My desktop crashed - I think for the last time - and so my online access is limited. We'll have to see.
Meanwhile, to answer some questions posted in the comments section:
Here's a link to those official coroner and government reports on the Holly crash. The gravestone shots are from the web; I haven't had a chance to visit them all, and of the bunch I'll probably only make the trip for Buddy, to be honest.
I am working. That seasonal job, to my great surprise, liked me and kept me on. The hours aren't great, given the economy, but it is a nice sign that while shifts are cut left and right I'm in the mix at all. A search for a job equal (in pay) to my old one continue with new daily vigor, but as you all know from 4+ years here I don't care to discuss my job online.
What else . . well I fell twice in recent days. Once on ice while picking LuLu up from school, and once down the stairs at the house. Mark my words, if we live here forty years those stairs will eventually seal my doom. And in case you're wondering, no matter how minor the fall, 350# does not defy gravity without paying a dire price, in this case some bruises and a cut across my butt.
I'm now DVR'ing this season of American Idol. Expect weekly posts about that, and remember to check out the TWO MILWAUKEE CONTESTANTS. Danny - the guy who lost his wife - and his buddy are both from this here town. Lisa thinks she knows Danny from somewhere, and said so before we even knew he was from Milwaukee. Who knows? Maye we know the next American Idol!
While we're talking TV, I mentioned this on Beth's site, but for the record: the episode of The Office that aired after the SuperBowl was hilarious, and I wet myself twice watching it. Classic.
And that SuperBowl MVP is B.S. Yeah, Holmes made that final catch. Whoo-hoo. It should have gone to Harrison for his 100 yard interception return. That's a minimum of a ten point swingaround (denying Arizona at least three points and gaining seven) in a game decided by four points. Hellllllooooo?
[Duke-Clemson was a slaughter. A 27 point loss for Coach K? Ugh. Sad to watch for this part-time, casual Blue Devil fan]
Ok, that's all for now. I hope to write again soon.
Published writer, compulsive reader, Old School Whovian, Match Game enthusiast, NKOTB fan, data hoarder, and - surprisingly, given that list - married with four kids. Welcome to my take on life, fatherhood, entertainment, and whatever strikes my fancy. Enjoy!
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Buddy discusses the dangers of flying
In 1958 Buddy did a very short interview with Alan Freed. Freed was a huge name in rock at the time, a DJ who did more to promote the music than just about anyone else. His fame was cut short when he was implicated in the payola scandals of the late '50's (DJ's were accepting bribes to play a record and act as if it was aired as part of a normal rotation. This would make the record appear more popular then it was, building a false momentum on the charts which in theory fed real interest. They can legally accept money for such acts, but it must be disclosed to the public )
Dick Clark was nearly undone by Payola too, but survived by selling his stake in a record company and 'co-operating' with the authorites.
Freed and Holly appear to be on very friendly terms and discuss some misadventures they've had while flying to gigs and joke about the dangers involved. In retrospect it seems an eerie foretelling, but let's get real; you and I could joke today about the dangers of driving on the highway, but if you (not me Mister) die on I-70 tomorrow we were no more psychic than you were lucky.
Dick Clark was nearly undone by Payola too, but survived by selling his stake in a record company and 'co-operating' with the authorites.
Freed and Holly appear to be on very friendly terms and discuss some misadventures they've had while flying to gigs and joke about the dangers involved. In retrospect it seems an eerie foretelling, but let's get real; you and I could joke today about the dangers of driving on the highway, but if you (not me Mister) die on I-70 tomorrow we were no more psychic than you were lucky.
Vancouver Interview - October 23, 1957
Some interesting points from this short interview in late 1957. One, Buddy is asked how long he thinks the genre of rock 'n roll will last. His answer? Only about six or seven more months. He is asked if he'd quit if that was the case or ride the next big thing, and he cheerfully responds that he'd change his style. As an explanation, he says he prefers quiter music anyway. He also states a preference for 'Oh Boy!' (about to be released at the time of the interview) over 'That'll Be the Day'.
Some people have said that Buddy misunderstood the question about rock 'n roll, but I disagree. The answer as it stands was consistent with the question and he doesn't seem confused. Maybe he was having a 'down' day, maybe he was in a bad mood, maybe he really feared for the future of rock 'n roll. Who knows?
As far as the preference for 'Oh Boy!', it may be true or it may just be a case of selling the latest release to the press.
I also think his preference for quieter music is not, necessarily, an indicator that Buddy would have abandoned rock had he lived.
Some people have said that Buddy misunderstood the question about rock 'n roll, but I disagree. The answer as it stands was consistent with the question and he doesn't seem confused. Maybe he was having a 'down' day, maybe he was in a bad mood, maybe he really feared for the future of rock 'n roll. Who knows?
As far as the preference for 'Oh Boy!', it may be true or it may just be a case of selling the latest release to the press.
I also think his preference for quieter music is not, necessarily, an indicator that Buddy would have abandoned rock had he lived.
My Autobiography by Buddy Holly
This is the complete text of an assignment Holly wrote for his sophomore English course in the spring of 1953. He was 17 (?) at the time, which seems a bit old for a sophomore. Then again he writes of starting school at age seven, which itself is a little long in the tooth for the here-and-now.
Note Buddy's snarkiness and self-deprecating humor. That fits in nicely in 2009 but I doubt they were standard or appreciated qualities in the 1950's.
I also love the last line "that's my life to the present date, and even though it may seem awful and full of calamities, I'd sure be in a bad shape without it"
* * * *
I was born one fall day, a certain particular one, because it was Sept. 7, 1936 and school for that year was starting. It also the first Monday of the month and Dollar Day, and also Labor Day, so you see, it was very eventful in more ways than one. Mr. and Mrs. L.O. Holley were the happy parents of this bouncing, baby boy, or so I'm told, because I was a little young then to be remembering it now.
My life has been what you might call an uneventful one, and it seems there is not much of interest to tell. I was born here in Lubbock and except for a year and a half when I moved to the Roosevelt School District, I have lived here all my life so far. I don't remember too much of this period of my life up until the time I started to go to school at Roscoe Wilson when I was seven. Since then I remember most of the more important events of my school days.
It was during the 4th grade that I moved to Roosevelt and continued to school there until I finished the 6th grade. I then moved back to the Lubbock School Dist. and started to Junior High School at J.T. HUTCHINSON. It was great to be back among my old grade school friends and everything clicked right off. It was really a joy to me to become a westerner of Lubbock Senior High School.
Little did I know what the last nine weeks of my sophomore year held in store for me. This will make the second time I have given my English theme for my test; I got kicked out of Plane Geometry class in the last week of school; I am behind with my Biology work and will probably fail every course I'm taking. At least that's the way I feel. But why quit there? I may as well go ahead and tell all. My father's out of town on a fishing trip, and he is really going to be proud of my latest accomplishments when he gets back.
As of now, I have these on the list.
When I was driving our pickup Sunday afternoon against a hard wind, the hood came unfastened and blew up and now it's bent so that it won't fasten down good. Before I got home, I stopped at a boy's house and he knocked a baseball in to the front glass, shattering it all over me. As if that wasn't enough, I had n appointment to apply for a job with a drafting firm yesterday afternoon and when my mother came after me, she let me drive on towards town. I had brought a picture of the choir and she was looking at it. She asked where I was, and I pointed to my picture. Just as I looked back up we hit the back of a Chrysler and tore the front end of our car up. So you see, I hope my father gets to catching so many fish that he will forget to come back for a little while.
Well, that's enough of bad things for a while. I have many hobbies. Some of these are hunting, fishing, leatherwork, reading, painting and playing western music. I have thought about making a carer out of western music if I am good enough but I will just have to wait to see how that turns out. I like drafting and have thought a lot about making it my life's owrk, but I guess everything will just have to wait and turn out for the best.
Well, that's my life to the present date, and even though it may seem awful and full of calamities, I'd sure be in a bad shape without it.
FINIS
FINALE
In other words,
THE END
Thanks to Lisa for typing in the copy!
Note Buddy's snarkiness and self-deprecating humor. That fits in nicely in 2009 but I doubt they were standard or appreciated qualities in the 1950's.
I also love the last line "that's my life to the present date, and even though it may seem awful and full of calamities, I'd sure be in a bad shape without it"
* * * *
I was born one fall day, a certain particular one, because it was Sept. 7, 1936 and school for that year was starting. It also the first Monday of the month and Dollar Day, and also Labor Day, so you see, it was very eventful in more ways than one. Mr. and Mrs. L.O. Holley were the happy parents of this bouncing, baby boy, or so I'm told, because I was a little young then to be remembering it now.
My life has been what you might call an uneventful one, and it seems there is not much of interest to tell. I was born here in Lubbock and except for a year and a half when I moved to the Roosevelt School District, I have lived here all my life so far. I don't remember too much of this period of my life up until the time I started to go to school at Roscoe Wilson when I was seven. Since then I remember most of the more important events of my school days.
It was during the 4th grade that I moved to Roosevelt and continued to school there until I finished the 6th grade. I then moved back to the Lubbock School Dist. and started to Junior High School at J.T. HUTCHINSON. It was great to be back among my old grade school friends and everything clicked right off. It was really a joy to me to become a westerner of Lubbock Senior High School.
Little did I know what the last nine weeks of my sophomore year held in store for me. This will make the second time I have given my English theme for my test; I got kicked out of Plane Geometry class in the last week of school; I am behind with my Biology work and will probably fail every course I'm taking. At least that's the way I feel. But why quit there? I may as well go ahead and tell all. My father's out of town on a fishing trip, and he is really going to be proud of my latest accomplishments when he gets back.
As of now, I have these on the list.
When I was driving our pickup Sunday afternoon against a hard wind, the hood came unfastened and blew up and now it's bent so that it won't fasten down good. Before I got home, I stopped at a boy's house and he knocked a baseball in to the front glass, shattering it all over me. As if that wasn't enough, I had n appointment to apply for a job with a drafting firm yesterday afternoon and when my mother came after me, she let me drive on towards town. I had brought a picture of the choir and she was looking at it. She asked where I was, and I pointed to my picture. Just as I looked back up we hit the back of a Chrysler and tore the front end of our car up. So you see, I hope my father gets to catching so many fish that he will forget to come back for a little while.
Well, that's enough of bad things for a while. I have many hobbies. Some of these are hunting, fishing, leatherwork, reading, painting and playing western music. I have thought about making a carer out of western music if I am good enough but I will just have to wait to see how that turns out. I like drafting and have thought a lot about making it my life's owrk, but I guess everything will just have to wait and turn out for the best.
Well, that's my life to the present date, and even though it may seem awful and full of calamities, I'd sure be in a bad shape without it.
FINIS
FINALE
In other words,
THE END
Thanks to Lisa for typing in the copy!
A phone call from Feb 28th, 1957
Here's a grand piece of history. In 1956 The Crickets were signed by Decca Records. Buddy clashed with the producers, who wanted to pigeonhole the group into a country-western sound. Without any fanfare the company refused to renew their contract, and on the last day of February 1957 Buddy placed this call to Paul Cohen of Decca.
A few things to note while listening: Buddy's obviously being given the run-around here. But throughout the six minute call he buries his temper and keeps his cool. He displays a very civil and courteous attitude, even when Cohen tactlessly tells him that if another record company wants to 'waste their money' on him, that was their problem.
Later that year Buddy was signed to another label willing to 'waste their money' on him. The Crickets released 'That'll Be the Day' and he was on his way to superstardom.
A few things to note while listening: Buddy's obviously being given the run-around here. But throughout the six minute call he buries his temper and keeps his cool. He displays a very civil and courteous attitude, even when Cohen tactlessly tells him that if another record company wants to 'waste their money' on him, that was their problem.
Later that year Buddy was signed to another label willing to 'waste their money' on him. The Crickets released 'That'll Be the Day' and he was on his way to superstardom.
'Two Timin' Woman' - by (a 13 year old) Buddy Holly
Here's a rare song by a twelve or thirteen year old Charles Hardin Holley, later better known as Buddy Holly. It was recorded in their family home at 3315 36th Street in Lubbock, Texas sometime in 1949. His voice at the time hadn't changed yet, and the vocals can be mistaken for those of a girl.
His guitar playing is far from childish though; check out the solo between 1:09 and 1:30 in the song.
(The video says he's 13 or 14 at the time, but I've double checked the recording date, and he was born 09/07/36, putting him at 12 or 13 here. )
His guitar playing is far from childish though; check out the solo between 1:09 and 1:30 in the song.
(The video says he's 13 or 14 at the time, but I've double checked the recording date, and he was born 09/07/36, putting him at 12 or 13 here. )
Fair Warning: Today will be all Buddy Holly on Slapinions
At 1:05 in the morning today, a crowd of fans stood on the Holly crash site - still a working farm field - and sang American Pie.
At the same time in Milwaukee, in an equally corny move, yours truly put on my coat and stepped onto my front porch. I raised a drink to the northwest sky, took a pull, and then poured a little to the ground. I said a quick prayer, wished their spirits well, and darted inside.
Yes, it was silly. Sue me.
I watched some of the events online from the Surf Ballroom, and I was mighty nervous when word came that the rumor mill said Clapton, Springsteen, Dylan, or McCartney would show. It would've been hard to swallow missing them, but in the end it was just empty rumor. Plenty of name acts showed, but no upper-tier superstars.
If you have a mind to, check out the Des Moines Register's spectacular barrage of coverage of the anniversary. There are interviews with personalities related to the crash, video of the event, official documents related to the crash, dowloadable posters, music and more. It is MIGHTY impressive.
I learned several things I hadn't known. Plane owner Jerry Dwyer was sued for 1.5 million (a huge sum in 1959) by Ritchie Valens mom but won the case. In fear of future lawsuits he kept the wreckage, and he still has the plane in storage somewhere. My God what a coup for a museum if he'd ever release it!
Dwyer came off as a bit of a conspiracy nut in his interview. He wouldn't discuss some things, mentioned cryptic 'truths' he knows but won't tell, etc. I get the impression that even 50 years later he's still trying to absolve his conscience. I can only assume the 'truth' he hinted at is the ridiculous notion that the pilot was shot in a scuffle aboard the plane. It's been refuted a million times, but America loves a conspiracy.
Sadly the Big Bopper's son, who wasn't born until two months after the crash, bought into some of those rumours and had his father exhumed two years ago. There's a very thorough article on the Des Moines site by the forensic scientist who did the deed. The Bopper was not shot, nor did he try to crawl away to safety. His body structure was destroyed by the impact, a fact hidden by what the article's author called stunning work by the undertaker. His face and haircut were instantly recognizable even after 48 years in the ground - this despite the fact that there were no bones left to hold up the face. He was given a new casket and reburied.
Get this: despite the fact that the original coffin carried an odor so bad the funeral home would not allow it inside during the exhumation, the casket is being PUT UP FOR SALE ON EBAY by the Bopper's son. I . . don't understand the thought process behind that.
The coroner's reports on the bodies revealed some gruesome truths, including massive damage to Valen's head. I won't go into it here, but all the reports are fascinating reading.
They've finally gotten around to putting a maker at the crash site honoring the pilot. About time.
Something I did know but had forgotten: Waylong Jennings last words to Buddy after the concert was a mocking 'Well I hope your old plane crashes'. Those words, spoken innocently, would haunt Jennings for years and escalate his addictions.
Anyway, check out the site, and be prepared for a slew of music posts here today.
Rave on!
At the same time in Milwaukee, in an equally corny move, yours truly put on my coat and stepped onto my front porch. I raised a drink to the northwest sky, took a pull, and then poured a little to the ground. I said a quick prayer, wished their spirits well, and darted inside.
Yes, it was silly. Sue me.
I watched some of the events online from the Surf Ballroom, and I was mighty nervous when word came that the rumor mill said Clapton, Springsteen, Dylan, or McCartney would show. It would've been hard to swallow missing them, but in the end it was just empty rumor. Plenty of name acts showed, but no upper-tier superstars.
If you have a mind to, check out the Des Moines Register's spectacular barrage of coverage of the anniversary. There are interviews with personalities related to the crash, video of the event, official documents related to the crash, dowloadable posters, music and more. It is MIGHTY impressive.
I learned several things I hadn't known. Plane owner Jerry Dwyer was sued for 1.5 million (a huge sum in 1959) by Ritchie Valens mom but won the case. In fear of future lawsuits he kept the wreckage, and he still has the plane in storage somewhere. My God what a coup for a museum if he'd ever release it!
Dwyer came off as a bit of a conspiracy nut in his interview. He wouldn't discuss some things, mentioned cryptic 'truths' he knows but won't tell, etc. I get the impression that even 50 years later he's still trying to absolve his conscience. I can only assume the 'truth' he hinted at is the ridiculous notion that the pilot was shot in a scuffle aboard the plane. It's been refuted a million times, but America loves a conspiracy.
Sadly the Big Bopper's son, who wasn't born until two months after the crash, bought into some of those rumours and had his father exhumed two years ago. There's a very thorough article on the Des Moines site by the forensic scientist who did the deed. The Bopper was not shot, nor did he try to crawl away to safety. His body structure was destroyed by the impact, a fact hidden by what the article's author called stunning work by the undertaker. His face and haircut were instantly recognizable even after 48 years in the ground - this despite the fact that there were no bones left to hold up the face. He was given a new casket and reburied.
Get this: despite the fact that the original coffin carried an odor so bad the funeral home would not allow it inside during the exhumation, the casket is being PUT UP FOR SALE ON EBAY by the Bopper's son. I . . don't understand the thought process behind that.
The coroner's reports on the bodies revealed some gruesome truths, including massive damage to Valen's head. I won't go into it here, but all the reports are fascinating reading.
They've finally gotten around to putting a maker at the crash site honoring the pilot. About time.
Something I did know but had forgotten: Waylong Jennings last words to Buddy after the concert was a mocking 'Well I hope your old plane crashes'. Those words, spoken innocently, would haunt Jennings for years and escalate his addictions.
Anyway, check out the site, and be prepared for a slew of music posts here today.
Rave on!
Remember
A long, long time ago...
I can still remember
How that music used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And, maybe, they'd be happy for a while.
But February made me shiver
With every paper I'd deliver.
Bad news on the doorstep;
I couldn't take one more step.
I can't remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride,
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died
- American Pie by Don McLean.
At around 1:05 AM on the morning of February 3rd, 1959 - fifty years ago nearly to the moment - a plane carrying four men crashed in a dark Iowa cornfield. No one saw or heard the crash, and it did not make front page news in many cities. I doubt anyone at the time, even the families involved, realized that people fifty years later would mourn the losses of that day.
CHARLES HARDIN HOLLEY, AKA BUDDY HOLLY, AGE 22
RICHARD STEVEN VALENZUELA AKA RITCHIE VALENS, AGE 17
J.P. RICHARDSON, AKA THE BIG BOPPER, AGE 28
(PILOT) ROGER PETERSON, AGE 21
Rest in peace gentlemen. Your music lives on.
Monday, February 2, 2009
50 Winters Later in Clear Lake Iowa
It was probably a bad time to pick a fight with Springsteen fans, coming as it does on the eve of a slew of Buddy Holly posts. I still say 'relevant today' is a vastly different beast than 'influential'.
Enough of that tho'. For what it's worth, I wouldn't choose (a living) Buddy to do the halftime show either, and Springsteen is a Holly fan, which means he has some good qualities ;) Says the Boss: "I play Buddy Holly every night before I go on. It keeps me honest!"
I should be in Iowa right now, preparing to celebrate the event with a massive tribute concert at the Surf Ballroom, where Ritchie Valens, the Big Bopper, and Buddy played their last concert.
I have tickets, rather pricy ones at that, but given my current financial climate I just couldn't pull the trigger on the trip. [My efforts to resell them fell short]. I'd been hoping for a bigger paycheck to make up the difference, but it came a week too late. There were many 'wounded in action' items after my lay-off; this is the first confirmed KIA.
Scheduled to appear at the concert:
Tommy Allsup
Big Bopper JR
The Crickets
Pat DiNizio of the Smithereens
Joe Ely
Wanda Jackson
Los Lobos
Los Lonely Boys
Delbert McClinton
Chris Montez
Cousin Brucie Morrow
Graham Nash
Peter & Gordon
Sir Tim Rice
Bobby Vee
I'm trying to look on the bright side. I'm not out a few hundred, I'm saving a few hundred by not tacking on the cost of the trip. Yeah, that's it. I'm saving money.
Besides, the Escort is down with an unknown engine problem, and with the van as our only vehicle I don't care to risk it on a 12 hour rountrip to Iowa in the middle of winter. What if it breaks down? What if it has a flat? I can't afford those repairs on top of the gas/wear and tear/food/lodging.
Fuggetaboutit.
So . . .a few tears, some Buddy playing on the computer, and some plans of a summer trip to Clear Lake brewing in my head.
[sidenote: right now I'm listening to the guitar solo on Buddy's version of Chuck Berry's Brown Eyed Handsome Man. It is a thing of beauty.]
Lost: Season 5, Episode 2: 'Jughead'
Thanks for signing up Sarah. Cute pic :) Now get your sister to join :)
* * * *
A reader asked me this week if there's been a season or two of Lost that I didn't like. I have my favorites sure, but the answer is 'no'. Some seasons are more cerebral and mysterious, while some are action-oriented and designed to move the story arc forward. Overall, it's been a pleasant mix of the two.
As far as this season goes, I'm not overjoyed but for now, still thoroughly entertained. I will say this: I find it very awkward that the show has abandoned its trademark and highly effective format. You know what I'm talking about; the events of the 'present', intercut with flashbacks to the the character's past that explain their current actions and [hopefully]deepen our attachment to them. This season it's pgone. Oh, they still jump around in time, but now it's just a plain jane attempt to track the ridiculous 'time travel' storyline.
This week, in the real world, Desmond and Penny have a son. Three years later he 'remembers' Daniel's plea and sets out to find Farraday's mother. I have a theory on this: the memory did not exist until that moment, which I imagine coincides with Daniel venturing back in time to make the request. That's absolute bunk of course. If he changed the past then it immediately becomes part of Desmond's continuity, and he should have retained the memory through the whole shebang. Heck, it should also have a) proven to him that the 'plague' was a lie, since Daniel was seen sans hazmat suit and b) helped him retain his sanity as he knows there will be a time when he is off the island again.
Anyhow, he wanders around and finds Daniel's lab dismantled and Farraday held in contempt for his experiments, which have apparently incapacitated a woman (she actually appears to have the time travel sickness seen both last season and with Charlotte this year). Cue a meeting with Widmore and a parting shot where it's evident he and Penny are off to LA to find Daniel's mother. Uh, here's my two cents. Widmore gave you her address. Your wife is being hunted by Ben and his coherts, who have a reach wider than the Atlantic. Howsabout you skip the trip and just mail her a certified letter?
On the island it's revealed that 'here' in the early '50's a US Army expedition is exterminated. Their mission was to use the island for nuclear testing, and they left a bomb - the Jughead of the episode title - behind.
The Losties are mistaken for a US Army rescue party, and, skipping over a few things here, John gets his rather unproductive discussion with Richard Alpert.
A couple things of note: the US Army does not just willy-nilly land on an island and blow it up. Therefore, at that time the island was visible and accessible, long enough for the US to chart it, select it for use, and deploy a team to utilize it. Moreoever the Others aren't surprised, since they expect a follw-up attack.
So what changed? Did the bomb serve as the source for all the energy on the island? What gives?
We learn a few other things. Daniel loves Charlotte. Big surprise. The a-hole Other is none other than a young Charles Widmore. Slightly bigger surpise.
Ellie, the blonde Other who holds Daniel at gunpoint, and seems to be an antagonist to Widmore?
Well, my money is that it's Dan's mother (note how he joked that she looked familiar) and that she is the mysterious white haired woman who guided Desmond in the past and who Ben seems to fear.
So sometime in the last fifty years Widmore and the Others had a falling out, with both Widmore and White Haired Lady assuming control of competing interests.
That's pretty much it for this week. Anything else to add folks?
* * * *
A reader asked me this week if there's been a season or two of Lost that I didn't like. I have my favorites sure, but the answer is 'no'. Some seasons are more cerebral and mysterious, while some are action-oriented and designed to move the story arc forward. Overall, it's been a pleasant mix of the two.
As far as this season goes, I'm not overjoyed but for now, still thoroughly entertained. I will say this: I find it very awkward that the show has abandoned its trademark and highly effective format. You know what I'm talking about; the events of the 'present', intercut with flashbacks to the the character's past that explain their current actions and [hopefully]deepen our attachment to them. This season it's pgone. Oh, they still jump around in time, but now it's just a plain jane attempt to track the ridiculous 'time travel' storyline.
This week, in the real world, Desmond and Penny have a son. Three years later he 'remembers' Daniel's plea and sets out to find Farraday's mother. I have a theory on this: the memory did not exist until that moment, which I imagine coincides with Daniel venturing back in time to make the request. That's absolute bunk of course. If he changed the past then it immediately becomes part of Desmond's continuity, and he should have retained the memory through the whole shebang. Heck, it should also have a) proven to him that the 'plague' was a lie, since Daniel was seen sans hazmat suit and b) helped him retain his sanity as he knows there will be a time when he is off the island again.
Anyhow, he wanders around and finds Daniel's lab dismantled and Farraday held in contempt for his experiments, which have apparently incapacitated a woman (she actually appears to have the time travel sickness seen both last season and with Charlotte this year). Cue a meeting with Widmore and a parting shot where it's evident he and Penny are off to LA to find Daniel's mother. Uh, here's my two cents. Widmore gave you her address. Your wife is being hunted by Ben and his coherts, who have a reach wider than the Atlantic. Howsabout you skip the trip and just mail her a certified letter?
On the island it's revealed that 'here' in the early '50's a US Army expedition is exterminated. Their mission was to use the island for nuclear testing, and they left a bomb - the Jughead of the episode title - behind.
The Losties are mistaken for a US Army rescue party, and, skipping over a few things here, John gets his rather unproductive discussion with Richard Alpert.
A couple things of note: the US Army does not just willy-nilly land on an island and blow it up. Therefore, at that time the island was visible and accessible, long enough for the US to chart it, select it for use, and deploy a team to utilize it. Moreoever the Others aren't surprised, since they expect a follw-up attack.
So what changed? Did the bomb serve as the source for all the energy on the island? What gives?
We learn a few other things. Daniel loves Charlotte. Big surprise. The a-hole Other is none other than a young Charles Widmore. Slightly bigger surpise.
Ellie, the blonde Other who holds Daniel at gunpoint, and seems to be an antagonist to Widmore?
Well, my money is that it's Dan's mother (note how he joked that she looked familiar) and that she is the mysterious white haired woman who guided Desmond in the past and who Ben seems to fear.
So sometime in the last fifty years Widmore and the Others had a falling out, with both Widmore and White Haired Lady assuming control of competing interests.
That's pretty much it for this week. Anything else to add folks?
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Dang it
In the end the wrong team won, but man was it a great game. Not quite 'Wide Right' or last year's masterpiece, but in the same tier, that's for sure. It was a superb effort by Fitzgerald and Warner. The latter wrapped up his ticket to the Hall of Fame, in my humble opinion, and just posted nasty numbers. If it wasn't for that dang Holmes . . .
Anyhow, congrats to all you Steelers fans out there.
Some thoughts on the whole proceedings:
1. Five hours of pregame? C'mon, it isn't a state funeral guys. What the hell do they have to talk about for 300 minutes?
2. Faith Fill's intro song to NBC Football bites. It's far less memorable than Hank Jr's piece for Monday Night Football.
3. Jennifer Hudson looked devastated during the National Anthem, with the murder of her family still weighing heavily on her mind. I'll say a prayer for her tonight.
4. If you had to slap a label on me, I guess I'd be a 'hawk'. But the steady drumbeat of color guards, fighter jet flyovers, and the on-field presence of a commanding General . . well, 'tis a tad Mussolini for my taste.
5. I still love Madden, but Al Michael's 'humorous detachment' wears thin. I must say that today, thank God, the man was 'on'.
6. This will piss off any number of readers ~ 10 to 20 years older than me, but Bruce Springsteen is about as relevant and beloved to my generation as Al Jolson is to yours. Ony the impressive volume of late-era Baby Boomers allows the man to get gigs as big as the Super Bowl. I didn't even bother watching it.
7. You know those intros where players announce their name and college? I think anyone who uses the occasion to broadcast their high school, thuggerific moniker, or anything else other than name and college should have their intro cut. Period.
8. Why is it that on a normal day of work Lisa will call home oh, NEVER, even when I miss her or need her to pick something up, but on SuperBowl Sunday she called THREE times during the game?
9. Speaking of commercials:
a. Due to its tongue-in-cheek nature and the presence of the Great Alec Baldwin, [aka 'he who I will forgive of all liberal rants because he rocketh so'] Hulu gets an A.
b. The Coke commericals were great as usual, and the insect picnic was just darling. Did . . did I just use the word 'darling'? I meant, uh, wicked cool. Dude.
c. Budweiser sucks. Their commericals are propaganda. Next.
d. The Career Builder spot dragged on too long but scored with its repetive humor.
e. NBC's in-house ads blew. I could care less about their Monday night lineup, even with the commercial.
10. Finally, a word about the Danica Patrick Go-Daddy.com ads.
a. I am all for brunettes.
b. I am all for hot brunettes.
c. I am all for naked hot brunettes.
d. I am all for naked hot brunettes lathering up in a shower.
e. I am all for naked hot brunettes lathering up in a shower on a webcam.
f. I am all for naked hot brunettes lathering up in a shower on a webcam and joined by a hot German woman.
BUT . . . .
I do not see how this sells web addresses, nor do I think this does anything for how Patrick is seen in the sports world.
I don't think she's doing anything 'wrong', but at some point she has to realize that she has a choice. Either she plays it straight OR she can make some money as a masturbatory fantasy and piss away any chance for earning respect in the racing world.
* * * *
It'll be interesting to see how the commericals were viewed elsewhere on the Web. What did you guys think?
Anyhow, congrats to all you Steelers fans out there.
Some thoughts on the whole proceedings:
1. Five hours of pregame? C'mon, it isn't a state funeral guys. What the hell do they have to talk about for 300 minutes?
2. Faith Fill's intro song to NBC Football bites. It's far less memorable than Hank Jr's piece for Monday Night Football.
3. Jennifer Hudson looked devastated during the National Anthem, with the murder of her family still weighing heavily on her mind. I'll say a prayer for her tonight.
4. If you had to slap a label on me, I guess I'd be a 'hawk'. But the steady drumbeat of color guards, fighter jet flyovers, and the on-field presence of a commanding General . . well, 'tis a tad Mussolini for my taste.
5. I still love Madden, but Al Michael's 'humorous detachment' wears thin. I must say that today, thank God, the man was 'on'.
6. This will piss off any number of readers ~ 10 to 20 years older than me, but Bruce Springsteen is about as relevant and beloved to my generation as Al Jolson is to yours. Ony the impressive volume of late-era Baby Boomers allows the man to get gigs as big as the Super Bowl. I didn't even bother watching it.
7. You know those intros where players announce their name and college? I think anyone who uses the occasion to broadcast their high school, thuggerific moniker, or anything else other than name and college should have their intro cut. Period.
8. Why is it that on a normal day of work Lisa will call home oh, NEVER, even when I miss her or need her to pick something up, but on SuperBowl Sunday she called THREE times during the game?
9. Speaking of commercials:
a. Due to its tongue-in-cheek nature and the presence of the Great Alec Baldwin, [aka 'he who I will forgive of all liberal rants because he rocketh so'] Hulu gets an A.
b. The Coke commericals were great as usual, and the insect picnic was just darling. Did . . did I just use the word 'darling'? I meant, uh, wicked cool. Dude.
c. Budweiser sucks. Their commericals are propaganda. Next.
d. The Career Builder spot dragged on too long but scored with its repetive humor.
e. NBC's in-house ads blew. I could care less about their Monday night lineup, even with the commercial.
10. Finally, a word about the Danica Patrick Go-Daddy.com ads.
a. I am all for brunettes.
b. I am all for hot brunettes.
c. I am all for naked hot brunettes.
d. I am all for naked hot brunettes lathering up in a shower.
e. I am all for naked hot brunettes lathering up in a shower on a webcam.
f. I am all for naked hot brunettes lathering up in a shower on a webcam and joined by a hot German woman.
BUT . . . .
I do not see how this sells web addresses, nor do I think this does anything for how Patrick is seen in the sports world.
I don't think she's doing anything 'wrong', but at some point she has to realize that she has a choice. Either she plays it straight OR she can make some money as a masturbatory fantasy and piss away any chance for earning respect in the racing world.
* * * *
It'll be interesting to see how the commericals were viewed elsewhere on the Web. What did you guys think?
My Super Bowl Pick
I expect I'll have a Super Bowl - er, 'Big Game' - post later in the day. But I'm going on record to say I'll root for the Cardinals, although I'd say logic points to a Steelers win.
Yesterday I watched Marquette knock Georgetown out of the top 25 with a win at the Bradley Center - how very appropriate that two Catholic Universities met up during Catholic Schools week. After seeing both the Georgetown and Notre Dame games in the last week I have to say I'm dang impressed with the Golden Eagles. They have an aggressive, suffocating defense and while undersized they attack the boards with venom.
Let it be know that traditionally I am not a Marquette fan. I am an alum of UWM, and my po' South Side self has always held the Ritchie Rich Marquette student body in a bit of contempt.
But I like this team. That's saying a lot.
I've also taken a shine to the Bucks.
Yes, they are inconsistent. Yes, they are a few years away from being Championship caliber. Yes, Bogut is hampered by injury and Redd is out for the year. And finally, yes, I know they are three games under .500.
So what? They finished a rough January with a break-even record and now have 19 of their final 31 games at home, with a relatively soft schedule.
This team is well coached and fights hard. When Bogut is in the game he can dominate it, and Charlie V is just scorching hot right now.
It'd be nice to see them squeak into the playoffs, even if it's the NBA equivalent of 'one and done'.
Yesterday I watched Marquette knock Georgetown out of the top 25 with a win at the Bradley Center - how very appropriate that two Catholic Universities met up during Catholic Schools week. After seeing both the Georgetown and Notre Dame games in the last week I have to say I'm dang impressed with the Golden Eagles. They have an aggressive, suffocating defense and while undersized they attack the boards with venom.
Let it be know that traditionally I am not a Marquette fan. I am an alum of UWM, and my po' South Side self has always held the Ritchie Rich Marquette student body in a bit of contempt.
But I like this team. That's saying a lot.
I've also taken a shine to the Bucks.
Yes, they are inconsistent. Yes, they are a few years away from being Championship caliber. Yes, Bogut is hampered by injury and Redd is out for the year. And finally, yes, I know they are three games under .500.
So what? They finished a rough January with a break-even record and now have 19 of their final 31 games at home, with a relatively soft schedule.
This team is well coached and fights hard. When Bogut is in the game he can dominate it, and Charlie V is just scorching hot right now.
It'd be nice to see them squeak into the playoffs, even if it's the NBA equivalent of 'one and done'.
Who says the bailout money won't be put to good use?
I don't know what they think is so funny - it's waaayy bigger than our old Aspire.
H/T - And Rightly So!
audio transcript:
H/T - And Rightly So!
audio transcript:
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Quote of the Day
I asked YaYa to check on the progress of a frozen pizza we had in the oven. After much hemming and hawing and one idle threat she got up and went into the kitchen.
"It's done," she called.
Lisa and I were in the living room. "Go check it," I said, a little irritated at YaYa's delay. "She probably never even opened the stove."
A moment later Lisa reported that the pizza was, in fact, perfect and good to go.
"You know what you should do?" Lisa told YaYa tongue-in-cheek, and well within my earshot. "You should march in there and tell your Daddy off for not believing in you."
YaYa hesitated. "Go," Lisa said, laughing. "Tell him off."
YaYa walked into the living room and opened her mouth to speak.
"Daddy," she said. She paused, looking very confused. "Off."
"It's done," she called.
Lisa and I were in the living room. "Go check it," I said, a little irritated at YaYa's delay. "She probably never even opened the stove."
A moment later Lisa reported that the pizza was, in fact, perfect and good to go.
"You know what you should do?" Lisa told YaYa tongue-in-cheek, and well within my earshot. "You should march in there and tell your Daddy off for not believing in you."
YaYa hesitated. "Go," Lisa said, laughing. "Tell him off."
YaYa walked into the living room and opened her mouth to speak.
"Daddy," she said. She paused, looking very confused. "Off."
Lost: "Because You Left" Season 5, Ep. 1
Last night I wrote a long and introspective look into the heart of The Dan, one which, I think, was so insightful it would spare me a good year of therapy sessions.
Naturally, I deleted it immediately :)
Instead, at the request of Sarah J I present my thoughts on the season opener of Lost. It is a long standing tradition of mine to review and analyze each episode of the show, but I was forced to DVR last weeks episode and watch it later.
The two of you who care - that would be the before mentioned Sarah J and myself - will have to forgive the delay.
(btw Sarah - register on google and sign up as a 'follower' already. Geesh.)
So, let's start off-island.
Jack's still a recovering, shattered druggie. No change there. But Kate has a lawyer knock on her door and briefly show her what he claims is a court order demanding a blood test to confirm the maternity of her 'son' Aaron. The lawyer will not divulge the name of his client.
Now, to me, this is shady. Shouldn't this guy have approached her through more formal means? Why did Kate immediately buy his story? Even if true, this is the kind of thing that she could drag out in the court system for years. It would have been prudent to attack this head on, even if only prolonging the inevitable. But Kate being Kate, her first instinct was to run for the hills in a haphazard exodus.
So who ordered the test? It could be Ben's group, as it flushed Kate into the open and knocked her off balance, but then why didn't they seize the moment and bring her into the fold? No, my vote remains with Sun, who has now paired up with Charles Widmore and obviously holds a grudge against Kate and Jack for the 'death' of Jin.
[Memo to Sun: yeah, I suppose with some creative thinking you could hold them responsible. But Ben, Widmore, the Others, and, oh, your deceitful adulterous self would hold the most long-range blame for him being there, no?
And for the record: Sun was great for four seasons, but in the bad-girl/vixen role she comes off as so soap-opera it's laughable.
Meanwhile, Sayid has broken Hurley out of the mental hospital. In a wicked and original fight scene Sayid is knocked unconscious by drugs, but not before dispatching two men. Sadly, Hurley is seen with a gun in hand, leading all of greater Los Angeles to believe him a killer.
Hurley retreats to his parent's house and eventually delivers Sayid to Jack's care. Meanwhile Ben shows up to recruit Hurley, but in a burst of independence he runs outside and surrenders to the police to avoid falling into Ben's hands.
Ben is stunned and reports his findings to the White Haired Woman. We know she is connected to Desmond and in this episode is ID'd as a possible mother for Daniel Farraday. She repeats that he has no choice: bring them all back, or the world is doomed.
Who's stalking Hurley and Sayid? It isn't Ben, not unless he set it up only to have it backfire. Widmore? Possibly.
Oh yeah, f you read between the lines it seems John isn't really dead, or if he is it's only in a Spock at the end of Khan temporary way, so I wouldn't be shocked when he shows up again in the 'present day'.
Speaking of time, it appears the island is sliding back and forth in time, or at least the Losties are. They bounce from the time of the Beechcraft crash to the post-hatch era and back again. I found it all rather ho-hum, save for Ethan's attack on John.
Even that was irrelevant, if not for the fact that it later brings Richard into the frame to fix up John, hint at time travel yet to come, and bring in some much needed comic relief.
"What's this?" John said.
"It's a compass John."
"What's it do?" John said presuming it is of vital magical importance.
"It points north John," Richard replies.
[note: there might be more to this than mere flippancy, as Eko referenced North and it's come into play before. Wait and see]
The Losties eventually come under attack by a very hostile group that kills several people and threatens to torture Juliet. Who the hell are they?
* * * * * *
I wanted to devote a separate post to the whole time travel issue, but I''ll just schlump it down here. Daniel's whole argument that the past cannot be altered, that there are 'rules' against this kind of thing . . .well, it's a sci-fi staple and there's a theoretical academic basis for it. My opinion? It's bullsh**.
Saying there are 'rules' in place to prevent a change in events is preposterous. Time is, if you will, a river. It moves forward constantly, although we always have the right-here as a constant, and someday we might very well learn how to ride against the current and revisit old sights. But the river does not care who was at the wheel while you went 'round the bend two days ago, not whether it was Abe or Jessica or the King of Siam, nor does it care if you travelled its length at all. It just is.
Presuming that there are 'rules' inserts the question of an intelligent force - a creator, or at the very least a 'manager' - into the equation; it presumes that what we do is of soooo very vital importance that the universe itself acts in direct opposition to our actions; and it downright locks down any debate on destiny vs. free will, since we can't do diddly squat without direct permission.
Plus, it is a sci-fi staple and I expect more originality from this show.
That's all folks. Til the next episode, adios.
Naturally, I deleted it immediately :)
Instead, at the request of Sarah J I present my thoughts on the season opener of Lost. It is a long standing tradition of mine to review and analyze each episode of the show, but I was forced to DVR last weeks episode and watch it later.
The two of you who care - that would be the before mentioned Sarah J and myself - will have to forgive the delay.
(btw Sarah - register on google and sign up as a 'follower' already. Geesh.)
So, let's start off-island.
Jack's still a recovering, shattered druggie. No change there. But Kate has a lawyer knock on her door and briefly show her what he claims is a court order demanding a blood test to confirm the maternity of her 'son' Aaron. The lawyer will not divulge the name of his client.
Now, to me, this is shady. Shouldn't this guy have approached her through more formal means? Why did Kate immediately buy his story? Even if true, this is the kind of thing that she could drag out in the court system for years. It would have been prudent to attack this head on, even if only prolonging the inevitable. But Kate being Kate, her first instinct was to run for the hills in a haphazard exodus.
So who ordered the test? It could be Ben's group, as it flushed Kate into the open and knocked her off balance, but then why didn't they seize the moment and bring her into the fold? No, my vote remains with Sun, who has now paired up with Charles Widmore and obviously holds a grudge against Kate and Jack for the 'death' of Jin.
[Memo to Sun: yeah, I suppose with some creative thinking you could hold them responsible. But Ben, Widmore, the Others, and, oh, your deceitful adulterous self would hold the most long-range blame for him being there, no?
And for the record: Sun was great for four seasons, but in the bad-girl/vixen role she comes off as so soap-opera it's laughable.
Meanwhile, Sayid has broken Hurley out of the mental hospital. In a wicked and original fight scene Sayid is knocked unconscious by drugs, but not before dispatching two men. Sadly, Hurley is seen with a gun in hand, leading all of greater Los Angeles to believe him a killer.
Hurley retreats to his parent's house and eventually delivers Sayid to Jack's care. Meanwhile Ben shows up to recruit Hurley, but in a burst of independence he runs outside and surrenders to the police to avoid falling into Ben's hands.
Ben is stunned and reports his findings to the White Haired Woman. We know she is connected to Desmond and in this episode is ID'd as a possible mother for Daniel Farraday. She repeats that he has no choice: bring them all back, or the world is doomed.
Who's stalking Hurley and Sayid? It isn't Ben, not unless he set it up only to have it backfire. Widmore? Possibly.
Oh yeah, f you read between the lines it seems John isn't really dead, or if he is it's only in a Spock at the end of Khan temporary way, so I wouldn't be shocked when he shows up again in the 'present day'.
Speaking of time, it appears the island is sliding back and forth in time, or at least the Losties are. They bounce from the time of the Beechcraft crash to the post-hatch era and back again. I found it all rather ho-hum, save for Ethan's attack on John.
Even that was irrelevant, if not for the fact that it later brings Richard into the frame to fix up John, hint at time travel yet to come, and bring in some much needed comic relief.
"What's this?" John said.
"It's a compass John."
"What's it do?" John said presuming it is of vital magical importance.
"It points north John," Richard replies.
[note: there might be more to this than mere flippancy, as Eko referenced North and it's come into play before. Wait and see]
The Losties eventually come under attack by a very hostile group that kills several people and threatens to torture Juliet. Who the hell are they?
* * * * * *
I wanted to devote a separate post to the whole time travel issue, but I''ll just schlump it down here. Daniel's whole argument that the past cannot be altered, that there are 'rules' against this kind of thing . . .well, it's a sci-fi staple and there's a theoretical academic basis for it. My opinion? It's bullsh**.
Saying there are 'rules' in place to prevent a change in events is preposterous. Time is, if you will, a river. It moves forward constantly, although we always have the right-here as a constant, and someday we might very well learn how to ride against the current and revisit old sights. But the river does not care who was at the wheel while you went 'round the bend two days ago, not whether it was Abe or Jessica or the King of Siam, nor does it care if you travelled its length at all. It just is.
Presuming that there are 'rules' inserts the question of an intelligent force - a creator, or at the very least a 'manager' - into the equation; it presumes that what we do is of soooo very vital importance that the universe itself acts in direct opposition to our actions; and it downright locks down any debate on destiny vs. free will, since we can't do diddly squat without direct permission.
Plus, it is a sci-fi staple and I expect more originality from this show.
That's all folks. Til the next episode, adios.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
LuLu loses her first tooth!
By January 15th LuLu had been complaining that her two (bottom) front teeth had been loose for days. While YaYa had always been eager to yank 'em out when she had a loose one, Lu chose a more sensible path of waiting for it to come naturally. Unfortunately, one of the two was too loose to be kept in use but too attached to come out on its own.
It was time for intervention.
My dental history reads like a visit to Lawrence Oliver in Marathon Man, and so I leave this tooth business to Lisa.
But LuLu met Lisa's attempts with panic and alarm
and so I had to step in. Cashing in on my reputation for squeamishness, LuLu firmly believed my claim that I just wanted to 'feel the tooth wiggle'. A few good rocking motions and a little 'oomph' and the tooth came out.
My little girl had lost her first tooth!
You cannot imagine the look of happiness and pride on her face. "I can't believe I did it!" she announced with awe.
Then, cue YaYa having a crying fit because we were allegedly giving LuLu more attention than we did her first tooth, which is a crock. Her evidence was that she couldn't find a blog post about her own tooth, which may or may not be true; either way tough tata kid, this was your sister's day.
[YaYa would later leave a note on our bed apologizing for her jealousy (her words) and asking our forgiveness. And, oh yeah, by the way can you make me Pop Tarts in the morning?]
For myself, I was stuck running to Target before they closed for the night. The normal Tooth Fairy donation is a buck, but for the first tooth we like to give a few trinkets instead. When YaYa lost her first tooth we were still living in the old, predominantly Mexican neighborhood. When the tooth gave up the ghost - again, near closing time for most stores - I had to run to the local El Rey grocery store and buy some hair doodads and a Virgin Mary necklace to place under her pillow.
LuLu got a [clearance priced] set of lip gloss in a carrying case and a set of two tooth Firefly toothbrushes that light up for a minute so the kid knows how long to brush.
Included with these items was a computer generated note from the Tooth Fairy, duly printed in a pink font.
She loved the gifts. The very next day she lost the other tooth and promptly dropped it in my bedroom, where it was never to be seen again despite an all-out search.
For that one we just left a note explaining the loss to the Tooth Fairy.
Happily, she didn't seem to mind and left behind a dollar for Lu :)
It was time for intervention.
My dental history reads like a visit to Lawrence Oliver in Marathon Man, and so I leave this tooth business to Lisa.
But LuLu met Lisa's attempts with panic and alarm
and so I had to step in. Cashing in on my reputation for squeamishness, LuLu firmly believed my claim that I just wanted to 'feel the tooth wiggle'. A few good rocking motions and a little 'oomph' and the tooth came out.
My little girl had lost her first tooth!
You cannot imagine the look of happiness and pride on her face. "I can't believe I did it!" she announced with awe.
Then, cue YaYa having a crying fit because we were allegedly giving LuLu more attention than we did her first tooth, which is a crock. Her evidence was that she couldn't find a blog post about her own tooth, which may or may not be true; either way tough tata kid, this was your sister's day.
[YaYa would later leave a note on our bed apologizing for her jealousy (her words) and asking our forgiveness. And, oh yeah, by the way can you make me Pop Tarts in the morning?]
For myself, I was stuck running to Target before they closed for the night. The normal Tooth Fairy donation is a buck, but for the first tooth we like to give a few trinkets instead. When YaYa lost her first tooth we were still living in the old, predominantly Mexican neighborhood. When the tooth gave up the ghost - again, near closing time for most stores - I had to run to the local El Rey grocery store and buy some hair doodads and a Virgin Mary necklace to place under her pillow.
LuLu got a [clearance priced] set of lip gloss in a carrying case and a set of two tooth Firefly toothbrushes that light up for a minute so the kid knows how long to brush.
Included with these items was a computer generated note from the Tooth Fairy, duly printed in a pink font.
[LuLu]
Congratulations on losing your very first tooth! I am so happy for you!
Here is a set of lip gloss for you and two very special toothbrushes. They will tell you how long to brush your teeth - I don’t want you to lose the pretty grown-up teeth you’ll be getting now!
I want you to give one of the brushes to your sister [YaYa] because my spies have told me she doesn’t brush enough!
Always watching,
The Tooth Fairy
She loved the gifts. The very next day she lost the other tooth and promptly dropped it in my bedroom, where it was never to be seen again despite an all-out search.
For that one we just left a note explaining the loss to the Tooth Fairy.
Happily, she didn't seem to mind and left behind a dollar for Lu :)
Waiter! There's a fly in my pancakes!
While making breakfast yesterday Lisa opened a 20 oz box of Bisquick pancake batter. The box was new and pristine, and the bag of mix inside was sealed and had no leaks, tears, or holes.
Despite all this, as Lisa was about to open the bag she saw a full grown and very healthy fly merrily making its way among the pancake batter. Remember, this was INSIDE A SEALED BAG.
Argh, hard to see anything in the last shot, but I believe it's crawling around the top center of the bag in that frame.
No matter, here's a video of the oddity.
Not exactly a finger in your fast-food chili, but it made for swell breakfast conversation all the same.
So did we make the pancakes? Of course - but not with that mix. We went out and bought a local generic brand, made right here in good ol' Wisconsin and not that fly-ridden General Mills factory in Minnesota.
"You should write Bisquick and complain," Lisa said as she made some yummy cranberry flapjacks.
"Darn right," I replied. "Why, we could be hundredaires!"
Seriously though, I am going to write them and complain. Yuck.
Despite all this, as Lisa was about to open the bag she saw a full grown and very healthy fly merrily making its way among the pancake batter. Remember, this was INSIDE A SEALED BAG.
Argh, hard to see anything in the last shot, but I believe it's crawling around the top center of the bag in that frame.
No matter, here's a video of the oddity.
Not exactly a finger in your fast-food chili, but it made for swell breakfast conversation all the same.
So did we make the pancakes? Of course - but not with that mix. We went out and bought a local generic brand, made right here in good ol' Wisconsin and not that fly-ridden General Mills factory in Minnesota.
"You should write Bisquick and complain," Lisa said as she made some yummy cranberry flapjacks.
"Darn right," I replied. "Why, we could be hundredaires!"
Seriously though, I am going to write them and complain. Yuck.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Notorious BIG: Bigger Than Life
"Poppa been smooth since days of underoos"
I was largely oblivious to the infamous East Coast/West Coast rap feud of the mid '90's, since it didn't seem very relevant to a white guy in Milwaukee. If my allegiance could be determined by record sales, I was pure West Coast. I owned a pair of Tupac CD's, and Dre's Chronic was on frequent rotation on my stereo.
Even so it was hard to escape the influence of East Coast rapper Biggie Smalls, a man widely respected by everyone in the industry, even Tupac. That last one says a lot, since the Biggie/Tupac feud was at the very center of the West/East Coast dispute that eventually led to both of their murders.
Notorious BIG: Bigger than Life is a documentary that traces the life of Biggie - aka Christopher Wallace. It is NOT the current feature film based on his life.
It doesn't focus soley on his music career, interviewing many of his pre-sucess friends and showing home movies of Biggie rapping at a street festival. The movie, which runs two and a half hours, also includes an interview with Biggie filmed shortly before his death, footage of the LA radio interview that may have triggered his murder, tape recordings of death threats, and actual fan video of his murder.
I took two things from the film. First, while his interview was only so-so, his personality as shown in candid moments and the home video revealed a friendly and entertaining man. Second, from all apperances he sought to avoid inciting the coastal feud, ignoring provacations and once talking himself out of a murderous ambush set up by a West Coast rapper. He rapped to escape the streets; it appears he had no intention of using his fame to meet the same predicatble end.
An aquired taste I'm sure, but if you have even a small interest in rap or the pop culture of the '90's, take a look at this documentary. Heck, it made me want to see the major motion picture of Biggie, but I'll wait for the DVD.
2.5 stars.
Here's a sample of Biggie's work, Hypnotize. Warning: sexual content and vulgar language. .
Note: some of the lyrics on the video are wrong. 'Speak my peace" etc is written as 'piece', and I believe 'Air Nike' should be "e'ery night"
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
How I spent Inauguration Day 2009
When I was in kindergarten my teacher, Sister Pat, led us into the music room across the hall to watch the Reagan Inauguration. A short time later she announced that the hostages in Iran were free, and made a point of saying it occurred on Reagan's watch.
I don't remember if I knew what any of it meant at the time, but I must have. I look at my girls, who are roughly the same age I was then, and they have depths of understanding that would seem unbelievable to someone who's never had kids. I imagine it was much the same for me back in 1981.
So I'm a little disappointed that neither of my girls were given the opportunity to watch Obama's inauguration (no word yet on whether Smiley's school showed the event). Not that I like the guy or buy his rhetoric - I think that's obvious - but it is history, and a shining example to the world that even after 200 years we still believe in a peaceful transition of power to the opposition.
28 years from now it would've been grand for one or both of them to blog about their memories of today.
[By the way, I received an email asking why I closed comments on the Bush post. It was meant as a . . .heartfelt message more than anything, and if I'd had a way to do it I would have made that entry 'private'. It wasn't intended to spark a debate and so I made sure it didn't. We'll all argue about him another time :)]
As for me, I listened to about five minutes of the speech while on the way to change a flat on my Escort. My wife had loaned the car to her friend Chris, aka She of Negative Car Karma, and in ten minutes time she'd managed to all but shred the right front tire. What's worse the car was parked on a wide swatch of snow and ice, and I foolishly failed to dig out a base for the jack. Result? The jack slipped and the car dropped, ruining the jack.
While I waited by the Escort she took my van to go pick up another jack. She called a few minutes later to say that she couldn't start the van. I told you, cars hate the woman. It turns out she had just locked the wheel and it was a one second fix.
At two I took Lump into the doc for her checkup. She is 33 inches tall and weighs 24 pounds. Those numbers place her in the 90th percentile for height (meaning 90% of girls her age are shorter) and in the 25th percentile in weight (meaning 75% of girls her age are heavier).
In other words, she's tall and skinny.
The doc thinks she has allergies, since her runny nose is perpetual, and gave us a prescription. Other than that, she's perfectly healthy. She didn't cry or even flinch during the *four* shots she got, but bawled and fought over the blood test.
Here's the part I don't like. When I tried to report in the results to Lisa I was told the doctor had already called and told her everything. This is the second time a doc from that office has done this; the first time a Doctor flat out said she didn't trust me to properly relay her findings because she 'knows how men are'.
WTF???
Mind you, this is one of the most respected and learned pediatrician offices in the city. But the reverse-sexism explicit in their calls just galls the hell out of me.
Speaking of doctors I fear I'm going to need one. My sinuses have been clogged for weeks now and now I'm staring to get very minor nosebleeds. It kind of snuck up on me. It took Lisa pointing out the amount of time I've had the problem to realize there was a problem at all.
By the way, Lump's nickname is staying for the time being. The only other option would be the discarded Smiley nickname of 'Maker of Trouble and Mayhem'. She is 100% hell when on the loose in the house, just destroying everything in her path. I took her out of her crib the other day and on the way to the floor as I put her down she grabbed two items off a shelf and threw them across the room. Anything and EVERYTHING she touches is meant to be eaten, thrown, dumped down the stairs, broken, or tipped over. There is not a Cheerio's box in Milwaukee that she hasn't scattered across the floor and I weep for my home when I see her on the prowl.
Tonight it was dance class for the kids and Lisa and wonder of wonders, when we got home the kids made it from the van to the house without tears, screaming, or violence.
It was like winning the lottery.
I don't remember if I knew what any of it meant at the time, but I must have. I look at my girls, who are roughly the same age I was then, and they have depths of understanding that would seem unbelievable to someone who's never had kids. I imagine it was much the same for me back in 1981.
So I'm a little disappointed that neither of my girls were given the opportunity to watch Obama's inauguration (no word yet on whether Smiley's school showed the event). Not that I like the guy or buy his rhetoric - I think that's obvious - but it is history, and a shining example to the world that even after 200 years we still believe in a peaceful transition of power to the opposition.
28 years from now it would've been grand for one or both of them to blog about their memories of today.
[By the way, I received an email asking why I closed comments on the Bush post. It was meant as a . . .heartfelt message more than anything, and if I'd had a way to do it I would have made that entry 'private'. It wasn't intended to spark a debate and so I made sure it didn't. We'll all argue about him another time :)]
As for me, I listened to about five minutes of the speech while on the way to change a flat on my Escort. My wife had loaned the car to her friend Chris, aka She of Negative Car Karma, and in ten minutes time she'd managed to all but shred the right front tire. What's worse the car was parked on a wide swatch of snow and ice, and I foolishly failed to dig out a base for the jack. Result? The jack slipped and the car dropped, ruining the jack.
While I waited by the Escort she took my van to go pick up another jack. She called a few minutes later to say that she couldn't start the van. I told you, cars hate the woman. It turns out she had just locked the wheel and it was a one second fix.
At two I took Lump into the doc for her checkup. She is 33 inches tall and weighs 24 pounds. Those numbers place her in the 90th percentile for height (meaning 90% of girls her age are shorter) and in the 25th percentile in weight (meaning 75% of girls her age are heavier).
In other words, she's tall and skinny.
The doc thinks she has allergies, since her runny nose is perpetual, and gave us a prescription. Other than that, she's perfectly healthy. She didn't cry or even flinch during the *four* shots she got, but bawled and fought over the blood test.
Here's the part I don't like. When I tried to report in the results to Lisa I was told the doctor had already called and told her everything. This is the second time a doc from that office has done this; the first time a Doctor flat out said she didn't trust me to properly relay her findings because she 'knows how men are'.
WTF???
Mind you, this is one of the most respected and learned pediatrician offices in the city. But the reverse-sexism explicit in their calls just galls the hell out of me.
Speaking of doctors I fear I'm going to need one. My sinuses have been clogged for weeks now and now I'm staring to get very minor nosebleeds. It kind of snuck up on me. It took Lisa pointing out the amount of time I've had the problem to realize there was a problem at all.
By the way, Lump's nickname is staying for the time being. The only other option would be the discarded Smiley nickname of 'Maker of Trouble and Mayhem'. She is 100% hell when on the loose in the house, just destroying everything in her path. I took her out of her crib the other day and on the way to the floor as I put her down she grabbed two items off a shelf and threw them across the room. Anything and EVERYTHING she touches is meant to be eaten, thrown, dumped down the stairs, broken, or tipped over. There is not a Cheerio's box in Milwaukee that she hasn't scattered across the floor and I weep for my home when I see her on the prowl.
Tonight it was dance class for the kids and Lisa and wonder of wonders, when we got home the kids made it from the van to the house without tears, screaming, or violence.
It was like winning the lottery.
Thank you Mr. President
"The true history of my administration will be written 50 years from now, and you and I will not be around to see it.”
It was my pleasure, sir, to have campaigned for you twice, to have seen you speak in person as both Governor and President, and to have witnessed your second inauguration.
On behalf of me and my wife, and our children - all four of whom I'm proud to say were born during your administration - may God bless and keep you.
Thank you.
Monday, January 19, 2009
How those Breakfast With Santa Crafts turned out
Oh, you were dying to know weren't ya? Here's some pics from that weekend.
Even Lump wanted to help her sister. Don't worry, she was in the center of the table with someone on guard to watch her movements.
and here's an example of LuLu's bracelet craftsmanship.
Even Lump wanted to help her sister. Don't worry, she was in the center of the table with someone on guard to watch her movements.
and here's an example of LuLu's bracelet craftsmanship.
RAM, Swing, and Football
I'm back online, courtesy of a buddy of mine who came over and tweaked this and that and whatchamacallit. He also installed 512 MB of RAM into my desktop, bringing it up to a whopping 1GB of memory. Whoo-hoo!
In addition, I have my TV back, via yet another buddy who stopped by a week ago and wired in some new speakers. Now not only do I have sound, I have better audio than before the kids knocked it out of service.
So, thanks go to: Tre, for the comp fix. Erv, for the repair of my beloved TV, Jeanne for the donation of the RAM, and my sister C for the speakers.
* * * * * *
New Guilty Pleasure: tuning in the the Music Choice channels of my cable system and listening to Big Band as I go about my evening. Jack Teagarden anyone?
* * * *
How about those NFC/AFC Championship Games?
At the conclusion of the Steelers game I turned to Lisa (well, actually I had to hunt her down, as she'd boycotted the room during the games) and said I was spooked. It's unnatural, I said, for both teams I wanted to win to actually pull it off.
Arizona and Pittsburgh in the Super Bowl. Wow. Kudos to them both. I'm happy for Kurt Warner, who may just seal a trip to Canton with this, and for Mike Tomlin, the coach of the Steelers, who may just outdistance the ghost of Bill Cowher after all.
In addition, I have my TV back, via yet another buddy who stopped by a week ago and wired in some new speakers. Now not only do I have sound, I have better audio than before the kids knocked it out of service.
So, thanks go to: Tre, for the comp fix. Erv, for the repair of my beloved TV, Jeanne for the donation of the RAM, and my sister C for the speakers.
* * * * * *
New Guilty Pleasure: tuning in the the Music Choice channels of my cable system and listening to Big Band as I go about my evening. Jack Teagarden anyone?
* * * *
How about those NFC/AFC Championship Games?
At the conclusion of the Steelers game I turned to Lisa (well, actually I had to hunt her down, as she'd boycotted the room during the games) and said I was spooked. It's unnatural, I said, for both teams I wanted to win to actually pull it off.
Arizona and Pittsburgh in the Super Bowl. Wow. Kudos to them both. I'm happy for Kurt Warner, who may just seal a trip to Canton with this, and for Mike Tomlin, the coach of the Steelers, who may just outdistance the ghost of Bill Cowher after all.
Friday, January 16, 2009
FYI
My desktop crashed again this morning. While it's now up and running it refuses to recognize any means of getting online, and I'm so sick of working on it I'm willing to forget the web for now and call it a day. I've grown pretty good at troubleshooting the beast, but this is beyond me.
So . . I may be back online on my home computer by this time tomorrow, or it could be down for weeks. We'll have to see. I'm assuming the former will be the case, but if not . . .take care and stay warm :)
So . . I may be back online on my home computer by this time tomorrow, or it could be down for weeks. We'll have to see. I'm assuming the former will be the case, but if not . . .take care and stay warm :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)