With RationReality.com on an indefinite hiatus, I find myself with no real outlet for writings about anything other than popular music or hard news. This is probably as good of a time as any to pay some long-overdue attention to the ol' MySpace blog. Fitting, I suppose, that I should do this around the Fourth of July. Here are a few loosely-connected observations:

* Independence Day. Happy Birthday, America! Two-hundred and thirty-two years ago, some scrappy colonists gave the Crown the old middle finger and established my right to blow shit up, Will Smith-style and yell "Fire!" in a crowded theatre...or something like that. Anyway, Hellz, yeah!
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* North Carolina. My home state has an interesting relationship with Independence Day. In May or 1775, the governing council of Mecklenburg County passed the Charlottetown Resolves, which stated the county would only recognize the laws passed by the Continental Congress in Philadelpha; This nullfied the laws of Parliament and the Crown. Not exactly a full declaration of independence, but it started the ball rolling. (Ironically, Mecklenburg County and its seat, Charlotte, were named after the then Queen of England.)

* Fireworks. Now, you'd think that given North Carolina's prominence in the story of American Independence, you'd be able to buy some real pyrotechnics here...but you'd be so very wrong. The most powerful fireworks available for sale in the Old Line State are the wussy-assed Roman Candle and smoke bomb. Still, that doesn't stop many from driving sometimes hundreds of miles into the wilds of South Carolina, where you can buy M-80s like a man--with dignity and total lack of regard for safety or public welfare. The rednecks across the Interstate began setting 'em off around 3pm on Friday afternoon. (I don't see the point of setting off fireworks in broad daylight, but, hey...) My pets were going nutso for about 8 hours straight. Thanks, guys! When you mix intense heat with ridiculous alcohol consumption and obnoxiously-overpowered fireworks, you'd think someone would lose a hand or two, but I never heard the first siren over there.


My Family. I spent part of the weekend at my parents' lake house in the Eastern part of the state. My grandparents were there, too, but the real center of attention was my two year-old nephew. Looking at the little booger at times, it's like I've gone back to 1976 to see myself at 2 years--except that this little guy can get away with infinitely more bad deeds and ill will than I would ever have been allowed to do. I just stood there and watched him throw his hard, plastic toys down on my folks' $8,000 hardwood floor, while my parents smiled obliviously in his direction. Sonovabitch! My evil little 2 year-old ass would have gotten waylayed for that!

Matthew Good Band. Years ago, I was writing reviews for a now-defunct online music retailer. I got to hear the U. S. version of MGB's Beautiful Midnight and I wrote one of the most glowing reviews I've ever written about it. To this day, it remains one of my absolute favorite recordings. Given all the driving I'd be doing this weekend, it seemed like an opportune time to spend some quality time with some of my favorite CDs, also including Our Lady Peace's Clumsy, Otto's Daughter's Renew, A's Hi-Fi Serious.and Queensrÿche's Operation: Mindcrime.
(Speaking of which, has anybody figured out who killed Sister Mary?)





The 2008 Ford Escape Hybrid. I can't say enough good things about this righteous ride! Great ride, great handling, awesome sound system (featuring Sirius Satellite Radio) and leather seats made this surprisingly-roomy small SUV a pleasure to drive all over North Carolina this weekend. The fact that the truck has just short of the same horsepower as the non-hybrid Escape's V6 whilst getting MPG in the 40s is pretty darn cool, too!


Wal-Mart Bathrooms. For some reason, I've been in a lot of them this weekend. I usually try to avoid Wal-Mart for the good of the community, but not this time. I don't know about those of you on the other side (i.e: "women"), but guys know that Wal-Mart bathrooms rank just below those at Greyhound depots when it comes to the overall "Experience". For one, there's the copious amounts of mysterious fluids on the floor. Hey, I have a dribble-dick, myself, but the beauty of urinals is that you can stand as close as you want. (Almost as close as you want, I guess. I don't want to be the guy that tests the limit of how close one could theoretically get.) Of course, the actual use of the facilities is only a small part of the ordeal. The real Hell begins after the zip-up. At the ridiculously shallow sinks, a lesson in frustration will be yours. The faucet will ejaculate a short spurt of water as you move your hands underneath it. Constantly making big, erratic motions to trigger the motion sensor which will turn on the tap will ensure that your hands will touch every surface of the basin and faucet, essentially leaving your hands less sanitary than they were before you went to the sink. Half the time, I can't wash all the soap off and just wipe the rest on my clothes.

Well, I hope you all had a good weekend. If you live in the United States, I hope you had fun on the Fourth of July and gave yourself enough time to recover from it. Until next time...