Today after a short jaunt out to change out the company vehicle and a quick visit to a potential customer in the area I returned home to continue the rest of the dreary work day. I stripped to a pair of shorts and sleeveless tee, poured myself a nice glass of Bardolino, fired up a Cohiba Black (Maduro), and slogged through an endless stream of phone calls and note taking in the bright sunshine. One of these days I'm going to be filthy rich and I won't have to work anymore. No more slaving away at the salt mines under these horrendous conditions. Oh the iniquity! Iniquity I tell you!
Then I broke for lunch.
Then, in the afternoon, I poured another glass of wine and had to sit there collating catalogs. Collating catalogs of all things! ME! And... sure enough... in came the return calls. One after the other after another. My ears are worked to the bone. I almost got pissed off enough to have ANOTHER cigar. But I kept my cool.
People were starting to come back to their homes in their damn, noisy CARS. I couldn't take it anymore. I shut down and went inside. And if they don't like it back at the office they can kiss my butt! What do they know about work anyway?
Tomorrow it'll be the same damn thing. Day after day. Here comes Uncle Ernie to guide you to ~ your very own machine.
I'm not going to stand for this too much longer...
Answer to a letter from Eustus and Luvicy Webb in Toad Suck, Arkansas who are very envious over the life bloggers lead...
I can't think of what it is, exactly, Lindsay Lohan actually does either; but, no, I didn't see her on my recent swing through Florida. The fact is that, even though I see much of the country over the course of my real job, the majority of what I'm "seeing" are things like industrial parks, toll booth plazas, and the dumpster behind the Chili's restaurant out my hotel window. We are actually all full of shit, Mr and Mrs Webb, but at this level of drug use one shouldn't expect people to give you the dirty lowdown let alone admit to you they know the current price of crack in Akron.
If I were to further cut open my veins in public I would fess up to the fact that excitement for me is going to the car wash and then doing the weekly bills. If I get the chance to have a cigar on the back porch that's really living, but my usual weekend includes some form of alcohol and the goal of not having to move for great stretches of time.
The oddest thing about all this is that what I really desire most of all is a total blissful obscurity in the world, which also means I am a great sodding hypocrite because I attempt this obscurity while also accessing a potentially huge number of people via the Internet through this blog.
My idea of fun is getting up early in the morning and finding creative ways to do absolutely nothing of any value to society for as long as I possibly can. In fact the less I have to leave the house the better, and if I can find an excuse to not leave it I would. And that is my entire motivation for all my playing around with the stock market, the FOREX, T-bill ladders, and gold coins - I don't really want to be rich; I just want to live quietly in my backyard forever and not have to interact with people unless I absolutely have to. And even if Lindsay wants to come over and give me a massage or share her drugs she can take a number.
Anyway, Mr and Mrs Webb, I hope this will dispel any illusions you may have about the glamorous life here in Bloggermaxovania. You've been duped. Don't believe everything you read.
I'm off to see if we've enough vodka left for the cran-apple juice. It's a miserable cold life, you see.
This time granted by the one and only Heartless Lass of... well... Heartless Lass, and a regular reviewer at IT2M (such as it is these days). Ain't she sweet?
But oh nevermind I am hereby glowing. Seems brighter around Chicago doesn't it? My brain is just alight right now. Oh and please dear readers, if you know of any more of these wonderful trinkets do the kindness to let me know will you? I try verrrry hard to visit each and every one of you to see if I am mentioned what you're talking about on your wonderful blogs, but you know my schedule is very crowded... what with all this thinking going on.
Oh dear. I need a dump truck to unload my head. What shall I evah do?
Here's hoping my week-long projection of shadows of things that were did not escape your much sought-after clicky. There was a method to the madness. But anyway, short of finding a "wormhole" somewhere slightly west of Chicago the only thing I can figure is to project myself into the air and attain a speed as close to the speed of light as matter can go, pointed east, so that I counteract the rotation of the Earth and then set down somewhere in black and white. I mean before there was color anywhere. And there I'd be, just where I belong. That'll work...
I suppose I could let it rip and tell you about all the things that piss me off, and all the things I am short of, and how much I'd like to kill other drivers and stupid parents and stuff but... you know what... we have to stop complaining about other people's behavior so much. And so constantly. I mean, think about it. We were all worked up - and rightfully so - on the 11th of September back in 2001. America under attack, "we" are at peril, and "we" need to defend ourselves. But the way we talk about each other sometimes I'm surprised some people aren't happy that there's 3000 less people out there to cut you off on the road, let their kids scream in the checkout line, cheat on their spouses, stalk you online, and be loony liberals or fascist conservatives as a result of that day. I mean; if we have all these constant problems with our fellow citizens why be so worried about another attack? Some people act like something like that would benefit their travel times, their eardrums and their politics or something.
We hate the opposite party, we hate guys who drive like that, we hate other people's kids, or everybody else in general. I had a friend ask me over the weekend - "I'm a liberal, how could I be a hater??" And when I stopped laughing I told him about hate in politics, and reminded him how he felt. You know... Coulter. Rove. Hannity. O'Reilly. Limbaugh. He had to demur.
Yep... lotta hatin' going on all the way around, I'm thinkin'.
I know the "hate" word is used pretty freely, and it really doesn't mean solid hate like - you know - I don't care if that mutha dies or something. It's an easy word to use. Besides, the word isn't the point.
We give words too much power. Now that we are probably going to start throwing people in jail for using certain words it might be a good time to take a look at ourselves. When I observe it, and I fall into myself so no high-hat intended here, I'm reminded of a schoolyard where kids are pointing at each other and whining to the teacher "He called me a..."
Look at it this way... in the misty past, probably during the time of the druids or something, there was a magic spell a person could chant that would render tags and names-called and labels inconsequential. Something about sticks and stones. I can't recall the whole thing anymore. Too cliche, I suppose. But it seems laughing at and ultimately ignoring an idiot used to be a lot more effective in the past than it is now. It's the old "living well is the best revenge" thing. Now we need professional advocates and talk shows and witch hunts. Next thing you know we'll have a list of words that are misdemeanors and those that are felonies. I guess that's another one of those things we improved on in the modern age. Somewhere along the genetic meanderings of the human race the thin skin gene must have started to take over.
Suzanne (she's the one on the left I think) wants to know about the one thing you would change in your life if changing one thing in your life were possible which, apparently, it isn't - or is harder than it may at first appear on the surface.
One great thing everyone can change is their name. I was thinking maybe of going to something like Lefty McGill but I'm right handed and don't look Celtic by any stretch of the imagination.
Nevermind. I doth ramble. Talk to the Suzanne...
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
In The Interests Of Full Disclosure
We seem to have really gotten into a good place relative to blog traffic and reader participation around here lately! So I shall now carelessly dash that upon the rocks like a feckless pirate.
In my quest to become a multi-millionaire many times over (and not giving a second thought to redundancy, no matter how subtle), I have been involved in financial markets on my own for some time now. A couple decades, to be exact. Anyway long enough to know how people talk about their exploits in that field. You will always always always hear someone's story about the great coup of buying a stock pathetically low and selling it stratospherically high; but you almost never hear from that same person about the disasters they've suffered they're not telling you about. I mention this because I, of course, have never suffered a loss in the stock market. I also have six legs.
In the interest of fairness I would therefore like to cut open my veins publicly as it relates to a stock sale I so brilliantly executed here a few months back. In that scandalous bit of self-actualizing back-patting I was happy to announce that the Jones Soda stock I purchased many moons ago at $5.00 a share was sold back to the market on my orders for $12.95 a share or thereabouts, and the world was a beautiful place. "Sell it!" - I shouted so loud to the world. I shouted that so loud that the shout was noticed by the denizens of a Google Finance discussion board where a debate was sparked between two equally snarky and troll-like camps of discussion board mud wrestlers, and for a day or two traffic POURED in from that venue. It forced me to write a follow-up saying I was an amateur and not one of those "stock gurus" that shout up and down with their sleeves rolled up and bald heads glistening in the glow of the arc lights.
I was glad to have had the company of those who agreed with me, however, and I can't deny it.
The problem is that I ended up being irretrievably, stupefyingly, and undeniably WRONG.
JSDA has been tooling around the track of late in the high 20's. Yesterday it was around $27 a share. As I write this it is at $25 a share and its devotees are calling for $30 sometime in the near future.
And while it is true that for every 100 shares I bought I made $795, what I missed was the $2100 (or more) per 100 shares I could have had if I waited.
There ya go.
There's one that got away. We now return to our regularly scheduled program...
---------------------- I still think the current price is supported by rumor, speculation and hot air. If the hard assets and movable wealth of Jones Soda were cashed in and the money put in a big pile, and the share holders got their proportional worth of that pile; they would each walk away with $1.65 per share (also known as "Book Value"); and so to my way of thinking the current price is bloated beyond any reflection of reality. But that, of course, rarely matters. I sold it when I thought the bubble it was riding was about to pop.
I'm noticing quite a few bloggers talking (or - God help us - musing... gah!) about shutting down their blogs or "taking it private", and I've also seen some go down and lock up to the general public like that already. What's going on in bloggovania?
I can see if your interest level has just gone downhill, that's one thing. Lives change, shit happens, something's gotta give, and several other yaddas. But it appears what is happening is stalkers and trolls have sprouted here and there - mostly on blogs belonging to women. At least that's what I'm guessing. I always seem to miss the actual trollings, myself. I'm not sure it happens on blogs the guys do, or at least not as much as the women. It doesn't happen here.
Our old political blog was haunted by some kind of neo-fascist medieval monk of some sort (Brian and gino can attest) and I eventually did have to move on to Haloscan and ban the idiot, but only because he was really starting to wail on one of the blog's team members - who happened to be a woman and a Muslim. So he was outta here. But it never dawned on anybody to shut down because of his offensive behavior and constant state of spooky. We just moved to segregate him. He tried to scale the walls but wasn't that smart so POW we win.
I know the hassle of "cleaning up" the comments from people who tell you what a great blog you have now here buy some of my drug paraphernalia. And people piss and moan about having to do "word verification" but it is one way to hold it all at bay. And - I'll be straight up with you - I'll delete stuff I don't want to see or hear. It's one thing to have an honest opposing viewpoint on something - that's legit. But offensive is offensive no matter whose mouth it bloviates out of. And this isn't a democracy, nor is there some mandated level of "free expression for all" around here. If you're a dolt, you're deleted. There are folks who say "I never delete comments and people who delete them are cowards". Well bullshit to them anyway. This isn't an open forum if you're a twit. Tough luck.
My point is that I don't see why decent blogs have to get taken down because of someone's poor behavior, nor do I see a point to "private" blogs that can only be seen by a select number of people - I mean, what's the point of that? Just get a damn IM system or something.
I thought it was especially nice, the other day, when Avitable added me to his list of 5 "Thinking Bloggers", seeing as how I usually try to keep the thinking well hidden around here, and with good reason. And I acknowledged his kindness and thanked him right then and there - thinking it was over. But it wasn't. OK so much for my "thinking" abilities.
This morning Steph Waller (of international film fame) tagged me with the award AGAIN, only this time she invoked the tagging mechanism, making it obligatory that I fess up to this incongruous accolade.
As grateful as I am to two such dissimilar sources for such a mention I have to wonder out loud if putting me in that category is truly justified. I say that not because I want to feign a suitably becoming false modesty - which would be a fraud on my part anyhow - but in light of the fact that I departed a thick and arcane political blog of my past in order to chase a metaphorical chef around a proverbial smorgasbord of complete nonsense. "Thinking" was one of the last things I wanted to do. To my mind that was something I did in the previous life, and could only be recalled on an E-Meter in the hands of L. Ron Hubbard. But... little (apparently) did I know.
If the residue of some intellectual rigor remains on the husk of my former self like the dew on the shell of a dead cicada (can this guy write or what!?) I am totally unaware of it. I really wanted this blog to be a light-hearted romp and originally applied it to all the blog lists in the known internet universe as "living the good life in the age of terror." Uh-huh. You could look it up!
But, no, my idea of a "thinking blogger" is the kind of writer who would address the eternal dichotomies of my own twisted view of the world; I am a pacifist who believes in the right to own guns. A conservative who thinks Dick Chaney is the evil puppeteer in the White House. A resident of Illinois who still isn't buying Barak Obama. A Christian who is pro-choice. A straight guy who has no problem with gay marriages. A voter who believes liberals are numbskulls just a smidge worse than neocons - who are idiots. An open border isolationist. A free trade America-firster. An opponent of the occupation of Iraq for all the right reasons and an equally harsh critic of those who oppose the war but do so for all the wrong reasons. People who knee-jerk their reaction against George Bush and bash him out of their own petty hatred are on my short list out the door because they don't oppose him for all the better reasons. In short, I am insane and I have a program, but it isn't yours. And, because of that, I have been kicked off of discussion boards and often find myself being screamed at with equal vigor from both the right and the left at various and sundry times of the day.
But, equally so, my list of "Thinking Bloggers" includes people from whom I gather precious support and serenity during the battering I take normally.
1. Samizdata is self-described as "a varied group made up of social individualists, classical liberals, libertarians, extropians, futurists, 'Porcupines', Karl Popper fetishists, recovering neo-conservatives, crazed Ayn Rand worshipers, over-caffeinated Virginia Postrel devotees, witty Frédéric Bastiat wannabes, cypherpunks, minarchists, kritarchists and wild-eyed anarcho-capitalists from Britain, North America, Australia and Europe." And that's about right.
2. The Antiwar.com Blog is a team blog and a haven for people who see Iraq as a wrongheaded adventure and President Bush as a dangerous liberal. Go put that in your pipe and smoke it!
3. The Mises Economics Blog will prove to you, after you become a daily reader, that anything short of total Darwinian free markets is slavery and only freedom can actually set you free. Imagine that.
4. Lew Rockwell is a right-wing voice that says things like "you can bet your life that the mindless media lapdogs of the GOP -- Limbaugh, Hannity, etc. -- will be faithfully promoting this latest neocon (with the emphasis on the "con") totalitarian gambit." So much for the monolithic thinking that rules the same-old debate in this culture, eh?
5. Cato@Liberty The mortal enemy of "big government conservatism." Rock on boyz!
This would be my list of "Thinking Bloggers" but I severely doubt we see them touting the tag.
Anyway - many thanks to Steph and Adam. And I hope I didn't just scare everybody away now...?
Even though we went out last night with our restaurant clubbers I still haven't eaten any of our little animal friends in almost three days. The crazy thing was that Wildwood is, ostensibly, a steakhouse. I had a beautiful wedge salad with cherry tomatoes and a glass of sparkling wine followed by a "Mushroom Pasta Trio" in a light cream sauce with a mellow little Chardonnay (remember - pasta with cream sauces = Chardonnay), followed by a white chocolate cheese cake with a mug of kahlua/coffee. Altogether not exactly "vegan" because of all the dairy going on in there but, still, remarkably meat-free for a guy raised on thick, conscience-free ethnic cooking in Chicago. Just so long as there's still wine a lot of things become more bearable. You can put up with a lot of stuff with a little wine around. I figured out long ago that the best way to handle the "watch what you're eating" funks we slip into from time to time is through the use of alcohol and chocolate. You may be cutting down on things or counting points or shortening your portions, but the only real way to get through it and keep your sanity is by the helpful use of alcohol. And also chocolate which, as it turns out, doesn't have quite the same "plumping factor" as alcohol does.
But what's the point here, really?
The point is that in the past I've had no problem going through substantial sections of time on a completely meat-free ration. It's just that it doesn't last and it turns out being just one hell of a lot of work to maintain! To keep things fresh you may as well go to the market every day as in ancient times or you end up with softening carrots or wilting lettuce and stuff.
I have a ton of admiration for vegetarians. And my motivation isn't exactly the silly altruism of "oh, our dear animal neighbors" or anything as numb as that; I truly believe that a vegetarian diet is probably the best thing for you. So long as it still contains wine and chocolate, that is. I mean I could exist totally on those veggie trays they put out at parties; dip a carrot, dip a tomato, dip a broccoli, dip another tomato. If they never brought out the fried chicken and beef sandwiches I wouldn't actually care. And every once in a while I have made myself a plate of nothing but cooked and steamed veggies - just because that's what I had a taste for - and that's dinner. Corn on the cob, bean salads, peppers, onions, salsas... a world of stuff and it's all good.
But how on Earth do you maintain it? How do you do it without it becoming the only thing you think about? Do you go to the market every day to make sure you're getting the freshest stuff? Are there any nutrients you lose from not eating meat that you have to be sure of replenishing through what then becomes a "must-have" vegetable? Are there any resources online a person could tap into to help out with these kinds of questions? How would a person who travels for his work just about every other week keep it going? I'd be interested in hearing from people who do this (I guess that cuts you out of this one, Adam, since it was obvious from the other night that you would rather croak than eat anything from the plant world).
Just don't tell me I'd have to walk away from the wine and chocolate part. That's a deal-breaker.
But seriously folks... you know how sometimes you unpack in the next hotel room and after washing your face and reviving your energy you look up into the mirror and realize you've somehow added still more gray hair and the faint lines around your eyes that once gave you the look of a wise and generous and mature, artistic and brilliant man have now morphed into some kind of street map from MapQuest? Including the construction sites via satellite? And on turning to go you see a profile of yourself in one of those hotel mirrors they seem to love to set in weird, unusual locations that force you to catch glimpses of yourself you've never seen before? And you suddenly realize you must be looking at one of those funhouse things where you're all distorted because the last time you looked - like, thirty years ago - your stomach didn't actually protrude from an otherwise slim physique into another time zone like that? And you ask yourself... who puts mirrors in odd places like that so that when you walk by you scare the snot out of yourself because you didn't think you were sharing a room with an old retired steel worker from Gary who has had twelve too many cheeseburgers and sits on his working class ass all day long? And who puts mirrors on the backs of bathroom doors in hotel rooms so you can see yourself taking a dump? Who actually wants to watch themselves doing that? Here's me bending over, here's me pulling paper from the roll, here's me with twenty extra pounds of new baggage all hanging over my belt. Here's me going back to the edge of the bed to sit there and click channels until I collapse, no longer looking like anybody I recognize.
You know how that happens? Yeah... I hate that part.
I know, I know. We make a great big deal about blogger meet-ups and then spend the time to review the meeting in our blogs with ha-ha funny terms and we wave and make faces and a waitress takes a picture and there we are... life's good, we had fun, we're so very cool and blah blah blah.
But the time has come to drop the facade and tell the truth, because you're all going to find out anyway, in time.
I may as well fess up to my family and my friends. And I urge Avitable and Miss Britt to admit the truth as well. Believe me, you two, life will be so much easier when you let it go. No more hiding, no more skulking around in the dark, no more deception. Face it. BE the truth.
We won't be able to hide the fact much longer anyway.
This final meeting - of which there were twelve others beforehand - has completed the settlement of the Local Universe. The Central and Superuniverse, having been established by the highly effective work done by the Commission's Secret Government (Branch 823zed) when they finalized the eradication of the Vladivostok Kharma Puppies (who were originally sent by Xenu a hundred billion years ago to distract you from our infiltration but ran too far ahead of their leadership and went criminal), is in our control. And now we are ready to initialize the final phase of our takeover, which will be done by this summer. Like around July. Or September maybe. I forget.
I don't know what these cruel, cruel people are going to photoshop onto me because they are MEAN. And did I tell you they were cruel? Well, they are really cruel. So I thought I'd post a preemptive strike before they fooled you into thinking I was there of my own volition. From right to left, Miss Britt, Avitable, and the late Senator Robert Taft's dead brother Eugene.
Had a great time. Now I know where to get a freebie next time I'm in Orlando... (God, these people are my daughters' age! What the fuck am I doing???)
Well this morning I am on my way to Florida on business. One of the few places left my customers can't get product fast enough. Plus I hear it is very beautiful down there this time of year... and yet...
...and yet, I keep hearing this spooky music whenever the subject comes up. It's like something weird and strange is about to happen to me, but what? I can't quite seem to put my finger on it. Somehow.
I found an incredibly heady meme today and, man, is this ever a long one. One of those 100 question ones that sort of ask the same question in a different way from time to time just to gauge a question of degree and then spit out exceptionally detailed read-outs based on your answers.
Long ago and far away, when I didn't even have the three or four readers I have now, I talked about a magic meme our office manager found and basically forced us all to take. I've never been able to find it again no matter how hard I've tried. But I took it for real, trying to be as honest as I could (this was way before I became jaded by meeting subversive bloggers from all around the country who have infected my very soul with their cynical venom... as opposed to hopeful venom I suppose). Where the hell was I? Oh yeah...
There were something like a zillion detailed questions that just about hit every possible subject and nuance you could imagine. Seriously - it took ages to complete. It was made to determine not only what would be your ideal profession, but your ideal environment and your ideal social milieu. In my case I was supposed to be an unmarried economics professor in a small, obscure university with ivy on the walls somewhere in the northeast. I find that more interesting as time goes on. I really DO like ivy covered walls! But I think - in all reality - that if I was an unmarried man I'd be the biggest slob in the world. I seem to degenerate whenever the Mrs is gone for long stretches of time.
Anyway this meme is pretty close to that one in a lot of respects.
I didn't register at the site and so I think that means you only got a tip of the iceberg for results. I hate to register for stuff like that, intriguing as it sounded. To get the full monty with graphs and stuff it looks like you have to register, but the results that are available to you without registering are cause enough for conversation.
It measures and codifies your personality.
Answering it as honestly as I could, I was labeled a
SOLITARY
Need no one but themselves. Liberated from the drive to impress and please. Remarkably free of the emotions & involvements that distract others.
Solitude:Individuals with the solitary personality style have small need of companionship and are most comfortable alone. Independence:They are self-contained and do not require interaction with others in order to enjoy their experiences and get on in life. Sangfroid:Solitary men and women are even-tempered, calm, dispassionate, unsentimental, and unflappable. Sexual composure:They are not driven by sexual needs. They enjoy sex, but will not suffer in its absence. Feet on the ground:They are unswayed by either praise or criticism and can confidently come to terms with their own behavior.
I suppose there are grains of truth in that. I could quibble with a degree here or there but on the whole - not over the top.
Anyway, certainly not a big waste of time. Maybe try it and see? Just make sure you have the TIME! ---------------------- NOTE: I know I said there would be a lot less YouTube around here, but a small video was brought to my attention and I've put it in the sidebar. It really deserves to be looked at full screen, if possible, to see what I'm getting at. I am left wanting more of this. A bit blurry at first, but stay with it - it just keeps getting better. You may agree.
A plaque honoring Eliot Ness has been stolen. It was spirited right off the premises of the Cleveland Police Department. Yes I was in Cleveland this past week, but do you think your intrepid reporter would do such a dastardly thing to the man who dealt with Al Capone? Yeah... I could only wish. Would that be sweet in my office here or what, I mean considering!
More proof, if it was needed, that American politics is already swirling at the bottom of the crapper was provided last week in Wisconsin. There, instead of debates putting everyone to sleep, a candidate driving a pickup will just chase down his opponent's wife in the Department of Natural Resources parking lot. Winner take all, I guess.
I know of one fellow who makes sure to see the great museums and sights of the places he goes to on business, and if I already wasn't the smartest and richest man on Earth I would seethe with jealousy over these kinds of adventures.
But I can't speak for others when they travel to do their business. For me whatever I could do in places other than home never seem to be possible. That is not to say I haven't been able to see things in all this. I've driven across Chesapeake Bay in a driving rain, passed by Washington's headquarters in Morristown NJ. I've seen the Atlantic, the Pacific, the Gulf and the Lakes. Crossed the Mississippi more times than I can remember. Passed through the Gettysburg battlefield going from one customer to the next. But it is all "in passing." The one time I made a concerted effort to find a winery in Northern California when I realized I had three hours of scheduling glitch on my hands... I couldn't find the damn place.
And the times when all the great places a person could tour through are open are the times I have to be working. I drove over 1400 miles in 4 days this recent trip, and when I check in - I usually collapse. Imagine... you drive for two hours to find an obscure building in a little town, have to get out, do the "dog and pony show", and then drive to the next location. Maybe it's 8 minutes away. Maybe it's 80 minutes away. It's really no wonder people on the road end up being alcoholics. If I wasn't so cheap I'm sure I'd drink more on the road too. "Oh there you go sir, you want another drink?" - "Eh... how much...?" - "Ten bucks." - "No more to drink, I'm trying to beat my per diem."
It's one industrial park after another. Unless of course it's the Warren G. Harding's home in Marion, Ohio. That was fun to "drive by" - I guess.
But I swear to you upon my father's grave, if ever I am in Plymouth Notch, Vermont (birthplace of Silent Cal), god dammit I'M STOPPING!
Well a lot happened to me out there in the wilds of Ohio and Western Pennsylvania, but nothing good enough to put in a blog.
Hmm... that may be a blogging First right about there.
Oh but wait! What Ho, Sir Clackeywhack!? He comes home on a Thursday with nothing to say but the Roundtable saves his blog from oblivion!
Joe wants to shoot Tyra Banks out of a cannon and right into a brick wall. Who do you think would make a good pile of grapeshot? Scream all you want here.I'M going to have a bahth as soon as the maid draws it for me. Somebody give that broad a pencil...
Monday, April 09, 2007
Gone From Ya
He dispersed the crowd very simply by telling them he'd send for the pie wagon and take them all down to the station house if they didn't twenty-three skidoo. —Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
This blog will be down for a few days whilst I and this monkey (See photo - I am stealing Dave's monkey for a few days, but don't tell Dave... thanks) drive to Cleveland, then Pittsburgh, then back here, adding customers and schmoozing regulars as I go. Your assignment, due upon my return, is to raise several million dollars and send it to me so I can quit my job and just blog all day long, every day, for the rest of my life and try to chase down that pesky Italian chef once and for all.
I have an immense amount of faith in both of you, my dear readers, and I just somehow know that you will accomplish this for me by the time I get back here on Thursday.
So may the path be straight and in front of ya till I return with the sun in your face and the soft rain on your crops and may the something something something....
First, thanks to those CV-stalwarts who stopped by to wish the Mrs and me a happy anniversary over the weekend. Very sweet of you all, indeed! Next year, for our 30th, we plan on a cruise to Panama where we shall visit Teddy's canal. I think the food on those boats is alright, don't you? Anyway here's hoping. I don't usually like being too far away from electrical outlets, though. One never knows when one will need to use the blender to replenish the vodka lemonades. I mean it does get a bit warm down there, after all.
On another note, we all know that nothing is quite so self-centered as when bloggers blog about their blog. How very self-conscious of them, I'd say. Horrid self-indulgence. But you will allow me this one moment of introspection, I hope, because I've gotten into some bad habits lately. And this is more a review of myself than anything else.
Though it's fun to play with, adding video through You Tube or the other various sources to this blog - I feel - breaks the character too much. I'm not sure I end up liking how they look once they've been up a while. I almost want to change the number of posts I put on a page just to cycle them out the bottom already. It isn't a comment on videos on blogs in general, it is a comment about videos on this blog, specifically. The whole idea here is that this is your eccentric Uncle Bertie who lives in that old art deco monstrosity down at the end of the block. And to the degree that "aesthetic distance" gets broken something is lost in the translation. I'm not the stereotypical pithy 20/30-something geek with a nihilistic sense of humor.* I'm that guy's wheezing, decrepit uncle. And I LIKE it that way!
So the You-Tube and video use will be dropped severely, and even at that - if ever used - they will stay true to period and style.
The other thing is that I still regress into religion and politics from time to time. And there's nothing wrong with that as issues that people bring up, even in the midst of humor blogs where the author legitimately feels it is important to stress something. I'm talking about this blog. What happens is that I write it, I agree with what I wrote, and then when I come back to it it just seems out of place in this venue. Even when readers participate it just looks wrong in its space. And those people who get here through bloglines and other feeders have often wondered where the post I just wrote went by the time they got here. Chances are a political or religious post - more times than not - gets deleted before it has too long a shelf life to begin with.
Finally - and this you may have already noticed - some design elements have changed. Subtle and without much ado, but changed. The Mrs and I will still do our restaurant reviews, but they don't deserve an entire section of the sidebar. And, in time, I will finish the "27 Things..." but they will also be put in proper perspective. But I want to build up the retro and stay true to the design. From here on out things that borderline "off design" will have to really have a good reason to be here. I have also re-arranged the links to other blogs. Yours is still there! Just in a new spot.
This is the last I speak of this.
Now... one of the biggest criticisms I have of other blogs is that they spend too much time saying what they are instead of just doing it. And that is exactly what I am guilty of right this very second. So I hereby shut-up.
___________________ * like maybe 90% of blogdom and wherein only a bare handful of those kinds of blogs are great to read - all of which are in my blogroll anyway. And the others that are similar but not a fraction as good... aren't.
I'm thinking at 500 posts we take this blog in another direction.
This is number 446. Time to think.
In the next few weeks I will be hardly here because of business travel. That'll be even more time to think. I could get myself in lots of trouble then huh?
In the meantime Saturday is a bit of a day.
For the Mrs and I, this is our 29th wedding anniversary.
You will, of course, excuse me if I don't play with you today.
Flying cars, eradication of diseases, hundreds of millions of people connected via their computers, DVD's in the mail... lies. All lies. What does 3007 lie about? Stephen Funk thinks this may be as good as it gets.
Our human nature will always lag behind our own technology. Which means there'll still be cheating spouses and murder on the Starship Enterprise.
Space opera! It'll still sell soap!
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Will The Real RW Please Stand Up?
OK so earlier tonite just before dinner MrsRW was chiding me about some of the things I do here at the frenetic world of CV.
She made it known, and quite correctly, that this medium does not translate tongue-in-cheek very well. Sarcasm just doesn't play on the Internet unless the writer is truly genius........ yeah OK not something I have to worry about claiming.
No inflection to hear, no reading of the speaker's face. You can't see the smirk when he's typing up in his office eight hundred miles from where you are. Hard to tell, therefore, when a person is being serious and when they are "having" you. And, from some of the replies I've gotten over the past few years of this I'd have to say - yes there are some very good souls out there who find it very easy to express support or hopes that things get better soon. Proof, anyway, that there are good-hearted people in all walks of life and a person really doesn't have to go too far to find some of them.
So I have been somewhat charged to fess up a few things to you, for the sake of peace in my mind and so the Mrs will stop looking at me out of the corner of her eye and calling me a poser. I hate when that happens!
Therefore I am instructed to say - and rightly so - that sometimes I lead you on. Other times I'm really pulling your leg. Most of the time I am speaking "in character" - "RW", rather than... well... me, for example. I'm not really a crotchety 53 year old man who smokes cigars, plays the stock market, is somewhere politically to the right of Richard Nixon, complains about everything, is anal about his finances, enjoys fine dining, and acts like a cranky history professor in a small backwater college lost in obscurity forever.
Ok? Just so we have that straightened out.
I care that the right idea is communicated. I care a LOT. And that perception of me up there would just be wrong wrong wrong.
I'd be an economics professor. Haven't you been paying attention!?
I don't see why I have to be expected to say "hello" to people when I first see them after a while. I know you're there and that you're great and all, but do you really have to have my greeting just to assure yourself that we see you? What's the matter... don't you know you're there, or are you just worried that that might not be you two inches behind your forehead? ________________
Every once in a while I am going to tromp all over one of your self-described and cherished social or political truths which you may think are inviolate and concluded as if by some foregone magic. Most of the time that happens I'm not going to be aware you've uncovered an Absolute I was supposed to heed for all eternity and it will be an honest oversight on my part; but sometimes I will know exactly what's going on and will be doing it on purpose just because I know it will really get on your nerves. In either case storming away in a righteous huff as if you are either some brutalized minority or part of an all-knowing majority - either of which simply may not be criticized - is not the right response. If you don't want to be generalized about by others then don't generalize yourself as part of your defense. All of "you" are not alike. So if ever you find yourself walking in the opposite direction from where I am standing while using that kind of motivation for yourself please do us both a favor and walk in that direction faster. ________________
Years ago my crowd was often looked upon as people who "didn't fit in" with what was all the current thing. We didn't know all the latest styles or use all the latest words or get ourselves seen in all the latest places wearing all the latest shoes. We listened to Motown and smoked cigarettes and loved Kurosawa and actually read Kerouac. Based on our own insecurities - which were huge - we would nervously laugh and say "if you're not here you're not where it's at," and it was self-defense because we saw hundreds of you over there and maybe five of us over here. So you don't get to turn that around on us now that you realize how empty all that shit you were doing ended up to be. "IT" is not where you are at, all of a sudden. I'm more insecure than you are and we thought of that rationalization first anyhow. ________________
If I don't post something to your blog for a few days don't get all "well if you won't for me then I won't for you" on me. Sometimes everything has already been said by others, or everything you've said was said perfectly, or maybe your post is just shit today. This is supposed to be fun, you moron, it isn't quid pro quo and people have actual lives and stuff going on here. ________________
And if I've repeatedly spent hours and hours getting you to cheer up I don't expect something the guy in the next lane said to you to undo in eight seconds everything I've done over the course of the last few days to build you up. One of the ways I can also be of help, maybe, is to just hand you the goddamn knife to slice open your stupid wrists already. Just let me know.
MSN has another one of those articles on relationships going on about the Five Things She'd Love To Hear and The Five Things She'd Hate To Here on a date, and I just want to say that they're okay if you're a naive little twit who doesn't get around. But take it from me, a veritable expert at relationshipping and all that kind of crap - they don't know a pomegranate from a key hole.
Transparent attempts to impress, feeling you have to show what an expert you are on the subject no matter what topic she brings up. I mean... come on. That's obvious. Everybody knows that only works after you get her drunk.
But these 5 things they say in the article that she'd love to hear. Give me a break!
"You look amazing"? - Talk about transparent! I don't think so. "How was your day"? - You can say this but one look at your face will tell her you don't actually give a shit. She isn't stupid. "I’m really having a great time with you" - Oh puh-leeze. Why don't you wag your tail and chase after a chew toy she tosses into the weeds too, you jaloneyhead? "What do you think about such-and-such topic"? - Meaning asking her opinion will make her feel you are respecting her mind. Uh-huh. And what if she wants to convince you to vote for Hillary Clinton? Huh? What about that? Every think of THAT? Bingo... date over! "I’d love to see you again" - Um... my friend....... guys just don't talk like that. Ok?
No. There are five sure fire things to say that will tip the scales for you and they will work every. single. time.
1. "Here, have some money." - Women love money, and if there are no strings attached, all the better. Who says money can't buy happiness? 2. "I'll wait here until you go get his phone number." - Because women hate jealous guys. 3. "Yeah that's a nice bracelet. Here, let me buy it for you." - It's romantic to buy her everything she looks at and says she likes. 4. "What do you want me to cook for dinner?" - With both people working in so many relationships it actually isn't very fair to expect she comes home and cooks for you. It's only fair if you come home and cook for her. God... this stuff is so simple. 5. "OK, I'll wait for you to call me." - Then you sit there being very loyal. Women love loyalty.
You know, it breaks my heart the number of single people out there who can't figure the relationship game out these days. I know with the ultra-fast supertech world we live in the personal touch is being lost. Just pay attention to the older, grayer heads around.
Working from home isn't really working from home - I'm out the door pretty much every day anyway, but that's alright. Part of the deal.
The frustration is you sit in a meeting at work and they tell you "if you're a nickle or a dime off here or there go ahead and make a special price" but if you call to check on that during the week when out in the field they hem and haw like you're giving away the store. Make up your damn mind. Don't leave it hanging in mid-air.
I need to get in the vehicle and see three people today. They don't know I'm coming. I will hit and run. I am on the edge of something big off the Omaha trip last week. Freight-issues away from a go.
At some point you disconnect from the work; yes and no mean nothing as much as going to the next contact. Stay focused. Get busy. Chalk it up. Everything down in housing and we are in a brutal war with slave labor making the stuff we make here at home. So be it.
This weekend I realized I have three writing projects going at once. The words are freer and spits out easier but the head aches a bit and my eyes are swimming back into my head. I can't sleep and can't shake the shadows. Feed this, pay that, plan for them, get it done; and if you forget a nicety the polite-police start brooding.
I want to stop eating grease and fat. I want silence and quiet. Water and air. Enough with the snacks and quick-fire stomach fillers. I need a mountaintop and a crisp clean sky. But first the bills.
Today after a short jaunt out to change out the company vehicle and a quick visit to a potential customer in the area I returned home to continue the rest of the dreary work day. I stripped to a pair of shorts and sleeveless tee, poured myself a nice glass of Bardolino, fired up a Cohiba Black (Maduro), and slogged through an endless stream of phone calls and note taking in the bright sunshine. One of these days I'm going to be filthy rich and I won't have to work any more. No more slaving away at the salt mines under these horrendous conditions. Oh the iniquity! Iniquity I tell you! 
