My Music Monday / Record of the Month - Classic

Since it's my blog and I can do what I want - no, it's true! - I'm combining posts today. While staying with the normal My Music Monday™, I'm conjoining it with Record of the Month - Classic. 

I had picked the MMM selection first and then realized it came from a pretty decent album that was also a debut disk, so I am running with it. 

The eponymous debut by the Cars was a pretty good album for anytime, let alone 1978 (keep in mind, the same summer yielded the Grease soundtrack). I got to see the Cars live that same year, as they opened the World Series of Rock (which also featured Todd Rundgren, Eddie Money and Bob Welch).  They were loud. I remember that. 

I had to look up how many hits they had from that disk, because the album is so ingrained, and all songs so familiar, it's foggy for me.  It turns out, there were only three singles ("Just What I Needed", "My Best Friends's Girl" and "Good Times Roll").  Equally deserving are, "Bye Bye Love", "You're All I've Got Tonight" and "Moving in Stereo". 

....and none of those are the MMM song, so having eight good songs on any disk, let alone a debut isn't too shabby. 

My MMM song is the closing track, "All Mixed Up".  Sung by Benjamin Orr - who always carried most songs better than Ric Ocasek - it's one of those songs you feel should have been a radio hit / single, but was overlooked. That's probably for the best or I'd be tired of it by now, considering it's {gulp} 34 years old.  

Still, when it comes on through rotation, I never click to move to the next song, so that's gotta say something. 

Hotter Than Mojave in My Heart

The Cure's "Hot Hot Hot" has been playing in my head for days - but I've already used that title and I'm really trying to only use song titles once, though I know I've slipped on a half a dozen occasions or so.

But it is Africa hot. It's like Mt. Doom, without the whimsy.

Climate change be damned. My rule about not complaining about heat be fucking damned. It already feels like I've been condemned to Hell, so let's roll with it.

Having no central air has not helped. Those little window units (my office and our bedroom) seem to struggle to keep up - especially in the office. The day starts out ok, but by 2-3p.....I'm starting to sweat. It doesn't help that Petey likes to lie in front of the fan.

I haven't felt good about him being outside in this heat. He doesn't seem to drink a lot of water, so I've been giving him ice cubes which he seems to enjoy. So for now, he's only outside on his walks and under a fan (or in front of) the rest of the day. He seems quite content.

Even Sophie endures walking past Petey to get to a cool place. Everyone of us hung out in the bedroom on Saturday - not a habit I want to do with Petey......but we'll see.  But he was struggling after his walks. Official weather said 98 degrees....my car said 102.  You gotta figure that heat on his paws was horrid, even though I tried to keep im on that grass and shady sides of the street.

For me, it's a 2-3 shower a day situation.  I can't cool down, which is almost never the case. Hot water doesn't even enter the equation when turning on the controls. I tried the gym a few times this week, but  it was draining. I opted to skip Spin yesterday. It can be temperature controlled there, but it's already a challenge to keep hydrated after a regular class without this warmth.

If it's 80 today, I will do yoga, but time will tell.

Each year we've "justified" not putting in central air for two weeks per year. I might be over that thinking right now. Of course, once we are in the '70s I will balk at that notion.

My parents call and tell us to come out and sleep at their air conditioned house, but I'm already in Hell, so why add to the misery?



Song by:  Iris DeMent

Bread

Tomatoes.  Onions. Garlic. Olive Oil. Mozzarella. Day old bread. A vinaigrette. It seems all too simple.

Apparently it was.

For our neighborhood picnic on the 4th, I decided we would make Panzanella.  It seemed light. It seemed refreshing. It seemed like something I didn't have to cook on a 95 degree day.

It turned out fair at best.

It also turns out, there doesn't seem to be a recipe for Panzanella. There are a thousand, and all vary by degrees. Some have cucumbers, some have olives, some have capers and some have peppers. Some don't have mozzarella. Don't get me started on what kind of bread to use or not use.

I probably should have stuck with a recipe, and for the most part I did, but I tweaked and that might have been the death knell. Or I just picked the wrong one.

I chopped. I sliced. I dried out the bread. I mixed. Still it had little flavour and the bread was mushier than I thought it should have been.

Some recipes had you mixing the concoction anywhere from 30 minutes to 12 hours before serving. We did ours an hour before serving and the bread was too mushy. And depending on the recipe the vinegar to use is red wine, champagne or balsamic. Which was the right one???

I opted for champagne, at it wouldn't colour the bread or mozzarella  - and I like champagne vinegar. In retrospect, red wine may have been the better choice.

It wasn't horrible or anything, but I wasn't feeling it. I've had good Panzanella before - this wasn't it. But I'd try it again, or try to make it again.

The picnic weather was so hot, we only stayed like 45 minutes, so I don't know how much of it people ate - or if they came back for seconds.  I didn't.  But I'd try again.

Song by: Todd Rundgren

Best Friend

You can all stand down now - we're keeping him.

Petey that is.

We decided last Saturday. I'm just getting around to telling you. It took me a few days to even tell my sister.

While we always loved him as uncles, it is different being a dad. Even a step one. But right now, I'm feeling less and less a stepdad and more of a real one towards him. Maybe that is me picking up dog pooh talking, but he fits in.

I'm not sure we know if he's happy or not, but he's content. I have to believe he misses the kids, the big yard and his learned ability to open their sliding glass doors and screen doors and go out and in whenever he damn well pleases.

But, he only had access to the kitchen inside. With us, he wanders the downstairs like a pro and loves flopping down in the middle the room and just passes out. 10 year old beagles sleep a LOT.  His three walks per day and the 90+ heat are probably not helping that fatigue. I guess we'll see when / if the weather breaks.

So the process has begun. I went on-line and got his license. He has a new, albeit temporary, ID for his collar with our phone number and address. The Invisible Fence folks were out to provide an estimate (no judgments please, he's been on it before and fine and he loathes being on that run that is stretched between the house and trees). We're fitting him with a new collar that won't let him pull as much, but he's a hound and we have deer, bunnies and yes, say it, squirrels. He tugs. That's what he does. We'll both adapt.

I don't anticipate the walks to lessen, except when I travel. It's good for him and it socializes us too. We end up talking to neighbors even more than we have - and that's a good thing. It's hard to stand and talk when "someone" is on a squirrel (c'mon - say like Veruca Salt!) or bunny scent.

And Petey has been so much better on the leash.

Then there is Sophie. Is she thrilled? No.  Is she coming around? Yes.

They are now in the same room at the same time and there is very little hissing. Last night Sophie was was next to 710 on their chair and Petey climbed up and slept on the ottoman.

...and earlier in my office, they were only 3' apart. Granted Sophie was 3' above him, giving her potential striking advantage (it never came to that).

I think they will eventually become good buddies and for whatever reason, Petey hasn't found the cat food bowl, so all is right with the world.

For all the concern from 710 of me being my father with animals (i.e. permissive), it's turning out he has a softer heart for Petey than I do. It is quite endearing to watch. Like all the other animals we've had, they'll like him better - they always do.

I'm really not jealous by this, it is great to watch and it expands our family.

You can expect a few pictures of Petey I'm sure - if nothing else at 12 of 12.  Sophie's going to have to share her screen time.


Song by:  the English Beat

The Forbidden Pool

July 4th was hot.  Africa hot.  It was just miserable.

It still is.  And no true break in sight. 

We had our annual holiday parade around the neighborhood, which I coated myself with SPF30. But I found every piece of shade I could find. I brought water for the dog, which he didn't drink.  No did he eat the popsicle I got him.

Then there was the picnic.  Not an ounce of shade back there and baking baking hot. We stayed an hour - it felt like 50.

But then......then it was off to a second cookout. A much smaller group, the promise of shade.....and more importantly, a pool.

Maybe 25-30 feet long, 11 feet deep and 80 degree waters. It was perfect.

Granted, I had some reservations about taking my shirt off with the neighbors, but the warmth makes you not care so much about this stuff.  No one looked.  No one cared.  I didn't get out until my entire body was pruned and my core body temperature dropped 10 degrees.

....and the yard is pretty frickin' awesome.

Problem was, I did eventually have to get out. Food called. Though I would have gladly ate this plate of fixins while sitting in the pool.

We brought the fruit salad. But the corn was good, the ribs were good and the hot dog was ok. If they actually made the chicken, I never saw it. It was too hot to get near a grill, so I just conversed with others.

In the meantime, my body temp was right back to where it had been before the pool.

I just looked at 710 and said, "I want one of those".   I don't think I'll get it though.

I would entertain central air though. As much as we just spent on the bathroom renovation, if someone told me yesterday it would be $30k to install AC, I wouldn't have blinked an eye and wrote the check right then and there.

We always say we can do without it for the 5-10 days a year it was this hot, but now we are on two weeks in a row and again, no end in sight. I'm trying to say it would be worth it for resale - if and when that ever happens.

But I really just want to be cooler.


Song by:  Peter Gabriel

Free

Happy 4th.  Of July that is, not May the 4th, you know, Star Wars Day.

I suppose being free can come in a lot of different forms. I suppose that freedom can matter differently to any person in question.

For your huddled masses, they are yearning for that freedom.  That is what the holiday is about - I mean, after defeating those nasty Brits who cameth by land or by sea. Yes, 'cameth' is a word. I just made it up. They have to come from somewhere, ya know!

Yes, that whole Continental Congress and the Declaration thing that was allegedly signed on July 4th - and also marked the dates of death of John Adams and Thomas Jefferson (not the same year as the signing, of course) - is why we light off explosives. We were no longer under the rule of King George.  But since that 236 years, freedom looks different.

For, say, Anderson Cooper, being able to come out is a certain kind of freedom.  For other homos, it might be the freedom to marry.

Of course, Katie Holmes is where it's at in terms of establishing independence. Good for her. Tom Cruise has always creeped me out and though I know almost nothing about Ms. Holmes, I'm rooting for her.

That news made me think back to a Family Guy episode segment containing Katie and Ms. Cruise. There isn't an "official" clip, so you have to deal with a weirded put together one, but you'll get the idea.



The 4th I'm sure for most means a day off, picnic and fireworks.  I'm all about the day off. I'm all about the food.  I don't care about the fireworks, I never have. And if I never have to hear Lee Greenwood again set to rockets, I'm golden!

I don't give much thought to the Battle of Concord or the ride of Paul Revere - even though I've been on the Freedom Trail two or three times.  I suspect most don't, other than those participating in Revolutionary War reenactments.

But wherever you find your streak of independence, celebrate that today - along with a kosher hot dog, some chips and a beer.


Song by: Paula Cole

Stretch Out and Wait

Deep in the recesses of my grey matter, I was hoping that going to yoga with my cousin David would be kind of an even-playing field of an event.

It was not.  ....and make no mistake, I was not on the winning team.

Oh, never mind that you're not to judge anyone else's practice, we all do it. You can't fight a tidal wave.

Actually, you don't judge them but you take notice of how much better they are than yourself and invariably feel bad for your own practice. Of course, I might just be talking about myself.  Aren't I always?

David is a rock star in the yoga. Ok, maybe he won't be teaching a class anytime soon, but I was duly impressed by his skills. He got into a few poses I could never do.  Ever. And for those who do it when they say to 'step or float to the front of your mat', he can move like no one else's business.  It's not quite floating, but it sure ain't stepping, like I do.

As one might imagine, it could have been trouble having us not only in a class together, but side-by-side. While others in the class might disagree, I think we were very well behaved...........overall.

Granted, I believe I said something I would not have said had I been alone.  And I do believe he did / said something he possibly might not have done without my present.  POSSIBLY.

I'll start with me.  Don't I always?

The class started out quite serenely. The last class, I was dripping buckets in the first 10 minutes, this time we barely got going.  But once we did, somethings proved challenging for me - especially in chair pose and my aching quads were smarting. The yogini said we should have a smile on our face.  As if!

Then with her calm voice, asked the rhetorical, "where are you right now".  I couldn't help myself - I had an audience. I replied:  "in Hell!".   For a non-paying audience to my stand-up, it got a good response, even from the yogini.

Then while doing a modified pigeon, she came around to adjust me. It's always iffy when someone touches me during class. I want or need the help, but someone strange is touching me.  But I took it like a big boy. She moved my shoulders and head into a deeper position, really making me stretch. She also rubbed what I'm thinking was Vic's Vap-o-rub on the back of my neck and traced it down the back of my shirt. David could smell it being right next to me (but not seeing she'd done it) thought it was Ben Gay.

Now onto his doing.

While doing whatever we wanted near the end of class, David stretched his legs.....over his head.  Quite impressive considering he's taller than I am. But no, he couldn't keep quiet. He has to say, "a few more inches and a little push and I can get it into my mouth."

I'm in Bridge pose and look over and say, "it's every man's dream.....whether they'll admit it or not".  

Then the giggling started.  From me.  From him.  Back to me.  ....oh and then from the lady on the other side of him who heard every word we said.

Since more people know David than they know me there, they asked if he was the one making the commotion. I fessed up that it was I, as it is unlikely they heard his conversation. Maybe the laughing. But I'm sure they heard my comment about being in Hell.

I enjoyed our workout - and his company, but I always do. Well, at least about his company. Somedays I can do without the physical activity.  ....and there's always next Sunday for a repeat performance.



Song by: the Smiths

My Music Monday

I'd say this song isn't for everyone, but when are any of my choices?  When is that true of anyone's taste in music?

I think it is fair to say most of my readers know the song, whether they like it or not.

Bobbie Gentry is mostly known for this song, "Ode to Billy Joe", but she had a number of other hits, and a frickin' variety show - or was on one with Glenn Campbell.  While most would write her off as a one-hit wonder, that's not really the truth.  She wrote and sang "Fancy", which decades later would be covered by Reba McIntyre.

Say what you want, a song about suicide and then onto basically one about teen prostitution was heady stuff, especially since it was of an era that was hearing "Sugar Sugar" from the Archies.

Gentry had an undeniably unique voice for then or now. But for a woman in music, in the mid to late '60s, she was quite unique as well. Writing all, or most, of her own music, playing it and sometimes producing it - she was no one's fool or puppet.

I know many don't like country music, and I'm not sure this qualifies.  Delta blues meets country, perhaps (really, check out "Mississippi Delta"). And even growing up, I wrote this off as a hokey kind of tune and the made-for-tv-movie with Robbie Benson playing "homosexual" didn't give much to prove me differently.

But if you can separate time and tv, the actual construct of the song is pretty amazing: the back and forth of the lyrics for everyday events interspersed with the news of the day, he simplicity of  guitar (which she plays), the tumbling strings, the vocal arrangement and the actual control of Gentry's vocals - even if you don't like her accent. 

I wish it were still up and running, but a few weeks ago the BBC had a great special on 'Where is Bobbie Gentry?'.  Narrated by Rosanne Cash, it went through Gentry's accomplishments, which were many, but not really recognized. ....and who knew she married (though no longer) to Jim Stafford, from "Spiders and Snakes" fame (or am I the only person who remembers him?).

Well, until this special, I couldn't have told you if Gentry was dead or Canadian. But she is and has really dropped off the radar in almost every way.

Still, "Ode to Billy Joe" still stands up. Actually, it is better for me now than it was as it has clearly grown on me, as has Gentry's talents.

....and who doesn't like an intro from Andy Williams?  Well, except maybe Spider Sabich (extra points of you get the reference w out Gooooogling it)

 

Halfway There

Oh my - it's July 1 already.

Of course, it feels like the dog days of summer............in Hell!  But you know me, I try not to complain about the heat, since I have opted to bitch about the cold.

It's official, 2012  is halfway over.  Done.  Kaput.

These days, hot as they are, seem interminably long.  You get a slight reprieve - slight - at 06:00. After that, it is all downhill.

Without workout, it is a two shower-per-day day. Three a day if the gym is part of the schedule. Oddly enough my skin is not yet dried out.

Last night was the last dinner in the house of a friend. You'll remember his partner died a few months back and he is in the process of selling the residence. But for some close friends, there was a dinner, drinks and dessert.

Ruckiry (not Jon's boss) for me, we walk home, so the amount I drink isn't an issue, unless you're my liver.  Then, it's an issue.

Marty will be sorely missed. I know he's moving from the 'hood and we have the greatest intention of staying in touch with him regularly. But we know that will be work. And there is the distinct possibility he'll want a complete clean break from the neighbors. But I'm thinking we might make the cut.

It was a nice group, but not a close group.  Folks we had seen before but only had interaction at this house. Still we felt special to be part of this crew - as it was small and everyone got along so well.

The food was minimal (compared to other events held here) and the two desserts (seen above) were grand. Yes, I'm gay, so I say things like 'grand'.

But yes, 2012 is on the wane. So am I - for the night. 1-2 bottles of wine in me and I'm blogging tipsy. Surprise. Surprise.

You get what you get folks.  I have to be up in a few hours to do hot yoga with my cousin. It's not a 'hot yoga' class, but it will be pushing 90 by the time the class starts, so I think it qualifies.



Song by:  Rise Against

Italian Plastic

Last night was just a dinner out with 710 and our friends and neighbors Tom & Sal.

They are fun to be around and it's nice to have such great neighbors.

The plan was to go to a place where we could eat outside, but the heat forced us to find a place we could sit inside.  The joke is, by the time we got there, a slight storm moved through and the temperatures dropped enough to make it comfortable. But by then, we had selected and had arrived.

We ended up going to Geraci's. A place that has good pizza and pretty good pasta dishes. The wait is long, but we hoped due to the heat and impending storm people wouldn't show up. No such luck. Our 20 minute wait was 40. Alcohol helped.  It usually does.

You might know the name, as they are the family of Sonny Geraci, who had the pop hits, "Time Won't Let Me" (with the Outsiders) and "Precious and Few" (with Climax).  ....and well, that's about it.

Still, Sonny grew up in the area and his family is still running this money laundering endeavor.

They only accept checks and cash. You just know this isn't all being reported to the IRS.

But the conversation was better than the food, and definitely better than the possibly drunk waitress. That makes a night out better than most things.

...and it was Petey's first evening alone at home. Well, Sophie was here, but I'm not sure they interacted. Petey was dead to the world when we got back.  I had to wake him to take him out for a late evening pee. He wanted to hunt, but it was dark and I was tired.

Well, it's bed time and I might have had a few beers.  I suppose I could have wrote this in the morning, but I was on a roll.  A boring one, but a roll nonetheless.


Song by: Crowded House

Record of the Month - Classic

Another installment of a disk I have enjoyed over the years. I'm trying to keep the Record of the Month posts to be fairly new releases. Classics are going to be ones that are at least 10 years old.

For 2011, I thought I'd focus on debut disks - just to make it more challenging for me. I don't think you'll care one way or the other.

I know I've been down the review road with other Marti Jones disks, but since this is debut album year, I figured I should at least cover her Unsophisticated Time recording.

I know I'm a bit biased, but I do find it to be her second best overall disk.

A bit rock, a bit pop, a bit folk and a bit alternative (well, for 1985, since there was no spandex, no electronics, no gimmicks). It's really Jones and her clear alto.

While there are a number of catchy songs ("(If I Could) Walk Away", "Show and Tell", "Talk to Me", "Lonely is as Lonely Does"), but not built for radio, let alone radio hits - not then and certainly not now.  The shame is, they are all likeable and singable sings, but since it was 1985, if you weren't Cyndi Lauper with a video in heavy rotation that included some WWF guys, you were dead in the radio waters.

Jones' soon to be husband, Don Dixon, produced the disk and wrote a lot of the music as well, but there are other writers who contributed.  And it's nicely balanced so not all of it is easy to sing stuff.

"The Element Within Her" is different for a pop singer.  Ditto with "Rhythm of Shallow Breathing".   It says more to Dixon's production and arrangement style than it probably does to Jones' talent.  Then there is the more pop-frantic "Neverland", which while not bad, probably is my least favourite song.

If there is a "hit" on here, it is "Fallow You All Over the World".  Without a doubt it is her most requested song at any concert she does and it's nice, but it isn't my most favourite of hers, even on this debut.  I am much more a fan of "Show and Tell", "Walk Away" and the "Element Within Her".

And when I say some songs are better than others, well that is true, but there really isn't a bad song on the album. Pushing 30 years later, I still play it often.

The one big problem - though not for me - is that it was never issued on CD. For a nanosecond efolkmusic offered it as a digital download, where I snagged it (though I still own the vinyl copy).  Dixon emailed me not that long ago asking if people would be interested in remastered versions of Jones' music on a flash drive. It's an interesting mode of delivery and her second, third and fourth disk are in dire need of remastering, but I don't know if it will actually happen. Or when.

Still, if you have a chance to sample or buy Unsophisticated Time, I don't think you'd be disappointed.

Walk the Dog & Light the Light

I will try not to make this a Petey blog, but I'm sure there will be a peak of posts as this is all just so new to me and 710.  You just have to assume there will be a peak of writing just because....well, just because.

Petey is good. We're ok. Sophie is a hissing mess.  I don't like her being upset.

He spends a lot of time outside on a line, only because we have no invisible fence.  I can't tell if he's happy with this or not.

Leash and walking are new to him. He's never needed that where he lived, so this a challenge, more for me than him. He pulls on the leash and he's not easily controlled - so we'll have to work on that.

And g-d forbid he sees a squirrel (and you have to say "squirrel" like Veruca Salt in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory).  OMG - he will try to climb up the tree, after pulling me there, and the squirrel is five trees over by that time, leaping branch to branch. Yet there he is, paws up the trunk and howling / baying.  There is no pulling him away, so yesterday, I had to pick him up and carry him 50 feet trying to distract him. That only worked 50% of the time.

One squirrel sighting had him pulling me back to the tree after that 50 foot distraction.

If we keep Petey - yes, nothing is set in stone yet, sorry folks - there has to be a different collar / leash situation. He's going to snap his neck or crush his windpipe the way he pulls against me. Though the thought of getting one of those harnesses on and off him to pull from the back seems cumbersome.

As mentioned, Sophie still has not even remotely adapted to him being here. I hate she hides when he's in the house. She might have the run of it when he's outside, but this isn't anyway to live. I want her to be around and now she's only around when we're at work.  We get zero Sophie-time except when she  paws at my face all night sleeps with me.

Since I haven't figured out Petey's schedule yet (how long he can hold peeing and pooping, when he eats, etc), I haven't worked out at all. I feel I can't leave him yet. I just need to slightly adjust things by a half-hour and a work-out should be fine where I can get home, feed him, walk him and then get to my office.

Don't start yet on when I travel what we'll do.  To mix my metaphors, I'll burn that bridge when I get to it.


Song by:  Laura Nyro

Hound Dog

Remember how I mentioned that we have talked about getting a dog, but you know, we weren't quite there.

Fate had other plans - as they always do.

You might remember me blogging pics of my sister's dogs, one of them a 15" beagle named Petey.  I love Petey.  I probably made that known too much to my sister.

She is having problems with having the dog. The poor guy had been taunted by neighbor kids who would throw rocks at him.  Being in an invisible fence didn't make it easy for him to get away. So lo and behold, after months (years?) of this (where the kid's parents took no action!), one of the kids came to retrieve something in my sister's yard. Petey went after him.

Rightfully so, I might add.  ....and I'll go on record, save for this, Petey is the nicest dog - unless you're a tradesman working at his house, then he'll just steal and eat your lunch.

Now the kid and his parents complained to my sister. As if!  (I hate most kids, btw.)

Fast forward a few years, my sister and family just moved to a new house with a much smaller yard. Though no one is throwing rocks at the dog, the behaviour is set and a kid cut through their yard and Petey went after him.

While the kid wasn't hurt (Petey had a hold of the bottom of his jeans) my sister didn't want a dog who went after kids coming into their yard.  Though if they come in via the driveway, there are no issues. It's just the back of the yard. Still I get their new neighbors had a 2 and 3 year old. That could be harrowing for everyone and just a potential accident waiting to happen.

For whatever reasons, their options were to see if we'd take him or put him down. Don't ask me why no rescue organization was not a choice. Maybe it's because he's 10 years old?  I don't know - I didn't really ask.  Well, I did, I just got no answer.

Well c'mon!  That's a lot of pressure on 710 and myself.  It's like Sophie's Choice, but not our cat, Sophie. While I love Petey, we felt boxed in to taking him.

We've had him for a little over 24 hours.  So far so good.

He's crate trained and loves his crate so that's not an issue. So far feeding him and leaving him on a tethered run outside hasn't been a problem either. He's gone on walks where he must smell and pee on everything - and picking up poop wasn't nearly as disgusting as I imagined.

Petey doesn't care about cats so Sophie isn't an issue to him.  Sophie does care about dogs, so he is an issue to her. Her tail is puffy, the hair on her back stands up. So far no hissing, but she's gotten no closer than six feet - and he was in his pen.

To be fair, she's never experienced a dog up this close. She might have gone checked him out in the middle of the night, but doubtful. She attached herself to me in bed the first night and she was hot. But I had to let her do it to remind her I loved her very much and would protect her. 


I should say, we are taking Petey on a trial basis. We will keep him for 5-7 days to see how things go. Sophie is and always will be my main priority - if she can't adapt, we can't adapt and it wont' work.


And adapting is hard....for all of us, Petey included.  He now has no brother, or the home and family he's known. Admittedly, we are a little selfish in the way we live and we could do what we want, when we want and without any planning. That has changed. 


Of course, part of us feels like he's our dog or ever will be. He's my sister and brother-in-law's dog and we're just keeping him. 


Maybe it's a way to break us into dog-hood, but that remains to be seen.  


Of course, it's only been 38 hours. 




Song by:  Elvis Presley

The Memory of Trees

On our way back from MD, we went about 17 miles "out of the way" and headed to Shanksville, PA to stop at the Flight 93 National Memorial.

....the red-headed stepchild of the 9/11 memorials. Unfortunate, but true.

Not in a metropolitan area and woefully underfunded, it doesn't receive the spotlight that the Pentagon or the World Trade Center memorial sites garnish. And that's a shame.

With truly little around it, one has to make the extra effort to visit. This is my third time past the area and finally we carved out the time to drive there. I'm glad we did.

While there is nothing special or glamorous about this memorial, it is simple and serene. The plane went down in a field and that is really all you get - or mostly.

After the investigation identified remains of all on board (not retrieved) and got what they needed from the debris, the impact site was filled in and the field looks like it did before September 11th.

Yes, there is some information and a "wall", but currently that is all that exists.

As you walk to the panel walls, you go down a path of black stone. I asked a park ranger, why some black panels had diagonal lines (see lower left portion of above photo) through them. It was told to me that they represented the branches of hickory trees. And a gate we would soon see was made out wood of a hickory tree. 

The black walkway ends into 40 white marble panels - one for each passenger and crew member.  The direction of the wall follows the flight path of Flight 93. The wall ends at the hickory gate.

I"m not a fan of the gate as it is. You can only see through slats, which means four or so people can be at the gate at one time and others back-up behind you and on a crowded day you'd struggle to get out for others to get in.  You also get a very limited view. It is not an optimal design.

The boulder you see though the gate in the image through the slats and in the one above of me standing on a bench, is the actual impact site. Save the boulder, the field has returned to what it once was.

As this is a gay-ish blog, and for the fact that I knew none of the names other than Todd Beamer ("let's roll"), I took a picture of Mark Bingham's panel.  While he wasn't the only passenger not to have a token placed at his panel, I thought someone should remember him - and I'm doing so here. 

But lest you think that all is sacred at or near this memorial - think again. As you approach the entrance, you get to pass by this...........

Always fun to tie 9/11 to abortion. Jesus and the 3-D plane coming out of the billboard is a nice touch. I don't think Fred Phelps has anything to do with this, mostly because he can't afford it, but it's still odd at best. 

One or two other cars pulled over to see it and take a pic.  710 said, "what are the chances anyone is taking the pic with a sense of irony?"   My guess?  0.  Besides me. 

Song by: Enya

My Music Monday

I think one of the reasons I have not yet featured Crowded House in a My Music Monday segment is that it was (and is) too difficult to pick just one selection.

Their first four disks are, while not completely flawless, rank up there with some of the best in consistency in playing, production and writing.

Neil Finn, arguably, has been a great songwriter since his time in Split Enz back in the late '70s.  That group included his brother (who would sit in on the third Crowded House disk Woodface) and eventually Paul Hester, who would be Crowded House's drummer until his suicide years after the release of Together Alone, where I pulled today's selection, "Private Universe".

I'll go slightly out on a limb here and assume many who read my blog are aware of three Crowded House songs - "Don't Dream it's Over", "Something So Strong" and "Better Be Home Soon".

Those barely scratch the surface of Finn's brilliance in writing (though I'm quite tired of "Don't Dream it''s Over".

I don't know why, but at the end of the movie, The Sum of Us, in the pull away shot of Sydney, I kind of tear-up when "Better Be Home" starts.

While I can't claim Hester was the ultimate drummer, the group never recouped after his death. A reformed version released two disks since, the first is decent, the second is not. Still with their first four disks, you care barely go wrong.

Yeah, it was hard to pick one song, but that's all you get. Lot of them are out on YouTube, so go explore.  Have fun.

Appalachian Spring

Ok, technically it's not spring, but there are so few songs I own that have "Cumberland", "In-Laws" or "Appalachia" in them.  ...and by so few, I mean one.

710 and I are in Maryland visiting his parents. He thinks I'm a good son-in-law because I go and see his folks 2-3 times a year.

The man has the son-in-law title all sewn up as he has to deal with mine 2-3 per month!

While this trip was mostly work - taking care of some estate and housing things for his aunt -  it still kind of felt like a get away.

We were tarred (that is Appalachian for "tired") from a long and hot day of working, as it was just the two of us. But there was a huge sense of accomplishment as well. I hope his folks feel the same way, but it's really not about the recognition....or shouldn't be.

I got to walk around the town while 710 was attending to other chores.  It is a charming town, or can be. Some of the scenery can be great, but from downtown, you don't get a sense of the mountains as much. And who doesn't like a quaint train station?

Of course, there was a dinner with the in-laws as well.  It was a nice meal.

And I love how doting they are on each other and how they walk together, like 710 and I do....I mean, if 710 wasn't 40 feet in front of his parents, and 55 feet in front of me. But I found them so cute, I couldn't help but snap a picture of them.

I can see ourselves like this - if I ever live that long.


Song by:  Aaron Copland

The Cave

You can't say you weren't warned.  Nothing big happened yesterday - that I know of.

Sure Jerry Sandusky is headed somewhere where buttfucking in the shower is not only not looked down upon, but is actually a requirement. In a way, he should be a happy man.

But that really has nothing to do with me, so what's the point of going on about it.

So instead, you get the dentist - just as I foretold. I'm like a Medium. Certainly I'm not rare nor am I well done.

The appointment went well. As you can see, it was xray time, which can always be iffy. It's a chance when they find problems and let's face it, I'm not a kid anymore, so these chompers won't last forever.

Still, there was no cracked fillings, no cavities, no decay. And I got a free toothbrush to add to  the dozen and a half I already possess.

I know most people who are about to go to the dentist obsess about brushing their teeth et al before heading to their appointment. I care, but I don't care.  I'm paying them to clean them better than I ever could, one more brushing session isn't going to undo a potential of six months of neglect.

Myself?  I have different priorities for the dentist visits. You lean back in that chair for 20-40 minutes, and sure they're working on your mouth, but they can see up your schnoz.

My #1 goal is to make sure there are no bats in the cave, not if there is something between my incisor and molar. They'll pick that out............they won't pick my nose.

Yeah - these posts have to get better.



Song by: Mumford & Sons

I (Who Have Nothing)

Maybe it's the heat.  Maybe it's the spotlight of the Sandusky trial. Of course, it might be the trauma of writing about the stealth vagina.

That can take it out of anyone.

But really I have nothing to write about. At least of interest. As I've said before, it can be argued I never have, but at least you've amused me over the years.

Today is filled with mundane things such as doing stuff like work, so they pay me. I also have my semi-annual teeth cleaning and then it is off to visit the in-laws.

Maybe 3.5 years of a post-a-day is getting to me - they can't all be winners. Or possibly any of them. But then I fear that slippery slope and before you know it I haven't written a thing in three months like a certain blogger I know but I won't name. He knows who he is. ....and I know who he is.

If I have nothing tomorrow, you might just get pictures of me at the dentist. You better hope for something big in the news to come along.


Song by: Shirley Bassey

Site of the Month

I guess technically this could be a Shopping with Blobby segment, but a.) I've already done that this month and b.) who the hell would buy this?  c.) sorry for the following image.

Sorry for the shocker of a picture, but that's just the way the Stockroom site presented it.  

I am not the one to tell if you if it is "life like", but I hope to g-d it isn't.  I suppose it could be after I dunno, 3 kids and a double shift at Big Jim's Boobie Bungalow. 

Honestly, I don't know who sent me the link in the first place, but I naturally sent it to my cousin with the email subject:  "Why I'm Gay".   David was just amazed there wasn't a Brazilian option. However you can get enough different colours that your carpet will match the drapes.

I do like how it is called 'stealth'. It seems to be right. out. there.!  I'm assuming that is the string that is stealth and not the va-jay-yay. 

The description is GREAT:  It allows a man to have a vagina whenever he chooses to tie it on. 

When would that be????  I don't even think those "guys" on RuPaul have a strap on vagina.  Let me clarify:  I don't think they do!  Drag queens are like clowns - they scare me. 

But so do vaginas - stealth or not. 

I was too afraid to see what else the Stockroom....well.....stocked.  This was more than enough.  Way more. 

Summer Moved On

Today is the Summer Solstice.

If I had the opportunity, or time, the gym is doing a Solstice yoga session underneath the big wind turbine.

We don't have a rock formation created by the Druids, so you have to work with what you've got.

And I will be at work, so no posing to the sun g-d to me.  That is unfortunate, as I've never done a yoga class outside. For whatever reason, that interests me.

I will be spending time in the office with sweltering 90+ degree heat.  It's not pleasant but it's not 30, so I'm not really complaining.

...and just so I can complete the transition of me turning me into my father......while today is the longest day of sunlight, the days just start getting shorter after this.

Suck on that.



Song by:  a-ha