My Addled Brain

Now playing: N.E.R.D. - In Search Of…

I love turkey. Love it, love it, love it. Right off the bird, stacked on a sammich, shredded with BBQ, stacked on a plate with salt and pepper - I don’t care. I love turkey, which is why I will be a happy man later today. But as much as I like turkey, there’s something a little more important tomorrow.

Tomorrow, in addition to Thanksgiving, we will also be celebrating the 60th wedding anniversary of Grandma and Grandpa Buell. 60 years of marriage. Personally, I find this astounding.

My parents divorced when I was very young. I don’t recall any immediate childhood trauma associated with this - however, my recollection of my childhood is dodgy at best, so for all I know I balled my eyes out for weeks. Butfrom the little I recall of the time following the separation, I think it just came across as something that parents did, and it’s this outlook that colored my view of relationships for quite a while. Some parents get divorced, some stay together, and either way, that’s ok. I will say that I was very fortunate with how my parents dealt with the split. My father moved into a townhouse not five minutes from where we lived, and dutifully saw us on Wednesdays and alternate weekends. We’d stay in that little townhouse over weekends, and my brother and I had bunk beds that we could sleep in. Dad wasn’t the greatest cook in the world - hell, he still isn’t (but the man sure can smoke a turkey these days), so dinner was usually Swanson’s salsbury steak, or something else that came in a convienient tinfoil tray that kept the tater tots separated from the entree. Meanwhile, mom kept the big house, with it’s gigantic vaulted ceiling over the living room, and the Pinto, and worked hard for herself and us. I remember sliding down the stairs, visiting Grandma Rose in her downstairs bedroom on days when she was feeling up to it - she was bedridden with emphazema, and playing on the swingset in our backyard.

Only now, can I really appreciate the hard work that both of them must have done for my brother and myself during that time. I don’t recall fights or raised voices, and I certainly don’t recall one parent using us to get at the other one. I’m certain this had a lot to do with the nature of their parting, which was a mutual understanding - they were no longer in love, and had become different people. They put their children first.

And that’s what I have to be thankful for this year. That I was graced with two parents that both saw to my personal well being, and handled an adult thing like adults should, instead of allowing feelings to get hurt, or wanting to hurt the other for some perceived wrong done to them. I don’t know if they got the oldest son they wanted, but I sure as hell got the two best parents I could have.

I love you both, very, very much.

Well, that certainly wasn’t why I started this post. Funny where a train of thought can get you.

Hai-ku! Friday After Next

Day-Day’s funny, but
I still miss Smokey. So good,
you’ll slap your momma!

Now Playing: Zero 7 - Simple Things

Eleven days? That’s MUCH more like it.

Went to Gator Growl last weekend, with Andy and Erky. It was a good time, Harlan Williams was hilarious, and the Cos was…a bit befuddled. I think he rambled for about half an hour before he found his train of thought. And after hearing “Himself” as a kid, which was on HBO every day back when the only original programming they had was “Not Necessarily The News”, I was shocked and aghast to hear him utter the s-word. (”I’ll take swords for 400!”) The fireworks at the end of the show really have only one word to describe them: “Ridiculous”.

Ran into a few people I wasn’t expecting - namely Jamie, Ubergeek, and the David Copperfield/Claudia Schiffer-esque duo of Dawn and Clayton. Afterwards, we all went to dinner, then immediately felt our age and crashed.

Christmas is approaching. I know this because the Chick-Fil-A by my house has already erected their yearly Times Square-esque (can I use -esque twice in the same post?) Christmas lights display, one that both little children and power meter readers can look at in awe and wonder. With that in mind, allow me to introduce you to my new favorite online store: BowlingShirt.com. This place absolutely screams fashion. I like most of them, so feel free to get whatever grabs your fancy. Except this one. I already bought it.

Whatever you decide to get for me tho, just be sure to be tasteful.

Finally - you thought I kept a strange blog? I ain’t got nothin’ on Boonana McDamn. Too bad the niggaz don’t like boo. E I!

So I saw this the other day. I found it amusing, at first. Then I found this and this. (It should be noted, at this point, that these are numbers 4 and 5. Which means they’ve BEEN making these.) So, is the point of the lawsuit that Barbie’s this kind of girl and not this kind of girl? Because if not, the whole thing seems kind of silly to me - and not to mention undermines the whole Barbie-as-female-empowerment thing.

People with comments wondering how I found all this stuff, feel free to knock yourselves out. The first one is obvious, but the others I found somewhere else. I think it was one of the Barbie sites I go to all the time, but I don’t completely remember, as I have been doped up on Sudafed recently, and my short term memory is shot because of it. Or did I take the tabs of acid? I’m so confused.

Haiku! The Sum of All Fears:

Thank god for cell phones
That work after a big nuke.
Let’s all hate Nazis!

Now Playing: Allison Krauss + Union Station - Live

Riding the roller coaster that is this website these days, I bring you the following news.

Keeping up with the Joneseseses - stopped by the home of David and Dori last night to visit, and finally meet Emma Grace. She’s absolutely beautiful - a bright, attentive, funny young girl with a friendly disposition, wonder in her eyes, and a shoelace fetish. To look at her, you wouldn’t even begin to suspect that she has had health problems. Unfortunately, no one has been able to pin down exactly what has been causing her issues, so until a diagnosis decided upon, all we can do is enjoy her presence with us, and bask in her smile. David and Dori are doing well - hell, David’s lost 50 pounds and is back in Tae Kwon Do, which is more than I can say for myself.

I was listening to Romie yesterday, and heard this really wonderful story about Jake Porter, a mentally handicapped senior in high school, his coach, the opposing team’s coach, and a spectacular touchdown. I could tell you the whole story, but I think the link does a much better job. It’s those kind of stories that can restore a person’s faith in humanity.

Had my last test yesterday - an echocardiogram. This one also involved me not moving - but at least this time I could watch a fuzzy representation of my heart beating in real time. It’s pretty cool, actually, and thirty minutes later I was walking out the door. My results are back - clean bill of health. So, for the last time:

I am fine.

Robby seems a bit perturbed by this. Well, considering he’s a giant robot, hell bent on dominating the planet, yet he can’t open a door by himself, you’d be right in thinking he’s perturbed in general, but this seems to have him in even more of a foul mood.

* Bah! You hu-mans are all the same. You get a robot’s hopes up, then proceed to dash them against the rocks. *

Hopes? What, you were hoping I was going to die?

* Of course not! I was just going to wait for you to pass out again so I could take some compromising photos of you and use them to blackmail a new and bigger Secret Evil Robot Lair out of you. *

New? Bigger? You think my closet qualifies as some sort of secret lair? Ha! Who are you, Dr. Evil? You gonna hit me for One Meeelion Dollars?

* I wish. You’d have to actually have some money to do that, however. I was actually just going to use it to get you to drive me to a nearby storage place - I could set up there, and the rent is cheap! *

Evil and thrifty. Look out Torgo!

Now Playing: The dull, monotone ring in my ears from the Andrew W.K. show. Yes, still.

To tell you that I am a bit perplexed about the conscience of the American voting public is kind of like saying number theory is a touch harder than algebra. Well, perhaps not the American voting public, but certainly the Florida voting public, hanging chads nonwithstanding. (Side note - that is the first, last, and only time you will ever see the term “hanging chad” on this website. That dog needs to die, and stay dead.) How you can vote for a Republican Governor(!) and also vote in not one, not two, but three rather Democratic oriented state constitutional amendments - fixed class sizes, free pre-K (voluntary), and a ban on smoking in indoor workplaces (read: restaurants) - just perplexes me.

I suppose I understand why the smoking one went through - after all, you’re either a smoker or you’re not, and if you’re not, you probably don’t want to deal with the secondhand. And it’s not a total surprise the Pre-K went through, as there was absolutely no opposition to it whatsoever. But then there’s the fixed class size amendment - a lightning rod issue for both candidates. Platforms were built around this amendment - well, they were if you could find them amidst the rather disgusting negative campaign ads that were bandied about television and radio for the past month. But there it is - your re-elected governor (!), having to deal with an amendment he doesn’t like. Be careful what you wish for…

To be honest, I just find all that kind of amusing. Jeb (!) isn’t a bad guy - he certainly seems more honest than his opposition, who can’t answer a simple question regarding layoffs at his law firm - and has done what he has thought best for the state - and should continue to do well. Sure, I disagree with some of the decisions he’s made, especially when it comes to education. What I disagree with is the fact that these three things - along with other amendments regarding tax exemptions for elder care, the welfare of pregnant pigs, and the governance of Miami-Dade county (?!?!) - are all amendments to our state constitution. These things have absolutely nothing to do with the basic rights of anyone. In fact, only one of the ten amendments to the state constitution - the verbage of a simple conjunction that could make the difference in how the death penalty is treated in this state - makes sense to me. So why did it come to amendments? Why not pass laws like we were taught way back on Schoolhouse Rock? Is this a sign that intrests are so entrenched in our political process that the only way the common person feels they can affect change is to get signatures and petition to put these amendments on the ballot? Or is it more from intrests doing everything they can to get the changes they want on the books?

I’m not quite sure. But I am sure I’m done with this topic - just as you were about three paragraphs ago. Sorry about that.

The concert was amazing. Only one set, as he was opening (?!?) for Flogging Molly, which Erky and I decided not to wait for. No pics, unfortunately, but I did get to help Andrew body surf the crowd at the end of his set. Erky’s impresson of him: “He’s the Supreme Allied Commander of Whitetrashistan.” Personally, I like to think of him as the Nascar driver of rock and roll. He’s loud from start to finish, he’s genuinely happy to be on stage - after all, he does what he likes, and he likes what he does - and loves his fans. He had hugs for everyone who made it on stage, and they were quite a lot of people. And then there was the following exchange:

Andrew: Let’s have three cheers for being alive! Hip-hip!
Crowd: HOORAY!
Andrew: HIP HIP!
Crowd: HOORAY!
Andrew: HIP HIP!
Crowd: HOORAY!

Keep in mind that the crowd was predominantly there to see a celtic punk group, so to get the absolutely raucous response that he did to that was unreal. Quite possibly the best concert I have ever been to, and definitely what I needed after last week’s ego trip to the dumpster. If you get the chance to see him, I highly suggest you take it. What a freaking show. I know I had mentioned pictures before, but cameras were forbidden inside, so I just kept the digital securely placed in my pocket until after the show. We hung out for a bit out back in the hopes of getting a chance to see him, but alas, luck was not with us.

Now Playing: Foo Fighters - One By One

Birthday weekend came and went with hardly a whimper. Dinner with MCG and the halfway there MKAW, who can feel Emily flipping out like a ninja, if ninjas were real. Which they aren’t.

Slept part of Saturday, waking up just in time to watch the Florida/Georgia game. Well, most of it - second quarter was starting as I came to. Nice job of the defense shutting down UGA on third down. Nice job of Grossman showing he’s not a total loser. Nice job of special teams not losing the game for us. I’m happy with this win; it won’t get us to a top bowl, but it will shut BulldogFan up for another year.

And then comes Sunday. Nice job, boys - now, if only the defense had shown up for the second half, we would have that elusive complete game.

Tonight, I shall attempt to shake my doldrums by rocking out to the smooth, mellow sounds of Andrew W.K. With any luck, I’ll have some pictures for your consumption tomorrow. Just like all those other pictures I haven’t posted yet…

The last thing I was really interested in today, of all days, was yet another reminder of my mortality.

I am by no means a rap or hip-hop kind of guy. I enjoy some of it, but mostly I leave that world to itself. I do like some of the classic stuff, before everything turned into the degenerate world of pimps, hos, and bling-bling. I didn’t shed a tear when Biggie Smalls got killed. Nor did I fall to my knees in abject misery when Tupac Shakur got capped. However, the news today has actually gotten to me - because Jam Master Jay is dead.

Now here’s a man who’s ability to spin and mix helped push the borders of the form, and made rap mainstream. Not to mention that Raising Hell is a personal favorite of mine.

And because I feel like dwelling on the subject today, my condolences to the Irish Stud and his wife, who had to put their dog Nicky to sleep last weekend. Nicky was quite possibly the sweetest dog I have ever met, and will be missed. Nicky is survived by their cat, Spooley, who has decided to shed in Nicky’s honor this week.

Currently no plans for the big 2-9, as the trip I had planned to Orlando with Flex, his woman, and various others got cancelled. That’s ok, I still have some friends.

Aren’t you glad I posted today? Me too.