FANZINE

‘And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful
Wife
And you may ask yourself-well…how did I get here?’

_{-Talking Heads}

Well the lyrics get darker from there, with the existential questioning, and I’m not going there.  Am pretty darn happy, being where I am, but yes, a little scared too. Still I figure it’s time to make up some excuse for the lack of blogging lately.

Well there have been a lot of changes.  If all goes well, Robin and I will have our first kid in February.  Being superstitious to some degree, I think it best not to count any chickens before they are hatched, but we are positive that all will go well and we’ll be on a new road of experiences both exciting and unfathomable. And any superstition I have arises from the fact that, well, I’ve just seen firsthand in my immediate family how fragile life can be, with my sister suffering a terrible accident at age 3 (at the time I was 6 months old), drowning in a pool for long enough to cause brain damage so that she had left only very minor motor functions and no speech ability for the rest of her life.  She died 6 years ago at age 33 from respiratory failure related to her lifelong condition.

So anyway, blogging everyday, well, sometimes I just can’t.  I have to think about things in a private way. And that’s all I’ll say about that. It’s hard to divide the public from the private when blogging (sometimes you couldn’t give a hoot about the ten art openings happening in one night, or something off the wall Glen Beck said).  So much immediacy is demanded that it’s hard to clear the personal from the table and then sift through politics or pop culture and emerge with a sound opinion, one worth reading amidst all the other millions of toasters and tastemakers out in the blogosphere. But we’ll be on it again soon, with some nice Danny Jock images to back us up.

Otherwise, as far as Fanzine, there is some particular news to report.  Part of the (virtual at times) office that I handle has now officially moved back home to Atlanta, GA.  And so first off we should give out the new address for mailings.  Send us CDs, books, DVDs, letters, ten ton anvils (no, actually don’t need any anvils please) etc, to:

The Fanzine
P.O. Box 5839
Atlanta, GA  31107  *no longer good, see the future

Can write c/o Casey McKinney if you like, though not necessary.  But that’s the blog for now, more soon, back to editing on a new piece from Thom Donovan on The Mobile Archive that’s on the way from Fanzine.  Check that soon before their panel discussion on October 6th. And look for more stuff from Atlanta I swear soon; there’s still a tad more settling to do, but events listings and so on are on the way.
Thanks for all the help lately, especially to my grandmother, Jacquelyn, and the rest of my familiy – mom, dad and stepdad, and I hope that some heavy loads can lighten for all soon.

And J. even though the Braves are done, the rain’s stopped short of a bigger catastrophe and there’s a perfect, just perfect, nip to the air.

-Casey

_{*Oh and btw, just so you knows we ain’t flauntin’, flexin’ or what-haves, we just financed the kind of car you get the tax credit for, not the “large automobile” of Byrne’s 80’s lyrics. And the house is a cute, but modest 2/1.}

**Oh and bonus good day, for getting a note back from Rick Moody who wrote one of my favorite all time books (Purple America among others).  Apparently that “Naked Goth Girls” song – well guess I must of half consciously nailed it with the comparisons – the Brechtian, Kurt Weill, Mack the Knife build-up waltz thing going on, well it’aint denied, let’s just say. Thanks Mr. Moody.  I’d be more of a sycophant, but I’m afraid it would dilute my true (and growing) admiration for that Wingdale Community Singers album you got coming forth. Congrats.

***As you may notice, we are coming out of the closet as a family operation.  I can only hope that once the kid (or kid(s) comes that we can look as cute in pics as Genesis P-Orridge and family did circa Psychic TV 1990(?). Though I probably won’t grow a Jedi lock hairdo.  It just won’t do (I fathom, whatever fathoming means.) Can’t find a good pic of this, so prob sounds insane until I do.