the lead down to one, but came up just short. We don't play competitively, so it's no big deal loosing. But it sure would have felt good to complete the come-back. And now I'm really feeling that fall. It wasn't anything big. There was a pop-up hit towards me in center field. I initially thought it was hit over my head, so I backed-up. But then it began to drop, and I was too far back. So I planted my foot to come in, and it went right out from under me. It was a strange sensation, because I almost managed to regain my composure. But at the last minute, I lost my balance and tumbled down onto the ground. It must have looked hilarious. It didn't feel hilarious, but I can appreciate that kind of comedy, even when I am the unintentional target. Posting this coming week will probably be sparse. As I think I said, I'll be running back and forth between work and the Galt House, where the International Bluegrass Musicians' Association convention will take place. It turns-out that I won't have to work the booth, which is fine by me. I'll be down there Monday to set up the wireless network, and then on most evenings for the picking in the halls and the shows in the showcase rooms. It's a surreal event, and even if you don't particularly like Bluegrass, you should check it out. It's a trip.|W|P|82938478|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/13/2002 12:33:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|After a celebratory night Friday night, in which much Cabernet was consumed, I slept until 1:38 this afternoon. It'll do me good come next week, when I doubt I'll get much sleep at all. Then today I ran some errands and generally was a bum, because it's good to do that once in a while. Come this evening, however, I was ready to go out and do something. But nobody was up for it. I'm not much for going out to bars alone, so I just gave it up and drove around for a while, enjoying the cool air and Wilco's "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot". (A great album, by the way.) And I got to thinking that I need more single, young friends that don't mind going out every once in a while. I've always enjoyed the company of my older friends, who are all about 10 years my senior. But since the end of college, I haven't really met many younger folks that like to go out and meet people and have a few drinks. Maybe I'll just have to get over it and head out solo.|W|P|82908912|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/11/2002 01:02:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Holy hot damn! You knew it was coming, and here it is: My Morning Jacket on MTV! click here for real player stream of the segment Here's an extended article, from MTV dot com. (HA! 2nd paragraph: "Death Is My Sleazy Pay"! That's hilarious!) Well, I didn't hear it there first. But a lot of people will, and that's great. Bon voyage boys. Enjoy the ride. (see pictures of their most recent Louisville show here)|W|P|82848842|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/11/2002 10:42:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|I'm pretty sure I took this before, and I think it came out the same, but here are my political compas results: Economic Left/Right: 0.62 Authoritarian/Libertarian: -4.26 I'd say that's about right.|W|P|82842638|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/11/2002 08:43:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|If you didn't know, you do now. The absolutely best comic on the web: Achewood. I laugh outloud every morning thanks to this wonderful strip.|W|P|82838086|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/10/2002 12:04:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Tired of Bluegrass yet? TOUGH! Caleb linked to the Rounder site's info on the upcoming Alison Krauss and Union Station live CD/DVD. This thing was recorded at the beautiful Palace Theatre right here in Louisville. I was at one of the two shows, right up front. So I'll be at the store buying the DVD as soon as it comes out, if just to see if I made the cut.|W|P|82796206|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/10/2002 11:46:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|The freakin' Gibson Montana trailer is going to be out here at the shop for the next three days. That means extra hours for me. But not nearly as many hours as I'll be putting in next week for IBMA(International Bluegrass Musicians' Association) Convention. Hopefully I'll get to take in a little bit of the festivities. Said festivities include a big trade show, Bluegrass awards show, fanfest concerts featuring all the best bands and picking everywhere. The IBMA takes place at the Galt House, and essentially consumes the entire hotel. Every meeting/convention room and hall is taken by concerts, booths, showcase rooms, food, instrument check-in etc. And the halls are packed with people playing, singing drinking and having a hell of a time. As you take the elevator up the east tower and the doors open, you are treated to the sound of people picking on each floor. The west tower is the "quiet" tower, where people go to sleep and find a little peace. But the east tower is rocking all night long. And you can see people from all over the world enjoying the music that has its roots in Kentucky. If you come, stop by the First Quality booth and say hi. I'll probably be there for a good chunk of the week.|W|P|82795461|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/10/2002 11:05:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Here's another good article on Bluegrass. This one comes from the Hardin County News-Enterprise and features members of Bluegrass Anonymous, the Louisville Bluegrass Association Bobby Smith and Terry Strange. (And check out that First Quality sticker on the washtub bass!)|W|P|82793693|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/09/2002 03:00:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|There's an excellent article over at the impressive Blogcritics.org about Bill Monroe's Mandolin. I remember hearing that the Bill Monroe foundation bought the thing at auction for some ridiculous price, because I also remember the pleas for donations shortly after. I think it's great that the folks in Rosine are trying to hold on to this vital piece of Kentucky music history, and if you want to support their effort, visit the web site and see where to send the check.|W|P|82751952|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/09/2002 01:56:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|This Matt Welch post reminded me of an experience I had while working as the cart jockey at Target. The security guard, who still works there, was this late twenties / early thirties guy with a police officer wife. Being the security guard at Target, he was supposed to wear "street" clothes. This usually translated into him wearing some of the unhip teen clothing sold at the store, which made him stick out like a sore thumb. This condition was not relieved by the fact that he just walked around the store all day carrying a couple of items and staring at people. So, one day this guy gathers all of the cart jockeys into his office. We're a little concerned. We each think the other has done something really wrong. (Like slamming into a car with a train of 20+ carts, or stealing something or taking too many breaks.) But much to our relief, he informs us that he just got a call from the Bashford Manor Mall Target security guard. They had just been hit by a notorious shoplifter. The culprit made off with a TV, a stereo and a couple of VCRs. They had reason to believe he was on his way over here to hit our store. The security guard needed our help. We, the bottom of the Target Team Food Chain, were the last line of defense against this ruthless criminal. This particular crook's M.O. was to park his pickup in front of the store and leave it running. Then he would grab a cart, go straight to the electronics department and load up. Heading for the exit, he would go out, setting off the alarm, drop the stuff in the bed of his truck, and speed off before anyone stopped him. Our mission, we were informed, was to watch the front door for anyone in a pickup parking by the entrance leaving the engine running. When we spotted him, we were to radio to the security guard with some secret code. Then we were supposed to get in the truck, shut it off, and toss the keys under the seat. This would allow the security guard time enough to stop the shoplifter before he got away. It was a fantastic plan, and we were chomping at the bit for this guy to show his face. Aside from dodging cars and chasing runaway carts, this was the most excitement we would ever see. But much to all of our dismay, there was no trouble. The guy never came by, and we never got to foil his scheme.|W|P|82749235|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/09/2002 11:01:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|After seeing this thing on Caleb's site and OnMyMind, I had to give it a whirl. Here are the results: Jackson Cooper Lost in Louisville |W|P|82741861|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/09/2002 09:56:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Consider this a friendly reminder that you should read James Lileks' Bleat every day! (especially today)|W|P|82739129|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/09/2002 09:32:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|The picture at the top of this Tony Pierce post [Hint: it's not the Anna pic.] is far and away the most disturbing thing I've seen in a weeks. And I'm so used to seeing pictures of beautiful women on his site that it came as a special kind of shock. I think I need to go home and take a shower.|W|P|82738135|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/09/2002 09:15:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|It's been a hectic couple of days. Sunday I went down to catch Fire The Saddle open the day of Oktoberfest music at the BBC before heading over to Seneca park for a baseball game. The field was wet, and then it rained a little more, putting a nice slip 'n slideish effect on the outfield. I did, however, manage to keep my footing and make a couple of decent plays. My main contribution to the game was hitting. Ever since I started playing a month or three ago, I have shocked myself with my hitting ability. I rarely do not reach base. And when I don't, it's usually because the fielder made an excellent play. It made me think that I might have missed my calling, sports-wise. I spent all of my childhood playing soccer. I played a little baseball, but quit as soon as it interfered with soccer. And I'm certainly built more like Kirby Puckett than Cobi Jones. So, more on the theme of my recently re-discovered athleticism. Last night and the night before I played tennis, also at Seneca park. Now, I've really never played tennis. But I seem to do pretty good. I'm not great. And with my lack of conditioning, mobility is a little limited. But I keep up. And my hand-eye coordination is impeccable. Monday the game was shortened by the lights on most of the courts going out 30 minutes in. But last night I played hard for a full two and a half hours. And this morning I am paying the price. I can barely move.|W|P|82737595|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/05/2002 10:58:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|I've been tinkering with the layout of the site. Let me know what you think. (Which is now possible, thanks to HaloScan comments!)|W|P|82578485|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/05/2002 10:19:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|After a long, frustrating day at work, I went out to take in some great music last night. Of course, I didn't leave until the tornado passed. Or to be more accurate, until what looked on radar kind of like what might under some conditions turn into a tornado-producing storm. Sometimes. But the sirens were wailing, and the teevee was bleeping, so I stayed in until what turned out to be a little bit of hard rain passed. Then it was down to the BBC for a completely packed Roundabout show. These guys are the cream of the crop in Louisville bluegrass. And even though most of the people in the BBC were just there for the Oktoberfest, they really seemed to enjoy the show. But the place really was packed, so it was even more difficult than usual to get a drink. After that show ended, a couple of my friends and I headed down to Longshots to catch the wonderful Johnny B and his Honky Tonk band. Normally, Johnny is joined by Steve Cooley on guitar. But last night we were treated to the guitar wizardry of mister Guthrie Trapp. This guy is ridiculously good and is equally impressive playing honky tonk, bluegrass or jazz. Top notch. And as a result of that night of fun, I slept until noon. But in the interest of keeping-up my streak of bad nights of sleep, my calf pulled itself into a tight knot in the middle of the night. I leapt out of bed, trying to pull the muscle back into its natural position. When I hit the floor, putting weight on that leg brought forth a horribly high pitched squeal of pain from yours truly. The cramp eventually relented and I fell into bed, quite relieved that I didn't have to get up in the morning. So, around noon, I was pulled down from my cloud of late morning sleep by the ringing of my phone. Of course. It was my boss. He wanted to make sure I knew that I needed to come in and fix this goddamned monitor before Monday. It sure was nice of him to let me know. So, to work for the fourth weekend in a row. Awful. Then I swung by dad's to pick up a baseball bat for the big game tomorrow, ate some kick-ass stir fry, and played him in a few games of pool. I managed to win one - out of five. I was considering going up to the BBC again for the Rockabilly show, but I've given them soooo much of my money lately that I thought I'd give my wilting debit card a rest. I may get up there tomorrow for Fire the Saddle, but only for a little while, because it's baseball day tomorrow at 4 o'clock! Kick ass!|W|P|82577252|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/04/2002 05:12:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|There are few things I like less than installing and configuring Windows. And that's what I've been doing. All day long. I'm trying to set up a little wireless network for us to use at IBMA, and it's not going well. I've never messed with this wireless business before, but it seems pretty simple. I'm working with pathetic old leftover machines. And that's complicating matters quite a bit. I'd currently rather be in the dentist's chair, having my teeth removed with a ball-peen hammer.|W|P|82532380|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/03/2002 05:04:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|They have rules for what can and cannot appear on a vanity license plate, right? If so, then I wonder how the freaky-looking dude in the Lincon TownCar managed to get what he got. Because, as I was driving down the Waterston on the way to work today, it struck me that: might be construed as inappropriate by some. Maybe it's just me.|W|P|82483834|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/03/2002 11:05:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|I have pictures on this website. But I am by no means a good photographer. And as is painfully evident, I am not a talented web designer. My training is in the nuts and bolts programming end of things. I like to think of myself as creative, but I am not trained in the arts and my talents in that area are not refined. So, like I said, I'm not a photographer. Nor am I particularly skilled in creative web design. However, this beautiful and talented young woman is both. Very much. This pencam photo essay centers on places all less than a mile from my apartment, and they have never looked better.|W|P|82468843|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/02/2002 05:25:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|These are hilarious. Snoop and Willie Nelson tie for my favorites. (link via the excellent BlogCritics)|W|P|82434384|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/02/2002 09:28:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Nice. I was this guy's Louisville Link of the Day.|W|P|82414506|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com10/01/2002 02:49:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|As I type, The Kruger Brothers are playing no more than ten feet away. They came by the shop today for a little visit, since we sponsor them. From Switzerland, the Krugers are one of my favorite Bluegrass groups... Damn. Sorry. I had to go back and listen a little more. Those guys are sheer genius. Anyway, The first time I saw them was at last year's Merlefest, right after I started this job. That was the same festival where I saw Gillian Welch (with whom I am completely in love), Alison Krauss and Union Station, Patty Loveless, Doc Watson, Nickel Creek, Tony Rice, Sam Bush, Peter Rowan, and so many more. But the Krugers stood out in that crowd. Jens' banjo work is phenomenal. It sounds like Beethoven if Beethoven was a Swiss Bluegrass musician. Uwe's guitar playing is equally impressive. His giant hands floating up and down the neck, in between the frets, the notes dance in step with the banjo. And then there is Joel's resophonic bass. I've never heard a more pleasing acoustic bass sound in my life. So, as they play, right now, in the next room, I can only sit here in awe. How can everyone in the world not love these guys and their music? (Listen Here) Go buy their cds right now. Aw man, and now Mike Cleveland, fiddle player of the year, jumped in there on mandolin! I can't stand it! |W|P|82376577|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com