When Stevej found out I was going to see to see Ben Lee, he came out to the Google playground, found me and Goldman playing foursquare, and proceeded to push me down in the gravel. As I watched the blood pool on my freshly skinned knee, I could only think one thing... Why?

It turns out that back in the day, little Stevie J was watching 120 Minutes when Matt Pinfield came out and declared that Ben Lee was the future of Rock n' Roll.

That's pretty crazy. Maybe you've been under a rock, or in some tattoo parlor, and you don't know that the future of Rock n' Roll is Hip-Hop. Fair enough. But how in the left hand of Jobe do you then decide it's an unassuming, unpretentious, Australian kid?

I saw Mr. Lee last night. He isn't living up to the hype... and nothing could be better. Much like last time, the show was pretty minimal. Laid back, if you will. And nothing but effort. I must admit, I don't like all of Lee's songs. I like him best when he sticks with more abstract metaphors and keeps things very simple... He's better left to broader interpretation. But you'd be hard pressed to find a more whole heartedly genuine on stage performance.

After two shows, I can safely say I'll go see him anytime he's in San Francisco. Even if it means worrying about getting caught alone in the bathroom with that damned Jenson.

I've unsubscribed from so much political junk lately, maybe I never really got off the John Kerry email list. But now I'm sure of it. I've seen that unsubscribe page at least three times and every time "unsubscribe" was clicked. And every time I still get emails about how so and such a day is the "most important day in this campaign ever!"

Please make it stop.

During his first at bat, Jim Edmonds...

Grows a giant metal arm...

And it's on!

Cards win 312 to 4.

A-Rod is caught blatantly cheating. Umpires call him out. Yankee fans start throwing shit onto the field. Like baseballs at the Umpires. The Umpires stop the game and complain. At least 30 police officers in riot gear come out onto the field (in foul territory) and the game resumes. And that's why I'm all like: Fuck New York.

1. Early morning migraine
2. No sleep
3. Alarm
4. Sleep in
5. Raining
6. Shuttle to work is 30 mins late
7. Traffic
8. Finally at work

the first rain of the rainy seasons has arrived!

that I was a member of a Cake of the Month club. Each month a new and exotic cake was delivered direct to my doorstep.

It was fabulous.

At work:

• xScope: "Suite of screen tools for UI designers"
• gCount: new gMail notifier and it redirects mailto: links
• AudioScrobbler: watches iTunes, collecting stats about my music listening habits and making recommendations
• Konfabulator: handy utilities that sit on the desktop

(from here via here)

In addition to those Carasso prints, I also picked up two little paintings by my good friend and sometimes enemy Eugene Smith - A head and a hand:

My living room has pretty crappy light for photos. In the flesh, they're quite a bit lighter with far more subtleties. I love um.

This Wed: Buck 65 live at Slims.

This Friday: Mikhail Gorbachev live at Google.

There will be no disqualifications - A winner will be crowned.

Way back on Oct. 2nd, the infamous Love Parade made it's first appearance here in downtown San Francisco.

I was a little skeptical. These days, most everything associated with the word "rave" is not the same association I have. Mostly due to money... but also because it's time came and then went. Things are all around different now.

Love Parade kicked my cynical ass. Not only was it relaxed (no bag searches! no body searches! 5 dollar donation!) but most of the people there were there to be there - Not just watch. SF has a relatively large number of events that allow people to flex their exhibitionist muscle. They weird me out. The ratio of participation to consumtion is way off. There's a lot of standing around waiting for something "crazy" to happen. With the Love Parade, you don't have to show anything off to participate. All you have to do is fall in with the parade and dance.

And dance we did. Till our little toes were all blistered and the only way to replenish was a dinner of banana pancakes, cheese fries, and an orange freeze at Lori's Diner.

It was the best time I've had in a long time. I really hope it comes back around next year.

Photos: my phone cam / flickr members slideshow / mike's

I had the opportunity to check out some of Krescent Carasso's paintings at Open Studios this past weekend. Man they're good... In that not so much weepy but comfortably familiar sad way.

She had digital prints of her work for sale, on the cheap. It was hard not to buy one of each. I ended up choosing these two:

I can't wait to get the framed and up in a suitable for extended staring position.

Next month we're off to Boston for an extended weekend seeing Fall and some old friends. Some I haven't seen since I left the east coast 3+ years ago. Another I haven't seen since back in St. Louis. Maybe 8 years ago? ...It's hard to say. They both seem like lifetimes ago.

There's a certain sort of excitement to stepping back into them.
...this time with Lane along.

And some new sweaters.

The big news in these parts is that Ev is moseyin' on out of Google. In his post, he is very clear that there aren't any conspiracies to be found.

This my friends is a sure sign that there is one.

There are two big clues that unlock this mystery:

• In Ev's post he says "I do plan to not drive 101 so much."
• Many of the posts from Ev's co-workers make reference to his shoes. Example: His Shoes, the Color of Dreams

What does it all mean? It's simple really...

He won't be on the 101 because he doesn't fit in his car anymore. He tried the new bus to work, but the smell of all that burning biodiesel just made him all the more hungry.

And the shoes? The Blogger team is very close. This closeness needs to be expressed. Cuddling during meetings isn't appropriate in a work environment, so instead we poke a little fun at each other. All that shoe talk, that's little jabs at the fact that no one has seen Ev's feet, much less his shoes, in months.

That's right, Evan Williams is f'in huge.

Some folks mentioned that they saw it coming. We all should have. Consider the following photograph:

This was taken at Thanksgiving Oh Three, or as we called it, "Ev's Hungry Day". He was finishing off the food faster than we could make it. In retrospect, we were blinded by the shear spectical of it. We should have known...

So for all of you anxious to see where Ev shows up next, I suggest Tivo'in Montel. You may just see him getting pulled from his house by the San Francisco fire department and a tow truck.

And to Ev, I simply say: Bon appetite!

sucks. It wasn't as bad as the first time I had it, but it wasn't good either.

Fortunately, I had some Yogi Stomach Ease tea around. It tastes horrible (there's black pepper in it to make it taste better), but man does it help with the general crampy bloaty painfulness of it all.

My stomach still feels weak today. I'm glad I can count on google to have bananas, crackers, and soup... free everyday.