MICHAEL SWAN: THIS JUST IN >>>

Live Nation Press Release:

Apparently Squire has some sort of blood clot. That's not good.

MICHAEL SWAN: COSTCO SAYS IT WILL BE GOOD NOW >>>

Federal prosecutors told Costco Wholesale Corporation bigwigs today that they can walk their massive air-conditioned aisles and ogle their giant slabs of beef and their economy packs of adult diapers and their enormous jars of peanut butter (crunchy style) and their two-gallon bottles of gin, and their large drums of hand lotion and their 12-foot plasma TVs and their 60-packs of frozen cream puffs in a state of zen as the Fed’s two-year investigation of backdated stock options wrong-doings at Costco is done â€" without charges being filed.

LINK: Read a press release here

UPDATE: Uh oh. Look what just arrived at the Weekly Volcano World Headquarters:

MATT DRISCOLL: OR WHEN ROB MCNAIR-HUFF CALLS, YOU ANSWER >>>

For the first time in what seems like ages, I got the call today. No, I didn’t get the call from Pappi Swarner letting me know Weekly Volcano World Headquarters was running desperately low on scotch, or a call from an upset band letting me know I’m full of shit (though calls like that do happen all the time); no, I got a call from Rob McNair-Huff with the City of Tacoma, letting me know city manager Eric Anderson would be holding a press conference this afternoon.

Hot shit, I thought. It’s been a while since I sat in a room with the Tacoma Weekly’s John Larson and Jason Hagey from the Trib â€" pretending like I'm a professional. This will be good.

And it was… if you’re into discussing how nobody has any money and everybody is scared of what the future holds.

With that, here’s what happened.

The economy as it relates to Tacoma transportation

By now you’ve probably heard that Chris Gregoire’s proposed budget screws Tacoma and Pierce County when it comes to funding promised transportation projects. Of course, many things got “screwed” in that proposed budget, mainly because there’s no fucking money. Tough choices were made, and we lost (at least round one). You’d think in Tacoma we’d be accustomed to such things.

Maybe that’s it. Maybe we’re too accustomed. Plenty of local decision makers are fuming.

Gregoire’s proposed budget “puts off” projects like extending State Route 167 and creating high occupancy vehicle lanes on Interstate 5 - which, for all intents and purposes (at least in the foreseeable future) means down right axing them. If nothing changes, maybe we’ll see some of those projects in ten years. Maybe.

The good news might be that, at least outwardly, Tacoma officials seem to believe there’s some chance of persuading the governor and the state legislature to reconsider. Anderson and a team of at least five city council members will travel to Olympia tomorrow (presumably not all riding in Baarsma’s Prius) to meet with, among others, Rep. Dennis Flannigan and representatives for the governor. Their hope is to get the delayed projects “restored.”

“I think everyone appreciates the difficulty of the problem,” said Anderson of the decisions the governor and legislature are forced to make about funding. “It’s important for the council to be talking, and presenting Tacoma’s situation.”

Anderson also said he expects to “just kind of watch,” tomorrow’s talking, negotiating, begging, pleading and screaming.

“It’s an uphill climb,” Anderson said of the chances that leaders from Tacoma will be able to convince the governor to fund the transportation projects she put on hold, noting much depends on The Stimulus. “I don’t know if you can tell what’s going to happen.

Quick quotes

On whether The Stimulus will help the inevitable cuts in social services Tacoma will experience â€" both on a state and county level:

“You can pump up the stimulus bill, and I support it. (But) Long term you need stability.”

On whether Tacoma is at the whim of the federal government at an economic time like this:

“We are at the whim of the economy.”

Anderson went on to say later in the briefing that sales tax revenue is down 9 or 10 percent from the city’s projections, and that Tacoma’s plan is to “assume the worst” at this point when it comes to projecting revenue. He did note that the excise tax was “up a little.”

On the cutbacks Tacoma is making:

“We’re going to end up saving money. (We are) finding things we don’t need to spend money on either way.”

OWEN TAYLOR: ALL HAIL BACCHUS >>>

Waking up on the smoldering remains of a partial couch fire lit by an errant fart and a curious lighter, I am a blank slate of adjectives, given the holy scroll of fire, in which there burns only one word. Epic. Let’s count it down, eh?

Saturday was a house party in the Central District swathed in fog, oozing debauchery in all forms so frenzied and various that we can’t run 98 percent of it in print for fear of legal culpability. Let’s just say there was S&D&R&R all over the place, like Snoqualamie Falls fighting its way out of three-story apartment building.

Sunday saw the day fielding calls of praise and confusion, nursing hangovers with IHOP and Amante-delivered sandwiches, and countless movies. It begins snowing. In my lap is a nameless calico kitten with a head cold hell-bent on shredding my leg like a scratchpost in its semi-blinded condition. Outside a screech of tires led into the back of the No. 2 bus, and now the diesel engine of the King County Transit response truck idles softly through the windows where I sit, sans lighter or coffee, trying to surmise how I will survive this coming weekend when Bacchus, Mendozza, and War With Saturn fly into Olympia from their triple throne of destruction to imbue Friday the 13th with a putrid sound wrought from molten lava and thrust forth into this world like the sludgy little bastard it is.

After this last weekend, waiting around for the loudest show on Earth before the horror called Valentine’s Day and my 30th birthday, I am quickly becoming that twinkle in Britney’s eyes right before she grabbed the clippers. This is the bliss of the rampant non-conformist. We are getting that close to understanding, kiddos. This is the time when we can’t back out, but must press on, into the cold and frigid night that awaits us, for soon the gods of thunder will bring us lightning back to the prairie and burn our souls clean once again. All hail Bacchus.

[Eastside Club, Bacchus with Mendozza, War with Saturn, Friday, Feb. 13, 9 p.m., $5, 410 Fourth Ave. E., Olympia, 360.357.9985]

BOBBLE TIKI: RAGE AGAINST THE VALENTINE >>>

Satan has taken over earth. And he’s arrived in the shape of a candy heart. Or a paper heart. Or a heart-shaped balloon clutched by a smiling miniature teddy bear.

Valentine’s Day is possibly the worst idea ever â€" for humanity, that is. If you’re in retail or marketing or flowers, it’s a godsend. (Huh. That’s funny: a god-sent Satan.) Bobble Tiki has said it before and he'll say it again: It’s all a finely orchestrated plot to part you with your money, and your self-respect.

Bobble Tiki didn’t always feel this way. When he was a younger tiki, Valentine’s meant building homemade cards out of red construction paper and doilies. It was time Bobble Tiki looked forward to spending with his siblings and his mom. The muse danced happily around that dinner table; helping each of us tikis design a card that could be efficiently re-created 30 times, one for each class member.

It’s been a few years since those days; luckily Bobble Tiki has spent most of them in a committed relationship. And we don’t celebrate Valentine’s.

Why not? Well, why would we? To show each other our love? We do that every day â€" with text messages, Facebook wall moments and long talks about minute details of each others’ lives. To show each other extra-special love? Anyone involved in a relationship should know that if you only do that once a year, you’re not going to be in that relationship for long.

But of course, V-Day isn't all bad. Because everyone knows that right under the cheap veneer of Valentine's Day mega-marketing and hollow churchly romance is yet another delicious excuse to have more sex and indulge in fleshly pleasures and lick chocolate syrup off your lover's tailbone. Hopefully.

These days, it seems like nobody wants to be single. And truly, after a while the one-night stands, blind dates and online encounters get a little old. For singles looking to change their status, consider the Flirt Party tonight in The Hub's Events Space and Gallery.

The ogling kicks off at 9 p.m. with gag gifts, door prizes, spin the bottle and more surrounded by house music by the Ocean Grooves team: DJ dAb, Mr. Clean, DJ Cypers. There isn't a cover. Premium wells and microbrews are only $3.

As always, Bobble Tiki doesn’t care what you tonight because he doesn’t even know you.  And unless you enjoy these Valentine confections â€" Vicks Crème Delight, Disgruntled Hershey’s Employee Hepatitis Crème, Lepermint, Sour Cream and Bunion, Caramelanoma, Crunchy Left Nut Cluster, and Ashtray Patties â€" then Bobble Tiki is certain he doesn’t want to meet you.  Besides, it’s time to blow this joint and prepare for the love process as Bobble Tiki so wants to believe in a day of love, and so wants to rage against the love machine, and so wants to eat an entire box of love chocolates, and so wants to gag himself with a heart-shaped plastic straw and subsequently spew said chocolates onto something meaningful or expensive.

[The Hub's Event Space and Gallery, Friday, Feb. 13, 9 p.m. to 2 a.m., no cover, 203 Tacoma Ave. S., Tacoma, 253.683.4606]

BOBBLE TIKI: BREAKFAST WITH BOBBLE TIKI >>>

Good morning, all. Running a bit late this morning, but, according to the Weekly Volcano Weather Guy, it looks like sunshine today. Veddy nice!

Plane crashes are no joke.

The economy as it relates to Tacoma transportation.

Remember the Gateway stores? Apparently, not everyone. Microsoft plans to open retail stores.

Here's a Morning Spew parenting tip: A hand grenade (armed or not) is not a great show-and-tell idea.

With the sad announcement that Muzak filed for bankruptcy … especially since the company managed to finally get beyond its “elevator music” reputation, enjoy this:

BOBBLE TIKI: TRUCKIN' >>>

Live Nation announced today that The Dead with guests the Allman Brothers Band and the Doobie Brothers will play the Gorge Amphitheatre on Saturday, May 16, at 3:30 p.m.

Who are The Dead? The Grateful Dead, well at least four of them â€"  Bob Weir, Phil Lesh, Bill Kreutzmann and Mickey Hart â€" plus keyboardist Jeff Chimenti and Allman Brothers Band/Gov’t Mule guitarist Warren Haynes, both of whom played with the band at the “Change Rocks” concert.

Tickets are $5 and $95 at LiveNation.com and Ticketmaster outlets. They go on sale Friday, Feb. 20 at 10 a.m.

STEPH DEROSA: SLOW BURN >>>

Pita Pit
Buffalo Chicken Pita
Price: $6.15
Burn Factor: One out of four Molotov cocktails
 Since Pacific Lutheran University’s restaurants thrive on their college dining crowd, I figured I’d step into one of the cheaper lunchtime options, Pita Pit. If there was one word my friends and I could use to describe our typical Pita Pit order, The Dagwood, it’d be “grubbin’!”  Now if only I could get this pita/sandwich institution to serve up something that made my salivary glands scream “spicy!” I’d be one happy jalapeño lover.

I’m quickly learning that when most dining establishments dabble in “spicy,” they mean, “buffalo sauce.”  This buffalo sauce business must be obviously common because as most people know, “quickly learning” is not necessarily my forte.

Pita Pit’s brand new Buffalo Chicken Pita screamed my name from the menu chalkboard. Unfortunately, it did not make my mouth scream at all. Of course you could build this thing any way you want, so I added the jalapenos and peppers just like any good salsa-lita would do, and that right there is where the heat came from on my Buffalo Chicken Pita.  Don’t get me wrong, the flavor was all well and good as usual, but for a lady who likes the heat in her food, this pita fell short.

[Pita Pit, 212 Garfield St.,
 Parkland/Tacoma, 
253.539.2797]

LINK: South Sound Restaurant Guide

JOE MALIK: LOW ON SURVIVAL TICKETS? >>>

So I’ve stared a hole in my living room wall, and spent hours and hours replaying my shit-canning over and over again in my head. It’s like watching a 4- to 6-second YouTube pseudo-snuff film 300 times in a row. It isn’t quite post traumatic stress disorder yet, but if I start having dreams about it, I can get a Xanax prescription.

Since I can’t really afford Xanax right now, I decided to quell my terror by reaching out to people who love me; or who feel sorry enough for me to pretend like they love me until I stop freaking out.

To my surprise, talking to people and receiving a promise or two of assistance, support or sympathy has taken a bigger bite out of my terror than I would have ever expected. I think I know why.

See, as civilization and commerce has evolved, people have drifted further and further away from one another in very specific ways. A once-pervasive connection based on mutual aid and communal living â€" i.e. tribal interdependence â€" has faded.

Village and tribal culture had conditioned people to depend on one another for survival. The introduction and evolution of a cash-based economy marked the beginning of a slow death for that deep pack-bond. Modern men and women don’t look to their community for survival security anymore. Instead, we depend on a steady supply of survival tickets â€" i.e. money.

During the last hulking economic disaster â€"the Great Depression â€" engineer and economist C.H. Douglas presented a chart to a Canadian royal commission that was exploring money and credit regulation in light of Canada’s version of the Great Depression. The chart tracked the rise and fall of interest rates from 1812 to 1932. On the same timeline, Douglas also tracked the rise and fall of suicide rates.

The trend lines were virtually identical.

We can assume this non-coincidence is connected to the generalized anxiety and panic that blossoms when banks start crumbling, people start losing their jobs every day by the thousands, and everyone starts fearing for their lives because their supply of survival tickets has been withdrawn.

A recent article in Time suggests that suicide rates are already on the rise in places hit hardest by the housing disaster. Calls to a suicide prevention call center in Los Angeles spiked 65 percent during the second half of 2008. Experts are quoted as being concerned that the trend will spread to encompass the nation. Pretty bleak, huh?

There has to be a better way, and it has to involve placing money, and its role, into proper perspective, while making more room for plain-old good will and community. Government programs and non-governmental charities, already reeling from current demand, can’t stand in for the tribe. They can help, but clearly require communities and neighbors to step up and patch huge holes in the safety net.

The fact is that we’re already pretty good at it in Tacoma. If you’re as unemployed and bored as I am, what better way to spend your extra time than helping your broke-ass neighbor? Hell, help someone you don’t know. Volunteer. Donate the time you would have spent staring at the wall. It’s likely to curb your creeping depression, and it might remind you of a kind of connection that’s easy to forget when your wallet is fat.

You can always forget it again if you get a job.

KUPS STAFF: OFFERS IT'S MUSICAL CRITIQUE >>>

It's Friday again, which means it's time for another CD review from the KUPS staff.

This week, Thea Trindle reviews Dent May, and his new record, The Good Feeling Music of Dent May & His Magnificent Ukulele.

You can check out that review by clicking here.