CHAPTER ONE: The Power of Three
We've all heard this question, or some variant of it, at one time or another: What is your favorite _______ of all time? For some reason, this popped into my head last week complete with the blank, and I spent a brief moment thinking about it in the context of music. I really couldn't come up with just one song that I could listen to ad infinitum. When I thought about it in terms of musical groups, it was a bit easier. Yes, I realize that I did skip over the category of 'greatest album', for much the same reason that i skippped over the category of 'greatest song'. Since the word 'greatest' in and of itself is purely dependent on your perspective, I think I will drop it entirely and rephrase the question thusly: If you were on a desert island and could only listen to one musical group for the rest of your life, who would it be? I know the desrt island part has no real relevance on the rest of the question, what with GPS, I-pods, and the like, but freakin work with me here.
I approached this from the rather boring perspective of looking at my stacks of CD's and figuring out which ones were most consistently in my player. That rather simple step got me down to a mere three groups. Then I noticed an odd consistency between those three groups. Had nothing to do with musical style, content, or presentation. Wierdly enough, the were all trios.
My knowledge of bands that are also trios is limited enough to make me think this was somewhat of an oddity. Perhaps all bands now are mandated by law to be trios. Don't really care, since I thought this whole situation was odd to begin with. Anyway, my list is comprised of the following: ZZ Top (always been a trio, always had the same members), The Presidents of the United States of America (always been a trio, had a slight lineup change), and Blue Man Group (go ahead, bitch all you want about this one. they're a trio to me. NYAH NYAH NYAH!).
If severly pressed I think I could narrow it down to one, but I think I may save that for another posting. Let me leave you with this, though. If any band you wanted (irregardless of deaths or breakups) were to perform a concert for you that consisted of one, and only one, of their songs, who would it be and why?
CHAPTER TWO: 'Possum Bonk
This week provided me with the funniest moment that I have had this year on my bicycle. Right at the beginning of my ride the other day, I saw something making its was across the road up ahead of me. After watching it move, and seeing its tail, I was convinced I was riding up on th e first opossum I had seem this season. I managed to catch it in the beam of my headlight, which not only confirmed its identity, it made the sucker start moving double time towards the woods on the other side of the road.Now this is where the story takes what could be percieved as a cruel turn. Myself, after feeling an instantaneous pang of guilt, decided that it was the funniest thing I had seen in a very long time, and proceeded to laugh so hard I almost dumped my bike right in the middle of the street. So, here's what happened: I'm not sure if this critter had its eyes on me as I was approaching, or if it just had the crappiest eyesight in the world, but instead of hopping up over the concrete curb, it plowed headllong into it at top opossum speed. Now, that does seem to be a bit sad/cruel. But the sound that this collision caused was wht made it funny. Not quite as dull as a 'thunk', not as sharp as a 'crash', it was this dull, yet resonant sound that carried all the way across the street. After thinking about it time and again, the closest comparison that I can draw is if you were to hold a bowling ball five or six inches above a thin rug over a cement floor and drop it, that would be close to the sound of a opossum skull whacking into a curb. I doubt it would be as funny as hearing it firsthand, but maybe you can get a sample of the experience that way. So this is what threw me into a fit of hysterics that damn near made me crash my bike. Which, now that I think about it, may have resulted in some sounds that the opossum may have found hilarious. For those of you more sensitive than I, when I looked back, there was no unconscious opossum laying at the side of the road. And by the way, the title of this section would be one of the most bitchin band names, EVER!!
CHAPTER THREE: Climb, You Bastards, Climb!!
Even though I thought I had gotten a good emergence on my morning glories this year, they really seem to have gone into 'pause' mode. So far only a few have gotten to the top of the fence, and even those look a tad spindly. The scarlet runner beans seem to be a different story, though. Several of those have hit the fence top, and I have already started training them down the rail. It should be neat to see what they look like once they get a bit more leafed out. And, if I remember right, the beans they produce are actually edible. Not that I have any idea why that should be at all important. The pumpkins are really taking off, too. I think I may have planted way too many, but Hell, what's a few more vines growing around the place. Plus, I get to have my own pumpkins for Halloween, even if I end up not having the big bash this year. So, I guess it's time to haul out the secret ingredient:Miracle-Gro!
CHAPTER FOUR: Doctor, My Eyes
There were a couple of days this week where I walked outside and I had to rub my eyes to make sure I was seeing what I though was seeing. It was one of those days when the quality of the sunlight is such that it just makes all the colors seem so sharp and vibrant they're almost unreal. When you look at the leaves of a tree against this sky that is so blue it almost looks fake, and you just can't stop looking at it. Something amazing about a day like that. And yes, I am still clean and sober.
CHAPTER FIVE: Mass Issues
Six days till my journey to scopeland. Fortunately for me (sorry Pimp Daddy SC!), I'm getting the top end checked and not the bottom. What I didn't realize, until Pinklady mentioned it to me, is that Quint died of esophageal cancer. Not really what I wanted to hear right at this particular instant. And of course, so far today is basically symptomless. Having second thoughts about throwing away a day off to have this done. Of course the phrase 'mediastinal mass' really has connotations that I do not like.
CHAPTER SIX: Safe. For Now...
The invasion of the Japanese beetles continues unchecked. When the Terminix guy came on Tuesday, he delivered the unfortunate news that there was nothing they could do for them since they weren't a 'location pest'. I guess that means since they just move around where ever they want to go there isn't really any way to control them chemically. Not really what I wanted to hear. The earwigs, though, are in line for a major fucking up. Still, it does seem to be a bit lucky for me that even though the mass of them started right next door to my house, they seem to be moving away to the south. Either there's nothing in my yard they really want to eat, or the stuff in the other neighbor's yard is just tastier. I could get pheremone traps to catch them, but it seems those have the ability to draw beetles in from more than a mile away. I'm thinking 'no' to that option.
CHAPTER SEVEN: Musings
Just one image came winging into my pocket this week. By the light of the TV screen, I am intrigued and engaged yet again. And, after due contemplation, I think I'm ready to start prelim sketchwork on it. Pink may not be a color I work with often, but I find that the subject matter compells me.
CHAPTER EIGHT: What Gallery?
Cromag (aka Pimp Daddy SC) has requested a replacement for the photo gallery that had appeared on my old Myspace page. I am currently looking into that. He also requested to know the identity of the enigmatically mysterious Bluegirl. That I did not tell him. Many have complained about the frequency of my postings being a bit in the area between sluggish and non-existent, so I will make an effort to post things a bit more often. Anyone else got any complaints?
CHAPTER NINE: Not a Naked Chick to be Found....
For some strange reason I had a dream that I was back at what I thought was my old grade scholl to see Huey Lewis perform. Of course I didn't have a ticket. I also had another dream about a bug called a silver cicada. Doesn't exist, as far as as I know. But just the fact that freewheeling sexual fantasies are now being replaced with thoughts of mythical insects does not endear me to taking my meds. That kinda reminds me that since I've been skipping breakfast, I've also been skipping my meds, and I think I only have one dose left. One more thing to have to do tomorrow. Or, I could just go crazy, yet again.
*Aw, Nuts!:: From the Goalie, a gift of almonds. Perhaps a nut is just a nut?
*Garage Sale Hell:: I thought that was in Arkansas, not Washington...
*FIL Status::Grumpy and cranky, with outbursts of crabby and downright cantankerous. Banned by his doctor from playing more than 9 holes of golf at a time, and only on days when he won't sweat profusely, he is squarely in the bunk of an unhappy camper.
*Bestest Geekllist Ever!:: I think this is the best posting I've found on boardgamegeek to date! I've always wondered how to be a gentlegeek...
*All in the Family?::Really sucks when you find out just how many nuts there are in your family tree, right Kittyluv?
*That Doesn't Go There:: Seems I had forgotten how oddly enjoyable I find assmebling jigsaw puzzles.
*Up, Down, Up, Down:: A summer of dealing with someone's hot flashes causes me to think that I may have to find some way to lock up the thermostat or risk dying of exposure inside my own home. I suppose I could just sling my hammock up in the garage and sleep out there, if I really need to.
*It's Just a Pipe, Right?::I suppose I should consider myself lucky that I escaped from the mechanics with only a $250 bill. I have to consider it an act of extreme wisdom that Marty has Leslie working the desk. She had me grinning the whole time I was paying that bill. Damn her and her unflaggable cuteness!
*Ninjagirl Blues v 2.0 and 3.0:: Now that she knows who she is, I'll be rolling these out shortly.