Mantracker

There's a show on -- is it the Science Channel, somewhere in that vicinity -- called Mantracker.

I saw most of an episode, plus I see the commercials for it all the time (which I hate.)

I'm not going to watch this show. It bothers me that the mantracker is on horseback and the trackees are on foot. They should either all be on horseback or on foot, make it a lot more even.

I would be a natural audience for a show like this, because I like the concept. But mostly because we did a kind of mantracker thing in our neighborhood when I was a kid, hiding and chasing. Kind of like hide and seek with the entire block or so. And I was pretty good at it.

But, no, I'm not watching ... put the mantracker on foot, too!

By the way, how is it the camera guys aren't giving away everyone's locations? I guess I'll never know.

Whatever Happened To Travelers' Checks?

This is a blast from the past, as far as I'm concerned. We were talking about something and the subject of travelers' checks came up. And I suddenly realized you never hear or think about travelers' checks anymore.

What was it? Debit cards or electronic checks or credit cards that did them in? Or are they not done in yet, but still going strong?

I know we used to get travelers' checks when we went places. Because the places you went to wouldn't want to accept a check from people out of state. And if you took too much cash and someone stole it, then you were out.

So we would go to the bank and buy these checks. They had some particular rule about signing them that you had to do to use them, which I don't remember now.

30 Days Hath September

And today's the proof!

I'm Suddenly Fashionable!

I read an interesting article today, that suddenly its fashionable not to wash your jeans. That's great news, becaue I get a lot of guff about wearing my jeans so long "they're able to stand up by themselves." I hate hearing that complaint, but it's true.

Recently, though, since I got a new washing machine in June, and the novelty hasn't worn off yet, I've been washing them more often. It does seem kind of nice to have them fresh and new feeling, but it's not necessary to my happiness.

In the last few days, I've been keeping them on longer. So if a popsicle piece falls, that's a little stain. And I also got some grass stains a couple days ago from working on the yard. But I've still got them on.

I'm never in fashion, as far as I know. I don't even know what the fashion is. But now, out of the blue, I see this article, and it lets me know all is right with the world ... finally.

Jimi Hendrix

40 years ago today, the 18th, Jimi died. We love him.

How Good Looking I Am

I caught another glimpse of myself in a mirror today. This was just after we were out to eat.

I had sat there in the restaurant feeling a little surly. I'm a nice person, but there's only so much of it I can take.

But I have this ingrown sense that I look better than I do, so as far as I know, the wait staff are seeing the same thing.

Then afterward, we're in the car, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I'm reminded once again that I'm not near as good looking as I imagine myself to be. So that's what they're seeing, an old man with weird hair. Maybe graying side hair, I didn't look that close.

Churches

The Church of the Sacred Welcome - You'll be personally greeted by the pastor and his wife. Your hand shook or your tithe cheerfully refunded.

The Church of the Vigorous Ass-kick - Self-explanatory policies.

Contemporary Worship Services

I've gone to a church for a couple of weeks, to their "contemporary" service.

What can you say?

The guys up there playing guitars are really good at it, but I'm already a little sick of watching them slash away at their guitars in great excitement. I haven't got any big criticism of them, but it's not really doing much to make me spiritually inspired. It's watching some guys play guitar, piano, bass, violin, and whatever.

It may as well be an old fashioned organ buried away somewhere, where you don't have to watch it as a performance thing.

The songs are all the usual sorts of stuff you might expect, God's glory, how glorious one's experience is, 'I was low in the pits before you go a hold of me, but now I'm a jolly person,' etc. The big difference between these songs and the old songs is they're "contemporary." Some of the old time composers didn't leave a lot of space for fancy guitar work.

One of the guitar players really gets into it. Today I was thinking about how calloused his fingers must be. Also I was thinking about how it must've been when he first picked up the guitar and started strumming, then how he started to learn. I was thinking how he made great progress along the way, practicing like the devil, until he was good enough, yet ever learning. I was thinking, 'I wonder if he's a regular at the music store,' always checking out the latest in guitars, maybe even owning a really good guitar. I was thinking how much practice he must do to stay really good, to come across so good on Sunday morning. I don't especially like watching him.

The other guitar player is an older guy. He also knows how to boogie down. I'm thinking many of the things I thought about the first guy, when he came to know he had proficiency at it. I'm also thinking of how motivated they are, apparently, to really put on a good show for us. This guy has the extra responsibility of saying all the prayers in the church. They're very ordinary, conversational prayers, albeit keeping some level of distance and arm's length adoration toward God.

As for me, I try to enter in ... or at least exclude these guys so I can get my own focus ... but that's not always an easy thing to do. I'd probably be better off staying home, to tell you the truth. I like the communal aspects of spirituality, but if you're unknown there, it doesn't make much difference.

This particular church isn't going to be my church. But, you know, God bless 'em.

I'm sitting in the library writing this. If you see me you may as well say hello, but since it's a library say it quietl@y. They have a lot of very cool books here. Most of them are inviting someone to read them.@

Setting The Table

I'm setting the table for a nice day. Being off to a good start and well-adjusted.

Republicans are afraid of people with dark skin. But they don`t seem to mind John Boehner.

Nixon Resignation Day

I think we're up to Nixon Resignation Day again, aren't we? Something in my memory says it was Aug. 9.

So it's been yet another year since we've had Nixon to kick around.

Nixon might not look that bad in hindsight, going by the feral Republicans we have these days. As bad as he was, there was at least a sense that he had some aspects of the good of the country at heart. Not like his modern day brethren, who are complete sell-outs to their peculiar brand of anti-Americanism.

A Sanitary Seat

At the grocery store they're germ-conscious, putting a container of sanitary wipes next to the shopping carts. No one wants to touch anything anyone else has touched. I know I don't, since my mind has a little red flag popping up every time I touch something.

They also have a nice looking electrical horse at the door for the kiddies. It has a beautiful saddle. But I'm looking around for the disposable seat covers that should go with it. I wouldn't want my kid sitting on a saddle that every pee-pants kid in town has sat on!

Macedonio Fernandez

I'm reading a book by a guy named Macedonio Fernandez, called "The Museum of Eterna's Novel (The First Good Novel)."

I'd love to actually get the entire thing read. But it's been slow going for me thus far. I'm only up to page 52 (out of 238) and that after a few days picking it up and putting it down.

I love the concept and some of the sly observations he makes. I can resonate with some of the sly observations he makes about novels and characters, since I've thought of a few of those myself, not just with books but with movies and songs.

He has some things to say about the characters in a book and their existence or non-existence. Like a traveler who shows up and travels on, what kind of existence he has.

I'm no Fernandez expert, having just heard of him a few days ago. But he was from South America and was influential to other more famous guys down there. Somehow he became well known and now, being completely dead, is gaining in reputation. To the point that a guy like me would hear of him and be reading and resonating and all the rest.

The little I know about his book so far -- and forgive me if I'm announcing a completely new doctrine apart from his, although that would be better from my point of view -- reminds me of what I think of every time I hear the Beatles' "Day Tripper" song. To me it's like a little world that exists all by itself -- the riff is probably the key here -- then in a couple minutes it's gone, yet it exists as its own little compact self somewhere in the eternal stream.

The book, the title given above, has a novel in it somewhere, which I haven't gotten to yet but I've glimpsed. Before we get to it, a surface reading seems to suggest, we have 50 or so tangential or intrinsic prologues to make it through. Some of these are extremely delightful. And the ones that aren't delightful, I was just tired while reading them.

It was written many years ago before he died, but the English publication is only recent, having been translated in recent days. The translator deciphered it from a handwritten manuscript that was virtually indecipherable, but thankfully it was also nicely written out by Fernandez' lover, which had to help.

How Cool Am I?

Clicking my fingers, listening to a rock 'n' roll album, and doing yoga exercises.

Pictures I Bought

I'm not putting my pictures on the internet right now. I'm toying with the idea. I'm also toying with the idea of not, and letting them be my private domain. There's something cool about that too.

I was walking along the street downtown and a guy was sitting on the street corner with a bunch of photos spread out, most in big photo binders under plastic. I started to pass unaware of what was going on, then I stopped and asked him if he was selling these. He said he was and told me how much they were and what one guy in one of the pictures was named.

I went on and went to a bookstore. Then I decided I should buy that guy's picture, if the photo guy was still there. I couldn't see him. I was kicking myself (prematurely), because he turned out to be there still.

I said, "Have you still got that Jeremy one in sunglasses?" He said he did. So I got that one for $5 and I bought another one for $5 too. The Jeremy one shows a B&W close-up of a black guy in white glasses, smoking a cigarette. He's looking up away from the camera. He looks very artsy. The glasses turned out not to be sunglasses. It's a cool photo. So I got it.

This Jeremy is a guy on the internet, with a My Space page and a blog. The photographer told me about him, so I looked him up, and indeed he has songs, albums, the whole bit. I downloaded one of them for free, but I haven't heard anything except the first track. Good stuff, the first track, hip-hopish with sound loops of people talking. I love the photo. It's around 5" x 8".

The other one is also a black guy, looking alone on a craggy street. This one is color. It's about 7" x 10". He's got his arms up, showing the underside of them. He's looking down, away from the camera. He's off to the right side, so you see the road on the left side. His arms, what he's showing, has tattoos, the photographer said of the names of his grandfathers. There's also some numbers, but I'm in a darker room right now so I can't make out what they are. The guy's name is Julio.

I don't know what I'm going to do with them. Probably nothing. Maybe frame them. They're very good, artsy photos, and the subjects are compelling looking.

The Unstoving Of The Stoves

I like hot water for washing my hands, the way my Grandma Steam used to make it.

She also wrote a column in the local paper, "All Steamed Up."

Then there was my Grandma Stove, whose column was a little more embarrassing, since it was, "All Stoved Up."

Her column was a lot longer because she was so stoved up. Except the times she couldn't think of much to say and was stoved up.

Back In The '60s

Everything was great back in the '60s.

The way I remember it, dogs didn't get sick and die back then. Even old cats could hold their food. Mothers were healthy. Fathers were alive.

Our biggest decision everyday was what happy thing to do next.

The grass always had the right amount of greenness and always grew to just the right length to be presentable and not need cutting.

The garbage truck belonged to the garbage man himself. There were no chains.

Car Surgery And Death

I had to get my car worked on a couple weeks ago. Tire problem. I didn't know I had a tire problem. I went in for an oil change. Then I asked them to give me my first of a "lifetime" of free tire rotations. It was then that a problem was discerned with one of the tires, having a "broken belt."

We were there for seemingly an interminable amount of time. Very --- not fun.

I was looking at the car back there, getting fixed by a mechanic in slow motion. It reminded me of people in the hospital.

The waiting room we were in was like the waiting room at the hospital, like in surgery. The doctor comes out every hour or so to tell you the progress he's making.

Finally, if things go badly, you're back in the room -- a hospice room now -- and they're telling you about the comfort measures. You just want to keep Dad comfortable, and the same of course with the car.

Wet his lips, put some salve on its grill every couple hours.

I Got A New Dehumidifier Today

The dehumidifier I had was one I essentially inherited. I didn't really know its vintage or provenance. (Pretty good word, huh?)

Maybe I had a bad attitude around it, or, since it's a dehumidifier, maybe my humor was too dry. Whatever, the stinking thing quit working.

Meaning, just like that I had to get a new one. So I went and got one. I got the biggest capacity they had, plus the one with the lowest temperature allowed, something like 42 degrees instead of the usual 65.

65 is ridiculous. Because if you use your air conditioner at all, which I do, of course in the basement it's going to dip below 65. But I hope this 42 degree one can get the job done without being too finicky.