Maybe they should change the rules so that if you're elected president you start work in the White House the next day. George Bush who certainly did his best to ruin this country still has 2 months to be president and evidently he's going to spend them the same way he spent the first eight years -- screwing over the poor and middle-class, this time by reducing the number of services available under Medicaid, despite the fact that he knows President Obama is just going to undo his evil handiwork. According to the New York Times this is "the first of an expected avalanche of post-election regulations" so brace yourself, I guess W's taking no chances on securing his legacy as America's worst president ever.
And me, I just hope I live long enough to understand why a working class person would ever vote Republican. All they do is pay lip service to you and your needs and then spend their terms making themselves and their rich-ass friends even more obscenely wealthy.
Sunday, November 09, 2008
Sunday, November 02, 2008
People who piss me off, part one
Today in church we did an exercise where you write about someone you're angry or upset with and the first thing I said was, "I'm going to need more than that one sheet of paper." The point of course was to get to some kind of understanding and eventually peace. At least I think that's the point. I was too busy making a list of people who piss me off. Since I was planning to go to the gym that afternoon I started there.
PEOPLE WHO PISS ME OFF AT THE GYM
1.) The Dumper. I mean, who takes a shit at the gym? What are you, homeless? I seriously do not understand why they even have toilets at public places. Urinals, yes. But there's no way I'm sitting down and going on that seat that people have pissed on and puked on unless I have a dire and immediate gastric emergency. And even then I'll probably end up going in my pants while speeding home to my own lovely toilet.
2.) The Gum Chewer. I don't know why I find this so irksome. All of a sudden I'm Miss Vevon, my eleventh grade english teacher who hating gum chewing more than she hated dangling participles or anything else on earth. I just think there's a time and a place for chewing gum -- although right now I can only think of one, and that's when you're going up in the mountains or otherwise experiencing a sudden change in altitude. And chin-ups don't count.
3.) The Nudists. Why, why, why do some guys insist on strutting around naked? You've got a towel in your hand, why don't you wrap it around yourself. Cover up that rusty old ass and micro dick. I mean, seriously, what is the point?
4.) The Ladies Man. The guy who only goes to the gym to flirt with the ladies. Again, time and place, Romeo. If you worked on your physique as hard as you work on your pick-up lines, maybe you'd get a better response.
5.) Larry the Cable Guy. This is the guy who works out in jeans and an old button-down shirt with the sleeves torn off. Buy some sweats, dude. They're right there in Wal-Mart not tooo far from the chewing tobacco.
6.) Mr. Top-heavy. These are the guys with huge arms, huge chests and scrawny little bird legs. Quit doing all those curls and do some squats or something to develop your lower body or you are going to crumble.
7.) The Narcissist. This is the guy who does all his exercises in front of a mirror and is unable to hide his admiration for his own body.
8.) The Guy Who Blow Dries his Testicles. This guy should be drawn and quartered.
PEOPLE WHO PISS ME OFF AT THE GYM
1.) The Dumper. I mean, who takes a shit at the gym? What are you, homeless? I seriously do not understand why they even have toilets at public places. Urinals, yes. But there's no way I'm sitting down and going on that seat that people have pissed on and puked on unless I have a dire and immediate gastric emergency. And even then I'll probably end up going in my pants while speeding home to my own lovely toilet.
2.) The Gum Chewer. I don't know why I find this so irksome. All of a sudden I'm Miss Vevon, my eleventh grade english teacher who hating gum chewing more than she hated dangling participles or anything else on earth. I just think there's a time and a place for chewing gum -- although right now I can only think of one, and that's when you're going up in the mountains or otherwise experiencing a sudden change in altitude. And chin-ups don't count.
3.) The Nudists. Why, why, why do some guys insist on strutting around naked? You've got a towel in your hand, why don't you wrap it around yourself. Cover up that rusty old ass and micro dick. I mean, seriously, what is the point?
4.) The Ladies Man. The guy who only goes to the gym to flirt with the ladies. Again, time and place, Romeo. If you worked on your physique as hard as you work on your pick-up lines, maybe you'd get a better response.
5.) Larry the Cable Guy. This is the guy who works out in jeans and an old button-down shirt with the sleeves torn off. Buy some sweats, dude. They're right there in Wal-Mart not tooo far from the chewing tobacco.
6.) Mr. Top-heavy. These are the guys with huge arms, huge chests and scrawny little bird legs. Quit doing all those curls and do some squats or something to develop your lower body or you are going to crumble.
7.) The Narcissist. This is the guy who does all his exercises in front of a mirror and is unable to hide his admiration for his own body.
8.) The Guy Who Blow Dries his Testicles. This guy should be drawn and quartered.
nanowrimo Day 2
I did 1651 words on my NaNoWriMo novel today for a total of 3387, so I'm right on schedule. I also know what's going to happen next, which is a first. It reminds me of my favorite quote about writing. It's from E.L. Doctorow:
Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.
Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.
If We Make it Through November
November is National Novel Writing Month, when nutjobs all across the globe try to write a complete novel in one month. Sounds impossible, right? And it would be except for the fact that there's one word missing from the mission -- that word is "good." You don't have to write a good novel as long as it's 50,000 words. As founder Chris Baty says on the website, "It's all about quantity, not quality. The kamikaze approach forces you to lower your expectations, take risks, and write on the fly. Make no mistake: you will be writing a lot of crap. And that's a good thing. By forcing yourself to write so intensely, you are giving yourself permission to make mistakes. To forgo the endless tweaking and editing and just create. To build without tearing down".
Which still ain't easy. You need to average 1660 words or so a day to complete NaNoWriMo. I wrote 1736 words yesterday and it took me 2 and a half hours. I'm not going to have that much time most days, nowhere near. Especially as whatever free time I have will still need to be spent at the gym. (I'm leaving the fat-loss portion of my fitness program now and moving into the hypertrophy portion. Although I bought a body-fat percentage scale yesterday and it says I'm at 19.1% BF which is down about 10% from the first time I checked it in April and God knows how much since I started this path in January but still higher than I want to be.)
I'm going back to the book now. Wish me luck. In the following post I put up what I slaved over yesterday. If you want to comment on it, remember the rules of NaNoWriMo
NaNoWrimo
CHAPTER ONE
“I was having a bad week, your honor. A really bad week. I’m talking from-hell type a week, you know what I mean? I had sprained my shoulder getting out of the way of a demonic minivan that seemed determined on running me down no matter which way I tried to avoid that fate. Myrna – that’s my hairdresser – well, ex-hairdresser now – had completely messed up my hair. She ruined it. I mean, look at this, would you go anywhere with your hair looking like this?”
“The plaintiff may not have noticed but I don’t have any hair at all. If I had your locks I would be grateful for them and try to fix them on my next appointment.”
Great, a funny judge. My lucky streak continues. I forced out the best fake chuckle I could muster under the circumstances, which only seemed to antagonize him. Maybe he wasn’t being funny. Maybe he really did want my fried, hacked-off orangeish hair. We can work this out, your honor. Just let me go and I’ll give you every tress.
“And my favorite TV show got canceled before we even found out who Carly was going to marry. And then this morning I was late for work. Again. And again it was not my fault. According to the radio there was an overturned chicken truck on the interstate blocking traffic for miles.
“An overturned chicken truck. That’s the kind of week I was having, your honor. How does that even happen? Do all the hens all decide to lay their eggs on one side of the truck and the weight of all that albumen tips the thing over?”
“That’s neither here nor there, Ms. Masterson. As much as I’d love to spend the day discussing possible causes of poultry pile-ups I do have other cases on my docket.”
“Right. Sorry, your honor. So, ordinarily when I’m stuck in traffic, I try to use the time to get something done – usually prep for a meeting at work or planning an upcoming party, but even if it’s just filing my nails I figure I might as well get something out of the situation. So I was reaching for my purse when I realized I’d left the sodding thing at home. And of course in addition to my emery board and my drivers license, it had everything I needed for that meeting with the Smith-Klein corporation that I was already late for
“And that was when I threw up my hands. ‘Great!’ I said, ‘that’s just great!.’ And I just kinda asked heaven – even though I don’t believe in heaven or God or any of that claptrap and before you say anything, yes, I realize that’s neither here nor there – ‘What else could go wrong?’
“Like, I said, I’m not a believer, but wouldn’t you know, for once heaven answered. The lady behind me – her over there with her hair all tamped down on one side like that where you can tell she never stops talking and should really invest in a bluetooth if you ask me – well, she was evidently lost in a deep cell phone dream, and hallucinated that the gridlock surrounding us was actually a smoothly functioning chickenless municipal thoroughfare and ran into my back bumper knocking my little Prius into the SUV in front of me and throwing my shoulder – which had been edging its way slowly back into his socket – almost through the windshield and up onto my now crumpled-up hood.
“When I got out to give her a good cussing-out – which must be the thing to do in these circumstances, since the tattooed bruiser in the SUV, who as you can see looks a whole lot like Joseph Stalin only not near as friendly was rappeling down from his gas-guzzler to give me one too. Which he did, your honor, and it was a much meaner and more menacing cussing than I gave Suzy Cellphone there.”
I stopped there because the judge was holding up his hand. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
“The court is prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt, Ms. Masterson, and assume that you misheard the question and are answering a whole lot of questions the court never asked in the hopes that you might stumble upon the correct question. To save us both some time however, why don’t I repeat it? Why did you push the gentleman there into a ditch?”
“That’s exactly the question I am answering, your honor. But it won’t make much sense if you don’t have any background on the situation.”
I could tell by the way he smirked that he didn’t think it made a whole hell of a lot of sense even with the background information, and I had to admit he had a point.
“All right, so I’m cussing out Suzy Cellphone, Joe Stalin there is cussing – and threatening – me, when up walks this guy. ” And I turn to point to the guy who more than anybody was responsible for my being where I was. He was sitting in the front row of the court but he wasn’t paying any attention. He was gazing out the window, looking at something that commanded his full attention. Maybe they were already working on building my gallows out there, who knows.
“As you can see, he’s all scruffy and unshaven, and I have no idea where he came from, where his car was or what in the hell he wanted from me. I thought at first he might be homeless but you don’t get that kind of flawless skin living out on the street and he didn’t talk like a homeless guy or smell like one either.”
The judge held up one finger and brought it crashing down onto his desk or pulpit or whatever you call that thing he sits behind. And although I don’t speak sign language I knew he meant “Get to the point.”
“So he walks up from out of nowhere in the middle of all this cussing and blaming that’s going on and he starts apologizing. For what I have no idea. But he’s all like, ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.’ At first I ignored him. I mean with the day I’m having the last thing I need is some nutjob with flawless features to go blithering on about how he somehow caused this accident even though as far as I can tell he doesn’t even have a car. Then the light goes on, and I think I know who he might be.
“But I don’t get a chance to ask him cuz right then Stalin there grabbed my shoulder – the sore one I told you about – and spun me back around cuz he evidently has a strong preference for spewing profanity in my face rather than at the back of my head. Suzy cellphone was still chatting all this time, by the way, and I think we all assumed that she was talking to the police, until she goes, ‘Okay, Randy, I’ll see you tonight. I love you too’ and even makes this little kissy-kiss bye-bye sound.
“Well, I wanted to take that phone and shove it up – I mean, fling it somewhere, maybe through Josef’s back window or something. But I don’t. I show restraint and suggest her next call be to 911. Then I turn around to the homeless guy who’s still apologizing and I say, ‘Are you the guy who was driving the chicken truck?’
“And he goes ‘Chicken truck? What chicken truck?’
“And I go, ‘If you’re not the guy who caused this traffic jam, then who the hell are you?’ and he goes, ‘I’m Hershel, your guardian angel.’
“That was when I pushed him into the ditch and I’m sorry I did that, your honor. But as I think I’ve demonstrated, I was having a bad week and an even worse day, so I was in no mood for crazy talk.”
After that they put Hershel or whatever his name was up on the stand. He said no, he wasn’t hurt, no, he didn’t want to press charges, what he meant when he said he was a guardian angel was that he was a good Samaritan and he wanted to see if he could help in any way.
He was charming as all hell and the judge not only bought it, but it seemed to imbue him with such goodwill toward man that he let us all go, he even dismissed the ticket the cop had given me for driving without my license, though he did give me a stern warning that if was caught driving without it in my possession again the sentence he would give me give would curl my hair even worse than it already had been.
By the time we got out of the courtroom it was after eleven o’clock. My meeting was long over. So too was my career probably, since my cellphone was still at home in my purse and I never even called to explain to my boss why I wasn’t there.
I was standing outside at the curb waiting for a trusting cabdriver to come by, one who looked like he would believe me when I told him that although I had no money I would be able to pay him when we got to my house, when homeless Hershel walked up beside me.
“I really am sorry about everything that happened today,” he said.
“Is that all you know how to say? ‘I’m sorry’?”
He smiled. “No, I also know how to say ‘Can I buy you a cup of coffee or some lunch to make up for the trouble I’ve caused.’ ”
I was about to point out that he had only caused a small percentage of my woes, but I felt like I had used up my quota of verbiage for the week on the judge – who didn’t appreciate it half as much as he appreciated the few honeyed words from Hershel – and besides, all I wanted to do was get home to an overflowing bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream and the Discovery Channel. I did not want any more penitent palaver with this lunatic.
“Look, I’m too tired to be polite, so I’ll just tell you flat out I don’t like coffee and I don’t like you. So
“I was having a bad week, your honor. A really bad week. I’m talking from-hell type a week, you know what I mean? I had sprained my shoulder getting out of the way of a demonic minivan that seemed determined on running me down no matter which way I tried to avoid that fate. Myrna – that’s my hairdresser – well, ex-hairdresser now – had completely messed up my hair. She ruined it. I mean, look at this, would you go anywhere with your hair looking like this?”
“The plaintiff may not have noticed but I don’t have any hair at all. If I had your locks I would be grateful for them and try to fix them on my next appointment.”
Great, a funny judge. My lucky streak continues. I forced out the best fake chuckle I could muster under the circumstances, which only seemed to antagonize him. Maybe he wasn’t being funny. Maybe he really did want my fried, hacked-off orangeish hair. We can work this out, your honor. Just let me go and I’ll give you every tress.
“And my favorite TV show got canceled before we even found out who Carly was going to marry. And then this morning I was late for work. Again. And again it was not my fault. According to the radio there was an overturned chicken truck on the interstate blocking traffic for miles.
“An overturned chicken truck. That’s the kind of week I was having, your honor. How does that even happen? Do all the hens all decide to lay their eggs on one side of the truck and the weight of all that albumen tips the thing over?”
“That’s neither here nor there, Ms. Masterson. As much as I’d love to spend the day discussing possible causes of poultry pile-ups I do have other cases on my docket.”
“Right. Sorry, your honor. So, ordinarily when I’m stuck in traffic, I try to use the time to get something done – usually prep for a meeting at work or planning an upcoming party, but even if it’s just filing my nails I figure I might as well get something out of the situation. So I was reaching for my purse when I realized I’d left the sodding thing at home. And of course in addition to my emery board and my drivers license, it had everything I needed for that meeting with the Smith-Klein corporation that I was already late for
“And that was when I threw up my hands. ‘Great!’ I said, ‘that’s just great!.’ And I just kinda asked heaven – even though I don’t believe in heaven or God or any of that claptrap and before you say anything, yes, I realize that’s neither here nor there – ‘What else could go wrong?’
“Like, I said, I’m not a believer, but wouldn’t you know, for once heaven answered. The lady behind me – her over there with her hair all tamped down on one side like that where you can tell she never stops talking and should really invest in a bluetooth if you ask me – well, she was evidently lost in a deep cell phone dream, and hallucinated that the gridlock surrounding us was actually a smoothly functioning chickenless municipal thoroughfare and ran into my back bumper knocking my little Prius into the SUV in front of me and throwing my shoulder – which had been edging its way slowly back into his socket – almost through the windshield and up onto my now crumpled-up hood.
“When I got out to give her a good cussing-out – which must be the thing to do in these circumstances, since the tattooed bruiser in the SUV, who as you can see looks a whole lot like Joseph Stalin only not near as friendly was rappeling down from his gas-guzzler to give me one too. Which he did, your honor, and it was a much meaner and more menacing cussing than I gave Suzy Cellphone there.”
I stopped there because the judge was holding up his hand. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
“The court is prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt, Ms. Masterson, and assume that you misheard the question and are answering a whole lot of questions the court never asked in the hopes that you might stumble upon the correct question. To save us both some time however, why don’t I repeat it? Why did you push the gentleman there into a ditch?”
“That’s exactly the question I am answering, your honor. But it won’t make much sense if you don’t have any background on the situation.”
I could tell by the way he smirked that he didn’t think it made a whole hell of a lot of sense even with the background information, and I had to admit he had a point.
“All right, so I’m cussing out Suzy Cellphone, Joe Stalin there is cussing – and threatening – me, when up walks this guy. ” And I turn to point to the guy who more than anybody was responsible for my being where I was. He was sitting in the front row of the court but he wasn’t paying any attention. He was gazing out the window, looking at something that commanded his full attention. Maybe they were already working on building my gallows out there, who knows.
“As you can see, he’s all scruffy and unshaven, and I have no idea where he came from, where his car was or what in the hell he wanted from me. I thought at first he might be homeless but you don’t get that kind of flawless skin living out on the street and he didn’t talk like a homeless guy or smell like one either.”
The judge held up one finger and brought it crashing down onto his desk or pulpit or whatever you call that thing he sits behind. And although I don’t speak sign language I knew he meant “Get to the point.”
“So he walks up from out of nowhere in the middle of all this cussing and blaming that’s going on and he starts apologizing. For what I have no idea. But he’s all like, ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.’ At first I ignored him. I mean with the day I’m having the last thing I need is some nutjob with flawless features to go blithering on about how he somehow caused this accident even though as far as I can tell he doesn’t even have a car. Then the light goes on, and I think I know who he might be.
“But I don’t get a chance to ask him cuz right then Stalin there grabbed my shoulder – the sore one I told you about – and spun me back around cuz he evidently has a strong preference for spewing profanity in my face rather than at the back of my head. Suzy cellphone was still chatting all this time, by the way, and I think we all assumed that she was talking to the police, until she goes, ‘Okay, Randy, I’ll see you tonight. I love you too’ and even makes this little kissy-kiss bye-bye sound.
“Well, I wanted to take that phone and shove it up – I mean, fling it somewhere, maybe through Josef’s back window or something. But I don’t. I show restraint and suggest her next call be to 911. Then I turn around to the homeless guy who’s still apologizing and I say, ‘Are you the guy who was driving the chicken truck?’
“And he goes ‘Chicken truck? What chicken truck?’
“And I go, ‘If you’re not the guy who caused this traffic jam, then who the hell are you?’ and he goes, ‘I’m Hershel, your guardian angel.’
“That was when I pushed him into the ditch and I’m sorry I did that, your honor. But as I think I’ve demonstrated, I was having a bad week and an even worse day, so I was in no mood for crazy talk.”
After that they put Hershel or whatever his name was up on the stand. He said no, he wasn’t hurt, no, he didn’t want to press charges, what he meant when he said he was a guardian angel was that he was a good Samaritan and he wanted to see if he could help in any way.
He was charming as all hell and the judge not only bought it, but it seemed to imbue him with such goodwill toward man that he let us all go, he even dismissed the ticket the cop had given me for driving without my license, though he did give me a stern warning that if was caught driving without it in my possession again the sentence he would give me give would curl my hair even worse than it already had been.
By the time we got out of the courtroom it was after eleven o’clock. My meeting was long over. So too was my career probably, since my cellphone was still at home in my purse and I never even called to explain to my boss why I wasn’t there.
I was standing outside at the curb waiting for a trusting cabdriver to come by, one who looked like he would believe me when I told him that although I had no money I would be able to pay him when we got to my house, when homeless Hershel walked up beside me.
“I really am sorry about everything that happened today,” he said.
“Is that all you know how to say? ‘I’m sorry’?”
He smiled. “No, I also know how to say ‘Can I buy you a cup of coffee or some lunch to make up for the trouble I’ve caused.’ ”
I was about to point out that he had only caused a small percentage of my woes, but I felt like I had used up my quota of verbiage for the week on the judge – who didn’t appreciate it half as much as he appreciated the few honeyed words from Hershel – and besides, all I wanted to do was get home to an overflowing bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream and the Discovery Channel. I did not want any more penitent palaver with this lunatic.
“Look, I’m too tired to be polite, so I’ll just tell you flat out I don’t like coffee and I don’t like you. So
Thursday, October 16, 2008
One of my favorite websites is Bookmooch.com, where you can trade books you don't want for books you do. I've gotten some pretty cool stuff there and for the most part the fact that the books have been previously enjoyed is not a problem, but I really do not want a used copy of this book.
Sunday, October 05, 2008
Shorpy
One of my favorite blogs is Shorpy: The 100-year Photo Blog, which as you might guess shows rare pictures from the last century of our history -- fascinating pictures. I'm mostly interested in stuff from the 1920's because that's an era I'm obsessed with, but I can always find something there of interest. Here's a shot of Charleston SC's King Street in 1915:
Doesn't look all that different today. Not quite as many Model T's maybe, and they did pave over those railroad tracks that ran down the middle of the road -- How did that work anyway? having a train drive down the middle of your busiest street?
Doesn't look all that different today. Not quite as many Model T's maybe, and they did pave over those railroad tracks that ran down the middle of the road -- How did that work anyway? having a train drive down the middle of your busiest street?
Friday, October 03, 2008
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Thanks, Mr. Kettle
This is the funniest thing I've seen in a long time. (And by funny I mean pathetic.)
Kid Rock lecturing us about how bad it is to steal music.
Kid Damn Rock.
I'll wait for a second or two while that sinks in. Mr. Rock, whose whole career is based on ripping off other artists' styles, and his biggest hit ever "All Summer Long" steals from Lynyrd Skynyrd and Warren Zevon. (And don't call it sampling, as Kid himself would say, "Stealing is stealing.")
Go away, Kid, your fifteen minutes are up.
Kid Rock lecturing us about how bad it is to steal music.
Kid Damn Rock.
I'll wait for a second or two while that sinks in. Mr. Rock, whose whole career is based on ripping off other artists' styles, and his biggest hit ever "All Summer Long" steals from Lynyrd Skynyrd and Warren Zevon. (And don't call it sampling, as Kid himself would say, "Stealing is stealing.")
Go away, Kid, your fifteen minutes are up.
Monday, September 29, 2008
More books I've read in 2008
Kirby: King of Comics by Mark Evanier.I have to confess that even though I grew up reading those great silver age Marvel Comics, Jack Kirby was never my favorite artist. I couldn't get past some of his stylistic quirks, such as the square fingers. Then there was the fact that although nobody could draw alien technology and weaponry and crackling energy like Jack Kirby, his women were always, well, homely and square-fingered. And at that stage in my life I much preferred a pretty girl (like John Romita's Gwen Stacy or John Buscema's Shalla Bal) to any piece of machinery. Now that I know a little more about the history of comics I understand more about how Jack Kirby revolutionized the artform. Before Kirby, comics were flat and two-dimensional. Jack brought them to life and his characters and his action popped off the page. So many of the boundaries that he broke were copied by everybody who came after him that a punk kid like me didn't understand what a pioneer he was. And not only a pioneer but a helluva nice guy with no business acumen and who was too trusting of people and as a result he got screwed over by just about every company he worked for --- especially Marvel.
The Quitter by Harvey Pekar and Dean Haspiel. What can I say about Harvey Pekar? If you don't like him and find his comic series American Splendor to be a self-indulgent exercise in naval-gazing you're not going to like this graphic memoir of his school-age and early adult years. Me, I think what he does is pretty amazing, just by being more honest than most writers dare he can make his admittedly-pretty-boring life into compelling pieces of literature. Pekar has had a lot of great artists draw American Splendor but for my money Dean Haspiel is the best. Of course I'm a big fan of Haspiel and his ultra-romantic anti-hero Billy Dogma anyway.
They just don't come any cooler than Paul Newman -- a hella handsome guy who refused to play pretty boy roles, preferring to challenge himself with roles of oddballs, loners, losers and criminals. A guy who started selling his homemade salad dressing as a joke and ended up with a food corporation that gave 250 million dollars to charity. A guy who stayed married to the same woman for 50 years (the lovely Joanne Woodward) and who was such a staunch liberal that he made President Nixon's fabled Enemies List. (Newman always said this was his proudest achievement. ) When I asked him to sign a bookplate for the book he wrote with A.E. Hotchner about Newman's Own Foods Shameless Exploitation in Pursuit of the Common Good he graciously acceded. 
If you'd like to honor Paul Newman in the way he would have appreciated best click here.
If you'd like to honor Paul Newman in the way he would have appreciated best click here.
Friday, September 26, 2008
How great is Mark Twain?
Here is the American Library Association's list of most challenged authors 2007.
1) Robert Cormier
2) Peter Parnell and Justin Richardson
3) Mark Twain
4) Toni Morrison
5) Philip Pullman
6) Kevin Henkes
7) Lois Lowry
8) Chris Crutcher
9) Lauren Myracle
10) Joann Sfar
Mark Twain's been dead for 98 years and he still gets the bronze medal. (By the way, next week is Banned Books Week -- tell the book-burners (like Sarah Palin) to go to hell; read a banned book and buy one for a young person you love.)
1) Robert Cormier
2) Peter Parnell and Justin Richardson
3) Mark Twain
4) Toni Morrison
5) Philip Pullman
6) Kevin Henkes
7) Lois Lowry
8) Chris Crutcher
9) Lauren Myracle
10) Joann Sfar
Mark Twain's been dead for 98 years and he still gets the bronze medal. (By the way, next week is Banned Books Week -- tell the book-burners (like Sarah Palin) to go to hell; read a banned book and buy one for a young person you love.)
Monday, September 22, 2008
Potty talk
I don't know why this cracked me up but it did. My favorite thrift store is really good about checking out the electronics and other stuff they sell. They'll usually put a little notation on the price tag, something like "Works good" "Needs work" or something like that. But I guess they couldn't get any of their minimum-wage employees to take this in-home porta-potty for a test drive:
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Music
I think the Ipod I received for my fiftieth birthday was the best gift I've ever received. Certainly without it I would not have been able to lose all this weight -- 52 and a half pounds at last weigh-in, 171 down from 223.5 -- because I would not have been able to do all the workouts without the music to inspire me -- and not just the music; I love listening to podcasts like "This American Life" and "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" while I walk, and maybe something fitness-related like "The Fitcast" while lifting weights.
But mostly it's the music. And the rekindling of my love for that art form "the least disagreeable of all noises". I used to live for the music and even now something from the Ramones or David Bowie or Grand Funk Railroad can send me back in time quicker than anything H.G. Wells ever dreamed of. But over the years my passion cooled. Part of the reason was that I didn't have time or disposable income to devote to music, with a full-time job and a hectic family life. Part of the reason was the tinnitus which has robbed me of some of my hearing. (That ringing in my ears by the way is probably not entirely unrelated to my previous adoration of music -- take care of your ears, kids. Practice safe music) And part of the reason was either -- and I'm honestly not sure which -- I either got old as dirt or music started to suck.
Anyway, I got an Ipod and after filling it up with all my CDs and downloading all the old stuff I've bought before as LPs, 45s, CDs, cassettes, et cetera, I went looking for new music. And boy, did I find it -- the great Americana sounds of Reckless Kelly, the high energy pop-punk of We The Kings, the positive vibrations of Michael Franti and Spearhead that actually got me to do something I haven't done in over a decade -- buy a CD, this one and I recommend it highly -- and my latest obsession, the hard-to-describe 29-member Swedish glee-club slash rock band "I'm From Barcelona." I've also found some old stuff I was not familiar with -- I keep changing my workout music playlist, but right now the first song on there is "Saved" by Laverne Baker recorded in 1961 and beginning "I used to smoke; I used to drink; I used to smoke, drink and dance the hootchie-koo" all of which is true in my case, (albeit my hootchie-koo dancing was never that impressive.) I've also rediscovered how some of my old favorites can be re-considered as workout anthems. One of the lines that gets me pumping hard is "I'm gonna strut like a cock until I'm ninety-nine" from Grand Funk's "Walk Like a Man." Similarly the Raspberries' "Go All the Way" is no longer a power pop sex track. "Go All the Way" now means don't give up, finish your HIIT (High Intensity Interval Training).
And really, I probably take lyrics (and song titles) way too seriously, you know that Clash song that starts "You say you stand by your man / Tell me something I dont understand /You said you love me and thats a fact / Then you left me, said you felt trapped" and the chorus that goes "Did you stand by me? No, not at all". It's a great song, lots of energy, but I had to move it way down on my playlist because although these lines are never sung, the name of the song is "Train in Vain" and that's the last thing I want to do.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Now I've heard it all
Pretty much everyone has gotten used to the more compact me by now. Sometimes I'll run into someone I haven't seen in a long while and their surprise is always fun. As are the comments people make that prove they don't get it, i.e. "You better start eating again" when, as anyone who was paying attention would know, I eat all the time. I heard a new one today though. Somebody told me I needed to gain some weight back. That being thin was making me look older. It actually made sense when they explained it -- fat fills in all the wrinkles and now I've got nothing to fill them with.
Oh well, I'd rather be wrinkled than fat.
Oh well, I'd rather be wrinkled than fat.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Hooray for me
It's official. I weighed in at 172 today, which means I've lost 51 pounds this year -- well, 51 and a half to be exact. Which is pretty amazing considering I've trained myself for the most part -- and I have a lot to learn. (This morning the janitor at the gym corrected my form on the lat pulldown.) My brother who's been working out forever was going to help me train, but then he got back together with his girlfriend and evidently he can't do both. So anyway hooray for me!
It's weird cuz people at work ask me how I did it, how I've lost so much weight and when I tell them they don't believe me -- or maybe it's more accurate to say they don't hear me. They want to know if I'm starving myself or eating cabbage soup or something. And when I tell them I eat more now than I did when I was fat, you can see that it doesn't sink in. But it's true, I do eat more -- although I drink a lot less. And that's one of the great things about working out is it allows you to eat -- and I love to eat.
While I'm passing out hoorays, let me give one to Kim. My beautiful child-bride turns 40 today. Happy birthday, baby.
It's weird cuz people at work ask me how I did it, how I've lost so much weight and when I tell them they don't believe me -- or maybe it's more accurate to say they don't hear me. They want to know if I'm starving myself or eating cabbage soup or something. And when I tell them I eat more now than I did when I was fat, you can see that it doesn't sink in. But it's true, I do eat more -- although I drink a lot less. And that's one of the great things about working out is it allows you to eat -- and I love to eat.
While I'm passing out hoorays, let me give one to Kim. My beautiful child-bride turns 40 today. Happy birthday, baby.
Friday, September 05, 2008
Dear John McCain
How dumb do you think we are?
"Let me just offer an advance warning to the old, big-spending, do-nothing, me-first, country-second crowd: change is coming."
SENATOR JOHN MCCAIN, the Republican presidential nominee.
Try to fight off the Alzheimers, Johnny. The old, big-spending, do-nothing, me-first, country-second crowd is you -- well, you and your butt-buddy, George W. Get the fuck out of here, you crepuscular old fart.
"Let me just offer an advance warning to the old, big-spending, do-nothing, me-first, country-second crowd: change is coming."
SENATOR JOHN MCCAIN, the Republican presidential nominee.
Try to fight off the Alzheimers, Johnny. The old, big-spending, do-nothing, me-first, country-second crowd is you -- well, you and your butt-buddy, George W. Get the fuck out of here, you crepuscular old fart.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
God Bless You, Mary Ellen Baker!
I'm not going to kid you -- there was no way I was going to vote for John McCain no matter who he picked as his running mate. He could have picked Krishna and I wouldn't vote for them. I think George Bush and Karl Rove and eight years of them and their minions have pretty much ruined this once-great nation and brought us to the brink of World War III for no reason whatsoever, and John McCain has been way up Bush's ass the whole way, going so far as to say we should stay in Iraq for a hundred years if that's how long it takes us to shove democracy down their throats.
But picking Sarah Palin as his running mate made that impossibility even more impossible. Now not only would hell have to freeze over but Satan would have to join the Ice Follies. It's bad enough that she's a hypocrite; I expect that from Republicans. She's a gun nut and a religious fascist. Again, not too far from the party line. But the one thing I can never forgive, the one thing that in my mind brands you as the absolute lowest form of life: She's a book-burner.
From Time.com:
(A)s mayor, Palin continued to inject religious beliefs into her policy at times. "She asked the library how she could go about banning books," he says, because some voters thought they had inappropriate language in them. "The librarian was aghast." That woman, Mary Ellen Baker, couldn't be reached for comment, but news reports from the time show that Palin had threatened to fire Baker for not giving "full support" to the mayor.
Please everybody let's send this idiot back to the frozen North.
But picking Sarah Palin as his running mate made that impossibility even more impossible. Now not only would hell have to freeze over but Satan would have to join the Ice Follies. It's bad enough that she's a hypocrite; I expect that from Republicans. She's a gun nut and a religious fascist. Again, not too far from the party line. But the one thing I can never forgive, the one thing that in my mind brands you as the absolute lowest form of life: She's a book-burner.
From Time.com:
(A)s mayor, Palin continued to inject religious beliefs into her policy at times. "She asked the library how she could go about banning books," he says, because some voters thought they had inappropriate language in them. "The librarian was aghast." That woman, Mary Ellen Baker, couldn't be reached for comment, but news reports from the time show that Palin had threatened to fire Baker for not giving "full support" to the mayor.
Please everybody let's send this idiot back to the frozen North.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
I don't know if the stereotype of the dumb jock is valid or not, but ever since I've been working out I've been doing significantly less reading. Part of it is just temporal logistics -- I only have so much time and that time is mostly used for walking and weight-lifting now. But that's not the whole story, though. I do have some time to read but when I do I don't enjoy it very much and I usually end up turning on the television instead. There's just so much great stuff on these days -- Gavin and Stacy, Reaper, Pushing Daisies, The Biggest Loser and my favorite of all which has its 2-hour season premiere tonight (and it's kinda scary how excited I am) -- Bones. People who have known me for a long time and never seen me watch anything other than romantic comedies are surprised I like this show. My wife can't believe it. But despite the presence of serial killers and rotting corpses it's actually very funny and very romantic. The writing and acting are second to none and Emily Deschanel is just stunningly gorgeous.
Check it out.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
I think it's time I get serious about writing again, although I'm not sure how I'm going to manage that since I'm still serious about fitness and intend to remain so, I still have two teenagers yet to raise and God knows that's serious business. And then there's that dead end job of mine, which is not that serious but it is time-consuming.
It seems to me that the first thing I need to do to get back into writing is to declutter my office and my hard drive. That may be an excuse to postpone writing, those things are sneaky, but it feels important. Here is a poem that I found amongst my Microsoft Word documents. It's by Samuel Hazo; I have no idea where I found it, but I can see why I kept it.
The Nearness That Is All
by Samuel Hazo
Love's what Shakespeare never
said by saying, "You have
bereft me of all words, lady."
Love is the man who siphoned
phlegm from his ill wife's throat
three times a day for seven
years.
Love's what the Arabs
mean when they bless those
with children: "May God keep them
for you."
Or why a mother
whispers to her suckling, "May you
bury me."
Love's how the ten-year
widow speaks of her buried
husband in the present tense.
Love lets the man with one leg
and seven children envy no man
living and none dead.
Love
leaves no one alone but, oh,
lonely, lonelier, loneliest
at midnight in another country.
Love is jealousy's mother
and father.
Love's how death
creates a different nearness
but kills nothing.
Love
makes lovers rise from each
loving wanting more.
Love
says impossibility's possible
always.
Love saddens glad
days for no bad reason.
Love gladdens sad days
for no good reason.
Love
mocks equivalence.
Love is.
It seems to me that the first thing I need to do to get back into writing is to declutter my office and my hard drive. That may be an excuse to postpone writing, those things are sneaky, but it feels important. Here is a poem that I found amongst my Microsoft Word documents. It's by Samuel Hazo; I have no idea where I found it, but I can see why I kept it.
The Nearness That Is All
by Samuel Hazo
Love's what Shakespeare never
said by saying, "You have
bereft me of all words, lady."
Love is the man who siphoned
phlegm from his ill wife's throat
three times a day for seven
years.
Love's what the Arabs
mean when they bless those
with children: "May God keep them
for you."
Or why a mother
whispers to her suckling, "May you
bury me."
Love's how the ten-year
widow speaks of her buried
husband in the present tense.
Love lets the man with one leg
and seven children envy no man
living and none dead.
Love
leaves no one alone but, oh,
lonely, lonelier, loneliest
at midnight in another country.
Love is jealousy's mother
and father.
Love's how death
creates a different nearness
but kills nothing.
Love
makes lovers rise from each
loving wanting more.
Love
says impossibility's possible
always.
Love saddens glad
days for no bad reason.
Love gladdens sad days
for no good reason.
Love
mocks equivalence.
Love is.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Happy Anniversary
When Kim and I got married in 1993 between us we had four divorces, three kids (and another on the way), two student loans but only one job. We had only known each other for 11 months, not long enough to know that we were complete opposites in so many ways. And I had a mullet. So understandably there were people who thought it wouldn't last.
But it has not only lasted but flourished. Sometimes we wonder why it is that we have such a happy marriage. Is there one right person -- a soul mate -- and if you find him or her does everything fall into place? Or is it because we've learned from previous relationships and previous mistakes and patterns of behavior? Is it because at a certain point we both decided we would rather make each other laugh than be right and prove some point?
Or maybe it was because we picked a special day to get married. August 29th certainly seems like a magical date to me. People say that August is the only month without a holiday in it, but it doesn't seem that way to me. I have never understood how people can forget their anniversary. I start looking forward to mine in February.
So maybe that's it. Maybe August 29th is a magical marriage day. It's certainly a special day this year, more special than usual. It's our 15th anniversary -- which is the crystal anniversary. And we are celebrating tonight with a huge party for a couple hundred friends, it will be catered with gourmet food and lots of beer and wine. There will be a DJ and dancing and professional photographers there to document the event.
But this party is not for us. It's for my oldest daughter Leah who is getting married today. I have to admit when she first said she wanted to get married on our anniversary I wished she would have chosen another day. It was a selfish thought. I wanted that day to just always be about nothing but me and Kim. But now I realize what a compliment it is to us and I'm glad she chose this day to tie the knot. It's a magical day -- doubly so now. And Leah has found the right guy. As long as they remember it's better to laugh than win an argument I have no doubts that there's will be a long and happy union.
Happy anniversary, Kim. And thank you for 15 wonderful years.
And happy anniversary, Leah and John. Here's wishing you many more.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
collecting
I've put my collecting on hiatus. I haven't bought any comic books for months. I'm using my postcards to enter Games World of Puzzles contests. And I haven't been sending off for any autographs either. But I haven't given wondering when a celebrity dies if I already have his or her signature. I went 1 for 2 lately. I didn't have Bernie Mac's but I did have Isaac Hayes.
The reason for my change of habits is the fact that my daughter is getting married in (OMG!) less than two weeks, and you would not believe how much that costs. I still collect stuff that doesn't cost anything like literary references to the song "MacArthur Park" (although I haven't seen any of those around lately either) and retronyms. A retronym for those of you who don't know is a new word for an old thing, a word that didn't need to exist until advances in technology mandated it. "Rotary phone" is a retronym. (Before push button phones they were just called telephones.) As are "push mower" and "manual transmission." I found one just the other day. Someone made reference to a "printzine" (as opposed to an e-zine.) Back in my day we just called them magazines.
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
We Have a Winner
Well, the Big Beer Belt Buckle giveaway is over and the Random Number Generator has spoken, our winner is Jenny. Congratulations and thanks to all who entered. I will definitely do this again.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Free stuff
Well, I just found out that this is Bloggy Giveaway Carnival time, when generous bloggers give stuff away for free. Sounds like fun. I'm going to give away a genuine Guinness belt buckle (that would be the bottom buckle on this tower of buckles. All you have to do is leave a comment wherein you mention your favorite beer -- or if you don't like beer leave a comment explaining why you want a beer buckle even though you're not a beer drinker. After midnight on August 1st. one winner will be selected at random.
Good luck.
This is the sign out in front of a bar a few miles down the road from my house, and every time I pass it I wonder what the name of the place is supposed to be. Is it really "Ally" Cats? as in "All the cats in this club are comrades" or did the owner mean to call it "Alley Cats" and, being the product of South Carolina public schools, was unable to successfully spell "Alley"? But then shouldn't the sign-maker have said something like, "Um, that's not really how you spell "alley." Or is this some kooky hip-hop spelling like "Boyz" or "Sk8er"?
I'm going to call them and see what they say when they answer the phone. I'll just mumble something about a wrong number and hang up afterwards.
Oh, wouldn't you know it, they're not in the phone book.
Or maybe I'm just now looking in the right place. I looked under "Alley" and "Ally". Is there another way to misspell "alley"?
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
To my friends and co-workers
Most of y'all know I like comic books. Even if we've never had a discussion about graphic novels or the genius of Alan Moore, you've see the toys and posters scattered around my workplace and the Green Lantern tattoo on my finger. And that's fine, I'm not ashamed. If you want to talk about sequential art or what a great collection you had as a kid before your mom made you throw them out, I'm right there.
But why in the name of Krypton do y'all assume that because I like reading comic books that automatically means whenever a new superhero movie comes that means I'll be standing in line with my cape and mask on waiting to buy a ticket. Haven't I explained to y'all over and over that I don't love movies? That if I get a couple hours free time I'd rather read a book or go for a walk? And if I do go to a movie it probably won't be some overblown dumbed-down Hollywooded-up desecration of something I hold dear?
Why? Why? Why?
Y'all don't even ask me if I'm going to see "Dark Knight" (or "Iron Man" or "Hulk" or "Hellboy" or whatever) you say, "Have you seen "Dark Knight" (or "Iron Man") yet?" or "How did you like "Hulk"?" Even though I explained to y'all last summer when the questions were all about how I liked "Fantastic Four 2" and "Spider-Man 3" that I haven't seen those movies, and have neither plans nor desire to see them.
When you push it and ask what's my favorite comic book movie, I say "American Splendor" because it is, by far. But you just look at me blankly. When I elaborate and say, "Oh, you mean superhero comic book movie? The last one of those I liked was "Superman 2" back in 1978 or whenever it was."
So to sum up, I do not like superhero comic book movies, I do not like them in a box or with a fox, I do not like them, Sam I Am.
So stop asking.
And now part two: (Warning: Those of you who still cannot fathom how someone could love reading comic books but not like viewing movies based on comic books should read no further. This next part will make your brain explode.)
There are at least two more blockbuster movies coming out this year "Watchmen" and "The Spirit." Both of these are based on comic books, and not just any comic books but two of the best ever. I love both of these books and not only will I NOT be going to see the movie, I may be picketing outside the theater, protesting that these movies should not have been made. Why wouldn't I go see movies based on books I love?
One reason: They're going to suck.
How do I know they're going to suck?
Two reasons: 1.) Past experience. Hollywood has already ruined several of Alan Moore's works -- "The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen" "From Hell" "V For Vendetta" and there is no reason to believe they'll do any better with his magnum opus "Watchmen." Frank Miller is associated with "The Spirit" and Miller is a tasteless, talentless idjit, and I hope he stays in Hollywood and out of comics, since Hollywood is already morally and creatively bankrupt and he can do less damage there.
2.) (And this gets right to the heart of that matter) Some books don't have to be made into movies, in fact shouldn't be. They're meant to be read and something essential is lost when they are viewed. One of the most respected and influential books of the 20th century is "The Catcher in the Rye" but it's never been filmed. Why? Because it's unfilmable and Jerome David Salinger is smart enough to realize that. We're meant to commune with Holden Caulfield one on one via the printed word, not in a sticky seat with a bunch of strangers talking on their cell phones, via the moving picture. If Hollywood made a movie of "Catcher" they'd have to turn Holden into a gangster or a detective, something they understand. And it would be a disaster -- like "Watchmen."
But why in the name of Krypton do y'all assume that because I like reading comic books that automatically means whenever a new superhero movie comes that means I'll be standing in line with my cape and mask on waiting to buy a ticket. Haven't I explained to y'all over and over that I don't love movies? That if I get a couple hours free time I'd rather read a book or go for a walk? And if I do go to a movie it probably won't be some overblown dumbed-down Hollywooded-up desecration of something I hold dear?
Why? Why? Why?
Y'all don't even ask me if I'm going to see "Dark Knight" (or "Iron Man" or "Hulk" or "Hellboy" or whatever) you say, "Have you seen "Dark Knight" (or "Iron Man") yet?" or "How did you like "Hulk"?" Even though I explained to y'all last summer when the questions were all about how I liked "Fantastic Four 2" and "Spider-Man 3" that I haven't seen those movies, and have neither plans nor desire to see them.
When you push it and ask what's my favorite comic book movie, I say "American Splendor" because it is, by far. But you just look at me blankly. When I elaborate and say, "Oh, you mean superhero comic book movie? The last one of those I liked was "Superman 2" back in 1978 or whenever it was."
So to sum up, I do not like superhero comic book movies, I do not like them in a box or with a fox, I do not like them, Sam I Am.
So stop asking.
And now part two: (Warning: Those of you who still cannot fathom how someone could love reading comic books but not like viewing movies based on comic books should read no further. This next part will make your brain explode.)
There are at least two more blockbuster movies coming out this year "Watchmen" and "The Spirit." Both of these are based on comic books, and not just any comic books but two of the best ever. I love both of these books and not only will I NOT be going to see the movie, I may be picketing outside the theater, protesting that these movies should not have been made. Why wouldn't I go see movies based on books I love?
One reason: They're going to suck.
How do I know they're going to suck?
Two reasons: 1.) Past experience. Hollywood has already ruined several of Alan Moore's works -- "The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen" "From Hell" "V For Vendetta" and there is no reason to believe they'll do any better with his magnum opus "Watchmen." Frank Miller is associated with "The Spirit" and Miller is a tasteless, talentless idjit, and I hope he stays in Hollywood and out of comics, since Hollywood is already morally and creatively bankrupt and he can do less damage there.
2.) (And this gets right to the heart of that matter) Some books don't have to be made into movies, in fact shouldn't be. They're meant to be read and something essential is lost when they are viewed. One of the most respected and influential books of the 20th century is "The Catcher in the Rye" but it's never been filmed. Why? Because it's unfilmable and Jerome David Salinger is smart enough to realize that. We're meant to commune with Holden Caulfield one on one via the printed word, not in a sticky seat with a bunch of strangers talking on their cell phones, via the moving picture. If Hollywood made a movie of "Catcher" they'd have to turn Holden into a gangster or a detective, something they understand. And it would be a disaster -- like "Watchmen."
Sunday, July 06, 2008
The Carlin Column
This is my new column for Country Standard Time Magazine:
CARLIN ON COUNTRY
The great thing about having a column is that you can talk about whatever it is you want to talk about as long as you can tie it however tangentially to the subject at hand, which in this case is country music.
But right now I want to talk about George Carlin, who recently passed away at the age of 71. Carlin was a genius, a real hero of mine, one of the only people I think can mentioned in the same breath as Lenny Bruce and Mark Twain. He was fearless and he did what so few comics do – he talked about real issues, how messed up things are – and he did it in a way that made you laugh – albeit sometimes ruefully.
So all I have to do is listen to all his old albums, find a reference to country music and tie it all together.
Okay, I’m back, I’ve had my thoughts provoked and my ribs tickled by lines like:
Let a smile be your umbrella, and you'll end up with a face full of rain.
And:
Why is the man (or woman) who invests all your money called a broker?
And:
The IQ and the life expectancy of the average American recently passed each other going in opposite directions.
But nothing about country music. I even went back and watched most of Carlin’s HBO shows and got to relive him talking about the difference between baseball and football, and was amazed again at how seemingly effortlessly and amusingly he want right to the heart of why I love the national pastime:
“Football has hitting, clipping, spearing, piling on, personal fouls, late hitting and unnecessary roughness.
“Baseball has the sacrifice.
“In baseball, during the game, in the stands, there's kind of a picnic feeling; emotions may run high or low, but there's not too much unpleasantness.
“In football, during the game in the stands, you can be sure that at least twenty-seven times you're capable of taking the life of a fellow human being.
I even found some evidence that Carlin was more romantic than he gets credit for:
Sex without love has its place, and it's pretty cool, but when you have it hand in hand with deep commitment and respect and caring, it's nine thousand times better.
But again, nothing about country music. I reread his books like "Napalm and Silly Putty" and "When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops?" Nothing on country music. A Google search came up fruitless too. (Although I did learn that some extreme fundamentalist Christians picketed outside Carlin’s funeral, something that I know would have pleased him immensely.) Just when I was afraid I was going to have to give up and talk about something other than the brilliant comedian I wanted to talk about, I stumbled across the January 1982 issue of Playboy magazine. Why did I save that? No, not because of the fulsome charms of Miss January, but because there’s an interview with George Carlin. And in it he talks about country music, and as he did with most every other topic he touched on, had some profound things to say on the subject:
PLAYBOY: Did you ever get into country music?
CARLIN: Oh, I loved real country music. Again, not the kind they manufacture in Nashville. I loved bluegrass and the real country people, you know, like Bill Monroe and Hank Williams. . . I love those strains of stark reality: hopelessness, sorrow, broken love, death. Like authentic R&B, authentic country music speaks for a people, and the similarities and differences between the two forms have always fascinated me. . . The freedom that a black expresses by merely walking down the street is even more evident when he sings onstage. By contrast, the white Protestant Southern country man singing onstage barely moves his body. . . But the lyrics those two men will write are precisely the opposite. The black man sings in symbolic terms about jelly rolls and sugar pies, while the white man tells you exactly what's on his mind. "Ohhh, a truck ran over my baaa-by in the ro-o-o-ad." It's a marvelous paradox that tells us so much about those two cultures.
I’ve changed my mind about one thing. Sometimes the best part of writing a column is doing the research.
CARLIN ON COUNTRY
The great thing about having a column is that you can talk about whatever it is you want to talk about as long as you can tie it however tangentially to the subject at hand, which in this case is country music.
But right now I want to talk about George Carlin, who recently passed away at the age of 71. Carlin was a genius, a real hero of mine, one of the only people I think can mentioned in the same breath as Lenny Bruce and Mark Twain. He was fearless and he did what so few comics do – he talked about real issues, how messed up things are – and he did it in a way that made you laugh – albeit sometimes ruefully.
So all I have to do is listen to all his old albums, find a reference to country music and tie it all together.
Okay, I’m back, I’ve had my thoughts provoked and my ribs tickled by lines like:
Let a smile be your umbrella, and you'll end up with a face full of rain.
And:
Why is the man (or woman) who invests all your money called a broker?
And:
The IQ and the life expectancy of the average American recently passed each other going in opposite directions.
But nothing about country music. I even went back and watched most of Carlin’s HBO shows and got to relive him talking about the difference between baseball and football, and was amazed again at how seemingly effortlessly and amusingly he want right to the heart of why I love the national pastime:
“Football has hitting, clipping, spearing, piling on, personal fouls, late hitting and unnecessary roughness.
“Baseball has the sacrifice.
“In baseball, during the game, in the stands, there's kind of a picnic feeling; emotions may run high or low, but there's not too much unpleasantness.
“In football, during the game in the stands, you can be sure that at least twenty-seven times you're capable of taking the life of a fellow human being.
I even found some evidence that Carlin was more romantic than he gets credit for:
Sex without love has its place, and it's pretty cool, but when you have it hand in hand with deep commitment and respect and caring, it's nine thousand times better.
But again, nothing about country music. I reread his books like "Napalm and Silly Putty" and "When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops?" Nothing on country music. A Google search came up fruitless too. (Although I did learn that some extreme fundamentalist Christians picketed outside Carlin’s funeral, something that I know would have pleased him immensely.) Just when I was afraid I was going to have to give up and talk about something other than the brilliant comedian I wanted to talk about, I stumbled across the January 1982 issue of Playboy magazine. Why did I save that? No, not because of the fulsome charms of Miss January, but because there’s an interview with George Carlin. And in it he talks about country music, and as he did with most every other topic he touched on, had some profound things to say on the subject:
PLAYBOY: Did you ever get into country music?
CARLIN: Oh, I loved real country music. Again, not the kind they manufacture in Nashville. I loved bluegrass and the real country people, you know, like Bill Monroe and Hank Williams. . . I love those strains of stark reality: hopelessness, sorrow, broken love, death. Like authentic R&B, authentic country music speaks for a people, and the similarities and differences between the two forms have always fascinated me. . . The freedom that a black expresses by merely walking down the street is even more evident when he sings onstage. By contrast, the white Protestant Southern country man singing onstage barely moves his body. . . But the lyrics those two men will write are precisely the opposite. The black man sings in symbolic terms about jelly rolls and sugar pies, while the white man tells you exactly what's on his mind. "Ohhh, a truck ran over my baaa-by in the ro-o-o-ad." It's a marvelous paradox that tells us so much about those two cultures.
I’ve changed my mind about one thing. Sometimes the best part of writing a column is doing the research.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Blast From the Past
Although I'm sure you can't tell by the sporadic blogging here, but I used to be a very faithful journal keeper, wrote every day for about ten years. Lately I've been rereading some of the older ones. It's a lot of fun reading about when the kids were still cute and still liked us, and about things that happened that would otherwise be lost in the murky mists of time. And then there are the ones that I cringe when I read cuz I can't believe I was ever that dense. Take this entry for example. You would not believe how much I've learned about marriage, women and conversation since this happened. (Annotations from the modern me in red)
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 1ST 1995
On the third day of our third year of marriage Kim and I got into a little tiff -- we never fight we just tiff -- it was a fairly typical one for us -- in fact an almost word-for-word clone of one a couple of weeks ago.
Here, recorded for posterity, only slightly one-sided, is what happened.
I returned from the library, my wife, who had been a bit beneath the weather, was watching TV, specifically "The Young and the Restless." I said, "How's that girl?"
She said, "What girl?"
I pointed at her and said, "That girl!"
She said, "I'm not Marlo Thomas." (There are lots of places in this exchange where I could have prevented this from becoming unpleasant. This is probably the first. I should have just laughed at the joke.)
I said, "I'm surprised you're familiar with that show. It must have gone off the air in 1971, you were only three." (This is probably the second. At the time I was still inordinately proud of my wife's youth, but sometimes trying to express that pride could come off as insulting.)
She said, "Did it last that long?"
I walked into our bedroom, retrieved a reference book, looked it up, went back into the living room and said:
"Well, I was close, it actually lasted until 1972." (And that is definitely the third. What an annoying know-it-all. I'm still a know-it-all, that hasn't changed. But I'm a much quieter know-it-all now.)
Or started to say that. Kim held up one hand that meant either "Shut up" "Go away" or "Go away and shut up."
This upset me because she has said that "As The World Turns" is the only soap opera she cares about, and we had this exact same fight -- I mean tiff -- during the "Young and the Restless" a while back. Then she said the reason she told me to be quiet was because the character was buying a wedding ring. Nobody was buying a ring today. (And here is where the cringing really gets intense. This guy here is really in need of a clue.)
I said, "I hope you come to me and say 'How come you don't talk to me anymore?' and I'll say, 'I tried.' " (Crrrrringe)
And things went downhill from there. All patched up now though.
I read this to Kim the other night, and she said, "Well, we've been together for fifteen years and so far I've never been tempted to ask how come you don't talk to me." You can probably figure out why.
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 1ST 1995
On the third day of our third year of marriage Kim and I got into a little tiff -- we never fight we just tiff -- it was a fairly typical one for us -- in fact an almost word-for-word clone of one a couple of weeks ago.
Here, recorded for posterity, only slightly one-sided, is what happened.
I returned from the library, my wife, who had been a bit beneath the weather, was watching TV, specifically "The Young and the Restless." I said, "How's that girl?"
She said, "What girl?"
I pointed at her and said, "That girl!"
She said, "I'm not Marlo Thomas." (There are lots of places in this exchange where I could have prevented this from becoming unpleasant. This is probably the first. I should have just laughed at the joke.)
I said, "I'm surprised you're familiar with that show. It must have gone off the air in 1971, you were only three." (This is probably the second. At the time I was still inordinately proud of my wife's youth, but sometimes trying to express that pride could come off as insulting.)
She said, "Did it last that long?"
I walked into our bedroom, retrieved a reference book, looked it up, went back into the living room and said:
"Well, I was close, it actually lasted until 1972." (And that is definitely the third. What an annoying know-it-all. I'm still a know-it-all, that hasn't changed. But I'm a much quieter know-it-all now.)
Or started to say that. Kim held up one hand that meant either "Shut up" "Go away" or "Go away and shut up."
This upset me because she has said that "As The World Turns" is the only soap opera she cares about, and we had this exact same fight -- I mean tiff -- during the "Young and the Restless" a while back. Then she said the reason she told me to be quiet was because the character was buying a wedding ring. Nobody was buying a ring today. (And here is where the cringing really gets intense. This guy here is really in need of a clue.)
I said, "I hope you come to me and say 'How come you don't talk to me anymore?' and I'll say, 'I tried.' " (Crrrrringe)
And things went downhill from there. All patched up now though.
I read this to Kim the other night, and she said, "Well, we've been together for fifteen years and so far I've never been tempted to ask how come you don't talk to me." You can probably figure out why.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
eBay
My living spaces have gotten kind of cluttered lately and so I'm going through all my stuff and weeding out everything I don't love. Some of it's going to Goodwill, some of it in the trash and some of it is going up on eBay. I've been selling on eBay for a while now (574 transactions, 100 per cent positive feedback) and I feel like I know what's going to sell there, but I am constantly surprised -- pleasantly and unpleasantly.
I had some 1960's postcards from Africa that I inherited from my grandmother that I thought would do well at auction -- No matter what the economy does, boobies are always popular, and the "vintage" is a big draw too, but I got less than a dollar apiece for them:
Then there were a couple back issues of a magazine that I almost dropped off at Goodwill, but I'm glad I didn't.
I had some 1960's postcards from Africa that I inherited from my grandmother that I thought would do well at auction -- No matter what the economy does, boobies are always popular, and the "vintage" is a big draw too, but I got less than a dollar apiece for them:
Then there were a couple back issues of a magazine that I almost dropped off at Goodwill, but I'm glad I didn't.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
What Carlin Learned
It seems like everybody is posting "The Seven Words You Can't Say on Television" to honor George Carlin, but I don't think that's one of his best and besides now there's nothing you can't say on television. I'd rather draw your attention to this article from Esquire Magazine 2001 wherein George Carlin discusses what he's learned from his 64 years on earth:
I was in my mother's belly as she sat in the waiting room of the abortionist's office. Dr. Sunshine was his code name. I was fifty feet from the drainpipe, and she saw a painting on the wall that reminded her of her mother, who had recently died. She took that as a sign to have the baby. That's what I call luck.
My father drank and was a bully. For the first five years of my brother's life, my father beat him with a leather-heeled slipper. Had I been subjected to that kind of treatment, all bets are off. His absence saved my life.
My mother had great executive-secretarial jobs in the advertising business and raised two boys during the Second World War. She used to say, "I make a man's salary." That's heroism.
I'm sure Hitler was great with his family.
I used to collect the most colorful curses I heard and write them down. I actually carried in my wallet things like "kraut cunt" and "burly loudmouth cocksucker" and "longhair fucking music prick," which was a thing Mikey Flynn yelled at a Juilliard student that he was kicking in the head.
I don't like authority and regulation, and I do my best to disrespect it, but I do that for myself. It's self-expression only.
Sex without love has its place, and it's pretty cool, but when you have it hand in hand with deep commitment and respect and caring, it's nine thousand times better.
If it's morally wrong to kill anyone, then it's morally wrong to kill anyone. Period.
It's amazing to me that literacy isn't considered a right.
I was arrested for possession and cultivation of marijuana in the early '70s, and it was thrown out. The judge asked me how I felt about it, and I said, "I understand the law, and I want you to know I'll pay the fine, but I cannot guarantee I will not break this law again." He really chewed me out for that.
Censorship that comes from the outside assumes about people an inability to make reasoned choices.
The first thing they teach kids is that there's a God -- an invisible man in the sky who is watching what they do and who is displeased with some of it. There's no mystery why they start that with kids, because if you can get someone to believe that, you can add on anything you want.
I would die for the safety of the people I love.
I wish that we could measure how much the potential of the mind to expand has been stunted by television.
Because of my abuse of drugs, I neglected my business affairs and had large arrears with the IRS, and that took me eighteen to twenty years to dig out of. I did it honorably, and I don't begrudge them. I don't hate paying taxes, and I'm not angry at anyone, because I was complicit in it. But I'll tell you what it did for me: It made me a way better comedian. Because I had to stay out on the road and I couldn't pursue that movie career, which would have gone nowhere, and I became a really good comic and a really good writer.
I stopped voting when I stopped taking drugs. I believe both of those acts are closely related to delusional behavior.
There's no morality in business. It doesn't have a conscience. It has only the cash register. They'll sell you crappy things that you don't need, that don't work, that they won't stand behind. It's a glorified legal form of criminal behavior.
If everybody knew the truth about everybody else's thoughts, there would be way more murders.
There's nothing wrong with high taxes on high income.
Lenny Bruce opened all the doors, and people like Richard Pryor and I were able to walk through them.
Given the right reasons and the right two people, marriage is a wonderful way of experiencing your life.
I think that the assassinations of the Kennedys and Martin Luther King showed that all of the wishing and hoping and holding hands and humming and signing petitions and licking envelopes is a bit futile.
Blacks are deliberately kept down. Poor communities are deliberately underfunded.
I don't think people should get credit for being honest and brave. I think there's a lot of genetic shit going on there.
Someday they'll find a gene for putting on your overcoat.
There's a pulse in New York, even on the quietest street, on the quietest day. It's full of potential.
If there's ever a golden age of mankind, it will not include men over two hundred pounds beating children who are less than one hundred pounds, and it will not include the deliberate killing of people in a formal setting.
I did something in a previous life that must have been spectacularly good, because I'm getting paid in this life just magnificently, more than one would dare imagine or hope for.
I was in my mother's belly as she sat in the waiting room of the abortionist's office. Dr. Sunshine was his code name. I was fifty feet from the drainpipe, and she saw a painting on the wall that reminded her of her mother, who had recently died. She took that as a sign to have the baby. That's what I call luck.
My father drank and was a bully. For the first five years of my brother's life, my father beat him with a leather-heeled slipper. Had I been subjected to that kind of treatment, all bets are off. His absence saved my life.
My mother had great executive-secretarial jobs in the advertising business and raised two boys during the Second World War. She used to say, "I make a man's salary." That's heroism.
I'm sure Hitler was great with his family.
I used to collect the most colorful curses I heard and write them down. I actually carried in my wallet things like "kraut cunt" and "burly loudmouth cocksucker" and "longhair fucking music prick," which was a thing Mikey Flynn yelled at a Juilliard student that he was kicking in the head.
I don't like authority and regulation, and I do my best to disrespect it, but I do that for myself. It's self-expression only.
Sex without love has its place, and it's pretty cool, but when you have it hand in hand with deep commitment and respect and caring, it's nine thousand times better.
If it's morally wrong to kill anyone, then it's morally wrong to kill anyone. Period.
It's amazing to me that literacy isn't considered a right.
I was arrested for possession and cultivation of marijuana in the early '70s, and it was thrown out. The judge asked me how I felt about it, and I said, "I understand the law, and I want you to know I'll pay the fine, but I cannot guarantee I will not break this law again." He really chewed me out for that.
Censorship that comes from the outside assumes about people an inability to make reasoned choices.
The first thing they teach kids is that there's a God -- an invisible man in the sky who is watching what they do and who is displeased with some of it. There's no mystery why they start that with kids, because if you can get someone to believe that, you can add on anything you want.
I would die for the safety of the people I love.
I wish that we could measure how much the potential of the mind to expand has been stunted by television.
Because of my abuse of drugs, I neglected my business affairs and had large arrears with the IRS, and that took me eighteen to twenty years to dig out of. I did it honorably, and I don't begrudge them. I don't hate paying taxes, and I'm not angry at anyone, because I was complicit in it. But I'll tell you what it did for me: It made me a way better comedian. Because I had to stay out on the road and I couldn't pursue that movie career, which would have gone nowhere, and I became a really good comic and a really good writer.
I stopped voting when I stopped taking drugs. I believe both of those acts are closely related to delusional behavior.
There's no morality in business. It doesn't have a conscience. It has only the cash register. They'll sell you crappy things that you don't need, that don't work, that they won't stand behind. It's a glorified legal form of criminal behavior.
If everybody knew the truth about everybody else's thoughts, there would be way more murders.
There's nothing wrong with high taxes on high income.
Lenny Bruce opened all the doors, and people like Richard Pryor and I were able to walk through them.
Given the right reasons and the right two people, marriage is a wonderful way of experiencing your life.
I think that the assassinations of the Kennedys and Martin Luther King showed that all of the wishing and hoping and holding hands and humming and signing petitions and licking envelopes is a bit futile.
Blacks are deliberately kept down. Poor communities are deliberately underfunded.
I don't think people should get credit for being honest and brave. I think there's a lot of genetic shit going on there.
Someday they'll find a gene for putting on your overcoat.
There's a pulse in New York, even on the quietest street, on the quietest day. It's full of potential.
If there's ever a golden age of mankind, it will not include men over two hundred pounds beating children who are less than one hundred pounds, and it will not include the deliberate killing of people in a formal setting.
I did something in a previous life that must have been spectacularly good, because I'm getting paid in this life just magnificently, more than one would dare imagine or hope for.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Carlin as canary
Not a good morning at the gym. I was working on a new weight-lifting routine and I had some trouble with the Eastern European aspects -- specifically the Bulgarian split-squat (which looked really easily in the picture but proved damn near impossible in real-life) and the Romanian dead lift. I ran out of time before I could complete the workout and of course when I got out of the shower the only other dude in the locker room was completely blocking my locker.
But the worst thing was seeing on one of the televisions that George Carlin had died. I try to stay optimistic about the future of the USA but it's tough when this once-great nation has become a rogue state ruled by a nutjob who believes he was chosen by God when the truth is he serves another more crimson master. I always admired George Carlin for pointing out how screwed up things are and doing it in a way that made you laugh. But things are so screwed up now that when I saw the Carlin obit the first thing I thought was "We're all in big trouble. The canary in our cultural coal mine just died."
But the worst thing was seeing on one of the televisions that George Carlin had died. I try to stay optimistic about the future of the USA but it's tough when this once-great nation has become a rogue state ruled by a nutjob who believes he was chosen by God when the truth is he serves another more crimson master. I always admired George Carlin for pointing out how screwed up things are and doing it in a way that made you laugh. But things are so screwed up now that when I saw the Carlin obit the first thing I thought was "We're all in big trouble. The canary in our cultural coal mine just died."
Friday, June 20, 2008
Gym shorts
WHY I GO TO THE GYM
It's not because I love working out. In fact I mostly hate working out. But I love the way I feel after I work out. I love leaving the gym fresh, clean and invigorated. I love the feeling of knowing that, although the sun has just risen, the hardest part of my day is over. I love listening to Marianne Williamson on the radio on the way to the gym and to Dr. Oz or the XM Baseball channel when I leave the gym. And of course I love the results. I weighed in today at 179, which means I lost three pounds this past week and forty-four and a half pounds since January. And because I'm building muscle I know that the lost pounds are fat pounds.
WHAT I HATE ABOUT THE GYM (BESIDES WORKING OUT)
The gym is not a place I want to hang around. I want to get in, get my work done and get out. Not everybody feels the same way I do, of course. There's one guy at my gym who obviously comes just to hit on women. You can watch him when he comes out of the locker room. He has no workout plans other than to get beside the best looking unattached woman there and start a conversation. There are other guys who seem to enjoy standing around talking -- in the gym and also butt naked in the locker room. I've got the woman of my dreams and I have no interest in socializing with nude dudes. I always try to pick a locker away from everyone else so that I can have just enough room to attend to my gym bag business. Accordingly I pick out a locker that is surrounded by unlocked, unclaimed lockers. And inevitably when I get out of the shower there will be somebody right beside my locker with all his shit spread out so I've got nowhere to put my stuff even if I could get to my locker which I usually can't because the guy is always some OCD guy who is carefully folding his dirty gym clothes and hanging (I am not kidding) his towel up on a hanger.
WHY I WON'T BE JOINING BLUEFISH FITNESS
Well, I never actually considered joining, but they are right down the street from where I work, and they offered me a free 21-day trial membership, so I thought I'd take advantage of that -- even though I had some misgivings over how many times they used the word "upscale" in their brochure. So I went in for a tour. The first thing they showed me was their bright and cheery smoothie bar with wi-fi and big screen TVs. Again, I don't go to the gym to hang out, so money and space spent on this stuff instead of exercise equipment was strike one in my book -- strike two, actually, since the biggest TV was tuned to the devil's network Fox News; I quit a gym because all the cardio equipment faced that damn propaganda pit. The place didn't smell right either; I mean it didn't smell at all. A gym should smell like Lysol fighting for its life against the funk. Strike three. I asked about yoga classes and my guide said they were starting one, and not to worry it wasn't about religion and not-eating meat and other woo-woo out there stuff. In other words they're dumbing it down, ripping it out of its foundations, trivializing it. A big strike four, which is one more strike than anyone's allowed but I was still planning to use them for 21 days right up until the time I started reading the gym rules. Most of it was pretty standard stuff -- no jeans, you must have your ID, etc. But they did have a rule I've never seen before -- No Loud Grunting. I walked out. I had no choice. Grunting is an integral part of my workout. So is sweating and although I didn't finish reading their rules I'm sure they don't allow perspiration either.
Friday, May 16, 2008
The cynic and the idealist
I've gotten more cynical as I've gotten older, but not completely cynical. I try to keep my youthful idealism alive; I think it's important to do so. Which I think makes me different than most guys my age, who do everything they can to kill their inner idealist. And I can understand why they do that; if you believe that people are terrible, then it certainly makes it easier to read the morning paper without barfing up your breakfast. And you don't have that inner struggle like I do as the two sides of my personality battle for my opinion. I'm excited about the possibility of Barack Obama being our next president, but I'm scared too. I know when someone comes along promising change, the haters and the nutjobs come out of the woodwork. At our church they've been studying Eckhart Tolle's book "A New Earth" and a lot of people there seem to believe there's a new world coming and I'd like to believe that too, but I have a hard time genuinely believing that considering how much ignorance and narrow-mindedness and complacency I see every day.
But occasionally something comes along that banishes cynicism. A lot of the time for me it involves baseball. The story about the girl playing for Western Oregon University who hit a home run, injured her knee rounding first and the oppsing players from Central Washington University carrying her around the bases restored my faith in the basic beauty and nobility of the human spirit.
And I love this too. Check out the current standings in the American League East. The Rays of Tampa Bay are in first place and the once-mighty New York Yankees are in dead last. God's in his heaven and all's right with the world.
But occasionally something comes along that banishes cynicism. A lot of the time for me it involves baseball. The story about the girl playing for Western Oregon University who hit a home run, injured her knee rounding first and the oppsing players from Central Washington University carrying her around the bases restored my faith in the basic beauty and nobility of the human spirit.
And I love this too. Check out the current standings in the American League East. The Rays of Tampa Bay are in first place and the once-mighty New York Yankees are in dead last. God's in his heaven and all's right with the world.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
My workout playlist
So, I've modified my diet, been working out at the gym, take the stairs instead of the elevator and look for ways to walk and move more and as a result I've lost 28 pounds since January 7th, and I feel great about it. I look forward to my time in the gym even though it's hard work, and what keeps me going is the music on my Ipod. I can't imagine working out without music. (Or much worse, those people who read magazines while they're exercising; I love to read as much as the next guy, but if I'm concentrating on reading I'm not going as all out as I could be going.)
Anyway my "Workout" playlist is constantly being updated, songs no longer inspire me, something else will catch my ear and I'll give it a try, et cetera. But the one I've got now has been together for a while and I thought I'd take a look at it and see why.
First a word about my criteria. In the newest issue of Yoga Journal, there's an interview with a guy trying to "Americanize" yoga, and if that's not cringeworthy enough, he uses hip-hop music in his classes. When asked about some of the negative and mysogynist lyrics in those tunes, he says it's not important, people don't listen to the lyrics anyway. I do, and for me the lyrics have to be upbeat. They don't have to be romantic -- though that's a plus -- but they do have to be positive. It's also nice if they mention running or some type of physical exertion. And of course, there are always exceptions, if the beat's right or there's a certain je nais se quai that keeps me pumping away on the elliptical, it stays on the playlist. (Oh, and if anybody has any suggestions about songs to add, let me know.)
Ready? Here we go.
Don't Stop Believin' Journey (Corny, but inpirational. On days where I'm a little discouraged or tired, it's nice to be reminded right off the bat to keep the faith. )
What a Wonderful World Joey Ramone (Best of both worlds, overflowing with positivity and with a beat that defies you not to get moving.)
Rebel Rebel David Bowie (Like I said, things change all the time. But right now this is my favorite workout song -- and mostly for the beat not the lyrics, especially as a "handful of 'ludes" is not an example of performing-enhancing drugs. There was a time when I was a teenager that David Bowie was by far my favorite musician, so it's possible there's a little nostalgia involved with this one too. Whatever -- it works. Usually the first five minutes of my cardio workout is warm-up and five minutes is about how long the first two songs last, so when I have to get it going, Rebel Rebel is there to help me do so.)
Yesterday's Hero Bay City Rollers (Don't laugh, the Bay City Rollers never got a lot of respect stateside, but this one is very inspirational to an old dude trying to get back in shape:
We don't wanna BE! A yesterday's hero!
And yesterday's hero, is all that
We're gonna be if we don't get together!
Make a new plan and be constantly better!
All that we'll be if we don't get together NOW!
It's like a Men's Health article set to music.
Hot Corner The B-52s (This song is off their new comeback album, and I'm still not sure what it's about or if it's going to stay on the list. It does have some of the beehive-y feel of vintage B-52s, even if the title is a bit misleading. After all, it's not about playing third base. Ha-ha, a little baseball humor for y'all.)
Dude (Looks Like A Lady) Aerosmith (A hard-rocking tune from Steve Tyler and the guys. There aren't any dudes that look like ladies at my gym, but there is at least one lady who looks like a dude. She's actually an old friend of mine. By the way, did you know that this song was written about this particular dude?)
Save A Horse (Ride A Cowboy) Big & Rich (A lot of people who know what a country music traditionalist I am and how I think rap ruined rock and roll can't figure out why I love Big and Rich, who brought rap to country, so much. To them I quote Walt Whitman, "Do I contradict myself? Very well, I contradict myself. I am large; I contain multitudes" (Although, again, I am not as large as I was.) Even if I didn't love their music so much, I would still be a fan; I have been waiting a long time for someone to come along with the message "Love Everybody," and that's just what Big Kenny does. We'll hear from Big and Rich again before we hit the showers.
Check Yes Juliet We the Kings (I've written about this song before. It's just about perfect; second only to Rebel, Rebel as the perfect workout song. It's got high energy, the right amount of beats per minute, it's romantic, it mentions lacing up your shoes and running. What more could you ask for?)
Runaway Train Soul Asylum (I'm not sure how this one has stayed on the playlist so long. It does mention the word "run" or "runaway" anyway, but it's not very fast or upbeat (in any sense of the word). As an admirer of mixed metaphors, I love the first verse:
Call you up in the middle of the night
Like a firefly without a light
You were there like a slow torch burning
I was a key that could use a little turning
And as a fan of repitition passed off as rhyme, I enjoy the second verse as well:
So tired that I couldn't even sleep
So many secrets I couldn't keep
Promised myself I wouldn't weep
One more promise I couldn't keep
but not enough to keep the song. It's coming off or at least moving way farther down.)
No Surrender Bruce Springsteen (After slowing things down with Runaway Train, I need somebody to kick my ass and convince me to gear it up again. The Boss does just that.)
Everyone's In Love Will Kimbrough (A reiteration of me and Big Kenny's philosophy:
Everyone's in love with everyone
So don't you fret.
Everyone's in love with everyone
They just don't know it yet.
Could be a little faster for workout purposes, but the extra credit earned keeps it on the list.
I'm Still Here Paul Thorn ( I love Paul Thorn; this ex-boxer slash poet is the perfect combination of toughness and romanticism. At least one of his songs -- "Where Was I?" never fails to make me well with tears, but as in baseball there is no crying in the gym, so I go with this anthem of survival.
Go All the Way The Raspberries (Probably one of the most underrated rock bands ever. All they did was invent power pop -- later popularized by bands like Cheap Trick and Styx. I don't care how tired you are at this point, this erotic rock track will keep you running.)
We Got It Going On Bon Jovi with Big and Rich (See I told you Big and Rich would be back, and here they are with Bon Jovi. Great workout song.
I rarely get much past this on my workout but here are the other songs on my current playlist:
Janie's Got A Gun Aerosmith
Going Mobile The Who
Here I Go Again Whitesnake
Jeannie Needs a Shooter Warren Zevon
Don't Touch Me There The Tubes
On A Night Like This Trick Pony
I'll Be Your Shelter Taylor Dayne
The Pass Rush
Jessie's Girl 3:14 Rick Springfield Hits Of The 80's Alternative & Punk 14 3/31/2008 9:11 AM
Come and Get Your Love 5:00 Redbone The Essential Redbone Rock 11 3/31/2008 9:16 AM
We're a Happy Family 2:39 The Ramones Weird Tales of the Ramones Alternative 4 3/31/2008 9:19 AM
Mission Temple Fireworks Stand 3:33 Paul Thorn Mission Temple Fireworks Stand Country 8 4/10/2008 12:19 PM
Rise Up 3:48 Paul Thorn Mission Temple Fireworks Stand Country 4 3/31/2008 9:26 AM
Everybody Looks Good At The Starting Line 4:36 Paul Thorn Mission Temple Fireworks Stand Country 8 3/29/2008 5:48 PM
Green Grass and High Tides 9:46 The Outlaws Best of The Outlaws: Green Grass and High Tides Rock 5 3/31/2008 9:36 AM
The Slow Descent into Alcoholism 3:57 The New Pornographers Mass Romantic (Remastered) Alternative 16 3/31/2008 9:40 AM
I Melt With You 4:12 Modern English After the Snow Alternative 11 4/4/2008 5:41 PM
I Run for Life 4:24 Melissa Etheridge Melissa Etheridge: Greatest Hits - The Road Less Traveled Rock 5 4/4/2008 5:45 PM
The Angels 4:40 Melissa Etheridge Brave And Crazy Rock 5 4/4/2008 5:50 PM
Hang On Sloopy 3:54 The McCoys Hang on Sloopy - The Best of the McCoys Rock 100 20 4/4/2008 5:54 PM
I Feel Lucky 3:31 Mary Chapin Carpenter The Essential Mary Chapin Carpenter Pop 4 4/4/2008 6:01 PM
Shut Up And Kiss Me 3:41 Mary Chapin Carpenter The Essential Mary Chapin Carpenter Pop 4 3/16/2008 3:41 PM
Fire On the Mountain 3:55 The Marshall Tucker Band Searchin' for a Rainbow Rock 9 4/4/2008 6:06 PM
Any Way You Want It 3:24 Journey Journey's Greatest Hits Rock 4 4/11/2008 5:11 PM
Wheel In The Sky 4:13 Journey Journey's Greatest Hits Rock 5 4/4/2008 6:13 PM
Centerfield 3:54 John Fogerty Premonition Rock 19 4/11/2008 5:34 PM
Hey Tonight [Live] 2:33 John Fogerty The Long Road Home Rock 9 4/4/2008 6:20 PM
Passionate Kisses 3:22 Mary Chapin Carpenter The Essential Mary Chapin Carpenter Pop 9 4/4/2008 5:57 PM
Have You Ever Seen The Rain? 2:39 John Fogerty The Long Road Home Rock 2 4/4/2008 6:23 PM
Badlands 4:04 Bruce Springsteen Darkness On The Edge Of Town Rock 5 4/3/2008 5:58 PM
How Much Love 4:41 Vixen Rev It Up Rock 7 4/3/2008 5:46 PM
Uptown Girl 3:18 Billy Joel The Essential Billy Joel (Limited Edition) Rock 39 3/22/2008 5:41 PM
Almost Saturday Night [Live] 2:28 John Fogerty The Long Road Home Rock 6 4/11/2008 5:07 PM
Up Around The Bend 2:41 John Fogerty The Long Road Home Rock 11 4/5/2008 12:22 PM
Fortunate Son 2:20 John Fogerty The Long Road Home Rock 11 4/5/2008 12:24 PM
They're Everywhere 3:35 Jim's Big Ego They're Everywhere! (Explicit) Rock 5 4/5/2008 12:28 PM
Centerfold 3:38 J. Geils Band Hits Of The 80's Alternative & Punk 6 4/11/2008 5:37 PM
Never Been Any Reason 5:11 Head East 20th Century Masters - The Millennium Collection: The Best of Head East Rock 15 4/10/2008 12:31 PM
I Fought the Law 2:47 Green Day I Fought the Law - Single Alternative 11 4/5/2008 12:43 PM
Bad Time 2:56 Grand Funk Railroad Grand Funk Railroad: 30 Years of Funk - 1969-1999 The Anthology (Box Set) Rock 14 4/11/2008 5:14 PM
Footstompin' Music 3:48 Grand Funk E Pluribus Funk Rock 5 4/5/2008 12:49 PM
Stacy's Mom 3:18 Fountains of Wayne Welcome Interstate Managers Alternative 5 4/5/2008 12:53 PM
Bad Things 2:44 Jace Everett Jace Everett Country 7 4/5/2008 12:31 PM
Flowers on the Wall 3:29 Eric Heatherly Swimming in Champagne Country 15 4/5/2008 12:56 PM
Should I Stay Or Should I Go 3:09 The Clash The Essential Clash [Disc 2] Alternative & Punk 2 4/5/2008 1:00 PM
Rock The Casbah 3:43 The Clash The Essential Clash [Disc 2] Alternative & Punk 2 4/5/2008 1:03 PM
Train In Vain 3:11 The Clash The Essential Clash [Disc 2] Alternative & Punk 3 4/5/2008 1:07 PM
I Fought The Law 2:39 The Clash The Essential Clash [Disc 1] Alternative & Punk 3 4/5/2008 1:09 PM
Don't Ask Me How I Know 4:16 Bobby Pinson Don't Ask Me How I Know - Single Country 13 4/5/2008 1:14 PM
Love Train 3:47 Big & Rich Horse Of A Different Color Country 3 3/22/2008 5:45 PM
Six Foot Town 3:48 Big & Rich Horse Of A Different Color Country 3 3/22/2008 5:52 PM
Wild West Show 4:21 Big & Rich Horse Of A Different Color Country 3 3/22/2008 5:56 PM
Rollin' 4:50 Big & Rich Horse Of A Different Color Country 3 3/22/2008 6:01 PM
One Week 2:50 Barenaked Ladies The Buzz Rock 6 3/16/2008 3:04 PM
Revival 4:05 The Allman Brothers Band Dreams (Box Set) Rock 10 3/16/2008 3:26 PM
Anyway my "Workout" playlist is constantly being updated, songs no longer inspire me, something else will catch my ear and I'll give it a try, et cetera. But the one I've got now has been together for a while and I thought I'd take a look at it and see why.
First a word about my criteria. In the newest issue of Yoga Journal, there's an interview with a guy trying to "Americanize" yoga, and if that's not cringeworthy enough, he uses hip-hop music in his classes. When asked about some of the negative and mysogynist lyrics in those tunes, he says it's not important, people don't listen to the lyrics anyway. I do, and for me the lyrics have to be upbeat. They don't have to be romantic -- though that's a plus -- but they do have to be positive. It's also nice if they mention running or some type of physical exertion. And of course, there are always exceptions, if the beat's right or there's a certain je nais se quai that keeps me pumping away on the elliptical, it stays on the playlist. (Oh, and if anybody has any suggestions about songs to add, let me know.)
Ready? Here we go.
Don't Stop Believin' Journey (Corny, but inpirational. On days where I'm a little discouraged or tired, it's nice to be reminded right off the bat to keep the faith. )
What a Wonderful World Joey Ramone (Best of both worlds, overflowing with positivity and with a beat that defies you not to get moving.)
Rebel Rebel David Bowie (Like I said, things change all the time. But right now this is my favorite workout song -- and mostly for the beat not the lyrics, especially as a "handful of 'ludes" is not an example of performing-enhancing drugs. There was a time when I was a teenager that David Bowie was by far my favorite musician, so it's possible there's a little nostalgia involved with this one too. Whatever -- it works. Usually the first five minutes of my cardio workout is warm-up and five minutes is about how long the first two songs last, so when I have to get it going, Rebel Rebel is there to help me do so.)
Yesterday's Hero Bay City Rollers (Don't laugh, the Bay City Rollers never got a lot of respect stateside, but this one is very inspirational to an old dude trying to get back in shape:
We don't wanna BE! A yesterday's hero!
And yesterday's hero, is all that
We're gonna be if we don't get together!
Make a new plan and be constantly better!
All that we'll be if we don't get together NOW!
It's like a Men's Health article set to music.
Hot Corner The B-52s (This song is off their new comeback album, and I'm still not sure what it's about or if it's going to stay on the list. It does have some of the beehive-y feel of vintage B-52s, even if the title is a bit misleading. After all, it's not about playing third base. Ha-ha, a little baseball humor for y'all.)
Dude (Looks Like A Lady) Aerosmith (A hard-rocking tune from Steve Tyler and the guys. There aren't any dudes that look like ladies at my gym, but there is at least one lady who looks like a dude. She's actually an old friend of mine. By the way, did you know that this song was written about this particular dude?)
Save A Horse (Ride A Cowboy) Big & Rich (A lot of people who know what a country music traditionalist I am and how I think rap ruined rock and roll can't figure out why I love Big and Rich, who brought rap to country, so much. To them I quote Walt Whitman, "Do I contradict myself? Very well, I contradict myself. I am large; I contain multitudes" (Although, again, I am not as large as I was.) Even if I didn't love their music so much, I would still be a fan; I have been waiting a long time for someone to come along with the message "Love Everybody," and that's just what Big Kenny does. We'll hear from Big and Rich again before we hit the showers.
Check Yes Juliet We the Kings (I've written about this song before. It's just about perfect; second only to Rebel, Rebel as the perfect workout song. It's got high energy, the right amount of beats per minute, it's romantic, it mentions lacing up your shoes and running. What more could you ask for?)
Runaway Train Soul Asylum (I'm not sure how this one has stayed on the playlist so long. It does mention the word "run" or "runaway" anyway, but it's not very fast or upbeat (in any sense of the word). As an admirer of mixed metaphors, I love the first verse:
Call you up in the middle of the night
Like a firefly without a light
You were there like a slow torch burning
I was a key that could use a little turning
And as a fan of repitition passed off as rhyme, I enjoy the second verse as well:
So tired that I couldn't even sleep
So many secrets I couldn't keep
Promised myself I wouldn't weep
One more promise I couldn't keep
but not enough to keep the song. It's coming off or at least moving way farther down.)
No Surrender Bruce Springsteen (After slowing things down with Runaway Train, I need somebody to kick my ass and convince me to gear it up again. The Boss does just that.)
Everyone's In Love Will Kimbrough (A reiteration of me and Big Kenny's philosophy:
Everyone's in love with everyone
So don't you fret.
Everyone's in love with everyone
They just don't know it yet.
Could be a little faster for workout purposes, but the extra credit earned keeps it on the list.
I'm Still Here Paul Thorn ( I love Paul Thorn; this ex-boxer slash poet is the perfect combination of toughness and romanticism. At least one of his songs -- "Where Was I?" never fails to make me well with tears, but as in baseball there is no crying in the gym, so I go with this anthem of survival.
Go All the Way The Raspberries (Probably one of the most underrated rock bands ever. All they did was invent power pop -- later popularized by bands like Cheap Trick and Styx. I don't care how tired you are at this point, this erotic rock track will keep you running.)
We Got It Going On Bon Jovi with Big and Rich (See I told you Big and Rich would be back, and here they are with Bon Jovi. Great workout song.
I rarely get much past this on my workout but here are the other songs on my current playlist:
Janie's Got A Gun Aerosmith
Going Mobile The Who
Here I Go Again Whitesnake
Jeannie Needs a Shooter Warren Zevon
Don't Touch Me There The Tubes
On A Night Like This Trick Pony
I'll Be Your Shelter Taylor Dayne
The Pass Rush
Jessie's Girl 3:14 Rick Springfield Hits Of The 80's Alternative & Punk 14 3/31/2008 9:11 AM
Come and Get Your Love 5:00 Redbone The Essential Redbone Rock 11 3/31/2008 9:16 AM
We're a Happy Family 2:39 The Ramones Weird Tales of the Ramones Alternative 4 3/31/2008 9:19 AM
Mission Temple Fireworks Stand 3:33 Paul Thorn Mission Temple Fireworks Stand Country 8 4/10/2008 12:19 PM
Rise Up 3:48 Paul Thorn Mission Temple Fireworks Stand Country 4 3/31/2008 9:26 AM
Everybody Looks Good At The Starting Line 4:36 Paul Thorn Mission Temple Fireworks Stand Country 8 3/29/2008 5:48 PM
Green Grass and High Tides 9:46 The Outlaws Best of The Outlaws: Green Grass and High Tides Rock 5 3/31/2008 9:36 AM
The Slow Descent into Alcoholism 3:57 The New Pornographers Mass Romantic (Remastered) Alternative 16 3/31/2008 9:40 AM
I Melt With You 4:12 Modern English After the Snow Alternative 11 4/4/2008 5:41 PM
I Run for Life 4:24 Melissa Etheridge Melissa Etheridge: Greatest Hits - The Road Less Traveled Rock 5 4/4/2008 5:45 PM
The Angels 4:40 Melissa Etheridge Brave And Crazy Rock 5 4/4/2008 5:50 PM
Hang On Sloopy 3:54 The McCoys Hang on Sloopy - The Best of the McCoys Rock 100 20 4/4/2008 5:54 PM
I Feel Lucky 3:31 Mary Chapin Carpenter The Essential Mary Chapin Carpenter Pop 4 4/4/2008 6:01 PM
Shut Up And Kiss Me 3:41 Mary Chapin Carpenter The Essential Mary Chapin Carpenter Pop 4 3/16/2008 3:41 PM
Fire On the Mountain 3:55 The Marshall Tucker Band Searchin' for a Rainbow Rock 9 4/4/2008 6:06 PM
Any Way You Want It 3:24 Journey Journey's Greatest Hits Rock 4 4/11/2008 5:11 PM
Wheel In The Sky 4:13 Journey Journey's Greatest Hits Rock 5 4/4/2008 6:13 PM
Centerfield 3:54 John Fogerty Premonition Rock 19 4/11/2008 5:34 PM
Hey Tonight [Live] 2:33 John Fogerty The Long Road Home Rock 9 4/4/2008 6:20 PM
Passionate Kisses 3:22 Mary Chapin Carpenter The Essential Mary Chapin Carpenter Pop 9 4/4/2008 5:57 PM
Have You Ever Seen The Rain? 2:39 John Fogerty The Long Road Home Rock 2 4/4/2008 6:23 PM
Badlands 4:04 Bruce Springsteen Darkness On The Edge Of Town Rock 5 4/3/2008 5:58 PM
How Much Love 4:41 Vixen Rev It Up Rock 7 4/3/2008 5:46 PM
Uptown Girl 3:18 Billy Joel The Essential Billy Joel (Limited Edition) Rock 39 3/22/2008 5:41 PM
Almost Saturday Night [Live] 2:28 John Fogerty The Long Road Home Rock 6 4/11/2008 5:07 PM
Up Around The Bend 2:41 John Fogerty The Long Road Home Rock 11 4/5/2008 12:22 PM
Fortunate Son 2:20 John Fogerty The Long Road Home Rock 11 4/5/2008 12:24 PM
They're Everywhere 3:35 Jim's Big Ego They're Everywhere! (Explicit) Rock 5 4/5/2008 12:28 PM
Centerfold 3:38 J. Geils Band Hits Of The 80's Alternative & Punk 6 4/11/2008 5:37 PM
Never Been Any Reason 5:11 Head East 20th Century Masters - The Millennium Collection: The Best of Head East Rock 15 4/10/2008 12:31 PM
I Fought the Law 2:47 Green Day I Fought the Law - Single Alternative 11 4/5/2008 12:43 PM
Bad Time 2:56 Grand Funk Railroad Grand Funk Railroad: 30 Years of Funk - 1969-1999 The Anthology (Box Set) Rock 14 4/11/2008 5:14 PM
Footstompin' Music 3:48 Grand Funk E Pluribus Funk Rock 5 4/5/2008 12:49 PM
Stacy's Mom 3:18 Fountains of Wayne Welcome Interstate Managers Alternative 5 4/5/2008 12:53 PM
Bad Things 2:44 Jace Everett Jace Everett Country 7 4/5/2008 12:31 PM
Flowers on the Wall 3:29 Eric Heatherly Swimming in Champagne Country 15 4/5/2008 12:56 PM
Should I Stay Or Should I Go 3:09 The Clash The Essential Clash [Disc 2] Alternative & Punk 2 4/5/2008 1:00 PM
Rock The Casbah 3:43 The Clash The Essential Clash [Disc 2] Alternative & Punk 2 4/5/2008 1:03 PM
Train In Vain 3:11 The Clash The Essential Clash [Disc 2] Alternative & Punk 3 4/5/2008 1:07 PM
I Fought The Law 2:39 The Clash The Essential Clash [Disc 1] Alternative & Punk 3 4/5/2008 1:09 PM
Don't Ask Me How I Know 4:16 Bobby Pinson Don't Ask Me How I Know - Single Country 13 4/5/2008 1:14 PM
Love Train 3:47 Big & Rich Horse Of A Different Color Country 3 3/22/2008 5:45 PM
Six Foot Town 3:48 Big & Rich Horse Of A Different Color Country 3 3/22/2008 5:52 PM
Wild West Show 4:21 Big & Rich Horse Of A Different Color Country 3 3/22/2008 5:56 PM
Rollin' 4:50 Big & Rich Horse Of A Different Color Country 3 3/22/2008 6:01 PM
One Week 2:50 Barenaked Ladies The Buzz Rock 6 3/16/2008 3:04 PM
Revival 4:05 The Allman Brothers Band Dreams (Box Set) Rock 10 3/16/2008 3:26 PM
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Bad Baby! Bad!
I have to do a review of Jeff Bates's new CD for Country Standard Time magazine. So I went to Wikipedia for some background (cuz record labels don't send out press kits that starving critics can sell on eBay for a few bucks anymore) and I found out that Mr. Bates was a real country music outlaw at a very young age:
When Bates was three months old, he was given up by his biological mother and adopted by a sharecropping family. Bates had previously spent time in jail for grand larceny.
When Bates was three months old, he was given up by his biological mother and adopted by a sharecropping family. Bates had previously spent time in jail for grand larceny.
Something I actually overheard myself say today
"Jane Austen and the Silver Surfer; those are my two favorites."
Sunday, April 06, 2008
A boring self-quiz thingamabob
60 Things You Can’t Possibly Know About Me
1. What is in the back seat of your car right now? Tea cups (some with tea bags still inside -- eww) an umbrella, a gym bag, miscellaneous detritus.
2. When was the last time you threw up? It's been at least four of five years, but I thought I was going to after some church spaghetti last night.
3. What’s your favorite word or phrase? My favorite word is "uxorious" because I like the way it sounds and the way it describes me. (Look it up.)
4. Name 3 people who made you smile today? Kim, Cricket, Leah
5. What were you doing at 8 am this morning? Sleeping
6. What were you doing 30 minutes ago? Watching the White Sox whip up on the Tigers.
7. What is your favorite holiday? My anniversary. (I told you I was uxorious.)
8. Have you ever been to a concert? Oh yeah, the first one was Black Oak Arkansas in 1972, the last one Big and Rich a few years ago.
9. What is the last thing you said aloud? "I do the best I can with what I've got."
10. What is the best ice cream flavor? Breyers' Chocolate
11. What was the last thing you had to drink? water
12. What are you wearing? jean shorts, a Silver Surfer shirt, Corona boxers, and socks cuz it still ain't warm enough in the evenings to go barefoot.
13. What was the last thing you ate? Chicken strips, rice pilaf and corn on the cob.
14. Anyone have a crush on you? Not that I know of.
15. When was the last time you ran? I ran on the elliptical machine at the gym yesterday.
16. What’s the last sporting event you watched? See answer to question 6
17. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go? India
18. Who is the last person you sent a comment/message on myspace? My oldest daughter Leah, to finalize our dinner plans
19. Ever go camping? Yes, but I think after our tent blew down at Stone Mountain it'll be a long time before we go again.
20. Do you have a tan? A farmer's tan.
21. Have you ever lost anything down a toilet? Nope
22. Do you use smiley faces on the computer a lot? Nope
23. Do you drink your pop from a straw? I have no idea what pop is, but I don't drink anything through a straw.
24. Number 24 is on vacation...wish I was with him.
25. What did your last text message say? Let me check . . . "I love you and I hope your Thursday goes great." from my youngest daughter Cricket.
26. Are you someone’s best friend? Kim's, but she doesn't know it.
27. What are you doing tomorrow? Working, taking my first day off from the gym since I joined the gym.
28. Where is your mom right now? At home, I guess.
29. Look to your left, what do you see? Books, comic books, postcards, a Minnesota Twins popcorn bucket that I use as a trashcan.
30. What color is your watch? Black, and it's not a watch, it's a cellphone.
31. What do you think of when you think of Australia? Watching The Biggest Loser last week and getting vertigo just from watching the contestants on that bridge in Sydney.
32. Ever ridden on a roller coaster? Yes, but never again.
33. What’s your zodiac sign? Aquarius, the Water Bearer, also my moon sign and my rising sign.
34. Do you go in at a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? Drive right past all that crap -- except Chick-Fil-A once in a while, and I go in.
35. Do you have any friends on myspace that you actually hate? No.
36. Do you have a dog? Yes
37. Last person you talked to on the phone? My father
38. Have you met anyone famous? Yes, but mostly comic creators that you've never heard of.
39. Any plans today? Nope, maybe have a cup of Sleepytime tea. Is that a plan?
40. Number 40 is indulging himself with of some of my leftover pizza. Please excuse him.
41. Ever go to college? Briefly
42. Where are you right now? In my office.
43. Biggest annoyance in your life right now? Honestly can't think of anything.
44. Last song listened to? "Shoeshine Man" by Tom T. Hall.
45. Last movie you saw? Shoot, I don't know. I think it was "Rocket Science" which was pretty good.
46. Are you allergic to anything? Hypocrisy.
47. Favorite pair of shoes you wear all the time? My extra-wide New Balances
48. Are you jealous of anyone? Nope.
49. Are you married? Yep.
50. Is anyone jealous of you? Not that I know of.
51. What time is it? 9:40 PM
52. Do any of your friends have children? Yep.
53. Do you eat healthy? Yes.
54. Also eating pizza.
55. Do you hate anyone right now? Nope.
56. Do you have a crush on someone? Just my wife.
57. How many kids do you want? 4 -- which is good, cuz that's how many I have.
58. Now where the hell is Number 58?????
59. Have you ever been to Six Flags? Yes.
60. Who farted? Without a doubt, that would be my gaseous co-worker Dallas.
1. What is in the back seat of your car right now? Tea cups (some with tea bags still inside -- eww) an umbrella, a gym bag, miscellaneous detritus.
2. When was the last time you threw up? It's been at least four of five years, but I thought I was going to after some church spaghetti last night.
3. What’s your favorite word or phrase? My favorite word is "uxorious" because I like the way it sounds and the way it describes me. (Look it up.)
4. Name 3 people who made you smile today? Kim, Cricket, Leah
5. What were you doing at 8 am this morning? Sleeping
6. What were you doing 30 minutes ago? Watching the White Sox whip up on the Tigers.
7. What is your favorite holiday? My anniversary. (I told you I was uxorious.)
8. Have you ever been to a concert? Oh yeah, the first one was Black Oak Arkansas in 1972, the last one Big and Rich a few years ago.
9. What is the last thing you said aloud? "I do the best I can with what I've got."
10. What is the best ice cream flavor? Breyers' Chocolate
11. What was the last thing you had to drink? water
12. What are you wearing? jean shorts, a Silver Surfer shirt, Corona boxers, and socks cuz it still ain't warm enough in the evenings to go barefoot.
13. What was the last thing you ate? Chicken strips, rice pilaf and corn on the cob.
14. Anyone have a crush on you? Not that I know of.
15. When was the last time you ran? I ran on the elliptical machine at the gym yesterday.
16. What’s the last sporting event you watched? See answer to question 6
17. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go? India
18. Who is the last person you sent a comment/message on myspace? My oldest daughter Leah, to finalize our dinner plans
19. Ever go camping? Yes, but I think after our tent blew down at Stone Mountain it'll be a long time before we go again.
20. Do you have a tan? A farmer's tan.
21. Have you ever lost anything down a toilet? Nope
22. Do you use smiley faces on the computer a lot? Nope
23. Do you drink your pop from a straw? I have no idea what pop is, but I don't drink anything through a straw.
24. Number 24 is on vacation...wish I was with him.
25. What did your last text message say? Let me check . . . "I love you and I hope your Thursday goes great." from my youngest daughter Cricket.
26. Are you someone’s best friend? Kim's, but she doesn't know it.
27. What are you doing tomorrow? Working, taking my first day off from the gym since I joined the gym.
28. Where is your mom right now? At home, I guess.
29. Look to your left, what do you see? Books, comic books, postcards, a Minnesota Twins popcorn bucket that I use as a trashcan.
30. What color is your watch? Black, and it's not a watch, it's a cellphone.
31. What do you think of when you think of Australia? Watching The Biggest Loser last week and getting vertigo just from watching the contestants on that bridge in Sydney.
32. Ever ridden on a roller coaster? Yes, but never again.
33. What’s your zodiac sign? Aquarius, the Water Bearer, also my moon sign and my rising sign.
34. Do you go in at a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? Drive right past all that crap -- except Chick-Fil-A once in a while, and I go in.
35. Do you have any friends on myspace that you actually hate? No.
36. Do you have a dog? Yes
37. Last person you talked to on the phone? My father
38. Have you met anyone famous? Yes, but mostly comic creators that you've never heard of.
39. Any plans today? Nope, maybe have a cup of Sleepytime tea. Is that a plan?
40. Number 40 is indulging himself with of some of my leftover pizza. Please excuse him.
41. Ever go to college? Briefly
42. Where are you right now? In my office.
43. Biggest annoyance in your life right now? Honestly can't think of anything.
44. Last song listened to? "Shoeshine Man" by Tom T. Hall.
45. Last movie you saw? Shoot, I don't know. I think it was "Rocket Science" which was pretty good.
46. Are you allergic to anything? Hypocrisy.
47. Favorite pair of shoes you wear all the time? My extra-wide New Balances
48. Are you jealous of anyone? Nope.
49. Are you married? Yep.
50. Is anyone jealous of you? Not that I know of.
51. What time is it? 9:40 PM
52. Do any of your friends have children? Yep.
53. Do you eat healthy? Yes.
54. Also eating pizza.
55. Do you hate anyone right now? Nope.
56. Do you have a crush on someone? Just my wife.
57. How many kids do you want? 4 -- which is good, cuz that's how many I have.
58. Now where the hell is Number 58?????
59. Have you ever been to Six Flags? Yes.
60. Who farted? Without a doubt, that would be my gaseous co-worker Dallas.
Friday, April 04, 2008
Milestone
For the first time since the 1990's, I weigh less than 200 pounds -- 199, to be exact. But stay tuned, there's more to come off.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Please explain
So how come if something runs in front of my car I can swerve or brake quicker than I can ascertain if it was a squirrel or a man that ran in front of me, and if I touch something hot I will pull my hand even before the nerves have registered pain, BUT it takes 20 minutes to get the word from my stomach to my brain that I've had enough to eat. What is the deal? Are other body parts using instant messaging and the stomach still communicating via pony express?
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Why John McCain is going to lose in November.
There is only one person left in America who thinks the war in Iraq was a good idea, and he is the Republican presidential nominee. How does somebody get that out of touch with reality and one's fellow citizens. Senator McCain should read this examination of the war by Fred Kaplan. I have to quote the beginning of it:
Imagine it's early 2003, and President George W. Bush presents the following case for invading Iraq:
It is extremely doubtful that Congress would have authorized such a war or that the American people would have shouted, "Bring it on!We're about to go to war against Saddam Hussein. Victory on the battlefield will be swift and fairly clean. But then 100,000 U.S. troops will have to occupy Iraq for about 10 years. On average, nearly 1,000 of them will be killed and another 10,000 injured in each of the first 5 years. We'll spend at least $1 trillion on the war and occupation, and possibly trillions more. Toppling Saddam will finish off a ghastly tyranny, but it will also uncork age-old sectarian tensions. More than 100,000 Iraqis will die, a few million will be displaced, and the best we can hope for will be a loosely federated Islamic republic that isn't completely in Iran's pocket. Finally, it will turn out that Saddam had neither weapons of mass destruction nor ties to the planners of 9/11. Our intervention and occupation will serve as the rallying cry for a new crop of terrorists.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Sunday, March 09, 2008
More books I've read in 2008
Breakfast After Noon, by Andi Watson is a graphic novel about Rob and Louise, two young Brits about to be married who get laid off from their jobs in the fine pottery business, and how each of them reacts to this set back, and how it affects their relationship. Louise goes out and gets new training, Rob refuses to even consider looking for work in another field, and his life eventually comes close to falling apart. This might seem odd coming from me -- the King of Happy Endings -- but this book's happy ending seemed forced. In my experience, things don't usually turn out that well for people like Rob, too inflexible to see more than one way of perceiving oneself.
And Russell Hoban redeems himself in my book. Y'all know he's one of my favorite writers, Come Dance With Me and Her Name
Was Lola both blew me away, but Linger Awhile left me cold. I liked The Medusa Frequency a lot more. It's weird, of course. A blocked writer spends his time conversing with the head of Orpheus, when said head is not a football or a cabbage, that is. Along the way Hoban discourses on -- among many other things -- fidelity:"Fidelity is a matter of perception; nobody is unfaithful to the sea or to the mountains or to death; once recognized they fill the heart. . . Anyone who loves, anyone who perceives the other person fully can only be faithful, can never be unfaithful to the sea and the mountains and the death in that person, so pitiful and heroic is it to be a human being."
Art:
"Art is a celebration of loss, of beauty passing, not to be held." "What remained became the endlessly voyaging sorrow and astonishment from which I write in those brief moments when I can write." "Used properly the back of a cereal box is to literature what Buddy Holly is to music."
Love, and why art is but a pale remnant of love:
"When there was love and happiness there was no story, what there was could not be contained by words. With the death of love came the story and the story found words for it."
A beautiful and profound book. Just what I expect from Mister Hoban. (Maybe I should reread Linger Awhile; I must have missed something.)
Friday, March 07, 2008
Dogs I have been fortunate enough to know
Don't get me wrong -- I love cats. In fact I share my home with a black-and-white Holstein-cow-marked feline; her name is Cookie and she is definitely one of my favorite people in the world. She enjoys nothing more than getting a good scratch and I enjoy giving a good scratch, so we get along great.
She's just one of many cats I've loved, but the truth is I'm a dog man. I truly believe that dog's unconditional love is the way we all should be -- human and canine -- and that we have much to learn from the dog. Much. All dogs are cool which is why all dogs go to heaven, but some dogs are more special than others. I feel very lucky to have known more than my share of great dog souls and today I want to tell you about the first of my canine mahatmas.
Her name was Cindy. She was a pit bull, but my dad called her a bulldog because he knew my mom wouldn't let him have a pit bull around babies. She needn't have worried; Cindy was gentle and patient with me; many was the time she was awakened from a deep sleep by a toddler (me) jumping on her stomach, knocking the wind out of her; not once did she ever get angry or even pretend to retaliate. She had no patience however with anybody that tried to mess with me. And nobody did. There were a lot of bullies in the neighborhood in Richmond where I grew up, but none of them picked on me until after Cindy died when I was 12. Take a good look at that picture of her. She only had three legs because she was hit by a garbage truck and had to get one of them amputated. She also had an underbite so pronounced it was a wonder she could chew. But she could run like the wind on her remaining three legs and if she bit you, you'd definitely know that you'd been bit.
So what did I learn from Cindy? That a homely exterior can hide a great soul and a beautiful heart. That you should not let a physical handicap slow you down. That you should always be loyal to and protective of your loved ones, and extra patient with babies and toddlers.
And that love lasts forever. I still miss her.
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
This American Life
One of the things I love most about having an I-Pod is that I never have to miss an episode of my favorite radio show "This American Life," I just subscribe to the podcast. If you've never heard this show before, the concept is pretty simple -- they pick a theme and let writers, artists, journalists and normal everyday people tackle that theme. And no matter what the theme, the show is always fascinating. This weeks' theme was "Human Resources" which sounds pretty boring, but I learned so much -- especially about chimpanzee retirement homes, which I never knew existed. But trained chimps are only going to work for a few years; once they get to be four or five years old they're too mean and too stubborn to do sitcom tricks anymore. But they can't be returned to the wild because they've never known any kind of life other than the domestic life, and they live a long time in captivity.
It never occurred to me that Cheeta -- the chimp from the Tarzan movies -- might still be alive, but he is. From Wikipedia: In retirement Cheeta lives at a primate sanctuary called Creative Habitats and Enrichment for Endangered and Threatened Apes (or CHEETA) in Palm Springs, California. He watches television and makes paintings which are sold to benefit primate-related charities. He often watches his old films with his grandson, Jeeter. He also likes to leaf through books and "play" the piano."
Cheeta will be 76 years old next month, and his autobiography -- no kidding -- will be out in October.
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