12/31/2002 10:42:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|I probably won't post tomorrow, so I'll remind you today that Hank Williams died 50 years ago; January 1, 1953. I love his music. And so much of the music I love owes directly and indirectly to this man. To borrow a bit from the man TP, here's one of my favorite Hank Williams songs: I'LL NEVER GET OUT OF THIS WORLD ALIVE Recorded by Hank Williams Written by Hank Williams and Fred Rose (unattributed photos 'borrowed' from this site) Now you're lookin' at a man that's gettin' kind-a mad I had lot's of luck but it's all been bad No matter how I struggle and strive I'll never get out of this world a-live. My fishin' pole's broke the creek is full of sand My woman run away with another man No matter how I struggle and strive I'll never get out of this world alive. A distant uncle passed away and left me quite a batch And I was livin'g high until that fatal day A lawyer proved I wasn't born I was only hatched. Ev'rything's agin' me and it's got me down If I jumped in the river I would prob'ly drown No matter how I struggle and strive I'll never get out of this world alive. These shabby shoes I'm wearin' all the time Are full of holes and nails And brother if I stepped on a worn out dime I bet a nickel I could tell you if it was heads or tails. I'm not gonna worry wrinkles in my brow 'Cause nothin's ever gonna be alright nohow No matter how I struggle and strive I'll never get out of this world alive. I could buy a Sunday suit and it would leave me broke If it had two pair of pants I would burn the coat No matter how I struggle and strive I'll never get out of this world alive. If it was rainin' gold I wouldn't stand a chance I wouldn't have a pocket in my patched up pants No matter how I struggle and strive I'll never get out of this world alive. |W|P|86750246|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com12/31/2002 10:23:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|So Long, 2002 This has been a remarkable year for me. Big changes. Big decisions. Big revelations. And lots of great new music. As I said, I'll be ringing in the New Year down at the Galt House with all of my Bluegrass friends. It should be a classy evening with some fantastic music and great friends. This past year has been one of constant change for me, and I anticipate some very big changes again in this coming year. It may sound ridiculous, but 23 feels old. I feel a rising sense of urgency. Wasted days sit heavy on my shoulders and each one bends my knees a little deeper. Eventually that weight will be too much to bear and I will have to move - slide out from under the burden of misdirected effort and step forward into the next phase of my life. Thanks to all the people who have read my site. I never set out to make this anything other than a forum for my writing. Nearly a year out of college, I found myself without a good creative outlet and this site served that purpose nicely. It is pleasantly surprising that anyone else might find it interesting. See you in 2003. |W|P|86749572|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com12/30/2002 12:29:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Mike, Michelle and I went on a little hike today. If I weren't so exhausted, I'd write all about it now. But being that I am about to pass out, I'll just post this one picture for now and I promise more later. (click the picture for the full-sized version) |W|P|86685370|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com12/26/2002 08:37:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|I am a super-lucky guy. I've got a great bunch of friends and a super-cool family and it's never more evident than during the holidays. For example, here's a list of the great gifts I received: From my mom - enough money to pay off the rest of the Epiphone EB-3 bass I ordered from work Also from mom - the Lord Of The Rings super terrific mega ultra 4-disk DVD set From Sharon - a gift card from BestBuy! and a meat thermometer From Sam and Nap - some much needed towels From my sister, Devon - the wonderful Bjork Greatest Hits collection From my dad - a badass cordless screwdriver/drill Also from dad and his wife Jeanie - the George Forman grill that looks like an imac Just from Jeanie - some much-needed thick boot socks and a gift cert. to The Mall From my friend Tom - an awesome 'homemade' collection of great 60's era British music From Mike and Michelle - the 3-piece set of the Onion books Also from Mike and Michelle - a slick flask with its own carrying case From Lonesometown Glen - the re-issue of Big Sandy's 'On The Go' album From Rocko - a DVD collection of Fleisher Brothers superman cartoons And tonight I went by the very crowded Best Buy to cash in my gift card. I was disappointed that they were out of 'Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robot' by The Flaming Lips, but that was the only disappointment. Hopefully some place in the mall will have it. I walked out of that place with some very important additions to my collection: Interpol - 'Turn on The Bright Lights' Wilco - 'SummerTeeth' The Flaming Lips - 'Transmissions From The Satellite Heart' The Velvet Underground - 'White Light White Heat' Iggy and the Stooges - 'Raw Power' I came home, opened the ridiculously packaged disks and put them all into the changer. Then I popped a couple of MorningStar Farms Grillers into the George Forman and relaxed. And as I relaxed I realized just how lucky I am. I also want to say a huge thank you to all the people who welcomed me into their homes over the past couple days. It's a drag to be alone on Christmas, and I was anything but alone this year. I couldn't have wished for a better gift. |W|P|86567964|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com12/26/2002 04:05:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|I had a wonderful Christmas and I hope you did too. I managed to celebrate with all sorts of family and friends over the past few days. New Year's is shaping up to be a good time too, with the Galt House Bluegrass New Year celebration. Here's hoping the next is better than the last. Also, Tony Pierce has a couple photo essays about the Christmas season in LA for your asses!|W|P|86560365|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com12/23/2002 10:54:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P| R.I.P. Joe Strummer The world is so much worse without you.|W|P|86438013|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com12/20/2002 03:33:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Somebody just sent me this link to a bunch of pictures from this week's jam at the BBC. I'm not in any, probably because I was a bum and left my bass at home.|W|P|86332875|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com12/20/2002 02:08:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|The big plan today was to leave work around 10:30, drive downtown and see My Morning Jacket on WFPK's Live Lunch. I made it out and onto the road by 10:45. As I sped down the Greenbelt Highway Stacy Owen announced that there were already a bunch of people lined up outside. That was not good news, especially since they would only fit 50 or 60 people into the studio for the show. I pulled into the parking garage across fourth street from the HSA-Broadband building, home of Louisville's public radio stations. When I pressed the button to get my ticket for the parking garage nothing came out. Damn. I finally got the attention of the guy in the booth and let him know what happened. He came over, cracked-open the machine, and pulled out a ticket for me. I moved quickly up the ramps of the garage. Nothing on the first floor. Nothing on the second floor. Finally a spot opened in front of me on the third floor. I parked and jumped out of the car, jogged to the stairs and descended quickly. Ugh. The line came into view as I approached the glass doors of the parking garage. There were at least 50 people there already, probably more. I stepped past the queue and noticed most of the folks in the front of the line had stickers on their jackets. Not good news. At the end of the line I spotted a friend who works for the station. She said they would let in as many as they could, but that she couldn't guarantee anything. Everyone around me speculated as to their respective chances of getting in. Nobody was optimistic. Eventually the line began to move. People were ushered in quickly. There was someone standing just inside the doors, counting. I moved closer and closer, actually making it into the foyer. And that's when we stopped. The counter cut us off. They let 65 people in, five more than they should. And there were only five people between me and the show. I glanced to the right where my friend stood. She gave me a look that said "sorry, I can't help". So after a few seconds of evaluating my prospects, I walked out. There would be no show for me today. I took the scenic route back to work, stopping to eat in my car and listen to the show on the radio. It was a fantastic show. Lots of new material and lots of old favorites. It certainly would have been a wonderful thing to see live. They are playing Headliners on January 4, and I plan on buying my tickets in advance.|W|P|86329607|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com12/19/2002 10:02:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|From LA For Christmas There are few things I like better than coming home to find a package in my mailbox. So you can imagine how happy I am now, having come home to packages on two consecutive days. Both came from LA. Both contained books. And both made my day. Yesterday it was Ken Layne's Dot Con. I actually purchased a copy of this one a while ago from the Australian publisher. I ordered this (autographed) copy so I could give one to my friend for Christmas. It's a great book and I'm sure I'll read it many more times. Today I was very pleasantly surprised to find Tony Pierce's Blook crammed into my mailbox. With all his talk about printer trouble and rules against profanity, I was a little concerned. But Tony came through like a champ. He delivered a signed and numbered book along with two special Christmas mix cds. These two little bright spots have turned-around what have been a particularly rough span of days for me. Thanks guys. |W|P|86300006|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com12/16/2002 08:49:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Boy, these Sunday gun range trips could become addictive. Today I spent three hours shooting an amazing array of guns. I took the 12-gauge and the snub-nosed 38 again. Nick brought his 357 and his 9mm. He also bought a Ruger mini-14 which was a blast to shoot. Justin brought his 22 rifle and this ridiculous Hungarian military rifle which jammed every other shot. It shot some sort of strange esoteric ammunition that came wrapped in brown paper, tied with twine. But it sure as hell did some serious damage. And then to my pleasant surprise, my dad made it down. He brought his Glock service pistol, a neat little 380 with quite a punch, his badass 357 magnum and his 30-06 hunting rifle. I didn't try to keep track of how many rounds I fired, but the blister between my thumb and forefinger tells me it was quite a few. We shot mainly at traditional cardboard targets this time around, and bowling pins, and one of those metal spinning targets. The metal target took quite a beating. I hit it several times at about 40 yards with that snub-nosed 38. Usually, when it is hit it spins around, but when Nick, Justin and I hit it with those high powered rifles it barely moved. We were baffled by that until we saw it up close. The bullets had actually blown right through the quarter inch of metal. Perfect little holes, right though. All in all it was a good trip, and I had a good long talk with my dad while cleaning the guns back at his place. These talks always help me sort things out when times get tough. Stress at work has been frying my nerves lately, but a day of shooting and a talk with my dad have me feeling a lot better. It's nice when things work out that way.|W|P|86108562|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com12/14/2002 06:50:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|I said something about a full write up of the Knob Creek Range trip, so here goes. Close Call @ Fort Knox Last Sunday I had to go into work. It's awful and I don't want to talk about it. I called by buddy Nick as I left to see what time he was going to get to the range. He said about an hour. I was about 15 minutes away from KCR at the most, so I grabbed a bite to eat. I'm a fast eater, and was left with another 45 minutes to kill. I decided to take a little drive down the Dixie highway, a drive I hadn't taken in quite a while. I noticed the turn off to Hwy.44 which leads to KCR and made a mental note to look for the big Fishers Meat billboard on my way back. It was a nice drive, taking me past West Point, Otter Creek park, and into Fort Knox. That's where I had a bit of a scary situation. And if anyone of you government types read this, keep in mind that I didn't do anything on purpose. I got into Fort Knox and decided it was about time to turn around and head back towards the range. So I picked an exit where I thought I'd have little trouble turning around. This particular exit was the one leading onto the base and to the Patton Museum. But when I came to the end of the exit ramp, much to my surprise, all of the turning options were closed-off by concrete barriers and orange barrels. I was suddenly funneled into a line awaiting entry to the base, and a security checkpoint. As I approached the checkpoint I saw a sign to the right of the guard booth. It had a big black gun and a big red circle-slash "No". My mind moved quickly to the two guns in my trunk. The two guns that I was innocently going to shoot innocently at the completely legal gun range. I also thought about the fact that these guns were not mine, but my mom's. And then I thought about what life in military prison might be like. I pulled slowly up to the lady in the road checking everyone's ID. "I didn't mean to come in here" I say. "I just need to turn around. I didn't mean to come in here." "Ok. Just pull around there to the inspection point and they'll show you where to go." She directed gently. Great. No problem. Just pull around to the inspection point. Oh Jesus! Did she say INSPECTION POINT?!? Sure enough. She said and meant 'inspection point'. There it was, a little aluminum carport thingy, with about five armed security guards. The guy ahead of me was stopped with his doors open. And his trunk open. And they were going though his stuff. Shit. So I prepared myself. There was going to be a certain point, wherein I would have to decide to tell these guys about the guns in the trunk. It is never a good idea to let police of any sort be surprised by weapons on your person or in your car. By all means, let them know. But on this occasion it was not necessary to blurt out a confession immediately after rolling down my window. No, if they were just going to let me turn around there was no need to cause trouble. They finished with the gentleman ahead of me and motioned for me to pull under the carport. Rolling down my window, I repeated the line I had given the previous screener: "I just need to turn around. I didn't mean to come in here." "I'll need to see your license" he says. I hand it to him with a smile. He walked around to the back of the car, checking the plate and looking at my license. I was quickly approaching my threshold. I was going to have to 'fess up soon and deal with the consequences. He wondered back up to the window, handed me my license, and directed me to go up to the next road and 'hang a u-turn'. The tone of his voice made it pretty clear that if I failed to make said turn, I would be a candidate for target practice out on the tank range. I did as instructed and drove directly back up onto the highway as quickly as possible. I'm not sure if it's possible to drive like you don't have guns in the trunk, but I'll be damned if I didn't try as hard as possible to do just that. "Light 'em Up" I made it over to KCR with little fanfare. My heart finally slowed and the sweat dried. I had to focus on the task ahead. You shouldn't fire deadly weapons when your hands are shaking. The Knob Creek Gun Range, home of the Knob Creek Machine Gun Shoot, lies back a narrow road off of Hwy44. Given that most folks at this gun range drive 4x4s, it was not a surprise that the road had not been cleared. It was a little treacherous, especially crossing the little wood-planked one lane bridge, but the Focus made it. I waited for my friends to arrive, watching people fire all sorts of weapons. Automatic, semi-automatic, muzzle-loaders, riffles, shotguns and handguns. The range sits down in a little valley which provided a hell of an echo. So I inserted the ear plugs I purchased at K-mart the previous week. Nick and his friend Justin arrived shortly, and we got to business. We paid the $7 range fee, purchased ammunition, and set to laying-out our guns. When the horn blew for the cease fire the rangemaster checked for hot muzzle-loaders, allowed them to fire, called for everyone to open their actions and put their guns down. After that process was complete he allowed everyone to go retrieve their targets. We walked down the snowy range to set up the items we brought to shoot. I placed my computer at a decent distance. Nick tried and failed to get his metal post target into the rock-hard ground and then set-up a gallon jug of orange liquid. Justin set up a tin picture of Charles Grodin. We returned to the tables, and prepared to shoot. We shot a wide range of weapons, and as you can see in the pictures, shot the hell out of that computer. It was a hell of a time, and I plan of making a regular trip of it. If only I had an endless supply of junked computers to destroy.|W|P|86008041|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com12/10/2002 10:06:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|It is worth noting that today is the anniversary of the plane crash that killed Otis Redding. His twin-engine Beechcraft crashed into Lake Monona, in Madison, Wisconsin, December 10, 1967. Redding was so much more than "Sittin' On The Dock Of The Bay". His brand of Soul was fiery and passionate, and moved with the intensity of a Pentecostal preacher. Do yourself a favor and pick up any of his great recordings.|W|P|85784424|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com12/10/2002 09:14:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Beware the Peppermint Honcho I shouldn't have to keep posting about this, as you should all be reading Achewood on a daily basis. But damnit, it's so good.|W|P|85782245|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com12/08/2002 07:00:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|I just got back from the Knob Creek Gun Range, where I shot the hell out of a computer. Pictures here. In the first couple of pictures you can see the targets pre-shooting. From left to right, it's a cardboard target, my old computer, a gallon jug of a mysterious orange liquid and a tin picture of Charles Grodin. Once Chuck was appropriately blown apart we taped a picture of Carrot top to the back and had our way with that. Full write up to follow.|W|P|85698475|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com12/05/2002 12:38:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|It sure doesn't take much snow to freak Louisvillians the hell out. Three inches (at the most) on the ground and traffic is at a standstill. It's like everyone forgot what it was like to drive on snow and headed out at exactly the same time I left work to take a stroll on the Waterson x-way. Everything was bumper-to-bumper all the way home. And then nobody showed-up for the jam at the BBC! What the hell is wrong with you people? I've driven though a foot of snow in Chicago while people drove 70mph on the interstate, just to go see a crappy concert downtown. It's just three inches. That's no reason to drive 25mph on the expressway. And if you want to drive slow, stay the hell off of the highway during rush hour. Damn.|W|P|85523224|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com12/04/2002 10:26:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Today is the anniversary of the legendary recording session featuring Elvis Presley, Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash and Jerry Lee Lewis, aka: The Million Dollar Quartet. With all the guest appearances and collaborations in today's recording industry, we should stop for a second and appreciate what a magical moment in history it was when these four giants gathered in one studio. My favorite bit from this recording comes from Elvis. He's describing to the other guys a certain performer he had seen doing one of his songs. He imitates the way the singer enunciated the words, with special focus on "tel-e-phone". Elvis says that this guy was the lead singer of some band called "The Dominoes" and that he liked this version so much that he might start doing it that way himself. Well, as it turns out, the singer Elvis spoke of was none other than the legendary Jackie Wilson.|W|P|85484900|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com12/04/2002 10:05:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Bullit County Adventures: Part 2 After work, I made the long trip out to my mom's house to finish my laundry and eat dinner. My mom wasn't back from work yet, and the dog was going nuts to get inside. Luckily she had either buried or devoured the deer leg she had at lunch. The house was freezing cold. It's a big A-frame on top of a hill, and relies on two wood burning stoves and a couple inconsequential electric baseboard heaters to heat the entire house. The fire in the stove was completely out, so job number one upon entering was to get that thing blazing. Just when I thought I'd lost them, the skills I picked-up as a Boy Scout came back to me to save the day. (The starter log and lighter didn't hurt either. The most important thing to remember when trying to start a fire is to cheat every chance you get. It's neat to be able to start a fire with nothing but a rock and a piece of string, but neat won't keep you warm.) My mom got home not much later and was very grateful to see a fire already going strong. I set about folding my laundry and she started cooking some dinner. (My mom is an excellent cook, and has generations of recipes at her disposal.) Last night she apologized for having to throw something together at the last minute, only to come through with a kick-ass scalloped-potato and ham casserole. So you can see why I travel such long distances to do my laundry. These trips also give me a chance to visit with my mom, who has always been there when I need advice, or when I need to vent. We talked about my failed trip to the gun range last Sunday, and my plans for going this coming weekend. She offered to let me use any of the several guns in her house. I had my choice of a snub-nosed .38, a South-African 9mm or her personal favorite, the 12-gauge shotgun. I opted for the shotgun. In Bullit County, you don't need to worry about target ranges. This is especially true where my mom lives. They have several acres extending down a hill into a ravine behind the house. You can literally fire your guns from the back porch without fear of harming anyone or anything. So that's what I did. I wanted to fire the shotgun before I took it down to the gun range. You don't want to get to a place like that without knowing how to operate your weapon. Those people can smell fear. So I grabbed the 12-gauge and a handful of shells. I stepped out into the side yard and fired away. The flash of fire leaving the end of the barrel on a dark night was spectacular. And the idea of stepping a few yards outside your door and firing into the darkness was enjoyable in itself. I also gave the .38 a few shots, but decided to take the shotgun with me to the range. At Knob Creek, you can take your own targets. Your choice of target, however, is not limited to the traditional paper or cardboard. No, at this range you can bring anything you want, as long as it doesn't have glass. That means a range littered with old cars, refrigerators and other discarded household appliances. My plan is to take something of great symbolic value: something that, when fired upon, will foster the release of stress. So I plan on shooting, with a 12-gauge shotgun, one of my old computers. If at all possible, I will document this stress-release exercise with many pictures. (Pictures in this post belong to the knobcreekshoot.com.)|W|P|85483951|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com12/03/2002 02:10:00 PM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|Bullit County Adventures: Part 1 There are certain things which, when viewed in a strange context, can twist your head completely around. I've seen plenty of deer. I've seen them run across a field, stand peacefully and graze, and I've seen plenty dead on the side of the road. I never think twice about it, other than to worry that one might run out in the road and hit my car. I live close to a rural area, and I know several people who have totaled their cars hitting deer. It happens. But when I stopped out at my mom's place in Bullit County on my lunch break today, the sight of her dog running up to greet me with the bottom half of a deer's leg in her mouth caught me off guard. I was just there to do laundry. As I carried the basket to the door, the dog grabbed her prize and ran to me. She always shows me her latest toy when I come to visit. But the toys are usually fuzzy little things that squeak when squeezed. The leg was fuzzy, but I didn't bother to squeeze it. Normally, a lunchtime visit from me means the dog gets a rare mid-day trip inside. She has plenty of room to run outside and is typically ready to go back out minutes after being let in. But a few minutes inside next to the wood burning stove on a cold day must have sounded pretty good. She was bound and determined to come in with me, and with the leg. So while trying to open the door with one hand and pinning the laundry basket to my hip with the other, I tried to keep the dog and the leg outside with my feet. I succeeded, but the dog sat and barked at the door for the remainder of my visit, dragging her claws down the screen door. On my way out I kicked the discarded limb off of the deck, onto the ground. It's remaining joint bent a little as it hit the dirt, attesting to the recently living parts still connected under the skin. The dog grabbed it and ran off to her doghouse, obviously dejected. I have no problem with killing animals, whether it is for food, population control, or sport. I have no moral objection to hunting, or carnivorous behavior in general. But seeing a dismembered limb on my mom's porch while visiting to do laundry threw me a little out of whack. I guess I should be glad it was just a leg. The same dog has been known to come back from the woods with larger portions of deer, birds of varying sizes, and on one special occasion, a screaming bloody dying kitten. Now that would have made it difficult to concentrate on work. (Pic from thenaturalist.com) |W|P|85438508|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com12/02/2002 10:34:00 AM|W|P|Jackson|W|P|I'm not a big fan of the "Oh my god, there is nothing going on. I am soooo bored." posts. So I'll just say that I'm probably going to be on a temporary posting vacation that started unofficially last Wednesday. There haven't been many good concerts, and my trip to the Knob Creek Gun Range (which I venture would have been worth writing about) was postponed. I've got a few pictures I'd like to post, so maybe I'll get those up here this week.|W|P|85379843|W|P||W|P|jacksoncooper@gmail.com