total insanity

So much for blogging

2010-03-16T10:32:00.002-04:00

Better not expect anything new for a while.

No Luck At All

2010-01-15T11:03:00.000-05:00

So of course yesterday is the first day back to the gym for this new year, and after a half hour beating on the elliptical, I come home, feeling 7-up. But happiness is short lived, because there is a call from the school, the younger lad is sick, and after a confusing 20 minutes or so, the MIL drops him off here. Could be pukey, then tired is the consensus from the school nurse and a neighbor, and oh boy, I think, how fun. But after a few hours he's seemingly better.

Cut to today, where he's not well enough to go to school, or maybe the warden at the nurse's office said keep him home a day, whatever. So day two at the gym is on hold, but there is good news because the rod that operates the drain in the shower breaks. Yay! Since it's so old, I have to fashion a paper clip, wire, and tape device worthy of MacGyver, and go fishing for a few minutes before I can pull up the spring and the rod. Now the drain once again works, and it's off to make mac and cheese for the younger lad, who is either playing Club Penguin or watching Nick or whatever.

Gym tomorrow, probably not, since there is a gig at night, and I don't want to be whupped. Sunday morning maybe. Ugh.

Getting back on the stick

2010-01-06T12:03:00.004-05:00

While the holidays have left me feeling like I just went 15 rounds with Ali, I am slowly getting back up to speed. And in the sense of a New Year's resolution, I suppose I'll fire up writing here again and see if anything comes out of it. So get your shoes on, and here we go.

How not to edit a website

2009-02-13T09:21:00.003-05:00

A plane just crashed in Buffalo, and all aboard, and some on the ground, were killed. Yesterday, as part of the backstory, wild winds and crazy weather ripped through the place. Thus the local news had stories about trees down, stuff getting blown around, etc. This morning when I went to the Buffalo ABC website for info on the crash, the first story listed after the plane crash caught my eye. Here is the screen grab:

In case it doesn't read well, it says, "Damaging Winds Bring Down More Than Just Trees." Yeouch, eh?

Testing

2008-12-24T22:16:00.001-05:00

I think Blogger has some problems on the D&C site . . .

I Just Had The Weirdest Phone Call

2008-11-24T12:01:00.002-05:00

Not that the call itself was weird, but the phone rang, I waited for caller ID, and then picked it up. I was watching some piano music on youtube with the score going past at the time, and as I clicked the phone on, I clicked off the website. Apparently the guy thought the "ding" of the piano was the beep of a phone machine, and delivered a message, as if said machine was recording. I figured it out midway through his spiel, when he said something like "I'd like to talk to you about it . .. " or whatever. so I just let him go, he finished his message, gave the number to call him back, and hung up, with that spritely little goodbye most people tag on the end when they leave a message.

Too funny.

The Election is over, and

2008-11-07T10:59:00.000-05:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=omFdpnSu57U

This Is How We Should All Exit

2008-10-31T14:57:00.001-04:00

http://www.wzzm13.com/news/news_story.aspx?storyid=100829&catid=14

Kelly Grant, RIP

2008-10-22T10:07:00.004-04:00

The above photo is a picture of Kelly sent to me by Jeff Laben. She's the barefoot one in the leather jacket.

The above article was about a friend of mine. It is up for the Scorgies website, since I cannot post pictures there.

Palin the Turtle

2008-10-06T08:08:00.001-04:00

The wisdom of a farmer

The old farmer said, "Well, ya know, Palin is a "post-turtle".

Not being familiar with that term, the listener asked him what a "post-turtle" is. The old farmer said, "When you're driving down a country road and you come across a fence post with a turtle balanced on top, that's a "post-turtle"."

The old farmer saw a puzzled look on the other's face, so he continued to explain. "You know she didn't get up there by herself, she doesn't belong up there, she doesn't know what to do while she is up there, and you just wonder what kind of a dumb ass put her up there to begin with."

Cunt-ry First

2008-10-02T10:08:00.005-04:00

It's a horrible pun for a title, and even though I wince as I write it, I can't help but continue to be stultified at the Republican's choice for veep. Take a look at this op-ed in the NY Times if you want an interesting viewpoint about her and this whole mess. Better yet, head over to the MSNBC Countdown site and check out the segment called "Palin's Greatest Hits." If it gives you confidence in her, then you may as well stop reading right now.

We're at the point now where people are bitching back and forth, acting childish, pointing out minor flaws in each candidate, like, "Oh yeah, well he voted for this on one bill," and so on, where the point to discredit goes beyond logic. They say Obama doesn't have the experience. Well, the only people that really do have the experience for president are those who have already been president, right? Or any job seeker and their prospective job, for that matter. Take McCain's boast that he was suspending campaigning to go back to Washington and save everything. He didn't go directly, which tells you something about the man, but lost in the shuffle is that without him, there are still 90 something senators who could hammer out a proposal without him. Right?

I don't see McCain as bringing any hope to the White House, and while Obama might be an unknown, he could do no worse than the frat boy rodeo clown who held the job for the last 8 years. I say get Whitey out of the White House.

Want to see a powerful commercial?

2008-09-29T23:33:00.000-04:00

Check this out - http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=a30_1222709603

Skull whacked

2008-09-16T21:19:00.003-04:00

I haven't written in a while, but that's fine, because no one reads this anyway. After fighting off allergic reactions to ragweed, I have conveniently found something more aggravating and painful to occupy my time, namely, the migraine headache. It's a sweet feeling, a combination of the feeling of a railroad spike through my skull, with the added benefit of feeling like someone or something is trying to kick out my left eyeball from the inside. I can't believe how fucking lucky I am.

Return of the Redeye

2008-08-26T09:51:00.002-04:00

Allergy symptoms hit hard beginning a week or two ago. Now my day consists of waking up with a runny nose, eyes I want to claw out of my skull, and an itchy throat that could use a drubbing with some 80 grit sandpaper. The generic Zyrtec I got from Rite Aid seems to work randomly. Take the regular dose, and not much seems to happen. Double it, and for periods throughout the day, the symptoms are quelled, but not consistently. Aiding all the fun is the younger lad who wants to play catch outside 24 - 7. I thought staying in with the AC would help, but as evinced on Saturday, it didn't make a difference. So either the whole outdoors and indoors is saturated with ragweed, or I'm simply screwed. I'll suggest the latter, since that's the way my luck goes.

Nothing Says Happy Anniversary Like . . .

2008-08-07T09:25:00.002-04:00

While most of the more romantic types might finish the headline with a swoopy, Harlequin Romance kind of rose petal filled bathtub with candles burning and dripping all over the sides of the tub, Michael Bolton music wafting through the smoke and incense infused air, and a slightly chilled bottle of the second cheapest bottle of champagne (actually sparkling wine) that New York State proudly offers, things are done just a bit differently at this house. And so, when I spied this gem in the big beer cooler at Wegmans yesterday, I knew my quest for the perfect evening and means of celebration were all wrapped together in this one little can. Clam juice, tomato juice, and watered down beer all rolled into one? Surely the gods are looking down upon us all.

On a more serious note, today does indeed mark the 15th year of unabated bliss here, and while I will not divulge details (personal information, is, after all, just that), if you do happen to see the missus or myself today, you may congratulate either one of us, and by that I mean rid your wallets of those unseemly dollar bills and hand them over immediately so we can get vittles at a place nicer than KFC.

And if you're thinking I am a total cad and behaving a bit cavalier, and how dare I and I should have at least made reservations somewhere, I defer to the demands of real life. As for a restaurant, provide your recommendation and why in the comments section, and if I use your suggestion, well, I'll send a can of Chelada your way. Second, with the reunion gig of the Press Tones around 48 hours away, any chance of dinner is overtaken by an imminent practice, and a performance the next night. Paltry excuses for the avoidance of a showering of love, but I'm not the best planner in the world. So on a makeup date, where would you go for a dinner, and why? And no, the place cannot have a drive through.

In the meantime, I have to hustle to get some flowers bundled together and ice some cupcakes. In closing, Fred and the boys said it best.

I'll never be well again

2008-07-21T16:35:00.002-04:00

At the point now where it's a hack or two in the sink each morning, maybe a few more throughout the day, kinda the equivalent of smoking a pack a day. Though I am optimistic, I still have this nagging feeling that the cold or west nile virus or aids or whatever the hell is bothering me will be staying til the end. Its a drag, but there you go.

Almost Well

2008-07-10T09:27:00.002-04:00

The pain in the throat is gone, now the only remnant of this horrid cold is a constant flow of mucus, usually from my lungs to my throat to a sink. Maybe by next week I will be whole again, and ready for allergies to attack.

Kill me please

2008-07-07T15:44:00.001-04:00

So the cold that started out in the head, and then moved to the lungs, has now taken up residence in the throat. Feels like strep, but by the time I could get into the doc's, it'd probably be gone, so off I go to suffer some more. Feck me.

The Headache That Won't Leave

2008-07-02T06:10:00.002-04:00

It is now July, and I am still sick. The most aggravating feature is a continual headache, at times low level, at times throbbing, that refuses to go away. Even now it pounds. How's your day?

Sick again, WTF?

2008-06-23T08:45:00.003-04:00

So apparently, when the older son was sick on Friday and stayed home from school, he passed the disease onto me. It's a lethal sinus cold, where the right half of the skull throbs with all the frequency of a strobe light, the nose runs wild like the overflowing Mississippi, and the body feels, well, like it's someplace else. Needless to say my mood has not been good, as it hurts to talk or think or do anything, even though there is stuff to be done. Hopefully this nonsense will pass soon, because if it doesn't, I will be going over the edge. In a hurry. Why? Can't go to the gym, can't ride the bike, can't do work around the house, can't do squat. So it sucks. So it goes.

Tiger Woods Put Down - Drug Ties Found Between Golfers and Horses

2008-06-18T12:12:00.003-04:00

Sadly, after going to a playoff round and finally winning the US Open, Tiger Woods has been humanely put to sleep. Although recent surgery on his knee held up long enough for him to play the Open, doctors discovered more damage that could not be repaired through surgery. Woods, collapsing out of the clubhouse on his way to the parking lot, was quickly surrounded by fans and security guards. After a doctor pronounced his diagnosis, the PGA trailer was brought into the parking lot, and the deadly injection given to Woods. Authorities are now looking into ties between golfers and thoroughbreds, as it appears a commonplace event that leg joints are cracking and popping like a bowl of Rice Krispies.

Weight Loss Woes

2008-06-17T09:48:00.002-04:00

Ahh, the joys of a plateau. Still working out roughly 6 days a week, and though I am getting stronger and healthier, the weight seems to have stabilized and refuses to leave. Next up, two meals get converted to protein shakes, and dinner is the only real food. Searching the web for strategies about plateaus gets opinions on all sides of the spectrum, from eat less to eat more, work out more to work out less, or a combination of the four, to a host of other things. So who knows. Off to the gym now, and we'll see what happens today.

A small cycling victory

2008-06-03T09:13:00.003-04:00

So far the biking season hasn't been too good - weather for the most part kind of sucked. Despite workouts at the gym, my average speed was still around 12 mph, not very good at all, at least I think so. Anyway, yesterday I figured I'd sprint all the way out to Mendon Ponds and back, just to see what would happen. And while there was a strong wind out of the west, which affected the bulk of the trip, I still managed a respectable 15.1 mph. Now if I can only keep that up for 50 miles, I'd be okay.

Mon Dieux! Je ne peut pas tomber!

2008-05-27T12:13:00.006-04:00

This story cracks me up. Seems a French guy wanted to parachute from 25 miles up. Yeah, you heard me, 25 miles. Despite the hazards, blood clots, no oxygen, blood boiling, despite his pressure suit to fend off the dangers, seems Michel Fournier had one small problem, namely, a competent ground crew. Seems they let go of the balloon he was to ride up into the sky and then jump from. There's a video here . . .

Oh, if you don't speak French and need to translate the headline, check here.

Golfer Tom Watson Breaks Ankle, is Put To Sleep

2008-05-22T14:19:00.003-04:00

The 69th PGA Senior Open is in town right now, and while watching on tv, I saw Tom Watson take a spill. You could hear the screams of agony, and help was soon at his side. Sadly, though, the decision was made to put him down. He was given some chamomile tea laced with arsenic. This casts a dark shadow over the event, but the game must go on.

For those looking for something to do, here's a nice game on the web you can play.

Got an Ugly Dog?

2008-05-16T10:06:00.003-04:00

http://www.sonoma-marinfair.org/uglydogvote08.shtml

Still time to enter your pooch in the ugliest dog contest out in California.

support the troops, not

2008-05-14T23:24:00.002-04:00

If you think the government really cares about the troops, really cares about people, just really cares in general, read this letter - if the link doesn't work, the text is below:

SUPPORT THE TROOPS Many soldiers missing out on Bush's stimulus checks In August 2006 the 10th Mountain Division, 2nd BCT, 1-89 Cavalry was sent to Iraq for 12 months. In April 2007, the troops were told the Army was adding three additional months to their time in country. In November 2007 the troopers of 1-89 arrived back in New York from their tour. They are now being told by the IRS, via the IRS Web site, that they haven't earned enough money to qualify for the economic stimulus check. One would think, after the Walter Reed Hospital scandal and other abuses of our military, that the conservatives would have learned that our troops have earned more than the country can ever pay them and that military members should be included automatically in every stimulus event. Where is the support for the troops?
Jeff Stephan, Peyton

Can you top this?

2008-05-09T09:37:00.002-04:00

http://www.kcci.com/sports/16201286/detail.html

Pretty depressing, the above story. I mean, not for the guy, but perhaps for the rest of us. If a blind bowler can bowl a perfect 300 game, 12 strikes in a row, what does that say about what you did today? Try hard enough? That's what I thought.

first post in may

2008-05-06T08:01:00.001-04:00

here's to having a bad attitude early in the morning.

Cancer prevention

2008-04-29T10:34:00.000-04:00

the article says it all - http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/3072021.stm

biking luck

2008-04-18T15:25:00.002-04:00

Last year, first ride of the season, I got about 200 yards from home and got a flat. Brand new tube in that tire. This year, on ride 2, out to Mendon Ponds, I got a flat. Brand new tube. Luckily, I had my cel phone with me, and called a pal to pick me up. I say luckily because I hadn't secured the air pump to the frame, which would have meant a 5 mile hike home. The rest of the day was spent getting a new tube, installing it, and securing the pump to the bike frame. Even funnier, the tube that was in there was one of those slime ones, the ones that are supposed to seal out little pinhole leaks so you can keep going. Well, I say don't believe the hype. And the downside, if I did have my pump with me, is I would have had to get the tube wet to find the hole, which would involve spitting and the hands, and I gather at some point I would have tasted that slime junk. Ugh. Back to regular tubes for me.

Pneumonia 1, me 0

2008-04-10T11:10:00.002-04:00

It's been about a month, and I am still not recovered. I would just like to take this moment to say go to hell to everyone and everything, since I feel crappy. So there.

for crying out loud. . .

2008-04-08T20:26:00.003-04:00

I think I am almost over the pneumonia. The lungs feel okay, and I don't know if I got strepp along the way or what, but my voice is shot by the end of the day, and in general, it sucks being me right now. Started cleaning up the garage, and though I have been going to the gym up until about a week ago, I messed up the lower back. So despite trying to get in shape, I have a few obstacles thrown in my path. Next week, I hope, all will be well, and I'll be back to the gym daily, and weather permitting, biking. This past weekend I just tried to do nothing as much as possible, and I think that helped a bit. But I'm not a doctor, so what the hell do I know?

still sick

2008-04-03T09:24:00.001-04:00

did some yard work yesterday and felt like death all day. pretty much the same today. the lungs are relatively clear, just tired. phoque me.

Any day now

2008-03-31T09:06:00.003-04:00

I'll clear my lungs of the junk that sticks to the walls like rubber cement. It's always nice to cough unexpectedly and see a stalactite hanging off someplace. Maybe another week, maybe two, who knows. It's also nice to see no one commenting on the D&C blog, which leads me to believe that either the whole town is technologically illiterate, just doesn't care, a combination of both, or something else. Since the D&C holds the stats, I have no ideas on pageviews or hits or anything. Maybe today I'll add another post. On a brighter side, tomorrow should hit 60 degrees.

Since I'm still sick

2008-03-24T15:40:00.002-04:00

go here and get a good laugh . . .

the verdict - pneumonia

2008-03-18T07:26:00.001-04:00

Looks like I'll be couch bound for a few days.

slowly getting in shape

2008-03-13T16:03:00.002-04:00

Not that anyone gives a flying fuck, but I blew through 4 miles on the treadmill in just under an hour, meaning my average speed was faster than 4 miles an hour (let me do the math for you). I am currently stuck at a plateau, but that should change soon, since it usually does. There is not so much pain after a workout anymore, although there is always some, but soon I should be able to get on the bike and burn quite a bit of calories. In case you were wondering.

Ughh

2008-03-07T09:47:00.002-05:00

Some sort of stomach virus is in its final throes right now, and it's not pretty where I am. Yesterday was worse, and despite being on the verge of puking, I still managed to drag my fat ass to the gym and blow off 3 miles on the treadmill. Today I will be again dragging myself there, with only Saturday, a rest day, a day off, to look forward to. I still have to finish painting the kitchen, which is about 70% done, but will probably drag into next week. At least it's getting a bit warmer around here, and geese are commuting all over the place.

Nothing of interest lately

2008-03-06T08:32:00.002-05:00

Still debating whether or not to deep 6 this, but in the meantime, I figured I'd write something. The D&C blog continues, although I have no idea if anyone is reading it, since the hit counter statistics belong to them. No one seems to be commenting, so either no one is reading it, or they are reading it and don't want to comment, or my writing sucks, or a delicious combination of all three. Who knows.

hey hey

2008-02-25T09:24:00.002-05:00

The D&C posting began, so we'll see what happens there. They said my mugshot might appear in the paper, and Sunday it did, on 2a. Sheesh. Got a few comments from people I know, and I apologized for the ugliness. Heh heh. Still haven't decided if I am going to bury this, we'll see. Have to paint the kitchen this week, and that should be fun.

ho hum, hi diddly ho

2008-02-21T10:40:00.003-05:00

The kids have the week off from school, and it's pretty maddening. One just wants to play video games all the time, the other wants to play outside. Since that never works too well, both offer up that they are bored, and there is nothing to do. And those phrases echo in my head, almost an instictive howl from every boy that's ever lived. And of course, when an option is offered up, say, hey, let's go bowling, one wants to, the other doesn't. Only a few more days to go though, and then I am on my own, lucky enough to paint the kitchen.

any day now

2008-02-19T06:48:00.001-05:00

I should start the D&C thing, as one of their guest bloggers for Pittsford. At that point, I'll probably either kill this or put it on the back burner. That is all for now.

good news, not so good news. . .

2008-02-13T14:12:00.002-05:00

The good news is, I saw a ridiculously low number for a resting heart rate, 63, which, in my fat addled case, is rather good news. The not so good news is that the scale seems to have parked itself for a while, what's known as a plateau in weight loss circles. But I take note of the former, since continued success along these lines means I can rid myself of the stupid hypertension drugs should I stay the course. And I would guess that good news as far as the heart is concerned, particularly around valentines day, is better than a pound or two shaved off my svelte physique. Soon it will be warmer around here, and I can get on the bike and motor about for more varied and longer workouts, so that's something to look forward to. . .

Slugging away

2008-02-12T16:04:00.001-05:00

Worked out this morning, upping the weight on the leg circuit. Went skating this afternoon. Tonight, I should be in a lot of pain. I can feel everything starting to stiffen up. With any luck, I can get up real early and shovel the snow that's supposed to pile up tonight. Woo fecking hoo.

My Son's First Poem. He's 7

2008-02-09T22:02:00.000-05:00

Snow

Snow is
Like one million
Meteors that strike
The earth gently

Off we go

2008-02-07T11:13:00.000-05:00

So today I met with the guy at Pittsford Nautilus, and he showed me a bunch of leg exercises. At the time, it didn't feel too bad, although by late afternoon, I could be doing an impression of Roosevelt at Warm Springs. Funny thing is, when I look in the mirror, That's what I see (arrow points to the right). Maybe I never should have put that poster up there, because if a real mirror was there, I'd see a horrendous gut. But the pounds are going, if slowly and steadily. By my birthday, with any luck, I'll have shed 20 pounds.

Let the fat burning begin

2008-02-06T12:58:00.000-05:00

So today began the beginning of a 3 month relationship I will have with Pittsford Nautilus. They had a coupon on their web site for a discounted rate, so I took advantage of it and enrolled. Today I used my new friend the rowing machine, and before I crinkle and fall apart this afternoon, I figured I'd post about it. I wish I had one of these machines in the basement, as it is much more fun and more of a workout than the treadmill. In any event, I go back tomorrow for a bit of a directed workout, and then hopefully, I can go every day until I am as thin as Kate Moss or whichever of those models looked like a heroin waif. I can feel the muscles locking up as I type, so time to go get some advil in the system.

Bands Reunited

2008-02-05T11:16:00.000-05:00

Well, a while back I had my good friend and studio wizard Dave Anderson at Saxon Recording transfer some old mixing board tapes to digital. These were tapes of the Presstones, mostly recorded at Scorgies, during the early 80's. I made copies and sent them off to all the band members, Pete, Tony, John, & Scott, and then got a letter from Scott (who lives out of town) talking about a reunion. So, feeling like the guy from VH1 show "Bands Reunited," I fired off e-mails about the possibility of getting together sometime this summer. Happily, everyone said yes, and so it looks like the Presstones could rise from the ashes at some point this summer and perform.

Here's a clip from the old days . . . .

hooray for me . . .

2008-02-01T16:35:00.000-05:00

Well, according to the scale, 10, count 'em, 10 pounds have gone south. Think I'll celebrate with a 5 gallon tub of hagen das coffee flavor.

Last day of January!

2008-01-31T10:13:00.000-05:00

And how are you celebrating it?

Remember when . . .

2008-01-29T14:50:00.001-05:00

Yeah, it's been a few days since I've written, but so what? Does anyone read this thing anyway?

Cleaning up the old office I figured I'd toss this up on the screen, might give a few people a chuckle. Not much of a club scene around here lately, not like the old days, and that isn't just old man rant. Ah well, time to get the kids off the bus. Oh, this poster was fairly controversial at the time, believe it or not.

Finally, the scale, she moves

2008-01-24T09:26:00.001-05:00

Well the scale moved, not much, but downwards, at least for a day or so. Much like the tanker turning analogy, losing weight now seems to be like an ice flow in the arctic breaking up and melting. First a few cracks, then more, then shifts, then all hell breaks loose. I just hope the later doesn't come in the form of bowel movements. And following that analogy with the phrase - a crack in the ice has begun - might seem a bit edgy, but it has. So now I'll just have to keep pounding out the exercise and see if it continues to work, although I suspect it will. So a small cheer to me, but now it's off to the treadmill, so I can complain about how much my knees hurt.

Help! I've fallen and I can't get up . . .

2008-01-18T17:45:00.001-05:00

Well, not really, but I did some tricep work the other day for the first time in forever, and now it's hard to lift my arms over my head, or shoulders, or whatever. Even lifting a fork up to my mouth makes me grimace, so I can see how lifting weights will help you lose weight, because you can't feed yourself. Bingo, there go the pounds. The scale has still not moved much, despite me telling my body fat that it's a lot warmer down in Florida. Like a bad taste in your mouth, it refuses to leave. I would guess though that by now, central processing up in the brain realizes I am not being chased by lions or tigers, and the constant fitness quest is permanent. In no time, the fat should be leaving, but at the moment, it's still busy packing. For those of you out there looking to make money, buy stock in Advil, Alleve, and Labatts. Short term anyway.

Tom Cruise is nuts, period

2008-01-17T09:35:00.000-05:00

It doesn't matter to me if he is gay or not, and personally, he's not that great an actor in my view, but his association with Scientology really bothers me. See this latest clip, and maybe you'll come to the same conclusion.

The fun continues; no one notices but me. . .

2008-01-16T14:05:00.000-05:00

Three solid days of working out and sweating, the heart monitor strapped on just to make sure I am working hard, and no surprise, I am right where I should be. On the plus side, I have had a solid headache for three days now, and my shoulders feel like a well abused GI Joe doll - you could rip the arms off with a simple tweak. Does the scale care? Nah, despite me substituting protein shakes for one or two meals a day. Perhaps the payoff will come later in the week, or maybe next week, maybe then the body will realize I am not fooling around this time, and jar the old metabolism into gear.

On another note, two gigs this weekend - on Friday, the Squeaky Chair is at Starry Nites, and Saturday, I'm with the Steve Greene trio at the MAG.

Sigh

2008-01-11T06:56:00.000-05:00

After 2 weeks of solid exercising, the news is not good. The weight has actually slightly increased, which may be a result of either muscle buildup, or eating more to compensate for the effort, or perhaps a combination of both. I am sure after another week or two the situation will change, but it's still pretty depressing. Anyway, that brings us to the photo at right, of a man who had a goal and met it. He's the one on the left, and he just passed away.

Oh the pain, the pain . . .

2008-01-07T14:48:00.000-05:00

Well, after pounding away on the various exercise equipment in the basement, I found a new muscle pain. Just above the knees, and it kicks in every time I try to walk, worse going up and down stairs. It was a dvd that did this, a cycling get in shape dvd that starts off with, I think he said, Hindu crunches. Start with your arms straight out, palms down, then as you bring your arms in to your sides, your palms will turn up and into fists. Continuing, point your hands down to your feet, and as you bend at the knees, touch the back of your heels. Stand back up and return your arms out front. In the dvd, he opens with 100 of these gems. I think I got less than a third of that, pausing in spots. Now, 2 days later, the pain has dulled, but still hurts. Now I can't wait to see what happens to me tomorrow.

Happy new year - sobered up yet?

2008-01-04T11:22:00.000-05:00

Hoo boy, wasn't 2007 fun? Personally, I'd give it a pass. Sure, there were moments, but overall, there's not too much of record I'd celebrate. For starters, the bathroom scale is telling me things I'd rather not hear. So this means exercise, and lots of it, which means aching joints and the locking up of an arthritic back, until enough weight is shed that it gets easier. But that won't be anytime soon, since I don't have those killer trainers you see on television prodding away at me. Mentally though, the recurring chant of "come on tubby," a nasty little dig, seems to get me motivated and moving. And aren't salads so refreshing and filling?

Frankenstein PC, or back to life from the dead

2007-12-29T10:16:00.000-05:00

Slowly, the pc is coming back to life. The external hard drive is now all better, and all the files, as far as I know anyway, have been recovered. Next week, we'll take a stab at the old C drive. On the downside though, IE7 seems real quirky, slow to load some pages, and the CD-RW drive looks like it's gone. At first, it would only spin at about half speed, and when I installed the Roxio software, it wouldn't recognize it. After a little tweaking, it was fine, burning cd's at 50x, and then, with no warning, it refused to recognize any disks. So now I suppose I need a cheap replacement, and off to look I go.

On the bright side though, my hat's off to R-Studio, the software that saved my kid pics. You can download the demo for free, run it, and see what it finds and can recover. Then, if you want, buy the license and let it go to work. I did, and so far, it's been flawless, and easily recovered over a quarter million files for me. I am optimistic it will do the same on the old hard drive, and will know in a week or so. Meantime, I have to fix the CD-R so I can back up more data, and not go through this mess again.

Away in a manger

2007-12-19T23:14:00.000-05:00

So of course, when the press stories come out today that Brittney's kid sister, a mere 16 years of age, is knocked up, the jokes immediately come to mind. Last name Spears, for one. You look at those girls the wrong way and the get pregnant, for another. But keeping the family name alive is much more than that for many, and a show I caught the end of tonight hit that point home hard. A Canadian couple had a kid who suffered from some sort of extreme dwarfism. I can't remember the specific name, but suffice it to say that at 2 years of age, this girl weighed 8 pounds. 8 pounds. Both my kids weighed more when they came off the assembly line. And I was thinking, what sort of hell did these parents go through, you know? Sure, a lot of people tie one on before they throw it in, and though the news of a confirmed pregnancy is a shock, it's not unexpected. And most people plan somewhat down the unknowable road, their ideas of what having a kid will be like way of course from what it will ultimately be, but at least somewhat in the ballpark. And yeah, you hope for health, hope you don't have a retard or some deformed spinal case. But I'm not sure anyone considers a case like this girl. To see the weird conjugation of a 2 year old that is so small, so lightweight, it was, well, in a word, fucked up. I may complain about material matters, like my hard drive, or the car, or whatever, but I can't imagine walking down that road.

Why the internet can suck

2007-12-19T17:10:00.000-05:00

Well, just 2 days after the hard drive went south, I found out my e-mail address had been phished. So if anyone gets a bad e-mail from me, sorry. Part of the problem is I had just renewed the antivirus software from Eset (the best AV on the market), but the renewal info was dead on the old HD. It was this afternoon when I logged onto the internet portal of Frontier to send a message, and noticed every time I tried to create a new message, there was already an identity (not mine), and a message body. Frontier's support is real nice, using a live interface, and it took about 3 minutes to solve the problem. And a quick call to Eset got me my info, although I am still waiting for the scan of the HD to finish before I can instal the AV software. Should be done tomorrow. For now, I'll just change the password daily.

The problem is, well, the internet, and the punks out there who scam and hack and whatever. It reminds me of a time when I was a kid in Grand Central, waiting for a train to go back to Connecticut. Or maybe Rochester. Anyway, this con artist came up and sold me a bill of goods about this hot album that had all these name players on it, like Santana, Clapton, George Harrison, and others. Being a dope, I paid too much for what turned out to be a horrible collection of songs by who knows. In any event, it's that burn, of being had, of not being able to just do something without getting bothered, that is magnified in the internet. A million billion times. Or so. Time to get a job as a pool boy on some island somewhere.

Now the cookies mock me

2007-12-18T14:21:00.000-05:00

While the hard drive is in ICU, I took a break to get some Chinese food for lunch. I am apprehensive, as my history with fortune cookies has not been so good as of late. AM I being paranoid? You be the judge. Today's cookie quote is:

"There's no problem that cannot be solved over a green tea ice-cream."

Though I, and perhaps my hard drive, would beg to differ, I can only see this as the cookie mocking my circumstances. I wonder what it is that I have done to offend the cookie gods, and what it is they are looking for in return. I am too freaked out to think normally. Frankly, if you though cookies were after you, you'd be a bit nuts as well.

not so happy holidays

2007-12-17T08:50:00.000-05:00

I will be laying low over the next week or so, as the hard drive went south on the pc, and I am trying to recover the data. It looks to be a slow process (should take a few days for the external hd), but so far the results are looking promising. A word to the wise - if you need something you have on your pc, back it up. I should have known better, since I've been telling people to back up for years, but in this case, even the external hd has been affected, so there you go. Although I will live even if everything is gone, it would be nice to keep the 6 or 7 years of kid photos.

Say it ain't so, Joe

2007-12-14T00:02:00.000-05:00

So baseball players are taking steroids, or have, or human growth hormone, or whatever. Wow, what a fucking surprise. Who would have guessed that a chance to make millions playing a kid's game would have engendered profiteers. It's no different from, say, Halliburton, or Blackwater, firms that muscled in their way to make money off a war. Provide a path to an easy buck, and someone will find a shortcut. If only the Hall of Fame reflected it's occupants. Imagine - "while not on the field, Babe Ruth was constantly getting his dick sucked for the price of an autograph," or "Ty Cobb loved to keep the negroes in their place, going so far as to . . . " but that's not the American way. Let's gloss over the particulars, and instead, lean heavily on acts that don't matter. Which is sort of a 180 degree turn. Sure, Babe Ruth whored around like crazy, drank to excess, and did all sorts of things outside the diamond. Contrast that with Pete Rose, who played the game, but oops, bet on a few. Seems the extracurricular karma is out of whack. But now, Bud "I've got a small dick" Selig, is all charged up to nail the current batch of drug runners. You know what he should to do hurt the players - make all tickets $2.00. Cut players' salaries. Teach them the hard way. It won't happen, but it'd be nice. Imagine, taking a family of 4 to a major league game, and getting out without spending 300 bucks.

When Things Go Wrong . . .

2007-12-12T17:50:00.000-05:00

they tend to multiply. At least in my case, anyway, or it seems that way. Take this morning, for example. The kids are sleeping in late since they got to sleep too late the night before, and still have homework to do. So the day starts off behind. I go to check the news and weather before they get up, and bam, the satellite is out. Check the switch, it says, and no matter what diagnostic test I run, it's out. Great. Kids get on the bus, I decide to clean bathrooms. Nothing like the smell of bleach in the morning. Since I stink worse now, I figure the treadmill is the next stop. It starts off slipping, like the motor is shot, but after a few restarts, seems okay. I actually jog a whole mile at 4.3 mph. Do another walking a little slower, and then decide, well, while I cool off, I'll toss in some laundry. Come upstairs to check e-mail, the doorbell rings, a friend delivers a holiday card, and after she leaves, I hear this grating sound. Coming from downstairs. The washer apparently couldn't handle the comforter it has done so many times before, and the motor coupling broke. Looks like a somewhat simple fix, but the part price is confusing. You can find one on e-bay for $2.50, but a local store has them for $43.00. On a hunch I go to the Sears site, and type in the part number, and lo and behold, they have them for 16 bucks. So now I have something to do tomorrow. I just hope nothing else breaks. Oh, and one more thing went wrong today - Ike Turner died.

The joy of being heavy

2007-12-07T10:56:00.000-05:00

It is no secret I am heavy. I know it, and admit to it, and am working to get rid of all the excess baggage. I am steaming in my own sweat right now, after having huffed and puffed 3 miles on the treadmill. And in my head, I continue to hear voices that say, well how could you have let yourself get like that? I could blame the old food pyramid, which placed an inordinate amount of emphasis on fun stuff like pasta and bread. But that's a cheap out, even if it is valid. The truth is, I just didn't pay enough attention to health. Like saving money, health is often one of those neglected aspects of your life. You go on, day to day, without really noticing anything, and then suddenly, you're stacked with debt, or extra pounds. And losing weight isn't as simple as pulling the steering wheel of a car one way to turn; it's more like trying to turn an oil tanker. Very slow, very ponderous, and the horizon always seems to look the same. So after two weeks or so of banging away on the treadmill, and the spin bike, and lifting weights, this is where I am - everything fucking hurts, my arthritic back, my knee joints (going up stairs is like a fourth of July celebration in each knee), my shoulder sockets simply kill, and I tend to be crankier than usual. The up side? Hey, 2 pounds have disappeared. It should get easier over time, but at the moment, it sucks.

More Freetime Fun

2007-12-04T09:23:00.000-05:00

Following the WCMF song list from Freetime, comes a few other gems. This issue, by the way, is January 5-19, 1983. And on January 9, at Schatzee's, you could see Open Season on Jimmy Freeze. The description reads:

"Best described as tribal rock, ranging from raucous defiance to heartfelt romantic unrest, and featuring former Presstone vocalist Jim Freeze, this band's debut and final performance is definitely the show not to miss."

And it was a hoot. Along with a guitarist and bassist, Freeze used a drum machine, and the highlight of the evening, for me, anyway, was when the drummer took a solo. At a time when drum solos were prevalent, at least as far as most mainline rock bands & corporate rock types, this interlude was hilarious. Just watching the band stand back and admire the drum machine as the solo took off was worth the price of admission. Oh, and in case you're wondering, Schatzee'z became Richmonds.

There's also an ad for Peter's Cellar, with the tag line, "Before the theatre in NYC-- it's Sardi's . . . before a movie on Monroe Ave, it's Peter's Cellar . . .

Funny, I never thought of this before, but I wonder if they were referring to the Lowes theaters, now gone, or the porn theater down Monroe Ave.

Across from an ad promoting Bow Wow Wow at the Masonic Temple Ballroom, is an ad for a club at 2525 West Henrietta Road. Stretch your memory, further, further, yes, it was JB's Club 747.

The Way Back Machine

2007-12-03T09:18:00.000-05:00

A visit to my mom's house provided me with some archival material. She saves everything, and is slowly tossing out stuff. Anyway, I stopped by, and she gave me a bag of books and junk, like who's who in American high school students (yeah, I was there), and a few old copies of Freetime, the local free publication that lists club dates, events, and the like. So in one of them was a two page spread by WMCF, a local radio station that used to be pretty radical, but over time has settled on playing the same songs relentlessly. So the text at the top of the ad reads:

"The WCMF Top 96 Songs of 1982 was compiled from votes submitted by WCMF listeners during December, 1982. "

I don't think there is anything scientific about the poll, and some of the selections I can't remember the station playing, at least not in daily rotation. Uncle Roger would always play better stuff during the overnight, you could call him up to request it, and you could always visit him and party on. But this was during a time when radio still mattered a bit, and there was always an attitude from the younger set, that college radio was the way to go (still is), and I'd guess a few of the votes came in from people trying to skew the results. And if you're feeling nostalgic, below is the list. Read on

1. Joan Jett ------ I Love Rock n’ Roll
2. John Cougar ------ Jack & Diane
3. Survivor ------ Eye of the Tiger
4. Asia ------ Heat of the Moment
5. Scorpions ------ No One Like You
6. J. Geils ------ Centerfold
7. Men At Work ------ Who Can It Be Now
8. Fleetwood Mac ------ Gypsy
9. Genesis ------ Abacab
10. Duke Jupiter ------ I’ll Drink To You
11. Sammy Hagar ------ I’ll Fall In Love Again
12. Loverboy ------ Lucky Ones
13. Asia ------ Sole Survivor
14. Aldo Nova ------ Fantasy
15. .38 Special ------ Caught Up In You
16. John Cougar ------ Hurts So Good
17. Billy Squier ------ Everybody Wants You
18. Genesis ------ You Might Recall
19. Cars ------ Since You’re Gone
20. Fleetwood Mac ------ Hold Me
21. Police ------ Every Little Thing She Does
22. Saga ------ On The Loose
23. Toto ------ Rosanna
24. Asia ------ Only Time Will Tell
25. Who ------ Athena
26. Van Halen ------ Pretty Woman
27. Flock of Seagulls ------ I Ran
28. Def Leppard ------ Bringing on the Heartbreak
29. Eddie Money ------ I Think I’m in Love
30. CSN ------ Southern Cross
31. Loverboy ------ Workin’ For the Weekend
32. Genesis ------ Man on the Corner
33. Stray Cats ------ Rock This Town
34. Prism ------ Don’t Let Him Know
35. Human League ------ Don’t You Want Me
36. Judas Priest ------ You Got Another Thing Comin’
37. Bryan Adams ------ Lonely Nights
38. Pete Townshend ------ Slit Skirts
39. Billy Squier ------ Learn How To Live
40. Huey Lewis ------ Do You Believe In Love
41.John Hall Band ------ Crazy
42. Nazareth ------ Love Leads to Madness
43. J. Geils ------ Freeze Frame
44. Genesis ------ Paperlate
45. Eddie Money ------ Shakin’
46. Steve Winwood ------ Still in the Game
47. Tommy Tutone ------ 867-5309
48. Sammy Hagar ------ There’s Only One Way To Rock
49. Men At Work ------ Down Under
50. Roger Daltrey ------ Say it Ain’t So, Joe
51. .38 Special ------ You Keep Running Away
52. Kansas ------ Play the Game Tonight
53. Joe Jackson ------ Steppin’ Out
54. Loverboy ------ When It’s Over
55. Soft Cell ------ Tainted Love
56. Police ------ Spirits in the Material World
57. Bad Company ------ Electricland
58. Shooting Star ------ Breakout
59. Jon Anderson ------ All in a Matter of Time
60. Rolling Stones ------ Goin’ to a Go Go
61. Elton John ------ Empty Garden
62. Clash ------ Rock the Casbah
63. Van Halen ------ Dancin’ in the Street
64. 805 ------ Young Boys
65. Rush ------ New World Man
66. Joan Jett ------ Crimson and Clover
67. Steve Winwood ------ Valerie
68. Frankie & the Knockouts ------ You Never Had it Better
69. Pat Benatar ------ Shadows of the Night
70. Le Roux ------ Addicted
71. Toronto ------ Your Daddy Don’t Know
72. Sherbs ------ We Ride Tonight
73. Tom Petty ------ You Got Lucky
74. Gamma ------ Right the First Time
75. Steel Breeze ------ You Don’t Want Me Anymore
76. Loverboy ------ Take Me to the Top
77. Go Go’s ------ We Got The Beat
78. Don Henley ------ Dirty Laundry
79. Uriah Heep ------ That’s The Way That It Is
80. Cars ------ Shake It Up
81. Pete Townshend ------ Stardom in Action
82. Charlie Daniels Band ------ Still in Saigon
83. Journey ------ Still They Ride
84. Frank Zappa ------ Valley Girl
85. David Johansen ------ Animals Medley
86. Robert Plant ------ Burning Down One Side
87. Loggins/Perry ------ Don’t Fight it
88. Scorpions ------ You Give Me All I Need
89. Billy Joel ------ Pressure
90. Buxx ------ Can’t Say No
91. Motels ------ Only the Lonely
92. April Wine ------ Enough is Enough
93. Greg Kihn ------ Testify
94. Steve Miller ------ Abracadabra
95. Spys ------ Don’t Run My Life
96. Sammy Hagar ------ Fast Times …

Willow fun

2007-11-30T11:01:00.001-05:00

Thanks to global warming, the two willow trees in the back yard are just unloading their leaves.

The shot at left is a stock photo, but that's basically what they look like. All those leaves are like little paper sardines, sardines that avoid rake tines or the 220 mph blast of a leaf blower with ease. And when they drop in the fall, or early winter, they also bring with them branches, long, whip-like strands that don't get past the rake, but do manage to clog it all up. What this means is, essentially, a nightmare. Sure they look good in the summer, if you don't count the small, black, bloodsucking bugs that hides on the leaves, and sure, they drink a ton of water, which saves the back yard from becoming a lake (usually). But cleanup is indeed a bitch, and the only efficient way I've found to rid the yard of leaves is to go over them all with the bagger on the back of the mower. This is a tedious process (believe me, and I've done it twice this week), because you can walk the width of the yard about three times before you need to empty the bag, and that, even for a relatively small yard, is a lot of stop and go. And chances are, I'll have to do it again soon. Ahh well, so it goes.

Cookie madness!!!

2007-11-26T15:39:00.000-05:00

I don't have my camera handy, but here's what the latest fortune cookie said -"Your luck is just not there. Attend to practical matters today." So the streak is born, or continues, or whatever. The cookies are out to get me. Why? Because I'm fat? It's not like I'm eating a lot of cookie brethren (although if the pasta and beer armies get together, I'm done). And if you think it's just paranoia, consider this - last Saturday night, the Steve Greene Trio is at the Little Theater. Along with Steve, Dave Arenius on Bass, there's me (Also Tina Albright, a really great vocalist, and a few other players) on guitar. At the end of the night, I go to get the tip jar and tally up what usually amounts to donuts for my kids the next day (at least with my share). As the jar tips sideways, the dollars fall out, the coins bounce on the table, and finally, out drops the remainder of a mostly eaten m&m cookie. Now, counting tips is never the highlight of the evening, since you're bound to be disappointed, but after this new low, I am convinced I have something to offend the cookie gods, and they are out for blood. What have I done? I don't know. I don't eat cookie dough ice cream (dulce de leche is so much better), I don't eat the cookies I put in the kid's school lunches, so what, what is it, what have I done?

Sweet! School is out and the kids are home!

2007-11-21T11:33:00.000-05:00

If you're a parent like me that stays at home with the kids, you just rolled your eyes in disbelief. And yes, it was sarcastic. Why? Right now, the knuckleheads are watching Gidrah the Three Headed Monster, one is eating chicken nuggets, the other a hot dog. Oh, and they are fighting over something. Like they did earlier over chess. Three days off, then the weekend, enough to toss the sleep schedule out the window, and though they'll eat better, at least at lunchtime, that's a minor plus. The house will get messed up, as any efforts to inculcate them on the benefits of cleaning will go unheard, and with an increase in cartoon viewing, they'll both turn into little ninjas, which puts various and tender parts of my body at risk (sayonara to your sister, boys).

Another plus is the onslaught of xmas, which means more toy advertising, more displays, and good god, probably another local radio station playing christmas tunes 24-7. I am sure the baby jesus will be rolling over in his grave. Ahh, more fights downstairs, time to motor.

Here comes thanksgiving . . .

2007-11-20T10:16:00.000-05:00

And sure, everyone is excited. Well, except for me, and perhaps people stuck in airports. As the years go by, I feel less like being in a Norman Rockwell scene and more like my mom, who denies all invites, and spends the time alone at home. No pressure, no worries. And it's the pressure that's getting to me, not a heavy, in your face kind of influence, but a more subtle swelling. Many people in town tend to orchestrate their front lawns and the visage of their homes to resemble a Hallmark scene - you know the type, overwhelming displays of smiley faced disposable items, the influx of those horrid inflatable globe units that shake like Parkinson's as they spew Styrofoam pellets over snowmen or reindeers or ghosts or whatever. And soon there will be a story in the local rag about some homeowner who has lost his noggin, and installed tens of thousands of colored lights around his home for Christmas, and set music to it, and pissed off some neighbors in the process. It makes good copy, and everyone chuckles, but it has gotten to the point, for me, anyway, that it's like the support the troops magnetic ribbon you see on the backs of suv's that get poor gas mileage. It has become a means of branding, and the more extreme the displays, the more extravagant the light show, the more the displayer becomes a substitution for the message (cue Linus on stage for the basics), and how less important the meassge becomes.

But prior to the light show, is thanksgiving, a glutton fest, where people eat turkey for that one time, watch football, and ponder getting up at 4 in the morning to make it to Wal-Mart in time for the opening of the doors. And there is stress to be had, for sure, because it's a meal that's hard to back out of, with people you may or may not want to be with for a long period of time. The most common retort you'll hear when any objection is voiced, is that, sheah, it's only for one day. No argument there, but maybe we could change the menu. Maybe make a Big Mac the centerpiece, or only eat crappy food, loaded in fat and sugar and all the things that aren't good for you. Imagine, "Who wants another piece of Whopper?," or "Can you pass the Snack Wrap?" That would free up turkey for more days during the year for meals, and slowly kill the fast food industry. Maybe people would be more concerned with each other, and not just a once a year cooked bird. Maybe instead of storming the aisles at supermarkets like rabid dogs, people could just relax, and not make, ah, what the hell am I thinking? Nothing will change, and we'll all bemoan how fast the time is going by, that Christmas is just around the corner, and I've only got a little time left to check my strings of lights and get them nailed up to the gutters.

DIY hell

2007-11-14T11:08:00.000-05:00

It's a bitterly cold November day, with the temperature hovering at around 60 degrees. Yes, 60, in upstate New York (upstate as in close to Canada). If the weather stays like this, Santa's sled will cut through rooftops like a hacksaw, and all the Jewish kids can laugh at their neighbors. But the weather is slated to change, and a backyard project of a brick is mostly done. I say mostly, because it's not level, the side supports aren't whacked down, and it's about as level as the ocean. In the spring, it seemed like a good idea. The missus got a screaming deal on lots of bricks, and all that was left was grunt work. So I scoured the web, read books, and it should have been a cakewalk. Maybe it was because I skipped shop in middle school, because the hulking instructor was too intimidating, talked of big guns, and the room not a happy place to be. And maybe I'm just a fuckup, and can't do simple things like measure. In any event, I'll have to fix it in the spring. Part of the problem is the bricks aren't all the same size (length or width, and I'm not talking small differences here, but rather large ones). I am sure there are many other problems, that a man like, oh, Norm Abrams of The New Yankee Workshop could spot in a second, but that I would never see. And so, I understand a DIY project now as not unlike a carnival barker, selling the headless woman exhibit to you, but once inside, you're on your own. And I have this horrid, turn your homework in a month too late, and sloppily done feeling in my gut, and it's not pleasant. As a going away present from the bricks, while lifting the last six over, about a foot from the ground they all came loose, and smashed my 3rd and 4th fingers on my right hand. Take that, neophyte. So the bricks are after me too, as well as the cookies.

Even the cookies have it in for me . . .

2007-11-12T09:06:00.001-05:00

So I got some Chinese takeout for lunch the other day, and after it all, there it was, the little fortune cookie. No biggie I thought, just wondered if it was either vanilla flavored or more on the citrus side, or either from Queens or Brooklyn. So as I am watching the Daily Show from the previous night, I eat the cookie, and then check the fortune, which, obivously, is what's above. I'm still trying to think what it is that I have done, but let me tell you, it's kind of unnerving to have your life questioned by a cookie.

Sigh

2007-11-08T00:10:00.000-05:00

Not much of interest is happening here lately. Got to drive at night tonight, and saw the first few random flakes in the headlights. For some perhaps, it's an ominous sight of things to come. For me, it's white rain. And driving through snow at night has always been a star trek moment. People around here itch at the cold weather, but forget that it was way warm into November. Now that the weather has turned colder, it'll be a few months of bitching from everyone. It's too cold, or it's too snowy or whatever. No one talks about the way the moon reflects off the snow, or how quiet it is at night, or how the snow crunches and makes you feel young. They'll bitch about heating bills, about kids getting sick, about crazy drivers. And that's too bad, because winter makes me feel alive, the cold, the snap in the air, the way you pick up the smell of wood burning far off. But hey, that's the way it goes. And now I goes to sleep.

Cell Phone Madness

2007-10-18T01:31:00.000-04:00

So today, the cell phone in my pocket rings. This is a big event, since few people know the number. And of course, it's a call from out of state, nothing I recognize. Probably a drug deal, who knows, but I answer it, because I'm bored. Some teenage voice asks if Katie is there, and I say, no man, sorry, wrong number. There a beat of dead air, and then I'm offered, well, since I have you on the line, do you know any good movies to take a girl to, like a good comedy? Poor sucker couldn't have reached a worse candidate to ask. Since I stay home with the kids, that's all I see are kid flicks, big animated adventures and all. So I tell him, sorry man, all I know is kid flicks. And because the technology of cell phones are so great, for a second, I know he thinks he hears chick flicks, and his voice comes alive. But I tell him, no, kid flicks, cartoons and stuff, and I don't know what movies are even playing right now. We part ways. Later, of course, I think to tell him to look at all the movie commercials he sees, and if one looks bogus or gay or whatever to him, that's the one to go to. Because it's not about what he likes, its about what she likes. But it's too late, and hopefully, he's with Katie at some movie, and they're sharing popcorn, and everything, at least for the moment, is okay.

The eyes have it . . .

2007-10-10T08:04:00.000-04:00

The doc said the eyes are fine, just aging like a good wine, and making things close up hard to see. So reading glasses, or "cheaters" as he called them, are fine. What wasn't fine was the drive home - blinded by the available light, wearing two pairs of sunglasses, I inadvertantly, and slowly, by the way, went around a school bus at the top of the street. The mom was out talking with the driver, both in the driveway, no kids in sight. So I get hollered at, and when home, the phone call, with an over agitated neighbor saying she'd "blow me in, neighbor or not." I understand her point of view - what I did was wrong. But there's no way I can explain to her the current slew of medical problems, that the effect of penicillin on an empty stomach coupled with the disorientation of dilated pupils and the need to take a whiz in a hurry makes Homer do stupid things. It's too easy to say she's fucking nuts - which she is, given what I know of her, but in the end, she is, and if I really wanted to kill her kid yesterday, I would have driven the car across her driveway, through her garage, and into her family room, because that's where he probably was. Now leave me alone.

Today the tooth, tomorrow the eyes . . .

2007-10-08T11:35:00.000-04:00

In the continuing path toward decomposition, I had a wisdom tooth pulled today. Number 17, if you're keeping score. I was disappointed, well, because, it took less time to pull the tooth than it takes to fart. Really. The dental surgeon said something like, "you might feel a little pressure," and then I did, and that was it. One more quick probe for something, some loose flap of skin or something, and game over. It took me considerably longer to get the prescription filled (where the consultation with the pharmacist consisted of her reading the labels to me), or to get home (a road was under construction and closed). So now I'm changing bloody little gauze pads every half-hour, and trying to keep two kids calm. They have the day off from school (Columbus must be the patron saint of superintendents), and hopefully the day will pass quickly. Tomorrow is the eye exam, the second stop on the tour.

Sometimes . . .

2007-09-26T23:37:00.000-04:00

Sometimes what? Sometimes everything hurts. Not everyone is a fat bastard, and horribly out of shape like me. And it's not something I set out to be, but here I am. With an arthritic back, according to my doctor. Back pain is funny; not in the sense that pain is funny (usually, that's only when someone else takes a football to the nuts), but funny in that it extends so much further than just the back. You see, the lower back is a huge area - supports your whole upper body and all, and if there's a problem, like mine, well, it affects more than just a localized area. Because the pain and reduced movement limits you. And it fucks up your whole attitude. You'd like to be nice to everyone, but imagine your brain running at normal speed, and your body moving in slow motion. Think you'd get frustrated? The answer is yes. And because the pain isn't constant, like, say, a paper cut to a finger, you're not always aware that that is the problem. What a hoot, huh? So sometimes, if I am cranky, don't take it personally.

Did you ever . . .

2007-09-20T09:11:00.001-04:00

Sneeze while taking a dump? It's like stomping on a ketchup packet in a Burger King parking lot. What a hoot.

Down to the Wire

2007-08-30T14:03:00.000-04:00

School is just a week away, and like most parents who have spent the summer home with the kids, I can't wait. Finally, both knuckleheads will be in school all day, which means a major break for me, although I do have to find a job. But at this point in time, they need structure, and they need it somewhere else than here. It is maddening, to find them at each other's throats one second, and then pals the next, only to return to throttling pirates the next. Ask any parent, who by this time, is so burnt out from trying to be creative and from yelling for months, just what it is like. You'll get that Vietnam vet type response, that cold stare, of horrors unknown, as they try to brush aside the inquiry. But it is a big deal, and even I can't begin to describe the insanity, of the torture of asking someone a multitude of times to do something so simple. And now, there's a light on the horizon, in the shape of a school bus. And that bus is headed this way. This year, I might actually do mimosas at the bus stop.

What? No New Posts Lately?

2007-08-23T09:28:00.000-04:00

Of course not. Time, for parents, is a flexible and elusive thing. And non-parents often bask in the future glow of child rearing, thinking it will be such a sweet existence, an Elysian Fields experience, a real Disney moment, where troubles don't exist. I say, don't count on it. The same way a high school graduate looks toward the unknown of college, as a place to be experienced, where things will be better, life will be better, far from the constraints of home. Most kids find out you don't get laid every day, grades might matter, oh, and you do have to pay those loans back.

But back to time. There are times where, having forgotten a load of laundry in the washer, I find it again days later, only to have to clean it again to rid it of a nasty musk smell it acquired. And yes, having to do it again a few days later for the same reason. Foolish, you say? Of course it is, but parents don't exist on the same level plane as unmarrieds, or those without kids. The only times you are acutely aware of are those that have an immediacy attached - a doctor's appointment at 2:00, say, or a play date at 10:30. Everything else is vague, at least until the spouse gets home. Why? There is no real structure for the short attention span of kids, and get a few together, of different ages, and the clock becomes meaningless. One gets up real early, the other sleeps in. This skewers meal making, and also puts a slant on who gets to watch what ("he's been up watching cartoon network for hours, and I just got up," for example). And you can try to salvage it at lunchtime, but if one of them has an intermediate snack before lunch, again, you're kind of screwed.

Of course, given they both get up at different times, they both go to sleep at different times, and this is not unlike the several levels of Buddhist hells found in Japan. Maybe it's Shinto, I can't remember. "But I'm not tired," says one, and you can argue until you're blue in the face. But you'll be up, unable to watch anything remotely violent or sexy on television yourself, anything that might be a tad stress relieving, something to take the edge of a long, timeless day. And the last thing you think about is posting to a blog that no one reads. So that accounts for the infrequency of posts.

Parenting and Bad Business

2007-08-15T15:28:00.000-04:00

When an idea hits, sometimes it feels like a load of bricks. And I know what a load of bricks feels like, because I carted several from the driveway to the backyard, where they sit, awaiting installation into a patio of sorts. But back to the idea thing, because it hit me the other day, that being a parent is like running a really bad business. Think over your job, if you have one, and think how work flows. You show up, roughly on time, do what's asked, and in turn ask others to do things, maybe you go to lunch, and you look forward to the weekend. Not too bad a life. Imagine, for a moment, you had to tell your co-worker to do something simple, say, make copies of a presentation or something. So it'd go something like this: "Hey Frank, can you copy the Henderson presentation? Thanks." Pretty simple stuff, eh? Now imagine a world of kids. The tasks are different, but you basically want them to do something, say, put a few crayons back in a box. That would go more like this: "Hey, Frankie? Can you put those crayons back in the box please?"

Now, if you're not a parent, you might picture a cherubic little face beaming back at you, and the crayons get whisked back into the box. But if that's what you see, you're either not a parent, or a very optimistic person. Because what usually happens is more like this: "Frankie? Did you hear me? Can you please put the crayons back in the box?" And still there's no response from the kid, because whatever he is doing, watching a Japanese cartoon on a Japanese television, playing a Japanese built game, or just picking his nose(which could be Japanese, depending on . . .), is loads more important than answering a question. So again, you go, "Frankie? Frankie! Do you hear me? Can you get those crayons back in the box?!" And if you're lucky, you'll catch his ear a bit and he'll start looking in your direction, but then shift back, unless you pounce on the moment. "Frankie! Hey, did you hear me? Look over hear please." And as a word of warning, your polite phrasing only lasts so long, but you'll see why later. Say he does look, and you think he hears you. Doesn't matter, because he's turning back to the cartoon.

So now some avenues open up for you - You can either pick up the crayons yourself, which would be easiest and painless, but you're sick of always picking up their stuff, and besides, he's old enough and should start learning on his own. It's that instructive instinct, that "I will make my kids turn out better than everyone else's kids" feeling that is both good to have, and a reason to drink. So you decide, nah, I won't pick them up, I'll get the lad to do it. Now you have two options, either keep yelling at him, because talking in a nice polite voice can't compete with robots firing rockets, or stand in front of the television, blocking his treasured cartoon, and getting his attention. If you try the former, you'll find your voice and your stress level slowly rising. There are many reasons, but a big one is because you can't understand why someone a few feet away can't hear you, or respond to you, because you're asking a simple question. And even the thought of a simple question is interesting, because you find yourself gauging the stakes of the task. You get frustrated, because you're not asking him to construct a 30 foot minaret in the back yard, you're not asking him to do invasive surgery in the middle of the rain forest at night with no scalpel, you're not asking him to replace the lifters on a 69 Chevy motor. You, yes you, picture this as a task so simple a child could do it. And therein lies the rub. A child could do it, but he isn't doing it, and your brain, which, in all it's grand experience, is used to people responding to simple tasks that you ask of them. It worked at work, remember? Remember how even that job seemed so shitty, when you asked someone to get you a coffee, or copy something, it happened, even though they didn't like you, or were never on time to work, or whatever?

Yes, now, a task, so simple, so ludicrously easy, something so easy a child could do, is not being done by a child. So without thinking, you raise your voice. You holler. You stand in front of the television, or you turn it over, evoking a violent reaction, and possibly tears. Something so simple that should take, oh, 20, 30 seconds tops, is now a major event, in the 5 to 10 minute range. And you might find a voice coming from deep within, a dark, beastly voice, telling, well, yelling is more like it, yelling that these crayons had better be picked up now, or else. You'll know that voice, the coive oyu thought you never had. But that's another story.

And after this horrible episode, you reflect on parenting, and how no one ever gave you a book of rules, and how you figured kids would be easy, no problem, they're smaller, what harm could they do? You wonder if your parents were the same, endured the same struggles, and the answer has to be yes, and now you understand why parents love grandchildren so much, and why they give you a hard time when they see you raising your kids. They do it, because they have been in the shit before, and they remember when you were a teenager, and were going to save the world, and do all these things that your parents didn't approve of or think was a good idea because you were going to be different than them, do things the right way. They know what will happen, they've been though it. They take care of your kids, happily, because they don't have to live with them. If they want to see a movie in the middle of the day, they can, and you can't. Oh, and if your kids ever do go to your parent's house, and granny asks them to pick up crayons, they do. In a heartbeat. Sucker.

So parenting is like running a bad business, because none of your employees do what they're told when they're asked, they don't show up on time for anything (tell your kids to be at the door at a certain time, and see for yourself), and you find yourself stressed out, yelling yourself hoarse from time to time. Or they do something incredibly stupid, and it drives you nuts. Oh, and these incidents happen all day long. Gotta go now, I hear the kids are hollering.

Friday fun

2007-08-10T12:56:00.000-04:00

Well, the basement got picked up, the boys were rewarded (doubly, since today is fast food Friday - we only eat junk food on Fridays, or are only supposed to), and lo and behold, a weekly newsletter comes through in e-mail with what one aspect of my life is like. Here is the description and the link:

Kung fu child beater The addition of some simple sound effects and abit of trick camera work and it genuinely looks like this guy is beating the crap out of his kids under the guise of teaching them martialarts! http://www.b3ta.com/links/Child_Beater

Where was I?

2007-08-09T16:45:00.000-04:00

Oh right, so we go outside to play baseball, because the younger just got a new bat and batting helmet (5 bucks each at Wal Mart clearance), and after countless batted balls, including a few 70 mph wiffle balls to the chest, again they're bored, and want to go inside. Fine, I say, now you can get back to cleaning the basement, which, after a quick inspection, hasn't been cleaned at all. "Just put the stuff you keep in the plastic bins, that's all you have to do." In the back of my mind I assume they heard me and understand what I say, but as a parent, such a belief is laughable. Again, utopia exists only in the mind. A perfect world where people hear you and understand you. I may as well be speaking in a Polynesian click tongue dialect. I know, for example, that they aren't cleaning right now as I write. How? Because a few minutes ago, one came up and said the elder wasn't helping to clean. "Fine, so if the basement does get clean, you'll get 2 dollars and he'll get nothing." Off he goes, and after a few minutes, here comes the elder, ready to deal. "What if sometimes we do stuff and get paid, and sometimes we don't" he offers, and I put the screws on - "Listen," I say, "I could yell at you, and tell you how you promised me you would clean the basement because we got the nerf guns. But I too tired to yell. If you can't clean it up, I'll take the guns back to the store." And you can hear the gears turning, and he's looking a way out, but he's a bit stumped. As he heads off to the basement, I tell him I'll call mom and tell her that he didn't do what he promised. This works like a static electricity shock after a 25 foot friction walk across the carpet. He starts getting defensive, and says he'll clean. But I doubt that's happening. Why? Because I can hear them walking around, and I am two floors up. This means they're not in the basement. And sure enough, a few minutes later they both come up, complaining of hunger. Fine, I say, go clean the basement and we'll start dinner. After a brief discussion of options (mac and cheese with hot dogs wins out), they both go off to clean the basement again.

So what's the moral of the story? Well, after 24 hours, of which I slept for 5, there's been a promise to clean the basement. Most of the work so far has been done by me, some by the younger. Their short attention spans have prevented them from cleaning, and when they sought other things to do, they soon tired, and I had to remind them to, uh, what was that? Oh yeah, clean the basement. And what happens when mom comes home? The place is still a mess, the kids are angels, I am still tired, and wait, here come footsteps up the stairs. . . it's the younger, asking if he can have a frog tattoo (little kiddie tattoo) on his arm. I tell him his mom likes putting them on him, can he wait till she gets home? He agrees. I ask if the basement is clean, and like a game show contestant looking up to the heavens in search of an answer, he pauses, and says, "uh, it's a little bit cleaner." So the basement is still not clean, and I'm too tired to think.

When you're tired

2007-08-09T16:19:00.000-04:00

If you don't have kids, you don't know what tired is. Oh sure, once in a while you yawn, wish for a day in a hammock, or loafing on a floating raft in a pool. But don't kid yourself; you don't know tired. Take today, for example. The knuckleheads (reference term for the kids) promised they would clean the basement today. I know they promised to do it, because I said they could use their gift cards to Toys R Us and get nerf guns on the condition they pick up their toys. So we got the guns, and they are wicked fun and shoot nerf darts like 35 feet, and have velcro tips and stick to the nerf chest protectors. It's a hoot. Anyway, on my way to bed last night, both knuckleheads were spawled over my bed and the wife, so I went back downstairs to sleep on the floor (back hurts from a patio install, but that's another story). So I didn't sleep well. And I had to move a ton of stone and hammer it down with a compactor in the morning, because all week it's been hot and humid and I sweat more than an hour episode of the Biggest Loser. So I didn't mind being too tired. And who knew the humidty and heat would break late in the day?

So I give them the option of helping me outside, or cleaning the basement. So they choose outside. And I move stone, and compact it, and sweat, and they get a little exercise. And then they get bored. Why? I don't know. It's what kids do during the summer when they have more than ten minutes free. The garage is littered with toys and sporting goods. The basement is a swamp of toys. But they're bored. Fine, you go clean the basement while I take a shower. And I presume that's what they do while I wash the stink off, because Utopia only exists in the mind. In the real world, they're playing Star Wars Lego on the computer. Or spiderman on the old Dreamcast. But not cleaning. So I start going through the big plastic tubs that hold all the stuff that isn't on the floor. "Keep it or toss it?" becomes the line. But now it's like christmas and a 20 year high school reunion rolled into one. Toys they haven't seen for days - "That's my mechanogodzilla!" "Oh look! It's the Power Ranger I was looking for!" and so on. Eventually though, i clear out 4 large plastic bins, have 2 garbage bags filled for some lucky impoverished kids via Salvation Army, and all I ask is they put the stuff they kept in the bins. I take the bags to the car. I decide we all go to the drop off bins now, to get rid of it. Gone, and done. We make a side trip to drop off returnable bottles, and from somewhere the idea comes that they should get paid to clean the basement. Fine, a dollar each if you do a good job.

So back home, I watch part of the Mets game, and am having trouble staying awake. The back is slowly locking up, and getting 5 hours sleep on the floor is paying dividends. One knucklehead tells me I'm falling asleep. I tell him it's because I didn't sleep well, since I was on the floor, and they were in my bed. Shortly after that, the other one is screaming to me that I am falling asleep, and can he watch something on the tv. No, I am watching the Mets game, go down stairs and clean the basement. So they go downstairs. After a while, they come up and want to go outside. Fine. I'll finish this later, I hear screams coming from the basement.

Welcome to the nuthouse . . .

2007-08-09T11:58:00.000-04:00

I have been asked to start up a blog, to spew forth humorous observations about the world in general, and so off we go. Nothing earth shattering at the moment, since I'm tired, my back hurts, and the afternoon looks like it's going to be a long one. So there you go.