. . . a lot more gets said than gets done. lou holtz
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
procrastination
(sung to the tune of carly simon's "anticipation")
(well, not really, cause i doubt that what i'm writing will be poetic enough to set to music. but i was struck by the fact that procrastination and anticipation rhymed pretty well, . . . )
it was quite dark at 5:23 this morning when hon woke me up. "come here, quick! i smell smoke!"
well, few things are scarier than waking up to the smell of smoke. first things you think about are your kids . . . they're fine. they don't live here anymore; your dogs . . . better find them quick in case the fire's in the house. no problem there. they're under foot as soon as we get out of bed; your valuables . . . well, for what they're worth. i quickly grabbed my red sox hat; and ultimately you gather your wits about you and figure out the fire's not in your house.
we stepped out into the back yard, looked east through the outback, and through the dense fog created by the smoke, we can see flashing lights. lots of flashing lights. and a flame shooting up through the smoke now and again. and the fire trucks aren't far away. maybe a couple hundred yards.
first thing i think of is hog wild barbecue. (thanks to spell check, i recently learned how to spell barbecue. i'd always struggled with it. barbaque didn't look right. barbeque looked ok, but not perfect. so did a spell check on a blog post and finally got it right. barbecue.) hog wild barbecue is a relatively new place opened just across the outback from us. we could walk there in a minute and a half. but since the streets aren't quite as direct, we could drive there in, oh, ten minutes or so.
just about every time i drive by there i think to myself, "self, one day you should stop there and try their barbecue." but i always seem to have somewhere to go. or i'm coming back from someplace. as a result, i've never been there. and i've learned since i've been in oklahoma that some of the best barbecue ever is to be found in little, out of the way, locations. and this seems to be the ideal setting for some surprisingly succulent pulled pork. or smoked brisket.
and now we have a fire. and the entire neighborhood is thick with smoke. and the weird thing is, the smoke smells a whole like like barbecue. so, of course i'm thinking that the fire is the hog wild joint burning down. makes sense, doesn't it? here's a place that has some sort of real wood smoker, probably burning all night to cook up the meat to serve today. would seem plausible that a fire could start from that.
since the smoke smells so laden with barbecue, what else can i assume besides the hog wild joint is aflame? now it's gonna be gone before i've had the opportunity to try it out. procrastination may have cost me some really great food. rats.
but wait. hon's turned the tv on. news. and the fire isn't at hog wild, it's in the apartment complex behind it. what great news!
now i'm wondering what else i might have missed because of procrastination. for example: yesterday afternoon it was hot out. one hundred and three, or so. it was wednesday. powerball night. and normally on wednesday i run over to barnes, a throw-back little market that no doubt inspired the idea of today's convenience stores. owned by barnes. i'm thinking that's his last name, but that's all he's called. the others who work there just call him barnes. he appears to be eighty something and still works twelve hours a day or so. anyhow, i felt i should drive down to barnes and get my wednesday night powerball ticket. but it was hot out. and i decided i'd wait til saturday to get my lottery ticket. means i missed wednesday night's drawing. procrastination could have cost me 45 million bucks.
who knows what else i might have missed because of procrastination? maybe if i'd done this then instead of when, if i'd done that now instead of then, or maybe if i'd just gone somewhere a little bit sooner . . . hmmmmmmm. but i can tell you one thing: as soon as the fire department takes down the blockades to the area, i'm gonna go to hog wild for lunch. or maybe i'll just wait until tomorrow.
(well, not really, cause i doubt that what i'm writing will be poetic enough to set to music. but i was struck by the fact that procrastination and anticipation rhymed pretty well, . . . )
it was quite dark at 5:23 this morning when hon woke me up. "come here, quick! i smell smoke!"
well, few things are scarier than waking up to the smell of smoke. first things you think about are your kids . . . they're fine. they don't live here anymore; your dogs . . . better find them quick in case the fire's in the house. no problem there. they're under foot as soon as we get out of bed; your valuables . . . well, for what they're worth. i quickly grabbed my red sox hat; and ultimately you gather your wits about you and figure out the fire's not in your house.
we stepped out into the back yard, looked east through the outback, and through the dense fog created by the smoke, we can see flashing lights. lots of flashing lights. and a flame shooting up through the smoke now and again. and the fire trucks aren't far away. maybe a couple hundred yards.
first thing i think of is hog wild barbecue. (thanks to spell check, i recently learned how to spell barbecue. i'd always struggled with it. barbaque didn't look right. barbeque looked ok, but not perfect. so did a spell check on a blog post and finally got it right. barbecue.) hog wild barbecue is a relatively new place opened just across the outback from us. we could walk there in a minute and a half. but since the streets aren't quite as direct, we could drive there in, oh, ten minutes or so.
just about every time i drive by there i think to myself, "self, one day you should stop there and try their barbecue." but i always seem to have somewhere to go. or i'm coming back from someplace. as a result, i've never been there. and i've learned since i've been in oklahoma that some of the best barbecue ever is to be found in little, out of the way, locations. and this seems to be the ideal setting for some surprisingly succulent pulled pork. or smoked brisket.
and now we have a fire. and the entire neighborhood is thick with smoke. and the weird thing is, the smoke smells a whole like like barbecue. so, of course i'm thinking that the fire is the hog wild joint burning down. makes sense, doesn't it? here's a place that has some sort of real wood smoker, probably burning all night to cook up the meat to serve today. would seem plausible that a fire could start from that.
since the smoke smells so laden with barbecue, what else can i assume besides the hog wild joint is aflame? now it's gonna be gone before i've had the opportunity to try it out. procrastination may have cost me some really great food. rats.
but wait. hon's turned the tv on. news. and the fire isn't at hog wild, it's in the apartment complex behind it. what great news!
now i'm wondering what else i might have missed because of procrastination. for example: yesterday afternoon it was hot out. one hundred and three, or so. it was wednesday. powerball night. and normally on wednesday i run over to barnes, a throw-back little market that no doubt inspired the idea of today's convenience stores. owned by barnes. i'm thinking that's his last name, but that's all he's called. the others who work there just call him barnes. he appears to be eighty something and still works twelve hours a day or so. anyhow, i felt i should drive down to barnes and get my wednesday night powerball ticket. but it was hot out. and i decided i'd wait til saturday to get my lottery ticket. means i missed wednesday night's drawing. procrastination could have cost me 45 million bucks.
who knows what else i might have missed because of procrastination? maybe if i'd done this then instead of when, if i'd done that now instead of then, or maybe if i'd just gone somewhere a little bit sooner . . . hmmmmmmm. but i can tell you one thing: as soon as the fire department takes down the blockades to the area, i'm gonna go to hog wild for lunch. or maybe i'll just wait until tomorrow.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
the game
it all started in january, 2003. a saturday. we'd been to phoenix for some reason or other, then, on the way back to flagstaff the blizzard hit. driving snow, driving rain, driving nightmare. oh, we made it home just find and dandy. a slow, cautious trip. but a safe trip.
and it just happened to be the night of scooter's winter formal. he was just 15. not driving yet. and he'd planned on going to the dance with cat, a girl who, while not a "girlfriend", had been a good friend for quite a while. and she'd already bought a dress for this affair. and he'd bought a new shirt and tie.
we lived in kachina village, a quaint wooded development just off i-17, eight miles south of flagstaff. cat lived in mountainaire, a similar development on the opposite side of i-17. i didn't mind so much driving over to pick up cat, but really dreaded the thought of setting out for flagstaff in the still roaring blizzard. for now it was much colder, much darker than it had been on our way up from phoenix, and the snow had been falling for a much longer time frame and accumulation measured near a foot.
but, snowplows were out, and armed with front wheel drive and a strong constitution, hon and i decided we'd drive the kids into town for the dance, then hang out in town until the dance was over. thereby eliminating one potentially treacherous trip. we dropped the kids off at the du bois center on the nau campus and crept over to a shopping center nearby.
we knew we couldn't kill two hours at the shopping center at that time of night. and we were right. but barnes and noble had just recently opened a new store a short distance from there, so we decided to brave driving in the storm just a bit further. and we got lucky, too, as the snow had started to quit. as had the wind. and the skies cleared, illuminating those bright silver stars you only see from places like flagstaff. wow! a beautiful winter night.
i didn't find barnes and noble thrilling. lots of books. and that new book smell. i grabbed a latte and cruised around the clearance tables. stuff they'd no doubt brought in for christmas that didn't sell. and i found this game. i didn't take particular note of the name on the box. but it was originally priced at $19.95 and was clearance priced at one dollar. i figured it would be a worthwhile investment. our crazy family loved playing games - cards, board games, even croquet in nice weather. and we all tend to be fairly competitive. even if the game was a bust, how far wrong could i go by buying it for a dollar. and then we picked up the kids, delivered cat to her house, and drove on home.
the game sat in the closet for a couple of months. then lynda and pz, my sister and her husband, stopped to visit a while on their way from colorado to goodyear for their daughter, kelli's wedding. and we decided to break out the game and see what it's all about.
when you spend a dollar on a game you don't expect much. but as the four of us commenced play we were all pretty taken with it. the basic concept is this: there's a deck of cards with names of famous people. some real. some fictional. some actors. some historical characters. and playing as partners, you try to get your partner to guess the name on the card by giving clues to either his achievements or his name. well, we started having fun with this right away, as it was amusing to hear the clues as they related to the names on the cards. and some of the names no one knew. some of the names a few knew. some were easy - mickey mantle, john f kennedy, elizabeth taylor types. some were tough. chaucer, or however he's spelled. and that guy who is renowned as the "father of geometry". a very wide cross section of present, past and fictional folks. (and this was pretty entertaining when lynda had to guess guys like joe montana, magic johnson, tiger woods, as she'd spent most of thirty years living in england, and never cared for nor paid any attention to sports.)
well, the real shining moment of that first game came with lynda and hon teaming up, and lynda trying to identify a contemporary individual to hon. the clues and responses went something like this:
lynda: a pastor
hon: oral roberts
lynda: the first name you might give to a male goat
hon: billy?
lynda: yes. a pastor named billy
hon: billy roberts
lynda: no, a type of cracker
hon: oh yeah! i know it! billy SALTINE!
well, that tipped off about half hour of giggling. billy saltine? for chrissakes. who the hell is billy saltine. or course, hon realized immediately that the real name she was after was billy graham. but thanks to the uproarious laughter that had ensued, she was unable to get the name out before her time ran out.
well, that story spawned a family tradition. at virtually every large family gathering since then, the game has been brought out. we took it with us to kelli's wedding, and after the reception the clan all came to the house we'd borrowed for the occasion and we played en masse. then at trent's wedding we all convened at lynda and pz's house and introduced the piazzoni side of the family to the game. and crazy janet liked it so well that she returned home to san diego and bought the game herself, so she could introduce her family to it. and several other family members have gone on-line, as that's the only place you can find it, and bought the game and paid retail price!
playing the game over the course of these past six years has made lots of great family memories. and the competitive nature of the game and the participants has caused some hard feelings, fortunately temporary, but some got riled up when scooter screamed "you're killing me, man!", or pz would start his clues with "ah, oh, ahhhhh, ummmmmm, well . . . ok, ah, this is, ahhh, hmmmmm, ahhhh . . . " and having his time run out before he even gave a clue.
so anyone reading this that has a group of family or friends that enjoy raucous trivia games, search for "time's up". you won't regret it. even if you pay more than a buck for it.
Monday, July 13, 2009
colorado mountain high (and a low or two as well)
we really like going to visit my sister in colorado. in the summertime. it's a long trip from oklahoma city, so we have to have some sort of compelling reason to go. and last week we did.
my nephew, who lives in colorado springs, and my new niece-in-law, who lives in denver, set their wedding date for saturday, july 11. there's the excuse we needed.
a great group of folks assembled at my sister's house, and for the better part of five days we enjoyed great food, great company, a few great beers, and a really neat wedding which was set in a park with green, green grass, a pond replete with lily pads and canadian geese. plus a rousing reception (in spite of the texas sized mosquitoes which showed up about mid-party).
oh yeah, and some really neat rain storms, too.
and then came sunday morning. and the trip back home.
somehow the drive to colorado seems easy. the ten hours go quickly by and you're there. maybe that's because you're a bit anxious to get there. anticipation offsets the dreariness of the travel. but the trip home? well, that ten hour drive just ain't nearly so enjoyable.
and the drive reaches the peak of misery as you're leaving dumas, texas.
we'd stopped for lunch in dalhart, and i asked hon to drive for a bit so i could rest. i napped, and awoke just as we were entering dumas - maybe half an hour. and hon was ready to give up the captain's seat. a quick stop for a driver change. then an ill-advised stop at the dairy queen, and we're back on the road again. (ill-advised because i kept spilling ice cream on myself. i couldn't figure out how i'd become so sloppy when eating. we later figured out that my cup was leaking. i felt exhonerated.)
as we were leaving town, where you'd generally expect to increase your speed and hit the open highway, we were driving along side a charcoal gray pontiac g-6. which is quite a coincidence, since we're driving jo's charcoal gray honda. the two cars were identical in color, and looked pretty much the same at first glance.
i saw the two patrol cars parked in the median, facing the other direction, just on the outskirts of town. i didn't give them much thought. i wasn't really watching my speed, but felt i was safely within normal tolerances. and as we passed by the officers, the charcoal gray pontiac beside me sped up and pulled well ahead of me.
i saw in my mirror as one of the squad cars crossed the median and headed our way. and within view of the 60 mph speed limit sign i began accelerating. and that's about when the lights came on behind me. i looked at the speedometer at that precise point - it read 55.
so, as any law-abiding citizen would, i pulled over. the officer approached the car on the passengers side and asked to see license, insurance, registration. then explained he'd stopped me because he clocked me at 58 in a 45 mile per hour speed zone. i was a little shocked. and i asked if he was certain he'd clocked me, or possibly the other charcoal gray car that had been beside me, then sped off. i got the distinct feeling that he didn't appreciate having his judgement questioned, and tersely repeated his exact words.
he told me to wait, returned to his patrol car, and i knew i was gonna receive a citation. and not one for meritorious efforts. and sure enough, five minutes later he returned with our documents, plus one speeding ticket. i was a little upset, and told him so.
but he had no sympathy. i explained again that i felt he'd clocked the other gray car. and no doubt the other car was traveling faster than i, as he pulled away before the stoppage. and why, if i was speeding, and the other car was speeding even more, stop only me? his explanation: one enforcement officer can stop only one offender. and i had to wonder why the second patrol car didn't go after the other guy, if that was the case.
so now i've got this ticket. the second consecutive return trip from colorado springs where i've gotten one. and i plan on pleading not guilty. i'm pretty adamant that he had the wrong guy, and i'm gonna protest it all i can. anyone with any ideas that may help?
and, if i don't land in jail, tune in next time when i'll discuss the fun part of the trip.
my nephew, who lives in colorado springs, and my new niece-in-law, who lives in denver, set their wedding date for saturday, july 11. there's the excuse we needed.
a great group of folks assembled at my sister's house, and for the better part of five days we enjoyed great food, great company, a few great beers, and a really neat wedding which was set in a park with green, green grass, a pond replete with lily pads and canadian geese. plus a rousing reception (in spite of the texas sized mosquitoes which showed up about mid-party).
oh yeah, and some really neat rain storms, too.
and then came sunday morning. and the trip back home.
somehow the drive to colorado seems easy. the ten hours go quickly by and you're there. maybe that's because you're a bit anxious to get there. anticipation offsets the dreariness of the travel. but the trip home? well, that ten hour drive just ain't nearly so enjoyable.
and the drive reaches the peak of misery as you're leaving dumas, texas.
we'd stopped for lunch in dalhart, and i asked hon to drive for a bit so i could rest. i napped, and awoke just as we were entering dumas - maybe half an hour. and hon was ready to give up the captain's seat. a quick stop for a driver change. then an ill-advised stop at the dairy queen, and we're back on the road again. (ill-advised because i kept spilling ice cream on myself. i couldn't figure out how i'd become so sloppy when eating. we later figured out that my cup was leaking. i felt exhonerated.)
as we were leaving town, where you'd generally expect to increase your speed and hit the open highway, we were driving along side a charcoal gray pontiac g-6. which is quite a coincidence, since we're driving jo's charcoal gray honda. the two cars were identical in color, and looked pretty much the same at first glance.
i saw the two patrol cars parked in the median, facing the other direction, just on the outskirts of town. i didn't give them much thought. i wasn't really watching my speed, but felt i was safely within normal tolerances. and as we passed by the officers, the charcoal gray pontiac beside me sped up and pulled well ahead of me.
i saw in my mirror as one of the squad cars crossed the median and headed our way. and within view of the 60 mph speed limit sign i began accelerating. and that's about when the lights came on behind me. i looked at the speedometer at that precise point - it read 55.
so, as any law-abiding citizen would, i pulled over. the officer approached the car on the passengers side and asked to see license, insurance, registration. then explained he'd stopped me because he clocked me at 58 in a 45 mile per hour speed zone. i was a little shocked. and i asked if he was certain he'd clocked me, or possibly the other charcoal gray car that had been beside me, then sped off. i got the distinct feeling that he didn't appreciate having his judgement questioned, and tersely repeated his exact words.
he told me to wait, returned to his patrol car, and i knew i was gonna receive a citation. and not one for meritorious efforts. and sure enough, five minutes later he returned with our documents, plus one speeding ticket. i was a little upset, and told him so.
but he had no sympathy. i explained again that i felt he'd clocked the other gray car. and no doubt the other car was traveling faster than i, as he pulled away before the stoppage. and why, if i was speeding, and the other car was speeding even more, stop only me? his explanation: one enforcement officer can stop only one offender. and i had to wonder why the second patrol car didn't go after the other guy, if that was the case.
so now i've got this ticket. the second consecutive return trip from colorado springs where i've gotten one. and i plan on pleading not guilty. i'm pretty adamant that he had the wrong guy, and i'm gonna protest it all i can. anyone with any ideas that may help?
and, if i don't land in jail, tune in next time when i'll discuss the fun part of the trip.
Friday, July 3, 2009
alone again, naturally (with apologies to gilbert o sullivan)
hon's been gone something like 38 hours now. and i'm surprised at how lonely i feel. especially considering she's been gone before. branson in march. salt lake last april. in the solar splash days she was gone three days here, a week there. but during all those periods i don't think i ever felt quite this lonely.
through all those i had scooter bob around. i think. and this time, even though he's not around, he's close by. and he and i went with my sister and brother-in-law to dinner last nite. after dinner i thought for sure that scooter would hang out with me a bit. but no, he needed to get home. he was tired. his injured knee was hurting - physical therapy, you know.
and suddenly i realize that i have no friends. at least not in oklahoma city. i have some acquaintences. but no friends. i have some relatives. but no friends. i might have to post a "friends wanted" ad on craigslist. nah, people would take that all wrong. i've seen those ads.
the dogs can be a whole lot of company. but they aren't very good conversationalists. oh, trixie will talk to you. but it's always the same thing. cookie, cookie, cookie. or outside, outside, outside. or, bed time, bed time, bedtime. with trixie, it's always a one sided conversation.
turbo talks a little. when he's outside and wants in he sure lets you know. and if he's in a playful mood and you haven't noticed, he'll sure let you know. but he's not much interested in baseball or nascar, so there's really no common topic for discussion.
and petunia? well, she starts talking at the weirdest times. and talks an awful lot. but damned if i've ever been able to figure out what the heck she's saying.
hon's cat, buster, the weird one, started talking last nite. he was in the dining room and just started yacking away. for no particular reason. then he came into the living room and started yacking right in my face. i know how to talk to him. i just say "shut up, buster" and shove him outta my face.
so lonely leads to boredom. wanna hear some boredom?
garage door broke last nite.
after a dozen coats of paint, i'm still sanding and re-painting the cabinets.
it's 6:22 a.m. i started writing this at 6:15. the dogs got me up to go outside at 5:49 and i'm still up. blogging. is that not the epitome of boredom?
mowed the back yard and it sure looks nice.
wish i had some bacon, eggs, biscuits. i could use a great breakfast. hmmm, maybe i should go somewhere and have breakfast. great idea. need to fill up the mower gas can and mow the front yard before it gets hot. have to go out. why not eat while i'm at it?
nope. i'm going back to bed. cause writing this has made me as sleepy as you've gotten reading it.
through all those i had scooter bob around. i think. and this time, even though he's not around, he's close by. and he and i went with my sister and brother-in-law to dinner last nite. after dinner i thought for sure that scooter would hang out with me a bit. but no, he needed to get home. he was tired. his injured knee was hurting - physical therapy, you know.
and suddenly i realize that i have no friends. at least not in oklahoma city. i have some acquaintences. but no friends. i have some relatives. but no friends. i might have to post a "friends wanted" ad on craigslist. nah, people would take that all wrong. i've seen those ads.
the dogs can be a whole lot of company. but they aren't very good conversationalists. oh, trixie will talk to you. but it's always the same thing. cookie, cookie, cookie. or outside, outside, outside. or, bed time, bed time, bedtime. with trixie, it's always a one sided conversation.
turbo talks a little. when he's outside and wants in he sure lets you know. and if he's in a playful mood and you haven't noticed, he'll sure let you know. but he's not much interested in baseball or nascar, so there's really no common topic for discussion.
and petunia? well, she starts talking at the weirdest times. and talks an awful lot. but damned if i've ever been able to figure out what the heck she's saying.
hon's cat, buster, the weird one, started talking last nite. he was in the dining room and just started yacking away. for no particular reason. then he came into the living room and started yacking right in my face. i know how to talk to him. i just say "shut up, buster" and shove him outta my face.
so lonely leads to boredom. wanna hear some boredom?
garage door broke last nite.
after a dozen coats of paint, i'm still sanding and re-painting the cabinets.
it's 6:22 a.m. i started writing this at 6:15. the dogs got me up to go outside at 5:49 and i'm still up. blogging. is that not the epitome of boredom?
mowed the back yard and it sure looks nice.
wish i had some bacon, eggs, biscuits. i could use a great breakfast. hmmm, maybe i should go somewhere and have breakfast. great idea. need to fill up the mower gas can and mow the front yard before it gets hot. have to go out. why not eat while i'm at it?
nope. i'm going back to bed. cause writing this has made me as sleepy as you've gotten reading it.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
mere meanderings
ok, i've had enough of the michael jackson garbage. yes, he made some good music. twenty or more years ago. since then he's mostly been a total freak. and a pervert. of course, he denies that he's a pervert. he just likes sleeping with little children.
not sold on that, however. i saw an old interview on tv last nite (not that i was watching anything michael jackson, it just came on during some magazine type program while i really wasn't paying attention) where he denied having any cosmetic surgery work on anything but his nose. hello? you want us to believe you only "sleep" with the little children, then tell us you haven't had anything done with your chin? your cheek bones? and how did that skin really turn so white?
so in addition to being a freak and a perv, he's also a liar. enough, already.
and suddenly the much reverend jesse jackson and the revered reverend al sharpton show up in la la land and jockey for position against each other to determine who is the family's best friend. and minister.
come to think of it, where have these guys really ever ministered? i'm not sure about sharpton, but i'm pretty darn sure jesse jackson has never had a church to minister to. but any time there is a death in the circle of black celebrities, these guys show up on camera to be spiritual support for the family. and grab as much of the spotlight as they can get. funny how they're never visably present due to the death of celebrities that aren't black. is that discrimination?
speaking of discrimination . . . the supreme court reversed sonia sotomayor's decision on a discrimination lawsuit. somewhere in new jersey, was it? because non-minority firemen who applied for a position were denied the job because no minorities had applied. and sweet sonia supported the action of the community in not filling the position, thwarting the lawsuit filed by the non-minority applicants. somehow i fear that if sonia is installed as a supreme court justice we're gonna be subjected to severe reverse-discrimination. what happened to truth, justice, fairness?
i hate painting. hon's been dabbling at painting the kitchen cabinets for a couple of months now. and seems like she's never gonna finish it. so i decided to lend a hand. took her to home depot, bought paint, clear acrylic, and came home and we both started sloshing it on. she's much more careful than i. i tend to put a lot of paint down in one pass. and i drip and splash a good bit. but it's water based and easy to clean up. and my side got covered much more quickly than hers. and i don' t think it looks bad, overall. still don't have the clear coat on, but it's shaping up nicely. first painting project i've been involved in in ages that may really work.
lastly, i'm envying scooter today. his company paid for tickets for their entire sales crew to attend a motivational seminar. lots of big shots. guliani, forbes, stoops (for those not from oklahoma, bob stoops is the sooners football coach - that's the top big shot in this area.), and he even shook hands with joe montana and colin powell. i don't swoon over montana. wasn't a 49er fan. but i do think a lot of colin powell. would love to see him. wonder if he likes sonia sotomayor.
not sold on that, however. i saw an old interview on tv last nite (not that i was watching anything michael jackson, it just came on during some magazine type program while i really wasn't paying attention) where he denied having any cosmetic surgery work on anything but his nose. hello? you want us to believe you only "sleep" with the little children, then tell us you haven't had anything done with your chin? your cheek bones? and how did that skin really turn so white?
so in addition to being a freak and a perv, he's also a liar. enough, already.
and suddenly the much reverend jesse jackson and the revered reverend al sharpton show up in la la land and jockey for position against each other to determine who is the family's best friend. and minister.
come to think of it, where have these guys really ever ministered? i'm not sure about sharpton, but i'm pretty darn sure jesse jackson has never had a church to minister to. but any time there is a death in the circle of black celebrities, these guys show up on camera to be spiritual support for the family. and grab as much of the spotlight as they can get. funny how they're never visably present due to the death of celebrities that aren't black. is that discrimination?
speaking of discrimination . . . the supreme court reversed sonia sotomayor's decision on a discrimination lawsuit. somewhere in new jersey, was it? because non-minority firemen who applied for a position were denied the job because no minorities had applied. and sweet sonia supported the action of the community in not filling the position, thwarting the lawsuit filed by the non-minority applicants. somehow i fear that if sonia is installed as a supreme court justice we're gonna be subjected to severe reverse-discrimination. what happened to truth, justice, fairness?
i hate painting. hon's been dabbling at painting the kitchen cabinets for a couple of months now. and seems like she's never gonna finish it. so i decided to lend a hand. took her to home depot, bought paint, clear acrylic, and came home and we both started sloshing it on. she's much more careful than i. i tend to put a lot of paint down in one pass. and i drip and splash a good bit. but it's water based and easy to clean up. and my side got covered much more quickly than hers. and i don' t think it looks bad, overall. still don't have the clear coat on, but it's shaping up nicely. first painting project i've been involved in in ages that may really work.
lastly, i'm envying scooter today. his company paid for tickets for their entire sales crew to attend a motivational seminar. lots of big shots. guliani, forbes, stoops (for those not from oklahoma, bob stoops is the sooners football coach - that's the top big shot in this area.), and he even shook hands with joe montana and colin powell. i don't swoon over montana. wasn't a 49er fan. but i do think a lot of colin powell. would love to see him. wonder if he likes sonia sotomayor.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
farrah and michael - a stark contrast
ironic that both should die on the same day.
i don't remember just exactly when farrah fawcett came to prominence. mid seventies, i suppose.
michael was a star before her. but i think that was mostly as the cute little boy singer with the jackson five. i think he went off on his own, becoming his own success, about the same time farrah became one of charlie's angels and adorned what must be the best selling t-shirt of all time.
so while i was strutting around in my farrah t-shirt and bell bottoms, others, primarily younger girls, were strutting around with thriller t-shirts and leg warmers. both farrah and michael were icons to different sectors of our society.
both seemed to fall from grace in later years. both for very different reasons. michael because he became reclusive. what some felt was freakish. (i'm included in that group.) farrah became sickly. fighting cancer for a number of years and finally succombing to the dreaded disease just weeks after releasing a privately filmed documentary displaying her grace to the end.
both had their fans. both had their detractors. but both left behind great numbers of fans, family, suppporters.
rest in peace to both.
i don't remember just exactly when farrah fawcett came to prominence. mid seventies, i suppose.
michael was a star before her. but i think that was mostly as the cute little boy singer with the jackson five. i think he went off on his own, becoming his own success, about the same time farrah became one of charlie's angels and adorned what must be the best selling t-shirt of all time.
so while i was strutting around in my farrah t-shirt and bell bottoms, others, primarily younger girls, were strutting around with thriller t-shirts and leg warmers. both farrah and michael were icons to different sectors of our society.
both seemed to fall from grace in later years. both for very different reasons. michael because he became reclusive. what some felt was freakish. (i'm included in that group.) farrah became sickly. fighting cancer for a number of years and finally succombing to the dreaded disease just weeks after releasing a privately filmed documentary displaying her grace to the end.
both had their fans. both had their detractors. but both left behind great numbers of fans, family, suppporters.
rest in peace to both.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)