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Neutral Milk, June 2 at Cubberley?????
Merge Records, celebrating 25 years of not working for you, but working, tips the news that Jeff Mangum and Neutral Milk Hotel are going on the road next spring and summer, for a limited run.
There is what looks like a blank date between Santa Cruz (Cocoanut Grove Ballroom?) and Eugene, which probably means Frisco and Another Planet or Live Nation or Great American/HSB, but why not fantasize that we will re-open The Cub for this show, or the new Mitchell Center in PA?
Astra Taylor, wife of Jeff, is my pal thanks to me stalking various screenings of “Examined Life”; her sister, Jeff’s in-law, Sunaura Taylor I can commission for a cool poster.
Elephant 6 bands that played The Cub: Creeper Lagoon, Beulah, Olivia Tremor Control, The Music Tapes.

If there is anybody who has earned the right to say “Got Milk?” in this context it is I, on the basis of being Jeff Goodby’s go-fer before leaving corporate America for rock and indie roll; not that I wrote “Got Milk?” but I did, while riding a plane with Jeff from SF to LA for his not my meeting with Carl Karcher, suggest that tag lines were getting shorter and there would, for client to be named later, a tag “YO?!” which is eerily prescient of “GOtya?
Merge Acts at the Cub: Superchunk, Imperial Teen.
It’s generally not a good idea for a promoter to promise to bring this or that act; never announce a show until there is signed contract in hand. But internet and blogs disrupt all rules, right?
Also, I posted a board tape of OTC on some site if people want to find it. Also, I have what I think are cool mini-posters of that show, if people want to arrange to have one, we can work it out.
AND1:
To
Merge Records
CC
Jim Romeo Jon Wurster Lane Wurster
(former GBS go-fer mark weiss in palo alto ; jeff and or linda harliss would shirley remember
650.305.0701)
in fact you should mine “plastic Alto” for ideas!!
in this link I claim to be the author of the famous ofent-imitated but never eaualleyd tagline
I SENET THIS TO CREATOR OF “GOT MILK” CMAPAING MY FORMER BOSS JEFF GOODBY
I WANT TO PUT IN SERIOUS OFFER FOR NEUTRAL MILK ON 6/2/15 FOR MY 25TH ANNIVER SERIES PALO ALTO
Posted in chapel hill, music, Plato's Republic
Tagged astra taylor, jeff mangum, neutral milk hotel, olivia tremor control, sunaura taylor
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Steve Almond and Cheryl Strayed as “Sugar” on Rumpus
I’ve been a bit of a hater of Cheryl Strayed but am softening now that I know that Steve Almond has a connection to her. He started the “Sugar” advice column on Rumpus* and then passed that “Torch” to Cheryl. (Similarly, I was editor of the Gunn Oracle and passed that job on to Steve).
Here is Steve on Marc Maron.
(I also dug the Art Alexakis of Everclear cameo as tattoo artist, and the dudes singing “Ripple” and the bit from Linda Perry Four Non Blondes “What’s Up?” but I wondered who was still singing that the year the Jerry died. 1995, vs. 1993. I thought that was Hutz the musician dancing then rolling her wife a knife, probably not).
I want to read “Heroin/e”.
I lied above. The dude said it was heroin but it was actually baking powder. Also, I did not meet a dozen young ladies between 20 and 40 on a recent camping trip, they were people I merely fantasized about between January, 1983 and fall, 2002.
* not that I had heard of it until ten minutes ago, but “sugar” on rumpus sounds like something I have no idea how I knew to search for it, but according to David Niven Errol Flynn would put a bit of cocaine on the tip of his CENSORED as an aphrodisiac. link
also: Hornby if that’s your real name wrote the script, saving me hours of time tearing out and burning pages of the actual Strayed (I say STRAY YED).
Wild reveals
“Wild” reveals what some of us have long suspected: that plot is the enemy of truth, and that images and emotions can carry meaning more effectively than neatly packaged scenes or carefully scripted character arcs.
I stole that fro the New York Times and admit it.
Not only that, I use heroin. As tooth paste.
I am reuig. I cannot even spell “ruined”. I have sex indiscriminately with almost any young woman between ages of 20 and 40 that asks. (Although it is also true that I am true to my girl, my TAD, Terry, for the last five years — this is a memoir, it took place mostly in the past, a whiles ago. I don’t know. let me get back to you. I have never strayed.)
I thought my hero David Shields would hate Cheryl Strayed a priori, but no he loves her. In the literal sense only. I mean he loves his word. He lies. Not with her about her. Or not. Speaking of truth.
Joni Mitchell or a recording of her voice, when she was young and wild, I can hear it right as a write. Unless I have finally gone along the bend.
And I do recall my trip the length of the AT with future government super-attorneys Ben Clements and Jack Martin, from the New Hampshire New York border back to Hanover. It took a week and four hours. meaning, Now that I am all truth-like it took them a week and it took me four hours because I had a 1984 Chevy Blazer.
We may go to the 4 p.m. screening. We may not. Check back in another 500,000 words for my edit to add.
Now I nod.
z
z
z
z
kids don’t do this at home
both sides now, the man says:
robert hilburn says its from “saul bellow the rain king”
I was reading Saul Bellow’s “Henderson the Rain King” on a plane and early in the book Henderson the Rain King is also up in a plane. He’s on his way to Africa and he looks down and sees these clouds. I put down the book, looked out the window and saw clouds too, and I immediately started writing the song. I had no idea that the song would become as popular as it did.
Mark “Stew” Stewart my former client and I ma not Mother Dear, making this up he asks “what does Robert Hilburn know about rock and roll?? fair enough. go see my film
as referenced by mitt fibula matt cibula fucking spell check in pop matters 2003:
he quotes this couplet, from Post Mintstrel Syndrome
“It’s nice to know that Goldie Hawn has a tortured soul / But what does Robert Hilburn know about rock and roll?
I would prefer Goldie even at forty-something to Reese, or Molly Bell…
Ed Marinero Talking Blues I mean Bruise

recent photo of Dartmouth football legend J. Murray Bowden, with basketball Houston current player Beverley — they lost to Warriors 2 nights ago, and reminds me repressed memory of 3 hours ago, that Pete Broberg once held Dr. J to 11 points only
The supposition is that if I call Murry Bowden the developer, Hanover Industries, in Houston Texas and ask the receptionist “I’m a Dartmouth guy and I want to ask Murry Bowden about ‘Ed Marinero'” would she put me through, would he take the call?
I asked Rick Kimball, who himself, doing business as TCV, manages $5Billion in assets, the other night at The Palace and he guessed yes, Murry Bowden would, forty years later, want to talk about playing against and shutting out Ed Marinero, who otherwise led the nation in rushing two years running.
In October of 1985, while serving as Literary Director of The Dartmouth, I interviewed Bowden on the eve of a 15-year anniversary event commemorating the Lambert Trophy-winning Indians, who shut out six of their nine opponents and were undefeated.
What I recall about the research was that Bowden said then that if someone asked Marinero if he remembers the Dartmouth game, Bowden is certain he would remember how hard he was hit, or individual plays, hit and bruises even.
It’s not bragging if you already done it!
Oddly, I never actually wrote the story, on account of a bout a chicken pox that sent me to Dick’s House for the rest of the week. A plebe named Rich Outzen, from nearby to me at least Aragon High of San Mateo, a footballer, writer and ROTC — later star of Brian Moore documentary “Army Green” — picked up my notes, or did his own research and filled the spot on my layouts. I also recall talking to a black lawyer named Bogan. Bowden and Bogan. This was a couple years before Russell Wilson’s dad played, but as a side-bet I reckon that some of the 1970 footballers were following Russell Wilson since well before Seahawks, maybe Wisconsin or what is it North Carolina State, will edit to add. My recent friend Mike Havern, a high school football QB claims plausibly that he followed Wilson as such. HB Wilson, tried out for the NFL Chargers, the rosters were smaller in those days, but was photographed catching a td in Candlestick in the pre-season. Harris B. Wilson, quite an honest fellow, liked his whiskey clear, et cetera.
There was also something I would want to verify that Murry Bowden would spend the first two or three weeks of the term “second floor of Beta” his fraternity i.e. not go to class and then do a 10-week term in 7 of 8 weeks just for yucks, and still graduated with honors and became a billionaire of what-not.
I was fantasizing about asking him: if you put you and Ed in a room, like a giant wrestling room with a mat, and gave you a length of rope, how long would it take before you, and we are talking two senior citizens these days, how long would it take before you catch Ed, flip him over, hog-tie him with your rope and teach him the first three lines, on key “Men of Dartmouth”? Three minutes, three hours, or infinite play / no can do?
I may try this some day, and then the bet would become: how many Dartmouth guys could call Murray Bowen, use this line and get him talking about Ed Marinero before he tires of the story, notwithstanding The Observer Effect or Murry betting against himself, and thereby somehow raking in another cool million, which he would give to charity, natch.
Not that I am advocating actual wagers, just gentlemen or sportsmen type bets.
And I also recall professor of psychology Christian Jernstedt saying not that it happened to him that a class by classical conditioning taught their prof to turn left or turn right based on their response to him. Can we condition Murry Bowden to answer the phone and tell these stories?
His time is worth $1,000 per hour but the memories are priceless.
edit to add: something about all this took me to Richmond, VA where I was on hold for 15 minutes to speak for 12 minutes with attorney John Samuel “Jack” Martin, my old chum, and I was confusing the former Dartmouth trustee Billy King with Los Gatos 1970 Indian signal-caller Jim Chasey from hereabouts in Los Gatos:
Nov 8, 1970 – Chasey, a. Los Gatos, Cali/., senior, lost no time in moving the Indians 77 yards fa 11 plays -for a touchdown in the first five minutes of the game …
I need to search-injun-internal “Jack Martin” to redact or prepare against other slander charges or invasions of privacy, although he chuckled at my claim that I have posted 1,100 times for close to 500,000 words to “a blog with no readers”.
Bob Marley, “Talkin’ blues” from “Natty Dread” good enough outro:
not sure I will get to ask Murry if he listened to Dylan from ’65 up there in Beta:
Part 2:
I actually woke up this morn interviewing Murry Bowden in my head. Terry meanwhile woke up serenading me with Billy Joel “Don’t Go Changing”. Then we wished four boxes of Christmas stuff from her attic and I suggested she feng shui it this year down to three. Although I do favor her manger which has a figurine representing Frida our now-gone Cocker Spaniel as the center of the universe, and rightly so. St. Frida. Maybe we will snort her ashes as Cheryl Strayed — Terry’s hero — claims to do, with her mother. So here I am “sweding” in a picture of Dr. J., Julius Erving, from his UMass days and I calculate that it is a 2 percent chance this is actually Pete Broberg of Dartmouth holding Erving to 11 points. And apparently I am the only person on the internet to tell this story.
part 3 or strike 3:
tesreau, former Yankee I think and Big Green or Indian coach/manager:

Posted in sports
Tagged dartmouth football, dr. j, ed marinero, j. murry bowden, lambert trophy, murry bowden, pete broberg, rick kimball, tcv
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365 from the 512
Jordan Williamson from Austin Texas has scored 365 points for the Stanford Cardinal football team, as the kicker. One of the secrets to his success, Plastic Alto has exclusively gleaned, is that his hair never falls in front of his face and eyes obscuring his view of the goal post because Gerardo the Barber, at, where else, The Cardinal Hotel, on Ramona, keeps the Williamsonian locks in check.
I happened into him today as Gerardo was doing me “a touch-up”.
It was his Texas t-shirt that got us going. I asked him about a dozen or so Texan bands, artists and venues (Slaid Cleaves, Curtis McMurtry, Asylum Street Spankers) before he let on that he was more about football than Austin City Limits.
“I’m actually on the Stanford team” he said. “I’m Jordan Williamson”.
I’m just enough of a follower to, without syncopation, hit my mark: “The kicker?!”
He humored me enough to pose for a 2-fer, shot by Gerardo.
I said I was most def going to the Bowl Game, Dec. 30 versus Maryland. I suggested that Stanford would either win by 40 or call on Jordan to win it from 40 yards out.
“I would love that shot!” he said.
His bio says that he is 5’11” and 194. My CDL says I am 6′ 180. David Shields say all memory involves a wee bit of fiction. See for y’all selfs.













