Baby Birds Learning To Fly

It's nailbite city here with the birds learning to fly. I think there's all these millions of birds out in nature doing whatever, why should I care what happens to the ones right around here?

But it's been a busy time with the baby birds being kicked out of the nest, then flopping around and not knowing what to do. The parents seem beside themselves, raising a racket, acting crazy when we're out there.

My dog attacked a baby bird, which I didn't know was going to happen or it wouldn't have. But it looked like the bird got away with no serious damage. I pulled the leash right away. Except then he wasn't flying, just hanging around. At one point it looked like he was stuck by the garage. So I went out and he flew back into the open where the parents could see him.

Today there was one that looked like he was stuck in the fence. So I went nearby and my being close scared him into getting away. Then I was away and came home. There was a rabbit jumping in front of the car, like he never would veer off. And all of a sudden a baby bird jumps up and hits the front of the car and I don't know what happened. It looked like he went to the left, and I went over there later and he wasn't anywhere around.

But they're out there, by the windows, on the fence, and the parents are busy squawking, so it's a very trying time for them. Good thing there aren't that many cats out or there'd be no survivors.

Flying is a great ability to have. Too bad they have to learn and get geared up for it.

Sirens

I've heard a couple excessive-sounding sirens today. Sometimes I think the police are just big kids who like the thrill of turning on the siren. They're out there playing just like we did when we were kids.

Mr. Food

We were at a restaurant and somehow got on the subject of Mr. Food, the lovable cook from local TV news. Since then I looked him up online and he's got quite a TV empire going, with something over 100 channels across the country, a full blown studio and everything that any guy would want.

That's interesting. I knew he couldn't be from around here, since everywhere I ever go I see him on TV. His catch phrase of "Ooh, it's so good" is also famous, his bread and butter, so to speak, and it's an officially registered "sound mark," according to his website. It says it's one of only 25 sound marks registered. Can that be? We have "sound marks" and somehow there's only 25? I need to register the one of me hollering downstairs to my wife to bring me a roll of toilet paper. "Hurry up, Mildred!"

Sorry for that little indiscretion. I'm obviously under the misconception that I'm being paid by the word here. When the fact is, I'm not being paid at all. Unlike Mr. Food, no doubt. 100 and some channels, 30 years, beloved cook, he has to be bringing in some big bucks. I hope he lasts another 30, but like everyone he can't go on forever. So that'll be a sad day.

The reason we were talking about him was I was imagining what if his name really was Mr. Food, like Samuel L. Food or something. And a lion escaped from the zoo and ate him. The headline would be, "Lion Eats Food," and everyone would go, Yeah, what do you expect them to eat?

But the lion in this case goes, "Ooh, it's so tough!"

Iron King - Episode 20

I can't believe I just finished episode 20 of the Japanese TV series "Iron King." That means I have just six episodes to go. I think I'm going to miss it, even though the premise of the episodes does tire me out a little.

There's a lot of Gentaro whipping the big old robots with a metallic whip he has, that, incidentally, has a miraculous reach. And once you've seen that 20 to 50 times, two or three times per episode, you've basically seen it. And Iron King getting the crap beat out of him ... until he finally prevails. In episode 20 the big monster Kabutoron was holding him upside down and pounding him up and down, his head smashing the ground ... must have been 10 or 15 times, while Gentaro prepared a bunch of gas balloons that would have something to do with Kabutoron being exploded.

Still, I'm going to miss it. Six episodes to go.

In episode 20, this is what I wanted to mention, there's an absurd amount of fighting in the snow. The Titanians from outer space have inhabited the bodies of some Japanese peasants. And they fight, fight, fight, minute after agonizing minute. Finally they become their Titanian selves.

One thing about the Titanians, these guys are scary, the scariest of Gentaro and Goro's opponents in the series. They are from outer space and have some greater abilities than the other enemies. They don't just have big monsters, they become the big monsters. The poison gas in the balloons was a pretty nasty looking power too. But fortunately they're dispatched in much the same way as the other monsters, through Gentaro and Iron King finally getting their act together and exploding them somehow.

American Idol Scam

OK, now we know. Adam was cheated out of winning American Idol by the show's corporate sponsors.

The NY Times is reporting it today that there were some shenanigans afoot, power texting in apparent violation of the rules. Remember that little print at the end of every show, about certain voting practices being prohibited?

Somehow, despite everything, Kris Allen prevailed. The biggest upset, etc. As it turns out it wasn't an upset. It was corporate robbery.

Well, they won't have to vote as many times next year to railroad whoever they're for in, because they won't have my votes to compete with. One person with a cellphone voting the normal way. There's no reason to even watch a show that's a scam.

St. Raphael The Archangel

I got a free laminated Catholic devotion card today. Even though I'm not Catholic, sometimes I like to see these cards.

It definitely shows how anyone can be pigeonholed, typecast, even an archangel.

OK, he's St. Raphael the Archangel. In ancient, biblical literature, he only appears by name in the Book of Tobit. I looked it up, and Tobit is a guy who goes blind because some birds poop in his eyes. So he must have been a very sound sleeper. Raphael at some point heals him.

So that's what we know of Raphael, and the prayer to Raphael on the back of the card zeroes in on this one tiny detail, which had to have been only one minor episode in the life of a whole archangel.

It says, "I beg you, assist me in all my needs and in all the sufferings of this life, as you once helped the young Tobias on his travels." Raphael goes, "If I hear that story one more time, I'm going to strike you with blindness, not cure it." That's just my humorous description of what would have to be frustration with being known for such a small thing.

The card allows for more miracles than just counteracting the blinding properties of bird poop. It says, "I especially ask of you the favor (name it) and the great grace of purity...." etc. So name the favor!

Wow, It's Hot

It's really hot today. In the winter I forget how hot it gets in spring and especially summer. I'm sitting here with a sweaty forehead. The windows are open, but everything is very stuffy.

I guess it's about time to turn on the air conditioner. Just got done paying the heating bill.

Or I could be like the pioneers, which I don't know what they did precisely. Maybe they stripped down to their raccoon hats and sat under a shade tree. You're never too sure what the pioneers did. When I hear that they needed to take the wheels off their wagon and float it across every stream they came to, I'm thinking they were capable of anything.

But I like getting places. And to think of a journey that takes three or four months, wow.

It's hot.

Crazy Guy Alert

I like to document all those times in my life when I'm suddenly glommed on to by a crazy guy. It happened again today.

I was minding my business, taking the dog down by the lake. I'd just gotten out of the car, headed for a bench, and I didn't make it, before a guy on a bike pulled up and started talking to me. At first it was OK, then I realized it was a crazy guy who wasn't going to leave. This became even more obvious after he'd been there 10 minutes, going from one subject to another.

The dog took a poop and he was calling it a landmine that he wouldn't want to step on. But it wasn't there long, a few seconds, before I cleaned it up. The dog did the scratching of the grass, like wiping her paws, and the guy thought she was trying to bury it. He told a few dog stories of his own, including one about a dog that had been neutered and probably wondered what happened to his missing parts. Then blah blah blah...proving to be endless.

We expressed the desire to take a walk and that's the only thing that dislodged him from our presence.

30 Days

For some unknown reason I'm thinking of the old Chuck Berry song, "30 Days." I haven't heard it for a number of years. I have a Chuck CD but it's not a good one. Now that I think of it I might have more than one. I'll go check...be back...

Nope, I just have that one crummy CD. It's a "Best of" that is from Japan, and an old budget CD from the '80s. It doesn't tell you it's either re-recordings or concert versions of his songs. So you can tell it's a loser.

I see it does have the song "Thirty Days," spelled out like that.

Here's what I remember of the lyrics: "I'm gonna give you 30 days to get back home." Bringing up the question, Why so generous with the timeframe there of 30 days? I would hate to wait around for 30 days for someone to get back home. I suppose if they're an astronaut or Arctic explorer, Shackleberry or Shackleford, that's only fair.

Then here's another snippet: "I'm gonna send out a worldwide hoodoo, that'll be the only thing that'll suit you, I'm gonna see that you be back home in 30 days." So, there's a worldwide hoodoo involved, meaning that maybe the 30 days is necessary. She might be in Tibet, studying at the feet of whoever's left over there. Or in the Andes, buying mints. Or floating on the Amazon, looking for rare books. Or in Australia trying to find out what the Australian word for "Beehh" is.

A hoodoo, I'm taking that for a ruckus or a call that is bound to be heard, talked about and effective. It will "suit you," maybe meaning she needs quite the persistent persuasion to get back home in 30 days.

No More American Idol

Do you believe I'm off American Idol? That I'm not going to watch it anymore? That's true.

That's how peeved I am that they couldn't find a way to make Adam Lambert the winner. And when I quit watching something, it's not only dead to me, as far as I know it's dead.

Take Survivor for an example. Survivor is dead to me. Not through any offense they committed, unlike American Idol, but just out of boredom with it. I was having a hard time getting interested. It would take me up to about the seventh week to know the people's names, etc. Then it was the same old same old same old same old .... all the time.

So one day I said That's it, and I quit watching it, and I never went back. And since the CBS station is only on at our house once in a blue moon (this is true), I never seen promos for it or anything. Somewhere online one day I think I saw evidence that Survivor is still on.

American Idol ... it's had its day as far as I'm concerned. I liked it. I started watching it in like the fourth season. Whichever season V___ Solomon (she was a woman contestant) was on. She was the first person I saw singing on American Idol. I think her name was Vonselle. I liked her right away but she didn't make it too far.

Since then I've been a regular viewer, even though they do tend to get a few duds in there. I actually thought Kris Allen was one of the duds along the way, but he surprised me by hanging on and eventually winning. I still think he's a dud ... but a lot of people like him.

So that's it. When I quit something, it's quit. Cold turkey, no need for nicotine patches. It's all willpower and determination.

Rechargeable Batteries

I've discovered something that the battery companies have no doubt been trying to cover up for years, rechargeable batteries.

I've been doing a project in the last month and a half -- digitizing old papers, class notes, ephemera -- then shredding the originals. I was buying regular batteries for my camera, which was costing a fortune as it ripped through them at lightning speed.

Then I saw these things called rechargeable batteries, and I thought, Ahh, you gotta be kidding me. We used to put batteries in the refrigerator to recharge them, but, being a myth, it didn't really do any good. They were too cold. So I got a battery operated battery warmer, but I was wasting so many batteries warming up the cold ones that became a vicious circle.

Anyway, I bought a couple sets of four of these rechargeable batteries. And so far, so good. They actually work. I feel that I've been saving money. Actually, I haven't photo'ed any documents since 5/12 or 5/13, so I'm saving all kinds of money, not buying new batteries and also not wearing down my rechargeables or wasting money on electricity to recharge them.

Time For Bed

I was up and busy all day. I got up, like always, at 5:30 a.m. And it's been pretty much non-stop. One thing after another.

And I'm tired ... and cranky ... after American Idol. I think it's very likely, though, that one good side effect of this is to save me plenty of time next season. I'm not one to make a lot of "idol" threats -- but even when I'm enjoying it I'm still thinking, I could be reading or something.

I've had the ones I liked lose before. But they weren't as brilliant as Adam Lambert. Nobody is. The guy is definitely one of a kind. And what do we get, the kind of guy who's a dime a dozen. Indistinguishable from millions. This is one we don't forget.

I missed the first few seasons of American Idol and didn't feel like I really missed anything. So all I might be doing is reverting to my original intent, that I have plenty of other things to keep me occupied. We'll see what January brings.

Drat

I believe this Tuesday is the fourth Tuesday in a row where I've had something to do during American Idol. So once again, I'll have to watch a recording of it later.

Big Workout Tonight

I've been putting off and missing my evening workouts at the fitness club lately.

But tonight I decided to get out there. It might help that I had a very busy day. I had a list of tasks that had to be accomplished and I checked right through them with blazing efficiency. And that even included a few detours I hadn't expected. It took overtime but I got everything checked off.

When I brought home that record of achievement it seemed stupid to just sit down and make excuses about being "too tired" or whatever to avoid going to workout. It really helped in fact to think this would be just one more thing for me to do today, like I was Superman.

So I stormed out there, got on the treadmill, cranked up the music, and walked with rare determination. Then to the weight thing, then to the ab crunch thing. Bang, bang, bang.

A few more things to do tonight -- such as take the dog to the park, do the dishes, clean the catbox, etc. -- and I'll be ready for bed.

Boy Leg

Do I really have a blog called "Boy Leg"?

I must be living in a haze today. It just strikes me as funny that there's a blog on my list called that.

And yet of course I know it's there. What a weird name. I was with a dear loved one of mine one day while she was buying underwear and there was some called "boy leg cut" and I thought hmmm. I didn't originally know that but I've seen it referred to since, then that day as well.

What makes it boy leg underwear, I have learned, is that it's got a straight leg line across instead of going up with a V. So I'm learning things all the time.

It's been a weird day, topped off by an angry family member calling me, getting mad and hanging up. So everything is looking weird in the light of such shenanigans.

A Bunch Of Batteries

I saw a bunch of batteries at a garage sale today. Like a stack I've never seen, like super sized car batteries, but I wasn't looking closely.

I asked about them and she said they were for car stereos and demolition derbies.

Frank Sinatra

There's an interesting article on Frank Sinatra today online. I gotta say, I forget that Frank Sinatra has actual fans who are eager to hear whatever else there is left of his recorded output. It just doesn't occur to me in an ongoing way that they're out there. But God bless 'em, there they are.

So the article is a reminder, because I've heard it before but just space it off. It's definitely not my world to dwell in but theirs. To them he's The Voice, the greatest of the century, etc. The writer of this particular column even calls out Elvis, like Elvis might pretend to be the greatest of the century in the face of Frank. To me, personally, Elvis was a lot better than Frank, but I'm aware that I'm perpetually biased in Elvis' direction because of listening to him from my childhood.

As far as Frank was concerned, he was a guy that adults liked but seemed like an old guy by the time I paid any attention to him. And he had all those apparent unsavory connections that cemented it in my mind that he was someone I wouldn't want to be associated with. This is '60s and '70s stuff. I remember reading my grandmother's movie magazines about Frank and Mia Farrow, all that, and so he just didn't appeal to me.

But since then I've acquired a few Frank Sinatra CDs and have given him numerous shots. I've enjoyed them too, I must say. But really after a certain point it's just cranking out the same and more of the same, generic whatever with his own particular phrasing. Crystal clear, yes, but antiseptic and detached. There's not enough psychology in it. Reminds me of Bing Crosby who recorded songs on the golf course, then when he had that unpleasant task over with, got back to what he really wanted to do, which was play golf.

It's an interesting reminder, that there are all these songs out there, and that Frank's people are releasing them at a rate of one a year with another "Greatest Hits" collection that all his diehard fans already have. I like the column's point that in 12 to 13 years they might have an entire album of new material. Funny. It makes you wonder how someone could even become a Frank Sinatra completist now. You'd be scouring the earth forever to get all these tracks that are probably put out as limited editions, etc.

There's certain artists who have certain fans who don't give up their records easily. Which is why you hardly ever see a Frank Zappa record or CD in Goodwill. (They are there once in a while, but rarely.) Then you have all those ones that adults loved in the '50s and '60s but no one has loved since, and they're a dime a dozen, like Billy Vaughn, Englebert, Herb Alpert, and countless local, generic religious groups.

I'm rambling, but let me offer this point. You cannot be a self-respecting Goodwill store without at least five Herb Alpert records in stock at all times! And as for these countless local, generic religious groups of the past, you could collect them literally forever and still only have a tiny portion of the total output. The Happy Johnsons, The Server Sisters, The Lundstroms, the list is endless.

Let me conclude with one other point about Frank Sinatra and Elvis Presley. Whichever one is "best," one thing is true of each. Their estates and companies wish they had worked these guys like dogs when they were alive. They should have shown up every morning with a stack of demos and said you guys aren't leaving this room till you've recorded at least 12 songs a day.

Kris and Adam

I don't know if the foreordained-to-win Adam has it in the bag. I hope he does but I'm a natural pessimist when it comes to stuff I want. It takes some of the fun out of watching it. I prefer things after they're over and we've got the results.

But it seems to me that people would prefer Adam, generally. He's got super looks, a dynamic attitude, a great voice, etc. He's a knockout. I remember when I first saw one glimpse of him, I said I like that guy. And I haven't shifted from that for one second.

Liking someone so much, just like I said above, takes the fun out of watching it. Because it automatically made everyone else on the show, even from the beginning, a second class citizen. All I could see or hear in their performances -- not 100% of course -- was that they weren't as good. So you have a perfectly good guy, Danny Gokey, with a great family, a great voice, all the rest. And I wasn't able to warm up to him in the slightest because of this.

Even Kris. People talk about how "awesome" he is, and I'm like, What? Awesome? No way. But I guess he is pretty awesome, in a way. He can sing in a way that pleases people. He seems real good at playing instruments, the piano, the guitar. He has confidence to be out there. And somehow he ended up in the final two, so he's no slouch. Maybe I will grow to like him after this is all over.

But for now, it has to be Adam. Get him in there as the winner, then we can go back and like these other guys too.

Now, about Katy Perry, I thought that was stunning, the way she came out with the cape with Adam's name on it. I don't know how fair that was precisely, probably not very. I liked it -- don't get me wrong -- but you'd think American Idol the show would at least try to regulate too much favoritism.

All in all it was a beautiful thing. I loved it.

Go Cheney Go!

Come on, Dick, refuse to be silenced! These guys are just jealous of your abilities to tell it like it is! We still love you. You need to be out there telling it like it is.

You're the best hope the Republicans have. They will sink entirely without you. You and Rush. Keep on talking, please!

Apologists For Torture

I have a hard time believing there are so many outspoken apologists for torture, er, excuse me, "enhanced interrogations that are so enhanced that we actually prosecuted people for them as having committed torture in the past."

Good grief. The Bush administration has enough people willing to fall on a sword to cover for them, maybe we ought to hand out actual swords. It's not torture if it's suicide, is it? Ha ha.

Wow. I was listening to Frank Gaffney on Hardball, who of course is an apologist for everything and anything that Bush ever did. Cheney, too. Basically you get any aberrant behavior that these guys did, and you can count on Frank Gaffney to support it and explain it away.

But I notice, somehow he doesn't allow President Obama the same courtesy. Everything Obama does, Frank seems to think is exactly the wrong thing to do. That's strange. Here we have these Bush apologists who used to make the argument that everything the president does is right by virtue of it being the president who does it.

But now suddenly we see some nuance. Nuance is coming out of their lying mouths.

Always A Sad Sight

This is always a sad sight for a record collector or Elvis Presley fan, to have the rare sight of an Elvis 78 at a garage sale, then to have it be broken.

I've seen it before and it's one of my biggest disappointments. Once I went to a sale and there was two or three and only one of them was broken, which is still a drag.

The other day I went to a garage sale and there was just this one -- Hound Dog/Don't Be Cruel -- and wouldn't you know it? A piece missing. There were several other 78s that weren't broken at all ... but this one had to be!

It's a bad picture but you can tell it doesn't look like that great of condition anyway, and it wasn't. But if it was entirely there I would have bought it anyway, assuming it wasn't $50 or something.

It Carries It In, It Carries It Out

In the Gospel of Thomas, number 7, it says "Blessed is the lion which the man eats and the lion will become a man; and cursed is the man whom the lion eats and the lion will become a man."

Something to do with recycling reminded me of that mysterious verse. We buy recycling bags to put our recycled stuff in. The bags come in a box. The box carries in the bags. But when we come to the last bag, the box finally goes in the bag.

That's a nice circle. The box carries the bag in , the bag carries the box out.

Actual Mexican Tacos

I have a Mexican restaurant I've gone to quite a few times. I like their tacos, but they're very small. I also like good values and I'm not sure these are.

I've been thinking about it and a couple nights ago I bought ingredients that resembled the ingredients on these guys' tacos. I wasn't going to make tacos the same way we've been making them for the last 30 years, which gets boring.

These tacos are the corn shells, some meat, some onion, some kind of lettuce that's not exactly the head of lettuce type. Very simple, but who knows what might be in their meat sauce? That's where the Colonel, to mention another restaurant, can hide some secret ingredients. And not having a laboratory or even a microscope, I'm not going to be able to discern precisely what's in it. And I'm not going to ask them.

Anyway, I put the ingredients together and they weren't bad. Still not exactly like theirs, which I might need to work on a little more. One thing, I made way too much meat and wanted to finish it off rather than letting it go to waste. So that was a bad move. The lettuce I bought was called "Butter Lettuce," which I've never bought before. I don't think it was precisely the same thing, but it was leafy like theirs. The onions were good. And I tried to pan fry briefly the corn shells, soft shells.

They were definitely good. And even though I had to pay more upfront for the ingredients, I still have quite a bit left over (30 corn shells were only $1.89), and can have them at least one more time, just going by how much hamburger and sauce mix I have left.

Writing Press Releases

I used to think a press release would have to be a big deal. Like a press release saying that the president will set forth his nominee for Supreme Court justice at 3:00 p.m. Wednesday. The White House has a mimeograph, I'm guessing, and Robert Gibbs quick types out a stencil, gets it hooked on the machine like you have to do, and runs off a few copies. Helen Thomas is standing there to get the first copy. You remember, when you make a stencil, it's best to turn off the ribbon all together, so the typewriter font is striking the stencil directly.

A few years ago I found a big mimeograph type of machine under a staircase. It was there for who knows what reason. Maybe it didn't work. Maybe they shoved it out of the way when they got a copier. But give me the old technology, a mimeograph, maybe a hectograph. Remember those? I'll say something about them in a minute.

This mimeograph I found was big, and I couldn't get it working properly. Something was always wrong. I can't remember what all, maybe the inking was bad, or it wouldn't turn, something like that. I tried everything but never could get it going. The big thing that sticks in my mind -- and I can smell it still after all these years, at least in my memory -- is the smell of the ink, the various smells of a mimeograph. It doesn't smell good but it's very distinctive. You know it when you smell it!

OK, a hectograph, the ones I knew of, came in a little box. They were flat in a little tray, and the tray was full of some kind of hardened gelatin. You typed a stencil of some sort, an 8½ x 11 sheet, then carefully set it on the gelatin. The image on the stencil transferred to the gel. Then you pulled that up and you would put down a blank piece of paper, then pull it up. It would print that image on the picture in a light blue color, or light red, I think. Definitely the blue. A friend and I put out a little neighborhood newsletter a few times with a hectograph. I believe I still have a copy of one of them in my files.

This was a post about writing press releases, though. You expect press releases to be released for major events. But I've come across a few "press releases" that were to be released "immediately," that were just stuff like the library will be having movie night for kids 12 and under on Wednesday, that kind of thing. I saw one of these "press releases" to be released "immediately" today that was for something miniscule like that. And I thought, wow, it must be boring these things to be in the press.

Exercising My Boy Legs

I was at the exercise place. I try to go nearly everyday but I've sloughed off a little bit. I need to crank it up a bit because I have a doctor's appointment in a month or two and I want to be able to show some progress. Not that I get a discount for it, but the healthier I am the fewer visits I need to make and the more money I save in the long run.

Eventually I'm going to die, like most people my age, so it's not like it's going to pay eternal dividends. But between now and then I can at least prolong the time and make it later rather than sooner. Then the older I get the older I'll be and obviously still alive until the time that I actually do die.

I was there, as I was saying, and did my treadmill. Huff puff. I went the whole stretch like I usually do, which was 15 minutes plus 3 minutes cool down. I did a weights thing, 70 pounds at a pop, and I don't know how many I did, but maybe 20 or more. I don't like to count because then I set an actual goal and start figuring up percentages finished and how many to go, etc. So I do anything I can to lose count, which usually means looking up at a TV.

There was a baseball game on and a guy in the audience caught a foul ball. The camera zeroed in on him for about eight seconds and it made me think of that scene in Seinfeld where George is eating a hot fudge sundae while the camera's on him at a tennis match. Fortunately for this guy he wasn't eating anything, just sitting there very demurely with a kid.

I saw the usual crowd -- I guess they were mostly different folks -- with the personal trainer guy. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Please. Be independent. No one needs this guy telling you what to do. Ugh, I can't imagine. Actually I can imagine. Let's say you go to him 10 times. He knows your name, etc. Then you drop off, but you still show up to exercise. He'd be looking at you, calling you by name, wondering how it's going, not saying it but wondering why you dropped him. Did I do something wrong? Did I overwork you, underwork you? Don't you know I need to eat too? I need money. As far as I'm concerned, once you start with him you have to keep going. No dropping. Pretty soon you really want to escape his clutches, so you have to drop out of that health club and go to another.

As far as I'm concerned it's best just to ignore the guy himself and hope he eventually goes away. So I don't have to think about all these social conundrums.

Final Four

It might be time for me to junk my VCR. I know I'm the last guy who has one.

Every time I record American Idol to watch it later, it seems, there's something wrong. Last night I came home to watch it and the sound wasn't there. Something wrong with the VCR apparently, since the sound was working when I left home.

So I had to watch blurry, bad little snippets at You Tube. What? People are just holding cameras up to their TV, then talking while they're recording. One of the snippets I watched had the camera guy making smart remarks at the judges, the contestants, whatever. Really, nobody wants that.

Anyway, it looks like I might actually be able to watch the results tonight. Including a performance by Chris Daughtry, so that'll be cool. He was voted off as the fourth of the final four, so it's fitting that he comes back for tonight.

I'm hoping Adam stays of course. Anyone else can go, preferably Danny or Kris, my preference being in that order.

John Edwards' Two Americas

I can't believe the train wreck that is (or was) John Edwards. Wow, talk about throwing everything down a rat hole for your libido.

He was big on the "Two Americas" theme. It turns out we were all living in normal America and he was in nightmare America. Knowing he had a scandal hanging about an inch from his head but foolishly plowing right ahead for the Democratic nomination. Wouldn't that have been fun? To have Edwards get the nomination and then for his affair and child, etc., to come out?

It's all in the news again because Elizabeth -- who was 100% complicit in this disastrous presidential run and should not be cut any slack whatsoever -- has written a book and gone on Oprah. She seems to allow that the child could be his, but says she doesn't know.

I was never a big Edwards fan. I went to see him at a couple of campaign events, but both were in 2004. By the time '08 rolled around I was thinking he was just a has been, and why should I go see him? His running was nothing but ego and I thought that much at least was obvious on the surface. But who knew his ego was so huge that he was willing to risk the party's complete success for the presidency to stroke it? What a moron.

The guy is a disgrace. And I'm not crazy about his wife either.

Vic Damone

I can't believe it but I like Vic Damone. I've heard of him most of my life but have never listened to him. I've never been that much into that whole genre of music, Jerry Vale, Al Martino, Matt Monro, even Frank Sinatra. I do have a few Sinatra CDs and like them, but it's not like I get them out and go wild.

The other day I got an old Vic Damone LP at Goodwill. I'd seen it there two or three times and didn't get it. I must have laid it on top and nobody moved it -- I don't know -- because I went in and there it was again laying on top. So it wasn't in terrible condition, a nice VG+, and at only 50 cents I thought I'd buy it. I've been doing some work and I thought it'd be cool to have it playing in the background, which it turned out to be. Even though it didn't look pristine by any stretch, I said a nice VG+, it plays really really well. (Of course I'm not listening to it with headphones when I say that or I'm sure I would notice more surface noise than I'm hearing over the speakers!)

The LP is "Tenderly," Mercury Wing MGW 12157. It's mono and I see on eBay that there was a stereo version too. The original owner's name and a date is written on the front cover, July 1963. So maybe it came out then, or if not, that would probably be when she purchased it. I thought the liner notes read funny in places, like this statement, Vic's voice "projects a hypnotic quality that lulls the listener into dreamy romantic reverie." Well, that's not too far off. I've been working while listening to it, but he definitely has a nice tone, nice control, nothing too wild, nothing too sedate. Just pretty and great.

"The Four Winds and The Seven Seas" is the most atmospheric song. It sounds like they have an echo effect on it. Very lovely. There are 10 songs, and they're all lovely to listen to. I've heard the LP maybe four times and definitely recommend it if you see it at Goodwill, Salvation Army, or an old record store. I'd love to hear the stereo disc, but I'm not paying $50 to get one. It makes you wonder why people do that at eBay. Unless it's just the assumption that someone will buy an overpriced disc once in a while and that'll make it pay off for all the others that you don't sell. When I was selling I didn't want to sit on them forever, and as great as this LP is, I know it's not a $50 record.

As for selling on eBay there are especially some foreign buyers for whom price isn't an object, and they will indeed pay a higher price than most of us in the United States would.

Anyway, this is a very nice LP. And if I ever see any other Vic Damone records at Goodwill, which has happened many times, I'll be sure to pick them up. I see at Wikipedia that Vic is 80 years old now.

Geese

I saw four adult geese with nine tiny baby geese today, swimming.

Of course the bigger ones seemed to be in charge, raising a ruckus when I and my dog were within 35 feet. But they were already in the water. I held back going near them when they were up on the shore.

Wow, baby geese are really small. They were yellow too, quite different from what the parents look like. But they really know how to swim.

Probably a year from now they'll be the parents. It doesn't take these birds that long to qualify for Social Security.

Dynamic Tension

I had to make some cupcakes for an upcoming event. That meant sitting around waiting for the oven timer to go off. And with the stove on I don't like to stray very far, in case there's a problem, and also so I won't forget and burn the place down.

There's a stack of old Popular Mechanics type of magazines that I'm wondering what to do with. I have them but not any big interest in them. But I sat and glanced through one, which was the issue from Aug. 1951. There's a big story in there about owners rating the 1951 Cadillac. Also a story -- with the cover illustration -- about a guy who makes war scenes and adventure scenes happen for movies.

The cover illustration is of some guys cutting through the enemy's anti-submarine netting, probably to do some kind of sabotage against them.

In these old magazines, of course, even the ads are interesting. Maybe more interesting than the articles. There's a one column, full page length ad for Charles Atlas, in which he mentions his famous "Dynamic Tension" method of building your body. Which made me need to listen to "I Can Make You A Man" on the Ipod from the Rocky Horror Picture Show. In this particular ad, though, the weakling is 97-pounds and not 98.

PIN Woes

I had some PIN woes today. I log into a site every month to make a payment. Maybe two years running.

But today -- just a routine day, you know -- I went there and the PIN was no longer valid. I figured maybe I typed it wrong, even though I knew I didn't. So I tried again and it was still no good. I tried again and it was still no good. By now I was "locked out" because they wanted to protect my security.

I figured, well, this isn't going to be any good. But I called them and they gave me the instructions what to do next. I did it and it worked.

Weird that it was just changed like that. I wish that wouldn't happen.

Dog Death Anniversary

I just got back from taking my dog -- my current dog -- to the park. She likes to go romp there and of course go to the bathroom repeatedly. I've had this dog for about 10 years.

Our last dog died, and going through some papers today I found a reference to it. I hadn't remembered when the death was precisely. But it turns out that it's tomorrow, May 2. And the year was 1996. So 13 years ago. It's been a while.

It was a very bad day for me 13 years ago. I had a major flat tire on the interstate and had to depend on the very generous kindness of strangers (really) to get everything taken care of. Something was wrong with my spare. I'd driven for years with a spare that didn't actually fit the car! But the strangers involved were very kind.

Then I got home, finally, and learned that this dog had died. And that I needed to bury him.