Nothing But Love :: golf blogger

Christmas Is Coming

I was driving home this evening after attending a meeting. I didn't realize that people were still celebrating Christmas. I saw four houses with Christmas trees lit up inside the houses. I saw a bunch of other houses with Christmas decorations and lights still blazing. I thought that maybe there was some kind of Valentine's Day significance to it all, but never heard of that kind of thing.

Speaking of Valentine's Day, I never really put much significance upon it until after I got involved with Stacey. Her family seemed to be obsessed with Valentine's Day ... gifts, big dinner, parties. I thought it was all so weird the first few years. More than weird, I thought it was downright crazy the one year when some guy blew up a bunch of fireworks from North Carolina and shot off his big gun.

In those days, I was somewhat naive. I thought that fireworks was sheer lunacy. I asked Stacey about that. She then explained that the Family commemorated the St. Valentine's Day Massacre, not St. Valentine's Day.

100 More

When you're watching the Super Bowl, you'll see all those football players in their uniforms shuffling about on the sideline, about 100 of them in this spectacle that has evolved into more than the game itself.

When you're watching the game, listen to the announcers talk about the warriors on the field, tout the courage the great athletes are showing out there on the playing field, praising the heroics of the players for the hard hits and the extra yards gained, for getting up after being tackled.

And then remember these 100 soldiers listed below, real warriors, who died so far this year in a foreign land fighting for the dreams of a group of men, Bush, Cheney, Wolfowitz, Rumsfeld, and others, wise men who never faced a black hole at the end of a rocket launcher that spews death and destruction, never worry about a homemade bomb exploding on the side of the road, and never sent their sons or daughters into battle, not knowing whether they would return in an unseen and unspoken of black body bag, and not knowing whether they would return only to be reminded of the service they so honorably gave to their country day in and day out by the permanent scars, seen and unseen, of a war that has lost all meaning, if it ever had any real meaning at all.

Call FOX when the announcers tell you about the courage of football players earning hundreds of thousands of dollars to play a game. Call David Hill, CEO, at 310-369-6000 or e-mail FOX at Feedback@foxsports.com.

Remind them of the 100 who cannot watch the game:

Spc. Jeff LeBrun, 21, from Buffalo, N.Y.:Lance Cpl. Brian P. Parrello, 19, of West Milford, N.J.:Sgt. Thomas E. Houser, 22, of Council Bluffs, Iowa:Unidentified, pending notification of next-of-kin:Pfc. Curtis L. Wooten III, 20, of Spanaway, Wash.:Spc. Jimmy D. Buie, 44, of Floral, Ark.:Spc. Jeremy W. McHalffey, 28, of Mabelvale, Ark.:Spc. Joshua S. Marcum, 33, of Evening Shade, Ark.:Pvt. Cory R. Depew, 21, of Beech Grove, Ind.:Sgt. Bennie J. Washington, 25, of Atlanta, Ga.:Lance Cpl. Julio C. CisnerosAlvarez, 22, of Pharr, Texas:Pfc. Kenneth G. Vonronn, 20, of Bloomingburg, N.Y.: Sgt. 1st Class Kurt J. Comeaux, 34, of Raceland, La.:Sgt. Christopher J. Babin, 27, of Houma, La.:Spc. Bradley J. Bergeron, 25, of Houma, La.:Spc. Huey P. L. Fassbender, 24, of LaPlace, La.:Spc. Armand L. Frickey, 20, of Houma, La.:Spc. Warren A. Murphy, 29, of Marrero, La.:Sgt. Zachariah S. Davis, 25, of Twentynine Palms, Calif.:Pfc. Daniel F. Guastaferro, 27, of Las Vegas, Nev.:Cpl. Joseph E. Fite, 23, of Round Rock, Texas:Unidentified, pending notification of next-of-kin:Spc. Dwayne J. McFarlane Jr., 20, of Cass Lake, Minn.:Staff Sgt. William F. Manuel, 34, of Kinder, La.:Sgt. Robert W. Sweeney III, 22, of Pineville, La.:Spc. Michael J. Smith, 24, of Media, Penn.:Lance Cpl. Matthew W. Holloway, 21, of Fulton, Texas:Lance Cpl. Juan R. Rodriguez Velasco, 23, of El Cenizo, Texas:Pfc. Gunnar D. Becker, 19, of Forestburg, S.D.:Sgt. 1st Class Brian A. Mack, 36, of Phoenix, Ariz.:Cpl. Paul C. Holter III, 21, of Corpus Christi, Texas:Sgt. Jayton D. Patterson, 26, of Sedley, Va.:Sgt. Nathaniel T. Swindell, 24, of Bronx, N.Y.:Pfc. Francis C. Obaji, 21, of Queens Village, N.Y.:Spc. Alain L. Kamolvathin, 21, of Blairstown, N.J.:Staff Sgt. Thomas E. Vitagliano, 33, of New Haven, Conn.:Pfc. George R. Geer, 27, of Cortez, Colo.: Pfc. Jesus Fonseca, 19, of Marietta, Ga.:Capt. Christopher J. Sullivan, 29, of Princeton, Mass.: Sgt. Kyle W. Childress, 29, of Terre Haute, Ind.:Capt. Joe F. Lusk II, 25, of Reedley, Calif.:1st Lt. Nainoa K. Hoe, 27, of Hawaii:Staff Sgt. Jose C. Rangel, 43, of Saratoga, Calif.:Unidentified pending notification of next-of-kin:Unidentified pending notification of next-of-kin:Unidentified pending notification of next-of-kin:Unidentified pending notification of next-of-kin:Unidentified pending notification of next-of-kin:Sgt. Brett D. Swank, of Northumberland, Pa.: Sgt. Leonard W. Adams, 42, of Mooresville, N.C.:Cpl. Jonathan W. Bowling, 23, of Patrick, Va.:Lance Cpl. Karl R. Linn, 20, of Chesterfield, Va.:Cpl. Christopher L. Weaver, 24, of Fredericksburg, Va.:Sgt. Jesse W. Strong, 24, of Irasburg, Vt.:Unidentified pending notification of next-of-kin:Capt. Paul C. Alaniz, 32, of Corpus Christi, Texas:Lance Cpl. Jonathan E. Etterling, 22, of Wheelersburg, Ohio:Capt. Lyle L. Gordon, 30, of Midlothian, Texas:Lance Cpl. Brian C. Hopper, 21, of Wynne, Ark.:Lance Cpl. Saeed Jafarkhani-Torshizi Jr., 24, of Fort Worth, Texas:Cpl. Sean P. Kelly, 23, of Gloucester, N.J.:Staff Sgt. Dexter S. Kimble, 30, of Houston, Texas:Lance Cpl. Allan Klein, 34, of Clinton Township, Mich.:Cpl. James L. Moore, 24, of Roseburg, Ore.:Lance Cpl. Mourad Ragimov, 20, of San Diego, Calif.:Lance Cpl. Rhonald D. Rairdan, 20, of San Antonio, Texas:Lance Cpl. Hector Ramos, 20, of Aurora, Ill.:Lance Cpl. Darrell J. Schumann, 25, of Hampton, Va.:1st Lt. Dustin M. Shumney, 30, of Vallejo, Calif:Cpl. Matthew R. Smith, 24, of West Valley, Utah:Lance Cpl. Joseph B. Spence, 24, of Scotts Valley, Calif: Staff Sgt. Brian D. Bland, 26, of Weston, Wyo.:Sgt. Michael W. Finke Jr., 28, of Huron, Ohio:1st Lt. Travis J. Fuller, 26, of Granville, Mass.:Cpl. Timothy M. Gibson, 23, of Hillsborough, N.H.:Cpl. Richard A. Gilbert Jr., 26, of Montgomery, Ohio:Cpl. Kyle J. Grimes, 21, of Northampton, Pa.:Lance Cpl. Tony L. Hernandez, 22, of Canyon Lake, Texas:Cpl. Nathaniel K. Moore, 22, of Champaign, Ill.:Lance Cpl. Gael Saintvil, 24, of Orange, Fla.:Cpl. Nathan A. Schubert, 22, of Cherokee, Iowa:Lance Cpl. Michael L. Starr Jr., 21, of Baltimore, Md.:Cpl. Stephen P. Johnson, 24, of Covina, Calif.:Lance Cpl. Fred L. Maciel, 20, of Spring, Texas:Unidentified pending notification of next-of-kin:Petty Officer 3rd Class John D. House, 28, of Ventura, Calif.:Spc. Taylor J. Burk, 21, of Amarillo, Texas: Sgt. William S. Kinzer Jr., 27, of Hendersonville, N.C.:Unidentified pending notification of next-of-kin:Cpl. Jonathan S. Beatty, 22, of Streator, Ill.:Pfc. Kevin M. Luna, 26, of Oxnard, Calif.:Unidentified pending notification of next-of-kin:Unidentified pending notification of next-of-kin:Unidentified pending notification of next-of-kin:Unidentified pending notification of next-of-kin:Unidentified pending notification of next-of-kin:Unidentified pending notification of next-of-kin:Unidentified pending notification of next-of-kin:Unidentified pending notification of next-of-kin:Unidentified pending notification of next-of-kin.

And then call 202-456-1414, and ask the Man how many more must die.

Nothing To Do

Don't ask.

Fred Acker is in trouble again. He got off of a barking dog charge before because the prosecutor couldn't prove which dog was barking. Now, he's charged with animal abuse ... he's apparently having trouble taking care of 87 dogs and 32 cats.

Speaking of dogs and cats, sometimes there's a breakdown in family discipline. Sometimes the boys are fooling around and won't get going as fast as a parent would like. Donald Dycus doesn't like horseplay; so, he used a stun gun on his 14-year-old. Twice.

The Honorable Donald Thompson made the news in China when he used a penis pump to make jury trials more exciting. Allegedly, of course.

And also in the sexual vein, Austin Gullette hasn't been able to get anyone to believe that that the carnal knowledge with her was consensual. I think the prosecutor said, "I'll believe you when pigs fly!"

Pork. Let's see. You're upset with someone? Jam a pork chop in his eye! Puzzling to me, however, is the comment by "praizewarrior," who writes "He who has God's heart does not lack for His arm." What does that mean?

HOME SWEET HOME

i'm home. i'm hurtin', but i'm home. the numbers looked bad this morning, but the doctor knew they'd be coming up, and lectured me about taking it easy. heh. as if. so you may not hear a lot from me for a coupla days; but i had to come on and say thanks, thanks, THANKS! for your lovely thoughts and comments,

you people rock. bill's TOTALLY exhausted, asleep and snoring in the chair. he's been amazing. more, more, more later. right now, it's ten minutes past time for a pain pill; and YOU KNOW HOW I HATE TO BE LATE!

LUCY! what did i say to you???!!! what cookbook???!!!

Vast Wasteland in Her Head

Did the newly-installed Secretary of the United States Department of Education really do something lame-ass like call PBS and threaten someone over there so that it would not air some kind of TV show about tolerance of those that are different because kids would get the idea that we should be tolerant of homosexuality? Did I hear that right? I don't feel like reading about it ... Did she really say that television is an intimate and powerful medium?

She is a fucking idiot.

Newton Minow, who chaired the FCC for a couple years, gave his first speech, in 1961, that introduced the idea that television is a "vast wasteland." Intimate and powerful? Margaret Spellings is a fucking idiot ... she wants television to be a vast wasteland. Yes, television is intimate and powerful.

What else did Newton Minow say in that speech? After quoting from the National Association of Broadcasters' Television Code, which said [p]rogram materials should enlarge the horizons of the viewer, provide him with wholesome entertainment, afford helpful stimulation, and remind him of the responsibilities which the citizen has toward his society, he concluded:

We need imagination in programming, not sterility; creativity, not imitation; experimentation, not conformity; excellence, not mediocrity. Television is filled with creative, imaginative people. You must strive to set them free.

The power of instantaneous sight and sound is without precedent in mankind's history. This is an awesome power. It has limitless capabilities for good--and for evil. And it carries with it awesome responsibilities--responsibilities which you and I cannot escape.

I urge you to put the people's airwaves to the service of the people and the cause of freedom.

Oh, I forgot. Tolerance went out the window on election night ... mandate ... political capital ... sorry ... Ms. Spellings, when's Jerry Springer on?

SHE SHALL BE RELEASED

Update on the Patient's Progress Obtained From Third Parties

"If all my patients were like this, my job would be a helluva lot easier." -- Physical therapist

"If all the patients were like this, my job would be a helluva lot easier." -- Housekeeping staff member

"I saw her motor past here on that walker today. She's doing great." -- Nurse

"She went potty all by herself."

"Oh, fantastic. Numbers are better. You can go home tomorrow." -- Doctor

You've Come to the Right Place

Welcome to the Monkey House! This site was visited by someone from the State of New Hampshire Department of Health and Human Services. I'm sure it was job related. And I'm thinking that the person might just have hit the mother lode.

The search was for "immature adulthood."

Review of "House, M.D."

I was watching "House, M.D." on Fox, which was on after "American Idol." Two teenagers were poisoned by their jeans, as it turns out. Interesting. Probably pretty realistic. To make TV shows smack of reality, the producers hire consultants.

Sure enough. In the credits, there's a doctor consultant. Or at least someone with a medical degree, but probably not a real doctor who treated patients in a real hospital.

How would I know that?

Because I have been spending an inordinate amount of time the past few days in the hospital and got yelled at by a bald, short, evil male nurse for talking on my cell phone! Why? Because the cell phones interfere with life-saving medical equipment, he told me. But in that TV show, every fucking doctor was talking on a fucking cell phone, even faking a call from the Centers for Disease Control from a doctor's cell phone to this mother with a cell phone, whose kid was laying not more than 10 feet from her, hooked to all kinds of medical miracle machines keeping him alive. She’s lucky she didn’t kill him with her cell phone.

The kid was hooked up to the oxygen, too. Could have blown up the whole fucking hospital with that cell phone.

What the hell?

ON YOUR FEET, SOLDIER!

Report on the Patient's Progress From the Man on the Scene

The nurses are astounded with Stacey's progress. She took a stroll around the bed in the afternoon and sat down in a chair. She can lift her leg off the bed when it is out of the passive exercise contraption, which she is not supposed to be able to do. The doctor thought she had remarkable strength. I am not surprised, however, because she can kick my ass.

She got a surprise call from an out-of-town friend. Stacey was buoyed to the extreme by the call, but was disappointed because Stace thought that being under Miss Emma's spell at the time made her somewhat incoherent.

THE KNEE IS GONE

Report on the Surgery From the Man on the Scene

Stacey's tall, salt-and-pepper-haired orthopedic surgeon said that the surgery went very well and that Stacey will be on her feet tomorrow and home by the end of the week. She is now in her room overlooking the Rocky River, but very groggy. I enjoyed the view, though.

I put Judge Judy on the only tube not connected to her before I left, which was a part of the very specific instructions she left for me before I was kicked out of pre-op by the doctor and several nurses.

In quizzing the doctor about his technique in total knee replacements, he denied the use of a radial arm saw, humerously indicating that it was good only for performing elbow surgery.

The hammer and chisel were his tools of choice today with little guides clamped to the ends of the left femur and left tibia to properly shape the bones to accept the joint surfaces to be implanted.

The surgery took about an hour and a half without complication.

When I got home, the dogs grabbed the bag in which the nurse put the old parts and ran outside.

Thank you all for your concern and warm and well wishes.

TTYL

thanks for your nice comments and e-mails. i'll be home before the weekend, but i'm sure bill will be posting something funny about me -- i know he and matt are conniving to make me talk as much as possible before i'm able to really know what i'm saying.

i'm very excited to have this surgery done and over with! i know the quality of my life will be greatly improved by this. and i'll have plenty of time to catch up on my reading. and blogging. both blog-reading and posting. i know i've missed a lot recently -- i'll catch up.

again, i can't thank you enough for the kind wishes and thoughts sent my way.

ta ta for now. otu.

The Hoggy's Experience

Yesterday, at 5, the J-Dogg met us at Hoggy’s for an early dinner. Tongue-in-cheekiness doesn’t work anymore for me; so, I figure I’ll be a downright fucking mean son of a bitch.

I saw several things that made me think that this was a fairly significant day in the history of mankind, y’know, like this was some kind of confluence of events that could only happen when there is some kind of shift in the equilibrium of life as we know it.

Early on, some guy walked into the restaurant with his baseball cap on backwards. I thought that this fashion statement had gone out a long time ago; but the hostess seated him right next to a table where a guy had his baseball cap pulled on sideways. It struck me as being weird.

That’s when I noticed the bald guy with his hair cut real, real short, you know what I mean, like the guard thing on the electric razor was set at "1." Now, this normally would not have caught my eye, except that the guy had a comb-over, about 12 hairs going over his bald spot from east to west. What in the world would possess a man in his right mind to do something like this? And what would possess any sane woman to sit with there with him … and not giggle the whole time?

Then the hostess ushered in a man of about 55-to-60 years of age with a woman, probably around the same age, and seated them at a table right behind the J-Dogg, who I was facing. The woman hadn’t changed her hair style since the 60’s – it was long and straight and down to her waist; and she might have used conditioner on it back before the turn of the century, but I doubt it. And his hair … he was bald, but he had poofy hair. I don’t know how else to describe it. It was not natural. He had spent much of his day with a blow dryer to get it that way, just the right amount of poofiness. It was like Wayne Newton’s hair, y’know, like poofy to the extreme. Picture Wayne Newton bald with that same poofy-to-the-extreme hair. I don't mean to say he looked like Wayne Newton, with the black hole color hair, skin eternally-dyed pigskin and stretched like a small latex glove on Muhammad Ali's fist, just that the guy's hair was way poofed up.

Now, also seated at that table was a guy about 30 years old with an annoying thin little moustache right above his top lip. There was a little kid, about 6 years old, but his back was to me, and a woman, maybe around 30, too. And what was worse than all this is that, except for the little kid (couldn’t see his face) they … all … talked … with … food … in … their … mouths. And you know how it is. I was telling myself not to look at them, but when I was talking to the J-Dogg, my eyes would involuntarily stray to those people. And then I would turn and talk to Stacey so I wouldn’t have to look at them with … the … food … in … their … mouths; and the guy with the comb-over was right in my line of vision behind Stacey; so, my eyes would automatically be drawn to him and his dumbass-looking hair.

Our food came. The J-Dogg ate a salad. Stacey had some kind of chili mac-and-cheese that I refused to look at further because it was something that Scout the Beagle threw up on Thursday that I thought I had cleaned up and thrown in the trash. But there it was … in a little ceramic crock, steamy hot … and squooshy, even when I picked it up with 35 layers of those lumberjack paper towels. And I had some kind of stuff they call gumbo, unknown in Louisiana though, and half a BBQ pork sandwich. The bill was just over 25 bucks. I put down a 50 dollar bill when the server brought the bill.

And the server asked me, "Can I get you some change, sir?" The only time I worked in a restaurant was as a porter-bus boy on the 11-p.m.-to-7-a.m shift of an all-night restaurant one summer, but the manager trained me how to mop the floor, run the dishwasher, drain the fryer, and clean the toilets. I assume that someone trained our server to ask me that question? And did she expect me to say, "Umm, no, you can keep the $25 change as a fucking tip!" Maybe she did, but I told her she could get me the change. And a few minutes later, I got my answer in the form of a 20 and four 1’s and some coinage. You can tell from the immediately preceding paragraph that I am no fucking genius … but I do know that 20% of $25 is five dollars. If I’m the waitress, I’m going to make damn sure that the old dumb fucker paying the bill is going to get a five-dollar bill in there somewhere, not a 20 and four 1’s and some coinage, to make life easier for him … y’know, like so he doesn’t have to work that petrified brain of his very hard on a cold Friday afternoon.

It’s a wonder I didn’t just go berserk …

Jupiter Kinetic

I bought a really cool-looking Multicolor Jupiter Kinetic yesterday. Here is a little diagram of it.

It's a bunch of balls hooked together by stiff rods. It takes a 9-volt battery in the base. It cost $1.49.

There are no instructions in the box, on the box, or near the box. I think that's because on Jupiter, they don't have paper; I read that beings on Jupiter float around on the wind currents and look like big gas bags with eyes and big mouths with no teeth. And they communicate by mental telepathy. Well ... that could be true. How do you know it isn't? Prove it.

I think this Jupiter Kinetic is some kind of magic electromagnetically powered thing that turns; like once I get it going, it will be in perpetual motion, just like the gas bag beings on Jupiter. That could be true. How do you know it isn't?

The medium-sized balls, two gold and two silver (hence the Multicolor scientific designation), are attached like they might be able to spin, but the spinning thingy for each set of two balls, one gold and one silver, isn't loose enough or needs lubrication or both. The great big silver ball is heavy, like with a giant electromagnet in it, just like the Mafia uses to pick up cars and put them in the crushers. The small ball is not heavy, but it might have a small electromagnet in it. Well ... that could be true. Matybe not the Mafia part, but the rest of it could be true. How do you know it's not? Huh?

Or it could be newk-yoo-lerr powered. I bet it is. Well ... that could be true. It really could.

How do you know it isn't? Are you like ... the president? He knows everything. He's like a scientist, only way, way smarter.

The box has five pictures of the Jupiter thing, fully assembled. All the same picture. That would help the president. All his advisers show him pictures of stuff he needs to know about. Like they showed him pictures of newk-yoo-lerr bombs that were blown off. Then they showed him a picture and said it was Iraq. See? Honest mistake ... anyone would think there were newk-yoo-lerr bombs going off in Iraq. Well ... it could be true. How do you know it's not? Huh?

Yeppers, fer sure, the president could show me how this Jupiter Kinetic is supposed to work. Well, ... wait a minute ... on second thought, maybe the president won't be able to help me. On the bottom of the box, there's some other writing: "recommended for ages 8 and older."

I'll just have to figure it out myself. It can't be that hard. It's just physics.

MULTIPLE CHOICE

i’ve been:

a. busy
b. kinda sick – really, really tired
c. both of the above

if you answered "c," you’re right. i’ve been fighting some pretty serious fatigue for a couple months. i thought it was the m.s. nope. anemia. hemoglobin level 7.2 (12 is normal for women). soooo, since my knee replacement surgery’s scheduled for monday, 1/24, doctors freaked out. i’ve been having i.v. iron treatments the past couple mornings, then running to work, catching up, and trying to get everything in order for my 8-week "vacation." i say "vacation" that way cuz i’m taking my three biggest customer files home with me – i’ll be taking care of them – and anything else i can – from home.

so i have just a couple minutes to tell you where i’ve been. and why i haven’t been posting, visiting, or commenting. busy, busy. i’ll have more time in a couple weeks.

i hope.

more goings on:

Slings and Arrows

I haven't felt much like blogging recently, but someone left a comment to one of my posts, attempting 1) to be humorous and/or 2) to be insulting to this writer. I have a feeling that (s)he has some issues related to lawyers. I hear stuff like this every day. After 25 years, these "insults" are, as Quintana says in The Big Lebowski, laughable. Here's the comment, unedited and in its entirety, complete with IP address:

IP Address: 4.156.228.248
Name: QC
Email Address: accident55@hotmail.com
URL:

So you are too lazy and selfish to spend less than 15 minutes to make the sidewalk nicer for eveyrone. What a sheer lack of class you show. (As you imply you are a lawyer, that is not surprising.) I just hope someone with even less class than you (if that is possible) purposely falls on your sidewalk and sues you. Because as a lawyer, you should know that he WOULD win. Hmmm. 15 minutes of shoveling, or tens of thousands of dollars? You decide.

I suppose I could refute all of these statements and get into some petty bickering, which wouldn't get us anywhere. You can argue with a member of the Flat Earth Society until you're blue in the face and never change his or her mind. Why try?

I'll look at this in a different way. There's obviously something else roiling beneath QC's normally placid exterior. I'm not going to take it personally. (S)he is operating in some reality other than my own. And this is apparent to me because there's no way (s)he could shovel about 250 feet of sidewalk with snow 18 inches deep in 15 minutes. (S)he is operating in a different reality, and I don’t have the need to be accepted in that reality. (S)he sees the world through a set of eyes far different than my own.

In QC's reality, apparently, generalizations about people govern interpersonal relations. There are no individuals. (S)he pre-judges people and compartmentalizes them based upon idiosyncratic criteria unknown to those who come into contact with QC.

So be it.

Thank you for stopping by and reading, QC. I will not help you suffer from whatever you feel is ailing you. I wish you much peace and joy in the future.

Dead of Winter

With over 165,000 people killed by the earthquake and tsunami in and around the Indian Ocean, the deaths of 73 Americans in Iraq in the month of December is relegated to the back pages of local news sources, if it can be found at all. Yet, the War in Iraq rages on, despite the fact that "major hostilities" have been over for well over a year and a half. And Saddam Hussein was captured more than a year ago; yet, the killing goes on without any exit strategy or light at the end of the tunnel.

And one U.S. serviceman was killed in Afghanistan in December.

We honor those who gave their lives in December, when peace on Earth and good will toward men did not exist, as usual:

Cassini and the Ku Klux Klan

The Cassini space craft dropped the Huygens space probe onto Titan, one of Saturn's moons. One of the first "raw images" showed "shorelines" and "flooded plains."

"I'm shocked. It's remarkable," said Cassini Imaging Center's Carolyn Porco. "There are river channels. There are channels cut by something ... a fluid of some sort is my best guess."

I suppose that could be true. These pesky scientists have a lot of training, but I have a criticism. Their thinking is restricted to comparisons with what they have seen on Earth and assumptions that things will be the same on some world 3 billion kilometers away (See how I lapsed into the scientific metric jargon?). You see, they lack imagination.

We've seen the famous face on Mars.

And we are all more familiar with the Man in the Moon.

And then I spun the Cassini people's "raw image" around -- after all, what is "up" and "down" in space or on Titan?

It sure looks like a face to me. In fact, it looks like a hooded face to me. It is the Imperial Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan on Titan!

Okay, conspiracy theorists, go to it!!!!

NON ILLIGITIMATI CARBORUNDUM

ok, i SAY that up there, but i have to admit, they ARE wearing me down. yesterday, within ten minutes, i had to confront FOUR handicapped parking offenders. four. and there are only two handicapped parking spaces at this store.

we arrived to THREE cars occupying the two marked spots AND the lined-out area between the two spots (everybody knows that area is there to allow extra room to enter/exit your vehicle, absolutely essential if you are in a wheelchair). bill pulls up behind the two people who've entered their vehicles to leave the spaces. but i want a word (or two) with them, so bill blocks them from leaving.

Boston Legal

I am watching Boston Legal. I do not want to watch Gilbert Gottfried carrying around a fucking duck saying, "AFLAC!" And Gilbert, "Shut the fuck up!"

If the commercial comes on again, I will change the channel.

We posted a recipe over on the Kitchen site.

Deep-Fried Snickers

I'm a ragtop man. I don't have one presently, but that does not change my status as a ragtop man. Last week, with the temperature having peaked at 41 F and heading down, I saw a guy driving his Chevy Cavalier convertible with the top down. I tended to push it temperature-wise a little in favor of open motoring, but I think this guy was way over the edge. There was a slight drizzle, and the roads were salty wet. To each his own.

Last Friday, I went down to the West Side Market to one of the cheese stands and asked for a hunk of Parmeggiano Reggiano about that thick, indicating with my thumb and forefinger. The lady frowned and looked up, shaking her head a little, as if something up near the ceiling three stories above was going to smite me for my insolence or stupidity. She pointed out to me that it was going to cost a lot.

What did she mean by that? Was she making some kind of judgment about my net worth, deciding by the looks of me what I could afford and what I couldn't afford? Did I look like a food-buying newbie? So, I asked her what she meant by "a lot," to which she replied, "Twenty-five dollars."

All I could muster in response was a disappointing, "No problem," when I could have thrown out a zinger of a response; after all, she deserved it. But I didn't say anything else, except to thank her when I handed her a 20-dollar bill because it came to only $19. I could have said something snide to her at that point about her gross miscalculation, but I didn't.

I pondered earlier today about this seemingly uncharacteristic behavior, the almost zen-like understanding of the foibles of guy in the convertible and the woman behind the counter and the Buddha-like forgiveness of each. Could it be that I was approaching a higher level of enlightenment; and if that is presumptuous of me, and I believe it might be, then was I finally reaching adulthood?

I'm writing this, revealing my innermost thoughts and baring my soul, and I can see you out there, in my mind's eye, snickering at me or maybe just amusedly smiling, thinking about where the punchline might be. Admit it. You don't expect this kind of serious analysis from the right side of the screen (well, my left side, looking out, as it were; your right side). From Stacey, yeah, you’d expect that wisdom and contemplation, but not from me. Right? And who could blame you? Not me, for sure.

There is that point, then, where adulthood sets in, with all its benefits and the lack of the confining parameters that are the bane of childhood and adolescence.

I hesitate to say that I've reached that point because I had the almost uncontrollable urge to smash into the back of the fucking Hummer with the red, white, and blue flag-waving "W '04" fuck sticker and yellow "Support the Troops" ribbon that sat at the red light just in front of the white Beetle with the black “The Who” sticker and peace symbol on the back bumper. Mother-fucker ... just when I thought I had reached adulthood ...

Blogging Blues

I haven't felt like blogging lately. You are saying, "Yeah, sure." And I'm saying, "It's true!" So, I came up with an idea. Unique? I don't know.

I thought I would have some consideration for those who visit and make them feel somewhat at home by checking where they come from in my visitor stats (Granted, it's the free version; so, maybe the location is not really accurate. I figure it's the thought that counts.) and publish some tidbit of news or information. All our other readers will get an idea of what's going on in other bloggers' or lurkers' parts of the world. And don't feel slighted. Boredom sets in with overwhelming speed and ferocity nowadays. Spring is so far away. The next holiday is Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, but I'm looking forward to Groundhog Day, when I will probably be headed down to the country to fire a nail gun and whack off planks with a miter saw, weather permitting, with my good friend, DT. Aaaah, the smell of freshly sawn wood. I love it.

In any event, over in Kirksville, Indiana, which is in the northeast corner of the state, the local Girl Scout troop, with its 15 members, starts its annual cookie sale tomorrow. If you are in the area, please place your order. And if a lawyer comes up to you and asks you to buy some cookies, tell him to have his daughter stop by because he will surely take your money, but never give you the cookies! Goddamn lawyers! They're all bastards! String them all up, I say!

Next week in Ocala, Florida, starting on Friday and running through Sunday is the annual Ocala Horse Breeders' Company auction. I'm not into horses or horseracing, but it seems like the only thing that is news in Ocala is horses. What's with that? There's like a thousand horses for sale. And there are other horse auctions besides that one. I can't tell you where Ocala is located. There's probably some horse race tracks there. In Florida, I've been to Sanford, where the other team burned wooden bats in a barrel to keep warm, and Daytona Beach, where it was Bike Week and we had a run-in with some bikers, and Disney World, to which I will never return, having witnessed some guy forget that he was supposed to go into the restroom to ... well, never mind, and Cocoa Beach, where Stacey and I scared the bejesus out of some little kids with our old man mask and where I had an encounter with a cockroach the size of Rhode Island, which Stacey claimed was a "palmetto bug." That brobdingnagian cockroach is a big reason I will never reside in Florida.

In Houston, some dude is shooting laser beams at people. That could be a violation of the Patriot Act; so, he better watch where he's beaming.

Here's the story. Woman buys Labrador Retriever. Man wants to get to carnally know woman. Woman tells man to bugger off. Man stabs Labrador Retriever in the neck. Man gets arrested because that is a crime in Overland Park, Kansas.

There was no news in Saybrook, Illinois, when I checked. I did discover that Saybrook is near Foosland, which is probably about the same distance apart as Gomer and Elida out here in Ohio. And Saybrook has a population of 756. This week, Crucial Conversations by Kerry Patterson is the best selling book on Amazon in Saybrook.

It seems that some unmarked tanks passed through Vancouver, Washington. I think these are probably being shipped over to Iraq for use by the Iraqi police, you know, for running radar in Baghdad, Fallujah, and Mosul ... mostly in Mosul, I'd say. So, watch your speed up around that way.

Oh! In New York City, it is Golf World Business Network's goal to be the golf industry's No. 1 source for news and information. Someone from Advance Magazine Publishers decided to check out the old Golf-Blogger here. Impressive. But, alas, the blog is rarely about golf, in case you haven't noticed. Nobody reads golf stories. Go figure. By the way, the Old Course just outside Kabul is open for play again. Anyone interested in a golf vacation package there?

A Greensburg, PA, cop got to read 63 e-mails between a computer guy and a fake 15-year-old girl. The computer expert apparently figured out that this "15-year-old" was really the police trying to accommodate his requests and was just messin' wid 'em. That's what his lawyer made up said in court. Of course, the lawyer wasn't under oath. Hee-hee.

Keyport (New Jersey) First Aid transported an unresponsive 40-year-old, Robert Phillips, to a local hospital, where he coughed up some small plastic bags. Why did the nurses think the bags contained cocaine? Hmmmm.

Illinois 83 and North Avenue in Elmhurst is the worst intersection to drive through in Illinois. Another location for crashes of monumental proportions occurring annually is 1060 W. Addison Street in Chicago.

Still bored.

Fuck it, Dude. Let's go bowling.

MY meme

this meme from jen is really tough. i've been "difficult." sorry.

Three people whose addresses you wish you had so you could send them a card:
i'm bad about cards - don't send 'em anymore. i refuse to answer.

Three people from whom you wish you had received a card:
because of my answer above, i cannot in good conscience answer this either. what the hell - pete townshend, dr. phil, barbra streisand. heh.

Three places you would like to spend Christmas sometime in your life:
tuscany, rome, florence.

Three people you wish you could spend Christmas with (but haven't):
hmmm. i like my christmases! why must i change?

Three colors you wish Santa would have painted your bedroom walls:
we painted in july. i like it. i think it's called "ginger."

Three books you wish you had given (that you have not read, but think you would like, and therefore someone else would like) (or would like to give next year):
i'm gonna answer a different question (my brain hurts reading what the real question is.): what books have you given for gifts? "the education of little tree," "illuminata," "sandy koufax: a lefty's legacy"

Three Cookbooks You Wish You Had But Haven't Got Yet:
again, i'll answer my own question: what three cookbooks do you use most often? my betty crocker cookbook that i got for christmas when i was 13, the joy of cooking, and a gourmet magazine cookbook - don't remember the name.

Three DVD's you wish you had given to someone (that you have not watched, but think you would like, and therefore someone else would like)(or would like to give next year):
MY QUESTION: what are your favorite christmas movies? "it's a wonderful life," "scrooge," the musical with albert finney, "mickey's christmas carol"

If You Had To Choose Between The Following Gifts (to Receive), which would you choose?
a cool patchwork pillow with rich silks and velvets that doesn't necessarily match your decor - this one
a handmade patchwork quilt
an electric blanket

Three CD's you wish you had given (or would like to give next year):
MY QUESTION: what are some really good CD'S? "pete townshend: live at lajolla," "man of la mancha soundtrack," "bob marley: legend"

OW.

i don't know how to write about this topic. it's about two things -- or maybe it's just about one. i don't know. see what i mean? this one's a hard one. one of the "things" is clouded with just a little bit of anger (ok. a lot), and the other is with a lot of sadness. i'll start with the second. just because that's more recent. and led me to thinking about the first. again.

jax called me this morning to tell me that he got a phone call from a friend who had some bad news. a former coworker's 15-year-old brother was found dead. hung himself. three weeks ago, the 17-year-old son of a "buddy" hung himself. jax said to me, "what the fuck???!!!" looking for some mama wisdom. pffft. i got nothin', buddy. only tremendous sadness. freaked-out, terrified sadness. ow. ow. ow. lemme hug you RIGHT FREAKIN' NOW sadness.

i'm stuck here. do not know what more to say.

i start thinking about myself. and how even though i don't live THROUGH my children - and my husband - they are where i live. they are my heart. my life. the life i chose for myself. i am a "breeder."

shocked? i was, too, when i read that term written by a young "woman" in her blog referring to t.w. son of a bitch, it pissed me off. still does. i've wanted to write about this ever since i read it. didn't know how. still can't figure out how to make any sense here. i am so pissed and offended. not only for t.w. but for me, too, and a lot of you, dads included. i think i need some bullets here. not that kind. this kind:

THREES ABOUT ME -- stolen from jenorama -- even though she doesn't care if i do this or not. sniff. go ahead jen -- ask me for brittle.

three names you go by:
stace, stasch, mom

three screennames you have:
just one: staceylng

three things you like about yourself:
passionate, sensitive, fair

three things you dislike about yourself:
shyness in front of strangers, fearfulness, impatience

three parts of your heritage:
italian, irish, ?

three things that scare you:
loss of a loved one, the future of this earth / country. for the love of all that is good and holy, aren’t those enough???

three of your everyday essentials:
laughing with bill, my kiss good night from the jackal, a mocha, eclipse polar ice gum, and a banana. ok so that’s 5 – i’m high maintenance. not.

three things you are wearing right now:
watch, overalls, white socks

three of your favorite bands/artists (at the moment):
ella fitzgerald, harry connick, jr., the muppets (christmas just ended, okay???)

three of your favorite songs at present:
have yourself a merry little christmas, i can't think of the title of the norah jones song, and we need a little christmas.

three things you want to do in the next 12 months:
recover from first knee replacement, set date for other knee replacement so we can finally plan trip to italy, organize under kitchen and bathroom sinks

three things you want in a relationship (love is a given):
honesty, loyalty, intelligence, compassion, sense of humor. once again, i want a lot. lucky me – i got it.

three physical things about the opposite sex (or same) that appeal to you:
eyes, ass, hands. once again...

three things you just can't do:
forget, exercise regularly, give up.

three of your favorite hobbies:
read, cook, decorate

three things you want to do really badly right now:
do i have to do them badly? can’t i do them well, or at least demonstrate a minimum of competence?
shower, wash my hair, post this.

three careers you're considering:
should i have an ice cream sandwich? now? or after my shower? ohhhh. careers. i can't think about that right now. too much on my mind.

three places you want to go on vacation:
italy, italy, and italy.

three things you want to do before you die:
go to italy for a month, pass on some good italian cooking to grandchildren, know that those i love will know they’ve been loved by me with everything i’ve got.

"Daed Si Luap"

There are a couple of alternative weekly newspapers I read. Sometimes the articles are pretty good. I saw this advertisement tucked in a corner of one of the pages (page 93, to be exact):

Modern electronic recording devices? Are they serious? Paul McCartney has been dead for almost 40 years ... I heard it: "Paul is dead!" Clear as a whisper in a hurricane when the end of "I'm So Tired" on the White Album was played backwards.

And was Paul saying that? From the grave. To reach out. And touch someone. So, you see, this is nothing new. Modern electronic recording devices? The Beatles used a four-track tape recorder for that album.