Holy cow, things got busy in a hurry.

We played Emporia on Friday night and Manhattan Saturday morning. I attended a wedding Saturday night that was simply crazy. Sunday we played in Topeka, KS. I got up early and went to Russell for an auction. We finally left about 2:00pm and arrived back in Manhattan at 5:30am, only to get up and do another auction in town the next night. I left Wednesday for Kansas City for an auctioneer meeting with technology industry leaders that lasted Wednesday night and all day today, only to hurry back to Manhattan this afternoon for an auction tonight. We got done a little early, so I headed to Longhorn’s to see Pete open for Kevin Fowler. I’m sorry to say that I couldn’t hang but for a song or two before I just couldn’t do it anymore–not that I couldn’t listen to Pete, but I just couldn’t stay standing without sleeping.

I was watching baseball after the auction on Tuesday with Chris down at Buffalo Wild Wings and we were talking about instant replay. The conversation got me thinking about my mother and how she used to wake me for school with the most random things. Whatever she heard on the news in the morning as she was headed up the stairs she would tell me to get me thinking about something and to have a reason to wake up. I only remembered because I actually remember the time she told me that the NFL had decided to allow instant replay. I really don’t care about the NFL and instant replay, but at the time it seemed to be a very important issue because she told me it was as I was regaining conciousness. I wish my alarm clock would do shit like that. I can’t even get it to find an NPR station.

Vote, you bastards. Do what’s good for the country. Listen to NPR, watch Studio 60, and vote for all the democrats.

Sunday evening we played at a bar in Topeka, Kansas, called Heart Attack Jacks. We went over and set up our equipment by 6:00pm. We had been looking forward to eating at the Blind Tiger since the last time we played at Jack’s. They have a microbrew beer there called something like Maibock that is just fantastic. They were out of the beer. We sat and ate and waited on Dusty. He got there at about 7:30pm and we were supposed to start at 8:00pm. He delayed our return to the bar. We finally began playing at 8:35pm CDT. Halfway around the world, at that same exact moment, North Korea became a nuclear power.

I wonder why we can invade Iraq based on assurances of weapons of mass destruction and the fear of a nuclear threat from one of the countries of the Axis of Evil presented by our own administration and we won’t invade another country of the same Axis of Evil even when they warn us and tell us that they have the bomb and plan to test it. Perhaps if Kim Jong-il jumped up and down and yelled, "Hey! Over here!" the Bush administration might have at least turned it’s head. Wait. He did. It didn’t.

I’ve developed this bad habit of buying a bottle of single malt scotch and having a drink or two and leaving it at my house. I, in my laziness to drive back to my house, end up buying another bottle before the next occasion, which I, in turn, leave at my house. I’m developing a collection. I guess its better than drinking the collection.

I’ve found that most single malts taste like bottled up smoke from a tire fire. However, if it says Islay on the bottle, it’s going to taste like the bottled up ashes left after the tires burned. You can actually taste the rubber. It’s mmmmmm-good.

G and I watched a couple more episodes of The West Coast tonight. It’s going to be great if they don’t cancel it.

"It’s not the First Amendment, it’s not religious freedom, it’s not church and state, it’s not…abstract. It’s the fourth grader who gets his ass kicked at recess because he sat out the voluntary school prayer in homeroom. It’s another way of making kids different from other kids. And they’re required by law to be there. That’s why you want it front and centre. The fourth grader. That’s the prize." -Toby in an episode called "Shibboleth" from Aaron Sorkin’s The West Wing

School prayer is fine so long as you’re a christian or a Catholic.

I watched Bill Clinton crush that twerp from Fox News. It made me remember what it was like to have a president who could construct sentences. He said something very profound. Democracy is more than majority rule. It’s about minority rights, too. When we stop protecting the minority, we begin to lose our most important freedoms.

Last night I asked Mike, one of our employees at the Purple Wave, if he’d ever heard of a book called What’s the Matter with Kansas?
He said, "No, but it must be thick."

I went to the Union last night to see Thomas Frank, the author, give a lecture. He makes a big assumption, both when he speaks and when he writes. He goes on and on talking about how liberals are the scourge of America and presumes that his audience will understand that he is quoting the conservative perspective. I looked around at the hilljacks in the audience and wondered if they actually understood his satire.

Where do I begin? We had some killer shows in Hays, arrested a guy for impersonating a police officer, played Lawrence and Topeka and Kansas City and Manhattan and hosed an amplifier since the last log. I had the time of my life playing with Blaine, Pete, Titts, and Russel in Emporia and had a good-for-the-soul experience getting paid pennies at Buster’s. I had an amp rack fall off the stack in the back of my truck and, because it was strapped on, fall back and leave a huge dent in the side of my bed. There was a coup d’état in Thailand, Ford and Intel fired a bunch of people, the crew of the shuttle lost some bolts — though I’ve done the same on a Massey Ferguson — the crock hunter died, someone messed with Texas in football, and the West Wing is getting better the second time around. Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip is going to be the shit-diggity. The band has a mascot, Mason has new drums, we have a monthly at Bobby T’s, we booked Thanksgiving at Buster’s.

We’re getting ready for Peace Treaty this weekend. Big show, little dough.

I am full of mirth. Don’t ever forget it.

We’re selling 3000 head of geese a week from Tuesday. I’m not making this up. It’s fitting, really. I got my ass kicked by a goose when I was a kid. The thing came at me, wings dispread, head locked down in attack position. I was only four or five at the time, but I guess I had already figured out how to piss off poultry.

My truck is going to have its transmission rebuilt in addition to the new clutch. I figured $1800 was a better amount to spend than $800.

Getting ready for this weekend. It’s frustrating, managing the laundry list of things to do before heading to Bobby T’s, including ensuring my crew is ready for the auction in Lincoln, NE, tomorrow in my absence.

Bid on the geese. Put them in your freezer. Make pillows. Feed them to your lion herd.

Here I sit loading Counter Strike.
I’m getting ready to go to Phillipsburg for an auction.
I’ll have to drive a Chevy.
I’m having a new clutch put in my truck.
Nothing like a $1000 repair after spending the same on new equipment.

Put a grill guard on last week
Got another 6"
Ready to gobble some deer this fall

It’s been a long weekend. We missed Dusty at Duffy’s in Lawrence. We saw someone get into a brawl. He had something like 30 staples in his head the next day by the time we woke up at 1:00pm.

I just finished watching the Comedy Central roast of William Shatner.

G passed out on the couch. I guess he didn’t have on Star Trek underwear.

The website keeps moving along. We bought some new equipment this weekend. Faster, stronger, better.

My clutch is going out again.