Category: blogging

Free Association, the headcold version

In my internet wanderings over the weekend, I stumbled across LunaNiña.com, and the weekly feature Unconscious Mutterings.

It’s simply a good old-fashioned bit of free association, used to learn something more about a (usually troubled) person.

So what the heck, I’m usually troubled, why not play along?

Here we go…

  1. Limited :: Yeah, that reminds me of that really great store in the mall from when I was a youth. I loved The Limited, used to buy all my clothes there. Is that place even open anymore? A quick Google search says yes. That’s so out of my demographic anymore…

  2. Zombie :: Braaiiiiiins! Braaaaaains! Or, what I looked like this morning with a face puffy from a headcold and a red, raw nose. Tiiiiisssue! Tiiiiisssue!

  3. Energy :: As in, I have none

  4. Proof :: Proof? You want proof? I don’t gotta prove nothing to no one!

  5. Hassle :: I’m saying! Don’t hassle me about proof. I’ll give you proof when I’m damn good and ready! (don’t mind me, it’s the fever talking)

  6. Peep :: Does anyone actually like and eat those marshmallow Peeps? They must, because the stores are filled to the ceilings full of those vibrant hued sticky blobs. Look, I love sugar as much as the next guy, but those things are gross. Give me a Cadbury egg any day of the week!

  7. Jogger :: Which is what I’ll need to become if I keep snarfing down the Cadbury treats.

  8. Hunt :: Where in the hell did I put the TV remote? I swear to god I think The Good Man took it. I’ll whup a knot on his head! Don’t make me hunt you down! Oh…there it is, under my left buttock. I can’t help it, I’m sick. : cue the pitiful music :

  9. Career :: I hope I still have one after being sick three times in seven months. My boss is very patient, but this morning he said “You are sick *again*?” Yeah…..

  10. Plants :: The plants are digging the sun. All the little leaves and buds are alive and kicking. Spring is springing up everywhere, I love it! Not that I can enjoy it today as I’m on the couch snuffling and feeling sorry for myself. : sad trombones :


Ok, ok…enough of that….. I seem to be stuck on a meme, and not a very good one.

Onward into the day. Waiter, I’ll take a bathtub full of Theraflu…nighttime flavor.

Oooh yeaah.

Today’s incoherent ramblings brought to you by:




Time, Time, Time, See What’s Become Of Me

Remember back in the day when computers were brought to the desktop of every office worker? These funky machines came with the promise of less manual tasks and thus, more time!

More time! What an awesome benefit.

You know how when you get a good raise, you first think to yourself, “This is great! My expenses will stay the same and I’ll bank the difference of this new paycheck.”

But then you don’t. You manage to find a way to expand to use up every single dollar of that new pay.

Yeah. It’s like that with all the “found time” that computers brought to my world.

Right now time is the scarcest and most valuable resource I have.

There are only 24 hours in a day to spend.

I use eight of them sleeping.

Another three or so on getting ready, eating, travel time between destinations, dealing with a yowling cat, hugging The Good Man, etc.

And twelve sitting in front of a computer screen working my buns off on a massive project at work.

Let’s see…twelve plus eight is twenty…plus three is twenty three….

That leaves, uh, yeah, one hour in the day where I can just skive off (as the British say) and have some fun.

One hour to write, and craft, and think, and read a book, and just sit for a moment and look at the sky and daydream.

One hour. Sixty small minutes.

That’s not very much. I’d best use it wisely.

What got me thinking about this today?

The ten minutes I sat, waiting, on an open conference call bridge waiting for my perpetually absentminded sales rep.

I only gave it ten, then I got back to work.

I’m a little bit aggrieved about that ten minutes. Especially since I wolfed down lunch in order to make that call in time.

And now I’m indigested.

*sigh*

This should get better by end of April. That’s a looooong thirty days.





And for all you smarty pants out there, yes, I found time to write this blog post. I used the hour I WOULD have spent on that conference call. Found time! Yesssss!


Photo by Chris Gilbert and used royalty free from stock.xchng.


I bet I think this blog post is about me….

On this happy, happy oh-holy-sheet-that-was-a-long-week Friday, I’m going to ask you, my dear readers, to head on over to a different blog.

Check out my buddy Alan Macfarlane’s blog Air Balls and Air Guitar.

He’s posted his next in a series of interviews called “Who are the people in your Twitterhood?”

This week, Alan and I sit down for a chat. His questions are great. My answers are long winded.

That tends to happen when two writers get together: A preponderance of words.

And by that I mean, I had A LOT of fun.

Thank you Alan! And have a great weekend.


Keep The Shiny Side Up

A few weeks back, I talked about my friend Johnny Nitro and his untimely passing.

As grief will do, the sadness tends to ebb and flow. About more than I can bear today, not so bad tomorrow, then out of nowhere I’m down in it again.

I guess that’s the thing about the blues.

Over the weekend I finally slowed down a bit from this crazy job and had some time to devote a few brain cycles to my actual life. Of course my thoughts went back to my friend Johnny.

There is a memorial for him coming up next weekend at The Saloon, San Francisco’s oldest continually operating bar. It’s a dive, but what a beautiful dive it is. The very fibers of the walls are soaked in beer and cigarette smoke and some of the meanest, dirtiest, rawest blues music in the world.

Johnny played regular Friday and Sunday nights there, so there can be no other more perfect venue.

While I was Googling about, I found a tribute page to Johnny on Facebook. From there, someone had linked to a blog that he had been working on over the past couple years. There’s only about fifteen or sixteen posts, but all of them are pure Nitro gold.

I read this one and knew for sure I had to re-blog this. I know that if I’d asked Johnny for permission, he’d say yes, so with much love to my blues buddy, please enjoy his words.

Johnny was on a riff talking about what it’s like to be a musician on the road. You’ll pick it up from there:

_________________

The show must go on! Everybody’s heard that old adage before. Well, if that’s gonna happen you’alls gotta get there. Sometimes you gotta use a little creativity in that department. Case in point: Once long ago on the way to a gig, we was drivin’ this old Ford station wagon from the 1970’s that belonged to the bass player. Everything was loaded up on top and in the thang! (We were probably loaded too!) And wouldn’t ya know it, the throttle cable broke, snap, and the gas pedal wouldn’t work. Well, we coasted into a gas station and I opened the hood for a look! Sure ’nuff, it was the throttle cable! Here we were miles from the gig and no parts store in sight. Oh boy! What to do? Well, after the panic subsided I started a closer inspection of the broken cable to see if there was a way to fix this one. As I gently pulled the broken cable out of its tube, I noticed it was very similar to a low “E” string from my guitar. I quickly grabbed a spare one and checked the length. Yep! The guitar string was long enough! I lubed up the string with oil from the dip stick, slipped it into the tube, managed to tie it to the loops on the gas pedal and the carburetor… and voila! It worked!! Well, we made it to the gig with plenty of time to chase groupies (remember those?) and the “E” string worked so well that Cowboy, our bass player, drove it jury rigged like that for three our four weeks while the new part was ordered from Detroit!

_________________


Now that’s a bit of bluesman handyman skill right there. I’ve heard a lot of stories over the years how guitar strings came in handy for quick fix its, but I have to say, that story is the best.

In another story from the road, Johnny talks about how to get along with your fellow bandmates while trapped in the car together. He wraps up the story with this:


_________________

And one last thing: When they ask YOU to drive the van, drive it all crazy – and then they’ll never ask you “Drive” again.

_________________


Which made me laugh out loud for a couple reasons. One, Johnny drove all crazy on a good day. And two, I can just see Johnny pulling this. That’s pure Nitro right there.

I can’t say I’m actually looking forward to the memorial next week. I don’t know how to exist in the world where Johnny isn’t playing The Saloon on Sunday. That’s how I always knew if the world went topsy turvy I could find my way back to level.

On Sunday I’ll walk in there and he won’t be there.

And yet, he will.

Finally, here’s a special Johnnyism that I believe I should add to the signature line of my emails at work:


_________________

As always this is Johnny Nitro saying “keep yer tits to wind and keep the shiny side up!” Ride!

_________________

Riiiiiide.





Photo by Scott Palmer, taken at the 2000 Rumsey Blues festival.

What’s The Point?

It’s a cold rainy day in the Bay Area today and the ubiquitous “they” seem to think we’re going to have snow today, maybe even in the middle of San Francisco.

Snow? Here? Gah! The Bay Area will lose its ever loving mind.

But that’s not the point.

Today I’m angry, pissy, hostile and downright grumpy. My right wrist still hurts so much it wakes me up at night. I took my gimp to the doctor lady and she fitted me into a wrist brace. This @$%#ing thing limits my movement (doing its job, I suppose) and it is frustrating!

When I rip the thing off then my wrist hurts double. And I get angrier.

I don’t like being weak and showing my weakness. I’m the gazelle that the lions will go for first! The limping one!

But really, neither my gimpy wrist nor my offbeat psychosis are the point.

Apparently I’m a brute when I write. I love using felt tip pens but mush them to nothingness within a week or two. All of my Sharpies are not a bit sharp. I just threw out a whole handful.

I am anal about only using pencils that have a very sharp point, but they either break or go nubby within a few sentences. And mechanical pencils! Sheesh. Anything less than a sturdy .5 size and I’m snapping the lead off left and right!

My kingdom for a good sturdy point!

But the point isn’t really the point either.

I’ve been watching the complete Boston Legal series lately. The Good Man got the set for Christmas and we both adore the show.

I love when Alan Shore goes on a riff and a judge cuts him off with a “you’ve made your point, counselor.”

Once, in the middle of a somewhat terse discussion with The Good Man, when he was Alan Shore-ing me, I dropped that phrase on him. In a snotty tone.

Needless to say, that didn’t go well.

I’ve not used it since.

My “you’ve made your point” isn’t really the point, either.

“It’s rude to point” you hear, ad nauseum, when you are a kid. I mean, when you are pre-verbal isn’t pointing sort of the only way you can get your meaning across?

Besides, is there anything cuter than a little baby exploring the world and pointing one chubby hand at something fascinating and looking to you for your response?

I think not. So I think it should be amended to “it’s rude to point, unless you are under two and awfully adorable, then it’s all good.”

Rules: made to be flexed!

But talking about pointing isn’t really the point.

So, what exactly IS the point?

Today’s Theme Thursday is point, and while I’ve got a lot of quick thoughts, none of them are very coherent.

I guess my point is…this is an entire blog post that doesn’t really have a point.

Cheers to my pointlessness! For the vague shall inherit the Earth.






Photo found several places on the net but unable to find attribution. Will include attribution or remove at the request of the owner.