Breaking biological news

Apparently, if you don't have a spine and cell-based circulatory fluid, you're not alive.

Squid, sponges, insects? None, apparently, are God's creatures.

On the other hand, this blog article has introduuced me to a wonderful new word: "masturbiblation". Be sure to click the links in the article for more masturbiblation.

Thanks to Will for sending this to me.

Trendy

As usual, I'm ahead of the curve.

Austin Vinyl

I spent last weekend making a quick trip to check out South By Southwest in Austin; more on that in about six months when I get around to it. But in the mean time...

Zach from the Modest Mouse listserv just opened up his new record store in Austin, so Cindy and I stopped by to check it out (and to meet Zach in person). Zach's selling old school and modern hip hop, classic rock, and indie rock. It's chiefly vinyl (old and new), but he has some used CDs as well. Those of you who live in Austin or pass through there from time to time should check it out.

Christmas with Cindy; Christmas with Sabrina and Shawn; Rose Bowl; Staying in; Party; Poor food

1/2

After indulging in some Fazoli's (which is hard to obtain in these parts) and packing up, I was on the road, headed back to where my stuff is. Molly called on the way and invited me over to a little dinner party at her place. The food was good, but the company was a little awkward. Incidentally, that was the last time I've hung out with Molly, so it looks like this thing, which never quite got off the ground, is now, to coninue the aeronautical metaphor, out of runway.

I came home and Cindy came over and we exchanged gifts. She got me a Death Cab DVD (which I had, but hey, at least it means she was on the righ track) and a coffee liquer made from tequila (tasty). I got her a nice selection of beers (Unibroue's 2005, Delirium Tremens, Stone IPA, and Chimay Grand Reserve).

1/3

Sabrina, Shawn and I went to Chuy's for some dinner before they came in to my place to exchange Christmas gifts. They gave me a nifty electronic bartender's guide. I got Shawn a bottle of Delirium Tremens, and Sabrina a shirt displaying a phrase we frequently use, "You rock my small, self-centered universe."

1/4

Wednesday night was the Rose Bowl. I caught up with Sabrina and co. at the Harp, where, for some reason, tortillas were being hurled around the room. Post-game, I caught up with local drunk Dan Sharber
at the Mink.

1/7

Will's friend Ben, who lives in my complex, had a birthday party. Nothing terribly exciting, but something to do.

1/8

I went with Jeff and Jim to dinner at Paulie's. The company was good; the food was not. I had an under-dressed salad and the chicken marsala, which was promoted as a "special" but turned out to be not at all special. It was horribly bland and uninteresting. I regretted having wasted my money on it.

New Year's

12/30

I vacated our room, loaded up the 3, and then took off to the north side of town to get in on some nice brunch action. The empanadas, in particular, were quite good, and I enjoyed getting to catch everybody one last time before I headed out.

I met up with the rest of the Ward clan at the outlet mall in San Marcos. We stopped off in Austin so that I could help Rebecca get her new TV set up, and then we made the final jaunt back to Waco.

I joined Thomas and Ali for a little beer drinking. Our first destination was Cricket's, which was quite crowded, so we tried next door at Malone's (excuse me, Bogart's). That was crowded, too (and a little douchey), so we moved onto George's so that Ali might learn the beauty of the Shiner Big O. I was actually wearing my George's shirt that day; Thom was kind enough to lend me his Iron & Wine shirt so that I wouldn't be that guy.

It was then that the text messages started. It was a Houston number, and not one I knew.

Them: Why don't you ever call me?
Me: I don't recognize this number.
Them: I bet you recognize the pussy!
Me: I still don't know whose number this is.
Them: Let's stop talking about numbers and start talking about fucking.

After the first round, I supposed it was possible that perhaps it was some girl I'd met but never called; after the second one, I knew someone was fucking with me (metaphorically speaking). George's was closing (because they suck like that), so we moved to Hemingway's, where I told Thom to call the number and pretend to be me. There was no answer. Thomas said the name on the voicemail was "Catherine."

It took me about ten seconds of thinking to make the logical step from Catharine to...

Kitten.

And there it was. It was time to have some fun.

Me: OK, Kitten, when are we going to fuck?
Kitten: Damn it, how did you figure that out?
Kitten: Oh, shit, voicemail. Cheater.
Me: Forget how I figured it out. You said something about fucking?

There may have been more. Win joined up; Thomas and Ali took off; Win gave me a ride home with a brief stop off at Krystal, the White Castle of the South.

I was in bed, almost asleep, when the phone rang. It was a (very) drunk Lauren, congratulating me on winning the little text message game and, somehow, shocking kitten with my final responses. We talked for a while and had a nice, drunken conversation.

12/31

I had been working, somewhat, since I had arrived home before christmas at putting together New Year's plans for us. Robyn was an obvious choice. I tried to hunt down Randa just in case she happened to be in town (which she wasn't). Robyn, as of Friday, had decided she was going to host a party, despite being sick. Saturday afternoon, she called and cancelled.

Which left us planless. So, driving to have dinner with my parents and their friends, first at Texas Roadhouse before moving to the less-crowded Elite, I started trying to come up with other ideas. Bennett was in Temple and potentially was willing to host. Thomas and Ali were indisposed in Temple. I really thought our best bet would be to try to catch up with Cindy or Rebecca or LS Lauren in Austin, and could have picked the gang up in Temple on the way there, but Thomas and Ali weren't interested and came on back to Waco.

In the end, they, Bennett, and myself ended up going to Cricket's, because there are few things that can't be resolved with good beer and a cigar. The clientele was a bit douchey (can I use that twice in the same post?) that night, so we staked out a nice corner of the outside balcony and got some beer.

This was a night that I somehow managed to feel like a big spender. The cigars were surprisingly cheap (all under $10). I tipped the girl working that counter, and she seemed very pleasantly surprised that anyone would do such a thing.

I went outside, lit up (with some difficulty; we ended up going through a couple of books of matches), and enjoyed my beer and the company. As midnight got closer, I headed back downstairs to get the celebratory New Year's beer, the most expensive thing Cricket's had to offer, the $18 bottle of Chimay Grand Reserve. The conversation with the bartender went something like this:

Me: Hi, I'll take a bottle of Chimay Grand Reserve.
Bartender: ...
Bartender: The blue label?
Me: Yeah.
Bartender: I'll have to go get that out of the back.
Me (internally): This isn't a $300 bottle of chapagne we're talking about here.
Bartender (returning): We don't have the right glassware for this. Are wine glasses OK?
Me (internally): Thom is going to kill me.
Me: Sure.

We poured the nice stuff up in time for midnight (passing the complimentary, and probably cheap, chapagne). After the first glass, I set about calling everybody that I thought would appreciate it to wish them happy new year's, in total making around 24 calls. David kept calling with orders to Bennett to buy people various drinkable or smokable items on his behalf. Then he called and harrassed the sick Robyn to come and join us, and I finally had to tell him that she was on her way to get him to leave her alone.

I went down to buy a round for everybody on David's dime: a few pricier beers and a Damn Good Shot for me (as I needed a little boost by that point). I paid for the round with the cash Bennett had given me and got several largeish bills back from the same bartender that had sold me the Chimay.

Me: If you'll give me some change, I'll leave a tip.
Bartender: You're obviously not from around here.
Me: Well, I am, but I moved away.
Bartender: Well, you must have learned something since you left.

Win showed up. We closed the place down. I think we went somewhere. Maybe Taco C? Maybe not. I certainly remember Win queueing up That Dog on his iPod, and I instantly loved it. I got home, a little drunk, and slept.

1/1

Mom, Dad and I joined family friends the Hoffmans for some New Year's dinner. I caught up with Thom and Ali after that and we took her to Scruffy Murphy's. Nothing terribly eventful.

Wedding

12/27

After a successful visit to both the doctor and the dentist, a quick drive through and a quick drive through Wendy's, I picked up the Tim half of "Timifer" to give him a ride to San Antonio for the wedding.

Company on road trips is a funny thing. Sometimes it's really nice, and sometimes it just gets in the way of quality rocking out time. This was an instance of the latter, really. I don't have that much in common with Tim, but we did chat about the old marching band days at Baylor (turns out it was a good thing I skipped out on year four).

We arrived somewhat tardy due to Tim's failing to be ready on time, quickly checked into the hotel, and loaded up into the Suburban (or something) that Joe had rented to go try on our tuxes.

Turns out most of us had been ill-measured. Having taken steps to resolve this, we moved on to an evening of bachelor-partying. We started out at the Spurs game, and I paid $15 for nachos and a beer. That was dinner. I survived the game without dying of boredom, and it was on to our next destination.

I won't detail the next few hours because, well, it's not exactly something I want to be part of the public record. Suffice it to say that we had a good time (well, most of us) and I learned two very important things. Most of you have already heard the story; those that haven't need only ask...

By the time we headed back to the hotel for poker, I had a full-on tension headached and spent the rest of the evening curled up on the bed trying to ignore the pain. At least I didn't miss out on much there.

12/28

We awoke late the next morning, or possibly early the next afternoon. Bryan, brother Evan, Tim and I went in search of food and ended up at Fudrucker's, though later we found out that we really should have eaten at Shilo's instead. We killed a little more time, poked around the (very nice) hotel, and headed for the rehearsal, as I was in charge of getting us there in time.

Surprisingly, not only did we make it on time, but we were the only ones who did. We were sitting in the mission, and somebody asked us if we would be singing. I guess we looked musical. We also had somebody tell us to be quiet and respectful, as they were trying to appreciate being in a house of worship. I bit my tongue and skipped out on telling them that we had rented this particular house of worship for our own purposes and that if our talking was a problem, he should consider renting it out himself, and probably something else he should do as well.

The rest of the wedding party showed up, I saw people I hadn't seen in quite some time, we rehearsed, and then departed for the rehearsal dinner.

It was at a Mexican place. The appetizers were the highlight food-wise, particularly the... "diabolitos", was it? Bacon-wrapped chicken stuffed with cheese and jalapeños. Could you fit any more goodness in there? I think not.

Not really wanting to be sociable with relatives of Bryan and Lisa that I would probably never see again, I hung out with Bryan's cousin Paul in a manner as out of the way as possible, and snagged appetizers whenever possible.

The event itself was nice enough. Good stories and well-done toasts and such. And with that done, it was time for part two of the bachelor party. Bryan, Joe and I picked up some beer and mixers from HEB and returned to the hotel. Lisa's aunt had graciously supplied us with some cigars, so we decided to go down to the river walk, light up, and find a bar. Weaving between the hordes of Nebraska fans celebrating their victory, we smoked the very, very long cigars.

We reached the bar that Joe had in mind, ignored the dirty looks that the cigars were drawing, and had some beer, until the place closed, at which point we returned to the hotel. I stayed behind for a minute to finish off the last of my cigar, and we retired for the night.

12/29

We got up none to early and departed to complete our appointed tasks, namely picking up lunch from Central Market and picking up the tuxes, some of which were still not ready, so Customer Service Matt took care of business.

We got back to the hotel, lunched, tried with only moderate success to use hotel ballpoint pens as bottle openers for Dublin Dr. Pepper, and returned to our room, cute photographer girl in tow, dressed, and departed for the mission to get Bryan's ass married.

More pictures were taken at the (beautiful) mission, and I fielded calls from Stephanie to try to get her to the wedding.

The wedding itself was very nice, though the guitarist shamefully used some god awful MIDI backing tracks. Bryan's quite conservative grandfather interjected some crap about Bryan's role as the spiritual head of the household into the prayer and I (literally) bit my tongue (to keep from laughing).

Bryan went through with it and never said the safety word, so my team of men didn't have to stage a fake kidnapping to get him to a car which was fueled, packed, and ready to take him to Canada to start his new life. Just, you know, in case.

I had never been quite sure whether the mariachis that were hired to play after the ceremony were a good idea, but damn if it didn't work well.

After a quick stop at a dollar store to pick up some Dr. Pepper cans with which to decorate Bryan (since there was no car taking the new couple off to their honeymoon), we arrived at the ceremony, I caught up with my parents and my date, and I had some great Mexican-style cocoa.

We had a nice meal, though I didn't get my fill of wine (do I ever?) and somehow we got screwed and got the sham-pagne. The people at our table also turned out to be dirty thieves who stole my chocolates. I enjoyed time catching up with the church crew that was there, and tried (and probably failed) to keep Stephanie entertained. Lisa's family took over the dance floor. Thomas and Ali left to go to their hotel room for reasons which I dare not consider.

The reception kept going, but eventually those of us who were not newlyweds but were inclined to have a few drinks retired to my room. Shawn, in an impressive display of dedication, bought a six pack from the bar (god knows how much that cost him). I, for my part, enjoyed my iced-down Lone Stars. As per my orders, I called Thom to invite him to join us, but he informed me that he was "busy". I told him to get back to work.

We called it a night relatively early.

Revisionist History

In the last few years, I've picked up a few albums that are, in one way or another, revisions of other albums I've owned.

Let It Be... Naked is probably the most dramatic reinvention. Two songs (alothough that's a generous use of the word; both are under a minute) were dropped: "Maggie Mae" and "Dig It". One was added: "Don't Let Me Down" (a personal favorite). All the tracks are alternate takes, and remastered ones at that. The claim is that these stripped-down takes, which in particular eschew the sonic excesses of Phil Spector's strings and choirs. Performance-wise, they aren't all better, but some are. It's also nice to hear the remastered recordings, which are sharper and have more depth than the original CD releases (which were mastered when CD technology was still new).

Next came the Flaming Lips' 5.1 remix of Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots. Splitting the music amongs multiple channels adds a lot, and there may be one or two spots with new effects or small instrumental flourishes, but overall, the music remained the same.

The Lips' next 5.1 release, The Soft Bulletin, brought comparatively bigger changes to that album. The original had two tracks repeated with different mixes, which always struck me as odd. The new version, in addition to the 5.1 mix, drops the duplicates, resequences the tracks, and adds one additional track. There are also more noticable instrumental and sound effect additions.

Modest Mouse rereleased their Moon & Antarctica as a new mix a few years after it was originally released. The changes are subtle, and mainly serve to improve the sonic quality of the album, as frontman Isaac was never, apparently, completely satisfied with the previous mix. There are a few bonus tracks, too, but they don't really count.

Ben Folds Five's Whatever & Ever Amen also saw a rerelease eight years after its debut (wow, it's been a long time). Similar to the Modest Mouse album, the songs are remastered (though perhaps not noticably so), and bonus tracks added. A glaring ommision, however, is the original's hidden track: "Look, I've got your hidden track right here, pal, right here! Listen! Ben Folds is a fuck-in asshole!" It was an addition that I always found rather charming and that, for me, was a very characteristic moment for the band, and its absence is missed.

Another interesting case is the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds (which I happen to think is the greatest album ever). Brian Wilson was deaf in one ear and never mixed in stereo. A stereo mix was constructed for the Pet Sounds boxed set; subsequent releases of the album featured the stereo program in addition to the original mono. There are some slight changes in the mix at points where the original recording was not available as multiple tracks to remix, and I believe these are comparably minor.

Finally, Belle & Sebastian recently performed their seminal If You're Feeling Sinister live in its entirety, and released a recording of it in its entirety on iTunes. It's sort of a rerelease, sort of not.

I would have thought that I'd be against this sort of thing. Such classic albums as those listed above, I usually have memorized down to minute detail. It'd be a shame to lose the click of the tape turning off on Neutral Milk Hotel's In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, for example, as it's a moment of such wonderful finality.

But here are lots of examples where I bought into it. A good portion of it can, probably be chalked up to my rampant consumerism. It helps that many of these revisions occurred under the guise of the artists' original intentions. The Beatles (or at least Paul) wanted a stripped down sound. Isaac was unhappy with his final mix. The Lips were pursuing their multichannel ambitions which began with Zaireeka.

Even the case where things weren't explicitly the artist's intentions, with Pet Sounds, I find the stereo a definite improvement on the original mono.

The only negative change, in my opinion, is the deletion of the ten seconds of hidden track on the Ben Folds Five album.

But there's a fine line between this and the George Lucas, Star Wars Special Edition, Greedo shot first, or walkie talkies instead of guns in ET type of revisionism. How far is too far?