Monday, September 30, 2019
Waiting on a bus at Northcross Mall, circa 2010
One of the moments in my life that I remember:
The wind, the sun, the desolation.
The bus anticipation. Two JC Penney's shirts in my bag.
The wind, the sun, the desolation.
The bus anticipation. Two JC Penney's shirts in my bag.
Good cop/bad cop
Workplace example:
One of the directors was trying to schedule a meeting with those of us in the Media Group who were involved with the upcoming Annual Report.
The director, for the past 2 weeks, sent out an invitation for 10am Thursday. EXACTLY the time of our only weekly Media Group meeting.
Each time, I declined the meeting from the director, responding: "This time is the weekly meeting of the Media Group. I can never make this meeting time. Any other time available?"
And, simultaneously, the boss of my Media Group was responding: "Sure. Perfect time."
Sheep/non-sheep.
One of the directors was trying to schedule a meeting with those of us in the Media Group who were involved with the upcoming Annual Report.
The director, for the past 2 weeks, sent out an invitation for 10am Thursday. EXACTLY the time of our only weekly Media Group meeting.
Each time, I declined the meeting from the director, responding: "This time is the weekly meeting of the Media Group. I can never make this meeting time. Any other time available?"
And, simultaneously, the boss of my Media Group was responding: "Sure. Perfect time."
Sheep/non-sheep.
Sunday, September 29, 2019
George Jones & Tammy Wynette - One (1995)
After the fire. Tammy died of a prescription drug overdose in 1998.
Saturday, September 28, 2019
Saturday: Second set of cat spaying
Mama Hennessy and Peter two weeks ago went relatively easily. (No one was expecting anything, so the protests were only AFTER I got them into their cages.)
This morning: I dropped baby Solomon easily into a carrier, but Sasha...It got violent. She ran and ran and ran and ran. I'd already closed the doors to the bedrooms, but she crashed into the bathroom shower and knocked over every shampoo bottle, ran back out and hid in every spot available. After 15 minutes of chasing and grabbing at her throughout my apartment, I finally captured her in the bathroom, clutching her with a towel and then dumping her in the carrier. It was all very traumatic. For me, because I hated to be the violent "enemy." (And I did have to end up being violent with her --- clutching her seriously despite her struggles.) But much more for her, because she didn't know what the hell was going on, just running and running, blind and scared. Surprisingly, I only ended up with one tiny scratch. (Most of her struggles were muscular instead of with claws.)
After dropping these two off at the spaying place at 8am, I picked them up around 5pm. As with Henny and Peter 2 weeks ago, once home, I delivered the two carriers to the spare room, along with food/water and the spare litter box. Both Solomon and Sasha, as with Henny and Peter, immediately dashed instead to my bedroom, under the bed.
About an hour ago, I was going about my business in the apartment and all of a sudden noticed that Solomon had crept out to the living room for the first time... As soon as she saw me looking at her, she ran back to my bedroom. I'm sad, because she used to love me.
Update just now (midnight Friday): Solomon and Sasha dashed in tandem out into the living-room world! Sasha is jumping up on my chair, etc. (seemingly too soon after an operation), and Solomon is traipsing all over the place. Miraculous dual recovery! (Sasha just jumped on my lap and she's tensely quivering, so I think she's still on the ketamine they gave her earlier.)
This morning: I dropped baby Solomon easily into a carrier, but Sasha...It got violent. She ran and ran and ran and ran. I'd already closed the doors to the bedrooms, but she crashed into the bathroom shower and knocked over every shampoo bottle, ran back out and hid in every spot available. After 15 minutes of chasing and grabbing at her throughout my apartment, I finally captured her in the bathroom, clutching her with a towel and then dumping her in the carrier. It was all very traumatic. For me, because I hated to be the violent "enemy." (And I did have to end up being violent with her --- clutching her seriously despite her struggles.) But much more for her, because she didn't know what the hell was going on, just running and running, blind and scared. Surprisingly, I only ended up with one tiny scratch. (Most of her struggles were muscular instead of with claws.)
After dropping these two off at the spaying place at 8am, I picked them up around 5pm. As with Henny and Peter 2 weeks ago, once home, I delivered the two carriers to the spare room, along with food/water and the spare litter box. Both Solomon and Sasha, as with Henny and Peter, immediately dashed instead to my bedroom, under the bed.
About an hour ago, I was going about my business in the apartment and all of a sudden noticed that Solomon had crept out to the living room for the first time... As soon as she saw me looking at her, she ran back to my bedroom. I'm sad, because she used to love me.
Update just now (midnight Friday): Solomon and Sasha dashed in tandem out into the living-room world! Sasha is jumping up on my chair, etc. (seemingly too soon after an operation), and Solomon is traipsing all over the place. Miraculous dual recovery! (Sasha just jumped on my lap and she's tensely quivering, so I think she's still on the ketamine they gave her earlier.)
Wednesday, September 25, 2019
Dolly Parton - I Will Always Love You - 1974
Unromantic as it may be: Parton wrote this as a farewell song to longtime employer/mentor Porter Wagoner.
Tuesday, September 24, 2019
Dolly Parton - 9 To 5 (Official Video)
Found out last Friday that a new editor, a 32-year-old guy with only 4 months' editing experience, was hired with the same salary as me (20 years' editing experience, same education level, etc.). Monday, submitted my official request for an appropriate raise (at least $5K above what this guy is making). We'll see what happens.
Monday, September 23, 2019
Friday, September 20, 2019
Comfortable
I think that my financial/work life is about to change. I've grown used to my 1200-sq-ft apartment and the rent that goes with it. I've grown used to being able to pay for stuff without thinking about it: car repairs, cat repairs. I've been able to order whatever cheap CDs, books, Old Navy clothes I wanted.
Question is: Am I willing to make a huge change based on principle, with the accompanying hardship, rather than continuing on with a mild level of comfort but at a place where I'm not fairly treated? At 54, do I have the energy to search for a new job --- knowing that the next thing could very well be worse? (At 30, 35, 40, you make those gambles---or, at least, I did... Into your fifties, though?)
Addendum 9/23: RE the above "mystery": A local paper, the "Texas Tribune," publishes exact Texas government-worker salaries every 2 years or so. A 32-year-old guy with very, very little editing experience was hired as an editor in my department 9 months ago (we were very busy, and the first four candidates turned us down). His annual salary, which I just learned from the Tribune last Friday, is only $1700 less than mine. Today, Monday, I requested a raise. (Based on credentials, I should be making $10K per year more than him, but I requested somewhat less.) We'll see what happens. I'm anticipating that they'll turn me down and that I'll leave.
Question is: Am I willing to make a huge change based on principle, with the accompanying hardship, rather than continuing on with a mild level of comfort but at a place where I'm not fairly treated? At 54, do I have the energy to search for a new job --- knowing that the next thing could very well be worse? (At 30, 35, 40, you make those gambles---or, at least, I did... Into your fifties, though?)
Addendum 9/23: RE the above "mystery": A local paper, the "Texas Tribune," publishes exact Texas government-worker salaries every 2 years or so. A 32-year-old guy with very, very little editing experience was hired as an editor in my department 9 months ago (we were very busy, and the first four candidates turned us down). His annual salary, which I just learned from the Tribune last Friday, is only $1700 less than mine. Today, Monday, I requested a raise. (Based on credentials, I should be making $10K per year more than him, but I requested somewhat less.) We'll see what happens. I'm anticipating that they'll turn me down and that I'll leave.
Post-50: Revising "the pursuit of Happiness"
From the "Declaration of Independence":
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
At 54, I'll revise "the pursuit of Happiness" to "the desire to avoid any further pain." Such is ageing.
Sunday, September 15, 2019
Sports-Fan Refresh
I'm a Texan who grew up in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. And I've lived primarily in Austin for the past 35+ years, graduating from UT in 1993. For the past 10 years or so, I've made do with one UT Longhorns T-shirt and a burnt-orange (but no-logo) sweatshirt. Cowboys-wise: One T-shirt and one sweatshirt.
There come a time for a refresh.
While cleaning out drawers a couple of weeks ago, I happened to try on that old Longhorns T-shirt... It was a "Medium" and "Medium" no longer fits me!
Got to ordering online... Think I'm now stocked up for a while: New Texas and Cowboys hoodies, and two new Texas T's. Not that I'm going to any gatherings or anything, but sometimes I like to wake up on a game day and support.
Friday the 13th: Spay (and Neuter) Day
The beginning wasn't horrible. I put extra treats in the cats' food dishes about a half-hour before midnight, to ensure that they'd all be attracted to eat right before midnight, since the food dishes had to be taken away at midnight. Post-midnight, I put all food away and filled all dishes with water. Nobody seemed too freaked out.
In the morning, I didn't shower because I wanted to be out of the house immediately so the cats wouldn't be expecting their morning refresh for the food.
And getting Hennessy and Peter into the carriers also was not a problem. They weren't expecting anything, so I was able to grab and plop right in! The problem came once they were locked in: After about 10 seconds, the blood-curdling YOWLING started. The two caged beasts had to sit there for a minute in my hallway while I supplied the other two with the food that they'd been deprived of all night. They yowled. And yowled the whole time that I toted the carriers to my car. Sorry, neighbors.
Once in the car at 7:30am, and once on the road, I had a window-fog problem. The defroster wasn't working, or else I couldn't figure out how to set it right, but at any rate, I couldn't see while driving on some major roadways and so rolled my windows partially down to help clear the fog --- and of course the sound of traffic further freaked out the still-yowling cats, who had, of course, never been in a car before. The fogged-up windows persisted all of the way to the Emancipet clinic. (Normally, I leave for work around 8:15am --- and in warm-weather months rarely experience fogged windows; I guess that 45 minutes really makes a difference...)
Yowls and fog aside, I made it to the Emancipet clinic relatively painlessly in the traffic, arriving about 10 'til 8. There was a homeless mentally-ill young woman camped out at the door with her dog. I tried to make small talk with her: "Have you been here before?" She said "No," then said "Yes." Then she started asking me to do things for her, like hand her her bag, which was sitting only 1 foot away from her. Other people started to arrive, all with dogs, and the young homeless woman asked EVERYONE how old their dog was just so she could say, "So my dog's not the youngest then."
By the time 8:05 arrived, there were probably 25 people there --- every single one of them with dogs. Some barking, some rough-housing. Some of the pet-owners were hanging back from the entrance, but plenty of others were crowded around the entrance, where I was. My cats were still in their carriers in the back seat of my car. Quiet now, I'm sure freaked out by all the dog activity very close by. Once the doors to the clinic opened, the staff asked that we all line up in order of arrival... So I hauled my two cat carriers out and stood there in the midst of all the leashed dogs. The terrified yowling started again. And I don't blame them.
Once inside the door, an employee took my cats in their carriers to the back and asked me to have a seat. I'd already filled out the page-long paperwork and brought it with me. After a half-hour, someone saw me, asked me a few questions, and allowed me to leave.
I haven't had a cat in 10 years, but prior to that I have had cats that I took to regular vets. And the vets would ask you into the examination room with your pets and talk to you as they took the pets out of the carrier and interacted with them. Not so this time.
About 4:15pm, I got the call that the cats would be ready for checkout at 5pm. Peter had an undescended testicle, so his surgery was a bit more difficult, but nothing serious. When I arrived, things were quieter in the reception area, not the chaos of the morning. A doctor brought out Hennessy and Peter in their carriers. Hennessy's tail was jammed through the grill. The doctor said he'd tried petting it to get her to withdraw it inside the carrier, but she was too drugged up and/or scared to do so. She'd also peed on the towel, so they'd set an old towel inside the carrier and had the now-drying pee-stained towel draped over the top.
Both cats had been given ketamine for their operations and were shivering/shaking and swaying back-and-forth in their cages. (It makes me sick to know that young people willingly take ketamine recreationally.) Both were silent all the way home.
Once home, I put Hennessy and Peter in the spare room, along with the extra litter box and food/water. (I'd been advised that they needed a quiet space to themselves.) Once I opened their cages, Peter immediate ran out of the room and under the bed of my bedroom. Hennessy came out of her cage, but then wobbled back and forth and collapsed and then staggered away from me when I tried to touch her. I closed the door. When I came back 20 minutes later, she again freaked out and ran away. This time, I left the door open.
Later in the evening, both Hennessy and Peter came out into the living room, where I, along with Solomon and Sasha, had our usual places on or around the couch. Hennessy sat for a bit on the carpet, then retreated back under the bed of the bedroom. Peter eventually settled at the side of the couch. The next day, Saturday, Hennessy moved to the blinds in the kitchen, where she used to sit while watching her former outdoor life. She moved from beside the blinds to under the kitchen table. As the day wore on, and I was sorting laundry, she came to quietly watch what I was doing. Peter, during the day, found his way back to his place at the front window. Then he took his usual interest in my activities like laundry, etc. Then he started jumping up on the couch with me! (Which he wasn't supposed to do: No Jumping!) :)
As I write this at 1am, Mama Hennessy has jumped up to the back of the couch (her usual spot) to watch me as I write at my computer table, and Peter is lying at my feet (after he overenthusiastically climbed on my lap via his way to the computer table numerous times; I had to make him get down, all the while saying, "Be careful of your balls, honey. Please stop!").
p.s. The "other two," Sasha and Solomon, had a definite reaction to the initial absence and then reappearance of their family members. One, Solomon hissed at Peter. I guess because he smelled of the hospital and it scared her. Also: Both Sasha and Solomon were extremely much more affectionate with me once we all arrived back home. Solomon has always been affectionate, but this time he/she (still can't tell) was super-demanding. Not just lying on my belly every time I was supine, but also climbing on my lap even when I was upright and eating, which he/she had never done before. Same with Sasha. Usually the most aloof, she was constantly rubbing against me and lying on top of me when I was lying down. I HATE to think that they're trying, in their kitty psychology, to avoid being "sent away" like Hennessy and Peter were. Although... in 2 weeks, you two guys WILL be sent away! But look! Everybody comes home again! It'll be OK! :)
In the morning, I didn't shower because I wanted to be out of the house immediately so the cats wouldn't be expecting their morning refresh for the food.
And getting Hennessy and Peter into the carriers also was not a problem. They weren't expecting anything, so I was able to grab and plop right in! The problem came once they were locked in: After about 10 seconds, the blood-curdling YOWLING started. The two caged beasts had to sit there for a minute in my hallway while I supplied the other two with the food that they'd been deprived of all night. They yowled. And yowled the whole time that I toted the carriers to my car. Sorry, neighbors.
Once in the car at 7:30am, and once on the road, I had a window-fog problem. The defroster wasn't working, or else I couldn't figure out how to set it right, but at any rate, I couldn't see while driving on some major roadways and so rolled my windows partially down to help clear the fog --- and of course the sound of traffic further freaked out the still-yowling cats, who had, of course, never been in a car before. The fogged-up windows persisted all of the way to the Emancipet clinic. (Normally, I leave for work around 8:15am --- and in warm-weather months rarely experience fogged windows; I guess that 45 minutes really makes a difference...)
Yowls and fog aside, I made it to the Emancipet clinic relatively painlessly in the traffic, arriving about 10 'til 8. There was a homeless mentally-ill young woman camped out at the door with her dog. I tried to make small talk with her: "Have you been here before?" She said "No," then said "Yes." Then she started asking me to do things for her, like hand her her bag, which was sitting only 1 foot away from her. Other people started to arrive, all with dogs, and the young homeless woman asked EVERYONE how old their dog was just so she could say, "So my dog's not the youngest then."
By the time 8:05 arrived, there were probably 25 people there --- every single one of them with dogs. Some barking, some rough-housing. Some of the pet-owners were hanging back from the entrance, but plenty of others were crowded around the entrance, where I was. My cats were still in their carriers in the back seat of my car. Quiet now, I'm sure freaked out by all the dog activity very close by. Once the doors to the clinic opened, the staff asked that we all line up in order of arrival... So I hauled my two cat carriers out and stood there in the midst of all the leashed dogs. The terrified yowling started again. And I don't blame them.
Once inside the door, an employee took my cats in their carriers to the back and asked me to have a seat. I'd already filled out the page-long paperwork and brought it with me. After a half-hour, someone saw me, asked me a few questions, and allowed me to leave.
I haven't had a cat in 10 years, but prior to that I have had cats that I took to regular vets. And the vets would ask you into the examination room with your pets and talk to you as they took the pets out of the carrier and interacted with them. Not so this time.
About 4:15pm, I got the call that the cats would be ready for checkout at 5pm. Peter had an undescended testicle, so his surgery was a bit more difficult, but nothing serious. When I arrived, things were quieter in the reception area, not the chaos of the morning. A doctor brought out Hennessy and Peter in their carriers. Hennessy's tail was jammed through the grill. The doctor said he'd tried petting it to get her to withdraw it inside the carrier, but she was too drugged up and/or scared to do so. She'd also peed on the towel, so they'd set an old towel inside the carrier and had the now-drying pee-stained towel draped over the top.
Both cats had been given ketamine for their operations and were shivering/shaking and swaying back-and-forth in their cages. (It makes me sick to know that young people willingly take ketamine recreationally.) Both were silent all the way home.
Once home, I put Hennessy and Peter in the spare room, along with the extra litter box and food/water. (I'd been advised that they needed a quiet space to themselves.) Once I opened their cages, Peter immediate ran out of the room and under the bed of my bedroom. Hennessy came out of her cage, but then wobbled back and forth and collapsed and then staggered away from me when I tried to touch her. I closed the door. When I came back 20 minutes later, she again freaked out and ran away. This time, I left the door open.
Later in the evening, both Hennessy and Peter came out into the living room, where I, along with Solomon and Sasha, had our usual places on or around the couch. Hennessy sat for a bit on the carpet, then retreated back under the bed of the bedroom. Peter eventually settled at the side of the couch. The next day, Saturday, Hennessy moved to the blinds in the kitchen, where she used to sit while watching her former outdoor life. She moved from beside the blinds to under the kitchen table. As the day wore on, and I was sorting laundry, she came to quietly watch what I was doing. Peter, during the day, found his way back to his place at the front window. Then he took his usual interest in my activities like laundry, etc. Then he started jumping up on the couch with me! (Which he wasn't supposed to do: No Jumping!) :)
As I write this at 1am, Mama Hennessy has jumped up to the back of the couch (her usual spot) to watch me as I write at my computer table, and Peter is lying at my feet (after he overenthusiastically climbed on my lap via his way to the computer table numerous times; I had to make him get down, all the while saying, "Be careful of your balls, honey. Please stop!").
p.s. The "other two," Sasha and Solomon, had a definite reaction to the initial absence and then reappearance of their family members. One, Solomon hissed at Peter. I guess because he smelled of the hospital and it scared her. Also: Both Sasha and Solomon were extremely much more affectionate with me once we all arrived back home. Solomon has always been affectionate, but this time he/she (still can't tell) was super-demanding. Not just lying on my belly every time I was supine, but also climbing on my lap even when I was upright and eating, which he/she had never done before. Same with Sasha. Usually the most aloof, she was constantly rubbing against me and lying on top of me when I was lying down. I HATE to think that they're trying, in their kitty psychology, to avoid being "sent away" like Hennessy and Peter were. Although... in 2 weeks, you two guys WILL be sent away! But look! Everybody comes home again! It'll be OK! :)
Friday, September 13, 2019
RIP Daniel Johnston
RIP Daniel Johnston. What Austin used to be like---gently weird and mildly disturbing. Today: Generic aggressive tech assholes and traffic.
Thursday, September 12, 2019
Friday the 13th: A Day of Hell Coming Up
Gotta take Mama Hennessy and Peter in to get fixed at 8am Friday.
(1) I have to take the food away from all cats at midnight. (Henny and Peter per instruction because of their upcoming procedure---a dictum that, unfortunately, includes Sasha and Solomon, also.) They're not gonna understand.
(2) I have to chase and stuff Hennessy and Peter into carriers tomorrow morning.
(3) I have to drive to the Emancipet location, which, despite my trial run this morning, I still don't quite know how to get to. It involves massive highways and exits, and the Google directions weren't quite clear (as I discovered this morning). I'm going to be scared, and my cats are obviously going to be scared because they've never been in a car before. With someone who doesn't quite know where she's going.
Not looking forward to Friday the 13th.
That said: I need to pretend to be the middle-aged adult that I am and just DO all of the above in a stalwart fashion. All of the cats will be curious about where their food has gone. And Henny and Pete will obviously be freaked out about what's happening to them. I can't think about their psyches, just have to DO what I have to do.
(1) I have to take the food away from all cats at midnight. (Henny and Peter per instruction because of their upcoming procedure---a dictum that, unfortunately, includes Sasha and Solomon, also.) They're not gonna understand.
(2) I have to chase and stuff Hennessy and Peter into carriers tomorrow morning.
(3) I have to drive to the Emancipet location, which, despite my trial run this morning, I still don't quite know how to get to. It involves massive highways and exits, and the Google directions weren't quite clear (as I discovered this morning). I'm going to be scared, and my cats are obviously going to be scared because they've never been in a car before. With someone who doesn't quite know where she's going.
Not looking forward to Friday the 13th.
That said: I need to pretend to be the middle-aged adult that I am and just DO all of the above in a stalwart fashion. All of the cats will be curious about where their food has gone. And Henny and Pete will obviously be freaked out about what's happening to them. I can't think about their psyches, just have to DO what I have to do.
Happy Birthday, George Jones!
1965 hit "The Race Is On" performed in 1995.
I was trying to leave work today at five 'til 5, to beat traffic. But ended up talking with a co-worker for about 10 minutes... When I got to my car, the very last 20 seconds of "The Race Is On" was playing on Austin's alternative station KUTX 98.9, and then the DJ reminded me that it was George's birthday! What a brief treat! (I NEVER hear George on the radio!)
I was trying to leave work today at five 'til 5, to beat traffic. But ended up talking with a co-worker for about 10 minutes... When I got to my car, the very last 20 seconds of "The Race Is On" was playing on Austin's alternative station KUTX 98.9, and then the DJ reminded me that it was George's birthday! What a brief treat! (I NEVER hear George on the radio!)
Tuesday, September 10, 2019
I Always Get It Right With You (George Jones w' Shelby Lynne, 2008)
Maybe I cursed when I should have prayed...
Emancipet now in Central Austin
As of September 6, turns out Emancipet Austin now has a Central location at which to get your pets fixed. Found this out after Saturday's disastrous, unsuccessful trip out to the Far South location. I then re-visited their website, trying to find an alternate route --- and discovered that there is now, as of September 6, a Central location. I then called them, asking to re-schedule my four cat appointments to the new place. Done! And weeks earlier than previously scheduled. And 8 miles closer to where I live, sans all of the construction. And thank goodness. Peter has been trying to hump his mother all week. And he's only 5 months old. The new spay/neuter schedule:
Peter and Mama Hennessy: This Friday, the 13th.
Sasha and Solomon: Saturday, September 28th.
I'm still tense about it: Mama H was a wild stray, and the 3 kittens have never been out of this apartment. Everyone is going to be freaked out by getting "trapped" in their carriers and then hauled off to the car, and then traveling in the car. And by not being allowed food since midnight the night before their appointments. And then getting stuck in a clinical environment and getting cut up. Not to mention, I still don't know how to get to this place, even if it's "Central" and not "Far South."
Just suck it up, Steph...and cats. p.s. Below are tonight's photos of BAD CATS, up on the counter where they're not allowed! :) Top two: Mama Hennessy and Solomon. Three: Solomon tongue (in my experience, black cats have always been silky and weird, my favorites). Four: Peter (Mama look-alike), whose balls will soon be cut off. (Sasha is the good cat, not pictured up on the counter.)
Peter and Mama Hennessy: This Friday, the 13th.
Sasha and Solomon: Saturday, September 28th.
I'm still tense about it: Mama H was a wild stray, and the 3 kittens have never been out of this apartment. Everyone is going to be freaked out by getting "trapped" in their carriers and then hauled off to the car, and then traveling in the car. And by not being allowed food since midnight the night before their appointments. And then getting stuck in a clinical environment and getting cut up. Not to mention, I still don't know how to get to this place, even if it's "Central" and not "Far South."
Just suck it up, Steph...and cats. p.s. Below are tonight's photos of BAD CATS, up on the counter where they're not allowed! :) Top two: Mama Hennessy and Solomon. Three: Solomon tongue (in my experience, black cats have always been silky and weird, my favorites). Four: Peter (Mama look-alike), whose balls will soon be cut off. (Sasha is the good cat, not pictured up on the counter.)
Sunday, September 08, 2019
Trying to Find Emancipet
On September 21, I have an appointment across town to get two of my cats --- Hennessy and Peter --- fixed at Emancipet ($69 per cat instead of $200-something).
Today, being utterly unfamiliar with the highways leading to that part of town, I did a Google search for directions and then made a trial run. (Because on Sept. 21, I didn't want to be searching for exits with two scared cats in my car.)
183 South was the specific highway I was supposed to take. Got on that OK. But a few miles south, the entire landscape turned into a mass of construction work. I had on paper what exit I was supposed to take, but that exit no longer existed. I took one detour exit, two exits, three exits --- all led to dead-ends where I was forced to turn around and get back on 183... and then forced to more dead ends.
My unsuccessful attempts to find Emancipet took over an hour today. I was extremely tense once the construction kicked in, but at least I didn't have any kittens with me during it.
I can't express enough how disgusted I am with the big piles of shit and bullshit signs that I encountered today. Google directions were wrong. The signs along the road were wrong.
Today, being utterly unfamiliar with the highways leading to that part of town, I did a Google search for directions and then made a trial run. (Because on Sept. 21, I didn't want to be searching for exits with two scared cats in my car.)
183 South was the specific highway I was supposed to take. Got on that OK. But a few miles south, the entire landscape turned into a mass of construction work. I had on paper what exit I was supposed to take, but that exit no longer existed. I took one detour exit, two exits, three exits --- all led to dead-ends where I was forced to turn around and get back on 183... and then forced to more dead ends.
My unsuccessful attempts to find Emancipet took over an hour today. I was extremely tense once the construction kicked in, but at least I didn't have any kittens with me during it.
I can't express enough how disgusted I am with the big piles of shit and bullshit signs that I encountered today. Google directions were wrong. The signs along the road were wrong.
Entertaining the troops
[Blogger has been messed up for the past few weeks. I have to add a white background to make sure the text shows up. Sorry for the ugly.]
Got indoor kitties? Gotta keep 'em entertained.
p.s. This is the first time I've ever had purely indoor cats. And FOUR of them.
In the past when I had cats, I'd let 'em out in the morning, and let 'em in when I got home from work. I trusted that they'd entertain themselves.
Yeah, they did entertain themselves, but they also got run over.
After 10 years of not having a cat, this time I'm going to keep all of my cats indoors. And do what I can to entertain them.
After 10 years of not having a cat, this time I'm going to keep all of my cats indoors. And do what I can to entertain them.
Tuesday, September 03, 2019
OH LONESOME ME: Don Gibson (1958)
The first album my Uncle Monte bought was Don Gibson's, which included this song (1958).
Monday, September 02, 2019
20 days after your pregnant wife has been murdered...
... please do go and pose for "Life" magazine, you piece of shit.
The above reminds me of a Facebook scene about 5 years ago: A friend of my brother's that I'd known since he was a kid had a wife who had gone into a coma while in childbirth. The guy immediately started posting pictures on Facebook of the wife while she was in a coma, including him doing her nails. She died. He re-married a mere 6 months later (and posted pictures the whole time he was dating the new woman). Scummy.
First Recollection (Charles Manson, 1984)
I was in the back of this horse-drawn wagon
Some kids had a bucket over my head
They were poundin' on the bucket
The people drivin' the wagon (Uncle Jess)
Looked over the seat, down at me
And told me to "Shut up that racket"
Some kids had a bucket over my head
They were poundin' on the bucket
The people drivin' the wagon (Uncle Jess)
Looked over the seat, down at me
And told me to "Shut up that racket"
5 days of vacation: Got hardly anything done.
[Sorry about the background: Blogger isn't posting correctly, had to maneuver to get the text to appear not black against a black background.]
I slept a WHOLE lot. I read new books about Manson (by former followers Squeaky Fromme and Dianne Lake) and re-read old books about Manson (Helter Skelter, In His Own Words, The Manson File).
I slept a WHOLE lot. I read new books about Manson (by former followers Squeaky Fromme and Dianne Lake) and re-read old books about Manson (Helter Skelter, In His Own Words, The Manson File).
Apartment-upkeep-wise, which was my original main goal: I did put together one new bookshelf. But did NOT dispose of my old carpet (victim of flood at my old apartment and poop when I first got my kittens at my new apartment) and lay out my new carpet. (I also did not clean my bathrooms.)
I also did NOT take copyediting and proofing tests for a company I'm interested in. And I did NOT make a trial highway run to the place where my cats are getting spayed/neutered in 3 weeks. (Don't want to do the strange drive cold.)
But I DID do simple grocery shopping AND take my car to a drive-through carwash. My car has gotten filthy over the past year simply because I thought there were only two options for cleaning a car: (1) You have to get out and plug in quarters based on how long you think the cleaning will take you and then do the scrubbing yourself (plus the saving up of quarters); or (2) Pay $30 for a full service wash and interior vacuum/cleaning. I tried the latter a year or so ago, and the interior wasn't at all cleaned properly. Seemed like a big waste.
A couple of weeks ago, a co-worker explained about a third option: Just go to a drive-through carwash for $8/$10/$12/$14, based on the level of service. (1) I didn't know where such a thing was located. (2) All levels seemed like a lot of money. But I did find such a carwash, and paid for the $10 level. The result: Under 5 minutes of high-powered rags swishing at the car was not worth $10! And all of the built-up dirt was not gone. But, hey, I tried. I didn't like the car looking scruffy; it does look better now.
I also did NOT take copyediting and proofing tests for a company I'm interested in. And I did NOT make a trial highway run to the place where my cats are getting spayed/neutered in 3 weeks. (Don't want to do the strange drive cold.)
But I DID do simple grocery shopping AND take my car to a drive-through carwash. My car has gotten filthy over the past year simply because I thought there were only two options for cleaning a car: (1) You have to get out and plug in quarters based on how long you think the cleaning will take you and then do the scrubbing yourself (plus the saving up of quarters); or (2) Pay $30 for a full service wash and interior vacuum/cleaning. I tried the latter a year or so ago, and the interior wasn't at all cleaned properly. Seemed like a big waste.
A couple of weeks ago, a co-worker explained about a third option: Just go to a drive-through carwash for $8/$10/$12/$14, based on the level of service. (1) I didn't know where such a thing was located. (2) All levels seemed like a lot of money. But I did find such a carwash, and paid for the $10 level. The result: Under 5 minutes of high-powered rags swishing at the car was not worth $10! And all of the built-up dirt was not gone. But, hey, I tried. I didn't like the car looking scruffy; it does look better now.
Sunday, September 01, 2019
DON GIBSON: Sea Of Heartbreak (1961)
I first heard this great song in 1989 or so, watching Austin's Two Hoots and a Holler perform it at the Black Cat Lounge.
Charles Manson - Lie: The Love & Terror Cult (recorded '67, released '70)
This album only has 14 songs, but the CD that I have includes 12 more, all recorded 9/11/67:
[this album]
Look at Your Game, Girl
Ego
Mechanical Man
People Say I'm No Good
Home Is Where You're Happy
Arkansas
I'll Never Say Never to Always
Garbage Dump
Don't Do Anything Illegal
Sick City
Cease to Exist
Big Iron Door
I Once Knew a Man
Eyes of a Dreamer
-------------------------------------------
[others on my CD]
Devil Man
Devil Man
The More You Love
Two Pair of Shoes
Maiden with Green Eyes
Swamp Girl
Bet You Think I Care
Look at Your Game (alternate version)
Interview
Who to Blame
True Love You Will Find
My World
Invisible Tears
--------------------------------------------
This week, I've been re-reading "Helter Skelter" after reading new autobiographies by Family followers Lynette Fromme and Dianne Lake. One issue in the "does Manson deserve any attention" debate: Did the guy have any talent, or was he just a hippie hanger-on and suck-up to people like conservative "hippie" producer Terry Melcher (Byrds, Paul Revere and the Raiders)? One of the problems that I saw through the eyes of a mainstream producer/talent scout was the disparity between some of the songs like "Look at Your Game" and "My World," which were easy-listening pop, and "Arkansas" and "Sick City," which were much rougher songs from the dark soul of the folk/country/blues core, plus Manson's plain old punky throwaway stuff like "Garbage Dump" and "Don't Do Anything Illegal." How to integrate?
Of the above 24 songs, a lot was indulgent jamming and blather, but I could definitely see this interesting/important album coming out of it (my order):
Of the above 24 songs, a lot was indulgent jamming and blather, but I could definitely see this interesting/important album coming out of it (my order):
Side 1:
Ego
Cease to Exist
Swamp Girl (a Frankie Laine cover)
Arkansas
Sick City
Big Iron Door
Side 2:
Mechanical Man [fade-in excerpt]
Look at Your Game, Girl
True Love You Will Find
Invisible Tears (a Ned Miller cover)
My World
Home Is Where You're Happy
Don't Do Anything Illegal [fade-out excerpt]
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Don't Do Anything Illegal [fade-out excerpt]
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p.s. Meth and violence were definitely on the scene in 1969. But there were also multiple instances of Manson asking multiple people in the year or two prior (generally philosophically): "Would you kill for me?" and "Would you die for me?" Numerous Family members are on record as saying, "No, man, that's not my scene" with no consequences. Manson was a mental game-player, and I think he was interested in seeing what people would do upon his suggestions. For being on the scene of the Hinman and LaBianca murders (prior to anyone being killed), I think he should have done about 20 years. Because of his intellectual honesty and the horror that he represented (and failed to refute on principle), he was interred for life.
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