breakfast of champions

today seemed impossible. i put a thousand hurdles in my own way when i woke up at logan airport this morning sick and groggy. my ears wouldn't pop. i hated the guy sitting next to me, just for being there. i hated the way the stewerdess looked at me when i gave up my blanket. it did not seem like i'd be able to get myself in a good mood.

then, a literal turn around and i was able to completely start over.

it was when i craned my neck in time to hear the young eastern-european mother sitting in the row behind me ask her son "alex, did you dream about pancakes again?" that i felt like life wasn't so bad, if bad at all.





we are free to dream of pancakes, over and over and our mothers will never tire of the magnificence of our dreams. what a charmed life we lead!

bunny loops

there is this one unreleased shellac song that i have a live recording of. steve albini quotes "roadrunner" in it. its like tying a shoelace.

remnds me of seattle when i was at the junction of 405 (which takes me to/from LAX) and 90 (a portion of which is the Massachusetts Turnpike). a binding of my bi-coastal life.

and in san pedro a month ago, ren and i stood nervously in a kitchen, steps away from mike watt. the same mike watt i shook hands with some ten years earlier in boston, when ken and i went to see him play at avalon. ren and i, growing old, hanging out in southern california feeling the same nervous excitement ken and i, growing up, felt in boston. i'm a fucking corndog through and through.

i have no real conclusion, except that there's always a route home, whatever that means.

kids and their dreams; kids in their dreams

serious delirium. serious as cancer. we were. and i'd like to think we are now, more than ever, even though limits get together once, maybe twice a year.

serious as holidays.