PDX Operator

Friends don't let friends move to Portland.

2008-09-17T17:59:00.000-07:00

When I left town, I just got on the freeway.

No lingering, nostalgic drive through town.- And risk hitting one of the do-nothing layabouts badgering me for money?
It was an amazingly easy city to leave.

The pothead work ethic was one thing. But the thing I moved to PDX for: the hoped-for middle-class comfort zone- seems to have entirely disappeared from the US.

There were plenty of people driving the usual snooty nameplate cars. Does your self-image really need that car so much that you can't pay your employees a decent wage? You sad person.

There were plenty of people pushing their belongings in shopping carts, or riding Tri-Met without tickets. There were plenty of plump, tattooed white men in their 20's, butts pasted onto the sidewalks around Pioneer Square, insulting me as I walked by on my 15 minute break. Jobless, on the dole and proud of it, asking me for money.

A beautiful city, with so much precious, clean water it runs freely from drinking fountains throughout downtown. Made unlivable by stoner career bums.

Where was the *working* middle- class? Nowhere that I could find them. Maybe if I hadn't of been constantly, frantically trying to find a full-time job that paid more than 10 dollars an hour, I would have had more time to seek things out.

Shame on both of these groups. You've ruined my America- the one where all one has to do to get a job at a good wage with health insurance, is go in and work hard for the company. With that, one could live in a neighborhood with other hard-working people, who enjoy their lives and the city they create, free of harassment. To have a sidewalk cafe dinner without being bothered for money, by someone perfectly capable of getting their own.

I wish I'd gotten a picture of the well-fed under-25 white guy who sneeringly pushed up his sleeve and held his hand out to me as I exited a store. The inside of his arm. from elbow to wrist, was tattooed with "Beer Money," the arrow below it pointing to his palm. I felt afraid of the rage I felt, the strong urge to lash out at him physically. A vision danced through my mind: my bent head spitting into his palm.

What a waste of my time that 11 months in Portland was. Must be a good climate for growing pot.

Bad movie, anyone?

2008-05-25T00:45:00.000-07:00

Can't go home again- the popcorn feel of the originals is missing from this CGI wonderland.

My American Life here

2008-04-13T14:45:00.001-07:00

I find this amazing:

I can work for a company that employs thousands- but only part time.
I can want to work, and be denied work. Not because of any failing of mine, but simply because they don't want to pay health insurance. Twenty-five people work as little as four hours a day at part time jobs that would be good, full-time jobs for ten. It's a kind of hazing that everyone who has attained full-time status already went through. It's considered normal. For a retail company whose net worth is in the billions. Whose profits are unfathomable. And growing. Of course they're successful. They use American ingenuity and people in a two-tier, have and have not that profits off America's structure by stealing from Americans.
No sick days. No vacation. No health insurance.
-Wanna buy an extended warranty with that purchase?-

Does this sound like what you've heard about Starbucks? People that work there tell me SB pays health insurance to workers scheduled for as little as 20 hours a week. Sounds great, until you learn the work schedules are then maxed out at 19.75 hours.

My quality of life is reduced to begging for work every day, every week at a company that employs me. Funny how there's no time for fun or creative endeavors. Funny how I never have time to write. Funny how exhausted I am, without consecutive days off. A schedule that can have me working at 9AM one day or until 10PM the next.

-No, I'm not on commission. Yeah, I would be rich if I was on commission. Ha, ha, yeah funny!-

On my lunch "hour"-sometimes only a half hour, it varies!- I walk outside and am confronted by people with their hands out, begging. One guy even had "Beer Money" tattooed down the arm that ended in the outstretched hand.
This city's ability to allow this and look the other way is astounding. Where is the tipping point for this week's beggar to become next week's thief?

I was in a local store where the staff were menaced by someone high on drugs. They were trying to bodily keep the person out as the person slammed themself repeatedly into the glass door, trying to break it. Blood streaked down the miraculously unbroken pane as three of the stores' staff pulled on the handle and kept the criminal from getting in. Another staff member called the cops. In vain.

It's dangerous to shop in freestanding PDX stores. When called, the cops don't come. I was in there a couple weeks later and found out they'd had to stop a cop car in the street to get someone to come help. It's made me rethink my personal safety in a freestanding store.

A mall gives the illusion of safety. You may be personally safer than this beleagured streetside store. See the mall cop? That person is not going to stop a criminal, I'm told. They're there to police the sheep. Not the wolves.

the whole world looked to this country, this experiment in democracy. I can't get back the pride I once had in telling people I was American. Now I'm just another financier in open terrorism and murder of people in their own beds/homes/cities. How many bombs have I paid for this year?

Me Lurve Pitchfork.tv: The Thermals

2008-04-11T00:03:00.000-07:00

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Colin Powell's Curveball

2008-03-26T09:06:00.000-07:00

Whatever happened to Colin Powell? I know he's smarter than this.

"Operation Curveball", according to Spiegel- and a man still being hidden in Southern Germany.
A code name like that, and the world still took the bait?

Sweet Child of Mine Comments

2008-03-21T07:16:00.000-07:00

There's pages and pages of Comments for this GNR classic

This one's my favorite.
Initially funny, but not on second thought, were postings like, "dude, I'm 12 and this is my dad's favorite song we always crank it in the car." Apparently Guitar Hero has picked up a new brace of fans for Mr Saul Hudson.
Also chill-inducing were apparently real comments such as, "Great band. Who's the guy in the hat?"

Then there was this culture vulture:

(Velvet Revolver's "Contraband" is just as good, IMHO. )

Jeff's SXSW Press Kit

2008-03-14T21:22:00.000-07:00

A Moon at Saturn- NASA/JPL Blog

2008-03-14T06:52:00.000-07:00

Did you know NASA has blogs? UPDATE: I don't know of a way to communicate with the scientists, but the JPL website gives tour and lecture dates, as well as a page on how you can submit your ideas for research.

Chronicle of a mission happening right now.
Um, everyone is female? Where are the men?
Scientists don't write in exclamation points. And they don't describe their dinner to a world waiting to see the results of a mission's photographs.
Or has that changed too?

Bitstrips.com

2008-03-11T22:21:00.001-07:00

Oh, Good. Because there weren't enough interesting things on teh Interwebs before this lil piece of addiction came out.

PS You heard about this, right?

Bringing the Sexy- But How?

2008-02-29T09:40:00.000-08:00

Malcolm Gladwell's book, "The Tipping Point" put him on my short list of men who, for me, have got it going on.

He joins fellow members Clive Owen and Stanley Tucci, men whose singular wit, intelligence and charms are also known to many in the world. A recent airing of This American Life included audio from a speaking engagement Gladwell had had in New York.
Wonderful story, wonderfully told by him.
Here's the thing.
He said he'd been hired by a newspaper, but didn't have any real credentials. Sat at a desk for six weeks not knowing what to do. Six weeks? It wasn't an internship, either. My question: What magic bubble do some people live in where life is this easy? I've had temp jobs where he wouldn't have lasted half a day.
I'm awfully tired of the salt mines. The dark and the smell never changes. I'd love some time in the sun, but working hard with the idea I'll then get promoted isn't the ticket out I'd thought they were.

Arts & Letters Daily

2008-02-21T18:53:00.000-08:00

Here's a wonderful site

Challenging, interesting, thrilling. Wish I'd known of it sooner. It's as if I've been drinking toilet water when I could have had champagne.

Defamer: deleted

2008-02-21T08:18:00.000-08:00

Social commentary by people who can't compose language? Vapid prattle.

If what's published doesn't merit a spelling or grammar check by the author, why would I bother to read it?
A staff writer/videographer who cannot compose a shot, set an audio level or, while covering the writer's strike, recognize a writer of considerable cultural significance does not merit naming. One could speculate on whom she preformed sex in order to get the job. But one would have to care.

May the next sounds we hear be percussive ones, as your advertisers take their leave.
Feh.

The Dumbing of America

2008-02-20T06:13:00.000-08:00

Susan Jacoby's article in the Washington Post is linked here. It's a well-researched accounting of facts and numbers illustrating the relationship between Americans and their media in recent history.

She quotes Ralph Waldo Emerson: "The mind of this country, taught to aim at low objects, eats upon itself."

Is our national dullness driving the media, or are we a product of the media pablum we've been fed?

Image credit: http://www.seanlarsen.com/images/dunce.jpg

Heart Gallery of Oregon

2008-02-17T04:50:00.000-08:00

This is Heart Gallery of Oregon

Happy Le Hearts and Le Flowers and Stuff

2008-02-14T00:05:00.000-08:00

I meant to have one of these (love) by Christmas, hell; let alone by V Day.

Shoot, by now I was hoping I'd be having to bite down so I didn't accept a Proposal before Daylight Savings Time ends. I don't know what that means. But I moved here to a. Fall in love and b. Fall in love.
In that order.
Instead, I find I'm still mooning over That Man, who is at least one continent's width away, if not the Atlantic as well, and says he doesn't want us and while I don't think he can't walk away any more than I can, I don't have any more time to live alone waiting for him. Hell, whatever. It's only Everything.
Meanwhile, I moved here for the local talent.
I need the job/career thing to get resolved already, so I can focus on the important stuff. Like, love. I'm typing this as Lionel Hampton's vibes thrill to him playing "Tenderly"... you know what I'm sayin.
---
If you've got it, enjoy it, eh?
Meanwhile, Feb 15th an official holiday for single women: chocolate, 50% off.

Temping in the Wilderness

2008-02-13T02:18:00.000-08:00

I could easily write a book on Temping

It's like being a waitress- a book that would write itself.

Temp jobs are not fabulous opportunities that by some terrible trick of Fate have gone overlooked by the sleek and skilled set. They're jobs no one else wants. In fact, someone else has likely walked off the job. That's why the employer has been caught flat-footed and had to call a temp agency.

However, the employer has learned nothing from the walkout. Whatever factors caused the original person or persons to refuse to stay there- even for money- still exist. Add indignant anger to a backlog of undone work. Cue the hapless temp.

Today, for example. I'm Day Two at a place I'll be at for 14 days, and I'm now counting the remaining days. Yesterday's lunch conversation by two other workers ran a gamut of Mole Surgeries That Had to Be Redone and the Deep Stitches That Had to Be Gone In and Dug Out (both persons able to contribute their own detailed stories) to The High Price of Mac and Cheese In a Supposedly Nice Restaurant, to The Stuff I'm Coughing Up Right Now With This New Flu Bug That's Going Around.

If this fell into a story I was writing, I'd toss it out in the first draft as the very dullest stereotyping. What to do when it's a factual account? I survived by thinking about what an interesting adventure into primitive society I was having. The mind as cultural machete, searching for footholds in a brackish, sucking ooze...

Today I was considered very witty, as they thought I made up the phrase "carbon footprint." Funny as when it came out of my mouth, I wondered if the saying had itself jumped the shark. Not with this crowd. They drive in from Vancouver and hadn't heard it before.

PS Illustration is apparently owned by these guys. A different Web address hops to this site.

I miss That (Imaginary?) Man

2008-02-13T01:47:00.000-08:00

Lynda Barry's genius art

Consumerism: Red, White and - Blue?

2008-02-10T06:11:00.000-08:00

Time has an interesting article about media, mood and shopping

Barbara Kiviat reports that "People who are sad tend to be willing to pay more for things — it's like going to the grocery store on an empty stomach..." She says they made two groups of people, showing a sad video to one group and the other group watched one about the Great Barrier Reef.

Then they showed then an object and asked both groups how much they'd pay for it. The people who'd been made sad said they would pay more for it.

I've seen people angrily asking why the 9/11 video and the recorded phone calls are played. Now their feeling that they are being manipulated is underscored by this study. Kiviat reports that the study was conducted by researchers at Carnegie Mellon, Harvard, Stanford and the University of Pittsburgh and will be published in the June issue of Psychological Science.

Sensationalist reporting is good for business and now you understand why your newspaper looks the way it does. It's a hand on your wallet.

Yes, We Can.

2008-02-04T20:53:00.001-08:00

I watched this and felt Happy

2008-02-04T15:50:00.000-08:00

I got the Rent and I got me some Lionel

2008-02-02T01:04:00.000-08:00

Nothing says Rainy Night at Home better than a fine collection of Lionel Ritchie music.

I had the nicest day today* so cruised on over to Everyday Music. Saw this collection of Lionel Ritchie music that seems to be everything on "Can't Slow Down" and then some. "Sail On" indeed. I grinned to myself at the polite inner lip biting of the EM clerk and brought the disk home, where it now resides as 192Kbps files on my LaCie.
I'd forgotten how well-written and produced his music was. What a delight.

*thank you, Portland.

In Praise of Spandex

2008-01-26T17:51:00.000-08:00

I enjoyed the fellow I saw downtown today in the kilt. Men in kilts are hot hothot.

But I was just as happy that, when a gust of wind caught him, he was wearing spandex bike shorts underneath.
Thank you and ... Och! thank you.
Now maybe if he'd looked like this

Hey. Writers. Don't Sell Your Baby. IndieGoGo it.

2008-01-19T21:39:00.000-08:00

It had to happen. Reinvention of the movie industry.

The whole thing that kept movie studios going was Access to the Money, Contracts with the Actors, and Distribution. Did you see Steve Job's keynote address at Macworld? The new Air doesn't even have an optical drive. Stuff's going to stream on WiFi broadband in a rental model. Something that's been the logical next step for awhile.

Actors have been stepping out and looking at their own production companies for a while now. Some are doing it profitably, running real businesses and getting good scripts for themselves. For others it's just a vanity thing. But they're no longer behind an iron wall. With a little diligence, you can get to people.

The Money remained the hurdle. Unless you could find a group of dentists who wanted to be part of a glamourous Hollywood deal (and they're out there, those dentists) you were kinda screwed.

Enter IndieGoGo, which I've just read about. If this link times out, it went to a Reuters site. I don't know if they have Permalink.

Killer conceptual execution, a very graceful and well-written website. I prowled this little beauty today and threw up a couple things to hold my place while I try to think of how I wanted to use it. There was a group called "Inktip" a few years ago- I put my rom-com up there, some guy asked to see it, and "passed." Very strange to find a novel was "written" by someone in his state a year after that script had gone out, with one word changed in the title and a plot and subplot exactly like mine, except clunky where they changed some details.

The point is, keep your material and find your own money and actors. That's what most real creative types have always wanted anyway. Now with HD cameras, you can. But check out this site and see if it, or others that will likely spring up to copy it, work for you.

Job Interview

2008-01-19T10:10:00.000-08:00

You looked me in the eye

And said Why
Do you want this job so I
Had to tell you I thought I’d be the best

Because of my experience
And we did a little dance
With words and phrases hence
When the other guy tried to get a word in edgewise we’d let him sometimes

I tried to tell my story and not to showboat or brag
It wasn’t too often that there would be a lag
I’d like to think I had it in the bag
But you’re seeing more people all this weekend

You said you’d let me know next week
Would it be pushy if we speak
In the meantime about something completely geek
You liked too, that was part of MacWorld’s webcast

You gave me the nicest smile
Even for Portland, nicer than I’ve seen in a while
Like you actually liked me
And thought I’d be a good employee and I think I would be

It’s hard to know just what to say
And sucks that there’s this damn delay
Be better to know what’s up today
So I can get on with things

Still Sayin' Sprint is #1

2008-01-17T06:26:00.000-08:00

Update: I heard the news today oh boy...
Yet another wonderful customer service experience with Sprint the other night. I like being their customer...

Ace Sprint Girl Detective Novagirl has sleuthed out the answers, and quite kindly and charmingly, too. Wish I had an email address to write back to her... You've saved me. Thank you very much.
Sprint's the best, you guys. Try talking to these people instead of going in mad at your boss and loaded for bear.
These people take this sort of job because they like people and like talking to them. Let em be nice to you.
It'll change your day, I promise you.

ScratchPDX

2008-01-12T18:19:00.000-08:00

Put this on your calendar for Saturday the 26th:

ScratchPDX

Improv Everywhere- PDX No Pants 2k8 on Saturday

2008-01-11T22:21:00.000-08:00

Looking at the Improv Everywhere website

The most interesting thing here is the Comments following the performances are delighted and wistful, begging the "group" to "come" perform in their city. What never occurrs to the majority of the posters is they are the group. They only need to activate themselves.
Maybe that's changed of late, with the groups forming to create this work. No Pants.
Then again, I wouldn't be surprised if Portland invented this urban performance art to begin with.
Keep Portland Weird!

Neighborhood Art Gallery

2008-01-10T23:17:00.001-08:00

Delicious.

Bad Date

2008-01-06T18:40:00.000-08:00

I've identified the hardest part of a bad date...

It's the moment that I realize I'm not going to get to hear the rest of the person's story. Their life will go on, but I won't know what will happen. What about the job? What about the person their heart called out to, who didn't answer? How did the project turn out? I'm invested in these stories, but there's no room for me to remain. And we both know it as I buy my own Voodoo Doughut: 99 cents you don't want to spend. An honest and clean hurt; the date invitation withdrawn and morphed into "hanging out." It's OK.

There's the unloved and lonely walk home in the cold night at the small-numbered hour, as it starts to rain just like in the movies.
Turns out it's harder than it looks to be in a movie.

Forget Britney- Read This

2008-01-05T15:13:00.000-08:00

Glenn Greenwald's article on Salon.com, and the Letters in response.

Image, link and article are copyrights of Salon.com

Why isn't this all over the other media outlets?

New Year's in Portland

2008-01-01T14:42:00.000-08:00

My, there was sickness in abundance on the streets last night. Now's when we could use a good rain, I'll bet.

I would liked to have spent the early evening walking around downtown and people-watching, but took my Tri-Met limo (aka bus) and didn't make the scene until about 10:30. The long lines outside then prompted me to land Somewhere Inside Where It Was Warm.

What a blast. Portland, you throw a nice party.

I spent the first hour or so trying to remember how to act in a club. I never went out in LA. The velvet rope thing is so wearing and it's everywhere that has decent music. So being out -or more accurately, being let in- on a New Year's Eve was pretty cool.

My very favorite thing about Portland is what I call "the Portland smile" which you lovely people seem to have for everyone you make eye contact with. Even hammered, you goofy lovely things. I'm often struck by how similar the PDX vibe feels to my actual hometown, which is back in Alaska- but I don't remember us *smiling* at each other like people do here. Probly because we were too drunk.
Anyway, the good times started after I finally got into the formerly sold-out Prince v Michael Jackson dance fever event. Danced myself into a joyous frenzy in the forgiving crowd.

Ah, the native Portland man, such a gentleman. Met one who saw to it I went home in a cab, rather than the arctic wait for Tri-Met I'd steeled myself for. And you PDX ladies looking fine in your sparkly little party dresses: god love ya for your verve, though I was freezing just looking at you.

The topper was the early-evening scene on Broadway with a pretty bride and her wedding party getting some very glamorous photos taken in the street in front of the Theatre. Please baby Jesus, let my punk digital camera's flash have caught something of that... I join all the delighted smiles and honking horns of the people in the area in sending Best wishes to that couple.

Artist Dan Perjovschi

2007-12-30T00:23:00.000-08:00

As photographed by Andrew Baron
Wonderful work on his Flickr gallery

The Walk Home Teaches Me

2007-12-29T21:32:00.000-08:00

I've been walking home from work the last couple of days.

It's lovely out of course; winter Portland weather. Dark, so I can admire the downtown cityscape and then, the reflections above the shiny river. I house-shop, picking one and then another house to be my ultimate residence. Vanity, or comfort? I grin at my flip-flops. There's just enough variety in the drizzle to make me picture the variations in the clouds above. I love this climate. I love the smells of the soil, cuddled in its new blanket of leaves, a solstice gift from the trees above. The smell of bark and cedar, juniper and holly. Perfect.

The bus was taking me through this route, too fast. The drivers at night are philosophers, given to commentary on the world that whirls past our fishbowl view, in a way the daytime drivers seem uninterested in. (In LA, the busses have signs saying Don't Talk to the Driver.) As charmed and warmed by these encounters as I've been, I still like the speed that Home comes to me when I walk.

It's infinitely preferable to being alone in my car, at least for commuting. In LA, I'd informally polled people on whether they would take mass transit or not. Most would reply that it's impractical for their route, hours, etc. I could tell most had not even considered it. The more honest ones would say, "I need my alone time."

For me, that "alone time" had a large percentage of literal screaming and sobbing. Funny how the "need" to do that diminishes on mass transit and disappears when I walk. Coincidence?

I loathe commuting. It's boring, wasteful and bourgeois. It teaches people to not care about the problems that pass by one's gaze. Whereas, if one's "commute" is one's own neighborhood, one stays engaged. Why is that garbage sitting there? Why is that building being neglected? Why are their so many homeless people gathering in that area? It's different when it's your neighborhood. And oddly, I noticed that the longer a person's commute was, the more limited a conversationalist they seemed to be. Coincidence?

People tell me that I'll really enjoy the days getting longer and the fantastic spring bloom that overtakes Portland. I respond that it's pretty great now.

End of the Year Omelette

2007-12-29T21:19:00.001-08:00

Whilst cooking what turned out to be a perfect omelette for my dinner, I had a thought

The omelette was magnificent- free range eggs, spinach, brown rice with toasted sesame seeds, fresh-ground black pepper and cinnamon, with slivers of pepper jack and sharp cheddar. Photogenic in the pan. I paused to admire it, and thought of the journey the ingredients had each taken to reach this point. The benevolence of strangers in wanting me to have these gorgeous things to eat. How blessed I was to have them.
Life took on a glow at that point.
--
It feels good to finally "get it."
PS the photo I've used is owned by this New Zealand website

YouTube Is My Life

2007-12-26T00:28:00.000-08:00

Santa Loves Portland

2007-12-25T20:20:00.000-08:00

All the Best children live in Portland. With the possible exception of the little boy who pulled Santa's beard, right before this little girl came up.
See? It was real, because Santa is real.
And you better not have made Santa mad, or we won't get any presents.

A White Christmas in Camelot

2007-12-25T19:53:00.000-08:00

This enchanting town doesn't miss a trick.

I was writing away on my resident slice of Mac magic, and got up for more coffee to see- SNOW! Fat snowflakes falling, a white Christmas. I haven't been in a place with snow in years. I love that it snowed on Christmas. I also love that it didn't stick! : >

Here's a pic I took of my little Rudolph. I was going to write a whole story about "Giant Rudolph Takes Over City, Vows Revenge for Childhood Bullying" or some such. But I saw some other things like that, notably a dub of the "Scrubs" people to the Charlie Brown Christmas Special" and it made me sad, And angry. I'd thought it was going to be a homage. So, I'll put this on here to confess that yeah, I thought I was real clever, too. But I'm not writing the rest of what I was going to write. Besides, I watched all my Christmas Specials again this year. That Rudolph is already got some bizarre subtext to it! But I love it (the restored version with the extra songs) and enjoyed it.

Hope you had a happy and joyous day.

' "Loft Ceilings! Stone Surfaces Throughout! " ' Pop-Tarts, History and the "Spendy" Home

2007-12-22T20:26:00.000-08:00

Know why those European castles are abandoned and crumbling? How come Nic Cage was able to buy one?
They're colder than *crap* to live in.
So, why are we rebuilding them?

Fred Flintstone made that whole all-stone construction thing looks good, didn't he? Seems like all a man needs is to throw on a pelt in a cave of his own? Well, darling Fred was a shill who sold out to anyone who'd offer and here's the proof. Smoking!

That bare floor of yours is a heat-sucking Vampire. You were safe in bed. The Floor Vampire planted the thought of a delicious, crispy-fruity toasted Pop-Tart in your head. To have it, you must venture into the flagstone-floored kitchen, and this thought has made you cry. The Floor Vampire was lying in wait for you to venture out, and now, it has you. Feel it drain the life from your body as you pray in vain for the Pop-Tart to toast. You may make it back to bed with the Pop-Tarts, but you will have to crawl. Your former feet will be frozen to the floor.

Even before there were Pop-Tarts to lust after, people would throw hides and rushes down on those floors in self-defense. Wasn't this why we invented lineoleum? And moved to the city, selling the stone houses to idiotic American actors?

So OK, it's a stone floor. Why not fire up the heat? This works great. Below the loft ceiling, temperatures are snuggly-warm- - far, far above your head. The floor, as they say, remains unchanged. The resulting heating bill will enslave you.

Maybe a quick sandwich in your super-fab all-stainless steel kitchen? The peanut-buttered knife left in the shiny sink, makes the sink Rust. Feh. This is why our Creator gave us the miracle of Porcelain.

I predict the next design revolution takes us back to the easy-to-live-in 60's ranch houses, with wipe-clean countertops, porcelain sinks and linoleum floors- as a condo. Throw some thick, 70's wall-to-wall carpet in the den. Gimmie something heatable and livable. With Energy Star appliances, of course.

This Boycott Hurts Me a Great Deal

2007-12-21T19:42:00.000-08:00

I adore this brilliant show. I watch the clock for the time I can see each new episode. Yet I've never seen it on TV. I don't even own a TV.

I've probably watched each of the Season One shows online 5 times each. Except for the Isabella Rossellini/ Paul Ruebens episode, which I've seen easily 15 times. Ads and all, advertisers.

But I am not watching any more online broadcasts until the writers and other guilds get paid for it. I'm talking to you, advertisers. Ad agencies. Why are you putting up with this strike? Having the nets refund your money is nothing compared to losing eyeballs in your key demographics. You can't get this fourth quarter back. Explain to the execs at your lucrative car account, how your unseen media campaign is selling their cars for them-? Maybe you want to encourage your obsolescence as the move to product placement increases? (The people at Snapple are geniuses. They've gone from bathroom break facilitators to snarky, self-referential "In" crowd members.)

Tell the AMPTP to get the lead out or your industry will die.

Thank You to Nancy at Sprint

2007-12-17T04:47:00.000-08:00

It's counter to everything that is said about cellular service.

But not only have I gotten great customer service in the five years I've been with them, last Friday Nancy at Sprint did me a tremendous kindness. Thank you, dear heart.
-I tried to call you back and they said it wasn't possible to find you.

Peacock Lane

2007-12-16T16:03:00.000-08:00

A longtime resident has already clued me in to Peacock Lane. It's definitely on my Go See List (this image is from their website)

When Getting Lost is Better than the Original Plan

2007-12-15T09:53:00.000-08:00

Someone emailed me a newsletter describing an art event with an address on SE Grand. I tried to find it and didn't. None of the shopkeepers I talked to in that area knew what I was talking about. Whatevs, then.

But I did get to meet Richard at Shoppeople. His card says 416 SE Oak, and Google says this coffeeshop is 422 SE Grand. Guess that's because they have all that art production space- do check out their website for the story.

This is a lovely and cool place well worth getting lost to find. Coffee, comfy chairs for serious lounging and art for sale all around the room.

Big windows for people-watching as they have the corner store. Funny and nice mix of music playing at the perfect level for solo listening or to talk over without shouting. Winner.

I'm having a refreshing latte while owner Richard commiserates with me on being lost. And their boffo iMac I'm typing this on is a wayback machine with a hockey puck mouse. Yesterday's technology today!

PS All the parking immediately around this cool area is one hour or half hour (!). I can't get anything done in a half hour. But go a couple blocks east and south nearer the auto repair shops and it's 2-hour.

Update 2: I never did find that other event.

Movie Date for One Doubles in Size

2007-12-15T08:46:00.000-08:00

There's magic at the movies, if you can just believe...

Saw "Romance and Cigarettes" last night at Cinema 21. I hadn't seen anything written on it, so went in blind. Then I had to adjust myself to what I was seeing. Now I need to know if that's really Susan Sarandon singing the Janis Joplin cover, and I'm reminded that going on a date with Eddie Izzard is on my "To Do" list.

Anna was behind the ticket window last night.

After I succumbed to her sales pitch and was buying the requisite large buttered popcorn for one, Anna told me a story.

Seems there's a man who also frequents the Cinema alone, of that New York type. Anna radiates a gentle kindness and humor, so when she was imitating him it was like watching a ballerina with a jackhammer.

The guy likes to ask (demand?) of her if he's going to meet any women there, to which she replies that you never know. So when he actually made his love connection, it played out right in front of her. He was doing his schtick, bantering with another woman "who was just as loud and obnoxious as him," and it ended with the two going out the door for coffee. Or began, depending on how you look for it.

I asked if they'd been back in as a couple, and Anna said not yet that she'd seen. We can only hope.

I like this story. Something similiar once happened to me.

I ran down the aisle of my hometown movie theatre literally as the lights were dimming on a packed house for the premiere of "ET." A miracle seat on the aisle was open next to a handsome young guy who was there, as it turned out, alone. The movie was enchanting. The handsome guy's murmured asides were witty and made me laugh. By the time the movie ended, I felt like we were already friends.

He was an EMT in the Coast Guard, one of those guys that goes out in the chopper on those hairy Search and Rescues, when people on fishing boats are injured and the ship's in trouble. Adrenaline junky. He took me for a ride on his motorcycle and we started one of those "Mr/Ms Right" romances. It ended when we both left, I to start college and him to become a heart specialist and marry a nice Jewish girl but the point is just like Anna says, you never know.
That's why I buy the large popcorn.

A Bicycle for Christmas

2007-12-14T00:26:00.000-08:00

I'm getting into the holiday spirit this evening. Got me thinking about a (true!) story of mine from a few years ago...

I was working at a hugely awful place and the one bright spot was a woman who I'd see for a couple hours every day, as our shifts overlapped. She had this lovely kind heart. She also read and loved my romantic comedy feature film script (then freshly written) and was a big supporter long before anyone else was on board.

Her son was about 9 or 10 years old and the sweetest kid. They didn't have much money left over after all the bills were paid and I got this sneaky idea I was going to buy the boy a bike for Christmas. I scoped out a rough and tough boy's bike at Toys R Us and they had some excellent stuff to go with it, like cool screw-on air valve covers that were skull and crossbones, and a "real" license plate stamped with the boy's name. I was really having fun getting this bike and wheeling it to the cash register. Everyone around me was grinning at me and catching the vibe. I told a couple people what I was doing. We had a pretty jolly checkout line.

I had the bike at home for a couple of days and got all the stuff put on it. Just as an off the cuff idea, I then made a big card out of construction paper and wrote a poem to the boy from Santa. In the poem, I wrote (taking dictation from Santa, of course) that Santa was so impressed with what a good boy this child had been and how proud his mother was of him- you know, in that vein. Wish I could remember it as the rhyming was pretty tight and I was happy with it. I tricked it all out with silvery ink and glittery things and signed it "Santa."

None of this was known to my friend. On Christmas Eve, I put on my Santa hat and drove over to her apt, then phoned her from the street to come down alone. She did and I told her I was working for Santa, then popped the hatch and pulled the bike out of my car. She burst into tears and gave me a big hug, which was pretty great and very moving. I gave her the card and she went sobbing and wheeling it back to her apt.

I thought she'd have to give it to the boy right then, but she told me later that she'd managed to get back inside and hide it out on their balcony and then he got it Christmas Day.

Here comes the best part of this story. Get out your hankies.

The best part of the present, in her son's opinion?

The card to him from Santa. She said he marveled at it. Carried it around all day and kept looking at it.
--
It's not often that I get to be great, seems like. Most of the time when I check in at the Church of the Bathroom Mirror, I'm reminded that I know I could do better and yet I choose not to give things that little extra push. That's a flincher moment. So, it's nice when Santa has work for me and I do the job right. Gives me hope.

Hope you are enjoying your Christmas shopping this year.

Is This Your Snowbank?

2007-12-13T22:37:00.001-08:00

Perfectly cold out tonight. I'm watching Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer on DVD. And Santa Claus is Coming to Town. I own em all and just got the box out today.

I got the Grinch and of course Charlie Brown.
So funny all the years melt away when I watch these stories and I'm a little kid in my flannel feetie pajamas in front of my grandparent's TV. My brother and I waited all day for the magical broadcast.
Now it seems magical to own these and be able to watch them whenever I want.

Geeks, a Treehouse and Alex's Great Story

2007-12-11T22:00:00.000-08:00

A Treehouse and cavorting geeks were in abundance at the Innotech-hosted Brain party. If you saw it on Upcoming you should've been there. Zowee. Thank you, Innotech!

The event was held in the very cool Backspace Cafe, it of the mostly famous treehouse and game rooms that I'd wanted to see after reading about it on another PDX blog. I met several great people at the event, most notably Web Designer and Technical Writer Dan. Once we started talking about the Matrix, my plans to network and get some business cards were not looking doable. Things really went to hell when we got onto the Animatrix, and I didn't even get to the part where I confess my love of Shinichiro Watanabe... I love talking to clever people. I took Dan's picture but my camera flash scotched it. Hopefully, there will be another opportunity!

Other people were clearly not who they appeared to be. There was Jonathan, with the tiger hiding under his shirt.

Behind the bar was Alex, who told me how he'd come to live in Portland.

Alex's description of Florida culture had the same dreary cast of castoffs as Los Angeles: self-elected Kings of Consumerville living far beyond their means; breathing in perfectly innocent air and rendering it useless. Alex told me it was clearly time for the journey Away to commence, but to Where? Deciding was done with a coin toss. I was so impressed by this that I forgot to write down where the other city was. Might have been Albuquerque. As we know, Portland won out. He told me he'd only been here about two weeks, when he "felt like someone had given him a present."
I can second that, while wishing I'd put it so enchantingly myself.

"More" Telephone oh Yeah

2007-12-10T22:27:00.001-08:00

I've been playing the beejeezus out of this 2-Disc album since buying it at EM last week. But Telephone's "More" has got me completely hooked. Y'know how a playing a song brings back the image of wherever you were when you first heard it? "More" sounds like taking the nighttime I-5 South past this lovely spit-shined city, zooming past the skyscrapers like George expletive-deleted Jetson.

It reminds me of early Cars without ripping that sound off. And I love the way it's shaped; again reminds me of the Cars and how Ric Ocasek seemed pushed back in the mix and in front of it at the same time. *MMMmm*

(And, how polite of these fine artists to play into the theme of my yakky little blog.)

Congratulations, Hank Failing! Genius album.

Now I've Seen Most Everything

2007-12-06T20:09:00.000-08:00

Which thrills me most?

1. Costco sells caskets and cremation urns
2. The above are available by Expedited Shipping

"Friend,
Do you find yourself still searching for the perfect holiday gift? Has Grandma INSISTED no more knick-knacks or tea cozies this year?

Imagine the face of your special someone on Christmas morning, as they come downstairs to see your thoughtful gift beneath the tree. Finally! A gift they'll really use!

Shop early for best selection as our most popular designs always sell out fast.

Please check the box on the Order Form if you'd like our Signature Gift Wrap for that extra holiday touch.
Returns Policy: Returns must be empty, in original container and in "like-new" condition. Subject to refusal if marred by semen, body fluids or personal lubricants. Dirt, spade marks or formaldehyde will also cause us to decline accepting the returned item for credit."

2007-11-25T14:47:00.000-08:00

An Excellent teaching

"Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results" Professor Einstein

________

Well worth a couple tanks of gas and a few hour's time behind the wheel, in exchange for what can be my freedom forever from wishful thinking in relationships.

Have you Read "Around the Sun" today?

2007-11-23T10:53:00.000-08:00

I love the "Around the Sun" blog. It radiates goodwill and a gentle kindness that I quite admire.
Lots of stuff listed there now for fun To-Do's tonight! Will you be there?

Full Circle

2007-11-22T23:25:00.000-08:00

Went on a day trip today. More about that later but it's amazing how much learning one can do in one day/behind the wheel.

Drove back into beautiful, glistening downtown PDX and as was promised me, the deer in the "Made in Oregon" sign now has a shiny red nose. Goes with my fluffy flannel sheets on my bed.

It's so great here. Bring on the holidays!! I'm so ready for a palm tree-free Christmas.

II. Update

Yesterday, I drove several hundred miles in traffic, only to find my destination was back at my starting point. Here's what I learned:

An "Invitation" tells someone of an event in a manner designed to have that person's presence at the event. Its chief feature is that it contains the time, date and place of the event.

A "Statement" --Wikipedia says that "a statement can be true or false"

I was presented with, "We'd love to have you for Thanksgiving." The address was missing, making this a Statement, not an Invitation. All parties (including me!) acted as though it was an Invitation. The issuer kept promising to give me the address and directions "later." I got so caught up in the sentiments being expressed that I didn't/ couldn't do my normal first step- Googling the address to get directions. I was "trusting" the speaker to take care of me, and to tell me how to get to the destination. I'm still working out in my head if that was their job. I'm pretty sure Miss Manners would say it was. But I wonder if I did indeed abdicate my role in taking care of myself, because I packed, gassed up the car and left, not knowing the destination or the address.

Oof.

Seeing that written out is illustration to me that this action was not logical. I got drunk on the, "Oh we can't wait to see you" and other things of that type. My repeated request for the address kept getting mixed in with other chat. Once I had fixed on this premise of being taken care of, I seem to have shut off my own thinking. When I'd ask for the address, the other person was saying "I'll get you the directions, just start up here."

I actually got as far as Seattle using this insanity as logic. By now I'm far from my laptop and Google. Without any other maps of the area, it's dawning on me that I'm helpless. On the phone, the other person was still saying she was going to get me the directions! Now I'm angry, but I'm trying to disguise it with a social veneer, "laughing" and saying will you give me the goddamn address already? I finally got the address, far too late to put into Google, make a map and save myself.

A vapid- sounding teen took the phone and gave me what sounded like directions. I thought I found the freeway exit but at its base I was presented with a "Y" instead of the "it only goes one way" that I was told. I called and they said, "What? Where are you? Drive toward town." That's not an instruction, when "town" is not visible, nor its direction known. It's conversation. This can't be parsed.

The weird thing was, no one I talked to could understand that I could only work with what was in front of me- "I'm on __ street at __street. Do I turn Right or Left?" And they'd say, "towards town." My voice is rising with my internal pressure. The setting sun is right at eye level as I'm trying to drive, talk on the cell, and look for street signs. I've been driving in heavy traffic since 11, and it's now 3PM. I kept trying to communicate to them. "I'm in front of __". Do I turn right or left? "Oh, I know right where you are. You're really close! Just come towards town, now." I reply "I don't know where Town is!" "Just keep coming down the road!" I drive for a bit and see none of the street numbers they tell me.

I've come to understand that what I think are normal questions are not going to get me answers and I'm desperate now, grasping for things they'll respond to. "Do I go towards the mountain or away from it?" "Toward!" I do so and the grid of streets disappear. "Wow, where are you? I don't even know where that is. You must be really lost." A man offered to come get me. I said, "If you can come get me, why can't you tell me how to get there?"

This insanity went on even longer until something horrible began to happen to me. I felt it starting to tear at my mind. My chest is heaving. My voice breaks as I beg some stranger on the phone for directions. It's literally torture.

I start to sob, and it's only now that I see myself, falling like a leaf. No. Suddenly I see that this is toxic. That stops it. I take care of myself. That's my first priority.

I shut off my phone and drive back to Seattle, where I once lived for several years and know my way around. I rest. I walk around Greenlake as the sun flops behind the trees. A man smiles warmly at me and my pretty outfit. I eat at a Capital Hill Asian noodle house, drive to look at the Space Needle from Queen Anne, do some thinking.

Instead of pleasantly joining a gathering as an adult and an equal, I'll stumble in as the overwrought, pathetic loser, the brunt of all the jokes. Even the children will lisp out some cutting remark. Or worse, I'll be pitied. Way too much of the wrong attention. I felt betrayed. A furious anger and despair washed me in waves. I was exhausted. The last thing I want to do is be in a room with this group.

This is precisely the sort of people and situation that cannot be in my life anymore. Look at what framed my world. A broken jigsaw puzzle, my own piece's image obscured by castoff wax and burrs until I couldn't tell where I should fit. Everything I did try was wrong. The relationship has a clear pattern. It is only what it is. But it must be respected. Wishful thinking will not change it.

In my world today, things are factual and knowable. Addresses are parsed by Google into directions; drawn as lines, printed as maps. According to my odometer, the distance from the point I gassed up in Seattle to my destination in Portland is 172 miles. Not "300." Southbound traffic was very light and that trip back took 2 1/2 hours. Northbound, in all the traffic the transit time was about 4 hours. Google says Everett is another 30 miles north of Seattle, not "100". Facts. I like facts. I like maps.

The genius of Google Maps is it presents one version of potential, and offers that as "what is." When it parses a request, the default reply leaves out the variables. One can find one's way. Things get easy.
It's probably saved a lot of relationships. It would have saved this one.

Earthquake Today!

2007-11-21T20:16:00.000-08:00

I see there was an earthquake here in Oregon today.

Y'know, I'd really like to have left those damn things behind in So Cal. But the reality is we live in the Ring of Fire, Earthquake Zone.
And Alaska gets their share of the damn things too.
Everybody's got something. And Kodiak had the additional thrill of having a tidal wave, after the big earthquake in '64. I'll take both over a tornado anyday. God those scare me the worst.

One of my parent's friends had a home movie (8 or 16mm film) of the tidal wave coming in over Kodiak, and we got to see it. I remember the harbor's breakwater rocks were just alive with zillions of rats beating it the hell out of there. Then I seem to remember the camera pans to the local mini-mountain, and you could see people running up the side of the mountain. Meanwhile this goof is standing there filming it coming right at him. It wasn't like a big cresting wave, it was just water rising way higher and faster than seemed possible. Left fishing boats sitting in the middle of what had been the downtown area.

Went a-Googling to find a picture for you, since I'm being so tangential, and found Timothy Smith's terrific account of the quake and wave, aka "tsunami."

A Holiday Message from Your Entree

2007-11-20T22:34:00.000-08:00

And a story

_____

"The Village" a lounge in Kodiak where I worked as a bratty 20-something cocktail waitress, used to close for Thanksgiving Day. The regulars were then invited back as a private party. Everyone dressed up and we'd spend the afternoon smugly yelling, "We're CLOSED!" to the lesser lights who tried the the doors and found them locked. With a potluck buffet and my boss, Ron Ball, graciously hosting the open bar, we lazed away the afternoon indulging our collective curiosity in the "top shelf" boozes. Entrees like Roast Duck made the "potluck" grub way better than what my clan was shredding each other over at home, although the level of drunkeness and resulting arguments were bone-numbingly familiar with both groups.

My family would slur, "I can't believe you'd rather be with those drunks you wait on every day than here at home with us." Hmmm. Clearly a specious argument, as it didn't factor in that the family never tipped me $20 for bringing them a free double Chivas rocks.

Other than waiting on customers with my mouth full, my contribution to the festivities was decor. I extended the event out by drawing smartass Thanksgiving-themed cartoon posters. Each year, I made up completely new jokes.(That's the year "1983" below my signature.) The second year, the patrons honored me by fighting over who had "dibs" on the half-dozen works. After that launch, I then sold the 20x28 posters for, I believe, about 50 bucks a piece.

This may strike a reader as a shrewd bit of salesmanship, but the downside is that "Your Dinner" is the only cartoon that I still own. It's a little beat up and for some reason my cat bit into a corner of the damn thing, but I wanted to share it with you.

A holiday sentiment from mi casa to su casa. May a happy Thanksgiving be yours!

Nice One, Writer's Assistants

2007-11-20T22:20:00.001-08:00

Image copyright defamer.com

Whistle While You Work

2007-11-18T10:14:00.000-08:00

Desceptively pretty. But it's likely these people don't know they're visible: a new program tracks the IP addresses of people editing Wikipedia pages, showing the title of the page being edited and the geographic location of the editor. Like a Ouija pointer, the Google map quickly moves its focus to any point in the world, showing the posting topic at each location.

-Update- This imagery generated by this program in action looks exactly like electrical activity in the brain. I realized that's exactly what it is; a fractal image, synapse on a global scale.

The loss of privacy is omnious, but to see the world thinking as a collective is a religious experience. We truly are all One.
Love to see your comments on this, especially if you've viewed the program in action.

I See You Around Me

2007-11-18T10:11:00.000-08:00

Blogger has a widget that shows just the pictures from bloggers as they are uploaded. It plays like a slideshow. Life, illustrated. It's very beautiful and moving at times.

The Future is Unwritten

2007-11-15T06:03:00.000-08:00

I missed the whole Clash startup, somehow. All I knew about them was from MTV and I thought then that they were too commercial and slick. Seems that Joe thought so, too.
Saw this movie at Cinema 21 last night and it's a grand one.
The footage and the sound are everything you could hope for. The interviews are wonderfully done, although there were some snickers in the audience at the sight of some of the subjects. And we can gather from the hair and makeup that Johnny Depp came while filming his pirate movies.

WGAw Strikers get Marshalled Up

2007-11-10T20:23:00.000-08:00

This strike affects friends of mine as well as at least one of my deals I still have going down there, so it's near and dear to me. Streaming media is definitely the new broadcast model, but I'm boycotting my beloved "30 Rock" webcast as well as the others until the pay issue is resolved. See no advertising, hear no advertising... ya dig?

Damn. Alec Baldwin is absolutely enchanting this year, too.

Ode to Downtown PDX (with apologies to Joyce Kilmer)

2007-11-10T19:33:00.000-08:00

I think that I shall never see,
My destination in front of me.

Oh one way street to dead end lead
From this hell ne'er to be freed
Last week's route is this week's trap
Surprised brakes squeal a thunderclap.

Yon web of orange mesh tells no tale
Of travelers snared and held for bail
To rescue friends does one dare creep
Or beg to signal with two beeps?

Someday on its new-paved breast,
Traffic of all breeds will flow and rest
To each type a careful lane
A snarl unknotted, the crazed made sane.

(just not today)

(c) 2007 ~Su. All rights reserved

The Power of One: Dr. Kevin Carpenter

2007-11-10T11:25:00.000-08:00

Just read this on Salon.com and then the original New York Times article: this doctor's investigation in Sydney, Australia has saved the lives of children the world over.
Kinda makes me think: What can I get done today?
And: Thank you, Dr. Carpenter
-
The photo's copyright is held by the New York Times, and is the artistic work of Tony Sernack.

My teaching Trinity: Mr Todd Rundgren

2007-11-07T00:33:00.000-08:00

I love this artist. He's got that great Spirit of Play. I've been watching the old NewTek video Todd himself made for his song,"Change Myself" also on YouTube. Nothing leads him astray from his work, not even the appearance of this world not listening to him. "Change Myself" is beautiful. Let him sing it to you. It's perfect and good, of course ...

Back when it seemed everyone loved Bush except for the Dixie Chicks, Todd was screaming "Liar!" on his album of the same name. Along with "Mammon" "...Your God is Mammon! Your God is Dead!" -it's some of his most passionate work, an anguished cry at the state of the world- yet the album's cover is a snapshot of a pajama-clad Todd at a home Easter Egg hunt.

Whomever produced and assembled this TV clip, above, mockingly took some of the lighter moments from "Something to Fall Back On" yet Todd still shines out from its crown of thorns.Typical of the bodhisattva.

The other two corners of my personal holy Trinity- Mr Rogers and Sam Kinison- don't walk the earth as mortals any longer. It's tempting to think by not living in this grayed present day of lies and treason, they had it easier. But both were disparaged in their time- Mr Rogers was ridiculed as being effeminate if not gay, and his very teachings were mocked. Sam played so far past the field it takes a lot of looking to see that he was reflecting our unawakened state back to us- and further, not as a punishment, but as an invitation to change.

The Bodhisattva- at home in their enlightenment, stretching their hand backwards to us.

My teaching Trinity: Mr Fred Rogers

2007-11-07T00:17:00.000-08:00

What a path this bodhisattva walked. I feel humbled just thinking of him.

My teaching Trinity: Mr Sam Kinison

2007-11-07T00:03:00.000-08:00

Sam's network debut on Late Night with David Letterman

It took me years to understand Sam's message. I used to think he was simply profane. I didn't get his greatness in ministering to the sinners and he certainly took a unique approach to walking with his parishioners- but they got it, and him.

Here's a clip that's a good mini-bio on Sam:

Howard Stern is one who knew Sam personally, and I keep wishing he'll publish some of what Sam left with him. I'm afraid people will forget Sam.

Mysteriously Seductive

2007-11-04T22:10:00.001-08:00

I do not know why I love this abstract image of the Sellwood Bridge- but I do.

Sellwood Bridge Harmonic Convergence

2007-11-04T11:56:00.000-08:00

That's a lovely spot. I'm watching the colors change and slant across the water as the sun recedes and I'm totally happy, walking off and just as I'm almost back on the bike path I look back and see this sign for a Suicide Hotline.
Now there were many, many beige on beige on beige stucco overpasses in Los Angeles I could have dispaired and thrown myself over, but this gentle, perfect spot? Was not one of them.
So that gave me some things to think about; different than what I'd planned when I set out.

Permanently Coveted

2007-11-04T11:22:00.000-08:00

Oh, how I wanted to *take* this gorgeous art when I saw it on the post in the Nob Hill District. It's so beautiful! I thought to myself that it was just going to get stapled over or torn off versus me taking it home and cherishing it.
It was a closely-fought battle, but ethics won out. I left it there for all to enjoy and so it could do its job of elegantly advertising the estate sale.

How about you? Did you resist the temptation?

The Saddest Thing about Hello is Goodbye

2007-11-04T09:05:00.001-08:00

I love you, my personal Mr. Bodhisattva. Be well.

(PS I got the post title from a song)

What a Gorgeous Day for a Walk

2007-11-04T08:33:00.000-08:00

Look outside.

Fog, you say? Didn't you ever dream of walking in the clouds?
Look out again.

You can do that today.

Doublespeak

2007-11-04T07:18:00.002-08:00

It Ain't Local But - Scared o' This!

2007-11-03T17:47:00.000-07:00

Taxicabs in Kansas City, loaded with karoake and cameras. Tip from Esquire online magazine. I can't look. You look and tell me how it is...

Redd Foxx Family Values, By Alec Baldwin

2007-11-02T18:23:00.000-07:00

Hey Dummy!
Who knew Alec had this in his pocket? Speaking of which, I'd love me a slice of that Howard Cosell he says he's packing as well.

Jesus Appeared Through the Clouds

2007-11-01T19:12:00.000-07:00

This sooty old diesel is ripe for a bio-conversion to a higher calling.

Candy Overload

2007-11-01T18:23:00.000-07:00

Bringing the Halloween candy to work may take the temptation out of your house but the rest of us feel it.
Ulgh. Maybe I should eat more candy. Hair of the dog?

I see I need to be 503

2007-10-31T20:50:00.000-07:00

Funny how things are so clear once written out.

I see your 818 and I call it

2007-10-31T20:20:00.000-07:00

Weird vapor trail of an old connection from LA followed the triangulated beacon of my cell phone to the Caller ID, but the important conversation was the one I had with myself- on what Home truly means to me. A sacred space. Inviolate.

Representing

2007-10-31T20:05:00.000-07:00

Wordstock is Coming!

2007-10-27T16:56:00.000-07:00

Picture yourself in a shiny red chair- the Wordstock Literary Festival

The Plazm Page-Turner

2007-10-27T16:49:00.001-07:00

2007-08-25T19:23:00.000-07:00