The Startling Success...

They say a watched pot never boils? A watched pot also doesn't flare up and catch a tree on fire. This is pretty much 10 minutes of nothing exciting happening (no "hey, man...watch this!" moments, sorry), but dang, was that turkey good after it came out of the fryer...

Looking and listening...

No trumpets blaring, no horsemen on fire outside my window.

Time for everybody to realize this isn't the end of the world.

A reminder...

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

Reflections on a Monday night in Nashville...

Let's see...do I have any thoughts on the Titans' beatdown of the Indianapolis Colts on national TV Monday night? Maybe one or two...

Kerry Collins: Game Manager
Move the ball, move the chains, run the clock. You do those three things, especially in the second half and against an offense that's just begging to shake off it's doldrums, and you're gonna win some ball games. The facts are these: Kerry Collins hasn't had a 200-yard passing game this season, and his completion percentages is pretty average. But he's only thrown three picks and only been sacked once. He's doing what's being asked of him, and has the physical and mental skills to adjust his game to what the defense is giving him. Against KC, it was getting the ball to his rushers, allowing them to thrash the Chiefs for 300+ yards on the ground. Against the Colts, it was hanging in the short-step pocket, allowing the routes to emerge and finding his target and delivering the ball on target. He's the perfect quarterback for what this team wants to accomplish right now. The future will take care of itself.

7-0, could also mean 7-9
Look, a lot of phrases are being thrown around on the national level about this team: "game manager," "small market," "no-name defense." But Jeff Fisher's got these guys' heads in the right place. Kevin Mawae throwing up five fingers on one hand and two on the other to signify their seven wins is about as demonstrative a statement this team is going to make. I've been impressed with how they've approached every victory with the idea that all it does is guarantee that number of victories, that it could all fall apart from here and that you should never take a good start for granted (*cough*Vanderbilt*cough*)

Step on their necks
One of the hallmarks of the last time the Titans were this good was that you never knew if they could finish a game out without losing the lead they'd worked so hard for at least once. This time around, they're getting the lead and keeping it. The two-point conversion and the two consecutive fourth-down stops? All three plays were potential game changers, and the Titans came up big each time. They're playing with a tremendous amount of swagger on the field, and completely avoiding that swagger off it. The "We're not getting any respect" line you so typically hear from teams of this caliber? Nowhere to be found.

Most ridiculous line of the night...

Overheard during the hero worship of omnipresent Food Network personality Guy Fieri at The Jack last night: "You know, he's kinda like the Elvis of food."

Um...no.

He's more like the Sebastian Bach of food. Now Alton Brown...there's an Elvis of food, albeit Costello.

It all makes sense now...

Lowering the bar...

On the McCain camp setting expectations for tonight's debate exceedingly low, I paraphrase C.J. Cregg from "The Red Mass" episode of The West Wing:

"I can't believe how many times I get asked what would be a win in the debates. At this point I feel like if - and only if - [Palin] accidentally lights [her] podium on fire does [Biden] have a fighting chance."

Once more, into the fray...

Getting on a plane very early tomorrow to head to the Austin City Limits
Music Festival...join me, won't you? If you can't be there in person, follow
my micro-updates at www.twitter.com/tuneinlucas, check out my posts on
TuneInMusicCity.com, or listen to me on the nightly wrap-up shows on
Nashville's Independent Radio(tm), Lightning 100 (www.lightning100.com).

Posted by email from Lucas's posterous

This is why...

I profess my undying devotion to Aaron Sorkin:

"The people who want English to be the official language of the United States are uncomfortable with their leaders being fluent in it."

Though it does make me wonder is Maureen Dowd owes the NYT another column on her contract because Sorkin essentially wrote this one...

Seven years later...

Here's something I started writing September 12, 2002...

The line doesn't come as often as it once did, but occasionally I do say "Words are my life."

If only I could describe how many times words have actually failed me.

Like when I was driving an SUV down the Jersey Turnpike and I hear the words over the two-way, "Guys, you better turn on your radio. Something just happened in New York City."

You know how you start to use a phrase to describe someone, and it starts sticking, no matter what circumstance you're using it in, and even if the person you're talking to knows exactly who you're talking about? I'm pretty sure I've described Ed Rode to his wife as "my buddy Ed."

My buddy Ed called me sometime in the summer of 2001 to tell me about this freelance gig he was going to be part of, and wanted to know if I wanted to come along. I don't remember the date, but I remember taking the call. I was on my cell phone in the middle of Hickory Hollow Mall, fresh from a haircut and sort of wandering aimlessly, as I had no particular place to be that afternoon. Such is the life of a freelance writer.

He told me the story of the Williams Gas Pipeline Company and how they do this United Way fundraiser every year. This year, they were planning on being especially ambitious, putting together four teams to concurrently trace the company's pipelines across the country, riding the line as they called it, on bicycles. The shindig raised some $20 million-plus for the United Way, and Ed had been contracted to shoot still photography and create a website for the event. He was scheduled to shadow the ride's biggest group, some 80-plus riders, on their trip from New York to Houston.

And he needed a driver, which is where I came in. Oh, sure, we finagled some extra cash for me to write a few things for the site, but mainly I was a chauffeur.

As the gig got closer, Ed discovered that no one would rent him an SUV (we needed the room, and he needed to be able to shoot out the back) for a one-way trip from NYC to Houston. I jumped in with the suggestion that we rent the truck here in Nashville, I'd drive it up to New York, he'd fly in and meet me there, we'd do the trip, he'd fly back from Houston, I'd run up to Oklahoma to visit my folks for a few days and then drive it back to Nashville.

It was all falling into place. The vans that were ferrying the riders and their equipment around were in Harrisburg, Penn. the Saturday before we were scheduled to start on Monday. The plan worked like a charm: I'd drive to Harrisburg on Saturday, a piddling little 12-hour drive, and meet up with our Williams contact. We'd all caravan to the hotel we were staying at outside NYC, where everyone else (riders, Williams muckety-mucks and Ed) would come in on Sunday.

I remember very clearly standing in the parking lot of my apartment building, truck loaded, details taken care of (I checked the lock on my apartment door at least three times), and SUV door open, ready for me to hit the road. All that early September morning, some inexplicable feeling of dread had settled over me, and as I stood next to that door, one foot on the running board, I stopped and said a prayer asking God to watch over me, Ed and these people I was about to meet, that everybody would be safe, and the trip would be a success.

I got in the car, somewhat comforted, but still had this feeling that something bad was going to happen.

The ride up went without a hitch. I drove through a part of the country I'd never driven before, I listened to a lot of music, I made a few phone calls, and generally just enjoyed the ride, what with a new (albeit rented) SUV at my command and time on my side. I made it to Harrisburg in the early evening, and after hooking up with the Williams folks, running to a nearby grocery store for some last minute supplies (I had forgotten batteries, which to me is a good sign that I haven't forgotten something at home), and scarfing down a club sandwich (hotel food that never seems to satisfy) I went to bed.

The following day went like clockwork as well. The drive from Harrisburg to NYC was uneventful, and I got a good idea in my head of the kinds folks I’d be dealing with over the next week by listening to the walkie-talkie traffic of the seven vans of people in front of me. I was traveling in a non-trailer laden red SUV, so I volunteered to take up the rear of the caravan, and my vehicle became known as The Caboose within minutes, a name that would stick for the rest of the trip.

As we approached Manhattan, before veering off toward our hotel just over the river in The Meadowlands, I remember thinking, “I never thought I’d be driving a car where I could look out the window and see the World Trade Center.”

The rest of that Sunday, September 9, was relatively uneventful. The 2001 NFL season was kicking off that day, and from the window of our hotel room, you could look out and see Giants Stadium, where the Jets were playing their home opener. Ed and I cooled our heels in the room, plotting out the trip in our heads, checking our gear, watching some football and generally resting up for the big launch banquet later that night. The sit-down dinner kinda put a crimp in our plans to grab a cab and head into Manhattan to catch our newly-beloved Tennessee Titans that night on the screens of the ESPNZone in Times Square, but we figured we should probably stay with the group, meet the folks we were going to be spending the next nine days with, and of course, being the former newspaper geeks we are, we had to adhere to the unofficial Journalist’s Credo: free food tastes better.

Our wake-up call wasn’t especially welcome the following morning, especially since the Titans lost fairly spectacularly the night before. But we knew we needed to get our gear into the truck and have it ready to go by 5 a.m., because not long after that, we’d be pulling out, along with seven vans and trailers, to attempt to find parking spaces in lower Manhattan. We were kicking off the ride at the Today show, and everybody had to be there.

A quick trip through the Holland Tunnel, a couple of wrong turns and the first of many overpriced parking garages later, Ed and I made our way to the 30 Rock plaza where our group had gathered. Our spot on the show wasn’t going to be until the 8:30 half-hour, but by God, we were going to be there early if it killed us.

The spot went off without a hitch, Williams getting a good deal of free air time, great, let’s move on. We were due at another media event a few blocks uptown, but that still meant moving a lot of people and a lot of vehicles.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

And that’s where I stopped writing that day, one year and one day after the events. Because it was just too painful. And it still is, seven years later.

But the nutshell facts are these: I was in New York City the day before all this happened. Ed and I, and the 100+ people from scattered parts of the country, whom we’d just met hours before, were leaving Princeton, N.J. and rolling toward Philadelphia when it happened. We were standing on the deck of the U.S.S. New Jersey when the towers collapsed. From that deck we watched a stream of airplanes land quickly, in succession, at the Philly airport…and then nothing. We were supposed to have an event at the White House the next day.

I have a different perspective than most of the rest of the people I know, not because I was in downtown Manhattan the day before, but because I didn’t watch the coverage on TV. I only heard it on the radio, picking up scattered patches of NPR stations as we serpentined through rural Pennsylvania to get to our destination outside D.C. I didn’t see the now-iconic footage until early in the evening, just before President Bush spoke and just before the meeting that determined that we would continue on that trip.

And so, we became a caravan of wanderers, making our scheduled run down the east coast, along the Gulf and onto Houston 10 days later, mainly because there was no other expedient way to get home at the time. Sure, Ed and I could have veered off at any time, but we stayed, because we had a job to do.

Particularly schlocky fiction writers would wrap up the story with the ride into Houston and that we all remain close-knit friends to this day, having witnessed the triumph of the American spirit together. Fact is, other than Ed (and we keep trying to shake each other but CMT, the CMA and Jack Daniels, among others, keep throwing us in cars together), I’ve not seen or heard of any of those people again, especially since Williams got Enron-ed out of existence a few years back.

The fact is, I couldn’t wait to get away from the throng we’d traveled more than 2,500 miles with. Ed traveled to New Orleans to stay and decompress with friends before heading back to Nashville. And as soon as the festivities were over, I headed north up I-45, through the Metroplex, and into Oklahoma to my parents’ place.

My feelings of anguish and despair over what had happened 10 days earlier dominated my thoughts as I sped through central Texas, mirrored by the torrential rainstorm that hit just outside of Dallas. The storm stopped as I approached downtown, and with the familiar skyline to my right, I remember seeing the most amazing sunset, not because of its beauty, but because of the vivid ugliness – blacks, purples, midnight blues, fiery oranges – contained within. The sky, the spirit, the soul…all had been badly bruised and were going to take a long time to heal.

The specifics of those 10 days on the road have faded pretty much over time as well…mainly because I did get to witness the triumph of the American spirit, how resolve in the face of tragedy was unanimously shown in those dark days after, how denizens of small towns and big cities alike experienced and redirected grief in the exact same ways.

Those memories have faded because I’ve watched that unanimity be shattered, willfully and consistently, over the past seven years.

I grow increasingly weary of people saying we can’t afford to live in a pre-9/11 world anymore. And while there are aspects in which they are right, I know they didn’t see what I saw as we traveled from state to state over that week-and-a-half span. And I know we can’t afford not to live in that post-9/11 state of mind. And yet we do. Because of the bad decisions others have made for us.

So today, as happens on a lot of days, my heart goes out to those who lost their lives on that day. But as unimaginable as that horror was for them, for those still around, life in America has become a much longer and more sustained type of horror. Because there remains this sense that much of this never had to happen in the first place.

Because spelling is for elitists...

My friends, one thing I noticed during the RNC production was the sheer number of "hand painted" signs, especially during Gov. Palin's speech.

My friends at YesButNoButYes saw that my friends at NBC News caught a particularly apropos one for a brief second during Sen. McCain's acceptance Thursday night.


My friends, I've seen better spelling on signs at a WWE event. What does it say when a well-dressed, well-connected, well-funded attendee at a nationally televised event doesn't even bother to read the sign he's waving around like an idiot?

This or That: The Music Edition

OK, so it occurs to me that the occasional person stumbles into this neck of the online woods because they know me, but they haven't seen me for the better part of several decades for one reason or another.

Anyway, while not necessarily being a fan of the whole meme concept, there is one that I filled out a couple of years ago that might (but probably doesn't) shed a little more light onto what I've been doing with as a "grown-up" to this point. (Yeah, I laugh when I think about me as a "grown-up" too...)

That said...

1. The Beatles or The Rolling Stones?
I once referred to The Beatles as an "overachieving Liverpudlian skiffle group," a phrase that earned me a certain measure of respect from a huge Beatles fan and pop genius in his own right who shall remain nameless. That said, I also once turned down a $5 front row ticket to see the Stones at Vanderbilt.

2. Queen or The Eagles?
'Tis far better to hear a drunken karaoke version of "Bohemian Rhapsody" than to hear a group of drunken rednecks try to harmonize on "Seven Bridges Road."

3. Ozzy or Dio?
Pre-MTV badass Ozzy? Yes. Drunken buffoon "father of the year" Ozzy? Pass.

4. Iron Maiden or Judas Priest?
Priest.

5. Jimi Hendrix or Stevie Ray Vaughn?
SRV. I'm from Texas, sue me. The night before my last two finals in college, SRV was playing in my little college hick town. I weighed the two choices: "study" or "Stevie." I studied. Four months later, he's dead. I wish I'd gone to the show. I'd still have my degree *and* a kick-ass musical memory.

6. The Beach Boys or The Monkees?
I'm sayin' Monkees because (a) I can name all of them without thinkin' hard and (b) if I know what's good for me in the sweet lovin' department.
(Editor's note: this *was* from late 2005. Not sure if my latest attachment has a Monkees fascination or not...)

7. Steve Vai, Yngwie Malmsteen or Joe Satriani?
I'm going to continue to give Casey the respect he deserves for the following phrase: "That's like choosing between syphilis, gonorrhea, and herpes."

8. Led Zeppelin or The Who?
Tough call, but I'm goin' with The Who. As Pete Townshend would say, "Whad' you say...?"

9. Pink Floyd or Yes?
The third and fourth CDs I ever bought were Yes' "90125" and "Big Generator."

10. Queensryche or Rush?
Rush, simply because Geddy Lee guest-starred on the Bob and Doug McKenzie album...

11. Lynyrd Skynyrd or Creedence Clearwater Revival (CCR)?
Personal rule: No Skynyrd before 10pm. It's just safer that way. And what's up with Nashville crowds freakin' the freak out everytime "Sweet Home Alabama" starts up at a ballgame? I'll never figure that out.

12. KISS or AC/DC?
AC/DC never had a disco hit.

13. Nirvana or Pearl Jam?
Like it or not, "Smells Like Teen Spirit" changed everything.

14. Favorite Member of the Beatles?
Stu Sutcliffe

15. Favorite Member of the Who?
Thunderfingers. Entwhistle played a club gig in Nashville, and you could hear his soundcheck from outside...three blocks away.

16. Dark Side of the Moon or The Wall?
All in all, you're just another...band whose legend far outpaces your work.

17. Guns N' Roses or Motley Crue?
GnR, if only for the first few bars of "Sweet Child of Mine." How's that Chinese Democracy record coming along, Axl?
(Editor's note: Almost three years later, still no sign.)

18. Ratt or Quiet Riot?
Bang your head...metal health will drive you mad.

19. Bob Dylan or Eric Clapton?
Dylan, if only for "Blonde on Blonde" and "Live 1968." Now, though, just painful to try to listen to live. Willie Nelson kicked his posterior all over their joint minor league stadium tour.

20. Hair Metal or Heavy Metal?
Two very different sides of the '80s music coin. And it's a coin I spent a long time ago.

21. The Clash or The Sex Pistols?
The only band that matters.

22. The Mars Volta or Coheed & Cambria?
I reviewed the latest Mars Volta record last year, and it's an hour or so of my life I'll never get back. The others by default.

23. Black Sabbath or Deep Purple?
I have nothing to say about either band that is either relevant or true.

24. Randy Rhoads or Zack Wylde?
I have a lot of respect for Zack Wylde, but Rhoads was also a member of Quiet Riot. So there.

25. Aerosmith or Bon Jovi?
Aerosmith wins by a nose, simply because they brought Run DMC to a larger audience.

26. David Lee Roth or Sammy Hagar?
Sammy and Dave toured together a few years back. Sammy, who'd been playing with his band The Waboritas for several years at that point, delivered a tight, rockin' set that had the crowd on its feet the whole time. Dave, who'd hired the best Van Halen cover band he could find, opened with "Panama" and "Hot For Teacher" and lost the crowd's interest three songs in. Not sayin' Dave (or more precisely, the VH material he was on) was bad...I'm just sayin' Sammy's better. And you can threaten to kick my ass over this all you want...many have tried, all have failed.

27. Van Halen or Def Leppard?
Van Halen. Gary Cherone, however, is best left unmentioned.

28. Brian Johnson or Bon Scott?
Coin flip. Gotta love a guy who's official coroner's report reads "drank himself to death." But Brian Johnson is the voice of "Back In Black." I abstain.

29. Velvet Revolver or Audioslave?
Thing is, I was never a huge fan of any of the four bands that were distilled down to these two. Probably have to lean toward Audioslave on the point of pure musicianship.

30. Grace Slick or Janis Joplin?
Grace Slick wasn't even the best female singer in her band...that honor would have to go to Mickey Thomas.

31. Woodstock or Ozzfest?
Nope. Nein. No. Next.

32. Elton John or Billy Joel?
Billy Joel circa "Glass Houses." After that, I've no need for either.

33. Journey or Foreigner?
Strangely enough, I'm going with Foreigner. "Double Vision" is an underappreciated album.

34. Kazaa or Napster?
Direct Connect

35. Beastie Boys or Run DMC?
Who's house? Run's House!

36. Cinderella or Whitesnake?
Saw 'em both on the same bill in 1985. The headliner that night? Quiet Riot.

37. U2 or REM?
My only musical mark-out moment of 2005 came in Chicago the split-second "Vertigo" started at the United Center.

38. Motorhead or Metallica?
Both have done "Enter Sandman"...

39. Dream Theater or King Crimson?
My most favorite interview of 2005? Adrian Belew.

40. Boston or Blue Oyster Cult?
When I moved to Nashville, you could count on hearing at least one Boston song per day on 103-KDF. That said, I've got a fever...

41. The Cure or The Smiths?
Pass the razor blades, please...

42. Tom Petty or Dire Straits?
Petty is one of the most quietly charismatic frontmen you'll ever see. That said, "Sultans of Swing" is one of my top five songs of all time...

43. Jethro Tull or The Doors?
The winner of the first-ever Grammy for heavy metal? Tull, thus cementing forever the Grammys lack of relevance.

44. Poison or the Scorpions?
Greatest "Behind The Music" quote ever: "It went from the House of Whores to the House of Horrors." God love C.C. Deville.

45. Skid Row or Twisted Sister?
Twisted Sister, if only because Dee Snider had to testify before Congress.

46. Smashing Pumpkins or Radiohead?
Put it this way...if there had been no Radiohead, there'd be no Coldplay. And the world would be a better place for it.

47. Kansas or Nazareth?
"I heard a man saying something..."

48. ZZ Top or Blackfoot?
ZZ Top. I have the keychain to prove it.

49. Steve Miller Band or Marshall Tucker Band?
Steve Miller Band right up until "Abracadabra".

50. Ted Nugent or Peter Frampton?
For the life of me, I'll never figure out how Nuge hooked up with Jack Blades from Night Ranger and Tommy Shaw from Styx to form Damn Yankees. "Frampton Comes Alive"...overrated to be sure. But Frampton was also the music director/coach for the band Stillwater in "Almost Famous," and that redeems him greatly in my eyes.

The answers...

OK, chances are somebody's gonna stick their head in here, if they haven't already, that I haven't seen in nigh upon two dozen years, so pardon me while I answer the inevitable questions...

• No.
• Never have been.
• Can't really say.
• Not to my knowledge.
• After college.
• Too many to count.
• A lot, but really only a few close ones.
• A cat named Jake.
• No, it's just something I stumbled into.
• Yes. Very much so.
• Yes. Very much so.

Not quite monkeys with typewriters...

...but rather the Mythbusters guys with 1000+ paintball guns...



If this isn't "fine art" I don't know what is.

Yeah, I'm doomed...

Why? Because I weighed in on an idiotic discussion going on at TVNewser.com, talking about an on-air confrontation between MSNBC's Joe Scarborough and David Shuster.



Here's what I posted...

This is one of the most unprofessional moments I've ever seen on live television. Scarborough interjecting snide remarks over top of the (intended to be opinion-free, but seldom are) news segments of his show, and then hammering Shuster about his political affiliation (or lack thereof)?

It's truly a shame that the profitability requirements of television news (or more precisely, the inexplicable success of a particular enterprise) has caused everybody to think they have to pick a side and not deviate from it.

The only thing that's engendered is a distrust by the American people of journalism as a whole, the elevation of pinheads who can shout louder than the next guy, and a slew of unprofessional moments like this.

What will likely happen is that my remarks will get lost in the shuffle...but seeing some of the remarks of the trolls who live there, I'm halfway expecting some interesting emails.

Why do I do this to myself?