BIG DAY OUT: Had great morning junkin’ with Mark Phillips and Kass. Went way down to Oregon City to rescue some items from some of the shops there. Not too many were open, frustratingly, as it was 11am on a Saturday morning. Horseshit.

Picked up an amazing Cincinnati timeclock for all DDC Factory Floor employees to punch in to. “Slaves to the clock.” Indeed. The thing seemed to be working okay in the junk shop I bought it from, but, now it seems to be keeping about a two minutes to each real minute. Hmmm. A way to slow shit down, maybe? It’s built like a tank, and will be a nice addition to a wall around here somewhere.

I’ve wanted one of these for some time now.

Here’s a contemporary version of it. Not as cool as the one I rescued. Anyone know where I might get one of these repaired around town?

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Check out some wild tube clocks from places far away.

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BIG NIGHT OUT: Went down to Satyricon last night with Lovejoy to listen to some tunes. Mark Phillips was spinning records, and the Thrones were headlining the mainroom. A little bit about Joe Preston and his Thrones: Burly. Inner core rumbles. Middle earth seismic activity.

I put a couple links to the guy here, wishing for the sort of beardy majesty he exudes. The guy just might have the best beard I have EVER seen. Sorry dad, he’s got you beat.

The Thrones are loud. At one point, I felt a little wobbly, and it wasn’t the cold bottle of PBR I was sipping. It was the intensity of the sound…the core-pulverizing low end of his bass assault. I was in shorts, cuz, you know, it’s almost summer, and, I could feel the hair on my legs twitching from the power of the soundwaves. They were itchy cuz the noise was twitching them, or something. Wild. I bought a pair of earplugs, but said “fuck it” and just went natural, and let that big, hairy sound soak way into my thinker. Ouch.

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Field Notes partner Jim Coudal, looking pretty sinister down in Austin. Photo by Naz, way back in Chicago. Bravo, brother.