"Merry Christmas"

And a classic song from yesterday courtesy of youtube and one of my subscriptions.

"3 D Horror Is Back!"

Merry Christmas to you and yours. And in January take the family to see "My Bloody Valentine." Shades of the 80's. And in 3-D to boot. And who says they don't make 'em like they used to?

"Attack of the Crab Monsters"

Now this is my kind of movie. Shot in glorious black and white aka ebony and ivory. Circa 1957. And, alas, they don't make 'em like they used to.

"My John Lennon Tribute"

It was 28 years ago today, the death of John Lennon. I remember watching the MNF telecast, and Howard Cosell alerting the national audience of John's death. Unbelievable it was. My tribute follows: To my boyhood idol.

"Black Beatles"

Here's a reprint from Yesterday. Funny shtick featuring songs from the "Black Beatles" like "We All Live In A Yellow Coup de Ville"; "I Be 6 Feet Four"; and "I Should Have Known Better With a Bitch Like You"; among others.

"Friday the 13th"

Jason Voorhees returns for another romp at Camp Crystal Lake.

"White Coconut Cake"

I haven't penned anything lately, so because I am a long-suffering food service employee, here's a great recipe for Christmas, provided, of course, you like coconut cake.

From the Food Network it is. So indulge and make the darn thing. There are other options such as traversing so far to your favorite supermarket. But it wouldn't be as good as doing it yourself.

And Christmas is just right around the corner. As for me, I'm dreaming of a white one. With chestnuts roasting on an open fire-Jack Frost nipping at your heels.

Gimme shelter, v.c.

"BLues Deluxe" Featuring A Blistering Piano Solo Courtesy of Nicky Hopkins

"From YesterYear....Circa 2004"

I got a spike in traffic today. From whence did it come? None other than my post from 2004 "Get Yer 10-12 lb. Turkey at H.W." Seems the last minute buying mania is in full-swing. Do I miss it? Hell Whole no! Reprinted via permission from yers truly.

Well, it's hell week. Catering time. And time to dust off those famous words:

10-12 pound turkey
2 qts. of cornbread dressing
A pint of cranberry sauce
A dozen rolls
And a pumpkin or pecan pie.

Back in the day we never included the pie or rolls. And we made dressing in the bain maries. For those unfamiliar with the terminology, it is a rectangular holding tank filled with water and kept hot with gas burners. [ see Paleolithic Age for more details ]

And we used to swish our ladles in the water whenever we needed a quick fix for the serving line. But with the advent of stricter sanitation requirements, swishing is a lost art.

And the staff is required to wash their hands more. And some even wear latex bras, er, gloves. Apologies to Playtex. And whatever happened to girdles? Again, back in the day, every female HAD to wear one. You just weren't one of the "in" crowd if you didn't squeeze your midriff, via the buttocks region, into a Playtex girdle.

I guess they went the way of pantylooms, poodle skirts, saddle oxfords, penny loafers, and bouffant hair styles. Was it Twiggy who led the way? Or Mary Quant, or was it Helen Gurdy Brown? Who knows or who cares?

And the staff is required to have clean aprons. Wiping your mouth on one or blowing your nose into one is strictly verboten.

And the art of putting your fingers into a veggie bowl so you can get a better grip-better leverage- is not allowed anymore.

And dented cans? Throw 'em out. So's you don't serve botulism stew.

And you got to "date dot" the product. The day of trying to squeeze [ see girdle paragraph ] another week out of the pork chow mein is no longer considered appropriate behavior.

And cooking enough fried chicken in the morning to last until 8:30 p.m. is now out of the question. Doesn't fit the hot holding guidelines. Same for chop beef, fried cod, er, pollock, catfish, er, basa, er, tilapia, and hushpuppies.

Another no-no. The days of allowing the truck driver to bring in torn bags of flour, sugar, meal, etc. are kaput. Fini'. Cos we don't know what kind of critters done crawled up in that bag. Boll weevil, roach, varmint-name your poison.

Well, I could go on and on. But it's Thanksgiving. And I need my beauty sleep. Cos it's Hell Week at H.W. [ Hell Whole ]

Farewell and adieu, v.c.

"Great Balls of Fire!"

I loved Jerry Lee as a kid, even going so far as to play our green sofa as my pumping piano. Whilst listening and/or lip-synching to the record. I really dug him-rock n' roll, ya know. It was a shame he vanished from the landscape when he erred by marrying his 13 year old [ second cousin once removed ]. The following song is heavy [ slang 60's word ] even tho' the dialogue is in Spanish. The black dude he's talking to on stage is Chuck Berry. Seems Chuck has top billing, but Jerry has the current number one record in the U.S. So Jerry wants to close the show. But the contract is binding, so Chuck will close. After his performance he allegedly says to Chuck: "Follow that, Killer!"

"Another Way To Die"

"Go Unions!"

Saw this on Boortz. Good stuff!

"Scarlett Takes a Tumble"

Funny video. From youtube.

"You Can't Do That"

Excellent archive. Fab 4 singing a song in Melbourne, Australia. Circa 1964. I'm enclosing the link, cos I don't want them to discontinue it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g3O79UtLotc

"Long Time Gone"

It's been a while since I have written a few riffs. No one seems to have missed me, which brings us to the story of my life.

With all that said, I am about to pontificate on the upcoming election. Yes. Barack Obama will win. Marxist policies aside and all that. The economy is in the tank, and when that happens, the new kid on the block takes over. It happened with Jimmy "Inflation" Carter and will continue.

So get ready for a new philosophy in the White House!

On a dissimilar vein, the Phils won the World Series, and Tony Romo is still sidelined with a broken pinkie finger.

That's it. From this pontificator. Gimme shelter, v.c.

"Desperado"

"Look at Me"

"Katt Williams"

This is one funny dude.

"Carl Perkins, Anyone?"

Who in the fuck is Carl Perkins? A Rockabilly hootnanny hoot kinda guy from back in the daze. who wrote this one and "Blue Suede Shoes" and "Everybody's Trying to be my Baby!" To name a few.

"Flowers for ur Girl" Eh?

 

 

"Riffs"

Yes, by being in the food biz, I must admit to a daily dose of watching the floor and seeing if it needs sweeping. Unfortunately, for me that is. Sweep the floor; mop the floor; eyeball the floor; I'm tired of looking at the freaking floors-if you know what I mean.

Anyway I thought I'd jot down a few lines-a few riffs if you will. Seems I'm out of touch with the real world. Even tho' I do know there's a lot of panic out there. No where to buy petrol on a regular basis; debates with the Dems and Repubs; mortgage dilemmas with homeowners and banks, ye old lending institutions; bailouts from the government; and on and on.

Yet October is here and baseball is in full swing. Shirley, oblivious to the problems of John Doe. And the Cubs are losing once again. Seems the curse of the goat is still manifesting itself. Or perhaps they have worse luck than yours truly. And will someone finally concede that Jolting Joe Torre is a helluva manager. Who made the playoffs with the Braves, Yankees, and now the Dodgers. Hall of Fame in my book.

And Tampa Bay finally won a playoff game. Its first ever.

So life goes on....bra. Apologies to a group which once called Liverpool home.

And my riffs are through....fini'....kaput.

Out of touch in '08, v.c.

P.S. Here's looking at you, kid.

P.S.S. The cure
According to three interviews with Sam Sianis, William Sianis' nephew-in-law, the Curse of The Billy Goat can be dispelled only by the Chicago Cubs organization's showing a sincere fondness for goats; allowing them into Wrigley Field because they genuinely want to, not simply for publicity reasons. Maybe the real cure, however, involves the Detroit Tigers, as the Cubs lost to them in the 1945 World Series, would've played them in the 1984 World Series had they beaten San Diego one more time, and, most importantly, beat them both times they won the World Series, in 1907 and 1908, respectively. [3]

"I Look at the Floor and See It Needs Sweeping"

This is an incredible version. No one can sing it better than the writer himself. And one of my favorites from the Fab 4.

"Because"

"Tooling Home Revisited And How My Filling Station Is Out Of Petrol"

Regular and unleaded that is. Does diesel count? Who would have ever thunk it?

"Tooling Home Revisited"

Me and old Betsy were tooling home tonight when I let out a who'd a thunk it, and she let out a groan. What caused our distress? The filling station we passed was advertising petrol at a mere $4.39 a gallon. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit! $.80 a gallon rise in one day has to be a record. Call Ripley and exclaim "what the fuck?"

Seems our capitalistic system is working just fine thank you. Hurricane's are a'brewing and the market has reacted.

But enough of life's little problems. Here's another one from Frenchy and 6626-the lead guitarist. Frenchy plays a mean bass. And they are Fab 4 fans. Like you know who.

Take it away, Frenchy. v.c.





I've worked with one of the most talented guitar player,jun626, youtube musician for this song "And your bird can sing"!

This guy is incredible,he plays so cool,moreover is the nicest man i've ever met on youtube,one day he just asked me if we could work together on my new beatles video,and i was as excited as him!

I advise you to have a look right now on his channel,he plays some guitar beatles works with lot of talent,and i was also impressed by his led zeppelin guitar works.He has done a huge work,and there are lots of videos.

http://fr.youtube.com/jun626

He is also an astute video editer,he edited this video,i could not do better.

Internet is magic,we each live at the different sides of the earth and we could do this project quickly,it was so cool,with a lot of friendship and musician respect.

Instruments used:
Jun 626 used his yellow gibson SG
I played on my hofner and used a nice rickenbacker copy.

Thanks for watching this video,and have a good day,or evening :)

Julien.
Category: Music

Tags: beatles and your bird can sing frenchytouch jun626

"What's It All About?"

"The Snowman and The Hootster"

The Snowman ( Jerry Reed ) is dead and I'm sad. And the Hootster is taking a hiatus. I'm sad about that as well.

I left a comment on H.P. but not sure it went through. Microsoft error ya know. Plus, the hootster himself hasta approve any comments made by aliens from outter space. So time will tell.

Every now and then a movie comes along that sweeps and intrigues the nation. "Smokey and the Bandit" was one of those films. With an all star cast and a fledgling actress named Sally Field. Jackie Gleason gave the funniest performance of his life.

R.I.P Snowman. And what a song he penned! v.c.

"Live Kiev 2008"

"Mother Superior Jumped the Gun"

One of my subscriptions to youtube posted a new video today. They sing "Happiness is a Warm Gun!" Sung by Frenchy.

Me and Bogus Bob loved this song back in the day....of wine and roses.

I am always amazed at how music transcends age, cultures, etc. Rock on, Frenchy.

"Things Have Changed"

Back in the cro-magnon days of my early adulthood, the following product would have been outlawed. But not today. What is it? Perhaps you've seen the ad on tv?

What's the buzz all about? Pun intended and appears in the following video.

"Only $19.99"

 

"I've Had Enough!"

I've worked in the food-biz for too fucking long. There I said it. I've had enough!
Tonite I dealt with the same shit that replays itself over and over. I was once again accused of "picking at" someone. Well. when I tell you 2-3 times to do something and you deliberately have your own agenda, then, yes, there will be a problem. It's called "I'm the boss and you ain't." It's a simple concept really. Follow my instructions or get the fuck out of my sight.

Hre's a tale from yesteryear! Same old worn-out story:

November 16, 2004
It was an ordinary day.

The weather is getting colder and strawberries are once again out of season. Happens every Thanksgiving, eh?

There were beaucoup problems at work. They don't call it H.W. for nothing. Everything seemed out of synch. Nothing worked just right or was broken. A little off-kilter. And some of my passive-aggressive team members tried to "show-out." Meaning they weren't on their best behavior and wanted to engage me in their chaos to which I didn't want to be a party.

"Why are you always pickin' on me?" Susie, the silverware roller asked in the afternoon.

"Susie, I'm not picking on you, but when you wipe your mouth on your apron, I have to say something."

Susie just looked at me in disbelief. She doesn't like to be told anything and likes to do whatever she wants. She does enjoy the role of victim. I am no psych0, er, analyst but this is one layman's opinion.

Later....

"Susie, be sure and wash your hands when you use your hands to wipe the voluminous sweat off your face." I politely scolded.

"Is there anything else that's wrong, while I'm standing here?" she said in her most perfect p.a. tone.

"Yes, Susie. I'm sorry but I need you to wear a hair net. And please remove your apron, the one with the bright cherry stains and black carbon build-up. It doesn't look good to the guests." I countered meekly.

Later....

Susie is trying to get on my "good" side.

"The people using the bathroom must be eating the toilet paper. Second role today," she said to me as I was working in my office dutifully perusing the holiday orders.

"Ha ha, that's a good one, Susie." I said. Hopefully, she knows to wash her hands after a trip to the lavatory I privately mused.

Later me and Susie's paths met again....

"Susie, can you help us serve the guests out here on the firing, er, serving line? Please!"

"Be right there," she said wiping her dripping forehead with her own personal towel.

"Susie. Be sure and wash your hands before you serve the guests, please!"

"But I didn't touch my hands to my face."

"Susie. I'm sorry if you feel I'm picking on you, but that towel of yours is a haven for bacteria. And you must wash your hands."

Well, Susie didn't like what was said. Made a u-turn away from me and made a beeline to the team member's bathroom. She soon emerged and relunctantly helped with the guests.

At 9 p.m., Susie left the building, allah Elvis, without getting checked out. She intentionally, er, forgot to wipe her shelves. And she left two loads of dirty laundry [ apologies to Don Henley-sorry, couldn't resist ] scattered about.

She's off for two days, so when I engage her on Friday for today's indiscretions, it will probably go like this:

"Susie, I hate to even bring this up, but you forgot to check out with me Tuesday. And in your haste to get home, you forgot to do a few of your duties."

"GET OFF MY BACK! Quit pickin' on me. Boo hoo hoo."

It's just been one of those days. Susie; the light fixture that tripped the breakers; Peter Potwasher's personal dilemma, which caused him to leave early, etc.; And when the fry cook let the drain run over.....

Farewell and adieu, v.c.

P.S. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

The Love You Take Is Equal To The Love You make!"

Simple line but ain't it the truth? I put these clips on here so I can have them for handy reference and frequent viewing by yours truly.

This is a good one from 2002. Paul has put together quite a nice little band. And the drummer is dynamic to say the least.

August 17th was my sis's birthday. So happy birthday, sis, you liberal bedwetter you. Apologies to Boortz, who coined the phrase. And here's hoping you had a peace demonstration to attend or a human rights regalia.

Altho you never venture here hope you had a good one-and many more to come.

You say it's your birthday-well it's my birthday, too, v.c.

"Aunt Mad Chronicles"

On the left side of Golden Pond there's a list of posts per year. 2005 being my heyday when I penned over one thousand forays. I was really hooked-line and sinker. Evidently.

As the years go by my obsession has abated-for lack of a better word. For whatever reason, tonight I decided to peruse some of my earlier works and came upon this one about my Aunt Madeline. And the really nice comments from hoots, Slippery, and the bbq man. What was surprising was that the hootster thought I had plagiarized my foray into the infantile. What a compliment, eh?
Here are the comments-the story to follow:

Hoots said...
Outstanding, Cat.
One of your best pieces. Altogether different from your usual schtick. Makes me wonder if you plagiarized it from someplace.
Whatever vein you tapped for this one, you need to find it again and tap some more.
Getting free of HW has liberated your writing ability among other things. Inhale deeply and strut.

7:24 AM


Anonymous said...
I agree with hoots. I want to hear more about Aunt Mad, goddammit!

Slippery

9:02 AM


vietnamcatfish said...
Thanks Hoots and Slippery, It was a departure from my usual forays.
Plagiarized? Every word was written by yours truly. Aunt Mad was quite a character and loved me dearly. She died in 1970. I miss her.

Ye old truth is stranger than fiction comes to mind concerning Aunt Mad. I grew up listening to "squeeze my sponge," "Edowah Diddley," and all of the others.

Thanks for the kind words, guys. Part II will write itself.

1:24 AM


IBBQ4YOU2 said...
Now you are getting down to bidness! After all, isn't it the purpose of having a blog, to be able to write? You have the ability and have shown it off. Now lets see some more good stuff like the "Aunt Mad Chronicles." It is only the tip of the iceberg. You posess a wealth ability to entertain with the written word. Enough of the posted pictures and links. I would rather wait a week for a story like this than to peruse pictures and comments about them daily. K?

Of course it would probably be better if you submitted your manuscripts to a publisher first.............. But then I wouldn't have the pleasure to read this stuff without paying first!

Great entertainment, Thanks catfish!

8:11 PM

Originally entitled: "The Fish as a Yuppie, er, Guppie"

Friday, December 16, 2005
"The Fish As A Yuppie, er, Guppie"
My Aunt Mad was a hoot, a closet nudist, and had big titties. She was proud of them and used to dust them with powder she purchased at Bloomingdales.

She could also pee for minutes.

"I gotta squeeze my sponge," she used to say on one of our jaunts to the country in her Chevy Bel-Air. We wouldn't bother looking for a gas station. She would pull over on the side of the road, find a grassy noll, squat, and pee, er, squeeze her sponge for minutes, it seemed.

"Want a banana split, l'il fella," she always asked as we headed to Monday's Lake. I'm guessing here, but my weight fluctuations and addiction to sugar may have been formulated here. I would get a banana split on the way, and another one on the way back.

Monday's Lake was deep into the country and took an hour to get there, motoring down the interstate. A tree hung over a small creek. And perfect for an adolescent in search of adventures. Sometimes we'd take Bogus Bobby with us, but when he almost drowned in another lake a few years prior, and Aunt Mad had to make a daring rescue to save his life, we didn't always bring him along.

"Don't slam the door....Goddammit, I told 'em not to slam the goddamn door."

Aunt Mad would pick us up after school in her chevy. Me and Bogus in the front. Sheena and Sandra in the back seat. Sandra was tall for her age but infamous for slamming the goddamn door. It would make Aunt Mad, well, mad. Really mad.

Sheena, my kindergarten love, would slam the goddamn door each time she departed the back seat. And Aunt Mad never failed to get pissed and begin her diatribe. She always wanted to know aloud why they "slammed the goddamn door." But it happened every day on the way home from school, so she should have been expecting it.

I would always sit there as my friends departed the Bel-Air hoping they wouldn't slam "the goddamn door," but like clockwork, the goddamn door would get slammed. In hindsight walking home would have been a more viable option, or perhaps I could have said, "Sandra, Sheena, don't slam the goddamn door when you get out the car, cos Aunt Mad don't like it when you slam the goddamn door."

"I'll show you mine, if you'll show me yours."

Bogus was 11 months older than me. He lived next door, and I would see him from afar and vice-versa, but we didn't really meet until we enrolled in Guilotine Elementary as kindergarteners. On the first day of school we walked home with our moms and instantly became best buddies. We were at that curious age and I asked to see his heiney if he showed me his. So we ventured out to the abandoned warehouse behind my upstairs apartment and showed each other our buttox. Not sure where Aunt Mad was, but this time frame precluded the slamming of the goddamn door.

"I'll never buy you another goddamn gingerbread man again."

Aunt Mad had taken me and Bogus Bobby to Sears and told us to stay in the car while she purchased a quick item.

"Stay in the car; I'll be right back."

Well, kids can be kids so we thumbed our noses at Aunt Mad's instructions and left the car. We went into Sears and rode the escalators up and down. We were so enthralled in our adventures that we lost track of time. When we returned to the car, Aunt Mad was pissed more than I had ever seen her. I wished Sheena and Sandra were there to slam the goddamn car doors to divert her attention, but, alas, they were nowhere to be found.

"Get in the goddamn car."

We whimpered into the back seat.

"Where have you been, god dammit. I told you to stay in the goddamn car. I had the goddamn police looking for you. Won't listen to a goddamn thing. You [ me ] are the most hard-headed kid I've ever seen.

"Eat these goddamn gingerbread men, cos I ain't ever buying you another goddamn thing." [ throws the goddamn sack of gingerbread men into the goddamn back seat ]

I was feeling bad, guilty, and sad. I knew she would buy me more gingerbread men with the little raisins for eyes and buttons down its front, but we-I- had let her down. And I felt bad. Not sure how Bogie felt. But we heard a lot more god damns before we got home.

"I'm gonna shave my head and go down the railroad backwards."

One of Aunt Mad's favorite sayings. It was said in a humourous vein, but it meant all options had been exhausted, and the only recourse was shaving one's head and going down the railroad backwards.

"Your goddamn dinner will be ready in a jiffy."

I turned on the old black and white t.v. to watch "Amos and Andy," as Aunt Mad made us dinner in her quaint, crackerbox kitchen. Country fried steak with Heinz 57, cream style corn, crinkle-cut fries, rolls with the seeds on top drenched in butter and iced tea was the standard fare Monday nite's at Aunt Mad's house. The tv lineup included "The Lucy Show," "Red Skelton," and "Petticoat Junction." Ah, memories. btw, Aunt Mad was a goddamn good cook, as well.

"She ain't here. She's gone to Edowah Diddly."

Prank call. Solicitation. Long lost friend or relative. It didn't matter to Aunt Mad when an unwanted caller tried to ring her house via the telephone.

"Heetomahotomastinkarinkyfarmerdinkysallybunkawinktomanipcatsingsongkittywontchacowmeo."

No one in the family knew what in the hell this phrase meant or whether she invented it or not, but Aunt Mad reached icon status by muttering this sing-song phrase way back inna day.

Aunt Mad was a hoot, an icon, and my Great Aunt. She loved me dearly. And I loved her. Even if she did intimidate with all the "GODDAMNS." Big titties and all. Closet nudist? Maybe in the next installment.

Posted by vietnamcatfish at 12:42 AM 4 comments Links to this post

"Almost Cut My Pear! Er, Hair"

Saturday, August 12, 2006

"Snippets From The Readers"
The Pond gets comments from time to time. Slippery is good for one every now and then. My friend, Marty, who hails from Boca Raton makes his presence felt every fortnight or less. And the hootster, aka hootsbuddy, sends an occassional reply whenever the Pond tickles his fancy. With an obscure relic from back inna day.

And my old classmate from Rowdy High, Steverino, threw in his 2 cents worth a few forays ago. editor's note: Steverino enjoys the moniker inflicted upon him by the writer of G.P. [ yours truly ]

The enigmatic pictru offers his insights on a semi-regular basis. Although I have no clue to his identity-well, once I thought he may be the director/screenwriter of "Godzilla 1985" or the special effects guru, allah Ray Harryhausen, for some cinematic treasures such as "The Thing," the remake from John "Halloween" Carpenter; or "The Fly," another remake from b.i.t.d. "Help me! Help me!" [ words uttered at the end of the original saga by the scientist, who's stuck in a spider web, and whose experiments have gone awry. ]

And then there's Rock Head on loan from Texarkana or as they used to categorize the villanous masked rasslers: from parts unknown. He also leaves a snippet on an irregular schedule.

Sometimes readers fly under the radar screen and send in their comments privately. My recent post entitled "The Last Plantation" brought some interesting mail from two readers, one from my liberal sis who resides in windy San Fran; and Shirley, who lives in Hawaii:

v.c. . . .VERY interesting blog . . .You've GOT to find a way to publish this really odd twist w/the guy who (thankfully!) beat CMcKinney . . .what an embarrassment this kook was to Georgia . . .what an interesting story . . .the way this fellow came all the around that crazy initerstate to help you . . .and how he was REWARDED for this???

I'll listent to the sounds you sent when I get back there and plug in my microphone . . .I've shared your blog with several folks . . .I just LOVE that McKinney section .. .what a crazy lady . . .

shirley

and:

Dear v.c., Ironically Cynthia McKinny has been a hero of mine for several years.
I am sorry she lost! I have a picture of her that I cherish and have seen her several times in San Francisco and Berkeley. Maybe she'll move to Bay Area where she'll be welcome
by most people. She belongs to a group out here called "Sisters of Fire". Olga

Anyone surprised by sis's comments. Two different views. Shirley=crazy lady. Olga, er, Sis=hero of mine.

Well, it just goes to show you, there's divergent opinions out there. Here on the Pond, we appreciate all of the replies, even the far-left ones espoused by my darling sister.

It's what makes the world go 'round, eh? v.c.

P.S. What else stands out here? Well, there were no 78-year-old blue-haired grannies on the list. There were no families traveling with children. There were no young mothers with children in tow. From boortz.com on the ridiculous non-profiling of Middle-East denizens at American airports. All of the London bombing suspects were well, uh, Muslim.

P.S.S. Slippery, how was the CSNY concert? The account I read said a good bit of folks left the arena when the boys broke into "Let's Impeach the President." Btw, did they croon "Almost Cut My [ avocado ] Pear, er, Hair? One of my favorites from CSNY.

Posted by vietnamcatfish at 11:30 AM 1 comments Links to this post

"Rules and Regulations! Who Needs 'Em?"

Vintage footage from '68. When we all began discovering that Ozzie and Harriet and Ward and June et al were fantasy characters.

Hoots, did you attend Chicago circa '68? Or were you sitting at a Woolworth's counter instead?

We can change the world? v.c.

"And That's The Way It Was"

What a week. John Edwards had an affair. What a cretinoid? Look that 1 up in ur Funk and Wagnalls. And now he will be villified by all of the so-called up-right citizenry.

Bernie Mac dead at 50. Pneumonia. Wow!

And Heath Ledger's performance as the Joker lives on in "The Dark Knight."

And the Hootster is writing a letter to MSNBC complaining about corporate greed. Hey, I gave my ex company a recipe which made them millions in sales, and I ain't received a penny yet. Bitter? Mad? Damn tooting I am.

And that's the way it was, 8-8-08. v.c.

P.S. Oh yeah, and the Braves have won 3 games in a row. In Arizona of all places. Can they complete the sweep?

P.S.S. No comments on my last foray. Two girls and a cup. Did anyone watch? Disgusting, eh? The following video is a follow-up. And it is not in good taste. But funny. What can I say?

"Two Girls; One Cup"

This video ain't for the faint of heart. It's bizarre, nasty, and gross with a capital "G." So you have been warned. Proceed with caution. The Kermit the Frog video is his reaction to the video while he's watching.

It's one of those videos that is sweeping the nation ( lol ), and because normal people like you and me are watching, it makes it ok. Kinda like when it suddenly became chic to watch Linda Lovelace in "Deep Throat" at your local theatre.

The Kermit video has over 4 million hits. There are other videos ( via u-tube ) with reactions to what they are viewing.

Remember, you have been warned.

"Skip Caray Dies In His Sleep"

This is a sad story. The Skipster died in his sleep Sunday at his Atlanta home, the Braves announced. He was 68.

A part of me has died, as well. I have known him for over 30 years. Grew up with him.

Tim Tucker has a nice article about the longtime Atlanta Braves announcer:

He made the call when Sid Bream scored on Francisco Cabrera's pinch-hit to win the National League Championship Series for the Braves in 1992: "Here comes Bream! Here's the throw to the plate! He iiiiiiiisssssssss ... safe! Braves win! Braves win! Braves win! Braves win! ... Braves win!"

And he made the call in the late innings of a lousy game in the lost season of 1979: "You have our permission to turn off the TV and go to bed now ... as long as you promise to patronize our sponsors."

Thanks Skip. And say hello to your dad for me, v.c.

"I Built This Garden For Us!"

"Epiphany"

As I sit here imbibing and listening to the Eagles, i.e. "Victim Of Love," I'm having an epiphany. To wit, I gotta get my shit together. Pretty much concise and to the point, eh?

I've never had my shit together-don't see how I'm gonna accomplish said fact at such a late date-but, hey, why not? Eh?

But there's always hope. Lose ur dreams and you will lose your mind-in love unkind so saith the sage aka Aerosmith. Drug addicts who turned the corner. See Steven Tyler for more details. Fuck this keyboard which gets stuck on its long and winding road.

I've got the "Hotel California" cd. Every song is a hit. Fuck! These guys were/are good.

I talked to my youngest son tonight and asked him if he liked the Eagles. His reply to wit:

"Not at all!"

O.K.!

I told him we couldn't be related. Must be the mailman's son. Or the dairy man who left the bottles.

I saw "Batman Begins" 2 night. What a clever and insightful-huh?-movie that one is, as the "n" key sticks for the hundreth time. And it's pissin me off. Big time.

As he rambles on attempting to reach a zenith in imbibedom.

On a non-related thought: Fuck the political parties! Obama Shmama. Kinda trendy to like him. The next JFK? Yeh, right. What a fairy tale. You want realism? Watch "Shark Week" on the Discovery Channel. Now that's real! But putting all ur eggs in Obama's basket is like deluding urself of reality. "Batman Begins" is more believable.

I'm getting bored with my diatribe, so I'm gonna close.

And curse Sir Walter Raleigh-he was such a stupid get, v.c.

"'John Cracks Up, Just Goes Mad' Beatles Talking About Shea Stadium Concert"

This will come as a big suprise, but I am one of the ultimate Beatles fans. I admit it. Even tho' I've been in denial about it.

This is some classic footage. The first really big open air stadium gig. 55,000. 60,000. As George put it: "told me it was 70,000 people."

One concert and what a metaphor. The denizens of the U.S. going crazy over 4 lads from Liverpool. Was the assasination of JFK a factor, as Camelot had come crashing down to Earth a few months prior? I think so!

The video is about the lads singing "I'm Down." As a laughing George can barely play his guitar because of the antics of John. As Ringo put it: "John cracked up, just goes mad...."

This was their appeal. And the music. And the 4 frontmen even tho' at the time George, especially, and Ringo took a back seat.

Yes, I admit to being the number one Beatles fan. Even tho' it was a long time ago, the music stands up today.

We're all alone and there's nobody else; you still moan-keep your hands to yourself, v.c.

"In A New York Minute"

I've been listening to the Eagles lately. I have always loved their music. But here lately I have found some of their songs that I never quite appreciated. Tales they weave have some heavy-duty lyrics; and the melodies make them even better. Fuck!

Harry got up
Dressed all in black
Went down to the station
And he never came back
They found his clothing
Scattered somewhere down the track
And he won't be down on Wall Street
in the morning

He had a home
The love of a girl
But men get lost sometimes
As years unfurl
One day he crossed some line
And he was too much in this world
But I guess it doesn't matter anymore

In a New York Minute
Everything can change
In a New York Minute
Things can get pretty strange
In a New York Minute
Everything can change
In a New York Minute

Lying here in the darkness
I hear the sirens wail
Somebody going to emergency
Somebody's going to jail
If you find somebody to love in this world
You better hand on tooth and nail
The wolf is always at the door

In a New York Minute
Everything can change
In a New York Minute
Things can get a little strange
In a New York Minute
Everything can change
In a New York Minute

And in these days
When darkness falls early
And people rush home
To the ones they love
You better take a fool's advice
And take care of your own
One day they're here;
Next day they're gone

I pulled my coat around my shoulders
And took a walk down through the park
The leaves were falling around me
The groaning city in the gathering dark
On some solitary rock
A desperate lover left his mark,
"Baby, I've changed. Please come back."

What the head makes cloudy
The heart makes very clear
The days were so much brighter
In the time when she was here
But I know there's somebody somewhere
Make these dark clouds disappear
Until that day, I have to believe
I believe, I believe

In a New York Minute
Everything can change
In a New York Minute
You can get out of the rain
In a New York Minute
Everything can change
In a New York Minute

"You Know Yer Getting Old When...."

I was at work today and a Billy Joel tune was playing on the muzac. I asked one of the young girls who works with me if she knew the song?


I said, "That's a Billy Joel tune."

She said, "I don't know who that is."

Another sign that I am getting old; and that my music from yesteryear is slowly fadin' away.

And at one time B.J. was one of the hottest acts in show biz.

What a drag it iz getting old, v.c.

"Golden Slumbers"

Another brilliant adaptation from Paul McCartney. I will say no more.

"Why Dont We Do It In The Road"

A bizarre tune from the Fab 4. Courtesy of the "White Album." When the l.p. came out I was like a kid in a candy shop. It was a double album and was a cornucopia of sounds. Divergent ones at that. Tunes from the usual suspects and George had more than his fair share. Probably my most favorite Fab 4 production.

The question begs, however: "Do what in the road?"



Speaking of George's contribution. Here's 1 from him which was misinterpreted by Charles Manson allah "Helter Skelter." i was likea kid in the candy shop. Just damn!

 

"I Just Busted a Button on me Trousers-Hope They Don't Fall Down"

The above photo is from "Sticky Fingers." Designed by tomato can guru, Andy Warhol. The zipper, which is located directly next to the large zucchinni, was fully functional. Not sure about the squash but Y knot? Batteries not included and don't try this at home, et al.

Some really good tunes from this one.

We never said trousers-we said pants. Must be a cultural thing, and why we dug the acts from across the sea.

I know I dug what was popularly called the "British Invasion." Most have fallen by the wayside, but the Stones remain. Longevity, eh? Just like the zucchinni.

What a drag it is getting old, v.c.

P.S. From "Mothers Little Helper" courtesy of u no hoo.

P.S.S. The following is my favorite Stones song. When I was pecking the keys on the Yahoo message boards, the tune gave me, er, inspiration.

"Without Love-Where Would U B Now?"

This is a great song from-where else-yesteryear. It's 'bout a bunch of railway trains-go figga. But it's got a catchy melody to say the least and the sax man can really blow.

From my favorite channel- U Tube!

W/o love where would u b now, v.c.

"Shoo Bee Doo Wop"

I'm on my Fabulous 4 kick again. This song is forkin' awesome, and it is done live with overdubs , of course, but it's one of the heaviest songs ever.

Written by John Lennon, who wanted to clarify the group's position on the changing world. Circa the "Flower Power Era." When bombs and napalm and civil unrest were exploding all over da world.

I could be wrong-won't be the first time and certainly not the last-but methinks the video debuted on the old "Smothas ( Smothers ) Brothas Show."

It's one of me favorite songs from the Fab 4. If you've never seen it, here it is for your viewing pleasure. Unfortunately, the person who posted it has "embedding disabled by request" so....

We'd all love to see the plan, v.c.

P.S. The Stone Temple Pilots covered it back in '01 for a John Lennon tribute. Included here as well.

"Just Discovered This on Utube!"

Ain't utube grand? To coin a phrase, eh? This is some classic shit from yesteryear. Pardon my french, s'il vous plait.

"Live in Toronto" 1970. Eric Clapton, Klaus Voorman, and John and Yoko.

I had this l.p. but don't think u can even buy it anymore.

"My Generation"

It's 4:12 in the morning and I ain't sleepy. I just worked an arduous 10 hour shift in the food biz, so I should be exhausted and ready for beddy-bye. For some unknown reason, I am writing this tale whilst munching on fresh cherries from the Piggly Wiggly.

I am also perusing videos via utube. Whoever invented this phenomena should be rewarded handsomely cos it's the coolest thing since VHS and cd's. And bvd's, er,-that,too-dvd's. Here's one from "bitd" that's an excellent one.



It reminds me of Kent State-4 dead in Ohio-; Vietnam-the Tet Offensive; and my arrival into adulthood from teenagerdumb, er, teenagerdom.

I was getting a haircut the other day and had on my Paul Mac t shirt. The barber, a young lad in his 20's, told me how he dug Paul Mac and away we went.

I told him I had seen Sir Paul and had the honor and privilege of being on row 6 right in front of the stage. Circa 1991. How I had seen the Fab 4 in '65.

I told him-when he mentioned Steppenwolf-that I had seen them a couple of times. I didn't mention seeing an old friend-Randy Foster-who was in attendance at one of the shows and who was high on animal tranquilizer. Was our generation that forked up that we resorted to insane shit like that?

I told my barber that the "heavy metal" genre came from the song, er, "Born to be Wild."

I like smoking lightning;
Heavy metal thunder.

( For the uninformed )

He was impressed when I told him I had seen Rod Stewart and Faces in concert. But not the Vanilla Fudge, who he had no inkling as to who or what this was.

ZZ Top; Marshall Tucker Band-the loudest concert I have ever been to. I like loud music, but my gawd. The decibles these dudes generated was akin to a nuclear bomb exploding. Can't you see-yes, but now I can't hear-what that woman's been doing to me.

I told him I had seen George Harrison, but can't remember telling him I was so stoned and drunk that I, yes, yours truly, passed out and missed the end of the concert.

As he snipped and clipped, I regaled in stories of yesteryear. My exploits, if you will. I did forget to tell him that v.c. had seen Neil Young a few times. But it can wait till my next date with him-only your hairdresser knows for sure, eh?

Pecking away I am beginning to get sleepy. The ten hour shifts-which ravage my body-are finally kicking in.

See me, feel me, hear me, v.c.

P.S. Went to the Piggle Wiggly later, and the two checkout girls went ga ga over the shirt.

"My favorite Fab 4 album is 'The White Album,'" she said.

"Mine, too," I said.

"My favorite song is Julia. And that's my name."

"I'm v.c. and do you ( know you're talking to Mr. Trivia )? Do you know who 'Julia" was?"

"No."

"John Lennon's mother. And 'ocean child calls me' was Yoko Ono."

"I love your t shirt."

"Yeah, thanks."

And like this foray: bye bye.

standard 12 bar blues but FUC*** AMAZING solo @ 2:48!!!

One of my fav tunes from Chicago when they were Chicago Transit Authority. From utube of course.

P.S. The title of 2 nite's foray into the infantile is a direct comment off utube. Go figga, mon trigga.

"Take Care, George"

 

"George Carlin-Dead at 71"

George Carlin died-I guess a few minutes ago-today. He was 71.

I didn't like him in the 70's but grew to love him afterwards. Comedians have a natural way of picking up on human foibles ( how 'bout that for the word of the day ).

Part of his charm was contorting his face. The last show I saw of him was not too long ago on HBO. He was 70 or 71 and had gone the way of an old fart. He just didn't have the pizazz or energy anymore, but he was still good for a septegenarian or whatever they call a person in his/her seventies.

I'll miss the forker. And watch some of his old shows. The older one gets the more the stars and celebrities of yesteryear get hooked by the Grim Reaper. Inevitable, eh?

So I salute you, George. And hope you're in a better place. Hopefully Heaven. Take it ez, you once old fart of 71, v.c.

"Another 'Who'd a Thunk It?'"

A Virginia man lost 80 lbs. eating at Mickey D's.

Another in a long series of "Who'd a Thunk It?"

Oxymoron, eh? v.c.

P.S. To regale the moment, here is one of Kitty's fav songs from back in the day.

P.S.S. The song reminds me of playing Pac Man ( my fav ); Donkey Kong; Space Invaders; and the like. Woca woca.

 

"Bogie and Ilsa"

They don't make 'em like this anymore. The movies today-for the most part-suck. Talking about the last few years. Not anything around that gets me excited. The Hulk? Naw. I've seen the previews. Too much computer generated b.s. Indiana Jones?-well maybe.

Speaking of old skool. Here's a tune from yesteryear. And one of my favorites from "The Eagles." It is not "Hotel California," not "Dem, er, Dos Shoes," nor is it "Victim of Luv," nor "Take it Ez."

What is it then? The answer lies below.

Selah, v.c.

Thursday, July 27, 2006- 10,000 and Counting

My blog was heading towards 10,000 hits on July 27, 06. I forget what happened, but I soon lost my counter. And kept writing without one. But G.P. did make the 10,000 mark at some point-a paltry sum when compared to the hootster. So my new counter-stage left-is inaccurate. Just for the record....eh?

Thursday, July 27, 2006
"Man of A [Ten]Thousand Faces"or "When Will v.c. [ yours truly ] Hit The Magic Number? Query Submitted by the Lone Stranger [ Pictruandtru ]


Apologies to Lon "Werewolf" Chaney!

It has been well-chronicled throughout the ages how yours truly has no earthly idea who in the H.ell [ W.hole ] is pictruandtru. He and I or me and him go way back, yet he remains an enigma.

My other friend, who goes by the unlikely name of hootsbuddy, is known to me, and he is the scoundrel who turned me on to blogorama.

"Cat, [ yours truly ] this blogging business is liberating. You can write about anything and everything; there are no restrictions to content," he wrote and /or told me one fateful day circa 2004.

And the rest is history. Thanks to the hootster [ affectionate nickname coined by....yers truly ] Golden Pond became my embryonic initiation into blogdom. And so far the results have been less than overwhelming. My poor l'il blog is on target to reach a meager 10,000 hits in the next few weeks, while the hootster is about to hit 40,000. ( editor's note: Perhaps he already has. As of this writing, who the fork knows? )

So in reply to me buddy's query,[ ergo, pictruandtru ] G.P. has 9800 and change hits. But if you want to make me feel better about all this, start hitting away. Let's get v.c.'s G.P., his labour of love, up to 10,000. Soon! Or with a quickness as we used to lament at Rowdy High, circa back in the day.

Parting is such sweet sorrow, v.c.

P.S. I recently received this nice comment from one of my readers via e mail. It read:

You are CLASSIC, v.c. . . .what a mind. . .I hope someone "discovers" you . . .as you're the most original person I've ever read . . .WOW! signed Shirley. Location: Beautiful Hawaii!

P.S.S. Yes, it is well-chronicled how I am a legend in my own mind. Alas, to be or not to be-that is the question! Apologies to the Bard!

December 26, 2004

Sunday, December 26, 2004

Acid Reflux Rears Its Ugly Head
Acid reflux is the scourge of the new millineum. Maybe it's the jalapenos, the pizzas, the spicy cajun dishes, the enchiladas, the refried beans that we, as Americans, tend to overindulge in. Everyone I know has the dreaded disease. And it doesn't matter if you're a member of a red state, blue state, zombie state, or state your name, either someone in your family now has acid reflux or will one day be afflicted.

Even celebrities are not immune to acid reflux. Their millions- Shirley, in Swiss bank accounts- will only help to make them comfortable when the dreaded A.R. knocks on their door.

Take Ashlee Simpson, for example, newcomer to the music scene, who fled Saturday Night Live's stage Oct. 24 after a prerecorded vocal track began playing while she wasn't holding up a microphone. Simpson blamed the incident on a bout with acid reflux: "It was something I had never done and I didn't want to do," she told PEOPLE of lip-synching. "(But) my voice wasn't strong enough."

And even Paris Hilton, sexy starlet, has known the wrath of A.R. Her X-rated sex tape "One Night in Paris" hit video stores earlier this year. To promote her new project, Paris was recently photographed lacking certain undergarments. Another victim of A.R.

Brittney Spears marriage to hometown pal, Jason Alexander, lasted 55 hours. Yes, one of the parties had A.R., causing a hasty annulment to wedded bliss.

What was Anna Nicole Smith's excuse for slurring her words, stumbling offstage and generally being loopy at the Nov. 14 American Music Awards? If you guessed A.R., you are one who catches on quickly. Intelligence is your forte, and you may want to consider joining the elite organization known as Mensa. A rep for Ms. Smith, 37, who was boasting a newly svelte figure, denied rumors that drugs or alcohol were to blame. Not wanting to cite the true reason.

And moving forward, two months after she was released from prison, Mary Kay Letourneau was planning a walk down the aisle – with the former student she was convicted of raping more than seven years ago. Letourneau, who's 42, announced her engagement to Vili Fualaau on Larry King Live on Oct. 11. The ex-schoolteacher, who first had sex with Fualaau eight years ago when he was 13 and has two children by him, said she's been "blessed" and shares "a deep spiritual oneness" with him. During her prison stay, Ms. Letourneau contracted A.R. It is not known at this time if Vili has been affected or even knows of his wife's malady.

And pop stars: Elton John unleashed his inner diva in September, calling the Taiwanese media "rude, vile pigs" after photographers greeted him at the Taipei airport with a wall of flashbulbs. The following month, John directed his ire at Madonna. At London's Q Awards, the singer accused Madge of lip-synching on her Re-Invention tour. "Anyone who lip-synchs in public onstage when you pay 75 pounds ($134) to see them should be shot," he said. Madonna's spokeswoman denied the allegation saying "I heard Elton has A.R. I hope he seeks treatment."

And in sports: The sports world took a beating in November when it was revealed that the New York Yankees' $120 million-earning first baseman Jason Giambi (right) had admitted to using antacids for at least three seasons. The revelation came out of a federal investigation of the Bay Area Laboratory Co-Operative (BALCO), and included doping accusations against San Francisco Giants slugger Barry Bonds (who says his drug use was unwitting) and five-time Olympic track medalist Marion Jones (who denied using illegal performance-enhancing drugs.
Maalox and Pepto-Abysmal are reportedly seeking legal action against the three.

Yes, acid reflux knows no boundaries. Rock stars, sports heroes, cause celebre's, and even movie stars have fallen victim. Even ordinary citizens like you and me. It has reached epidemic proportions. A.R., the scourge of the new millineum.

Farewell and adieu, v.c.

P.S. Hopefully, you, the readers will never know the heartbreak of psoriasis, er, acid reflux.



Posted by vietnamcatfish at 11:14 PM 2 comments Links to this post

"Acid Reflux Rears Its Ugly Head"
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Anonymous said...
Yukity, yuk, yuk, yuk, Acid Reflux. Good journalism there CatMan. I see your counter tipped 1000. Congratulations!

You know your a fisherman when;
You call your boat Bonnie and you call your wife Skeeter.

6:17 PM


Hoots said...
Ditto, here.
Ready for this? Our new grandchild, born in October, was out of sorts and wouldn't eat. His mom took him to the doc. The nurse practicioner diagnosed the problem: reflux!
He had a bunch of regularly scheduled immunizations and is all better now. Go figure.

5:04 AM

P.S.

"More From the Exciting World of Foodbizdom And The World In Which We, Er, Live"

INQUIRE AT RESTAURANTS

Ketchup and cooked sauces are not affected by the outbreak. And several restaurants are not serving tomatoes — on Monday, McDonald's said it had stopped serving sliced tomatoes in its U.S. restaurants.

As most of you know:

A salmonella outbreak linked to raw tomatoes serves as a reminder to take extra care with summer fruits and vegetables.

My favorite line from the article:

Wash your hands with soap and water thoroughly before handling food, says Blakeslee. Wash your hands if you come in contact with pet feces, use the bathroom or change a baby's diaper.

I would never have thought to wash my hands after changing a baby's diaper, so yours truly is passing it on in hopes of saving you and your loved ones from a heartbreak of foodborne illness or the like.

You say tomato and I say tomahto, v.c.

"Synchronicity"

Up at the top of [ one's ] blog is a search engine and search I did for "synchronicity" on my blog, aka Golden Pond. And found this delightful piece from yesteryear. May 14, 2006 to be exact. It was only two years ago and counting, but it seems like a million years to me. Here it is:

The catfish ( yours truly ) has been in a slump, if you will. Hits to the web site have been few and far between. And I can understand why. It doesn't take an Einstein to figure out the reason for the malaise.

Point blank. The views and opinions espoused on "Golden Pond" do not reflect the consensus of the general populace. Most denizens of the world could give a fork if George "Superman" Reeves killed himself or not; it was only 40 some odd years ago. Ancient history. Kaput, fini.' [ to coin a phrase )

And most readers of blogs could give a rat's ass when it comes to listening to a few songs from the fabulous 4. It was almost 40 years ago when the band decided they had had enough and decided to call it quits.

And most folks have no fond recollections when it comes to film noirs from the 50's. 50 years ago and counting. What synchronicity, eh? No one remembers "The Leech Woman" or "Homicidal," which both scared the beezeesus out of me back in the day.

So it stands to reason that "Golden Pond" has limits. But to those who meander this way I owe a debt of gratitude. Thanks for your support and patronage.

Farewell and adieu, v.c.

P.S. In the following video [ ain't youtube grand? ] William Castle advises audience members they could leave the theater and receive a full refund if they were too frightened to see the climax of the ending.

"Dear Cat" and "The Empire Strikes Back"

Okay, so you want to write a blog, eh? Well everybody and his mom wants to write one, too. And every day a zillion more people begin a labor of love. Well ain't that a hoot? So you start your little blog, and before you know it, some dickhead is writing you with what they think is constructive criticism. Constructive, my ass. I delete the negative ones the minute I receive them, so you, the reader, won't have to contend with the negativity, which would certainly impact your day. Because there has been a steady stream of dickheads writing to me lately, I would like to share their slanderous/libelous thoughts with you, the viewing public, so you can see what a blog writer has to condend with on a daily basis. Altho quite perverted and mean-spirited [ except for the last one, which is my favorite ] they are being revealed for the first time "On Golden Pond" and are submitted for your perusal and approval:

Dear Cat, I really enjoy reading your dysfunctional column. Honestly, I think it's a bunch of doq squeeze. No one is interested in old movies, old rock bands whose stars are now in their sixties and can't get it up without prescription drugs, and silly stories, which I believe you refer to as "forays into the infantile." How cute! Why don't you grow up and get a life? And quit wasting our time with "Golden Pond." Here's hoping the Producers of said flick, or my heroine, Jane Fonda, will sue the shit out of you. There are plagiarism laws you know. Signed: Norman Thayer

Dear Cat, I thought you said you were an independent in your profile stage right. But your blog is far to the right in my veritable opinion. Those pictures you reprinted the other day [ Fark.com ] made fun of the next President of the U.S., Ms. Hillary Clinton. How dare you poke fun at her. She is definitely the best candidate for 2008. And wouldn't it be great if she chose John Kerry for a running mate? Signed: Alas, Not a Heinz Ketchup Fortunate Son

Dear Cat: Pure drivel. My five year old can write better. Even his pet Iguana could compose more eloquent prose just by dropping Dino on the typewriter keys. Pure hogwash. If you're not too old-and methinks you are even tho' it's unclear with your childish prattle-why don't you take a few writing courses, so the drivel you produce would be a bit more intelligible? And don't get me started on your grammar, syntax, and style. Hemmingway you ain't. Signed: Your English Lit Teacher Circa 1971

Dear Cat: If you were working for me, I would have fired your sorry ass long before now. Just like that fine eating establishment known as Piccadilly Cafeteria, where "the dilly is back," which canned you cos you weren't cuttin' the mustard. So you gave thirty years of your worthless life to that grand organization. What'd you want? A medal? It makes me ill when Corporate America gets bad press just because they let go of the dead weight. It's the market place, stupid. The company must cut back to survive and to put more money in the pockets of the CEO, so he/she/it can have a nice retirement fund when he/sheit retires. Boo hoo! Do you think you're the first person who ever got fired? Signed: Trump

P.S. If you introduced carrot souffle to cafeteriadom, as you claim, then I'm "The Donald."

Dear Cat: I enjoy old movies just like you do. And my favorite band of all time is "The Beatles." I saw them live circa 1965. My wife's name is Kitty. And my kids are named Catlain and Charlie. We have two pets, a dog and a cat. Penny Lane and Neil Diamond, respectively. And I went to "Rowdy High School" and attended "Truck U. University" back in the day, same as you. I love urban slang and synchronicity. Shawl is. I saw "The Vanilla Fudge" at the City Auditorium back in the 60's, and I loved going to the Central Adult Theatre to further my fledgling career in the cinema. I didn't really care that the actresses were nude and showed their boobs and sometimes a wisp of pubic hair. It was all about the art and honing my craft. I also think you have the best blog in the Universe; it even outdistances hootsbuddy's place by a pubic hair, er, by a nose hair. I live on Pon Jovi and love every "foray into the infantile" you've ever concocted. Signed: Dirty Harry

P.S. I disagree with that dickhead professor of yours [ circa 1971 ]who gave you a bad mark in Lit 102. You are better than Hemmingway, Dante, Fitzgerald, Dickens combined. Can't wait for the next foray

P.S. This column was written in 2006 and is a response to anonymous' reply to my last foray entitled "1985." Yes, when the Bard, er, Borde became the CEO, all joy in Mudville soon dissipated. Does anyone know what the boy is doing now, he of the glazed eyes.

P.S.S. And who was the mystery challenger who signed in? Anonymously!

"1985"

As a teenager I had to read "1984" by George Orwell. Good stuff. The denizens of the said novel were taking all kinds of pills-or maybe that was "Brave New World." And I read "Lord of the Flies;" and "Animal Farm." Damn, I forgot that yours truly read so many of the classics.

No wonder my mind was confused as a pubescent denizen of this world. These books were heavy-duty. And at the time seemed like pure fantasy. I read "The Caine Mutiny," too, by Herman Wouk. One of my favorites. And the movie was well-done, as well, with Humphrey Bogart as Captain Queeg, the war-weary veteran who buckles under the stresses of command.

Bogie was good in just about every thing he's ever done. He was short-not the "leading man" type-but he had something. Charisma? Tough guy? And the dames loved him.

What got me on this subject was popping in the olde "homemade" c.d. ( made a coppola moons ago ) courtesy of "Ares," on my way home from the job this a.m.. "1985" from Macca was one of the selections and one of me all time favs. ( saying fav is akin to saying "spot on." I must repeat-unequivocably-that I will never say "spot on" for love or money. It is what it is!" And I did hear some sports announcer say it on the telly recently, and I wanted to barf and/or hurl. )

And I got to thinking that it was clever of the songwriter to pen a tune about Orwell's 1984. A year later.

No One Left Alive In 1985, Will Ever Do
She May Be Right
She May Be Fine
She May Get Love But She Won't Get Mine
'Cos I Got You.

Most people-I would dare say-have never read the classics. Not that that's a bad thing. It's probably a good thing. And people still talk like dumb asses. And use double negatives. My sister is a good example of this. She uses them frequently. It's ok by me if people use them, but to me it generates a red flag that maybe you ain't as smart as you think you are.

For the most part, I think we're all kind of dumb-yes, even Mr. Somewhat Grammar ( yours truly ) heads the list. In fact, the poster boy of dumb if you will.

So what's the point of this foray? Hell if I know.

I enjoyed listening to my "homemade c.d." There were tunes from "Foreigner;" the "Rolling Stones;" Neil Young;" even Babs Streisand. Who'd a thunk it? And believe it or not-no Fab 4 tunes.

The foray ends, v.c.

P.S. I Didn't Think I Never Dreamed
That I Would Be Around To See It All Come True
Woh I Oh I
Well I Just Can't Get Enough Of That Sweet Stuff
My little lady gets behind!

"No Words"

I guess this columnist should write something about history being made, via the Barrack Obama freight train, but this aforementioned columnist will leave it to others. Those of us who grew up in the 50's and 60's can realize the significance more than the generation x'ers and the rest.

But be it as it may, I head back to the 70's and a song from Paul MAC and Wings. When he and Linda and Denny Laine went to Lagos, Nigeria to record a new l.p. [ long-playing ] which resulted in "Band on the Run."

Critically acclaimed when it was released, and hailed as an album worthy of an ex-Beatle. Up unto that point, Paul had disappointed the world with subpar efforts. Not me, of course, but maybe a tad.

I perused youtube this week and found an obscure tune from B.O.T.R. I was humming it all day at work. Ah, memories. Hadn't heard the tune in years.

So without further adieu, here it is.

And who will win the upcoming election? Only the Shadow knows, and he ain't saying.

History in the making, v.c.

P.S. Interesting backdrop to the recording:

While there, both the McCartneys were mugged at knifepoint, were accosted in the studio by legendary musician Fela Kuti for fear that Paul was plagiarizing African music (fears which McCartney quickly assuaged by playing Kuti the recorded music), and were persuaded to record at Ginger Baker's studio in Lagos (where he lived at the time) by Baker himself once he heard that the McCartneys were in town. During this time, only the recording of the ensuing album's backing tracks, which generally featured Paul on lead guitar, keyboards, synthesizers, bass and drums and Denny on rhythm guitar, keyboards and bass, took place, as Emerick came to realize that EMI Lagos lacked such basic features as high-end vocal microphones.

"Pretty Clever"

 

"Swimmingly" and "Nude Swimming Scene"

Well, I went to the gym today. For the first time. I signed up back in the chilly days of January. All set to shed some lbs. and to get stronger. Lucy, what happened?

Exactly. My mom took a spill in a gopher hole and my life hasn't been the same since.

You got to get back in the fray some time, so today was it.

I stumbled into the front door and flashed my coded card to a machine which authenticated my membership. I told the two young femmes I was here for the first time and could they point me in the direction of the jacuzzi.

I headed to the locker room, donned my bathing suit, and waded into the bubbling water. It was warm and toasty. The Olympic pool was in close proximity and soon I was splashing about allah Johnny Weismuller in "Tarzan Conquers Africa and Later Cleveland, Ohio."

I swam underwater; on my back; and even the normal style, making each lap in about 40 seconds. Not bad for an old guy. It only takes 35.5 laps to do a mile. It reminded me of my final exam in swimming at Rowdy University. Navigate a mile free-style and you pass the course. I have never been so exhausted in all my life. It ain't no joke.

I only managed 5 or six laps this time and reverted-quickly-to the jacuzzi. Noticing the ominous warnings-posted on the wall-about dizziness, pregnant women, older persons, fainting- I decided to extricate myself and head home.

When leaving, the young femmes asked "how did it go?"

I recounted the jacuzzi visit and the pool and told them I hadn't swam in a while, and I was exhausted.

"That's good," they said nodding their heads.

Saying goodbye I wondered if I should have replied: "I haven't swum in a while. so I'm exhausted."

I'm still thinking "swim, swam, swum" as I walk out to the Ford Pinto.

Then reality kicks in. Who in their right mind has ever used the word "swum" in a normal conversation? Not sure I ever have.

Swimmingly, and perhaps fittingly, this foray will end.

"Swim, swam, swum."

I swim; you swam; I have swum.

Do they even teach this stuff today?

Swum, v.c.

P.S. Pretty racy for 1934. See video below.

"Remember....the 5th of November"

"American Idol Winner"

Well, the voting is dunn ( and Bradstreet ), and the American Idol winner is the rocker named David, not the crooner with the same first name.

What an upset, eh? And I was so enthralled in the festivities-not-that I forgot all about it. If it hadn't been for Ernie, Reggie, Kenny, and Chuck talking about it after the NBA Western Conference Series, I would not be writing this column.

And speaking of the Chuckster ( Charles Barkely ) seems he paid his $400,000 gambling debt to the Las Vegas casino. He has said he will quit gambling....for now, that is.

Michael Jordan had issues with gambling; even Desi Arnez; and then there's Pete Rose and Art Schlicter.

A quick farewell and skidoo, v.c.

P.S. You got to know when to hold 'em....

"Phi Zappa Krappa"

Hello Rock-and "rock on, Lubys." Yes, the infamous Zappa Krappa still.

If you peruse my popular pages-an oxymoron at best-you will find Krappa tops the list.

Wonder if you take a crappa in Heaven?

Here's the list:

19 GOLDEN POND: "Phi Zappa Krappa"
19 GOLDEN POND: 02/01/2006 - 03/01/2006
18 GOLDEN POND: "77 Sunset Strip"
10 GOLDEN POND: Big-Ass Storm-Response to clifhenry
9 GOLDEN POND: "Lee Strasberg School of Acting"
7 GOLDEN POND: "Post Secret Blog"
6 GOLDEN POND: "Mystery Guest: Sign in, Please!"
5 GOLDEN POND: "Sample and Hold"
5 GOLDEN POND: "First Super Bowl Hero Max McGhee Dies After Falling Off The Roof Of His House"
5 GOLDEN POND: 08/01/2005 - 09/01/2005
5 GOLDEN POND: "Johnny Got His Gun"
5 GOLDEN POND: "Pet Sounds"
4 GOLDEN POND: 06/01/2005 - 07/01/2005
4 GOLDEN POND: "Coach Goes Ballistic" and "I'm Forty-Come After Me!"
3 GOLDEN POND: "Twelve Angry Men"
3 GOLDEN POND: "House on Haunted Hill"
3 GOLDEN POND: "Flesh Gordon"
3 GOLDEN POND: "I Married a Democrat from Outer Space"

"Family Affair"

My mom is now in rehab. And is doing good except for her cough. Methinks she may have gotten it from me. As mentioned earlier, I had been stricken with a form of the Hong-Kong flu and felt like shit. It lasted for a couple of weeks, and yet, as usual, I never missed work trudging through it all.

Did anyone give a shit that I worked while sick? A resounding "Hell no!" Most didn't know I was sick. Only a cough and my eyes betrayed me.

Mom is back to her anal self, so that's a good sign.

"Is this the nightgown you wanted?" I asked.

"No, I wanted the frilly-dilly-willy one. You got the shrilly-nilly-silly one!"

"I will take this one back and try again."

"I think my son is color-blind," she said somewhat rhetorically.

Oh, well. It's as Roseanne Rosanadanna used to lament: "It's always something!"

Gimme shelter, v.c.

"New Bedtime Story"

"Tell us a bed-time story, gramps."

"Now, wait a minute. I have told you rowdy grandkids never to call me gramps. You know I prefer to be called grandfather vee."

"Sorry, gram..., er, grandfathger vee. Tell us a story, puhleeze. Yeh, one about the food biz."

"Now don't get me started. If there's any thing your grandfather vee hates is any mention of that term."

"Why is that?"

"It exploits the working class and serves crappy food."

"What does exploit mean?"

"It means you pay people a low salary, and they can never pull themselves up by the boot straps."

"But ain't, er, it's not their fault, is it? Don't people have choices in their lives, and don't they screw up and make some really bad decisions?"

"Ok. Who switched my 6 year old grand kids? Who are you kids? Aliens?"

"We're not aliens from another planet-not even extraterrestial carrots-; we've just been watching the Democratic debates between Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton."

"That reminds your grandfather vee. Where in the hell is my check?

"What check, granm..., er, grandfather vee?"

"My economic stimulant recovery check. I wonder if I'll get $600 or the minimum, $300."

"What kind of check is that?"

"With fuel costs spiraling out of control and the economy heading for a recession, the powers-that-be decided to give everyone in the good old U.S. of A. a bit of chump change, er, cash to go out and spend. In hopes of revving up the economy."

"What are you gonna do with the money? Will you take us to 6 Flags or Disney World?"

"With gas heading to $4.00 a gallon, we better stay home. And play games like Monopoly, Spades, or Charades."

"We wanta go to Disney World. We've never heard of those games, anyhoo. Subversive they sound. Yes, they do."

"Look, when I was your age, we didn't have computers and theme parks and video games. And, believe it or not, gas was only 25 cents a gallon. Even cigarettes. Even a quart of oil."

"Huh? What happened to our grandfather? An alien has abducted his body allah invasion of the body snatchers. He's talking nonsense, this alien abductor is."

"Now, kids, it's still your grandfather vee. It's hard to believe, but it's true. Yep. And cokes were a nickel. And candy bars. too. Except, of course, a 'Chunky' was 10 cents. Must have been the nuts and raisins that made it cost so much. And it wasn't even that big."

"Are you pulling our leg? Yes, that's it. Petrol was never less than $2 per gallon."

"Kids, I have warned you for the last time. No more Hillary-Barama debates for you. You will listen to your fairy tales from me only."

"We're getting sleepy, grandfather vee."

"Close those little eyes, you rowdy kids. Tomorrow I'll take you to Mickey D's and get you all a happy meal."

"Imagine gas for only a quarter. What a jokester, our grandfather vee! Yawn. And candy for a nickel? Who'd a thunk it? Yawn...."