I Don't Know Much, But I Know It's YouTube

So Colin Meloy of the Decemberists threw down a gauntlet for reasons unknown to me. On his Twitter feed (is that what it is? a feed? a page? an account? or is it just his Twitter?), he asked fans to write a song about Linda Ronstadt and post them on YouTube. He'll select a winner and post it to his Twitter afountage. I'm a fan, so I figure I qualify.
It was fun to have a challenge to write a song like this, with no real expectations. I'm been up to my ears in writing and orchestrating some faux-Jacobean music for Stratford's production of Bartholmew Fair, so it was a nice treat to write something that comes a little more naturally like this. Being a Ronstadian scholar and all, you know.

woke up new with tobias wolff

How great is this?

Testing 456

Well, between my new Blogger account, and trying to pull the RSS over to Facebook (to? from? near?), I'm trying to figure out how to post photos inside the blogs.  I see over here on Blogger that there's a button for photos.  Shall I click it and see what happens?  Yes, of course I shall.  If it doesn't post in the RSS feed, then I'll have to (after banging my head against the wall) go back and upload them to my Flickr account and link to them from here.  

Wow.  That's a whole lot of corporate social media brand-names in one sentence!  Let me throw some more in just for fun:  Google! Delphi! Prodigy! Compuserve!

What you should be seeing is a picture of the Texas plates we ordered on our trip to Rochester yesterday.  Picked up a cute little Fender Mustang bass at the dusty, disorganized and awesome House of Guitars, and worked up quite an appetite which was quickly vanquished by the Texas Hots Plate at Tacis Irondequoit Hots across the street.  Although it didn't seem to live up to my long-ago memories of Nick Tahou's Garbage Plate, it wasn't 1am, I wasn't drunk, and I wasn't 23.  Still it was probably not that different. I'm sure purists will flame, but welcome to Web 2.0. The plate consisted of two very good hot dogs (local Zweigles), split and griddled to perfection, home fries (the deep-fried chunky kind, not my favourite style) and macaroni salad, covered in mustard, onions and what they call hot sauce - a ground beef deal that seems not too far off from Cincinnati chili, another of my favourite food blogging topics.  

In short, I should have not gone with the mac salad - it didn't do much for the plate, and just added a lump of something cold.  I guess it might be the standard choice, because it's what the dude behind the counter offered me, as in "home fries and macaroni?" Like the locals?  Like, if you don't want to seem like a martian?  What was I thinking in not ordering the baked beans?

We each ate our hot dogs and the sauce and picked at the other bits a little before heading back home and rolling around clutching our bellies.  Who's got bets on me hitting 220 again before this year is over?