Kid Stuff: Fall 2011

Libby's Halloween Loot

Ethan's LSU jello

LSU Jello closeup. Grape + Lemon. Yum.

Libby's Sistine Chapel project

Sistine Chapel

Sistine Chapel open

Ethan at the Geography Fair

A Well-Earned Victory

Libby Sewing

Chicago Pics: Architectural Adornments

Milwaukee Pics: Beauty, Blight, and Bikes

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vinyl From The Edge of Oblivion, Part III

Let’s kick off 2011 with a few goodies from my recent raids of the recycling center.

Wakkawakkawakkawakkawakka…

This lady knows how to throw a serious elbow.

I think this perfectly illustrates the true meaning of Christmas.

I love the juxtapostion of these next two. Songs for guys to sing during the long haul.

I am a huge Rockwell King fan, and was very psyched to find this LP. For those who aren’t familiar with Rock (which is probably everyone), he’s been playing mind blowing boogie woogie piano punctuated with stand up comedy bits for over 50 years at the SandBar in West Dennis, MA. Here’s a sample.

I love the caricature of Sgt. Bilko and I’m a sucker for cutout designs.

Another comedy piece from the 60s, though I have my doubts about its hilariousness.

Nobody can comb hair like the Killer.

I got a bunch of these Ed Sullivan Presents LPs. This was my favorite. Must be the Scot in me channeling my inner tartan.

Philly-Hershey Pix

Here are some pics from our recent trip to Philadelphia and Hershey, PA.

Cheesesteak!

Take me out to the ballgame!

Hot dog cannon? Genius.

Water ice. Yum!

The view from the cheap seats.

We needed a few more of these that night.

A beautiful ballpark.

Independence Hall, where they worked on the Declaration of, uh, I forget. Something important, I’m sure.

Note the original spelling.

A boy and a bell.

Hope they saved the receipt.

On the trolley tour.

Franklin’s grave. The man makes $3000/yr in pennies.

From the Antique Auto Museum. When a trunk was really a trunk.

And a horn was really a horn.

Is this a car or a chair you can drive? Either way, I want one.

Love the stoner headlights on the 1930 DuPont.

And the Art Deco bumper on the 1935 Brewster.

I bet this hood ornament weighs 10 pounds.

Nothing says 1950s like stainless steel cars.

Mr. Arc Welder.

One gorgeous go-cart by Briggs and Stratton.

Loved the diner.

iPod’s great great great grandfather.

Get on the bus.

Negro baseball league bus.

Women’s baseball league bus.

Forrest Gump bus.

The Hershey Kissmobile. Hope it’s full of chocolate.

A trip to Zoo America.

Cupcakes!

It’s the milk chocolate!

Nice to be back in the old cabin.

Charlie perfects the stretch n’ text.

Like brother and sister.

The kids.

Jill and Brian.

Requiem For A Hernia

Or Thoughts On Pain, Illness, Recovery, and Disposable Razors

Now that I am nearly recovered from major abdominal surgery for a retroperitoneal hernia, I felt the urge to compile a few observations from one of the weirdest times of my life. Went to sleep just fine one night, woke up in agony at 3AM. Then, a trip to the ER, testing, diagnosis, surgery, hospitalization, and six weeks on the road back to normal. Ready? Here goes.

Having your small bowel squeezed and twisted to the point of total blockage feels like slow motion hari kari.

One positive side effect: it is the total cure for attention deficit disorder. Your focus will be as sharp and as clear as a flawless diamond. You may wish you could think about anything else, but it is impossible.

On the other hand, context is everything. Waiting for hours in an emergency room, in excruciating pain is quite tolerable when you see in front of you 1) plane crash victims, 2) children who were in a car crash and are now waiting for a helicopter to fly them to Boston, and 3) you overhear the phrase “open sternum.” Yeah, doc, take your time, I’m good.

When you have a condition that is 100% fatal without surgery, you lose any nostalgia for living in another time period. Keep your Ancient Rome, your Renaissance, your Old West.  I’ll take a sterile operating room and anesthesia any day of the week.

Severe, inescapable pain could drive a person batshit insane in a very short amount of time. The urge to run in circles, screaming becomes almost overwhelming. I was thisclose to doing the Batusi.

If you are ever offered a “breakthrough” dose of morphine, take it. And enjoy.

If you are ever told you need a NG (nasal-gastric) tube, brace yourself for the longest 5 seconds of your life. For me, it was like having a live wire jammed through my sinuses and being yelled at repeatedly to swallow it until it reached my stomach. How the tears did flow.

However, that same NG tube will become your best friend, gently removing disturbing quantities of unspeakably nasty fluids from you so that you can go about your business without power retching.

Oh, and by the way, if they want to put something called Hurricane Spray up your nose first, I recommend you politely decline. Imagine being water-boarded with a mix of Kool-Aid and WD-40. Or snort some cherry-flavored mace. Mmm, taste the burn.

Unless you went to med school, you do not speak doctor. Doctors may sound like they’re using the same language as you, but they’re not. They may speak slowly, clearly, and even show you pictures and diagrams. But you simply lack the necessary vocabulary. So when they describe the details of a major operation, you will hear, “I repaired your [thing] by [doing a thing], then [another thing], so the [thing] that’s attached to [the thing] no longer [does the bad thing].”

If you ever have to consider your mesentery, you have a problem. Didn’t even know you had something called a “mesentery”? Good for you.

A week out from abdominal surgery, you may closely resemble a caveman who had a bad encounter with a saber-toothed cat: unshaven, unwashed, half-naked, semi-literate, with a gash in your gut.

Or maybe Alan from The Hangover, minus the beads.

I can deal with the scars (not like I have much choice) but if I’d known I was going to wake up with Frankenbelly, I would’ve taken one last look at the original equipment.

You can lose weight insanely fast on a Gatorade and Ensure diet and not feel like you’re missing out on much. In fact, after two weeks on the stuff, a trip to the grocery store may leave you feeling like solid food is creepy and not to be trusted.

Of all the flavors I was re-introduced to along with solid food, salt was the most amazing. I’ll never forget that first potato chip. The chip was like the moon and I was Neil Armstongue. One giant leap for mouthkind.

I watched a LOT of sci-fi while lying down this past month. Here’s the awards, which I call The Hernys.

Saddest: Moon

Insanest: A Boy and His Dog

Most Underrated: Dragonslayer

The “Everything Came From This” Award: Metropolis

Most Irritating: Innerspace

Treehugginest: Silent Running

Funniest (unintentional): The 4D Man

Funniest (intentional): The Fly (1986)

Most Shatneriffic: Star Trek II.

Most Spocktastic: Star Trek IV.

Finally, when I was able to resume hobbies like personal grooming, I quickly discovered that I got a closer, faster shave with the single-blade disposable razor provided by the hospital than I did with the overpriced 5-blade contraption I have at home. TV lied to me again. One. Single. Blade. That’s all you need, my friends. The rest is marketing.

Well, there you have it. Now, ‘scuse me while I go find that long lost shaker of salt.

Seattle Stroll

Pics from my 7 hour stroll thru the streets of Seattle with J.C. Tremblay, 5/15/10

The first of many beasties I shot that day.

Say “cheese.”

Some random local landmark. The name of which escapes me.

We wandered into a cheese festival. Awesome! This man’s parmesan won the Best Cheese in America.

Pike Place: cool hats by a local artist.

Pike Place: gorgeous flowers by the bucketful.

Pike Place: sea creatures on ice, for a price.

The Arctic Club Hotel. Guarded by an army of walruses.

The scotsman in me was almost tempted. Wonder if they carry my tartan…

The good Chief.

Denizen of Pioneer Square.

The Underground Tour. Tour guide Amy was great.

The view from under the sidewalk.

Seattle’s original water pipes (aka hollowed out logs).

Me and one of the locals.

They do love their totems, don’t they?

Me at the oasis.

The SciFi museum & monorail.

SciFi museum detail.

Mt. Whatsitsname.

The best $2.50 I ever spent: to get from Downtown to the airport in an immaculate train. Seattlites I hope you realize how good you have it.

Old, er, “Vintage” Crap, er, “Items”

Yes, I collect lots of old crap. What can I say? I like it. Here’s a pile of it.

Click on the image for a high res version. See if you can do a Blade Runner “enhance” to spot the hidden Beatles album hanging in the room.

Santa Hat Pancakes

Top Ten Demented Holiday Records

I doubt it would surprise anyone who knows me to find out that I was once a card carrying member of the Dr. Demento fan club. Back before the dawn of time (OK, the early 80′s) I used to tape the shows and listen to them till my cassettes died. One of my favorite shows was the Christmas show at the end of each year. Now those songs are on an iPod instead of a Panasonic cassette player, but I love them just as much if not more. So here are my all time favorite deee-mented holiday records.

10. Christmas Time (Is Here Again) – Beatles

The four lads at the top of their game. Bursting with the weird wit and wordplay of John, before it grew avant garde incomprehensible (thanks, Yoko). It’s Python before there was Python.

9. What Can U Get a Wookie For Christmas – Meco

Painful! Like the Star Wars Holiday Special. The audio equivalent of a toothache you can’t stop poking with your tongue. And yet, I listen to it every year. Help. Bonus trivia: Jon Bon Jovi on the LP, singing “R2-D2 We Wish You A Merry Christmas.”

8. Santa Claus and His Old Lady – Cheech and Chong

Gave a whole new spin to “Santa’s magic dust.”

7. Dominck the Donkey – Lou Monte

Eee-aw, eee-aw!

6. Christmas Dragnet – Stan Freeberg and Daws Butler

Two of the the greatest voices in comedy crack the case of proving there really is a Santy Claus for old man Grudge.

5. Chanukah Song – Adam Sandler

I’m not a Sandler fan, but I have to give it up for anyone rhyming “Veronica” with Chanukah”.

4. Daddy’s Christmas – Albert Brooks and Little Kristi

I liked this one as a kid; love it as a dad. Only Albert Brooks could deliver the line, “I wonder if through sheer stupidity children aren’t just as smart as any grown up,” and you know he’s right.

3. The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Boogie) – Canned Heat

If the straight-up Chipmunk Christmas Song gets under your skin, this is the antidote. Canned Heat rips into a blistering riff that drowns out Alvin and Co. But a little something gets passed around the studio that helps the little rodent “get with it,” and all is well.

2. I Was Santa Claus for the PTA – Yogi Yorgesson/I Yust Go Nuts at Christmas – Yogi Yorgesson

Yogi Yorgesson (aka Harry Stewart) had a group of Christmas novelty records in the 40′s and 50′s. These two vintage slices of Christmas cheer bring to mind holidays from a simpler time, but they’re yust as funny as dey ver all dos years ago.

1. The Twelve Gifts of Christmas – Allan Sherman

Put this one on and it’s Christmas in Camelot with JFK’s favorite musical funny man. Someday I’m going to ask Santa for a Nakashuma Mark IV Japanese transistor radio with the leatherette case. Till then, I’ll just keep asking for “all that other stuff.”

Happy Holidays to all and to all a Demented Night.