It’s the first of June, and as Ethan Henry has reminded me via email it’s National Accordion Awareness Month!
Here’s an photo perfect for kicking off this special month…

“Damn, it feels good to be a gangsta…”
It’s the first of June, and as Ethan Henry has reminded me via email it’s National Accordion Awareness Month!
Here’s an photo perfect for kicking off this special month…

“Damn, it feels good to be a gangsta…”
one’s from Stacy — she links to a lyrics site where one of the
commenters says that the lyrics to the Pixies’ oddly Beatles-esque and poppiest tune is about Nagasaki.
Here are the lyrics:
outside there’s a box car waiting
outside the family stew
out by the fire breathing
outside we wait ’til face turns blue
i know the nervous walking
i know the dirty beard hangs
out by the box car waiting
take me away to nowhere plains
there is a wait so long
here comes your man
big shake on the box car moving
big shake to the land that’s falling down
is a wind makes a palm stop blowing
a big, big stone fall and break my crown
there is a wait so long
you’ll never wait so long
here comes your man
there is a wait so long
you’ll never wait so long
here comes your man
The commenter’s theory that the song is about Nagasaki is based on the fact that the delivery vehicle for the A-bomb — named Fat Man — was a B-29 bomber named the Bockscar, which will have flown the mission 60 years ago this August 9th. Given lead vocalist Black Francis‘
(a.k.a. Frank Black, a.k.a. Charles Michael Kittridge Thompson IV)
predilection for odd topics and science in his lyrics, I’d say that
this commenter could be right.
Lisa lives in Tel Aviv and writes very fascinating pieces about life there. In this entry, she talks to three men…
You’d be surprised what each of them has to say.
Nobody does the funny quite like Min Jung, who’s figured out and documented the lifecycle of bloggers:
decide that as a result of step 10 and having repeated step 5 more than
3 times in the course of your lifecycle as a blogger, that you need to
sanitize or reinvent your blog.”
either lose your job because of blogging, are afraid of losing your job
for blogging, or join a company that builds blogging tools.”
[via Torontoist] The church sign at the corner of Avenue Road and Dupont:

Furthermore, you have to use UDP…

Liz “I Speak of Dreams” Ditz pointed me to a blog entry in which a missing man’s friends are asking for help:
A friend of mine, David Koch, is missing on a mountain in Canada [Grouse Mountain, not far from Vancouver], and
I’m looking for help to publicize his situation so the Canadian
authorities don’t give up looking.
Dave’s the associate publisher on DMReview,
a Thomson/SourceMedia publication. He drove from Seattle toward
Vancouver on Wednesday, stopping in late afternoon to take a tram up a
mountain he and his wife had visited years before. Apparently he missed
the tram back, and attempted to hike down. He hasn’t been heard from
since.
A search effort was organized, but it’s looking like the authorities in Canada are starting to give up.
Dave is a truly great person, and I simply can’t imagine that he
could be left on his own at this point. I’m looking for any contacts
you can suggest in the national media – NYTimes, the wires, broadcast,
etc. – who might be able to recommend a reporter who could help to
publicize Dave’s situation. If you have any ideas as to how we should
go about the process, please email me or call me any time day or night.
[via Just a Gwai Lo] Food for thought from an article in the blog called The Cake Eater Chronicles titled Lonely or Broken?
How many people do you know who seem to have a serious attachment to
being lonely? They’ve made loneliness into their mate and they talk
about loneliness the way some women and men talk about their
significant others. Because those people are out there. I’m sure you’ve
met a few: single women and men who constantly bemoan how if only I could meet the right person
and then never actually get off their ass to do something about it. You
invite them out, you introduce them to someone you think they’ll get
along with, hoping against hope that this will get them to quit their
bitching, or at least move to a new stage of bitching, and five minutes
later—POOF!—they’ve hit the self-destruct button and are back at
your side, bitching and moaning again, about how that person wasn’t
right for them, what were you thinking, etc. They have run back to
their ever faithful mate: loneliness. These are the people, in my
experience, who have the ideal mate all laid out in their mind and they
won’t settle for anything but that, while they know, somewhere in the
back of their mind, that said ideal mate simply does not exist in
reality. They set the bar too high for any mere mortal to pass over.
In other words: there are people out there for whom loneliness is their drug of choice and, boy are they ever addicted to it.
The scene: The Bishop and the Belcher, a pub on Queen Street West, Accordion City. I’m there attending a farewell party for popular Toronto blogger Christie St. Martin, who’s moving to Brooklyn. I have my accordion, which I’m wearing in “backpack mode”.
Two young women dressed in punk-goth style walk past me while I’m near the bar, talking to Eva.
Woman 1 (to me): Hey, an accordion! Oh, it’s you, Accordion Guy!
Woman 2: Accordion Guy? He’s real?
(This sort of thing has happened before.)