Saturday, June 28, 2008
Why is "sufferage" the term used for women voting? Is it the poll lines? The hanging chads? The pregnant chads? The dimpled chads?
Well if that's the case, they should have named them hanging, pregnant and dimpled Chadettes.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Today's Friday Flashback is brought to you by strawberries, peaches, and apricots. You know, the fruits of summer, because they go so well with CREAM!
Cream is Eric Clapton (guitars), Jack Bruce (vocals, bass guitar) and Ginger Baker (drums). Before the creation of Cream in 1966, Eric Clapton spent some time as the blues guitarist for a band called the Yardbirds and John Mayal's Bluesbreakers. Baker and Bruce were performing with a band called the Graham Bond Organisation.
Baker had become tired of the excessive drug use and lack of creativity in his band. Clapton felt the Yardbirds too confining. Baker gave Clapton a ride home one night and asked Clapton to start a new band with him. Clapton agreed, they grabbed Jack Bruce and began the milkings of the premier psychedelic rock band of all time. One might call it the Cream of the Crop. Not half and half... not 2%... and certainly not Skim Delight (even though it's my favorite).
From 1967 to 1968, Cream released two albums: Fresh Cream and Disraeli Gears. Songs recorded were polished versions of the 20 minute live jam sessions that became Cream's trademark. Each album had a mix of original material and dashing traditional blues covers with a spritz of psychedelia.
In 1969, the volatile relationship between Jack Bruce and Ginger Baker took it's toll on Clapton. He was tired of the quarreling and tired of the psychedelia. Time for the that smarty-pants guitar whiz kid to show the world what he's made of.
But not before Cream completed an album called Goodbye and a Farewell Tour.
Sunshine of Your Love - White Room - I Feel Free - Strange Brew - Badge
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Picked up the Yahoos from a stay with the Grandparents today. They had a lovely time. They also had a couple of balloons each (as did the cousins). The Yahoo's Uncle was tired of the balloons getting in the way so he started to pop them. This is where I thought "Oh. My Yahoos would love to take a balloon home. I'm going to save those balloons from sudden death and put them in the car."
I take the balloons to the car. The Yahoos get in the car. I open the door and say, "Hey Yahoos. We won't see the cousins again for a year. Do you wanna hug them." They say yes.
The Yahoos hug the cousins and go back to the car. Both Yahoos open a car door at once and suddenly - without warning - like 18 caged and ravenous monkeys, the balloons escape and drift into outer space.
Both Yahoos wail and cry as if they've each lost a hundred dollar bill, their first born and a litter of pigs.
What do I do? I cry too. Then drive them to purchase a replacement.
Balloons can be replaced. Other stuff cannot.
*** (Don't call the Love and Logic police on me. I realize that I caved to the pressure and didn't allow them to receive the natural consequence).
As mentioned earlier, Mark Knopfler came from a band called Dire Straits. His music is difficult to classify and doesn't fit into any particular breed or genre. I would call it RoBlueCunFo... kind of a music mut or mongrel (but we all know that muts make the best pets). It's got the body of Rock, a Bluesy leg, some Country twang in the talking, and a Folky tail.
If you aren't a Knopfler fan or have never heard of him, go see him live. He and his band are fabulously trained musicians that can engross an audience with intense sentiment. It's not the type of show that you bang your head at or even sing along. You just sit there and stare. In awe.
Today I decide to find a review of last night's show. And you know what I found? This. And it is so bad! So bad! Not bad as in the performance was bad but the article itself was bad. I means seriously. A show encased with Knopfler Magic and that's the best you can do? Geez.
Here's where I try to top it.
June 25, 2008 was a special event for music lovers. And not just music lovers of a particular genre. Salt Lake City had the pleasure of welcoming Mark Knopfler and friends to the enchanting ambiance of Abravanel Hall.
Knopfler, an accomplished musician and songwriter, is most known as the former front man and lead guitarist of Dire Straits. Knopfler has included equally trained musicians in the lineup of his band: Long time friend, guitarist and keyboardist, Guy Fletcher; classically trained rainbow-strumming guitarist Richard Bennett; upright and electric bass playing Glen Worf; the jovial drums of Danny Cummings, and the scholastically refined piano of the young Matt Rollings.
Mark Knopfler and company began with Cannibals, a tune from his first solo album Golden Heart. Although this particular song showcases the band and it's strengths, the performance seemed to be more of a sound-check exercise. Knopfler's mumbling vocals were difficult to hear but became more legible once the second song began. From then on, each song was crisp in its delivery, melodic in presentation, and zesty in sound.
The set list covered all episodes of Knopfler's career. Several tunes from the Dire Straits era, including Telegraph Road and Romeo and Juliet, included extended arrangements that emphasized the talent of each band member. The piano and bass arrangements were especially spectacular.
Knopfler's stage presentation is humble and subdued. The man loves his guitar. And he loves to play that guitar for appreciating fans. The songwriting and musicianship of Mark Knopfler awakens rhapsodic emotions that only music can awaken.
Four plus stars.
Monday, June 23, 2008
So I spent two good weeks feeling sorry for myself.
Why? Well, let's state the obvious. I do taxes in the basement for money (worse than prostitution in some circles), my train of thought is more like a caffeinated pinball machine, and I have the ugliest feet on earth (and the next three closest planets.)
In this case, I'm not feeling sorry for myself because of the taxes, thoughts or MY feet - it's more about SPOUSE'S feet. Spouse's feet aren't ugly (in fact they're downright hot). It's just that they happen to be... well... broken.
This is where you can condemn and criticize me for being selfish and worrying about myself. After all I'm not the one who endured two weeks of extreme pain only to be cut open, screwed together, and left to bare the pain of 18 bic lighters beneath each foot. And after recovering from surgery, I'm not the one who quit breathing as the portal to another world decided to open and give the option for entrance. I'm not the one who spent 5 weeks in bed. I'm not the one who must chase after the children on hands an knees to hug or discipline. I'm not the one who hasn't been able to stand or drive in three months.
True. None of this is happening to me. But far and wide, watching the love of your life suffer is pretty dang hard. The hardest yet.
We had high hopes of Spouse walking by now. For some reason, I had forgotten about that thing called rehab. I thought the magic of 12 weeks would go by, he'd stand on both feet, dramatically throw that wheelchair aside and run to me with open arms. Both of us have since realized that the rehabilitation process will be slower than tar during a snowstorm in Alaska and as gradual as the bunny hill at your favorite ski resort.
While wallowing in self-pity, the partner I "visit" with demanded we go "visiting". (I leave off the teaching part because I ain't a teacher.) My partner is in her 70s. We visit two young ladies together and they too are in their 70s. So here we sit, three wise ladies with their lives behind them and one green and self-pitying me.
They asked how things were going and I cried. I blubbered on and on about how I feel pressure to keep it together and come out of this smelling like a rose. And amongst whining spits and spats, I told them how hard it is for me not to lose it.
You know what they said? "Honey. You got to let yourself lose it."
Each one of them had a story. "When Art broke his back...." or "When Mike had his back surgery..." or "When Ken broke his ankle..." They all had a story.
Suffering is part of the human package and suffering creates depth.
It has only been three months.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Spouse and I went out (as in on a date) for the first time since "the accident" (which wasn't really an accident, because what he did was on purpose... it's what happened that became the accident.)
Anyway, when dating Spouse, I like to give myself a little spruce by powdering it up and dressing it down. One of my favorite pre-date rituals is the application of mascara.
I'm a brunette. I have long dark lashes. Mascara may or may not be necessary. When it's date night, I jam the mascara wand into the tube and wiggle it around so as to remove as much of the blacky goo as possible. Then with mouth agape and eyes open wide, I brush it on and on and on and on - to the point where I resemble a young Tammy Faye (without the cheatin' husband induced tears of course). Each time I do this, I try to see if I can get those lashes longer than the last time. They can become fantastically longanimous
Before you condemn my conceit for the fruitful foliage of my luscious lashes, you must know that these babies came with an equally endowed mustache.
I'm exhausted, deflated, defeated, fumigated (too heavy on the hair spray today), wearied, bushwacked, tristful, debilitated, spiritless, crestfallen, spent and dysphoric.
Don't you think a thesaurus exercise is the best way to battle the gloom?
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
What's the difference between having a passion for something (shoes, music, goat cheese) and being eccentric? Is eccentric always bad? Is eccentricism a word? Am I merely filling up space? Probably. But let's discuss it further, shall we?
According to http://www.dictionary.com/ passion is described as: "strong or extravagant fondness, enthusiasm, or desire for anything: a passion for music." Isn't that neat that the dictionary dot com people chose music to show passion? Neat!
And here's what they say about eccentricism (and no - eccentricism isn't a word, but we'll get to it's creation and origin and means for removal in a minute)... eccentric is: 1. deviating from the recognized or customary character, practice, etc.; irregular; erratic; peculiar; odd: eccentric conduct; an eccentric person. 2. not having the same center; not concentric: used esp. of two circles or spheres at least one of which contains the centers of both.
So basically, in other words, otherwise stated, for those that are slower than most, a passion is a love for something and eccentricism is being possessively off-center because of your passion.
Thanks to the help of one very crucial ingredient, the metamorphosis from passion to eccentric can be seen in 3 easy steps. (How about a prize to the first person who can tell me the secret ingredient?)
- You have a passion. You love it, it excites you, you can't wait to get up in the morning. And since you still maintain a humble existence, you get all fired up about learning more of your passion. Neat!
- You become an expert on your passion. You start talking about it, you pontificate your passion to those who could care less. Humilty starts to fly down the crapper. Who knew humilty had wings!
- You think you're better than all humans in the universe! You are eccentric! You don't need to learn now because you know it all. The humility somehow escaped the sewage treatment plant (evidently wings don't help you swim). And all that passion you used to have? It too escaped the treatment. See, that jazzy passion is now required in order for you to have any sort of confidence. Trapped in passion space! With the pigs in space! Ahhh!
Now. In order to rid oneself of the eccentricism possession, one must call an eccentricism excorcist. Also called a therapist. Funny how they rhyme, isn't it?
Where am I going with this? Who knows! I just watched Into the Wild and I'm reading, like... three different self-help books.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Have you every received something in the e-mail that you wish you, yourself had written? Oh how I wish I wrote this. I could e-mail this to you all, but e-mail is too convenient. I'm going to make you come here to read it.
The Bible in a Nutshell
"In the beginning, which occurred near the start, there was nothing but God, darkness, and some gas. The Bible says, 'The Lord thy God is one', but I think He must have been a little older than that.
"Anyway, God said, 'Give me a light!' and someone did, so then God made the world. He split an Adam and made Eve. Adam and Eve were naked, but they weren't embarrassed because mirrors hadn't been invented yet.
"Adam and Eve disobeyed God by eating a bad apple, so they were driven from the Garden of Eden. Not sure what they were driven in though, because they didn't have cars yet. Adam and Eve had a son, Cain, who hated his brother as long as he was Abel.
"Pretty soon all of the early people died off, except for Methuselah, who lived to be, like, a million or something.
"One of the next most important people was Noah, who was a good guy, but one of his kids was kind of a Ham. Noah built a large boat and put his family and some animals on it. He asked some other people to join him, but they said they would like to have a rain check.
"After Noah came Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Jacob was more famous than his brother, Esau, because Esau sold Jacob his birthmark in exchange for some pot roast. Jacob had a son named Joseph who wore a really colorful loud sports coat.
"Another important Bible guy was Moses, but his real name was Charlton Heston. Moses led the Israel Lights out of Egypt and away from the evil Pharaoh after God sent ten plagues on Pharaoh's people. These plagues included frogs, mice, lice, bowels, and no cable. God fed the Israel Lights every day with manicotti.
"Then he gave them his Top Ten Commandments. These include don't lie, cheat, smoke, dance, or covet your neighbor's stuff. Oh, yeah, I just thought of one more: Humor thy father and thy mother.
"One of Moses' best helpers was Joshua who was the first Bible guy to use spies. Joshua fought the battle of Geritol and the fence fell over on the whole town.
"After Joshua came David. He got to be king by killing a giant with a slingshot. He had a son named Solomon who had about 300 wives and 500 porcupines. My teacher says he was wise, but that sure doesn't sound very wise to me.
"After Solomon there were a bunch of major league prophets. One of these was Jonah, who was swallowed by a big whale and then was barfed upon the shore.
"There were also some minor league prophets, but I guess we don't have to worry much about them.
"After the Old Testament came the New Testament. Jesus is the star of the New Testament. He was born inBethlehem in a barn. (I wish I had been born in a barn too because my mom is always saying to me, 'Close the door! Were you born in a barn?' It would be nice to say, 'As a matter of fact I was, Mom!')
"During His life, Jesus had many arguments with sinners like the Pharisees and the Republicans. Jesus also had twelve opossums. The worst one was Judas Asparagus. Judas was so evil that it's why they named that terrible vegetable after him.
"Jesus was a great man. He healed many leopards and even preached to some Germans on the Mount. But the Republicans and all those guys put Jesus on trial before Pontius the Pilot. The Pilot didn't stick up for Jesus. He just stood there and washed his hands instead.
"Anyway's, Jesus died for our sins, then came back to life again. He went up to Heaven but will be back at the end of the Aluminum. His return is foretold in the book of The Revolution."