Where The Heck Have I Been?
It's been so long since I posted, I was feeling GUILTY...

Actually, I've been here all the time. I haven't gone anywhere, unless I went somewhere in my dreams, although I hardly ever dream (that I know of) and when I DO remember my dreams, they're usually lacking both clarity and any sense of logic. Such is my life...purple haze...runnin' thru my brain...

They Say You Can See For Over Twenty Miles: I spent the afternoon at Bastendorff Beach, about 6 miles south of Coos Bay, and what was I doing, you ask? I really didn't go down to the beach; instead, I pulled into the parking lot of the campground above the beach. When parked up there, about 100 feet above the ocean, you can see waaay, waaay out...on a clear day, that is. Today, clouds moved in towards afternoon, but still, the view was great, as always. One of my favorite things to do is use my handy-dandy pair of cheap binoculars and try to see ships that are waay out there. Today, I spotted an irregularly-sized "hump" shaped craft which was probably 20 miles out when I first saw it. I watched it off and on until the clouds moved in...and it disappeared! Where did it go? It had to be something big, 'cos out there on the horizon, it could be seen with the naked eye...

Evidently that "hump" kept moving towards the coast, because when the clouds lifted 45 minutes later, it was still out there, but was a heck of a lot closer. And as it moved closer towards the entrance of the bay inlet, the "hump" image I'd originally seen began to clarify itself...a good-sized tugboat was towing a huge barge full of logs that came from, well, who knows...(ironic, since all the mills around here shut down long ago)...and when I say "large barge", I mean "large" since it was probably the length of a football field, and probably weighed TONS. Evidently it takes a lot of talent to bring that load across the 'bar' (the inlet which leads from the shoreline into the bay); having researched the history around here, I've found quite a lot of ships have wrecked on the bar over the years, due usually to ferocious winter storms.



The above photo is an approximation of what I saw today. (I'm too cheap to buy my own camera...) Here, a tugboat tows a huge (and empty) wood-chip barge, and the vessels here are approaching the "bar", leading to the bay. You can see the South "jetty" (rock wall); in between that and the North "jetty", is the entrance to the bay. The barge is filled with wood chips at a processing plant on the bay, and then is towed back out to sea and transported to wherever wood chips are shipped to. I've heard that Japan is actually a quite large wood-chip market...the wood chips are used to make all kinds of prefabricated things, probably. The log barge I saw today was about the size of the vessel being towed here. (You can tell I'm not all that acquainted with the industry, but I sure love the ocean, and it's so fascinating to live here after being landlocked in North Idaho for so many years.)

The New Carissa, a tanker that ran aground in a storm back in the 1990's, actually Split In Half when the Powers That Be tried to tow it back out to sea. The imposing rusted hull is stuck to this day on the beach north of the bar. The EPA or whoever wants to tow the hull off the bar this year...but a lot of the locals have said the hull's been on the beach so long that it's become part of the folklore, and that it should just be left where it is. Still, it's gonna get towed this spring sometime. Unless something goes wrong. (Again!) The removal of this hull, which isn't really hurting anything by being on the beach, will be just another case of Your Tax Dollars At Work. It oughta cost gazillions to remove.
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The First Cut Is The Deepest: I had my splinter-removal finger surgery on April 17th. Between then and last night, I hadn't had the courage to even LOOK at my finger, but I figured, "well, maybe I should let it get some air", plus, the original bandage was beginning to fall apart. Turns out I have a V-shaped incision that's close to two inches long on the "thumb" side of the finger. Yeah, it's kinda gross-looking and tender...but looking on the bright side, at least they operated on the correct digit (the nurse actually drew arrows on that finger with a pen) and when I woke up from the anesthetic, Nothing Had Been Amputated. So there went my chances for a lucrative malpractice suit, 'cos the doctors did everything RIGHT. Actually, for a smaller area, the medical community down here is quite good. I should know; I've seen more doctors in the last year here, than I've seen anywhere else at Any Point In My Life. Guess I must be getting old and falling apart. The stitches should be taken out at my April 30th appointment. Hopefully my finger won't fall off. Or I might just have to generate that malpractice suit after all.

Brain-Teaser: What famous singer-songwriter WROTE the song, "First Cut Is The Deepest"? You'll find out in the italicized portion at the end of this post. Assuming, of course, that this post actually HAS an end...
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Take Me Out To The Ball Game: (Wait, don't.) It's the same old story with the Seattle Mariners so far this year. Hitters who should be hitting aren't hitting (how's that for repetition), and when the starting pitching's good, the relievers fall apart, either that or the M's end up playing come-from-behind baseball due to a starter falling apart., and as all the baseball Gods know, when yer team is down early, they'll Lose more than they'll Win. And last night, when they WON, closer J.J. Putz couldn't find the strike zone, although he eventually did, but he gave up 2 runs in the 9th, and things got pretty scary. Today, Kid Felix was on the mound and he did GREAT through 7 innings. Trouble was, he couldn't find the plate in the 8th, and when he did, he got hit hard. And so the M's found yet another innovative way to lose. It's gonna be a long season.

For the second year in a row, M's sportscaster Rick Rizzs is NOT on the TV side of things at all. I wonder why. He's not the ugliest person that's ever walked the face of the earth. I've long complained about Rizzs, but I'd rather hear him than the new M's TV announcers. For some reason, broadcast veteran Dave Niehaus (super-cool guy) broadcasts the early part of the games on TV, then joins Mr. Rizzs on the radio side. Niehaus' way of calling a game is endlessly fascinating. I think he's a real treasure. Anyway, I find myself, more and more, watching the M's telecasts with the sound off, and listening to the radio instead. Plus, the post-game shows are funny...fans and analysts alike spend an hour griping and whining about all the M's woes. Guess I don't need to watch "Days Of Our Lives" when I can watch/hear the Mariners instead.
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It's a BOY! (Do I need to pass out cigars here?) Up front, Kids, Almost All Of Them, drive me absolutely NUTS. CRAZY. BONKERS. Or whatever other descriptive you wanna use. I honestly don't know how Parents can keep up with them, if they can at all. But I'm celebrating a New Arrival soon. And I've gotta drive up all the way to Portland to get him. I must be NUTS. CRAZY. BONKERS. Only, this little boy is a PARROT...a fairly-unknown breed called the PIONUS (say "pie-OH-nuss"), known for their subtle and stable ways. They're not great talkers, but they don't scream their heads off, either, so that's good. Which is why kids drive me, well, you know...because of all the constant hubbub and noise they generate. I honestly can't take it. I'm sure the neighborhood kids around here think I'm an old fuddy-duddy grouch. Harrumph. Anyway, back to the Parrot...he's been raised by a breeder in the midwest. I've got a big cage and a whole lot of bird-toys waiting for him, so he can be a goofy little parrot and play to his hearts' content. Below, you'll find a picture of him...how could you say 'no' to a face like this?

Meet "Ringo", the bronze-winged Pionus parrot. The bird-breeder lady says this is a good name for him, since in some circles, the name "Ringo" is synonymous with the term, "Big Beak".

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NOT THAT THIS HAS ANYTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING: I found a political cartoon on the web recently, so I thot I'd post it here...what, did you think I was gonna author a post that didn't somehow malign the present Prezzidential administration?

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And finally...you might remember that "First Cut Is The Deepest" was a fairly big hit for Rod Stewart, back in the late '70s...I think it's a really great song. But I was surprised, when I first got that record, that it was written by CAT STEVENS, who doesn't write many songs these days, since, as Yusef Islam, has been some sort of Zealot Monk for the last decade and a half.

Post-Pennsylvania-Partum...
...and y'know, it's kinda depressing...

She says she's ready to lead. Trouble is, except for being on a congressional committee here and there, she hasn't led a Girl Scout Troop, much less anything more important. Hillary Clinton blazed thru her victory speech tonite after winning the Pennsylvania Primary, and my first thought was, "how have we come to this?" She started out, for all practical purposes, as a governor's wife in Arkansas. Then she was First Lady. Then, ever the opportunist, she ran for the New York Senate. Ever-close to the Washington, D.C. power base, with a highly recognizable last name, and at long last, capitalizing upon her Pennsylvania roots, here she stands, poised for...something...

Tonight she KNOCKED Senator Obama for outspending her by a margin of three-to-one in the Pennsylvania Primary...remember, this came from the mouth of a woman who has MORE MONEY in her personal bank account than the total of the gross national products of several small nations. She's ready to lead? That's what she says. What...has she ever LED? It seems to me that, more than anything, she's been in the right place at the right time. I believe her decision to run for the New York Senate was just as much (if not more) a gesture of Political Opportunism as it was of any genuine care and concern for constituents out there. A Senate Seat in New York came up for grabs. "Oh Boy", she gushes to Bill one morning over coffee, "Let's be NEW YORKERS! We'll still be close to Washington, D.C." "Okay," he said. And so it came to pass.

Maybe having the most scandalous-ever Prezzident as her hubby didn't do any favors, but from day one, the name recognition set her apart. Good or bad, her image sticks in the minds of voters the way a tumor wraps itself around a vital organ. It's hard to shake. And impossible to remove. I don't see Hillary as a candidate that unites. Of course, what with reckless promises of "Change", I'm not sure Barack Obama would be able to accomplish all that much, either. Whenever someone young, fresh and eager arrives on the scene, there are always the Powers That Be who will strive to beat him down, no matter how altruistic he may be. Could it be I have no hope for either of the Democratic Prezzidential candidates? If it turns out I have NO hope for any of them, that will still be MORE than I have for the current Repubblican front-runner. And believe me, ol' McCain is just sittin' back watchin' all this and developing strategy. Him and his advisors.

I'll end this posting with a little photo satire, and believe you me, 'tain't a pretty picture...

The photo used in this satire was stolen from www.spokesmanreview.com/blogs/hbo. They're used to it by now.

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Most of the Talking Heads figure that Hillary's in this thing to stay. No curtsies, no graceful bows, no concessions...just plenty of pins for her little Obama Voodoo doll...

For all those who go around saying,
"Don't be bitter...Reconsider!!!"

A friend of mine in high school actually used to USE that stupid saying, and every time I heard him say that, I wanted to hit him. I'm not one of these smiley-faced people who sees everything with an Eternally Optimistic Outlook...as this post is gonna more-than-effectively demonstrate...

This whole flap over Prezzidential Candidate Barack Obama's using the word "Bitter" to describe a substantial segment of Americans has created one of the biggest issues (or non-issues, depending on how you look at it), that I've ever seen. It's almost as if it was "a slow news week" recently, and the media hopped all over this "Bitter" thing. Obama himself says he mis-spoke, but did he really? I don't think so. I think people in this country are bitter. Or, at least, realistic. And sometimes the boundary between the two tends to evaporate. Meantime, Mr. Obama's been doing some fancy back-pedaling away from that 'bitter' remark lately, and I'm a little disappointed in him.

I am, if a politically ideology is to be applied here, a MODERATE. In short, I don't fully trust any one party, any one rhetoric, any one news source, any one politician. I am 54, white, fairly liberal about some things, fairly intolerant of some other things. I have no criminal record, grew up in a conservative western state, now live in a somewhat less-conservative state, in a small town, was a part of the work force from age 16 until age 50, and while I don't love everything about my country, America is still As Good As It Gets. But, yeah, I could get bitter about stuff. There's plenty to be bitter about. So maybe when Mr. Obama used the word "Bitter", he coulda been aiming his comments straight at me as well as multitudinous others in my social strata.

"Bitterness" is a weird condition; most of the time, people who feel that way pretty much have to shove that feeling back into their psyches, because after all, it's difficult to co-exist with your fellow humans if your bitterness manifests itself all of the time. But I'm sure that at times, EVERYONE is bitter about something. I try not to let myself get "down" too much; one of my strong points is an ability to adapt, and to try and make the best of things. If I think too long about things that REALLY IRRITATE me, I'll become, well, really irritated! Which means that if I decided to "tear along the dotted line" and peer inside, I'm sure I could find PLENTY of stuff to be bitter about...for instance...

*THIS WASTEFUL WAR: The zillions of dollars we've WASTED in the Iraq war. And continue to waste. Along with the lives of our troops who continue to DIE over there.
*PRESIDENTIAL INEPTITUDE: Our President's arrogant attitude toward those who decry the war, his total disregard for the American People in this matter, and his unwillingness to listen to other points of view.
*THIS FUTILE WAR: Fighting the War in Iraq in order to preserve that country's borders, while at the same time, NOT BEING ABLE TO SECURE OUR OWN BORDERS.
*BANG BANG: The needless deaths in our country caused by TOO MANY HANDGUNS in the hands of the WRONG people, while the NRA cries, "GUN RIGHTS! GUN RIGHTS!"
*SELL MY SOUL FOR A TANKFUL: Skyrocketing gasoline prices, which result in raising the prices of Everything Else; but I suppose that means the nation's infrastructure will last a while longer when No One Can Afford To Drive At All...say, isn't that Wasteful War we're in being fought in an area that PRODUCES oil? Of Course, oil interests have nothing to do with us fighting that war over there. Rrrrrright...
*ETERNAL REVENUE SERVICE: The continual rejection by Congress of the FLAT TAX which is the ONLY way paying taxes can be made totally fair for every citizen in this country, rich or poor.
*HARD LABOR: The by-now fashionable practice of outsourcing labor to myriad foreign countries which results in American workers losing their good-paying jobs...
*"ROLLING BACK" PRICES: Chain-stores like Wal-Mart who portray themselves as good citizens who, all the while, support the concept of "Outsourcing" so that they can undersell everyone else...and who feast on laid-off American workers by hiring them at a small fraction of what they used to earn.
*DON'T THEY TAKE AN OATH? And then there's the Politicians themselves; more often than not, self-serving demagogues who spend their time deluging the political electorate with negative, he-said-she-said campaigning, and then once in office, proceeding to immerse themselves in scandal, shady practices, pork-barrel projects, filibustering, sexual deviations, graft, corruption; seems like almost every month, a different politician's in trouble for something...and all the while, I and perhaps many others ask, "aren't these guys supposed to be SMARTER than that?"
*TAKE TWO AND CALL ME IN THE MORNING: I once saw a little old lady just ahead of me at the pharmacy counter, who bought $600 dollars worth of Prescriptions for the coming month...I'm sure that dollar amount ate into what little funds she may have had left over for food. Absolutely shameful. People having to choose between drugs to keep them alive and food that keeps them alive. Whaddaya do if yer in her shoes?

Down here on the Oregon Coast, Salmon Fishermen are wondering how they're gonna make a living, now that the Government has basically STOPPED Salmon Fishing for the rest of the year. Potential re-possession of fishing boats, fishermen in financial ruin...the mills down here died years ago, and the economy suffered as people migrated elsewhere, in search of some way, ANY way, to make a living. Where I live, a county-operated mental health clinic was closed last year, and due to falling tax rolls (due to layoffs), school districts here are having to cut back expenses. Meanwhile, the Pawn Shops are doing a brisk business.

Back up in North Idaho, where I lived for a lotta years, the mines and mills have pretty much gone kaput, while Millionaires buy former mill land and use it for overpriced golf courses & various other things that cater to rich outsiders who couldn't care less about the history of that area...and if you're still not bitter, well, all you need do is pick up your local newspaper (published more often than not by a downsized staff) and you'll read about layoffs all over the place, rising prices, rising crime rates, more and more senseless shootings, more and more meth and crack-addled lowlifes stealing, shooting, and taking life from innocent people, and on and on and on, and it just doesn't stop...

So, yeah, I think there's BITTERNESS out there, all right, and I'm a little disappointed that Mr. Obama has since danced around this issue, saying he mis-spoke...NO, HE DIDN'T, and when he originally SAID that, I think he was trying to ram home a very important point, which is, that there's lots of disgruntled voters out there who are basically SICK and TIRED of the status quo, which is my sentiment exactly. But, I've also come to think that no matter who's in charge, this stuff is just gonna keep on happening, regardless of WHO is in office. And if those Bitter people cling to church, family, or anything else they hold dear, it's only NATURAL...because in this world, if you don't cling to something, yer gonna LOSE YER MIND.
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I'm sure I'll catch a lot of flak for this post, but it's something I've been thinking about for a while now, and seeing tonight's coverage of The Prezzidential Candidates as they get ready to do battle in the Pennsylvania Primary sorta just crystallized everything. It could be a bitter battle...

I Gave My Doctor The FINGER...
...and then, he went and OPERATED on it...

Blog update: I'm always amazed by the number of readers who respond to a particular post, especially if it's a post I thot no one would pay any attention to. Then again, haven't we ALL wanted to give the Medical Community 'The Finger' sometimes?

SPLINTERS, one of Nature's annoying little inconveniences, have certainly been the downfall of me here. I underwent a finger-ectomy (or, would that be a digit-otomy?) today...,and I lived to tell about it. Well, you've heard the old saying, "cut off the nose to spite the face"; well, my right hand has now been made virtually unusable because my right index finger was operated on. Normally, I type 75 words a minute, so you'd think my typing speed would be cut in half...but, it feels like every SENTENCE is taking a full minute to type here. X-rays recently showed a splinter embedded deeply within my connective tissue, and, the doctor had ta go in and git it.

Earlier this week, I had my pre-op consultation, which is the medical community's way of saying, "we want to inform you of any number of a gazillion things that can go wrong during a finger-ectomy (or digit-otomy), and you need to sign a copy of the document we've just read to you, outlining every potential mishap which could occur during your finger-ectomy (or digit-otomy), so that if your hand should fall off, or you should DIE during the operation, you can't sue us and/or take away our country-club memberships..." With that, they've got ya where they want ya, 'cos, if U don't sign, they don't operate. And your hand falls off in several years anyway, due to infection from not having the finger-ectomy (or digit-otomy).

And, with the benefit of hindsight, this all makes sense in a twisted sort of way; I had to pay the deductible for this operation in advance...I guess they were thinkin' I might actually die during my finger-otomy (or digit-ectomy), and if I was dead, well, I couldn't pay for the operation. I am so proud to know I'm doing my share to support the Medical Community. Gotta help pay for doctors' golf clubs and malpractice insurance, y'know. Unlike the late actor-turned gun-wacko Charlton Heston, I do not have "cold, dead hands"; rather, I have one hand that is basically a useless glob of flesh and bone, dangling from my right wrist. And, I have to keep that hand imprisoned inside a mammoth ace bandage that (allegedly) includes a splint that encases my "fickle finger". There must be 50 yards of Ace Bandage encasing my right hand...I honestly can't tell if a splint is under all that or not. So I've now got one good hand 'till April 30th, when hopefully they'll take this DAMN THING OFFA ME!
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Yep, that's all you get, 3 little paragraphs...and you're lucky to get that much...since, until my right hand is fully restored to me, I'll be typing roughly 17 words a minute. I'm not kidding; right now, I can WRITE faster than I can type!

Strictly COMMERCIAL...
...or, sound bytes that you love to hate...

Some TV commercials make ya just wanna throw your TV out the nearest third-story window, because they're either irritating, or they're shown 187 times in any given evening, or in some cases both...(The Political Ad bombardment in Primary states comes to mind, although I'm sure we'll all be subjected to that particular ad-deluge come fall).

I do believe that 'mute' buttons around the country get a workout when an especially irritating commercial moment presents itself; if I see, for example, the bearded Billy Mays advertising another STUPID PRODUCT I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT, in that high, whiny paint-peeling voice of his, I'm ready to switch over to PBS and watch the world's dullest-ever interviewer, Charlie Rose, and never change the channel again! (PBS may be dull, but at least I've never seen Billy Mays on it.) Maybe Charlie Rose should sell stupid products and Billy May could interview people. That would be interesting to see...

I can't get enough of the Geico Gecko...he's a cute, unassuming little guy, who, if the commercial is to believed, has an inordinate amount of trouble trying to get a drink from a fountain in the park. He speaks in a clipped English accent, and reportedly saves people a lot of dough on their car insurance. I know that the life of an advertising Icon such as the Gecko can be tragically brief; (the Taco Bell chihuahua, for eenstance...) however, our Little Green Geico Friend has stuck around the airwaves for a couple of years now, and Geico seems to be constantly coming up with new ways to insert him in their sales pitches. Me, I'd kinda like to see the Geico Gecko take on Hulk Hogan...now, THAT would be unforgettable.

There is another one of nature's creatures who is being depicted on a series of commercials; I don't hate him yet, but he's getting to be a bit irritating after all this time...he turns up in Barbershops, on Nascar tracks, on Front Porches, in Accountants' offices and elsewhere...well, here's a Commercial Adaptation of this Advertising Icon you haven't seen yet...

www.spokesmanreview.com/blogs/hbo couldn't duck my efforts to malign another of their photos.

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So why did the Taco-Bell chihuahua disappear into advertising oblivion? Probably too many jokes going around about "dog-meat tacos"...

It's 3AM...time for some more
EXHAUSTING POLITICS...

Bill Clinton is a force to be reckoned with. Especially for Hillary...you remember back a while ago, when she said, "when the phone rings at 3am, you need a Prezzident who's READY..." I guess ol' Bill was trying to rationalize his wife's mis-statement of landing in Bosnia amidst sniper fire and all sorts of other mean, nasty, ugly things. Of course, she saw Not One Bullet that day, so she "mis-spoke". Because she "mis-remembered".

Now, that whole Hillary-Bosnia thing was beginning to die off when ol' Bill brought it up again...saying how she mis-spoke because she was exhausted, which caused her to mis-speak. And now there's a feeding frenzy in the media 'cos, if she's exhausted, what'll she do when she gets called at 3am? Will her judgment be "off" 'cos she's wiped out? And if that's not bad enough, Bill said something to the effect of, "when you get to be 60, sometimes you forget things". So, in the world according to Bill Clinton, not only does his wife get exhausted, she's also getting old and forgetful. I not only think Bill Clinton is off his rocker these days; he's also fast becoming a foolish cariacature of himself. Hillary probably thinks that too.

I think, in order to keep up with things, Barack Obama needs to get out there and Make Some Stupid Mistakes Of His Own...because, it sure looks like Hillary's getting a lot of coverage 'cause she takes history and re-writes it, and then has a former-Prezzident-hubby making all kinds of excuses for her. Face it, the more you get your name out there, the more people become aware of you. So, Barack, how about it? You could come out and say, for instance, that We Need To Keep Fighting In Iraq 'cos War Is Good For The Economy. Or, you could say that John McCain is basically a white-headed George Dubya-Bush clone. Or, that Hillary's cut her hair shorter 'cos she is, in fact, going for the Granny Vote. Come on, Mr. Obama...you can screw up; I've got faith in ya.

Meanwhile, Vice-Prezzident Dick Cheney (who looks like Grandpa from "The Munsters" (well, sorta...), is in the spotlight, 'cos he was photographed with a funny reflection in his Sun-rays...Nora O'Donnell on MSNBC said today that some have said it looks like a "NEKKID" woman...and it sort-of does...it seems to have a navel, in fact. You can tell I've spent quite a bit of time studying this. Either I'm Now Officially A Dirty Old Man or Cheney is...or maybe we both are...


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Actually, I'm taking a big chance in posting the above photo, 'cos I'm assuming that the Vice Prezzident Actually Has A Heart...

Out Standing In My Field?
...well, okay, I can do that if the view is interesting...

Warning: This post is gonna wander all over the place...so take your dramamine before reading. And now, the text of this regularly scheduled blog, already in progress...

Amazing, how the mind can go from one image to another at the slightest provocation. Actually, tho, when my mind wanders like that, I actually realize I'm operating normally...or, at least, normally for me. Basically this posts consists of one photo, which conjured up a mental image, which in turn, conjured up another one, and that's what inspired my inclusion of the other two photos here. So, intelligence be damned, I'm gonna post this post, anyway. For, it's truly the result of some inspiration from a higher power. Or not. You be the judge...

A long time ago, early one morning when I was driving Taxi, I had to head north of town, to pick up someone at a rural address and haul them back into town. That's the setting. Now, I know next to nothing about farming, but I remember using those old rectangular bales of hay as the backing for archery targets, back when I used to shoot in an indoor archery league, some 30-odd years ago. (I told you this post was gonna wander...) Anyway, as my cab passed a hay field one early morning when the sun was just rising and the sky was a deep blue, with a little bit of mist along the ground here and there, I came upon an image something like this...



This was back about 9 or 10 years ago, and I had never seen Round Hay Bales before. And there they were, unto themselves, stretching off in the distance, and the first thot that came to mind is, "this looks kinda like a Pink Floyd Album Cover..." I was thinking about the stark images on that group's album covers, from the old stone factory warehouse on the cover of their "Animals" (1977) album, to the depiction of hundreds of hospital beds stretching into the distance along an ocean beach on the group's "Momentary Lapse Of Reason" (1987) album cover...



There is something stark and lonely, yet dignified and orderly, almost to the point of impersonalization, in an image like this. And that's how I felt about seeing those rows and rows of round hay bales, stretching off into the desolate distance. And that's how I feel about this album cover. (I read somewhere that the beds were all set up, and it began to rain...so the beds were all removed, and then reinstalled another day on the beach for the cover shoot.) Uh-oh, I'm wandering again...

Several years afterward (in '02), as I was heading down a highway near the Tri-Cities area in Washington State, all of a sudden I saw another view that struck me in the same way... a long row of strange objects strung along the ridge of a long, bare hilltop on a hot, scorching summer day; there they were...all clustered out there, in the sun's intense heat, just sitting there, and I'd never seen such a thing before. I found the view oddly compelling in a sort of forlorn, desolate way. Standing there, year after year, paying no attention to the elements, just mindlessly ekeing out the ages in some sort of endless quest...and this would've made a terrific Pink Floyd album cover, too...



This was the first time I'd ever seen a Wind Farm, only I didn't know that's what it WAS until about half-a-year later when I saw some TV program dealing with ecological issues. There they are, these monolithic windmills, reaching skyward and rotating silently as the whistling and gusting winds whirl through their constantly rotating blades. Well, rotating as long as the wind blows, that is. They oughta put these on the coast. It's ALWAYS windy here!

My inclusion of the above windmill photo came about due to something I saw in this next picture...the rows of "random symmetry", if you will, again appealed to me, and actually sparked off the idea for this rather strange post. The mind works in mysterious ways, for sure, but I look at it this way; I'm 53, so I'm glad my mind is functioning AT ALL. Using that twisted logic, perhaps one could think of this next image as a sort of miniature wind farm?


The amount of artistic license I've taken with this www.spokesmanreview.com/blogs/hbo foto is almost illegal.
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Call it foolish, call it whimsical, call it dumb, call it whatever you want...but this, I feel, is one of my more inspired posts...and if nothing else, it sure was a lot of fun to write. And that's what this world needs. More Fun.

Pushing...pulling...pushing...pulling...
It's a (Political) TUG OF WAR...

Some folks are saying that Hillary's campaign for Lady Prezzident has lost a couple of wheels along the way; she and her chief campaign strategist parted ways (she booted him out), and also she's trying to appeal to the blue-collar crowd in spite of the fact it's just been revealed that her and hubby have made almost $110 MILLION DOLLARS since Bill's been Chief Executive. A cool 50 million of that has come from Slick Willie's speeches he's given around the country to whatever private group wants to hear him. He's probably spoken at various Democratic Party functions over the years...

The following scene is a vignette featuring a couple attending a Democratic Party fundraising dinner at which Bill Clinton gave one of his speeches-for-hire:

SHE: "You're being such a pig! Mind your manners!"
HE: "I'm paying $1,000 for this dinner, so if I want to, I'll LICK MY PLATE!"

But back to the subject at hand: Hillary's just gotta be thinking to herself, "Here I am, running for Prezzident, and just when I get going, that's when Barack Obama comes out of nowhere!" She's not getting the universal adoration from her own party that she's fantasized about getting for so, so long. So far, Mr. Obama has done quite well against her. But she says she's in this thing to stay. And this Democratic Prezzidential campaign oughta be verrry interestink...and as Paul McCartney once sang, "it's a Tug Of War"...


When I first saw this foto at www.spokesmanreview.com/blogs/hbo, I knew I would deface it in this manner.
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I'm just waiting 'till things get really ugly between the candidates later this year. And ol' McCain is kinda sittin' there like a vulture, waiting for these birds to tear each other to bits.

Reflections on Charlton Heston...
...and why, in the end, he made me extremely uncomfortable...

Blogger's note: The following is an e-mail I sent to a friend of mine who is a big Bob Dylan fan, who had sent me an article in which Mr. Dylan was pointing out how great the late actor Charlton Heston was. I like Dylan, I respected Heston's acting ability, but was uncomfortable with Heston's NRA persona...
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Up front, I realize everyone in the USA (who isn't a criminal) has the constitutionally-granted liberty of "Keeping and Bearing firearms", etc. etc., yadda, yadda yadda. I don't want to take anyone's guns away from them, but, But, BUT...You can watch the cop shows on Cable TV every night, where someone has shot and killed someone else for no good reason. We keep murdering each other. I say, "too many of the wrong people can easily obtain firearms"...and something's GOTTA be done about that. How about those random killings in the D.C. area a few years back? That's just one example.

I used to shoot in Archery leagues...and I sure wouldn't have wanted someone to take my bow and arrows away from me...by the same token, there's a lot of people who use guns for either target practice, or hunting, or competitive shooting, who never commit any kind of crime. At the same time, gun laws need to be more strictly enforced than they are now. I would imagine if we tightened up our borders, for example, maybe we could start to get a handle on this gun problem. Some say, "we don't need new gun laws; let's just enforce the existing ones." Okay, that's realistic. Now, DO IT. Tightening up and enforcing gun laws would (hopefully) make it harder for criminals to GET guns. Guns have had a vast negative effect on this country...The Kennedy assassinations; Martin Luther King...I do not need nor want to be where guns are.

Many times, whether it be a dope deal gone bad, or in a marital conflict, or at a workplace, where guns are present, those guns are, more often than not, used to resolve the situation. People just keep killing each other. Yeah, I know that if a gun isn't present, there's always knives or baseball bats or tire irons or human hands, but I think guns lend an instant threat, as opposed to other ways of killing someone. In short, if a gun isn't used, someone who's irate has a better chance of "counting to ten" and maybe deciding not to kill someone.

As far as Charlton Heston, I loved his acting. "The Ten Commandments" and "Ben-Hur" were gripping movies. But I don't think he did his image any favors when he stuck up for the NRA. I thot Heston really tarnished his image by holding that rifle above his head like a madman gone insane. When I saw Heston doing that, I felt like he'd let me down. So perhaps his immortal performance of Moses was indeed a Big Act. I don't know; I expected better from him. And all of a sudden, I didn't respect him as much. Guns may not kill people, but people with guns DO kill people, and when I heard Hestons' tirades, all of a sudden, I was disappointed; an actor I respected turned into some kind of crazy, histrionic, gun-totin' arms keeper. I'm not comfortable with that.



Charlton Heston, great actor and surprisingly militant NRA spokesman, almost foaming at the mouth in the above photo. He now has cold, dead hands.

Different players & coaches...
SAME OL' MARINERS...

Aw, gosh, here we go again with another fractuous baseball season. The "horse" has barely left the starting gate, and, there are some problems, some of the same ol' problems that if not corrected, will make this team the 'same ol' Mariners in terms of another .500 season (if that).

To begin with, as Rick Rizzs (Bob Costas wannabee broadcaster) points out every single solitary chance he can get, (as he is wont to do), so far, the greatest amount of Mariners runs have come via the HOME RUN. Oh yeah, it's nice to see a ball soar into the sky faster than a shuttle launch from Cape Canaveral, but, says Rizzs Niehaus, and everyone else from Corporate Prezzidents to shoe-shine boys, the M's need to "Manufacture Runs"...you know, getting a guy on base, getting the runner in scoring position, hitting a single, double, or whatever to git 'im home so he can score. And that's not happening a lot this season. Not so far, anyway. Many of the M's are below the .240 mark in the hitting department. No matter how the good the coaching is, if the hitters aren't hitting, well, they're well-coached whiffers, I guess.

Richie Sexson, the Paul Bunyan of baseball (I still think he keeps a giant Ox at his winter address), is whiffing and whiffing and striking out and whiffing, and then whiffing some more. Ichiro is off to his usual really-slow start, but says Niehaus (with more than a glimmer of hope), Ichiro will turn things around once again. Maybe so. I don't know. When I ran foot races, me being, well, not fast, my strategy was to "start slow and then taper off." One of these days Ichiro is gonna start slow, and then taper his way into oblivion. When Ichiro's doing GOOD, he still hits more than his share of little weak, dribbly, dinky ground balls that don't possess half the force of a ping-pong ball struck by a parakeet with a ping-pong paddle in its beak. Oh well, maybe Ichiro's got his sights set on being a Japanese Baseball Broadcasting star, like Kazuhiro Sasaki, the great relief pitcher, who, after a few seasons with the M's, became totally ineffective...playing in Seattle seems to have that effect on an athlete...

But, if the M's are to have any chance at all, the PITCHING has got to get better. The Mariners right now can't get any more than 5 innings out of its starters. That's gotta change. The effect of not lasting 5 innings? You end up playing COME-FROM-BEHIND baseball, and even if you're a really, really good team, if you find yourself in the hole after the 4th or 5th, well, chances are against ya if ya plans on winnin' at least enough games to get into the divisional playoffs, where you'll almost certainly lose to your opponent, 'cos their pitchers are better than yers. So the starting pitching has woes. The middle-relief pitchers aren't providing much relief, and there's a hole in the bullpen 'cos flamethrower J.J. Putz is on the disabled list right now. It almost sounds like the M's are a team of Destiny, with a capital "D". Remember, in school, a "D" meant that you were among the lowest of the low?

Look, I love baseball; I'm glad that my ol' buddies Niehaus and Rizzs are on the air; hearing their by-now-extremely-familiar vocal timbres coming out of whatever cheap little radio I have on in the house is always a Comforting Thing. Even if Rizz's top grade is "R"...as in "Repeat, repeat, repeat......." I predict here and now, that the M's will probably be 3rd again in their division, losing slightly more games than it wins over the season. I hope they prove me wrong. If not, well, look for roster changes come mid-season...
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BLOG UPDATE: So, after I wrote all of the above Saturday night, what did the M's go and do today? Well, first of all, they GOT GOOD PITCHING for 8 SOLID INNINGS!!! Trouble is, baseball games are 9 innings long...and that was enough of an opportunity for the M's to once again snatch Defeat from the jaws of Victory...Felix Hernandez pitched 8 innings of shutout ball...he was taken out after that, probably 'cos the Manager didn't wanna take a chance on damaging Felix' arm with a 9-inning performance, so the bullpen came in. A wild pitch, a couple of hits, and Baltimore beat the M's 3-2, scoring 3 runs in the ninth. In some ways, this loss is the more painful of the two I've described here. Can you say LONG SEASON? I knew ya could...if i was Felix Hernandez, I'd be tempted to just QUIT after this bullpen letdown and go work for a "Taco Bell" somewhere, sinces my chances of ever going to the World Series as a Mariner would be equally as null and void. Wait, the M's pay better than Taco Bell. But, if the M's don't get it together soon, it won't be just the fans who incur apathy...

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So why do I keep tuning into M's games year after year when they continually let me down? It probably has a little to do with outright masochism, but more than anything else, I take immense pride that I'm not a 'fair-weather' fan. And maybe I shouldn't be so rough on the M's. In my own little league career, I had THREE hits in THREE entire seasons. There was no such thing as "T-ball" back then, but if there'd been, I STILL would've struck out a lot.

Remembering Dad...
...and rendering mixed emotions on his 91st birthday...

For the most part, I don't know what to say. Where do I begin? I remember good times and bad times. I remember always being proud of him, and I also remember his temper fits and his yelling, yelling, yelling. I remember how hard he worked, I remember the fantastic fried chicken he used to make sometimes, I remember going to basketball games with him, I remember being afraid to swim "over my head", and him jumping in the water and imploring me to take the leap, which I did. I remember, also, letting him down a lot and disappointing him quite often. I remember him telling me, quote, "I love you as a son but I don't like you as a person", repeating it several times to make sure that my Mom heard him say that. I remember him coming home, after two weeks on the road and yelling at us. One time I'd spent $11.50 for a record album and he literally hit the roof. I remember thinking, "why is he so upset?"

Once, Dad introduced me to his friends thusly: "This is my son; he's more like his mother." I was probably 10 or 12 at the time, but even at that early age, I thought that was a strange thing for him to say. Another time, he said that "men don't get emotional; they cry inside." At the other end of the spectrum, I remember sitting with him and my sister at Mom's memorial service; she'd died the week before. He reached across my sister's lap and grabbed my left hand and squeezed hard. I remember, about 6 weeks after that, I was on the job and got called into the office; I asked why, and was told, "family emergency". And all of a sudden, I knew what happened. My big, strong, macho Dad, surrendering to impulse, gone in an instant. I try not to think about that anymore. And I hope I don't end up doing the same thing, due to heredity. I believe Dad had depression and anxiety issues. My sister has gone through her rough mental periods. And I have been twice diagnosed "Bi-Polar" and I go through all the ups and downs of that condition, on an almost daily basis.

I remember Dad telling me, "The number of true friends you make in your lifetime, you'll be able to count on one hand." I remember him saying, "ninety-nine percent of all the people in the world are sons-of-bitches." I remember him threatening to raise holy hell if I came home with "one of those God-damned Beatles records." And I remember him using The Stick. I remember him clipping my guitar strings while I was playing, and I shouted out, "Why the HELL did you do that?" and that's when he socked me in the face. I remember him trying as hard as he could to provide for our family; maintaining our house, building fences around the yard. Dad and I built a storage shed in two days. I held the nails, he hammered. He would raise the hammer up so close to his face that he would regularly come to within a quarter-inch of his face before slamming the nail home. I remember Dad trying, trying, trying, to be as good as he could be, all the time, but yet I remember the terror, hurt and anger he often leveled at his family. That would be me, my sister, and my Mom.

I am not sure, to this day, that I even miss him at all. Mixed emotions, definitely. Like any talented person, Dad had many contradictions boiling within him. He could play guitar and keyboards; he could sing, he could cook better than Mom, he could lay carpet, coat an entire floor with tile in record time, and still have energy left over to play Lawn Darts and Frisbee with me. And I remember, too, that I was always afraid of him. Walking around on tiptoes so as not to set him off. And as I age, I find more and more that I have his temper boiling inside of me. At times I am deep-down sad, anxious or depressed more than I'd like to be, and many times, I've just stayed at home alone over the last decade, just not wanting to be in the same room with anyone. I hate to be told what to do. And if anyone confronts me like Dad used to, I rise up. I had to take it from Dad. I don't have to take it from anyone else. I once got 'in the face' of a radio program director I used to work for when he began yelling and screaming at me. No one will ever do that to me again.

I remember Mom telling me a few years before she passed away that Dad had a drinking problem all those years, but he hid it from my sister and me. She thought that was at least part of the reason he would explode at our family with the smallest provocation. Dad, being 'old school', medicated himself with The Bottle. And, my jaw literally dropped open when Mom then told me, "If I'd known your Dad was gonna turn out the way he did, I wouldn't have married him." I'll never forget that. I remember, after I'd moved out and was living on my own, hearing my Mom's voice calling me at 3am one early Summer morning. I had the window open to let in cool air. No, it wasn't a dream. It was Mom, all right, and she had driven over from the town where they lived, and didn't have anywhere to go. She stayed in my apartment for a week. Evidently, Dad and she had raging arguments long after I'd left the nest which made things unbearable for her. It wasn't the last time Mom felt she had to Get Away From Dad.


Mom and Dad rest here in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. At least I hope they're resting.

So today is April 4th, right smack dab in the middle of the Aries birth sign. Dad's birthday. I'd wish him a 'happy birthday', but I don't know if he could ever really be happy. And like a typical full-blooded Aries, Dad would go through walls if they stood in his way. He indeed was a rugged, macho type of guy, who might have been weak inside, something he'd never reveal to anyone. I think of Dad now, and because I've got some of his genes, and I'm getting older, maybe I understand him a little bit better with the passing years. But I'll never fully understand. And I'm glad I don't have to deal with him anymore. I've come to think of death as a time when the mind is finally at rest. And I hope that Dad, wherever he is, is at peace, or at least, is finding more peace than when he was alive. Did I ever "love" my Dad? I don't know. I'm not even sure what "love" is anymore. But...I don't want anyone to suffer the way he did...or to continuously go thru the mental ups and downs my sister and I continue to go thru after all these years.
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Both my sister, who has been suicidal, and I (who have not!) are going to counseling and take various prescriptions to make the world a little more bearable. I'm just starting the long journey, but I'm glad to say that my Sister appears to have stabilized quite a bit over the last year. I will always believe that, at least to a point, the tendency to have mental problems is inherited. My definition of life? "It is what it is...deal with it".

BLOGGERS' GUMBO...
...a heapin' helpin' of fotos that were just layin' around...

Tonite I've been trying to come up with an idea for a post, since, after all, I haven't posted since Saturday and it is now early Thursday morning. And, I couldn't come up with anything to post about. So, I opened up my blog page, and clicked the foto-install thing which allows me to browse through all my photos. And then it hit me. I have a bunch of photos in my files that I saved because I thot I could use them someday for something. So I decided to "just fling 'em out" here and see what happens.

The first two photos are from an internet friend who's always sending me outrageously funny stuff...well, at the time, I thot they were funny...anyway, this first photo is an X-ray of a Politician...at least, that's what I was told...(what, me think something like that all by myself?)

I wonder if Barack, Hillary and McCain have X-rays they'd like to supply me with so I could verify this...we needed no such picture of Mr. Dubya Bush, tho...we could already tell...

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This next little doo-dad is what's known as "painfully obvious", and as such, needs no set-up from me...other than, I suppose, that enterprises such as this will continue to happen as long as we've invaded another country and superimposed our will upon them...anyway...



Granted, the above picture is inflammatory, wrongheaded and probably a highly irresponsible gesture on my part. Okay, fine. I'll counteract that with this:
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Miss Lee Morse, the famous bluesy singer of the '20s and '30s, was known for her fiery personality and sharp tongue. Later in her career, when her recording output slowed, she took to performing in nightclubs; oftentimes, she would verbally spar with those in the audience who got under her skin for some reason or 'nother...during her show one evening, when she took a break, the nightclub owner told the piano player (her husband), that it would be their last gig for a while because she had offended some audience members with her remarks...



...when she found about that, did she cry? Heck, no...she said, and I quote, "Well, let's get back up there and offend THE REST of 'em!!!" And you know...I'm proud of her. Great attitude. On another night, she was singing in Longview, Texas. An audience member came up to her during "break" and asked how she liked the town. Lee said (again a quote), "well, honey, I'm trying to get out of town so I can take a Long View of it!" Ya gotta love it!
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You've seen the famous cover photo of the Beatles walking across the street on the cover of their final album, "Abbey Road". As natural as that photo looked, however, they had to cross the street a bunch of times until the photographer caught them all in "similar stride". The photo below, shows them at the start of one of their street-crossings. Behind them is Abbey Road studios in London, where they recorded virtually every song they released...



For those of you who wonder how dumb Paul McCartney could've been to marry a barracuda like shrew ex-wife Heather, I have the answer. He wore a suit, but evidently forgot his shoes! But Heather's the one who eventually stepped on his toes, ha ha...
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Up next, is something that Cat Lovers Across The Nation will find offensive...and I'm sure that after this, the ASPCA will probably hang a wanted poster of me in Post Offices across the country...let me introduce this foto with the immortal words uttered long ago by Morris: "Meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow..."


A bowl of this stuff is guaranteed to make you feel...."Friskie"...(well, it had to be said). Meow.
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I recently ordered a Bird Cage, and it got delivered the other day. Nope, it's not an "open box, take out cage, insert bird" type of thing. This cage is gonna be for a PARROT. These birds need plenty of space and a lot to do to keep 'em busy and it's gotta have room to spread its wings. The cage came in Pieces, which I had to put together. Mind you, I'm more technically deficient than the proverbial "one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest." Plus, to make it harder for me, some of the drill holes into which I inserted fastening screws didn't match up, and I worked an entire afternoon putting this thing together:



The cage I got is dark green, and looks something like what you see above. Note the "play area" on top of the cage, where Parrots can do goofy things like walk around, poke at things, squawk and be weird...I'm buying a baby parrot from a breeder, and she tells me that the parrot already knows a few words; I guess I'd better not swear around this bird. You know how parrots show each other affection? They regurgitate food and pass it to another parrot. So, maybe if I'm having a really bad day, I can climb in the cage (it looks roomy enough!) and the parrot can "hurl" a little bit for me. Squawk. Oh, by the way...I'm not totally done putting this thing together yet. So why am I going to all of this trouble? Well, a picture is worth a thousand words:



Look at that face. Don't you just wanna say, "awwwww....."? This is a Pionus Parrot, and they're known for their calm and deliberate demeanor. Well, they do squawk a bit, but hopefully not enough to send me to the nearest Asylum. As soon as the weather gets warmer, he's being flown to me. Which makes me wonder: Can Birds Get Air Sickness? I could never be a bird. I have acrophobia. I can't climb more than 2 or 3 steps up a ladder. Anyhow, alongside the bird, I've included another picture of Miss Lee Morse. To me, the similartity of these two photos is startling. A bird...and a "Songbird". How about that...
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One of my stranger posts, for sure. But, you could look at it this way...there's a little something in this post for everybody. A true case of blogger's gumbo. Eat hearty. By the way...it took me 3 hours to put this post together. I coulda had the cage done by now!