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Goodbye, Scott Weiland

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So Scott Weiland has died. He was a longtime mess, it's true, but it's still sad. I always thought Stone Temple Pilots didn't quite get the respect they deserved -- they had to work hard to shake their "Pearl Jam knock-off" stigma, but they did so admirably. Their Purple album was perfection, and entirely theirs. STP set the backdrop to some of my best memories in high school and college. It's been a sad couple of weeks out in the world, and when that happens I tend to need to belt out a song or two. So I recorded Plush on my iPhone this morning. It isn't their best song (I'd vote Interstate Love Song) but it's certainly the first one that comes to mind when you think of STP. Virtually anyone who learned guitar in the early to mid-90s knows how to play it. Anyway, here you go -- enjoy. RIP Mr. Weiland.

Words and Music: Story of New Orleans

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Was it really 10 years ago when the levies broke, when Hurricane Katrina flooded and drowned so much of New Orleans? I can still remember the horrifying images and footage, the desperation and suffering, and the history of injustice and unrest laid bare for all the world to see.  This song came to me almost all at once during a meeting at work, weirdly enough. (I'm terrible at paying attention to work meetings. God, they're the worst, aren't they?) I scrambled to write it all down when I got back to my computer.  Weirder still, I got an out-of-the-blue email from a friend of mine literally minutes afterward -- the only person I knew or know who actually grew up in New Orleans. She helped me finish it with some desperately needed authenticity and sensitivity.  It's an optimistic song at heart, and we've since revisited the Big Easy for an incredible time at Jazz Fest in 2009 . But New Orleans is still  very much in the process of an uneven redemption...

Introducing House & Hammer, my new home improvement blog

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As you may know, I've dabbled in some home improvement  and DIY projects over the years -- like redoing our 1970s-era kitchen before our daughter was born. I've also been writing for the Boston Globe's Sunday real estate section a bit lately. And I've always been obsessed with houses and architecture. All this made me realize I should start a blog about that stuff -- so that's what I did! If you get a chance, check out House & Hammer, my new blog about real estate and DIY home improvement . As the name implies, it's partly about houses -- think  home ownership , home equity loans , and dream-house caliber "wish listings. " And then it's also about home improvement and DIY projects , like how to build this rustic end table built from reclaimed wood : So tell your friends! Tell your neighbors! And tell me what you think!

Two Kinds of People

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Bill Murray's character in the movie "What About Bob?" explains his divorce by saying, "There are two kinds of people in this world: Those who like Neil Diamond, and those who don't. My ex-wife loves him." Whether it's true or not, I'd argue that if you don't like Neil Diamond, either: a) you don't know what you're missing, b) you didn't party much in college, or c) his unbridled and unapologetic emotionalism makes you uncomfortable. All of which are understandable. Just don't discredit the man's songwriting chops, because he's one of the finest of our times. Anyway, my best friend Adam and I went to see Neil play the Boston Garden last night for an astounding 11 bucks each -- I mean, that's almost criminal -- and it was, as I kept telling the missus this morning, transcendent . Amazing. He even played a series of songs from his 1972 "Hot August Night" live album, every fan's favorite, just...

A St. Paddy's Day Gig? It Must Be Spring

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Well I'll be damned. The snow -- All. That. SNOW! -- is finally, slowly, mercifully melting. The Red Sox are playing baseball. And I've got a gig on St. Patrick's Day! Tuesday, March 17th Lucky's Lounge 355 Congress St. (corner of A Street, no sign) Boston, MA 02210 5:30pm-7:30pm / No cover Could it be... spring? With the sun and the grass and all that? Even if it's not here yet, I'm at least starting to think it may actually arrive someday, which is a major improvement from my outlook a month ago. Does this mean it won't snow again this season? No. Does it mean the Red Sox will be any good? Not necessarily, though I have my hopes. Does it mean I remember how to play all those Irish songs? God, I hope so.  The bigger struggle will be my old-man wrists. After 20 some-odd years of playing guitar, probably with bad technique, my left wrist aches even on a good day. After shoveling, I don't know, maybe three tons of snow every single...

Words and Music: The Scarlet Letter

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It's been 10 years and three -- that's THREE -- ( 3?!! ) -- Red Sox World Series championships since I wrote "The Scarlet Letter." To the 26-year-old me who watched the otherwise insignificant Aaron Boone knock my dreams out of Yankee Stadium in late 2003, this present version of reality is flat-out unthinkable . In a few ways, really. Let me explain. Of course, there's the Red Sox. You all know the story, perhaps not as intimately if you're not from around Boston, but you get the gist. Eighty-six years is a long, long time. (Cubs fans have endured even longer, but I'd argue it's worse when you come so close so often.) As a bright-eyed 10-year-old, I watched that ground ball go through Bill Buckner's legs in disbelief, and watched my dad pretty much have a breakdown. But there's more to it than that. In the fall of 2003, I was unemployed, trying to find love, trying to be a musician … and worried I was failing at all of it . But I lived...

In defense of a New England winter

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I know some (ok, apparently most ) people hate the cold, and so many eventually leave the Northeast for warmer places. I know this, although I don't understand it. But I guess I'm weird: I love the snow. And fires, and sweaters, and drinking beer by the fire while it snows (wearing a sweater, obviously). Granted, you shouldn't listen to me. I went to school in Syracuse, N.Y., where it snows well over 100 inches a year. Unfortunately that's not hyperbole . (Sidenote about Upstate N.Y.'s lake effect snow: It would be one thing if, like in Boston, the snow just dumped down 1 or 2 feet at a time, and then the next day was sunny and crisp and perfect for skiing and sledding. But in Syracuse, you get those big storms, and then the rest of the time it's just ... consistently gray and lightly snowing. It seriously snows like an inch a day, every day, all winter. It's like living downwind from an active snow volcano.) Anyway. Whatever, move to North Carolina...