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Despite the numerous comments media maven Oprah Winfrey has made that rubbed me the wrong way, she hit the nail on the head with this one.

“Love is in the details.”

Jason Keese, a fellow Hipster, Bellevue Leader co-worker and the biggest Music Geek I know, puts together a list of his favorite albums released each year. As Christmas and New Year’s approach, it’s time, once again, for that highly anticipated list by this Iowa City boy. This year’s titles include artists of all ages and musical backgrounds.

Jason Keese, music geek

Jason sez: “I know, I’m a big Music Geek” (spoken in a nasally voice while pushing up his glasses and drooling over some rare vinyl import). He likes Mountain Dew, patty melts, clove cigarettes, pants from Banana Republic and, at times, is a self proclaimed Music Snob. Whatever bands you like these days, they suck. End of story.
“I hate people who like weird music just for weird’s sake. Don’t even get me started.”

Do you agree with Jason’s picks? Do tell.

These are in no particular order.
(* denotes with highest honors.)
 
– * Ted Leo and the Pharmacists – “Heart of Oak”
– Belle and Sebastian – “Dear Catastrophe Waitress”
– Stephin Merritt – “Pieces of April” movie soundtrack
– * The Postal Service – “Give Up”
– The Stills – “Logic Will Break Your Heart”
– The Shins – “Chutes Too Narrow”
– Josh Rouse – “1972”
– * Rufus Wainwright – “Want One”
– Cat Power – “You Are Free”
– * Fountains of Wayne – “Welcome Interstate Managers”
 
Honorable mention:
– Ryan Adams – “Rock ‘N’ Roll”
– Radiohead – “Hail To The Thief”
– Damien Rice – “O”
– Cursive – “The Ugly Organ”
– Twilight Singers – “Blackberry Belle”
– Ben Folds EP – “Lucky 16”
– Jayhawks – “Rainy Day Music”
– The Strokes – “Room on Fire”

I don’t get Friendster. I’m sorry, but I don’t understand it. I just finished reading an article in the November issue of SPIN about Friendster. Hell, I even have a Friendster profile. Scott, my Macworld buddy, sent me an invite a few months ago. Excited at the possibility of meeting new people around the Web, I joined. Since then, I’ve met no one outside of my friend, Scott. What gives? What am I doing wrong?

It’s almost 4 a.m. I’ve been up for nearly two hours. What gives? Perhaps it’s because I went to bed shortly after 8 last night. I was just so tired. I hope I’m not getting sick, just days before Christmas. No thanks. I don’t get sick often; but when I do, watch out. Illness tends to knock me on my ass.

***

My sister arrived safe and sound yesterday from California. She looks great! We had dinner at my mom’s house. Tasty. As an employee at Disneyland, Katie certainly has a different life than if she still lived (and worked) in Omaha. She often meets celebrities while working a the “It’s a Small World” ride at Disneyland. About two weeks ago, she met Nicholas Cage. As she helped him into the ride’s little boat, he smiled and said, “Thanks, Katie,” clearly reading her name tag. Katie said he’s tall and much skinnier in person. She also said he’s very polite. Yum!

A clever, witty take on surviving the holiday season, thanks to the deck writers/editors at The Morning News. Enjoy, won’t you?

Proper responses to the question popular among six-year-olds, ‘Does Santa really exist?’

– ‘Why don’t you ask Mommy’s boss?’

– ‘Yes. And if you’re lucky he’ll be at the racetrack this afternoon.’

– ‘Who do you think was Jesus’s father?’

– ‘Yes, but in a quantum mechanics kind of way, which means probably not, at least not for you.’

– ‘Only in the red states.’

– ‘If by Santa you mean your father, then no, he’s in Antigua with Aunt Joan, and I’ll thank you for reminding me.’

* * *

Plane tickets have been purchased. Car-rental reservations made and double-checked. Presents wrapped, cards written, and everything packed between socks for safe travel. The children are bundled up in easy-to-remove layers and provided with new comic books to keep them busy on the flight. The airport’s reached just in time, and after a possible cancellation, the plane departs for distant Seattle only 20 minutes late and peanuts are served.

Meanwhile, a certain untipped doorman has discovered the porn collection under the bed.

Lesson: That checklist was worthless. You should have left the kids behind, souped-up on PCP and armed with Tasers, like your wife suggested last year.

* * *

The holidays are hell on retailers. They have to hire extra staff and work long hours, and those smiles that seem so appropriately ingratiating are actually upside-down expressions of hatred for you and many generations of your forebears.

So it’s just the time to comment at the register on how tough it must be to deal with infuriating customers, then ask to have your present wrapped once, then wrapped again inside a slightly larger box, and this one wrapped inside a much larger box, until you’ve reached the eighth box and forgotten you wanted a gift-receipt tucked inside the first one.

Also, steal the security guard’s gun, and if asked, say it’s the only thing your one-legged leukemic daughter wants for Christmas. Later you can wrap up the gun for your office’s Secret Santa pool.

* * *

Holiday work parties can be fun! Remember:

1. The boss loves your impression of your whiny coworker. Your coworker loves your impression of your smarmy boss. Mix up Smarmy and Whiny and you get Fired.

2. If you don’t like talking to a coworker normally, don’t find out what happens after three margaritas.

3. Good dancers have no doubts about their talents. Similarly, good dancers are rarely hare-eyed accountants, Stewart.

* * *

Cab drivers wearing Santa hats get an extra dollar tip. Cab drivers with eggnog-breath and a way with just missing pedestrians do not get tipped. Cab drivers who would like you to sit on their antlers and tell them what you want from Santa get a tip on where they can stick their horns. Twenty dollars for the driver who helps you remember the words to the Hanukkah blessings.

* * *

Mistletoe may be worn on a fedora or baseball cap, but not from the belt.

* * *

Celebrities particularly enjoy being recognized during the holidays, so if you spot Robert De Niro ice skating in Central Park, or Kevin Spacey enjoying a late dinner in Chelsea, explain how his fancy watch is the only thing your cycloped son with the balsa-wood arm wants from Santa.

Keep the watch.

* * *

Who doesn’t love a good snowball fight on Christmas morning? Your dad, still in his bathrobe, who bought you all those gifts that you just opened, you little bastard.

* * *

The holidays are best spent in good cheer, enjoying time with family. You may think it’s all about you the rest of the year, but not so these precious few days in December. Chat with grandparents. Play with your nieces and nephews. When the baby spits up on your corduroy blazer, don’t call child services and demand they remove the little beast. This year, you will not do that again. Instead, wait and remember until you attend the child’s high school graduation. At a post-commencement party, walk up to the graduate with a crisp $50 bill in your pocket and, blind drunk, vomit on his brand-new wool suit. Hand the 50 bucks to his mother, saying, ‘Hope the cost of dry cleaning hasn’t gone up.’

* * *

Nothing’s nicer on Christmas Eve than turning on the television for the loop of a burning fireplace. Except a fireplace.

* * *

A yuletide story: Jeremy and Scott bought an apartment in September and have planned a festive Christmas party to celebrate their first holiday together as a couple in their new home. A week before the big event, they decorate their small two-bedroom with strands of tinsel, a large fir tree, and a wreath for each of the windows facing the street. Eggnog recipes are researched. Invitations are sent out over email. Two days before the party, Jeremy catches Scott in bed with a girl from work, a holly sprig between her teeth. The party is canceled.

Moral: Buying an overpriced condo in Manhattan during a seller’s market is dumb.

It’s now T-minus one month and counting until I return to the hallowed halls of upper collegiate academia. I must say, I’m bloody excited. The thought of dissecting the written word sounds delicious. My two classes next semester are a research and methods class, required for all graduate students in the English department at UNO; and Culture of the 1960s, a class that will discuss books, poems, essays and the like from one of the more volatile periods in American history. After the craziness of the Christmas season subsides, I plan to visit the UNO Bookstore and buy my books, something I haven’t done since January 2001. Maybe I’ll even pick up a folder or two, some new pens, a notebook…

The thought of that makes me happy :-)

Here’s a photo I took just moments ago. I looked out my office window at home and caught this glimpse of a gorgeous sunrise in progress.

Happy Wednesday, everyone.

After blitzing a handful of local retailers yesterday, I made some headway with my Christmas shopping. I was able to find gifts for my sister and 8-year-old cousin. Thank you, Santa Claus.

***

To those of you whom prepare me meals, be it in your restaurant or home, thank you. I haven’t been able to identify the difference, but the food I devour that’s prepared by others tastes far better than what I make at home. I know, I know: I’m no chef by any stretch of the imagination; however, the food you make has a certain flavor, a certain flair I couldn’t recreate if I tried. It’s delicious and I love you all for it.