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

Radio Days

We all hide some episodes in our lives from others. My secret is about radio.

I never listen to talk radio. My aversion began a long time ago. As a bright and lively average American, I’d wake and immediately turn on the radio. Mostly, music was my preferred listening genre, but occasionally I’d catch a little conversation.

One morning, I happened to catch this God-awful raspy voice that grated on my ears like a deep-throated buzz saw. I mean. seriously, the speaker should never have been permitted to grace the airwaves of mellifluous Columbia School of Broadcasting graduates.

And then like a bolt out of the blue, it dawned on me. I knew this man. He was an utter lunatic. He also was the voice of Razorback Jack (remember Wolfman Jack?) the station’s country music DJ and Larry T. Worthington bringing big band sounds to the world one song at a time. Now, here he was doing a poor imitation of a talk-show host. What the hell was going on? Was this some damned one-man station operating out of a basement?

But that wasn’t the worst part. This horrible imitation of a human voice, which sounded vaguely like a computer-generated monotonic monster from Mars, was mine.

At the realization, I actually gagged. I’d never heard my own voice before, and the actual sound of it made me ill.

So, my real secret is that I was once a genuine radio talk show host. I still have some of the tapes laying around, and I sincerely hope that I can find them before I die so that no one will learn the truth about my halcyon days.

Those were crazy and maddening times. I’d schedule a guest for a recording session in the studio and ask a few prepared questions, which the guest always ignored. In fact, more than one apparently thought it was his/her own personal show and co-opted the mike. Once, I had to pull the plug on the recording console.

I’d usually work around this minor glitch by recording for an hour and a half and then cutting the most obnoxious fifteen minutes. After hearing my own voice, I realized that I should have cut my own part.

I learned some valuable lessons in my radio days. Even then, I figured, no one listened to radio on Saturday, with the possible exception of some drunks at the corner bar who always called to request their favorite country whine at the exact moment I cued a tape and fell asleep.

I also learned that on-air personalities could be, well, quirky. One guy who had a Filipino music show used to phone me when he had a hangover or a hot babe lined up and ask me to cover. For a couple of hours, I would be Johnny Maldonado, the Manila Music Man. True story.

Another one regularly rang me at midnight and ask me to cover because “this babe just called.” So I’d haul my buns out of bed and drive to the station, slip a tape on, and fall asleep on a cot in the manager’s office. The station manager slipped in one morning and caught me. My penance? I had to sit at the console and sleep while he used his cot for other purposes.

The radio game is different these days. More genteel, more refined. With one exceptions. I doubt very many listeners tune in to talk radio on Saturday.

Which explains why I didn’t listen to el Gavo and Ariana. Others more talented and energetic will cover all bases. I prefer the U.S. Open.

However, if Gav needs an emergency substitute, I may be available on short notice. Call my agent 24/7.

Technorati Tags: Radio Talk Shows,Gavin Newsom,Saturday Radio,Ariana Huffington

Will You Love Me Tomorrow?

I’m sitting here watching PBS and listening to some great doo wop sounds.

The audience is definitely into the music. They sort of remind me of golfing fans. They emulate the gestures of the vocalists and mouth the words, all with impeccable rhythm.

The songs are ancient, sure, but they have an enduring quality about them. Music crosses borders and spans generations. Music unites.

Sitting before the TV, I find myself keeping time and finally standing up and moving as if I have a partner.

Doo wop’s sounds and tempos speak to romanticism, and its subtle lyrics are in sharp contrast to the wall of sound and frenzied  movements of modern music.

Doo wop is for slow and easy romance, mood music for lovers. There is an anticipatory tension about doo wop that speaks to the gentleness of true love. True love rarely lasts forever, but doo wop extends that promise.

At least until tomorrow morning.

Tonight you’re mine completely
You give you love so sweetly
Tonight the light of love is in your eyes
But will you love me tomorrow?
The Shirelles

Technorati Tags: Doo Wop,PBS,The Shirelles

Sunday Ramblings

A Tiger by the Tail

Will Tiger Woods win his 5th Master’s today? Maybe. He’s on the leader board and when he’s that close, he has a habit of pulling miracles out of his pocket. We shall see what we shall see.

From Here to Eternity

Is it my imagination, or is this the longest election season in the history of civilization? I’m beginning to regurgitate a little in my mouth every time I turn on the television. I love soap operas, but As the Stomach Churns is grating on my nerves. Settle this thing, Kids, so we can get back to our ordinary lives, moaning and groaning about the incompetent politicians we just voted into office.

Take Me Home Country Roads

Our daughter mailed me a couple of CD’s yesterday and I’m looking forward to some classical country music (Is that country played by the Boston Pops?). She called to let me know the CD’s are in the mail, and in the course of our conversation, one of those glitches in memory popped up.

One of the songs included is Blue Yodel Number One by Jimmy Rogers. At least I thought it was Jimmy Rogers. But my daughter said the name on the CD is Jimmy Rodgers. Yes, I know there is a Jimmy Rodgers, but Jimmy Rodgers was a folk singer of a more modern era. Jimmy Rogers was an early pioneer in the country music field.

But, no, my daughter said. The old Jimmy Rogers was actually Jimmy Rodgers. The newer Jimmy Rodgers is another Jimmy Rodgers. Nuh, uh, I said. I’ll prove it. These are two separate people with differently spelled surnames.

Well, long story short. I scoured the Internet for Jimmy Rogers but only Jimmy Rodgers popped up. I’m telling you straight, there is a Jimmy Rogers, and somewhere in my collection of vinyls, I have a Jimmy Rogers album. The problem is, I’m too lazy to look for it.

So, for the moment, my daughter is correct. We’ll see. I have a good memory. In fact, I remember the first few lines of the song:

T for Texas, T for Tennessee;
T for Texas, T for Tennessee;
T for Thelma,
That gal that made a wreck out of me.

Now, if I could just remember what I had for breakfast this morning.

Postscript.

Jimmy Rogers was of my grandmother’s generation. Jimmy Rodgers was a 1960’s type, nearer my time, but my likings really run to neo-country, like Ray Charles and his rendition of I can’t Stop Loving You.

On the other hand, Key Largo by Bertie Higgins will suffice, and the Bee Gees are quite nice, too. But in a pinch, I can handle just about any kind of music. Music is kind of like sex. It’s all good. Some is just better.

Technorati Tags: Country Music,Jimmy Rogers,Jimmy Rodgers,Bertie Higgins,Bee Gees

Aloha, Aloha

Those of you who have been accustomed to a quick weekend trip to Hawaii from the uncluttered Oakland Airport are going to miss one of your favorite get-away airlines.

Aloha Airlines, headquartered in Honolulu, shut down its passenger operations today after 61 years in business.

In addition to its daily flights throughout the islands of Hawaii, the airline also provided regularly scheduled passenger service to Oakland, Sacramento, Santa Ana, Vegas, and Reno.

Consequently, Aloha’s move will have an enormous economic impact not only on Hawaii but also on parts of California and Nevada.

For the moment, however the ultimate outcome of Aloha’s decision is up in the air. Hawaii Governor Linda Lingle has asked a judge to stay Aloha’s decision while a search for financial solutions is underway. We’ll probably know sometime today of the judge’s decision.

Once upon a time in another life, we flew Aloha regularly between Honolulu and the other islands. At that time, as I remember, Aloha had no flights outside of the state. For service beyond Hawaii, travelers relied mainly on United, American, Western, and the ultimate iconic symbol of America, Pan Am.

And one of my friends in those times was a pilot for Aloha. We socialized and I have a picture of him on my Facebook page. Great guy.

We’ll miss Aloha if and when we decide on a golfing vacation. Aloha’s passenger service agents and cabin crew were always friendly and helpful.

Aloha, Aloha.

p.s. Bill Clinton exposed his ancient thinking at the California Democratic Convention this past weekend when he used the term “chill out.” Holy Chill Out, Billy Bob. That’s old, Man. Let Californians be the individualistic souls we are. Chill out, Bud!

Technorati Tags: Aloha Aitlines,Bankruptcy,Oakland,Sacramento,Santa Ana,San Diego,Las Vegas,Reno,Hawaii,Honolulu

The Sporting Life

Did you know there is a Bay Area Sports Hall of Fame located on California Street in San Francisco?

It’s a non-profit charitable organization established to honor sports legends to benefit youth sports programs. The entire site is a goldmine of information for those interested in sports.

The section of the Hall of Fame site that intrigued me was its Inductees page. Here you can find the names of many Bay Area sports heroes, the dates of their induction, their sport, and the location of the Plaque awarded to them. You can also click on their names and find pictures and brief biographies. As I scrolled through the list of names, I recognized all of them, but a few were more familiar than others.

The very first name of the list was Frankie Albert. He was a quarterback for Stanford and later the Niners QB. His trademark touch was a leap in the air to throw a pass. When I was a kid, I watched him play in the old Kezar Stadium. He starred in a movie called The Spirit of Stanford.

Then there was flamboyant Max Baer. He was the heavyweight boxing champion of the world who lost his title to the Cinderella Man, Jimmy Braddock. Although born in Omaha, Max grew up in Livermore and began his boxing career in Oakland. He was widely known as a playboy and appeared in several movies, most notably The Prizefighter and the Lady, which coincidentally was on HBO today. Max, Sr. was the father of Max, Jr. of Beverly Hillbillies fame and the older brother of Buddy Baer, also a boxer and a Hollywood actor.

Of course John Brodie is included. John later became a professional golfer and I once met him briefly on the course when a friend introduced us. He is about a foot and a half taller than me. And a better golfer, I might add.

Two of the DiMaggio brothers, Dom and Joe, were both inductees. As a Yankee, Joltin’ Joe, the Yankee Clipper, ran off a string of hits in 56 consecutive games, a record unbroken still. Overshadowed by his brother, Joe, Dom nevertheless was a star outfielder with the Boston Red Sox. A third brother, Vince, also played baseball and enjoyed an outstanding career with the Cincinnati Reds, New York Giants, the Pirates, and the Phillies. He hasn’t been inducted, but one certainly hopes that he will someday.

There are more heroes than we have space to talk about here. Suffice to say, almost all of the sports are represented, Baseball, Figure Skating, Tennis, Swimming, Golf, Basketball, Track, Horse Racing, and Boxing.

The Hall of Fame makes it clear that the Bay Area has produced more than its share of sports heroes.

Technorati Tags: Kezar Stadium,Frankie Albert,Max Baer,The DiMaggio Brothers,John Brodie,Bay Area Sports Hall of Fame