Archive for March, 2008

Here’s the latest of indie musicians to hit it big with song placement into a commercial. This time it’s Alice Peacock, born and raised in White Bear Lake, Minnesota, and now practicing her music out of Chicago.

A good friend of mine introduced me to Alice back in 2001, or so and I’ve followed her career ever since. Most recently I saw her perform live in Minneapolis.

Listen for her song, “Bliss,” on Hershey’s Bliss chocolate commercials, which began airing March 31. In this version, she duets with John Mayer.


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March Snowfall in Minneapolis

I don’t have my camera, but trust me…it’s snowing on March 31 in Minneapolis. Parts of the Twin March 31 SnowCities will receive eight inches of fresh snow before the day is complete.  Fortunately, the ground and pavement warmed up after a week of 40 and 50 degree temps.

The Star Tribune provides full details of the weather pattern circling this and several other upper Midwestern states. The good news is it’ll all be gone before we can watch the uncut version of “Fargo.”

In like a lion, out like a lion. We’ve been dealing with snow in the city since Dec. 1. That makes for four FULL months of winter people!


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I’m 195 pounds of flesh, bone, muscle and…sadly…a tad bit too much body fat hanging off my 6’2″ frame.  I’m also 42, which is not an excuse, but an explanation.

You see, at 39 and 40 I worked hard and built myself into really good shape. A proper combination of height, weight and musculature. It took effort – especially after growing up as the “heavy kid” in school. I vividly remember when I was 12 or so and my Mom bought my first pair of jeans with the “husky” label in the waist band. Ugh.

Flash forward 30 years and at 40 I was a svelt 182 pounds. My size 34 Levis were loose around my waist at that time and I liked it. I liked me at 13 percent body fat.  But is that realistic? I’m finding that just two years later, my goals should probably be reconfigured.

Even with regular fitness training including weights, cycling and running, I’m 15 pounds heavier and it shows! Sure, my diet isn’t as “clean” as I’d like it to be. Yes, I have an 8-5 job that keeps me glued to my desk chair five days a week. So the middle-age spread is upon me.  Do I accept it? Or do I fight it?

I’m a fighter.

As I sign myself up for several triathlons this season and perform the training regimen that needs to be undertaken in order to complete said tris without totally embarrassing myself, I find I’m eagerly looking forward to the hour I spend each day in the gym or on the pavement.  I have this innate desire to be leaner even if I can’t be that svelt 182 pound-13-percent-bodyfat guy again. Just to get where I can get from my personal effort – and, if I’m lucky, watch the chub melt from above my waist line and feel the firmness of my bicep or pectoral.

We live in a country where focus on body type is SO out there…so important. Ironically, America has also become one of the most obese nations on the planet. Slothy, lazy habits have replaced activities among our children and the best thing I can do as a Dad is serve as an example to my own two teens that no matter how old you get, it’s better to stay active and have fun doing it – so you can feel good about yourself and your accomplishements – and STILL enjoy the occasional plate of nachos when you feel like it.


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She says you’re a masochist for falling for me,
So roll up your sleeves.
And I think that I like her, ‘cuz she tells me things I don’t want to hear,
Medicinal tongue in my ear.

When will it stop? When will it stop?
When will I feel all soft on the inside?
When will I feel all soft on the inside?
When will I feel soft, soft?

You say that my skin feels like no one else’s,
That it’s different somehow.
But I don’t understand, isn’t a hand just a hand?
No you don’t understand.

When will it start? My broken part?
When will I feel all soft on the inside?
When will I feel all soft on the inside?
When will I feel soft, soft?


When will I feel all soft on the inside? When will I feel all soft on the inside?
When will I feel soft, soft?

She says you’re a masochist for falling for me.


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Friday Philosophies

I’m in a lyrical mood this morning. The sun is up, the sky is crystal clear. It’s the type of sky that couldn’t even be replicated in a painting. A sky blue sky that’s limitless.

This week I’ve listened to one CD and, more specifically, one song from that one CD.

The artist is Alison Scott. You can catch a glimpse of her music here. She’s a Minneapolis-based singer and song writer who performs with a jazz-rock-R&B sound. I first heard her music at the Dakota Jazz Club at an event I attended for displaced victims of Hurricane Katrina.

The song that continues to roll through my gray matter is from her CD, “Wish On The Moon.” I can’t find the song on YouTube, but here are the lyrics.

“Saturated,” by Alison Scott

All the lies and pain you hide have taken over.
You’re drowning away the memories just to forget her,
the way she left you stranded.
One more drink and you won’t have to think anymore,
You gave her everything you had and can’t remember what for.
All you need is time.

Time to heal, time to feel like everything is gonna be alright.
All you need is time to find that this pain you can’t
describe will wash away, a little more every single day
’til it’s gone, and you can move on.

Looking for answers in the bottom of a bottle that will never be empty,
Blaming yourself for problems that aren’t even worthy
of staying on your mind.
Wondering just what you did to drive her away,
but nothing you could have changed would’ve made her stay.
So take a little time.

I know it seems a broken heart is enough to end your life,
but someday soon someone will come along and make it right.
She’ll hold you and she’ll love you ’til the end of time.

But it won’t be long ’til you’re standing strong no pain in your eyes
You only have to give it one last try.
Time is on your side.


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I’m a blog thief today. This idea comes from gentiana from her blog “Headfile.”

Go ahead, try to come up with 10 really unique things that no one else is likely able to say they’ve done as well.

1) I cycled across the state of Iowa

2) I shook the hand of former Vice President Walter Mondale

3) I played slip and slide on a kitchen floor using pickle juice as lubrication (don’t ask)

4) I changed the points and condenser on a four-cycle engine

5) I parked an 18-wheeler in reverse at a loading dock

6) I played drums on “Proud Mary” complete with cowbell intro

7) I coordinated a pig race and exotic chicken exhibit at a county fair preview/media event

8) I flipped hamburgers backstage during a summer music festival featuring Big Head Todd and The Monsters

9)  I photographed Microsoft Founder Bill Gates while golfing (he was golfing, I don’t golf)

10)  I made an apple pie for my kids for Christmas


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Hillary Rodham Clinton apparently lives in a fantasy world – one in which she can make up the facts to suit her needs.

The most recent case is her recollection of a little plane ride into Tuzla, Bosnia 12 short years ago. As HRC recollects that visit abroad, she states on more than one occasion, that she dodged bullets and ran for cover with her head down when the plane landed.  Truth is, she was greeted on the tarmac by Bosnian leadership, U.S. military commanders and an eight-year-old girl who read a poem and gave Hillary a hug.  No sniper bullets zinging by her helmet-less head.

The New York Times covered the story and chain of events in details here.

Her campaign spokespeople are now back peddling on the story, explaining that as the plane was preparing to land everyone was “advised” that they would be landing in a dangerous area that might be prone to sniper fire. Hillary just mis-stated the order of events. Oh pul-eeze!

Are we so f-ing gullible that the Hillary campaign really thinks we’ll swallow this line of s*it? Does the Clinton campaign really think we believe that back in ’96 a plane full of U.S. dignitaries, including the first lady, would land in a hot zone and be at risk to sniper fire?

Sinbad and Sheryl Crow were at the party that day in 1996. Sinbad says his biggest fear was not knowing where his next meal was coming from while he was entertaining U.S. soldiers stationed in Bosnia.

I’m sure in Clinton’s head, she ate her share of MREs throughout the entire trip.

Yeah. Really.


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