This morning I was browsing Seattle Public Library site for books to put on my list. I couldn’t remember some authors who have been recommended to me so I searched Google and found a few resources I thought would be useful for others and compiled below:

The Modern Library 100 Best Nonfiction

The National Review 100 Best Non Fiction of the Century

Amazon’s Nonfiction Bestsellers List

New York Times Hardcover Nonfiction Best Sellers List

“Live fast, die last.” -guy who got on the bus at 3rd/Virginia

Recently, I asked a couple people who listen to more new music than me to help me bulk up my summer playlist. Here are their picks. Feel free to add more in the comments.

Sundberg in N.Y.C. suggests:

Vampire Weekend
Spiritualized
New DCFC
Elvis Perkins
Andrew Bird
Frightened Rabbit
Girl Talk (you can download this whole album for free … in the Radiohead-like fashion)
Fleet Foxes are supposed to be good (from Seattle) haven’t heard much of their stuff though.
Bonnie Prince Billy

Also, check out: www.daytrotter.com
They have tons and tons of free downloads of live session from many bands including a few from above. If you go to the site check out the archived session. A must have song is by David Bazan – “God rest ye merry gentlemen.”—- unreal.

The other day the power adapter for my PowerBook started sparking at the frayed, exposed section of the cord near the part that plugs into the computer. The white rubber around the cord cracked awhile ago and I’ve been hoping it would hang on until I was able to get a new laptop. Sadly this is not the case.

I researched online and found out I could buy another adapter for $80 or try to find one on eBay for half the cost. The summer before I replaced the hard drive so I’m not eager to plunk down any more money on it because I want to buy one of the new MacBooks rumored to be released in August.

Since I can’t charge my battery and I’m not sure I want to spend more money to keep an old laptop going I’m faced with the decision not to have a computer at home, which will cut down on my Internet use considerably.

Today I was crossing the 520 bridge around 8:30 a.m. on the 545 destined for Redmond and the water was the glassiest I’ve ever seen it—completely still except for a slight breeze rippling the water’s surface. Hazy sunlight all over. Only three boats on the water: small yacht lumbering along and two fishing boats sitting idly. Mt. Rainier towered over the water to the South. No wakeboard boats in sight.

Just noticed that three of the top five albums on Amazon are Coldplay albums:

The past few days I haven’t been connecting with friends. For three nights I’ve had the evenings all to myself. I took the opportunity to overcome my often extreme isolationism and I called or texted some friends. They were either busy, out of the state, or didn’t get the message until too late. Of course this would happen when I try to reach out to my friends who I think are becoming more like acquaintances these days. This is 95% my own fault.

Last Saturday my wife had a couple female family members coming over to our one bedroom apartment. Although they encouraged me to stay I knew that I didn’t want to be an intruder no matter how nice they were. Plus, I like it when women get together and talk amongst themselves. I think it’s enriching just as I enjoy hanging out with my group of guy friends.

I’ve been a fan of Coldplay ever since I saw the Parachutes video on MTV. Perhaps before then, but I distinctly remember sitting in front of the TV, captivated as the light changed from dim to bright while Chris Martin trudged across the beach.

That captivation took root on a California road trip with my friend Cara. Somehow the two of us ended up driving from my dorm parking lot in Seattle to our friend Caryn’s driveway in the Bay Area.

On a long stretch of highway between the California-Oregon border and Eureka I listened to Parachutes while Cara slept in the passenger seat. All that was in front of me was the car’s headlights on gray concrete with black veins running through it where it had been patched and sealed.