Knox Bronson ~ Riding The Wild Bubble

Such a fine line between clever & stupid.

Another journey around the Sun.

A listener has written to inform me that the proper spelling is "Fukkin' Eh," but he saw that on a Canadian television, so I'm not so sure.

I looked up the meaning of Knox.

Do you believe people can talk to animals? I do. Illustration by Maia Panos.

A column by an old friend and hero of mine in my youth, SF Chronicle writer Jon Carroll.

The song & the book.

I was so excited about this album and then I listened to a few of the song. Giles Martin is not his father.

Mentioned in this episode: the Berkeley Hills, an old girlfriend of mine, my mother, old family friends. 

Or is it just me? I don't think so.

About the amazing documentary on the music of the James Bond franchise from the sixties until now.

The city of Coalinga, where I built a community garden six years ago, will run out of water in two months. A few thoughts about the city and my time there. 

Leaving the old world behind as I made my way south.

Can't decide what to call the song, but I'm happy with it.

Douching the brain pan. Random thoughts of no consequence.

Gotta keep bringing the rubes in, but I think the whole ponzi scheme is running out of steam. Or steem.* *bad crypto joke.

Decades telescope into the distance and fade and fog, but some moments continue to shine as sharp as diamonds.

I wanted to share the whole song now that the lyrics are pretty much settled and I can play it passably.