Friday, January 31, 2014


Reunion, with grunge-era headwear!


The second picture ever posted here, for instance. From
Running out of space in my storage on Blogger, I deleted years of photos from Nick Eddy Relents: The Early Years, so as to seamlessly continue being Your Only Source of Information Ever Again.  I thought I would check to see where I stood recently and damn if they didn't give all bloggers 15GB of additional space or some shit, so now all those pictures and are gone and the really thorough reader will just have to go all the way back to the beginning just imagining how the posts were illustrated.  Piece of cake, since my prose creates vibrant pictures in the mind, obviously.  Still, should I take a month off work and try to replace every picture?  Guessing I could be up to 88% accurate in matching what was formerly there.

Still, 88% is not good enough.  Perfection or nothing!

"relevant" is perhaps a bit strong,

but yay!:

What about these Beegees?

The whole Today show "gang" was bopping yesterday to the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack or something, maybe Barry Gibb was going to be on.  Not sure.  It was okay, though, because Tamron Hall said she had had "How Deep Is Your Love?" as her morning alarm for fifteen years. Whatever she does is fine.  However, the current Beegees appreciation (going on, I would, guess, because of a bubbling up in interest in the Fallon/Timberlake Barry Gibb Talk Show, maybe?) is approaching Fleetwood Mac-level uselessness.  I mean, what about these Beegees?

Hangover tie

Jack Spade.  It made me chuckle.

2 Chainz and them

Cake remnants


That April 28 '85 bird


After berating my parents for being so old and wacky, I found this wherein they are young(ish) and wacky. Some costume party at Harold Moore's (where I first read a Time-Life book on Duchamp years later, while steaks were grilling outside), ca. 1962, I would guess.  Fran's Edie Sedgwick-style white lipstick is GO!  May have posted before, but definitely worth reposting.

"Local Thor"

I see this dude all the time at my actual job who cut off his dumb blonde hair and now just looks like an ex-jock again, but it occurred to me that he is like a local Thor, which in turn sounds like a tossed-off GBV song:

Set 'em up
set 'em up
set 'em up
for Local Thor
Stick and stones
and codfish bones
steers and queers
and "go volunteers!"
He's Agamemnon, mom!


Cat cafes

Are there limits to what I can do?

This has nothing to do with the mixes mentioned - just
a reminder to listen to Beauty Stab now if you had been meaning
to, because Technique Month starts tomorrow.
Now making weekly mixes for people...I cannot be stopped!

Little Bill

Not having had children until now, I completely missed out on Little Bill, who rules.

The bun has not missed out, however.

Thursday, January 30, 2014


"Just heard someone say we're supposed to get 22 inches of snow next week..."

[Good!  It will match MY RIMS!]

Chuckled wryly while rubbing my chin raw a la Steve in the bonus footage from that one New York Dolls DVD while I read this:

On a flight to Chicago I bump into a Reprise executive who doesn't surprise me in the least by revealing: "You know the label deliberately crippled Southpaw Grammar, don't you? Because you wouldn't re-sign?"*

Now there's a job I could handle: crippling Southpaw Grammar.  Here's how I would do it:

1. release it
2. wait


(sorry, Brian!)

* also insane in the autobiography as well: all quotations are italicized.  What?  And no, this IS a lot different from my excessive witty italicization I abuse constantly.

Seriously, now: separated at birth?

Mom's gone tour 6

Suck it, Gertrude Stein!

Mom's gone tour 5

Mom's gone tour 4

"I need to get the ideas on the page..." [typewriter courtesy D. Kirschner]

Mom's gone tour 3

Kitchen heart to heart: "After this haircut, I needed to relearn forgiveness..."

Mom's gone tour 2

There were stuffed animals...

Mom's gone tour 1

Mom is in California, returning tonight.  To avoid boredom, we made various stops.
E: "See, then we'd drop a sort of depth charge down the mine shaft..."
R: "..."

Our far-flung correspondents


Coming to soon to New York magazine approval matrix

* The coming of Angry Roker

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Fran and Don married 59 years today

Gonna take the bun to see them after work - expect gruesome photos tomorrow!

Too late for a New Year's resolution?


In the spirit of Paul McCartney's "Temporary Secretary,"

I give you The Salingerian Librarian!

"I hope they never do a hardcover Hapworth..." etc

Dammit, how did I miss this ebay auction?



The only hat a bun will wear

Every other hat he pulls right off - but this one, which was his grandfather's, he leaves on.  Maybe to cover his shite haircut, now that I think.

The wit and wisdom of Wayne Avenue Kroger

Pick a card, any card

Alien Sandwich

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Too tired

to write the full screed on how mawkish I imagine the tribute posts  to Pete Seeger on social media to be...but I will say I looked twice because he looks like my dad when young here.  And he's talking to George Vidal/Gore Plimpton, or whatever such a being would be called when caught in the transporter contraption from The Fly.

On this day in 1960,

the Vikings became an NFL franchise.  It is known as the Day of the Start of Eternal Disappointment.

Mystery package

This arrived from the Deep South and was pretty ratchet:

Richard Scarry!  


Haircut time again

"Yeah, just relaxed and
 enjoying by very Beatles '65 lid over here...doobee doobee doo..."


"Oh, shit!"

"I look like a mental patient from a Walker Evans

"Grrr...yes, I'll make some coffee...but I

* quote from sitter's husband: "you ruined our baby's head!"


I am of course obligated to read the Morrissey autobiography, although the first few pages were just a slog that I was tempted to just skip around.  But I am persevering (I think the ludicrously long paragraphs are the problem).  Anyway, old Steve mentions some show he loved in his youth called "Torchy the Battery Boy," which sounds in turn like a Suede b-side from 1994.  Wheels within wheels!  Anyway, the internet gods coughed that shit right up, should you dare:

Wintry view through a cat-ruined blind dot org

"Return to form," says a correspondent

New cell phone

No, not for me; in fact, they don't even make a case for my passe three-year-old Droid.  When this phone shit reaches sentience, there will be multiple new phones every second and they will be made of your skin!  I'm told.  Anyway:

Two views of the sad winter 1983 view from the Sprint store, where we waited
and waited.
Kyle's new giant HTC-whatever phone.  Comes with a wheelbarrow.

A trip to Dick's

I found myself in Dick's Sporting Goods and finally truly felt like an American for the first time in my life.

Vulgar shades are in!

Drive for show, putt for dough

Probably free

"What was the target doing in the master bedroom?," asked the detective.

I'm a fucking tool, right, but I had no idea that there were zillions of snacks
to set out to get the game to crawl right up and get shot.  Ingenuity!  Who has time
to wait?

Sending these to Levi Johnston on his birthday