Licking Things At Goodwill

I went by a family, a mom, another lady, and a couple kids together at Goodwill. I saw one of the kids but I didn't see him licking anything.

But as I passed by, I heard behind me, "What are you licking that for? What if another kid licked it, then put it in his butt crack, then licked it again?"

Yes, it's that second licking after the butt crack that would truly contaminate it.

Will You Count Me In?

Good things come to those who wait. I got Colbie Caillat's CD "Coco" at a thrift store tonight for cheap.

There seems to be a rash of new and fairly new CDs showing up in the thrift store these days. I don't know what's behind it, but I could guess people are ripping their CDs to their iPod and figuring they'll never need the CD anymore.

Whatever the reason, it helps me in my never ending quest to ... I'm not too sure what. I have wide tastes and not really that much time to just sit and listen to music. Except on my iPod, more or less on the run. And even then I like to have the original CD if I can manage it. And for a dollar pop, that's cheap enough.

Girl Watcher

I listened to the record (45 rpm) of "Girl Watcher" by The O'Kaysions. I've always loved this song. And what a great song for summer, huh? (Huh? Huh? Give it to me.)

I love the lyrics and the lascivious, "Umm, umm" the guy does. "Whenever I detect, a member of the other sex..." is part of it. And that cool, "Here comes one now."

Then I was down by the lake and saw a girl floating on an air mattress and the song ran through my head. "Whenever I detect..." as I did right at that moment.

But since I had my dog, that was right when she took a crap and I had to worry about cleaning it up. Then we went the other way toward the garbage and the joy of the moment was lost.

Faked His Death?

Has there been any speculation yet that possibly Michael Jackson faked his own death?

I haven't looked around to see, but it seems like someone would be saying that by now. First, his ex father-in-law (Elvis) of course faked his death back in '77. And at some point while MJ was in the Presley family, he probably got together with Elvis, who told him how it's done.

You figure, MJ was reportedly $400 million in debt and was apparently continually the subject of one lawsuit after another, who would have greater reason to fake his own death? Hasn't it been the case that he has used disguises of one kind or another to try to keep a low profile?

He's sitting in a motel watching all the coverage on TV. Is it still on? I haven't watched TV for a couple days.

As far as I know he faked his own death. As in the case of Elvis, I haven't personally seen the body.

Some Vinyl Oldies

I got a new record player, and it's called an American Audio TT Record.

It plays records like normal but it's also got a USB plug in and copies a record (LP or 45) directly to an MP3 file. Then you plug the memory stick into your computer and you can do what you want with the files.

I got it yesterday and have done a number of tracks, including a five-LP set of oldies from the '60s (for the most part). Fairly short albums since it was 52 tracks all together. They sounded pretty good since the records were in very nice condition.

Today I did several 45s, getting some B sides off of some of them, since for a lot of A sides I have a CD track. However, many of the oldies off the five-LP set were ones I have on CD, but I had different thoughts about it yesterday. At this point I'm seeing it as time consuming when they're clearly the same songs. Another however: There's kind of a charm in hearing even a tiny bit of surface noise back there.

For a lot of these I was running them through another program to cut them into tracks with quiet beginnings and endings. Then all the tagging. This stuff becomes time consuming. So for the one I did today, for the most part, I just recorded them directly and skipped worrying about the beginnings and endings. That cut down some time. Also if you forget taking pops and clicks out, unless they're extremely egregious, that saves time.

The record player has limited controls. One button stops the turntable spinning, instantly. That's nice. One button is the record button and you push it again to stop recording. I can't give a full review, but I've been thinking about it. I think it'd sure be nice to have a remote for this, so I'm not always pushing buttons right on the thing. Because some little bit of sound is picked up when you touch it.

It doesn't have any controls for changing the kbps. I saw it was 192-256 in the place I bought it, Amazon. But when I started using it I was wondering how I was supposed to get 256. It turns out you need to go to their website and download a 256 update, which you install by plugging it in the USB port. They have instructions. The player comes with a USB memory stick, which for some unknown reason would not work to do the update. It just sat there stuck in some kind of flashing light loop. But I tried a different memory source, a flash card for my camera, and it updated in about five seconds. This whole process, taking a half hour, caused me some anxiety, but I was glad when it was accomplished.

I have another source of anxiety, which is the skipping record. The first album I tried skipped like a schoolgirl. And I thought, Oh no. But everything else has been pretty good. Some skips, of course, but I believe it's the record's fault. Because some of my records skipped in the same places on my old record player. But on this one it makes it through most of the bad places.

Still, if you're not monitoring it fairly faithfully, one can slip by. And you'll discover it on your iPod somewhere down the line.

I was ambitious and wanted to record my vinyl copy of Hendrix's "Electric Ladyland." I have one that looks beat, the cover, like it's had water damage and I don't know what all. It looks like it's been through several gang fights. But the records are somehow in pretty clean, very clean condition. I listened to it a couple times late last year or around January on my old record player and it didn't skip, which I expected it to.

So today I started it, recording whole sides rather than sitting there trying to parse it out into tracks. (It does make some small noise when you're trying to do that.) I did Side A, then Side D, then Side B, and it skipped right at the beginning of Side B. I picked it up and examined it and didn't see anything, kind of rubbed the spot lightly. Then tried it again with the recording function off, and it made it through. So I recorded it, without further incident. (I still might be surprised down the road, because I left the room a few times, once for close to four or five minutes, so I have no way of knowing yet if the whole thing made it.)

When listening to this LP earlier on, though, it sounded better than the CD, like grainier in a nice way. So I now have it on my iPod, not spaced in tracks, but as four LP sides. I listened to Side C, my favorite, and it sounded great. Rich, with a few charming bits of surface noise, including a few tiny crackles toward the end. No skips though.

I'm happy with the record player so far.

Don't Forget Ed

I've been thinking about Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson ... but I don't want to forget Ed ... Ed McMahon.

What can I say about Ed McMahon? Basically I used to watch the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson and Ed was always there, an able partner to Johnny. No one who ever watched it can forget his big old laugh, like everything Johnny said was hilarious (and it usually was.)

Humor was slightly different back then, with lots of drinking jokes, and I think some insult humor, like against Doc Severinsen, with his flashy clothes. Ed was the victim of the drinking jokes, which he always took with great humor.

Probably the most famous recurring sketch was the Great Carnak routine, and Ed was great on this. He had some room to stretch on this routine.

I know he's been in bad health lately, some weird things about him in the news. But now he's passed on, so whatever problems he had are over.

Sanford And Hon

I can't believe Republican Gov. Mark Sanford of South Carolina, that he actually had an affair, now confessed, with a woman in Argentina.

Good grief! How do these people in high office think they can do this kind of stuff and get away with it? Talk about living on the edge. A governor disappears for several days at a time and he thinks no one's going to notice? Is he just oblivious to sanity?

It'd be bad enough for some low level, anonymous person, whose comings and goings wouldn't make the news. Any kind of erratic behavior, especially if you were trying to conceal it, like being away for prolonged periods with no good explanation, is going to be known by someone. But to be a governor, and to have had (at least in the news) presidential aspirations, it's just absurd.

The happiest guy in town is Senator Ensign. Now Sanford takes the microphone of shame to confess. I just simply can't believe it.

Another Republican, by the way. The "family values" crowd. "Sanctity of marriage," "defense of marriage," and all that malarkey. I guess they can fool the voters, but they can't fool Freud.

A New Record Player

I have a new record player coming, to be delivered sometime this week.

This is a different kind of record player. I don't know if you can hook it up to an amplifier and simply listen to it, but I'm assuming you can. I took one look at it online and knew I wanted one (needed one?)

It has a USB slot where you plug in a memory thing -- are they called a memory stick? -- and you put the needle on the record, push a button, and it records the track or album directly there. No need for a computer, and apparently no need to adjust the volume, etc.

My current record player is getting old. I haven't changed the needle (cartridge, whatever it's called, stylus) since I got it used over 10 years ago. But I haven't been playing it non stop either. But I think it needs changed, only I'm no good about knowing precisely what to replace it with.

My current record layer seems to have a terrible problem with skipping. I've been playing records most of my life and I don't remember records skipping so darned often, so I think it might be something wrong with it and not the records.

I've recently been experimenting, and actually doing some recording of tracks on to an MP3 recorder. But there's no good way of adjusting the volume. So it's been hit or miss. Then with the record player skipping about every fourth track, it's disappointing to get 90% of the way through a song and have it go directly to the end without passing Go and without collecting $200. I'm tearing out the last sprigs of hair I've got.

When I get this new one, I'll be curious if these same records will skip. And I have one or two in mind, to see how they do. I'm thinking they'll be OK.

Anyway, I'm really looking forward to it getting here. I plan to post how well I like it. And I'll put the name of the system at that time, because I really don't remember what it's called, and don't want to take the time right now to look it up.

Searching For Mister Stewart

We got on the subject of an old dog from the past, one side of the family, from the '70s. His first name was Mister and his last name Stewart.

But we can't remember when he died, or even if he died, although of course he did and would had to have long before now. There aren't dogs that old.

Yet there's no memory of his death, so I suggested, we put an ad in the paper, "Searching for Mister Stewart," and see how many Mr. Stewarts reply.

My Inner Piranha

My inner piranha is a very sleepy, lethargic fish. I haven't been exercising like I should be lately. And when I get anywhere near the end of the day I feel like sleeping.

Your inner piranha is that energetic, munching, instinctual drive to get the job done. It's guided only by what is true, something that inhabits the void of each of your cells. But it needs occasional meat, needs to munch on what you provide it. Maybe it munches on you if you don't provide it with anything better.

So by that theory, that's how you go downhill, because you allow yourself to take off, then your inner piranha gets hungry and starts eating away your energy. Of course it can't go on forever like that, because once you're eaten you're eaten. Then what becomes of your inner piranha?

It doesn't really care. By nature it eventually dies.

[UPDATE: I'm back, to post the links. It's interesting. It's only been a few minutes, and now I come back to Boy Leg and notice my first inner piranha post of the day is very short. You can tell something was going on, that I wasn't as inspired here as I became. That actually is the inner piranha in action. Check out the second post at Dada Boheme. It's longer and has some good insights on the nature of organisms and nurturing your inner piranha, or failing to do so. Then the third post, at dbkundalini, is also longer and more in depth than the above one. There I dwell more on releasing your inner piranha, so that makes a very good mix for the night.]

In The Last Week...

I've seen a one-armed man, a guy with a Harley Davidson tattoo on his leg, and a guy with a full ZZ Top beard.

And there I am, two arms, no tattoos, and no beard. Which means no one's writing blogs about seeing me.

The Ghost Talks

I watched the first episode on the new Three Stooges DVD set, which is the sixth volume, I believe, "The Ghost Talks."

It's pretty good, and funny. I liked it anyway, but I think I was already in a good mood and predisposed in this case to laugh.

As to how the ghost talks, it's all done with wires being pulled from above. I've seen plenty of strings and wires in other Stooges films, but I think this one has to hold the record for the number of wires and frequency of their being pulled.

Since the ghost is talking about half the film, that means the wire is being pulled from above about half the episode! Then there's a bird in a skull, a frog up Shemp's pantleg, and I can't think of what else there was. With the wires clearly seen, making me wonder if these were as visible when the films were shown in the theater, or whether the DVD is so crystal clear that we're able to see things better. It's distracting, but I make allowances for it since of course that's the way the special effects needed to work.

There's so many wires I hope the Three Stooges don't get tangled up and choke to death.

It's confined to one set, I think. Maybe the ghost, while living, in a flashback is a different set. They're at an old castle as delivery/moving men and are supposed to transport a few objects out. They get involved in talking and drinking with the ghost in a suit of armor, and that's about it.

Flies And PETA

I feel like posting this in the "You Gotta Be Kidding Me" file, but I actually knew something like this would happen. Or let me rephrase that, I was kidding around saying someone would object to President Obama killing a fly. But I was thinking it would be the Republicans, coming out for more flies and better conditions for them.

It didn't occur to me that PETA's compassion extends to flies. It makes me wonder if they take antibiotics for bacterial infections, since, after all, bacteria are living creatures as well. Why not just die so bacteria aren't disturbed?

But as it turns out:

PETA is sending President Barack Obama a Katcha Bug Humane Bug Catcher, a device that allows users to trap a house fly and then release it outside.

I do believe in trapping various bugs and releasing them outside, whether they want to go or not. And flies even ... not exactly trapping them for release. But if they fly out when the door or window's open, so much the better. Not that I feel anything for them especially, but it saves me the nuisance of them being around and the inconvenience of wasting time tracking them to kill them.

I was just taking the garbage out yesterday and at least one fly went out when I held the door open. I shut it quickly lest he change his mind. But look at it from his point of view -- which he should've thought of before being inside my house -- there's more garbage and roadkill outside than there is in people's houses. Certainly more roadkill, if your house is anything like mine.

But when push comes to shove, I will not only kill a fly, I will try to do it with "The Force" from Star Wars, meaning it's in some sense divinely directed that they die. I swatted at one yesterday without benefit of "The Force" and of course I missed.

We have regular Secret Service guys there for the president to wrestle to the ground anyone who tries to get the president. We also need really really small ones to be on the lookout for flies, birds, and anything small that poses a danger to his safety. I would even support a bug zapper zone around the president, just because we don't want him endangered or nagged by these little nuisances.

Haven't Got The DVD Yet

Maybe it's the recession, or maybe it's just the high cost of medicine and everything else -- plus a few anxieties over one thing or another ... but I haven't gotten the new Three Stooges DVD set yet.

I could go get it, I guess. I would survive, but I just haven't. I'm looking forward to seeing it, of course, but it'll still be there in a few days.

It's not like me to resist temptation ... although I do have the willpower to do it if I think it's necessary.

The Stripper

I listened to the 45 rpm record of "The Stripper" by David Rose today, recording it on my MP3 recorder.

Is there any more evocative song than this? It only stands for one thing, someone likely a very good friend of Rusty Warren of "Knockers Up" fame.

I have a good tape somewhere of a DJ doing an on air striptease to this song. What was really going on in the studio, of course I don't know.

Gobbledegook

I was trying to post to my blogs via my cellphone. Including for one account, the mobile phone texting option. Then since that's only for one blog, I tried the emailing function for the others. All to mixed results.

If the post is like a line, five or six words, it seems to work OK. But if it's longer, it's a lot of gobbledegook, like it's trying to post in Japanese but none of the Japanese fonts are installed. It's frustrating to see.

I was at a bus station in a town around 75 miles from my home, and passing the time by doing this. Then I went to a restaurant and they had free WiFi, so I checked the blog on my Ipod and guess what, BAD. Oh, brother.

So who knows if it's a problem with my phone, my phone company, or Blogger. Or maybe I just hit the wrong keys 100% of the time? I'm sure I didn't.

It was a great idea for something to do. But something's wrong somewhere.

Field And Stream

I should've been reading Field and Stream magazine all these years.

I picked one up at the exercise club and was reading it while working out on the elliptical. One, I don't usually do this, but I found it helped me to pass the time without constantly looking at the ticking LED clock. It feels like such a waste of time just up there going back and forth. Anything to take away the mental strain.

So I saw a Field and Stream magazine and picked it up. It had a big dangling worm on the cover, nice.

Being an old fisherman -- at least as a kid -- I'm still mildly interested in the subject. But I don't have any fancy poles and I don't go to big resort lakes a thousand miles away to fish and all that. I really don't fish at all, but I would, say someone asked me to go with them. Getting outfitted takes some work.

Camping is the same way. It's fun, but you have to work like a dog getting ready to go camping.

There's some good articles in this magazine, including one on catching your own bait. I could've written that article, since we did that all the time when I was a kid. My dad actually owned a bait shop, but most of the bait he sold we caught by hand, either in the yard or in the park, somewhere like that.

I could go out fishing without any bait and did so many many times. We'd find something to use. A grasshopper or we'd dig worms up on the riverbank. Any old thing though. Plus we did a lot of seining in those days, mostly catching crawdads and minnows. I remember we used all sorts of things, though, like leeches and crickets, and also bait that you could make like cinnamon rolls, but not cooked completely like ones you eat. Let's see, what else? Chicken livers.

So that was an interesting article to see!

Noises Of Exclamation

Deipth! Arraugh! Phlept! Phahip, Phehep, Fitzguh! Aahphuep! Pih-Phep!

Spit, Spat, Sputter!

Paisleys - Cosmic Mind At Play

This LP, "Cosmic Mind At Play" by The Paisleys, I used to have. I got it one time at Goodwill in the early '80s, the original rare one, not a reissue. I made a cassette tape of it and sold the LP. I didn't know at the time that there'd be any demand for it, since I'd never heard of them, but I had several people who wanted it, and as I recall it sold for a fairly good price. Not as good as it could've sold for, since I didn't know anything about it or how much they'd want it.

I still have the cassette and have heard it a few times over the years. When I recorded it I accidentally recorded side 2 first, so that's the order I know the album by.

I've been messing around with an MP3 recorder that I've had since September of last year. But it suddenly occurred to me that I could plug it into a cassette player and record some of these cassettes off. Actual rare things, like family recordings, etc., and have a more secure copy on the hard drive or DVD and be able to make copies of things like that.

But then I was thinking, What about that old Paisleys' LP? So I did that tonight. And there it is on my computer, with all the terrible cracks and pops that go with some LPs, like this one was obviously in the VG condition range.

Then in checking around to get the titles and things, I noticed you can get this on CD for a little bit of nothing. (I saw that a few years ago but didn't do anything about it.) So I ordered it right away ... tonight. And look forward to it getting here. I could listen to this poppy LP recording, but the CD comes with some bonus tracks and it'll be nice to hear the album without a lot of noise.

Need To Recapture The Hyper

It's getting to be evening and it's been a long day and I'm wearing down.

This morning, though, I was very hyper. Sometimes I hate that, like if I have to deal with people in any opinionated way, but it's a great time for ideas. I don't know where it comes from occasionally. Might be something that dreams cause. But it can be welcome and it can be bad.

If I could recapture it right now, I could really say some things! But it's probably all for the best.

Junk Then, Junk Now?

I was just driving somewhere and spotted a '59 Chevy in someone's yard. 50 years!

Ah, that takes me back ... to high school and my family had a '59 Chevrolet that it was my "pleasure" to drive. It actually was a piece of junk and was an embarrassment. But this was a time when being a little freakish was kind of a badge of honor and a distinction. So while I was embarrassed somewhat about the old clunker, I still knew I had the distinction of having something a bit freakish and tried to make the most of it.

I'm also the veteran owner of a few other old cars, including a '56 Ford, a '61 Ford Fairlane, and a '66 Impala. These cars were also junk at the time. The Impala was the biggest gas guzzler I've ever had. It got just slightly better mileage than the space shuttle, which I'm thinking burns off about 5000 gallons of fuel per foot on takeoff. The '61 was losing its wheels (a dealer said) in '71 or '72. The '56 Ford I actually gave away for a couple hamburgers. I could've gotten fries out of the deal too but I had too much pity on the buyer. They should put me on the Supreme Court. I have true empathy.

Seeing the old '59 brought back memories. Memories of cars that were junk then, and something tells me they can't be too much better with another 40 some years on them.

Exercising

I need to get my boy legs out to the exercise place and do some motion stuff, like back and forth, up and down, move you suckers!

They're starting to look no so much like boy legs but big fat man legs.

But I need to force myself back into a faithful attitude vis a vis exercise. Because it's easy to come up with excuses.

Onward and upward!

Sotomayor's Ankle

Someone told me that future Supreme Court justice Sonia Sotomayor broke her ankle. What? Just what we need, more ammo for the Republican scurves, now that she's accident prone. God forbid she was having her period when this happened or Limbaugh will blow a fuse. Which might be good, now that I think of it.

What if this is her Achilles' heel? It's in the same vicinity.

Or maybe she's going for the sympathy vote. Or maybe a Republican tripped her or put a banana peel in her path. Those guys would do that.

The Bo Book

I was at a pet store last night and saw a display of books, obviously dashed off a computer press of some sort quite recently, about President Obama's dog Bo.

I glanced through one. They were $14.95 and published by a place called Mascot Books. Just going by the description in there of Mascot as a publisher, it looks like if you have an idea for a book, they'll work it up somehow, and if it's commercial enough they obviously can produce books and get them distributed pretty fast.

The book was probably 8" x 10", approximately, and maybe 40 pages, and told about Bo, his breed, his activities in the White House, as well as some filler on the activities of presidential pets from years gone by. It covered some recent stuff, so this was fresh. Like the Easter egg hunt and the Jonas Brothers performing for the Obama daughters.

They didn't actually say the Jonas Brothers, though, and I don't think it mentioned the daughters precisely, but there was a trio pictured who looked a lot like the Jonas Brothers and I didn't see Ringo at the drums.

I didn't really take the time to read it, just snippets. It was obviously just a way to cash in, that's the idea, and we're not talking about great literature here. But it was color throughout, with several pieces of artwork of Obama himself, and nicely done. Although they have a weird way of doing the artwork, where parts of the artwork is fuzzed out, out of focus, bringing into focus only part of the picture. I didn't care for that.

One of the most interesting pictures I saw, and remember, Bo was a gift to the Obamas by Teddy Kennedy, was Teddy Kennedy showing up with the dog. It's interesting that such a detail wasn't overlooked. Did Kennedy actually show up and give them the dog?

I'd like to have a Mascot book about my own dogs. I remember my Grandpa showing up and giving my family a dog. It'd bring back lots of great memories to see it in a homemade book. The weird thing about that is that Grandpa rescued this dog from a culvert where he was stuck. And that dog never forgave my Grandpa, because he thought he was attacking him or something. So anytime over the years when Grandpa came by, that dog acted like he wanted to kill him. And we're like, "This is the guy who saved your life, you stupid dog!" (That'd make an interesting two pages right there.)

Anyway, it was a great idea for the book, whoever came up with it. I wonder how many will be sold. As for myself, I wouldn't buy one. But there has to be lots of people who would.

Golden Corral

I ate at Golden Corral for the first time ever tonight.

Quite an experience. I wasn't familiar with the process, but it turned out just to be a bunch of departments for the buffet. Just go up, although at one point it looked like people were in lines.

The food was good. The seating arrangement not so good. I can see why they call it Corral. Just tables and you're very close, to the point of being suffocated by your neighbors. No real privacy and as busy as any restaurant can be. I had several near crashes with people in the place since it was packed.

I won't go there on a Saturday evening again, that's for sure.

(The steak guy also puts a tiny, small piece of meat on your plate. They don't want to over satisfy you.)

Beethoven In The Bathroom

I'm thinking of what I used to hear about Beethoven, being so involved in his composing that he couldn't be disturbed by eating, people bringing him food.

Was there anything else he didn't do? Like normal stuff. I'm figuring the bathroom situation wasn't the greatest back in those days, maybe a chamber pot or a chair you flipped out from the window. Or maybe they had Murphy bathrooms that you flipped down out of the wall. That'd be great till it was time to flip it up again.

I've never been a composer so I don't know how distracting it'd be to eat or go to the bathroom.

Flaming Star

I'm trying to watch the movie "Flaming Star" starring Elvis Presley. By "trying," I mean I watch some of it in the morning and evening while doing my exercises. So it might take a few days to get it accomplished ... if I do.

I'm a huge Elvis fan, but there's one thing I hate about the more serious movies he made. I hate seeing Elvis in trouble, being insulted, and hurt. Bah. I know he wanted to be a serious actor, but I prefer to see him on top of his game, even though even in the lighter movies he's still in some degree of a jam. A little conflict is necessary for every story, I know that.

I couldn't get through "Kid Galahad" because of some of this. And "King Creole," even though I watched it, I don't go for that too much. What I want to see in these movies is Elvis and Girls, Girls, Girls, get a lot of great songs, etc.

But this business in "Flaming Star" of him being a hated halfbreed in the old West, that's not my thing.

The Lead Disk

I finished off that book I said I was reading last night. Usually I'm thinking of a million other things I could be doing besides reading, but when it gets good I can read faster. And I hate myself for letting my eyes jump ahead to see a name or resolution to a paragraph before I'm actually there.

I keep thinking of that theory (maybe proven by now) that your eye takes in the whole page at a glance and that you have read it and it's in mind even before you actually have. I don't think the theory is true in my case.

Anyway, the book was a good one, with a very happy ending. It was called "The Lead Disk." The biggest letdown in the book for me was there wasn't that much of a point to the lead disks. It could have been a green marble, a pink clothespin, anything that people wouldn't think of a gang using for entrance to their super special hiding place, Hidden Valley. As far as I'm concerned the lead disk shouldn't have been in the title, since it didn't really figure in the story that much.

OK, there's this super special hiding place, Hidden Valley, where the bad guys hang out. But there's barely any access to it. Only the bad guys know it exists. (This, I guess, was before airplanes, except it was published in 1934.) Only the bad guys and one good guy, the Indian Lone Walker. Then Tom Haley sees it and plays a dangerous game getting out of there without getting caught. As it is, it sounds like he's shot. Some of the writing was less than clear here.

The good news is I have a notch on my belt for actually finishing a book. Huh? Huh?

A Fictional Dog No One Else Mentions

It seems to me that there ought to be a mention of every fictional dog and cat. We have Lassie, Rin Tin Tin, Morris the Cat.

I've been reading a book, "The Lead Disk," by LeRoy W. Snell, from 1934, published by Cupples & Leon Co. It's an adventure story for boys about a guy who goes to be a Canadian mounted police officer, and follows the travails he has in the wild. And there's lot of travails. You'd almost think being in the Canadian wilderness back then would be a lonely place. But not in the book.

There's an Indian character in the book who has a dog who's like a cross between a wolf and a dog, a very fearsome (but loyal and good -- good to the right people) animal.

And here is his name -- the only mention on the internet insofar as I've been able to locate it -- are you ready? -- It's Me-tah-nic. Pretty good, huh? And his Indian master's name is Lone Walker. The hero's name in the book is Tom Haley.

To The Municipal Pool

I went to the pool today ... got a ticket for the season.

Now I've got my summer refreshment all set. Except I don't like to go in the heat of the day because I don't like getting sunburned.

I like having season passes. Because it's like I own the place, just go struttin' in (of course I have to stop and prove I have a season pass, then get a bracelet, then I just go struttin' in.

Tonight I was just sitting there poolside. I saw a guy with the thickest, darkest, biggest amount of chest hair I've ever seen in my life. Very thick. And must have been an inch and a half deep. You could see it on his profile, like an animal's coat.