Thursday, March 27, 2008


I was in a Valero gas station the other day, buying a couple of bottles of water for work. Because I had taken advantage of buying one particular brand, I was given an extra bottle for free, plus a free package of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.

But these weren't just any Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, but the "Collector's Edition" (I kid you not) ELVIS version.

What made them the Elvis version?

Well, his picture was on the wrapper. But these weren't normal Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, no sir. These were peanut butter cups that helped to commemorate what was probably the King's downfall, after all the drugs and self-loathing, of course:


Well, if there was banana in there, it was artificial banana and the fake banana flavor was almost completely masked by the peanut butter.

Elvis would not be happy.

At least they're not FRIED.

Oddly enough, rapidly rising up my Netflix queue is the Elvis '68 comeback special. It's legendary for being what I guess you'd call "really something." And I missed it when it aired in '68, so 40 years later I'm gonna check it out, thank you ver' mush.


Speaking of stuff that's bad for you, the guy who invented the Egg McMuffin died. 89 years old. I wonder when was the last time HE had one of those things?

I can't remember the last time I ate at McDonald's. Once your kids stop asking for it, you should stop going there. And I have, apparently.


Our egg saga has ended; Claude's eggs were infertile. She just...laid eggs. And after a while, she got bored with them and pecked them open. Nothing there. So we STILL don't know if Trey's a boy or not.



Christmas Boogie: The Chipmunks with Canned Heat, or is it Canned Heat with the Chipmunks?

Three songs from "An Evening with Wild Man Fischer"

Most of "Permanent Damage" by the GTOs

"Black Bear Road" by C.W. McCall

"Cholesterol Cabin" by Cub Koda

The entire acetate-only recording of "We're Only In It for the Money" by the Mothers of Invention (almost totally different than what eventually came out)


Last week I went to an open mic in Cave Creek. I got there late and went on late but I still sold a few CDs so I'm going back there again tonight, but earlier. More people to freak out...


My friend Matt is on the mend, out of the hospital and trying to get his land legs back. Hooray!


Tuesday, March 25, 2008


I got to thinking about my dad today and while I was thinking about him I got to wondering if the cemetery where he was at JUST MIGHT have an online list of interees, so that if I ever wanted to go out there again, I wouldn't be in some kind of comic search mission like the one I depicted on this blog last June.

Well, they don't, but the Catholic Cemeteries website certainly has some interesting things to say about what you can and CAN'T do at a Catholic cemetery. It brings to mind the old saying about disclaimers: If they feel obligated to post something SO OBVIOUS that even the dead would know better than to try it, then some schmuck tried it.

To wit:

"Since the Catholic cemetery is a sacred place, we observe a certain decorum when we visit. Cemetery rules and regulations are in place to insure that decorum. For example, to foster an atmosphere of prayer there should be no inappropriate behavior. The Cemetery is not a place for loud music, parties, drinking of alcoholic beverages or family cookouts..."


I can see it now: "Mama, quit crying over Papa and eat your hot dog!"

Anyway, back to the website:

"Burial spaces should not be disturbed."

If you take this sentence alone, that's just creepy, isn't it? I swear to God, officer, he was here last Tuesday when he buried him...

" Removing decorations or taking flowers from another's grave is most inappropriate."

Oh, oooooh. MOST inappropriate. It's OBNOXIOUS! THAT'S WHAT IT IS! But, if they have to mention it...you guessed it.

"If individuals or families witness the removal of decorations or are missing arrangements, they should advise the Cemetery's management immediately."

Who will then do what?

Which makes me wonder. In Jewish cemeteries, the tradition is to leave pebbles, rather than flowers, to show you've been there to visit your loved one. You leave the pebbles on the headstone. Now, I know that most cemeteries these days require flat headstones because that makes it easier to mow the lawn. The blades of the mower can be rolled over the headstones without actually hitting them. But what about the pebbles? Wouldn't that send little rock bullets careening across the graveyard, potentially creating more tenants?



Thursday, March 20, 2008


Any cat lovers out there who can tell me if this is for real?




I totally forgot today is Thursday. I left my guitar at home. Crap. Now I gotta go home before I go out to play. Waste of gas. Waste, waste, waste.


My body is used to my sleeping in a certain position. Last night I fell out of that position and boy did my back hurt when I woke up this morning.


I planted some rocoto (aka manzano) peppers recently and the little boogers have sprouted! Woo Hoo! I'm actually having a good gardening year, I've grown nearly two dozen perfectly edible carrots of various sizes in a single pot. I got some really nice radishes earlier this year along with Japanese cabbage. I'm growing (and feeding my iguana with) collared greens, which are doing nicely, my celantro is positively bushy and now if I could just get the beets I planted to get bigger, I'd be a happy guy. And I don't even like beets. But Brendan does.

Plus, a spinach plant, the seed of which I planted like TWO YEARS ago, has suddenly decided to wake up.

I like eating stuff I make happen. Yum.


Thursday, March 13, 2008


My friend Pete called me yesterday with this joke:

Rene Descartes is sitting in a bar. The bartender comes over. "Another beer, Rene?"

Descarted replies, "I think not."

And he disappeared.

That joke got me wondering, and thanks to the internet I can tell you that there are actually several places where you can find Rene Descartes jokes. But I'll print some here:

For example:

Rene was busy putting the last touches to a lavish table spread with all
sorts of goodies at the annual Descartes' New Year's Party.

The guests arrived and Rene was mingling with them and astounding them
with his alacrity of thought, when Mrs. Descartes called to him to take out
the special New Year's meat pies. He placed them on a sideboard away from
the main table -- intended for the traditional post midnight revel repast.

Still mingling, he espied a hungry guest heading over to the meat pies.
Like a flash he was upon him.

"Not now Monsieur, he cried, "I think they're for 1 a.m.!"

Or how about:

What is the error of saying,
"I am, therefore I think"?

You end up placing de Horace before Descartes!

I'm on a roll, I tell ya...:

Did you know that Rene Descartes met the Hunchback of Notre Dame?

They were both visiting Paris, and met on a ferry crossing the famous
river. Somehow Quasimodo fell overboard. He disappeared under the water
because of the weight of handbells he was carrying on his belt.

As Descartes began a rescue, he shouted, "Quasimodo, I see where you
are," and he jumped in to save his friend.

However, he found Quasimodo was already headed toward shore. He seemed to be
running across the bottom, but then Descartes saw he was dancing!
Descartes signed to him: "What are you doing that for?" Quasimodo signed
back, "Save yourself! I'm happy. I'm just Ringing In The Seine!!"

So Rene reached the shore by bobbing up and down.

An onlooker asked, "How did you do that?"

"I'm a Cartesian diver," replied Descartes. "I realize, 'I sink.'
Therefore I swam."

Q: Why did the chicken cross the road?
Rene Descartes: It had sufficient reason to believe it was dreaming anyway.

Thank you folks, I'm here all week!


Bird Update: Claudette is still sitting on her eggs. We looked up conures and found that it takes about three weeks for their eggs to hatch. So if she's still paying attention to them a week from this Sunday we're going to go buy some hand-feeding gear and baby bird food. Just in case.


One of my best pals ever, Matt Turney, is in the hospital on life support. Long story short, if you think you might have diabetes, go find out, okay? If you know Matt, send good thoughts in the direction of Lincoln Deer Valley Hospital.


Monday, March 10, 2008


If you've ever been to our house, you know we have pets.

Four of them.

Dweezil the dog. Lives in the house. Has a general idea that he actually runs things.

Gremmie the 5.5-foot iguana. Has never -- and will never -- understand the concept of glass.

Trey and Claude. Conures. Noisy. We moved them in together about 10 years ago so that they would stop yelling at each other every morning at sunrise.

The two settled into a nice, quiet relationship as two confirmed bachelors. Trey, the neat, quiet Felix Unger. Claude, the loud, messy Oscar Madison. Two guys, living together in a penthouse cage.

Or so we thought.

Yesterday, we discovered that Claude is...well...Claudette.

Sometime Sunday morning she laid an egg.

Then on Sunday afternoon she laid another one.

Currently she's protecting them like we're gonna have baby birds, but only time will tell.

Anybody out there ever had this predicament? I mean, Claude is easily over 20 years old because I bought him (her) used when Adam was a toddler. And Adam hasn't toddled in months. HUNDREDS of months. And Trey? He's about 11 so I guess he had it in him, but I didn't think he had it in him.

Of course, everybody told us that they were CERTAIN both birds were boys. But that's odd because conures are almost impossible to sex unless you get one with a yellow beak. Which I only found out yesterday. All yellow beaks: Female. (That's Claude.) Yellow beak with color stripe: Male. (Neither bird.) Black Beak: Good luck! Anybody's guess.

So now we sit and wait. If they did take and there's birds on the way, these should be some pretty colorful birds, given the genetics involved.

I'll keep you posted.


This years induction ceremonies for the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame happen tonight. Honorees are:

Madonna, John Mellencamp, the Dave Clark Five, the Ventures and Leonard Cohen.

Okay, you can argue that Madonna is not rock and roll. But "pop" music is in its own way a form of rock, so shut up.
(Besides, she's a self-made billionaire, like her or not. Which I don't. But that deserves some respect.)

John Mellencamp: Damn straight. You hear his songs on the radio and you know you've heard them a billion times but I know I always listen anyway. And a guy who writes a song called "R-O-C-K in the USA" knows he's headed for the hall.

Dave Clark Five: It's about freakin' time. It's only sad that due to the recent deaths of two members (see my previous post), it's only gonna be the Dave Clark Three at the show tonight.
Funny how you don't hear too much about the Dave Clark Five anymore. They were once the only real threat to the Beatles in this country for popularity. When they hung it up, they REALLY hung it up. Dave Clark owned all the songs and took them off the market for almost 25 years. In the meantime, he bought up a pile of classic English TV shows and became extremely rich licensing pieces of them to shows and selling tapes of them back in the VHS days. (Oddly enough, he ended up owning a piece of the Beatles legacy because he owned the rights to "Ready Steady Go," an "American Bandstand"-style show that ran in England in the Early 60s. A huge-selling tape, "The Beatles on Ready Steady Go," made Clark a multi-millionaire several times over.

You knew it was Dave Clark's band, too. He was the only drummer (in memory) to insist that his drum kit be placed IN FRONT of the rest of the band! I have a friend who saw the DC5 in Detroit around 1965, and Clark's Drum Kit was literally lifted on hydraulics through a hole in the stage, with Clark banging away. He may not have been the lead singer in his own band but he certainly let you know who's name was on the marquee!

The Ventures: Again, WHAT TOOK 'EM SO LONG???

Of COURSE the Ventures belong in the R&R HOF. Name a SINGLE guitar player who hasn't tried to play either the chords or melody (or both) to "Walk, Don't Run." You can't, because such a person does NOT EXIST.

Leonard Cohen: The finest poetic songwriter of all time. His song "Who By Fire" sends chills down my spine even thinking about it and if you were lucky enough to see the night Cohen performed that song with Sonny Rollins on the old show "Night Music," you know you've witnessed one of the most literally show-stopping, time-freezing moments in TV history. You can see it if you go to Youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j2T274bXIxU

Suffice to say that "Who By Fire" is probably not the song you want to listen to on Yom Kippur...

(IF you're not familiar with "Who By Fire," then perhaps you know some of Cohen's other tunes: "Suzanne," "Bird on a Wire," "Famous Blue Raincoat," etc. etc. etc.)

Congrats, all!


This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?