Girl On Skateboard

I saw a little girl sitting on a skateboard. She was wearing a dress. The dress covered up the skateboard from the side. Some other kids were pushing her. It looked like a girl's head, a poofed out dress with a flat bottom being pushed down the sidewalk. Weird sight from the side!

From behind, as I drove by, I could see the skateboard clearly so it took away some of the effect. But it's still rare to see someone in a dress sitting on a skateboard being pushed.

Who's your favorite member of the group Daughtry?

My Dog

My dog got to go to the park (different ones) two times today. That's a great day.

I may not be doing a lot right in life but at least I'm treating my dog well. And that ought to be scoring me some points, right?

She looks at me with devotion. And I look back at her with devotion. I'd like to know what she's thinking. Maybe, "Alpha Dog nice guy." Which is true, I am pretty nice.

All the petting, cleaning up after, saying "Good girl," etc. People see me coming and, if they knew about how great I was with this dog, they'd surely be going, "There's that guy who's so great with his dog."

And if they knew about this blog, they'd be saying, "Let's read his blog today and see what he said about us." And his dog.

Censored

Today's entry is censored because it reflects poorly on me as a person. Had it been published, I would've been seen as an average guy who occasionally gets angry. I don't want that.

The Twelfeth Of Never

I had to look it up how you spell twelfth. I knew it was that or thelvth, but there's definitely an F sound in it. It's not a word I spell very often, so I haven't got it on the tip of my brain.

It's the twelfth of the month but not the twelfth of never.

I've got that song playing right now ... Johnny Mathis. How long will he love you? Until the twelfth of never, he'll still be loving you. And that's a long, long time.

Sheb Wooley, the warmest man in show business.

All Pooped Out

I love listening to Yogi Yorgesson (Harry Stewart) but I don't have a systematic way of doing it. I don't have any CD collections, which would be ideal. I have a handful of 45s and this one 78.

The 78 I have on my iPod but the others are in boxes. And by handful, I mean less than 10, so it's far from anything.

I made an MP3 of his "Grandma" song but it's still unprocessed, untagged, etc. This 78, "All Pooped Out" backed with "Square Dance Hulda," is a great one.

My dad did a very minor Scandihoovian accent, talking about some of our cousins from Wisconsin, "Yohnny Yohnson."

Yogi's record is S & G 3010. He used to give the girls the eye, but now he just wants another piece of pie. He's all pooped out when it comes to girls but not food. He could dance the polka like a yumping yack.

Harry Stewart sounds like a genius to me. Or at least someone very insightful and clever. His records tell some fun things about human nature.

Go, Goo, Go!

Yesterday I got a CD by the Go-Go's and one by the Goo Goo Dolls. So the Gos and the Goos in one day.

Troths

There's hog troughs and the troths people pledge at weddings. And with waves, crests and troughs, the same as with hogs.

I feel today like I'm in one of those bio/spiritual troughs. And that's the honest to God trough.

Cold Watermelon

I had a piece of cold watermelon today. It was better than warm watermelon.

I really like it when you get a decent seedless one. None of the fuss and muss of spitting seeds like in the old days. Just munching it down like a glutton.

It's one of the foods of summer!

Al Franken

Al Franken finally gets to take his place in the U.S. Senate tomorrow. What a great thing. Too bad the Republican mischief-makers were able to chisel six months off his term. But better late than never.

It seems Al is not showing any humor. Which is probably smart. You don't want to provoke people at this point. And the Republican mischief-makers (is there any other kind?) are on the lookout for something to bellyache about. Like always.

I see the tea party/teabaggers were out in (reduced) force on July 4. Where were these people when George W. Bush was running up the deficit? Good question. They didn't decide to object to government mismanagement all those years. Now we have someone trying to put the house back in order and they come around bellyaching about it. It's like someone sets fire to their house, they don't make a peep. Someone shows up to put the fire out, then they complain. Weird bunch.

I saw some of these folks in my town on July 4. And they seemed to have it pretty well disguised what they were pushing. They really did. I bet there wouldn't be 2% of the people where I was that day who had any idea what their name and literature had to do with. Because they weren't protesting anything in particular, just pushing the idea of these "parties." But I knew and let them pass without taking any of their literature.

They're very choosy protestors. Very partisan, you might say. Very selective in what they object to. In other words, as principled as the Republicans usually are. (Not.)

Anyway, welcome to the U.S. Senate, Senator Franken. (I hope O'Reilly has head insurance, because his is about to explode.) LOL. Senator Franken. Suck on that, Bill.

Went Swimming

I went swimming at the municipal pool today, which has its fun aspects. Plus, since it's been a hot day it seemed like a good thing to do.

I went right in the hottest part of the day, which is unusual for me because I try to avoid sunburning and don't like sunscreen. But I was determined not to be in long and I wasn't. So I'm not suffering especially but even a brief time does something.

I stayed under one of those mesh cabanas in the shadier place for a while, but then assumed that ultraviolet rays were still getting through.

As for the pool itself it was very refreshing, very cold feeling at first.

I'm glad to have a season pass so I can make lots of short visits like this.

Marion Barry Accused Of Stalking Woman In Park

Former mayor of Washington, D.C., Marion Barry, was charged with stalking his ex-girlfriend in a park.

U.S. Park Service Police arrested Barry (D-Ward 8) about 8:45 p.m. in Anacostia Park after a woman flagged down an officer to report that a man in a nearby vehicle was "bothering her," police said.

This sounds like something from Finnegans Wake. And original sin.

Trees In Cracks

There's trees growing in the accumulated seeds and muck in the driveway. They're not going to live to provide wood for lumber, that's for sure. There's nowhere for the roots to go, for one. Plus, we'll need to get the car out over the years. Nature!

Baby Back Ribs

They're out of baby back ribs? You can't tell me they haven't got baby hogs going through the grinder!

She spoke with sarcasm. Yeah, her mouth IS a sour chasm.

Slim Whitman

I'm listening to a Slim Whitman from around 1980, Just For You. Making MP3s from it actually. Slim has one of the dearest, sweetest voices in music. I did another LP a while ago, the one with the song "When." Such a pretty song.

The Kennedy Curse. I'm noticing that the farther we get from 1963 the more people from then who seem to be dying.

Great Comment on Palin

I love this from Josh Marshall:

MEDITATION FOR THE DAY

John McCain and his shrewd judge of character.

I also love how Sarah (Worthless) Palin referred to the troops, how they never give up, as she was quitting her job.

By the way, was she using a teleprompter?

And a second "by the way," nice vetting, Senator McCain! LOL!

Camping

I'd like to go camping. Too bad it's so much work.

I see campers and always think I'd like to do it (again, because I used to go camping, when I was a kid especially, but also as an adult.)

It's fun, being out by a lake somewhere, sitting there in a tent reading, or out walking the campground, or by the lake, or bike riding, or taking the dog for a walk.

But it is indeed a lot of work, meaning a lot of packing of stuff, then putting up your tent, etc. You need to take about a million things. But one time when I was a teenager I rode my bike out to a lake, took a tent, a space blanket, a box of Capt. Crunch (I think it might've been peanut butter flavored), and that was about it. I think that was it. I was there, I slept, I got up, had some dry cereal, and I believe I rode home. Maybe not the most interesting trip.

One of these days I'll probably write about my 2nd weirdest camping trip, during which, by a few terrible twists of fate, I ended up tearing the door handle off my car with a tire iron. True story.

The Sound of Sirens

I can hear the siren sound of a siren outside. Wonder where they're headed. Hope everyone's OK.

At the health club guys look at themselves in the mirror with reckless abandon.

The Vehicles of England

England is only known for one vehicle, the double decker bus.

They don't have cars, trucks, SUVs, just double decker buses. And maybe a few single decker buses. And perhaps a very few other decker buses.

Everyone's got one, which is why the English garages are the largest in the world.

A Brand New Month!

Well, we're on the verge of June coming to an end and July starting up.

That means I get to stay up till midnight tonight! Yea!

July 4th, that's the week I fought for my country and brought home the bacon. My own brand, "Declaration of Independence Bacon."

The Fat Crown Seller

I have a vast inventory of crowns for sale. And I am extremely fat. How did this happen?

You see, I eat a lot of Imperial margarine. And whenever I take a bite, I hear the flourish of a trumpet and a crown instantly appears on my head.

Taking off the crowns over the years meant finding something to do with them, which led to a lucrative sideline of sales. Beautiful crowns too.

I learned that if I take smaller bites, I can get smaller crowns. Therefore I've expanded my clientele to include dentists, crowns for teeth.

Pigmeat Markham on Sotomayor: Order in the courtroom, here come de judge.

Do be a do-bee, don't be a don't-bee.

Oyster Stew

Yesterday I did something mad that I periodically do, which is to eat oyster stew.

It always make me feel weird internally down in the abdominal region. And there's some kind of after effects up here too, in the head. It's not that pleasant.

It's great going down, but you should never overdo it. I used an entire can of oysters, which is 8 ounces.

Good stuff.

A Bird Takes Flight

I have friends in high places, birds.

I was walking down a ramp today ... and there was a bird at the end ... trapped, no way of escape ... at the other end a building, walls on the side of the ramp ...

I'm lumbering down toward it, very menacingly. I've got you in my clutches.

When ... the bird takes flight and escapes! How surprising.

Another was nearby when I pulled my car toward the garage ... I've got you now ... when, there it goes up over the roof.

Willipus Wallipus

I have an old record that's one of my favorites from childhood. It's from 1953 and broken. It has lots of surface noise.

It is the story of Willipus Wallipus and how he got in lots of trouble. This story has him releasing the brakes of a car and running into a chicken coop. He learns his lesson, I hope, that Mom and Dad know best.

The record is on Cricket Records. The label says "Sung by Cousin Cricket." It is record number C-42B. Sold by Pickwick Sales Corp., New York.

The flip side's label is almost all gone. It's title has the phrase "Could Not Swim" in it, probably someone "Who" Could Not Swim. Performers' names are missing except for Toni Waiman and an orchestra.

Tighten Up

Hi everybody. I'm D.B. Kundalini and the Drells, from Houston, Texas. And we not only sing, but we dance just as good as we want. And down in Houston this is the music we tighten up to.

Can you guess what record I'm listening to right now?

When a dog pees on the grass it says, What am I, a tree?

The Deadliest Catch

Is it just my imagination or is the show "The Deadliest Catch" the only thing on TV? I walk through my living room when the TV's on and there it is, some guys up around Alaska trying to catch King Crab. Constantly!

The waves are splashing up over the boat. Bon Jovi's singing "Wanted Dead or Alive" like it's number one on the charts. There's several boats and they're apparently competing to see who can bring in the most crab. These boatloads of men are out to sea for eight months at a time, making me more curious about some of the intimate details of their lives than anything else they actually show.

But anyway, those are details we're not meant to know. I'm sure it would be embarrassing to them. Although the imagination can't help but run wild and also into some very familiar guesses. Maybe that would indeed be "The Deadliest Catch," were we to find out, and were some of the wives back on shore to discover what's really going on out there. Or maybe not...

I worry about this show. These guys are having a hard enough time catching all the King Crab needed for the current demand. They're on the verge of death half the time. If the whole world is following their exploits, won't it make us want to buy even more King Crab just to support them, hence creating even more demand, hence making their lives even more hectic, and making the deadliest catch even deadlier? I'm afraid we'll be killing them with kindness.

Then they might end up staying out 12 months of every year, only making it home on the extra day in leap year. At which time they show up, their wives have two or three kids they didn't know about. But by now they're madly in love with each other anyway. So they all go out, the lovers from the boat, the ex-wives and their on-shore lovers, and have a big dinner. Of course they go out for seafood, and you can guess what they order.

Coffin/Toy Mashup

You've got a funeral and there they are at the cemetery. The chief pallbearer says, "If anyone objects to the burying of this body, let him speak now or forever hold his peace."

Someone speaks up, because we've all heard of criminal types burying rocks in a casket and then instigating successful crime sprees long after their supposed death.

"All right," one of the underling pallbearers says, pulling out a crank that's inset in the edge of the coffin. He starts turning it, and we all can hear the familiar strains of "Pop Goes The Weasel."

The music gets right to that well known moment of truth, then the coffin lid flips open and the person springs up. Instead of a normal body, there's a normal head and a paper body with a spring inside it, and the base of the body is connected intrinsically with the lining of the casket.

My Inner Piranha

I'm writing three (3) "inner piranha" posts today. But I'm not copying and pasting, nor am I memorizing what I wrote at the other blog. Since this is the second one, there's only one that's already written. After this one I still have one to go. There may be some duplication, because my doctrine of the inner piranha is not extremely detailed.

The last one I remember I started off saying "My inner piranha is a very tired fish tonight." So I'll vary that, change it up a bit ... and hope you enjoy what is about to follow. When I get all three I will come back and post the link to the other two, so that you, the person seeking to learn about the inner piranha can do so with greater ease.

My inner piranha, at times so full of life, tonight is one tired fish. It has been swimming all day, engaged in lots of hunting for decent meat to munch on.

I have depended on my inner piranha today to get several tasks done. I needed to have some true intensity in these tasks, yet I needed to come across as someone casual enough to go with the flow. The piranha knows the needs of my life and what we need to do to maintain a more or less healthy symbiotic relationship. I scratch his fins, he scratches mine.

But like I said, the fish is tired tonight. Because at some point, the varied and challenging tasks of the day took a lot of my energy. Meaning I depended on my inner piranha to do a lot of work -- guiding me and enlivening me -- and now I'm worn down. And unfortunately the fish didn't get a lot out of it. He needs his munching time too. He needs his sustenance.

Your inner piranha is like a force for good or a force for dissolution. Good for you, the organism needing his energy. But he needs energy too, and lacking a proper source, he gets the energy where he can, which might mean feeding on you. The inner piranha exists within the void of each of our cells. And if he turns on those cells, you can see there's not much future for you or it.

I should have taken better care of my inner piranha, but lately I've been saying Manana, piranha, and we can't keep going on like that. These challenges are going to become more challenging if I have to engage them without his energy. But I need to help replenish his energy, his essential drive.

Without that, I may die ... and he will die as well.

[UPDATE: The first of the three "inner piranha" posts is at Boy Leg. It is a shorter post than the second one above. The third is also longer, at dbkundalini.]

O papa, the Albuterol makes me so jittery!

I was at a nursing home and 'Love Shack' was playing loudly on the cable TV info channel. Seemed incongruous.

Swan

A swan just swam by me. I wasted some time trying to video it, which fails on my phone almost always.

It was doing more drinking and picking at stuff under the water than swimming. But some of each.

The Exalted Stuck Pig

KFC still refuses to put grilled chicken on the buffet. They guard it like gold.

The Trial

I'm rereading "The Trial" by Franz Kafka. It's been a couple years or more. This time I'm not trying to "figure it out" but just accept it as the conditions stated.

Also I'm reading it very much as a piece of humor, and there are some wonderfully funny things ... as I recall ... and as I have already well noted in reading the first few chapters today. (I don't want to accrue any guilt in saying that, so technically I read the first few chapters a little bit last night and the rest today.)

The part where K. is supposedly looking for a carpenter named Lanz, while actually looking for the place where his appointment with the inquiry is supposed to be, is hilarious. The people of the apartment building are so helpful, thinking they remember a carpenter named Lanz, etc.

I was watching the movie by Orson Welles. I think I've only made it through the entire thing once. The rest of the times I start watching it, get a certain distance, then something else comes up and I quit. The same thing is going to happen in a few minutes, because I got the new Three Stooges DVD set and want to watch some of it.

Plus, as good as the Welles' scenery and staging is, I hate having the imagery from it too fresh in my mind when reading the book. It's unavoidable at this point ... but I don't want to do anything more to encourage it happening.

Good night all. May you not wake up to officers in your room there to arrest you!

I saw a guy who looked like a high school friend, like he looked years ago.

I took a few charming photos. My camera failed at a couple very bad times.

At a very peaceful rural cemetery. The birds are very full of life. And the breeze.

Abhorring A Vacuum (Miscellaney)

The music business abhors a vacuum. The years I could've been a teenage idol (and wasn't), others came rushing into the vacuum to fill it. That was when we had a lesser bunch, Donny Osmond, Tony DeFranco, etc. It's just stunning that somehow the course of music history righted itself and found its natural course again.

By the time an idea makes it here, it has to qualify, endure several time trials. Maybe my standard is low, but it's still there.

In a hurry I accidentally put my underwear on backwards, but it's just for a few minutes while typing this. They are definitely sewn to go on only one way.

To bugs dew is a bucket of drinking water left at their door.

To bugs the lawnmower is a hurricane.

My Urban Imagination

The bus station I was in wasn't really an urban setting. It was a small city, but nothing like the bigger places, which I'm not at very often but have been there enough to know the difference.

Still it had some of the same characteristics, people passing quietly, looking around, sitting without looking at you, or sitting without speaking to you. I sat on the end of a bench on which there was another guy and he didn't note my existence and I didn't note his.

It gave me a taste of the whole urban thing, which is not that comfortable to me. But I'm walking along, going from the car across the street, then into the bus station. I can see my reflection and think I'm just melting in with the others. Check my wallet and checkbook to make sure pickpockets aren't at work.

I did my mobile texting to this blog -- which didn't work properly -- and turned at the end of the bench so that guy couldn't see what I was doing exactly.

Quiet In Crowds

I'm at a bus station. I'm very quiet in a crowd.

Garbage

I thought a bag of garbage might've been mine. I didn't see it in the street when I passed. But then there it was. I watched it get hit a few times and didn't recognize any of the guts that spilled out.

Old Building

I'm looking at an old building that's 10 stories tall, apparently vacant above the first floor. One window is just a board. I'd love to see what's in there. But that's not going to happen.

A Long Way From Home

Sometimes I feel like a fish out of water...a long, very long way from home. Catch the song allusion? You're standing there knowing you're on a completely different track.

The above paragraph was written on my phone. Via an email posting, testing it out. A couple things I don't like about it. One, there's no way to put a title on that I know of. Two, there's no quotation marks on my phone. Three, it put a couple extraneous @ signs in there and I had to manually edit them out. Four, it doesn't automatically flesh out my thought, which requires some extra writing.

Every once in a while, though, it's like that. Standing there with a group of people and knowing ... there's a vast difference here.

Every little whipstitch, phoning it in. Going to bed. Ate a big dinner and feel fat. Terrible way to go to bed! But at this point it can't be helped.

They Love Meat

I took my dog to a fancy restaurant.

She says to the waiter, "Could I see your meat menu, please?"

Chastity Bono

Chastity. Born a girl and now she's going to be a man.

It's weird that mistakes like this are made before we're born. But bureaucracy is the same the universe over. They lose your file or the proper orders are misplaced. We hope these things eventually are straightened out.

I Can Name That Mower

I can name that mower in three seconds.

I'm going for the direction of the sound first. East, south, west? Then the appearance of closeness, of pitch shifts.

Is it simply passing? Does it persist? Does it sound like it has a bagger or is exposed?

Billy Jack Meets Tarzan

I just had a good spree of thought/fantasy about the coming together of two great action heroes, Billy Jack and Tarzan.

At the time I really loved Billy Jack (the first movie) and of course Tarzan, swinging through the jungle doing a great Carol Burnett impression. We used to watch movies of Tarzan with these prolonged underwater fights, and it about destroyed my lungs watching him stay underwater for eight to 10 minutes at a time. But somehow he always survived.

Billy Jack was a survivor too. I'm sure if I saw that movie again it'd all come rushing back to me. Why exactly it appealed to me at the time I can't say. It was countercultural with a sense of still enforcing justice. The poor put upon kids had a hero who seemed to have mystical (Native American) powers and a mother figure to counsel them, the way I remember it.

Put Billy Jack and Tarzan in the jungle together, with Delores and Jane, and you've got all the action and justice you can handle. If Boy is kind of a hippie doing performance art downtown with a lot of his wayward teen friends, and there's a big Ape, like the Sheriff in Billy Jack, causing troubles, Billy could be out in a heat hutch somewhere meditating and Tarzan could be knitting stronger vines. Then they descend on the Ape and the ape people of the town and bring justice to the entire jungle. We wouldn't end it like Billy Jack, though, with him being led away. Instead it'd have a happy ending, like with him shipping out to some other locale, like to take on Fu Manchu and the yellow menace.

Hello to Tom Laughlin out there. During the '08 campaign I saw some things by him online, like he's a Renaissance man intellectual, which I would want to tamp down a bit instead of being so overt about it.

The first movie was a great one at the time!

Your Undercover Blogger

Be on the lookout for me around town, looking to report on the little incidences of life I see you engaged in.

You won't recognize me, really. My disguise is no disguise. Maybe I'm right in front of you in line, or behind you. You don't know.

I will tell what I hear, what I observe. And if you come across it online, perhaps at random, or perhaps directly by super cosmic guidance, you will wonder, Could this be about me? Then what will you wonder? Who was it? Could I ask to see the surveillance tape?

I don't have a notebook. I am not flashing a press pass. I'm just there, hidden in the best way, right in plain sight. But you won't grab me by the collar because you'll never know it's me.

Fat Cats And Cigars

Interesting ad theme and coincidence of placement on Daily Kos this morning!

The evil smiling fat cat corporate Man with his cigar and fancy suit. The guy on the right holding all the cash even had a bunch of money where his hankie should be. The guy on the left looks almost too young to be a seasoned enough fat cat to show up in ads. But they have to start somewhere.

Speaking of hankies in your suit, I haven't thought about that for years. When I was a kid we got our suits back from the cleaners and they had a piece of cardboard in the pocket with a tiny bit of hankie top stitched on it. So that's what we used for a hankie back then. For display purposes only!

Pregnant Man Gives Birth Again

This story has popped up again. I can't remember the details and don't feel like hitting the link. Whatever's going on he seems to be very fertile. See you in nine months!

An Old Defective Album

I ran across this album at a thrift store, still sealed. I was hoping it would have some "Party Song" lyrics like some of the other records I've had. Semi-racy stuff with lots of double entendres.

It didn't look overly promising in that regard, just going by the titles, such as "I Love You Waltz," "Old Grey Mare Polka," "Astronaut Polka," and "Turkey In The Straw," among others.

The only thing that suggested possibly some oo-la-la was the picture of the lady and the caption, "If I had my way, I would ? all day." With a question mark in there like that. But the caption relates to the first song, the "I Love You Waltz," in which they say "I love you" in various languages, English, Russian, and Polish.

You can see it's by Norm Dombrowski and the Happy Notes. Norm, the leader of the group, was also the drummer. They also had Ronald Gruna, trumpet and bass guitar; Irvin Kovalski, trumpet and guitar; John Hobson, bass guitar; Dave Wanta, concertina and guitar; and Bob Organiscak, sax and clarinet.

It's polka style music. I've only listened to the first couple of songs.

OK, I said this album was sealed, which is true. But when I opened it, it was defective. A little crumb of something stuck on the record and intrinsically part of the vinyl, either as it originally was or it's eaten in there after all these years. It might, might play through that section. I don't know.

It's something, though -- this album's been in someone's collection all these years, unopened, then ends up in a thrift store, and all these years it's had a secret flaw. Its imperfection -- its original sin -- has been exposed!

The record was put out by Gold Records, Stevens Point, Wisconsin.

Chasing Off Those Who Poop

I heard they wanted to allow dogs to run free at a lake somewhere, to chase off all the geese that otherwise wander the banks endlessly pooping and messing up the grass.

The big problem of course was that the dogs ended up pooping also. When meant a progression of ever bigger and badder animals, bobcats to chase away the dogs, wolves to chase away the bobcats, wild boars to chase away the wolves, tigers to chase away the wild boars, lions to chase away the tigers, etc. Because they're all pooping on the grass.

Just put up a fence or kill the geese.

I'm Gonna Be A Wheel Someday

I'm singing the Fats Domino song today, "I'm Gonna Be A Wheel Someday" -- I've got it stuck in my mind, which is weird because I haven't heard it for over two weeks.

I don't know all the words but it's theme, I think, is the fact that someday I'm gonna be a wheel and then I won't want you. That's the song. Boy meets girl. Girl loves boy. Boy becomes wheel. Boy dumps girl.

You can cry, cry, cry, cry, cry ... (and here's where I don't know the words, but I'm filling them in anyway, and maybe they're right) ... and sigh, sigh, sigh, sigh, sigh, but that's no way on earth to win my heart.

I was a garage sale two weeks ago yesterday and got a CD that has this song on it, "The Best of Fats Domino, Vol. 1 - My Blue Heaven" from the Legendary Masters series. And beyond that I was at a record store early to mid-May and got a 45 rpm record of the same song, Imperial 5606. On the record "someday" is two words. The flip side is "I Want To Walk You Home." (I want to walk you home, but if you wait till I'm a wheel, I'll give you a ride.)

Local Book Clubs

We need local book clubs like this, so many of them that there's one for any book you might be reading, or the well-preserved records of the last time there was an exhaustive group discussion on a particular book.

I'm thinking of lists and databases or big file cabinets and digital printouts speeding by with every conceivable date and day of the week. "We discussed 'Tarzan of the Apes' in 1915 and I remember it as a very good group."

Conan

I don't watch much late night TV since I go to bed at 9:30. I get up at 5:30, so if I get to sleep right away, which happens much of the time, that's close to eight hours a night. I found that I need about that much sleep to be semi well-adjusted during the day.

Now that I'm an early to bed guy, that means I don't get to see all the stuff I used to like to watch, like the Daily Show and Colbert. Fortunately I can see bits of those shows online. I barely ever watched Jay Leno or David Letterman, at least in the last 10 years, and certainly couldn't stay awake for Conan after that. I used to ages ago. (How come no one ever mentions The Gaseous Wiener, one of my favorite characters from Conan's show?)

Now that Conan is on the Tonight Show, this week being the first, I've watched the first three episodes on Hulu. They're pretty funny. I liked the "Tweets of the Week" stuff, with a very over the top gruff guy reading mundane Tweets from celebrities. I didn't like the "In the Year 3000" bit even though I used to like the "2000" routine from years ago. So I skipped through that.

As for Andy Richter, it'd be better if he was over on the couch. And Max Weinberg looks great. I remember in 1993 when Conan came on being amused that his bandleader was a drummer.

Picnic Weather

Out for a quickie picky tonight, a quick picnic, pickynicking with the best of them. My immediate family. And Colonel Sanders.

A little cool, no panic, no packnicking, picking our place and picking at some Colonel chicknick on my picnic.

We Grant Wishes

We grant wishes for terminally ill children.

Yeah, I don't care anything about that. Can you believe the junk calls we get? That moment of dead silence, then the operator calling you by name like she really wanted to talk to you.

Good grief, I'm not giving you money. But thanks for calling. Click.

My Plant

I've got a new plant that I'm caring for. Trying not to give it too much water or too little. And the same for sunshine and shade and being indoors. (Except yesterday I was too busy and forgot it, so it was inside all day.)

It's called Diamond Frost, which I'd never heard of. I read the tag in a little more detail after I had it home. And, I don't know much about plants, but it says something like it was developed by a particular company and that it's prohibited to propagate it. Does that mean what it sounds like to me? Is this thing natural or Frankenstein?

Prohibited to propagate it? I hope it doesn't take over and shoot spores everywhere that I can't control. I don't think I would've bought it if I knew it came with special rules. But I don't know anything about plants.

Now I have two things to care for, the dog and the plant. Well, the cats might constitute a third thing, speaking technically. Dog, meet your brother, Diamond Frost. Diamond Frost, meet your sister, Dog. Neither of you disturb the cats, please, so they won't need anything.

Amateur Sports

I was at the park and saw some kids playing that kind of ragtag basketball that kids play at parks. A lot of bad guarding, rough, uncontrolled dribbling, and reckless shots.

I was thinking, too bad a professional ref doesn't come swooping in, striped shirt and all, to call a few fouls and some traveling calls. That'd teach them to be such amateurs.

Then closer to home, some guys were playing amateur soccer, or some variation on the theme. And there goes a major kick, and the ball goes rolling down the street. So the game had to stop for a minute or so while one of the kids ran and got the ball.

There's some kids in this neighborhood who spend more time running in the street to get their ball than they actually do playing with it. I don't know why they don't switch directions and play parallel to the road instead of having it for a backdrop. But it must not have ever occurred to them. Nor must it have occurred to their parents that the more they run in the road to get the ball the more likely it'll be that we'll see a disaster.

Bugs

What is it with the millions of bugs that are all over the place? It's ridiculous, you can't walk in your yard without them coming up from the grass in such numbers that it's like a plague.

They make a beeline right for the face, too, and that's very bad. We get over winter with all the inconveniences of that, and then there has to be this. I think there was one or two days in the spring when everything was just right.

It's the Goldilocks way of doing things. It's either too hot, too cold, or just right. But there's always some inconvenience in the way before you get to it.

The Jews Are Too Far Ahead Of Us

...meaning they're too far ahead of the rest of us.

Figure, in their time it's the year 5769 (or maybe 5770, I don't know which.)

But for the rest of us it's 2009 (or maybe 2010, I don't know which). That means they're around 3760 years ahead of us.

Jews definitely have the advantage, being so far in the future.

I joke. But in all seriousness, how are we supposed to compete with that?

Queasiness

I've got it tonight. Morose, listless, energy dissipated, feeling of unease in the middle.

Yawning, eyes lazy, down in the mouth, perturbed, tired.

I took my dog to the park and felt this bad feeling, also scared of mosquitoes.

There was a police officer there, like a community rep guy who buzzes around keeping an eye on the activities. So naturally I kept my dog on the leash. Another guy didn't. The officer was talking to me, chit chat, and said he needed to go tell that guy he needed a leash for the dog.

There I stood, innocent.

Release Your Inner Piranha

The way to do anything that maybe takes a challenge is to go at it with instinct and intensity. Release your inner piranha. Making love, decimating an enemy (like in sports), train yourself to the end and chow down.

How to do anything involving a weapon, let's say, make it part of your hand. Like David and the rock he flung at Goliath. When it leaves your hand, it's still in your hand all the way to the giant's forehead. Inner Piranha, away!

Greenhouse

I went to a greenhouse today ... which might more accurately be called a greenhouseplex, since there were probably eight or 10 greenhouses in the complex.

Wow, that's a lot of potted plants. I felt like getting a job there. Less stress while digging in the pots. But I didn't figure I'd qualify, since I don't know anything about botany. I could've said people say I have a green thumb, except no one says that.

I was thinking, What a vast spread of plants. What's the chances of all of them ever selling? Then I had my eye on a particular plant, yet went on to wander around and browse. Later I came back thinking I would get that plant, and guess what, it was gone, and they guy said that was the last one. Hmm, of all the plants in this vast place, that one particular plant sold right out from under my nose.

Shredding Frustration

I've been shredding old papers, class papers, personal stuff from the last 25 years. It turned out that I had numerous boxes of stuff. So it was piling up as I was making my way through it.

But shredding, unless you have one of those semi truck shredders, is a tough business. The little bucket quickly fills up. And my particular shredder has something wrong with it, so it doesn't turn off between things being shredded. Also it works well for about 10 minutes then overheats and turns off.

I was down to the last box, a heaping box, on this last go-round, and it was slow going, with all the emptying and the overheating. It's enough to make me want to tear my hair out and shred it.

So when it came to the last half of the last box, I just started grabbing stuff that wasn't too personal -- and even some that was -- and was ripping it in half and fourths and putting it in a recycling bag. There's no Social Security numbers on any of it, I'm pretty sure, or other account numbers. Just old documents from my ever-lengthening past. If anyone feels the need to root through it and put them back together to read my business, I guess I'm willing to take that risk. There's nothing terribly interesting in there!

There was of course some old bank statements, car registrations, crap like that, which I set aside and shredded. The shredder appreciates a smaller load. I really need some humongous shredder, one that goes into a basket the size of a stand-up copier. And one that shreds with enough force to handle a stack an inch thick.

These dainty shredders you get at Walmart -- they're great for a few things, but they're terrible for the big job.

Taco John's Reverie

I was telling someone a story of my recent visit to Taco John's. I got there and noticed a dog with a saddle tied to the hitching post.

I was very happy and cried out, "The monkey's here!" I went in and bought him a taco.

My friend said, "That didn't happen, because Taco John's doesn't have hitching posts."

So that's the part of the story that made you not believe it?

Cruising Cruising

I can hear the subtle rumble of cars going by. Once in a while a noisier one goes by. Like I said, I can hear that.

Here's the weird thing about sound, hearing it. I read this somewhere. Sound comes at you in waves. OK, it's something like this. The source of the sound makes a noise, in this case the rumbling of an engine. That noise takes the form then of waves coming toward you. Another way to think of them is that they're vibrations.

Here's the scary part. If you can hear them hitting your ears, they're hitting your ears as those vibratory waves. That wasn't the scary part. Here it is: If you can hear them, the same waves are affecting your house. The door is hearing them, in a sense, that the vibration is hitting it and disturbing it, however subtly. The mirror. Your computer. Everything that is in the path of those waves.

It would get scarier if you lived close to a railroad track. The vibrations then could make things shift around on your shelf. Or worse, could, over time, loosen up the foundation of your house. Then some night a train is cruising by and the foundation, loosened up, gives way and the ceiling falls on you.

Then when your house collapses it makes a terrible crashing noise, which affects everyone around within earshot. It may make their house collapse too, then that one the next one, and on and on, till the whole world at last gives way.

Woof Woof Woof

A while ago I was hearing the persistent background noise coming from the windows of "Woof, woof, woof," a neighbor's dog. Then below that, or filtering around the edges of that noise, I could hear a deeper and more distant (at least 30 feet further) "Woof, woof, woof," as a second dog added his piece.

My own dog was sitting on the couch with me. And I glanced down and could tell she was hearing the same woofing noise, but it wasn't rousing her to reply in kind. It's one of those things that we get familiar with outside. She knows they're just woofing to be woofing and that her own joining in wouldn't accomplish anything.

But it was remarkable that she heard a closer noise, not animal, not human (probably was human), someone dragging something by, perhaps, and she woofed three times. I said shut up, she woofed again, I said shut up again, and after one more poorly phrased woof she shut up.

Clang Clang

There's a regular clanging outside, like someone might be pounding a post to play horseshoes at. But probably not.

Maybe it's just a kid who found a piece of metal and is hammering at it. It doesn't sound loud enough or authoritative enough to be workmen.

Although it does sound like what it would sound like if you were out there doing vandalism to a fire hydrant. But that never happens.

I'm always amazed at vandals. They pick on the stuff down here, normal stuff at our level. But even though a fire hydrant is at our level, no one ever does anything to those. It's because we've seen them so regularly in our lives that we don't even see them.

Fire hydrants are not subject to vandalism because of familiarity, flying below the radar.

Iron King

I've been watching the obscure Japanese series "Iron King" for the last however long it's been during my morning and evening exercises.

Gentaro has a weird way with women, hitting them, letting them be killed, putting them off, lying to them, etc. But he has one important mission, and that is protecting Japan against this endless procession of robots and terrorists. He can't be like Goro, his friend, a big softy ... except when he's the Iron King.

Yet for all of Gentaro's ambivalence in dealing with the opposite sex, they seemed drawn to him, much like they're drawn to Kramer, the lure of the wild, the kevorka.

Watching it tonight was nice, after the scam that American Idol is. It's good to have these shows where the good guy wins.

Music Is Getting Old

I got a couple Glenn Miller CDs the other day. I was looking at them, as well as listening just a little.

He did his main work between the years of 1939-1942. That's a pretty tight time frame, since that's a lot of hits -- I don't even know how many. I'm nothing like an expert on this stuff.

1939, though, that's 70 years ago. This stuff is getting old. But what I was listening to still sounds fresh -- the recordings. As far as the style, the great vocals, etc., it sounds like something from a different world. I love it.

I'm surprised there aren't more older people who talk about their love for music. I've noticed this just about forever, that they don't do a lot of comparing of tracks, albums, why they liked a particular thing. It doesn't seem like they feel like discussing such things.

Toothpaste Like Caulk

I've never heard of toothpaste going bad. Yes, maybe if it falls into a box, is taken to the attic, and sets there for 10 years, probably then it wouldn't be any good. But just setting on the counter in the bathroom for a couple months? I've never heard of that.

But it happened. We had some Colgate toothpaste, two tubes that we were using. We basically got one real low, then I don't know how it happened -- we were on a trip or something and took the fuller one, then we kept using it, to the neglect of the other. The other set there no more than a couple months, around that.

The fuller one, as these things happen, became the less full one in time and that left the less full one to now be the fuller one. I started to use the new fuller one and guess what, the toothpaste had hardened to the point that I had to squeeze it with all my might, then just to get a very firm chunk of toothpaste that fell off the toothbrush. It landed with a plop. I tried another one and got the same thing. I tried to use the second piece and it had difficulty in there. Meaning I had to take drastic measures and throw the whole thing away.

This stuff was like the caulk that you use to seal up your bathtub. Although I'm thinking it would not have sustained itself if used like actual caulk.

C'mon, Colgate. What are you putting in your toothpaste. Another couple months and I would have had "Chalk In A Tube"

From Walker To Walker

You know those things that people use who have a hard time getting around, a walker? The things with tennis balls?

I had to pick up one of those and move it today. Then with it still in hand, I opened a door to turn off a light and turned and bumped it with my legs. I crunched against it and was afraid I might trip, but I was OK.

I had a very bad thought that I could've gotten hurt by a walker and then I would need a walker.

Wow, A Free Calculator

I saw an AARP commercial for switching your car insurance. Call now and we'll give you a free calculator! [Cut to the shot of your basic 99 cent calculator.]

Is a calculator that huge of an inducement these days? What is this, 1974?

Agreed On Texts

I've been asked now twice in the last month and a half, "What are you reading?" The first time I said nothing. The second time, having been prepared for this from the first time, I said something about the poems of Sir Walter Scott, even though I've pretty much abdicated from reading them. I need to get back to them.

I was sitting in a chair today -- worried as usual -- and thinking I should read something. There was a book I was thinking of but I didn't know where it was. So I'm sitting there another 10 minutes and glancing around, the very book was four feet in front of me, almost hidden in a stack. So I read from it. It didn't help very much but a little. The thing is I know something about this, and the whole point of that particular text, if you went to the very heart of it, is that you don't really need texts. The real text is in here (tapping my empty head).

So I'm sitting here now tapping out another empty text. These paragraphs and the others I've written today, like at Grandma Slump. I like the entry over there because it picks up on this feeling of worrying and being down. But once you've written it and read it you think, OK, that's done. That helped for that minute but now it's just a thought that came from my own head. It's hard to be entertained by thoughts that come from your own head. One thing about it is that what the text is is a very selective part of the thoughts that come from your head, like .0001% of the thoughts you have all the time.

Who really can be entertained by themselves? It's like Frank Sinatra who said he never listened to his own records. And why should he? The voice was in his throat somewhere, lurking with him all the time. He didn't need a needle to remind him.

But there are these texts that get to us collectively. The Bible is the biggest, most obvious one. I think the Bible is fantastic, but it's a dangerous book because of what people have done with it. It's like it's intentionally dangerous and wouldn't pass OSHA standards if someone wrote it now. It has enough stories with jagged edges that it keeps us perpetually fascinated. That's probably one of the keys to writing an agreed on text. Don't round the edges. Leave it rough. So it appeals to everyone, from the Sunday School child with a white hankie to the biggest flaming, psycho, apocalyptic kook in the world.

Dog's Bathroom Habits

I am scientifically astir tonight over a very interesting subject that is fraught with mystery. Dogs taking their potty breaks.

Sometimes I take my dog outside in the yard .... and sometimes I take her to the park. If I take her in the yard her output -- 1 and 2 -- is at one level. But if I take her to the park it is generally twice that or more.

This leads to the obvious question. Are dogs just storing it up and still feeling comfortable while walking around inside? Doesn't it stand to reason that when you go out -- whether in the yard or at the park -- the output would have to be pretty much the same?

I need a good website to research this stuff at.

American Idol

Here's hoping that Adam Lambert pulls through OK tonight on the results show. I'm assuming he will. I'll be very upset if he doesn't.

But that means that one of these guys -- who both did pretty well -- Danny Gokey or Kris Allen -- has to be kicked out. I'm hoping it's Danny. Even though he's talented I've never warmed up to him.

Flip a coin, though, either one. Again, if it's Adam, the fur will fly. It better not be.

Possible Explanation

I was in a motel the other night, and morning was coming on. It was rainy and thunder was rumbling through the area. All at once there was one of the loudest cracks of thunder I've ever heard, like the lightning must have been within 100 feet.

I looked outside and was astonished to see an empty parking space next to my car. When I went to bed there was a truck there. But with that sudden lightning and enormous thunder, it was gone! That is powerful. My own car was undamaged, which is also remarkable.

Iron King

I saw an interesting looking series on DVD the other day and got it. Now I'm in the process of watching it. It's called "Iron King" and it's a Japanese series from 1972.

It's in the Godzilla family, then the Space Giants genre. Big robots tromping buildings and frantic Japanese running for their lives. It's got 26 episodes and four discs. My copy happens to have the DVD case nubs broken, so I don't know what caused that. Maybe the robots inside were agitating it too much.

I'm up to episode 4. So far the episodes are following a distinct pattern. There's a clan in Japan that's been scheming for 2000 years to get their revenge on the rest of society and to go into the ascendancy. They have ready many different kinds of robot monsters, mostly for the apparently impossible task of killing this one guy, one of the stars of the show, Gentaro. He's not Iron King, by the way. He seems to be simply a mortal, but one with all kinds of fighting ability.

Iron King is the giant/robot alter ego of Goro, a comic kind of guy who travels with Gentaro. Gentaro doesn't realize that Goro is Iron King. He appears when he's needed for the fight, by saying the words "Shock, Shock, Iron Shock" in English. His one downfall, very much a bummer, is that his body fluid -- water -- goes down like a dropped brick. So he can't fight very long till he's wiped out. Then when he becomes Goro again, a normal human being, he's parched and is going after water in an insane way. Gentaro hasn't figured this out yet but he knows all about Iron King's trouble with losing water.

The pattern is that they're traveling. The clan seeks to kill Gentaro. They send forth a robot. The robot fights, then recedes. They regather and attack again. I won't say what happens to the robot in each episode, but by the end of the episode the clan is preparing the next robot to try. Every stranger they meet is a member of this clan.

I like it so far.

The Purpose Of Flowers

I used to be a big romantic when it came to nature. I think I still am, to a certain extent, but this is one of those areas where any amount of learning you do decreases your romanticism by the same amount.

When you think things are just there for some innocent reason it's one thing. When you take a class or someone tells you the actual truth, you go, "Oh, really?" It changes your mindset. So if you want to be truly happy, stay as stupid as possible. But now that I think of it, maybe you can just forget what you've learned and insist on the innocent reasons.

One example. Why not believe that flowers are just there to make God smile? Or to keep bees from being depressed? Those are good things. Then you're out in nature and you see a bunch of flowers, you think, Oh, how nice, God is smiling. Or the bees in this area must be very well adjusted.

I had it pointed out to me that the purpose of flowers is simply to make more flowers. It's like the sex life of flowers -- doing whatever, however they do it. The pistil is hot for the bulb or something. They have a three way with a bee. I don't know. I think I might've had a botany class but I don't remember precisely. Had to dissect a tulip one time. The teacher stuck a pin in its stem to put it to sleep. Standing there one second, the pin goes in, it conked out. I could barely look.

Now whenever I see flowers I'm thinking they're just there to make more flowers. It's a depressing thought, because you want them to be prideful along the way, not so extremely goal-oriented.

Nostalgia

Maybe I'm in the mood for thinking of old times. I'm getting old enough to remember the past.

Once upon a time we had a nostalgia craze. We need a resurgence of nostalgia. Maybe we have it, we just don't call it that anymore. We have retro, throwback, and vintage.

Nostalgia fever hit the nation, I'm thinking around the year 1972. It was noted for Deco typefaces, something like the Broadway typeface that is on lots of computers. And a few others. It was a time -- maybe going along in some way with the "That's Entertainment" movies.

But I definitely remember seeing the word "nostalgia" back then all the time, a lot more than you see it now. Magazines covered it. Old movies were shown more often.

And, not coincidentally, that was when the whole "collectibles" and "collector's item" boom took off. Which led me to speak those immortal words, "If it's really a collector's item you don't need to put the phrase 'collector's item' on it. Collectors will know."

You may remember when Stevie Wonder's "Songs In The Key Of Life" album came out it had printed on the front "Collector's Album." I was at a flea market and this idiot dealer had records for sale. Let's say they were $1 each, just to make a point. This guy had the Stevie album like five or 10 times the price. I asked him why. He said because it was a "Collector's Album," since it said right on the front! I asked him why it was a collector's album and he said, "I don't know. Maybe he died or something."

Whatever Happened To Generic Stuff?

In the '70s there was a big boom in generic stuff, usually adorned with plain white packaging and plain black lettering. Cereal, pancake mix, I don't know about orange juice.

When it came to design, they definitely skimped on the cost. Maybe art and design expenses are where all the big expense is when it comes to products. I know I could use more of a stripped down approach when it comes to packaging electronics items, like battery rechargers. It's hard to get them opened.

But it seemed like as fast as generic-everything was on the market, within a couple years anyway, it was all gone. Then the closest thing to generic was the store brands. But even they don't just say "Raisin Bran" but come up with a name like "Always Save Raisin Bran."

I believe there was even a few records that did at least a take-off of the black/white generic craze. What they were, I don't know. Just plain old "Music," probably. Maybe someone out there has a large collection of generic packaging. It would've been a good idea. But I didn't think of it at the time. One thing, you don't expect it to go away.

Emergency TP

We've been having trouble keeping the bathrooms stocked with enough toilet paper. If you're downstairs, there's not any. Then if you're upstairs, there's not any. We buy a big thing of 24 rolls -- or you can get 12 double rolls. But then somehow they're not evenly distributed.

My big solution is to put a couple behind glass with a little hammer. Break glass in case of emergency. But then of course I need a little whisk broom and dustpan behind another glass case, to break in case there's broken glass in the area.

A Prescription

Our local pharmacy sells a lot of things besides just drugs, including now refilling printer cartridges, which seems like it'd be a great service. But as far as I'm concerned they have it overly complicated.

You expect it when you go in to refill your pills, they need to see the prescription. But does their policy on refilling printer cartridges really make any sense, that they need to see a prescription from a computer repairman?

They need to rethink this. There's something wrong there.

A Restaurant Museum

We were talking about a restaurant that was recently gutted, like either they went out of business or are remodeling, or they've given up their lease and the owner of the building is making it fresh for a new tenant.

One solution would be just to make a museum out of it. Like if it's a sandwich and chips kind of place, just leave all the furniture and food and packages and menus. Put up some velvet ropes and charge people to come in and look at it.

At first no one much would want to see it, but as times changed, and as restaurants evolved, they'd get that nostalgic feeling and want to see what it was like in the old days. If you have patience you can just wait it out ... and eventually make money.

The Last Of...

We've all heard of the Last of the Mohicans. But what if it was the Mesquakie tribe? The Last of the Mesqueakins?

Exercise And Tension

I'm thinking of going and exercising vigorously. I've been neglectful of my exercising duties, and that means that money I'm paying for the health club is being wasted.

But I have some tension, and was thinking I ought to go and do an hour -- an entire hour (unheard of) -- on the treadmill. That sounds like a very long time. But I just might do it. Don't push me. I might.

I have the time. I could do it. There's nothing standing in my way. Except the block in my mind saying, "Ugh!"

OK ... I'm going to hit the button to "Publish" this, then I'm going!

May Day!

Darn, yesterday I forgot my favorite-most joke in the whole wide world! Now I have to wait a whole 'nother year to play it again.

It was May 1st, right? OK, that's the set up. Heh heh. And here's the joke:

You call 911 and, all excited, you say, "May Day! May Day!"

Of course the emergency worker is all upset. "Please calm down, sir. What is wrong?"

And then you go all loose, "Nothing, just wanted to wish you a pleasant May Day."

[Don't really try this, because 911 calls are for emergencies only. Plus, the police will show up and you'll be spending the day after May Day in jail. This blog post is for entertainment purposes only ... blah blah blah ... insert sufficiently worded disclaimer here.]]

Handwriting Of The Dead

In my cleaning and digging into my old papers -- stuff from the basement -- I came across some old Christmas cards today in a box.

I was looking through them and noticed that several of them were from people who are no longer alive. I think of these cards differently than I did when they were alive. I wonder why.

It's like there's something of them left ... in just their signature. I'm not going to keep them, since I'm thinning things out. But since I'm digitizing this stuff, at least with a camera aimed at it, I'll have it on my hard drive until it quits working.

A little too sentimental, I know.