It's been four months since I started this batch. I might've waited too long to rack it the first time, we'll find out eventually I supposed.

I poured a little bit into a shot glass for testing. You can't see the (very) pale yellow color, but I do like the clarity. Still tastes very "hot", hoping it will mellow as time passes.

Never have.  Not even if the most charming, gorgeous females in the room try to encourage me to shake my booty.

This led to... feedback.



Look, when I say "I don't dance", there's a good reason for it.  I've been down that road, and it's a street that dead-ends in the bad part of town.

Love and pasta, with both feet firmly on the ground,
John

So, I've been playing basses with six strings for a couple of years now.  Where do I go from here?



How about a guitar with 18 strings?

This is a journey that can only end with the purchase of a Chapman Stick.

Love and pasta - and string changes that take an hour!
John

Once upon a time, my good friend Harold called me up and said "Whatcha doing this weekend?"

That, my friends, is a loaded question, doubly so if coming from Harold.  The dude is simultaneously the smartest and craziest person I know.  Through trial and error, I learned that the correct response to Harold when he poses this question is "That depends.  What are you doing?"

It just so happened that Harold wanted to brew some beer on that particular weekend, and he thought I'd be interested in helping out.  Don't you know that he was right?  Up until that point, my only exposure to beer was from the consumer's happy perspective.  It was an interesting way to spend an afternoon and part of an evening.

In the many years between then and now, I've thought about brewing up a batch of beer of my own but was dissuaded by the cost both in money (for ingredients, yes, but more for the hardware) and time (cooking, primary and secondary fermentation, etc).  Wrestling five-gallon carboys of fermenting liquid just isn't a lot of fun.  Lately, though, I've been introduced to mead.

Brewing mead is more "set and forget" than beer.  Sure, it takes months (or years!) to age to the point where it can be consumed instead of weeks like beer, but the mead I've tasted is better than any beer I've had.  So yeah, I've been actively looking for small-batch (1 gallon or so) mead recipes that looked simple enough for even me to cook up.

This week, I found one.  It's been brewing now for all of 10 minutes.  I'll let you know how it progresses.

Love and pasta, and (hopefully!) honey wine,
John

I like cats, I really do. But when I'm around them, sometimes I turn into my alter ego, The Incredible Phlegm.

This is why I can never be in a serious relationship with a girl that has cats:



I haven't been hit this hard in a long time. After 2 showers I'm a little better, but not much. I'm still squinting, sneezing, and trying (unsuccessfully) to keep from rubbing my eyes. I'm just glad this doesn't happen with dogs!

Sorry for the hiatus. Non-MySpace life intruded. Hopefully today's entry will make up for it.

But I must warn you! The following link contains music and laughter. A lot of laughter.

I wish I'd had the guts to do this!

Love and pasta, and busting moves,
John

(side note: I spent over three hours writing and editing a post about Shannon Scott's death and what it stirred up inside me. Myspace promptly ate it whole, dammit! I guess the most important thing is that I got those thoughts out of my head and expressed onto some medium, but I still feel that I should write something. I will - again - as soon as my thoughts compose themselves again.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled blog entry:)

Voter apathy is something that amazes me. Maybe it's because I was glued to the TV set while the 2000 election results were being hashed out, maybe it's simply because I'm more aware of the limited amount of future that's available to me and I want it to be a good one. I dunno.

But I can't let statement like this one pass by without comment:

I'd still probably vote, because you're voting for more than the President, of course, but I'm not going to pretend that my millionth-of-a-percentage-point or whatever is really making a difference.

My reply to this:

To win the election, a candidate must have 270 electoral votes. In 2000, Bush won with 271 votes.

In Florida, the difference between the two candidates was 537 votes out of more than 5800000 votes cast. As a result, 25 electoral votes went to Bush.

Missouri's margin of victory in 2000 was 3.34%, so our 11 electoral votes went to Bush.

Think your vote doesn't count? Think again.

I hope each and every one of you voted this week.

Oh, and check out my favorite website for updates on the election: www.electoral-vote.com.

Love and pasta, and democracy,
John

Lemme tell you, having a borderline high-grade fever* is no fun. I've lived through the last 48 hours on tea, pasta, and some chocolate for fat and sugar.

I'll justify any way I wish, thank you. Bite me.

Anyway, after 48 hours I knew that some kind of meat was in order, preferably something that could be delivered - and even better would be something from my favorite eating establishment.

So I placed an order with the local "you buy it, we'll fly it" outfit and listened to my stomach growl.

Imagine my surprise when I found this note placed with my order:



Yup, Holly's a sweetheart. And I know you're all jealous 'cause she loves meeee!

Love and pasta, and wings that make you go "Awww!",
John

*The fever is still hovering around the 100 degree mark. I anticipate wearing long johns to the FOL gig at Magic Bean tomorrow night!

Three bands: Phases, EWag3, and Funkee Noosa.

My first impression of Phases was good: a nice clean, sparse sound with 311 influence. Vocals meshed well with guitar work, and the rhythm section was solid - then they cranked the "chops" knob up to 11 and left my jaw on the floor. I could have listened to these guys all night, and hope to be able to see them again soon.

EWag3 played what might have been our best set to date. Normally my on-stage movement oscillates between "none" and "very damned little", but last night found me jitterbugging all over the place. I was also moving around a lot on (and off!) the stage at our Lindberg's show Wednesday night, so maybe I'm finally starting to get comfortable with expressing myself through motion - something that's entirely new to me. It's kinda fun.

Funkee Noosa really nailed putting the cap on an amazing evening, with funky melodic get-your-ass-on-the-floor songs that had the audience screaming for more - MUCH more! - when they finished. So far, David has resisted my efforts to lure him to the dark side of six string bassdom, but I'll keep trying.

Because we play a more traditional rock and roll than the other bands, I was worried that we wouldn't fit in; that the audience would hate us. Sometimes it's good to be wrong. The audience was appreciative, and members of all three bands expressed interest in performing together again.

There was some kind of magic in the air last night. I don't know if it's something that can be repeated, but I'm willing to give it a shot, and I don't think you should miss it.

Love and pasta,
John