........shango

During a conversation years ago the subject of death came up-it was a late night.

I said I just don't want to die in a stupid way- a way that becomes the one and only thing that people remember abou you. Mama Cass choking on a ham sandwhich (not true by the way) or any of the sexual shennnaigans boys (David Carradine or the INXS guy)

Of course I realize just by saying this, I put the shango on myself. dooming myself to some dopey demise.

That being said, RIP Segway guy

were they the best live act of the 80's? Oh yes.

behold

againandagainandagain.......

I just replaced the radio/cd player in my truck.

It had been stolen two years ago.

There is a wealth of information in those two sentences for those with a psychological bent.

Anyhow-While driving back and forth to rehearsals I divide my time between listening to the radio (mostly NPR, go ahead judge me) and selections from my cd library. An eclectic mix to say the least.

In among those cd's there are collections that I have owned in a variety of formats. Vinyl, Cassette, Cd, even a few in eight track. Stuff that I just always had to have handy.

Spike Jones' greatest Hits, The first two Santana Albums, Dan Hicks' Strikin' it Rich, Steely Dan Aja and a Bunch of Kid Creole . you get the idea.

I bet you have a bunch of records like that as well.

Here's one I listened to today- Joni Mitchell, Court and Spark. Now I wouldn't call myself a huge fan of hers (that semi yodel thing she does can be a bit trying) but I love that record. In particular I love the one two punch of , "Help Me" into "Free Man In Paris". During the 25 minute drive today I played those two about three times in a row.

Free Man in Paris is an amazing song to me because basically it asks us to empathize with a millionaire (David Geffen) who would prefer to be back in Paris rather than back at work at his record label. Poor Guy. But low and behold it works- I love the groove and the lyrics are spare, simple, economical , to the point. (not belabored like this sentence)

Want proof?

"I deal in Dreamers and telephone screamers"

Someday , maybe, I can write a line that good.

What time is it?

My Dad was the pioneer, the king of the new, he could see the next big thing when it was a tiny little idea.

Example- we had vinyl siding on our house years before anyone else. He and I put it all by ourselves! We had construction guys stopping by the house to check it out while we were putting it up. The guy from the lumberyard (in smithtown tipped them off).

second example- Tivo. noooooooooobody had any idea what this thing was, they scoffed, they mocked, now they couldn't live without it. Of course everyone has a DVR now I think poor little Tivo might be on life support. waiting to be put on the shelf next to the eight track player and the Betamax.

My favorite thing about Tivo was his/her penchant for making suggestions "Hey, you like Xena-the warrior princess, maybe you would like La Femme Nikita" (my dad loved both)

Sometimes Tivo would be in a silly mood and suggest some really odd choices. For the longest time Tivo would suggest cartoons that my father should record, long lists of cartoons. He had eclectic taste but was not a fan of cartoons. Months later we got to he bottom of this peccadillo when we discovered that my nephew had recorded some cartoons during a visit! Tivo wasn't crazy after all.

The Tivo suggestion phenom led to not one but two sitcoms using the same joke within a two week span. I don't remember the shows but, here's the joke- "Tivo thinks I'm Gay!"

This leads me(circuitously I admit) to my e mail -, more precisely ,my junk mail. Of course there will be the usual , some porn offers (hmmmm can't imagine why) but,in the past year many Canadian pharmacies want me to do all my controlled substance shopping with them and most recently the gods of spam have decided that I should have a lovely Rolex or patek phillipe wrist watch adorning my arm whilst I grab another handful of cialis while deciding which lovely from last weeks film shoot i should connect with.

Perhaps spamboy knows me better than I know myself, I've always felt deep inside that I was Canadian. I think it started when I was 12 years old and the Vietnam conflict was showing no signs of slowing down....but that's a story for another time.

wrong.....

inappropriate

in the previous post ,during a rare spell check (on the above word) the spell checker made this suggestion;

inn appropriate


spectacular

curiousity.....

In the house where I live there is a cat.

I always considered my self a dog person but, I like the cat. Maybe he likes me, who knows.

One reason I like the cat- At night when we sleep he will sleep in the same room, close by, usually in a chair. Back in June I was very sick for 24 hours (I get this, whatever the hell it is, every 5 years or so) So I'm lying in bed sweating and moaning and groaning and tossing and turning. When I wake up the next morning the cat was lying on the bed right next to me. I smiled. I'm sure there's some cold logical explanation for this but ,I would like to think the cat wanted to do something to make me feel better.

a second reason- I read that dogs can make about 10 different sounds, a cat can make about 100. A cat catches on rather quickly that conversation is important, I talk- you talk, so a very common occurrence is for cats to engage people in conversation. I meow-you talk, My cat is very talkative in the morning. His most common sound is something that sounds like "NO" My favorite way to start the day is talking to the cat, at first asking him questions where No, would be a reasonable response. This of course leads to questions where No is a wildly inappropriate response.

makes me laugh

a belated birthday salute..rave on Buddy.

behold!

The Civil War: a narrative- by Shelby Foote

A set of three books each between 800 and 1,000 pages long

They have been around the house for years- started reading the first book the other night, spellbinding

I can't imagine how you can write somehing of this scope. Where/how do you start?

I get blocked trying to write this thing

Tag! You're it!

Knives, hatchets, sling shots, bb guns, pellet guns- these were some of the playthings the boys in my neighborhood were surrounded by when I was a kid. Now don't get me wrong ,I'm not about to tell you about how terrible this was , because it was great. To be a ten year old boy with a pocketknife handy is to rule the world.

Of course with great power comes great responsibility- young boys are not always the most responsible creatures , witness a game of bb gun tag. Better yet , don't witness a game of bb gun tag.

Real weapons with real consequences can teach you that it is important to focus, to pay attention. They can also teach you to be a jerk.

A neighbor from down the street was playing with a piece of wood and a hatchet. No point to the game , just the satisfying "thwack" of the blade hitting the wood. The game just gets better as the blade sinks deeper into the wood. It takes a second to pull it out now, and then "thwack". Once more and...........

Yes, it's that "once more" that makes all the difference. One second everything is fine and then things are changed.

Once more.... He had ten fingers and a second later he had nine fingers. Luckily I didn't witness this or else I would have been curled up in fetal position, whimpering, for the next five years. Now , this was way back when, so there was no wrapping the finger in ice and rushing to the" sew the hacked off finger back on surgeon" . No ,this was back when you just walked around with nine fingers.

I will admit that after the initial horror passed ,the hand became the epitome of cool. We could actually say we knew a guy who had hacked off a finger with a hatchet. Cool.

I was reminded of this incident and the whole idea of going one step too far twice this week. There was the young college student in New York who, in a drunken stupor, thought it was a good idea to climb out on the ledge (about 30 stories up) with her camera to take some pictures.

There was also the story of a Dr. who went to find her boyfriend, he wasn't home and the house was locked.One second she's locked outside and then she get's the idea that she'll climb into the house by way of the chimney, getting stuck in the process. (and dying) The horror of this almost makes me want to crawl up in fetal position and whimper.

Instead I'll just sit here and count my fingers.
Ten.

In a word.......Genius

a longtime favorite

T...dammit....T !!!!!

last week the G key on the computer was acting up.

this week the T key is sticking.

T is far more annoying than G

there's a storm a brewin'........

Earl is approaching- losing steam along he way but here he comes. Hurricane Earl that is. Hurricanes have lost a bit of their allure now that they can have male names. They sound a bit more pedestrian somehow.

I am trying to figure out just how much preperation I have to do around the house- does all the patio furniture have to be brought in to the shed? If I bring everything in, is it worth it to put everything back out after the storm? In other words, does Earl mean the end of summer? Kinda early to bring stuff in but, maybe not.

Two Hurricane memories : Gloria ('85?) knowing that this was going to be a biggie I was a busy little bee bringing everything in and then battening down the hatches ("but I did batten them down! Well Batten 'em down again, we'll teach those hatches") Then lying down on the couch in the den and sleeping thru the whole storm. The next day I rode my bike around the Campus of Lasalle Military Academy- where the destruction was jaw dropping.

Betsy (63?) sitting in the car with my dad, in the garage, listening to the radio reports- no power in the neighborhood -I'm six years old experiencing my first Hurricane. A great apocalyptic , end of the world vibe. In my overactive imaginaion anyway

Oh, I just heard. Earl is now a Tropical Storm. Hmmmm do I really have to do all that work for a Tropical Storm?

when i was a kid......blah blah blah

Way back when in blogland I bemoaned the fact that record stores had vanished overnight. Local independent stores- long gone, then "poof" the big ol' mall stores ,gone. One of my favorite wastes of time had ceased to be. I am still woozy when I go to times square and the virgin store is but a memory. That was a great place to while away a 45 minutes or so.

NOW- it was announced early this week that Barnes and Noble is closing it's Lincoln Center store. This was a bustling place always filled with people. Granted it lacked a bit in the feng shui - it wasn't always easy to navigate ,but still if you had a half hour to kill before a concert or movie, perfection.

I was in Borders the other day- not looking particularly healthy. (the store, not me)

I got a bad feeling about this