Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Deep Thoughts
Wouldn't it have been super if the Republicans had succeeded in privatizing social security and put everyone's money in the MARKET?
So much fun, all spoiled by SOCIALIST FREEDOM HATERS.
So much fun, all spoiled by SOCIALIST FREEDOM HATERS.
then and now
It is perhaps an odd quirk of my personality that I find them equally brilliant and electrifying.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Ladies and gentlemen, our customers!
A borderline guy in a John Deere cap on a cell phone:
She got nice lips.
She got nice lips.
She got nice lips.
She got nice lips, though.
SHE DOESN'T HAVE TO!
Sunday, December 28, 2008
today's revue of human oddities
There have been not one, but two morbidly obese nerds in kilts.
Not even together, they appeared hours apart.
And one of them was with a girl!
A scrawny guy in a tank top with a longbox of CDs and several patches of gauze affixed to his chin with surgical tape wandered around in a daze for ten minutes before realizing he wasn't in the record store.
An emaciated woman with frosted blond hair in a floor length fur coat and wedding ring with more carats than Farmer Brown's vegetable garden complained about the price of our $5.95 calendars.
/edit
one of the last customers of the day was a largish nerd fellow who, while digging through the pockets of his trenchcoat for change, spilled a 20 sided die onto the counter.
In the spirit Stephen Crane, I nearly cried out "COMRADE! BROTHER!"
Not even together, they appeared hours apart.
And one of them was with a girl!
A scrawny guy in a tank top with a longbox of CDs and several patches of gauze affixed to his chin with surgical tape wandered around in a daze for ten minutes before realizing he wasn't in the record store.
An emaciated woman with frosted blond hair in a floor length fur coat and wedding ring with more carats than Farmer Brown's vegetable garden complained about the price of our $5.95 calendars.
/edit
one of the last customers of the day was a largish nerd fellow who, while digging through the pockets of his trenchcoat for change, spilled a 20 sided die onto the counter.
In the spirit Stephen Crane, I nearly cried out "COMRADE! BROTHER!"
Saturday, December 27, 2008
true customer tales
wizened, hunchbacked old woman in a yellow rain slicker:
It's been a while, things have changed- what is this place?
me:
it's a used book store.
her:
Oh, oh! Used to be...used to be....mmmmmmm.
I'M BLIND, I don't read!
me:
Mmmhmm.
her, wandering toward the door:
Ah...MAYBE I should give some of them away!
It's been a while, things have changed- what is this place?
me:
it's a used book store.
her:
Oh, oh! Used to be...used to be....mmmmmmm.
I'M BLIND, I don't read!
me:
Mmmhmm.
her, wandering toward the door:
Ah...MAYBE I should give some of them away!
Holiday in Cambodia
Last year the wife was sick, this year me n' the Fuss are sick.
There's been plenty of festive gathering, but I've only been able to enjoy half an evening of it. There has been some unparalleled food courtesy of Cousin Helen- the best roast lamb I've ever tasted, and last night an epic plate of carnitas. Not to mention her cinnamon rolls.
Infants are hard anyway, when you're sick everything is magnified...and when they're sick, UGH.
Santa brought me a bottle of gin I've never tried before- once my health bounces back there will be a tasting. Also, a pair of pants that fit, an ice cream maker for the Kitchenaid, some festive boxer shorts and a gift card to Peets.
When I was little clothes and gift certificates and hardware would have ruined the season. Now, they're an entirely satisfying haul.
There's been plenty of festive gathering, but I've only been able to enjoy half an evening of it. There has been some unparalleled food courtesy of Cousin Helen- the best roast lamb I've ever tasted, and last night an epic plate of carnitas. Not to mention her cinnamon rolls.
Infants are hard anyway, when you're sick everything is magnified...and when they're sick, UGH.
Santa brought me a bottle of gin I've never tried before- once my health bounces back there will be a tasting. Also, a pair of pants that fit, an ice cream maker for the Kitchenaid, some festive boxer shorts and a gift card to Peets.
When I was little clothes and gift certificates and hardware would have ruined the season. Now, they're an entirely satisfying haul.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
tragedy of the commons
There's this girl who comes in once a week or so and always wants to talk. She's maybe 25, but is already getting that tight too much plastic surgery look, and is way skinnier than she needs to be. I try to be nice, but I can hardly bear to look at her.
Some people I glance at and see their lives spooled out, running past like film- she's one of them.
Today she bought $40 worth of blank journals.
She wondered if I could look for some books and call her if I found them?
Sure, if I had the time.
She wrote on the back of her business card
"It's a little strange, but that's just me!"
Indeed.
=/
Some people I glance at and see their lives spooled out, running past like film- she's one of them.
Today she bought $40 worth of blank journals.
She wondered if I could look for some books and call her if I found them?
Sure, if I had the time.
She wrote on the back of her business card
exotic dancing
bondage/dominatrix
toy poodles
french bulldogs
grooming dogs
"It's a little strange, but that's just me!"
Indeed.
=/
nutball addenda
today adds another gal who bathed in cheap, shitty perfume AND is methodically going through every box of calendars in front of the counter while serenading us with some repetitive half-hummed ditty.
Wouldn't be so bad, but she's off key.
/edit
Perhaps predictably, humming lady turns out to also be one of the Plastic Bag Brigade.
After carrying on about our lack of paper, she ends up requesting a bag after all, subjecting yours truly to a song and dance about how this is all OUR fault.
Wouldn't be so bad, but she's off key.
/edit
Perhaps predictably, humming lady turns out to also be one of the Plastic Bag Brigade.
After carrying on about our lack of paper, she ends up requesting a bag after all, subjecting yours truly to a song and dance about how this is all OUR fault.
Monday, December 22, 2008
today's disenchanting lineup of miscreants
First there was the beefy older gal in the floral print mu-mu, whos waxy skin glistened with a reeking sheen of perfume and took what seemed like 45 minutes to write a check.
Also on the offensive smell tip we have the gravel mouthed urban camper in the greasy leather hat with the peacock feather in the band, who bought an Ancient Forests calendar and dug payment out of a collection of plastic film canisters hung around his neck in a crocheted bag.
Then there was the wiry militant bike enthusiast who pestered me about area bike shops for at least 5 minutes. He seemed to take my ignorance of the subject as a personal affront and dedicated his considerable manic energy to ferreting out my HIDDEN ESOTERIC KNOWLEDGE of the local bicycling underground until I broke out the heavy artillery- "Do you have a book question? If not, I can't help you."
Today has also been replete with people who turn my casual query "would you like a bag?" into a referendum on global climate change, before finally accepting my toxic plastic offering because they forgot their wildcrafted hemp shopping tote, woven by a native women's collective in Hati, in the trunk of the car.
I wonder if they think accepting plastic bags only under extreme vocal protest improves their ecological karma...
Perhaps I can short circuit these righteous screeds by eliminating the modifiers and just grunting "Bag?"
Also on the offensive smell tip we have the gravel mouthed urban camper in the greasy leather hat with the peacock feather in the band, who bought an Ancient Forests calendar and dug payment out of a collection of plastic film canisters hung around his neck in a crocheted bag.
Then there was the wiry militant bike enthusiast who pestered me about area bike shops for at least 5 minutes. He seemed to take my ignorance of the subject as a personal affront and dedicated his considerable manic energy to ferreting out my HIDDEN ESOTERIC KNOWLEDGE of the local bicycling underground until I broke out the heavy artillery- "Do you have a book question? If not, I can't help you."
Today has also been replete with people who turn my casual query "would you like a bag?" into a referendum on global climate change, before finally accepting my toxic plastic offering because they forgot their wildcrafted hemp shopping tote, woven by a native women's collective in Hati, in the trunk of the car.
I wonder if they think accepting plastic bags only under extreme vocal protest improves their ecological karma...
Perhaps I can short circuit these righteous screeds by eliminating the modifiers and just grunting "Bag?"
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Saturday, December 20, 2008
ACTION BLOGGING!
Hot off the presses, a visit from Fiend and Fuss on their way to see Santy Claus at the plaza!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
attn DEVRA
found your phone in the cushions of the Chair of Death, along with $2.75 in loose change, a universal remote and an ink pen.
sweet sick boy
Turns out the Fuss was especially Fussy because of incipient illness.
And he hates having his nose wiped.
New discoveries every day!
And he hates having his nose wiped.
New discoveries every day!
wrangling
Fuss is restive tonight, starting up crying for no discernible reason, inconsolable until I put him over my shoulder and march him around.
His travails are easier for me to take now, because he can be comforted. I don't mind the getting up and the random intensity of it, as long as my efforts create some visible effect. When he would howl and howl, it made you want to push the big red button.
He's finally asleep on the big cushy armchair, under the blue cloud blanket, I can hear him breathing and shifting.
The owl is back in the tree, calling to the moon, thinking.
His travails are easier for me to take now, because he can be comforted. I don't mind the getting up and the random intensity of it, as long as my efforts create some visible effect. When he would howl and howl, it made you want to push the big red button.
He's finally asleep on the big cushy armchair, under the blue cloud blanket, I can hear him breathing and shifting.
The owl is back in the tree, calling to the moon, thinking.
labyrinth of snakes
The last present mom gave me, a few months before she died, was for my birthday, a framed tomb rubbing she'd taken at a Scottish castle. It showed a dinner-plate sized maze of serpents endlessly twining around one another, eating each others tails, collectively forming a massive, unsolvable knot.
I was startled at the depth of the thing.
Her sporadic gift the last several years embodied the banal and depressing, like a commemorative Christmas bulb from the United States Postal Service celebrating the year 1989, or used Polo shirts in unflattering colors.
But they made sense to me. You can't pick a good gift for someone you don't know, or at least I've never been able to. Things for people I'm close to fall into my lap, for anyone else you might as well spin me around blindfolded and shove me through the door of the first handy shop.
This thing was outside her usual scope, so I kept it in the trunk of my car until a couple of weeks ago. Now it's hanging in the living room by the stairs, underneath a picture of teenage me sitting on Bobo's bare mattress in the house on Crandall, so underexposed you can barely trace my outline.
The rubbing is as perfectly sharp and clear as the framing is comically inept- I think she just daubed some Elmer's on the corners, slapped it on a rectangle of posterboard and cut to fit the first flimsy frame on the pile.
I wanted to fix it, re mount it, get a matte and a nice frame and smooth out the wrinkles, but on reflection I let it be.
It's too perfect an artifact of its author's intent.
I always want to fix things, smooth them over and tidy up.
But imperfections have their own stories to tell.
I was startled at the depth of the thing.
Her sporadic gift the last several years embodied the banal and depressing, like a commemorative Christmas bulb from the United States Postal Service celebrating the year 1989, or used Polo shirts in unflattering colors.
But they made sense to me. You can't pick a good gift for someone you don't know, or at least I've never been able to. Things for people I'm close to fall into my lap, for anyone else you might as well spin me around blindfolded and shove me through the door of the first handy shop.
This thing was outside her usual scope, so I kept it in the trunk of my car until a couple of weeks ago. Now it's hanging in the living room by the stairs, underneath a picture of teenage me sitting on Bobo's bare mattress in the house on Crandall, so underexposed you can barely trace my outline.
The rubbing is as perfectly sharp and clear as the framing is comically inept- I think she just daubed some Elmer's on the corners, slapped it on a rectangle of posterboard and cut to fit the first flimsy frame on the pile.
I wanted to fix it, re mount it, get a matte and a nice frame and smooth out the wrinkles, but on reflection I let it be.
It's too perfect an artifact of its author's intent.
I always want to fix things, smooth them over and tidy up.
But imperfections have their own stories to tell.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
pix
Flickr update!
meggsie was supposed to visit for dinner but her car caught fire, or something.
devra was late because (I shit you not) she had to play WoW with her co-workers.
In her defense, when the pizza arrived and peer pressure began to mount she absconded.
And we had a fine meal, with the Fuss essaying some most excellent dinner theater in the margins.
Did you know he can get nearly his entire foot into his mouth now?
True story.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Why I Love the Internet, pt 403
Because whenever you develop any sort of inchoate idea, you can be sure that someone, somewhere has poured themselves into describing your emotion with precision, and probably done a much better job of explaining it than you would if you'd taken the time to map our your position.
I instinctively hate The Family Guy because it is badly animated and not funny, but that was the extent of my consideration.
But every word of that guy's post rings the bronzed Bell of Truth with Mijolnir, the mythical hammer of Thor, god of Thunder and Rock and Roll.
I instinctively hate The Family Guy because it is badly animated and not funny, but that was the extent of my consideration.
But every word of that guy's post rings the bronzed Bell of Truth with Mijolnir, the mythical hammer of Thor, god of Thunder and Rock and Roll.
Monday, December 15, 2008
shiny new box
took advantage of CYBER MONDAY (which makes me think of sex-crazed nerds on AIM desperately typing each other to a ZORK-style climax) to order a new comp.
My main machine had a mobo problem, so I've been using the backup for a while and lately it has begun reminding me why I replaced it.
Dell had a deal going for a pretty good machine for the price of a new motherboard for the old box, so I bit.
So far so good, although it came with VISTA (I prefer XP, but the bastards wanted to charge me for it).
Vista, what can I say.
It is the penultimate expression of Microsoft's decades-long desire to possess Apple's casual elegance. Alas, they've gone about it like the cannibal who thought eating Einstein's brain would make him a genius.
In concrete terms, Vista plays Zune to Apple's iPod.
Oh well- if it annoys me enough I can wipe the drive and slap my old copy of XP down like a coat of fresh paint.
My main machine had a mobo problem, so I've been using the backup for a while and lately it has begun reminding me why I replaced it.
Dell had a deal going for a pretty good machine for the price of a new motherboard for the old box, so I bit.
So far so good, although it came with VISTA (I prefer XP, but the bastards wanted to charge me for it).
Vista, what can I say.
It is the penultimate expression of Microsoft's decades-long desire to possess Apple's casual elegance. Alas, they've gone about it like the cannibal who thought eating Einstein's brain would make him a genius.
In concrete terms, Vista plays Zune to Apple's iPod.
Oh well- if it annoys me enough I can wipe the drive and slap my old copy of XP down like a coat of fresh paint.
Rule Britannia
Why don't we have headlines like this?
I'm going to start a petition to have 'snog' added to the American vernacular.
I'm going to start a petition to have 'snog' added to the American vernacular.
hollow threats
During an early morning wrangle with an unusually truculent Fuss, the wife was heard to say
"If you don't start behaving, I'm putting on your kitty shoes."
When time came for our morning breakfast ritual, I was greeted by troubling portents of rebellion...
"If you don't start behaving, I'm putting on your kitty shoes."
When time came for our morning breakfast ritual, I was greeted by troubling portents of rebellion...
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
consumerist xmas
Book sales tanking.
Of course, this is new books sales, and publishing has a lot in common with the music industry when it comes to setting the wrong course in challenging times.
Primarily, the industry-wide embrace of the 'superstore' to the detriment of the indies, a business model akin to building SUVs because they increase your per-vehicle profit. It made them a lot of money in the short term, but it killed off most of the independent bookstores. Superstores and discount titles at Costco and Walmart make the accountants happy, but they don't make readers- that's what the indies did, and now it's coming back to bite the whole industry in the ass.
Of course, this is new books sales, and publishing has a lot in common with the music industry when it comes to setting the wrong course in challenging times.
Primarily, the industry-wide embrace of the 'superstore' to the detriment of the indies, a business model akin to building SUVs because they increase your per-vehicle profit. It made them a lot of money in the short term, but it killed off most of the independent bookstores. Superstores and discount titles at Costco and Walmart make the accountants happy, but they don't make readers- that's what the indies did, and now it's coming back to bite the whole industry in the ass.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
retro video: She Blinded Me With Science
I found this cassette, one of the only ones I bought, in a box on the shelf. It still has a Cheap Thrills sticker with the date on it, in case you tried to bring it back after 10 days, or whatever their lame return policy was. I doubt there's much left on it except tape hiss, I must have played it 40,000 times.
Cassettes were too fragile to believe in. I bought LPs and taped my own, avoiding a fit of rage when my Walkman inevitably devoured them. Also, making a mix tape from other tapes smacked of depravity and black magic, a grotesque audio cannibalism.
Leafing through mom's records, I see some of my old ones that are probably worth something. The original Blade Runner soundtrack, from when Vangelis wouldn't let them use his score and they re-recorded it with the New American Orchestra. I didn't read the small print and was bitterly disappointed when I returned home not with the eerie dystopian soundscape of a future LA drowning in its own tears, but a bunch of LA session musicians cheerily banging out a paycheck.
Albums have a visual force and a physical presence that doesn't exist in the modern age, when both music and graphics are often as not an invisible binary jumble on a hard drive. The iconic symbol of today's landscape is the iPod, not the album cover.
The sleeves of a bunch of my mom's records still live down in the tangled roots of my memory.
Dan Hicks and his Hot Licks, which she would put on to rouse the troops when I had a slumber party. How Can I Miss You When You Won't Go Away and I Scare Myself (which, I just realized, was covered by Thomas Dolby).
It always baffled Zim- the music was so relaxed an casual, and he expected something more strident.
Black Man's Burdon, Eric Burdon and War.
Notable for a gatefold featuring naked ladies. Sticky Fingers by the Rolling Stones, the Andy Warhol cover with the zipper. Cat Scratch Fever by Ted Nugent, the first record I ever bought, with Ted looking like one of her boyfriends at the time. Sgt. Peppers Lonely Heart's Club Band from the Beatles, and Hotel California from the Eagles- two covers I poured over by the hour when I was young, looking for signs and portents.
These days, I don't really notice CD covers. With their hard plastic shells they're utilitarian and informational, not artistic. And once they're on the machine, I don't really look at them again.
I'm lucky if I know the titles of the songs anymore, everything is numbers.
I asked Jamesy once what was his favorite song of the year, and he answered "Wolf Parade number nine!"
And I knew exactly which one he meant.
Monday, December 8, 2008
lets see if this works
took a little video of the Fuss' morning regimen today with the digital camera and uploaded it to flickr- can you see it?
also, attn ANNER- found my charger thingie for the camera, so Flickr is back on the update track.
also, attn ANNER- found my charger thingie for the camera, so Flickr is back on the update track.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Roger Ebert Surprise
When it comes to cinema he isn't fit to shine Pauline Kael's spitoon, but this is a surprisingly engaging one-stop takedown of Intelligent Design, the latest iteration of Creationism.
Cover Blurb of the Week...nay, YEAR
I priced a book last week, don't remember the details, but the NYT described the author thusly on the verso:
You don't say!
The Grahame Greene of Paraguay
You don't say!
silver linings
There isn't anything I hate more than being sick, except possibly customers who stomp in yelling WARE'S UR NONFICTION SECTION! before spitting up down their fronts and passing out into the sale cart.
Happily I'm generally healthy as a plow horse.
But there's one guilty pleasure to be extracted even from a fever.
With enough blankets you can find a point of perfect equilibrium, where your body is shivering but your brain can tell you're warm.
If you keep your balance you can coast along on its strange frictionless verge for a good ways before tipping and sliding down into the sauna again.
Ok, it's a slim straw to cling to, but I'm working on being a 'glass half full' kind of guy!
Happily I'm generally healthy as a plow horse.
But there's one guilty pleasure to be extracted even from a fever.
With enough blankets you can find a point of perfect equilibrium, where your body is shivering but your brain can tell you're warm.
If you keep your balance you can coast along on its strange frictionless verge for a good ways before tipping and sliding down into the sauna again.
Ok, it's a slim straw to cling to, but I'm working on being a 'glass half full' kind of guy!
Friday, December 5, 2008
Cut wins!
The Hair Poll has closed, the readers have spoken!
Now I just need to find a stylist who won't make a dog's breakfast out of it.
Now I just need to find a stylist who won't make a dog's breakfast out of it.
diseased
As a rough estimate I've slept 20 hours out of the last 24, and I still feel like ASS.
We had a fine evening with Devirts, Meggsie & Simey and I thought I was just hung over, a predictable aftereffect of mixing wine and gin.
Alas, it was something more insidious.
The cherry on top of this poop sundae is agreeing to cover for the boss today.
I guess I'll just sit here shivering until relief comes.
We had a fine evening with Devirts, Meggsie & Simey and I thought I was just hung over, a predictable aftereffect of mixing wine and gin.
Alas, it was something more insidious.
The cherry on top of this poop sundae is agreeing to cover for the boss today.
I guess I'll just sit here shivering until relief comes.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
gratz pelf!
He is now being repped by hotshot NYC agency Bret Adams Ltd.
My prediction that he will be one of those overnight success stories 25 years in the making is looking better every day!
My prediction that he will be one of those overnight success stories 25 years in the making is looking better every day!
Monday, December 1, 2008
bibliophile omnibus
Book Design Review's Best Book Covers of 2008
(my vote goes for Harry Harrison's Make Room, Make Room. Although I did buy a copy of Sharp Teeth for the store just because the cover was so great.)
Project Foodie's
10 Best Baking Cookbooks
NPR's 10 Best Cookbooks
I highly recommend Bittman's How to Cook Everything, although they're cheating a bit listing the 10th Anniversary Edition.
NYT's 10 best illustrated children's books
NPR's Best Gift Books (aka What To Get People You Don't Really Know But Have to Buy Something For)
and a selection of Best Books of the Year lists:
Various literary figures chime in at the London Times.
The Globe & Mail offers 100 reasons to give thanks.
The NYT follows suit.
Publisher's Weekly sounds off
Christan Science Monitor's top ten nonfiction books
Amazon's selection
makes me wish I had a few spare minutes to read ANYTHING.
A couple of good books I managed to read this year pre-Fuss, although not necessarily published in 2008:
Fingersmith by Sarah Waters. The best historical novel I've ever read, completely satisfying.
Counting Heads by David Marusek. The most original SF novel I've read since William Gibson's Neuromancer back in the 80's.
Seductions of Rice, which is technically a cookbook but is part autobiography and part travelogue.
Yiddish Policeman's Union by Michael Chabon. A genuine literary talent who regularly strolls through the slums of genre fiction- my kinda guy!
Fooled by Randomness by Nassim Taleb. I hate numbers and 'the market'- compelling me to not only finish but recommend a book examining both is a prodigious feat of writing.
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