Andy Griffith: Whoa Mule

Andy Sings: There Is A Time

Ann Rule: The Stranger Beside Me

I'm interested in the psychology of some serial killers, but never that much in Ted Bundy, who basically just bashed a bunch of girls in the head and raped/murdered them in the mid-1970s. But I just bought a used 2000 edition of the original 1980 book by Ann Rule, who once worked with Bundy for a few months in a Rape Crisis Center.

When Bundy was executed in January 1989, I was 23 and working at a Fort Worth-area Half-Price Books, and had found Rule's book for the first time and took home a copy to read. Having just moved from Austin to Fort Worth to be with "friends," I was utterly miserable in my personal life, and just recently out of college; and this book, along with the current news of Bundy's execution, gave me an overall creepy feeling about life in general. (Bundy was being safely executed, but I felt extremely alone and at the mercy of whatever forces.)

But re-reading the 2000 20th-anniversary edition TODAY in 2025: Ann Rule's book is brilliant! 35 years later, I'm definitely not so young and jittery when it comes to learning about weird, horrible things. And this book, while it does give plenty of details about the gore, also gives biographical info about the victims and what they were doing on the particular day they were killed. AND, which is the whole point of the book: The author worked beside Bundy in a Rape Crisis Center for months, and then communicated with him for years via both letters and phone-calls: First as a friend, then after he was initially accused of only one kidnapping (and was protesting his innocence and it looked like he was innocent), and finally after he was convicted of the violent murders of numerous young women.

What is so striking is the dichotomy between the sane Ted Bundy on paper proclaiming his innocence to his friend Rule (and his doing the same in court), and the actual facts of every one of his murders. And then the actual facts of his life prior to the murder spree in 1974-1975, as well as the final 1978 Florida murders after he'd escaped from prison. Prior to 1974, he'd actually led a mainstream life, attending various colleges (getting his undergrad degree from the University of Washington, then attempting/failing to finish law school). And being in multiple long-term relationships with women during the same time that he was murdering other women.

Bundy/Gacy/Dahmer: They really WERE "split personalities." Bundy and Gacy were both capable of functioning in higher levels of society: Bundy was active in local Republican campaigns in Washington State, and Gacy was active in Democrat politics in Chicago, a Jimmy Carter supporter, and was even photographed with Rosalynn Carter in 1975. (Dahmer had no such public presence: Despite his academic father, he worked in a chocolate factory and lived in a bad neighborhood. Yet he also was able to function in this lower-class world, while also seeking murder victims in his free time.)

People tend to mock the concept of "split personalities." But I think Bundy, Gacy, and Dahmer are perfect examples of this: They were utterly capable of functioning in society on a daily basis. Yet, after hours...

Kill them although they also exhibit some humanity? I say yes. If there is such a great flaw, then they shouldn't be among the rest of humanity any longer.

Interestingly: I recently looked up Dahmer on findagrave.com, and came across info about his relatives. His mother's grandfather was in a mental hospital (the site didn't say what for). And info after the Ann Rule book: Ted Bundy's grandfather has been revealed as a drunken maniac around his house, and it's suggested that he raped his own daughter, Bundy's mother---and thus was Bundy's father. (But Bundy always said he was so nice...)

Why Alone on Thanksgiving?

When I was younger, I used to wonder why on earth anyone would not ever be with their family on Thanksgiving! 

The first time I came upon this phenomenon was when I was in my 20s and worked at my very first full-time job as supervisor of a library floor. A brother and sister worked with me: The sister a supervisor on another floor, and her brother a book-shelver on my floor. Me, being young and scattered, was excited about the upcoming days off, and full of attempted conversations with my co-workers: "Are you excited about going home for Thanksgiving?!" Well, no, some people were not. 

In the mid-'90s, I worked at an office with some leftists: They mocked the holiday and said they'd rather go out and eat hamburgers on that day. (Me: I can eat a hamburger any day; I'd prefer something special on Thanksgiving.)

(Just as last year, when I was getting my hair cut right before Thanksgiving, I tried to make conversation with my stylist, a young Hispanic woman; when I asked her about her family plans for Thanksgiving, she replied: "We don't celebrate Thanksgiving." Yikes. Sorry for asking. Based on other conversations with her, her father is illegal, though her mother was born here; the father just never got citizenship. Aside from that, though---you're in America and don't celebrate Thanksgiving?! What are you protesting? I dunno---what's an equivalent----Say I moved to whatever country and they had whatever holiday. I'm almost certain that I'd try to be a part of my new country's culture instead of being a left-wing asshole about it.)

I'd earlier been alone on Thanksgiving because of geography: In 1994, I was in San Francisco in grad school. In 2007-2009, I was away in New York City. 

Today, I was alone because of family dysfunction. But I actually didn't feel bad. Earlier in the week, I'd bought a cooked chicken, and some garlic mashed potatoes, and a 4-pack of crescent rolls, and some LeSueur peas, and canned Ocean Spray cranberry sauce, and a bottle of cheap Woodbridge Chardonnay. Oh, and some Heinz gravy in a jar. I made my meal, and I watched the Cowboys on TV (a yearly tradition for decades), and I was JUST FINE.

Merle Haggard: The Fightin' Side Of Me (1970)

I read about some squirrely guy,
Who claims, he just don't believe in fightin'.
An' I wonder just how long,
The rest of us can count on bein' free.
They love our milk an' honey,
But they preach about some other way of livin'.
When they're runnin' down my country, hoss,
They're walkin' on the fightin' side of me.

Merle Haggard: Mama Tried (1968)

The first thing I remember knowing
Was a lonesome whistle blowing
And a young'un's dream of growing up to ride
On a freight train leaving town
Not knowing where I'm bound
And no one could change my mind but Mama tried

One and only rebel child
From a family meek and mild
My mama seemed to know what lay in store
Despite all my Sunday learning
Towards the bad I kept on turning
Till Mama couldn't hold me anymore

And I turned twenty-one in prison doing life without parole
No one could steer me right but Mama tried, Mama tried
Mama tried to raise me better, but her pleading I denied
That leaves only me to blame 'cause Mama tried

Dear old Daddy, rest his soul
Left my mom a heavy load
She tried so very hard to fill his shoes
Working hours without rest
Wanted me to have the best
She tried to raise me right but I refused

Merle Haggard: Are The Good Times Really Over?

I wish a buck was still silver
It was back when the country was strong
Back before Elvis
Before the Vietnam war came along

Before The Beatles and 'Yesterday'
When a man could still work, still would
The best of the free life behind us now
And are the good times really over for good?

Are we rolling down hill
Like a snowball headed for Hell?
With no kind of chance
For the Flag or the Liberty Bell

Wish a Ford and a Chevy
Could still last ten years, like they should
Is the best of the free life behind us now?
Are the good times really over for good?

I wish Coke was still Cola
And a joint was a bad place to be
It was back before Nixon lied to us all on TV

Before microwave ovens
When a girl could still cook and still would
The best of the free life behind us now
Are the good times really over for good?

Lionel Dahmer: A Father's Story (1994, William & Morrow)

On p. 247, Lionel gives a list of items he had to retrieve from his son's home. Aside from the blood-stained sheets and pillow-cases and various tables, there were these specifics:

Videos: Blade Runner, Star Wars, Hellbound, Exorcist III, Hardmen II, Rock Hard, Tropical Heat Wave.

Music: Motley Crue; Def Leppard's "Hysteria" 

Books: Four books on the care of fish, the rest gay porn. 

Andy Griffith Dances (Season 6, Episode 22)

Seasons after 5 get a bad rap from Andy Griffith fans, 

but this episode from Season 6 is GREAT! 

Son Opie (Ron Howard) is afraid to dance, because at the last old-fashioned school dance, 

he stepped on a girl's toes. But there's some new dancin' afoot in 1965!

Side theme: Andy is revealed by his peers as having also been a clutz back in the day---

In this episode, he's the school dance chaperone, along with girlfriend Helen (the town school-teacher)---who inspires some 1965 moves from Andy!

(The metal music backdrop here is all I could find on YouTube for this funny scene! 

But it's kind of appropriate for this bizarro occurrence!)

Trump, Mamdani speak after White House meeting: FULL

Adults getting along. What a shocker!

New Cheap Chair

One of those "memory foam" chairs from Temu that comes vacuum-packed in a very small box, and then you un-box it and let it sit for 3 days and "plump it" a few times in the meantime, 'til it looks decent.

 

I like how this ended up looking. It's not super-comfortable (too hard---as my previously-bought expensive living-room chair with memory foam was), but it's...decent.

(I read some hyperbolic reviews online: "OMG, it's the most comfortable thing EVER... I fell asleep in it immediately." Like hell anyone would ever fall asleep on this!)

 

A couple of years ago, I had the old beige World Market chair in this room (bought used back in 2011 or so for a couple of hundred bucks) hauled away. It had a real cushion, but was by this time too stained (and had red candle-wax stains on one arm) to want to keep any more. Getting rid of it seemed symbolic of a new, fresh life at a new apartment.

 

This new thing was under $80. So I'll get my money's worth, sitting on it only every now and then. (But at least my "Thought Fox" and "Scream" pillows now have a home! They'd been randomly ensconced on a foot-stool ever since the last real chair went away.)

 

 

George Jones: Things Have Gone To Pieces (1965)

Trump: Saudi investment + trying to explain the insanity of "trannies"

Wow! Someone engaged with me!

Ever since COVID in 2020, I've been working from home. Which I at first thought was great, but then discovered was very isolating/lonely. Basically, the only people I ever see are at the corner beer store every other day, at the grocery store every few weeks, and at the post office twice-or-so a week when I drop off what I've been selling online.

Today when I went to the post office, I had on a "Plague Doctor" T-shirt. The clerk (with whom I've had friendly conversations with before, but just about business or mocking other customers) actually said he liked my shirt and where did I get it! (Similarly, last year some time, a 20-something girl working the seafood counter at the supermarket said she liked my George Jones T-shirt.)

When was the last time that anyone ever said they liked anything about me?! (While I do like working from home for the most part, there's also the missed everyday interactions: "Did you just get your hair cut?" "How 'bout them Cowboys!" "Nice shirt!" "Want to go out to Happy Hour?") 

Andy Griffith: Maggie Peterson + The Darlings: There Is A Time

Andy Griffith: Doug's Tune

Andy first suggests: "How 'bout 'Dirty Me, Dirty Me, I'm Disgusted with Myself'"---
This was turned down! :)
(90% of the time, Andy plays it straight. He does sneak a few weird things in, now and then.)

Ivor Novello in Hitchcock's "The Lodger" (1927)

I've been hearing for decades about Hitchcock's 1927 film "The Lodger," AND about Ivor Novello----not knowing anything much about either. I finally watched it last night.

Novello is very weirdly sexy. As soon as I saw him, I thought he was gay. Upon research next day: Yup, he was gay.
Yes, Hitchcock's staircase shots, etc., were interesting. As was the flashing "GOLDEN CURLS" show sign and his take on media and audience. (But: The 20-ft-high shadows in a middle-class boarding-house room, kind of far-fetched. And the foot-fetish bathtub scene---those ugly, fat toes were surely NOT of the leading lady. Was this some sort of Hitchcock joke, showing his own toes?)

From the beginning, Novello's "Lodger" character was presented as a complete weirdo. I quickly got bored with this, and started to invent my own story: Wouldn't it be interesting if he were NOT the killer, but instead was just in this boarding-house to FIND the killer of his sister or something? And maybe the police-man boyfriend of Daisy is actually the killer? (I was right about some of this, but not all.)

For a 1927 silent film, interesting.

1914: Keep the Home Fires Burning (written by Ivor Novello)

Protect your country, Brits. Then and now.

Andy Griffith Show: "The Midnight Special" (w' Andy and James Best)

Day Off: Three Minor Places to Go

I have very few places to go in my free time. I mean, there are places listed in the weekly paper that I could go to. (For instance, I'm into crystals, and there are shows.) Often, I just stay home on my days off. Not just because of hangovers; even on non-hangover days, I sometimes just am too lazy to get off the couch and stop watching TV.

Today, though, on Veterans Day, I just had 4 solid days off, and the weather was crisp and cool for the first time in forever, and I woke feeling like GETTING OUT THERE! (Now, to most of you, "getting out there" might mean a bit more! But for me, I was happy to feel like doing a little tour: Dollar Store, Catholic consignment store, Goodwill store.)

Results:

Dollar Store -- A cool (to me) spiral-trio hanging in the Christmas section for $1.50. (I like that spiral symbol, which is ancient, and not usually seen on any Christmas decorations!)
Catholic consignment store -- This place usually has VERY nice, unique things! It's not a Catholic "St. Vincent de Paul" store, but the same thing with a different name. I've only bought minor things from them in the past, like crystal bowls and other similar dishes. This time, found a hand-blown-glass thick vase, plus a wooden cross, both for about $20. 
Goodwill -- The Goodwill in my neighborhood is really bad. Huge space, but only about 10% of it is devoted to odds-and-ends. The vast majority is racks of clothes that I've never felt like rummaging through. The selection there is always very sparse when it comes to interesting things. (This time, I found a big metal "J" and a small metal "S" for $7---not pictured here, because my hands were full trying to cart all of my other finds---and dinner/beer---into my apartment. They're still sitting in the back seat of my car.) Oh, and p.s.: Goodwill has "Senior Discount" days on Tuesdays for 55+----The checkout girl didn't even ask for an ID today, just gave me the discount! I hate you, Goodwill! :)

 

 

I saw a real CROW today!!

Growing up in North Texas, and living in Austin (South Central Texas) for the majority of my adult life, I'd never seen a real-life Crow---just read about them, and their Raven cousins. (Thanks to Ted Hughes and Edgar Allan Poe, respectively.) 

Side note: Difference between Crows and Ravens.

What I'd always seen multitudes of in Austin were grackles! Just as plentiful and obnoxious in the city as pigeons. And they're black, but small. And not in the Crow/Raven "Corvidae" family.

The first time I saw a real Crow was when I lived in San Francisco in the mid-1990s. Looking down into the alley from my apartment window, and there was HUGE black bird! This thing was over a foot tall! I'd never seen ANY bird that big! It was a really odd thing to see in person, since I'd only been used to seeing little 4-6 inch tree birds and then, later, pigeons/grackles and such! Kind of freakish to witness firsthand a big bird walking around like that---so, yes, I see the sense of the uncanny associated with them. (I did see some big-ass geese strutting around outside of my workplace in New Jersey when I lived in that area 2007-2010---they left poop as big as puppies!---but they were hardly mysterious.)

After the one and only Crow in San Fran, I hadn't seen another since. Until today. In the parking lot of an Austin Dollar Store! 

From sciencenotes.org: Crows are often associated with:

• Death and omens: In many cultures, crows are viewed as harbingers of death or bad luck. This belief may stem from their scavenging behavior and presence near battlefields or cemeteries.
• Intelligence and cunning: Their tool use, vocalizations, and group strategies have earned them a reputation for cleverness.
• Transformation and trickery: In Native American mythology, crows are tricksters that bring change or reveal hidden truths.
• Urban adaptability: In modern symbolism, crows often represent survival, resourcefulness, or the “outsider” archetype.
  

I got no "bad vibes" at all from this bird; rather, just a sense of wonder and amazement. I didn't think to take out my phone to take a picture, but rather just stared at it and said out loud, "WOW! Oh my god. Look at you! Hi!"

somewhere I have never travelled,gladly beyond (ee cummings, 1931)

I haven't read ee cummings in DECADES, probably not since I was in college. I do have his Collected Works, but I don't sit down with it any more. (I rarely "sit down" with anything nowadays, other than the computer---to my intellectual and spiritual detriment.)

My Criterion Collection app/subscription doesn't have Woody Allen movies usually, but for this month, they have "Hannah and Her Sisters" available. This is another work that I haven't seen in decades, but immediately watched when I saw it was available. In it, a married man in love with his wife's sister buys the sister a cummings collection at a bookstore, and specifically asks her to read this poem. (I copied the below from the Poetry Foundation site version, which I suppose is true to cummings' original punctuation/spacing.)

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

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond

any experience,your eyes have their silence:

in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, 

or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me

though i have closed myself as fingers, 

you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens

(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me,i and 

my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,

as when the heart of this flower imagines

the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals 

the power of your intense fragility:whose texture

compels me with the colour of its countries,

rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes

and opens;only something in me understands

the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)

nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

Jeffrey Dahmer books: Monster

"Monster" is reporter Anne Schwartz's tale. She was a Milwaukee newspaper reporter first on the scene, the day after the murders were reported. She saw Dahmer's apartment firsthand---after only the police. And she had access to later police reports and social worker reports.

I read it yesterday: I got some minor insights into a press member's experience. But no insight at all into a serial killer's mind. 

I also just bought father Lionel Dahmer's book (but haven't read it yet)----maybe that will give me more clues.

Crowded House: Better Be Home Soon (1988)

Somewhere deep inside
Something's got a hold on you
And it's pushing me aside
See it stretch on forever

And I know I'm right
For the first time in my life
That's why I tell you
You'd better be home soon

Stripping back the cloaks
Of lies and deception
Back to nothingness
Like a week in the desert

And I know I'm right
For the first time in my life
That's why I tell you
You'd better be home soon

So don't say no, don't say nothing's wrong
Cos when you get back home maybe I'll be gone

When the nights go down
When you've had your fill
When there's nothing left

 

It would cause me pain
If we were to end it
But I could start again
You can depend on it

I know I'm right
For the first time in my life
That's why I tell you
You'd better be home soon
That's why I tell you
You'd better be home soon

Paul McCartney: The World Tonight (1997)

A good song, I think, but a rather cheesy video. 
And both John and Paul didn't EVER need to include their wives in their solo works.
(I'm a feminist, but neither Yoko nor Linda were interesting. 

Yoko had a better artistic pedigree---her NYC Fluxus exhibits---

but her subsequent attempts at "philosophy" were ridiculous and phony:

"World Peace"! What a concept!)

When there is no Love, then... Rules

Depeche Mode: Just Can't Get Enough

I used to drive around in the late '80s/early '90s with this 1981 song blasting.

It made me feel GREAT!
Today, at 60, I was driving around, and this song came on the BOB station in Austin.
Cranked it way up, rolled down my windows so everyone around me could hear it---

I was an obnoxious 20-something again! I momentarily felt GREAT again!
Some songs (and feelings)---however stupid and simple---are, nonetheless, immortal!

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

A few years later, I couldn't listen to them any more.
Their "Black Celebration" (1986) and "Violator" (1990) were the soundtracks to my desolate years after the breakup with my first girlfriend. 

Just as I used to love the brilliant "The Wall" album (1979). After missing Ginny so much after losing her in 1983, this album was all I listened to for months. I was as mentally wounded as "The Wall" narrator was. "The Wall" got me through some bad times, I suppose, knowing that someone else had been there. But in a very very sad way. 

I can't listen to "The Wall" or "Black Celebration" or "Violator" today.

Burn Another Honky Tonk Down (George Jones, 1966)

I work on the mountain cutting the timber
I work till my fingers are sore
Cutting the timber that goes through the sawmill
To build another honky tonk floor

While down in the valley she's spending my money
Having herself quite a ball
Spending my money I earn at the sawmill
To build another honky tonk bar

Early each morning I'm back on that mountain
Wishing her lies were the truth
Cutting the timber that goes through the sawmill
To build another honky tonk fool

But tonight it's all over
I'm through cutting timber
I know right where she'll be found
I look through the winders [!]
And if she's still in there
I'm gonna burn another honky tonk down...

What to do sans Disney/ESPN networks?

As of October 31, YouTubeTV (my streaming service since last July, which I'm very happy with in comparison to my previous Spectrum/Comcast cable) has had a contract dispute with Disney/ESPN. 

I despise the leftist Disney/ESPN conglomerate, but until this past weekend, I didn't think that whatever they did applied to me: 
I have no desire to watch any of the cheesy Disney channels. No loss there.
And I've sometimes liked watching ESPN morning talk shows re-capping the games of the night before----until they get to the dumbly blathering Stephen A. Smith or, in the evening, the mind-numbingly dull Scott Van Pelt. No thanks. (Though I've always liked "Get Up" with Mike Greenberg. And liked his earlier "Mike and Mike in the Morning" with Mike Golic thru 2017.)
Disney/ESPN also own ABC (again, absolutely NO loss there, either news or show-wise).
BUT: They also control ABC's Monday Night Football! PLUS the SEC conference college games, which the UT Longhorns appear on! YIKES!

So I didn't get to watch my Longhorns beat Vanderbilt this weekend. As of right now this Monday night: No Cowboys on TV, but I just figured out: RADIO! 98.1 KVET in Austin! Ha-ha! Like in the olden days of the '70s, when I drove around with my Daddy listening to games on AM radio in his pickup! 

There's a workaround for everything! 

Good riddance, Disney/ESPN, to you and your squirrelly, left-wing owners and hosts. (Not YOU, Mike Greenberg, but almost everyone else. Most of you have long sucked, especially Smith and Van Pelt.)

p.s. Third Quarter: The 2-5 Cardinals are beating the Cowboys 24 to 7. No reason for this. Maybe the Universe had been telling me that I didn't need to be watching this game at all!