B3 or be square

A Mound Builder IPA and I wait for my man B3 god Tony Monaco at the Uptown Jazz and Blues Festival.

You gotta be comfortable doing it

Let's rock! Suiting up for the Southwestway Trail 15K.

Hot and sweaty

That big glass of water I drank before running this morning was gone by the time I got back.

Kids these days

In the older building where my office is located, in an older restroom where you have to push a handle down to flush the urinal, kids frequently don't because they have grown up in a world where urinals routinely flush themselves. It annoys me, yes, but more than that it makes me feel sorry for them. They never experienced the thrill of dodging Jarts, either.

After the Nearly Sane (depends on your perspective) half

I like a race that personalizes my number--and puts a beer opener in my swag bag.

No gnomes here, just us zombies

New in the butterfly garden, where I saw my first butterfly, briefly, today. What can I say, I'm just not a garden gnome kind of dude.

Punt, pass, kick it ain't

Arrive Indy from San Diego 1:30 a.m. Drive to Chicago, arrive 4:30 a.m. Shower, pin number on shirt, nap 30 minutes, get up, stretch, suit up, walk/jog about 2 miles to start line, run Big 10 Network 10K--2 minutes 14 seconds faster than last year. Followed by shower, lunch and collapse. Later, beer.

Late lunch

Sampler at Neighborhood (a San Diego bar suggested by the Big C). Pliny the Elder second from right.

He's Rapid Roy on that guitar

Listening to Lenny "Fuzzy" Rankins play the blues at Jim Croce's wife's bar. I think Jim would have enjoyed it.

Candye is dandy

Tonight... Candye Kane. I've been waiting for this all my life.

Night, night sailor

I have to say the room Purdue arranged for me at the XSEDE conference is not the greatest.

With an ocean view no less

I could probably get used to running along San Diego Bay with the sun coming up.

Undestructable

How many darkest moments and traps
Still lay ahead of us
How many final frontiers
We gonna mount
And maybe no victory laps
But if you stepped on path of sacred art and stuck it out through thick and thin
God knows you become one
With undestructable
--Eugene Hütz

Every journey starts with...

Monumental Marathon training starts the same way as Illinois Marathon training, by putting a foot out the door. Warmer weather, however, about 65 degrees warmer according to my training log for Jan. 2.

Great morning for a run

Nice romp in the Water Drop 5K at Wabash Riverfest this morning, which makes 9 races in the last 8 weeks. I have to take a break from racing now or someone will call for an intervention. Not to mention that Indy Monumental Marathon training starts Monday.

Open for business butterflies

New butterfly garden, although the only thing I've seen in it so far is a chipmunk.

Well, they were new shoes

Before. After.

My name is mud

I got your Tough Mudder right here bub. End of the Brown County trail 15K (which is actually a 10 miler).

Wetter is better

Let's race trails.

Life is short, run fast(er)

I just don't know how my life spiraled down to a point where this is the case. I was 3 minutes 16 seconds faster in the second 3 miles of the Firecracker 6 than the first and it makes me very happy.

Firecracker 6 receipt

>

My receipt.

My new bible

Of course I wanted to drink with Sena all night, but the bible (this bible) says a righteous man will hit certain paces in the Firecracker 6 mile in downtown Indy tomorrow morning and so, being a more or less righteous man, I will go to bed (relatively) early and try to hit those paces.

Sena and the brew

This beer and Sena Ehrhardt, priceless.

Butterfly welcome mat(s)

Butterfly garden waiting to be planted, if the rabbits don't get it. But I like running with the rabbits when we're the only ones up before the sun mornings.

Cleveland and a quarter sighting

White shoes, white belt, white hat, I say it's still a full Cleveland. If you've got the tie, too, it's a Cleveland and a quarter.

I scoff at your StairMaster

The 100 steps that ended the Waterfall Trail 10K this morning (after a bunch of hills, ravines and lots of mud). That's just mean. Satisfying, but mean.

OK, not that horse, but hey...

I kicked this guy's ass, but he was magnanimous about it.

He's going so down

I think I can take him. Waiting for the track to clear before the Hoosier Park 8K this morning

Geared

Packing for the weekend. Doing a double: Hoosier Park 8K Saturday ( on the horse track no less), Waterfall Trail 10K Sunday.

Happy (and fast) Hog Jog Saturday

I kicked this guy's ass and knocked more than 3 minutes off my best 10K time. After the 35th annual Flora Hog Jog this morning

Ahhhhh

Where's that beer you promised me?

Now that's a post game

What you get after the Wholly Hell Trail 15K, Chicago dog and a cold IPA. Hell? Hell, I may run it again and get two.

Breakfast of champions

Breakfast of champions, and old(er) guys who will finish somewhere around the middle of the pack.

Happy National Running Day

I was going to run and then I found out it was National Running Day, so I ran. You can't even make this kind of shit up.

That's why they call it a "trail" race

It's a trail race buddy, don't tip-toe around the mud, baja it. After the Tales-N-Trails 5K Saturday at the Tippecanoe County Amphitheater. I took a detour (also know as a wrong turn) in the woods so it was actually more like 6K.

Beep, beep

I felt like a real doofus running with a metronome this morning, but I have to say it was oddly hypnotic.

And a month after the marathon...

I raced in Indianapolis today. Here is my "car." (Altra Superiors, I love these shoes.) The track was a little muddy, and rocky, rooty and hilly, too.

Things I only get from Portuguese lessons

O menino tem uma fantasia de leão. Personally, I wish the kid would shut up about it.

Mind thumbing

The real problem with having a gash on the end of my right thumb is that it mitigates my advantage over lesser animals, especially cats. (I'm thinking of you Larry, you thumbless bastard.)

Because if you're going to be crazy, be really crazy

I used to take these thousand mile plus wilderness canoe trips and while I enjoyed taking the trips what really floated my boat was the getting ready for the thing, the logistics, if you will. Now, I find that this is a primary attraction of running a marathon, the months of preparation leading up to the actual running, and having run a marathon two weeks ago, and currently running in limited increments, and carefully, to recover, I find I sorely miss the excessive self abuse. So, may the gods allow, I am just going to have to run another one this year: Monumental Marathon in Indy we have a date.

Another jazz fest in the bag

Taj Mahal with tubas, followed by a hot shower, followed by a cold Bayou Teche LA-31 Biere Noire. Not a bad evening, not bad at all.

And the gods said, let there be the blues

Don't bother me, I'm at church. Satan (Sterling "Mr. Satan" Magee of Satan & Adam) playing the blues on Sunday morning at jazz fest.

Faces in different places

Then again, Maxine.

Rock and bowling, also drinking

They have bowling here, and beer and Amanda Shaw and Tab Benoit playing on stage. I hope I haven't like died and gone to heaven. Then again...

This fellow is crazy for the lady in red

Ana Popovic in her soulful dress playing her soulful, bluesy, scintillating, searing, soaring guitar, plus beer. I'd say just shoot me now because it can't possibly get any better. But hey, there's still two days of jazz fest left.

Abita #1

Ahhhhh! That first cold Abita the first day of jazz fest.

Running, more like shuffling

Always a bit if an adventure those first couple miles after going 26.2.

Buddy Bolden awaits me

I'm comin' Buddy, soon, put the Abita on ice.

Walking tall, and stiff

I think it is safe to say I'm going to wish I had gone for the one-level condo for the next couple days.

Spoils

And all I had to do to get them was engage in five hours of a modern version of flagellation.

The very definition of insanity

Watching the sun come up over the University of Illinois Memorial Stadium with a big grin on my face thinking about how I'm about to run 26 miles (plus .2, don't forget the .2). Yes, I've completely lost it.

Brrrrr 2

End of the KeyBank 8K last Saturday. It's supposed to be about 25 degrees warmer this Saturday, and for that the gods have my appreciation.

There'll be a lot on the plate

Hal Higdon says run a couple miles this morning, so I ran a couple miles. No more running until Saturday. Then I get a couple dozen miles to savor, plus a couple, plus .2, a veritable smorgasbord of miles. And intend to try consuming every one.

Not a breakfast food (or lunch, or supper)

Eu gosto de cães. In my online Portuguese lesson for today: Food 3. I like dogs. I'm hoping that's as in "I like doggies so I feed them treats." As opposed to "I like dogs sautéed with mushrooms and garlic in a little red wine."

Anybody wonder...

How this teenager and his brother were able to assemble a small arsenal of guns and ammunition and, should their bomb array turn out to be black powder-based, the gun powder to make a bunch of bombs? Didn't think so. Sure love that unfettered right to bear arms.

Just a little run before the big run

KeyBank 8K in the bank. Next stop, my old Champaign-Urbana stomping (or drinking, as the case may be) grounds and the Illinois Marathon.

Brrrrr

Since it's going to insist on being in the 30s, with wind chill in the 20s, for the KeyBank 8K in Carmel tomorrow morning I'm going to wear the Fort Lauderdale A1A half marathon shirt and tell myself those are the ocean breezes freezing my ass off.

Poor Wayne, poor, poor Wayne

Psychology tells us that guys with big guns are just trying make up for small "packages," if you know what I mean, and I think you do. I actually feel a little sorry for them. The operative word being "little." Jeez, Wayne LaPierre must have a real thimble dick.

I ran 7 miles today and whenever my pace lapsed I just called up Mafalda doing this.

What Danielle says

About Indiana…

The Truth About Love

“Where there is desire there is gonna be a flame. Where there is a flame someone's bound to get burned. But just because it burns doesn't mean you're gonna die. You gotta get up and try, try, try.”
--Pink

This is true about most things, not just love.

Also, she rolls out several good tunes on this new CD.

She also uses bad language. I'm for that.

Which is the Truth About Love.

31st IOSF set for West Lafayette

The 31st International Othersports Festival will be held Aug. 31-Sept. 3 in West Lafayette, Indiana. There is a a Purdue home football game that Saturday, so those of you needing accommodations may want to make arrangements ASAP. A list of possibilities follows.

Bowling is scheduled for after the football game so you may attend the game if you would like. The Purdue Athletic Ticket Office would undoubtedly sell you as many seats as you want. The opponent is Eastern Kentucky University, nickname the Colonels, whose mascot looks distinctly like a certain fried chicken restaurant franchise founder, albeit a version who's been eating a lot of factory farm fowl pumped up with steroids. This is all true. A special event will be scheduled during the game for those not attending. Miniature golf, at an exciting new venue, will be Sunday afternoon. Opening ceremonies will be Friday night as usual.

More details in an IOSF Tattler to follow. (Production delay due to ongoing restructuring discussions. The t-shirts have been printed, however.)

Accommodations:
1) Prestige Inn: 1217 Sagamore Parkway West, West Lafayette, 765-463-1531.
2) Four Points by Sheraton Hotel: U.S. 52 West at Cumberland Ave., West Lafayette, 877-214-0732.
3) Union Club Hotel: State and Grant streets, West Lafayette, 765-494-8913.
4) Campus Inn, 200 Brown St., West Lafayette, 765-743-9661.
5) Hilton Garden Inn: 356 E. State St., West Lafayette, 765-743-2100. They give out cookies at the desk at night.
6) Holiday Inn Select City Centre, 515 South St., Lafayette, 765-423-1000.
7) Knight's Inn: 4110 State Road 26, Lafayette, 765-447-5611. (Many other hotels in the Knight’s Inn area as well, but said area is kind of far away.)
8) Motel Hell: 666 Stix St. (Hades Road), Lafayette, 666-666-0666. Free sausage!

Running tomorrow

There isn't a damn thing I wouldn't do for Aldina Duarte when she's doing this.

Aldina Duarte distilling fado to its essence and stirring my soul.

Fado at the source

Carminho tarting up and singing about Mouraria, wellspring of fado. I need to trod those steps again. Carminho needs to put out another CD.

Future muse

So I don't know if Bjork's iPad album/app Biophilia is the future of pay-for music, but I do know listening to, watching, playing with it would be hell on wheels if I still knew where to get a hit of Thai stick in 2011, if they even have Thai stick in 2011.

Esperanza Spalding, Esperanza, Heads Up

I saw her Chamber Music Society for the second time this week and it was wonderful just like the first time. The most accessible Third Stream-style mix of jazz and classical forms in some time and I may be doing it something of an injustice characterizing it that way. In many respects, it is pathbreaking music. You gotta be doing something unusual to derail the Bieber juggernaut for a Grammy.

As much as I appreciate Chamber Music Society, the performances and the CD, this is my favorite Esparanza set so far (I mean, we only have three CDs and she should have a long way to go being, basically, a kid). From 2008, the focus is on her considerable ability as a jazz musician, singing, and even more importantly, as a magnificent bassist. If tunes like Espera don't get your heart going pitter-patter, you may be dead. Art Blakey would have been down with hard-bopper If That's True, which works Donald Harrison in on alto sax. Mingus would have dug it all.

Giants

Whenever I hear John Coltrane play Giant Steps I think, he had to be an extraterrestrial who dropped in for a visit, heard Charle Parker play, became enamored of jazz and stuck around to blow for the love of it until the extraterrestrial bigwigs made him come home.

Kind of like that X-Files episode The Unnatural with the Negro Leagues baseball player from outer space.

The end

Finishing the Wabash Heritage Trail 15K on Sunday, Oct. 2, 2011.

I felt kind of bad about passing the guy behind me near the end.

But if I hadn't, then he would have been the top dude in the 50-59 age group, not me. That's why they call it a race, I guess.

Running just as fast as we can

Time for first 15k on Aug. 6, 2:02:33

Time for 15k today, 1:34:41. Slow but headed in the right direction, more or less quickly. I even passed a guy at the end to finish first in my age group. Then I felt kind of bad about it, although I kept the medal.

The pleasure is in the run, not the finish, and both runs were a pleasure. (I have to say the cool October run was a little more pleasurable for my body than the hot and humid August run, however.)

Next up, Monumental Half Marathon in Indianapolis Nov. 5.

Gigi Gryce, Doin' the Gigi, Uptown

George General Grice, Jr., AKA Gigi Gryce and Basheer Qusim, got sick of the music business early in the 1960s and went into teaching disadvantaged and troubled kids using music as a tool. When he died in 1983, too young at 57, they named a school after him. So he left a heck of a legacy.

What he didn't leave was a big recorded legacy and while his students are richer for the career change, those of us who appreciate the music of a gifted alto sax player, composer and arranger admired by his peers could be excused for ruing it, if just a little. However, we're richer now, too, thanks to this collection of never-before-released cuts from studio demos and live radio and TV sessions (with good sound throughout).

We get some of Gryce's compositions, but what I really like about it is his rearranging of some well-chewed standards, which renders, for instance, Take the A Train and Stompin' at the Savoy in a way that retains the essence of the originals while sounding like almost entirely new songs. Gryce is in excellent form on both those cuts, and most of the others as well, making me think of Charlie Parker and Sonny Stitt (on alto) here and Benny Carter or Johnny Hodges there, while nonetheless always being Gigi.

The other revelation to me is trumpeter Richard Williams, who appears on most of the tracks. He's every bit of Kenny Dorham and Donald Byrd (another bandmate of Gryce's) and also died too young, of cancer at 54 (this I do not like).

Ranges from classic bebop to sophisticated stuff akin to the modal productions of Miles Davis around the same time, all of it good for many listens right out of the box.

Nothing to fear, but fear

"Fear. It's the oldest tool of power. If you're distracted by the fear of those around you, it keeps you from seeing the actions of those above."

-- Fox Mulder

Gee, why didn't the Koch brothers think of that?

Never mind.

What Pops said

"What's money anyhow? You make it and you might eat a little better than the next cat. You might buy a little better booze. But you get sick just like the next cat, and when you die you're just as graveyard dead as he is."

-- Louis Armstrong

Amen daddy!

Ana Popovic, Unconditional, Eclecto Groove

Ana Popovic sings a little like Big Mama Thornton (and Helen Reddy) and plays the guitar a little like Stevie Ray Vaughan (and Robert Cray), which is kind of weird when you consider she's from Belgrade, and I don't mean the one near St. Louis, or even the ones in Maine and Montana. Still, you know it's true, music is a universal language and I might say the blues is universal, too.

In any event, Count Me In and Soulful Dress are going into the running playlist Mix 26.2 because you hear them and the feet must move. Sonny Landreth adds a second slide on one tune and there's some b-a-d bad organ and harp playing in the bargain. It's all good.

Danielle Ate the Sandwich sings her excellent song American Dream with some kids/fans from North Carolina.

Amusing Danielle Ate the Sandwich video. They blew her off in Kentucky so I got to see her in Indianapolis. Her voice is even more wonderful in person. The CD is her latest, Two Bedroom Apartment, and it's boffo.

Townes Van Zandt, Live at the Old Quarter, Fat Possum Records

Townes Van Zandt wasn't a stunning guitar player and his singing voice wasn't all that great but, man, he could play and sing. And write lyrics that melt your heart and stir your soul and can feel so sad even when they're funny, like Talking Thunderbird Blues.

Country blues, maybe not officially, although I'm not uncomfortable classifying it that way given tunes such as Chauffer's Blues, which could have come right from the Delta. Call it Country and Western Folk meets the Blues Folk, and a copacetic meeting it is.

And I don't mean in a Halloween way

The Way the Whole Thing Ends on Gillian Welch's The Harrow & The Harvest, Acony, is about the most haunting (new) tune I've heard in a good long while. She may be a folkie, but I hear some Bessie Smith and Billie Holiday in there, not to mention some Woody Guthrie and Mississippi John Hurt, with a nicer voice but no less emotive.

Really good guitar playing as well.

The murder of Troy Davis by Georgia got me thinking

"Whether the trial witnesses against him were lying then or are lying now, by fighting against his requested relief Georgia is saying that its interest in the finality of its capital judgments is more important than the accuracy of its capital verdicts."

-- From a thoughtful Atlantic piece by Andrew Cohen.

So if government is "bad" when it taxes you, what about when it kills you, and with more than a "reasonable doubt" that you did the thing for which you're being killed? Why aren't John Boehner, Michele Bachmann, Ron Paul, et al, stepping up to the plate on that issue?

Of course, we know where Rick "Serial Executionier" Perry stands.

Saudade on Sept. 11

This evening I am listening to Portuguese fado music. The fado is rooted in the concept of saudade, loosely translated an intense longing for things lost. Lives, for instance, thousands on this day 10 years ago, hundreds of thousands since, mostly without purpose. Or the rule of law that says one may not be held indefinitely without a trial by a jury of one's peers, or even without being charged with any crime at all. Or the idea that a person should be judged on content of character, not choice of church or of headdress. Or the right to communicate and/or travel freely without being surveilled by the CIA and the New York City police and strip searched, virtually or literally. Or the notion that state-sanctioned assassination inevitably leads to more problems than it solves. These, and an economy devastated by 10 years of ill-advised and ineffective war, are the wages of 9/11, or, rather, our reaction to it. Celebrate that.