Me and Link

Me: Hey Link, what do you want to do?
Link: Meooww ("go read a blog")
Me: Hey, whw's blog do you want to read?
Link: Meehh ("Hmm let me think about it")
Me: Link I don't have all night to sit here and watch you think
Link: Meeeeeeow? ("Why the heck not?")
Me: Listen, I have a lot of stuff to do...what blog do you want to read?
Link: [squints, thumps tail on the floor menacingly, and just stares me down]
Me: Ok well how about if we jump over to Keith and Andrew to see what's shaking down there? Is that ok with you?
Link: [raises cat head] Mhhheehh (Fine, do what you want, but you better at least give me a shout out in that stupid rheumatic blog of yours)
Andrew: Alright, fine.
Link [puts head down]

This is a conversation that Link the Cat and I had about going to see some of
this!

New post New Post!

Have you ever tried to make a bonfire, and then upon successfully building it the fire spills over to another location only to ignite that area in flames as well?! I once went to a friend's house where this guy was trying to make a bonfire. He piled a ton of newspaper, a ton of logs, and about 16 fl. oz. of Zippo lighter fluid together amidst a ring of small stones. The kicker to the whole shebang was that in the grass he squirted another trail of lighter fluid leading from his seat, to where the fire was going to be lit. While images of imminent doom flashed though my mind, a light flashed up in this kid's hand and he dropped a match onto the freshly laid trail of lighter fluid. In a flash, fire was zipping through the lawn, ultimately reaching the bonfire and igniting it swiftly. This guy's crazy plan to light a fire actually worked, and the fire burned with such intensity that we all had to move our chairs back further from the new fire. Anyway, the point of this whole story is that I have a new blog up on Keith and Andrew's blog. I have thus lain lighter fluid in the grass of your mind, and this post is the spark that will send you racing to my other blog! And oddly enough, there's some fire imagery in the other blog. Go check it out quick, before it dies down again!!

Take off your pants, do the hippie dance!!

It's been a long time coming, I know.

So I was at this bar the other night watching the
Jeff Coffin Mu'tet, which turned out to be a mind blowing show. The dudes in this band were so stinking good, but that's to be expected when they keyboard player's brother is the keyboardist for the Allman Brothers, and the drummer's name is "Futureman 2050". Several times throughout the show, while still playing the tenor saxophone, Jeff Coffin goes over, picks up his alto sax, and starts playing them both at the same time!!! The songs they put together were phenomenal, the line up is extraordinary, and they're on a short small-venue tour so you GOTTA go check them out.

Endorsements aside, there was a part of the evening that struck me as disadvantaged*. We're in this bar, watching a jazz/funk quartet just get down and nasty right? Most people in the audience are respectable citizens of the Boone, NC or Blowing Rock, NC area...myself obviously included. So we're all having a good time, and I'm standing towards the back of the restaurant really trying to pay attention to the music. This can be serious stuff for me, people...when I'm really digging a band, I need to concentrate on the music. I'm listening, and feeling what these dudes are throwing down, and then all of a sudden I feel these little bugs jumping on me. Then as I'm brushing these body mites (i.e. crabs) off of me, I start to smell a very familiar, yet not too fond smell. yep ladies and gentlemen, the mites accompanied by the small of pachouli oil can only mean one thing when you're crammed into a little bar...some dirty, dirty hippies are heading your way.

These two dudes drifted in like hippies usually do, ambling around the bar in a sort of stupor. They saw that tbe band was playing, and where did they go to watch the band? That's right...directly in front of me. As I threw back my entire beer in an effort to avoid getting upset that these kids had ruined my view,I began to reflect on some of the idiosyncracies of hippies. Hippies are amazing, because whereas I might like to keep a 3 foot personal space buffer around me at all time, they like to keep maybe a 6 inch buffer between them and any person near them. So when I say these dudes floated in to stand in front of me, I mean like they were standing practically on the tips of my shoes. Another great thing about hippies is that they're all white. I have never seen a hippie who was anything other than a skinny white dude or chick. And no matter how dirty and nappy and smelly hippies my age are, for some reason I can always picture them wearing a suit and tie in 10 years. It's like they're little kids playing dress up, but they get dressed up in dirt and essential oils and bong resin instead of nice clothes. I know it's weird, but that's just the impression that I get.

Ok, ok I'm coming to the real point of this story. To me, the most amazing thing about hippies is that no matter what's going on around them-whether music is playing, or they're hearing a public address, or they're riding in a car-hippies can always find a way to dance. They always find a reason to dance. And the great thing about the hippie dance is that you can call it THE hippie dance and everyone knows exactly what kind of dance you're talking about. Go through it with me here:

First**: shift your weight over to your right foot.

Second: bend your right knee and stoop down a little bit. Rotate your shoulders back almost like you're dodging a ball that someone is throwing over your left shoulder. All weight should be shifted to the right foot, and your left foot should be a little off the ground.

Third: Now put both feet down, stand up straight, shift your weight to your left foot.

Fourth: bend your left knee, and stoop down a little bit. Do the whole shoulder rotate thing, but pretend that the ball is coming at your right shoulder. Now all weight should be on your left foot, and your right foot should be a little off the ground.

Fifth: Keep repeating these steps over and over in a slow, somewhat halting movement, like you're thinking about every single movement that your body is making.

Congratulations, you have earned "Hippie Dance" Skills! And the answer to your next question is yes, I have spent the past 10 minutes doing the hippie dance over and over just so I could explain it to you. You better be trying it yourself, just to make my efforts worthwhile. But seriously, wherever there are hippies, you see the same dang dance without fail!! These dudes, hippie-ed out as they were, couldn't even get the hippie dance consistently right. They would do it fine for a few seconds, then pause, sort of giggle and poke each other, shake their dreads, and mess up the dance. Then the one hippie dude would hop very gingerly from one foot to the other in a crouched stance, almost as if he was Gulliver trying to hop over a Liliputian NASCAR race. It was the lamest, most awkwardly carried out dance I've ever seen. Granted these dudes had the dancing ability deck stacked against them from the start (White + Hippie + High + Trying to Dance to Jazz), but I think they made Jerry Garcia roll in his grave.

The dancing was awful, and it really took away from my experience with the Jeff Coffin Mu'tet. Fortunately, one of the hallmarks of the hippie subculture is gross personal apathy. After about 10 minutes of awkwardly dancing "the hippie dance", they gave up and went to drink beer. Anyway, the whole scene was at once incredibly weird and in the selfsame moment completely predictable. I live in a hippie town now, so I shouldn't be surprised. But for you kids out there who don't get to see and smell rich hippie white kids too often, next time you see them starting to do their little dance routine do them a favor:

1) make sure you instruct them on how to properly hippie dance and
2) make sure you direct them to the nearest bar so then that apathy does sit in, they'll be out of your way for the rest of the night.




* I'm trying to say 'disadvantaged' instead of 'retarded' in an effort to be more sensitive...pff.

** This is the hippie dance for a DUDE! For a chick, all you have to do is sway from side to side and put your hands in the air. The hippie dance for dudes is really a lot harder, though both can easily be accomplished by your average kindergartner.

go to my old blog!

I made a new post, but am going to make you go read it in my old blog that my former colleague and I used to write. It's a great blog, and is sure to make you smarter*!


http://keithandandrew.blogspot.com

I think that's the address!!

"Gordon what should I post about?"

That's the question I just asked to Gordon, while sitting here in the graduate student lounge. I realize that I haven't blogged in a long time and that I'm losing friend by the second. So listen to me...this is a new post.

First, let me tell you what's going on.

1) Jessica is awesome. Jessica kind of had a bad day, because she found out that she didn't do as well as me on a test. I feel bad for her. She's a really nice gal, and she knows a lot about China. Jessica actually told me that if you are eating at a business function in China, you're not supposed to place your chopsticks on your plate as such:

I know that what you are looking at is a grey square...there's supposed to be a picture in there...but there isn't. Click on it and you can see what I'm talking about. She also told me that she likes it when Tim tickles her eggs. I'm not quite sure what this means, but that leads me to my next point which is...

2) Tim is a cool kid too, but he's also even more angry that I got a better score on a test than he did. If you were to picture in your mind what a hippie would look like...you would be unknowingly picturing Tim in your mind. But he's a great dude. Tim plays what I like to call "The Boomstick"...aka the bass guitar.

3) Speaking of BASS!! Gordon was partially responsible for helping me post this. He is the one who suggested that I catalogue the people around me and their positive attributes. Gordon doesn't have to do a whole lot with the word 'bass', but since bass is the lower limit of the musical scale and since I'm reaching the lower limits of this page, I figured that it was appropriate.

4) On an ancillary note, I've turned in several papers for my Organizational Behavior Class, all of which have be returned to me with red splattered all across the pages which I had so carefully crafted. Not to boast, but I think of myself as a pretty good writer. However my writing style is going through some forced growing pains. According to the projections of my professor, he can help my writing not be "flowerey" and "nice" but rather "scientific" and "parsimonious". Hence the abbreviated, somewhat halting and awkward style in this blog. I don't know if I'll ever again be able to capture the puffery which characterized my former blogs. I do lament this change. But I don't have enough time to be sad about it, because that's not scientific.

New Post TWO~~

Hey all,

I'm not really going to post anything awesome, but listen to this: Instead of riding the appalcart I've been taking some time to really explore Boone in the Fall. I know back in my hallowed days at the Grove City College (I can say that now because I don't work there...wait...), one of the best pieces of advice that anyone ever gave me was this: Do not get so absorbed in your work, making friends, being awesome that you miss the Fall season at Grove City. I absolutely paid no attention to that advice until about junior year, when I realized that Grove City may acually be the most beautifully landscaped campus within 500 miles of Grove City, PA. Since then I never took Fall for granted, and subsequently have tried my best not to let Fall pass me by here in the High Country. So for those wondering what I've been doing with my down time in graduate school...I've been keeping a close eye on the Fall.

and this one...

and let's not forget this stuff...

and how about this...

oh and you wanted to see Grandfather Mountain? The highest peak in North Carloina? Here you go friends!

Alright, Ansell Adams I am not, but I hope that these pictures do give you a good idea of what every day of my life is like here in Boone. The wonders of Fall haven't fallen on distracted eyes again...it really is amazing to take in the area around me and also to take time to just chill out and enjoy Creation. I still haven't ridden the appalcart since my riveting adventure with Seth. But ask yourself this...would you rather be on a bus listening to Betty Jo Socialite blabbing away about how many beers she and Football Jim Jethro bonged together, or would you rather be living life where two dimensions (even an inspiring two dimensions) still fail to capture the wonder of living? I know where I'd rather be.

New post!!!

Hello everyone,

I know that I have been extremely lax in my responsibilities to post little adventures from my appalcart travels. But listen to this story and revel in its goodness*

I rode the appalcart for the first time about 2 days ago. I know what you are thinking:"Andrew!You've been in Boone for almost 2 months now and the first time that your fine fanny has touched an appalcart seat was on Monday???!!!" I know, it's ridiculous right? Well rest assured your patience, and persistence in checking in on me has certainly not paid off. I had the most uneventful ride on the appalcart ever. I happened to be at my friend Seth's house, and we decided that it would be a good idea to go play racqutball (read: Seth thought it would be a great idea to let me pummel him in racquetball**)! That's about as exciting as the rest of the story gets, folks, so if you have other things to do you better get back to work.

So Seth and I decide to go play racquetball. Rather than take my car, or take his car, or God forbid we walk to the gym, we decided to take the appalcart. After making such a weighty decision, we climbed up the stairs located just outside the front of his house. We climbed and climbed up this monster of a staircase only to be greeted by (the appalcart?!) an appalcart bus stop sans the bus. We waited, and waited, and waited. It turns out that the appalcart isn't always on time, which is great because I have absolutely nowhere to be and nothing more important to do than sit around and wait for the gas guzzling appalcart. After 6 agonizing minutes the appalcart finally pulled up, swung its doors of welcome open to Seth and I, and we promptly sat down really quickly before the people behind us could take the only 2 free seats on the bus. It goes without saying that Seth and I happen to be particularly conscientious of the needs of other people. After we took our seats, the appalcart began its gentle glide across coarse pavement. No less than 5 minutes later we were shuffled out of the appalcart directly in front of the gym. How about that!!

So that was what my first ride in the appalcart was like. Seth rides it all the time and assures me that sometimes something crazy almost sort of happens, but not generally. I think it goes without saying that there are not a whole lot of appalcart stories that could be more boring that this one, so hopefully Seth is wrong.

GET BACK TO WORK!!!








*this story is not laden with goodness, I just made that up to hook you for at least 4-5 sentences. Did it work?

**As much as I would like to say that I crushed Seth in racquetball, he actually beat me without too much of a struggle.

***I never put 3 asterisks in the story.