Snow

A couple of hours ago I watched a truly amazing site: Large, fluffy snowflakes drifted lazily from the clouds, forming sheets of hazy white that somehow never touched the ground. I'm not talking tiny little droplets of almost sleet here people. I'm talking thick, fluffy little cotton swabs of snow. They ambled slowly towards the ground, and I say towards because they never actually touched the ground. They just approached the earth and then quietly winked into another dimension.

Now, it wasn't because the ground was arm and the snow was evaporating as it touched down. It was cold, as cold as you could really expect Texas to be. But this snow, acknowledging the very fact that blankets of snow and East Texas do not mix, simply refused to land.

The temperature was somewhere around freezing, but as I watched this a customer wanders into the store dressed in shorts and a short sleeved, white t-shirt.
"You're not exactly dressed for the weather," I tell him.
"Aw, this is Texas," he replies. "It won't be like this for long."

And I had to admit, he was absolutely right. Even the snow knew that.

The World Series

Thankfully, the Phillies made the World Series at least somewhat interesting.

Just so you know, I am a pretty big fan of baseball. I love all things Americana and Baseball parallels and in some ways epitomizes our history. I love the leisurely pace, I love the push and pull drama of pitcher versus batter, I love the idiosyncrasies of the different parks. It is, in fact, one of the few things I love about summer. But I especially love baseball in the fall.

The World Series is one of my year's highlights. The weather is turning cooler and you can feel the excitement of the playoff atmosphere radiate from every corner of the parks. Even better, this year's match up features two teams that I like.

I realize it is more fashionable to hate the Yankees. I am fully aware of the way they have exploited baseball's financial inequities to their advantage. I empathize completely with teams like the Royals or the Pirates that are forced to compete in what is essentially an unfair playing field. However, all this being said, I still think the Yankees, with their rich history, are still good for the sport. You need the powerhouse teams to love and you need them to hate.

I haven't actually liked the Yankees these past few years, though. I loved the Paul O'Neill/Tino Martinez/Bernie Williams era and lost a lot of interest when they were replaced by players such as Gary Sheffield and Randy Johnson. That's another story, however. Suffice to say that the current version of the Yankees, although still nowhere near my favorites, is still a decent lineup that actually resembles a team rather than just a collection of high priced stars. I take a lot of ridiculing from my friends for being a fan of Derek Jeter, but I think he plays the game with a great deal of class - something that is very important to me.

I like the Phillies too. This is mostly because most of them were on my fantasy baseball team for the last few years and they helped me win take first place in four of the last five. Plus, I tend to like the older, storied franchises and the Phillies certainly fit that bill.

So with the Phillies facing the new/old look Yankees, this should be the greatest World Series in a long time, right? Well, oddly enough, I haven't enjoyed this one as much as the other series. Mostly this is because I'm not really rooting for either of these teams. I'm okay with either one winning. This takes a lot of the passion out of watching for me. Instead of being involved and biting my nails when my team is behind, or cheering when they score, I'm sitting back, somewhat detached and simply hoping it will be a good all around series. After the Yankees went up three games to one, it looked like it wasn't even going to be that.

But the Phillies won last night, which salvaged the series and gave baseball fans hope that there might be some drama left in it after all. I finally have a team to root for, at least for game six. I want the Phillies to win and push this to a seventh game. If that turns out to be the case, I may go back to my uninvolved bystander status. but at least for the next game, I have a vested interest.

Go Phillies!

Austin Record Show

I spent this past weekend at the Austin Record Show. It's held twice a year and is reportedly the largest show of recorded music in the world. While that statement might very likely be true, it could give you the impression that the show is larger than it is. In reality, it is feels much like a flea market, albeit one that has tons of vinyl albums, CDs and other music related ephemera.

It is also one of the highlights of my year.

Some people go fishing. Some go camping or skiing. Hell, some people even go on vacations. My family, however, goes "Nerd Shopping." This most often involves spending the day at a comic book convention or perhaps trudging through countless Half Price Books, looking for items that no one else seems to want, but we view as treasures.

I've blogged before about the appeal of vinyl. Nearly three decades ago I discovered CDs and couldn't wait to get rid of all my vinyl. But as time passed, I began to miss the larger album covers and all the processes that went with playing a vinyl album. Plus, there were all sorts of great albums that I loved that had not made the conversion to the digital age. So a number of years ago, I purchased a turntable and started haunting places where discarded albums generally turned up.

Then, much to my disappointment, vinyl became hip. Suddenly there were people much trendier than I scouring through those same bargain bins. Record labels started releasing some new albums in vinyl editions. I find all of this a bit ironic, as downloading and digital storage of music is doing its best to make physical media a thing of the past, and yet many fans are returning to a format that was declared dead before most of them were born.

There's no denying the convenience of the internet and fast availability of music downloads. No that genie is out of the bottle, it's never going away. But there are also peripheral pleasures associated with our passions; things like ripping open a pack of baseball cards and finding that elusive favorite player.

Finally locating the clear vinyl first British pressing of Force Majure is one of those. Time too mark another goal off of my list.

Spidey Goes to Disneyworld

All of my nerdy friends (and let's face it - that'd be pretty much all of them) are upset over Disney's recent purchase of the Marvel Comics empire.

While I'm not wild about the implications, I'm not nearly as surprised by this move as some people seem to be. In recent years, Marvel has patterned itself pretty openly after Disney's model. Both companies have long been more concerned about keeping their properties marketable than telling good stories. That's not to say that their books and movies are never entertaining, many of them are. But it is almost a happy coincidence when that happens; a means to an end rather than the ultimate goal.

I've heard all the rants about large conglomerates being anathema to the making of art. I think too many fans want to view the characters and stories they love as something sacred, as "Art" with a capital "A". As if the people who hold the copyrights to those characters are mearly acting in the public trust. But large media conglomerates exist to sell product, and as fans we are merely consumers of that product, nothing more. Some conglomerates see the music or stories their artists produce as their product. Marvel doesn't. Marvel sees the iconic characters themselves as the product. The comics they produce on a monthly basis are simply a tool to keep these characters fresh and viable, because they know the real money is almost anywhere but in the comics. Do you think a successful run on the Iron Man comic has even a tiny fraction of the impact on their bottom line that the movie had?

Years ago there was a rumor running around that Marvel was giving serious consideration to "farming out" the actual production of their comics. Although it was never confirmed, they reportedly discussed allowing other companies to produce the actual comics for their characters, while they concentrated on the more lucrative business of licensing. It made a certain amount of sense, even though it never came to pass. Instead, Marvel got into the movie business and that turned out pretty well for them.

Except for one disastrous attempt in the 90s, Disney has not produced comic books. It has simply licensed its characters to other companies and then reaped the benefit that came from the increased exposure by raising their licensing fees. But Disney's primary business was never making comics. It was making films. Marvel, on the other hand, is primarily a comic book company that has recently gotten into film making and shown their characters, their "properties", could be wildly successful outside of the fairly insular comic book market. Is it any wonder that Marvel attracted Disney's attention?

One of my friends posted that these were "dark days" for Marvel. Considering this is the company that has gone survived the regimes of Ron Pearlman, Roger Corman and Bill Jemas, that's quite a statement. I personally don't see that many dramatic changes, at least not in the short term. Marvel has been very successful lately and Disney is paying too much money to mess with that success. Luckily Disney has deep enough pockets that they won't be forced to do anything drastic to earn back that four billion dollars they ponied up for Marvel Entertainment.

Disco rules (in a sucky sort of way)

A friend of mine swears that I select music based primarily on how much it will irritate him. That's not true, of course. My tastes in music are very eclectic and you might find me listening to anything from techno to jazz to industrial to opera. In truth, I do have a soft spot for the unusual and gravitate to genre defying acts like Ned Sublett or Steve Tibbets. But I also have no problem with the most popular, even lightweight acts. I find that I can discuss music with most anyone, because while they may not like everything I like, chances are I like something they like. Music gives me a common ground of discussion, even if that discussion is about how "weird" my tastes are.

So lately I've been listening to a lot of disco.

I vaguely remember the "disco era". Mostly what I remember about it is how much I hated disco music. Like most young males trying to come to grips with their own testosterone, I wanted to rock. I didn't know that disco came out of the gay bar scene, but there was something about the music that seemed very un-masculine to me. So I shunned disco with a passion traditionally reserved for things you don't understand.

As the years went by, I explored every musical genre I could find; jazz, classical, punk, country, opera, Prog rock, funk, metal, electronic... you name it, I was into it at some point. Ultimately, disco was all that was left.

I've heard some people describe disco as "anti-music," and in some ways, they're not all that far off. There is a mechanical aspect to it that is anathema to what we normally respond to in music. It's only real purpose it to provide a beat for dancing, so it seldom deviates from a steady pulsing tempo (hence the mechanical aspect).

Does that make it bad music? Well, there was unquestionably a lot of bad disco music shoveled our way in the 70s. But in actuality, not all of it was bad. There were some genuine innovations that came out of disco production that are commonplace now and even accepted as hip in a plethora of dance genres (trance, house, acid, etc.). Even a lot of the bad stuff is now kind of fun in a kitschy trash sort of way.

So now, I couple of decades later, I don't find disco music so threatening. Maybe I am now far more secure in my masculinity.

Or maybe I just don't care any more.

Neo-opsis

In an earlier post I mentioned that Neo-opsis Magazine was nominated for the 2009 Aurora Award for "Best Work in English (other)". This was for issues 14 and 15 of their magazine, one of which (#14, for those who keep count) included my own story, "Shedding Skin." The Aurora is basically Canada's version of the Hugo Award, which is fitting since Neo-opsis is a Canadian Magazine. It also seemed fitting to jokingly refer to myself as "internationally published author" once I was published in a Canadian magazine.

The awards were handed out at Anticipation, the 67th Worldcon in Montreal a few days ago, and Neo-opsis deservedly won. This was their second award, as they won in the same category in 2007.

So do I now refer to myself as "award winning author"? No, at least not unless I'm in one of my sardonic moods. The award went to Karl and Stephanie Ann Johanson, as the editors of the magazine. My story is certainly connected to the award, but claiming anything beyond that tangental connection would be misleading. After all, it was "Shedding Skin" that moved Fix-online reviewer Lyndon Perry to refer to me as "competent," which is probably like referring to your blind date as having "personality".

(But I did like the tag so much I put it on the front page of my website. Did I mention sardonic moods?)

Les Paul

Les Paul died today.

I wouldn't be surprised if more people know that Jimmy Page played a Gibson "Les Paul" than actually knew who Les Paul was or why he was important.

He was not only a talented guitarist who could play a number of different styles with equal proficiency. More importantly, he was the primary inventor of the solid body electric guitar as well as a pioneer in the development of modern recording techniques such as overdubbing, tape delay and multi track recording. If he hadn't come along, somebody else would have invented at least some of these things, but the fact remains that he was there first and without his work, rock and roll wouldn't exist in the form we know it today.

And yet...I wonder just how many music fans realized the significance of his passing. It's ironic: we live in the information age. We are bombarded by more date and images than any generation in history and yet so many of us are woefully ignorant of cultural history.

A couple of years back I was talking to a young man who wanted to pursue a career in the music industry. His ultimate goal was to own his own recording label. I took his boasts of music knowledge at face value and assume he more than just the last few years of recording artist. Then one day I happened to mention Duke Ellington and I noticed his blank stare. I paused in whatever I was saying and asked "Duke Ellington? You do know who Duke Ellington is, don't you?"

He stammered for a moment and replied "uh, I think I've heard the name, maybe."

Now, I might not expect someone to be able to quote all of Ellington's works, but someone who is interested in music should at least have some familiarity with him legacy. I can think of only a few other American composers who could be argued to be equally impotrant. Ellington is part of our cultural legacy, just as is Les Paul.

This internet could be a really wonderful tool. Perhaps it's time we started using it for something other than downloading the latest pictures of Lindsy Lohan.

Learning to love the dinosaurs

In my youth, it was easy to tell the dinosaurs from the technologically competent: The dinosaurs couldn't program their VCRs. However, despite their helplessness at what I perceived as a simple task, I still looked on many of them with respect. After all, while I was a whiz at anything that involved parallel wiring or potentiometers, I was pretty clueless if you stuck a wrench in my hand and said "stop the water from gushing out of the sink."

Somewhere between those days and now, I underwent a strange metamorphosis. I can do a number of basic technological things. For example, I still write the HTML for my websites. But as I grew older, it seems I became less technological savvy. Now when a program suddenly starts spewing gibberish, I call my son, who clicks around until it somehow works again. I'm not sure how or exactly when it happened, but somewhere along the way I stopped caring about the latest innovation. The older I get, the less time I want to spend "keeping up."

Ironically, I'm discovering some advantages to Dinosaurism. For example, I used to love buying CDs, but had to be very selective in what I acquired because of the cost. Now that everyone is converting the music to MP3s and discarding their CDs, I'm adding stacks of new discs to my own library at a tiny fraction of their original cost. Yes, I have a lot of room tied up in storing shelves of CDs and DVDs. But I'm okay with that. I never felt comfortable with the idea of containing all of my media on a hard drive. Besides, while I'm aware of lossless audio file formats, the MP3s that most people are filling their ipods with are of inferior sound quality. Convenience is actually more important to the less fanatical than I. I understand that. But I am happy perfectly happy amassing all those cast off discs, clogging up my personal space and life. So there.

Anyway, there comes a point in life when "keeping up" is just not as important. I'm aware that change is inevitable and not necessarily a bad thing. But the wonderful thing about our lives in this era is that we can pick and choose which innovations we want to incorporate into our lifestyle.

I am computer savvy enough to get by for all the tasks that I need to accomplish, and for anything else, I have three children who are more than happy to show off what they know. After all, when the water is gushing onto the floor and my children stand there helpless, I grab a wrench and remind them that there are somethings you still can't fix with ctl+alt+dlt.

The Death of Anime in America

Since I own a shop that sells (or at least sold) anime DVDs, among other things, I had a front row seat to watch the rise and fall of the American Anime industry.

"Rise and fall?" you say. But isn't anime still immensely popular? Well, yeah, it is. But the American Anime industry, those various companies who make their own living by acquiring Anime properties from Japan, dubbing them and making them available on American format DVDs, is trying desperately, and by many accounts unsuccessfully, to remain alive.

So what happened? Easy: The internet, file sharing and streaming.

I've engaged in countless "discussions" over the ethicality of downloading anime, manga and other intellectual properties without providing compensation to the owners or creators. I've heard all the arguments and, yes, some are compelling. "I only download," they say, "because the American companies aren't getting these series over here fast enough. I want to watch/read it now. It's their fault for taking so long to get it over here to America."

"Okay," I reply. "Imagine this: You are someone who creates manga or anime. You've toiled in the industry for years trying to create that special property, one that will make you famous and rich. Finally, after years of work, something you create becomes a HUGE hit in Japan. You know the real money is made by taking that property to other markets, like the US. But the Anime companies in the US lowball you and offer much less than you think the property should be worth. Think about this for a moment. If you finally created something that had a huge demand, you would want to profit from it. It's not necessarily greed, but simple reward for your efforts. After all, you might not ever have another hit like this. So you think, 'I'll hold out until the offer me something closer to what I want.' It's a viable option, right?

"Wrong. Every day you delay, your 'fans' are downloading your creations, because they can't (or more accurately, won't) wait. It is worth less and less every day. Congratulations, you no longer have control over the very thing which you created."

For better or worse, we seem to feel that cheap entertainment is our inalienable right. I'm guilty of it myself. I dropped my subscription to the morning paper last year because I now get all my news on the internet. Where does virtually all of that news come from? From the very same sources that are now floundering because no one is willing to buy a paper or magazine. We're getting accustomed to all of this being provided for free.

As a consumer, I like free stuff. I like cheap stuff too. I'm not knocking free or cheap. But there is always a cost, somewhere, to someone. And when people become so accustomed to getting everything for free, who will be willing to shoulder that cost so that great stuff can still be provided?

Did I mention the American Anime industry is dying?

Cause and effect, people.

One Touch to Remember

The newest volume of the Triangulation series of anthologies premiered this past week at the Pittsburgh Sci Fi convention.

I haven't been writing a lot of short fiction lately, but since last year's volume was so well received, I worked something up for this one. The story is called "One Touch to Remember" and it connects to the theme of the anthology: Dark Glass.

If you missed the Pittsburgh con, you can order a copy here:

http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/triangulation-dark-glass/7308936

It's available both in a conventional print version and a more economical PDF. As I've writen before, it's now more important than ever to support the small press, as it serves as virtually the last refuge for short fiction. Personally, I'd go for the print version. It has a gorgeous cover and will impress all your friends. Either way you go, let me know what you think of the story.

Why I love Anna Nyrayeba - whoever she is!

First a little background:

Back when I worked in a recording studio, Lloyd Maines turned me on to two different acts.
The first was a album that he had just (at that time) produced in New York by Ned Sublett. Now, Ned was loosely known as the "Rapping Cowboy", although he really didn't rap all that much. Mostly he just mashed disparate genres together in a melange that shouldn't work, but oddly did. Rumba, western swing, heavy metal...it was all fair game in songs like Cattle Mutilation Blues and Cowboy's are Frequently Secretly Fond of Each Other.

The other artist was a more famous one. He handed me a red vinyl album of the Legendary Stardust Cowboy, with the words "You have to understand, this isn't a joke. He's completely serious about what he does." The Legendary Stardust Cowboy originally hailed from Lubbock and, in the wake of Tiny Tim's brief popularity, almost achieved a sort of fame with his song "Paralyzed," which was widely regarded as the worst record ever made. The 'Ledge, as he was affectionately known, specialized, heck - even invented, as form of music known as "Psychobilly", and his wild performance abandon was legendary (no pun intended). David Bowie was even a fan and reportedly had the 'Ledge in mind when he created Ziggy Stardust.

Personally, I really like Ned Sublett's music. It's hard to categorize, but it works in a wierd but intriguing way. The Ledge... well, mostly his stuff is just a hoot. Yeah, it's funny in an unintentionally way, but you also marvel at his fearless abandon. When people come to my house and I pull out the Ledge, they know it's time to go home.

So, anyway, I'm always looking for what could most charitably be described as "unusual" music. This past weekend I hit the jackpot.

I was at Half Price Books in Dallas, scavenging through their bargain CD bins when I came across a disc that was tough to identify. This was because it was Russian. The artist was (as close as I can come without Russian Alphabet characters) Anna Nyrayeba. Since it was all in Russian, I couldn't tell anything about the song titles or any other relevant information. But the cover was a day glow green and silver, so I'm thinking "Hmmm, probably techno or disco." Russian Disco?! Sounds like a must have, so I added it to may already large stack.

Well, as it turns out, it's not disco or techno, but something more like Russian bar room cabaret. Needless to say, I kind of like it, but most everyone else hates it. I put it on briefly at the last magic tournament and was quickly asked most emphatically to turn it off.

But, hey! If you come to my house and plan on staying late - you'd better pull out that Russian-English dictionary. You can translate for me and we'll boogie to a little Russian Cabaret!

Blogging to live, living to blog

What a world we live in!

I've always been a bit perplexed by the concept of blogging. We are steadily becoming disassociated with the people around us, and yet we crave community. Where we once stood around at the corner shop and expounded on all things relevant and irrelevant, we now post our words to the net, in all their misspelled glory.

So the question might be why do we care? Why are we interested in the words of people we don't know while we can't make the time to listen to the person on the street? Perhaps, and I'm just speculating here, we are simply more comfortable with an impersonal setting. I see teenagers all the time who would rather send a text message than place a phone call.

When I speak with other people who deal with the public, the topic of civility often comes up. I don't know how many times I've heard someone say they feel people have gotten less polite just in the last ten to twelve years. Now, I don't think people are inherently bad. But perhaps we are working towards unlearning some of the social skills that used to be considered important.

In some ways it's all about risk and reward. Most of us know what it's like to tell a joke and then see blank expressions where we hoped there would be laughter. Those are risks we should be willing to take, but increasingly we seem content to sit at our monitors. Think about it - when you type "lmao" - are you really?

Award Nominated!! (sort of... in a round about way...)

I had a story published in Neo-opsis 14 last year. Now, Neo-opsis is a Canadian sci fi mag, and very good one that I am proud to be associated with.

Since Canada is, last time I checked, a different nation from the one in which I live (that being the U.S.), I started jokingly referring to myself in various blogs and sites as "Internationally Published Author..."

Now, I find out that issues 14 and 15 of Neo-opsis have been nominated for the 2009 Aurora Award for Best Work in English (other). The Aurora Award is Canada's version of the Hugo and my story, "Shedding Skin" was one of twelve stories between the two issues. Okay, it's a stretch. Theyr'e largely nominated for the fine job they do putting together this magazine. But I'm willing to pad my resume with the assiociation.

Besides...I've been guilty by association often enough.