The accidental completist

There was a time when, if I loved one album by a band, I often felt compelled to get the rest of the band's catalog. But even back when I listened to a lot of pop-punk, I showed some restraint. I still don't have all of Screeching Weasel's records (their debut album and Wiggle have never made it into the library) or NOFX's albums (I have almost every release between Ribbed and The Decline).

Now with authors, there are a few that I want to read everything he or she has written. People like Chuck Klosterman and Greg Kot are some of those distinguished few, but kind of partially by accident, I have almost every Stephen King book published.

Trust me, it wasn't planned to be this way.

For years, I only owned two Stephen King books: On Writing and Cell. In the last three months, as you know from reading this blog, the number of King books in my library has skyrocketed. As in, I'm down to only a handful of books of his that I don't have.

Basically, the library grows a little like this: be at a Borders or Barnes & Noble and just happen to swing by the horror section and/or the bargain shelves. Lisey's Story? Never heard of it, so let me read the jacket. Sounds like something I'd like. This hardback copy is only seven dollars? I'm sold.

With a trip to a Half Price Books, it's like this: Oh, a first edition, hardback copy of Carrie? Nice. And it's less than eight dollars? Sweet. Oh, and there's a near-mint hardback copy of From A Buick 8, The Dark Half, and Dolores Claiborne for only a dollar each? Sold.

That's not exactly how things have gone down, but that's the gist of how this all happened.

So, by default, I've become a Stephen King completist. And any time I say I have enough King to read, there's another King book I see for dirt cheap.

Look at it this way: there are many, many worse things to get addicted to. Be it Jersey Shore or heroin, at least I'm reading and getting inspired with my second book.

I order pizza about seven nights a week

Last week, I blogged about Domino's Pizza's new "turnaround pizza." As luck would have it, I got to try some of the new pizza over the weekend.

Due to proximity of a Domino's to where my nieces celebrated their third birthday (it was next door), I, along with a handful of parents and a dozen toddlers got to taste this pizza. Yes, a pizza that's been fifty years in the making, and consulted by Twitter feeds and focus groups, got to enter my hungry mouth.

And my verdict? The pizza is an improvement over the original recipe, but aside from the buttery crust, I think if you served somebody who didn't know the pizza was from Domino's (and didn't know there was a new recipe), he or she would not know a major difference. I liked what I had (a few pepperoni, a few cheese, and one hamburger) and I would have no problem having the pizza again.

But for me, the true test was seeing how well the pizza worked as leftovers. I despised leftover pizza when I was younger, but I've grown to accept it in the last few years. I had a few slices I brought home for dinner last night, and I still liked the pizza. I wouldn't say the slices improved in taste over the two days in the fridge, but I would not say I was repulsed by it.

Aside from Pizza Inn and CiCi's, I have yet to find a pizza I'm repulsed by. But if I was in charge of choosing a pizza from a national chain, I'd go with the quality that is Papa John's. If somebody else ordered Domino's, I wouldn't object and I would eat the pizza. How's that for being flexible and a pizza lover?

Written In Reverse

It's only January, and probably one of the biggest musical surprises I've had is from a band I've known about for twelve years: Spoon. Yup, their latest, Transference, is really rocking my mind. And I'm quite sure to say the record will be on my year-end favorite list.

In no way do I claim bias because of a certain lineup change that happened when their previous record, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, was recorded. Rather, something about the band started really click for me then, and Transference is a logical payoff.

Maybe it's just my ears, but what has often eluded me about Spoon's music is the lack of a big chorus. I have yet to hear a song that just ripped into a distortion-filled chorus while Britt Daniel plays an open-G chord that's backed by angelic harmonies. Nope, the sparseness of the band's sound has always been front and center. You have to listen closely to hear the nuances, which is the beauty of the band's catalog.

I can recall standing outside of Jason's first party at our house almost six years ago, hearing "Me and the Bean" and quickly wondering who sang this song. But I can also remember going through Girls Can Tell, A Series of Sneaks, and Kill the Moonlight and waited for a song to really grab me as hard. Yes, I know that's sacrilege to say to a hardcore Spoon fan, but that's been my story.

Now it looks like the story has a nice post-script.

The Walking Dead

More information is trickling through about Frank Darabont's forthcoming television adaptation of The Walking Dead for AMC. As somebody who has never read the comic book or watched a single TV episode on AMC (meaning, I've never seen an episode of Mad Men or Breaking Bad), I will watch this. And I will watch this just because Frank Darabont is on board as writer, director, and executive producer.

I credit Darabont's passion for his projects (watch any of the documentaries on his movies or listen to any of his commentaries to understand) for why I will give this tale of post-zombie apocalypse a chance. Even when he made something that a lot of people dismissed (The Majestic), his desire to make something worthwhile and enjoyable is pretty obvious right away.

Still, I'm not entirely sold on checking out the half-dozen trade paperbacks that collect the Walking Dead series so far.

There have been times that I've tried to read a celebrated graphic novel or trade paperback and I just don't get what the fuss is about. But if translated onto the screen with a genuine craftsman, that opinion could quickly turn around. Zack Snyder's take on Watchmen was an immense help for me with understanding the legacy of the comic book. I hope Edgar Wright's take on the Scott Pilgrim series does the same.

I think my enjoyment of comics works best when there is one definitive story that can put into one trade paperback or graphic novel. I have yet to stay with a series that just goes on and on and on, like Brian Michael Bendis's Powers. So that probably explains why I'm a fan of stuff like Blankets and Box Office Poison.

All I can say now (the pilot has been greenlit, but no word just yet if it's going to series), I look forward to what will come of this.

The Dryer Wars IV: No World for Tomorrow

I hope something in the universe doesn't treat this as a way to torture me after I post this, but it looks like our dryer woes have come to an end. They actually came to an end a couple of weeks ago, but I was hesitant to say they were over because I thought they had been over a couple of times before. Now I'm pretty sure. As in, 95 percent sure they're done, leaving 5 percent to the possibility they aren't.

In our entire cast of repairmen that came out to work on our problem, the second electrician was the one who saved the day. He also saved the day the last time, but it looks like his fix has fixed the problem for good.

The problem? Wiring in the circuit breaker. One of the wires used to have a white coating, but it sure wasn't pure white anymore. There were some small burn marks over certain spots, giving us the impression that some sparks flew. So the electrician just put the wire into a different spot on the breaker and everything has worked fine since.

If I've learned anything more since the last time I wrote about this, it's that I should keep quiet about things that get fixed for at least six months. It's like the rule of thumb I have for friends who want to quit smoking or drinking: don't make your decision to quit public until at least six months have passed. Too often, that journey on the path gets derailed and you're back on the wagon.

Believe me, I love talking about the things that are going right in my life. I just tend to find things go haywire when I make a big public announcement about it. We're talking the epitome of knocking on wood here. And that's frustrating.

Turn around, pizza eyes

If you've watched any NFL football game in at least the last month, you've seen Domino's newest ad campaign. Taking longtime criticism of their pizza to heart, they believe they've come up with a better-tasting pizza. A "turnaround" pizza as it has been called. Folks in the Onion's Chicago office recently tried it and gave their verdicts. And I got hungry. Not specifically for Domino's pizza, but for pizza in general. I still eat pizza every week, so it's a good excuse.

In the case of the turnaround pizza, I have yet to try it. Matter of fact, I can't recall when I last ate Domino's or Papa John's. Aside from a mini-party at my office a few months ago where Pizza Hut was delivered, my consumption of national chain pizza has been very small.

Alas, there was a time when I didn't eat small, frozen, made-for-one pizzas courtesy of DiGiorno's.

In my family, Sunday was the day to eat pizza. When we lived in New Orleans, we ate at Godfather's Pizza. When we moved to Houston, we ate at the closest Godfather's until the closest one moved twenty-five minutes away. We switched to Pizza Hut and ate that for years until my sister said she didn't like Pizza Hut anymore. There were flings with Little Caesar's here and there. Then we moved onto Papa John's, but then college came along and my sister and I left the nest. I moved onto having CiCi's buffet and a few deliveries from Papa John's and Pizza Hut here and there. Eventually I just hunkered down with DiGiorno's when I decided I didn't want to wait for pizza to be delivered and didn't want to have a lot of leftover pizza in the fridge.

Since I moved out and my sister moved out, I don't know if my parents still eat pizza on a regular basis. These days, if we do get together and eat pizza when I'm in town, it's at my sister's house with her family and our parents. Knowing that my nieces love pizza, I doubt our loose family tradition will stop.

But between a lot of family dinners, there were many pool parties and birthday parties that had Domino's. Matter of fact, I tend to associate Domino's with all the times in the mid-1980s when I didn't have Godfather's. Yet somehow Pizza Hut came from behind later in the 1980s and claimed first place and really hasn't weakened since. I guess we can thank advertising for that one.

Still, my consumption of pizza has no signs of letting up. I have no objection to trying Domino's new recipe. Then again, I didn't hate their old recipe. I wonder if people who loved the old recipe are up in arms about the change. Shall wait and see. Until then, I'm hungry for some pizza.

Chili and donuts

This past weekend, I experienced two different movies that I responded to in exactly polar opposite ways: Black Dynamite and Rob Zombie's Halloween 2. I had considered watching Halloween 2 a few hours before Black Dynamite, but I chose to watch them on different nights (Black Dynamite on Saturday night and Halloween 2 on Sunday night).

Boy did I make the right call with that one.

I will admit that I was really excited to see Black Dynamite while I had more of a curiosity in seeing Halloween 2. I mean, while I have a lot of hostility towards remakes in general, Zombie's first Halloween is quite good (and Richard really, really liked the theatrical version of H2). Knowing that the unrated, director's cut of H2 is what you get on DVD, I figured this was closer to what Zombie wanted in his mind instead of the studio's. Can't go wrong there, right?

Well, what Zombie had in mind wasn't exactly what I had in mind for something I'd like to purchase, let alone watch again.

I admire how the film is just brutal and doesn't rehash the beats from the previous film. But because the film is almost 100 percent bleak, I can't say that's what I'd want to watch again. I'm not somebody that must have happy endings to be good or rewatchable, but H2 felt like being in the UFC Octogon for fourteen rounds (instead of three) with no flash KOs, submission, or TKOs allowed.

Still, I'm glad I watched that to reflect on the exact opposite from the previous night.

I went into Black Dynamite hoping that it would be the blaxploitation equivalent to the genius slasher spoof, Student Bodies. As great as its trailers were, this was bound to be a favorite of mine. Putting such high stakes on the potential greatness was worth it, at least in my eyes.

After seeing a midnight screening at the Inwood, I can't begin to tell you how incredibly funny and smart this film is. If you thought the trailer was good, the whole thing rewards you aplenty.

Black Dynamite is a fast-paced, mocking-but-loving spoof of blaxploitation films from the 1970s, like Superfly, The Mack, Dolemite, and so on. There are plenty of visual gags, musical gags, Fourth Wall winks, smart plays on words, and a restaurant that specializes in chili and donuts. Yes, chili and donuts.

Seeing the film with a full capacity crowd that really wanted to see the film definitely added to the enjoyment. That experience was certainly different than seeing Halloween 2 at home by myself.

I didn't expect two completely different movies to have the polar opposite effect on me, but that's what happened. I like those little epiphanies in life, and look forward to the next one.

Don't take her, she's all I got

When I watch a movie that I find unsatisfying, I find plenty of satisfaction when that movie introduces to me a great song that I had never heard before. That makes for the overall experience to be a positive thing, even if I don't plan on watching that movie ever again.

A few years ago, I was introduced to a wonderful song by the Kinks that was from their mid-1970s period called "God's Children." The song was used in a beautiful-looking movie that was filled with flat attempts at humor and mostly one-note characters: American Fork. Since seeing that, "God's Children" has become one of my favorite Kinks songs, right along with songs like "Waterloo Sunset" and "When I See That Girl of Mine."

So, I thank the filmmakers, but wonder what I learned in those other 85 minutes. I'm still in the dark on that one.

Anyway, I watched Mike Judge's Extract over the weekend, and would give it two-and-a-half-stars. Since Netflix only goes by whole numbers, I decided to rate the film with only two stars. Of course, that comes up as "Didn't like it," but that's not entirely true. I loved the opening shot featuring a country song I had never heard of (and have since listened to dozens of times): Johnny Paycheck's "(Don't Take Her) She's All I Got."

As I have partially joked over the years (including on a country station I used to be on where I could let my short hair down), I find a lot of country music as pop music played in the wrong key. Something about the way country singers sing, the lack of arresting melodies or harmonies, and the abundance of twang just has never set right with me. Yet I have no problem listening to country-influenced rock acts like My Morning Jacket, Ryan Adams, and the Jayhawks.

Like the other relatively old school country song that I like ("Amarillo By Morning" by George Strait) I have to thank the simple, climbing I-IV-V chord progression under the verses. Two or three chords can totally change the vibe of a song for the better or the worse. Thankfully, "She's All I Got" has the right ones.

So even though I didn't find the whole movie a joy, at least I now have a great Johnny Paycheck song in my iTunes library, and I know more about him other than "Take This Job and Shove It."

And why does the library keep growing?

To bookend yesterday's post: why keep buying all these Stephen King books? Well, I have LOST to thank, as well as the Harry Potter books.

One of the biggest, most rewarding elements of watching LOST and reading all seven Harry Potter books is how there's a great human story combined with lots of payoff for those paying attention to details. You are rewarded for rewatching an old episode or re-reading a passage based on what you know happens later.

In other words, this stuff isn't just meant to be a standalone venture. If you're a fan, you'll be rewarded handsomely.

As somebody who likes seeing references doubling as Easter eggs, Stephen King's body of work is filled with them. That's why I wanted to pick up the entire Dark Tower series, as well as books like It, The Stand, and The Tommyknockers. Sure, you can get plenty out of just reading the books by themselves, but there's a lot going on with canon and continuity that you can't help noticing. That's why I get a kick out of seeing Arnette, Texas be referenced in "The Monkey" and The Stand. I like that Randall Flagg shows up a lot in different books. And I've got no problem seeing the towns of Hartford, Castle Rock, and Derry be repeated.

I can accept the criticism that this kind of minutiae is trivial, but I don't think it's trivial at all. Seeing that kind of stuff is further proof that the author really cares for those hardcore fans while also understanding you can't please everyone.

So yes, paying attention to the little things in life does help.

And the library keeps growing

One of the things that Jason was kind enough to leave behind when he moved was an entire wall of empty bookshelves. These are short shelves that are attached the wall, and they've served as a way of keeping track of which books I have yet to read. (If I put all of my read and unread books together, I'd lose track of the unread ones.)

The deal is, my ongoing love of collecting (and reading) Stephen King hardbacks has ballooned into a full shelf and soon, two full shelves.

But how many of those books have I actually read? Well, I'm actually in the middle of reading A.J. Jacobs' fantastic The Year of Living Biblically after reading a number of short stories from King's Skeleton Crew collection. I want to pace myself here: read something by King, then read something by somebody else. I don't want any burnout here. And I want to read all of these books in a reasonable timeframe.

My new year resolution is still intact: I am reading more pages everyday compared to last year. Thankfully I'm reading something right now that I really enjoy and look forward to finishing (hopefully) this week.

What's funny about the growing number of unread King books is mainly due to my experience in hunting for rare books and CDs. If you see a copy of something you've never seen anywhere else and you want it, definitely get it then and there because there is very little guarantee that it's going to be there the next time you come to the store. So the fact that these King hardbacks are more than half price off and I'm not losing my proverbial shirt in the process, I figure it's a no-brainer.

What's even funnier is how easily tempting it is to pick up a King book found in a clearance shelf at a Borders, Barnes & Noble, or Half Price Books. I choose to pick up the books that I find interesting rather than go totally based on other people's opinions about what to read and what avoid. When stacks of From a Buick 8 are in good condition for one dollar a pop, I can't say no.

That said, I have taken some advice on books to read and which ones to avoid. Frankly, as much as I appreciate the advice on what to avoid, I enjoy picking up and reading books that sound enticing so I can form my own opinion. Maybe I should start a separate blog on this whole quest.

Astoria

This week's edition of the A.V. Club's Q&A is on pop-culture pilgrimages. As I read it today, I thought of a funny little pilgrimage that relates to something I've never shared here. Nevermind the Bottle Rocket tour I took a few years ago or the desire to hit up the Texas town where The Last Picture Show was filmed. No, this is something completely different.

Back in 1996, while on family vacation in London, I expressed an interest in checking out the London Astoria club. Sure, I wanted to see the Tower of London, Big Bend, and so on, but this was a personal desire to see this place.

The reason why? A few months before, Metallica played a warm-up gig at the Astoria before playing a huge festival. I didn't want to go to a show there. I just wanted to see the venue, take a picture, and leave. Yes, my fandom of Metallica led me to have such a desire. (I also picked up their new record, Load, at the Tower Records in Picadilly Circus.) My sister didn't understand why I would ever want to go there and see this, but there are many things she will never understand about me. Thankfully, my father was kind enough to accompany me to the club.

I remember it was quite a hike to get there and I think I spent maybe a minute looking at the place. I took a couple of pictures and moved on. What I find so funny is that many years later, I found one of the pictures and looked at one of the bands that was on the marquee: none other than Jawbox.

I never got the pleasure of seeing Jawbox play live, but the coincidental nature of being so close to seeing the band live seems like something out of Donnie Darko. It's like my present self somehow caught a glimpse of my future self, and it was no mere accident.

I, as usual, could be reading way too much into this, but it does make for a good story. If I did see Jawbox at the Astoria, I highly doubt it would have a huge impact on me because I really got into their final record at the end of 1996. If I didn't have the desire to see them in summer of '96, I would not have had any desire to get any meaning out of seeing them.

This is why I argue about choosing to get into something when you feel drawn to, not when other people think you're supposed to. I could have read Stephen King back in middle school, but getting into his stuff now has made a much bigger impact on me. The same goes with Richard Hawley's music. I don't get to choose when I get really attached to a band, author, of film that I want to devour as much as I can. This stuff happens, and I argue that it happens naturally.

It will get loud

As I mentioned before the holiday break, I have a new band going. What thankfully happened over last weekend was a jam session where we could play as loud as we wanted to. We rented a room out for the afternoon and just let everything out. And it was fantastic.

This said, I would not trade the months of working on song ideas at a manageable volume level. The three of us learned to lock in with each other by hearing everything we did. Now with the recent practice, we were able to take things many steps up.

I have the attitude that if you're in a rock band, you have to play like you're in a rock band. Dynamics are important, yes, but if you're going to wimp out on the drums when it's time to let loose, then you're doing a disservice to everyone in your band.

So when I was asked to play quieter in a mostly-rock back-up band situation a few years ago, I adjusted my style. I thought it seemed to work fine, and the other band members told me I was doing a great job. But after being reassured multiple times that my playing was fine, I was irked (and still irked to this day) when I was unceremoniously fired from the band supposedly for playing too aggressively. (Since I never got a direct answer why, I'm not sure I'll ever know why.)

But trying to move ahead, I relish the chance to play with guys who like things loud and encourage me to play my heart out. I find that things work best when things are encouraging rather than discouraging.

I'm working, but I'm not working for you

So, I thought I would never blog about my dryer again. In the words of Mike Ness, I was wrong.

Well, after a couple of breaker flips between the time I thought everything was back working and last night, we're having almost the same problem. Start a load in the dryer, the dryer light is on, but only see the dryer stop working a minute later and the dryer light turns off. Flip the breaker a few times, and the dryer light comes back on. Start the dryer, it runs. Then it stops working a minute or so later. Flip the breaker again a few times, and the light comes back on. Run the dryer again, it runs, and then it stops working.

I know there are bigger things in life to get angry about, but I was about to start acting like Jack Bauer last night.

After getting five (yes, five: two were from electricians, one was a washer/dryer repairman, one from my landlord, and one from my father) different opinions on what the problem is, I think it's safe to say that there is some form of disconnect between the wiring and the timer switch. Depending on who gets asked, the diagnosis is hazy. Repairmen come out, they get the dryer back on, but right as they're getting ready to leave, the dryer shuts off. It's like the dryer is quoting a great Superchunk lyric: "I'm working, but I'm not working for you."

The second electrician that came out a month ago will make a trip tomorrow, and I will not let him leave until a full load of laundry successfully runs from start to finish.

It's funny, it's like this dryer issue is something out of Stephen King story, be it "The Mangler" or "The Monkey." But unlike those stories, I haven't seen where the last page is.

A Doomed Moviethon (Mostly European Edition)

I've mentioned this before, but since it's mainly his project, my friend Richard recently gave us the scoop on his upcoming European horror film book. I have already written a few reviews and articles for the book, but the idea for spotlighting horror flicks from the first decade of the 21st century is Richard's.

I'm always up for recommendations on horror flicks, and agreeing to do this project has introduced me to some great films I had never heard of. For every great, widely-known one like The Descent, there's also gems like Severance and Creep. Sure, not every film that I've reviewed is great, but we want to at least expose people to modern horror flicks that aren't crappy remakes of horror classics.

Right now, the book is like a guide for people who like horror films, but tend to get dissuaded by the news about another film that shouldn't be remade getting remade. While no amount of whining will stop remakes getting made, there's still a lot of great, original American and European horror flicks getting made. In the case of this project, folks from across the pond are getting some well-deserved attention, but we are definitely not the only ones who've taken notice.

Frankly, this is a chance to give a good summary of the first decade of the century and provide some good recommendations.

For me, I like the challenge of writing something that has nothing to do topic-wise as POST or When We Were the Kids. I've liked horror films for quite a long time, so people who have known me for a while are not surprised. I look forward to having a finished result by the beginning of next year, so stay tuned.

A resolution that is possible to keep

I'm not that big on making resolutions in the New Year, but there's a resolution I have really no excuse in not doing: reading more!

Too often, I find when people make a big announcement about trying to change something big in their lives, they never get to it. They start entire blogs, bring the topic up at parties, and so on. But whether it's losing weight or quitting smoking, they don't follow-through. I'm no different, so I'm a little hesitant to make any announcement unless I'm 100 percent committed.

Right now I'd say I'm 90 percent committed to this one.

One of my resolutions last year was something I hoped I could do, but wasn't totally committed to doing: watching all of the DVDs I had never seen on a flatscreen on on my then-new flatscreen TV. Shortly into trying that, I realized that yes, everything looked bigger and better, but that was expected. So I went ahead with watching movies and TV shows in widescreen all the time and have not looked back.

But with reading, based on how non-busy my daily life is compared to others, I really have no excuses. Almost every week, I get GoodReads updates from blog pals like Jeff and Donna about what all they've read lately, and they have way more things on their plates than I do. Still, they have the time to read entire books in no time. I don't have the excuse of raising a family or working more than 40 hours a week, but I do have the excuse of being a slow reader. But I did read Carrie Fisher's Wishful Drinking in one sitting and Craig Thompson's Blankets in one sitting last year.

I think my goal can be reached by agreeing to a few terms:
1) Spend more time reading a book than checking Facebook every half hour for updates.
2) If I'm not totally pulled into a book and it's just trudging along, set that one back on the shelf and read another one. I've got plenty to choose from.
3) This is reading for pleasure and not for a grade, right? Then don't be held to the rules and expectations that were bestowed by high school and college teachers about understanding plot, character motivations, symbolism, rising action, and themes that professors have written entire books about . . . all in one reading. This is supposed to be fun, right?

There's the challenge I've set for myself. And it couldn't come at a better time as Stephen King collection just keeps growing and growing.

Just Like the Rain

The new year is starting off on a great note in many ways. One of them is in reference to the music of Richard Hawley.

Somewhere in the archives of this here blog, you'll find a post about how crazy I went for Scott Walker's music after I picked up a copy of 5 Easy Pieces at the closing Tower Records in Dallas. Well, I wouldn't say right now that my love for the dark crooner pop of Mr. Walker is as intense for Mr. Hawley's chamber pop, but it's quite strong.

The deal is, Richard Hawley is by no means a new name for me. It's just now that I've decided to jump into his stuff.

A few years ago, while at a birthday party for my friend TJ, a lot of Hawley's songs came up on the iPod set up to the stereo. I was quite taken with the songs I heard and talked with a few people about his music.

The deal is, I've experienced quite a few times when songs sound great while dancing or at a party, but the impact isn't the same when you're sitting at home on your computer. So that played into my hesitation towards picking up any of Hawley's records. But when my friend Evan posted a video for "The Ocean" this morning on Facebook, I figured it was time to revisit this stuff.

Based on what I've found already, this live clip of "Tonight the Streets Are Ours" from Later . . . with Jools Holland is highly recommended.

So here's to a great new year, so far.