1. The Philadelphia Phillies won the World Series.

2. The weather was nice today: 73 degrees.

3. Anthony Hamilton.

I'm back! Big thanks to Michele at Custom Data in Dickinson for fixing my Blogger link, which has been broken for two weeks. It's great to have her help available.


Please notice the new merchandise page, where you can now download Sandman CDs or order them the old-fashioned way. All my CDs are included, plus a 1997 cassette tape, Like a Dog (formerly stardust).


The page has an "other merch" button, too, which links to buttons, pillow cases, and--check this out-- ring tones! Just one so far: "Go Bama Go."

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I'm off for a bunch of fish truckin', with the farthest point away being Toronto.

Until this weekend . . .

This is my house, circa 1956.

That's Pauline Weber out front. She had a green thumb, I'm told.

What I know and see: Killdeer Mountain is covered in snow. The horses are doing strange things to each other. The well is working. Gas prices dropped to $2.99/gallon in Bismarck.

A porcupine is lumbering across a neighbor's pasture.

Gettin' colder . . .

I watched the second Presidential debate last night at Grandpa & Grandma's cabin. Grandpa and I thought Obama was the winner; Grandma wasn't so sure. I don't know about you, but I'm thinking Obama is looking quite presidential these days.

The "Go Bama Go" YouTube video should be completed by the weekend. Stay tuned.

Mom & Dad's well here on the Ridge doesn't pump out much water; it's too shallow. My job this week is to change that. I've been down, down, down in the dank hole, mucking and drilling through sand and sludge. Hopefully by tomorrow it will be deep enough, 'cause my eyes are turning pale and pink.

Summer is gone and it's OK, 'cause fall is here. After a hectic six months, I'm relaxing again. I cleaned up the living quarters today--kitchen and bathroom had become overrun with tools, paint cans, and boards, and my bedroom was a jumble of blankets, clothes, and shoes.

We received half an inch of rain today in Dunn Center. Rain is always welcome in this area.

Normanna Lutheran Church had its yearly Autumn Supper tonight, and Grandma & Grandpa treated. I bought a few containers worth of leftovers (mashed potatoes, coleslaw, gravy, roast beef, buns, stuffing, and bunt cake), all for $5.25.

So what I'm trying to say here is, life is good. And I'll mention, also, that my newly shingled roof is waterproof.

I'm taking it easy today, chillin' with my pet wasps. I harbor them in my south-facing kitchen window. They like the warmth and light.

It's two p.m., and I've done nothing but consume three glasses of apple juice and four sticks of celery w/ peanut butter. If I had a t.v, I'd be watching 'toons. Instead, I'm surfing Rachel Maddow clips on YouTube and calling old friends.

Frosty weather is fast approaching. I'd best plan a winter agenda. Argentina? Arizona? Asheville? Yes.

I just returned from my friend Ella Guenther's wake. I'll miss her funeral tomorrow, because I'll be hauling tilapia to British Columbia. I leave in a few hours.

Ella was almost ninety. I saw her last Friday morning from my rooftop, which I was shingling with Dad. She drove by and waved up at us, looking enthusiastic and healthy. We learned she died later that day from an aneurysm.

When I was the Dunn County Museum Curator, Ella and I collaborated on the Dunn County Historical Society's newsletter, "Tales & Trails." She was the editor for thirty years! She loved words and wordplay, and she mischievously sprinkled many of her writings with puns.

Ella G. deserves an elegy. (Her punnery must've rubbed off.)

Bye, Ella.

Blogger is finally working again. I'm going to post photos and blogs that I wasn't able to post over the last few days. Scroll down to catch up.

I'm supposed to be on a mini Minnesota/Wisconsin music tour right now. I found out two days ago, however, that my cousin Rodger died, so I cancelled all three shows, including tonight's set at Winona's Boats & Bluegrass Festival. (Sincere apologies, Tom).

Rodger was more an uncle than a cousin, due to his age. He was a great, sweet guy, and as real a cowboy and man as you can get. His only son, Justin, takes after him in all those ways. Justin is getting married in Killdeer tomorrow to beautiful Sarah Jane Koenigshof.


R.I.P. Rodger Nupen (1947-2008)

As some of you know, Dunn County is experiencing an enormous oil boom. It's bizarre. Traffic has tripled due to all the oil workers in their pickups and semis.

Here's an article from Great Britain's Telegraph that explains the situation better than I can. It features a three-minute video that spotlights my friends Ted & Dawn Kupper (awesome people) who recently acquired a couple oil wells on their ranch.

Adios, Paul Newman.

You rank right up there with Humphrey Bogart, in my eyes.

I recently tracked down an old college friend, Josh R., who was a Bukowski-inspired poet and surfer back in the '90s. I learned that he has created a successful business.

He printed up 10,000 little promo booklets for his company this week and, in the process, is generously spreading my brand around, too. Click on pic to see details. (Vanity note: I've released ten CDs, not eight.) He also made a Sandman listening page on the website.

Happy 66th Wedding Anniversary, Farfar & Farmor!

I just read a great novel: When We Were Orphans. It's by Kazuo Ishiguro.

Depression. What for? When everything is coming up sunflowers, I only notice shadows.

Summer's last full moon is waning. It's all I can think about.

My train-hopper companeros--Brandon, Trent, & Izzy--helped me rip the weather-beaten cedar shakes off my house today.

Tomorrow the friends will find a fast rattler in Dickinson and ride outta this dusty old state.

Fare thee well, old fellows! Remember this: "Patience makes the hobo strong."

And this: "Any man who eats pork & beans can't be all bad."

My friends Paul and Kristin got married yesterday in Killdeer. The reception was in Dickinson. I enjoyed catching up with my old pal Margi, whom I've not seen in over a year. She's now a biology professor at DSU and doing great.

Tomorrow I plan to tear the old wood shingles off my red house.

Hello from Killdeer Mountain. It's hard to believe that I've let a whole summer slip by without spending quality time up here on my parents' and grandparents' land. The bullberries and chokecherries are ripe, deer and bird are abundant, the temperature is perfect. The leaves, alas, are changing color too soon.

I have a few days off before my next international truckin' run, so I plan to make the most of it by doing some construction projects with Dad.

Today I received a disposable Sponge Bob camera in the mail from Scawy Monstur in Portland, OR. They want me to take 24 random pictures and then send the camera back to them, for an art project they're compiling. I can be as creative as I wanna be.

I also received an email from the Western Folklife Center Coordinator in Elko, Nevada. She requested that I apply for their 2010 National Cowboy Poetry Gathering. Getting accepted would be like making it to Nashville's Grand Ol' Opry, in my eyes.

Jonny "Corndawg" Fritz is in town.

He rode his R850R BMW motorcycle to Dunn Center this mornin'. We had an excellent day toolin' around the county. He's soon off to Spearfish, SD, for a show.

The filming is purt near complete--now the editing begins.

Yesterday's Dunn Center Auditorium show was sweet. Many came.

All in all, the last few weeks have been epically action-packed. I'm toast.

In two hours I climb back in the big rig and roll north to Calgary. Live fish for sale!

Life is currently strange and shifty. The documentary is in full swing.

I can't believe I just drove (with Goodall) to the west coast and back, again, in the last two days. On Monday we do it again.

My brain is melting.

Leaving Bozeman, now.

The tour is over. Driving back to Dunn Center, ND.

Things are unraveling and being re-woven at breakneck speed. Only the filmmakers will be able to document and relay these happenings. Lack of sleep has me hallucinating. Strange electrical currents illuminate my sleep-walk into destiny's abyss.

The day started on an unexpected note--Jonah flew back to Seattle. Long story.

Now Nerviz and I are in Bozeman. Our show tonight at The Filling Station was experimental. Long story.