kang, kodos, and my life of crime

In case you missed a previous blog, I'm ghost writing music for a TV show these days. A friend who scores a couple of shows has a wee bit too much on his plate, so I'm doing half the music for a particular show (which shall remain nameless). Last week I was holed up in the studio, scoring early and often. This week I'm off, and back to the more important work of talking about myself.

Today I return to the world of the living. I'll be seeing sunlight firsthand (and not through the studio skylight), getting worked over on the tennis court, replying to myspace friend requests, finally updating the email list, and booking a show or two.

I've been reading a bit about how "superdelegates" will effect the outcome of the Democratic Presidential nomination. What with the record voter turnout that's being reported around the country, that personally makes me want to kick me heels up and shout "what the hizzle?!" That's got to be number two on the top ten ways to make people disenchanted with the democratic process, right above Kang and Kodos taking off their Barack and Hillary disguises at the eleventh hour and revealing their true policy goals of enslaving the human race.



Nevertheless, I shall carry on with my obsessive trolling of the news of the Presidential race, and my new found poli-crush on Hendrik Hertzberg.

This weekend I went to Vegas to visit friends and lost 100% of the seven dollars I invested in "jacks or better" video game poker. This is one of those experiences where early failure in the short term may be best for the long run. For example, coughing your brains out the first time you try a cigarette, or getting caught shoplifting baseball cards* on your first attempt doesn't feel great in the moment. Fortunately, when you're tallying up the plusses and minuses of the human condition down the road, these moments will lead to a relative karmic jackpot. On the other hand, maybe I'm missing my calling by not pulling a bank or stagecoach heist.

We'll never know. Instead I'll teach myself Joni's "Raised on Robbery" and ponder.



*It was fourth grade, and I blame my delinquent friend, Freddie, for talking me into it.