Uncle Fü® - ProfilesArchive

About Me

I like mornings. This was not always the case. My eyes still aren't quite used to the sunlight. It wasn't that long ago that I had my head firmly wedged in a place that doesn't get much of that.
My dog likes to bat carrots around the kitchen floor and bark at them.
"I look around at most of what seems to be valued and encouraged in our society and I think 'why the fuck would you want to do that.'" That's a quote from my mom, actually, who's 68 and rocks. I inherited her utter confusion with the status quo. It's served me... well, its served me.
I've just been dubbed a "metro-hillbilly" -(© 2007, Hollyriffic Heavy Industries, all rights reserved) and that seems as apt as anything. I have a mullet but I wear it on the inside. I've decided I like boots and that's that. I have been living in California's arborous Capitol city for nigh on seventeen years now which must surely make it home. I guess. I lived in Massachusetts from 0 until 18 and then ventured westward. I had a four year sojourn in the stark beauty of eastern Iowa which I would not trade for the world though it didn't go precisely as I'd planned.
Nothing has.
And that's good.
I miss both New England and the Midwest daily. I still consider myself a Bostonian but I suspect that's just to be difficult. As we might say back home, "Whatevah."

My Interests

My bike, my dog, my family who are oh so far away but present in my heart here now always, my incredible friends, my little house, my neighborhood, my SG and my Marshall 1/2 stack, my bench press, fitness, good local natural food (cooking it, eating it, sharing it with friends), local music, local artists, loud electric guitars (especially mine!), squonky saxophones, strong black single-origin shade-grown organic fair-trade coffee (especially from Temple!), ice cream... too much ice cream, cascading style sheets, punkin pie, local art and artists, finding myself again (or perhaps for the first time) as a musician and an artist, smart nice cute girls, cars without magnetic ribbons affixed to them, figuring shit out, smart nice cute girls who think I'm smart, nice and cute

I'd like to meet:

The perfect distortion pedal A 1978 Ibanez Iceman at a yardsale for $50 My old Frye boots that I threw out for no good reason People who truly know who they are (or are at least honestly trying to figure it out) and would like to get or give a hand along the way People who's cheese is not falling off of their cracker (implied in the above) Smart nice cute girls who think I'm smart, nice and cute

Music:

The complete list would be far too long so here's what's been goin' into the earbones this week in no order: Queens of the Stone Age, Ween, JS Bach, Red Host, Miles Davis, Velvet Underground, High on Fire, Rolling Stones, Wilco, Van Halen (no, really), Felix Mendelssohn, Ricky Berger, Jackson Griffith, Cartoon Oil, Led Zeppelin, Dungen, Me, Kiss, Harvey Milk, John Coltrane, John Scofield, Tapes n' Tapes, Built to Spill, My Bloody Valentine, Slayer, Tom Petty, Elf Power, Ted Nugent (its a buttrock thing. don't ask), Yo la Tengo, Dinosaur Jr. Uhh, that's all I can remember.

Movies:

Everything Coen Brothers. Idiocracy, Jim Jarmusch, John Waters, Terry Gilliam, Paul Thomas Anderson, Lasse HallstrÃ¶m, Werner Herzog...

Television:

Nope.

Books:

In High School, Vonnegut did for me what they told me Salinger was supposed to do. Tom Robbins, Edward Abbey, David Foster Wallace, David Sedaris, John Kennedy Toole, Hunter S. Thompson, Richard Brautigan (Not that I'm obsessed with writers who punched their own ticket, mind you. They just seem to have a predispostion.), David Sedaris...

Heroes:

Marcel Duchamp, Eleanor Roosevelt, John Coltrane, that Woman in my building who wears the crazy clothes and doesn't care what anyone thinks - she's fearless, Lester Burnham, Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., You.