My husband, who is always good to me, has been especially good lately. My needs during this terrible winter (while I appreciate the bracing cold as much as the next Minnesotan, I’d like it with some sun, which has been in short supply) have turned to the musical, and Jim has not disappointed.



My pile for this weekend includes new releases by Headlights, Joe Pug, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart (My god! Slumberland is still releasing records, and once again they sound like the records they were releasing 15 years ago! Can a new issue of Chickfactor be far behind? I hope not!), Slipstream, and a recently-mastered-not-out-for-awhile Horse’s Ha release, featuring the many talents of one Janet Beveridge Bean, whose acquaintance I made one August 1991 day in Chicago at Empire Records. She was quite pregnant, with her feet up on the counter, and I was new to town. Man, we were kids, though she had a couple years on me and had recorded several records already with her band and the growing up, at least for me, had not even started (though I thought I had Been Through A Lot).



However, today’s musical surprise was the new Olson & Louris record, Waiting For the Flood. There’s some backstory here (isn’t there always?) but the short version is that I was around when the Jayhawks were around back in the Minneapolis Day and, well, I’ve kept some tabs. I knew Mark (Olson) and Gary (Louris) were back together after years of not writing songs together and were planning a tour, but I had somehow missed that the resulting record was out already. I asked Jim very nicely to order me one and he went ahead and did so, but then showed up at my office with a copy at 3 PM. My guy! It was excellent to have it in the player.



While my preference is to be so bowled over by music that I’m laying on the ground weeping after the first listen, that doesn’t seem to happen very often these days… and did not happen with this record. However, most of the way through I suddenly heard myself singing along to one of the tracks and realized it’s one they used to perform live almost 20 years ago. I had taped a performance and listened to it so many times that all the songs were committed to memory. Most of them have already been released on other records. Oh! It was good to hear it again.







My baby is taking photos at rock shows now. He was assigned the Jeff Tweedy show last weekend and got some excellent snaps. The irony here is that Uncle Tupelo were, I think, the first band I ever interviewed - in 1990. Gary and Marc from Jayhawks were on the assist. Oh, life is funny.



Photo above by Cody. You can see more of his work here.

Things just speed right along. I finally got some carrots:

Let’s see. Since I last wrote:

1. I gave up eating wheat. Not gluten (too difficult, and not sure celiac’s my problem), just wheat (plenty difficult all by itself). After eight days fully wheat-free (I forgot I had a pita chip misstep last Monday), I feel so much better that it’s a little embarrassing. I mean… it was that easy? I don’t want to be perceived as a picky eater/food fusser/dietary evangelizer, so I won’t talk much about what I’m not eating here. I will say I’m going to miss eating certain stuff, but it’s also awesome to feel awesome, and as it turns out… there are plenty of other things to eat. I think it’s more of a mindset than anything else, especially in terms of getting past convenience food and understanding one’s body’s signals regarding hunger, etc. So. There’s that.

2. A Momentous Event is happening this weekend. Common Ground - the humble little food co-op that, in 2005, gave me my start into the world of Working for Something You Believe In and Getting Paid For It, Even - has relocated and expanded and will be opening to the membership on Friday, with its doors swinging open to the public for the very first time on Saturday morning at 8 AM. OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS.

I have a lot of feelings surrounding this. Back in early 2005, right after we bought 909 (our current residence), Jeanne the Now-Texan and Then-Board Member encouraged me to apply for that Outreach Coordinator job at the co-op. I was hired, and that job paved the way for some major life changes (without it, or her, I wouldn’t be doing what I’m doing today, I have no doubt) for me. But the job was hard sometimes, the co-op was struggling with getting from mere daydreaming to structured visioning to actual brick and mortar situation, etc. I left the job in mid-2006, but remained involved by joining the Board of Directors, and buckled in for a bumpy ride. Less than two years ago it seemed like things might have run their course and come to a not-so-happy ending, but in February of this year we found our future home (that’s Cody mopping - he now has a real job at Common Ground), and thanks to some fundraising derring-do, membership generosity, Board dedication, and management/staff tenacity and genius:

From this…

To this…

… in six months, y’all, when there were times we weren’t sure it was going to happen. And that last photo, taken August 16, looks NOTHING like what the store looks like today, which will look nothing like what the store will look like Friday at 5, when the doors are opened to members. Check out the custom-built checkout counter!

This is what true investment and buy-in - by a group of people - into a concept can do, even when the answer is often “no”, or the comment is “you guys must be crazy” (we heard both a lot). Yeah, I’m maudlin. What of it?

3. Uh. I’ve run out of steam. So, quickly:

a) Remember that awesome outdoor dinner I went to back in July at Prairie Fruits Farm and Creamery? They’re doing several more through October, and you can reserve your space at any of them online;

b) U of I students return in force on Thursday and I shamefully have not yet purchased a single school supply or article of clothing for either of my offspring and school starts a week from today;

c) the Le Creuset set from August 5 was gone by the time we had the cash to purchase it - oh well;

d) Art Mart is pulling, IMO, the best espresso shots in town right now, not to mention carrying select owly bits;

e) drinking wine with good friends under a full moon until 2 AM every so often is worth the revenge it exacts.

Next entry: an interview with the young author responsible for this:

It was quiet in space. The shuttlecraft was still. Berry lifted her hands carefully off of her ears. “Ocea? Destiny?” she said to her team. “Anything broken? Everyone alive?” Juniper sighed with relief, putting her arm around her sister’s shoulders. “Anyone else been in space before?” she asked. There was complete silence and Juniper moaned inwardly. Great. Berry and I are in charge - again. “OK, girls,” she said decisively, “it’s patrol time.”

Well, lately I’ve been frequenting Memory Lane:

These guys were all seen as totally retro, and not in a respectful way, in 1991. While a few in the scene I inhabited in MPLS back then turned up their noses at KQ92 fare such as Yes and Steve Winwood, I was never one to turn down a free ticket, and I was certainly not about to turn down seeing, live, some of the artists I grew up listening to. I attended the Yes show with my friend Dave whilst in the throes of relationship drama, and I attended Steve Winwood with my dad shortly before I made my final decision to leave MPLS for good (due, in large part, to aforementioned relationship drama). Both shows were, of course, incredible.

[It reminds me, a little, of the time years later I saw a fan club only Pearl Jam show on the South Side of CHGO. (1993? 1994?) I took a coworker who was having THE BEST TIME (as was I) and then, during post-show drinks at Ye Olde Hipster Barre he COMPLETELY and TOTALLY denigrated the evening we had just had. I think CHGO was really much more hipper-than-thou, actually, than MPLS.]

I haven’t been alone whilst ambling down Memory Lane. My dear friend LAP, with whom I was just about to form a posse when I up and left MPLS has, thanks to the Facebook thing, re-entered my life. Even after losing touch for 16 years (how embarrassing), we appear to have led somewhat parallel existences:

She was, as it turns out, exactly right about the D&G Fall 1996 collection (lower right). While I will always remain a devotee of Tom Ford’s collection for Gucci the Fall before, there was something about 1996 (Gucci, Cerruti, Calvin Klein) that wasn’t as louche, a little more severe, that I find totally appealing to this day. Come on, fashion people - bring it back.

At any rate, having LAP back in my life, skipping arm in arm down Memory Lane, hasn’t been an exercise in living in the past as much as it’s been a lesson in context and Getting On With It. I mean, 40 looms. Let’s ALL do - do a zine, do a podcast, blog, collaborate over great distance, write letters, romanticize the past, feel wrenching sadness because we weren’t there when we should have been, plot the future, design a life - there’s more to all of this than a nagging sense of futility and being chained to a version of the past.

So, yeah, that’s one of the other places I’ve been.

10. Monster Magnet, Spine of God (1992) I used to work at a wee little indie record store in CHGO called Blackout!Records - I was there from spring 1992, pregnant with Cody, until sometime in 1995 or maybe even 1996. This record came out in the US while I was pregnant, working at the store and unable to decide between twee pop and dirty rock music and alt.country and le grunge (why I thought I had to choose is a mystery), and generally all kinds of pissed off, so I loved it. All the drug references - so forbidden! The stoner groove - so hypnotic! Bombast! Feedback! Psychedelia! References to Yes’ Fragile album! Oh, it made me feel feelings. I felt feelings around this record even more after having Cody and after the Big Breakup when he was 6 months old - 1993, the year I fondly refer to as the nadir of my existence, had been ushered in, and I fancied myself a little bit of a badass. Monster Magnet had another record, Superjudge, come out in 1993 (more about that one further into the project), and while it sounded major-label great and carried some of the angry stoner vibe that I had grown to love, there were so many other records out that year. Plus, you know, DISTRACTIONS. [ETA: I just remembered - I interviewed Monster Magnet main dude Dave Wyndorf in 1993. He was in a phone booth in Milwaukee, WI, and I was at the CAKE magazine office in MPLS on a little 1993-style jaunt (said jaunt may have involved Chank, driving all night, and hanging out at a Posies show at First Avenue, but I can’t remember for sure and my journals are out in the garage). It was a good interview, but just the fact that the whole band were huge fans of Mule has stayed with me for 18 years.] ################## Lilly hates losing teeth. The last week has been an ordeal… but the tooth! Is! Finally! Out!

[Has anyone else been having trouble with Gmail - both mail and chat functions? It’s been very unreliable for me since Saturday.] I go to the gym every day now except Saturdays. While it’s doing good things for my body (better endurance, better muscle tone) and better things for my psyche (there’s a lot of discipline involved in making oneself get up at 5:50 AM when it’s two degrees outside), it’s doing fantastic things for my brain chemistry. I’m calmer and better able to handle what gets thrown at me every day. Here’s Workout Playlist Three:





Lugengeschichte/Telstar Ponies Love Removal Machine (Peace Remix)/The Cult Nicky’s Sister/Flour Silence, Sea, and Sky/The Chameleons Great Release/LCD Soundsystem Policy Of Truth/Depeche Mode What Is Life/Black Uhuru Tomorrow Started/Talk Talk (London 1986) Search And Destroy/The Stooges So Far/The Soundtrack Of Our Lives Dub Fi Gwan/King Tubby Kitchie Kitchie Ki Me-O/My Midnight Creeps Entirely Made Of Wood/Love Cup The Bottle/Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson Hot Stenographer/Kinski Dream Police/Elope Black Man Land/Prince Far I Mr.Untitled/Union Carbide Productions High Expectation/Stereolab Bury Me/Smashing Pumpkins





[Music has taken such a back seat to events of the last year and a half. I can’t believe it, really, since it was my first love. Every man I ever dated, practically, was involved with music in some way (present man included). I worked in music, wrote about music, interviewed musicians, traveled with them, ran record stores, sold music to record stores, discovered talent and promoted it. I lived and breathed it, the industry, the three chords and the flats and sharps, the destroyed drum kits and the production decisions. I was there when…. When I’m on the treadmill (the treadmill! I sometimes still can’t believe it’s come to this, god) hearing the Smashing Pumpkins, it’s impossible NOT to feel very Chicago in 1991; when I hear Telstar Ponies, it’s impossible NOT to become the me I was in Chicago in 1995, embarking upon the most important relationship of my life with their music as a backdrop (it remains a favorite of ours today). I’m sure I look crazy on the cardio machines at the gym, my face constantly changing with the shuffling of the songs on the iPod.]





The last few weeks have been a trial; I’d like for work stuff to not be such a driver for me emotionally, but I struggle. I’m very sensitive to the vibes, and while I don’t usually let it bother me, when things reach critical mass it can really suck.





So I’m working on it. I’m looking forward to starting my seeds in late February. There’s some sunshine and warmth in my not-too-distant future, too. My little house is warm and relatively clean (Three cats. Enough said). The kids are healthy and happy and thinking for themselves in spite of their daily environment - she writes, he photographs. Jim and I have arrived at that place people always told us about where we can have dinner together alone while the kids are off doing other things; we’re talking more and working together and are in a period of deep closeness right now, having to do both with my improved mental state and our improved communication. Note to self: keep communicating with that guy.





Now playing: U2, Mysterious Ways ETA: I wonder when those first two Smashing Pumpkins records will be remastered so they sound like they did when I first heard them - big, expansive, etc. Maybe I’m just going deaf.

I ran across this photo a few weeks ago, when I was having a marathon nostalgia-fest that incapacitated me for an entire weekend. The gentleman who took the photo, Marty Perez, shot the best photos of bands, with some of his most awesome work happening in black & white. I know he’s still in Chicago and he’s still working… Marty, if yr out there, why don’t you have a website? Seriously - he’s taken some great pictures over the years, documenting many incarnations of The Scene in Seattle and Chicago. I think I might even have one that he took of me and a friend at Grant Park’s 4th of July in 1993 - the Jayhawks, Matthew Sweet, and Belly played that day. I can’t afford another nostalgia-fest right now, so digging will have to happen another time… This Perez original is from August 1997. The band is the Minus Five - from left to right you have Jim Talstra (of many bands), Ken Stringfellow (also of the Posies and several other bands), Scott McCaughey (also of Young Fresh Fellows… and several other bands), and Jason Finn (who I do believe was in Love Battery once upon a time and maybe is even the Presidents of the United States of America, if I’m thinking of the right guy). They’re standing in the basement/”backstage” area of Lounge Ax after some sort of flooding situation had occurred. Oh, yes, that glamourous rock n roll life. Back in the real world: Tomatoes are what I’ll be focusing on in about a week. Meantime - Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

You’d never know it from the photo above, but these two cats don’t like each other at all. There’s a lot of backstory and family humor where these two - OJ and Mr. Teacups - are involved, but I’ll spare you. ****** Yesterday’s snow day was fun, but today’s - which was called for yesterday afternoon - seems excessive; Mother Nature’s timing on this one, in my opinion, is terrible. But… this is the first Minnesota-like snowfall I’ve seen since arriving in Illinois in July 1991. I spotted a snowmobile track in some fields out in the country last week - we’d had 5″ of snow the week before - and I grinned my recognition right out the window. I’ve been in Illinois for almost 16 years, which is almost twice what I spent in Minnesota, but I think I’m still a MN girl, deep down. [January 1991, MPLS, stands out in my memory. I have a vivid recollection of being at the CC Club with my friend Lisa on a crazy cold and snowy January afternoon, Soul Asylum on the jukebox and footage of assembling troops on the TV, cigarette after cigarette being smoked and extinguished and beer after beer being finished. That same week I think there was a huge blizzard; Lisa and I walked in the snow to a liquor store, bought a case of beer, and carried it back between us in the knee-deep snow. We stopped at the Uptown (which was around the corner from my apartment and thus my neighborhood bar) to see if anyone was around. We knew something had happened when we walked in - laughing, covered with snow, hands surely frostbitten - and the lights were on, no music playing, silence reigning over the 15 or so souls gathered there. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the television above the bar; the invasion had begun. The bar remained silent. We trudged back to my place in the snow, the case of beer between us. I’m pretty sure we drank most of it that night. After that, watching the war on TV at a guy named Michael’s house became a post-bar activity.] February is a difficult month. I find myself anxiously awaiting March, with its seedlings under lights, its random 60-degree days, its spring cleaning, and its freak thunderstorms. ****** I leave you with one of my most favorite thrifting finds. Actually, I think I found them at a yard sale a couple of months ago: I think it’s time to get out of my jammies.

Occasionally, I get glimpses into the possible future, little flashes of what I think things will be like years from now based on current events. I’m almost always wrong, which is a relief. Raising a 14 year-old boy and an 8 year-old girl, neither of whom fit very well into the roles their school culture expects of them, is a confounding experience. My daughter just wants to be seen as a regular kid, not the go-to gal when an answer or fact is needed. My son wants to encourage his fellow students into more activism (particularly anti-war activism), something his school frowns upon. We have both their backs, obviously, but it is damned difficult to see them so disappointed in this “real world” everyone keeps telling them they’re going to have to learn to live in. We put them back in school, so there’s some guilt there, but the disappointment was going to happen eventually. I also feel their pain in another way - I was a hybrid of the two of them when I was a kid. I was there, yes, but I was there in the 70s and 80s, before technological distractions outnumbered analog things to do, back when people looked forward to the Super Bowl, not its commercials, and when we had to walk to school uphill both ways in five feet of snow [shakes fist at sky]. I wouldn’t want to be a kid today, no way, but I’m kinda there anyway; we have to help the kids navigate this “real world” and walk that tightrope - we, as parents, want to remain relevant and interesting and friendly, but we need to be adults, authority figures worthy of respect, role models. Role models! Man. Wow. Damn. ****** The internet helped me find an old friend a couple of days ago. I met Steve when I was working at Blackout!Records in Chicago (on Southport next to the Music Box Theatre) back in, oh, 1992 (?) or so. [It might have been 1993. I need to unearth the journals.] He was living and working in CHGO, having moved out from the West Coast; he and his girlfriend were often in the record store, and we got to be friends. He knew everyone in the Seattle scene, so when the bands came through he was always there - watchful, quiet, obviously having history with these people. [I have one v memorable anecdote stemming from this period of time, and Steve figures in it, but my timeline’s off, and as soon as I have that figured out, I’ll write about it.] Anyway. Steve’s an artist and back out West, married and, as far as I can tell, a success. The internet can be a wonderful thing, especially when the people you find are happy to hear from you. Have a look at his blog here. ****** Lilly was reading in bed. She had these guys set up just so.

Photo is of Lilly, taken and edited by Cody. Datestamp: 2006. The kids were down with versions of the flu last week. O, Influenza, with your days-long fevers and horrible-sounding coughs! I despise you and what you do to my children! They missed five days of school between them, which just made me glad that Jim and I have enough flexibility at our jobs to be able to manage such things without worrying about getting in trouble or not getting paid or whatever. Longtime readers know that this has not always been the case with us (hell, school hasn’t always been the case with us, either, but when I was working part-time and they were homeschooled, it was not good at all if I missed even an hour of scheduled work. I hated when my little precarious work/money/kids balance got all upset, which it occasionally did, but we seemed to manage our way through). At any rate, they’re fine now, more or less. If I could find the cord that attaches my camera to my computer, I’d post a few photos from the antiwar protest Cody organized with a friend of his last weekend. He was all over the teevee, granting interviews and sounding coherent and not in the least ruffled. I am occasionally interviewed in my line of work, and it flummoxes me (sometimes to the point of near-incoherence -you should have seen me trying to shoot a 30-second spot last November. It wasn’t even live. I think we got what we needed after I kept the bumbling to a minimum on the 9th or 10th take), so I was especially psyched to see him carry himself so well. Of course, after all that protestin’ in the 15 degree windchill, he had to take to his chambers for the rest of the weekend. At least he wore a hat while he was outside. Apparently there is some sort of Blogosphere Hubub over someone on the teevee’s disapproval of Mothers Who Ingest Alcohol While Socializing In View Of Their Kids. It appears the situation involves playdates involving kids, right, and while the kids play under the watchful eyes of all the assembled mothers, the mothers hang out, dish the dish, and have a drink or two if they’re so inclined. I can’t find a link, but I think it was on NBC this past week and it involved someone named Meredith Viera and someone named Melissa from a blog called Suburban Bliss and, oh, a psychologist. I won’t bore you with how silly I think Ms. Viera is (I don’t even know who she is); I’ll spare you stories about my own alcohol consumption while hanging out with other adults and various, assorted children. I’ll even forgo lengthy statements about fathers who drink in full view of their children and seem to escape criticism (like my own dad and his few beers while watching Twins games on Sundays, my mother nowhere in evidence to SAVE US FROM HIM!!!!). I guess I’m just perplexed about why this is a big deal all of a sudden. This is new, this Mommies Drinking thing? Uh - raise your hands if you were raised in the 70s! Right! OK! I suppose that, back in The Day, I was probably being judged behind my back for my HARD-ROCKIN’ LIFESTYLE*, but no one ever gave me shit for having a beer at a picnic when Cody was a little kid. And if they had? I would have drawn myself up to my (considerable) full height, platinum blonde hair and red lipstick (it was 1994!) in full effect, and told the offender to EFF RIGHT THE EFF OFF. Other parents have happily accepted the glasses of wine I offer when we have them and their kids over for dinner, and when I have a party? We invite everyone, their kids, and tell ‘em to BYOB. Seriously - I’ve never felt judged for this! Am I running around in the wrong circles? See, this is why I just don’t bother with the teevee, and especially the mainstream networks. They’re always on the lookout for scapegoats, and the mass media loves to pick on women, particularly mothers. FUCK THE HATERS, man… and bottoms up! So, I’m not really writing much. I’m taking photos, but can’t really, you know, do anything with them. I’m knitting this… thing. I think it’ll be cool - I’m hoping to have it done for Meghan the Glassblower’s wedding in May. [I knit in the evenings, kids stowed away in their rooms for the night, with a few dark chocolate almonds and a HUGE-ASS GLASS OF WINE at the ready. Jim’s next to me on the couch; we watch LOTS OF VIOLENCE (24) on DVD. I’m looking for a new series; violence is optional.] I need to get some seeds for starting at the end of the month, but I am oddly uninspired right now. I’ll place a small order in a week or so, and then do a larger one in March or April. Johnossi is playing at SXSW next month. Supposedly they just slay live. I’m trying to figure out how Jim and I can sneak down to Austin for a couple of days. I doubt it’ll happen. This momentous event is taking place at the same time as a conference in Baltimore that, while work wouldn’t pay for the conference or travel, work would not dock me for time off were I to attend. It is very likely that I’ll just stay right here, because sometimes inertia just takes over (hahaha), but one never knows. I really want to see Johnossi. I really want to do Farm Bill 2007 work. And a large part of me would really like to do nothing, because I could really use the sleep. But… yes. I’m still here. It’s still, here. I feel like I’m hibernating. *When Cody was very small, I was living in Chicago and working in the music business. His father lived there too, so we split the week in half in terms of taking care of the little guy. My nights without Cody were mostly spent going to rock shows because, you know, it was part of my job AND my kid was with his father. WITHOUT FAIL, EVERY SINGLE TIME, someone would ask me where Cody was. It could be 3 AM at the Blue Note on Armitage after the Stereolab show and I’d be hanging out with so-and-so, and invariably, someone would stop by the table and say, “Where’s Cody?” I finally would just feign horror and gasp, “Omigod! I left him in the cab!”

Happiest of New Years to everyone. I wish you positive reflections on 2006 and a prosperous 2007. For me, 2006 was a hell of a year, and the first half was completely tricky. My closest friend moved far away; I decided to start looking for a full-time job; I was unexpectedly hired for the first job I went for (and it was, well, kind of a dream job for me - sometimes I still can’t believe it); I went back to work full-time, thus deciding my youngest would enter school (unthinkable a couple of years ago); everything I thought I’d have the summer for… didn’t get done, because I, uh, didn’t have the summer. It was during the second half of the year that I was able to start making the adjustment to working full-time, to having my family be more responsible for itself, to knowing that Jim had suddenly become the more primary of our dual-primary parenting scheme, to accepting that everything I had begun before getting The Job might not get finished the way I’d envisioned, to understanding that my chronic pain problems - while nebulous in nature and difficult to care for, weren’t going to go away just because I was ignoring them… or complaining about them incessantly. Nope. On this, the last day of the year, I can say that I’m still adjusting and some things are still really difficult for me (I miss cooking, dammit! And I still cannot believe I lost my entire seed collection!), but 7 successful months at The Job under my belt have given me confidence in many areas. Lots of plans for this new calendar year chez B-K. How about you?