The eve of the eve of new year's eve.

On the way to Mr. O's, we stopped into a liquor store where a scene from the Grand Film took place:

Vlindinhauer: (approaches counter majestically and pauses) I don't know... there's something about red wine at noon...
The only person in the room who is not a member of the Now Today Ensemble - a man waiting at the counter for a clerk to appear - gives Vlindinhauer a bemused look.

~~~~~~~

The team gathered together to perform this year's song, which in case you haven't heard, is You can't kill rock and roll.

The players:
Number Six ~ lead vocal
Mr. M ~ lead vocal
Vlindinhauer ~ bass and voice
Mr. O ~ guitar
Mr. Why ~ guitar
Mr. G ~ guitar
Sabitathica ~ guitar
L ~ thereminator

The setlist:
You can't kill rock & roll
You can't kill rock & roll
You can't kill rock & roll
You can't kill rock & roll
You can't kill rock & roll
You can't kill rock & roll
You can't kill rock & roll
You can't kill rock & roll
You can't kill rock & roll

Some strange behavior, some nice music.

Transitive closure

From Bob's Famous Muffin Shop we drove to the theater to see Up in the air. L was the youngest person in the theater, I was the second youngest. The 80-something year old woman in the front row was the third youngest. And there were probably fifty more people in the theater. Geriatric queasiness aside, I'm not sure how much I enjoyed the film. The trailer hinted at beautiful cinematography, but there wasn't much of that beyond the opening credits.

~~~~~~~

A very pleasant dinner with family. The oversight with L's stocking was righted. All is well.

~~~~~~~

I began and soon ceased reading The Doomsday Book, which is a tedious and terrible piece of writing.

I hereby invent the word "quit-lit" to denote any book which must not be read to completion. I will be bringing it back to the Nunnery so I might hurl it into a fireplace for use as kindling. Boring, tedious kindling.

~~~~~~~

Hopefully this coming decade will see all the baseball players who were banished from the MLB for using performance-enhancing drugs organize their own league where such drugs are not only permissible, they are mandatory.

This will be Mutant League Baseball and will hopefully be played inside large cages. No more home-runs. No more ground-rule doubles. No more players under eleven-feet tall. Hopefully other sports will follow suit, thereby becoming somewhat less boring.

The path toward Super-humanity will be forged, at least physically, by Earth's athletes. I say remove the shackles and let them forge.

Boxing day

Brunch at Bob's Muffin Shop, which has been one of the ongoing pleasures of this visit.

~~~~~~~

To Borders with the wonderniece - another tradition of the season, and one of my favorites. This year's theme was Twilight. T-shirts, games, chocolate, you name it. Good times.

~~~~~~~

A spirited session with the Now Today Ensemble.

The players:
Number Six ~ lead vocal
Mr. M ~ lead vocal
Vlindinhauer ~ bass and vocal
Persephone ~ percussives
Mr. Why ~ guitar & keyboard
Sabitathica ~ guitar
L ~ thereminator

The set list:
* You can't kill rock and roll
* You can't kill rock and roll
* You can't kill rock and roll
* Free four
* Free four
* Fearless (complete with the interpolation of You'll never walk alone and crowd noises)
* You can't kill rock and roll
* Intermission, during which Persephone's famous hummingbird cake made its glorious appearance. Some of the players then took a brief walk down to the sea.
* You can't kill rock and roll
* Improvisation
* You can't kill rock and roll
* Little drummer boy
* You can't kill rock and roll
* You can't kill rock and roll
* You can't kill rock and roll

Sadly, one of the final versions of You can't kill rock and roll was not recorded. The completists in the audience may now curse fate.

Also not recorded was Fearless, which I do feel is a loss.

Christmas day

The 2000th anniversary of the 10th birthday of Jesus of Nazareth. I find it easy to picture him as a pretty cool little kid.

Lots of good times, especially for the wonderniece. An oversight left L with no stocking on Christmas morning.

For some reason Christmas dinner with family tasted even better than usual this year.

~~~~~~~

Yet another tradition: the Christmas Night Pub-crawl with Sabitathica and Number Six. The team was upgraded by one this year with the addition of L.

We three crusaders made a dark pilgrimage to Quincy - city of my birth - that we might slake our thirsts with a stout and hearty brew.

With no provisions but our open faces we set our shoulders against the wind and journeyed forth until we sighted at last a little tavern set high on a hill and through a window espied a lantern lit to guide our footsteps. Unfortunately the inn was overflowing with creeps and scoundrels, the most wretched hive of scum and villainy this side of Rockland.

Dig if you will this picture: there was no music playing on the saloon's sound-system. The sunken eyes of the patrons were glued weakly to grey television boxes, where a staggeringly boring game of sport was being played with resignation by feeble professionals, heartless and empty. No one spoke. No one laughed. No one smiled.

Outside these walls it was Christmas night; inside we were witness to some doom too grim to speak its name. We never learned what wretched spell had been a'cast over those lost souls, but its name must taste foul on the lips of decent men. We drank our beers and left.

~~~~~~~

Sitting in that depressing place, Number Six and I devised a simple plan which, try as we might, we couldn't think of a reason not to set in motion:

1. book a gig at a cantina for the upcoming holiday season, either on Christmas night or during Now Today Week;
2. show up and play some music.

Number Six favors a version of this plan which omits step 1.

Christmas eve

L arrived this morning. The place I took her for breakfast no longer exists, so we went to Borders instead.

The calendar has its patterns; the holiday season even more so.

One of my most-looked-forward-to events of the year is the Christmas Eve Good Times Celebration at the Ale House with Vlindinhauer, Persephone, and Janice. This year L was in attendance as well. Janice expressed disappointment that L has not yet seen all of Chinatown (the film, not the place). Also for some reason there was talk of torturing cats, but besides that I think everything went pretty well.

If only every night could be Christmas Eve...

Also, the long-standing Christmas Eve tradition of Chinese dinner with family almost happened.

To this end...

A quiet day. Tapas in the evening with Mr. O, where we swapped stories from when we were in the war together.

My external hard-drive was damaged in the travel between Bedlam and Boston. A few days ago, and with the approval of Grumpy Number Six who knows about such things, I got a new and improved one. Fortunately I was able to pull the data off the old one without too much trouble.

Catching up with my sister brings me great joy and is one of my favorite parts of the holiday season.

Completed The left hand of darkness by Ursula K. LeGuin.

Who was broken by trained personnel.

A shared meal, some good times, and a session of You can't kill rock & roll with Vlindinhauer earlier, the Zoom working beautifully. The music began tentative and sweet, evolving soon to become bolder, hinting at hegemony. Good times.

I've set myself to play slide in open G tuning this visit, something I'm unfamiliar with.

The set list:
* You can't kill rock and roll
* You can't kill rock and roll
* You can't kill rock and roll
* You can't kill rock and roll
* You can't kill rock and roll
* You can't kill rock and roll
* You can't kill rock and roll

For a rest we listened to live Pink Floyd: You've got to be crazy and Raving and drooling.

~~~~~~~

Dinner with family tonight: mother, father, sister, wonderniece. The food was almost Chinese, but actually Italian.

'Tis better to give than to receive.

L gave me a Zoom H4n for Christmas. It arrived yesterday and we're getting to know each other. I love it. This will have many real-world applications -- and soon, if the Now Today Players can take time enough away from their various research projects to joyously perform a version or two of You Can't Kill Rock & Roll. Hooray!

It's possible I misunderstood something, but I think L said she didn't want anything for Christmas. Forever searching out new ways to nurture our relationship, I have chosen to respect her wishes and not get her anything. Her reaction to this surprises me whenever I mention it to her.

Travel day II: I miss the earth so much. I miss my wife.

Flying is a horrible, nightmarish experience. Today was completely terrifying. Less turbulence than I'd been dreading, but with more than enough cattle-like claustrophobia to go around.

When our ancestors, with their quaint naivete, dreamt of flight, they probably did not conjure images of hundreds of humans arranged like sardines, inhaling each others' plaque, climbing over one another to queue for bathrooms built like carbon-freezing torture chambers. To say nothing of the extroverts! for god's sake... I pray that history will one day get off it's lazy ass and set about remembering Orville and Wilbur Wright as corrupt villains and the sources of untold misery and suffering.

This is true. I sat on the aisle next to two soldiers in civilian clothing, one American, one Italian. They talked shop the whole flight. My favorite line from the American, delivered during an exchange of opinion concerning whether one sports team was or was not better than another sports team: I don't watch sports. Do I look like I watch sports? I'm not a sports person. I'm a killer. Verbatim.

Travel day I: Bedlam to Boston

The airport. I was at my gate ungodly early this morning when a strange woman appeared at my side, mumbling to herself about how she needed a pen.

Strange Woman: Ugh, I don't have a pen...
Sabitathica: (ignores her)
Strange Woman: Ah, I really need to write this down. I'm not gonna remember.
Sabitathica: (ignores her)
Strange Woman: Shit.
Sabitathica: (Sighs. Wordlessly produces pen from an inside pocket of his sportsjacket. Hands it to the strange woman.)
Strange Woman: (looks directly at Sabitathica) You're good.
Sabitathica: (looking away) uh huh.
Strange Woman: (long pause) I've been following you.
Sabitathica: I beg your pardon?
Strange Woman: Since the check-in line. I was standing behind you. I followed you here.
Sabitathica: (begins mentally evaluating exit strategies.)
Strange Woman: I was behind you the whole way...
Sabitathica: I see.
Strange Woman: from the check-in.
Sabitathica: Mmm.
Strange Woman: so, where are you going?
Sabitathica: I'm going over there to sit down... alone.

We all make mistakes. This strange woman was probably a gentle and virtuous creature, just a little bit spazzy. But I note that if roles were reversed and I somehow came to tell a woman I didn't know that I had followed her to her gate, I would have been branded a creep, and justly so. But, we all make mistakes.

The Holiday Season

Christmas at the Nunnery:


The Tree, which we ourselves felled on one of our visits to the mysterious Candy Mountain, beyond the licorice forest:


But wait! What's that hanging from the mantle? Poking out of L's stocking? Is it...?


It is! It's the pigeon who wants to stay up late!


I love that guy. How'd he get in there?

~~~~~~~

Photo received from L tonight: Shadow, the neighborhood cat, asleep on our bed.

One day i will rule Candyland with an iron fist

My neck got all fucked up, so I saw the chiropractor on Tuesday.

Sabitathica: Why do you think this happened to my neck?
Amnemonic Chiropractor: Well, there may be specific reasons, but ultimately, you know, up until about 10,000 years ago we all used to be hunter-gatherers. That's what our bodies were designed for, only now we don't do that anymore.
Sabitathica: I ... what are you talking about?

So I've decided I'm going to take up hunting. Or gathering, I'm not sure which. One of the two, but not both - my life is pretty busy and I don't want to adopt too many new activities/subsistence methods at once. But I'm leaning towards gathering, even though it doesn't sound as badass as hunting, because I've actually gathered stuff before, and I'm pretty familiar with what's involved.

~~~~~~~

Dinnerparty last night with Tracie, who was quite ill. She prepared lamb and fruit tart for dessert, L prepared the side dishes. An aperitif of Absinthe was followed by eggnog+Frangelico. Tim almost joined us, but the evening devolved and went in a different direction. He'll have to pick up his Sabitathica coasters next time...

Bring me the head of Vlindinhauer Haverhast!

The Sabitathiblog Songwriting and Decapitation Department cordially invites you to:

The beheading of Vlindinhauer Haverhast: the musical!

Treat yourself to this holiday season's blockbuster smash hit! Bring the whole family! Christmas never felt so right! The critics agree!

~~~~~~~

"This song will make your home planet explode" -- Jor El

"We think it's purrrfect!" -- The Ragdoll Kitten Groupies

"I authorize this music" -- King Friday

~~~~~~~

Sabitathica: Bring me the head of Vlindinhauer Haverhast

L: voice and verse lyrics
Tracie: layered violas
Sabitathica: voice and music
Brought to you by Saint in Shadow Records 2009

The Sabitathiblog Black Ops Division extends in advance its friendship and fealty to anyone able to successfully create a music video to this song depicting the actual kidnapping and guillotining of Vlindinhauer Haverhast.

All proceeds go to the non-profit Gallows Pole Foundation.

Peace unto all.

My head kissed the ground

Yesterday marked Sabitathica's twelve-year anniversary volunteering for the Bedlam State Sanatorium for the Musically Inclined.

Mark visited after sundown and he, L, and I observed this solemn occasion with a celebration of Absinthe. A dinnerparty followed, and then a group field-trip to see The Road at the Tara. Good times.

As promised, the result of the collaboration between Number Six and myself

Do not be disturbed.

The beauty you are about to experience is not lethal and falls (marginally) within the USRDA guidelines for psychotropic bliss. Please remain seated or supine after pressing play and remain so for the duration of the listening experience. Do not attempt to operate any heavy machinery until the music has come to a complete stop.

~~~~~~~

Sabitathica & Number Six: The Satyrical Way

Number Six: psychedelic words, voice
Sabitathica: guitars, strings