As an immigrant, perhaps I appreciate your people’s ways more than you. As I am to be thankful this week, so it shall be.

Thankful for lit magazines in print, but accepting of the new wave of publishing.

Thankful for Iron Maiden, but feeling too old to wear their new skate shoes.

Thankful for great guest speakers, especially those with secret YouTube channels.

Thankful for Tuesday nights at Pop’s Blue Moon.

Thankful for the end of a somewhat successful soccer season.

Thankful for school-less days ahead, dedicated to new Gladwell and Hornby titles, both of which will endure some delayed spine-cracking.

Thankful for the young clerk at the closing South City Office Depot, who hooked me up with additional mad  savings during their outta business sale, as the small niceties are always appreciated.

Thankful for those savings, even on the cusp of Buy Nothing Day.

Thankful for a new Richard Linklater film, anytime, and doubly so when it stars Claire Danes.

Thankful for new writing opportunities in December.

Thankful to have friends who are carpenters, particularly after the neighbor’s pitbull sticks an oversized skull through the old, wooden fence.

Thankful for the Morimoto beer in my fridge.

Thankful to play the music of my youth on KDHX over the next two days (see list below) and over the holidays at The Halo Bar.

Thursday, KDHX: 2-4 p.m. on The Record Sto’, guesting for Doug Morgan; part one of a two-part, two-day STL old-school rock blowout

Thursday, KDHX: 7-8 p.m. on Literature for the Halibut, subbing for Ann, Jane Ellen, Stefene and Wendy; have about half the show figured out and Dick Gregory and Studs Terkel are involved

Friday, KDHX: 12-2 p.m. on Silver Tray; part two of the STL rock overview

Friday, RRCS: 3-4 p.m. at the RRCS; one hour of power, as the hip youth of St. Louis sell handcrafted items at the Third Degree Glass Factory; I just can’t say “no” to Mike Tomko

Friday, Royale: 8-ish-1:30, music that’s all good on the biggest bar night of the year, thrown down with my good pals Roxanna and Matt and Beth behind the bar

The proof of the title is now found in my basement, where several hundred DVDs have just been deposited. Folks, get yours soon, at several fine, local retailers.

Or see the films tomorrow night at the Tivoli.

Complete shilling, er, information can be found at the blog for “Old Dog Trick” and “The Pride of Louis,” called STLRockDocs. Lots of news!

… food in St. Louis is at Phuc Loi, Gravois and Spring. Many times, I’ve been at the only non-Vietnamese table in the place, a little spot which is reputedly take-out-only (thus, no bathrooms, no plan accordingly).

Ian Froeb may’ve changed my secret spot’s hidden-gem status. Rats. I mean, good for Phuoc Loi!

Greetings. Have a couple of new(ish) clips up on the St. Louis Beacon.

One details a party taking place on Cherokee this Thursday, an open-house on 11/11 for the magazine Eleven. That clip is here.

The other details the cooperative gallery/residential/studio space in Lafayette Square known as Open Lot. Click for that right here.

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Your support of KDHX during this pledge drive season is certainly welcome. I’d be remiss in not noting these particular slots, as all are worthy of your membership donation(s).

The Record Sto’, Thursday, November 5, 2-4 p.m., with Doug Morgan

Silver Tray, Friday, November 6, 12-2 p.m., with Doug Morgan

Dangerous Curves, Monday, November 9, 2-4 p.m., with Sherri Danger

Topic A, Monday, November 9, 7:30-8 p.m., with Amanda Doyle

Juxtaposition, Wednesday, November 11, 8-10 p.m., with Rob Levy

Silver Tray, Friday, November 13, 12-2 p.m., with Rob Levy

Number’s 314-664-3688 if you didn’t know.

Won’t lie, I find this quite a downer, though I also wish best of luck to all parties involved. FPM kept alive the long, great tradition of St. Louis bands who’d create a worthwhile holiday party by playing on Thanksgiving (or, in other cases, on Christmas), a group that included The Urge, The Unconsious and Brian Henneman. Seriously enjoyed every show these guys played in my presence and am glad I caught multiple gigs over the past few years, at venues as odd as Topshooters,the Lucas School House and even the Wesport Playhouse.

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Greetings, friends.

At this time of year we usually take the opportunity to inform you, our fans, about our upcoming Thanksgiving show. This year, however, is different. Instead, we have two serious announcements about the future of Fragile Porcelain Mice.

First, because of various circumstances, we will not be performing our annual Thanksgiving show this year. This news is a great disappointment to us–not just because we won’t be performing, but because we look forward to meeting up and chatting with all of our loyal fans who have celebrated the holiday of turkey and rock with us over the years.

Second, after much discussion we have decided that Fragile Porcelain Mice will no longer continue as a creative entity. This means that FPM will no longer be writing, recording, or performing new material. The door is still open for some shows; however, we have no plans to perform together in the near future.

We hope you understand. We are grateful for all your support throughout the many years. We hope to see you again.

Sincerely,

Dave, Mark, Scott, and Tim: Fragile Porcelain Mice

Life is good. Really, really good.

Saturday, November 7, Atomic Cowboy (6 p.m.-10 p.m.)

Sunday, November 22, The Halo Bar (10 p.m.-3 a.m.)

Friday, November 27, Rock N Roll Craft Show @ Third Degree Glass (3 p.m.-4 p.m.)

Friday, November 27, The Royale (10 p.m.-1:30 a.m.)

Friday, December 25/Xmas, The Royale (8 or 9 p.m.-1:30 a.m.)

Monday, December 28, The Halo Bar (post-The Unconscious/The Great Crusades)

Tuesday, December 29, The Halo Bar (post-Pale Divine/The Incurables)

To indicate some level of EXCITEMENT about the last two dates is to give meaning to the term UNDERSTATEMENT. Life is good, indeed.

While yours truly was in the employ of the Riverfront Times in the late ’90s, a miniature figurine of Golden State Warrior small forward Latrell Sprewell made the rounds of the paper’s staff. Over time, three different employees had the mini on their desks and, in each case, said employee received a short haircut. As you might guess, I was the third of the trio and decided to break the curse in mid-2000, taking the mis-labeled “Sprewel” home with me.

Since that time, the li’l guy’s always been around, sorta begging to be put to some sort of work. Recently, I figured that camera use might be stimulated if I put Spree in the car and shot him in/at: various public events, open houses, classrooms, restaurants, pubs, coffeehouses and anywhere else I might find myself. Sure it’s got a bit of the “traveling gnome” vibe to it, this idea, but I’ve never been too proud to appropriate.

Spree made his public debut a week back, at The Dewes Chili Cookoff 2009, a delicious way to introduce the figurine to a new, public role. Yesterday, Spree hopped in the car and went for a five-stop UE bender, on both the North Side and the East Side. The fourth locale was a recently-cleared, historic cemetary on the edge of Brooklyn/Lovejoy. Though the graveyard’s still not in a pristine state, the brush that had overwhelmed the area has been scaled way back, allowing visitors a chance to peek at the grave markers of folks a century removed from this mortal coil.

Sure, hanging around a graveyard (and a burned-out church and collapsing funeral home and demolished stockyard) on Halloween day’s a bit on the cliche tip, but that’s where we found ourselves. And where I dropped Spree.

Now, there’s probably some type of karmic offense that I’m not considering here, what with losing a figurine of this NBA macontent in a long-abandoned cemetary on the edge of the oldest black settlement in the region, but life’s what it is and I couldn’t let Spree litter the grounds of this quiet, sacred place. So I headed over today, unsure that I’d spot the three-inch Spree, but mostly sure that this was the last place the totem was photographed. Tipped on his side, in the partially-collapsed grave of one Nettie Green (“1895 – 1927, At Rest”), there was Spree, 24-hours removed from my care and looking none the worse for wear after a Halloween night in the boneyard.

The baller’s gonna travel with me from here-on-out, even if he’s lost another time, or two. But me and Spree share history.  Ain’t gonna leave him. Ain’t gonna lose him, without a fight.

At Flickr: Project Sprewel(l).