Truth Be Told...

I've gotta say...I'm just not into the 3/4 capri pants that girls are rockin...a lot these days. Rarely does an article of clothing fail big time in my mind. I can't quite put my finger on it...but they immediately remind me of horse jockeys and I just don't seem to find that very attractive...go figure.

Mind you, I am the last person on this earth that should be criticizing fashion. I own two pairs of cords, a pair of jeans....and t-shirts. But hot damn, do I love my wardrobe.

Cold wintery day outside? Throw on the grey cords.

Hot ass summer day at Lollapalooza? Throw on the brown cords (no, not for the fashion statement....because I've been too lazy to buy a pair of shorts...for the past 3 years).

Wanting an excuse to bail on a cheesy bachelor party at a cheesy dance club? Throw on the jeans....they'll never let you in...and you'll be the only one in line not arguing it.

It's quite the simple formula I've created and it seems to work just splendidly all year long.

And it is with this that I put forth my suggestion to all capri wearers....trade in for the following:

1 pair jeans
1 pair sporty/stylish/casual shoes
1 thrift store belt....and yes, no glitter.

Capri...schmapri....no more racetracks.

-B

vidz...

Ahhh, this is excellent, well done Western Vinyl.

Check out "Church Palms" and "Fashion Island" featuring one of my favorite tunes of all time.

http://www.fieldnaps.com/

Enjoy.

-Bott

It just sounds good...

Sometimes you find yourself in such a musical rut that you begin to wonder if every new band is going to be a slightly more disappointing version of the latest 80's, new wave, post-punk, dance-rock, Franz Arctic mish mosh.

Then the latest edition of Magnet arrives in your mailbox and the tides turn...for no good reason at all except for the fact that sometimes it takes a solid, quality music mag to lead you to surfing the web checking out random new releases and reminding yourself of your favorite albums...the ones that make you step back and say...ahhhh, yes...I do like music.

One thing led to another tonight and I was ecstatic to discover that Bexar Bexar has released a new album, entitled "Tropism." I was fairly certain that BB was no longer in existence after their debut release on Western Vinyl three years ago. But here I sit tonight, listening to the graceful, dreamy sounds of a genius who can craft sounds that will entertain my ears for the next 3 years and the next 3 years... Thank you Bexar...and you Bexar.

-Bott

Nothin' like a lil'....

On my train ride into work this morning, I was sitting across from a 60 year old man. He was nicely dressed in his old man slacks and even had a nice leather portfolio/briefcase resting upon his lap. The poor old man had a cough...or at least that was my original diagnosis before he blew his nose and spit something awful into a tissue AND proceeded to drop it on the ground.

I stared...astonished....as he proceeded to do the whole process AGAIN. Two used tissues full of God-knows-what-case-of-avian-bird-flu-disease-cough-phlegm...resting a mere couple feet away from me.

I called him out by asking, "Oh sir, I believe you dropped something." He grunted...and grunted again.

I cranked the I-Pod higher. When in doubt...close the eyes and crank the I-Pod higher.

Dear Chicago....dear Chicago.

-bott

Forgot to post this last week...

whhhhoooooaaaaa champ.....

Urban attitude never ceases to amaze me. I went out to get something from my car today. As I was trudging along, a young fellow drove by in his decked out circa 1993 Honda Civic. I was hardly able to catch a glimpse...the 3 foot high spoiler on the back really made him scurry right along in a dash. But, oh...oh yes...I could hear him...because in addition to that fantastic spoiler, he had a 1 foot wide muffler on the back to demonstrate to the world just how he is capable of making his car sound like a squealing mouse.

Mr. Fan-tas-tik (I only knew this was his name because of the fancy dancy lettering across the top of his windshield) happened to spot me heading towards my car and quickly made a dash around the block to get in prime waiting position for me to move. Though I drive my own car fairly infrequently, I do like to start him up once in awhile, especially in the cold months, to ya know...make sure he still breathes...and isn't stolen. Soooo, while grabbing what I needed from my car, I decided to hang around and let the engine run for a few minutes with no intention of moving.

While listening to some tunes, I glanced over and noticed none other than Mr. Fantastik, whoops, sorry....Mr. Fan-tas-tik, screaming at me to move my own car. I politely opened my own window and informed my new friend that I had no intention of moving and was merely retrieving something from my car.In a blaze of fury, Mr. Fan-tas-tik proceeded to flip me off, cuss me out AND spit towards my car before racing away. Anticipating a quick return, I got out of my car and pretended to be polishing my tires. Sure enough, Mr. Fan-tas-tik returned infuriated but was able to park in a newly opened spot right across from me.

Fearing for my life but still wanting to enjoy a good laugh, I proceeded to pull out of my spot and immediately park right back in the same spot. I should probably be thankful I wasn't shot.I half expect to have flat tires, a spraypainted windshield, or no car at all by tomorrow morning.

But one thing is for sure....if I do still have a car by morning, I plan on lettering my windshield with the following name:Fan-tas-tik-er-more-betterNo, no...thank you Mr. Fan-schmuck-stik