Self Doubt (Halloween Style)

Decrypting Life's Mysteries

It escaped my attention that Soupy Sales passed away.  As far as comedians go, Soupy Sales is who I am most trying to emulate. This is a strange statement to make given my age, and perhaps deserves more consideration.  Not for Sales, but for the person who is really fascinating: me!

I discovered that Sales died when I read an article in the NY Times that a new Yankees tradition is now to get a pie in the face when the Yankees win a home game on the last AB. If you are wondering who Soupy Sales is, click on the link, which is his Wikipedia article. And also: boo on you.

Anyhow, our own forgotten past and the effect it has had on our attitudes is one of life's mysteries to decrypt.  This blog has helped me solve one of them.  Why am I so fond of:

Soupy Sales
John Ritter
Dick Clark


Of course!  When I was in elementary and there were no cartoons on TV, I would watch  "$25,000 Pyramid" because it was a game show that I could understand and play along at home.

Deep....

Birthday In Hell

A man, whose birthday has passed without remark for years, is thrown a surprise party on his 36th birthday, so surprising is this that he immediately dies and goes to hell-- unbeknowst to him. The deamons, look exactly like the party guests and begin with some insensitive remarks dressed up as birthday party sentiment.

Then the eternal tourture begins:

They sing the birthday song. Followed by

"How old are you now?
How old are you now?
How OLD ARE YOU no-ow?
How old are you now?"

To which he involuntarily responds in the format;

"I'm thirtysix years old now.
I'm thirtysix years old now.
I'm THIRTYSIX YEARS OLD no-ow.
I'm thirtysix years old now."

Complete with singing "thirtysix" faster in order to cram the sylables into the song like a bloated middle-age man into his varisty letter jacket.

But then, it doesn't end, they sing:

"So cut the cake now,
So cut the cake now,
So CUT THE CAKE no-ow,
So cut the cake now.

"I'll cut the cake now,
I'll cut the cake now,
I'll CUT THE CAKE no-ow.
I'll cut the cake now." He repliess gamely, not yet fully aware that he's in hell

"May I have a piece?
May I have a piece?
May I HAVE A  peee-eece...
May I have a piece?"
Sings his demon-as-friend, Bob

"That's really funny, Bob." he sings, eyes widening as he continues,
"That's really funny, Bob."
And straining not to he nevertheless sings, "that's REALLY FUNNY Baaaaa-aaaahb! That's really funny, Bob."

"What's funnyaboutwanting cake?
What's funnyaboutwanting cake?
What's FUNNNY'BOUTWANTIN cay-ache?
What's funnyaboutwanting cake?"

"What's going on here?
I cantstop singingthis song?
Is THIS SOME KINDA jo-ke?
What's going on here?"

"No, you are in hell,
No, you are in hell,
No, YOU ARE IN helll-ellle,
No, you are in hell." Chant the deamons, revealing themselves in their true form and chaining Bob from the hang-down flourescent lights and commencing to rend his flesh with cake cutters and char his sinnew with birthday candles as Bob screams (in format, for a little counter-point harmony)

Then the entire cast turns to the blog audience and sings:

"Now its in your head,
You'll do it all day!
Every THING THAT YOU sa-ay!
Will be sung this way."

Sandwich Therapy

At UHLC, there was a Subway that I ate at lots of times. (If this were spoken word, I would loop "ate at" and put it into the background as a hook. Get back!) I got really burned out on the food. Everyone is quick to blame it on being a bad location, but in all fairness, it was like any other Subway. I actually got burned out on the food itself: Sandwiches.

Strangely, the runner up restaurant, Popeye's Chicken, actually has a lasting place in my heart as a sentimental favorite. Probably also a place in my heart requiring statins, but nevermind...

Dakota, tragically, really likes Subway and I never want to go. But the Subway problem goes deeper. I find that I have acquired an antipathy to cold meat sandwiches. I mean, I can still eat a hot Panini sandwich melt, or one of the cold mayonnaise sandwiches (egg, chicken, tuna), or grilled cheese, or cheese and pickle, and marmite soldiers are still ok too... But the mainstay of sandwiches: a delicious stack of three types of meat on a hearty bread or hero loaded up with veggies cheeses and spreads, simply no longer appeals to me.

What made this really hit home was this crazy dream that I had last night. A mysterious old woman asked me to fly to London and prepare proper a sandwich (one without butter on the bread, and the correct sequence: slice of bread, lettuce, meat, tomato in the MIDDLE, cheese, more meat, lettuce, even coat of mayo or mustard, bread, push down with a clean hand until the lettuce crackles, cut into triangles, and served with a water-bath chilled crudite of julienned carrot sticks, cucumber, pitted black olives, celery with the strings pulled off, and asparagus spears) and deliver it to the niece of the old woman. Naturally, the whole thing was an elaborate ruse devised to draw me into the heart of an internecine conflict between irreconcilable factions of a secret society (witch-fighting spies who can phase matter and cut and cook food with their minds) where the object of the struggle was to control a mystical winged giraffe/camel/cow (very very very hungry pet with many stomach) creature.

Anyhow, while evading agents from within the secret society, I was put into harm's way and had to battle witches and their familiars by fixing them sandwiches, but none of the sandwiches in my dream looked yummy to me.

Today, I went to the deli and got a panini. Nothing on the menu looked good.

I think I need to really dedicate some time to rediscovering what I like about sandwiches: different breads, cold cuts, vegetables, spreads.

I still only like Helmann's mayonnaise and get violently ill when I think of Miracle Whip... So that part of this journey is over.

Also the "TV knife" that Eugene got me, is still just as sharp as the day I first used it. It's amazingly versatile. Light, thin, made of surgical steel.  It slices, it dices.  Sturdy enough to saw through a lamb shank and yet tomato after tomato comes out beautifully. Once I set the whole thing on fire by accident, the handle got a bit morphed, but the utensil is still in great shape.  It proudly shares my knife block with my Henckles set.  I might need 5 more knives of different shapes and varieties were it not for this beauty.  And did I mention it never needs sharpening?  How much would you pay for a knife like this? I DONT KNOW IT WAS A GIFT!
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Peristalsis

AJ Webster once posed a thought problem to Dave and I, thinking the answer was obviously "Sleep."

The problem was to consider our biological functions. If we could chose one to make somehow unnecessary, what would it be?

To me the obvious answer was to replace peristalsis with some sort of internal vacuum to push food through our GI tract, although because this was a pressure based solution, it would make digestion in space and air
travel more complicated.

My runner up idea was to replace walking as the method of ambulation with some sort of cilia + air cushion "ground effect"

The obvious answer was not "sleep"
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Sent from my mobile device

The Pirate and the Unicorn

Daddy can we watch TV? No. Got to bed. One more show? No. Go to sleep now. Be asleep! Daddy we not tired, please read us! Naughty children, sleep! Daddy tell us a story, please? We love you!

Ok. I will tell you a story. Yay! Once there was a pirate. Yar!!! That's right, he was mean and evil and his name was Blackbeard. We heard about him on PBS. No, this is a different one. Blackbeard was so mean that he punched a shark in the face! Then the shark bit his fist off, so he put a hook at the end of his arm instead. Daddy this story is too scary and I will have nightmares.

One day Blackbeard was looking for people to be mean to, but he found an island with a Unicorn instead. Pirate poke unicorn eye! Well, he certainly tried to. Like I said, he was very mean and evil, but the Unicorn had a horn on his head and was a skilled duelist.  The Unicorn easily parried the pirate's hook. Then the Unicorn used "Rainbow Magic" to turn the hook into a pineapple.

The other pirates were very hungry and tried to eat the pineapple at the end of Blackbeard's hand.

"Avast ye scurvy swabs! First of ye to lay mitts on me pineapple shall 'ave 'is 'ead bashed against the mizzenmast! Arr arr arrr"

"Um, beggin' your pardon cap'n, but as a matter o' fact, we do 'ave scurvy. It is why the delicious tropical fruit that the unicorn transformed your prosthetic limb into looks so... delicious."

What do you think happened next Dakota? Then they found lots of fruit and nobody had to be eaten. Ok, I can work with that.

"Look o'er thaRRRn ye swarthy devils"

I don't like the Devil. Dakota, Blackbeard calls his own crew names because he's so mean. Maybe he's just sad. Yes, I am sure the pressures of being a villian make him lonely and unhappy. Let's get back to the story.

"Look o'er thaRRRn ye swarthy devils... Thar she boughs! ... Laden with fru-its"

"Oh yes, it will be much easier to get fruit from defenseless trees than to try to wrestle a single pineapple hand from our sociopath captain"

So the crew got rum from the ship and had pina coladas and coconut daiquiris. They felt so happy that in the evening, they had a clam bake and sang sea shanties until they all fell down on their booty and went to sleep.

Zzzz. Zzzz.

The end.

Coinstar is now free

As long as you are getting the money to buy an amazon gift card or itunes gift certificate. Actually, this seems pretty fair to me, but a few things come to mind:

1. Whenever I see coinstar, I think about Trav's favorite snl commerical. I don't know for sure if it's his favoirte, but I'll say it is.

2. Something about the death of thrift being overblown.  I saw a TV show (Community on NBC), where the smart-alec character says "All money is spending money"

Home

About two years ago, I lived in Sugar Land, Texas. I went across the railroad tracks to live next to the prison farm. How very bluesman.

On Memorial day this year, I let some of the blues out of my hohner pro harp with the blown reed at a biker bar's open mic jam session. That was so blues, it could be metal.

This weekend, I excitedly went to the grand opening of a new Kroeger. Its not just a grocery store. They also have an in-store starbucks and they sell a lot of home decor. I bought some eggs and drove home.
Passing the entrance of my subdivision, I waved to Officer Mac, who patrols our neighborhood. He was in his hiding spot by the tennis court.

I also passed the undeveloped and undevelopable part of the subdivision; under the raised power lines that run back to the power substation transformer. Seeing it always makes me think back

When Eugene and I picked a final resting place for my Dad, it was on a hill next to the same power line structures; like the bones of giants, all of whom struck dead at once by a wizard, while they were reaching up to the sky. Eugene said "I am not sure about leaving him here, its peaceful and green but I don't like the power lines."

"That's so funny, this is the first place I like and its ONLY because of the power lines"

And of course, I grew up with a power substantion transformer behind my back yard....

Back at the house, I made a salad and listened to Ben Folds.

Later, I heard a joke "What's a pirates favorite type of sock? ARRRRgyle!"

"I used the same thinking to pick my model toyota..."

No response.

I stayed up late chatting online with the Kongai crowd. My main deck no longer leads with CC equiped with Necromantic Tomes, does this mean that strategy is played out? Does it even matter with series two now in late beta? One of the more experienced players typed, " Srysly! o.O"

(Carmelo's)

Today, I am having an early dinner at "Carmelo's", a tacqueria, and one of four places where I am greated with "Hey, Mr. William! The usual?"

When I was a sophmore at Rice, I decided to try to write fiction. I used an old manual typewriter and tried to start stories before the beginning and end them after the end, as if watching drama unfold at a
subway or bus stop; people watching rather than narration. Good in theory, but I'm not Uatu.

More accuarate is that much of my narrative does not have much point. For example, the point of this post is that I feel at home. As per usual, I have made the point after a painfully long build-up.  Now I got two choices: end this post abruptly or trail off.

Before I make the choice, I want to let you know: the painfully long build up is not on purpose, I swear. Its just a product of that part of me where I lack self-awareness. Once I realize that it's happened again, then the sudden end or trailing off

3AM at Walmart

I have a confession to make: I like to shop at Walmart at 3AM on Sunday morning when the kids are with Louren. I buy kitty litter, biscuit dough, fruit roll ups, milk... stuff like that. I got really crazy last time and bought a light fixture that doesn't work.  I admit, in this time of no shame, that's not much of a confession. But it's not nothing, I suppose.  I am supposed to be a snob, right? I'm supposed to not like Walmart because they don't sell brie and their customers are fashion victims?  To hell with that.  At 3AM, the store is brightly lit and busy with restocking activity.  The ratio of employees to customers is about 8 to 3. I can alway find what I am looking for, which is usually kitty litter, biscuit dough, fruit roll ups, milk... stuff like that. More importantly is that, I should be tired, but I'm not.  I can't sleep.

Recently, Eugene gave me the brilliant advice "lay in bed and breathe deeply". Its like telling an illiterate person to sound out the words.

There is actually a decent episode of Family Ties about insomnia. Elsie ultimately tells Alex to try to appreciate that its a time to be quietly enjoyed rather than merely endured or vainly fought.

I learned all about not sleeping in college. Not sleeping was actually pretty good for certain COMP classes. Not sleeping also allowed me to cover a double-shift at KTRU with Andy Chen.  This lead me to London, which had its offies (I almost certainly went to one of these on Calloway Road mentioned in this article) and its casinos (Can you bring me a double scotch and a pickle and Leicester sandwich?), dubious raves in warehouses under bridges, or you could just wander the empty streets until the tubes re-open (weren't you worried about getting mugged? if a mugger wanted my London A-Z, he was welcome to it), or there was always the cyberspace stand-by in the form of the VT220 terminals in the refrectory that I had the Uni turn on so that Chewy, Big I, and Duncan could play Nanveant ("Pass the felix, I'm going to smoke a fag while Cheeselord completes the Lily quest, again."). And not sleeping lead me all over Europe on trains that ran all the time and went various places.

What I learned about not sleeping is that night turns into day. There isn't anything mystical about staying up.

I also learned that sleep is important because the one of most powerful forces in humanity is narrative, which likes to be episodic. You can't roll credits on the day unless you go to sleep.

Also not sleeping makes you tired.

To be continued....