I sent this out to our mailing list, but wanted a venue so all could read. Fond Christmas memories from Brent Skinner, and myself. Enjoy. More lyrics coming.

Brent Skinner Shares

One of my favorite memories involves my Granny. She bought all of the grandkids an Atari, along with Pac-Man. This, turned out to be a big hit, but we noticed that Granny was really good....I mean really good. She later insisted that we leave the Atari at her house so "we could all play together." We later found out that she stayed up all night long the night she bought it, because she was addicted to the game. She continued to play the game non-stop and was really good. I guess the best gifts are the ones that you get yourself.


Josh Johnson Shares

Jordan is actually 5 years younger than I am. This led to some typical older brother/younger brother cruelty growing up, but one Christmas...I took the award for biggest dickhead ever. Maybe it was jealousy that Jordy was getting what seemed like everything he wanted, or maybe its just my cold, cold heart, but one year I went around finding pieces of trash and wrapped them up putting "To Jordy, From Santa" on the package. Needless to say, on Christmas day, lil' Jordy was thrilled to find his stack of presents towering towards the sky. His glowing face, soon turned to tears as he opened his first gift: and empty 2 liter Dr. Pepper Bottle. This continued until he left the room crying. For some reason, Christmas hasn't really worked out for me since then.

Tyler Read's Newest Album "Hallelujiaville" is out now at Itunes, AmazonMp3.com and Tylerread.bigcartel.com. Go to Myspace.com/Tylerread to preview some of the new songs. Happy Holidays.

So I'm writing this as two things are going on: 1. My soul mate is watching So You Think You Can Dance, and 2. Nacho is telling me to listen to more Simon and Garfunkel. I think this is a completely appropriate time to talk about the lyrics to the opening track (kinda) on our newest album.

Avalanche is a song for dudes. I say that because dudes care about guitars and riffs and such. I, being a dude, am pretty excited about the outcome of this track. We demo'd this with a guy by the name of Rick Beato in Atlanta (who is an encyclopedia of musical knowledge), and it came out as a friend put it..."like an episode of Lost." We showed it to our dear friend, Elvis Baskette, and he tweaked the arrangement to where it is today. I really like this newest arrangement, but maybe one day we will show you the older version. Another buddy asked if it was a Thin Lizzy cover when we sound checked it before a show. I say success!

"Avalanche"

Yeah, Ive got your number
Yeah, I dont know your name
Caught in a landslide under
You don't remember my face

Every little thing I do
Doesn't mean anything to you
Every little thing I do
Doesn't mean a thing (doesn't mean a thing) to you

Yeah the times are now ending
Believers, come lift up your hands
Left me in a landslide under
Left me in an avalanche

Every little thing I do
Doesn't mean anything to you
Every little thing I do
Doesn't mean a thing (doesn't mean a thing) to you

Some people ask for permission, but I'd rather ask for forgiveness
the sand in the hourglass slipping and you're running out of time

This song pretty much spells it all out, but a thought that floats through my head in this song is: "If the world was ending, would I be doing the things that I am doing now?" Maybe John Cusack would have the answer, or Will Smith.

I'm going to be honest, the idea of fantasy sports doesn't do it for me. I can easily see how most males can get into this relatively new phenomenon, but I just can't do it. Too much work. It also requires too much devotion to a particular sport. I do spend quite a bit of time at NBA.com, but this is in passing and relatively small in terms of my time budgeting. At my current workplace, people are completely obsessed with Fantasy Football.

I don't really follow football (because of reasons that are mostly linked to the way I grew up, which was in a environment where there was usually no mention of the game) so I tend to be on the outside of most conversations. Strangely, I have countered this with an extreme interest in random sports facts:

I know now that there are 12 (actually 13) major markets with all 4 (MLB, NFL, NBA, NHL) major sports teams. I know the smallest market to have all 4 (Denver), and the largest to not (Los Angeles...weird right?). I now know that of all 4 year colleges and universities, the 4 most common mascots are ranked accordingly: 1. Eagle 2. Tiger 3. Bulldog 4. Panther. It seems predatory animals are big when it comes to solidifying your sports program into a cohesive identity. It also makes me wonder (granted, sometimes its pretty obvious) why there is all of the hullabaloo over teams with Native American identities. Maybe it's the cheapening of their culture, but sometimes it seems teams have a deep connection with people groups of a specific regions (like the Florida State Seminoles). The University of Louisiana has its Ragin' Cajun's, that is more or less the same scenario...regional culture group used to be the solidifying image of the University.

Ok, let me stop and explain that the caricature of these people groups is what seems to be the problem, and when it comes to mascots, caricatures happen more than a Lohan/Ronson scratchfest. So maybe there is no 100 percent politically correct mascot when it comes to people groups, (Vikings anyone?) but I would say that these mascots were originally chosen to help teams go to "war" with their opponents. Native Americans are pretty bad ass when you think about it. I was a Choctaw during my tenure as a college student, but a Pioneer as a High Schooler....what a strange turn of events. Maybe I am Kevin Costner.

I saw "The Informant" and was mildly entertained.

"Its Always Sunny..." comes on tonight. I am excited.

I've never seen someone so obsessed with a tv show that hasn't yet premiered, as my wife is with Glee. This show hasn't even truly begun and she's already planning on getting a "Gold Digger" tattoo to commemorate the choir's performance of the Kanye West classic.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out a way to fund a purchase of the newly remastered Beatles tracks as well as Beatles Rock Band game. I suppose I should have a Wii first, but let's not get technical here.

Our shows this weekend were a lot of fun. Show one in Monroe had us playing to a very supportive crowd who knew our music. Show two had us playing in the Celebrity Lounge in a casino, with people who were totally unfamiliar. But, being the "make the most of it" type of guys we are, we delivered a show full of entertainment, at one point pulling a middle aged African American woman on stage who went by the name "Miss Jenkins" (I think). Jordy ended up singing "Ill make love to you" to her. I think people were mostly just licking each other in the face out there in the crowd. But the night was wild, and so were we. Then I proceeded to drive 10 hours home so I could be at work the next day. I have determined that I am a moron, and should stick to serenading middle aged women.

That is all for now.

Lish 5000 out.

Recently, I overheard a coworker saying that Seth Green had the sweetest gig in Hollywood.

This person is obviously someone who aspires to be a comedian, and says that because of Seth's low level of limelight vs. his seemingly unending number of projects. That is all fine and well, but this guy is a moron for saying that. Look up and you will see why...

This woman easily has the easiest gig in the entertainment industry. Ina Garten, or "Barefoot Contessa" as she is known on the Food Network, has a semi-occurring show in which she cooks up a meal for some group of wealthy Hamptonites, all the while swilling booze like Mel Gibson. Thats it....that is all she does.

She has a tv show, food products for sale, and cookbooks. She basically retired from the White House and bought a food store in the Hamptons, which somehow skyrocketed her career. Keep in mind she isn't the hot piece of tail like Giada De Laurentiis (the woman who almost had me), the chipper squeak of Rachel Ray, or even the horrible frosted tips of Guy Fieri, she is just a middle aged woman, who likes to cook and drink -- at the same time.

Explaining her rise to an outsider would be like seeing a tone deaf Meat Loaf take the music industry by storm. Maybe if Paula Dean didn't have that incredibly put on accent and didn't market herself to Jeff Foxworthy fans, that would be Barefoot Contessa....see what I mean, how did this happen? And why is she absolutely my favorite Food Network Chef? Some things have no explanation. Like:

Arrested Development getting cancelled.

Olive Garden commercials.

The appeal of any reality television show.

Dumbledore being gay, while living in an era of serious homosexual wizard repression.

Seeing an ad spot for "Nearly Naughty" which is a local company offering to shoot photos of women in lingerie as a gift idea for their significant other.

These are my thoughts of the day after listening to T Rex's "Electric Warrior," and cooking up a delicious fettuccine alfredo with chicken. Its a good life.

I live close to an overpass. After you pass this overpass you will see a beautiful green field. The overpass is only significant, because it signifies crossing over a boundary of sorts for me.

You see, every Sunday night this field is filled with sweaty young men and women (or woman), dressed in kilts, and armed with swords and shields participating in Live Action Role Play (or LARP as it is known to the owner of this blog).

I have never in my life witnessed anything as interesting as this. These people cast and curse away, right next to soccer and softball players. Maybe this is a competitive sport that my high school didn't have, but how I would love to put on some chain mail and thrust away with these people.

Maybe I don't have to wear a sword, maybe I can be a...I dunno...be a white mage or something like that. I'm sure I could get a handle on a few spells, plus I would get to wear a cloak, and some gaudy hand jewelry. I wouldn't really want to be an Archer (sorry Legolas) or a Dwarf (sorry Little People, Big World), or an Orc (sorry Joan Rivers), but a Wizard sounds appealing...maybe its just the laziest of all RPG Archetypes. I'm actually glad these people have found a community doing what they love....being involved in insanely anti-social behavior.

I say that crudely because they are getting together to be a part of something that would normally be considered outcast behavior up against social norms. However, maybe hunting with your friends, or playing softball is just as strange....maybe its all perspective.

When I think of loneliness, I think of one man, a solitary man, a man some have referred to as "The Jewish Elvis." I think that I have a pretty decent case proving I was conceived on the night of a Neil Diamond concert, much like the characters in Saving Silverman. Here lately, when I find myself alone, I listen to one song....a song called - "I Am, I Said." The title actually makes me think of something that God would be likely to say in the Torah. So to me, Neil Diamond is equating his loneliness with being God. (Maybe this is far fetched)

Now this brings up an interesting point: Billy Corgan, principle songwriter for the Smashing Pumpkins made the claim that "Emptiness is loneliness and loneliness is cleanliness and cleanliness is godliness and God is empty just like me." This seems a little heady considering most of his fans were teenagers at the time, but the question remains: is God lonely?

If God actually turns out to be Neil Diamond, the answer is undoubtedly yes. When I listen to his songs, and imagine the way his rhinestone jackets lit up when they hit the stage in 1978, it seems strangely plausible that things could work out this way.

If God was one of us (this theory is proposed by one of the great thinkers of our time, Joan Osborne), then he would probably be playing Dungeons And Dragons with the smelly kids. Side note, Joan always looked smelly to me.

If God was a DJ, (this could possibly fall under an Epicurean line of thinking, if Epicurus had ecstasy) then probably yes, because that culture seems to be filled with oxygen thieves. (Sorry, Samantha Ronson, who would probably be considered Elvish if we were still LARPing - yes, that is a verb form of a word that I'm not sure exists, I feel like I have the right - it up, Lilo on the other hand, could make quite a handsome Gollum).

Maybe The Beach Boys have the final answer this tremendous question, in their timeless classic "God Only Knows."

I'll leave it at that.

Cue "I Am, I Said."

I have a growing obsession with any fm station that plays what some would call "soft rock." These stations are sometimes called "Jack FM" or "Lite Rock, Less Talk," or some other description that lets me know I have descended so deeply into irrelevancy that there is no coming back. I don't really care because the other options seem much more evil. Take Top 40 - Tranny Gaga, Rapper who frequently speaks about his riches, JoBros, Katy Perry, Or how about Active Rock - Godsmack, Disturbed, Staind, or Fukdown, or Angerhatechild, for example.

I could delve into Country, but that wouldn't be much fun, because those artists typically do not operate like other acts spanning the musical spectrum. They usually don't take themselves very seriously, and would make fun of themselves in a much funnier way than you or I ever could. (Have you heard of this Jeff Foxworthy fellow?) From a person who deeply loves the aesthetics that go into making a great artist, this makes Country singers my least favorite, but they would probably score highest on my list as actual human beings because of this same reason. I honestly don't really like speaking badly of any music, because I can usually find some redeemable quality in most anything (I'm an optimist at heart), but let's face it....the radio is usually not terrific. The point is, of the choices usually given, I usually choose "Soft Rock."

Driving home this Saturday from depositing a hard earned check into my financial institution, I tuned into Shreveport's 96.5 or KVKI as its known to most people over 50. Instantly, I was taken away to a magical place, a place I visited many times as a young person... Medieval England. It is here that a courageous young man named Robin of Loxley, and his Moorish friend Azeem (sp?), fought back against an evil tyrant who proudly called himself The Sherriff of Nottingham.

I'm speaking of 1991's Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, the song which allowed this wonderful time warp is Bryan Adam's, "(Everything I Do) I Do It For You." I probably saw this movie in the theatre four times, a record that was almost defeated by The Waterboy. Its not that I wanted to see these movies that many times, it just sort of happened that way. And any explanation for this would seem as absurd as the act itself.

But please, tell me that you weren't moved by Kevin Costner's dashing performance as Robin of Locksely, or how about Alan Rickman as the Sheriff? Sure Azeem was played by Morgan Freeman, and Mary Elizabeth Something was Maid Marion, but it was not their talent that made this the epic of the summer (it was the camera shot that followed the arrows). To me, this story wasn't about Robin stealing from the rich, or fighting a tyrant, or even winning a lady's heart...this movie was about him connecting with his new found brother Will Scarlett, played by the incredibly adept Christian Slater. I think most film critics would agree with me on this one, and the fact that the David Bowie-inspired witch was pretty damn scary. I still have nightmares about the scene where she anxiously notes, "The painted man, he haunts my dreams." This statement is seemingly pretty racist, but it turns out she had good reason for feeling this way.

You know, you could come with me to visit this magical time and place. All you have to do is push play on that video down there.

Many people are now familiar with Lost's Terry O'Quinn. He plays the character, John Locke, who is arguably the second most complex character on the show. Locke goes from a cripple with low self esteem, to a full fledged messiah, back to a doubting Thomas who struggles with his new found power, to a new incarnation of the Great Satan (this could be a bit of premature speculation).

He has had quite a ride in the show's relatively brief history, but the actor himself probably has an even more intriguing raise to fame. Born in 1952, his first blip on the Hollywood radar occurred in 1980, playing James Roosevelt on a TV show called F.D.R.: The Last Years. Even after bursting onto the scene at 28...it seems reasonable to say he was a D-lister (appearing mostly in guest spots on various TV dramas like Jag (which at the time seemed like a heterosexual TV adaptation of Top Gun) for 52 years of his life. But he never gave up the proverbial dream. This is INCREDIBLE to me. What if your father was still trying to get a role on Gossip Girl?

I am finding out more and more, that to truly succeed at something, you have to 1. Love doing it. 2. Work hard at it to get good, and #3. Be patient.

Not patient like waiting at the DMV, but patient like John Locke.

This post is actually about Wilco.

Granted, both parties seem totally unrelated, but stay with me here. (My tired brain is actually very pleased with the path I have chosen.) Listen to the song "Country Disappeared" off Wilco's new s/t release. Right now its the only song I can really listen to after dealing with MJ's untimely demise. I don't know how I stumbled on this (Wikipedia, actually), but note that Wilco lead singer Jeff Tweedy's first band (dubbed The Plebes) formed in the early 1980's. I first got into Wilco in 2004 with their pretty, yet completely paranoid, release "A Ghost Is Born."

The most interesting thing to me is that both of these entities (Terry and Wilco) have been working diligently at their trades since before I was born, and a quarter of a century later, here I am talking about them, and I don't think I'm the only one. Here are some of the lyrics to "Country Disappeared," the song that won't leave me alone.

So every evening we can watch from above,
crushed cities like a bug
Fold ourselves into each others guts,
and turn our faces up to the sun.

I have a friend who is a very focused person. Way more so than I am. I mean way, way more than I am. He persevered through what seemed like a decade to get into dental school. He did this because he said "I have no plan B." This is brilliance. Because he does not allow himself to even conceive of another alternative, he sticks with something until he ultimately gets it. I can really use a friend like this because I usually come up with about 16 ideas per day generally involving, but not limited to - franchise conception, alternative music revenue streams, creation of pilot for witty new tv series called "Jesus and Moses," Organizational Management, and a fresh new product I'm working on called a "Jump To Conclusions Mat." I think Jack White could relate to this, and when his newest new band "Dead Weather" came to town, my extremely focused friend and I made our way to go see him. But here is the interesting part of the story, the show was sold out. We knew this in advance (actually there were three of us), but once you have been to as many concerts as I have...this isn't really a problem. You have to be focused.

"Dead Weather" is made up of:
Jack White on Drums, Guitar, and Vocals
Alison Mosshart of The Kills handling most of the lead vocals
Dean Fertita from Queens of The Stone Age on guitar and keys,
and Jack Lawrence on bass from The Raconteurs

So one would think that the band, made up of very seasoned performers would destroy it live... and that would be a very good guess. It would be hard to imagine a personality that could dominate a stage with someone like Mr. White in tow, but Mosshart delivers. Every single person in the audience was held completely captive by her cock-sure swaying, siren-esque wailing, and all around excellent crowd play. I think that the greatest performers make the audience a little bit nervous, like Ozzy biting off the head of a bat or Chris Martin dancing around like he is a handicapped seal. Needless to say, I was very impressed with this young lady and her intense genital grabbing. But then, Jack got up from the drums, grabbed a six string, and I soon forgot about said genital grabbing. (Astute observers will note the very subtle self commentary).

Watching Jack White play guitar is something that I don't think our generation has a reference for. Maybe like watching Clapton or Page or something...I don't want to engage in too much hyperbole here, but watching him made me want to call people I have wronged in the past, and ask for forgiveness. This would probably include Jack since I now owe him thirty bucks for the ticket I never ended up with. I only knew one song from the group, but I was willing to forgo this fact due to the credibility of Jack's other projects, which I do enjoy regularly. (If you aren't really a music person, this includes "The White Stripes," and a new favorite of mine "The Raconteurs.") Consider me sold, I will be picking up the album soon. Here is a nice video for the song "Treat Me Like Your Mother."

"All Things Must Pass" - George Harrison

When I want to really listen to something, not just play it for background purposes, or to enhance a sexual mood in those around me... I listen to vinyl. Granted, this seems fairly cliche because right now everybody seems wrapped up in the "I love vinyl" mind collective that has infiltrated so many upwardly mobile young adults, but let's take a second to discern why.

First, vinyl is extremely romantic as far as a physical medium for music. I would say, arguably the most romantic form ever created (apologies to the 8-track). As we continue to see physical mediums of music vanish into an oncoming digital cloud, I truly believe that vinyl will be the last remaining way to hold music in your hand. It seems weird, but ask yourself when is the last time you actually bought a CD player? An iPod is simply a storage device (with a pretty heavy form of systematic obsoletion built in) and will be out the door sooner than we think. So here's to blowing the dust off of your parent's record collection (my apologies to the 8-track).

I went out to a flea market last week and picked up this gem for 9.50 usd. Granted, I had to navigate through plenty of non-ironic blue jean short wearers, patrons who smelled like pirate booty, various bikers who were making passes at each other (could Antique Malls be the new Bath Houses of our time?), and a tremendous amount of socks, but it was all worth it in the end.

Pull up the track "My Sweet Lord" and you will realize why it will always be hard to challenge The Beatles as "Best Band In The Universe." This is mainly because their THIRD best songwriter was probably better than 90 percent of all primary songwriters in any band. This album is a treasure trove of incredible jingles, and probably because he had some serious heavyweights helping him out. Eric "God" Clapton, and a little known beat poet named Bob Dylan (who I think was actually Jewish, yep going with Jewish) are contributing members to All Things Must Pass. Very Spiritual.