Retirement Dreams and Stranger Things

My dad has the best retirement gig around. He teaches at the community college in Harrison. He has taught Western Civilization, and I think another hstory class. Next fall he teaches a cinema class, “Great Films” or something like that. He’ll be busy all summer deciding what to show and what to say about each movie. And he’s not limited to older movies, either, nor is he restricted to some critical canon of motion pictures. Basically he’s free to teach whatever he wants (hello Young Farnkenstein). That would just be too much fun. We were debating options yesterday. I’ll let you know what he chooses.

I’ve always wanted to be a teacher. When I was in junior high, I asked my mom, a former 9th Grade English teacher, what she thought of that and she promptly replied, “Nooooo” with Sigourney Weaver-esque vigor[1] that I could almost hear her say “there is no Dana, only Zuul.” What a sad state of affairs the world is in when a teacher does not recommend her vocation to others. I knew it would be hard work – I’d seen the Ralph Macchio/Nick Nolte movie Teachers and I knew the job was somewhat akin to going to war against stupidity. I knew the battleground was the hell of other people. What better war to fight, I figure? Lost causes are the only ones worth fighting for, supposedly.

Nevertheless I got in through a side door by teaching guitar for several years in Maumelle. That was fun. I miss hanging around kids and showing them how to be creative, and reminding them that adolescence is, for the most part, a cyclone of irrelevant social pressures, needless anxiety, and relentless psychological abuse/marketing. I like to think I helped some people.

If I won the lottery and didn’t have to worry about money, I’d start a pop music school, something like School of Rock but with more emphasis on different styles. I’ve actually thought about this quite a bit. The atmosphere would be more social, like Banjo Center on Saturdays where kids are having a musical community despite the commercial nature of the venue. We’d have a digital library where kids could listen to a massive selection of music, stacks of music books, tablature folios, and instruments to play. Maybe a few rehearsal rooms for jamming and lessons. Basically a larger version of my house, open to the public, with maybe a coffee bar/soda fountain or something suitably snacky. I’ve wondered about how it might financially sustain itself – subscriptions? donations? tips? Fortunately most of the “stock” I already have. I’d just need to pay rent, which would be considerable given the needs of the facility. Anyway, just another thing I think about before I go to bed.

1.) Or maybe Bill Cosby’s wife in that “YOUUUU GAVE THEM CHOCOLATE CAAAKE” voice.

Riverfest

Anybody interested in working the Triple S Stage with me this year at Riverfest? I did it last year and it was a barrel of monkeys. This year we’ll be driving vans[1] and fetching snacks for the Neville Brothers, Mike Huckabee’s band, Del McCoury, and Pat Green. We’ll also get local luminaries the Boondogs, the Rockin’ Guys, Chris Denny and the amazing Ted Ludwig. Who wants in on hiding twinkies from Aaron Neville?

1.) And golf carts. Did I mention the golf carts? Free food, backstage hangouts, and golf carts are what God intended the Good Life for us to be.

Improvements

21 years ago this week, Coca-Cola introduced New Coke. It burned down, fell over and then sank into the swamp, but might I suggest something to the good people at Lay’s Potato Chips? A slight name change for better, more accurate marketing:

New Crack™

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Seriously, Wesley Snipes could start a New Jack City empire on this sh*t. And apparently, for those who may live in the uncivilized wilds of Saskatchewan or Newton County, you can buy it on Amazon.

The Literary Festival of Arkansas

Ordinarily I’m not a huge fan of sitting still for hours at a time listening to people read and talk, but the Literary Festival was a great deal of fun. Good consumer that I am, I bought five books:

The Coast of Akron by Adrienne Miller
The Song Reader by Lisa Tucker
The Brief History of the Dead by Kevin Brockmeier
I’ll Take You There by Bill Friskics-Warren
These People Are Us by George Singleton

I attended discussions by each author, and found their presentations to be compelling enough to buy their books (and have them signed), so while I can’t say I recommend the books yet, I can at least say I found them to be interesting and entertaining people.

I’m also curious to know why I didn’t see any of my friends down there – where was everybody? Did y’all not hear about it? I guess I didn’t pester people enough.
Oh, I also had a private party gig with Amnesia Saturday night. We played much longer than usual and wore me out. And after getting up Sunday morning to do yardwork, I’m surprised I’m still awake right now. I had planned to go see John Corbett (actor/singer from Northern Exposure, Sex in the City, and My Big Fat Greek Wedding) tonight at Juanita’s but I’m too tired. Coincidentally I’m watching some episodes of Northern Exposure right now.

Powers of Two, or What I Think About Before I Go to Bed

This is the sort of thing I wonder about at night before I go to sleep. Some nights these things actually prevent me from sleeping. Like this one: consider the fact that, in order for you to be born, you had to have two parents, who also had to have two parents, and so on. Given that my grandparents were born in the early part of the 20th century, let’s say that there are about three generations in a family per century. So, since the year 1, about 60 generations (3 generations times 20 centuries).

So the math goes like this: 2 parents, 4 grandparents, 8 great-grandparents, 16 great-great-grandparents and so on to the 60th power.

2 to the 60th power = 1,152,921,504,606,846,976.

So 2,000 years ago I would have had about 1 quintillion great60 grandparents? That can’t be right. Somebody tell me why my math is faulty. My brain hurts.

Free Live Music Downloads

I keep forgetting to tell people about the Internet Archive and its enormous store of free live recordings. The list is huge and eccentric (and obscure), but if you take the time to skim down the list I’m sure you’ll find something you like. A lot of it comes from the ‘taper’ community, so there’s a ton of Grateful Dead and jam bands, but like I say there’s something for everyone. So far I see good stuff from: Alex Skolnick, Ari Hest, Aquarium Rescue Unit, Bela Fleck & the Flecktones, Ben Lee, Ben Kweller, Buckethead, Charlie Hunter, David Gray, David Mead, Damian Rice, G. Love, Mogwai, Moe, Kaki King, Jump Little Children, Jack Johnson, Howie Day, Henry Kaiser, Guster, Robert Randolph, Spoon, The Argument, The Decemberists, The Samples, and Toad the Wet Sprocket.

Intelli-pop : The Pilot Episode

Back in 2001, Chris and I produced a radio show for KABF. We would record an hour long show at his studio and put it on disc for KABF to play at their convenience. They said they would use it after baseball games, but we can neither confirm nor deny that any episodes ever aired. We even started a website, intelli-pop.com, but since the project never took off, I just pointed it over to rossrice.net.

Thanks to Margot, who recently pointed out to me that the Internet Archive offers free media storage, I uploaded the first show there. Take a listen and let me know what you think. If you enjoy it, I’ll upload the rest of the episodes.

Streaming | Download (80MB right click to ‘save as’)

3 Down, 1 to Go

Dotty Oliver from the Little Rock Free Press emailed me a couple of weeks ago saying that my “name had come up” as a possible writer for a piece on Max Recordings‘ 5th anniversary. It’s nice to know my name comes up. And this time I’ll get paid! Not much, but enough to say I’m a professional journalist[1].

I put it together in just a few days, and it turned out OK. I think it will be in the racks here soon. So I’ve conquered Arkansas Times, Localist, and now the Freep. Onward to Nightflying.

1.) In the same sense that I’ve been a professsional actor because I’ve been paid to act once.

Freakiness

I neglected to mention this wire story from Pittsburgh recently, which freaked me out for several minutes. As I read the story I was thinking how bizarre it was, and then I see the sentence “my name is not Nikki Allen.”

I only know one person in Pittsburgh, and her name is Nikki Allen. She, like the girl in the story, is 24.

After a quick search of the National Center for Missing & Exploited Children, I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the girl’s picture, and it wasn’t my friend. Here’s her myspace page and livejournal. Still a weird way to start your day. The story is developing into something truly weird.