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.
Monday, June 23, 2008
"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.
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.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
"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.
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.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
"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.
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.
Monday, June 16, 2008
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!
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"
2 Comments - Show Original Post
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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.
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"
2 Comments - Show Original Post
Collapse comments
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.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
"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.
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.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
"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.
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.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
"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!
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!
Saturday, June 07, 2008
"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 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!
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
"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.
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.
Friday, May 30, 2008
"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.
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.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
"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....
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....
Sunday, May 18, 2008
"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"
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"
Saturday, May 17, 2008
"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.
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.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
"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...."
"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...."
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
"Homecoming Week"
I recently received this reply from an old buddy of mine. From back in the days of one Piccadilly Cafeteria-may it rest in piece, er, pieces, er, peace.
I just happened to peruse my old posts tonight-so forgive me for the late response-and came across this interesting tidbit from clifhenry:
are you f-----g crazy? revolver? pet sounds? where's your tony orlando? Where's your annette funicello? (remember tall paul? that's rock and roll, my katrina-whacked friend.) and never mind lesley gore, who was so bouncy she brought tears to the eyes of strong dudes, and may have been involved in helping her brother, al, in pioneering the internet.
you disappoint me.
clifhenry
5:40 PM
Yes, I recall those halcyon days of Leslie Gore-"it's my party and I'll cry if I want to. And playing the popular "spin the bottle" with dames at 12 years of age. Annette on "Mickey Mouse Club" and surfing with the gang via "Beach Blanket Bingo." I liked "Katrina-whacked friend." Shows alotta ingenuity and brilliance for coining a phrase. But Tony Orlando and Dawn-now that is disappointment with a capital "D." And whatever happened to Engelbert Humperdink?
Good to hear from the clifster. Via Sacramento.
P.S. You would cry, too, if it happened to you.
I just happened to peruse my old posts tonight-so forgive me for the late response-and came across this interesting tidbit from clifhenry:
are you f-----g crazy? revolver? pet sounds? where's your tony orlando? Where's your annette funicello? (remember tall paul? that's rock and roll, my katrina-whacked friend.) and never mind lesley gore, who was so bouncy she brought tears to the eyes of strong dudes, and may have been involved in helping her brother, al, in pioneering the internet.
you disappoint me.
clifhenry
5:40 PM
Yes, I recall those halcyon days of Leslie Gore-"it's my party and I'll cry if I want to. And playing the popular "spin the bottle" with dames at 12 years of age. Annette on "Mickey Mouse Club" and surfing with the gang via "Beach Blanket Bingo." I liked "Katrina-whacked friend." Shows alotta ingenuity and brilliance for coining a phrase. But Tony Orlando and Dawn-now that is disappointment with a capital "D." And whatever happened to Engelbert Humperdink?
Good to hear from the clifster. Via Sacramento.
P.S. You would cry, too, if it happened to you.
"The Return of the Catfish"
"House on Haunted Hill" was my last foray. April 20th. And today is May 6th. I haven't gone this long without posting in many moons. I was prepared to write something yesterday, but life keeps getting in the way.
Yes, I admit to being in somewhat of a malaise. I have had the "Hong Kong" flu or some derivative for the last week or so; plus, me mom has been in the hospital for over two weeks. Her gall bladder exploded and required immediate surgery. At age 82, as we all know, this procedure carries big-time risks.
She's been a champion through it all. Her latest setback was having blood clots in her arthritic legs. As Ernie Johnson, long-time Atlanta Braves announcer-since retired-once coined the phrase: "getting old ain't for sissies."
My sis and niece flew in from the Frisco Bay ( shades of Otis Redding ), and my other niece, who lives in the conservative hamlet know as Orange County, flew the friendly skies, as well.
As they were staying at my mom's house, a pipe burst spilling raw sewage into the basement. Twenty five hundred dollars later-and thank gawd I didn't have to get into that mess-the problem was solved. The company that my sis dispatched wore space suits while slurping up the goo. Times have changed, eh? Hell, I would have cleaned it up for half that amount. Or done it for nothing. I'm sure I cleaned up worse at H.W. [ Hell-Whole ], my old employment venue.
So it's been kinda topsy-turvey in the life of the Catfish, aka yours truly. And thanks for inquiring, Rock. I haven't heard from you since Tony Romo did the el foldo, and the N.Y. Giants won the Super Bowl. And what about the Tuna spurning Atlanta for sunny Miama Beach?
As Conrad Birdie once said: "Life's a ball if only you know it."
And I must say: "Time flies when yer havin' fun.
Gimme shelter, v.c.
P.S. Dark Side of the Moon," eh? Wish I could have been there....in attendance. Reminds me of an old Yahoo post of mine: "Dark Side of the Boon!"
Yes, I admit to being in somewhat of a malaise. I have had the "Hong Kong" flu or some derivative for the last week or so; plus, me mom has been in the hospital for over two weeks. Her gall bladder exploded and required immediate surgery. At age 82, as we all know, this procedure carries big-time risks.
She's been a champion through it all. Her latest setback was having blood clots in her arthritic legs. As Ernie Johnson, long-time Atlanta Braves announcer-since retired-once coined the phrase: "getting old ain't for sissies."
My sis and niece flew in from the Frisco Bay ( shades of Otis Redding ), and my other niece, who lives in the conservative hamlet know as Orange County, flew the friendly skies, as well.
As they were staying at my mom's house, a pipe burst spilling raw sewage into the basement. Twenty five hundred dollars later-and thank gawd I didn't have to get into that mess-the problem was solved. The company that my sis dispatched wore space suits while slurping up the goo. Times have changed, eh? Hell, I would have cleaned it up for half that amount. Or done it for nothing. I'm sure I cleaned up worse at H.W. [ Hell-Whole ], my old employment venue.
So it's been kinda topsy-turvey in the life of the Catfish, aka yours truly. And thanks for inquiring, Rock. I haven't heard from you since Tony Romo did the el foldo, and the N.Y. Giants won the Super Bowl. And what about the Tuna spurning Atlanta for sunny Miama Beach?
As Conrad Birdie once said: "Life's a ball if only you know it."
And I must say: "Time flies when yer havin' fun.
Gimme shelter, v.c.
P.S. Dark Side of the Moon," eh? Wish I could have been there....in attendance. Reminds me of an old Yahoo post of mine: "Dark Side of the Boon!"
Sunday, April 20, 2008
"House on Haunted Hill"
I forgot about this one. John Skerry, er, Kerry lost the election. He of the "Purple Hearts" recipient fame via Nam. As petrol hedges up to $4 per gallon, the end of George Bush's regime is coming to a close. Where would we be today if Al Gore had won in 2000? Or Scairy in 2004? As me mom has always philosophized: "it wasn't meant to be." And we will never know.
Here's a repeat from yesteryear. Via Golden Pond and yers truly. Sunday, October 31, 2004
House on Haunted Hill
My sister, Ali, is out stumping the vote in dreary, cold San Francisco, while I am sitting on my big arse watching the tube. There's all kind of good offerings tonite. It's Halloween! There's Scream, Scream 2, I Know What You Did Last Summer, Scary Movie, and the one I'm watching, "House on Haunted Hill."
House stars the delightful Vincent Price who hailed from St. Louis. And it has a star-studded cast? There's Richard Long, late of the Big Valley. And whatever happened to Barbara Stanwyck, eh? The plot centers on a group of folks who must stay the nite in the house for a cool $50,000. They have just met their benefactor [ Mr. Price ] and he is showing them a vat filled with acid.
The flick, shot in black and white, was directed by William Castle, sort of the Wes Craven of the 60's. Another of his forays, "Homicidal," scared the bejeezus out of me as a kid. And another, "The Night Walker," where Barbara Stanwyck ( now that name sounds familiar ) was terrorized by her husband into believing she was sleep walking. Robert Taylor, who played the hubby, wanted to drive his wife crazy or something like that.
And then there's the "7th Voyage of Sinbad," one of me all time favourites and listed on my profiles chart. You can always tell the more smug, er, serious bloggers who fail to fill out their favorite movies, books, hobbies, etc. Unless the book is on the order of "Combining Brain Surgery and Nuclear Physics" by Albert Van Doren or "The Medium IS the Message" by Alexander Putninsky-Van Clydesdale. Books the ordinary layman has never heard of.
"From the land beyond beyond.
From the land past hope and fear.
I bid you, genie, now appear."
To engage the genie, the holder of the magic lamp had to say the three phrases to summon him. Of course, the genie could only use his powers for good. The movie's special effects were created by Ray Harryhausen. Included were one-eyed cyclops, a fire-breathing dragon, giant birds, and skeleton warriors. Ray also did the sp. effects for "20 Million Miles To Earth" and "Clash of the Titans," which starred Harry Hamlin, late of L.A. Law.
Other movies frightened me as a kid. The Leech Woman, The Alligator People, and one of the scariest: "Strait Jacket" with Joan Crawford ( before she became the CEO of Pepsi ( please see "Mommie Dearest" )) and Diane Baker. On Joan's return home from a stay in the looney bin, the townsfolk in her sleepy hamlet begin losing their heads, allah her character who beheads her cheating husband at the first of the film.
Well, the House on Haunted Hill just concluded. Vincent Price got his come-uppance. And his scheming wife....ditto. They were in cahoots. ( pun unintended ) Next is "The Haunting." Damn, that also scared the bejeezus out of me back in the day. Not the computer-animated remake of a few years ago. The latter [ computer-animated ] hold no candle to the classics from yesteryear. The new ones: sKerry, smerry. Which brings us back to Ali, my ultra left-wing sister.
She is waiting with baited breath as to the outcome of Tuesday's election. I feel for her safety if her man doesn't win. Myself? I'll be content to watch another macabre journey to the center of the mind, the mind, the mind.... ( apologies to the Amboy Dukes featuring Ted Nugent )
Farewell and adieu, v.c.
P.S. Because the Packers beat the Redskins ( not Morisson's potatoes ) we'll have 6 more weeks of winter, er, legal ramifications out the kazoo. And disenfranchised voters, and.....
Posted by vietnamcatfish at 8:46 PM 2 comments Links to this post
Here's a repeat from yesteryear. Via Golden Pond and yers truly. Sunday, October 31, 2004
House on Haunted Hill
My sister, Ali, is out stumping the vote in dreary, cold San Francisco, while I am sitting on my big arse watching the tube. There's all kind of good offerings tonite. It's Halloween! There's Scream, Scream 2, I Know What You Did Last Summer, Scary Movie, and the one I'm watching, "House on Haunted Hill."
House stars the delightful Vincent Price who hailed from St. Louis. And it has a star-studded cast? There's Richard Long, late of the Big Valley. And whatever happened to Barbara Stanwyck, eh? The plot centers on a group of folks who must stay the nite in the house for a cool $50,000. They have just met their benefactor [ Mr. Price ] and he is showing them a vat filled with acid.
The flick, shot in black and white, was directed by William Castle, sort of the Wes Craven of the 60's. Another of his forays, "Homicidal," scared the bejeezus out of me as a kid. And another, "The Night Walker," where Barbara Stanwyck ( now that name sounds familiar ) was terrorized by her husband into believing she was sleep walking. Robert Taylor, who played the hubby, wanted to drive his wife crazy or something like that.
And then there's the "7th Voyage of Sinbad," one of me all time favourites and listed on my profiles chart. You can always tell the more smug, er, serious bloggers who fail to fill out their favorite movies, books, hobbies, etc. Unless the book is on the order of "Combining Brain Surgery and Nuclear Physics" by Albert Van Doren or "The Medium IS the Message" by Alexander Putninsky-Van Clydesdale. Books the ordinary layman has never heard of.
"From the land beyond beyond.
From the land past hope and fear.
I bid you, genie, now appear."
To engage the genie, the holder of the magic lamp had to say the three phrases to summon him. Of course, the genie could only use his powers for good. The movie's special effects were created by Ray Harryhausen. Included were one-eyed cyclops, a fire-breathing dragon, giant birds, and skeleton warriors. Ray also did the sp. effects for "20 Million Miles To Earth" and "Clash of the Titans," which starred Harry Hamlin, late of L.A. Law.
Other movies frightened me as a kid. The Leech Woman, The Alligator People, and one of the scariest: "Strait Jacket" with Joan Crawford ( before she became the CEO of Pepsi ( please see "Mommie Dearest" )) and Diane Baker. On Joan's return home from a stay in the looney bin, the townsfolk in her sleepy hamlet begin losing their heads, allah her character who beheads her cheating husband at the first of the film.
Well, the House on Haunted Hill just concluded. Vincent Price got his come-uppance. And his scheming wife....ditto. They were in cahoots. ( pun unintended ) Next is "The Haunting." Damn, that also scared the bejeezus out of me back in the day. Not the computer-animated remake of a few years ago. The latter [ computer-animated ] hold no candle to the classics from yesteryear. The new ones: sKerry, smerry. Which brings us back to Ali, my ultra left-wing sister.
She is waiting with baited breath as to the outcome of Tuesday's election. I feel for her safety if her man doesn't win. Myself? I'll be content to watch another macabre journey to the center of the mind, the mind, the mind.... ( apologies to the Amboy Dukes featuring Ted Nugent )
Farewell and adieu, v.c.
P.S. Because the Packers beat the Redskins ( not Morisson's potatoes ) we'll have 6 more weeks of winter, er, legal ramifications out the kazoo. And disenfranchised voters, and.....
Posted by vietnamcatfish at 8:46 PM 2 comments Links to this post
Friday, April 18, 2008
"Farewell and Adieu"
There were a couple of times this week when I considered concluding "Golden Pond," my blog of almost 4 years. I just didn't have it in me anymore. Too much of a hassle. Yadi yadi yadi.
But then I resurrected an old post from yesteryear, "Sloganless." Of course, I read it. And thought it was "somewhat" clever. Even tho' written many moons ago. And when I added the Jackson Browne song, "Somebody's Dilly," er, "Baby" to the end of the foray, it gave me the jolt I needed to keep a'pressin' on.
Not sure why but I dig the song, which was featured on the "Fast Times at Rowdy, er, Ridgemont High" soundtrack. And which starred a young Sean Penn, Judge Reinhold, the gorgeous Phoebe Cates, Nicolas Cage ( small part ), et al. A cult classic.
So I was reenergized. And even the Hootster, my friend of many moons, deigned to leave a comment.
So-for now-Golden Pond will continue. Plus, I use it as a chronicle of my excursions. Or as we used to say in the 60's, to see where "my head is ( was ) at."
Heavy, v.c.
But then I resurrected an old post from yesteryear, "Sloganless." Of course, I read it. And thought it was "somewhat" clever. Even tho' written many moons ago. And when I added the Jackson Browne song, "Somebody's Dilly," er, "Baby" to the end of the foray, it gave me the jolt I needed to keep a'pressin' on.
Not sure why but I dig the song, which was featured on the "Fast Times at Rowdy, er, Ridgemont High" soundtrack. And which starred a young Sean Penn, Judge Reinhold, the gorgeous Phoebe Cates, Nicolas Cage ( small part ), et al. A cult classic.
So I was reenergized. And even the Hootster, my friend of many moons, deigned to leave a comment.
So-for now-Golden Pond will continue. Plus, I use it as a chronicle of my excursions. Or as we used to say in the 60's, to see where "my head is ( was ) at."
Heavy, v.c.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
"Buttermilk....Anyone?"
Thursday, December 02, 2004
Publish or Perish Revisited
The Pond has been in hiatus for the last two days. There always seems to be a positive in a negative, so with that in mind, here's tonite's foray.
1) Before proceeding, I must correct the Hootster concerning the making of buttermilk from scratch. Sorry! Maybe it's old-timers rearing its ugly head, again. But my friend, cajun balls au vin, correctly recalled that 8 gallons of water and 8 lbs. of powdered milk is required. And one quart of store-bought buttermilk. Not the 5 & 5 erroneously reported by you know who.
From yours truly: One key to its success lies in the water temperature.....70-72 degrees are the magic numbers. And a spanking-clean container, as well.
Back in the day the brass firmly disallowed its use in fried chicken. But imho, the b.m. could have been used as a batter, provided the above procedures were followed. The brass had little or no faith in the b.m. makers. And rightfully so.
But in 2004, it's really quite irrelevent. However, if one's interst is piqued, I suggest the following disclaimer: Caution: "Don't try this at home." [ unless your plans include inviting Betty Crocker over for brunch or on feeding a battalion or brigade. ]
2) Each Christmas, "It's A Wonderful Life," the movie, returns to television. There are different versions. The restored original black and white; the grainy one with all the snow and blips; and the colorized one.
Even though I've watched it through the years, I got more out of it last year. Getting older, perhaps? And relating to the central theme: how one's life makes an impact in the grand scheme of things, and how different things would be if not for one's existence.
3) There is no three. Sleepy....so sleepy.
Farewell and adieu, v.c.
P.S. The "Family Man" with Nicolas Cage is another great Christmas movie foray!
Posted by vietnamcatfish at 10:20 PM 3 comments Links to this post
Epilogue: It was an easy recipe. But the crew ALWAYS screwed it up. Either the milk separated or it came out-literally-in sheets.
Publish or Perish Revisited
The Pond has been in hiatus for the last two days. There always seems to be a positive in a negative, so with that in mind, here's tonite's foray.
1) Before proceeding, I must correct the Hootster concerning the making of buttermilk from scratch. Sorry! Maybe it's old-timers rearing its ugly head, again. But my friend, cajun balls au vin, correctly recalled that 8 gallons of water and 8 lbs. of powdered milk is required. And one quart of store-bought buttermilk. Not the 5 & 5 erroneously reported by you know who.
From yours truly: One key to its success lies in the water temperature.....70-72 degrees are the magic numbers. And a spanking-clean container, as well.
Back in the day the brass firmly disallowed its use in fried chicken. But imho, the b.m. could have been used as a batter, provided the above procedures were followed. The brass had little or no faith in the b.m. makers. And rightfully so.
But in 2004, it's really quite irrelevent. However, if one's interst is piqued, I suggest the following disclaimer: Caution: "Don't try this at home." [ unless your plans include inviting Betty Crocker over for brunch or on feeding a battalion or brigade. ]
2) Each Christmas, "It's A Wonderful Life," the movie, returns to television. There are different versions. The restored original black and white; the grainy one with all the snow and blips; and the colorized one.
Even though I've watched it through the years, I got more out of it last year. Getting older, perhaps? And relating to the central theme: how one's life makes an impact in the grand scheme of things, and how different things would be if not for one's existence.
3) There is no three. Sleepy....so sleepy.
Farewell and adieu, v.c.
P.S. The "Family Man" with Nicolas Cage is another great Christmas movie foray!
Posted by vietnamcatfish at 10:20 PM 3 comments Links to this post
Epilogue: It was an easy recipe. But the crew ALWAYS screwed it up. Either the milk separated or it came out-literally-in sheets.
Monday, April 14, 2008
"Sloganless Re-Revisited"
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
Sloganless Revisited
Back in my incubating period as a fledgling writer on the Yahoo, I submitted these ideas to the brass for their approval and perusal. They were jingles for my company. Slogans, if you will.
They never saw the light of day. Evidently, the brass decided to go outside the company and hired a "Marketing Director." His ideas didn't pan out, and they hired another "M.D." and another ad agency. Still mired in the proverbial quagmire, what might have occurred had the savvy ad types enlisted my aid.
Perhaps my company would still be listed on the N.Y. Stock Exchange. Maybe we would not have endured the heartbreak of bankruptcy and ye old musical chairs syndrome, evident today. And perhaps the Hootster would still be calling the shots at his old venue, H.W. [ Heaven Whole ] Who knows? But it wasn't meant to be. Que sera sera.
Maybe a savvy ad type will peruse the following and decide to use one of them in his/her next ad campaign. The following exercise in futility was written in late 2001. And here it is:
New theme songs and slogans for Piccadilly; Submitted for your approval.
1) Hey Dude.
Don't make it bad.
Take a sack home and you'll feel better.
( sung to the Beatles "Hey Jude" )
2) To All The Dillys.
Weve served before.
We're glad you came along.
We dedicate this song.
To all the dillys we've served before.
( sung to "All The Girls" by Willie Nelson and Julio Iglesias )
3) Dilly Love Songs.
You'd think that people would have had enough of dilly love songs.
I look around me and I see it isn't so.
Some people want to fill the world with dilly love songs.
And what's wrong with that?
I'd like to know.
Cos here we go.
Again.
( sung to Wings' "Silly Love Songs" )
4)SuperDilly Dreamin'.
I'd be safe and warm.
If I was in La. [ Louisiana ]
Superdilly dreamin'.
On such a winter's day.
( sung to the Mamas and Papas "California Dreamin'" )
5) I Get A Pound.
I'm getting bugged driving up and down the same old strip.
I gotta find a new place where the food is hip.
I get a pound.
Plenty of times.
When they cut my corned beef.
Or when they cut my roast beef.
I get a pound.
( sung to the Beachboys' "I Get Around" )
6) Love PIC Madly.
Don't you want a dilly?
Might see Milli Vanilli.
Don't you love PIC as you're walking out the door.
Like you've done one hundred times before.
( sung to "Love Her Madly" by the Doors )
7) Oh, Lord.
Won't you buy me a signature meal?
My friends all buy dillys.
I must make amends.
( sung to "Mercedes Benz" by Janis Joplin )
8) Looking For Food.
In all the wrong places.
Looking for food in all the wrong faces.
Looking for food.
( sung to "Looking For Love"by Johnny Lee from the "Urban Cowboy" soundtrack )
9) Somebody's Dilly.
It must be somebody's dilly.
It's got to be somebody's dilly.
It's so fine.
I try to shut my eyes.
But I can't get it outta my sight.
It's gotta be somebody's dilly.
( sung to Jackson Browne's "Somebody's Baby" )
10) Imagine.
Imagine there's no combos.
I wonder if you can.
No best value.
A brotherhood of pans.
Imagine all the rowdy customers.
Living life in peace.
You may say I'm a dreamer.
But I'm not the only one.
I hope someday we'll serve you.
And the dilly will be as one.
( sung to "Imagine" by John Lennon )
Well that be it. No signature farewell and adieu at the time. And approval but no perusal. Evolution, eh?
Farewell and adieu, v.c.
P.S. Due to the late hour, no postscripts tonite.
Posted by vietnamcatfish at 10:08 PM 1 comments Links to this post
Sloganless Revisited
Back in my incubating period as a fledgling writer on the Yahoo, I submitted these ideas to the brass for their approval and perusal. They were jingles for my company. Slogans, if you will.
They never saw the light of day. Evidently, the brass decided to go outside the company and hired a "Marketing Director." His ideas didn't pan out, and they hired another "M.D." and another ad agency. Still mired in the proverbial quagmire, what might have occurred had the savvy ad types enlisted my aid.
Perhaps my company would still be listed on the N.Y. Stock Exchange. Maybe we would not have endured the heartbreak of bankruptcy and ye old musical chairs syndrome, evident today. And perhaps the Hootster would still be calling the shots at his old venue, H.W. [ Heaven Whole ] Who knows? But it wasn't meant to be. Que sera sera.
Maybe a savvy ad type will peruse the following and decide to use one of them in his/her next ad campaign. The following exercise in futility was written in late 2001. And here it is:
New theme songs and slogans for Piccadilly; Submitted for your approval.
1) Hey Dude.
Don't make it bad.
Take a sack home and you'll feel better.
( sung to the Beatles "Hey Jude" )
2) To All The Dillys.
Weve served before.
We're glad you came along.
We dedicate this song.
To all the dillys we've served before.
( sung to "All The Girls" by Willie Nelson and Julio Iglesias )
3) Dilly Love Songs.
You'd think that people would have had enough of dilly love songs.
I look around me and I see it isn't so.
Some people want to fill the world with dilly love songs.
And what's wrong with that?
I'd like to know.
Cos here we go.
Again.
( sung to Wings' "Silly Love Songs" )
4)SuperDilly Dreamin'.
I'd be safe and warm.
If I was in La. [ Louisiana ]
Superdilly dreamin'.
On such a winter's day.
( sung to the Mamas and Papas "California Dreamin'" )
5) I Get A Pound.
I'm getting bugged driving up and down the same old strip.
I gotta find a new place where the food is hip.
I get a pound.
Plenty of times.
When they cut my corned beef.
Or when they cut my roast beef.
I get a pound.
( sung to the Beachboys' "I Get Around" )
6) Love PIC Madly.
Don't you want a dilly?
Might see Milli Vanilli.
Don't you love PIC as you're walking out the door.
Like you've done one hundred times before.
( sung to "Love Her Madly" by the Doors )
7) Oh, Lord.
Won't you buy me a signature meal?
My friends all buy dillys.
I must make amends.
( sung to "Mercedes Benz" by Janis Joplin )
8) Looking For Food.
In all the wrong places.
Looking for food in all the wrong faces.
Looking for food.
( sung to "Looking For Love"by Johnny Lee from the "Urban Cowboy" soundtrack )
9) Somebody's Dilly.
It must be somebody's dilly.
It's got to be somebody's dilly.
It's so fine.
I try to shut my eyes.
But I can't get it outta my sight.
It's gotta be somebody's dilly.
( sung to Jackson Browne's "Somebody's Baby" )
10) Imagine.
Imagine there's no combos.
I wonder if you can.
No best value.
A brotherhood of pans.
Imagine all the rowdy customers.
Living life in peace.
You may say I'm a dreamer.
But I'm not the only one.
I hope someday we'll serve you.
And the dilly will be as one.
( sung to "Imagine" by John Lennon )
Well that be it. No signature farewell and adieu at the time. And approval but no perusal. Evolution, eh?
Farewell and adieu, v.c.
P.S. Due to the late hour, no postscripts tonite.
Posted by vietnamcatfish at 10:08 PM 1 comments Links to this post
Friday, April 11, 2008
"Global Warming"
Thursday, June 15, 2006
"So You Like To Write? Eh????????"
You think it's easy writing these forays into the infantile? Well, let me assure you-it ain't. You have to be inspired plus you have to think of something clever to say! I ain't the most clever person in the world, in fact my elevator don't stop on every floor, so you can see why it's a tough gig.
There are plenty of subjects that are out there, just prime for the pickings. The war in Iraq is one. I just read where John Kerry recently stated that he had made a mistake in endorsing the middle east slugfest a few years back. Well ain't that big of him? What a total jerk-off! Where would we have been with that numb nut as the president?
And then Al Gore is parading his goofy ass around extolling the possibilities of global warming, and how the last days of Earth-as we know it-are just about kaput, fini.' Segue! I'm wondering if Gillette can bring back those aerosol deodorant sprays? The smell from those cannisters was akin to Nirvana. Ah, memories!
And for the sports fans out there-if any-Shaq and Dirk are heating things up in the NBA Finals. Everyone knows Shaq, but how many know of the 7 footer from Germany.
"Yah, I'm glad to be playing basketball in the United States. And I'd like to thank Mr. Al Gore for inventing the internet, and kudos to Mr Skerry who earned????? many purple hearts for bravery in the wilds of Vietnam. Yah!"
And then there's the Atlanta Braves who are experiencing one of their worst slides ( pun intended??? ) since 1990. After 15 years of winning their division, which is unprecedented in modern professional sports-it appears the bloom is off the rose.
Not sure how Brittney Spears is making out ( pun unintended ) nor do I know the perils that Jennifer Anniston may be enduring in this continuum of time and space, nor do I know if Siegfried-or was it Leroy, er, Roy-has made a full recovery from his vicious tiger attack, so we can't "go there." ( urban slang )
So this is what a writer, like myself?????, goes through when attempting to write-in my case-forays into the infantile. It ain't all it's cracked up ( another pun??????? ) to be. Back to the egg, eh?
You have just read another imbecilic foray by none other than v.c. Patent pending????
Posted by vietnamcatfish at 11:49 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Sunday, January 29, 2006
"So You Like To Write? Eh????????"
You think it's easy writing these forays into the infantile? Well, let me assure you-it ain't. You have to be inspired plus you have to think of something clever to say! I ain't the most clever person in the world, in fact my elevator don't stop on every floor, so you can see why it's a tough gig.
There are plenty of subjects that are out there, just prime for the pickings. The war in Iraq is one. I just read where John Kerry recently stated that he had made a mistake in endorsing the middle east slugfest a few years back. Well ain't that big of him? What a total jerk-off! Where would we have been with that numb nut as the president?
And then Al Gore is parading his goofy ass around extolling the possibilities of global warming, and how the last days of Earth-as we know it-are just about kaput, fini.' Segue! I'm wondering if Gillette can bring back those aerosol deodorant sprays? The smell from those cannisters was akin to Nirvana. Ah, memories!
And for the sports fans out there-if any-Shaq and Dirk are heating things up in the NBA Finals. Everyone knows Shaq, but how many know of the 7 footer from Germany.
"Yah, I'm glad to be playing basketball in the United States. And I'd like to thank Mr. Al Gore for inventing the internet, and kudos to Mr Skerry who earned????? many purple hearts for bravery in the wilds of Vietnam. Yah!"
And then there's the Atlanta Braves who are experiencing one of their worst slides ( pun intended??? ) since 1990. After 15 years of winning their division, which is unprecedented in modern professional sports-it appears the bloom is off the rose.
Not sure how Brittney Spears is making out ( pun unintended ) nor do I know the perils that Jennifer Anniston may be enduring in this continuum of time and space, nor do I know if Siegfried-or was it Leroy, er, Roy-has made a full recovery from his vicious tiger attack, so we can't "go there." ( urban slang )
So this is what a writer, like myself?????, goes through when attempting to write-in my case-forays into the infantile. It ain't all it's cracked up ( another pun??????? ) to be. Back to the egg, eh?
You have just read another imbecilic foray by none other than v.c. Patent pending????
Posted by vietnamcatfish at 11:49 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
"Link to 'I Was a Teenage.....'"
I saw this movie as a youngster. Top ten grossing film of '57. What was my mother thinking?
P.S. Starred Michael Landon in the title role. He of "Bonanza"; "Little House on the Prarie"; "Stairway, er, Highway to Heaven" fame.
P.S. Starred Michael Landon in the title role. He of "Bonanza"; "Little House on the Prarie"; "Stairway, er, Highway to Heaven" fame.
Saturday, April 05, 2008
"Cole Slaw Revisited"
Monday, December 26, 2005
"Cole Slaw"
Another foray from back in the day. Cholesterol, smesterol. Our story tonite was written before anyone knew about cholesterol. Now a 4 letter word. Submitted for....
Everyone loves cole slaw? It happens to be one of my favorite foods. It goes good with most meals. Barbecue in particular; fish and french fries where you can dip your hushpuppies in its juice. Cole slaw and hamburger; it makes a great topping along with mustard or ketchup. Slaw dogs- I grew up eating those at the local Dairy Queen. Most people would prefer a chili dog but not me. Make mine smothered in cole slaw. Alternate bites with thick crusty onion rings. OOh la la.
Cole slaw with chicken, even roast beef. The list goes on and on. Cole slaw is relatively easy to make. Start with a head of cabbage. Finely shredded or coarse, either was is fine with me. Add gobs of mayonaise and a tiny smooch of vinegar and you are in buisness. Some folks, although it takes some doing, can mess up this delicacy. Even though my mom is the greatest cook this side of Julia Child, cole slaw has escaped her expertise. Growing up with her slaw was painful.
She would deter from the basic ingredients already mentioned. Hers wasn’t a mayonnaisy slaw; it was a vinegary slaw with little black dots mixed liberally throughout. I assumed this was some sort of spice that was in there to make it taste better. Assumed is the key word.
I think her cole slaw was sweet, too. Like maybe she put a lot of sugar in it. Cole slaw ain’t supposed to be sweet; it’s supposed to be SOUR. Mom, you are the bomb and you are the best cook, but you need pointers on cole slaw.
At the cafeteria where I am* employed, we have different kinds of slaw. Cole slaw with cream and cream slaw are my favorites. I must admit the cream slaw is a tad sweet, but there are exceptions to every rule. We also have an Italian slaw, pickled cabbage ( similar to you-know-who ), and a spanish slaw. The former slaws are our biggest sellers. Most bypass the pickled cabbage. There is a message here.
As the years pass by, my affinity for cole slaw increases. I can indulge on said item at least three or four times a week, cos there is never a chance of burn-out. In closing I will divulge my secret recipe. Great with hamburgers, barbecue, chicken, you name it. Bon appetit.
v.c.'s Cole Slaw OFFICIAL RECIPE
One Quarter Head Cabbage
Gobs of Mayonnaise
Smooch of Vinegar ( Must be White, never Wine )
Directions: Finely shred or coarsely shred cabbage. Put in big mixing bowl. Add the gobs of mayonnaise. Next add a smooch of vinegar. Mix all the ingredients until you can barely see the cabbage for the mayonnaise. Taste. Enjoy. Selah.
P.S. I think it was my Aunt Madeline who turned me on to this delighful concoction. No one made it better. And could she cook a mean burger, loaded with onions! And iced tea in a tall glass. Break out some cabbage; my mouth’s a'watering.
P.S.S. I gotta go with the coarse-cut.
Epilogue: Not sure when I wrote this. Late 80's. Early 90's perhaps. And penned on my Apple2c computer. They don't 'em like they used to. In this case, thank gawd.
"Cole Slaw"
Another foray from back in the day. Cholesterol, smesterol. Our story tonite was written before anyone knew about cholesterol. Now a 4 letter word. Submitted for....
Everyone loves cole slaw? It happens to be one of my favorite foods. It goes good with most meals. Barbecue in particular; fish and french fries where you can dip your hushpuppies in its juice. Cole slaw and hamburger; it makes a great topping along with mustard or ketchup. Slaw dogs- I grew up eating those at the local Dairy Queen. Most people would prefer a chili dog but not me. Make mine smothered in cole slaw. Alternate bites with thick crusty onion rings. OOh la la.
Cole slaw with chicken, even roast beef. The list goes on and on. Cole slaw is relatively easy to make. Start with a head of cabbage. Finely shredded or coarse, either was is fine with me. Add gobs of mayonaise and a tiny smooch of vinegar and you are in buisness. Some folks, although it takes some doing, can mess up this delicacy. Even though my mom is the greatest cook this side of Julia Child, cole slaw has escaped her expertise. Growing up with her slaw was painful.
She would deter from the basic ingredients already mentioned. Hers wasn’t a mayonnaisy slaw; it was a vinegary slaw with little black dots mixed liberally throughout. I assumed this was some sort of spice that was in there to make it taste better. Assumed is the key word.
I think her cole slaw was sweet, too. Like maybe she put a lot of sugar in it. Cole slaw ain’t supposed to be sweet; it’s supposed to be SOUR. Mom, you are the bomb and you are the best cook, but you need pointers on cole slaw.
At the cafeteria where I am* employed, we have different kinds of slaw. Cole slaw with cream and cream slaw are my favorites. I must admit the cream slaw is a tad sweet, but there are exceptions to every rule. We also have an Italian slaw, pickled cabbage ( similar to you-know-who ), and a spanish slaw. The former slaws are our biggest sellers. Most bypass the pickled cabbage. There is a message here.
As the years pass by, my affinity for cole slaw increases. I can indulge on said item at least three or four times a week, cos there is never a chance of burn-out. In closing I will divulge my secret recipe. Great with hamburgers, barbecue, chicken, you name it. Bon appetit.
v.c.'s Cole Slaw OFFICIAL RECIPE
One Quarter Head Cabbage
Gobs of Mayonnaise
Smooch of Vinegar ( Must be White, never Wine )
Directions: Finely shred or coarsely shred cabbage. Put in big mixing bowl. Add the gobs of mayonnaise. Next add a smooch of vinegar. Mix all the ingredients until you can barely see the cabbage for the mayonnaise. Taste. Enjoy. Selah.
P.S. I think it was my Aunt Madeline who turned me on to this delighful concoction. No one made it better. And could she cook a mean burger, loaded with onions! And iced tea in a tall glass. Break out some cabbage; my mouth’s a'watering.
P.S.S. I gotta go with the coarse-cut.
Epilogue: Not sure when I wrote this. Late 80's. Early 90's perhaps. And penned on my Apple2c computer. They don't 'em like they used to. In this case, thank gawd.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
"April Fools Day" or "Omnipotent, Omniscious, and Omnipresent"
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The catfish, aka yours truly, went the whole day without anyone playing an "A.F.J." on me. Damn, I must be loved.
It was a hellacious day, per usual, in the exciting world of food bizdom. God, in his infinite wisdom, must have a weird sense of humor. Because he deemed me-and other poor Joes-a life of servitude in well, uh, foodbizdom.
As Ethel Merman once bellowed: "There's no bizdom like food bizdom. And, alas, there will be no youtube video to substantiate the claim.
There are other shitty jobs, I know. Driving a rig through hazardous terrain such as the interstates; selling insurance to friends, relatives, and even strangers; teaching rowdy kids in grades 1-12; and fighting in wars via the military. All jobs have their downside. And if you have a boss, it's much worse.
And if you are the boss, you have all these hysterical minions wanting and demanding this and that.
Per example:
I need a raise!
I told you I can't work on Sundays.
I told you I can't work on Saturdays.
I don't want to wear a patch-what do you mean I can't smoke on these hallowed grounds known as my job site.
I told you I can't work at night.
My grandmother died, thus, I invoke the "family rights act" privilege, er, right.
I will sic the ACLU on your sorry ass.
I will sic the NAACP on your sorry demented ass.
What do you mean I have to work on Yom Kippur?
Where's the Holy Water? We don't have none?
Nobody told me it was "Daylite Savings Time?"
I sprung backward-not forward-sorry.
What do you mean I can't ogle her ass?
I must leave early in order to retrieve my Viagra prescription.
Why can't they pump Ethel Merman through the muzak?
You're fired.
Another April Fools Day" has come and gone. Fall backward and spring forward, v.c.
P.S. Not a single "A.F.D." joke played on yours truly today. Where's the love? Wassup?
P.S.S. Come as you are? Eh?
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
"Pet Sounds"
Good song from 66. Not Route 66 but in the year of our lord, 1966. A.D. Anno domini. Methinks. Time flies when yer having fun, as it's been 42 years ago if the math be right. And because yours truly is good with figures, and because I counted on my fingers, the amount of time that has passed is correctomondo.
From the album [ l.p. ] "Pet Sounds."
Pet Sounds is a 1966 album recorded by American pop group The Beach Boys. It has been widely ranked as one of the most influential record albums ever released. Mojo Magazine ranked it greatest album of all time. The album has been ranked at number #1 in several music magazines' lists of greatest albums of all time, including New Musical Express, The Times and Pure Pop's lists. It was number #2 in Rolling Stone Magazine's list. According to Acclaimedmusic.net, Pet Sounds is the most acclaimed pop album of all time by music
Be it as it may, I believe "Rolling Stone Magazine" had it right by proclaiming "Revolver" as the numero uno best album of all time. And we all know who recorded it. Well, some of us, anyway.
Monday, March 31, 2008
"Ben Gay on a Weiner?"
As a self-professed game-shows-aholic, I ran across these tonight. I know when you preface something by saying "this is funny," there's normally the typical letdown. But imho, these are hilarious.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
"I'm So Tired"
Tonight's installment is a repeat, a command performance, if you will. From May 23, 2005. The post still rings true today....and always will. This go 'round, a video has been added to enhance the effect. Don't think youtube had been invented at this most-exciting time in history.
Don't you hate it when you ask somebody "how you doin?" And they say, "I'm tired."
When I receive this response-and it increases every day-I normally use one of the following for a comeback:
1) I'm sorry to hear that.
2) Thanks for sharing that with me!
3) Why don't you go home and get some rest?
4) 8 hour shifts are murder.
5) I wish you had bankers hours, too.
6) Maybe you'll win the lotto so you can tell that cantankerous son of a boss of yours to take his/her job and shove it.
7) Yes, it would be nice if we could stop the world and get off?
8) I can't complain. I tried once and it didn't do any good.
9) Some people have it made. Unfortunately you don't.
10) Shut the f*** up, will you? I'm tired, too, and your whining is getting on my freaking nerves. I've been working hard all day; my feet hurt; and most of the people I dealt with were passive-aggressive. Just say I'm fine like the rest of us. And shut the f*** up. Have a nice day!
Farewell and adieu, v.c.
P.S. I really am tired tonite. I know-shut the f*** up!
Posted by vietnamcatfish at 10:42 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Don't you hate it when you ask somebody "how you doin?" And they say, "I'm tired."
When I receive this response-and it increases every day-I normally use one of the following for a comeback:
1) I'm sorry to hear that.
2) Thanks for sharing that with me!
3) Why don't you go home and get some rest?
4) 8 hour shifts are murder.
5) I wish you had bankers hours, too.
6) Maybe you'll win the lotto so you can tell that cantankerous son of a boss of yours to take his/her job and shove it.
7) Yes, it would be nice if we could stop the world and get off?
8) I can't complain. I tried once and it didn't do any good.
9) Some people have it made. Unfortunately you don't.
10) Shut the f*** up, will you? I'm tired, too, and your whining is getting on my freaking nerves. I've been working hard all day; my feet hurt; and most of the people I dealt with were passive-aggressive. Just say I'm fine like the rest of us. And shut the f*** up. Have a nice day!
Farewell and adieu, v.c.
P.S. I really am tired tonite. I know-shut the f*** up!
Posted by vietnamcatfish at 10:42 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Sunday, March 23, 2008
"Lee Strasberg School of Acting"
Seems I have a knack of repeating myself. I googled Jack S Phogburn and lo and behold, the only entrants to my query rested at Golden Pond. Both mentioned how I was in the stage play, "L'il Abner," when I traversed the halls of Rowdy High. I played the part of Jack S. Phogburn-maybe it's actually Fogburn-and crooned one song. I did my best Brando, via Lee Strasberg, but it was difficult seeing how my part was a minor one. But, yes, hootster, that be me in the photo. The tall, lanky and skinny one aka v.c.
Here's a repeat of the story. Written in May 2005. Almost 3 years ago. A lot has changed since then.
It was a rowdy Saturday. And there was magic in the air. Rowdy High was inviting all its old alumni to a reunion, the Rowdy High Reunion. The emails had been circulating for weeks. So had the phone calls. But, unlike years past, this one was open to all Rowdy High grads. And because I graduated magna cum rowdy back in the day, v.c. would be in attendance. It would be good to see old friends from a time long, long ago. ( All those years ago! )
I had worked until the afternoon so it was 7 p.m. when I walked into the foyer of the Elks Lodge, even though the festivities had commenced around noon. I signed in, paid my $5.00 to Sharon Mattox, class of '69, while we exchanged pleasantries. She and I were voted "Most Talented" in '69. Man, did I have them fooled. While on the other hand, Sharon was most deserving. She still has an infectious smile which radiates good vibrations. ( apologies to the Beachboys )
I got a blank nametag from Sharon and wrote "V.C." and was ready to mingle. But before walking a few steps, Judy Bailey came to my rescue by inscribing the "Class of '69" under my name. We, the '69ers, shared a camaraderie as I recalled our motto, our unofficial motto which Mr. Woodall, our principal, didn't cotton to:
"Sex, sin, beer, and wine, we're the class of '69." Pretty tame stuff in 2005. Wouldn't today's parents rejoice if all they had to worry about with their kids was beer and wine?
Shirley, sex is still a problem. And Shirley did have sex back in the 60's. But Shirley was few and far between. At least in my experiences. So we made out. And we tried to fondle big or small breastes. And we gave hickeys. And we copped an occasional feel. But for the most part it was pure Puritanical times as the girls were saving themselves for their Prince Charming. For us guys it was okay to be whores and sluts, cos society condoned our behaviors.
Today we're all whores. ( men and women ) But in '69 there was a different standard. Girls wore dresses. No pants. And they wore girdles to keep their tummies in and playtex living bras to maintain a level of upheaval and support. We fellas needed support as well although reserved exclusively in the sporting arena.
And, yes, we were sinful. But hasn't that been going on since the beginning of time. ( See Adam and Eve for more detailed reports; or consult Romulus and Remus; Plato and Aristotle; Mohammad and Cassius Clay.
I left Sharon to mill around and to see what was going on and immediately ran into Ron Trimble. He had gone the way of Yul Brynner and to think we used to call men sans hair, "Mr. Clean." How things have changed. Now its stylish to be bald. And wasn't it Michael Jordan who paved the way?
I had just shaken Ron's hand when a distant voice rang out, "Hey, V.C." It was Gary Nelson, a former member of Rowdy High's Band on the Run.
We immediately began singing: "Stuck inside these 4 walls; stuck inside forever; never seeing no one; nice again; like yoooooooooooou; mama yoooooooooooo; oooooooooohhhhhhhhh.
Me and Gary had hooked up on the internet. I had seen his email address on the "Rowdy High" web site and shot him a note. I wanted to know what he was up to and to offer my condolences for his father's death. His dad had taught me music from my days at Tull Waters ( Toilet Waters to our adversaries ) until my completion of the 12th grade. His dad held us to the highest standards, and I always felt we let him down. Our hormones were kicking into high gear in our junior and senior years, and we were more concerned with the opposite sex than in taking time to learn our studies. And for us guys we were heading into our sexual peak. Little did we know that girls didn't reach their sexual zenith until 35. It is God's way of playing practical jokes. Thanks alot, eh!
Me and Gary had been keeping in touch for the last few weeks. Sending emails and talking over old times. And I had given him the address to "Golden Pond" and he seemed to "dig it." ( expression from back in the turbulent 60's meaning he liked it ) Gary is the consummate concert goer, and we seem to like the same of music. Led Zeppelin rings a bell among others. Even tho I doubt he shares my passion for the Fab 4 as well chronicled in "Golden Pond" forays into the infantile.
Brian Claxton joined us as we were traipsing memory lane. He had played cornet in our band on the run. He had joined the Army after graduation but missed Vietnam because he was only 17. Seems you had to be 18 to make the journey to Southeast Asia. He served in North Carolina and spent 20 years in the armed forces. What a difference a few generations make. Today the U.S. military is well respected, but in those dark days of Vietnam, the guys in uniform took a merciless beating.
And we had to serve-conscription being the order of the day. A few fled to Canada while others went to college. My lottery number was an anemic "69," so if "I flunked out," yours truly would have had to engage in the fight against Communism; to stem the tide. Or was it actually a ploy by the American Capitalists to line their pockets with money? Who knows? But it divided the country. And it hasn't been the same since. For more in-depth analysis see "The Domino Effect." Not about pizzas-sorry.
Bogus Bob ( Craig ), a name he coined for himself, was also at the reunion. He, Kerry Watkins and David Harper had provided the live entertainment earlier in the day, but by being late, I wasn't privy to what was Shirley a grand spectacle. Bob could always belt out a tune. And during the V.N. era after graduating "magna cum lordy," he said "ship ahoy and joined the nay ya vee." He ended up in Bahrain of all places, via Bogata, Columbia, Virginia Beach, Va., and on the dark continent, aka Africa. In the Middle East he was the lead singer of a Navy band, and they traversed the countryside as a bell-bottomed version of a band on the run.
Me and Bogie ( another name he coined for himself ) had been childhood chums since adolescence. We started kindergarten way back in the day, when he was 5 and I was 4. His birthday is in January while mine is in December. So he got his learner's license first, his driver's license first, and he probably beat me into puberty as well. His first ride was a '53 chevy, and then he graduated into a '69 Torino. They don't make 'em like they used to.
Me and Bob, although diehard bros, have always had a penchant for fighting. With each other! Through the many long years-from rock throwing as kids to fisticuffs as adults ( see poker games where we were always smashed and smashed each other-well, not always )-there are times where we just can't seem to get along. ( apologies to Rodney King ) But we're bros until the end.
And Alan Harper and David Harper, identical twins, were at the reunion. Remember David served as part of the entertainment. Alan had just been fired from his job of 26 years-yes, I can relate. Seems he was a victim of out-sourcing. Wonder if he voted for John Kerry?-forgot to ask him. And David is a food broker and I can relate to that. After spending beaucoup years in the exciting/glamorous food biz.
Alan mentioned seeing Jackie Satterwhite, another R.H. alum, a few years ago, who used to live on Harper Road, along with the twin Harpers. Seems Alan had a crush on Ms. Satterwhite who was a babe. Sure the term is sexist, but it's hard to shed one's roots. In the 40's and 50's she would have been referred to as a "dame."
And David knew about vietnam catfish, not me, but the fish, which is now known as "basa." Blame it on the Basa Nova, eh? Not many could tell the two siblings apart but to me it was never an issue. It seems they look more alike today than yesterday. The nuances are subtle but to the trained eye-no problemo.
My old bro, Paul Brooks was at the reunion along with his lovely wife, Debra. Me and Paul have known each other since grammar school, and we attended Truck University together where we became bros in spirit for life. I didn't know Paul was Catholic until recently. Well, I've deduced this anyway. Cos Paul and Debra had about 20 kids together and 10 from previous marriages. You should see the Christmas photo they send every year. After the gala Saturday night, me, Paul, and Debra had a late dinner at the infamous "Waffle House." I had a hamburger and a tiny, tiny salad in a tiny, tiny bowl,( what's up with that? ) while Paul and Debra enjoyed omelettes, steak, and waffles. Seems they ordered for the whole clan.
And there were people there that I haven't seen in years/decades. Wayne Pierce, former jock/athlete, Barry Brown, who looked like he was 20 years younger, Larry Fields, who attended some of our rowdy poker games back in the day, ( he remembers a classic fight between me and Bogie-libation induced ) and Steve Watts. Who recounted how he was the enforcer on Rowdy High's basketball team, and how he once threw an opponent onto the first row of the bleachers, Yes, a melee ensued.
And the women were there. Vicki Ludwig, Mary DeFreese, Becky Aaron to name a few. And my old buddy, Cathy Magness, who claims I coined the phrase "Cathy Maggots." I apologized immediately for my past indiscretion. She was a band on the run majorette and is always a gregarious and fun-loving person. She told me she will soon be in a play at her church, "Steel Magnolias." Offering her vision into the Dolly Parton character. Bring plenty of kleenexes to stuff your chest, Miss Maggots, er, Miss Magness.
Jan Trollinger and her sister, Toni attended. And Judy Miller who used to be a customer of mine at my former digs. The trio was looking good as if time had been kind to them. In fact, all the dames, er, women from '69 were "fine.". But some of us guys-including myself-were portly, er, pleasingly plump with thinning hairlines.
Some of our old teachers were there. Ms. Ostrum, aka Ms. Givens, who taught me Latin for one year, engaged me to become a member of the debate team-our topic was the war in S.E. Asia- and who cast me as Senator Jack S. Phogburn in "L'il Abner" I even remember my one song which validated my 15 minutes of fame, allah Andy Warhol.
Of all the ordinary
Most unloved unnecessary
Places on this earth
They settled on yourn
They settled on yourn
As soon as yer born.
They settled on yourn.
Dogpatch.
And whatever happened to Al Kapp? Who once disparaged John and Yoko in their attempt to "give peace a chance."
Me and Ms. Ostrum talked for a few minutes. She said she remembered that I was smart but shy. Man, did I have her fooled. Especially the "smart" part. And she laughed when I told her my occupation. She was now a member of the "jet set" having flown in from Palm Springs of all places. Shirley, it was Palm Springs, Ca. and not Palm Springs, Alabama.
Ms. Ostrum/Givens was always a bit feisty and had a gritty voice, but her students admired and respected her. I started to ask her to conjugate "I exist; therefore, I am" in Latin cos we conjugated verbs all the time. But for old times sake, here's a feeble attempt:
Sum, Es, Est; Sumus Estes Ent! How soon they forget, eh?
I didn't talk with Mr. Hobson-never had him as a teacher. He probably wouldn't have remembered me anyway. I did have Coach Poulas who admonished me one day in class for being a wise ass. "Go play your tuba or cowbell and get to hell out of my class," he said. I apologize, Coach-sorry.
And the other coaches, McGhee and McConnell, who once said most of us would never make a million dollars in our lifetime. Mac 2 forgot to factor in inflation and the greed of the 80's and beyond. See Enron for example. If he remained a teacher all these years, Shirley he didn't hit the magic 6 zero's.
It was good seeing Jerell Bartlett, who no longer mows lawns on the side. And thanks to the folks who planned "a splendid time for all": David Wright and his lovely wife, Steve Barton, Donna Sosby, and Renee Fowler, whose parents used to dine with me, and all of whom were very gracious and made us feel at home.
Eddie Murphy, Gary Thomas, David Tuggle, Eileen Smith and her husband, Scott, and Lanny Puckett and all the others. I had a great time. And to the nice woman ( dame ) at the bar who was getting soused and graduated from Bass High. ( no relation )
Farewell and adieu, v.c.
P.S. Did they play any Stones or Fab 4 at the reunion? Gimme shelter!
Posted by vietnamcatfish at 12:40 PM 2 comments Links to this post
P.S. I even saw a picture I posted during that time frame. Phi Zappa Krappa. Must be old timers disease. But, at least, I'm regular.
Here's a repeat of the story. Written in May 2005. Almost 3 years ago. A lot has changed since then.
It was a rowdy Saturday. And there was magic in the air. Rowdy High was inviting all its old alumni to a reunion, the Rowdy High Reunion. The emails had been circulating for weeks. So had the phone calls. But, unlike years past, this one was open to all Rowdy High grads. And because I graduated magna cum rowdy back in the day, v.c. would be in attendance. It would be good to see old friends from a time long, long ago. ( All those years ago! )
I had worked until the afternoon so it was 7 p.m. when I walked into the foyer of the Elks Lodge, even though the festivities had commenced around noon. I signed in, paid my $5.00 to Sharon Mattox, class of '69, while we exchanged pleasantries. She and I were voted "Most Talented" in '69. Man, did I have them fooled. While on the other hand, Sharon was most deserving. She still has an infectious smile which radiates good vibrations. ( apologies to the Beachboys )
I got a blank nametag from Sharon and wrote "V.C." and was ready to mingle. But before walking a few steps, Judy Bailey came to my rescue by inscribing the "Class of '69" under my name. We, the '69ers, shared a camaraderie as I recalled our motto, our unofficial motto which Mr. Woodall, our principal, didn't cotton to:
"Sex, sin, beer, and wine, we're the class of '69." Pretty tame stuff in 2005. Wouldn't today's parents rejoice if all they had to worry about with their kids was beer and wine?
Shirley, sex is still a problem. And Shirley did have sex back in the 60's. But Shirley was few and far between. At least in my experiences. So we made out. And we tried to fondle big or small breastes. And we gave hickeys. And we copped an occasional feel. But for the most part it was pure Puritanical times as the girls were saving themselves for their Prince Charming. For us guys it was okay to be whores and sluts, cos society condoned our behaviors.
Today we're all whores. ( men and women ) But in '69 there was a different standard. Girls wore dresses. No pants. And they wore girdles to keep their tummies in and playtex living bras to maintain a level of upheaval and support. We fellas needed support as well although reserved exclusively in the sporting arena.
And, yes, we were sinful. But hasn't that been going on since the beginning of time. ( See Adam and Eve for more detailed reports; or consult Romulus and Remus; Plato and Aristotle; Mohammad and Cassius Clay.
I left Sharon to mill around and to see what was going on and immediately ran into Ron Trimble. He had gone the way of Yul Brynner and to think we used to call men sans hair, "Mr. Clean." How things have changed. Now its stylish to be bald. And wasn't it Michael Jordan who paved the way?
I had just shaken Ron's hand when a distant voice rang out, "Hey, V.C." It was Gary Nelson, a former member of Rowdy High's Band on the Run.
We immediately began singing: "Stuck inside these 4 walls; stuck inside forever; never seeing no one; nice again; like yoooooooooooou; mama yoooooooooooo; oooooooooohhhhhhhhh.
Me and Gary had hooked up on the internet. I had seen his email address on the "Rowdy High" web site and shot him a note. I wanted to know what he was up to and to offer my condolences for his father's death. His dad had taught me music from my days at Tull Waters ( Toilet Waters to our adversaries ) until my completion of the 12th grade. His dad held us to the highest standards, and I always felt we let him down. Our hormones were kicking into high gear in our junior and senior years, and we were more concerned with the opposite sex than in taking time to learn our studies. And for us guys we were heading into our sexual peak. Little did we know that girls didn't reach their sexual zenith until 35. It is God's way of playing practical jokes. Thanks alot, eh!
Me and Gary had been keeping in touch for the last few weeks. Sending emails and talking over old times. And I had given him the address to "Golden Pond" and he seemed to "dig it." ( expression from back in the turbulent 60's meaning he liked it ) Gary is the consummate concert goer, and we seem to like the same of music. Led Zeppelin rings a bell among others. Even tho I doubt he shares my passion for the Fab 4 as well chronicled in "Golden Pond" forays into the infantile.
Brian Claxton joined us as we were traipsing memory lane. He had played cornet in our band on the run. He had joined the Army after graduation but missed Vietnam because he was only 17. Seems you had to be 18 to make the journey to Southeast Asia. He served in North Carolina and spent 20 years in the armed forces. What a difference a few generations make. Today the U.S. military is well respected, but in those dark days of Vietnam, the guys in uniform took a merciless beating.
And we had to serve-conscription being the order of the day. A few fled to Canada while others went to college. My lottery number was an anemic "69," so if "I flunked out," yours truly would have had to engage in the fight against Communism; to stem the tide. Or was it actually a ploy by the American Capitalists to line their pockets with money? Who knows? But it divided the country. And it hasn't been the same since. For more in-depth analysis see "The Domino Effect." Not about pizzas-sorry.
Bogus Bob ( Craig ), a name he coined for himself, was also at the reunion. He, Kerry Watkins and David Harper had provided the live entertainment earlier in the day, but by being late, I wasn't privy to what was Shirley a grand spectacle. Bob could always belt out a tune. And during the V.N. era after graduating "magna cum lordy," he said "ship ahoy and joined the nay ya vee." He ended up in Bahrain of all places, via Bogata, Columbia, Virginia Beach, Va., and on the dark continent, aka Africa. In the Middle East he was the lead singer of a Navy band, and they traversed the countryside as a bell-bottomed version of a band on the run.
Me and Bogie ( another name he coined for himself ) had been childhood chums since adolescence. We started kindergarten way back in the day, when he was 5 and I was 4. His birthday is in January while mine is in December. So he got his learner's license first, his driver's license first, and he probably beat me into puberty as well. His first ride was a '53 chevy, and then he graduated into a '69 Torino. They don't make 'em like they used to.
Me and Bob, although diehard bros, have always had a penchant for fighting. With each other! Through the many long years-from rock throwing as kids to fisticuffs as adults ( see poker games where we were always smashed and smashed each other-well, not always )-there are times where we just can't seem to get along. ( apologies to Rodney King ) But we're bros until the end.
And Alan Harper and David Harper, identical twins, were at the reunion. Remember David served as part of the entertainment. Alan had just been fired from his job of 26 years-yes, I can relate. Seems he was a victim of out-sourcing. Wonder if he voted for John Kerry?-forgot to ask him. And David is a food broker and I can relate to that. After spending beaucoup years in the exciting/glamorous food biz.
Alan mentioned seeing Jackie Satterwhite, another R.H. alum, a few years ago, who used to live on Harper Road, along with the twin Harpers. Seems Alan had a crush on Ms. Satterwhite who was a babe. Sure the term is sexist, but it's hard to shed one's roots. In the 40's and 50's she would have been referred to as a "dame."
And David knew about vietnam catfish, not me, but the fish, which is now known as "basa." Blame it on the Basa Nova, eh? Not many could tell the two siblings apart but to me it was never an issue. It seems they look more alike today than yesterday. The nuances are subtle but to the trained eye-no problemo.
My old bro, Paul Brooks was at the reunion along with his lovely wife, Debra. Me and Paul have known each other since grammar school, and we attended Truck University together where we became bros in spirit for life. I didn't know Paul was Catholic until recently. Well, I've deduced this anyway. Cos Paul and Debra had about 20 kids together and 10 from previous marriages. You should see the Christmas photo they send every year. After the gala Saturday night, me, Paul, and Debra had a late dinner at the infamous "Waffle House." I had a hamburger and a tiny, tiny salad in a tiny, tiny bowl,( what's up with that? ) while Paul and Debra enjoyed omelettes, steak, and waffles. Seems they ordered for the whole clan.
And there were people there that I haven't seen in years/decades. Wayne Pierce, former jock/athlete, Barry Brown, who looked like he was 20 years younger, Larry Fields, who attended some of our rowdy poker games back in the day, ( he remembers a classic fight between me and Bogie-libation induced ) and Steve Watts. Who recounted how he was the enforcer on Rowdy High's basketball team, and how he once threw an opponent onto the first row of the bleachers, Yes, a melee ensued.
And the women were there. Vicki Ludwig, Mary DeFreese, Becky Aaron to name a few. And my old buddy, Cathy Magness, who claims I coined the phrase "Cathy Maggots." I apologized immediately for my past indiscretion. She was a band on the run majorette and is always a gregarious and fun-loving person. She told me she will soon be in a play at her church, "Steel Magnolias." Offering her vision into the Dolly Parton character. Bring plenty of kleenexes to stuff your chest, Miss Maggots, er, Miss Magness.
Jan Trollinger and her sister, Toni attended. And Judy Miller who used to be a customer of mine at my former digs. The trio was looking good as if time had been kind to them. In fact, all the dames, er, women from '69 were "fine.". But some of us guys-including myself-were portly, er, pleasingly plump with thinning hairlines.
Some of our old teachers were there. Ms. Ostrum, aka Ms. Givens, who taught me Latin for one year, engaged me to become a member of the debate team-our topic was the war in S.E. Asia- and who cast me as Senator Jack S. Phogburn in "L'il Abner" I even remember my one song which validated my 15 minutes of fame, allah Andy Warhol.
Of all the ordinary
Most unloved unnecessary
Places on this earth
They settled on yourn
They settled on yourn
As soon as yer born.
They settled on yourn.
Dogpatch.
And whatever happened to Al Kapp? Who once disparaged John and Yoko in their attempt to "give peace a chance."
Me and Ms. Ostrum talked for a few minutes. She said she remembered that I was smart but shy. Man, did I have her fooled. Especially the "smart" part. And she laughed when I told her my occupation. She was now a member of the "jet set" having flown in from Palm Springs of all places. Shirley, it was Palm Springs, Ca. and not Palm Springs, Alabama.
Ms. Ostrum/Givens was always a bit feisty and had a gritty voice, but her students admired and respected her. I started to ask her to conjugate "I exist; therefore, I am" in Latin cos we conjugated verbs all the time. But for old times sake, here's a feeble attempt:
Sum, Es, Est; Sumus Estes Ent! How soon they forget, eh?
I didn't talk with Mr. Hobson-never had him as a teacher. He probably wouldn't have remembered me anyway. I did have Coach Poulas who admonished me one day in class for being a wise ass. "Go play your tuba or cowbell and get to hell out of my class," he said. I apologize, Coach-sorry.
And the other coaches, McGhee and McConnell, who once said most of us would never make a million dollars in our lifetime. Mac 2 forgot to factor in inflation and the greed of the 80's and beyond. See Enron for example. If he remained a teacher all these years, Shirley he didn't hit the magic 6 zero's.
It was good seeing Jerell Bartlett, who no longer mows lawns on the side. And thanks to the folks who planned "a splendid time for all": David Wright and his lovely wife, Steve Barton, Donna Sosby, and Renee Fowler, whose parents used to dine with me, and all of whom were very gracious and made us feel at home.
Eddie Murphy, Gary Thomas, David Tuggle, Eileen Smith and her husband, Scott, and Lanny Puckett and all the others. I had a great time. And to the nice woman ( dame ) at the bar who was getting soused and graduated from Bass High. ( no relation )
Farewell and adieu, v.c.
P.S. Did they play any Stones or Fab 4 at the reunion? Gimme shelter!
Posted by vietnamcatfish at 12:40 PM 2 comments Links to this post
P.S. I even saw a picture I posted during that time frame. Phi Zappa Krappa. Must be old timers disease. But, at least, I'm regular.
"Yea or Nay"
This is Post #1799, so that means Post # 1800 is just a shot away, a kiss away. Time flies when yer havin' fun.
The NCAA Tournament, aka March Madness, unveiled its 2008 edition Thursday night. Me being the sportsaholic tuned in to watch. The Dawgs looked good in the 1st half but bowed to superior talent in the, er, end.
I just saw Jamie Lee Curtis hawking "Activia" on the vast wasteland, aka television. Seems this is the product for one who wants to stay regular.
When I was a kid and young adult, I never thought much of staying regular. Even as an older guy, I don't think much about it. That's one problem I've never had....
"Hello v.c. How are you today?"
"I'm great. And I'm regular."
"Oh, I envy you. I would give anything to have a good old bowel movement. I've been a bit, er, uh, irregular lately."
"I'm sorry to hear that, but thanks for sharing it with me."
"I've tried roughage, prunes, er, uh, laxatives to no avail."
"I'm sorry to hear the unhappy news. Must be in the genes. Have you tried "Activia? Jamie Lee Curtis endorses it. I'm sure when she was starring in all of those "Halloween" flicks, being regular never entered her mind, but as the onslaught of old age reared its ugly head, it became a big concern. I wonder if John Carpenter is regular. George Bush-wonder if he's ever been asked that in the Oval Office or at one of his news conferences? Or Bill-even Hillary-Clinton?"
"I will try it. Anything to get regular. Thanks, v.c."
"You're welcome."
After tomorrow, we're down to the sweet sixteen. Teams that is. March Madness et al.
Wonder if any of the players suffered from irregularity. Affecting his shot. And jumping ability. At the press conference....
"You had an open look at the basket with the game on the line. You normally make that shot, Juan."
"I don't want to make excuses, but I haven't been regular this week."
"Irregularity, eh?"
Yea, the sweet sixteen. And when we were sixteen, most of us never dreamed of what lay ahead.
If you, the reader, has had the, er, stomach to read this far, please leave a comment as to your regularity. Because as we all know, when we get behind closed doors.... An irregular apology to Charlie Rich.
http://boss.streamos.com/wmedia/capi001/johnlennon/watchingthewhee/video/watchingthewhee_v300.asx
The NCAA Tournament, aka March Madness, unveiled its 2008 edition Thursday night. Me being the sportsaholic tuned in to watch. The Dawgs looked good in the 1st half but bowed to superior talent in the, er, end.
I just saw Jamie Lee Curtis hawking "Activia" on the vast wasteland, aka television. Seems this is the product for one who wants to stay regular.
When I was a kid and young adult, I never thought much of staying regular. Even as an older guy, I don't think much about it. That's one problem I've never had....
"Hello v.c. How are you today?"
"I'm great. And I'm regular."
"Oh, I envy you. I would give anything to have a good old bowel movement. I've been a bit, er, uh, irregular lately."
"I'm sorry to hear that, but thanks for sharing it with me."
"I've tried roughage, prunes, er, uh, laxatives to no avail."
"I'm sorry to hear the unhappy news. Must be in the genes. Have you tried "Activia? Jamie Lee Curtis endorses it. I'm sure when she was starring in all of those "Halloween" flicks, being regular never entered her mind, but as the onslaught of old age reared its ugly head, it became a big concern. I wonder if John Carpenter is regular. George Bush-wonder if he's ever been asked that in the Oval Office or at one of his news conferences? Or Bill-even Hillary-Clinton?"
"I will try it. Anything to get regular. Thanks, v.c."
"You're welcome."
After tomorrow, we're down to the sweet sixteen. Teams that is. March Madness et al.
Wonder if any of the players suffered from irregularity. Affecting his shot. And jumping ability. At the press conference....
"You had an open look at the basket with the game on the line. You normally make that shot, Juan."
"I don't want to make excuses, but I haven't been regular this week."
"Irregularity, eh?"
Yea, the sweet sixteen. And when we were sixteen, most of us never dreamed of what lay ahead.
If you, the reader, has had the, er, stomach to read this far, please leave a comment as to your regularity. Because as we all know, when we get behind closed doors.... An irregular apology to Charlie Rich.
http://boss.streamos.com/wmedia/capi001/johnlennon/watchingthewhee/video/watchingthewhee_v300.asx
Friday, March 21, 2008
The Long and Winding Road"
It was "Beatles" week again this, er, week on "American Idol." All the 11 remaining contestants had to sing a tune from the Fab 4. All selections paled in comparison to the real McCoy. Apologies to Pepino. Hispanic reference as the denizens from well, uh, down under have made their mark on modern-day America.
Speaking of which, a movie which is currently playing on the vast wasteland is one "Easy Rider." Written by Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper. Directed by the latter.
Old songs from back in the day. Take a load off Fanny; Born to be wild; some Byrd tunes; et al. And Toni Basil [ of Mickey fame ] has a part as a prostitute or wanton girl.
Lots of drugs and co-stars Jack Nicholson. Who didn't mime "you can't handle the truth" until many moons later.
And on "American Idol" the denizens of this world were treated to "Day Tripper"; "Yesterday"; and "Back in the U.S.S.R."; among others. The latter sung by the "booted-off" contestant. A female. Who mouthed-off to Simon's critique.
Here's the song I would have sung, if anyone had asked me to. Which was sung by David Archuleta, the odds-on=favorite to win the thing.
P.S. Gotta get back to Easy Rider, v.c.
P.S.S. Other memorable tunes from E.R. "Don't bogart that joint"; and "if 6 were 9."
Speaking of which, a movie which is currently playing on the vast wasteland is one "Easy Rider." Written by Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper. Directed by the latter.
Old songs from back in the day. Take a load off Fanny; Born to be wild; some Byrd tunes; et al. And Toni Basil [ of Mickey fame ] has a part as a prostitute or wanton girl.
Lots of drugs and co-stars Jack Nicholson. Who didn't mime "you can't handle the truth" until many moons later.
And on "American Idol" the denizens of this world were treated to "Day Tripper"; "Yesterday"; and "Back in the U.S.S.R."; among others. The latter sung by the "booted-off" contestant. A female. Who mouthed-off to Simon's critique.
Here's the song I would have sung, if anyone had asked me to. Which was sung by David Archuleta, the odds-on=favorite to win the thing.
P.S. Gotta get back to Easy Rider, v.c.
P.S.S. Other memorable tunes from E.R. "Don't bogart that joint"; and "if 6 were 9."
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
"Mystery Guest: Sign in, Please!"
As a young tyke, I liked game shows. To this day, I like 'em.
"What's My Line" aired every night on Sundays at 10:30 p.m. "Candid Camera" preceded it at 10:00 with the affable Allen Funt and Durwood Kirby. Not many people are named Durwood these days. And rightfully so. Who in his right mind would want that as a name?
As a youngster I had school on Monday mornings, of course, so it was important for me to get my 8 hours of sleep. So I would test my mother's limits by trying to stay up and watch these two shows. Most of the time she would let me, but every now and then she would use her authority and make me go to sleep.
The show was educational. I learned the word "edible" at an early age. Seems Ms. Kilgallen, one of the regular panelists, liked to throw that word around. I thought she was kinda stuffy for using that word instead of eatable. What did I know?
Seems Ms. Kilgallen was also linked to the Kennedy assasination. And may have been killed for her investigative reporting into the matter. Similarly the same as Marilyn Monroe, she of the "Happy Birthday, Mr. President" fame. Plus, she was a gorgeous movie star. She was my first celebrity crush. And crushed was I when she died of an apparent suicide in 1962.
The reruns of the show are on the GSN every night at 3 a.m., and I'm watching it now. The mystery guest is due to come on now. Who will tonight's guest be?....
by jove, it's Chuck Dressan, manager of the L.A., er, Brooklyn Dodgers. Ah, nostalgia.
I'm a game show junkie. And it all started with my watching the venerable game show "What's My Line?" As a youngster, who sneaked a peek from his bedroom, until his mom relented and let me watch from the living room.
Mystery challenger, sign him please. v.c.
P.S. And who can forget the charming Arlene Francis and Bennet Cerf, he of Random House fame. And the host, John Daly.
P.S.S. According to reports, the cast and show were never the same after the death of Ms. Kilgallen. A pall, if you will, hung over the production and cast members..
The following video is telling, especially concerning Ms. Kilgallen.
P.S. 3: "I've Got A Secret" is playing now with the affable Garry Moore. They are analyzing the upcoming fight of Sonny Listen vs. one, Cassius Clay. This is great stuff. Circa '63 or was it '64? Sonny Listen was said to be unbeatable. As we all know ( or most of us ) Clay beat Listen, and in the rematch, Sonny supposedly took a dive. A phantom punch sent him to the canvas, and he was never heard of again. Another case of conspiracy theory. This is good stuff, eh?
"What's My Line" aired every night on Sundays at 10:30 p.m. "Candid Camera" preceded it at 10:00 with the affable Allen Funt and Durwood Kirby. Not many people are named Durwood these days. And rightfully so. Who in his right mind would want that as a name?
As a youngster I had school on Monday mornings, of course, so it was important for me to get my 8 hours of sleep. So I would test my mother's limits by trying to stay up and watch these two shows. Most of the time she would let me, but every now and then she would use her authority and make me go to sleep.
The show was educational. I learned the word "edible" at an early age. Seems Ms. Kilgallen, one of the regular panelists, liked to throw that word around. I thought she was kinda stuffy for using that word instead of eatable. What did I know?
Seems Ms. Kilgallen was also linked to the Kennedy assasination. And may have been killed for her investigative reporting into the matter. Similarly the same as Marilyn Monroe, she of the "Happy Birthday, Mr. President" fame. Plus, she was a gorgeous movie star. She was my first celebrity crush. And crushed was I when she died of an apparent suicide in 1962.
The reruns of the show are on the GSN every night at 3 a.m., and I'm watching it now. The mystery guest is due to come on now. Who will tonight's guest be?....
by jove, it's Chuck Dressan, manager of the L.A., er, Brooklyn Dodgers. Ah, nostalgia.
I'm a game show junkie. And it all started with my watching the venerable game show "What's My Line?" As a youngster, who sneaked a peek from his bedroom, until his mom relented and let me watch from the living room.
Mystery challenger, sign him please. v.c.
P.S. And who can forget the charming Arlene Francis and Bennet Cerf, he of Random House fame. And the host, John Daly.
P.S.S. According to reports, the cast and show were never the same after the death of Ms. Kilgallen. A pall, if you will, hung over the production and cast members..
The following video is telling, especially concerning Ms. Kilgallen.
P.S. 3: "I've Got A Secret" is playing now with the affable Garry Moore. They are analyzing the upcoming fight of Sonny Listen vs. one, Cassius Clay. This is great stuff. Circa '63 or was it '64? Sonny Listen was said to be unbeatable. As we all know ( or most of us ) Clay beat Listen, and in the rematch, Sonny supposedly took a dive. A phantom punch sent him to the canvas, and he was never heard of again. Another case of conspiracy theory. This is good stuff, eh?
Thursday, March 13, 2008
"Pure Fluff"
As are most of my other forays into the infantile.
I had a crush on my red-headed 4th grade teacher, Miss Wise. Back in those pre-historic days, Ms. hadn't been invented. It would take Gloria Steinem or Helen Gurdy Brown to change all of that.
Miss Wise was hot. One day she was rummaging through her pocketbook, and I could see a pack of cigarettes. Disillusioned was I that my girl friend smoked. How could she do that to me. I never thought of her in the same vein, even tho' my crush lingered on until the end of the year.
I never saw her again, as we moved to another neighborhood the following year. Wonder if she's still alive? Or if she still smokes? Or if she's hooked-up to an iron lung? I doubt she is the stunning redhead she once was, because she's got to be in her late 60's.
I was hot for Miss Wise and hot for teacher. Apologies to Van Halen.
I had a crush on my red-headed 4th grade teacher, Miss Wise. Back in those pre-historic days, Ms. hadn't been invented. It would take Gloria Steinem or Helen Gurdy Brown to change all of that.
Miss Wise was hot. One day she was rummaging through her pocketbook, and I could see a pack of cigarettes. Disillusioned was I that my girl friend smoked. How could she do that to me. I never thought of her in the same vein, even tho' my crush lingered on until the end of the year.
I never saw her again, as we moved to another neighborhood the following year. Wonder if she's still alive? Or if she still smokes? Or if she's hooked-up to an iron lung? I doubt she is the stunning redhead she once was, because she's got to be in her late 60's.
I was hot for Miss Wise and hot for teacher. Apologies to Van Halen.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
"American Beauty"
Another bizarre film. Saw it in its entirety tonight. For the first time. And two great songs in the soundtrack. Another peek at Americana.
Sunday, March 09, 2008
"How Did You Get Poop On Your Lemon?"
My friend, the hootster, left an interesting tidbit on his blog yesterday. ( see title of this foray! )
Seems the lemons you receive with water/tea in a restaurant have all kinds of diseases on them. Fecal matter, viruses, et al. And you, the idiot, er, discerning customers are unaware of what goes on behind the scenes in the kitchens.
I used to require the staff to wash 30-40 lbs. of lemons ( 166 count for the uninitiated ) in a big dishpan before cutting back in the day. But, as in most places, the team members would rather cut 'em straight from the box. Too much trouble and all that.
At the airport the staff would slice the tomatoes from the box, as well. Ooer!! What a crock of shit.
I recall, too, when the news media of Atlanta tested the tea urn containers at various restaurants, fast food emporiums, et al. And found fecal matter and bacterias throughout. Yummy, eh?
So you discerning eat-out customers, I have one bit of advice for you. Caveat emptor.
Tea for two, v.c.
P.S. The place where I currently reside/work has iced tea. I wouldn't drink it for all the, er, tea in China. Why? We never clean the spigots on a regular basis. Talk about ooey-gooey. Apologies to Officer Don from the "Popeye Club." Circa my own childhood.
Seems the lemons you receive with water/tea in a restaurant have all kinds of diseases on them. Fecal matter, viruses, et al. And you, the idiot, er, discerning customers are unaware of what goes on behind the scenes in the kitchens.
I used to require the staff to wash 30-40 lbs. of lemons ( 166 count for the uninitiated ) in a big dishpan before cutting back in the day. But, as in most places, the team members would rather cut 'em straight from the box. Too much trouble and all that.
At the airport the staff would slice the tomatoes from the box, as well. Ooer!! What a crock of shit.
I recall, too, when the news media of Atlanta tested the tea urn containers at various restaurants, fast food emporiums, et al. And found fecal matter and bacterias throughout. Yummy, eh?
So you discerning eat-out customers, I have one bit of advice for you. Caveat emptor.
Tea for two, v.c.
P.S. The place where I currently reside/work has iced tea. I wouldn't drink it for all the, er, tea in China. Why? We never clean the spigots on a regular basis. Talk about ooey-gooey. Apologies to Officer Don from the "Popeye Club." Circa my own childhood.
Friday, March 07, 2008
"Magnolia"
That was some bizarre movie I watched last night. Kept me up until the wee hours of the morning it did. The damn thing lasted a little over 3 hrs. All star cast. Tom Cruise; and the others-not my area of knowledge ( late 90's )-and I don't want to "google" it to find out.
The review ( vast wasteland ) claimed it was Altmanesque, and I guess it was. He of "Mash" and "Nashville" fame among others. I remember seeing the former "bitd" and thought it was great. Had never seen anything like it. "Spearchucker" Jones et al. Smoking marijuana on the bench et al.
And "Nashville" is a great movie. Seeing is believing. Altmanesque, eh?
"Magnolia" is good, too. Dsyfunctional denizens of the world is its theme. And Tom Cruise won an Academy Award as Best Supporting Actor. He played a svengali whose message was simple: get the bush. And he didn't beat around the bush extolling the message. He didn't mince words, either. Quite a role departure for Mr. Cruise.
The raining-down of frogs on L.A.-not lower Alabama-was a bizarre ending and was well, er, Altmanesque.
The beginning theme song was "one" I hadn't heard in years. My liberal sister had a fancy for it, as well, many moons ago. The song is not from the originators, but some 90's chick, so, of course, I don't have a clue as to who sang it. ( once again, the late 90's is not included in my expertise. )
Good movie if you have 3 hours of your precious life to kill.
The clock on the proverbial wall says it's time to go bye-bye, v.c., so I will bid farewell and adieu to another day. Apology to Paul Mac.
One is the loneliest # indeed, v.c.
p.s. Watching the montage I do remember Jason Robards and Melinda Dillon, but I can't recall Ricky Bobbitt's friend's name, nor the geeky guy who is a good actor and who starred in "Jurassic Park 3." With Tea Leoni, who is a good-looking woman. She stars in one of me favorite flicks, "Family Man" with Nicolas Coppola, er, Cage. Nor the name of the actor who won an A.A. for his portrayal of "Capote."
The review ( vast wasteland ) claimed it was Altmanesque, and I guess it was. He of "Mash" and "Nashville" fame among others. I remember seeing the former "bitd" and thought it was great. Had never seen anything like it. "Spearchucker" Jones et al. Smoking marijuana on the bench et al.
And "Nashville" is a great movie. Seeing is believing. Altmanesque, eh?
"Magnolia" is good, too. Dsyfunctional denizens of the world is its theme. And Tom Cruise won an Academy Award as Best Supporting Actor. He played a svengali whose message was simple: get the bush. And he didn't beat around the bush extolling the message. He didn't mince words, either. Quite a role departure for Mr. Cruise.
The raining-down of frogs on L.A.-not lower Alabama-was a bizarre ending and was well, er, Altmanesque.
The beginning theme song was "one" I hadn't heard in years. My liberal sister had a fancy for it, as well, many moons ago. The song is not from the originators, but some 90's chick, so, of course, I don't have a clue as to who sang it. ( once again, the late 90's is not included in my expertise. )
Good movie if you have 3 hours of your precious life to kill.
The clock on the proverbial wall says it's time to go bye-bye, v.c., so I will bid farewell and adieu to another day. Apology to Paul Mac.
One is the loneliest # indeed, v.c.
p.s. Watching the montage I do remember Jason Robards and Melinda Dillon, but I can't recall Ricky Bobbitt's friend's name, nor the geeky guy who is a good actor and who starred in "Jurassic Park 3." With Tea Leoni, who is a good-looking woman. She stars in one of me favorite flicks, "Family Man" with Nicolas Coppola, er, Cage. Nor the name of the actor who won an A.A. for his portrayal of "Capote."
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
"Prisoner"
I'm a movie buff. Duh! Tonite's hi-lighted song is from the 70's, and it features the singing of one, Babs Streisand. Yeah, that one. The liberal touchy-feely one.
The movie from whence the song came is "The Eyes of Laura Mars." Co-starred Al Gore's roommate, one Tommy Lee Jones. He plays a deranged detective who is committing the murders. And the femme fatale lead is played not by Babs but by Faye Dunaway, she of the "Mommy Dearest" role which ruined/devestated her career.
Here's the song:
No wire hangers, v.c.
The movie from whence the song came is "The Eyes of Laura Mars." Co-starred Al Gore's roommate, one Tommy Lee Jones. He plays a deranged detective who is committing the murders. And the femme fatale lead is played not by Babs but by Faye Dunaway, she of the "Mommy Dearest" role which ruined/devestated her career.
Here's the song:
No wire hangers, v.c.
"Faster Than A Speeding Bullet"
I tuned into Hootsbuddy's Place and saw an amazing vocal from a youngster singing "Imagine." The three reviewers-even Simon, who happens to be the highest-paid person on the vast wasteland-gave him excellent reviews.
Of course, I have an affinity for anything from and by the Fab 4. Separate and/or together. I am going immediately to youtube to watch the original-white piano et al.
My friend, Neal Boortz, hates the song, because it's message is socialistic. Oh, well. Can't win 'em all.
At least the kid didn't sing "Gimme Some Truth," another tune from John. Here are some of the, er, lyrics:
Im sick and tired of hearing things
From uptight, short-sighted, narrow-minded hypocritics
All I want is the truth
Just gimme some truth
Ive had enough of reading things
By neurotic, psychotic, pig-headed politicians
All I want is the truth
Just gimme some truth
Without further adieu:
P.S. Sometimes "I feel like going down!" or "sometimes it's hard to get hard."
Of course, I have an affinity for anything from and by the Fab 4. Separate and/or together. I am going immediately to youtube to watch the original-white piano et al.
My friend, Neal Boortz, hates the song, because it's message is socialistic. Oh, well. Can't win 'em all.
At least the kid didn't sing "Gimme Some Truth," another tune from John. Here are some of the, er, lyrics:
Im sick and tired of hearing things
From uptight, short-sighted, narrow-minded hypocritics
All I want is the truth
Just gimme some truth
Ive had enough of reading things
By neurotic, psychotic, pig-headed politicians
All I want is the truth
Just gimme some truth
Without further adieu:
P.S. Sometimes "I feel like going down!" or "sometimes it's hard to get hard."
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
"This Is Funny!"
There are some of us who live to send emails to others. I received this one a few days ago. Most of the time when someone says, "this is funny," it ain't funny.
But this one is hilarious. Ms. Teen South Carolina is Albert Einstein compared to this poor creature.
From "Are You Smarter Than a 3rd Grader!"
But this one is hilarious. Ms. Teen South Carolina is Albert Einstein compared to this poor creature.
From "Are You Smarter Than a 3rd Grader!"
Saturday, March 01, 2008
"Blistering"
The following foray is not about sunburn. I was gonna say apologies to Farrah Fawcett, er, Majors, er, O'Neal, but it would be too obscure a reference. So forget the apology.
Apologies are big these days. Make a comment that's deemed offensive where you stick your foot in your mouth, and you will soon be making an apology.
"I didn't mean to call him [ a racial slur. }"
"I thought tomato was spelled with an e on the backside of it."
"I'm sorry the poor guy was tasered, while I stood by in a futile trance."
But we have run amok in our tale. Tonight's foray into the infantile concerns a blistering flute riff from "Traffic." And, yes, the tune is from-where else but back in the day.
Sunburn is soon around the corner. Methinks I am finally tiring of the cold weather. Spring is a rebirth, eh?
All's fair in love and war, v.c.
Apologies are big these days. Make a comment that's deemed offensive where you stick your foot in your mouth, and you will soon be making an apology.
"I didn't mean to call him [ a racial slur. }"
"I thought tomato was spelled with an e on the backside of it."
"I'm sorry the poor guy was tasered, while I stood by in a futile trance."
But we have run amok in our tale. Tonight's foray into the infantile concerns a blistering flute riff from "Traffic." And, yes, the tune is from-where else but back in the day.
Sunburn is soon around the corner. Methinks I am finally tiring of the cold weather. Spring is a rebirth, eh?
All's fair in love and war, v.c.
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