It's one more random than 10!
The Lovely Becky and I had our first doctor's appointment yesterday. It was the first appointment since the scare-me-shitless incident, and it also came at the end of the first trimester. That means we're at the point where you might notice stuff about little TBD, stuff that could be bad.
The doctor set up the ultrasound, and there was TBD on the screen. I have to admit, it looked more Rorschach than human at first, until we saw the spine and the heart and the head. "Everything looks healthy and normal," said the doctor. I have never been so happy to hear the word "normal." And I know when TBD gets to be a teenager, we'll hear about how s/he needs the right clothes/shoes/hair dye/piercing to be an individual, but right now, I want TBD to be just like all the other normal babies.
Anyway, I want to say thank you to everyone for their support over the years—new virtual friends as well as old fashioned bricks-and-mortar friends. You have no idea how much your words and deeds have helped. I know we're not out of the woods, but I at least feel like I have a map and the Blair Witch is no longer leaving bundled sticks outside my tent. Now let's write about some tunes.
1) "Waiting for the 7.18," Bloc Party. It's odd to hear songs about office life now that my commute consists of climbing a flight of stairs and it's impossible to have good water cooler conversations with cats. I dig this song because, even though the lyrics are a little cloying—making a couplet with "sudoku" is never a good idea—it's a big song, designed to reach the back of the stadium. I like that some bands still try to write those kinds of songs. Does anyone remember grandeur?
2) "Bad Light," Built to Spill. I miss guitar heroics, too, which were unfortunately strip- mined in the 80s by leather-pants-clad cobags playing hammer-ons before they could learn to drive. Built to Spill bring the taste back to guitar heroics, stacking layers of riffs and melodies on top of each other, but without ever sacrificing the song for flash.
3) "Don't Get Excited," Graham Parker. An oldie that I recently discovered and wonder how I missed this. He manages to out-Elvis Costello Elvis Costello. Catchy, angryish new wave with great riffs and clever, often sarcastic lyrics. Also known as "my cup of tea."
4) "Lipstick Sunset (Live)," John Hiatt. Fellas, if you need a good song to set the mood with your lady, this is a great choice. Hiatt croons some romantic lyrics over a slow, but not too slow, beat. The perfect road trip song for the journey from the living room to the bedroom.
5) "The Hammer," Motorhead. Also a great romantic choice if you're dating Gina from The 40-Year Old Virgin. Amusing Motorhead aside: Freshman year of college, I had to take a composition course. Our teacher, one of the grad students, used to wear a complete preppy outfit of penny loafers, Levi's, and a tweed jacket, but added a Motorhead t-shirt to the mix. At the time I thought he was a tool, but I realize now he was also an irony pioneer.
6) "Prison Sex," Tool. Perfect for setting the mood if you're incarcerated. Hey, Mad Dog, they're playing our song! Will you walk me to my cell? This is the only album I ever bought because of a music video.
7) "Good Luck," Basement Jaxx. Danceflooricious.
8) "For All the Cows," Foo Fighters. I loved the first Foo Fighters album because of songs like this, but never got into their other albums after that. However, I hope Dave Grohl continues to be popular, because he gets what it means to be a rock star. He's completely dedicated and passionate and yet doesn't take himself too seriously.
9) "Perfect Circle," R.E.M. At the other end of the serious spectrum. Michael Stipe ruined R.E.M. for me, as much as he made me like them in the first place. Has he smiled since Out of Time came out? It's not like I want musicians to be Lenny Bruce necessarily, but you play rock music for a living. Pull the microphone pole out and loosen up a bit.
10) "Dog Eat Dog," AC/DC. I remember seeing an interview with baseball steroid gladiator Jason Giambi, back when he was an emerging star instead of a state's witness. He was wearing a hat that read, "Drive it like you stole it." That's how AC/DC played music before Bon Scott choked to death, like they had been given the keys to a Ferrari and they had better floor it to 150 before someone realized who was behind the wheel. That's also why I always crank early AC/DC to 11.
11) "Jail Guitar Doors," The Clash. Songs like this are why the first Clash album is on my desert island list.
The Lovely Becky bought me this for Christmas, and there will be some serious dork blogging about it later this weekend. Until then, have a good one.