"Tom Snyder and Bill Walsh"

Tom Snyder and Bill Walsh died today. These two were influential in the lives of most Americans. I say most because my friend, Hoots, has probably never heard of Bill Walsh. And my friend, Marty, as well. Now, Slippery, he knows Bill Walsh.

Bill was the architect of the West Coast offense, and this ain't got nothing to do with gang members, aka gangstas. It's football at its finest. It's where the quarterback says in the huddle: "all you receivers and backs sprint like hell, cos I'm a'gonna throw this here pigskin. You catch it, and we're a'gonna score a lot of points."

And score a lot of points they did. First with Joe Montana, who had to be one of the finest q.b.'s ever. "Clutch" was his middle name.

He possessed an almost mystical calmness in the midst of chaos, especially with the game on the line in the fourth quarter. While others saw turmoil and danger after the snap, Montana saw order and opportunity. He was Joe Cool, the unflappable king of the comeback.

Take the 1989 Super Bowl against the Cincinnati Bengals. The San Francisco 49ers were down by three points with 3:20 left when Montana spotted -- no, not an open receiver -- but a personality. "There, in the stands, standing near the exit ramp," Montana said to tackle Harris Barton. "Isn't that John Candy?" And then he led the 49ers 92 yards, throwing for the winning touchdown with 34 seconds left.

After Joe came Steve Young and Jerry Rice. I never liked San Francisco, because they always put a whomping on the Falcons, and because I liked the Cowboys, America's Team. [ pre-Jerry Jones and the guy with the unflappable hairdo ]

Bill Walsh? He was considered a genius on the gridiron.

Then there's Tom Snyder, who kinda went underground the last 25 years. But he was the first late night talk show host. People made fun of his hair; his wide colorful ties; his laugh; and the ubiquitous smoke from his cigarettes.

Dan Akyroyd of SNL did a great impersonation of Tom. And I recall staying up many a night to see old Tom do his thing.

So two influential guys died today. It's a sad day on the Pond, where "time flies when yer havin' fun." the ubiquitous v.c.

P.S. Dedicated to the aforementioned:

The Vick camp offers up some photographic evidence that those dogs weren't for fighting.

 

Pictures courtesy of my friend, Slippery. Who was once in a "Band on the Run" back in the daze of Rock 'N Roll Rowdy High School, our alma mater.

And tonite's youtube video is dedicated to Mike Vick!

"And They Call It Puppy Love!"

 

Gerald Poindexter explains, "If the collar doesn't fit, you must acquit."

 

 

"Romance 101"

It had been a long day for Aaron. In the morning on his commute into work, traffic had snarled to an abrupt halt, taking an extra hour in what normally should have taken only 15 minutes, max. He tried slipping in unnoticed by taking the stairs-the back route-but when he opened the door he came face to face with trouble. Standing in his path to an anonymous entry was old Fuddy Duddy, his boss, who would surely have something sarcastic to say and he did:

"Aaron, you need to stop staying up all night and get yourself some shuteye. How are you going to make senior partner, when your derriere is ALWAYS late for work? Keep that thing in your pants, boy. Takes away your drive, your energy. I can't even remember the last time I had a little roll in the hay."

Aaron grunted and appeared apologetic: "I'm sorry, Len. But it wasn't my johnson this time, honest! There was some serious shit happening out there today. I saw a car on fire for gawd's sake."

"Aaron, my boy. Don't worry about it. Grab a cup of coffee and meet me in my office in 30 minutes. We need to talk about Mrs. Dahlia and her impending court date with the grand jury. You got Foster's deposition, didn't you?"

"Yeah, Len. All the bases are covered. I dotted all the i's and...."

"30 minutes, Aaron. Don't be late," Len said drifting away into another conversation with Alice, Aaron's new secretary, who quickly manged to free herself of him, and whom she considered a real prick. She noticed a forlorn look in Aaron's eyes and said:

"What you need is a massage, young man. You're all tense!"

"What I need, Alice, is that deposition I never got from Foster."

"What happened? I thought you went out to Pointe Lake last week. To meet with him."

"I did but....it's a long story."

"Look, you've got 30 minutes to think your way out of this, and I've got 30 minutes to give you that massage. Now get in your office and pour yourself a drink. Take off that silly suit and lie down on the floor. Dr. Alice has filled your prescription!"

Aaron was in a jam-he knew it. But the offer was too tempting. He slid out of his trappings, as if they were greased, and was standing only in his underwear. "Sherry or cognac," he offered.

"Not Sleepy"

Maybe I'm depressed. My life has gone into the toilet lately. I went to sleep an hour ago and woke up soon afterwards. I know when it's futile; just lying there tossing and turning and knowing the sandman has come once and won't return for a while. And I had all these thoughts in my head about writing a brilliant foray for G.P., so you see where I capitulated.

I'm used to working 60-70-80 hours a week. And being on my feet. And wrestling with the staff and guests, and, most recently, my fellow management. Even then I would have trouble sleeping with too many thoughts running through my brain. What's left of it anyway, so we'll use the term loosely.

And coming home late at night while the rest of the family was asleep, or off in his/her own world. Eating late and gorging myself with fatty foods, such as potato chips, cheese-nips, and sandwiches. I passed that phase of stuffing my face with a pastry from Entemanns. At one point, I idolized the raspberry danish with the sugary icing.

I've come full circle, and I always saw it, envisioned it happening. As if it were destined; as if I had no control over the events that were slowly manipulating themselves into reality. If Plato or Homer were around today, surely I could make a case for them as being a tragic hero.

Our lives ( me and Kitty ) were hectic and chaotic, but we perservered through it all. If I could go back in time, I wouldn't change any of the challenges that faced us, but I would handle them oh so differently. But that's the rub. We arent't privy to hindsight until it's too late.

I'm getting old. I'm getting tired. I don't have the fire anymore. I want to start winding down, not gearing up for more work, work, work. I think I've had enough of that. And as my alter ego likes to say: "Kaput, fini.'"

Will I be happy working a job where I don't have much input? Would I be happy working 40 hours a week? Will I even find a decent job period? Don't know. Only time will tell.

Well, methinks I'm done with the foray. Still not sleepy. But it is what it is. Perhaps a sleeping pill will do the trick.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream, v.c.

P.S. Enclosed is a song [ if I can find it ] which touches quite well on the above!

http://youtube.com/watch?v=KRFypEsn_Y8

"Nuff Said" and "Spooky Tooth"

 

"The Last Puff"

Well, who'd a thunk it? My freakin' computer is back up and running. It only took eleven days. The problem: the ethernet connection.

After visiting in India with Raoul, Abdul-Jabbar, and Frederico; after many calls to my Internet Provider; after many trips to the various computer stores; and after many trips to Comcast ( IP ) to swap out the modem-plus I forgot the cable connection and had to return; it was finally deduced by the CC technician that the ethernet connection was the villian.

Shiiiiiiiit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A recap of the events in modified form:

1) Storm hits Golden Pond! Lightning and thunder right on top of us. Ka boooom!

2) The unplugging of the computer-alas, too late.

3) Can't connect-v.c. is sad.

4) A call to Comcast. Executive ( that's what they call 'em ) on the other end of the line says: "Seems to be working fine to me. Call HP."

5) HP answers very politely. I am impressed with their knowledge, courtesy, and sticktoitness.

6) HP sends me cd's to do a system recovery. ( two days )

7) I load the cd's after purchasing cd's to back-up old files. Because it'll be like "starting over." Apologies to John and Yoko.

8) All my old files are soon kaput, fini.' Still can't connect to internet.

9) A call back to HP. After an hour or so and exhaustive tests, Raoul says: "There's nothing wrong with your computer."

10) I change the modem. I call CC. "Yeah, the signal isn't good. Should I send a technician?"

11) "Yes, please." They show up [ arrive ] this morning; technician says he learned YESTERDAY that if you change the ethernet connection with an obgyn connection, it will work regardless.

12) The proof is in the pudding, cos I am not at the library. And am able to pound the keys in front of the computer.

13) My fingers are tired, and the proprietor is feeling kaput, fini.'

Ethernet, smethernet, v.c.

P.S. This video was just added to youtube.com. Enjoy!

http://youtube.com/watch?v=kiUh-x4M5HQ

"Gotta Know When To Fold 'Em?"

What's it all about, Alfie?

Tonite I am playing Texas Hold 'Em with some buddies of mine, whom most attended Rock 'N Roll Rowdy High back in the daze of incense and peppermint. [ gotta love the 60's flavor, eh? )

I am expecting to take all their money. And much needed it will be.

Au revoir, v.c.

P.S. I am a man of little words these days. I long to have my own p.c. again.

P.S.S. Alas, the following song is NOT from da 60's.

"Library"

Here I am at the library. My computer is still on the fritz. After talking to India ( the country-and can you say outsourcing?-and apologies to John Kerry ) for an hour last night, Kareem deduced the problem was on Comcast's end.

I called Comcast and informed them. My executive technician, whose name was Ahjello, attempted to help, taking me through the same steps as Kareem had done prior, to no avail.

So here I am "stuck in the middle with you." Apologies to Steeler's Wheel. Methinks, they must have hailed from Pennsylvania. And who hasn't seen the "immaculate reception." [ Hoots, for one ] Apologies to Franco Harris.

All is fair in love and war, v.c.

P.S. Marty, being two.

"Fate Has Dealt Me Another Blow"

Saturday afternoon in the sleepy hamlet known as Golden Pond, a violent thunderstorm wiped out my computer. Well, I can still use the computer except for one important point: I can't connect to the Internet.

Poor Hootster! I sent him a most distressing correspondence prior to my involuntary disconnect, and the poor boy thought I had gone into a major funk.

So to the readers of G.P., I am still around but am using the G.P. library to write tonite's foray. I am also filling out job applications, too.

I am reminded of Job in the old testament asking God:

"How much more shit are ya gonna throw my way, Lord?"

To which I would reply: "God, I've had enough. Please, can we kaput, fini' the shit? I surrender!"

It's always darkest before the dawn? v.c.

P.S. Those fuckers at C.B. lied today during my unemployment hearing. But what did I really expect from those slimey fuckers? The truth?????

"I Do Not Swim in the Ocean!" or "Just When You Thought It Was Safe....It Will Never Be Safe Again!"

 

I am currently writing a story about my childhood summer days. Which is in draft form.

While viewing youtube I came across this video. You know how they have 4-5 videos at the top of the link that people are watching. This is what someone was watching.

And thanks to them they wrote tonite's foray. Or helped, anyway.

"Shirley, I'm Mad...."

 

For posting these pictures from 1933. But it is one of the classics. And the movie that inspired others, notably Ray Harryhausen.

I saw it on a double bill twenty years-or so-ago at an "art" theater. With the "Thing." The one with James Arness as an alien carrot from outer space. I have chronicled this story before, but the idea of an extra-terrestrial vegetable wreaking havoc on Earth makes for a good show, eh?

And, yes, they don't 'em like this any more, v.c.

P.S. Honorable mention goes out to "Attack of the 50 Foot Woman!" Not the Daryl Hannah ad nauseum one. But the original. Why h.m.? Because of the scintillating dialogue: "Harry! Harry! Harry!" And who(m) do we know whose name is Harry? Hmmmmmmm! ( Thanks to Jaque )

P.S.S. This from the big poster in the picture:

Fay Wray is the human star in this film about the famous, mythical ape. Many times remade and copied, and another in the works, watching this original is still a special experience not to be missed. Robert Armstrong and Bruce Cabot also star. Added to the National Film Registry in 1991. #43 on AFI's 100 Greatest Movies list. #12 on AFI's Most Heart-Pounding Movies list. #24 on AFI's 100 Greatest Love Stories list. Cabot's grammatically incorrect closing words "Oh, no, it wasn't the airplanes. It was Beauty killed the Beast." is #84 on AFI's 100 Greatest Movie Quotes list (hope I didn't spoil it for you). #13 on AFI's Top 25 Film Scores list.

"Julie is unbuttoning his pants. Bill removes his last article of clothing and throws her to the bed."

I wanted to branch out tonight and write something serious. To get away from the catfish style and attempt to pen some prose. Like in the romance novels. Something like this:

Bill didn't want to go to the party-his tongue was dragging and his boss had given him all the shit jobs to do today- but Julie was adamant.

"Get your ass in the shower, Bill. Let's go," Julie says.

"What's so fucking important about going to this party, Julie? My fucking back aches, and I'm tired, honey; I've had the worst day imaginable," Bill counters as he rambles on.

"I don't want to hear that shit from you, tonight, Bill. You know this is important to me. It's Charlie and Ann's going away party. Ann is my best friend, or have you forgotten that? I can't miss this, and I won't miss it for the world." Julie answers, somewhat demurely.

"Anything you say, Julie. I'm sorry, darling. I know how important this party is to you," Bill speaks sympathetically, as he pours himself a double shot of Glenfiddich!

"Don't you get drunk before we leave the house," demands Julie.

"Hey, Buttercup, get your ass over here. I like what I see," as Bill does an about-face.

"You haven't called me that in years, Bill!" Julie answers somewhat sheepishly, yet intrigued by this new twist from her husband.

"I said get your ass over here. Now!" No longer is he asking; Bill is demanding.

Julie, flush but excited, ambles over to the edge of the bed, where Bill is sitting. He grabs her silken hair and smothers himself in its aroma. He finds her mouth and begins to kiss her. He unsnaps her bra; she steps out of her panties.

Bill stands, admiring this nude creature in front of him. He slowly removes his shirt, as Julie is unbuttoning his pants. He removes his last article of clothing and throws Julie to the bed.

Just then, a knock on the door. Bill forgets he has ordered a pizza from Dominos. The delivery boy, er, man waits patiently outside. His name is v.c. A middle-aged man with thinning hair. Who has sunk so low, he is now a driver for Dominos!

"$25.50, mister!" says v.c.

"Aren't you a little old, buddy, to be delivering pizzas?" questions Bill.

We interrupt the rest of tonight's story. I can't get away from the v.c. mystique. So the story is-what else?-kaput, fini.'

I tried, but I failed, v.c.

P.S. I don't want to get anybody's panniesinawad over at youtube, so I'm just gonna leave the link for tonight's song. It's a good one. Copy and paste into ye olde browser and there you have it!

http://youtube.com/watch?v=1O6VxlMi69Q&mode=related&search=

"Rhapsody.com"

This is a great site. They give you 25 free songs to listen to; then you gotta upgrade. Always a catch, eh? ( pun )

I've pulled up songs from yesteryear that I thought these ears would never hear again. From Paul Mac to Neil Young to Spooky Tooth.

Here's doubting anyone that views the Pond would have any interest in the song that I'm giving you privy to, but it gets you to the site.

In an earlier foray, I mentioned how Mitch turned me on to this song back in the daze at "Truck U." me olde alma mater. And he also turned me onto something else before we previewed the song.

Drugs are definitely bad, and I am no proponent. The liberal side of me thinks it would be a good idea to make all drugs legal. Get rid of the underground and dangers inherent. Doubt it will happen any time soon. Makes too much sense.

It's no epiphany that we as a country are hopped-up on drugs. Talking about the legal ones here. Someone just told me recently that 50% of Americans are on anti-depressants. It's a tough world, eh?

Anyway, here's the link. I've listened to "Lil Lamb Dragonfly"; "Stupid Girl"; "Don't Cry No Tears"; and, of course, tonite's featured song: "I Am The Walrus" by Spooky Tooth.



Gone fishin', v.c.

"Live Free or Die Hard"

 

I would like to debunk ( word of the day ) the notion that I, yours truly, only watch old movies-Grade B ones at that. Not true. I just have a titillation for the movies of yore. [ mama ] And another new viewer thought G.P. was caught up in the 60's. Not true. Even tho' I share the same titillation.

I did go see the newest from Bruce Willis. I like him in just about anything he does. And he was awesome in "Pulp Fiction," one of my favorite movies EVER! And the original "Die Hard?" It don't get no better. ( double negative but my proofreader was terminated a few days back, and we ain't found nobody yet ) Plus, we have "poetic license" here on G.P.

Anyway, the new flick was great. A bit cartoonish. And a bit unrealistic. Not a bit, actually, but off the Richter scale in terms of believability. That's what was so good about the first one-the script was somewhat plausible.

It's all about escapism. And you can definitely escape in this one. So yore [ mama ] film critic for one day deems this one to be a "thumbs up."

Forget Ebert and Roeper, v.c.

P.S. And whatever happened to Bonnie Bedalia?

P.S.S. Click here for the trailer. ( Rooms to rent-50 cents. I'm a man of means by no means.... ) Sorry for the 60's reference. My bad!

Another Series in "They Don't Make 'Em Like They Used To"

 

Two films piqued ( word of the day ) and whetted ( word of the day part two ) my appetite for a midnight viewing on my fav channel, TCM. They are "Five Came Back:"

The soon-to-be-stranded characters are introduced quickly but in vivid little vignettes so that you have an immediate impression of who they are and their backstory. For instance, secretary Alice Melbourne (Wendy Barrie) is eloping with her employer Judson Ellis (Patric Knowles); Crimp (John Carradine), a law-enforcer, is escorting Vasquez (Joseph Calleia), a wanted murderer to justice; Peggy (Lucille Ball), a woman of questionable virtue, is running away from a sordid situation, etc. There is also a little boy on board and an elderly couple and part of the escalating tension hinges on that final moment when a select group of people get to fly to possible safety or remain behind to become souvenirs of the headhunt"

And there's "Back from Eternity:"

Back from Eternity may sound like some sort of sequel to From Here to Eternity (1953) based on its title, but John Farrow's 1956 aviation disaster thriller turned jungle survival drama (with a twist that anticipates The Flight of the Phoenix, 1965) is in fact a faithful remake of the director's own 1939 Five Came Back.

Who could resist. Certainly not the proprietor of Golden Pond!

P.S. Isn't it neat how "spell check" is loaded into everything these days. Certainly could have used this feature when I attended Rock and Roll Rowdy High! "

"Joey Bishop and the Fat Pack, er, Rat Pack."

 

"One....Two....Three....Four....Five.....Six....Seven....

Will our hero get up before the count of ten? The jury is still out. Perhaps I can get O.J."s jury. And they will exonerate me. I didn't kill anyone. I don't wear Bruno Magli shoes, and even if I did, they wouldn't be soaked with blood. Last time I looked, I wasn't African-American.

It's tough being my age and trying to find a good job. Prospective employers look at me as a liability, one who carries a lot of baggage. There's got to be something out there for me. What will it be? In Al-Anon and these church services I have been privy to via television, the solution seems to be to allow God ( higher power ) to take care of things. ( sorry, hoots for the "t" word )

Because of my sponge-like brain for the trivial things, ( oops ) I will cringe when using said word and will have to find an alternative.

When I was in the 7th grade, Ms. Spence, whose husband looked like Joey Bishop, raved over a paper from Pam Griffin on "The Panama Canal." Seems the rest of the class used sentences like: "Yeah, the government went in and cleaned it up, cos it was dirty, dontchaknow. And people died cos of the dirty conditions. But we, the U.S.of A., being the good guys and all, got "things" rolling and soon you could cut across the middle of the world, if you were lucky to have a boat. Yeah, U.S.A. The End! P.S. Most people said it couldn't be done, but we showed 'em."

Ms. Spence was obese and Joey, her husband, was skinny. Seemed he liked a lot of meat on the bones. Ms. Spence always got the usual comment: "If she lost about 100 lbs. she'd look darn good, cos she's got a pretty face."

Anyway, the aforementioned Pam Griffin wrote a masterpiece for the 7th grade. Hers went like this:

Yes, the United States Government arrived at the site for the Panama Canal. Ravaged by disease and unsanitary conditions, the U.S. worked towards constructing the canal! With due diligence and years in the making, the canal was finished. And a link joining the Atlantic and the Pacific was available to seafaring vessels. The U.S.A. had completed what many experts had deemed impossible. The following story is now kaput. Fini.' Signed, Ms. Pam Griffin, writer extraordinaire for the 7th grade class. "

That story always stuck with yours truly. Cos I was one of the minions who didn't know how to use sophisticated words to write my tale.

Wonder what Pam is doing now? She was a redhead, and I went bonkers over her. Ms. Spence is still around from what I've heard. But Joey, her hubby, died a few years back, when Ms. Spence rolled over in the bed and squashed the poor fella, killing him in his sleep. I heard she has since remarried to another thin-framed man who resembles Peter Lawford.

In summary, 1) don't get fired by your employers-try the art of "ass-kissing" for your state of mind; 2) For seventh graders only. When composing forays, avoid words like "dontchaknow" and "cleaned-up;" 3) Be afraid-be very afraid, if your wife outweighs you by one hundred pounds, and you sleep together;" and 4) Don't ever work in the food business. ( I just threw that in for the "halibut." )

5) Farewell and adieu, v.c.

The Adventures of Ozzie and Harry"

 

"I Can't get No Satisfaction"

It was good hearing from the mysterious/enigmatic Rockhead. I don't know who he is, but he has been a follower of my "forays into the infantile" for 6 years or so. Anonymity and all that.

I had an epiphany Friday night after downing a few Killians and one Corona. I was speeding home-don't try this yourself-and listening to tunes that I had once burned to a cd. Modern technology and all that. "Like a Hurricane" from Neil Young; "1985" from Paul Mac; "Miss You" from da Stones were getting me fired-up. There's that freakin' word again, and I swear it was unintended.

Anyway, I made it home. Sat on the screened-in side porch, and my life's situation became crystal clear. I railed against the fuckers who had caused havoc in my life. I used choice phrases like "fuck you" many, many times. And decided that I couldn't please everyone, so why not please myself. Some people in my life will say that's what I always did anyway, but I don't think so.

I woke up the next day, and the feelings were gone. I fact, I felt like shit all day. Depressed, tired, and defeated; I couldn't even get excited about writing anything on G.P. After a shot of a second wind, I posted the picture from Abbott and Costello. And somehow from somewhere, Brian's Drive-In movies web page appeared. And I assembled the collage. Feeling better, I read a few pages from Chris Darden and the OJ Simpson trial called "In Contempt."

Black people have a lot of baggage to carry in today's world. Their story is ALWAYS about being black. They have to worry about being sellouts, Uncle Toms, and forgetting where they came from. And I thought I had problems.

Anyway, rock on and rock steady, Rockhead, who(m)ever the fuck you may be. It's always good hearing from you.

As the world turns, v.c.

P.S. My favorite line in tonight's song is:

When i'm watchin' my tv
And that man comes on to tell me
How white my shirts can be



P.S.S. Thank God for life's little pleasures. G.P. per example.

"Always A Buxom Broad in these Grade B Movies"

 

This collage is courtesy of "back in the daze," a soon-to-be trademark of yours truly.

"Cute"

 

Of course, I remember seeing this movie back in the daze. And I remember seeing all the spinoffs. And I remember Boris Karloff. And Lon Chaney. And Bela Lugosi, whose famous line was always: "I vant to drink your blood!"

Most of the werewolf, Frankenstein, Mummy, and vampire movies were serious stuff, which scared the beegeezus out of us small tykes. But Abbott and Costello's addition made for a light-hearted romp through filmdom. Who's on first, eh?"

Life IS like a box of chocolates, v.c.

P.S. This picture is courtesy of TCM!

"Music by Bernard Herrmann and Special Effects by Ray Harryhausen!"

 

One of my favorite movies. Of All Time. They don't make 'em like this anymore!

"The Best!" or "From the Land Beyond Beyond; From the World Past Hope and Fear; I Bid You Genie Now Appear!"

I know I have put pictures from this movie on my web site. But never the original trailer. God bless Ted Turner and TCM! Not sure about Jane Fonda!

"Happy 4th of July"

 

"Blogs of Note" and "Unfortunately, Mine Ain't Listed"

Tonite, I happened to run across a list that Google proclaims as "blogs of note" while rummaging through blogger.com. Here they are:

* Tartlette
* Anne's Food
* Unit Structures
* Macadaan.com
* les dessins de pierre Alary
* Tantalus Prime
* History on Trial
* The Sychronicity of Indeterminacy
* The Assimilated Negro
* Blogging Zelda

I was intrigued by the "Assimilated Negro" so I stopped by. And read his foray about "The Time I Got Arrested Holding a DVD." Seems he was just walking down the streets of NYC minding his own business, when 3 cops stopped him for questioning-as they pushed him against the fence and began scrutinizing the DVD case. It's a 3 parter, but Act 3 just shows a picture of an empty cell with "to be continued" written across the screen.

Then there's "The Synchronicity of Indeterminacy." For those who have read me for years know my penchant for synchronicity, which "spell check" doesn't even recognize. But when dropping by, it was all greek to me, so I hastily made a retreat.

"Anne's Food" was quite interesting. Many luscious desserts. With accompanying pictures. Apricot pie; kiwi-laced sauce; tangerine belafonte; bela lugosi veronique; and lawn chaney surprise. If you perused my introductory picture at the top of this here blog, and have read the texts concerning "getting my shit together," it will become clear that I do not need to ogle these fine delicacies.

And then there was "Blogging Zelda." Whose introduction smacked of effeteness. ( How 'bout that for the word of the day? )

"Just because you write me a comment doesn't mean I'm a'gonna leave it on my 'precious' site. Cos my 'Blogging Zelda' is so popular and trendy, I can pick and choose whose comments I deem to be worthy." Must be nice. Shirley, people use her to gain attention to their own writings, so she probably has a point.

But then I read her most recent post, and I couldn't make head nor tails out of it. I skipped to the bottom and read comments praising her talents and humor. Maybe it's me. Maybe it's "just a silly phase I'm going through."

I just got off the phone with my sis, again. So the mood has dissipated and has become in the words of that old philosopher, "kaput, fini.'"

Happy Fourth of July and all that, v.c.

P.S. Forgot the summary. Bad form, eh? In summary, the above blogs are submitted for your approval and perusal. As yet another philosopher once penned: "I report; you decide." As this philosopher says: "Make up your own damn mind."

"Ahoy, TCM" Story to Follow

 

"It Wasn't Jack the Ripper"

It's almost the 4th of July. My compadre over at Hootsbuddy's Place is having a hard time writing his column. I'm struggling somewhat as well, so a tip of the cap to TCM Monthly Newsletter for saving the day.

I just saw the trailer for "Sicko" from Michael Moore. I might have to see this one.

I just turned off "Air America." 8 minutes of "let's blame whomever we can for all of our problems." It couldn't be that the shows are not entertaining. Nah!

"What you got there, Hooper?"

"Anti-shark cage!"

"Anti-shark cage? Cage goes in the water....you go in the water....shark's in the water....our shark? Farewell and adieu to you fair spanish maidens....

And it wasn't a boat accident, v.c.

P.S. Here's hoping we get another alum from Rowdy High. And whatever happened to Slippery? Eh?

"Exercise Regimen"

As chronicled in an earlier post this past week, the catfish, aka yours truly, has adopted a new fitness regimen. I am walking 2-3 miles a day. In the last 3 weeks, I have missed only one day. Not bad, eh? But I am outta shape something fierce. Once I left the airport ( involuntarily, I might add ) the old bones of mine atrophied. And getting 'em back up to prime time hasn't been easy.

Watching "Rocky Balboa" last night made me realize as we enter senior citizenshipdom, we best get our acts together.

In the latest Rocky foray, the Italian Stallion's trainer tells him: "Rock, he [ Mason, the Line, Dixon, the current heavyweight champion of the world ] is faster and quicker than you. Rocky, you got arthritis in your neck and calcium deposits in your joints. The only chance you got against him is brute force."

Another interesting aspect of the film is you never see Rocky's full physique, during the match, as he's getting up from his fight stool. There's always a "cutaway scene" as they say in the business. Believe me, this is not unintentional.

Even so, I loved the film. And Bill Conti has added a shrill horn sound during the famous song. Flying high now, eh? Too bad Ms. Coppola was not around as Adrian. She probably looks worse than poor old Sly, anyway.

Great flick; great inspiration. Never give up and keep trying. As they say in my neighborhood: "I heard that." Or "dat" depending on southside or eastside of the traffic light.

Flying somewhere between high and low, v.c.

P.S. It is a requirement today if you're reading this here foray to post a comment on whether or not you have seen "Rocky Balboa!"

P.S.S. Some more poetic license: Rocky is in his 50's according to the script. No mention of what specific age. I just googled Sly, and he will turn 61 July 6.

"Tagline: Never Give Up! And Never Quit Believing"

 

What an inspiration! And what a mind from Sly Stallone to invent these stories and characters. I say "God Bless, Rocky and Sly Stallone." With an honourable mention to Bill Conti, who came up with the music.