If you can't find your goodness cause you lost your heart.....
what are you going to do tonight?
This ain't no planet of sound.
This ain't no fuckin' around.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Walt Whitman
Walt Whitman was born on this day in 1819.
Ain't it so. I wonder how old he was when he learned that?
Ain't it so. I wonder how old he was when he learned that?
Now I know he's rolling in his grave. I wonder what he'd think of the latest crop of Republican presidential wannabes. Or American Idol for that matter.
OK, fine then. Never mind. I take it back.
Crossposted at a big ol' hairy pair of brass ones.
I have learned that to be with those I like is enough.
Ain't it so. I wonder how old he was when he learned that?
If any thing is sacred, the human body is sacred.
Ain't it so. I wonder how old he was when he learned that?
The genius of the United States is not best or most in its executives or legislatures, nor in its ambassadors or authors or colleges, or churches, or parlors, nor even in its newspapers or inventors, but always most in the common people.
Now I know he's rolling in his grave. I wonder what he'd think of the latest crop of Republican presidential wannabes. Or American Idol for that matter.
Whoever degrades another degrades me, And whatever is done or said returns at last to me.
OK, fine then. Never mind. I take it back.
Crossposted at a big ol' hairy pair of brass ones.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Bookworms
There the silence had deepened about him year by year. Left alone, after his father's accident, to carry the burden of farm and mill, he had had no time for convivial loiterings in the village; and when his mother fell ill the loneliness of the house grew more oppressive than that of the fields. His mother had been a talker in her day, but after her "trouble" the sound of her voice was seldom heard, though she had not lost the power of speech. Sometimes, in the long winter evenings, when in desperation her son asked her why she didn't "say something," she would lift a finger and answer: "Because I'm listening"; and on stormy nights, when the loud wind was about the house, she would complain, if he spoke to her: "They're talking so out there that I can't hear you."
From Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton. I love her writing style. It's like a fine wine, or a luscious dark chocolate you want to savor rather than gulp.
From Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton. I love her writing style. It's like a fine wine, or a luscious dark chocolate you want to savor rather than gulp.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Art Comes From The Garbage Dump
Need I say more?
This ain't about love.
I just snapped this tarantula. Praise me.
This ain't about love.
I just snapped this tarantula. Praise me.
Thank G-d It's Tuesday
Because I've had about all the weekend I can stand. Happy short workweek everyone!
Monday, May 28, 2007
Monday Garden Blog
I am a berry fanatic. txrad will confirm this if there are any doubters out there. My favorite berry is probably a raspberry although it would be followed so closely by blueberries, I hesitate to pick favorites.
I tried growing blueberries here and the Texas climate just isn't ideal. Two years ago I picked up some blackberry plants at a nursery after reading that they can do well in Texas. I was quite disappointed to learn they don't produce until the second year. Here we go with berry #1, and it was worth the wait.
Shortly before I planted them, I did find a wild blackberry out in the front yard under some trees. It had probably been mowed several times because I had no idea what it was until I stumbled upon a ripe berry once.
I'm also quite pleased with my strawberry production. I only planted those a few weeks ago and I've already harvested several yummy berries. Strawberries were probably my least favorite berry until I tasted these homegrown ones. I pity the folks who only buy them after they've been trucked 1,000 miles from where they were grown.
While the blackberry pictured above has already traveled through my digestive system, this lovely strawberry hasn't yet, but will start the journey as soon as I'm done with this post.
Totally unrelated to berries, here's a shot of four o'clocks. A friend of ours gave us some seeds a few years back -- or maybe it was a plant, I can't remember -- but they are tough and have cute little seeds which look like hand grenades. I suppose they get their name from the time of day they open up their flowers.
I tried growing blueberries here and the Texas climate just isn't ideal. Two years ago I picked up some blackberry plants at a nursery after reading that they can do well in Texas. I was quite disappointed to learn they don't produce until the second year. Here we go with berry #1, and it was worth the wait.
Shortly before I planted them, I did find a wild blackberry out in the front yard under some trees. It had probably been mowed several times because I had no idea what it was until I stumbled upon a ripe berry once.
I'm also quite pleased with my strawberry production. I only planted those a few weeks ago and I've already harvested several yummy berries. Strawberries were probably my least favorite berry until I tasted these homegrown ones. I pity the folks who only buy them after they've been trucked 1,000 miles from where they were grown.
While the blackberry pictured above has already traveled through my digestive system, this lovely strawberry hasn't yet, but will start the journey as soon as I'm done with this post.
Totally unrelated to berries, here's a shot of four o'clocks. A friend of ours gave us some seeds a few years back -- or maybe it was a plant, I can't remember -- but they are tough and have cute little seeds which look like hand grenades. I suppose they get their name from the time of day they open up their flowers.
Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Tequila Drinkers
In retrospect, it was proably a bad idea to buy two bottles of tequila this past Saturday. But as the much-anticipated 3-day weekend draws to a close this evening and we finish off what's left in the bottle, it's back to beer and wine again.
Anyone who has read the posts on this blog from Friday night is surely aware it was a festive evening of excess. Normally I would delete such posts the next morning but I decided to leave them as a reminder of how incoherently silly I am while intoxicated.
Honestly, I need the rest from the hooch. I have this nasty propensity for waking up in the morning with scrapes and bruises and no recollection of what I did to earn them. My wounds need to heal. After tonight.
Anyone who has read the posts on this blog from Friday night is surely aware it was a festive evening of excess. Normally I would delete such posts the next morning but I decided to leave them as a reminder of how incoherently silly I am while intoxicated.
Honestly, I need the rest from the hooch. I have this nasty propensity for waking up in the morning with scrapes and bruises and no recollection of what I did to earn them. My wounds need to heal. After tonight.
Unhappy Memorial Day
Charles Nelson Reilly
is dead at 76. RIP and thanks for all the laughs. Match Game still entertains me to this very day.
What an era.
Reilly's openly gay television persona was ahead of its time, and sometimes stood in his way. He recalled a network executive telling him "they don't let queers on television."
What an era.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
At Least I Didn't Have To Tip
Today txrad and I went to a Taco Cabana for lunch. There's an older store along Highway 290 we usually visit, but there's a newer location a bit closer to our house where we dined today.
txrad used to co-manage a Wendy's in San Diego so he's always evaluating restaurants. He didn't have much positive feedback about this place today.
Never put an employee on the register if they aren't a people person. She didn't know how to ring up two orders of chips. And when she did, she only put in one order. Which was fine considering they were stale. She didn't say "thank you" when she handed me the receipt. In fact, she said nothing at all. I even had to grab my own cup for the soda I ordered. I should have grabbed a large even though I paid for a small. It's not like she would have noticed.
Someone from the drive-thru kept coming out into our area to get cilantro from the condiment bar. Don't they have any back there where they are working?
This place is terribly managed. And it had bad feng shui. Me thinks we shan't be going to that one again.
txrad used to co-manage a Wendy's in San Diego so he's always evaluating restaurants. He didn't have much positive feedback about this place today.
Never put an employee on the register if they aren't a people person. She didn't know how to ring up two orders of chips. And when she did, she only put in one order. Which was fine considering they were stale. She didn't say "thank you" when she handed me the receipt. In fact, she said nothing at all. I even had to grab my own cup for the soda I ordered. I should have grabbed a large even though I paid for a small. It's not like she would have noticed.
Someone from the drive-thru kept coming out into our area to get cilantro from the condiment bar. Don't they have any back there where they are working?
This place is terribly managed. And it had bad feng shui. Me thinks we shan't be going to that one again.
Yeah, Whatever
I've known all 50 since I was about six, so this wasn't a real stretch. I guess I'm just bored today.
And why does it have to be an either/or? Can't I be a geography buff, which I am, and have an excellent memory, which I do? Unless it's people's names or faces -- I'm terrible with those until I get to know the person.
via Phydeaux.
| You Really Know Your State Capitols |
 You Got 20 State Capitols Correct You're either a geography buff... or you have an excellent memory. |
And why does it have to be an either/or? Can't I be a geography buff, which I am, and have an excellent memory, which I do? Unless it's people's names or faces -- I'm terrible with those until I get to know the person.
via Phydeaux.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Traveling Miles & Miles of Aisles
So many people have done Miles Davis tributes, I don't know who to feature on the birthday of this great legend.
Bullshit. You are a genius and you still can't do it any other way.
This one is from 1959, before I was born. Yee haa.
Bullshit. You are a genius and you still can't do it any other way.
This one is from 1959, before I was born. Yee haa.
It's a Guy Thing
Unless a few of you women out there enjoy walking around with a wallet in your back pocket, and then you'll relate to this story as well.
I've never understood why men carry wallets in their back pocket. Not only is it easier to have it picked off in many cases, it's damned uncomfortable when sitting, especially if packed with cash or credit cards. (Being packed with cash somehow makes it more comfortable, but I digress.)
Yesterday morning I was driving to work and on some subconscious level I was thinking what a pleasant drive it was, aside from the fact that traffic was light. Upon arriving at the office, I turned to walk up the stairs, and felt around at my back pocket to be sure my wallet was there. Of course it wasn't. That's why I was feeling for it in the first place; I felt like I was carrying a lighter load than usual.
I didn't panic because I knew I'd left it at home due to a distraction of some sort while gathering up my things. But it's a strange sensation to suddenly be at the mercy of someone else to buy me things, and when leaving work for the day, having to rely to txrad to drive me home. I like to do the driving so this was a major inconvenience for me.
Anyhow, we still need to work on some alternatives to a wallet in the back pocket. Sometimes at work I find myself pulling it to the side as much as possible so I'm not sitting directly on it. Occasionally, if I'm wearing cargo shorts, I'll even put it in the side pocket which is far more comfortable, but then again I'll have the periodic feeling that I've lost my wallet whenever I give myself a reach-around and it's not there.
The last time I went to Europe I took along a hippie-esque fabric pouch that an artist friend made me many years ago. It's lightweight and pliable so it was easy to store cash and a credit card in it and stash it in my front pocket for safety. I like that.
I've never understood why men carry wallets in their back pocket. Not only is it easier to have it picked off in many cases, it's damned uncomfortable when sitting, especially if packed with cash or credit cards. (Being packed with cash somehow makes it more comfortable, but I digress.)
Yesterday morning I was driving to work and on some subconscious level I was thinking what a pleasant drive it was, aside from the fact that traffic was light. Upon arriving at the office, I turned to walk up the stairs, and felt around at my back pocket to be sure my wallet was there. Of course it wasn't. That's why I was feeling for it in the first place; I felt like I was carrying a lighter load than usual.
I didn't panic because I knew I'd left it at home due to a distraction of some sort while gathering up my things. But it's a strange sensation to suddenly be at the mercy of someone else to buy me things, and when leaving work for the day, having to rely to txrad to drive me home. I like to do the driving so this was a major inconvenience for me.
Anyhow, we still need to work on some alternatives to a wallet in the back pocket. Sometimes at work I find myself pulling it to the side as much as possible so I'm not sitting directly on it. Occasionally, if I'm wearing cargo shorts, I'll even put it in the side pocket which is far more comfortable, but then again I'll have the periodic feeling that I've lost my wallet whenever I give myself a reach-around and it's not there.
The last time I went to Europe I took along a hippie-esque fabric pouch that an artist friend made me many years ago. It's lightweight and pliable so it was easy to store cash and a credit card in it and stash it in my front pocket for safety. I like that.
Unlawful Assembly in New York City
From Bob Herbert's column in the New York Times this morning:
Where do young blacks and Hispanics go in NYC to get the necessary permits to freely move about in public?
No one is paying much attention, but parts of New York City are like a police state for young men, women and children who happen to be black or Hispanic. They are routinely stopped, searched, harassed, intimidated, humiliated and, in many cases, arrested for no good reason.
[...]
Leana Matia, an 18-year-old student at John Jay College, was one of those taken into custody. “We were walking toward the train station to take the L train when all these cops just swooped in on us,” she said. “They cursed us out and pushed the guys. And then they handcuffed us. We kept asking, ‘What are you doing?’”
Where do young blacks and Hispanics go in NYC to get the necessary permits to freely move about in public?
The Morning After
See what happens when Liss doesn't put up a Virtual Pub on Friday night over at Shakesville? I have to trash my own place.
An actual conversation txrad and I had this morning:
txrad: Who stepped in the vomit? It was probably me.
konagod: No, I think it was me. I was oblivious to vomit last night.
Oh well, onward and upward.
An actual conversation txrad and I had this morning:
txrad: Who stepped in the vomit? It was probably me.
konagod: No, I think it was me. I was oblivious to vomit last night.
Oh well, onward and upward.
Friday, May 25, 2007
I And I Alone Will Tell You When It's Time To Get Religioun and Whatnot.
I didn't already have a poetry tag?
Why the fuck am I still alive?
It's just like wrestling with a wild animal you consider your friend.
A cat for instance.
Why the fuck am I still alive?
It's just like wrestling with a wild animal you consider your friend.
A cat for instance.
Me Got Tangled Up In Your Long Hair
And it took me all nighto to untangle. And I don't even think I'm done yet.
I'm going to Wichita.
Once, again, before I die. I want to go downtown.
I'm going to Wichita.
Once, again, before I die. I want to go downtown.
When I'm 54
If I could wander down a supermarket isle, fuck.. aisle...
and look like a 65-year-old Eric Stolz, in Pulp Fiction no less, then bring the motherfucking shit on.
It's gonna be here fast enough. Looking thru a Glass Onion.
Oh yeahhhh.
Did I tell you 'bout the food on the hill?
and look like a 65-year-old Eric Stolz, in Pulp Fiction no less, then bring the motherfucking shit on.
It's gonna be here fast enough. Looking thru a Glass Onion.
Oh yeahhhh.
Did I tell you 'bout the food on the hill?
She Left Me With a Big Vacant Void
I'm just trying to score high on the BlogScream.
Before Jack White shows up, and trashes the place.
Oh shit, the Beatles are here carrying White.
Before Jack White shows up, and trashes the place.
Oh shit, the Beatles are here carrying White.
Less Is More
At our agency this week we had a big client coming in for our final pitch to lure their business. It's a big client. I won't say who, but they make lawn mowers in a yellow and green color scheme.
We got this email encouraging everyone to comb their hair and brush their teeth. Translation: dress up a bit.
So, we're wondering why do so many women come to work wearing LESS clothing than they normally do?
Are they thinking the executives of this company are males and are likely to be seduced by the voluptuous beauty of these scantily clad females?
Inquiring minds want to know. Now. Because had I known the truth, I might have just worn my usual pair of shorts in case one of those executives was gay and happened to like my scarred and chigger-bitten hairy legs.
You never know what might clinch a deal.
We got this email encouraging everyone to comb their hair and brush their teeth. Translation: dress up a bit.
So, we're wondering why do so many women come to work wearing LESS clothing than they normally do?
Are they thinking the executives of this company are males and are likely to be seduced by the voluptuous beauty of these scantily clad females?
Inquiring minds want to know. Now. Because had I known the truth, I might have just worn my usual pair of shorts in case one of those executives was gay and happened to like my scarred and chigger-bitten hairy legs.
You never know what might clinch a deal.
Friday Pussy Blog: The 3-Day Weekend Version
I don't know about the rest of youse, but I might be doing some of this myself this weekend.
This photo is from Rebecca, with the following comment:
kona:
Just in case you don't have anything for Friday!! This is Gidget, resting after a morning of trying to empty her water bowl, one paw splash at a time. Unfortunately, the bowl is attached to a big water bottle, so it was pretty much just a mess.
That is what I'd call a LAZY kitty. I have plenty of those around here. Since last night's dinner was burgers & tots, I have to put up another pic of my sweet Tater Tot, also in a lazy moment. That pink nose... don't you just wanna kiss it?
He is capable of appearing very sweet and lovey. But in this picture, he's about to draw blood and it ain't mine.
This photo is from Rebecca, with the following comment:
kona:
Just in case you don't have anything for Friday!! This is Gidget, resting after a morning of trying to empty her water bowl, one paw splash at a time. Unfortunately, the bowl is attached to a big water bottle, so it was pretty much just a mess.
That is what I'd call a LAZY kitty. I have plenty of those around here. Since last night's dinner was burgers & tots, I have to put up another pic of my sweet Tater Tot, also in a lazy moment. That pink nose... don't you just wanna kiss it?
He is capable of appearing very sweet and lovey. But in this picture, he's about to draw blood and it ain't mine.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
I'm Apprehensive About the Next President
Because after 8 long years of W, our next President could be the 2nd worst President of all time, especially if he or she is a distant 2nd, and we might still believe we have great leadership.
Imagine what we'd think if we had a really great President. Just imagine.
Imagine what we'd think if we had a really great President. Just imagine.
This Blog is Broken
Dylan is 66. One more 6 and he'd carry the mark of the beast.
We saw him at the Backyard in Austin a couple of years ago. I was disappointed that all he did was play. There was no connection with the audience between songs. But then again, we were witnessing a legend, so all is forgiven.
We saw him at the Backyard in Austin a couple of years ago. I was disappointed that all he did was play. There was no connection with the audience between songs. But then again, we were witnessing a legend, so all is forgiven.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Happy Blogiversary to Konagod
It was one year ago today that I signed up for a Blogger blog. Or more precisely, one year ago today that I put up my first post. When I went through my archives to see what my first post was, I had planned to link to it. Now that I've read it I've changed my mind. Plus, due to all the various tweaks I've made to my blog template, some of the older posts are screwed up. I'd like to just start over.
Actually, a blog post on May 30 had this entry:
Yeah. Pffft. That happened.
I've been looking forward to my one year blogiversary for months. Now that I'm here, I'm wondering why I was excited. I don't have much to say, my life is in such disarray I barely have time to do any blogging, and I keep thinking of shortcuts to help me keep posts up daily, but don't have any original content.
And I was hoping to unveil this blog on my blogiversary at a non-Blogger site. And that hasn't happened either.
So.... nevermind. I'm going to take a long walk to think about things. I'll be back when I have something to say. Meanwhile, here's a sampling of what I like to listen to when I'm in a contemplative state.
Actually, a blog post on May 30 had this entry:
I'm in the process of creating an entirely new blog with a new host. When it's ready, in a day or so, I'll post a link here to the new site. I've got to hustle if I'm going to be ready in time for the Friday Pussy Blog!
Yeah. Pffft. That happened.
I've been looking forward to my one year blogiversary for months. Now that I'm here, I'm wondering why I was excited. I don't have much to say, my life is in such disarray I barely have time to do any blogging, and I keep thinking of shortcuts to help me keep posts up daily, but don't have any original content.
And I was hoping to unveil this blog on my blogiversary at a non-Blogger site. And that hasn't happened either.
So.... nevermind. I'm going to take a long walk to think about things. I'll be back when I have something to say. Meanwhile, here's a sampling of what I like to listen to when I'm in a contemplative state.
A Strange Span of Time
Paul is 41 today. He's a friend of mine I met as a pen pal while I was living in London in 1983-1984. He lived in Newcastle which is quite a ways from London, but we shared an intense interest in music, and I visited him a few times. It was a long train ride from London. I bought us tickets for a Psychedelic Furs concert in London but he couldn't make it down. I went alone.
At one point I thought I was in love with him and wanted him to move down to London with me. He did come down once and spent a platonic night with me in my tiny flat. The next morning I heard him quietly leaving. I got up and found a note from him saying how sorry he was but that he wasn't ready to make such a move. I quickly dressed and went to the nearest tube station where I found him waiting for a train. I'm not sure if I rode with him to the railway station where he caught a train back to Newcastle or if we said our goodbyes there. But we said goodbye. It didn't end our friendship. As it turned out, I loved him but I certainly wasn't in love. It was just lust. I felt old and alone. I wish I knew then what I know now. I had no concept of mortality.
What's odd is that it was only 6 short years until I'd meet txrad in San Diego and fell in love for real. So many events happened in those six years. It seemed like an eternity at the time. And now 6 years go by in an instant. We are in our 17th year together.
Paul now lives in Scotland. I haven't seen him in 23 years but we occasionally keep in touch. While I was in London he painted this and gave it to me for my 24th birthday. I have it on my wall.
Happy Birthday, Paul.
At one point I thought I was in love with him and wanted him to move down to London with me. He did come down once and spent a platonic night with me in my tiny flat. The next morning I heard him quietly leaving. I got up and found a note from him saying how sorry he was but that he wasn't ready to make such a move. I quickly dressed and went to the nearest tube station where I found him waiting for a train. I'm not sure if I rode with him to the railway station where he caught a train back to Newcastle or if we said our goodbyes there. But we said goodbye. It didn't end our friendship. As it turned out, I loved him but I certainly wasn't in love. It was just lust. I felt old and alone. I wish I knew then what I know now. I had no concept of mortality.
What's odd is that it was only 6 short years until I'd meet txrad in San Diego and fell in love for real. So many events happened in those six years. It seemed like an eternity at the time. And now 6 years go by in an instant. We are in our 17th year together.
Paul now lives in Scotland. I haven't seen him in 23 years but we occasionally keep in touch. While I was in London he painted this and gave it to me for my 24th birthday. I have it on my wall.
Happy Birthday, Paul.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
I Think He Gives Shakes the Hots
Steven Patrick is 48 today. I didn't even need to go here to know this. (In fact, I didn't go there until after I was done with this post. But I knew she'd have a tribute post up!)
Monday, May 21, 2007
Monday Garden Blog
txrad has already harvested some zucchini which miraculously turned into sweet pickles.
Actually, it not a miracle. He mixes together some secret incredients -- I know sugar and vinegar are involved, as well as some mystery spices.
That fragrant brew gets poured over the sliced zucchini in txrad's special "pickle jar" and allowed to rest so that all the zucchini can, as Emeril would say, "get happy."
Happy indeed. I just tasted one and I'm ready to consume more. This could be a delicious sweet relish to supplement any meal.
Meanwhile, I have a new hobby of my own: strawberries. They may be small now but they are sweet and delicious and better than any berries from a store I've ever eaten. I'm not even a big strawberry fanatic.
Wish us luck on the upcoming tomato harvest. We've had a few bad years in a row and I'd given up but txrad persists in trying to get us a bounty. Here's one on the way.
txrad wants it known that he took the tomato photo. And I think he was even slightly intoxicated when he took it. I know I was slightly intoxicated when I saw him in the garden with the camera. So there.
Actually, it not a miracle. He mixes together some secret incredients -- I know sugar and vinegar are involved, as well as some mystery spices.
That fragrant brew gets poured over the sliced zucchini in txrad's special "pickle jar" and allowed to rest so that all the zucchini can, as Emeril would say, "get happy."
Happy indeed. I just tasted one and I'm ready to consume more. This could be a delicious sweet relish to supplement any meal.
Meanwhile, I have a new hobby of my own: strawberries. They may be small now but they are sweet and delicious and better than any berries from a store I've ever eaten. I'm not even a big strawberry fanatic.
Wish us luck on the upcoming tomato harvest. We've had a few bad years in a row and I'd given up but txrad persists in trying to get us a bounty. Here's one on the way.
txrad wants it known that he took the tomato photo. And I think he was even slightly intoxicated when he took it. I know I was slightly intoxicated when I saw him in the garden with the camera. So there.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Bookworms
A new series of posts in which I pick a book at random, open it up and present to you what I read.
From "Does It Matter" by Alan Watts. "Essays on Man's Relation to Materiality."
I love that guy.
But what is it about plastics in general? It is rumored that beautiful plastic objects can be made, but the plastics which ordinarily enter the kitchen are vile in color, obnoxious in shape, and repulsive in texture. I am contemplating, for example, a receptacle for washing dishes, about 18 inches square and 9 inches deep. It is rounded at all corners and slobberingly rolled outwards along the edges as if it were just about to turn itself inside out. The material is vaguely soft, so that when filled with water and lifted it sags to one side and spills. It feels like thick, cold, greasy leather, except the grease doesn't come off on your hands. You suspect, rather, that molecule-size particles are penetrating your skin through the pores. The color is a pale dusty green that tried to be fluorescent and failed. As an artist friend once said, "There are two kinds of green: green and damn green." This is not the pale green of sunlight through the spring leaves; it is mal-de-mer or corpse green, not unlike the color of people attempting to survive on a macrobiotic diet or to be vegetarians on the basis of standard British or American cuisine.
From "Does It Matter" by Alan Watts. "Essays on Man's Relation to Materiality."
I love that guy.
Minimalism
I find myself increasingly fascinated by simple things. Like how drinking a certain liquid will slowly but surely get you intoxicated. It's amazing. And how plants would take over the world again if only we'd stop pouring so much fucking pavement and cement.
This is probably caused by working too much and excessive stress in trying to clean up after myself. By that I mean the obvious things like housecleaning, but also mistakes. Business mistakes.
I have a lot to do in the next 10 days or so as I promised myself I was going to wrap up all loose ends with my advertising agency I started in 2004 which is now kaput. It's a motherlode of trouble and problems. There are piles of tax forms and invoices from tv stations on the file cabinets. There are past due credit card statements which cannot be paid because there are no funds. And there's other accounting issues to confront.
I need to make an appointment with a lawyer. All of this needs to be dealt with before the end of May if I am to keep the promise I made to myself. And I keep making more promises to myself. Get rid of clutter. Cancel things such as subscriptions I don't need. Organize my crap. Throw some shit out. (Too many David Sanborn CDs collecting dust.)
Simplify.
Yep, it's gonna be a busy week, and I still want to maintain the blog and do some cooking and other things I enjoy. It's not going to be easy but I can smell victory from here. And I have a 3-day weekend to help me succeed. Just give me some time and tequila and I'll get it done.
Meanwhile, I am going to start a new series of blog posts called Bookworms. I don't read books these days. I haven't in years. We have quite a collection of books in this house -- some have been read and some haven't. One of my new resolutions is that once I simplify my life, I'm going to start reading again. Not blogs, not e-books, but a real book printed on paper.
Once in awhile when I'm restless and pacing, or cleaning the house, I'll glance over at a book and pick it up. I'll open it and read a paragraph or two. And the I wonder why I don't sit down and read the WHOLE book again. Hence, my idea for Bookworms.
I used to be a real minimalist kind of guy. I need to get back to it.
A painting by konagod circa 1985. Funny. I've never photographed it. When viewing it, this appears to be an all-black painting with subtle nuances in the black squares. When photographed with a flash, the colors pop out. I've never seen this before now.
This is probably caused by working too much and excessive stress in trying to clean up after myself. By that I mean the obvious things like housecleaning, but also mistakes. Business mistakes.
I have a lot to do in the next 10 days or so as I promised myself I was going to wrap up all loose ends with my advertising agency I started in 2004 which is now kaput. It's a motherlode of trouble and problems. There are piles of tax forms and invoices from tv stations on the file cabinets. There are past due credit card statements which cannot be paid because there are no funds. And there's other accounting issues to confront.
I need to make an appointment with a lawyer. All of this needs to be dealt with before the end of May if I am to keep the promise I made to myself. And I keep making more promises to myself. Get rid of clutter. Cancel things such as subscriptions I don't need. Organize my crap. Throw some shit out. (Too many David Sanborn CDs collecting dust.)
Simplify.
Yep, it's gonna be a busy week, and I still want to maintain the blog and do some cooking and other things I enjoy. It's not going to be easy but I can smell victory from here. And I have a 3-day weekend to help me succeed. Just give me some time and tequila and I'll get it done.
Meanwhile, I am going to start a new series of blog posts called Bookworms. I don't read books these days. I haven't in years. We have quite a collection of books in this house -- some have been read and some haven't. One of my new resolutions is that once I simplify my life, I'm going to start reading again. Not blogs, not e-books, but a real book printed on paper.
Once in awhile when I'm restless and pacing, or cleaning the house, I'll glance over at a book and pick it up. I'll open it and read a paragraph or two. And the I wonder why I don't sit down and read the WHOLE book again. Hence, my idea for Bookworms.
I used to be a real minimalist kind of guy. I need to get back to it.
A painting by konagod circa 1985. Funny. I've never photographed it. When viewing it, this appears to be an all-black painting with subtle nuances in the black squares. When photographed with a flash, the colors pop out. I've never seen this before now.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
I Gotta Say Something to Bryan White
Why don't you change your last name? Man, you're right next to the White Stripes.
Six Days Shalt Thou Labour
On a related note to this, I've been doing some agency-related work today. I got in 5.5 hours and I'll be doing at least 3-4 more tomorrow. Overtime! Yeah, baby!
One of my co-workers abruptly quit on Friday and I wasn't the least bit surprised. I was predicting she'd be gone in June. And the odd thing is, she just started about 3 weeks ago. She had no idea the chaos which prevails at our place of business.
I decided to tackle all her work today after I finished mine. It's time sensitive and needs to be finished by Monday. I'm such a nice guy. And I happen to like job security. Mine just got kicked up a few notches.
Happy Saturday night. Now drink up and ROCK!
One of my co-workers abruptly quit on Friday and I wasn't the least bit surprised. I was predicting she'd be gone in June. And the odd thing is, she just started about 3 weeks ago. She had no idea the chaos which prevails at our place of business.
I decided to tackle all her work today after I finished mine. It's time sensitive and needs to be finished by Monday. I'm such a nice guy. And I happen to like job security. Mine just got kicked up a few notches.
Happy Saturday night. Now drink up and ROCK!
Saturday Celebrations
Deb is in the midst of a 48-hour birthday celebration of #51.
Pete Townshend is a whopping 62.
Grace Jones is 59.
When I worked at the HMV store in London 1983-1984 I had access to the VHS video player which fed a wall of monitors around the room as well as a booming sound system. Hardly a day went by when I didn't pop on the Grace Jones video at least once. One of my co-workers --the one who helped "out" me -- used to get really annoyed because she was not a fan of Grace. Ahh, the memories I get from seeing this.
Joey Ramone born in 1951. He died in 2001.
"Guess I'll have to break the news that I got no mind to lose."
Friday, May 18, 2007
It's Friday Night and Beer-Thirty
Actually it's beer-forty-five. Do you know where your Virtual Pub is?
Nothing makes me happier than a fully stocked fridge.
It's a long way to the top if you wanna rock & roll. Hotel motel, make me wanna cry.
Nothing makes me happier than a fully stocked fridge.
It's a long way to the top if you wanna rock & roll. Hotel motel, make me wanna cry.
Another Psychic Konagod Moment
Damn I'm good. You people remember my post last week when I said I'd switched to a George Carlin "On The Side" quote and was wondering about his birthday and it turned out to be the same day I was updating the sidebar?
Well, last night when I did that string on birthday videos, I mentioned seeing Rick Wakeman in the YES clip even though it wasn't his birthday. Well, his birthday is today, so happy birthday Rick. Add another Taurus to the list.
I cannot in good CONscience post the solo clip of his I just watched, so you'll have to get him in the collaborative deal with Yes, which by the way, I have been hankering to acquire.
Good God, nothing takes me back to the early 70s like this band. And that's exactly where I'd go back to if I could. Well, maybe. Give me a night to think it over.
This one is for Phydeaux:
Be sure to check in here on Saturday. There are more wonderful birthdays to report.
Well, last night when I did that string on birthday videos, I mentioned seeing Rick Wakeman in the YES clip even though it wasn't his birthday. Well, his birthday is today, so happy birthday Rick. Add another Taurus to the list.
I cannot in good CONscience post the solo clip of his I just watched, so you'll have to get him in the collaborative deal with Yes, which by the way, I have been hankering to acquire.
Good God, nothing takes me back to the early 70s like this band. And that's exactly where I'd go back to if I could. Well, maybe. Give me a night to think it over.
This one is for Phydeaux:
Be sure to check in here on Saturday. There are more wonderful birthdays to report.
Friday Pussy Blog
And yes I am actually getting this one posted on Friday! I may be a gay man but I sure do loves me some black pussy.
Sweet Pea relaxing on a lovely spring Friday evening.
And Tater Tot has the most irresistable pink titties. The boy is well fed, that's for sure. He just had dinner and had to flop over for a grooming session, and he rather likes being on the cat blog I think.
Sweet Pea relaxing on a lovely spring Friday evening.
And Tater Tot has the most irresistable pink titties. The boy is well fed, that's for sure. He just had dinner and had to flop over for a grooming session, and he rather likes being on the cat blog I think.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Birthdays and Various Rants
Bill Bruford of King Crimson and Yes was born today. As well as Enya, Jesse Winchester, Trent Rezner, and Taj Mahal. Where to start.
First of all, I don't even know if Bill Bruford was in any of these clips I'm about to present, and honestly, I don't give a flying fornication. But I do recognize Rick Wakeman when I see him, and it isn't even his birthday. What the hell.
Happy Birthday to one and all. What a fuckin' bunch of Taureans we all are.
sorry, konagod got fucked up tonight.
First of all, I don't even know if Bill Bruford was in any of these clips I'm about to present, and honestly, I don't give a flying fornication. But I do recognize Rick Wakeman when I see him, and it isn't even his birthday. What the hell.
Happy Birthday to one and all. What a fuckin' bunch of Taureans we all are.
sorry, konagod got fucked up tonight.
One Enormous Pissing Contest
What is it about certain workplaces that seems to breed this activity?
I foresee big change in the future. And if I didn't love my job so much I'd have walked out weeks ago.
At first I felt rather intimidated in that joint. I'm probably 15 years older than the average employee and my experience has been in much smaller agencies although I am beginning to see some similarities and I have my feet planted on solid ground.
And above all else, I'm thankful that I know how to flush the damn toilet and clean up after myself. And I know the difference between trash and recycling. Paper towels are not aluminum. There are only two bins -- it's not that confusing.
Gee, maybe I should be in management.
I foresee big change in the future. And if I didn't love my job so much I'd have walked out weeks ago.
At first I felt rather intimidated in that joint. I'm probably 15 years older than the average employee and my experience has been in much smaller agencies although I am beginning to see some similarities and I have my feet planted on solid ground.
And above all else, I'm thankful that I know how to flush the damn toilet and clean up after myself. And I know the difference between trash and recycling. Paper towels are not aluminum. There are only two bins -- it's not that confusing.
Gee, maybe I should be in management.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Clarinet Rocks Out Loud!
Woody Herman was born on this day in 1913. Yes, 1913. Shit...
And so does good sax! txrad and I had an interesting conversation while this video was playing:
txrad: I'm not fond of muted trumpet.
konagod: Oh I am. That's why I want you to get a new trumpet so I can go get the toilet plunger.
I just promised txrad I would not post a picture with his face in it, and I don't think this qualifies. I had one picture with a mute in his trumpet but as soon as I clicked away from it I couldn't find it again. I don't think this betrays my promise though, and it's a nice shot of txrad and his beloved instrument which is in dire need of being replaced.
All They Do Is Give Out Awards
That line is from Annie Hall for those of you who are deprived. It's followed by "greatest fascist dictator: Adolf Hitler."
The only reason I knew I'd been nominated was from checking out my MapStats and seeing where people were coming from and it was the site of these awards. In the midst of all that's been going on with me personally over the last few weeks I totally forgot about the awards. This afternoon when I got home from work I noticed I'd had a visitor who linked from the same site so I went to check it out.
Lo and behold, voting has finished and konagod was 1st runner up in the Best LGBT category. Dang. Maybe I could have won this thing if I'd been aggressively promoting it. Doesn't matter; the fact that I am 1st runner up without even participating is honorable. I don't even want to know how many people voted overall, but I hope it was more than 15 or 20! It might deflate the near-victory.
OK, I cheated. I looked and it was 29. I'm still pleased. Other categories had way more votes cast. Maybe that crowd just isn't into LGBT blogs as much. I found some amusement in their "Best Sex Blog."
Since when did "porn" become a bleeped word and "hotbox" isn't? Hmmmmm, what is that 1st runner up? Metaphysical Pissy? There's only one other vowel I can think of that fits, and we'll be seeing that right here on Friday.
The only reason I knew I'd been nominated was from checking out my MapStats and seeing where people were coming from and it was the site of these awards. In the midst of all that's been going on with me personally over the last few weeks I totally forgot about the awards. This afternoon when I got home from work I noticed I'd had a visitor who linked from the same site so I went to check it out.
Lo and behold, voting has finished and konagod was 1st runner up in the Best LGBT category. Dang. Maybe I could have won this thing if I'd been aggressively promoting it. Doesn't matter; the fact that I am 1st runner up without even participating is honorable. I don't even want to know how many people voted overall, but I hope it was more than 15 or 20! It might deflate the near-victory.
OK, I cheated. I looked and it was 29. I'm still pleased. Other categories had way more votes cast. Maybe that crowd just isn't into LGBT blogs as much. I found some amusement in their "Best Sex Blog."
Since when did "porn" become a bleeped word and "hotbox" isn't? Hmmmmm, what is that 1st runner up? Metaphysical Pissy? There's only one other vowel I can think of that fits, and we'll be seeing that right here on Friday.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Heaven Is a Place Where Nothing Ever Happens
Question of the Day:
Let's assume Heaven is like a college dorm. And let's assume you believe in Heaven. Who would you want to be your roommate?
I was thinking about this while taking a shower this morning. And I'd have to say John Lennon is who I'd want for a roommate.
I don't believe in the traditional idea of Heaven as a place that we each go to when we die. I have no evidence to back up my beliefs, but neither do you if you disagree with me. Now that I think about it, whenever I am in a position to examine Heaven, I am always with myself in a pre-afterlife stage.
I'm not saying there isn't a permanent "resting place," I'm just not saying there is. And if there is, I can't believe we go there one by one after passing from this life. I'm more apt to believe that it's a place we might go after the universe explodes, or at the very least, after our own sun goes supernova and reduces our planet to a few pounds of fine powdery ash, and we need to collectively regroup to figure out how to create another "Big Bang." Kind of reminds me of work in that regard.
In the meantime, I can't be too concerned about Heaven. I'm still trying to figure out what the hell is going on HERE.
On a related note, here's yesterday's birthday boy.
RIP Jerry Falwell. I hope it was all worth your effort.
Let's assume Heaven is like a college dorm. And let's assume you believe in Heaven. Who would you want to be your roommate?
I was thinking about this while taking a shower this morning. And I'd have to say John Lennon is who I'd want for a roommate.
I don't believe in the traditional idea of Heaven as a place that we each go to when we die. I have no evidence to back up my beliefs, but neither do you if you disagree with me. Now that I think about it, whenever I am in a position to examine Heaven, I am always with myself in a pre-afterlife stage.
I'm not saying there isn't a permanent "resting place," I'm just not saying there is. And if there is, I can't believe we go there one by one after passing from this life. I'm more apt to believe that it's a place we might go after the universe explodes, or at the very least, after our own sun goes supernova and reduces our planet to a few pounds of fine powdery ash, and we need to collectively regroup to figure out how to create another "Big Bang." Kind of reminds me of work in that regard.
In the meantime, I can't be too concerned about Heaven. I'm still trying to figure out what the hell is going on HERE.
On a related note, here's yesterday's birthday boy.
RIP Jerry Falwell. I hope it was all worth your effort.
Monday, May 14, 2007
A Crazy Day for Critters
This morning I went in bathroom #2 and saw a scorpion lurking beneath the baseboard. Finding scorpions in the house isn't unusual in warm weather; hell, a couple of years ago I had one in my pants and got stung.
Then after I got out of the shower this morning, I shaved, and did all my usual hair care ritual and left to go get dressed. No sooner than I had my underwear on I heard txrad screaming in bathroom #1 from whence I had just come.
There was a millipede on the rug where I had been standing a few seconds earlier. That's a first. For those of you unfamiliar with Texas millipedes, they are long. Six to eight inches at least. And not very pleasing to the eye. Somewhere I have a photograph of one I was going to post here but I can't find it. The bugger was attached to a wasp nest doing God only knows what.
This afternoon Sweet Pea (one of my two outdoor cats) had captured what I call a dirt snake. We have these things here. You dig into the soil and if you are lucky, you'll unearth a shiny snake-like critter that tries to slither back into the soil. I don't know what they are and they probably aren't snakes per se. But they sure look like snakes.
Anyway, I digress. Sweet Pea managed to stir up a nest of those this afternoon. He bit one in half and the other half was doing a happy dance around the patio. He caught the other half and ate that as well and then came over expecting me to give him some love. I ain't kissing no snake eating cat. Sorry.
A short time later he had another one on the patio. He bit half off and ate it and I noticed the severed half was slithering over to the patio table. This was just a bit too gross, even for konagod, so I came inside to retch.
Then after I got out of the shower this morning, I shaved, and did all my usual hair care ritual and left to go get dressed. No sooner than I had my underwear on I heard txrad screaming in bathroom #1 from whence I had just come.
There was a millipede on the rug where I had been standing a few seconds earlier. That's a first. For those of you unfamiliar with Texas millipedes, they are long. Six to eight inches at least. And not very pleasing to the eye. Somewhere I have a photograph of one I was going to post here but I can't find it. The bugger was attached to a wasp nest doing God only knows what.
This afternoon Sweet Pea (one of my two outdoor cats) had captured what I call a dirt snake. We have these things here. You dig into the soil and if you are lucky, you'll unearth a shiny snake-like critter that tries to slither back into the soil. I don't know what they are and they probably aren't snakes per se. But they sure look like snakes.
Anyway, I digress. Sweet Pea managed to stir up a nest of those this afternoon. He bit one in half and the other half was doing a happy dance around the patio. He caught the other half and ate that as well and then came over expecting me to give him some love. I ain't kissing no snake eating cat. Sorry.
A short time later he had another one on the patio. He bit half off and ate it and I noticed the severed half was slithering over to the patio table. This was just a bit too gross, even for konagod, so I came inside to retch.
Monday Garden Blog
We are finally getting a nice patch of Indian Blanket in the yard. One of the highlights of spring in Austin are the wildflowers. We need more Mexican Hat. For those of you unfamiliar with those, I'll try and get a picture up next week. Ideally I'd like to find some on the Kona Ranch.
A year or two ago I bought a purple prickly pear cactus. Last week I saw a blossom I could not resist photographing. It only lasted about a day.
When I peeked inside the blossom I was surprised to see a couple of bugs getting some of the good stuff. That's those little black things you see in there. My camera does not focus well with close-up. Operator error most likely.
Crossposted at B3
A year or two ago I bought a purple prickly pear cactus. Last week I saw a blossom I could not resist photographing. It only lasted about a day.
When I peeked inside the blossom I was surprised to see a couple of bugs getting some of the good stuff. That's those little black things you see in there. My camera does not focus well with close-up. Operator error most likely.
Crossposted at B3
All Hail Mr. Byrne
David turned 55 today.
Ian Astbury is 45 today.... yet another Taurus!
Back in the 80s when this LP came out I practically melted it from overplaying.
The Price of a Dump
There's some guy at work who spends a hell of a long time sitting on the toilet every morning reading the paper. I don't know what he gets paid but if it was me, I'd be raking in $30 a day just to take a shit. That's $150 a week or $600 a month. Can I get paid that much for doing it at home?
Only the Pure Shall Enter These Borders
It has been a long, strange trip from the Summer of Love to the Age of Terror...
No kidding. We sure don't want any intellectuals who may have used drugs back in the 70s coming into our country and posing a threat to our safety.
A guard typed Mr. Feldmar’s name into an Internet search engine, which revealed that he had written about using LSD in the 1960s in an interdisciplinary journal. Mr. Feldmar was turned back and is no longer welcome in the United States, where he has been active professionally and where both of his children live.
I guess it's a damn good thing I'm already here.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Music To Go
I've spent the bulk of this day transferring CDs to my Creative Zen player. I have a LOT of CDs so this takes a chunk of time. Hopefully I'll never have to go through this again since all of them are now also on my PC. If something happens to my player and I need to replace it, I can upload all the music again from my PC.
Recommended viewing: "Hippies" on the History Channel.
Speaking of music, Stevie Wonder has a birthday today. And the song is still very relevant. Even in 2007.
Recommended viewing: "Hippies" on the History Channel.
Speaking of music, Stevie Wonder has a birthday today. And the song is still very relevant. Even in 2007.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Zucchini Rhubarb!! Cake
txrad is embarrassed for me because I apparently do not know the difference between zucchini and rhubarb. Well... it's in a cake.
It's only been 3 weeks since my birthday but I'm finally getting my birthday cake. I'm about ready to bite into that one. A lovely zucchini cake.
It's only been 3 weeks since my birthday but I'm finally getting my birthday cake. I'm about ready to bite into that one. A lovely zucchini cake.
While txrad was at the store he scored a deal on some avocados. He had selected two and some guy in the store said if you buy 3, I have a coupon that gets you $2.00 off. So he ended up getting 3 avocados for something like 38-cents. That's my boy.
BlogBits
If anyone wonders why I have basically quit any political blogging, Quaker Dave has a reminder. It's just simply irritating. And I can only express just so much outrage before I meltdown. Have no fear; once the 2008 race heats up, I'll be all over those politicians. I say that now. We shall see.
Happy Birthday to Minstrel Boy -- one of the most entertaining bloggers out there -- I'm sure he'd deny it. He turned 58 this week and the things he seems to have packed into those 58 years are quite amazing.
Another birthday SMOOCH goes out to Melissa McEwan -- one of the most entertaining bloggers out there. No I'm not being repetitive. It's the honest truth.
I just love a Taurus. Of course I do; I am one.
Here's a lovely little coincidence. A few minutes ago I changed the "On the Side" quote in my sidebar. Zappa had been up there at least two weeks and I decided it was time to put up another George Carlin quote. As I was working on that I began to wonder about his birthday. I had no idea when he was born. It turns out he's another Taurus and his birthday is.... {drum roll please}... TODAY! He is 70.
Happy Birthday to Minstrel Boy -- one of the most entertaining bloggers out there -- I'm sure he'd deny it. He turned 58 this week and the things he seems to have packed into those 58 years are quite amazing.
Another birthday SMOOCH goes out to Melissa McEwan -- one of the most entertaining bloggers out there. No I'm not being repetitive. It's the honest truth.
I just love a Taurus. Of course I do; I am one.
Here's a lovely little coincidence. A few minutes ago I changed the "On the Side" quote in my sidebar. Zappa had been up there at least two weeks and I decided it was time to put up another George Carlin quote. As I was working on that I began to wonder about his birthday. I had no idea when he was born. It turns out he's another Taurus and his birthday is.... {drum roll please}... TODAY! He is 70.
I have as much authority as the Pope, I just don't have as many people who believe it.
--George Carlin
Friday, May 11, 2007
Oh, So He Was That White Guy in War
I've been a "Crawly Amphibian" for several weeks now and suddenly I'm a "Flippery Fish." This tells me I need more visitors, which tells me I need to post more often and something with more substance. I have an ego and I don't like to backtrack.
Eric Burdon was born on this day in 1941. I knew he was in Animals but I did not know he was in War, even though txrad has an album and I've been familiar with their music for... well, decades. This is an embarrassing situation for konagod who prides himself on his music knowledge.
The image you see here is not Eric, just FYI. That's a REAL black man.
Here's some Friday night drinkin' music:
Eric Burdon was born on this day in 1941. I knew he was in Animals but I did not know he was in War, even though txrad has an album and I've been familiar with their music for... well, decades. This is an embarrassing situation for konagod who prides himself on his music knowledge.
The image you see here is not Eric, just FYI. That's a REAL black man.
Here's some Friday night drinkin' music:
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Sid Vicious and Bono....
were both born on this day. Bono is alive. Sid is dead. Sid was born in 1957 and his real name was a pussy-sounding "John Beverly." Bono was born in 1960 (same year as konagod) and his real name is the butch-sounding "Paul Hauson."
I kinda miss Sid.
I kinda miss Sid.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Please Accept My Apologies
I'm WAY too tired to write tonight. Tomorrow at work should be interesting as I have nonstop meetings and training back to back throughout the day with a one hour lunch scheduled with the boss wedged in between. Lovely!
And I love being so busy that I can't keep up with my favorite blues genius. He was born on May 8, 1911.
And I love being so busy that I can't keep up with my favorite blues genius. He was born on May 8, 1911.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
1,001+
I just wanted to make a small announcement. My skunk post was my 1,000th post. I'm not sure if that includes drafts or not, but those will be posted at some point and there's very few of them anyway.
I started this blog just under one year ago, and we're coming up on the 1 year blogiversary -- or is it blogaversary? Both terms come up when you do a search. Anyhoo, I can't believe I've been this dedicated to something, and I appreciate all the readers who come day after day. I know, after taking on a real job, how difficult it is to visit blogs on a regular basis, but I keep trying.
Time for a few tidbits from work. txrad got a $4,000 raise already. He hasn't been there for two months yet but apparently they are getting nervous about mass defections due to the disorganization.
Our boss flew in from New York today. She brought 2 dozen New York bagels. She had barely settled at her desk when I was overcome with the smell of garlic and onion. I grabbed a raisin bagel for tomorrow's breakfast. We'll run over to Whole Foods Market in the morning and grab some cream cheese. txrad says he's going to have one of the stinky onion and garlic bagels. I told him to save me a bite. I swear, it's like medicine-in-a-meal. I'm 12 miles away now and I can still smell them in my clothing.
One of my Jewish co-workers in New York asked me if I'd had a real NY bagel yet. I told her I had not. She doesn't know I used to live in L.A. and our boss there would have bagels brought in every Monday from a local shop. Sorry New York, you don't have a monopoly on Jews who know how to make bagels. L.A. has its fair share and then some. But I'll play along.
Part of me is tempted to buy a bagel at Whole Foods and do a taste test just to be sure. If I am astounded, you'll hear about it here tomorrow. Stay tuned.
I started this blog just under one year ago, and we're coming up on the 1 year blogiversary -- or is it blogaversary? Both terms come up when you do a search. Anyhoo, I can't believe I've been this dedicated to something, and I appreciate all the readers who come day after day. I know, after taking on a real job, how difficult it is to visit blogs on a regular basis, but I keep trying.
Time for a few tidbits from work. txrad got a $4,000 raise already. He hasn't been there for two months yet but apparently they are getting nervous about mass defections due to the disorganization.
Our boss flew in from New York today. She brought 2 dozen New York bagels. She had barely settled at her desk when I was overcome with the smell of garlic and onion. I grabbed a raisin bagel for tomorrow's breakfast. We'll run over to Whole Foods Market in the morning and grab some cream cheese. txrad says he's going to have one of the stinky onion and garlic bagels. I told him to save me a bite. I swear, it's like medicine-in-a-meal. I'm 12 miles away now and I can still smell them in my clothing.
One of my Jewish co-workers in New York asked me if I'd had a real NY bagel yet. I told her I had not. She doesn't know I used to live in L.A. and our boss there would have bagels brought in every Monday from a local shop. Sorry New York, you don't have a monopoly on Jews who know how to make bagels. L.A. has its fair share and then some. But I'll play along.
Part of me is tempted to buy a bagel at Whole Foods and do a taste test just to be sure. If I am astounded, you'll hear about it here tomorrow. Stay tuned.
Marketing Meat
Rebecca, of Friday Pussy Blog fame, sent me an email with this link, and I can't stop cackling with laughter. How many of us have succumbed to the allure of fast-food presented with such suductive beauty, and never noticed the deviation between reality and a photo shoot.
You are all being played like a cheap buttharp.
Arby's Beef 'n' Cheddar: The Show Version
Arby's Beef 'n' Cheddar: What You Are Likely To Get
Christ Almighty, who sat on my sandwich?
These don't have a direct impact on me these days since I'm a vegetarian, but I do distinctly remember the Arby's product, and that's exactly how they looked (the real photo, not the marketing photo). Coupled with potato cakes, I was still rather pleased with it. Crappy as it was.
Which reality picture do you think best represents the advertised product?
I'd have to say the McDonald's Filet O Fish Sandwich, simply because very little can go wrong with that one, although I do not see the slab of cheese peeking out from under the fish.
The Subway six-inch turkey breast and ham sub looks fairly close. We actually do go to a nearby Subway occasionally for a veggie sandwich. It's run by Indians and they will add some product called "Veggie Max" which is a veggie "meat" patty. It's quite good and the "product" is quite pleasing to the eye, as well as the palate.
You are all being played like a cheap buttharp.
Arby's Beef 'n' Cheddar: The Show Version
Arby's Beef 'n' Cheddar: What You Are Likely To Get
Christ Almighty, who sat on my sandwich?
These don't have a direct impact on me these days since I'm a vegetarian, but I do distinctly remember the Arby's product, and that's exactly how they looked (the real photo, not the marketing photo). Coupled with potato cakes, I was still rather pleased with it. Crappy as it was.
Which reality picture do you think best represents the advertised product?
I'd have to say the McDonald's Filet O Fish Sandwich, simply because very little can go wrong with that one, although I do not see the slab of cheese peeking out from under the fish.
The Subway six-inch turkey breast and ham sub looks fairly close. We actually do go to a nearby Subway occasionally for a veggie sandwich. It's run by Indians and they will add some product called "Veggie Max" which is a veggie "meat" patty. It's quite good and the "product" is quite pleasing to the eye, as well as the palate.
Monday, May 07, 2007
Monday Skunk Blogging
We've had problems for the last couple of years with skunks coming up to eat the cat food. They are getting rather tame. I know I shouldn't get attached but they are rather cute. As long as they don't consider me their "daddy." I have five cats. That keeps "daddy" plenty busy.
Crossposted at B3
Crossposted at B3
It's Pizza Night
Here's konagod indulging himself with pizza dough prep. I don't do the tossing and spinning in the air. Sorry if you were expecting to see anything of that fancy shit. Besides, I was probably 2 1/2 sheets to the wind already when txrad took these photos on Friday night!
Lovely, no?
Monday Garden Blog
Two weeks ago I did a garden-related post and Rebecca suggested I should do a Monday Garden Blog. I thought it was a good idea but I forgot last week. It's a really relaxing way to start off the week.
These turned out kind of grainy because I opted to use the Blogger photo import option and selected
If we get as many seeds from those collard greens as I'm guessing we will, we could feed the entire city of Austin next year.
Next is a photo of a hydrangea I planted yesterday in the big green pot. Behind it you can see the oleander in bloom. I've tried to kill that damn thing several times with a saw, and cutting off as much of it as I could. It won't die.
txrad also purchased the varigated agave yesterday at the Home Depot where I got the hydrangea.
Lastly, at the bottom, the various yuccas are either in bloom or working on it. The red yucca is one of my favorites and the blossoms last for months. I enjoy harvesting the seeds in the fall. Sometimes I'm very lucky to reach the seed stage with these because they are located in an unfenced portion of the yard where the deer sometimes come looking for food. They find these to be extremely tasty. I usually mutter some kind of swear word when I go to the kitchen in the morning, look out the window hoping to see my red blossoms, and there's nothing but a chewed off stalk.
Later on when the white yuccas start to bloom I'll post photos of those. The stalks are shooting up on various ones, but so far, no blooms yet.
*I despise Blogger sometimes. I had to edit this post about 4 times because the photo was longer than the text, and because of the text wrapping around the photo, it wrapped a portion of yesterday's post around it as well. So I had to go with the smaller (shorter) version of this strip of photos.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Notes From a Yellow Legal Pad
I have these yellow legal pads I keep in the living room for note taking. I've been doing this for years, and some pages are covered on both sides with ideas. Even the cardboard on the back has comments on some of them.
I scribble down random thoughts and ideas after numerous shots of tequila and copious amounts of pot inhalation. I was just walking through and saw the pad and noticed my last entry:
I scribble down random thoughts and ideas after numerous shots of tequila and copious amounts of pot inhalation. I was just walking through and saw the pad and noticed my last entry:
What is the end and what's stopping it?
Hmmm, it's almost religious.
Tammy Wynette Should Have Been 65 Today
I need a diversion from financial stuff before I go insane.
Tammy was born on this day in 1942. She died in 1998.
Tammy was born on this day in 1942. She died in 1998.
$3,244.98
That's a chunk of change for most of us. And you'd think, with my years of meticulous record-keeping, I'd know where it came from. I've used Quicken to track expenses and pay bills since way back in the 1990s.
I was having financial upheaval in January and February which I allowed to slide. I started trying to get caught up in March and April and I'm only now almost finished. I've reconciled all my bank statements and credit card statements except for the American Express statement with a 3/7/07 closing date.
The reason that one isn't finished is because there was a payment made on 2/8/07 for $3,244.98 and I have NO IDEA what the source is for those funds. Under normal circumstances I'd remember exactly. But during the first two months of the year, I had a negative $2,800 balance in one of my checking accounts at a California credit union, a negavtive balance of around $1,700 on the VISA card associated with that account, and several attempts to write a cash advance check from another credit card to pay those off resulted in a bounced check for $2,900 and another for $2,800 because in each instance I was about $40 over the credit limit thanks to interest fees. There was so much juggling of funds going on from one account to another I'm surprised I got any of it cleared up.
This mysterious American Express payment is about to drive me bonkers. I even called American Express and all they would tell me is that it was paid with a check. I'm assuming that means a paper check as opposed to an electronic payment. Since neither of my two checking accounts were the source of those funds, I can assume it has to be a cash advance check on a credit card. Which means I'm not done reconciling yet or I would have found it.
Sigh. Isn't this how we all love to spend our precious weekend time?
I was having financial upheaval in January and February which I allowed to slide. I started trying to get caught up in March and April and I'm only now almost finished. I've reconciled all my bank statements and credit card statements except for the American Express statement with a 3/7/07 closing date.
The reason that one isn't finished is because there was a payment made on 2/8/07 for $3,244.98 and I have NO IDEA what the source is for those funds. Under normal circumstances I'd remember exactly. But during the first two months of the year, I had a negative $2,800 balance in one of my checking accounts at a California credit union, a negavtive balance of around $1,700 on the VISA card associated with that account, and several attempts to write a cash advance check from another credit card to pay those off resulted in a bounced check for $2,900 and another for $2,800 because in each instance I was about $40 over the credit limit thanks to interest fees. There was so much juggling of funds going on from one account to another I'm surprised I got any of it cleared up.
This mysterious American Express payment is about to drive me bonkers. I even called American Express and all they would tell me is that it was paid with a check. I'm assuming that means a paper check as opposed to an electronic payment. Since neither of my two checking accounts were the source of those funds, I can assume it has to be a cash advance check on a credit card. Which means I'm not done reconciling yet or I would have found it.
Sigh. Isn't this how we all love to spend our precious weekend time?
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Songs From My Head
I find Christmas music rather annoying in December. When I have a song stuck in my head in May, well.... you can only imagine the frustration.
Happy Cinco de Mayo! This should clear out my head and get me primed for some tequila and beer.
Happy Cinco de Mayo! This should clear out my head and get me primed for some tequila and beer.
Friday, May 04, 2007
Friday Pussy Blog
Rebecca sent me this week's pussy entry, and I'm so pleased because after a frenzied week at work, sometimes the last thing I want to do is grab the camera and go on a shooting spree. Well, I might want to go on a shooting spree, but not with a camera. Anyhoo, now that I have the attention of the FBI and the CIA, let's get down to business.
Rebecca's comment to caption the photo:
I mentioned I was going to practice and so the cats sat at my piano until I finally did!
Actually, Rebecca's subject line ("mine won't play, they just like to listen") stirred up some memories. A couple of years ago I bought txrad a guitar for his birthday. It was right after he'd cut off a small tip of his finger while slicing veggies for the pizza (I now do that job) and he couldn't play, so I played, or tried to. I would sit on the edge of the bed with the guitar and my old gal Jezebel would jump up there and sit beside me. She enjoyed it. Cats are capable of such flattery when they want to.
This reminds me, a while back, Rebecca added some artistic flair to one of my photos of Jezebel, so I'll share that with you now. Like Lebowski's rug, it sorta ties the room together.
Rebecca's comment to caption the photo:
I mentioned I was going to practice and so the cats sat at my piano until I finally did!
Actually, Rebecca's subject line ("mine won't play, they just like to listen") stirred up some memories. A couple of years ago I bought txrad a guitar for his birthday. It was right after he'd cut off a small tip of his finger while slicing veggies for the pizza (I now do that job) and he couldn't play, so I played, or tried to. I would sit on the edge of the bed with the guitar and my old gal Jezebel would jump up there and sit beside me. She enjoyed it. Cats are capable of such flattery when they want to.
This reminds me, a while back, Rebecca added some artistic flair to one of my photos of Jezebel, so I'll share that with you now. Like Lebowski's rug, it sorta ties the room together.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Greasy Dicks
We all know how to grease our own dicks, but shit.
txrad came up with this.
{bleep} Airlines threw a picnic at our agency today so people making damn good money can eat a free meal. Why not do that for the homeless?
What? Bad press?
I just went down for a free Coke and ate my leftover pizza.
txrad came up with this.
{bleep} Airlines threw a picnic at our agency today so people making damn good money can eat a free meal. Why not do that for the homeless?
What? Bad press?
I just went down for a free Coke and ate my leftover pizza.
The Denim Demon
I have more thoughts to share regarding dress codes, so consider this part 2 in an unexpected series.
+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+
Epilogue: txrad just told me to zip up my pants. I said "I don't zip them up because we're drinking so much beer and tequila I have to pee often. And I don't want to zip my pecker."
"Put on some underwear," he replied.
My retort was, "I don't want to wear underwear; I'm home, I should be able to relax."
He then went on to insinuate that I end up peeing on myself because I'm not wearing underpants.
"No I don't," I said. I use a piece of tissue to dry myself.
He thought that was strange. "Why is it more strange than allowing your underwear to act as a piss wick?" I replied. "Pissy underwear is OK, but pissy pants are not?"
All he could say was, "I'm telling your mother."
And I was thinking, "Go ahead; she knows I'm odd."
Crossposted at B3
konagod's views on dress codes in the office date back to 1962.
I hate to come across as crass, but civilization is fucked up.I remember back when I was a preteen, and on into my teen years, when visiting New Orleans with my parents, we always went to a few restaurants which had one of those requirements for a jacket on men. I thought it was bullshit at an early age so imagine what I think about it now.
It's about a bunch of fucking well-to-do white men and women who don't want their dinner spoiled by someone wearing less than THEIR ideal attire. So, although I'm paying the same prices for SERVICE and the same food, I am required to rise to their "level" in order to preserve THEIR snobbishness. Even if I'm dining in a borrowed jacket. Yep, that's right folks. The restaurants maintained an extensive closet full of jackets of all sizes to make sure everyone conformed. Pardon my crude language, but fuck that shit. And fuck all those people who play the game, and fuck those restaurants. You want me to pay you to eat your food (Brennan’s) I'll wear what I fucking please.
----
Back when I used to work for another ad agency based in Iowa, I was fortunate in that I worked from home, but I still had to visit the Iowa office once a year or so. And of course I'd be in the email loop of all things going on internally.
The office was located in a small town in a building which could easily have been -- and probably was used as -- a warehouse at some point. The dress code was casual, except when a client would visit. An email would go out reminding employees to clean up their areas and to dress appropriately. "No denim of any color" was always part of the request.
Help me here. Since when did denim become demonized? I always wondered what would happen if the client had happened to be Levi Strauss. Don't you know some things would be worded differently?
Denim is 100% cotton. And it's comfortable. I guess Dockers are also 100% cotton, and of course there's various other pants available that are all cotton or some combination. Who are these fashion police and where do they get off dictating what's acceptable and what's not? Had I been in Iowa for those client visits, I could have chosen to defy orders and worn a nice new pair of denim jeans, or put on a faded and worn-out pair of Dockers. Which looks best?
I know I'm stirring up trouble here, and I do understand the point, however illogical and stupid I believe it to be. I'm a firm believer in being yourself -- and that includes how you choose to adorn yourself with cloth. If you enjoy wrapping a piece of cloth around your neck (which serves no purpose and the cost of which could probably feed a meal to a few families in poverty) and letting it dangle, and then topping it off with a dark jacket, even though it might be 106 degrees outside (41 for my friends in the rest of the world -- we're a little backwards here in the States), then go right ahead. Don't mind me if I laugh at you.
I simply don't like people who are happy about putting on a false facade with attire. Notice how I phrased that statement. I don't want anyone to get offended because you think I won't like you, or think less of you, because you wear dressy clothes. As one or two people made clear in comments, they may work in a place where they are required to dress a certain way. Most people probably need the job. That's fine. Do it and be unhappy with the attire. But challenge it when you have the opportunity. Just be aware that many of these employers can outsource your job to another country at the drop of a hat if they feel it will improve their profits and not jeopardize the company. Most of these corporate employers don't give a crap about YOU personally. You are there as a servant, presenting an image THEY want for THEIR company, and you are simply paid to comply. I often get the impression that job performance is an afterthought; your image is of paramount importance.
Similarly, if you truly enjoy wearing a suit and a tie, or you are more comfortable in "business casual" attire while on the job, more power to you. I won't think less of you if I know it's your choice. I may think you are nuts for wearing a suit in Austin in the summer, but I won't think less of you if you truly enjoy it, because that's you.
As for me, I just want to be who I am. I want to be recognized and judged by what I accomplish on the job. For someone to make an issue of my attire -- particularly in a wild & crazy creative environment such as the one I'm in, is rather insulting if I'm doing my job and achieving success for both the client and the agency.
Another of my all-time favorites is the church routine. Like Jesus cares whether you are wearing a suit and a tie and that's going to get you into heaven. Give me a break.
+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+
Epilogue: txrad just told me to zip up my pants. I said "I don't zip them up because we're drinking so much beer and tequila I have to pee often. And I don't want to zip my pecker."
"Put on some underwear," he replied.
My retort was, "I don't want to wear underwear; I'm home, I should be able to relax."
He then went on to insinuate that I end up peeing on myself because I'm not wearing underpants.
"No I don't," I said. I use a piece of tissue to dry myself.
He thought that was strange. "Why is it more strange than allowing your underwear to act as a piss wick?" I replied. "Pissy underwear is OK, but pissy pants are not?"
All he could say was, "I'm telling your mother."
And I was thinking, "Go ahead; she knows I'm odd."
Crossposted at B3
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
a troubled nation
so I must play troubled music.
Let's talk about packaging. txrad just old me that Whole Foods Market is selling chopped onions in plastic containers for at least a couple of bucks. And as txrad said, "The packaging is probably worth more than the product."
And I said, "Yes, but the markup is HUGE." Because Americans are a bunch of lazy fucks.
How many of the people reading my blog know how to chop a fucking 75-cent onion?
And that's retail. Which brings me to the next question: "What fucking idiot ASSHOLE pays that much for an ONION?"
How many of you look at your grocery prices? Lately?
And, more importantly, are you prepared, at some point in the future, to start bitching about it.
And by bitching, I don't mean frothing off at the mouth. I mean taking that mean nasty shit to the STREETS?
Let's talk about packaging. txrad just old me that Whole Foods Market is selling chopped onions in plastic containers for at least a couple of bucks. And as txrad said, "The packaging is probably worth more than the product."
And I said, "Yes, but the markup is HUGE." Because Americans are a bunch of lazy fucks.
How many of the people reading my blog know how to chop a fucking 75-cent onion?
And that's retail. Which brings me to the next question: "What fucking idiot ASSHOLE pays that much for an ONION?"
How many of you look at your grocery prices? Lately?
And, more importantly, are you prepared, at some point in the future, to start bitching about it.
And by bitching, I don't mean frothing off at the mouth. I mean taking that mean nasty shit to the STREETS?
So, Do You Have a Girlfriend?
As a gay man I hated that question.
txrad and I are discussing a co-worker we suspect might me gay (probably), and txrad wants to ask him if he has a girlfriend. I think that is the worst possible question if you are trying to determine someone's sexual orientation.
I would suggest asking him if he has a boyfriend. Then, if he's gay, he won't be offended. And if he's straight, he'll learn how the rest of us deal with stupid personal questions.
What do you think?
txrad and I are discussing a co-worker we suspect might me gay (probably), and txrad wants to ask him if he has a girlfriend. I think that is the worst possible question if you are trying to determine someone's sexual orientation.
I would suggest asking him if he has a boyfriend. Then, if he's gay, he won't be offended. And if he's straight, he'll learn how the rest of us deal with stupid personal questions.
What do you think?
A Blast From The Past
In 1992 Wilbur Mills (Representative-D-AR) died on this day. He was romatically involved with Fanne Foxe. Anyone remember that? There used to be a freeway in Little Rock named in his honor. I know it was I-630 but I can't find any reference to it now after doing a search. Anyone have any ideas? Did they take it back?
No birthdays I could find for today. And my brain is rather spent after an extremely frustrating day at the orifice.
But hey, at least tomorrow I'm back to wearing shorts and being myself.
Oh, before I forget, J. Edgar Hoover also died on this day. Speaking of attire.....
"What is that? I know what that is... that's music!"
"What kind of a man are you?"
"What do you want to do with your life?"
What strikes me as odd is that Sarah Jessica Parker looked EXACTLY like Dee Snyder in the old episode of Sex and the City we watched last night.
Crossposted at the 2 Big Hairy Ones.
No birthdays I could find for today. And my brain is rather spent after an extremely frustrating day at the orifice.
But hey, at least tomorrow I'm back to wearing shorts and being myself.
Oh, before I forget, J. Edgar Hoover also died on this day. Speaking of attire.....
"What is that? I know what that is... that's music!"
"What kind of a man are you?"
"What do you want to do with your life?"
What strikes me as odd is that Sarah Jessica Parker looked EXACTLY like Dee Snyder in the old episode of Sex and the City we watched last night.
Crossposted at the 2 Big Hairy Ones.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
No Dress Codes Please, We're Hippies
I have a long history with an aversion to dress codes. I simply have no use for them outside of uniform dress codes for officers of the law (although some of those are over-the-top), airline pilots (we need to identify them because we sure as hell don't want them dressing like ordinary Americans -- a terrorist could be flying the plane!) and trained chefs.
I do not understand the infatuation with cloth and the symbolic underpinnings. I still maintain it's an archaic idea rooted in class distinctions -- to determine who in society is acceptable vs. not acceptable. God forbid we place what's in a person's brain ahead of what garments they wear.
And I really go batshit over sexist dress codes such as earrings being OK on women but not on men. And pantyhose. Yuck. Who on earth thinks it's their business to dictate that a woman must wear a dress and hose!
I was once fired from a job because I wore an orange shirt. Or so the story goes. I worked in a health care environment, but in a back office with no public exposure. One day some higher-ups from the corporate office came by for a surprise visit (suits) and shortly after that I was let go, despite the fact that I enjoyed what I did, I did it well, and I got along great with my co-workers (who were also casual, but wore more earth tones and muted colors). It was bullshit and I knew it.
One of the reasons I love my job is because it's a creative environment and it's casual. I wear shorts to work most days. I don't wear Lycra® running shorts, or swimwear. So no need to quibble over gray areas about what's appropriate in a work environment. No one can determine the size of my penis from what I wear. And for those curious (you sick perverts!), I wear cargo shorts most of the time.
Yesterday an email went out to all employees from one of the head honchos about a client visit today and tomorrow. Obviously I'm not going to name the client but it's a name you'd all recognize, most likely. The person writing the email explained the importance of this client visit -- our agency has recently lost a couple of high-profile clients and we're really banking on a couple of replacement clients -- and how we need to impress their board of directors. The email finished with a request that everyone make an effort to wear "business casual" attire for the next two days, and to arrive at work earlier than the usual 9-10 routine.
txrad and I get there usually around 7:00am so that's never an issue for us. I put on a very nice unique shirt and a pair of dark charcoal jeans today and headed off to work.
Some of the employees with whom I have regular contact were definitely dressed up more today, while others were less obvious. Some made no change at all. We had our department meeting this morning and the issue came up in the meeting.
Our boss remarked about the email and proceeded to suggest that not only was it a good idea, but that our department in particular should be more dressed up because the nicest conference room, one which is utilized frequently for client visits, is located on our floor and therefore we're more visible to clients. Never mind that the clients must somehow get from the first floor to the third without encountering other employees who might be more casual.
Then he made some reference to the creative folks in our department who work in production and said something to the effect that creative people get a free pass when it comes to dressing, but the rest of us are held to a higher standard, with a reference to flip-flops thrown in.
Oh, please. Now I've seen some people around there wearing shorts and flip-flops but I actually do wear shoes. I have no problem with flip-flops, but they just don't work for me if I'm climbing two flights of stairs several times a day.
He insinuated that any of us might get called into a client meeting when clients are visiting and therefore, according to his logic, we need to dress prepared.
This is just great. I work my ass off. I'm personally handling about 25% of an entire media campaign for a huge telecommunications giant (no names here, but imagine a blue orb), and I'm being told what to wear. My mama could get by with that when I was 4-years-old (well, not really; I'd strip naked and go play in the yard, but that's another post), but I'm generating a huge amount of revenue and profit for this agency; I'd at least like a little respect as far as putting my professionalism ahead of something superficial such as what I choose to cover up my private parts. And don't give me any shit about respect being a two-way street. This is about a double-standard, among other things, and it's just absurd.
After tomorrow, I'm back to wearing shorts again. And if the boss doesn't like it, he can hire someone else, and probably won't find anyone as remotely capable as I am, they'll command the same salary, but I suppose he'll be happy because what they are wearing is more important than the work they actually do.
This is a creative environment. We should praise people for being themselves, for being creative, for being comfortable, and for doing a kick-ass job. It has obviously worked up until now or the agency wouldn't be there, and it sure as hell wouldn't be a major player in the world of ad agencies.
I am not going to allow fashion, and the ugly remnants of class distinctions, to shape me into the appearance of something I'm not. I'm me. You are getting your money's worth and plenty more. You don't like it? Then downgrade.
This position I fell into was plan B of a life-change scenario I was facing as of January 2, 2007. I'm quite happy with it. But I am not afraid to switch back to plan A if some asshole wants to give a swatch of fabric more credit than my 17 years of expertise and professionalism.
Crossposted at B3
I do not understand the infatuation with cloth and the symbolic underpinnings. I still maintain it's an archaic idea rooted in class distinctions -- to determine who in society is acceptable vs. not acceptable. God forbid we place what's in a person's brain ahead of what garments they wear.
And I really go batshit over sexist dress codes such as earrings being OK on women but not on men. And pantyhose. Yuck. Who on earth thinks it's their business to dictate that a woman must wear a dress and hose!
I was once fired from a job because I wore an orange shirt. Or so the story goes. I worked in a health care environment, but in a back office with no public exposure. One day some higher-ups from the corporate office came by for a surprise visit (suits) and shortly after that I was let go, despite the fact that I enjoyed what I did, I did it well, and I got along great with my co-workers (who were also casual, but wore more earth tones and muted colors). It was bullshit and I knew it.
One of the reasons I love my job is because it's a creative environment and it's casual. I wear shorts to work most days. I don't wear Lycra® running shorts, or swimwear. So no need to quibble over gray areas about what's appropriate in a work environment. No one can determine the size of my penis from what I wear. And for those curious (you sick perverts!), I wear cargo shorts most of the time.
Yesterday an email went out to all employees from one of the head honchos about a client visit today and tomorrow. Obviously I'm not going to name the client but it's a name you'd all recognize, most likely. The person writing the email explained the importance of this client visit -- our agency has recently lost a couple of high-profile clients and we're really banking on a couple of replacement clients -- and how we need to impress their board of directors. The email finished with a request that everyone make an effort to wear "business casual" attire for the next two days, and to arrive at work earlier than the usual 9-10 routine.
txrad and I get there usually around 7:00am so that's never an issue for us. I put on a very nice unique shirt and a pair of dark charcoal jeans today and headed off to work.
Some of the employees with whom I have regular contact were definitely dressed up more today, while others were less obvious. Some made no change at all. We had our department meeting this morning and the issue came up in the meeting.
Our boss remarked about the email and proceeded to suggest that not only was it a good idea, but that our department in particular should be more dressed up because the nicest conference room, one which is utilized frequently for client visits, is located on our floor and therefore we're more visible to clients. Never mind that the clients must somehow get from the first floor to the third without encountering other employees who might be more casual.
Then he made some reference to the creative folks in our department who work in production and said something to the effect that creative people get a free pass when it comes to dressing, but the rest of us are held to a higher standard, with a reference to flip-flops thrown in.
Oh, please. Now I've seen some people around there wearing shorts and flip-flops but I actually do wear shoes. I have no problem with flip-flops, but they just don't work for me if I'm climbing two flights of stairs several times a day.
He insinuated that any of us might get called into a client meeting when clients are visiting and therefore, according to his logic, we need to dress prepared.
This is just great. I work my ass off. I'm personally handling about 25% of an entire media campaign for a huge telecommunications giant (no names here, but imagine a blue orb), and I'm being told what to wear. My mama could get by with that when I was 4-years-old (well, not really; I'd strip naked and go play in the yard, but that's another post), but I'm generating a huge amount of revenue and profit for this agency; I'd at least like a little respect as far as putting my professionalism ahead of something superficial such as what I choose to cover up my private parts. And don't give me any shit about respect being a two-way street. This is about a double-standard, among other things, and it's just absurd.
After tomorrow, I'm back to wearing shorts again. And if the boss doesn't like it, he can hire someone else, and probably won't find anyone as remotely capable as I am, they'll command the same salary, but I suppose he'll be happy because what they are wearing is more important than the work they actually do.
This is a creative environment. We should praise people for being themselves, for being creative, for being comfortable, and for doing a kick-ass job. It has obviously worked up until now or the agency wouldn't be there, and it sure as hell wouldn't be a major player in the world of ad agencies.
I am not going to allow fashion, and the ugly remnants of class distinctions, to shape me into the appearance of something I'm not. I'm me. You are getting your money's worth and plenty more. You don't like it? Then downgrade.
This position I fell into was plan B of a life-change scenario I was facing as of January 2, 2007. I'm quite happy with it. But I am not afraid to switch back to plan A if some asshole wants to give a swatch of fabric more credit than my 17 years of expertise and professionalism.
Crossposted at B3
RIP Tommy Newsom
“He died of natural dullness.”
From Johnny Carson, joking decades ago about a possible obit for Tommy Newsom.
I used to love the jabs Johnny would deliver to Tommy back in the 70s. The Tonight Show was probably my first visual exposure to jazz, and I'll never forget it.
“It was a lust,” he said, referring to his infatuation with music as a teenager in an interview with The Los Angeles Times in 1992. “I had to do it.”
I love anyone who admits to a "lust" for music.
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