The Daily Ed

Random Thoughts for February 16, 2010

2010-02-16T10:17:00.001-05:00

Hey, haven’t done one of these in ages... so without further ado:

Due to my overwhelming curiosity, I had a friend from “down under” send me some vegemite. I didn’t know what to expect. Well, I opened the package and discovered a tube of what looked and tasted like semi-solid, gritty snot. Apparently you’re supposed to eat it on buttered toast. No thank you.
One of the ads rejected by CBS for the Super Bowl was for a men’s gay dating website. It featured two guys watching a game who simultaneously reached into the potato chip bowl, brushed hands, and then began making out. I saw it online. It was actually kind of funny, but it was severely low-budget.
Speaking of ads, I didn’t see that Tim Tebow ad when it aired, and I refused to watch it this morning on the internet. Who decided that we need to have a political agenda rammed down our throats every possible minute? I half-expect the pepperoni on my next pizza will spell out GOP.
Somebody told me that you had a boyfriend, who looked like a girlfriend I had in February of last year. It’s not confidential. I've got potential.
I thoughtfully got myself some ice cream on Saturday and naturally put it in my freezer. Apparently the landlord had turned my fridge down to “less than 1” on the scale of 0 to 10, 10 being coldest. So when I went to have some ice cream, I discovered it was very soft. I didn’t want to waste it, so I ate the entire container. The end result is, I got a very nasty stomach ache. What a disappointment.
You know what’s a cool word? Vomerine. It’s descriptive of those teeth found in primitive vertebrates that are not attached to the jaw, but descend through the palate. If that’s not a recipe for a nasty bitten tongue, nothing is.
The song “Both Ends Burning” was written after a drunken, late-night Taco Bell run.
It snowed today, which is why I’m thrilled to now live in an apartment. I brushed off my car, and by the time I got back to the window I started on, it was covered again. I hate winter.
Another cool word is lozenge.
I had to correct “red eye” in a couple of pictures the other day. It’s part of the job, but I felt a little like when Rudolph’s father put a lump of clay on his nose. I left a little red around the edges to symbolize their inner demons.
Sometimes I wish I had one of those cool three word names, like James Fennimore Cooper or Andrew Lloyd Webber. I’ll probably need a cooler middle name than “Louis”. Maybe I should just try to get a nickname thrown in there, like Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. I’d be interested in hearing your ideas on the subject.

Well, that’s about all I’ve got for today. I’ll post more often, I promise.

Back in the Saddle

2010-02-09T19:14:00.006-05:00

Well!

I'm almost 100% moved in to my new digs: a spacious two bedroom apartment with relatively stain-free carpets and chalky white walls and ceilings. So now that my computer is all hooked up again, I thought I'd post to my blog. I know you all missed me.

Today, in addition to my usual five or six boxes of books (last count, I have close to 2,000 books, no lie), I brought my cat and my parakeets.

Weasley (the cat) put voice to his complaints for the entire nine minute car ride. He was fine. Right now he's cowering under the farthest corner of the bed, visible only by the eye shine when I look under to see how he's doing. He'll get over it.

The birds did okay, actually. I got them here, and in honor of their new accommodations, I thought I'd clean their cage.

The bottom tray slides right out, along with the metal grate that covers it. The quick application of a brass brush and elbow grease removed any traces of dried bird poop from the grate, but I noticed that they had soiled their perches, too. So I said, well, let's get them out of the cage so I could scrub down all the perches.

Makes sense, no?

I procured a small box to put the birds into, and opened the cage. There was the usual tweeting and flapping of wings, but finally I cornered Spritely, the green male bird, and wrapped my fingers around him.

This was not very popular with him, unfortunately, and he hopped just out of my hand when I began to catch him. As a result, I caught hold of his tail.

I swear I did not pull hard. Really, I didn't pull at all. He did all the pulling.

But I wound up with every one of his tail feathers in my hand, and he wound up on the perch squawking at me. He even reached down and bit me, for good measure.

I felt awful, of course, but they will grow back.

I hope.

In this shot, you can see that Spritely's tail is much shorter than his cagemate's.

Oops.

NEWSFLASH!

2009-12-21T21:50:00.003-05:00

Recording artist (and recent judge on NBC's Sing Off) looks like 70's-era Sesame Street character Don Music:

Ben Folds

Don Music

AN INCREDIBLE COINCIDENCE!

Pictures of Santa Claus

2009-12-13T08:42:00.004-05:00

I did a quick Google search and came across a few pictures of Santa Claus that I think merit some discussion. And since I haven't posted in a while, I thought it would be most appropriate.

First off, we have a fairly traditional Santa, with the exception of some odd buttons in the middle of his fur trim. Maybe they got confused with a snowman. But my favorite part of this picture is the fact that he is very clearly doing the "pull my finger" trick.

**********

Next, we have a lovely painting of Santa decorating a Christmas tree in a woodland setting. If you look closely, you'll see some elves are helping. Or are they oompa loompas? No, clearly they're Christmas elves. Based on the scale of this illustration, Santa may have given up his characteristic "ho ho ho" for "fee fi fo fum".

**********

This one is a little creepy. Santa is in one of those poses we famously saw that Heaven's Gate guy in, and he's peering over his glasses as though he's trying to mesmerize us with his piercing blue eyes. Couple that with the old "he sees you when you're sleeping" line and it becomes the stuff of nightmares.

**********

Oh, sure, at first this picture doesn't look all that bad. It's Santa, and he's sitting in a chair. Okay, that's not that unusual--but what is unusual is the type of chair he's sitting in. We usually see him sitting on a giant arm chair or even a throne, but here he's sitting on the kind of chair you sit on at the kitchen table. I'm okay with the thought of Santa bringing my presents, but I'm not sure I like the whole Goldilocks routine where he sits in our chairs and eats our cookies. What's next, is he going to sleep in our beds? Or heaven forbid he should decide to use our bathrooms!

**********

Finally, we have a picture of Santa who is either surprised to be seen drinking coffee, or who has just suffered a myocardial infarction from eating too many rich desserts. Either way, I'm sure he just soiled his suit. Which means that unless he keeps a change of clothes or at least a new pair of shorts in his sleigh, it's going to be a long, uncomfortable night for him.

**********

So there we have my exploration of images of Santa Claus. I sincerely hope you and yours have a happy and safe holiday season (encompassing the religious holiday of your choosing and New Years, hence the term "holiday season").

So there.

Alarming Bookstore Items

2009-12-06T12:32:00.004-05:00

http://www.amazon.com/Cat-Butts-Blue-Q-Kits/dp/0762422173/ref=sr_1_11?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1260121237&sr=1-11

http://www.amazon.com/Fancy-Coffins-Make-Yourself-Power/dp/0764312499/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1260120923&sr=1-1-spell

http://www.amazon.com/How-Good-bye-Depression-Constrict-Everyday/dp/0595094724/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1260120661&sr=8-1

Random Thoughts, and Yes, I know It's Been A While

2009-12-04T12:30:00.005-05:00

Okay, so I saw this Christmas ornament for sale, and no matter how hard I look at it, it sincerely looks like Santa is chucking the bird. For that reason, I sincerely approve and endorse this product.
I decided to skip lunch today and instead had a bottled water and a bag of Stacy's "Simply Naked" Pita Chips. You know what? I feel much better not having had some greasy slop scraped off the grill.
We're doing another craft show tomorrow... I'll let you know how it comes out. I'm going to take pictures of the display so you can see the trees I made for Chris to hang her jewelry off of. Tonight, I have to put the finishing touches to those trees.
If cleanliness is next to godliness, then explain John the Baptist. I mean the man ate bugs.

Christmas is coming, of course, and that means buying presents. I like buying presents, I really do. It's just that the phone company wants to get paid in December, too.

The other day I was eating at some Asian buffet and they started playing "My Heart Will Go On" in Chinese. And you thought it was annoying in English.

I don't know why everyone is shocked that Tiger Woods cheated on his wife, other than the fact that she looked like the type of woman other men cheat on their wives with. Since when is anyone shocked by marital infidelity among the obscenely rich?

And as far as that voice mail message was concerned, he called and said "Hey, this is Tiger." What other non-porn-star adult goes by the name Tiger? And once you've established a sexual relationship with a woman, do you really have to tell her who you are when you call her?

They gave out free cookies at work today, so I suppose technically I had a bag of pita chips and two peanut butter cookies. But that's still an improvement.

Hey, when you're paying your bills this month just remember there are two C's in my last name.

I'm going to try to draw a few cartoons. There: I said it. If they don't totally suck, I'll post them. I know a few cartoonists and it will be interesting to see what they think.

You know what I miss? Halfway predictable weather patterns. That's what I miss.

I want to start sewing handbags. How gay is that? Next thing you know I'll be following Harvey Fierstein on Twitter...

Okay, now that my desk is covered in fine granules of pita chips, it's time to resume work.

Matthew 5:3-10 (As Interpreted by American Conservatives)

2009-11-24T10:25:00.004-05:00

Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Unless they don’t worship or look the same as us. We don’t know where they’re going, but it’s not heaven.

Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
Unless the person who died was executed by the state. He got what he deserved, and they need to get over it.

Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the earth.
Unless they’re here illegally. They need to go back where they came from.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.
Except for that ACLU and PETA and all those other bleeding heart liberal organizations. They're full, all right—full of crap.

Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
Unless it refers to people just looking for a government hand out. Why should our tax money go to pay some teenage girl so she can feed her baby?

Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they will see God.
Unless they’re gay, because we all know they’re going straight to hell.

Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called sons of God.
Except for Obama. He wasn’t even born here. And how dare he take our troops out of Iraq?

Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
And by "righteousness", we mean "sharing the same beliefs as us".

A Bad Romance Story

2009-11-18T20:32:00.002-05:00

It all began with a glance. A furtive glance, at that, which he took over his shoulder while paying Kim for the striped polo shirt he was buying for casual Friday. Kim was a friend, after all, not the sort of girl you date. Well, he would have dated Kim but for the fact that she'd already turned him down.

But it was the glance, remember, that brought Amanda to his attention. Blonde, young, short, too much make-up... worth a second look.

Yes, she was all that and more. She had that frantic look of desperation in her eyes that clearly announced her eligibility.

"Wow," he said, in such a way that Kim couldn't help but look up from the second try on his credit card. "She's cute."

"Who," Kim asked, "Amanda?"

A-man-daaaah. He let the name slide through his mind like he was weighing whether he'd like moaning it in her ear. It was okay.

"I suppose, if that's her name," he said. He stole another look. Sure, she had a weak chin and didn't realize leg warmers didn't really make it past 1987, but underneath that tasseled sweater, she might just have a nice rack.

"I can get you a date with her," Kim said with entirely too much certainty.

"Oh?" he asked a bit too quickly.

Well, Kim was certainly good on her word, and it wasn't much longer that Amanda met him for coffee. Lousy coffee, actually, but the company was relatively pleasant, and it led to lousy sex.

But the first time is always lousy, everyone knows, until you figure out all the bumps and groves after the second or third time. By the fifth time, the sex was still lousy--apparently she felt too self-conscious to be on top--and they stopped having it all together.

Days passed between calls, and he started being busy when she wanted to drag him to some movie that she wanted to see. After a while, she realized he wasn't calling her first or returning her calls and she gave up.

He, on the other hand, started buying his clothes anonymously from Target.

Gettin' Crafty

2009-11-17T13:39:00.009-05:00

As promised, here are some pictures of the frogs I'd made for the craft show we were supposed to have on Saturday but which was postponed until Sunday.

I brought six of them and sold three, which is an excellent ratio, if not an exciting quantity.

Of course, we had more than stuffed frogs to sell. My wife was there with all of her jewelry and hair ties, as well as other crocheted and cross-stitched items. We sold a total of fifteen items and made back what the table cost us, and then some.

It was quite a learning experience. We spent a lot of time setting up, so it will be necessary to streamline that process considerably. We also did not have an attractive, eye-catching way of displaying our wares, which is absolutely vital. I will be building things for her for next time, and I will take pictures so you can see what we came up with.

All in all it was a very good first effort, and Chris is very excited about her next craft show.

Friday the Day Before the Fourteenth

2009-11-13T07:27:00.002-05:00

I'm not superstitious, but there is always an expectation that the people you encounter on Friday the Thirteenth are going to engage in some monkeyshines or otherwise be a pain in the ass. This is the plight of someone who works directly with the public.
When I was little, even in the rural community I grew up in, you could count on there being kids all over the neighborhood, playing outside. Today, not so much. In fact, if I see kids walking along the sidewalk, my first thought is that they're up to no good.
You know what? I've given up on canned soup. No matter what kind it is or who makes it, it always has this metallic taste and smells really foul. Plus it's salty as hell. I'll make my own soup, thank you.
I'm finally getting the hang of my new sewing machine (it was an early Christmas present). I suppose it's no secret to most of you but in case you didn't know, I have been sewing since I was two years old. Since I just turned thirty six, that's almost thirty four years of sewing, and most of that has been by hand. I will continue to sew by hand any project that has to be as precise as my fine art pieces are, but for small projects like the frogs I'm making for my wife's craft show, I'm only too happy to take advantage of the sewing machine's incredible speed.
No, I don't make clothes.
November's half over already, and I'm pretty glad. The holiday season always goes by too fast, and I can't wait for 2009 to be over.
Can someone please tell Sarah Palin that anyone with a ninth grade education considers her no more than the punchline of a joke? Cripes, she makes Dan Quayle look really good, and considering the lampooning he got in the world's media, that's saying a lot.
I am by no means a professional photographer, but I have learned a few things about taking pictures. One of them is that you should try to take pictures of people at eye-level. That means that if you want to photograph someone who is sitting down, you should crouch or at least lean over in such a way that you're taking their picture horizontally, instead of from a high angle. I think it is more respectful to the person you're photographing, because when you take it from above, there's a feeling of condescension. Just a thought for those of you trying to take pictures of your kids opening presents this Christmas.
My cats are, again, making it difficult for me to want to get up this morning. I'm looking at them sleeping, all curled up making the letter C (for Cat). Every now and then they make a contented sigh and roll over to lay on their other side... I think I'd love to be a cat.
But on that note, I must get going. I certainly hope you are all enjoying your day so far and have a good weekend!

Poem for 11/11/2009

2009-11-11T12:31:00.004-05:00

anxious

the shadows of my memories have shaken free

now they haunt me

clutching
          and clawing at my ankles

their cold fingers grip my throat
          choking my voice

scaring my memories of now
          into shadows for tomorrow

Breakfast: The first disappointment of the day

2009-11-10T11:36:00.003-05:00

Yesterday morning I bought what I thought was a pumpkin cake muffin from the cafeteria, but it turned out to be a muffin-shaped glob of canned pumpkin pie filling with crumbled pieces of crust on top. I discovered this when I encountered substantial resistance while trying to slice it in half. Well, after an hour of small forkfuls, I still hadn’t finished it. In fact, I had become quite sick of eating it, and had to get a soda to settle my stomach because I was somewhat nauseated. That was remarkably disappointing.
Today I decided to try plain oatmeal, instead, thinking it was both better for me and cheaper. Undoubtedly both are true, but I added too much water and now it’s a cup full of murky, beige fluid. When I move the spoon, it stirs up a blizzard of opaque white oatmeals. It’s also piping hot, and severely deficient in flavor. This is why I usually skip breakfast.
Zooey Deschanel is an absolute babe, don’t get me wrong, but based on the spelling of her name it should rhyme with “Gooey”, not “Joey”, and I find that rather irritating.
The bird we know as a cardinal was named after the characteristic red vestments worn by Catholic cardinals. I wonder if widespread knowledge of this fact would make a few states reconsider their choice of official state bird.
I’m thirty-six years old and can be counted on to behave like an adult, but a well placed fart can make me giggle like a six year old.
Speaking of immaturity: there is an actual geographic locality called Bumpass, Virginia.
Buying used CDs might not help the artist any, but it’s a great way to pick up some tunes on the cheap. I snagged the Eels and Portishead off Amazon for eight dollars total, including shipping and handling. That’s something.
Oh, my wife’s craft show is coming up this Saturday, November 14th, at the Tiogue School in Coventry, RI, and I have some stuff to sell there, too. Not much, mind you, but on such short notice (two weeks or so) I’ve been able to bang out a few stuffed toys. I will be there with my wife, so if you want to meet someone who is absolutely NOT a celebrity, come on down! My wife’s jewelry is beautiful, and you can’t beat her prices. Send me an email if you need directions.

Prize Inside!

2009-11-08T08:18:00.004-05:00

This morning I changed the cat box, which in itself is not worthy of a blog post. But after I lacerated my thumb tearing off the plastic strip opening the new tub o' litter, I was quite surprised to find something floating on the top of the clay:

Yes, apparently "Tidy Cats" has joined the ranks of breakfast cereal and Cracker Jacks and now offers a free prize inside.

I'm a big fan of free things, don't get me wrong, but did anyone stop to think that the entire purpose for cat litter is to be pooped in, and they've put food in it?

Insert obvious joke about it all winding up in there anyway here.

Cats don't care about things like that—heck, they eat each other's puke—but the marketing ploy is aimed at human beings, who might find that kind of disgusting.

I haven't given the snacks to the cats yet, but they seem interested. While I was photographing the little bag, Domino stuck his head into one of the pictures. . .

Nerdy is as Nerdy Does

2009-11-07T21:03:00.004-05:00

Anyone who knew me as a teenager knew that I was, shall we say, nerdy. That's putting it mildly. I weighed one-thirty-five and wore taped up brown plastic glasses (Bobby Santilli had uncanny aim with a dodge ball). They stopped inviting me to parties when they discovered that I couldn't attend one without bursting into tears. Oh, high school was SUCH a trip...

But the point of bringing this up is that I would like to think that the playing field has been leveled when my former classmates and I have reached our thirties. I figure everyone has gotten over things like zits and gym class and grade-point-averages, and now I can be, well, cool. (Somewhere Bobby Santilli just snorted out whatever he was drinking.)

But in all seriousness, I think I've improved my conversation skills and developed enough of a sense of humor for people to actually enjoy talking to me. So when I log on to Facebook and see a friend is already logged on, I feel confident clicking open a chat window, and then I type "hey"--the same damn thing I start every online conversation with.

This is a true story: I once sent so many emails to the same person with the subject "hey" that we both got mixed up and couldn't remember which "Re: hey" we were replying to.

Emails have a way of decaying, don't they? I mean, you start with a nice five or six paragraph missive and then the other person replies with answers to the questions you'd asked, and then you reply with your reaction to their answers, and then they might come back with a one-liner like "yeah, I keep busy", and then you write back something clever, and then she doesn't write back and I feel stupid and write an email back two days later asking if I hurt her feelings and that I understand if she wants to remove me from her friends list.

Maybe I'm not all that cool after all...

Random Thoughts for November 5, 2009

2009-11-05T07:26:00.003-05:00

It is my sincere opinion that certain expressions have outlived their usefulness. One of these is "raw deal". It's always cast as a negative thing, but I think a cooked deal sounds worse. Another one might be "head over heels". Shouldn't it be "heels over head"? Last time I checked, my head is always over my heels, unless I'm lying down, at which point I'm either asleep or watching TV, so I don't give it much thought.
You know what's scary? When you re-read a bullet point you just wrote in a blog article and realize you inadvertently sounded like Andy Rooney. The implications of that are frightening.
Some kid came dressed as Sarah Palin for Halloween last Saturday and I almost didn't give her any candy. Her mother shouted from the end of the driveway something like "that's what you get for not supporting universal health care." That's a funny mom.
Nothing can get quite as cold as the other person's feet in bed.
Some Purdue alumni group invited me to go dancing in the ballroom atop one of the big buildings in downtown Indianapolis. The email had a picture of a pair of worn-out cowboy boots. Having lived right smack in downtown Indianapolis, I can honestly tell you that no one within a forty block radius of any big building in that city associates "dancing" with "cowboy boots".
While they don't speak, my parakeets managed to clearly state their opinion of the raisins I put in their seeds for a snack: I came home that day and found they had systematically flung them out of their cage. I wish I could have seen their faces while they were doing that.
I'm trying to sew up some things for my wife's craft show next week. I'm not sure if I'll get them done or even if they'll be popular, but this is a good way to test the waters, so to speak. I'll take pictures and let you know how it went.
After carefully weighing the options, my wife had a tooth removed this week. The decision was made much easier by the insurance company, who flat out said they'd pay for removal, but not for the thousand dollar root canal. Meanwhile she's paid like three thousand dollars in dental insurance premiums over the last eleven years and had maybe four cleanings. Tell me again why we're doing this?
Don't forget to tell me what you think. I enjoy your comments!

Random Thoughts for November 1, 2009

2009-11-01T17:45:00.003-05:00

When I worked for the bus company, there was an on-going problem with drivers stopping in the middle of their routes for bathroom breaks. There were only so many times a driver could park the bus to take care of a "matter of urgent, personal necessity." That's about as good a euphemism as you'll ever see.
My two male cats have decided they don't want to wear their collars any more. Domino chewed and clawed at his so much we just took it off him, and then Weasley emerged from wherever he sleeps all day sans-cravat. I guess that's a guy thing: going "commando" feline-style.
Sign of the times: I saw a Dodge Viper on the side of the road with a cardboard "For Sale" sign.
There's a charitable organization where you pay a flat rate for a box of groceries that they decided you were going to eat. My wife and I tried it, thinking we could save money that way. Sixty bucks a box, and we wound up throwing out or donating half the food. They advertise their meat as "restaurant-quality". It's true--except that restaurant is Denny's. After two times we went back to Walmart.
I'm getting a cold, which is following hard on the heels of the mononucleosis I'm barely over. You'd think I would be used to it by now, but I really hate being sick.
James Cameron has a new movie out called Avatar. I just heard about it watching the Vikings/Packers game, and I think it looks pretty cool. Check out the trailer: http://www.metacafe.com/watch/3653561/avatar_movie_trailer_hd/
Hey, if you're in the Rhode Island area November 14th, stop by the Harvest Craft Show at Tiogue School in Coventry between ten and three. I'll be helping my wife sell her jewelry (and I may have some craft items of my own there, too). I'll tell you what--mention this blog and receive your entire order at the regular price. How can you beat that?
You know those ads with the "roaming gnome"? Apparently there was a fad back in the late nineties where people were kidnapping yard gnomes, taking them on vacation, and then sending photos of the gnome at various landmarks back to the owner, kind of like ransom notes. I think America's over that fad. I know the ads are getting old.
There's no escaping it--Christmas season is staring us right in the face. I got most of my shopping done this weekend, when I schlepped the wifeage over to Target and bought a bunch of toys for the kids on our shopping list. Yep.
Okay, some of my bullet points are funnier than others. Now if you will excuse me, I have to take some more DayQuil.

She thinks my tractor's sexy... I hope so, anyway

2009-10-28T19:28:00.007-04:00

As promised, here are the tractor pictures.

I imaginatively call them Red Tractor, Blue Tractor, and Green Tractor.

Please tell me what you think.

Cleaning my Studio: A Modern Fairy Tale

2009-10-25T12:43:00.007-04:00

A while back, a somewhat popular gift item was a circular potholder cleverly stitched with the words "A Round Tuit". The idea was, of course, that people often declare they will do things when they get around to it, and, having received the potholder, they now have gotten A Round Tuit.

Ha Ha.

But remembering the old Round Tuit made me think of how I've been putting off cleaning my studio/office. I know I'd be more productive, and I hate wasting time looking for all my things before I can start a project. But there are a few things in the way:

In order to put away the arts and crafts supplies that I have all over the house, I have to take stock of the books I am not currently using and box them up.
In order to have a place to put those boxes of books, I have to rearrange how I have my fabric stored, because it's either stuffed into a colossal storage bin that is now bent because of the succession of colossal storage bins that rest atop it, or it's jammed into cardboard boxes, which I'm going to need to put the books in.
In order to rearrange the fabric storage, I'm going to need to use the dining room table, which right now is covered in various carpentry and painting tools that I have not yet put away from the ongoing home improvement projects that seem to keep coming up.
In order to put the tools away, thus freeing up the dining room table, I'm going to need to rearrange the stuff in the basement. Now the good news here is that the basement has recently seen a large stack of useless crap get sold off at the yard sale we had a few weeks ago.
Rearranging the basement, however, requires that I not only figure out where to put all the tools and leftover two-by-fours, but also bring a stack of more useless crap that my wife has decided needs to go in the basement, AND retain enough open space so that I can still use my power tools. As it is, I have to buy wood in six foot lengths instead of the standard eight foot length because my table saw doesn't have enough room to handle it.
Now, once I get the new useless crap stored in the basement, I can get to what will alleviate the entire situation: building a closet immediately opposite the door to the basement, where currently a toilet and sink are--completely viewable from other rooms, not unlike the commode in a prison cell, and therefore completely useless. Then I'd have room for all the boxes of books and bins of fabric, and then some.

The only problem is, in order to build that closet, I need to take my tools out of the cellar...

Random Thoughts for October 24, 2009

2009-10-24T10:21:00.004-04:00

The auto parts store Napa is advertising a sale on Old World brand windshield wipers. I suppose it's better than Third World wiper blades, but isn't it kind of stupid to be calling new parts "old"?

One time, when he was hosting the Daily Show, Craig Kilborn recited a list of Ricky Martin's accomplishments (former member of Menudo, clean-cut teen heartthrob, etc.) and said that it "qualified him for a PhD from Gay University." I'm bringing that up because yesterday in the mail I received my very own copy of the Holiday 2009 Barbie Collector Catalog.

In other, completely unrelated news, I have already gotten my Christmas gift: a brand-new Singer model 2932 sewing machine. It's got 35 stitch patterns and an automatic threader. I looked at a few of them, and while the Project Runway Edition Brother sewing machine looked good, the Singer seemed better made and was quite a bit heavier, which will keep it stable while I'm trying to use it. My life-partner Chris is excited about this too, because those curtains in the living room have GOT to go. I mean, they're so last year.

And in case you're wondering, "life-partner Chris" refers to my wife Christine. Comedy, folks. Comedy. Now, if you will excuse me, they're showing a good movie on Logo.

I recently broke open a fortune cookie and, before I could read the fortune, my kitten swiped it off the table and ate it. I'm not superstitious or anything, but that's not a good omen, is it?

My wife wants me to make business cards for her, so I dug back in my memory for the last time I designed cards in the 1990's. So after I explained the offset printing process and Pantone colors, we discussed various black and white designs. I went to Kinko's website to check the prices. You know what? The prices haven't changed—$50 for 1000 cards—but that price now includes edge-to-edge, full-color printing. I guess this is what happens when you can't find a steady job in the graphic art field for twenty years.

After singing for their breakfast this morning, my parakeets have gone back to sleep on their perch. What a perfect way to spend a rainy Saturday. Unfortunately, I have to go paint a green tractor.

Wait, you might be thinking, a green tractor? Why? Well, it's like this: My sister-in-law's sister-in-law asked me to paint three tractors for her son: a red one, a blue one, and one with a barn. I did some research and learned that red tractors are made by a company called Cockshutt (no lie) and blue tractors are made by Ford, and I had no problem painting those two tractors. The third painting, which remember has to have the barn in it, gave me some trouble. I figured a barn would be red, so I thought a green tractor would go with it nicely, and of course green tractors are John Deere tractors. So I looked at a few photos of Deeres, and I got ready to paint away... and then I got mononucleosis. Which means I wasn't able to stay awake for more than two hours at a time. This is a serious hamper on the creative process, but I juked out the same warm cream background I'd painted for the other two (to keep it consistent) and I laid in a barn... and I screwed it up. Screwed it up I did, as only a tired hand with a paint brush in it could. That's okay because I smartly bought four canvases instead of three. So now I've got to start over. So, Jenny, if you're reading this, this is why I'm not done yet.

So, reading between the lines, you see I have to go get my butt in gear and start painting a green tractor. The birds even started chattering at me to get back to the easel. Either that, or it was Lou Bega's "Mambo Number Five" that woke them up. Yeah, I know, everyone's over that song, but it's still in my playlist and I see no reason to remove it.

So there.

Things I'd Rather Be Doing: A Classic Poem by Ed

2009-10-21T17:13:00.002-04:00

Driving to Tulsa on bald tires;
Using my spit to put out fires

Going to the market without any cash;
Robbing a stoner of his well-hidden stash

Pan-frying bacon while in the nude;
Telling a gang that they’re being rude

Going to sleep in a large garbage bag;
Walking past a biker bar while in drag

Stabbing myself with some broken glass;
Informing a date that I just passed gas

Spending next summer out in Death Valley;
Dining each night at a bowling alley

Enrolling in school to be an au pair;
Stuffing barbed wire in my underwear

Playing with matches while covered in grease;
Giving the finger to the local police

Sweeping behind a whole herd of goats;
Running to Maine while wearing six coats

Trimming my nose hair with wire strippers;
Chasing a train in a bathrobe and slippers

Telling a psycho it’s all in his head;
Chewing away on a big bar of lead

Driving too fast on a road slick with ice;
Following closely a loser’s advice

Spending two days in a box full of rats;
Listening to someone sing selections from Cats

Playing hopscotch with a live hand grenade;
Drinking yellow stuff that’s not lemonade

Reading excerpts from Paris Hilton’s biography;
Attempting to map eastern Europe geography

Using a hand spade to dig my own grave;
Typing a novel and not hitting “save”.

Purchasing New Coke ‘cause it’s new and improved;
Watching somebody have an eyeball removed

Enjoying myself too much with a cow;
Jumping in front of a speeding snow plow

Teasing my hair into an afro;
Pushing the mop at a live peep show

Using a blowtorch to clean up my yard;
Dipping my cat in a bucket of lard

Laying for days in a bed full of tacks;
Paying ten grand for Bill Cosby’s earwax

Erecting a ladder under live wires;
Plucking my eyebrows with vice gripping pliers

Speaking in public while high on cheap dope;
Inhaling the smoke when they pick a new pope

Pureeing six hamsters then drinking the juice;
Moving up north and molesting a moose

Coming to work while dressed up as Cher;
Using my head to force feed a bear

Discovering too late my foot’s in a trap;
Shipping some glassware without bubble wrap

Walking in sewerage without any shoes;
Reading the Star and the Weekly World News

Rewiring a toaster while nude in the tub;
Approaching a lion and stealing its cub.

I TOLD you I'd have more today!

2009-10-20T17:12:00.003-04:00

You may have noticed already, but none of my postings so far have a unified typeface or size. This is not a matter of artistic taste; this is an unfortunate side-effect of writing in several different word processing programs. I hope this is okay with you. It bothers the hell out of me.

Latest theory: "Glee" is just "High School Musical" Fox-ified. Discuss.

You know that feeling, like after you've eaten chicken wings or corn on the cob, when you've got something lodged between your teeth and the pressure is so uncomfortable that you actually risk the faux pas of digging it out with the crimped edge of a Sweet-n-Low package at the restaurant? Okay, now, do you know the relief that comes when you've finally dug it out? I've had whole periods of my life like that, metaphorically speaking, and have found ways to dislodge the source of my malcontent. I guess a good name for that would be "mental floss".

Yes, I know there are several publications by that name.

A while back I picked up David Sedaris's book, When You Are Engulfed In Flames. I loaned it to a friend before I got a chance to read it, and since he gave it back to me, it's been sitting on my desk. Finally, while waiting for the phone guys to repair my staticky line, I started reading the first few pages. In the first few pages of his book, he's made fun of three women, divulged his opinion of parasitic worms, and disclosed that he himself caught crabs from a used pair of pants. This is my kind of author!

It occurred to me today that the carpet in my office would last years longer if people didn't walk by every hour or so to take a smoke break. I wonder if that's taken into consideration by the manufacturers?

I can still distinctly remember the very first time I met with conflicting messages from authority figures. Having been taught that Pride is not only a sin but a deadly sin, I was quite surprised when, in second grade, I saw that one of the criteria for determining whether a student took his studies seriously was the extent to which he took "pride in his work". I never spoke of this before, but that was probably the first time it ever occurred to me that not only could my father be wrong, so could the church and the school. That was among the first germs of my blossoming cynicism.

As for my father being wrong, to my eyes that was a given long before age seven. But that is a story for another blog posting.

If your boss follows everything you say with "Anyway..." and goes on to a new topic, you're probably not going to get Employee of the Month.

Isn't there some sort of law that prevents people from building—let alone leaving fully inflated and tethered to their decks—flying-saucer-shaped balloons? If nothing else, he should be arrested for naming his son "Falcon".

That's about all for today, folks.

Random Thoughts for October 19, 2009

2009-10-19T17:07:00.007-04:00

You never really think about the dangers of a ceiling fan until your kitten climbs up on an exposed rafter and sticks his tail into it. Then it looks like some sort of Poe-inspired torture device. He did, however, brush some of the dust off of the blades, so it wasn't a total loss.

I’ve heard interviews with quarterbacks like Peyton Manning and Tom Brady, and they sound like normal guys. Why is it, then, that when they’re lined up on the field, every single quarterback sounds like he’s got constipation? “SEVENTY-EIGHT! SEVENTY-EIGHT! BLUE FORTY-NINE! HUH-HUTT!”

If you’re wondering what to get me for Christmas, I’d be perfectly happy with forty-five minutes of Drew Barrymore’s undivided attention.

When your mom makes Rice Krispie treats, they're good. When you buy them individually wrapped, in a box from Sam's Club, they're sickening. I'm just sayin'.

It's really hard to write on a blog when I've taken my sleeping pills... Sorry this one is so brief! I'll collect my thoughts tomorrow and post more.

Attention Purdue Fans: Sneak Preview of Gene Keady's Hallowe'en Costume

2009-10-17T21:24:00.004-04:00

Incredible Coincidence

2009-10-17T07:11:00.006-04:00

Is it me, or does Dana Carvey look like Reba McEntire's brother?

Random Thoughts for October 15, 2009

2009-10-15T15:50:00.005-04:00

I have this strange urge to eat calamari. Calamari, lightly breaded in cracker crumbs, sautéed, and seasoned with a little parmasean cheese and parsley. Go figure.

I accidentally watched a few minutes of a show featuring a couple who didn’t want their young son to be an only child, so they went to a fertility clinic and wound up with sextuplets, making seven kids total. They were microwaving a half-dozen baby bottles full of formula, complete with the nipple. I’m not a parent, but that seemed wrong to me. Of course, not as wrong as delivering a fertility-spawned litter. But still.

If I were Neo from the Matrix, I would have said to Morpheus, “Why, yes, I do think that’s air I’m breathing.”

Why does a needy child need to be born in a third world country for a celebrity to adopt it? If Brangelina decided to adopt a kid from a bad neighborhood, wouldn’t that be just as heroic?

I watched my friend Marietta draw something on an internet broadcast the other night. She’s good. Very good. I won’t say I’m jealous, because I’ve come to terms with my incapacity as a draftsman. I will say I was in awe of what comes from a fair amount of instruction applied to a wealth of talent. Here’s her portfolio: http://www.brushtocanvas.net/ Quite an impressive young woman.

Unlike “cauliflower ear”, “melon balls” is not a medical condition.

It’s October, which makes us think of beer, bratwurst, and sauerkraut. I have to wonder why the entire nation of Germany hasn’t died of a massive coronary by now.

I returned to work on Wednesday, as scheduled, because I thought I was over the mono. I was wrong. I am nodding off at work and I keep forgetting things. Of course, Reagan did that, too, and no one took him to task for that.

Thoughts at Random for October 13, 2009

2009-10-13T19:34:00.006-04:00

Has anyone seen those Aspen Dental ads? They're so melodramatic, it's sickening. "Everyone called me snaggle-tooth," one woman admitted, and was relieved that Aspen Dental was able to fix her teeth. Everyone called me an asshole in high school, and it took years of psychiatry, medication, and therapy to significantly reduce the number who shared that opinion. Still, it's better than wearing braces as an adult.

Speaking of advertisements, I've figured out there's an inverse ratio between how infrequently you use a product and how often the ads appear on TV. You buy groceries twice a month, but you don't see a single ad for lettuce anywhere. Now, how often do you buy a new car? Paint your house? Get a new mattress? I'm guessing maybe once every seven years, but all you have to do is wait fifteen minutes and you'll see an ad for each of them. I don't see how local car dealers can afford to keep sponsoring the Today show.

I think anyone who can name more than twelve countries in Africa is a show-off.

Do they still make Life cereal? That stuff sucked. As soon as it hit the bowl, the pieces shattered into a pile of miniature storm-grates. It also had a shorter crunch-life than any other cereal--as soon as the milk was poured, it became unappetizing sludge. Thank goodness I'm lactose intolerant.

Boy Patrick Kennedy looks like crap. I think he's gained weight. But then again, the last couple years have been very bad for that poor guy. Representative Kennedy, if you're reading this, you can count on my continued support, and my votes. Of course, if you're reading this, I'm dreaming.

In other local news, a zamboni caught fire at a local skating rink. How does a zamboni catch on fire? It's full of water and it's sitting on like 1,000 square feet of ice. I don't get it.

Sometimes I feel like a nut. Usually I remember my medication.

I think the state of California has eclipsed the state of Texas for the worst weather in the U.S. Thoughts?

Whenever I watch the University of Oklahoma play football, I get their fight song stuck in my head for a week. Dun-da-dun dunnn, Dun-da-dun-dunnn! Dun-da-dun-dunnn, Dun-da-dun-dunnn! It's cute, as far as fight songs go, but I'd rather not have any song stuck in my head.

You can add "mahogany" to the list of words that sound really funny when said with a French accent.

Michael Jackson's last concert is going to be released in theaters soon, but will only be shown for two weeks. I wonder who's going to get the hundreds of millions of dollars that's going to generate? I sincerely hope it's his kids.

I mailed a package to Kansas City today. Never in a million years would I have guessed I would have mailed a package to Missouri, let alone Kansas City. I guess that goes to show... oh you just knew I had to use that.

Yard Sale!

2009-10-11T17:01:00.008-04:00

I was in the cellar looking for the brush to clean the dryer vent when I realized that I was far too wide to squeeze between all the stacks of plastic bins and copy-paper boxes full of useless crap we'd stored down there. So it was decided that we should have a yard sale.

The best place for this, it turned out, was my in-laws' house a few miles away, so we drove over with a carload and began strewing them on the corner of their lawn they had saved for us.

Yard sales always seem to have the same stuff—cruddy glassware, five of a six-piece coffee mug set, old holiday decorations, stacks of National Geographics, hopelessly outdated electronics, vinyl records (complete with the yellowed tape holding the covers together), garments kindly described as "old lady clothes", a couple of plastic souvenir cups from cruises and football games, Howard the Duck on VHS, a milk crate full of dog-eared books, outdoor toys with the stickers washed off—and ours was no exception.

We held ours for both days of the weekend, and of course by ten o'clock Saturday morning all the good stuff was sold. Saturday afternoon, when business started to taper off, we were discussing how much cruddy glassware we could stuff in the recycle bin, when a large pickup truck stopped across the street.

Out jumped a blonde man with ice blue eyes who began nosing around in our stuff, muttering to himself and occasionally to us about what treasures he was trying to find. He discovered the pile of vinyl and asked if we had any rock-and-roll records. We didn't. Without so much as a pause, he began singing "walking with a dead man over my shoulder," and asked if I knew what song that was.

"Oingo Boingo," I said, "Dead Man's Party."

After a few declarations as to how awesome I was because no one else knew what he was talking about, he paid his quarter for whatever he picked up and drove off.

Well, imagine our surprise when the same man with the same truck showed up on Sunday afternoon, this time heeing and hawing as he jumped out of the cab.

"I got a kid in the back of my truck," he laughed.

It was a life-sized rag doll, you see, and he'd propped it up in a used car seat he put in the bed of his pickup. He'd stopped at a few other yard sales and gotten a child's parka and some gloves and a pair of sneakers. He started going through our baby clothes, this time looking for pants.

While he was rooting through the box, he kept laughing about how he had people yelling from cars that he left his son in the back of the truck. Then he ran across the street, grabbed the doll and shook it so that we could all see how funny it was. He brought the doll back and held the pants up to see if they would fit, ultimately deciding on a pair of khakis for a quarter.

Another car had pulled up, so he repeated the entire story of how he'd been scaring people all over the state with this fake kid, embellishing the story even further. He buckled the doll into its car seat, shouting back to us that he wanted his kid to be safe. Then he drove off.

After we debated whether we should call the police, we all tried to forget him and concentrated on getting rid of as much stuff as we could. We packed up a good amount to donate to Goodwill, and the rest we left on the corner for the garbage men.

I think next time we're going to do exactly the same thing, except after we take it out of the basement, we'll just pile it up at the end of the driveway. It's probably safer that way.

Mono-a-Mono

2009-10-10T16:52:00.004-04:00

Perhaps I should start by saying that last Tuesday I was diagnosed with mononucleosis.

Again.

For the fourth time in my adult life, I've got mono. That's the only thing I have in common with a teenager, except the occasional zit. And we all know how attractive those are.

Anyway, so I have mono, which is characterized by periods of extreme fatigue interspersed between periods of unconsciousness. Remember that week you decided to quit drinking coffee and for some reason you stayed up really late on Monday night so on Tuesday you found that not only do you like coffee, you actually NEED coffee? Do you remember how tired you were? Yes, but not much after that because you were in a haze until you snuck out of work to hit the Dunkin' Donuts and restored power to your warp core. Okay, imagine that except there's no coffee in the world that will wake your ass up. Now multiply that over the course of an entire week.

That's mono.

I've slept so much this week that I'm tired of sleeping. I'm sick of being horizontal, but I don't have the energy to be vertical. The best I can manage is a slight incline.

My jaws hurt and my throat is swollen and all my joints are sore. And I'm bored, bored, BORED. But I don't have the concentration to do anything like clean or draw or even read.

That pretty much narrows down my activities to blogging. Thank goodness that doesn't involve too much brain power.

CLASSIC Random Thoughts

2009-10-09T21:01:00.004-04:00

Here’s a little advice: If you have three cats, make sure there’s enough food for them before you go to bed. Otherwise you’re up at 4:10 thinking up stupid lists on Facebook.

One of the strongest arguments against the “intelligent design” concept is the rapid growth rate of nose hair.

If anyone needs an essay topic, consider the following: The show Family Ties started out as a vehicle for Meredith Baxter Birney, but within minutes it was all about Michael J Fox. That happened to Charlie Brown and Snoopy, too, but instead of launching a wildly successful movie career, Snoopy got a lucrative deal as the MetLife spokesdog.

I might be the only one who does this, but for some reason my mind connects certain colors with certain letters of the alphabet. For example, whenever I picture the letter R in my head, it’s always purple. I blame those little magnetic letters we used to play with as children.

Okay, I get it. They make yogurt that helps you go potty. Great. NOW PLEASE STOP THE ADS. I'm not a woman but I am pretty sure women don't form groups and talk about irregularity in grocery stores.

I picked up a copy of Burne Hogarth’s book, Dynamic Figure Drawing. I was blown away. I actually went on Amazon and got three more of them (gently used at substantial discount). It doesn’t matter how well you draw, you’ll find something new to learn from his books.

A couple of months ago I got a replacement head for my weed-whacker. It has three nylon blades instead of that annoying spool of plastic cord that makes you smack it on the driveway half a dozen times before you say fuck this and flip it over and pull the string out a few more inches. Yeah. Damn thing doesn’t fit. So now I have the same annoying weed-whacker and an opened package I can’t return.

I had to go to Wal-Mart tonight for something. I didn't go because I had to be somewhere and I didn't want the refrigerated food to spoil in the car. Now that I have all the time in the world to go to Wal-Mart and get that food item, I cannot for the life of me remember what the hell I was supposed to buy. Bread? No. Milk? No. Eggs? No! This is infuriating.

I'm actually considering going back to school for a while. Not to take classes, but to clean the floors. There's probably a waiting list for those jobs, isn't there...

My cat has just gingerly stepped onto my desk to look at me. I took his picture, without moving from my chair, so you can get the full effect of him right up in my grill.

My new lamp came in the mail today. Yay! Package was absolutely soaked but the lamp was snug inside its box, under a layer of bubble wrap, nestled in the bunched kraft paper. Happy Earth Day, by the way...

Okay, men, show of hands: How many of you find that e-surance cartoon chick attractive?

If you have to write anything on a CD, the only thing I've found that works is a Zig Painty(tm) pen.

Earlier today I completed a "Pick Your 5" thing of my favorite colors on Facebook, and it occurred to me that not only do I not really have five favorite colors—I think I've only got one or two, really—I'd be hard-pressed to find five people I know who give a good damn what my five favorite colors are. I think we've crossed some sort of milestone.

I googled my friend Pete Mitchell today, and there are pictures people have taken with him like he's some sort of celebrity. Why was I googling him? So I could add him to my list of "Five Celebrities I've Met," of course. I'm such a dork.

Hey, gang, if there's something you need at the store, let me know. It might jog my memory so I can remember what I had to get. Until then, vaya con dios muchachos.

And now a few minutes with Andy Rooney (if he were cooler)

2009-10-09T20:36:00.006-04:00

A lot of people call some men douche bags. I've even been called a douche bag. That got me wondering, "what is a douche bag?"

I called the Reference Desk of the New York Public Library today and asked the librarian what a douche bag was. She hung up on me. I called back, but the line was busy. So I got on the internet.

After looking at a few pictures of David Hasselhoff and Eminem, I decided that the internet wasn't the right place to go. To hell with the internet. If you're not looking for the latest upskirt shot of the latest starlet's shaved snatch, you're not going to find it right away on the internet.

So I sat down with a few sheets of paper and my old Underwood and I typed up a few thoughts on what I think a douche bag is. There are two kinds of douche bags. First, there are the famous ones. You know who they are: rich and successful, and usually banging some hot chick, but still they can't get past the adolescent hormonally charged rants against the media. Sean Penn comes to mind. A lot of sports figures are douche bags. I think T.O. is a douche bag. I don't think too many people would disagree.

There's really not much more to say about the famous ones. They're douche bags, but you can throw away the magazine, or change the channel, and they're out of your line of sight.

The other kind of douche bag, however, is in your face. He's the local douche bag. Sometimes he's someone you work with. I've worked with a lot of people over the last seventy years, and no matter what slice of my career you look at, I've always had at least one douche bag to contend with.

You probably work with a douche bag, too. He probably gets away with murder. I'll bet the boss loves him, and he'll probably get promoted ahead of you. Maybe it's the way he dresses. Douche bags always dress a certain way, don't they. At one point you could tell a douche bag by his black pleated pants with that little white tag on the fly. I never got close enough to read one of those tags, but I'll bet it said "look at my package." I don't want my eyes drawn towards another man's crotch. Only a douche bag would make you look there.

Nowadays the office douche bag will grease his hair up into a stupid hairstyle called a "faux-hawk" and walk around with some sort of bluetooth device on his ear, like he's important. You just know he's got a collection of muscle shirts that he wears to the gym. For some reason, a lot of douche bags take great pride in their muscular fitness. Maybe it's more than pride. Maybe it's an obsession. Maybe it's over-compensation.

Some douche bags drive nice cars, but mostly they drive an almost-nice car. An almost-nice car is some sort of tricked out rice-burner with a spoiler and ground effects... and a crumpled fender from where he backed into that pole when the mall cop made him move from the fire lane. He's still got an Oakley sticker in his window. This is the kind of guy who used to drive an IROC.

Sometimes douche bags aren't in good shape at all. They might be a fat slob, the kind of fat slob who drops a few hundreds at the strip club for a private room. Then he wants to smell her shoes while she gets hit with flop sweat.

Maybe the fat guy isn't a douche bag. Maybe he's just an asshole.

tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick....

Welcome to my New Blog!

2009-10-09T20:14:00.005-04:00

Isn't that how everyone starts a new blog?

Anyhoo, welcome to The Daily Ed!

I'm going to post my usual witty commentary and lists of random thoughts here, instead of on my Facebook profile. I like Facebook—I really do, it's been a lot of fun—but putting them here will make them more widely available.

I'd like to thank all my friends and family for the support they have shown for the ditties I'd been posting on that other site. I'd especially like to thank my wife, Chris, for allowing me the time to do this between taking pictures of her latest bead-jewelry creations (she's like a beading fiend, let me tell you). I also want to specially acknowledge Karley for publicly begging me to create a blog on my FB page.

If you like what I have to say, please share the link with your friends: http://thedailyed.blogspot.com/ .

Okay.

Now for a programming note.

I have a whole hoard of notes on my Facebook profile. I will be putting some of them here at first, to bulk up the content a little bit. If you are a new reader, you'll enjoy them. If you've been on board for the last year, consider it a "Best of Ed" series.

Don't worry! I'll put all my new content here, and I will update this often (not necessarily daily).

Please share your opinions. I will read all comments (trust me, they're not getting posted unless I do) so be honest. I appreciate the feedback.

Thanks again for your support. The goal is that you enjoy yourself!