Yahoo Mail Panic!

Got a message from Yahoo a few days ago that by the end of August, I'd have to start paying a nominal fee of $1.99 per month if I was using more than 20GB of mail space. And I was currently up to 27.6 GB. 

I've had one mail account there since 2000 or so (my god---a quarter of a century!), always free. So I was mildly disgruntled. No, of course $1.99 a month was not a big deal; just the principle of the thing, plus I didn't want to give yet ANOTHER company access to my bank account to automatically withdraw funds from. Oh yeah, and I HATE their left-wing politics on their main page.

So I spent many hours today whittling away at the e-mails, some dating all the way back to 2000 (although I do remember doing one big mail purge in 2010, after I'd returned to Austin from NYC and was staying with my mom; I was bored out of my head, and it felt productive to at least clear out some of my junk mail at that time). First to go this time were the multitudes of assignment-getting and paycheck-begging mails from when I was doing freelance work from home around 2010 to 2012. Ugh. (The struggles with so many shitty little companies---and some big companies---and their incompetent accountants!) Then, I started doing mail searches for Redbubble and Pier 1 and World Market and Old Navy, etc. Companies that had had deals over the DECADES that I saved at the time, thinking I'd get back and order something. And then old "Pool closed" and "Holiday office hours" mails from my current apartment complex---and from Austin apartment complexes dating back to 2010. Then old daily mails from Astrology.com. And Austin City Limits and Austin American-Statesman announcements, plus "Paid" mails from Austin Utilities and various other companies prior to 2024. ETC! All of which got me down from 27.6 GB to...24.7!! Aaargh.

But then I finally figured out: It was the mails with ATTACHMENTS that were taking up the most space! And using the most space of all was ME taking iPhone photos of things I was selling online, and sending them to my own Yahoo mail account, so I could later edit them. I spent over 2 hours scrolling through messages from "me" and deleting all of those with photos of items I was planning to sell (and that I'd already transferred over to my personal computer Pictures folder). VOILA! So now I'm finally down to 10.9 GB, with a safe cushion for a few more years, I think.

Some melancholy feelings while going through all of the above: Finding mails from my brother, my mom, Sandra, other friends I haven't talked to in years. I'd already had a separate "SANDRA" folder for her mails (2008 to 2021---she had her stroke in 2018 and died in 2024), but I caught some strays that weren't in there yet, including some photos she'd attached that I hadn't yet archived. 

It was a GOOD, cathartic feeling to get rid of all the junk, like the old job/paycheck-begging mails from my lean years (I never have to deal with you assholes ever again!). But it was sad to read things from people whom I once liked or loved and now no longer have relationships with (I wish I could see you all again).

Portlandia: NPR Podcast (Season 8)

When I moved into my current apartment in 2017, I didn't have cable TV for a couple of days.

For background "white noise" sans commercials, I turned on NPR radio.
Prior to this, I'd only listened to NPR in brief minutes-long spurts in my car on occasion.
This time, though, I got the full monty: 

At one point, there was a 10-minute-long tale of white people having a family picnic on a holiday (city unknown). 

A black man came up and pulled a gun, trying to rob them.
The white family invited him to sit down with them at their picnic.
The robber said, "Sure!" And all was well! See! Don't get mad at black robbers!
(NPR didn't mention what position on the family softball team the robber ended up playing.)
This was seriously a story on NPR. Not something from "Portlandia."
DEFUND NPR.

Portlandia: Roseanne and the Old Skateboard Guy

A few years before Roseanne got cancelled by the mob.
(Here, she plays a temp worker from Phoenix called by her agency to take over as Mayor of Portland. Armisen and Brownstein are the former Mayor's assistants who are trying to acclimate her to Portland.)

Portlandia: Feminist Bookstore (w/Steve Buscemi)

I am apparently very, very slow. But, in my defense, I haven't had access to "Portlandia" until I just now got streaming via Roku! It was on IFC from 2011 thru 2018. So it's been off the air for the past 7 years! Yet I just now discovered it this past weekend, and watched it constantly...

My god, I wouldn't have felt so culturally lonely had I had access to this earlier! It points out the very worst idiocies of the fascist left-wing, but in a FUNNY way.

(Portland, BTW, is just Austin-lite. They even stole our "Make Austin Weird" slogan from the '80s!)

Eraserhead (1977): In heaven, everything is fine.

I've never seen Lynch admit it, but all of "Eraserhead" is about his not wanting to have a baby (and then having to deal with a baby) with this first wife, while he was a young art student. 

("Lady in the Radiator" scenes were added near the end of the shoot: Lynch has since said she represented HOPE. And she DOES! She has a very sweet way about her!)

When I first watched this 1977 movie with my friends in the '80s (because, as college kids, we were supposed to): My only take-away back then is that one of my friends later was able to re-create "In heaven, everything is fine..." on demand. Very hilarious back then!

David Lynch: The Art Life - Official Trailer

Although he just died in January 2025, I hadn't thought about Lynch in years, but I remember seeing "Blue Velvet" for the first time in Austin, and being horrified, stunned. It remains one of the most disturbing movies I've ever seen (especially at such a young age, in my early 20s)---the utter horror, yet banality/realism, of the landscape. (Later, in 1990-91, my group of friends would jovially gather to watch the weekly "Twin Peaks" episode---Fun-Time! Though "Twin Peaks" was nearly equally disturbing.)

 

"The Art Life" is Lynch in his later years, creating artworks on camera while telling stories of his early years.

While watching "The Art Life" on Criterion, I kept thinking of Sandra, and what she---as a painter---would think of it. Does any of this reflect her own thought processes while painting, her own innate need for absolute freedom? I thought she understood that I understood---but I don't think that I really did. And I think that she knew that. Good for her---she stayed true to her town, to her self. At one point in our many years of communicating, she told me to back off: "I'm a free spirit." I angrily (but honestly/childishly) responded: "Well, I'm a controlling spirit, so we'll never get along."

 

Yet we kept on from 2008 thru her stroke in 2018. Post-stroke, I received a few brief e-mails from her up until early 2021. After that, nothing. I always thought something would change. Pre-stroke, that she'd get the basics of her life together (with help from me); then, post-stroke, that she'd heal physically. In either case that at some point we'd be middle-aged/old ladies visiting each other and sharing our poems.

 

In her last years (after her rent-paying elderly Sugar Daddy was put away by his kids and his rent payments cut off), she remained basically homeless---couch-surfing at friends' houses---until she was institutionalized after her stroke in 2018. She died in 2024, never being outside of a state hospital after 2018. She apparently had a phone to communicate with up until 2021; after that, I never heard from her again, and I could never communicate with her after that year---all former e-mail addresses and phone numbers had been disconnected.

What was her life like in her last 3 years?? My god.

I think Sandra went out of this world horribly, but at the same time, while watching David Lynch's "The Art Life," I also think that, up until her stroke, Sandra was, indeed, a free spirit who, despite mental difficulties, lived her life per what she felt was right for her, not what was "easiest" for her. (The aforementioned "Sugar Daddy" had asked her to marry him, for instance. Had she agreed, she would have had a far-more luxurious life at the end.)

Like Lynch, she was very much true to herself. Me, or any Sugar Daddy, be damned. 

What Makes a Man

In the early '90s, after my first girlfriend had broken up with me and I was bereft, I put a Personals ad in the local weekly paper (no Internet then, y'all). I met a tall, lanky girl named "Jenn" and we dated (slept together) for a couple of months. There was not really a spark between us, either physically or mentally. There was no "there" there. But she was pleasant, and I liked her in general. I spent a couple of nights at her one-room boarding-house arrangement near campus, with one bathroom down the hall. She spent the night maybe twice with me. We went out to gay clubs a few couple of times, saw one band together (I can't remember now: Was it Siouxsie and the Banshees?). 

Sex between us was really passive for the most part. I remember distinctly asking, in my ad, for a "top." I'm mentally aggressive and intellectual, but not sexually so. (So I guess I'd be the "femme" in a lesbian relationship. I do hate the term "bossy bottom"!) :)

We drifted apart after only a couple of months, but upon doing online searches, while bored, recently: She's suddenly morphed into "Jett"---a transgender filmmaker in Los Angeles! And she has a mustache! 

Yes, all of her "films" are about being trans. (Which means: Said "films" are getting government funding based on current political trends, not because of the merit. Nor because they speak to all of us, as humans.) 

I'd learned a couple of years ago that "Jenn" was now "Jett." But I was also around a lot of gay clubs and gay people for many years before I aged out of it. What I learned during those 10-or-so years: Men are men. Gay men are more aggressive. Trans men (despite their wigs and makeup) are more aggressive. I remember dancing with trans men at various clubs at various times in the '90s/early 2000s and, despite their accoutrements, there was just a MALE energy about them. Just purely a biological thing. They could change their outer appearance, but not the energy that vibrated from them. (And most of the trans males LIKED that about themselves: The fact that they were feminine-appearing, but still male.)

Conversely with "Jenn/Jett": I'd rarely been around a more passive person. Most women I'd known, and know, had/have more of a spark to them. Even the most passive of men that I've met in my life have not been THIS listless. (Seriously: Even the most sluggish of men are highly inspired by at least video games or sports or SOMETHING.) Whatever inspired her to transition to male? To me, just thinking of this one person, it's ludicrous: You can SAY you're male, and you can remove your breasts and grow a mustache, etc., but your innate ENERGY isn't EVER going to be any different. No one is EVER going to be pheromonally attracted to you as male. You're going to get some PC/intellectually-based relationships (and these will be touted by today's media), but... you could have had such without ever claiming to be a male. Which you're not. WHY the lie? And why force the rest of society to go along with your mentally ill pretense? (And why do you get government grants based only on your mentally ill pretense?)

Were Jenn/Jett "only" a lesbian, as she once was, would she ever have gotten government grants to make any films whatsoever? Highly doubtful. She had nothing to say. Being trans, though, now THAT is something!

RIP OZZY: Mama, I'm Coming Home (1991)

Times have changed and times are strange
Here I come, but I ain't the same
Mama, I'm coming home

Time's gone by, it seems to be
You could have been a better friend to me
Mama, I'm coming home

You took me in and you drove me out
Yeah, you had me hypnotized, yeah
Lost and found and turned around
By the fire in your eyes

You made me cry, you told me lies
But I can't stand to say goodbye
Mama, I'm coming home

I could be right, I could be wrong
It hurts so bad, it's been so long
Mama, I'm coming home

Selfish love, yeah, we're both alone
The ride before the fall, yeah
But I'm gonna take this heart of stone
I've just got to have it all

I've seen your face a hundred times
Every day we've been apart
I don't care about the sunshine, yeah
'Cause, mama, mama, I'm coming home
I'm coming home

You took me in and you drove me out
Yeah, you had me hypnotised, yeah
Lost and found and turned around
By the fire in your eyes

I've seen your face a thousand times
Every day we've been apart
And I don't care about the sunshine, yeah
'Cause, mama, mama, I'm coming home...

RIP OZZY: Crazy Train (1980, with Randy Rhoads)

I rode around in my mild Austin neighborhood blasting this song today, windows down.
RESPECT.
In 2009, when Michael Jackson died, I remember walking around my neighborhood
 in New Jersey and at least two cars driving by, blasting Michael Jackson.
That's the greatest tribute: When us "simple folk" blast your songs after you're gone.
---------------------------------------------

Crazy, but that's how it goes
Millions of people living as foes
Maybe it's not too late
To learn how to love and forget how to hate

Mental wounds not healing
Life's a bitter shame

I'm going off the rails on a crazy train
I'm going off the rails on a crazy train
(Let's go)

I've listened to preachers, I've listened to fools
I've watched all the dropouts, who make their own rules
One person conditioned to rule and control
The media sells it and you live the role

Mental wounds still screaming
Driving me insane

I'm going off the rails on a crazy train
I'm going off the rails on a crazy train

I know that things are going wrong for me
You gotta listen to my words, yeah, yeah

Heirs of a cold war, that's what we've become
Inheriting troubles, I'm mentally numb
Crazy, I just cannot bear
I'm living with something that just isn't fair

Mental wounds not healing
Who and what's to blame?

I'm going off the rails on a crazy train
I'm going off the rails on a crazy train

RIP OZZY: Black Sabbath - Iron Man (1970)

I am Iron Man

Has he lost his mind?
Can he see or is he blind?
Can he walk at all
Or if he moves will he fall?

Is he alive or dead?
Has he thoughts within his head?
We'll just pass him there
Why should we even care?

He was turned to steel
In the great magnetic field
When he traveled time
For the future of mankind

Nobody wants him
He just stares at the world
Planning his vengeance
That he will soon unfurl

Now the time is here
For Iron Man to spread fear
Vengeance from the grave
Kills the people he once saved

Nobody wants him
They just turn their heads
Nobody helps him
Now he has his revenge

Heavy boots of lead
Fill his victims full of dread
Running as fast as they can
Iron Man lives again!

RIP OZZY: Black Sabbath - "Paranoid" (1970)

Finished with my woman 'cause she couldn't help me with my mind
People think I'm insane because I am frowning all the time
All day long I think of things but nothing seems to satisfy
Think I'll lose my mind if I don't find something to pacify

Can you help me occupy my brain?
Oh yeah

I need someone to show me the things in life that I can't find
I can't see the things that make true happiness, I must be blind

Make a joke and I will sigh and you will laugh and I will cry
Happiness I cannot feel and love to me is so unreal

And so as you hear these words telling you now of my state
I tell you to enjoy life I wish I could but it's too late

Criterion Channel Watching This Weekend

"Portrait of Jason" https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jason_Holliday 
(Shirley Clarke film, plus her Robert Frost and "Skyscraper" films)
Various Ingmar Bergman interviews, and film shorts (his child, his mother's face)

Ingmar Bergman Interview (1998)

Bergman speaking in 1998 on Social Democrats in Sweden:
"The political nomenclature came from the academic world, and lost that contact with Sweden the founding politicians used to have.... I was a Social Democrat until I discovered that they were trying to take my life away."

That is EXACTLY what has been going on in the United States (and in Europe) for the past 10 years or more! All media catch-phrases and dictates coming purely from the insane Academia and Psychology platitudes. And nothing at all from the real world and its normal inhabitants.

In a later interview I watched, Bergman went on to say that there is an evolutionary history of a people that cannot be destroyed, even by Communists. TRUE.

My own comment (not Bergman's): The forced open borders by the EU, the forced open borders under Joe Biden in the US: WHY? WHAT were you trying to accomplish?

The Courage of Shutting Up (Sylvia Plath)

A recent e-mail exchange with my mother reminded me:  
STOP WRITING HER! You will NEVER get anywhere. No matter what you say, she will always misinterpret it, and will never apologize. You will only make yourself feel bad and will only bring yourself down. STOP trying to communicate with her. (I actually wrote a big POST-IT note to self and stuck it above my desk: "Do NOT e-mail Mom any more!")

Example from one of her e-mails: "If indeed that actually happened." (I'd just given a very sincerely honest account of something----"if indeed that actually happened.")

I must now ignore her and not respond to her bullshit: The Courage of Shutting Up.

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sylvia Plath: The Courage of Shutting Up

The courage of the shut mouth, in spite of artillery!
The line pink and quiet, a worm, basking.
There are black disks behind it, the disks of outrage,
And the outrage of a sky, the lined brain of it.
The disks revolve, they ask to be heard—

Loaded, as they are, with accounts of bastardies.
Bastardies, usages, desertions and doubleness,
The needle journeying in its groove,
Silver beast between two dark canyons,
A great surgeon, now a tattooist,

Tattooing over and over the same blue grievances,
The snakes, the babies, the tits
On mermaids and two-legged dreamgirls.
The surgeon is quiet, he does not speak.
He has seen too much death, his hands are full of it.

So the disks of the brain revolve, like the muzzles of cannon.
Then there is that antique billhook, the tongue,
Indefatigable, purple. Must it be cut out?
It has nine tails, it is dangerous.
And the noise it flays from the air, once it gets going!

No, the tongue, too, has been put by,
Hung up in the library with the engravings of Rangoon
And the fox heads, the otter heads, the heads of dead rabbits.
It is a marvelous object—
The things it has pierced in its time.

But how about the eyes, the eyes, the eyes?
Mirrors can kill and talk, they are terrible rooms
In which a torture goes on one can only watch.
The face that lived in this mirror is the face of a dead man.
Do not worry about the eyes—

They may be white and shy, they are no stool pigeons,
Their death rays folded like flags
Of a country no longer heard of,
An obstinate independency
Insolvent among the mountains.

Not Cared For

One time in junior-high school, my father was supposed to pick me up. He didn't. 

I stood there for a while among all the busses and cars coming and going. They all came and went, and I was still standing there in an empty parking lot after-hours.

I guess he finally showed up and picked me up. (I don't remember how I got home.)

Years earlier, there was another "incident" re Camp-Fire Girls:
When I was 6 years old, my mother dressed me in a "Blue Birds" outfit and sent me off to school. Only, this day wasn't a "Blue Birds" day. I felt stupid in my outfit. And at the end of the day: There was no "Blue Birds" meeting after school. I was 6 years old, and I knew my way home, so I started trudging along the highway.... Some random kindly woman was driving along and saw a small girl walking along the highway. She picked me up and drove me home.

I was a 6-year-old child walking along a highway.  (Really? A 6-year-old walking along a highway?)

FOR SHAME, both of you idiotic parents. (One can bemoan: "Oh, my parents didn't love me" etc. But there's a BIG difference between parents who might not give you attention and those who claim to be middle class and yet somehow "forget" such a basic thing as picking you up from school.)

Also during this time in Georgia: My father gave my mother a black eye. I was 8. I witnessed it. They were enacting their disgusting inter-personal shit. I was not cared for.

Watching the Movers

I was 8 years old in 1973, and we were moving from Georgia back to Texas. When the movers came over, my parents disappeared to god-knows-where. Their instructions to me: "Watch the movers." There were no grown-ups on site, just 8-year-old me: "Watching the movers."

How ridiculous. What was I, as an 8-year-old, supposed to say to any of the adult male movers, even if I'd spotted some sort of mishap?

Earlier that year: We lived on a Georgia Air Force base that had a swimming pool and a movie theater. My parents never drove me to either (why?), but I walked to them. One time when I got to the pool after my mile-long trudge, I was asked for an ID, but didn't have one. I was kindly let in. (I'm sure I looked sweaty and pitiful; and I guess the pool powers-that-be didn't think that an 8-year-old was a threat to national security.)

Why weren't either my father or mother there to watch the movers? Why couldn't either of them drive their kid to the pool?

Tony Orlando & Dawn: Tie a Yellow Ribbon (1973)

This song was huge and played constantly on the radio when I was growing up.
I, as a kid, didn't understand the context.
This song is about a Vietnam vet coming home, or a prisoner coming home, 
or a Civil War vet coming home (per songwriter Brown)--does his woman still want him?

My First Night (and more!) with Criterion

The Times of Harvey Milk
Bergman Island (plus multiple Bergman extras)

Man, it was GREAT to end the night with Ingmar Bergman discussing life and death rather than watching the shallow Marxist BBC, for instance! (Sane, contemplative thoughts versus propaganda.)

Earlier on Criterion, I'd tried the punk "Decline of Western Civilization" (which I'd already seen years ago) but had to turn it off after only a few minutes---too loud, too stupid. (I don't mind "loud," but I hate "stupid.")

But I must say RE Bergman's Faro Island: He seemed a bit disturbed re being in his house alone. I'd be scared to be in his house alone, too. I would love to see the raw moon and sea, and to experience the visitations---but not by myself.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Criterion report as of Sunday, July 13:
I watched Bergman's "Faro Island 1979": So sociologically interesting, except I did not need to see the pig slaughtered near the end----you don't just hammer the pig once on the head and then start working on him while he's still twitching with life. Find a better way to kill him first, you disgusting, sadistic assholes. Other than that, the glimpses of life on the island were fascinating: The kids in the school-bus (with their plans either to stay or go from the island and how they turned out), the elderly woman who had once planned to be a teacher and leave the island but who failed the vision test because she couldn't afford glasses, the farmer working and then fixing/eating dinner alone, the couple whose home had burned down (the ferry to the island wouldn't wait for the fire trucks).
I also watched "Liv and Ingmar" and various other Bergman briefs. And browsed through and added so many more things to my Library section: Chaplin, Varda, Polanski, rock films, etc. I am VERY excited about being able to watch Criterion selections every day for under $10 a month!!

A good day devolved into a bad day at end

This Friday, I got a LOT done: Returned my Spectrum equipment, got my car inspected, got Etsy sales off to the post office on time. 

I was feeling cocky about "what a great day" until I stopped off for beer and cigarettes... There's a corner store that sells cigs cheaper than other stores. But you have to buy them in duos: Two packs get the discount. So, for months, I've been buying 6 packs at a time---so I'd get the "duo" discount X 3. 

The guy at the store today could not speak English. He'd been working there for maybe 2 weeks or so. The past couple of times I'd bought my cigs there, no problem. But this time, he only rang up 5 packs of cigs instead of the 6 that I'd asked for. Except that the first 4 qualified for the "2-fer" deal, and the 5th was charged at full price. It was a minor kerfuffle. I was trying to explain to him how the "2-fer" deal worked---and why I asked for 6 instead of 5... In the meantime, a couple of customers built up behind me. 

We both gave up. He gave me an extra pack of cigarettes. Which I feel crummy about. I didn't want a FREE pack, just the regular discount! 

I'm mad at myself for arguing. I'm mad at the clerk for not knowing either English or his own business equipment enough---I'd asked him if he could not just cancel the previous sale and start over: He didn't understand, and didn't know how to do it. But couldn't I have just accepted the higher price for the one pack of cigarettes this one time?

--------------------------------------------------

The above happened on Friday, July 11. On Sunday, July 13, I still felt so crappy that I went back to the store to return the extra pack of cigarettes that the Friday clerk had given me, and to apologize for being rude. There was a different guy there, also a non-English-speaker. The name on the receipt that I got on Friday said "Sam" so I asked this current guy when "Sam" would be working. I tried to explain that there had been a problem on Friday, and that I wanted to give back one pack of cigarettes. 
"Huh? What? What do you want?"
"When will Sam be working?"
"What?!"
SIGH. I started to get mad again, and then just said, "I'll come back later in the week."
I'm going to go back one more time (during weekday business hours) to try to give my pack of cigs back to "Sam," and then after that, I'm going to stop feeling guilty.
These guys at this gas store are all Indonesian. And the majority of them don't speak English. Which is fine, as long as there is not any sort of glitch that requires actual communication. Gas/beer/6 packs of cigs for the discount price----all good. BUT: When there's a problem, these same clerks need to be able to understand what the problem might be, and they need to also understand the technical business basics of voiding a sale and then starting over. 
Imagine if some poor whites from the US moved to Jakarta and started a business, yet could not communicate in any Indonesian language... AND did not know how to void a sale on the cash register. That's the exact situation that I just experienced. So, yeah, no more guilt about "being mean." As I said, I'll try to return the one pack of cigs during the week. And then stop feeling guilty.

Paul McCartney: Wanderlust (1982)

Crystal-clear, angelic voice. At age 40.
(For rock purists: "Tug of War" is probably THE Paul McCartney solo album to have. 
And then "Ram" and "Band on the Run." I personally also really like 1997's "Flaming Pie.")

Oh where did I go wrong my love?
What petty crime was I found guilty of?
What better time to find a brand new day?
Oh - wanderlust away

Paul McCartney: From Me To You (Live at Royal Arena, Copenhagen, 2018)

A 76-year-old Paul McCartney.

The Beatles: From Me to You (Washington Coliseum, 1964)

The Beatles: Revolution (1968)

You say you want a revolution
Well, you know
We all want to change the world
You tell me that it's evolution
Well, you know
We all want to change the world

But when you talk about destruction
Don't you know that you can count me out/in

Don't you know it's gonna be alright
Alright, alright

You say you got a real solution
Well, you know
We'd all love to see the plan
You ask me for a contribution
Well, you know
We're all doing what we can

But if you want money for people with minds that hate
All I can tell you is brother you have to wait

Don't you know it's gonna be alright
Alright, alright...

You say you'll change the Constitution
Well, you know
We all want to change your head
You tell me it's the institution
Well, you know
You'd better free your mind instead

But if you go carrying pictures of Chairman Mao
You ain't gonna make it with anyone anyhow

Don't you know it's gonna be alright
Alright, alright

The Beatles (John): Norwegian Wood (1965)

Innocence. 1965.

Frank Sinatra & Nancy Sinatra: Something Stupid (1967)

As a small child, I also frequently heard this song on the radio in my parents' home.
I, personally, was forbidden from saying the word "stupid." 
When I wanted to get around that proscription, I'd burst into this song---
emphasizing, of course, the word "stupid."

Cher: Gypsies Tramps And Thieves (1971)

This was when you just LIKED Cher because she was exotic, cool, AND very talented.

Not that you were SUPPOSED TO like her.

Tom Jones: Daughter Of Darkness (1970)

I'd completely forgotten about this song, which I remember 

hearing on the radio when I was 5 years old!
I just yesterday ordered a Tom Jones Greatest Hits CD ('60s up thru his '90s duets) 

and saw that "Daughter of Darkness" was on the song-list.

I had to have it (like having to have 1971's "Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves" from Cher---

perhaps her greatest song).

Tom Jones is a REALLY good, soulful, exciting singer!
(If you want low-key and mellow---then not your man.)

.

No more Fiber-guy stress!

In anticipation of the Internet Fiber-guy switching me over: I shoved the tall iron shelves at least 16 inches to the right of the Fiber box (installed by my apartment complex last year). And I vacuumed the carpet of all cat hair (lest the Fiber-guy judge me). My Sunday chores. My attempts at making the place more palatable to a random visitor also made ME feel much lighter and happier afterward!

I finally cut the cord!

(Ha! Given my ongoing stupid/niggling familial difficulties, this time I mean: MY CABLE CORD!)

And I feel so much lighter!
 
I had been with Spectrum (Charter) for the past 15 years, with a cable box, etc. I had my TCM, I had everything else I needed. I was just fine. (And Spectrum was my Internet provider, as well.)

But then when Netflix stopped mailing DVDs in Sept. 2023, there was a chink in the armor... I had been relying on Netflix for being able to discover foreign/artier classic films that I hadn't seen before. I really looked forward to the discs' arrival every week. (The commercial-free TCM is great for your basic classic movies, and their Sunday late-nights do focus on Silents and Foreign films. But, of course, unlike Netflix-by-mail, I didn't get to create a queue and PICK what I wanted to see.)

Sans Netflix, the only other really good option I found online was the Criterion Channel. But, alas, it was STREAMING ONLY! (Boo! I don't know how to stream!) So I muddled along in my mild disgruntlement.

Then last summer, my apartment complex made a deal with a major company to install fiber Internet boxes in everyone's apartment. I'd already re-signed my lease a couple of months before then, but I was informed that starting with the next lease, a charge of $55 per month for this new service would be automatically tacked on to my rent bill. ($55 per month is actually a great deal, for faster Internet service than Spectrum had been giving me.) I didn't like the fact that I was being forced into changing my Internet, but I really didn't have a choice in the matter. I certainly wasn't going to pay for TWO Internet charges. So I got used to THAT idea ahead of time.

Then also last summer: Spectrum jacked up the price of Internet/Cable to over $200, AND they made me return my cable box and switch to Xumo streaming! TCM and local stations were my only must-haves, but according to them, their cable box could no longer offer TCM, so I had to get the Xumo box plus an all-new router and modem. Which was very stressful for me, since I had no idea how streaming worked! But it all got set up OK by the professionals, and I was OK with it. I knew that in a year, I'd have to start the new company's Internet, so I'd planned on that, and planned on just keeping Spectrum for the TV service... 

But within a few months, whatever "special deal" I'd initially had for this new Spectrum set-up got jacked up AGAIN to $229! I called them, and asked if they could do anything to get the price back down under $200---because paying over that was making me feel ripped-off! Whoever I got on the phone was a bee-atch: Salespeople are supposed to listen to my needs rather than TELL me how lucky I should feel because I was getting all those Disney and UniVision and BET and MTV channels! I'd heard from a lot of people that if you called a provider and threatened to leave them, they'd give you a better deal... NOPE! And I also saw that Spectrum was now charging me $28 extra per month for local/"broadcast" stations, which used to be included with the regular package. (RE my desire for local/broadcast stations: Weather news, Cowboys football games and Longhorns news in the fall. I don't think there's a single regular show I ever watch on ABC/CBS/NBC, but I still want to be able to turn on local news, and also to check out mainstream news/late night shows every now and then (which have sucked for the past 10 years, but still...).

After the latest Spectrum price of $229 and refusal to lower it... I got used to using the Xumo box, and then learned that it was a streaming device, just like a ROKU stick was. Which I could buy, and did buy, from Amazon for under $50. (While Spectrum was charging me $5 a month "rent" for the Xumo box.) Once I figured out that Xumo and ROKU worked in the same way, I started to feel more confident in exploring my options! But I dithered right up until this month, when my apartment complex finally started automatically charging me for the new Internet service. (Seriously, I can often dither a lot, but being outright charged twice for Internet was too black-and-white irrational for me to bear!)

So this week, the new Fiber guys arrived and got my new Internet service set up without a hitch. (I was especially nervous because I work from home---no, there was no interruption in either work or home Internet.) And they explained to me exactly why I no longer needed ANY of the Spectrum equipment that I currently had, since I had my brand new still-boxed ROKU stick ready for them! And they set THAT up for me, too! (I'd paid for Spectrum thru the 20th of this month, so I could still use that app via the ROKU stick before I settled on my new TV service.)

In short: FU, Spectrum! Today, I chose a new streaming TV service that offered most of what I like to watch (but especially my must-haves of TCM and local stations; the only basic-cable minor favorites of mine missing are A&E, History, Reelz, Story, C-SPAN---but I can live without them). And once I got THAT-all in place, I then decided to splurge and subscribe to Criterion for about $8 a month (yearly deal). Which I now know exactly how to view!

For about the same TV service, faster Internet, plus Criterion, I'm now paying $148 per month. As opposed to the $229 from Spectrum (sans any premiere movie station). 

Addendum: When I called Spectrum today to say I was DONE and just needed to know where to return all of my equipment, I got a very pleasantly pushy, sales-person. "What? You can't leave us after so many years! What can we do for you to make you stay? What are they charging you now? We can match that!" I told her (proudly/a bit gleefully): "Sorry, but I've already packed up all the Spectrum equipment." She was a trouper: "We gonna make you UNpack that!" And she wondered if the Spectrum person I'd talked to months ago (to try to get my bill down) was from Billing and not Sales---because "the Billing people don't care." I wish I'd talked to this woman months ago! All of this switching-over has been stressful for me, since I didn't have a clue as to what I was doing in this new "streaming" world, or how it would turn out. But it turned out just fine.

(Similarly, I was pretty scared when I flew to San Francisco in May 2025----I hadn't flown since 2010, I'd NEVER taken an Uber, I hadn't seen San Fran since 2006, etc. Everything turned out just fine. I remain comforted by the fact that, for mechanical things, there are systems/instrux in place for just about everything that you don't know how to do.)

Tom Jones "It's Not Unusual" (April 21, 1968, the Ed Sullivan Show)

This is what I usually think of when I think of Tom Jones. 
I think this kind of schtick is horrible! 
But his 1969 performances do impress me, 

as do his performances in later years.

Tom Jones and Little Richard (Tom Jones TV Show, 1969)

#1: Little Richard was pretty much temporarily forgotten by 1969, so kudos to Jones 

for featuring Richard on his TV show.
#2: Jones matches Richard's vocals! 

Tom Jones & Janis Joplin (Tom Jones TV Show, 1969)

Wow! He can handle Bernhard AND Janis!
I had no clue who Tom Jones was! (I mean, I knew who he was/is, but I thought he was a simplistic crooner!)
This guy is MIGHTY!

Tom Jones • Kiss (Live, Arsenio Hall 1990)

A middle-aged straight white man being as sexual (and moving nearly as well) 

as the young Prince... It CAN be done! :)

Awkward Conversation w' My Hairdresser

I went to my salon on July 6, and for part of the small talk, I asked my 20-something, unwed-Mom-of-one, living-at-home-with-parents-and younger-siblings, Hispanic hairdresser if she and her family had done anything on the 4th o' July. Expecting something like, "We had a big cookout."

Her curt answer (and she's usually friendly): "We don't celebrate the 4th of July." 

Now, last time I was at the salon, she'd mentioned that her father was afraid to travel outside of Texas (or to actually do more than go to the grocery store and other local errands) because he was illegally in the US and afraid he'd be arrested by ICE agents. I told her straight out that I was a big Trump supporter, but that I was sorry for her father's situation and also didn't think ICE should be harassing long-time residents and family-men who weren't criminals (unlike the millions of low-lifes that Biden let in---I didn't add this parenthetical part). She didn't seem offended by my Trump fan-dom, and also said that her mother was born in the US and is a US citizen. I didn't want to pry any more, but couldn't help but think: If the father is illegal, but he's married to a US citizen (and has been for decades), then...why in the world wouldn't he have applied for citizenship by now?

With that info in mind from last time, I was thinking her "We don't celebrate the 4th of July" was indicative of tension over current ICE arrests or something? So I pressed on a bit: "When I was a kid, all of us kids in the neighborhood would go out and shoot off Black Cats; we always looked forward to the 4th because we got to shoot fireworks! Did y'all ever do that when you were growing up?" (I was trying to emphasize the non-nationalistic fun of just being kids.)

"No."

OK then. After that, I shut up about it. But it still kind of bugged me. She's not a radical (or, rather, she doesn't present as one---most radicals do so quite overtly!). Why would a family who's been in the US for decades (Mom and all kids US citizens, though the Father not) never celebrate the 4th of July? I can see, given the Father's illegal status, that maybe they were protesting the current Trump and ICE situation, but NEVER? Again, I didn't say anything to her, but: Why the heck not? Are you mad because Texans and Americans won former Mexican territory? Do you celebrate Cinco de Mayo (a victory over the French, not the US, BTW)? What exactly is the problem? 

I'm honestly irritated when enclaves of foreigners make no attempt to assimilate into the fabric of their current country. Again, I have no idea what her and her family's reasons are for not celebrating the 4th. But I know that she's a Catholic, not a Quaker (so it's not some "non-militaristic" thing). And if you dislike the birthday celebration of the country you're currently in, then aren't you being a bit hypocritical by living there? (Same question for Ilhan Omar and her ilk: You were once a refugee, yet you've been elected to the United States Congress! And yet, while you've just reached the pinnacle of US success, you still claim that the US is elitist and racist?! You are truly mad.)

My hairdresser is a nice person, and so I won't be bringing up any more political topics. (But "the 4th of July" should really not be that political to the average person in the United States.)

Sandra Bernhard: Songbird (Fleetwood Mac Cover) 2010

[Just one minor thing in the story-telling: 
Christine broke up with husband John McVie, not with Mick Fleetwood.]

And, sadly, after a search on the Internet, I found an old Twitter post from Bernhard 

demanding that all of her friends and acquaintances announce if they were pro-Trump---

so she could ban all of them from her life....

I remain a fan of hers---she was funny and iconoclastic as hell in her heyday.
But if she thinks Biden was a good President and Trump is not: 
she is a sheep, a follower, and a non-thinker---nothing at all like her bold stage persona.
(Any truly intelligent person would stop to listen to other intelligent peers. 

Not simply dismiss them based on received, not lived, academic opinions----

especially if you've never been to college, as most show-people have not.)

Those of us who HAVE been to college know that most professors are full of BS. 
You, Bernard, should know better than to listen to their rhetoric.

Sandra Bernhard on Letterman (1983-85)

(This is 1.5 hrs overall, so maybe just view a few bits at a time...)
Bernhard and Dave are hilarious and absurdist---"I Will Always Love You!"
Watching this reminds me that late-night TV was once actually witty. 
And not just because, 
"Oh, that's when I was in my 20s, so that's why I think it's better."
You don't see any actually edgy stuff on late-night TV any more. 

Sandra Bernhard & Tom Jones: You're Unbelievable (1992)

The original song by UK band EMF reached #1 in the US in 1991.
The Bernhard/Tom Jones version as a duet is so much better! Both so strong and funny!
(And I must confess: When the original song first came out, I never could hear 
the lyrics properly: I thought it was some guy boringly telling his girl how great she was!
I couldn't tell then that it was a big put-down---as this Bernard/Jones video, 
and a reading of lyrics websites, clearly shows!)

p.s. I thought I spotted famed drag artist Lypsinka in the audience!



The things, you say
Your purple prose just gives you away---

Sandra Bernhard: Come Rain or Come Shine (The King of Comedy, 1982)

With the kidnapped Jerry Lewis.

Sandra Bernhard: Four Women (1990)

Bernhard's take on Nina Simone.
Bernhard is all-PC nowadays, but back in 1990, she was making fun of black holiness.
(The premise of her whole "Without You I'm Nothing" film is that her manager has sent her on a tour of black clubs to teach her a lesson about being humble----everyone reacts NOT AT ALL to her during her various schticks!)

Sandra Bernhard: Me And Mrs. Jones (1990)

I'd never seen Bernhard's "Without You I'm Nothing" until last night on TCM.
I was feeling low, but the creativity of the whole film made me very happy!
Dedicated to Remy Martin!

Never trust a politician who has never held a real job to handle any of your business.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zohran_Mamdani

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barack_Obama

"Community Organizer" and "Rapper" don't count as "jobs."