Texas Governor Rick Perry

How does a governor who takes a role in executing an innocent man, then covers it up, have any chance of being reelected? The people of Texas have some sense, don't they?

How does a governor who actually advocated that his state secede from the United States have any chance of being reelected? How can you be considered a patriotic American citizen if you don't want your state to be part of the United States?

Gov. Rick Perry is totally corrupt. He should pay the price for it. Electorally and legally.

Pebbles, Nibbles, Troubbles, And Abbilities

Perhaps I will say a few things. It's not habit forming, they say. And anyway, I can quit anytime I want.

I'll just check in, then I'll be gone. Must exercise some discipline lest I waste my whole day. That won't happen.

Speaking of discipline, I must not eat too much for lunch. That's a terrible thing. Then I get very tired.

But that's a bridge I'll cross when it floats by. Until then, I have this other struggle, my reluctance to get out of this chair.

It doesn't matter, ultimately, if I sit here an extra five minutes. Or maybe it does. If every pebble in a pond changes the earth's course.

I could've spent the last hour reading. I should've. But don't beat yourself up all the time. Good grief. "Could've, would've, should've."

The little pebbles I throw in the pond don't seem to change the earth that much. Maybe I'm not throwing them hard enough.

Technically how big can a pebble be? That might be the problem. I need bigger pebbles.

Boulder-sized pebbles. I could do some real damage with those. Get me one of those medieval catapults, fend off the sheriff and police.

They're going, "We can't stop this guy. He has a year's worth of boulders lined up." What about when he sleeps? "Oh, yeah, that might work."

I must not let it go that far ... I'll just sit here, dangling my feet in the water, playing with this toaster ... throwing pebbles.

The word "nibble" and the word "pebble" are similar. Is there something about "bble" that means small?

If there is, and you have small trouble, it'd be "troubble." But if it's major, leave out a B.

I'm "abble" to do a particular task, but my "abbilities" are limited. I'm "able" to do a particular task if my "abilities" are great.

The more B's you put in, that's the degree that you are "abbbbbbble" or "able" to get the job done.

So a tiny bite when you're fishing is a "nibbbbbbbbble" and a normal one is a "nibble."

A little bit of talk is "babble." Just a nibbling of babbling would need a few more B's.

There's an argument to be made for it.

Dog Poop Conjunctions And Coincidences

I feel I can attract more followers if I do a blessing over my ENTER key before sending every tweet. Bless you, dear words as you go. ENTER.

I faced a strange conjunction -- a dozen different coincidences -- involving my dog, neighbors, their dog, and my dog pooping that second.

If any one little thing had been different -- and there were a thousand variables -- it would've never happened. [Bless you, ENTER key.]

I saw the people coming from a block and a half away but didn't realize they were the neighbors, so I crossed the road, which I never do.

This put them coming from the block down, cutting across, and meeting me right at their corner. My dog pooped, then the dogs tangled.

My dog leash is tangled around the back of the woman's legs, I'm meeting the boyfriend in the dark for the first time. And the poop is lost.

There I am then, with a weak flashlight, and enough poop-colored leaves scattered around, making the perfect camouflage for poop.

The only good thing that came out of it...It's an ice breaker at parties? ...I'm looking at my dog. None of that had to happen. My fault.

I'm like The Who smashing their guitars and drums at the end of a concert. I smash my keyboard every night before bed. I have many new ones.

So here goes my keyboard. Goodnight. sadoi32 DKLJWE[ kk e P;DLGFMSDO kjfds dhp32rnl sfsdklsdk12130rgg3fkf03w2 kaput

Unwrapping Little Caramels

It's time consuming to unwrap these tiny little caramels. I need the discipline to make each one last, so I'm not unwrapping so many.

It's weird that you need to unwrap 100 little caramels to make caramel apples. They need to have one big chunk in plastic wrap instead.

Maybe that's what I should invent: "Grandma's Slump Massive One Chunk, Easy Unwrap Caramels," "Quality from our kitchen ... to your mouth."

Caramels are a dangerous thing to eat, though. Thanks to dental fillings. I keep chomping on them hoping I don't notice anything crunchy.

I remember we used to get some kind of chocolate caramels. But all Walgreens had was some weird brand, "Harvest Faire." Never heard of it.

By the way, it's "Walgreens" without an apostrophe. I was sitting there the other day thinking, That'd be a great bit of trivia to tweet.

Maybe not. It looks less interesting in print that it did in the grand sweeping majesty of the imagination I take with me on the road.

The History Channel

You would think a channel called the History Channel would try to restrict itself to facts of what's already happened.

I barely watch it -- not that I don't like it; as channels go it's fine -- but I've seen they have various conspiracy theory stuff on there, Nostradamus, etc.

I was just looking at an article on Mayan mythology, that somehow predicts a time of some significance in 2012. Of course with our apocalyptic heritage, that's being turned into another end of the world scenario.

And apparently the History Channel is getting in on the act.

From the Huffington Post:

Another History Channel program titled "Decoding the Past: Doomsday 2012: End of Days" says a galactic alignment or magnetic disturbances could somehow trigger a "pole shift."

"The entire mantle of the earth would shift in a matter of days, perhaps hours, changing the position of the north and south poles, causing worldwide disaster," a narrator proclaims. "Earthquakes would rock every continent, massive tsunamis would inundate coastal cities. It would be the ultimate planetary catastrophe."

Maybe they should stick to what's already happened and steer clear of these oddball predictions. When we're all still here in January 2013, they can look back on "history" and say they were wrong.

The Cave You Fear To Enter

Someone at Twitter posted this quote, which he attributes to Joseph Campbell:

The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek. ~ Joseph Campbell

That's a pretty good quote. I wonder why that would be, though, that the cave you fear to enter would hold the treasure you seek.

But if I think it's a pretty good quote, there must be something about it that resonates with me. It's not a recipe for ham and beans. There's something more there.

The treasure I'm seeking, I'm seeking everywhere. Maybe I'm doing more overturning of rocks than I should. I already basically know the treasure and where it is.

Right now I don't think I'm afraid to enter caves. Maybe I am. I don't want to enter any blind alleys.

President Obama Wins Nobel Peace Prize (Could've Been ME)

I was very happy to hear President Obama won the Nobel Peace Prize. To be perfectly honest, I didn't even know he was a candidate for it.

This is the way the election in '08 should've gone. Instead of nail biting for two years in advance, just wake up one day and it's over.

Winning the Nobel prize is like an eclipse. Some only happen every 500 years but they don't tell you about it till the day before.

I think one of those 500 year eclipses, they ought to tell you a couple years in advance so you can get a decent telescope.

Am I just supposed to have a fancy telescope in the garage on the off chance that the 500 years is about up?

Anyway. This was two extraordinary pieces of news before I was even awake. The Nobel prize and NASA shooting the moon.

May as well go back to bed. Nothing else can possibly happen.

The moon probe was called something like the CENTAUR 5000. They should have named it the ALICE KRAMDEN 1956.

As in "Pow, ZOOM."

So, congratulations on two fronts. To the Moon for being such a good sport. And to President Obama for skunking everyone else for the prize.

When you're a candidate for the PEACE PRIZE you have to be a good sport. You can't be blocking and tackling others who are in your way.

You have to have a Chip 'n' Dale attitude: "No, you first, I insist." --- "No, no, by all means, you lead the way."

As for myself, if I could be a candidate for the Peace Prize, I'd be very mellow in public, but clawing like a tiger behind the scenes.

They'd be saying, "Mr. Kundalini, you have prevailed." I'd be in my study, swishing a snifter of cognac, saying, "Exxxxcelllent...."

Say that 5 times fast, "Swishing a snifter."

I understand there's a cash prize that goes with it. Which of course I wouldn't be interested in having.

Severely Chilled And Sick Feeling

I ate too many chocolate chip cookies today. And I took a nap and tried to have another one with the remains of a Subway sandwich.

I got suddenly queasy, with a sore stomach. Nothing came of it, just a lethargic feeling of unease, like I was in a stupor.

Then I had to take the dog out and it's a moderately chilly evening. We got down the street and I had on my flimsy pants, even though I had on a winter coat. Suddenly I notice my legs getting chilled, then it hits me, that shaking.

I was going "Rrrruuuuhhh," that kind of uncomfortable growling sound you make when you want to be warm. The dog doesn't know about that, so she was getting uncomfortable. Had I suddenly turned into a werewolf?

We got inside and the dog was suspicious when I was trying to take off her halter, while I'm going "Rrrruuuuhhhh" and saying "Good girl." She pulls back. I had to reassure her.

I put a blanket on me and sat here in my winter coat for 20 minutes. Now I just have the blanket and feel closer to normal.

I Got My First Spam In Russian

I should've saved the message since it was so weird.

I don't know Russian but I can tell it's Russian when I see it, all the oddball letters.

I don't think I've ever gotten an email in Russian before. Let me search my mind. No, it's never happened.

But today was a first. So naturally I was curious. Not curious enough to click any links, but curious enough to run it through a Google translation place.

And it was Russian for some kind of adult picture place (or something). The translation looked so flawless. Not broken, weird English. So either that thing did a killer job of translating, or they run it through some kind of grammar thing as well.

That was my first Russian spam, and I hope it's my last.

The Class of '57

I'm listening to a very great old song by the Statler Brothers, "The Class of '57."

I'm a little more wistful about this song as time goes on and the various individuals named in this song are aging. Time marches on. "Tommy's selling used cars, Nancy's fixing hair." Tommy and Nancy are probably retired by now. Maybe dead.

But a lot of the class of '57 are still out there. My parents were from the class of '52, and my mom is still doing well. She's been doing some work in her town with the class records from the old school, photographs, etc. And she has something to do with my late father's classmates, keeping in touch, sort of.

We were out at the cemetery a week and a half ago, and I saw the grave of some classmates, friends of my parents. They have their picture engraved on the tombstone. They were from the class of '52, but this particular couple got married secretly in '51, and, according to mom, they would've been kicked out of school if they knew they were married. So good for them for keeping it a secret. But now it's on their tombstone -- their wedding date in '51 -- blaring it out to any school officials who might also be buried nearby.

I might've met this couple in my life but don't remember them personally. Just heard about them numerous times over the years, what they and my parents used to do, where they hung out.

So they were only five years older than the Class of '57.

If you're out there ... anyone from the Class of '57 .... (or '50, '51, '52, '53, '54, '55, '56, '58, '59) ... All the best to you! Keep going! And God bless you!

Letterman Apologizes To Wife

I just heard that David Letterman makes an in-studio, on-camera apology to his wife tonight. Ugh. Let it drop. Apologize to her at home. That's my opinion.

I don't want him just to be apologizing and milking this thing forever. It's not a savory thing.

In other opinions, I saw Letterman walking through a park or somewhere, surrounded by what I took to be staff. They were accompanying him, like Elvis and his hangers-on used to do. Is that what life is for David Letterman?

Lord, spare me from fame ... as you have done nicely so far!

Moon Mullican's Problem With Pork Chops

I got a record by Moon Mullican the other day and was just listening to it. "I'll Sail My Ship Alone / Seven Days to Rock," King 45-5172 from 1959.

I looked up the record, since "Seven Days to Rock" is pretty cool, a rockabilly song. This site says he had a problem with teen record buyers, since Moon was bald and portly.

But the sentence I love is this:

On New Year's Eve 1966, he resolved to cut down on pork chops but died the following day.

But look on the bright side. It couldn't have made that much difference if he was eating pork chops or not. At least it couldn't have made much difference if he would've cut down on them a week before.

Very Short Naps

I took a nap today that was very short. I set the alarm for around 35 minutes. And I didn't doze off at all till there was 15 minutes left. But then, I think, I did doze off. And was rudely awakened by a ring tone I wasn't expecting. My normal one must not be the default. But I got up and felt well rested.

Yesterday I took an even shorter nap. I surely must have dozed off for only a couple minutes. Because the dog was barking and someone was knocking at the door. And I know it was just minutes before, maybe 10 minutes, that I lay down.

Yet I woke up, answered the door, and felt rested enough for the rest of the day. Just one or two minutes of that confused stuff right before full sleep.

Frozen Head Allegedly Abused In Cryonics Facility

If you're ever going to have your severed head preserved in a cryonics facility -- for cryoning out loud -- make sure you pick one you can trust!

Who wants their frozen head being abused by a guy batting at it? Not me.

Such is the sad fate, it is alleged, of the famous baseball player, Ted Williams:

Johnson claims a technician took baseball-like swings at Williams' frozen head with a monkey wrench.

That's the strangest sentence I've read all day!

Dic Youngs Died

I don't know that Dic Youngs -- Youngsie, the Old Youngster -- was well known outside of central Iowa. But at least there, Des Moines and environs, he was a legendary disk jockey, and everyone knew him on KIOA.

He died.

As far as I was concerned, Dic was the voice of the rock 'n' roll in the '60s, since it was his channel that played the hits (along with KSO) and his voice and style was perfect for it. The perfect DJ voice.

Then later, before KIOA became strictly oldies, he had the Saturday Night Oldies Show, which was a throwback to the glory days. We used to listen to that too, faithfully, with Dic giving lots of shout outs to Des Moines businesses and people. Listening to the oldies was special. And the way he did it, with interviews, calling in favorites, Des Moines history, rock history, etc., it had a lot of texture.

He used to be at the state fair all the time. I talked to him a few times over the years. And saw him at a few concerts, music shows. I'm about 100% sure he was the guy in 1967 who was the DJ at the Monkees' concert.

Last time I heard him -- it's been a few years -- I was fairly far from Des Moines, and could just hear the channel fading in and fading out very badly. He was talking about a health problem he was having. I wondered how long he'd last.

Is Sarah Palin Really A Blithering Idiot?

Someone was pointing out that, in their opinion, Sarah Palin is "a blithering idiot."

But I'm really not sure. How much intelligence do you need to blither? Is she able to do it?

Bad Motel Policy

This isn't an actual motel policy. But I was thinking of the small print on the door of the motel. I was at a motel for a few days over the weekend. I was looking at the small print on the door.

One weird thing I noticed is they had the "room rate" at a figure over 3 times the actual room rate. Making me think there must be some kind of official reason they do that. Like they don't want to keep updating the door every time they might raise rates. And no one is going to complain if the rate on the door isn't the price they had to pay, since the stated price is outrageously high. Sounds like a good reason.

While I was there I felt very secure. Like I didn't think anyone was spying on us. But the thought occurred to me. I was thinking how they might state it in the small print: "The management of the motel reserves the right to monitor the activities of each room, whether by electronic means or otherwise." But I seriously didn't see any cameras.

It's a weird feeling being in a motel (to me). I'm thinking of all the foreign germs, i.e., ones that are foreign to my normal surroundings. I'm thinking of all the terrible things that might happen. It's a bad feeling.

Punch Drunk

Have you ever been punch drunk? I'm sure I haven't been.

We hear of people spiking the punch. Which would be to pour something from a flask into it on the sly. I guess I hang out with a better crowd usually.

Other punches. Punch your ticket. That's the way we did lunch tickets when I was a kid. Get it punched. Now they probably scan a card like a debit card. The puncher manufacturer must've taken that like a punch to the gut.

A punch to the gut is a punch that might be hard to take. How about a left punch? From out of nowhere. A haymaker.

Punch the clock. I used to punch the clock. I got a job at a place and they had a big wall of places to put your punch card. I had the very last, literally the last possible slot next to the door. There were hundreds. I was 1600.

It's been a while. So I forget. But after me, they either moved to another wall or they had to fire a few people with numbers ahead of mine.

Don't forget to punch out or you might be one of the ones fired.

A Punctuation Test

Here's an interesting punctuation test.

I missed two.

I guess I'm fairly good at commas, quotation marks, parentheses, and the other stuff. But not perfect, obviously.

I should've done better. Because I've always been very punctual.

Eating At The Chinese Place

It's a good place to eat, a Chinese restaurant. One, you get plenty of options, since they always have a buffet.

We were there a couple days ago, eating out with some friends who invited us. I like all the ways they make chicken. Some with sauce, some buffalo wings, some regular wings, some that's an entirely different color, etc.

I load up on a few things ... then most things I don't take any of.

The stuff at a Chinese restaurant that doesn't always look as appealing as it should are the deserts. They don't seem to have a good sense of what a decent desert should like like. Maybe having those clam shells sitting there (they didn't have when we were there) takes away the appeal of everything around them. But even the little cakes don't look all that appetizing.

Anyway, for the most part we enjoy our excursions out ... to the exotic confines of the Chinese restaurant.

Tea A Luxury

I saw a catalog for a tea merchant a couple days ago. But it was a catalog from 2007 so I didn't pick it up. I figured, look up their website, which I did.

It sounds great, the whole concept of tea. Drinking it. Savoring it. Which I do.

Yesterday I had this in mind. So when I got up I went and made a couple cups of tea ... one for now, one for a little later. Green tea. It's pretty good. Not a lot of taste to it, but you hear it has benefits.

After a while, I don't know why, I felt a little queasy. But I was OK for the most part.

Tea usually is one of those things that seems good for you. I hope it is. The catalog was from a place called teasource.com. I visited that site. I'm not promoting it. I don't have any financial or personal connection to it.

They had a slogan in the catalog that was something like "The most economical luxury." It had something to do with tea being a luxury, yet not being expensive like most luxuries. That's a great selling point.

But you can get plenty of decent tea just at the grocery store without ordering it. But I suppose if you want something wildly exotic, you need to check around.

The Tattoo Guy

When I get a free minute, which I haven't had yet today, I'm trying to read "The Lost Symbol," by Dan Brown.

I'm up a little ways, barely started really. But there's one character who really seems to have a bizarre description. In that he's tattooed, every inch of his body except for a little crown on the top of his head. I guess that's where the "Lost Symbol" goes. So that whenever the supernatural looks down it'll eventually see him coming. I don't know.

His name is "Mal'akh." What that means precisely, I also don't know. Mal usually means bad. Like Malfoy in Harry Potter. Or malfeasance.

Sometimes I get a "Mal'akh," a bad cough.

A Old Friend I Did Contact

Yesterday I wrote about "An Old Friend I'm Not Going To Contact."

Well, it turned out I changed my mind. I contacted her. Almost 20 years later. And she remembered me, etc., and seemed glad that I wrote to her on Facebook. Now we're friends there. More about that below.

I got to thinking, Why remain silent? Everyone's getting older. We were always on good terms, even though we only knew each other two years. It wouldn't hurt to say Hello. Just touch base, etc.

So I couldn't stand it and said Hello. She wrote me a nice note back and said she'd like to be "friends" on Facebook, so now we are.

Anyway. I changed my mind. And it worked out OK!

Tom Delay Dancing

I don't watch "Dancing With The Stars" and I'm not going to start now, with Tom Delay on it.

I see there's links to it all over the blogs today, but I'm not watching any of them. The last thing I want to see is Tom Delay.

It's bad enough just seeing the still photos, of this creep pointing at the audience, looking like the rat that he is.

Basically it comes down to this, if I want to see a turd spinning, I'll flush the toilet.

An Old Friend I'm Not Going To Contact

I just saw an old friend on Facebook. I decided to search for her name. There was one of her. And it was her. I worked with her from around 1988-1990, a couple years back then. In fact she was the supervisor of me, but we worked in a collegial way.

But I'm not going to contact her. Just because you knew someone doesn't mean there's any reason to make contact now. We don't have anything in common except that, and I quote her occasionally, some little phrase she used to say all the time.

It's interesting to see she got remarried, since she mentions the grandchildren they have between them. I suppose they don't have to be married precisely, but that's the way I take it.

Anyway, interesting to see her picture, that she's still alive, still in the same vicinity where I knew her, etc. But that's it.

Good Food, Good Friends, Good Fun

Who wouldn't like that?

Obama A Boor? No!

Peggy Noonan, who always seems like she's a bit uptight -- like she's half lost in her own thoughts about her brilliance -- reportedly called President Obama a "boor" or "boorish."

How did he get this terrible dis? Because he's making the circuit, talking up his health care plan, etc. That's all it takes? (Wow, I wonder what she said about President Bush when he was constantly in our face about "the terr'ists" and destroying Social Security. She probably thought that was the height of refinement.)

As I recall, though, President Obama campaigned on the idea that he was going to reform the health care system. And, whether snooty Peggy likes it or not, it seems like it'd be very irresponsible to not at least be making a credible effort to get it accomplished. The fact is, the Congress has been obstinate, to say the least, and the Republican opposition, in particular, has been, dare I say it?, boorish.

I know what boorish means. The Daily Kos diarist gave one official definition as "a rude, awkward, or ill-mannered person." Peggy thinks the president is that? He seems like one of the nicest guys on the planet! He's definitely nice to the Republicans, bending over backwards because of their many demands.

I think he probably should be a little more rude to the Republicans. But he's not rude now or ill-mannered, and he's certainly not awkward.

What a strange thing for Peggy to say. Or maybe not. We know her. The Democrats can do no right, the Republicans no wrong.

Charles Laughton Records

I got a copy of this record at a garage sale today, 50 big cents for a nice double LP, Capitol Records, 1962, Charles Laughton, "The Story-Teller...A Session With Charles Laughton."

It was in very nice condition, as spoken word records tend to be.

It's catalog number is TBO 1650.

What a nice album. I actually listened to the whole thing. You might not think a guy reading from books on stage would be that interesting, but it held my attention.

It seems significant that he reads from "The Dharma Bums" by Jack Kerouac. Even though I was alive in 1962, my tastes in literature at the time ran more toward Popeye and Olive Oyl. I hadn't heard of anything else. So I don't know precisely what they were saying about Kerouac in '62. But Laughton seems like he's breaking the folks in, mentioning that Kerouac has been called a beatnik, but he attributes to him the same Spirit that moved in the builders and patrons of the Chartres Cathedral and the writer of Psalm 104.

He tells a nice story about Chartres Cathedral, how he met a guy there who knew all about it, the ins and outs. And how they shared so many special moments looking at the stained glass at various times of the day. Then how they got together 25 years later, and the guy was like, "Where you been for 25 years?"

Side 2 is a reading from "Julius Caesar" by Shakespeare. It's the scene where Brutus gives an address to the people, to be followed by Mark Antony. So we get to hear, with Laughton's superb reading, how Antony turns the people's opinion of Brutus and the other "honorable men."

Side 3 features a reading from "Major Barbara" by Shaw and a reading from Plato's "The Phaedrus." The latter piece touches on "sex," and it's cute to hear the audience tittering. Good thing Beavis and Butt-head weren't there.

Side 4 gives the story from the Bible's book of Daniel of "The Fiery Furnace." Laughton pronounces Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego over and over, as the text speaks of them frequently by name. It's an excellent reading. I was looking along in the Bible, and also with "Julius Caesar," and Laughton leaves out some bits, probably to move it along.

The side continues with a letter from an artist about God and prayer to school children, the artist being Carl Milles. Then the last cut is a cute story called "Waculla Springs Story," of an old guy in Florida who tricks the tourists into thinking he can tell fish what to do. At first it seems like he has them trained to jump, to swim in formation, and an alligator to launch out from the shore on command. But Laughton, fascinated, keeps coming on the guy's boat excursion and finds out the tricks. He explains to the man that he, too, is "a story-teller."

Laughton seems like a very charming person. Very smart.

September 18, 1973

September 18 is always a day I think of when it rolls around.

One time, in 1973, I was going through some of the work of moving us into an apartment, student housing somewhere.

I had to walk/run part of the way, because the housing office was some distance from the actual apartment complex. But it was right at the edge of town.

So there I was on that day. And I checked this out on a moon calendar place a few years ago just to verify it. The moon was up in the western sky. Why I remember that particular day, I don't know.

Every year as far as I can recall I think of this. There was something significant about that day ... and the moon.

Our Daily Death Watch: Mary Travers

People, quit dying! It's getting ridiculous.

But it's happened again. Peter, Paul, and Mary.

I've got some of the tracks from their "Ten Years Together" CD playing.

Everyone's got to go. Me too. Just hate to see it.

A Good 5 Cent Cup Of Tea

What this country needs is something that costs 5 cents. I haven't priced cigars lately but I believe they're quite a bit higher. And I know a cup of coffee, except at some interstate gas stations trying to lure you in for a quarter a cup, is at least a dollar. Of course it's more at trendier places.

What there is that I can think of that could be offered at a nickel a cup is tea. Sometimes you can get 100 teabags at the grocery store for right at a dollar or just over. So if your overhead in your tea supply, at retail, is right around penny per teabag, that's very cheap. And think, a restaurant could probably get them cheaper wholesale.

So a place could very reasonably offer an actual 5 cent cup of tea and still make money. Especially if you paired it with bagels, which could be a dollar or more.

It irks me to go to a place and have iced tea at $1.50 or $2.00 or more. They're making a killing. It's like popcorn at the theater.

How Many Flu Shots Are Too Many?

Maybe WebMD would have information on this. I was wondering how many flu shots would be too many.

Like say you were some mentally disturbed person who got a flu shot, then you liked the friendly nurse so you went back and got another, then you liked her even more so you went back for another. And so forth. Or you decided to go to each drug store in town, then to each clinic, until you'd had about 20 flu shots.

Would it kill you? What would happen?

Since it's some kind of egg bacteria -- they ask you if you're allergic to chicken feathers -- maybe you'd turn into Chickenman ("He's everywhere, he's everywhere.")

I myself hate shots, even though this wasn't painful, my shot this morning. (My arm hurts a little bit this evening but nothing terrible.) But there's no way I would get more shots than were absolutely necessary. So I'm not going to know what would happen personally. It's just something I was wondering about.

It didn't seem like they were entering the info into a computer. And they didn't ask for ID. So a mentally disturbed guy could tell them 20 different names if he wanted.

Worked Up A Tabasco Sweat

I was scratching my head and noticed I've got a sweat going.

I just got done eating some meat with Tabasco sauce all over it. To me that's a taste delicacy. If I can't taste anything except the Tabasco sauce.

The other day I had it and my mouth was actually hot. I needed to drink some extra water. Usually it doesn't bother me but it did the other day.

Today it didn't bother me. I'm fine. But it makes my nose run and my face is perspiring. Including the top of my head.

The other day I looked in the mirror and my face was actually red. So that's some weird corpuscle action going on.

I have the theory that Tabasco sauce is good for you. That it kills something. You know, whatever. I'm not a doctor. Just a theorist.

Walmart's Free Eyeglasses Cleaner

I'm getting low on cleaner for my glasses. I got the little bottle of it at Walmart. They have an interesting policy on this. If you buy it once, you can keep bringing in the bottle and they'll refill it for free. I think we might be on about the fourth or fifth filling.

Why do they give it away for nothing? I have no idea. But I notice they haven't extended that policy to other things. Which would definitely help me save money if they did. Like cat food. You could bring in your old cat food cans and they'd refill them. Toothpaste tubes. Shampoo bottles. Floss dispensers. "I'm here for my free refill."

Ringo Starr For President

Remember when Ringo was our candidate for president in 1964? I remember seeing "Ringo For President" posters, at least in magazines.

Now, these days, for some reason I don't know precisely, Ringo is getting dissed.

Simon Cowell in the last few days said something against him. Well, here's what I think of you, Simon Cowell [making obscene Italian arm gestures in his general direction.] Just kidding. But, really, keep your mouth shut.

Ringo Starr was excellent in The Beatles. They could've had some other drummer. But it would've never been the same. He had personality, character, looks, humor, acting ability, interesting singing, the whole package. What a beautiful looking guy, really!

I used to look at my Beatles' records all the time and was always impressed by Ringo's cool looks. Like his very shaggy hair on "The Beatles' Second Album." That looked cool to me in 1964 and it looks cool to me now. I love the way you can see it sticking out in back.

Ringo was excellent in every way, in my opinion. He deserves all the respect in the world.

P.S. - That was very creative of Capitol Records, wasn't it? A title like "The Beatles' Second Album." It could've been "Meet The Beatles - Vol. 2." At least with "Something New" they didn't go for "The Beatles' Third Album." Chicago went that route, of course, but didn't they use Roman numerals?

If You Want To Lose 350 Followers A Day

1. Ask everyone to please quit following you. Tell them if they don't, you're going to annoy them to death.

2. Start the annoying even before they have a chance to quit. Tweet such things as "Come see my naughty profile," or let them know you have the secrets to getting rich quick.

3. For those seeking to be inspired, cuss out everyone's old favorites, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Gandhi, Eleanor Roosevelt, Thomas Jefferson, and, of course, Mother Teresa.

4. Just type random words or meaningless phrases. Keep them short so it's obvious it's just worthless.

5. Describe your body parts in the lewdest terms and what you're doing with them.

6. Be prolific.

People I'll Know Someday

Sometimes I think about the people I'll know someday. Like what they're doing right now.

Now I'm old. But when I was young I used to think about the people I'd know someday. And now someday is here. I used to think someday I'll know or be working with people who aren't even born yet. And that has happened. I work with someone who wasn't even born when I was turning 30.

As for the people I'll still meet someday, depending on how long I live, of course, there are likely some that still aren't born. Maybe they're being spanked by a doctor and crying right this minute. Then someday, say I'm an 80 year old greeter at Walmart, he or she might be my young boss and fire me for not being friendly enough.

Or it could be they'll befriend me in a nursing home. We'll go walking by the lake. They'll write a book about our encounters, called "Tuesdays with D.B. Kundalini." Actually I've never met a young person yet who cares anything about encountering me or probing my memories. I've never met an older person either. Everyone's got their own concerns.

As for the people I'll meet someday who are already born ... some are younger than I, some are older. The older ones I can picture, sort of. I know their general look. There's probably a few who are very vital right now, but by the time I meet them they'll be decrepit. Then other people will be saying, "You should've known ____ 10 years ago. He was quite a guy." And I'll say, "I wish I would have."

OK, it's 10 years from then right now. And I can't know that guy. But at least I'm thinking of him.

Beatles Day

I wonder how it went for 09-09-09 as it related to The Beatles.

It was very uneventful for me, since I bought the sets of CDs on Amazon ... and I have the pleasure of waiting till they get here. Apparently it's supposed to be tomorrow.

But I'm still glad I put my order in early and that they're on the way. Because according to articles I was reading, the supplies were very very limited at stores. Then I'd be sitting here with nothing today ... and tomorrow.

Come on. It's The Beatles. Sitting here with nothing is not an option.

A Great Slogan For Microsoft

I don't know if any other company has registered this as a trademarked slogan, but if not, it'd be a great one for Microsoft:

Microsoft -- "One Miserable Problem After Another"

That's the way it's going, trying to do Windows updates on my office computer. But definitely by the time it gets done, if it ever does, my hard drive will be ground down to size. A lot of sitting and spinning!

The Day You Were Born

Is anyone as sick to death of the various Facebook activities as I am?

Here's one that's a new low. "What does your day of birth say about you?" Example, if you were born on a Friday, what personality traits do you have based on that single fact?

So what are we saying? There's only seven categories of personality traits? Because, unless I'm off in my calculations, there's only seven days in every week.

One of my "friends" wasted her time taking this important test. And since she was indeed born on a Friday, here's what is true of her:

- Wise and humble.
- Inspiring character.
- Creative bent of mind.
- Fun to be with.
- Loyal lover.
- Good looker and great dresser.

Why precisely any of this would be true because she was born on a Friday, I don't have a clue.

Labor Day Leaves

Labor Day isn't good news for summer lovers. It means "Last Chance." Do your last summer flings today because tomorrow is too late.

The great sleep for flowers and trees is at hand. I have the plant I bought at the greenhouse when summer was just coming on. Those were optimistic days. Stems were flexible. Blooms were bold. Grass was green. The plant became three times as big as it originally was. I repotted it midway through. It'll need to come in.

It'll be nice to see the leaves come down, since there's a great beauty in that. I love the crunch underfoot and the noise they make swirling against the house. Or fences. Or down the road. That's an interesting sight, to see leaves going straight down the road with the wind.

I always have the best of intentions for fall. And I do again this year. It's a great time to make resolutions of things you're going to do, mostly to enjoy it. Such as bundle up and go sit by a fence somewhere, a gnarly fence, let's say, one with an old wooden post.

I plan to pick up handfuls of leaves and examine them. Then let them go wherever they want.

Sand Animation - You Tube

This is an amazing video. Kseniya Simonova - Sand Animation from Ukraine's Got Talent.

It's a little over eight minutes and I watched the whole thing. I'm not big on watching videos, especially anything that long. But this one was beautiful the whole way through.

Chuck E. Cheese

The other day we went out to eat ... [in disappointed voice], The Olive Garden.

But we could've gone to Chuck E. Cheese! [Yea!!!!]

We went there one time. What a freaky experience. Ha ha.

He Got His Finger Bit Off?

Oh no, remind me not to go to any public health care events. People are packing guns, fighting, and now some guy got his finger bit off.

Look up the names if you're interested in the details. But the way I remember it, the guy who did the biting was a pro-health care reform supporter and the guy who was bit was anti. The news accounts said, ironically, that the guy who got bit has his medical coverage through Medicare. So the next time the Fickle Finger of Fate points at you, perhaps don't be caught biting the finger that's paying your bills.

One other detail I saw, the anti guy threw the first punch. But only the guy who did the biting will be charged. Maybe if he spits the finger out they'll let him go. Or when it passes they can fish it out of the water.

It's no laughing matter. At least it wouldn't be if it were my hand involved. But I stay home, especially when crazy mobs are in evidence.

(We want to see a match between the biter and Mike Tyson.)

What Prompts Pat Buchanan To Do This?

Defending Hitler?

Is Pat Buchanan simply tone deaf, insane, perverse, what?

He's the same clown who a few years ago said we shouldn't have fought in World War II. It just makes you wonder what makes some people tick.

It's stunning.

Walking Around Barnes & Noble

I was walking around Barnes & Noble bookstore today. I love seeing all the books, but they are so many and, to my way of thinking, they're expensive, so I ended up not getting one.

I wanted to get this one by Manly Hall, who I've heard of but never have had anything by. He did some big book on the various esoteric traditions of the world, published 1928. I would've gotten it but the spine had the start of a split, just the start, which would have consummated the whole thing within a year anyway.

Since people can sit there and read the books all day in their easy chairs, they ought to call it a used book store. Because this book was definitely used to that extent. And I saw another book that was split right through. Meaning you open it and it falls open to a spot in the middle.

I'll be ordering it ... and I hope there's no one sitting around Amazon.com reading their copy to death.

Raising The Threat Level Against Tom Ridge

Does anyone know the nature of the threat against Tom Ridge? Did they threaten to castrate him? Does anyone know?

The way he announced he'd raised the terror alert because of politics, then the way he's feverishly backpedaled ever since, lets us know something's up.

He's surely still got 'em, OK, because if not, we're sure he'd be free to speak his mind. And his voice doesn't sound that much different than usual. But if anyone belongs to the same fitness club as Tom Ridge, or if you're, say, his wife, could you take a peek while he's showering and let us know?

We're pretty sure everything still has to be intact. And as long as he plays ball, he'll have something to play with.

But we think the threat level against Tom Ridge is high enough -- and all politics aside -- we're raising it to RED.

Stood In Line Twice Tonight

We went out to eat, but it required two separate places and two separating standings in line.

I hate that. There was one road, though, where we turn. And usually (always) there's cars coming from both sides and we get to wait, wait, wait. But tonight for some unknown reason there wasn't anyone coming! I said it was so nice we should drive around the block and see if it happens again. But we didn't.

So we went to the one restaurant (Mexican). And they were just making fresh (chicken), so would I mind waiting an extra six minutes? No, OK...Then some guy who came in three minutes after I did was out the door ahead of me. No kidding.

Then we went to the other restaurant. And they seemed busy. A few orders were up. A guy ahead of me didn't realize he could press on ahead. He was looking at the menu. It was all the same, though. We weren't going to be waited on any sooner if he pressed ahead.

Finally, all the restaurant waiting out of the way, we went home with the takeout and were able to eat. How delicious!

Harry Potter On Blu-Ray

We got the first five Harry Potter films on Blu-Ray.

I'm not a big fan. I've seen each movie one time, at the theater. But I was watching part of the first one on Blu-Ray and it looked really good. It looked better than it did at the theater, in fact. Which might be because I normally sit way too close -- the first row back then -- and have a hard time focusing on anything.

With the big TV and the crystal clear picture, it's quite enjoyable. So I saw part of the beginning, way up in fact to the time they're being sorted by the sorting hat and then going to their rooms. Then I stopped. And the next part I saw was toward the end, facing Professor somebody who is a host for the parasitic Voldemort, and Harry has to face him, blah blah blah.

Like I said, I only saw it one time. And I didn't remember any of this last part.

So it might be worth my while, assuming I have enough free time, to watch all these on Blu-Ray. I could do it. I don't know how but I think I could. I'm not good at sitting watching TV for prolonged periods of time.

Hermione is sure cute.

Kickbacks Miscellaneous

Don't kick against the pricks, they kick back. Some take kickbacks. No getyabacksies. No kickyasbacksies.

I've had the song "In The Navy" in my head today, with various lyrics. One was to sing about a local doctor, whose name I will replace with some generic name with the right number of syllables:

Doctor Robertson,
You can tell him how you feel.
Doctor Robertson,
You will get a better deal.
Doctor Robertson,
There's no charge if you don't heal.
Doctor Robertson, Doctor Robertson.

You Might Be A Bad Pastor If...

The Secret Service interviewed that idiotic pastor who gave a sermon in his church (!) on "Why I Hate Barack Obama" and prayed that Mr. Obama would die and go to hell.

It also turns out that the guy who showed up at the president's event in Arizona the other day with a gun goes to this pastor's church. So I'd say, if you're looking for a church, it pays to check around!

Apologies to Jeff Foxworthy, but here goes:

You might be a bad pastor if the Secret Service has to interview you for seeking the death of the President of the United States.

This guy is a couple testaments short of a full Bible.

Republicans' Current and Future Idiocracy

This is too weird. We have terrible climate change forecasts for the breadbasket states, and we have senators in those areas who will not vote to do anything about it.

Let's say it gets extremely hot. And the plants all start dying. We can always give them Brawndo, with electrolytes, which plants crave. Like in the movie, we also have idiots leading us.

This article says Kansas will be most ravaged by climate change. But the two Republican senators there are unlikely to support legislation concerning it. Sam Brownback and Pat Roberts. You think you have a Brownback now, just wait till the average temperature is 110!

So obviously they're morons.

In Nebraska we have Democrat-in-name-only Ben Nelson. Nelson earlier signed a letter calling for climate legislation to be put off. (Have we ever mentioned that Ben Nelson is worthless?) And the other senator is Mike Johanns, who apparently is also behind on the issue.

These are the places that are going to be most affected, mind you.

Then Iowa stands to face the third worst catastrophe. Republican Charles Grassley represents Iowa, and his vote is always right down the line with Rush Limbaugh and the other radicals. These people don't care about the country, just how they can stick it to President Obama in the heat of the moment. And with their "leadership," the country will have plenty of heat.

It's kind of like in the first episode of Superman, where Krypton is erupting all over the place. Superman's dad is the only scientist to say, "Hey, Krypton is erupting all over the place. Maybe we ought to do something about it." To which the other scientists scoff, saying, "Jor-el, you're mad! Krypton erupting all over the place? Don't be silly. That's just the people upstairs with their loud parties."

When you're watching it you think, no one could be as crazy as these guys! But bring it down to real life and the Republicans: Yes, you can be that crazy!

Not One Second Of TV Today

I didn't see even one second of the Kennedy coverage today, which I know was probably wall to wall.

I don't usually watch much TV news -- since I think the commentators for the most part are a bunch of ignorant losers -- but I make a special point of avoiding it when there's a high level death. That I really hate.

So I wonder what I missed. My guess, nothing.

Live Tweeting: "Nancy Wilson -- Gentle Is My Love"

NANCY WILSON - I will be Live Tweeting the LP "Gentle Is My Love" by Nancy Wilson. It's Capitol Stereo (ST 2351), two sides of course...

I just got this record today at Goodwill. I looked at it last night and didn't get it. I didn't have any money but I could've borrowed some.

It seemed like it looked a little scratchy but nothing terrible. Anyway I put it back, then went back today expecting it to still be there.

I got it. 50 big cents. The cover is extremely nice and the record isn't bad at all. I cleaned it and recorded it to MP3. It's on my iPod.

I like Nancy Wilson but I don't see her records around like I used to. I probably have 6 or 7 different ones.

One other proviso: I don't know much about music, like I can't use a bunch of musical terms, ballad, notes, falsetto runs, all that...

So it will be short & sweet, the general theme & sense of a song as we progress through it. I barely have any followers so it's no big deal.

I don't what would happen to a guy with 12,000 followers if he Live Tweeted an entire album. They'd probably run screaming.

OK, enough prologue. On with the album. 6 songs on side 1, 5 songs on side 2.

The album is full of romantic melodies, an entire album of romantic tempos. It's a fairly blue sounding record, crystal clear, but moody.

I heard it from the other room while it was recording. It sounded like late night listening, the lights low, a nice bachelor's lounge.

1) Who Can I Turn To (When Nobody Needs Me) - The liner notes say this is a masterful study in desolation. I love the description.

Soft, moody, wondering, going where destiny leads. No star to guide me, no one beside me, I'll go on my way, darkness will hide me.

But maybe tomorrow I'll find what I'm after, throw off sorrow. With you. But who can I turn to if you turn away.

That's a very pretty song. I'm almost sorry she has the hope of happiness, because I want desolation to be desolate, no bright side.

That might be a little heavy though for a song. She's going for her share of laughter, yet it's there, What if YOU turn away? (He won't.)

2) There Will Never Be Another You. Lighter, breezier right off the bat. (So beautiful fidelity to the recording.)

There'll be other nights like this, other experiences she'll know as the seasons pass, but there'll never be another you. Nice theme.

Very lavish orchestration in the middle. It's like listening to a super CD. Nancy's voice comes back to dream a million dreams. Lovely.

[Live Tweeting the Nancy Wilson LP from 1965 "Gentle Is My Love" - Song 3 coming, "If Love Is Good To Me"

Spring will come, grass will grow, brooks will hum with melted snow, if love is good to me.

Good things will happen, always with skies of blue. "As long as Mother Nature makes you love me." Kind of a stair-step, building song.

Everything depends on you, my dear. It will ALL be if love is good to me. I don't know this song but it's lovely.

The arrangements have strings, a touch of brass and reeds, and an easy but ever-present rhythm. -- from the liner notes.

Next is song 4, side 1: "My One and Only Love." Notes: She warmly spreads her mystic vocal charms over the haunting melody.

The touch of your hand is like heaven, a heaven I've never known. Everything about the lover is transformative, making her heart sing.

You appear in all your splendor, my one and only love. "Mystic charms" is actually part of the lyric, "your lips so warm and tender."

Every song on this album so far is beautifully lush. Listening to Nancy Wilson would make even Jethro Bodine seem classy.

Next, the 5th song: "Funnier Than Funny". I heard this one a while ago. It's more playful.

Notes say "On the sunny side, you'll find yourself delighting in the subtlety of FUNNIER THAN FUNNY..."

Everything is "funnier than funny." Memories can bring happiness by pleasures they impart. It's funny how they captivate your heart.

How you and I can share a kiss, then talk of funny things like this is very funny, funnier than funny. Excellent romantic, playful song.

Really concerns the wonders of love.

Next, the 6th song on the LP, the last song of side 1, "More."

Starts with an evocative strings section and single horn.

Oh, this is the "More than the greatest love the world has ever known" song. If it's the one I'm thinking of. It sounds a little familiar.

More than you'll ever know, my arms long to hold you so. A pretty romantic song of yearning, wow.

Waking, sleeping, laughing, weeping. -- "Far beyond forever you'll be mine." -- "I know I've never lived before..."

Stunning with the horn coming back in. "No one else could love you more."

Time to flip the album. Side 2, Song 1, "Gentle Is My Love." The title song to the album.

He's sweet and tender, not at all like you. So there's some comparison of lovers. "So gentle is my love," meaning HE, her love, is gentle.

He's not demanding. (So her ex must've been a monster to get a song like this."

You made me feel I was owned by you, while you could do what you wanted to. Now I have someone who belongs to me, etc.

This isn't what I expected. Kind of a tough sentiment: You suck, but he's great.

He's not like you. We don't need orchestration for a song like this, but maybe a honky tonk combo and a sputtering Nancy Wilson!

Definitely "Gentle Is My Love" is the worst song on the record so far. Hard to believe it is the title song. The title evokes better!

OK, continuing with Side 2. That was definitely a downer. I'll try to press on but I'm disappointed. Let me collect my thoughts here...whoa.

Song 8 is "At Long Last Love." The notes say "She ushers in dream time with two very familiar love songs done more slowly and...

meaningfully than ever before..." MORE was the 1st one, and AT LONG LAST LOVE the 2nd. --- So we're ushering in dream time again...

At Long Last Love - Is it an earthquake or simply a shock? Is it the good turtle soup or merely the mock? Is it a cocktail, this feeling?

OR....is it the REAL McCOY, meaning is it "At Long Last Love"? Very exploratory song, expansive thoughts, wondering, examining love...

Definitely we're back in the realm of the great romantic sound here. Enough strings in the orchestra to fly a million kites. Beautiful...

Next is the 9th song, "Time After Time." I wonder how many songs have this title. This is NOT the Cyndi Lauper song, of course...

Time after time, I tell myself that I'm so lucky to be loving you. So lucky to be the one you run to see in the evening ...

This is a reflective song, reminiscing on the benefits of the love we've shared. With "Time after time" you've heard me say I was lucky.

This is a great romantic song to celebrate an anniversary. It would make him or her cry. Or at least give you a special kiss afterwards.

I like it.

Next, the 10th song (out of 11), "If Ever I Would Leave You."

Starts with the title. "It wouldn't be in summer, seeing you in summer I never would go..." I've heard this song before somewhere.

I think it'll be I'll never leave you now, then, anytime.

If I'd ever leave you it couldn't be in autumn, how I'd leave in autumn I'd never know...

This song gives the idea of leaving you but then knows it can't be done. Like saying "I don't like you ... I LOVE YOU."

So it's a good romantic track, for all seasons. Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring ... then it's all recapitulated at the end.

Never could I leave you AT ALL. Good sentiment. I don't know about that though. Why are you even contemplating leaving me?

NOW, our last song, Number 11. Guess they couldn't come up with a 12th song to round out the album. 6 one side, 5 the other. Chintzy.

You want better balance than that, 6 and 6, an even number, not 11. Why'd they do that? Just to save on royalties? C'mon.

But it's been a long time back, 1965 thereabouts, and chances are it's too late to make it right, so we'll accept it, have to, there's 11.

Number 11: "When He Makes Music." From notes: "To close this superb album...the very dramatic WHEN HE MAKES MUSIC....

A fitting choice, for the tune's lyric captures the feeling Nancy's incomparable performances bestir in songwriter and listener alike...

Love the horn, swelling orchestra. It is more dramatic. "All he has to do is say hello, and that's the sweetest melody I know..."

The sound of angels singing soft and low...when he makes music. The vocals are more searching, hesitant, reaching, lots of feeling.

The lyric speaks of a symphony beginning, and the orchestra swells there. Then a million violins, enunciated by swelling violins. Beautiful.

He makes music only I can hear. -- Very nice, the sense that her beloved is hers alone and that's the way it should be..."

You wonder sometime how people fall in love, what they see in the other person. But it's music only they can hear.

I'm definitely tone deaf about some of the people I see, like walking through Wal-Mart, like How'd THOSE two ever get together?

But that's Mother Nature, composing her symphonies in the many bodies produced, attracted and attracting with "music only he/she can hear."

This is a very nice album. The overall tone is reflective, often prolonging whatever sentiment is being expressed, making it expressive.

Each song is excellent, except for the sub-par "Gentle Is My Love." That song was a downer and shall forever remain one, no redeeming it.

This has been a Live Tweeting of the NANCY WILSON LP, "Gentle Is My Love." Nancy's beautiful and a beautiful singer. Sing on, Nancy!

36 Advertisers Drop Beck

I'm amazed at all the advertisers who've dropped out of Glenn Beck's show.

36! That's a lot!

I never saw his show. With so many advertisements when did he have the time to say all this crazy stuff?

As much as I'd love to see him kicked to the curb, I have a feeling he'll make it through this somehow. As we know from the bug world, cockroaches have a way of surviving.

My Dog's Trapped

My dog was just trapped by the sound of a woman's pleasant voice downstairs calling her.

She went running, but by now must regret it, since she's getting her hair/fur brushed. She doesn't like that, because there's usually snarls that need to be worked out. And it means laying on a hassock thing with some combing and picking.

But the voice, the call, it all usually indicates something desirable, like a walk.

Poor thing. But how much more kissably soft she'll be when she brushed. It's just I know she hates it so much.

A Rising Star That Crashed And Burned

Here's an entry from a parallel universe, one in which Gov. Mark Sanford, REPUBLICAN, is a rising star in his party, all set to tell us all the terrible things of the Obama Administration and lead us back to the fine Republican principles of the Bush years, er-- check that, back to some golden time of Republican ideals, perhaps 10 minutes during Reagan's time in office.

TPM has part of a book catalog for a book that Sanford had written and would've been published now. In those long ago days, before the Appalachian trail, before the lover in South America, before all the weird overcharges on his expense reports, before he gave a semi-psychotic news conference, he was writing "a conservative manifesto."

Then he unzipped his pants and all bets were off.

His "down-to-earth voice and common sense principles will give conservative readers a much-needed sense of hope," says the publicity. Are so-called conservative readers even looking for a down-to-earth voice and common sense principles these days? They seem a lot less hinged than that!

Michelle Bachmann Now Pro-Choice

Arch conservative crazy person, Michelle Bachmann, Republican Congresswoman from Peabrain, Minnesota, had this to say about health care:

"That's why people need to continue to go to the town halls, continue to melt the phone lines of their liberal members of Congress, and let them know, under no certain circumstances will I give the government control over my body and my health care decisions."

Oh boy, where to start! Such stunning stupidity.

Tom DeLay On Dancing With The Stars?

This is another of the thousands of shows I don't watch.

But like everyone, I somehow hear the names of people who are dancing on it. Not all the names because a lot of celebrities' names I don't recognize. Like soap opera actors, except for "All My Children." Or the various B-listers from reality shows.

I saw one ad for "Dancing With The Stars" today and I distinctly saw that Tom DeLay(!) is going to be a contestant on it.

Tom DeLay? Can he dance? He's a Republican, right? What dance does he do, the Larry Craig Two-Step?

And he's "A Star?" The way I remember his ethics he ought to be starring in whatever stage shows they put on in prison somewhere.

Bob Novak Died

Oh, I was just wondering the other day why we haven't heard anything more about Bob Novak. He had that problem with his car a few months ago and that's the last I heard.

Now today we learn he died. All the best to his family and loved ones.

Lynn Sweet says Bob relished his “Prince of Darkness” public persona. I believe we saw that, over and over, on CNN's "Crossfire" and "Capital Gang" shows.

I used to watch "Capital Gang" very faithfully, and Bob was a good foil for the more level headed (from my point of view) Mark Shields and Al Hunt. Then there was Margaret Carlson and my arch nemesis Kate O'Beirne. I quit watching it toward the end, the last year or so, because I couldn't stand the terrible opinions of Kate. Blech!

But the terrible opinions of Bob Novak I could stomach a lot more for some reason, which is weird, since they were pretty terrible. I don't know. Maybe he looked like he half didn't really believe it. And was playing a part. He definitely seemed to smile a lot more when he said something incendiary and was rebutted.

I also remember seeing him on "Evans and Novak," and he seemed less like a guy playing a part there.

Somewhere I have a book that Evans and Novak wrote on Nixon, which I recall reading some of several years ago. There's some interesting anecdotes in there about Nixon. One I recall is the story of Nixon going out late one night and talking to some antiwar guys at one of the memorials. Seemed like a good book.

When I saw Bob Novak on TV I usually had that book in the back of my mind, so maybe that's another reason I didn't dislike him very much.

I Am Joe's Bankruptcy Attorney

The Reader's Digest has filed for bankruptcy!

Good grief, it's gotta be hard times when the magazine with the largest circulation goes bankrupt. While I don't know all the laws (ins and outs) pertaining to such things, my own personal opinion has always been that bankruptcy means all is not going well.

I think it's their screwy modern covers. Put the table of contents on the front again and maybe I'll be back.

I'm a traditionalist. I go for the old ways only.

Batman A Local Guy?

For years I've been driving by a house in a middle class neighborhood that has a car out in the driveway with a complete covering, ties and everything. I don't know what kind of car is under there because you can't see anything.

It just suddenly occurred to me that it might be the Batmobile. And that Batman might be living there, possibly having fallen on hard times, or wanting to be closer to the scene of the action, in a town. Maybe he read one of those 'Simplify your life' books and gave up on Wayne Manor.

Whatever it is, it'd be the perfect disguise, because, like I say, I've been driving by there all these years and never suspected ... till today. (A little more on my thoughts coming true in a minute.)

But simplifying his life would mean giving up the Batcave and maybe using the root cellar at this house, or just fixing up the basement, putting some black plastic on the windows. He's all set.

We have a community college, and maybe Robin goes there, having never grown up.

[OK, now the thing about my thoughts coming true.]:

We went to a local fast food restaurant. We're standing there. Our total comes up to a tiny bit over $9.00. I put down a $20 and a dime. So I'm supposed to get back $11.00 and a few pennies. I suddenly start thinking, what if I don't get back the $10? What if the guy has a scam where he occasionally keeps $10 and figures a certain percentage of people won't notice?

On my word -- believe me -- whether it was a scam or not or just a mistake, he literally gives me back $1 and a few pennies. Since I'm thinking of it already, I just said, "Wrong." He looks down, then looks at the cash register, covering his eyes because the sun's streaming in on him from the west window. He recognizes instantly the mistake and comes across with the extra $10.

So that's freaky. I'm normally fairly paranoid. But I'm not normally thinking of this kind of thing.

Here's the tie-in: That really could be Batman's house and car. Why else would I be thinking of it?

The Shaggy Dog

I said the other day that I got a VHS tape of "The Shaggy Dog," the old Disney movie from around 1958.

I actually watched it, piecemeal like I do while I'm exercising morning and night. Then today I knew I was close to the end so I just sat and let it play out.

It was OK. Very lightweight, easy stuff to handle. And in "glorious black and white" as the box says. It didn't look all that glorious, but it's VHS ... you're not getting digital sharpness. That's OK though, because I won't ever be buying it on DVD. It's not something I want to see over and over.

As for the story, the kid keeps turning into a shaggy dog, then back to a kid, and he has some adventures. It becomes a spy story, and the real story is how do they break up the spies or get the government to believe their information, since it's hard for the authorities to believe the guy's kid is a dog.

It's amazing though how accepting others are of this weird fact. The old professor at the beginning, he has no problem with it. He's the one who's able to explain how this could've happened to Wilby. (He read the inscription off a magical ring that the Borgias owned.) The brother Montgomery "Moochie" Daniels has no trouble accepting it. In fact he prefers his brother as a dog. And the Dad, played by Fred MacMurray, even though he hates dogs, is able to accept it that his son is in fact a dog without many questions. You'd think he'd think they were pulling a prank on him.

I don't think Mom ever finds out about Wilby. And his best friend doesn't find out exactly. Except they're both enmeshed in a net fighting, with the fight starting out with a dog and ending up somehow with Wilby. And speaking of being enmeshed in a net, Annette Funicello is in the movie as their sometimes love interest. Annette's role is surprising minor. She comes and goes a few times and is at the big dance. The main female role is the French girl who moves in next door, who owns the shaggy dog who keeps being absorbed into Wilby. In the movie, Annette doesn't have an interesting role in the least.

The police are used for some of the comic relief, as one officer in particular keeps hearing Wilby as the dog talking, other various things. It's almost too much though. And I'm thinking of one scene close to the end, where they're radioing headquarters, and the captain has them repeat the whole description of the dog. I thought this could've been trimmed down.

It's a harmless, lightweight, nothing major film, entertaining in its way. I'm glad to have seen it. And now that I have, I'm also glad to move on.

Holy Card: Portrait Of Jesus

This has a Copyright date of 1934. Jesus in portrait, beautiful artwork, a picture I haven't seen. Unfortunately, some stains on it from handling. Still, very nice.

Holy Card: Therese of Lisieux

This beautiful one is my favorite saint of all time, St. Therese, the Little Flower. Card from Italy, classic cross and roses pose.

Someone had this one on a bulletin board, because there's two pin holes in it, top and bottom. Reprinted from Leaves magazine of Dearborn, Michigan.

The back has a prayer:

St. Therese, the Little Flower, please pick me a rose from the heavenly garden and send it to me with a message of love. Ask God to grant me the favor I thee implore and tell Him I will love Him each day more and more.

(The above prayer, plus 5 Our Father's, 5 Hail Mary's, 5 Glory Be's, must be said on 5 successive days, before 11 A.M. On the 5th day, the 5th set of prayers having been completed, offer one more set -- 5 Our Father's, 5 Hail Mary's, 5 Glory Be's.)

Therese of Lisieux, sometimes called Theresa with an A. The Little Flower, "No matter where, her prayer is guiding me," from an old song.

Holy Card: Come Sanctifier

A lovely card with a dove hovering over the Jesus chalice, with the host, drops of fire. "Come Sanctifier, bless these sacrificial gifts."

Holy Card: Ecce Ancilla Domini

Mary's praying and a dove is above her head, "Ecce ancilla Domini," Behold the handmaid of the Lord.

Holy Card: Salvator Mundi

There's some great heavenly power being radiated downward, then the Savior's great sacrifice for the world.

Holy Card: Crucified Christ

A black and white close up of the crucified Christ, thorns on His head. Maybe the most stunning artwork I've ever seen of this scene.

His mouth is open but relaxed, his eyes are closed, there's a beatific expression on his face, the body is soft fuzzed, melts into black.

Behind Christ you can see just part of the cross, and there's a halo that arcs way out. If you continued the circle it'd cross His neck.

The only marking is D-57.

In Jail For Yawning

When will the next Supreme Court vacancy be? I have the perfect guy to be our next justice. Since the Republicans hate empathy, Judge Daniel Rozak ought to suit them perfectly.

Who could have less empathy than Judge Rozak, who threw the book at an Illinois man, Clifton Williams, for yawning in his courtroom. That's right, yawning. Or maybe he blinked too many times, or scratched his ear, or sneezed. Whatever it was, he got jail time.

What if he did all four at the same time -- yawned, blinked, scratched, and sneezed? I know a sneeze and a yawn at the same time would be very offensive to me. I'd probably put him in solitary confinement.

Later, reviewing his sentence, Judge Rozak asked Williams if he had anything to say. Deciding that mere words couldn't express his contempt for Rozak's court, and having feasted on a plate of boiled cabbage earlier that morning, he farted.

Judge Rozak immediately had Williams lynched.

Senior Discount

I heard a waitress tonight explaining the reason their restaurant doesn't have a senior discount, because most of their customers are seniors.

Our Lips Must Never Meet

If you see my cute lips coming down the street, please take your sweet lips and cross over to the other side. Because, my darling, our lips must never meet.

The Moss Of Imagination

I wish I could get the moss I had when I first got up today. My mind was running fast, flying over fields of thought. Very manic and fun.

The thing about thought. It has to do with your rest, your dreams, and whatever other place moods come from. At those times, bottle it!

By the time of lunch, then certainly after you have the food and that languor of digestion going on, you feel like everything's slowed down.

This is one reason I should be eating a light salad for lunch. Get that discipline.

I love a good crouton.

Liquid Vacuum Cleanr

I think Liquid Plumbr is spelled without an E in Plumber. So despite the spell check I believe that's right.

I need a Liquid Vacuum Cleanr, without the E if it's cool, to eat the hair, fur, dust bunnies, and general debris from my sweeper.

It was reported today that the vacuum cleaner wasn't working again. Which means hinting around that we go get a new one. It seems like this comes around every couple years. Then another dead vacuum goes to the cemetery in the basement or garage, wherever they are now.

But we were digging around in it. There are some inaccessible places, since I couldn't figure out how to dismantle it entirely. So I was sticking a wire down the hole, with a hook. Then a brush thing with a wire. And I was getting out wads of hair, fur, etc., but I don't think I got everything.

What we need is something to pour in it, without destroying the motor of course, which would be the problem every time.

The Shaggy Dog and Marilyn Monroe

I got a VHS tape today of "The Shaggy Dog," at Goodwill.

I don't know. I'm not a Disney fan in the least. But I thought, it's an old, cute movie. One I don't believe I've seen. I'm not going to buy it on DVD but here it is for a buck, it might be fun to see while I'm exercising, killing time, or whatever.

So one of these days I'll be watching that.

This week (I watch movies in about 10 minute chunks) I've been watching "Some Like It Hot," with Marilyn Monroe, Tony Curtis, and Jack Lemmon. I'm loving it, but I'm ready for it to end. It's very cute. I think it might be building to a head, because the gangsters the two men were fleeing are back in the scene.

I really haven't seen Marilyn Monroe that much in movies. I'm not really a movie guy. And somehow I missed hers. She's cute but plays sort of a dumb blonde in it.

The men are dressed as women, employed in an all girl band. Anyone who wouldn't be able to recognize their maleness, of course, would need to be examined. But that's the way the movie needs it to be. The dialogue is very snappy and well written. It's an excellent, delightful film.

Head Pun

Don't lose your head. Keep your pate in place.

Another Interesting Rib

This rib definitely has some meat on it.

Rachael Ray's Ribs

That's a very proud rib right there in the center.

Billy Mays A Drug Guy?

Billy Mays' autopsy results were released. And according to the findings, he was a cocaine user, which contributed to his death.

The TV pitchman had last used cocaine days prior to his death, the report states.

Well, I wasn't expecting that.

Dead Tchaikovsky

Decomposing is what Tchaikovsky did when he wadded up a manuscript.

Then he died and has been decomposing ever since.

That's why we need to listen to his music feverishly, before it all disappears.

Very Tasty

The church started their ice cream social with a singing of "O For A Thousand Tongues."

Rachel Maddow

Rachel gave a devastating report tonight on the corporations and Republican fat cat interests behind the supposed "average middle class Americans" protesting the idea of health care reform.

This has to be very funny to the fat cat interests, because they're making millions and stand to make millions more if the rest of us suffer with a crappy health care system. And how funny must it be to them that with a few "patriotic" manipulations of these people, they'll go shout down their congressman or congresswoman over something that would probably do them good, reform.

Even if you're a Republican, an average middle class American, you're suffering the same crappy health care system the rest of us are. The insurance companies aren't going to come around and give you a discount because you torpedoed your own interests. You're being used.

You're going to get old and sick, or have preexisting conditions, or lose your health care because you're out of work, or you suddenly find yourself too poor to pay for it. It's stupid to work against your own interests on behalf of these manipulative fat cats.

Birther Mantra -- "Yes We Can!"

I want to try something with a slogan we all remember from the '08 campaign.

"Yes we can." Let's say it over and over, "Yes we can! Yes we can! Yes we can! Yes we can! Yes we can! Yes we can!"

Whenever you say something over and over very soon it starts to run together and by now you're not pronouncing the words clearly. You can see how this could work with "Yes we can!" We used to do it when trying to say "Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers" or "Rubber baby buggy bumpers," definite tongue twisters.

With "Yes we can," when slurred together and then separated out, you can see numerous permutations. "Yes we can! Yeah we can! Ya we kin!" And then to take it a step further, if you were saying it for 20 minutes straight, let's say, the rhythm could fluctuate and you wouldn't even necessarily be saying the "Ya" word first, but it'd be out of its normal order.

This could happen so much, with such mispronouncing, that eventually you could be saying, "Can Ya We! Kin Ya We!" To the point that it spells out "Ken-ya-we!" At first it reminds you of Kanye West, but look at that again!

It says, "Kenya We."

Now, I remember years ago when I was in grade school studying some of the various Kenyan languages, going for extra credit. The other kids were out exploding 2-liter Coke bottles with Mentos (This was the mid-'60s. Check it out, there's no anachronisms here), but I was inside studiously poring over African language websites.

And as I recall, and I confess I'm a little rusty, having not spoken Kenyan since winning the Kenyan version of "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire" in 1981, the first person plural can always be translated as a first person singular when expressing someone's occupation, birthplace, town, or country of residence. (Instead of individualism, which we consider normal, in Kenya they relate more in a dyadic way*.) So we in English would say, "I am from America." But Kenyan grammar leaves out the "to be" verb form, with the words "Kenya We" then usually translating, "I am from Kenya."

Was Barack Obama trying to tell us something during the campaign?

-------------------------
* "A dyadic personality is one who simply needs another continually in order to know who he or she really is," Bruce J. Malina writes in "The New Testament World -- Insights from Cultural Anthropology," John Knox Press, 1981, p. 55.

As an aside, ask yourself, when is the last time you saw a Kenyan by himself? Then ask yourself, Isn't Barack Obama always surrounded by other people?

Vague Tweets

Someone at Twitter cited one of my tweets as a "vague tweet." I've only been on there three or four days, so I guess it's an honor -- being virtually followerless as I am -- for this Vague Tweets guy to cite one of mine as vague.

It was:

You might call me a group dynamologist and a grange dancologist. With an interest in sexual tension. And farmers' daughters.

I'd love to explain about this. I'm doing Twitter with my Grandma Slump persona. As vaguely defined as that persona is. I go through days wondering about it occasionally. The fact that no one else is wondering makes it my own concern.

Recently, from April to the end of July, I was "on hiatus," during which I went on and on about that. Now I'm casting about for another theme that will be easy enough to write about on a daily basis while bringing in some weird bits of humor. I try to take how I normally think and give it about five twists. Sometimes it's funny, sometimes not. But I keep tweaking it, since my funnier ideas come after I've hit the post button.

My big idea for the foreseeable future is a toughie. But I'm going to make it easier by not being entirely consistent. I don't really know how to do fiction in any kind of orderly way. So it's going to be a mixture of teaching about group dynamics and a secret, nefarious society that has their roots in the local grange. I'm picturing these characters as the ordinary folks who go to the grange, but they're very far gone as far as looking down their noses at other people and wanting to maintain strict group coherence.

Why and how all this is meant to exist in an actual human setting is probably going to be my downfall. But maybe it's a magical place like Brigadoon, only the very moral characters of this society are also rotten and evil to the core. I'd love to have easily-accessible farmers' daughters, but I've also defined most of them as informants and not really that interested in relations with outside entities. But there may be one or two. This is probably what will happen. I will find one or two who have moral issues with immorality and decide to be immoral in other ways. But how am I going to discern their intentions? That's a direction to go for sure.

On the other hand, I'm over 50 and the typical farmer's daughter who wears those hot farmer's daughter shorts we all love is going to be looking for someone younger. It could be, though, that with the high rate of informants among their possible beaus that they don't know where to turn. (I need to keep it clean, though, because I don't do blue material.)

Now, the grange people are very moral. But they also use obviously immoral means to root out those who have come among them who are not sincere and concerned with group coherence as they demand it should be. These means include orgies and all kinds of other apparent looseness. It's all done for their own moral ends, which would be immoral to the rest of us.

Where's the group dynamics angle come from? I'm interested in group dynamics even though I don't have any formal training in the subject. But still, I figure my theories and conclusions are just as good as anyone's. Just because I'm not parroting the normal academic line doesn't mean my conclusions are inferior. I feel like I need to take academic inbreeding to task anyway. They're always looking down their nose at us laymen, who could probably kick their flabby butts if it came to fisticuffs. In this case, I would aver, might makes right.

We were out to lunch the other day and I wrote the "Vague Tweet" while sitting at the table in a fancy restaurant. It gave me a thrill, like a bolt of electricity that started in one heel and went up to my knee, then from my knee to my [that area]. Then from [that area] up to the chest and so forth. Then it was repeated in the other leg. To make a long story short, I ended up with my shirt unbuttoned and was daubing my sweaty chest with the fancy cloth napkin soaked in my iced tea. [I'm doing my persona again, fell into it.]

But I want to give credit where credit is due. I couldn't think of the word that would become "dynamologist." I was asking, "What would be the word, a fake word, for someone who studies group dynamics?" Because I was thinking "dynamicist," which didn't look right. [I love all this self-referential BS, of which every word is true.] The woman I was with -- yes, I was with a woman -- suggested "dynamologist" and I said "That's perfect." Sending off my tweet, we both soaked our sweaty chests and sent for refills.

Now, of course I know that when the "Vague Tweets" guy or gal (but waiters call both men and women "guys," so I guess I can too) saw my tweet, he or she no doubt thought it was just some random crap that meant nothing. But it's not that vague if you know the back story! One thing about it, though, I don't believe I had the evil grangers in mind quite yet. Just the farmers' daughters.

Veritgo

I rewatched Veritgo. It's been a few years and I was surprised how much of it I forgot. I forgot a lot.

I couldn't remember how it ended and a lot of the various twists and turns. I need to watch it again now with everything fresh in my mind. Maybe I will.

This is only the second time I've seen it. But I happened to find a cheap VHS of it at a thrift store so I picked it up.

It would be nice to have it on DVD or Blu-Ray, but a Blu-Ray disc doesn't seem to be available yet.

Of course I remembered the bell tower sequences (the first two) and the scene at the Golden Gate bridge. I remembered certain things about the bell tower sequences that meant I was expecting certain twists.

I like all the slow meandering the film makes around San Francisco and a lot of the scenes where James Stewart is just thinking and wondering, trying to make sense of what he's doing.

Nice movie. It's "all the thumbs I have up."

And Bringing Up The Rear

...I'm walking in your wake, bringing up the rear, passing through the same patch of air that you were in. We'll always be two ships passing through the same patch of air seconds apart.