Friday night at 8pm

With the light draining slowly to the east, I went out for my shamefully short twenty minute (if that) jog. The 7-8pm range on Friday can be strangely quiet, it's that no-man's-land between aggressive bursts of newly released office workers and the late night, in it to win it TGIFers. So...it was kind of quiet as I trekked down the last stretch of my just enough to get the heart rate up constitutional. A trickle of music and a voice trailed out of a local bar, the voice was decidedly untrained (karaoke). A few bars and a warble and there you are, Stairway to Heaven. I could not help but feel sad and heartened by this meandering karaoke rendition. With a very weak voice, he got the led out all the same. I'm sure there were cheers, when that inevitably endless performace concluded.

Why would anyone want to see stills from Teen Witch??

This project was born of a meditation on the culture we leave behind. While the main focus of Future Excavations lies with tangible it must be recognized that there are entire circles of cultural trade that exist predominantly in the virtual realm, at various trade-posts on the "Information Superhighway"...if the proverbial "they" even call it that anymore. Each photo was found on this here internet; they are mostly humorous and nostalgic (except for the cat in the hoodie, that's just cute). They have roots in my upbringing, as they do many an American child brought up in the 80's.

All this is meant to say I'm working it out, the content and quality of the messages this online incarnation holds for you, the inquisitive seekers of answers and rainbows and things. It is not lost on me that you have most likely found your way here by way of messages placed carefully about the city; it is my intention to reward you for your efforts (as well as your keen perception) as so few are willing to expend excess energies these days.

Stick with me folks.


---jc---

Remember paisley?

Hipsters...le sigh.

How...

...how could this happen???

Darknesses

When I was a senior in High School...

....my friend CL and I decided to convince our Cross Country Coach (KF) I was Belgian (so not Belgian in any way). My nickname? The Awful Waffle...of course.