The Enthusiast

Word up. Just got down to NJ; we're more than halfway to our vacation spot on the Joisey Shore. Tonight, we're staying at my bro-in-law Matt's place and then tomorrow we drive down to Absecon to spend the next week sunning and splashing and whatnot. We had some not-so-fun times on the way down when our car (not my Olds Pimpbot 3000, but our '01 Maxima) starting making some weird noises not long after we got on the road. This is after we plunked down nearly $800 yesterday to have the brakes repaired and the car tuned up in general. At first, we thought it was stuff bumping around in the trunk, but then realized it was coming from the rear wheels. We found a service station in Connecticut and the guy figured out that the left rear wheel was loose; apparently our mechanic yesterday forgot to properly tighten the lug nuts. Nice. After that, the drive was much less stressful, but we will make sure to rip the mechanic a new one.

Fame and fortune is a stupid game:

• Last night, after I spent the day wrapping up stuff at the office, I headed into Boston to check out the always awesome Mission of Burma at the Paradise. A bunch of co-workers and my good buddy OJ of Clicky Clicky fame were also in attendance. I caught the end of Neptune's opening set, which was weird and cool, what with the homemade instruments and the nizzoize. Then I managed to worm my way right up to the stage, right in front of Burma guitarist-singer Roger Miller. Holeeee crap, was that loud. He just had one ratty old Marshall hooked up, but it was immediately in front of me to the left and it was farkin' blasting. As a result, I couldn't hear the vocals too clearly, although OJ told me afterwards that the mix wasn't great from his vantage point in the balcony, either. That said, it was a great show. This was one of several small dates the band was playing since its new album The Obliterati came out, and they were in fine form. They played two 45-minute sets with most of the new album, five cuts from their 2004 album OnOffOn, and several of their classics. Miller eschewed his trademark industrial headphones (the band originally broke up in '83 because of his struggles with tinnitis) for some newfangled earplugs. Bassist-singer Clint Conley was having a ball watching Miller wail away, and drummer-singer Peter Prescott made many wisecracks between songs, including "We're the Arctic Clap Your Hands Arcade Monkeys." The show sold out earlier in the evening, a mix of aging rock nerds from the band's first incarnation, younger hipsters, and the rest of us dorks. Good times.

All right, I'll check in later in the week.