I always forget how big Chicago is. It’s not until I’m within a couple miles, and that skyline is in front of me…that’s when I realize just how big the place is. It’s big, and mean. Take our word for it.

My Chicago weekend was really good. I flew in, with little incident and/or turbulence, to be greeted by PJ “Hoss” Chmiel and Naz. We dined over pizza and soft drinks, and caught up on all the things that ought to be common knowledge between us. We drove the city, in a large rented SUV, seeing this and seeing that. But a few streets escaped our wrath. Lower Wacker Drive at 140mph is one to be remembered. Take our word for it.

Chicago is big, and is populated by people, of many colors and many origins. One of these fine citizens goes by the name Gina Maria DiPonio (scroll down, first photo...). I met the gal at D’s wedding last summer and well, she had a lot to say and I found myself sprayin’ shit along the lines of, “DiPonio, the next time I get to Chicago, we’ll kick the town’s ass.” So this time around, I looked her up. We ran around the city, had some dinner, took in some local tunes. The girl is on the up and up, with her teaching, writing and community volunteerism. Very inspiring. She’s from Traverse City, thriving in the big city, and we wish her nothing but the best. Take our word for it.

People travel to Chicago. They fly in on big planes. Some for business, some for pleasure…some because it’s their home, some because they are looking for a change. A group of snowboard industry schmucks flew into the Windy City for a very bloated Boost Mobile big air/rap jam/logofest deal. Company men like Pat “the Eye” Bridges (never misses ANYTHING, believe us), Evan Rose (overpaid), Mark Michaylira (over-Gaussian Blur’d), Chief Nusenow (over-bro’d), Mark Sullivan (big ol’ Idaho russet potato in his ass) as well as minions of other puzzled team managers, “marketing” managers and scattered “professionals.” Many familiar faces from the snowboard world were in town. It felt like a tradeshow, only in ritzy-ass hotel on Lake Michigan. There were more people working at the event, than fucks actually attending it. Funny how that stuff works. “Can I see yer pass, please?” says the concerned official. “I’m on the list. Take my word for it.,”was our feisty reply.

“See that, motherfucker? (…as I’m pointing to Lake Michigan’s sweeping shores…) You ain’t in Laguna Beach now!” is what I had to say, many times over, to one Chief Nusenow. He took our word for it.

Special thanks to “Big” Jim Coudal for the tour, cold ones at the corner bar and advice. He’s got a hell of a thing going back there. Very inspiring. You fucks ought to be checking his site daily. Take our word for it.

Other notable activities over the weekend: The Art Institute, straight to the top of the Sear’s Tower pickled on Foster’s Oil Can ale, Deep Dish Pizza, cab rides to shithole diners, a driving tour of Gary, Indiana, watered down drinks in the hotel lobby, “easy-on-the-eyes” waitresses serving watered down drinks in the hotel lobby and a walking tour through the meat packing district. Some of those gutter juices can make a man rethink his carnivore activities. Take our word for it.

- - - -

Bonus deal: Turns out my flight outta Chicago was a little late that Sunday evening, due to some of the nastiest skies I’ve seen in a long time. Those clouds were Pantone 431, yo! Scary stuff. So I get up to Minneapolis good and late, missing flights and all. I sweet talk the little chickadee at the gate and she offers up a free ticket for the mishap. Real Good™. Geoff Schley, Free Range Picker and Target’d graphic designer cruised out to rescue me. I took his word for it.

Minneapolis was as dark and mean as ever. It was nice to be in town. I even managed to get some time in with Ryno, that surly bastard. I managed to get some time in “around town,” seeing old haunts and special places. Lots of good memories there…with school, with Melissa, with friends…I miss those days real bad. You got my word on that one.

It's good to be back. Gonna buy a house. take our word for it.

BACK FOR THE ATTACK

We're back, and we're mean. Expect a full report from our Windy City Weekend once we're settled, laundered and clean-shaven.

- - - -

Not even a question: Our copy is on the way.

Flying out tomorrow afternoon for the Windy City. Real Excited™.

THINGS LIKE: Friends and family. City of Big Shoulders. Stacker of Wheat. Hog Butcher to the World. Mike Ditka mustaches. The L. Running with guys like P.J. "Strong and Cunning" Chmi-el. Design firms like Coudal Partners. A night on the town with Gina "Big G" DiPonio. Cousin Melodie. The amazin' Elon Cameron. Ben "Brass Balls" Schneider. Big buildings. O'Hare. Lake Michigan. Wondering if Wilco or Songs:Ohia or Shellac are busy at work on the next long player. Snowboard world "fuck influx" with a cast of cretins the likes of Rose, Bridges, Chief, Michaylira, "Big" Mike LeBlanc, 2's, Dave Syp, Danny Kasshole and other shreds. A night at Soldier Field either shralping for foul balls or gazing up at rickety scaffolding during a bloated snowboard "big-air" event. Meals at shady diners. Nightcaps at shithole corner bars. Warm beds courtesy of haggard broads after nightcaps at shithole corner bars after meals at shady diners. Wind. Lots of it. City lights. Warehouse districts. Sketch-ass alleys. Men with dark eyes. Dirt and grime. Tears. Long bus rides. Broken spirits. The Sears Tower. Cool air. Knowing Gary, Indiana is but an hour away. A "backup plan" of a warm meal, warm bed and a couple hugs but six hours north at the parental compound Traverse City, Michigan. Shitty parking. More tears. Swimming to Milwaukee to see Kurt, that cute little fucker. Catchin' a Greyhound to see Ryno up in Minneapolis, that big fuckin' prick. Michigan Ave. Walter Payton. The Fridge. John Hughes movies, especially, "Uncle Buck." The most amazing "signs of business" in the goddamn world. Califone tinkering on the iPod. Touch and Go records. Harry Caray's glasses. The museum of Natural History. The Art Institute. Big accents. Proud chests. Richard M. Daley, Mayor. More wind. I-55, I-90, 41. Lake Shore Drive. Wrigley Field. Bridges. Archer Prewitt. The Sea and Cake. Chris Wares. The Acme Novelty Library. The goddamn motherfucking Jesus Lizard. Lots of stuff. Whatever else might come to mind, you bet yer ass it'll be listed on here at some point.

We've been studying up on the place, readying ourselves.

POLITICALLY SPEAKING,

Enough, already. The prodigal son needs to be removed. Every time I see that motherfucker speak, I'm in constant awe of exactly how the hell he made it up through the ranks. A bumbling idiot in front of the whole world. I feel embarrassed to have him "on top." I feel embarrassed knowing he represents us.

John Kerry, Howard Dean, General Wes Clark, Rev. Al Sharpton, Denny Kucinich, Ralphie Nader, Mike Moore....whoever. Anybody but Bush.

- - - -

And speaking of the current state of the Union, I got a little fired up and dug out my old Dead Kennedy records.

The last song of the Frankenchrist album took me back to my 10th grade year. Take a read through this anthem, their ever-resonant "Stars and Stripes of Corruption." Funny how that shit still hits home, some twenty years later. It blew me away at 15, and still makes me shake my head and go, "Amazing."

EVEN MORE RAD SHIT FROM MINNEAPOLIS

Go here and click on the turquoise AIGA Minnesota Design Show 2003 box. Lots and lots of good work from those Twin Cities, again. Always impressed and imspired by that design community. Impressive showing by those CSA guys too, as always. Phew.

I always wonder: Is there a place for me in that mix?

There is something-possibly better left unsaid-about pulling out of a garage with new meats on yer rig. Like a kid with a new pair of kicks, running fast and humping around, we teared outta that parking lot with a reckless abandon unmatched in Multnomah county. Wear and tear got the best of us again, so we cruised out to Sears and popped for some new meat. Back in October we threw two new ones on the front, rotating the best chaff towards the back. That put a dent in the ol' pocketbook too, motherfuck. With summer upon us, and miles and miles of drunken cruising ahead of of us, we thought we'd prepare Big S with some much-needed rubber. He's lethal.

Next big automotive event on the horizon: Oil change.

Stay tuned.

RAD SHIT

More rad shit from Minneapolis.

From Ryno Simonson's "About Me:" Friendster offering,

"Things that I hate: The Home Depot, Wal-Mart, SUVs, Cell Phones, People talking on Cell Phones whilst driving SUVs, Golf, The Suburbs, Stinky Punk Rockers, White People with Dreadlocks, Los Angeles, Sushi, Yoga, The New York Yankees, Nelly, Republicans, Rap-Metal (Hard Now), People who wear baseball caps backwards, people who wear sun visors upside down and backwards - that really pisses me off, Kobe and Shaq, Radio Cuntry Music, Hippies, PCs, people who let their kids play soccer instead of baseball, Starbucks, Volkswagen Beetles, Beyonce, Fight Club, goth dicks, Beggars, Jet Skis, crotch-rocket motorcycles and the fuckers who ride them, nuclear power, budweiser, sports teams with racist american indian mascots, television, disney movies, florida, freezing rain, church, paying for parking, Applebees, Blockbuster, TGIFridays, The Olive Garden, Lite Beer, The Chicago White Sox, Pedro Martinez, Manny Ramirez, Roger Clemens, Jason Giambi, Roberto Alomar, John Madden, Tim McCarver, Joe Buck, Everybody Loves Raymond, Cottage Cheese, soccer moms, No Turn On Red, pleated pants, vinyl siding, retail developments, loft condos, the NBA, sucka MCs, cocaine, mean eyed cats, fuckers who pull up at my neighbors' houses and honk their horn for 20 minutes instead of getting out of their goddamn car and ringing the doorbell, Ben Affleck, Nike, P.Diddy, fake tits, warner bros. character tattoos, rollerblades, The Colorado Avalanche, Christmas, new comic books, Ambercrombie and Fitch, tucked-in shirts, James Rosenquist, beef jerky, leather pants, baggy clothes, telemarketers, The Portland Trail Blazers, income tax, the Beatles, dumb people, reality TV, british royalty, bleu cheese, bad lyrics, unkept pubic hair, fashion mullets, Drew Carey, linoleum floors, white people's jazz, people who talk during movies, bad drivers, NIN, Donald Rumsfeld, movies by Oliver Stone, Lite Rock stations, Sid Hartman, Nü Metal, stupid piercings, the Gap, jello salads, people with excuses for everything, mosquitioes, those orange japanese beetles, drunk bums, trust-fund and/or college educated "gutter punks," The University of Michigan, Deon Sanders, the Silver Surfer, Jane's Addiction, those shoes with wheels in the heels, frosted tips, construction zones with no constuction being done, lazy union road crews, Ja Rule, chemically treated lawns, McDonalds, Duke University, and wicker chairs. And don't let me forget Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez, and Tony Hawk Pro Skater games (for ruining my life. video crack)."

01. Mean-eyed cats? That makes two of us.
02. No Turn On Red. Oh man, don't get me going.
03. Those shoes with wheels in the heels. Ha...yep...'zactly.

Oh man, bleeding eyes, bleeding eyes. Man, hi-fives and chestbumps from the Left Coast, we're right there with ya. Stay strong, keep up the good fight. Poetic.

(Y'know, for being a real sonofabitch, it's yer "way with words" that keeps our bond strong.)

The woods behind my sister's home in Macomb, Michigan.

R.I.P. BOB

Sad news from Freakscene.net:

From J Mascis: “Bob the dog died today. He was born in Tacoma, WA on June 15th, 1996. I hope everyone will pray for Bob. He loved people and especially loved a party. I always heard eight was the normal life expectancy of Bulldogs, but somehow I thought Bob would live longer. Bye Bob, see ya later buddy.”

HE'S GOT THE LOOKS THAT KILL

Kickstart his heart. Jay Floyd hit the jackpot at the Hard Rock last month and snuck in a quick one with Vince Neil, who was in the middle of his third or fourth buffet plate. Lookin' good, Vince. Keep up the good work.

EARLY 2004 DISCLIST

01. Drive-By Truckers – Southern Rock Opera
02. Drive-By Truckers – Decoration Day
03. Wheat – Per second, per second…every second
04. Califone – Heron King Blues
05. Pilot To Gunner – Games At High Speeds
06. Mike Johnson – What Would You Do
07. Broken Social Scene – You Forgot It In People
08. Rilo Kiley – The Execution of all Things
09. Josh Ritter – Hello Starling
10. Sufjan Stevens – Greetings From Michigan
11. Jealous Sound – Kill Them With Kindness
12. Polyphonic Spree – Beginning Stages….
13. Milton Mapes – The State Line
14. Milton Mapes – Westernairre
15. The Elected – Me First
16. Iron & Wine – The Sea & The Rhythm
17. Iron & Wine – Our Endless Numbered Days
18. Sun Kil Moon – Ghosts of the Great Highway
19. Swell – Feed
20. Bo Diddley – Best of…
21. Buck Owens – The Very Best of…
22. Minutemen – Post-Mersh, Vol.3
23. Greg Brown – If I Had Known, Essential Recordings
24. John Vanderslice – Cellar Door
25. Jim O’Rourke – I’m Happy and a’ Singin a 1,2,3,4
26. Alejandro Escovedo – With These Hands (double disc)
27. My Morning Jacket – It Still Moves
28. Papa M – Four
29. Pyramid Electric Company
30. M. Ward – Transfiguration of Vincent
31. Grand Champeen – The One That Brought You
32. Richmond Fontaine – Post To Wire
33. Shins – Chutes Too Narrow
34. Josh Rouse – 1972
35. Paul Westerberg – Come Feel Me Tremble
36. Bottle Rockets – Blue Sky
37. Decemberists – Her Majesty, The Decemberists

SPECIAL DETROIT ROCK SECTION:

01. Laughing Hyenas – Hard Times
02. PW Long – Remembered
03. Dirtbombs – Dangerous Magical Noise
04. Dirtbombs – Horndog Fest

Real glad to be back. This is how it always works. Soooo excited to leave, soooo excited to be home. Restless, I guess, or something clinical, perhaps.

Nevertheless, fine readers of these half-ass entries, my time back home was good, and well, if yer interested in hearing more of the same, continue on.

- - - -

Saw those Aleshires a bit. Worked up some of the most amazing creations with Bry at the wheel of his sewing machine. He's rip-roarin'-ready to sew, and all his cylinders are firing. You need a laptop case? He'll make you one. Koozies for cans of ice cold beer? He's got you (those cold ones) covered. Triple stitched, for extra wear and tear. Carhartt, denim, monkey fur, whatever he can squeeze under the needle and thread...the guy is open for business. All project inquiries can be directed to Bry at Kukshire Designs. (kukshire@hotmail.com) DDC Seal of Approval quality. "Eva Proof."

SPECIAL LAPTOP CASE SHOWCASE: (Click to open, click image to close, etc.)

01. Holy-mother-of-all-things-duck-canvas, get a fucking load of this goddamn beast. Pure hell. Art. Protection. Durability.

02. He said, "Fill it up." So I did.

03. Super stealth pick pouch for moment's notice rocking.

- - - -

Sarah's condo is nice and neat and spacious. She is gigantically proud of it. I cruised down with dad to the Motor City to help her close on the deal. She had a little get together at the new joint that turned into an impromptu family reunion. It’s always good to see everyone. Next time, have some goddamn furniture so we have places to sit. Real tired of standing around.

Sarah is on to something good there. Lucky little chickadee. And guys, she’s on the market too, so direct all inquiries to us here at Draplindustries, and well, we’ll grease the wheel a bit for ya. Basically, she looks like me with longer hair, go figure. No, just kidding, we’d never bestow such a horrible review on any young lady, especially kin. She’s a doctor and she can drink like a pig, so y’know, all bases are covered. We love her, against all odds.

- - - -

It was good to be back home. I got to know their couch again, and man, some serious hours were burned on those cushions; clicking through a ton of channels or pursuing hours and hours of beauty sleep. Official DDC “Back Home” Training Cycle: Eat, sleep, laugh, flip through the latest issues of Rolling Stone, eat, hang with dad, sleep, hang with mom, check email, sleep, etc. Followed strictly.

- - - -

Special thanks to the pilots who guided are tin cans back there. Nice flights, good thrust, mere tidbits of turbulence, spacious seats, cold beverages, empty seats around me, confident takeoffs and smooth landings. Phew. Those fuckin’ NWA miles are adding up. I fly to Chicago in three weeks, and after that flight, I’ll have another free ticket racked up with my WorldPerks miles. 25,000 big ones, damn straight. In less than 8 months! Whoa. Busy little traveler…up and down the West coast, back to that Midwest, etc. The shit adds up. Gotta stay focused.

- - - -

Double down. Great book here, trust us. For all you Vegas types who think that can outsmart those cards, this one is for you. Uh, “A Real Thrillride.” Bunch of MIT turds who outsmarted the Vegas goombahs. Interesting.