God Hates Oklahoma

The holiest, most righteous church on Earth, everyone's favorite, the Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka, Kansas, is now picketing the funerals of children who happen to die in Oklahoma.

Why Oklahoma? Because at some point in the last few weeks they were in Oklahoma and someone slashed their tires. Because of this person (or persons), they've come to a new conclusion, reflected on their signs, according to this article, that "God Hates Oklahoma."

That's hilarious. God hates Oklahoma? I've been there a couple times, and I'm not that crazy about it either. No, seriously, it wasn't bad. I had a nice time there.

Oklahoma gave us Carrie Underwood and Merle Haggard's song about Muskogee. It can't be all bad.

The article is apparently true. It only sounds like something hilarious. God hates Oklahoma because these guys got their tires slashed. I wonder what He'll do if something worse happens. We might all be in for an asteroid attack. LOL.

Happy Veterans Day

Happy Veterans Day! I myself never had the honor to serve -- with my game toe -- but I had several uncles in the various wars and my Grandpa was in World War ought I. Some of the uncles were in World War ought II. They were part of the Greatest Generation, but I don't think they knew it till Tom Brokaw told them, and they were dead before that.

Anyway, I have the freedoms I have today ... to post this blog with fear of reprisals from the Communists and Nazis ... because of my family members.

A couple of my uncles were pilots in Vietnam, and one of them was involved in that whole refueling in the air routine, with the big pipe going from one plane to another. There were always real spiffy photos of the uncles on the shelves at Grandma's.

As for Grandpa, I don't remember him saying word one about his service in World War ought I. So I have no idea what he did, except I guess he was overseas. There's a picture of him standing there in his uniform with a fake tent backdrop behind him. I have a copy of the picture. I keep thinking, good thing he didn't take lead in the groin or I wouldn't be here today.

Now that I think of it, why would they send my Grandpa overseas to war? Anything might've happened to him and I wouldn't be here today. If ever I heard of a reason to stop sending men to war, that's it!

Apologizing To The Head Stomper

I heard a great story, which turns out to be true, that the guy who stomped the head of the MoveOn activist expects an apology.

They showed the brave man in an interview from the neck down. And that's what he said he wants. An apology, by cracky.

Dear Whoever,

I'm so sorry my head ended up under your foot. I'm so sorry that when you started stomping, apparently fully aware of my head's presence, that my foot was there to make contact with your foot. From now on, I'll try my hardest to avoid being pushed and pulled to the sidewalk by political goons, so that my head won't be in the way of those consciously trying to stomp me to mush.

Sincerely yours,
Your Guilty Victim

A Little Off The Top

I've flown under the radar so long, I should be a forest barber. I've been clipping the top of the trees.

Hitler Is Hitler

Hitler is Hitler.

Afraid Of Airspace

The firemen were out with their boot today, I assume raising funds for the annual telethon. I don't especially like seeing this kind of thing, firemen blockading the door of the store, but that's how they get the big bucks.

So of course they always have one boot. That's quite a custom.

My excuse for not giving, if they asked, would be, "I'm afraid of reaching my hand in a boot." I imagine they would reply that I don't have to put my hand in but can just drop the money in. To which I would have to say, "I'm even afraid of the airspace above it."

I can't imagine they'd be silenced at this point, because they might say I could simply put the money in their hand. To which I would be forced to respond that I'm also afraid of the airspace above their hand.

The fact is, I don't give because I'm deathly afraid of both boots and airspace.

Time Is Inane

Time passes so quickly. It's inane.

I'm sick of looking up and realizing another nine or ten days have passed.

Without Love

Without love ... I am nothing.

Without love ... I have nothing to contribute.

Without love ... Take a brickbat to your head. Because that's what it's come to.

Without love ... Oozing out of every pore, it must be something else.

Let The Healing Begin -- Don't Vote Republican

Just because you can vote Republican doesn't mean you have to.

The Ady Gil Incident

I just watched a few episodes of "Whale Wars" today for the first time. I've seen it advertised and I've seen random snippets while passing through the TV room in the past. But that's it.

Today I sat down and was watching some of it and it was fairly interesting. I had no idea there was a real antagonist in the Japanese, with their "RESEARCH" boats, and all that.

I was surprised to see this jazzed up boat that looked like the Batmobile on water, the Ady Gil. I called my wife in to see it, but of course she watches all the shows on Animal Planet so she'd already seen it many times. I was just getting into it and its capabilities when it was completely destroyed, just like that. So I discovered it for the first time and saw it for the last time within the space of about two hours.

They made a big deal out of it, whether the Japanese boat deliberately rammed it or whether the Ady Gil was simply too close, which looked more likely to me. It seemed very ridiculous, that the crew of the Ady Gil was lounging around on the outside of their boat when this big enemy boat was coming right up next to it. I know they were low on fuel, but, please, you can't move the thing back 20 or 30 feet?

The situation just before that was ridiculous too. The Ady Gil was out, keeping track of the Japanese boat. Then when they were about out of fuel, the guys in the Whale Wars boats were going to leave them behind for three entire days (!), just to drift around. That's how pressed for time they were! I'm thinking, Three days?!

But they barely bobbed around for 10 minutes (on the show) before they were totally destroyed. Which meant the Whale Wars boat had to come back for them anyway, which could've been avoided all together if they'd just taken them away the first time. So I wasn't too impressed.

I was complaining to my wife that nothing much seemed to be happening in regards to protecting whales. It was all ship malfunctions, boats being destroyed, running out of fuel, a guy ruining a motor in the rocks, people complaining, etc., the helicopter being grounded, the oil being low, one thing after another, the Ady Gil captain trying to arrest the Japanese captain, then turning back after he was next to their ship, etc. My wife tends to stick up for all this stuff rather than being critical, which she did in this case too.

Definite Times In Songs

I'm listening to Lady Antebellum's song "Need You Now." It has a definite time in it, "a quarter after 1," when he or she (or he and she) needs you now. So definite!

There's others. Like the old song by Spin Doctors ... what time is it? 4:30.

There's one, I think it's by The Fray, there's 8 seconds in overtime. So that's a moment (a second) frozen in amber.

How about going way back, 25 or 6 to 4. Chicago didn't have a digital clock.

The Chew Factor

I had a bag of sunflower seeds out of the shells. When you have some of these, the best way is to eat them by the handful. Which I did.

But today, with the bagful gone, I happened to find a single kernel still on my desk. It's not the floor, it's a desk, so I ate it. And it was enjoyable.

The chew factor of one isolated seed is my topic. It's not mixed in with the whole multitude of seeds, it's one isolated seed. Still, it was very enjoyable, and maybe more so, since it was one seed with its own individual taste and presentation.

The next time I get a bagful I might eat them one at a time. I also might not since that would take forever.

Shakes And Custards

I'm probably going to become a very fat person. I will if I don't watch it.

In the last couple of days I've had a big shake from a place, Steak 'n Shake, which was very good. Too good, in fact, because they can't be good for you. Nothing that good can be good for you. Alas, one of the facts of life.

I also had a custard malt from another place, which was also very good. I've never had any kind of custard in my life, that I know of. I hate the sound of the word. It reminds me too much of General Custer and bastards. You're calling Custer a bastard and that I don't like.

I met a guy named Custer somewhere in the last four months. And he said to me, "Like the general." Glomming on to the general? Bastard.

I've got to really watch it on the shakes and bastards ... because I don't want my fat to get out of hand.

Hillshire ... Farms

When I say Hillshire you say Farms:
Hillshire! Farms!
Hillshire! Farms!
Go meat!

Rain

The poor man's sprinkler system.

Cheap Albums

I got a few albums (MP3s) on Amazon today, like in the 1 cent, 30 cent, 54 cent range.

That's pretty wild. I haven't bought anything for a while there. But they had some cool jazz stuff today, which I happened to notice.

I'm listening to a guy named Wayne Wallace. I never heard of him. But I have now. It's jazzy with a Latin thing going on.

It's good to pay for your music. But if they don't want much for it, that's good too.

I'd Hate To Be McChrystal

I get very nervous if I have a big challenge the next day.

I don't get "called on the carpet" very often, but there are occasionally challenges that have to be faced, unpleasant meetings, etc.

When that happens, I'm very queasy, thinking through the various issues, what will become of me if, God forbid, worse comes to worse. It makes for a bad night the night before.

Now, we have General McChrystal, who stepped in it big time. He's in the news. Everyone's talking about him. He has to go to some big meeting with the Afghanistan war team at the White House. Everyone's going to notice him there, since he should still be in Afghanistan doing his normal duty. Then he has a one on one meeting with the President, who's of course could to fillet him alive. That would be nerve-wracking for me.

What can you say? When every eye is on you, and you're being called on the carpet for making a major boo boo. I would say, "Why didn't you have the intelligence to keep your big yap shut? You didn't know Rolling Stone was a major magazine with a fairly wide readership? You idiot!"

He definitely deserves to be fired. I sincerely believe in the civilian leadership of the military. And if the military leaders are guilty of insubordination, or anyone in the military, they need to be dealt with swiftly and with rigor. We cannot have that kind of behavior.

And I would feel the same way no matter who was Commander in Chief. When you are Commander in Chief, that's not just a ceremonial title, it's the fact of the matter. If you disrespect the Commander in Chief, whether you're a general or a private, you deserve what you get.

I'd hate to be McChrystal. Such a moron.

More Crazy, Crazy Trees

10 or 11 days ago I wrote about trees.

I know more about trees now than I did then, since I've been dealing with them that much longer.

My baseline conclusion is that trees ultimately have no worries, because they're going to plant themselves and grow until the end of time.

The little trees all over my yard are like a plague that can't be contained. I cut them down and they sprout back up.

I'm checking out the occasional seedling that I pull up entirely, and it has a few false starts, like when it grew and I whacked it down. It just takes off again where it left off, sprouting again.

It's irritating me to no end, but I have a renewed appreciation of that Bible verse about "a root from the seed of Jesse" or however it goes, a shoot from the roots, or renewed growth coming out of a stump. Trees simply don't want to give up!

My Loving, Adopting Mood

I'm in a loving mood this morning, with great feelings for those around me, for their well being.

It's not like I'm super meditative this morning, because I have some anxiety "down here somewhere" (indistinct descriptor of things that can't be fully described). I did read a few things and try to parse them out, but that's not the source of my loving, adopting mood.

It could be that it's just in my genes and psychological upbringing. It definitely doesn't feel like a choice.

I'll take you under my very sincere, loving wing. You won't have to worry about the future.

Crazy, Crazy Little Trees

I will never worry about trees again!

They will grow to their heart's content without me worrying about them. This I know.

How I know it, I have hundreds of them growing in my yard. Everyday I'm out there pulling up little oak trees and maple trees. It's nuts. Acorns, to be exact. They're everywhere.

If they left this property alone for five years it would literally be a forest!

So, for me, no more worrying about trees, using too much paper, etc. There's no trouble whatsoever in growing trees. Just turn your back for a few days and you'll have a yard full of them.

Robin Hood

I got the Robin Hood movie starring Errol Flynn on BluRay today.

I just recently had a VHS tape of it. And I think maybe in my process of moving recently that I might've gotten rid of it. But maybe I didn't. I haven't seen it around. I just watched it toward the end of 2009 or the beginning of 2010.

It's always a movie I've loved since I first saw it on TV some years ago.

The VHS tape was good but had a lot of the negatives that went along with VHS tapes, not the greatest picture and other things like that. But on BluRay it's stunning, very nice.

It's a great one. I also watched one of the features on it, The Making of films. That will give me a greater appreciation of it the next time I see it!

The Last Three Stooges Volume

I think it's the last Three Stooges shorts volume, coming out, to be available tomorrow, June 1, 2010.

I have all the others, so naturally I want the last one. I like watching them.

Memorial Day Humor

I went shopping for Memorial Day flowers, so I could decorate the graves of loved ones.

Most of them were easy to shop for, a pink wreath for Grandma, a blue wreath for my baby brother. But then there was Uncle Hank, who needed something special.

For him I wanted to take part of this wreath, part of that wreath, in fact a little part out of many different wreathes.

He always had a sweet tooth, so I wanted to give him a serving of "Wreathes' Pieces."

Jello

The new Jello commercials are so cheerful. I really like them. They have a cute song and cute graphics.

Coincidentally, we had Jello with dinner tonight!

A Free Straw!

I went by a restaurant today, a fast food place, that had on their sign outside the fact that if you buy a large drink you get a free straw with it!

Wow, a free straw!

The imagination runs wild about how great their straws must be.

Sacred Journey, My Ass

I went into a sacred journey store yesterday. I was kind of enthusiastic about it. But then just looking at the stuff, I got a fairly empty feeling, not quite queasy but just empty.

One, no one there really seemed like they were on any kind of sacred journey, but maybe they were... who knows?

Two, even if they were they were just there to sell trinkets, rain sticks, and other garbage. Although I must say, I do like the sounds that rain sticks make. But in all the times I've been looking at them I still haven't bought one yet. I am tempted.

You see tie-dyed wall hangings and stuff, and I'm kind of in the mood for that, but none of it grabbed me. I was waiting around for the inner light and my mind to say "this is it," but it didn't happen.

I shouldn't judge, but I do. As far as I'm concerned, there wasn't anything sacred about it.

Dragon 10 Speech Recognition Software

I've been doing my blogs with this speech recognition software, with very mixed results.

There's something on virtually every line that is wrong and that I have to correct. It's frankly amazing how often it screws up. It's not really saving me much time, that's for sure. But I'm a very fast typist and also very accurate, so I probably need this less than the average person.

Having said that, it did the previous paragraph perfectly, without a mistake. So that ought to mean something. On the other hand, since I'm kind of pissed off at it I am pronouncing my words very carefully. (I actually said, "I'm" there... but they changed it for me, and the second time it used the word "aim.") On this paragraph, I had to correct or five things. That's very bad. I could've typed the paragraph three times in the amount of time it took me to say it once.

I'm really not in breast.

Err, what I actually said was, "I am really not in progress to." No! I said, "I'm really not impressed." Finally, the stupid thing got it right. Does that look like something that would save time to you?

That's an interesting statement... I'm really not in breast...Ha ha...

There Is Only One Big Mac

There is only one Big Mac.

This news is brought to you from a Big Mac box that originally held the Big Mac hamburger that I had today.

I don't ordinarily go to McDonald's, but certain things about my life have changed. So there I was, confronted with a choice, and this was my choice.

I used to eat Big Macs a lot. I remember eating them back in the 70s and even consciously thinking, "I wonder how many more Big Macs I'll eat in my life." Because back then I was eating a lot of them. But in recent years, like I said, not so many.

I like the box and the very direct slogan, "There is only one Big Mac."

Hall & Oates Remakes

The other day I was at a store, and of course a lot of them are playing music over the speakers. I was interested to hear a new version -- new to me -- of Hall & Oates' "Private Eyes," by some sweet woman singer. It was very lovely.

Then, amazingly, the next day I was in another store and heard another remake of a Hall & Oates song, also by some sweet woman singer, in this case, "I Can't Go For That." I always liked that song! This version was very sweet.

The big difference, other than being by a woman singer and being a little jazzier, was that they left out the "no can do" piece in the refrain. But that was okay, and they probably figured that anyone who knew the song, like me, would be mentally filling it in or even singing it anyway.

Now I am wondering if the two songs might have been recorded by the same woman and would be from the same CD, and if so... who she might be. What other great Hall & Oates remakes might she be responsible for?

this is written with Dragon 10

I feel very self-conscious right now because I'm dictating this blog post with a new program that I got that turns talking to text it's called Dragon 10. Since I'm not used to talking when I write something cursing is coming out a little more stilted.

Then add to that of the probable 80 very predictable situation where the program is not 100% accurate, probably mostly my fault, and I'm not always optimistic about the results.

Sally Sally perp burp him and Sally Perper per burp and hand me Sally Perper burp Perper burp Sally Prober were Sally Perper burp him and me went downtown to their rec center and that got into a big fisticuffs and started to R.@half until we all got downright drunk then the UH UH UH went to the library and feed on the post feed on the post repeat on the post I can't say I paid him the post a year and they did on the post they urinated on the post finally.

A couple of people saw us sitting there and were amazed at our addiction our addiction power in our diction.

They were amazed at our diction, our ability to speak in such a way that Dragon 10 recognized it.

Notice I am trying to say Decca should diction not addiction or anything about Decca.

I don't think that this will replace typing. LOL point! Point well taken he said point well taken, he said.

At this point in my life I'm looking out a window and I see a brick chimney standing tall except against the house of courses built right into the house because probably on the other side of it the people have a fireplace.

Him but this word go forth from henceforth even now and for ever -- world without end -- that we will bear any burden, specially those easy to bear, and so forth. I'm wind when the team got a big win will be lucky what they look well well I can't say what they would be Goldbergheaventhere is a Place on Earth called heaven and it's there that say it's true and if you don't believe it I'll tell you what to do is take a stand my friend and stand the pond lower rock and if you will not do it your pond scum you are pond scum.

There is no chalice like an old chalice, like a cold chalice to drink from.

The speaker gave a mighty peroration, with his oratory take lying the stars take lying the stars tickle Lane tickling the stars. What's a matter, don't you know the phrase to claim the stars, tickling the stars?

Funkified

I need a placeholder for today, some post to post so that I won't have an endless streak of no posting.

If I'm funkified, it's just a temporary situation, as I get used to my brand new life. My whole life switched around unexpectedly and miraculously in the last few months. I'm in a different place. I'm doing something entirely different. It's wild ... as wild can be.

No one saw it coming. I didn't see it coming. So like is ... funky.

I need to transition this into total and constant happiness. Why the heck not?

Questions Aquarium Newbies Ask

It's a sad scene, to see an aquarium newbie in a pet store. Of course we all started out somewhere, so we don't want to rub it in too much for these poor, unknowing souls.

Still, it's kind of funny (not laughing to their face), some of the things they ask:

Does the pet store sell water?
Is water part of the kit?
Do the fish need little air tanks?
What keeps them from drowning?
Can I add a room if they get too big?
Am I supposed to put their food on a plate?
Do fish use napkins?


We want to roll our eyes and say "O Brother!" But that wouldn't be nice. So we just answer their questions with a straight face, and they go home none the wiser that they've made several newbie boo boos.

So Tired I'm About To Fall

I've had a few days where I was so tired I was about to fall.

I'm starting to feel like that now, as the day wears on. But for the most part this was a good day, like the last couple.

But a few before that, wow, I was so tired I could've fallen over.

When I get tired like that, I feel that confusion that you feel before you fall asleep, and it makes me start wondering about consciousness and how you know that you're in waking consciousness. Because there's some very nasty counterfeit consciousness right at the seam between wakefulness and sleep. You could run over someone.

One day I drank a Coke to wake myself up. This is noteworthy because I quit drinking soda pop three years ago coming up in June. So that's how desperate I was, that I would drink a Coke when I had that huge streak.*

*As disclosed elsewhere on one of my blogs, I do have a little bit of red pop at Christmas, as part of a family tradition that itself has a very long streak, going back to the legendary time when Grandpa first started the family off with red pop at Christmas.

The Mighty dbkundalini Strikes Again!

Where will this unknown creature appear next? I've been out on the street, walking amongst you, all but unknown, except in my own mind.

I saw my wild tangle of hair in the street windows and thought about tamping it down. Then I thought again.

No one knows. They just see an anonymous guy with a wild tangle of hair.

May 1

May 1 looks like May I.

"Mother, may I?" was a game of some sort. I can't remember how it went.

My Posting Mojo

I need to get back my posting mojo. Since I moved last week, on Friday, my life has been upside down. Consequently I haven't been posting my blogs like I was when everything was stable.

But I'm getting more stable and back to my normal abnormal state, so I might be back to stay. I'm still a little flustered about the new responsibilities I have in my new job and the long hours, but I'm adapting.

Whenever I hit a point of no return, I know I have to adapt. It's evolve or die, you might say.

I've Been Awake Since 3 Something

It's been another one of those days, as the pressures and joys of moving are coming together.

Everything built to its highest crescendo today, as it was the day to move the final things (except for the really final things, like the mattress we're sleeping on tonight in an otherwise empty house) into the truck. It all went along as it needed to, with some hired help who did a tremendous job.

I woke up in the middle of the night. This has happened a time or two lately. And I couldn't get back to sleep. So I got up a little after 4, then did some things, then got to work with the moving stuff. So now that it's almost 12 hours later, I'm getting sleepy.

One of these days, very soon, I'll have things back to normal.

There's some joys to it as well, as I said. One is seeing everything come together as it needs to.

An Expandable Gravesite

I went by a graveyard today that is my least favorite kind of graveyard, the kind where the stones are lying on the ground, flat. I like the stand-up ones better, so you can see them from the road.

I would much rather have a stand-up one than a flat one, even those the flat ones are handier for the guy who mows the yard, so whom I would say, "What do we care what you want? You want a job, you'll mow around the stand-up ones!"

I was thinking of the kind that would be cool, an expandable tombstone. You buy maybe 40 plots. Then you put your tombstone right in the middle. It's about the normal height, but has some wires and rebar sitting out the top, left there for future expansion.

You put some money in an account, then trust your relatives to spend the interest on the expansion efforts. They build up, out, across, down, so your tombstone looks like a big piece of modern art by the time they're done, if they ever get done.

Gesturing About Aquariums

When gesturing, I believe it's best to keep things in some kind of proportion.

So when you're indicating a 10-gallon aquarium, your hands are out to about here. Then if you refer to a 20-gallon one, your hands need to go out farther. If you keep them where they were, that's still a 10-gallon tank, I'm sorry.

If it's a 50-gallon one, you can still manage it, probably, unless you're John McCain, but obviously it's a stretch. Work at it. If you're talking about a 50-gallon aquarium and you're only gesturing a 38-gallon one, that's no good. Because I don't think they come in 38-gallon models.

Advancing Along...

My move is making progress. I didn't do much with it today, but tomorrow I'll be back into it in earnest.

I will be moving this week somewhere else. So there!

It might affect my blogging schedule, as it already has.

Looking At President Obama's Tax Forms

Today is Tax Day. I got mine mailed yesterday. There weren't any big surprises. I did OK with it. It helps to have a simple estate, a dog house and two blankets. And my dog's always hogging them.

I was just looking at President Obama's tax forms online. His definitely look complicated enough that I would want a professional to help me with them. And I see he had a tax company do them. If my income, like his, ever goes over $5 million, I'll be sure to get someone.

Just looking at them, they seem fairly simple and straightforward, except for all the additional forms they had to fill out. The first pages and the SE schedule look about like mine have looked in recent years, just bigger numbers. I see one of his expenses was only $12, so I can relate to that.

A lot of the president's high income was from book sales. Memo to self: Write bestselling book this year.

The other thing that struck me about the president's tax forms was that everything was typed. That really makes them look good.

Larry King Files For 8th Divorce

Larry King has filed for divorce, which will be his 8th! I'd say eight is enough! What kind of moron would it take to want to be married to that old crumb? Especially with his crappy track record.

9:00 Should Be The Cut Off Time For Calls

I've had some things advertised in the paper, furniture, as I prepare for my move.

Last night I'd had a busy day and was tired, so I went to bed about 9:30. Then after 10 someone called me and woke me up, asking about the furniture. That's no good. I talked to her for a few minutes and then had trouble falling back to sleep. So I lay there until after 11, still not to sleep.

9:00 should be the cut off time for calls. I thought we had a kind of societal agreement about that.

I used to work at a place where we had to call a lot of people. We weren't selling anything. But 9:00 was thought of as the latest we would call someone. Since we were calling sometimes in different zones, it was sometimes overlooked that it would be 10:00 for some already. We got some complaints about it.

Tax Day Is Coming

I worked through the last details of my tax forms and they're ready to go. I need to wait for my checking account transfer to be registered at the bank.

Then off it all goes! To the man! I don't mind the man a bit. He's just there (Uncle Sam, let's call him) to see to it that we don't suffer deficit spending at the highest echelons.

I actually filled in the numbers and most of the forms a week and a half or so ago. I just saved the last little bits, like signing them and doing all the other things of getting them prepared. Making sure the money was there, etc.

Anyway, it's coming, so you better get ready, or you'll have to spend the year in prison.

Jamaica Inn

I watched the Alfred Hitchcock film "Jamaica Inn." I see it gets mostly poor reviews all around.

I didn't think it was so terrible. I had a hard time understanding the dialogue much of the time, with the heavier accent, especially with Charles Laughton's character. But that's about it.

I couldn't figure out why Maureen O'Hara's character went back to Jamaica Inn when she had escaped with the guy she saved. That didn't make sense to me.

It started off very exciting, with the ship being tossed in the sea, then the cutthroats doing their thing on the survivors. That's why they call them cutthroats.

As for Charles Laughton, his character was fairly disgusting. Plus I don't think I've ever seen anyone whose eyebrows were so far up his head, except Cap'n Crunch comes to mind. That was very distracting.

It was good to finally see all the soldiers clean up the mess and get it straightened out.

It was anticlimactic when Pengallon jumped off the top of the boat. Who really cared at that point? I would've shot him through the head and spared him the trouble. Why they didn't just shoot him, I don't know.

Among the outlaws, I liked Harry the best, in a scruffy top hat, looking great in his filthy suit. He reminded me of Adam Lambert, a very attractive guy.

I'm Starting To Prefer Downloads

I've always been one who wanted the physical thing, the book, the record, the CD.

But I've had so many and they become such a chore to move and keep track of. So I've been slow about coming to prefer downloads of things instead. But I think I'm starting to like them better.

If you have your hard drive, you can store one or 20,000 equally easily, no more lifting with 20,000 than with one. It's just a matter of keeping a back up, in my opinion.

I'm not buying anything right now, thanks to me getting ready to move. I might need all the cash I have. And I'll get back into it, probably, when I start getting more money and security.

28 After 7

Looking at the clock, I saw it was 28 after 7. Which is about what the clock would look like if the screw in the middle came loose and the hands drooped over time.

I've had a few clocks, including one just yesterday, show a weird time, like the battery was only hitting on every other heartbeat. I have two identical watches and they both funked out, slowed to a crawl, then stopped. I know they're right at least once a day. I don't know about the other time because that's when I'm sleeping.

I see the time on the clock and it's a picture book. Like 10 after 8 or 10 till 8, it's a boy scout doing semaphore signals. Or you could have the same times I must mentioned, along with 10 after 4 and 10 till 4, and we'd have Jack LaLanne doing jumping jacks. But anytime Jack jumps those are jumping jacks.

The kids these days with digital clocks are really missing out. Except they have the joy of looking at 11:11, which gives you that ascendant feeling.

I've Gone Frugal

I've determined that it's necessary for me and my wife to get very frugal right now.

We're between jobs (almost), and that means a lot of expenses getting there, getting things arranged, then a period of time where we won't have any income. So we have to depend on what savings we have.

How it's all going to work out isn't 100% known to me. Since there are these unknowns, with the knowns being as described above, I've laid down the law that we must be frugal. Rather, we discussed it and that's the understanding.

So we had some cheap ham sandwiches and chips and baked beans for dinner, and the same thing (without the beans) for lunch. I had cheap ham sandwiches yesterday too, at least for one meal, maybe both. We're not going to be going out to eat, we're not doing downloads, and we're going to be spending only what's absolutely necessary.

It was kind of a killer today -- but necessary -- that the dog and cat had to have some updated shots, which was over $100. So that's terrible, but we'll be OK. I can absorb several days like that, I just don't want to have to.

The thing is to have discipline and get the transition over with as time passes and steps are made. Then when we have a higher level of daily security we can go back to our normal ways.

Cutting Out Fish Butts

I'm moving.

That's a strenuous process.

I'm in the process of loading books into boxes. It's surprising how many boxes it takes for one bookshelf.

I've got a bunch of U-Haul boxes, which have flaps that need to be sliced in two places to fold them over.

The slicing, coming as it does right at the end, reminds me of cutting the butts out of fish when you're cleaning them. It's basically the last thing you do before tossing the fish into some cold water.

11 Or 12 Minutes Without A Basket

I watched the University of Northern Iowa last night get beat. This time I was actually for them, which might be a curse too big for any team to overcome.

At one point I was thinking, These guys really practice, and they back up and hit the three pointers. They go in and if they happen to miss once in a while, they still go in surprisingly often.

About the time I got done thinking that, which was at half time when I was doing the dishes, I went back for the second half and UNI literally did not score a field goal the last 11 or 12 minutes! Not from downtown, not from the arc, not from mid range, and not from under the basket. Not one single point. It was stunning!

If they hadn't been fouled and gone to the free throw line a few times, they would've had a big goose egg on the board that whole time. And even at the free throw line they basically stunk.

It really makes you wonder what it is that goes so wrong, how the percentage of a team can drop from 50-60 percent to zero. Part of it might be nerves, or wondering what's going wrong and then their confidence is sunk. I don't know. Because you'd think some would go in by accident at least. Especially ones right under the basket.

I was for them ... but they lost. I'm sorry about that!

This Time Tomorrow

I'm big on thinking what will happen and what has been accomplished "This Time Tomorrow." I've been thinking it since around 4 p.m. A big example, at 4 p.m., "This time tomorrow, I will be done with my CPR/First Aid class." 5 p.m., "This time tomorrow, I will be home, then I have a few quick tasks that need to be done."

In addition to that, I'm also big on thinking about "This Time Yesterday." Like, "This time yesterday, I was buying new tires." (I wasn't, that's just an example.) It could happen that I could be thinking, "This time yesterday, I will thinking about this time today, which then was this time tomorrow." You could turn time on its head.

I think I got that from my dad, who always used to say, "Last week at this time, we were..." Or, "It was a month ago today." Or, "A month from today, we'll be..."

It's tough just to live in the moment it always is!

Tea Party Progress

I read an article somewhere today that some of the leadership of the Tea Party group(s) was distancing themselves from the recent violence, so that's a good thing.

Distancing themselves in the sense of discouraging it and realizing that it doesn't have any place in our political system.

So that's a good thing. There seem to be lots of crazies along for the ride, but anything that discourages them acting out their craziness ought to be commended.

I Saw A Big Tree Cut Down Yesterday

I happened to be driving by a public park where some guys -- working for the city -- had a big chainsaw and were cutting down a tree.

The tree had an orange X, meaning it was marked for destruction.

So, like I said, I was driving by, and these guys had the notch out of one side and were working on the opposite side. That meant it was going to fall in the direction of the notch. Thanks to gravity and the fact that there'd be nothing to hold it up on that side.

There they were, struggling with the chainsaw, two of them at times but mostly one guy. I was hoping the second guy wouldn't get his head cut off, because I didn't have my video camera with me at the time.

They struggled on like that for a time, going at it at various angles, keeping up the assault in a persistent way but stepping back repeatedly to discern their progress.

I sat in my car watching. My dog was in the car with me but she didn't seem to notice any of this.

At this point, I'm thinking, "That tree has stood there for 100 years. And now it will come down. How weird that I just happened to be driving by." Weird, but true. I knew, and I thought of it, it will come down but it will not go back up!

Just then, finally, there was a cracking and a movement, with the tree toppling and crashing to the ground. I was trying to see as much as I could, because, without my camera there'd be no instant replays. That's really the way to live the most intensely, by leaving the camera home and paying attention intensely. The dog heard the noise, was afraid, and hit the floor.

The tree quickly came to rest in a prone position.

Then, what's this? I saw a squirrel come running out of what used to be the top most branches and make a mad dash for a different tree! That makes you think, the squirrels have no idea what's going on, but suddenly a tree they've depended on all their lives went crashing down. It'd be enough to make a squirrel doubt the world and his security in it.

The Hot Dog -- A Wonder Drug

I was thinking today of medicine from a dog's point of view.

Whenever our dog gets sick and needs to take pills, we always put them in with a piece of ham or, more commonly, in with a piece of a hot dog.

Meaning that, from a dog's point of view, the hot dog is a wonder drug. "My doctor always prescribes hot dogs. 'Take two hot dogs and call me in the morning.'"

Always Trying To Maintain My Viability

I can't say I envy people who don't try to maintain their viability.

Of course most people would like to cut loose once in a while, like if you were on a desert island with no chance of getting off. It would be fun to drink too much fermented pineapple juice, I suppose. And maybe go a little crazy out there and start walking around nude.

But of course I don't do any of that, because of the viability issue. Maybe you remember something way back from Bill Clinton's history. That he was worried about his military service record or lack thereof, and even as a teenager was trying to maintain his "political viability."

I think the same way. Always wanting to keep my reputation as clean as possible, which I think is a good idea just in general. But it makes a difference when you're filling out forms. Have you ever been convicted of a felony, child abuse, or been drunk and naked on a desert island? I'm always proud to be able to say "No."

That's one of the reasons I have a hard time understanding people who go to political rallies and end up on TV carrying big crazy signs, or are seen shouting obscene slogans, racial epithets, etc. You wouldn't catch me doing that. That's crazy. I've got my viability to worry about.

Same thing about going to some far off city and being caught like Tiger Woods. Really, I have to say, the guy was living dangerously. He had some $40 billion worth of endorsement contracts and one of the most recognizable faces in the world. How did he think he could get away with it forever? I'm sitting here, as unknown as anyone can be -- seriously, I'm not at all famous -- and you wouldn't catch me doing any of that. Even if I wanted to, which I don't.

Tiger had all those gals. But I've got my viability to keep me warm!

A Time Machine CD

I'm listening to a CD that I haven't listened to for years. Dire Straits' "Brothers In Arms."

It's on my iTunes, from back when I was trying to get all my CDs on there, and only managed to get up to E or G.

It's definitely a time machine CD, since I don't listen to it with any regularity. I remember buying it at the place we lived in 1986-87. CDs were very new at the time and I didn't have a lot of money to buy them. So it was a big deal to get it.

Now that I'm a big success, having enough groceries for a couple of days, this CD reminds me of tougher, more challenging times.

If I'm ever down on my luck -- which could happen out of the blue -- I'll know which CD to get out to promise me we'll get through it.

Sheriff Issues Stern Warning (1967)

I have a subscription to an online newspaper archive. Is there more than one?

Sometimes when I'm killing time I go to a random paper and random date and see what was going on.

Today I was looking at a paper called Emmetsburg Democrat Emmetsburg Reporter, Emmetsburg, IA, Dec. 28, 1967, p. 1. That's the actual name of the paper, that whole mouthful, it would appear.

In this issue there was a story about some trouble out by the lake. Sheriff Dick Miller reported that several private cabins by Lost Island Lake were broken into recently.

But the crooks weren't looking for just anything, just liquor. Once in they left everything else alone.

The thing I like about the article is the sheriff's stern warning:

"It would appear that some people no longer have any respect for private property, and I am fed up with it. If they are apprehended, I will see to it that they get the book."

You don't want to get him "fed up" or he'll get right on it and see that the perps get the book!

To me it sounds like kids, the whole booze angle. Wonder how it turned out!

Why I'm Not For Oklahoma State

I'm not a big sports fan. I have very few favorite teams. But I've been watching the Georgia Tech/Oklahoma State basketball game.

So how am I for? Well, I'm not for Oklahoma State for this reason, because I don't like the politics at Oklahoma.

Georgia might not be much better. But at least they're not notorious about it.

UPDATE:  Georgia Tech is ahead by 5 toward the end, and there it is, Oklahoma State lost! Thanks to their crummy politics, no doubt.

All The Missing Obits

I was trying to look up an obit for one of my uncles, who died in 1998, and couldn't find it.

There's too many missing obits. I've come to the point that I expect this stuff to be there, so I can find out the details of someone's life.

Plus, it's not like he died in 1492.

So, come on, funeral homes. Get it on there!

My Phone Number Is 7

The graphic is from a 1938 grocery store ad in a newspaper (Leon, Iowa). How about the phone number, 7?

That would be wild to have a single digit phone number. Back then they no doubt had to have the switchboard person connect them, like on "Andy Griffith." Otherwise anytime someone started dialing a number that started with 7 your phone would ring.

Wonder who got 1? That'd be something. The day you got the phone number 1 there was no one to call, at least in that town.

It was probably a disruption for them when the phone numbers got lengthened. They'd be thinking, We've been 7 all these years! Why can't we keep it!

Here is someone who had their phone number as "1". The newspaper, The Spirit Lake Beacon, Spirit Lake, Iowa, in 1933.

It's A Joy To Write This

I have some level of contentment tonight. Maybe it helps that I was just out for a really decent meal.

(I have some future anxiety coming up, but I'm trying to put it out of my mind, to keep my contentment going.)

I decided to check out some streaming radio stations on iTunes. They're playing a Jimi Hendrix song, "Look Over Yonder," (suddenly it's ended), so that was nice.

It's a joy to write this, to write anything. To add to the noosphere. Am I really adding to the noosphere, though, or is the noosphere actually set and I'm just manifesting something from it? Good question, thanks.

Some nights I have a hard time with it. But those times I'm not into the stream of consciousness like a person ought to be. Even my fingers are unusually warm tonight. The free music, the Snuggie I'm wearing, the meal, all is right with the world at this moment. (Except for the future anxiety thing.)

Treat your life as an adventure ... anyway. It's not set exactly what you need to do in perpetuity. You never can tell the next thing, so be open to it.

Poach Alligators, Not Eggs

I don't know that I've ever had a poached egg. I had a chance to have one today and asked for fried instead.

As for eggs themselves, it's a good thing I grew up eating eggs, because I don't know if I'd be able to eat one if I wasn't already used to it. They look so strange. And since they're basically the goop that goes into making and nourishing a brand new chicken, it seems odd to be eating them.

We've eaten to death several generations of chickens by now. And one of them might've been the chicken Einstein, or Chickenman himself.

Chickenman wasn't the Messiah (of chickens), of course. We might've eaten the Messiah of chickens. He was going to be born at their equivalent of Bethlehem, with a whole flock of wise chickens on their way to bring him gifts. And we lumped him together with "cackle fruit," as my dad used to call eggs, and ate him.

I Was Beware Of The Ides Of March

I made it through most of the day successfully. There's still an hour and a half to go till midnight. But no one's stabbed me yet.

I was looking for my thin copy of "Julius Caesar" today but never could find it. I have one of Shakespeare's thicker editions but I didn't want to cart it with me. (I'm traveling). I thought I could read parts of it in my free time. But it's just as well. I didn't have any free time today.

It'd be both a great day ... and a terrible day to be stabbed. Great because it is the Ides of March. Terrible because no one wants to be stabbed.

Hey, you know what? I was stabbed today, because a nurse was giving me Step 2 of a TB test. So she did stab me in my arm! That's my stabbing story. There was a stabbing pain.

Too Many Books

I was demonstrating to someone today that I could get rid of a box of books off my shelf just like that, by setting a box by the shelf and putting them in it.

I have a bunch of books. But a lot of my books are ones I bought on a second's notice on the cheap, so I'm not so terribly attached to them as it might seem.

I do have a philosophy about them that would help me get rid of them. It's this: There are lots of other books that I could have and find indispensable. So because I don't have them, it doesn't make any sense that the ones I have would be indispensable now. That is, if I can live without the ones I don't have, then I can live without the ones I do have. It's an offshoot of one of my older philosophies, which is this, If you can't have everything in the world, there's no reason to have anything.

There is, to be 100% accurate, plenty of reasons to have something. Because you do need a certain amount of things in the course of life. But you could be stripped down to about nothing and still get along perfectly well. Having something, say a book, or not having it isn't going to make any big difference. Anyway, there are millions (or many thousands) of books you're never going to have, so why worry about the ones you do have?

All that said, it doesn't follow that I'm going to get rid of them wholesale. Because I might get some good out of them.                 

No Complaints

I was at someone's funeral in the last month, the father of a friend, and the minister said of the deceased that he was never known to complain.

I find that hard to believe, but of course we're all existing from our own perspective. Being a complainer myself, if they say that when I die we'll know they're lying! Except I won't be here to tell you. So I'm telling you now. I will put it in my will that this particular blog entry needs to be read out loud.

I'm a complainer. There, I said it. I've been complaining today, at least to myself, about the crappy service at a restaurant and an MP3 website on the internet. And the day's young ... but not as young as it will be [technically it'll be tomorrow] when we spring forward for Daylight Savings Time.

I feel like complaining about Daylight Savings Time, even though it's nice to have it not get dark till 9 p.m.

By the way, that's how they did it in the Bible, that business about Joshua's longest day. Except back then they did it in the middle of the day. Joshua said it's 4 p.m. instead of 3, and everyone had another hour to win the battle.

I think the internet is a great place to complain, if only I could make my complaints go viral. I'd be able to bring down some of these big businesses who treat their customers badly. But alas, my complaints go nowhere. They don't make the news. And that's something to complain about.

A Bunch of Alfred Hitchcock Movies

I bought one of those video bin DVD sets at Walmart, a bunch of movies by Alfred Hitchcock, $5 for four DVDs.

Some of the reviews I looked at at Amazon say there could be technical difficulties in there somewhere, which I wouldn't doubt. A few years ago I got a John Wayne set that had technical difficulties, such as freezing up at certain points no matter what you did.

But so far so good on this one. But I've only watched one and most of another movie.

The one I watched last night was great, "The Lady Vanishes." I was definitely trying to think how it was going to resolve itself, the whole business on the train about Miss Froy vanishing. Maybe she wasn't even there, because the other woman was hit on the head by a planter. That was a mystery, which, if you haven't seen it, would be worth your time to find!

I like the various actors in the film, since they had some really weird spooky looking ones on the train, characters. The two Englishmen were pretty funny too, both at the hotel which the film starts and on the train. There's a lot of witty things throughout.

The other film I'm having a hard time staying awake for, even though it's not bad. It's silent, so I'm listening to music while having to pay extra close attention to the film. It makes me tired and I have to give up for a while. It's called "The Farmer's Wife." I'm not a big fan of silent films, because of all the work you have to do to watch one. Also they're very unnatural.

Anyway, a farmer's wife dies, then he marries off his daughter, then he feels like getting married himself. But who should he get married to? He's going through the list of possibilities, picturing them sitting in his wife's empty chair. He has a housekeeper who he's not even considering, but the box says she's "secretly in love" with him, so I would guess he eventually opens his eyes to the very fit woman already under his roof.

The film has a hired man who's fun to watch. He looks like a real character and plays the rustic part to the hilt.

The Kids In Kindergarten Through Third Grade

How often do you think about the kids you knew in kindergarten through third grade?

Up until recently it wasn't very often. Some of them in my case were kids I re-met in high school, but of course by then everything had changed. Because we moved, whatever relationships we had broke off in mid-third grade.

But now that we have Facebook, there's some movement underway to become friends ... with these very folks. It's cool.

Now I should find the pictures from those years, which I don't have possession of .... but somewhere "back home" they probably still exist.

Still Thinking About Candy

In 9th grade speech class one of my speeches was on "How To Eat Candy In School Without Getting Caught," including several great pointers on unwrapping candy under your leg, to muffle the sound.

Now that I'm an old man I'm still thinking about candy. Namely how to eat it without rushing it and thus needing more. I put it in my mouth with the best of intentions, that I will stretch it out and make it last. If I'd do that, that one little thing, I'd have candy tomorrow and the next day instead of just today.

But even though I have that intention, I put it in my mouth and start moving my mouth and next thing you know my swallowing instinct has made me consume it and so I need another piece. That's ridiculous. Why can't I do this?

I've tried smaller pieces, but the same movement and swallowing instinct seems to have a mind of its own.

Another thing to really enjoy candy to the utmost is to breathe a lot through your mouth. That's where the taste comes from. If you keep your mouth closed, you can barely taste it, or certainly not as well.

There went another piece. Also when I'm doing something like this, writing this, I have a hard time focusing on my best of intentions. But really that's my limit. I've had several already. And I want to save some for tomorrow, no matter what it takes.

Toyota

Is this the end of the road for Toyota?

They say there's no such thing as bad publicity. But hearing about cars that don't work, and when they do work won't stop, has to be bad.

Is there anyone out there who thinks their next car might be a Toyota? Me either.

Peripheral Vision

I had the thought today that you might see more interesting stuff if you aren't looking at everything directly.

I was at the doctor's office for an appointment and was sitting in the waiting room (for labs) and people were passing in the hall. I wasn't looking up or looking that way, and a couple of times I could've sworn some weird spectacles walked by. But since it was just my peripheral vision, mixed in probably with the fact that nothing is clear that way, I'm sure the people looked perfectly normal.

It made me think that every time I see something that reminds me of something outlandish, I always look to clear things up. But the real key might be not to look, not to get things cleared up. Just let your imagination run wild as these creatures are passing in front of your peripheral vision.

It could've been some big bird person, like from mythology. Or a giant.

Coincidentally, after thinking this, I took a vision test which included a peripheral vision test. I did fairly well on it, so that means I could put my new thoughts on looking at things only peripherally to the test.

Constipated 30 Years

Come on, if you're constipated 30 years, that's the new normal for you. At that point you don't know any difference. Sure, you'd still have your memories that you used to go to the bathroom. But really, if you can make it 20 years, you can do anything.

But we have Alice Burns' testimony. 30 years with constipation, choked by souring food. Then she took some Adlerika and became a new person.

(Ad from Lyon County Reporter, Rock Rapids, IA, Jan. 11, 1934, p. 9.)

A Night For Salmon

It reminds me of the Seinfeld where Kramer was making a link between Salmon Rushdie and salmon the fish. That's what I've been thinking of.

Tonight was a night for salmon. I was at the store and saw some frozen salmon in a bag and it didn't seem like too much, so I got a bag.

It's frozen but thaws out pretty fast in some lukewarm water. And it cooks fast under a broiler. The pack says five minutes but I let it go longer than that, plus I flipped it over.

It was good. I had two filets, leaving me two left in the bag. That's something I don't eat very often. I believe I had it only once before, out of a can. This was definitely better.

Disturbing The Jelly Beds

We went out for breakfast today, so i witnessed the sad sight of jelly being disturbed in its bed.

What a rude awakening, to have the covers ripped off you, then not only to be exposed to the cold but to have a cold knife thrust into you and to find your hide chafing against a piece of rough toast.

The looked very comfortable, too, the strawberry and the grape. Like they thought it'd always be that way. And some in the back room probably still have that hope.

Some are taken, some are left.

Trying To Learn The Key Of F

This probably isn't very interesting.

But really, what is?

Isn't life just one boring detail after another made interesting by your attitude toward it? I believe so. I think I'll state that as a statement instead of a question. Life is just one boring detail after another made interesting by your attitude toward it.

I have my own things going on. In a way, I'm not that into these particular details, but I'm writing something tonight and this may as well be it.

I'm an old man who's been playing the guitar for 40 years. Or just a little over. But I'm one of the more unusual old time guitarists in that I haven't greatly improved in all that time.

Of course I've always known the F chord and can do it OK. But I haven't really played songs in the KEY of F, and I didn't even know what chords were the basics in it till the other day. Normally I've done F without the bass strings, but looking at the key of F, an online description of it, they bar across, etc. I can do that only fairly well.

It's the next two chords that I'm not great at, B flat and C7th. Although I know a version of C7 which is just the C chord plus one finger down on the 2nd string. The C7th chord on the website is different and sounds slightly different, with some barring on the 3rd fret and two other depressed strings on the 5th fret. That one comes tough to me, not being used to it. And B flat I've always done without the bass strings, but trying to bar across is tough on that one. Because your fingers are very bunched up.

It's not sounding good. Plus my old fingers are getting old and hurt a little more than they did 40 years ago.

Potential New Republican Hero Arrested

Ahh, they arrested this guy before any damage was done. And to think, we might've had the next Republican hero.

NEW CASTLE, Del. — Police in Delaware say a man angry about his sewer bill was arrested after he suggested someone should crash a plane into a county government center.

Since the Republicans were on board with the guy who crashed his plane into the IRS building, especially Iowa Republican Steve King, who "empathized" with him and 'understood his frustrations', our hearts go out to them that they may have been deprived of a new hero.

I can't believe what Republicans can get away with, the stupid stuff they say, like Steve King and his remark about understanding the frustrations of the IRS plane guy. I can't imagine a Democrat getting away with that kind of thing, let's say if we had someone stupid enough to say something like it.

Or Republicans who are secessionists! They love America so much they want to leave it. What Democrat could get away with such a lack of actual patriotism, again, if there was one dumb enough to say such things?

Violence isn't the way, stupid.

The Senate Is Such A Joke

One guy -- Bunning -- has the power to shut the whole place down.

That is what I would call one ridiculous institution!

Trotsky

Which are you gonna do, trot or ski? Trotsky, always hot to trot.

A Personal Filmmaker

I just read about a guy who was the "personal filmmaker" for a famous rock band of the past.

I'm not specifying the band or the guy, because there's a better than even chance that I used to know the guy personally. He told me in the 1970s that he took one of the photos on the back of one of their LPs and that he knew at least one band member's phone number.

So when I was Googling the guy's name, I find this reference to him, that someone with the exact same name was their "personal filmmaker." It surely wasn't him was it? I remember this guy having lots of cameras and saying he made films of various rock stars, in their swimming pools and other places, but I just don't know. I never saw any of the films, although I did see plenty of pictures he took of other stuff.

Anyway, this wasn't meant to be a post about the mysteries of this particular guy -- who may be dead now. Because I see that a filmmaker with the exact same name did die in the last couple years, even though he still has an apparently alive Facebook page, so you tell me...

I would love to know. Is it the same guy? Is he alive? Is he dead? The guy with the exact same name who was a definite filmmakers is indeed dead. I saw it at two separate web pages, by experts who apparently would know.

The more the mystery drags on, the less likely that my guy will be alive. Anyway.

It would be cool to be someone's "personal filmmaker." Except for me, I'd be so nervous that I'd film them all day only to find out that something went wrong with the camera. They're all high-fiving each other for the great hijinks that we filmed. And I'm standing there with a camera full of tangled up film and nothing. That would be terrible.

That's also the feeling I would have if I were a wedding photographer. I would need four separate cameras taking pictures of everything, so I could definitely have at least one working.

A Terrific Week For Andy Williams

Look at this Billboard chart from May 25, 1963, monaural albums, just the top 10 of a larger chart.

What a terrific week for Andy Williams! Number 1 and Number 10, two separate albums. At that point "Moon River & Other Great Movie Themes" had already been on the chart for over a year and it was still in the top 10! Along with other long-termers "West Side Story" and "Peter, Paul & Mary."

Andy's success back then explains his perennial presence at every Goodwill and Salvation Army story in the world today. Because a lot of his fans who were buying LPs back then are now dead. His albums are everywhere!

Just looking again, Peter, Paul & Mary have two albums on the top 10 too.

The Elvis album at number 4, "It Happened At The World's Fair" is an LP you never see these days. I don't think I've ever seen one at Goodwill. His LPs are not usually there, maybe because people have the suspicion that they're collectable. They are, of course. The ones I do see are always beat to death ... and they're not collectable.

The album at number 9 is the one with Frank Fontaine's goofy character's face on the front, Crazy Guggenheim. I've had it, maybe I still do somewhere. And I saw it in the bins at some point in the last six months.

All in all, it was a great week for Andy! And several others.

It's Pat Robertson Time Again!

We've just had another massive earthquake, this one in Chile.

Meaning, of course, we've once again entered Pat Robertson territory, who we can expect at any minute to make his appearance.

I'm hoping to steal some of his thunder, so I'm feverishly checking the records of various national curses from the 1400s. But the data is hard to come by. Even Google's records aren't that reliable from so far back.

So we might have to wait on Pat after all. For him the 1400s were just last week, or his constant reality, so he'll no doubt have the inside scoop long before the rest of us!

But I'm definitely working on it and wondering ... Was there some ancient chieftain down there -- and it doesn't have to be the 1400s, it might be earlier or even later -- who made a pact with the devil -- that might just now be coming due?

We're looking in to it!

Land Of The Dead

I've been to three funerals this month. The latest being today, with the death of a friend's father.

I was sitting on a chair that was much too close to the guy next to me. Because that's where the usher put me. But the chair to the left of that one was open. I was leaving it in case the usher brought someone else to put there. Then when the service started, I moved over.

I was feeling very tired. I guess I got to bed a little too late last night. When we had prayer, I felt like I could almost fall asleep. But I definitely (of course) caught myself, thinking how bad it'd be to be heard snoring in a funeral. So I looked up instead.

When I got there I had on two coats, my outer, thicker one, then a lighter sweatshirt. I was going to hang up the outer coat only and wear the sweatshirt in. So I hung it up, then the lady at the door told me I could hang my coat up, meaning the sweatshirt. I looked at it and it was filthy, with some cat hair and dust on it. So I hung it up too. 

The Republicans' Cynical Obstructionism

How can any sane person take the Republicans seriously? They are so obviously opposed to any progress in this country, and as far as I can see they're not even trying to hide it anymore.

To the Republicans, if anything is being done that might bring an ounce of benefit to President Obama, they're against it. And they're willing to crow about it far and wide.

I just saw John Cornyn on one of those crappy cable news interviews. No matter what they said to him, he spun it as something terrible that we would have anything the president might want. Then there was Ben Stein, and the same thing. Then there was another Republican, and at that point I turned it off without hearing one syllable out of his lying mouth.

I was just reading that Newt Gingrich now thinks that majority rule in the Congress is some kind of anti-American plot. Of course we all can remember very well the Republican years, when they were singing a different tune. Just speaking for myself, I don't remember very many incidences of them looking out for the minority party's interests and opinions.

Note to Congress: We need decent health care reform. Kick the obstructionist Republicans aside. It is obvious to one and to all that they are not interested in contributing positively to the effort. This effort or any other. Get it done. Do it. Vote already!

No Sheet Sherlock

This is not about Sherlock Holmes, but a different Sherlock, whose big thing was to join the Ku Klux Klan but not have to wear a sheet. Meaning he would be called "No Sheet Sherlock."

It's not that lame (maybe it is). Different people have different principles. Just because Sherlock hated everyone except white people didn't mean he was a terrible person generally. Maybe he had a bad upbringing, or maybe he was hit in the head with a baseball and was never right after that. He just wanted to stick with his own and let his own stick with him. All others could butt out!

But joining the KKK wasn't really something he sought. He just fell into it really. Some guys were organizing a big march against immigrant restaurants, black owned diners, Jewish stores, and so forth. Everything that was something that they hated.

(This isn't funny.)

Anyway, one of the guys knew Sherlock and knew that he'd been hit in the head and wasn't quite right, so they brought him along. But Sherlock didn't want to wear a sheet. He didn't want his face and head to be covered up, no matter what. That's the one thing he refused to do. "I'll ride with you, I'll string people up, I'll burn crosses on the lawn, but I will not put one of those sheets on my head."

(This is really lame.)

So that's how we got him, No Sheet Sherlock.

(OK, enough.)

Dance

Roll your hands in front of you like they're in a furry hand muff. Throw the right hand out and bring it back. Throw the left hand out and bring it back. Roll them again, repeating as the beat demands.

The Feminine Facebook

Has anyone else noticed that Facebook is a very feminine thing?

At least it is with my account -- and I'm a guy. I have a number of men friends on there, but it's mostly the women friends who do the sharing.

I started noticing this fairly early on but it's gotten more obvious as time's gone on. The other day I had the entire screen -- my recent messages, etc. -- and everything with two small exceptions was written by women.

What are all these gals writing about? A lot of it has to do with games they're playing. I have quite a bit of this blocked so I don't see everything. They're playing a farm game of some sort, meaning they need to beg each other for a chicken coop or a cattle prod or something. Plus they're busy commiserating with each other over doctor's appointments and bad news. Or giving each other hearts and flowers, hugs and all kinds of nice thoughts.

It's a very feminine place. Very sweet, tender stuff.

Watching "Blue Hawaii"

I've going through my stack of Elvis Presley movies, watching one after the other.

There's some I don't plan on watching, like "Love Me Tender" or any of the more depressing ones. Any where Elvis dies, gets beat to a pulp, is a juvenile delinquent, or in prison are not my favorites. I may be a minority voice, but I definitely prefer the more happy go lucky movies where there's a good time involved.

Of course even in the good time movies, there's conflict. That's natural to a story. But I like my conflict on the easy side, not the sour stuff that shows Elvis in a bad light. Like his Daddy wants him to go into his business but Elvis wants to be independent. That's the kind of conflict I can tolerate.

Right now -- while exercising mornings and evenings -- I'm watching "Blue Hawaii." This is a good film. There's a lot of good songs and scenery. There's the guy who played Floyd the Barber. Angela Lansbury is Elvis' mom.

Maybe the worst part of the movie is the fact that the girl from the tourist group is pursuing Elvis, and she's underage. To his credit, when she kisses him he pushes her away. Still it's kind of nasty. Then he gets into a fight concerning her and ends up in the jail. That's where I am now, right at the place where his disappointed Daddy has to come bail him out. Bad conflict.

Of course it all works out in the end. But there's some more unpleasantness involving this particular bratty girl, then the teacher with Elvis, before he finally ends up with his true lady love in the film.

My Dog's A Senior

That has to be tough, the whole dog years thing that dogs face. You're a puppy one day, a toddler the next week, an adult in six months, and applying for Social Security when you're seven or eight.

The dog food I buy my dog, Iams, has a "seniors" variety for dogs over seven. And my dog's actually going to be 11 this summer, so she ought to be on life support. Except she actually acts fairly youthful for such an old age.

We still call her a puppy.

It's Oppressive To Be Full

I ate too much. Shouldn't have. It's not usually as good a thing as you think it's going to be.

Instead of feeling good, I feel heavy, lethargic. And this is after a really good nap today, a lengthy one. Sometime after lunch and some other official duties, I got the sudden feeling of tiredness. I lay down and immediately went to sleep, in a sleep that seemed like it lasted quite a while. But it couldn't have been two hours.

I went to the grocery store and got some ham, bread, peaches, baked beans, and ice cream. Then when I got home I had some of each thing, two sandwiches and all the rest. Weighty, as it turned out.

So I'm sitting here, not exactly fresh and able to get much done. I'm sitting here in a kind of heavy fog. Not sad, but feeling overwhelmed.

It's Almost Time For Spring Cleaning

I have it as my pre-Spring resolution to get my possessions thinned out.

I have a basement full of stuff. Some that I want to keep, some I will be getting rid of. The way I want to get rid of it, though, isn't selling it piece by piece on eBay, which would take forever, but by giving to thrift stores.

I hate though to overwhelm them. Now I'm wondering how much stuff is allowable to haul to a thrift store. I'd hate to show up with 100 boxes of stuff. Which would probably be an overestimate of what I have.

It is important to me to thin out. I have so much stuff, it's ridiculous. If I ever were to move, I don't know that I could. I'd be bogged down on the highway.

Incognito

I saw an unmarked bus traveling by. They're usually marked. A big bus logo. Something pertaining to the famous passengers. Something about the team, in those cases.

This one was completely unmarked. It was the White Album of buses, definitely traveling incognito.

Barney Fife voice: "Nito, In-cog-nito."

'50s commercial voice: "Kids! It's Neato! In-cog-neato!"

Joe Friday: "My name is Nito, In-cog-Nito."

The Day The Earth Stood still: "Klaatu barada incognito."

Curling

I was exercising at the exercise place tonight. I didn't have any headphones, so I couldn't hear it, but I was watching curling in the Olympics.

I guess I saw this a few years ago too but I wasn't paying that close of attention. I didn't realize several things about it, or I'd forgotten, that they're trying the knock the other guys' "thing" out of the target area. That was fascinating. I really enjoyed it.

I don't know all the rules (any of them really) but I could guess certain things. 1) You can't touch the "thing" while it's in motion. They really doing a lot of work to clear a path, make it go faster or slower, etc. What a job!

That was interesting. It was U.S.A. versus Japan. I don't know who won.

I'm A Ding Dong Daddy From Dumas

Here's a song we used to sing around my house, for some reason. But with this one Louis Armstrong says, "You oughta see me do my stuff," and we used to sing "You oughta see me do my thing."

To me, wherever this song entered my consciousness is in the shrouded memories of the past, which I don't remember because they are so shrouded. Maybe it was on an old cartoon. We used to hear the song "Is You Is or Is You Ain't My Baby?" on a cartoon and thought it was pretty funny. Also memorable.

Any of that old stuff. There was another one I was thinking of, like "Mama Don't Allow No..." although that's usually a country type of song. But it seems like I heard an R&B version of it just recently. "We don't care what Mama don't allow, we're going to pick our git-tar any old how!"

Check out the video above. The guy who made that video has numerous others, some obscure old 78 rpm records that are treasures.

Valentine Marshmallow Treats

It's tough to eat these slowly.

I had a whole box and now they're already gone. They just melt in your mouth, not exactly on contact but with a little help from your chewing mechanism.

They go down quickly though, without much effort. I keep thinking, Make it last, why swallow them so fast? But it doesn't do any good. You get the taste, then down the hatch.

Very tasty. Being a Valentine's item, they won't be on the shelf after today.

Little Debbie "Be My Valentine Marshmallow Treats."

Happy Birthday Again, Peter Tork

I wished Peter Tork a happy birthday here last year on this very day, Feb. 13. Because it is Peter Tork's birthday.

How do I know that? From a long time ago when I was a teenager, and it's something I simply haven't forgotten.

He's still out there, by the way, performing. He's on Facebook, with other people wishing him happy birthday.

Would you like it to have hundreds of strangers wishing you happy birthday? I personally don't think I'd enjoy that at all. But he's been famous (or semi-famous) all these years, so he must be used to it. Still, it must be terrible. The price of fame. I would hate it.

Anyway, he's a part of my consciousness and I'm not a part of his, so that makes me a perfect stranger. LOL. Be that as it may, my consciousness can't forget. February 13 is Peter Tork's birthday. That's all it is, except it's also the day before Valentine's Day.

So ... Happy birthday again, Peter Tork. And all the best to you, from a perfect stranger, an old fan.

Nice Note To Mom

Mom, you've been like a mother to me.

Writing Something On A Particular Day

I'm going to be stating a few obvious things that don't really need to be stated. But some days, like today, I start thinking like this. I'm lightheaded today, almost faint. I don't know what's going on. But if it goes on for more than one day, like a week, I'll get it checked out.

Everything that I write is written on a particular day. That's one thing. And this goes for other folks as well. Some things of course are written over a lengthier period of time. Like a novel might be written over a week, a month, a year, or longer. But each paragraph, each word, was written on a particular day.

This little post, which will disappear as soon as I hit the "Publish Post" button, was written (is being written) this day, Feb. 12, 2010. (Hey, that's Abraham Lincoln's birthday. And since we had his 200th birthday last year, this must be his 201st.)

I have lots of other little posts. Occasionally I see them, like if I'm searching for a link to something to wrote one time, and I'll see when it was written. Like Aug. 4, 2008, just to take a random date from the fairly recent past. I don't know that I wrote anything that day, maybe I didn't. But let's say I did. Right now, without looking somewhere where it might be written, I don't remember what was going on that day. Just like I'm likely to forget today.

So not remembering a day, I'm not 100% on what my mood was that day, etc.

We're all in the same boat. Mark Twain, William Faulkner, all us famous authors. We write what we write on a particular day, and it gets read sometime later -- especially in the case of authors before the internet.

I think John Keats died when he was 25. So everything he wrote -- and I mean everything -- was written before his 26th birthday and before he died.

Your Sole Purpose In Life

Someone keeps trying to post this comment at my blogs: "It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply to serve as a warning to others." Then they attach a link to it to whatever their website is.

The reason I keep rejecting it is because of the link. I don't want to be directing people to some weird website. I myself haven't clicked it because I'm very suspicious of all such things.

So there, your comment has been posted. But just looking around the internet, I see this comment is repeated over and over. So now it's been said one more time. Let's look at it:

It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply to serve as a warning to others.

I think the quote stinks. That's your "sole purpose in life." That's really a cheerful sentiment. What am I, a guard dog? A guard dog usually stands as a warning to others, but even a guard dog, you wouldn't say that's his "sole purpose." Because he might provide the junk yard owner with some companionship. Maybe he'll rescue the guy from a nest of bees in an old Studebaker, grabbing him by the belt and pulling him all the way to the hospital.

So, to whoever keeps posting this. Let this be a warning. It's not going to make it with the link attached. My sole purpose in life is to express and adhere to this policy.

Hey, look at that gnarly guy over there! His sole purpose in life is to serve as a warning to me. Poor guy, existing in such a terrible way just as a warning. They could've put up a sign and spared him the misery of life.

What Punk Rockers Think About All Day

What do punk rockers think about all day?

Mostly maggots, they think of maggots. And barbed wire, razor blades, electric fences, and pain. They think about thrashing about, hitting their heads against each other and other hard surfaces.

To them, it's nothing to dwell among the dregs, to make every experience as bitter as possible, to excite themselves with a quick gouge to the eye or to poke a knife in their leg.

They might get drunk and get a tattoo of something feral on their face. Tattoo artists see them coming and know they either give in or get their trailer trashed. They'll start their tirades if they're denied.

Everything to them is negative, a chance to laugh at normality, which, strangely, they appear to recognize.

The rest of us, if we looked at a policeman cross-eyed, they'd have us in chains and big tight cuffs. But these punk rockers can drive by at 100 mph, fingering everything in their wake, living it up, and railing to high heaven, making garbage out of everything in their path, and no one lays a hand on them.

It's all nihilism and hedonism, self-inflicted pain and suffering, and inflicting it on others. A quick knife to the gut, to them that's their idea of glory.