tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285043582024-03-24T04:21:42.996-05:00konagodFriðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.comBlogger3131125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-82688525783280337622023-08-06T09:29:00.002-05:002023-08-06T09:29:32.599-05:00Sargon and Thalassa<p align="center">
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbjatx5Ce57Vu1R4ffVz6iMY5aEEx9k4h1cuHLkfphw36VCC6WQxRI9CQJhM1gCKUiUAg0OKUlRfX6GiO05vjDiMs-cyTCuTEEvANWh8qaadiFRexioOHlUVUsj1sVY_m7GLaU6-Wla05r4r5PSofiaIKEtgUUe3hSBf9-3e_nRBJSJo3aRsI/s2016/Sargon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbjatx5Ce57Vu1R4ffVz6iMY5aEEx9k4h1cuHLkfphw36VCC6WQxRI9CQJhM1gCKUiUAg0OKUlRfX6GiO05vjDiMs-cyTCuTEEvANWh8qaadiFRexioOHlUVUsj1sVY_m7GLaU6-Wla05r4r5PSofiaIKEtgUUe3hSBf9-3e_nRBJSJo3aRsI/s320/Sargon.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-52651871671763289172017-04-13T16:31:00.000-05:002017-04-13T16:37:23.472-05:00Tater Tot 2003 - 2017That line between life and death is such a strange place. While dealing with it seems to get easier, it's never easy. And when that line becomes a thin sliver it becomes more strange than painful. My orange boy seemed almost playful on the floor of the examination room at the vet's office. As I stroked him and caressed him the purring was intense. I swear I think he knew the end was near.<br />
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The doctor was very open and honest about it. This was her recommendation based on his low body temperature, his heavy breathing, and the lump in his abdominal area. And I knew this going in because I've seen it too many times before. His energy level since the past weekend was probably a tenth of what would be normal. (He did show a burst of resistance when I was trying to get him in the carrier. I guess he was holding enough in reserve to protest that most-loathed process.)</div>
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They took him to another room to prepare him for the injection and then brought him back to me for a final brief encounter. As much as I wanted to sit there and love on him all afternoon I knew there was no point in dragging it out. He was my boy and he knew it. He was comfortable with me there. </div>
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The first injection would simply make him sleep. And it literally did not take more than a few short seconds before he rested his head on his paw. The doctor asked if I wanted to spend more time with him and offered me a beeper I could use to summon her when I was ready. It was a nice gesture and I'm sure some people need that. I didn't. It was time to move forward with this. I wanted him to be set free of his pain and discomfort more than I wanted a few more sleeping minutes of his companionship.</div>
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"Go ahead," I said. "Let's do this."</div>
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This injection would stop his heart and his breathing. As she began the injection it backfired and sprayed both of us with the sticky pink death goo. She apologised profusely and went to fetch another syringe. I'm not sure it mattered. His breathing stopped just seconds later while my hand was still comforting him. She continued with the replacement syringe just to be sure the job was being done.</div>
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And that was that. All of my anxiety from the past few days was vanquished. I was still sad but relieved. The quiet drive home was vastly different. Even with four other cats in the house there is a strange void right now. That will dissipate as well.</div>
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I grabbed my gloves and a shovel and dug another in a series of holes in the ground. When I pulled his limp lifeless body from the carrier I was somewhat startled by what's left behind in the absence of life. Life is what drove that body for his 13+ years of robust existence. The connection we shared was evident when we had eye contact and that was driven by life as well. What was life just a short time earlier was now not life. The eyes which had been a passage were now just non-functioning eyes leading nowhere. How can anything so natural feel so strange? </div>
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I still have to detach myself from thought when I'm burying my companion of so many years. I have to become almost robotic. It's a job needing to be done and it's my job to get it completed. I did.<br />
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I loved my boy.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Tater Tot</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>March, 2012</b></span></div>
Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-73546579994612752692016-05-23T19:56:00.001-05:002016-05-23T19:56:50.102-05:0010 YearsIt was 10 years ago today when I started this blog. Why does it seem like 30 years?<div align="center">
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Whatever. I'll use any excuse for a party.</div>
Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-30763586566069745072013-10-27T19:12:00.000-05:002013-10-27T20:08:25.096-05:00Anatomy of a Record Collection<div style="text-align: left;">
For years I have thought about compiling a list in a spreadsheet of every record I currently own and including other interesting information such as the year it was released, the name of the producer, whether I own it on vinyl or compact disc, etc. I always thought it would be a monumental task. It wasn't so bad, actually. I only spent a few hours a day over a period of five days getting this job completed. The payoff takes only a few seconds after applying a pivot table to the data!<br />
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So, without further ado, here's a summary of the 1,000+ recordings.</div>
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<a href="http://s298.photobucket.com/user/konagod_2008/media/2cdvsvinyl.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo 2cdvsvinyl.jpg" border="0" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm250/konagod_2008/2cdvsvinyl.jpg" /></a><br />
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There are a scant few MP3s and some flexidisks taken from magazines which would take this up to 100%.<br /><br /><br /><br />The Producers:<br />
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<a href="http://s298.photobucket.com/user/konagod_2008/media/4producers.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo 4producers.jpg" border="0" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm250/konagod_2008/4producers.jpg" /></a><br />
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This is essentially a three-way tie. Steve Lillywhite isn't far behind. Sad to say but both of the Martins are now deceased. Martin Rushent went to the great studio in the sky earlier this year. So Hannett won't mind that his 2nd T got cut off.<br />
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<a href="http://s298.photobucket.com/user/konagod_2008/media/7Releasedate.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo 7Releasedate.jpg" border="0" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm250/konagod_2008/7Releasedate.jpg" /></a><br />
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This data would probably be vastly different if I had kept all the albums I purchased as a teen. However, the early 1980s were a great new era for me with punk/new wave stuff. I was a bit perplexed by 1995 showing up here but after investigating I realized this was largely due to my enthusiasm for jazz which began to blossom in the mid-90s.<br />
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And speaking of jazz. I have some older Bessie Smith from the 1920s on CD, but that was all part of a compilation pulled from different times and performances. I included this Stan Getz release because it was the oldest material I have that was ever released originally under this album title. Unfortunately I do not own it on vinyl.<br />
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<a href="http://s298.photobucket.com/user/konagod_2008/media/3country.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo 3country.jpg" border="0" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm250/konagod_2008/3country.jpg" /></a><br />
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I was a bit surprised by this. I expected the UK bands to edge out the US. But there are even greater surprises ahead.<br />
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While the US and UK artists comprise the vast majority of my collection, the #1 and #2 artists most represented in my collection by albums are Canadians! And as if that's not enough, the Canadian band Rush is about to get bumped into the #1 position as soon as I replace a few albums that I had as a teen and unloaded! Go Canada!<br />
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<a href="http://s298.photobucket.com/user/konagod_2008/media/5oldestvinyl.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo 5oldestvinyl.jpg" border="0" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm250/konagod_2008/5oldestvinyl.jpg" /></a><br />
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While Stan Getz gets the award for oldest recorded album, this is actually the oldest original vinyl I own. I would love to know how many parties this one serenaded in the late 50s! FIESTA!!<br />
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<a href="http://s298.photobucket.com/user/konagod_2008/media/1label.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo 1label.jpg" border="0" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm250/konagod_2008/1label.jpg" /></a><br />
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I guess I wasn't terribly surprised at the #1 record label represented in my collection. Some of the earliest albums I loved as a teen were on this label. And it just kept going... Jazz, rock, new wave, country, blues.<br />
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However, I have taken Frank Zappa up on his advice and not done a breakdown of my albums by genre. That's too damn hard and, frankly, it is a ridiculous exercise. It's music. If you love it, listen to it.<br />
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This post is dedicated to this guy.<br />
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Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-56655749978827759952013-06-28T13:10:00.000-05:002013-06-28T16:31:29.166-05:00Get The Funk Out My FaceI really do not know where to start. Maybe if the people had started a revolution in the streets in 2000 I would not now be at such a loss for words.<br />
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I've been in a major funk now for at least 6 months. By major funk I mean severe mood swings generally ranging from lethargy (i.e. not giving a fuck about anything) to morbid depression. As for the good moments, yes I do have a few. They tend to be short-lived, perhaps an hour here and there, unless you count the three hours in the evening when I am inebriated and even those are not always a joyous occasion. At least hard liquor is no longer a player in this game. It has been almost two months since vodka has passed my lips, and prior to that episode it had been a month. So, in three months there's been one bottle of vodka. At this point I guess I can rule that out as being a cause of this intense malaise.<br />
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There really is no clearly defined reason for this. I have a job. I work from home. I have decent benefits including health insurance, if you call a $5,000 deductible good health insurance. I do not. Basically any medical needs are out-of-pocket but I'm insured against a mild to major catastrophe should I happen to need medical services running in the $6,000 to $10,000 range, or $100,000 for that matter. Of course, with the next calendar year I'm back on the hook again with a $5,000 deductible. I guess the worst case scenario would be running up about $4,900 in medical bills every year which would be a truly fucked scenario. But I digress so let's not go there.<br />
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I do get thoroughly disgusted by politics. I was foolish enough to believe that if I could ever get through eight years of George W. Bush, everything would be better. In theory that might have been true. At least we didn't get McCain/Palin served to us in 2008. (I actually had to Google "2008 presidential election" because I was drawing a total blank on who the assholes were during that cycle.) But what we got was a black man. OK, so he's half black, but that's black enough for the knuckle draggers to get their panties all knotted up in their ass cracks. Honestly, an eight year cycle of blatant racism is not what I expected as a follow-up to the Bush terms. It never showed up on my radar because I thought, for the most part, we had moved beyond that like Paula Deen. I guess I was afflicted with SCOTUS syndrome before it became trendy.<br />
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Aside from that pesky little race thing, there have been a series of disappointments politically. I cannot quite fathom why there is such a divide in this country. Every election and opinion poll seems to be ridiculously close. The election of Scott Brown in Massachusetts threw me into a tizzy. Yeah, he served one term and yeah, he was defeated by Elizabeth Warren in 2012. That's what I would expect in Massachusetts. I grew up with the impression that Massachusetts was one of those liberal places. However, if a 54% to 46% victory is what defines a liberal place now after the glaring mistake of voting in Scott Brown, we're in some deep fucking shit.<br />
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It would be nice to claim it as an aberration but the most recent victory by Democrat Ed Markey over Republican Gabriel Gomez was 55% to 45%. It matters not to me whether all eligible voters would have made this a more decisive victory, and it probably wouldn't have. But the fact is, here we are in 2013 and it's tough to find any issue where there isn't a 55/45 split, or closer. Hell, 5-4 decisions by the Supreme Court have become about as predictable as a murder in Chicago. I guess that's just where we are. That just seems absurdly close to me, given the issues and the records of the candidates. Perhaps Texas isn't so bad after all given the fact that Governor Rick Perry was elected in 2010 with only 55% percent of the vote. Of course, I guess that's generous considering what a egregious despicable fuckwad he is. <br />
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The problem seems to be the stupid white people. Exit Polls showed Perry winning whites by 71% to 29%, and losing the African Americans vote by 88% to 12% and Latinos 61% to
38%. Why any white person would claim to be superior to others, or being God's chosen race is beyond my comprehension. Let's be honest here: most white people, and specifically most white voters, don't exactly fill my coffers with a lot of hope. Those are overwhelmingly the so-called "swing voters" who can't quite make up their fucking minds just <i>what</i> they are besides fickle and stupid.<br />
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As much as I love to fantasize about moving away from Texas for the sake of my sanity, it really is a tough call when deciding where I would go. Sure, we have this <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/06/27/rick-perry-wendy-davis_n_3510844.html">Asshole</a> with good hair here posing as a governor and a bunch of silly pricks in the legislature who don't know the difference between a time stamp and a rape kit. Sure, our <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/06/26/kimberly-mccarthy-executed-texas-500-execution_n_3506550.html">fucking prick condones murder</a> but have you checked out governors in places like Maine, Wisconsin, Florida and even New Jersey? (Yes, sorry to break the news but Chris Christie is a fucking asshole.) Let's not overlook Ohio and Virginia. Ken Cuccinelli can <a href="http://www.motherjones.com/mojo/2013/06/ken-cuccinelli-virginia-oral-anal-sex-sodomy">suck my ass.</a> Yeah, like I'm gonna go to the trouble to pack up everything I own just to get away from here so I can be there and endure <i>that</i>.<br />
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No matter where I go, I will also know that my rants against whomever are being gathered up by the NSA/PRISM clusterfuck for safekeeping. I can't imagine anyone in the Obama Administration deciding to personally let Governor Prick know that I think he has shit for brains. But if they do, so be it. Last time I checked we still have free speech rights in this country, as long as I don't interpret my speech rights to mean I can take some chalk down to the local Bank of Fucking America and give them a graphic piece of my mind on their cement slab. Or the Fucking Bank of America for that matter.<br />
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If I could live anywhere in the US (and technically I could), it's a really tough call figuring out where now that politics have become so intolerable in so many places. Despite my profanity-laced diatribe, I don't want you to think I attribute all of my malaise purely on politics.<br />
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Last year during 10 months of unemployment I did a lot of religious soul-searching and came to the conclusion that I am, and have been for decades, a Buddhist. And one thing that Buddhism taught me (and I'm paraphrasing here just a bit) is that all of this rampant bullshit stupidity is but a fleeting nanosecond on the great celestial clock. The system is rigged and I can't change it by myself. And if enough people aren't willing to listen and act, then fuck it with a bean pole. I'm 53 years old. If the future has a pocket to pick, it's with those who are 18-35 who still have about 30-45 more years of this shit to live with before facing whatever fucking passes as retirement when that time rolls around. Jesus, I sound like one of those fucked up <a href="http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2013/06/27/burma-s-rohingya-muslims-targeted-by-buddhist-mob-violence.html">newfangled Myanmar Buddhists</a> but seriously, I'm not violent; I'm just fed the fuck up.<br />
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I should count all my blessings. The good news is I'm a white man. I'll probably never have to wait more
than 20 minutes to cast a ballot. The bad news is I don't even care
anymore. Give me some time away and I'll check back in when the white
man is playing second or third fiddle. And thank God I'm not a young woman. The idea of having to carry around a baby for 9 months, by law, after getting raped by an uncle, a brother, or a total stranger just does not sound very appealing to me. I'm made as hell because my life is going to be disrupted for one Monday afternoon in August thanks to a jury duty summons. I trust the system of justice in this country like I'd trust George Zimmerman with a handgun in colored town so pardon me if I seem un-American when it comes to my civic duties and all that shit. I'm not the right guy for it. Trust me, I know.<br />
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We don't have many politicians willing to go to <a href="http://www.motherjones.com/mojo/2013/06/peeing-during-filibusters-explained-wendy-davis">extreme effort</a> to do what is right to have a positive political impact and even then you can still get bulldozed over. Fuck, you can do the most amazing service to your country ever and still get 45% of voters in the next election wanting your sorry ass removed, assuming you are lucky enough to get 55% or even 50% who want to keep you in. It's fucked up.<br />
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Something else getting on my last nerve lately is Facebook. At the time I'm writing this post I'm at the threshold of 2 weeks since I have posted a status update. The longer I don't post the easier it is to not post. I certainly have not been off Facebook; I comment here and there on posts of other people, but I just haven't been in the mood to post anything of my own. And I can't seem to make the leap to shut it down because in all honesty I'd lose contact with some people who are important to me. I suppose I could always call them on the phone and talk live in real time but I have about as much use for a phone as I do a printed newspaper. So I guess that's out. Besides, I don't want to clutter up the NSA/PRISM database more than necessary. But then again, I'm a white guy so I probably have a <a href="http://colorlines.com/archives/2013/06/why_the_spying_scandal_is_a_serious_racial_justice_issue.html">lot less to worry about.</a><br />
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I should probably avoid Facebook altogether around all holidays both major and minor. Christmas, Independence Day, Thanksgiving, Flag Day, Memorial Day, Fathers Day, Armistice Day, you name it. The Borg collective kicks into high gear spending one day out of 365 to remember something or someone and then after that it's back to the bacon humor or whatever. Seriously. God herself didn't make these rules or set aside these days. We did. And it's pretty fucking stupid and arbitrary if you think about it. And if you think 80% of your Facebook friends whom you've never met give a shit what your dead mother looked like then you are delusional. And if you think it makes your dead mother proud then you have even bigger problems than I thought. Deviate from the herd: give her a shout out in the middle of October for no other reason than you were thinking of her. Maybe it won't get lost in all the motherloving frenzy of a marketing gimmick.<br />
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And this leads me to prayer. What is up with that shit? I'd rather do something constructive with my time like clip my toenails. I am no stranger to this religion stuff. As a child I was hauled to a church pew every Sunday. And my dad had been known to preach from the pulpit on occasion. But when I'd ask, as a child, why does God let people die in horrible accidents, I'd get the cop-out line that "God works in mysterious ways" or "We don't always understand why but God has a plan for those people."<br />
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So basically then, why the fuck waste time praying? God is busy. Let God do God's infinite business and stop with the fucking selfish interruptions. God isn't going to alter the outcome of your sports team's shitty performance. God isn't going to save you from burning in the inferno of an airplane (or Ferrari) stunt gone awry. God isn't going to breathe life into that dead cat you love so much and God sure as shit isn't going to bless your fucking corrupt nation. So get over yourselves. Can you imagine how it might impact OPEC if just the Southern Baptists stopped driving their SUVs to church on Sunday? If it's that important to you, walk to church! Like Jesus. You know, instead of walking 5 miles on that dumbass treadmill at the secular gym.<br />
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Of course there are good religious people out there and my rant is not directed at those people. I still don't get it but if it makes you feel good then do it. My beef is primarily with people who feel they can pray away teh gay and others of that ilk.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm250/konagod_2008/Valet.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="135" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm250/konagod_2008/Valet.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What the fuck does the valet have to do with anything??</td></tr>
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The past 8 weeks have probably done more to destroy my hope for the United States than anything in the last 12 years combined. And that's really saying something considering some of the good news out there. Everyday is either something new or more of the same bullshit. Maybe I'm just too sensitive but a big part of me knows it's just horribly wrong, unethical and immoral when my government is <a href="http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2013/06/27/atf-stash-houses-sting-usa-today-investigation/2457109/">creating crime</a> and popping people off on death row while screaming about the sanctity of life. This is all fucking nuts!<br />
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I think I need to go away to clear my head. Iceland comes to mind frequently. Hell, I'd even take Ecuador. But I'd want a direct route, not some bullshit detour through Hong Kong and the fucking <span class="st">Sheremetyevo</span> transit lounge in fucking Putinland, however nice it may be with the amenities and all. And it may take me quite a while to clear my head so can I just buy a one-way ticket for now and come back when the job is done or will that flag me for a fucking strip search and a DNA harvest at the airport?<br />
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This is all moot speculation. I don't even have a valid passport.<br />
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Happy Friday! Let the good times roll!<br />
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Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-23937081503502812602013-03-29T17:54:00.002-05:002013-03-29T17:54:21.910-05:00Good Friday Pussy Blog<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Sweet Pea</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">1999 - 3/29/2013</span></div>
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<a href="http://s55.photobucket.com/user/konagod/media/SweetPea-9.jpg.html" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo SweetPea-9.jpg" border="0" height="213" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/SweetPea-9.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
What a strange week it has been. Sweet Pea was his usual old self until a few days ago when I noticed he wasn't eating as much. Then a day or two later it was obvious he wasn't eating anything. On Wednesday Sheldon noticed he seemed weak and wobbled a bit when walking.<br />
<br />
We agreed he probably needed to see the vet. Sheldon made the call and brought the pet carrier out to the patio. Sweet Pea was curled up at the fence in the back of the yard. He seemed oddly nervous when I went to fetch him. In fact he tried to get away from me but I carried him to the patio and poked him into the carrier. He let out a very guttural protest -- a sound I would only hear him make when he had eaten something and was about to vomit, or when he had a live critter in his mouth.<br />
<br />
I really didn't think for a moment that it would be the last time I'd see him. But that's how it played out. Sweet Pea fell to the same liver/kidney failure that claims so many other cats including at least two of our previous felines. <br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://s55.photobucket.com/user/konagod/media/BigThumbs-1_zps1116cf98.jpg.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo BigThumbs-1_zps1116cf98.jpg" border="0" height="256" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/BigThumbs-1_zps1116cf98.jpg" width="400" /></a>
<br />
Sweet Pea and his two siblings were brought to our back patio by their mother. The mother lived across the street from us and I never knew her name. I just referred to her as Big Thumbs. She was a polydactyl with an extra toe on each of her front feet giving her the appearance of very large thumbs.<br />
<br />
There was Sweet Pea, the short-haired black cat; Coal Pot (on bottom in photo) was black with longer hair, and then Sissy the tortoiseshell. Sissy, named for the <a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.gay-sd.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/Even-Cowgirls-get-the-Blues.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.gay-sd.com/calendar-april-22-may-5/&h=325&w=627&sz=38&tbnid=_cYKFo2hZNofqM:&tbnh=90&tbnw=174&zoom=1&usg=__sD8JskJzxF1BQYcZN1Qv099AbPc=&docid=dM-ddSuWKSLqDM&sa=X&ei=YxBWUd3qNe250QGrsIHIBA&ved=0CEsQ9QEwBA&dur=3100">Sissy Hankshaw</a> character in Even Cowgirls Get The Blues, also inherited the big thumbs. Sissy was the only one of the three we kept inside the house. Coal Pot disappeared after perhaps a year.<br />
<br />
Sweet Pea has been a fixture in the back yard for so long I can hardly believe I won't be watching him strut across the yard as I sit at my desk working during the day. On a positive note I won't be having to run out on a lizard rescue mission every few days this summer. He had a nasty habit of catching lizards and bringing them to the patio in his mouth. I'd have to grab his neck sometimes to get him to release them and often they wouldn't even have a puncture wound. I won't miss those moments. The lizards can finally live in peace.<br />
<br />
I am convinced Sweet Pea, perhaps like all cats, was psychic. He was very skittish around strangers. A strange car pulling into the drive would raise all kinds of red flags with him in spite of the fence between the yard and the drive. And yet, if he was sleeping, I could go out the front door of the house and walk around to the back, open the gate and walk on up to the patio where he was sleeping without him even flinching or raising his head. Somehow he always knew it was me and not a stranger.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://s55.photobucket.com/user/konagod/media/SweetPea-1-1.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo SweetPea-1-1.jpg" border="0" height="428" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/SweetPea-1-1.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
He would always respond in some way when I'd say his name. Even when he was coiled up sleeping I could whisper his name and the white claws on his feet would extend along with a bit of paw curling. He also enjoyed it when I would grab his snout and rub up his face, across his ears and all the way down his back to his tail. One of my favorite things to do was to grab his face with my hand and shake his head vigorously while saying "Sweet Pea! I'm going to pinch your head off!" He actually enjoyed that.<br />
<br />
Once in awhile we'd allow him to come in the house in the evening for a few minutes. He'd walk around and check out everything and then was ready to go back out. Two or three times I took him to the master bedroom where Sissy lives so he could visit with his sister. Sissy is about ten times more skittish of just about everything. She despises Tater Tot and Jessie Lee and prefers solitude and being left alone. Allowing either of those cats in the bedroom would send her scurrying for a place to hide. Strangely enough, even though she hadn't been with Sweet Pea since they were kittens, she had no problems with his presence. I would even take Sweet Pea in there and place him on the bed with her and there would be no adverse reaction.<br />
<br />
This is my fourth cat to cross over to whatever comes after. Three of the four have timed it to happen around some memorable date. Jezebel was the first and had to be put down on Memorial Day. Samantha just expired in the house on some anonymous date that I don't specifically recall. Tiger took care of his own expiration last year by doing it on or just before my birthday, and now Sweet Pea exits on Good Friday which made it impossible for me not to... umm...resurrect the Friday Pussy Blog.<br /><br />So long, boy. I know you loved me and the feeling was mutual.<br />
<br />
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Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-65742260486797161102013-01-01T20:07:00.000-06:002013-01-01T20:07:21.527-06:002012 In My Rearview MirrorI still like these even if Joe thinks they are passé. However, my life is a bit more boring than Joe's.<br />
<br />
1. What did you do in 2012 that you’d never done before?<br />
<br />
Probably coming to terms with the fact that I'm more Buddhist than I am anything else in terms of religions. I've never been hellbent (pardon the expression) on religions and I seriously explored Judaism this year, but Buddhist is what I've always been, even when I didn't know it, or thought I had no religious slant. But I'm not in your face about it. It just is.<br />
<br />
2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?<br />
<br />
I've kind of given up for the most part. It's too hard for me to adhere to one single day to make a resolution. I need to ease into it. I did get a picture hung today which has sort of been a resolution off and on for 20+ years. <br />
<br />
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?<br />
<br />
Not that I know of.<br />
<br />
4. Did anyone close to you die?<br />
<br />
Lost a Facebook friend in April. And I'm kind of glad we had never met because it's so much easier to deal with when you remove that personal dimension.<br />
<br />
5. What places did you visit?<br />
<br />
Like travel? I didn't leave town unless you count Round Rock for an IKEA trip.<br /><br />
6. What would you like to have in 2013 that you lacked in 2012?<br />
<br />
I would like to have a job for the entire year.<br />
<br />
7. What dates from 2012 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?<br />
<br />
(a) Election Day because I never get what I want and this time I got a bonanza on so many different levels.<br /><br />(b) The day after Election Day, while I was enjoying my blissful state, I got a job offer which I accepted.<br /><br />
8. What was your biggest achievement(s) of the year?<br />
<br />
Probably getting about 25 books read while I was unemployed. I got reconnected with Buddhism and Eastern philosophy which helped eradicate a lost of depression I routinely experience.<br />
<br />
9. What was your biggest failure?<br />
<br />
I didn't stop smoking. I gave it the best run for the money ever, and for a few days I was down to 3 cigs a day. Then 3-5. This is the hardest thing to kick. <br />
<br />
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?<br />
<br />
None at all.<br />
<br />
11. What was the best thing you bought?<br />
<br />
Really happy I decided to get a Nikon D7000 camera. That was a great gift to myself.<br />
<br />
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?<br />
<br />
I have to quote Joe verbatim on this one: Chief Justice John Roberts. I may never agree with another decision
he makes in my entire life, but by casting the swing vote to uphold
Obamacare he quite literally changed tens of millions of American lives
for the better. Good on him.<br />
<br />
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?<br />
<br />
The leader of the NRA whose name I shall not speak. And pretty much anyone and everyone on the far right during the election year. <br />
<br />
14. Where did most of your money go?<br />
<br />
Beverages.<br />
<br />
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?<br />
<br />
I was really excited about reading books! And when my stereo amplifier when on the fritz I had to hook up my mid-80s tube amp in the interim and was blown the hell away by how great vinyl records sounded. And Elizabeth Warren beating Scott Brown. And the marijuana vote in Colorado and Washington. Buying a box set of every Blur LP.<br />
<br />
16. What song will always remind you of 2012?<br />
<br />
This is always a tough one because music is pretty timeless for me. And just because a song reminds me of 2012 doesn't necessarily mean I like the song. But Gotye's "Somebody That I Used To Know" caught my attention during the start of the year when I was being laid off AND feeling like shit. So definitely that one.<br />
<br />
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:<br />
<br />
a) Happier or sadder?<br />
Happier. Definitely.<br />
b) thinner or fatter?<br />
About the same. Thin with a beer gut that needs to go away.<br />
c) richer or poorer?<br />
Richer. <br />
<br />
18. What do you wish you’d done more of?<br />
<br />
For some reason I can only think of things I wish I'd done less of. Sorry!<br />
<br />
19. What do you wish you’d done less of?<br />
<br />
Oh fuck. I didn't see this coming. Just go back to #9.<br />
<br />
20. How did you spend Christmas this year?<br />
<br />
Lunch with my neighbors and their family. It was lovely. Then an evening at home.<br />
<br />
21. Did you fall in love in 2012?<br />
<br />
With more music.<br />
<br />
22. How was work?<br />
<br />
Considering I didn't work between 13th January and 8th November it was great! But it's been even better now that I've started back again. I'm getting my mojo back again. <br />
<br />
23. What was your favorite TV program?<br />
<br />
Just whatever. Home improvement shows and cooking shows. (I am going to miss No Reservations.) <br />
<br />
24. What did you do for your birthday in 2012?<br />
<br />
Nothing much. Read a book. Probably went out for lunch.<br />
<br />
25. What was the best book you read?<br />
<br />
Mercy. I can't begin to tell you. I enjoyed the hell out of Alan Watts. And a D.T. Suzuki book called "Zen and Japanese Culture."<br />
<br />
26. What was your greatest musical discovery?<br />
<br />
Blur and Gorillaz. I totally fell in love with Gorillaz and then Damon Albarn and then started working my way back thru the Blur discography. Got their box set on vinyl and have had a blast with it. It takes me so many different directions and levels. So many great influences that sometimes come through the music in abundance. I've had whiplash on a number of occasions.<br />
<br />
27. What did you want and get?<br />
<br />
Lots of things. If I want something I usually find a way to get it. I guess the biggie was the camera.<br />
<br />
28. What did you want and not get?<br />
<br />
Toyed with the idea of a turntable upgrade and a newer model tube amp but that can wait. There ain't nothing wrong with what I've got.<br />
<br />
29. What was your favorite film of this year?<br />
<br />
Didn't see one that was released this year. Not one.<br />
<br />
30. Did you make some new friends this year?<br />
<br />
Surprisingly enough, yes. Mika and Jen who are living next door to us, renting rooms from our neighbors. We had lunch with them today!<br />
<br />
31. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?<br />
<br />
Being 27 again.<br />
<br />
32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2012?<br />
<br />
Cargo shorts with hiking boots.<br />
<br />
33. What kept you sane?<br />
<br />
Walking when it was warm. Playing music when it wasn't, and sometimes playing music when it was. <br />
<br />
34. What political issue stirred you the most?<br />
<br />
I can't really disagree with Joe on this one either, so I quote: Guns. I could say the election or the bullshit around the fiscal
cliff, but no, guns. With each gun massacre it seems the fuckhead gun
apologists double down. People come out of the woodwork to explain how
guns aren't the problem, that gun control can't work, that guns have
nothing to do with gun massacres. FUCK guns.<br /><br />Yeah, that's about it. I was so depressed about Sandy Hook I damn nearly deleted by Facebook page, and I felt the need to unfriend a couple of people just so I wouldn't see their incessant pro-gun posts.<br />
<br />
35. What political issue stirred you the least?<br />
<br />
Again Joe nailed this one: Benghazi. I wish a permanent case of herpes on each and every
Republican liar who tried to turn this unfortunate event into a
political scandal. They should be utterly ashamed of themselves.
Disgusting people.<br />
<br />
36. Best sports moment?<br />
<br />
Seeing the Razorbacks fire their good coach because of some infidelity and then go on to have a horrendous losing season, getting beaten by some embarrassing teams. There was a lesson to be learned here.<br />
<br />
<br />
37. Who was the best new person you met?<br />
<br />
I don't think I met any new people besides Mika and Jen. See #30. I don't get out much.<br />
<br />
<br />
38. Burn any bridges?<br />
<br />
I try not to. Some bridges do need to be burned though.<br />
<br />
39. Best new restaurant you went to?<br />
<br />
Cafe Malta for Sheldon's birthday. We just don't go to places like this often. It wasn't fancy. In fact it was rustic in a European way, and tucked inside a strip mall in south Austin. But I was so taken with the place that I ordered an appetizer AND a dessert, AND coffee. And it was divine.<br />
<br />
40. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2012.<br /><br />Easy. Don't allow work to rule your life. It's OK to do a good job and not allow it to consume you or extend into your personal life. There's no reason to feel guilt for that.Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-51588091326055569842012-12-31T14:35:00.000-06:002012-12-31T14:38:07.459-06:00Rejoice! We're All Gonna Die And Most Of Us Won't Be Young Or Pretty<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
For the past two years or so I've been undergoing some
morbid grappling with mortality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Often I
am observing a family with children in a restaurant and I will begin to see the
children maturing and becoming adults and eventually old and dying after their
parents have long since passed on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some
of this could be triggered by my own identification with the children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have vivid memories of my parents taking me
to great restaurants -- particularly in New Orleans, and I wonder if anyone
then was observing me with the same realization that someday I'd be a man in my
fifties rather than a child of five.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thirty years ago on December 30th my father ceased to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is really difficult to imagine
30 years passing so quickly given that it simply ticked away moment by moment
in a steady clip as time always does consistently and without fail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think of everything I have done and
experienced in that time and it is mind-boggling to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is truly a lifetime ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes I look at life as being comprised
of several lifetimes.<br />
<br />
There's the lifetime as a baby and a toddler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was here and alive but there's nothing much about it I remember.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was no concern for anything nor was
there a concept of time ticking away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then as memories started to gel into strings of events another lifetime began.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From about 4 or 5 I became
more aware of my environment, learning the meaning of more words, learning how
not to choke on hard candy, realizing how much I really disliked church, always
looking forward to Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, and a tooth falling out so
I would be visited by the tooth fairy.<br />
<br />
I don't remember my first day of kindergarten nor would my developing mind have
understood the point of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don't
recall any sense of anxiety about the new experience or being separated from my
parents for a few hours a day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was an
important first step in learning how to behave and in the development of social
skills (and look how THAT turned out!) I suppose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was mostly just fun although I have
absolutely no recollection of any other children there on a personal friendship
level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's almost as if they were
abstractions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was more fascinated by
the mentally-challenged woman who was charged with placing out cookies for us
to eat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember my towel I would roll out on the floor when it was quiet time and we were to stretch out and shut
the fuck up for a few minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think I
enjoyed that part.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Early developmental
chillaxing.<br />
<br />
The lifetime of being schooled was definitely a kicker.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is hard for me to fathom how 11 years from
first grade to being a high school senior could seem to take so long to pass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Initially I wasn't even looking ahead to high
school graduation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That might as well
have been a century in the future.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Starting out it was just one year at a time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Getting on the school bus in the morning,
writing out ABCs and learning to count and whatever the hell else we did in
first grade (for me it was drawing pictures of body parts), and then back on
the school bus to come home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Get up the
next morning and repeat.<br />
<br />
By the time I was in third or fourth grade the reality was starting to settle
in that this was going to be one slow slog getting finished with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can imagine having asked my mother when will I no
longer have to go to school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If she had
said after the 12th grade I at least had learned to count the different between
4th and 12th and it seemed like one hell of a duration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The older I got the longer it seemed.<br />
<br />
Finally 9th grade rolled around and this was the home stretch:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>four to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How in the hell four years could seem to pass so slowly is beyond my
comprehension.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Contrast this with the
last four which seem to have flown by in an instant.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>High school was like a lifetime within a
lifetime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Somewhere in that mix was a realization that I was on the
verge of becoming an adult.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thoughts of
leaving home and starting a new life were forming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Choices of college and fields of study were
contemplated as well as career options.<br />
<br />
Packing most of my treasured belongings into a car and heading off to college
was probably another lifetime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Four
years to be devoted to advanced study seemed as eternal as those four years of
high school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But there was a big
difference:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was now in control of the
situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could take those four years
and stretch them out to eight if I wanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And apparently I wanted.<br />
<br />
Fields of study were embarked upon and discarded, swapped out for something else,
and discarded again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But hey, if you
stay at it long enough you'll eventually get a degree in something just by
default.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was only 22 years old on December 30, 1982 when I received
the phone call from a nurse at the hospital informing me that I needed to come
to the hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It never crossed my
mind to ask why.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was probably the first major lesson in
life I would learn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I walked into
the hospital room there was this moment of intense clarity that only one other
living person was in the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was
my mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pile of flesh on the bed
was nothing but a corpse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was no
life in it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I will never forget that
odd vibe in the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The man who had
been my father was no more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That
lifeless body was not him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn't know
where he was but he wasn't there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is startling to me to reflect back on that day as if it
happened a month ago and realize just how much time has passed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had only recently become the owner of a
SONY Betamax video player/recorder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
order to use it I had to go to a store and buy or rent media.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would never have occurred to me to take a
picture of it to share with friends because that would involve sending off the
film to be developed, and then sending photos through the mail to whomever I
wanted to see it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yeah.<br />
<br />
I was very much aware that the future held great promise and that technology
would unfold in marvelous ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
was already talk about these things called compact discs which would replace
vinyl platters and turntables. (And much, much later there would be talk of replacing compact discs with vinyl records and turntables, but I digress.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The year 2000 was something I pondered a lot ever since I
was a child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was thrilling to
fantasize about that futuristic world even though I was always aware that I
would turn 40 that year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That fact was
disturbing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It meant I'd be old, and
probably too old to enjoy the marvels of the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
There was a lot going on with me in the decade of the 80s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even at 22 I had no idea what I was going to
do with my life, what career I would pursue, whether or not I'd ever find love,
or how I was going to cope with this persistent homosexuality lurking in my
core.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The following summer after my
father died I packed my bags and moved to London.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never gave a thought to my widowed mother
or whether she might need me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
being called to my next lifetime.<br />
<br />
Living alone on another continent with an ocean between me and my past was
exactly what I needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I came to terms
with being gay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I scored a lot of music
on vinyl and compact disc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I bought my
first truly high-fidelity music system at the age of 24 and little did I know I
would still find myself thrilled with it at the age of 52.<br />
<br />
In 1985 I was back in the US and decided to wrap up this college education
thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was still clueless about what I
would do with my life but I at least wanted to put a degree in my pocket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn't care what degree it was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finally, in the summer of 1987, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took my last college course in British
history and made one of the very few A grades I'd ever earned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In January of 1988 I was handed a diploma.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On with life, whatever that meant.<br />
<br />
That was just a bit over six years after my father's body had been placed in
the cold ground on December 31, 1982.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That
seemed like a lifetime and the future was as blurry as ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the first time in my life there were no
guideposts for me, no benchmarks I could reach for, nor were there any job
prospects; there was just me and the wide open future.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Little did I know that another lifetime was
right around the corner in less than two years.<br />
<br />
I moved to Denver for a year and then moved to San Diego in 1990 where, within
a few short weeks of my arrival, I'd meet a man and fall in love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I'd move to Los Angeles in search of
some kind of job.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That's where I landed
in advertising at the ripe old age of thirty.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is the point where my concept of time took a bizarre
turn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I no longer seemed to have
one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt stable with a secure job and
a comfortable relationship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had I
suddenly "arrived?"<br />
<br />
Promotions and pay raises came quickly and I was totally focused on my career.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were some good upheavals along the way:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>buying our first home together, getting a
cat, and then within a year or so, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>selling the house, packing everything up and
moving to Austin after buying another house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><br />
<br />
All that dread I had about being 40 in the year 2000 suddenly and abruptly
became a reality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was one thing being
25 and feeling old because I was at the quarter-century mark, and it was quite
another being 40.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was horrendous for
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And thrown into that mix was a job
layoff which would become a decade of instability.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Job number 2 became job number 3, and then numbers
4, 5 and 6.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then it was
2010...another decade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And 50.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>50.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If
there's anything that can make you feel a fondness for 40 it's 50.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then came job #7 which wasn't an event out of my
control.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a choice I made.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm not sure whether getting laid off from #7 in January 2012 contributed to my current mentality or whether it's
just another element in a big pot of steaming soup called life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I suppose that 10 months of unemployment
in 2012 probably did me a world of good on one level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the longest break in employment I'd
ever had since entering advertising in 1997.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It gave me time to think about life.<br />
<br />
If my father dying when I was 22 and my realization that life can leave in an
instant was a watershed moment for me, then my studies of Eastern philosophy
this year were another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In all my years
of life I had never once stopped to think seriously about the source of
life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where do babies come from?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not from a stork, of course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Men and women have sex and if everything is
in good working order, a baby happens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
spark of life came from somewhere...God, the cosmos, maybe life is just a
continuous strand and doesn't really spark or emerge suddenly. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>But what I had never contemplated before is
that it comes from the earth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What you
eat and drink -- and both of those are pulled from the earth in some capacity
-- contribute to forming sperm and eggs, just as they are instrumental in
growing your bones, muscles, skin, teeth, and hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something that was once alive, maybe a peanut
butter and jelly sandwich, went into the formation of sperm and eggs which then
formed another life, and all of it pulled from this earth.<br />
<br />
And this earth was pulled and formed in a similar manner (and I hate to be the
bearer of bad news, but it was considerably longer than 6,000 years ago) by
whatever shit was out there drifting around the universe looking for a
purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Funny how that happens.<br />
<br />
What I find so incredibly frustrating is how I have to stay focused on facts
like these to keep from going totally insane about life and death and the crap
in between.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am bitterly angry (and
somewhat confused) by how my life has evolved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I'm not even sure I've been living between 1997 and now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It just seems like a bunch of shit involving
career obsession, what kind of cars to buy, or appliances, gadgets, phones,
radios, TVs, pods, pads, computers, wireless mice, sofas, chairs, tables,
plants, weather stations, backup drives, cameras, records, CDs, printers,
batteries, books, curling stones, shiva lingams, and a fucking shitload of
software.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I get frustrated sometimes just looking at people and how
they have aged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It almost seems like
some cruel joke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes I feel as if
I have awakened from a long coma and I simultaneously marvel at the world and
curse it. Sometimes it's not even a coma feeling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wake up from a nap and I'm not even sure
who or where I am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then I hear
Sheldon snoring in the other room and I'm not sure who he is either even though
we have lived together for 20 years. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is
he the same person?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Am I?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see photos of people on Facebook --
people I went to school with, or people I've known since I was in my 20s, and I
barely recognize them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone is
getting older.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the older we get the
more crap will be thrown at us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Older people
you've known your entire life suddenly start dying off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then people your age start dying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even a few younger people start dying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don't have a
clue how I got here or why this is happening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And that bitter anger serves no purpose either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I might as well bitch about the weather.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Same difference.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sometimes I just want to give up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes I want to try and recapture two
decades which seem lost in a haze of work and devotion to career.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, I can't recapture anything because
it's gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What's left of it, or what's
to come, depending on how you view it, is here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It should be
beautiful and right now I harbor contempt for it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Somewhere along the way I lost my awe of life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I find myself increasingly disgusted by
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm saddened that we can't stop all
the senseless killing and take a break just long enough to come together and
have a discussion about how magnificent our world could be if we could just
work on our potential.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How, in a life so short, can people be so hung up on
themselves, clinging to outdated beliefs, stockpiling weapons, being hell-bent
against helping out anyone less fortunate, spending lavishly on shit they won't
care about later, or eventually won't be alive to enjoy?<br />
<br />
Most people act as if they have no clue how fleeting life is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are absorbed in power games and
greed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are they really the ones in
denial or is it just me who is fucked up?<br />
<br />
For 2013 I need to figure some of this out and recapture the missing awe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because in the time it took me to get a
college degree I'll be the same age my father was when he ceased aging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don't want to be bitter about it, and I
sure as hell don't want to be looking back at 52 wishing I was here again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That ain't happening.<br />
<br />
I try really hard sometimes to be a good Buddhist and live in the moment and
only in the moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just can't sustain
it for more than...a... moment. It pisses me off knowing that I could lose track of time again and another 25 years will pass and I'll be 77, if I'm so lucky.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of the things that grounds me is knowing that in 50 or 60 short years, everyone reading this will either be a dead and distant memory, or about to start banging on death's door. The latter are the lucky ones who are 20 now and think they are immortal. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Perhaps this is just a mid-life crisis. I wouldn't know for sure because I've never had one. If it is, why can't I be normal about it and just go buy a fucking Porsche?<br />
<br />
OK, so who wants a cocktail? Happy New Year!</div>
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Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-46536559646759705202012-08-07T18:17:00.000-05:002012-08-07T18:17:40.551-05:00The Return of Vacuum Tube FidelityBack in 1984 (!) I purchased this amp and preamp combo in a Tottenham Court Road audio shop in London. It was really a top-of-the-line deal back then and I absolutely could not afford to be buying stuff like this. (That's why I used the AMEX card!)
I think the pair were around US$1,700 and I added a comparable pair of speakers which tacked on another $1,500. So it was a major purchase for me and one that I hoped would last a lifetime. (OK, being 24 years of age I really had no concept of what lifetime meant, but whatever.)<br />
<br />
Sometime in the very early 1990s in Los Angeles, there was a rather nasty electrical storm at our apartment and I was not using a surge protector (ahhh, stupid youth!) and one of the units got a part burned out.
Rather than having it repaired (which I assumed would cost a fortune) and knowing I didn't have the financial means at the time to replace it with equal quality, I opted to store it in the closet and buy something affordable which was an all-in-one SONY product for about $300. Since we were living in an apartment and I didn't feel I could blast music anyway, it didn't seem to matter.<br />
<br />
Twelve years passed until I finally convinced myself to start building up a top-notch audio system again. I splurged on a new English-made integrated amplifier and turntable. The total cost for both was about the same as what I paid for the amp/preamp combo twenty years earlier. I had a hunch the quality wouldn't be quite the same given that fact. I also didn't feel like I could splurge on high-end speakers yet, so the only listening I did was with headphones.<br />
<br />
Around 2006, a work colleague told me her husband had a friend who could probably repair my speakers and burned out amp. Even though I no longer needed them, he thought it would be very affordable to fix. I shipped two speakers, the amp and preamp out to California and waited a few months.
The verdict was that the speakers could not be repaired but he was able to repair the other units. And it only cost around $300.<br />
<br />
When the amp equipment arrived, I placed it back in storage. There's not even a headphone output and I still had no speakers!
So the status quo carried on until around 2009 or 2010 when I FINALLY decided on a pair of high-end speakers.
When they arrived I was eager to test my old 1984 vintage equipment. After getting everything set up there was no sound coming out. I thought that was odd considering the guy who repaired it told me it "sounds great." And why would he ship something back to me that really wasn't working. I convinced myself some part had jiggled loose during shipping, so I put it back in the closet.
It didn't matter really. My "new" (by 2010 the amp was 7-years-old) amp sounded great after finally being wired up to speakers!<br />
<br />
Awhile back I started hearing static in my system and sometimes one of the two channels of audio would drop out. Correcting it only requires a tap on the input selection knob on the amp but it is still rather annoying. Sometimes I have to do that 2 or 3 times each evening.
I've been rather stressed because I will have to box this up and ship it somewhere to be fixed. Apparently it's a common problem as I learned from internet research. I could live for a couple of weeks with playing television audio through the tinny little speakers on the TV, but I wasn't sure I could live without music options.<br />
<br />
This morning I decided to drag out the 1984 equipment, hook it up, and just be certain it really wasn't working.
Guess what? It DOES work! Apparently when I tested it before I did something wrong.
So I've spent the better part of this day hooking everything up to it and listening to various things on vinyl and CD. At one point you would have thought Elvis Costello's wife (that's Diana Krall and I am just assuming they are still married) was banging away on a piano in my living room while crooning about having her grape peeled.<br />
<br />
Vacuum tubes, baby!!<br />
<br />
Yeah!
OK, if you want me to be brutally honest, I'm not sure there's a helluva lot of difference between this old stuff and the amp I bought in 2003. If I could do a real side-by-side comparison it's entirely possible I'd detect differences between the two such as that proverbial "warmer & richer" sound from the vacuum tube amp. But since I'd have to unplug and replug a device and unplug and replug speakers to compare, I am just not sure I'm all that bothered to know. They both sound incredible. <br />
<br />
There are so many variables to consider. Even proper speaker placement can make a big difference. I repositioned my speakers slightly while testing out the old amp and that made <u>quite an improvement</u> in the sound!<br />
<br />
Maybe after a couple of weeks with the old amp while the new one is being repaired I'll notice a step down once I get the repaired amp returned to me.
I am just thankful I went ahead and got that old unit repaired so I won't have to be music-less for however long it takes to get the newer amp repaired. It's going to be fun spending some quality time again with this old friend from 1984.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/ampfront.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1984 amp and preamp.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/ampback.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back view of preamp.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
You may call me a geek now. And I'm sure some of you who have your music in the "cloud" and listen thru ear buds are wondering what the hell is wrong with me.Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-17692375139714607762012-07-25T19:29:00.000-05:002012-07-25T19:29:59.408-05:00The Great Constitution of the United States of AmericaSome <a href= http://www.house.gov/house/Constitution/Constitution.html>of this</a> hasn't even taken effect. In fact it's steadily going the opposite direction. Read it.
I'll be back with some thoughts.Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-34584759468551679222012-05-25T18:54:00.000-05:002012-05-25T18:55:19.562-05:00Friday Pussy Blog: Tot Lovin'Happy Friday & Happy Memorial Day weekend!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/Tot7.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tot gets some lovin'<br />
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</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/JessieLee-6.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jessie Lee monopolizing my space<br />
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</tbody></table>
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</div>Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-20303848859442339242012-05-21T18:11:00.000-05:002012-05-21T18:14:57.421-05:00∅ None For Nought ∅I am pleased to announce I will be hosting the<strike> first annual</strike> <b>RadNil 2012 Conference</b> in Austin, Texas over the weekend of 14-15 July, 2012 as a celebration of radical nothingness and an appreciation of all things zero.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/nil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/nil.jpg" /></a>Conference Objectives:<br />
<br />
(0) Providing a space within which to understand that while <i>one</i> may indeed be the loneliest number, we aim to do you one worse.<br />
<br />
(0a) That's about it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I am committed to making RadNil 2012 as affordable as possible for no
one. Therefore, ticket prices are set at zero and none are currently
available, so don't whip out that credit card!<br />
<br />
There will be zero panelists leading silent discussions of no consequence whatsoever. Food and beverages are deemed unnecessary and will not be provided.
For an extensive PDF listing of all events* during this conference, <a href="http://www.mikeace.com/">click here.</a><br />
<br />
Coincidentally, this conference does coincide with the <a href="http://www.radfem2012.com/index.html">RadFem 2012</a> conference in London. Some of you may be torn between one or the other. I would suggest if you are on the fence, please attend the RadFem 2012 conference because you'll be missing absolutely nothing here. However, if you insist, and prefer to attend my RadNil 2012 conference by choice, or because you are among the ranks of those <a href="http://cherryblossomlife.com/2012/05/18/the-worlds-losers-out-themselves-for-radfem-2012/">who are prohibited</a> from attending RadFem 2012, please be advised that my conference also has attendance limitations and therefore you may have zero luck in either case.<br />
<br />
Due to the nature of the conference, Jews will not be permitted to attend, nor will people of mixed races. Before I start getting complaints and protests for being anti-Semitic and racist (which I'm not), I would like to add that all cisgender people are excluded. Gays, lesbians, queers, transgender males and females, protestants,
Catholics, Jews, Seventh Day Adventists, Buddhists, Hindus, any and all
followers of Islam, atheists and agnostics, and cyborg feminists are
excluded as are musicians and other "artsy types." If you have
dreadlocks, don't even think of attending. If you are a poet with
dreadlocks, you will be turned away before even parking your vehicle. Annoying morning drive-time radio disc jockeys who are male will be castrated and<i> then</i> denied entrance, despite my non-violent ethos. Children and babies are not allowed. I also am prohibiting pets and that includes seeing eye dogs. And that's OK because the vision-impaired are prohibited as well.<br />
<br />
OK, I'll stop dragging this on and cut to the facts. No one will be allowed to attend my conference. And it's not because I don't like you, or because I'm biased against you, or I don't understand you. It would simply disrupt nothing and nothing is the whole point. <br />
<br />
Let me be very clear: any attempts to divide this zero conference will be met with an absence of tolerance, and furthermore, empty wrath will be delivered upon you tenfold, if not twenty.<br />
<br />Don't feel slighted in any way whatsoever. I am also #1 on the banned list from my own conference because I'd surely try to make something out of nothing.<br />
<br />
Thank you for your support and solidarity<b>. </b>Remember: each atom in our bodies is<b> </b>99.99999999% empty space. So together we are a whole lot of zilch!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
∅</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
*Please note the screening of the film "Less than Zero" has been
cancelled due to concerns that perceived negative integers could have
the potential of upstaging this event. In order to honor the integrity
of the conference, there will be no replacement film. In lieu of the
film, 98 minutes of silence will be observed in a floatation tank. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/RadNilgraphic.jpg" /> </div>
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<br /></div>Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-37999395115168231002012-05-18T19:27:00.002-05:002012-05-18T19:27:27.246-05:00Friday Pussy Blog: Job Search Interrupted<div style="text-align: center;">
How can I hunt for a job with this Siamese hunk of meat obstructing me?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/JL-4.jpg" /> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Wait a minute! Isn't that a Facebook game on the monitor?<br />
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Meanwhile, the Tot finds comfort in unlikely places and positions.
</div>Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-80126116762687951382012-05-16T20:35:00.000-05:002012-05-16T20:35:06.521-05:00Metamorphosis<div align="center">
This morning was a young toad in the early morning pre-twilight it became a raccoon turd glistening as the sun rose it became a snail as light revealed the slick trail and antennae. <br /><br />Not exactly a haiku.</div>Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-45082679746458644702012-05-11T20:15:00.002-05:002012-05-11T20:15:28.891-05:00Friday Pussy Blog: The Pea of Sweetness<div style="text-align: center;">
<img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/SweetPea-1-1.jpg" /></div>Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-34144309064404356122012-05-06T18:44:00.002-05:002012-05-06T19:13:47.805-05:00Let's Talk Money, Honey!I am already so weary of this so-called "class warfare" thing going on in our political discourse.<br />
<br />
For the purpose of what I have to say on the matter, let's remove from the table any discussion of tax rates, what's fair vs. not fair, whether the rich should pay a higher percentage than those at the poverty level, etc.<br />
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OK, let me say one thing and THEN we'll take it off the table. The debate at least has some merit. I understand why some people with a rather narrow view might think it's so unfair that someone making $5 million a year is taxed at a higher rate than a family of four trying to get by on $25,000 a year...or less. If you are in the camp that believes everyone, regardless of income, should pay a flat tax of 10% because it's "fair", I think you are full of shit. As soon as a tax rate starts to take basic necessities of life away, then it's too high and unfair.<br />
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Someone working minimum wage, or two minimum wage jobs, and trying to support a child while being taxed is going to be forced to do without something basic, and adequate food will quite likely be one of the many sacrifices. Anyone making $100,000 probably isn't going to need to skip a meal due to finances even at a higher tax rate. Depending on where they live, the yacht might have to wait, but so be it.<br />
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Now let's just focus on income rather than tax rates. What do you suppose would be the reaction if the top 3% of our school teachers -- the best of the best -- were being paid $300,000 or $400,000 a year? There would be an uproar the likes of which we'd never heard coming from the right, center, and probably even from some on the left. What about the best of the police? (The ones who aren't out using their clubs and teargas to suppress people exercising freedom of speech.) And what about nurses and firefighters?
I can't think of a single ordinary job description which doesn't have some kind of salary range which everyone accepts without question. We all know the kid at the Pizza Hut probably isn't hauling in 70-grand a year no matter how hard he or she might be working, or how great they are at what they do.<br />
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I consider myself to be extremely fortunate with my career in advertising (despite my current unemployment). I've always known the positions I've held in the industry were critical for the success of the organization and the client base. If I failed to get creative materials to a media outlet in a timely manner, the advertising campaign could be jeopardized. Having been a media buyer for 12 years, I know that if I don't secure the time slots on desired networks, the commercials will not be seen. And not to strictly toot my own horn, I also know the commercials themselves have to be compelling enough to get a certain number of average television viewers to pick up the phone or go to the website and order the can't-live-life-without-it widget for $19.95 plus $7.95 shipping. If they don't, then it doesn't even matter how well I do my part. No money coming in means I don't have a job, even if I'm the best damn media buyer on the planet. So thank you creative directors and producers everywhere!<br />
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I have worked as hard as anyone in the industry and have played my part in generating tens of millions of dollars in revenue for agencies and clients. A lot of profits have been made as a result of my efforts.
All that being said, my compensation has always been salaried with a small percentage of my salary coming as a bonus some years. And by small percentage, I'm talking 10% maximum and as an overall average through the years more like 3%-5%. Regardless of how much revenue I generate or how much profit a client might make as a result of my efforts, I know as a media buyer that I will never make $500,000 a year, nor should I.<br />
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I have made as little as $43,000 and as much as $88,000. Those salaries, particularly the latter, would be seen by many people as wonderful and I never took it for granted. The advertising industry is not what I would call stable work and that $88,000 salary lasted less than a year and was followed by 5 months of unemployment and then by a job paying half as much! Worth noting also is that the highest salary I earned did not come with any benefits whatsoever. It was freelance work. No medical, no dental, no paid vacation.<br />
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Perhaps because of my experience, and a constant awareness that I've been doing OK because somebody...a LOT of people who might not be doing as well as I am have been ordering a bunch of stuff they see on TV and therefore I knew where my money was coming from ultimately. I, along with everyone else in these organizations, are making a living thanks to people buying mops, steam-cleaners, hideous knives which are guaranteed to send x number of people to emergency rooms, food dehydrators, hand blenders, appliances which catch on fire after 3 uses, robots to vacuum your floor, 935 different devices to make you thin or have awesome abs, ladders, woks, drills, paint appliers, paint removers, pasta makers, chicken rotisseries, cat piss odor suppressors, zit removers, teeth whiteners, breath fresheners, memory enhancers, spray-on hair for bald spots, "gold" colored coins being marketed as "investments" that have a fucking fleck of real gold in them worth about 80 cents, and wealth-building methods which, if successful, God-forbid you should pay more in taxes! And let's not forget pills that make your dick hard so you can always be ready to fuck on a moment's notice. (Make sure you have health insurance because if that boner lasts more than four hours you need to see a doctor right away!)<br />
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Yep, I've always known who butters my bread.<br />
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I also take it to the next level. I look at corporate profits. Let's take the Waltons for instance. No, not John, Olivia, John-Boy, Mary Ellen and the rest of them. I'm referring to the other, slightly more fortunate Walton family....the ones worth about <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walton_family">$93 billion</a>, give or take a little, thanks to a thriving chain of retail outlets selling lots and lots of people even more cheap shit than I can fathom. <br />
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I am trying to imagine how anyone makes money that isn't somehow, directly or indirectly, made possible by consumers like us going out and buying stuff.<br />
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On a side note, I do appreciate it when someone like Alice Walton comes along and decides to give a <a href="http://crystalbridges.org/">little something back</a>
to the local community, I don't see that happening nearly enough, and
she still could have, and probably would have, if she'd paid 5% more in
tax on those billions. But hey, museum admission is FREE thanks to Wal-Mart!
God bless them.<br />
<br />
When I was a child, I remember being able to put 5 cents in a vending machine and getting a cold Coca-Cola in a bottle. A gallon of gasoline was less than 50 cents and some dude would come out and fill your tank, check your oil, and clean your windows! With a smile on his face (sometimes). Back in those days, if you mentioned that you'd bought something made in China you'd probably have been branded a red communist on the spot.<br />
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Thanks to corporate greed, it's hard to find an American flag decal for your Hummer that isn't made in China. And this is where I start to come unhinged.<br />
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We pay the same or more for the same products as we did a few years ago when those products were made in North America or even Europe. Manufacturing jobs vanished as corporations hauled their production to countries where wages are pennies compared to dollars. Corporations are doing great as a result of these and other tactics aimed at maximizing income and pleasing their shareholders.<br />
<br />
As an example I love to use Ray Irani, CEO of Occidental Petroleum, who in 2010 had a salary of $1,191,667. Not bad. I'm not sure there's a man or woman on the planet who is actually worth that kind of money, but hey. I'm sure he has a family to feed just like most other working Americans. And I'll bet his mortgage payment is a bitch. So I don't begrudge him for it. Really, I don't. I'm sure he hates long meetings and conference calls as much as the rest of us do.<br />
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However, I do know that salaries like that are made possible, and only made possible, because people like us are buying shit or services.<br />
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But here's the real kicker. Mr. Irani can certainly survive quite well on that salary. He might have to make some conservative adjustments here and there. He might have to save up for 7 or 8 years before he can afford to buy his yacht. I have no idea what his living arrangements are but it might be rough if he wants a 10,000 square foot home in Los Angeles, even in Compton (if there is such a thing as a home that large in Compton). Maybe he'd have to settle for 4,000 square feet. Hey, life's tough and we have to manage it.<br />
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But he doesn't just make $1,191,667. Mr. Irani also raked in a little extra as a bonus in 2010: $32,975,000 to be precise.<br />
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OK, I'll be totally honest here. I just lost any fucking compassion I might have had over his cost of housing dilemma. Or how long he might have to wait before he gets his goddamn yacht. Before all of you start screaming "but...but...what if, like you, he had a rough year in 2009 and only made half of what he was making in 2010!", let me finish. I'm not done yet.<br />
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Also in 2010, Mr. Irani got some stock and options to, you know, help pad his condition a little more just in case he might have been irresponsible in some way and squandered $10 or $20 million after too much rum punch at a black tie gala. That bumped him up another $40,250,000. But maybe we shouldn't even count that... it's all just on paper for now.<br />
<br />
Total compensation package for 2010: $76,107,010.<br />
<br />
If my 2010 bonus alone, as a percentage of salary had been that much, I would have been given an extra $1,660,279.30 for my superb contributions to the advertising agency. I would have told them they were out of their minds (after waiting to be sure the check was going to clear the bank). And then I would have promptly resigned because (a) that's just insane business behavior, (b) it seems unsustainable and would put me under incredible pressure to live up to that value, and (c) I could easily retire very comfortably on that sum.<br />
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Now you know why I love using Mr. Irani as my example. He's not even the top dog in the <a href=http://www.usatoday.com/money/companies/management/2011-03-31-ceo-pay-chart-total.htm>CEO pyramid</a> for 2010. That honor goes to the head of Viacom who edged him out by about $8 million. That's OK though because <a href="http://files.shareholder.com/downloads/VIA-B/1852955117x0x565668/772a1a2e-8556-450d-b30e-82ba92f2420d/Viacom_Q2_12_Earnings_Release.pdf">they did OK too</a> based on 2nd quarter financial reports just released on May 3rd. Believe me, that 8:30 AM conference call on Friday was probably worth attending!<br />
<br />
In light of all this I totally understand where Mitt Romney is coming from. These are his people and his world. And in their eyes it's just not fair that a majority of us want them to pay a higher tax rate than a Mr. and Mrs. Gonzalez trying to make ends meet by pressing out tortillas in Tyler, Texas all day so they can afford to fill up their tanks at the Exxon station on the way to Wal-Mart or Kroger to <a href="http://www.pcrm.org/search/?cid=3328">buy shit for their kids to eat</a> for dinner.<br />
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There's just a couple of things I do not understand. At what point does executive compensation become immoral? How much is too much? Do we draw the line at $100 million a year? And why would anyone in their right mind want or expect to be compensated that much in one year anyway? It's almost more money than any human could possibly spend unless they want to go the extra mile and do something crazy like...I dunno... what? Buy an election? Control the entire political process? You tell me.<br />
<br />
One of the joys in life in setting realistic financial goals and reaching them; $70 or $80 million a year kinda takes the fun out of that aspect. Maybe I'm just a little too sensitive because if I was raking in $2 million a year I'd be running a kick-ass food bank or something instead of trying to figure out where my next $60 million was coming from and whether all the liberal socialists were going to jack up my tax rate because of some podunky thing like our educational system falling apart, roads and bridges needing repair, water systems in dire need of updating, and preparing ourselves to be technological stand-outs in the fucking 21st century which, by the way, is already 12% behind us while we squabble over marriage equality and the evils of reefer, both of which will surely, sooner or later, rip apart our moral fiber and destroy our civilization.<br />
<br />
But what truly blows my mind to shreds are not the Mitt Romneys of the world, or the people making so much money it can't possibly be spent on any personal "needs" without appearing to be a complete and total self-absorbed prick with horrific taste in chandeliers. If a family of 8 could live comfortably in your master bath and walk-in closet, you might need to take a step back and self-evaluate.<br />
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What I'm throwing my hands in the air about are the people like you and I, who are making $25k a year, $50k a year, $75k a year and are actually having to feed and educate their children, and keep them clothed, and look after their health care needs, make sure the mortgage payment is sent in on time, try to sock a little back for unexpected emergencies, and plan for retirement, all of which are generating more wealth for those corporations who control this system, while these very struggling people simultaneously weep these ridiculous tears that it would be so unfair to tax the rich at a higher rate than anyone else, and because those of us who are actually blessed with a functioning conscience, we must be Marxists and anti-American. (Or French.)<br />
<br />
I am not a Christian but all of this is enough to make me wish Jesus would come back right this instant and yank so many of his followers' heads out of their asses. But I have a hunch we're just going to have to let this play out, and the ride is not going to be one of joy.<br />
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Thanks for listening, and <a href="http://www.reuters.com/article/2012/05/06/us-france-election-projections-idUSBRE8450AR20120506">Vive la France!</a>
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<br />Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-21264885631127869202012-05-04T19:20:00.001-05:002012-05-04T19:20:26.769-05:00Friday Pussy Blog: In Memory of Kristopher James KeithI lost a Facebook friend within the last week and it wasn't due to any defriending on either side. Kristopher was fighting cancer and unfortunately his body could take no more of that battle.
Although we never met personally, Kristopher and I shared a lot of interests and cats were one of them. He was particularly fond of Tater Tot, and who isn't? I know he would have given anything to see the Tot in person someday. So I am dedicating this post to him and all 19 of his rather amazing years of life.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/Tot-a-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tot gazing out the kitchen window</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/Tot-b-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Tot pose</td></tr>
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Kristopher was keeping a very low profile on Facebook during the entire month of April so I knew he was going through a rough spell. Although I tried to suppress my thoughts, I knew it wasn't good. Knowing that if he was rarely on Facebook, he probably wasn't doing much else online either, so on April 13 I posted a Tot exclusive on his page. That was one of the last times we had any direct interaction.<br />
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Prior to his downturn in April he would frequently start prompting me around 5pm for the Pussy Blog. "Yeah, yeah, relax; I'm working on it."
I would have been catching hell today for be so late. And I wish I was.Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-65152142785436077252012-04-27T18:19:00.003-05:002012-04-27T18:19:31.322-05:00Friday Pussy Blog: Tot Shabbat Edition<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/DSC04903_0168_edited-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tater Tot assuming the Loaf position</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jessie Lee showing off her unique underside</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/DSC04908_0173.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She enjoys Daddy upside down</td></tr>
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Happy Friday!
Shabbat Shalom!Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-90751368954820047082012-04-20T18:19:00.005-05:002012-04-20T18:19:56.934-05:00Friday Pussy Blog: 4/20 EditionFriday "crept up and crapped on me" as my grandma used to say. I almost forgot it was Friday! My attention was focused on it being 4/20. Anyhoo...<br />
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<img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/Tot-39.jpg" /></div>
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Tot making his way over for a 2nd portion of tuna.</div>
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Jessie Lee showing contentment with her meal.</div>
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Hope your Friday is/was a great one!</div>
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</div>Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-13382949323022575932012-04-13T16:10:00.003-05:002012-04-13T16:23:42.149-05:00Friday Pussy Blog: Friday the 13th - Part II EditionAnother memorable Friday the 13th! We had one in January and I got laid off that day. On this one I forked over $8,800 to the IRS. At least the latter scenario makes me feel good: I'm doing my part to fund the war machine! Perhaps I paid for some body armor...or a toilet seat perhaps. That's a better use of my money than some frivolous first-class vacation in Europe for a month, right? Am I right?<br /><br />Anyway, let's get down to some feline business. That's why we're here.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/Tot2-23.jpg" /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Tot spent the morning asleep on what has to be a very uncomfortable 3-ring binder.<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/Tot-38.jpg" /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">The Tot lurking on a shelf...on a collapsed cat trap, ironically.<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/JessieLee-4.jpg" /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Jessie Lee giving her daddy a robust yawn.<br /><br /><br />My babies will be getting a Friday fish treat shortly.<br /><br /><br /></div>Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-91158044704411357512012-04-06T12:21:00.002-05:002012-04-06T12:25:06.513-05:00Friday Pussy Blog: Lazy Good Friday Edition<div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/Tot-37.jpg" /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">The Tot thinks the photo album makes a comfortable bed.<br />My photo scanning project has been interrupted for a bit.<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/JL-3.jpg" /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Meanwhile, Jessie Lee has claimed the far more comfortable chair.<br /><br /><br />HAPPY FRIDAY!<br /></div>Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-1621065262053481622012-03-30T17:39:00.002-05:002012-03-30T17:49:35.409-05:00Friday Pussy Blog: Small Cat Traps EditionThis has been a busy and frustrating week. <br /><br />Plenty of boxes from amazon arrived this week. However all but one are too small to serve as cat traps. I believe the kittehs are a bit disappointed that I didn't order bigger stuff!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/DSC04872.jpg" /><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Jessie Lee cooling her belly on this rather warm afternoon.<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/DSC04876.jpg" /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Tot will guard the boxes even though they are too small to contain his bulk.<br /></div>Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-81818062453814140792012-03-26T12:45:00.002-05:002012-03-26T12:51:21.038-05:00Austin BluebonnetsThis might well be my favorite time of year in Austin when the bluebonnets are in bloom. These are just a couple of photos from the neighborhood.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/bluebonnets2-1.jpg" /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Imagine an entire hillside along the freeway covered in these! It's spectacular.<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/bluebonnets1.jpg" /></div>Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-81231251363761998902012-03-24T20:17:00.001-05:002012-03-24T20:21:05.077-05:00King Of The World<img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/Spring.jpg">Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28504358.post-70219843724177646742012-03-23T17:21:00.004-05:002012-03-23T18:08:21.131-05:00Friday Pussy Blog: Pussy Portraits EditionWhat a beautiful Friday!<br /><br /><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/Tot-36.jpg" /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">The very handsome Tot.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/SweetPea-9.jpg" /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Sweet Pea pausing during grooming in a pot.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/JessieLee-3.jpg" /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Jessie Lee adoring her daddy.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g126/konagod/035.jpg" /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Bonus Tot yawning.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I do not like the sloppy appearance of this post. I've been trying out the Safari browser and either something isn't set correctly or it does not allow me to center photos on the blog. Consequently, the text appears off-center.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Guess I'll switch back to Firefox for the next post.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Friðvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08508816404445742901noreply@blogger.com3