Because we’re getting ready to leave, here are some bullets: HOLYFUCKINGSHITTHEINDIANSBEATTHEYANKEESANDGETTOPLAYTHE REDSOXFORTHEAMERICANLEAGUECHAMPIONSHIPANDTHECHANCE TOGOTOTHEWORLDSERIES. I’m not forgetting the football. I just not trying to draw attention to what Ohio State has been doing so far this season. Here’s a hint: I just watched the 2002 season highlight DVD, and noticed … many similarities. Hmmm… The Wife… Read More whoooo!
I’m going to have to start writing more than once a week. The football. It was good. It was also beastly hot, nasty enough that everyone in our group had bailed by the end of the third quarter. But what we did get to see was reassuring. Boeckman seems to have a good thing going… Read More late.
It doesn’t get much better than that. Friday: After a semi-productive day off, I drove into town to see Helvetica, a documentary film about the typeface of the same name. Yes. A movie about a font. Expect that it’s actually a movie about a small piece of modern design, the widespread acceptance of Helvetica and… Read More best weekend ever.
Are they gone? OK. That sounds wrong. I’m grateful that my contribution to the debate over Rhino’s decision to cut off the downloads at their Tapers’ Section got the attention it did. For the second straight week, I’ve found myself a little bewildered over an explosion over a post — and this time, since one… Read More calmed down.
Two concerts, a great sorta long weekend and one royal pain in the ass. Let’s begin. Railroad Earth at the Rex Theater was spectacular. They’re an honest bluegrass band at heart — and a couple of the songs on Thursday really highlighted their traditional abilities — but they’re not content to keep it simple and… Read More railratroadearthdog. and other stuff.
These updates are just too easy. We’re getting ready for a weekend in Columbus, the first time we’ve been home since, I think, February. It’s shaping up to be a nice, low-stress time — pizza with the folks on Friday night, an iPod/iTunes lesson for my father, mother and The Wife, and then a take-out… Read More buncha.
Uncle Crappy 