Jens Lekman is playing somewhere in town on May 30th, anybody down for an outing?
The calendar at BooBoo's had him at SLO Brew (or whatever they call it now), but his web site has him at the Art Center.
Either way, I think he'd be fun to see.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
live music
I paused to enjoy an in-store performance at the record shop on my way home.
An interesting blend of pure blooded French cafe crooning and dusty Americana. I wasn't surprised to discover her LP was produced by one of the Calexico guys. The violinist had picked up a couple of mysteries at the store earlier.
Was kinda bummed I couldn't make the show.
All the fun people were there- the whole Funk clan, Keith and Vera, Malik was behind the counter and Fred and Pedro were buzzing around helping the band with this and that.
She mentioned they'd pressed some copies on vinyl, but the wax was all torn up to make room for the show. I'll check back and see if there's a copy to blow some of my trade on.
An interesting blend of pure blooded French cafe crooning and dusty Americana. I wasn't surprised to discover her LP was produced by one of the Calexico guys. The violinist had picked up a couple of mysteries at the store earlier.
Was kinda bummed I couldn't make the show.
All the fun people were there- the whole Funk clan, Keith and Vera, Malik was behind the counter and Fred and Pedro were buzzing around helping the band with this and that.
She mentioned they'd pressed some copies on vinyl, but the wax was all torn up to make room for the show. I'll check back and see if there's a copy to blow some of my trade on.
GRATZ to Bobo
On his sweet new tenured gig at Middlebury College, situated in a scenic Vermont hamlet where chain stores and billboards are forbidden, and the locals ensure a bountiful harvest by ritual stoning of the weak and unpopular.
He assures me that moving to the east coast will mean MORE VISITS , demonstrating the sort of slippery logical prowess that gets you to the top of the academic heap.
He also says that tenure is a synonym for teaching class in a loincloth, so I'm looking forward to students posting cell phone videos of his lectures on the internets.
He assures me that moving to the east coast will mean MORE VISITS , demonstrating the sort of slippery logical prowess that gets you to the top of the academic heap.
He also says that tenure is a synonym for teaching class in a loincloth, so I'm looking forward to students posting cell phone videos of his lectures on the internets.
Monday, April 27, 2009
I'm hip and modern, dammit!
In an effort to stay relevant for the youth of today I present a site with funny text messages!
Some of which are very funny indeed, to wit:
Hip Bax, artist's conception
Some of which are very funny indeed, to wit:
(214): Vomit. Vomit. Whatever. You wear a tiara in public.
(512): uhhh i just had a guy tell me he's seen more jam bands and done more drugs than i could err imagine. what a turn on.
(301): Bea Arthur died yesterday
(240): You shut your stupid mouth
(301): Betty White is next, I just know it.
(240): Betty White will never die! She's like Dick Clark. Rue McCalahan is next.
Hip Bax, artist's conception
assorted
The Fuss has stopped sleeping again.
His deplorable habit of flopping and crawling and wriggling his way over onto my pillow is a modern innovation which allows his hourly shrieks to penetrate my sleeping brain like bunker busters, pulverizing sleep's very foundations.
Earplugs, you say?
Indeed.
He has an appointment today, we're hoping someone can figure something out.
It's sad to pine for those halcyon days when you'd get a luxurious two hours of sleep between outbursts.
The organic produce project is proceeding. Last night I sauteed up a batch of spinach, tonight is either the swiss chard or the bok choy, depending.
There's a bird stuck in the store, and he's already foiled my usual ploy of turning off all the lights to entice them out the door to the sunny world beyond. I'm hoping he'll eventually get tired of clinging to the bricks up by the roofline and come down to where I can get a bag over him.
Two people have wandered in asking what happened to the record store.
"They're right there, two doors down."
"Oh!"
This is a change of pace from the usual record store mix-ups, which involve either trying to buy concert tickets or pick up their special orders from me.
The little blogger posting tabs have a new addition, 'monetize'.
Presumably this is the doorway to riches, a way to leverage my investment in Baxblog content and transform ephemeral words into tangible earnings.
Alas, as someone who habitually runs adblock plus it would be more that slightly hypocritical to put the touch on my vast readership with targeted ads for Withnail & I tee shirts, subscriptions to Cook's Illustrated and a panoply of sleep aids.
You have dodged a bullet, dear readers.
You remain un-monetized....for now.
/edit
another gal just asked where the record store went.
"Two doors that-a-way", I replied.
"Is it on this same level?" she asked.
Uh...wha?
His deplorable habit of flopping and crawling and wriggling his way over onto my pillow is a modern innovation which allows his hourly shrieks to penetrate my sleeping brain like bunker busters, pulverizing sleep's very foundations.
Earplugs, you say?
Indeed.
He has an appointment today, we're hoping someone can figure something out.
It's sad to pine for those halcyon days when you'd get a luxurious two hours of sleep between outbursts.
The organic produce project is proceeding. Last night I sauteed up a batch of spinach, tonight is either the swiss chard or the bok choy, depending.
There's a bird stuck in the store, and he's already foiled my usual ploy of turning off all the lights to entice them out the door to the sunny world beyond. I'm hoping he'll eventually get tired of clinging to the bricks up by the roofline and come down to where I can get a bag over him.
Two people have wandered in asking what happened to the record store.
"They're right there, two doors down."
"Oh!"
This is a change of pace from the usual record store mix-ups, which involve either trying to buy concert tickets or pick up their special orders from me.
The little blogger posting tabs have a new addition, 'monetize'.
Presumably this is the doorway to riches, a way to leverage my investment in Baxblog content and transform ephemeral words into tangible earnings.
Alas, as someone who habitually runs adblock plus it would be more that slightly hypocritical to put the touch on my vast readership with targeted ads for Withnail & I tee shirts, subscriptions to Cook's Illustrated and a panoply of sleep aids.
You have dodged a bullet, dear readers.
You remain un-monetized....for now.
/edit
another gal just asked where the record store went.
"Two doors that-a-way", I replied.
"Is it on this same level?" she asked.
Uh...wha?
Sunday, April 26, 2009
True Customer Tales
two friends with two piles of books ended up with the exact same total, prompting this exchange:
pregnant gal
Hah, I got five books!
punk gal with southern accent
yeah, but mine are all about sex!
'sex' came out sounding sort of like 'seeEX'.
pregnant gal
Hah, I got five books!
punk gal with southern accent
yeah, but mine are all about sex!
'sex' came out sounding sort of like 'seeEX'.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
true customer tales
older gal wearing a lot of turquoise jewelry:
Do you have a section of Canadian authors?
true customer tales
a mangy homeless guy hunched over the sale cart yelled, at no one visible,
SHUT UP! Or at least, talk more softly!
Food Post
Because it's been too long!
There were two winners this week, Rustic Tomato Sauce with Meat and finally a steak taco filling that measured up to taco truck offerings.
The meat sauce fits my cooking requirements perfectly- profoundly tasty & simple enough for a zoo animal to prepare. It hails from The New Best Recipe, which I highly recommend for general use.
The only ingredient I had to pick up was a couple of pounds of pork ribs, everything else was on hand- an onion, olive oil, salt and pepper, and a big 28oz can of diced tomatoes.
Heat the olive oil over medium high. Trim the ribs, brown on all sides & remove to a plate, pour off almost all of the resulting fat. Saute the minced onion until soft, scraping down the pan. Return ribs to pan, dump in tomato sauce & bring to a boil. Simmer gently for about an hour and a half, until the meat is falling off the bone.
Remove, cool a bit and shred by hand, discarding bones & fat. Return shredded meat to pan, simmer and adjust seasoning, serve over short pasta like penne or ziti.
So good!
The taco meat was a bit more involved- I got the recipe from the Cook's Illustrated site, so it's probably in one of their many cookbooks. You basically make a paste out of garlic, shallots, cilantro oil & cumin and marinade a flank steak (or skirt, which is what I had on hand) for an hour or so, reserving two tablespoons to make a sauce.
After marinading, you scrape off the paste and rub the meat with a mixture of pepper and sugar, then fry (or grill, but I didn't have the grill set up) for a few minutes per side.
Mix the reserved paste with 1tbs lime juice, slice the meat thin and drizzle with sauce, voila perfect taqueria tacos!
Also, we got our first delivery of organic veggies from Clark Valley Farm. We went in halvsies with Burl, and the haul was super. Looking forward to future bounty, and also seeking a good recipe for Bok Choy...
There were two winners this week, Rustic Tomato Sauce with Meat and finally a steak taco filling that measured up to taco truck offerings.
The meat sauce fits my cooking requirements perfectly- profoundly tasty & simple enough for a zoo animal to prepare. It hails from The New Best Recipe, which I highly recommend for general use.
The only ingredient I had to pick up was a couple of pounds of pork ribs, everything else was on hand- an onion, olive oil, salt and pepper, and a big 28oz can of diced tomatoes.
Heat the olive oil over medium high. Trim the ribs, brown on all sides & remove to a plate, pour off almost all of the resulting fat. Saute the minced onion until soft, scraping down the pan. Return ribs to pan, dump in tomato sauce & bring to a boil. Simmer gently for about an hour and a half, until the meat is falling off the bone.
Remove, cool a bit and shred by hand, discarding bones & fat. Return shredded meat to pan, simmer and adjust seasoning, serve over short pasta like penne or ziti.
So good!
The taco meat was a bit more involved- I got the recipe from the Cook's Illustrated site, so it's probably in one of their many cookbooks. You basically make a paste out of garlic, shallots, cilantro oil & cumin and marinade a flank steak (or skirt, which is what I had on hand) for an hour or so, reserving two tablespoons to make a sauce.
After marinading, you scrape off the paste and rub the meat with a mixture of pepper and sugar, then fry (or grill, but I didn't have the grill set up) for a few minutes per side.
Mix the reserved paste with 1tbs lime juice, slice the meat thin and drizzle with sauce, voila perfect taqueria tacos!
Also, we got our first delivery of organic veggies from Clark Valley Farm. We went in halvsies with Burl, and the haul was super. Looking forward to future bounty, and also seeking a good recipe for Bok Choy...
Friday, April 24, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
internet video heads up
PBS is shoveling a crapton of shows onto the wild wild web.
Good news for Casa Bax, as they're the only thing we miss about broadcast teevee.
Well, them and Judge Judy...
Good news for Casa Bax, as they're the only thing we miss about broadcast teevee.
Well, them and Judge Judy...
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
dumb heat
Global warming plusses:
Way less fog than in my youth.
Global warming minuses:
Way more 90+ degree days than in my youth.
Fortunately, fans are the only thing mom had more of than combination television/vcr/dvd players.
Two ceiling fans in the bedroom, one over the dining room table, a giant oscillating floor fan with a remote control that looks like a robot from Dr. Who, a couple of big box fans and a sizable collection of antique murder fans representing past generations, sharp, thick steel blades with skimpy wire guards you could stuff a large cat through.
I hauled the Robot upstairs from the garage, put it to work and the place was entirely livable by about 3am.
I like exactly one thing about extreme temperatures, early evening with the sun gone down and everything releasing pent up heat in waves, gin and tonic weather.
Way less fog than in my youth.
Global warming minuses:
Way more 90+ degree days than in my youth.
Fortunately, fans are the only thing mom had more of than combination television/vcr/dvd players.
Two ceiling fans in the bedroom, one over the dining room table, a giant oscillating floor fan with a remote control that looks like a robot from Dr. Who, a couple of big box fans and a sizable collection of antique murder fans representing past generations, sharp, thick steel blades with skimpy wire guards you could stuff a large cat through.
I hauled the Robot upstairs from the garage, put it to work and the place was entirely livable by about 3am.
I like exactly one thing about extreme temperatures, early evening with the sun gone down and everything releasing pent up heat in waves, gin and tonic weather.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
true customer tales
co-ed to her friend, considering the copy of Wilkie Collins' The Moonstone she just purchased.
Ohmygod, this is so long! I can't believe this, am I supposed to read this whole thing? Look at all these pages! I have to read sixty pages tonight! This is so much reading!
concerned friend:
Wow, your teacher is brutal.
Ohmygod, this is so long! I can't believe this, am I supposed to read this whole thing? Look at all these pages! I have to read sixty pages tonight! This is so much reading!
concerned friend:
Wow, your teacher is brutal.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
library sale
Signs of economic distress- this year's sale drew a crowd roughly three times normal size. My usual tactic is to buzz through once at high speed, grab as much obvious stuff as I can lay my hands on, then go back over the non-fiction sections at my leisure.
This time the dense, clamorous crowd caused such a violent decompression of stock levels I wasn't able to find much after that first pass. Some lit for the store, a couple of videos for the Fuss's perusal.
I did find my usual oddball winner, an unprepossessing paperback hidden between two thick volumes of Reader's Digest astronomy guides.
Even with the increased competition I ended up with a sizable pyramid of stuff.
I always feel like the fat dude at the buffet, my tray piled two feet high while everyone else has a bowl of jello and a roll. It isn't entirely true, there are always a few other dealers and low-level sellers picking things over, and the scanner demographic sweeping up after the parade.
It was foggy at the start and by the time I loaded up the car it was around 80 degrees. The old Mercedes diesels accelerate like an old diabetic on crutches, but they don't give a crap if they're hauling 300 pounds or 3000 pounds. Is it the torque? Calling all gearheads!
This time the dense, clamorous crowd caused such a violent decompression of stock levels I wasn't able to find much after that first pass. Some lit for the store, a couple of videos for the Fuss's perusal.
I did find my usual oddball winner, an unprepossessing paperback hidden between two thick volumes of Reader's Digest astronomy guides.
Even with the increased competition I ended up with a sizable pyramid of stuff.
I always feel like the fat dude at the buffet, my tray piled two feet high while everyone else has a bowl of jello and a roll. It isn't entirely true, there are always a few other dealers and low-level sellers picking things over, and the scanner demographic sweeping up after the parade.
It was foggy at the start and by the time I loaded up the car it was around 80 degrees. The old Mercedes diesels accelerate like an old diabetic on crutches, but they don't give a crap if they're hauling 300 pounds or 3000 pounds. Is it the torque? Calling all gearheads!
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Super Wind
Took out the trash and saw a plastic shopping bag flying around in a circle by the dumpster, straight out of American Beauty.
Sirens all over the place, but so far power at the store has been steady.
Sirens all over the place, but so far power at the store has been steady.
True Customer Tales
They're thick on the ground this week.
guy shaped like a bowling ball in an orange hoodie, who's always looking for tarot books:
"You handle all the crazy people very well! I might be one of them, so I appreciate it!"
guy shaped like a bowling ball in an orange hoodie, who's always looking for tarot books:
"You handle all the crazy people very well! I might be one of them, so I appreciate it!"
True Customer Tales
a 60-ish woman with stringy grey hair and a dingy overcoat covering a navy blue pantsuit, looking equal parts confused and worried wanders in, pauses by the sale cart and expels three long, wet, explosive farts, accompanied by a quizzical expression, stands there looking thoughtful for a minute, then wanders back out.
Hey, thanks!
Hey, thanks!
Monday, April 13, 2009
True Customer Tales
50-ish WASP lady sidles nervously up to the counter and clears her throat.
"uh...do you have a book called The Book of Negroes?"
"uh...do you have a book called The Book of Negroes?"
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Happy Bunny Day!
For those eschewing the pulpit & the egg hunt, I offer this diversion.
If the Baxblog had an Easter card, it might look something like this.
If the Baxblog had an Easter card, it might look something like this.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
true customer tales
two guys browsing the sale cart:
ballcap:
If you were the author of one of these books, would you be offended?
crew cut:
*long pause*
No.........no.
ballcap:
If you were the author of one of these books, would you be offended?
crew cut:
*long pause*
No.........no.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
video orgy!
it's been too long since I flooded the screen with detritus from youtube!
This song builds momentum and turns mesmerizing at about the two minute mark.
Can't wait for the lp to drop.
Neko!
her new one is fantastic, maybe as good as Blacklisted. Pick it up.
Holy CRAP!
That's my favorite tune off the cd but sweet mary mother of god, the studio version sounds like a lukewarm slab of American cheese compared to this sonic tidal wave.
They did not sound like a band that would kick ass live- just goes to show.
Also, I saw some really good performance art at the venue during an Eastern swing a few years back.
Nice, here's an acoustic clip of my other favorite track.
There's no harmony like twin sister harmony!
This song builds momentum and turns mesmerizing at about the two minute mark.
Can't wait for the lp to drop.
Neko!
her new one is fantastic, maybe as good as Blacklisted. Pick it up.
Holy CRAP!
That's my favorite tune off the cd but sweet mary mother of god, the studio version sounds like a lukewarm slab of American cheese compared to this sonic tidal wave.
They did not sound like a band that would kick ass live- just goes to show.
Also, I saw some really good performance art at the venue during an Eastern swing a few years back.
Nice, here's an acoustic clip of my other favorite track.
There's no harmony like twin sister harmony!
fuss talk
You don't get out much when you have a baby, or at least we don't.
The logistics of taking a baby anywhere outside home base and their unpredictability effectively supresses the potential social payoff.
It's like preparing for a mountain climb, with the caveat that inconsolable shrieking may cause you to reverse course halfway up the peak.
Never having been tremendously social (to criminally understate matters), this aspect of the Fuss is something of a Get Out of Jail Free card.
"Oh, you know.....the baby," I say gravely, pulling a long face and nodding slowly.
Of course, it only works because he actually is tremendously difficult and unpredictable.
Last night we had dinner with Burl and Fiend, delicious tacos and a big vat of guacamole.
The food was lovely, but after he grew weary. As recently adopted political beliefs proclaim sleeping beyond the reach of Fussland territorial waters to be treason, he made a fierce display to drive off Morpheus.
The parenting of babies can be accurately reduced to this gritty kernel- who's turn is it to fall on the grenade?
The possession arrow was not in my favor and so I ferried him home.
But an apocalypse well begun is not easily interrupted.
He howled and writhed as if my efforts were aimed more at exorcism than comfort, until at last exhaustion trumped ideology and he slipped into the sleep of the honest revolutionary.
I staggered into the kitchen, shell shocked, and scanned the freezer for ice cream, only to find the pint container reduced to a hollowed-out 1/4" at the very bottom, by spoon or spoons unknown.
The logistics of taking a baby anywhere outside home base and their unpredictability effectively supresses the potential social payoff.
It's like preparing for a mountain climb, with the caveat that inconsolable shrieking may cause you to reverse course halfway up the peak.
Never having been tremendously social (to criminally understate matters), this aspect of the Fuss is something of a Get Out of Jail Free card.
"Oh, you know.....the baby," I say gravely, pulling a long face and nodding slowly.
Of course, it only works because he actually is tremendously difficult and unpredictable.
Last night we had dinner with Burl and Fiend, delicious tacos and a big vat of guacamole.
The food was lovely, but after he grew weary. As recently adopted political beliefs proclaim sleeping beyond the reach of Fussland territorial waters to be treason, he made a fierce display to drive off Morpheus.
The parenting of babies can be accurately reduced to this gritty kernel- who's turn is it to fall on the grenade?
The possession arrow was not in my favor and so I ferried him home.
But an apocalypse well begun is not easily interrupted.
He howled and writhed as if my efforts were aimed more at exorcism than comfort, until at last exhaustion trumped ideology and he slipped into the sleep of the honest revolutionary.
I staggered into the kitchen, shell shocked, and scanned the freezer for ice cream, only to find the pint container reduced to a hollowed-out 1/4" at the very bottom, by spoon or spoons unknown.
true customer tales
two dingy reprobates browsing the boxes of comics:
reprobate #1
Dude, you sound like you got a monster in you!
reprobate #2
Well, that's what happens when you get carsick and eat clam chowder, man!
reprobate #1
Dude, you sound like you got a monster in you!
reprobate #2
Well, that's what happens when you get carsick and eat clam chowder, man!
Sunday, April 5, 2009
As predicted in the dead sea scrolls
We won best local bookstore- used in the local 'alternative' fishwrap the New Times.
Being last man standing has its privileges.
The poll is a joke.
In recent years the cancerous proliferation of categories has reached notable comic heights. The original Best Cafe award has split into best local cafe, best chain cafe, best latte, best cup of coffee, best cappuccino, best cafe with a patio, best cafe to meet your blind date at, etc etc.
It makes business sense- more winners equal more people to hit up for "thank you" ads. But the money grab is so naked I'm amazed they can still get away with it.
And of course your ad budget is the biggest indicator of electoral success.
I'm tempted to cross out 'best', write in 'only' and hang the commemorative plaque behind the counter. Technically we're not the only used book store left in the county, but the others only deal in pocket books. As far as I know we're the only real used book store left between SF and Santa Barbara.
Viva internet revolution!
Being last man standing has its privileges.
The poll is a joke.
In recent years the cancerous proliferation of categories has reached notable comic heights. The original Best Cafe award has split into best local cafe, best chain cafe, best latte, best cup of coffee, best cappuccino, best cafe with a patio, best cafe to meet your blind date at, etc etc.
It makes business sense- more winners equal more people to hit up for "thank you" ads. But the money grab is so naked I'm amazed they can still get away with it.
And of course your ad budget is the biggest indicator of electoral success.
I'm tempted to cross out 'best', write in 'only' and hang the commemorative plaque behind the counter. Technically we're not the only used book store left in the county, but the others only deal in pocket books. As far as I know we're the only real used book store left between SF and Santa Barbara.
Viva internet revolution!
true customer tales
surfer dude wanders in, strolls up to the counter and shouts in my general direction:
"DUDE, IT'S SUCH A GORGEOUS DAY OUT! DUDE, YOU ARE TOTALLY MISSING OUT DUDE!"
Thanks, I hadn't noticed.
"DUDE, IT'S SUCH A GORGEOUS DAY OUT! DUDE, YOU ARE TOTALLY MISSING OUT DUDE!"
Thanks, I hadn't noticed.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
meanderings
Fuss was, uh, challenging last night.
I think that's the approved definition.
The gals were over for dinner (semi-successful Quiche Lorraine with problematic crusts, more successful bleu cheese dressing over co-op greens)and he refused to miss a single moment of the excitement.
He finally went down at 11. Having tried everything else, I laid him on his blankie in the bed and sat down next to him, expecting another few hours of scrambling and fussing, but he was so exhausted that he just lay on his back and stared at the ceiling.
Sensing opportunity, I petted his chest and sang to him and after ten or so minutes of frozen staring his eye finally shuttered down to half mast. He fell asleep and woke up with a start several times before he finally settled down.
Alas, for the rest of the night he woke up every few hours and started shrieking at the top of his lungs. Night terrors? Past life memories? The oatmeal he had for breakfast?
A mystery.
He woke me up at 7 as usual, seemingly unsubdued by the traumas of the night, and we had coffee in the living room.
And thanks to whoever straightened up the kitchen!
That was a pleasant surprise.
I think that's the approved definition.
The gals were over for dinner (semi-successful Quiche Lorraine with problematic crusts, more successful bleu cheese dressing over co-op greens)and he refused to miss a single moment of the excitement.
He finally went down at 11. Having tried everything else, I laid him on his blankie in the bed and sat down next to him, expecting another few hours of scrambling and fussing, but he was so exhausted that he just lay on his back and stared at the ceiling.
Sensing opportunity, I petted his chest and sang to him and after ten or so minutes of frozen staring his eye finally shuttered down to half mast. He fell asleep and woke up with a start several times before he finally settled down.
Alas, for the rest of the night he woke up every few hours and started shrieking at the top of his lungs. Night terrors? Past life memories? The oatmeal he had for breakfast?
A mystery.
He woke me up at 7 as usual, seemingly unsubdued by the traumas of the night, and we had coffee in the living room.
And thanks to whoever straightened up the kitchen!
That was a pleasant surprise.
.jpg){kind=link}
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
clone wars
There's been some debate regarding the Fuss's appearance.
Not whether he looks like me (he does), so much as the wife declaring him my clone and making public comments along the lines of "yes, I birthed his spawn."
I have resisted this description up to now, pointing out what I felt was his mother's ears and feet in miniature (indisputable), her nose (a point of contention) and several features relevant to neither parent, namely his bright red hair and Scarlett Johansson-esque lips.
Alas, I am giving up the battle and declaring unconditional surrender.
Indeed, she birthed my spawn.
I found a briefcase full of slides in a closet this afternoon,taken by mom's dad Walter, an avid amateur photographer who worked only in that exotic format. I'd never seen any of them- there were pictures of dad graduating from college, pictures of me hours after my birth, pictures of one of my childhood dogs, a sheaf of crazy, disorienting stuff.
The most alarming was a photo of me at a few months old with a shock of reddish hair. My brain momentarily locked up, unable to reconcile how my long deceased grandfather had taken a picture of the Fuss.
There's some way to get slides onto a computer, isn't there?
I really need to get some of these on Flickr, they're amazing.
Not whether he looks like me (he does), so much as the wife declaring him my clone and making public comments along the lines of "yes, I birthed his spawn."
I have resisted this description up to now, pointing out what I felt was his mother's ears and feet in miniature (indisputable), her nose (a point of contention) and several features relevant to neither parent, namely his bright red hair and Scarlett Johansson-esque lips.
Alas, I am giving up the battle and declaring unconditional surrender.
Indeed, she birthed my spawn.
I found a briefcase full of slides in a closet this afternoon,taken by mom's dad Walter, an avid amateur photographer who worked only in that exotic format. I'd never seen any of them- there were pictures of dad graduating from college, pictures of me hours after my birth, pictures of one of my childhood dogs, a sheaf of crazy, disorienting stuff.
The most alarming was a photo of me at a few months old with a shock of reddish hair. My brain momentarily locked up, unable to reconcile how my long deceased grandfather had taken a picture of the Fuss.
There's some way to get slides onto a computer, isn't there?
I really need to get some of these on Flickr, they're amazing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)