Archive for July, 2008

Many hot things

Here’s something to avoid:

Coming home from work to a house that’s 83 degrees and having your unreasonably pampered, chunky dog look up at you, panting, as if to say, “Why are you torturing me like this, human? Our agreement is simply: you fill my bowl and water dish as well as walk me twice a day, and I provide you with some companionship and bark when people come to the door. Why is my sofa so hot and why were you not here to fix it??!!”

I now know quite a bit about A/C capacitors, how to tell how old a unit is, and why HVAC emergency services does not include trips out at 9 pm during a monsoon. I also am now able to recreate a law of physics my friend Annette used to lovingly refer to as “The Daytona Two-Door Rule” — so named after a trip to Daytona Beach where we created a wind-tunnel in our room by opening the hotel room door and the beach-front balcony door simultaneously. Box window fans and a stand-up oscillating fan are perfectly respectable replacements for beach wind and breezeways.

In any event, Stella is still chunky — just no longer hot.

In other news that is hot, check out this bit from last night’s So You Think You Can Dance — this choreographer is definitely on my list of ones to watch. So freakin’ sexy. I just tremble…I’m serious.

Here’s the song since the Youtube vid is fairly sketchy.

Also, because he’s a fount of cool stuff like this, Landers has shared this nifty little site with me. Muxtape — make a mixed tape like the kids do! (I haven’t made one yet but I’m building one in my head…)

UPDATE: this is just what i need, too…

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My sister had an interesting thing to say about the current lead-up to the Presidential election —

“There’s a feeling in the world right now about America and in America…people are uncertain. And when there’s uncertainty, people tend to go with what feels good. And he’s what feels good. Unfortunately, that emotional reaction is very often the wrooooong one to listen to.”

I’m gonna let you work out for yourselves who we were talking about.

I can’t help myself — I’m sorry! I really am…

In other interesting-probably-only-to-me-and-a-few-others type news, I had dinner last night with my high school friends, most of whom I haven’t seen in 15 + years, and ya know, looking around the table, I felt like we were 16 again in Christy’s basement (even though we were at a restaurant in suburban Atlanta). Strange when you know people well enough to know what will interest them and make them laugh but you’ve no idea what they’ve actually been doing for the past million years.

But I remembered one thing very clearly — I love these people. And I’ve known some of them, literally, since I was 6 years old. And that is, at its most profound deconstruction, a remarkable thing.

Looking forward to the next get-together people (and my apologies to Adrienne. My fat head is always in the way…)

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For the record, I sorta hate how political I can be. I don’t like being unpopular. But I just think it’s important to call bullshit when you see it. And so I do. But really, I respect your right to do the same so I hope we can still be friends.

In that light, I’m actively rallying against music snobs at present. Here’s the deal: music, like art, derives its worth to a person as a singularity. You either like something or you don’t. It either resonates with you or it doesn’t. No one can tell you that Kenny Loggins sucks if “Danger Zone”gives you chills and reaffirms your soul. So embrace what you like and own it. And the music snobs can embrace that they like to makes others feel inadequate. That is their right.

That said, have some Friday music (especially the Salt n Pepa for A-ron because he is tragically unfamiliar with this song).

Whatta Man Featuring En Vogue by Salt-n-Pepa

Five Years by David Bowie

Absolutely Cuckoo by Magnetic Fields

Dancing Nancies by Dave Matthews Band

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‘Bout to lose some more friends…

I found this article incredibly interesting, not just because it’s well-written, dispassionate and informed, but because it exactly illustrates why I can never vote for the man. Who the hell wants more U.N. and NATO? If they were at all functioning instead of being huge pits of graft, greed and nepotism, maybe. But I’m really not interested in joining the socialist union thank you very much. I’m sure George Orwell is rolling around in his grave as the ministry of love becomes a reality on earth.

Also, this dude who looked like he could’ve definitely hung out with a pre-superstar 50 Cent came up behind me in the convenience store and was singing “Love lift us up where we belong.” So awesome.

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I’m in a low spot today friends. It tends to happen midweek, especially when you realize that all your excitement for the coming weekend just ends in another Monday. The movie Groundhog Day is playing in my head right now…

If you have a tip on how to stave off the midweek bluesies I’d love to hear it. But I’m not going to provide an easy way for you to tell me. You’re gonna have to show you care by working at it a little. So there.

In an attempt to remember that there is such a thing as passion and humor in life, I give you this, duly ripped off from Agent Bedhead, who never disappoints. And, oh yeah, Christian Bale’s mom — yeah you. Not cool man. So not cool.

And I want to start watching this. I have a positive review from the Help Desk and they usually know what they’re talking about…

UPDATE: For John Turner and Gill. I feel like a watery tart just threw a sword at me.

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Okay, first off, I have been totally vindicated. I recently interviewed at a print newspaper and kinda rankled the editors that interviewed me by daring to suggest that the future of journalism may lay in the direction of electronic media (as someone who’s been working in the realm of computers for the last 5 years I see so many harbingers of this truth and, really, I was just trying to sell myself to these people as being somewhat ahead of the curve. It didn’t really work…). This article seems to prove my point a little. So maybe signing on with people who reticently refuse to acknowledge the future isn’t really something I want to be doing. Or maybe I’m just making myself feel better by being all “I told you so!” Either way, thtppppppt!

I have to give up my loaner car today and I’m really going to miss that XM radio. XM47 Ethel kicks. As I was traveling Saturday to Clayton, Ga. in beautiful Rabun County for a family reunion they played this song, this song and this song in a row. Nice.

As for the family reunion, I’ve included some pics. The land used to have the house my Pop and his siblings grew up in until it became too ramshackle to stand so Pops had it torn down. He left the fireplace and the apple barn, which are just kinda cool. It also has a pond we fished for catfish in, a pure, natural mountain stream running through it and the most amazing blueberry/blackberry patch in the state. All provided by my Paw Paw who I barely knew even though I knew him my whole life till I was about 25 when he passed away. My Pops said he doesn’t think anyone really knew him at all. But the stories of him leaving baskets of food for poorer families than his — which was hard to achieve — on front porches and riding back into town from World War II on the back of a mule only to be shot by the brother of some girl he’d been seeing before he left are too fantastic to do justice with my words. You’d have to hear my dad and his siblings tell it with far away looks to really feel the legend of the man. I try to collect the stories when I can and I’d better start writing them down before I get too damn old to remember them.

So first up, just by way of trying to tell myself to remember, is the story of Great Grandma Teague who was “a mean ol cuss of a woman.” My pops said she used to say to them as children, “I’ll get an old hickory and cut the blood out of ya.”

Pops has always said he grew up hard…

Enjoy these photos which include, but are not limited to, my cousin Justin and his kids, my cousin Van’s daughter Carmen in the blueberry patch, my nephew James in the blackberry patch, the awesome rope swing my Dad made that is very nearly addictive, and my Aunt Lanie (who I’m named after) and my niece Katie. Some of the best people I know.

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True love

I’m liking the satellite radio thing. I was just introduced to this song and I’m pleased.

Here’re a few things. First, I defy you to watch this video and not cry. I simply cannot do it, even with the cheesy Whitney Houston track. I’ve always wanted a pet lion…I mean they live in prides — how cool is that?

Also, Steph sent me this: http://www.drhorrible.com/

I haven’t watched it yet but I had heard of it and how I love me some Doogie Howser (even if he won’t love me back) and Joss Whedon, discoverer of David Boreanaz and I mean c’mon:

Also, my pear tree is prolific this year and Stella has grandma eyebrows. Just thought you’d like to know…

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Because the starter in my car has died again (the third time in 6 months which is just too much man) I’ve been driving one of these:

around town. It’s a pretty cool ride and I’m thinking trade in, but more on that later. In the meantime, it has satellite radio as a standard install and I heard a few comedy bits that had me laughing aloud. That Heyward allen knows how to sell a car…

Here they are for your enjoyment (language here so beware…)

and then this, in two parts.


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Does anyone else thinks it’s almost impossibly ridiculous that Angelina Jolie is negotiating the sale of pictures of her children for an obscene chunk of change and yet — and yet — in order to deal with our current economic situation we are about to drill in previously untapped oil reserves to force world market prices down? Don’t get me wrong — I agree with the move. I just think that when that kind of capitalism — the preening, voyeuristic kind — is more profitable and less restricted than the kind that actually provides literal momentum to the world we’ve got to start redefining our value system.

Just sayin’.

My claws are slightly out lately so I’d like to retroactively/preemptively apologize to anyone I may have/will scratched/scratch. I’d especially like to go on record and say that knowledge is a resource, not a skill. I was just grumpy.

Here’s to you Lou. (This one, too…) Go get some space, clear your head, get done what needs to get done and then give me a call. We can laugh about it then.

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Oh, Tony Snow, I’ll miss your smile…in a business full of smarmy double-talkers you always seemed to carry the shield of truthfulness and the world seems less brightly lit to me today…Rest well.

Michelle Malkin, who knew him, does him justice.

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