Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Monday, March 27, 2006
I should clarify. Last Wednesday I was invited by my co-worker Jeri to Seidl's Bar, where I was to meet her 21-year-old hot-blooded granddaughter (a barrel-racer, too). Well, not only was the granddaughter amazing, her 40-something mother (Jeri's daughter) was fine, also. So my eyes were feeling relaxed and happy, in spite of the cigarette smoke. But one of the beauties was married, and the other too young. So I drank too much. And later puked into a bowl.
On Friday I partied at the Buckskin with four of the hottest babes in Dunn County: Margi, Laci, Kelli, and Jolene. More eye-candy. More drunken revelry. I even witnessed some "Girls Gone Wild" action. Fun! But . . . at the end of the night, 'twas just me.
So what I'm trying to say is: this region has the goods, but the goods I've met aren't quite available enough to break my heart. 'Cause heartbreak is what a poet needs to break out. And as Kurtis Blow would say, "that's the breaks."
On Friday I partied at the Buckskin with four of the hottest babes in Dunn County: Margi, Laci, Kelli, and Jolene. More eye-candy. More drunken revelry. I even witnessed some "Girls Gone Wild" action. Fun! But . . . at the end of the night, 'twas just me.
So what I'm trying to say is: this region has the goods, but the goods I've met aren't quite available enough to break my heart. 'Cause heartbreak is what a poet needs to break out. And as Kurtis Blow would say, "that's the breaks."
Sunday, March 26, 2006
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Monday, March 20, 2006
Saturday, March 18, 2006
My Grandma Vi is 100% Irish. She's looking very beautiful these days.
Today at the museum we celebrated St. Paddy's Day in style. I started the Hootenanny off w/ "Dear Grandma." We had Irish step-dancing, traditional Gaelic songs, and penny whistle. Then Dunn Center had it's yearly St. Patrick's Day parade, which is hilariously small. It finished in about two minutes, but that made it AWESOME! I need to buy a camcorder so I can document the bizarre hipness of Dunn County. I spent the day teamed up w/ my friend, Margi Coyle. Everybody thinks we're sweethearts, which we are. But we like being platonic friends better than romantic boyfriend/girlfriend. Odds are we'd ruin our friendship if we tried to date. We drank green beer at the Ilo Bar and then drove to Killdeer for a karaoke contest. Margi won 3rd-place w/ Bonnie Raitt's "Something to Talk About." I did "Rapper's Delight" which delighted many, but failed to place.
It was a bonny day full of memorable shenanigans.
Today at the museum we celebrated St. Paddy's Day in style. I started the Hootenanny off w/ "Dear Grandma." We had Irish step-dancing, traditional Gaelic songs, and penny whistle. Then Dunn Center had it's yearly St. Patrick's Day parade, which is hilariously small. It finished in about two minutes, but that made it AWESOME! I need to buy a camcorder so I can document the bizarre hipness of Dunn County. I spent the day teamed up w/ my friend, Margi Coyle. Everybody thinks we're sweethearts, which we are. But we like being platonic friends better than romantic boyfriend/girlfriend. Odds are we'd ruin our friendship if we tried to date. We drank green beer at the Ilo Bar and then drove to Killdeer for a karaoke contest. Margi won 3rd-place w/ Bonnie Raitt's "Something to Talk About." I did "Rapper's Delight" which delighted many, but failed to place.
It was a bonny day full of memorable shenanigans.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Sometimes
Sometimes things don't go, after all,
from bad to worse. Some years muscadel
faces down frost, green thrives; the crops don't fail,
sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.
A people will step back from war,
elect an honest man, decide they care
enough, that they can't leave some stranger poor.
Some men become what they were born for.
Sometimes, our best efforts do not go
amiss, sometimes we do as we were meant to.
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow
that seemed hard frozen: make it happen for you.
Sheenagh Pugh
Welsh poet
Sometimes things don't go, after all,
from bad to worse. Some years muscadel
faces down frost, green thrives; the crops don't fail,
sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.
A people will step back from war,
elect an honest man, decide they care
enough, that they can't leave some stranger poor.
Some men become what they were born for.
Sometimes, our best efforts do not go
amiss, sometimes we do as we were meant to.
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow
that seemed hard frozen: make it happen for you.
Sheenagh Pugh
Welsh poet
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Saturday, March 11, 2006
(return to) . . . the blackhole (of outerspace):
Click to enlarge. ($12 postage-paid).
Or . . .
Good to be Awake:
A cycle of love ballads pointing to a blaze of sunshine warming the eastern shoreline. This sweet, poignant, and musically compelling CD of folk/pop songs features Jen Grady's harmonies on ten of the thirteen songs--and it gets better with each listen.
If you are looking for a reprieve from nighttime's lonely death slide, Good to Be Awake will be waiting patiently with a cup of cinnamint tea and a lover's kiss. $12 postage-paid.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The first collection explores night. The second day. Yin and Yang. Rap and Country. They belong together, no?
If you'd like both, send $22 postage-paid for the set. Make checks out to Chris Sand, and send to C. Sand / PO Box 7 / Dunn Center, ND 58626.
Click to enlarge. ($12 postage-paid).
Or . . .
Good to be Awake:
A cycle of love ballads pointing to a blaze of sunshine warming the eastern shoreline. This sweet, poignant, and musically compelling CD of folk/pop songs features Jen Grady's harmonies on ten of the thirteen songs--and it gets better with each listen.
If you are looking for a reprieve from nighttime's lonely death slide, Good to Be Awake will be waiting patiently with a cup of cinnamint tea and a lover's kiss. $12 postage-paid.----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The first collection explores night. The second day. Yin and Yang. Rap and Country. They belong together, no?
If you'd like both, send $22 postage-paid for the set. Make checks out to Chris Sand, and send to C. Sand / PO Box 7 / Dunn Center, ND 58626.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
It occurred to me today that I'm one step away from becoming a Norwegian bachelor farmer, the kind that Garrison Keillor talks about on Prairie Home Companion. The only thing missing is the farm. I came across some Norwegian jokes to share. Don't feel bad for us--Norwegians like being the butt of unfair jokes.
1. Two Norwegians at the funeral of their friend Nels. “He sure looks good,” said one. “He should,” remarked the other, “he just got out of the hospital.”
2. Q: Why do Norwegians have such pretty noses?
A: Because they’re hand picked.
3. Two Norwegians were trying to get a mule into the barn but its ears were too long. One Norwegian suggested raising the barn. The other one thought they should dig a trench. “No, you dummy,” exploded the first, “it’s the ears that are too long, not the legs.”
4. 1st Norsky: What’s in the sack?
2nd Norsky: Chickens.
1st Norsky: How Many?
2nd Norsky: If you can guess, I’ll give you both of dem.
5. Q: How can you identify a level-headed Norwegian?
A: When the snoose runs out of both corners of his mouth.
6. Who was the most famous Norwegian inventor?
Henry Fjord.
7. Marriage license clerk: Names, please.
Ole: Ole Johnson
Lena: Lena Johnson
Clerk: Any relations?
Lena (blushing): “Yah, vunce or tvice, Ole couldn’t vait.”
8. Q: What did the Norwegian say when he saw his first pizza?
A: “Who trew up on da lefse?”
9. 1st Norwegian: My brother’s got a case of hemorrhoids.
2nd Norwegian: Swell. Let’s go over and help him drink it!
10. Two Norwegian brothers kept their two horses in a pasture. To tell them apart, they notched the ears on one horse. Later they discovered the black horse was about 8 inches shorter than the white one.
1. Two Norwegians at the funeral of their friend Nels. “He sure looks good,” said one. “He should,” remarked the other, “he just got out of the hospital.”
2. Q: Why do Norwegians have such pretty noses?
A: Because they’re hand picked.
3. Two Norwegians were trying to get a mule into the barn but its ears were too long. One Norwegian suggested raising the barn. The other one thought they should dig a trench. “No, you dummy,” exploded the first, “it’s the ears that are too long, not the legs.”
4. 1st Norsky: What’s in the sack?
2nd Norsky: Chickens.
1st Norsky: How Many?
2nd Norsky: If you can guess, I’ll give you both of dem.
5. Q: How can you identify a level-headed Norwegian?
A: When the snoose runs out of both corners of his mouth.
6. Who was the most famous Norwegian inventor?
Henry Fjord.
7. Marriage license clerk: Names, please.
Ole: Ole Johnson
Lena: Lena Johnson
Clerk: Any relations?
Lena (blushing): “Yah, vunce or tvice, Ole couldn’t vait.”
8. Q: What did the Norwegian say when he saw his first pizza?
A: “Who trew up on da lefse?”
9. 1st Norwegian: My brother’s got a case of hemorrhoids.
2nd Norwegian: Swell. Let’s go over and help him drink it!
10. Two Norwegian brothers kept their two horses in a pasture. To tell them apart, they notched the ears on one horse. Later they discovered the black horse was about 8 inches shorter than the white one.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Saturday, February 25, 2006
I received emails in the last two days from two musician friends I've toured with on separate occasions in the last two years: Ivan Okay and Jack Norton. These dudes are true blue indie song soldiers. Both commented on (return to) . . . the blackhole (of outerspace), the new rap CD created by me (lyrics) and Timezone La Fontaine (beats):
From JN:
first of all, "blackhole" is the best thing you've done, by far, the production is really, really good. and the raps all flow well. its a concept album but not over the top or annoying at all. it just stands up as being really, really good. "gateway" is brilliant - one of those, "wish i thought of that idea" type of songs that drive songwriters crazy. it's hilarious! if you had the proper contacts i think this album could do really well. the video possibilities to most of the songs are endless. "pony" is such a natural that you should kill whoever wrote it and claim it as yer own.
From IOK:
I need to tell you how much I've been enjoying "Return to the Black Hole of Outer Space" these last couple days. It's really something special, and I'm so happy that you've created it. It's fun! I would pick "GALAHAD" as the first single. So unique and lots of energy and catchy. Your lyrics throughout the CD are your best yet (in my opinion). The production is great, and amazingly, it's just as I imagined it would be: really colorful, soulfully textured, kinda strange and a little psychadelic. I just wanna say, "AWESOME JOB!". Your star continues to steadily rise...
----------------------------
For anybody interested in hearing this hot-off-the-press Sandman *CD, send $12 to:
C. Sand
PO Box 7
Dunn Center, ND 58626
U.S.A.
*PARENTAL ADVISORY WARNING: Raunchy lyrical content on a few songs.
From JN:
first of all, "blackhole" is the best thing you've done, by far, the production is really, really good. and the raps all flow well. its a concept album but not over the top or annoying at all. it just stands up as being really, really good. "gateway" is brilliant - one of those, "wish i thought of that idea" type of songs that drive songwriters crazy. it's hilarious! if you had the proper contacts i think this album could do really well. the video possibilities to most of the songs are endless. "pony" is such a natural that you should kill whoever wrote it and claim it as yer own.
From IOK:
I need to tell you how much I've been enjoying "Return to the Black Hole of Outer Space" these last couple days. It's really something special, and I'm so happy that you've created it. It's fun! I would pick "GALAHAD" as the first single. So unique and lots of energy and catchy. Your lyrics throughout the CD are your best yet (in my opinion). The production is great, and amazingly, it's just as I imagined it would be: really colorful, soulfully textured, kinda strange and a little psychadelic. I just wanna say, "AWESOME JOB!". Your star continues to steadily rise...
----------------------------
For anybody interested in hearing this hot-off-the-press Sandman *CD, send $12 to:
C. Sand
PO Box 7
Dunn Center, ND 58626
U.S.A.
*PARENTAL ADVISORY WARNING: Raunchy lyrical content on a few songs.
Friday, February 24, 2006
Random memories of Grandpa Nick Herak:
All my grandparents are still alive except my mom's dad, who died when I was 16. Today would have been Grandpa H.'s 94th birthday. He was a wheat farmer, then cattle rancher in western Montana. His brand was H Lazy H. I grew up four miles from his and Grandma Vi's farm, and thus got to be part of football Sundays, brandings, and regular Catholic church services. He was an avid sports fan, and he loved to gamble, too. He'd practice his golfing in a cow pasture, then pay me a nickel a piece to retrieve them. He was generous to a fault with me; maybe because I was his first grandkid. I'd always overdose on the candy that he'd fill my pockets with. He loved to look for four-leaf clovers in the back yard, and he usually found one. He flood irrigated his pastures--never used sprinklers as far as I knew--which meant he'd always have a shovel with him. Sometimes I'd join him while he irrigated. He was very religious and made rosaries in his spare time. He devoutly loved the Virgin Mary. I've never seen someone pray so passionately at church, head bowed, eyes tightly closed. He was a passionate Democrat, too, and he railed against "greedy Republican politicians" every chance he got. His skin was dark brown, especially on his lower arms. There are two reasons for this: a) he was Croation/Slovenian, and b) he was always working outside, usually with sleeves rolled up. Some said Grandpa was a good enough baseball player to have gone professional in his younger days. He and my grandma raised nine children: five boys, four girls. He smoked a lot of cigarettes until his mid-sixties, when he quit cold turkey after my mom asked him to please smoke outdoors when at our house. He was one of the nicest people I've ever known. He died of a rare cancer at age 75. Happy 94th birthday, Grandpa!
All my grandparents are still alive except my mom's dad, who died when I was 16. Today would have been Grandpa H.'s 94th birthday. He was a wheat farmer, then cattle rancher in western Montana. His brand was H Lazy H. I grew up four miles from his and Grandma Vi's farm, and thus got to be part of football Sundays, brandings, and regular Catholic church services. He was an avid sports fan, and he loved to gamble, too. He'd practice his golfing in a cow pasture, then pay me a nickel a piece to retrieve them. He was generous to a fault with me; maybe because I was his first grandkid. I'd always overdose on the candy that he'd fill my pockets with. He loved to look for four-leaf clovers in the back yard, and he usually found one. He flood irrigated his pastures--never used sprinklers as far as I knew--which meant he'd always have a shovel with him. Sometimes I'd join him while he irrigated. He was very religious and made rosaries in his spare time. He devoutly loved the Virgin Mary. I've never seen someone pray so passionately at church, head bowed, eyes tightly closed. He was a passionate Democrat, too, and he railed against "greedy Republican politicians" every chance he got. His skin was dark brown, especially on his lower arms. There are two reasons for this: a) he was Croation/Slovenian, and b) he was always working outside, usually with sleeves rolled up. Some said Grandpa was a good enough baseball player to have gone professional in his younger days. He and my grandma raised nine children: five boys, four girls. He smoked a lot of cigarettes until his mid-sixties, when he quit cold turkey after my mom asked him to please smoke outdoors when at our house. He was one of the nicest people I've ever known. He died of a rare cancer at age 75. Happy 94th birthday, Grandpa!
Monday, February 20, 2006
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Here is a nonfiction short story/romance mystery I just wrote. I call it Leggo My Ego:
Last week I asked a woman in a neighboring town out on a date (it was nerve-wracking). In so many words, she said 'no,' but didn't explain why. Today I learned she is married, which might explain it. Ego resolved.
End.
Last week I asked a woman in a neighboring town out on a date (it was nerve-wracking). In so many words, she said 'no,' but didn't explain why. Today I learned she is married, which might explain it. Ego resolved.
End.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Monday, February 13, 2006
Sunday, February 12, 2006
The answer to one of these questions is "uh . . . no":
Did the Seattle Seahawks really just go to the Super Bowl?
Did Peter Gabriel really just sing "Imagine" during the Olympics XL opening ceremonies?
Did Vice President Cheney really just accidentally tenderize a 78-yr-old man in the face and chest with a shotgun?
Did I really just make out with the hottest 31-year-old in North Dakota?
Did the Seattle Seahawks really just go to the Super Bowl?
Did Peter Gabriel really just sing "Imagine" during the Olympics XL opening ceremonies?
Did Vice President Cheney really just accidentally tenderize a 78-yr-old man in the face and chest with a shotgun?
Did I really just make out with the hottest 31-year-old in North Dakota?
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Today was a hard, wintery, lonely day. I dedicate today's journal entry to myself with these soothing sentiments by the Grandfather of American Poetry, Whitman:
------------------------------
I Celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and
their parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
[poem by walt whitman; it's the first few lines in "song of myself"]
[photo by eden batki, big sur, ca, 1.21.06.]
------------------------------
I Celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and
their parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
[poem by walt whitman; it's the first few lines in "song of myself"]
[photo by eden batki, big sur, ca, 1.21.06.]
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Yesterday's journal entry was only a Norwegian joke disguised as a blog.
Ok, then . . .
Does anybody want to order some Valentine CDs or pillow cases? Good to Be Awake is full of love songs! So is (return to) . . . the blackhole (of outerspace) come to think of it.
Valentine's Day Special: $11.11 postage paid for Good to Be Awake. Thirteen songs about love. . . and sometimes loss. I'll include a Valentine's Day card.
Send to: C. Sand / PO Box 7 / Dunn Center, ND 58626, if interested.
Ok, then . . .
Does anybody want to order some Valentine CDs or pillow cases? Good to Be Awake is full of love songs! So is (return to) . . . the blackhole (of outerspace) come to think of it.
Valentine's Day Special: $11.11 postage paid for Good to Be Awake. Thirteen songs about love. . . and sometimes loss. I'll include a Valentine's Day card.
Send to: C. Sand / PO Box 7 / Dunn Center, ND 58626, if interested.
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