Okay, feeling a little less fatalistic this afternoon. But not much.

My sister has, by her own admission, lost her mind. Not one week after buying a little Basenji puppy, her and her fiance Jared decided that no dog should be without a playmate, and went out and picked up this 8 week old Weimaraner puppy. He's an adorable little guy, but look at the size of those paws! He's got a lot of growing to do! 80 pounds of it, apparently. Eek.

On Friday Veronica, Emilio, and I popped by the Paradise Rock Club to check out Johnny Marr's new band, The Healers. First off, what is it about the awful layout of Boston clubs? You'd figure that if you had a long narrow room, you'd put the stage at one of the long ends. Not so here ... you stick the stage square in the middle so that getting from the bar to the bathrooms is always an adventure. Anyhoo ... the show was quite good. Mr. Marr has certainly left The Smiths (and The The, and Electronic, etc. etc.) behind and developed into his own musician. Which he always was anyway, just had a certain Steven Morrissey label burned on him at an early age. Of course, that didn't stop the assorted s^#$heads in the audience from requesting "How Soon Is Now?". Spurned in that request, they proceeded to ask for songs from every Manchester band you can think of ... Oasis, The Stone Roses, The Charlatans. I was wondering how far back they would reach, if we would hear someone calling for "Love Will Tear Us Apart". Regardless, Johnny took it all with good humo(u)r. The band played an entertaining set of brit rock, with songs much more interesting than the run-of-the-mill indie fare. Ringo Starr's son Zak Starkey plays drums for the band ... hadn't seen him since The Who's Quadrophenia tour five or six years back.