Playing music Saturday at the J-ville Good Bean, 5pm. Could be loud. Will be fun. Probably unrefined.

Playing music Saturday at the J-ville Good Bean, 5pm. Could be loud. Will be fun. Probably unrefined.


Who will win the inaugural #southeroregon  #battleofthebeards ?
 #roguevalley #oregon

Who will win the inaugural #southeroregon #battleofthebeards ?
#roguevalley #oregon


#destruction comes to #roguevalley #mfr #oregon #pnw #southeroregon

#destruction comes to #roguevalley #mfr #oregon #pnw #southeroregon


An Open Letter to Dave Eggers

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This is an open letter to Dave Eggers, the author of The Circle. I just finished your book and wanted to say a few words. To the anyone who isn’t the author, maybe I’ll give away something from the story that may spoil your reading enjoyment if you haven’t already read The Circle. You’ve been warned.

Dear Mr. Eggers. Thank you! I loved your book. I think I had heard your name on NPR before. I’m an avid listener of This American Life and Radiolab. But I’m not in any form of book club nor do I usually follow ‘what’s new’ or trendy. But in this case I found your book on my smartphone eReader “top charts” in November. I usually stray from such lists for fear of accidentally reading the next Twilight or 50 Shades 

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#pirate #farmer #chicken #beard #redbeard #flannel

#pirate #farmer #chicken #beard #redbeard #flannel


You held me on the first day of my life. I held you on the last day of yours.

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She passed away on my birthday so I spent exactly 32 years with her. A list of some of the strongest memories I have of my Grandma, Geraldine. 

  • When I was a baby she would go out to dinner with me and my parents. Her goal was to get me screaming as loud as possible in the restaurant. It caught everyone’s attention. But shrieking with joy and laughter would do that. And it worked, often. So my joy spread to everyone throughout the entire building.
  • I got a keychain toy; a small, plastic “shrunken” hand. I had it with me at a soccer game(?) and my Grandparents were there watching. I tucked my arm in my sweatshirt sleeve and went to Grandma to shake her hand—but with my mini, shrunken hand. When she reached for it, she was aghast with delight, which thrilled me.

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Wildlife at a funeral.

Wildlife at a funeral.


My Dog Has Fleas

by James Roy Drum

The story behind the song


My Dog Has Fleas

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I was living in Portland at the time and wanted to get a ukulele. What kind of epitomic hipster story is this going to be? I had never truly played one but I knew a friend who had one. Mmm–hmm. And you wanted to start a folk band with them? I knew the guitar pretty well so it didn’t take more than a couple of minutes before I figured out the tuning on the uke. I liked its mobility and its alternate tones; a stark change from the guitar, softy and simpler.

Wandering in to Artichoke Music I overheard a clerk explaining to a lady about the tuning. “All you have to remember is: my dog has fleas.” And he strummed the four strings from the top down at the same time singing the words. I smiled. The lady had obviously never played an instrument before. And his pneumonic device was so cute and strange, how could anyone forget it? I certainly couldn’t get the tune or phrase out of my head. I left the place with the sound of the open ukulele strings twanging over and over, burning into my mind.

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