shellen.com / grant

Don't you hate that?

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Thu, 02 Oct 2008 17:28:00 +0000

Ever have that moment where you think you're about to lock your keys in your car? But it's too late to do anything about it? And so there you go, just like a dope, closing the door all the while thinking, "Oh crap?" But then you check and it turns out you actually have your keys so it's fine? And then you're so overjoyed that you grab the next stranger you see and kiss them full on the lips, even if it's someone of the same gender and you're straight and happily married? And then you have that awkward moment where you've kissed this stranger and you then have to ask his name? And you offer to walk him to his car? And then the two of you go out to dinner, and you have a really good time? And you agree to go on a two-week Mexican cruise with him? And when you return, your marriage is destroyed, you lose all your money and wind up living in a friend's basement, working nights at a convenience store and crying yourself to sleep?

No, me neither. I was just asking.

The rambler

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Sat, 20 Sep 2008 18:40:00 +0000

I was about to write a post called "Seven albums I couldn't do without" or something like that, and I decided to postpone it because instead of seven, I came up with 35.

You might say I have somewhat of a problem � an addiction, nearly. I own at least 1,000 CDs. My iTunes library says I have 14,651 items. I could press "play" at the top of my music collection and I wouldn't run out of listening material until the 40th straight day. That doesn't account for the LP collection (300ish?) in my closet.

You'd think that with that much music, I'd have "enough." And by "you," I mean my mother. When I lived at home and had to keep buying increasingly larger CD shelves, Mom used to tell me that in college, she had one little crate with a few records, and that was enough. She eventually gave up on telling me the story.

I couldn't possibly listen to everything in my collection with any regularity, right? So why buy new stuff? Well, it's because I'm hungry. Sounds corny, but it's the only comparison I can use. You know those fit guys you knew in school who never seemed to get full? (In some cases, these "guys" were tiny girls, which was even more perplexing.) These guys would eat a burger as an appetizer before chowing down a steak, and still have room for a baked potato and ice cream.

That's how I feel about music: I can never get enough. I've been trying to figure out why, and here's what I came up with: I'm a thrill-seeker. Not in the traditional sense of jumping out of airplanes or other stupidly dangerous shit, but in the sense of the thrill and excitement of a new experience. When I hear a record for the first time, it will evoke something different in me than anything else I've heard. It might remind me of another record or song or artist, but in a slightly different way. I'd rather have that feeling a thousand times than hear the same crate of records over and over again.

I then realized that this is how I live my life in almost every area. I have my favorite beers, sure, but I'm more likely to order something I've never tried, just to see if my taste buds are delighted in a different way. When Heather and I make travel plans, we seek out someplace we've never been, so we can see buildings our eyes never imagined (or have only seen in two dimensions), smell air that might be a little unfamiliar and meet people who have been raised in a different environment. And Netflix is a cinematic Godsend for a thrill-seeker.

Why am I telling you this? I'm not. I'm telling myself. Because any time I'm tempted to stick with what I know just because it's easier, I could use a reminder that what makes me happy isn't necessarily the comfort of familiarity � it's the thrill of discovery.

A friendly (a.k.a. passive-aggressive) reminder

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Thu, 21 Aug 2008 22:20:00 +0000

Lessons I learned while making dinner by myself last night

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 20:05:00 +0000

Knives are sharp!

Related: It's difficult to prep food with your thumb wrapped up in a napkin.

If one dish takes 6 minutes to cook and another one takes 20 minutes, start the 20-minute one first.

If you ever think, "Hey, this could use more garlic," you should probably increase the amount slowly and keep tasting rather than just doubling what you've already put in.

For fellow obsessive-compulsive types: Being diligent about cleaning surfaces that have been touched by raw meat is important. Being diligent about cleaning surfaces that have been touched by dried herbs & washed vegetables is less important and just as time-consuming.

It was described as "mild," I suppose

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Wed, 21 May 2008 20:57:00 +0000

And here I thought I was a trooper for switching guitars quickly after breaking a string mid-song. I'm pretty sure that a heart attack would slow me down a bit more. Not Buddy Rich (see Rich's face @ 3:00):

(via Death Cab for Cutie's Jason McGerr on Stereogum)

Things the iPhone has eliminated from my life

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 18:27:00 +0000

1. The need to slap my phone against my knee in order to get the screen to show up at full brightness
2. A previous lack of self-righeoustness
3. The "oh crap" moment when I realize I don't know the time and place of my first meeting/event of the day
4. The possibility of buying something in a retail store only to get home and find out that the internet has deemed that product unworthy or overpriced
5. That horrible feeling of being completely disconnected from the outside world while in the bathroom

When the internet works

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Thu, 21 Feb 2008 02:57:00 +0000

I don't think I need to tell you ways in which the internet has failed us. We've all got stories, whether it's the crappy medical advice that made your boil worse, or the YouTube comment thread on a 4-year-old's birthday party video that has somehow degraded into a back-and-forth about Hitler.

But for all its hoo-ha and whatnot, the internet occasionally provides something of such great value that it makes me smile (only momentarily, though � you don't want people in the office thinking you're enjoying yourself). Case in point:

I have these pants. Dress pants. The hem had come undone on the right leg (perhaps the left, but that really doesn't matter). While they were not expensive pants, they were neither cheap, and I felt I had not obtained maximum value from them. So I thought I'd take them to a tailor. Trouble is, it's not 1950 and I have no idea where to find a respectable tailor.

So I hop on yelp.com and lo and behold, there's a tailor in Palo Alto who's received rave reviews.

When I made my way there, I was surprised by the nondescript business, one of a million that I would otherwise never have wandered into of my own volition. I went in, presented the pants, expecting a "This'll be a week," but instead the tailor asked, "Can you wait five minutes?" Sure.

Four minutes and $5 later, I hopped in my car with a pair of nicely hemmed pants and an honest-to-goodness smile on my face. This, friends, is when the internet gets it done.

Oh, to have roadies

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Sat, 12 Jan 2008 07:21:00 +0000

What happens when a string breaks right at the beginning of a song? You GIT-R-DONE!

Five years wasted

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Wed, 09 Jan 2008 17:13:00 +0000

For at least five years, I hung onto a two-foot strip of Velcro that I'd somehow acquired. I have no idea where it came from, but I figured, "Hey, free Velcro," and kept it in my life. The strip survived at least one move. It's a fighter.

At points, it seemed like I came in contact with this particular segment of Velcro so regularly that it became part of my day-to-day life.

"Why, hello, friend," you could occasionally hear me remark to the Velcro. "How are you this fine day?"

I had no real need for it, and knew that Velcro was readily available for purchase should such a real need arise, but still I kept it � just in case.

But last night, when I needed approximately two feet of Velcro for perhaps the first time in...ever, where was that old friend? NOWHERE TO BE FOUND. I fear I may have thrown it out in a fit of Clean Sweeping several months ago. Starting to feel that my quasi-hoarding tendencies are perhaps justified.

Post Script: It was devoured by ants two weeks later

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Tue, 18 Dec 2007 07:00:00 +0000

When I was a kid, one of my favorite annual holiday traditions was the crafting of graham-cracker houses. Like gingerbread houses, only easier, they were a staple of the Shellen Christmas-time ritual, which also included listening to terrible Christmas records and my father losing interest in decorating the tree after about two ornaments.

The house making slipped by the wayside in recent years after a pretty good run. I was quite pleased when my mom said she wanted to give it a shot again this year, especially since it would be the first time my five nephews would partake.

I used to keep to a fairly traditional house, supplemented with the occasional luxury add-on (I believe my last house had a nice Froot Loop spa with candy-cane handles). Jason has been more adventurous, one year creating a graham-cracker car accident that left a gingerbread man severed in half, bleeding red sprinkle blood onto the foil road beneath him, still a smile on his lifeless face.

This year, though, I knew I'd have to step it up since the whole family would be creating works of Honey Maid art fueled by the kinetic energy of several graham-less years. Heather created her own modern take on the house, which ~~I'll let her post on her own~~ she's posted pictures of here, but I wanted to do something a little different. Naturally, a stage seemed appropriate.

I spent the most time on the lighting rig, and I had originally intended only to have one guitarist/singer, but at the last moment I assembled a drum kit that I think turned out pretty nice. Inspired, I then made a fairly faithful replica of Farewell Typewriter, except that none of us have played instruments made out of cereal for years.

I'm entering my creation in YumSugar's Gingerbread House Challenge, so hopefully it'll be included in their roundup. You can check that out after Dec. 21. Meanwhile, enjoy:

Could this get me on Letterman?

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Sun, 18 Nov 2007 07:22:00 +0000

I haven't figured out if this is a marketable, or even remarkable, trait yet, but I've got some sort of musical ESP. I must pick up on some sort of ethereal music-related knowledge, mostly centered around album releases and band reunions, that is nearly uncanny. Recent examples:

One day in my car, I had the thought, Gee, I wonder if Superdrag will ever get back together. I received an email from the band's mailing list announcing a reunion tour THE NEXT DAY.

I was listening to No Knife, wondering what had become of the remaining members and thinking I should research where they've gone -- especially vocalists Ryan Ferguson and Mitch Wilson. I received Ferguson's new solo album from a publicist THAT DAY.

I had the Vanessa Carlton song "A Thousand Miles" in my head for several days without remembering what her name was (or knowing why I was humming a song I am not particularly fond of). I finally remembered her name in the shower one day. I read an email with a list of new releases, including her new album, TWO HOURS LATER.

This seems on the level with having premonition dreams about things that aren't all that surprising ("Darlene, didn't I tell you there would be a light breeze today?"), but still, it freaks me out from time to time.

I never thought I'd lust after a sequined item

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Sat, 17 Nov 2007 02:45:00 +0000

But I never thought they'd make a sequined Chuck.

"TV�s gonna be there for you, baby."

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Wed, 14 Nov 2007 17:53:00 +0000

It's this kind of writing that makes me glad there are words:

Screenwriter Josh A. Cagan's "Letter From Hollywood."

Flava for thought

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Fri, 09 Nov 2007 21:18:00 +0000

Having only been 7 years old when Public Enemy's landmark album It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back was released, I just recently procured this record and listened to it for the first time. Some questions now remain:

1. What possessed '80s and early '90s hip-hop producers to think that that repetitive high-pitched squeal sound effect was cool? (See also: Cypress Hill's "Insane in the Brain.")

2. I understand the role of the hype man in hip-hop, but would Public Enemy's records really have been that much worse off without Flavor Flav? Is "Yeah, boyee!" really complementary to Chuck D's politically-charged lyrics?

3. I'm very clear on the fact that your DJ is named Terminator X. There is no need to repeat it any further. Also, I understand your group is called Public Enemy. This isn't really a question I guess. Just a puzzled statement.

Can't we just eat them separately as Mother Nature intended?

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 07:29:00 +0000

Now, I love the occasional Oreo cookie. And I'll partake in a slice of pizza from time to time. Even a dessert pizza, perhaps of the cinnamon variety. But there are limits to what a man will do to his own body, and putting an Oreo Dessert Pizza anywhere near my mouth is beyond those limits for me.

Guest post

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Mon, 03 Sep 2007 02:32:00 +0000

What do you do when you want to post something to your blog but don't have anything useful to say? Have one of your friends' 9-month-old daughters post for you. Heather has tried this tactic before with a 3-year-old, with good results. Madison, take it away:

ikk;/.-0lllp\l
, ,
mjmm k?

Impressive, no?

The collector's dilemma

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Fri, 10 Aug 2007 15:59:00 +0000

More precision Amazon recommendations

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Fri, 27 Jul 2007 16:52:00 +0000

Loyal readers might recall my previous mention of Amazon.com's interesting recommendations for me when I was on the site. The same recommending robots are at it again, this time sending me an email to let me know about an album I might not want to pass up:

"We've noticed that customers who have purchased or rated Yoko by Beulah have also purchased Karl Schmitt-Walter Lieder Vol. 2 Beethoven, Schumann, Wolf, Historical Recordings from 1938-44."

I'm sure Beulah would be flattered that they're being placed in the same league as Beethoven and Schumann, but I might have to turn off these email updates if they're going to continue at this level of extreme helpfulness.

A point for effort

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Tue, 24 Jul 2007 01:46:00 +0000

I like CD Baby's selection of indie music and their hilarious confirmation and customer service messages, but their suggestions could use a little work. To follow up on a recent purchase of Division Day, Jon Auer and The Pills CDs, I received an email with the subject "turning you on to new music at CD Baby" suggesting I check out these artists:

The Beatles
Modest Mouse
The Kinks
Teenage Fanclub
Death Cab for Cutie

Right, I've heard a bit about these "Beatles." Tearing up the charts, if I recall correctly. Gotta give them a listen.

This would be a different conversation if it were The Breakfast Club postage

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Sun, 08 Jul 2007 22:44:00 +0000

Me: So, I bought these Star Wars stamps the other day...
Heather: Oh, I didn't realize you bought those. I thought someone gave them to you.
Me: Right. No, I bought them.
Heather: Okay.
Me: Anyway, I bought them to use them, but they're kind of too cool to use, you know? Like I'm thinking I might want to keep them. What if they're worth something one day?
Heather: Okay. Well, if that's the case, then you should keep them away from me.

Songs with which I've been obsessed in recent months

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Wed, 27 Jun 2007 01:22:00 +0000

Every few weeks or so, I'll hear a song that is so good and in some way infectious that it consumes my subconcious to a near-unhealthy point. I'll hear it in the shower. I'll hum it while I'm walking. I'll listen to it 10 times a day. Here's the latest batch of persistent fellers (disclosure: all album links are Amazon referrals, so I'll earn a small cut if you buy through the links):

"Courtesy Laughs" by Phoenix, from It's Never Been Like That
This is absolutely the catchiest earworm that's invaded my brain in a while. Kinda dancey, then rockin' -- this is the sound Farewell Typewriter seems to be moving toward, but I'll buy you all Lexuses (Lexi? Lexen?) the day we sound this good. Making myself stop listening to it constantly so I don't go nuts.

"Finer Feelings" by Spoon, from Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
I know this record isn't technically out yet, but I have a feeling this song will be amazing. I'm guessing there will be a steady, driving rhythmic element and some trademark Britt Daniel vocal harmony. Call it a hunch.

"No Room For Change" by Crystal Skulls from Blocked Numbers
I saw Crystal Skulls open for Headphones at Cafe du Nord a couple of years ago, and they tore it up despite there being a very small audience. My favorite part was when singer Christian Wargo walked out into the audience and sang directly to John Vanderslice. I love San Francisco. Almost as much as I love the lazy, loungey pop of this song.

"Four Winds" by Bright Eyes from Cassadega
I find Conor Oberst to be somewhat pretentious and off-putting at times, but the guy can write a song. The male/female vocal harmony during the choruses of this song gives me goosebumps.

"Skeleton Key" by Margot and the Nuclear So and So's from The Dust of Retreat
Speaking of goosebumps -- Margot songwriter Richard Edwards knows how to make 'em, and his seven or so additional band members will permanently install them at no additional charge.

"Find Yourself Alone" by Ken Stringfellow from Touched
I believe I've talked about my huge appreciation for The Posies before, but what I've been recently impressed with is how both Stringfellow and his bandmate Jon Auer have recorded some amazing solo material outside of the Posies banner, too. This is an old song of his that he originally recorded with the band Saltine, but this lush version has a bit more impact than the original.

"Sometimes" by Howie Beck from Howie Beck
Cool mellow pop from an underrated Canadian. The keyboard part alone is incredibly hooky, and his lyrics are brilliant -- why say, "She wears her heart on her sleeve," when you can say, "She wears her heart like her skin?"

"Drilling" (P.O.S. Redo) by Minus The Bear from Interpretaciones del Oso
The original of this song is amazing (even in concert, which is no small feat considering the depth of crazy sounds that are going on), but P.O.S. does an incredible remix of this song, making it choppier in most places but still maintaining the slow building effect of the original.

Then how did you even watch this?

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Sat, 16 Jun 2007 06:30:00 +0000

My favorite internet comment from the last week comes from this video of the Beastie Boys at Sasquatch:

"when they played Sabotage, I think my head exploded."

Forget about your stance on defense spending -- how fast can you run?

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Fri, 25 May 2007 22:14:00 +0000

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the kind of thing that should be expected of all of our elected officials. Imagine Capitol Hill all full of Jack Bauers (and Jacqueline Bauers -- I'm no chauvinist). Awesome, right?

I never saw anything like this in Poor Richard's Almanack

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Fri, 25 May 2007 00:27:00 +0000

Every now and then I'll find myself engaged in conversation with someone, usually an older fellow or lady, who will say that the Internet seems to be full of useless junk. That the majority of information passing through this great series of tubes is nothing more than smut and electronic diaries chronicling what people's cats ate for lunch. That the World Wide Web has dumbed down our culture, or at the very least our children and their culture to come. That the Internet is a waste of time and energy.

"Okay," I'll say, in order to play along with these naysayers. "Then where else, pray tell, would I have found out how to make a chocolate bar in the shape of Han Solo encased in carbonite?

That usually stops the discussion dead in its tracks.

Also, to report your card as lost, call the number on the back of your card

noreply@blogger.com (Grant) — Tue, 22 May 2007 19:56:00 +0000

A couple of months ago, Heather and I started banking with a new bank because their interest rates are incredible. We deposited $50 at the end of last year and now we have a yacht. Crazy.

The only downside of our new bank is that you don't get a paper checkbook. Consequently, we maintain a checking account with a credit union just in case we need to transfer money over there and write a check for some reason (for example: we've been transported to the year 1932 and need some consumer goods.)

The other reason I love the new bank is that they get the Internet. The credit union? Not so much. I just sent the credit union an email because I wasn't able to log into our online account manager. The response I received:

"We have received your e-mail request; however, due to security reasons, we are unable to process it at this time. This measure is taken for your protection and we ask that you re-submit your request using the secure e-mail option through Account Manager."

Oh, okay. I'll log into my account to send you a message telling you I CAN'T LOG INTO MY ACCOUNT. I don't know why I didn't think of that.