A response

Dearest Underrated,

It's so nice to hear from you. We haven't seen you guys since Jeremy's bris---and what a disaster that was.

So, thanks so much for writing to us. We'd love to come New York is like San Francisco's fatter, more distinguished brother, you know. It's the brother that doesn't smell like bum pee (or, as much like bum pee), stays out later, and gets all the good banking jobs. And good clubs too, you say. Well, we've heard tell of many, but the only time I've ever been to New York, all I did was admire views from tall buildings and struggle with a row boat in Central Park. And you dance, you say? Well, they dance out here too, but they don't dance everywhere, and we like going places where, at the very least, the crowd does some God's honest toe-tapping. Ass-shaking is thoroughly superior, of course.

And that video you have? Aw. That ain't shit. I mean, we don't like tooting our horn, but that was a show in a basement long ago. Imagine what might happen if there was, oh, I don't know, a PA, or room to breathe? The possibilities are endless.

So, it's a date. We're going to have to keep it open-ended, but y'all are famous for your hospitality. Once we get this CD out and get our transportation issues squared away, we'd love to come, have one of those meaty, cubic sandwiches, and play as many shows as you'll let us. And of course, we'll be sleeping on your couch.

Very Truly Yours,
Birdmonster

p.s. Don't think we didn't notice the Stevie Wonder-y title to your letter. You are the sunshine of our lives.

A fairly scatterbrained midweek blurb

Here's a little known fact: I'm still working. At least until the end of the month, when my official resignation goes into effect and Birdmonster takes to the road in a yet unpurchased vehicle. So, what is that? Two weeks? Two and a half? Could you hurry it on up, February? This is really getting ridiculous.

Naturally, there are good things about work. The paycheck, for starters, and of course there's the computer, which is the ultimate weapon in our fight against Taylorism. But today just has the earmarks of an eye-gougingly bad Wednesday: the stinky bus ride filled with elbows to the ribcage, the coffee that tastes suspiciously like dirt, the pissy co-worker or three...pass the pharmaceuticals.

But like I said, the days are numbered and that number is about twelve. After that, a short tour to Texas and back, followed by the release of our LP, which, by the way, is now one third of the way mixed.

We're self-releasing this puppy and that's both exciting and scary because, hey, who knows what life will be like come June or July: we could be filled with love, galavanting across the midwest in a 30-person van or playing our songs in the BART station in front of an upturned fedora filled with dimes.

Me? I'm an optimist. Plus, I'm loving the songs we've got already. It's interesting to see the order in which Brad is mixing them. He's gone through the slower, mellower ones, and is kind of working his way up to the all-out rockers that make up a majority of the disc. In other words, my ears will be bleeding by next Thursday.

Last thing: if you want to read more nonsense we wrote, go right ahead. Thanks to David at LHB. That was rather fun.