Click images for desktop size: "Elephant" by Unknown I like movies from the early sixties. They were momentous movies and big stories that were only about people.
It was the bigness of ourselves that gave the stories their weight, the importance of ourselves to ourselves and to each other that made the morals important. The universe didn't have to be in jeopardy to keep our interest because there was enough universe in each of us to make any story interesting.
There was time to smile and laugh and tragedy didn't always mean that life could only end in death. It was a more complicated time because we were a more social race then. We were smarter and had to be better educated in order to survive and thrive in a world were madness only burbled over a distant horizon, instead of at our doorstep.
One such movie I can always quote is "Soldier In The Rain". It doesn't follow all of my guidelines but it's still pretty indicative. It starts out a light hearted military comedy but then, for a period grows dark. The dramatic impetus is the death of Steve McQueens dog, Donald.
We never see Donald in the movie, except for a small snapshot, but he is an overriding presence in the story, a thing that is real but also encapsulates all the hopes and dreams of a man, because that is simply what dog's do.
Loaded with grief Mcqueen retreats to his local bar to have a beer because that is what men do to swallow their grief. There, a few bar flies begin chatting him up trying to hustle some free drinks. McQueen talks about Donald and the bar flies give unconvincing support. McQueen talks in sad rapture about Donald and then orders a round for the barflies, He stands up and smiles then says, "Mister, you never had you no dog."
It's a scene from a moire that stayed with me since I was 8. A good scene that made a kid think about the awesomeness of a dog's love and the depth and capacity of a man's ability to love.
And today it reaffirms how much I love my little puppy.
With the Republican party leading the charge to try and tell us how we have to live instead of just giving us rules to co-exist by with each of us free to choose how to live I remain eternally grateful for dogs and the innocence of amateur sports.
Click images for desktop size: "Kong-Skull Island" by Unknown
My puppy was eight years old on Tuesday. I look at her and I still see the skunky little puppy who demanded obedience and treats.
First time we met she bit me. Drew blood. She bit me and glared at me defiantly, from then on we were best friends. Shortly thereafter she got rejected by her mother and she ran to me for protection and an explanation.
When we were separated because of my heart attack and my eternal grief with governments we met again after six months. Six months where we were never permitted to say goodbye. She looked at me with terror and she bit me. When she was convinced I was not a zombie she leaned against me for pets.
A dog looks at you without prejudice. I love my wife but when she looks at me I know that she sees me through her lifetime of pain, hurts and joys. It's the only way we can look at anyone. We're only human. But dogs can look at you with nothing but love.
For eight years I've been blessed with a puppy who did anything she could to please me. She made me laugh. She commiserated when I was sad. She showed me that I could be more than I had any right to be.

Posted by David at 9:46 PM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Eerie 1967" by Frank Frazetta I was watching "Law & Order: Criminal Intent" and there was this really ancient guy who they're debating whether he was killed or suicided. The solution was that he couldn't have suicided! He took 14 pills a day! That was the only fact they needed.
I take 14 pills a day.

My puppy got a bath on Friday. She spent all of Friday hating me and blaming me. Of course she waited until I had rescued her from the sadistic groomer! Then its safe to hate me.
Can't blame her for that.
She looks great. She's been blowing coat in this maddening heat. They got her all brushed out, nails trimmed. She's just as beautiful as I imagine her.
I can never get over how easily she forgives me for the wrongs, and the perceived wrongs, I've done her. My puppy cares about me, rejoices in me.
It's reciprocal.

I suppose the biggest deal this week though is my job.
They fired the supervisor for theft. I was surprised and disappointed by that. And then shocked by the depth and amount of the theft, as well as the duration.
I've successfully avoided any sort of supervisor/management responsibilities at this job but this time, as much as I tried to avoid it, I'm stuck.
At first I thought I was going to get out of it easily. Thier initial offer of a promotion would have entailed a fifty cent an hour DECREASE in my current salary. Somehow they were unaware that I already earned more than the mamgers and supervisors.

Click images for desktop size: "Flux" by MX Steel They fixed the offer and made a few other concessions so now I'm it.
The major thing for me is going back to working during the day. I start at 8:00 AM now instead of midnight. I'm hoping this does something to fix my constant fatigue. Maybe not but who knows.
It will be an adjustment I figure. No longer moving quietly through the dark nights and no longer dealing with crack heads and drunks with a violent attitude. Or at least not dealing with them when they're in full roar to their addictions.
I figure the little bit of extra money will go to the immigration lawyers.

Posted by David at 6:18 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Minnesota Canning Company" by Andrew Wyeth Life has been a chore lately. Debilitating heat and sweat mixed with hopeless rage and mercurial hopes.
Its like not much to walk 6 miles in a day but, nowadays, ending and starting your outside world day with that long walk and for it to be that way for 2 years is a feat, a testament to toughness and a gateway to helplessness. Independence comes at that cost most of the time.
My days have become tossing and turning in baed for 10 hours trying to get 4 hours of sleep. Then I walk around near zombie-ish for the rest of the day while I head into trying nights at work. It's a living.
So, I've been spending my idle thought cycles contemplating dogs. My puppy in particular and the species in general.
It's not that complicated. I'm not really capable of that complicated a thought process, pretty much like dogs. I'm reading this book about the emotional life of dogs: "For the Love of a Dog: Understanding Emotion in You and Your Best Friend" by Patricia B. McConnell, PhD. -whew- that's a mouthful and so is the book.
It gets pretty laboured at times especially when it tries to justify things that we intuit are right and good but really have no apt words to describe. The greatest pleasures in the book are when they codify, justify and give weight to things we already knew about dogs but were generally met with derision or at least sceptism by people who don't have it in them to be able to love another species.
I've never been able to grasp why not being able to love another species is considered cool, especially in the Judeo Christian ultra religious circle. Maybe loving an abstract that depends on faith wears out all their brain pan so they the synapses are too fatigued to love something that is standing at their side watching them with loving eyes. (I blame Thomas Aquinas a lot for this and
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Unknown the endless tripe this ancient bastard spewed out that became accepted as dogma. His whack job insistence that dogs had no more soul than a chair leg is so mean spirited and cause for so much cruelty that one can only hope he's wandering the same circle of hell as child rapists.)
I guess the best part of the book are those chunks that make you go, "HAH! I knew it!" I, for one, always enjoy being able to toss around a book with actual words that defend and protect my position on abstract and obscure matters.
I don't think that the book will convince the animal haters or move the stupider or shake the faith of those who condemn dogs to the same role as furniture and fashion accessories. It might convince doggie agnostics but just might. One thing that's annoying is that McConnell works most often with working dogs and justifies the working dog as the pinnacle of doggie achievement. My puppy is a working breed and I still feel that is hog wash. Dogs are dogs and selective breeding (further proof of evolution?) might have certain purebreds crazier than others, and selective breeding may have distilled certain traits, in my experience dogs are dogs. While I might find acclimating to a Belgium shepherd easier as I know what to expect from specific breed traits there is no doubt that each of the Belgiums who've I've met and have lived with have been as different as human beings are different.
Environment, expectations and education have a greater impact than fur or skin color.
I also think McConnell comes close to but shows the timidity of all
Click images for desktop size: "Brenner & Kerr" over academic thinkers. She comes close to but shies away from the logical conclusion that dogs have a certain amount of reasoning and rough intelligence. I think that all emotions and their grade and intensity are predicated on intelligence anyway.
Sadly the idea that an animal has the ability to reason, that they have an ability to discern the difference between right and wrong is earth shattering and controversial. Rah! It isn't. I mean that mutant weasel who shot Congresswoman Gifford was found unfit to stand trial as he couldn't tell the difference between right and wrong (although he was sane enough to buy and own powerful hand guns??). I think my puppies are all capable of that sort of numbskull decision. The fact that they don't bite and crush our hands when they don't get the treats they want is proof of that.
Animal behaviorists like to ascribe that complicated thought process to simple learned behavior. Which is scardey cat twaddle or it can be put down that all humans are simple behavior machines. I reject that theory out of hand, except in the case of mutant weasels.
Like the giant dog has a joke. He likes to go to the door and act like he needs to go outside to go to the bathroom but as soon as you get to the door he spins around and jumps up on the couch and
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Unknown laughs and laughs.
It his joke. It's not a great joke at all but it's nearly as good as the jokes 4 and 5 year old humans have inflicted on me.
It also knocks the behaviorists theory for a loop. The only thing giant dog gets out of his joke is that he gets to laugh at you for getting up out of the chair. He gets satisfaction from convincing us he had to go to the bathroom. He gets no food, no treats, no physical satisfaction at all except the ability to laugh at us.
As to thought he had to imagine the result. He had to desire that result and logic out a way to arrive at that result. This is a creative complicated thought process with the payoff being laughter and amusement.
I wish the joke were better but he's just a dog.

I've also added a new guitarist to my pantheon. Evan Foster of Boss Martians, Mystery Action and a stunning solo Surf album.
The Boss Martians are his main band but he's bursting with so many riffs that he starts as many side projects as Jack White! But Evan is cleaner and edgier than White. At first its not obvious how stunning Evan's guitar skills are. He believes, like me, that the song is the main thing, so his riffs are designed to make your jaw drop, they're designed to serve the song and let the tune rip your heart out. Avoid him at your peril.
His twisted cover of Link Wray's, "Fire And Brimstone" shows he has chops to better anybody, while his album "Instrumentals" is a maniacal take on reverb drenched excess.

One bright dot on the landscape is that I'm broke. Broke because I gave all my money to an immigration lawyer who seems very confident that my wife will be an American green card holder before Christmas.
That still makes me feel buoyant and happy.
Now it just has to happen and I will be happy.

Posted by David at 2:21 PM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "The Earth" by Milad I was in hospital last weekend.
Tight chest pain, dizziness and weird pain through out the left side of my body. It felt like the side of my face that got paralyzed was turning into melting wax.
I started to work and decided I couldn't make it. So I took the doc's advice and turned left instead of right. Ended up at the emergency room.
The good news is that I wasn't having a stroke or a heart attack. The bad news is that I wasn't having a stroke or a heart attack but I'm now on the hook for all the tests that told them whether I was having a stroke or a heart attack.
They kept me over night. I'm not fond of hospitals. Not fond of many doctors either. If you remember the War in Grenada. Reagan's "Little" War. They sent in the marines to rescue some medical students . . . Rich kids who were too stupid to get into a real school. I mean they were so stupid that their rich parents couldn't even pull strings to get them into a real school, so they paid huge fees to go to this butcher shop in Grenada so they could pull strings to get their dumb kids a license to practice medicine and become self supporting.
I mean these kids were so dumb that their parents could get a war declared but they couldn't get them into a real medical school in America.
Every time I get a real stupid doctor, and they out number the good ones, I always ask them if they studied medicine in Grenada. I haven't met any yet but I have met two went to med schools in the Caribbean. I asked to see other doctors.
So after wasting a night and a day in hospital where I was pretty much ignored I went home. My puppy was glad to see me. Odd thing was that she hadn't defecated since I'd been gone and she had refused to play with her Kong. I thought she loved her Kong. I guess she only loves to tease me with the Kong. Maybe my puppy thinks I love the Kong.

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Thomas Brechler I sleep in a single bed. I don't usually move around much so I'm comfortable in one. My puppy is comfortable in one too except she doesn't share and will seldom spend any time on the bed with me. When I lie down when I got home she jumped up and rested her head on my stomach and refused to move. She woke me once howling in her sleep but went right back to rest easy. I hope she wasn't dreaming about me.
I went back to work that week. It was hard. I still feel badly.
On Friday they sent me to see more doctors. More EKG's, more blood drawn, more tests, more physicals.
Theblood takers bugged me. The primary one commented on how young and tight my skin was then called over two others to see and touch me. It was embarrassing as well as making me feel put upon. I think they might have been trying to be complimentary but that is possibly just a hope. They also sent me to an endocrinologist. I don't recall ever seeing one of those before. He was interesting, cautious but open with his instincts. They're doing all sorts of tests and will let me know the results in a letter or a phone call and then set up a follow up appointment. They said I need more protein. They also said I'm still in remission. They also pulled me from the drug trial for some pretty obvious reasons. I asked if this meant they were revoking their six year life expectancy guarantee. He said something that made me laugh. "I see at least three times they've given up on you. It seems there's no good reason you survived your second heart attack and with no treatment. I don't think anyone would ever bet against you."
They gave me another pill to take. I know take 11 in the morning and three at night. Lots of chemicals.
My puppy doesn't care so long as she gets fed. I approve of her attitude.

Posted by David at 1:43 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Marta Dahlig I did my blood work on Friday. They take too much blood. That night the fasting and the blood loss made me wake up with the shakes and the night sweats. Since it was in the mid 50's being drenched with sweat was disconcerting. My puppy, who know matter what anyone says is a good girl and very crazy, took care of me and watched over me.
The blood work was as annoying as usual. They always have to stick me too many times to find a vein. The person drawing the blood kept talking about how tight my skin was. I asked what she meant by that. No one had ever called me a tight skinned anything before. It was a good thing, a compliment I guess. I might have taken it better if the nurse in charge hadn't put me through the usual tom foolery about how I don't look as sick as I am.
Won't get the results for a while. Have to get them online. Internet age. A curious thing, I think sometimes.

My wife has a new foster dog. An all white shepherd looking girl. The white girl dog was rescued from some well meaning but neglectful
Click images for desktop size: "Unknown Goth" abusive owners who thought they were doing the right thing . . .
The white girl is doing okay. She has issues. How could she not. She doesn't get along with the giant dog, which is understandable but she also has issues with the gentle dog. That is not understandable.
Still, experience dictates things will calm down and mellow. Dogs are too much like people sometimes. You take a small scared person and drop them into an established family and you know what happens.
Everybody reacts differently and yet we all react the same. Most, but not all, abused creatures including people are scared. When they come into a new situation from an abusive one they spend an amazing amount of energy either succumbing to the further abuse they anticipate or, the healthier ones, doing whatever they can to try and stop the abuse from ever happening again.

Click images for desktop size: "Purple Angel" by Artemis Rosakis Both types of people will usually respond to some calm and some laughs. They just need the space to be jerks and in a short time, shorter for dogs, when they don't get the terror they expect in response they give up the act. Some are too terribly abused and it takes more to get through to them, but they can be gotten through to if the goal is to let them be happy and not to control them.
I think the white girl will fit in well enough until she finds her forever home and that's all I ever ask.

One surprising effect of the great movie :I Saw The Devil" (which my wife thought was bleh) is the typical Asian rip offs of it. A sub genre exploring the tenets and roots of evil and fighting evil when just being good is nowhere near enough?
Jeong-beom Lee's "The Man From Nowhere" could never have existed with "I Saw The Devil". That doesn't stop it from being great. It actually benefits from the association and uses some shorthand to amplify its effects. Iy also uses a similar shorthand referring to Bresson's "Leon" to good effect.
Lee leaves most of the weighty stuff behind but gets plenty of good enough actors to give the timbre in the scenes.
Bin Won plays a former secret agent who left the service when his wife, pregnant with a girl, is killed in retaliation for one of his assignments. Won responds by becoming a ghost. He runs a pawn shop. He lives in the back of the shop and touches no one.
His clientele are junkies and thieves. One drug addict hooker has a little girl. Won has a safe affection for the little girl but keeps her at arms length. He barks at her and bullies her. She fills his iPod with music, for a fee and pawns her mothers things for drug money.
One day the mother gets involved in a drug heist. She is way over her head as the owners of the drugs want them back. She sticks the drugs in a camera case and has her daughter pawn the case to keep them safe.
After the gangsters show up to get the drugs this becomes a rip roaring action tale and its awesome, never letting the message get in the way of some terrific and terrifying fights. The message is pretty simple: The world is a terrible place and it is up to all of us to look after each other, especially for the strong to protect the weak.
The other rip=off movie that rates highly with me is Ching-Po Wong's :Revenge: A Love Story". Not surprisingly the title also describes the plot.
The movie starts with Juno Mak murdering women, pregnant women in the vilest most inhumane fashion possible. He slashes the women open and rips the near term fetuses from their bodies. He
Click images for desktop size: "Pirate Pattern" by Pirate Boy then throws the fetuses into the river.
The murders are brutal and excruciating. We soon discover that the dead women's husbands are all cops, not only cops but cops on the same team. And just when we're about to settle in for a good ol' serial killer type film there's a shift. The cops catch Mak and after brutally torturing him we see, in flashback, the reason for these heinous crimes.
What we see is unexpected, terrifying and tear inducing. There's no way to prepare for the reality of the situation presented here other than it's more than just tragic. Its presented in a totally believable way and is guaranteed to score the soul.
A few American reviewers have trashed the movie as being pretentious, a B action movie with A movie aspirations. I say, so what?
It separates itself into sections introduced by Bhuddist koans. I think this makes some uncomfortable and needing to write the whole thing off.
It explores evil at his most common denominator. And it does so with a grim purpose to force us to have an understanding of humanity and with all understanding comes a dark price: Forgiveness.

Posted by David at 1:26 PM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Deep Sea Hunting" by Photoneu I saw a picture of my puppy. I was slightly stunned to see how mature, elegant and regal she looked.
When I look at her I still see her as a little puppy, the little girl who played "Alligator: with me, where she'd hide under the bed and try and pull me into her "swamp".
The serious little girl who stayed with me in the hospital growling at the nurses when they came in and constantly looking up and checking on me. The puppy who went to therapy dog school and played tricks on me but still tried her hardest to please me. And the young lady who won a second level discipline obedience class while never having attended any obedience classes.
I look at her and I see all those puppies and dogs and they shrink down into one who waits for me.
She's my dog. We belong to each other.
I miss my other two dogs plenty. The gentle dog misses me too. The giant dog . . . who knows what thoughts go through his brain.

I set my alarm clock to wake me with radio, then I set the station to a top 40 pop station. Nothing gets me out of bed faster than turning off a top 40 tune blaring from a cheap radio.
A few days ago I was startled to hear a Jason Mraz tune. I'm not a fan, but I'd been working on a tune for the past few weeks. I'm always working on a tune the past few weeks, at least in my head. This one I was stumbling around with the lyrics, trying to clarify and enunciate some feelings. The harder I worked on it the more obscure things became, until I heard this Jason Mraz track, "Lucky".
The chorus pretty well summed up everything I was struggling to say in verse after verse: "We feel lucky to be in love with our best friend".
And that was it. That was all I was trying to say.
I'm never too sure how I feel about having my lofty emotions perfectly encapsulated in a pop song . . . but there you go.

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Solamo Lopez I guess the lesson is to always say things as simply as possible and to avoid the glitter and too much deep thought. Hey, maybe Jason Mraz is a genius! I still work off the standard that anyone who can do something that I can't must be a genius. I still got ego.

I have been hearing some interesting music lately. I guess everyone is psyched by the Jack White/Wand Jackson collaboration. Watching the numerous videos is a two edged sword. Seeing Wanda, my adolescent throbbing need, be real 50 years later is too much for me to comprehend or accept. ut that's offset by Jack White. He's pulled together one of the best rock bands I've ever heard and with him DANCIN' around the stage in his cat clothes and playing band leader is as thrilling as being at the birth of rock itself.
The record's not bad either.
The other band is strange. they took their name from a Sonics' cut and even cover a Sonic's tune. And somehow they've become a country band??
I first heard "Boss Hoss" when someone sent me a demo of them covering the Rolling Stones' "Mother's Little Helper". I thought they were strange but great. I just assumed they were another garage revival band with enough talent and attitude to take things to their own level.
Their latest album is "Low Voltage" and its insane. The band looks like a 21st century Tex-Mex Salsa outfit. Too many guys in cowboy hats. The album is filled with brass, strings and fiddles, bass saxaphones and harmonicas and, of course, guitars filled with truck driver 8 part harmoney and it sounds about as country as the White Stripes meet the Beat Farmers. A distinctive and welcome sound.

That's it. Still working. Still suffering. Still trying to get my wife into this country (legally). And looking to survive the newer ages.

Posted by David at 5:28 PM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by William Wagner Yesterday my puppy and I went to get her picture taken with Santa Claus. We both had an uproarious time. Dozens of dogs and dozens of free cookies!
It was the sort of madness that restores sanity. I talked to a few people and talked to all of the dogs. My puppy was hands down the prettiest. Gilda, the sparkly red basset hound ballerina was the most stylish. An irish setter wore a striped Christmas sweater and the little 3 year old girl escorting him wore a matching outfit.
There was only one cat. That would have been a good thing except this one was so fat it should have counted as 3!
It felt hopeful and it felt like the holidays.
The best news is that we finally got a receipt number from Homeland Security for my wife's immigration application. The receipt number is important for all the other stuff to proceed. Like, with the receipt number I could impose on a senator to show an interest in the matter and maybe get this thing sped up a little bit.
No matter what I feel about the entire process it has to be done.
And my job . . . The law is still in place for my job to cease to be in 8 days! The owners last gasp hope rests in a lawsuit. They've used whatever influence high priced law firms have to get the matter heard before a judge they think will be friendly to their point of view, meaning, they expect him to grant an injunction letting them stay in business.
I'm of two minds about this. I want a job. I need a paycheck but these places have no sane or reasonable reason to exist. You can make more of an argument for how bad they are than any posit that they need to exist (except for greedy owners.)
So I'm up and down about the whole thing and just want it to end so we can move along one way or the other.

This is one of the cruddiest most bizarre seasons ever in the NFL. The lack of consistency from any
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Jim Steranko team and the on the fly rule changes make it hard to follow and impossible to predict. I was just watching the CBS pre game show and was surprised to discover that I've had more correct picks than any of the coaches and players on the panel!! For that matter so does my wife!!

My picks are in bold.

Chicago at Miami - The Dolphins are too depleted to stage any sort of threat to the Bears.

Buffalo at Cincinnati - The Bengals season just leaves me feeling sad. The Bills finally won one but you have to figure the Bengals have some pride left.

Detroit at Dallas - Cruddy game of the week. The Lions need a healthy Matt Stafford to compete. The Cowboys won big and look incredibly boring doing it.

Oakland at Pittsburgh - The Raiders on't have the talent to expose the Steelers weaknesses but I still think this will be a closer game than most figure.

Houston at the New York Jets - The Jets are one of the few teams playing to their potential. All games are must win for them as they're fighting to be Superbowl contenders. They have the tools to shut down the Texans.


Click images for desktop size: "Gene Kelly & Cyd Charisse" Baltimore at Carolina - The Panthers are starting an 8 year vet who's played in 5 games in those 8 years . . . Destruction and mayhem are in the cards.

Cleveland at Jacksonville - The Jaguars are playing good football. The Browns only beat elite teams.

Washington at Tennessee - The Titans Chris Johnson must be dreaming of setting records today.

Arizona at Kansas City - The Cardinals are the classic example of a coach thinking he's more important than a team.

Green Bay at Minnesota - My upset of the week. Brett Favre is near the end of the string. He'll want to remember this game.


Click images for desktop size: "The Beggar" by Unknown Atlanta at St Louis - Many are picking the Rams at home. Not crazy at all but Matt Ryan and the Falcons have risen to every challenge thus far.

Seattle at New Orleans - The only way the Saints lose is if the Reggie Bush-Pete Carroll connection overwhelms the sense of team.

Tampa Bay at San Francisco - This is a game of the week contender! Go figure.

Indianapolis at New England - Game of the week but only because of the history of Brady vs Manning, Billichek vs the Colts etc.

Denver at San Diego - Kyle Orton is playing better than Jay Cutler and the rest of the Broncos like to sit back and watch him . . . Same for the Chargers and Phil Rivers.

New York Giants 24 at Philadelphia 28 - I hate the Eagles but they are fast and the Giants are not.

Posted by David at 1:26 PM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Unknown I'm getting a lot of mail and questions. Some from strangers, some from people that I love. "You dead?" to "Did you give up blogging?"
No.
I'm just tired. Hard tired.
Everyday thoughts go through my head; since I can't write them down, get them from there to here, they stay in my head.
In my skull thoughts get crowded. They swirl around until they form a primordial mélange. Working nights leaves me constantly sleepy. After work, in the morning, I care for my puppy; dose myself with my drugs; stick myself in the belly with insulin needles; answer as many emails as I can (more for my puppy than myself - it's more important that the kids know she, my puppy, is fine and swaggering); look for another job; deal with things I have to deal with and then fall into disturbed and anxious sleep.
I toss and jumble myself while trying to rest. And the thoughts settle into their confused sparking mélange and the past stays merged with the present.
The job in the Quasi-Casino has disrupted the undemanding plan for my life. Survival; traded my life plan for survival. We have to do that too much.

There are things I can't forget that need remembering.

I was walking with my puppy in the dark, before work, on a warm and windless night, when we heard a strange noise. Can't describe it. It wasn't noise it was just a sound, a vibration in the ground. Then by street lamp and moonlight we watched a 35 foot tree snap off the trunk 8 feet off the ground and crash to earth.
My puppy and I were enchanted. The owner of the tree's backyard came running out. Ruined a bit of
Click images for desktop size: "Betty Page" by William George the atmosphere. All I remember about our conversation is that he said "wow" a lot.

It was time for my puppy's annual physical. She was fine. The vet gives you a little sheet detailing all the various tests and things. At the bottom Dr K wrote, "She IS great!" with "is" double underlined.
My puppy is always so happy. She makes me happy even when she repeats her same old jokes a dozen times a day.
There was a fairly recent report revisiting the intelligence of dogs. They now figure dogs can remember over 250 words and have a general intellect comparable to a human 3 year old.
That's easy to accept. A combination of better testing techniques, evolution and better breeding practices.
The AKC used to start their description of Belgian Shepherds with the unequivacable statement, "the most intelligent breed."
Politics costs Belgians that statement, but politics can't take away their dark chimp like eyes and unyielding affections.
My puppy loves her kong. That's a hard rubber toy. Two years ago my puppy lost her kong in a snow drift. My puppy loves her kong; not any kong only her kong.
There was a snowstorm recently. At the height of the storm my
Click images for desktop size: "Lucille Ball" puppy got frantic. She insisted on going out. She ran to a pile of snow, dug for a minute and came out of the hole with her kong in her mouth. She trotted inside, giving me the eye as she brought her outside toy to the inside. It had to be inside, she had to know it was safe.
What impresses me is that she pulled an event from 2 years ago; saw it as a problem and came up with a solution.

Went to the doctor. Part of my heart is dead. Not the part that hates or the part that loves.
Got the bill for my emergency room visit: 20 minutes - $4,780. Yeah.
We don't need health care reform. Hospitals are as trustworthy as Wall Street Banks.

I saw one of the best pro "rasslin'" matches ever recently. On this alternative show, "Ring of Honor."
The show is cool. Kind of gritty, kind of cheap and highly entertaining. It's not as comic book-y or stupid as the generic WWE bizzaro world.
ROH does less talking and more yelling. They play the little dramas faster and with more intensity.
In the last WWE show they talked for 30 minutes before the first match started.

Click images for desktop size: "The Mighty Thor" by Jack Kirby The ROH match that blew me away was The American Wolves vs The Young Bucks.
it was great. In its best moments it was as exhilarating as Chan Cheh Venoms movie with bodies flying through the air at breathtaking speed and landing and launching from impossible angles. It wasn't the sophomoric soap opera slowed down treacle sports entertainment, it was four guys pretending to beat each other up really really well. It was sweat infused art.

Some where around here I got married. It was actually March 17. The date had no significance to me before. All I did was agree to it.
There was no big decision for me. The only thoughtful part was being certain I wasn't marrying to have someone put roses on my grave.
The ceremony was okay. There were good dogs in attendance. My wife got all the dogs sparkly green bow ties. All the dogs kept them on, even my puppy. Gentle Dog started to lead a cheer during the vows and my puppy who was circling the altar had to go tell him to shut up until it was time and then we all had to whistle and stomp our feet. I liked their participation plenty.
The food was good if a bit too vegetarian for my puppy and me. But it was good. Good music. Good friends etc.
My new "mother-in-law" said something that made me bristle. She's always been obnoxious and rude to me. I don't care much about that. I tend to just ignore her, but she said one of the nastiest things I've ever heard at a wedding to my wife. I still feel like snarling every time I think of it. Her attitude explains a lot.
We got lost returning from the wedding. It bodes well that we got out of it with no big hassle and that dogs kept sleeping quiet in the back.
We did a second wedding the next day. It was out in the woods by a rushing stream. The first "legal: wedding was done by an okay Methodist minister who kept to his own wedding agenda. In this one we got to spout off a lot more. My wife said a lot of pretty words. I kept watching Giant Dog start to amble down the stream. When it was my turn I said my words from memory until Giant Dog got himself into trouble, so then had to stop everything and resuce him until he decided that was good fun and proceeded on a faster clip to get himself into trouble again . . .
I still liked the second wedding better.
It was sad when they left. Even my puppy was sad.

Posted by David at 3:24 PM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Haiku On Hanami" by April Joy E Jasmin My mother used to be terrified that she, being only fifteen years older than me and divorced, was going to deprive me and traumatize me. The only book, the only resource for new mothers then was Doctor Spock. She couldn't go to her mother for advice. My grandmother hadn't talked to her since my mother's divorce. So my mother fumbled around and did the best she could figure out.
Sometimes this entailed taking me to work with her. When she was working at the concession counter at the drive-in movie theater going with her was very cool. I would sit at a picnic table on a concrete slab by the projection booth, right next to a blaring metal loud speaker and float into the movies while my mom's teen co-workers inundated me with sugar-y soda, popcorn and ice cream.
It was in that state that I first saw "Godzilla". A warm California night, the sea breeze and eucalyptus scenting the air and sixty feet of city munching reptile destroying everything adults hold dear. Perhaps my still holding love affair with Japanese jidai-geki movies has more to do with remembering a mother's love than it does my fondness for giant lizards and men in rubber suits. I wouldn't know. I'm more Adlerian than Freudian.
I liked monster movies. So did my mother but she worried so her next big plan to keep me from being deprived was a subscription to The Children's Book Club.
This was some weird thing, probably from an ad in "Teen Mom's Weekly". For fifty nine cents a copy your child, meaning me, got a hard cover classic of children's literature.
They were cheaply printed things. Thing I remember most were the super ragged edges of the pages. But I liked the books. I liked the stories in them. Classics is a pretty broad term. There were Hardy Boys stories, strange science fiction and "Alice's Adventures In Wonderland". I really liked that book at age 7. I liked the pictures and I liked the horrible things that happened to the little girl.

Click images for desktop size: "Purple Vectors" by Unknown At that stage of my life torturing little girls was a major part of my entertainment. Not real torture but stuff like dropping snails down their backs, stealing the heads from their dolls. Typical stuff. The one girl who thought it was cool and fought back instead of shrieking and threatening to tell on me became a life long friend.
So I liked that all the animals yelled at Alice, picked on her and tormented her. It kept my interest up.
I read that book and re-read it then got on with surfing, torturing little girls etc. In high school someone gave me a copy of Martin Gardener's "The Annotated Alice". I don't remember who. It took me a long time before I started reading it. When I did start to get into it I was enthralled. It started my trek into Lewis Carroll fandom.
I recently got a copy of Jenny Woolf's new book, "The Mystery of Lewis Carroll". It's a bit dry but it attempts to debunk some of the more bizarre suppositions about Charles Dodgson like that he was actually Jack the Ripper. It also attempts to tackle the issue of his being a pedophile. That has always driven me crazy. I've read some persuasive arguments for it being so and I've tried to accept that he was a pedophile who never actually improperly touched or harmed a child.
That goes against my knowledge of pedophiles. When I took my training to help abused kids part of it was attending group therapy sessions and listening to child abusers. I think the plan was to get us trainees to have some compassion and empathy for the offensive
Click images for desktop size: "Audrey Hepburn" offenders.
It didn't have any such effect. I have been alone with thrill killers, reputed Mafia hitmen, drug addicts, prostitutes and movie stars. At some level I've always felt a bond of humanity. Sometimes it was tenuous and difficult but it was always still there.
Prior to my meeting the child abusers the group I felt most distant from were the hard core crack addicts. They were so lizard brained that any cloudy memory they had of being human was only called on to try and manipulate.
Child abusers, the ultimate victimizers, didn't have even that. To me they were an alien insect race that would be best served with a claw hammer and a room draped in plastic.
They have no control over their actions. They must abuse. So sordid and ingrained is their delusion that they speak often and in agreement that children are sexual seducers who lure them into the abusers horrific attacks and fantasies.
The thing is that they were all like this, all out of control. Even chemical and physical castration has not deterred child molesters from attacking children.
No matter how convincing the arguments it was hard, nearly impossible for me to put Dodgson in
Click images for desktop size: "Rise on an Angel" by Titusboy this category, this misshapen lump. I could not even accept that he was a pedophile who had somehow managed to NOT harm children.
Ms Woolf's book tries to address this issue while presenting an image of Carroll full and deep. She uses a few newly discovered letters, gets some interesting interpretations of available data from MD's and such and uses a unique and solid bit of hard evidence.
She uses forensic accounting. Recently discovered are the complete bank records for Dodgson. From the first penny he spent till the decimation of his estate at his death. Financial records.
It seems odd. But so did bringing down Al Capone's empire based on his financial records. It paints a picture of Carroll and Dodgson that I am much more in agreement with that any other previous. Meaning it jibes most closely to my own perceptions of a major part of my pantheontology.
Woolf's writing style is a bit dry and prosaic but her observations are keen, her conclusions are only pedantic when strongly supported by evidence. It makes a good read and provides at least for the fans, which I am, a nice amount of dream time considering Dodgson/Carroll. My only complaint is that a bit too many words are spent rejecting some of the more inane conclusions about Dodgson.

I went for my stress tests on Wednesday. Interesting stuff. They made the mistake of leaving me alone in a room too long. I found a remarkable plastic model of a heart. It was dumped behind some boxes in a cupboard. I coveted it and considered stealing it. I didn't. Not because of any high handed moral arguments or out of fear but because it occurred to me that it might only appear to be discarded and might be of service to some other poor slob stuck in my kind of hell.
The stress tests themselves were not all that difficult. The first one was on a treadmill. I was out fitted with all the ekg terminals and an x-ray machine was pointed at my chest.

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Wally Wood It was hard getting my pulse over 100. Not that I'm that fit but because the treadmill didn't offer up enough resistance and I was ordered to not bend over too much to accelerate so that the x-rays would hit the right spot.
After that we went to the stair masters. Due to my chemotherapy history they eschewed x-rays. Didn't want to blast me with too much radiation in case I turned into a super hero I bet. So this time I climbed the unending staircase and was monitored by electrodes and sound waves. I could see the sonogram as I worked out. It was so incredibly cool looking at my heart beat. In motion I was trying to control it and make it do interesting things. That got me yelled at.
Don't have all the results yet but what there is is good. My heart has healed. There are abnormalities but they have to be looked for rather than appearing as distorted lines and squibbles.
My vitals are all good. they doubled my blood pressure meds. Rah. My BP was 120 over 60, but they decided they want it even lower! Part of this is due to the congestive heart failure I had with the Lyrica. Then my BP was hovering around 190 over 80 due to all the fluid in my chest compressing everything. Getting my standard BP even lower will enable me to endure a real congestive heart attack (that's what killed my grandmother when she was 98 . . .) They said I was on an extremely minmal dosage anyway and this would still have me below average.
Now I just wait for the rest of the results and the fitness and fury.
Just wanted to mention my puppy. She's continued to be wonderful. She's crazy and calm by turns. When I'm feeling more under the weather than usual she's protective. When I'm feeling better she's bossy and obnoxious, demanding her way. She's my friend.
She's been on a diet. She hates it. But we went to the pet store yesterday and she has lost nearly TWO POUNDS! Bringing her weight down to 71! Only six more pounds to go till she is her ideal weight!
She could care less about ideal weight. She'd rather have ice cream at all of her meals.

Posted by David at 5:31 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by 7th Vision Tuesday
Another day at work. Spent my waking time arranging my transportation for physical therapy, optician and neurology appointments. It seemed a dreary and depressing chore.  
Took my puppy for her walk and, as usual, marveled at how much she enjoys just being with me; how keen she is for adventure. We saw a rabbit. It was disappointing that the bunny wouldn't sit still to be smelled.
We met a new dog in the neighborhood . A boy.
It made for a good morning.
I fell asleep at the computer reading emails, went to bed at 11 AM. Begrudgingly my puppy agreed to share our single bed. Slept fitfully until my phone rang; robot calls, two in a row, confirming the physical therapy and the neurology appointments.

Wednesday
Pouring rain; makes me feel even sicker.
Went to Physical therapy. It was good. He explained to me why drops in barometric pressure cause my shoulder to hurt and why the corresponding effect is a two inch loss of mobility.
The explanation was filled with tech terms and medical jargon. The ones I got were the easy ones like orbital and viscous fluid. Even when I didn't understand it all it gave me comfort to have it explained out loud.
Stretched out the three ligaments in the shoulder. Hurt but felt I was getting some good out of it. Then worked on the shoulder with some machines and tools. I made a special effort to remember the names of the tools. Can't recall any of them. Don't know if that's due to the fever or lack of sleep.
Next time I'll write it all down. Taking notes on my life.

Thursday
The war with Canada escalates. I received a two page letter from them. It makes no sense. It
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by 3D clearly was rushed and not even proofread.It is so insane and bewildering that I wish I had a good attorney I could afford to interpret it. It is as full of lies as a government letter normally is but ends with a whack phrase "I find you not to be inadmissible so I refuse you entry to Canada . . . "
To which I can only say, "Huh?"
Its what I expected but I expected a little more care to be taken and for their to be some precision and not so filled with wild conclusions and down right lies, demonstrably false lies to boot.

Friday
After a painful day at work I fell asleep in front of the computer but woke up in time for Physical Therapy and to go the neurologist.
I had to sit for over an hour in the waiting room. It was the kind of waiting room I've come to hate; large and over bearing with noise, not helped much by the two flat screen TV's blaring different commercials for medical services from opposing corners.
Met the Doctor. He was in his late 20's. Seemed like he was sort of brilliant. As we talked I found out he was one of the lead's on the NFL concussion and neurological research team.
Watching him rip through the medical database (which is still a thing of beauty) was cool. An impressive feat was that he'd gone and dug up data that wasn't in the database. Early medical treatments from before the database existed and before I lived here. A lot of research for a new patient. I started to think about how much the wunderkind
Click images for desktop size: "Josef Stalin" must charge.
One unsettling fact was that one of the first chemo's I had, a pretty nasty one - the constant sickness and hair falling out in clumps that makes good dramatic movie fodder but is still no fun to live through, it started with a Vin or some such, well this Vin chemo contained a neurotoxin as one of its ingredients . . . it would sort of be impossible for me not to have some nerve damage. This was also the chemo that gave me diabetes. Nasty stuff. It didn't work either.
He explained that diabetes also caused a certain amount of inevitable nerve damage. Then he said the only cringe inducing thing of the day, "you know you're a pretty fascinating guy. When I was doing your medical history I was expecting someone well, no one like you. You don't even look your age let alone like someone who's been through all this," as he waved his hand at the computer screen and its load of open documents.
I replied with something weak like, "A guy is always more than just a bunch of words and pictures," with a shrug. He started to say something back and ended with, "Well, I should get on with the examination."
And that's what we did.
I have definite damage in the ulnar nerve. This was possibly caused by the cop twisting my arm.
Click images for desktop size: "Shaped" by 3D Also my left foot surprisingly has some dead spots. I can feel a jab but I can't feel the buzz of a tuning fork.
Oddest was that I have mag something or other in my left eye. When I look to the left my left eye bounces around independently and crazily. I was totally unaware of this. The wunderkind was annoyed that the opthamologist hadn't noticed this. I didn't think much of the opthamologist so I wan't surprised by him missing it but I still have no idea what it means, other than another series of tests EMG's on December 4th.
I received an odd phone call. I'm being recruited to coach a semi-pro team. A couple of my former players are pushing hard for it.
I don't see much value to semi-pro football; at least not the values that I think I can teach. These are men and I still think I can teach young men and women best. I'll listen but I remain skeptical.

Saturday
For Thanksgiving I gave myself a present. I took my puppy to see Santa Claus. I laughed a lot.
' We saw a lot of great dogs and ran into two of the people who were in our first therapy dog class. The dogs and the people who fed them remembered my puppy and me. I didn't remember the people but I remembered the dogs. Maybe it was the other way around for my puppy.
Their male dog just finished two years of being cancer free after being operated for melanoma. He worked as a therapy dog at the VA hospital even through his chemo. He demanded that I pet him and was begging for a cookie. My puppy let him have my attention, which is not common with her.

Which means that I'm looking forward to this week of football. A chance to get lost in the reality and beauty of a game that reflects and magnifies life.
In the contest my friend leads with a 97-94, but as you can see justice is beginning to prevail and I am inching closer to total victory!!
Last week I was a magnificent 10 of 15 while my friend was a laughable 9 of 15. A lesser man would gloat and laugh at her ineptitude. A slightly better man would feel sorry for someone so clearly out of her depth but me, well, I stick to downright mean gloating.

My picks are in bold.

Miami at Carolina - I picked the Dolphins. I think their record is poor but they've been playing better football. They were hard hit when Chad Pennington went down but have adapted well. Carolina is a great inconsistent mess of a team, talented but unreliable.

Indianapolis at Baltimore - Manning pulled off another miracle to remain undefeated. The Ravens
Click images for desktop size: "Winter's Hunt" by Unknown won't be impressed. Their season is on the line. Oddly the defense has been incredibly inconsistent. They miss Rex Ryan as DC more than they thought. But their offense has been strong. The Colts freakish win over the Patriots is the sort that can give a team swagger through the rest of the season but it can also cause the wrong people to relax and just count on the miracle. With a new HC I'm figuring that will be the result and the hungrier, desperate Ravens pull one out at home. This is my Game of the Week but only because the schedule is pretty rotten.

Washington at Dallas - There's no heat for this game. The lack of heat actually favors the Redskins. The Cowboys record is adequate but loaded with wins against doormat teams. The Redskins are a doormat this season. This is a magnificent example of who cares.

Cleveland at Detroit - Cruddy Game of the Week. My Survivor Game. There are 839 "Survivors" left in the pool. Since you can only pick a team one time during the season you end up with a pretty decrepit looking selection of teams at this stage. I'm picking the lions because I don't think they have a chance to win any more games this season. The Browns truly stink. Brady Quinn as starting QB is a joke. The Browns D is off looking for condo's in Florida. Matt Stafford gives the lions O some life. If I can get past this week I actually have a chance at winning the Survivor game.

San Francisco at Green Bay - The 49er's are a team playing better ball then their record shows. The Packers have been incredibly inconsistent but their 5-4 record is better than they are. If Singletary can keep his team together and away from being discouraged they should smash the Packers.

Buffalo at Jacksonville - The Bills make me nervous here, not that they are any good but they're the first team this season to fire its head coach. Historically cruddy teams have won like 70% of their first games after the HC has been dumped. Otherwise Jacksonville and fiery Jack Del Rio should take it to them in a rout.

Pittsburgh at Kansas City - This is going to be an ugly game. And pretty uninteresting too.

Click images for desktop size: "Ten: My Target" by TCYC
Seattle at Minnesota - Adrien Petersen, Brett Favre.

Atlanta at New York Giants - The Giants are favored in this one? Old prejudices die hard. Matt Ryan is flying high. The Falcon ground game is potent while the Giants have been bumbling. Steve Smith is looking great as a possession receiver but they mix Plaxico Burress more than they want to admit.

New Orleans at Tampa Bay - The Saints are without Reggie Bush and Sedrick Ellis. That hurts. Dru Brees' mother committed suicide. The Saints might be ready to fall. The Buccaneers have been looking eerily potent. This game is their SuperBowl. I'm sticking with the Saints out of faith.

Arizona at St Louis - This should be a rout. If it isn't there should be an investigation.

San Diego at Denver - The Chargers are starting to peak, too early for the playoffs of course, while the Broncos are falling hard back to earth. They remind me of an old Chicago team (Remember Bobby Douglas - for your sake I hope not) that started the season 7-0 and finished 7-7 . . .

New York Jets at New England - This would not be the week I'd want to play the Patriots. Angry after the last second loss to the Colts (And I think Billichik's decision to got for it on 4th down was right. Even a great punt would not have changed the out come. The only question I have is not putting the ball in the hands of Randy Moss or Wes Welker). Tom Brady is going to turn buzz saw and looking to put his foot on someones neck. The shambolic Jets defense are going to be the poor guys out there.

Cincinnati at Oakland - The brilliant play of Carson Palmer and Chad Ochocinco on offense and Keith Rivers and Rey Maluga on D will keep this one entertaining. A new QB for the Raiders isn't going to be anywhere near enough.

Tennessee at Houston - I wouldn't have thought it possible but Vince Young is pulling the Titans together. The Texans are trying and get Steve Slaton back this weekend. This one has the potential to be entertaining especially watching Brian Cushing chase Vince Young down.

Philadelphia 34 at Chicago 35 - The Eagles shouldn't miss Brian Westbrook much, they've got plenty of weapons. I'm picking the Bears at home because Jay Cutler seems to follow up horrific performances (5 picks last week) with stellar jobs on his next outing.

Posted by David at 12:39 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Orangeness" by LawnElf Its been another exhausting week. Being sleepy is my natural state.
I work and go to physical therapy. That's about it. All I can handle. Oh, and fight with the Canadian government.
Physical therapy has entered that stage of really doing me some good, but that means a whole lot of pain.
I do get excited about the improvements. Its hard to tell anyone about it because they're so small but important. I can reach in my front pocket without squealing. I can put my wallet in my back pocket and not have to do a 5 minute twirling dance to get it out. I can brush my hair with my right hand.
My shoulder blade has finally separated from the rib cage. That was hard. Now there's a dull burning pain surrounding my shoulder blade that intensifies when I do the 3 exercises to keep lifting it back to normal.
For the rotation which was the most damaged because of what the cops did to me, I have to stand with my hand braced waist high on a door jamb. Then I simply turn. I hurt myself pretty badly doing this.
I like my physical therapist, we talk about martial arts films and various techniques for strengthening thigh muscles in kids. He takes me seriously and often starts our visits by telling me the results of his research into one of my more difficult observatory drills. But he doesn't remember what kind of maniac I am. Like most of us when we like someone we assume they're sane and more like ourselves than anyone could actually be.
Assuming I'm sane is risky and foolish.
When I was doing the rotation drills I'd put all my weight into it. More strength means faster recovery, right? I did them until the pain was nearly causing me to black out, pushed right through all the pain and when the soreness didn't leave I continued with the next set on schedule and just
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by C Coles Phillips kept pushing through the soreness and pain.
Turns out that's pretty stupid.
I'm supposed to do the twists with light pressure and only to the point of where the pain starts. The pain is supposed to stop as soon as I release the pressure. He was incredulous that I was doing them my way. I was incredulous that he didn't tell me not to hurt myself . . .
The soreness went away pretty quickly doing them his way but i don't think I'm seeing as rapid a result as I was with my methods.
Today I raked up the leaves in the yard and now my shoulder feels only tired without a trace of soreness. Two months ago it would have been an impossible chore.
One bright spot of the week was that the Apple Store exchanged my retro keyboard for a brand new one with no hassle or skullduggery. As distasteful as I find a lot of Apple's new business techniques and their shoddier manufacturing they keep winning me back with the superb customer service.
Like I still love my 2nd hand iPod Touch (what a clumsy name). I like the little casual games, I love finding wifi hotspots and checking my email anywhere. I like reading news feeds and while I'm on the bus or waiting for the transportation to pick me up from the doc's I like watching movies on it. "Riot in Cell Block 11" was totally cool. And it plays music. Its become an indispensable part of my life. I can see wanting an iPhone but not while its tied to At&T or, rumored, Verizon and their exorbitant fees and slip shod service.
The other delight is and will always be my puppy. She's dealing okay with the rescue dog. He's too aggressive with her and resists learning
Click images for desktop size: "Brigette Bardot" how to play "properly".
One of the neighbors commented that my puppy was the most elegant lady like dogs she'd ever seen. She said my puppy always acted with grace . . . which I sort of doubt but I don't mind that being the public perception of her.
One of the traits of her breed is their sensitivity and their memory. I've never struck, swatted, kicked or struck her. It sickens me and enrages me when I see someone strike a dog, almost as much as it does if it were a child. But my puppy reacts to harsh words like they were knives cutting her flesh.
I fell asleep and forgot where this was supposed to be heading . . .
Anyway, while we were out for our walk today we stopped into a drugstore. I lashed my puppy to a garbage can so I could see her through the door and make sure no one messed with her. While I walked past the counter a dark voice barked at me, "COACH!"
It was one of the kids I coached when he was in high school. As I think he was voted the student most likely to get 10 to 20 years I was pleased to see that he was working. At first I thought it was a cruddy job he had but then decided it was at least a better job than the one I had . . .

Click images for desktop size: "Indian Camp" by Charles Russell He came form behind the counter and asked me, not how I was doing or some such but, "Hey, where's Coach Puppy?"
I told him that she was outside. He said, "Yeah, I wouldn't mind but the manager probably get upset if she came inside, but heck, she's the Coach!"
We went out together and bought her inside. She seemed to remember the kid and probably asked if he'd been scoring any TD's. He scratched her butt which pleased her. They talked while I got the few things I went in there for.
While we walked he told me how he still lived with his grand mother. He also told me something I didn't know. His grand mother had been in the hospital with a heart attack. She'd been one of my puppy's patients. He said she still tells people about the black dog who'd come and peek around her door to see if she needed any doctoring.
He said that he can always make her laugh by telling her some of the stories about the doctor dog being his football coach.
I'm always proud of my prim little puppy but sometimes it is nice to be reminded of why.

Last week I was a stunning 8-5 in my NFL picks . . . my friend was a mediocre 9-4. I think she has hacked the server and manages to change her picks, not enough to attract any attention from the guys running the game, just enough to beat me!
Despite her ability to cheat I still feel confident that this week I will over take her and prove my innate superiority in all things football!

My picks are in bold.

Washington at Atlanta - This is my Survivor pick this week. There are only 14,000 still left in this contest! The Redskins are a manic depressive mess. The Falcons are facing being eliminated from the play offs if they don't win. Easy choice.

Arizona at Chicago - The Cardinals are schizo's. Their stunning win over the Giants was a fluke or a
Click images for desktop size: "Orion Nebula" by NASA pure revenge game. They're bewildering. The Bears are a good enough football team that are still working out how to play together, the defense without super stud Urlacher has joined up to play fierce football while the offense still has not adapted to its new super stud diabetic Jay Cutler. They seem to take a step forward then get flustered. They'll need a complete game to handle the Cardinals. There's no reason to think they won't pull it together.

Baltimore at Cincinnati - Game of the Week. And it should be a burner. The Ravens brutally exposed the Denver Broncos last week while the Bengals have discovered defense and inspired play from Carson Palmer. While Chad Ochocinco has been spending the week bragging on what he plans to do to the vaunted Raven's D while NOT giving them any bulletin board material! This is pretty much a must win for both teams and both teams are capable of mashing the other. That certainly excites me! I'm picking the Bengals for no real good reason. I just love the way Palmer and Ochocinco play.

Houston at Indianapolis - The Colts' defense is an injured shambles and as much as I dislike the Texans and their football I can't ignore they've been throwing up a lot of points lately. The Colts have Manning and there's nothing in the Texan scheme that makes me think they can stop him. This is a game of the week contender, a contender because I don't much care for games that are evened out due to injury.

Kansas City at Jacksonville - Cruddy Game of the week contender. No Larry Johnson, who I met as a high school footballer and thought the world of, for the Chiefs so an underpowered O gets weaker. Their D is incapable of getting any worse. The Jaguars are under achieving and totally exposed. Jack Del Rio won't let them lose to a vastly inferior opponent.

Miami at New England - I think the Dolphins' running game will gouge the Patriots D for plenty. Ted Ginn has finally shown he has some talent but I can't see him getting any TD's against the Pat's special teams. The Dolphins can hang with the Patriots now but they don't have much to answer Brady, Welker and Moss.

Green Bay at Tampa Bay - This is one of those boring games that is killing the NFL. The Packers are a team and the Buccaneers are a discombobulation wearing jerseys. If the Buc's do win I'd demand a congressional investigation. Too many of those guys seem to think sports are more important than things like health care anyway.

Carolina at New Orleans - The Saints are undefeated! The Saints. The Panthers are playing far
Click images for desktop size: "Dracula's Daughter" by Universal below their talent. They'll step up their game against the Saints but I hope it's not enough.

Detroit at Seattle - Cruddy Game of the Week. The Lions haven't won a road game since the Great Depression. They don't deserve it but the Seahawks should win this one, probably on a last second field goal.

San Diego at New York Giants - Two of the seasons great under achievers. I wouldn't be surprised to see the two teams trying to lose this one. Might be entertaining.

Tennessee at San Francisco - the 49er's will make the Titans rethink starting Vince Young. Mike Singletary has them playing inspired football far above the talent level to that point where the high level IS the talent level. I wouldn't be surprised to see Kerry Collins reappear.

Pittsburgh at Denver - One of those solid games that used to make up the bigger part of the NFL schedule. The Steelers' strength on offense is pretty well nullified by the Bronco D, but the Bronco's O will be negative oxygen reserve against the Steelers' D. It should get pretty smash mouth and close. I have to trust Rothliesberger in the close ones. This one and Dallas and Green Bay are the only away teams I picked this week!

Dallas 22 at Philadelphia 21 - The Eagles Dismantling the Giants last week doesn't make any where near as strong an impression as them getting manhandled by the Raiders. Dallas is a mediocre football team that was designed to beat the Eagles. I'm willing to let that play out.

Posted by David at 4:45 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Happy Halloween" by Julia Nikolaeva I'm not feeling too great. Mostly in my head and heart. My body feels mostly like it always does.
It was a pretty good day. Got things done that pleased me. But then the letter A stopped working on my keyboard and that started the slide.
I couldn't avert the slide, even when I discovered the keyboard is still under warranty. Now I just have to get it there to exchange it. Another task. Just means that's the keyboard wasn't the root of the issue, just the last straw sort of thing.
My job is pretty horrible. The hours make it worse. Not only am I always exhausted but I deal with the degenerate gambler types. They're not very nice or polite. After the first week they're not interesting. Their differences are all overwhelmed by their identical compulsion. This is pretty low rent legal gambling so I guess I shouldn't have been distressed to discover the compulsion is something for nothing. Most of my "customers" don't have jobs. They describe sitting in a chair and clicking a mouse to make the electronic slot wheels to spin as hard work. Maybe it is. I tried it and found it boring.
There's not even a rush. For this to be legal, and right now it is legal, this is a sweepstakes. The winnings are determined as soon as you sit down and log in. The slot machine aspect is simply a reader to hook you in. What they spend hours doing could be accomplished in about 10 seconds. But then they wouldn't keep spending money.
People do win, the biggest winner was $9,000. It doesn't really matter to me. These people don't tip. They run me ragged but it never dawns on them to tip. Their attitude is that it's my job and they feel no need to show gratitude or pay a gratuity. So I clean up their messes, protect them from the predators because it's my job and I'm paid plenty . . . I've heard them say often, "Don't pick up the garbage. It's his job, let him do it."
The women are almost all enormously fat. They don't want to sit on the toilet seat so they crouch
Click images for desktop size: "Death" by Unknown sort of over it but they are so big they mainly urinate all over the floor and then complain about how the bathroom stinks. I clean it up.
I bought three bags of Halloween candy. I figured it was too much for any trick or treaters. We got one here. So I was giving it away to some of the people. It made me feel human. One person said thanks. Mainly they wanted to exchange it for something better. Most came up and demanded their free candy. Nearly all complained about the selection . . .
It wears you down. When they lose they get nasty. And I'm the only one around who they're pretty sure won't slug or shoot them for being nasty.
And I need a job. I make enough to be broke. I'm still far enough down the poverty scale to still be eligible for food stamps and free medical. Without a job I'd be even more lost.
Then there's my continuing war with governments. I wonder why I suddenly became so important that they need to fight so viciously. There's nothing bureaucratic or professional about it. Its just cruelty. Ridiculously I understand it. People want me to fight. I want to fight for justice, just like in the comic books but I am so weary.
I miss my things. I never thought that I'd be one of those people that's defined by his possessions. I like my music. I like being able to watch football. I like my clothes. Maybe the broken keyboard reminded me that the only thing I have left is this computer. It keeps my music. It stores my movies. I watch them here now. It's not satisfying. Its hard to get lost in a story on a computer screen. At least it is for me. I keep checking emails.

Click images for desktop size: "Betty Hutton" I just feel beaten up. It will pass. Depression doesn't scare me. I'm not suicidal really. Never have been. But sometimes I get in these moods. Fortunately I have a good dog who loves me nearly as much as she loves her Kong, her ice cream, her treats, her food . . . I'm sure I'm in there somewhere.
The first time my puppy and I met she bit me! After being separated by the heart attack episode she snapped at me. We have that kind of relationship. She knows I'm depressed so she acts the clown. That's hard for her. She's a pretty beautiful dignified thing most of the time.
I can't be depressed too long. If a cure consists of more than a kiss and scratching her butt or chasing her for the Kong she gets confused. She needs to know that what she does works. She needs to know that I am okay. Its those traits in her that make her a great therapy dog and why the children love her.
Right now I smile because I think of how incredibly tickled she gets when she makes me chase her for the Kong. She is so overjoyed she looks like she could explode with joyousness. If she were human she'd have to sit down and laugh for 10 minutes while wiping away tears. Right now she's awakened and looks at me just long enough to make sure I'm okay. If I weren't she'd come over and doctor me, whether I wanted doctoring or not.

Click images for desktop size: "Dracula's Daughter" by Universal Pictures When I'm not here she spends most of her time waiting for me. That saddens me.
Halloween was fine. My favorite pet store is going out of business. I went to their last day sale and got some good bargains.
The crazy people on the corner, the ones who over decorate their house. (Spiders crawling up the wall, a graveyard with animated figures, giant cats and purple spiders, billowing smoke , music and sound effects - it almost sounds slick. It isn't. Its WalMart cheesiness run rampant) The husband dressed up as Leatherface and was chasing the trick or treaters with a toy chainsaw. It was enough of a show that the street was blocked with parked cars and kids waiting their turn to ask for candy and get chased.
They did this for themselves, not for charity or for profit but for the fun. Somethings are nice in small towns.
I went to the Chinese restaurant and spent my last 6 bucks on some Mu Shu chicken. When ever I get mu shu I always wonder why those pancakes are so valuable, I mean they give you a pint of mu shu and four pancakes!
I watched the USC-Oregon game on-line. It was pathetic but I'm still a Trojan. Always will be. It's okay to gloat over our worse loss in 8 years, cause its been 8 years and seven consecutive championships. We'll probably still go to a bowl game. It was a bad loss but that's all it was.

I don't feel much like going into great detail on my NFL picks this week. But so many people like to ridicule me over them it feels like it would be selfish to not make them public.
Last week I was 8-6. As usual I was pretty happy about losing half the games and flummoxed by the other 3. My friend somehow stumbled to identical record. Her cheating ways have stopped paying off! She remains five points ahead for the season. But you can sense that I'm about to make my move!

As always my picks are in bold.

Denver at Baltimore - Denver is not as good as their 6-0 record . . . which is probably one of the
Click images for desktop size: "Fashion Plate" by NFL Films ridiculous things my friends like to hear me say. The thing is that the Broncos think they are a perfect tam and that kind of belief very often works. The Ravens are a lot better than 3-3 and they know it. Attitude and home-field advantage make me pick the Ravens.

Cleveland at Chicago - I'm sleeping through this one, if the Bears can stay awake they should throttle the dispirited Browns.

Seattle at Dallas - The Cowboys win last week was one of the games that bugged me. I don't like this team much at all. The SeaHawks are the new trademark of the NFL completely erratic.

St Louis at Detroit - Cruddy game of the year, perhaps the decade! I have no memory of what prompted me to pick the Lions. Who cares who wins. Maybe they can figure out how to tie.

Houston at Buffalo - The Texans have become the flavor of the month recently. They won two games they had no business winning and did it convincingly, I still think they stink. Their wins ar e more a product of the diluted NFL product than talent or skill. The Bills have looked surprisingly better, like they whipped the schoolyard bully and are now going after all comers. It should be interesting.

San Francisco at Indianapolis - I really like the 49ers and where they're going. They're playing good football and have a definite future except they lack a lot of talent. The Colts don't lack much of anything.

Miami at the New York Jets - The Dolphins played the game of their lives and instead of a win they ran into the Dru Brees, Reggie Bush thrasher. Incredible game, good enough to keep faith in the NFL. Can the JEts stop Ricky Williams? Probably not but I don't think the Dolphins can stop Mark Sanchez and the hot dog!!

Oakland at San Diego - My Survivor Pick of the week. Not chosen cause the Chargers are so good but because the Raiders are so bad.

Jacksonville at Tennessee - The Jaguars are starting to play good football while the Titans are 0-6 and bringing head case and USC destroyer Vince Young back as starting QB. So I'm picking the team in disarray because it just feels like them winning would be the better story.

Carolina at Arizona - After their great win at New York last week it's a sure bet they won't be ready
Click images for desktop size: "Face" by MK20 to lie down against the enigma team that is the Carolina Panthers.

Minnesota at Green Bay - For some reason the big story if Brett Favre returning to Green Bay and Lambeau Field. I think the big story is that they're coming off a loss and Adrian Petersen ain't happy.

Atlanta at New Orleans - Game of the Week. The Saints are undefeated . . . The Falcons are rising rapidly but the Saints are undefeated . . . A good one on Monday Night!

New York Giants 30 at Philadelphia 28 - Now we no longer have to hear about how the NFC East is the best division in football. They stink like the rest of them.

Posted by David at 5:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Bleed" by Janet Angus Once again my week has consisted primarily of recovering from work and falling asleep in the wrong places.
My job gets no better. At least it is a job. I work Midnight till 8 AM and I get at least 5 people a night wanting job apps. Since two thirds of those are gamblers I do wonder what money they are using to play with, but thats a different point.
The big point is at least it's a job. I get paid. I dislike it with an edged bitterness which I start each shift willing myself to forget. Gamblers appear to be rude, obnoxious schemers. I extend myself to be courteous to the point of unctuousness. About 1 in 20 respond with even a curt acknowledgment. When I pay them their winnings I get perhaps one thank you in 50.
The same way I'm often pleased that I don't drink or get high I'm pleased that I don't have any impulses that demand I gamble. Just lucky I guess.
I realized this week that I had some long stretches where my shoulder did not hurt! I'd get the stabs if I used to much or twisted it around behind me but just sitting or walking I had no pain. It was a unique experience. I also noted I have much more use of the arm, I'd guess and my physical therapist agrees, that I have about 60% use of my right arm!
I was feeling so good I made the mistake of telling my physical therapist about it. I forgot an absence of pain is merely an excuse for him to hurt me even more. I've gotten4 more exercises to do each day. They're simple enough and hurt like hell but getting my arm back is so worth it.
The orthopedist came into my Friday session and checked me out. I have a knot in my trapezius about the size of a baseball. When I'm lying down it hurts like a son of a gun when I move my head. The doc just pointed out that its one of the worst of the "defensive" damages I've done to myself trying to cope with the pain of my shoulder. The main focus in my physical therapy now is trying to
Click images for desktop size: "Candles" by Unknown loosen up the shoulder tendons so I can get full mobility back one day, bringing the atrophied muscles back and eliminating the damage done by the cop torture and my trying to cope with the agony of the shoulder for 8 months.
The general feeling from the two doc's and the physical therapist that another 6 months of me trying to survive (like the Canadian doc insisted I do) would have resulted in the loss of the arm. I still have to see a neurologist to assess how much damage I've done to my ulnar nerve. They thinks its possible if not probable that I've damaged it in more than one place. A third of my right hand is still numb. I've gotten used to that.
The other big event was getting my monthly supply of drugs. A pain. There's one that isn't covered under any of the plans I'm on. Means I have to buy it from the drugstore at full price. Careful shopping has me getting it at $32 for a month's supply. It's not covered because it's a medicine for heart attack victims that is pretty well restricted to leukemia victims. This confuses me. It feels like I'm being penalized for being too sick or something. It becomes a niggling complaint when two of the drugs I seriously need to survive, Plavix for my heart and Lantus for the diabetes (a 24 hour insulin) might become unavailable. The program that got these for me has run out of funding. I might be stuck.
I have about 3 weeks of Plavix left and about 3 months of inulin in hand.
I got to speak to a curt nurse who is in charge of the program. She wasn't too helpful other than they were trying. I'll have to shop around. I know they're expensive. This month the drugs cost me $180 which is a lot but still a great deal. I can almost afford it.
While I was picking up my drugs you can't help but notice that the economy (unemployment and low wages) combined with inept health care has packed out the clinic I depend on for survival. As in it normally takes me about 10 minutes to go in, pay for and pick up my drugs. This Friday it took over two hours. Of course I fell asleep and missed them calling me by about 3 minutes. I got aggro and pushed to the head of a line and got it sorted right away. The workers all thought it was funny I had
Click image for desktop size: "Blackfeet Burning Crow Bufallo Range" by Charles Marion fallen asleep because I'd been standing.
My housemate took his new dog into the vet. He went to see my puppy's Dr K, which I felt was fairly cool. The new guy checked out fine. Dr K tried to talk my housemate into taking him to an obedience class. Don't think it took.
The new guy checked out fine except he had whip worm which is fairly contagious. I took my puppy's stool sample to this vet's office up by my work. I'd never take her there except in a psycho type emergency but to look at feces under a microscope I think they're fine.
They told me that she didn't have worms. I was glad for that. When I got home I was petting her head. She had this lump on her head I had been putting off to her tussling with the new guy. It wasn't a lump, it was a tick!
Since she uses Pfizer's Revolution (at about $45 a pop) she's not supposed to get ticks. I used alcohol to try and loosen it. I'm still worried that I got the entire thing out of her skull. I'm now terrified of her getting some nasty infection. For every inch of terror I have an equal amount of anger of Pfizer's product not working. Since Revolution is also supposed to prevent heart worm I'm agitated that it might have failed there too. I hate that I was duped into trusting a mega corporation, a company that blithely pollutes the water table and various other crimes against humanity. Why I would think that a company like that would do their best to protect my puppy makes me angry with myself.

Last week was a rough time in the NFL. I valiantly managed to
Click images for desktop size: "Angelia Jolie" struggle to a manly 8-6 record with my picks. My friend using arcane arts, blind luck and clearly some cheating went 11-3. I should point out 11-3 is not good enough to get a prize.
For the season she leads 63 to 58. For some reason she now thinks she can give me tips on football! She's even taken to sending me her picks so I can have a chance to change mine!
I might have to become a soccer fan . . .

As usual my picks are in bold.

Green Bay at Cleveland - The Brown's season continues to sink into the quagmire. They tried to look stout against the Bengals last week but it was still a defeat. Their season can be summed up by Brady Quinn, the former Notre Dame, has been squawking that his being benched for ineffective play will cost him millions in potential incentives . . . The Packers have not been very reliable this season but against the Browns all they really need to do is show up.

San Francisco at Houston - The Texans were surprisingly strong last week upsetting the Bengals.
Click images for desktop size: "Pin Up Art" by JW McGinnis Schaub threw 4 TD passes. I can't see him duplicating anything like that against Mike Singletary's 49ers, especially with them coming off a bye week. The idea of the 49ers being in first in the woeful West is the only thing I find interesting about this game.

San Diego at Kansas City - The Chargers looked pathetic in their must win game against Denver last week. They managed to all but eliminate themselves for the division championship. The Chiefs managed to win their first gamer of the season against the hapless Redskins which gives us the Cruddy Game of the Week. Week 6 is too early for a meaningless game in the NFL but here it is.

Minnesota at Pittsburgh - Game of the Week! Brett Favre, Adrian Petersen and a stout D have the Vikings undefeated. The Steelers can answer them on all fronts except they have nothing in the running game to compare to Petersen, who does? Troy Polamanu is back and looking full strength. The Steelers need him, without Troy I'd almost make this a lock for the Vikings. You have to figure the Vikings front four will knock Rothlisberger around some, not enough to stop him , but enough to keep it interesting, Hines Ward will destroy the Vike's secondary but Favre will return the favor. Dick LeBeau will scheme to stop Petersen but no one has yet. This has the potential to be a classic game. I can hardly wait. It feels like whoever has the ball last will win this one.

Indianapolis at St Louis - This is my must win Survivor game. A certain female football know it all isn't in the Survivor game any more . . . I'd feel sorry for the Rams. This has to be a low spot in their season, having to face an undefeated Colts squad that actually appears to be getting sharper and more confident with each week of play.

New England at Tampa Bay - If I didn't have friends in England I'd be opposed to the NFL tax deductible trip to the UK, but I'm pleased the kids get to see Tom Brady. This game is so unfair to the Bucs. The Patriots throw up 59 points. To have to face these guys at home is daunting enough but to give up even that little edge when you're a pretty inept team seems cruel.

Buffalo at Carolina - The Bills are banged up beyond belief, their stirring win over the Jets came at a high price. It could give them some sort of karmic edge, a lot of guys are going to get their chance to make an impact sort of thing . . . nah. The Panthers are healthy and should roll on this
Click images for desktop size: "Afterglow" by Maxfield Parrish one.

New York Jets at Oakland - I loved it when the pigeon decided to play special teams for the Raiders. Watching it fly downfield and keeps it lane was awesome. When the very forces of nature are with you, when the animal kingdom is rising up angry against the Eagles and Michael Vick it's a glorious thing. Sadly for the Raiders the Jets don't have that sort of nasty baggage, they just have a clear eyed rookie QB who's coming off his worst game as a pro. Sanchez needs a stellar game to keep his confidence up. The Jets defense will get a much needed boost of confidence facing a bumbling offense.

Atlanta at Dallas - This is a hard game to read. Could the Cowboys be as bad as they've looked this season? The Falcons are playing well enough to clearly expose them. The Cowboys running game will find it rough going against the Falcons front 7 which will put the game in Romo's hands. Only Falcon fans want to see that happen. Matt Ryan will continue to impress.

New Orleans at Miami - The Dolphins must be praying for a hurricane. That's the only thing they can do to slow down the Drew Brees Machine. The Saints defense matches up too well against the Dolphins O. I expect the Ricky WIlliams Wildcat will put up some points but there's no way it keeps up with the Saints' scoring.

Chicago at Cincinnati - One of the most interesting games of the week. Jay Cutler managed to lose the game to the Falcons almost single handedly. He's too good to do that two weeks in a row. The Bengals were either exposed or just had a bad day against a buzz saw in their loss to the Texans. So two talented teams with chips on their shoulders, both teams in bad need of a win to have a chance at the post season. Sounds like a game! I adore Carson Palmer and Chad Ochocinco. With Cedric Benson looking revitalized he's in a great position to make the Bears regret their less than stellar treatment of him. Revenge is a great way to win football games. This should be interesting and is only a Game of the Week contender instead of the Game of the Week because both teams are coming off of losses.

Philadelphia at Washington - What a stinker. And another game that is already close to meaningless. The most interesting thing will be seeing if a tornado hits the stadium and snatches Vick away to Oz. What a cruddy Monday night game.

Arizona 14 at New York Giants 27 - The Cardinals have yet to win on the East coast. With the Giants feeling exposed and brutal after having almost half a century hung on them by the Saints it's a bad time to be searching for an identity. Not my choice for a prime time game but its better than most of the schedule. Warner will keep it mildly interesting.

Posted by David at 7:12 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Stephen Youll Its been a long week. They all are, or at least seem to be. Lonely most of the time.A lot of things that seemed important became trivial or forgotten.
I'm just now shaking the cold. Two weeks. I felt congestion building up in my lungs. When I walked up the big hill at night it felt like pneumonia was going to win out for sure. Massive doses of Vitamin C seemed to do the trick there. I do not like the feeling of drowning on dry land.
The graveyard shift hours continue to weigh heavily on me. I remain just constantly exhausted, constantly in need of sleep. I keep dozing off like a narcoleptic. At least I don't drive. It would be scary if I did. My puppy has taken it upon herself to lead me places. She knows better than I do when I'm walking in my sleep.
My days off are spent exhausted while I try and give my body some time to heal so I can survive the coming week. Pretty creepy cycle.
Work is the same. It's a terrible job. I got another raise. That just seems odd to me. Money doesn't make me hate the job any less. Two more people have quit. Couldn't take the abuse from our customers.
I guess gamblers are abusive. It comes with being obsessed and unable to comprehend the rest of the world. I've snapped at a couple of them. They either apologize or else they get huffy and tell me how to do my job. Even old and crippled I can intimidate the latter group.
Also for reasons I can't comprehend all my fellow employees hate each other. They probably hate me too but like to talk to me and tell me how much they hate the others. Since we only see each other about 15 minutes day this just seems stupid to me and a huge waste of vehement energy. The main complaint is that the other emplyees won't do what they're told and the only reaction is nasty gossip. Stupid. See?
My physical therapist came back from his conference this week. I went in. Even though the sessions are doing me a lot of good the traveling there just wears me out even more. At this session I got two more daily exercises. I've gotten the two tendons in my shoulder loose enough to start working on the third tendon.
My shoulder blade has also gotten locked in and I have to loosen it. The new exercises are so
Click images for desktop size: "Supermom" by Unknown nothing looking but they are excruciating for me.
For the shoulder blades I have to put my hands against the wall and lock my elbows. I then have to raise my head and chest to the ceiling and then lower them while trying to raise the shoulder blades from the rib cage. When I do it right its electric. I seem to do them wrong most of the time.
The other requires a stick. I put one end in the palm of my hand and push it with the other hand as far back as I can stand, which is not very far.
My other personal high lights: I got a new pair of shoes, on sale; 90 bucks gotten for 40. I got a haircut - bad haircut. Amazon.com was for some unknown reason giving away the entire Mojo Nixon catalog! I like Mojo Nixon just enough to download his stuff for free. Further mystery: the stuff was only free in the US.
I got a couple of people asking me how I came to my conclusion of not wanting to work with the high school football team, especially since the coach said all the right things.
It might be difficult to explain even though it shines with crystal clarity in my mind. Every coach has certain things they want to do, would love to do with their teams on the field. They have a vision. In the NFL you get to draft players to fulfill that vision, you get to sign free agents to make it complete. It's the same way a conductor goes about hiring musicians for his orchestra.
In college ball the coaches and staff get to recruit players who they feel can help them realize their vision.Its only in high school football and below that the coach has little say in who is going to play for him. For me this is one of the challenges and the great beauties of
Click images for desktop size: "Mike Tyson" this level of football when seen only as a game; that the coaches have to adapt and change their philosophies and hence grow alongside their players as they envision and dream of ways to win together. It's a different relationship to the players and to the game.
I like a wide open game. Wide splits from my O-Line, a punishing FB and a zippy RB with a QB who can rifle the ball 30 yards down field on every play. Except you seldom get the players who fit the mold.
Some coaches stick to their diagram and they can teach well enough to win and every five or six years they produce a champion. But they still have to adapt if only begrudgingly.
I've had a 5'2 135 pound full back. I've had O-Lines where the heaviest player was my 180 pound tackle. I've had QB's who had no accuracy further than 20 yards down field. But we all worked together and figured out ways to win.
The Wing T formation, of which the present day Wildcat formation is a variation, was invented by a coach who had small players and no defense. He came up with it as a way to control the ball and the clock, forcing a low scoring game and giving his kids a chance to win. The spread and the veer
Click images for desktop size: "Swan King" by Michael Parkes were invented for the similar reasons.
Now the coach I was talking to liked to run a no huddle offense. That can be a very pretty thing to see and to execute. It requires experienced players who know the game well enough to react and play almost on pure reflex. Payton Manning and Tom Brady showed you can play an entire game that way. It increases your time with the ball and wears a defense down. But if you don't have experienced players the nu huddle is a brutal thing to see, ugly and sad. You have QB;a making wrong reads, and WR's running wrong routes and worst of all you have O-Linemen hesitating instead of attacking.
In football one-tenth of a second is the difference between a TD and a tackle for a loss. That's why speed is so important. As are reflexes. A football player who has to stop and think even for a tenth of a second is a guy who is still standing there thinking while the play is over.
That is exactly the play I saw that night. The Head Coach was locked into running a no huddle offense even though he had no personnel that were equipped or ready to run it. That means that the coach cared more about his dreams and ambitions than he did about the players on the field. The team is 0-8. That kind of record breeds weird things in young men's minds. Some forget about winning and just try and enjoy being on the team. Most begin to doubt themselves and their worth as players and as human beings as they see themselves failing miserably at executing their coach's orders. I think that the coach is giving orders that shouldn't have ever been given.
That he wasn't willing to scrape the no huddle and work instead on executing his plays, in teaching how to figure the assignments and how to attack the assignments tells me the truth behind the words.
I could never work with a coach who places his tiny dreams over the hearts and ambitions of his players.
That's all there is to it really.
My puppy remains. She's doing well on her diet. She looks beautiful. To me she never stopped
Click images for desktop size: "Conan and Red Sonja" by John Buscema looking beautiful.
Her life has taken some upset again, not in a bad way, but upset is upset. My housemate got a new puppy from the shelter. He moved in on Tuesday I think.
He's a rottweiller mix. He's pretty goofy and lovable. My puppy hates him. He's taken to "marking" everything she has, my bed, her bed etc. He gets too rambunctious and when my puppy tries to get him to back off he gets vicious with her. He wants to play but he's too young, too wild and too big!
He's bitten me a few times, play bites but they hurt. He doesn't back down when you yelp like most dogs. He needs training but for right now he needs to realize he's no longer in the shelter. He was there for 6 weeks and before that . . . He was a surrender but his owners couldn't even be bothered to bring him into the shelter, they called the dog catcher and told him to pick it up or they'd kill it.
When he calms down he's pretty nifty. My puppy still hates him but she's willing to try playing with him and just turning her back on him when he doesn't act "right".
He'll be fine. I just hope that the two of them can learn to play together. They both need rough and tumble playmates.

Last week I was an uninspiring 8-6 in my NFL picks. Well, uninspiring to someone with my lofty standards perhaps but to someone who was, oh, shall we say 7-7 a record of 8-6 must look very lofty and impressive indeed.
My friend was 7-7 last week. Her cheating finally caught up with her! She still leads for the season 52 to 50 . . . I believe she hacked the website but it would be beneath me to say that until I get the evidence. I make no accusations but I point out that she is leading and keeps beating me week in and week out. I only ask how is this possible?
I read a lot of columnists agreed with me that last weeks NFL schedule was the dreariest ever. This weeks is no better really.
The biggest news is that the NFL actually decided to not let an avowed racist own an NFL team. Rush Limbaugh, who describes the NFL as watching the Bloods vs the Crips, wanted to buy the St Louis Rams. A few players said that they would refuse to play for a boss who hated them because of their skin color. Fair deal.
As badly as Goodell has responded to the lack of parity in the league and his bumbling handling of Michael Vick at least he was quick to respond and refuse Limbaugh to purchase an NFL team.
Limbaugh, of course, blames the blacks and the liberals. He never apologized for being a racist. He never explained it or claimed it was said merely to pump up his ratings. He was appalled that he didn't have a right to buy a team and make it all white, I guess.

My picks are in bold.


Click images for desktop size: "Sea Creature" by Evegeny Houston at Cincinnati- Last week Carson Palmer's win against the Ravens was a thing of incredible beauty. They played a classy well ordered game against a what appeared to be a stronger team. The only way the woeful Texans win is if the Bengals fall asleep and relax against a mediocre opponent.

Detroit at Green Bay - This is saved from being a cruddy game of the week contender by Aaron Rodgers spirited play and that the Packer defense hasn't curled up and died. Like all .500 teams the Packer's main problem has been consistency. They should be able to put together a pretty complete game against the Lions. The Lions have improved a lot since last year but not enough to pose anything other than an upset threat. The win against Washington has sharpened the NFL, no one will over look them again.

St Louis at Jacksonville - Cruddy game of the week contender. As the team at the center of the Rush Limbaugh fiasco, well, a major distraction is what this woeful team needs. Anything would be better than thinking about the quality of football they're playing. The Jaguars are one of those joker teams playing the elite teams well while messing up with everyone else. It would take an amazing amount of screw ups to lose to this Rams team.

Baltimore at Minnesota - Game of the Week Contender. The Ravens two losses were beautiful things, games that bought out the best in their opponents. They played sterling football and got beat via legendary efforts. This is still a great team but they've yet to rise to the level that lets them produce those super human efforts themselves. Meanwhile the Vikings are making the Bret Favre acquisition appear to be a genius move. Adrian Petersen is still the most fearsome back in the league and Favre is just the guy who can make a defense pay when it tries to misalign to contain the running threat. The Viking D is playing up to expectations which is just good enough. In Baltimore I'd pick the Ravens but in the Vikings DomeI have to go with Favre and Petersen.

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Al Moore
New York Giants at New Orleans - Game of the Week. Two undefeated teams. Both with attitude. The Giants are blue bloods, a team expected to win and the Saints, a team that got famous for having it fans show up wearing bags over their heads. Drew Brees is an elite QB and flanked with Pierre Thomas, Reggie Bush and a vengeful minded ex Giant in Jeremy Shockey, they produce one of the most potent and pretty offenses in NFL history. And the Saints Defense is suddenly looking fierce and serious. John Vilma has finally become the LB he was expected to be. The Giants O has been solid, good running game, Eli Manning has been consistent and his passing attack has barely noticed the lack of high quality receivers. Their D is slightly off looking but hasn't really been challenged yet. They'll be challenged today for sure. This should be business as usual for the Giants while the Saints are looking to be taken seriously. Normally I'd pick the business like team but this time I want the Saints to win so badly I scarcely care. This is a pick for my heart.

Cleveland at Pittsburgh - This is my survivor pick of the week. Only 2,993 people still in the Survivor contest. I wonder if the teams will wear those horrible throwback uniforms this week. Do they serve Rolling Rock in Three Rivers? I always think of that as Pittsburgh's beer. Its probably some corporate NFL approved beer. I think my shoelace is untied. And that's the more interesting things that cross my mind when thinking about this game.

Carolina at Tampa Bay - Cruddy Game of the Week contender. Maybe the Panthers are getting it together, I mean they finally won one . . . Their defense is a gawdawful mess which matches up well with the gawdawful Buccaneer offense. I expect a lot of Cadillac Williams up the middle . . . I have no idea what the major talent on the Panthers' O will do. Not much from past experience. Which is okay because there's not much the Buc's can do to stop much of anything.

Kansas City at Washington - Cruddy Game of the Week. I'm picking the Chiefs because the Redskins are just too appalling to believe. How did they win 2 games? The Chiefs can't be as bad as their record insists they are. Can they?

Philadelphia at Oakland - There's talk of arresting the Raiders HC for punching one of his assistants . . . which is more hitting then the Raiders are doing on the field. If the Eagles lose this one they should force Vick to go apologize to the dogs he refused to visit (jerk) while the rest of the team should seek anominity by opening up a record store across the bridge in Berkeley.


Click images for desktop size: "Smokers" by Unknown Arizona at Seattle - In the papers, on Monday morning this game might look more interesting then it will be to watch. Hasslebeck has the Seahawks looking respectable while the Cardinals are committed to making last years Superbowl run look like a pure fluke.

Tennessee at New England - Here are two underperforming teams. At least the Patriots have looked solid. The Titans looked good in their season opening day loss and then have proceeded to totally disintegrate. Tom Brady's getting more and more on stride and his supporting cast is getting healthier. The Patriots O-Line is looking cracked and suspect but that won't be much of a problem against the Titans. I'd look for the Patriots to fatten up here and get completely well and confident.

Buffalo at New York Jets - After a record setting 3 wins reality hit Mark Sanchez hard with one loss where he looked terrible and another loss where the Jet defense was inept. Sanchez sent out a tweet last night asking opinions on what movie he should watch. (Hangover, Angels and Demons, Terminator, Funny People, Public Enemies or Star Trek) Nothing fills me with confidence more than a relaxed QB, At home against a sketchy Bills defense Sanchez should completely on track. Trent Edwards and Terrell Owens have not looked very good. Marshall Lynch may have hit a wall in his career. They shouldn't pose many threats for the Jet D.

Denver at San Diego - This is a good intriguing game. The Bronco's have a jaw dropping looking record put together with fluke plays and the leagues strongest home field advantage. Are they real? This is a solid test in their division. The Chargers are 2-2 even while Philip Rivers is looking pure elite and near flawless. This is do or die for both teams and the best Monday Night game in ages. I'm looking for the Bronco's to possibly getting exposed on national TV while the Chargers look to shine on the big stage.

Chicago 21 at Atlanta 20 - This is a good mid level game, like the type that should fill the NFL schedule (instead of all the cruddy games dominating the schedule now). I've flip flopped on this one a lot. It's a good game to think about with Jay Cutler and Matt Ryan and two solid defenses. Neither team has much of a sustained running attack so it's going to be an aerial fantasy. I think Cutler has a slight edge with his less than stellar receivers which includes the enigmatic but incredibly explosive Devin Hester. And this is one game where special teams could be a huge factor in which case the Bears have it all over the Falcons.

These picks are for amusement and ridiculing only any other use is just kind of foolish don't you think?

Posted by David at 3:20 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Look Deep" by Unknown My puppy and I are really back to normal; CONSTANT BICKERING.
Wouldn't have it any other way.
She is still too protective of me but she's settled in nicely.

My housemate has decided to get a new dog. His passed away about 6 months ago. She was a good girl.
I went to the pound with him a couple of times. I thought almost all the dogs were pretty special for one reason or another. He picked two, went and spent time with each of them in these little visitor "cells". Then we took the big step of taking my puppy to meet his final choice, a male rottweiler mix, somewhere between 6 months and 9 months old. He's a handful.
My puppy didn't like him. She wouldn't, especially when I'm around. It will be fine. She's been around fosters and other dogs most of her life. She'll bully him and then decide he's worth playing with. The point of the meeting, in my mind, was to make sure he didn't try and savage her. My puppy thinks she's a great fighter but . . .
I managed to talk the person showing us the dog to let us take them both on a walk around the property. It went well, I thought. We even managed to have a chance encounter with the other dog my housemate had picked out. It made for a pleasant day.
Today he went and filled out the adoption papers, paid the fee. The new dog should be moving in sometime between Wednesday and Friday. Coolness.

I still have a cold. It's the reason I'm not supposed to catch colds. The cough is irritating but not debilitating.

The coolness is that I got a second hand iPod Touch. I like it a lot. Cost me $75, so far works fine. I
Click image: "Neat and Tidy" by Major League Baseball got a raise at work so this was my treat . . . actually I just wanted one. I like being connected on the WIFI but its pretty obvious that having an iPhone and 3GS connections would be incredible and incredibly expensive. I'll stick with this and just hope for miraculous hot spots. Since I have WIFI at work it means I can answer emails and stuff at will instead of hoping the owners fix the rickety lap top we have at our disposal.

The WIMAX from ClearWire is pretty paradoxical. It went out, the modem wouldn't connect. I called and was told that it was because I would have to move to their Clear service which is 5 meg down and 50K up. (50 k up is painfully slow, 5 meg down is okay). I had to wait 3 days to get the new modem. When I got it they hooked up fine but there was a weird charge on my card. I called again and got an apology and a credit, 3 days later, for the $25. Curious.
I was reservedly happy with the Clear service, even though I thought this was a lot of grief for a service that wasn't a month old yet. Until I got an email telling me I was using the service too much and they were going to cut me off or charge me more . . . So I'm not allowed to use the bandwidth they give me? YOW!
This isn't going to work out for sure. Hammering my debit card with two incorrect charges for some unknown reason, cutting me off for 3 days, then say that I'm using the service more than anticipated is kind of nutso. They claim the service agreement covers excessive use but that seems crazed to me. I'm paying for a service that I can't use? Great googa mooga. What a great idea for a business, selling you stuff you're not allowed to use.
WIMAX is a totally cool idea but Clear or ClearWire are jerks and not a trustworthy company from my experience.
Back to looking for a dry loop dsl provider.

I still don't have a TV but thanks to friends I got to see an mkv fie of the USC-Cal game. Very interesting. I'm impressed and dumbfounded by turns. The greatest disappointment for me was the O-Line. I expected them to be monsters and they've looked merely competent. Too much talent to
Click images for desktop size: "Art and Beauty" by Robert Crumb not overwhelm.
Matt Barkley doesn't look as good as the hype. I know his shoulder must still be sore but he lacks the confidence at weird times. Maybe with Ronald Johnson coming back for Notre Dame the deep threat will let him open up his game.
I'm incredibly unimpressed with Jeremy Bates as a play caller. Way too much NFL fear play calling. College ball is about being loaded on faith and hope and looking to a player to step up and perform a miracle. It's not about making the "safe" call and prevent defenses.
Still this is a very good exciting team I feel proud of.

I went and saw the worst football game of my life on Friday night. Very poor. It made me sad as the kids were pretty typical and totally willing to lay it all out there.
I got to talk to the HC and they're interested in having me as an assistant. He said all the right things but when I watched the game I realized I could never work for him.
The team is 0-8 for a reason, and it's not the talent of the kids. The HC had implemented a no huddle offense. You could see hesitation at the line as the kids attempted to remember over complicated assignments. The no huddle is a very cool thing if you've got the personnel. It was obvious that this isn't the case. It was just an ego thing playing to the HC's fantasy and ignoring the talents and weaknesses of the kids.

Click images for desktop size: "Frank Sinatra" You have to lead kids and the only way to do it successfully is to be their servant.

And to prove my deep understanding of the game of football; last week I was an impressive 9-5 in my NFL picks. I can bask in that for a moment. 9-5.
I forget what my friend got. I think I was 11-3 or something trivial. I have discovered how she cheats. She reads my picks and the ones I get wrong she chooses the other teams! How low and nearly contemptible. I don't think her score is official so even if she unofficially has 45 correct picks for the season my 42 exactly correct picks are assuredly official and hence count for far more. As usual my picks are in bold.

Cincinnati at Baltimore - The Game of the Week1 Carson Palmer is playing like the elite QB he is while the Bengal defense is playing way over their heads. They are looking like a play off team. This week they meet the team I still think has a chance to get to the SuperBowl. The Ravens are playing meticulous football. Their game against the Patriots showed they are in the oxygen thin stratosphere, a brilliant team playing at the level of their talent, executing with precision and playing with heart. The Bengals are playing with intensity and beauty as well, but theirs has the feel of street football, which is exciting and pretty in
Click images for desktop size: "The Outsiders" by Marvel Comics its own way. I'd love to see the Bengals win this one but the Ravens don't look like a team ready to lose two in a row.

Cleveland at Buffalo - This is an up year rating wise for the NFL. The good games are great but pretty few. This season offers up more stinkers every week than you can imagine. Like this cruddy game of the week contender. Buffalo has talent and Terrell Owens making waves. Cleveland has . . . Derek Anderson, who I still like and then . . .

Washington at Carolina - This stinker has the winless Panthers coming off a bye week. Did they use the time trying to pull the team together or did they grouse about their contracts? The Redskins are a mess but less of a mess than the Panthers. This one could end up 6-3 or 49-47. Either way it will stink.

Pittsburgh at Detroit - I watched Ben Roethlisberger on RAW this week. I was surprised at how much I liked him. He took it to the Chargers last week and the Lions don't have much to compare to the Chargers or to anyone except the Panthers and Buccaneers. This is almost a sure win.

Dallas at Kansas City - The rest of the world is finally twigging to the fact that Tony Romo is not a very good QB. The Cowboys look good as a power running team though and have enough good backs to keep inserting them, at least for now. The Chiefs . . . I feel sorry for them. They have some players and those players are surrounded by a bunch of practice squad stiffs who seem to have given up on the season already. The Cowboys are ripe for picking off but I've no confidence in the team rising to the occasion.

Oakland at New York Giants - Another slaughter. It doesn't matter whether or not Eli Manning plays. The Giant Defense will score enough points to beat the hapless Raiders.

Tampa Bay at Philadelphia - My Survivor pick of the week. McNabb looks on schedule to come back this week. Doesn't really matter as Kolb has the team looking pretty good. I just hope they keep Vick off the field. The Buccaneers have Cadillac Williams and then a prayer.

Minnesota at St Louis - The 4-0 team vs the 0-4 team . . . so much for parity. The most interesting thing about this game will be seeing if Adrian Petersen runs wild after being contained pretty well last week.

Atlanta at San Francisco - Game of the Week contender. The 49er's are playing beautiful football,
Click images for desktop size: "The Family" by Unknown the team rising above the individual players talent to being a cohesive force. The Falcons are a good team coming off a bye week. It will be an exciting match. I'm going with home field advantage to make my pick but I suspect it will come down to the final two minutes one way or the other.

Houston at Arizona - This is one of those white noise games. It will happen but no one really knows why. The most interesting thing to me is wondering when the Cardinals will let Matt Linehart into the game.

Jacksonville at Seattle - This cruddy game has some small interest in that I think the Seahawks can actually win. I'm a Jack Del Rio fan but his Jaguars, this season, are an incredibly inconsistent bunch. This is a long haul road trip to an unfriendly place. The Seahawks, what little I've seen of them have not looked like a bad football team. Matt Hasslebeck should return this game. They have a chance.

New England at Denver - I have no idea how the Broncos got to 4-0. Its like last season, somehow they get all the flukey breaks in the first half of the season before it all come crashing down. The Patriots don't really believe in flukes or luck. I watched the Raven game and this is a scrappy team. I like that. This could be a good game.

New York Jets at Miami - Mark Sanchez and the Jets ran into a buzz saw called New Orleans last week. They didn't look that bad. They have a chance to look good against a confused and confusing Dolphin squad. Sanchez tweeted right after the game something like "I made a lot of mistakes and cost us the game. I have to study and learn from them and not let them happen again." We'll get to see here. I'm counting on the cocky kid.

Indianapolis at Tennessee - At the start of the season this looked like it be a cool matchup, a changing of the guard as the Titans stepped up over the Colts. Instead it's a flash back to ten years ago with the colts being 4-0 and the Titans being 0-4. The Colts keep improving each week while the Titans keep blowing up and looking worse and worse. I can't see prime time making any changes in any of this.

These brilliant picks are for your amusement only. You might want to print them out and use them to light your fireplaces.

Posted by David at 3:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "5 cm" by Kabegami My puppy has finally recovered from her diarrhea. His distress was caused by some stupid government regulation that was supposed to protect somebody or other. Certainly it wasn't intended to protect her or to protect me.
That's the problem with governments; they always start off planning to fulfill some dream, some hopes but they always just turn into governments.
I wish I knew of something that could replace governments. I can't. I just know that what they all evolve into is something evil and wrong.
But we need them. We can't live without governments. We can't trust ourselves.
The rich are going to rip off the poor and the poor are going to steal from the middle class while the middle class kill each other. So we need laws to slow down the process, except for the rich of course.
We need roads, we need dams. Maybe not in the excess that some governments build them, but we need them. And governments naturally begin to feel important. Graft sets in. The cops become uniformed thugs. Laws aren't passed to protect the people but to protect the government.
Governments can tolerate enemies, but they seldom do. There are too many ways to kill. It's too easy to not simply kill.
When you're a government its easy to ignore the law, merely pretend it doesn't exist, selectively apply a law, or just rip through your enemies with impunity.
Governments, after a certain time, have no other function than to protect themselves. They will protect themselves to the point of war, sometimes gaining, sometimes losing but always winning by using the carnage of war to thin the crop of people who might be difficult and potentially pose a threat to the government.
It is not above a government to declare war against the people it was intended to govern.

Click images for desktop size: "The City" by Edward Hopper I don't like governments. I just don't have a viable alternative. Government is by nature corrupt and cruel. Its inevitable that it forget its original purpose and ignore its mandate All governments end up hurting more people than they protect, kill more than they aid. They perpetuate senseless appearing acts, but far from being nonsensical these acts are nothing more than carefully constructed props to insure the governments survival. It is a monolith comprised of desperately lazy people who thrive off the hard work of the people they govern.
There's little to like about a government. And little to choose between them. I was indoctrinated, like most of us, that democracy was cool and its flip was despotic tyranny, which was evil.
I was in Uganda during the reign of Idi Amin. The border guards were threatening and intimidating, brandishing automatic weapons. They forced us to change our money into Ugandan script and charged us a usurious rate.
In Uganda the people were genial. They seemed happy in our limited view.
When I returned home I was greeted by armed customs officers who charged me an insane duty on worthless knick knacks and souvenirs.
I'm sure there's a difference but its beyond me to see.
A few years ago, In London, I meet a Ugandan. He was a nice guy. He told me a story about Idid Amin. He didn't know the man. He
Click images for desktop size: "Elvis" agreed he'd gone insane but he still thought of him with an intense pride. He told me a story about Amin entering some sort of auto race. He was proud that his ruler was willing to go out and compete with his people. He was proud that his leader was willing to have fun with the "common" people. He thought that Amin was a man to be proud of.
In Canada I was recently held on demonstrably perjured evidence by a racist cop. I was illegally detained, my freedom quashed, treaties broken, I was tortured, nearly killed.
The Canadian government doesn't dispute any of this. They genuinely don't care or feel anything about this is extraordinary. So it seems safe to assume that this is all pretty natural to them, that "of course our cops lie and cheat, steal and kill. How else would you expect them to get anything done?"
Governments must all look the same when you're within them.
Governments do a lot of things. In 300 years America allowed slavery, abolished slavery then said we could no longer treat the slave's descendants as slaves but as human beings.

Click images for desktop size: "Petra Neimann" by Unknown Even setting aside the issue about how the hell we ever allowed slavery in the first place I have to think that 300 years to fix the stupid injustice is a bit out of line.
So. Governments are clunky, self serving, efficient only in the modes of harming their governed. And I've got no answers or alternatives.
People used to call me an anarchist because of the way I think. That's lazy thinking. I'm not into anarchy. Not into massive violence. Revolution only brings in a new government and starts the same old processes over and over again.
If anything I'm just a mean old cranky stoic existentialist, not the French kind of existentialist, the born in America kind. For politics I'd fall closest to the far right because I believe in freedom but I also believe most in community and that every person in the community has an obligation to each other. I just don't believe we need a government to enforce that obligation, which makes the label that fits closest: Humanistic Populist. That takes me out of the far right camp and makes me seem like a liberal, who are so ashamed of being liberal that they changed their name to progressive.
So I'm old, mean, crabby and easy to label. Not much but its me. I never promised to be deep.
Today I got to read my cardiologists report. No question I had a second heart attack. A doctor I don't know read the data and decided it appeared the second heart attack was induced by "criminal negligence at best but there are several indications that it was intentionally induced". That's when the Canadian government threw me into a Maximum Security prison for no reason other than they could. When they found out they made a mistake they decided they had to kill me. It went on to say that my surviving the second heart attack was beyond their medical expertise to explain. I know why though: stubbornness and meanness.
Logical thinking for the Mafia, the Nazi's and other despotic governments. They tried a few different ways to kill me. I don't think I fought back very hard. How could I?
Now a reasonable man would say that the Canadian government would be one to avoid at all costs. They struggle by with their rep and live their little racist government lives, destroying people,
Click images for desktop size: "Unknown" by Unknown humans for corporate greed and off kilter ideology.
Stay out of Canada boy. I don't have a private army or any large bore weapons so it would seem like good advice.
There wasn't much I liked in Canada. And a whole lot I didn't. Like their recent decision to allow two giants to control all communication in the country. Rah! Pretty 3rd world stuff. Idi Amin and Hitler both did similar and communicating with people was a lot more difficult back then so it was easier to control.
Normally I'd have no desire to ever see that white hell hole again. I've got enough to do just staying alive. I've fought countries before. You can win but its pretty costly and winning is counted as just slightly more than you lose.
As usual there's something that counters good sense and primal survival instincts. Give it a fancy name: Elevated survival instincts?
There are three reasons that trump common sense. Two of them are fuzzy; not in conception but in texture.
I saw my doctor Thursday. She was pretty horrified reading the cardiologists report. She said something that irritates me. "When I read your medical history I think that I should be talking to a shriveled up broken man but you still look so strong. You don't even look your age." I know how much I've aged and I think I look 30 years older than I looked 10 years ago.
She gave me the number of a lawyer while she explained that she couldn't begin to guess how much longer I'd live. I told her that according to the last actuarial table I saw I out lived my expectancy last year. She laughed and said, "you might live till your 90! No one can know. You're doing remarkably well. But with your medical history I don't see how anyone can promise you anything."
No promises.
So I don't feel it would be fair to ask my friends to move from hell hole Canada to the chaos of my my America. Not when I could keel over in a year or two or five or ten.
Maybe that's not my decision to make. At least on my own. That's a late night thought.
Governments and their borders. How can't you hate them.

Physical therapy is going slowly but it is going. Its been dark and rainy here and that's making my shoulder ache . . . Yeah, I'm now one them old galoots. "By crakey my shoulders aching. We be in for a big storm and a long winter!"
The physical therapist put the interact on my shoulder again. It registered a reading of 80. It should be 10. He said its not the worst he's ever seen. After the treatment it was down to 54. The numbers measure the rigidity and hardness of the muscles and ligaments.
On Friday I did swimming pool therapy. Underwater exercise reduces the pain of stretching and rotating busted up joints.

Click images for desktop size: "Dace On a Swing" by Unknown I felt pretty lame doing the incredibly simple exercises. I mean, the most difficult one was clapping! I had to do it underwater so that probably increases the difficulty by .05%
The pool is designed for therapy. Lots of ramps and stairways into it and it goes from 4'6" to 5'6" deep. It's a rough trapezoidal shape about 35 feet on a square.
As soon as I touched the water I had to try and swim. Nearly killed me. The arm squeerched up at the first stroke.
The new physical therapist yelled on me, "This is a therapy pool! No swimming!"
It felt good to be in water and I tried to fake it by just porposing to my destination. Porposing is swimming just using your legs.
The exercises were all ludicrously easy. But my shoulder was incredibly sore an hour afterwards. My range of motion has increased a good 9 inches forward, about 3 inches reaching up and about 1 inch reaching back. The rotation of the joint has hardly improved at all. Bot physical therapists say I have to extend the first two a bit more before we can start working on the rotation. For some reason I understand that.
On Monday I see the physical therapist and then my orthopedist.
I'm starting to get fed up with all the doctor appointments. Its starting to feel like when I had leukemia and doctors overwhelmed my life. That was trying to stay alive. This is just trying to live easy.
Between the doctors and my constant tiredness, caused by lack of sleep and my cruddy job, I feel that I have no life.
Last evening my puppy and I went to watch a high school football game. To ease her into it we went and watched from a hill overlooking the stadium. Aside from the end zone view of it they're excellent seats.
My puppy used to be an excellent football coach. Three years ago she got an award for being the team coach of the year. We've watched other games from this hillside. She was always very interested before. This time she showed no interest at all, except in some bushes and some perhaps edible garbage nearby.
I guess she's got no interest in coaching anymore. Maybe her award was the pinnacle of her career. How will she ever best that. I note that without sadness and only a twinge of nostalgia. She was tons of fun to have on the practice field but I wouldn't force it on her.
I bought her back home. My plan was to drop her off and then return to the stadium proper to meet the new head coach and to discuss whether there was anything I could do for the team this season.
What actually happened was we made the five minute walk home. I sat down in my chair to check e-mails and then woke up at 3:30 AM . . .
I gotta get a new job.

Posted by David at 12:54 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Enforced Modesty" by Unknown Eventful week, so far.
I guess the biggest impact was that on Wednesday I quit my job. The Security Guard who extorted 20 bucks from me and then broke 4 promises to repay me came into the office for a confrontation. It was strange.
He started it with, "I tell you everybody loves me!"
The only response is, "If everybody loves you why did you have to borrow money from me and tell me you'd have to hurt your dog if you didn't get it?"
He ignored that and went on to get nastier and more insane. He did the traditional jerk thing, exaggerated facts, made up others to fit his world view, ignored my facts and versions with insane justifications. It was wearisome.
I finally got to the point where I couldn't take it so I called my boss, at 1:00 AM and told him I was giving two weeks notice. The Security Guard grabbed the phone from me and said, "This is Sergeant Kayhlee." I stopped listening to him but I wondered why a security guard would insist on introducing himself by a make believe rank. I still don't have a real insight to that.
After that I put it out of my mind and finished off the night. Then at 7:00 AM my boss came in and asked me to reconsider. Since I spent the night feeling partially relieved and partially worried about having no job, figuring how long my final paycheck would last me, I said sure and retracted my resignation.
I hope I don't regret that too soon.

While staying with my housemate I've been cadging off of his Road Runner service. I really hate Time Warner and Road Runner. When it works it's barely adequate but then it doesn't often work, at least out here.

Click images for desktop size: "House Plans" by Unknown The service here is supposed to be 5 MB. They charge for it. I usually was able to connect at about 240 KB. But then the line would drop several times a day. Of course Time Warner insisted everything was running fine.
When I originally lived in this area I had fits with Time Warner. During one 6 month stretch I had 12 service calls and horrid service. Finally they sent a supervisor out. His response was to yell at me for stupidly having the wrong modem . . . the wrong cable modem as provided by Time Warner.
He replaced the modem two weeks later and things went fine enough, unless it rained or was too windy, but I accepted that.
What I didn't accept was that no credit appeared on my bill. It took about 16 phone calls and two months for Time Warner to give me 1 months credit for the six months of non-service created by their installing the wrong modem.
Now, the service here now was as bad as the service then.
Rather then war with an uncaring government supported monopoly I decided to try WiMax. I'm more interested in the LTE network but ClearWire is the only one with towers around here. Even though they are 4G they claim they can update to LTE with no problem.
For those who don't know WiMax is sort of like having a cellphone. It catches the internet from out of the air. All you need is a modem or a card and you have the internet anywhere you're within range of a tower.
So the only wires are a power cord and the ethernet cable going to your router or computer.
The only serious drawback to ClearWire in this area is the top speed of 1.5 Mbps. Crazily enough that is only slightly slower than the 5 Mbps Road Runner. And the ClearWire has yet to show a hint of going down.
I've been promised that within 3 months and probably sooner I'll be free upgraded to a 5Mbps modem and service with no increase in price.
A lot of the reviews talk about how happy they were with ClearWire at the start but then claimed that the service degenerated. The slightly slower speed and that worry keep me from completely enjoying or endorsing ClearWire.

Click images for desktop size: "The Little Big Horn" by Unknown If I get a MacBook Pro, as I plan for my next computer, the idea of go anywhere unlimited internet for 30 bucks a month is very exciting cool.

My puppy has completely readjusted. We are back as an inseparable unit where she knows and trusts me and I her.
It didn't take long.
We have serious talks. She tells me jokes, pulls her tricks on me and does nothing that doesn't reinforce our love. There are so many things she does that I figure everyone but me would find sort of boring, like when she does her imitation of me.
I've managed to create an explanation for our first few horrifying minutes together. I don't think it anthropomorphizes my puppy.
If I were 3 or 4 again and saw the world through those eyes; and if I loved someone and one day I saw my loved one dragged away, strapped to a stretcher and loaded with IV's and wires I wouldn't be able to understand it but I would no it was not good. And then days went by and I didn't see him.
And my life would be a little empty and sad.
One day I got trundled off and sent to live with people I knew, one of them my brother. And I'd think about my loved one being carted away and I'd remember those scary nights I spent sitting with him in hospital and I would decide I would never see him again. I would decide this was my new life.
As I'd been taught I'd work being happy in my new life, with new people and new things to see and do. And like would be good (because if a human being is allowed to forget everything wouldn't a
Click images for desktop size: "Doris Day" dog have enough sense to do the same?)
Then on another day, after just enough time to think this was going to be my life forever, I get trundled off again and taken back to a neighborhood that I used to know, to a house I sort of recall and when the car pulls up to the house there's a man I knew and loved. And I know that it can't be. I know that man is gone because if he weren't gone he never would have left me for so long.
That's the way my puppy responded. She looked at me when the car pulled in the driveway. Her eyes widened and she then ran to the other side of the car, trying to get as far away from the ghost as possible. She snapped at me when I go close and stayed afraid until she realized I wasn't a ghost. Then she was angry. Angry that I'd left her, left her alone.
Then finally she was glad to see me.
It took about a half hour. Then she was afraid I'd gone away forever again. She knows that we're together now. She gets nervous if I'm late coming home from work. She looks out the window and paces. She still greets me with a smile.
We had to go to the bank this morning. We walked past her pet dinosaur. Someone had cut the head off and the head had recently been replaced. She ran to her dinosaur and was irked that they'd put up a new fece. You can see the repair to the fiberglass but you have to be looking for it. They did
Click images for desktop size: "Fatal Blonde" by Ricky Carralero the repair well.
The repair between my puppy and I was done better. We're both flesh and blood and want to be with each other.

The physical therapy is going great. I've added about 7 inches to some of the rotation, and two or three inches of movement to the worst parts. There's pain, sometimes big slabs of pain, but at its worst it's not as bad as the continual pain I had prior to the steroids shot.
I had a treatment with an intraxtor device. It's a more modern version of the TENS machine. It allows heavier doses of electricity to enter the muscle mass but doesn't create the muscle contractions of the TENS machines.
It is all helping a lot.
On Friday I have to go to the swimming pool. There's a whole series of exercises designed for underwater and to help stretch the shoulder while approaching the atrophied muscles.
Spent two days breaking up the adhesions that have developed on the right shoulder blade. It hurt a lot but immediately increased the range of the arm.
It makes me feel more human even if between PT, doc's and work it feels like I'm getting nothing important to me done, I still feel more human.

Posted by David at 3:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Eastern Western Eyes" by Unknown After looking horrible the entire game Joe McKnight managed to win it for the Trojans. Matt Barkley looked over his head. Maybe this was enough experience to send him through the brutal Pac 10 schedule to come.
With Lou Holtz and Notre Dame crashed to reality the schedule makes it look like a National Championship run is possible, but we're still away to Cal . . . and the UCLA defense looked decent against Tennessee. Looks like a great season ahead. Now if I only had a TV . . .
I got my puppy her rabies shot, which duplicated her rabies shot from 4 months ago, her three year rabies shot from four months ago . . . stupid governments.
Our vet, Dr K, was shocked to see us. My puppy is looking gorgeous and I'm not dead.
Everyone seems to think I don't look bad enough. My puppy's gramma, who is a nurse, made comments to that effect. My physical therapist, who is a great guy but I still hate anyone who hurts me as much as he does, had to read the medical records because he didn't believe I'd had two heart attacks in the last 90 days.
I guess its good to look better than expected. I don't see that its gotten me anything.
After the vet we went for a walk in the woods. My puppy loved it. She even dived into the river to get herself a drink. She is still too protective of me and still a bit too co-dependent but she's for sure my dog and is happy, even if she did get a shot.

First week of the NFL. Here are my picks. Laughter is not mandatory, nor will I back up my choices with money!
My picks are in bold.

Tennessee at Pittsburgh - I made the right choice but for the wrong reasons. I got to see an avi of the game and was impressed with the Titans. Very impressed. They've improved when I'd figured
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Unknown they'd gone downhill. For the Steelers they still have Troy on Defense and Heinz Ward on O. Ward plays wide receiver like you dream your receivers might one day play.

Miami at Atlanta - My screwball pick of the week. The Dolphins looked good in pre-season. Really! THe Falcons looked okay. The Dolphins have something to prove to the world and too themselves while the Falcons are already seeing themselves in the play offs. I'm going with the hungry team with no dreams in their hearts, just a gritty need to win.

Kansas City at Baltimore - The Ravens are beasts. The Chiefs are not. Matt Cassell gives them a chance but he's coming off a short pre-season and an injury. These are not the guys you want to practice against. I don't see how the Chiefs can stop anything the Ravens can do on offense. I also would be terribly impressed if they scored.

Philadelphia at Carolina - I'm one of those guys who thinks that VIck served his time in prison and deserves a second chance. I dislike the cynicism that the NFL showed in reinstating him so quickly. I also hate the harsh business sense that led the Eagles to taking him; to push McNabb and to play VIck enough to win and then use him for serious trade bait. That they lied about their intended involvement in pro-animal rights and that Vick has barely paid lip service to his promise to repay dogs for the sick cruelty he perpetuated against the species makes me want to never pick this team again. The Panthers are an enigma. They still have a lot of talent but they never seem to put it together for a season, sometimes not even for a game. They'll have the Vick haters to inspire them and a home crowd. It should be close.

Denver at Cincinnati - The Bronco's trade away their best player and get nothing much in return . . .
Click images for desktop size: "Helmet" Carson Palmer showed he can be a stud but since that one glorious year he's been incredibly brittle. If they are going to roll this season they have to put it together here. Cruddy game of the week.

Minnesota at Cleveland - Brett Favre? He's still a legend. The Browns might improve this year, maybe even enough to not stink. Brady Quinn does not look good to me. The Vikings till have Adrian Petersen and who ever plays QB knows all he has to do is hand it off.

New York Jets at Houston - I don't much like the Texans and I love Mark Sanchez. But Sanchez has merely looked good in the pre-season when the intensity level gets turned to 11 I'm not sure he'll be able to match it in his first sight of it. Even with Rex Ryan (Rex?) the Jets D is pretty sickly. It will be a good game but the crappy Texans should win.

Jacksonville at Indianapolis - The Colts start without Tony Dungy. That's a huge loss. The Jaguars though have disintegrated into something unrecognizable. Payton Manning and crew will prove that life goes on without Dungy.

Detroit at New Orleans - My Sure Win of the week. Dru Brees. Reggie Bush. Matt Stafford has looked pretty bad most of the time.
Click images for desktop size: "Woman at Yellow Wells" The lions have had to improve. Inertia wouldn't let them stay as bad as they were last year but going against a committed to winning the championship Saints team is no medicine.

Dallas at Tampa Bay - I don't like the Cowboys but the Buccaneers are a terrible mess. The Cowboys would have to struggle hard to lose this one. Who cares game of the week.

San Francisco at Arizona - It's killing me. I want to pick the 49ers. I really do.Common sense kills my football picks. I expect this to be a chilling exciting game but the Cardinals just looked so sharp last year. I say Warner is a year older, players are grumbling about their contracts and getting lazy landing easy endorsement packages. They should fall.

Washington at New York Giants - All I know about the Redskins is that they didn't get any of the free agents high on their shopping list. And they're still going with Jason Campbell at QB. The Giants
Click images for desktop size: "Chosen One" by Titusboy didn't replace Plaxico Buress. What's usually a marquee match up looks pretty dreary this season. Taking the Giants out of habit.

St Louis at Seattle - A cruddy game of the week contender. If you don't live in either city why would you even care. Seattle's at home. they loaded up with agin ex-Patriots. I guess that's enough to beat a Rams team that still looks tattered.

Buffalo at New England - Game of the week. Tom Brady. And he's expecting a child. They could go 18-0.

San Diego at Oakland - The Chargers look geled. Tomlinson is old and past his prime but still a weapon. Phillip Rivers looks ready to be dominant and Shawn Merriman is back and back in trouble. Oakland needs to be disabnded. They are expansion team bad.

Chicago 34 at Green Bay 27 - Tie Breaker Game. The Packers were heading downhill last season. Not Aaron Rogers fault. The Bears pick up of Jay Cutler should energize the O to scary levels even without a legitimate wide receiver or running back. And a decent offense will spark up a ragged defense. This should be a good match that I'd like to have seen later in the season.

There you have it. My picks are for entertainment only or a good piece to pass over to your enemies who might think they want to learn more about the game.

Posted by David at 1:16 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Truck in Field" by Unknown My puppy is back with me.
The first thing she did when she saw me was to try and bite me.
She acted like she was afraid of me. For nearly 5 minutes she ran from me and tried to hide behind others.
This hurt. It hurt a lot.
She's never been afraid of me before.
She got over being fearful and she became angry. That I expected. She poked me and vocalized.
Then I war permitted to scratch her butt. After a moment of that she was suddenly glad to see me. We became inseparable again.
She slept on the bed. She was an exhausted puppy. She would sleep, then wake up and stare at me long and searching before flopping her head back down to sleep.
She was far too tired. It came time for me to go to work. I didn't want to go, but if I didn't go in, I wouldn't get paid. It's that cruddy a job.
I spent the night at work at a low level of stress. I kept worrying about my puppy. I spent hours pondering why she had acted so fearfully. It still hurts and bothers me. In all my nightmares I never imagined my puppy being afraid of me. Being bossy and angry with me are fairly normal, but she'd never been afraid of me, not even afraid to be wrong. I was the one she ran to when she was afraid. For the first time I was questioning whether my puppy and I belonged together. Whether I'd made a mistake and pulled her from someplace where she was happier and better off.
It put a light veil over the joy of our being reunited.
I rushed home. She was waiting for me at the front door. We went for a walk. She was pretty normal, the puppy I know and love. She headed for her old hangout, the corner that leads to the football stadium and the hospital. She loved coaching football. She loves being a doctor dog.
I was going to walk her past there when her grandparents, who had delivered her, drove by. They were coming for us to go to breakfast.

Click images for desktop size: "A Vampire's Rage" by Titusboy We went to the old school Southern diner. Good food. Better getting to spend some time with people who raised my puppy, it was better getting to know them better.
I got home. My puppy greeted me enthusiastically. When her grandparents went to leave she paid no attention to them, instead she stayed close to me, barely acknowledging them.
She said goodbye to them and then started to play with me.
We were playing with her Kong. My puppy gets so ecstatic and full of herself when she gets me to chase her. Suddenly the neighbor appeared. He's the wannabe drummer.
He shocked me. He told me that after I left for work my puppy howled for hours!
My puppy hadn't cried since she was about 4 months old.This distressed me. I didn't understand whether she was howling because she was alone, missing me or missing her temporary life, the life she'd just left, and the life that the two of us had to abandon.
I thanked the guy for telling me and apologized if she had disturbed him, but then he went on until I realized he was squawking. When he said that her crying had disturbed his FIVE cats sleep I started to feel angry.
There was no place for the anger so I let it go. But I remember the people who worry more about their petty comfort and value that more than the obvious distress of an animal. I can be polite but if he asks me for help with his music or playing again I'm going to politely refuse.
A dogs howl is more mournful than a human's. For a dog it is the only
Click images for desktop size: "George Chikharis" tool they have. Its is beautiful and profound. It contains their soul and expresses their fears, their heartbreak and their pleas. To not feel compassion for something that is so instinctively well crafted and full of nothing but sincerity is something I can't understand. To not be moved and compassionate forces me to harden my heart.
I've never met anyone who could ignore the distress of an animal who would understand much of anything else, including themselves. I'd listened to him moaning about his girlfriend leaving him. And I listened to him whinge about not being able to meet anyone. Know at least I knew why. It also explained the lack of passion in his drumming. It didn't explain why he couldn't keep the beat. Listening to him once I realized he doesn't count. (Drummer pun)
My housemate came home from the Labor Day weekend; I figured he'd be enough company for her that my puppy wouldn't cry. That didn't work.
She started to howl her wolf like cry of despair. SInce she's a good girl she stopped as soon as my housemate spoke to her. But she howled twice.
She met me at the door and was all excited. She remembers where she is. There was a dog whom
Click images for desktop size: "The Challenge" by Charles Marion she used to play with. It passed away last Thanksgiving. When we got to the house she lunged to see her old friend.
She kept close to me all day. She slept on the bed with me, and tried hard to push me off. She woke me to feed her. That night she only cried for me once. I remember my vet talking about the howling. She said it was mixed emotions because the dog looked so beautiful when it howled but you knew that the howl meant its heart was breaking.
Wednesday was the date of my first physical therapy appointment. It was scheduled for 2, with the car (in some circles I'm considered disabled) picking me up at 1. I needed to sleep yet my puppy was so overjoyed to see me; she was full of jokes and wiggle butt merriment.
She'd howled during the night but only the once and only about half an hour after I'd left. I think she was beginning to believe that I would come home to her.
We played and got about 30 minutes of sleep. At least that's all I got, she was pleased when I got up so she could take over the bed.
We stood outside the house together and waited for the car. She loved just standing outside with me. She loved it so much there was no protesting when the car pulled up and I had to leave her in the house.
The Physical Therapist was good, very good. Which means I'm hating him.
There are three main ligaments in the shoulder. Because of my frozen shoulder they have all shortened, the biceps and triceps have atrophied. Before we can work on the shoulder I have to lengthen the ligaments. They are so short that one of them is locked solid and can't be worked until I get some motion in the other two.
The PT pointed out that I kept my right arm too well guarded. I never relaxed it, clearly for some months. When I told him it had been bad since about April he was shocked. He wondered how I can stand that much pain for so long.
He gave me four exercises I could do They hurt and are embarrassingly simple.
I was dippy from very little sleep when I went into work that evening. But I was fine when I heard my puppy had not howled all evening.
I was starting to feel better about her being with me. I had doubts. Not about how much I needed her but doubts about whether she needed me. If she wouldn't have been happier where we used to be or where she used to be.
The doubts are dissipating more and more as we walk around and are together. I've seen that she is also initially distrustful of people she has known but then she also warms up to them in exactly the old way, but there is that moment of confusion that people feel. It wasn't as intense and there's no
Click images for desktop size: "Waiting for Spring" by Elena Savitskaya anger in her but she seems to feel a need to reintroduce herself.
Its like when I ask her if she wants to go outside to go to the bathroom or just to play. She works so hard to understand me and she considers her answer. And she always tells me the truth. It's a part of the trust between us. It's a part of the love we have for each other.
She loves her kong and when she gets me to chase her for it she nearly explodes with giddy joy. I watch her play with others and there is fun but there's not that sense of being tickled to near endurance breaking levels.
We still bicker. We still argue but we do so in the sense that no matter what the anger there's no chance of it impinging on our love for each other.
She is my dog and I am her boy.
I got paid today. I'm already broke. But I'll get through till next payday.
My puppy's aunt sent somethings along with her, including a bed my puppy sometimes uses and some toys which she ignores and food which my puppy always demands. There were also some things for me. A cool Silver Surfer T-Shirt I'm wearing now.
Today was also the second visit to the physical therapist. This one was rough. 45 minutes of having my arm manipulated. I still find it near impossible to relax the arm, this is causing some nasty bad cramping in my neck and collarbone. The manipulation heightened some of that but it also relieved the numbness in my hand.
It hurt and left me very sore but I get out of doing the painful exercises, at least for the day. I also noted I can raise my arm a good two inches higher than I could three days ago. Small but important and encouraging.
Tomorrow I have to take my puppy to see the vet to get a booster rabies shot. What a waste of time and money. Her original vaccine of only 4 months ago is made by the same American company that is approved here but because it was done out of state, not out of country, they do not recognize it. I've tried to understand. Rabies is a problem here. Its found often in raccoons and in bats(!). But this just seems stupid. No one disagrees but the government . . . I have to get her licensed so we
Click image: "Nightman and Wolverine" by Marvel Comics can get out permit to use the dog parks!
I continue to be disappointed in Snow Leopard, the new OS for the Mac. There are numerous benefits but they seem piddling to the issue with icons. For the most gorgeous interface imaginable for Apple to continue to ignore the loud complaint that the 512 pixel icons (why do you need such huge icons) suddenly vanish and that the older 128 pixel and 256 pixel icons look horrid, like a 1 inch jpeg blown up to bill board size, is inexcusable.
I always remember when Macs were a cult item. We accepted Apple's mistake calmly and with the knowledge they'd be addressed rapidly. Now that they are merely an iPod factory (Even though I still want an iPod Touch!) I am pretty disgusted with this. It is far too similar to the buggy junk that Microsoft foists on people who think they have no other choice.

Posted by David at 1:33 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Tiger Dream World" by Unknown In about 24 hours or so my puppy will be coming back to me.
Matt Barkley's debut with the Trojans was a qualified success. The whole team looked terrible in the first quarter. Our vaunted secondary looked feeble and our line looked like they were looking for a leader. On the O-Line two false starts were costly. Fumbling was endemic. It was a disaster.
Of course the way it ended was as it was expected. Over 600 yards total offense to San Jose's 100 plus. I have more confidence with Aaron Corp at QB. The offense seems stilted with Barkley. He's an awesomely talented kid but all near risk plays were off the table as they had him manage the game.
All in all the Trojans played half a game and looked incredible in the half they played. If they can play a whole game they will be frightening indeed.
Next up is the highly anticipated clash with Ohio State. They looked horrifyingly bad barely beating Navy. It took some heroics after the final Navy TD to keep the game safe. Navy was going for the two point conversion. The pass was intercepter and run back the other way for the two points to keep the victory. Before that play OSU was fading fast while Navy was accelerating.
Both lines for Ohio State looked bad. The linebackers for Ohio State looked weak and were easily blocked. Terrell Pyror played well but not brilliantly.
If they don't step it up the game next week could be a boring repeat of last years. The Trojan D looks solid enough, better than Navy's. I'd love to see a competitive game but it appears OSU might be over rated. I hope not.

In about 24 hours my puppy will be back with me. I hope she'll be glad to see me.

The NFL starts this week. I'm giving serious thought to using my next paycheck to buy a TV and then
Click images for desktop size: "Tree" by Girish Chaudry to get satellite. It is cheaper than cable and DISH Network was a package that has all I want for 30 bucks a month. Thing is I only want it for football season. Trying to sort it all out in my head and my pocketbook.
With the NFL season comes my usual NFL picks. More people, old friends, new friends and strangers write to me about the NFL stuff than any other topic . . . I guess it's amusing to see a coach with 20 years experience be so stupid about the pros. Either that or people can say "My picks were better than his! Why, I could probably coach better than him too!"
I don't know why people want to see me make a fool of myself. I won't disappoint.
My friend has signed up too. The contest I'm in has lousy prizes this year. Kind of grim. It's not about the prizes. Its about winning, no, it's about having fun.

My puppy is coming back to me in about 24 hours. I hoe she remembers me. I hope she's glad to see me.

I don't get Labor Day off. The real sign of a cruddy job.
The co-worker I liked has given notice. The job wears you down hard and fast. The customers tend to be rude and self absorbed. They quickly forget that were human too and they don't understand we get a miserable wage with no coffee breaks and no lunch break. In fact they make unreasonable demands. They also manage to make my co-workers feel unsafe. I understand it even if I don't share their fear.
I plan to keep the job either as long as I can or until I get a good job. I keep sending off resumes and scanning the ads. The pickings are scant though.


Click images for desktop size: "Fred Astaire & Rita Hayworth" My puppy is coming back to me. Less than 24 hours. I hope we're as happy together as we usually are. I worry that she missed me as much as I missed her. It took me months to ease her dependence on me. Now I'm a touch sad and proud that I was succesful. Proud of her, I mean. My puppy works hard to please me. She worked hard in her therapy dog training. She learned there how to be around people. She even learned to like some people and to tolerate those she didn't like.
My puppy's life has been pretty easy. The only harshness she's had to deal with are baths, being seperated from me, and her eternal diet. She's a fatty. I never see that. I only see my puppy and whatever it is she is inside and outside is the dog I love.
I figure she'll forgive me for being stupid enough to not have my dog with me and then she'll spend a few days making me pay . . . and whatever she does I'll find it adorable.

Posted by David at 2:29 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Predator" by Unknown One of the last memorable gigs as a band was at a benefit party. The party was being thrown by some slick, over priced arty magazine.
It was one of those functions guaranteed to attract a lot of A & R people, heavy weights, stars etc. Plus the magazine was certain to give itself serious coverage. A cover story. What was amazing was that nobody in the band objected to any of the details or even the pay. It was the bands usual tact to find some highly objectionable reason to not doing these career boosting gigs . . . We had all been in too many bands and the music excited us but the business was something that just seemed to be in the way.
It was sort of miraculous that with our lack of promotion and ambition that the party promoters had even found us. Like we once got it together to mail out ONE CD of demo's to a magazine. They picked it as the CD of the month. Wrote quite a bit about it. We all read the article, tired to take it with professional maturity and then basically did nothing. We rehearsed more and got together when we felt like it.
But we got this gig and agreed to it. I don't know who set it up. The venue was huge, very nice. Had a full pub as sort of an attachment, It had two separate stages and an outdoor amphitheater that could hold a few hundred. We were scheduled to play in the amphitheater, the fourth act. I was irked we weren't the closers but the band that was closing had a single in the charts and had a brief appearance on "Top of the Pops". They were a techno-dance band and fought for closing.
I was standing at the bar, not drinking quietly, when this fellow started talking to me. I'm used to that. For some reason a guy not drinking at a free bar attracts more attention that a rowdy drunk.
This fellow was as tall as me, fair haired going to baldness. He wore khaki shorts, broken aviator
Click images for desktop size: "Scarlet Cascade" by Unknown sunglasses, a too large hawaiian shirt, white socks and Doc Martin boots. He was drinking tonic water and bitters.
He was excited about an act in one of the smaller stages. The act was some girl who shot sparks out of her body . . . he was so excited about it that it was contagious. I had no idea why it sounded exciting but he made it seem that way. We made a date to go see the woman's act. Then our attention got diverted by the cute little hostesses who wanted us to stop our not drinking and do our sound checks. The guy in the hawaiian shirt was in a band too.
The little hostess who was assigned to take me to the staging area explained that he was the guitarist for "Siouxie and the Banshees". She made it clear she wished she'd had him to baby sit instead of me as she explained he'd also played on some of the "Little Furry Creature" tracks. My only thoughts were that he sure didn't come off like the original Goth guitarist, he was too likable for that.
We did our sound check and then did whatever we could to stave off boredom. The Hawaiian shirt Goth guitarist came and found me. The acts were starting on the inside stages and the spark girl was starting soon.
Spark girl was the opening act. Big mistake. The woman walked on stage to some nondescript acid trance music. She wasn't very pretty but she was fit. She knew how to appeal to guys. She was mostly
Click image: "Wizard of Oz-Bewtween Takes" nude. To keep it legal she had strips of black clunky metal pasted to strategic places on her body. On her head was some sort of clunky Grace Jones geometric thing. What was interesting was a high speed/power grinder in her hands.
She did some mildly salacious poses on a chair while she revved the grinder in time to the music. Suddenly she touched the grinder to her body which let off a huge shower of red and white fiery sparks. She then danced around some touching the grinder to the black strips and shooting sparks all over the place. It was great!
She ended the act by lying back on the floor and touching the grinder between her legs shooting a twenty foot shower of sparks over the audiences head.
I was pretty slack jawed. I was also starting to write songs that required an electric grinder accompaniment . . .
My time for being put in my creative place wasn't over. The Hawaiian Shirted Goth guitarist was opening the show. He had a trio he'd put together just for this gig. They were a little raw but very competent.
The Goth guitarist took the stage in exactly what he'd been wearing. He played a pink Fender. It looked customized and had a lot more sustain than you usually get from a strat.
There were about 300 people there and he treated the audience like they were guests in his living
Click images for desktop size: "Fractal Axes" by Unknown room. He was the most relaxed entertainer I'd ever seen and he was totally chilled and, of course, great!
My memory of his set was just of it always being casual, friendly and driving. But his finale was shattering. He soloed on electric guitar doing a mind blasting cover of the Beastie Boys' "(You Gotta) Fight To Party". It is now one of my primal memories defining rock & roll.
Relaxed, self assured and able to get a few hundred people dancing to just your guitar. I was humbled, jealous and thoroughly enjoyed myself.
The only negative was thinking we have to follow that!
Out of the two bands that were supposed to play, one refused to follow him and the other had a late running drummer so suddenly we had to follow that!
We did okay. Had to work is all. Made for a great show. Everything was well received.
After the set we got approached by a few managers and A & people. Signed with a manager too but at the moment Goth Guitarist and I were anxious to get to the smaller stage. There was going to be a female fire eater! We hoped for something similar to spark girl.
The fire eater was just okay. She wore a black bikini, was covered in interesting tattoos and did an interesting fire eating routine but she didn't shoot a tower a flame 20 feet over the audience's head from her vagina and after that precedent we couldn't help but be disappointed.
Oh, yeah. The magazine came out. The article was big. Opened with a double page spread of the spark girl. I think she deserved the coverage. They ran three pix of the band and wrote about a page and a half about us. I thought it weird that they only gave Goth Guitarist two columns.
The new manager got us a couple of gigs and got us into a recording studio, We laid down about a half dozen tracks and had some fun but the drummer got married, the lead singer got a job and discovered that he enjoyed not sweating the rent and eating regular. The bass player and I got this game for the Playstation and it seemed life or death to us that we get it finished . . . So another rock and roll fantasy laid to rest there.

Working the graveyard shift is killing me. Not the jobs fault. I think I'd be having the same problem working any hours. I can't sleep. The pain in my right arm just won't allow it. The latest wrinkle is that I wake up and my right hand is vibrating wildly. Vibrating faster than I can consciously will it to. I've tried to convince myself that this is a good thing, that it means the muscles are loosening up or something.
The arm was miserable the first two nights of work. Hurt constantly. The two numb fingers felt like they were filling up with blood and were fixing to explode. They don't look swollen or anything so
Click images for desktop size: "Bulls on Parade" by Olli Pekka Jauhiainen I'm lost as to what they might mean with all the hurting.
I've worked 10 straight days. This is the first day off. In that time I learned to fulfill my work duties and keep my arm protected enough that its only a distracting issue with the occasional burst of screaming agony.
The walking and being on my feet is tiresome. I have a 3.2 mile walk to and from work, which is probably a good thing for me. Except the final mile and a half coming home I discover that I'm almost crawling up the hills. I find that annoying.
Not walking on my day off I can feel my legs having a chance to recover and heal.
The job itself is inconsequential. I have little contact with my co-workers. I only deal with them at shift change. One is fine and the other is a nightmare, but I only have to see her for 15 minutes a day so it doesn't wear too thin.
One thing that bugs me is the ever present cameras. I don't like being looked at quite that much.
As to the job. Its just that a job. I have no feelings about it at all really. Maybe just too tired to know what I might feel.
The only drag part is after the shooting incident of my first day the landlords have evicted them! They plan to move the place but everywhere they've talked about moving would be impossible for me to get to. So its now a temporary job. Rather annoying.
So I'll get about 6 weeks in. I've restarted my job hunt, lightly right now but will step it up this week.

My puppy is now scheduled to be with me on Labor Day weekend. It think about that a lot. I want her with me. I keep seeing things that would interest her. I think about how how much faster my walk to work would be if she were there to help me along.
One interesting thing is that no one at my job has recognized me as her companion. Its about the only place I've been in this town where that's happened. Too tired to make anything of that.
After she's settled in and feeling comfortable I'm going to bring in a foster dog.

Posted by David at 8:58 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Fractal Fury" by Lawn Elf I saw a humming bird the other day. It surprised me. I hadn't seen one outside of California before.
This hummingbird was bigger than the ones I grew up with. Its colors weren't as vibrant and startling. It was more a mottled black with some green iridescence about its wings and sides.
It hovered about three feet in front of me. It was inspecting me.
I don't know if my nose was so sunburned that it wasn't certain that my nose wasn't some giant red flower. (Humming birds like red flowers.) Then I thought that maybe I was looking sort of mealy. Humming birds eat meal worms.
Once after a big santa ana winds I was out walking my dogs when I found a baby humming bird on the street. I assumed that the winds had blown it out of its nest. That happened a lot in my neighborhood. My rate on saving these birds was less than 50% but I'm not good at walking away from something in trouble.
I never tried to save a hummingbird before but . . . I tried my usual method: dry baby food mixed with milk and sugar. It wouldn't eat it. I ended up buying instant nectar, the stuff people put in humming bird feeders. That worked pretty well.
Pretty soon we had a tiny little red and blue humming bird flittering around the house. He annoyed my little female finch, another rescue bird who had refused to go back to the wild. The finch had decided that its natural habitat was a shirt pocket.
At three weeks the humming bird was about the size of two joints of my pinky. That seemed small. I took it to our vet, who had gotten used to the various exotic animals we bought into him. I then found out that the little bird probably had not been blown out of its nest. Its mother had probably dumped it. She had a birth defect. I didn't know that her legs weren't supposed to look like they did. I mean, who has ever seen a humming bird's feet?

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Hajime Sorayama I also found out I had to grind up meal worms to mix with her nectar. Protein. And pretty disgusting protein. Fortunately we had a disgusting mixer we used for other disgusting pet remedies so it was okay.
The little girl did fine. She even got to the point of teasing the dogs, an obvious rite of passage in my house. Any animal who lived with us eventually had to devise a way to torment the dogs, who were the dominant species in the house.
The cockatiel rejoiced in bathing in the dogs drinking water. The rabbits liked to pounce on the dogs when they were napping and then hide under the bed just out of the reach of tooth and claw. Even the finch enjoyed landing on their backs and steal wisps of fur so it could build its nest in my shirt pocket. The dogs, of course, bought all their complaints to me, so annoying the pups had the added benefit of making more work for me.
The humming bird just enjoyed buzzing around their heads until the dogs just had to snap at it, of course the humming bird had moved three inches to the left before they got there.
For the record, and records are very important to dogs, the dogs never hurt any of the animals in the house. They bore them easily and took the others intrusions as validation of their native superiority.
At about 6 weeks the humming bird was looking pretty fit. I took her into the vet and he operated on its feet. Its feet were very malformed so it couldn't grasp a perch or a stick. With some surgery we had hopes.
The little girl survived the operation. And after a week could sit on a
Click images for desktop size: "Lena Horne & Dean Martin" perch, although she still preferred sitting on top of my head the most. After another week I decided she could go back to the wild.
I took her out to Bronson Canyon and released her. She took a huge 50 yard arc, darting back and forth like a dragon fly on crystal meth. Then she made a screaming dive bomb and landed on my head wrapping her claws so tightly around my hair I couldn't pry her lose. She didn't loosen her grip until we got back in the car.
I thought maybe if I released her in the back yard she'd live outside happily, still close to the friends she'd grown up with. She wasn't having that either.
She only lived for about 18 months after that. She was too little and too messed up. I never really minded grinding up the meal worms. I did mind the meal worms though.

My puppy is an orphan now. Her mother passed away. Cancer. I only met her mother the one time but I liked her. She liked me too mainly because I'm very free with treats around dogs.

Click images for desktop size: "Green Forever" by Cyreuss It was from her mother that my puppy inherited her equipoise, her grace and her willingness to address her fears. She also got her stubbornness and determination from her. And beauty. You can't talk about this family without noticing their incredible beauty.
I met my puppy's mother in the company of one of the greatest dogs I've ever met, Uncle Hank. He was great because he was so happy being a dog. Even in his overwhelming happy company you had to notice the mom. All the dogs went to an abandoned dog park. My puppy, so tiny, jumped into a little pool there and was having a wonderful time keeping everyone else out of it!
After the adult dogs got bored pretending to be intimidated by my little puppy they went about their own games. My puppy bolted the pool and headed straight towards her mother. The mom turned on her and snapped at her fiercely, really yelled on my puppy. My puppy ran over and sat at my feet looking to her mom for approval.
The world is emptier for Reina's passing. I know its okay to grieve for the loss of a dog. I will be grieving for her and for my newly orphaned puppy.

Aside from watching the birds that are watching me my job hunt continues unabated. I thought I'd be working much sooner than this. Its still possible.
The doc's called. I did have a major heart attack caused by the Canadian jerks refusing to give me the proper meds. I survived it. The doc's still aren't certain why or how. Their was significant additional damage to my heart but not to the point of changing any of my meds or diet restrictions. I still don't like it but I've learned to cover my flinch reflex when they say its pretty miraculous that I'm still alive. I guess that's the only way people can congratulate you on surviving life. Doesn't seem like much of an accomplishment to me. All I did was not die. I didn't even realize that was an option.
The only real negative is that before it was possible I could heal my heart back to 100%. That doesn't appear to be an option anymore. But I'll wait on that call till they've done all the research.
The shoulder is still bad. I'm maybe being to gentle with it now. I got scared by the idea of
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by GBR "irreparable nerve damage."
They're trying to find me an orthopedist who'll see me in the program. I believe they're working hard at it.
I've been taking some criticism for not updating this site everyday. Its because I'm locked into an obsessive mode and hate being repetitive.
there's also the odd thing. It used to be that this site averaged 100 to 200 unique visitor a day. Cool by me. Since the prison story I've been averaging 50,000 a day. With 600 coming through the front door. On days with a new post it goes up to 80,000 and 1,000. This is just weird to me.
A part of it is the new fangled competition between google and bing I think. A lot more people squawking about graphics and stuff. But that only accounts for about 20% of the traffic.
I don't mind, I actually like people coming to look at the pictures but I don't really care about their critical comments which to me seem to be about nothing. Like I'm somehow obligated. Like they're paying me. They're not.
I don't understand the sudden continuing surge in traffic at all.

Posted by David at 3:35 PM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Twisted Mind Show" by Titusboy I have a pretty strong ego. The Canadian prison is designed to quickly and ruthlessly proclaim you to be a worthless piece of flotsam unfit for society and beneath contempt. That goes for the innocent and the guilty alike.
That doesn't work on me. I can't ever absorb as anything other than its a lie that anyone is better than me. I also encourage everyone else to feel that no one in the world is any better than they are. Instead it makes me think that the bastards in government who created and perpetuated this system are pretty pathetic individuals on a level with pedophiles and the cops and guards they hire as beneath contempt as any eunuch with a truncheon should be. (There are female eunuchs too . . . I think I dated a few.)
There are things that humble me, that make me feel small and insignificant. Walking without my puppy does that. Its a constant reminder of vulnerability. It feels like there's nothing in this life that can slake justified rage.
Today I walked to the store. I was slogging back with my bundles. My backpack on, crushing my shoulder badly. I was certain that the pain would be worse if I tried to move it or readjust it. The iPod was playing The Ronettes "Walking in the Rain". I paid attention to my heart. The heat feels unbearable to me. And then it started to rain. But the rain was hot. Not just warm but hot water, hot as a shower.
Steam roiled on the asphalt and made choking hot chemical clouds that the rush of cars pushed into my face. This was a pretty significant indictment even I couldn't ignore. It took me thirty minutes to walk home, less than two miles. the thermometer said it was already pushing 90. It wasn't 9 AM yet.
I consoled myself by putting my things away and thinking there's a chance my puppy and I will be
Click images for desktop size: "Sludge" by Peter Lovacs together in a couple of weeks. I don't want to get my hopes up too high. There's only so much dashing I have in me and only so much dashing of hopes I can absorb. Still a lot of planning to do.

On Wednesday I completed all the interviews to get into the Access program. They sent me down to cardiology on the spot. Just drew some blood. They wanted to inject some die into my blood but saw that I was on metformin for the diabetes and went another way.
I spoke to the cardiologist on the phone. He started to get on me because I hadn't seen a cardiologist since the heart attack. I told him I was in in a Canadian prison for two weeks and the doctors there didn't think it was necessary.
He got angry and said that the "worst hack who ever got a medical degree wouldn't do that. That's scandalous. Were they trying to kill you?"
I shrugged at the phone but couldn't think of anything to add to that. I don't know if he understood my silence but he changed his schedule around to see me ASAP. ASAP meant in only one week. He left me with the orders: If I have any heart pain or discomfort I'm to go to emergency immediately and have them beep him.
I liked his anger and intensity.
I kept trying to explain to anyone who seemed to be in charge of anything that I was more worried about seeing an orthopedist than a cardiologist. My shoulder hurts worse than my heart (at least my beating heart).

Click images for desktop size: "Morgan Freeman" Someone finally told me they'd send me a letter with an appointment. I only got the cardiologist so quickly because I'd been neglecting things . . .
Thursday I saw my GP. Things look better. My blood work sort of confirmed some things. My overall cholesterol is 76. The bad cholesterol that I was supposed to work on getting down below 50 (which I thought was impossible) is at 40. The good cholesterol is still too low at 28 but its not too much of an issue since my overall cholesterol is so low.
I asked about the physical stresses of coaching and if I'd be able to go back to it. She then asked if I was the coach with the black therapy dog. It turns out my doctor's husband is a wrestling coach at one of the conference high schools and my puppy being on the side lines during the big game against us was the thrill of that season. Then she told me about how all the nurses, who I was convinced hated me and my puppy, were in deep mourning when we left.
I figure we had to go away for them to realize that the two of us weren't so bad.
She told me some of the stories about my puppy and I. I was surprised that they were pretty much
Click images for desktop size: "Road from New Jersey" G Studios true and didn't have the need to get defensive about any of them.
One positive is that she'll talk to her husband about me coaching at his school . . . for pay. I have mixed feeling about that. I don't like the idea of taking money for working with kids but I need a job.
There's also the worry about whether I can physically withstand a season. Like I can see me running down the sidelines throwing my hands up over my head signaling a touch down jerking up in agony as my shoulder decided to rebel and the pain and embarrassment giving me a heart attack . . .
She thought that there were still things I could do with kids. She said that kids all loved me and talk about me and my puppy. (She didn't say in which order they talked about us which I thought was pretty diplomatic.)
Then the friend who's letting me stay at my house went on vacation. So I'm now house sitting for two weeks. Not really but it sounds better than leeching.
He's another one who's excited about the possibility of my puppy coming to me. He'll be instrumental in getting her back her if my complex plan unfolds . . . I don't have a plan. I just like to think I do.

I'm down to retail stores for job apps. I was going to even apply to Pizza Hut!! They require all employees have a driver's lisence and "Reliable Transportation (Not Public)". They claim its because you might have to make a bank deposit or an emergency delivery . . . but I figure the reality is they don't want anyone late claiming the bus broke down.
For every job I apply for I seem to get 5 spam emails and 3 scam phone calls, all offering me employment. One phone call said I could make thousands a month just by blogging . . .

Posted by David at 6:17 PM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Irises" by Sakai Doitsu Its amazing how still the air is. Not a hint of breeze. Smoke from the cigarettes goes straight up, tendrils without a wisp of character. The trees are silent, nothing moves. It feels like death might feel.
I haven't written anything the past few days. Nothing has happened that I need to remember.
I miss my puppy terribly. That's not going to change. It feels like she's been stolen from me, which isn't actually the case but it feels that way. It feels like a lot of what I am has been stolen from me. Its only my sadness that makes me feel this way.
When I run into someone I know they're fist question is, "How's your puppy?" That proves they actually know me. Several people I don't know have come up to me and asked after her. Some have tried to identify me as my puppy's "father". Then they ask where she is and how she is.
The adults will often tell me a story about how my puppy helped their child through a traumatic illness. Some tell me how my puppy helped them through their child's illness. They always tell me how beautiful and smart and devoted my puppy is.
They've built a dinosaur trail here. Its just an established path in the forest and they've hidden something like 20 fiberglass dinosaurs on the path for kids to discover and play on. It opens tomorrow. I got a formal invitation to take the inaugural walk with my puppy and some kids from the hospital. It would be fun for all.
Its possibly just as well we can't do it. My puppy would have enjoyed the walk but the kid have an image of her sometimes . . . especially around the dinosaurs. I fear they would have been disappointed in how she reacted to the big adventure, but possibly not.
I continue to be desperate for a job. Nearly broke. I going as intense as I can. Just churning away.
I had two interviews yesterday. One was a waste. It was a group interview . . . there were five of us. Three were high school girls. The job was weekend cashier at a chain drug store.

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Howard Schatz On the second I at least got a nice free lunch. I had wild mushroom ravioli. It was okay. This was a meeting with my old boss. It was nice enough and a pleasant couple of hours. Except on the work front they hired two people within the last two months.
Its not too nice having to hope for some one else's failure to have a chance at success. Way too Hollywood.
There's one unexpected result of using the internet for my job search. Not only d I get some pretty virulent spam offering me all sorts of scam type jobs I also get phone calls.
On Tuesday I applied on-line to a chain book store where I used to know some people. The on-line job app is their preference, I did all the tedious work.
I haven't heard from them but I got three phone calls. I'm on a pay-as-you-go mobile. The first few minutes of each conversation is with me trying to figure out who these people are. What job I applied for that they're calling me about. It takes a while to figure out that they saw my resume and want to offer me a fantastic opportunity . . .
One call was from a company that needed to verify my employment history. I asked which employer they were working for. They couldn't/wouldn't tell me. I decided not to cooperate with them. I said I'd gotten too many spams and scams to risk giving out my personal details to a stranger.
I hope that wasn't a mistake. The concern is just a reflection of how stressed I am.
I had to talk to this foundation after. They're the ones who will provide access to a volunteer cardiologist and orthopedist. It was an interesting phone interview. Te gist of it was to figure out if I was actually wealthy and scamming to get free health care. I did discover that all the jobs I'm applying for, well, the wages would still keep me below the national poverty level and keep me eligible for the program. Pretty solid mixed feelings about that.

Click images for desktop size: "Hiding Turtle" by Unknown I haven't had any real issues with my heart. Even with the sadness and the worry. No pain. I seem to just be aware of it.
The arm and shoulder on the other hand are a terrible nuisance. The pain stays at intolerable levels.
Yesterday I was in the bathroom when I heard the phone ring. I scrambled to answer it and rammed the bad shoulder into the door jam. I was mewling . . . it was electric fire blinding.
I didn't get to the phone in time. It took twenty minutes to recover. The arm was weak and useless. A new wrinkle has been the numbness of the pinky and ring fingers.
I was able to see who called and call back. Good thing. It was a job I'm seriously interested in. Interview Tuesday.
I'm sleeping better. I've discovered that I can build a sort of cast made of pillows around the arm and shoulder and that with some adjusting I can sleep almost pain free. This has served me the last two night so I'm sleeping nearly 5 hours a night!

Posted by David at 10:46 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Emily" by Jugeminias Missing my puppy badly.
I slept better last night. Discovered a plan that semi-worked. Involved a lot of propping with pillows and proper splaying. I slept for 3 hours straight through.
But dreamt of my puppy. On nights like this she'd tell me puppy jokes, watch over me and recommend a good snack. Being a doctor dog she'd know when to nuzzle me, when to play with me, take me outside, when to have me pet her.
I miss my puppy. Trying hard to not let my desperation for her turn into obsession.
Obsession almost always means you miss the obvious solutions in life.
I'm hoping that tomorrow starts to yield some results to my mad flurry of resume rending job searching. Its time for interviews and time for hoping.
I went to this store, Ross. They have plenty f cheap slacks. They sell Dockers for like eight bucks. I figure dockers are okay for some interviews. I begrudge spending the eight bucks.
I bought some used books yesterday. The trip was to drop off job apps. I got four books for nine dollars. Three of them will be interesting but hardly vital, the find was David Drake's "Killer".
"Killer," is a book I was thinking about months ago. Its a science fiction tale about a vicious killing machine monster that gets loose on earth. What makes this story compelling is that the earth its gone to war with is ancient Rome! And the monsters hunter is a former gladiator!
I'm into the first one hundred pages. The story drags a bit more than I remembered but its still fascinating. There's some effort made to show the life of free Romans. The history lesson is integrated well into the plot so it hardly feels like you're learning anything at all! Good stuff.

July 5, 2009

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We woke the next morning with heavy growing hearts. A border, an imaginary line meant we had to
Click images for desktop size: "Enhanced Canadian Wilderness" by James Davidson go our own ways.
The Days Inn provided a free breakfast. We decided to save some money and eat it. The breakfast was poor but could fill you up.
The worst part was a tray full of eggs cooked someway that they're all perfectly round. They are also nearly indestructible. Even though heaped on the plate none of their yolks showed any hint of breaking. I was afraid of them. They did not seem like food but more like the Japanese plastic sculptures of food the restaurants display.
To while away the time until checkout we walked and talked. We thought of strategies, of hopes and of plans. All bright optimistic stuff to avoid thinking of my departure time.
When we checked out we went looking for a bookstore, so I could get something to read on the long bus ride.
We went to Borders. My friend found a couple of cook books and a gluten free magazine she'd never before seen. I couldn't find anything. The prices for he titles were too high for my remote interest in them.
We then found a spectacular looking used book store but it was closed on the Sunday. We looked through the windows and regretted the day.
It seemed a nice place to sit and talk and attempt to say goodbye.

Click images for desktop size: "Divine Right" by Marvel We had lunch at this Irish style pub. I had a quesadilla . . . it was not good but better than I feared.
Following a last second "I need another bungi cord" panic we went to the bus station. We sat and waited. Talked.
There were two US Immigrations cop hanging around. Border Patrol this far from a border? My bus pulled in but we weren't allowed to board. The Border Patrol had to go in and harass the passengers. They pulled an Indian guy off the bus and were huge jerks. They made him get his luggage and they inspected everything in an incredibly arrogant fashion.
I got on the bus. My friend was in tears. I flashed all the ASL I knew at her. I don't know if she knew what I was saying. I kept flashing ASL even as the bus pulled out. When we got to the other side of the bus station my friend was out there. She waved. I waved back and watched her walk to her car. I wanted to tell her there's no sense in crying. No one was dead yet.
So two days out of prison, nearly 4 weeks from a heart attack and here I was on the dreaded
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Frank Mellech Greyhound. No chance to recover. No chance to breathe.
I had 16 hours to think about things.
I started thinking about the racist cop who started this ugly turn. I don't like cops. Its their insanity and their presumption I don't like. After they've been at it long enough they start to think that everyone is guilty and its only a matter of time till they have you under the lights burying their saps in your kidneys.
This Scott McVicar wasn't even unique. I'd noticed that the area cops were almost all of a freaky breed. They remind me of nothing more than the cops in "A Clockwork Orange". "Just jobs for two who are of job working age!"
They're thugs too cowardly to run with the gangs and the worst of them who find the gangs to tame for the sadistic hatred they carry in their souls.
The sick part is that they no longer make the cops wear uniforms, not consistent uniforms. They let them fuss and futz with their uniforms to the point that there is no longer any relief when you see a cop. McVicar wore no name tag - ever. He even obscured his badge. He fitted and tugged his uniform and wore so much extra unofficial gear he looked more like a manga character than a cop. He wasn't alone. The end result is they look like a manga inspired gang that gets to carry guns and openly hate.
I've never seen any police force in the world that allowed its cops to customize their uniforms to such an extent that the officers couldn't be readily identified. Not even in Africa around the equator. They want the police to be readily identified in an effort to stop trouble except in Canada where the by-word is to let the thugs keep the thugs in their place and who cares what they look like.
Suddenly squad car cops are allowed to do investigations. And a cop so stupid and ignorant he thinks everything he sees on the internet is true. And based on that I was thrown in prison. I was never fingerprinted, photographed nor DNA tested. They have no idea if I was even the guy in the story. But on the whim of a racist cop who thinks in sci-fi fantasy cop terms I was arrested and thrown in prison by K.W. (Ken) McMurtrie, an immigration cop who tried to glamorize his role by
Click images for desktop size: "Frankenstein" by Universal pretending that I was a dangerous arch fiend so he could justify his budget. Then when his speculative case fell apart he lied and tied to justify his heinous acts. He doesn't care about people. Just about his superiors reaming him about going over budget.
In my friends neighborhood there was a mini scandal. Some 25 year old kid walked up to an old man and punched the old man until he was dead. No one could understand it.
Now I do know what happened. He'd just been released from Maplehurst.
You can't take a young violent man, throw him in a ell, abuse and debase him through a constant, clearly administratively approved series of verbal, physical and psychological abuse. Reduce his self esteem to less than zero and then give him nothing but time. No encouragement, no chance to improve himself, just encourage his violence, set him up to commit institutionally approved violence against other inmates.
Are the people who set up this system illiterate? Haven't they bothered to read or even be aware of the last 60 years of penal work and reform.
MAXSEX (Maximum Security) is harsh. I've visited prisoners in MAXSEC in Europe and the USA. I was treated with respect. So were the prisoners. The sort of behavior exhibited by the guards at Maplehurst would not have been tolerated at any of those prisons if only because the type of prisoners in MAXSEC would think nothing of killing a guard ho was insulting and belittling and threatening, but also because everyone knows very few MAXSEC prisoners get life sentences. Most of them will be out on the street. In a true MAXSEC prisoners case every effort is made to attempt to rehabilitate him to avoid just spitting killers back onto the street. They succeed quite often. More than 70%.
The prisoners at Maplehurst are NOT MAXSEC! Shoplifters are not MAXSEC. They do not promote a danger to others around them. Guys on two year sentences for being drunk and disorderly are not MAXSEC.
Maplehurst makes no attempt at education or rehabilitation. They punish. The punish the innocent and the guilty equally. But what else they are doing is training killers. You could even produce an argument proving it is intentional.
It was in the 1930's that it was shown that the treatment of prisoners especially in modes such as practiced at Maplehurst increased a prisoners propensity to violence and that propensity stayed with the prisoner long after his incarceration had ended. Repeat offenders increased and the repeat offenses were noted for their escalating physical violence.

Click images for desktop size: "Forest" by Unknown The punishment administered at hell holes like Maplehurst punishes society far more than it punishes the prisoner.
We got nearer my stop. The bus was over crowded and it was making my shoulder crazy.
I knew instead of thinking of the injustice of the recent past I needed to start thinking about the future or I'd be in trouble.
All I could think about was my puppy.
But she's not here.
Maybe she never will be again.
I refuse to accept that I deserve anymore punishment. I rebel.

Posted by David at 4:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Alone in the World" by Unknown Feeling worn down today. Been sort of off the past three days. Sick, flu like off.
I think it has to do with my body re-adapting to the meds that the prison medical care, (the finest available according to some idiots with agendas). My illness corresponds pretty exactly with the side effects of one of the heart attack drugs.
Good news is that Reina, my puppy's mom, is doing some better. Her gums are pink and she's livelier. The results of her blood test should come out today. I keep worried and hoping.
I'm worried also about getting my puppy home to me. Less than a thousand miles away but I'm bewildered. I miss her and it causes me pain. I hope she's different and not stressing.
I'm still job hunting. The only positive note so far is that my old boss wants to meet with me next week. One can only hope is the thing.
There were no new ads in the paper today or on any of the job sites I keep checking. I don't want this to let me down.

I've gotten a few emails wondering if I approve of the way the Canadian prison system runs. I guess because I'm just trying to relate facts and avoid editorial opinion it could lead people to wonder. Also that I find the facts so abhorrent that I presume anyone else would too.
The system I experienced is insane. For people with mental illness to be housed with convicts and people on remand is wrong. A civilized society would not accept it.
The MAXSEC (maximum security) system might have a purpose but to use it on shop lifters and immigration detainees is insane, cruel and vicious. Agin, no civilized society would tolerate it.
To use that onerous system for people on remand, people who are not guilty of anything is sick and beyond unfortunate.
To take a violent young man and to dump him in this system for 18 months and deprive him of a
Click images for desktop size: "Ava Gardner" chance to educate himself is sick and dangerous.
This mid twenties offender is on the dole, broke and bored he seeks release in drugs and alcohol. He gets violent and causes great distress. Now putting him in a place run by a corrupt authority and the guards are corrupt in my experience, an authority that derides, dehumanizes and insults at every opportunity is merely creating monsters that will reenter the fringes of society and reek and experienced hate filled havoc on society in general. THe havoc will be fueled in ignorant violence, the education given in a Maplehurst is to hone and improve the violence, to make it more devastating, permanent and overwhelming.
What rational being would expect different.
I've worked with young people who were already so marked by the system. They were hate filled, rage fueled and already written off. The game I teach and that I love taught these young men self respect, self worth. It gave them a place in society and once having a place they wanted to improve themselves and in improving themselves they sought and did improve society as a whole. They became politicians, professors, cops, firemen and happy working stiffs.
If the violent offender on the dole is taught a trade that he can excel at, where he can earn money to improve his life so he can afford to meet and associate with people who have similar goals to his; to be happy.
Letting an inmate read lets heir minds open to possibilities that might never have occurred to them. Allowing them to use their time to benefit themselves rather than to use the time pursuing violence and cultivating and nurturing the hatred that must well inside of them . . .
The best way to stomp out crime is education and hope. The best way to worsen and promote crime is via unjust punishment and the reduction of humanity.
Who doesn't know this? Who hasn't seen this proved out time and time again?
  
July 1, 2009

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Today was Canada day.
We were expecting lock down. On many holidays or even just very nice days enough guards would call in "sick" that the warders would decide they had insufficient staff and order a lock down.
Its amazing how much even an hour out of your cell can be missed.
To everyone's relief there wasn't a lock down. I was relieved as well as I expected my friend to visit so we could have our 20 minutes to discuss what had happened yesterday at my kangaroo court hearing.
I got yard. There was this guy I didn't know who kept eyeing me. I always spent the first 10 minutes of yard running wind sprints and every time I reached the wall and turned around I saw him staring at me.

Click images for desktop size: "Benny Goodman" Hosia, the Yardie, came over and warned me that the fellow checking me out was shanked. A shank is just a home made knife. They make a big deal about not permitting shanks at Maplehurst. We get toothbrushes with one inch handles, rubber spoons.
A shank is just a hunk of something that a hunk of metal can be tied to. There's plenty of concrete walls to use as whetstones to sharpen the hunk of metal into a stabbing weapon. If your patient enough it can become a slashing weapon as well, but that's harder to make.
With all their dehumanizing fussiness there's plenty of stuff around to make a shank.
When I finished running this guy came up o me and started to run at me. He lunged. I was lucky enough to turn aside. He fell and broke his wrist. His shank skittered on the concrete and I kicked it into the grated storm sewer.
While they were helping the guy out of the yard the rest of us were checking out the sewer. It was thick with cigarette butts and roaches (marijuana butts). When I'd come back late from getting my insulin shot most of the guards were unaware that any prisoners were roaming about. More than once I caught a couple of guards out in the yard passing a joint back and forth.

Click images for desktop size: "Artagatis" by Mortalitas Yard got extended a tiny bit because of the fellow's accident. We enjoyed that.
Back in my cell I tried to wait calmly. I really hoped my friend would show up and we could talk and plan and think about where to go with all this.
She never came.
Later I found out that she'd been downstairs waiting to visit. They kept her waiting for six hours before they could figure out that there were too many holiday visitors to get everyone in. knowing the guilty or the innocent makes you guilty in the limited guard mind. They treat visitors only slightly better than they treat prisoners.
I didn't know. I could only feel abandoned.
Even my muskrat didn't show up on his daily rounds. I worried for him.
That night when I did my blood sugars they were 6.8. The nurse proclaimed that was perfect. I was surly enough to say that I hadn't eaten in two days so that number was exceedingly high.
The nurse shuffled and said, I'm writing in perfect anyway."

Posted by David at 6:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Click images for desktop size: "Steel and Brass Cowards" by Unknown Not a good day yesterday.
Reina, my puppy's mom, dam, has cancer. She looked to be doing well with her chemo but this weekend she took a bad turn. Sunday she seemed better.
Today Reina will get a blood work up. Last time she had too many white cells and too man immature red cells. Hoping for the best for her. She gave my puppy all of her best traits. It would be sad and near devastating to have her leave.
It made me terribly sad and thinking I'll never see my puppy again.
I had to go to hospital. Two nitro pills and you got to go. They did an EKG. They believe my heart has worsened. With all its been through how could it not.
The arm is getting worse and worse. The pain more biting and the use of it almost nonexistent. Its not going to help n my job hunt, that's for sure.
I've not been able to sleep more than 2 hours at a stretch before it starts to bite me. It is annoying.
I filled out a lot of on-line job apps. It was tedious and repetitive. Much simpler to attach a resume, I think. No job looked golden but I have to try. And now its pouring rain.

June 30, 2009

---

It was a rough morning.
Late last night I was told I had a visitor. I was stoked thinking my friend had shown up to tell me everything was in place and that the lawyer figured I was going to walk home.
When I got to the visiting room I was not put in one of the little glass walled rooms. I was in a
Click images for desktop size: "Women of Blue" by Evegney narrow corridor surrounded by three menacing guards.
A woman in an expensive looking peasant blouse and jeans came in waving a sheet of paper. She demanded I sign.
I asked, "What is it?"
She said, "Just sign it or you'll be sitting here for a year at least."
"Who are you?"
"I'm from immigration," she said, "this is an agreement for you to waive your right to a hearing. Just sign it."
The guards stated to chime in, with a solid jab in my ribs one yelled at me, "Sign the f___ing thing. I got better things to do."
"I need legal advice here. I want to consult a lawyer,: I said.
A poke in the stomach accompanied, "I got your f___ing lawyer a__hole."
It was apparent why this meeting was disguised as a "visit" and why it was happening in this tiny area. I figured that they'd finally gotten the police report back and were trying to save face.
"Look, what's the big deal. I've got the Detention Hearing tomorrow. Lets see what happens there. What's the difference if I sign it now or tomorrow. I mean, why would I waive my rights anyway?"
"Cause you ain't got no rights motherf___er. Your ass belongs to us," one of the guards explained.
The woman said, "This is a one time take it or leave it offer. We could fix it so you spend the rest of your life here."
"Without lawyer to advise me I'll have to pass. Look what's to stop
Click images for desktop size: "Johnny Cash" you guys from coming in the middle of the night and just dumping me over the border without my money or my property. Where's my assurances? I'll wait for the Hearing."
One of the guards made as if to really wallop me but he backed off. I was lead back to my cell with a lot of barking at my heels. I didn't listen to it. I was too wrapped up in thinking about why I was constantly denied legal advice, whether I'd made the right decision, and mainly, why hadn't my friend shown up to tell me what was in place.
I barely slept. The pain in my heart and in my arm kept me awake enough to fret. I listened to the screaming man and wondered if his incomprehensible shouting would ever fall into a lulling rhythm.
The next morning I was wrapped in uncool anxiety. Aside from the tension of my waiting the guards had enough of the screaming man. I watched six of them strap on their loaded gloves (black leather filled with powdered lead to make an invisible black jack-one mistakenly grabbed me by the shoulder once while wearing his. The pressure and weight compensated mightily for any lack of
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Al Moore skill.)
There was no news then the guards filed out. Then there came the stretcher and the old guy was finally quiet.
I got to take a shower. I noticed that the hemorrhaging on my leg ha cleared up. It wasn't gone but it wasn't violently black any more. For the most part the leg looked normal.
I wasn't allowed to shave. No razors. I worried about my appearance in front of the hearing.
Then there was just more waiting.
And more waiting.
Finally the guard came and told me my hearing was happening now. I was steeled. I thought , "Hope for the best but expect less." I think Fritz Perl wrote that or maybe it was Milton Berle.
I hoped to walk into the hearing room/linch room and find my friend and a razor sharp attorney. I braced myself for no lawyer but my friend being there to give evidence and the real scenario I played in my head was me walking in there alone.
It wasn't a cynical thought process. It was merely reality.
I walked into the room and was surprised that there were two women there I'd never seen before. I assumed I'd keep the same prosecutor and judge. There was no one else there.
I was glad I'd played all three scenarios through in my head. The judge started the proceedings by turning on the tape recorder.
I said that I wasn't quite prepared. I'd been expecting a lawyer as well as a witness who would give evidence proving that the core evidence presented by the prosecutor was in fact false.
The judge looked flustered. The prosecutor said that there was no lawyer present for me. She said that my friend had appeared (she laboriously looked for her name in a sheaf of papers and still mispronounced her pretty simple name.)
I asked why my friend wasn't here to give her evidence and to offer bail to the court. Yeah, I was being very eloquent, using up my many hours of watching Jack McCoy.
"I spoke to your friend for nearly 30 minutes. She confirmed all that we have presented. Including her original call to the police and the fact she has had several conversations with Officer McVicar
Click images for desktop size: "Alice 19th" by Usagi since that incident. She did offer to post a nominal bail," the prosecutor said rapidly.
"How was my friend? Did she look alright? You didn't leave her upset did you?"
Flustered the prosecutor said, "no. She was perfectly fine!"
"Well, I maintain that my friends evidence is being either misinterpreted or being incorrectly presented. It seems shocking that she would not be allowed to be here to present the evidence herself."
"She confirmed everything!" the prosecutor interrupted.
"If she confirms all the facts of your case it seems you'd want her here to do the confirmation,"
I got thrown for a little bit of a loop when the prosecutor delineated the charges for deportation. It was no longer as being an unfit character. It was for being "Allowed to leave".
I didn't quite grasp this and no one was going to explain it to me. Quickly I was able to figure out that the first time I entered Canada my Drivers License picture was smeared. They sent me back to get other ID. That was it.
I pointed out that I'd been back in Canada several times. At least twice for Immigration demands to visit Canadian doctors and the ilk.
I have to admit it was clever of them, if more than a bit nasty to change horses in mid-stream like that. How could anyone prepare for charges that they didn't know existed.
Then there was a strange gaff. She claimed that I had signed the waiver. When I insisted I had not in the face of much pressure from physical intimidation she backed off slightly.
I then went into my argument about my health. I quoted Bob Moriarity, the recentness of my heart attack, the improper dispensation of my life giving medicines and the total inappropriateness of this local for "Allowed to leave" transgressions. I then pointed out the questionable actions of the prosecutor to send away a witness and offering up only here say evidence. I said my witness could also address the "Allowed to leave" charges as well as the original charges.
I ended by saying that due to my health and its continuing degradation due to the insufficient care available at a MAXSEC prison I should be granted bail. That I had never been shown to have violated any bail conditions and that it was my fervent hope to be able to return to the USA.
Before the judge could give her decision we were told we had to break for lunch . . .
I was lead back to my cell. There was a fight or something going on in block 8. All the UCF wannabee guards were chuffed and shouting they weren't going to miss this one as they ran off to get into the fracas.
In my cell I evaluated.
I was glad my friend showed up. Chagrined by the "evidence" the prosecutor had presented as being from her. I decided the prosecutor was likely lying. I tried to read the judge. I decided that even
Click images for desktop size: "Alice 7" by Vlad Studios though I'd presented a strong case she was going to search for reasons to disallow the bail. She never looked at me when I spoke but always looked at the prosecutor. She also had the freakiest ass I'd ever seen on a human being. It was like someone stuck a pillow in her pants. Her rear end extended four inches beyond her hips on each side.
After a tedious two hour wait we went back to the lunch room. As I figured the judge decided I should remain in jail. Some of her statements were alarming. She concluded that the health care in Maplehurst was the finest available!! Then she concluded that, and I will never understand this, that a cash bail was insufficient for me. That my friend did not have enough influence over me to insure I would show up for hearings. And that she believed that to avoid deportation I would flee into Canada . . . RAH!
After the prosecutor allowed me to sign my one chance only waiver. She insured me that I would get a minimum of 48 hours notice before they would remove me and that my friend, as my common law wife would receive the same notice so she could bring me clothing and money.
Never trust the government. Any government. They are all liars. You always need a good lawyer. You have to trust someone even when its someone it looks like you shouldn't. I've always believed that but I never imagined how right I could be.
I waited for my friend to show up that evening so I could tell her what happened. She never did.

Posted by David at 4:06 PM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Irises" by Vincent Van Gogh Woke up in screaming pain from my shoulder. Very bad.
I see the doc's today at 3:30. I hope they have some sort of miracle pill to calm this thing down.
I'm far from impressed with the miracle of Lantus insulin. I thought it was starting to kick in. I got hypoglycemic trembles. Had to eat the glucose tablets to get them to stop, but it appears it was more from me not eating anything for 12 hours than the drugs.
Here's to today.

Football last night. It was good for me. It wasn't good in general but it was far from the worst session I've ever been involved in. The organizers' hearts are in the right place they just don't have the skills to pull it off.
The Equipment Manager and the Team Manager are stellar.
Saw 118 kids yesterday. No stud athletes. That's no big deal. They were kids. Some showed potential. Potential is all that they need right now. In general the kids seemed eager to learn, eager to play they just have no clue as to how.
I ran the agility section with the 6 inch agility hurdles. This is one of my and a lot of other coaches favorite sets of drills. We used to run these drills with "step over bags" which were about the same height as the hurdles and about six inches broad. One of the evolutions in sports science is how even this small thing has changed.
Originally the step over bags were about 12 inches high. The point then was getting the players to get their knees high, like stepping over arm tackles and flying bodies. Gradually it dawned on us that getting the knees high slowed the player down, it was not efficient use of kinetic energy. The step over bags got shorter and shorter. Virginia Tech was then using one inch plywood, eight inches wide and five feet long, as step over bags, getting the placement of the player's feet and legs while letting their knees and feet stay low and
Click images for desktop size: "Indomitable" by Unknown flowing to the motion instead of chopping against the motion. And now we accomplish the same thing with little plastic hurdles.
Part of me resists the change over. There are certain elements I think need the five foot long bags to properly implement. Since they don't have any step over bags and as raw as these kids are my normal concerns about finding a replacement drill aren't needed here.
I started with the "Bunny Hop". Six hurdles, 1 yard apart. The kids are supposed to keep their feet together and hop over each hurdle, one hop per hurdle. I had intended this as just a warm up and not part of the evaluation. Two thirds of the kids could not keep their feet together at all. One third could not clear each hurdle with one hop per hurdle. About 10% faded out and couldn't complete the drill.
They wanted to grade three drills. The single step, where the kids run through the hurdles taking one step to clear each one, come to the end, turn left, explode forward five yards turn left again and run through a second set of hurtles.
Then there was the side step, same drill basically.
The final drill were the in and outs. Just a weave going forward, side step, then backwards. What I look for are eyes, good football stance and good arm motion.
In West Texas and California high school ball 95% of the kids would have been given a 1. I gave most of them 3's. I only graded three kids as 1's and 4 kids as 4's. No 5's. I figured I should use a bell curve and not a rigid standard.

Click images for desktop size: "Gloria Swanson" Even the experienced kids kept their eyes on the ground trying to watch their feet, had no arm movement and no sense of precision. I tried to give them visualizations of what they were doing and why. They liked that. I gave the 4's more based on effort than skill. I like effort.
My friend ended up not working with me. She had to start and do the 10 yard time on the 40's. During a water break I glanced at her sheet. I was impressed I saw a few 5's and several 4's! Kids hitting 4 seconds in the 40's make my heart glow. Until I realized I was looking at the wrong column and the 4's and 5's were the 20 yard times!
Watching a few of them run it was apparent they all needed just some fundamental work. With times like that I can get some massive miraculous seeming improvement. I think the kids will work hard enough to accomplish that.
Since most of you know that my coaching technique involves trotting along the athlete and encouraging and exhorting I realized I trotted about two miles yesterday! I was pretty shattered
Click images for desktop size: "Hug Me Forever" by Jana Jelovac after practice. But it felt good.
We have to go again on Thursday. I'm going to push to take over my friends job and run the 40's. The kids clearly need some coaching there. That was my biggest surprise. I didn't hear any coaching, just instructions.
Oh, after practice we stopped and bought whistles! Just regular whistles. I still like loopy ones but that could terrify the parents.
That was the oddest part of the day for me, the 200 or so parents who just sat in lawn chairs on the side lines. I still don't quite know what to make of that.

New foster dog has decided he likes us. He spent much less time humping foster dog and more time hanging out with me and my friend. Yesterday he had no accidents in the house.
He was crated for about 4 hours while we were at practice. I hung out outside for 10 minutes before we left. There was no evidence of the bad behavior his previous fosters experienced.
New foster is a good little dog. He wants to be loved. Boy, does he not know anything! I think as he gets a bit calmer, he'll learn.
Foster dog has two more applications! No word on whether they are acceptable. Foster dog is pretty special. He's struggling to learn, struggling to find out how to fit in. He's a pretty great guy.
I took the Original Trio, gentle dog, my puppy and giant dog, on a walk with just the three of us. They needed the reassurance. My puppy not so much. She;s been through all these fostering things before. She stays steady. Gentle dog needed reassurance that he's still special the most, even more than giant dog who is is very insecure and jealous.
My friend bought me a new hard drive! A 500 gig Western Digital.
I'm not looking forward to installing it. The iMac case is NOT user friendly. There's so much tape and putty etc that it can get pretty overwhelming. Too many tight gentle windings to break, too many glues to distort.

Click images for desktop size: "Ella Fitzgerald" by Bernardine I did it before. I'm going to check around and see if I can get someone to instal the drive for 50 bucks or so. I figure 50 is about how much my fear is worth.
I feel oddly reluctant to let the computer out of my hands.
No issues from the "lost" files. I'm hoping it was just cache files or something.
I'm worried that I've loaded all these responsibilities on my friend, football practice, vets and doctors when she got hit with some ridiculous deadlines at work yesterday. I have to think of something reasonable so she can get her business and recreation done while I handle myself better.
I mowed half the yard yesterday. Not much of a contribution to her ease of mind.

Posted by David at 4:38 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Her Blue Eyes" by Unknown Pain in my shoulder woke me at 4, again. Last night I updated some of the Apple software. The QuickTime update required a reboot. I hate rebooting. Now I can hate it with even more purpose.
The restart began and then the computer turned itself off. Did that twice more.
I rebooted in single user mode (command line stuff) and ran a disk repair (fsck). The disk was unrepairable. The binary tree catalog had become corrupt. That's the entire file system . . .
I'd gotten lazy and hadn't done a full back up since Sunday. I was able to boot from my back up. 2 and 1/2 hours later DiskWarrior was able to repair the problem. At least for now.
I guess I'm going to have to start doing twice daily back-ups until I can find a replacement drive I can afford. DiskWarrior reported that I've lost 36 folders and 18 files . . . I don't know what they were. A quick visual scan doesn't show anything terrible. Maybe I got lucky and it was some cache files or something.
I replaced the drive in the iMac almost 3 years ago. A Seagate Barracuda. It was a terrible job. One I'm not looking forward to attempting again. What choice do I have? Last time I broke the DVD drive. Maybe I can fix that or replace it.
Working on the iMac is worse than working on a notebook.
If I suddenly cyber-vanish, well, you know why.
I remain grateful for IMAP. No fear of losing any emails, at least. Even when I don't answer them I like to have them.

Yesterday was strangely busy. Five dogs had a lot to do with that. Five dogs and thunderstorms.
My friend got to come home early, she got to work from home. Her MacBook running Parallels is doing studly duty, I think.

Click images for desktop size: "Modern Woman" by Unknown We had a good discussion about the football tryouts this evening. I was just pulling out of my zombie state, where I'm resisting passing out. I hate naps.
My friend sometimes resists discussions. I think she sees them as arguments and with my propensity for going ballistic I worry that I engendered that. She was at one of the meetings about the tryouts.
At the meeting I heard, "The coaches won't do anything but observe and evaluate the players."
She heard, "The coaches will be assigned drills to run so best come prepared to work."
Pretty contrary.
Somewhere in there she said, "You don't approve of any coaches except the ones you trained." I could immediately think of at least a half dozen coaches I worked for who I liked and also thought were pretty good, better than me in most ways.
The end result of the conversation was positive for me. It reminded me of a truism that I have always held but in the middle of the volunteer coaches I know it is easy to forget.
The main point of sport at this age and this level is to help the athletes to be better people not just on the field but in society, in their neighborhoods.
No person is really capable of teaching that sort of skill. But it can be taught. A coaches job is to train the athlete to be the best that he can be. The real beauty of football is that its teaches more than
Click images for desktop size: "Doris Day" I ever could.
My aphorism has always been, "I teach them how to play the game. The game teaches them about life."
All men are, by instinct, competitive. For me to be successful as a coach, and I think I have been successful, it is important I rise above my animal instincts and not get sucked into who's better, best.
Working with pros I never had an issue knowing that. Amateurs, volunteers who are giving freely and deserve love and respect for their efforts made me forget that, if only just a little bit.
Remembering that changes my attitude greatly. Remembering my place in the great scheme of my goals is important. Even though I made my friend uncomfortable the conversation was important to me for that and several other reasons.

The five dogs . . . oh boy. New foster and foster dog are tight buddies. Even if it involves a lot of humping. They are both doing better and better each day. New foster still gets too nervous but he's starting to laugh and smile. When my friend or I upset him he now goes to look for one of us to protect him from the other!
He's not housebroken and had another accident, urinating in the exact same spot! I need to buy a
Click images for desktop size: "Geisha Dream" by TitusBoy newspaper so I can cover that spot.
We had another small incident. Giant dog is incredibly jealous, He attacked, not viciously, the new foster. The little guy ran and hid under a chair but let my friend coax him out. Just too many dogs and giant dog doesn't like us talking so much to the new guys.
Foster dog has had some intrest from forever homes. One was rejected out right. They'd adopted and returned two animals previously. The other two are lets wait and see right now. The new foster has a woman willing to wait for him until we can see how he really is.
My friend points out that with 5 dogs we cannot do a proper assessment as to how he'd do on his own with just him and a person.

I watched a terrible movie yesterday. A BBC documentary. In this country we have a strange idea of the BBC. I've disliked them and continue you do so. The doc was "The Rock and Roll Singer."
It claimed to be an impressionistic view of a rock & roll tour from 1969. It was impressionistic becasue it had no point of view, no story to tell, and no skill in resolving it.
Still the 45 minute film was fantastic becasue the rock & roll singer was Gene Vincent. It was his tour with The Wild Angels" as his back up band.
Even inept filmmaking couldn't conceal the man's genius, his talent as a musicain as he rehearsed with the band. His insanity and his charm.
Although he was 34 at the time of the tour he looked well over fifty. He'd be dead in two years, dead from excess. There are five live numbers in the film, shot with a static single camera. That;s all he needed. When Vincent sang he collapsed the world in on itself.
The only effective filmmaking was a couple of pointless moments of Vincent walking around London, dragging his crippled leg around his corpulent body looking sadly at the world. Then there were the
Click images for desktop size: "Advocation" by Unknown moments after the show where he had to fret over getting paid. He was worried about himself but there was also the worry about getting the band paid that seemed pre-emminent.
Even when they attempted to provoke and in each spontaneous moment there was no scandal, nothing to uglify, all there was is a drunken, sad man who still held close to the idea of being a Southern Gentleman in all things.
Gene Vincent. Even talentless hacks can make art when you have a demi-god to point your camera at, a demi-god who was also so very mortal and so little different from you or me.

Posted by David at 8:16 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Experiments Gone Wild" by Unknown Five dogs is too many dogs!
At least it seems that way today. Chances are that after a week or so it might very well change.
The new foster is a pathetic story. His story bears constant repeating. He's three years old; has no training whatsoever, not even housebroken. His front teeth have been knocked out. I've no concept of why or the method used. He has worms and it appears to be long term and never treated previously.
He lived with another dog. The owner of the pair went to court and was told to get rid of the dogs or face jail time. (We're not allowed to know what he was arrested and tried for. I understand that even scum must be protected even when it frustrates me.) He took the dogs to the pound and gave them instructions to kill them. They
Click images for desktop size: "Keith Richards" were on 24 hour death watch when they were rescued.
The new foster was with another experienced foster family and for some reason he was destructive there. They couldn't cope with him. So he ended up here.
At first he was pretty crazy.
He's been recently neutered but still tried to hump every dog in the place. Our three told him off pretty quickly, since he's about half the size of the smallest here the new foster had enough sense to back off. Except that foster dog, also recently neutered, doesn't seem at all concerned. New foster humps him constantly. Foster dog just goes about his business with this little dog humping whatever part of him he can latch on to.
Its a bit annoying but oddly seems to have calmed both fosters down immeasurably! Strangely my memories from adolescence don't consider dry humping as much of a relief . . . It works for them.
New foster has had two "accidents" in the house. I think they weren't accidents. I think he did it on purpose. He defecated within the first 20 minutes in the house. Last night he urinated by the book case.

Click images for desktop size: "Elements-Fire" by LawnElf He's been very good other than that. He's accepted being crated at night. My friend thinks he's a Pariah dog mixed with Basenji. There's no reason to dispute this, although I think the breed name is unfortunate. He certainly vocalizes like a Basenji, no barking but lots of odd little vocalizations.
He won't let his picture be taken. Dog myth about his soul being stolen? He eats more than the giant dog!
Today is going to be stormy. Beau coup thunder and lightening. We'll see how it goes.
He's a cute dog ad incredibly good natured. Stubborn about his dislikes but no real problems.
Today I have to schedule an appointment with the vet for both foster dogs. Foster dog for booster vaccines and heart worm meds. The new foster for worming (fecal sample!! yuk . . . )
They both need baths. I'm not sure if I have the strength for that.
My arms are killing me. I find it monotonous. On Saturday I was making the bed and flipped the duvet. It locked my arm up. I couldn't move it for twenty minutes.
A couple of years ago I accepted the new pains and took some pride in being able to survive and assimilate them. But now the hurt just makes me weary. My doctor appointment is on Weds. I'm hoping that there is some sort of reasonably quick treatment available.
I'm getting better at suddenly becoming left handed but if I lose my concentration and use my right hand for almost anything I pay too severe a price.
I have other fears about the doctor this trip. I don't think the Lantus (insulin) is working. I think that they're going to try me on a different type of insulin.
Two hours after eating a kiwi my blood sugars were 15.8! I had nothing else to eat after that and my blood sugars were down to 9.1. This is not good.
This morning they were at 8.3. They should be around 4. I was getting very similar results with just the pills. I'm up to 27 units of insulin. Starting to push the envelope. When they started me on metformin I had to get up to the maximum allowable dosage before I started to see results.
I've finally adjusted to the side effects of the Lantus. The trembling in the morning is gone, as is
Click images for desktop size: "Fallout 3" by Unknown most of the nausea and the extra hand cramping. Its a bit discouraging to have to imagine going to another type of insulin and additional side effects.
For some reason, maybe medical, I had it in my head that player tryouts were on Saturday. They're tomorrow and Thursday. Over 350 kids to look at and evaluate. At least I'm primarily an observer and won't have to run any of the drills or do much instructing. I have to get together the pad so my assistant (actually my friend) will know what I want and need recorded. I'll probably keep my little scraps of paper going to insure that I get all the data I can.
A lot of the drills will be worthless, I'm certain. For some reason my fellow coaches want to make sure that there are "fun" drills in the package. I think they underestimate the young athletes. The fun they'll have is in testing their limits, comparing themselves to their teammates, not doing "fun" drills that accomplish little for them or in terms of evaluation.
From what I've seen I expect that some of the drills will be run incorrectly which will also make them rubbish. I worry about being judgmental but then I remember that six of the coaches I trained went on to coach professionally. One in the Div III championship game. I think I've paid the price to believe I have a glimmer of what things should be done.
I don't want to be judgmental. These guys aren't professional coaches. I suspect I'm the only one with a degree in physical education. For some of their swagger its also obvious that I've had more experience and success than the rest of the coaches combined. I admire that they're willing to work with the kids, that they have the drive and willingness to do the job. I know the rewards that come from coaching. They're huge. But they are not the sort of rewards that appeal to just anyone.
They deserve respect and have earned the right to be proud of what they're doing. I'll remember that even if I think they're being dumb.
Most of you know that I am capable of a dumbness greater and more profound that it is reserved only for the well meaning and the oblivious.
I'm going to wrap my shoulder and arm, maybe even wear some sort of sling. I don't think me rolling on the ground cursing in unintelligible grunts and groans will do much for my image with the kids.

Posted by David at 7:23 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Division" by Robert Randtoul I was feeling somewhat better. Up at 4:00. Just over 3 hours of sleep but no where as bad as I've been feeling until . . .
I set my pills out. One of them started to roll off the table. Without thinking I caught it. Wish I hadn't. The quick move made me see black. Vision back in just a few seconds but the pain doubled me up for nearly 15 minutes. Still feel it 40 minutes later.
The deep nausea is much better this morning. Maybe I'm getting used to the insulin. Its not doing me much good as far as I can see. The injections still hurt. It makes me feel edgy right afterwards. I went to sleep with a good blood sugar count of 7.0 and woke up with a 12.4! Stupid body. Stupid pain.

Were getting a new foster dog today. An emergency placement. The dog was surrendered by the owner with another dog. It was one of those things, "Surrender the dogs or face jail time". So you can tell the guy has had a nice three years so far. He was going to be put down. Clearly fair. His abusive owner avoids jail time but the dog gets the death penalty. That's justice. Clearly being victimized was the dogs fault.
His front teeth have been knocked out. He's not housebroken. He's not crate trained. He has bad separation anxiety. I don't see much there that justifies the death penalty. Five dogs in a tiny house bothers me just a little. My flailing health and dealing with two fosters bothers me just a little bit more.
Looking ahead next weekend we'll be gone most of the day. My football teams "evaluation". I hope that a week with us will get the new foster enough time to know he's safe here and that we can be gone without him panicking.


Click images for desktop size: "Elegance" by Richard Mohler I am totally bugged by Obama. With all of the rhetoric he's going totally 19th century when it comes to consumer rights. And he's showing a deep hatred for the handicapped. I thought he was avoiding the sickening presence of lobbyists? It was one of his big promises, wasn't it?
There's the International Copyright Treaty convention going on. The Obama administration has presented an opposition to the treaty. He opposes books for the blind and for the handicapped. You know, people with no arms, people paralyzed from the neck down. Obama is sickened that these slackers have been getting a free ride at the expense of poor down trodden publishers. You know those poor publisher guys who need to park their Escalades in the Handicapped parking spaces at the grocery store.
The RIAA, MPAA and the publishing lobbyists are recorded as having open access to Obama. They decided that the Handicapped have had it their own way too long. No more free books in braille, no more handmade books on tape. The handicapped, according to Obama, have got to start pulling their own weight around here. I guess he figures they're handicapped, what right do the handicapped have to be informed or educated. They should just stay inside in the dark and out of sight.
This is the most repellant thing imaginable. The only reason for their opposition, at least the argument they presented to the conference was the verbatim page from the copyright lobbyists website, so you know Obama is watching out for us and not being unduly influenced.
Revolting.
More revolting is that come election day no one will remember this gross cruelty. No one cares much now. Its only the lost, the powerless, the disenfranchised. And that we will allow them to be exploited and forced into the shadows, deprived of basic human rights is revolting. It's not a country I can be proud of.

Posted by David at 7:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Click images for desktop size: "Californian Farm Sunset" by 0videoman I don't think its a good sign that I'm waking up feeling worse than when I went to sleep. It all feels so contrarian. Like a nap should cure a head ache or an upset stomach. Shouldn't it.
I'm feeling rotten. Worse than I've felt in years. No where near as bad as the first chemo but remarkably bad all the same. Hands all cramped up, stomach twirling, eyes struggling to focus through the head ache and my skin feels hot and clammy at the same time.
What a mess I've become.
Most of this was predicted as side effects to starting insulin. They're supposed to go away. I'm up to 25 units a day now with no stabilization in the offing. It bothers me that I was getting similar blood sugar numbers with just the pills and vigorous exercise. To have the expense and the discomfort as well as the psychological numbness from having to do the injections and not see any radical bim bam improvement is disheartening. This wretched feeling only adds to the malaise.
I've been using hot moist heat on my shoulders and elbow. It doesn't do anything to relieve the neuropathic pain but it does loosen up the other muscles that were clenched tight. It provides minimal relieve but minimal seems like a lot right now.
I looked it up and 25 units of insulin is equal to about one third of a milligram. I'm clearly astonished that I carry around a big old gland like a pancreas and all it does for all the care I give it is to produce about one third of a milligram of insulin a day. Its even more distressing to accept that I'm so vulnerable that a drug about the size and weight of a snow flake or half the size of a mosquito should have this devastating effect on me.
My friend is home from her conference. I opened the gate for her to drive into the yard and she ran over this big rock we keep by the gate for propping the gate open. The rock is about 10 inches in diameter. It didn't hurt the car but it did bounce the rock into my foot. My big toe is all blackened. It
Click images for desktop size: "Silent Passage" by Unknown shows how bad off I am that I barely notice the pain from a traumatic injury.
I was glad to see my friend. I struggled hard not to pass out. By the time I'd sorted through that she'd fallen asleep! She slept for nearly 14 hours. Poor thing, she must have needed the rest.
She went into work today because she's the only management person who'll be accessible today. She took the giant dog and the gentle dog with her! That will be interesting for her and for her co-workers!
I'm going to miss them but I'm glad they're getting a break.
There was an upsetting incident with the foster dog yesterday. We took about an hour walk and been home about 15 minutes when I heard a bad bit of snarling and whining.
The foster dog had pressed the gentle dog into a corner and was snarling and biting at his neck. Gentle dog was not resisting but was clearly suffering. I pulled the foster dog off. He made no act or aggressive motion towards me.
The gentle dog was rattled but not physically harmed. He was upset but the one who was the most upset was the giant dog. He was trembling and stuck close to me for the next few hours. He was far more upset than the gentle dog.
The foster dog is subject to aggressive play. He initiates every play period and will not relent until the dogs play with him. After the attack they refused to deal with him for a couple of hours, all except my puppy who will only play with him if he plays her games.
Most of this is just a dog trying to figure out his place in the pack. Clearly he is not going to challenge me as the alpha dog and he's not interested in challenging my female puppy but he's using the
Click images for desktop size: "Count Basie" aggressive play to attempt to dominate the two males.
The only solution I have is to watch them carefully and when the foster begins to play and the playing is not reciprocated and continues to press he'll have to go to a time out.
The aggressive play indicates a lot of things. Breaking him of that bad habit may open him up to concentrating more clearly and being less stressed.
Its a saga.
One thing I might have known but didn't realize is that gentle dog was neutered late in life. This is odd to me because he is so gentle and happy, not in the way I associate with late neutered males. He was actually being used as a stud in the puppy mill he was rescued from which makes his gentleness and lack of aggression even more moving.
He still likes to bite me though . . .

For some reason I found myself thinking about Irvin Kershner. He's a film director there's no reason
Click images for desktop size: "The Call of the Wild" by Cole Phillips for anyone to know about except that for some incomprehensible reason he was picked to direct the "Star Wars" sequel, "The Empire Strikes Back". As I consider that to be the only watchable episode of "Star Wars" I find it interesting Lucas picked Kershner, a man whose career, up till then, had been defined by good but not remarkable gentle movies about people. There was never any hard edged cataclysms in Kershner;s movies. In "A Fine Madness" the hero, Sean Connery, is a poet who gets a lobotomy as a by product to trying to avoid jail for late alimony payments. in "The Flim Flam Man", George C Scott plays a con man who prowls the rural south. Scott is old, self aware, charming and sad without any bitterness.
Kershner's movies tended to be enjoyable, reasonably successful. How this translated out to working on a cash cow and making that cash cow the most interesting of the series is something worth contemplating.
Today figures to be much like tomorrow, with me trying to hold on. Friday is my friends "TV night". I've got the roomba running in the living room. I like to get everything nice so she can just veg out and enjoy the only show she watches. I'm still a believer in the Spartan aesthetic, and part of the asthetic is cleanliness. Even if she doesn't notice it makes me feel good getting it together for her.
I've learned how to move so as not to create any enormous pain for myself. I sort of had to. The sun has finally come out after 4 days! So it might be a better day.
There's no reason it shouldn't be. No reason it couldn't be.

Posted by David at 10:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Click images for desktop size: "Business Lady" by Unknown One odd thing that bothers me; when I dance and prance around to the music playing either in my head or on the iPod I used to feel liquid and elegant, now I feel stiff, jerky and unbalanced. Of course, that's just the way I feel. Maybe someone watching me sees me as smooth and swirling as I used to be (and yeah, I practiced my dancing in front of mirrors). Maybe everyone else always saw me as stiff, jerky and unbalanced. Everyone has their right to an opinion on my dancing. Naturally if you feel that way I'll have to fight you and my puppy would help me.

I'm not doing well.
I'm even gladder that the diabetic nurse called me. For some reason its better feeling miserable knowing that this is just normal adjustment of my body to the insulin than a new stage of misery unfolding before my life. Pain is not an enjoyable view of the future.
Yesterday was a loss. After the blood letting at the lab I got home loaded with ambition. They day turned out to me passing out for 45 minutes at a stretch then recovering then struggling to stay awake for more than a few hours.
When I went to bed for certain I woke up every 45 minutes, awakened by the pain. I'd keep trying to go back to sleep but at 3:30 I just gave up.
Now, three hours later, after all my meds and two cups of coffee I've managed to get past the nausea, my hands still feel cramped and my concept of arthritic. I've managed to hold my arms so that they and my shoulder are quiescent. The pain is just an easy endurable 2 on the chart, no worse than a bad headache.
I know I'm feeling better. My puppy has stopped her vigil, watching over me, and gone to sleep on the bed. I'm glad that she nor any of the dogs, don't see me as a god like master, but as another member of the pack that they love. My puppy loves me dearly. Sometimes I'm astonished at just
Click images for desktop size: "Dark Tower" by Marvel Comics how much she loves me. The same way I'm astonished at how much the gentle dog and the giant dog love my friend.
The foster dog isn't sure who he loves he just knows he desperately wants to love someone.
As much as I miss my friend I'm glad she's not here to see me like this. Its easier to suffer and throw myself around when there's no witnesses. I wonder what it is inside me that makes me refuse to show this much weakness even to people I trust.
Last night they kept my friend at her conference until stupid late. She had to rush to get to the concert she's had tickets for for nearly two months. They got to hear six songs . . . I like numbers so I figure that between the two of them they spent 15 bucks a tune! She doesn't mention whether they were good songs.

I'm going to try and accomplish something today. I need to for my own sanity and self respect. Its still a grim looking day. I'm going to take the dogs out for a walk. Maybe we'll meet some new people and new dogs. Then some household chores. I'll try and avoid the nap fever.
I keep thinking that at the doc's on Wednesday they'll give me some pill that will like instantly knock out the terrible pain. I was even looking for the terrible mood elevator pills that they don't ever give as a mood elevator because it stinks at the job it was designed for. They use it for neuropathic pain almost exclusively. I hate the pill because it makes me feel like I'm hung over for a few days after taking just one.
I'm already feeling badly hungover so . . . the pills were expired for
Click images for desktop size: "Janis Joplin" two years. I feel better about that. I still have a knee jerk reaction to depending on pills. To relying on something outside of myself.

I'm up to 23 units of insulin. I discovered that the SoloStar, the "pen" I use to inject the insulin, locks down at the amount of insulin it still contains. The last dose in it was 14 units, which meant that I had to inject myself twice. Not too surprisingly the second injection was much more painful and annoying. I resisted the temptation to re-use the same needle to boot. I used a fresh one but it still hurt.
It was annoying having to use a fresh needle. they're relatively precious. I'm relying on the free samples the diabetic nurse gave me. It seems that since the doctor didn't prescribe them I have to pay a serious price for them. He has to write a script for needles then they're a lot cheaper. I'm asking him for one when he gives me the script for the pain pill they decide on.
My blood sugars are still all over the place. Its annoying. My diet is good. Last night before the
Click images for desktop size: "Buffalo Hunt" by Charles Russell injections they were acceptable 8.1. Six hours of fasting later they are at 10.8! I still have to take all the pills I had to take before, the metformin and the glyburide (metformin makes my body more sensitive to insulin while glyburide squeezes what ever insulin there can still be left in my pancreas) the blood sugars are at 11.6! They should be in the 4 to 5 range.
I don't know what to make of it. I'll just keep doing the routine and see what comes off.

I was curious to see if anyone had been listening to the RIAA free music on the jukebox. I was a bit lost as it looks like no one has even taken a look at it. Maybe the feeling is that if the RIAA isn't willing to sue you for listening to it the music isn't very good. I disagree with that. There's some stuff there that I think is better than most of what's out there. I guess you have to like guitar music.

My puppy just came in to check on me. She's laid down beside me and is checking me intently. I'm going to feed her now and then we'll take off for our walk, she, I and the other three. I always feel lucky when I look at them all. I wonder what good things I ever did in life to deserve such affection, trust and friendship. I wonder that always. Funny, I never wonder what I'd done to deserve all the hell.
My puppy just got up and stopped the foster dog from coming in to jump on me (bad habit we're still working on). My puppy, my nurse and care giver.
To the day. To this day and to all the other days to come.

Posted by David at 7:28 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Click images for desktop size: "Red Umbrella" by Marta DahligModestly bad news on the health front. (My health has plenty to be modest about.)
Last night my blood sugars were at 12.7. I injected 18 units of Lantus (insulin). I was awakened at 4:30 by barking dogs and our guys wanting to go out and bark fight with them. I took my blood pressure and it was 150 over 80! My blood sugars were at 16.4. The blood sugars haven't been that high in years (?).
Three hours later the blood reports 10.5.
I feel frustrated.
I have to wrap my arms in elastic bandages just to move. It makes me feel like a Frankenstein monster in swaddling clothes. The bandage compression doesn't help the diabetic inspired neuropathic pain, but it suppresses the severe pain and cramping in the other muscles.
I haven't been able to stretch for months. Not even the old fashioned yawn-ey stretch in the morning thing, so that the muscles around the affected areas have started to knot up from the tension. I mean really know up. At first I thought I'd developed a series of tumors! I try and work them out with out much success.
(To understand how pain just below the shoulder point of the right arm and the elbow of the left has trashed my shoulder, neck, and clavicle I always use the story of Dizzy Dean. Dean was a hot shot Hall of Famer for the St Louis Cardinals. He broke a toe on his left foot. It annoyed him but it was just a small hurt, The Cardinals needed him. He needed the money so he figured he could easily pitch through the little pain. He pitched two games before he injured his arm and was out of baseball for good. His left foot was his pivot foot and the little pain forced an unnoticeable change in his delivery. His body compensated to avoid the pain and this produced enough torque in his elbow to tear the ligaments. They didn't have the
Click image: "Kessel Energy Spider" by Dragon Winter surgical techniques to repair it back then so a stubbed toe ended the career of one of the best pitchers in baseball.)
I'm starting to get angry about it.
The foster dog had a mild blow too. The perspective parents abruptly backed out. They claimed a family emergency that will necessitate them being in India for several months. I suspect if we had approved them and let them take the foster dog home they'd have called us in a couple of weeks and asked us to take him back. This is a pretty evil thing to do to a dog or a person. The timing is at least good for him.
I like to kid myself that I'm perceptive enough to have realized that these would have been the sort of people who would not see a dog as family, Any family emergency would, in my little world, have included the puppy.
Poor guy, but it could have been worse. He's a good pup. He'll find a home.
My goal with foster dogs isn't to move them out and sell them. I'm not involved in high turn over. I'm kind of known for making people jump through hoops. I want the dog and the people to all be happy together and to face life together. Love should not die.
The porch painting is progressing nicely. My friend is still having fun. That's the important thing. I don't care how long its taking so long as she has fun.
As the worst painter in any group I always get the cruddy job. Ceiling painting. It was hard because I had to extend my arms over head. It went alright though. The bandages got me through it.
It is finally looking like something. The color was supposed to be
Click images for desktop size: "Judy Garland" sand and look like stone and gravel. Its sort of a yellowish brown in execution. Nothing wrong with the color, just not what my friend expected. (To me it still looks like the inside of a translucent mushroom.)
Painting the ceiling I managed to drip paint on everything. My hair, my iPod even the giant dog has a couple of interesting splotches on him. They add personality . . . the last thing giant dog needs is more personality. I kept throwing him off the porch but the sight of me cursing and shouting in pain while standing on a ladder is just too appealing. Even my puppy comes and peeks at me. She walks away shaking her head.
Today I start of the floor. Being a porch I get to use the hose on it. For some unknown reason I'm looking forward to that. Sweeping it down and then spraying it with the hose. I wish we had one of those high pressure "thousand pounds of pressure hoses". That would be cool and potentially destructive!

Click images for desktop size: "Ricardo Del Cuore" by Titus BoyI still love the idea of potential destruction.
I also realized that I have a coaches meeting on Monday. This meeting slightly baffles me. Its to discuss drills to be done in player evaluation.
I'm confused because this is silly stuff and doesn't fit the pretty slick image they've presented to me. There are a core of drills. Watching a kid run them, watching him step over bags, watching him run, watching him strive to compete tells me all I need to know. It shows his heart and his present ability level. It shows his attitude.
When kids get psyched and say stuff like "I need to get the pads on. When I'm out there hitting people then I can really show them what I've got!"
The kids are wrong on that. I can tell what you've got by the way you plant your foot on a post corner cut drill. I can see how well you'll mix it up by the way your eyes follow me as you do the step over drills. I can tell if you've got the heart to be unbeatable by the way you check others heights on the vertical jump. I can tell how hard you can hit by your distance on the broad jump. Most importantly, how you do on that tell me what I have to teach you and what we need to do together to shape your body into what you want it to be.
I always note coaches who want full contact drills. I was asked to coach an All Star team in Europe. I and the other American coaches were google eyed when we saw one of the European coaches running "nutcrackers". Nutcrackers were punishment drills, made to "toughen you up" is some jerk of a coach thought you were slacking.
You give the kid a ball and set him out to run into three defenders with no protection. The defenders are about five yards off from the kid. The kid is guaranteed to get hammered. Some jerk college coaches use nutcrackers to get kids to quit the team and give up their scholarships.
We asked the European coach what he was doing. He was seeing if the kids were tough enough and really wanted to play. Since this was an All Star trial I sort of figured that had been answered.
That coach never beat any of our teams.
I'm afraid how many of my fellow coaches in this meeting will want to run full contact drills to see the obvious stuff that they should be able to see on their own.
Their argument will be that the kids love the contact. Some of them, most of them hopefully, love the contact. I like to keep the kids hungry for it.

Click images for desktop size: "Picture Book" by Robert F Blum Maybe I'll be surprised and the meeting will be to discuss some new drills that some crazy scientist has devised that safely and intelligently give even more diagnostic proof. Maybe.
My friend is going to have to end her vacation by going to this meeting with me. She's going to become my statistician! I need her to follow me around and record all the trials. Most of you have seen me on my own with my little scraps of paper with dozens of numbers rapidly scrawled all over them. Some of you have even given me nice little notebooks which, in a matter of hours, I have reduced to little scraps of paper that fall out of my pockets all over the field.
I figure she might enjoy the meeting and might get an idea of the information she'll be recording. She'll enjoy that. even organizing it into spreadsheets!
Time to feed the dogs and start on todays porch project!

Posted by David at 8:12 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "La Gutin" by Pavel Last night I went to sleep with my blood sugar at 5.4. That's pretty good. I injected 17 units of Lantus (insulin) and this morning my blood sugars were 6.4 which is on the bright side of  acceptable.
I'm eating lunch in a few minutes - cheap-o ramen. So in a couple of hours the verdict will be in on whether the insulin has finally kicked in and become a part of my body chemistry..

Click images for desktop size: "Bob Dylan"
People say I complain a lot, even about things I agree with and am happy about. I don't know about that. I think its a part of my constant consideration. Part of it is that I know there are too few golden chances in life. I don't want to miss one. Same part is that there are many traps, most of which we set for ourselves. I try and avoid those. Another part is that I think you have to consider all sides of a problem and an issue. I tend to do that in the front brain and sometimes it comes out aloud.
I'm also generally described as self deprecating. I had to look that one up. I don't think I ma at all. I just have a tendency to think about other things than myself first. I do have a huge ego. My only issue with self esteem is that I don't think others have enough of it.

Click images for desktop size: "Pin Up" by Earl Moran I also have a natural cynicism and stoicism that makes me seem crabby . . . okay, I am crabby.
This is all thinking about stuff when pain in my arms woke me up. Three times last night. Once so badly I woke everyone else.
I guess I don't know how to age gracefully. Aside from having a total jerk of a step-father my young life was gold. Southern California; I was a good, sometimes great surfer, stud athlete, played guitar in a band that made "rekkids". My teen memories are flooded with images of girls sidling up to me and whispering outrageous things into my ears.
Now I was heartened when the diabetic nurse looked at my records and said, "oh, I never would have thought you were that old!" My hamstrings are so tight I have to stoop to pick something off the ground. I can't put the dog food back in the fridge without grunting. I've got my arm wrapped in elastic bandage so I can nearly raise it over my head. I had 6 teeth pulled, which makes 9 I'm missing altogether. The psychological damage of the cosmetics hurt more than the novocaine needles.
I never imagined getting older would mean being less than what I always knew I was.
Somehow through all this I still know I can coach kids and teach them to be winners. I can still make enemies and I can still make friends. I can still not care what people think about me. I can still think highly enough of myself to stay true to myself. I can still be happy.
Happy thanks to my friend and my puppies.

It never rained at all last night. It is a golden day today. Might reach 80!! Too warm. I re-cleared the stuff from the porch so that the painting can continue today.
I needed the day off. A lot of the pain has recessed. I like the way the big project is looking. I like it better that my friend is still on vacation and finally starting to relax a bit. (She had to log into her work account yesterday. I don't really understand why. She just had to.
The puppies are doing well. Foster dog got a bit crazy yesterday. The kid next door is an ass. He was teasing the dog. I don't think he started out with malicious intent, but after I asked him to stop and he continued I got irked. With kids this came out as, "Please stop aggravating my dog. Thank you!" That stopped him as best as it could.
My friend thinks maybe the kid was abused or something. I've worked with enough abused kids to think the kid is just a bored ass.

Yesterday I mentioned my puppy's aunt. I mentioned her cat which is doing well in her struggle to survive. I wrote the cat was now 50. Okay. This was a typo. The cat is 15!
I think that counts as a retraction. Okay?

Posted by David at 12:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Nature" by Celso Junior Good news. Last night my blood sugars were 8.0 which is just a bit bad. This morning my blood sugars were 5.4 which is pretty good.
I had a breakfast of eggs, frijoles, kiwi and potatoes. Two hours later my blood sugars were . . . (testing) 12.3 . . . That's not too good. Should have been between 7 and 10.
I'm up to 16 units of Lantus (insulin) so it will be 17 units tonight.
At least there's some sort of reaction.

The perspective foster dog parents didn't come yesterday. They'll come to meet him on Friday or Saturday. He could care less. He's found his place in the pack. Now he just has to face his place in the house hold.
The only thing wrong with him is that he is the world's sloppiest drinker. He drinks savagely and leaves at least half of what he takes out dripping from his mouth. I've watched him gulp up a pint of water, turn his head and let it all fall out on the floor. Fortunately I don't mind mopping a lot.
Yesterday, while cleaning up the painting for the day, the giant dog and the gentle dog found a real funny joke. I left the front door open because it was nice. The pair of them came up on the porch and whined and wiggled to get me to open the door for them so they could go into the house. They plowed in and two 20 seconds later they were back up on the porch begging to get into the house . . . I looked at them with one of my looks and let them in.
Twenty seconds later they RAN onto the porch, giant dog was wiggling and laughing so hard he could barely shine so gentle dog scratched at the door to get in.
I let them in. Five seconds later they were both stumbling onto the porch shaking with laughter and collapsing on each other going to the door. I laughed too. This was a signal to attack me and try and
Click images for desktop size: "Peacock Phoenix" by Unknown lick me. I hate being licked which, to them, made this all the funnier.
I have to remember I like dogs.
While I see painting as something that needs to be done I knew my friend enjoys it. I underestimated how much she would enjoy it. She said she was having fun. She looked forward to it.
This held even though she discovered that the paint wasn't exactly the color she had envisioned.
We got the paint at the Salvation Army! Recycled paint. It was cheaper but not a steal. Still it looks cleaner. The old paint looked like the product of a drunken hippy pipe dream. Not real hippies but like those old guys who have dreams of hooking up with a space cadet hard body chick. The chick had dreams of going to design school or being a fashionista.
She was with the old guy only because she had nothing else to do and no money to do it with. She probably needed a place to crash that night. After a couple of drinks and a joint she was probably wrinkling her nose at the state of the place and came up with this whacked design scheme. Since this was a way to get the chick to hang out the old guy readily agreed and the end result was . . . this?
She probably left as soon as it was finished, probably with the guy behind the counter at the liquor store.
Now the porch will look like the inside of a mushroom on a sunny day . . . Which is still better.
All week long there was an 80% chance of rain last night and today. So last night I spent about an hour hauling all the stuff I'd taken off the porch back onto the porch. There's a lot. The porch is more a summer room that a porch (two chaise lounges and three tables sort of things as well as an incalculable amount of lamps. My friend had fallen asleep so I had to do it myself. Hurt myself early and often.
Today its mid sixties and there's only a 30% chance of rain tonight . . . I couldn't have worked anyway. Even taped my shoulders are both killing me, add in all the dings and I'm close to worthless.
Still a vacation day is a vacation day.
I did watch two movies last evening. Back in the 80's Dolph Lundgren was the next big thing. There was this xeroxed magazine you couldn't afford to miss by the Hollywood Kids. It was six pages of
Click images for desktop size: "No Peeking" by Peter Dribben the nastiest cattiest fawning gossip in LA.
When Lundgren was cast in "He Man and the Masters of the Universe" opposite Frank Langella as Skeltor they went ballistic to the point of sneaking into the Lundgren's costume fitting. They reported he was more imposing and gorgeous in real life even if he did have pimples on his butt.
I figure that's the mark of real adoring fame. Either when someone takes the time to notice the pimples on your butt or loves you despite them.
Of course then then movie came out and Lundgren wasn't hot anymore. It was really bad. Langella survived because he got to wear a mask through the whole movie. Lundgren did a lot of junk movies after that. He became irrelevant.
He had that one interesting flash with "Big SHowdown in Little Tokyo" but everyone put that off to the burgeoning star power of Brandon Lee. Then he sort of faded to direct to video.
I somehow got a hold of a copy of a movie called "Missionary Man" when I saw it starred Lundgren I left it on but proceeded to do chores while it played. It wasn't great but it was good and Lundgren directed himself in a way I guess he really wanted to be. Chaste, huge, dangerous with an leaning towards finer feelings that he and his character knew he would never fully grasp.
I liked it. Made me see his next (or maybe previous) direct to DVD thing called "Diamond Dogs". It really sucked.
But yesterday I watched the 1989 Lundgren "The Punisher". While
Click images for desktop size: "Ray Charles" not a gruesome as the latest Punisher flic its surprisingly good. Lundgren is very effective as the deranged revenge fueled anti-hero. Marvel Comics wasn't the power house production company it is now so this is just a cheapie (even though Stan Lee still grabbed a production credit).
It actually made me feel warmly for Dolph Lundgren, and the cheap but stylish sets and his lumbering presence made for a cool enough 90 minutes.
After that I watched a strange movie, "Method Man". Nothing to do with the rapper/movie star. Its a seventies kung fu flic. This may be the worst movie ever made but and this is a shock the action choreography and the fighters are superb! It makes no sense. But when the fighters are mixing it up it reaches level similar to Liu Chia Lang's glorious choreography of Philip Kwok in the Chang Cheh flics that followed it. The fighters fly around and perform astonishing purely physical feats that dazzle and delight then we get back to the dreadful story which makes little sense even by cheapie 70's kung fu standards.

Click images for desktop size: "One Puff" by Monogamez Today is my puppy's aunt's birthday. To celebrate her 50 year old cat, (CAT!) is still hanging on. Perhaps just to spite me and my puppy. I can live with that. This is one of those cats with the sense to wish she were a dog.
My puppy's aunt other celebration was that their flat panel TV blew up! An over priced Sony. But even then there's a birthday miracle. They got the extended warranty so they get a brand new, current model FREE!
I've never heard of one of those extended warranties ever working out for anyone before. Sounds like a good, no make that an excellent happy birthday to me. Well, it should be.

Posted by David at 1:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Hot Robot" by Lavakillu When I went to bed my blood sugars were 6.8. Acceptable. When I woke up this morning they were 11.6! It used to be the reverse of that. 11.6 is not good.
I'm up to 15 units of insulin. I have no idea how long before everything stabilizes.
Early Saturday morning I woke up with the worst headache of my life and I'm a guy who fractured his skull and had 3 concussions. It felt like a cheap description of a migraine. They warned me that headaches might be an early side effect to the insulin. I never imagined it would be like that.

We started the vacation project. Scrapped the entire porch and got the front porch 80% primered. It already looks better.
I tried wrapping my shoulder in an elastic bandage. It help considerably. I had a few twinges but only one drop me to my knees killer hurt. I worked through it. As everyone knows I'm stupid that way. It gentled up to an ache after a half hour.
I got whacked with overwhelming fatigue twice. There's no doubt that the fatigue from the insulin is a lot easier to push through than the leukemia fatigue. I'm pretty happy with how much work I got done. I expected to get more done than I did but, well, who wouldn't.
First coat today then will primer the back porch, there should be time to do that. Then have to bring everything back onto the porches. It is supposed to rain late tonight. I think the rain will come late enough to not mess up the paint.
If it rains all day tomorrow then we'll get to go to the Chinese Buffet!!
That will please the dogs no end. They deserve pleasing. They were very good through all the activity. Foster dog has settled in just in time to get adopted! There's been an application to adopt him and it has all checked out. They'll do the home visit this week. The potential adopters might
Click images for desktop size: "Korean Girl" by Unknown come today to meet the foster and to be harshly judged by my friend and me.
Harshly judged in that we want what's best for the dog and for them. The important thing is everyone be happy. I'm always predisposed to anyone who wants to have a good dog in their life. The foster is a pretty good dog. Not as great as my dogs but pretty great for all that.
One thing about all the painting is got to spend a lot of time with the iPod. Anything would have been better than the sound of paint scrappers on wood.
I like the new Green Day album "21st Century Breakdown". There's nothing as grabbing as "American Idiot", "Basket Case", or even "Geek Stink Breath" but its alright. I'm pretty disappointed with the new Queensryche, "American Soldier". I've been disappointed with Queensryche since "Empire", but one always has hope.
I'm surprised that my favorite album so far this year has been Offspring's "Rise and Fall, Rage and Grace". Weird. Since I only knew them from "Pretty Fly for a White Guy" it is shocking to discover that a novelty band could com out with a nice crunchy set of pop anthems. I particularly like "Stuff is Messed Up".
I've been trying to get my RIAA-Free jukebox up on the site. Its a complicated affair. One of those things I thought would be dead easy but is turning into a chore. It has mostly to do with permissions (unix file permissions) and folder structure than anything else. I'll keep on it. It will be a cool way to display music that needs hearing.
I wish I liked Nine Inch Nails and Radiohead more than I do. They're two bands who get it. They understand the world has changed and refuse to stick with the stupidity that is epitomized by the RIAA and the MPAA.
Got to be brief. Life is catching up to me and I don't want to miss any of the show.

Posted by David at 6:33 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Gunslinger Girl" by VM Before my injection my blood sugar was 6.8, just inside the target. This morning the count was 5.9, which is okay.
It bugs me that a couple of months ago I was getting better numbers just from the pills. For all the stigma and grief from the injections I was expecting something more dramatic from the insulin.
I have gotten a bit better at doing it. My stomach is sore from it. The hardest part is, well the whole thing is hard and tricky; holding the needle dead steady while it hurts is hard then pushing in the little plunger is tricky and uncomfortable but the part I got wired is holding the needle inside of me for a count of 20. It makes me cringe now, even thinking about it.
The reason is that if you pull the needle out too soon the insulin seeps out . . . Crazy.
The insulin is not improving the pain in my shoulders yet. Its still excruciating and stops me from doing things like putting on my jacket. and combing my hair.
I mowed the rest of the yard yesterday. It rained in the morning but then the sun came out and there was enough of a wind to dry out the grass. My left handed falling pull start still worked. I was able to grimace through getting the mower over and around all the hills and stumps and things.
I was concerned because I felt more exhausted than I should. Its a side effect that should level out. Quickly I hope. Getting fatigued stirs negative memories.

Today is a big day. An important day. It is my puppy's fourth birthday.

Click images for desktop size: "Kurbatova" by Playboy Four years old and in all that time we've only been apart about 15 weeks. Twelve weeks while she was being weaned from her mother. Three weeks when we moved. The three weeks were hard on both of us for exactly the same reason and with pretty much the same intensity and longing.
She may not be the perfect dog to anyone else but she and I are perfect together.
She remembers things I tell her and will do things to please me. She gets defiant and demanding. She gets angry. She gets loving and protective. She plays jokes and tricks on me. We bicker and fight. We play games that are meaningless to everyone but her and me.
Together we are a boy and a dog.
I never much liked the show "Cheers", knowing a couple of the writers didn't help, but I heard a part of one episode where one of the characters said he was writing a novel about a man and his dog wandering the corn fields and drinking beer. I could read a novel like that and picture my puppy as the dog.
The entire world would be a scary bad place if by some cosmic mishap she and I had never met.
I feel pretty much the same way about my friend.

This is my friend's last day of work. Vacation time.
Only a week but it will be nice for and for me. Except someone stupid, probably me, decided that the vacation should be spent painting the porch . . . how dull. I mean why ruin a vacation just because the house needs the work?
So it will improve our lives, what reason is that to ignore frivolous self gratification.
I hate painting. It will be fine. We might even laugh while we're suffering through the arduous chore.

We managed to get tickets for the Jack White tour. The one he's doing with that other side band of his, Dead something or other. I like Jack White and still think he's the guitarist of the 21st Century.
Click images for desktop size: "Punk" by Unknownk His shows don't disappoint. He's an entertainer. Of course on this tour he's playing the drums . . .
I always viewed the White Stripes as pretty much a solo act. I can imagine White dragging along his ex-wife as support. You just don't do solo acts with just an electric guitar. White showed you could.
Meg was a pretty poor drummer. She'd lose the beat a lot but White keep a more driving steady beat in his head. His work on the guitar still astounds me.
Its interesting seeing him not be the soloist with the Raconteurs, to lose a part of himself within a real band. Some of the work is excellent, none of it less than good but it felt like White was losing some part of himself, like he was being too deferential to his band mates. I would have been more interested if it had been "Jack White & The Raconteurs" instead of a true band. It would have been awesome seeing White's manic intensity with a back up band. The Raconteurs are a collaboration.
I've only seen YouTube Videos of the Raconteurs live. The stage show looks like the same sort of democratic sharing thing until White does "Bang Bang" the crazy Nancy Sinatra number. Its worth seeking out. It shows what White could do as the frontman.
This will b interesting. Jack White as a drummer. Yow! He can keep a beat so we'll see if it catches fire.

I saw "Zatoichi 17: Zatoichi Challenged".
Peter Welling's defined an auteur as a director who was able to work within established genres and stay within the strict conventions demanded while still managing to express his own voice. Zatoichi movies are almost a genre unto themselves. Formally they are
Click image: "Growing Love" by Frida Lind Chambara (sword fighting) and jidai-geki (period piece).
Within this definition it still astonishes me that Kenjiro Misumi is not recognized as one of the greatest directors in the world.
Zatoichi's movie's follow a path, a path that Misumi defined. I wonder if most of his brilliant story telling innovations have been lost as they have comprised the bedrock of Japanese chambara films in the sixties and seventies.
This entry in the Zatoichi saga is fascinating on its own, touching and startling, moving with an economy and sparseness that recalls zen. It stands on its own as well as laying the groundwork for Misumi's later works and themes.
Worth renting for sure.

The foster dog is starting to fit in to the pack better with each moment. Now we're off to the closed down dog park to see what there might be to see on this birthday day.

Posted by David at 11:38 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Fun Fair" by Unknown Last night my blood sugar count was 12.1, a little high. The insulin injection was no less painful and still left me with an annoying sort of tingling throughout my body. I slept pretty solid for 4 hours. I was tired from no sleep and a pretty busy day. On wakening my blood pressure was 128 over 78, within target and my blood sugars were 8.8, still too high.
This means that tonight I have to give my self 12 units. I'm
Click images for desktop size: "The Monkees" supposed to increase it by 1 unit a day until the readings are right. There was some confusion this morning as my friend thought it was 1 unit every other day. I called and checked and I was right! I'm not sure if that's a winning thing or not.
I also found out that I have to replace my blood meter pretty soon. That sucks. The meter is about 50 bucks, but the test strips run about a hundred. There's the little plastic strips that have to feed into the machine to collect the blood. Each strip is coded and they don't work on different machines . . . Seems that the machines start declining in accuracy after 1 year. Planned obsolescence?
I think there's something wrong with America in that you can only stay alive if you can afford it. I was lucky before. There was a town where the government thought all of its citizens were precious
Click images for desktop size: "Four Mounted Indians" by Charles Russell and there were doctors willing to donate their time. In Texas I could only afford my medication every other month or not at all.
When I was in grad school I drove a taxi cab at night. Held the job for 6 months or so. I had to give it up. Teaching and in school all day and working all night was kind of stupid. I'd fall asleep at odd times. When I was driving around LA about 4 am and suddenly it was 4:40 and I had no idea of where I was or how I'd gotten there. I'd been driving asleep for 40 minutes. Time to quit.
Driving a cab was unique. I made a lot of money. Meet a lot of people. Drag queen, drunks, hookers wanting to trade sex for the fare, gay guys telling me how they wanted a man like me, celebrities and sometimes people I knew. I thought they were all interesting except the wannabee pimps. I didn't like them much at all.
The cops used to flag me to pull over. While I was trying to figure what I'd done to attract the cop's attention they'd open the door and start piling in women, hookers. They'd throw a ten or a twenty dollar bill at me and tell me not to let the hookers out of the car and drive them west till I crossed the County Line. In LA the city cops run everything up to Crescent Heights and then its run by the Sheriff's Department.
The girls complained about how the cops had stolen all their money. The first time I figured it was just hooker talk. The fourth time I had to believe them. The girls always piled out of the cab at the first stop light. I had no intention of even trying to stop them. That would have felt to creepy, like kidnapping. I was a grad student driving a cab, not a cop.
Once a cop pulled me over and dumped a girl in the cab. She'd been stabbed. The cop told me to drive her to Queen of Angels. He didn't want to call an ambulance and fill in papers for street trash at the end of his shift.
She was bleeding but not terribly. We got to the hospital and there were a couple of orderlies and a
Click images for desktop size: "Panda" woman. They wouldn't let the woman out of the cab. She had no insurance, a credit card or $2,000 in cash. She was bleeding worse. I had to drive her to General Hospital (famous in bad TV series). Its the only charity hospital in LA.
Once I got flagged by a couple of guys in West Hollywood. One of the guys had been shot. Cedars Sinai was only two blocks away. I drove him there in less than a minute.
They went inside. I was in the back washing the blood off the seat when they came back. The one guy was still dragging his shot friend who was looking worse. Cedars wouldn't take his friend as a patient, not enough credit on his card and no insurance. The ambulance service wanted $125 in cash to take them to UCLA Med Center. The cab ride would be about 20 bucks.
(Even the Fire Department charges for ambulance service, but not in advance. They bill you. Same for Paramedic treatment. They used to not go crazy trying to collect, at least they didn't used to.)
So I know and I've seen that if you don't have enough money to live "they" are just as happy to see you die. And they can do it without mercy or fear. Killer world.

I mowed the lawn yesterday. It hurt. I got the mower started by grabbing that rope thing with my left hand, holding my arm stiff and then sort of falling backwards. Took three times but it ran.
I could only do about 40% of the yard. The vibrations and bucking the machine over the hills and valleys created too much pain.

Click images for desktop size: "Che" I was able to wear the iPod. The new cable is not as efficient as the old one, the silky wires one. It tangled a couple of times but not as badly as the Entymotics would tangle. I still don't have a solid feel for whether the sonic improvements and the probability that these cable won't need replacement are worth giving up the easy functionality of the silky ones. I still love the Ultimate Ears.
The foster dog is settling in. The gentle dog is very serious in hating him. The giant dog loves playing with him but hates him when he comes close to my friend. My puppy ignores him unless he plays one of the games he likes.
Situation normal.
My friend actually enjoyed her field trip. She got to hike through some untrammeled woods. She even got a cool walking stick from a dead tree. She bought it home for my puppy! Foster dog an my puppy played with it until the newcomer broke it in half. My puppy was indignant!

Posted by David at 11:19 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Fabrique de statues sur isle de Bali" by ebajart Before I went to bed my blood sugars were 8.1. My target is between 4 and 7, so it was high, just not terribly high. The nurse/diabetes expert said that most diabetics who start insulin after being on pills are looking at numbers around 25! She thought it was cool I was aware enough to catch it so soon. It spoke well of me following my dietary restrictions.
I did the insulin injection. Forget the propaganda about the needle in the belly not hurting. It hurt like a son of a gun! It burned,
Click image: "Lena Horn and Dean Martin" was sore afterwards and left a mark like a bug bite. It could have been worse I suppose. I'll probably get used to it, like I've gotten used to pricking my fingers two or three times a day.
Even though I've got a high tolerance for pain I've never been big on self inflicted pain. Way back in high school there was a fad amongst some of the more vapid football players. Two guys would sit opposite each other and rest their forearms against each other's. Then they'd drop a burning cigarette between their forearms. The first guy to flinch was called chicken.
I thought it was cool to watch but I thought it was pretty stupid too. I noticed that it was only me and the other surfers who never got involved in it. Some guys forearms were a huge mass of burn scars, many of them running about the full length of a cigarette. I don't know if the surfers had more sense or just figured that our sports banged us up enough. Maybe we wanted to show self respect, maybe we didn't have to prove anything to anybody, maybe we were chicken. Who knows? I don't like inflicting pain on myself.
Click images for desktop size: "Full Moon" by Luis Royo Plenty of people to do that for you, if your so inclined.
I didn't sleep well. It was predicted. Tossed and turned, tremors and head achey.
I had to take my blood readings immediately on wakening. Surprised me that I went to bed at 8.1, injected myself and woke up with an 11.8! I guess this proves that my liver is working fine at making all them sugars all night. It also means I have to increase the dosage by 1 unit this evening.
I took the kidney medicine this morning. Its side effect, which is viewed as positive is that it also lowers the blood pressure. I do note that when the tooth pain was finally gone my blood pressure dropped to well within my safety parameters. It can still afford to be lower.
I notice that the prescription bottle forbids driving. I can expect to stand up and fall down a couple of times.
My friend had to get out of bed 2 hours earlier than usual. Her job is taking the entire region on a field trip . . . to let them see what all their efforts are accomplishing. The field trip is making them all take a bus. Reminds me of grammar school.
Not only did she have to get up two hours earlier than usual to catch the bus but the first person on the bus is her old boss whom she doesn't quite get along with. The old boss is still a VP. The VP is showing a hunting video . . . This is a conservation group. Somehow, I don't think its an anti-hunting video.
I dislike hunting. I've tried it. Shooting something alive doesn't seem like much of a sport. I've never been able to do it especially after watching guys who weren't as good a shot (on the range) as I was, maim and harm animals who didn't fall.
Also hunting is pretty boring. Hunting with a bow and arrow is just as boring to me and even lacks the thrill of worrying about your companion shooting you in the face or the back on accident.
I would find it especially distressing to watch a video of this "sport". All blood sports seem vapid to me anyway. But watching them? Watching 200 yard drives in a TV golf match would be more exciting.
The foster dog is coming along. His surgery has healed up enough to let him roam with the pack. He's still annoyingly stressed but willing o make some strides.

Click images for desktop size: "The Tradition" by Unknown My friend and I disagree a bit on what his history was that bought him to this state in his life and his personality. Nothing serious. More importantly we agree on what his future will be. He's a good dog.
The giant dog loves to run and play with him outside. Inside he wants to kill the foster especially when the foster comes anywhere near my friend or me. Jealous guy. Shows the silliness of being jealous at all.
My puppy thinks that playing is great but not with the foster. She'll make light dalliances but if he doesn't respond in her prescribed fashion she ignores him. He's smart enough to ignore her right back.
But he won't ignore the gentle dog who seems to really hate him. Gentle dog is always growling at him when the foster dog breaks gentle dog's "circle of influence". (An old aikido term I really like).
This is all pretty normal. They'll shift soon enough as the foster calms down and begins to accept his place in the pack.
I worked last night with his aggressive play nature. Its not a good thing when a dog initiates play constantly. I felt heartless about stopping a dog from playing but it worked. He started to calm down and then spent the final two hours of the evening wrapped around my legs as I sat in the office.
Today was going to be the first lawn mowing day of the year. I have no idea if it is but it seems to me that it should be a day worth celebrating. When I tried to start the lawnmower I nearly killed the bad arm. The right one not the bad left one . . . It dropped me to one knee.
Part of my pain chart goes like this: 2=headache, 6=slamming your hand in a car door, 8=tearing cartilage in your knee.
At rest my right arm is a constant 2, when I try to work it out with proper exercises it often reaches 6. When I forget and make a quick movement like stretching or reaching for a jar on a high shelf it goes to 8 for about 3 minutes then takes about 10 minutes to calm down and get back to 2.
The good news (?) is that its almost definitely neuropathic. There's a chance that getting the blood sugars correct will reduce the pain somewhat. Makes the pain of the injections (a 1 which equals a pin prick or a paper cut) seem worthwhile.
I'll probably need another pill for the pain when it settles.
I ant to mow the lawn today, at least a part of it. I want to listen to the iPod. I've been using the new cable for the Ultimate Ears long enough to have an opinion. I love the UE's, not least because they were a present from my friend. One of the things I loved about them was the silk like wire. They've stopped making that thin and super flexible
Click images for desktop size: "Factory" by Clarence Carter stuff. he new cables are heavier and stiffer, though not as heavy by far as the wiring on the Entymotics. The UE's are still capable of being light enough and non-obtrusive enough to sometimes make the music from the iPod seem like the music that often plays in my head on its own. I rather like that.
One advantage of the heavier gauge, other than it shouldn't need replacing like the silky ones is a noticeable increase in midrange performance. At about 2,000 hertz its more detailed, coming closer to but not exceeding or meeting the clarity of the Entymotics.
I'm on a fence whether the sonic improvement makes up for the lightness of the silky wire. I hoped the lawn mowing would make that clearer.

Posted by David at 9:21 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "D'Amour" by Douleur I'm re-reading Raymond Chandler's and Robert Parker's "Poodle Springs". That's the book that was supposedly based on notes and pages Chandler was working on when he died. I've heard its anywhere from 5 pages of manuscript to 100.
Anyway, somebody hired Robert Parker to finish the book up.
When I first heard of this I rushed and got it right away. Got it in hard cover. I mean this is literature. Raymond Chandler. When you
Click images for desktop size: "Hope and Crosby"live in pop culture land as much as I do literature that you can actually enjoy, that isn't some arduous task that will some how make you into a mythic better person, you have to jump on it. Buying it in hard cover made it mean something, made it permanent and real.
I was pretty excited and really sort of sad that it more than a little bit sucked.
Robert Parker isn't anywhere near the writer Chandler was. Chandler was about the scene, the characters, and the poetry. Parker is about the plot, about the mystery and the crime.
Because of Chandler I've read a lot of mystery stuff. Don't care for most of it.
Part of the problem is that its hard to figure which is Chandler and what is Parker imitating Chandler. Like there's a scene where Marlowe helps out a gambling cheat who's also a bigamist. He helps him avoid getting arrested for murder because he saw the guy with his first wife and thought they looked sweet together. That's not totally inconsistent with Marlowe, but it's a bit too sentimental to be taken seriously. You wonder how much did Chandler intend to keep and how much was just taking a look at it.

Click images for desktop size: "Conquering the World" by Unknown At this stage of his life Chandler did all of his writing into a tape recorder then had it all transcribed. He would then ruthlessly edit the typewritten pages.
Its easy to imagine the meticulousness that he approached his editing. When he submitted his first short story he went through and typed it by himself. Because the cheap pulp magazines used justified margins Chandler went through and typed his manuscript with the same justified margins! This wasn't mousing over a button and clicking it, he counted letters and spaces and figured it all out.
So even though he typed things out there's no guarantee that he would have left it in the final story. We all know that Marlowe could get sappy, but he never acted sappy and he never saw killers as friends no matter how much he liked them before they became killers, no matter how sympathetic he might be.
In the book Marlowe is married to the multi-millionairess Linda Loring nee' Potter from "The Long Goodbye". Parker has them constantly squabbling about how Marlowe has to be his own man. Chandler never squabbled. You get the impression that Parker had so many great squabble lines that he decided he needed to use them all. Instead of condensing them all down to a bare element he scatters them throughout the story so they become tedious instead of whip smart. After the first squabble you know this marriage is doomed. Chandler would have let us see that love is always present but the people are just too wrong for each other. All the bickering just makes us dislike both of the people and feel relieved when they're apart.
I even wonder about the title. "Poodle Springs" as a nom de plume for Palm Springs is a little weird. Chandler didn't like dogs so perhaps he'd have kept it to show his contempt for the desert resort. But the same way he let Faun Lake stand in for Big Bear I don't think he'd have let his roman de clef predominate the story. It was the location, the air of the scene not the feelings for the place that overwhelmed.
Back in the life where I cared about such things I wrote an adaptation of Chandler's last original unproduced screenplay. I wrote it so I could make the movie with my friends, shoot it on 8mm stock with sound than transfer it to video for a sale to VHS. It was a good plan and I managed to strip the story down to free to use locations (borrowing from all my friends, their homes and their clubs, restaurants and offices). We even shot a few scenes before the contact I had at the video distributorship told me the cost the Chandler Estate agents wanted for my adaptation. The WGA said that my script contained about 35% of
Click images for desktop size: "Hannabai" by Kurkosawa Chandler's so I had to play ball. Forced me to abandon that little dream.
In rewriting his screenplay and bringing it into contemporary LA, a stripped down LA, I was inadvertently following Chandler's big advice for how to learn to write. He always preached that you had to read something you liked then sit down and rewrite it in your own words. Not copy it but try to recreate the impact of the scene or the characters.
The by product of this is that I learned more about how Chandler constructed his scenes, what appealed to me and also how different Chandler's and my view of the world actually is.
In understanding it I grew to appreciate the differences as much as the similarities. I was able to see more clearly his concepts of the world and of LA. It served me well in understanding people, and having compassion for those who are different and those who I think are just wrong.
I guess "Poodle Springs" as flawed and poor as it is still serves some purpose in that it forces me to remember the the LA that Chandler created so that I can recall more vividly the LA I lived in.

It rained all weekend. My friend had to work all weekend. Not the best of times. Done now.
My friend meets her new boss today, on the telephone. Conference call thing. Seems odd to me but at least they didn't ask her to make the 2 hour drive to meet him.
My arms have become ridiculous. I'm bored with the agony. Tomorrow, if I get my bike running today, I get my Doctorate in self Injectology. I'm holding out the wispy hope that insulin might go some way to relieving this grief. So bad that muscles around the pain have turned into walnuts. If I was of the paranoid bent I'd decided the knots are masticized tumors.
The foster dog is amazing. He has to live in his crate with the stupid cone head collar on but he remains joyous. Sometimes a little bit more than required. I've only ever had one foster dog who arrived calm. Charles. an old cocker> He was very much about his business and even more so about his pace. Otherwise every foster has arrived full of life, a complete ignorance of most things human, and an inbred compulsion to play with everything.
I think that's right.

Posted by David at 10:29 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "African Autumn" by Miss Yucki The foster dog is doing well. A bit of extra work and I still the body that resents extra work.
He has to stay in the crate. Which is hard on him and me. I was enjoying letting him sit quiet behind the gate to his room but he quickly discovered he could jump the gate with no trouble. He escaped out into the yard and ran around full speed play attacking everybody. After I had to catch him I checked his stitches. They were a bit fiery but not broken. The giant dog in particular was over joyed to have his play buddy back.
This morning foster dog started to worry the stitches with his mouth. I had to put the Elizabethan collar on him . . . he hates me. The other three are all impressed with the cone head looking dog. They all barked at him. I had him on lead while he did nothing but hop around excited and happy.
He's one of the least fearful happiest dogs I've ever seen. Regrettably
Click image: "Sigourney Weaver and Friend"this isn't the best attitude for recovering from surgery but I prefer it. Easier to calm him down than to cheer someone else up.
I'd be very surprised if we had this foster very long at all. I hope long enough to train him just a little. I think he'd like to learn stuff.

I noticed this morning that my thumbs have improved. Their pain is slight. It only took 3 months to get there.
My left elbow is responding to the exercises. This morning it hurt terribly but I was able to lift up the kettle for coffee without fear of dropping. As I work it the pain subsides.
My right shoulder is getting worse. It responds to working but not for any significant amount of time. Its peculiar too in that there seem to be too many ways to start the agony. I'm more familiar with this neuropathic pain only killing me if I do a couple of different moves or from moving too quickly and hard.
This shoulder has that but it also seems to go berserk from almost anything. The pain is so bad that
Click images for desktop size: "After Magritte's Lovers" by Unknown it hurts almost constantly, never really calming down. Just sitting and then shifting my position can set it off. Its waking me up several times a night.
It still responds to exercise. I use a therapy rubber band and move it under tension when I feel the first twinge of pain I hold it for a count of 20 then repeat until the twinges stop. Doing this has at least let me localize the pain to an area about 1 inch beneath the shoulder point on the arm.
I might have to see the doctor about it. I hate spending the money. I hate hurting all the time. Funny I never get used to it. I seem to be hurting all the time anyway.

This weekend will be spent getting ready for Tuesday. On Tuesday I have to get to the doc's office to get training on how to inject myself with insulin (and the doc won't look at the shoulder - requires a separate visit and a separate charge) , then I have to go about two miles further down the road to drop off the lantus and Avrio script. Get home and finalize my speech to the parents meeting that evening.
I'm going to spend the weekend getting the dreaded e-bike back in running order. All the walking would take about 3 hours. I figure I can e-bike it in a about an hour! Just have to spring maintenance it and be set to go terrorize.
Meeting the parents of the team members is not an odious task. I figure that all the other coaches will babel on and on. Amateur coaches seem to either talk to much or be taciturn. My experience is that 3 pointed minutes will get the points I want across and be memorable. (Its my same logic that forces me to find songs over 3 minutes tedious).
I'm going to need assistant coaches. Most of them will come from the parents. I can make a lot of my points by asking for coaches and lining out what I expect and demand from a coach: No berating the players; correct, instruct and encourage only. The Understanding that no coach ever won a game and no player ever lost one. The willingness to learn from me about turning the young people into athletes who play this sport. That's about it.
I've reached that age where my resume is impressive on its own.
Then today I'm playing burly housewife. The joint is dog heaven but a bit too messy and dirt for human habitation. And the foster dog needs to go out for a bit.

Posted by David at 10:55 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Warriors" by Unknown The only fallout from putting my mobile phone through the washer and dryer seems to be the battery life. I have to recharge it every other day now. I'm impressed with Samsung.

The foster dog came home from the vet yesterday. When we picked him up he was groggy from the anesthesia. Had to lift him into the car sort of groggy.
When we got him home he urinated for about three minutes. Then defecated an astonishing amount, which pretty much confirmed my concerns about the vet's office not having a readily available exercise area.
All they did was neuter him. They didn't remove the double dew claws. It was relayed to us that the dew claws weren't particularly dangerous and removing them would cause him more grief than benefit.
I guess.
He got an odd reception from the other dogs. Giant dog who was adamant in his hostility before the vet was now seriously concerned for foster dog. Foster dog has to be segregated and kept still. Giant dog lay in an unusual position for him so he could look after foster dog through the grate.
Gentle dog, who previously had simply ignored the foster dog now expressed out right hostility. When my friend bought hi m in from a walk foster dog slipped his leash and made a bound for me, in a friendly way. Gentle dog stood up and unleashed a fierce snarl. I'd never heard gentle dog make a noise like that before.
I was pleased by his response. If he'd react that vocally to protect me, who he barely tolerates, I felt more secure about his ability to protect my friend, whom he adores, should the need ever arise.
Of course my puppy just continued to ignore him. She's consistent like that.
Foster dog is doing well.


Click images for desktop size: "Dog" by S4W Apparently I need to be clearer about the details of medical care in the USA. I lived a long time in the UK and had to use the National Health Service (NHS) which provides "free" medical care. Free via a payroll deduction similar but larger than the Medicare deduction taken in the US.
In Texas i was unemployed, broke, and starting a new job in 3 days when I got tonsillitis. I guessed that's what it was. I didn't know. There was no place to go to find out.
When my temperature neared 105 and the pain had kept me awake for two days I walked two miles plus to the nearest hospital emergency room. I waited in the waiting room for a couple hours then got sent to an examination room where I sat for a few more hours. A nurse came in looked at my throat and told me, "Wait here." That was all she said to me.
A bout an hour later some guy came in told me to drop my pants. He gave me shot and left.
I sat there for about another hour when a different nurse came in asked, "What are you doing here?" I croaked I didn't know. I was waiting to be told what to do. She closed the door and came back ten minutes later and told me I could go. I asked what was wrong with me. Finally she told me I had tonsillitis and the doctor had given me an antibiotic.
I left. Two days later I got a bill for about $1,800. Since I was already paying my Bells Palsy bill off from a different hospital at $25 bucks a week I was a little shook.
Now in England doctor's don't become wealthy only rich. You have to stop practicing medicine and become a consultant to get wealthy. In slow new seasons The Sun, England's biggest paper, will run an
Click images for desktop size: "Marilyn Monroe" expose of consultants making a million pounds a year by billing the NHS for 200 hours a week sixty one weeks a year. Everyone grumbles for a few minutes and then business continues as usual. In the UK you don't seriously mess with the wealthy.
Because of this there aren't quite enough doctors to go around. If you need one you have to register with a clinic. Your restricted to the clinics in your neighborhood and then restricted by whether the doctor has enough time to take you on as a patient. The doc's are limited by law as to how many they can take on to insure decent care.
I got stuck with a real croaker. An obscenely obese snob of a man who hated me for my accent. I hated him for hating me for my accent. It was a fine relationship.
I rarely saw him except for annual physicals. I never had to pay him anything. Then I started to feel a huge amount of fatigue and this creepy but not quite debilitating pain in my bones. It got to the point where it took a superhuman effort to get out of bed and dress. I just wanted to sit and stare. I
Click images for desktop size: "Tibal Girl" by Evgeney managed to never miss work. My friend (and boss) said I should see my doctor. I did. They ran some tests and the fat croaker told me I was just getting older. He gave me a script for some vitamins and told me to take paracetamol.
Filling the script cost me nothing too. I had to pay for the paracetamol because he didn't write me a script for it.
I didn't get better.
I had to take a business trip back to LA. I went and saw my old doctor. He wasn't in the same office anymore. He tagged up with one of those Medical Corporations. They ran the same tests. Word came back that I had leukemia,
We talked about treatments. They didn't tell me that it was close to a certainty that the chemo they wanted me to try would give me diabetes. He might have mentioned some damage to my kidneys. You'd have to be tougher than I am to pay real close attention to those sort of details.
When asked the only question I could think of was the same one that we all know about, "Will I lose my hair?"
He said, maybe not and that it almost always grows back. He never mentioned the fact that I'd have to look n the mirror everyday and see myself dying. It was during that time that for the first time in my life I wished I was only just getting older. I never imagined being old.
Its the stuff the doc's don't tell you that can kill you.
I guess they've stopped doing it. Chemo used to have support groups built into the treatment. Probably the insurance companies put a stop to them. Can't have people comparing notes about costs and they were expensive. I can see Blue Cross saying, We have to keep them alive. We don't have to make them happy," and canceling approval for the support groups. With the ay your going broke paying for your share of the chmo talking about it doesn't make sense to take on as an out of pocket expense.
I learned more from the other patients then I ever did from the shrink in charge of it anyway.
I've been through four chemo's. All the doctors made it a point that I had to do this NOW! The only
Click images for desktop size: "Unforgettable Autumn" by Unknown way to make a decision was from what they did or didn't tell you. Like I had six teeth pulled recently. It was most likely caused by the second trial (chemo word for an experimental cutting edge treatment that looks like it might work). Its a known side effect. They might not have even known that at the exact time. Even if they had they may or may not have told me about it. The doc's like to give you a 5,000 word pamphlet and let you discover this stuff for yourself but give your consent now.
The only doctor who treated me like a person and not a patient object was the volunteer doc, my last one. He could have been off getting rich but he felt the need to give back to his community. I still think of him as a friend first and a doc second. He explained a lot of my past and present situation to me. Th medical junk. He even took the time to try and get me to understand. And because he was free of charge he was a lot busier than the guys charging a hundred and fifty buck minimum for an office visit, but he still took the time.
I just think we all need a chance to understand what they're doing to us so we can see and make a better decision than we do when getting our car repaired.

Now I have to take care of my foster dog and the dynamic duo. Gentle dog got to go to work with my friend. He was ecstatic. Giant dog is so jealous. He's so put upon.

Posted by David at 11:02 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Steve Argyle Yesterday was filled with nothing else but dogs. Giant dog has decided that the foster dog is okay so long as he is playing with him and not with giant dog's toys.
Foster dog would bring toys to me to throw and drop them in my lap. I would reach for them and discover that giant dog, who was sitting next to me, had deftly removed them. He was holding them angrily between his paws. Foster dog just went and got new ones. At one stage giant dog was holding three toys between his paws. He glared at me in case I had any funny ideas.
Even my puppy got slightly less disdainful. She initiated play. Of course the play was her game and could only be played by her rules.
When giant dog would play bound at foster dog gentle dog would join in by attacking giant dog! And then foster dog had to go to the vet.
If ever a dog needed a trip to the vet . . . doesn't make it easier. He was a pain. There was an unfixed female beagle at the vet's office. He was uncontrollable. I took him outside. This is the rescue service's vet so we had no choice, but I soon saw that there was no exercise area. No grass at all except the little patch we were standing on, and that little patch was next to the highway. Cars went by too fast for me to be comfortable.
I wouldn't have left my dog there.
Foster dog is going to be fixed, shot up and the have his dew claws removed. He has the ugliest dew claws I've ever seen on a dog. I'm amazed that he hasn't hurt himself before this. They have to be removed. The healing process is long. Three weeks minimum. He'll have to be crated and carried around some.
Poor guy. He's still one of the happiest dogs I've ever seen. His life has been pretty miserable but he keeps playing and laughing. He keeps the world shaped in his image. I admire that. I hope he keeps his attitude after all this surgery.

Click images for desktop size: "The Last Supper" by Da Vinci This surgery will make his life better but I always wonder if it will be worth it if he loses that gift of changing the world to his own joyous view.
Its one of the reason I go on so much about my health issues.
When the doctor's tell you some bad news, you got this or that brand of cancer for example, and then detail the available cures they always seem to do it in a rush. When you ask for details they get brusque, especially about the side effects.
Something like, "You've got lympho ballistic leukemia. No big deal its curable."
In my case it took over seven years to cure. I've been cured, or at least in remission for nearly two years. I've often felt like giving up, even recently. But I don't regret still being alive. No matter how low I've fallen or how despair filled things have often seemed. When it comes to doctor's and scuzzy insurance companies sucking up my money (This policy cover 100% of all costs of normal and average acceptable fees as decided by us you will be responsible for any additional charges as decided by your service provider.
Its been worth it to me. I have my puppy and I have my friend. I like the world well enough, I stubborn enough to enjoy things like music and songs and stories.
Its been worth it to me but it might not be worth it to someone else. When the doctor says, "I won't lie to you," or "I'm not going to sugar coat it," its safe to assume that he's going to enjoy being brutal, he won't discuss things so you can have a clear idea of what's in front of you, and that he's been pretty much misleading you in things up till then.
Most people will be empathetic at first but they don't know how to act. Most of us don't much like confronting mortality. I sure don't. I
Click images for desktop size: "The Bride of Frankenstein" always planned to be immortal, spitting into microphones, running down fields while opponents tripped over their own feet trying to catch me with all the dogs who've ever lived with me cheering me on from the stands or the mosh pit.
When they find out your ill people shut it out of their front brain and work hard to drive it out of their back brain too. The light we see blinds us to all but itself.
They get dismissive or they avoid you. Or worse, they suck it up so every meeting becomes more a confrontation than a casual conversation. Your mind's not working great either. You can't ignore the moments of self pity where you won't like yourself very much either.
I was kind of lucky and people really couldn't notice. I'm pretty dour anyway. In almost any relationship there would come a point would someone would look at me a bit amazed and say, "I never realized it before, your really a pretty funny guy, like you tell a lot of jokes. I never knew you were joking!"
The only difference for me is that they stopped saying that.
I think, no, I know that people need to know what's in front of them. They don't need to know the
Click images for desktop size: "Taoist Immortals" by Fûgai Honko future but they have to know enough to make a decision they can live with, not live happily maybe but they have to see some joy out there at the end of it all.
Steve McQueen went through it all, even ended up in Mexico swallowing extract of peach pit (Laetrile) while two people I know killed themselves. One by driving head on into a fire truck that was enroute to a fire.
I miss them all but there's no choice but to respect their decisions even if you regret their choices.
That's all.

I've listened to the new Bob Dylan, "Together for Life" and the New Neil Young, "Fork in the Road".
I like Neil Young. Everybody has had to sit through my Neil Young story. (Maybe that should be Neil Young Story - keep it capitalized so it enters myth). Me and my buddies hid on a hill at Point Dume and watched them build Bob Dylan's house and got a rush when we saw Roger McQuinn, even ran down the hill to talk to him.
I still listen to their stuff, their old stuff.
Because I loved their old stuff so much I probably took it harder and more personally that I think this new tuff absolutely sucks. Too old, too used to a life of riches and wealth. Young at least seems to try and understand what's going on in the world. He even has feeling for it but its not there in the music.
Dylan has lived in the legend cocoon so long that he's forgotten what it means to be human, to be angry and sad. He writes about heartburn like it was heartbreak.
It makes me sad.
What cheered me was re-watching "Hustle and Flow" as I did the usual household chores. An old movie but still the best film ever about creating music. It works from points of extremity and hyperbole. Music does. What I keep finding touching is the fact that the people here are all dreaming and reaching for that dream and in struggling for it they regain the humanity that the world has sought to pull out of them. All the other movies that tried to tell this story forgot about the human part, they wasted my time telling me about being an inhuman legend.
Time to take the dogs for their walk.
Next week I have to meet the parents of the players of my team. I have to prepare a three minute speech about what to expect from me and what I want from them so that we can build their children into something the children can be proud of. And I have to do this while I'm laughing at the latest dog jokes. Then I have to get ready for poor foster dog to come back to his home.

Posted by David at 10:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Sky 1" by Ausencia This weekend was as busy as I figured. My body is still in rebellion. Lots of pain from the usual suspects.
Sometimes I wish I got a little sympathy for the hurting. I'd probably resent that too. You can't win with me, or, as I prefer, I can't lose.

Saturday started too early. My friend and I arrived at the football equipment locker. We weren't the very first ones there.
My friend got to sit at a table and do all the paperwork, registering the new kids. A rough enough job that I was glad to avoid.

Click images for desktop size: "Snow Fun" by NFL Films I got stuck doing shoulder pads and fitting game jerseys. That devolved as some guys showed up late or not at all. Normal stuff. They got a couple of players to fit shoulder pads. I fit jerseys and double checked the shoulder pad fittings. I only had to swap out a half dozen sets of pads so the kids did alright.
Fitting game jerseys is a real pain. Game jerseys are ultra tight. Lot of reasons for this; being tight the help compress the shoulder pads increasing protection slightly and also enabling the player to hit with more impact. Tight jerseys make it easier for referee's to see holding. The jerseys are so tight that if a ref sees a player's jersey being pulled its obvious that this is far from incidental contact. It also helps protect the player from actually being held and unfairly impeded.
And tight jerseys look great.
My method of getting on a jersey is to put them on the pads first and then put the jerseys and pads on as a unit.
That's too pokey for this sort of deal. There was only one jersey of each size. The new jerseys would be ordered based on my measurements. That means I had to put the jersey on each kid and then
Click images for desktop size: "Sinister" by Yasushi Nirasawa take it off.
The quickest way was to roll the jersey up from the bottom, have the kid slip his arms through, up to the elbow. I soon learned to tell ALL the kids to put their arms through the arm holes and not the neck hole. With the jersey on the arms the kid has to raise his head and arms to get his head through. Then I reach around behind them and pull the jersey over the pads and down.
I nearly choked out half a dozen kids . . . I'd then straighten the jersey and check it. The real grief was when I'd eye balled the wrong size and had to re-fit the kid twice (once it required 3 fittings, and one took four).
I also learned to tell the kids to stand strong when I was pulling the jersey, I still dragged about a dozen of them to their knees.
Getting the jersey off is worse. I have the kids pull one of their arms free then I pull the jersey loose from the pads then have them pull the jersey from the side over their noggins. The jersey then just falls off the other arm.
I didn't keep track but I probably fitted close to 200 kids.
I was on my feet for 8 solid hours doing this. If I was getting paid $7.50 an hour I'd have quit after the first hour and demanded my check. For twenty an hour I'd not have ever gone back and I'd have complained bitterly about no coffee breaks. For free I didn't mind it. My friend felt the same way.
I tore four of my weak nails. My hands didn't start cramping badly until 6 hours into it. I think its interesting that my hands cramp up after 15 or 20 minutes playing guitar. So logic says that guitar playing is 24 times harder than pulling kit around on kids.
I liked meeting the kids and having my brief chats with them and the parents. I felt there was a slightly higher percentage of parents who were in this for the right reasons, slightly higher than usual. Not at the cost of the parents into it for the wrong reason. There seemed to be fewer indifferent ones though. That's a nice positive.
Another nice positive was that they provided pizza for lunch. Eat on your feet thing. I asked them if they could order from this one pizza joint because they have a gluten free pizza that my friend could have. I was originally told no, they had reasons for that, acceptable reasons. Then they ordered from the same pizza joint I asked for because my request was more important to them than the reasons. EXCEPT they forgot the reason was to get a gluten
Click images for desktop size: "Evening Chant" by Unknown free pizza for my friend. Amusing unless you're my friend who got no pizza!
There were 5 coaches I noted who scarfed down free pizza but never seemed to work with any kids . . . made the note to not let them near any of the kids on my team.
As soon as I'd sent the last kid out the door my friend and I hoped in the car to go pick up the foster dog.
He was being held by this really sweet couple. New dog is a big happy goof, totally bewildered by everything that's happened to him he embraces his confusion by laughing and playing until the scary parts go away.
Its pretty obvious that he lived for a while where he was loved but badly cared for. He's not neutered, his dew claws are dangerously long. He sort of knows a few commands. I think the family abandoned him. He was found wandering in the woods. Kept in a dog pound for a couple of months. Put on death's row, then thrown into a car and driven away, then another car, then a home for a few hours and finally ends up here.
He's smart, scared, confused and happy. The food they gave us for him is too rich after dog pound grub - diarrhea and vomiting. Because he's not neutered giant dog hates him, my puppy has made it clear he's not to invade her personal space and gentle dog endures him because gentle dog is gentle dog.
All he wants is to play and be told its all okay.
His trip continues tonight when he has to go to the vet to get neutered, dew claws removed and all other vetting. It irks me no end that the pound couldn't do even these simple things to make his life easier. The idea of its wasted money on a dog they had slated to die doesn't cut it. Would you deprive a cancer victim of pain killers?
He's going to make someone a fine dog. He'll make them laugh. He's learning simple commands but still has a hard time concentrating. He'll be fine.
Sunday was the eagerly anticipated dog walk.
It was a bust. Highly disappointing. All the more so because there's no one to blame. I'd really have liked someone to blame.

Click images for desktop size: "Surf" by Unknown The dog walk is normally at this gorgeous hotel grounds. Some guest must have seen that there was to be a dog walk and thrown a fit about loose dogs ruining her holiday.
This was last second. To the hotels credit they did not forbid use of their grounds. They have something like 300 acres. They just set up a different trail for the walk but THEY INSISTED ALL DOGS BE LEASHED!
In today's economy I can understand them not telling the rich guest to go to hell. The trail they set up was horrid. Dirty, hot. We had to walk through about a half mile of loose dirt and wood chips stepping in the tractor tread marks and depressions.
It would have been okay if the dogs were running loose and making friends. This was just a walk that we could have done better at any of a dozen places.

The dogs still enjoyed it.
My friend's assistant from work bought her dog along. He was great. I was sad that the great adventure we had promised her had devolved into something bland.
She and her dog came home with us and new dog and assistant dog played incredibly hard and rough. It almost made the shambolic day worthwhile, for me at least.
My friend and I were both fatigued. I think she was as glad I was there as I was glad she was there.
Things seem to work out better that way.

Posted by David at 10:58 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Love Like This" by Lavakillu This weekend suddenly got busy. In a nice way.
Saturday I have eight hours of kit fitting for kids 13 and under. I volunteered my friend to do registration (paperwork) for the kids. The foster puppy will arrive in the area on Saturday morning.
Lots of logistics, kennels to set up, food dishes to shift about. Then the decision on whether the new comer will be up to doing the dog walk on Sunday.
Not a bad time at all unless they stick me on 8 hours of fitting kids for helmets . . . shoulder pads are a lot easier and quicker. Pants and girdles are the easiest. I've got a feeling I'll be doing a lot of helmets . . .

My friend says I was pretty upset Monday about the doctor. She also thinks she understands the doc thinking I was going to slug him.
I didn't feel upset. A little bit down probably. I thought I was being as gentle with the doc as I could be.
Maybe I hide this kind of stuff from myself but not from her. Possible.
One thing that does upset me is Joe Biden appearing at the MPAA dinner. Biden went as the Vice President. He got a standing ovation for calling kids who download music and movies from the internet "thieves".
This is just another step towards Obama's campaign to criminalize kids sharing music.
Criminalizing downloading will save the RIAA and the MPAA serious money. They won't have to hire scum bag PI firms to hack innocent people's computers searching for "illegal" stuff. They'll have the FBI do it for them. I doubt that the FBI will even have to get a warrant to do this. In the UK they're already forcing the ISP's to keep all the logs of everything anyone does on the internet. So do we.
Click images for desktop size: "London Streets 1888" by TitusBoy Bush's lie was that it was to root out all those millions of terrorists. Nothing political about it they claim. Nobody would ever misuse all this data.
Obviously the FBI has done such a stellar job of removing crime that they have plenty of excess time to go trolling for 14 year olds scarfing down the top 40.
Then the rich jerks would save even more money. They wouldn't have to hire sleazy ambulance chaser lawyers, the US Attorney's office will prosecute the kids. Obama's hired the scummiest of them to train the rest in being even a purer distilled kind of scum. They'll get the kids jail time, probation time. Those services are all standing empty. The US Attorney has locked away all the rapists, child abusers etc and the prisons must be standing empty because everyone has been rehabilitated. Probation officers must be facing being laid off. (Of course America leads the world in having the largest percentage of its population in prison, we must be trying to beat our own record).
And then the RIAA and MPAA can then ask the judge to award them money for the serious damage these children have done to their business. At twenty bucks a track times a billion or some other wretched formula. Obama himself puts the damage at $350,000 a track. Rah!
When Obama gets his law passed criminalizing the kids I'll boycott every rich musician who doesn't sign off of the RIAA. Like rich guys like Tony Bennett who shockingly claims he isn't rich enough and wants to squeeze even more money out of people who just want to
Click images for desktop size: "La Liseuse" by Fragonard listen to music.
This really bugs me. If I buy a car and loan it to a friend for the weekend this logic would make me a criminal.
According to the RIAA and the MPAA when I lay down my twenty bucks I haven't bought anything. I don't own the CD or the DVD they do. I can't tape it or make a digital copy of it or let my friends hear it, play it at parties. Blockbuster can charge me to borrow it but I can't loan it for free. I don't know why. Neither do they. They just want all the money for the least amount of money.
They claim that me loaning my CD to a friend costs them thousands of dollars. They're losing money! Well, not losing money just making a bit less but they want it all: No Compromise. Sales aren't dropping becasue we're churning out cruddy product its becasue I think I own something I paid them for.
Silliness that they've spent billions during the last 60 years to turn into law. Unfairness. The rich bullying the poor.
I wish I'd voted for McCain. Not that he'd have been any better but I figure he'd been inept at getting
Click images for desktop size: "Los in a Bad World" by Unknown this stuff done. He wouldn't have the same deadly proficency that Obama has.
McCain would have hacked off our allies, like Canada, with the same stupidity and ignorance but he'd have been laughed at more than seen as real and threatening.
The comfort of incompetence.

There is something going on out there. I saw this video that I think everyone else in the world has already seen. Its just a little music thing. You can click here to see the YouTube version of this bunch of guys all over the world doing "Stand By Me".
Its exciting and unexpected. It reminds me of why I wanted to play music. Getting rich would have been nice but mainly I wanted to make a joyful noise. I wanted to make people dance. I wanted to be heard. It looks like these guys have the same idea. Its a great mammouth effort. I'm buying the CD becasue the RIAA has nothing to do with them and the music is sweet.

Posted by David at 10:34 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Grand Central Station" by Ian Foster Yesterday was bright and sunny. It reached 80.
Today it is 57 and pouring ice cold rain.

I took the dogs out for a shortish walk. Every person who was walking a dog got an advert from me telling them about the wonderful dog walk on Sunday. I started the pitch with the off the wall info that this place is so beautiful that they charge a hundred grand to have a wedding there!
I wonder if anyone of them will show. Their dogs would love it.
I walked the 5 miles to the doctor's office in 43 minutes. It would not have been as fast if I had the dogs with me but it would have been more memorable.
Click images for desktop size: "The Jolie Family"
It was hot and I was sweaty. From the reaction and movement of the other waiting patients they must have figured I had swine flu. Anyway it got me into an examination room in record time.
While I waited for the doc I had time to read an entire book! It was "Diabetes for Dummies". Interesting franchise. They seem determined to provide instruction for everything.
The doc came in in a rush. He was nervous about something. The man has no chin. Where his chin would have been was quivering. He asked a couple of unimportant although mildly pertinent questions, clearly to calm himself down. He was so nervous I tried to be relaxing.
He sucked it up and then just plunged into it. He pulled up my blood tests. He explained them so fast I couldn't follow anything he said. When I asked for clarification he didn't get much calmer.
The hardest part for him was that my diabetes was out of control. The pills (metformin) that sensitizes my body to insulin was still working fine but the pill that forces my pancreas to produce more insulin was not. My pancreas was producing almost no insulin. Time for me to go on the needle.
He flinched when he said it. As if he was afraid I was going to slug him. I still had the dark glasses
Click images for desktop size: "In Like Flint" by JW McGinnis on and I was certain that I had my normal blank poker face on so he must have been reacting to something deep inside himself. "I'm afraid you're going to have to start doing injections. It's only one a night. The needles are so thin they don't really hurt. Honest." He said it all in a rush then rared back in his chair pulling as far away from me as he could.
While pulled back he continued, "And there's albumen in your urine. The chemo damage to your kidneys is degenerating. You'll have to take some pills for that. Apropo, no, Avisio for them. To protect them more than anything."
I pulled my chair closer so I could see his computer screen more clearly.
"Boy, my bad cholesterol is super low, isn't it. Sixty really good isn't it?"
"Yes, but your good cholesterol is far too low. The proportion is bad. You seem awfully calm about all this?"
"I kind of knew this was coming. One day. Not happy about it but . . . It will it be Lantus? Is that the insulin injection?"
"Yes. Lantus. I'm putting you on 100 units a day. Increasing it by 10 units a day until the blood sugars get under control. The Lantus could cause further damage to your kidneys."
"I got my dialysis in my future?"
He fumbled before he said, "Most people don't need dialysis even after years of Lantus. You can't promise anything though."
All I could do was nod. He took my blood pressure while he went on to explain all the new procedures and things I'd have to fit into my new daily routine. And all the arcane cabalic rituals I'd have to undertake before I could fill my new prescriptions. One of them is I have to meet with the staff pharmacist. Not to fill the scripts but to have the rules explained to me and to show me how to inject myself. A pharmacist?
My blood pressure was 120 over 60. I was expecting it to be through the roof but it was the best its been in six weeks. I have not the slightest idea what that signifies. The doc ignored my question about it.
So after I start taking the injections I have to check my blood sugars 3 to 5 times a day. That means bleeding 3 to 5 times a day. Two weeks after I start I have to do another blood panel. Two weeks after that I have to go back in and see the doc.
The money for all this worries me the most.
I don't know how I feel about all this. Not happy. Not too upset. Just the grim inevitability of it all. Not even paranoid.

Click images for desktop size: "2009 USC Football" More pills, plus injections plus more blood work is a pretty worst case scenario but at least I ain't dead. I figure bad news here means I'm owed some good luck over there.
I walked home. A lot slower. I passed some youngish girls walking dogs. I figured that a sweaty man wearing shades and ear buds might not come across right so I didn't tell them about the dog walk on Sunday. I wanted to.
On the way home I stopped at the bakery to get some of the cheaper but superior bread and some Halvarti with Jalapeno cheese. The bakery was uncomfortably warm. There was an irate guy there holding a screaming baby. He was shouting at the little old ladies who work there. It seems he ordered some rolls that he was supposed to pick up on Sunday. He didn't. They sold them to someone else. He had it in his head that once he ordered them they belonged to him and they should have held on to them. He hadn't called and told them this. He hadn't paid them anything.
He kept getting louder. The baby kept getting louder and the little old ladies looked warm, uncomfortable and frightened.
I was pretty calm and suggested he go outside for a minute and let the baby cool down. He spun on me. I had about five inches on him and I wasn't holding a baby. He took my well meaning advice.
The little old lady thanked me. I said, "For what?"
She said, "I wish Mr Giant Dog had been here! Hem must be so comforting to you."
I explained that the dogs were at home. I never thought of Giant Dog as being comforting, at least not in the way she meant.
At home my friend and I watched another Doris Day movie, "It Happened to Jane". It wasn't very good. The situation was too real to be silly. Jack Lemmon had a good monologue and Kippy's dad Ernie Kovacs, was pretty much wasted. First totally duff Doris Day movie we've watched together. Next up will be "A Touch of Mink" with Day and Cary Grant. Rah!
My friend was beat after her day but she still offered up a lot of sympathy and support. I don't think she appreciated that I'd rather think about the dog walk and kitting up the kids on Saturday.
No problem is so big it can't be ignored.

Posted by David at 10:34 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Carp" by Unknown It was a pretty unexciting Sunday. But pleasant. I'd forgotten that time can sometimes just be a pleasant thing to just see pass. There aren't ever enough of these moments. I often forget to treasure them. Times where life is just content. It will be short lived and can't be sensibly ignored or taken for granted.
After the bad storms the clouds passed and the sun came out. We drove to the Indian Reservation, did some more light grocery shopping and went to Taco Bell. My friend loves their hard shell vegetarian tacos. I got a bean burrito and a "Beefy Cheesy Melt". Since everything else was vegetarian someone took it upon themselves to make my Melt Beefy-less. It was fine, They made up for the lack of meat by using extra rice. Rice was what I was craving anyway.
When we got back home it was nice enough to sit outside with the dogs. The dogs love me but my friend is "The Mom". Her being outside set them into joyous doggie paroxysms. Like me dogs seldom express joy by sitting still in quiet contentment.
My puppy played with her Kong and pressed it against my friends leg. My friend didn't understand that this meant you were supposed to try and steal it from my puppy. The giant dog bought out one of his squeaky toys and just drove us nuts with that. The gentle dog was the happiest and most active of the bunch. His way of expressing his joy is to bite me. Not painfully, he likes to grab hold of my wrist and just hang on. For whatever canine reason this puts him into a state approaching nirvana.
Clearly no side effects to Saturday's vet visit.
That evening we watched the Doris Day, Clark Gable movie "Teacher's Pet". I discovered that my
Click images for desktop size: "Midnight Worries" by Unknown friend is a budding Doris Day fan. She even knows facts about her! I'd never seen more than bits and pieces of the movie before and was surprised at just how good it was. Plenty of surprises and plenty of laughs with just a tinge of bathos, just enough to make you think you were seeing something more worthwhile than an entertainment.
Good movie.
We watched an episode of "Kung Fu". We'd fallen off the ritual. I hold that it was because the last few had been so dire. This one was good. For one thing it had the genius that is Keye Luke in it for even the briefest spell. Even a small amount of Keye Luke is enough to make anything taste better. The episode was "The Arrogant Dragon". Carradine was very effective even though his fighting skill still stinks, his acting ability was clicking at a high level. High enough to hide some bad plot holes and some uncomfortable sexual tension. And my old buddy Jimmy Hong got to play a rat!
What I liked most was the careful acknowledgment of Chinese history. It was surprising and welcome even if scant. Basically they acknowledged the birth of the Tongs as being a result of the Manchu's burning of the Shaolin Temple.
Today I've got my doctor's appointment. I called this morning and they've got my blood test results. I'm out of excuses. I have to get my home test results diary into a readable-by-others shape. This morning my blood pressure was 140 over 90. About ten points higher than is considered safe and about 20 points higher than sis safe for first thing in the morning.
I'm hoping that this can be addressed just through diet. I don't want
Click images for desktop size: "Stevie Wonder" to take any more pills. I want no more pills worse than I want to be able to stop restricting my diet any further. My fat intake is already restricted to 45 grams per day, no sugar, no pork etc. I guess coffee and salt are next on the list.
My blood sugars have been running on the high side of acceptable. Within the parameters. There's a chance I might have to deal with that. I get amazed that my diet has to be so restrictive. I know an older diabetic here, on insulin injections, and I had breakfast with him. He had bacon and eggs! BACON! Sometimes its hard to remember that my diet is restricted as much by the chemo's and their after effects as they are by the diabetes. As much as I don't want more pills I want injections even less. So it goes, Diet, More Pills, Injections in my order of preferences. And I really want none of them.
Next Saturday I have to spend 8 hours kitting out kids. I roped my friend in for 4 hours of registering the kids. Paperwork . . . I'm still pleased she'll be there for part of the day.

Click images for desktop size: "Hot Air Balloons" by Unknown Then on Sunday will be the spring dog walk!!
There is little on the appointment calendar that is as much fun as the dog walk, for me and the dogs. This will be the packs third one!

Even though the door is open to the pretty day my puppy has chosen to spend this time inside wrapped around my feet.
I love my puppy. Its nice that its reciprocated. Nicer to know she's not mad about the diet. I've cut all her food in half. She seems no hungrier than usual and she's always hungry.

Congrats to the Men of Troy. Eleven players taken in the NFL draft and 3 of them in the first round! Then Tony Dungy saying that a kid would be crazy not to attend USC becasue SOuthern California is the school that gives you the best chance to succeed!! YOW!

Posted by David at 10:25 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Dolphin" by AdaptD Took the dogs to the vet yesterday. Everything was fine, except the charges.
I was proud of all three dogs. My puppy did her sterling best to endure what she sees as a horrible torture. They drew blood. No heart worm, no lyme disease etc.
The only negative was that she's still overweight. Not obscenely so but enough to be concerned. I don't want her to die early or to be in terrible pain when she's older because she's fat. I don't quite now what to do. She's on a perpetual diet, she gets tons of exercise, 1-2 hour walk every weekday, she runs herself ragged in the yard, but she's overweight and I have to do something. I'll figure it out.
My puppy has now been microchipped. She thinks this means she is now bionic.
The gentle dog was sort of amazing. When the vet was drawing blood he rested his head on my fiends lap and smiled up at her so bravely. When it was time for his stomach to be palpitated he put his feet up on the bench to make it easier for the vet.
And then the giant dog . . . at first he wouldn't get on the scale. Soon discovered why. He weighs nearly 100 pounds!! He's still thin. This is still too large to be a lap dog, which is what he thinks he
Click images for desktop size: "Girl's Day" by Vii Lid is. When I consider how many times I've had to lift him up to move him from where he wanted to be to where I wanted him to be the deadly pain in my shoulder makes sense.
When the vet drew his blood for his test he nearly fainted . . . He endured the rest of the needles and poking with fear but since I was prepared for him to come bursting through the wall leaving one of those Wile E. Coyote silhouettes behind him I'm even prouder of him trying to be so brave.
We discovered that giant dog actually has a designation within his breed. He's a Royal Standard . . . Since my puppy demands she is Queen of all she surveys the air now seems rife for regal conspiracies, coups and intrigues.
We got a preview of our life to come. To celebrate the good behaviour of the entire pack we took them to get ice cream! I also figured this would be my puppies last treat for a long time.
While waiting for my friend to bring out the ice cream we stood in front and ended up chatting with a few people who were fascinated by the three dogs.
My friend bought out the three cups of 2 buck ice cream. She gave my puppy her cup first because that's just the way its done. My puppy gave her ice cream a lick, to claim it obviously and then went over to steal the giant dogs cup! She was laughing and clearly thought this was just the first step to showing who the Royalty was in this house.
When we got home everyone was calm and easy. We went out and did some light grocery shopping. We've finally sworn off the mega
Click images for desktop size: "Gary Cooper" chain grocery store. Not only is the store one of the most oppressive atmospheres I've ever encountered, all mega clean sweat shop and greenish fluorescent lights hung from too high but they've stopped carrying the final product we could only get from them.
We got home in time for some incredible winds. I watched some of the trees bend 45 degrees beneath it. Then came the thunder, the lightening and the rain. Surprisingly the lights and electricity never died. I was anticipating it.
Gentle dog was unhappy about this. HE was on his love seat lying rigid with fear, his eyes wide open. He followed me trying to merely survive in a fear induced zombie trance.
My friend gave him some of that natural tension releaser med. I don't think it cut much through gentle dog's fear. He was locked into this scary rigor for a few hours. What snapped him out of it was the stupid cat.
I'd left the door open. It was warm. My friend said the terrible storm was because it had gotten so warm too quickly . . . This may be accurate and true but is still the dumbest thing I've ever heard. How can it possibly get warm TOO quickly!
For some reason the stupid cat decided to come into the house. She was dry! Gentle dog saw her and took off after her, chasing her right out of the house! He calmed down immediately after that
Click images for desktop size: "From the Age of Fables" by Giovanni Caselli which proves something I guess. At least it shows that for animals hatred is greater than fear.
My friend bought the stupid cat inside and gentle dog ignored her, he'd proven his point. He went back to his quiet gentle animosity and decided he could tackle the world and went back to normal!
I fell asleep on the sofa watching a John Liu movie (bad movie but Liu is still probably the greatest leg fighter ever). Woke up at midnight when my shoulder jolted me out of sleep. Found giant dog was sleeping on top of me. Went to bed about midnight. Combination of snuffling dogs and my shoulder woke me at 4 A.M. I let the dogs out. They stayed out for half an hour. Shoulder aching so decided to stay up.
Doctor tomorrow. I'm going to mention the shoulder even though I know all he'll do is either prescribe a neuropathic pain killer, that I won't take, or refer me to a specialist that I can't afford.

Posted by David at 6:56 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Colorful Variants" by Unknown The meeting last night was fine. Meeting the other coaches was interesting. For the most part it was pretty boring. Not boring to the point of me falling asleep or even to attempting to balance my pen on my nose. Those are things I've done at most meetings. I won't delineate the things I've done that I got away with. I've been in too many of these meetings. Even if they are essential - too many.
From what I saw all the coaches are in it for pretty much the right reasons, for the kids and not to be "the boss". I didn't pick up on any of them having the calling to coaching. They seemed to be in it for the fun, which is possibly the best reason of all.
There were a couple who seemed to have that militaristic thing going but I doubt if its too deeply ingrained. I also doubt that they're into it to the point of berating players for their own shortcomings.
The only scary part came because of of question I asked before the meeting. The question was taken as a suggestion that was seized upon. It had to do with terminology.
Football is loaded with jargon. Middle linebackers are called mike backs or just mike, outside linebackers have become sam bakers and willie backs. Sam after s which stands for strong side (the
Click image: "Castle and Diana" by DC and Marvel Comics side the tight end lines up on) and W for weak side linebacker. And those are the more sensible bits of jargon.
All I wanted to do was get on the same page as the the team on the next level. Use the same jargon, the same passing tree and teach the same base package.
The passing tree is just a stick drawing based on a single long line, which represents the fly route-go long- with little branches shooting off representing the different passing routes. They're usually pretty much the same but they can get different names and/or numbers.
The base package are your bread and butter plays. Almost always they start off with the belly plays, the fullback dive up the middle and grows from there. You teach the kids the base package so they learn the fundamentals of execution and then you build your offense around and from them. It possible to go through a season and never actually run any of your base plays. I use them for education primarily.
Taking these elements from the next level gives the kids an edge when they move along. If I called the linebackers bodacious backs when they graduated to the next level they'd stand on the field bewildered when their new coach asked them play willie back instead of just getting into position.
I forgot the level of coaches I was dealing with. Their was an argument about numbering the holes (right are numbered odd, left numbered even or vice versa) and the passing routes (even in routes odd for out routes). We never got to even discussing base
Click image: "Fashion, Sex and Politics" by S4W packages.
Even though there was an argument it wasn't as violent as a lot I've had to sit on. I had nothing to say. There was no place in that sort of discussion for me to even have an opinion.
It went on from there. The most salient point for me was that I'd have to come up with my own assistants. I need a Defensive Coordinator. All I know about defense is that they always seem to get in the way of my carefully crafted offense!
I've always had top ranked defenses mainly because I've had great DC's and I am glad to stay out of their way. I can coach Defense but I'm not the best at it. I'll still make the occasional suggestion, usually based on what a D will do that really annoys me i.e. it proves to be very effective.
The other great bit is that they told me what I'd get in my coaches kit bag. An agility ladder!! My most favorite tool. Agility hurdles! The rest is pretty bog standard stuff. I have to buy my own whistles. They don't understand that is dangerous. I like to present a front that the kids expect and feel confident in, after that I like to use goofy whistles, bird whistles loopy whistles, things that be heard but get a laugh. I copped the idea from Preston Sturges and his idea of always directing films while wearing a silly hat.

Click images for desktop size: "Landscape" by Del Sil I have to go help the kids kit on May 2nd. EIGHT HOURS! I've already specified I won't do eight hours of helmet fittings. I think they've plenty of guys who can do it as well if not better than I can. Its the most tedious job though and takes time so everybody tries to sidestep it as much as possible. They figure to kit out about 300 kids over the weekend!
Still, I'm looking forward to meeting the kids and looking forward to the day.

It looks like we will have our foster dog on Saturday! Saturday will be a manic day. Our dogs go to the vet at 10 and then we have to buy dog food, a major undertaking.
This will be a different dog then the one we were originally going to home. Its my only complaint, this constant shifting around. Going from one dog to another. Its a minor quibble. I've tried to put myself in the dog coordinators place and while I can't quite get there I'm sure there's a lot of pressure trying to figure out what dogs can be saved (all of them) and in which dog the dogs can flourish and have the best shot at finding a forever home.
Yeah, mines an incredibly minor quibble.
Last night, when I went to the coaches meeting, the dogs were pretty chilled about it. This morning my friend had to go out of town for one of her money earning meetings - her job - when I went out to open the gate for her the dogs started a horrible pathetic howling and crying. I guess we're only allowed to abandon them once in a 24 hour period. They were pretty happy when I walked back in.
Its rough to figure out how the pack is going to respond to a new number. As individual dogs I don't see any personal issues, but as a group its a hard read.
The breeds seem to include the same no problem status. Especially since there's little question that they perceive me as the leader. They'll accept a newcomer if I do.
Giant dog will be the most difficult. He already thinks the other two take more than there share of the love, love that should all belong to him!
He'll settle in well enough. He always does.
So the only real issue will be how the new guy relates to belonging here. We have to take him to the vet on Wednesday. The break will do a lot to sort out issues in his mind. He'll come back overjoyed.

Posted by David at 9:28 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "A Day in the Park" by George Serault It's been a pretty eventual set of days. Shape shifting days. All for the good, I think.
The biopsy came back. It was negative.
That's pretty good. Pretty good. That puts my remission at just shy of 21 months. That's the longest remission I've ever had. I guess that makes me a record holder.
After the trek to the oral surgeon and that bit of news my friend dropped me at the blood lab. I was feeling light headed from the fast and absolute lack of coffee. They took 6 little tubes and one big one. Then the creepy urine sample.
I was talking to the blood taker. She was slick and professional but
Click images for desktop size: "Buck Owens" seemed a touch preoccupied. She's being tested for Hodgkins Disease.
Not a pleasant future, Hodgkins Disease. I said a few consoling words but cut myself short when I flashed at how I felt about "comforting words".
She made a point of saying goodbye to me so I guess its alright.
After giving up the blood I broke the fast with a cup of coffee. Made me feel better, at least I felt that I could make the walk home.
On the walk I ran into a guy. About my first day in town I ran into him before. He was out walking his dog and slipped. Busted his head open pretty good. That day I would have walked past because he was already surrounded with sympathetic types at least one who appeared to know what he was doing, or at least he was doing pretty much what I would have done.
I only got involved because he had this little dog, a beagle mix, maybe a pure bred. My friend and I
Click images for desktop size: "Aquatic Beauty" by TitusBoy hashed out his address and took the scared little thing home.
The guy had no real memory of me but he remembered that day. We walked and chatted about dogs a bit before he turned to go home. The dog jumped on my leg for a pet then waddled away.
On Saturday I went to the "Equipment Fitting Seminar". It was as dull as I expected. The people attending were interesting. There were even a few players who were there to act as mannequins. I liked the people I met.
There was one thing I'd never seen before. A new helmet strapping configuration for little kids.
Its not more simple, its actually a pretty complicated system. I can't see how it would protect the kids any better but then I can't understand the different types of plastic they use in little kid helmets either.
After the equipment fitting we went to the animal shelter. We walked in fine but when I asked to see a dog they said that we were too early! It was after 10.
So we went to a restaurant for breakfast. The place was an old favorites of my friend, even though it had been years since she'd been there she glowed in hungry anticipation.
Her food was excellent. We watched it as they accidentally sent it on a tour of all three floors of the restaurant. Even then it was still warmer than mine.
Hers was excellent. I managed to pry a couple of mouthfuls from her. Mine was horrible. Cold yet somehow over cooked in some places and undercooked in others. Even her fruit salad was better! She got all sorts of different fruit while I got one piece of papaya and 3 hunks of flavorless melon!
I figure they remembered her ad disliked me for keeping her away for so long . . .
Finally we got to see a dog. We took a big Burmese cross out for a walk. The dog was fascinating. As overjoyed as she was to be outside of the kennel she was still constantly aware of us. It appeared that she was merely ignoring us but when my friend walked to a garbage can the dog froze and watched and did not move until my friend returned.

Click images for desktop size: "Surf" by Unknown I tried an experiment. I went and walked around a full pine tree so I'd be out of sight. Sure enough the dog froze. She sat right in front of my friend and stared at her as if to say, "Now's our chance! We can escape from him!" It was that sort of day for me.
Sunday was brighter, although not so warm and furry.
The coordinator from the Rescue Group came for our interview. Our dogs were incredibly well behaved. I was proud of them. She stayed for well over two hours. We'll have out first foster next Saturday or Sunday.
I couldn't be happier.
Or so I thought.
Just after the coordinator left I got the call from the football team. I'm the new Head Coach for the 12 year old squad.
I really didn't want to be an HC but it will make some things easier while adding a lot more work. On Wednesday is the coaches meeting where they'll lay out the schedule. I'll find out about equipment and if I can get a couple of bodies to run stop watches and to be eyes.
My friend has volunteered to be my clip board. Some of you know how I like to walk around and bark down observations. Its better to bark them out then to squiggle them on a pad. Mainly because 10 minutes after practice my notes are suddenly indecipherable.
I've already started mapping out the first practice so I can make a definitive list of equipment I can ask about.
I plan to tell them about "STAR" (Strength, Tenacity, Agility, Remembering) while they're running.
My goals for the team in the first season will be: 1) To have fun 2) To learn more about football 3) To learn what it means to be part of a team 4) Win the Championship and in that order. If we do the first three well the fourth will automatically happen.
My friend was awake all night working on her Qtr end stuff. I'm not happy about that but I guess better up all night at home than at the office.
She's been using the MacBook with Parallels to do the Citrix stuff. So far its been working pretty well, except this morning Windows XP crashed! It didn't even take down Parallels, just your basic stupid Windows crash.
The decent part was that it crashed in the middle of a save. The nights work was able to be recovered.
She went into the office. I'm worried about anyone being up all night and then being in an office on a rainy day.
My computer continues to limp along, now the console is throwing up wird kernel missed interrupt errors . . .

Posted by David at 12:20 PM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Princess of the Day" by Unknown Yesterday it was warm enough to leave the house door open. The gentle dog went to work with my friend, that meant the giant dog and my puppy were here and able to come from outside to inside at their whim.
Odd side effect; I started to notice that ever ten to twelve minutes my puppy would come inside, look at me and then trot back outside.
It didn't matter what she was doing always she came back inside to see if I was still there. Maybe she just wanted to see if I was
Click images for desktop size: "Elizabeth Taylor" passing out pork chops or bacon. I don't know.She could have been bird watching, bark fighting or just running around tormenting the giant dog but she'd just stop and come rushing inside, look at me and then run back outside.
Considering the day started out with her following my friend and gentle dog to the car, jumping into the car (she hates cars) and then refusing to leave, determined to go for the ride, I don't know what to make of it at all.
There's a new wrinkle to the foster dog quest. The chow/shepherd mix we were going to take in is pregnant!
She's nine months old. I get a pretty grim image of her young life. There's no certification but it seems to me she'd have had to get pregnant during her first heat. General attitude is that its best for a female dog to be spayed before her first heat. This greatly reduces the possibility and probability of several fatal diseases including some cancers.
The people who had this dog, who shortly thereafter gave the dog away on a website classified site
Click images for desktop size: "Pin Up" by Suzanne Meunier either intentionally bred the too young dog or else they were so neglectful they left the girl in a position to be bred.
I feel the same way about this as I did when I saw a twelve year old girl pushing a pram on a London estate. I asked her if she was watching her brother and she informed me that the baby in the pram was her son. I was well known on that estate and the next day the little girl's mother came to see me about her child joining my sports club. The mother of the mother was closer to twenty-five than to thirty. She dressed to meet me. She'd seen me on TV or something so she dressed in her best. Even though it was ten in the morning she was kited out in her best all night rave gear. (The little girl mom became a gifted high jumper.)
I feel sad for the chow/shepherd mix. We're willing to take her in and keep her until she and her puppies are adopted. Not without serious reservations and heart skipping and a tiny bit of sly joy at being surrounded with puppies. The people who fostering her now are willing to keep her until the puppies are weaned. They also note that the people who surrendered the girl to the kill shelter reported a lot of bad behaviour. They've had the girl longer than they did and they see not an inkling of the reported behaviours.
Since they're willing to give the girl a home it seems better for her to not have her moving around. A poor young dog about to give birth, lost in confusion and not having any place to go to understand needs some stability, I think. It just seems better for her not to have to readjust to a new home.
I'm disappointed slightly, for me, but think its best for her.
In the meanwhile the foster dog coordinator will be here on Sunday. We'll get clear on the fact that we're willing to foster the most at risk dogs so long as they don't try to savage our guys forever and ever.

Click images for desktop size: "Unknown" by Unknown Tomorrow is my first coaches meeting. Looking forward to it. Hopefully they'll be a bit closer to my role. I don't mind being a head coach but I'd prefer working a position.
I've been running through first day practices both ways in my head. Most often in the shower. I'd like to get things firmed down so I can move beyond first day! Practice starts on April 22nd for the summer league.
I figure the first day will be in getting some measurables; forty times and such. If I've got linemen then we'll also get standing high jump numbers. Kids like prove of improvement. So do adults.
Then some group SAQ drills so I can assess the kids and see where they need improvement. That should about run them to death. Then some helmet only football drills mainly for assessments to lay out a plan and to see what sort of scheme the kids might be able to learn and implement.
I chatter at them during drills and its from the chatter that I start to form my psychological assessment. Not only to see who can be relied on in crunch time but how they're going to cope with life on and off the field.
Maybe not the best way but its the only way I know how.
Right now I don't even know if I'll let them call me by name or ask them to call me coach. It always depends.

My friend is home sick now. I have a hare brained theory that the pressures of her Qtr end and other work related things are what cause her to breakdown. She can handle a lot. (Hey, she can cope with me and that ain't easy).
I have to bumble on with prep for the weekend (coaching, visiting animal shelter, getting some hardware to repair some fences, foster coordinator and doggie playtime) and to do my best to be an inept nurse.

I do note with sadness that the guys from the Pirate Bay have been found guilty. This is not shocking. Freedom has to be fought for. They're fighting. But the RIAA and MPAA's wins are just bad for consumers and the world. Another step toward corporate take over of our lives.
I never cared much for the Pirate Bay. Never used it but I liked that it existed and will continue to exist.
The ridiculous sentence did not include ordering the site shut down.
I also note that for every loss their is a victory. Time Warner has abruptly backed off on the insane pricing plans. They haven't given up but have seemed to want to wait till October before going ahead. Probably figure they need to buy off a few more senators.

Posted by David at 9:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Click images for desktop size: "Mourning Her Warrior Dead" by Charles Marion Russell Its seems I was mistaken about the dog shelters here. Blind man and the elephant thing.
The two shelters I've been to were non-kill shelters ergo I decided they're all non-kill. They're not.
The dogs we're fostering come from the kill shelter.
I begrudgingly concede that there might be a place in the world for kill shelters. Some dogs have been so cruelly tormented, usually by humans, that the end of life is the only way to end the poor creature's anguish.
I thoroughly believe that every animal and every person can become an important and necessary part of this world if they're
Click images for desktop size: "Winning Hand" by Unknown only given a chance.
I have to concede that not everyone is capable of giving people and animals that second chance. Some of us have to work so hard to protect ourselves that its near impossible to drop the armour long enough to let an alien thing into our hearts. Understanding takes a toll too, even though I know the rewards are great so is the risk.
One of my fosters, Jack, was at death's door. He'd been fostered and even they couldn't cope with him. So he ended up with me. I never knew what the problem was. It was a lot of little things. Nothing that meant anything. He was fine. The only thing we couldn't cope with that he was worse than my puppy. When we went on walks the two of them were of the school of getting there fastest and getting back home even faster, and if they had to drag me along to do it so be it. He got better but that's just the way he is. He calmed down a lot, got curious about stuff and learned it was okay to love people.
That this is a kill shelter makes the decision about what pups to foster a lot easier. My urge is to
Click images for desktop size: "Market Scene by Candle Ligh" by Schendel van Petrus say, "Just give us all of them scheduled to die tomorrow," which isn't fair to them or to the dogs living with me now.
It looks like the pup we'll take will be a 9 month old chow/shepherd mix. YOW! Big girl. She was a surrender. The people who gave her up got her for free via one of those CraigsList permutations that runs locally. So they put about fifty cents worth of gas into her and gave her nearly a week to fit in.
She's head shy, afraid of children, afraid of other dogs. If you'd had three homes and a shelter in your life you'd feel pretty shy and scared too. She's being judged for temperament now. The only thing that worries me about a new dog is that it not be cruel to the dogs that live with me now. No vicious attacks. Yelling at them, nipping at them I understand and deal with but snarling ripping attacks are out.
I have a commitment to my family. The dogs who are my family members will help a foster and be fine. They deserve most of my consideration at first. They deserve to feel safe in their home. If it seems hypocritical to place one animal's safety in front of another's I can live with being a hypocrite. The dogs and I have struggled to learn to live together and to be happy together. They are family and they deserve my protection as we welcome another family member into our lives.
We'll see how it plays out. I'm excited.

Yesterday was a pretty wasted mess. Too tired. Too cold.
I got the minimum done which is good enough most days.
I watched another episode of "The Mute Samurai". Mainly to see Misumi's direction. Misumi's episode was different in tone and effect than the rest of the series. Clearly personal. It was called, "The Girl with Blue Eyes" and was about a blonde gajin girl who washed ashore in the arms of her dead mother. The little girl is adopted by a kindly grandfather type. The rest of the village was prepared to let the infant to simply die. Even
Click images for desktop size: "Anime" by Unknown now with the girl only five years old they spit on her, revile her for being a foreigner.
The little girl is lonely. She spends her days wetting her hair and praying to the goddess of the stream that her fiery red hair will miraculously turn black.
A wanted outlaw comes into the area. He breaks into the grandpa's house and forces them to give him food. He does not harm them. He talks to the little girl, roughly and harshly but without prejudice. Then he leaves.
The next day the little girl is playing at the beach. There's commotion at the village bulletin board. They are all looking at the wanted poster for "Sabu", the outlaw who broke into her house. She goes to hear what they're saying and the adult women push her aside, calling her dirty and disgraceful.
The little girl goes home and begins making rice cakes and tea. She packs them into bamboo containers and heads off. She goes to the mountains and walks along a desolate path shouting the outlaw's name.
Sabu comes out and grabs her. She tells him she figured he must be hungry and offers him the rice cakes and tea. He eats them greedily.
They're by a stream. As the little girl tells him what is happening in town she goes about her odd ritual of wetting her hair from the stream. She tells Sabu of her prayers to have black hair.
Sabu tells her he will turn her hair black if she brings him food everyday. She eagerly agrees and they continue talking.
Sabu uses her to deliver messages and to bring him food. She takes him to a deep cave, a better place to hide that only she knows about.
Finally Kiichi Hogan comes into the story. Kiichi is here for the reward. This time we see the subtle differences between Misumi's Ito Ogami, Lone Wolf, and Hogan. Ogami walks the path of hell but he is a complete, ruthless but sane, man. Kiichi Hogan is obsessive, loaded with rage and hate that his silence forces him to hold all inside of him. He's insane but has the saving grace of being a good man at his core.
In Misumi's episodes Hogan is not even allowed the ecstasy of voice over. He is just a massive unhinged killer who's innate goodness prohibits him from taking the easy way out.
Surprisingly this episode has almost no sword play, very little action at all. Hogan finds Sabu but at the little girl's entreaties he does not fight him and capture him. He leaves.
Other bounty hunters don't have his morals. They figure out the little girl is Sabu's contact. They grab her, hold her and without her help find Sabu's hiding place.
They're afraid to go into the deep cave and ferret him out so they tie the little girl to a tree and start to beat her with sticks, yelling into the cave that they'll stop beating the girl if Sabu comes out
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Unknown to be killed.
Sabu does. The little girl yells, "I never told them anything!"
Sabu replies, "I know that."
The bounty hunters and gang surround Sabu. They forget the beaten little girl. With no announcement Hogan comes up behind her. He cuts her ropes, freeing her. She looks at him and then runs to Sabu.
With little flash Hogan kills the bad guys. That's it for action.
The episode ends with Sabu about to go to prison. He turns to the little girl and promises to take care of her when he is released. He also apologizes to her for lying that he could turn her golden hair black. The cop then tells the little girl she should be proud of her differences. She made a black soul like Sabu's white due to her differences. She is a gift from the gods.

Posted by David at 11:14 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "The Long and the Tall" by Unknown The giant dog woke me. Simple method; barked in my face till I got up.
He was only the emissary. The other two dogs were agitated and waiting for me to get up and open the door. There was something in the yard.
I let them out. Typical non-event. And little barking.
They're all asleep now. My friends asleep. The whole house is silent except for me.
Headphones on. Staring at LCD screens and thinking. Always thinking even when the thoughts are just about white noise and guitar strings.
My puppy stayed in the office with me for a while. I was boring. She left.
She did her job. She reminded me that no matter how dark the night I'm not alone, never alone. Free? As free as I can be I guess. Freedom in exchange for never being alone seems a fair deal. Never alone against no responsibility, no love, just me and my pills and my pain.
Maybe the deal is too much in my favour.
Some good news yesterday. Very good news.
It started when the Animal Rescue service called. We're going to get to be foster dog parents.
Very cool.
All that's left is the house visit. Which just means some house cleaning. There's little question this is a home built for dogs.
My friend wants me to find out about us getting a shelter license. Where we could have as many dogs as we saw fit (and could afford). I still have a strong distaste for dealing with governments but the pay off would be kind of astonishingly great.
Both my friend and I are experienced fosters. I love having the dogs come in. Its a positive for everyone. Our dogs get to meet and adapt to another personality, the foster gets out of the shelter.
Click images for desktop size: "Marvel Comics Presents" Even the nice shelters are pretty hellish, at least to me.
My last foster was in an area that still believed in kill shelters. There the fostering had a more poignant edge. The poor dogs had either me or death. This never stopped any of them from making my life pleasantly miserable. One foster ate a wall, I've lost countless frozen pizzas off of kitchen counters. One foster I loved had this incredible ability to dig a three foot hole in under 5 seconds!
My puppy would argue with them, play with them. My puppy used to like to lay out her stuffed toys in the sun light. She would spend an amazing amount of time laying them out and arranging them, then she would just lie down and stare at them. I guess she was feeling wealthy.
All of the fosters respected her little arrangements, until her back was turned. then they'd steal her toys and actually play with them like a dog is intended to.
Here they don't have any kill shelters. It sort of puts the lie to the myth that kill shelters provide any sort of service. Even though the pups aren't facing unjust execution their lives are still sadly miserable.
The shelters here are nice. The shelters in LA are a disgrace. Visiting any of them is tantamount to seeing the undiscussed circle of hell. Here they're clean. Each dog has a room, not a cage, but its still prison. No dog is happy until someone stops to talk at them, and when the person leaves they sink back into their lonely misery.
One thing this agency does that is different from any past
Click images for desktop size: "Marty Robbins" experience; they let you pick which dog to foster.
I'm not sure how I feel about that. My experience is that the coordinator calls me and says that if I don't take this or that puppy they'll die tomorrow.
Its an unfair pressure I don't mind.
Here we had to go through the web site and pick one.
Considering that both my friend and I are prone to the "oh, hell, just give me all of them" syndrome and "we'll figure out how to deal with it as things come up" affliction, this is dangerous.
We picked two dogs for more info on. Both are Belgian mix breeds. In the pictures both dogs look terrified and terribly sad.
The female is a terv mix, about 18 months old. She was picked up on the street. No one ever claimed her. This makes me figure she was abandoned. Driven someplace and kicked out of the car to "wander lost and lonely like a cloud".
The male has a face too much like my puppy's. He's about 6 months. A surrender. That means that some one decided that his black fur didn't coordinate well with the new carpet, or his toes clicking on the linoleum grated on their nerves.
That's harsh. There are probably several good reasons for taking someone into your life and then cruelly dumping them. I can't think of any. At least its better than abandoning them to their own
Click images for desktop size: "I Feel You" by Jose Manchado devices. I don't really think so but it sounds like it should be better.
We'll know this weekend when we get the home inspection. I'll take the cowardly way out and let my friend make the final pick. I figure let both of them stay here, even though I know I could never cope with two new scared dogs, but I guess I'd figure it out.
I also love the idea of meeting the perspective adopting people. Its nothing but a warm experience.
The other nice news is that the football club apparently wants me to coach. They haven't figured out the assignments yet but they want me attend the "fitting" clinic this Saturday.
This is the clinic where they show coaches the right way to wear shoulder pads and the proper sizing and strapping for helmets.
Its been a lot of years since I had to attend something like this. I expect to be pleasantly bored.
I used to keep up with this stuff by listening to the salesman. Eastman, Riddle, Air etc were always making alterations to their equipment, innovations maybe. Th salesman would demonstrate and point out any differences in how the gear should be worn.
I'll be most interested in meeting my fellow coaches. I hope there aren't any militaristic win-at-all-costs types. Most of the time you can't recognize the type until game day. They've learned to disguise it.
If that weren't enough my computer worked all day. Its still going.
My friend is learning to love her MacBook. She using Parallels along with gr to do her job and keep it all on her Mac.
The only slight negative is that yesterday was the last day of her four days off. This is the start of her Quarter End which means I probably not really see her until this weekend.
Its a bearable absence.

Posted by David at 5:34 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Rossetti and Dunton" by Dunn Not feeling well today. Whatever I think is wrong I've decided is wrong inside of me.
I'm to see the doctor on April 20th. Have to bring along all my numbers, my health diary.
Its obvious somethings wrong. After doing the lite exercise of working out the pain in my shoulder, Stretch it to the point where the pain just is about to start, then hold it for a count of 10 - repeat; trotting around the yard my blood pressure was 195 over 108. At the oral surgeons on Tuesday it was 180 over 90. Waking up its around 155 over 90.

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Unknown A year or so ago it never got above 130 over 70.
A year seems rapid to me. A rapid change.
I'm trying to resist self treatment. Diet is easy and obvious. Cut out sodium etc. I get twitched because I keep remembering the oncology team saying that it was important that I keep my blood pressure low, like my opthamologist was always telling me my eyes would do better if I kept my sugars at near hyperglycemic levels. Truths we hold to be self evident stuff.
My blood sugars are okay but not near the low levels I was keeping them at. Sometimes I think I'd do better if I would just get overwhelmed. Let panic take me someplace.
At least I can still laugh and think.
The giant dog has gone to work with my friend. The crazy thing jumped about four feet up in the air on his way to the car, he was so excited.
Inside my puppy let loose the saddest coyote/wolf howl I've ever heard from her. Its what prompted
Click images for desktop size: "Emotion Machine" by Unknown my trotting around the yard with her and gentle dog. My puppy gets the Kong. I chase her. Gentle dog latches on to my wrist and tries to keep me from catching her.
It must be a great game to them. They want to play it all the time.
It will be funny walking the two sane dogs. Easier on me but the giant dog's intent insanity sure makes every one of our expeditions a memorable adventure!
My mind may be wrapped up in morbidity but I can still think.
I've been watching a TV series. A Japanese TV series: The Mute Samurai. The first episode was entitled "The Man Who Lost The Ability to Sing" which is pretty RAH when you think about it.
What attracted me to it was the star, Tomisaburo Wakayama, of "Lone Wolf and Cub". Wakayama's brother Shintaro Katsu, Zatoichi, makes appearances. Hideo Gosha wrote the story! When I saw that a few episodes were directed by Misumi Kenji, it became must see stuff.
I'm watching them in order. They're pretty standard TV fair. I'm not keen on the pacing. The plot is that Kiichi's father was an honest judge in Nagasaki. He refused to turn a blind eye to the foreigners illegal drug smuggling so the foreigners killed him, his wife and slashed Kiichi's throat and left him to die so he could watch the foreigner's rape his fiancee.
Lots of reason for hopeless rage there.
Kiichi spends the show as a bounty hunter. He lives off the money but mainly is searching for criminals who can lead him to the foreigners. When the show picks up he's been on the quest for 18 years!!
He's become a deadly swordsman who's only fear is that the foreigners might have left Japan before he can kill them!
The humour of the stories comes from Kiichi's discovery that he only gets half as much money for bringing in the criminals dead. That and people making fun of the strong samurai that cannot speak. This is a tough show. In the first five minutes there's a graphic decapitation.
Misumi directs the third episode. It fit in to the series canon but because it's Misumi it takes an odder slant.
There are ideas that flow through all of Misumi's films. That's one of the requirements to be considered an "auteur". One of the most telling is his depiction of society and its relationship to his swordsmen. Society becomes a dense but single character in his films.
In this short film (which is what most of these TV episodes come across as) his concept of society gets clearer than ever before.

Click images for desktop size: "John Kennedy" Society and the people in it are vile, frightened contemptible things. Why shouldn't they be. Any hint of heroism from one of its part leads it to being rejected and destroyed by the society that protects itself above all else. Self preservation rules the vast majority. It is all they have.
And due to the low cruel lives they are forced into it is the superior man's instinctual need to love these people. To protect them and enable them to perhaps grow into something more than the miserable thing they are condemned to be.
And the superior man does this while not living amongst them, not ever letting them touch him lest they contaminate the purity of his love with their sodden reality.
Society's only touch of humanity comes from the women who maybe just as rough as their men but they have samurai's strength in their hearts. They are not afraid to show gratitude and realize their is pride in humility.
It would seem that this grim view of the world is essential to the power of Misumi's imagery. It forces him to construct his "fleur de mal" images of gore and beauty.
A world where the only thing worth loving is contemptible and represents dirt that you would never allow to taint your own soul is a tough place to live. That Misumi's heroes thrive in this world without regret and that they never let their love for their common man become infused with pity presents an image unlike any I've encountered in classical or existentialist literature. I guess it only works if you've got a heavy sword and the emotional where with all to calmly slay dozens at a pitch.
I'm going to take my pair of dogs out to explore a world that's not tinged with madness. I like walking all three of them. I always figure people see us and point while thinking to themselves, "There goes the luckiest man in the world."

Posted by David at 10:33 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Clothes Make the Man" by Unknown There are four inches of snow on the ground. The temperature is 27. Easter weekend is this weekend.
Yesterday my friend left for work. The giant puppy has strange issues. Whenever we or she leave he starts a pathetic crying. My puppy will often join in with a mournful howl.
Normally this all ends as soon as I step back in the house. I have to go out with my friend to open and close the gate behind her. Yesterday when I came back inside the giant dog's tears didn't stop.
Before I could start to comfort him the phone rang. My friend was
Click image: "Charmed to Meet You" by Unknown coming home. The snow was too bad for her to go into work.
I think the giant dog is taking credit for bringing her back to him.
As we settled in, her to work and me to annoy her and the dogs, I felt something odd. My gums had been swollen since the tooth extractions but they started to throb in a way that worried me.
I called the oral surgeon and got an emergency appointment.
The guy who pulled my teeth is on vacation. I liked his stand in far better. He said I had the start of an infection and I was healing much slower than usual.
Leukemia and chemo-patients are extremely susceptible to infection. Diabetics are slow healers.
It bugged me that this was in all my medical history. Before the extraction I even called and asked if I could pick up the script for the antibiotics before hand. I was told of course not.
I wonder if my call rankled them enough to not prescribe any antibiotics out of some sort of professional spite or in a vain attempt to not pay that much attention to my own health - let the
Click images for desktop size: "Esther" by Benouville MD's handle it all, Just be compliant and shut up.
I figure the latter.
So the stand in doc gave me a script for Amoxicillin, a pretty non-specific anti-biotic.
I was so amazed and relieved that there was no charge for the visit that it wasn't till some time later that I started to wonder why I wasn't charged.
I spent the idle moments waiting around asking anyone who was foolish enough to listen what they thought about the weather. No one seemed as upset about the snow and cold as I did. Much to my chagrin they all seemed to accept it pretty much as the way things work "around these parts".
Other than that relatively complicated ploy of mine to annoy my friend and the dogs we settled in.
It was pleasantly dull. I didn't even have much time for my usual pondering of what is going to snatch my simple comfort away from me.
We watched a Japanese movie: "Suspect X". It was surprisingly good and entertaining. It started with a crazy cool "Mister Wizard" style explanation and demonstration on how to make a super particle accelerator from things you can find around the house, if you happen to live in a medical tech supply factory anyway.
The film is based on a successful Japanese TV series so I wasn't all prepared for what was to come. A murder mystery that became a struggle between a genius physicist and a super genius mathematician.
And somehow it became a tale of enduring and effective heartbreak, loneliness and profound sadness. Its smart enough in its story telling to lay out some red herrings as to the character and motives of the characters, allowing you to gleefully jump to some conclusions that will intertwine your own guilt with the guilt of the leads and the distaste for the mere cops who slave away to solve the crime.
At one point the "villain", the mathematician, asks the physicist to not solve the crime; "It will bring no one happiness."
The ending is searing, simple with an elegance that speak to the truth of the lost.
A warmly recommended movie. Not great but terribly cool entertainment.
I've already had the dogs out in the bad weather. They love it. They knocked me down once. Unintentional this time. My puppy and the gentle dog saw something and went after it while giant
Click images for desktop size: "DC Comics" dog saw the same thing and decided to back away from it, probably to consider joining in on the attack. I was doing pretty well until giant dog decided that whatever was out there was small enough to make it safe for him to join in on the attack. He moved too fast for me so I went over. To the pups disgust I kept a hold on all three leashes.
One of my kids (former players) likes to send me the UK top 40 three or four times a year. I think I once muttered something about being afraid of loosing touch. For some reason he sends me the POP top 40. And once again I'm amazed that there are as many of those tracks that I sort of like and there are tracks I down right hate (keyboards and drum machines are often but not always the progeny of hate).

Posted by David at 10:51 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Autumn Maple" by Kamisaka Sekka Yesterday was pretty nice. Temperature's up around 50, felt warmer in the sun. The dogs were happy.
It was nice, like a pleasant autumn day.
This morning there was about an inch of snow on the ground and the threat of about 8 inches to come. Aggravatingly no one but me thinks this is peculiar and slightly disheartening.
The dogs are still happy.
It was a mildly interesting weekend. On Saturday we met my friend's parents at the Chinese buffet for their birthday lunch. We were surprised at how
Click images for desktop size: "Bath Time" by Unknown busy it was.
This impacted my doggie bag purloining. While I doubt if they care about me snatching tidbits to take home for the dogs it makes the experience much more fulfilling if its a clandestine operation I barely get away with. Not certain how much I'd be able to eat I went loaded for bear, both the inner and out pockets of my sweater/fleece were lined with plastic.
The crowd was so heavy and there was so much wait personnel that I only got 2 pockets filled. Fortunately their Saturday lunch is more of a brunch thing. There was bacon and pork sausage.
There was also an omelet chef. This was new and novel. My friend had a cheese and mushroom
Click images for desktop size: "Beethoven" by Unknown omelet that she thought was pretty good. Except it was too large for her. This probably saved them a fortune in sprig rolls and veggies.
I had no big problems eating. I got sick afterwards but I put that off to living on nothing but over cooked rice, pudding and other non-chewables.
Real food felt weird in my mouth. The only problem I really had was with the calamari. Too chewy to disintegrate it properly for swallowing. I sampled a little bit of everything. Everything felt odd in my near toothless mouth but there was no problem and no bleeding.
The table conversation perplexed me. My friends family is larger than I ever imagined. Every time she talks with her parents I seem to find out about another sibling. I'm an only child so its perplexing to me. I guess my ideas about extended families don't have much basis in reality. I always figured that they were closer, chatting daily. I thought they were more apart of life.
I don't like how everyone looks at me like I was retarded when I ask, "who is that?"
(I suddenly remembered I'm not actually an only child. My step-father had three kids from a previous marriage. I guess I met them once when I was about 7. Never had any contact or heard about them until my step-fathers funeral. They sent some flowers. I was bored and I asked my mother who some of the flower senders were. She gave me that same "how retarded are you" look and explained, slowly, that those people were my brother and sisters.

Click images for desktop size: "Nude" by Unknown I thought it was pretty chintzy to only get one bunch of flowers from 3 people but then realized that since they'd never seen the guy in at least 20 years probably one of them thought to send something and just signed all three names. Fair enough and probably more than my step-father warranted. I lived with him and wasn't too thrilled to be there I can't imagine how his three other kids must have felt hearing he was gone. Heck of a legacy. They got mentioned in his obituary. I didn't. Suited me fine.
After lunch my friend and I headed to the Animal Shelter. There are plenty of reasons we should stick with having only three dogs, mainly economic and the lack of canine sleeping space. But there were two dogs there that seemed to need us more than we might need them.
I was surprised when her parents met us at the shelter. They'd never been there before. I liked them showing up like that. Its the only pleasant surprise I recall from them. My friend seemed pleased which made it all the better.
Inside was not so great. The one dog, Rufus, was gone. He'd found a new home. The other little dog Jackson had an application for him pending.
Jackson is one of those dogs that really irk me. Not the dog but the people who were entrusted to him. He is at least 9 years old and they just abandoned him. The notes on him indicated severe neglect. He was intact. (Polite dog words for not fixed, which is slightly less polite for uncastrated).
This is a non-kill shelter and they're fairly fussy about who takes their dogs so we decided to give him a break and pull him out of the kennel. He was a little frantic and really wanted out. Understandable. Except the shelter was closing! We weren't allowed to spring him. I was looking forward to it.
It cast a pall over what had been a nice day. My friend's mother was surprised there were so few dogs there. I thought that was good news.
Our spirits were elevated a little bit when on Sunday we got an email explaining that we are still being considered as foster parents. Dog foster parents.
I like the idea of being fosters. Meet a slew of nice dogs and a bigger slew of some excellent people (for the most part).
My friend bought up another subject on Sunday. She's been corresponding with an old high school chum. It appears that woman is going through some strive. Her husband's girl friend was calling him constantly while their son was getting an operation. I also gathered that the boob husband was taking the calls. Yow!

Click images for desktop size: "Mermen" by Maxfield Parrish My friend has invited her to stay with us if things get too crazy for her. (Crazier than that?) Now my friend is worried that her high school mate isn't very much like us.
We also had to deal with the stupid cat. When we came back from a little errand the stupid cat was standing in the neighbor's yard yowling its head off. My friend had to go into the yard but then couldn't find the thing. It had left the yard it was acting like it was imprisoned in. My friend caught the cat up and bought her into the yard where upon the cat demanded to be set down. Since the fence is separated from our neighbors by a quarter inch wire link fence we spent 10 minutes moving it a quarter inch.
There's someone who might like to take the stupid cat into their home. As much as I dislike the stupid cat, I mean I like skanky cat, the feral free loader, more than I do her, I still have a strong knee jerk reaction about moving an 8 year old animal out of the environment its used to.
My feelings aren't very important here so we'll see what happens.
Finally my iMac is holding on. Barely. I think the Hard Drive is only part of the problem. I think the HD Controller and possibly even the CPU might be in trouble s well. I'm still doing daily back-ups, which are a pain.
I looked at the Pystar Hackintosh. Pystar is being sued by Apple for making and selling machines that run OSX. There's even talk, probably true, that the next version of OSX will have DRM in it to prohibit it from running on anything but Apple taxed machines. Still . . .
Even though its about 25% the cost of a MacPro and about six hundred less than the sexier non boxed iMac its still too expensive for us.
I think I could replace all the parts. Its scary working with such tiny screws on something so fragile but how else do you learn?

Posted by David at 12:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Water Sprite" by Unknown Passed out at ten p.m., which is early for me.
Woke up at 3:00 a.m. in the midst of a dream.
Like most of my dreams this one had a plot. I was back in LA as old as I am but looking like when I was 22. I was on the Hollywood Freeway, driving like a maniac through rush hour traffic, gunning up to a hundred in the fire lane and scuttering through traffic, not running away from anything but rushing to downtown.
I was driving my old junker red and white Ford Falcon station wagon, my sleeper. Some of you might remember it. Ran on airplane fuel. Looked like hell but tipped out at 145 in the quarter mile. The only real problem was that the carb kept catching on fire if it had to idle too long.
I hit downtown. The LAVA art exhibition was still going on. I tried to park by the Contemporary Art Museum but no luck. I ended up having to park deep in the nickel. I figured as much. Even in a dream you don't drive a decent car down to the Nickel.
I made a careful note of where I was parked. Put the keys in my pocket and started to run to my appointment. I was meeting my friend. We'd been separated for too long. She had managed to reconnect with her first love and they were living a very happy life together. It was her first time in LA and she'd been thoughtful enough to call me.
We were going to one of the grind houses. The last surviving one. Every town needs a movie theater where the bums can crash for a dollar. They were showing the double bill of Jean Luc Godard's "Masculin Feminine" and "Hong Kong Cat" which is actually not that weird a double bill for the old
Click images for desktop size: "State of Being" by Blatte grind houses. We scheduled our meeting to see those two and intended to leave before the other two flics, some gore schlock I'd normally have been interested in.
As we went to our seats I commented on how I was not a big fan of Godard's but "Hong Kong Cat" was a crazy cool mess of a movie.
We watched the flics, not even holding hands. Her lover, Rodney, had left us alone. He wanted to go see the Dodgers play the Angels at Chavez Ravine.
When the movies ended we left the theater. It had become inky and dangerous dark. My friend and I walked and talked. We talked like old lovers who never should have parted, with pain and lightness. We passed an SRO where a boom box with a blown speaker blared a salsa version of the Ramones' "Sitting in my Room". We were on Figueroa. There were lights and people. It was where she was supposed to meet Rodney. I left her in front of the old boarded up penny arcade where a bunch of cps loitered, drinking coffee and eyeing the gang bangers. It felt safe enough. She wanted to walk me to my car but I knew the area I'd parked in. It wasn't safe. I told her it was too far away and we might not get back in time for her to meet Rodney.

Click images for desktop size: "Reading Desk" by Leighton We parted with an aerial hug. I tossed her up in the air and enjoyed looking at her flushed near laughing face against the blue black sky and the crossing wires.
She called after me but I pretended not to hear. My heart was tearing.
Then I realized I couldn't remember exactly how to get to my car. I wandered downtown LA lost in thought, the kind of fervid thought that comes when your heart takes over from your brain and you get lost in the way things might have been and forget the reasons why things are as they are.
I watched the drunks, the bums, the hopeless and the fearful. Around the corner from Sneaky Pete's Liquors there was a building being renovated. A group were stealing the scaffolding. Two guys ran off with a pair of acetylene tanks.
I watched them run off and watched a patrol car, its bubble gum machine strobing blue drive by slowly. The cops watched the stealing but never stopped.
I woke up.
I have no idea what it means or why this dream affected me to the point of memory.

Click images for desktop size: "A Dirty Job" by NFl Films
I'm doing better. The worst pain left is where they cut out the section for the biopsy. Yesterday I was practicing smiling in the mirror. Trying to smile so that I don't look like a hillbilly caricature. I noticed that the wound where they cut is keloiding. I hope it flattens out but I don't know if it makes any difference.
I went to meet the guys about coaching. I was shocked by how much kit and gear they had. Very well run team. I was a bit perplexed by that. Even in high school ball I would have been more responsible for a lot more day to day stuff. Here I'd just coach. I'm not sure if that's a positive or a negative.
I think we properly impressed each other. Now its just a matter of waiting a couple days. They start practice in a couple weeks.
My friend sat in on the interview, at my invitation. She didn't volunteer for anything and seemed mildly irked that I didn't volunteer her! We'll see what happens.
After the interview we stopped at the Animal Shelter. Too many cats and far too many beautiful dogs. Te only good sign was that two of the most special ones were spoken for. There's was one little guy, so thin, they said he was 6 or 7. I wouldn't be surprised if he were 9 or 10. They didn't tell the whole story about how he ended up in the shelter but he was terribly matted and had to be painstakingly shaved down. I liked him but couldn't figure how he'd handle our three maniacs.
When we got home our dogs went typically berserk with pleasure on seeing us. When I went to bed my puppy scrunched close to me, even resting her head on my chest, until some dog outside barked and she had to go defend our honor.
Tomorrow we're meeting my friends parents to celebrate their birthdays. We're going to the Chinese buffet. This pleases the dogs no end. It will be my first attempt at eating real food.
The computer keeps stuttering but I managed to do a full back up. I'm going to try and tweak things and keep it surviving. Its not four years old yet. I replaced the HD once already. This is irksome.

Posted by David at 6:36 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Scarf, Girl and New Friend" by Leah Felecity It's snowing . . .

My puppy has always loved her Kong, a red hard rubber conical toy. But she's very specific about it being her Kong.
When Jack, our foster dog, got adopted I included a Kong with his going away package. I made a mistake and gave my puppies Kong to Jack and kept his. This was a bigger mistake than I thought. My puppy who spent every minute outside with the Kong in her mouth refused to touch "Jack;s" Kong. She had no interest in it. Instead she
Click images for desktop size: "Fess Parker" spent a good portion of every day searching for her Kong.
After nearly a year she started to play with "Jack's" Kong. Soon she was as enamored with it as always. By enamored I mean chasing it, teasing me with it and wanting me to chase her to steal it from her.
After our move she lost the Kong in a snow drift. I'd been looking as hard as I can. She'd scuttle along beside me desperate and frustrated.
Her aunt sent her a new Kong for her birthday last year. My puppy studiously ignored it until yesterday.
She finds it vital to have her Kong and to torment me with it. I don't know why but it seems to be some sort of lifeline between us.

I spent the weekend lightly suffering. I wonder if tomorrow's oral surgery, six teeth gone, is preying that heavily on me. I also wonder if the debilitating effect of the pain in my mouth is starting to affect the rest of my health. I'm constantly weary. My right shoulder is hurting em terribly. I can't put on a jacket with out grunting in pain. The exercises seem to keep the worst of the pain away.
My left elbow has stated to throb and weaken. I have a hard time holding the coffee pot. My thumbs continue to ache and stay weak.

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by A Brito My left ankle feels tweaked and burning. My right knee burns and gives out when I try to stand.
My blood sugar levels have been haywire. And every day my blood pressure seems to be rising, particularly the diastolic (the littler number).
Maybe its holistic. Could the pain in my mouth be branching out and affecting the rest of my body? Or could it be a matter of will? Keeping the pain in my mouth in check has permitted the rest of my body's aches and pains to resurface.
It will be interesting to see after tomorrow afternoon when my life will be mainly saliva, blood and a numb tongue.

I did watch three movies this weekend.
The first was a surprise in that it didn't totally suck; "Marley and Me". How did this Owen guy get to be a star? Alan Arkin was in it and he was reliably funny.
For a while it seemed almost that the filmmakers had swiped a page from the Japanese. The Japanese style of dog movie making is to realize that the dogs are not merely an object to cutify but a separate character that has a value within the dramatic dynamic.
That wasn't quite so. It turned out that the film was mainly just a biography of this newspaper writer. At least the dog was in it a lot and was used, slightly, as a device to elucidate the character and miasma of the human characters.
I expected it to be terrible. It wasn't.
The Korean film, "The Divine Weapon" was something of a throwback. It was definitely made to cash in on the popularity of "Red Cliff", that monstrously huge John Woo epic detailing how China came to be.
This film details how Jaesong broke free of China to become its own tiny and proud country. Being Korean the epic part is incidental to the drama and relationships of the people.
There's been a trend, lately, in Korean films, to have these period pieces reflect modern times - rapping monks, ancient caps made to resemble backwards baseball caps. That sort of thing. I find it disconcerting and not a little bit stupid.
"The Divine Weapon" doesn't mess with that. Instead it paints a lovely picture of people in the 15th century trying to survive and make a new and better life.

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by 3D The odd thing that keeps this from being incredible is that the film's agenda is to push patriotism and freedom. Freedom can only be accomplished via creating weapons of mass destruction.
The movie details the Korean invention (or perfection) of the Flaming Arrow, or exploding arrows, including rockets, the first weapon capable of killing people over a mile away.
For me its hard to cheer 100 people killing 100,000 by using a weapon no one other than the inventors had even conceived.
The battles are epic and have a rough beauty but what was thrilling was the love story between the female creator of the divine weapon and the former noble, now a merchant, who helps her build the missiles. One scene in particular choked me up. It was intensely beautiful, simple and direct.
Earlier in the film the woman gives herself a pep talk; "Are you sad? No, you cannot afford to be sad! Even if I'm lonely I can't feel lonely. I can't ever admit how scared I am."
Later on she has been betrayed and ordered to be turned over to the Ming government for execution. The merchant fights and will surely die or kill his best friend but she stops him and surrenders herself. He yells after her, "Are you sad?"
"No!" she barks back.
"Are you sad?" he yells.
"No!", she exclaims as she walks to the prison cart.
"Are you lonely?"
"No!" and she turns, "I have you!"
He's speechless and watches silently as she is taken away. Its more powerful than anything but a movie could show.
Finally I got to see the long anticipated "Ong Bak 2".
I was nervous about the film ever since its was announced. I think Tony Jaa's "Tom Yum Gum" is one of the 10 greatest movies ever made. Mixing bone breaking martial arts with human feelings, love of creatures not human, gripping your heart and your adrenal gland is no small task.
"Chocolate proved that director Pikanew's talent is deadly real. But for some reason Tony Jaa decided to direct his third movie himself. The announcement made me flinch. I thought of Bruce Willis . . . (Have you seen "The Adventures of Hudson Hawke"?)
I was calmed only slightly when I saw the trailer, on line, for "Ong Bak 2". Then I read a really disparaging review. The review savaged the film. It was clear the writer had little knowledge of international cinema and no knowledge or interest in martial arts movies.
So I was excited and nervous about being disappointed.

Click images for desktop size: "The Salute of the Robe Trade" by Charles Russell Any film with Tony Jaa is going to get 4 stars out of 5 from me. The man moves with a sensuous grace and ease that is totally unworldly. He moves how an angel or an ancient god would move as if gravity and the earth around him were mere incidentals that can't even distract him. The man has two pet elephants! Of course he is quick to correct, the elephants aren't pets. They are family. RAH!
"Ong Bak 2" starts with a simple title, "It was the Buddhist year 1974. In the Christian calendar it was 1491."
This was a surprise. Tony Jaa the ultimate 21st Century hero was doing an ancient?

I need to stop. My concentration is fragmenting. This is already long. I'll continue after my oral surgery tomorrow.
As my friend says, I find it impossible to stay quiet for too long.
How does she put up with me? Normally with good grace and humour.

Posted by David at 10:41 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Pin Up Art" by JW McGinnis I used to be one of those balanced people. I mean that I hated as many things as I loved and with pretty equal intensity.
Maybe its just age and fatigue. I still love things with the same intensity, passion but I hate fewer and fewer things. And with less a feeling of rage, more like a feeling of contemptuous realization that these things will always be there: child molesters, rapists, the greedy oppressors who use democracy as a tool to repress and subjugate. No one is going to care enough to destroy them, eradicate them. I know that these vile types are manufactured and survive only because of our ignorance and they thrive because we all have a hard time looking past ourselves.
A scant few get busted and we feel smug for glancing at the headlines and the rest give thanks to the unlucky busted one because it means they can get about their evil for a little while longer, probably forever.
I don't have the rage anymore. Its a lot easier to love than to hate. Hate gets you killed, hate gets your friends killed and your allies killed. Doesn't matter if its killed for the right reasons or the
Click images for desktop size: "Mary Magdalene" by di Cosmio wrong. Dead is dead.
I'm bored and tired with death. Tired of fighting the hateful.
I'm just tired.

I fell asleep at 9:30 last night. Too exhausted to move.
Maybe it was the extra long walk. The dogs and I just meandered about the neighborhood. My puppy and the giant dog are leery of new things. Our byzantine path only slightly expanded their known world so they were happy about it.
My puppy will suck it up and continue forward in her belligerent straight ahead way but the giant dog will refuse like an open horse refusing a water jump. He trusts me so eventually he'll continue ahead.
Only the gentle dog is too wrapped up in new smells to care where we are or where we're going.
When we got home I gave the gentle dog a bath. He's the easiest of them. He stands quiet even though he insists that his head stay as far out side the tub as possible. He'll allow me to push his head over the tub and the water for shampooing and rinsing but immediately stretches his neck as far over the edge as possible.
I spent the rest of the day doing exercises. My right shoulder neuropathic pain is back. It bunches the muscles up and the pain gets electric. I'm glad it responds to the old exercises. Just stretches and flexes. They hurt but not as bad as reaching up reflexively for the dog shampoo.
My hands aren't responding. That's annoying. The weakness in the thumbs frustrates me. When I struggle to hold the pan under the faucet, filling it with water for lunch it feels like a melancholy piano
Click images for desktop size: "Alice 19th Secret" by Panga sonata should be playing on my personal soundtrack. Its survivable. Doesn't make me happy. And yet I remain happy. Go figure.
Its a good thing I went to sleep so early. Normally I take the dogs out for the last time each night at 10:30. I go out with them. We patrol the yard in the dark. It involves a lot of running, jumping and attacking me. We have to check certain trees for cats and squirrels,
They didn't want to go out with my friend. The only negative is that at 4:30 they came to me in bed. The giant dog woofed at me. My puppy whined at me. They had to go out badly.
I did the math in my head and decided to stay awake. They're all sleeping in their normal night time spots. They'll be up soon. Breakfast time.

My blood pressure is still high. Not dangerous going to die high but higher than it should be. Warning high.

Click images for desktop size: "Grand Central Station" by Ian Foster Same with the blood sugars. Funny. I still think the huge amount of ibuprofen I'm taking might be contributing to both things. I've no proof but since when did we need proof to believe things.

I've been getting comments and emails from people about how much they enjoy the art work and the whacky movie posters.
I'm glad that people like them and enjoy them. I still don't find them whacky. For me the words just frame the pictures and the posters and pic's are all the story. I always think that they more perfectly illustrate exactly how I feel.
I look at them and can always see what it is I'm feeling, what I felt.
I've got a few thousand desktop pictures (wallpapers for the Windows crowd) and I have them rotate on my desktop every fifteen minutes. I g through them and pick out the one that fits my mood. Sometimes its spot on and sometimes its just an allusion.
I've got over 10,000 movie posters. I do the same with them. I think movie posters are high art. People work hard on them. They want them to sell the movie but that's someone else's job. The guys who made them only wanted to make something beautiful with movie stars. Sometimes they totally succeed.
I'm not above sometimes making the references sort of obscure. Maybe to protect myself and probably sometimes just out of laziness.
When I duplicate a poster its generally because I've gotten a higher quality image. Or I just screwed up. Always one or the other.

I forgot to mention that one of the reasons I'm enjoying "Daredevils of the Red Circle" is that the team has a great dog; an Australian Shepherd called Tuffie. He even gets screen credit!
Tuffie doesn't really do anything heroic. He's the most doggish dog I've yet seen in a movie. He just does dog things and they always turn out to be incredibly heroic! And that, to me, is the way dogs really are.

Its time to feed the dogs. They're good dogs. And they claim to be very heroic too.

Posted by David at 7:40 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "In Bones We Trust" by Unknown When I dream, or at least remember my dreams, they are always very heavily plotted stories. They're seen like movies, complete with retakes and cutaway shoots with insets and over the shoulder close-ups. Otherwise my dreams are just fleeting images, like wayward film frames.
Lately I've been dreaming about pain. I feel the pain in my dream. I wake up and sure enough I'm in pain. Prophesy fulfilled.
Since dreams are important, they tell me, I wonder what these strange overly constructed dreams of mine mean. Dreams are the way the subconscious mind helps us deal with the issues of the day, the reconstruction of events filed into memories, trauma and events forgotten. ( At least thats what they taught me in the classes I had to take to deal with victims of child abuse) My dreams often consist of shot after shot of a key being removed from a dresser. Different angles, different lighting, until I get the correct shot and the dream continues.
A lot has happened. Nothing earth shattering or even important to anyone but me.

Click images for desktop size: "Gloucester Harbor" by Edward Hopper I went to the Doctor's on Friday, the GP. He gave me some chores. On Saturday my friend and I got the prescriptions filled. We got the Blood Pressure machine and more diabetic testing strips.
My blood pressure is high. Not scary so but high. 150 over 86 one morning! I'm putting it off to the pain and the tension about even using the blood pressure machine.
I haven't been checking my blood sugars as well as I normally should. The strips cost like eighty bucks for a months supply, so I got into the habit of only checking it when I felt weird or wanted to eat something on the "unapproved" list.
There's nothing to justify this. My blood sugars have been a bit on the high side. As the diabetes at this stage could lead to blindness or to losing a limb I'll have to go back to being paranoid checking them even after I finish the doc's medical stats diary.
Diabetes is a degenerative disease. It only gets worse. Its like a car, as much as you pray a knock in the car isn't going to go away until it breaks down or you get it fixed. I'll have to keep a tighter rein on everything.
Today becomes the first day of my extended walking exercise program. Its hard to figure. I can walk 2 miles in less than a half hour by myself. When I walk the dogs the same walk takes about 90 minutes. Some of that extra time is due to weird little doggie detours and stopping to smell the lamp posts of life.
I also have to figure where we're going to walk to. My puppy and the giant dog don't like going to too many new places so I need to double our walking time while staying relatively close to their comfort zone and working my body a bit.
I think that means walking around in circles.
On Saturday we too of on a mini shopping spree. The main goal was this decent second hand book store.
We also made a run for Gluten Free Ice Cream Cones for my friend. The place where she used to go for them was closed. HAd the sign up: "Under New Ownership Opening Soon".
Every time I see that I wince. The Oriental Theater on Sunset had that sign on their marquee for 4 years until it finally reopened; not as a movie house but as "The Guitar Center".
We went to 4 other health food joints on a vain quest for the elusive ice cream cone.
My friend got three vegan cookbooks she'd been coveting. Not second hand. She's been working like
Click images for desktop size: "Favorite Poet" by Alma Tadema a lost slave for the past couple months. I was pleased she'd gotten something that mad her eyes light up.
We stopped for lunch at some sea food place. Eating out was hard on me. I could barely chew. I had a "Cajun" Poor boy sandwich that I ate with a knife and fork. I never learn to not order cajun food except in Louisiana. It was okay for all that. It felt alien to be sitting in a restaurant with just my friend. I liked it. I still have this habit of always looking around for someone I might know.
We finally got to the bookstore and they had a sale on cookbooks! 35% off. RAH! My friend got 11! I found three of my Destroyer books, all three of them ghosted by my friend Will.
We drove home. The car did fine and we felt happy.
Sunday was just a lounging around day. Need those periodically. Monday my friend took the day off. We had some light plans but it turned into another lounging around day.
I'd enjoyed "King of the Texas Rangers" so much I decided to check out some more serials. I was disappointed, not in the serials themselves but in the discs. The Columbia serials (which tend to have better actors but less excitement and poorer special effects) looked like they'd been mastered from beat to death VHS tapes. There's was tearing at the bottom and occasional rolling!
The Republic serial, "Dick Tracy" looked like it was a CAM but not recorded from a screen but from an old sheet hung in a windy barn!
"Daredevils of the Red Circle" suffered from the same flaws but was,
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Soa Lee so far, at least watchable. Its pretty cool. The heroes are circus daredevils! The youngest is an escape artist, the middle (Herman Brix) a strong man, and the eldest an Olympic High Diver and Rhodes Scholar, or something similar.
Its been decent so far but its still hard to understand how Brix can stop crooks from fleeing by lifting up the rear end of their car but is lousy in the fights!
I also watched "The Yakuza". An old movie I first became aware of when I was a kid. The whole town was talking it up. Paul Schrader had managed to get the studios into a major bidding contest. Martin Scorsese was begging to make the movie. Sadly Sidney Pollack, he of "Tootsie" fame got the deal. If you'd ask me who would be the least competent director to make a big budget yakuza flic Pollack would have been near the top of the list.
It was cool that they had the brains to get a still fit and exceptional Ken Takura to play the lead. Even cooler they got sleepy eyed Robert Mitchum to play the American in Japan.
It was interesting to see how Pollack destroyed a great story. Takura and Mitchum wiping out a yakuza gang should have been classic but it was just boring. The only other time I saw it was when it first came out. I thought it was boring then. Sad that my kid instincts were justified by the crusty old man reality of today.
I can't help but thinking about how cool it could have been.
Dog baths today. The world quakes.

Posted by David at 10:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Gunfighter" by Gerald Brom The dogs were crazy yesterday. I like them crazy when they're crazy happy.
Last night my puppy was sitting in front of me and I was overwhelmed with a feeling of contentment and love.
I'm reminded everyday that I'm still capable of that sort of depth of feeling. It was just slightly surprising to feel it for my puppy.
I like what she is and what she's become.
In all of the hullaballoo of illness and all I think I forgot to report that the dogs and I are heroes. On the day the gentle dog went to work with my friend Giant dog and my puppy were walking around the park (to avoid the flooding) and a little white dog, sort of a Maltese Yorkie mix kind of thing came up and tried to play with my dogs.
It was having a world of fun bounding at them and wiggling its butt at
Click images for desktop size: "Japanese Poems" by Eisen them. I took the leash off of my puppy and, after three attempts, managed to snag the little girl. She had a tag on her and she was lucky I knew the address or at least where to look for the address.
I was worried about walking with my puppy without a leash. She seemed to understand and walked in a perfect heel the entire way.
We found the apartment building and a passing woman recognized the dog. She gave us the apartment number as she hustled away.
We knocked. The little white dog was getting agitated. A woman in her late 70's or early 80's answered. She was scared. I forgot that tall men in shades and leather might not be the most comforting thing to see at your door. She was in a walker. I noticed, in retrospect that she had the walker jammed in such a way that I couldn't have pressed in to her home too easily.
When she saw the little white dog she let out a screech. The little dog, clearly with lots of practice
Click images for desktop size: "Girl and Parrot" by Unknown scaled the walker and into her arms. She started to tremble and cry. I was worried she'd have a stroke or something. Between sobs she told me that the little dog had been lost for almost 3 days. He grand daughter took her for a walk on Sunday and she escaped (the dog, not the grand daughter . . . I think). She'd been calling the shelter. I saw a stack of about a hundred fliers with the little dogs picture xeroxed in it. She was going to put them up today. She complained about how her son-in-law wouldn't come help her.
She offered us a reward. I declined. I'm stupid that way. My puppy and the giant dog both pointed out that they were the real heroes and extorted a couple of milk bones from the old lady.
We walked home happy.
This reminds me of how many things go in the day that I forget, that I don't record and that I'll have no place left to find those memories again.
My friend is still sick. Now she's added vomiting during the night to her cough and general achiness. Without much hassle I convinced her to go to the doctor. He wasn't much help. Gave her prescription for an antibiotic, more as a preventive against a lung infection and some sort of inhaler.
Its no miracle cure but I feel better that something might be getting done to heal her. Her spirits are better.
I wonder how much of this is due to stress and conflict with her new temporary boss. Her old boss, who retired, was a nationally recognized figure in Conservation and Wild Life preservation. The two of them got along very very well.
The new boss is a national VP who has taken on some extra duties and seems committed to rising
Click images for desktop size: "Alice 19th" by Abstract Anime up the corporate ladder (at least whatever ladder there is in a not for profit). Her background is banking.
My friend reports her saying a number of "slogans" that I attribute to MBA's who are out of their depth. The new boss also has few social skills. I've dealt with so many people with poor social skills a lot of her responses are almost text book.
It frustrates me as all I can do is be supportive and try to give some insight. The insight is to never openly defy such a person, no matter how stupid their demands are. They can't handle that. Most people can't cope well with open defiance but for this type its enough to send them into a paroxysm. Stick to your guns (which I don't even need to vocalize to my friend - she's like that) and so long as the MBA isn't threatened and can see your correctness in such a way that she can take credit you'll eventually win. Its a painful process.
It slowly seems to be working. I just hope my friend can survive it.
I've been all twisted up with sickness too. More of a general malaise then anything. I'm pretty certain its not "empathy" sickness. I'm not that sort of empathetic person.
That reminds me of this kid who came to play for my team. He lived about two hours away by train! He never missed a practice. He just wanted to be a great athlete. He wasn't very good but he had heart and sometimes that's enough.
As a coach your main job is to see the potential. If you can't see it its the coaches fault, not the kids. This kid wanted to be a linebacker. He didn't have the size, speed or strength to play linebacker. I tried him at strong safety, which was a better fit. We were working on his speed and footwork as well as training him in reading formations.
During practice he was off with some kids while I was working a passing tree with the RB's, slot backs, and tight ends. Suddenly I heard a horrible screech. The kid was on his knees crying, holding his left arm. I've got my Red Cross first aid certificate and a St Johns certificate and one of my coaches day job was as a paramedic so I felt confident enough to cut his pads from him. He had the worst dislocated shoulder I have ever seen!
I'm serious when I say that a dislocated shoulder is the worst pain I've ever felt. But when you pop it back in its almost like nothing that bad had ever happened. I've been seeing black from dislocated shoulders and did crazy stuff like wedging my arms between fence posts to pop it back in the socket. It hurts bad.
This kids shoulder was, no exaggeration, sticking about 5 inches above his clavicle. I'm so
Click images for desktop size: "Japanese Print" by Unknown empathetic to the pain of others that I thought it was the coolest thing I'd ever seen. Jocks have the tendency of being fascinated with the injuries of others. There was no way we were going to attempt to pop this in on our own. It took three kids to carry him to the car. Two making a cradle and one just supporting his arm.
I took him to hospital and the doctors were also horrified. They had a machine they'd never had to use that winched his arm out so they could line it up and pop it into the socket. They were excited about getting to use this piece of shiny gear . . .and my empathy reached so far as to remember to not grin or laugh about the severity of the energy. Of course I was worried and concerned but underneath those layers was the, "Have you ever seen anything so cool!" I'd have ignored it if the two doctors weren't so excited about getting to use that new piece of gear.
So I don't think that my unwellness has anything to do with empathy with my friends illness. No history to justify that.
I'm just feeling beaten up. Not that big a deal. My teeth are killing me. I can barely wait for the dentist on Tuesday. The pain has gotten to the point where the right side of my face is numb. That always brings up scary memories of the bout with Bells Palsy.
I can still laugh.

Posted by David at 11:24 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Oasis" by Michael Parkes The gentle dog went to work with my friend. My puppy, surprisingly misses him. I figure they had some adventure penciled into their schedule.
It always feels odd, now, having only two dogs. I know I liked it best when I had four. Having only two is like looking at the dregs in the bottle.
I'm going to put the giant dog on the corner. With his new haircut
Click images for desktop size: "The Beatles" and all I'll turn him into a "working dog". Get him to approach cars and people, 10 minutes of pets for a nickel. My puppy will be his "business manager". If we can avoid the vice cops we should make a few dollars.
It works out well though. The two remaining enjoy the extra attention, the extra room. Its easier to walk two dogs than three but three requires almost no effort. Getting pulled down on ice requires no effort at all, at least from me. I can fall down with almost no assistance at all.
Bad pain day. This is still a house filled with love and germs.
My friend coughed badly all night. She was feeling better but relapsed. I'm in what should be the final bad day of the germ. Tomorrow I should be recovering and I should be fine by Thursday night.
Last night I fell asleep watching a movie. It was an interesting one too.
This Hong Kong based company has set itself a lofty goal; they're releasing every Shaw Brothers film ever made on DVD. Remastering them, cleaning up the soundtracks and trying to present them
Click images for desktop size: "Unknown" as classics. Guys like me appreciate that. (Quentin Tarentino does to. I have to admit it irks me that he's cadged the Shaw Brothers opening logo to open his movies. It seems some how disrespectful . . . if its possible to disrespect a movie studio, a money making operation).
Shaw Brothers always had the rep for making the best, slickest looking movies in Asia. Decent film stock, wonderfully detailed sets and a host of the best directors and a stable of Asian Superstars. They reworked the old Hollywood studio system, keeping their top talent working almost non-stop.
After Shaw Brothers broke the king fu movie at Cannes in the 70's they became an international force. Golden Harvest, who vacillated between making some of the best and the worst movies going - but they had Bruce Lee - benefited greatly from the superior product coming from their rivals.
What's cool is that Celestial has finally gotten into the movies that Shaw Brothers was making before they broke the genre world wide. This is the first time that these films have been able to be seen outside of China or your local China Town movie theater.
(I've always liked the theaters in China town and Little Tokyo. The Japanese theaters were always SOA but the Chinese theaters were always grim affairs with projection bulbs that were somehow always old and close to death. Its like the mystery of how some guys always managed to have 3 days growth of beard, never four and never clean shaven. Chinese Movie Houses (at least in LA) always had a dim bulb that would finally burn out in 10 hours. And of course the snacks for sale in the lobby were . . . interesting. Dried fish, strange crackers and popcorn you'd have to be fool hardy or at least braver than me to try.)
The new/old movies Celestial is bringing out are at least interesting and sometimes exquisite. The level of kung fu in the movies is far below what we've come to expect. For some reason every genre of Shaw Brothers films seems to require at least two kung fu battles. I'm not complaining.
So far I've been able to see "The Impostor" a sort of whacky story about David Chiang being this heavy duty altruist who is also a master of disguise. He's bored, rich and nosey, so he solves crimes . . . Its very amenable.
"The Delightful Forest" (The movie I fell asleep during last night) is a part of "The Water Margin" (The classic ultimate Chinese novel about freedom and brotherhood). Its got Lung Ti, an actor who's
Click images for desktop size: "St Catherine" by Carlo Dolci career has easily spanned five decades! Lung Ti is this incredibly moral guy who also happens to be a devastating fighter. He' thrown in prison, a prison he could easily escape but choses not to as that would be wrong. The Delightful Forest of the title is a town of gambling casinos and brothels . . . what I saw was entertaining.
I've got about four more to see and more promised. These movies all hold enough potential that I keep thinking that there's going to be a mind blasting movie coming up any second. Maybe not but the search and expectations are a lot of fun.
Of the four I have seen none of them were disastrous or boring and that's saying something.
I might have gotten he dishwasher fixed. I tried not to tear it apart but to just fix most of it in place. The water here must be pretty hard. Mainly I had to pick out chunks of lime and calcium! It was hampering the spray of water.
Did a full load last night. I'm afraid to look at the dishes. If they're not clean it means I have to take the whole thing apart again. I usually enjoy that sort of thing. For some reason the dishwasher falls outside my list of things I like to take apart.
I only have six episodes of "King of the Rangers". I really hope I can get the last six. Its very enjoyable on its own level. I admit that part of the enjoyment is watching "Slingin'" Sammy Baugh attempt to act. They give him few lines, fortunately. He recites them like a six year old trying to remember a piece for his first assembly.
The only draw back is that Duncan Renaldo is so great its a shame that he keeps being limited to being the side kick, the guy who screws up and gets slugged so the bad guys can escape. Its still a potent good time serial.
I've set a deadline of this weekend to finish up a new little movie for my puppy's blog. The kids are starting to write and bug HER to get something new posted. I wish I had simpler ideas . . .

Posted by David at 10:17 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Pin Up Art" by JW McGinnis Just like in books movies have scenes, moments mainly, that stay fresh and alive in our minds forever. Since the genius of the scenes in books are always open to our personal interpretation, (I always imagine the hero as looking like me . . . sort of thing) and the moments in movies are plastic concrete, universal and indisputable, I prefer movies.
No surprise there.
The dogs woke me at 1:30 this morning. I still have no idea why, although I expect it has something to do with two new dogs who moved into the area, even though they're about 200 yards away at the closest point to our yard, our dogs take great umbrage to their presence.
I woke up in pain. After letting the dogs out I took some ibuprofen and meditated about some of the great moments in movies. It helped get me to sleep in a nice way.
Somehow think about movies almost always starts with John Wayne. I don't know why, it just does. I guess I'm still surprised that he was a lineman at USC.
Wayne had a few great moments; indelible scenes that stay with you forever. Whenever things get hopeless I always have a flash of Wayne as Ringo in "Stagecoach", falling forward into the dust as he takes on three bad guys with only a winchester and 3 bullets. And that moment in "True Grit" when Wayne confronts Robert Duvall and Duvall's gang in the natural arena. After Duvall points out the obvious truth that Wayne is old, fat, one eyed and tired Wayne shouts, "Fill your hands you sonsabitches!" Put his horse's reins in his mouth and rides at the gang firing wildly.
A lot of movies have moments like that, moments that help us survive what our own imaginations
Click images for desktop size: "Kitchen" by Unknown might not let us survive. That's one of the reasons for art.
I wasn't thinking about those moments I was thinking about the moments that codify a movie so well that it burns and illuminates not only our lives but the lives of others, enabling to let us see things we perhaps never even sensed.
Like for me the greatest moment for Wayne came in "The Searchers". Its a movie loaded with great moments, like the crazy teenaged girls who've escaped the Apaches, or the moment when Wayne scoops up Natalie Wood as though she were no more significant than a doll, a wisp an image. But moment that fits my definition is when Wayne returns Natalie Woods to her family. He stands in the doorway a hero, but a hero ignored, Jeff Chandler pushes past him and we know that because of Wayne's efforts all will be better for the world, the people in that house whose life he has touched and improved will leave a version of happily ever after. But Wayne just stands in the doorway, gripping his own right arm with his left hand, while the Sons of the Pioneers acting like some bumpkin Greek chorus exhort him to ride away, ride way.
The house looks so dark, cool and inviting. We know it is filled with celebration and happiness, while the world beyond the doorway is bright, harsh and unrelenting. (The technology required to get that shot are remarkable considering 1957 film stock and lenses.) And Wayne turns away and does that John Wayne walk to his horse while invisible hands slam the door shut, locking him forever outside.
What makes this great is that in 45 seconds without being lectured or told we understand so many things; the nature of heroes, the way some men are meant to only be alone, how single decisions can unhinge and change the trajectory of a life, decisions fueled not with logic but with emotion.

Click images for desktop size: "The Monkees" I'm glad they never made a sequel to "The Searchers". It would have destroyed that perfect moment.
Who doesn't remember Steve McQueen in "The Great Escape"? When he's sitting on his motorcycle looking at the miles long barbed wired fence that is the only impediment to his freedom. The German army closing in on him, surrounding him. And that moment when he revs the bike up, spins it around and makes that unforgettable leap. A fails.
What propels the scene from cool to the frisson I'm talking about is that while McQueen lies tangled in the wire that this is not a failure, its just a set back. He'll escape and if needed he'll escape again. Freedom is our nature and it doesn't take greatness or even great determination for all of us to be seeking freedom until we finally succeed.
There is a difference between totally cool and the frisson that impacts and makes fact of the swirl of thoughts and emotions that circulate around us everyday. Clint Eastwood's "The Unforgiven" offers up the best example of this. Everyone remembers the final scene in the bar where Eastwood blows everything apart and there's that great confrontation between Eastwood and Gene Hackman where Eastwood hisses out the line, "I've killed women and children, just about everything that's lived or crawled and now I'm going to kill you."
That scene is just cool entertainment but the scene proceeding, the
Click images for desktop size: "New Ponies" by Unknown bit that sets all this up is the powerful one that cuts to the quick of our humanity.
The whole film has shown Eastwood to be extremely strong, strong enough to change his life for a woman he loves and after she passes away his strength carries him through to continue for the sake of his two children. The biggest change has been for him to avoid liquor at all costs. Eastwood listens to the girl who brings them their money. He listens to the atrocities Little Bill has perpetuated against Eastwood's only friend.
Against a silver streaked black and gray sky he listens and in his shock and pain he gets week. He takes a bottle of whiskey and in between his horrified questions he pours the whiskey down his throat. The camera takes a low angle as if to frame him heroically against dramatic sky. Eastwood's aged face and cracking voice destroy any illusion of heroism, it simply denies us the ease of assuming he's transforming into a mere beast.
And its in that moment that so much is revealed about ourselves. The little kid cheerleader who sees the whiskey as Eastwood's spinach. We know as he drinks he's turing into an indomitable killer.
Click images for desktop size: "Life Is A Stage" by WallColl Then there's the profound sadness. We see a man so overcome with grief at losing his friend that he destroys himself the only way he knows will work. Eastwood gives up the sobriety and humanity he has struggled to maintain for nearly a many years as he was a mad outlaw. He gives up what he has fought to become out of rage, loneliness and a love for another that is greater than the love he has for himself.
"A Man Who Was Superman" is a movie I hold in high regard. I seem to be pretty much alone in this. Its okay. I can always wait for the rest of the world to catch up.
"A Man Who Was Superman" has a lot of those cool moments. But it also has an explosive scene that plays so simply and elegantly that it speaks not only of talent but fortuitous happenstance.
The movie is about this guy who is stark raving bonkers. He dresses in bright Hawaiian shirts and chinos. This is his "Superman" outfit. Most of the time he is deliriously happy. He spends his days helping people, saving kids, catching purse snatchers, doing what he can to save the planet. He always smiles, remembers people and adores his life.
He has bad moments. He can't always fly because Lex Luthor has exposed him to kryptonite. And he has psychotic breaks. He lives in a condemned building. One morning the wreckers show up. He sees the bulldozers as carnivorous monsters. He fights them.
This fight lands him back in the mental hospital. They treat him. He's heals. The medicate him to at least hold his level of healing. Everyone is certain they are doing the best for him.
"Superman" becomes Mon Suk. Mon Suk shuffles through life. Not happy. Not sad, He simply is. He remembers the trauma that drove him to madness but it is a distant memory that he cannot touch. The drugs see to that.
In his madness Mon Suk was tracking down a beast that lived in the sewers. It turns out the beast was actually a patch of explosive methane gas. It blows.
Mon Suk is a witness to the explosion. Many people are hurt, house and cars catch a fire. The fire engines rushing to the scene get caught up in the explosion. There is no more help coming.
For every person injured there are ten spectators who watch.
Mon Suk watches too and sees that a little five year old girl who was "Superman's" friend is trapped in the fire, trapped on the third floor. And the drugs that keep him calm, that keep him in twilight
Click images for desktop size: "Monkey" by WallColl allow him to simply watch.
Helpless he turns and walks away, doing that drug induced shuffle, holding his briefcase to his chest. He walks away.
A friend goes to look for him and she finds Mon Suk at a garden hose. He's dousing his head and his clothes. At first she thinks he's gone mad again but then she realizes that he's planning to go into the fire and rescue the girl. I guess you can't kill Superman.
In that moment you realize that sanity does not always mean happiness and that sometimes it takes insanity to save the world. It rushes at you and forces you to identify with Mon Suk. It makes you realize we can all be something more than the rest of the world thinks we can be. Its beautiful and its frightening.

Meditating on movies always brings something out of me. Something I feel is good. Even bad movies can sometimes have that fleeting movement where happenstance has more art than the guys behind or in front of the camera. Moments that encapsulate life and meaning.
I love the movies.

Its been raining for 18 hours now. Hard rain. All the snow has melted and the ground feels like primordial ooze. The dogs all had groomer baths . . . gentle dog and giant dog also got haircuts. My puppy got her nails trimmed. They seem to enjoy ruining the clean look playing in the muck. They make me laugh and it will all wash off eventually.
I'm pretty much over the cold. One odd side effect. I seem to have expended so much energy fighting the cold that I'm irretrievably fatigued. It takes a huge amount of energy just to move.
It's nowhere near the fatigue from leukemia. I just don't like it. I don't like the feeling of wanting to just curl up in a ball and forget the world. The rain and mud makes me not want to take a walk with the dogs. I may have to anyway. Cold rain and mud are better than this feeling.
My friend's cold is still lingering! This worries me more than I'm worried about myself.
She basically had two days off. She had to drive an hour to a meeting (GO GO LITTLE NEW CAR!) and then we had a lot of errands to run but I would have hoped that it would have been a gentle enough time for her to recover more fully.
We picked up our new glasses. Just lenses, used old frames. They help me a lot. Even through the cataract. I have to wear them a couple of weeks to see if my eyes are stable enough to invest in the tinted bifocals I'm supposed to wear outside.

Posted by David at 11:19 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Eclipse of Saturn" by Unknown We were going to get the dogs groomed this weekend but changed plans; we've decided to groom ourselves.
I've re-evaluated my stand on the five dollar haircut. I've decided to go as high as SEVEN DOLLARS! You can't put a price on good grooming. Well, I guess you can and that price is seven bucks.
Women's haircuts cost more. I reckon its because they have so much more hair. But I realize its probably not sold by weight or volume. They must charge more because women are notoriously fussy about their looks. I figure my friend's haircut will probably go ten maybe even twelve dollars.
I just hope there's no riot of hair dressers clamouring for our custom when they find out the excessive amount we're willing to spend.
We both went to the eye doctor yesterday. It could have been worse.
The doctor was pretty good. Just looking at the photo's and without reading any medical history could see the effects of chemo and diabetes.
My vision has not degraded as much in the past year as I feared. There's some degradation but not as much as my ailments would normally cause, so I'm doing okay on that score.
There were two hemorrhaged blood vessels in the right eye and four in the left. None of them were major veins or killing hemorrhages.
The cataract in my right eye, the one from a football trauma, is still just there. No real problem. The cataract in my left eye, the one caused and common to chemo is growing. Its gotten so bad that
Click images for desktop size: "El Capitan" by Matt Mosher the photo of my eye was close to worthless. It blurred the image as badly going in as it did coming out.
I had to get my eyes dilated anyway but now I had to use something "extra" so the doc could get a clear view in my eye for a closer inspection.
Right now the cataract is growing but not yet to the point of surgery. The doc said that these sort of cataracts can change rapidly. I have to keep "an eye" on it . . . Doctors have dog like senses of humour.
She said that I might not ever need the cataract surgery. The implication being that I might not live long enough to need it. The doc got a touch nervous while she tried to rephrase the statement. Explained she's not an oncologist and asked permission to send the info to my regular doctor.
I appreciate sensitivity, especially when its directed towards me . . . or anyone really.
The only real negative of the whole experience was that my friend had her eye exam first. This gave me the chance to try on every frame they had in the little adjunct optometrist shop.
In those mirrors I was startled at how bad I looked. Homeless, scruffy. I looked haggard, tired but still
Click images: "Fashion And Politics" by S4W remarkably sexy. It was the main reason I decided to raise my offer for a haircut.
The mirror used to be my best friend.

My friends new car is working out well. She looks cute in it. She looks cute anyway but the new car enhances it better than cosmetic surgery, I think.
Two problems with it. When we got it home from the car lot there was smoke billowing from the left rear wheel! It smelled like terrible. I assumed it was a brake pad burning up, or worse, a wheel bearing. Its hasn't happened since but there's now a bad squeaking coming from the same axle.
The second issue is that the car was advertised as having cruise control. According to the manual cruise control is standard equipment. But there's no cruise control.
I called the car lot. We've got 7 months of warranty. Once again they startled me in a positive way.
I was all armed with my meg adult voice. The one constantly tinged with a hint of disapproval and just three tics left of anger. I meet nothing but pleasantness. They said we could bring it in and they'd even give us a loaner!!

Click images for desktop size: "Emily Dolphin" by Unknown Since my friends assistant has a 3 month old brand new Hundayi that had a strange freezing issue and they didn't offer a loaner, this was a big surprise. To take it even further they said we could take it to our own mechanic and if it were a smaller repair he could do it and they'd pay for it!
We took it to our mechanic to pick up the cash from junking the old car. That was sad. My friend had the car from the day it was born and had had i for ten years. He went and looked at the new car, tested it and said it was safe enough for now but to pay attention. (Boy, we sure have a lot of stuff to pay attention to.)

The dogs are fine. They don't even seem upset about not getting baths this weekend . . . They also approve of the new car. More room for lying down they say. Only my puppy is unsure, but she always hates anything new.
My friend had to go the "The Big City" about 100 miles away for a retirement dinner/business meeting. (The car did fine, even coped well with her getting lost and driving the wrong way down a one way street) While I was outside opening the gate for her the dogs started a terrible racket, with my puppy putting up a terrible heart wrenching howl.
When I went in (I was invited to the free food fest!) she clung close to me while the other two ran outside to inspect the gate, certain my friend would realize that my friend had forgotten to take a dog with her. My puppy wouldn't go out with them.
I fell asleep sitting up on the sofa and woke up twenty minutes later with my puppy pressed hard against me, her head resting on my stomach while the giant dog was on the other side with his head on my shoulder. There was no more room on the sofa so gentle dog was wrapped around my feet.
I have no idea why they decided I might abandon them.

Posted by David at 10:41 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Vampi" by Frank Frazetta I need a haircut.
A good five buck haircut. I know they exist.

When I was a little kid my mother and I would go visit people. Invariably, when it got late, we'd stay the night. This meant I had to sleep on the floor. I liked it. It felt like being someplace special. I never got to sleep on the floor at home so this was an adventure.
The best times were when my uncle would stumble out in the middle of the night and trip over me. My aunt would yell at him and my cousins would all come out to watch the trouble. I craved excitement then the way only a five year old who dreamed of talking helicopters would.
I no longer like sleeping on the floor. Its still exciting. If you find
Click image: "The End of Romance" by Unknown dogs leaning over you at odd hours of the early morning exciting, anyway.
They like to snuffle me and check on what I'm doing and maybe see if I'm interested in a quick game of catch. Now that my friend is back home they don't insist on sleeping with me, they sort themselves out as usual, but they feel a canine duty to rotate checking up on me. Except my puppy. She comes, looks and then goes to pick out the prime sleeping spot.
My backs getting better, sleeping on the floor does help. My friend, in a simpatico move, tried to sleep on the floor with me one night.
That didn't work out. Especially when I discovered this meant I got about 20% of my pallet and NO covers! It was sweet but I prefer suffering and twisting around in private.
Today the pain is less but more enduring. I figure it was always feeling this way but I didn't notice due to the constant spikes of pain.
I've added two aspirins to my regular meds to, hopefully bring the inflammation down. I don't know if its helping.
The moist heat pad is doing something, I mean more than burning me. It loosens things up enough
Click images for desktop size: "Eternal Love" by Anonymous to do my exercises. (Mainly squats, lunges, undulating pushups, and crunches.)
I also tried the glucosamine sulfate. I figured it had worked so well on the dogs that it would help, maybe at least reduce the pain in my hands. It seem I should have done more research. In my case that means looking past page 1 on the google searches. You know, after all the adverts.
Seems that people with osteoporosis or people who've gone through chemo-therapy and diabetics should consult with a physician before taking . . .
The only negative side effect I seem to have had was a loosening of my teeth. That doesn't seem to be a normal side effect but was seen in less than 2% of those studied. Sometimes I take being unique too far.
Today will be spent doing laundry, doing my exercises and taking the dogs for a walk. Won't accomplish much more than that.
Yesterday we took the dogs for a walk. Its coming close to 60! Which mean everything is wet and ugly. There are also great patches of ice in the shade and on packed snow driveways and the like.
There never were any ice storms. I figure ice rain is one of those jokes the locals like to pull on tourists and new comers.
The dogs didn't knock me down at all! My friend was with me. They were behaving so well so that she'll be a witness for them at the trial after they murder me. "I'm sure the dogs weren't responsible. They're so well behaved. Look, they heel so beautifully and never ever pull on the leash!"
Its a sad day when dogs become as devious as cats.
My friend went to work today. Her assistant came and picked her up. I think that was very nice. Her assistant bought her puppy along. He'd just been fixed and had his dew claws removed. Being a puppy he was still cranked and excited. I liked him immensely. When she goes to Aruba we may get to take care of him. I only hope my dogs don't infect him with their murderous intents towards me.

Spam has become a problem again. Blocking the IP's seems to be the only quick solution. The email spam just bugs me. My puppy's email address seems to be the focus of dating sites! I get all the viagra ads and fake watch spam.

Click images for desktop size: "Tracks" by Sarrongbom The comment spam is effectively blocks by Movable Type.
The junk that comes here is just silly. The stuff that comes to my puppy's site is discouraging and horrifying. Bestiality and one Child Porn spam. The Child Porn one I forwarded to all the cops I could think of. (I used to be a Pete Townshend fan until he got busted with a computer full of child porn. This was about the same time Gary Glitter and Jonathan King were in court for the same thing. Glitter and King went to prison. Townshend's story was that he was doing research on a book . . . never heard another thing about Townshend. Glitter and King; you got to sell more albums, I guess. I don't listen to Townshend anymore.)
One thing I'm considering is a robot.txt file to stop some of the bots that crawl the site. It would stop google , yahoo and the legitimate ones easily enough. It would have to be pretty strict to stop the spam bots, and then would have minimal effect and none at all on the more aggressive ones.
I don't have advertising so search engine visitors are pretty meaningless to me. Most of them I don't know. They just come to "harvest" the graphics. I don't care about that. I'm glad that people appreciate them. I hope as much as I do.
But google still sometimes lets old friends find the site. And like, there was the David Drake book I was agonizing over because I couldn't remember the title. Some nice fellow left a comment telling me the title was most likely "Killer" and he left a link so I could read more about the book. I liked that.
More problematic is my puppies site. I really get sick at the idea of some kid clicking on a link for one of those porn sites. Movable Type has not ever let one through. Small comfort.
90% of the kids who visit her site come from hospitals and about 20% of that from grammar
Click images for desktop size: "Spider" by WallpaperMania schools. But a number of kids still come to the site by doing a search. Popular searches are "Shelby and Blue", "silly dog Shelby", "the great black dog", even, "Shelby and Ben" and my latest favorite, "Shelby the dog who is smarter than David".
Even if they are only 10% or less of the traffic I fret that these kids may be the most in need of looking at pictures of silly dogs.
I guess my internet time today will be spent trying to figure out how to write a proper robot.txt file that might accomplish what I need.

That should leave me enough time to worry about the economy and wonder why Obama thinks the Republicans are interested in bipartisanship. He better get hip.
They and most of the democrats just want to stay rich and get richer. They're all going to take care of their buddies a long time before they worry about us.

Posted by David at 11:31 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Spirit of the Summit" by Charles Leighton I made a dumb mistake Thursday night. My friend got home safely so I was feeling buoyant. I decided to sleep in bed instead of the floor.
A mistake. Woke up Friday and my back was worse that before. Had to take a 90 minute drive with my friend which aggravated it some. No more rental car after that trip so I enjoyed the ride and enjoyed being with my friend, then paid a small price.
I did discover something interesting. For the first time I felt cold. Like some people can only think about one thing at a time it appears I can only ignore one thing at a time. I could keep my back under control enough to not walk like a freak but to do that I had to let my
"In the Wake of the Buffalo Hunters" by Charles Russell body feel the cold. Interesting, at least to me.
Slept on the floor last night. The giant dog was ecstatic that mr friend had returned home so he stayed with her through the night with only four trips off the bed to snuffle my face. I guess he was worried I might do something interesting and he'd miss it.
My puppy stayed close to me. I think she figured I'd do something stupid. She finally settled on a position where she could keep an eye both on the bedroom and on me. Why this was important when all she did was fall asleep probably has some deep dog logic that I'll never be privy to.
The gentle dog was pretty angry that my friend had gone away and not taken him with her. After his
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Steve Argyle initial enthusiastic greeting her spent the rest of the time pointedly ignoring her. Sometimes he would have to go over and nudge her just so that she would see that she was being ignored. No point in ignoring someone you love unless they know they're being ignored.

I spoke to the car lot and explained the situation. I was as honest as you can be with strangers. I was surprised that they had no problem holding the car for the two weeks! Better yet they were going to start doing all the certification the same as if we had the money in hand.
Amazing amount of trust from them, I think. And no word from the bank at all. Bank silence just added somewhat to my tension over this.
Next week my friends assistant is going to give her rides back and forth from work. I worry that the assistant doesn't know what she's gotten into. If she already knows the time and distance then you have to be even more grateful. At least I do.
I'm not considering what ulterior motives any of this could portend. No reason to think like that.

No football this weekend.
The pro bowl hardly counts.

I've stopped using the "Google Search Box" app. The third alpha is a significant improvement but it still doesn't do all I want. Unlike Quicksilver it still doesn't remember the last app you used. Quicksilver was able to remember the weird abbreviations I used to call up apps and functions, like hb calls Handbrake and ps calls Photoshop.

Click images for desktop size: "Star Ball" by Unknown The "Google Search Box" still requires I type in most of the name, which is time consuming as "photo" calls up a half dozen apps with Photoshop buried in the middle somewhere. The app does learn that "photo" means I want Photoshop but PS only gives me the option to do an on-line search!
Also the "Google" thing doesn't do append and edit calls like Quicksilver. At least not yet. I'm used to editing with Quicksilver so that I could call up an html doc and at the same time open Smultron or Komodo to edit it, while using Quicksilver to append at second document to the first.
Very quick and very easy.
The final thing I dislike about all Google apps is it insistence on installing spyware disguised as Updaters. I'm used to deleting that stuff but its tedious. I'm always nervous when an app insists on a root password to install itself. That's a Windows thing and its stupid. They should give me the option. I resent an application transmitting info without asking me if I want it to. I also see no sense in an app checking hourly to see if it (or its brother apps) can be updated.
All google apps do this. I use as few of them as I can.
I still plan to keep trying out new build of the search box. Its got potential, for sure.
I watched a great old movie. WC Field's "It's A Gift". Its not the best Field's movie by far but it is funny. I laughed out loud a half dozen times. The movie only lasts 65 minutes so it never gets a chance to flag, nor do any of the scenes ever feel rushed.
Its not as awesome as "The Bank Dick" nor as insane as "Never Give a Sucker an Even Break", but it was memorable and leaves you chuckling hours later.

It is supposed to be 40 today with promises of icey rain . . . whoever heard of such a thing? Ice rain? It promises to make this world a very gross, muddy flooded place. All this snow starting to melt and rain and ice . . . I prefer the cold if this is the way they announce spring around here.
So I'm going to the store. Tempting fate, seeing if I can get there and back before the ice torrents fall.
Its what passes for dare deviltry with me now.
I'm taking my puppy. She needs a thrill too.

Posted by David at 9:35 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Legs" by Unknown Its snowing. The drought is over.
Looking forward to shoveling and scooping and having dogs in my way while I do it.

My friend is going to work at home for the rest of the week. She found out yesterday that she has to go out of town for three days next week. The good part is that the company (a not for profit) will pay for the rental car.
Yesterday I made tuna melts on gluten free rye bread for her lunch, (plain ol' tuna salad for me) and then shrimp taco's with chipolite
Click images for desktop size: "The Waterhole" by Unknownpeppers for dinner. They were too hot but I liked them.
Today I have no idea for meals . . . The extent of my menu's usually runs only to days. My normal lunch is stuff she can't or won't eat; popcorn, cereal, macaroni and cheese . . . Now I'll have to think. Not my strongest suit.
Last night we saw the best American dog movie I've seen in a while: "Hotel for Dogs". There's a lot wrong with it. Mainly the script is pure Sid Fields.
Sid fields was a not very successful screenplay writer who needed money so he wrote a book on how to write a screenplay. I don't remember the exact title. The main part of the book that is still dogging the industry was his breakdown of pages - it's like, 1-2 grabber, 3-4 introduction of characters and plot, 80 low point, 85 resolution etc.

Click images for desktop size: "Lenbach" by Franz Von Hirtenknabe An alarming number of producers in the 80's and 90's kept a copy of that breakdown in their desk or pocket. They'd run through a screenplay and order changes based on Field's breakdown. Their logic was movies A, B and C were the top three grossers that year and they all followed the Field's breakdown slavishly ergo if their movie did the same it would also have a shot.
A lot of people unfairly trash Hollywood movies. Field's breakdown actually gives them some footing for their arguments. When computers eventually begin to write the outlines for movies it will probably be Field's breakdown that forms the infrastructure and then they really will all look the same.
Anyway, "Hotel for Dogs" is a kids movie. A brother and sister are orphans living with Kevin Dillon. They're inept foster parents #10, funny and cruel without meaning to be.
The younger brother is something of a Rube Goldberg genius. They have a dog, "Friday" (as usual I can't remember any of the characters names, just the dogs' names). He creates an elevator so the dog, who they're hiding from the foster parents, can get out of their 3rd floor apartment and back into it on its own volition. Its a crazy cool device using a power drill and a paw activated button. You can tell the props department had a lot of fun building this and the other gadgets.
Through a series of misadventures the kids end up with 6 stray dogs. Fortunately they have also discovered an abandoned hotel. They stash the dogs there. Eventually they have to figure out how to feed and care for the dogs while they are at school. The kid starts to build some incredible devices that automatically feed, bathe, exercise and amuse the dogs. All the devices are doggie activated and they are cooler than the gizmo's Tim Burton dreamt up for "Pee Wee's Big Adventure". Most of the joy of the movie is in seeing these marvelous constructions work. Its tempting to say, "You gotta see the . . . " I won't. If I did there's not much left towards the joy of discovery.
The brother and sister are next joined by the empathetic cute boy, the pudgy girl and the smart alec fat kid who decide to work together and save every stray dog in the city from the villainous dog catchers. (You need a villain but the dog catchers aren't very upsetting, more or less just city employees doing a job they don't much care about, which is chillingly accurate).
The kids end up with about 60 dogs and the devices get even more astounding. Eventually they are discovered. The dogs are all taken to the pound and the bother and sister are sent to different orphanages. (The low point)

Click images for desktop size: "Fashion Sex & Food" by Unknown On the eve of their execution (odd Chidiock Tichbone reference) Friday escaped from the pound. Using that good common sense that only movie dogs are blessed with he reunites the cute boy and the sister, they rescue the younger brother and get pudgy girl and fat smart alec kid together and form a rather credible plan to rescue the dogs! (resolution).
Its pretty amusing stuff actually.
The conclusion of the film could have been, should have been trite. Don Cheadle plays the Social WOrker who saves the day.
If you've seen "Taken" you know that its just a pretty mediocre action/thriller except they have Liam Neeson as the lead. Neeson takes the part seriously and gives the silly tale a weight that most action stars bring through physicality. As in he can't bring the joy or believability of seeing Donnie Yen fly through a glass liquor cabinet but he can make the grim faced father stalking the killers real. While Clint Eastwood made his avengers compelling blankness that tunneled through to faded memories of hard earned happiness Neeson makes his avenging father a deeply etched creature of despair finding solace in duty.
In a similar vein Cheadle brings gravitas to his final resolution. He gives his enunciation a touching genuiness as real as his scenes in "Hotel Rawanda". It works and end the film on a proud note.
The dogs are all pretty wonderful and, for the most part, act like genuine dogs. They're delightful to watch and joyous in their approach to their new lives.
An odd film for me to warmly recommend.

Click images for desktop size: "Morning Enough" by Blurburger After the movie my friend made a comment that she didn't think my puppy much liked her. My puppy's breed characteristics tend towards aloofness mixed with goofiness, a strange reserve. They tend to show love and loyalty to one person and to care fervently for their pack, or their herd or their family.
My puppy loves my friend. She doesn't like many people. She loves kids but even then she has to size them up first.
When she was working as a therapy dog part of her rounds were to go from room to room and see if the occupant could benefit from petting a dog. Some people she simply would ignore. On her own property she dislikes strangers until she decides they are alright. She won't be trifled with.
I watched her viscously get in the face of a handyman on the property because he moved to fast towards me. She didn't bite but she made it clear she would if he got any closer. And this fellow liked dogs!
Unless you have a treat for her. She'll take treats from anyone.
The glucosamine seems to have had a rather rapid effect on the dogs. Gentle dogs limp is hardly apparent. I have to stare at him intently to notice any hint of it. The giant dog is running like a maniac when he's outside, clearly feeling good all over. I'm amazed that this happened so quickly. My hope is that the injury to gentle dog was so minor it didn't take much to correct.
My puppy shows no effect whatsoever . . . she just keeps on being she.
Oh, I've had to clamp down on the images again due to hot linking. Now they'll only appear directly on this site. Somebody linked to a full sized one not even just a thumbnail, on some bulletin board. It used to allow you to put the url to the image in your browser to see it. They used that technique to get around the normal policy. Band width is flying through the roof. I've had to stop that until the bulleting board page moves on.

Posted by David at 9:39 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Jazz" by Unknown No football this weekend. None.
Why bother with weekends if there's not a feeling of football.
It gives me time to think. Who needs time to think? What I think about is life and guilt.
Every time there's a tragedy there's a pretty human response to feel like some how you've failed. Like you could have done or didn't do the one thing that could have made things different. Somehow different always feels better.
Maybe its not a human thing. Maybe its a catholic thing, this guilt.

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by HK Pepnx II But like when the little blind dog died I spent weeks thinking what I could have done to give him more time. When the car died I still keep rolling through my mind what I could have done differently, what I should have done. Even when I conclude that we did what we could there's another possibility.
This doesn't detract from addressing issues. It doesn't bog you down. Maybe Catholics are trained to feel and deal with guilt.
We have found a place that sells cars at a reasonable cost. With a couple that look pretty possible. Used cars but . . .
When you remember that my first 3 cars each cost less than fifty bucks . . . I even got one car that ran until I sold it for a game ball used cars costing over 10 grand kind of freak me.
Some of these cars still have warranty time left so we'll check it out.
For various reasons that reminds me of stupid errands I did with my second car (the first car, a green 52 Pontiac with the amber indian head for a hood ornament [yes, older even than me] the one where I shoe polished the leather upholstery - the car still ran great, especially with my specially
Click images for desktop size: "Indians Hunting Buffalo" by Charles Marion designed coat hanger choke, but the smell of the shoe polish got you super sick after about 10 minutes).
I was writing songs so I thought I should check out some poetry. I was driving back from the beach when I saw this book store I'd heard of on the wrong side of the street. I did a you turn and went into Papa Bach's. It was a weird hippie joint. They burned incense which still makes me queasy. They had all these small press books and this line called new directions.
They had this book by William Borroughs. "Naked Lunch". I thought it was "Naked Came a Stranger" which was like this porno book I'd read about in the LA Times. It was supposed to be an "erotic" novel that was written by a different author in each chapter. Being a kid I was most stunned that women had written some of it. I was still convinced that women hated sex and only endured it with a huge amount of cajoling and pleading. The idea of women writing porn was jaw dropping.
I figured in this hippie shop they'd sell porn even to a grossly underaged kid. So I grabbed "Naked Lunch" (thinking it was "Naked Came a Stranger", how many books could there be with naked in the title anyway) grabbed a mess of small press poetry and New Directions books (to conceal my real intention was the purpose) and stood there, a fifteen year old surfer in baggies ready to make my purchase.
I went to school that day and spent the whole day reading "Naked Lunch" in class. I didn't care if it was the wrong book. It had plenty of porn, but all the wrong sort. It was the fact I found it funny, mystifying and well, at that time my world consisted of the beach, football, clubs, school and avoiding my step father.
"Naked Lunch" was about places I never imagined could be, about people I didn't seriously think existed. I thought it was great.
After reading it through twice in a day I loaned it to my friend Tom. He thought it was crazy but liked some of the funny bits. We began having conversations straight from the book, talking in that weird broken metier of drug addicts and William Burroughs. Our favorite joke became, "I am the Great Slashtubitch and I can tell you fake the orgasm by the way you wiggle your big toe!" I have no idea why we thought it was funny except in some sort of Bevis and Butthead way.
Pretty soon we'd infected the entire football team with the book. About 80 high school kids roaming the halls reciting chunks of "Naked Lunch" to each other was not something I figure the Board of Education would have approved of.

Click images for desktop size: "Anime" by Unknown There was an Assistant Principal at school. He was in charge of discipline. That meant he was the guy who gave you detention and called your parents if you were absent or parked your car in the wrong spot or if your muffler was too loud. He carried a hunk of celluloid in his pocket so he could measure your hair to make sure it didn't cover more than 1 and 1/2 inches of your collar . . . Catholic School.
Thing is, he dug the job, the power we guessed.
His name was close enough to one of the "Naked Lunch" characters, the Sollibees, that we all took to calling him Mr Sollibee (The sollibees were creatures who lived underneath tavern bars, they poked their heads out through holes in the bar to "service" customers while they drank. The name fit our attitude towards him perfectly. Soon the whole school was calling him Mr Sollibee. I don't think he ever twigged as to why we were all suddenly mispronouncing his name. None of the other teachers did either. At least we never caught any of them laughing.
Because that book was such a hit I checked out the other things I'd picked up that day. I was amazed. Kenneth Patchen, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Gregory Corso. Beat poets.
None of them helped me write any songs but they led me to believe that poets were the next Superman. I read how Corso used to read his poetry to a simple bongo accompaniment, which still sounds totally cool to me. And Kenneth Patchen explained the movies in his head and made them sound cooler than "The Great Escape" and "A Fistful of Dollars" combined.
I rally thought these were the guys who had powers "far beyond those of mortal men". I doubt if they helped me write better lyrics . . . (look for me babe but I ain't there; could hardly stand improvement . . . ) but I felt these guys understood parts of the world that I sensed were out there but had never seen. I thought that they had the map to something important. Something important to me and to the world and that it was a power they had, power louder than my Fender amp. I liked them, adored them and didn't want to be
Click images for desktop size: "Jeanne D'Arc" by Michael Parkes like them but I wanted to know what they knew even while I thought it was impossible.
Their effect on me was that I lead the conference in yards and touchdowns that season.
For the first time in my life I wanted to go someplace that wasn't in California.

Its been cold here. But we seem to be in the middle of a snow drought. There's enough snow on the ground to keep everything pretty and the constant snow means the dogs and I have got solid paths wending through the yard. Great paths that lead no where but are easy to follow.
The giant dog has suddenly decided he won't go outside without me. I have no idea why. His attitude hasn't changed and when we go out together he gets full on dog play crazy. Bears watching.
A couple of weeks ago the gentle dog went to work with my friend. He got so excited he leapt in the air and landed, slipping on the ice. Lately we've noticed that he starts to limp every time he first gets up from sleeping or just lying around. Its not a bad limp and it vanished pretty quickly. He has no tenderness in his legs and no change in his attitude. Walking him is still like walking a kite. So I worry. Today started to give each of them 500 mg of Glucosamine to lubricate their joints. Reports as events warrant.
Of course my puppy still loves me and I love her.

Posted by David at 10:28 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Five O'Clock in Orksland" by Mathias Kollros I've been so obsessed with the Great Car Trauma of 2009 and my friends difficult time at work (no problems, just excessive work) that I've lost sight of the other things I've been doing.
I made dog treats.
They finally decided that they love dehydrated sweet potato. My puppy loves dried apple. No surprise there, she love plain apple and will beg fiercely when I'm eating one. The gentle dog and the giant dog are more reserved about the dried apple. They only want it when my puppy is still happily eating hers. That figures. They are dogs as well as being my friends and family.
I like making things for the dogs. Not just out of love but because I am always worried about commercial dog food.
Today the Chinese government announced they had sentenced three
Click images for desktop size: "Dogs" by S4W people to death for the use of melamine in baby formula that led directly to an undisclosed mount of infant deaths.
I just hope that its the right three people. I'm opposed to the death penalty but I guess murdering a few hundred kids justifies it as much as Ted Bundy's death.
I just hope its the right three people and not just 3 schmoes who were following orders from some highly placed party official or some rich businessman. They may have learned that from capitalism, protect the rich who kill for negligent profit.
Because all the American food producers used melamine (a deadly plastic additive that increases the measured protein level of foods when mixed in) to save about 10 cents a bag on their over priced premium food and then suffered no legal penalties for cheating us and killing animals. They made them take the poison food back . . . if it were unopened.

Click images for desktop size: "American Flag" by Unknown Can't feel too badly about that, after all we also cleared Union Carbide for killing nearly 4,000 in India because it Union Carbide was too cheap to install required safety equipment. Poison gas clouds or saving 10,000 bucks. To the corporate guys theirs no value to human lives, but 10,000 bucks that like a good months wage.
Its an old story which is why I'm nervous about prepared foods. I used a small factory to make my puppy's food to spec. Here the pet shop makes their own special blend. I feel slightly more secure.
Making my/their own dog treats makes me feel safer. So, its a selfish thing, because, trust me, the dogs don't much care.
My thumbs have gotten worse. Last night I had to figure out how to open the door with my elbows. Perseverance pays. Took me about 5 minutes. I can't open most jars.
Odd thing is that this morning my right thumb feels much better and the left feels much worse than the right one ever did. This just goes to confirm my self diagnoses of more neuropathic damage. Livable no that I'm certain what it is.
The pain in my thumbs has one benefit. I don't like living on pain killers even if the only ones I'll take are ibuprofen. I usually wait to long to take them only succumbing when the pain gets unendurable. Oddly I can never time it to figure out when to take them to avoid those episodes.
The thumbs start to hurt about half an hour before the big pain comes. So if I take the pills when the thumbs start to ache (and its a very endurable pain) I avoid those blind flashes. It is almost worth it.
The only real problem is in guitar playing. I use my left thumb to mute strings when I play certain chords. This makes that kind of impossible. It just means that I have to execute my right hand with a lot more accuracy. Since I've always been a pretty sloppy player in that sense (Mess and finesse) its energy that exercises new muscles.
My left hand is getting stronger and more precise. I'm pleased by that. I was afraid that the muscles wouldn't respond to exercise and would just atrophy. Its coming along fine. My biggest problems seem to be some of the more extravagant minor chords (which I adore) and some of the crazed 7ths (which I can play around by leaving out a couple of string. Who'd notice?)
I've also been rearranging the living room. Not so much rearranging it as tacking down wires and trying to hide them as well as I can. Its hard hammering.

Click images for desktop size: "Joan of Ark (Orleans)" by Yasushi Nirasawa I do get to move all the furniture and unleash the roomba of dirt war upon it. The roomba still fascinates me. If I'm not careful I end up staring at it while it does its work, which sort of defeats the purpose of a vacuuming robot. I'm glad I'm not the only one who this happens to; a lot people comment on it.
So there's just a light dusty snow this morning. None since I shoveled out the driveway so no forced interaction with jerk neighbors. That's a good thing.
No luck on finding the ideal car. (Affordable) My friend just wants her old car back. Maybe that will be the way to go. She commented on the fact that the rental is causing her some pain in her arms.
The cat has not defecated in the house for a couple of days. This is another good thing.
My friend has decided that the cat is afraid of me. I could only wish. This morning it came and sat on my foot and yelled at me to let her out. Stupid cat.
Haven't seen any decent movies. The Oscar nominations are boring as hell. Even the foreign flics are dull. Danny Boyle getting nominated makes me want to weep. He stinks and "Slum Dog Millionaire" was dull silliness to me.
I always thought Aronofsky's movies were pretentious tripe. "The Wrestler" came off like a low budget less ambitoius "Raging Bull". Mickey Rourke was pretty outstanding. I thought Marisa Tomei was incredible and pretty nice to look at. . .
I did find a copy of a film I haven't seen since it first came out "Truffaut's" La Nuit Americaine". I'm semi-afraid to watch it. This movie, as much as Cocteau and Steve McQueen probably made me go for the grad degree in Cinema. I mean, I remember watching this movie about making a movie and thinking, "This is what I need to do!" instead of taking a career I could make a living at . . . I'm afraid the movie will rightly stink and I'll stare at it and wonder about my own level of sanity then and now. Like running into an old girlfriend on the street it exposes you
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Luis Royoto more risk of ridicule than pleasure. I'll probably still watch it.
Also it seems we're in one of those fallow periods where there seems to be no new music to interest me. Bruce Springsteen doesn't interest me at all. Which at least gives me the chance to justifylistening to my old stuff.
I like that fine.
ecto, the app I use to layout this site, has sort of stagnated since the developer guy sold it to the big software company. Its still buggy but does what it does well enough to justify hassling with it. I was having a huge problem with it. It was just like taking forever to load. Figured out it was the attachment.plst file. Because there's so many attachments that file had grown for about 8k to 14 megs. The app insisted on writing and reading that file each time it was loaded and each time I added a picture. I just dumped the file. No ill effects after three days and it runs nice and smoothly again.
A bug I don't expect to see fixed.
Most people who use Mac's know about Quicksilver. A nifty little app for launching apps, docs, editing, its kind of remarkable. And its free!
The guy who developed Quicksilver has dumped the project. He's made it open source but thus far no one seems to have taken it up.
He left Quicksilver for a paying gig with Google. I'm glad he's making money. He's developing a Quicksilver replacement for them called "Google Search Box". It works pretty well and its also free. Well, free only in the sense you don't have to pay for it.
The search box is dead ugly. Disappointing after the several elegant interfaces you could pick and chose with Quicksilver. Here you can only chose the color of the box. Not any color you want but select from 4. And you have to look at the stupid google logo.
One of its "benefits" is that it searches not only your hard drive but checks the internet as well, mostly launching the browser and the google search. It also launches the app associated with the document when you pull one of those up.
Its buggy, although the 2nd alpha fixes the most annoying things. Its got a long way to go. I'm trying to ignore Quicksilver and use it. Its hard as Quicksilver require no thought from me. Its an app that learns from you as you work so it is always snappy. Google Search Box isn't there yet at all, but maybe.
And that is all. Time to take my fit dogs for their fit walk.

Posted by David at 11:38 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Backyard Fashions" by Unknown I've decided that the pain in my thumbs is neuropathic.
The only logic I have for this is that the pain has metamorphosed into some of the past neuropathic pains I've had. It reminds me most of the left shoulder.
The left shoulder started in a similar way, annoying pain that slowly became excruciating and managed to hide its intent.
I remember that I was driving and raised my arm to wave to someone on the sidewalk. I nearly plowed into an over pass buttress because I was suddenly convulsed with black vision pain.
Click image: "9 Dragon Wall at Datong" by Unknown I really don't know how close I came to the buttress. I couldn't see it.
After wards I noticed that if I raised my arm at more than a 90 degree angle from my body the pain was intense and blinding. That was my first discovery of neuropathic pain. Its one of the side effects they don't really explain to some of the chemo-therapies. Weird thing is that the pain is based in the nerve damage but its so pervasive it effects the muscles as well.
I went on a self prescribed physical therapy. Later at a regular doctor's appointment they prescribed the same exercises I was already doing but added a couple of new ones so it didn't feel like a wasted time.
It took about a year for me to get completely rid of the pain, or at least bring it to a low enough level to ignore it.
I think the thumb is worse. For one thing its the first time I've not had the pain on my left side. But even though the pain is localized to a much smaller part of my body it was relatively easy to sort of remember not to suddenly raise my left arm over my shoulder. Its hard to remember not to use my right hand to open doors, answer phones and stuff.

Click images for desktop size: "Horror" by Poze Horor I'm going to try and figure out a series of exercises to bring the pain down.
Oddly, except for occasional stabs of pain, the guitar playing is going well . . . I keep working on new songs. Have even taken some tunes and put new words to them. I like that, even if the only "audience" reaction has been, "I've never heard that one before" and "That's not how it goes, is it?" At least they're listening.
Its been very cold here these past few days. It semi-worries me that I can ignore cold so well. The dogs and I went out for an hour or so yesterday. No ill effects at all.
The only worry about this is that I might ignore something that's doing me damage. I've done it in the past. Just another thing to be careful about.
In the intense cold I'm a little bit concerned that I haven't seen the skanky cat for three days. With the light snow it would have been easy to see its footprints. I hope its okay and hasn't frozen to death or something.
I really hope I never see skanky cat again but I don't want it dead or hurt someplace. I want it to be with someone who thinks its beautiful and not skanky at all, who feeds and strokes it and keeps it warm and save.
Maybe I'll see it run across the street or something and it will be all sleek and fat and will probably ignore me. Cats are like that.
My puppy's aunt has suggested that the stupid cat is defecating in the house because its ill.
I don't think so. It's stool is very healthy. I've certainly had to examine enough of it.
We have to keep the cats food and litter box behind a gate to keep the dogs from rooting around. Now all three dogs really hate the stupid cat. Which is odd because the other cat, who died, they never had a problem with at all, not even when it would come and stand on my shoulder to steal some popcorn. They'd even let the other cat sleep against them with no real
Click images for desktop size: "Sex And Fashion" by S4W reaction. Nor did they freak out when the other cat would butt in and start eating their food. But they hate the stupid cat.
I've watched enough to see that it provokes them quite a bit, sometimes harmlessly but sometimes pretty maliciously. Which is another justification for calling it the stupid cat.
The giant dog in particular takes offense to the stupid cat. When he sees it he'll follow it. He also likes to lie in front of the gate that protects its food and litter box. I'd suspect that the stupid cat doesn't see the need for using the litter box and just goes where its convenient for it. I've watched it swat the giant dog and leap over it to get to its food. I'd figure it doesn't see any sense to use that sort of effort to use the toilet.
The latest version of Handbrake, the app I use to back-up DVD's, has a new pre-set for AppleTV. Its based on CRF (Constant Quality) instead of being based on bit rate. It works extremely well, producing better looking files at up to 60% the size! The only drawback to it is that it takes about 30% longer to do so.
Like a two pass H264 encode at 2500 average bit rate with 5.1 sound and ACC stereo would come in at about 2.5 gigs and take about 3 and a half hours to encode.
With the new preset the same movie comes in at about 1.5 gig but took about 6 hours to encode. The smaller file looked BETTER than the larger file. Highly impressive.
I don't have a video iPod but I'd suspect similar results.
Oh, last night there was a huge crash boom bam. Startled me and got the dogs excited. Seems the neighbor backed his trailer into his house! My friend thought that was pretty funny. Since there was not any real damage, thinking about it, she's right; it was.
For the first time he didn't block us out of our house! Probably serendipity and not courtesy. Still, for whatever reason it made me feel better.
In LA there were always some weird guys who kept three revolving cars: The one they drove, the one they were working on and the one they were trying to sell . . . I have no idea why this guy has 5 vehicles for himself. If he were a regular guy I'd ask. It might be educational. Since they have a total value of about $1,400 bucks maybe its 401k hedge . . .
Which is unfair and nasty to think but the rest of today will be spent figuring out the best approach to bureaucrats who have more in common with stupid cats than they do with human beings and coping with my cold. I woke up with the cold at its worst stages. I've got Vitamin C and throat lozenges. So I'm entitled.

Posted by David at 11:19 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Conference At Night" by Edward Hopper Its cold today. Minus 14! In Centigrade that's a scary sounding -26!
Its not that bad.
I was in in minus 17 once. In Chicago. Back there for my grandmothers funeral years ago. Cold might be lucky for me.
We had a rental car. Some kind of Ford. I was zipping along some side street avoiding traffic on the Dan Ryan. I was wondering why nobody else was using the street. I was zipping along at a nice 50! When suddenly there was no more road. There were no signs or anything just suddenly no street, just air.
I don't know how far I flew but I landed in the middle of an empty construction site. The car kept running so
Click image: "DC Comics" I managed to find an exit. In the rear view mirror I saw that there was about a six foot drop. There should at least been a "DIP" sign, I thought.
Astonishingly the car had no damage, not even a shimmy. I turned the car back to the agency and said nothing. I decided American made cars were alright for some things.
But the bigger bit of unbelievable luck was that we decided to change our flight plans and stay a few more days.
The flight we originally had reservations on was the one the American Airlines plane that crashed at the end of the runway, killing all aboard. It was strange. I never was that close to a tragedy that large.
It hit in a different way. Prior to that the big tragedies were always distant. Like my friend Jake who went to a party and sat with his girlfriend on his lap, took out a gun and shot himself in the head. No one knew why. I wasn't there. It was only a story like on TV.
Or when my friend Terry and I were out at Manhattan Beach Pier. It was 12 foot and started to look makable. He jumped off the pier with his board (a way of avoiding the nasty swim through the breakers and foamy white water) and I never saw him again. I dived in after him but couldn't find a
Click images for desktop size: "Audrey Hepburn" by Unknown trace of him. Not even his board.
The breakers pushed me to shore and I ran and managed to flag down a lifeguard truck. They found Terry's body three days later. For three days I thought he'd show up at school and laugh at me for chasing after him. I figured he'd only pretended to jump in and had swung under the pier in some way and was enjoying my panic.
I'd rather be the butt of one of his pranks. I was 14.
Watching the news story spaced me in a way I couldn't grasp. Terry was a tragedy that scars. This was monumental. Two hundred people dead and we'd have been there if someone hadn't asked us to stay two more days to see a show. If American had charged a fee for changing flight plans we probably wouldn't have paid it. And we'd have taken that short flight.
The enormity of it made me think only of my own welfare. That's the way those big things go. We have to bring it down to just us our the mind explodes imaging the shattered bodies and the shattered lives of the families.
Which is why I sort of understand why George Bush's greatest disappointment isn't the thousands of young American lives lost in the war but his disappointment was in not landing his plane in New Orleans. How could you live thinking you'd had a hand in killing all those thousands of people. It nearly killed Abraham Lincoln before John Wilkes Booth did it for him.
So I can understand how Bush can block it out of his mind. Its what I would do.
How stupid are we as a country that we allowed a guy who is no better than me to boss us.
How hard is it to say, "My deepest regret of my time in office is the American men and women who died in defense of our country, who died protecting liberty around the world, who sacrificed all they
Click images for desktop size: "Banana At Rest" by Blurburger had so that we could live free."
It wouldn't have been hard unless he and all of his dozens of staff really didn't care in the slightest. Don't even care enough about our dead to have the decency to lie and pretend to care.
I think its fine that I don't have the depth to consider things like, "If only I'd turned right instead of left I could have avoided hitting that school bus." Cool for me, but not for any responsible person. Used to be the president was the most responsible guy on earth.
I still like the cold. The dogs are invigorated. We're going to take a walk today and see how long we can stand it.

Still the same issues with the neighbors. I was taking the garbage out and saw him. I said, in my most pleasantly neutral voice, "Hey. How you doing?" And he flat out blanked me.
Maybe he's deaf. Maybe he has aspergers syndrome ( a mild form of autism) or most likely he's a stone jerk.
Its a good thing we're not in LA. As most of you know a guy blanking you like that all these times usually means you have to blank him back and, oh yeah, carry a gun as he surely means you harm.
This isn't LA and I don't like the idea of prison is what I was thinking as I watched him use his snow blower to blow snow over the fence into our yard and driveway. When I watched him park his truck and block our driveway I decided that we'll buy a "DO NOT BLOCK DRIVEWAY" sign. That'll show him I mean business.
I still like their dog. I still miss our old neighbor and her dogs. Ditto for our dogs.
Forgetting the jerky new neighbors I hope the old neighbors are doing well.

The dogs are now eating the dehydrated sweet potatoes and apples and enjoying them. I'm pleased. But now I'll have to make more. Which is better than them eating cat feces. The stupid cat has decided that its litter box is not sufficient and has at 8 years of age decided to use various boxes and corners around the house . . .

A few enquiries asking about the "Lone Wolf and Cub" saga. The story that reads like a legend but started as a comic book. Maybe I'll detail more about it.

Posted by David at 11:11 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Song of the Angels" by BouguereauWe have a thermometer that reads in both Fahrenheit and Centigrade. I don't like the metric system much. My fault. Not the systems.
With metric I spend all my time calculating and converting distances in my head. Since its my head I often end up with some pretty odd results, like the back yard would be two miles long.
But I think I like centigrade although I think it woefully imprecise. I do like it to explain how cold it is. Minus fifteen is much closer to how cold it feels to me. Five degrees sounds like I'm complaining
Click image for desktop size: "Sparkle Girl" by Evegeny about nothing. But minus fifteen! Well, that makes it sound manly even to dare to venture outside!
Perception is always better than reality.

I am now the official master of dishwasher repair. We've done six loads and while the dishwasher doesn't work any better than it did before it stopped cleaning the dishes it certainly doesn't do them worse. More to the point there's no weird grinding or explosions or leaks.
I feel I deserve the right to call myself the master. This means that I can go to your house and if your having problems with your dishwasher you have to endure hours of pointless elliptical advice. And if you're foolish enough to attempt a repair in my presence that means I have the right to lean over your shoulder and spout instructions that have little to do with the situation and when its all finished I get to take credit for its success and get to say, "well, if you'd done it like I told you it
Click images for desktop size: "Supergirl" by DC Comics would have been fine!"
Just one of the infinite pleasures of being a guy.

The guitar playing is going well. No one seems to appreciate it but me. Its frustrating because I'm not playing with anything like my old style and speed. I did a good version of "Your So Young and Beautiful" for my friends birthday and I was happy with my articulate playing.
What's odd is that my left hand is hurting far less than I anticipated. Its stiff and strength is slow in coming. But its my right hand that's giving me fits. It feels like my right thumb is dislocated. Yesterday I even had a hard time grasping the door knob to get back in the house. Finally had to do it left handed.
It makes keeping the baseline going on some of the fingerpicking numbers excruciating. Double picking is impossible as are glissandos. But the odd thing is I can do a near perfect rondo.
Rondo's are those strums that most people know from flamenco music. Its the strum where you lead with your index finger and then follow with the other fingers. It makes a sweet full sound and gives a sort of malicious arpeggio when used in pop stuff. (Super cool on electric guitars.) What's odd is that my rondos are better now then when I was playing near full time. Some sort of body compensation for having no thumb?

I heard from a good friend in London yesterday. That always pleases me. What makes it worth mentioning is that out of nowhere he is suddenly writing to me in text speak! In Europe text messaging is much more prevalent than it is here. Doctor's confirm appointments via text messages! (Stupid that I know so much about doctor's office). Aside from the kids texting each other non-stop like it was a private twitter account business use them constantly.

Click image: "The City of a Thousand Minarets" by Waelsaad What made this notable was that my friend started his message with "glad to read u are". U? Instead of you? U?
This is the way civilization crumbles.

We got through the day okay. I must have missed my friend more than I admitted to myself. After the dogs finished trying to kill me on our long walk (ninety minutes, would have been longer but the three of them were too excited to behave. The gentle dog spent over an hour biting me and flying around at shoulder height. The giant dog kept bounding at me and trying to fly at my head height. While my puppy spent the entire walk in her military posture: the task is to get there and then go home!) my puppy stared at me for a while and then went to get a toy that she pressed hard against my leg.
We played some. Her entire play mode reminded me of something. I just got an email that reminded me of what.
There's nothing more tragic to me than the death of a child. One of my puppy's "patients" succumbed to leukemia after Christmas. He was 12 years old.
His mother sent me a pained but charming note thanking my puppy for the brief happiness she bought to her son. She remembered how desolate the kid felt in the hospital and she recalled in vivid detail how my puppy did her therapy dog rounds, how she poked her head into her son's room and doctored him with a lick on the nose.
The kid didn't come out and play with my puppy and the other kids very often but his mom recalls how my puppy would always make it a point to come in with whatever toy she was playing with, often a roll of toilet paper and press it into his hand, poking him until he played with her.
The kid followed her web site. He often got exasperated with her but he always wrote to her explaining his exasperation.
I'm proud of my little puppy. As proud of her that she was able to figure out something was wrong and felt like trying to do something about it.
It saddens me for a kid to die. It makes me wonder why I've been spared when a child was not.

Posted by David at 10:04 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Lost in the Fun" by Unknown Today is my friends birthday. I think she celebrated it a day early by staying in bed the whole day and reading a mystery suspense thriller book from a series she's interested in. Michael Connelly, I think.
She also made Tomato Rice Soup from scratch. Rah.
For her I think that is a perfect day.
Today their are chores. One of them ugly in a nice way. Emissions check on her car then down to the DMV to renew her license plates for 2009. We also have to pick up some odds and ends for the growing list of house repairs.
Yesterday the side fence blew over!

Click image: "Blue Fountain" by Maxfield Parrish The giant dog, of course for it is he that has the ultimate hold on gooniness in this world, escaped. We called the gentle dog and my puppy in. They came with no problem and calmly went about their business. We wondered where the giant dog was and then heard him crying.
He figured out how to escape and was upset that we hadn't come to rescue him as he had no clue how to return the same way he left.
So he was officially rescued and I had to do an emergency repair on the fence. I used to 4 inch logs as struts, logs from an old busted up "primitive" wood bench and the arms from an another outdoor chair for braces. It held well enough.
When I went to check it last night the struts had sunk about an inch into the ground. Their were 30 mph winds and their constant buffeting was more effective them my manly hammering at setting the things.
I need to add more braces today and set the already installed ones. I'm thinking about adding a metal connector between the two fence posts. (They abut as the damage was done at an
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Marek Okon unused and forgotten gate). I need to check the soundness of the wood as I fear the heavy winds, which I guess aren't uncommon here, will just rip out the screws and do more damage instead of securing it. There were a lot of limbs blown down and two roof tiles so the damage wasn't too bad. The giant dog was fine after his trauma. I'm still a little bit concerned as to why the other two didn't make a fuss to let us know that the giant dog was in trouble.
Then there's the start/completion of the dishwasher repair. My instincts say that the repair were doing is necessary but isn't the final solution.
We'll have to see.
I watched two interesting movies last night. One is a semi-guilty pleasure - The final installment of the Chambara, "Sleepy Eyes of Death". Sleepy Eyes is a ronin who was conceived during a black mass! His mother was a victim, not a willing participant and she was raped by a Dutch devil worshipper. After giving birth she kills herself, not via seppuku or hari kari but with the scary method of stabbing herself in the throat.
Sleepy Eyes, half caste and bitter is the most cynical ronin in movies. A deadly swordsman he hates everything and almost everyone. Almost because he doesn't really think of anyone but himself. He does not practice bushido he lives by his own moral code.
This final episode is very much worth seeing. Light gory entertainment with some decent samurai sword fights and surprisingly touching denouements.
The other film is a real oddity. A Vietnamese flic called "The Rebel". It stars Johnny Nyguen. He was the lead fighter bad guy in "Tom Yum Gum". In "The Rebel" he stars, wrote , produces and does the
Click images for desktop size: "Mac Tag Girl" by Lumac fight choreography. His brother directs and other family members are all over the place.
I've seen a few Vietnamese films and wasn't very impressed. This one has excellent cinematography, a decent score and good acting. The fights are impressive enough.
Vietnamese fighting techniques are very brutal. They were meant to win and not to impress. They function by whittling your opponent down to size by breaking a finger and then a wrist and then an arm etc. They toned down some of the brutality but still made a nice high flying balletic style of its more cinematic techniques.
The film was intended for international distribution. That seems certain. Viet Nam is a country whose entire history is of it repelling invaders.
The film is set in the late 1920's when France was the conquering force. It seems apparent that France is standing in for the United States. But putting the USA as the villain would cramp sales. Their are parallels between Mai Lai and Lt. Calley etc.
The vision from the view of the conquered is fascinating. The business as usual of the French is scary and sickening. Statements made by the French mine manager while he whips his slave labor about accepting his "white man's burden" are properly revolting.
The movie goes for an epic feel. WIth its nice period work and extensive battle scenes it succeeds. The final battle is very pleasing.
The only drawback is the lead's abrupt shifts in loyalty. Its easy to accept but causes some concern after the fact.
Still this movie gets a good recommendation from me for a different type of fighting and for its fascinating world view from the prospective of the Vietnamese.
I think Johnny Nyguen will make even better films in the future.
So its time to start my day and figure out how a broke guy can give a celiac with too many chores a happy birthday . . .

Posted by David at 8:56 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Colorfast" by Richard Mohler We got the stickers to label the doggie treat Christmas presents. They're bigger than I expected. If I'd known I'd have written what the treats are on them.
I have this fear that a) People will think I'm a loon (which they will anyway) and think I mean to harm their dogs or b) in these hard times that I'm giving out free samples of a product I want to sell.
I want them to just see that somebody else cares about their dogs and enjoys them as we walk around the neighborhood. I can't control people's perceptions.
I sealed up three bags using the vacuum sealer thing. It was cool
Click image: "Merry Christmas 2008" by S4W and easy. Kind of fun too. I liked watching all the air get sucked out and the bags crinkling hard to the shapes of the dried veggies. It was aesthetically pleasing to me.
The big snow is expected today.
I hope its really big. So far this morning there's just a light dusting on the ground.
Yesterday I shoveled the yard in preparation for the big storm. I discovered its easier to do that then to just wait and let it all pile up.
I keep the dogs out there with me while I do the shoveling. They seem to enjoy standing on the ground I just shoveled and then getting in my way as I continue. Its their game and they're laughing.
I saw the gentle dog suddenly bolt past me. I watched him, amused at his speed and intensity while
Click images for desktop size: "Snowshoeing" by Steven Stradhee I wondered what he was chasing. There's an abandoned bomb shelter in the back yard! Not an A-Bomb shelter, which would be very cool, but a plywood walled bunker sort of thing. Its collapsed but still has the shape of a room about 8 feet below the caved in roof. The roof has been used for years to toss fallen branches and other yard debris. It looks pretty natural, a part of the terrain.
As I watched the gentle dog scooted over the roof of the bomb shelter and disappeared. I went back to shoveling for a bit then realized the gentle dog hadn't reappeared and my puppy was agitated.
I went over to the shelter and was surprised that the gentle dog had followed whatever he was chasing down into the shelter and was now stuck!
It wasn't a big problem to drop down besides him. I lifted him up and pushed him out through the hole in the roof.
In my haste to rescue him I neglected to calculate my own escape.
I thought about it for a second and tried to do an old rock climbing style "mantle". Its where you grab the ledge above your head pull yourself up to where you can rest your forearm on the surface and then lever yourself up.
Pretty simple.
Except my hands would not grasp the wood. Since I've started to play the guitar again I notice that aside from the pain and the cramping finger style playing has left my right thumb feeling jammed and dislocated. My recent falling downs has also left my wrist weak.

Click image: "Russian Christmas Matrioshka" by Unknown I tried a couple more times, trying different techniques. All I managed to do was to break off some chunks of dusty ceiling.
There's still a door on the shelter so I tried that. Most people probably would have thought of trying the door first . . . but I have pride in wanting to exit the same way I entered. Pride is often confused with stupidity. Besides it was dark down there and I really hadn't thought of it.
The door was solidly jammed and throwing my weight against it only made the shelter vibrate in an uncomfortable way and I had a flash of me being buried alive under plywood and yard debris.
More worrisome was that my puppy and the giant dog decided that all my banging around was a sure sign that I was having a world of fun and they were threatening to come down and join me. They kept poking their noses through the hole. Giant dog was play growling at me trying to make me let him join in the fun.
I yelled at them to sit. I was surprised that they both did.
I remembered I had my cell phone in my pocket, which is more common sensical than usual for me. I've often watched old movies where all the tension from a scene or a chase could have been solved if the hero just had a cell phone in his pocket.

"Christmas Cheer" by Unknown I thought for a bit about calling 911 but I figured they'd probably have to break down the gate to get into the yard and, that just didn't seem worth it.
I was also wondering what the gentle dog was chasing. I hadn't heard anything rustling down there. I sometimes smell a heavy musk in the backyard. Rather skunky but not quite the skunk smell I know. I'd decided it must be wolverines! It didn't matter that I'd been told that there weren't any wolverines around here, that they're several hundred miles further north, I enjoyed thinking that there's a semi-dangerous animal lurking in my backyard.
At this time I also figured that all my banging around would have seriously hacked off any skulking wolverines who would have gone by my jugular by now. I figured it was most likely that the gentle
Click images for desktop size: "Dragon Lady" by Unknown dog was chasing the "stupid cat".
I also found it interesting that it seemed several degrees cooler in the bomb shelter. For some reason my lack of subterranean knowledge made me think it would be warmer, which is stupid and against all my experience but I still fondly cherish the notion that just 10 feet below the surface the earth is filled with pools of magma that house great fire resistant dinosaurs.
I finally figured out that I could hang from the roof and do a sort of chimney move against one slick wall and sort of scramble out that way. It took about 10 minutes for me to get to a position where I could grab something and try and pull myself out.
The first time I grabbed a branch which wasn't attached to anything and fell back into the shelter. The next time i just madly flailed at the dirt until I was able to roll myself onto solider ground. Of course the dogs all had to rush over and smell me.
I checked the gentle dog over and decided he had no bumps, contusions or abrasions. He was a bit nervous about the hole but still eager to bite me.
I finished my shoveling, went in and made us a frozen pizza I'd gotten on sale. The dogs and me love our frozen pizza, except they always want more than their share. I think they think the same thing about me.
We watched the Colts Jaguars game on TV. It was better than I anticipated. It was sadly moving seeing Richard Collier come onto the field in his wheel chair.
My friend was working late, in preparation for the two weeks off and anticipating that the big snow
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Luis Royo would stop her from going into work today. So I went to bed alone.
Not quite alone. Usually my puppy lies on the bed until my presence annoys her. Tonight the gentle dog nudged her aside and lie next to me. Nose to nose. I love dogs but I don't like doggie kisses or them licking me at all. I also don't like doggie breath. He moved further down, turned around and pressed hard against me and stayed there until my friend got home. Then he went to greet here by stepping on my face. So everything is back to normal.

A few people have written to me complaining that the song version the downloaded wasn't the one that I claimed it would be! I realize that when I ftp'd a song with the same name to the server I was overwriting the old version! I'll get that fixed.
Here's Jan and Dean doing a little "Merry Christmas promo". I like these little messages inserted into my playlists.
Shonen Knife aren't the only Japanese girl band to celebrate the holidays, this is The 5 6 7 8's doing "Rock N' Roll Santa". Cute stuff with a nice cutting edge.
Soupy Sales has a son named Tony. Tony started out with a band called Tony and the Tigers. Soupy used all of his influence to promote his son's band. Eventually Tony would marry Tyrone Powers' daughter, Taryn, and then form Tin Machine and be David Bowie's band for a lot of years. That's how it goes in Hollywood. None of which has anything to do with this CHristmas track by Soupy himself. "Santa Claus Is Surfin' To Town" has been blamed for everything from causing the cold war to increasing the percentage of American youth experimenting with drugs. The drug part is serious! It's just a gooney Christmas record that I like fine.
It is certainly no crazier than Ray Steven's scary "Santa Claus Is Watching You" especially in this post 9/11 anti-American tyranny.
And we'll end with two tracks designed to ruin forever your memory of Clement Moore's poem. Huey "Piano" Smith and the Clowns crazed version of "Twas The Night Before Christmas" rolls along in madness that seems absolute until . . .
Now we all know who Henry Rollins is. The founder of Black Flag, the the paramour of Lydia Lunch. Those shows . . .I mean, they were nothing except Lydia screeching on stage while Rollins would jump into the crowd and punch out hecklers!
Click images for desktop size: "Iceman" by Marvel Comics And a few hundred people would PAY to experience this! While Van Halen and Metallica where down the street PAYING the club owners to get to play Lunch and Rollins were making money doing this poetry reading thing. YOW!
Rollins was cool. I could even accept him taking parts in movies. It wasn't until he hosted that awful TV game show that I realized the beautiful angry young man was dead and all that was left was a guy who wanted to make a living. Once again I bring up the Eskimo tradition of sending their greatest heroes out on ice floes to die lest they live on and destroy the legend. Henry Rollins doing a Christmas tune is insane, that his radical hep cat be bop reading of "'Twas The Night Before Christmas" even exists is a Christmas miracle that is a quiet blessing. Scare the kids with this one while you just groove daddio.
Finally a band called The Priestess and the Fool have released a new Christmas album and left it up for FREE DOWNLOADING. Rah! Merry Christmas. The music is okay. They do an interesting cover of the Pogues "Fairytale of New York". Click the bands name to get it. Classy package 192 kb mp3's, cover art and pdf booklet. I approve.

Posted by David at 9:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Violet Diva" by Unknown The carrot dehydrating scheme seemed to go okay. The dried carrots are not as popular with the dogs as the dried sweet potatoes.
That's okay. They provide a lot of color. They dry a nice fiery orange. They'll look cute in the little vacuum sealed pouches.
This has suddenly become important. My new Christmas tradition of passing out treats to the neighborhood dogs has grown from 3 to 10. And probably counting.
I have to have two of them ready for tomorrow. That might be three ready by tomorrow.
I also have to design a tag, a sticker to put on the treats so that when I fling these on the neighbor's porch they won't think I'm defiling their homes with wrinkled up garbage . . .

Click image: "Christmas" by Cole Phillips I'm going to try to dehydrate regular Idaho potatoes today. The dogs love french fries so this might work. The sweet potatoes are pricey. I was surprised that the 6 we used cost 12 bucks! Rah!
That's made me scale back on my dreams of fat goodie bags for all the pooches.
I'm glad for the project though. Christmas always seems better with insane projects and looming deadlines. Its part of the fun. Isn't it?
Yesterday was frustrating in small ways. There was some stuff I wanted to do but I had to wait for the Christmas delivery all day. Someone told me that the delivery was scheduled for between 7 AM and 1:00 PM. I called at 1:00 and was told it was between 12:00 and 5:00. Then the delivery guys called about 4:00 and said their truck got caught in the snow. They showed up about 6:00.
It went well enough. I'm happy with the delivery, so far. I was surprised that the two delivery guys were Jamaican. The shock being that they'd leave Kingston for this frigid, snowy winter landscape. They talked to me about Christmas in Jamaica but never
Click images for desktop size: "Winter Shades" by Mizz Fonky explained what dragged them all the way north.
While waiting for them I ended up talking to the guy who owns the little apartment building next door. It was a harmless small talk. I was surprised because the guy is only a few years older than me but looks much older. I'm used to that, but he talked to me as if he were even older than that, as if he were over 90 and waiting for death to creep in and grab him at any moment.
Maybe he was just having a bad day. He told me had three kids and got them all the same Christmas present, to avoid squabbling. He got them each a turkey deep fryer.
I'd always thought of deep fried turkey as a Southern dish. He said he'd had it once and thought it was delicious. He wanted to share that delicious memory with his kids. Then he got worried about whether that was enough of a present.
I told him I thought it was. Even if they didn't react on the day sometime later they'd give it a try and be stoked and remember him and what he was trying to do.

Click image: "Xmas" by WallColl We ended up with him giving me so snow shoveling tips and advice on how to get the two snow blowers, that I avoid, up and running.
Ended the day by watching a Japanese film, "Rockers". It was pretty enjoyable. I got a copy that some guys I know put English subtitles on. Its a comedy about a a band from Hakata looking to make it big and go pro in Tokyo. There were a lot of jokes about communication in Japan. The kids from Hakata having a hard time being understood by the rest of Japan because of the accents and dialects. Something I never expected.
The music is all Japanese post punk. I liked it.
There's about 9 bands showcased in the flic. One of them had a very cool female brass section! The movie itself forces every conceivable rags to riches musician story into its 90 minutes. All amusing and, at times, oddly exciting.
Warmly recommended for Christmas viewing.

Rushing to get caught up, so todays Christmas music is sort of a hodgepodge. All very cool but hastily thrown together.

Click images for desktop size: "Merry Christmas 2008" by S4W I don't imagine anyone expected Joe Pesci, yes, that Joe Pesci from "Raging Bull". The guy who asked, "So you think I'm funny? You think I'm here to amuse you?" in "Goodfellows" would record a Christmas song. If you did you're sicker than I am and we should meet for coffee. I cant speak to the quality of the song the mere fact that Joe Pesci recorded "If It Doesn't Snow On Christmas" is enough for me and should be for you too.
Up there in the I don't believe it is The Mighty Mighty BossTones did "This Time Of Year". A Christmas tune from the kings of punk ska? YOW!
One day maybe I'll understand the fascination that the Scandinavians have with the Beatles and with Christmas, to the point that they have to combine the two. Not only is there the Fab Four but there is also this Danish band Rubber Band here doing "Mary's Boy Child" in a poppy Beatles style. Even the album cover is a take off on the Beatle's "Help" here featuring the four in Father Christmas costumes.
Les Paul was so cool they had to make a special guitar for him. Check out the cool country jazz stylings in his chilled out "White Christmas" he really makes the point that everyone else is over reaching.
And we'll wrap it up with The Pete Currey Orchestra doing "Drums for Christmas". One thing I hope we agree on is that you can never have too many drum breaks no matter what time of year!

Posted by David at 11:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Football Pin Up" by Al Moore The giant dog is feeling better. Much better.
In fact I don't think he recalls a second of how ill he was. This was reinforced after he woke me at 4:30 to go outside. His urgency wasn't related to anything internal. The rain had started and the sound of rain on the ice made him think the house was being stalked by thousands of dangerous kittens.
It was raining so hard the cat that lives here decided to come inside with the dogs.
So he's fine. I will probably collapse sometime today from lack of sleep. Can't afford to do that. Too much to do today.
Spent yesterday watching some pretty poor excuses for football
Click image: "Christmas Tree" by Unknown games, seeing Pete Carroll on "Sixty Minutes" (I was impressed with him. Very impressed.) And falling downstairs.
I'd been searching for two movies - the Japanese "Dog Star" DVD, which is very cool movie about a dog who dies. Because he led such a great dog life he's allowed a request. He returns to earth as a human being shape so he can be close again to his female mistress, so he can tell her how much he loved being her dog.
The other movie was "Bobby of Greyfriar", a Disney flic. I don't much care for Disney movies. Not sure why. Perhaps its the consistent stable of directors and cinematographers. For whatever reason I find Disney flics as appealing as McDonalds.
Finally sorted through the stacks and found them. Actually I didn't, my friend did. What I managed to find were some live Stevie Ray Vaughn DVD's which I'd semi-forgotten about.
After sorting through the disks I decided to move them downstairs, to make room under my desk. Since I'm converting everything to H264 they've become more of a back up than a watching media.
I was carrying about 200 of them down the stairs when I slipped on the steps. I was falling and
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Brocal Remohi trying to catch the movies as I slid down the stairs.
I wasn't hurt much. The disks didn't do well. About 4 of them just split or cracked. Lucky for me these were all movies I had good back up of already. I'm nervous about the others. The basement is not a clean room and concrete skidding plastic is pretty short lived.
There was nothing "vital" in the disks, no last copy extant of the missing footage from "It's A Wonderful Life" where George Bailey throttles Uncle Billy and then sends Zazu out to sell matches on the street corner. But stuff I enjoyed having.
Maybe its all fine. I remember when CD's first game out. One of the approved selling methods was to throw a disk on the floor and then watch the salesman tread on it, pick it up and have it play perfectly. Why did I believe that?
The only other noteworthy event was that the couple that adopted one of my puppy's foster dogs, and whom I'm fond of, STILL HAVE NOT HAD THEIR BABY!
One of my puppy's litter mates is scheduled to have her first litter at almost the exact same time. This is more strain on me than is fair!
My friend wants to start new Christmas traditions. Private traditions . . . Barring a last minute invite from her parents we're going to go to the Chinese buffet for Christmas dinner. I like that for far too many reasons.
The unambiguous ones are that they'll have turkey! With Chinese stuffing? And dog bacon! And neither my friend or I have ever gotten sick there! Has me stoked. I'm working on a better way to line the plastic in my inner jacket pockets to load up on serious dog treats.
The other tradition we should start is to get a dehydrator. While shopping she saw a bag of sweet potato dog treats for $16.00! The plan is to dehydrate a mess of sweet potatoes and then to leave them Christmas eve at the door steps of all of our neighborhood dog friends!
I like that tradition a lot!
The final new tradition is that she should change her birthdate to whenever I arbitrarily decide it should be. I never remember things like that especially when your birthday is after Christmas and
Click images for desktop size: "Christmas is Not for Sale" by Unknown before the New Years. This year I've decided her birthday is on Boxing Day. Since she won't, or can't, contradict me. It stays and is official.

Doo wop is maybe the purest urban music. Four or five guys hanging around a street corner singing some of the hits off of the radio, learning how to apply church modal harmonies with gospel emotion to a pop ethos.
Doo wop was the streets. There were black bands, white bands and Hispanic doo wop groups, just people raising their voices in song from New York to LA they thrived and made some sounds that are now pure standards. In the pre civil rights days its remarkable that there were several integrated doo wop groups. The odd part is that they recorded and toured with no big fan fare or any particular notice being taken.
One of the most successful doo wop groups were the Temptations. They got so big that they stopped being thought of a a doo wop vocal band and were seen as the vanguard of the MoTown sound. They recorded what is possibly the definitive doo wop Christmas record with their stellar version of "Silent Night". The only complaint is that it might be too slick and over produced and lack the spontaneous bite that makes vocal music great.
The song builds from the doo wop sound pioneered by that ultra slick and smiling cool of the Platters. The Platters were definitely alright even if they were more geared towards night clubs than flat bed truck stages. Their version of "Silent Night, Holy Night" is worth a listen and carries its own chilly warmth to it.
The Orioles "(It's Gonna Be A) Lonely Christmas" is closer to the roots and has a rough primitive feel that suits the holidays well. While The Cadillacs "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" is nicely ebullient and totally secular reminder of Christmas being fun.
southern group with the awesome moniker The Harmony Grits do a cool version of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" that threatens to, but never quite explodes in your face.
The Four Seasons were a 60's hit machine, with pretty good reason. They did a pretty forgettable Christmas album that had a few decent moments, on of them was their pure urban version of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town".
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Vaughn Bode While the Harmony grits version reeks of the delta and road side diners the Four Season's version smell of Philadelphia and Gimbels Christmas Parades. Good stuff.
One of the great innovators in doo wop was Dion of The Belmonts. Dion DiMucci reinvented himself nearly as often as Madonna. But he followed a musical line not simply fashion. Presently the "King of the New York Streets" is playing acoustic country blues! Its listenable stuff. When Dion was with the Belmonts they never really did any Christmas stuff. I don't think you can talk doo wop without talking about Dion, so here's one his his later tracks, doing that cool Phil Spectre song "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)". Its more rock than doo wop but it still sounds nice Christmas week.
Doo wop still hasn't died. It continues in a lot of styles and samples. One of the strangest are the large 80's looking acapella groups. Rockapella got famous by doing the title song for some PBS kids show, "Where In the World is Carmen San Diego" . . . they also did a pretty lamentable Christmas album. The track, "Silver Bells" is inoffensive and lilts as nicely as any song ever taken from a Bob Hope movie . . .

Posted by David at 11:02 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Virtual Goth Girl" by Unknown Its snowing now.
The better to camouflage the ice.
Yesterday I only had the giant dog and my puppy to look after. My friend took the gentle dog to work with her. Personally I think that being able to take your dog to work is the best perk going and is an opportunity that should be exploited until someone says stop! And then only stopped if the person has sufficient authority to make life difficult.
The giant dog and my puppy both enjoyed the extra attention. We went for an aimless walk. I didn't fall down at all. I had several crazed arm waving, windmilling moments, much to the dogs amusement, but never really fell, much to the dogs disappointment.
I love my dogs. I had a realization that I'm not very concerned about
Click image: "Cold Christmas Winter" by Unknownwhat people think of me but I am worried about what people think of my dogs. I want them to be loved. I think everyone should see the beauty in them that I see.
As you know I'm not very lacking in self confidence or self esteem so I find it odd that I choose to fret over strangers liking the things I love. The only similar feeling is when I was a teenager and it seemed very important that everyone hear and love the new record I'd found. Not my music but a great song I thought was going to save the world.
Another day with not much accomplished. It was fine for all of that. I didn't fall asleep and the biggest trauma was running out of ibuprofen.
I watched the Saints - Bears game. I was disappointed in the result. It really looked like neither team deserves to be in the playoffs. The Saints defense played as stoutly as they are capable but
Click images for desktop size: "Whale" by Vlad Design Studios for a non-stud receiver like Hester to make the secondary look that poor is inexcusable. Even though the Saints are depleted its up to the coach to come up with a scheme to handle that sort of situation.
The Bears defense looked sporadic, occasionally brilliant but usually just bland. Brian Uralcher, Bear's middle linebacker, is one of my favorite players. He's highly entertaining to watch and does some nice unheralded things for kids from his old neighborhood. He was just dull last night. He made a couple of good plays but nothing spectacular. Michael Jordan knew you had to be spectacular every night.
My friend was upset because the Bears designed their field specifically to thwart Reggie Bush. Hard to explain that's one of the rules that defines Home Field Advantage.
And I still hate games decided by two last second field goals.
I watched the latest Benny Chan movie, "Connected". Benny Chan is Jackie Chan's son. He's done some promising things but has never really propelled me over the top. "Connected" is just okay. I was surprised to discover its a remake of a turgid American thriller, "Cellular"!
I can understand seeing a bad movie and coming away inspired with the ideas of what you could do with it. A lot of great art has been made that way. But "Cellular" wasn't bad it was just dull.
Adding lots of cool stunts and destruction aren't what's needed to improve the thing.
The Chinese actors are more inspiring than their American counterparts, especially Louis Koo who took a ridiculous part and made it nearly believable. The cinematography was very good. Nice bright primary colors tousled with soft pastels. When you're noticing the cinematography you know the film isn't too gripping.

Back in the 60's surf music discovered Christmas tunes. The coolest part about these records was the album art. Cute girls in Santa Bikinis!
It started with the Ventures. The Ventures have always bugged me. They were proficient musicians but they were never innovators but they were and remain the pre-eminent surf guitar band. I have no idea why. They played Mosrite guitars. Mosrites made some of the most impeccable necks and
Click images for desktop size: "Sharon Stone" frets going but their guitar sound was an odd pastiche of Fender twang and Gibson sustain.
Anyway, I guess the big innovation they came up with was to take popular tunes, play a few bars and then segue into an okay version of Christmas tune. Like here, in "Christmas Joy". They make nice muzak which is cool at Christmas.
They made a tradition that continues with stuff like "Jingle Bell Rock" by Surfin' Santa with the Meshugga Beach Party and "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" done by Los Straitjackets.
These two versions at least offer some savage playing.
Its no surprise that The Trashmen offer up the best of this weird sub=genre with "Greensleeves" which is as smoking as you can get with "What Child Is This".
A group that's never really done it for me, although they try really hard, is The Untamed. A newish retro punk thrash garage punk outfit. They get into a Jan & Dean thing and try to take the surf into the right place with "Santa's Gonna Shut 'Em Down". It is decidedly okay!
More effective, to me anyway, or at least funnier is the Taildraggers reworking of the classic "Grodes" tune, "Lets Talk About Girls" and transforming it into "Lets Talk About Claus". The joke might be too obscure but that's the way I like them.
Tomorrow we start to decorate the house for Christmas. It excites my puppy. It excites me. Just bringing out our little disco tree gives us a Christmas rush. Unfortunately decorating implies cleaning the house.
I guess I've just outlined the rest of the day . . .
No college football tomorrow. How sad for me.

Posted by David at 11:22 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Tangents" by M Prado Can't sleep.
Again.
Some pain and discomfort but mainly just the blackness of the world oozing out of the sewers.
Everybody's got a right to be happy. Don't they?
It really bugs me that there is so much bad going on, companies closing their doors and stiffing their long time employees out of pay checks while we allow the guys with the padlocks to pay themselves then help them go back into business under another name.

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Luis RoyoI think it was always this way. I don't think there's a time in modern history where the working man controlled his own fate and destiny. Where you could work hard and be fairly rewarded.
I had friends who parents seemed rich. They had money because they lived in the same house for 30 years, kept the same job and lived on about the same money in 1988 that they lived on in 1958. They saved the rest to send their kids to school and to have enough to take some vacations when it was time to retire.

Click images for desktop size: "The Forest" by Unknown Then Reagan destroyed the unions and Bush destroyed the economy and the environment and here we stand, scared confused and bewildered.
I had a good day yesterday. My friend stayed in to work from home and to take me on a couple of errands. I like having her around.
It made the day pleasant even though the weather was atrocious. After 18 degree days 40 seems balmy. There was about 4 inches of snow during the night then there was a steady rain all day. The ground is mud and slush. It is all going to freeze today. Its going to be low 30's and then hit 16 tonight.
There was some good/bad news at her work place. Her assistant had been MIA on Monday. Worried and concerned there. My friend's assistant finally got in touch with her yesterday. She developed a severe kidney infection. She sent her assistant home from the office.
Talking about that we got into a small discussion about how she has fears about her boss leaving. She believes that things have never gone well for her when a new boss has come in.
I can think of two fairly recent instances where I can see the root of her fears. I don't buy it as a legitimate fear but you can't ever tell people what they feel or make them feel any differently. I don't like her being afraid of anything.
I guess the good news is her assistant wasn't more seriously hurt . . .
The giant dog and I watched a movie last night. The giant dog is a fan of "Law and Order" repeats. I watched a few episodes of the show originally because it had Michael Moriarity and Paul Sorvino in it, then they got in the great Jerry Orbach.
I don't live a life conducive to watching shows regularly but with all the steady stream of repeats it seems near impossible not to watch "Law and Order" almost anytime.
The giant dog recognizes the theme music to the show and when he hears it he gets into the love seat and waits. He'll stare at the TV for a while until his attention drifts but he gets riveted and excited as soon as he hears San Wannamaker's (Jack McCoy's) voice. He stays glued until he stops talking but waits a bit before drifting away.
Last night I watched the Sam Fuller movie "White Dog".

Click images for desktop size: "Christmas Handicrafts" by Unknown Sam Fuller is very high up in my pantheontology. The man makes manic movies that rule. My favorite quote from him was, "Blood is not the color of ketchup."
Fuller had a crime reporter's eye for nuance and detail and an unflinching eye. He worked in melodramatic frame works to lull the viewer into simple acceptance then upended the world with garish flashes of reality.
Fuller's world was full of tough people, people with goals and obsessions. His movies like "Forty Guns" and "The Naked Kiss" gave us women who were soft and feminine but every bit as tough as a man.
His characters all had a central ambiguity as they struggle to achieve their goals while trying to be the person they see in the mirror. Most of the time this is impossible.
When "White Dog" was first in production there was a strong buzz about the movie. It was based on an article written by Romain Gary, a Hollywood writer married to waif actress Jean Seberg ("Breathless" is her legend making role.) After the story was published he took a lot of flac and heat. Racists in particular claimed he made the whole thing up.
It was a supposedly true story about his wife's finding a "white dog". A dog that was trained from birth to kill blacks.
The first time I'd heard of this was in Louis Lamour's "Hondo" where Hondo explains to a boy that his constant companion dog has been trained to smell and hate Indians. Hondo trained him by paying Indians with bottles of whisky to come in and beat the pup with a stick every day from the time it was a puppy. Lamour some how portrayed this as a cagey good thing to do . . .
In Gary's story white racists would by black wino's or junkies to do the same thing to raise a dog
Click images for desktop size: "Don't Fret" by Lawn Elf that fears and then sees its fear turn to hatred. A dog only sees in black and white so its mental unbalancing is an easy thing to do.
Fuller was always very pro-civil rights and a dog lover. This seemed like a fascinating potentially great film.
Then the studio's refused to release it. After Ralph Bakshi's disastrous "Coon Skin" they feared a major racist back lash.
I can't see it in the movie, but I'm not black. I know a lot of people don't understand why I sometimes flinch at the Frito Bandito or cringe at some of Speedy Gonzaleze's relatives. When your ethnic group only has Alphonso Bedoya, Ricky Ricardo and Freddie Prinze as media role models I can see being touchy.
Thanks to the efforts of a few people in LA the famous and dead Z channel showed the film one time. A lot of people came over to the house and we watched it and we were all pretty disappointed for different reasons.
Last night was the first time I'd seen the movie since 1982. Its been given the Criterion treatment. They're doing a good job of getting Fuller's movies out there.
The DVD looks good. The movie isn't as disappointing as I remembered. There were signs of what could have thrown me into a tail spin.
First the cast Kristy McNicol in the Jean Seberg role. Kristy McNicol was a little actress who got hot for a while because she was on some dufus TV show I watched once and hated. McNicol is no Jean Seberg, who was a fascinating character in her own right. McNicol's performance is bland and stick figure like. There are jarring moments, like when she comes on all 80's disco and Fiorucci and more than a few times she is sitting in scenes looking like a bland hunk of white bread trying to decide if its time to slowly turn moldy, but the performance is bland enough to not distract even though it adds nothing to the story.
Burl Ives does a yeoman's job as the animal training center owner. The surprise was Paul Winfield. He gives a bravura performance as the black genius who is committed in a Dr Frankenstein way to "curing" the "white dog".
Its turns out to be a decent but not great movie.
Five dogs played the central character who is a loving but mentally unbalanced animal. Fuller insisted that the Humane Society be present on the film. The dog actors were the best I've seen in an American film. There was no tail wagging as they killed, they moved with lithe power and it was a grim reminder that the sweet creatures who love us have jaws capable of breaking bones, that they can attack with a cruel punishing power.
I was glad to know about the Humane supervision. I know Fuller to be a dog lover but I always remember that Luis Bunel filmed the beautiful curtsey of a mule by having someone off camera shoot the mule in the head with a rifle! I have problems with art achieved for whatever purpose by using inhuman means.
Giant dog disagrees with me. He thought it was the greatest movie he's ever seen. He sat with me
Click images for desktop size: "Pet Lovers" by S4W on the love seat and was riveted from beginning to end. He watched intently through out. His expression changed he stood up, he whined and snarled at scenes.
He clearly was not "seeing" the same movie I was. I think his version was better.
He got positively joyous when the "White Dog" escaped from his kennel and ran around the animal compound. Giant dog was ecstatic as the dog ran past elephants and chimpanzees and figured out how to leap over an electric fence.
He whimpered when the dog crashed against the bars of his kennel in an attempt to kill Paul Winfield. And smiled at me when the dog finally calmed down enough to take the cheeseburger from Winfield's outstretched hand.
And he was especially rapt when the "White Dog" chased down Richard Roundtree, chased him through the doors of a church and savaged the man. That made me a little nervous when after the scene Giant Dog looked at me and smiled, panting slightly. (Maybe I should be nicer to him.)
There was one excellent scene: the "White Dog" has escaped and is prowling the garbage cans for something to eat when a black child comes outside to play. The dog starts to pad towards it and there's real suspense that he'll see the child. The suspense is doubled when the child's mother comes out into the street and scolds the child to come back indoors.
Giant dog raised up during this scene. He was reacting. I think he was watching a different movie than me for sure. I was watching a movie about a good animal transformed and warped by the illogical hatred of men into something that seemed cruel and hurt. He was watching a movie about a dog running around and scaring other animals and getting cheeseburgers for beating up people!
I really have to make a point of being nicer to him. Last night he refused to get off the bed so I could lie down!
I think this is a sign that I have to decide just how good of a friends are we?
(That was a joke. We're very good friends and he'd never hurt anyone . . . unless a cheeseburger was in the offing . . . wait, no that's my puppy who'd sell me out for a cheeseburger!!)
I have no idea what, if anything, I'll get accomplished today. That's what bothers me the most about these white nights. What they mean to the day.
I promised some Christmas music. One thing to understand is that when you're in a working band the prime gigs are always New Year's Eve and Christmas week.
A bar or a club Christmas week is a different place. If you're lucky it will be filled with people who just got into town to see their families and are looking to hook up with friends they haven't seen since summer. They're filled with good humor and good will. Then there are the quiet and desperate for whom the holidays only serve to remind them of lonliness and loss. Then there's the hustlers, they are always out and we all know what they're after.
In the band you have to entertain them all and you better have a couple of Christmas songs on the play list or it will become a lost gig.
You need a song that will enchance the good will of the happy, cleanse the mood of the depressed and it better have a rocking beat so the hustlers can dance with their prey.
These are three semi-klazziks.
The Trashmen have always defined teen genius to me. Teen genius is that ability to catch a mood without having a clue as to where it come from. To me its no surprise that they came up with the perfect bar Christmas tune, "Dancin' With Santa" is everything you want in a Christmas song. Its easy t imagine five guys stomping this one out on a poorly lit stage.
Three Aces and A Joker have one of the coolest names in rock and roll history. They're remembered only becasue of one song, a cover, but maybe the greatest cover ever. No one knows much about these guys. Who needs to know. Its all right there in this tough rockabilly punk number "Sleigh Bell Rock". If you don't dig this then I really feel sorry for you. You've probably joined the ranks of the walking dead. This little tune will feed your craving for brains.
Buck Owens wasn't always a bit of a fool on bad TV shows. He was the original Bakersfield Cowboy.
Click images for desktop size: "Smashing Skating" by Smashing Magazine He earned the right to wear too many rhinestones by playing clubs that really needed chicken wire strung across the stage. Where a bad set would lead to a bunch of oil workers and construction workers laying for the band in the parking lot. A Friday night is a vauable thing to a working man, to valuable for a cruddy band to mess up. I don't think anybody ever punched out Buck Owens. His Country Western Christmas tune is driving, amusing and oh so cool, from Barstow to Austin "Santa Looked A Lot Like Daddy" is the tune to lift you up and make you smile while you wrap your kids presents.
Now this Chris Bailey cover of a Buddy Holly song isn't about Christmas, its still the perfect arrangement for a Christmas gig. Its a slow dnce number so people can get close and its so touching and bittersweet it almost makes you want to get dumped so you have a right to feel this oh so touching pain. When Buddy Holly wrote the song it was a bouncy catchy tune. When Chris Bailey sings "It Doesn't Matter Anymore" it becomes a weapon of pain. Near perfect for the revelers to remember the past year, for the lonely to justify their grief ad for the hustlers to exploit.
And isn't that at least part of what Christmas is all about?

Posted by David at 5:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Unknown I think I over did things yesterday.
Happens. Felt good, felt better getting a lot of things done. Nice not to be cowering under a blanket and hurting.
I did laundry and discovered that the cat (the one who decided to use her teeth like a stapler and my arm as a ream of newsletters) had used three corners of the basement as a washroom. The smell was repugnant.
I cleaned that up. When I went down to put clothes in the dryer the smell had abated so I'm hopeful I got it all cleaned up.
I roombaed a few rooms (love the roomba!) and mopped. While the roomba did its thing I took the dogs for a walk. I managed to stay upright the entire time, much to their evil chagrin. I've discovered another quality of snow on our walk.
I'd always assumed that slush was something made by cars running over the pretty slow transforming it into that half frozen gunk. I was
Click image: "Christmas At Night" by Unknown surprised to discover that slush could fall from the sky. It came down as stinging snow with a few big flakes thrown in there and ended up on the ground in growing puddles of gray melange.
Still we got to inspect the neighbors already installed Christmas lights. Kind of dull to look at Christmas lights during the day but we enjoyed it. We have some lights here. I'm inspired to string some of them outside. The house isn't in a place where anyone could see them except us. I don't mind that much.
After mopping the floors I shoveled snow. I don't think my technique has improved much from last year. This slushy stuff was heavy, still slick but had the added bonus of being wet enough to sneak inside my shoe. I got the walks and car home shoveled, cleared the drive way in a sloppy way and kept the gates cleared.
Snow: My Friend, My Enemy.

Click images for desktop size: "Marilyn Monroe" I got some interesting emails yesterday.
The first was from the animal rescue service I used to foster puppies for. I still feel grateful to them for trusting all those great dogs to me. That I got to meet a couple of great people who adopted my dogs was a sweet fringe benefit (one of them, a couple I'm fond of, is having a baby any day now!!).
Early in November they had to send out a message. They were flat broke. They couldn't rescue any more dogs. I find it odd that the city and county still charges a rescue group money for dogs that the government is planning to cruelly murder.
This was distressing. They're in the midst of doing all those crazy desperate fundraising things, selling coupon books and junk like that.
Yesterday I got another email from them. The group won a contest to become "America's Best Animal Shelter". Which is sweet in and of itself. I like a few people in the group quite a lot and was pleased for them. The best part was that the title comes with a $10,000 prize! This pleases me most. My best friend in the group already emailed me that this meant at least 1,200 dogs would be rescued! And she already had 20 picked out.
Seems semi-miraculous. I'm counting it a one of my Christmas presents. Over a thousand dogs I no longer have to worry about!
I heard from one of my kids. He asked me "if I minded all the pain".
If you don't know the kid or understand a coach's relationship to his athletes that might seem like an obtuse and even weird question.
This kid, he's a man now but my issue is that I almost always think of them first as kids, had a
Click images for desktop size: "Tall Building" by Unknown rougher time of it then most. He played right tackle for me. He was excellent. Part of our first National Championship team and was an important part of that team.
He was going to get thrown out of school. Not for conduct but because they'd decided this big kid was mentally retarded. This surprised me quite a bit. I didn't think a mentally retarded kid could learn his assignments for me quite so well.
Fortunately for him one of my coaches was dyslexic. He recognized the symptoms and had a similar experience when he was in school.
With the assistance of my friend we were able to get him tested. The kid was dyslexic. We managed to keep him in school. He did so well he got accepted into a pretty prestigious University. He did pretty well there too. Then he was diagnosed with Crohns Disease.
Being the sort of dummy I am I'd never heard of it. I figured something I'd never heard of couldn't be that bad. (Sometimes I am such an American.)
When I next saw him I was surprised. He'd lost at least 50 pounds of muscle mass. He looked sickly. He was in and out of hospital but he was still managing to keep on top of his studies and with the bare minimum of concessions from his prof's he was not falling behind his class.
He was stoked because Anastasia, the blues pop star, also has Crohns disease. To her credit while she was on tour she visited kids in the hospital with the same disease.
It finally came that the kid was going to graduate university. I was as proud of him as I'd ever been of any kid. All that was left were his finals and he was pure confidence about them.
Then I got the call that he was in hospital. His bowel had ruptured and he had certainly developed peritonitis.
I visited him in hospital while he was having surgery. Most of his old teammates were there. Some of them had taken it on themselves to contact his school and set it up for him to take his two remaining finals after he got out of hospital.
Another kid had driven the kid's mother to the hospital so she wouldn't have to take the tube. All of them were very solicitous of her.
I was proud of them all, proud of the kids who had grown into good young men. A bit dismayed that I'd never noticed it before. I put it off to the beauty and integrity of the game I loved that they had all played to the best of their abilities.
My kid survived the operation. He survived the entire ordeal. He graduated with a BS degree and
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Mandan started to work. He's living the life he's dreamed of.
I remember him giving me a lift once from the leukemia hospice, shortly after his operation. We shared hospital stories and he showed me his colostomy bag . . .
When he wants to know "if I mind the pain" I know what he's asking and why. I only want him to be alright.
There's plenty of times you have to be tough in this life. I hope its not too often and not ever now for him.

After reading yet another email about how I could love animals and not be a vegetarian . . . my friend got home from the first day back at work. She was sleepy. She still spent nearly 4 hours making vegetarian shis ka bab.
I tired to start a fire in the fireplace. It didn't go well. I burned up most of the paper designated for recycling and a couple of those camphor smelling "fire starter" blocks and nada. I managed to burn all of the wood up but never got it to burst into pretty warm flames.
If I were a cave man we'd all be eating cow sushi and grinding beans between our teeth.
I did get a good high quality smolder going on. Lots of good smoke and little heat . . .
To celebrate I had to go out and continue shoveling newly fallen slush.
I think I was a California kid for a reason . . .
The dogs enjoyed the shoveling although they were, as usual, disappointed I didn't slip and fall down.
I didn't watch the cruddy football game. I watched a South American movie called Tres Dias. An odd Sci-Fi thing. A meteor is going to strike the planet earth and its a dead lock that no one will survive.

Click images for desktop size: "Rockin' Cadillac" by Unknown At first it was pretty interesting as it told the apocalypse completely through the eyes of a small Chilean village, with fuzzy TV pictures and suicides. (All the communication satellites are not out, planes are crashing as the earth magnetic poles getting skewed.) It was interesting but then it got silly.
The prison guards abandon their posts and all the prisoners escape. One brutal convict decides that the last 3 days of his life should be used to get revenge against this guy and his mother in this little village. Its sort of dull as a thriller. Especially after it was being so elegant in its depiction of the small and bewildered people trying to grasp the enormity of their mortality.
I went to bed relatively early. Good thing. I was up at 5. The gentle dog was barking at something outside. Turns out it was the cat . . .

Posted by David at 11:56 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Click images for desktop size: "Inspiration" by Richard Mohler Thanksgiving turned out to be an excellent day.
Except for the NFL football schedule which was pretty bad. Three uninteresting blow outs in a day . . .
It was the Philadelphia-Arizona game that was the most interesting and that was only because the Eagles didn't stink and the Cardinals did. I picked the Cardinals because I figured that they'd finally get over this weird bugaboo of not being able to win in different time zone . . .
Click image: "Untitled" by HR Giger
It was a bit sad seeing Dante Culpepper look so dreadful for the Lions, who were the most dreadful football team I've ever seen. I think a few non BCS schools could hand them their heads. Culpepper has fought so hard for so long it was bafflingly sad to see him attempt to lead these bumbling lost souls.
Aside from the NFL it was a great day.
My pain is under control. There are only two places where its bad. I gather this means I can assume I have abscesses.

Click images for desktop size: "Geisha" by Unknown One is in a left lower molar. I took a cold drink and it touched the tooth. It was electric. I guess I'll have to lose that tooth. Its not getting better. The other is in my left hip. If I take a step wrong its excruciating. I think it feels worse because the other pain is so negligible now.
There's no swelling in the hip or anything. I have no idea what they do to deal with a deep muscle abscess. I hope I don't have to find out.
I've only taken 800 mg of ibuprofen this morning and feel durable.
Anyway, yesterday we went to the Chinese Buffet!
I wore gold corduroy slacks (instead of my usual jeans or a suit), a gold soft chenille like shirt that looks almost like suede, a brown belt and brown Rockport deck shoes.
I thought I looked good and was a visual treat. I got no compliments but I put that off to the fact that I always look pretty good.
The only jarring note to the ensemble was my burgundy fleece. It has two large inner pockets that I lined with plastic ziplock bags!
The restaurant was busy but not packed out. It was surprisingly decorated for Christmas. Pretty tree, lights and other decorations. One I thought was add, wreaths with ribbons that said, "I Like Snow". I figure you have to like it because its not going anyplace.
I ate more food yesterday than I think I've eaten in at least three months! I say three months but I really can't think of anytime I've eaten more.
I had two handmade shrimp cocktails. Some pickled style shrimp, too much breaded calamari, and the usual Chinese dishes and noodles that I like (garlic chicken, koa pao chicken with lots of
Click image: "The Enchanted Prince" by Maxfield Parrish different style noodles).
I was also able to get about half a pound of bacon! Three sausage links and 5 skewers of chicken for the dogs.
I managed to totally trash out my well assembled ensemble. I got pizza sauce all over it. Its pretty hard surreptitiously sneaking 3 slices into plastic bags on your fleece while standing at a food counter . . . I did it but at the price of looking like the sloppiest eater that ever entered a buffet line.
At least we got to leave with no further embarrassment like being asked why my midsection had gotten so lumpish.
For desert I got a little square of sugar free cheesecake. It wasn't as good as the mere idea of eating cheesecake. Then I had a small dish of cookies and cream ice cream topped with bananas in strawberry sauce.
My friend and I were enjoying ourselves so much we actually thought about going back for more . . . we didn't but it was tempting.
We left content. Made one stop to get some cans of dog food. I use that on the pups kibble. I make a sort of gravy for their breakfast, mainly to hide the flavor of the brewers yeast and stuff I feel compelled to insure they eat.
When we got in the house the dogs went berserk. I must have reeked of pizza and bacon.
I wouldn't give them any.
They were still glad to see us. Maybe the smells were enough.
It was time to give them their Frontline anti-flea treatment. (Last year it was in the coldest part of the winter that the fleas were at their very worst!)
After I gave them their Frontline I gave them half a piece of bacon, one at a time. As usual the giant dog ran from me. He hates sprays or Frontline or just about anything being put on him. After our usual fight I got him treated and he ran to get to the kitchen fully expecting his piece of bacon. He'd carefully noted that the other two got their bacon after treatment . . .
He makes me laugh.
I sat down to watch the football and promptly fell asleep . . . I don't know if it was so much the food as it was the boring game. Of course getting up at 5 after going to bed at 2 might have had something to do with it . . .
I woke up and was not hungry at all, even after my friend made Yorkshire pudding! I had no desire to eat, in a nice way.
I made the dogs their dinner. Helped my puppy write her blog post, mainly by taking pictures and staying out of her way. She claims I try and take too much credit anyway.
When I woke this morning I was still not hungry and didn't have any trace of the shaky hollowness I usually face in the morning.
Last night I tired to experiment by going to bed in silence. It didn't work.
I tossed and turned and felt every pain in my body and tried to quantize each ache and throb. I thought about how much I loved my friend and my dogs and how much I don't care for cats in general and cats who bite me in reflex in particular. An hour later I got up and got the iPod, put it on and was passed out in 20 minutes.
Today I've been promised a gourmet breakfast with homemade bread for toast! I think it will be brunch really.
After that its the games. I have to believe the college games will be better than the NFL. They usually are.
I'm still shocked that the USC - Notre Dame isn't on TV. I gather its the first time since 1966 that the game hasn't been broadcast nationally. Charlie Weiss claims he's a genius. Maybe he is but it sure isn't in the area of coaching a college team.

Posted by David at 11:49 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Amano Maten It snowed here yesterday.
All day and through the night. I swept 5 inches of it off of the car so I guess its safe to say there was at least five inches of snow.
They say that this is awfully early for this much snow here. I wonder if they're just trying to console me, give me a false sense of security.
Funny enough, I don't much mind the snow. I prefer shoveling the snow and spreading salt and stuff to mowing the grass and raking leaves. I'd rather have a full gardening crew do all of it but for some reason I don't mind the snow as much. Maybe because its still pretty new stuff to me.
I do point out, with pride, that I've not fallen down yet . . . Its early days yet and the dogs are eyeing me, knowing they'll get their chance.
Click image: "Untitled" by Michael Whelan
Last night I went out in the storm (which is a harsh word for the amount of snow there was but I still thought of it as a storm) and I was momentarily stunned with the peace and calm of it all. The moon really did give the landscape "the luster of midday." The tree branches all dripped and bowed under the weight of the snow.
It was all very beautiful, peaceful and serene until my puppy and the giant dog decided to plow through the unbroken snow rolling and tumbling while they had their big play fight. They gamboled and tried to get me to join in. They buried their muzzles in the drifts and ate it up like ice cream charging back and forth, looking for good eating snow while occasionally attacking one another for no good reason.
THen they'd come up and push their wet bodies hard against me for some pets and play. My unbroken winter landscape now looked like a battlefield from World War One.
If the dogs weren't panting and wild eyed with giddy joy it would have been hard to take. I decided I
Click images for desktop size: "Buttons And Denim" by Unknown liked the busted up yard as much as I liked the pretty painting of the yard as it was before. It meant more than just prettiness and/or a lack of ugliness and concealed messes.
I think that's the reason that I like the snow more than grass and raking. The dogs love to watch me shovel the snow. They like to dig through each shovel full making sure I'm not discarding something important. They like to watch me grumble and curse and maybe even slip and fall. They like to check ahead and come back to tell me its safe to proceed, and they like to stand obstinately directly in my path to see if they can make me go around them.
In other words arduous chores become fun. So that even if I had someone to shovel the snow and plow the driveway I'd still be out there with my nicked up blade shovel with my doggie buddies.

AppleTV did an update last night. Bringing it up to 2.3.
I haven't installed it yet because it disables and removes Boxee! I'm not sure why Apple goes out of its way to remove 3rd party applications. I read it was doing the same thing to the iPhone.
Seems sort of paranoid controlling to me. It might have something to do with the MPAA or the Networks.
Boxee lets you watch Hula and CBS, Comedy Central et al right on your TV. Since these are already advertiser supported I can't see the networks much caring about this. Watching them this way there's no way to skim through the commercials,
Click images for desktop size: "Big Medicine" by Unknown whereas if I was using a DVR I can zip right through all of that.
I can't imagine why the networks would want me to be forced to watch their stuff only on my computer.
The MPAA might not like that Boxee allows easy watching of Xvid and DIVX files through the AppleTV. They might view this as condoning or encouraging video piracy.
With the way these same media conglomerates are fighting the idea of DRM free music this short sighted approach is possible.
But since I could set up a cheap old computer and call it a "Media Center" or even use a Mac Mini instead of a TV that would circumvent all of these protections and even make things more available.
In fact over on Engadget a lot of guys are mocking the AppleTV by claiming how their XBox 360's and Playstation 3's can already play all of this stuff without any add ons.
I prefer the AppleTV for several reasons, not least is that its small and near silent. It also adds to my enjoyment in the various streaming modes.
But considering that the latest AppleTV also does not allow re-installing Boxee it seems that the update was mainly just to allow Apple to maintain its paranoid consumer unfriendly control of the things you buy.
I hate that. It stinks of Microsoft.
It also means I won't be installing the AppleTV update until Boxee figures out how to reinstall itself. That shouldn't be too long.

I'm not doing great.
I'm not doing badly, just not great.
I'm getting a cold . . . so being in pain and congested with a thick feverish head is a bit much!
Its not that bad though.
I noticed that for about 15 or 30 minutes after I wake up in the morning I'm pain free. SO maybe that's a good reason to take a nap, a lot of naps!
I'm planning on making matzo ball soup today. My puppy's aunt sent me a package of matzo ball soup mix. Any modern scientist will tell you that matzo ball soup is the only approved cure for a cold!
So that's the plan for today. It should be interesting. One place the pups are not a lot of help in is the kitchen. Only because they don't believe that everything that comes out of the kitchen is not for them.

Posted by David at 11:00 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Sakura" by Digital Blasphemy This has become a house of illness!
My friend was home yesterday. Home sick. She puts it off to gluten poisoning! I'm not so sure, but what do I know.
The giant dog was ill Wednesday night. Then my puppy was ill last night. So ill she didn't even come and start bugging me for dinner!
My puppy being ill is always a source of worry.
The worst part is that I'm still sick but I'm used to it so I got to be nursemaid . . . I'm not that good at that.
Still got some of the things done. Changed and washed the sheets and the vomited on things, so that my friend would at least have a cool clean bed to suffer in.
I got some bare maintenance house cleaning done. It was raining so I couldn't do any yard work. Which bugged me. The worse I feel the more I like to be doing something.
Click image: "Tom Ewell & Marilyn Monroe" Mot heroic something but when I'm moving around I don't have time focusing on my pain. Nursemaiding doesn't change my focus enough to do the same thing.
When the rain broke I took the gentle dog and my puppy for a walk to get a loaf of bread for me (I still like to eat "raw" bread when I'm sick) and some Jalapeno Halvarti cheese for my friend . . . I'm not sure if cheese is the best thing for someone who's sick. I didn't think of that then. I only thought of that now.
After that I put on "Air Bud: Spikes Back". The Air Bud movies are these harmless pretty bad flics about a sports playing golden retriever.
Yeah. I liked it plenty. But I'm the sort who enjoys seeing how nicely a dog walks down stairs. My friend does too so it was a good movie for lounging about and feeling terrible to.
In this one Bud plays volleyball. Bud plays the center or the setter on the team. This lets us have a couple jokes about too bad he's not an irish setter, which tells you the quality of these films.
I really liked the Air Bud movie where he played football. I laughed a lot just seeing a dog wearing a
Click images for desktop size: "Thor & Hercules" by Marvel Comics silly football helmet . . . This one was okay by those standards but "Spikes Back" is the least of these movies.
When you see the Japanese dog films and compare it to the American output its pretty depressing.
It makes me worry a lot about Richard Gere making a movie about Hachiko. Hachiko is still one of the most thrilling and moving true dog stories ever.
I worry about how they'll miss the simple beauty of Hachiko's story and turn it into something that's not about a dog's love and loyalty and will instead make a movie about people. There are plenty of movies about people. I think that this one could afford to be about the dog. He's the quiet heart broken hero, not the reporter or the emperor.
After that my friend went for a proper lie down and I put on "The Face of Another". Its one of those Japanese art films from the sixties. Pretentious and all that. This is from the guy who made "Woman In The Dunes" which was pretty pretentious but kind of fun.
This one was a black and white semi science fiction thing. A tech salary man gets his face blown off by using a tank of liquid oxygen instead of a tank of liquid air . . . I have no real idea what the difference is.
The salary man goes crazier and crazier but in one of those wordy ways, not slicing and dicing people but just talking too much.
The salary man goes to a shrink who specializes in building the self esteem of people who've been disfigured in accidents. He makes plastic body parts to stop people from obsessing about their differences.
For the salary man he decides to do something incredibly unethical and make him a mask! I have no idea why making a mask is unethical.
The shrink makes him a mask that is super real. No one would ever think it was a mask. The salary man develops another personality to go along with his new face. And that's about it.
There's all sorts of babble about how society perceives faces and that's about it . . .
I fell asleep during it. Slept so hard that I couldn't be awakened. Which is strange for me. Stranger that my puppy didn't try and wake me at dinner time!
At least all the dogs ate their usual breakfasts. I made them blander than usual. What could be
Click images for desktop size: "Conceptions" by Luis Royo blander than dog food anyway. They all ate it up and are all in their usual sleeping positions.
The gentle dog is wrapped around my feet. The giant dog is on the love seat hoping that someone will try and steal his precious rawhide. And my puppy is sprawled on the bed.
My friend is at work and I have that nasty totally hollow feeling in my body.
So all is normal.
Today's plan: To unclog the drains around the house, preventative somewhat. To take all the dogs for a good long walk. And to not succumb to falling asleep in the middle of the day.
After a bright sunny morning the clouds are gathering again. I don't want ti to rain. They say it will snow this weekend.
I don't mind the snow. Somethings about it I like a lot. I've just got all these leaves that have to be removed and right now they are too wet and yukky to deal with. At least to wet and yukky for me.
I feel terrible. For some reason I still think I'm going to win . . .

Posted by David at 10:28 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Mon Belle Ami" by Unknown Like most people I see things as I want to see them. This isn't neurotic or psychotic. It is just one of those things you learn in Philosophy 101, along with that damn Plato's Cave thing.
Like when I look at my puppy I always see that erstwhile little dog who stood on her hind legs with her front feet resting on the little console as she stared resolutely out the windshield, occasionally and unexpectedly leaning over to give my face a lick.
That's a problem. It let me over feed her to the point of obesity. That's bad. Real bad. Worse in dogs than even in humans. But she always looked so happy when she got a treat . . .
Her being happy made my moments joyous, even as I was killing her. All because my subjective reality saw that little puppy dealing with her stress and doing so only to please me, to make me happy.
When I look at my friend . . .

Click images for desktop size: "Valley" by Unknown
Yesterday was a long day. I did a lot. Not a lot of different things but a lot.
It was nice because I did a lot of yard work and had all three dogs outside with me for most of it.
I filled in the two holes the giant dog had dug. I still don't know why he digs them. Its not boredom, so I wonder what he's looking for.
Knowing the giant dog well I figure he lost a bone someplace in the yard and he's digging the holes here because its easier to dig here than there. There's no grass right in front of the door. The dogs always hit the ground running there and have a nice little circle of dirt and dust to roll in.
I filled all three of them in with mushroom mulch. I have a fantasy of grass growing back there one day.
I took the half empty bag of mulch back and then went to the shed to get the leaf blower. It took me about 10 minutes.
When I got back the giant dog was all pleased and excited. His butt was wiggling with unbridled joy and expectation. He knew I;d be pleased. Instead of three holes there were now four, and these were all much deeper and bigger than the ones I filled in.

Click images for desktop size: "Yin and Yang Sky" by WK Wong In dog reality I had clearly filled in the holes not due to hating holes but because I clearly wanted a better quality hole. He just knew I'd be so pleased.
He made me laugh. I laughed harder when he was shocked I didn't give him a cookie as a reward for his hard work.
I'd never really used a leaf blower before. I was looking forward to it. I got the dogs in the house. If anyone was going to get blinded I figured it should only be me.
Now, my friend has this Black & Decker Leaf Hog. Interesting name. I guess its intended to be appealing.
My friend said that it was intended to vacuum up leaves and mulch them. She said it did this terribly and that it was only useful as a leaf blower. Its a huge thing, nearly 5 feet long.
There a long thick nozzle that ends in a six inch diameter intake. Then down by the handgrip is a three inch exhaust.
Even though there's a sticker on the nozzle that says "Be sure power is off before converting to vacuum or blower" there's absolutely no apparent way to make this conversion. When I turned it on it was pretty apparent that it was set to vacuum. It wasn't picking anything up but there was a pleasantly powerful exhaust blasting my feet.
I fussed with it, got bored with the fussing so I carried the thing like a military rifle at "order arms" position and directed the exhaust as a leaf blower by turning my body and twisting the thing up and down.
Worked pretty well but made me pretty arm weary. Its electric so not so heavy just big enough to be awkward and uncomfortable.
I got some big sections of the yard done. I had to give up at one space when I had a fifteen foot wall of leaves about three feet high. The dogs loved that. They've made it a fifteen foot wall that's now two feet tall and five feet wide (at last look).
Inside the house I continued my love affair with the new roomba. I'd left it running with the dogs in the house. I wasn't worried about it after I'd seen the gentle dog sleeping on the floor. The roomba bumped his foot and he lazily looked up at it then lay back down to sleep.
The roomba picked up an amazing amount of filth. I sent the dogs outside so I could mop the house. The place looked and smelled immaculate. I was very impressed.
I let the dogs back in. The cat came in with them and suddenly my immaculate floors were covered with yard dirt and dead leaves. Darn cat . . . always dragging in filth.
Darkness was coming on so I decided to watch a movie. My friend Jon had sent me a Thai flic called "Som Tum".
I've known Jon since he was 12. He was a pet store groupie. He liked to hang out and play with all the animals, eventually my wife had to give him a job.
Jon was thai. His mom was a single parent. She worked in the notorious Oki Dog. Oki Dog is that place at the fringe of West Hollywood that's used to be the hangout for the runaways and male hustlers. It made the most revolting food ever
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Dark Art conceived. An okie dog was two grilled hot dogs with chili and a huge amount of odd veggies all wrapped in a flour tortilla. An oki dog was incredibly cheap though. I think it was a buck. You sure couldn't eat more than one . . .
Jon's mom said, correctly, that she couldn't afford for Jon to have all the pets he craved. Jon loved animals, birds, mice, and especially dogs and rabbits. He came to our house often and our dogs and rabbits loved him nearly as much as he loved them. They were always excited to see him and he never even gave them treats.
When we were entrusted by our vet to feed an abandoned tiger cub Jon worked even harder than we did to try and keep the thing alive. The tiger had to be fed every two hours. When I'd get up in the middle of the night to feed it Jon would already be there at the cage wanting to help.
When the tiger didn't make it Jon cried, not hysterically but with a deep profound sense of loss.
Working at a cruddy minimum wage job where she had to fend off the advances of the owner was not the reason Jon's mom had immigrated.
She decided to return to Thailand. This upset Jon terribly. He was 17 now and had turned into a pretty good kid. His love of animals had not diminished. We talked to his mom and we decided he could stay with us until he graduated from Fairfax High. He was no problem, actually a lot of help with our menagerie of animals.
Jon took me to the Thai movie theater for my birthday. It was this dilapidated joint down on Vermont way past Pico is all I remember but way before Exposition too.
The films were terrible. It didn't help that the theater was using a projector bulb that should have been replaced months ago. Seeing a dim shadow of a poorly shot film with indecipherable poorly translated subtitles is not my idea of arty filmmaking.
Like all kids Jon decided that since I didn't like those THREE movies I hated all Thai cinema. And as I
Click images for desktop size: "Bandicoot" by Unknown was an adult this meant my opinion could never ever change.
When he graduated from school I took him back to Thailand. I';d never been and he was eager for me to see what a terrible wretched place it was so I could always feel sorry for him . . . or something like that.
We assiduously avoided all movie theaters. His choice. I was actually rather interested. I liked the garish posters.
He was shocked to read that I consider "Tom Yum Gum" as one of the 10 greatest films ever made. See, its a Thai movie. How could I like it? I hated Thai movies!
For my birthday Jon sent me a copy of a Thai move, Som Tum". It stars Nathan Jones. Jones was the giant muscle man that Tony Jaa has a memorable fight with at the Buddhist temple in "Tom Yum Gum"
I was surprised when I started the movie and over the logo's the subtitles read, "Subtitles not for sale. Specially prepared translation by Jon for his friend DC".
I was moved by this. I had to be.
For some reason Jon translated the Aussie English in the movie as well as the Thai. I guess he figures that I'm too stupid and too American to understand the accented English without help. He knows me pretty well so he probably has a point.
"Som Tum" is an alright movie. It has some remarkably touching scenes. It has some excellent fights, mainly from a 12 year old girl who is truly incredible. Jones is mainly a comic prop who, even though he has a big fight scene at the end, mainly seems to be showing how through love and concern for others it is possible to build self esteem and familial ties WITHOUT fighting.
Pretty laudable.
The plot is that Jones is a gentle giant but when he eats Sum Tom, a spicy Thai salad, the chili's make him flush red and he turns into a crazed fighting machine. Fortunately this weird take on Popeye and his spinach is not overdone.
Most of the film is about four people learning to trust and love each other even though they are alien and speak a different language. Its over plotted: there's a jewel robbery and plenty of fights but at its heart its more sweet than exhilarating.
Jones and the girls rebuilding the family restaurant is given more emotional weight and thrills than the very good fight scenes. The final denouement is Jones realizing he's not a loser or a low life. He
Click images for desktop size: "Winter Lights" by Unknown came to Thailand because he won a raffle where the trip was the prize. For Jones it was more exciting that he got his name in the newspaper for being the winner then actually winning something. Its was the only time in his life he'd felt like he'd accomplished anything.
A good movie that I'll always hold as special.

Post election I'm still amused by the Palin stories. She seems unaware that she's become a national joke.
Obama has been President elect for a whole day.
So far nothing in my life has changed for the better.
So far I'd have to say I'm very disappointed in his performance . . .

Posted by David at 9:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Hallowed Halls" by Stag I haven't been sleeping well.
It's that sort of half sleep half waking that makes me feel like I'm turning into General Sternwood without the money and the hot house orchids.
For whatever reason I thought about my dogs. Not the ones living with me now but the dogs whose friendships have passed through my life.
I remember my third Belgian Shepherd, Penny. It was right after the big tragedy. Penny was recovering but her middle was so tightly wrapped with brown stained bandages that she looked like some sort of anorexic mummy.
I couldn't stand to be in the house that night so I took her and we checked into a motel on the Strip.
Click image: "Lon Chaney-Phantom Of The Opera" After we checked in I lay down on the bed. I became aware of all the activity outside my room and realized that I had checked into one of those joints used by the Sunset Strip streetwalkers for business.
That didn't bother in and of itself but lying there in that sin filled bed started to creep me out.
I threw the spread on the floor and laid down on it. Penny came over and with no preamble laid down beside me and pressed her damaged body hard against me. She rested her head on my stomach, looked at me and closed her eyes to sleep.
She made me feel loved. There's nothing ever wrong or cheap about feeling loved.
I remembered her body pressed against mine clearly with muscle and skin memory.
I remembered my little Texas dog. I used to get up at 3 AM or so to go down to the daily labor place. One day this puppy started to follow me. She waited outside the daily labor place while I waited inside to get no work. When it started to dawn I started to walk home. The puppy followed me.

Click images for desktop size: "Harbour Sunset" by MattV8 I remember how I was distraught about this. How I knew I couldn't afford to feed a dog. I was eating a 25 cent bag of microwave popcorn for my meal a day, on good days I was eating those 49 cent macaroni and cheese dinners. I lived in a room with a communal kitchen. No pets allowed. Taking care of a dog would be impossible.
I tried to tell the little pup this but she just keep dancing and play bounding around me. Other people started to pass us as the city began to wake up. The pup ignored them and just stuck close to me.
As worried and impossible as it was I was still thrilled to know that no matter how decrepit my station in life this little dog didn't care. She just loved me.
it went in a roundabout way but we took care of each other. I paid for her shots and her food by bartering with a vet. She let me help her on her large animal calls.
I remember the little pup snuffling and snorting at bulls who moo-ed at me too aggressively. But what I remember with present time resolution and 100,000:1 contrast is how much she loved me and trusted me.
And I remember the little blind dog who on first "sight" of me decided that we were best friends. Now and forever and that we'd been best friends before we ever knew each other.
I think that people who minimize the value of animals are sad and lonely people who can't get past the cruelty that burns itself across their tarnished hearts.
Not to diminish any person who has loved me or that I have loved I still think that the love I have for dogs and that they have had for me is the cleanest, least complicated and deepest that a man can feel.
Love between people is more intense and maybe a touch more important to our sanity and dealings and copings with a mad world, but its the unwavering love between a man and his dog that sets the zenith that people need to aspire to.
With all the bickering and squabbling I realized that I've probably gotten there. That realization let me sleep.

There's an article in Todays Guardian: "The Chameleon: Who is the real Sarah Palin?"
It takes a Brit paper to give an objective view of this woman. Or maybe i just think its objective
Click images for desktop size: "Dark Futurist" by Maxfield Parrish because it fits my view of the woman.
There are some bits that actually make me feel some empathy, actually pity, for the woman. She's a monster, no doubt, but she's a human being as well. A conniving hate filled angry insecure scaredy cat, but a person beneath that.
It certainly looks like her ambition has put her in an ugly place where she's being manipulated rather cynically. Part of her monstrosity is in her rather sad need to be accepted by people who are even more unscrupulous than she is.
That is sad. A tragedy in some ways. It doesn't excuse her, nor does it justify here confounding ability to believe whatever "truth" she sputters out no matter how contradicting to the facts or even to her previous statements is the honest to Her God's truth.
All people are unique. All people share points in common. Palin is confirmed in my mind as being exactly like every other failed actress wannabee beauty queen that I've ever met.
Except Palin discovered politics. She started by get just over 600 people to think she was okay. That's not enough to fill an Equity Waiver show for a week. Her act would have closed after one night on Broadway, off-Broadway. But it made her happy. Her apparent incompetence didn't deter her. She was loved.
She become a blood lusting wench to appeal and keep her rather dowdy insecure husband in love with her. That all makes sense and it fits the known facts and makes what is happening now inevitable.
She's the superstar she always wanted to be. She'll view every vote she gets on election day like a ticket purchased to the Sarah movie and it will thrill her. No matter if it costs her her soul. She gave her soul away a long time ago. Maybe it was stolen from her. Not my problem to figure out.
Its a decent article. Worth reading.
I have to go play with my puppies. They think they have a strategy for beating me.

Posted by David at 10:47 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "City Lines" by Blurburger The dog walk was a wonderful thing.
Such things always seem to be.
My heart was bursting with the good feeling I usually associate with 6 year olds on Christmas morning.
My puppy was appropriately nervous about all the strange new dogs but she still went over to greet our next door neighbor's dog. She was very pleased she got to smell his butt. She wouldn't let him smell hers! This made her think that she won . . . something, I guess.
Usually they only get to see each other through the fence so this was her excitement for the day.
The gentle dog was not gentle. He was very surly about these strange dogs milling about. He doesn't mind being submissive around the house but he wasn't going to take it from these dogs!

Click images for desktop size: "Tree" by Unknown The giant dog was terrified. He almost always is. Like my puppy he doesn't care much for new things.
it all changed when we hit the trail. Sadly this walk was not very well attended. It was a beautiful day and the place is still magnificent. I continue to be impressed that a place that charges 100k for a wedding party would let a bunch of dogs roam free on its tended woods.
(Part of my agenda is to call them today to at least thank them and then to try and beg for permission to take the dogs there on our own . . . for free . . . )
Very soon we had the trail completely to ourselves. The dogs were ecstatic. They ran, found mud to step in and stink from. They explored and got covered with burrs and stenches. It was a wonderful
Click images for desktop size: "Poodle Party" by Unknown day.

I'm still waiting for the internet service to get cut off. The phone, mobile and internet are all on the same phone bill. On Friday they cut off my friends mobile because we're late with the payment.
A while ago I managed to get a DSL service that costs about 25% of what the phone company charges. The DSL still come through on the phone companies line though. On October 13th they'll switch us over to a "Dry Loop DSL line". Which basically means its a phone line where you can't make or receive phone calls but you can still get DSL service.
The government makes them do this so you know the phone company isn't too stoked about it. I'm not sure why it takes so long for them to do this switch as they don't have to come to the house or anything. They just have to flip a switch somewhere.
I guess there could be so many switches that they have to have two weeks to track down the right one . . .
In any event, no phone line, no DSL, no internet . . . I've no idea if they'll wait until the 13th or cut off the phone earlier for non-payment.
When the dry loop DSL gets switched on (oh and its ADSL no matter what they're trying to call it) we'll have the Vonage line. With the extra monthly charge for the dry loop line (yes, of course they charge extra for it) the internet package and phone line will save about 60% per month. Not insubstantial. Worth a bit of inconvenience, for sure. Just don't think I'm dead if you don't hear from me until after the 13th. Even talking to the phone company they give no indication of what they might do.
Interesting how the internet has become a necessity so quickly. I think it took the car 40 years to become vital, the phone about 60 years. Even electricity took over 50 years to be required. I'd guess the internet took about 10?

One thing the internet has done is make politics more accessible. Even the Republican extremist mad men know how to use it. Although they won't to censor it and want to enlist the providers in this quest. They might succeed by destroying net neutrality which will give the utility companies more of our money and enable them to keep you from seeing stuff they don't want you to see.
Stuff like this: The Make Believe Maverick. This is a surprising clear and clean article. Sadly its in Rolling Stone. They seem to know where they're treading as they keep things very very precise and exact and verifiable.
They get involved in McCain's cooperation with the enemy when he was a prisoner of war but stop short of talking about the films he supposedly made. I guess its rumour and they have too many facts to show that McCain is not what he claims to be. He's no patriot and in the Korean War
Click images for desktop size: "Dragon Lady" by Unknown he would have been disgraced as a traitor.
Reading this and its clear that there are no brother POW's who would take the stage and stand alongside him.
Then there is this measured piece about Sarah Palin's Dislike of Minorities and Native Americans. The title is inflammatory. Its a nasty subject. The article is carefully considered and merely points out the facts. Palin is the governor of a state that we think of as being almost all white, but there is a 10% black population that Palin has assiduously ignored and kept down. She has also, apparently, done her best to hide and/or destroy the Native American Eskimo's. She has removed Native American's from almost all government posts and has no blacks in any positions.
Pretty unthinkable and certainly unconsciousinable.
Especially from someone who is trying to tie 6 year old Barack Obama to the old SDS and Weathermen groups. Sort of ignoring the fact that to a lot of hippies and the like those groups were mildly heroically perceived in those days of war and protest she still seeks to align him even though the issue has already been examined and discarded as groundless.
Remember the lesson of Lyndon Johnson, "Make him deny it!"
I don't like Obama much. I like Joe Biden because he suddenly became human to me. But the scurrilous lies of McCain and harpy Palin have pushed me into the uncomfortable position of having to support Obama fervently. To let these sons and daughters of Nixon have a toe hold of power is revolting, dangerous and, with no exaggeration, could lead to the end of the world.
No one is too startled that Palin looks like a tax cheat. No one is surprised that she's a vindictive shrew who has used her power to illegally destroy a man who had the temerity to divorce her sister. What makes no sense is the Republican Party's desire to help her cover this up. So incendiary internet articles like this: The Storm Troopers Dark Side are to be expected and have a basis in being more honest that the people they're attacking.
See, I don't want to have a leader who's the same as me. I want a leader who's better than me. who I can look up to because of their intelligence, their empathy and their drive, not their ambition, bigotry, lies and hatred of the people they seek to lead.

Posted by David at 10:59 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "From Darkness To Light" by Shifted Reality With the Dodgers and the Cubs both in the playoff's I can't lose! At least not in the first round. I was surprised that the Dodgers showed so much power. Not so surprised that the Cubs were held in check.
I hope it goes seven games and that the winner eviscerates the Phillies and gets to the world series. The series really should be the Cubs vs the Angels, but I'll take whatever happens!

Finished off the sick day by watching two more movies, watched them curled up and too hot underneath down like comforters.
Watched "The Rocker". Pretty bad comedy about a drummer who got kicked out of his band on the eve of their legendary success. The
Click for desktop size: "Bride Of Frankenstein" by Universaldrummer stages a comeback twenty bitter years later with his nephews alternative rock band. It had a surprising number of good laughs in it. The acting was on a pretty decent level. The real surprise was they cast Pete Best (the drummer the Beatles kicked out of the band on the eve of their success) playing the replacement drummer.
The plot was wonky and the music was dreadful but I laughed aloud quite a few times. Much more enjoyable than it had any right to be.
We ended the night watching "10 Things I Promised My Dog". Now, I'm a sucker for Japanese dog movies. They are virtually their own genre.
They are remarkably gentle films. Extremely life like in their tragedy and conflict but always there are redeeming people about, always there is love and always there is a beautiful dog who behaves exactly like a dog and not like a movie star.
Click images for desktop size: "Superman" by DC Comics
There's never a bad guy in these movies. There's never any dramatic conflict of that sort. The intrusions into the little world are always the product of fate, of life and its vagaries.
It works well for me. I always get misty when the dog passes away from old age.
The genre is so popular in Japan that they made a film that was a massive hit: "Always". It was a generic dog movie WITHOUT THE DOG!
I liked "Always" fine. I preferred "10 Things I Promised My Dog" because it has the cathartic release of getting me misty when the dog passed away at the end. "10 Things" had some great acting. The guy playing the father was superb. The dog was excellent, the girl was cute and bland. There was a classical guitarist. He was actually playing live in the film. He was impressive as a player. Its always stunning when musicians play live in movies. It got Gary Busey his oscar nomination ("The Buddy Holly Story"). Its so effective in building its own little tension that its surprising its not done more often.
I can't recommend this one to anyone but fans of the genre. The director stuck too closely to the formula and didn't seek to expand or contract his vision within the genre like Anthony Mann did with the Western, or Don Seigal did with the prison movie. I enjoyed it immensely. It did what it was supposed to do well, exactly as was expected. That was its only flaw.
It got worried and agitated at all the right sports, laughed when I needed to relief the tension, excited at learning something that was obvious but seemed like a private insight. It did all you could expect and did it extremely well it just didn't
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Luis Royo add anything new. In other words I wanted to love the movie, but instead I only liked it a lot. That's the weakness of the Japanese dog movies.
Like the rest of America I'm stoked about the Vice Presidential debate tonight. Sarah Palin has become the funniest TV character in decades. This is like the ultimate reality show comedy.
Every day she seems to top herself. I really don't know how she does it, how she keeps coming up with these great lines!
Yesterday was so totally cool when she accused Kate Couric of being unethical!! And she made it even funnier by claiming she knows that "pop quizzes" and reporting what a candidate says is unethical based on her community college degree in journalism!
She's a riot!
She nearly blew it with her commiserating about how "Joe Six Pack" she was by then pointing out how she had lost 20k in the market melt down . . . she seemed to think that everybody in America lost at least that much . . . sort of ignoring that all the people on minimum wage don't earn 20k in a year. I got the point of the joke but I thought it fell flat. I was sort of hoping she'd try and recover by giving us a flute solo but no such luck.
I do have to question the sanity of anyone who thinks this awesome comedienne could actually be in charge of anything more than a TV production house. I mean I think its clever that she screwed over the people in Alaska by charging them for transportation from her house to her house, and brilliant to charge them a per diem for sleeping in her own house. That's the kind of creative accounting that TV producers live by. But to be in actual charge of a whole lot of people? I keep thinking about RoseAnne. Maybe Palin could show us her private tattoos tonight.
I hope Sarah doesn't ket me down tonight.
I was seriously disappointed in Obama. He gave a good speech from the Senate floor. Pointing out the greed and government ineptitude that led to the stock market going off (it still has not crashed). He decried everything that needed decrying but he voted for it anyway. We're still giving rich lying stealing bastards our money.
That's not right.

Posted by David at 11:22 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Laura Laine Felt like a much not good day yesterday. Nothing changed much in the world. It just insisted on staying the same.
We did get two free bikes yesterday.
A poor peoples free service in this town for folks to give stuff away.
I like the idea but I figured it would mostly be worthless junk that wasn't worth paying a junk man to haul away.
I was right.
The bikes are an old Raleigh 12 speed (that they thought was a mountain bike because it had wide tires) and some K-Mart brand I can't identify. The names supposed to sound Italian but it isn't: Barratta . . . which to me looks like they just swapped the two e's in
Click images for desktop size: "Zombie" by Unknown barrette for a's.
They've been sitting outside for a few years; lots of rust, lots of loose cables. Sadly the brakes are those weird Raleigh design that you can't easily swap out for something decent, the gear shifts don't work but I should be able to get one of them unsafe and moving.
From then on its sandpaper and steel wool to clean it up and lots of grease and oil. Not a whole lot of fun but no misery either.
I went to the dog food store yesterday and did my massive comparison of brands. The clerks must have thought I was nuts. I was taking notes, comparing and ciphering and then didn't buy anything.
I still won't buy any of the foods that were killing dogs a couple of years ago. Science Diet in particular. Charging premium prices for food and then going all the way to China to get the cheapest
Click images for desktop size: "Ancient Japanese Art" by Unknown possible ingredients smacks of deceit to me. Its a Hartz or a Purina style move. Wasn't that the main reason for going to premium foods in the first place? To avoid that sort of callous skullduggery?
I also bear in mind what a few vets told me: That in terms of quality and nutrition cheap old Kennel Ration was better than almost all of the premium canned foods.
Here Candide, which we used to feed goes for 55 bucks for 40 pounds. That lasts us about two weeks.
We switched over to the food stores custom brand because it compared almost exactly to Candide and sold for $35 for 30 pounds. A small savings but a real savings.
The other thing about their custom food was that it had no beef, wheat or wheat products - things the little blind dog was allergic to. I checked over every food they sold that I consider safe (meaning there was no record of the food ever killing any animals) and discovered that their custom made food with wheat and beef had almost the same nutritional value as Candide and Wellness!
It sells for $25 for 40 pounds. Rah!
This, of course means, we can afford to buy more cookies and treats for the dogs . . .
We're picking up some today.
Also yesterday, got the bill from Sears for the washer and dryer. There was none of the promised credit on the bill . . .
Had to call them. They swore it would be on there on the next bill. I still have to write to them. First email then snail mail.
Wonderful thing the internet. It makes complaining almost instantaneous and much easier to ignore.
I had to do the same thing with the State yesterday. They actually have a page on their web site to complain about them hijacking your bank account! Its the third radio button on the options!
I doubt if it will do nay good. They're still going to swipe all and any money that goes into my bank account but, if I win, they'll owe me!
Through all of this I've been thinking about a classic of American literature, Kenneth Patchen's "The Journal Of Albion Moonlight". Great, great book, where Patchen attempts to explain America and Americans in all their forms and visions.
I couldn't recall his attitude about thieving governments but I'm sure its in there.

Posted by David at 10:27 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Pin Up Art" by JW McGinnis Still upset about the banks dumping my accounts and giving it to the state.
I still don't think I'm a fault here. It maybe legal but I feel like a victim. I'm stunned that the bank nor the state ever made any effort to contact me. They just took the money. Out of the blue.
I'm looking for someone to blame.
I'd like to blame the bank. Part of it. The charge to loot my account for 40 bucks was $100.00. Now, under the best of circumstances that seems a touch excessive. I'm sure the exorbitant fee is somewhere in one of those small print pamphlets they hand you.
If the state gives them the go ahead I guess they have to hand over the cash . . .
The state wanted their money. When I asked why someone hadn't contacted me they said they didn't have to. It was in the papers I signed for my medical stuff.
It probably was. I might even have read it.

Click images for desktop size: "Grass" by Unknown I keep wondering how a whole state got so desperate for money that they'd go to such extravagant lengths, potentially wrecking lives. I mean, this hurts me but its survivable. What if that were my rent money or the money for a kids operation. I can dispute the charge and get the money back. I give the woman I spoke to credit. She worked hard not to sound smug when she told me the process would take about two years . . .
I keep wondering why my 300 buck maybe debt for subsidized drugs was worth these steps and I keep coming back to Bush and all his tax cuts for the rich. Trickle down doesn't work. The state going to get its money and they're going to get it from the vulnerable, the poor.
Bush is going to give the rich $700 billion bucks because they used all the money he's already given them and blew it. I read somewhere that that's $1,600 for every person in the US. Rah! Could we maybe give three hundred bucks of that to the state so I can get my drugs?
I resent the fact that this money will be used by the investment banks to get themselves richer. There'll be nothing for the people, just for the rich minority.
I have to stop thinking about this. It just depresses me in so many ways. Personally and for my world view.
Getting depressed doesn't do much for anybody except for the rich who like poor people to be too depressed to do much about anything.
I called a couple of high schools and left my number inquiring about being a volunteer coach. I'm not pursuing the first school. Impressions, you see. I have value. If they can't see it then they never will, even if I canoodle them into taking me on staff I'll be the clip board carrier, the xerox boy, or the film indexer.
Those are all important jobs. I have talent greater than that.

Click images for desktop size: "Green Tea" by Michael Puckaz I'm going to keep looking. There's a lot I can do and want to do. I can't drive anymore so that limits me. With my ebike I've got a 10 mile radius I can cover. I look hard enough I'll find something that will work. Every other place I've volunteered in the last 5 years has been able to work around my inability to drive. No one ever indicated it was a big hassle. I wouldn't expect it to be here either.
Looking for work for money and looking for something to do where I can give what I do best for no money. I should be busier.
One bright thing. Its minor but it brings me small pleasure. When my hard drive died I lost my Shonen Knife music collection. I've managed to get some of it back.
A lot of people don't know about Shonen Knife. A lot of people voted for Bush . . . Shonen Knife was one of Kurt Cobain's favorite bands. He requested them and got them to open up for Nirvana on two tours! Red Kross and Sonic Youth have both recorded songs as tributes to them!
More astonishing, to me anyway, is that Shonen Knife, the band, is over 25 years old! They started out as "The Osaka Ramones"!
The got better. At their best they combine that J-Pop bubble gum vitality with a driving pink guitar sound. Naoko Yamano, the guitarist, has the best right hand I've heard in years. She plays with a speed that rivals Johnny Ramone's.
Interestingly she plays often with a pure clean tube sound, where the normal thing today is to take the speed and distort it to give it crunch and drive. Atsuko, Naoko's sister, is the drummer. She keeps the beat.
Click images for desktop size: "Surf" by Unknown She's not as maniacal as I usually like drummers but she keeps a thudding pound going and does nicely on the light frill work.
Their cover of the Monkee's "Daydream Believer" is a nice intro into their poppier sound. It has exuberance and I still like the goofy phonetic english.
In their more "mature" stuff like "Tower Of The Sun" they show a graceful move into more serious modes. I think I prefer the total trash of their classic ode to gooniness "Banana Chips". Long live SHONEN KNIFE!
I'm taking my bike out today to check out dog foods. I need our dogs to have the best possible nourishment. I also need to save money. When the little blind dog was alive we had to be ultra-cautious about foods allowed in the house. He had so many allergies. Now the remaining trio only know they like food! Candide was killer expensive and we finally managed to find a replacement that was about 20% cheaper but still offered all the nutrients and was hypoallergenic! Now, my quest, is to find the nutrients only and save money. I really do miss the company that custom made my dog food in my old state. They even delivered!
Oh, some people will be pleased that my puppy's site has been updated. I'm used to the kids dunning us about it. Some of them want it updated 3 times a day . . . but this time even ADULTS were bugging me!
It had to be done. Its more difficult lately. I didn't even take the pictures. Its not that I'm uninspired but, well, I just miss the little blind dog a lot. Its harder to have reportable adventures without him around.

Posted by David at 10:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "DNA" by Krabban Still sick. The infection is going down well enough to avoid a trip to the doctors. Pricey things: doctors. Pricey things: Meds.
My friend doesn't know how to tell a joke . . .
We we're talking about how the giant dog sometimes feels lost. My puppy is my dog and the gentle dog is my friend's. Both dogs are comfortable in the relationship, comfortable enough to share time with each of us.
The giant dog is insecure. He's special to us but that's not enough for him. Like an acne scarred teen he wants to be the most special in the world to someone. He searches and interferes and often goes for bad attention if for any scant second he feels he's been forgotten.
He's silly enough and goofy enough not to become morbid about it. He also loves the other two and would be lost without them.
So we were talking about the giant dog's desperate need for a codependent relationship. My friend thought it was funny to say that we would have to find a home for the giant dog where he could be lavished with the attention he craves.
I didn't realize she was joking and said something about he'd have to go with me if that time ever came. The giant dog looks to me as pack leader. He sometimes feels the instinctive need to challenge me and is relieved when he loses. (He has issues with his instincts to be in charge and his natural goofy disposition and his problem with being large enough to reach any shelf in any house.)
This prompted my friend to joke that I was in love with the giant dog. Which is probably true enough in its way. She thought the joke funny enough to email my puppy's aunt. She left out the background and simply wrote that we had to find a new home for the giant dog . . . My puppy's aunt, being a kind and sweet pro-active sort, wrote back immediately about her search for a new home for the giant dog!
And then I remembered that all the way through high school and college at least 80% of the fist fights and 70% of the :feuds" all started because of a joke that someone didn't get.
Here I'm sure my friend didn't understand that other people might not realize that the giant dog could never live without us or we without him.
My friend doesn't know how to tell a joke . . .
This is day four of the great Sears ransom story . . . They didn't show up yesterday. I got a call about mid-day telling me that it would have to be rescheduled till today.
I pointed the obvious things out. I hate having to core dump on poor employees who empathize but are powerless.
The saga continues. What makes it bearable is that the new washer and dryer work well . . . so far.
We're getting Vonage here. Cutting monthly expenses to the bone while, hopefully, not noticing much of a change to our Spartan lifestyle.

Click images for desktop size: "1960 Corvette" We got a cool deal on the Vonage. I resent that they still use hard MAC coded phone modems and the world's cruddiest routers, but the deal had the router for only 9 bucks, one month free and no activation fee.
I was pretty happy with Vonage before. Happy is the wrong word. It worked okay and was only occasionally annoying and sporadically infuriating. I guess that counts as happy in the world of telecommunications. It is cheap.
To celebrate the savings we spent the money on a new wireless router. It wouldn't have started to cover the price of doctors and penicillin (what a country . . .) My old linksys was giving me fits. I could keep it going with so alchemy and constant reflashing. It was serviceable enough. Got a linksys draft-N router. We don't have any draft-N wifi cards in any of the computers (maybe my friends work laptop?) so don't notice any speed bumps. Haven't tried to see if there's any improvement in distance reception. It hasn't crashed yet.
I was amazed with myself. I'd been nursing the old router along for so long that it took me less than 5 minutes to get the new one up and in place with the same WEP security and my own personal configuration quirks. In the Windows world that makes me an expert I guess . . . doing something meaningless so many times that you can cope with the inane requirements . . .
I'm glad its working well. I would have missed a lot of laughs without the internet. The colossal story about Bush suddenly becoming a hard core socialist. How uncanny. The government is taking over a company and "loaning" them $85 BILLION dollars! I'd guess that's as large as the gross national product of 2/3rds of the world's nations.
So much for the lie about deregulating banks and insurance companies . . . I like that they are charging AIG interest on the 85 billion. Calculating this in my head i think that's about 1 and 1/2 billion a month in SIMPLE interest. What bank charges simple interest? I haven't read any other terms of the loan, just Bush being hard core about charging them interest.
I do wonder where we're getting the money to loan them. And, of course, how the heck we can ever expect a company that is so mismanaged will ever be able to come up with an extra 1.5 billion a month to pay the interest.
I'm a bit stunned that the balm that Bush puts on this outrageous "loan" is that AIG was simply going to default on all those little annuities and money market accounts that little people had rested their entire life's futures to. Why are there never any jail sentences for bankers stealing from the people?

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Unknown Its stuff like this that made Dillinger and Bonnie & Clyde national heroes. They robbed banks. Banks have always been the enemies of the people. Its almost a natural thing. Banks hate people. Its fair to hate them back.
I still thank that bankers should face jail sentences when behaving this badly.
It also amusing that McCain and his cronies have spent their careers dismantling the protections that Franklin Roosevelt (in retrospect he may have been our greatest president) slaved so hard to build to protect us from predatory banks. And now they claim to have a solution to fix what they broke. Sadly, none of the fixes seem to involve admitting that letting banks feast on each other was not the smartest thing going.
I always like it when a guy who inherited a hundred million dollar fortunes pretends to understand my problems . . .
I have to admit though that I am impressed by the fact that no matter how many lies McCain & co. get caught in they just bray the lies louder and watch as their poll numbers shoot up.
Same way that Palin keeps nasally twanging about how she wants a transparent government but then decides that her own legislature should be ignored. The "troopergate" mess reminds me of Spiro Agnew. Nixon was so corrupt and started McCain's lying to procure office mess. Nixon was such a corrupt jerk that people forget that Agnew, his vice president was even more corrupt. He plead nolo contendre to taking bribes when he was Governor of Maryland and was forced out of office. Nixon was able to pardon him to keep him out of prison.
Now, Palin is breaking the law and contradicting herself (lying is an apt word here) about why she fired a good public servant, contradicting herself about her honesty and willingness to cooperate with her own government.
So now the campaign just spouts out more irrational lies but I notice that they keep gaining in the polls.
This stuff would make me ashamed of being American but the fact that the American people appear to demand poverty and a banana style group of despots just makes me laugh. I only weep for the children.

Posted by David at 10:57 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Dave Nestler I watched the Monday Night game. What a whacky mess.
DeSean Jackson made the most bone head play of the century! He caught a sure touchdown pass, an elegant play, but as he ran towards the end zone he began to celebrate and threw the ball away . . . compounding it was that none of the Cowboys figured it out so they never picked the ball up.
I didn't like DeSean as a player when he played for Cal when he would always bum rap USC. I'm not above maliciously enjoying his faux paux in the NFL.
Watching the game I was, as usual, impressed with Brian Westbrook. It bewilders me why Sean Payton (HC of the New Orleans Saints) doesn't use Reggie Bush in the same way. Maybe with Deuce McAllister back in the line up he'll start to exploit Bush's talents. Maybe not when you consider that horrific score against the bad Redskins team.

There's going to be another dog walk at the big mansion estate. When we look at the pictures of the lat big dog walk there its pretty apparent that our guys had the time of their lives.
My puppy was a bit more reserved. She takes her self anointed jobs too seriously to ever just let go when there are strangers about but even she had fun running up ahead and then running back to make sure I was okay.
I'll miss the little blind dog being with us. His trying to bully the great danes was pretty heart warming. Even he had a great time on that day.
I'm pleased. The Dog Walk will be the Sunday of the weekend we're going to see Alkaline Trio. It should be a splendid weekend.
Some of you have noticed the funny goings on with the footer of this page . . . This worries me; that anyone is looking, I mean.
I have a free traffic counter from Sitemeter. It only counts the unique visitor who come to look at the front page. I like that. If you come to the movie library or something else it lets you be. Then it
Click images for desktop size: "Back By the Full Moon" by Unknown sends me an email once a week telling me a lot of useless stuff but loaded with groovy numbers!
Like this page gets about 100 hits a day. Which to me seems like a lot. In the internet its something less than insignificant.
The official unique visitor count is closer to 800 a day but that includes spammers, robots etc. Which means the number is just goony and has nothing to do with anything.
I like the data. Seventy Five percent from bookmarks, eighteen percent from search engines. That kind of junk.
Its all pretty meaningless. I never intend to "monetize" the site. I don't want to become a "professional blogger". I'm not ever putting up ads and I'm not writing "reviews" for anything I don't care about. So all the numbers are nothing except for my personal amusement.
I also like the way the numbers look down there. They balance the look of the footer which does it job of saying this is the end of the page very nicely.
Anyway Sitemeter ended up doing a revamp that bought it more in line with Google Analytics. That was another service I tried and didn't care about.
That end of stuff didn't bother me very much except they also changed things enough to change the look of the entire counter. I disliked it so I removed it.
I spent about 15 minutes experimenting with other counter, including one provided by the hosting service. I didn't like any of them and decided that the footer looked just fine with no counter in it.
Then Sitemeter sent out a bulk email. I guess I wasn't the only one with complaints, although I suspect they other complaints were more serious than my fashion worries.
So for now the counter is back there . . . for now.

I have to wait for the third day for Sears to come and pick the old washing machines - between 7 a.m.
Click images for desktop size: "City of the Gods" by Unknown and 5 p.m. . . . and we had to pay for the right to wait . . .
I amusing myself trying to figure out what logic the oil companies used to jack up prizes when the price of oil has fallen. Something about future oil production maybe less so we have to pay more now because we will have to pay even more later . . . seriously, why aren't these geeks regulated?
As the stock market continues to crash I note that this is the worst hit the economy has taken since 9/11. I find it fascinating that it took Bush 7 years to equal the terrorists body count of Americans. The terrorists killed one of my best friends. Bush has killed two of my friends, not trying to track down my best friends killer but in a war for his own ego. Its taken Bush 7 years to cripple the country in the same way the terrorists did in 30 horrifying minutes.
And my fellow Americans are going to elect Palin and McCain so that the terrorism and the carnage can continue.

Posted by David at 11:01 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Unknown" by Alma Parens I don't care much for cats.
I don't hate them. I've even had to live with them for some years.
I don't like them. I don't want them exterminated but I don't like them as a group.
As individuals I seem to like the cats that are least feline.
I don't know why. I don't think cats are worth thinking about that much. There are a lot of things I dislike more than cats. I can't think of many off hand but I instinctively know there are things I dislike a lot more than cats.
There is an animal I hate. I hate bugs.
I hate them because they complete the circle of the food chain. I think bugs are higher in the food chain than we are.
Bugs eat people.
From mosquitos to maggots. Bugs eat people.
And mainly i hate fleas. I hate them for being small and fast. I hate their efficiency. A perfect size and shape for eating, escaping and giving birth to millions of children.
I hate them under a microscope.
I hate them because they eat dogs.
They make dogs suffer. If a person treated a dog like a flea treats a dog I would strike them down.

Click images for desktop size: "X-Men" by Marvel Comics I would smite them.
As it is the only weapons I have are chemicals and combs and loving patience. Its scarcely enough. I hate the chemicals, once again just from instinct. I hate the chemicals most because its the only weapon I have. Pyrethrins - comes from chrysanthemums, so its like almost nearly practically organic chemical junk.
All three dogs are plagued and they still look at me with adoring eyes and smiling faces. They suffer and they still laugh and play.
I love dogs. I love that they offer up an unaffected love. A dog can need a person. A person needs his/her dog.
It works out well. Except for fleas impinging into that tiny macrocosm.
I have a lot to do today. I have to get ready for the delivery guys.
My friend got a new washer and dryer. Can't afford them. Need them. Old ones nearly 20 years old. The dryer is ripping holes in clothes. The washer is scarcely getting things clean, more like it gets them wet. Leaves them soapy.
They were on sale. Got them on the plastic, the never never, the "dollar down and a dollar a week".
Debt.
With the price of gas and the price at the laundromats this will probably be a lot cheaper and a lot more convenient.
I haven't seen them. Just pictures on the web. Nothing fancy. Just old fashioned white things. Nothing to be happy about, nothing to be sad about, except the debt. But we need them.
The house is small. Have to get ready for them. Removed the bannister from the stairs so the machines could get down them.
Have to move the stove out of the kitchen so the machines can get in the doors. Had to remove the door from the basement so that there'd be enough clearance to get the new in and the old out.
Had to uninstall the old ones. Odd side effect there. The valve to shut off the water to the washer doesn't seem to work! So had to turn off the water at the main!
So I'm sitting here unshowered and stinking. Unshaved and thinking about fleas and how much I have to do get get ready for the new machines.
I also have to clean up the water from the old machines so the new machines won't start their new existence in the damp.
So I'm just sitting and stinking and thinking instead of doing.
Thinking about USC football and the game this Saturday. Hoping the good guys don't lose.
Thinking about my blood levels. I've been hitting super lows for the glucose. This is strange. Hitting those hypoglycemic low numbers in the low three's and high two's. Not eating right, I guess. Makes my hands do that lock up painful cramping thing.
I wonder why. Not wondering enough to do anything about it. Just like to wonder instead of moving and doing what I need to do, I guess.
Oh, I got two free tracks from iTunes. A certificate for something or other. Couldn't think of anything I wanted so used the "Genius" bar in iTunes 8. It was pretty trippy. Nearly fun.

Click images for desktop size: "Tower Of Babel" by Unknown Didn't improve my opinion of Apple though. iTunes 8 is still too screwed up. Keep finding things they've decided to omit, like id3 tag conversion. Wonder why.
Since iTunes is the engine behind iPods, iPhones and their big push for Microsoft style domination you'd think they'd take some care with it. At least explain the bizarre changes and the peculiar subtractions. You'd think they'd at least make it as bug free as possible.
I guess there's no need to explain when it becomes apparent the reasons were greed and laziness and a pretty solid disregard for the consumers.
Apple is probably making huge donations to McCain/Palin . . .
I going to go play with my puppies. Puppies manage to enforce only one mood, and its a good one.
Then I'll do what needs doing.
Honest.

Posted by David at 10:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Styling Spaceport" by Unknown It was a beautiful day here yesterday. More so because I go my ebike up, fixed and running. It needs tuning and oiling but its running. Its beautiful. I took it around a long block and it felt as peaceful as my first solo drive in my first car.
When I came back I played with my dogs. We had our usual fun. What was notable is that for the first time since the move my puppy mouthed me three or four times. She hadn't done that since we moved nearly a year ago.
That pleased me and made my heart a little larger.
Then watched some football.
The most notable thing that I see is my old saw still proves true. 1A schools that insist on scheduling 1AA schools should be knocked out of consideration for BCS bowl consideration.
Ohio State has a long history of running one of the lowest regarded academic programs in the country. They train professional football players and seem to have little concern for them beyond winning on the field.
This is not a knock on the players at OSU. They are a talented group with much to be proud of. It is a knock on the coaching staff and the athletic department and the athletics department's PR group.
That OSU goes to back to back BCS Championship Bowls and is an absolute disgrace in each of them in a damning testimony that the only thing working well in their administration is their PR department that hustles hard to impress the voters.
When they made the deal to play USC a simple check of the calendar let them know that this would be the weakest time to schedule the Trojans. The scheduling was all to their advantage. That's the Big Ten way.
I can hear them snickering to themselves calculating how many starters they'd have returning and how many freshmen their seniors would be facing.
Then to insure success they schedule a 1AA opponent as an opening day "scrimmage". Then they follow
Click images for desktop size: "Dragon Lady" by Unknown that with a slightly more difficult opponent: a lightly regarded school from the lightly regarded MAC. You know that they had it all figured out; two in effect "exhibition games" would have them all tuned and ready to destroy the Trojans.
Except the kids from the little school rose up and put on a dazzling display. Its too bad they couldn't keep playing over their heads well into the fourth quarter. It was an impressive display that needs applause.
Needless to say this is not in the best interest of OSU players when it comes to preparing them for life, ecen if their life continues to be in football after leaving school.
To be the best you have to play the best. To improve you have to play someone better than yourself.
The Buckeyes at least got a wake up call. I figure they'll be ready for the Trojans. I hope so.
I also note that over priced, over hyped and over weight Charlie Weiss has done a great job for the Fighting Irish. Last year he made them the worst team in the country. This year he appears to have led them to the very brink of mediocrity.
Chuck Long and San Diego State made an impressive try against them on the road. It came down to some pretty pathetic officiating (It still think the football crossed the plane on the fumble instead of a touchdown that turned the game around).
I want Notre Dame back in the elite so I can fool good about hating them!
The NFL goes full swing today. I plan to watch every game I can get here. Yesterdays college schedule was supposedly not very interesting. I thought it was great and fascinating. East Carolina looking deadly. The SEC getting beaten again when they go outside the conference. Georgia trying the OSU scheduling mode to try and win the National Championship. Stanford standing proud and testy. So many stories, so many kids playing their hearts out.
Its a wonderful time of the year.
On Monday I'm making a hard pitch to volunteer at a local high school. I'm going to flash the credentials and everything.

Posted by David at 9:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Sacred Fire" by Michael A Parkes A lot happened yesterday. A lot.
I'm not feeling any better. I'm not feeling any worse. I wonder if this is just the new level I'm at. Living on ibuprofen.
I got told I was getting snappish and sharp. I don't feel snappish or sharp. I feel slow and dull and electric.
My mood wasn't helped when it looks like my puppy has developed a yeast infection. I take that as a personal failure, a lack of perfection. Yeah, I'm an imperfect dog god.
Those sort of things always hit me hard. For some reason this discovery yesterday near devastated me. She'll be fine so long as I remember who I am. "Remember who I am."
I saw a Korean film the other day: "A Man Who Was Superman". Its a fictionalized account of a true story. There was a kid who survived a bullet to the head, a
Click images for desktop size: "Ecstasy" by Maxfield Parrish Korean army bullet during the war. He lived with the bullet still stuck in the middle of his brain. The most visible effect of this was epileptic seizures.
He's married with a beautiful daughter. There's a car accident. A group of bystanders stand around and watch and do nothing. He's thrown clear of the wreck but when he tries to save his family he has a seizure and can only lie and twitch in the street. He has to watch his wife and child burn to death. Worse is that his seizure doesn't cause him to black out. Even worse is the large crowd of people who merely watch this grim tableau like it was just another HD television broadcast.

Click images for desktop size: "Old Dusty VW Right From The 70's" by Sweibel He has a psychotic break. He believes he's Superman. He has lost his super powers because the "bald villain" buried a pice of kryptonite in his head.
As Superman he is incredibly mad and incredibly happy. He became a fixture in Seoul, well known because he spent his days helping others. Always helping others. From helping people across the street to lying in wait to catch a pedophile, to chasing and catching purse snatchers.
A jaded TV reporter is doing a human interest story about him. They fall in love, not sexual love, but the deep love that comes with pure friendship that is sometimes possible between a man and a woman, even if most films like to ignore or trivialize it.
The reporter asks Superman why he spends all of his time helping people. He says its important so that he can remember who he is. "So I can remember who I am."
Its a pretty wonderful film. It gives rushes of excitement and nice little touches of cgi where we get to see the monsters that Superman is fighting on our behalf.
What makes the movie wonderful, compelling and fantastic is the performance of Jeong-min Hwang. He works hard and makes you fall in love with him. Its near impossible not to get sucked into his story, to feel for him the same way you'd feel for anyone else you loved.
The film has all sort of structural issues but because of Jeong-min Hwang this is the best film I've seen this year and maybe the best since "The King And The Clowns".
Its a film about being human. It will have an impact on your life and your perception of life. Its an entertainment that becomes art.
I also found something out about a song I covered in at least three bands. I think everyone covered it. I think when we first learned it we got it from the Rolling Stones or something. It turns out it was from a two hit British Wonder.
Chris Farlowe's "Out Of Time" was twice a number one hit, in the sixties and the 70's.
Nothing else. Its just a great song. I think we did a better version of it than the original. I think I remember the Ramones doing it at the Hollywood Palladium. Its just a great song that still resonates.
I watched the Giants-Redskins game on TV. What a boring mess. I mean the score was 16-7 at the half and that's the way it ended.
Some of the New York writers are actually calling the game a dominant showing by the Giants! I can't figure out if these guys are morons or just hometown fans.
The Redskins offense was a huge pile of garbage. A decent 1A team could have dominated that offense.
Click images for desktop size: "Arcadian Landscape" by Jan Van Huysum It was a pathetic showing. During the first half the Washington defense was almost as discombobulated as their offense yet this dominating offense could only rack up 16 points . . . and no touchdowns after the opening drive where it really looked like the Redskins weren't too certain the game had actually started. They looked like they were only scrimmaging.
After the Redskins' D woke up in the second half they really shut down the Giants. The Giants looked foolish and the Redskins actually had a chance to win with 3 minutes left.
If that was a dominating performance than the game is dead. There could only be a couple worse ways to open the season.
Then I tried to watch McCain's speech. I couldn't cope with the old man rambling or the lies, the viscous slimy lies. When he talked about his father bombing Hanoi even though he knew McCain was there making propaganda videos for the enemy his spin on it was that his father put country first and family second. All I could think was that he was hoping that he'd kill his son, which is an evil thing to think. It was my reflex thought. I had to stop watching.
Now I think I must vote for Obama. I hate McCain for this. Not only do I find him more and more contemptible, sick and filled with hate for people, conniving and creepy sneaky but now I have to terrified if he and his hate monger pit bull pal Palin should ever get power they will destroy the world.
I did get my ebike fixed. I just have to make a few time consuming adjustments today and then I'll be mobile again! Of course summer's almost done . . .

Posted by David at 10:27 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Over The Rainbows" by SW4 Its been a year since my puppy and I made our big move.
Some of it hasn't been easy. here's been a lot of fear, financial hassles, rage and growing and adaption pain. We were happy where we were. Not completely but with our foster dogs, our local friends and non-crazy neighbors we were happy.
We knew the world and it knew us.
We're happier now. With all the grief and the grief yet to come it was the right unregretable thing to do.
My puppy has grown into a beautiful dog. She continues to delight and amaze me. She's become her own person but the two of us have only gotten closer.
For some reason this has got me thinking about the last dinosaur.
There had to be a last one.
The dinosaurs didn't go extinct on a Tuesday at 3:00 o'clock.
I guess they actually did, because when the last one died that was it.
But as long as that one was left walking around the species, the race continued. Not with much hope but one dinosaur refused to die and held on to life as long as he or she could.

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Yoshitaka Amano With all their digging around in old bones those scientist guys still don't understand much about dinosaurs. They don't even know if they could think, let alone what they might think about. They don't know what kind of dinosaur was the last one or if it was male, female, young or elderly and wise, whether it was spotted or green or brown or loved or in love.
I think that if a dinosaur was unique enough to survive the holocaust that killed the others it may not have been unique in all things but it had to have some things in it that were unique. It had to be gifted in some things. Or else why would it survive when everyone else was dead, gone.
I don't think I have ever felt lonely. At least not like other people describe loneliness to me. I have felt alone.
I'm sure the last dinosaur had to feel alone. I don't think it was a terrifying sense of being alone. If it was the dinosaur could have chucked himself into a tar pit or one of those bogs like those guys were always finding themselves snagged in.
He wouldn't do that. Why survive only to die?
It had to be jarring to wake up that morning and realize that he was alone, completely alone. To know there were no others. No others.
It had to miss his friends and family. Those baby dinosaurs he cavorted with when he was a baby, maybe she missed the babies she had raised and fed and taught to hunt and forage for food.
If it were me I would miss my enemies the most. Friends and family give us love, support and companionship. They give us a reason to live.
Our enemies give us a purpose for life. We have to survive our enemies. We have to struggle to fight them and protect our loved ones. The relief of having our enemies suddenly vanish would be out weighed by the atrophy that comes with no struggle. Life is a struggle. Without the struggle it isn't life, its only existence. Who needs to merely exist?
As the last dinosaur wandered his swamp or his plain or his desert did he look up at a dust filled sky and remember when the sun used to bake his bones and remembering did he let out a mighty roar and then stand dead still waiting for a response, a sound he could convince himself was a reply.
Did he do this everyday for as long as he lived, knowing that there would never be a response, but he felt obligated, or he needed to check to calm himself.
I bet he stood in front of a drying pond and looked at his dino reflection in a puddle and thumped his tail rapidly on the ground while he danced his little mating dance. He remembered some happy times that always reside even in the most brutish brain.
When he noticed the little scurrying mammals (who would have gotten more brazen with the paucity of dinosaurs to stomp on them) after he tried to eat them did he try to befriend them, play with them? Did he try to form an uneasy alliance of the huge with the small? Some symbiotic relationship?
Could some miniscule monkey that evolved into man have raised up to survive the evolution wars because he had a giant dinosaur to act as his muscle?
I think the last dinosaur would tire of that rapidly. He would want to stand with the other giants, he would remember that, remember when he was many. He would dream of contentment and decide that his survival was more to him than being a servant.
I think about the time when the last dinosaur would heave his bulk into the mud and before he became oil, or bones for grave robbers to ponder over he'd have time to consider his life. I'm sure his mind drifted back to those times he lived in and he remembered and smiled.
He didn't pity himself.
Click images for desktop size: "Burning Sun" by Unknown He didn't think of how lucky he was to have been the last of his kind, how he managed to live past his time and get to see the birth of a new world. a world that was the same as his but so so different.
I hope in his last moments he looked out across the plain and saw gray sunlight playing across the backs of creatures he had never before need to acknowledge and before he closed his eyes the final time I hope he decided that it was time for him to go. He had done all that a dinosaur could have done or could have wanted to do.
Then he could cry himself to sleep as he mourned the passing of his mighty race knowing that being a legend, passing into myth was not as good as living.

I like to think about dinosaurs.

My friend took the gentle dog to work with her today. I'm glad for him. It feels lonely without him. The other two didn't help dispel that feeling. The giant dog stood in the window yapping! My puppy howled.
They're sleeping now.
My friend has a week off next week. Six days anyway. Actually 3 days, cause 3 of the days are the weekend and Labor Day.
It will be my birthday.
We're too broke to do anything special but it will be special anyway.

Posted by David at 10:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Click images for desktop size: "Attack On A Wagon Train" by Russel Charles Marion My ebike is driving me crazy.
Late Tuesday I started it up and it ran beautifully. I rode it around, filled up the tires and was mildly excited.
Wednesday I turned it on and it sat there.
I was dispirited. Tinkered with it a little.
Nada. I figure that somewhere in there is a wire that is heating up when its running and then separating and shorting. Except I can't find it. Its more confounding as the lights all work fine like this. That should help narrow down where the glitch is but it doesn't seem to.
Then this morning when I was out with the dogs I decided to turn it on just to aggravate myself. It fired up right away. I turned it off for a second and then flipped it back on and of course it was as dead as Dicken's coffin nails.
With the new ebikes floating around $2,500 there's a bit at stake getting this thing going.
My vision is fading. My left eye is only useful for giving me binocular vision. There's no way I could pass a driving eye test.
I need to get my little bike running.
I was so insane I decided that the dogs were sabotaging the bike. They figured that more biking time for me means less walking time for them . . .

Click images for desktop size: "Audrey Hepburn"
My friend finally and truly has finally finished her year end stuff.
I don't quite accept that either but it seems to be true.
She even took off yesterday (if working from home can truly be called taking the day off) to go to get her physical.
She's lost weight. 104 pounds (7 st 6) is not cool for someone 5' 4". But that's the only negative. Weight can be put back on.
To celebrate the clean bill of health and the end of the marathon trudge through financial records we had a mini-celebration. I barbecued some fish.
This went pretty badly. I figured sole and cod would be very nice.
This was a mistake.
Cod and sole do not grill well. They crumble up nicely and fall through the slits . . . I never knew that before. I suddenly remembered that the only fish I'd barbecued before were swordfish and shark. I suddenly knew why.
I'd rubbed it down with alder wood salt (that my puppy's chef relative got for us), margarine and key limes. It smelled good at least. In trying to save it I dropped a big chunk on the ground. I think it hit the ground. I couldn't swear to it. Three dogs were on it faster than I could move my eyes.
It ended up making a very interesting fish medley. Not to bad at all, really. I think the dogs liked it a lot more than we did.
I got an email this morning asking me about coaching. I called just now. They want me to pay them six hundred bucks for the season . . . I think its a serious obligation to give to children, to help them to have a life greater than your dreams of the future. But paying to do it?
This guy explained that its to cover my expenses, buses league fees etc.
I don't feel its a scam but I can't afford it and if I could I'd donate the money for footballs or some other equipment. My time isn't long enough to pay to give that little time away. Maybe if I wanted to learn about coaching or get something on the CV (resume) but I think I've got enough rep left to not have to pay to coach.
And that's sort of how its going right now. Odd cycle. Nothing terrible happening, some good too, but overwhelmed with the not so good.
That will all change if my
Click images for desktop size: "Unknown" by Unknown dog's flea stuff arrives today. I hope but its like "hope for the best but expect less". This is the final day for the shippers due date for delivery.
I'm not looking forward to fighting with them about a refund.
I got the weed whacker repaired last night so I plan to while away the day doing yard work.
Chances are pretty solid that I'll hurt myself in some minor way so that it will at least seem that life is progressing back to its normal space.
One thing that keeps life normal is that the dogs all remain incredibly happy. Yesterday we went for our usual walk but this time my friend came along. It felt very different. It was different for them for sure.
They were even happier and were totally exhausted when we got home. (Not so exhausted that they couldn't swoop down on fallen fish pieces of course.)
Of course it made no difference to my puppy. She was just pleased to get us there and back.
She's like that.

Posted by David at 10:08 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Ninja Princess" by Unknown It's hard to say which is the biggest shock: Russia and Georgia declaring war on the first day of the Olympics, George W Bush behaving like a buffoon and going to the Olympics to frolic while the world burns, or Mark Sanchez (USC Starting QB) dislocating his knee playing catch, Ohio State suspending two players for two games against AA opponents but making sure they're eligible to face USC or the fiasco/soap opera that saw retired Brett Favre end up a New York Jet. Bret Favre was always one of my favorite players. His openness and candor about his life on and off the field was praiseworthy. His brilliant performances on the field made legends no press agent would ever imagine.
When Favre retired it was at the top of his game. It left many of us in tears.
His coming out of retirement was . . . I invested so much emotion in watching him leave the game I was more irked than pleased about his 12th hour decision to come back. Then to disrupt his team to that extent . . . and now, with the Jets, he seems to have revoked one of his greatest claims. Sandy Koufax is the only other athlete at Favre's level to ever leave the game with class and dignity. I always dream about that "One more season" but the legend and memories are more burnished and glowing because Koufax left intact.
Favre has thrown in with Johnny Unitas, Joe Montana, Marcus Allen and Joe Namath as guys who moved on and played more on their reputation than their talent. Favre will have success and some failures but he's tarnished the beautiful dream. It's hard to forgive something like that.
That's disappointing but not really shocking.
Ohio State suspending players is regrettable but understandable. Who can forget Joe Paterno suspending 4 of his starters the night before the National Championship game and Penn State still went out there and thumped heavily favored Miami.
That Ohio State bent over backwards to ensure that the punishment of the players would not impact the team is disgusting. As long as the "Big Ten" and all eleven of its teams continue to place money before the development of their athletes into young men and community leaders I will continue to hold it in low regard and with the contempt I usually hold for unworthy opponents.
Yeah, I want Ohio State to face USC at full strength. I played against Ohio State 3 times. They are the biggest bunch of cry babies I ever played against. Every loss was because they got improperly flagged for an overt illegal dangerous play. Or, my favorite, their players got hypnotized by the beautiful LA weather . . . If they had to lose two starters and lost they'd be crying all over to the press about how the Trojans cheated by exploiting their lesser players begging for another chance to be humiliated in the National Title game. The school still makes big bucks the TV appearance. Why risk tens of millions of dollars for something as mundane as a young person's future?
Sadly the Big Ten, Ohio State and the NCAA don't shock anymore. This is their standard.
George W Bush continues to prove he is a selfish boor. He can take time off to fly to see the Olympics but he could only spare a "fly over" of New Orleans when the crisis there was at its worst.
I am pleased that no athletes have gone on record saying something about how the President inspired them to victory or something of that nature.
Even the President's "huh" attitude towards the tragic murder of the American tourists wasn't shocking. In fact Bush will only shock me if he ever does something intelligent, or caring or something not in keeping with a typical arrogant loser.
I don't know enough about present day Russia or Georgia to understand the how's or why's of their war. I haven't been to Russia in over 7 years and then it was a country in wild upheaval. A country demanding change.

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Clarence Holbrook Carter War is always a shock. A stunning condemnation of our status as human beings. I hope this war is about something not money or about the lies the government spreads. I doubt it, but I still hope it.

Yesterday the giant dog got a bath and a haircut . . . he still hasn't quite forgiven us. For some reason he holds me as almost solely responsible.
If I can get some more decent photographs I have a post nearly ready for my puppy's website. That will, hopefully stop people from being mad at me.
As it is I'm just waiting for the sun. And a walk with the dogs.
So far my only reaction to the Olympics has been overwhelmed by the pictures of Beijing. It appears such a fascinating city I can't really grasp or emote over the proud athletes efforts.
I'm just waiting for the track and field events.

Posted by David at 3:03 PM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Before The Storm" by Vaclav Krivnek I learned computer on Macintosh. We used them for sound controllers and digital recordings in the studio. We also used Excel on them, back when Excel was Mac only.
I got frustrated with Mac for some pretty silly reasons I don't even recall and got a 386 Windows PC. It was madness but I'd spent the money. It did a good version of a Mac especially when playing Sim City. I didn't mind Lotus 1-2-3 and Text Adventure games were an okay diversion.
PC clones really couldn't compare to the hardware that Apple churned out. But Apple stuck to that dull one button mouse. It was easier to work in Black & White on Mac. The color was sort of dreary, even compared to VGA. So I went along with Windows up through Windows 95.
I messed around with Linux. I liked it but the sound recording and editing apps left a lot to be desired. Sound was a hassle in general.
Then along came BeOs. I loved it. I had to dual boot so I could use Sound Forge in Windows. Everything else I did in BeOs and smiled.
I understand how Microsoft fan boys can happen. You spend so much time learning how to make the computer work so it will do some mundane task that you get high faluting ideas about yourself. You think you're an expert. Linux was cool for somethings, especially scripting and some light programming but BeOs, I just did my work and didn't worry about anything else. It just worked.
The built in file indexing meant I never lost another file. Every chore was easy and working was just that, working, not crashing out, not dying
Click images for desktop size: "Reveries" by Maxfield Parrish and wiping out hours of work. I even loved getting error messages. They were always an thoughtful haiku.
Microsoft got busted big time for illegally destroying BeOs. They had to pay a huge fine that they didn't even appeal.
I wandered along with BeOs for a while but with no new development it seemed pretty futile. So I switched to Windows XP. I thought it was a huge kludge joke. It basically corrected the total ineptness of the Windows ME world and was hailed as . . . the solution.
I hated it.
A fellow named Scott something or other was the huge prophet for BeOs. He was a writer and programmer. He wrote some coolness scripts for mp3's for BeOs that I adored.
I read an article he wrote lamenting the passing of BeOs and guardedly suggesting that the new Mac OSX while not as complete as BeOs came close, making up for its shortcomings with some advantages (java support for one).
I got an iMac and gradually began to accept it. For music it had improved. For graphics it was tres cool. I feel in love with it when I got my 12 inch Power Book, that still runs well today.
I never looked back. Then the iPod became a huge cash cow, then the iPhone then . . .
When I got my new iMac (mostly as a gift), it came with a Mighty Mouse. The mighty Mouse is a beautiful looking thing. Apple's first TWO button mouse. The little scroll ball is a pleasure to use . . . for a while.
For some asinine reason Apple designed the Mighty Mouse in the same over priced disposable mode as their iPod. The problem is that the little scroll ball gets clogged quickly and easily. Even constant cleaning of your hands can't prevent it. Suddenly you can't scroll anymore.
Apple knows this happens. They have a web page devoted to cleaning the little scroll ball. it relieves the issue for a few days and then its back. No scrolling.
The cleaning process isn't that easy and its too stop gap. When you search the web the solutions for cleaning the little scroll ball are insane. One guy says he gets good results by filling the mouse with denatured alcohol and then whipping it around his head to clear out the gunk!
The other modes are insane and involve a few hours of bisecting flimsy plastic parts (and praying you can reassemble them and glue them well enough to work and not look too ugly) in order to clean the little rollers.
Apple clearly knows this is an issue. They're ignoring it.
As the Mighty Mouse runs about eighty bucks shipped this hardly seems like a disposable gadget. Considering I can get a logitech that's ugly and not as comfortable but WORKS for less than 20 bucks it seems either
Click images for desktop size: "Blue Morning" by Shifted Reality ridiculous or of the same arrogance that Microsoft has shown over the years. The get what you get and shut up attitude.
I've got two Mighty Mouses (Mice??) and I swap back and forth between them and then swap to the logitech when I get too frustrated.
With Apple's refusal to come down in price, the proliferation of iPods and iPhones and the increasing shoddiness of their supposedly high end line I notice that Ubuntu is free and looking better and better.

I've been getting castigated (even by adults) for not updating my puppy's web site. It's hard. For 10 months my puppy, my little blind dog and I were a trio. We had adventures together. Real adventures that fascinated the two of them, me and the kids who read her web site. We were going to have a big adventure hunting lions at the Lion's County Safari near us when the little dog passed away.
My puppy is doing fine she's still laughing and telling me bad dog jokes but its hard for me to get the joyousness that the little kids deserve and sometimes need.
Checking the logs her website normally averages 40,000 visitors a month. Its fallen to about 25,000 right now. I'm touched that a few thousand people are still watching the little movie about the little blind dog.
I'm working on it. Honest. I have to take the pictures and get into the mood. I'll try.
My friend has still been working insane hours. The 4 days lost to the Windows crash made her miss her deadline by one day. Still, she's closer than anyone else. I miss having her around.
Tomorrow the giant dog gets bathed and clipped. He's such a mess and his coat so heavy as to defy the consumer quality clippers that he gets to go to the groomer.
Its a car ride. All by himself. He'll be so pleased until he sees where we're going.
Totally stoked to watch all the videos of USC practices. I'm shocked at how well the defense is playing and even more shocked at how good the offense looks!
So far Mark Sanchez looks like the hype that surrounded him coming out of high school was less than he deserved. The O-Line makes mistakes but they are so fast its staggering! Speed can correct a lot of mistakes. Since they're almost all freshmen and the one returning starter is on the bench the unit is becoming less of a worry to me.
Twenty two days until Virginia. I can hardly wait.
I'm holding on well. Some pain but not so bad that I can't resist loading up on pain killers. Who could ask for more than that.

Posted by David at 11:14 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Click images for desktop size: "Zach" by R Latterll The cat passed away last night at 7:25.
Earlier in the day I had her outside resting in the sun while I mowed the grass. She enjoyed it. She preened in the sunlight and stretched herself in the warmth.
The dogs were pretty peeved by this. The cat was on their favorite perch and they always get locked in when I have the lawnmower running. (My puppy watches me intently from the window, the giant dog gets up on his back feet and looks through the door window).
When I bought the cat back inside I was confused. She seemed tired but content. She purred loudly and slept comfortably.
I took her outside again for the second half of the mowing. She didn't object but didn't seem to enjoy it. She lie there pretty unresponsive. I always checked on her every few minutes. I bought her back inside when I saw that there were flies on her and she was doing nothing about it.
She took some water by hand, twitched her tail and seemed to fall asleep.
About 7 PM she lost control of her bowels. She meowed in complaint when I cleaned her up but was happy to lie back down on clean towels and cushion.
A little bit later I got a brief phone call. As I hung up the cat made a deep groan like meow. I sat on the floor beside her. She trembled for a short second and then she was gone.
I gave her some mild CPR. I waited a few minutes until I was convinced she was truly gone.
I emailed my friend to tell her. Then felt that was callous so I called her office. (She was still working on her dead line, she was until 3 AM) I told her the sad news.
Because I like almost all animals in general (except cows and bugs) I'm saddened by the cat's dying. I'm more worried about my friend.
This is the second loved one she's lost in less than two months. That's a harshness; a cruelty.
My little blind dog's presence still hangs heavily over us. Its hard to accept that he's gone. (And though he was clearly my little dog it was my friend who raised him and tended him and loved him, even if she didn't know that she was holding him for me, she felt that the little dog was hers.)
The cat loved my little blind dog. She would always work her way to get next to him. He was never too impressed with that. He'd always wake up startled to find a cat cuddled up next to him!
My puppy always gave the little guy a hard time about that. Called him a "cat lover". He always vehemently denied it.
I buried the cat by one of the little dogs favorite trails, one he would drag me through all the time.

Yesterday was busy for me in other ways.
As I mentioned I mowed the gas. It was in bad shape. We couldn't afford gas for the lawnmower so it was overgrown badly. There's over a quarter acre of grass to cut with a push mower so it gets tiring for me.
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by HK Pepnix The dogs loved it cut and played outside most of the day. When they'd come inside to check on me their muzzles were coated with green grass mush.
I called every secondary school around here. There was no one rude to me but not much interest in an unpaid assistant. I've encountered that before. Its that goony thing where people feel someone unpaid who does a good job will dilute their standing and pay scale. Maybe they're right. I've never coached in high school for money so I don't know the politics. I'm sure they're politics. There always are.
Its a good thing the game is so beautiful.
I got an email from a good friend. He was congratulating me for things that really have little to do with me.
Four athletes I've met are going to the Olympics. I think my coaching tips to them were of my usual class ("Run faster!" being my favorite.) And I have over a dozen kids who've played don my teams in NFL camps.
All these athletes are there because of their efforts. I'm excited and pleased that they allowed me to stand on the sidelines to watch these kids develop from boys and girls to fine men and women.
Of course I'll be watching for them. I'll be cheering for them.
Some of the kids in the NFL camps worry me. Most of them I know are of the caliber to deal with all of the nonsense, but a couple of them . . .
I'm just an old man afraid to let go, I think. They'll be fine. I just wish they all make the team.

Posted by David at 12:32 PM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Nautilus" by Unknown Our big pizza party had a hitch.
The giant dog stole the frozen pizza off of the counter and made a line for the corner of the backyard. Before I realized what had happened he finished the whole thing . . .
My puppy and I spent the day ostracizing him.
He has to figure out how to make three bucks to replace our pizza. If he ever stops laughing I plan to tell him so.

I had the cat out for an hour or so. She kept trying to find a dark nook to hide in. I spent the time dragging her out and putting her in the middle of the room.
The improvement in her walking was noticeable as she worked her leg. Towards the end she even managed to climb the child gate to the closet without too much difficulty.
She's way too thin. I'll keep working on her. She's no stoic. She's uncomfortable, I think but not really suffering.
I still don't know if she's going to make it. She's old but its anyone's guess as to how old.
She did noticeably better when my friend held her in her lap and stroked her.

"Mary Shelly Overdrive" is a band that's doing something I like.
They're giving away their newest EP. Seven Songs, all covers. Cool covers too - Bo Diddley, Devo, Antiseen. Cool stuff. You can download "Hideous Sexy", their album by clicking on the name. The cover art is included and it is uber cool. Very much worth seeing. I also like the caveat on the album: "If you try and sell this music we will find you and we will kill you". Grrr-eat stuff.
The only thing I'm not too wild about is the music. Disappointed. They do serviceable covers of some great songs, but, for me, the sound is too dark and cavernous. Doesn't mean you won't like the noise they make. Everything else about this project is totally right headed. It is definitely worth the bandwidth to download the tracks (oh yeah, all 192k mp3's, encoded with iTunes). If you're in a band the package should get you excited about getting your music out there.

I saw "Red Cliffs" last night. The big big movie Chine made sort of for the Olympics. Its based on a six hundred year old historical novel, the most popular book in China. The characters in it and variations permeate and form the base of most Chinese fiction, written and movie. Its a very cool movie. What keeps it from greatness is that its in two part! The second part due out in December.
John Woo returns to China with a flourish. He's done a sweet job of encapsulating Hollywood and Chinese story telling techniques. Its cool and all the lead characters are memorable and lovable.
There's a scene where two of the leads are feeling each other out trying to figure on a military alliance against the bad guys.
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Neil Doshi They don't talk instead they play a duet on those wild Chinese dulcimer like things. When the duet finishes the visitor gets up and leaves with barely a word. His companion follows after him and says, "you never even asked him about going to war!"
The advisor replies, "He told me in his music. He will fight for freedom."
Back inside the wife asks the general, "What was that about?"
The General replies, "I heard it in his music. He needs a friend."
That put me deeply in mind of Del Shannon and the new album of his I got: "The Further Adventures Of Charles Westover".
The albums from 1967. In '67 the charts were dominated by The Beatles "Sergeant Pepper", (I know its getting considered as the greatest album ever made. I've never been able to listen to all the way through. I've heard all the tracks. Some I really really hate. A couple I think are okay. When you're not in agreement with the greatest ever its a time to consider getting out of music . . . ) Jimmy Hendrix, Cream and the burgeoning Hippie Movement.
A couple of years earlier Del Shannon had been touring in London. He met Andrew Loog Oldham (best known as the guy who made the Rolling Stones and for wearing tons of eye makeup.).
A lot of American pop stars went to England after they discovered just a how badly the Americans and the RAIA had ripped them off.
Oldham and Shannon recorded an album. The label shelved it because it wasn't psychedelic . . . Shannon was rightly stunned. Songs like "Stand Up" show an evolving talent that was encapsulating his urban vision to a world view, keeping the teen aged fighting spirit. Shannon's take on relationships remain quixotic and passionate.
The label had Shannon return to America and work with a new "hep" producer. The new album got close to Shannon's skin. The title reflects it. Charles Westover is Shannon's real name. "The Further Adventures" part refers to having to make a second attempt to get out a record, at least on the surface.
On the record the producers showed, at least that they had a grasp on the power of Del Shannon. In an time where concept albums and "Rock Operas" were the new vogue he realized that Shannon was composing teen operas from the start. Shannon didn't need to 24 tracks to tell a deep story. He could so it in 2 minutes thirty six seconds.
They recorded "Runaway '67" a rococo stab at wildness, trying to plant Verdi onto pop. With its chiming mandolin and dark brown string section it nearly works. Regretfully the rest of the tracks take off from that basis. It does have a few cool numbers. What project by Del Shannon wouldn't?
Shannon's cover of Boyce & Hart's "She" has a certain power where Shannon cuts through the
Click images for desktop size: "Mujer con Rebozo Azul" by Unknown strange production effects.
"The House Where Nobody Lives" shows that Shannon could walk away with any project. He was a major talent as a song writer and a performer. The production tries to undercut this but fails.
The best thing about the disc is that it gives life to the shelved album.
Listening to this and to the last album of Shannon's career, before he pulled a Cobain and shot him self in the head with a 22 rifle, songs like "Walk Away" show that he retained his clear vision and knew his tools and power. I'm always reminded that Shannon learned to play ukulele at age 4. His mom taught him. He taught himself guitar. He got kicked out of school at age 14 for playing the guitar in class!! He perfected his guitar chops and vocal style screeching and wailing the school bathroom.
The guy's talent was eternal and too brief.

Posted by David at 2:43 PM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Lion Waiting in Nambia" by Unknown Bad news on the cat front.
She's still alive but early this morning she started mewling. When I checked it seemed she'd lost the use of her back legs.
I examined her pretty fully and could see nothing surface apparent.
My little dog who got pancreatic cancer; after her surgery she had to stay in a crate for almost two weeks. Like a bedridden human her tendons shortened and she had trouble walking when she was finally released from the crate. I'm hoping its the same situation here.
The cat has gone off her food as well. My pancreatic dog went off her food as well at about this time. The cat purred at me this morning. I take that as a good sign. These are the only things I have to go on.
The gentle dog went into work today with my friend. The gentle dog was thrilled and quite considers it his right.
I just have my puppy and the giant dog with me today. I'm planning to put them out in the yard and then let the cat roam the house on her own for a while. Hopefully this will give her the exercise to stimulate her appetite and work her muscles. She showed an interest in her food even if she didn't eat much of it. The interest she showed gives me hope.
If she doesn't show signs of recovering . . . It makes me fearful. I don't like cats. I lived with them. I've met a couple cats I do like but I just don't like cats. But I don't want the cat to die. I seen enough death. I've lost enough friends, human and animal, to know that death is too permanent. Every death leaves a hole in my life, in all our lives.
For locking the dogs outside and risking exposing them to cat I got a cheap-o frozen pizza. Just the kind we like. (We are not quite as impoverished today.) We put odd junk on the pizza and then we split it up and feast!
Aside from the complaints that I get more than m,y share cheap-o frozen pizza always sheers them up. They'll forgive me.

Click images for desktop size: "Leopard Woman" by Unknown Thanks for everyone for voting for my puppy's picture. You can stop now. She went from 7 to nearly 70 votes. There's no prize or anything. I meant it mostly as a joke, I think. Maybe one of those half kidding jokes . . .
I suddenly realized that since my little blind dog passed away I haven't been taking pictures of the dogs. I used to take pictures almost daily.
It somehow isn't as much fun. That's not right. I love my dogs. Even my dogs I don't know well or haven't met yet.
I think that his passing shocked me. Sturdy reminder of mortality. Mortality sucks even if it does give everything before it some significance. Instead of getting pictures I'm just enjoying the dogs' time with me.
I'm doing laundry today too . . .

Posted by David at 11:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "5 Centimeters A Second" by Kabegami The weather improved enough yesterday for me to give the gentle dog his bath. Oddly, he was not in the least bit grateful.
Today my puppy gets her bath. I hope we both survive.
On that pet picture page, where they entered my puppy without consulting me. Her poor picture is now number one for the day. I feel like I cheated.
The cat continues to stay alive.
So do I.
I have a cold. Fighting it my usual way.
As I mentioned I find it hard if not impossible to fall asleep in silence. My friend can't sleep while the radio plays. So my hare brained solution is to go to sleep wearing earbuds listening to a special sleepy time playlist.
Aside from not being able to sleep on my side its working fine. Last night I fell asleep in ten minutes. Woke up an hour later to The Dream Syndicate covering "Let It Rain". Its a great song to wake up to and fall back to sleep to. I keep wondering if anyone outside of Southern Cal has ever heard of Dream Syndicate. They're a great band. Anyone who can make an Eric Clapton song memorable is great to me.
(By the way - I've gone back to my more aesthetically pleasing but more aggravating to you mode of not having any links show up unless you hover over them. More than ever I dislike the underlines or other methods of calling attention to "this is a link!")
One good thing, at least good for me, is that I got to listen to my two new acquisitions yesterday.
Most of you know that my personal pantheontology contains Jan Berry and Del Shannon. Most of you can't understand where I'm coming from.
I mean, you'll cut me some slack on Del Shannon - he had hits and all that, but Jan Berry of Jan & Dean bewilders you. He gets called kiddy pop and the like. I consider him one of the great song writers and performers of the 20th Century. So do most of the people who live West of the I-5.
When Brian Wilson (Beach Boys) was sitting in a Gardenia High School penning "Be True To Your School" 15 year Old Jan Berry was listening to Doo Wop and arranging old songs, teaching those old songs how to rock. He paired up with an older guy, Arnie Ginsberg and made a recording in his basement. "Jenny Lee" became Jan Berry's first Top Ten hit. He was almost 16.
Jan & Arnie made a few more successful records when Arnie abruptly got drafted. Jan was furious. Wanted him to. well, not abandon the band.
Its impossible to say what might have happened if Arnie had become had draft dodger. It might have made a cool scene at a concert when the Marshall's came to arrest him. Arnie just went into the army and Jan found Dean Torrance on the beach.
A high school kid who's a national celebrity has a lot of cachet. Dean sought Jan out and demanded he sing with him. Together they had about 26 top 40 hits, 5 Top Ten albums. They were the biggest thing in pop when Jan got his draft notice.
Leaving the draft board after getting his 1A classification (that meant he was next) Jan was tooling in his Porsche Spyder when he smacked into a stopped on the freeway dump truck.
He was brain damaged. The prognosis was irrecoverable brain damage. It took him two years to learn how to speak and to walk. He had the mind of a 5 year old.
His recovery and his return to the stage are the stuff of Lifetime TV movie legend. My pal, Dalene Young, even wrote it. It was as good as it could have been with Richard Hatch (!?!) as Jan and Bruce Davison as Dean it was as inaccurate and about as good as it could be.
Onstage Jan & Dean were great performers. Always dressed in the height of beach fashion Jan was the sexy cool one while Dean was the crazy cool guy. Dean's jokes and antics reeked of class clown but that was the point.
Click images for desktop size: "Thunderball" by JW McGinnis On stage they were us. The stage act at the concert halls was the same stage act when they bash acoustic guitars and dance and sing at their impromptu surf side parties. (Everyone invited).
Here's the two of them doing "Do Wah Diddy Diddy". If you've ever played in a band you've had that moment when you've played a totally scorching number, every note just right and power dripping heavy in the air and you stop and all you hear is the buzz of conversation and a couple of half hearted hand claps, usually from your girl friend. Your front man has made himself hoarse exhorting the crowd to dance or at least listen. Even legends like James Brown and Wilson Pickett would have to lead the audience with "Say YEAH!" or the like. That they could get a response says an awful lot about their juice.
In "Do Wah Diddy Diddy" Jan & Dean are doing a cover. Its hard to hear with all the little girls screaming but when Jan & Dean get to the chorus its clear they were listening. Because Jan & Dean just stop singing and after just a beat the audience sings the chorus, unbidden, uninvited but knowing that this was their cue.
Its chilling. Its more chilling that it was done so good naturedly, so happily.
With joy.
I think about that and a million other things whenever I listen to Jan Berry. The album I got is called "All The Hits". It has better copies of all the hits and a lot of stuff I never heard before: Radio chatter, studio chatter commercials and promos. Cool stuff.
It also has some of the obscure tracks like "Batman" from the totally bizarre concept album (in the days before anyone ever heard of a concept album) that saw Jan writing songs about his favorite comic book and all the characters there in!! Strange stuff but cool.
Jan was an awesome arranger and producer. He also put together the greatest bands ever. One of the treats of the album are some tracks laid down before adding the vocals. Listening to
Click images for desktop size: "Ruslana Korshunova" Hal Blaine and Billy Strange is always a thrill like in this blinding take of "Deadman's Curve".
It it also includes the strange but wonderful track "A Beginning From An End". The sweet song with the soaring chorus about losing a wife to gain a daughter all told from a teen husbands perspective . . . YOW!
If you don't know Jan & Dean this is an album worth having. Its not complete but its the best I've seen. It would be cooler if it had some of the uncredited stuff Jan did with Brian Wilson and the dozens of other groups that sprung up imitating Jan's unique sound.
This has gone on too long. And I've barely said anything about this great band.
I've got a dog to bathe so I'll try and remember to tell y'all about the second album tomorrow.
I mean, if you're interested. Who couldn't be?

Posted by David at 10:54 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Samurai" by Unknown I was a bit distressed to discover that this big multi-national pet food company (that I don't like - they're the ones who "pioneered" using old shoes as "beef by-products" in their dog food; to up the iron content to the bags specs they added iron filings . . . this was over 20 years ago but I hold a grudge) took a picture from my Flickr account and put it in some sort of poll on their web site.
Taking the picture and posting it without telling me doesn't bother me except they took, what I think, is a pretty cruddy picture. And it seems to be some sort of poll and MY PUPPY IS LOOSING TO CATS! Cats . . .
Here's the link to the page: Petcharts. Its the top little window on the left. There's a scroll bar underneath the pictures. A Yellow Lab is winning. Last night my puppy was number 9.
Please vote for whomever you feel, if you're so inclined, except for CATS!
Mixing my puppy in with cats just seems so unwholesome . . .

I've been up since 4:30 this morning. I was awakened because of CATS!
I believe that an army of militant cats were stalking the house and preparing some sort of nefarious plan of an evil so loathsome that only a feline mind could conceive of it and then be so heartless as to execute it.
I was lucky. The dogs chased them away. They may have done it loudly, the dogs may have come and checked on my safety a few too many times. They may have barked a little bit longer than was required after the cat pack had been run away. I understand about being sure but . . . There's no denying they probably might have saved my life.
I figure the cat I've been nursing hired or perhaps even masterminded the cat pack attack. Who knows what evil lurks in the feline mind.
The cat is doing fine. She sits easy, eats, urinates, defecates, stares at me with unbridled hatred. I'm hoping that in a couple of weeks she'll be healed up enough to start exercising and putting on some weight.
I spoke to City Hall yesterday. My dog sitting/walking service is cool. Needs nothing special. I was half hoping I could get some sort of Government recognized certificate to assuage people's doubts and fears, but that is not happening.
My idea for posting fliers is a no go. I figured there'd be reg's about them. I didn't know they were strictly prohibited. Makes sense. I asked about all the fliers I saw stuck on posts and got a spiel about what is allowed; Removable signs. I do see a lot of those.
So I still have to design a flier for the pet stores, vet's and neighborhood bulletin boards. Neighborhood bulletin boards still exist. Just not as often. I liked it in London when the local shops all had them/ They were a great local replacement for the newspapers expensive classified ads.
Now I need to consider whether I should put on a row of little tear off slips with my phone number on it. That means using a full sheet of paper or if I should use something more index sized with a picture and the new cell phone number in LARGE numbers.
I was going to put in testimonials from my dogs but I didn't think they'd say anything to nice about me for public consumption.

Click images for desktop size: "Midsummer Holiday" by Maxfield Parrish The pups did go with me yesterday so we could study a couple of bulletin boards. They were uniform in that they were devoid of all inspiration . . .
My other plans for today have been splashed by the weather. I was going to mow the lawn, do laundry and then bathe my puppy and the gentle dog.
My puppy needs it. The fleas are eating her up. They are so rugged the Frontline stuff only lasts about two weeks! She looks horrible with her blown coat and picked at bald spots!
The gentle dog needs a bath so he can go to work with my friend on Friday. He went with her on Sunday and Monday and Tuesday he was genuinely startled that going with her wasn't his new job. Monday he moped about it.
Don't think I should bathe dogs on rainy muddy days. I think the clean effect of a bath should last at least a full day . . .
I figure today I can use the rain as an excuse to listen to the new-old music I recently got.

Posted by David at 9:33 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Flying Lemons" by Unknown I was sick yesterday. Not bad sick, just excess body fluid expunging sick. Some kind of flu I'd guess.
My friend put in a 14 hour day at work. She didn't get home until after 1 a.m. That might be a good thing. There was no one for me to take out my crabbiness on. Especially since she was near as sick as me.
The cat is surviving my haphazard health care. She bit me again while I was "treating" her. She's healing well, clearly. We are starting to settle back into our casual calm antipathy.
I did manage to watch a modestly interesting film, "Prey For Rock & Roll".
It started out interesting, at least. Its about a mid 30's woman who's been playing in bands for the last 20 years. Clinging to the dream of being a rock star.
This bit of the story was told with a voice over narrative. She talked a lot about things that bothered all of us who were still standing in front of a drunk crowd while we were considering whether it was worth it to buy medical insurance.
The movie had some good lines, "In twenty years I'd had more bands than I'd had lovers"; "It was a good gig. We made thirteen fifty apiece. That's not enough to support my eyeliner habit."
The fact that 3/4 of the femme band is gay was okay. It made it interesting to hear some of the same fears all gigging bands have come from the heart of a woman.
I liked the band stuff: The leader supporting
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by de herself with a tattoo parlour, the lead guitarist giving guitar lessons to thrashing chicks. That was good stuff that was to easy to relate to. The friction between boyfriends and girlfriends, the friction and joy within the band was all presented well and it was scary identifiable real. I liked the meetings in coffee shops with promoters.
I didn't even mind the stuff about dealing with the families. I even liked the older woman trying to cope with her lesbian heavily tattooed daughter who was nothing like the dream she had when she gave birth to the little girl. She wanted a housekeeper not a rock goddess.
But then it got stupid. It introduced too many melodramatic moments and just frittered away the story of the band. I mean the jerk off boyfriend (of the one straight member in the band) turning into a sexual predator with serious hang ups was hard to take for the wrong reasons. (The actor being really poor didn't help that bad idea much either) But then they added in this extraneous character and sub plot about incest and murder, the movie just got stupid. I watched a lot of it in fast forward while my interest disintegrated.
I liked the idea of a band in LA. One thing that's true is Hollywood sucks in the young beauty contest winners and now it sucks in the people with rock star dreams. There seems to be enough to hold a movie together. For the first 40 minutes it was making a pretty cool feature but the filmmakers either got scared or they ran out of ideas and turning it into a movie about vulnerable women was boring stuff and wasted a great start.
Like most people I get the most disappointed when you promise me greatness then deliver me to drivel.

Today I'm going to work on a flier for the dog walking thing.
I liked meeting the new little dog. I figure a flier with a phone number would feel more real to people and maybe assuage some of the worries that I'm a house breaker or some such.
I also need to find out the local laws about posting fliers on lamp posts and things. I'd like to hit like every light post, at least one every fifty yards or so. But I don't want to get fined or something.
I'll also hit all the animal hospitals and pet stores (thanks for the suggestions)>
And I'll take the dogs for a longish walk. I still feel a bit ill. On the upswing but still thick around the middle sort of thing.
It doesn't sound busy but it will be.

I'm getting a lot of requests, again, abut where do I get this or that picture.
I've answered this before. Some people send them to me. They make them. I trade sometimes and sometimes I just stumble across them. A very very few I make myself. A lot are art scans I turn
Click images for desktop size: "Wolverine" by Marvel Comics into desktops (wallpapers for you Windows guys).
I used to not use stuff that had no artist info but I soon found out a lot of that info was wrong anyway. But I seldom remember where I got anything that has a generic name or an unknown attached to it. If it says anonymous that means the person who sent it to me doesn't want their name floating around. I respect that.
I got some interesting "new" music this weekend. I hope I get to hear some of it today.

Posted by David at 10:56 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Unknown I found some work. Its walking a dog for two days.
I like the dog plenty, a graying black mutt with happy blue eyes and a big desire to play. I don't like the woman who hired me. She's watching the dog for the owners who are in hospital. I probably would have liked them.
The woman described the owners as an "older couple". As in, she couldn't understand why an "older couple" got such a young dog . . . The little thing has to be at least 12. That's not young for a dog, even if the pup is spry and happy.
I used the money to buy some household necessities. That felt all right.
The woman who hired me left me notes I had to sign and date stamp . . . and there were spies noting my coming and going. I do wonder why they'd spy on me instead of just offering to take the dog out. He's a sweet thing and no trouble at all.
I didn't have keys to the house. She left the dog in a pen in the yard. Its a nice pen with plenty of water and shade plus a nice old school dog house. So it doesn't bother me too much that he has to spend time there. She still cried when I left her.
This lack of trust was something I hadn't counted on when I started running the ad. Thinking about it there really is no reason to trust me. Although I do think that offering to walk your dog would be a weird way to gain access as a house breaker.

Click images for desktop size: "Bonsai" by Le Revant I guess I either have to get to know more people for references or buy a bond or something. Both aren't bad ideas. I'll have to see if I can make more money to justify the bond. If I get enough customers to justify it I probably won't need it (the bond, I mean).
I'm tired. More from all the walking. It's like nearly two miles there. I wade it in 20 minutes, which is good but I ended up drenched in sweat by the time I got home. Really harsh big drop soak your shirt sweat. I'll recover.

On the home front I hacked the AppleTV. Not as complicated as it sounds. My main reason for doing this was to recover the stuff on the AppleTV that was lost when the PowerBook HD crashed.
For whatever reason Apple decided that the AppleTV would only sync one way. I suspect that was to keep people from sharing music and movies. Its the requirement for the iPods so it seems logical. Except the iPod is so ubiquitous that there are plenty of apps to let you recover your music from the iPod (I like Senuti - its free and does the job well and easily. Senuti doesn't even let you accidentally duplicate tracks or overwrite songs with old versions.)
Unfortunately there's no software to do the same thing for the AppleTV. So they only solution was to hack the thing. The hack enables SSH communication between the computer and the AppleTV. This is cool because I can now download all the lost music and photo's back to the PowerBook.
What isn't cool is that I can't figure out how to copy directories across a network so the files have to be dragged across one at a time, virtually. This is tedious but preferable to losing all that stuff.
The hack has a couple of other things I didn''t think I'd care about. One of them is to use SSH to put Xvid files on the AppleTV. It plays them flawlessly! This is handy for those oddball flics I want to see but have no desire to keep. It takes about 3 minutes to upload an Xvid avi to the AppleTV as compared to the four hours needed to convert it to avc.
The hack also allows for "Couch Surfing". Which I can't figure out the "why" for. Its a pain to input url's using the virtual keyboard and the Apple remote, but I looked at it anyway.
To install the hack was pretty no-brainer stuff. Its just formatting a memory stick, putting it in the USB port of the AppleTV and rebooting it.
The best thing is that the hack does nothing to harm the old functions of the AppleTV. I went into this with the attitude of do or die. I'd either get all the stuff of the machine or I'd lose it all. So leaving the data and old functions untouched is a real killer find for me.
It looks like the hack does it by
Click images for desktop size: "Vampi" by Frank Frazetta setting up a separate directory that leaves everything else untouched. This also means you can play with it pretty safely.
I'm happy with it.

I'm also happy as I got a very early birthday present. A cell phone. Its a pay as you go. You have to love that an impoverished guy has a cell phone.
With my serious iPod addiction I'll probably never hear it ring. Since I usually keep my cell phones in my back pack odds are I'll never feel it vibrate either . . .
Most of you are used to me never answering my phone and no matter how frustrated you get with me, you still call. Thanks for that.
Now there's a new shiny way for me to be rude to my friends . . .
I'm very happy about it and with it.

Posted by David at 5:12 PM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "On Day in the Big City" by Justin Maller It was not a very good weekend.
On Saturday it rained all night and continued to rain all through Sunday. My friend needed to go into work but her computer system was down so she had to stay home and watch her schedule and deadlines flitter away.
I'm selfish enough to not have minded that. I like having her around.
Then the cat who has looked near death for a while showed up with a wooden tongue and some pretty nasty revolting causes for it. Tried to clean her up. Did a good job of it. It was harder on my friend than on me. I don't like that. Not because I've had too much experience with tragedy and destruction but because I don't like anyone else having to know what its like. She soldiered on pretty well. I'll never like other people having to be tough.
It bothers me the most that she holds herself responsible and sees the cat's illness and mortality as her fault. I respect people taking responsibility for the world. It saddens me when that responsibility becomes a source of pain.
She then began the arduous task of clipping the Giant dog. Maybe as an act of penance but most likely because he really needs to be clipped.
The Giant dog was astonishingly cool about the whole thing. It was amazing because a few days before he went ballistic at the sight of a scissors and the sound of the clippers. He looks silly now, but he enjoys looking silly.
She also made Blueberry muffins and homemade Frosty Paws for the dogs! Actually the blueberry muffins were for us. The dogs never got any of them but since they refused to share their Frosty Paws I guess that's all fair.
My friend then pointed out she doesn't like me being so possessive of things, like "my giant dog", "my blueberries", "my kids". Its my habit. I know its not always a bad habit. Its a lever I use, I guess, for inspiration and to keep my dedication up. It requires more thought from me.
I did get to watch a mess of movies. That always elevates me.

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by A Brito For some reason in the West and particularly America there's not a lot of respect or credence given to internet writers. I mean people who set up web sites to publish their fiction. I'm not talking about blogs that get picked up by publishers. The ones they pick up always seem to be of the "Emma Bombeck" school of treacle.
Its like Preston Sturges said in "Christmas In July": "I know its a good idea because somebody else said it was. I didn't get where I am today by trusting my own judgement!"
Just because some metricious reader at a publishing house or a get richer literary agent has passed on a work that the writer believes in we, the public, seem to want to side with the establishment and ignore work that hasn't been pre-screened for us, usually screened by people we wouldn't want to have as friends or who wouldn't want to have to talk to us.
In Asia that prejudice isn't nearly as rampant, in fact some writers web sites are checked frequently, the readers as anxious for the next installment as Victorian readers waited impatiently for the next Dickens part or Sherlock Holmes episode.
The Japanese and Korean film makers have even made some extraordinary films based on internet novels. "My Sassy Girl" and "My Heart Cries Love At The Center Of The Universe" come immediately to mind. This writer Gwiyeoni, a south Korean will now only publish his stuff on the internet. His stories have made some great great movies, like "He Was Cool".
All the internet novel movies share some things in common, aside from a freshness and a unique way at approaching life. There's the ready acceptance of technology and the impact that it has on our lives and on our relationships. There's a deep down respect for humanity, a respect that is deepened not deaden by the tech. The stories are deeply melodramatic and romantic. They see humor in tragedy in each melodramatic occurrence. People act like people and not always as we expect or want. Every person has a point of view that is different from the object of affection and that never creates friction, just understanding.
And the movies are always about the young.
The latest internet novel movie out of Korea has made the stars celebrities. It was a monster hit and yet I was seriously disappointed. "Do Re Mi So Pa La Ti Do" looks vaguely promising in a teeny bopper sort of way. Its about a cute girl and a cute boy. He's in a band and does a lot of K-Pop songs.
They fall in love with all the intensity and devotion that only teenagers can really inspire in each other. Except she has a past. This is one part of the problem. The tawdry past isn't very tawdry.
It all leads to a massive headache that only happens because of the selfishness of frightened youth.
Click images for desktop size: "Pueblo Street Market" by Unknown The male star has a total psychotic break and regresses to infantilism.
The heroine decides to recreate the massive trauma that led to his break. Now the sensibility of this is pretty darn questionable. It does lead to one of the great lines in the movie when a fem member of the band says to the heroine, "Why can't you leave him alone! Maybe he's happier the way he is."
Of course it all works out . . . for everybody I guess.
There are some cool scenes and some fascinating characters but the movie never astonished or amazed.
The only other movie of note was a real oldie. Ernest Lubitsch's "To Be Or Not To Be". Made in 1942 and Lubitsch's response to having to flee Europe and the Nazi's its a film that makes titters guffaws and a lovely feeling of contentment and wistful happiness. Carol Lombard really proves why she is a legendary movie actress. Jack Benny is delightful. All the scenes work exactly as you'd hope. It never sinks to bathos and was just a pleasant way to end a tumultuous weekend.

Posted by David at 10:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Its All Grey" by Jakob P I didn't go out looking for money yesterday. Probably a good thing.
My blood sugar dropped below 2. It's supposed to not fall any lower than 4 and never any higher than 10. So too is hyperglycemic pass out time.
I put it down to too much exercise, too much sweat. I found some chocolate coated coffee beans in the fridge (what kind of impoverished people have chocolate covered coffee beans in the fridge?) and a few of those stopped the black spinning spirals and just left me with the shakes. Astonishingly the injection of chocolate only raised my blood sugars to 4.3.
My friend thought that the Doc's wanted my blood sugars to be near hyperglycemic. The opthamologists do. They want me to keep the sugars between 4 and 5. That's to slow down the blindness.
The other Doc's want me to stay between 4 and 7, with a spike up to 10 after meals being acceptable. A couple years ago there was a lot of debate as to whether I'd go blind before I died. I always wondered if they started a pool about it. A few of the Doc's were throwing around odds like 5 to 2, that's why I suddenly paid attention. I thought they were talking about football or something interesting . . .
My sneaky food stealing puppy always amazes me. When I was starting to tumble she locked in close to me with none of her usual demands. She just stayed close (but not so close I might fall on her) and watched me intently.
Earlier we'd gone for a walk to the post office with a slight detour through the park.
The gentle dog was so excited he spent the first two hundred yards springing up to my eye level and laughing. He only stopped when we reached the park entrance and looked so imploring we had to make the tour.

Click images for desktop size: "Dream Days" by Maxfield Parrish In the park a couple of kids wanted to play with the dogs. While I was explaining to them that the giant dog and the gentle dog couldn't be petted one of them grabbed my puppy's ear hard enough for my puppy to yelp. I was impressed with my puppy because she didn't snap at the kid, which I would have done, but remembered her therapy dog training, pulling away and coming to stand beside me on the opposite side.
She behaved better than the kids, when I explained to them that they couldn't play with the dogs and hurt them the seven or eight year old flipped me off!
Their father came over by then and apologized for them. That calmed me down but I was still shaking my head. Its okay to hurt me but not my puppy, I guess. At least in my mind . . .
We went to the Post Office and met an older woman who had a heavy Brummie accent. She wanted to talk about the dogs. She was delighted with them and even knew my puppy's breed! The pack liked her too because she scratched their ears properly with no pulling.
I keep getting hammered with doubts about my suitability to be involved with people in the face of my deteriorating condition.
Of course the way I handle that is to not handle it. I'm going out to look for money in a bit. I'm hoping that the heavy heat and humidity might scare off a few workers and about now the "boss" will be looking for bodies, no matter how inept, just to lug stuff around.
I'm your boy for that.
It might seem foolish but its more important to me to not be beaten.
I've fought these diseases for a good chunk of my life now. Some of my Doc's have even understood.
The important thing is to not give in to the parts of my body that want to just give in and collapse. It takes fight to stay alive and to have a life worth living.
It would be easier to just lounge around all day, play with the puppies and pretend I'm healing. Some days that is all I'm capable of.
Most days its better to believe I'm out there and fighting and winning.
When I was working my old job I never missed a day in two and a half years due to illness. That didn't mean I was a loyal employee. I hated the job. It meant I wasn't giving in and that I wasn't going to be beaten by a disease.
At least not until the diseases gets stronger than me. I want that to take some doing. I'm happy now. Why let some rampant cells shorten the happiness.

Posted by David at 9:50 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Blue Circles" by Dorian H 49 I walked around for 4 hours yesterday. Couldn't find any way to make money. No work. No hundred buck bills in the gutter.
I'm going to do the same today. Hoping for a better result.
Tuesday is gardener's day for most places around here. Its going to be a totally lovely day, so it won't be bad looking for work but I'm afraid that with the nice weather all the regular workers will show up.
The shortage of cash isn't life threatening. Its just uncomfortable.

Not feeling my best. Not sure why. Part of it is my little blind dog still weighs heavy in my heart.
I miss the little guy.
The other three seem to have finished adapting to losing a "pack member". New routines, new positions for guarding and sleeping.
My puppy did something funny. Both "ha ha" funny and peculiar funny. My friend was in the bathroom. My puppy forced the door open then looked around it to make sure she was there. My puppy then went over and stole some dog food from the Gentle dog's bowl.
My puppy steals food by hiding giant mouthfuls in her cheeks, like a chipmunk. When my friend caught my puppy she said bad dog and my puppy dumped all the food from her mouth on to the floor and slunk away. My puppy hates being called a bad dog.
Well, I thought it was funny.
My mouth and teeth are causing me trouble. They told me 8 years ago that there was a good chance that one of the trials I was on could make me lose all of my teeth in 10 years. Interesting side effect. I didn't pay much attention then and I only remember it when something happens. A large chunk of a tooth shattered. My mouth is sore and shifting around.
Makes me realize I'm not much afraid of dying. I've been close enough to know that's a fact. I am afraid of what leads up to the dying. The slow process. The slow disintegration.
Its like Seth Brundle in Cronenberg's "The Fly". I always vividly recall the scene where Jeff Goldblum is at his medicine chest meticulously storing and keeping the parts of his humanity that he keeps shedding.

Click images for desktop size: "Dragon Tao" by Unknown I try and deal with it by clowning. I think laughing and being silly is the best way to regain humanity. It annoys everybody else so I'll have to find another way. When life is thin the little things mean a lot.
I can't afford to aggravate too many people.
I got an email wanting to know why I went on so much about Woody Guthrie. The writer had never heard of him and figured he couldn't be as important as I was trying to make him out.
Well, history books and media are all controlled by rich men. The rich can be more vindictive then the poor, and they are experienced in recognizing their enemies.
The people control music and songs. The RAIA wants to control it but they can't, not yet anyway. They can't stop you from singing a song to yourself or singing a song with your friends.
I think if Woody Guthrie weren't such an effective enemy of the loathsome rich he'd be better remembered. If he were less of a hero people wouldn't still be singing his songs today.

Posted by David at 9:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Vienna" by Unknown Got to work yesterday.
Made fifteen bucks by hauling 15 refrigerators up 2 and 3 flights of stairs in a renovated apartment building.
There was another guy helping. The boss paid us in advance!
My immediate thought was to look over at my partner to see if he'd skip out on me and leave me with all the hauling. He didn't but I think he was considering it. I think that if I'd said I'd go along with it he'd have rabbited.
It was pretty easy work. Took us about 3 hours. It really should have taken about 90 minutes tops. I thought about some guys in Texas I'd worked with. They'd have finished the job in about 30 minutes and then we'd have been off looking for another job.
Nice not to be quite that desperate.
A neighbor woman, older than me, if you can believe such an ancient person exists - older than me indeed, was out mowing her lawn. My instinct was to offer to do the job for a few bucks. She's nice to the dogs so I offered to help her for free. I admit I was glad she turned me down. All the walking and hauling had left me pretty shattered. My ham strings are unbelievably tight.
The rain is pouring down here. No chance to amble and look today. Then there's a weekend so its staying in and suffering the modern way, with beau coup movies and music to divert and amuse.
I'm out of pills, out of sugar free sweetener. I still can't drink coffee without sweetener. I'm a wimp like that.
I still miss my little blind dog.
The rain bought him fresh to the fore front of my mind. The thunder terrified him. When it thundered he'd get as close to me as possible. During bad thunder rolls he'd dig his head into my arm pit if I was lying down, or jump into my lap if I was sitting.
Seems creepy missing somebody like this. Missing them being terrified, I mean. It seems cruel.

I still don't want an iPhone. I'm mildly interested in an iPod touch, which is just an iPhone without the phone. The only impact the iPhone has on me is that Apple updated the AppleTV firm ware to work with the iPhone. The update included some nicer looking icons.

Posted by David at 9:24 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Fly" Back from the doctors.
It was a very cursory examination, except for the money part. They were very thorough collecting the money.
Oddities. My left eye is even more worthless than I thought. With my glasses on I could read line 8 of the chart with my right eye but only line 3 with my left, and the left reading was hesitant. I wouldn't bet I got any of them right.
The doctor made no comment.
At the blood test it took the the tech 3 stabs to find a vein. I'm moderately used to that. The good techs can do it in one jab but the new ones thunder about in a panic and hurt me more than if they just gave up. She prodded and twisted the needle a lot in both arms before taking the blood from my right wrist. She poked a nerve . . . I can still feel it.
Luckily I don't bleed. They pull out the needle and give it a swipe and I'm done. I made the poor woman so nervous that she bandaged me up too well. All the gauze and tape were nearly as uncomfortable as the sticking.
The X-ray was nothing. Just one full on chest. I don't have TB. I guess that's good news . . . I wasn't worried about it.

On the plus or negative side my friend got to stay with me. Which was cool. Then I even got a ride home. A part of me was curious about taking the bus home, and getting a chance to check out the new Alkaline Trio Album on the iPod.
I enjoyed hanging out with my friend more than that though.
I guess not having to make the 4 miles of walking isn't a bad thing. Saves me the strength to terrorize my dogs.
The negative part is that she took of work to meet our house guests and my puppies brother so she's had like a full vacation. I worry about her not being back in work. Its not my worry but I still do . . . worry that is.
On the way to the doc's saw an animal control truck. There was a little white samoyed yipping and running about. We stopped and watched. It had a collar on so hopefully the little guy will get reclaimed ASAP.
Click images for desktop size: "Monument Valley Lady" by Unknown We stopped to watch mainly to make sure the dog catcher didn't use a taser or tranq darts on the little guy. Foolish dog. He should have come to our house. We're just around the corner.
Still he was only about 15 yards from a busy 4 lane street so it was better for him to be picked up.
And after all is said and done we're FLAT broke. But only for 2 weeks until the next paycheck. It will be harsh but not so bad as being flat broke and not having a paycheck to look forward to.
Taxes. Yeah, taxes broke us.
But I'm home and my dogs are all feeling terribly neglected. We took them to the lake yesterday but they didn't enjoy it near as much as they did when they had to impress my puppy's brother.
We're going out into the beautiful day that is, so far, free of fireworks. I realize where I lived before that the people were too poor to afford all the stuff they set off around here.
I hate fireworks every time one of the dogs cringes.

Posted by David at 12:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Bird In Branches" by Unknown Its going to be a beautiful day today.
The sun is bright. It won't be too warm. The air is cleansed by the storms.
The house still beats empty. The loss of the little blind dog is still keenly felt.
The absence of vivacious house guests and an extra tentative puppy is still noticeable.
Th constant explosions of fireworks and mini-bombs still has the pack in a constant state of ill ease. The Gentle dog put himself in the bathroom and even closed the door to shut out both the silence and the explosions.
Still, its going to be a beautiful day today.

Beautiful day means I finally get to do some laundry. The dryer is busted. It was mangling clothes. Really mangling and ripping them apart. Now have to do the old clothesline trick.
Drying clothes in the sun isn't that big of a pain. Main thing is having to remember to put clothes softener in. Clothes dry really stiffly on the outside in nature. Fabric softener reduces that to a tolerable level.
The biggest issue, especially in a house filled with dogs, is no lint removal!
It feels like a "rich man's complaint" carping about having to haul clothes around and clip them to a rope. It could be worse. It just feels strange having my rigid schedules dictated by something as arbitrary as sunshine and nature.
You all know its my rigid schedules that let me cope with the fluid unpredictable world. So this feels different . . .

Yesterday was not eventful. Well, it was the way life has a way of always being eventful
I have a doc appointment tomorrow. Just a physical. Had to get ready for that. Two days in advance . . . I LIKE rigid schedules!
I have to eat muesli. I don't like it much but I got to eat it sometimes. One of the nuts wedged against a tooth, one of the loose teeth I've been fighting to preserve . . . mainly out of vanity.

Click images for desktop size: "Coagulation" by dDefinder It wedged and bent it. The tooth still in in there. It looks jagged and like it should be wearing braces. It looked bad before but now it looks worse and its uncomfortable.
I still don't want to just let it fall out. I don't think I can tolerate losing another part of me, even one so small. And because its in front . . .
I thought muesli was supposed to be good for me.
The giant dog disappointed. Not really. I think he was tired of hearing how good and trustworthy he'd become. He stole a bag of dried banana chips from the table and ate them. Didn't make him sick. I guess that's alright. His breath smells like monkey's.
My puppy is clamouring for an adventure. Fortunately her idea of adventure is going to the park and maybe getting pizza!
Low expectations are usually pretty easy for me to fulfill. Its the real stuff that gives me a problem.
Watched a couple of movies. Generally amusing was "Godzilla and Mothera: Battle For The Earth". It was cool because it focused on all these serious environmental issues. The earth was attacking, well, the earth, because of insane developers and fossil fuels! It had great lines in it like, "The Planet Earth is trying to destroy us because of our arrogance!"
Why the Planet Earth chose a giant moth who shoots laser beams as its agent of destruction is some speculation to avoid.
The watched a rather dreary Japanese "Battle Royale" rip off - "Kill Devil". It was pointless. Still it had two scenes that I liked a lot. One made no sense. Two guys we'd never seen before (or after) are in a cell and start to do a beat box rap and dance. It was stunningly impressive.
Then after everyone in the film is dead . . . how dreary . . . they somehow come back to life to end the movie with a totally out of place 7 minute dance routine. The dancing was modern ballet and hyper-cool. I just have no idea what it was intended to mean.
Finally. I installed the new MacOSX update:
Click images for desktop size: "Ruslane Korshunova" by Unknown Leopard 10.5.4. This appears to be more in getting Mac's ready for the 2nd gen iPhone, so I had moderate interest. I've been running it for 12 hours and it seems fine. I don't notice anymore extra stability, but its not crashing or giving me the spinning beach ball so it seems okay. I did notice it gives you some extra and welcome information when your repairing permissions (something I guess you're supposed to do every/any time you update the OS) but nothing flashy or insanely cool.
I'm more interested in the upcoming iTunes. I'm hoping it gets more stable and uses less memory while holding more securely to the networking with the AppleTV.
Just have to see.
And still a bit concerned over network and internet security in general. Since the WordPress site got hacked I had an inexplicable invasion on the iMac. Still studying that.
So, now its time to remark: Its going to be a beautiful day.

Posted by David at 9:59 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "She Did It Here" by Anonymous The house feels empty.
House guests are gone. My little blind dog is still gone. No canine resurrection.

The visit was nothing but fun, except for the mad and scrupulous house cleaning that proceeded it . . . and the scary StarBucks Incident!
When my friends touched down I met them with my puppy. At first her brother and she were glad to meet then he tried to mount her (dominance mounting, not sexual - they're both neutered) and she snapped at him. Her brother took that pretty seriously.
We drove back to the house so her brother could meet the other two dogs. After the 12 hour drive to a new world I guess her brother needed to feel in control of his life again. He got nippy with the Giant Dog who snapped back. The Gentleman dog decided this was all a lot of fun and joined in! It only lasted a second but it seemed to have embedding into her brother's engrams.
We took a walk together. For some reason I had to walk all three dogs . . . and the trio and my puppy's brother were all just fine. But he stayed wary of the three of them for the rest of the visit.
We went home and got presents! Nothing better than a guest bearing gifts! I got vital supplies and my puppy got treats and MORE treats.
My puppy thinks anyone with treats and food is doubly privileged. They not only get to look upon her but feed her as well. My puppy loves her food.
We started the next morning with a visit to StarBucks. It wasn't StarBucks fault, really. I got a Vanilla Latte with skim milk and sugar free vanilla. It hit my system all wrong. I've had it happen in the past with different foods and drugs so it wasn't terrifying but it makes things uncomfortable for me.
Its the feeling that your whole body is hollow, ringingly achingly so. It feels most uncomfortable in your head and in your thorax. Its maddening.

Click images for desktop size: "Skylines" by Turi Before it got too bad we checked out a nearby pet store that someone had recommended but that I'd never been in before. They had FREE FOOD SAMPLES. I love free samples.
I spoke briefly with the store owner. She had some pictures she'd just printed out of her dogs, including one that had just passed away. She wasn't prepared to see the picture of her dog and got misty. She couldn't control it.
I plan to try and shop there.
The rest of the day was a bit blurry for me. We must have walked a lot. We had lunch and I remember some well meaning nagging about what I ate, but I don't remember what we ate.
I do remember dinner. My friend is a cool chef and he made a Carnival Of Shrimp Redux. Not as wonderful as the original Carnival Of Shrimp but still very memorable in its own right. The grilled shrimp and vegetables cut right through my haze.
The dogs appeared to have a calm truce mode going on. My three behaved as usual but my puppy's brother stayed diffident and overtly cautious around the three of them. Once he tried to play with his sister but when the other two showed an interest he backed off and went into slunk mode.
We went to bed too late. I woke the next day feeling no better. As the day progressed the haze parted enough for me to feel irritable. Some of you know what I mean, its that time when you swear you can feel the air molecules driving painfully into your skin. The hollowness lingers but the joints become real solid feeling and painful.
We went to a farmer's market, flea market sort of thing. I remember that there were a lot of Irish Mennonites there. For some reason it struck me as odd. I liked the lyrical Irish accent while they were hawking their fruit and vegetables.
After the flea market we went to the town. It was a huge effort to stay erect. My hips were screaming as were my shoulders and arms.
I did notice that there were a lot of interesting styles to the Mennonite carriages in the town. Some were junkers, some were limousines, even saw a two horse racing style buggy and a tiny buggy that looked more like a coffin then a mode of transportation. I wondered if the driver was shy or hated the world. There were only small slits for vision and I guess ventilation. All of the buggies were painted a monotonous flat black. They looked dingy against the bright sunny sky. Not secular or spartan just dingy.

Click images for desktop size: "Aladdin" by Maxfield Parrish I don't remember what else we did that day and evening. I could feel my body coming back to me. Like a leg thats cramped and fallen asleep it wakening made me irritable and hostile and resentful. No reason for it except the chemicals that make me be alive I guess.
I do remember being concerned about my puppy's brother. My Giant Dog was becoming very enamored of him in a very positive way. While the two of them attempted to play anytime that the other two tried to join in her brother would scurry back into the house. I found this distressing.
I woke up the next day and felt more like myself but still nasty and irritable. Very black thoughts. Heck, maybe nasty and irritable is my old self.
We went to a forest preserve to walk the pack. It was fun.
All the dogs got along splendidly united in their mutual desire to good naturedly kill me.
It was a long hot walk but I felt much better for it. We saw a turtle and a toad, which are highlights grand enough to make mine or any dog's week.
That evening my friends all sounded like they were having a world of fun making gluten free perogis. Perogis are Polish kind of like raviolis. They were up until 3. It sounded like they were having fun. I sat in the office fiddling about, not doing much of anything except recovering and talking to the dogs who kept coming to check on me, or who wanted me to get up and give them some sample perogis. It was definitely one or the other.
I slept well that night. The next day we went to the near by big city. Scoped out about a mile of outlet stores and the area China Town.
I like big cities. I like looking at people and seeing buses and traffic. It was okay. I was surprised when they found me shops selling Asian DVD's 10 for 20 dollars and as I looked through the racks I discovered I had all of them already . . .
That evening we enjoyed the Festival Of Perogis. They were different than the ones I remembered. But they were okay and it was easy to enjoy all the enjoyment around me. Everybody was cranked over them. My friend especially. She'd been waiting 11 years to have perogis again. They talked a lot about gluten free dough and such. The dogs kept offering to try them and give their opinion . . .
Our guest, the chef, only had one serving. He said he wanted to save the rest for my friend. She was touched by that.
The little memorial for my little blind dog showed up. Its a book of photo's is all, hard bound
Click images for desktop size: "Untamed Love" by Frank Frazetta with a pretty dust cover.
iPhoto has a very idiot proof button to push that will take a group of selected photos and arrange them within a template.
I use Aperture (although I usually use Lightroom - Adobe supports my inexpensive RAW shooting Fuji and Apple doesn't!! Apple supports RAW files natively, but each camera manufacturer has their own secret spec. Apple only bothers with the RAW formats in the 800 bucks and up class) and it gives a tighter control over the templates and design of the thing, even allowing you to go outside of the app to tweak and twiddle.
My friend didn't want to look at it. This disappointed me but makes sense. I needed the catharsis of creating it of dreaming about my little blind dog. She needs the space to deal with her own grief.
I checked the book through and it looks very well done. It looks slick and professional and exactly like the pdf file I laid out. It seemed expensive at the time, but only because we're so poor. In hand it feels very much worth it. For me at least it will be a place to always know my little blind dog exists.
Memories are not life but memories are sometimes all that survives. The little 20 page book should do that: make the memories real.
And then it was time for our guests to leave. Maybe they didn't like sleeping in the closet . . . well, it is the only room we have!
All the dogs were getting along. The giant dog had a new best friend and decided he loved our guests. All the dogs were sad to see them leave. It was too soon. My Giant Dog was committed to stowing away and visiting his best-est friends. Luckily he's pretty inept at everything except laughing and being big so he didn't quite pull it off.
So now the house feels twice as empty for everyone. The fireworks have already started so the pups are on edge. The storms and the heat are uncomfortable but for me, at least, feels better than whatever is in a "skinny sugar-free latte".
I liked having friends around. I don't even mind them leaving so long as they keep on being.

Posted by David at 9:55 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Desert Roses" by EvegneyFor the past days I've been working on a memorial for my little blind dog.
About 20 hours of intense concentration, which is a long time for me. It served one purpose. It didn't expunge the grief but it reminded me of what I loved about the little guy and how that love led us to nothing but fun.
The project turned out bigger than I thought. I hope the effort is justified by the end result. When its completed it should be a nice keep sake for my friend. Although the little blind dog was my friend she was her friend also.
I can't say what it will end up being yet. I just hope that when its completed she'll feel the same way I do while I'm making it.
One thing I clearly remembered is that, like people, dogs never truly leave us. When they've entered your life they remain always a part of it. Like the Southern Gypsy who saw the ghosts trailing behind me, ghosts of people and dogs. Give her credit for either being very clever or being genuine.
When I look back and remember them I don't remember so much of the tragic circumstances of their leaving. Not even much of their heroism. I remember the goofiness, the smiles, the laughs.
Dogs have emotions. They have a sense of humour. They like to play tricks on you and tell you jokes. Dog jokes are pretty stupid but dogs find them incredibly funny.
Like my first Belgian Shepherd would come to work with me at the recording studio. She got bored so set herself up as an official greeter. When clients came in she led them up the stairs to the lounge. I guess she carried on some scintillating conversation. I know that a lot of clients would come back with their friends to show off the hostess dog.
What I found incredible was that she could tell the difference between clients and salesman and guys who just wandered in off the street. They were all strangers to her so I never figured out what clues she used to tell the difference between the important people and the annoyances. My receptionist used to say that it was because my dog could smell the money in the clients pockets.
My little survivor Belgian used to steal my glasses from the bed side table every night. She never hurt or damaged them but she took them every night and hid them.
Each of my mornings would start with a search for my glasses. She always pretended to help. Being a dog she only knew of two hiding places: In her toy box or under the kitchen chair I never sat in.
She'd scurry all over the house "helping" me look. When I'd get close to them she'd run up and snatch them before I could touch them, dance around with them in her mouth and demand a cookie for being so helpful to me.
My little blind dog was the most determined dog I'd ever seen. He moved with an elegant sashaying stoicism that impressed even strangers.
With all his maladies he was suffering. He had to be but he never let it get in the way of his good times. He would teach me that the world is different when your handicapped but its still a beautiful place. Every time he pushed his way to the front of the pack to make sure he got his treat he taught me something.
Click images for desktop size: "Expedition to Hell" by Alex Iuss I need more friends then that.
Following his example made it easier to cope with my own physical discomfort. That's one of the least things I'm grateful to him for.
I still miss him. As empty as this house feels now my world would have been even emptier without him.

I have house guests coming. My puppies brother! (Littermate for the pedantic.)
We count on good times and fun even if the visit is going to be too short. Well, its the old show biz adage, I guess: "Always leave them wanting more!"
The only drawback to having house guests is the pre-arrival house cleaning. I know its so they'll feel comfortable but it always feels like paying pre-fun penance, or an attempt to deceive people that, "Yes, I always live in this high state of sanitation and sterility. I'm not a bum, no siree, not me."

Posted by David at 10:34 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Evening Reflections" by Unknown Last night, at 7:02 p.m., my little blind dog passed away.
We'd been expecting him to die since Christmas. The six more months we had should seem a blessing. I wanted 600 more.
He seemed fine. His bronchitis seemed to be acting up a bit more the past 3 days and the thunderstorms were bothering him. He protected himself from the thunder by burrowing into my armpit.
About 2:30 yesterday he started drooling heavily. He seemed worried. He kept jumping into my lap. When we walked to check the mail he bumped into my leg a couple of times and didn't have his usual wiggle butt enthusiasm for the task.
We sat on the couch together for an hour or so. He cuddled hard against me, demanding pets.
At about 6:20 my friend got home. I left my little blind dog with her while I went out to mow the lawn. I had just finished when she came outside and told me the little guy had died. I went inside. He wasn't dead yet.
I petted him. He responded. He was cold so I wrapped him in my hoodie. He licked my hand but couldn't pull his tongue back into his mouth. It lolled out of his mouth. My friend got a little red velvet pillow for his head.
I had to close his blind eyes with my hands. He wheezed hard a few times. I tried to give him some of his vanilla ice cream but he had no idea it was there. A minute later he was gone.
I waited about five minutes trying to will him back to life. That never works but I always try.
I went out and dug him a grave in the backyard, behind a boulder there. His real favorite place was at the front gate, waiting for me to take him outside, or beside the car waiting to go for a drive, so he could smell all there was to smell.
My friend arranged him in a couple of pretty towels and wrapped him in my hoodie. I wanted to bury him in the hoodie. He liked it. Its Gortex lined and I think it will not disintegrate and it will keep him dry. He hated being wet.
The other three dogs cavorted while we buried him. I know I share that trait that wants to anamorphize animals, particularly during stressful times, but there's nothing wrong with thinking they were celebrating my little blind dog's life. They stayed unbidden by the grave the entire time.
I noticed what I always notice. Its life that identifies and makes something recognizable, life and the way it splashes against you. What's left is just a memory of something great.

Click images for desktop size: "Dark Day" by Benny The little dog followed me everywhere. He had bronchitis so I would always hear him behind me, huffing, sometimes angrily because he wanted me just to sit down and stay in one place. He was always underfoot. He told me jokes and demanded to be as close to me as he could at all times. He never was annoying.
We had a lot of great adventures together.
His bronchitis meant he would cough almost non stop. He woke us all the time with his coughing. I never minded that. I'd wake up sometimes because it was too quiet and he'd be pressed hard against me sleeping peacefully.
He had terrible allergies. They're what blinded him. They made him smell bad. When the spores were heavy in the air they turned his skin black. We made him wear clothes so he wouldn't look so bad and to stop the more disastrous effects of his non stop scratching.
He smelled terrible. Everything he laid on would soon smell just like him.
If he wanted up on the bed or onto the sofa he'd stand and bug me until I lifted him up, usually by his clothes. If I didn't move fast enough he'd turn into a red rocket and jump up as high as he could.
Sometimes he'd make it. Sometimes I'd have to catch him. He always acted like that was my job.
During the night I woke up several times thinking that I'd made a mistake and he was still out there alive. Half asleep I decided I'd take a zombie little blind dog if I couldn't have my little dog for real.
I tried to think of what I could have or shouldn't have done. I'm catholic. Catholics are always comfortable feeling guilty. Guilt is easier to deal with than grief. I know that. Guilt can be excused or justified but grief is just an empty pit that sucks parts of your soul away until you feel there's nothing left. There wasn't anything undone or anything that should have been done that wasn't.
I'll be in mourning for a while.
I'm still in the habit of looking under my office chair to make sure I don't run over him.
Trying to make sense of an empty space in my life. If you don't understand mourning a dog or if you say "It's just a dog," I'd never hear you say it. I wouldn't know you.
He was blind, he smelled bad, he coughed constantly, he was always underfoot. He always pushed his way to the front when I was handing out ice cream or cookies. He always laughed and got excited when we went out. He urinated in the house when he got scared.
I miss him. I loved him.
I guess he's another one I'll miss forever.
We were each other's best friend.
He waited until he could say goodbye to the people he loved and trusted. That takes guts I don't know if even I have.

Posted by David at 10:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Click images for desktop size: "Daft End Direkt" by J3 Designs Once one of my players asked me what made me special enough to play big time college football. I said, "Speed and rage." Which sounded as glib then as it does now.
It was early in my coaching career. I got better.
Even though its a glib answer its accurate. Speed is natural. But any speed result can be improved until you max it. I ran a 4.5 40. It was my consistent max. That's quick still, but in an age when DB's and WR's are clocking in 4.3's and it takes a 4.2 to make the scouts notice 4.5 doesn't seem like much.
Speed is natural but the rage . . .
My buddy Tom was a victim of rage. He got banned from the Pac 10 for being "incorrigible" at 20 years old, all because of rage.
Rage is consuming and letting it take over your life is a hardship. It hurts and clouds; destroys whatever good might be able to soak through it.
I was lucky. I was running the stadium steps. It was my normal punishment, usually for getting aggressive with a team mate during practice. My coach took the time to talk to me. He took the time to change me and remove the rage. It took about a year but I saw the game differently after that. It was no longer kill or be a target. It became fun. I became what the British call a "useful player". Good enough to belong on the field, occasionally I'd make a big play and I was enough of a concern for defenses that the stars could make the really big plays.
As a frothing hate filled maniac I was a better football player. My coach was kind enough to sacrifice that to see me become a better man. At least that's what I took from it.
I was suffering then. Fearful and dangerous in the way a perfectly fit and strong kid can be dangerous when fueled by a fear that step fathers and previous coaches had fueled.
It took my coach to see it and act on it. I was suffering. For whatever reason Americans pride themselves on suffering in silence.
Jim Bouton mentioned it inadequately that
Click images for desktop size: "Donna Troy - Wonder Woman" by DC Comics the greatest compliment a guy can get is, "He wouldn't say shit if he had a mouthful."
I suffer now, physically though and not mentally. Physical suffering is easier in a lot of ways.
In all the ways I've grown since being the enraged destructive force I've never gotten past the bad habit of ignoring pain and suffering quietly. I have a huge pain threshold, I know that, but even when the pain gets pretty consuming I still find myself telling the doctors, "Its not too bad."
Even when I see the effect that it has on others. See, when I suffer I go through that complicated process starting with self pity. Is there any more despicable trait then self pity? But I touch it and wonder, "Why me? Why do I have to hurt like this? Why can't I ever feel a moment's peace?"
When I feel that I get self recriminating, another bad habit. I remind myself that "men" don't feel self pity. "Men" just destroy the obstacles. I guess that works when your a salty kid but it seems sort of immature for an adult.
Dealing with the pain and all the rest of the baggage I've attached to the pain gets me short tempered and unforgiving. I haven't felt the black clouds of rage for a few years but I suspect that people outside of myself would have a hard time telling the difference.
As I get weaker and sicker its harder for me to accept the weakness. To say "I hurt," and to expect understanding. I've a life time of knowing that people like it when you share your feelings, so long as its the good feelings, the bad ones they'd rather you kept to yourself.
I have to stop with my double standards; holding myself to a higher standard that I would hold others.

I started throwing a softball yesterday. Yeah, I've gotten to that age where I'm thinking of playing slow pitch softball. I still have enough ego to only want to play if I can contribute.
I've got a softball. I threw it against a tree 60 feet away fifty times. I hit the tree within 2 inches of where I was aiming 96% of the time. That was with no zip on it, more than a lob but not whipping it in there. I noticed my arm was dropping down to 3/4 sidearm. Normally I'd put that down to tiredness. In this case it seemed to increase my accuracy and reduce the pain.
I'm going to continue throwing it against that tree for a while. I'll add 5 feet to it until I get to 120 feet.
Click images for desktop size: "Dream State" by Unknown I've got enough yard for that. Then I'll got to a nearby ball field and throw against the back stop. If I can get the ball with some reasonable speed at 200 feet about 100 times I'll be able to play short or even some fill in outfield.
I'm looking for some batting cages in the area. I've always had a left eye dominance (and I'm a goofy foot). With the issues with my eyes I don't know if that will be enough. I used to be able to pick up 90 mph fastballs leaving the pitcher's hand now I'm not certain I'll be able to pick up a softball until its too late. I know I've got enough bat speed to drive the ball if it gets in my wheelhouse but I'm not sure I can pick the ball up soon enough to move it to the house.
The best part of throwing a ball against the tree is watching the dogs chase it down. Every throw then becomes a quick sprint. They like to catch the ball but then they demand to be chased for their efforts! My puppy even crawled under the car to get the ball! Then the giant dog crawled under the car, I guess just to see if he'd fit.
When my puppy got tired of me yelling at her to bring the ball back she'd jut go run after the ball and stand over it, marking its location for me like a good golf caddy.
I played a game of lob/catch with my friend. Only about 15 minutes. We stood about 15 feet apart . . . It wore me out to the point of collapsing the moment I sat down. I'll have to work on endurance. I can't remember if softball lasts 7 or 9 innings. So I'll train for 18 innings to be safe.

I managed not to delete all the comments! This was cool because some fellow named John Muir (I wonder if he's related to the Muir who discovered Yosemite? Yosemite is still in the top 3 of most beautiful places on the planet). His comment had a link to a comparison of Obama and McCain. He directed me to the stuff about net neutrality. Obama said all the right words. McCain's comment was inane. "They own the pipe. They're entitled to make a profit."
In his mind it would be cool for him to pay your ISP a few thousand bucks and have them block all of Obama's sites and speed up access to his site. That's free enterprise according to the sick twisted and lame.
I guess if you don't like your ISP doing that to you you can always switch services, oh wait,
Click images for desktop size: "Everyone Dreams" by Unknown since most ISP's have monopolies you can't . . .
(Can we accept that the internet has become a necessity as much as a telephone?)
Nowhere did I ever notice McCain making a statement about the rights of people.
I was also stunned to see that McCain claims a net worth of 40 million dollars. What kind of slime has 40 million bucks but still is weasley enough to take a disability pension that clearly doesn't prevent him from working. I was equally shocked when it came out that Tipper O'Neal was taking a 700 buck Social Security payment when he was the Democratic Speaker of the House! It looks like I'll be voting for Obama. He keeps saying mostly the right things even though I strongly disagree with his take on immigration and US seclusion.

Posted by David at 10:42 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Frank Mellech I never met Bo Diddley. I saw him play twice. Once as an opening act and once as a blues act.
When he was an opener for some band I've forgotten about he was pretty poor. He was locked into a psychedelic cowboy thing, didn't play any of his hits and just jammed for what seemed like hours.
If it wasn't that he was Bo Diddley I would have forgotten that set too. I remember thinking I'd have gotten tired of playing "Who Do You Love" after 30 years too.
As the headliner at a blues festival he was better, much better. Although I think his music was blues in the same way I guess you could call Little Richard the blues. The roots were there but you had to look hard.
Bo Diddley, with Jerome and the Duchess, made something new, if Rock & Roll hadn't already been invented the pounding tom toms and the high end maraca sizzle would have been something that terrified and excited the world.
And the lyrics. No ones ever written a better line than, "I got a tombstone hat and a graveyard mind. I'm just twenty two and I don't mind dying. So come on, take a walk with me child and tell me: Who do you love?"
Its odd. Hearing that Bo Diddley died yesterday doesn't feel like a hole in the heart. There's too much music out there. Too much that wouldn't have happened with out him. From Buddy Holly's "Peggy Sue" to George Thorogood's appropriation of the Bo Diddley beat with his driving covers like "Bad To The Bone". In fact anytime the drummer doesn't do just a one-two-three-four but instead embellishes and punches the beat into submission, I think of Bo Diddley.
So one last time let's "Bring It To Jerome" and be glad that there are people out there who aren't afraid to lead, even if its just for a tiny speck of time a leader will always change the world as we know it.

My puppy's brother is coming for a visit. We're excited but also looking at a lot of cleaning and prep.
That's not exciting . . .

Posted by David at 9:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Mountain King" by Unknown - Ancient Chinese The house my dogs and I live in is on a large lot. On the south its about 30 feet to the fence then about 20 yards to the neighbors house. On the north there's about 35 feet to the fence and the neighbors. To the west there aren't any neighbors to speak of. On the east its a bit closer, about 18 feet to the fence and the neighbors.
When you look out the front porch its blackness like a forest blackness. I find that calming.
And yet today I felt smothered and cramped.
Its not a valid feeling, physically. I've been in bed sits in Europe that were no bigger than this place's storage shed. Where your next door neighbor is a two by four and a piece of dry wall away; where you share a toilet and a shower with 6 neighbors. There the humanity oozes out into you. Living so close people get reclusive and afraid. Afraid of people and your neighbors. Sometimes just afraid.
I felt like that today. Like all these people were pressing against me, stealing my breath.
Its the economy, or the lack of it. Its the lack of humanity, for sure. The lack of kindness that frightened people can't bring themselves to give to one another.
Its telephones and emails and pagers and cell phones so that even when your staring off into a black black night you can never feel secure in your peace.
Its not the terrorists, thats becoming a joke now. An excuse to steal the freedom that rich fat bastards have hated having to grant us. Even worse or the cretins whose only goal is to be one of those rich fat cats who blindly slug their fellows instituting their policies, looking for a dollop of spilled gravy.
We enjoy living in fear. We're comfortable with it. We miss it when its gone. So we let the ultra rich rape and slaughter foreign lands, make the world hate us, make the down trodden we have more and more in common with every day our enemies.
We did it in Nicaragua. American Can and Fruit were making a killing. So we supported them by propping up a government that tortured and starved its people. The rich had solid gold telephones
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Michael Whelan while the workers lived in fields and ate grubs for dinner. The ones lucky enough to work for the American companies endured conditions that our forefathers fought and defeated at Matewan, Detroit, Virginia and Kentucky. Sadly they only got a victory they didn't destroy the rich cats who wanted to take it away from us.
Freedom is easy. You just have to fight and win and then never lose. Someone said that about a slave revolt.
So in Nicaragua the Sandinistas had a revolution so that they might not die and live with dignity. And when they won we decided they were communists . . . And we made the workers, the poor people are now our enemy when they weren't. When there is no reason for them to be. We let the rich win.
That makes me feel that sometimes there is just too much world.
I had a good day today too.
My walk went nothing as planned. It was better.
I took my puppy and my giant dog. Giant dog is huge but timid. When we started off he suddenly went berserk. I even had to turn off the iPod!
He's always going crazy so I didn't pay too much attention. My puppy's new habit is to go over and check whatever makes "the boys" act up. Her interest was perked so I went to see, with some small trepidations over finding some dead thing or . . . What I found was an empty 5 gallon water bottle blowing and banging against a rod in the ditch. It was pretty clean so I picked it up and we walked to the store where I turned it in for a ten buck deposit!
Little makes a day better than found money.
We used the bucks to buy our friend some beer, for a light socket to repair a lamp, and a pepperoni for all the pups.
We even got to go into the liquor store together! I am still won't to take the dogs in me wherever I go.
Another great way to make a day is too to a minor electrical repair and have it turn out well - no sparks, smoke or intense ozone smell.
I repaired an old lamp . . . I don't care. it was fun and thinking about how pleased my friend would be made it better.
The only negative was that the big loud hot movie, "The Machine Girl" was a let down. I don't have a Japanese school girl fetish so the idea of a heroine killing people and flashing her panties didn't really inspire me.
The movie is way over the top. Six gallons of blood per minute pumping out of a severed arm doesn't disturb me, but here, it actually bored me. The movie has no core, so soul. Most of the jokes are predicated on the basis that you've seen too many Japanese TV dramas, too many Cheesy Japanese films (like "The Girls Rebel Force Of Competitive Swimmers".
I was expecting something more subversive, more creative.

Click images for desktop size: "Ben Black Elk" by Unknown The two femme leads were pleasant to look at but they weren't very good fighters. They often looked clumsy. The gore was not good looking and it appeared that they went for the humorous aspect of it, ala "Robocop" because they didn't have the budget or the expertise to make it thrilling or shocking.
Its not a movie I'd have been excited to discover on my own (like "Duel:Aragami"), like a cult klazzik (like "Guinea Pig Flowers Of Evil"). It was just a bit of overt mess that didn't even entertain. It only bored.
What a disappointment.
The new broadband has not kicked in yet. I still have worries about the new independent provider being decent.
I'm not sure why this preys on my mind so. The present provider is one of the worlds worst at bandwidth shaping. I've always believed that the little guy can do better than the monopolies. Maybe because it seems like such an essential service that is still so delicate and prone to grievous errors. I'm committed so anyway, so we'll see.

Posted by David at 9:57 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Castro Gold Sea" by Marcus Of Full Reason Yesterday didn't go anywhere like I'd planned it. That's not a bad thing. Plans going awry let you improvise. Best parts of life come from spontaneous improvisation, I think.
What through me off was discovering that DSL modems now are MAC addressed by the provider. How foolish. It does nothing to benefit the consumer. It just makes it easier to void net neutrality and do advanced traffic shaping, which are all detrimental to the consumer who is already saddled with a grossly over priced service. Maybe it helps them prevent theft of service some how. I don't really know.
I mean I figured that a better DSL modem would just plug in and that I'd use it and my router until the new DSL service kicked in. Then I could just have a nice seamless transformation. It seems I'll know when the new service kicks in when this one stops working . . . maybe not. The new carrier promises no traffic shaping and guarantees net neutrality. Maybe the old modem will just send the signal on unimpeded. Who knows.
Anyway, since everything connected and was looking right I was flummoxed as to why the internet it said was there was inaccessible. I tested everything before I figured I should try and see if the modem was somehow being blocked. It was. I confirmed it.
I didn't take a nap watching a mediocre movie. (I like mediocre movies almost as much as I like good ones and half as much as I like great ones but only half again as much as I like bad ones. I only loathe movies like "Pirates Of The Caribbean 3" that opened with unnecessary cruelty to a child. Hitchcock, that erstwhile hack, knew 80 years ago you don't harm a child in a movie. It becomes the apogee of emotion in the film. In "Pirates" it was just for the shock and added nothing, except to make me uncomfortable and wonder where this was leading in a kiddy flic.)
The rest of the day was taken up in the house hold junk. Broke, flat before payday. Using credit cards that have been trying to pay down and eradicate to buy essentials, like gasoline and dog supplies.

Click images for desktop size: "Marilyn Monroe" Had to get the dogs their flea stuff. It had an immediate effect on them. A lot less scratching, except my puppy who has developed a way of running and scratching her tummy with her hind leg . . . she has sores there. I might have to wrap her to let them heal.
My little blind dog has allergies. His scratching may or may not be related to fleas. His blindness was most likely an allergic reaction. He wears clothes to keep him from scratching himself up. He's torn a hole in his side. He bit me when I accidentally touched it. Not hard enough to hurt, just to startle. I guess he was startled.
Like a fool I spent 4 bucks I don't have buying them some dried salmon treats. It never seems like wasting money when its for the dogs or friends.
Then discovered about 2 gallons of vegetarian chili had gone bad. That was planned for dinner and for about the next 3 dinners, so that was a blow. Had plain rice instead. I guess, at least, that's healthy.
I'm still not sleeping well. Got up twice during the night and still got up for good about an hour before the alarm clock went off. Can't blame the puppies for it this time, even though they enjoyed having me up and around.
The new update for Mac OS X was released yesterday. 10.5.3, which are a lot of numbers to type. I haven't noticed any real improvements so far. It was a large 500 meg update so I assume I'll notice them sooner or later. The main thing I have noticed is that the address Book app (that I use primarily to remember my own phone numbers) now has built in sync service for gmail, Yahoo and the overpriced dot mac service.
One thing that bugs me. Aperture is the Mac pro photo management tool I like it much more than iPhoto, except all the added cameras it supports are the over $1,000 ones! Which means my little low end Fuji RAW pix have to be handled through LightRoom. I still use Aperture for the jpg's I shoot with my little compact Olympus and I like it plenty for that. Except I am such a poor photographer, in every way, that I need the tools and exposure latitude in RAW files to get an image that's viewable (except for that happenstance good pic I sometimes take).
I dislike this money based elitism Apple is showing here. Part of the hassle is that the camera manufactures all use a different standard for the mosaic RAW format. But the issue is also that Apple keeps the reading of image files as part of the OS infrastructure. In some ways this is a superior method in terms of speed and color management, but it means guys like me who can only get our little cameras are treated like second class citizens.
I never thought I'd be grateful to Adobe to be able to see my pictures that way I dream of them being.
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Eric Drudwin(We can forget about me trying to take better pictures. I try and learn but I seldom even think of taking a picture when I'm looking at something, then when I do remember its in such a rush panic that its amazing I get anything. I depend on software tricks to get something good looking or at least visible!)
As for today, I want to take a long walk with my dogs. I need it to take out the pain and kinks in my body and maybe to wear myself out enough to sleep.
And I plan to watch "The Machine Girl" and watch it at an obscene volume level. Its the new Japanese flic that's hot right now. About a girl who loses an arm when her family is murdered by yakuza ninjas (!). She has the arm replaced with a machine gun! School girl murderess!
Its supposed to be colossally funny and supremely gory. Just the way we like 'em.

Posted by David at 10:10 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Haunted Hotel" by Hybrid Works I walked 9 miles yesterday. Took me two and a half hours. Not too bad considering all the hills.
This wasn't planned. I started out just planning to get a cup of coffee. Coffee has balms to ease the ravished spirit and mend the bruised ego.
I must live in the only neighborhood in the world that doesn't have a Starbucks every two blocks. Maybe I should open one. I was sure I'd seen a coffee joint somewhere. The two I found were closed. Maybe because it was Sunday. Maybe because it was before noon. So I kept looking.
I noticed that my arms became very heavy. It felt like they were dislocating at the shoulder. My hands cramped badly, painfully. It was odd. Not what I'm used to when I walk.
There were a lot of cars on the road, and a lot of cars in the church parking lots (made me miss living in the bible belt - I owned the streets and stores from 10 am until 1 p.m. every Sunday) but only one other person walking. Fortunately he was memorable.
It was about 70 out and sunny. Pretty pleasant. He was not wearing a shirt and he had on levi cut offs. He had the whitest skin I'd ever seen on a man or woman. (In my entire life no one has ever said I had gorgeous so white skin . . . ) What made it more remarkable is that he was totally buffed out. Like most guys doing their own work out plan the buff was all upper body. He had sad skinny white legs.
It made his chest and delts look huge. Maybe that was the intended effect. His six pack had the smeary effect I usually attribute to using one of those electric pads (The equivalent of 10,000 crunches just by wearing our safe and painless . . . )
He must have been waiting for the first sunny day so he could walk around and show off his wintery body work. I thought about suggesting he hit a tanning salon but thought better of it. I just said, "Hey. Look fit."
He smiled and said, "And I did it all myself!" Which I thought was an odd comment but before I'd come up with a response better than, "Huh?" we'd passed each other.
I never did find a place to get Hi-Q coffee. Ended up at Taco Bell and got a half dozen vegetarian tacos for 7 bucks. That's a taco with beans instead of meat filling. Like a bean burrito wrapped in a corn tortilla.
Click images for desktop size: "Josephine" by A Rodriguez Their profit and loss statement must love people ordering them. They'll make them for you if you ask. I don't like them but my friend does. When I got home found out they'd shorted me one. I tried to eat the last one. It was soggy and not too good. But she ate 4 of them and that's who they were for.
Spent the rest of the day feeling sore.
Did yard work and tinkered with tools. The dogs hate when I do yard work with power tools. I make them stay outside and they are totally convinced I'll do myself some serious damage if I don't have a dog to watch over me.
After I took my puppy and my little blind dog to the store to get a Diet Dr Pepper. Whenever I think my little blind dog is doing well he shows me he isn't. He was overjoyed, as usual, to get to go on a walk. He was dancing along when he walked straight into a concrete lamp post. He staggered for a nano second and then began sniffing the post like nothing at all had happened and just had a great time driving me nuts the rest of the way. Before on the store walk I've had to carry him part of the way. Today he had to stop to catch his breath but eagerly continued on. He loves me. My puppy loves me. Although they both think I'm stingy.
Watched a couple of forgettable movies after starting two others that seemed too good to watch by myself. Then I collapsed into a black sleep. Woken by dogs telling me it was time. Found I'd stretched my legs out full to fight the fatigue and cramping. I'd stuck my feet under the foot rail and was clearly using it too stretch the muscles in my battered legs.

Posted by David at 9:49 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Electrogoth" by Envy Since I've had access to the AppleTV i haven't even turned on a DVD player . . . odd that.
It makes me realize the importance of senses and the anthropological psychology of our senses.
Like we've all allowed to have rather lousy memories for sounds. We've all had a friend who we thought had died because we kept hearing the same song pour out of his bed room window, over and over again.
When you finally break in you find out there was nothing wrong. He just dug the tune. Couldn't get enough of it.
Or we've gotten into a car with a friend who played the same track over and over again, all the way to wherever you two were going and you were probably glad it wasn't any further.
If we'd evolved with auditory memory that matched our visual memory we wouldn't be able to do that.
Its like you can listen to a live concert of your fave band a few times without even blinking, but you'd be hard pressed to watch a video of the same show more than once or twice. You'd get bored and relate to editing gaffes instead of watching. Most often you'd end up reading and listening, or looking at anything except the image.
Its part of the power of paintings and photographs I guess, the ability to take you someplace, someplace new or the same familiar place, each time you gaze at a painting even though you know every pixel of the painting by heart. There's more than a certain genius to that, or else we'd all live in bare walled holes.
Our sense of smell is pretty terrible and we only seem to recall smells that are bad or great - a cess pool or your mom's cooking. Even though scents have a way of bringing up a bigger and wider range of emotional responses from us that come closer to re-experiencing the reality of a moment, of all moments connected to a scent.
And touch? Unless its connected to pleasure or pain who remembers a touch. Its why we can do all those cool nasty tricks with peeled grapes and things at Halloween.
All of that is why I don't get to stressed about my little blind dog sitting happily two inches from a wall, apparently staring at it happily.

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Frank FrazettaWith as much effort as we put into communicating with aliens from outer space we don't put much time into communicating with the aliens we share the planet with. John Lilly, a cool enough guy, is the only one I know of who's tried to talk to dolphins.
Dolphins need talking to. There are legends about dolphins rescuing drowning people at sea. Every surfer has a story about some dolphin harassing or playing with them.
(Mine involved the dolphin with a nasty sense of humor. I was on dawn patrol when I saw a gray fin break the water line and come rushing at me. I pulled my feet up on the board and was getting ready to punch the shark in the nose . . . I read in a comic book or saw on TV about how sharks had real sensitive noses and you could not them out with the right punch! The fin submerged. I looked around fearfully and waited for panic when my board was suddenly capsized from underneath. I thought I was fish meat. When I broke the surface the dolphin was up there laughing at me. Laughing at me . . . he spent the day catching every wave I caught and being a real pain in the neck. He seemed to love it best when he could cut me off and create a wipe out . . .)
There an animal with intelligence, at least as much intelligence as the gorillas who've communicate pretty effectively with sign language.
We don't pay much attention to this except as freak show stuff, like the tic tac toe playing chicken. I think it makes us uncomfortable. We're not a very secure species, still clinging to the worries of survival and junk like it. We relate to animals best when we feel comfortably superior and can easily humanize them, at least to our conscious minds.
It seems easy to love something we are in total control of and can give ambiguous human traits to. Its a bit harder to love something that is alien to us. Like a dog.
When my little blind dog stares at the wall with a happy grin on his snuffling face he might not see the wall but I imagine he's got a world of other things to get so lost in. Smells that I can't guess at but that tell him stories and sing him songs. I'm sure he can hear noises that ell him absorbing dog stories, or else why is he so easy to startle when I call to him.
He likes to stay close to me because the other dogs don't tread on him. I'm the for sure alpha dog around this house anyway.
He knows I'm the source for food and pets. And in some canine way he loves me. That doesn't mean the blind little guy doesn't try and escape at every given opportunity. Not to run away but to go find new smells and to hear new things.
This is all the junk you think about on a rainy Sunday morning. Nasty cold day so that even the dogs don't want to go outside.
I need to heal. I think I've been tearing my body up pretty badly with all the yard work. My hamstrings are singing off key
Click images for desktop size: "Feeling My Age" by Anonymous arias to my calves and my hands are clenching and cramping begging to rest.
So it might be just time to watch a lot of movies. Consider finances.
I going to move the house internet connection from the monster monopoly phone company to an independent ISP . . . I'm nervous about this. The internet is the way I communicate, get information and survive and function, I think. Since were doing that we're also going to dump the land line and go to VOIP. I had Vonage before. The service was a tick better than acceptable. It would have been fine except the customer service department were the biggest jerks ever. Sales people should not be called customer service. It bothers me when I understand a tech better than the paid employees who are supposed to trouble shoot the problem, and keep wanting me to buy more services when I struggling with the existing services, but maybe this time it will be okay.
I have to figure out finances. Its a logistical issue with my credit cards and cash availalbe. Th savings become significant if I pay for a year in advance. I mean like over a grand for the year significant. But its hard to come up with the front money. Got to figure it out. Which isn't that big a deal. I just hope the service works well enough.
Other than that I plan to watch movies and sleep during most of the boring bits. I still haven't ordered or rented a movie through the AppleTV. It looks easy enough and maybe its time to try. The 99 cent movie special this week is "The Usual Suspects", which is entertaining enough and my eyes are bad enough to not remember enough of it so its a thought. Of course when I've got about 100 movies I haven't seen yet renting one just to check out the tech is a bit frivolous, even if it is only a buck . . .

Posted by David at 12:09 PM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Eight Bit Gaming" by Carlos Eduardo I've been to a lot of parties in my life. Mostly for business, at least that's what I told myself.
I've been to parties with A-List celebrities schmoozing in corners, while B-List celebs checked me out to see if I was worth talking to.
I've been at parties where I had no business being there. Where bands with a top ten single played on a tiny stage at the end of a pool, while an actress who was on the cover of that weeks people magazine, where she'd made a splash explaining why she'd never do a nude scene, danced languidly and nude ankle deep in water on the pool steps.
I've even been to a party at the Playboy Mansion, invited by Hefner's wife. We talked about dogs most of the time. My main memory was how they'd managed to find so many attractive young women who wanted to sleep with old. balding and pudgy men.
The better parties were the ones at the beach. Where we sacrificed surfboards for a bonfire and our brain cells to Micky's Big Mouthed Malt Liquor. We debauched ourselves until dawn in a vain hope that we could entice the Hawaiian god Huey to send us some tasty waves.
I've been to parties all over the world. Enjoyed myself in Milan where I was the only person there who didn't speak Italian and no one else spoke more than a phrase or two of English.
I go on about it so you understand that I have some sort of standard to gauge things against so that when I tell you the best party I've ever been to was last night. My best friend and four dogs.
We went to a restaurant and had french fries ala mode . . . My friend and I didn't, the dogs did. One of the pups was misbehaving moderately badly. He was just too cranked up at being outside and the idea of dining al fresco was too much for him. He took it upon himself to act as a guard to keep the gate crashers away. There were several. As they kept coming his voice got higher and shriller till. at the end, he no longer sounded like a giant beast but more like a yapping toy poodle!
My little blind dog took everything in stride. He was happy to be eating. He loves going out and was in full joy mode. He was having so much fun I didn't even think until now
Click images for desktop size: "Dolls" by Luis Royo how sad it is that he no longer has the endurance to take long walks around town.
The "Angel Dog" was delighted to be out and perplexed by it too. He insisted that his dinner be served to him by hand, on a plastic fork thank you. He graciously allowed my puppy to eat his dregs, a revolting looking melange of melted ice cream and brown gravy. My puppy licked it up like it were a special higher grade of ambrosia.
We spent the rest of the evening remembering, looking at souvenirs of the past 3 years. Like my mini-screwdriver set that our foster puppy Noelle chewed up. They still work well enough. My Armani prescription glasses that my puppy made into a mangled pile of wire. My souvenirs.
The only smudge on the entire day was a phone call from the vet's office. I'd made an appointment for the 4 guys to have a heart worm blood test, prior to getting them their heart worm medicine. They had told me it would be $32.50 per dog when I made the appointment, which is cool and reasonable. They called to say that price was a mistake and it would be nearly 90 bucks a dog instead!
One of my chores today is to find a saner vet.
My other chore is to put the finishing touches on the little sun garden. I feel good about this. It was mainly destruction and breaking stuff so its nice to see it completed and ready to be used.
I also have grandiose plans to help my puppy prepare her description of her birthday party. Too many emails demanding it!
As to me. I'm happy. I've settled into that weird crabbiness I'm prone to. I'm tired and a I have a horrid phobia about fatigue. I keep fearing that its the end of the remission. I have plenty of tests I run to remind me of the fine line between being tired, exhausted and fatigued. I'm fine.
I'm uncomfortable. I still have those times when I find anything touching painful and loathsome. They don't last long. Its just the general feeling of being uncomfortable physically. of feeling that itch in my bones makes me shorter than I'd like to be.

Posted by David at 9:48 AM | Permalink