Music and Passion: Always in Fashion.

His name was Rico
He wore a diamond
He was escorted to his chair, he saw Lola dancing there
And when she finished, he called her over
But Rico went a bit too far
Tony sailed across the bar
And then the punches flew, and chairs were smashed in two
There was blood and a single gun shot
But just who shot who?

--Barry Manilow, "Copacabana"

Introductions out of the way and intent(s) clearly stated, let's get this bitch rocking--and like the bumper sticker says, "If this van's a-rockin', don't come a knockin'." Good advice, trustworthy advice, advice that was coined by the one and only J. Glerum. Sure, he'll try to be humble and pass it off as an old truism--"some dusty old chestnut that's been banging around for decades," he'll claim--but trust me: I was there when J. coined it, and I was there in the years following, as that statment's impact began to be felt.

I'm not going to lie, here: There have been some, shall we say, "issues" between J. and I over this blog. Yes, already. Call them growing pains, call them inevitable skirmishes, call them mere kerscuffles hardly worthy of mention. But they have to be acknowledged, and they have to be dealt with. J. wants some things out of this blog that I'm neither prepared for nor comfortable with, and I daresay vice versa--but this is no insurmountable impasse, friends! This is a mere speed bump on the road! A mere fleck on the glass, that, with a quick spritz of metaphorical Windex, will be banished forevermore, relegated only to memory! We will pass it, and Tag Team Back Again will prove worthy of its promise, will justify its great potential and hype.

Friends, it is Christmastime, that time of awkward greetings and forced social situations and uncomfortable hugs with creepy, malodorous relatives, and we are spread across this country--across this world--like butter scraped over too much bread, as a certain Tolkien character might posit. But let us allow Tag Team Back Again to bring us back together, to pull tight the thread that binds us. For whatever squabbles and tiffs might besmirch this vaunted enterprise, they shall be mere footnotes--if that!--in the grand history of our notable lives!

(See, J.? Now that's a fucking blog post. Jesus Christ. Get your shit together already.)

Ladies and Gentlemen...

Not normally one to toot my own horn (like a proverbial horn, or some real horn... like a rusting cornet or something I might have come across at a pawn shop and bought, only to later toss it carelessly on my heap of dusty, long-forgotten musical instruments purchased in failed attempts to develop a "creative" side (see also my: harmonica, TR-808 drum machine, Celtic harp, guitar (both acoustic/electric and electric, and two amplifiers), and a didgeridoo), it's pretty hard to overstate the importance of this new venture in my life. I am speaking, of course, of the Tag Team back again blog.

Not to wax poetic too long about how much fun this is going to be for me personally, and hopefully for you all as well, but I think we all know what a joy it is to read Erik's writing. I miss the days in college when we would sit in the Coyote office and bullshit for hours on end (and play with lightsabers purchased on the Coyote's dime). Those were good times. I guess, more than anything, this blog will be a way for me to get back on that wavelength with him, and hopefully with all of you as well (please use the comment feature - don't be a blurker). Sure, Erik is in Portland now, and sure he has a "job," and sure he and I haven't talked as much as I wish we had over the last few years for this reason or that, but now is...NOW! Now is different! Now is good.

So, with each of our individual introductions now out of the way, let's bring on the random, frequently offensive and always friendtacular blogging!

Party On, Party People--Let Me Hear Some Noise!

Oh, I know it's been a while! I know. But guess who's back? Erik and J., baby! Yeah, you read that right: Erik and J.

I won't bore you with the details--let's keep this svelte, smooth, shaven. A few days ago, J. and I were talking (of fine art, of women, of sonatas), and we realized: We should have a blog. Yes, sure, J. already has one, and I contribute regularly to one for my job. But fuck those, man. Those blogs, great as they are, are the equivalent of my Alzheimer's-stricken grandmother: shaky and old and boring and rambling and reeking of stale Werther's Originals. This, on the other hand? Oh, shit yes! This is, as the Fresh Prince would say, "the new hotness." Can you handle the new hotness? Yes! You can! Probably!

What's this blog going to be all about? Pretty much everything. But mostly it'll be about friendship. J. lives in Boise; I'm in Portland. And while distance might have separated us from our halcyon collegiate days, mere miles can never diminish our friendship. So now, with this combined blog, we shall join forces once again. I can't tell you how excited I am to be kicking it with J. again, even if only via the internet. J.'s a great guy--smart and kind and full of both mirth and booze--and I enjoy his company so. This blog's going to be a blast for us to write, and hopefully it'll be a blast for you to read. You see, if the iron-clad bond between J. and myself has taught me one thing over these many years, it's that nothing's more important than friendship. The friendship of me. The friendship of J. The friendship of our friends--and that means you, dear reader. So let's think about that. Let's think about friendship.

Now... how about J. and I get this party started? Eh? Eh? Who's with us? Will it be you... friend?