You ever try to randomly refer to "Audi"s, the cars, in casual conversation? It sounds like you're talking about "outies," like belly buttons. It's weird and confusing.

(edit: Recently saw this in an old "Family Guy" episode....)

On the New McDonald's Campaign

Terriblé.

(edit: I think they've realized it. I haven't seen those ads in a while now.)

(edit 2: Oops...maybe not. They've revived it. Damn.)

The "best" of something ain't necessarily good.

Can somebody please explain to me the logic of allowing the broadcast of certain programming on terrestrial radio but not on streaming online radio? First it was the Cubs, now it's Dr. Demento. And I suppose I should have expected MLB to be greedy like that, but the good doctor? Something is not right about this.

Transpormer

"Transformers" and "Transporter" apparently got popular at about the same time, and I'm always getting them mixed up.

Jason Statham getting medieval on some humongous robots? How 'bout it?

Dairy Queen's "lips" advertising icon needs to die.

A Comic Strip Without the Strip

"Hey, man, we heard you next door. You're pretty good at Guitar Hero, dude!"

(guy opens the door, and is revealed to be holding an actual electric guitar with strings, plugged into an amplifier) "'Guitar Hero'? What's that?"

I know....it sounds clichéd.....

There is nothing....no entity, no concept, no dessert, nothing....that can evoke quite the same feelings, the same psychological "high," as being at a Dead concert in person.

Maybe it helps that I was basically raised in such a way that I "frequented" these things at an early age, so I'm more accustomed to the atmosphere of peace, love, smoke and alcohol than other people may be.....but you get used to that, you know most of the songs, you have a
far
out
time. Sometimes they play a song I don't know so well....still sounds cool, though. I still don't know which song it was, but I have my eye on a website that has all the set lists so far on this Spring '09 tour, so I'll find out soon. Whatever it was, it was a great-sounding bit of fun, quick-paced rock and roll.

They picked out, among others, two of my favorite studio songs: "Weather Report Suite" and "Unbroken Chain", the latter of which our previously uninitiated companion agreed was "beautiful." I swear, I was on the verge of crying my eyes out, overcome by the sheer beauty and surreality of the experience, while hearing these songs, as well as the encore, "Brokedown Palace". Again, maybe I'm biased, having been raised on this music, but it truly is a wonderful experience, sharing and soaking up the groovy vibrations with thousands of kindred spirits.

It must be experienced in person. Watching a DVD recording or just listening to a bootleg on a computer or tape deck is NOT the same. Unless you can somehow get thousands to gather around a giant amplifier through which a concert recording is played and behave the same way as they do when the Dead are actually there. I don't think that's happened yet, though, so even that is somewhat doubtful.

A few selections they played that I can remember (neither the complete set list nor in order):

Dancing in the Street
Tennessee Jed
Mister Charlie
They Love Each Other
Truckin
Throwing Stones
Touch of Grey
Drums > Space > Come Together
Hell in a Bucket
I Know You Rider

And I finally figured out what the other song was through a bit of Googling: The Golden Road (to Unlimited Devotion)

(I know.....I'm not the biggest Deadhead ever. Still not totally evil, though.)

Peace and grooviness.

Freezer-burn.

What an odd concept.

Driving through hills is cool. At times, you can see the road on which you're traveling going up while you're going down. Psychedelic.

Suburbia.......

It seems the perfect opportunity to have a nice rest and feel the groovy spring weather..........and the #%♦&£@$ in this neighborhood all have to rev up their lawn mowers. And they're always spread out throughout the morning, too. They can't just all do it at once. I think we should have a special time set aside for everyone who cares how their lawn looks to all come out and use their mowers. Preferably on the other side of noon.


(edit, a short while later) And car alarms. Please put these things in the history books next to powdered wigs, typewriters, and telephone cords. They accomplish nothing. It's noise pollution. Nothing more. Name one person whose car alarm was the main reason for a happy ending. See? I couldn't do it, either. Car alarms are nothing more than an obstacle between reasonable people and blissful slumber.

Peace.

One last entry for tonight.......

Does anyone know who, or what, OnlineGuardian is, and who bestows upon them the power to "ban" websites? There's not much information that Google could find. I have a suspicion that it was created by an independent, severely disturbed individual or three.....I can find no connection to any other entities.

Please clue us blogospherians in.

Anyone else just get into states of mind like this where they have to find a place to just let the waters of catharsis rush out to sea?

Would anyone else dearly like to see the people grab control of the analog television waves that apparently are, or soon will be, vacated?

Why are they called "buildings"? Shouldn't they be called "builts"?

Where's that Phillipe Debarge CD I ordered a'ready?!? Why won't Steve respond to my e-mail? I don't have a photo like that! Honest! Anything you find online was put up by someone else!

Progress! (Part Two)

The old, manually operated paper-towel dispenser at work has been replaced by a sensor-activated paper-towel dispenser.

What has this invention accomplished? If they couldn't install an air drier, couldn't they have just put up one or two of those old-fashioned metal things where the janitor or whoever's around puts the stack of paper towels in and closes it, and then people can just pick the paper towels they desire right through the widened slot at the bottom? You'd probably have to refill those more often, but so what? Makes more sense than replacing a simple push-handle with (what's probably) an expensive thing that's likely to spend more time on the fritz than......well, than me trying to think of something funny to compare that to. To me, anyway.

C'est la Feline

Perhaps it was just some odd psychological fluke; perhaps he had some ancient Egyptian heritage of which he was unaware; all Richard knew was that he loved cats. Their appearances, their textures, their lack of odors, their mostly calm yet skeptical attitudes, and their relative independence — everything about them struck a euphonious chord in his mind. But although he occasionally had the opportunity to visit other people and their cats, he never had a cat that he could call his own...or maybe he could never be called any particular cat’s own. That, after all, is how cats seem to work, as it were.

At least, that’s the impression he had gotten. Of his two parents, one was allergic, and the other was simply stubborn, closed-minded, and not at all fond, or indeed tolerant, of anything feline. They had no problem with certain types of dogs, though. They had two pets of the canine persuasion, but, as amicable as they were, they were clearly not at all the same to Richard. Noisy, stinky creatures that sometimes have to go out in the mud and cold, pouring rain just to relieve themselves. Who needs this? Richard thought. Eventually, though, after spending enough time with the dogs...hey, they may have some cons, but they’re not totally despicable...Richard became mostly numb to his previous desires and carried on with his life as nearly any human would do.

Richard found himself pursuing reading and writing in college. He worked a few ordinary, menial jobs throughout his studies, and he seldom thought of the future. Of course, few could have foreseen the economic depression that lay not far from his graduation.

Despite being armed with a college degree, nobody seemed interested in his potential services. No employers in any fields that held his interest were hiring, and he wasn’t about to pursue a job he knew he wouldn’t enjoy. He held on to his old job at the dry-cleaners on Western for a while, but the income from that would not grant him independence. He was able to stay with an old classmate from one of his earlier poetry classes. Jimmy was a nice guy, but sometimes his wildly eclectic musical tastes would drive even the most radical hippie totally batty. The headphones may have been the one thing that preserved their relative friendliness.

Richard started to approach “totally batty” himself when he was informed that the dry-cleaners would be closing. Where would he go now? No one was hiring, and he clearly could not stay anywhere. Damn this world, he thought. The worlds my head creates in my dreams are so much better. I should just sleep all the time, so I can spend my time there instead of in this hell.

After much pleading and reasoning with his family, his aunt finally agreed to take him in. She was not so keen on the arrangement given the circumstances, but she was essentially kind-hearted, and she decided that a little bit of company would do her good; her husband had been killed in a freak accident on the Kennedy a number of years ago, and her only son had moved to Denver. So, Richard would remain on the dole and with his aunt. He would wander the city on weekday mornings and afternoons in search of work, and he would spend most of the rest of his time either asleep or vacantly nibbling on cheap food. In fact, as the days wore on, he would put less and less effort into his search, and sometimes he would simply stay home and let it all blow away in the wind. He had largely ceased to care about much of anything, even letting his hair and beard grow long and scraggly.

One day, Richard got up at around noon. He headed down to the kitchen and served himself a can of tuna and a glass of cool tap water. He ate quite intently, seldom noticing any of his surroundings. Not that there was much worth paying attention to, of course; the house was otherwise quiet and unoccupied for the time being, and nothing beyond the windows could bring him peace of mind. He ate and drank his fill, then walked back upstairs.

As he passed the mirror, he caught sight of his reflection. Just for a brief moment, an odd thought struck him as he gazed at his hairy body with its long whiskers and fairly simple mind. This quickly subsided, though. He didn’t care. As long as he was fed and could retreat into his own dreamworld, everything was fine.

He hopped onto the bed, curled up, and went back to sleep.

One of the things I miss about childhood: Baby wipes.

Dreams from Chicago

The lecture hall had been terminally conquered by severly disturbed, numerous, and narcissistic vandals. All over every wall, every step, every table side, there were repulsive, creepy photographs of strange people.....alien life forms, as far as I was concerned. How about the floor? Could there be a safe escape route down there somewhere? I was about halfway down when I was suddenly greeted by a bright, black, shiny diamond in a cave of coal. She was beautiful—an adorable little nose and the most perfect pair of eyes, eyes that screamed sanity and reason. We greeted each other with open paws, and she raised a paw and cast aside the scary apparitions.

Crowded tables. What the hell were all those kids doing at a meeting like this? I bid a not unkind farewell to my mother's coworker, hopped in the old red car that died two years ago, and plopped onto my bed, which was resplendent in its big blue blanket and adjacent to the old bookshelf which featured books with curiously colored spines.....books that, oddly enough, I don't remember either buying or inheriting.

Wait a minute.....I thought I was in Chicago. What am I doing back in my bed already? Is Spring Break over? I haven't even seen Lily, gone to Margie's Candies, or gotten the new Pretty Things "Phillipe Debarge" CD. Okay, I know time flies, but not at the speed of Zeppelin. I'm bloody well in Chicago, and I'm going to get that CD.

I could feel myself slipping on something. It felt like my bed.........well, it felt like a bed. Maybe I was slipping through a wormhole back to my hometown. Any moment now, I should see the morning light shining through the little window with the brown curtains around it.

Ah, much better. Morning light......the sound of someone showering.....that's more like it. Come to think of it, it sounds and looks like both of the showers are running. I thought there were only two of us. Is someone downstairs? I hear noises that suggest it. Is something happening here? Am I missing something?

No. Nothing is happening. I know this because the morning light is once again shining through the little window with the brown curtains around it. Only this time, it is real. Or at least as close to real as anything else I could perceive. The sounds of water had subsided, and now the only sound that remained was a faint thing that sounded like a cross between a child learning to speak and......and......someone.......singing. You know who that is......

I guess they're called "soap operas" because they make me want to take a shower.....

Feeling Better When I'm Feeling No Pain

Okay, so there is still some decent ice cream in town. What I think it is is a series of stores masquerading as independent entities but still obviously (by looking at the flavors) one company. Nevertheless, that "Birthday Cake" flavor really hit the spot for me yesterday afternoon. And the chocolate with brownie bits in it, whatever that one was called, was pretty good too. Not exactly my beloved Chocolate Fudge, but I doubt there will ever again be anything quite like that one.........

.......Anyway, I saw Gordon Lightfoot in concert last night. He had four guys accompany him on lead guitar, bass, percussion and keyboard. He seemed to be fairly comfortable, tossing in just a little bit of casual talk with the audience between songs. And, of course, the songs themselves were nice and varied, a mixture of old and new, soft and relatively upbeat, and a couple "back-to-nature" songs. On the whole, a fine show, with some quite beautiful sounds on some of the songs, and a few songs I hadn't heard in a looooooong time.......you know that feeling you get when you hear a song you haven't heard in years? Such a great feeling, isn't it?

Yeah, I gotta listen to those records that are on my shelf........

Progress! (Part One)

(Yeah, I retitled this one.......)

Simple billboards are being replaced by expensive electronic things that change the displayed image every few seconds so that, I'm guessing, the average American doesn't have enough time to process any given image.

Just Some Ordinary Blog Stuff

Some time ago, for about four years, I worked at a stand-alone Baskin & Robbins. They always had the widest variety of distinct, quality flavors, and making an ice cream cake without the cake (called a "fudge nut," even if the nuts were replaced by sprinkles) was NOT a big deal; we had it done the next day, usually without fail. In fact, some of them were ready-made and proudly displayed in the cake freezer.

Of course, that stand-alone Baskin & Robbins is now as ancient history as Caesar or Napoleon. As is the other stand-alone Baskin & Robbins that once graced the east side of town.

The two B&Rs left in this town are both sort of halves of Siamese twins, the other halves of which are Dunkin' Donuts stores. Having worked at a B&R for four years, I know full well how things are supposed to work there.

I went to one of the B&Rs today; it was like entering the Twilight Zone. I asked for a fudge nut cake, and they asked me what it was. I explained, quite clearly, I thought, what it was and how to make it. Just use the cutter, shear off two notches' worth of a Mint Chocolate Chip tub (that's my father's preferred flavor; it's his birthday on Thursday), put it on a round white cardboard thing, remove the bit of tub that surrounds the ice cream, smooth some fudge on top with a thick swirl near the edges, sprinkle some sprinkles (or nuts) on the sides and the thick swirl, write a message on top in your favorite color (red always looks nice) with the proper frosting, and put the whole thing in a 9" box. That's all there is to it.

They refused to make it.

I didn't bother to count the small number of flavors that they had there; it would have hurt too much. It's a lovely day today, and I can really do without such pain. Back at the one where and when I worked, we had a maximum of forty-seven flavors, and, with the possible exception of the occasional "sugar free" flavor (and that "chocolate ribbon" thing, which, thankfully, didn't last), they were real, intense flavors that you could taste and savor. Most of the flavors that remain now are the most boring things imaginable, and I can't help but wonder if any of the seasonal flavors still exist. Love Potion #31, Egg Nog, Pumpkin Pie......those were frickin' awesome flavors. And, of course, my beloved Chocolate Fudge.......rich, dark, gooey.......the way chocolate should be. It's not really any of the "seasons" right now, so I can't tell right away, but my beloved Chocolate Fudge, a year-round flavor where I worked, seems to be totally extinct in my town now. Last time I saw Chocolate Fudge was when I took a drive out to Springfield....was it, two years ago now? I don't remember.......but somewhere on MacArthur Boulevard in Springfield, a little ways north of Penny Lane (the main, and perhaps only, reason anyone would want to go to Springfield*), a stand-alone Baskin & Robbins remains. Hopefully.

I don't know just how interesting this is to anyone, but I could go on and on and on about ice cream........

Anyway, I have a ticket to see Gordon Lightfoot in concert tomorrow.

Peace...........


*The Lincoln Museum is okay, but that and Penny Lane aside, Springfield seems very much a wasteland, with empty parking lots and chain stores, and very few signs of life. And since I just discovered while creating this post that Penny Lane does indeed do business online, you can just take advantage of that and not waste time driving through an endless lack of scenery to a largely empty ghost town.

Poem (not a very imaginative title, I know; I'll come up with something)

Beautiful flower
So smooth and red
It holds my eye hostage
And plays with my head
Yet were I to touch it
I'd probably crush it
Beautiful flower........

I think my anti-virus software uninstalled Word!

Gates bless System Restore......

Me Dealing With People

I was hungry.......

.....Yeah, classic humor right there, right?.......

.....so, for the first time ever, I decided to try ordering delivery over the internet. Luckily, the particular place I was ordering from gave me the option to pay with cash, since I don't have a credit card......but that's beside the point. I was at work, and, apparently, I needed something else to have enough of a charge to have it delivered, so I offered, and one co-worker went ahead and added her order of choice to the bill.

Again, I don't have much experience with this sort of thing.

When the guy arrived, the two of us discussed our respective parts of the payment. She mentioned tip.......an ancient custom about which I had totally forgotten. I said something along the lines of "Oh.....yeah. Sorry.....I'm still getting used to this modern world." The guy's response to this was "What, were you born yesterday?"

"Basically, yes," I instinctively responded. I have my own ideas of spirituality and who-knows-what, into which I won't go here. Anyway, before he left, I told him, "It's all right; you don't know me."

I think, perhaps, it is much to his pleasure that I'm not ordering from them again anytime soon.

IGNORE THIS POST (This isn't the answer either...)

A while ago, I posted this question on here, and, naturally, got no response....well, no matter....I have a theory.....

When I leave the house, I leave the computer logged on under someone else's name. When I get to work, I log on as me and just kick off the other "user". The audio has worked every time so far since I started doing that.

Of course, I usually fail to do consecutive Remote Desktop sessions; I just do one at work and then come back home. But I may try, perhaps the next time I head into the city, to enable a remote connection for another user on this computer and then just keep kicking the other user or myself off as necessary.

Again, this is just a theory. I still fail to understand the logic of audio not always working the way it ought to via Remote Desktop. But I feel it's worth a shot.

Best of luck to anyone who has had this problem and might somehow stumble upon this obscure blog.....

Are there any text books that have original thoughts these days? I see all these footnotes, references, etc.......I get the feeling that, over time, the whole thing becomes like a game of "Telephone," where each person slightly changes the thoughts of their sources, until the most modern sources have totally garbled and unreliable information.

I work as a "text converter" (i.e. converting textbooks to electronic formats that people with certain disabilities can read/listen to), so I see quite a lot of textbooks........and who knows how many footnotes and references........

As Humane as is Deemed Sanitary

One of my mother's friends wanted to go to the "humane society" (an interesting name, I think, for a place that houses forgotten pets) to look at dogs after his own dog suddenly died last week. I tagged along with him and my mother, and, of course, I went to visit the cats while my mother and her friend went in the back to the dog section (which, I discovered later, has its own, um, "scent"; I suppose that would be inevitable....). They have a couple of sections where we can basically go in and freely mingle with the four or five cats that are in each of the two sections. While I was in one of the "cuddle rooms," I just sat for a moment and gazed at one particular cat who was on the window sill, staring out at the dreary, rainy-day plains with bare trees. I couldn't help but wonder what someone in his (I think it was a "he") position might have been thinking, stuck in a room like that, looking out at a grey sky and a sort of brown-and-yellow ground (Cats probably don't know from "brown" and "yellow," do they...?). Is this the best of all possible worlds? Is there something nice and worthwhile beyond these walls? It reminded me so much of me.....

.....But they were all nice cats there, although a few of them slept through my entire time there. I'm not the sort of person to disturb sleeping cats, although some younger people who patronize the Humane Society apparently are..... Anyway, one black cat cuddled up in my lap for a little while, and shortly thereafter, a much younger cat, about seven months old, I think, who sort of resembled Lily (picture link) but with more black, eagerly grabbed my fingers and gently teethed on them. She was quite adorable.

I could go on and on about cats.......

.....I'll just say that Lucy fails to have a problem with me smelling like other cats.

I am not interested in the octuplets or their mother.

A word of advice....

Do not store tea in one of those port-a-cups with lids for longer than, say, three hours. Man, that smell is going to haunt me for days.......

Nothing kills a good mood like my browser refusing to work.

(Thankfully, a reboot fixed it.....)

Pink Floyd - A Momentary Lapse of Reason (a quick review by ~C.A.~)

This seems to me to generally not be all that appreciated. I think perhaps it's another victim of people's tendencies to compare albums to other albums that bear the same artist name. I happen to think this album is a fine piece of spaced-out rock. I suppose the mid-to-late-Eighties production on this thing can be a bit of a turn-off at times; nevertheless, I think this album does carry a certain, spooky, far-out vibe about it that is especially amplified on days when the weather leaves something to be desired. Try it....some dark afternoon....

Oh, Baby!

Okay, NOW I've felt the fresh air of a spring(like) day. Far out.

On the bus today, I saw a baby. Ordinarily, I don't think much of babies...or children of any age, for that matter...but this was the sort of child that inspired high-quality mainstream records (no, that's not an oxymoron). She had wide eyes that contained separate worlds....galaxies all their own. Everything about her struck a euphonious chord. A kindred spirit.....wanting only to be happy and at peace.

Her parents and I didn't say a word to each other. The smiles said it all.

You ever suddenly feel the fresh air of a lovely day in late spring when the flowers have mostly bloomed and love is in the air, even though you're stuck indoors in the middle of winter?

mp3 host?

I realized yesterday, with Alex's help, that the mp3 host I had been using for my songs, boomp3.com, seems to no longer have any audio capabilities.....or uploading capabilities, for that matter.....meaning that the songs I had posted here are no longer available. Anyone know another good mp3 host that would fit this blog nicely? Or should I just create a MySpace page and be done with it?

Defective Show

Latest idea: "Monk" meets "Life on Mars." What could be better than Adrian Monk working with Gene Hunt in New York in 1973? It's a natural!

I'm as #@&%ed up as the day is short.

I think that, depending on one's appetite, one should be able to choose between either a loss of wisdom teeth or a larger mouth that can accommodate the extra teeth.

(Okay, I'll shut up about the teeth now.)

Last night, I dreamt I was eating large quantities of nuts.

......Not such a good dream to have when you've just had your wisdom teeth out......

Wow..............I don't know what's going on, but everything I'm listening to sounds slooooooowed down.......and I'm not listening to tapes or records......What is this????