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Billy Mays was found at home today, not alive. His return flight home yesterday was ultra-turbulent, and while seated in the plane, something fell, striking him in the head, but reportedly he said, "No Worry, I've got a Hard Head." Whether or not that was the cause of death remains to be determined. He could've used some Resusso-Cream. Rest in Peace, Billy...

THE MUSIC OF MICHAEL JACKSON...

...from a non-fan's perspective...

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The first big hit by the Jackson 5 was "I Want You Back", a tune I never really did like all that much. I think the tune's always been kind-of a mess; when I heard it, I wondered what all the fuss was about. Later on, I found a second-hand copy of their followup single, "The Love You Save", which I thought was much, much better. Michael had a big solo hit with "Got To Be There", which he sang most effectively. I also remember the song "Ben", another Michael Jackson solo song, from a movie ("Willard", which had something to do with rats, I've heard)...and that's also a good tune. Nice melody, clearly sung.

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Later on, after I graduated College and was working my first radio job, I remember when the Jacksons (they had dropped the '5' by then) came out with an ultra-funky song called "Enjoy Yourself", as I heard it, thot "not bad, not bad at all". Then "Rock With You" from Michael's "Off The Wall", his big 1978 album, was all over the airwaves, and since I've always liked propulsive music, I, a hard-rock fan, had to grudgingly admit, "This guy's pretty good, ain't he?" Later on, his "Thriller" album came out...and "Billie Jean", from that album, is about as funky and propulsive as music gets. He sang a tender ballad, "She's Out Of My Life", which almost made ME cry; he injected so much feeling into that song. He did a duet with Paul McCartney, "Say Say Say", which was pretty good. He and McCartney did another duet; "The Girl Is Mine", which was kinda shlocky, but it lingers (however irritatingly) in my Musical Memory. He was a major player in the Music Scene for quite a while. And, he hasn't been for quite a while, too.

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I think Michael Jackson, musically speaking, was plenty good. He made some really great recordings; he projected excitement in his performances, and something deep within tells me that when he sang, he wore his heart on his sleeve. Talented? You bet he was. I was never a big fan of the Jacksons; I have "Off The Wall" and "Thriller" in my collection only because I found them cheap in second-hand stores...but his music really leapt forth from the speakers when the radio played it, and immediately you knew who it was, from the first downbeat. That's the trademark of a great hit; you can name that tune in One Note. In a way, I can liken Michael Jackson's career to that of Bill Clinton: They both had so much going for them, but flaws in their respective personalities brought about their downfall from grace.

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But, as Bill Clinton was a great politician, Michael was a great artist. No matter how you may feel about them, you have to concede that much. As Hooked On The Beatles as I will forever be, I have to realize that for those who grew up in the '70s and '80s, the loss of Michael Jackson has to be as cataclysmic for those folks as John Lennon's death always will be to me. With George Harrison, at least we had time to prepare for his passing. As shocking and horrifying Lennon's death was to me, Jackson's sudden death is probably devastating to those who grew up idolizing him. It was torturing to see Jackson's reputation sullied and tarnished; it's something he (and his reputation) never recovered from. His legacy is forever stained by his proclivities and resulting entanglements in the Legal System, but one more thing you gotta admit, love or hate him:

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Musically Speaking, when Michael Jackson was good, he was Very, Very Good. The tragedy lies in what he became, what we associated him with, and how he ended up. I'll never hear a Michael Jackson Record the same way ever again. But I suppose I actually haven't for a long time, really, for Michael's Fall From Grace began a long, long time ago.

MICHAEL AND FARRAH...
Two Prisoners of Fame, prisoners no longer...
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Two light-years-apart celebrities passed away today; I just found that out a few minutes ago when I went online. In spite of my not being a huge fan of either, I'm sad...
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I think that Michael Jackson was a tortured soul. I remember his appearance during a long-ago Super Bowl halftime show; there he was, with the children in the stands, and I thought that was wholesome somehow; obviously, that was before he began getting in trouble for his predilections…I also think that once he became a mega-star when his “Thriller” album sold in the mega-millions, he didn't know how to handle his burgeoning fame; the release of that album and its immediate aftermath seemed to coincide with MJ's weirdness. Plus, he probably had the “Elvis Presley syndrome” in which the pop/rock star wants this, wants that and everything else, and there's no one around to tell him “No”.
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And then there's Farrah. She had the most beautiful hair in the world, although she was always a little too thin for my own taste. She always seemed to handle the Press in a gentle way, with lots more dignity than most people could muster. I read that her type of Cancer is relatively rare. But the cancer also wracked her body with pain. How such an ailment can strike down such a beautiful person seems ironic, somehow. All I know is that life is to be cherished, and those of us with the Gift of Life need to appreciate that we can see nature's wonders and hopefully spend our time as positively as we can.
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I have one little bird sitting on my knee right now, and the other is sitting by the open cage door, and in their own way, they represent Life. Somehow having them near right now is reassuring. On days like these, Death doesn't seem all that far away. I'm sad for both of these people who died today, and I must admit, I was in a bit of shock when I learnt of their passing. We all have our personal hells, and most of the time we succeed in repressing them; indeed, I don't think anyone goes thru life untarnished. Somehow we get thru it. That's the great mystery…why all this happens in the first place. Perhaps losing two well-known people such as Michael and Farrah makes us all aware of our own mortality. Que Vida. That's Life.
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About a month ago, I went into the pet store against my better judgment...there they were in a cage; I put my hand up to the cage to see how they'd both react, and they both lowered their heads, wanting head scratches. And my heart melted. And now they're here with me. It was important for me to get them both; I'm gone at least a few hours every day, so it's reassuring to me that they have each other for company.

Above is little"Sunshine", the yellow-crested cockatiel. I thought "Sunshine" was a male, and so did the clerk at the pet store. Usually the male has the yellow coloration. So much for theory...Sunshine Laid an Egg on Me earlier this week. I was sitting in the La-Z-Boy and she was sitting near my knee, and 'plop', just like that I heard something hit the carpeted floor. A little Cockatiel Egg. This little bird just Wants Me All The Time. And, below, little "Shadow"; I'm not sure at all of this bird's gender. With some birds, it's hard to tell. Shadow is a little bit aloof; I'm still working with him/her. This should be an interesting saga. Bird People, if you can 'sex' my little gray, it would be mucho appreciated...

COW BELCHES, BIRD EMISSIONS AND TV COMMERCIALS...
...seems like there ain't a whole lotta difference between these...
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Consumer Warning: This post is as bad as it gets. Maybe Worse, even.
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I thot I'd seen it all in e-mails; guess not, for I got a 'spam thing' today from a sender who calls him/her/itself "Nice Toes". The ad invites me to "eliminate toe fungus quickly". Isn't that kinda personal? I don't really wanna talk about toe fungus online. Next thing ya know, they'll be trying to sell me Bag Balm for Humans. Ack. Another spam-e-mail from Acai Cleansing wants me to "flush pounds of Nasty Black Waste out of (my) intestines." I'm sitting here trying to eat a banana, and I sure don't need to process the prospect of flushing my own personal Body Sludge anytime soon. It seems like Society is just getting a little-too unreserved for my taste. I don't want to talk about Viagra or That Magic Thing that makes every sexual experience resemble getting launched from a Rocket Pad at Cape Canaveral. I still find it odd that "that" portion of The Female Body is referred to as "The Bikini Line". Heck, the commercials throw it in our faces. If that's not Up Close and Personal, I don't know what is. I only knew that when I grew up, society wasn't so frank or honest. And I still come away shocked at times.
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Arrid Extra-Dry was about as far as things went back then. No one wants arm-pit odor, after all. And, when I was a kid, the "Preparation-H" commercials didn't bother me; I didn't even know what hemorrhoids are (I still really don't), or what portion of the body they were used for, so those commercials seemed relatively tame. Aside: Could that have been the reason I had such difficulty concentrating in school? "Miss Finnagle, can I be excused? I need to apply some "Preparation-H..." Those old desks with the hard wooden seats were probably breeding grounds for hemorrhoids. Perhaps that's why school was a Pain In The *** most of the time. Really, though, TV commercials have succeeded, to a point, anyway, in desensitizing us to the point of where the mass media can inundate us with mind-numbing details of the most Intimate Things and we're not supposed to be embarrassed about it all. We've been bombarded with everything from 'jock itch' to 'feminine itch' over the years and have become desensitized to those things; nowadays it seems like Madison Avenue is leading the charge in our exposure to all kinds of gross body-function-type stuff into our faces; far as I'm concerned, I don't want to even hear about it. Didn't Society have More Dignity Way Back When? Well, say goodbye to that...everything's fair game these days...
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Just this evening, I saw a Pamprin commercial that tells me Said Product is supposed to lessen the effects of 'that time of the month', which reminds me of the birth control ad in which the prospect of Actually Never Having Periods (or less of them) is outlined. I don't want to know about that kind of stuff or even Think About It. All of these body-function-things get waved in our faces and forced down our eardrums myriad times in a day...is there no 'shock value' anymore? It seems like the Advertising community has gone waay past Zit Cream, or Dandruff, or Athlete's Foot, and the Sky's The Limit anymore. I remember one commercial for the laxative "Doxidan", in which Cowboys gathered 'round a campfire would sing, 'Doxidan, Doxidan, when Nature needs a helping hand'...I thought that was Very Silly and even Extreme. Out of such moments spring forth absolutely stupid things like "Viva Viagra"...which is Just Unbelievable. Normal, hetero he-men, sitting in a circle with guitars, singing about Erections? I'm sorry; I don't want to discuss that with ANYONE.
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So instead, I'll talk about something else: Cow Belching. The lead-in to this article in today's paper says "The Goal is to reduce the greenhouse gas that Cows Belch". It goes on to say, "The gas cows belch is the dairy industry's biggest greenhouse gas contributor...most of it emitted from the front, not the back end of the cow." In short, how much gas your Holstein emits is the result of what you feed your cow. Well, okay, that makes sense. Don't let your cow drink beer or carbonated beverages, that's for sure, or Methane Explosions may result. Maybe someone out there needs to compute a sort of cow-belching to gallon-of-milk ratio or whatever. But how many people belch after swigging down a quart of milk? I know I do...cows aren't totally without merit, although...after all, they've contributed to the Music Community as the picture below reveals...
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But, this doesn't stop with cows...think about the Beverage Industry's contribution to the belch-gas-factor? Soon environmentalists will adopt the cause of "flat beer for everyone", 'cos the beer-belches from every foamy beer, by every customer in every bar, night after night, is poking mammoth holes into our Ozone Layer, especially the Big Hole over Antarctica. Actually, I wonder if penguins are to blame for that, since that's where they live and there's millions of them walking around, wantonly crapping all over the place. Here we are, trying to Protect The Penguins, when they're contributing to the Ozone problem. Anyone whose ever kept birds knows about What They Do. Parakeets "putt" once every 6 minutes or so...and that's just one example. Finch are even worse. It's amazing that a two-inch-finch can deposit a residue that's half again as big as it is. Methane City, for sure. Actually, though, I share a lot of responsibility for degrading our atmosphere; I drink At Least One Pepsi a day, and it works its wonders with my digestive system: "BRAAAP!!!" Oh my gosh; another hole in the ozone. Things will Formally have Gone Too Far when someday, a Prezzidential Candidate is running on an anti-carbonation platform. Braaap. That'll be right around the time the Beer Industry adopts the following slogan: "Flat's Where It's At". Braap...
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This is a post that did no one any good whatsoever, I realize. But if I've startled you by providing 'too much information' about things, well, that's how the TV commercials of today make me feel. And now I've polluted the bloggo-sphere with cyber-residue such as this. The Internet Will Never Be The Same. Things can only go downhill from here...

I GUESS I'M NOT PART OF THAT GROUP ANYMORE...
...as if I needed to be reminded yet again...
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I guess I've come to be a creature whose life has revolved around advertising. How many times do we remember a particular commercial, and not the program which contained it? Well, of course, annoying commercials get burned into our brains...fpr example, consider the timeless phrase "Ring Around The Collar!" (what did that commercial advertise? The answer is in the section printed in italics at the end of this post, assuming, of course, it ever ends...) I tend to think of this blog as one long never-ending post sometimes. I'm never done. And now it's Saturday again. The Week's almost over; gotta get my posts in there so I can stay respectable...as if that's possible...
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There's a radio spot which comes on during Seattle Mariners Games, and it's actually a sort-of public-service thing. It features a guy who says, "I invented Rock and Roll. I invented the Pony Express, and you said you didn't get your letter fast enough, so I invented Air Mail, and when that took too long, I came up with E-Mail". (No, the guy isn't Al Gore, who allegedly invented the Internet.) After this person enumerates all the stuff he's invented, he poses the question, "Who Am I"? And then he answers his own question..."I Am...YOUTH." Yeah, it's a good ad; it gets ya thinking, and of course, Youth should be given a chance. But, this is another instance in which I am Painfully Reminded that I am not "youth", and haven't been for years. (It would be just perfect if the ad said, "I am Youth...and you're NOT." Poetic Justice, to be sure.) I'm aging fast enough, okay? I don't need any help from you script-writers out there...
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This didn't put me in a good mood: I decided to go to the beach today. So, I backed outta the driveway and took my little side-street over to the main street that accesses the highway. While "looking both ways", I saw a Menacing Black Car in the distance on the main-street, decided there was enough space to turn out ahead of him, which is what I did. I got no more than 20 or 30 feet when the Menacing Black Car accelerated, weaving back and forth, trying to drive up my trunk! Immediately I pulled over and let the A**hole by. That's my style. Well, it turns out a female was driving the car; they zipped down the road a ways, pulled over to the side, and the lady got out, got in the passenger seat, and the guy sitting in the passenger seat got behind the wheel. You know, the whole Chinese Fire-Drill type thing. (My apologies if any folks of the Oriental Persuasion were offended here...that may not be a 'politically correct' term; oh well...)
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I proceeded to advance slowly as I drew near their car; I very carefully passed them, since their car wasn't moving, and advanced to the intersection where the Highway was. Then, the by-now menacing Black Car pulled in behind me. Ulp...I had to wait for a space in the traffic so I could get on the highway, and finally I pulled out, at which time, the Menacing Black Car honked its horn at me. It then entered the highway RIGHT BEHIND ME, as if the driver wanted to remove my transmission without leaving his vehicle, and I didn't feel Safe At All; what could I do? I found another wide spot a half-mile down the highway where I could again pull over and seek Traffic Asylum. Double-Ulp...
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And as the Menacing Black Car zoomed past me, still weaving, it honked its horn again. I had been doing the speed limit. A**holes. This whole thing reminds me of a Steve Martin Comedy Routine: He proposes a way to slow down population growth; "Death Penalty For Parking Fines!", he said. How about if we could adopt that same policy for ALL tailgaters? Anyway, in this age of Road Rage, I stayed pulled over for a couple minutes until a few more cars went past, that way I wouldn't have to encounter this ***hole again. Since I don't plan on dying by another's hand anytime soon, I thot this was good strategy, since I'm getting old and somewhat feeble. I won't say that All Tailgaters Should Be Shot, at least, not in the Vital Organs. Wingin' em might be called for, tho. This is how much I HATE tailgaters! Where I come from, when you see a speed limit sign, you are supposed to try and Match the amount of M.P.H. the sign indicates, providing conditions are normal. But you can't tell that to an A**hole.
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Maybe this guy will watch the upcoming Indy 500 and that will diminish his Will To Speed And Harass Law-biding Motorists In The Process. (Yeah, rrrright...who am I kidding?) I once saw an old movie (it was in Black and White), and the plotline revolved around a guy driving down a Desert Highway out in the middle of nowhere, when he encounters an 18-wheeler that is Obviously trying to Kill Him...and that's kinda how I felt today. What with all the designer drugs coursing through the systems of Who Knows Who, perhaps people are Raging more than ever these days. And I don't want any part of that.
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You've slaved away with me so far; here's some Eye Candy for ya: This photo was taken about 50 feet from where the Main Road accesses the Highway. There's not an awful lot of room on the Highway; at this spot, there's a cliff 60 feet high with the Bay beyond. Again, Ulp. Anyway, the other night, I walked down to this spot that's fairly near my house, sat in the tall grass as far away from the road as I could get, and proceeded to photograph Yet Another Sunset. That's the Western part of Coos Bay in the foreground, the North Spit (narrow 'finger' of land) in the background, with the Ocean lurking just beyond. And, Ma Nature decided to be mysterious; obscuring the sun with all sorts of Cloud Matter...

Finally, as promised: What product did the "Ring Around The Collar" commercial advertise? "Wisk" bleach! Okay, here's another one: Which over-the-counter Medication featured "Tiny Time Pills" in its commercials? CONTAC allergy pills; you know, the kind of stuff people (like the A**holes referred to above) make Meth out of...

TRULY A SIGN OF THE TIMES...
...you not only get a fair warning, you get options!

I don't like large, overbearing crowds, or busybodies who want to poke their noses into someone else's business. That's one of the reasons I moved down here to the Southern Oregon Coast. Crowds and congestion are things I try to avoid. I used to think "being where it's at" was the important thing, but as I age, I find myself more and more looking for quiet spaces where I don't have to be anything but myself.

The following Cute Little Item is posted on a fence near where I live. I've placed my own commentary in place of the Street Address, and now I'll just let the sign tell, as Paul Harvey would say, "The Rest Of The Story"...



I'm pretty sure that this guy never worked for "Welcome Wagon" or the local Chamber of Commerce. He lives down the street and around the corner from me. And sometimes, I feel like he does. Especially concerning that last line. Maybe I should get a goat and tie it to the porch to scare away the missionaries!

I HEAR A SYMPHONY...
...a 'pocket symphony, that is...
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Beach Boy Brian Wilson, who produced all of the Classic Beach Boys' sounds, referred to his creation, "Good Vibrations" (1966) as a 'Pocket Symphony', which it was, sort-of...it was recorded over a period of time, in several different studios, and cost hundreds of thousands of dollars to put together. Of course, it was a big hit, and a fairly timeless piece of music. "Good Vibrations" clocked in at 3 and a half minutes, and it was fairly symphonic in scope, I must say...

But as far as the term "Pocket Symphony", I can think of Another Record that really fits that description. First of all, it is Seven Minutes and Twenty Seconds long. It features symphonic backing, a glorious female vocal backing, is swathed in impressionistic lyrics, and even rocks a little bit. Why I was drawn to this song as a kid, I don't know. I was into Rock and Roll, after all. So why would I be drawn to this semi-symphonic song? And the answer is, "It Grabbed Hold Of Me And Wouldn't Let Go." And it's been spinning 'round in my head since 1967. Plus, it was Really Something to have a 7-minute song on a little 45! That's virtually unheard of...and since a 45rpm record is small, the grooves are really crammed close together to squeeze in all that music...

It features the vocals of someone who wasn't even a Musician; he was an Actor, although along the way he might have sung a bit in various acting/stage performances. Richard Harris sang it, and Jim Webb wrote it, which was a big deal, 'cos at the time, Jim Webb was firing off hit after hit after hit..."Up, Up and Away" by the 5th Dimension was probably the first big song he was known for. He went on to write many more important songs until his creative muse mysteriously evaporated around the turn of the '70s. He wrote "Worst That Can Happen" (By the Brooklyn Bridge), "All I Know" (by Art Garfunkel), "Wichita Lineman" and "Galveston" (Glen Campbell sang those), plus a host of others...but he really did himself proud with this tune...

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Yep, "MacArthur Park". Just a gorgeous, gorgeous tune that somehow manages to sound better and better every time I play it. And I've played it hundreds of times, if not thousands. I read somewhere that "MacArthur Park" was the ending piece of a song suite Jim Webb had written for The Association (they had hits with 'Cherish', 'Never My Love', etc.), but the group told him to Take A Hike. Rebuffed, he then got Richard Harris to sing it. Some trivia regarding this tune...all the instruments were recorded in Los Angeles, and then tape was then shipped to England, where Richard Harris sang it. Finally, the other side ("Didn't We", also written by Webb) clocked in at a more concise 2:24, and was the Original A-Side of the single, but a DJ in a big radio market played the other side, and it caught on.
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I realize this is a big world we live in, with troubled times everywhere, and oftentimes, there's no time left to do all the things you must do...but if you have a spare 8 minutes, maybe you'd like to activate the little YouTube thing I've included below..."MacArthur Park" by Richard Harris...it'll take you back to a far, far different time long ago...although it wasn't that long ago...
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This Picture of Richard Harris was the one used on the front cover of "A Tramp Shining", which is a cycle of Jim Webb songs; each one very ethereal and poetic, that make up the album. And Mr. Harris, in his breathy, dignified raspings, sings very eloquently. Finally, and this is important: "MacArthur Park" is 9 seconds longer than "Hey Jude" by the Beatles; at least, that's what the label says. Based on that fact, I believe "MacArthur Park" was the longest-ever song to make the Billboard Top 40 list. Not bad for a pocket symphony...

Getting in Just Under The Wire...

"My blogging drought continues", Volume 237

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Saturday night, the last night of the week, and here I am, 4 hours before midnight this time around, so I'll meet my goal of two posts a week. Of course, Some Blog Contents may have settled due to shipping and handling, but at least I've posted something. This about-face is due to the fact that I'm not really going to Facebook much anymore, which cut into vital posting time. So instead of goofing around at Facebook, I'll goof off here instead. So anyway, do I have a plan for this particular post? No, not really...I still can't think of much of anything to post about, so what I did instead was nab some photos from my files and try to show everyone how unique an individual I am (Yeah, like I'm going to become That anytime soon). So, this post will be typical of Whimsical Posts Nobody Reads. You could be reading one right now...

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The first photo, below, is a 1926 record by Vintage Songbird Jane Green, who passed away in 1931. So long ago. When I hear her records, it's difficult to even comprehend that she hasn't been on this planet for going on 80 years. The title is "Mamma Loves Pappa, Pappa Loves Mamma", but the B-side's even better..."Mamma Goes Where Pappa Goes, Or Pappa Don't Go Out To-Nite". That record's got to be one of the earliest-ever conceptual singles, what with both titles addressing domestic bliss...or the lack thereof.

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Below are the only two Picture Discs in my collection. I remember back in the '80s when they were all the rage, but actually, Picture Discs had been made back as long ago as the 1940's and possibly earlier. Anyway, if you're only going to have one Picture Disc, I suppose it should be The Beatles' "Sgt. Pepper"; side one features the cover photo, and side two (not shown) features the "Sgt. Pepper" bass drum, close-up. The second disc is "Monkee Business" by Your Favorite Teen Idols, which is actually a collection of obscure and hard-to-find Monkees tunes. The biggest disadvantage of Picture Discs, for me, is that if I want to play a track in the middle of the record, I have difficulty seeing where the 'bands' between the songs are as the disc spins...

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In the photo below, you'll see an obscure, nameless band from the early 1900's whose photo was featured on the innersleeves of '60s albums made by Reprise Records; you know, the label on which Jimi Hendrix and Neil Young, among many others placed some of their most important music. The photo caption reads thusly: "Reprise Records, Makers Of Fine Music". There were so many good singers and players way back when, and tragically, we cannot really hear how fine they were, since the recording technology basically sucked eggs in the Early Daze. I would imagine this band had to blow as hard as they could in front of a mammoth recording horn, hoping the device picked up their sound at all. So here they are, The Un-named Horn Band; forerunners of such brass groups as Chicago or Blood, Sweat and Tears...

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Warner Bros. Records, who owned Reprise, had a sort-of 'yesteryear' campaign of their own; their '70s innersleeves featured a photo taken September 23, 1917, featuring the Main Street of Beautiful Downtown Burbank with horses and buggies everywhere. The road wasn't paved. It was such a long time ago. And I can't help but wonder about the people in the photo. They're all gone now. And to think that between 1917 and now, is , in geological time, barely the blink of an eye. Whoa...better change direction here...things are gettin' heavy...

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This next little device has kept me company for the last decade...I take it with me as I walk on the beach, and I can hear Mariners Games, and it even has a little antenna with which I can pick up FM stations...and if you dial-down your preference for Ultra-High-Fidelity, this little unit actually does a pretty fair job of keeping me informed or entertained, and sometimes both at the same time. (Although there is nothing entertaining about hearing the Mariners Lose.) So here it is, my little "Gran Prix" transistor radio that has somehow survived the elements of salt, sea and sand over the last decade...this was a little Used item I bought at a Goodwill Store for a buck or two in the 1990's...I'd say I've gotten my moneys' worth...

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Finally, a couple of pictures from the Wild Kingdom. Well, maybe not so wild; I don't know. Marlon Perkins did it a lot better than I, but here goes, anyway. I will preface this photo by saying, if you've got a 'frog in your throat', hopefully it's nowhere near the size of Mr. Toad, pictured below. Or you might croak, heh heh...

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This next little guy has the same expression on his face that's usually on mine; that of endless bewilderment. I was surfing around on Craigslist, and while looking at the Pets For Sale, I saw the words "Sugar Glider", and honestly, I've never heard of such a creature before. It looks kinda like a cross between a Mouse (ears) and an Owl (eyes).

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That's it, that's all you get this time around, but it's probably enough, right? Two more tidbits, though. The Mariners lost tonight after committing a crucial throwing error when the game was tied. Not very 'entertaining'. And, the group "Cream" recorded a song featuring a Ginger Baker drum solo; the title is "Toad". And with that, I can mercifully end this piecemeal posting...

WILD TALES FROM THE CYBERSPACE TAR-PITS...
...or, How Do I Get Hooked Into These Things Anyway?
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BLOGGER ALERT: This is post 900 here on this blogsite. It's taken me close to 6 years (SIX YEARS???) to get this far. Through that time, I've amassed 3 or 4 faithful readers, and I thank you all for visiting. Thank You, Thank You, Thank You, Thank You. There; that's 4 Thank-you's. That should cover it.
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Well, I missed my Posting Deadline...the previous post, my first of the week, was Friday night. I really tried to get to this here blogsite before midnight Saturday, but I even missed that goal. I've been trying to post twice a week, and, well, I fell short. I've been in the midst of dubbing Albums I Don't Really Care if I keep forever, and have gotten so carried-away with that, my posting deadline came and went, and I keep wondering, where's the time gone? The answer to that would probably be, the time has slipped by at 33 and a-third Revolutions per minute. Although sometimes it slips away at either 45 or 78rpm. Depends on what I'm dubbing.
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And, now, to the wide, wacky world of Cyberspace...A friend of mine sent me an e-mail with an odd subject line, "I didn't invite you." Huh? What? Her message referred to junk e-mails that say, "Someone has tagged your e-mail". I guess all kinds of nasty things come attached with those things, so for heavens' sake, don't open 'em. I'm still getting e-mails from Every Single Country In The World, saying that I've won the big grand lottery prize that's been awarded to me thru an 'Internet Sweepstakes' or some such thing, and that I'm 'sposed to get in touch with Doug Thomas, or Paul Richard or whoever. What's unusual is that most of the time, I'm supposed to contact someone with Two First Names, sorta like Frank Leonard or Robert Edward. So beware of people with two first names...they probably don't exist. Although, the broadcasting industry is full of them. If a Dee-Jay tells you his name is "Joe Arnold", for example, you can safely assume his real name is Joe Arnold Cosnowfitowich or some such other unprounounceable moniker. But I'm straying off-topic...IF I've really won money, all they have to do is send me a check, and I'll cash it. But for some reason, it's never that simple. Hey, I love money and I'd love to be stinking filthy rich. But I sense "scam" with all of these supposed lottery winnings. You notice how those lotteries are in Spain or England, or the Western Bloc or Timbuktu, but Never Here In The States? I won't even buy from Foreign Countries on Ebay, let alone send money to a foreign country to free-up money I've supposedly won. Bah Humbug!
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Anyway, there sure is a lot of junk which travels up, down, and through the internet. I keep getting offered Gift Cards from "Victoria's Secret", although I'm sure nothing I'd buy from them would fit me (well, maybe the 'plus sizes' would), but since I don't look good in silk and lace, I think I'll pass on that, thank you. I also get e-mails which want me to claim my Free Laptop Computer! I got roped into that once and neverrrr again. Beware! If you decide to take the bait, you'll be taken to a page that has 72 special offers everything that you will never need, but you're required to select At Least One. So you think yer done? Not quite...for you will then be taken to another page, with 175 special offers for merchandise, services, whathaveyou, and you'll have to select at least 17 of them. The next page takes you to more offers, which take you to Still More Offers...the time I got suckered in by that scheme, I'd been online an Hour and a Half, Still filling in offers, With No End In Sight! So I decided to leap out of Computer Purgatory then and there. I can just imagine an old Aged Man, who's been online for 75 years, accepting offers left, right, front and center All In Hopes that he's acquiring a New Free Computer. That is, if he ever gets to the END of all those maddening "special offers".
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Never thot I'd admit this, but I've going to Facebook (a social networking site) quite a lot lately; it started when all of a sudden, a bunch of high school classmates of mine sent me Facebook Notices saying They Wanted To Be My Friend...which was initially difficult for me to accept, seeing as how they didn't want or care to be my friend All Those Years Ago. Once you get hooked onto Facebook, you get all sorts of e-mails saying that "Melvin Bungeemeister (made-up name) or whoever commented on something you wrote, so click this link to go and leave a reply!" Multiply that activity by 10 or 15 (I think I might have that many friends), and all of a sudden, Facebook becomes something akin to cyberspace quicksand, 'cos you get sucked in, and all of a sudden you've been on Facebook for 3 hours, and it's past your bedtime! Speaking of Social Networking (which Facebook is), there's another TV commercial running these days saying "Social Networking is out of style". Which might be just as well, since I'm kind-of an Old Crusty Hermit to begin with. Facebook is fun and rather interesting, but so what? A lot of other, more substantial things are, too. And finally...
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...this is what I'm turning into...a Computerosaurus, headed for the tar pits one day. I've been going online since 1997; I've blogged and e-mailed and spent money online; I've done Full System Recoveries when I've had to, I've phone-wrestled with Tech Support People overseas who I can't understand, and I can even give out computer advice to those who know less than I (there aren't many). I'm old now, and I can't run marathons or swim the English Channel or anything like that, but I can still zip away at 75 words-a-minute. That must mean I'm still alive, huh? Little did I think that my High School Typing Class would lead to this...

NEITHER RAIN, WIND, SNOW OR LACK OF INSPIRATION...
...keeps this blogger from completing his appointed rounds...

I believe, lately, that I've Hit The Wall; I've run out of resourceful ideas to expand upon here in this forum. So, I'll use the relatively unknown axiom of Bloggers Everywhere, which is "If you don't have anything to write about, just keep typing 'till something happens". I realize the past few things I've placed here have absolutely REEKED, but what can I do? I just haven't felt inspired to write much of anything for the past few weeks, and admittedly I've been 'cranking em out' just to take up space and meet my self-imposed goal of two posts a week. Gosh, I remember when I was blogging three or four times a DAY. Maybe it's all the gray days we've had here on the Coast lately. We've actually had thunder the last couple of nights here. I just hope the Sun comes out and actually stays around for a couple of days sometime soon. Gray skies, day after day, are numbing. So I'm casting about for SOME kind of subject to present itself here, although the Paragraph you are now reading is a perfect example of me taking up space without saying much of anything...so, let's get Topical for a (brief) moment...

Now that Obama is President, my political awareness has once again dropped to its customary level of 'Fairly Ignorant'. I guess he and Hillary went to Egypt recently? I thot he'd made her Secretary of State so he could send her all over the place and get rid of her. Let's see, what else...Gas Prices are once again up to the $2.60-plus level here; I'm getting more used to my dentures, although at times it still feels like I have a hockey puck (or a horseshoe) in my mouth. I also read that David Carradine, the "Kung Fu" guy, committed suicide within the last couple of days. I don't know why I never watched that show; I just never took an interest in it. That's not a comment on how good or bad the show was; it just didn't grab me, 'tis all...and there ya have it. All the cultural, political and dental information You Will Ever Need. Okay, so where do I go from here...?

Well, I'm currently involved in the process of Thinning Out My Record Collection once again. This time around, I've got a CD Recorder, so I'll still have the music even though the records are gone. I'd try to sell them on Ebay, but that just looks like one Royal Hassle that I don't need to aggravate my life with. Imagine one of those boxes that Apples come shipped in...I have close to 30 apple-boxes of albums taking up valuable space; plus, I can foresee the day when I can no longer take all my records with me wherever I go. Oh, don't worry; I'm keeping the records that mean a lot to me, but so far, I've recorded over 150 CD's, most of them containing 2 albums each, and have filed away a lot of those albums in the give-away box. Mostly artists who came and went without much of a trace in the '70s, '80s and '90s fall into this category. I believe I have close to 3,000 albums; I hope one day to whittle it down to somewhere between 500 and 1,000 LP's. This is no big deal; back in 2003, I gave away 25 boxes of albums that I really didn't care much about.

In the past, I've bought a lot of Used Record Albums from thrift stores (Cheap!),
coming home many times with armloads of vinyl, and that way, I got to hear a lot of music I wouldn't otherwise have been able to afford, or never would have bought because I wasn't really a fan of the artists whose second-hand albums I was buying. But, as is true with everything else, You Just Can't Have Everything. Or Hear Everything, as I've tried to do. But I've been hearing a TON of music this year; CD's made on a CD Burner from a Turntable are all dubbed in Real Time. Which means, the album plays as it dubs. Two albums (one CD's worth) take up roughly an Hour and a Half to dub from LP to CD (Welcome to the world of Analog, I guess).

Oh, hey! What an idea! All of a sudden, I've got something to talk about...how about a list of artists whose records I will NEVER part with, until someone rips them out of my 'cold, dead hands'...okay...here's a short list my most valued artists...feel free to Google--or YouTube--any of 'em so you, too, can take a Magical Mystery Tour:
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*The Beatles...collecting their records is a fascinating hobby. And, the music's pretty doggoned good, too. "Hey Jude" is my Most Favorite of All Songs.

*The Moody Blues...they've just been too important a part of my life, and many of their songs sum up how I feel about things. I love 'em.

*The Rolling Stones...well, I'm not a Stones' fan, not really, but they get points for sheer attitude; I kinda think they were the first Punk Band.

*Deep Purple, Black Sabbath, Grand Funk Railroad...Those bands got me through the early '70s; they're like Old Friends to me.

*Kansas and Styx: Two groups whose melodic and intricate music always grabbed hold of my ears when I put them on the Stereo.

*Crosby, Stills and Nash (with or without Young): Their harmonies soothe these tired ears. And Neil Young Tells It Like It Is. And I've just bought his newest album (just released), "Fork In The Road". It, too, is great.

*Chicago: Although I can't stand a lot of their '80s and '90s stuff, they made some fine music (especially in the '70s), and I dig the brass arrangements, the three different vocalists, and just the Huge Sound of that band. They could Roll.

*Other Artists I can't live without (in no order of preference): Creedence, The Bee Gees, The Pretenders, U2, Genesis, Bloodrock, America, Bread, Steppenwolf, Lobo, Jefferson Airplane, Miles Davis, Weather Report, Camel (European band), Titanic (Another European Band), Brian Auger's Oblivion Express, War, Eric Burdon and the Animals, The Yardbirds, Renaissance, Santana, Mahavishnu Orchestra, Badfinger, Dave Brubeck, Love (led by Arthur Lee, R.I.P.), The Byrds, Sugarloaf, Roy Orbison, ZZ Top, Jimi Hendrix, Rush, Rare Earth, Allman Bros. Band, Aerosmith, The Beach Boys, The Kinks, Blue Oyster Cult, Elton John, Captain Beyond, Cream, Led Zeppelin, The Buckinghams, Herman's Hermits, Dave Clark Five, Steve Miller Band, George Thorogood and the Destroyers, Vanilla Fudge, Fleetwood Mac, Yes, Captain Beyond, Neil Diamond, The Guess Who, April Wine, R.E.M., Procol Harum, Elvis Presley, The Status Quo, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, The Doors, Bob Seger, Pink Floyd and so many others. These artists (and others like these) are Safe from me, the Grim Musical Reaper...

But watch out, Jackson Browne, Bruce Springsteen, Jimmy Buffett, James Taylor, Billy Joel and other similar self-important singer/songwriters of your ilk; if I don't get rid of all your records, I'll be thinning them out, keeping (what I think)are the best ones. Me, I like all the attendant 'ear candy' of a Group Playing Well Together; I like good lyrics, but for me, those lyrics must come equipped with compelling music. And good music always saves a song with Bad Lyrics (such as with 'Keep On Lovin' You' by REO Speedwagon...a shlocky love song, but the band plays with lots of conviction...). So, Olivia Neutron-Bomb, Carly Simon, Janis Ian, Carole King and others...prepare for some thinning of the ranks in days and months (and years?) to come...
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I think CD's are about as far as I'm gonna advance myself here in this Digital Age; I realize there are Ipods and MP3's, but I don't wanna chain myself to one of those things. F'cryin' out loud, I still have 8-track tapes and cassettes, after all. That's me, the Dinosaur, heading off to languish in the tar-pits...