Platinum memories

As of noon last Friday, Platinum 96.7 is no longer on the DFW airwaves. I, being completely honest and not having a tongue anywhere near my cheek, will miss this station. Even though a friend of mine in the industry jokingly called their format "wrist-cutting music," I was quite partial to the format.

For those that aren't from the DFW area, Platinum was a soft rock station. Playing stuff like America's "I Need You" to James Taylor's "Handy Man" to Carole King's "It's Too Late" to Elton John's "Daniel," this was the kind of format that I listened to as a kid while riding with my mother in our Cadillac. There was Barbra Streisand, Neil Diamond, and some Motown throw in as well as many one/two-hit wonders from the 1970s.

The station featured some radio talent I had worked with in my time in the area. Some of them I've kept up with thanks to the wonders of Facebook. So it wasn't fun to hear about them losing their gigs on Friday. Since they've gone through format switches and what-all before, they will land on their feet somewhere else.

But still, I'm really getting the sense that the soft rock format is going the way of the dinosaur. I know, I know, there are target demographics that pay the bills, and the demos are usually younger, but I don't even know if HD radio or satellite radio has such formats. As much as I've loved what I've heard on HD and satellite radios, I'm still quite hesitant to jump in with either.

Like the lite rock format and the smooth jazz, the soft rock format is pleasant to have on while you work. It's not too soft but it's not too loud. Even though I jam out to the Dillinger Escape Plan in my car, I can't really work my gig with it on.

So, aside from my extreme personal bias, I wouldn't be against the soft rock format popping up somewhere else in the area.

NX35

I covered a couple of NX35 shows this past weekend: here is my review of Fergus and Geronimo, and here is my review of the Black Angels. Both were at Hailey's, and one just blew my head off.

Staff Trax

This week in Staff Trax includes two tributes to Mark Linkous of Sparklehorse, while I mention the greatness that is the Jackie Brown soundtrack. Read the whole thing here.

Double blast beat workout

I like having regular routines, especially when it comes to exercising. But in the last few weeks, having any kind of routine has been problematic. The weather has been the main culprit, but there are others.

You see, when I run with Victory, it's not just a simple run of three miles; it's a turbocharged race.

As much as I love my dog, her hunting instincts can make her want to fly. Be it a cat, squirrel, or dog, if she senses one of them, she wants to see what's up. She doesn't want to throw down, but she does want to be seen on the radar. And that makes running/jogging into a thirty-minute test to keep up with her.

I do plenty of stretching beforehand, but I have some tightness in my shins from time to time. Couple that with weak knees the following day while I'm at work. With the weather being rainy and cold one day and sunny and warm a few days later, I've had to schedule a few things around the non-sunny days.

Now that band practice is back in session, I'm curious if playing intensely for two hours straight is considered a workout. I'm playing with my whole body, and I'm sweating up a storm as wood debris falls to our rehearsal room floor.

I'm not trying to get out of exercising here. I just want to have some more variety in my attempts to stave off obesity and laziness.

On the mend

The stitches came off yesterday afternoon, hence why there was no blog post. Unfortunately, I don't have complete control of my right hand just yet.

I got a call last week from the dermatologist telling me that all three of the moles removed were benign. No further surgery was required, and I just had to let these heal. Well, the one on my left leg is taking a little longer to heal, so I'm taking an oral medicine to help. Yes, healing moles through pills is possible.

I must admit that I can be a crabby bitch when it comes to medical procedures. Since I really don't know much about why certain procedures must be done (like stitches for one mole removed), I get as fussy as one of my three-year-old nieces get when it's bedtime and she doesn't want to go to bed. I don't scream bloody murder, but I do squirm and panic a little. That's natural, right? Well, I don't think it is for someone who lists himself as an adult on tax returns.

Until Friday, I have to have a light, but tight bandage over my right hand's scar. That's made some of my hand's flexibility difficult. I can make a fist again and I look forward to playing drums, but I'm still in the dark as to why I had to go through all of this in the first place.

Maybe if I stopped living one week at a time that this bitchiness will ease.

Staff Trax

This week's edition is available here. My pick this week was a happy accident on the way to finding Lifetime's self-titled record.

Gimme Stitches

One week ago, I couldn't use my right hand for twenty-four hours. As of this writing, I still don't have full control over my right hand. But I should be back to normal by next week. And I should be able to play drums again by then as well.

So, what happened? I got a mole removed from the back of my hand. Yes, one mole has sidelined me for almost two whole weeks.

I've gone through mole removal before, but I never had to get sutures for them to heal. Since this certain mole required a deep removal, these were needed to fully heal. Just thinking about stitches makes me squirm and makes me feel panicky about having to deal with them. But I wanted to address why I would agree to go through such a frustrating and slightly physically-painful, but incredibly mentally-painful procedure.

I've had moles all over my body for most of my life. There have been times that one will scab and fall off, but that's been the extent of things. I've thankfully never had one that grew out of control and turned all sorts of ugly colors. Yet this one on my right hand made me concerned for a few years. Seeing a dermatologist about this, he suggested removing this would be good, but not absolutely mandatory at this point in my life. Better to take care of this now rather than try to take care of this too late.

I was all onboard with getting some more moles removed (one on my back, as well as one on my left leg) until my doctor said "stitches" just for the one on the right hand. I panicked, and I still panic at the thought of stitches. Stitches leave life-long scars and I'm not one who likes to have scars anywhere on my body.

Probably the only way I talked myself into this was because I lost two great friends to cancer last year. One of them died a very, very tragic death at a relatively young age due to skin cancer. He was a wonderful man, and I was very upset to see him die that way. Since I want to stick around as long as possible, whatever I can do to help prolong my life, I'll do.

But I think this whole treatment has uncovered something I should work on: I don't really see beyond next week. I don't imagine myself dead at an early age, or anything like that. I just don't usually make many long-term plans or goals. Ever since I got laid off nearly five years ago, I've been hesitant to make such plans.

So when I tend to think only in the short term, of course the recovery period of a small procedure will seem like a big deal. Bigger than a possible, larger procedure.

As much as I hate the question of, "Where do you see yourself in five years?" it's good to at least imagine something in five years. I've imagined some things, but I don't want to feel let down if they don't come to fruition. That's just how I see things. And that's what getting stitches has done to my brain.