An early bit of Halloween

We took a break (if you could call it that) tonight to help out with our church's Trunk or Treat event. It's similar to taking the kids trick-or-treating, except that the people with the goodies park their cars in the church lot, sugary goodness in the car trunks, and the urchins go from car-to-car. A bit safer than going door-to-door, especially in the 'hood my church is in.

I saved a few things for you all. Take two...and only two!

Except the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. I call dibs on those.

Some of the costumes the people had on were amazing! The few times I had a bought costume, it was the cheap nylon coverall style with the vac-formed plastic mask that had the rubber band to hold it on your head, which promptly snapped after the second wearing. It was easier for most of us to go as soldiers-we all had hunting camo and old surplus Army field jackets.

But the costumes the kids had on tonight were awesome. Lots of demons, princesses, Transformers (big this year, obviously), and Zombies enough to satisfy even our Barnesy. One guy even had a pretty cool Pinhead Cenobite mask. A shame he was too old be collecting candy, but a lot of people take pride in their Halloween fancy dress. Neat stuff.

It would have been a perfect evening had the wind not been blowing a gale. A bit chilly-someone had the good idea to brew up some coffee-but hot apple cider would have gone better. Hot cider with cinnamon schnapps would I suppose have been too much to ask.

Back to it tomorrow-The Better Half takes voice lessons and she has a short recital on Saturday. She'll be doing The Seekers' The Carnival Is Over (tho' I prefer the original Russian-Из-за острова на стрежень,

/На простор речной волны/Выплывают расписные/Стеньки Разина челны.) and Georgy Girl. And from the "Well, duh!" file-I thought The Seekers were from England. Didn't know they wuz Australian. Oops! One of you from there might have told me. I like a lot of the folk-rock that came out of the mid 1960s, and they did it about as good as any group around at the time.

After that, up to do some stuff for my mom, then probably help my brother with some project or another at his place. And I suspect Sunday morning will be spent at work-I've got a couple of projects that desperately need finishing. TBH will be dealing with the aunt on Saturday after the recital.

Monday looks good after this-very relaxing to simply get back to work!

Happy Halloween, everyone!

yankeedog out.

Ahh. Life strikes again!

This morning The Better Half got a call at work. Her elderly (94) aunt was admitted into the hospital. She insisted that someone stole her pension check and she was hearing the upstairs neighbor playing music too loudly. Problem was no one was in her place and the fellow upstairs listens through earphones. On top of that, she suffered a mild heart attack, and scans have revealed masses in her chest and in her brain.

Tripleplusungood. Any one of the above are bad, but all three together...

She won't be going back to her apartment, at least not for a while.

Currently we're debating what to do about the masses. They could do biopsies, but personally I don't know what good it would do at this point. We'll see what the docs think. I do know that her aunt has a 'No Heroic Measures' clause in her will. That does make any end-of-life decisions easier-I guess.

What do you do with someone that age? I DON'T think a person's last few months or years should be spent being cut on and shunted back and forth to hospitals. The best surgeons on this mudball aren't going to do much more to extend her life, let alone improve the quality of it. It's a bit hard to say 'Do nothing', though.

Another log on the fire.

On my relatives' front-my mom is going to have surgery on her eye in a few weeks. The diabetes has done some damage to the nerves in the retina. One eye is pretty much shot. The other eye has a cataract. The eye doctor thinks there is a 90-95% chance of 50% better vision in the 'good' eye if the cataract is removed. Even if it improved her sight enough to read large-print books or see better to get around, I reckon it's worth a go. Obviously if the doc screws up or there's a complication, we're sunk. That's the problem with having one bad eye and one deteriorating-you don't have a whole hell of a lot of room for error. Hobson's choice.

Perhaps some day a shot of stem cells in that area will help people with retinal damage. Not yet, though, unfortunately.

Her heart and physical endurance seems to have improved a bit with having to do more tasks around the house. Typical enough for older people. Some good news there.

My brother is very close to finishing his addition (after three years). Good to see, but I'm a bit bummed that I couldn't help him a bit more, what with being the point person in dealing with Mom's affairs. I told him he gets to deal with Dad when the time comes. That'll fix him.

I did something I rarely do and issued an order to The Better Half-No more church activities that involve a lot of time or effort for either of us. We'll both have plenty to do for a while, thank you very much. The place will get by without us.

Finally-and one I'm loathe to talk about-there was one I knew 'round these parts that kind of said 'Ciao'. Too much stuff happening and all that. I understand it, but I can't help feeling a) such a waste-not of time or effort or the knowing, but of a kind soul being miserable-that's crushing, and b) there was something more I could have done to help, or c) I was part of the reason for the leaving. I feel like I'm writing someone off, and I hate it.

Bloody fucking hell.

Along with some of you fine folks looking at no jobs, it's enough to drive one to despair.

And the Bears lost to the Bengals 45-10 on Sunday. Perhaps the Bear defense got stuck in the hellhole that is the Greater Cincinnati Airport. C'mon, man!

Ah, well. Shit fire and save matches, as my stepfather used to say. Whatcha gonna do? The passage says "The Lord won't give you more than you can handle". I wish He didn't trust me so much.

yankeedog out.

If-

Kipling. 1910.

Do y'all like Kipling?

OK. All together now.

"I don't know, Yankee. We've never kippled!"

-------

If you can keep your head when all about you



Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;


If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;




If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";


If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

It's been a bit of an exhausting stretch of late on a lot of fronts. This verse seems to fit.

yankeedog out.

C'mon, man!

Before the ESPN coverage of Monday Night Football, the pregame show has a segment called 'C'mon, Man!' where some absurdity or other in the league is highlighted and the fellow presenting that bit finishes with 'C'mon, man!' in a chiding way. For example:

'During the Oakland-Denver game, linebacker Knuckledragger Johnson celebrates sacking Denver QB Kyle Orton. Problem is Oakland's down 35-0 in the 4th quarter. What the hell you celebratin' for? You're being embarrassed out there! C'mon, maan!'

Recently here, we had a woman killed by a drunk driver, which is an all-too-frequent occurrence these days. The accident happened about 4:45 in the afternoon and the drunk driver (who was only slightly injured) was already out on bail for a DUI the month before!

C'mon, man!

If you're in a drunk driving accident at quarter to five in the afternoon, you're starting drinking pretty freaking early! And if you're caught for DUI twice in a month, than there's at least one fucking problem. One with you and one with the system that allows you to be out there on the road.

Mind that this doesn't take into account all the other times in the month that this woman didn't get caught, because I'd bet my Soviet three-ruble note that her behavior's a nearly everyday occurrence.

I've seen a few other stories of people with, oh, 9 or 10 DUI's, or getting caught two or three times in a one-or-two month span. I'd bet most of us (yours truly included) have gotten behind the wheel when we weren't really capable of walking, let alone controlling a ton of plastic and steel. And most of us got lucky. But if someone makes a habit of driving drunk, then I'm not too sure they wouldn't be in the same league as a person in a park waving a gun or knife around. They're certainly not concerned that their actions potentially threaten others, and, of course, 'they have their rights' and to hell with everyone around them.

Certainly someone should be looking at a person's record when they come to trial! It doesn't seem like suspension/revocation of licenses works. Got a breathalyzer hooked up to your ignition? These people probably find someone to blow into it for them.

I'm seriously thinking about, should someone get caught either 'x' number of times or, say, three times in a year, cutting off a hand. That might get more attention from all involved better than some judge lecturing a habitual offender. And it won't happen more than twice, there, Stump. We call the Islamic system of justice 'barbaric' but one wonders if some of the deterrent measures they use might not be more effective on certain of the hardcore criminal set.

I swear, the older I get, the more I lean toward 'dry'. If you want an insidious drug that efficiently wrecks lives, families, and relationships, you don't have to go much farther than the liquor cabinet. Good old alcohol. At least most of the pot smokers I've run across are stoned, stupid, and have the reflex action of a lobotomized dinosaur, but they have no inclination to go operating a vehicle in that state.

Don't get me wrong-I like a beer when at the baseball game, and I could tell you about a couple of hayrides back in my younger days that ended with random vomiting and a hangover in the megaton range, but I think I outgrew some of that. Plus I had a place to flop and I didn't have to drive home.

Or maybe I've just gotten old and cranky.

I dunno. I just get tired of seeing people racking up a pile of DUIs and acting like it's no big deal. Or getting nailed twice in a month and caulking some schmuck who just happened to be driving in the wrong place at the wrong time-unfortunately not themselves.

C'mon, man!

yankeedog out.

I.G.Y.

The other day, I was in the Brazen Chariot rumbling across the rolling amber hills of the Mississippi Valley when I actually heard a song I'd not heard in a long, long while-not in any quantity since about 1982. That song was I.G.Y., from Donald Fagen's album The Nightfly (Fagen is, of course, one-half of pop/rock/jazz duo and classic-rock staple Steely Dan).
You can hear the song here (and check out the old cabinet stereo system! My folks have one exactly like this-turntable, AM/FM, cassette, 8-Track, speakers, and wood cabinet-all in one convenient 800-pound package! You remember those.)

I.G.Y. stood for International Geophysical Year:

-and was an event that all the nations of the world were to participate in to advance the understanding of our planet and its systems. The song itself was written, probably from the optimistic viewpoint of a child or young teenager growing up in late 1950s America, about all the wonderful gadgets we'd have in the World of Tomorrow-jetpacks, personal helicopters, and condoes overlooking Mare Imbrium or Mons Olympus or the Marianas Trench.

Didn't quite make it-I suppose we should be pleased enough with the Internet and microwave ovens, though I'd've liked to own a GM-Lockheed Super Ventura Family Rocket with lotsa chrome, big fins, and nose-mounted ray gun!

Anyway, I thought I'd post my vision of the song. Because I like that tune-it has some pleasant memories attached. And it is, after all, my blog. So there.

-----------

Standing tough under stars and stripes,we can tell

This dream's in sight
You've got to admit it

At this point in time that it's clear
The future looks bright

On that train all graphite and glitter,

Undersea by rail

Ninety minutes from New York to Paris

Well, by seventy-six we'll be A.O.K.

What a beautiful world this will be
What a glorious time to be free

Get your ticket to that wheel in space
While there's time
The fix is in
You'll be a witness to that game of chance in the sky
You know we've got to win

Here at home we'll play in the city
Powered by the sun

Perfect weather for a streamlined world

There'll be spandex jackets one for everyone

What a beautiful world this will be
What a glorious time to be free

On that train all graphite and glitter
Undersea by rail
Ninety minutes from New York to Paris
(More leisure for artists everywhere)

A just machine to make big decisions

Programmed by fellows with compassion and vision
We'll be clean when their work is done

We'll be eternally free yes and eternally young

What a beautiful world this will be
What a glorious time to be free

yankeedog out.

I got nothing this week...

It's one of those times where I've got a lot of things going on that aren't all that interesting to anybody, including me.

I know, I know-so why should this stretch be any different than any other time you write anything? Six+ billion people in the world and I find comedians and comediennes.

Anyhow, you ANZers that visit regularly might be interested in knowing that the Major League Baseball Playoffs have been sponsored in part by Foster's-Australian for 'beer'. The Foster's we get here is brewed in Milwaukee-American for 'Chicago's Hat'.

Of course, having been set right by some of you, I know that no self-respecting Australian will touch a Foster's with a three-meter pole. It'd be like advertising 'Old Milwaukee-American for 'beer'' and trying to sell the stuff down there.

Still, I thought you might like to see the commercials running up here. Hold on to your national stereotypes, kids! You're about to get them tossed in your face.

How To Speak Australian:

Social Networking-Actually these guys look like people I know.

Metrosexual- I think his house needs some renovations.

GPS-I give directions pretty much the same way.

Bailout-Since you got no money, you get the tourist beer.

Man Purse-You could beat anything to death with that giant spanner.

Long Distance Relationship-Maybe he'd be getting to first base if he were drinking Veeb or 4X or even Drano...


There you are. Nice, huh? Fortunately, it could be worse. Could've been Jacko in these commercials! Whatever happened to him? Hopefully he made enough money in football and adverts and is an annoying network commentator or some such.

yankeedog out.

A face in the crowd...

Recently I got a couple of emails, one from my coworker and one from McKinney of 'Burger fame. The email from my coworker had some photos of some people who, shall we say, weren't real photogenic.

It's hard to laugh at that-people can't help how they look with what they're given from nature.

McKinney's email, though-that was chock full of 40 mph curveballs ready to be knocked out of the park. Let's take a look, shall we?

Now, back in the day, when I first saw 'The Young Ones' on MTV, I thought Adrian Edmondson's character, Vyvyan, was outlandish-

with those general's stars on his forehead. I see now that's minor league sissy stuff.

Shall we? Once more unto the breach, dear friends...

This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the starship Enterprise. To whom am I speaking?

I suspect there may be some out there who might think this isn't a bad idea...

And if you order the complete set of Eternasharp Knives, we'll send Trent here along as a decorative knife storage block!

In other news, the Sith apprentice Darth Bobo was captured today. He is suspect in a plot to overthrow the Galactic Republic, and for the theft of a three credit bottle of jet juice from Freeble's Coruscant Liquor Store...

I waas crowned/With some spikes right through my hee-ead..!!

On a clear day he can get Radio Moscow.

A zombie for Barnesy! Double tap. Nut up or shut up.

I think I saw this guy beating up fans at a Liverpool match.

This guy's got it right. He needs a tonsillectomy or tracheotomy, all you have to do is untie him!

I got-nine lives/Cat's eyes/Usin' every one of them and running wild!/'Cause I'm back/Yes, I'm back...

The bad guy for Mad Max 4?

Quetzalcoatl. Aztec feathered serpent deity. High school picture. Class of 1985.

And to think that sci-fi movie makers actually use actors in makeup and costume to create aliens! Wouldn't it be easier just to hunt up some of these people?

yankeedog out.