Dancing with Hines Ward

I never watched an episode of Dancing with the Stars in my life until now... only to watch Hines Ward. The Pittsburgh Steeler is light on his feet, and is fun to watch. I enjoy seeing HIM enjoy himself so much.
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As for the rest of the show, I could write a book on how to improve it. It drags out too long....I'm not giving up that much of my life to watch hours of the show stretched over two nights. Just dance and vote. Period. Skip all the tears and BS.
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Also the tension gets to you after a while. Tension you say? Yeah. Like is gravity going to fail and send Kirstie Alley spinning off the planet?
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Or how about all the boobs? Really. I know you men enjoy it, but I get sick of looking at boobs spilling out all over the place wondering if they are going to stay put or will they have a "wardrobe" malfunction?
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Doubt I'll be watching much more. But I will watch the two minutes of Hines Ward. He is a class act.

Robert Bradley

Deal Breakers

He was handsome, witty, a trifle brooding (but in a sexy poetic-artist-INFP kind of way,) had a killer body and looked great in a suit. Women loved him and men wanted to BE him.

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But he smelled like Garlic.

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That would be a deal breaker.

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Miracle Whip matters not to me, but in the Sunday Morning Muse yesterday, I got to thinking about what other things at this stage in my life would be the one specific detail, or perhaps idiosyncracy- which would trigger the dreaded deal breaker reflex.

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I love men who have hobbies and interests, but being a fanatic is deal breaker. It's true for all different things...no religious fanatics, no Elvis shrine in the house, no super health food fanatics, etc. Basketball springs to mind simply because it is March Madness. Go ahead, do a bracket. That's cool. It's betting. Just like I bet the "over and under" of the latest snowfall because I'm THAT bored this winter. But.... I hate basketball, and I will not spend precious moments of life watching it. Been there, done that. So if you have to watch every game for a whole month...that is a deal breaker.

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If you have any of Charlie Sheen's Tiger blood in you, it's a deal breaker. Drug use, drinking, multiple women... forget it. Put smoking on that list too. I don't smoke, and I'm to the point now where I don't think smoking is "cool." I don't want to live with smoke, smell like smoke, or die from second hand smoke. Deal breaker.

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Being boring is a deal breaker, too. I at least want someone who can hold their own in a conversation, are interested in the news, and have some ideas about life other than wondering what is on TV tonight.

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But...and here it comes. The number one deal breaker for me is BAD TASTE IN MUSIC. I know that is subjective thing, but I know what I like. I will not tolerate Michael Bolton, Toby Keith or the Insane Clown Posse. And that's just for starters. So expect the first conversation to be about music. Music tells me more than anything about someone's soul.

The Sunday Morning Muse, March 27, 2011

If you believe the commercials, the world is divided into people who love Miracle Whip and people who hate it. You can guarantee I will never, ever eat any of it. Put me in the "hate" crowd. To be fair, I don't eat anything with mayo in it, so it was never a good fit for me.

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I think it was a pretty good marketing gimmick. Right off the top they realize that some people, no matter what, will never be convinced even to try it. I would go as far as to say I'm grossed out by it. But everyone knows someone who does eat it, and at least they got attention in keeping the brand name out there.

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When I think of Miracle Whip, I think of my dad. Mom putting it on sandwiches for his lunch. He was always looking to spice up sandwiches with something. There was always a hot pepper jar in the fridge, horse radish (which I want no part of either,) and brown mustard.

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The commercials for MW, as they call it now, go as far as to call it a "deal breaker" when it comes to relationships. Goofy, but funny. Perhaps a topic for another post. Deal breakers.

Awaiting Junk Day

A lot of work to do. And as luck would have it, the township is planning a junk day once again, if they can figure out a way to pay for it. Roughly two thousand families in the township, and the bid was 27 thousand dollars for a hauler to pick up the junk. That's a lot of money.

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I'd gladly pitch in money to help defray the cost of junk day. It is a wonderful thing to be able to box up junk, walk it to the curb and it is gone. I equate it to the luxury of having a giant "black hole" to just toss stuff in and never see it again.

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I contemplated a dumpster but I don't think I'll need it. Plus it's around two hundred bucks. I figure between donating things, burning crap, and Junk Day, the word FREE sounds a little better.

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Happy Birthday Leonard Nimoy- 80 years old Today

I am what I am, Leila, and if there are self-made purgatories, then we all have to live in them. Mine can be no worse than someone else's.- Spock, "This Side of Paradise."

An Interesting Concept

The Music Genome Project. If you are not familiar with that phrase you probably have never listened to Pandora Internet radio. I can't imagine that this has been around since 1999 and I had never heard of it. Wikipedia can explain it a lot better than I can, and if you follow the link and read it you will know what I know.

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What I can tell you is that when you break down a song into musical components (or GENES,) the practical application is that you can essentially predict what music a person may like based on songs and artists who have similiar components.

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I just find the whole concept really cool. I enjoy Pandora, though I find myself flicking between my personal "stations" a lot. I have a Dean Martin station, a Willie/Waylon/Merle Haggard station, a Ditty Bop station, a Donovan station and a Van Morrison station for starters. And something I named "Summer Breeze" just because I wanted to hear that song. It led me to a bunch of forgotten old 70's songs that I remember playing on jukeboxes as a kid when I went out with my parents and they gave me money to get rid of me for a bit so they could enjoy a few beers and eat dinner. But the cool thing is that "similar" styles expose me to both new artists, and what we used to call "deeper" album cuts (way back when.) I find that the Beatles show up a lot. But also groups I forgot about like FireFall, and old Eric Clapton and Cream.... and Joe Cocker. None of which I have in any collection of my own.

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There really is no need for me to keep all the old albums I have in crates downstairs. It's too easy to just pick a song and Pandora will play it. But...I probably won't get rid of them yet. Maybe someday I'll have a music room again. Buy those "album cover frames" you see in stores. Put them up for nostalgia's sake when I'm old. I may as well pick up a Victrola while I can, too. Sheesh. There's an analogy here somewhere.

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And it occurs to me that I used to sit behind a microphone and spin records. It also occurs to me that I remember calling radio stations to ask to hear a song and then taping them on a cassette deck instead of buying them.

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What's next? A computer chip with all the music ever made implanted into my brain? Then all I have to do is think of a song.... and there it is...

The Eyes Have It

I took Elementary Human Genetics as a four week course in college, and do not recall purple being one of the possible eye colors. Oh there are dominant and recessive traits, and things combine and there are some deeper shades of blue, but purple is really a blue with blood vessels showing through a bit... (red plus blue equals purple)... so I suppose it is possible. I searched a whole five minutes to see if I could find a good close up of Elizabeth Taylor's "violet" eyes, but the ones where I could actually see a color were makeup ads, and we KNOW those are touched up.)

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I feel bad about her dying today. But it is distant kind of thing. I can't say I've ever watched one of her movies all the way through, she being of a different era. But I do recall her work with AIDS, and her friendship with Michael Jackson. And of course the marriages. Eight of them. Maybe I'll get purple contacts and improve my chances.

Spring is Here

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.

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Charles Dickens

Easter Rabbit Super Moon

I got the right day now for the Super Moon. So I thought, what a great once in twenty year opportunity....go out and get a decent picture of the city with this huge moon hanging over it.

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I took 35 pictures and they sucked. I used fancy camera settings in low light, which means you have to hold down the thing longer.... and I shook so bad the moon light looks like demons flying over the city. Humph. Switched settings and all I got was a normal looking white spot. The city was so dark by this time all I had was Kaliedoscope-type lights...unrecognizable as any city on this planet.

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So I gave up. Came in and pointed the camera out the front window where there is far too many Easter decorations for my taste, (not my doing), and I shot it without any creative thought or planning. Came in here and prissed it up with PhotoShop and here you have it. My mediocre attempt to participate in this Super Moon thing.

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Oh I would love to be on a beach somewhere planning these shots of people you see on the internet...with the moon as a ball they are holding in their hand, etc. Neat stuff. I admire the work.

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For now, I'm left with Easter Rabbit.

Big Moon Risin' Out My Window

Moon pictures tonight taken from my desk at home.

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Tonight's a big night for the moon. It won't be this big in about 20 years and it will be 30 percent brighter.

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(left) Moon Glow

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(right) Moon Over Chopstick

Update: Oops. The "big" moon is actually Saturday night. I will get to try again. (I thought it didn't look much bigger! Oh well.)

Go Dennis Go

Where Would You Go?

Got this image from an NPR story about images from the Atomic Age. At the radio station I used to work for there was one of these signs on the basement door. The basement was a scary place back then. Probably still is. Filled with mold. It had become a graveyard of sorts for old radio parts clear from the Marconi days I would bet.

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I don't know where I would go if we had a nuclear event but it most certainly would NOT be that basement.

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Happy St. Pat's Day

Never iron a four-leaf clover, because you don't want to press your luck. ~Author Unknown

What Men Think About

The Sunday Morning Muse, March 13, 2011

Water, water everywhere. The scene from Japan defies description. It's difficult to watch the devastation there. It's even worse to hear the news people try to outdo each other ramping up the nuclear reactor aspect of the story. When I went to bed last night there was the potential of three meltdowns. Now the talking heads keep upping the ante with "expert" predictions and possibilities, using vague terms like "partial meltdowns," and various "What If" scenarios. Is it the end of times?

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What is irritating to me is that THE STORY IS BIG ENOUGH AS IT IS. Let's just stick with what we really know for now. And let the story develop in real time, and give us REAL information.

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Suddenly Libya and Egypt don't exist anymore. And the workers in Wisconsin? Gee. Not even a blip on the screen.

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The US of course will give aid to Japan. I thought we were broke. It is puzzling. Let me be clear. I want us to aid Japan in anyway we can. But...getting back to "broke." We are not broke because of the unions. That is laughable. Just look at GM. They blamed the unions two years ago. The unions are still there. They are making money now. Go figure. Better management?

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The average worker isn't the bad guy. But if you listen to Faux News you would think that union workers are living the high life. No, I'm not deducting taxes on my vacation home as well as my residence. I have no vacation home. I have no yacht or Rolex. I don't hide my money in offshore accounts.

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400 people here have as much wealth as the rest of the country combined. Something to think about.

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Yeh Yeh

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So glad to see this uploaded. I have it on cassette somewhere. This will bring you back to the days when you could be famous and have bad teeth and no one cared.

Wisdom

A Rainy Night Squinting at Directions

The I-Pod got here finally. And I have no 12 year old kid to show me how to use it. So I'm screwed. I futzed with the setup process and couldn't type right so I'm registered under a strange name. My credit card isn't accepted now, and I can't figure out how to change it so I'm double screwed.

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That said, what is with all the information you have to give Apple just to do anything? It scares me since I don't know what is really required and what they are asking for just because THEY CAN.

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Now I know what people meant when they said you become a slave to Apple. I really believe my purpose in life should be to 'try out' things and point out to the techno-geeks how user unfriendly their products are.

I am smart. But I am also very lazy. I have no time for manuals and tutorials and crap, and pushing things on me I don't want or need. There seems to be a lot of that.

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I see the potential in this device. But I also see much redundancy that I don't need in my life.

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I only want to be able to listen to far off radio. From places I will never visit. And maybe play a few of my favorite songs. Maybe download a few free "apps" to stay somewhat cool.

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Enough kvetching. It's a new toy. It will get me to Spring, when I can just GET OUTSIDE again.

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Upside Down - Official Video - Paloma Faith

Hitchens Interview on 60 Minutes Tonight

What can be asserted without proof can be dismissed without proof.

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How many times has he said it? It makes them crazy. His religion debates on the net are really something to watch. Love him or hate him, he knows religion. And he knows more than you, or me

or many others out there who profess some faith or another, but actually know very little about religions, their similarities, differences, and their history. He is way over my head most of the time, but I can grasp enough to realize the heft of his arguments.

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I hope he beats his cancer. Provocateurs like him rarely come around who have both the intellect and the swashbuckling persona that make Hitchens, well.... Hitchens. And I daresay to his naysayers, that he serves a purpose. Challenging beliefs is important because knowing why you believe what you do, not just because it was always what you were told, is the essence of who you

are.

The Sunday Morning Muse, March 6, 2011

Caring For Your Introvert - from Atlantic Monthly

(snip)

Remember, someone you know, respect, and interact with every day is an introvert, and you are probably driving this person nuts.

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I can remember going to Sauna Ranta...a Finnish Camp not far from where we live most Sundays as a kid. The family would gather around a picnic table, the kids would horse around a lot at the campground site and the older Finns would take a sauna and then jump in the lake. I remember my grandmother pulling me into the sauna for probably my first time. Sitting in the hot steam, just sitting there, was kinda boring for a kid, but even then I felt a connection to it. There is something timeless about pouring water on hot rocks, inhaling all that sinus clearing steam and yes, just sitting.

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People don't do that enough. Just sit. Take time alone to recharge. Later as I grew up, I assumed that everyone "needed" that basic alone time. To just cease thinking. Just feel the present moment. Introverts need that more than anyone. It's that quiet time and reflection that is disappearing in our culture. At one time darkness meant darkness. No TV, no lights or radio. Just a fire...which is an invitation to sit and think about the day that's been or look up at the stars to dream about tomorrow. We introverts don't run for politics much. Too much handshaking, parties, fundraising, and running around. Cuts into the "alone" time. But. . .

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If we introverts ran the world, it would no doubt be a calmer, saner, more peaceful sort of place. As Coolidge is supposed to have said, "Don't you know that four fifths of all our troubles in this life would disappear if we would just sit down and keep still?"

He Who's Name Cannot be Spelled

So how do you spell Gaddafi's name? I saw it three different ways with just a quick look on the front page of a news website. Gadhafi? Quaddafi?

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This quiz is difficult and enlightening. I did terribly. Probably because I don't listen to Glenn Beck long enough for him to complete a sentence.

Are You Text-Worthy?

The phone works! Yes it took another hour of my life...(internet sales blamed the portal people, the portal people blamed billing...and so on and so forth.) But eventually I found a live person who understood... about how the stars have to line up, and every cog in the wheel has to turn at the precise second... and then with an indifferent beep my new password was sent along a cellular cloud of air to a pole and to me and here I am with a phone that works.

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The tough part now will be text restraint. When I wasn't a texter, people KNEW this and knew I would never respond, and in fact got pissed because charges ended up on my bill. Now I have to parcel out texts like I share M'nM's....sparingly.

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I have the 250 text package. Which sounded like a lot till I realized they count the texts I RECEIVE, too. So if anyone asks.... I still don't text unless it is Colin Firth or someone else in the

"A" list.

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Move On... Nothing Else to See Here

I never liked his comedy show. Dumbed down and sexed up. I never liked his so called "acting," and I certainly don't care about his bizarre personal life. Charlie Sheen will sooner or later implode and the hungry news cycle will eat up every blessed piece of flesh and then spit him out when the next freak show comes along.

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That said, I love his father. I pretended he was the real president practically the whole time Bush was in office. It was my escape. The West Wing. Brilliantly written, compelling characters, and Martin Sheen embodied the President of my dreams.

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Tom Petty And The Heartbreakers - I'm Tired Joey Boy