by Greg Brown but not Ken Vandermark
I’m working. I’m just not working for you.
Is this work? I did do laundry today. I walked the dog. I’ve been on the computer for about three hours now. I meant to go sit in a cafe with a notebook and a stack of clippings, then check out the Giants game.
I did make progress on someone else’s problem — two phone calls, about 60 minutes cumulative elapsed. I won’t get paid but money will probably change hands. I did a good deed, I think. I will have to write it up, and connect their dots.
I had a great conversation with an old associate. He told me in detail his good news. I guess that is work: interacting with artists in some way.
I wrote fragments of three or four different blog entries, in my head (but not in that notebook). I sent three or four emails. I had an idea or two.
What do you mean by work? Word count, work count. Don’t confuse me.
Who wrote: “In another mental universe whose associations orbit outward infinitely…”?
(another math reference….)
Plastic Alto with Mark Weiss 
I wonder if the Superchunk appearance on Jimmy Fallon is archived on youtube?
I also read the NY Times review of Elizabeth Murray, the painter. Saw one of her pieces at SF MOMA. What is the thread that connects all these topics? “Hey, soul sister” was meant to connect Stella Brooks to Train, but it passes through this space as well. Also, I am wearing a Corey Harris t-shirt in celebration of his winning the MacArthur Grant (years ago, but this year’s models were just announced).
I work just by trying to understand your ramblings.
I am still working out the format for this. Not really writing for an audience. It’s more like the things I jot down in short hand in my notebooks. Superchunk’s first claim to fame was a single called “Slack” or maybe “Slack Motherfucker” with the hook, “I’m working, just not working for you.” I just bought their new cd “Majesty Shredding” which features at least two decent songs, “Digging for Something” and “Learning to Surf” — all their songs sound the same. Also, they are playing a big festival here in Bay Area next weekend but I doubt that I will have the energy to deal with that. They headlined by fifth anniversary show as Earthwise Productions, in 1999. A series of chance occurences involving Superchunk played a roll in my even bothering to get involved with the music scene. OK?
I was going to print out the first four blogs and edit them before I do another blog. Although I do like the gimmick of addending them in these comments/footnotes.
The “another mental universe” quote is from an obscure Beat Poet named Alden Van Buskirk who studied at Dartmouth College in 1961 with Jack Hirschman, a less obscure Beat Poet, and a former Poet Laureate of San Francisco. Van Buskirk’s lone contribution to the canon is something called “LAMI”.
I am abstaining from too much technology adaptation so it is with some misgivings that I link here to the Pitchfork list of top users of a trendy new communication tool; I feel stupid and or left out that I knew Jon Wurster for many years before I realized he was so funny. Also, this reminds me of meeting Ted Leo at St. Olaf’s College fall festival a year ago, while at my cousin Isaac “Souldier” Blomfield’s Bar Mitzvah — the bowling picture above was taken at his gig. Ted Leo played before Dessa From Doomtree — I bought the t-shirt — and I see is appearing tonight here in SF — but I will be at art opening in San Jose:
http://pitchfork.com/features/articles/7885-the-top-40-artist-twitters/3/
My prediction: Steelers 20, Packers 17. I am channeling: Andy Warhol, Rocky Bleier, our neighbor Model T Ford, from the University of Pittsburgh. I once wrote a fan letter to Jack Lambert praising his “sado-masochistic style” — never answered. Although, the Franco Harris catch still hurts a little.
http://www.mergerecords.com/store/store_detail.php?catalog_id=755
I just ordered a t-shirt and a poster from Superchunk website. In this context “Plastic Alto” could mean that I am letting my credit card balance pile up high. The poster artist is a Nate Duval, whose work reminds me of the self-taught outsider artists Martin Ramirez (I think he’s called) or the guy from Texas who draws “haints” and was in prison and whose life was chronicled by the lady who works at Yard Dog gallery in Austin. It features hand-drawn type.