Wazzap!

• It seems a Temple University professor is having a seminar at Dartmouth entitled: "What's Up With White People?"  From what I gather, the sociologist will explain the various groups and motivations of the Caucasians, and for those confused in their whiteness, help them understand into which modality they fit. I wonder if the circus blogger has bought his ticket.

•  Here they are:

 

Martin know what up.

 

Yeah, don't forget Bobby.

• When I was in college, Mr. Mull - or Doc Martin, as we called him - published a series of research papers entitled: The History of White People in America, and A Paler Shade of White. Both treatises were considered groundbreaking, inasmuch as prior to that time, we white folks had led pretty much humdrum existences, driving our Buicks, wearing Sans-a-Belt slacks, eating Wonder Bread sammiches with Miracle Whip (prepared by our wimmin, of course), and singing from the Presbyterian Hymnal.

 Martin Mull gave us cultural identity.

• No longer did the melanin challenged among us have to mope and hang our heads in shame as new, exotic cultures were treated as cause célèbres simply because of the presumptive hegemony of the Caucasian race. Thanks to Martin, we once again had purpose - and history - filled lives.
• Now that Charlie Manson has died, you know there's gotta be a ton of lawyers in Hades petitioning ol' Lucifer that the neighborhood is going down the drain. I'm guessing their briefs argue something along the lines of: "Yeah, we know it's supposed to be bad here, but having Manson for a neighbor is cruel and unusual." Heck, having Charlie as a house-guest, el Diablo himself might convert.
• Of course, Hell's hoi polloi probably feel the same about all the lawyers down there. I think I read somewhere that the incidence of barristers in Beelzebub's domain was beyond insane. But I could be wrong.
• Sometimes at work, the TV in the break room is airing The Rifleman, one of my all-time favorite shows. During the last week or so, I noticed a couple of episodes, featuring Sammy Davis Jr., and a very young Dennis Hopper.

 New Sheriff in town?

•  Before he turns the lights out at night, Chuck Norris checks for Chuck Connors under the bed.
• While I am generally pleased to see some introspection regarding our cultural mores, as manifested in the Weinstein case, et al, I can see some of this getting silly. The same entertainment outlets breathlessly reporting each new allegation against some Hollyweird pervert were just weeks ago celebrating the legacy of Hugh Hefner. Inconsistency much?
• I thought the situation with the comedian Louis C.K. was a bit odd. I'm neither a fan nor detractor. I have seen some of his routines and found them amusing. I thought it refreshing that he didn't waste any time in owning up to his misbehavior/mzbehaviour. Alleged to have, uh, given private solo performances with as many as a half-dozen [individual] women, it did kinda make me wonder, how exactly would you make that segue? Say, did I ever show you my vacation slides, or my...? I know this might sound awkward, but would you like to see me...?  Weird.
• Weird, as in Weird Al? Some, even in his own party, are demanding that Sen. Stuart Smalley Al Franken  resign, after evidence surfaced that he had groped a actress/model/Playboy chick while on a USO tour a few years prior to his election. I'm no fan of the senator - can't stand him. Every time I see him on the dais in a Senate hearing, I see Stuart Smalley. But, if that's who Minnesotans want representing them, well, whatever. Franken's boorish and highly inappropriate behavior occurred (as far as we know) before his Senate election. He is not accused of rape, just groping and unwanted French kissing. I subscribe to 'no means no', and I don't believe that the woman in question should've be subjected to his actions (even if she was willing to strip for the magazine) without her consent. She had/has every right to slap the snot out of him or kick him in the 'nads for his transgressions. But, I don't think it's something he is required to resign over (I would take glee in seeing him defeated in the polls, however).
• This is way premature. I haven't even formed an exploratory committee, nor given thought to running for public office (I don't think the next dog catcher term expires for another three years).  Nonetheless, I want to fully disclose that, in 1977, with a home-recorded cassette of Hotel California playing on the stereo of my large American sedan, at the Century 4 Drive-In Theater, I accidentally-on-purpose elbow grazed the pink-sweatered bewb¹ of a young lady before the main feature. I fully realize that my actions were wrong, and submit for your consideration that I did not, in baseball terms, score so much as a base hit.
• I feel so liberated now.
• Saturday morning before leaving the house, I had a couple slices of toast. After downing the second, I realized a molar crown was missing, much to my dismay.  30 hours later, said porcelain enameled platinum crown was, alas, recovered.  #Worst. Scavenger Hunt. Ever.

 ¹ Term coined circa 11/16/17, courtesy of Combat Kevin

But this is a pretty song

I just couldn't let Tommy post some WZ over on his blog without posting a Zevon song myself:



I'm aware of a couple of Warren's versions, one of which is pretty good - the other not so much, and then I came across this one by Mr. Browne. Still, with  respect to the late Mr. Zevon and to Jackson, the definitive version is, of course, Lovely Linda's with Henley singing harmony. Disclaimer: Linda's HDtW album has been a favorite of mine for 40 years.

Requiescat in Pace¹

Sometimes you figuratively have to bury things.



This is a very good recording, the band is excellent, and Reginald's voice is not too bad.  From the era of high-energy rock and roll, not the sappy Disney ballad crap that marked his later career.  I was fortunate to see EJ a couple of times at Reunion, and once at Texas Stadium.  As neither of those venues remains today, I'm starting to think I'm getting old...


¹ I think I've used that Latin previously - I guess I'm using it again.

How about a Lil' Kim?

The warhead will splatter cheez-whiz everywhere!  It'll be epic!

Just something small, to keep my junk warm at night... 

So, you're saying it volumizes as it conditions? 

The Last in Love

A hauntingly beautiful Frey/Souther song performed by the lovely late Nicolette Larson:



Although the song is on J.D.'s You're Only Lonely, he inscribed the cover of this LP last Friday at the Kessler.

Souther, who was born in Detroit, but raised in Amarillo, formed a duo called Longbranch Pennywhistle in the late '60s/early '70s with fellow Detroit native Glenn Frey.  Although J.D. wasn't in the Eagles, he collaborated on many of the band's best known songs.

He noted last Friday that he'd received a text from Don Henley earlier in the afternoon that it was cold and wet in Detroit (Eagles were playing there).  J.D. texted back that it was six degrees colder in Dallas.

I ain't no smart man, but...

 

Thank You Desert Pete

Today I hear people telling of t-shirts saying "I survived the gas crisis of Thursday".  Nonetheless, some stations are still devoid of the flammable liquid.  A guy told me his GF's car was on fumes and the nearby Exxon was dry - could he run Tru-Fuel 4-cycle to get to another station.  I advised him it was an expensive work around, but that yeah, they could do it.

On my way home, I saw another Exxon that had regular unleaded at $2.59.  With my needle just making it to 1/4 tank, but not much travel planned over the next few days, I stopped in and added 2-3 gallons, and thought of this song:

There's a better recording of this song, but I didn't locate it on the u-tubes.

If you're not familiar with old water pumps, the parable may not make much sense. In the olden days, the sucker rod of a pump used a leather washer to create suction to draw the water up from the ground.  After a period of dis-use, the washer would dry out and wouldn't create a seal - hence no water would flow.  In the parable, a parched traveler happens upon a pump in the desert.  An old timer - Desert Pete - has left a bitters jar (think vanilla extract or other flavoring bottle) of water with which to wet the leather, under a rock.  The traveler must decide whether to drink the water - taking the small, but immediate gratification - or have faith and use the tiny bit of liquid to 'prime the pump' and loose all the water he can use.  The lesson is two-fold, having faith, and paying it forward by leaving the bitters jar for the next traveler.

As I was readying for work this morning, a normally market-wise radio commentator was fielding calls about stations charging $4-5 per gallon for gas.  He was indignant about the "gouging".  Some caller said "I can understand 10-20¢ more during the shortage, but not those prices."  I really had thought the host had more market savvy than that.  (I also heard from one of the doctor assistants yesterday that a friend of hers reported a Boyd retailer charging $4/gallon.)

To be clear, I'm not condoning collusion by retailers to drive prices higher, which is anti-competitive.  But, if, in the face of a perceived outage of a commodity, a retailer over-reaches and sets prices 'too high', he/she may retard the depletion of the scarce goods, but risk alienation of buyers, and/or - in the case of a gas station/c-store, diminish sales of 'add-on' purchases (drinks/snacks/candy).  In my experience this afternoon, the station where I stopped ($2.59/gallon) had correctly judged the market, about 6 of its 8 pumps had customers, and presumably some of those customers went inside to buy other items. Down the road, I passed a QT that I have often frequented.  I don't know if they had or hadn't raised prices, only that there were no cars there, because they had no gas.  At the other end of the spectrum, I suspect that a retailer charging $5/gallon or so, in the age of social media, would immediately become a market pariah, selling only a minimal amount, and squandering future goodwill from customers.  The market works.

In the fractional reserve system of banking, there's a similar calculus at work.  The entire banking system is premised on the notion that everybody doesn't withdraw all funds at once.  If that were to occur, they system collapses, because the assets are illiquid, at least beyond the typical reserve requirements.  Nonetheless, within the envelope of prudent management, and intelligent customers, the system works.



Away from economics now, I caught part of Micki & Maude last night on the rerun channel.  The story, of course, is of Maude (Amy Irving) - a concert cellist - who gets caught up in a web of deceit with multiple baby-daddies.  No, wait, that's a different story.  Maude is impregnated by Rob (Dudley Moore) because his wife Micki (Ann Reinking) is reluctant to have children.  As fate has it, both become pregnant, and end up in the delivery ward at the same time, assuring that hilarity ensues.  I had forgotten that Wallace Shawn and André the Giant were in this movie (though not in the same scenes), which was filmed a couple of years before they appeared in The Princess Bride as Vizzini and Fezzik, respectively.

Who needs friends like this?

I have been enjoying articles about the Light Attack Experiment aircraft that are being developed or modified for a world in which F-22s or F-35s are just too much dog for the fight.  The F-16 was initially designed for this role, and still performs it well, but there are many countries and missions where even it is more aircraft than is needed.  I can see this airplane being useful on our southern, and even northern borders - in the event that Bob & Doug McKenzie try to sneak in without bringing the requisite complement of a few cases of Molson or Moosehead...