Music for a time near the end of the world

It's the Big Show, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

Say good night, Petri

There's a reason, as it turns out, that the dinnerware at the Favog household includes a set of Petri dishes.

And, as it likewise turns out, there's also a reason the crisper drawer in the refrigerator hadn't been closing quite right. This happens to be the same reason my lovely and talented wife told me not to post this.

Ow!

That was Mrs. Favog hitting me in the shoulder just now.

Say good night, Gracie.

No. 2,000

Exactly 2,000 posts ago, on Oct. 8, 2006, your Mighty Favog set out on a new-media adventure.

It began here.

Almost four years ago, I was pretty sure where Revolution 21 -- in both its podcast and blog permutations -- was headed. But life happens, the world keeps turning, and you continually reassess your assumptions and re-evaluate what the hell you think you're doing.

Today, April 19, 2010, I think the basic aim is the same. Revolution 21 is still a gumbo comprised of both the sacred and the secular. And blues in the night.

But I think the focus has changed from trying to force some Catholic-secular-topical-musical mashup into being, then calculatedly foisting it onto a world determined to compartmentalize and segregate everything, dammit, to just being myself and saying screw the consequences. For better or worse, what I am is an undistillable compound of the sacred and the secular, which influence one another and result in . . . this.

Among other things.

And that is the constant, through 59 episodes of the Revolution 21 podcast and 98 (so far) of its successor, 3 Chords & the Truth.

Two-thousand posts. Damn. I wouldn't have figured this thing would last 200 when I started out in 2006.

Go figure.

Well, you kids play nice for a while. I think I'm gonna go celebrate on the grittier side of NoDo at the Happy Bar.

March 19, 1961

This is the world, as seen on TV, five days before my arrival at Our Lady of the Lake Hospital in Baton Rouge, La.

I quickly set about putting an end to this s***, thereby making the world safe for Fiddy Cent and William Hung. You can thank me later.

Snapshots! We got snapshots!

Well, OK. Snapshot . . . singular.

It occurred to me that I've never posted a current snapshot of myself on the blog, so I thought I'd remedy that today. Here's one of me taken downtown recently by Mrs. Favog.

Lovely city, Omaha is. And a regal god, if I do say so myself.

Not the God, mind you, but a god, to quote from Groundhog Day.