Geoffrey and I went to the Tell Us The Truth show Tuesday, very good show! Not quite as rageful as I'd expected, though. More of a mellow, gentle urging to be part of a change. No exhortations to break shit or to boycott multinational corporations. Guess they realize we've heard all that. Here are some thoughts I had on Steve Earle while at the show, take 'em or leave 'em:

Steve, like never before when heroin hasn't been involved, is a tiny little wisp of a man now! He apparently is on the Atkins diet (this I read on the wire), and he looks 10 years younger when he's not a big TUBbY. He'd look right
nice, in fact ... if it wasn't for his horrific combover! Sweet lord! I'm telling you, it is THE worst combover I've ever, ever seen. And it seems so strange, because Steve seems the type to make fun of combovers, not wear a hideous one. Here, you have to look at it, even though the sight will scar you. (Check out the seventh photo down -- He's the guy on the right, in case you don't know) Please, really. Can someone talk to him about this? He looks soooo good not tubby, and he just ... looks healthy and happy. But he needs to go bald gracefully. For real.

After the show Tuesday, we was walking out and noticed a balcony to the side of the stage where performers can hang when they're not onstage. And what we saw was this: Steve Earle, having a cigarette and talking to Tom Morello. Janeane Garofolo joins them for a few minutes, and then Mike Mills (of REM) walks by and claps them on the back. What we realized was possibly that was like a supernova of cool. A vortex of cool, even, sucking out everyone else's cool because everyone else's cool is no match for that level of cool. Man.

In other news, a new era has dawned in my little world. It is all Carlton's fault. He very nicely bestowed upon me for my birthday a gift certificate for iTunes. I checked it out, and it is as I expected: A Pandora's Box of delight. I used to get
all twitchy when I heard about iTunes, but for the sake of my sanity tried to find out as little as possible about it (ignore it and it'll go away?). Until today. Now my brain is all seized up and there's no way I'm getting anything else done today. Or ever. It's so ... beautiful. Gaaaaaaaaah.

Tomorrow (really today, I realize, checking the clock on our beautiful, glorious, non-blue-screen-of-death prone new computer) is Thanksgiving. Happy Thanksgiving! I am being ambitious and planning to prepare a big ol' meal, even though it's just the hubby and I. Luckily, we two tubbies can pack away a lot of food. I've been researching how to cook turkey extensively -- I think I am ready. We bought fresh, not frozen, so we won't have to deal with thawing, which is what I'm good at screwing up. I also have already made a pecan pie (my first!), and plan to do my very excellent (if I do say so myself) mashed potatoes, some asparagus (nervous about that), stuffing and cranberry sauce (open can, dump in bowl). I am bad at cooking, mostly, so this will be quite an undertaking. Now is the time to lock in your wager as to what time of day I will give up and call for pizza.

Not to get mushy, but today I am thankful for lots of things, including my husband and our kickass wedding; my family (old and new); being well-off enough to live in comfort and safety; my car Ramon, who has gone more than 400 consecutive days without being stolen!; my job, which I hate, but I know I'm lucky to have one; my hair, so I don't have to do a combover; my CDs that bring me joy and peace; and -- last but not least at all -- my friends, including each of you, who give me reasons to smile every day.

LISTENING TO: Geoffrey playing "Knights of the Old Republic" on the Xbox on the other side of the living room. Also, re-listening to STEVE EARLE/Jerusalem, which seems to be a CD that becomes even better with age ... and, sadly, more and more relevant if you happen to be a mite dissatisfied with the state of the nation and of the world these days.