When I'm gone

A few requests:

• No funeral, just a wake after my cremation.
• No one who doesn't know me well is allowed to speak. I'm not interested in having a stranger (mis)interpret my life or death.
• Play Ben Sollee's "Panning for Gold".

And have fun, please. Play cards. Hearts, horse, and oh heck would be fine. Have the Dailys sing a few hymns (cousins, we need to make sure that occasional tradition doesn't lapse). A small jazz, bluegrass, or blues band with dinner would be delightful, but optional.

I'm not anticipating my wake any time in the next couple of decades, but as family traumas have recently demonstrated, life can change abruptly.

Life itself is an ephemeral epiphany.

Squirrel photo crasher

You've probably already seen this, but if you haven't, it should lighten your day a bit.

At least my cousin Lori didn't jump in front of the subjects of photos when she was a frequent crasher.

Three-minute fiction

NPR is running the second round of their three-minute fiction contest. I missed the first round, but chanced into hearing the announcement of round two today. 200 words later, and I'm in; we'll see if it gets mentioned at any point. I'm definitely not holding my breath.

Of Light and Living Rooms

As I sit at Borders, sipping my peach kula (highly recommended) and reading a book on lighting for photography, it is evident that I need to bite the bullet and convert my living room into a studio. (Kathryn recommended this years ago, but per usual it takes me a while to internalize good advice.)

I don't watch TV, I watch a Netflix DVD once in a blue moon. Only my cat would lament the repurposing of my living room, and she doesn't get much of a vote.

The house is too small for entertaining anyway, and I haven't had anyone over in years. Let the remodeling begin!

(Anyone know how I can get rid of an oversized 1990s era TV?)

-- Post From My iPhone

Lucas Oil Stadium

My last NFL experience for the indefinite future. Impressive stadium, no doubt. It desperately needs more culinary variety, and a few more escalators would certainly be nice.

Thanks to Terry for the tickets, and to Joey for joining me (and for springing for some mighty fine chicken fingers & fries).

Thanks, Eagles

Thanks a ton, Philadelphia. Now that Vick is back in the league, I have to stick to my word and boycott the NFL.

Hopefully they'll cut him so I can have my hopes dashed again in the postseason when the Colts falter.

Indiana Blues

The Indiana Star has an overview of some of local Indiana blues musicians. I'm a fan of Rev. Peyton, but now I have a few more names on my list of musicians to check out.

Indiana State Fair

As much of a disappointment the chocolate-covered bacon is, the Beal Street Blues Band is quite a treat. They also call themselves the Yank Rachell Tribute Band.

Of course, the peach slider slush was wonderful as usual.