sheer potentiality

According to Jacqueline Passey’s latest post, it’s “hilarious fun” to google “[your name] needs”. Apparently I’m not the first person named Phil to blog about this, but…

Quite Frankly, Phil Needs A New Act (agreed)
Saint Phil Needs A Blog (I’ve got one, and I’m not a saint!)
PHIL NEEDS A REAL BORN AGAIN EXPERIENCE OF JESUS CHRIST!!! (no thanks)
If Phil needs more assistance, he should go to the Reference Desk.
Phil needs to follow throgh on his search stragety
Phil needs your help today to fight the Schwarzenegger fundraising machine! (Yes! Send me money!)
Phil needs his beauty sleep.
Phil needs a new membership list from the secretary.
PHIL NEEDS A WAKE UP CALL AND THIS SUIT COULD BE IT.
Phil needs a ipod. (have one)
what phil. needs is a good sex education (I prefer to learn by doing)
What Phil needs to realize is that the main reason we suck is because we’re saddled with a roster of undesirable players with huge contracts.
Phil needs some start-up money for his new business.
Phil needs your help. He’s in a daze, and sixteen coins from his now-broken piggy bank lay all around him.
If Phil needs to be arrested is up to the police
We are aware that Phil needs more attentions than a “normal” boy but we treat him as a “normal” child as much as possible…
Right now, the Lakers certainly need Phil more than Phil needs LA
Apparently Phil needs to read his own biography on why he started making music to begin with.
Phil needs to place an order for our launch rail and base.
Phil needs his privacy. He can’t do a thing until Jeff Lannigan steps outside and the right buttons on the panel are pushed. When that finally happens, …
Phil needs some friends (I’m told this quite often)
Phil needs some medical attention, and you’ve been affected by the powerful fumes. (Woohoo!)
Perhaps Phil needs to clean up his own house a bit before he comments further on how messy other people’s houses must be…

But ultimately…

All Phil needs is the raggedy old green army coat.

That pretty much sums up my Thanksgiving break. I went home, which for me is well out of town, in a house up in the hills, so our neighbors include a bunch of raccoons. We’ve taken to feeding the raccoons—we like seeing them around, and feeding them is an effective way to prevent having our garbage or house raided.

Feeding the raccoons has recently turned into a complex ritual, however. First, the raccoons start to gather around the back porch. Usually one or two will stand on the porch knocking against the glass door and standing on their hind feet, but there are always others hiding beneath the porch or in the tree across the fence. Then you have to grab the bag of marshmallows and open the door. Usually at this point you’ll see a lot more raccoons than you did before, not only the ones hiding but also the ones you can’t see from inside.

Next, you toss marshmallows to the raccoons. The quicker raccoons will even go for the ones you toss to other raccoons, so you have to be sort of careful. Once you’re finished with that, you take the dog food bag and fill up the feeder. (No, we didn’t have a feeder installed just for the raccoons. It came with the house.) Raccoons are skittish and will run under the porch and hide when you go out there to fill the feeder, but once you come back in they’ll all come out to eat.

I got back to Pullman yesterday and picked up my repaired PowerBook. In addition to the new screen (which looks INCREDIBLE—just no other word for it), they even fixed a lot of the case damage without even having to. The latch is new and the hinge feels so nice and tight. I’m happy, and Kira is looking a lot less beat up. Still the dent on the lid though, but it’s amazing how insignificant it seems now.

My PowerBook is repaired and on its way back to Pullman, Washington. I didn’t anticipate it being done so soon—maybe I should have arranged for it to be sent to a local Apple Store or something. Well, at least it’ll be in Pullman waiting for me.

My PowerBook has the infamous 2003-era white spot problem and I’ve neglected to get it fixed so…I’m sending it in tomorrow (hopefully) and having it shipped back here to Pullman where it will be waiting for me upon my return. Now, I’ll still be online during next week, but sporadically, as it is Thanksgiving week and I will be home—I’m leaving tomorrow in fact.

I’ve changed the format of philwelch.net. Hope you like it better.

I also have Google ads, but they’re pretty unobtrusive. I hope.

Me: The cap of my super glue tube is super glued to the tube.
A friend: just twist.
Me: I tried.
Friend: Harder.
Me: The tube exploded.
Friend: …oh…
Friend: oops?
Me: Great.
Me: Now my fingertips are coated in super glue.

I think it’s fair to say that music is pretty important to my life. One of the questions I have sometimes asked of others is whether it’s the sound or the lyrics that are more important. People give me various responses*, but I’ve recently discovered I’m less sure of my own response than I once was.

I used to think it was all sound, but I’ve found that particularly lame lyrics can ruin a song for me (most of Styx’s Kilroy Was Here), and particularly good lyrics can lift it up (Rush’s “Bravado”, from Roll The Bones). So now I’m starting to think that lyrics are far more important than I ever believed.

But that doesn’t mean I have to like or even agree with the lyrics. For the most part, that means that I don’t have to consciously notice any lameness. That can either mean that there is lameness, but I don’t pay attention to the lyrics and don’t discover it, or alternatively, that there isn’t lameness. Either way works, although lacking lameness in the first place is more sustainable. Once I know the lyrics I can’t hide from them anymore. Their lameness just comes and gets me. By the throat.

*Hint: That’s the audience involvement bit. See that “comments” link? :)