My Christmas Gift From Turkmenistan!

WOW!

My PalInTurkmenistan pulled off a major coup for me - it seems that all of that sequestering in the hotel gave her time to catch up on my blogging, which enticed her to sneak outside and put herself at risk to satisfy my desires....

Again...WOW!

So, here it is, FaithfulReaders, the rotating statue of the departed Turkmenbashi!

You have no idea what I had to go through to get this. It is illegal to take pictures of it. It involved a lot of look-outs, hiding in trees, then running from a guard when he came towards us!

Things here are still pretty calm, but today is when they announce when the "elections" will happen.

It will be interesting to see what really goes down.

Merry Christmas, FaithfulReaders!

Perspective

From the NYT's -

In Vietnam in the mid-1960s, some 200 civilians were at one point trapped between battling South Vietnamese and Vietcong forces and seemed to be doomed to die in the crossfire.

Suddenly a band of 18 monks and nuns appeared — unarmed and politically unaligned — and walked into the combat zone.

The shooting stopped.

They escorted the civilians to safety.

The Buddhists had given the right gift to the right people at the right time and asked nothing in return.

If there is such a thing as a perfect gift, that is it.

That'll Make Me Scream

According to a 200-page assessment given to Oslo police, damage resulting from the theft of Edvard Munch’s Scream may be too severe to be repaired.

Ingebjorg Ydstie, a museum curator, reported:

Water has been absorbed by one corner of the paperboard, and there is abrasion damage on the lower part of the painting. We have a large swath that is very visible.

But wait, FaithfulReaders -what to make of this:

On September 1, 2006, Munch Museum director Ingebjørg Ydstie said that the condition of the paintings was much better than expected and that the damage could be repaired. Our skilled conservators will be able to repair the damage.

Or not, apparently.

Which is it, Ingebjørg? And why the change in title from the earlier museum director to the lowly curator? Hmmmm...

More Holiday Gifts Have Arrived!

Look what the fine folks at the wire service sent me for Christmas! -Live from the Everglades!

Yep - an alligator AND a Burmese Python. This time, I don't think the python is going to win...

So Here's What's Happening

Turkmenistan's President-for-life Saparmurat Niyazov died suddenly of cardiac arrest at age 66 on Thursday after 21 years of tirelessly crushing all dissent with his iron rule over his country whose major assest is its huge natural gas reserves.


His death raises a risk of political instability in the energy-rich country that some fear could have an impact on Europe's gas supplies.

So this is not a good sign, given what some administrations will do to control energy resources (not naming names here):

I expect there will be a massive fight for power now in Turkmenistan and it's likely to take place between pro-U.S. and pro-Russian forces, said a Russian gas industry source, who declined to be named (can you say: polonium?). Gas will become the main coin of exchange and the key asset to get hold of.

That's great.

Under the Constitution, Parliament Speaker Overzgeldy Atayev is to take over as acting president until elections that must be called within two months. The Constitution, however, bans Atayev from running for president in that vote.

Originally a Soviet apparatchik, Niyazov took the title of Turkmenbashi (Head of the Turkmen) the Great and had thousands of portraits and statues, including one in gold leaf that rotates to face the sun in Aşgabat. I hope MsLee gets a photo of that if she is ever able to leave the hotel.

His death means a terrible shock for the republic, its residents and the political class. It's comparable to a shock the Soviet Union felt after Stalin's death said Vyacheslav Nikonov, head of the Moscow-based Politika think tank.

Ooooh - do you think they will embalm and put him on display like Stalin and Lenin...or better yet, wheel out his preserved corpse to oversee all of the big meetings in the country like the great Jeremy Bentham? That would be in keeping with his ego, and it would be cool!

Amongst his accomplishments, Niyazov renamed the month of January after himself as well as a sea port and even a meteorite.

How much do I love that?

His funeral in set for December 24th.

Word From My Friend In Turkmenistan

You know, only my friend, MsLee, would be sent to a place that no one has ever heard of, where nothing ever happened, and find herself in the vortex of world changing events...

Here is her email I received at 9:10 am this morning:

Check out CNN.com for the news story on what is going on here. Everything is pretty calm, but there is A LOT of uncertainty about what is going to happen. There have been strict curfews put in place here. At least we will officially become volunteers tomorrow, that way if for some reason we get sent home (I don't think we will) we get all the benefits of being volunteers. As trainees we would get no benefits.

For right now we are all being kept at a hotel in Ashgabat. We are not allowed to leave, and are on a "wait and see" plan. We will definitely be here through the 28th, but some are suspecting until the first of the year.We are safe, and things don't feel scary. There's just a lot of uncertainty and questions about what will happen here. It's an interesting time to be here- BIG history in the making for this part of the world. It will be interesting to watch how things progress and change.

Being kept in a hotel...I suppose there are worse things to do in Ashgabat.

Like spending the day at the Ak Bugday (White Wheat) Museum.

From My Inbox

Got home from work early this morning, and received this brief and cryptic note:

please check any world news.

big situation just happened in turkmenistan.

we are at the hotel, we are safe.

Of course, after reading that, I just went to bed.

It can wait til morning, I'm sure. I mean, what could be possibly be news in a made-up country?

Today's Task - A Daunting One

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue.

Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them.

And the point is, to live everything.

Live the questions now.

Perhaps you will find them gradually, without noticing it, and live along some distant day into the answer.

-Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

My Christmas Wish List Item

Well, last year, FaithfulReaders, I asked for the lovely Olive Symphony - as I believe in the quality, and not quantity of gifts.

That did not pan out. NO Olive Symphony anywhere to be seen.

But I will try again, with this : As I am a marketer's dream consumer, being swayed unreasonably by stylish design and classic good taste - I became overcome with avarice when I layed eyes on this beauty : The Fujifilm FinePix Z5fd. The latest in the FinePix Z-series of slim (19.4-mm) digital cameras sports a 6.3 megapixel CCD sensor, 3x optical zoom, 2.5-inch LCD, a likely worthless ISO 1600 sensitivity, 26MB of internal memory, a new blog mode (don't care what it is, love the sound of it) and the hardware-based Face Detection technology seen in their higher-end cameras.

And the color choice? Mocha Brown, of course. Yum.

Yes, I know I have the hallowed, gorgeous and magnificent (not to mention 4x as costly) NIKON D70, but sometimes you want just a little, wee camera to take with you. And what a beauty. After reading the reviews, I got online to see who was carrying them so I could run out and buy me one, then I noticed the fine print - available in MARCH 2007.

Santa, you are on notice.

A One-Legged Woman, A Monkey & A Lumberjack

The Penpal gave me the 'heads up' that NPR was featuring a segment about David Lynch and his new project - Inland Empire. (The funniest part about the Wikipedia link to the Inland Empire site, is this: Spoiler warning: Plot and/or ending details follow. Yeah. Right! Good try, folks!)

I can't call it a film, because Mr. Lynch has become enamoured of consumer grade digital video, and has forsaken film at this time.


As for Inland Empire, the buzz is that it is LESS narrative than (the brilliant and taxing)Mulholland Drive, and even more like being inside of Mr. Lynch's brain.

Dave says that he has tried to capture a dream. He says that no matter how good your words are, when you tell someone your dream, they just don't experience it in the same way. So his work is to try and capture the vividness, the realness of a dream and to deny any outside forces of structure or narration.

(note to Penpal - how's that for your Unity Statement? -also notice the copy - worlds within worlds -wheels within wheels -tiny alice- ohgoodgod dr mccoy)

And this, from the report, sums up why we both adore David Lynch:

Laura Dern received a call from a new producer on the project -

Producer: David called me this morning - I can't figure out if it's a joke. He said, 'Bring me a one-legged woman, a monkey and a lumberjack by 3:15.'

Laura: I said, Yeah, you're on a David Lynch movie, dude. Sit back and enjoy the ride.

Producer: But what does it MEAN?

Laura: It means that you need to bring him a monkey, a one-legged woman and a lumberjack by 3:15.

In The Dark

I'm in the dark, no hot water & no repairs in sight for about a week!
WHAT A STORM!
And we are predicted to have snow tonight!

The weather is very nasty back home - they are recovering from the worst windstorm in more than a decade, a storm which left more than 1.5 million homes (including my friend, K8, whose note starts this post!) and businesses without power and killing at least six people.

Winds up to 90 mph were reported in parts of Washington during the storm that began Thursday night. Winds in Seattle hit 69 mph.

Power was knocked out at one of the airport's concourses, canceling dozens of flights.

Flights were also canceled at Portland International Airport in Oregon, and Amtrak canceled service between Seattle and Portland because downed trees and mudslides blocked the tracks.

Gas shortages all over the Seattle area forced some people to wait in lines that took as long as two hours to get to the pump.

Holiday Photography Tips - A Public Service

There are lots of rules to follow to create memorable photographs.

Stuff with mystical names like the Rule of Thirds and the Golden Mean.

So, I found this photo on the net, and thought it was a great example in really bad compositional thinking. Don't let this happen to YOUR holiday memories, folks:

As our fine friends at Kodak, point out:

So it's easier than you might guess to focus our eyes on the principal subject only and not see that background at all.

Avoiding mergers is our sixth guideline for better composition.

The Secret Lives of Gingerbread Men

What to do to celebrate the season?

Shop for Christmas trees, drink some hot cider, drive around and look at holiday lights...If you are lucky enough to be in Ohio, you can go to the aforeblogged Christmas Story House...or drive through Wellington to take in the festive display of Nazi gingerbread men...so many choices.

Keith McGuckin was forced to remove his Nazi gingerbread men from the window of a hardware store in Oberlin, but he has found space for them in an empty storefront in nearby Wellington.

The Secret Lives of Gingerbread Men depicts a small gathering at a Nazi rally.

McGuckin said the subject is meant to provoke thought, not offend.

I remember thinking to myself, 'What's the worst thing a gingerbread man can do?' They're just copying things that people have done. There are no hidden messages here.

Last winter, McGuckin used the hardware store window to display a caroler-bashing snowman, a depiction of a suicidal snowman sitting under a hairdryer and a little boy excited about using his chemistry set to create crystal meth .

When It Absolutely, Positiviely Has To Be There...

... seven years later.

Russian Post has started delivering 4.5 tonnes of letters and parcels that were sent from the United States in 1999.

The state-owned postal service said the delay was not its fault - a shipping container with the mail inside has been at a port in Finland for years.

Calling Doktor Schnabel von Rom!

You're Wanted In Wyoming!

I've always harbored the idea that the best Halloween costume of all time would be to go as Doktor Schnabel von Rom, the Plague Doctor.

Now, it looks like I could do just that, as two mountain lions have died in Wyoming - victims of the Bubonic Plague!

In a little more than a year, four area mountain lions have died from the disease and several domestic cats have tested positive, said Ken Mills, a professor of veterinary sciences who diagnosed the cats' disease in his University of Wyoming laboratory.

The mountain lions died at the end of October, but the university just issued a warning to hunters and cat owners on Thursday.

The area affected is a sparsely populated portion of northwest Wyoming that includes little known and infrequwntly visited places like Yellowstone National Park and Jackson.

"It's A Real Rarity" - So I Ate It

Y'know, those Burmese Pythons have been doing me right this year.

In fact, I got so caught up in THAT, that I practically forgot another of my favorite topics from last year...when this little story just drops into my lap...

Rick Lisko hit a deer while driving down his mile-long driveway.

The young buck had nub antlers — and seven legs.

Lisko said it also had both male and female reproductive organs.

It was definitely a freak of nature, Lisko said. I guess it's a real rarity. It kind of gives you the creeps when you look at it.

John Hoffman of Eden Meat Market skinned the deer for Lisko.

And by the way, I did eat it, Lisko said.

It was tasty.

Attaboy.

There Is A Job For Everyone

More dolphin news - this time it is happier, though!

Dolphins at Royal Jidi Ocean World aquarium in Liaoning province, China, got sick after nibbling on plastic from the edge of their pool.

Attempts to use surgical instruments to remove the plastic failed because the dolphins' stomachs contracted in response to the instruments.

So what to do?

Veterinarians decided to ask for help from Bao Xishun, a 7'9" tall herdsman from Inner Mongolia with 41.7-inch arms - the world's tallest living man confirmed last year by the Guinness Book of World Records.

He was brought in and trained to reach into the dolphins' stomachs and remove the offending material.

This is not the first time an ultra-tall man has come to the rescue of dolphins. In 1978, Clifford Ray, a 6'9" basketball star, was asked to do the very same thing.

It's in your job description, man.

Going, Going - Sadly, Gone

An expedition searching for a rare Yangtze River dolphin ended Wednesday without a single sighting and with the team's leader saying one of the world's oldest species was effectively extinct.

The white dolphin known as baiji, shy and nearly blind, dates back some 20 million years.Its disappearance is believed to be the first time in a half-century, since hunting killed off the Caribbean monk seal, that a large aquatic mammal has been driven to extinction.

We have to accept the fact, that the Baiji is functionally extinct. It is a tragedy, a loss not only for China, but for the entire world. We are all incredibly sad. We lost the race, August Pfluger, the Swiss co-leader of the joint Chinese-foreign expedition, said.

Around 400 baiji were believed to be living in the Yangtze in the 1980s. The last full-fledged search, in 1997, yielded 13 confirmed sightings, and a fisherman claimed to have seen a baiji in 2004.
It was an odd sighting, as the baiji had an ivory-billed woodpecker on its back at the time...

Note To Self

Get a clue.

Make Your Own Kind Of Music

Noah Vawter, a graduate student at the M.I.T. Media Lab, has created a device he calls Ambient Addition.

The device consists of two headphones with transparent earpieces, each equipped with a microphone and a speaker. The microphones sample the background noise in the immediate vicinity — wind blowing through the trees, traffic, a cellphone conversation.

Then, through the magic of computer chips, the sounds are processed into music. Percussive sounds like footsteps and coughs are sequenced into a stuttering pattern, and all the noises are tuned so that they fuse into a coherent, slowly changing set of harmonies.

Santa, are you listening?

Snails

So, I've been sitting here thinking about my mom... thinking about holidays and traditions.

It is one of those back in time moments, when I wish that as I am sitting here, writing (similiar to doing homework), my mom would knock on my office (bedroom then) door, and there she would be - holding a plate a freshly baked snails and a steaming cup of coffee.

I'd kill for a plate of snails right now. I truly can't remember when last I had that little treat, but I think that the Penpal was in on them at least once, so it has to have been in the past twenty five years. Easy to say, it has been awhile.

As FaithfulReaders are familiar, my mom liked to make up names for things (a trait I apparently inherited), such as calling French Style Green Beans - spinach. So, here is what snails really are:

You start with a pie crust dough stick (do they still make those?). You roll it out. You generously spread butter over the dough. You generously sprinkle sugar and cinnamon over that. You roll it up and cut it into inch long bite-sized squares, put 'em on a cookie sheet and throw 'em in the oven for a couple of minutes. Ummmmm...warm, flaky cinnamonysugary goodness.

I just know my mom would be cracking up inside whenever she would ask if I wanted snails in front of a new guest and I would get very enthusiastic. What kid loves snails that much? The same kid that just LOVED spinach. Until she was actually served real spinach one day...

Mutual Of Omaha's Wild Kingdom Live - The Road Show

I got up this morning and went off to my Starbuck's (I say MY, because FaithfulReaders will recall I WAS the DrinkOfTheWeek) for the last time, then started cleaning my bathroom, which has to be the most dreaded task in human experience.

The team of movers arrived at 9 a.m. - I was amazed and dismayed to discover that the team consisted of TWO guys! Boy, did they have their work cut out for them. One headed immediately to the kitchen, and the other tackled the bedroom, which left the bathroom for me to play in. I kinda set up an office complete with a phone and set to canceling all of my services. I even managed to cancel my dial-up internet service, and if you have ever tried to do this, MAN, they are like pitbulls - they just WON'T let you cancel, but I won this time! I was feeling quite proud of myself!

I then realized that the fellows would be at my place a long time, and I had many errands to run, and I was wasting precious time. I asked them if I was required to be there for this process, and they said no, and also declined my offer to return bearing fast food for them. So I went to the post office and changed my address, went to the bank, took the dealership a copy of some paper they needed for my car, did a little shopping, got lunch, found time for ANOTHER Starbuck's run, and gassed up the car, where I FINALLY noticed a dip in the prices!

When I returned, the guys were sitting down outside smoking, and asked where they could go for lunch. I coulda killed them. Instead, I got BACK in the car, and went to fetch them food and drink.

After their refreshments, they started in loading the truck. I never had the experience of people coming in and completely packing everything - they had the paper, tape, boxes, and incredible back strength. As each room was emptied, I followed behind them, spackling and Swiffering, and then I closed the door for the final time, and headed down to Columbus to spend the night with DJ V.

It was quite dark and rainy in Akron as I was leaving, but soon the skies cleared, and the world was bathed in a hyper-brilliant orange-y sunset glow.

And that is when Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom Live - The Road Show began.

There I was, driving down the highway when a large peregrine falcon/hawk swoops down directly in front of my car and into the median strip, and impales a medium-sized furry mammal! (groundhog? rabbit? capybara?) It was completely amazing. The Savage Beauty Of Nature, as seen on Ohio's interstates.

I arrived safely, and took at peek at DJ V's new golden car. She had been busy setting up her small apartment, and it was absolutely lovely, inviting and romantic. That girl can set a stage almost as well as the Captain can. I brought a bottle of champagne to celebrate our anniversary (90 days - seems much more likely to be like, 3 years, oddly), and Kir Royales were made as we watched an episode of Six Feet Under.

And then DJ V gave me a present, my very own Magdalene, otherwise known as a Garmin GPS! I think it would be really cool if you could get a voice module - I want Eddy from Absolutely Fabulous - "Sweetie, sweetie, sweetie, turn right Now! Oh, bollocks, you bitch troll from hell!" But, I will be very happy with Magdalene's insistent Recalculating!

It was a wonderful, thoughtful gift, as I was SURE I would never find my way around Pittsburgh - what a wacky city of weird streets that is...but the best part was the sentiment:

So you can always find your way back to where you belong - with me

At last, I got to take a shower, and DJ V loaned me her Victoria's Secret pj's.

Sleep was deep, and well-deserved.

Let The Fun Begin!

My how time flies! It was 20 years ago today that Pee Wee's Playhouse debuted! I remember those early Saturday mornings when I lived in The Land Of Chalk Drawings (the world's tiniest apartment)...freshly graduated from college, yet sitting cross-legged on the couch, eating Cap'n Crunch and watching Pee Wee before heading off to work.

Besides the brilliance of Paul Reubens, the show also starred Phil Hartman, Laurence Fishburne, S. Epatha Merkerson, Jimmy Smits, and, my favorite - The Most Beautiful Woman in Puppetland, Lynne Stewart. And the exhausting, wonderful theme song was performed by none other than Cyndi Lauper. And let's not forget the worst SecretWord EVER : Zyzzybalubah! (you had to be there, Friends!) Then there was the Dinosaur Family (who lived in a mouse hole), A Penny Cartoon...AND GIANT UNDERPANTS

(a longtime, sure-fire favorite)!

Not just a show for the tykes, in its entire run, the Playhouse took home 22 Emmy Awards.

Gentlemen, Check Your Engines

I awoke, not terribly inspired, knowing I had just this day to prepare as much as I could for the movers.

I thought it would be special to not move dirty clothes, and so I tackled the laundry first. In my haste, I neglected to check my work shirt pockets before throwing the clothes into the washer and then the dryer...and I was not amused to discover that five shirts were ruined because I stupidly washed my favorite pen, which exploded and leaked all over the things in the dryer! Man, I HATE that!

I got my storage area completely emptied - not that it was a big deal - I stored mostly luggage, my Christmas tree, and many, many empty boxes. I don't really throw boxes away when I purchase something, probably because I have learned that I will be moving somewhere soon, and it makes your life easier to have good boxes for fragile items...

Then it was time to take my car back to the dealership so they could discern why the engine light was on...It took them three hours. The reason was some kind of fume/valve thingy.

I was very happy to get behind the wheel, and not see that amber engine glaring at me!

And, the repair didn't cost me any money - just a chunk of my time, which at this point is very limited, rare and valuable. But I did get to catch up on my tabloid reading - always a bright side!

That's All Folks!

The day began on a bad note what with DJ V heading south to Columbus. It will be several days before we will get to be together, and I am not happy about that fact, but we are being mature and taking care of business.

So, off I went, to face the Mass Leave-Taking...MyAdoringPublic, J-Lo...At least the three of us got to go to lunch, and I picked Champps, because I really love their tortellini Sylvina - ricotta cheese tortellini tossed with sauteed chicken, spinach and basil in a sun-dried tomato cream sauce, served with great garlic bread. It was a lovely day, and we got to enjoy our lunch out on the patio. My generous and kind friends hooked me up with a Starbuck's giftcard and thermos, AND a bottle of Veuve Clicquot...something great must be happening soon, as I'll that chilling in the fridge!

It was very touching that a couple of employees made a special trip on their day off to come in and spend some time with me, and I quickly realized that my day would not be about working, it would be all about sitting around, talking and spending a few final moments with my co-workers. Sounds better than it was - it's really hard parting from so many great folks.

My OpticianFriend arrived in the afternoon, and brought in my new spectacles. She really wanted to take the day off (and ended up doing so) but she made the trip in, just to deliver my glasses to me. What a pal!

Then there was the ubiquitous GoingAwayCake, which benefits the staff much more than the "recipient".

And finally, I turned in my keys, and took my leave.

No more one hour, one-way commutes!

I headed home, packed up a few things, and took the mirrors off of my antique dressers.

Playing Hooky

I decided, under the good influence of Mr. Beauregard Van Horne, to call off from work today, and to enjoy a leisurely day with DJ Volvo.We stayed in bed until 1 in the afternoon, which in itself was a terrific reason for taking the day off. After showers were taken, breakfast was prepared (scrambled eggs, toast, chimichurra rice with Mediterranean cheese style yogurt).

We ran to Target to purchase a shower curtain rod for my new apartment, and went to a few video stores in hopes of picking up a used copy of Inside Man, because DJ V said that Jodi Foster's legs were amazing. Is there any other better reason to see a movie? I think not.

So, we did not find a used copy of the film for sale, and ended up going to the coffeeshop for blogging, and excessive gloating on my part that I have turned DJ V all obsessive over getting cover art for her iTunes songs....

Feel The Love (A Little)

TIME magazine asked readers to check one of the boxes on the magazine's August 28 cover to let the world know how they feel about Hillary Clinton.

4,539 covers were received. Who, these days has time to actually drop something into the mail?

Today, they finished counting up the votes, so here are the results from the Luddites casting paper ballots:

LOVE HER - 2,286
HATE HER - 2,122
NEITHER - 131

But, the TIME.com poll recorded a whopping 110,029 cyber votes!

LOVE HER - 40,821
HATE HER - 39,280
NEITHER - 29,928

Looks like we love those kooky Clintons! Just a little.

Spring Cleaning Is Not Enough Sometimes

Roxanna Jones of Ironton, Missouri was cleaning a house when what to her wondering eyes should appear - a discarded snake skin.

Clever FaithfulReaders will know immediately that this was no ordinary snake skin. This little treasure was twelve feet in length.

Roxanna took the snake skin to a sixth grade teacher, Julie Bales.

After looking at the coloration, the pattern on it and the size, I figure it belonged to a Burmese Python, Bales said (obviously a Faithful Reader herself...).

Here is my favorite quote from the report:

According to an expert at the Missouri Department of Conservation, the snake is not indigenous to the Heartland.

Whew! Thanks for that newsflash, Department of Conservation!

The Final Countdown

This afternoon was the start of the Long Goodbye.

MyFriendJason was the first to leave work today, and for some reason, that parting was to be the most difficult for me...

I got a chance to have one last hotdog from the SmokinHotHotDogGirl, and discovered that she is an accountant at her day job...

And finally, it was my last evening with ZekeNewBuffalo. I will miss our long nightly conversations about everything and nothing. Coworkers like these are few and far between, and very hard to replace...

The Better To See You With My Dear

I got to go see my OpticianPal this afternoon, and use my insurance for the year, picking out new frames. She has everything all ready for me, so all I have to do is show up and shop.

She pulled out the runner-up frames from last year, and I still liked them. She preferred them in the bronze-y color, rather than the black ones I liked. I trusted her judgment - even though I really liked a frameless pair a lot...oh well, that will be NEXT year's pair...

I am eagerly awaiting delivery on Monday!

I Tried That Phrase For Some Library Books Once...

“We are dismayed to be unable to return them, by their irretrievable loss,”
said the president of the Georges Pompidou Center, one Bruno Racine following the news that a 1971 wall sculpture by Peter Alexander was destroyed when it fell from a museum wall shortly before the show, Los Angeles: 1955-1985, opened on March 8, and a 1967 wall relief by Craig Kauffman tumbled to the floor during public visiting hours on July 15.

Since the accidents were first reported in The Los Angeles Times last month, the museum has pouted that it does take proper care of the artworks it borrows. Mr. Racine said that the Pompidou had invited the artists to remake the works at the center’s expense, but that they had not yet responded.

Hmmm..maybe I should have offered to re-type those library books...

Those Damn Hippy Granola-Eating Patchouli-Wearing Greenpeace Freaks

Man, they take EVERYTHING so SERIOUSLY!

Sure, go save the whales in your cute little Zodiacs...

But leave these to the professionals...

Then again, with a name like Bart van Opzeeland, the Greenpeace spokesman probably isn't that familiar with the topic...

The Long Weekend

The long weekend began today, with us having to get up and head off on separate road trips. DJ V hooked me up with her GPS, which was fantastic, because those Pittsburgh streets are just crazy...

Everything started out real nice, until I started the NewCar, and the damn engine light came on! DJ V calmed me down and suggested that the service department was open and that I should call them, so I did. They seem to think that the detailers, while detailing the engine got a little sloppy and something got into someplace it shouldn't have. They seemed to think it would take several starts of the engine to burn it off, and that it would be fine to drive as long as it didn't flash... wow, was that comforting...

I arrived in Pgh on time, safely in the new 'hood, and met up with my new landlord and got the MANY keys to my new home. I took photos, and was driving myself crazy envisioning how my stuff was going to fit into the space. Although the building is from the right era, the apartment itself is quite modern, and none of my stuff is going to work right. But, I have air conditioning, and that might make it all worthwhile.

I ran across the street to the coffeeshop to build my friendship with my NewBarista, where I discovered that not only are they not open on Sundays, they don't sell the New York Times, which foils several of plans for my fantasy Sunday mornings...

I then turned around and headed home, so that I could work until 2 am!

When I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror this time, I noticed I looked uncannily like Laurie Anderson, and I found that comparison much more palatable. To celebrate, I drove to work listening to her Live In New York concert CD from 2001.

Page 163

That is the page you are asked to rip out of James Frey's faux memoir, A Million Little Pieces.

You can then send it along with a receipt showing that you had purchased the book BEFORE January 26th, the day he "came out", AND a signed statement that you thought the book was a memoir.

You will receive a refund of the cover price - no matter what price your receipt shows you paid - a whopping $23.95!

I believe Mr. Frey will be shredding each refund check into a million little pieces personally, by hand, as he had stuffs each refund envelope as part of his reparation agreement...

Just For The Record

Sure, it's the name of Streisand's Boxed CD Set...

But that's not what I'm talking about here.

Let the record show, TWO of the Top 5 slots belong to me!

No further explanation will be given...

Why Did The Python Cross The Road?

To digest the pregnant ewe it swallowed for lunch!

The 6 metre long snake was discovered in the village of Kampung Jabor, near Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia.

Firefighters had no difficulty in capturing the python, as it was unable to move.

Conservationists are deciding whether to keep the 200 pound snake in a zoo or release it back into the wild.

Licensed To Be Cranky

I had to take the NewCar back to the dealership today for its detailing appointment, and DJ V was kind enough to drop me off before heading down south for the afternoon...

I took advantage of my day to be sequestered at home to throw out more crap. As I like to remind DJ V, I once moved across the country to Seattle with a suitcase, a backpack and my cat. That's it. Now, here I am after four years with a stupid amount of accumulated crap...The Penpal will agree, one of my fondest wastes of time is "going through things"...

Anyway, seven hours later, the folks from the dealership came to pick me up and I went to Swenson's for some refreshment, and to read a little of my book. I caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror, and realized that today I looked way too much like Limahl from Kajagoogoo.

What with all of the working, cleaning, waiting, looking like an 80's pop singer, I was pretty cranky. When DJ V arrived back home, she made sure I got some food (more Swenson's, but a milkshake this time), and put me to bed, and excused my crankiness because of my prior good behaviour... {substitute verbiage alert!}

Speaking Of Cars For Sale...

Had I only known, I could have held on to the SexyCorolla until the gavel falls on Cher's Hummer H2!

How cool would that have been? Seems Cher is divesting herself of about 800 items, including stage costumes by Bob Mackie, jewelry, works of art, furniture and the aforementioned big ol'SUV.

Here's the quote:

She is redecorating her home, going for a Moroccan-Tibetan look and selling the Gothic revival items, said Darren Julien of Julien's Auctions. He added that the mannequins supporting the dresses had to be especially made because of Cher's special figure.

Define "special."

New Arrivals

I spent the lion's share of the day waiting for the purchase of my new car to go through, while DJ V whiled away the hours laying on the couch at home, reading and eating bon bons and being fanned by the cabana boys...

The couch is very accomodating...

We went out for a late brunch to the Cracker Barrel, then I had a list of errands to run - I had to return a camera bag to BestBuy (too small), get a haircut (conceptualized by DJ V), look at phones ... all kinds of necessary tedium.

We then walked up to the coffeehouse, because the NewCar was safely ensconced in the garage, and sucked up the free WiFi.

While we were there, I received a call from Hollywood Stafford - his new baby arrived - safe, sound and happy! I know Hollywood will be a wonderful dad! What a great journey he is embarking on! I am very happy for him...

It was getting late, and I had a craving for shrimp, so DJ V and I returned to the "scene of the crime" for dinner. It was there that I discovered her hidden passion for Amstel Light. After all of these years - I had no idea.

After dinner, I put my PartnerInCrime to the test, and she passed with flying colors. It is not just anyone you can be on the run from the Law with, y'know?

Then, we wanted to relax and watch a movie, and apparently I was in a regressive state, and thrust one of my favorite stupidly enjoyable films upon her unsuspecting eyes - but anyone will agree, the final scene is a COMPLETE payoff. I am always impressed by experts in their field, any field, so, I can watch Cassandra twirl her tassels any day. That's some talent, folks.

Death By Python In Indiana

An autopsy found 23-year-old Patrick Von Allmen's death was caused by asphyxiation around the neck and chest. His 14-foot pet python was found uncaged nearby the unresponsive body...

New Wheels

I celebrated my Labor Day today, laboring at my job, but since it was a holiday, I left early.

My secret plan was to take advantage of any Labor Day car sales that might be going on.

We had spotted a 1995 Jaguar that was absolutely lovely near my house, but I really didn't want another high-mileage vehicle. I would be thrilled with anything that had less than 75,000 miles at this point...

So, to make my purchase I went to a very small dealership, the only Chrysler dealership owned by a woman, which pleased me very much. I parked the SexyCorolla real far away, and strolled about the lot, checking out the JEEPs, and my favorite - the Volvo black sedan with tan leather interior. A lovely vehicle to be sure, but not one to be gracing my garage for awhile.

After I had made my decision, I had to find a salesperson. This was definitely not a high-pressured sales environment. The salesman I was eventually assigned to was quite busy, as he was selling two vehicles to one person, so he told me to just pick out a car and take it for a drive for awhile...ok.

As we began to settle up the deal, it was apparent that the transaction would not be completed by closing time, and it was a holiday and all...so they sent me home in my new car, without collecting any sort of payment from me whatsoever. Just for a minute, I thought driving to Maine would be super fun. I arrived home a bit before DJ V, and hid the new acquisition in the garage as a surprise.

We went out for a late dinner at a local Italian place - one that was still open. The manicotti was quite tasty. Crappy ambiance there, but we enjoyed the theatrical presentation of our two small dinner plates, wheeled out to our table on a cart.

I guess it is just all about the mode of transportation today...

Crikey

Driving to work today, all dark and early, I heard the terrible story of Steve Irwin's untimely demise.

Irwin was filming a episode for the Discovery channel (The Ocean's Deadliest...) at Batt Reef, part of the Great Barrier Reef, and swam over a stingray, which flicked its tail into his chest, stabbing him in his heart. Mr. Irwin removed the long, poisonous barb and died within seconds.

If I'm going to die, at least I want it filmed, Irwin said in a 2002 interview.

His death was caught on videotape. Shades of Timothy Treadwell...

Mr. Irwin's death was only the third known stingray death in Australian waters, according to shark and stingray expert Victoria Brims.

Mission Accomplished

A major milestone today -

At 11:04 a.m. {EasternTime}, the SexyCorolla attained

300,000 miles

It will now be let out to pasture, after years of Faithful Service.

Thanks to the Penpal and The MightyBobster - it was a true and loyal steed.

For more info, check this out.

The Mighty Have Fallen

So there I was, sitting outside on my lunchbreak, singing along with the Muzak filtering in from the outdoor hidden speakers in the mall, when I realize...

Hey! This is Angel by Eurythmics...ON MUZAK!

So very sad...

Send In The Clowns

Read an interesting article in the NYT today.

From this article I learned a new word: coulrophobia , which is the fear of clowns. I am not sure if there is a word for fear of clown portraits painted on black velvet, but if you know what it may be, please advise...

Also, I was pleased with the high quality vocabulary of the writer, dropping in one of my favorite terms learned in my Theatre History class, schadenfreude, a word that sees far too little usage in my opinion.

The article offers several reasons why people who do not suffer from coulrophobia find clowns fascinating, or even comforting.

One is that there’s something about someone falling on their face that will always be funny. We all know what it feels like to be an idiot.

Okay. I get that. Here is another:

For the audience the appeal stems from the vulnerability of the actor. Despite the humor and goofy outfits, the actual performance is often moving, even sad. When you look at the clown, you understand. He’s like a skinless grape.

Assignment: Please explain how an actor is LIKE a skinless grape. Feel free to expand on the dangers of creating metaphors. One page essay, double-spaced. Thanks.

The Champagne Was Flowing!

Over 300 hundred people stopped by Blomqvist Fine Arts in Norway before 9 pm to toast the return of the two stolen paintings by local boy, Edvard Munch.

The paintings were taken two years and nine days ago, and are reported to be in fairly good condition, given the rumor spread by the Norwegian underworld that they had been "burned up."

We know that both pictures have been handled roughly and that Madonna has received a scratch or gouge, but I have been informed that the damages are not irreparable, said Erling Lae, the commissioner of Oslo’s city government.

I knew my refrigerator shrine would come through in the end...

Yo Ho Ho!

After work today, DJ V and I went out to the movies because I was so very excited to see Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest.

I loved the first movie a lot. Unfortunately, this movie dispenses with an age-old film convention - the ending. It is nothing but filler setting up the third installment. I found it very disappointing, all in all. Not enough Depp and too much exposition trying to be crammed into two hours. And lots of things rolling down hills. I half expected to see Kathleen Turner sliding down onto Captain Jack...

However, I will certainly be going to see the next one. And I hope it pays off.

The Morning After

I really can't explain what happened after the show. Let it be sufficient to say that I couldn't find my glasses and my clothes seemed to be strewn about the hotel room in the morning. I was very disoriented. And, I think, DJ V was oddly smug. Hmmm.

The cure, obviously, was to visit Starbuck's while DJ V showered. I scampered across the street, and lo, if it was not the very same barista from yesterday afternoon! I got hooked up, and returned bearing libations to tide us over on the way to the MEGABUS.

Again, my string of excellent luck in hailing cabs in Chicago was unbroken, and we arrived with a lot of time to spare, and saw some folks carrying McDonald's sacks, so we asked where it was located. Somewhere deep in the bowels of Union Station apparently. It took us asking about sixteen different people to find our way to the fast food emporium. It got to the point where I was only retaining directions for a duration of 5 feet. Then I would stop and ask someone else for directions. I was afraid we would be forever trapped inside, just like the kids from the From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. We finally did find the joint, after spawning upstream against the tide of commuters. Thus fortified, we were all ready for the trip back to Cleveland.

Odd thing, though. The trip back seemed to take forever - it felt like we were going from Chicago to Cleveland, via Montana. Perhaps it was the lack of Marti and Liz. Perhaps it was the driver, who was straight out of the American Gothic painting. At any rate, DJ V and I found a way to pass the time. {substitute verbiage alert!}

We arrived home and hopped on the free trolley, as we were both tired of carrying our bags by this point. DJ V had to stop by her office for awhile and get caught up on things.

Then we were really hungry and took off to Carrabba's for some pasta.

Things To Do Before I Die - One Down

The day began very early, and we were very excited. We walked through a somewhat deserted downtown to Tower City, and ran inside to get some much needed coffee. While we were inside, the sky opened up, and we were treated to an early morning deluge. Luckily, it was ferocious, but short-lived, and we were able to get to the MEGABUS stop by the appointed time of 8:15 in the morning. One other lady was waiting there, and she had been a previous MEGABUS patron. I was so looking forward to this trip - it was costing us $40 for the two of us to go to Chicago and back, which, once you figured in gas, tolls and parking was ridiculously cheap. Besides the fact that we could have five hours to read magazines, listen to music, play with our laptops, daydream, nap, and not drive.

It was a great plan until the bus did not show up. Luckily, some other folks started calling the service center, and we learned that they were unable to get the bus started and our trip would be delayed. Eventually, a van pulled up, and one Mr. Lewis, our would-be driver, emerged and informed us that we would not be leaving before 11 am, and then he had to scurry back to the bus garage. Some of the erstwhile travelers subsequently left for other means of transportation - one booked a flight, one couple drove. The rest of the stalwarts left in shifts to forage for food and drink and restroom facilities. I made myself comfortable sitting on the sidewalk, until it started to rain and we had to seek shelter on the stairs in the lobby of the old Post Office. What was really cool was that the remaining core formed a kind of "Alive - Lost in the Andes" thing. Everyone looked out for each other's belongings, and pledges were made so that if someone went to get food, IF the bus came, we would not leave without them. And, in fact, the bus finally appeared at 10:40 am, and we were missing one passenger, TheGirlWithTheGuitar, and we all boarded and made Mr. Lewis wait for her. Mr. Lewis had been saddled with a non-Megabus, and was not familiar with many aspects of the operation of the bus. This meant that he enlisted the aid of one of the passengers, a high school drama teacher named Marti, to act as his "stewardess", getting everyone's reservation information, and asking her to tell us that we should only do "#1" in the on-board bathroom.

Marti, and her retired librarian sister, Liz, sat across the aisle from us and we became fast friends. They told us the tale about trying to see the King Tut exhibit in the 70's, when they went to Chicago three times and FINALLY got in -this time, they have timed tickets in hand. We also spent many miles listening to a the sister's performance art routine about how Marti makes Liz go see Midsummer's Night Dream over and over, and if Shakespeare wrote anything else at all. They were a hoot, and we wanted to hang out with them all day.

We had a rest stop, and as I was getting off the bus, there was a hugely giant bug right on the ground! I scooped it up with an errant subscription card to revel DJ V with, and Mr. Lewis got all excited and took it, apparently to "add to his collection." I never saw what he did with it, now that I think about it...

Inside the rest area, I was thrilled to see a penny squishing machine! DJ V and I had the fifty cents, but no pennies! We were asking folks if they had a spare, and TheGirlWithTheGuitar pressed a shiny penny into my palm. Somehow, Marti had lived her life without the pleasure of squishing pennies, so we showed her the intricacies of the device.

We arrived at Union Station, said our sad goodbyes to the sisters, and grabbed a taxi to take us to our hotel. We checked in and got settled, then decided to check out the neighborhood. Next door to the hotel was a Starbuck's - how lucky for me! We discerned that this particular Starbuck's was designated for GayMenAndTheirDogs. So, we weren't sure if we were going to be served. We went in anyway and chatted up the barista who was doing a more than admirable job of cashiering and barista-ing, given that her entire left hand and arm were wrapped in Ace bandages. She gave us some suggestions for dinner, and then we went exploring many shops. We discovered one store of very hip and funky clothes, and decided to see if we could find something for DJ V's upcoming show. I found a great motorcycle jacket made of cheetah fake fur that I really liked. The scary part was the clerk - a very thin older woman, both arms covered in tattoos, face pierced and sporting a mohawk. Wow.

We stumbled into a cafe for a quick meal, and as it was still fairly early, there were very few patrons, although DJ V pointed out that the subtitle of the restaurant should be the place for single, overweight women to dine...

We walked back to the hotel, showered, changed and got ready to go to the Green Mill to hear Patricia Barber perform. I was slightly anxious about the trip, as one guidebook described the location as a dicey neighborhood. But all was well, and we were dropped off right across the street. Patricia Barber is one of my all-time favorite musicians, and it had been a dream of mine to see her for the first time in this venue, as it is a small, neighborhood bar. I have had the chance to see her a couple of times at "real" concert halls, where the tickets were $60. I wanted to see her in her home space, for a $7 cover.

We arrived early enough to get a table about 12 feet from the stage, with a clear and direct sightline of the piano. I was terribly excited, and so I was looking forward to a few Knob Creek whiskeys. DJ V upped the ante on class, and ordered a few champagne splits and shots of Chambord and went about preparing her own Kir Royales.

Right on time, Patricia Barber arrived and I was shocked to see how tall and Amazonian she is. She wore black pants, a black tshirt and a black jacket, and she carried a wellworn leather portfolio that held her music. She sat at the piano and removed her shoes. The first piece had a long musical introduction, and the first intelligible word we heard from her was "Shit!" Maybe she she hit a wrong note...who can say?

She performed a lot of improvisational jazz pieces, with the guitarist and drummer taking long solos. There were few standards. The best pieces were Danson la Gigue, The Summer Of '42 (in the words of DJ V, "orgasmic!"), and a slow, minimalist Ode To Billy Joe.

At the set break, I found our waitress (we termed her BitchyGirl as she never smiled and hated her job) and asked her to deliver a cognac to Ms. Barber. The next thing I knew, Ms. Barber was standing to the side of our table, and lifted her cognac to us in a salute, and nodded her head and smiled before taking the stage. It was great.

After the show, I went up to the stage to talk to her, and she took my hand and held it for a very long time. I told her it was a great show, and she agreed and then said, "not all of them are."

Flushed with my proximity to greatness, I returned to the table, and DJ V went to the restroom - followed in by Patricia Barber. So it was cool that DJ V got her own private time with Patty B.

Here is an interesting little anecdote by Patricia Barber about the Green Mill, and the nature of her job...

The gigs at the Green Mill in Chicago are always wonderful.... The club is like home and I feel comfortable there. I've worked in bars so long now that I really do identify with the characters and physical surroundings. There is the ability to step into other people's lives and then to step out again. Clubs somehow provide a window into the lives and loves and losses of those who congregate there. I think that as a musician, I've become a semi-skilled voyeur. The stage where the musicians play can function like a reverse theatre; it is in fact a dividing line between those who are living at the moment and those who are working. We are working. Many nights of my life I've envied those who are not working and wondered how it was I got myself into performance instead of life. It's impossible not to look down from the stage and see the characters as they interact. I am working and they see me working... and of course sincere performance is a baring of the soul. But there is a reciprocity in the situation too. And after the years, I believe I know more about my audience than they could possibly think I do. Everything is revealed in rhythm.

Let The Festivities Begin!

DJ V showed up this evening and picked me up so that we could leave for our vacation bright and early in the morning.

On her weekend journey, she picked up a couple of shirts for me - a lovely purple v neck Ralph Lauren Tshirt, and a GORGEOUS Ralph Lauren long-sleeved blue paisley shirt.

She has seen into my heart and seen the 70's guitar player lurking within.

On The Discontinous Nature of this Blog

A day full of negative feedback from FaithfulReaders.

Too much about my personal life and not enough about pythons, I think is the bottom line.

But then, the second critique of the day came in, and I found it very insightful, so I wish to share a bit with you...

It's taken a bit of the fun out of reading your blog. Actually, that’s not necessarily true, it's just made reading it fun in a different way. It's like reading a love story, bit by bit, much like the Lake House. As for me, I fear that I am much like Sandra Bullock, always two years away from the grande passion...P2

So. Who knows what the future will hold? I will continue to write about events that intrigue me, and for the time being, the most intriguing thing I know is DJ V. Stick with me, if you will.

How Many Prisoners Does It Take...

... to implant a lightbulb?

So bad. I refrained from drawing your attention to this story, FaithfulReaders, but I have succumbed to the pressures of bad humor.

My apologies.

Freeing The Inner Geek

My day began with a discussion of the feebleness of Tyrannosaurus arms. I mean, really. What purpose did they serve? Tiny, disproportionate, weak little appendages. To which, much to my ongoing annoyance, my arms were compared. There was also a comparison made to snowmen stick-arms and fingers. Just because some people have mighty pterodactyl wing-span arms...

Anyway, after but a few hours of sleep, I arose and headed off to meet up with my dear Hollywood Stafford. We had some eye-opening coffee outside, and got a chance to visit and catch up. And I also got a good quid pro quo : Bang On A Can's Music for Airports and Josh Rouse's 1972. They look great. And I heard soome exciting news from Hollywood regarding his career plans, and the forthcoming baby, and then, some sad news regarding his Mom. My thoughts are with you, man.

Hollywood observed that I was "a pint low" and that it now looks like I've gotten a high-quality blood transfusion.

After our pre-work visit, I had time to go to Starbuck's and get treats for me and DJ Volvo (Pomegranate Frappuccino).

The big adventure of the day was when DJ V took me downstairs to the cafe, and showed me how to use a free wireless service while we had grilled cheese sandwiches. My inner geek was thrilled.

Habitual Thursday

A great morning - Starbuck's, reading the NYT's, doing the dishes, playing around with my iTunes (which means searching for obscure 45 picture sleeves for individual songs and other obsessive-compulsive activity).

Then I headed down to get two of DJ V's watches repaired, as well as getting a new battery and band for my "work" watch. While I was driving to the watch repair place, I couldn't help but notice the license plate of the car in front of me:

B4EARTH

Before Earth? Huh? Then, it hit me - it was on a Prius. Be For Earth. I had to call DJ V and tell her my next call would probably be from jail asking her for bail money, because I was compelled to drive right into that guy and slap him silly...

Now knowing the time, laden with four watches, I went up to Cleveland, and DJ V and I went to Captain Tonys' for pizza -complete with outdoor dining.

Before I had to be at work, I had enough time to accompany DJ V on a few of work-related tasks, which were in the most lovely areas of Cleveland (note to MyFriendJason - facetious voice), and included a stop at a completely boarded up house, where a beater car ws being towed out of the driveway, and a stop by a
costumer's home. This stop really tried my belief in people, as DJ V was out of visual range for an uncomforatbale amount of time. The good thing about the trip, besides the company and the music, was I spotted a lot of fading advertisements on old brick buildings that I hope to have time to come and photograph, now that I have my SuperCamera...

After work, I continued to save on gas, but extended the ownership of my car by staying in Cleveland. At this rate, I'll never get to 300,000...

We've settled in to a nice Thursday routine - I work til 2 am, and DJ V gets some personal time to do laundry, clean up the house, read magazines, practice juggling, get a pedicure, and God knows what else...and I get to come home to someone waiting for me on the couch.

The Captain could get used to this...in fact, it is a bit too late already.

This Week's Playlist - The EP

Here you go - write your own short story, again...

1. Rico Suave - Gerardo
2. Whip It - DEVO
3. Bang-A-Gong - T-Rex
4. You're The Top - Barbra Streisand and Ryan O'Neal

Lazy Afternoon

My lazy Sunday...As it was MyDayOff, I like to spend my time doing things for other people (get your requests in now, folks), so I went to Starbuck's to get fortification for the day's tasks : laundry and designing a flyer for DJ V’s upcoming gig. It came out very well, I think...we'll see if THEY like it. Which is the reason I am not a REAL graphic designer. I don't work well with constraints.

DJ V came down for dinner, and as I had no plan for that yet, suggested that she stop and just pick up something. I loved that. I asked if she liked spaghetti, and she said, Who doesn't? Good point. So I said that she should call me when she was fifteen minutes away, and I would place a call for a couple of spaghetti dinners and she could pick me up on the way, and we could go get it together. I then told her it would be a a big adventure, because we would have to go through the Akron ghetto to get to the restuarant. DJ V retorts:

So, we're having spa-ghetto?

I haven't laughed that hard since maracas for deaf people...another long, long and very fuuny story.

We get home, with our spaghetto and garlic loaf, and open a bottle of 2001 Clos du Bois North Coast Zinfandel , and let me tell you, EVERYTHING was funny. Must be one potent vintage!

Following dinner, DJ V gives me a present wrapped in yellow tissue. Looked suspiciously like a CD. Turns out to be the CD I told her, in passing, I was looking for, but I referred to it as Laurie Anderson, the The Orange One because I couldn't remember what it was called. Not only did she remember that fleeting bit of information, she got it exactly right. She's good.

DJ V was richly rewarded for her efforts, though I am still scolded for my inappropriate laughter.

The SecretPlan

We woke up today, and I was very excited, because I had a SecretPlan in store for DJ V. The bad part of the plan was that, being a holiday, I did not expect that the downtown Starbuck's was going to be open.

DJ V, ever the optimist, was sure that they would be, so we walked on down to find out. And lo and behold and hallelujah, they were. I was so happy to celebrate my holiday properly.

Anyway, I told DJ V that we were going for a walk. She asked no questions and played along - just what you want from your PartnerInCrime.

And we strolled right into the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame, something DJ V had been wanting to do, but hadn't found the time. She was completely surprised. She had no idea, and I was truly Smiley McSmirkstein the rest of the day...

The big exhibit was a tribute to Bob Dylan entitled: Bob Dylan's American Journey: 1956 -1966. This big banner made me (yes, it MADE me) come up with a long, long tale about how Dylan may be overrated, but to think he did all of that great songwriting and stuff, and that he wrote with such maturity and wisdom, and given that he died at the tender age of 10 was truly impressive...I think I'm funny. We hastily walked thru that exhibut, and tried to watch the vintage video footage, but only made it through one song. Whining and harmonicas is a deadly combination...

One truly inspired exhibit, though, was a wall full of 45 covers of covers of Blowin' In The Wind. Lots of European covers by strange groups with stranger names, and a cover by Marlene Dietrich. Classic.

Just as before, the best part of the museum was the films. This time I got to see the inductee film in its entirety. I stil think it is the best. Although the tribute to MTV is wonderful, and made both DJ V and me yearn to see the complete Cher video for If I Could Turn Back Time, featuring the USS Missouri, the last battleship completed by the United States, and the site of the official Japanese surrender in World War II.

The "highlight" for us onthis trip was seeing Tiffany's I Think We're Alone Now denim vest, complete with tassles, like from a high school graduation cap.

I think the Rock Hall is missing out on a lot of opportunities, like having photographs of the musicians IN the costumes on display, and little iPody things where you can HEAR all of the vinyl that is on display. AND, a CD burning cafe ala Starbucks, where you can sit and make a compilation CD of stuff you discovered while in the museum...just some thoughts.

I also decided that I want to start a line of cars designed specifically for women, The first two models will be called The Vandella and The Shirelle. Genius.

We took advantage of the chance to get some sustanence, and got burgers and drinks and took them OUTSIDE ONTO THE PATIO, overlooking the lake and the skateboard park. It was great.

We strolled on back to DJ V's place, took showers and I played her fancy, exotic wood guitar. Theonly remaining song in my memory at this time is What'd I Say by Brother Ray Charles. I seem to even have forgotten my signature pieces, My Cherie Amour and Batman, the PenPal's favorite request.

Ah, There's no chill and yet I shiver...

So, we went out to dinner at Red Lobster because I REALLY was craving shrimp and a baked potato. And it was there that DJ V looked at me and asked me what I was thinking. And so I told her ThatWhichShallNotBe Said. Then DJ V couldn't finish her meal, nor could she help me finish off the chocolate cake dessert...All in all, this did not happen in the manner I would have planned, but there is something to be said for being in the moment and not planning...talk about a paradigm shift.

We headed back to my house, and had to park several blocks away...and there we were on the sidewalk, and fireworks started going off overhead from the country club. I had never been that close to fireworks before - close enough to see the actual explosion. It was a great show, and just as it ended, it started to sprinkle.

Once safely indoors, I fired up the Cher video, and then treated DJ V to my Patricia Barber DVD, to prepare her for our trip...and the night passed in celebration.

Let The Festivities Begin

There is something very pleasing about calling your own house to wake up someone so that they get to work on time...

That being said, I was running on very little sleep. Luckily, the morning went smoothly, and nicely, given that three of my employees wanted some personal time with me, which involved walking about, or sitting down for coffee...

DJ V only had to work a half day because of the upcoming holiday, so she showed up at 2 pm to take me out to buy a camera -the logic in that statement is obvious and needs no explanation. We GPS'd a camera store, and upon arrival found that it was closed - well, not closed - it didn't exist anymore. Dang lying technology! We then decided we were starving, and went to what seemed like 30 restaurants before we found one that was A. open and B. serving lunch.

And so it was that I finally got to eat at the Cabin Club where we were treated to white linen table cloths and exposed oak beams, fine dining and trophy wines served in a rustic log cabin by waitresses in pressed, long sleeved white Polo buttondowns and very short black cheerleader skirts. An odd look to be sure, but very Great Northern Hotel, with good pasta. The owls are not what they seem.

DJ V dropped me off at my car, where we ran into JLo and had a little visit, then I went home to clean up. DJ V arrived about an hour later to pick me up for the party we were attending. As fate would have it, one of the wine newsletters I subscribe to had sent me an email notification that afternoon raving about the Best Wine For Barbecues, which is exactly where we were going. To wit:

Loads of dark cherry, plum, vanilla, and mocha notes are accentuated by toast, cedar, and boysenberry in this easy to drink wine. Flavors of cherry, blueberry, chocolate, and vanilla are flanked by cranberry, and toasty oak undertones. With a rich mouth feel and long lasting finish this resinous wine is the perfect compliment to any BBQ dish.

So, we stopped into the local market, and I asked for Fess Parker Lot 51 Frontier Red, which they had, and we were promptly on our way.

Given that getting wine took no time, I asked DJ V if we had time to buy a camera, and she so correctly said,

You always have time to buy a camera.

Which we did. I picked it out and fondled it while DJ V took care of incidentals like working out the correct warranty plan. Good team work.

We then hit the road to the House O' Opera Singers. It was also kind of a work reunion, as all but three guests were coworkers of mine. The other three were singing students of the hosts. I was very much looking forward to the introduction of DJ V and MyAdoringPublic.

The Frontier Red was a big hit. We spent most of the time out on the porch with Crispy and Julie and two of the students, but were soon joined by MyAdoringPublic with her SigOther.

After the BBQ came the making of the dessert plates, with DJ V and Annie really getting into their presentations. DJ V took charge of the saucing process, creating aesthetic drizzles on everyone's plate...

As darkness descended, we gathered on the deck to watch a most impressive 30 minute fireworks presentation courtesy of the city of Independence.

We then retired to DJ V's house, because I had a SecretPlan for tomorrow...and also now I can finally answer MyFriendJason's nagging question:

She gives great backrubs. Thanks.

Come Rain Or Come Shine

Had breakfast with JLo this morning at First Watch. She had the foresight to call ahead so a table was reserved for us - an important thing on a busy weekend morning...then the skies darkened and the rains came down.

Not much else happened - DJ V was away for the weekend, out sun bathing and boating and shopping and all manner of lovely weekend activities since the sun was shining down on her part of the world.

She called me to tell me she would be arriving at my place around midnight, which really wasn't a problem, since I had to get up for work at 2:30 in the morning anyway...

If Life Was Orchestrated, It Would Sound Something Like That

It was a bright, sunny wonderful Saturday on the NorthCoast.

A little moment of surrealism - right between the Gap and Banana Republic. Pony rides! But they were really little ponies for really little kids. I would have ridden a pony this morning...

Well, lunch time rolls around, and it seems that at last TheSmokin'Hot HotDogGirl and I have cultivated our relationship to the point where I no longer have to pay for my weekend lunches. It puts me in mind of my hallowed Seattle days, when Cmonkie and MyPersonalBarista Taya would hook me up with all the lattes I could handle...

The shopping center where I work was having fireworks at 10 pm, so the co-manager of the nightcrew and myself made all of the employees go outside behind our store, and we all watched the fireworks for ten minutes. It was really fun to stand out there with everyone, and the pay-off for taking such a small break was immediately recognizable. Everyone felt a deep sense of comraderie, and was in great spirits to tackle the remaining workload of the night.

So, I was driving on home at midnight, listening to a CD compliation of obscure songs that I was missing in digital form that DJ V had kindly collected, and a great, happy, upbeat Am I The Same Girl Swing Out Sister remix came on, just as the skyline of Cleveland came into view - complete with fireworks exploding overhead...

On The Roads

The morning routine - waking, walking to the downtown Starbuck's, walking DJ V to work...

Taurus' are very fond of their habits.

I had not yet secured a place for us to stay on the upcoming trip to Chicago, so I booked a lovely little suite in a lovely little hotel - the big selling feature was that it is across the street from Starbuck's. Pathetic, but true.

DJ V had to take a drive out to Paineseville this morning and there was just enough time for me to call shotgun and ride along before I had to head off to work. I'd never been to Painesville, and though we were there but a short time, the town has a lovely little square - it looks like the quinessential Ohio town.

DJ V had a meeting down south and took off, but called me with a cryptic message just as I got to work:

Can we buy a Harley?