Almost Famous:

Smokler on December 11, 2001

I was supposed to take the day off but all I ended doing was watching Almost Famous on HBO. Even though I had rented two other movies not 15 minutes before.

I’m crying now. Crying at how beautiful, how lovely this film is, how much it reminds me of who I used to be, that I was once fifteen and thought rock ‘n roll will save us from everything, even ourselves. I feel like my innocence is a little pathetic now, now that I’m 28 with a career starting, manhood, a relationship, no luxury of regret.

My childhood home will be sold next year. I’ll be a permanent resident of San Francisco, 2000 miles from that beautiful little town in Michigan that is so much a part of who I am, that I can’t have back, except when I lie awake at night and can’t sleep.

I think off all of this as this wonderful movie settles over me. I’m weeping. Weeping becuase I can’t ever have who I was back, that I can’t do it over again and am not ready to let it go.

Today’s letter:

Smokler on December 9, 2001

Today’s letter: I think I’m going to write to Matt Nathanson whom Suzan and I saw in concert last night. Matt’s one of those musicians who doesn’t do anything out of the ordinary (singer/songwriter, white guy with a guitar, that thing) but does it about 10 times better than most others in his genre. We batted around "why?" for a while and came up with 1) his voice is not that of an ordinary folk troubadour, soulful but politely so, but rather a full healthy rasp like Bruce Springsteen or hell, Neil Diamond. Anything he puts over gets elevated by the passion and the sincerity his voice gives it. 2) Matt knows he’s a white guy with a guitar who used to have a mullet and acne and has a great time playing with it.

I first heard one half of one song he did at a private party seven years ago in L.A.  I liked him when we chatted afterward and bought his CD to be nice. I didn’t know his music at all. It wore out after I listened to about 5,000 times and loaned it to everyone I knew.

I heard a few years ago that he had moved to San Francisco to be closer to his girlfriend-now-wife Bridget. I wrote him a letter when I got here and told him of our abstract history together. He wrote back and invited me to his next show. I’ve seen him three times since I got her and will whenever I can.

Check him out. You won’t be disapointed.

A visit by Derek Powazek:

Smokler on December 8, 2001

Derek Powazek came by the Grotto, as per my invitation, to meet with everyone and talk about his projects like the Fray and SF Stories. Derek had expressed to me some weeks earlier that he was looking to segue into non-web writing. That’s when I made the offer.  Several Grottites had excellent ideas about how he could turn Fray stories into a printed anthology. Everyone left super energized.

I didn’t realize it until afterward but Derek’s visit was kind of a summit meeting of my two worlds, those web friends I’ve made through South by Southwest and those writing colleagues with whom I share my workspace. Writers online and offline see intuitively like kindred spirits and yet they’re only dimly aware of each other from opposite sides of the word chasm. Maybe it’s because we’re talking about english majors and nerds.

I’d love to have them cross that divide and spend some time together. I think they have more in common than we think.

People Cards:

Smokler on December 6, 2001

A guy here in San Francisco has started printing trading cards of ordinary people called People Cards, with stats and everything. What a neat idea.

Yes, Androids do…

Smokler on December 5, 2001

We’re sorry. Kevin has gone to bed. Please come bag tomorrow for more bloggy goodness. Until then, dream of electric sheep.