Real Men Wear Pink

A recently discovered band photo from 1984. I'm the
one with the Chapman Stick, wisely hiding behind
the microphone!

Magnetic Heels and The Perfect Shower Gift...For Him

A friend invites you to a baby shower. Well, OK, in
my case, they invite my wife, so I don't have to deal
with it. But, I have some advice: while you are
looking through the endless variations of baby strollers,
outfits, etc., spare a thought for the father-to-be.

Go to the nearest sporting goods store and buy a
cup. Yes, one of those devices designed to protect
the testicles from serious injury. Then wrap it up
and send it along for the father-to-be. Trust me.
In about six months, the cup will look
like a battered hockey mask and the guy will be
thanking you!

Almost from day one, I discovered that a child's
feet are magnetically attracted to the nearest crotch.
Lift him off the floor - he'll kick you on the way past.
Stretch out on the bed - he'll climb up and get you.

And it's not just the feet. Come home - he'll run across the
house shouting "DAD!!" and his head will butt directly into
your crotch.

This continues until . . . well, I don't know. It's been almost
six years and it's still going on around here! What I can't
figure out is: my son started out very small, and has grown
much larger . . . why do his feet still align with my crotch if
we stretch out on the same couch??

I'm thinking there are probably some kind of natural magnets,
that evolved specifically to prevent overpopulation. Not that
they are working just yet - the kicking just needs to be a little
harder to achieve that goal! So, logically, the next trend will
be babies with huge leg muscles.

In the meantime, buy those cups. Someone will thank you.

Was This Mean?

I have an old friend who is a recluse. For years,
she only left her bedroom when absolutely
necessary. A couple of years ago, she packed
up and moved from the northeast US to Hawaii.

I assume her lifestyle hasn't changed much.

Recently, my brother-in-law visited Hawaii as
part of his 25th wedding anniversary celebration.

I saw an opportunity :
I wrote a note that said,
"Well, we were in Honolulu but didn't have time to go looking
for you....not that you'd have answered the door anyway!"
and put it in an envelope for him to mail FROM Honolulu
- which he did.

My question to you: Am I too mean? Or was this a good
joke between people who've known each other for
over 20 years?

First Base? Not Exactly!

This post was inspired by Last Girl's comment on
my previous post.

Not exactly first base, but an amusing tale.

A friend of mine is an artist (www.portraitsandpets.com) .
She used to run an art gallery. One night, at one of the
gallery events, there was a young, very talented artist.
Only about 17 years old, I think. I can't remember her
name (I think it was Rinna -?). I have one of her drawings in
storage - I really should find it and hang it. You know, so if she
gets famous, I can say I was there, "way back when" . . . ha!

I don't remember exactly how old my son was at the time,
but he wasn't quite walking yet - so he was probably
between a year and 14 months old, I'm guessing. Maybe
less.

He was crawling around the gallery floor when suddenly
he spotted this girl across the room. He went directly to
her. He hoisted himself up, holding onto her knees so
he was looking directly up her skirt (which was short).
Then he turned, looked around, and said to all,
"HA...HA...HAAA!" - slowly and deliberately!
As if to say, "Hey, everyone, look what's up here!"

The girl's father quipped, "If he wasn't a baby, I'd break
his arms."

For some reason, I took the heat for that one, simply
because I was the one at home with him all day!

Hey - some things are are instinct . . . I'm innocent!

Proud - But Aging

Today my son fielded his first ground ball
and threw the runner out at first base. He's
five.

After the initial thrill, I couldn't help but think:
Man, I am getting old quickly!

My Musical Week 4/22

Reviving a failed experiment . . . assuming I keep
it going, which I probably won't! Mostly because
you'd be subjected to a lot of "Wednesday's rehearsal
recording" which would mean absolutely nothing to
you unless I really bored you with the details.

This week (and these almost all have links!) :

The Duhks - "The Duhks"
Richard Thompson - "Amnesia"
Mike Keneally - "The Tar Tapes Vol. 1"
..and his bass player...
Bryan Beller - "View"
The Hellecasters - "The Hellecasters"
Buddy Guy - "Hold That Plane!"
Ludwig van Beethoven : Symphonien Nos. 5 & 6
(Berliner Philharmoniker/Herbert von Karajan)

I had to dig out the Fifth Symphony because my son
had picked up a joke somewhere . . .

"Q: What was Beethoven's favourite fruit?
A: Ba na na na!!!!"

I figured he should learn WHY that was supposed
to be funny . . . and it turns out he likes the symphony
a lot.

But, my son also likes Keneally - because he says some of
his stuff sounds like it could be part of the Pokemon
show soundtrack!

But that's OK. I suspect the reason he likes MY music is
because on the rare occasion he can attend a show, he's
out late and eating all kinds of snacks !!!

Subharmonics For Food

Rough month. No work in sight for the bass player
until May. What's going on? Do people really
only need the squeally notes this month, or what?

I suppose, now that I finally got the picture upload
feature working, that I could be really dramatic and
include a picture of the monthly pile of bills with this
post . . . but, nah, too obvious.

For some reason, our creditors keep sending the bills
even when our income slows down. What's up with
that? Don't they understand budgeting?

I do, however, have UNPAID rehearsals with four
different bands coming up.

***Totally unrelated plug !!! We went to see a band called
The Duhks the other night. They were "folk" enough
for me, and "country" enough for my wife. I think
they're great. Check them out!

The CD

Here's my band's CD. There's a link to it over there on the right if you want to hear some sound samples. A magazine in France thought it was fantastic.....one of our favourite US reviews simply said, "Nice picture".

Psycho Chicken, Qu'est-ce Que C'est ?

This is the crazed phantom that lives inside my head....
really!

Fifteen

Pondering the number 15 today....beyond its tax-filing
deadline significance - I filed my taxes and spent
my tiny "regular guy-sized" refund two months ago.

Let's think '15 minutes'.....

- if you're not 15 minutes EARLY to your appointment at the
doctor, they take the next patient. If you don't show up at all,
they bill you for their time...but they don't pay YOU for saving
them time!!! And they don't reimburse you if THEY are late.

- the sub/pizza shop in the town where I grew up quoted 15 minutes
no matter what you ordered. Pizza? "15 minutes."
Five different sandwiches? "15 minutes." A salad? "15 minutes."

- it takes my son AT LEAST 15 minutes to get dressed before
school. That time is slashed considerably on weekends, for some
reason.

- my car can burn about $1.30 in gasoline in 15 minutes. Well, that's
the 'good' car. The other (ancient) car probably burns $4 in gasoline
just by starting the ignition. But to tie it into the theme, that car gets
about 15 gallons to the mile! It's like owning a Hummer, without
the intimidation factor.

- there's always Warhol's "Fifteen Minutes of Fame". But, these days,
with people jumping at every opportunity to be on camera anywhere
and everywhere (think of the sports fans who go nuts every time
there's a crowd shot, for example), I figure the average person's
15 minutes are used up before he/she is very old.

"Next!!!!"

Sucking in the 00s

My wife is convinced I have a problem.

It all started when we bought a red area rug that
really shows the dust on the floor. I started
running the vacuum every day just to keep the
rug looking presentable. But then I discovered
something: vacuuming all the time helped my
allergy problem A LOT - which only encouraged
me to do it more.

Then my wife started making suggestions that
perhaps my relationship with the vacuum was more
of an "affair" . . . well, alright, then. I've started to do it
when she isn't home. If she walks in on me, she gives
me "the look". At least I haven't named the machine.
Yet.

There's nothing wrong with what I'm doing.
She just doesn't understand us. Yeah, that's it.

(Did I mention the special attachments?? Um . . .
never mind . . . )

Um.....what?

"We just bought our house brand new 10 years ago. It was only
six years old."

---customer overheard in a restaurant today, complaining about
home repair expenses

Something Uplifting, For a Change

Alright, already!! Quit your griping, Mr. L. !!
Spring is here! Can't you feel it??

OK. Let's take a break from (you know who).

GOOD STUFF:
The weather is fantastic.

Within a week, I'll probably shut the furnace off for six months
(sorry, Dubya 'n' Dick).

I went to the driving range yesterday.

I can still hit a golf ball only half as far as Tiger Woods
(but who cares? It's golf, not snow shoveling!!)

The searing headaches I've had for the last year have begun
to subside since I started seeing a homeopath (much to the
chagrin of the neurology department at my hospital).

Saturday is "guy's night out" - my wife has to work, which
means I'll be painting the town with my five-year-old son.
Chances are good that when my wife comes home, she'll
find the two men in her life sprawled on the living room
floor, passed out from a sugar high . . . if all goes well !
And what more could a woman want?

Buy DogBonds!

Support the war effort. Buy DogBonds.
Evil ideas don't come cheaply.

Wait. Maybe they do. Someone suggested I fill a spray
bottle with water and dishsoap, and spray the offending
dogs when they bark. I was told this had two benefits:
first, the soap stings the eyes; second, when the dog
licks the soap off its fur it will get diarrhea (probably
when it's back inside the house).

Wow. Nasty. I don't think I'll go that way. If it would
work on the dog's owner, well, maybe!

Someone else suggested electric fencing. I never liked that
stuff, even for cows. Probably because my introduction to
electric fencing was leaning up against a cow fence in Vermont,
not knowing it was electrified. A few seconds later . . . zzzzt!
Won't do THAT again!

When I was growing up, my father had a can of "dog repellent"
spray in the basement. I don't ever remember him using it, but
later, when I lived in the house by myself, I had a neighbour who
insisted on stopping her dog at my front bushes to pee every day.
I wondered if that stuff worked. I thought about the fact that,
whatever the stuff was, I couldn't find it on the shelf at the store
anymore (i.e., it was probably something really bad that was no
longer made, but I couldn't prove it).

I sprayed it on the bushes. The neighbour approached with the
dog. The dog started to run away, straining at the leash. The
woman, to her credit (?), fought as hard as she could to FORCE
the dog to pee on our bush - dragging the poor thing back every time
it ran off - but it ended when I stuck my head out the door and said,
"Everything OK out here?" . . .

But I digress. Buy DogBonds. Or send ideas. Or old cans of
dog repellent spray.

..And the War Has Begun...

I snapped last week. After what I thought had been a
reasoned conversation with the "Spawn of the Bitch" next
door about our little border dispute (I went to the police
department and discovered they are totally WRONG),
I happened to be standing at a window when I saw the following:

Some people were walking by on the street. SotB was in her
yard smoking cigarettes with her dogs along for the second-hand
smoke. The dogs took off for the fence, straining against it,
trying to break through and barking BARKING BARKING.
SotB grinned from ear to ear and kept on leisurely puffing away
on her cigarette for over a minute before "attempting" to call the
dogs back with her usual screaming and whistling.

That was it for me. She thinks it's all a big joke. Now it's war.
I say, "Muzzles all around!!!!"