Unsorted (on the day of infamy)

Even in the desert, the chill air unmistakably alters the times. The entire rhythm of winter (or “not summer” here) is fascinating, for the mindset it creates if nothing else. Days and nights swap dominance. Automatic cultural and social hibernation kicks in, on some level. Leisure time is low-key, indoor. Hats are worn, as are long-sleeve T-shirts, in layers. Hoodies and sweaters are purchased.
And the waning fall brings the “holiday” season. Let winter be winter, I say. Why tie smowmen to Santa? Why distract from the chill and the cold?

So the Lounge is buzzing. Here’s to posts-a-plenty. Cheers.
Never question the significance of a weekend, particularly one in which you purchase funky glasses.

And to answer Freaktown’s call to arms:
1. I was a co-conspirator in getting backstage after the Wilco show last month.
2. The bandleader was a very police guy, considering every time he busts out his guitar he’s subject to an invasion of fans. And all he really wanted to talk about was politics.
3. DVDs of television shows can’t exist without the actual television, but I’d also rather srap the airwaves for the plastic disc and laser. And as a recent convert, I must sing the praises of Netflix.
4. I’d reckon pot gets smoked.
5. The Suns just went on a 21-0 run on their way to pummeling Golden State. There hasn’t been a more exciting team since I started watching basketball (incidentally, as a young Suns fan, eating peanuts at Vetern’s Memorial Collessium with my grandparents).
6. Bacon will be a part of my life forever. It will remain a rare part, but never quite abandoned. Stu LeBlanc, on the other hand...

Missed Bob Dylan on 60 Minutes?