YOW NIGHT RECAP: Mr. Resch and I picked up Mr. Yow at our modern airport yesterday afternoon, and we proceeded to get him into his hotel room downtown, and then over to a local watering hole where we shot the shit on many a topic including: our upbringings, what bands “did it” for us, art, working, and what not.

David Yow, is a gentle, sweet little man, and aside from all of my “Hey man, I’m a fan of you…” gushing, was very, very nice and offered up many tidbits from his very interesting life.

The talk went off without a hitch. Paul Anthony of Rumblefish did the mediating and handled Mr. Yow very well. Thank you, Mr. Anthony. I took one shot all night. Here it is.

I mean, come on, this is David Yow. The guy is a fucking handful. He knows how to work a mic like no other, and answered our little questions with wit, charm, humor and the occasional spine-tingling mangling of the mic or clearing of his throat. Or a well-placed belch, and subsequent apology.

When asked about what things he is drawn too, he told us more or less, “Things that make me weep.” For instance, the plants in the Huntington Botanical Garden in Los Angeles, and how he started to cry at the mere sight of some of the plants there. There’s something incredibly sweet about that. That’s Yow for you. Arlie took me there a couple years back, and it was pretty amazing, but I don’t remember crying.

He’s a comedian too. Here’s one of his jokes he told me “backstage” in a white room they called “the green room”: “I’ve decided to stop eating shit because it makes my vomit smell bad.” Something like that. Oh and, “What’s the difference between a Maserati and an erection? I don’t have a Maserati.” The whole time, eyeballing me with that insipid, little Yow smile. Lots of laughs.

All of it was very Yow, and I got the same jolt I did as a youngster seeing him pound it out on stage with The Jesus Lizard.

We all had a big supper at the Doug Fir, and Mr. Yow proceeded to get rather inebriated, and we all know how unpredictable and biting he can get when he’s tanked. He bit my friend Mark’s lip trying to bite his mustache. That’s when we called it a night.

God Bless David Yow.

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FEELING COMPLETED: I’ve only driven through Winnipeg once, and it was real late at night and colder than a mother-in-law’s love. And frankly, that’s disturbing to me, as, what an opportunity to check out a town, and then due to a tight schedule, to have to pass it up. Just unfortunate all around.

So thank goodness for Grant Hamilton, and him sending this link in to me called, “Winnipeg: Love & Hate.” Beautiful photography.

Grant lives down the road a couple hours in Brandon, Manitoba and runs a potent blog called,
“The Absurd Intellectual” with all kinds of interesting stuff on it. Suddenly, I feel like I know Winnipeg a little more, or at least the good shit to see there. Stuff like this. Thank you.

I’ve been getting that “I want to get back to the Midwest” feeling again more and more. I’m thinking a trip home is in order. I miss my mom and dad.

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DALE, YOU PRICK, DON’T MISS THIS ONE: A little Google thing called, “Yard Sale Treasure Map.” (Thanks, Dan!)

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THIS ONE IS FOR MY LONG-HAIRED WILDERNESS PARTNER, NAKAMOTO: “This Is Like Watching Someone Else’s Fetish.” Hard to categorize this one. The first of its kind on this blog. Not much else to say. (Via the Absurd Intellectual, Brandon, Manitoba.)