I think back in September of '06 I had a different feeling when I sat down to do Uncle Warren's Attic #2. More relaxed, having more fun — it wasn't "I have to do a show." I think that's where I want to get back to.

So, while I'm assembling the new one, check out the old — #2. Or #3. Or Number nigh-yun.

It's nice of you to visit, even though I haven't been here for a while. So here's a secret you can tell your friends and family: Uncle Warren's Attic #55 will arrive soon.

I've spent the last couple of days listening to UWA #2-5, and I think going "back to the basics" may make the show fun to make again. I found some fascinating stuff poking around in the Attic last night, and I think you'll get a kick out of 'em.

So consider this viral marketing - if you know anyone who has enjoyed the show in the past or might like what I did back in those early shows, pass the word. Thanks!

It's possible you have heard that I'm bringing back Ikthuscast, my little "15 minutes of Jesus twice a week" celebration of independent Christian music. And that announcement may have caused you to wonder if there will be an Uncle Warren's Attic #55 and beyond. The answer to that question is: Yup. At least I think so. At least I plan to. The Attic is a little more labor intensive, so I can't say when fer sure. But I'll keep you updated.

I don't know what happened, really. I just woke up one morning, realized I hadn't done a podcast for a while, and my brain said, "That's OK, you're done for now."

I suppose I could write about the press of daily stuff — what B.W. Richardson refers to as "the quotidian' — but it's not that. Something inside just shifted and I didn't want to do podcasts. Nothing personal, I just had a "been there, done that" moment, and I don't have anything more to toss out.

Oh, The Imaginary Revolution thing? I suppose B.W. being weeks behind on that project had a little something to do with it, but the Attic could have gone on without him. Yeah, I'm irritated about that, but as you know it's hard for me to stay mad at Richardson.

When I'm having fun with Uncle Warren's Attic, there's no fun quite like it, so I'm not going to close the door and walk away forever. But I have closed the door and walked away. Sorry about that, and thanks to everyone who has sent words of encouragement over the course of my 53.5 episodes.

I like the idea of UWA too much to let go of it. I've just misplaced the spark for it. It's around here somewhere and I'll reboot down the road a ways, no doubt. After six weeks without a show, though, I figured I owed you at least a few words to say, yeah, the podcast is on hiatus or whatever you want to call it. Thanks for listening!

I've been doing some musing of late about how to reboot my various creative efforts to improve the quality and consistency. The problem is not in your set. I hope to be completing the muse process in the very near future and bear some fruit.

Thank you for your patience, and feel free to browse to make sure you've sampled the entire set of 53 trips to the attic, starting from Day One — not to mention the semi-classic episodes of The Imaginary Bomb that started my podcasting career.

Meanwhile, please stand by.

Yeah, yeah, I know, get up to the Attic, w.p., all that stuff is piling up and you haven't been sorting through it much lately. Spring cleaning reminds you about the accumulation of stuff like nobody's business.

There'll be a touch of sadness in this episode, as I'm going to devote a little time to the memory of a friend who passed away a couple of weeks ago — not to mention Danny Federici. But I found some fun stuff to remember them by, so you won't have to wear black to this gathering.

Maybe I take too much time putting these little adventures together, maybe I don't work on them fast enough, but I enjoy the finished product, and I hope you do, too. I just wish I could finish a little more frequently. Oh well, it's always fun or else they wouldn't get finished. Watch this space.

A long time ago in a state far, far away, I somehow encountered a fellow teenager named Wally Conger, who like me was a comic book fan. Oddly, we became friends, odd because we never met (to this day!), he was a Californian and I was a New Jersey kid. There's something in our makeup that overcomes that little 3,000-mile gap (now more like 2,000 since I've become a converted Badger). He published fanzines, one of which was called Fantasy World and featured superhero and science-fiction stories. I contributed tales of a guy I named H-Man.

I mentioned FW and H-Man when I put Wally in touch with the world of Myke Phoenix, and he understood completely judging from the review he posted this week. Thanks Wally!

I decided to do a small celebration of UWA hitting the big 5-0. These are teeny-tiny works of art, doncha know, and producing 50 works of art is kind of something, more or less, isn't it?

Anyway, I'm planning a new theme song, an explosive kickoff, and musical selections from many of the folks who have made the first 49 shows so memorable. Watch, er, listen for Uncle Warren's Attic #50 sometime over the next few days!

By now there's some fidgeting in the front rows as people figure out it's been more than a month since my little medical episode and still no sign of UWA 48. I went through my list of possible excuses and couldn't find one that would sound convincing.

It's funny, on New Year's Eve I set a modest goal of churning out a podcast every other weekend. That didn't seem so hard at the time. Still doesn't. I just have to sit down and do 'em. Maybe by setting a schedule, I doomed myself by making it seem like work or something. Whatever the reason, according to that schedule, Show #52 is coming up this weekend.

I keep doing things like write little posts about doing the show instead of actually doing the show. I don't know why I — oh, I'm writing a little post about doing the show, aren't I?

Hold that thought.

I saw Jay & the Americans somewhere around 1970 and remember being blown away by the live performance of "Cara Mia." That's not an easy song to sing! You can tell Jay Black was still blowing away audiences 30 or so years later when this recording was made ...

Guilty Pleasures: Red and I like to relax with American Idol, and this has been a pretty good season so far. (Holy moley, how 'bout that smokin' "She's A Woman" by Chikezie!)

One of the folks we're rooting for is the lovely Brooke White, who (like most people) had a life before we met her on TV ... This is a song for an independent CD she did in 2005 called "Songs From the Attic" (Hey, I do like this girl), which seems to be out of print now. I saw one copy online for $79 — OK, I don't like her that much ...

So here I was, looking forward to doing a new UWA this weekend - the goal is to show up every couple of weeks now - and working along doing my thing, which got me home late Thursday night.

It seems I have a touch of stomach flu or something, and I didn't notice how queasy it was making me until I lost consciousness and landed with a thud on the bathroom floor. After a few minutes, I heard shouting in the distance, and as I became more aware again, I realized it was Red yelling at the 911 operator that launching the ambulance was more important than telling the operator what my birthday is. She's very practical that way. She had heard the crash, pushed her way into the bathroom and found me lying completely unresponsive with my head bent over the side of the tub. The poor thing thought I'd had a stroke, which runs in my family.

I'll spare you the gruesome details, but the bottom line seems to be that I had gotten myself dehydrated, and several hours and a couple of saline bags later, I came home for a long wintry weekend of convalescing. The experience has sapped some of my ambition for podcast-producing, so I hope you'll forgive a slight delay. Tank you berry much.

OK, it's hard to get tanned and rested when you wake up Sunday morning and it's 13 below zero, but the vocal chords are rested, the cats have received enough attention, and I'm preparing for a return to the airwaves — err, to the podwaves — as February arrives.

In addition to playing with the kitten, I have been ramping up a venture that involves the ubiquitous Brian Wilson Richardson, whose novel The Imaginary Bomb was the subject of my first podcasting venture the summer before last. The I-Bomb is finally available in print form, and as editor and publisher I heartily recommend you consider parting with a modest amount of money so you can hold this little effort in your own hands. The goal is to publish four different books this year, and this is the first.

Watch for a resumption of podding behavior before the Super Bowl kicks off, alas without my beloved green-and-gold.

Cross-posted to Ikthuscast

For a variety of reasons, I'm temporarily suspending my podcast activities, but I assure you the passion remains and I don't intend for this to be a lengthy break. I apologize to anyone who looks forward to these little bursts of creativity.

In the meantime, enjoy the upcoming NFC Championship Game at Lambeau Field. Go, Pack, Go!

Call it my ahtistic temperament. I finished Uncle Warren's Attic #44 and just decided it wasn't what I was shooting for. Hate to leave so much space between shows, but I'm going back to square one on this one. See ya soon - sorry about this!

Click here to download the now-famous Uncle Warren's Attic #6, featuring my hookup with an online news network that goes terribly wrong when Mars invades.

UWA 41 coming soon. Really! Would I make that up?

I don't know why I've been away from the microphone. No excuses. Just ... well, no excuses. When you hit a lazy streak, you're just lazy. That's all.

I've been accumulating a lot of them thar old-fashioned CDs that spin at 78 rpm and have only one song per side. Don't be surprised if the next show (or several of 'em) is (are) a bit heavy on those. But that's a good thing, I think.

Talk to ya soon.

Um, hi there, ladies and gentlemen. Thanks for stopping by to see if there's anything new. As you can see, well, here's something new.

I keep wandering up to forage around in the attic and I've found some cool stuff. I just haven't had time to put together a podcast.

You may have noticed that I've been keeping a steady dose of Ikthuscasts going, and maybe you suspect that I care more about that show than Uncle Warren's Attic. No, no, this is my first podcast and my first love, and if you're familiar with both you know the Attic is a much more complicated production. It takes 2-3 hours to finish a 30-minute UWA, compared with a matter of minutes for Ikthus. I often have a few minutes available, not so often 2-3 hours.

What I'm planning at this stage is to return with a weekly dose of UWA no later than early September. My best guess is "the new season" of UWA will start just before the regular season of the NFL opens. I'll try to keep you updated with a note or two or three here.

Thank you, and God bless America. We now turn to CNN, Fox News, et al, for instant analysis of how many times this speech was interrupted by applause and what that all means.

While you're waiting for a new edition of Uncle Warren's Attic (hey, it's summer, have you been outside lately?!?), here's a fantastic video of a fantastic Jonathan Coulton tune ...

It's been a busy couple of months, but I expect to be back more frequently again soon. I apologize to the ever-shrinking but supportive bunch of you who keep checking back and stay subscribed. Coming soon, the long-awaited Aileen Stanley story, a look at the work of Scotty MacGregor, and a dramatic reading of an important 1957 essay about why the United States should claim the moon as its sovereign territory. What fun!

I also plan to debut a new project very soon, which I'll tell you about in Uncle Warren's Attic #31. Watch for UWA 31 sometime next week.

Have fun in the meantime!

It has been a while since I provided an update about Pumpkin a k a Speedbump, the kitten whose discovery at 4 weeks along U.S. 41 I have chronicled here and here and here. With the hibernation of the Green Bay Free Radical, I move these musings into the Attic.

This morning I chased Pumpkin off the top of the fish tank, where he was nudging his nose along the 1-inch gap between the edge of the lid and the side of the tank. I thought I'd stop him before he realized his paw could fit in there - not that his declawed little appendage could cause any damage, but why tempt fate?

A remarkable side effect of having a new kitten is that the former kitten, 3 1/2-year-old Hemi, has become even more affectionate. Always a lover, Hemi has made more frequent trips to available laps, where he purrs as if to remind us that the orange one is not the only cute little friend in the house.

They say staring at fish for a time lowers blood pressure and relieves stress. I say the same thing about a houseload of cats. I don't necessarily say that while cleaning the litter box or investigating a 3 a.m. crashing noise, but on the whole I'm healthier for the feline companionship. At least I feel healthier. They're so cu-u-ute ...

Speaking of stress, while worrying about the podcast being late, I came to the sudden conclusion that Uncle Warren's Attic is not on a schedule. UWA 23 will be up soon. What does "soon" mean? It means "soon." I'll get back to you on that one!

I just noticed that the cost of the Firefly DVD set has dipped down to Uncle Warren's recommended price for buying DVD sets - $19.99 or less. My attic is packed with stuff from Firefly and its cinema sequel, Serenity. If I had to toss away everything TV-related I own except one thing, this would be it.

(OK, now, ask for the sale, UW.) If you want to own what in my opinion is the best TV show ever to grace the tube, click here to purchase through the Uncle Warren's Attic A-Store. I'm not sure if this price is permanent or temporary, so I'd suggest doing it now. Thanks!

I'm on the verge of declaring Fritzi Ritz the official Aunt of Uncle Warren's Attic - OK, Red might object to that, so maybe I'll declare Aunt Fritzi the official cartoon mascot of the Attic. obviously Fritzi and I are kindred spirits - she talks about old music a lot, her T-shrts are a constantly changing homage to pop music (today "Property of Apple Records," yesterday "Del Reeves," last Friday "Wild Weeds Fan Club") and today, we learn that she has an attic full of old shtuff.

"I keep 'em all," Nancy's aunt says, "I've got 78s, 33 1/3s, 45s, 8-tracks, reel to reels, cassettes, Betamax, VHS, laser discs ..." Sigh! Why can't she be real? (Oops ... sorry, Red, just kidding!)

Nancy was one of the guilty pleasures of my childhood; even though it usually had a silly or even lame premise, I kept coming back to the adventures of Nancy, Sluggo and Fritzi Ritz, and Ernie Bushmiller became a name in the back of my mind. Bushmiller died in 1982 and the strip, when I checked in from time to time, seemed to be foundering. The current creators, Guy and Brad Gilchrist, have revived Nancy bigtime, and Fritzi has been reinvented as a very hip but aging baby boomer - not that you'd notice the "aging" part.

The Gilchrists have made Fritzi's chest a continuing homage to pop music - many's the time I've gone searching and found lost treasures by doing a Web search for the obscure reference on her T-shirt - such as the aforementioned Wild Weeds. Go ahead click the link; I never heard of these guys, but now I really want to hear them.

IMHO, Fritzi has supplanted Vicki, the biker alter ego of Rose Gumbo, as the sexiest babe on the comic strip pages. And now she has an attic, too. Sigh! Why can't she be real? (Oww! I said I was kidding, Red ...)

For the first time, I have a clear idea what the next two shows will be like. Browsing through the songs at the Podsafe Music Network the other night, I suddenly started imagining them in the context of an oldtime top 40 show. If it's as much fun as it sounded in my brain, UWA 20 will be a milestone. I'm working up sounders and jingles right now, and I'm trying to recruit Red for her podcast acting debut; watch for it in a few days. There should be good rockin' that night.

Then I got a listener suggestion that instead of trickling out the remaining tunes in my collection of records in the Batman series of kids' 45 rpm tunes, I do a "Batman band blowout" episode. It has a certain appeal. He also let me know the songs were once collected in an album and the band has a real name: The Merriettes. They're not credited on the 45s. At the moment, I'm slating that one for UWA 21. But I have to admit, these little tunes are easier to take one at a time. When I digitized the remaining six tunes in one sitting, my brain exploded. I may yet chicken out on this idea.

My friend B.W. Richardson put down some good thoughts this morning about the classic Steppenwolf album "Monster." Now, my mind doesn't often go straight to Steppenwolf when I think about my favorite rock bands, but its stuff has weathered time well. "Monster," in particular, seemed to be outdated at one point in recent history, but revisiting it now, it may be more relevant than ever.

I sometimes forget that the first rock concert I ever attended was a Steppenwolf date. The memories are faded - I remember John Kay with his sunglasses - the fascinating instrument the guitarist put in his mouth that allowed his guitar to talk, literally - and something that you're not allowed to see anymore: a smoky haze over the whole auditorium. That last fact is indicative of why "Monster" is still a song for our times.

According to the stat machine, there's been a precipitous drop in the number of people downloading the show. This is what Dave Slusher must have meant when he said the true measure of a podcaster is what he would do when almost no one is listening: If he quits then, he wasn't in it for the right reasons. (I'm paraphrasing.)

Well, I'm doing this because it's just too darn fun. Maybe a poddy audience is like the proverbial bar of soap: If you try to hold it too tight, it slips away. Maybe I've been thinking too hard about how to keep the audience happy, when what made the audience happy in the first place was I was just having fun poking around in my attic. As long as most of you are gone, maybe I'll just throw what makes me happy into the next show.

Of course, the other possibility is that the stat machine is malfunctioning again and the audience is bigger than ever ... in which case, talk amongst yourselves and ignore this note.

UPDATE: OK, now I'm sure it's a malfunction. The counter hasn't changed for three days, and I've been getting comments from people who've downloaded the show within the last three days. Yippee! You still like me! You really like me! (Down, Sally.)

I haven't been able to get that Billy Murray-Aileen Stanley song out of my head, so I went Googling for Aileen this morning and found this comprehensive review of her life. I'm drinking up the available recordings, so don't surprised if she turns up on the show sometime soon.

If you enjoyed "Keep Your Skirts Down, Mary Ann," make sure you check out "Bridget O'Flynn" at the bottom of the Jazz Age link!

It seems there are only about 20 Christmas songs, and they get repeated in endless permutations for six weeks. "Oh Come All Ye Faithful," "Hark the Herald Angels Sing," "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen," "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" and the other 16 songs seem to have been recorded by every artist on Earth, and several times each.

But still ...

Today in church "Silent Night" reminded me of the glisten in my mom's eyes when she heard it sung ... by anyone.

And "Glo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ria, in excelsis deo" brought me back 23 years to the time a children's choir, string quartet and the adult choir sent my heart soaring and converted "Angels We Have Heard On High" from an also-ran into my favorite Christmas carol.

When the aches and pains of the years have healed or at least faded, the sweet memories remain. The familiar carols carry us back to happier times, comfort food for the soul.

Merry Christmas and/or any other holiday greeting you prefer!

I started trying to figure out how to produce a podcast using the GarageBand and iTunes software on my new iMac - my Christmas present to myself - and as often happens when I work with Macintosh stuff, I am overwhelmed with how downright easy it is.

My original plan was to record the UWA Christmas show the same as the first 13: Tape it on my trusty old reel-to-reel recorder, dub it to CD, and convert it to .mp3 on the sturdy old Windows 98 machine. That was based on the thought that I probably couldn't figure out a new program (GarageBand) quickly enough to do the Christmas Show justice.

My new plan is to use my new toy. I just love it! Why doesn't everybody own a Mac?

Well, this site is now powered by a lovely new iMac. I thought about it and researched for a very long time before pulling the trigger the other day. I'm still in the process of transferring files from one place to t'other, taking the software for a test drive and such.

This means at some point I'll be able to record the show directly on GarageBand without the intermediate steps of assembling it on the old Pioneer RT-707 reel-to-reel recorder and dubbing it onto a CD-RW, then walking it over to the computer to transform it into an .mp3. Whether that will improve your appreciation of my ancient recordings, or suck the analog joy completely out of the equation, remains to be seen.

I haven't started putting the Christmas show together yet, but I'd better get started before next Monday, hadn't I? Stay tuned! And/or stay subscribed!

I've just discovered what, to me, is a new podcast - the Evil Genius Chronicles. Dave Slusher has actually done 191 episodes of his show, and while I can't yet speak for the first 190, I was extremely impressed by #191, which you can download here.

In addition to great tunes from Sufjan Stevens and Michelle Malone, the show has a number of interesting clips from other podcasts tied together with musings by Slusher about new media and the nature of art and creativity. How interesting? It influenced the way I think about Uncle Warren's Attic, in ways that likely will become apparent almost immediately.

I can't recommend the Evil Genius Chronicles highly enough - at least #191.

UPDATE: Whoops! I was sending you to the wrong link when you clicked on "Evil Genius Chronicles." Try it now. Sorry!!!

So that you can browse and shop in time for Christmas, here's the work in progress known as the Uncle Warren's Attic astore.

I played you a piece by guitarist Keith Cooper back in Uncle Warren's Attic #3. Now he's put together a CD called "A Guitar's Carol," which has 11 wonderful tracks, ranging from amazing solo efforts on "The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy" and "We Three Kings of Orient Are" to festive arrangements of "Oh Come All Ye Faithful" and "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" to an atmospheric rendering of "Carol of the Birds." It's the best new Christmas music I've heard in a long time.

It's only available now in "pre-release" form, as an insert to a Christmas card that's available only at Keith's concerts (we saw him over the weekend) and over the Web. You absolutely should check it out.

It figures, after I bragged about my amazingly retro equipment last week, that my amazingly retro equipment would start rebelling as I attempt to throw together UWA #11. I believe it's in the category of temporary setbacks, but it's a tad irritating nonetheless. But never fear, the problem is not in your set, we'll be up and at 'em in no time ...

I made a good on a promise Tuesday. It wasn't a big promise, but it was.

Last winter Red and I were watching the early stages of the annual "American Idol" competition when I sat up and took notice of a young man who was helping his lady raise her two kids. She wept with gratitude about how the man was willingly giving up his dream of doing something with his music, in order to take care of her and her children in a more "practical" way.

It was a sweet story of sacrifice, typical of the heart-tugging tales that make the show so appealing - until he began to sing. Nothing typical about that voice, a powerful rock and roll voice dripping with passion.

"That guy's going to win," I said to Red. "And I can't wait to buy his album." This was the beginning of the competition, where they cull out the best 200 or 300 or however many it is who are "going to Hollywood, baby." But from the moment I heard that story and heard him sing, I expected Chris Daughtry to win.

Every week the guy was head and shoulders the best performer on the show - not the flashiest or the prettiest, just the one who left everything he had on stage, just the one who kept me coming back to watch and to listen. From the buzz around the show, I wasn't alone. Even the judges started saying they couldn't wait to buy his album.

Daughtry is the best rock voice I've heard in five (!) years of on-and-off viewing of "Idol." Maybe that's what happened - they're looking for a pop music icon, not a rocker.

When he was eliminated four spots from the end, Red and I looked at each other in shock. In hindsight, it probably was a blessing. Judging from past entries by "Idol" winners, I can't imagine winner Taylor Hicks being able to turn in an album as free-wheeling and passionate as "Daughtry," the album that came out Tuesday. The "Idol" machine just likes its idols to be more polished and predictable than this.

Turns out Daughtry's a pretty good writer, too - his name is in the credits on 10 of the 12 songs. First impression: Not disappointed. Very tasty, hard-driving, passionate rock, just what you'd think he'd deliver with his new band. In his acknowledgements he thanks his wife, Deanna, for her support, and tells her and the kids how much he loves them.

He also begins by saying, "I'd like to thank God for the gift of music and my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, for being the greatest example of love I know." Huh. Now that I didn't expect, but I guess I'm not surprised. He never preached a word, except in the way he loved his family.

Yeah. I bought his album the day it came out. Had to. Needed to. I promised.

If I've piqued your interest about the mono versus stereo versions of Sgt. Pepper, there are a few places out there where it's all documented. Here's a good one.

I'm still not completely "at home" with the Liberated Syndication blog software, but it has a huge advantage over Blogger - I haven't figured out how to attach an .mp3 player to the blogspot page. So I'm moving unclewarrensattic.com over to libsyn for people who'd rather just listen to the show than download it, but I'm keeping unclewarrensattic.blogspot.com for the time being for folks who like the pictures. Wherever you find it, the show is the same. Enjoy!

Something went kerflooey with the file when I tried uploading the next edition of "Uncle Warren's Attic" Wednesday night. I don't have the time to try it again this morning, so I will work on the problem Thursday night. Meantime, talk amongst yourselves, play a game of Scrabble, and watch this space for another exciting episode of UWA. Humble apologies.

There are two things you can do when you see a train wreck about to happen. In real life, you just kind of watch in fascination and wish there was something you could do to stop it, knowing you're helpless.

But when you're an author and the train wreck is going to happen to your beloved characters, you can turn into Superman, throw yourself in front of the train and stop the durn-fangled wreck from happening.

Here's what happened: Warren Bluhm and I promised Chapter 1 of The Imaginary Lover, the second story of The Imaginary Age, would appear in a podcast Sept. 1. We did it. No sweat, really. I was cheerfully rolling along writing subsequent episodes when I spotted the oncoming train.

This is a very nifty story about the three unlikely heroes of The I-Bomb and how they help their friend Snooky when her bar becomes the acquisition target of some unsavory characters. But just as I reached the place where I hit writer's block when I first wrote the story 15 years or so ago, I realized why I hit that roadblock: There's a better story that could be told starting with the same premise.

Options: 1. Tell Warren to keep on telling the story as I first wrote it, and switch gears at an appropriate spot in the action. Or 2. Put the podcast on hiatus and start revising the story from scratch.

As you know, at first we picked Option 1, and the plan was that I was going to keep writing on the fly. It actually sounded like fun, trying to finish the novel while the early chapters were being released a day at a time. The reason this quickly started looking like an oncoming train wreck is that as I fleshed out the new scenarios, I saw ways that I should be setting the stage way back in those early chapters. Warren thought we could get around that by simply explaining that the podcast will be kind of a "first draft" but on second thought I think you, the reader/listener, deserve the polished draft, not a half-baked early stab at it.

So, quicker than some maniac Fox executive, we're canceling the show, pulling the plug, so that I can have the luxury of working this little tale out the way it deserves to be worked out. I owe no less to my good friends Bob, Pete, Baxter, Snooky and Eddie.

Wait a frickin' minute, you ask - who's Eddie?

Hee hee hee. I'll let you know in a few weeks.

-- B.W. Richardson
12:01 a.m., 9/4/2006

"The bar! You’ve got an answer about the bar!"

"Yes, sir," said the man who had tapped George on the shoulder. "But I’m afraid it’s still bad news. She absolutely, positively refuses to sell."

The jagged scar under George Hermann’s mouth twitched. "You’re kidding me. How could a trailer-trash barmaid refuse that much money?"

It was a rhetorical question, but the messenger wasn’t bright enough to catch that. "She told our people to stick the money where the sun don’t shine -- um, doesn’t shine -- and had her bouncer escort them to the door. So you see, we have a little bit of a problem."

"It’s no problem at all," George Hermann said as he accepted a towel from the other, silent man. "Send one more, especially persuasive salesperson. And if that still doesn’t do the trick," he added with a wink, "have her killed."


I'm still typing furiously and barely 20 percent finished, but here's the deal: The first chapter of sequel to The Imaginary Bomb, tentatively titled The Imaginary Lover, will debut Sept. 1, 2006. Same setup as last time: Words by B.W. Richardson, voice and music by Warren Bluhm. It'll be available at the I-Bomb site, where other surprising aural pleasures may be forthcoming before that date.

This is probably going to be an interesting fall for me and Warren. But patience, my friends. These things must be done delicately ...

Now that the story is completed, here's a handy-dandy place to get all of the episodes from the beginning ... and keep your ears open for future announcements!

Chapters 1-3

Chapters 4-6

Chapters 7-9

Chapters 10-15

Chapters 16-18

Chapters 19-21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

OK, I hedged my bet - remember I said the Imaginary Bomb finale would be available "on or around" July 4. It looks like it's going to be "around," not "on." Sorry, just had too much fun celebrating Independence Day with friends and family - but come back in a day or two and we'll have The Big Finish for you. Thanks! Warren

First, Chapters 7-9 might be a little delayed this week, and it's my fault. When I first wrote The Imaginary Bomb back in 1989, my views on certain subjects were a little different, and the story you're hearing now has been revised in a few ways - especially to clarify who's ultimately responsible for the mayhem that occurs here and there.

When he started working on this week's chapters, Warren found a few places where I should have made some of those revisions, so he placed them back in my hands to make those clarifications. Well, now he has a family thing out of town Sunday, and he might not be able to get Episode 3/Chapters 7-9 done by the end of the day Monday. But it'll get done!

Which leads us to the good news - it seems to us that waiting a whole week between episodes is a tad long, so we're going to step up production. Chapters 7-9 may not be ready by the end of the Memorial Day weekend, but Chapters 10-12 very likely will be ready before Monday, June 5, and Chapters 13-15 will definitely be out before Monday, June 12, etc. Our nine-week adventure is going to be quicker than the original plan, and we hope that meets with your approval!

Even by podcast standards, The Imaginary Bomb is not intended to be a slick, perfect production. It's a homemade project and, as such, I leave my share of stutters and clicks in there, although I'm trying to make them fewer and farther between. When episode 2 is posted later today, for example, you'll notice I don't own a filter that screens out popping P's. I'll try to be more careful starting with episode 3.

Part of the reason why the show sounds the way it does is that I don't own a fancy Garage Band system or even a computer that's less than five years old. And I use the type of equipment that I used for 22 years before I left the radio business 10 years ago: Analog stuff!

The main workhorses are a Pioneer RT-707 reel-to-reel tape deck that I bought new in 1977; a Radio Shack SSM-60 stereo sound mixer; and, for the voice processing, a Marantz PMD 740 mixing board and Yamaha EMP100 multi-effect processor that I got off eBay a couple of years ago. Now, folks who know what all those numbers mean know they're pretty cool toys, but this being my first podcast I'm just taking baby steps with this stuff so far.

Once it's all recorded, it's a simple matter to dub the whole shebang onto a CD and convert it to .mp3 on the Dell. In fact, there's probably a simpler way to do all of this, but I'm comfortable doing it this way, so what the hey.

-- Warren Bluhm

The plot revolves around this thing. When I wrote the novel, it looked like a floppy, 5-inch-square piece of plastic. No doubt when they make the movie the technology will have evolved to something else. And when the events of the novel come true, it'll be a whole 'nother thing. But this is approximately what it looks like today.

... while you're busy making other plans.

Oh, the cute little teasers we had planned for this week.

* We were going to post a picture of a flash drive with a label marked "ig 5.0.1" and let you try to figure out what the heck that is.

* We were going to write little introductory essays explaining who B.W. Richardson and Warren Bluhm are.

* We were going to construct a third "trailer" to get you really psyched for Monday's debut episode of the podcast.

* In short, we were going to have daily updates designed to get you thinking and talking to your friends about this new podcast novel that everybody in their right mind oughtta be downloading.

Then the next thing we knew, it was Friday night. Where'd all that time go!?!?!?!

Keep checking back, though, just in case - especially Monday. If nothing else, we will definitely drop Chapters 1-3 of the iBomb into your hands on schedule. That's a Lord-willing-and-the-crick-don't-rise promise!

Brian Richardson claims he was conceived to the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds, which means he was born no earlier than 1967, but every so often he comes out with a comment about the late 1960s and early '70s that could only be made by someone who was there, so I think he just likes the image that the first thing he heard as a zygote was the strains of "I Just Wasn't Made For These Times."

As a writer he's a little more brash than I am, but not excessively so, and we seem to see the universe through similar eyes, so it probably is natural that we'd collaborate on a project like this. As an incurable editor, I've suggested a tweak or two in the dialogue and some of the themes, but this is primarily the novel that Samantha heard on B.W.'s couch lo, these 18 years ago. It's hard to believe this nifty little story has been sitting in a box in B.W.'s basement all this time, but then again, I'm a born procrastinator, too, so I can imagine how it may have happened.

It's been nine years since last I played with recording equipment and reading out loud, so please forgive any awkward pauses or inexact edits. This is strictly a homemade production but hopefully won't sound too much like one.

The theme music is a recording I made back in 1982 of an instrumental I named "Shadazar" after Robert E. Howard's immortal city of decadence. I am a frustrated rock star who has all the tools needed for stardom except a voice, musical ability and a desire to sing in front of a crowd, but at least that hasn't stopped me from laying my little ditties down on tape, and now on CD. Someday maybe I'll put them out there for download and see if I can't make a few pennies. The opening and closing strains of The Imaginary Bomb podcast will be w.p. bluhm the musician's international debut.

As a frustrated writer myself - you should see the novels and short stories I hide under my own bushel baskets - I'm proud to help B.W. get his effort out to an audience. Maybe if this is a success, we'll follow up with some of my own work. But one step at a time. First let's get this spaceship fired up and ready to be hijacked by government agents who are transporting - oops, let's not get ahead of ourselves.

TENETS OF IMAGINARY PHYSICS:

1. The power of the imagination is unlimited.

2. Matter still can't be created or destroyed.

3. What's done is done.

It's funny how the creative process works. Those dozen words formed themselves into a sentence, a surge of adrenaline raced through my veins, and a few weeks later I had a 24,000-page novel - well, maybe that's a novella - or maybe even a long short story - called The Imaginary Bomb.

I'm a terrible procrastinator. Once I had the idea, I needed a way to keep the juices flowing, so that I wouldn't set the thing down for 18 years and never come back to it.

So I made a pact to myself that every time I got together with my girlfriend, let's call her Samantha, I would have another chapter finished and would read it to her. Sam started looking forward to snuggling on the couch with the next stage in the adventures of Bob Whelan, Pete Wong and the mighty Baxter Hetznecker. She was a kid at heart and really enjoyed having a bedtime story, as it were - that's one of the things I loved about her (and the fact that I didn't tell her the many things I loved about her is among the reasons why she's a figment of my past - but in memory of those times, I frequently tell Sweetie what I love about her, so I guess I've learned that lesson - but I digress).

I sent the finished product out to two or three publishers, and each time it came back with a "thanks anyway" note. I meant to send it out again, but instead I set the thing down for 18 years and never came back to it.

Enter Warren Bluhm. We got to talking to each other late in 2005; we're both free-radical libertarian near-anarchists who like to write essays about liberty and freedom and were born in New Jersey, so it was perhaps inevitable that we'd get to know each other. Sometimes we think so much alike we may as well be the same person. Like me, he is an ex-radio guy, but in his case he still likes the sound of his own voice. Me, I'd rather hide away in my hermitage and write. He's been itching to get into podcasting but couldn't settle on an idea for one, and I've been itching to haul The Imaginary Bomb back out and get it to the world. I also remember how entertained Sam seemed to be as she heard the story told out loud. The various interests seemed to fit together like peas in a podcast.

We conceived this idea. I would revise the novel to clean up the clunky spots, and we'd put out a podcast with Warren reading the story. Maybe we'll take donations to fund the self-publication of the book, or maybe some publisher who's into podcast novels will say, "Whoa baby! This is the project my company has been waiting for!" or even better, some movie producer will buy up the rights and I can retire and give up this life of crime (a little Serenity reference there for you).

So I've been revising away, and Warren's been clearing his throat and reading Podcasting for Dummies, and we're just about ready to launch - aiming for around May 15. The 27 chapters of The Imaginary Bomb are kind of short, so we're thinking we'll split the story into nine three-chapter sections, but we won't know for sure until we see how long it takes him to read a chapter. We're thinking 20-minute segments, so however many chapters (up to three) he can spit out in about 20 minutes, that's what we'll do.

We're at least a couple of weeks away from having our ducks in a row. So why are we telling you this now? That's easy - if we don't, we'll just end up setting the idea aside for 18 years, and then what?!?

B.W. Richardson

Cross-posted to Montag and the Green Bay Free Radical