The Grandfather of Rock-n-Roll has died, but what a legacy he left.
As an avid, devoted reader of liner notes, I had apparently long since forgotten that (You Never Can Tell) C'est la Vie from Emmylou Harris' Luxury Liner LP was a Chuck Berry tune.
On my day off this week, I went to Cabela's. On leaving, I was about to open my vehicle door when I noticed a hornet under the door handle. Being a stud macho kinda dude, I was unfazed and simply took my key and brushed it away from the door handle. It flew away from me, and I got in the SUV without incident.
I think even before the Presidential inauguration I wrote that we were in for a bumpy ride, and that has sort of been the case, although some of the crazy has subsided. Still, there's the ongoing saga of the travel hiatus. What's curious and puzzling to me is that we've seemingly arrived at the point where a relatively obscure appointed Federal district judge wields equal power to the elected Chief Executive.
If nothing else, this administration's term should be a bonanza for political science departments and political junkies, as it explores the disruption of the status quo and possibly long-observed conventions that may or may not have been Constitutionally based.
My personal view is that the judge's order will fail. Having listened to some qualified legal minds, it appears that the jurist is extrapolating far beyond the scope of the EO to find a basis for stopping it.
There was a documentary on PBS last night about the composing duo of Burt Bacharach and Hal David. Of course, their careers were intertwined with Dionne Warwick's, who came to their attention as a backup singer when the Drifter's recorded the duo's Mexican Divorce. Having owned Nicolette Larson's eponymous debut album with that song on it (also featuring her Neil Young penned hit single Lotta Love) since it was released, I had no idea - or had once again long forgotton - that the song was Bacharach & David's.
From the bullet points on #2 & #7, one might think I was getting old. Nah...
For a brief time in the mid '80s, I was a fan of (not-quite-yet Mrs. Bacharach) Carole Bayer Sager's Sometimes Late at Night, mostly penned with her future (and now ex-) husband. The album was kind of interesting as every song segued into the next, without a pause between songs.
Note to self: Referencing the '80s probably not helping with the aging thing, yo.
Choking me stop you.
Coming home from Cabela's, I saw that one of my favorite resale shops had "All clothing $1". I figured it'd be pretty well picked-over, but stopped in anyway. A half hour later I left with a Tactical 5.11 heavyweight canvas shirt, a desert camo BDU shirt, an Orvis fishing shirt, Austin (Academy) short sleeve outdoorsman shirt, black mock turtleneck, and a goose down jacket - all for $6. All the items were virtually indistinguishable from brand new.
Even though as conservatives, we may think we're in the process of righting the ship, there's still plenty of mush-headed thinking going on out there. Just waiting for them to subpoena Dr. Zaius.
This past week I received perhaps the most surprising text ever, for me at least.
My dream woman did not favor me last night, but I had an interesting dream sequence in which I was riding in a pack of mountain bikes. While riding is one of my regular activities, I can't recall having ridden in a group of bikers.
Good use of old street signs...at least temporarily.
I’m supposed to respect my elders, but it’s getting harder and harder for me to find one now.
Despite the melatonin tablet, the woman who has been appearing in my dreams recently had only a cameo appearance last night. Sigh.
I was at two dollar stores today, and in both cases forgot to buy a flyswatter.
Driving past an EECU branch tonight, I noticed that they still (Thursday), had not changed their time and temperature sign to reflect DST. That would not have happened on my watch.
An independent filmmaker has debuted his supposed documentary at SXSW, positing that the guy whose death in Ferguson, MO, precipitated the BLM movement, did not actually rob the convenience store, but was/had just engaged in some friendly weed bargaining. This would be considerably less idiotic if: 1) It were true; 2) The full convenience store surveillance sequence - about four minutes, not just thirty seconds - was used for the premise; 3) One ignores that the store did report a robbery. In any event, the proximate cause - OK, the only cause - of the miscreant's demise, was that he reached into the police cruiser's window to try to snatch the officer's weapon. That sort of thing is generally considered a poor choice.
Of course, there is a not inconsiderable portion of the population that will embrace the fiction, as well as many who will use it to try to foment racial unrest.
A TV commercial offers NightView glasses for night driving. Best I can tell, it's the same concept that 20 years ago was marketed as BluBlocker.
I got up early today to go to traffic court, making a mental checklist of nearly a half-dozen school zones on the way. About a half mile from my house, I realized it was Spring Break. I got to court with a half hour to spare. I also had made arrangements to come into work late, but ended up arriving a few minutes earlier than I normally do, even after grabbing a McD breakfast burrito.
Speaking of McDs, my very first experience at the arches was at an old style location on the west side of Tulsa in the late '60s or very early '70s. I can remember when they built one on Story Road in Irving in the early '70s. When I was in college, McD was in my after-class rotation, along with BK, Taco Bell and Bueno, and Whataburger, resulting in my peak avoirdupois of about 215 imperial pounds.
Somewhat like Wal-Mart, I think McDonald's to a degree fell victim to its own success. Although some of the criticism leveled at the fast food chain is arguably deserved, my impression is that they have made strides in adapting their menu to changing nutritional sensitivities, as well as upgrading their image beyond the clown theme to the point where you could almost feel comfortable having a casual business meeting there. Well, sort of.
About 7 years ago, I got serious about shedding some excess poundage, and went from about a 208 average, to the lower-mid 190s. For the past three or so years, I've been in a fairly consistent 175-177 range, which is commensurate with my height and bone structure. I'm no Jack LaLane, but I don't have any regular aches and pains.
One of the lines from last weekend's sermon that's been marinating in my mind this week is: "Comfort, pleasure, power, control, and respect are not inherently evil, unless employed or enjoyed with the wrong motive."
On a street in Colleyville, I passed many new McMansions scattered among older ranch-style homes. Almost all of the new builds had small ponds or water features, averaging about 20'x40' in the front yard. I guess if they have fish in the ponds, they won't become mosquito incubators, right?
The latest Russian relationship seeker to troll my email inbox bills herself as "Irina Honest", 29 years old. Honey, to quote Donald Hugh, "You're looking for a younger man - not me."
The ladies at work seemed to think my dream quote to the mystery woman about never stopping having conversation was sort of romantical. Maybe she'll grace my dreams again tonight.
The Donald's words of wisdom for today: "At the end of the day...it's midnight."
There is a guy at my work who is about 6' 5" with a full beard. So, of course, I good-naturedly refer to him as Bigfoot, Sasquatch, Paul Bunyan, and Chewbacca. He seems to be cool with it.
The state Senate today approved a 'bathroom bill'. I have to admit I haven't gotten too caught up in this issue, but, knowing that it was some kind of a thing, I did a double take at the dentist's office a couple of weeks back. The new patient form had a line that read "What do you prefer to be called _______ Male ___ Female ___". After first thinking, YGBKM!, I realized the first underline was for a nickname.
There is a horsefly the size of a DeHavilland Beaver on the mini-blind above my computer monitor, and I do not have a flyswatter handy.
I sometimes take a melatonin/vitamin B, or melatonin/valerian tablet before bedtime. Recently I had a really odd dream where I had a Unimog truck, and the storyline also involved a woman I know, but I don't recall the details on that thread. Then, a couple of nights ago, most of my family (kids, parents, ex-parents-in-law) were aboard - but not airborne - what must have been a jumbo jet (747 or A380) that was configured like a hotel lobby. There were lots of Asians. The family did not know I was not going on the trip (and I don't know where the trip was going). A woman I know (same one as in the other dream) approached to pull me aside, asking, "can I have a conversation with you?" I replied, sort of Casablanca-like, "Never stop having conversations with me."
I could sorta relate one of the dream's elements to some communication I'd received the prior day, but the rest was a mystery to me.
An attorney blogger always makes a fuss whenever there's a murder case without the body having been found. While I understand the premise, here's something he should keep in mind, should he ever do such a case (I don't think he actually does murder cases).
At a courtroom in Oklahoma a man is on trial for murder.There is strong
evidence indicating guilt; however, there is no corpse. In the defense's
closing statement the lawyer, knowing that his client is guilty
and that it
looks like he'll probably be convicted, resorts to a clever trick.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I have a surprise for you all," the
lawyer says as he looks at his watch. "Within one minute, the person
presumed dead in this case will walk into this court room,"
he says, and he
looks toward the courtroom door.
The jury, somewhat stunned, all look on eagerly. A minute passes. Nothing
happens. Finally the lawyer says: "Actually, I made up the previous
statement. But you all looked on with anticipation.
I, therefore, put it to
you that there is reasonable doubt in this case as to whether
killed, and insist that you return a verdict of not guilty."
The jury, clearly confused, retires to deliberate. Within only a few minutes
later, the jury returns
and a representative pronounces a verdict of
"But how?" inquires the lawyer. "You must have had some doubt; I saw all of
you stare at the door."
Answers the representative: "Oh, we did look. But your client didn't."
Awhile back, some grain/pantry moths hitchhiked their way into my kitchen in some dry dog food or bulk seeds. I've been having a devil of a time trying to eradicate them. Finally I ordered some tacky strips with bug attractant from the big orange home center. I opened one last night and placed the lure as directed. Within just a couple of minutes, it looked like Woodstock hippies flocking to a free LSD kiosk. I've also been throwing out any flour-based mixes in the pantry, which I disposed of in the hundred acre woods when I took my bike ride.
Silly youngsters at my work (not the carwash) did not know this song, so I was teaching it to them yesterday:
The thought occurred to me this morning: I wonder if [Dallas residents] Don Henley and GWB - who only live about a mile apart - ever run into each other at the grocery store or restaurants?
I also wonder if that woman (from bullet item #4) will be in my dreams tonight.
I've got a boatload of notes for a full-length blog post, but my muse seems to be on holiday.
It's no secret or surprise that I enjoy curating memories of the 20th century. Specifically, I have as of late, been watching several TV reruns.
On the weekends, The Magnificent Seven television series - which ran about two seasons (22 episodes), has aged well. It probably doesn't hurt that I enjoy the Western genre. The Young Riders, running three seasons in the early '90s, is also decent, although I haven't watched as many episodes.
All In the Family still scores well on my list, as well as Carroll O'Connor's later work on In the Heat of the Night. I enjoy an occasional episode of Sanford and Son, but am less enthusiastic about The Jeffersons. I don't remember having much of an opinion about Maude back in the day, but I absolutely loathe that show now. I will sometimes watch both episodes of Wings when it follows Carson.
Now in its second year of syndicated reruns, The Tonight Show (only the Carson-hosted episodes, from the mid-'70s to the show's end) is still a fun watch, even if some of the initial novelty has worn off. Most evenings I'll try to catch the monologue, as kind of a time capsule of where the culture was at that time, and continue watching if there are some interesting guests.
Last week I saw Leno's first stand up routine on Tonight, which aired March 2, 1977. Interesting to note that just 10 years later, he began guest hosting, and five years after that had it for his own.
This past week, the classic episode with Robin Williams and Jonathan Winters was on again, and last night Billy Crystal, air date uncertain, showed just how uptight our culture has become. In his segment, he was wearing a shirt with an Indian head on it, and he did some schtick about a Texas TV wrestling announcer who called out a Mexican contender with references about stealing his TV, then later imitated midgets running in the circus. Of course, this wasn't done for shock value, it was just funny, but what struck me is that if he were to do the same performance today, 95% of Hollywood would demand his head on a platter.
Took my daughter to the carnival last night. We rode some kind of superman ride, flying through the air face down,
the Alien Abduction centrifuge ride, aerial chair swings, and the Ferris
wheel. Each time we go, I'm reminded of how blessed I am - yes, she's a teenager now, but as long as she enjoys hanging out and riding the rides with Dad, I'm going to savor it for all it's worth.
I felt kinda like Aykroyd and Chase in Spies Like Us...
No political commentary today. I'll resume solving the world's problems...next week.