Don't Have To Make Sense

It doesn't matter if I don't make sense. I don't have to make sense. What is sense anyway? These statements and question are sensical, so maybe it does matter.

I like to think of every statement from every angle, which makes for some nasty debates. When I had a to-do with a doctor, I was thinking my statements seemed a bit absolute, and were we to get into an extended argument, I might come out on the bad side, because absolute things allow for too many exceptions.

As to not making sense, though, in my own reveries, I don't need to make sense. There's no writing down of it anyway, in any complete way, so it's just as much an expression of consciousness to be absurd as it is to be reasonable.

I've been writing a thing where there's some nonsense involved, but it's expressed as a very reasonable step-by-step descriptive thing. At times I'd like to dip in and out of insanity just to get a feel for it, in order to do this work of absurdity. Because as absurd as I've been there's still the appearance that it's written from the point of view of normal sanity. How much more interesting everything might be!

But how do you dip in and out of insanity? I haven't done it exactly. But just sitting here now, I can think of theories how it might be done. One that pops into my mind is to look at shapes. Triangles, squares, circles, blotches. Maybe blotches would be good, since we all know they use them in psychiatric exams. Trace the edges of a good blotch in your mind. Then just as you're tracing it, veer off a hard right or hard left, or, better yet, right toward you. Here comes a veered off blotch, leaving the page, headed right at your forehead. See, you take the sharp edges of an imagined blotch, put it right between your eyes, and what might you see?

Another thought for dipping into insanity is to be entirely unreasonable and irrational as to your body makeup. We've seen the medical commercials, like for Vesicare, where everything is pipes. Go even more radical on your bodily makeup, to the point of being constructed of pipecleaners and less fuzzy wires. It's not too hard to think of the inside of your head as a structure of pipecleaners and ligaments, mucous and things stapled in place. That mucous thought is something you see on TV ads, where the mucous is having a talk show inside your throat. They've infested you ... go with that.

My own childhood was marked by several images like this, including the little germs on your teeth with pickaxes. Then there was the cartoon that had fleas in the forest of your dog's fur, also doing some mining, with picks and axes. It's one thing to envision that. It's another thing to go beyond that, quietly reasoning with entirely unreasonable imagery.

I think I've come to the end of this reverie.

Going Rogue

What is this about Sen. Jim Bunning (R-Ky)? The Republicans don't think he can win reelection next time and are trying to ease him out and get someone else.

But he's not going down without a fight. This story says he's "going rogue." He's got all his buddies in the Republican caucus who are trying to nudge him aside -- and he's nudging back. First he threatened to sue them if they didn't support him financially. Now he has an even better threat, that he might withdraw altogether, that is resign, and let the Democratic governor of his state appoint his successor. That would be cool.

Make our day, Republicans. Make this old twerp madder.

From the article: "I would get the last laugh. Don't forget Kentucky has a Democrat governor."

American Idol - Round 2

The only performers I really liked last night were Allison Iraheta and Adam Lambert.

In general, the others went from completely sucks to tolerable. A lot of completely forgettable ones. I certainly wouldn't waste 99 cents downloading their songs at this point.

It was weird. I was very tired last night and could barely sit there; I wanted to get to bed. And Allison was sitting there with Ryan Seacrest, doing a terrible interview. I felt like I was in a haze where everything was lasting twice as long, or maybe that was just my impression. I was saying I don't like her at all. Blah. Then she started singing -- "Alone" by Heart -- and was the best female vocalist, in my opinion, by far. I was a big fan after her performance.

Then we had all the others. The big guy. What is he, a welder or something? He was on there, talking about how he wanted to provide for his family. I'm tired, remember, and I'm going, "Ahh! Who cares! We all want to provide for our family. That doesn't mean we have to go on American Idol!" I am sick of any hint of hard luck or having to provide for my family or fulfilling one last dream, all that crap. But still I didn't want him to do bad, and I guess he didn't do terrible. What'd he sing? Something I can't remember. He got criticism from all the judges, then he started to sweat bad. He was mad. You could tell.

Some of the others I didn't especially remember seeing before. One thing I don't really like is all the judge carping over their song choice. Just judge their singing, in my opinion. They give them a list of songs to choose from. That said, Kai -- a very primitive looking guy -- comes out singing some old Motown thing, "What Becomes of the Broken Hearted" and I was thinking that's not healthy. A guy like that needs to come out with something quirkier.

The tattoo girl had the current song "Girl, Put Your Records On." It seemed like what it is, very loose fitting. It's OK but I wasn't excited.

At the end of the whole thing was my favorite of the guys, Adam Lambert doing "Satisfaction." I love the looks of this guy. He's cool looking, and he's a guy who knows he's cool looking. We were looking at him thinking he looks a lot like Elvis in the face. It'd be interesting to Photoshop Elvis' hair on Adam's picture. Just to see.

He did a wild version of "Satisfaction," hitting some hot stuff that was insanely nice. I knew he was my favorite from then on.

Debit Cards

I have a real paranoia about typing my PIN when using the debit card. I'm constantly thinking there's going to be a camera over my shoulder recording it, then the dishonest cashier and the dishonest camera guy run away with all my money. Not that I have that much in my checking account, but they could probably do plenty of mischief.

There's been plenty of times, it seems, when someone has sidled closer to me in the line just as I'm getting ready to enter my PIN. I don't want to be ostentatious about shielding myself from them or shielding my hand. But it's probably just being overly nice not to try my hardest to keep the PIN confidential.

I went to a performance by a guy like Kreskin -- it might have actually been Kreskin, now that I think of it -- at the state fair one time -- and he was guessing stuff by ESP. I wonder if he could guess PINs in the store line.

The thing about typing your PIN is that there's a limited number of lines. And any good crook could say you typed the middle row or bottom row or top row, and the order in which you did it. Then it's a matter of a few guesses and you've got it. I really wish the PIN was about 10 numbers and not just four.

I keep thinking one way to thwart the crooks is to type the PIN wrong a few times, then keep hitting clear and starting over. Pretty soon they're confused and you're OK. But then it might flummox the clerk as well and they'd trip a silent alarm and you'd be going downtown in a squad car.

I'm a very paranoid person. That should be obvious. But there are plenty of reasons to be paranoid. There really are plenty of people out to get you. Don't think they are. Then you're not ready.

The Hound of Heaven

I read the famous poem today a few times. I was trying to parse it out and make sense of it. I pretty much got it, except there are a few places.

I haven't got it in front of me, and I don't have any quotes. I figure it's easy enough for anyone to find.

In essence, it's someone with a sense that God is pursuing him for a relationship and surrender to God. In the poem God doesn't take no for an answer. And I guess that must be the way it is in daily life outsides of poems.

There's some tough bits to decipher, if you're not used to poetic speak. But keep at it and you can get it. The edition I have has a bunch of annotations toward the back. Some of them might be accurate and some might not. One thing for sure, the annotator was a definite fan of the poem, and seemed to be someone who wanted to make the religious significance of the whole thing front and center.

I like the idea of love that won't let you go, love that goes beyond degree, etc. The poem expresses something of that. Really not much in the sense of why. But God has God's reasons. The pursuit happens, and in the end the poet finds out that God's shadow was God's hand giving loving caresses.

Love Your iGoogle Homepage?

At my iGoogle page they have a line that says, "Love your iGoogle homepage? Share a story." I'm wondering what kind of story they're looking for.

My story would have to be a happy one, about how my iGoogle homepage changed my life. I used to have nothing but the normal Google search page. White space and one search box. I felt so bored, like there was nothing to live for. Oh, sure, on holidays they'd brighten it up a bit with a customized logo. Maybe a cuddly bunny on Easter, the two O's in Google being its big bright eyes. But then the holiday would be over and I was right back in the stew. Woe was me.

Then it happened. I clicked the link that said I could have my very own Google page, designed in the exact way I would want, within normal limits of course. It would still offer incredible internet vistas for me to discover, apart from Google's page itself. But I wanted more, much more. And my iGoogle page gave that to me. Since I've had my iGoogle homepage, I'm a happier person. I take care of my personal needs. I eat regular meals. I peek around my dark curtains to see if it's day or night. But really, everything I need is right here. I can look at the various Google gadgets, whatever you call them, and tell what time it is, I can see museum artwork, I can see five of my Gmail message headlines, the headlines from the New York Times, the Bible verse of the day, everything I might ever want.

These days I'm constantly sated, fat and full. My life is full of relish and whim. And I owe it all to my iGoogle homepage, without which I seriously don't believe I would still be here.

Intensive Care Toilets

There's all kinds of ways to start this. I'm tempted to use the tried and true, "Wouldn't you think?" approach, as in "Wouldn't you think that modern technology and medical practice would have come to some obvious intersection where it would be not only feasible but demanded that the intensive care unit of your local hospital would have actual toilets by now?"

I was at the intensive care unit and it's like an outhouse there without the house! It's insane. They have one of those loan closet manual jobbies in the room, basically a bucket with a lid. There's no lining that goes in before you go. No water to soften the blow. Just a plastic bucket. Then what? Someone has to scrape it out and sanitize it? Give me a break.

I asked the nurse if that was common, why they didn't have toilets. She gave me a story about another place she worked where they also didn't have them. She seemed on the verge of making me think that was common practice, till I said I needed to go home and study that on the internet and see if it could be. At that point she backed up a little and made it clearer that it was a space issue, that they would have to have less rooms if they had actual toilets.

The whole subject nauseated me, and I was already nauseated for other reasons. I grew up going out to an outhouse and those were better than this, where they charge you thousands of dollars a day to stay.

And you can't tell me they're able to sanitize it so well that no residue and smell remains. Here's why there's so much staph infection in hospitals. They haven't yet discovered the modern toilet.

Abstinence

Who would win in a fight, Bristol Palin or Derek the Abstinence Clown?

I saw part of Derek's presentation the other day. He's a very good juggler, and can even juggle machetes, if I'm remembering it right, but he wisely doesn't want to juggle them over someone's head because he might drop them. That's smart. Except I'd be smart enough not to volunteer to be the guy under the machetes! No one would make an object lesson out of me because I wouldn't be there! I'm cautious and there are things I wouldn't do.

It's an interesting subject. Bristol doesn't think it's realistic generally. And generally nature wins. But Derek thinks education makes a difference. And I guess we usually agree with that. Except education teaches us also that nature usually wins.

Ice Cream Tastes Good

I've noticed that a close associate disagrees with everything I say. It makes me think the shivs are out.

I'm sitting around the table. We're trying to be agreeable in pursuit of our common purpose. But my ideas are the ones that are not good. What to do? Sometimes it's better to suffer in silence. Maybe be the martyr, innocent, who never saw it coming.

I'm wondering when the time is right to reduce it to what it is, being disagreeable for the sake of being disagreeable. There is a certain price to be paid for such action, though, and I'm never sure I want to pay it. For example, any social transgression, however slight, weighs in my thoughts for ages on end.

It's occurred to me that apparent absurdity is one proactive tact, because no one would get it. Just say "Ice cream tastes good." And when they started looking among themselves in perplexity, going "What?," you're like, "It's just something I think. Does anyone agree? Good, then, it wasn't just me."

The American Idol Winners

That's very brutal when you have nine people in one night kicked out. (Some may have a second shot in a wildcard round, but for the most part it's over.)

The winners included Alexis Grace. She was definitely my favorite. Wow. Very good in every way. I was happy to see her go through.

Next was Michael Sarver. He's more of a country artist. The oil rig guy. I was surprised that he made it. But he seems very likable, is a family man, and sings very decently. He would be the natural one for the country fans to gravitate toward. So that's probably how he made it through. I don't think he will win the whole thing, but he might do well enough to come out of it with a lucrative country record deal.

Then the last of the three was Danny Gokey. He has real talent. And seems nice enough. He'll probably do well just as he is, but for me, I'd like to see him exude more personality. And saying that's probably not that fair. I don't want the widower and recently passed away wife angle to be his whole story. Come out with something that shows other dimensions.

It was not much of a moment of suspense at the end when it came down to Danny or Tatiana. I can't believe there was anyone out there who thought between those two it'd be anyone but Danny. As far as I was concerned it was a foregone conclusion that he was going through. If anyone was going to be paired with Tatiana for a thrilling conclusion, maybe Michael Sarver. Because he was a surprising winner, I thought. They even said it was the difference of only 20,000 votes between him and Anoop Dog. So that's tight out of 24 million votes total. (If this was Minnesota we wouldn't know which one was put through till Season 10!)

Treasures Tonight

I went to one of the local thrift stores and got my treasures. I'm always interested in picking up decent CDs and records.

I got one tonight, a CD, that I didn't know existed. I've never seen it around, but of course looking it up on the internet I notice there's numerous copies.

That's one by Roy Orbison, Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Carl Perkins, from 1986, called "Class of '55." The reviewers at Amazon don't seem overly excited about it but I'm guessing it's a good enough relic. Of course, no doubt, they've all done better work. That was one of the remarks made. But that really would likely go without saying. This is a reunion of sorts, and I suppose there was some casualness about it. I haven't heard it, but it's not hard to guess what it's going to sound like.

My copy is a bit scuffed up. I was surprised about that, because you figure the guy who had this CD would have been a guy who would normally keep his CDs in nice condition. Because he would likely be a collector sort of guy. Just reading his fortune without actually knowing him.

My other treasure -- if that's what you would call it -- was a cassette single by The Cranberries of "Linger." I don't buy many cassettes, virtually none, but I like some of these by people who were once my favorites. It's like buying a 45 with picture sleeve, which I obviously would do, but it's a cassette. I have a few things like this on my shelf, a few by Roxette are the ones I had up there, and now this one by Cranberries.

Here's a site with a great scan of the box.

Francis and Mr. Ed

I found myself involved today in probably the stupidest argument I've ever had in my life.

It had to do with whether Francis the Talking Mule was ever in a movie together with Mr. Ed. I dismissed the idea out of hand, saying that Francis was from the '40s and Mr. Ed was from the '60s. She rightly pointed out that the character of Francis could very easily have been played by a different mule in the '60s. But I dismissed it simply as something that didn't happen. And that was my downfall.

At that point it became an argument based less on the merits than on the contention that I "always have to be right." I'm saying no such thing is the case and "look it up." It's easy enough to find out by looking on the internet.

Quite frankly, I don't know everything about every movie, but I don't remember Mr. Ed being in any movies PERIOD, just the TV show. Therefore I felt sure that the two stars -- the mule and the horse -- were never paired.

It went on like that for another minute and she left ... mad.

W.

I was overjoyed to finally be rid of George W. Bush. So it took some doing to decide to watch the movie W.

I read the reviews and pretty much figured what it was going to be. And it turned out to be all that and more. But however good it was, it's not one I want to see again. It's one I would definitely recommend renting, not buying. I want to be rid of Bush, not to see him on my shelf for future entertainment.

One reviewer said it was a fairly sympathetic portrayal of Bush. And I think that's true. He's shown as loud, a big hick, a dunce, consumed with a desire to please his dad, and all the rest. I never thought he was that much of a brain, but I think he is probably smarter in real life than the movie showed. So as much as I dislike, I think I would've gone for an even more sympathetic portrayal, in the sense of keeping it closer to the facts.

You could feel some of those moments where it wasn't according to facts. Like where Bush made some of his more well-known verbal bobbles, like "Is our children learning," "misunderestimating me," others like that. They seemed to me to be in different contexts than they were in actual history. But that's OK. It's necessary to do a certain telescoping, stylizing to make it into a movie of coherence and not just a documentary.

I liked it how Bush kept calling Cheney "Vice." I don't know if he really did that, but it lent itself well to the dumb kind of portrayal Oliver Stone was going for. We definitely know he had nicknames for people, so it didn't seem unbelievable.

Even though there was some sympathetic stuff, there's no way that watching the movie made me long for or like the Bush administration any more. He was disgusting, rotten to the core, and his administration was criminal. Good riddance to bad rubbish. May your name be trompled on in the dust of revolted history and all that. But despite Bush's own sorrows as a leader, it made you long for more intelligence in this country, that we wouldn't elect a crumb like that, just because he was the first George Bush's son. How stupid the whole political scene was in 1999 and 2000, that we had to get this twerp and all the other twerps he brought with him.

One other thing. The portrayal of key figures in his administration was interesting. Cheney, just as sour and miserable as real life. Condi Rice, I think she got a severe portrayal. She seems amused but also very admiring and supportive of this dunce. It makes you wonder what makes her tick. Colin Powell tries to be a straight arrow but is bent by the persistence of the ideologues. Rumsfeld, virtually not there. Wolfy, seeking every in for ideology.

Good movie. Provokes thoughts. Provokes a lot of sorrow. Great ending.

Nigerian News

Nigeria has their own Google News page. That's awesome. I wouldn't expect it.

I went there and was expecting to see a lot of headlines about "Local Millionaire Dies, Leaves Fortune To Random Morons In America," but it wasn't there.

There is an article about "looted funds," but it has to do with Switzerland and Nigeria in some kind of dispute.

What do you think of Nigeria? I'm dumb, what is there to think besides the usual internet money scams? Pop Answers' topic today was "Countries Other Than America" and Nigeria didn't come to mind. Maybe if the topic was "Countries To Strictly Avoid."

Hey, I'm broadminded, at least in my youth. I remember going to a Nigerian Independence Day party in the '70s. Attended by me, another American kid, and a whole roomful of Nigerians. It was memorable.

Eight Is Enough

In childbearing news, we have the strange story of the woman who had eight kids while already having six more at home.

Then today the story of this 13 year old boy who looks eight being the father of this new baby.

I'm not going to pass judgment. I'll just say, like I say when I see the highway patrol with someone pulled over, "Better them than me."

No One Dreamed Lincoln Would Be President

In honor of Abraham Lincoln's 200th birthday, I was reading a little bit today out of a book, "Herndon's Life of Lincoln." It's a pretty old biography, with Herndon being someone who knew Lincoln personally. The edition I have is revised with modern scholarship. Meaning that about every other page (so far) the modern (1960s?) editor corrects or supplements Herndon's information.

According to the blurb on the back, "Herndon admired Lincoln almost to idolatry, yet in telling Lincoln's story he told the truth unsparingly." So that's good.

I only read about 50 pages so far, but there's plenty of interesting nuggets in just that first little section. There's some of the obscurities of Lincoln's family background, which he apparently didn't like to talk about much. There's the story of his educational pursuits as a child, which were very limited. And he seems to have been kind of a rascal if provoked, even writing satirical pieces against people, quite in jest but people of course took it seriously.

Something I like is this notion that people who ran into him never "dreamed" he would be president. To which we might say, "Why would they?" I run into people all the time and don't "dream" that they'll be president someday. There's two references like this in the first 50 pages.

One, his mother is dying. "Stoop-shouldered, thin-breasted, sad -- at times miserable, -- groping through the perplexities of life, without prospect of any betterment in her condition, she passed from earth, little dreaming of the grand future that lay in store for the ragged, hapless little boy who stood at her bedside in the last days of her life." (p. 67, my emphasis.) No, she had other things on her mind, like her poor shoulders, her thin breasts, and all the groping she had to put up with!

The other passage like this is from 1830. The Lincoln family is heading for Illinois with oxen and a wagon. Abraham Lincoln is there. And Herndon says, "As these humble emigrants entered the new State little did the curious people in the towns through which they passed dream that the obscure and penniless driver who yelled commands to the oxen would yet become Chief Magistrate of the greatest nation of modern times. (p. 94, my emphasis.) I don't know, don't you dream that every obscure and penniless person you see might become president someday? Probably not. They were probably more concerned that that big skinny guy let his oxen crap on my front lawn and didn't clean it up.

(This edition is a paperback from the Fawcett World Library, 2nd Premier printing, 1965.)

Blowing Your Nose No Good

The word they use for this is "counterintuitive." The word I use for it is "Now You Tell Me!" After decades of blowing my nose.

The ones this is bad for are the Puffs people. There's some scientists saying that blowing your nose isn't good for you. I guess just leave it stuffed up.

It sounds like something like this, that blowing your nose can cause more infection. But sneezing and coughing is OK.

But it's not all bad news, because if you are going to blow it, one doctor says the best way to do it is one nostril at a time and to take decongestants.

No word from Kleenex yet.

One Night In 1955

I was at a thrift store in a different town today. And it's kind of fun to go to these because the stuff hasn't already been picked over -- by me. The thrift stores in my own town, I'm a regular, so if they haven't got anything new, I'm the first to notice.

I like to pick up CDs, because you can get them fairly cheap. One I got by Bjork, called "Homogenic." I'm not big into listening to her albums, but I have listened to them. But I always think it's worthwhile to pick up whatever there is. I have a couple of others, now this one. I'm happy to get it because I see at All Music Guide that this is rated at 5 stars. Pretty good, huh? I listened to the first few songs ... just my first dabbling ... and I liked it. But that's not a review.

One I got that I regret, a Camden CD (budget in the first place) called "The Original Recordings of Glenn Miller." I was already on to this one, since I've looked at albums for many years. It's not only short but it still has the old cover and they retained the line about stereo effect from monophonic. Just listening to the first couple songs, it didn't sound like it to me, which is an improvement. But the songs seem to have some distortion around the edges, listening on earbuds. And that's no good. Being a budget album, it is very short ... and not good.

The other four I got were jazz CDs, which I like sometimes. Put them on and jazz out. Not always but once in a while. They're cool looking and if I had more time to listen to music, I'd step right through them, yessir. One I did listen to all the way through, while doing other things. That's Duke Ellington's "Piano Reflections," recorded in 1953. The sound is excellent and it's quite a nice listening experience. I got "The Best of Art Tatum" on Pablo. Haven't listened to it or to the Ray Brown Trio's "Don't Get Sassy," but both look like super CDs. The fourth jazz one is "The Oscar Peterson Trio at Zardi's," recorded one night in 1955. I read the brief All Music Guide review of this one and it sounds pretty good. I listened to the first track only and it's clear as a bell. You can hear some of the ambience of the place. The applause sounds like there's about 20 people there. Nice CDs, that one being a two CD set.

I like the sense of that for some weird reason, a trio is recorded one night in 1955, it's basically forgotten, then put out in the '90s, and it's all right there for us to listen to, note by note.

The Grammys

I tried to watch the Grammys last night, but the local TV station was screwed up somehow. The above picture is an actual screenshot of the broadcast. It was frozen on the screen like that for -- I don't know how long -- quite a while. You can sort of see the CBS logo down in the lower corner.

I gave up on watching it. Then when I was looking at other stations I quickly came across another CBS station that I didn't know we had. But the picture on it was all fuzzy, then distorted, then wavy -- in short it sucked. At times it was OK and I could see what was going on clearly, including Paul McCartney sitting there. I saw Carrie Underwood singing but during her performance the reception (on cable TV) was poor. The reception during Coldplay was not too bad, especially during the piano song.

Anyway, after a while, even though I really wanted to watch it -- I just couldn't anymore. I flipped over to the original channel and the picture had changed from the above, to another still shot, also broken up, so that was it.

Folks I wanted to see included MIA and Paul McCartney's performances. But, alas, it wasn't to be. I figure they're online somewhere. But I didn't have time today to look around.

Naps

Naps can be very refreshing or naps can be a pain. Especially if you take an overly long one, wake up, the day's wasted, and you don't feel any better.

I think I might have died today, that's how intense my nap was. But I woke up around an hour into it and thought it felt like six hours instead of one. That's when I should have gotten up, a signal moment of victory over the forces of sleep! But I succumbed back to whatever the dream was, and it turned out to be closer to three hours.

Now it's close to dark out, I'm sitting here alone, except for a few animals, and it feels like my regrets at an overly long nap are spoiling the goodness of the time both since and to come. That much more occur!

I could watch TV, but that's not always fun. Do this for a while, then do something else. I might go exercise. That's a discipline I need to be more disciplined at.

Singled Minded Cat

When I went out to the car, passing through the kitchen, the cat thought it might be time to eat. So he comes out to see, or maybe he was already there. Then when I get home, 15 minutes later, he thinks maybe it's time to eat, checking with me.

I get up in the morning and stir. I need to go downstairs and the cat comes wandering out -- immediately -- thinking it's time to eat. No, I say, it's a little early. I go back upstairs for an hour or an hour and a few minutes. Then I go down. This time it is time for the cat to eat, and he appears without any calling.

That cat is always monitoring the dish. Always hungry it seems. He has a single minded focus on one thing, when the next meal is. Of course he always has the dry food setting there, and he is pretty good about eating it. But he likes that extra can of meat.

I don't remember my cat always being this way. It seems to me now that he's old he is a lot more demanding about food. Let's eat, let's eat, let's eat!

Putin: "Mamma Mialovich!"

Everything I ever hear about Vladimir Putin points to the inescapable conclusion that he's one creepy guy.

This seems weird, what's reported of an Abba tribute concert they arranged for Putin and a woman, perhaps his wife. They flew in a tribute group all the way from London for a private performance. The Russian government bought new equipment for the group. Then the group performed, as "Mr Putin and a woman companion were sitting on a sofa that was veiled by a lace curtain. Half a dozen other guests were present at the hour-long show on January 22 as the group sang 15 Abba hits including Waterloo, Gimme Gimme Gimme and Dancing Queen."

“It was the smallest audience we have ever performed to but Mr Putin was really enjoying it, shouting ‘bravo’ and clapping with the others,” said one of the performers. The group, Björn Again "performed despite the distraction of a burly security guard who sat in front of the stage watching their every move. Band members were under strict instructions never to leave the stage during the show."

Newt Gingrich?

Did we elect the Democrats just so we'd get more Republicans? I hope not.

On 1600 Pennsylvania Ave., an MSNBC show, Craig Crawford was speculating that Newt Gingrich might be a good head for HHS, which is what? Health and Human Services...? Which Democrat did we have for this in the Bush years?

Newt? I don't think so. Don't we already know he's no good? We elected Democrats. Let's have Democrats putting forth a Democratic agenda and showing what can be done with good government. The Republicans had eight years to muck things up. The idea that somehow they're any good now is ridiculous.

Viva Italia

Whatever happened to the movie, "Viva Italia"? I never hear of it, in fact I've never heard anyone mention it.

But at allmovie.com they still have a reference to it:

This Italian black comedy is comprised of nine short stories all related to the theme that most men are selfish cads. At the 1978 Oscars, the film was nominated for Best Foreign film.

So it's not just my imagination that it existed. Since it was a 1978 film, that must have been the year I went to it. I was at the theater and I think I was the only person there. It was a cold, nasty day. They had the downstairs closed to help with heat, it seems, and so I sat in the balcony.

The kid of the ticket lady came up and told me it was about to start. I really enjoyed it, but don't remember much about it. It was episodic, just like the allmovie paragraph says, little vignettes. My biggest memory was the use of the song "All By Myself" by Eric Carmen, when someone blows up a plane, I believe it was, that his lover was on. So if that is meant to illustrate that men are "selfish cads," I guess it succeeds.

Another movie I'd like to see, but never hear of, yet I think is actually available, is "The Norman Conquests." Saw it on TV once and it was very funny. Never saw it again.

Big Bopper

Big Bopper was one of the guys who died in that plane crash 50 years ago today, along with Ritchie Valens, Buddy Holly, and the pilot, Roger Peterson.

I don't seem to have any Big Bopper records -- mp3's anyway. There is a possibility, not a very good one, that I have a record somewhere that has his song -- HOLD THAT, I just thought of one, the American Graffiti album, which I have the CD of. So I'll put it on.

Yeah, there it is! A phone ringing, the Big Bopper speaking, then we hear his side of the conversation. It's cool. I'm listening to it. Two minutes I wasn't sure I had this song. I was listening to the 30 second clip at Amazon and debating whether to waste 99 cents on it. I didn't. Now I'm glad.

I can get it going with this kind of music. Boogying. I think it times at 2:21, which it did at Amazon. But it's still not in my nature to want to pay for downloads of songs. I like actual records and CDs, something that will still be around when this computer is in the dump, like two years from now. I presently make copies of everything, but that's also not very tangible. You're at the mercy of this stuff.

Well, that was good. That happened to be one of the songs that Wolfman Jack doesn't talk over. Thank goodness.

So this guy died 50 years ago. A few years ago I saw his nephew (or some relative like that) carrying on the family name. He was up on stage, singing the same songs.

Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, Big Bopper

Well, tonight is a night for rock 'n' roll! A sad anniversary kind of night, but they must have had a great concert 50 years ago tonight ... before flying away and crashing sometime after midnight.

We've been to the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa. We went there once for one of the big anniversaries -- I guess it was -- a few years ago. They had record tables, records for sale, dancing, various bands, including Jack Scott. I didn't actually get to see Jack Scott, because I needed to leave, but I saw his wife! And bought his CD.

But 50 years ago they had the current rock 'n' rollers there. And we've loved them (sort of) ever since. Big Bopper, I basically only know that one song, "Chantilly Lace," but I've heard his others a time or two, most of them. Ritchie Valens, he got the full movie treatment, and I have a CD of his Del-Fi stuff. "Donna" and "La Bamba" and there's some other good things on there. Buddy Holly is the biggest, and over the years we've had his records.

In the late '70s I got a boxed set of LPs from England that was supposed to be the complete works, and the record store guy said it's all you'll ever need by Buddy Holly. But that was before CDs. And so in CDs all I have are "The Buddy Holly Collection" with 50 songs, and the MCA Greatest Hits album that has 20 songs, which of course are also found on the other album.

I've had several Buddy Holly records and probably still have a few, 45 rpm records. I used to have a great promo copy of "Blue Days, Black Nights," but sold it back to the friend who sold it to me. I needed some memory for my VIC-20 (how stupid! but true).

Here's my big adventures in getting some Buddy Holly 45s. I went to this jukebox record place in Des Moines one time. They had a pile of 45s from jukeboxes in the back room. Just the usual '80s junk, as it was considered at that time. But there was another room, just a few steps this direction. And in there I found numerous good records, including some Buddy Holly ones. The lady finally came back and caught me, but she allowed me to buy some of them.

One other adventure, not really an adventure, but I was at a jukebox record place in Marshalltown, Iowa, one time. And I'm just glancing through the ordinary 45s, which they had categorized, and guess what, there was a Buddy Holly record, old Coral, filed with "The Hollies." Ha ha, naturally I bought it. I got some other really good things that day, but that was the one that related to Buddy Holly.

Unfortunately, over the years I needed money, and ended up selling most of these to a guy for around $12 apiece.

I was around when Buddy Holly was alive, but just a kid. So, even though I was already an Elvis fan at that time, since my mother was, I have no memories of Buddy Holly. And I don't recall ever seeing any of his records while growing up. So she must not have had any.

So the day Buddy Holly died ... at the time no one mentioned it to me.

P.S. Also killed in the crash was the pilot, Roger Peterson.

Long Haired Football Players

What's with all the long haired football players? Did I miss an important cultural shift? Is long hair back?

I'm not much of a football fan so I didn't know this was going on. A guy told me the other day that there was a long haired one, but that's not the half of it. I watched the Super Bowl and there must have been -- well, let's see -- I jotted down some names -- four or five that I noticed.

One of these I only have the first name of: Laboy, Larry Fitzgerald, Darnell Dockett, Paul Palamalo, and Tyrone Carter. Palamalo's name might not be spelled right there.

To me it looks great, hanging down under their helmets. Men of nature!