GEORGE HARRISON...gone now for 8 years...

...living on within you and without you...

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Some people may not think so, but I thought George's Beatles songs were at least pretty good, and in some cases, were better than most of John and Paul's contributions. Harrison, of course, had to really fight to get his one or two songs per record, and many of his songs of that era were rejected, ending up on "All Things Must Pass", when he decided to go it Solo.

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Some of my favorite Harrison-Beatles tracks include "Don't Bother Me", "If I Needed Someone", "While My Guitar Gently Weeps", "I Want To Tell You", "Within You Without You, "Savoy Truffle", "Something", "Here Comes The Sun" and "Taxman". He wrote some not-too-good stuff, too, as did Lennon & McCartney. (L & M's "Tell Me What You See", for instance.)

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Anyway, on Sunday, November 29th, George will have been gone for 8 years. Cancer got him. So Don't Smoke, or if you Do Smoke, QUIT NOW. Anyway, here's a testament to George, on the Hollywood Walk Of Fame...

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There's another new post below this one, but I feel George had to have his own space here. It's the least I can do, for one of my Absolute Heroes.

A LAST-MINUTE POST OF SOME SIGNIFICANCE...
...hurry up, crank it out, another deadline approaches...
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According to the clock on the wall, I have a couple of hours left before midnight, so I'm using that time frame to get this posting done so I'll have my customary two blogs a week turned in. It feels like Extra Creit Work, though. It's not for a class and I'm sure not making any money here. So anyway, bear with me as I try to make some sense of various stuff...
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ISN'T CAPITALISM FUN?: I went to a Wal-Mart store on Thanksgiving Day afternoon, looking to find needed to pick up those paper CD envelopes that I couldn't find elsewhere in town, which is why I'll go to Wal-Mart in the first place. You've gotta admit, they have everything. And, it was just about the perfect day to go to one of those impersonal monolithic centers of commerce. Why? There were only a scattered few customers in there; can you imagine that...a quiet, orderly Wal-Mart? The feeling I get when I go there is one of Inferiority. The ceiling's high, the store shelves are high, the floor plan stretches out forever, there's something like 200 cash registers up front, and the place is usually infested with customers, screaming kids, shouting Moms and Dads, and people who try to kill you with shopping carts, just missing you at the last second. It's easy to feel insignificant and thoroughly intimidated as one strolls thru Wal-Mart. Should I feel badly when I buy something there? In a way, Yeah, 'cos Wal-Mart is one of the most corrupt business institutions out there, but at the same time, hometown folks do work there. So yeah, I'll go to a Wal-Mart occasionally. Very Occasionally. Like, if I need to grab a few fuses at 2 in the morning when my stereo blows out (that actually happened).
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So, it was an instance of some parallel-universe following me around; it had to be. It turns out that a Wal-Mart located in Toronto had to phase itself out and close its big, monolithic doors, and that decision was supported in part by the Canadian Justice System, so said an AP report in today's newspaper. Did I mention this Wal-Mart was the first (and probably only) franchise in North America (and probably the world) to allow its workers to unionize? That's what happened. Wal-Mart ends up having to pay higher union wages, and face harsh scrutiny by the labor union if employees are mistreated, or heaven forbid, discriminated against. That never happens at Wally World, right? So they respond by closing their doors. I'd say someone's hand is in someone's pocket here. Now, Wal-Mart can ship all its merchandise back to the Big, Centrally-located monolithic Master Warehouse and then distribute its goods throughout the Wal-Mart chain. Plus, Wal-Mart can probably write off disastrous business expenses regarding the franchise it closed, and then use its winnings to build another Wal-Mart Right Next Door To You. That's Wal-Mart. The Store That Eats Its Young.
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ST. PETER: "How'd You Get Up Here?" NEW ARRIVAL: "Flu": Another topic in the newspaper pointed out how severe the Flu Can Be. An Oregon Man got this year's "h-1-something or other" flu virus and he almost died because of it. He'd waited a week before seeking medical attention, and was soon totally incapicitated, with the flu wreaking such a wreck of his body that he had to be put on some sort of heart-bypass machine due to severe infection of the heart itself. He lost 25 pounds, and was taken to 3 different medical facilities, including an ambulance ride from Eugene to Portland. What I was looking for in the article was a list of symptoms he'd experienced. The article didn't go that far, but medical personnel said that without the bypass machine, the guy would've died. When I used to wonder, as a kid, "How Can people die because of the flu"? Well, It Can Happen. Something about the aging process...
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I had a (faintly) similar experience in '06 when I was hit by a devastating (flu?) bug. At age 52. Rather Old. I should've gone to the hospital. Instead I toughed it out at home and it was literally three weeks before I could leave my house. I couldn't walk for more than a few feet at a time. Three years later, I'm still not the same. Did I come close to death? I don't know. I do know I've had balance problems ever since. I'd mentioned to the therapist that I'd felt dizzy and weak off and on since, and that was maybe caused by the virus my body incubated. She said that supposition makes sense, since virii can invade the ears and affect one's equilibrium. That was the first time I had felt Really Fragile. I know a guy who has a Service Dog, because he has balance problems. I don't have a dog. Why? You don't have to feed or clean up after a Walking Stick. Anyway, this guy can see, but he has a hard time keeping his balance. At the physical therapist's office, I was given a sort of medical-survey thing to fill out, and one of the questions on there is "Do you think people will think you're drunk?" Well, Yeah. I can see it now...
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Cop: "I need you to walk this line for 87 feet, heel-toe, and recite the alphabet backwards at the same time." Me: "Sir, I can't pass this test, because I have Vertigo and it makes me lose my balance". Cop: "Yeah, rrrright, buddy. You'll do anything to avoid charges..."
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THE WORST BEATLES SONG OF ALL: Without a doubt, it's "Revolution 9" (On the "White Album"). There's really no music in it; John, Yoko and George Harrison provided the oblique verbage that zigzags in and out of the track (well, you can't really call it a "song"), overlaying all sorts of radio-frequency noise for over 8 minutes. "Revolution 9" will never be stuck inside your head when you hear it, so it'll never become an Earworm, right? Well, Not Exactly. I was in a Dairy Queen this evening, and you know how they shout the order numbers, well, all of a sudden a loud voice boomed out of the kitchen, "NUMBER NINE!!!" and, all of a sudden, there it was, ringing in my brain, "Number 9, Number 9, Number 9"...which of course is how "Revolution 9" starts out. John Lennon made a tape loop of a recording engineer announcing "Number 9" of whatever track was being recorded at the time. "Number 9, Number 9, Number 9, Number 9, Number 9..."(okay, I'll stop).
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FOR THE RECORD: While blog-surfing this evening, I ran across a blog about Sound Recording, and a blogger stated that the Inner Tracks of Record Albums, those close to the label, suffer more wear than the Outer tracks, closer to Record's Edge. Why? Because on the LP's inner tracks, it takes less distance to Revolve; less plastic is navigated by the needle, causing more repetitive wear in the grooves. That makes sense, and besides, I have got Great Ears, and I've always thought that on old LP's, sometimes the fidelity inner-in IS worse, the dynamic sound range isn't as much, and basically, the outer cuts sounded less scratchy. Of course, the outer tracks on old LPs are usually the ones with the most scratch damage, usually caused by manually setting the tone arm on the record's intake groove, so all that evens out, I suppose. I understand that adjustments were made by the various record companies to try and give the inner tracks a little 'boost' so they'd sound as clean as the outside tracks.
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On the track "I Want You (She's So Heavy)", the last song on side 1 of The Beatles' "Abbey Road"album, as the track progressed with that long bonecrunching guitar riff, John and George recorded a stack of guitar tracks for it, on top of which was inserted a bunch of "White" (read: "Irritating") noise, and after 3 or 4 minutes, John Lennon ordered the Engineer to "Cut The Tape", resulting in the song being chopped off, followed by total silence. I've had that album in my record collection for years, and I Still don't know when the end of "I Want You" is coming up. Listening to that track's end repeatedly Can Give You Musical Whiplash. You can always count measures until the song ends, and I've done that a couple of times. I think that guitar riff goes around probably about 30 times, with the "White Noise" increasing at the end to where it sounds as if there's a Hurricane Blowing in the studio. Then, SNIP!!!! and, Just Like That, the song ends. So, if THAT particular 'Inner Track' had low fidelity because of "more wear", it's impossible to tell, because of the Concentrated noise being layered on that song to begin with. WHOOOSH!!!
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Finally, How Many Grooves are on a Record Album? The answer is TWO. One groove per side. And once, in a joke book, I ran across this little Gem of Humor: Two guys were watching women walk up and down the sidewalk, when one guy commented, "Hey, check this out, she's built like a Record Player". "What Do You Mean?" "well, she's 33-45-78". Okay, okay I'll end this blogpost before the Rotten Tomatoes start flying...but before I go...look at the Time I Posted This entry...9:09pm!!! Number 9...number 9...number 9...

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 14th, 1999...

...my last day at a job I absolutely loved...

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Maybe I shouldn't have loved that job, though. I was subordinate to two individuals, one of whom was intimidating with that big booming voice of his, and the other was a young kid with obvious talent who always talked down to me. So, I was basically a part-timer, always trying to prove myself, to get more hours, doing a job I loved, although I also felt I was being used. On that job, I basically got the duties no one else wanted. This job was in the field of Radio Broadcasting. I loved it; I craved it, and I continued to be a part of it, in spite of the fact that I was used every single day Between September, 1996, and November 14th, 1999, my last radio shift. Ever. I got absolutely no respect in the three-and-a-half years I worked there. Ten Years have passed since I left that job. Sometimes the only control a person has over a situation is to Leave. Which I did. Sometimes it's beneficial to not get too attached to something; it can be taken away just like that...

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As you've seen here in this blog, I can write, and write prolifically. Once, though, I was asked by my big boss to come in between 3am and 5 am to write news copy for the guy who was substituting for him on the morning shift (the Big Boss would soon go on vacation)...I balked at the offer, because I was already pulling shifts at night, some of them as late as midnight. And then I was supposed to come in on a couple hours sleep for a 2-hour shift? My big boss, who obviously had no tact whatsoever, shouted at me, "IF YOU DON'T WANNA DO IT, I'LL FIND SOMEBODY TO DO IT!!!" So I caved in and agreed to do the damn morning shifts, because, after all, I was trying to Prove My Worth To The Company. This is the same Boss who had complimented me thusly: "You Aren't Very Talented, but You Sure Are Dedicated." He actually said that. I can cite many other instances where I was treated in similar fashion...and I've cited but a few of them in this posting.

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The kid I wrote about in the first paragraph had a run-in with management. He quit, and all of a sudden, I was getting a LOT of hours. I was still doing the night shift, plus I was doing all kinds of program maintenance stuff (the stuff no one else wanted to do) in the afternoons. I felt that I was "Movin' On Up". About a year later, the radio station got sold to a big broadcasting company which owned scads of Radio Stations all over the dial. And when the management changed, the Kid Who Had Quit, was re-employed, which resulted in my hours being cut drastically. After working so long at 40 or more hours a week, I was lucky to get 8 to 10 hours a WEEK, which was roughly the amount of hours I got when I started the job in 1996. I hung on gamely, because I wanted to be a vital part of that radio station. In a nutshell, my hours to begin with were virtually "nil", but increased after a while, when the "kid" left, and I found out a week before I quit that my hours were going to get reduced once again. The "kid's" hours didn't get cut. But mine sure did. "Phasing out", they call it in these politically-correct times...

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I'd come in to do my shift when my Big Boss said my hours were being cut back, that they couldn't afford to keep me, after I'd sweated, toiled, and had work-related nervous breakdowns so complete that I began developing welts on my skin along with increased migraine headaches. As I sat thru my shift that night, I began feeling Absolutely Sick. No, it wasn't the flu bug; it was a burning, nauseating feeling which intensified upon Finally Realizing Nothing I Could Do would make any difference. We're talking about 3 and a half years here. Wasted Energy, Wasted Time. The job was in the city I used to call Home, and I was ejected, just like that. The next day, I gave a week's notice to my Big Boss, and he wasn't pleased with that, but then again, he wasn't pleased with anything I did anyway.

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I've since followed my former Big Boss' career, and a few years later, the radio station got rid of him. Then he was doing some sort of pseudo-broadcast for a newspaper (sounds weird, I know), and was laid off from that position after a few months; then he got a job at a bigger radio station in another market, and after a while, he was let go from that situation as well. Sure, I don't want anyone's family to starve, but at the same time, the thot runs thru my mind that "it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy"...(sarcasm there...) He got what he deserved. Just as he harrassed me, it turned out that other co-workers endured that, too. He had a great radio voice, but was totally without any kind of charm or character; he liked to bully people to get his way. At least that's how I felt. I can't begin to enumerate all the times he called up the radio station (he had afternoons off) and screamed at me for One Thing Or Another. He is a classic case of overbearing Ego combined with a violent temper. And his loud voice didn't make things any easier.

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After the radio station got bought out by the Big Company, some of its management people were working out of the office inthe building where I worked. Shortly after the takeover, my Big (Loud) Boss and I had an 'encounter' (putting it mildly), in which again he got loud and overbearing, and I told him to his face, "things are different now. I can actually go to management and complain about you." His reaction to that? He went over to where my schedule was posted and RIPPED my hours off the wall, slamming the door as he left. My Dad used to yell at me like that and I took it and took it and took it. No one will ever yell at me again. Not Ever. I will go so far as to say that my big boss was one of the biggest Bozos I have ever had to endure. He intimidated me to the point that I had difficulty even talking to him, trying to get my point across. He could open up that endlessly overbearing, ultra-loud voice of his and Shout Me Down, which he did. A LOT. I had quit the job early on, because of him, but upon realizing me that I'd never be able to get a job anywhere else, I went back with my tail tucked between my legs and got the job back. And it only got worse.

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If any of the players in this story read this, They Will Know Who They Are. No need to name names here, although I'm tempted. I admit I have a terrible voice for Broadcasting. My personality doesn't suit the business either. And I was dedicated, even during that harsh first winter when I was working another part-time job, and trying to hang on to the radio job as well, all 8 to 10 hours a week of it that I was being given then. I loved that job, in spite of all the crap I had to take. But I guess maybe I wasn't that talented. Actually, I've always known that, so I tried to show my dedication, such as the night when I walked a half-mile to the radio station in the middle of a winter night when sleet had filled up the satellite dish, resulting in the station losing the precious signal. Climbing a tall ladder, I used an extra-long broom to push out the sleet so our station could once again receive a radio signal. I didn't want any compensation for doing that. I just hoped that incident would make everyone see that I was valuable. Guess not, huh?

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I worked evenings and weekends; all the hours no one else wanted. After being there 'til midnight on Saturdays, I turned around and came in early Sunday mornings to try and respectfully present all of the Church Programs which the station aired. Those programs were called "The God Shows" by my Big Boss. I always thot that was a sort-of 'put-down', but I never said anything. Later on down the line, a separate FM station was added by the Organization, which was headquarted in the building where I worked. I had radio skills, I always ran a tight board, and had generally good rapport with the FM staff. I was a fan of rock music, and they all knew that, but do you think I was ever asked to work on the FM station? Noooooo. That one always kinda hurt, although (again) I never said anything to anyone at the time. I coulda used the extra hours, seeing as how I was Barely Surviving, just to keep my radio employment intact, settling for whatever crumbs the job tossed my way.

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You hear about kids wanting to be firemen or whatever...I wanted to work in Radio ever since I was 10 years old. While I was working in radio, I always knew a part of me wasn't cut out for it. But I tried just the same. I can't pound nails or do complicated math and I don't deal well with the competitive world. My best times at that radio station were nights, when I was left alone to do my job, surrounded by tape recorders, turntables, CD players, a radio mixing board in front of me as our signal was transmitted to who-knows-how-many listeners. I suffered for my art, greatly. Without any kind of respect. Oftentimes when I listen to a radio station, my mind takes me back ten years to when I quit that last radio job. I loved the job, but finally, finally, finally, I couldn't take it anymore. My Dad had a saying: "They'll ride a good horse to death". I was that horse. Hee-Haw, I guess...

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The title of a Led Zeppelin song comes to mind: "Ten Years Gone", and that's how this whole thing feels. If this blog is a portrayal of various facets of my life, then this ten-year mark was an appropriate time to hang out all the dirty linen. I was thankful to work at that radio station, but that wasn't enough. Amazing, what I've had to go thru to get to this point in my life. Every Day I see people working at crap jobs, trying to maintain a good attitude. It ain't easy, y'know?

A BRIEF OVERVIEW OF MY "JUNK MAIL"...
...A case of Spam-o-pheric Ruminations...

Consumer advisory: This post gets just a wee-bit racy towards the end. Read at your own risk. And now, back to the post, already in progress...
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Most weekdays, I get a slew of Junk mail. It's reminds me of digging up weeds; you finally extract those deep-rooted dandelions, and the next time you look at the yard, it's got twice as many. That's the way it is with my Junk Mail Yahoo inbox. I've tried replying to them; I've spent long, lonely nights trying to unsuscribe, which is useless, because when you send 'em an "unsuscribe" notice, that informs the Junk Mail Website(s) that there is indeed a Warm Body At This Address which they've spammed for decades and have no intention of stopping it now! Listed below are the 'Subject' lines of some spamminations I've recently received, along with what I'd like to send to the jerkfaced idiots who sent 'em to me. Join me in a tour of how I'd like to respond to some of the Junk Mail I get. And awaaay we go...
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"WORK AT HOME INCOME": Are YOU sending out idiotic solicitations like THIS ONE, from your own home? Maybe I can get a home job and spam you BACK!

"WANT TO GET IN RAGIN'?": Depends on what you're trying to get me into, I guess...I suppose that I would want to make sure I could get back out...

"SEARCH FOR CHEATING WIVES": Okaaay...hey, isn't your wife home right now? What's her number? Where does she hang out? And why is she married to a moron like you?

"OFFICIAL NOTIFICATION: $1,000 WAL-MART GIFT CARD": Wow! A Wal-Mart Gift Card! That means I can add one visit to the customary two or three times a year I actually go to a Wal-Mart monolith. Seriously, those stores are larger than Aircraft Hangars...

"YOU HAVE 1 INVITE ENCLOSED": Let me invite YOU to take this e-mail and insert it forcefully in a body cavity normally navigated by a Proctologist!

"SOMEONE SENT YOU A DATING SITE MEMBERSHIP": What, you want me to spend money getting into your site before I spend thousands on high-maintenance dates? No thanks, if I'm gonna strike out with women, I'd rather do it on my own.

"HAVE YOU TAKEN THE ACNE MEDICINE ACCUTANE? IMPORTANT LAWSUIT INFORMATION ENCLOSED": Well, it looks like all the greasy-faced teenagers out there whose cheeks (facial) resemble the Moon's Cratered Surface can find a way to SUE now!

"TRY ENZYTE RISK-FREE AND BE HAPPY": I'm kinda thinkin' that if I tried Enzyte and it didn't work, I wouldn't be very happy. And I'm afraid of the similar medication that rhymes with "Niagara"...the one which could cause one to be...uhhh...errr...'stimulated for 4 hours'...can't you visualize a doctor who greets his patient thusly: "Is that a 2x4 in your front pocket or are you just glad to see me?"

Okay, okay, you get the idea. I guess I'm in for it should some Career Spammer read this post. I guess there are legions upon legions of low-rent muddy trailer-park people out there who send spam day-in and day-out to support their Meth habits.

Well...this is a first; I went for more than a week without blogging. I'll try not to let that happen again. I've thought about this subject for a while, and I finally had to do something about it so it wouldn't annoyingly bounce around in my brain any longer.

ANOTHER SEASON DONE GONE...
...but there's always next year, right?
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When I became aware that the New York Yankees would be one of the teams in the '09 World Series, I thought they'd probably win it. No, I'm not a Yankees fan, but that doesn't matter; I like watching good baseball no matter who's playing it. So, they won the World Series this year, and Alex Rodriguez redeemed himself; he had a slew of important hits which helped him and his team-mates to grab the great big gold trophy once again. It's been 9 years since they were World Series champions, and the only way to describe this latest Series is that The Yankees outlasted the Phillies. The Yankees had a bit more depth than the Phils, and I had thought the Yankees would would win in 7, so I wasn't too far off the mark; it only took them 6 games, but watching the Series was like seeing two great boxers slug it out. Bam. Wham. Biff. Pow. Cassius Clay and Sonny Listen all over again.
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I'm not the type of person who looks like a Sports Fan, but I am. I think that stems from my younger days, living at home, watching Sports on Sunday Afternoons after a big Sunday dinner. I remember being a San Francisco 49'ers fan way back when John Brodie was quarterback. I remember Tony Lema, who won his share of golf tournaments; Tony died in a plane crash before his true greatness could be fully realized. Arnold Palmer was still playing good golf then; I remember his fans were called "Arnie's Army", while Lema's followers were dubbed, "Lema's Legion". I can't remember what Jack Nicklaus' fans were called, but he was playing great too. Back to baseball, I saw Stan Musial's last at-bat in the mid-sixties (he hit a fly-ball which was caught by an outfielder). I remember watching Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris, Sandy Koufax, and Pete Rose (he should be admitted to the Hall of fame, with an asterisk). He was a great player who made mistakes. Bad mistakes, yes. But his stats are otherworldly.
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I hate for things to be "over". As Roger Whittaker once sang, "When they begin the overture, they start to end the show". Baseball season, sometimes known as The Big Show, has Just Ended. In addition, Football's already completed 1/3 of its current season. In both sports, there's a big end-all game which determines the champion. So that gets done, and what's left? When you've won the PGA, or the Super Bowl, or the (tennis) Grand Slam, or Hockey, Soccer or Pro basketball championships, what's left? What now? What Keeps 'em going? (Well, I guess Big Fat Contracts have something to do with it.) Still, Yogi Berra once said, "It ain't over 'til its over". Well, it's over. Until the time when it starts again. And soon it will be Over Again. What's going on here? I'll tell ya; it's that unquenchably-devouring mechanism called "Time". It's eating us alive, as you are reading this, as I am typing this. Writing posts like this one brings to mind a Neil Diamond song:

...and each one there, has one thing shared
They've sweated 'neath the same sun
Looked up in wonder at the same moon
And wept when it was all done, for being done too soon
For being done...
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So sometimes, the passing of time (and it seems to pass more rapidly as the years go by), causes me to ruminate. Although if I do that too much, I'll go insane. One day at a time, I guess. And I can't wait for Next Season to get started. Go Mariners!

THE CASE OF THE RUNAWAY PICKUP TRUCK:

Oh my gosh...The Darned Thing had a Mind of Its Own!!!

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Tonight, I saw an ABC-TV "Nightline" report about Toyota cars that have an inclination to speed up at speeds at or above, 100mph, and evidently this whole "runaway Toyota" thing is happening more and more all the time. Generally speaking, here's what happens: A Toyota's gas panel sends electronic signals to the Car's Computer, and obviously, the right signals aren't being sent, slamming the car into sudden, unpreventable, out-of-control speeds approaching The Speed Of Light. People have been killed due to this auto-malfunction .This brings back to mind an incident about 30 years ago (can it really be that long ago?) when I was driving to work early one morning, and my little Datsun Truck's throttle all of a sudden became stuck wide open at top speed; it literally felt like the engine was gonna pop outta my truck...

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I was afraid to take it into town with the engine still running at Full-Speed-Ahead...the only thing I could do was stay on the highway and punch the foot pedal; I'd hit the gas, and then lay-off. When I popped it into neutral, the engine just raced harder; I didn't see that as an option. After several such cycles of mashing and grinding the gas pedal, my truck's little lawn-mower engine at last came to its senses. Phew! Anyway, if you're driving a Toyota which all of a sudden starts charging ahead at speeds approaching the Sound Barrier, put the car into Neutral, brake to a stop, and shut off your killer machine. That's what the Expert on the "Nightline" show just said. Oh, and try not to freak out when your car misbehaves. Like I almost did when my truck's engine threatened to leap out from under the hood. A scary moment indeed.

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I used to love that ol' Datsun pickup; it had a camper shell on the back, the added weight of which made the truck more drivable in Winter. One summer, I put a small mattress in the back and went to the Coast, and slept in the back at various campsites. On weekends, I used to take my little Orange Pickup up into the mountains and tool around on all the logging roads. Once I went down a logging road that Dead-Ended. With no place to turn around, I had to back-up for about a quarter-mile, with a steep dropoff lurking just outside my Drivers' Side Window. You kinda wanna avoid situations like that way up there in the National Forest.

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I finally had to get rid of the Pickup...although it was the then-standard Datsun Orange in color, it was fast turning into a Lemon...it began gobbling up fuses and shorting out. But it was a fun little vehicle. Super-easy on gas, too.