Sunday afternoon I created Effin Tunes 9: Toad Seefus. My latest compilation disc's subtitle refers to our beloved toad who used to greet us at our front door and lick his chops when we'd catch a moth for him. About three weeks ago we videotaped a battle between Toad Seefus and some creature we caught for him. The beast looked like he was part dragonfly, part hornet, and he was about the same size as our toad. Nevertheless, we thought Toad Seefus (aka Toad Diddley and Jack Toad) could handle the challenge, and fifteen minutes of gut-wrenching action later, Toad Seefeus had ingested the entire creature. We have not seen our beloved toad since that night, however, and fear he may not have survived the battle. If you're reading this, Toad Seefus, you can come back home. Anthony, Mason, and Dave will feed you whatever your little snap-action tongue desires.

My compilation discs might as well be called complementing discs for how well they complement where I am in my life, and Effin Tunes 9 is no exception. In August, Effin Tunes 7 reflected my sadness to have finally lost Haley after months of attempted salvation (hence the intro of Bill Withers's "Ain't no Sunshine (when she's gone)") but pointed to an optimism that came with returning to Gainesville for school (hence the finale of Sarah McLaughlin's cover of "Blackbird," which includes the line, "take these broken wings and learn to fly"). One month later Effin Tunes 8 consisted of hard-edged rock and fast-paced tunes to signify the enjoyable chaos that comes with that first month back at college. The disc is more alternative radio-friendly, which means lots of fun but perhaps a slight lacking in substance.

Effin Tunes 9 is packed with substance when compared to more recent complementing discs. Once again situated inside the acedemic barriers of UF, I'm in a more intellectual state. I'm striving to put my career prospects in order, discover what I want to do in life, discover what I want to be in life, and with dedicating time to myself I'm putting things in a better perspective. Effin Tunes 9 does not have a clearly visible motive, as neither do I quite yet, but it, like me, is filled with potential by holding deep thoughts about all sorts of aspects on life, from how exciting it can feel to realize you truly are alive (Radiohead's "Airbag") to accepting that we sometimes crave the sinful (Rufus Wainwright's "Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk").

Will I play these cd's years down the road and be able to recall the feelings I was going through? Will my fiancee listen to my past and feel she knows me better than ever? Will my children rummage through the attic to find an old, dusty compact disc player and listen to my "oldies"? I started these discs to have music while I drove. Now, the good ones have the same purpose a good blooger has: to reillustrate some highlights from my existence.