New Bond movie. New Bond trailer.

And if you think the title to the new Bond film is dumb, well I can explain what it means to you, I guess. But I honestly can’t see why anyone wouldn’t like it as a title. It has flow, it has depth and meaning, what else do you need for a good title, exactly?

Someone posted the opening to the Waits show in Ohio. I can’t hear it, no sound on this machine this second, so I don’t know how it sounds, but enjoy.

Also got a full setlist for Saturday night:

• Lucinda
• Way Down in the Hole
• Falling Down
• All the World is Green
• Chocolate Jesus
• Cemetery Polka
• Sins of My Father
• 16 Shells from a Thirty-Ought Six
• Trampled Rose
• Cold Cold Ground
• November
• Black Market Baby
• Hoist That Rag
• Lucky Day
• Innocent When You Dream
• Lost in the Harbour
• Lie to Me
• Misery is the River of the World
• Big in Japan
• Dirt in the Ground
• Make it Rain
• Jesus Gonna Be Here
• Eyeball Kid
• House Where Nobody Lives
• Time

So there we were: Hammerpants and Jenni and I. We were in Ohio for a Tom Waits show. Vrax showed up to hang out for a while, and that was awesome, and then Pete showed up Sat. afternoon to hang out as well. Extra awesome.

We ended up at O’Riley’s in the afternoon, for some preshow drinks and food. Fell in love with the place. Great staff, good music, good food: the key though is that it feels like a bar where they want you to hang out. Not because they want you to drink more but because they enjoy your company.

So around 7 we head off to the theatre and say good-bye to the local flavor. Now I had a ticket for B who was flying in and so on. I didn’t know what was going on, on his end, at that point. He missed his flight due to a series of argh and because his phone was also fucking up couldn’t get in touch with me.

And that’s the punch line but here’s the story:

We head to the theatre and I’m calling B and starting to worry. Around 7:55 Hammerpants and Jenni go in. I hear that Waits won’t start until at least 8:30, from house staff, so I hang out and keep waiting to hear from B. I call and I pace and I come up with time tables for myself. When will I go in, when will I give up, etc.

See there were no paper tickets pre-show. You go up, give them ID and the card you bought tickets with and they print them and usher you in right then. Once they even print the tickets there is no going out and coming back in. There is no Will Call window. there is no way to go get someone once you enter. So you have to wait outside and work out the math.

It was getting close to 8:20 before B got through. I was sad as hell to hear he couldn’t make it after all, and happy as hell to be able to get in and see the show. So I ran in. I had two seats on the floor. Row N. They start at A, huh? So Not Far Back. Really awesome seats.

Hammerpants had seats on the balcony. Not bad seats but not as good. When B bailed, Jenni came down to take that seat. Then we realized after a few songs that the seat right in front of my was open and txt’d Hammerpants to come take it. Which he did. Yes, sir. So we all got to sit in the awesome seats.

I don’t have a full set list on me. But he played, that I can recall this second: Lucinda, Down in the Hole, Chocolate Jesus, Falling Down, Make it Rain, Lie to Me, 16 Shells from a 30.06, Innocent When You Dream, Hoist That Rag, November, Misery is the River of the World, Black Market Baby, Eyeball Kid, The House Where Nobody Lives, Big in Japan, and he ended with Time. But there were more. No opener and he played for a bit more than 3 hours.

I don’t know the words to describe the show. It was religion, it really was. A few hundred people singing along with Innocent When you Dream – gently and at Waits’ direction – is hard to beat. He puts on the type of show that everyone wishes they could put on. And no one else really does.

Yeah, I don’t really have the right words to describe that show.

Religion, I tell you. Down home, old school, “the universe makes a little more sense when you walk out that door” style religion.

After the show the lights came up. And directly to the right, leaning against the wall with a grin was Dustin Grovemiller. He’s the Goddamn Batman. Anyway, we got to hang (far less than I would have liked but that’s life) for a bit at O’Riley’s, since he knew and loved the place, too.

Then we came back to the hotel, looked at the fact it was almost 3 and sighed. Because we get back on the road at 10am. And it’s a long drive back to NY.

Before we really got on the road we stopped at this deli in east Harlem. It had a sign. It had the above sign. And that set the tone for the trip, really. No pet smoking hang around. None. Not even the tiniest bit.

——————

We (Hammerpants, myself and Jenni) realize, thanks to Jenni who has done this trip before, that the directions we have are bad. Well not bad per say, they simply won’t be efficient. Oh no. So we should go a different way. Well, that makes perfect sense to all three of us. We only have to turn around and backtrack like thirty minutes in order to save two whole hours overall. And that’s sound math.

Of course it didn’t take the entire “Let’s get lost in Jersey” problem into account, and how could it? When we decided this we were not, in fact, lost in Jersey. So this woman tells Hammerpants how to get to the highway we want, in the direction we want. “Turn left at the church and it’s right there.”

Woo!

Except then he gets back in the car, looks out onto the vistas of the nowhere corner of Jersey we’re in and see, for fuck’s sake, at least six churches. Did we go back in and ask for clarification? No, sir. We decided she meant the big one. It was bigger, after all. So it must be the… no, it wasn’t. We found the right church, after a few, it was just a church. Fifth one or so from where we started. But when we made a left at the corner of that church we did indeed end up where promised.

——————

Then we spent the next six decades in PA. Because that’s just what you do when you’re going to Ohio. You move to PA, raise a few kids, start a farming community, buy some cows, raise some kids, oh God I hated that episode of Next Generation when they all lived forty lives all at once, and then Jordi finds a plant that reminds him of his mother so he marries Data and they have a wedding at Skywalker ranch, wearing tutus and then … well you’ve seen it. That’s what it’s like. Exactly what it’s like.

——————

We stopped for a leg stretch in the wilds of West Virginia. The gas station bathroom was a door in the side of the building. It had a doorknob. Set above that was a key lock for locking the place up at night. Set above that was a ½ inch thick deadbolt. That only locked from the outside. What with a side of THE FUCK was going on there?

——————

We had dinner in Wheeling, WV. Big place, lots of unused space. Large guys, who look like bikers, playing pool in one half of the place. We’re at a table. Wham! starts playing. Loudly. Wake Me Up (Before You Go-Go), specifically. No one blinked.

——————

And then we hit the hotel at around 1am. And Vrax came out to meet us and hang out. Well folks that resulted in my being up till 3am. Then we got up at 9ish. And now I post this. And go cause trouble.

Tonight: Tom Waits.
Tomorrow: The drive home.
Monday: Back to the day job.

Oh this should be epic.

A – Wrist is better. Not up to speed, but better. Will be taking brace with me for…

B – Tonight … we dine … in OHIO!

C – ‘Cause Tom Waits concert is tomorrow night.

D – Which means people, parties, the rock star life and…

E – Well, if ‘Rock Star Life’ is sitting in a car for ten hours, getting to a hotel and drinking.

F – Which, let’s be fair, it is.

G – Back Sunday, mind the store, clean up on aisle 10.

H – Bern, you need to get in touch with me.

I – Happy Birthday Robyn, my Sith Lord of Movies.

J – …and I’m gone.

Why is this not safe for work? Well, to start there’s the implied male rape. And then the doll. And… it is glorious.

HOUSTON — NASA’s deadline for accepting applications for the 2009 Astronaut Candidate Class is July 1. Those selected could fly to space for long-duration stays on the International Space Station and missions to the moon.

To be considered, a bachelor’s degree in engineering, science or math and three years of relevant professional experience are required. Typically, successful applicants have significant qualifications in engineering or science, or extensive experience flying high-performance jet aircraft.

Teaching experience, including work at the kindergarten through 12th grade level, is considered qualifying. Educators with the appropriate educational background are encouraged to apply.

After a six-month period of evaluation and interviews, NASA will announce final selections in early 2009. Astronaut candidates will report to NASA’s Johnson Space Center in Houston during the summer of 2009 to begin the basic training program to prepare them for future spaceflight assignments.
To apply to be an astronaut, click here.

Additional information about the Astronaut Candidate Program is available by calling the Astronaut Selection Office at 281-483-5907, or by visiting: http://www.nasa.gov/astronauts/recruit.html

———-
Not a joke. Who wants to go to the moon? DO IT!

Going to drop off laundry. No headphones. Standing outside the laundromat waiting for a woman with a stroller to move along. Guy in a chair, sitting next to the door, talking into his phone:

“No, I’m telling you … look I mean it. No, put the video in. Just look at it. No, really. All right, but now go to 2:09. Two minutes and nine seconds, what do you think I mean? The street? No, 2:09! Jesus, see? There’s this girl, no I’m on the street, but I saw it before so I’m telling you it’s there. There’s this girl. She didn’t sign, I think she might be underage. No, so we have to pull the whole thing, what are you stupid?! No, consensual! Con. Sen. Su. Fine, you get it, so what’s the fucking problem? No, we have to pull it. … What? What the fuck? I’m not fucking ILM that’s why I can’t just fucking put someone else in there! You want, what, Jar-Jar in your porn? Maybe Sponge Bob? You’re a fuck-up, that’s why. Just, fuck you, just fucking pull it. Christ, she’s underage. And fire whoever got the OK on this. Shit.”

And then I dropped off laundry and ran home before I forgot a word of this, ’cause … yeah. And luckily he didn’t notice me looking like I was txt’ing someone as I was taking notes on what he said just in case.

So today I was discussing OS’ with a friend and came to WindowsME. My take was as follows:

I had to support it. My mom ended up with WindowsME for a year or so. It was like… having sex, with a camel, while wearing a tutu that didn’t fit and then wrapping yourself in rubber until you couldn’t breathe. WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THE CAMEL? That’s what I wanna know.

———————————-

Still not writing. Wrist is too off its game to give in. Which sucks, because I am working on a novel so geektastic, so fantastic and so “other things that are -tastic” I can hardly stand to not share it with everyone I talk to.

———————————-

And finally, saw this s an icon, need to make note of it here.

Hitler knows a good groove when he hears one.

Over at Gizmodo there was a contest to create images of what Bill Gates would be up to when he retires. There are a lot of funny entires but this one made me cackle: