Another Rough Day Moving

I have so many terrible possessions and I'm getting ready to move. So I spent almost the whole day going through crap and packing, in addition to carrying trash to my garage to be disposed of Friday, if we can find a landfill big enough to handle it all.

Essentially I have 11+ years of stuff from my basement that's more or less garbage by now. My garage itself had lots of garbage stuff and stuff that became garbage from various environmental elements in a garage. So I have Mount Garbage in my garage. The guy's who's going to help me on Friday is going to have a heart attack when he sees it all. I'm afraid to open the door for him!

I have a new vow, which I made yesterday or the day before, that Never again! Once I get moved I'm going to make an ongoing effort to dispose of the stuff I already have, while it's good, so that someday when I retire and move again it won't require a herculean effort. It's ridiculous how much stuff I have. I'm overwhelmed with stuff! I'm so ashamed, and I'm not kidding when I say that.

Just the stuff I'm taking with me is a mountain. I hope it all fits in the truck.

Write Something!

I've missed a couple days writing on my blogs, because of certain changes, upheavals, in my life. I'm in the process of moving. That causes a lot of consternation and a lot of wondering how things will work out, etc.

I hope good. The move is the big thing on my mind now. I've got a ton of boxes, and I'm giving quite an effort toward packing and cleaning my various rooms, including a basement that I had stuffed and messed up. Things had fallen over. Water had leaked in. Certain things were moldy, rotting. It wasn't a good scene. I was down there last night and hoping I wouldn't get that yucky water in any wound.

With all that going on, I've had to cut back in other areas of my life, including my daily writing of my blogs. So, I've knocked off for the night. It's been a busy day with it. And now I'm writing something.

I went to one of the local parks with my dog a while ago. She's consternated about the moving. The dolly and the boxes shuffling scares her so she's pretty scarce. But I know she's somewhere, like under the bed, probably wishing that we could get back to normal. Yes, I know, that's my wish too!

After a while I was thinking of her and that we needed a break. So we got in the car and headed to the park. It's a park that's a little out of the way, so there weren't any other people there. That meant I could give her free run, which she enjoys.

I sat at a picnic table for a few minutes, thinking over my life. Then I glanced over and the dog was taking a poop, so I took my sack over and picked it up.

My CPR/First Aid Class

Like I said a couple days ago, I had a CPR/First Aid class coming up, and today was it.

I made it through, missing only a few on the exams. Whew, I was really swearing it too. You wouldn't think the Red Cross would get tricky with the questions on the exams, but they do. It seems to me that if you sit through the demonstrations and videos and do the actual hands-on stuff that that'd be good enough.

Oh well, I passed, and that's what counts.

Now, would I feel comfortable actually doing CPR? Well, I'm not rushing out looking for cases. But if I happened to be there and it happened to happen, I'd at least have some idea of what to do, whereas before I would've been lost. They'd have a better chance with me today than the other day. I wouldn't run the other direction. I'd be doing the breaths, the compressions, and hoping that the professionals got there quickly.

I'm happy to have this behind me. Except you need to get recertified every year. That'll probably be a positive thing for me. I'll read the book and be more familiar with it and I'm sure I'll know plenty about it by next year.

Gilligan Politics

It troubles me that there has to be such a wide gulf between the Democrats and Republicans. I want to see both sides of the isle come together.

CPR/First Aid

I'm going to be taking a CPR/First Aid class, a class that lasts six hours, probably with a lunch break in the middle of it.

I've never done that before. So this will be a real departure for me, making progress in my lifesaving skills, which right now are made up of the ability to dial 911.

As for first aid, I'd guess it's more than putting on some Neosporin and an adhesive bandage. We used to spray some Bactine on. How far this goes, the training, I don't know. Maybe it will include tourniquets and splits, the whole wilderness thing a person would need to know, survival skills.

I'm looking forward to it. So if I ever run into you and you need someone to save your life, I'll be ready!

Handling Collectibles Carefully, Very Carefully

I've been going through some of the things I collect. (Maybe you've already read about one of my collections, classic dog food labels.)

I am someone who takes my collecting very seriously. And that's what I recommend for any others who may have something valuable or nice. Take it seriously, and take good care of your items.

Some things we collect -- I'm sure you're the same way -- we collect just out of love for the thing. And some things we collect because it's an investment. We're looking ahead to that time when we'll be able to sell everything, piece by piece or in one unbroken lot.

As for myself, I have a hard time parting with anything, even though I know there's some monetary value now that perhaps won't be there in five years. I just like the way my collectibles would look on display. I say "would look" because most of my things I would never display, out of fear that someone will see them and steal them when I'm away from home.

My most valuable things I keep in the bank. Other things, I keep in file cabinets, all very low key looking so no one will think they have anything worth stealing in them. As long as I don't tell anyone about my collectibles and as long as they're always hidden away in the cabinets, as far as anyone else knows, these things don't exist.

Like other collectors -- and this I highly recommend as well -- I keep whatever it is in mylar bags with acid free backing boards, the whole nine yards. The more you keep your collectibles sealed up, hidden away, and kept from light and air, the longer you will have to enjoy them. Plus, after your death, when your relatives are going through your things, even if they're not specialists in a given field, they will recognize that these things are valuable and, hopefully, will continue to preserve the whole works.

I like collecting. And you can too.

Of Course, We Have Lots Of Wackos In Our Country

This is really big news!

Wingnut Republican Rep. Randy Neugebauer, who famously shouted out "Baby Killer" during the speech Bart Stupak was giving the other night said he has had a "tremendous outpouring" of calls, emails, and contributions, with those folks saying, "'Congressman, thank you for taking a stand.'"

This is really big news, of course, because, No one would ever guess that would happen. Yeah, sure.

After all we do have lots of wackos in our country, for whom a little bit of decorum in the Congress is nothing. You see them during every hearing. Somehow they're able to sneak in with a 50 foot banner and a tray of cream pies. Each of these people do have supporters somewhere.

When the guy flew his plane into the IRS building in Texas, even Congressmen (such as Steve King) had words of empathy for his cause. If you killed any official in this country -- any one of them -- there'd be a whole subset of wackos who would rejoice about that. They'd be sending in emails, making calls, and sending contributions. Mark it down, it's a fact.

When Joe Wilson made his famous outburst, "You Lie!", he made what? A couple million off that. Because there's plenty of wackos out there who will gladly reward bad behavior.

It doesn't make it right. But none of these people care about right and wrong anymore. Remember that someday when the Republicans try to tell us again that they're "the Responsibility Party." LOL.

A Long Lost Relative Of Sorts

Yesterday, out of the blue, I met a lady who saw my name on a name tag and asked me if I knew the folks in a particular town with that name. I was amazed. "Yes, because that's where I'm from."

It turned out her maiden name was the same as my name and she was from that area. That's all fine. Except I didn't know her branch of the family and she didn't know mine. Even though I figured everyone in that area had heard of my mom and dad, or at least my grandparents. And I'd think that especially with someone of the same family name. On the other hand, I hadn't heard of her either.

But I had heard of her dad's name, so that's at least something.

My mom filled me in on their place in the family tree, going back a while. Back there somewhere we have some common links.

A funny thing about all this is that the genealogical information I found about her on the internet appears to be wrong. The kids seem to be mixed up as far as their married names go. So ... beware of genealogical information you see from the 1700s ... if they can't even get people who are still alive right!

The Republicans Are Morons

They really are morons if they think Americans don't want decent health care insurance. Their big plan now is to repeal the health care reform legislation we just got. To replace it with what? They want to go back to pre-existing conditions exclusions, unregulated increases to premiums, and people dying early because they can't get coverage.

That doesn't sound like a winning argument to me: "We want you to die." But, hey, good luck with that!

What they should've done all along was play nice, get in there and contribute to making a bipartisan bill that would be good for all Americans. You'd think that's what they were elected for, to contribute to the well-being of the country. It doesn't seem right to me that someone would want to serve in government just to lie and block and obstruct everything.

It seems really bizarre to me that the Republicans shed so many tears over the baby who doesn't get born, then don't give a second thought to all the babies in the country after they are born. They tried to pull the wool over our eyes a few years ago that they were "compassionate conservatives." I didn't fall for that line of BS for a second, but I know several did. As far as I'm concerned, they're wolves in wolves' clothing.

So they've spent the day today lambasting the progress that President Obama and the Congress gave us last night, instead of getting on board and looking for common ground and progress. Morons.

Twentieth Century Fox

One of my favorite Doors' songs is "Twentieth Century Fox."

She doesn't have "no clocks," though, meaning she's not punctual, I guess, which I wouldn't like.

Everything else I could handle. "The queen of cool."

"She won't waste time on elementary talk."

"Got the world locked up inside a plastic box."

The 39 Steps

I watched the Alfred Hitchcock film "The 39 Steps." It was gripping.

I need to watch it again, since I had a hard time "getting it" entirely, what was going on.

Now that I know who was on what side, maybe it will make better sense to me. I didn't know Mr. Memory had something to do with it. I figured that was just filler at the beginning.

So, for the first time in a long time, I'm going to watch the same movie twice in a row.

Spies, I prefer agents.

We'll Protect You

I saw a blurb somewhere today to this effect: A tea party wacko promised any Democrat who'd vote no on health care reform that "We will protect you" in the next election.

That messes up my thought processes in certain ways. Because it's my general opinion that Democrats ought to be supporting Democratic legislation. And that Democrats ought not be overly worried about the votes of those citizens who won't vote for them anyway.

So what are we left here? A wacko promise of protection for people they wouldn't vote for anyway, if they will vote against what their natural constituency wants and against their party's president, platform, and principles. Right there you can see how wacky these Tea Party wackos are!

Here's the way it was when we suffered the Bush years: We didn't want him as president and we didn't want a Republican Congress. But we suffered with it, with the idea that they were going to get what they wanted (more or less) because they weren't that concerned with what we -- who wouldn't vote for them under any circumstances -- wanted.

It's mind blowing that the Tea Party wackos -- and other Republican extremists -- think this, that they lost the election in 2008, therefore they should be entitled to whatever legislation they want. Their thought, they win they win, they lose they win.

We'll have to remember that!

My Fingernails Getting Too Long

We've all heard that the fingernails of corpses continue to grow, for whatever reason. You open a casket 10 years later and they've scratched their eyes out.

I'm not even dead yet and my fingernails are growing at a prodigious pace. I just clipped them a week or so again and it's already time to take the shears to them again. Big garden shears is the only thing I can use. That's how thick they are. I need dynamite for my toenails.

I've been playing my guitar a lot more lately -- but not much in the last couple of days since I didn't want to retune it. Then I retuned it today and what's the next problem I have? Long fingernails. I can barely type this because of my enormous fingernails.

A few years ago I quit biting them. I used to gnaw them down to the quick, like one of my brothers. But I quit doing that all together, not out of choice but to save my teeth, which I always think are too brittle to stand it. Seriously, I'd need to be a beaver to keep up with my fingernails.

I was just looking at them. We had lunch and I have several crumbs and dried powdery food under there. I got to get them cut. I can smell yesterday's meal under there somewhere, it's that bad.

I was just thinking what it'd look like if I saw these crumbs and crap under a microscope. I'm sure it'd look like a vast army -- like a flea looks like -- and would drive me insane. That's why I never own a microscope, because the looks of small things would scare me to death.

Just a quickie here ... to make note of the weird stuff under my long fingernails, and to serve as a prologue to actually getting something done about them.

The Million Of Things That Put You Here

I was talking with my daughter today, who was talking to her grandfather yesterday (not my father).

He was saying that he always regretted he wasn't able to move to California years ago when he wanted to. Because he didn't have the money to do it. Or because he didn't think he had enough.

That allowed me to say to her, If he would've moved there, you would've never been born. Which is true in the sense that I would've never met her mother.

But it's not just that one fact but a million other facts that had to line up precisely so that she (or anyone) would ultimately be born. All the hundreds of generations before us had to go through their random moves and encounters. There's a lot of stuff that had to happen in a very precise way -- with no one regulating any of it -- for any of us to be here.

Except if you weren't here you wouldn't know about it, as far as I can tell.

I saw one of those signs on the side of the road that said "God knew your soul before you were born." Which, whether that's true or not, is an interesting thought. You might wonder in that case, Why be born? Wouldn't I have been more content wherever my soul was with God?

But if I would've stayed with God (in my soul contentment), I wouldn't have been here to continue the random chain of events that led to my daughter. And she expressed happiness that her Grandpa's big dream of moving to California never came true.

Roll Over Minutes

We weren't home last night but staying somewhere else. It was unusual, not just for us but for the dog.

The dog was in bed with us, and I'm tossing and turning because I haven't got my normal clock to look at. So I'm turning on my phone. Then I'm trying to get my share of the covers, etc.

I'm rolling around in an unfamiliar bed. And I notice the dog rolling around too, trying to keep from me rolling over on to her.

It'd be tough to be that small and to have the constant danger of someone smushing you.

Sane Christianity

Here's a good article, by Paul Raushenbush, "It Took Pat Robertson and Glenn Beck to Remind Sane Christians of Who We Are and Who We Do Not Want to Be."

Paul makes the very good point that there are plenty of Christians who have a sane faith. I would say we should expect the sane version of these things to be the normal version. And the weird, nutzoid faith of, say, a Pat Robertson, or the anti-social-justice version that Glenn Beck espouses, should be seen as the lunatic fringe.

The normal isn't seen at the fringe, the loud mouths. It's what you see in the average, level headed folks who do normal things and stick to what is in the middle, engaging in the things that are more balanced.

A Suit Of Clothes

It takes a skeleton in a body to fill out a suit of clothes.

Personally, I just call it my suit. A pair of suit pants goes with a suit. A suit jacket goes on top, with a suit. Then there's the vest and the chains. You put on a pair of nice shoes and you're fully dressed, assuming there's a shirt in there somewhere. And a tie.

Without the jacket it's just a pair of pants, and without the pants it's just a jacket. The suit takes the whole thing to be the suit.

I have a couple of suits. More than that if you include the bad ones. Why I have bad ones? I haven't gotten around to selling them to the rag man yet.

The Farmer's Wife

I completely watched the film, "The Farmer's Wife," directed by Alfred Hitchcock, from 1928. I wrote a tiny bit about this yesterday.

I both enjoyed it and struggled with it. Everywhere I look they say it is 97 or 98 minutes, but it feels so much longer than that. It's a silent movie, so you have to pay very close attention. Then it has a musical soundtrack that, in my case, induces sleepiness. I bet I took three naps just trying to make it through this one film, stopping the DVD of course each time.

But like I said that doesn't mean it wasn't enjoyable, because it was. There were, however, many scenes that could've been shortened or even left out all together. But it looks like the theory was that a silent movie needed longs of prolonged close-ups to get the full story across, the emotional transformations that a person makes.

The premise of the film is that a farmer's wife died, and he eventually decides to remarry. He makes a list of the eligible bachelorettes he can think of in the area. He has a housekeeper, but for some reason never considers her. Then we step through the attempts to marry the women on the list, each of whom reject his proposal. In the picture above, the woman on the left is the housekeeper, Araminta Dench (called 'Minta) played by Lilian Hall-Davis. The woman in the middle is one of the women on the list, my favorite character, Thirza Tapper played by Maud Gill. The man is not the farmer, but the farmer's handyman, Churdles Ash, played by Gordon Harker.

Each of these characters I really came to like, to the point that I wasn't really thinking about the characters so much but the individuals who played them. The others were great too. Maybe my least favorite was the farmer himself, who, even though he had land, animals, etc., didn't seem like that great a guy. I don't think I would've married him either, like if we were in a state that allowed that. Of course I know it was the premise of the film that had to be worked through, but anyone who would overlook the housekeeper for that much of the movie would have to be a blockhead. She was clearly the best girl in town, and already right under his own roof!

Of the four women who rejected him, I would only have good things to say. They played their characters excellently. I liked the mousy, fussy Thirza Tapper best. The farmer shows up to a party at her place a half hour early and it's a lot of fun watching her, very flustered, get ready to go down and meet him, since she has to work on her make-up, hair, etc. She really looks the part, her face and mannerisms.

One other thing, Gordon Harker plays a hilarious handyman, with a lot of excellent mannerisms. The camera's on him a lot, being very comic.

The Contentment

I'm in the contentment zone, with a nice bagel and a few drinks, milk, grape juice, and coffee.

I felt myself drifting a little bit into a reverie while reading some comments at Daily Kos. I look through some of the diaries but usually avoid the comments. But with the contentment, I drifted down lazily into the comments. That's a nice feeling, a kind of foggy feeling, allowing me to take those moments to read a few comments slowly.

Then -- I wasn't exactly awakened from the foggy feeling but I started processing the debate that takes place in comments, those who are offended then realize that the diarist's comments were "snark." I'm not going to get involved. So, like I said, I wasn't exactly awakened, but I became more conscious of what I was doing.

Meaning there's no place like home. Close that out and do this. Think about and note my reverie, in part induced through this morsel of food and these drinks ... also a fun size Reese's peanut butter cup.

A Sherlock Holmes Foggy Night

Last night when I took the dog out, it was a weird feeling night. It was foggy and it was still, no wind. It was peaceful, except when a car drove by. Because there was some moisture on the street, and you could hear the wheels picking up water and making that high splashing sound.

When all the cars were passed, it went back to a great stillness. I love it when there's no wind. You can feel like you're well balanced.

It reminded me of an old Sherlock Holmes movie, which had something to do with a claw. It was something like this, that people were being killed by a claw and many assumed was an animal, but was actually a guy with a claw. I found it. It was called "The Scarlet Claw."

Sherlock (Basil Rathbone) is walking along with this guy, who says, "Three deaths and three days," and he indicates that there needs to be one more, Mr. Holmes' death himself!

That's what I was thinking about while walking on that peaceful foggy night. Not a good thought. I'd much rather just look around and think about the enclosure that the fog seems to give.

Do The Vega

Since I'm watching Elvis' film "Viva Las Vegas," between my viewings (of pieces), I'm listening to the soundtrack album.

I see they've recently released most (or all) of Elvis' soundtrack albums with the original artwork. For me, I already have a number of them on the old "Double Features" CDs so I don't plan on buying them, duh. But there could be a few I don't have. Like "Tickle Me," and a few others.

There's a lot of good songs on "Viva Las Vegas," in my opinion. It's nice to be able to visualize the movie in my mind when listening to them. I think it would've been cool if Elvis had sung live in the films, but it wouldn't have been as smooth sounding. Still, that'd be a radical concept for musicals. Do music in them!

The other soundtrack on the "Viva" Double Feature CD is "Rousabout," which is also cool, but the songs on it are mostly in the under-2 minutes category.

Viva Las Vegas

I'm watching the Elvis movie "Viva Las Vegas." I've seen it before but it's been long enough, a couple years, that I'd forgotten most of it.

It's a treat so far, I think. Of course I love Elvis, so his movies aren't generally a problem for me. I don't like the ones where he gets beat up too much, killed, or is a juvenile delinquent or prisoner. But otherwise, with the lighter fare after the first few years, I'm fine with them.

"Viva Las Vegas" is obviously in that category. A love story with Ann-Margret as his love interest. So far I've seen a few musical numbers, including the one Elvis does at the University of Nevada and the one he and Ann do together, then he's at the piano at her father's place. They're all real good.

I also liked the musical sequence involved in Elvis' and the other guy's journeys to clubs to look for Ann-Margret. The "Texas" segment I don't care for much though.

My Bagel Was Gummy

My dog's unpredictable ways forced me to leave my heated up bagel on the stove for an extra 10 minutes, meaning by the time I got to it it was gummy and tough to chew.

For quite a while -- maybe it was because of the winter darkness -- she stayed in bed and I was able to fix breakfast, eat it, check out the computer, etc., before she appeared, wanting to go outside. Now it's been more like this, that she makes an appearance right when I'm about to grab my food and head for the computer.

The same thing happened today. I didn't hear her footsteps on the stairs, so I thought maybe ... maybe I'd get away with doing it in the order I want. So I heated up the bagel, had it buttered, had some juice, milk, and coffee ready. Then ... on cue, she shows up!

We went outside and dilly dallied longer than usual. She made more near approaches to taking a crap than Apollo missions before they actually set one down. She was creeping around, looking for a place to land. Reminds me of crab walking. I was barely containing myself, feeling annoyed. And once when she was moving closer to some fresh mud I did yell out, "Hey!" I told her come this way, and "Good girl." I have to show that we're on the same page or she'll never go.

I finally got in and now here I sit. The coffee was cooler, the milk warmer, the juice was good, but the bagel was super gummy. Two things, bagels and macaroni and cheese have to be eaten right away or they're not fit to eat.

Live A Little, Love A Little

The Elvis movie I've been watching the last couple days is "Live A Little, Love A Little." I love this film. I've seen it a few times.

It's so peppy. The only downer is how irritated Elvis always seems at the flirtations of Bernice. I gotta say, if I were a single guy and in the same position he was, I wouldn't be so rejecting. She's one great looking lady. But Elvis is sick of Harry Baby in the picture and also that Bernice keeps standing him up or acting weird.

I can't figure out the scene when he goes to the printing company and gets into a big gang fight. To me, I'm either always missing something or it simply doesn't make any sense. He's late for work and they try to kill him? I don't get it.

I'm getting toward the end. Elvis is "Almost In Love" with Bernice. Pretty soon they're going to have a divider in the bed, and finally, as I recall, Elvis gets rid of the divider. Whoa.

This is toward the end of Elvis' film career. Had he gone a few more years, who knows what we might've seen? As for this one, he's in the shower, with Bernice reaching a back washer way down. This also might be the only Elvis movie that has Elvis sitting on the toilet, although he's just sitting there fully dressed (toward the beginning when he's at the beach house.)

The movie has the greatest songs, as far as I'm concerned. But they're few. They're great though, including "Edge of Reality," "A Little Less Conversation," "Almost In Love," and "Wonderful World." The last song there really sets the stage for a breezy movie, with Michele Carey's beautiful performance a real treat throughout.

Some of the other folks are great too. One of "Bewitched's" Darrins plays Harry Baby, Rudy Vallee is in the film (!), Sterling Holloway is in there.

If you love Elvis and you don't have this movie, get it, and Live A Little!

The Terrorists' Initials

I keep thinking when I hear the one terrorist or terrorism suspect (whatever he is) referred to as KSM, Why do we do that? Why are we giving this guy such notoriety, that we call him by his initials, like JFK or FDR.

It's nuts. Just call him by his name, his last name like we would a normal person. We only magnify him by giving him the extra designation.

It's the same as they did with bin Laden, calling him OBL (or UBL as Fox News kept insisting on doing).

DBK, out!

The Birds Know

The birds outside seem to know something about spring coming. I was out there and they were singing like crazy.

It's a nice sunny day. They've come out of hiding.

John McCain Channels Dead Generals

This is hilarious. John McCain, who only wants to follow the advice of military leaders on "Don't Ask, Don't Tell," ignores their advice if it's against the DADT policy. Meaning he has his opinion and credits it to the military leaders who agree with him. Why not just cut out the middle man and say it's his own opinion PERIOD?

Now he's got some big letter on the subject that's signed by a bunch of military leaders, some of whom are dead. One guy was dead when it was published, and his wife signed it for him. Jason Linkins at the Huffington Post article says he might get George Armstrong Custer's signature before long!

Why does John McCain need this kind of stuff? Is his life really so pathetic that he's reduced to channeling the dead to back up opinions he already has? Of course we remember the 2008 campaign. There's no depth he won't descend to to make a bad point. But the campaign's over, he could be a normal guy if he wanted.

On the other hand, he's not the brainiest guy in the world. He's the guy who thought Sarah Palin would make a terrific president ... IF ...

Rapacious Palin Cleans Out The Place

This is funny.

Sarah and the other hillbillies were in California and had the opportunity to pick up some free gifts at an Oscar party. And reportedly they descended on the freebies, according to someone who was there, "like locusts."

I can picture that. Free stuff. I love it!

A Worthy Facebook Shout-Out

I see a lot of people had this for their status recently:

Every single one of you are on my friend list as a result of a conscious decision. I am not only glad to count you as friends but also as family! Let's see who in my Friend's List actually pays attention. Copy and repost this in your own bulletin. You can't choose family but... you can choose friends..

I actually was paying attention, obviously. But whether I'm going to copy and repost this in my own bulletin doesn't have anything to do with whether I was paying attention. I can't choose your status but ... I can choose mine.

Anyway, it's great to choose your friends wisely! Then to give them a good shout-out. Every one of you is precious to me!

I'm giving a shout-out tonight to you, my worthy readers. I didn't choose you. You just showed up. Thank you for that, and I hope you enjoyed your stay. If there's anything I can do at this blog to make your time more enjoyable, don't be afraid to ask. Of course I can't give any guarantees, but if it were something reasonable, I might be able to accommodate you.

Their Native Habitat

I made a rare journey to the local college, the mecca of higher learning.

I tried to fit in as best as I could in the union, watching the students in their native habitat.

I saw several people younger than I -- virtually all of them, except for few old profs (probably) who went by. I don't know that they were profs. They didn't have padded elbows.

The young people made me think: The last time I was in college many of them weren't even born yet. In fact, their parents might've been whooping it up, bringing about that spark of life that exploded into being and brought them into the world.

I sipped my latte and thought wistfully about philosophical things. Were I a professor, I would've caressed my own wispy beard.

I spy an average student in his native habitat. A blow of the pipe and a tranquilizer dart to the thigh will give me a fine specimen for later study.

The Companionship Of A Good Dog

I don't know if there really are bad dogs. I'm sure of course that there are dogs that have been mistreated and so are bad. Or they're sick with some weird condition and they're bad. But whether there are just dogs that are bad just out of choice, that I don't think is the case.

The dog I have is certainly a good one.

I'm well aware of the whole thing where we get attached to them and we project a lot into them and their behavior, etc. But it really does look objectively like they are actually good and do love us. I look at my dog and it's impossible for me to think she doesn't love me. Since she's always around. If she didn't love me, wouldn't she be on the couch somewhere instead of right by my side?

I look at this dog and I'm amazed at the faithfulness, the quality of the companionship that she provides. It makes me want to cherish her in return, no matter what.

We're really on the same page in lots of ways. I've been taking her out without a harness and leash for over a month, since it's winter, there's snow everywhere, and she stays with me. She knows what I want to do based on what I say. I've been telling her to "Wait" when we come to a street crossing, since I don't want her to get run over. And she waits. Then "OK" and she runs across the street. But this wasn't practiced. I just did it and she seemed to get it right away. And there's other things like that.