The Trifecta Connection of some 2010 Celebrity Deaths

I am back. It has been almost three weeks since my last post. Oh well, I have been kind of busy and when I have not been, I just did not have the inspiration to post.

I could make this a year in review-type thing and that is not my style. I could go on about all the trouble in the world, see the Korean peninsula, AfPak/Iran, and that would only depress me, you too, once I was done. I could throw a melancholy blanket over what could be the world going to hell in a handbasket. I mean as scary as things seemed or could have seemed during the Cold War era, at least we knew that really there were only two main players (US and USSR) with a number of proxies. The nukes threat was contained because of mutally assured destruction (MAD). Retaliate first and ask questions later.....after the fall out later but later nonetheless. It is not the case now. Fucking strange and insane forces, small, shit house countries have nuclear capabilities and bombing them back to year one may actually be an improvement. Kind of like a karmic reset button being hit. How do you take any solace in that?

I did not want to go there and yet I still did. Enough about that, though. (Isn't that wonderful, get you all depressed heading into a new year, 2011, and all, so welcome aboard this train...it may be Pelham 123).

What I wanted to comment on today is this. I just realized something and I kick myself for not seeing it earlier. This has been a bad year for the movie "Airplane". It was released 30 years ago and was wet your pants funny (oh yeah for real wet your pants funny please check out www.peopleofwalmart.com, scary place that WalMart....or much of America. Not an insult, I am just saying). A barrage of quick jokes, so that if one missed another one hit you rather quickly.

It was sad enough when Lloyd Bridges died years ago (he will always be Izzy Mandelbaum to me...or the father of Jeff Bridges, the Dude, and the new Rooster Cogburn). 2010 saw the death of three (at least) actors who appeared in that seminal film. I am upset that I did not count the threes, when we were at two, and see that pattern. We, as if you or I had anything to do with it, Peter Graves (Captain Clarence Ovuer), Barbara Billingsly and Leslie Nielsen (Dr. Rumack, and don't call me Shirley). I was so caught up in the Billingsly/Tom Bosley deaths that I missed her Airplane connection and how Leslie Nielsen was the third. (Again, I am stretching, like most of us do, to "prove" that celebrity deaths come in threes or are connected by threes).

Again, I will give props to that film. In fact, and I am sure that I have mentioned this before, the movie lead to one of my brother's better quips. Back in 1985, when he was 14 turning 15, he had gone to San Franscisco with our father (who art in heaven....or so we have ourselves believe). He got some sort of walking pneumonia, was barking up a lung and pissed off my, and his, father. Due to his illness, they came home early. While waiting in the airport, they see the flight crew getting on the plane. My brother yells, "Don't eat the fish!". My father cracks up. It was the fish that killed off the pilots, etc. leading to the whole disaster spoof in the movie.

There you have it. Something pleasant to make us forget the earlier part of the posting. Ciao!

I have to remark on the 30th Anniversary of John Lennon's death, a day late

I am back. I just wanted to make a couple of notes about things right now. One, yesterday was the 30th anniversary of the shooting death of John Lennon. Again, only because we live in a base 10 world does the number "30" have any meaning. Then again, it seems like only yesterday that I was sitting in my room, listening to Q107 (or Chum FM) at about 10:30pm on a Monday night. Eventually, the DJ would break in to say that John Lennon had been shot and then on towards 11, that John Lennon had died. It was sad but sadder still that "Double Fantasy" would be his last album released while he was alive.

I cannot say I was devastated. I mean, other musicians had died in my life time (see John Bonham, Keith Moon, Marc Boland for example) so this was nothing new. It was unique that he was shot dead by a stranger, crazy strangers. Thirty years later, I am now coming to connect the dots and seeing why my parents always told me not to "talk to strangers". Strangers are not friends that you just have not met. They are, apparently, the merchants of death and will shoot you dead. Of course, I think that is only true if you are famous and the stranger is crazy....always blaming the deranged stranger.

Imagine there's no heaven....It's easy if you try......No hell below us, above us only sky. I just felt the need to quote John Lennon. He deserves at least that. And, no, I will not be making any Yoko Ono jokes. Though, Sally Jesse Raphael called and she wants her big ass framed eyeglasses back. Then again, the same could have been said about Elton John, so maybe it was a '70s thing.

I just wanted to make mention of the whole John Lennon thing. I did and I am done.

Ciao!

Whatever

I am back. I mean it has been almost a month since my last post. It was November 2nd, going by Blogger. It has been a November, though it ain't over yet. It has had that normal strange feel to it. Let me begin.

Since they, who ever the fuck "they" are, call them the Powers That Be or TPTB for short, decided to change when we go back to standard a couple of weeks, there is too much light when the kids are out on Halloween. I liked it nice and dark at that time. It made for a more treacherous drive or night out. It was dark and the kids were like targets. Actually, they were more like a box of chocolates, you never knew which one you would hit because you could not see them in the dark. Now, that fun has been taken away from us all.

We finally "fall back" on the first Saturday in November and suddenly I recall why November is the month of death. Those shortening days (daylight) make for a bleak sight. The sight gets more bleak when the clouds roll in and the rain begins. It is like the sun fucking set at 2 pm. Where am I, in Iqaluit?

It is because of this that I understand the highish suicide rate in Sweden (and those Ingemar Bergman films). Even with sunny, Arctic high pressure systems (and bitter cold), the winter and short bursts of sunlight make it all seem so bleak and dreary. I can understand the desire to end it all. Then again, I look at those blond Swedish hotties, so blond, so soft-skinned, and I do see a better way. It may involve getting out of bed only to eat, drink, shower and piss but while in bed, there is no bleak...just genitals rubbed raw. What a way to go, n'est ce pas?

So, yesterday, we had a bizarre warm front. Rain, dark, but unseasonably warm. It beat the hell out of rain, dark, cold and a damp that eats right through you. It was a balmy day and I enjoyed it, despite the rain.

Why am I talking about the weather? It is all that global warming. Actually, it beats thinking about those omens pointing to an apocalypse. Where does it begin....the mid-east (Iran/Israel) or the Korean peninsula? Those seem to be the only two choices. I am not sure what to bank on, except there will be no winners. The Chinese can try to sit back and let the North Koreans do their bidding....a war with the US, fought by proxies in North and South Korea (is it 1950 all over again?). Not sure, how the Chinese figure they can win? I mean, what exactly do they win? What is the end game?

They can pump up the nationalism all they want. They still have some big trouble ahead. They NEED food. The US has food and can increase supplies. Not sure how all of this gets them there. Not sure how cozying up to Iran (need the oil and gas) and North Korea (historical ally and counter balance to US interests in South Korea AND another way to embarrass Japan) furthers them in the long run (need food, etc, not nations that can force nuclear issues and war on or near their borders---do you think that Pakistan and India do not get involved if there is some nuke fun between Iran and Israel?).

I have not felt this sense of trepidation in over 25 years, at the height of the Cold War. At least, during the Cold War, mutually assured destruction kept both parties sober. Here, the threats are more asymmetrical, thus there are nations with nukes that have nothing to lose, as they have done nothing to allow their people to increase and better their standards of living and lives.

Of course, they will all blame the West and the US, except the US did not starve and profit from the misery of North Koreans (the military and ruling Kim family did that, regardless of any justification and rationalization they would provide). Yes, the US was a little more active with regard to Iran, but that does not excuse the theocracy and imams from feathering their nests at the expense of the Iranian people. As bad as the Shah may have been, and he was not good, the Ayatollahs are worse. At least, the Shah did not hide behind the cloak of spiritual purity. He was honest, if I may use that term, in that he ran the country with no pretense of "do as I say, not as I do". It was more an attitude of "I got mine, now do as I say."

As I think about it, either way is not really good. Meet the new boss (though that boss is 30 years established) same as the old boss. Power is the great corruptor. I got mine, now the rest of you fuck off and pay me alms. Man, it is good to be the king. How do I get me some of that TPTB stuff....or have I gone all conspiracy theory on my own ass?

I hate to think that there is something to all those conspiracy theories regarding the state of the world but sometimes, I just do not know. I cannot see a Cabal of insiders, like the Free Masons, running the world. I look but cannot see it. They may have access to the guns and levers of power and I still cannot see how they can get away with it. At some point, there would be disgruntled folks who would (attempt) to come clean. It would get out, there are really no secrets. Fuck, TMZ or the National Enquirer would catch them.

Now, to end this (post, not my life) but Cher is in a new movie. Yeah, Cher is back. Actually, as I think about it, maybe it is time to end my life....fuck it! Let's get rid of Cher instead. "Do you believe...."?

Ciao!

Where is the third death?

I am back. It will be brief, however. I have not come across that "third" death, yet. I know that people say these deaths come in threes but NOBODY has ever provided me with the evidence of that. Where is the evidence?

On a more synchronistic note, while tooling around the "dial" the past week or so, came across a television show that I have seen before. It is some Canadian dude looking for "stars" from television shows of his past. The first one I saw had him trying to track down Mindy Cohn from "The Facts of Life", which showed him meeting and talking to both Charlotte Rae and Chloris Leachman (she can be very disturbing).

The episode, or part thereof, that I saw, had him trying to track down.....Erin Moran, Joannie Cunningham from "Happy Days". They did show him talking to Marion Ross (her television mother) and apparently, Scott Baio refused to meet with the dude, especially on camera. Having watched the two Scott Baio reality shows where he gets married and has a baby, I am not sure why he refused. It is not as if he is really doing anything.

Anyway, the point I am trying to make is that the timing was "odd" given the recent passing of Tom Bosley, Howard Cunningham and Erin Moran's television father (not to be confused with Father Dowling, his later character who would team with the nun played by Tracy Nelson, daughter of 50s television child, Ricky Nelson--who would go onto record many a song and album, have a drug problem and die in a plane crash in and around 1985/6--freebasing at the back of the plane as I recall).

See, I mentioned a "Father" without resorting to "diddling little boys" jokes. Then again, Tracy Nelson did play a girlfriend of George Costanza from Seinfeld who looked like Jerry. It brought up the whole latent homosexuality of George in relation to Jerry. He was, presumably, fucking a girl that looked like his best friend. How odd was that?

I am not sure how I got from "A" to "B" there but the thoughts flowed so perfectly that I will not hassle the process. I must run.

Ciao!

This stuff writes itself

I am back. I guess I have to start this post in the only way I know how. I never used to think that these letters were true until it happened to me. Let me begin, I am a junior at a small, mid-western college.......


Know what I am getting at? Bob Guccione, founder, editor and publisher of Penthouse magazine (and then tried porn empire) died yesterday at age 79. As I spoke of my youth yesterday, with Barbara Billingsly and Tom Bosley, Guc was part of my adolescence. A very pleasurable part, I might add.


I had done the "Playboy" thing early in junior high. I recall buying their 25th anniversary edition in February 1978. By about this time, or earlier, I noticed that my father had a small stash of Penthouse in our basement bathroom. I can recall ones from 1974 or so and a British version, which he had bought in England. At that point in my life, my desire for more "raunch" made Penthouse a better bet than Playboy. Besides, I grew to enjoy (what a pun) Penthouse Forum and Xaviera Hollander's (The Happy Hooker) monthly article (again, more raunch than anything else). Of course, the King of Raunch, with decent production quality was Hustler.


Larry Flynt did something that neither Bob Guccione or Hugh Hefner did. He made no pretense about art and went straight for the "pink". His stuff was far more explicit and he made no bones about it. He was a peddlar of smut and he was proud.


Guccione's empire came tumbling down and Hefner's was and is in deep trouble. It seems Flynt's style, being open about his intentions, made his porn empire flourish. I know that Hef sees his magazine as one of style with some naked babe photos, but the reality is that it is eye candy. Men are very visual and the more explicit (showing the pink and the split beaver shots) hits that spot better than pretending to be more artistic. Then again, what do I know, a spank mag is a spank mag.


I guess that is all I have to say about that right now. Ciao!

Who's Next?

I am back. Wow, over a month since my last post. I would say that I was busy and not so sure how true that it. In any event, I am back.

They say, and I do not know who the fuck "they" are, that famous deaths come in 3s. Then again, I am wondering how to define "famous", so I may ramble (more than usual) here.

Sad to report, that Barbara Billingsly, June Cleaver, died at the age of 94 earlier this week. She was the quintessential mother of the quintessential family of the 1950s in Leave it to Beaver (yes, that begets her line, which does take on a number of meanings, "Ward, you were awfully rough on the Beaver last night....insert laughs here), a television show of the 1950s. Then Tom Bosley, Howard Cunningham, died at age 83. He was the quintessential father of a "typical" family in the 1950s on Happy Days a television show from the 1970s.

I am looking to where the 3rd death will fall and looking for the pattern. In some ways, the theme may be 1950s families, so Robert Young (Marcus Welby in the 1970s) and Ozzie Nelson (The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet) could be in line except they both have met their maker. I cannot think of another 50s themed show that could lose a parent figure unless Marion Ross (the mother on Happy Days, though she did "die" as the grandmother in That 70s Show, she was Red's mother and Eric Forman's grandmother). She could be on deck.

Of course, it could be that the pattern is family shows and then there is the two decade thing (Leave it to Beaver in the 1950s and Happy Days in the 1970s), so maybe it from shows in the 90s that I must look. Does that mean that John Goodman is next (could have been given his weight but he has dropped a ton of pounds---then again, Stevie Ray Vaughan finally fought his demons and cleaned himself up from the drugs, but that did not stop a helicopter crash from killing him). That would be one ironic death, then. What about Roseanne (whatever her last name is) or Tim Allen? I am just not sure where to look and am not into running a death pool.

Well that is about all for now. Ciao!

WTF???

I am back. This will be short and sweet. But what the fuck??!!!!! Reggie Bush, as a student, commits the horrible crime of making the University of Southern California oodles of money and accepting some sort of compensation, contrary to NCAA rules. The New York Athletic Club is going to strip him of his Heisman Trophy.

OJ Simpson, a previous Heisman Trophy recipient, KILLS two people in a master act of butchery (though it may have been a crime of a passion.....good old crazy passion) and he was not stripped of his reward.

Is there something wrong with this picture?

Now, I will say that OJ was not convicted of the crime, so he is presumed innocent. Then again, he was found guilty of armed robbery and kidnapping relating to his actions in Las Vegas. So we have somebody who is convicted of a CRIME and one who broke an organizational rule, and the criminal can keep his Heisman (assuming he did not hock it to pay for the search for Nicole Simpson and Ron Goldman's killer or the civil suit he lost against the families of his victims, er alleged victims.

Again, I will say WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!??????????

Happy new year one and all. Shana Tova. Ciao!

Cleveland, Ohio....not sure how to label it

I am back. I wanted to go on about Cleveland. I just saw a story that Ricky Martin's autobiography will be published in November. Along with the Justin Beiber memoir, all I can say is "Who the fuck cares?!!!?". Do I give a shit about the 16 years in Justin Beiber's life? What exactly has he done? He will be gone in no time (Beibs better milk it while you can, remember Corey Haim--great Canadian reference). Ricky Martin? I thought you were gay when you had your "Livin' La Vida Loca" hit a good ten years ago. What have you done for us lately, except come out of the closet? Nothing! Autobiography? Who in the world gives a shit?



If you do give a shit about reading about either of the two, fuck off! Get off of my blog, you do not belong here.



Now, that bit of unpleasantness is done, I can begin. I do not recall if I mentioned that Cleveland is a weird sort of city. Back in 1978, I visited Cleveland and we stayed in a downtown hotel, as my uncle had his zipper job (coronary bypass surgery) done at the Cleveland Clinic. I recall arriving at the hotel on the Saturday and finding the hotel to be okay. On the Sunday, there were three separate and unrelated murders on the same street as the hotel. Wonderful city to visit.

Since that time (we were back in the area, suburbs, in 1994 as the Wife's sister, husband and kids were living there as my brother in law worked at a Veterans hospital as a neurologist to attain his green card. Once he got it, he moved, with his family, to Dayton. He wanted to be a big fish in a small pond as opposed to a small fish in a big pond (like Cleveland or Toronto). With the building of the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame, Quicken Loans Arena (formerly the Gund), Progressive Field (formerly Jacob's Field where the Indians play) and Brown's Stadium, the downtown was not quite as dangerous. It was a bit iffy, but we did not feel in any danger.

As we walked the first evening there and all day Friday, I noticed a number of downtown hotels and saw an architecture tour. The downtown architecture was quite interesting as it was created in an earlier day, well before the Cuyohoga River caught fire, and when Cleveland, and all of the Rust Belt from Detroit to Buffalo, was a happening area in the US. That time is done.

All of the cities have tried to create a downtown resurgence with draws (stadii) into the downtown area. Driving through downtown Buffalo on the way to Cleveland was a bit brutal. I do recall my family staying at the Hyatt (right beside the old Aud, and new HSBC arena) in downtown Buffalo, once. Normally, we stayed and we stay in a suburban hotel (shopping and driving friendly), though given the utter crap at Burlington Crap Factory and the other stores we visited, there was not much shopping to be had, so the next journey that way may be a long time coming.

Cleveland is no different. In fact, that first night we wandered towards Progressive Field and ended up in a great little restaurant area near everything. We did have a good Vietnamese meal while sitting outside. The fried calamari that I shared with the Lad was awesome. This restaurant was right across from Lola, the restuarant owned by Food TV Iron Chef and personality, Michael Symon. It was a cool area.

We did hit a dead mall in the city center. It was a refurbished train station, but was seedy. That includes the people milling about inside and outside. We did notice that there was a lot of security and police (on bikes) hovering around. I did not feel unsafe just very aware of our surroundings. I wanted to keep moving as that makes us a more difficult target. The Wife and Lad do not seem to notice, or if they do, do nothing about it. It is left to me to do something and point it out to them.

This usually leads to "I don't want to think that.....". My usual response is "You have that thought partially correct. Stop it with "you don't want to think."" That often gets me in trouble, not for speaking the truth, but because The Wife does not want to hear the truth. So we go into a whole notion of "want" and what that means. Again, do not really care about the conclusions you "want" to draw, just need to know the conclusion and does it fit the facts as observed. Reality versus fantasy type stuff. No problem with the fantasy, but would like to know what will DONE to bring it about.

Anyway, we did get to wander in the heat of the city. It did not seem that busy for a midday on a Friday, but what do I know. Many banks and many homeless, not sure if that really differs from any US city, though.

The Wife says it was seedy in downtown Cleveland. I am not sure of her frame of reference, though. I have seen it far worse. I would not necessarily call it seedy. I have seen it, and the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame, I really have no burning desire to see it again.

The biggets upside is that while were away, the Wife's sister and family were in our hometown for a "visit". Again, my addle minded sister in law tried to pressure the Wife to accommodate her and the Wife actually held firm. We did come back on Saturday on the off chance that they would compromise their visit, but of course, that did not happen. We did not see them (I am not complaining and really could care less). The Wife was disappointed that she did not see her neices and nephew, but she had no desire to see her sister or brother in law (I did not care about any of it). Needless to say, the Wife has not called her sister and he sister has not called (I no longer pick up the phone when I see her number, I have nothing to say to her. She serves NO purpose in my life).

Ciao!

Mountain Dew made with Real Sugar and sadly, it is better for you!

I am back. I am back from a family journey to Cleveland, Ohio and the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame. The Hall of Fame was pretty cool, but very American and Dinosaur music centric. There was not much there of 80s and 90s bands and not much of other earlier English bands. There was Rolling Stones and Beatles exhibits and a bit of the Who but no Kinks stuff. It was kind of a taste of things that made me realize how vast the, or my, world of music actually is.

I did like the display of Joy Division/New Order stuff that included the hand written lyrics to "Blue Monday" (a personal favorite 80s song--1984 by New Order) and some of the other hand written song lyrics including Joe Walsh's "Life's Been Good to Me".

That is the set up. We hit a grocery store in Niagara Falls, NY. At the Tops, I saw a special bottle of Mountain Dew. In fact, it had the same graphics for Dew that I recall from the late 60s and early 70s. The most amazing thing was (a) Mountain Dew was mentioned on last night's episode of Mad Men and (b) this limited type of Mountain Dew was made with "REAL SUGAR", like it and all sodas used to be made. It was not made from high fructose corn syrup but real sugar. That is a throwback.

It made me realize that in our race to progress, they, PepsiCo and other soft drink makers, talking about you, too Coca-Cola Company, took something that was crap for you and made it even WORSE. It has been shown that fructose is worse, or is that better, at creating obese and diabetic users than sucrose. As the fructose (high fructose corn syrup) is cheaper to use than sucrose (sugar) the companies started to substitute the cheaper, and more toxic, sweetener for the other.

It is scary that using sugar is now retro. It has me really thinking about capitalism and consumerism in our society. I am a capitalist, yet find the consolidation of goods into multinational marketing companies (that is pretty much what P&G is since they have outsourced the manufacturing of their labelled goods, eg. Crest, Scope, et al.) an attempt to capture economies of scale. They do that very well, and it makes sense. Then the quality falls to shit.

If we go back to a simpler time, such as the 60s or 70s, many companies were more regionally focused. They did have a stake in the communities that they serviced, too. Their employees lived in the regions in which they sold their products and there was a sense of pride. In fact, I recall many delis of that day and they made their own smoked meats, etc. I do not recall any large outbreaks of tainted food. These smaller merchants had a reputation to uphold, so quality, though more variable, was by and large, better. Today, with factory farming and corporately made deli meats, we get large scale Listeria outbreaks and death.

Things may be cheaper in terms of actual costs and that has coincided with a drop in quality (taste and nutrition in terms of foodstuffs). Have we really progressed? I am starting to wonder. Then again, I come from an entrepreneurial family, so I am biased against large corporate interests. Or maybe, that is the anarchist in my talking. Then again, I think and am not afraid to do so. My eyes are wide open, so I am not a sheep and I will, I cannot help it, point out that the Emporer is not wearing any clothes.

Seeing Mountain Dew with a retro label and pointing out that this batch was made with REAL SUGAR, made me think about it. I do not think we are better off like this. I have no issue with life's creature comforts but sucking back soft drinks with high fructose corn syrup while sitting plastered to the big screen television (or gaming system of your choice) while my blood sugar rises faster than my waist size is not the way to go. It has become apparent that the multinational food companies are taking a page out of the tobacco companies' books. They are making products that if used correctly shorten the life of the consumer and thus are killing off their own consumers instead of keeping them alive and consuming for as long as possible.

Is that sustainable?

Just a thought, ciao!

I did come back

I am back. I told y'all that I would be back in less than a month. I kept up my end of the bargain, how about you?

Sort of let the summer writing lie fallow and felt that I should pick things up while I feel that I can. I have let too much go by without commenting.

I was coming into work earlier in July. It has been rather warm around these parts this summer. It is so unlike last summer. There has not been much rain, or an inordinate amount of rain, and we have seen some very hot and humid days and nights. I can recall the Wife and I being outside, on our deck, after dark and noticing that the air was not moving. Thick and not moving air does not make for easy sleeping without air conditioning. We have the A/C and that thankfully, has not been a problem (unlike 2007). Of course, by about this time in 2007, we really did not need the air conditioner.

So there I was going into the office. I am at a stop light and notice a woman in a tank top, a blue tank top, and shorts. Normally, it being summer time, I love seeing the ladies in various states of undress. Sadly, from a purely asthetic standpoint, this woman was rather, er, curvy?, no, lumpy?, possibly, foldy. I know that "foldy" is not a word but this woman had MANY folds of skin. That was not the worst part. She was not wearing a bra, obviously, and her tits were hanging down to the folds that should have been her stomach. Then, again, her stomach folds my have dropped to her knees. Gravity is really unforgiving on the excessively overweight.

Then again, it has been so hot and muggy that my testicles are hanging lower than ever. I have to be careful when I wear boxer shorts. I could be walking around and then my nuts fall out the side of my boxers and shorts and hang by my ankles. I was walking and kicked myself in the nuts with the heel of my sandles. It was just a clip, but it hurt nonetheless.

Oh, these dog days of summer with their trials and tribulations. Bad eye candy as I drive and my nuts getting in the way of a simple walk, these are a few of my favourite summer activities. Ciao!

Lamentations for the passing of my aunt, a great aunt

I am back. Almost a month between postings, how bad is that? Pretty damn bad, I would say. My most sincere apologies. I have kept you coming back for nothing for all that time. How thoughtless of me. Did any of you call or write to see that I had not dropped dead? For the record, I have not. I am very much alive and kicking.

The funny thing, if this is funny, is that no sooner did I post that Monday in July, when I got word, on the Wednesday, that my aunt, my father's sister (not the one who died in 2006), had died. She was ill and in palliative care, so the end was coming soon, but I did not think it was to be that soon. She is and will continue to be dearly missed.

My aunt was a beautiful person. She had a tough life, in a relative sense, and did not deserve that. Her life and that of MIL coincided. Both were the smartest of their siblings (though my father and other aunt ended up with multiple university degrees) who for family reasons ended up in Commerce high schools and becoming bookkeepers. They were born about 5 months apart (MIL in September of '32 and my aunt in March of '33) and both were two of the nicest people you could ever meet. Also, you could find yourself listening to both on the telephone for a good half hour before the point they were trying to make became clear.

I had visited my aunt in palliative care in late May after she had gotten into the facility. It was more a matter of her being unsteady at home and this became a "safe" place for her. I did not think that her death was to be anytime soon, just sooner than it would be for somebody my age. That is usually the case. In any event, I stopped by my mother's on the Saturday (10th) and was told that my aunt had deteriorated. Again, I did not think it would be that soon or quick.

It was. I got the call from my mother as I headed up from the shower that Wednesday morning. I did not think it really affected me until I had to go to a client's house that afternoon and almost had about 3 car accidents. It was at that point that I knew I should carefully go home and collect myself. The funeral was all fun and excitement in tremendous heat and humidity.

It was nice to see my cousins, though, the circumstances were less than ideal. I was disappointed that she did not, could not, make it to the Lad's bar mitzvah. It was another a reason why I was not about to go pick the Lad up at camp to take him to the funeral.

It now leaves my uncle alone. I am not sure what he is going to do. It is okay in some sense. I mean the guy never had time for me, throughout my life, so I can return that favor. My cousin, not his son, said the same thing to me about my uncle.

It made me realize that growing up I had 4 uncles. Two of whom I related to and rather liked. My unlce Dave, who died in 1980 and was like a surrogate father to my father, was awesome. He was cool in a strange way and apparently had a rather filthy mouth (I never saw/heard it that way). He was probably the first adult that I can think of who did not talk down to me. He did not treat me like an equal (I was not, I was a child and he an adult, but he did not talk down to me and in fact, taught me, directly and through my father, how to treat people, all people, with respect and dignity). He also owned numerous Jaguars. Of course, they were apparently co-owned with his mechanic and they shared custody, or so it seemed.

My mother's brother, uncle Paul, who lives in BC, was closest in age to me. He was always a lot of fun. He may caused me some brain damage (smacking my head into a plaster overhang in our house while on his shoulders, but so what is a few lost IQ points between an uncle and his nephew). He is always a source of entertainment and story telling. He even has built a relationship with the Lad and my neice and nephews. Now, that he is a grandfather, who knows what new silliness may take root.

The other two uncles, my mother's brother in law and father's brother in law, were just there. Ignored by one, talked down to by the other, the lack of a relationship is their own loss. I am pretty fun people and they missed it.

Well, that is all for now. I hope to come back much sooner as I did have things to say about things seen. Ciao!

So Long and Good Luck, Chris Bosh

I am back. Been crazy for a while. You know what with NHL and NBA free agency. Well that is done, by and large, and that got some of the sillies out in the world.

LeBron James, and Chris Bosh, leaving their respective NBA teams and heading to Miami to play together with Dwyane Wade. That is some super team that came together with the US National team in both 2006 and 2008. Let me state upfront, I have no quibble with either player move. Contracts were up, fulfilled them, free to do as they pleased with regard to their next gig. They were free agents.

For Chris Bosh, he fulfilled his contract for the seven years he played for my Raptors. He is a good player, a complimentary player, not a great player. His position did not lend itself to greatness. I define "greatness" as being a good player (statistically it depends upon the position played) that can create for himself. Bosh does not handle the ball well enough to be that guy. That is okay. In my humble opinion, he is not a max dollar player. (Truth is that I see only a handful of max dollar guys by my definition...James, Wade, Kobe and perhaps Chris Paul with Kevin Durant knocking on the door)

I was not happy with his Twitter thing. But that does not matter nor does it change the fact that he made a business move. He did what was best for him in terms of people he wanted to play with and where he wanted to play. I tip my hat to him and thank him for his hard work. He was a true professional and does not deserve the treatment accorded Wince Carter, Tracy MacGrady or Damon Stoudemire who all left with a pout.

Not Chris Bosh. He played hard, gave his best, and earned the right to do what he did, sign with Miami. Good luck to him and thank you for showing other players how to try to carry a franchise with dignity. He was not a Michael Jordan/Larry Bird/Kobe Bryant-type of leader; he is also not that type of player. It is not him. He did the best with who he is. He will be a great complimentary player and championships are won with pieces like him in place.

LeBron is different, yet I would say the same about him, except that he is a superstar in the league whereas I would classify Bosh a star (the difference between good/great and what a max dollar player should be). I cannot say how hard he played for Cleveland as I did not watch him game in and game out. I would think that he gave it his all considering he put that team on his shoulders and really carried them.

There has been a backlash regarding Lebron's decision. Dan Gilbert, the Cavs owner had many negative things to say about James. It is no wonder. He bent over backwards to cater to Lebron's desires hoping that he would stay with the Cavs. Gilbert is hurt. The funny thing is that as a successful business man (Quicken Loans), Dan Gilbert knows business. This was purely business, nothing personal. Gilbert did not treat it as business. He let James call the shots hoping he would stay. HOPING!

Hope is not a strategy. Gilbert has to pay the price, and he is, for that gambit. It is just business. This is what the owners say when trading players midseason. It is just business. The players are expected not whine then and the owners should be expected not to whine now. It is just fucking business. Of course, that does not mean feelings do not get hurt with business, it just means that is way it is and take responsibility for your own actions in the whole interaction.

Now, we have Jesse Jackson nattering on about Gilbert and saying he treated LeBron like a freed slave. Jesse, slave my fucking ass! Not at that price, he was no fucking slave. He is no fucking victim. Jesse, have you channeled your inner Sharpton?????

Fuck, man, you have been irrelevant for a good decade. Shut the fuck up, man. Perhaps, Dan Gilbert is a man who got stung in a business transaction. He got personal because the relationship (Lebron, the money and intertwining of Lebron and the Cavs) was a business one with some personal crap involved. The man is hurt because he believed the personal relationship with James along with a max dollar deal would keep his prized star and revenue generator in Cleveland. It did not and that does not mean his remarks are racially motivated.

Leave it to Jesse Jackson to play the race card first chance he can get. That's it Jesse, way to try and steal, or at least slime in on, somebody else's spotlight. Fucking IN-fame whore!

Wow, I cannot believe that I am just seeing that now. Ciao!

Quaking All Over

I am back. Finally. It has been busy and I have also been lazy. Baseball, work and, of course, we NEED a new bathroom at the old homestead. The best part is that yesterday the earth shook in these parts. We had a fucking 5.0 earthquake strike this area!

It was kind of cool, too. I was working from home and I was at my computer when I heard some rattling. I thought that there was something wrong with the fridge and when I got up I could hear the rattle from the mirror hanging in the front. I could not hear construction noises, so I headed upstairs. I heard the shower doors rattling and then came into our bedroom, only to hear the mirrors hanging on our wall shaking. I knew it was a tremor or earthquake.

I put on CP24 and they were showing coverage of Obama's conference after firing/forced resignation of General Stanley McChrystal. They then broke away for some "Breaking News". My earthquake conclusion was confirmed.

No damage, so la di dah. Then again, is this a harbinger of a greater quake to come? Are we prepared? Is our infrastructure (homes, buildings, bridges and roads) capable of dealing with a larger quake? This should be a call to figure this stuff out so that we can be prepared should it strike again, soon and with more force.

The funny thing is that the other day, Sunday, the Wife and I were watching a thing on earthquakes and how structures were built and tested on the US west coast. It showed that midsize steel structured buildings in Los Angeles could withstand a largeish quake centered along the San Andreas Fault. If the quake is centered in the LA Basin, where a faultline lies in downtown LA, then there will be MASSIVE damage to all structures.

It also showed that the causeway in Seattle was built on information that is obsolete. That means that double decker bridge is not capable of withstanding a big quake in Seattle. They are keeping an eye on it, and it is very old, and it needs far more than "keeping a" fucking "eye" on it. It is all about money to pay for rebuilding infrastructure and maintaining infrastructure. That is not really there. I am not sure how disaster relief money will help as that job will be massive. Then again, it may become one in a series of Mother Nature make work projects. It may be better than a war, though that, too, may be on its way.

Depressing thought and there ain't nothin' funny 'bout that! I am going to quake away for today. I must remember to regale you all with my experience at the Pavement concert on Toronto Island with the Lad. Ciao!

Rue McLanahan Dies. Gary Coleman Dies. Conrad Bain the Connection. Is Todd Bridges Next?

I am back. It has been a long time. I just do not know exactly how long. Damn, fucking interface changes! Well, I do not recall posting about Gary Coleman's death, or did I? It came quickly and kind of out of the blue. As I thought, though I do not recall if I posted, that it is surprising that of the "Drummond" children that Willis (Todd Bridges) would be the last one standing. Again, I would have thought it would be Kimberley (Dana Plato), but that was not to be. She committed suicide. In fact, her 25 year old son just did the same thing recently. He never did get over his mother's suicide. That does beg the question, "does one EVER get over" something like that? I am just not sure.

Of course, you do not get OVER it. You do learn how to cope and put it in perspective. The goal is to not allow that to overwhelm you and to live a life. Enjoy life as best one can with a heavy heart. Enjoy it nonetheless.

Now, word is out that Rue McLanahan has died. Here is the thing. She was "married" to Conrad Bain on "Maude" (with Bea Arthur who has been dead for about a year now). Gary Coleman was the adopted son of Conrad Bain on "Different Strokes" and Dana Plato is daughter. Esther Rolle, who played Maude's housekeeper, Florida, is also dead. Do you see the connection?

Apparently, if you are on a television show with Conrad Bain...you will die. If you played a relative of his on television, you will really die. Todd Bridges is not out of the woods yet. Then again, neither is Adrienne Barbeau or Bill Macy. I figure that with 2 co-stars dead (family members, too) in under a week in 2010, Todd Bridges should for sure be on the look out for the Grim Reaper.

Sad to say, but that is strange patterns talking, not me.

Ciao!

North Korea--Toddler Country with Nukes

I am back. After 5 nights in Winnipeg, it was great to come home. Hell, after only thinking about being in Winnipeg it would be great to be home. Anyway, Winnipeg was business and I met some pretty cool folk there. Thankfully, the weather was not bad at all. It was not freezing cold and there were no mutant mosquitoes, so it was good. Well, other than drunken, homeless native Canadians, read Indians, that populate downtown Winnipeg. That is not a good sight, but what can I do?

Anyway, the thing that caught my eye today was the headline that "North Korea threatens war if blamed and sanctioned for sinking a South Korean navy ship". Let me get this straight, the regime believes that it is being set up. They do not like the finding that a North Korean submarine sank the South Korean ship with a torpedo, killing a number of servicemen on board. If I am not mistaken, that is an act of war, so to threaten war if...seems kind of besides the point.

It seems to me that they have declared war, so there is no threat. Fuck 'em, I say. Where I thought that the next big, global war was going to come from the middle east, the fucking loony Kim Jong-Il raises the stakes and says that the next war will come in the far east. Let us see how China dodges this one.

It is in their backyard and with a regime with whom only they have real contact. Not much influence, it seems, but contact. They are just as afraid of the demented North Korean regime as the rest of the world is. It is their borders that would be overrun by freaked out NKs along with the south.

I do not think that their threats should stand in the way of doing the right thing, though. Consequences be damned, this regime needs to fall. Let them threaten war and let's see how that turns out for them. If you are going to do shitty things, remember this country has kidnapped numerous Japanese and South Korean nationals with little or no retribution, then grow some balls and take your punishment when, and if, you are caught.

The nation is like a little, fucking, lying, petulant child. It has got to stop. Call their bluff and be prepared to fuck them in the heart if need be. I really would like to see them put their thumbs into China's eye just to see how China reacts. That would be a joy to behold.

Ciao!

Whatever happened to Peter Nash?

I am back. It has been a while since my last post. In the meantime, I spent 8 days aboard a Caribbean/Atlantic Ocean cruise. We sailed from San Juan, Puerto Rico and made our way to Port Liberty in Bayonne, New Jersey (Newark, really, for those keeping score). Once again, I was in the New York area in the spring and once again it rained. Apparently, I go every 14 years and it has always rained.

I can go on about the cruise and may do so in some later posts. I think I will, because I heard some funny things while on board. This is about the most recent weekend. It was my high school's 50th anniversary. William Lyon Mackenzie Collegiate Institute first opened it doors as Southview Collegiate in 1960. The school was thrown up in a hurry so it was named by the students in 1962. It got the name Southview because it was built south of Northview where many of the students of my area were then crammed.

Anyway, I had not been back to that school in over 20 years. I did, by sheer happenstance, attend the 25th anniversay back in 1985. I was tired, rough and have no idea why I was there. I was there with a friend, Dr. Crack (a chiropractor), and who was the first person that I recognized before I entered, Dr. Crack and his wife, Mrs. Crack. Lovely folks, them Cracks.

Twenty five years ago, I had only graduated two years earlier, so there was little meaning for me, then. This time, it was quite surreal. I did not really remember the place. I never made it upstairs. I got into the foyer and was transformed back to the early 1980s. I checked out the caf, and it had been painted so seemed a bit different. A buddy and I wandered the halls and they were foreign. Of course, the shop was on that side, so I do not recall really being in that particular hallway at any point when I was in high school.

The turnout was high, yet I did not see nearly as many people as I had hoped. Many of my friends could not seem to get over their old high school wounds. I figured, "Fuck it!" it was high school, it is done. Then again, I was and still am, easy going and get along with everybody. I never got too close to anybody and nobody was ever too close to me, so if drama or bullshit began, I just flitted to be entertained by somebody else. It really does work for me and seems to have always done so. That way, I have no reason to hold a grudge against anybody for lo these 30 years.

It was the excuse that if I have not seen them in 27 years, there is a reason. Pity, because I got to see, though, I did not speak the truth on this one, one girl that I had known since junior high. She was always beautiful, and still is. The thing was that during her teen years, she always seemed sad and dour. In junior high, I and a bunch of my buddies, would hang out at her house in the evenings. I always liked her, could not stand her older brother, and always felt that there was a great life spark in her. That is why I hung there.

She just had this emotional wall around her, especially in those days. As I said, she looked good and when she smiled, she looked great. I have to tell you, she seems to smile and awful lot now. I sense that she has gotten comfortable in her own skin and I was really happy to see that. I did recognize her right away.

All that said, I do have to ask this question....where is Pete Nash?

Ciao!

Larry King Divorcing Again

I am back. All I have to say is this...Larry King getting another divorce! Man, that fucker cannot hold a marriage together. Then again, at his age of about 200, I do not know if she wore him out or he wore her out. As I think about his old, liver spotted, pale body.....I am thinking the embodiment of C. Montgomery Burns (of The Simpsons fame). He has had as many heart attacks as he has had marriages.

The thought of his wrinkled, pasty body is turning my stomach. Picture him in his tighty whiteys, with his suspenders on (maybe it is a truss to keep his intestines from spilling out of his old man hernia....I say old man but really it is FUCKING OLD man).

I would think that he is old enough to have figured out that marriage and he do not work. I guess not. Oh well, it is not me.

Kind of anti-climactic post wasn't it? Oh well. Ciao!

How do I get those hours of my life back?

I am back. Man, my posting has been really sporadic lately. Then again, who the fuck is actually reading this? Go on, raise your hands. I can see y'all out there.

That said, this is my end of Passover post. I am so very pleased that this blessed holiday is fast approaching its end. You do not realize how difficult it really is to not have any bread or pasta in your diet for 8 days. It is strange and the constant hunger is unbearable. Matza is NO substitute for bread. Bread does not constipate, matza lives for that.

I think that is what is making me so damn cranky and tired. I need a good, cleansing crap. I know that is TMI (taxes, maintenance and insurance er.. too much information) and I do not care. If that is not it, this feeling could be more serious. Oh well, that may be something else to post about, then again, maybe not.

Anyway, got to see a lot of family over the past week. My aunt was in from BC, that was nice. I did get to have 2 dinners with the Wife's brother and aunt and uncle. That was in the land of "just shoot me". I swear as the conversation goes on, I can feel brain cells dying. That was 3 hours of my life that I am not getting back. I would find watching paint dry to be more interesting.

The weekend before the Wife and I were out for dinner with friends. Her friends had just returned from a vacation to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. It was then the husband, with hair like Stalin, began a story. The story went on for hours. What was the fucking point? Again, this guy monopolizes a conversation like no other. He fucking does not shut up for a second. That would not be so bad if he had not told me the story already. I did not find the story to interesting originally, let alone the second or third time.

He will also add, as if he had a point to make, "your not listening" so that he can emphasize his point. The problem is that he did not get to the point and his information is often flawed. He read A book or some such thing. There is no independent evidence. He, apparently, is also an expert on everything. He is Cliff Claven. I have often said that about him.

On this particular evening, he is going on and on. I just tuned out and mentally went somewhere else. I missed the second half of the Kentucky-West Virginia game for that? Where was my reward. Well, the meal was pretty good, so I cannot complain there.

What is it with people who feel the need to talk eventhough it is obvious (I do not attempt to hide my boredom from anybody anymore---nobody has a claim on my time and life) I am not engaged in the monologue (it sure as fuck ain't a conversation)? I, sadly, understand, and it still boggles my little mind.

That is the major reason why I do not particularly enjoy going out with these friends of the Wife's. There was another couple with us as well so that made things better. It did not prevent the dude from droning on but it did provide room for some asides, which is always nice.

Anyway, that is all for now. Ciao!

The Trouble with Beets

I am back. This may be a very disgusting post, and I may have touched on this earlier, though I do not recall. I had checked my archives, recent posts, and it did not seem to be there. Perhaps, I merely thought about it but never posted the thought. Here it goes.

The Wife made roasted beets the other night (Thursday). No trouble there. She does make them fairly often and she likes her beets. I am more skeptical. I eat them but am not sure if I like them. Of course, roasting anything makes it tasty....see beef and potatoes.

They were okay. The fun begins the next morning. I go to do "my business" and the water in the toilet is red. "Fuck!" I am thinking that I have one hell of a bleeding colon. It cannot be good. I have one and a half fucking feet in the grave. I am a goner.

Then, I remember........beets. That beet color gets everywhere. It is scary. It stains the plates and the walls. I have seen it used to color pasta. Now, it colors my colon and its contents. I am not dying, I have eaten beets.

No wonder the Violent Femmes once wrote, "Body and beets, I stain my sheets, I don't even know why, my girlfriend, she's at the end, she is starting to cry....Let me go on, like a blister in the sun". It is all coming too clear to me now. Thank you Gord Gano for those lines.

Fortunately, I did not stain the sheets....at least not with beets. That must mean that all is well.

There you have it, a story of my colon's contents. Ciao!

5+ years of posting and a few thoughts

I am back. It has been two weeks since my last post, too bad. I did in all this time away miss my 5th blog birthday. I have been posting since February 2005. I cannot believe it either. I know that the number of my postings has decreased, especially of late, but I have been pretty consistent with this.

That means I may have a lot to say. Or at least I like to think that I do.

In that time, I have said some pretty funny things and some pretty sad ones. I have "lost" family members and gained some, too (birth of nephews, etc.). There have been good times and bad. It is like life, hell, it is life. The sweet with the bitter makes it all one big and great paradox. It is the sad that makes me appreciate the good.

This has also been a place where I can get up on my soapbox and let you, the world, know about my life philosophy. It has been rather organic as it has come by way of living and observing events in my life and life in general in my detached state. I intellectualize things. It is who I am and how I make sense of emotions and life events.

It is funny as I think upon that notion of intellectualization. I look back to myself in 1978. I had not tried smoking pot. Yet, there I was researching it and the data of the day to really understand and separate fact from propaganda. I did the same thing with LSD, in terms of its effects, and found my first acid trip to be quite enjoyable. It was because I could call it a random firing of neurons that I knew my hallucinations were just that and temporary. It made for an enjoyable ride or trip.

I will endeavor to post more often, though I really do not know who, if anybody, is reading out there. I have enjoyed this five years of posting and hope to enjoy more of it in the future.

Ciao!

Olympic roundup

I am back. Forgive me one and all but it has been close to two weeks since my last post. I have been very busy. I got to host a bar mitzvah. That is correct, the Lad, did it. All the credit has to go the Wife, though. I did shit all, except for my speech and the liquor (what else is new). My speech rocked and I did receive many compliments. Apparently, long time friends did not realize that I can write, articulate my thoughts and feelings in a kind and humorous manner and come off, not as arrogant, angry asshole, but as compassionate loving father and husband. Actually, I did not know I had that in me either.

That explains my absence for the past two or so weeks. It had nothing to do with the ongoing Olympics in Vancouver. Though, it is the Olympics, especially the closing ceremonies, that is the subject of today's post.

Did any of you catch the closing ceremonies? I am watching and struck by the huge, inflatable beavers. I am thinking that nothing says "Canada" like huge, hairy beavers. Am I wrong on this one? Is my mind in the gutter (yes, and it is all part of my charm)? Either way, I think somebody should have seen that one coming....Canada represented by huge, hairy beavers. At least they were not split, but to be honest, I much prefer a shaved beaver. That is just me and my preference, though beaver is beaver any way you slice it or split it.

Ciao!

With a name like Takee Outee, it has to be good!

I am back. It has been a while. Sorry. Been kind of busy, though, you would not really know it. I was wondering what I should rant about today....the Olympics....Global Warming, or is that a pretext for some One World Government......Iran....China.....Chinese in Iran........I just do not know.

Well, we did have a long "Family Day" weekend around these parts. It is nice to have a Monday off in February. Then it dawned on me, if I were back in university, it would be Reading Week. In fact, 25 years ago today, I would have been in Florida with WG just getting over the sleep deprivation. I think it would have been the night that I got my free t-shirt at the Candy Store for 10 bucks. It was a lousy V-neck, but it was "free", along with a crappy buffet.

It was on that journey that I learned how much fun it is to drink at 9:30 in the morning. On our morning flight down to Ft. Lauderdale, I had been up since 4:30am. At 9:30, the stewardess (flight attendant? waitress in the sky??) asked if we wanted a drink. I was shocked. I told her it was 9:30 in the morning. She rationalized it for me thusly, "If you were home, would you get up at noon?" My reply was "yes". "And what time did you get up for this flight?" I told her. "Then it is like 5:00 to you, is that too early?" I responded the only way I knew how, "Make it double."

Getting the rental car, while buzzing, was a real blast. We got a red Chrysler Laser. It was a cool car for a Chrysler. The cup holders, it was 1985, fit a can of Budweiser perfectly. Now, I would not do that now, but then it seemed fine. I know, I was lucky and I know it.

It was a fun trip, full of drinking and sun. The biggest lesson I learned was the love of the chicken fried steak and eggs at Denny's. I have been eating that shit for 25 years now and loving it. I recommend it highly, especially with a side of grits.

The other lesson is this, if the Chinese take-out place is named "Takee Outee", the food is probably really shit. It was. Then again, how could we pass up the chance to eat at a place called "Takee Outee". We paid the price, but the memory lives on and both of us can say that we ate at Takee Outee. Isn't that what it is all about?

Ciao!

Haiti

I am back. I think that I posted last on Friday. Obviously, I do not recall. Oh well, no bother. January 2010 is off the books and we are into February. I am not sure if that is good or bad. I guess, it just is, and has been for as long as I have lived. I can take little notice of what came before my existence, assuming that I do exist at this point in time.

I see where Quincy Jones went back into the studio, after the Grammys, with a bunch of singing stars to re-record "We Are The World". Twenty five years later they redo the whole thing, sans Michael Jackson, to raise money/awareness for Haiti. Last time, it was a response to Bob Geldof and the British music scene doing "Do They Know It's Christmas" at the end of 1984 in response to famine in Ethiopia.

The saddest part of all of this is that I am left to wonder if it makes any difference. That is not to say we should do nothing to help the Haitians. I am not going off on a screed here, though. Ethiopia was different. Famine is an act of man/politics. There was "enough" food for the Ethiopian people (it may not have been plentiful and there may have been shortages), their rulers withheld food from areas that were fighting with the government forces. Ethiopians starved other Ethiopians. Again, it does not mean you shut these people off, it does mean you have to think hard of how to best help them.

It was not done in Ethiopia as food was confiscated by the government and not handed out to those who needed it. Again, famine is a political act. The late Sam Kinnison may have had it correct. The solution to that problem was not food, but a number of U-Hauls. It may have been necessary to point out that they lived on SAND and crops do not grow in sand. Use the U-Hauls to move the people to where the food was.

Now, on to Haiti. It is the same thing. Impoverished people waylaid by an earthquake. Slab concrete construction making for a great "crush" during an earthquake. Of course, if not an earthquake, a hurricane or three would have been in the forecast.

It seems to me that the Haitians are fatalists. They accept their fates, much like those in New Orleans. This is what fascinates me the most. The two are similar. Both are dirt, or is that mud, poor. Both come from similar French roots. Both residents seem resigned to their fates in life. Fate struck both of them, and will continue to do so.

Haitians seem to live for the moment without regard to a long term. Denuding your country to burn wood so that you can live and eat now is a great example of that mindset. I am not commenting on how that mindset came to be. Let's be honest here. They did not so much earn their independence from France by revolt but by paying off the French in the most usurous fashion. What did they get for their payment? Shit all and generations of indentured servitude.

Again, I am not saying to not help Haiti. I am saying that I do not know how much help beyond the immediate can be provided to them with their current mindset. Like New Orleans it could be a case of good money for bad results. I find it to be a real quandry here. How do you help a nation that seems to accept whatever befalls it and seemingly does nothing to change things? The attitude is one of "this is the way it is", a sort of quiet resignation. No amount of money or rebuilding, I think in this case it is merely building, can do that.

Just some food for thought. Ciao!

Am I on the grid?

I am back. Life has become somewhat strange again. It is as if my past is becoming my present. It is all the fault of damn social networking sites. I am finding myself connecting with people that I have not really seen since my teen years or early 20s.

In some ways, it is kind of cool. I have come to understand that people drift in and out of our lives continuously. Being a bit of a solipsist, I have often believed that I conjured them up and then let them go. They have no existence apart from me. It is a fantasy. It puts me in total control, which is nice, but wholly fictitious. I do not control that sort of thing (looks like I am trying to deflect some blame).

It is really strange to contact these people and see them all grown up. It is nice to know that some people have grown (not sure that I have). They are heavier and many have less hair (male and female), so it is not just me. The funniest part is sometimes I do not recall why I lost contact.

Oh yeah, they may have been sort of friends, at a certain point time in my life, limited to a certain location or locations. Once I was done with that part of my life, I lost contact. I guess the common bond we shared ceased to be for me, so onwards I moved and they too.

It has been interesting to see and hear from these folks as they all provided some enjoyment to me 25 or 30 years ago. Now, we tell similar stories of raising children and just trying to live our lives.

It is funny how things work and how social networking can bring you back to your roots. It ain't too bad (notwithstanding I can be found and that puts me back on the grid, so I may have to do something about that). Anyway, still do not know where "Pete" is, though. He may be out on manoeuvres with his cans of meat. Anybody know what became of any of the dudes that lived in the frat house? Those would be some obscure stories and names.

Have a great weekend one and all! Ciao!

Chemical Ali is now a real swinger

I am back. It has only been a week since my last post. Nothing real new to report in the past week. I did read where they executed Chemical Ali in Iraq today. He was the one that took such glee in gassing the Shiites and Kurds in Iraq in the early 1990s. He was also a trusted cousin of Saddam Hussein.

Given that Saddam's sons were psychopathic, like their father, and the cousin fell into this category, it is no surprise that these assholes took great pleasure in torturing, maiming and killing their subjects. Sad, but they died like they lived....violently.

The great irony is that somebody, a Sunni insurgent, detonated a bomb that killed 37 in Baghdad at about the time Chemical Ali was to be hanged (like Saddam, that genius military strategist). He is now a real swinger. It all makes sense to me. Kill each other, so there are less of you to kill anybody else. I like the logic.

I heard that Chemical Ali was sentenced to death four times. I was really curious to know how they were going to carry out that sentence. It is not as if they could kill him and then bring him back to life three times. That would be a tremendous waste of valuable resources, all for the sake of vengeance.

I have no problem with vendetta and revenge is a dish best served cold. Even I think that would be going too far. Bringing a guy back to life, after you executed him, well, may just as well cause him as much pain possible. Let him beg for his life or to be finished off quickly. Make the bastard suffer and then end it. Nothing else to do. His wiring is bad, so just junk that machine.

Around these parts we, by that I mean I, had a pretty mellow weekend. We had an early basketball game (8:30 am) on Saturday. We only had five players, so my guys gutted it out and were out of gas by the end. We did lose and I am proud of the 5 guys that played. It really was more like 4, as our 5th guy is just sort of there. He is like a pylon on defence and offence. He did score a basket but was otherwise a complete non-entity. Oh well, that is house league basketball for you.

That is all for now. Ciao!

Happy 13th, Lad!

I am back. I am having a strange feeling today. It dawns on me that it is official. I am officially the father of a teenager. Yes, the Lad turned 13 today. He is now, and for 7 more years, a teenager. Where the fuck has the time gone?

I have recounted in these posts the day of his arrival in as much detail as I can recall. It has been 13 years after all, not to mention all the alcohol I needed to "wash" down those years. Like all periods of life, this one has had some good times (watching him play and grow) and some sad times (loss of the Outlaws).

He has grown into a tall, sensitive, bright young man. Again, I am struck by how he looks like a boy sometimes and sometimes looks like a young teenager. It is those awkward, sort of gawky, years that he has entered. I went through them and so will he.

The Wife says that I cannot comment on his growing teen moustache. "It would embarrass him". Commenting would embarrass him? What about the catepillar starting to grow under his nose, that does not embarrass him? Look, I kept mine (you should see my grade 9 photo, all of 14 with my curly, permed hair, and cheesy teen moustache) until one of my best friend's older brother told me that I looked like Ringo Starr. He was so correct (think of the picture of Ringo from the White Album) so the next day, I took a razor from my father and shaved the fucking thing off. I would shave whenever I had to from there.

At the time, it did seem embarrassing and most of my good friends were in the same cheesy, lip-hairy boat. Most of us had done the shaving thing by the end of 1978 and had a smooth upper lip to show for it. I did have one friend, idiot that he was and may still very well be, who would tweeze the stray chin and lip hairs. Give up the ghost, motherfucker, and just shave....who do you think you were fooling? Of course, this dude was quite the sun-worshipper and would ask doctors opinions on his tan and the damage he was doing. He finally settled on the one doctor who did not think it was a problem. There is no accounting for searching out somebody who will let you "keep" your delusions.

Anyway, I guess my shaving his moustache (I can see him having me do it for him, out of fear of cutting himself, as I did it for my brother at about that age) will be a post for another day, when it, of course, occurs.

I am still unclear how I can be the father of a teenager. In fact, that means that I could be a grandfather at any time. I mean, he may be able to knock up some chick. Thankfully, I do not have a daughter, let alone a slutty one. This is bad enough and driving becomes the next great fear frontier for me, apparently.

For now, I am going to have to remember that hormones rule and that long term, rational thought is going to be his sworn, mortal enemy for a time. If he is anything like I was/am, it may not be too bad as he will have a sensible side that will continue to rear its head most times.

I know I went through puberty and the insane teen years without too much trouble. Of course, I was never afraid to march to the tune of my own drummer. Peer pressure was not that great influence on me. Sadly, I have long taken a hard look at my peer group and would always have to question motives and such. One of the greatest cartoons that I had clipped from the Wall Street Journal (the Wife has long since thrown it out, because she just does not understand) had a guy in court. He turns to his lawyer and says, "I hardly consider 12 people who could not get out of jury duty as MY peers." Those were and are my sentiments about my teen years, too.

With that, I will say happy 13th birthday, Lad. I love you more and more each day and I can barely express in words how proud you have me feel and I can see that feeling increasing (until December 2012, then the world goes kablooey and it is survival mode and dammit we Well Adjusted Madmen types will have to survive, I will WILL that to occur). Nice to end on a happy thought, Ciao!

A simple question that needs to be answered

I am back. This will be short and sweet. Well, actually, not sweet at all. I am going to ask a question. Given the responses to the other questions that I have posed, I know not to expect any answers. In this matter of having my questions answered (I do not care if the answer is correct, I just want a fucking answer, dammit!), I know from the past that there will be no answers forthcoming. That is inductive reasoning and you are all a bunch of Jeremy Benthams.

For your own knowledge, this is the story of Jeremy Bentham and what that reference means. It was brought up to me close to 30 years ago (fuck, I am getting old, though I do not notice it....until the 18 year old server girls call me "Sir"....then again, that would not be a bad thing in certain situations) by my Chemistry/Physics teacher in high school. The man, who had his PhD. in one of those two disciplines but preferred teaching high school students and not post-secondary students, was brilliant and a little "whacked out" or "out there".

He would often start class with this line, "test today?". Then he would be talking and walking, walk out of the room in mid sentence and come back into the room as he completed what he was saying. You could never get the full story.

Anyway, he would ask a question and nobody would put their hand up to answer it. He would then say that he had a bunch of Jeremy Benthams.

Jeremy Bentham was an English philosopher and proponent of utilitarianism. He lived in the late 1700s and died in 1832. His work greatly influenced Scottish philosopher John Stuart Mill, who gave us the concept of Liberty and libertarianism (absent harm to somebody, you should pursue your own happiness). Upon Bentham's death, he came from wealth, he bequeathed a large sum to University College in London. As stipulated, he had given his body to science but his head, etc. was preserved and placed on another body and encased in a glass "tomb"(auto-icon). He was to present at all meetings, so he would be wheeled in to sit at all meetings. When it came time to vote, the votes would be counted and Jeremy Bentham would, of course, abstain. Actually, they called it "present but not voting". And that is the reference that my old Chemistry teacher would use.

Anyway, here is my question....why does shit smell like shit?

I will await the replies (let's see what arrives quicker, the replies, the coming of the Messiah, the return of the Great Pumpkin or Godot). Ciao!

PS, I am counting on y'all (am I a dope or what?)

Baseball Hall of Fame Rant

I am back. This is one "off the wall" post. I just have to vent. The inductees to the Baseball Hall of Fame were just announced and I am pissed. Roberto Alomar came up short (10 votes short) of induction in his first year of eligibility.

Shame on you, BBWA. You vote in Ryne Sandburg early? This guy is not half the player that Alomar was (they were both 2nd basemen). Look at the offensive and defensive stats! Most importantly, how many World Series rings did Sandburg win/earn? NADA. Alomar has 2, both with the Blue Jays, AND he was an integral part of those teams.

It was his home run off of Dennis Eckersley in the American League Championship Series that turned the tide. For the first time, the Blue Jays were not intimidated by the A's. Defeating their closer meant that the "bully" had been vanquished. Roberto Alomar did that with one swing of the bat.

I will not piss on the Hall for inducting Andre Dawson (we share a birthday and he was my favorite player growing up in the late 70s and early 80s when he was an Expo). Then again, he did have to wait for induction and his numbers were not nearly as good as Alomar's. Roberto Alomar was the best position player in Toronto Blue Jays history....hands down, nobody else comes close.

Jack Morris should also be in the Hall. He was a prick and he was simply the best and most consistent pitcher in the 1980s (not to mention 4 World Series titles-Detroit in 1984, Minnesota in 1991 and Toronto in 1992 and 1993).

Shame on the BBWA for missing those! Ciao!

Are ties to be severed?

I am back. Pretty soon after, huh? I was going to rant about the Wife's sister (and brother). It is just too easy a subject and I could go on forever. They are walking illustrations of the hazards of smoking while pregnant. The reality is that I sized this "woman" up 22 years ago and she keeps proving me correct. The dirty "bitch" is just toxic.

This woman comes with her 8 year old daughter from Dayton. Presumably, she is here to see some family that came in from LA. Whether the cousin from LA wanted to see her is open for debate. Of course, SIL does not stay at a hotel, she stays with us. Keep in mind, as I know I have mentioned many times earlier, she is a P - I - G, pig. That is so damn ironic as she keeps kosher and has become more observant than her husband, who was raised in an Orthodox home.

The other funny part is that she has bastardized the religion. She is vapid and empty. Yet, she seems to think that going to synagogue regularly absolves her of that crap and makes up for her proclivity to judge all people. Of course, she judges using her standards, which also she does not measure up to (then again, she would be loathe to admit that...or anything else for that matter).

Long story short, but she treats the Wife with the same sense of disrespect she treated her own parents. Keep in mind, the cunt, man I should not have said that but if the tampon fits...., was MAD that her parents sold their home and bought their condominium, short lived that it was, because they did not see fit to consult with her and her husband. Imagine, adults, who raised these fucking losers (and they are, trust me you would not have been friends with either of these nebbishkites in high school or university, at least I know that I would not have and my standards are the ONLY ones that count around here)(if you do not like that, get your own fucking blog) cannot be trusted to live their own lives without consulting their addle minded daughter who lives in Dayton, Ohio.

It seemed to me then and now, their only objection was that they lost a free place to stay that provided them with free childcare and meals, too. It would appear that being a neurologist in the US does not provide with enough class or wealth to stay in a hotel. In fact, his parents, who still have a home of their own, will NOT have them stay there (very telling). They chose the place where the people were compliant and willing to suck back on the shit sandwiches served.

The best part is that they left the place like it was their own home...a shit house. Of course, the woman in whose home they were a GUEST was a fastidious cleaner. This disarray in her home was visibly disconcerting for her and her demented husband. And of course, this look was ignored by both "adult" children. I guess if they cannot shit on you and have you take it, you are of no use to them.

Anyway, she stays with us. She had been staying with us a bit while she came in alone when her mother was ill and father was much the same way. Yet, she seems to complain about the heat, the food (as she rifles through our pantry and leaves half eaten bananas on the counter). In fact, April of 2008, they were in for Passover, and like an idiot, we (the Wife/doormat, really) allow her to borrow our car. I get the car back with a banana peel in it. I confront her about that and she has the temerity to go on the attack. That does not play with me (you will find a bit more humor as I get to the end of the present story, too). Like I have said, she is a fucking pig.

Keep in mind, too, that in all these "visits" and stays in our basement, she has NEVER taken a shower. She will go and run, but has never showered. I sit in wonder how my brother in law, her husband, could have fucked that dirty cunt at least 7 times. Then again, one look at him, and without flashing his wallet, though his balls are in her purse, I understand. It was the only way he could get laid.

Anyway, we get to this weekend. The Wife, looking for some support from her sister, gets the usual put downs. Funny, but if it were me, I would have thrown her dirty ass on the cold porch, but I am family asshole. The daughter was complaining about blue light from the Wii bothering her while she tried to sleep and the cold. Her dipshit mother decides to further impose by asking if her daughter could sleep with the Lad. That was rebuffed. It was then asked that we put the blow up mattress in our bedroom and she sleep with us. Again, the Wife knew to say "no". The Wife suggested they sleep on our main level with greater heat but that was rebuffed as there is no television in that area or room.

Then, it began, the bitch, in a snit, says she will stay in a hotel. The bluff was called. She packed up and took all their shit as they went to visit their aunt (I have mentioned her here, and not in a positive manner, too) and see her in laws. She was to return the car (our car that she borrowed, not my car, but the Wife's car). She leaves with "she cannot take the yelling, the anger" from my Wife. Then she says that the Wife needs help and that she lost her parents, too. The best line was that she was the most non-judgemental person.

The Wife cried (I was laughing at how moronic her sister sounds and is). I put it to the Wife this way, and she seems to have agreed, ask yourself this question "if she were not related to you, would you be friends with her?" Her answer was a resounding "NO". I said that was that, so stop trying to get something/attention from her as it will never happen. She is a cold fish and cannot provide you with any emotional enjoyment. She is all talk and no action.

The best part is the day goes on. The Wife emails her to tell her to pick up her running shoes that she left in the house (I would say on purpose but that would be too intelligent for her). The email reply is that her in laws won't have her, so can they spend the night at our place. Then she texts the Wife wondering if we could come home earlier from my mother's house (Sunday night dinner with my family). The bitch has no shame....no pride either as it turns out.

I am laughing so hard thinking about it. I have absolutely NO respect for her. The damn toothless dog. All bark, unintelligent bark at that, but no bite.

It has taken the Wife 22 years to come around to my way of thinking. I have been proven correct, not that I ever doubted it. As a follow up, I did not say goodbye to her as the sound of her voice and her presence now makes my skin crawl.

The only downside is that I have to see her in about 6 or 7 weeks but she will NOT be staying in MY home for a long, long, long time.

Ciao! Thanks for letting me vent!

Happy New Year

I am back. Happy New Year, one and all. Perhaps, not ALL. I am not going to write or speak in anger. I will not be consumed by negativity. I am too strong for that, so I will not succumb to anybody else's negativity. I am impervious to that shit.

That sounds like a good way to be for 2010. I mean, we only have about three years left anyway (December 20, 2012). We are not here for a long time so why not make it a good time? That is how I resolve to be. I figure that only good can come from that and that is in ALL areas of life.

Now, I have been rather remiss in posting lately, well for a long while. I have had some interesting thoughts and never got around to writing or posting them. Some funny stuff....gone.

Well, in any event, I plan to be back more often this year with some good stuff.