caliber66

Glad to hear you're still so mobile.

Sorry - got the cd, put it in the car, listened to it once through, and it's still down in the car. I liked it quite a bit, and when the wife first heard the cd playing (track 4, I believe), she thought it was Wilco, so there's that. I'll listen to it some more this week and give you some more feedback. Thanks for the disc!

Why does the fact that he was listening to other music when he wrote the album mean that he couldn't have drawn on the influence of Gram Parsons when making the album?

Did I attack you? What made you think that I regard Ryan Adams as a god? As for Orkie's post going against the "clickish" norm, that doesn't have anything to do with people asking him to back up his claim, regardless of whether or not it goes against prevailing opinion. He made a claim about Ryan Adams, so he needs to provide support for his claim. If the attitude about Ryan Adams is as widespread as he says it is, then it should be a very simple matter for Orkie to track down a couple articles supporting his position, and post them for all to see. At the same time, it is an impossible claim

Please show your work.

First of all, I don't "always" ask people to show their work. I don't know how you got that impression. However, if someone makes a claim, one should back it up. He's the one claiming Ryan Adams is regarded as a copycat; the onus is on him to prove his point. How would I go about proving that he's not regarded as a copycat? Why would an article say "Ryan Adams did NOT copy the style of Gram Parsons on this record"? You also seem to have a real need to view everyone here as an adversary, and I don't know what that's all about. I listen to Ryan Adams occasionally. Some of his stuff I like, som

Or it means you're making it up? Please show your work.

Happy birthday, Sue.

WOO!

Yay!

You definitely want to blow your nose thoroughly right before you do the neti pot, and lightly immediately afterwards. You want to have a clear track for the liquid to percolate through your sinus cavity. I haven't noticed the runoff being "chunky" when I've done it, but most of my concentration is always focused on the sensation of water (etc.) flowing through the inside of my face. I definitely feel clearer after - whether this is psychosomatic or not, I couldn't tell you.

He probably made them commit suicide later.

I had a dream last night that I met M. Christine. And also that I fell off a cliff but survived by falling into a snowbank. And then I met two other people who had the same experience the same week. It had a very The Stand kind of feel, like we were being assembled for a reason. Also, I peed in a stadium-style trough urinal (this was a Key West type of place, despite the nearby mountains, and they were preparing for a street festival), and there was some dude strapping a dildo on the head of a mannequin in a sex shop window. That's about all I remember.

First, it doesn't mean anything to me what Jeff Tweedy thinks about the Basement Tapes, although his description of the process sounds about right. But that it was informal doesn't mean they didn't make some great music. Sure, there's plenty of filler, because it was just a bunch of guys hanging around playing music. I don't listen to it to hear some perfectly mixed and mastered studio album. I listen and think, "My God, how fucking cool would it have been to be there?" What about bands that don't sound anything like Wilco?

If you haven't told this story (and even if you have, really), please do so now.

I also met Steve Balboni in 1985 in a Kansas City-area shopping mall.

I believe they were solid-color silk.

#1 It was a redeye and he was in First Class, so he had some room to spread out and get some zz's. #2 There were not Yodas n shit on em.

Jesse Jackson was on our plane from San Fran to Chicago on our trip back east earlier this summer. He was wearing jammies. I helped Brian Mitchell select some wines sometime in 2003. I asked him how the Eagles were going to do that year, and he said "I don't know, I don't play for the Eagles anymore." Patrick Ramsey (with his extremely hot wife) also came into the wine store, as did Willard Scott (whose car I loaded - he bought a bunch of Yuengling & Coors, IIRC).

Singing old mumbly guy who's not Johnny Cash?

Happy birthday, kids.

Like "OH MY GOD WHY DID I PUT SALT WATER IN MY SINUSES...oh, no, that's kind of nice, actually." It's tingly.

Racist.

They mentioned on SportsCenter this morning that the video was a result of protracted negotiations.