Perspiration – I’m gearing up to start playing tennis again. I’m not sure what to do with my glasses. I need them to see, but they tend to slip when I exercise.

Aspiration – I’ve spent the last few days listening to Bob Dylan albums and reading academic/obsessive theories about Bob Dylan. I will either write blog posts to follow up this one or this headful of ideas will drive me insane.

Liquid Inspiration – I’ve been making Pimm’s Cups. They’re not very strong, but they are very good.

Navigation – I’ve driven to Bloomington and Nashville recently for one-night trips. I hope to drive to more places soon. Any recommendations?

Maturation – Now some of my closest friends are getting married. I feel old.

Generation – When I was in elementary school, one of the magazines my parents had a subscription to was Wired. (When I think back to their reading lists, I realize my folks were/are pretty hip.) I remember seeing a few of these ads. I also remember saving things to Zip Disks. That about sums up the 90s for me.

Consternation – I just looked at the search terms that bring people to GBiotI. My favorites are “Gabe Bullard Syncopated,” “Old Bullard Lyrics,” “I was emo before Kanye made a hipster album” and “Garfield dying.” A few people come here every month looking for my professional information. For that, please go here.

BONUS ITEM:

Adoration – I just saw Stroszek for the first time. It’s great.

One time I was at a party where the host was letting Pandora DJ. A Bob Dylan song (Forever Young) came on. Before the first chorus, it was gone. A guest near the computer gave it a thumbs down and said, “Nobody our age takes that seriously any more.”

I like Bob Dylan. I grew up listening to Highway 61 Revisited, and Blonde On Blonde will always be in my top 10. In college I experimented with the “bad” albums that came later, but I never got into it. My roommate, on the other hand, was deep into Dylan; he owned Under The Red Sky, and said it had some redeeming tracks. He got me into a few albums I’d written off as not worth it, but I never reached his level of fandom. I could never listen to the abysmal, multi-tracked cover of “The Boxer” and not laugh.

After graduation and a few months of not living with a Dylan apologist, I thought I lost interest in further experimentation. When Dylan released a Christmas album last year, I wanted to avoid it. But my old ways got the best of me. The album’s existence ate away at me and I ended up streaming a few tracks. I thought of my former roommate and tried to find something redeeming in the songs, but there was nothing for me. Even if all the proceeds were for charity, Christmas in the Heart didn’t sit right. Dylan had been on a hot streak since Time Out Of Mind; he was touring and making great albums, plus his satellite radio show was consistently great. But then there were the Pepsi ads and the Christmas songs. How can Dylan’s output be so dramatically unbalanced? It’s not for a lack of a filter or editing, because he’s producing music slower than ever. (Of the 17 years in his career that he didn’t put out at least one album, more than half of them are in the last decade and a half.) It seems like Dylan puts out tracks he thinks are good, but record buyers and critics only agree with him at certain times.

Take for example, this:

This track was done for a children’s charity compilation, and it doesn’t seem like something Dylan tried to knock out in between rounds of golf or whatever it is that he does in his spare time. Compared to the classic records, this sounds downright slick. There’s a glaring tape editing error on the vocal track for “Stuck Inside of Mobile,” and the early acoustic albums sometimes sound like they were recorded in an empty office during lunch hour (Another Side of Bob Dylan probably was). But those classics sound good to me. I think they’re good records. The mistakes work. This cover of “This Old Man” sounds ridiculous, but it probably sounds just as good to Bob as anything off of Freewheelin’.

Thinking of that, I can’t help but wonder if my roommate was right. Maybe there is something redeeming about every Dylan album. Maybe I’m the one who can’t get it right. To test this theory, I’m going to listen to every Bob Dylan album ever. Forty-eight years of music and more than 30 albums; from Bob Dylan to Christmas In The Heart. Here are the rules:

1. Every album must be obtained legally, or as legally as possible. I own about half of them (this was surprising, because I don’t think I’ve ever listened to Planet Waves, but there it is in iTunes, where it’s apparently been since March 2007). I bought a few of these (probably Planet Waves) out of the used bin. To keep my bank account healthy throughout this new project, I’ll look for used copies first. This will also keep me from supporting the production of terrible records. If I buy a new copy of something that ends up being bad, I give the record company (and Bob himself) money for a product all the other customers tried to return.
2. I will listen to bootlegs, live albums and greatest hits if I can find them.
3. I will listen in chronological order. Maybe I can make some sort of chart based on trends in the music.
4. I have to listen to every song all the way through.

This may reek of the Weekly Records project I started last year. I’m still doing that, but it isn’t very interesting to write about anymore. I’m not reconsidering Dylan because it might be interesting to tell people about. I’m doing it because I want to see if there are any gems I’ve overlooked. It might be pretentious to say I like “Self Portrait,” but isn’t it just as elitist to say something a great musician worked hard on isn’t worth my time?

I’ll have to consider the opposite, too. Dylan may never have changed from the smart-alec he was in Don’t Look Back, and he’s taken strange turns not because he thinks it’s wise, but because he thinks it’s funny. Maybe some of his albums were meant as a prank on over-zealous critics and a test for fans who called Dylan America’s greatest poet. (If this sounds a bit far out, consider the scene in Don’t Look Back where a young English fan asks about the meaning of the Highway 61 Revisited cover photo. Dylan says there’s no meaning, but the fan says he’s spent an extensive amount of time studying it. It doesn’t seem implausible for anyone to want to step away from that kind of adoration.)

Or maybe there is no plan. Dylan’s work could just be hit or miss. The kind of circular logic I walked into in the last paragraph could be the makings of a pop music conspiracy theory, or it could be the clue to appreciating a lot of albums that I always thought were terrible. The only way for me to get to the bottom of it and be satisfied is to investigate and listen.

Stay tuned.

In the car – Nearly a year later, I only have 5,000 miles on my car. Maybe I’ll make some short trips soon. That, or at least go to Zappos to look for wing tips.

In my ears - Jonathan Richman is coming to Louisville, and I’m going.

On the air - The ballots are crowded in Louisville and I’m looking forward to the new season of election reporting.

Speaking of reporting - McSweeney’s 33 is a newspaper (literally, it’s The San Francisco Panorama) and a few copies finally made it to Louisville. One of those copies made it to my house, where it’s spread out on the living room floor right now.

To avoid printed pages – Try the Front Pages Tumblr. It’s a daily feed of front pages from the U.S. and U.K. with links to the top stories. It’s now the first RSS feed I look at in the morning.

And while we’re talking about nonfiction – I picked up a slightly used Mark Jacobson collection last week. I’m digging into it now and really enjoying the way he approaches stories. It’s kind of inspiring. He’s been reporting for years, but never writes like a jaded veteran. Every development seems surprising to him, and in turn surprising to me…the reader.

And now a movie - There’s a Stephin Merritt documentary making the festival rounds. Cool.

Maybe the cultural memory is expanding because of technology, longer lifespans, etc., I don’t know. I’m bringing this up because I went to a music student showcase yesterday and heard a 14-year-old play the Blink-182 song Dammit, which came out in 1997, when the singer covering it was 1 or 2 years old. The kid was really into playing this song; it seemed like an emotional experience for him. He was relating to Dammit the way kids born in 1983 related to it when it was new and they were 14.

That kid rocking out to Dammit would be like me, at age 14, earnestly rocking out to Wang Chung, Tiffany, Huey Lewis or any of the other hits of 1987.

Two fun asides:

1. When I was 14, Dammit was 2-years-old and completely old and uncool.
2. Tiffany and Billy Idol both had hits in 1987 with covers of Tommy James songs that were hits 19 and 20 years prior. That’d be like someone today having a hit with a Nirvana or Pixies cover. While today’s hitmakers probably still dig those acts, why would a band release a single of I Bleed, when the Pixies are still playing it live? Also, the Pixies still playing live and drawing big crowds of hipsters is like if Tommy James toured through the 80s and had thousands of teenagers lining up to watch him rock out to Hanky Panky.

• • Color Me Badd had a hit in 1991, and the biggest influence they’ve had on this generation’s culture is as the inspiration for the “Dick in a Box” skit. So maybe this new generation (my generation) is faster to idolize or mock the ‘oldies’ of modern times.

King of the Hill might be a postmodern cartoon. It’s humor usually comes from depicting mundane situations with such accuracy that they seem ridiculous. It’s almost like the writers spend half of every episode denying they’re making a cartoon. Some scenes play so straight they’re almost documentary. Boomhauer’s voice is one of the silliest on the show, but it’s not the funniest to me. Characters on the show that talk like normal people, with normal names like Jimmy Whichard who say normal things are funny because they’re characters on the show. And the show is a cartoon.

But King of the Hill might not be postmodern. Saying it is would over-philosophize the show and–in many ways–undermine the writers’ comedic chops. They’re being funny, and if the pursuit of humor leads to a show that can be philosophical, I’d give more credit to the writers for achieving their goal of comedy than for being (possibly) inadvertently po-mo.

The aggressive dryness turns some people off from King of the Hill. I have friends who say it’s too close to home and others who say it’s just not funny enough for them to watch. I can understand what they mean, and I can’t fault them for not liking the show’s style. The only criticism that really bothers me comes from those who say King of the Hill pushes right-wing ideas.

I’m not generally interested in knowing if people are liberals or conservatives, but the political approach to King of the Hill irks me because I just don’t think the show is politically conservative. People who think otherwise generally point out that Hank is the show’s protagonist, and he’s a conservative. Having a Reaganite come out on top in every episode might seem like a way to champion conservatism, but it’s not too often that Hank ‘wins’ at the end of the episode. The story arc usually leads Hank to a conflict with someone socially or politically opposed to him–government workers, psychologists, environmentalists–and ends with a resolution that does little to change the show’s canon. Hank at the end of the episode seems just like Hank at the beginning of the episode. He doesn’t die and he doesn’t dramatically change his life. Even if Hank reaches a happy resolution at the end of the show, it’s rarely because he defeats the antagonists. There’s always a compromise on Hank’s part.

For example, in one episode, Peggy and Hank fight over her role in the family. Frustrated with Hank’s apparent rebuke of her freedom, Peggy starts hanging around with feminist folk singers. She learns to play guitar and writes a song about a female turtle who is stuck in her shell. It’s an obvious metaphor for the Hills’ domestic life, and Peggy’s new friends love it. When Peggy performs the song at a guitar student showcase, she sees Hank in the back of the crowd, having come to terms with Peggy’s independence. She changes the song’s lyrics mid-performance, and ends up being ostracized by her new friends for singing about loving her husband. It might seem like Hank’s lifestyle won the day in this episode, but without his ability to compromise, the conflict wouldn’t have been resolved. The episode doesn’t undermine Peggy’s point of view, it shows the necessity of open-mindedness. Hank was stubborn and Peggy’s logic and passion made him change. Similarly, Peggy retreated from her position, and the episode showed the benefits of finding a medium between two comfort zones. If King of the Hill is pushing ideas, it’s pushing centrism here.

In another episode, Peggy is assigned to substitute teach a sex-ed class. At first, Hank refuses to accept that his son Bobby is going to learn reproductive health in school, let alone from Peggy. Hank can’t draw himself to discuss sex with his son, and he tells his wife she is forbidden from teaching the class. Peggy persists and Hank refuses to sign Bobby’s permission slip for the class. When the sex-ed day comes, Bobby goes with Hank to work. In Hank’s office, Bobby repeats a few of his dad’s arguments, and Hank realizes the necessity for sex-ed and appreciates Peggy’s bravery for teaching the class. He takes Bobby to school, where Bobby is the only student with permission to take the class. At that point, the Hills seem like the most logical family in Arlen, even though they’re raging liberals, comparatively.

The last, and possibly best, example comes from guest-star Chris Rock. In an early episode, Rock plays a comedian named Booda Sack who teaches Hank’s traffic school course. Hank doesn’t like Booda Sack’s abrasive or racially-charged jokes and ends up getting Booda Sack fired. Meanwhile, Bobby idolizes the comic and takes his own turn at abrasive and racially-charged humor. Booda Sack lets Bobby try out the act at the comedy club. When Hank finds out, he rushes to the club and stops Bobby in the middle of an unintentionally offensive stand-up set. When the crowd turns on them both, Booda Sack comes to the duo’s defense, and gives the audience a lecture about freedom of speech. The episode ends with Hank getting Booda Sack a job at Strickland Propane, where they trade “Your mama” jokes.

This episode highlights two of the ways Hank compromises in the show. First, he accepts that people like what Booda Sack does, so his own opposition to it doesn’t matter. He even lightens up enough to give it a try, taking a huge step out of his comfort zone. Second, Hank realizes that he can’t raise Bobby the way he wants to, and copes with it. He wants the best for Bobby, and accepts that he doesn’t know what that is. He knows that Bobby won’t be like him, and he gradually becomes okay with that. He changes his values to make peace with himself and the world around him. He isn’t trying to change the world, but just go along with it. That’s not political.

With almost every conflict in King of the Hill, the only resolution is rational compromise. The show doesn’t advocate one point of view–it champions the ability to change. No one in the show ever gets what they want, and they always end up happy. King of the Hill isn’t liberal or conservative…it’s moderate, and apolitically so. It doesn’t want to tell you what to think, it wants you to stop thinking you’re right.

It might seem like nonpartisan centrism is a boring thing to promote in a cartoon, but King of the Hill is boring. It’s boring on purpose, and that’s what makes it funny. So if the writers decide to extoll a political principle, it seems obvious that they would push for the belief that would be funniest in context. For a prime-time Fox cartoon sitcom that followed The Simpsons–and later preceded Family Guy–to champion social compromise is hilarious. It’s so funny that it seems possible the writers don’t want to espouse any philosophy, but are just going for laughs in the most unsuspected way. After all, they’re making a cartoon, and if that’s a postmodern way to make a cartoon, so be it, it’s also a funny way to make a cartoon.

In 2000, Hank went to a political rally and was so let down by George W. Bush’s clammy handshake that he considered not voting at all in the election. He eventually cast a ballot, but did’t say who he’d voted for. Whether he gave up his belief in the Republican Party and voted for Gore or whether he abandoned his image of presidents as tough, hard-gripped leaders and voted for Bush doesn’t matter. It made for a funny 22 minutes.

And there have been a few updates on Tumblr.

Only in moderation – I’m studying cocktails and mixology, hoping to create a signature drink for myself. I’m pretty good with Manhattans, Black Russians and Lime Rickeys.

Let’s hope they’re not blurry – I’m taking a photo every day.

And if I’m making drinks – I should become a better cook. I’m not horrible, but my repertoire is limited to a few soups, spaghetti squash and other vegetable sides.

While we’re talking about diligence - I set a few more goals for myself this year.

Looking back to 2009 - I read a few articles and a book on Carl Jung. I’m looking to explore him further, but I think I need to study his influences and contemporaries before going deeper.

More than obligatory - Linda has a site, too.

Now that it’s 2010 - I can start scoping out locations to watch World Cup matches.

I’ve set a few rules for myself:

1. Each photo has to be at least a little thoughtful: no quick snapshots before bed.
2. No staging photos. If I want to go out to take pictures, fine, but no regular photo hunts or sessions for the daily shots.
3. Each photo should say something about the day it was taken–what I did, how I felt, etc.

I’ll use any camera I can for the pictures: either my iPhone, point-and-shoot Nikon or larger Sony.

So, here’s the Flickr album where I’ll post photos. I may not post one photo every day, but I’ll try to stay as current as possible.

And here is the first photo. It’s a set of party sunglasses in my building’s laundry room.

• Songs that start with countoffs
• Songs that start with countoffs that aren’t in 4/4 time
• Rock songs in 3/4 time
• Songs with drum tracks in reverse
• Songs released before 9/11 with singers calling themselves terrorists
• Songs about writing songs
• Songs with references to bands playing other songs
• Songs with false starts: the band starts playing, stops, acknowledges a mistake, and starts over.
• Songs that mention sodas that aren’t name-brand (Orange Crush alone gets 4 or 5 shout-outs)
• Songs about train accidents

This last list, combined with a recent revisit of the Robert Moses biography got me working on songs about public transportation in cities. There are so many New York singers who mention the subway that I decided to exclude passing references (Dylan’s “Girls” who “Whisper of escapades out on the D train”) to subways or buses. I kept songs with public transportation references that are crucial to the plot or overall tune. (For example, Cloud Room’s Hey Now Now made the list. It isn’t about riding the bus, but a bus figures into the title reference in the chorus. “Hey now now/we’re going downtown/we’ll take the bus there/pay the bus fare.” I kept it on the list.)

Two of the standouts, though, take a stand against some part of public transit. They’re also both parodies.

The first is Charlie on the MTA. While the folk tradition allows borrowed melodies, this song reworks The Ship That Never Returned to take a jab at Boston’s complicated MTA schedule and payment rules. The last verse is a direct political appeal, too.

Here’s Brian Dewan singing it:

The second song is a more outright parody. It’s Dave Van Ronk’s Georgie on the IRT. This is a parody of Engine 143 — a violent train death song popularized by The Carter Family.

This exploration into song themes led to a fascination with pre-rock songs that address municipal concerns. Brian Dewan (who performed Charlie on the MTA in the video above) started an archiving project of sorts for these songs a few years ago. His album Words of Wisdom is a collection of largely-forgotton parlor ditties from before 1950. One of the tracks, Civil War, is about a fight over sewer lines in a small town.

So the purpose of this post is…

1. To point out an interested trend in popular music.
2. To ask: Does anyone know of any other sources for songs like this?
3. To also ask: Are there any other sources for music sorted by theme online? (Yes, I’m aware of Bob Dylan’s satellite radio show)

The article is here.

While this is a toy, I think it’s worthwhile to imagine a future without physical print media. I think Steven Johnson would agree that while it’s fine great to read, it isn’t anti-intellectual to favor other forms of mental stimulation.