Robert Christgau Word of the Day

trans·mog·ri·fy tr.v. To change into a different shape or form, especially one that is fantastic or bizarre. (dictionary.reference.com)

Led ZeppelinHouses of the Holy [Atlantic, 1973]

I could do without "No Quarter," a death march for a select troop of messenger-warriors, perhaps the band's road crew, that you can tell is serious because of the snow (when they're working up to big statements it only rains) and scary sound effects. But side two begins with two amazing, well, dance tracks--the transmogrified shuffle is actually called "Dancing Days," while "D'Yer Mak'er" is a reggae, or "reggae"--that go nicely with the James Brown tribute/parody/ripoff at the close of side one. Which is solid led, lurching in sprung rhythm through four tracks that might have been on II, III, or IV, or might not have been, as the case may be. A- (www.robertchristgau.com)

My brother visited this weekend. On Friday evening in Lubbock we ate steak at Cagle's, a former cattle ranch converted into a restaurant; bought some New Belgium ale on the Strip; and sampled the wares at the Hub City Brewery while a guitar-harmonic duo played annoying blues tunes.

We spent Saturday in the Amarillo area. We drove north via a route deemed "scenic" by the road atlas, but which, except for a couple of brief dips into and out of the canyon, looked out on the same flat grassland one sees on I-27. In Canyon we browsed through the Panhandle-Plains historical museum. I was glad to see that the painting by former West Texas A&M instructor Georgia O'Keefe was back after having been on loan. My brother, more interested in mechanics than art, liked the display of vintage cars and motorcycles.

We drove west to Palo Duro Canyon State Park but cut short our hike because of the intense heat (hear that, Pablo?), which was just as well because it gave us plenty of time to check out three weird and tacky Amarillo landmarks. The giant legs are an oddity standing just south of town and easily spotted from the interstate. There is a historical marker claiming these stone gams inspired Shelley's "Ozymandias," but that is obviously baloney. I can more easily believe the sculpture is the deformed brainchild of local eccentric helium millionaire Stanley Marsh, who is the culprit behind the next attraction on our list, Cadillac Ranch. Finally, we got back on I-40 and headed east for some kitschy fun at The Big Texan Steak Ranch. A husky young fellow was up on the platform attempting the 72-ounce steak dinner challenge, but as the entire room chanted down the final seconds in time with the digital clock behind him, he shook his head in defeat.

Sunday I took my brother to lunch at Delhi Palace in Lubbock. He liked it, which was a relief because he's had Indian food all over the country and has high standards. The owner, though, commented sadly that business was especially slow over the summer, with most of the Tech students out of town. We took a brief look at the Ranching Heritage Center before taking him back to the airport.

On the way back home, driving up I-27 N, I got my first look at a thunderstorm in toto. It was a dark monster with a ghastly green maw in the center which seemed to be sucking air up into the stratosphere. I gunned the engine and got indoors just as it hit town with, I'm guessing, 50 mph gusts and heavy rain. Makes me think twice about storm chasing!

Oh, and we went CD shopping, of course. I picked up the aforementioned Houses of the Holy, Moody Blues Days of Future Passed, Lou Reed's Transformer (with its cool front cover of Reed quaFrankenstein's Monster and disgusting back cover which need not be described here), and the double-CD anthology of Jefferson Airplane songs, 2400 Fulton Street.