Bits and Pieces

Solitude
The house is quiet now that the hordes have departed. I’ve been thinking of a few pearls of wisdom some of them passed along. I’ll try to incorporate them in a post shortly.

Basic Brown
Willie made some cogent observations in his Chron column yesterday. Among other things, he said what I’ve said for months, namely that Obama is his own worst enemy. I’m convinced that Barack is on the edge of losing this election unless he begins to drive the discussion away from Iraq and toward the economy.

Let’s face it. He doesn’t look like a commander in chief. Yes, he looks presidential, but the two are horses of a different color. A stubborn prognathus jaw is required of a CIC. A President has to look, well, thoughtful, stately, Presidential. Barack meets the second spec, but needs a little surgery to create the appropriate pissed-off look of a well-rounded modern American head of state.

Firefox
I downloaded the latest edition of the Firefox browser a few days ago and it has been working well so far. The new one is Version 3.0.1, a much improved browser according to the hype. Previous editions were unstable and on several occasions, I removed the program to prevent computer lockups. If my latest download continues to work as it has for the past several days, the bugs that put the whammy on my machine are gone. Let’s hope…!

The latest version came with a new feature that I like, the ability to enlarge images on the ‘net with your mouse or pad. Most browsers permit type enlargement, but Firefox is the only browser I know about that will enlarge an image.

On my laptop, I can enlarge images by holding the Ctrl key down and clicking ++ several times to get a larger image. On my desktop, the feature works by holding down Ctrl and rolling the mouse scroll wheel.

I don’t know if this feature has any practical application unless you have a fetish for finding warts, pimples, and wrinkles on the faces of people you don’t like, which isn’t a bad idea come to think of of.

Are you into romance?
The Romance Writers of America (RWA) is holding its annual conference July 30-August 2, 2008, at the Marriott Hotel, 55 Fourth Street, San Francisco.

Holy Romance, Lover Man! Is that a suitable location for the flowering of love? I suppose so. An imaginative writer could cook up a plot involving love at first sight between a street denizen who turns out to be a member of Britain’s Royal family and an innocent maiden from Hays, Kansas. I just threw Hays in because there aren’t too many innocent maidens in SF.

Golf can be hazardous to your health
Poor ole Michelle Wie had another kiss of death planted on her Saturday. After playing three rounds of sub-par golf, which put her one stroke behind the leader in the LPGA State Farm Classic going into Sunday, LPGA officials discovered that she had  departed the “Signing” area after the completion of her Saturday round without signing her scorecard, an automatic disqualification.

What else could happen to this poor kid? I can’t think of anything, unless perhaps she gives birth on the 18th hole when she’s fifteen strokes ahead in the world’s most prestigious golf tournament. Birthing during a tournament is probably an automatic disqualification.

Technorati Tags: Willie Brown,Barack Obama,Firefox,Visitors

As the World Churns

We’ve been rather erratic about our postings lately as we prepare for upcoming earth shaking events.

Later today, an ark load of relatives will descend on us and then a couple days later, another load. I’m writing this on the fly because we have some preparatory activities left on our list, like a haircut and a full tank of gas.

I hope my credit card limit will permit me to fill up. If not, that kills the haircut, too. Our preferred hairstylist, a woman from Germany, a woman we’ve known for more than fifteen years, operates out of a tiny salon in an isolated area of the Western Hemisphere.

I like her because she gives me the skinny on politics and life in Germany while she clips and styles my hair and tells me I need a new hair piece.

Fortunately, I received my Stimulus check a couple of days ago. That should cover one tank, assuming the price of gas at the pump doesn’t increase before I leave home this morning.

I owe George my thanks for stimulating my economy, but a deep respect for honesty and integrity requires me to inform you, George, that the amount isn’t enough to swing my vote to John Boy. Sorry.

So, for the next three weeks, I will probably be even more erratic. My time on the couch in front of a television will vanish, and tech savvy husbands and wives will battle for a ‘net connection on my two available machines.

In a way, isolation from the exciting world of political journalism may be good for my soul–and my golf game.

Back again soon, I hope

Quickie Update

My German barber-political analyst provided me with two quick insights into the social and political situation in Germany, (1) Arabs are invading the country and taking jobs from Germans but the German politicians don’t care; (2) The Germans hate Bush (this said with a hint of venom in her voice.

Technorati Tags: Visiting Relatives,Haircuts,Price of Gas,Stimulus Check

Me Me Me. I’m in Love with Me Me Me

I thought about “Happy Days are Here Again” as a title for this post. And in a sense, the world of journalism and blogging is soon to be energized.

Mark this date on your calendar: Tomorrow, Saturday, June 14th That’s when we’ll have el Gavo to kick around again. That’s the day he’ll embarks on a show business career.

His grand adventure will be a weekly radio show promptly at noon each Saturday on Green 960. Hmmm. Wasn’t that the spot of Benefit Mag’s weekly too-early-even-for-sober-people show?

Gavo’s Journey at least starts at a decent hour. And the planned format is commendable. Gav will interview important and interesting people. In other words, he’ll be asking questions that drive people nuts instead of the other way around.

His first guest is Ariana Huffington in a pre-recorded interview, but eventually, his show will be live, complete with (hopefully) live and sober callers. And somewhere down the line, he hopes to take his show on the road.

This latter element intrigues me. Will he tool around the state or the country in a humongous road monster like a rock star, complete with groupies?

And just exactly what is his itinerary? Will his secretary include one on his official schedule? Or will the schedule be expunged in the interests of protecting his destination towns from hordes of adoring fans?

I personally think Gavo ought to don some biker duds, hook his bike on the rear of his monster van and roar up and down the roads, he on the bike and Jen driving the van.

This arrangement will free el Gavo for the arduous task of waving and smiling for the benefit of the crowds in places like Hollister. Maybe he could approach Orange County Choppers for a special el Gavo creation, complete with the image of hair in the shape of a flowing lion’s mane.

An even more marvelous touch would be the addition of Jen as a Biker Babe on a miniature twin of el Gav’s bike but with training wheels. This is one I’m not kidding about. She would make a helluva fine-looking Biker Babe. Maybe the two of them, el Gavo and Mrs. la Gavette, could begin his tour from Montana. “Honeymoon on the Road” would make a fine title for a send-off show.

Please don’t think I’m ridiculing anyone here or demonstrating a mean streak a mile wide. To the contrary. Das Gavomeister’s probably a nice guy when you get right down to it. I’m just offering some suggestions to help him on his road to the White House. Screw the Goobernor’s office. Aim for the big one, Gav.

But pending the onset of his road trip, bloggers all, and Narrative Journalists, too, must be content with the excitement of a political discussion between him and Ariana, she of the Monster Ego.

Here’s how the first few moments of el Gavo’s trek to stardom may go.

“Good afternoon, Ariana. How many of my adoring fans have you brought with you this noon to shout and cheer outside the studio door?”

“Good afternoon, Gavo…”

“For freakin’ crissakes! Never use that label. Some son of a bitch in the blogosphere coined it, and the damned thing is driving me nuts. If I ever see the sumbitch…!”

Uh, oh. I better head for Cyclopic AZ where I maintain a secret below-ground facility for tracking UFO’s and crazy politicians.

Technorati Tags: Gavin Newsom,Jennifer Siebel,Talk Show,Ariana Huffington

No Longer Living

My friend Robert has been deprived of life, but he is working hard to reanimate his dead tissue.

His ailment is called Writer’s Block, and he has become catatonic. Writer’s block can be a deadly illness, right up there with the clap, except that the mortality rate of STD’s has been slowed somewhat by the advent of potent drugs. No one has developed a vaccine for writer’s block. Robert’s condition has become so dangerous that has lately begun to hallucinate.

Here’s a figment of a story he related to me yesterday. 

“A friend of mine living in Needles, a guy named Gary, has a few suggestions that he believes may break my log jam.”

“Write about el Gavo,” Gary suggested.

“Nah, he’s just another pretty face. I’d as soon write about Mick Jagger.”

“Well, write about Jagger.”

“Can’t do that. He’s a friend of Gav’s.”

“Gary ran through a few more names, people like John Wayne, Steve McQueen, Marilyn Monroe, and Clark Kent.”

“You’re talking about old timers, Gare, people from a century long gone. And Kent is a comic book character, just a few lines on a page.”

“I see your point,” Gary said.”

Robert ended this complete fabrication with this plaintive cry, “If this condition persists much longer, I may have to take an extended, around-the-world cruise and file dispatches from exotic lands like Montana.”

Robert is definitely in bad shape, creating fantasies of non-existent conversations to explain his illness.

Ordinarily, I wouldn’t know these things. It’s just that I happen to be Gary.

Technorati Tags: Needles California,Writer’s Block

Reading Chinese Isn’t Easy…

 …unless you happen to be Chinese…

This is a screen capture of a part of a page from this site. No, I didn’t translate it and then post it. I ran across this on the ‘net while fooling around. If you’re interested in seeing the entire page, click here.

In the window that appears after you click, notice the cn in the URL. That means someone in China went to the trouble of translating the page. Or perhaps, they used the Google Translator.

In either case, I wonder why someone in China would render a page from a tiny blog site?

Holy Cow! They’ll probably have my name on a watch list somewhere and plan to arrest me the moment I set foot in China.

Well, okay. If that’s the game, please don’t bother. I am not attending the Olympics. When the Olympics begins, I’m going to disconnect all TV’s and computers and take a long vacation in Bullhead City.

It isn’t that I don’t like China or the Olympics. I’ve never been to China and have never attended an Olympic event. It’s just that 24/7 worth of anything numbs my brain.

By the way, in the process of fooling around with Google Translator, I noticed that hovering your mouse over a portion of the translated page (Chinese, e.g.), will produce a popup balloon with the original English post in it.

I also learned that Google Translator can translate from and to 27 different languages. Now, I have a new toy to occupy my time for a little while.

Technorati Tags: Chinese Language,Olympics,Bullhead City AZ,Google Translator

The Milestones of Life

This is Post Number 500 since I opened this site in April 2007.

So what? Ho hum. Yawn. What’s the big deal, pal?

Well, I’ve been cranking these things out at the rate of more than one a day. That’s what the Blog Gurus advise a new blogger to do.

Their advice is based on the assumption that most bloggers want to be noticed, the way aspiring movie actors and nude models want to be noticed. Public nudity is a certain attention getter, but in my case, that’s definitely out of the question.

Besides, my purpose never was to be noticed (roll eyes). I wrote in the beginning and still do primarily for my daughters and a few redneck cousins. If a few others happened to stumble across the site, good.

I also wanted to kill a little time and exercise my brain muscles. As the intellect goes, so goes the universe, someone said once. So, blogging has been good. Internet research is a challenge. I love it.

And, man, there’s a lot of info about people floating around on the ‘net. A diligent and unprincipled researcher could build a biography of some poor, unsuspecting slob, complete with photos.

If I have a problem getting a post up and readable, it’s following those damned grammatical rules. I admire those who can knock out a grammatically correct sentence without raising a sweat. But that isn’t me. I keep a can of generic store brand spray-on eau de cologne handy to mask the emissions from my snapping and popping synapses.

But, little by little, I’m making progress, so much in fact, that I have decided to abandon my role as a blogger and become a Narrative Journalist. I figure 500 posts qualifies me  for a promotion and a new job title.

Besides, Narrative Journalist sounds more respectable. Blogger is a label with a nice sound to it, but it suggests beer and pretzels at Happy Hour. I prefer the ever chic and genteel double Diet Dr. Pepper on the rocks, hold the cherry. Cherries drive my glucose level out of sight.

Okay, so beginning with my next 500-post cycle, I will be a Narrative Journalist.

Actually, I just knocked this out to meet my self-imposed quota. I could have written something hateful, but I decided to let my thoughts of GB pass and concentrate on humor today.

Technorati Tags: Narrative Journalism

She Writes What She Wants

I’m captivated by the writings of author Alexandra Jones of The Ax Files.

She has this gift of expression that confounds me. I don’t understand a doggoned word she writes.

That’s actually a compliment–for me anyway. Anyone who knows me can tell you that I have the attention span of a gnat. If ever I possessed any ability to concentrate, I can’t remember it. She tasks me to concentrate and that is good.

But more than that, I always come away with at least one motivational gem. For example, a few columns back, she listed some of her preferences in male attributes, stuff like neck veins and snoring. How apropos. She must have written that one especially for me. No, not because I possess those attributes, except snoring a Brahms’s lullaby in alto.

I had been thinking seriously about becoming the world’s best-selling romance novelist but I’d been stymied when it came to understanding the things that turn women on.

Sure, I know all about male preferences. They can be summarized by the old Army Chicken metaphor: Breasts and Legs. Ax has now provided the one spark I needed. All that remains is a suitable pen name before I launch my drive for inclusion on the New York Times Best Selling Author list.

Romance novels by men don’t sell well unless the name is Nicholas Sparks and that one is already taken. I’m thinking of Roberta Sunshine. I think Solis was a Scandinavian sun god, kind of like the Egyptian god, Aton, only with blond hair.

She also touched a nerve in her latest essay with an observation about writing a column (she’d been offered the opportunity to write one) of no more than 500-words, for pay yet. She respectfully declined and I stand firmly with her.

I once wrote a couple of columns for different papers with the 500-word caveat and it was a real pain in the arsetermeister. In fact, it was sheer torture. Put that together with other requirements like restrictions on subject matter and a weekly deadline, and if that isn’t creative homicide, I don’t know what is.

How in the hell can originality bloom in 500 words? I mean, that’s just the beginning of something extraordinary. The great works of literature may have been created by chance by a herd of monkeys in a room full of typewriters, but they sure as hell didn’t write them in 500-word increments.

I am all in favor of her determination not to restrict her original works to 500 words. One of these days, a more enlightened literary market will spot her works on The Ax Files. Stranger things have happened.

Personally, I’d like to see the return of pulp fiction where prolific hacks like me can earn a penny a word if the editor feels especially generous. Failing that, maybe I’ll enroll in a penny-per-click ad selling program. I know someone who raked in $18 over a two month span. At least I could claim to be a paid author.

Technorati Tags: Alexandra Jones,Aton,Romance Novels,Nicholas Sparks