A Muchness Of Me

All things of creation are children of the father and brothers of man. .. God wants to help animals, if they need help. Every creature in disgrace has the same right to be protected.St. Francis of Assisi

Thu, 16 May 2013 05:00:19 -0500

Today should have been Shelby's eighth birthday.
She's still gone. I still miss her and grieve for her everyday.

CISPA

Mon, 22 Apr 2013 10:08:11 -0500

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream Edgar Allan Poe

Sat, 20 Apr 2013 12:07:28 -0500

Patti Page-(How Much Is That) Doggy In The Window
Cat Stevens-I Love My Dog
Lolas-Plenty Of Dogs
Tampa Red-Let Me Play With Your Poodle
Ronnie Self-Ain't I'm A Dog
Nina Simone-Mr Bojangles
Candy Butchers-Call Off The Dogs
Don Woody-Bird Dog
Doughboys-Keep Your Dog Off Me
Dogs-Dog Walk
Soledad Brothers-Walkin' The Dog
Elvis Presley-Old Shep
Everley Brothers-Bird Dog
Delbert Barker-No Good Robin Hood
Astronauts-I'm Gonna Buy Me A Dog
John Entwhistle-Mad Dog
Junkyard Dogs-Born To Cry
Adam And The Ants-Dog Eat Dog
Chuckie Chandler and The Chandeliers-Rockin' Moondog
Mel Price-Little Dog Blues
Big Mamma Thorton-Hound Dog
Byrds-Old Blue
Who-Dogs
Gene Vincent-Bird Doggin'
Nomads-Call Off Your Dogs
Jeff Dahl Trio-I Wanna Be Your Dog
Cliff Johnson-Go Away Houndog
Rubinos-Cats And Dogs
Russ Tolman & The Totem Polemen-Portrait Of Blue
Marques Brothers-Let Me Play With Your Larse
Beach Boys-Wouldn't It Be Nice
Jackie Wilson-(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher And Higher
Patti Page-See That Doggie In The Shelter

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My puppy has been gone for 23 days. I still mourn her. I still miss her because every morning I wake up expecting to see her standing there ready for another day of adventure.
This podcast is not about her. Not that much. For nearly a year I've been gathering up songs about dogs. And I intentionally avoided things like the "Singing Dogs", which are cool in doses but pretty much just tedious.
The Patti Page bookend songs are pretty self explanatory as are the rest of them. A couple of the songs aren't so much about dogs but they are about my dogs, which makes their inclusion mandatory.
The Beach Boys and Jackie Wilson tracks are because that is how I feel about dogs. When my wife was in Canada and I was down here a neighbor asked my wife, "Where's that crazy guy who was always out in the yard dancing with the dogs?"
The crazy guy was me and the Beach Boys and Jackie Wilson were two of the guys we'd always dance to.

There's not been much to interest me. No great movies are startlingly great music. One thing of small interest is the resurgence of power pop. Radio 2 in Spain has even put together a string of shows featuring some of the old power pop bands! Since I either shared a stage with these guys or went to see them in the 80's I find them interesting. I do take a perverse pleasure in the fact that most of them have aged far worse than I have . . . It also brings that long held fantasy of a come back!
Then I read about another popster dying (Scot Miller of "Game Theory" being the latest) and I remember Peter Case lying in the hospital and I miss my puppy all over again.

It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane Philip K. Dick

Thu, 11 Apr 2013 10:33:39 -0500

We took a long trip this weekend. A trip we could not begin to afford. It was to look at dogs.
We went to the Aftershock Kennels. After a long tedious drive we arrived to doggie insanity. There were 30 to 40 of the dogs. It was a loud but delicate howling madness that made me smile.
We had to take the trip. We had to look at dogs. I've been miserable with constant pain in my chest that was worse than adolescent heartbreak. People kept trying to be kind but it never worked.
I've a friend who is a dog careerist - shelters, Animal Control, dog walking services and she said to me, "I've known hundreds, no, thousands of dogs and in my whole life I've never seen a dog so tightly bonded to anyone like Shelby was bonded to you. She lived her whole life for you."
Well, maybe.
But it misses the point that I loved her at least as much as others thought she loved me. I couldn't make Shelby do much of anything. She did things that would please herself and that would please us. We bickered a lot. She was smart and headstrong. But people are still stopping me on the street to tell me how wonderful Shelby was, they all wanted dogs as well trained as Shelby. They don't understand Shel and me.
For years to strangers I was the guy with "the big black dog". To which I could only respond, "You mean my little girl?" Shelby always seemed to know many more people than I did.
I've always heard how hard it is too train Belgian Sheepdogs. I've never had that problem or any of the scary issues that people describe. I think it was because they wanted an elegant show piece of a dog, one who compliments the wardrobe. (Don't smirk. Every breeder has a story about someone returning an adult dog because it clashed with the new decor.)
Belgians take advantage of anything - poor locks, ambivalent orders, weakness. Who really wouldn't? But, I think, that if you approach things as equals, as two living things who are sharing a space and that each of you has differing responsibilities and responsibilities to each other, things seem to go fine. Just fine.
So in a car that needs 4 new tires; a car filled with 2 people and 2 dogs, all badly in search of a new home, we took off to the Aftershock Kennels. It was a mildly uneventful trip, filled mainly with my anxiety at the cost of gas and lodging and my constant barrage of thoughts about how stupid this trip was. No one and no thing could ever replace Shelby. I live with four dogs already. I have a wife who depends on me for somethings. Why did I feel the overwhelming need to fill the Belgian sized hole in my heart?
The next day we arrived at the kennel. It was rather glorious and strange.
The dogs were a fantasy. I have never seen so many gorgeous dogs all together in my life. Thy barked a great melange of warnings and welcomes.
It was a bright and sunny day. The closest I've seen of spring this year. The GPS sent us in the weird route over hilly dirt and gravel roads. I assumed we were hopelessly lost when we topped a hill and all you could see were fences and Belgian Terv's.
There was an electric gate. We watched it roll back as we sat in the car. We congratulated each other and the TomTom for finding the place. The first dog to come greet us was quiet and definitely not a Belgian. It was some sort of funny cross between a labrador and a corgi! It paddled up on its short legs and tried to lead the way to parking.
The lab-corgi was named Labby. She was a rescue that had been hit on the road. Labby showed no sign of the accident. It was funny seeing this squat bright black creature keeping the pack of Belgians in line! Funnier because Labby took her job so seriously. She easily climbed 5 foot gates and scampered around tending her herd of Belgian charges. The Belgians accepted her!
We spent four hours in the bright sun looking at Belgian Tervurens form 2 weeks old up to 15 years old. We were never offered a drink of water or a place to sit. It didn't much matter.
An 8 week old mail, bigger than the litter and the only one whose ears weren't fully erect yet, fell in love with my wife. He followed her around just like a puppy dog, through all the distractions and play attacks he clung to her.
My wife claimed that it was because she was the only one of us to sit on the ground. While its true the other puppies and dogs took her low position as something to explore the big flop eared puppy was there before she sat and continued to follow her even when it came time for us to leave. He got stuck under the fence trying to get next to her. He took that good naturedly and was happy so long as he had my wife's attention. It was clumsy love, but it was love.
There were only two dogs that seemed potential to us. Not including the puppy. One was a two year old with a silver face and black veil and red body. She was supposed to be living in Japan as a foundation dam but the owner fouled up the export/import paperwork so her she stayed. She was a very reserved girl, even for a Belgian. She was also very quiet and very tender. Her confirmation was impeccable and she had the sturdy bone structure with a fine elegance. She was loving without being pushy. A magnificent dog who wanted to be part of a pack that valued her and what she could bring. I thought she could do anything she dreamed of. Her name is Boudicca. Boudicca was a Celtic warrior queen. That appealed to my wife who doesn't know too many warrior queens but believes herself to be Celtic.
The other girl who caught our eye was called "The Beetle". She was beautiful and tender; mahogany red with a light black veil and deep deep eyes that carried Beetle's message that she craved to be held as a special being. Beetle had one issue she has some sort of neurological dysfunction, maybe a brain issue so she moves rather clumsily. She lived in a paddock with the primary sire of the kennel. He cared for her but never coddled her. Clearly he thought she was fine and could make do on her own. That meant a lot.
We came home with no dogs except the two poodles we brought with us. I needed to think about it. I needed to assess the insanity of my plans. And I had to consider whether a Brown dog could ever fit into the space left by a black dog. And most importantly I had to consider whether I could give these two girls or that baby boy the love, attention they deserved and the finery and food and comforts they need.
My job might have finally ended! After several false stops it should be finally over. Unemployed due to the Supreme Court. Yow! Cool.

There are no goodbyes for us. Wherever you are, you will always be in my heart. Gandhi

Sat, 30 Mar 2013 11:23:56 -0500

I miss my little dog.
It is causing me terrible pain, as bad as when my first wife and my son died. It is a different pain but it feels like my soul his being slowly ripped through a hole in my chest. I can't think of her without tears. I can't talk about her because I choke up and the pain gets so bad I almost wish for a heart attack. I get angry because no one cares enough that a great living thing so full of love has been ripped so unfairly away.
People wish me condolences on the loss of my daughter. She was never my daughter. It was more important than that. Shelby was my dog and I was her boy. We weren't family, we weren't codependent, we took care of each other and taught each other and cared for each other.
The only reason I could afford Shelby was because she failed her puppy temperament test. The first time we met each other she bit me. Drew blood. Then she laid on my foot and then sat calmly in and out of my lap.
That night I had as luxurious crate prepared for her as I could afford. She'd have none of it and cried until I let her out. She dragged herself into the bed and slept on the pillow next to my face. In the morning she used the crate as her toilet until I dragged her outside.
The day the breeder, Julie, took Shelby and I to the dog park with Shelby's mother and her Uncle Hank. A last romp and a goodbye for when Shelby's family said goodbye.
Shelby ran to her mother , Reina. Reina rejected her aggressively. Julie explained that was normal and Reina was just telling her it was time for Shelby to make her way in the world.
What everyone noticed was that instead of running to someone familiar she ran to me.
And that was how it started. For the next 8 years every time I looked down I saw Shelby looking back at me, always laughing, always ready with a dog joke to tell me or pull on me.
Living in a big city I know that everyone has hundreds of great stories about their dogs. So do I. Too many.
Every day with Shelby was an adventure. Every walk was an odyssey of excitement. The day we saw the giant opossum, and watched a rabbit and a crow have a fight. Or discovered dinosaur bones, and dinosaurs and ducks. And when she met her best friend, the little blind dog, Ben, the two of them made discoveries unheard of.
I suppose Shelby's biggest accomplishment was becoming a therapy dog. It was my idea. I thought she could use the training. She was just over a year old when she started and she was terrible. She wanted to play with everybody. I thought she was terrific any time she completed an exercise. The trainers were charmed by Shelby, so charmed that it compelled them to not throw us out of the class.
I didn't expect Shelby to graduate. I was surprised that during the final exam she not only did well she had top grades. She was so gentle they asked if she could work with children.
Thinking of her then shunts my pain aside. She was amazing. Playing with the children was fun for her and she worked hard at it. She bought a new joy to the children. Some of those kids remembered Shelby as giving them their last smiles. The children would come to my work to visit Dr Shelby. Many cars would pull over when we were walking so that parents and children could come and say hello to the Dr Shelby.
It was when she did her serious work in the oncology ward that she amazed me, me who already thought she could do anything. She walked the hospital hallway, quietly, calmly, wended her way past gurneys and nurses until she came to an open door. She'd stare into the room for a moment and make her decision to either enter or go to the next room. I tried not to peek into the rooms. It was her time. People would talk to me about Shelby but they weren't really talking to me. They wanted to talk to her and didn't know how to talk to a dog.
Around then I felt like I should get back into coaching. Of course, Shelby came with me to every practice and she was on the sidelines for every game. In our second year the team got to State; at the football banquet the players voted Shelby their favorite coach.
I just now moved my chair and I remember how she always watched over me. Even when I was in hospital. At night she stayed as close to me as possible. Even when she was sick she always pressed though the pack to get to see me first to make sure I was all right. She loved me enough to tolerate the 14 foster dogs I bought into her life. She didn't like all of them. She wanted them to follow the rules, her rules mainly. But she endured them even if sometimes I did get "looks".
Her last three weeks were terrible but she was always loving. I have to walk the five dogs 3 or 4 times a day. I have to make 3 trips. Shelby always insisted on making all the trips with me. She would walk with me or in front of me and the other dogs. As she sickened she started walking 5 or ten feet behind us. She started to walk with her head low, she began sitting and lying down in an untypical way.
We took her to the vet for her annual exam. When they drew blood for her panel her blood was not red but rusty brown. They tested it and her blood count was 12. We began a treatment of massive minocyclin and predosterone (a steroid). Shelby was not responding well, even though her blood count did rise an insignificant amount.
At home she still insisted she go out with me at any opportunity. She wanted me close to her. She slept in the living room. She liked the cold air blowing on her from our drafty front door.
We have to climb a hill to get to the street. When she could no longer climb the hill she figured out another pathway. In a few days even the other path was too difficult. I stopped taking the other guys up the hill and she would slowly follow us around the back yard.
Even after her blood count held steady she was weakening. She started to refuse to eat. But even till the end she always wanted her cookies. She could move fast for a pizza slice! Every time she took a cookie I had hope.
Every night she still found the strength to come and trick me and play jokes on me. She'd put her big old paw on me and make me pet her. She used her paw to direct me to her tummy. She loved her tummy rubs. She was always smiling the same way she smiled at life.
Dr Karen decided we should start to cut back and wean Shelby off some of the drugs, to see if they could be hurting her appetite and energy. To try and be certain what was ehrlichia and what might be a side effect.
Shelby got worse. I took her to work with me. She enjoyed herself immensely but I was tortured thinking that I was putting too much strain on her.
One funny thing she did at work: Shelby always kept a time limit on how long I was able to be out of her sight. I had to step out of the office. I was bent over working on a computer when I was suddenly poked in my butt. I jerked around and there was Shelby all over joyed with herself for finding me.
When she was a puppy we always played hide and seek. She remembered.
Of course all my customers were screaming about the dangerous looking wolf-dog running around on the loose. Shelby and I didn't care about them. She was just happy to win our game. I was happy that she still wanted to laugh and joke.
We got home that night and Shelby was worsening. She still insisted on coming outside with each of the other dogs but she struggled badly. She was searching for an easier way to get down the gentle slope into the backyard. The search was to hard so she just sat and laughed at me trying to walk the other dogs without her help.
Tuesday she looked too weak to come to work with me. The day at work was miserable without her. When I got home she didn't have the strength to push to the front of the pack. I pretended not to notice for her sake.
Wednesday we went to the Vet hospital. She was moving so slow. She still wouldn't eat.
In the car she wouldn't lie down or sit. I sat terrified that this would be our last car ride together.
At the hospital she still gobbled up every cookie I offered her. She could barely walk. We could only get about 10 yards at a go. She'd take a break, make me pet her and then continue on another 10 yards.
After 90 minutes we finally got to talk to the Doctor. The Doctor was pregnant. The Doctor still sat on the floor, putting her hand on Shelby's back. Shelby did not try and move away from her.
The Doctor laid out the plan of attack on the ehrlichia. Shel's blood count was stable so the first thing was to check her reticulites. Which is how many blood cells she is producing. Then if the reticulates were low we would have to do a bone marrow aspiration!! I've had several of those and they are up in the top 10 of excruciating pains.
I listened to all this like a petrified log. I led Shelby back into the hospital proper. I got them to give her a run so she could look around and lay out easily. When I left I looked back. Shelby was looking at me with a scared panic free face. She wouldn't follow the hospital tech until I broke off eye contact.
We waited two hours for the reticulate readings. When they came back they were good, very good. She needed a 60,000 and she got a 200,000! So no bone marrow tests!
The decision was to give her two units of blood and then to do x-rays and a sonogram to try and pin point where she was loosing all the blood she was producing. They let us see her in the run. She was dangling tubes and such. I watched the blood pump labor away while I thought of teasing her about spying on her.
Even with just 1 unit of blood in her Shel was more alert, lying down but with her head up. She watched everything.
The blood transfusion took all night. I went home and showed great discipline. I only called 3 times. Shelby was always doing fine. In the morning she refused food but she did go for a walk and she defecated.
About 8 am the hospital called and said Shelby's blood count was 22! Still far from ideal but higher than they had hoped for!
Around 10 they called me to recite the bill and to ask my permission to do the x-rays and ultrasound test. Again she was doing great. Standing and watching everything going on. She commented on how well behaved and gentle Shelby was.
My heart was singing.
At 12:10 PM Thursday the Doctor called. She said a lot of blow softening stuff I couldn't focus on. At 12:02 Shelby stood up and gave a short howl and then collapsed.
They had tried twice to resuscitate her via chemicals and electricity. They were still doing CPR but she was not responding.
I asked them to stop the CPR. After 10 minutes I thought it was hopeless and a miracle resurrection
would still leave her brain damaged.
My wife and I got there as soon as we could. They put us in an examination room and wheeled Shelby in on a cart. When I touched her all that fur made her feel warm. When I had my first two heart attacks Shelby and I were foolishly separated for a few months. When we were reunited she didn't run and jump into my arms; she snapped at me and tried to run away. She thought I was a ghost returned from the grave. When she saw that I was flesh she was back to leaning on me and demanding I scratch her butt. When I felt her warm fur I thought she was going to jump up and yell at me, "Now you know how it feels!"
It would have been a great joke. But it wasn't a joke.
I could still feel that Shelby was there. Probably why it felt confusing. I told her she was a good girl and that she would always be my dog.
I asked the Doctor about her howl. I wanted to make sure it was or was not her emergency howl for me to come rescue her. It didn't sound like it was. It sounded like Shelby was caught unawares and surprised. It was an inarticulate utterance caused by a blood clot from brain suddenly dislodging and striking her brave little heart.
They had covered Shel with a blanket. I pulled it back and saw the weariness of her battle, the two places where they'd shaved for the catheter and how they'd shaved her stomach below her heart.
I rubbed her tummy telling her she was a good girl and that I loved her. More than even a cookie she loved being called a good girl. She hated being called a bad girl and would argue if she thought it was undeserved.
At first her tummy felt like it was Shelby but abruptly it felt like something gray and dead. It was then I realized that Shelby had finally left.
We're having her cremated. We'll pick up her ashes next week.
Shelby would not be happy at Rainbow Bridge. She wouldn't run and play. She would only sit and wait for me.
If you believe in reincarnation I can't imagine a higher life form for her to evolve into. She loved who she was and it was as close to perfection as any of us could want.
She was the greatest dog in the world. She was my dog. I was her boy.
If you can't understand that. I've nothing to say.
If you do understand and are jealous I understand. I'm jealous of the me that was.
She was 7 years old. Nearly 8. She did nothing but brighten the world for a lot of people but mainly she illuminated my world. It seems even darker now without her in it. It's not fair to her.
One thing did happen. My wife locked her keys in the car at the hospital. We had to call a locksmith. He was there in about 5 minutes. I don't know how we must have looked; while he was getting into the car he told us about his 13 year old pit bull who was the glue of his family. He then said, "No charge."

God must have needed him a good dogSteve McQueen "Soldier In The Rain"

Thu, 28 Mar 2013 17:56:31 -0500

Shelby, my puppy, passed away today at 12:02 PM.
It was surprising only because she had been showing so much improvement. After enduring 2 units of blood in a transfusion all her vital signs showed marked improvement. There were signs that this was going to be treatable or at least manageable.
But then she suddenly let off a strangled howl and collapsed, dead.
After 10 minutes of CPR there was no response. I asked them to stop as even if she miraculously survived after that time she surely would have been brain damaged.
I will miss her. So will many others.
She was the greatest dog in the world.

Even a man who is pure of heart and says his prayers each night Clifford Siodamak - "The Wolfman"

Sat, 23 Mar 2013 12:00:56 -0500

Click images for desktop size: "Creepy 1966" by Frank Frazetta My puppy has a heart murmur and she has anemia.
It's bad. What makes it somehow worse is that it comes from a disease called Ehrlichia.

Ehrlichia canid infection in dogs is divided into 3 clinicopathologic stages:

acute phase of disease:
fever, anorexia, lethargy
lymphadenopathy
thrombocytopenia
This phase begins 1-3 weeks after exposure.

Most dogs recover at this point, but others progress to the subacute and chronic phases subacute phase of disease:
hypergammaglobulinemia (polyclonal or sometimes monoclonal gammopathy), thrombocytopenia and anemia usually subclinical, but can last months to years

chronic phase:
lethargy, weight loss
PANCYTOPENIA, BONE MARROW SUPPRESSION AND HEMORRHAGE
Mortality can be high in dogs that progress to the chronic stage of disease.
Three hundred military dogs were lost to this "Tropical Canine Pancytopenia" form of ehrlichiosis during the Vietnam War. Progression to subacute and chronic disease is generally attributed to an ineffective immune response on the part of the dog. German Shepherd dogs appear to be predisposed to the severe, chronic form of disease.

It kind of sucks to be my puppy right now. If nothing else, I love her. I can only hope that means
Click images for desktop size: "Transformer" by Unknown something to her. I think it does. It could just be my massive ego but she still wants to keep me in eyesight.
My puppy has even figured out new paths and methods to keep me in sight which reduce the stress on her little body. When we walk up the hill to the street for our walks she insists on coming along on all three trips. Instead of bouncing up the hill and vaulting the retaining walls like usual she's figured out a path that she can make in her own plodding style.
When I walk the other dogs she lets me go to where she knows I'll have to turn around. She will stand there and wait for me to come back. If I move five feet further away than normal she adjusts and waits.
So the flesh is weak but her mind is strong.
Her initial blood test showed her with a 12% blood count. It should be around 36%. My own blood count once fell to 5%meds but and they were writing me off then. I know how uncomfortable a 12% can be.
We started her on a massive program of antibiotics and steroids. My puppy showed all the side effects of the meds but no real improvements. In fact she seemed to be going downhill.
I took her to work with me to monitor her. She watched me closer than I monitored her! If I left my office door open she'd very slowly follow me out and just trudge along until she found me. When she did find me she would just laugh at me.
I took my puppy back in Friday for another blood test. This time the blood count was 14% but her protein count was down from 6.7 to 6.
Those 2 points caused my heart to flutter. It could be a false hope due to the various testing methods used. But they can't take way that she at least is not getting worse.
Ehrlichia is a tick born disease. Like lyme disease and Rocky Mountain Fever it comes from being
Click images for desktop size: "Concerti Vivaldi" by MA Parkes bitten by a tick.
I'm still trying to figure out what purpose ticks serve in ecology. I wonder about that a lot less then I wonder how to get revenge on a phylum.
Most of you know that my big prayer has always been for me to live one day longer than my puppy. Even though she showed that she can survive far better without me than I can without her.
I wish I'd never offered that prayer. I'm wondering now if she's just trying to keep pace with me; as if I'd given her a command to go first.
I've been having a lot of warning sign, signs I'm constantly on alert for: Constantly dropping things - explained away as a side effect to the frozen right shoulder and football neck injury
Thinning hair - I'm getting older aren't I?
Odd wounds that don't heal - I have a few in my scalp. My wife examined them and said they looked like bug bites.
Fatigue - I've got a burdensome loathsome job and five dogs to care for.
They did a blood work on me a couple of weeks ago. I got the call yesterday that I need to go in for some more blood tests.
Lost 25 lbs since November - My wife moved in. New living arrangement and eating habits change. And there's been a lot of stress with her family, house and friends. It all effects me. Four pounds a month is not what anyone would call a massive weightless now, is it?
I sort of blew it off. I was feeling okay and had a good explanation for what was going on in me, but last night it was an herculean task to lift a dog bowl of food and stir it up. I wrote it off as using my bad right hand but it was just as impossible with my left.
I got it done because me and my puppy do share that. We just keep on going till we get there.
I might be coming out of remission, but then again, I might not.

If you check the podcast button at the top of the menu you'll find the latest. I'll have another one up this week.
After that will come the tribute to summer and then the tribute to dogs, with every dog song I could find that is cool and or crazy.

Just because the biggest fool in the world says the sun will rise tomorrow don't expect the sun to malinger to spite the fool

Fri, 01 Mar 2013 22:30:59 -0500

Click images for desktop size: "The Blue Beetle" by Unknown Before I was a teen I wrote an article about The Flash for a fanzine called Rocket Blast Comic Collector. At 11 I didn't see much difference between fanzines and magazines or between high school athletes and major league players.
There was no pay for the article. It never occurred to me that people would pay you for writing words. I was disappointed, not by the lack of money but by the response of the publisher. I thought I'd written the greatest love song to The Flash imaginable. All I got was an index card that said, "Good article." It wasn't even signed!
I was irked.
I found out a few years later that the fellow who published the Rocket Blast was 19. He had cystic fibrosis. He was in a wheel chair and he did all of his typing by holding the pencil in his teeth and punching the keys on an IBM Selectric one at a time with the pencil.
Inside I discovered what the word churlish meant and wondered how you could apologize for unspoken irkedness.

That fanzine is a funny thing to have pop into my mind. Tomorrow the team I assisting coaching with are playing for the league championship.
I wouldn't expect anyone to be surprised at this except this is a basketball team . . .
Rah!
They've tried to throw our team out of the league. They tried to throw the head coach I'm mentoring out of the league. The HC is 23 years old and this is the first time he's ever coached. He made mistakes but they were all forgivable ones. I came down on him harder than they did.
They tried to throw one of our players out of the league. He's a warrior, so you know I like him. He plays basketball and he also plays baseball for his high school team. So I double like him.

Click images for desktop size: "Medusa" by Boris Vallejo If we win the championship they want me to accept the trophy and make a speech. I'm pretty sure they expect me to rail against the league and the shabby way we feel we've been treated by them. What I'll probably say is something like championships are a rare thing to play for, and rarer to win. How many people ever get the chance to say I did my best and my best was enough.
The greatest man I ever met was the late Coach Eddie Robinson. He was the football coach at Grambling who for a while had more victories than any coach in NCAA history.
Coach Robinson told me how he used to have to mark out the field and place the line markers before games. While he was doing this he realized how much he loved coaching. He said to love coaching you had to love the athletes you taught. In later years he realized that to merely be a decent coach you had to love your players.
I turned this into my own bromide I constantly preach, "No coach ever won a game and no player ever lost a game."
To me that means the joy a coach receives is consummate to the way his players perform and behave. That is a game is lost because a guy loses his temper and gets ejected it is up to the coach to teach the player to keep his temper, to find out what burns inside of him to the point of bad behavior. If a game is lost it's because the coach hasn't taught the player how to make the play. He hasn't given the player the tools to succeed.
It's the coaches job to instill the desire to improve and to learn and study enough of the game to know what to teach the players and how to teach them.

Click images for desktop size: "Film Fun" by Bolles When the team wins it is the players who strived, who pushed themselves to places that they had never imagined they could enter, accomplish dreams that they never knew they were capable of. All the coach can do is be proud that he is associated with them.
That's why winning is only important in that it gives us the chance to see what we can accomplish.
Each of the players, the ones on our team and the ones we competed against has improved this season. I've seen it from all of you and I was proud of all of you, proud to play against you and to play with you.
Or something like that. Hopefully better than that.

The gentle dog had his surgery to remove a nasty tumor. The word today is that he is, for now, cancer free. There's still some small worries ahead but he's still feeling fine enough to bite me every chance he gets.
The deaf dog is doing fine after her second heart worm treatment. She absolutely refuses to lie quiet and calm for a month . . .
Giant dog still wants to kill deaf dog and is incredibly jealous of all the attention gentle dog is receiving after his surgery.
Criminal dog is still laughing at us all.
And my puppy is still grumpy and still in love with me.

The last podcast is still available up ion the title bar menu. It seems sort of redundant to keep reposting the thing here.
I'll have the 10th one ready this week. I'm surprised that they're popular. Very perplexing to me. I figured a half dozen people would care and didn't worry about it. It looks like about 500 downloads each so far. I'm surprised is all.
Of course the only questions I receive about them are on the order of what kind of gear do I listen to this music through. Mostly homemade stuff, or hand built if you want to sound fancy . . .

I've disabled comments again. Too much spam, like in the tens of thousands a day. Jerks.

I'd rather sing one wild song and burst my heart with it, than live a thousand years watching my digestion and being afraid of the wet Jack London

Sun, 27 Jan 2013 12:23:53 -0500

Click images for desktop size: "Beacon" by Darcy There's been a lot going on. Too much really, and all that sort of stuff that to understand this story I have to tell you this other story first and then this other story third.
There's the old sufi story, "When sewn into a bag of oats one can panic or one can be like the mouse and slowly eat your way out." Or one can think about other great stories and the state of the world. Hence, here's my list of the five greatest American novels.

The Long Goodbye by Raymond Chandler - To me, this is still the greatest American novel. It doesn't explain the world just the fabric and soul of a nation as encapsulated within Los Angeles. As everyone knows, as Hollywood goes so goes the world. In this story about friendship and devotions all the people are portrayed as human, faces loved by someone. Everyone has dreams, desires and a trace of nobility if one is open enough to see it. Even the evil and contemptible offer something glorious to the world and if you can't see it then it is because of the evil in you. There's plenty of politics here, all of the self serving and corrupt type. Politics makes even men of vision and hope finally succumb to the weariness of this world till they become as callous and embittered as the evil they seek to destroy.
Robert Altman made of movie of this. It was terrible beyond believe.

The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck - Sadly, almost ridiculously this book is more pertinent today then it was to its contemporaries. The only thing is that the "bosses" have gotten more corrupt, more clever, and more ruthless and more heartless. This story holds up to the light the evil we have accepted and come to envy. How we have forgotten the Populism and drive that led us to love our fellow man is made clear in the way minor characters in the story are now harbingers of a grim future as apocalyptic as any cheesy sci-fi novel's worst dreamings.
It's a story of people. The Joads are easy to identify with, in their simplicity, dumbness and urge to survive. That life is a black top highway is common knowledge to all of us from the
Click images for desktop size: "Beauty Admiring a Warbler in a Plum Tree" by Tsuki Setti Far West.
This book is so full of story and people that just skimming the film from the top of it like the skin from a hot cocoa gives enough material to make a great movie. And that happens so seldom except with those heavy Russian novels that are portentous and no fun at all.
This book entertains, horrifies and educates. Looking at the past we can see our present and foretell the future. Politics, yeah we got it by the bucketful, and it's the politics we wish didn't exist.

The Journal of Albion Moonlight by Kenneth Patchen - America wasn't a superpower yet. Believing in her was betting on the underdog, the mongrel. It's easy now to be a jingoist xenophobia. We won and now we're fading out to join those other great empires of the past.
Patchen's novel takes the same journey as the Joads took in Grapes of Wrath, but it is a different highway through a different country side. One where Adolph Hitler and Jesus Christ are hitchhikers riding in the same back seat of the same old Buick. And Hitler and Christ are only incidental characters we note almost in passing.
It's a violent uncompromising vision of America. Accurate too. Right up to the final disintegration.

The Naked Lunch by William Burroughs - We need great books that make us laugh out loud. I first read this is high school. I passed it along to my friends and before long the entire team was yelling quotes at each other in the hallways and classrooms. We gave certain teachers and coaches nick names based on characters in the novel. Now I wonder what the school thought about their best, handsomest champions shouting out things like :I am the great Slashtubitch. You cannot fake the orgasm on me. I can tell if you come by the wiggle of your big toe."
They made a weirds movie of this book, by David Cronenberg. The movie wasn't great at all. The novel is and will take you to an America ruled by caricatures who give into their basest desires and then put off the evil and monstrosities as being for our own good.

Ironweed by William Kennedy - The story of a second baseman.
They made a movie of this book. When they announced it I said to people that it could be a great movie so long as they didn't cast Jack Nicholson and Meryl Streep in it. So of course it starred Jack Nicholson and Meryl Streep and of course it sucked.
This is an amazing book.

This is the latest podcast. I'm still surprised that there are as many downloads of these as there are. Who knows why.
I'm proud of this one. It's what I wanted my wife's birthday podcast to sound like.

The Cool and The Crazy 8
Schooldays: LA

Travoltas - Endless Summer
Plimsouls - Good Times
Dorktones - Everlasting Love
Ramones - She's A Sensation
Third Bardo -Five Years Ahead Of My Time
Florian Munday & The Mundos - Rip It Up
Mink Jaguar - Red Queen
Boss Martians = Hey Hey Yeah Yeah
Bill Loyd - Trampoline (alt)
Wet Willie - Shout Bamalama
Exciters - Tell Him (unedited)
Red Cross - Yesterday Once More
Chesterfield Kings - Somewhere Nowhere
Jello Biafra - Convoy In The Sky
Teen Machine - Bitchin' Camaro
Crimson Ghost - Attitude
Trashmen - My Woodie
Astronauts - Our Car Club
DiMaggio Brothers - Every Breath You Take
Bob Dylan - You Belong To Me
Eddie Cochran - My Way
Big Daddy - Eye Of The Tiger
Everly Brothers - Gone, Gone, Gone
Blasters - Samson And Delilah
Outsiders - Time Won't Let Me
Brogues - I Ain't No Miracle Worker
Plan 9 - I'm Not There
King - Come As You Are
Herb - The Work Song
Yep - Waterloo Sunset
Come Ons - Strangelove
Toxic Audio - Lean On Me

She was ready to deny the existence of space and time rather than admit that love might not be eternalSimone de Beauvoir

Sat, 12 Jan 2013 00:40:23 -0500

Click images for desktop size: "Admiral Skull" by Frank HamiltonI'm going to have to remove all the mp3's from the site.
I've spent a lot of energy in not monetizing this site. And I get approached a lot. I find it strange. I mean I track the 100 or so visitors that come here a day. I don't track them but I like the little counter at the bottom of the page. It counts the number of people who come here to the front page and that manages to exclude the number of google image searches and the ilk. I like to think of people enjoying the pretty pictures but i don't feel the need to count them. Some people do though. I guess if you count the people I don't know the site has about 47,000 visits a day. Which is still not that many.
That also doesn't count robots. Little apps that crawl the whole structure of the site. I have most robots turned off in robot.txt but , of course, complying with robot.txt is voluntary.
About a half dozen of these robots are looking for mp3's. Which is no big deal except these robots generate html links to sites that sell the mp3's for money. Which I think is creepy and wrong. But what bugs me is that they never asked me or even told me what they were doing and a few of their rather lazy customers assume that I get a cut or get pay from these sites!!
I think there are enough places in this world who view the world as a walking wallet and enough people conniving how best to extract money from you. I wanted to make sure that this thing of mine was a haven from that. It's the point, among a myriad million other diffuse points, of this thing.
So I guess the best thing is just to delete the mp3's.
The podcasts stay though. No one has figured out to extract money from them yet!

It's been a bad week for me. I hope for no one else. I had to go back to work. Bad news. I live in a "Right to Work" state. That means workers have no rights. I mean none. Not even the right to a
Click images for desktop size: "A Letter" by Vargas coffee break or a lunch 15 minutes. No rights whatsoever. And plenty of employers who contrive to exploit that.
Our new little white puppy had to go in for heart worm treatment. I once had another little girl who died of heart worm so I'm a bit obsessive about it. They inject the dog with arsenic to kill the heart worm. They use long needles in the lumbar region. Then it's important, as in life or death important, that the little girl stay as quiet and as unexcited as possible for two months!
The first night the little girl cried woefully and it agony all night. The next day she had to be rushed to the vet. It seemed she was having a bad reaction to the pain killer she gets for the heart worm treatment.
That night the giant (100 lb. plus) dog broke through the baby gate and attacked the little girl. She had to rush to the emergency vet. Three hundred bucks and a lousy patch up job later and she was still alive and all right and probably regretting ever being "rescued".
She's such a sweet and gentle thing she bears no grudge or anger. She tore me up pretty badly but that was always just her panic and pain. The pain she did to my body was minor to the pain and guilt I felt for letting her down and being remiss in protecting her.
She smiled at me today and that makes it better.
I'm still angry with giant dog.

This is a failed podcast. I wanted to tell an emotional story to celebrate my wife's birthday. Somehow it comes off as just a bit of an uptempo mess that's pretty much subject to incorrect interpretation. But there's some great tunes here and you can dance to it. And, get right down to it all these podcasts are for my wife anyway.

The Cool and The Crazy 7
Lady, That's My Skull

Gene Pitney & George Jones - I've Got $5 And It's Saturday Night
Shonen Knife - Bitzkrieg Bop
Ricky Nelson - There's Good Rockin' Tonight
Bob Luman - Let's Think About Living
Strangeloves - I Want Candy
Elvis Brothers - Motormouth
Wanda Jackson - Riot In Cell Block Number 9
Beat Farmers - Hollywood Hills
Preston Epps - Bongo Rock
Buckinghams - I Call Your Name
Phantom Rocker & Slick - My Mistake
Adam Schmitt - Can't Get You On My Mind
Spirit Of Troy - Hang On Sloopy
Boss Hoss - Go! Go! Go!
Travoltas - Barbra Ann
Me First & The Gimmee Gimmees - Sloop John B
Los Planatronics - Shape Of Things To Come
Del Shannon= Reason To Believe
Starry Eyed & Laughing - Chimes Of Freedom
Byrds - 5D
Dl Byron - Listen To The Heartbeat
Downbeat 5 - Dum Dum Ditty
Roy Orbison - You Got It
Trashmen - New Generation
Weird Al Yankovic - Canadian Idiot
Boss Martians - She Moves Me
Equals - Police On My Back
Bomboras - David's Mood
Jigsaw Seen - The Daily Planet
Gene Pitney - It's Over

Podfeed.net
iTunes

My experience of life is that it is not divided up into genres; it’s a horrifying, romantic, tragic, comical, science-fiction cowboy detective novel. You know, with a bit of pornography if you're lucky Alan Moore

Sat, 15 Dec 2012 10:41:12 -0500

Click images for desktop size: "Bettie Page" by Dave StevensThere was a Christmas I remember. It was years ago, back when the world was larger and death and destruction were out there but we were having too much fun to care.
I had my first car, a '49 Pontiac with an amber Indian;s head on the hood. That Indian Head added at least 5 hp at least. It was 6 AM Christmas morning. I was old enough to have a car but young enough to get up at ^ AM Christmas morning. I threw my board in the car (a 6' 2" twin fin) in the back and headed to Malibu because it was Christmas and it was Malibu.
It was warm enough to need just a vest. There were no suntans blowing but it was still 4 foot and glassy. There were about 6 guys out so after an hour I decided to head up to Mummies which is a nice peeling left that ends in a back crushing shore break. I had a great time having the beach to myself. It was getting about noon and I was hungry for food and company so I headed up the coast and County Line.
County Line is the border between Los Angeles and Ventura County so you unfortunates who don't surf can follow and not feel left out.
County Line is a cruddy beach but real accessible by car. It's just a beach break but just across Highway 101 is Neptune's Net. Neptune's Net is a landmark, a place where the surfers mingle with the surfers and the dazed tourists who don't understand but want to.
You can get anything you want at Neptune's Net, so long as its beer or can be fried or steamed. Bob Dylan built a mansion up at Point Dume, he came in there. So did Roger McGuinn. Neil Young hung around Zuma and he'd be there sometimes. Lots of stars and celebrities, surfers and bikers. It was the where Messiahs went when they needed to relax.
It was Christmas so Neptune's Net was closed. There were still about 20 people there hanging in the parking lot and using the picnic tables: Malibu Max and Malibu Mike (who weren't related) a few kids like me, a couple of unaffiliated bikers and more girls and women then men and boys. There were a couple of CHP Interceptors and the cops in uniform were lost in the good times. People were
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Unknownplaying dominos, drinking beer and having a pretty good time.
Someone had a key (I told you it was that kind of place) and soon we were eating oysters on the half shell. The steamer was going so we were eating prawns as long as your hand. The guitars were out and it was a fine old Christmas party.
When suddenly a flock of birds flew overhead. It was a big flock and they were flying low. A flock of Blue And Gold Macaws. About 30 of these massive birds flew over our heads. Thirty of the largest flying birds, as big as eagles.
LA is warm enough to surf on Christmas but it's not tropical and parrots are not natives. And County Line is not very rural and it's not the jungle. Malibu Max explained to me that they were exotic pets that had escaped from their homes. The owners had let their clipped wings grow back in so the birds just took off and then they had found each other.
They looked magnificent with their vibrant colors blocked against the verdant sky. Years later I'd see the flock in LA, dive bombing the towers in Century City or cruising the dome in Griffith Park.
The flock seemed to be eternal, sometimes large and sometimes small. It doesn't pay to think about the birds too much. Like I said, LA isn't tropical, it doesn't have the food those big birds need. There's avocado trees, some figs and some citrus. At night they have to sleep in the palm trees and fight with the tree rats to get some rest. They're not bright and shiny except when they're high up in the sky. They don't return him either. They stay in their flock and survive, survive for about 5% of their 80 to 100 year natural life span.
They'd rather live like vagabonds in an alien place then live on perches or caves. That's LA for you, I guess.
I didn't know any of that stuff then. I only knew I;d seldom seen anything so pretty as that flock of birds on Christmas Day. It was even cooler seeing them than being a teenager drinking beer with cops and adults.

Click images for desktop size: "Abstract" by Apple Inc The flock flew out over the ocean. They glinted in the sun when they turned. I don't know why they flew out over the water. Maybe looking for a home? Then got discouraged when they saw no land? They flew out and turned around and the party restarted.
That's it. Not much of a story but it's not often you get to see something so beautiful, so forlorn, joyous and tragic all in a minute.

I'm still in physical therapy for my shoulder. It's a mess. The physical therapist is from Santa Cruz. How he left Hollywood by the Sea for here is something that needs asking. I see the opthamologist on Friday. My job has been legislated out of existence effective January 4th. I'm much more happy than concerned about that.
My wife has been sick, It didn't stop her from going to her class today. She's in training to be a volunteer to care for the shelter dogs. I'm jealous she gets to do that.
She's also still an assistant basketball coach, with me. Basketball? Yeah, I know.
We're busy and looking forward to Christmas.
The only bad news is that iTunes 11.01 is still totally terrible and totally six.
The puppies are all good. Had some fits getting a vibration collar for the deaf dog, but Radio Tech has been super helpful.

The new Christmas podcast isn't too exciting either. Still it's gotten a lot of downloads via iTunes and podcast.net. A lot to me, not a lot to the internet. There;s some great songs in there and some sentiment.

The Cool and The Crazy 6 - True Yule

A House - Here Comes The Good Times
Grip Weeds - Hark The Herald Angels Sing
Brian Setzer - Getting In The Mood (For Christmas)
Beetles - Jingle Bell Rock
Big People - Piece For Christmas
Deadbeat Poets - Christmastime In Painesville
Buck Owens - Santa Looked A Lot Like Daddy
Ray Stevens - Santa Claus Is Watching You
Holly Twins (With Eddie Cochran) - I Want Elvis For Christmas
Ziggens - Instant Christmas
Lolas - Little Drummer Boy
Jon Auer - Let It Snow
Elvis Presley - Santa Bring My Baby Back To Me
Hank Snow - Reindeer Boogie
Jack Scott - There's Trouble Brewin'
Cathy Sharpe - North Pole Rock
Andersons - A Million Dollars For Christmas
Black Haloes - Homeless For Christmas
Everley Brothers - Christmas Eve Can Kill You
George Jones - Lonely Christmas Call
Weezer - We Wish You A Merry Christmas
Jim Backus - Why Don't You Go Home For Christmas
Del-Vets - I Want A Boy For Christmas
Adam Faith - Lonely Pup In A Christmas Shop
Johnny Preston - I Want A Rock And Roll Guitar
Surfers - Here Comes Santa In A Red Canoe
CONNECTION - Merry Christmas (I Don't Want To Fight Tonight)
Platters - Here Comes Santa Claus
Lord Douglas Byron - Surfin' Santa
Edd 'Kookie" Byrnes - Yulesville
Straight No Chaser - Carol Of The Bells
Three Aces And A Joker - Sleigh Bell Rock
Media Whores - All I Want For Christmas
Sheb Wooley - The Purple People Eater Meets Santa
Frankie Lymon - It's Christmas Once Again
Reno Bo - There's A Light
Shonen Knife - Space Christmas
Dickies - Silent Night

There is only one good, knowledge, and one evil, ignoranceSocrates

Sun, 18 Nov 2012 12:21:08 -0500

Click images for desktop size: "Nude" by Harvey Dunn My wife is back.
The only remotely sad thing about that she stayed so busy these last 6 weeks that she gave her self no time to mourn the passing of her father. Her business was mostly dealing with her father's small but large enough estate. The estate and meeting up with family members from which family craziness meant she was estranged. Families are always crazy to outsiders. It's the reason to just observe and not to interfere.
She also got the Canadian house ready to sell. She drove back from Canada in a 17 foot truck loaded with the possessions that couldn't be donated or comfortably thrown away. Behind the truck she hauled a trailer with her Jeep on the trailer! She survived it well enough except when she hit town she discovered the jerks at U-Hau had loaded her Jeep onto the trailer but then had not bothered to chain it down, use any chains or safety precautions or even bothered to hook up the brake lights and the turn signsls. They just plopped it on there and told her she was ready to go.
On this end the U-Haul guy was horrified and said we should file a complaint with the corporate office . . .
All the puppies and I are very glad she's back home.

We have a new puppy. Her name is Portia, which is a dumb name for a dog. She's a white bull terrier mix, she's got lots of black freckles on her with interesting patterns on her ears. She also has a fascinating roscharch pattern on her butt. I spend a lot of time staring at dog's butts when I walk them. I think I might be an expert on them. Portia is stone deaf which makes a lot of intriguing situations. She pulled the leash out of my hands already and run like a maniac down the street. I have so idea what stopped her but she skidded to a halt and turned around to run like a maniac at me so she could jump into my stomach. Portia weighs a compact 54 pounds but the hurt of her jump was washed away with the
Click images for desktop size: "Skeletor Victorious" by DSFSD relief of not losing the new dog on the second day.
She's sweet. Not only is she deaf but she's heart worm positive. They had her on death row at the shelter. That didn't affect out decision to adopt her just increased the urgency.
My wife is volunteering at the shelter and that eased the way to let the little girl live.

I'm coaching basketball. I know. Me. Basketball.
I'm only an assistant which means I'm backing up a fine young man who's caught in the small town miasma here which works well at stifling potential. I'll have fun bossing young people around and guiding my HC to a better understanding of his life and his ways to win games and in life.

They fixed my encapsulated shoulder on Friday. The treatment didn't take as well in my right shoulder as it did 3 years ago in the left. I say better doctoring back then. I'm facing physical therapy again. I have a lot of pain but I think the shoulder has stopped aching. The pain is from the muscles I screwed up compensating for the frozen shoulder. As in my shoulder feeling separated because I was forcing it to come into use about 6 inches sooner than it should so I could reach forward and to the side.
Still, it's better.

And the election is over. The zombies didn't win. I dislike the conservative extremists as much as I dislike the hippies on the left. They all just want to take away my freedoms, one in the lie of protecting the freedom of corporations the other in the name of protecting justice for corporations and 'some" people.
But ti's time to relax while the right pours out it's drivel and corrupt cowardice, while the left brags about a mandate.
I just want to live and to dance and to party. Which brings me to our next podcast!
It's just fun for the most part. Any messages are heavy handed enough to be obvious. My wife came back. It's just time to have some fun. There's even a couple of secret requests in there,

The Cool and The Crazy 5 - The Party That Matters

Kinks - Shepherds Of The Nation
Dropkick Murphys - Cadence To Arms
Lolas - Feelin' So Good (S.K.O.O.B.Y.D.O.O.)
Step - Love Letter
Wanders - Please Don't Touch
Dave Clark 5 - Bits And Pieces
Del Shannon - Hats Off To Larry (live)
Mighty Gordinis - Heavy X Soul Explosion
Teen Machine - Yummy Yummy Yummy
Sandy Nelson - Let There Be Drums
Joe Hall & The Corvettes - Bongo Beating Beatnik
Johnny Rivers - Help Me Rhonda
Collins Kids - Hoy Hoy
Equals - Baby Come Back
Wet Willie - Keep On Smilin'
Eddie And The Showmen - Mr Rebel
Madd - Would I Still Be Her Big Man
Bobby Fuller - Love's Made A Fool Of You
Little Boy Blues - The Great Train Robbery
Ed James - You And Whose Army?
Prodigy - Stand Up
Beach Boys - Drive-In
Tip Toppers - Little Bit O' Soul
Ronnie Self - Bop A Lena
Ran Dells - Martian Hop
Untamed Youth - Hey Elly Mae
Deke Dickerson & The Eccofonics - Run Boy Run
Jon And The Nightriders - Be My Baby\Don't Worry Baby
Gene Vincent - Bring It On Home
Black Watch - Amazing Grace

Mark Kelly - Husband of Gabby Giffords

Fri, 09 Nov 2012 18:11:11 -0500

Click images for desktop size: "Dark Days" by Benny Mark Kelly is the husband of Gabby Giffords. Giffords was one of the victims of the Tuscon Arizonia shooting many believe was inspired by the hate speech of Sarah Palin. Th following is the statement read into the record at the sentencing hearing of Jared Loughner, the man who shot Giffords in the head. Giffords shot 19 people that day, including children, yet, inexplicably this damaged man is still a hero to too much of the Christian Right. They defend him and they claim that if another person at the public rally was armed it would have ended differently. Whether that means the other armed person might have shot Lougner or joined him in extending the carnage is always unclear to me.
I should clarify that in my mind the person not actively involved in stopping evil is supporting evil.
The text below is from the transcript. It made me cry.

Mr. Loughner, for the first and last time, you are going to hear directly from Gabby and me about what you took away on January 8th, 2011 and, just as important, what you did not. So pay attention.
That bright and chilly Saturday morning, you killed six innocent people. Daughters and sons. Mothers and fathers. Grandparents and friends. They were devoted to their families, their communities, their places of worship.
Gabby would trade her own life to bring back any one of those you savagely murdered on that day. Especially young Christina-Taylor Green, whose high-minded ideas about service and democracy deserved a full life committed to advancing them. Especially 30-year old Gabe Zimmerman, whom Gabby knew well and cherished, and whose love for his family and his fiancee and service to his country were as deep as his loss is tragic. Especially Judge John Roll, whom Gabby was honored to call a colleague and friend and from whose interminable dedication to our community and country she gained enormous inspiration. Gabby would give anything to take away the grief you visited upon the Morrises, the Schnecks, and the Stoddards – anything to heal the bodies and psyches of your other victims.
And then there is what you took from Gabby. Her life has been forever changed. Plans she had for our family and her career have been immeasurably altered. Every day is a continuous struggle to do those things she was once so very good at. Gabby is a people person: she exudes kindness, creativity, and compassion. If she were not born with the name – “Gabby” – someone would have given it to her. Now she struggles to deliver each and every sentence. Her gift for language can now only be seen in Internet videos from a more innocent time.

Click images for desktop size: "Dream Forest" by Geopics Gabby was an outdoor enthusiast. She was often seen rollerblading with her friend Raoul in Reed Park, hiking in Sabino Canyon, or careening down Rillito Wash Trail on her bike, as she was the night before you tried and failed to murder her. She hasn't been to any of those places since, and I don't know when she’ll return.
There’s more. Gabby struggles to walk. Her right arm is paralyzed. She is partially blind. Gabby works harder in one minute of an hour – fighting to make each individual moment count for something – than most of us work in an entire day.
Mr. Loughner, by making death and producing tragedy, you sought to extinguish the beauty of life. To diminish potential. To strain love. And to cancel ideas. You tried to create for all of us a world as dark  and evil as your own.
   But know this, and remember it always: You failed.
Your decision to commit cold-blooded mass murder also begs of us to look in the mirror. This horrific act warns us to hold our leaders and ourselves responsible for coming up short when we do, for not having the courage to act when it’s hard, even for possessing the wrong values.
We are a people who can watch a young man like you spiral into murderous rampage without choosing to intervene before it is too late.
We have a political class that is afraid to do something as simple as have a meaningful debate about our gun laws and how they are being enforced. We have representatives who look at gun violence, not as a problem to solve, but as the white elephant in the room to ignore. As a nation we have repeatedly passed up the opportunity to address this issue. After Columbine; after Virginia Tech; after Tucson and after Aurora we have done nothing.
In this state we have elected officials so feckless in their leadership that they would say, as in the case of Governor Jan Brewer, “I don't think it has anything to do with the size of the magazine or the caliber of the gun.” She went on and said, “Even if the shooter's weapon had held fewer bullets, he'd have another gun, maybe. He could have three guns in his pocket” – she said this just one week after a high capacity magazine allowed you to kill six and wound 19 others, before being wrestled to the ground while attempting to reload. Or a state legislature that thought it appropriate to busy itself naming an official Arizona state gun just weeks after this tragedy occurred, instead of doing the work it was elected to do: encourage economic growth, help our returning veterans and fix our education system.
The challenges we face are so great, but the leadership in place is so often lacking. In so many moments, I find myself thinking, “We need Gabby.” In letter after letter, I’ve seen that others agree. As Americans mourned the six who died, they also mourned the loss of a representative who embodied the service they realized they should expect from those they elect, the type of person our county desperately needs to provide leadership and solve problems. Gabby was a courageous member of congress. Willing to stand up to the establishment when the establishment was wrong. She was thirsty for partnership across the aisle and was an unrelenting champion for her 600,000 constituents. One of which was you.
There’s something else Gabby and I have been spending a lot of time thinking about. The way we
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Donna Ferrato conduct politics must change. Sure it’s easier to win a debate if you can turn your opponent into a demon, but that’s not how we move forward. Not only does slash and burn politics make Americans cynical about their leaders, but it leads to bad ideas. It creates problems instead of solving the ones we have now.
Even amid all that was lost, Gabby and I give thanks for her life, her spirit, and her intellect, which are a continued force in this world despite what you’ve done. We exalt in sharing our lives with each other and with our family and friends.
As a city, Tucson has grown stronger. We love this community, and we love our neighbors. We are resilient, and the dynamism and compassion of our fellow Tucsonans will continue to push this city forward.
And there is what persists in Gabby: her love for this city, this state and this country. Her commitment to lifting us all up, and her ability to lead. Mr. Loughner, you may have put a bullet through her head, but you haven’t put a dent in her spirit and her commitment to make the world a better place.
  Mr. Loughner, pay close attention to this: Though you are mentally ill, you are responsible for the death and hurt you inflicted upon all of us on January 8th of last year. You know this. Gabby and I know this.
  Everyone in this courtroom knows this.
You have decades upon decades to contemplate what you did. But after today. After this moment. Here and now. Gabby and I are done thinking about you.

The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.Mahatma Gandhi

Sun, 28 Oct 2012 13:50:18 -0500

Click images for desktop size: "Creepy-October 1965" by Frank Frazetta The dream is over. USC lost our second game of the season last night. They lost in dismal fashion. The great thing about football is that it is just a season. Each season is one lifetime but each lifetime always features a reincarnation of a new lifetime.
The season is not completed. There is still plenty to play for beyond pride.

My wife is still in Canada. My right arm is getting worse. The dogs are happy with just me but they fight to get my attention. For some reason me petting them is important.
My job? It is still there and the pay check has not bounced.

I finished my Halloween podcast. It's already available via podfeed.net and iTunes

The Cool and The Crazy - Halloween 2012

Zacherely - Halloween Hootenanny
Mink Jaguar - Poison In Your Heart
Billy Taylor - Wombie Zombie
Ghoultown - Banditio Sunrise
Ronnie Dawson - Rockin' Bones (demo)
Rockin' Gene Simmons - Haunted House
Zacherely - Let's Twist Again Mummy Time Is Here
Rob Willis - The Cat
Frankie & The Fashions - Witch Doctor
Swingin; Neckbreakers - No Costume No Candy
Ben Colder - Shudders And Screams
Sheb Wooley - Purple People Eater
Gore-Gons - Ghosttown Gunfight
Rob Zombie -Dragula
Zacherely - Dinner WIth Drac
Deadbolt - Billy's Dead
Big Bopper - The Purple People Eater Meets The Witch Doctor
Misfits - Ghoul's Night Out
Johnny Cash - The Man Comes Around
Newports - I'm In The Ground For Good
Reverend Horton Heat - The Halloween Dance
Untamed - Tears In Dead Eyes
Bobby Boris Picket - The Monster Swim
Revels - Dead Man's Stroll
Satan's Pilgrims - Frankenstomp
Three Suns - Danny's Inferno
Zane Brothers - Dracula
3-D Invisibles - Hot Rod Hearse
Bert Convey - The Monster Hop
Deadly Ones - Mad Drummer Pt 2
Cub Koda dba Brownsville Station - The Martian Boogie
Dream Syndicate - Loving The Sinner, Hating The Sin
Zacherely - Happy Halloween

And it is close to election time again. I'e been incredibly disappointed in Obama, from his weak not life saving health care plan to his broken promise to close Gitmo. He is also the first President since Bush to actively seek to deprive us of our civil rights and liberties. I was further astonished by his not seeing lobbyists in his office but to take them into the Justice Department and other branches of government. He has not been a good or successful President. He has the look of the bullied kid who keeps trying to make friends with the weaker bullies.
I was going to vote for Jill Stein of the Green Party, but Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan are the vilest, most contemptible politicians in history. McLain at least believed what he said and Palin was just insane and not responsible for her idiocy. These guys think that money means your smart. They lie about everything, including their running times!
Romeny-Ryan would destroy this country and make it safe only for the wealthy fiefdoms where they could watch over their fascist slaves.
Only because these fascist lying scum are his opponents do I find myself having to vote for Obama.

And the little screaming fact that sounds through all history: repression works only to strengthen and knit the repressedJohn Steinbeck

Sat, 13 Oct 2012 22:20:46 -0500

Click images for desktop size: "Claro De Luna" by TitusBoy My wife has had to return to Canada. Her step-father died: pancreatic cancer. It was sudden and without much, if any, preparation.
She is holding up to it well enough, better than could be expected.
I'm alone with the four dogs, soon to be a fifth. We're happily making each other crazy.
I have to go back to walking to work again. It's healthy, I suppose, if it is fatiguing. Carrying all my groceries again and all the rest of it. The physical effort makes loneliness a bit more apparent.
And it makes it more obvious that I am glad I am past that moment of grief in my life. One thing that should bind us all together is that we all have or will have to bury our parents. Our parents are the most important people in our lives. Love them or hate them they made us what we are. Their passing always marks a void and delineates the mortality we only possess without owning.
My sadness for my wife is no little binding.

This is my 3rd podcast. The first one had 376 downloads, the second also had 376. I uploaded the 3rd to iTunes and to podcast.net and it's received 247 downloads so far.
I'll take the requests into consideration.

The Cool And The Crazy 3:
Love And Mayhem In 90 Minutes

Zeke - Hello There Ladies And Gentlemen
Sand Rubies - Memories Are Made Of This
The Phantom - Love Me (alternate take)
Mink Jaguar - Leave us All Behind
Freddie And The Hitchikers - Sinners
Richard Cheese - People Equal Shit
Sonny Burgess - Ain't Got A Thing
Grip Weeds - Rock & Roll Love Letter
Jan & Dean - I Gotta Drive
Ronnie Spector - Don't Worry Baby
Mary Weiss - Nobody Knows (But I Do)
Chymes - He's Not There Anymore
Human Beinz - Nobody But Me
Flares - Footstomping Part 1
Mystery Action - Shake
Ritchie Valens - La Bamba
Jackie Wilson - Reet Petite (The Finest Girl You Ever Want To Meet)
Sparkles - Hipsville 29 BC
Cliffhangers - What A Girl Can't Do
Travoltas - That Thing You
Insiders - The Price Of Love
Electric Light Orchestra - Do Ya
The Crest - Trouble In Paradise
Dorktones - Man WIth Money
Del Shannon - Stand Up
Jan & Dean - A Beginning From An End
Del Shannon - Lost In A Memory
Plan 9 - I Like Girls
Lolas - The Only People In The World
Dream Syndicate - Let It Rain
Alan Price - O Lucky Man!
Nylons - Drift Away
Dion - Drip Drop
Buddy Holly - Love Is Strange (demo)

I'll be making a podcast for Halloween, then, by a request that cannot be ignored, a podcast for the doggies.
When my wife gets back we're bringing in another puppy. A deaf bull terrier - female. She;s white with black spotted ears.
One thing that has impressed me with my wife is that even though she is near over come with grief she was able to get an amazing amount done: taking care of others, dealing with the paperwork and legalese that accompanies a modern death, getting the house ready to be sold . . . so much more than that. She could have allowed herself to be overwhelmed but she did it all and mostly by herself.