rock over London. rock on, Chicago.

PROLOGUE — Rick Perry made a spectacular ass of himself on live television last night. if you have any, you should make your children watch this. god bless this age of media we live in.

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MERRY MUSIC MEMORIES — I was in the seventh grade, and it was Christmas Morning. the big gift that year from Santa or grandma was a Sony Discman. moments after its arrival, the first CD to ever fall into my possession became “fashion nugget” by Cake.  it came as the requisite accessory.

I remember sitting in the La-Z-Boy in the living room in Indiana and listening to that album. it was, and remains, a good one, but not one that’s left a lasting  impression on me. I don’t mean any disrespect to Cake’s music, you see. it just didn’t stick; I was more interested in getting stupid stickers to smear all over the new Discman. I remember feeling that was of great import. my piece de resistance ended up being one that I got from a Klondike Bar wrapper. but I digress.

Cake’s good, I really mean it, yeah. but the second album that I ever came to own, the second one was called “the action is go” by Fu Manchu. Fu Manchu, they stuck around.

I thought this shit was great. my brother got it for me, and I remember later listening to them at his apartment in Mount Pleasant in 1997 or 98. when he got rid of a bunch of his old records, I got earlier and later albums. Fu Manchu ruled. they played so loud that the music sounded fuzzy, like it was coming in hot, and the band felt cool while I was not. and that last sentence just … rhymed. totally unintentional.

they sang about shit that I couldn’t understand — and I later figured out why that was; they were singing about nonsense like drag racing and pin ball. but I found myself listening to them through college, into my twenties, and even now. still in my twenties. but Aarti gave me an old iPod of hers and I’ve got a couple of their albums on that thing. you get the idea.

anyway. I was able to see them play once, with my friend Pat, about five years ago when I briefly lived in California. the club was in a small strip mall in Costa Mesa. I went to In-N-Out Burger just before the show, and watched them unload their own shit out of an Econoline van after the opening act.

and then I was able to see them again last year, here in DC with Aarti, who would totally tell you it was an awesome show. and now it would appear they are coming back again.

fine by me, I say! the guys from Fu Manchu have got to be 40, or only months out, but they’ve got enough left in them that I can double that up with nostalgia and spend a School Night going to see them. as such: if you live in Washington DC, you could probably do better on a thursday evening than checking out Fu Manchu. yeah, probably. but you could do a whole lot worse.

Fu Manchu next thursday at the Black Cat.

man oh man. where has the time gone.

I haven’t looked at this blog in … over a month. I don’t even know what’s at the top of the page right now; something banal, no doubt. sometimes, it would seem, you just need a break.

so what’s been going on?

okay, well, I ran a marathon.

not well, by any I means. I just ran it — I kind of, sort of purposefully avoided using any training schedule beyond “run far on the weekends.” and having done so I don’t think there’s anything especially wrong with doing it this way. though I’m not suggesting that this, uh, open-ended approach to marathon training made me the fastest motherscratcher on the course. I finished in a little under four and a half hours, dying. and I had wanted to run a sub-four-hour race. shows what my opinion of myself was.

I just … I don’t know. the culture of running is a little grating sometimes. you should have heard the awful rap rock the PA system was blaring at the start of the race. and you should see all of the dumb athletic gear that people blow money on. and when the hell did running shoes get so goddamn expensive?

all of this, I will readily admit, I complain about while recognizing the fact that I am a curmudgeon and a cynic, even if my station in life shouldn’t position me to be. (I’ve got it pretty good.) but that doesn’t make it any less true.

because the best thing about the marathon was training for it. running a long way by yourself on a weekend afternoon when you’ve cleared away all of the other shit you have to do — that’s fun, or it is to me at least. all you have to do is run, and pay attention to the traffic. it’s a good way to get to know your city.

the marathon itself is simply the goal, and it’s one that cost $100 to sign up for, so you might as well run toward it. while it keeps you moving, it’s not like most of us will be setting any records on the big day. so appreciate what running that much over a drawn-out period does to keep your office-bound ass flexible and moving, and take what it gives you. you could be sitting on the couch, working on increasing your cholesterol count.

this is how I try approach running.

what else … I went on a business trip — honest to god, I did — to the bustling metropolis of Kalamazoo, Michigan, where we held a semi-successful press conference highlighting the short- and long-term economic benefits of support for early childhood education programs. are you convinced? if not, let’s go drink a cup of coffee and I will try and convince you. anyway, while there I got my own room at the Quality Inn, so I stayed up late and watched Skinemax. you would have too.

I grew a beard. I’m pretty sure Aarti hates it. and it kind of itches. I don’t know how long it’s gonna last. no pictures of it as of yet.

and, politics. In Washington, you have a bunch of recalcitrant assholes (Congress) have named some of the worst among themselves (the “supercommittee”) to come up with $1.2 trillion in deficit cuts over the next decade, or automatic cuts will affect programs that everyone holds dear. they’ve had a month or so now to figure out how to do that, and have gotten nowhere. they have two weeks until their deadline. don’t hold your breath.

while in Real America, this cartoon character is still somehow on top of the polls, despite blonde lady after blonde lady from sexual harassment claims past coming out of the woodwork. I feel bad for these women. when GOP presidential primary candidate Herman Cain began flailing around a few months ago, pleasing crowds of self-assured Bitter Clingers, his then-unknown accusers from his wild years at the National Restaurant Association must have made dour faces at the television– but reassured themselves, happy that he’s bound to be an also-ran. and when it became his turn to be Not Mitt Romney, these accusers probably brought up Cain’s depressing growth in popularity with close acquaintances and husbands, who probably felt just a touch of emasculation. and when it became clear that Cain was going to turn his 15 minutes in the glow of the spotlight into something like 30 or 45, and ridiculous shit from his past started to surface …

.
… they probably thought, “O Jesus Christ. when will the opposition research boys and Professional Journalists get to his on-file sexual harassment claims? it’s only a matter of time.”

and then it was here, a Sunday that the story broke. and there was Cain arguing with a press gaggle, flustered and unbelieving that this kind of thing would get brought up while he’s trying to Save America from Socialism and Wealth Redistribution. and his accusers knew it was only a matter of time before some media outlet broke rank and made their names public, even if they didn’t want to be named. (turns out it was TheDaily.com! what’s that, you ask? “The Daily is a category first: a tablet-native national news brand built from the ground up to publish original content exclusively for the iPad.” sounds serious.)

and now, the Herman Cain campaign is shitting all over these women, in an effort to disparage their characters, and therefore make their claims less … believable? that’s the plan, right? I wonder how that will go.

oh well. the cat’s out of the bag, and their holiday seasons are going to suck. all we can do now is wish the best of luck to Herman Cain. he’s got another televised debate with the other stiffs who are in the running for the GOP nomination in about … 20 hours. I’m sure none of this will come up. and he can focus on his flat tax horseshit, and mispronouncing the names of a few foreign countries.

… and that’s it. I’m sure that’s more than enough bullshit to get me back in the habit of vomiting up whatever’s on my mind. tomorrow is Wednesday. that’s only a day away from a new Beavis and Butt-head cartoon. cause we got that cartoon back. so yeah, I’d say we’re making progress, America. since you’re asking.