Monday, January 04, 2010

Thong the Barbarian Meets the Cycle Sluts of Saturn



Eighteen or twenty or so years ago, my collaborator Reaves and I went slightly mad and wrote a novella making fun of Doc Smith, H.P. Lovecraft, and Robert E. Howard, all at the same time.

We managed to con Dean Wesley Smith, the publisher at Pulphouse into buying it. Alas, the story became a magazine-killer -- Pulphouse, despite far and away being the best magazine in the field, came upon hard times and passed on. Cash-flow problems, and it took Dean years to make good the debuts, but he finally did.

So Reaves and I would amuse ourselves by taking the ms to science fiction conventions and reading sections of it aloud. Once, we alternated pages at an Orycon, and as you might imagine from the title, the tone of this tale is such that much merriment, and perhaps even a little pants-wetting amongst the audience came to pass as we did it.

Neither of us were able to keep a straight face as we read.

At that con, Don Alquist heard us, and determined that he wanted to publish the beast, which after engaging an artist -- Daniel Conan Young -- who managed to match our tone dead-on with his illustrations, he did. Publish it.

The book came out in a limited edition, in three forms: The dust-jacketed hardback, for $35, and two leather-bound versions, one in blue limited to 26 copies, the other in red, of which there were but ten. They cost more.

All of these are collectors' items today. If you can find somebody willing to part with one, it will be a spendy proposition, lemme tell you. It's so rare it's not even on ebay.

I once posted an example of the timeless prose contained between these covers, and I'll repost that here, to give you the flavor:

Our Hero is beset by tavern slackwits, who speak to a certain fecal odor about Thong in his ratty direwolf skin cloak while his assistant, Sandol, is off giving an offering to the Goddess
Peristali.

Thong's response to the tavern-scum, who have been identified as One-Eyed Dick, Bwuce, and Gap-Tooth:

"Methinks it is no more than the remnants of your most recent meal on your own upper lips that you smell," Thong said menacingly. There, that ought to do it.

"'He insults us!" One-eyed Dick ejaculated as he reached for his sword.

"'He does?" Bwuce asked questioningly. Despite his puzzlement, however, he too pulled his blade free.

"'You will die, bawbawian!'" said Gap-tooth tertiarily.

Now Thong did sigh.

By the time Sandol returned from his visit to the nightchamber, Thong was wiping the last of the blood from Asschopper upon Gap-tooth's cloak ...

I mention this only because it occurred to me that this would make a great title for the Kindle or Nook. I'm going to see if our publisher is interested ...

Real News


Enough with all this war, famine, pestilence, movie box office stuff. Time for some real news:


Apparently, the local Mickey D's in Toledo, Ohio, was out of McNuggets. When informed of this, a twenty-four-year old woman apparently became so enraged that she punched out the drive-through window. She was treated for her injuries and arrested for vandalism.

Now that is a jones. No McNuggets?! Aaaaiiieee -- ! Taste the Fist of Death!

Sunday, January 03, 2010

For Those Who Like to Keep Score


Avatar's worldwide grosses will top a billion dollars by the end of the weekend -- after three weeks in release.

A billion dollars.

That will soon give James Cameron the #1 and #2 box office records -- Titanic and Avatar. It's become a cultural phenomenon -- something to talk about around the water cooler.

Doesn't surprise me at all.

Note: I've been taken -- gently -- to task for flacking this movie.

Let me explain why I liked it:

First, a few observations: "Original," "science fiction," "movie," and "successful" don't belong in the same sentence. If you can point to an SF movie with all four of those in the last, oh, twenty-five or thirty years, please do. But speak carefully -- I've been reading and watching this stuff a long time and I will point out where I think we we part company on that view. Like Forbidden Planet? A direct steal from Billy Shakespeare's little play, The Tempest. The Matrix? H.G. Wells. Star Wars? Half the samurai movies ever made. Aliens? Half the monster movies ever made.

I could go on all day. Hit me with your best shot.

Second, while Cameron may have swiped the plot lock, stock, and barrel from Poul Anderson, it wasn't original with Poul, either. The uncover agent who goes native has been around a long time. They were using that term in Gunga Din, weren't they? (Rory mentions Kim, and that dates from 1901, and was a book that much influenced SF writers in the forties and fifties, when Poul was getting into the field. Not even to mention Fenimore Cooper's Leatherstocking tales, The Deerslayer and The Last of the Mohicans Terribly-written books, these, but still.)

And we all of us who toil in the word mines of literature fantastique swipe stuff from those have gone before. Some of us are blatant about it. Some less so. Some even do it unconsciously, but do it, we certainly do.

If you want to point out a successful science fiction novel over the last, oh, twenty-five or thirty years that is totally original, successful, etc. lay it on me. Did I mention there were only three plots? Good luck finding a new one.

Those of you who lament the dialog in Avatar, let me point out that Star Wars, Star Trek, Terminator, Forbidden Planet, The Day the Earth Stood Still, et al, aren't any better, and in some cases much worse. It doesn't matter. They ain't doing Ibsen.

You need to look at this in context, which is what I do, and why I liked Avatar.

It's a few things: Taste is one. Commercially helping the field is another. Being taken some place you've never been? Big plus.

You don't go to a Cameron movie to be surprised by the story. It's not his forte. Nor is it the strength of science fiction filmmakers in general. Never has been.

Who I am and what I do and what I know, I never expect to be surprised by a genre story by any moviemaker. Only three plots, remember?

Every SF&F movie you see today is old, old stuff. They were writing it before I was born and I grew up reading and watching it.

If they write to surprise me, they are going to leave most of the rest of the audience scratching their heads and wondering what the fuck just happened?

I take that into account.

I don't expect science fiction or fantasy on a screen to knock me down with a new twist. Since it always borrows ideas that are cliches in the literature, I don't carry that one into the theater. It's not a matter of setting the bar low, but recognizing that's where it must be set to get a viable audience. If only the hardcore fans go to see it, your movie tanks.

So I see SF&F movies for the ride, and if there is a good story, that's gravy. There was enough story in Avatar for me. No surprises, but I didn't expect any. Nor would it have been smart to make it a hardcore SF picture. If you want to reach a big audience -- and you need to reach it to make your money back -- you have to slow down for the stragglers. This is why the Matadors haven't made me rich -- I don't stop and explain stuff -- if you can't keep up, go read something else. This was a conscious choice and I knew when I made it that it was gonna limit my audience.

That so many non-SF&F fans are going to come out of the theater grinning is really good for our biz. Star Wars and Star Trek opened up big opportunities for writers because people who tried those were, some of them, willing to try something else. They weren't good SF, either. If a science fiction picture blows the doors off the theaters, if Cameron makes a shitload of money, then he helps lift us all, just like Harry Potter did for fantasy and Twilight did for vampires. (When the later Harry Potter books were published, people went out at midnight and stood in lines for hours waiting to get into bookstores. I couldn't even imagine such a thing happening.)

This kind of success slops over onto everybody, at least a little. If they'll go see Trek or Avatar, maybe some of them will move on to Phil Dick or Zelazny. Or me.

I was amazed by the EFX, and that is what this picture gives to an audience. People who say, "Oh, yeah, I like the box the movie came in." are completely missing the point. You can't get this ride in a book. And nobody else has come close to what Cameron put up on the screen. It was a Holy shit! experience visually, and for an audience who had no notion of what Gaia is, it presented a concept as novel as The Matrix did for Maya. I thought The Matrix sucked, storywise, but I'm a working writer in the field. They didn't write it for me.

They didn't write Avatar for me. Or the adult you, either. "Childlike" is not the same as "childish."

Reach back into your memory to find that sense of wonder you had as a kid. Go look at it as if you were twelve years old. That's who they wrote it for -- the youngster stoked on his or her sensawunda.

Saturday, January 02, 2010

Siblings of the Shroud - Input

The Shroud
(Wyman/Jones)

Been fun to watch people pick up the ball and run with it, viz. the showrunners/Enforcers of the Musashi Flex. Some good ideas there, and I appreciate folks taking the time to offer them. Tickles me.

That said, I don't want anybody to get too upset if I don't go down any of those roads. Knapp's character came to me pretty much all of a piece -- there are a couple of fun twists I'm doing with her -- and while there should be enough about her job to see the outlines of it, the light is not going to be too bright; thus much of the organizational side of things won't be illuminated. Just as I was somewhat hazy on exactly how the scoring for the Flex works, I'm going to avoid getting too detailed about the internal workings. And the input on the announcement that I was doing this book is the reason why:

If I leave some blank spots, readers will fill them in -- and that's part of what I like to do as a writer. I want my readers to participate in painting the picture. Less work for me -- well, sometimes not -- but more satisfying for them. Unlike watching a move or a TV show, reading fiction is not a passive activity, it should be active.

Sometimes, less makes it more so.

Now and again, after watching a movie, my wife will wonder what happened to the character after the story was over. I usually offer how I'd do it, were it mine to fool with, and come up with a through-line that I -- and she -- would find satisfying.

Oh, no, he didn't die. He recovered, moved away, found a good woman, got married, settled down, and now teaches yoga and runs a market specializing in organic produce ...

I'm probably not going to stop my usual screwing-with-the-reader by dropping in bits that connect to other books. Or using character names that echo from elsewhere. Or sometimes not-so-subtle clues to connections among the characters that go past the bounds of coincidence.

Some of you get those, and I get to grin when you ask about them. Sometimes, nobody catches them, or at least they don't mention it to me. I'm always a little disappointed when that happens.

I try to offer an accessible level for everybody, but now and then, some treats for those who look a little past the surface. I wouldn't go so far as to call it subtext, but now and again, there's is a little more going on than meets the less-critical eye.

Shadows of the Empire is filled with these. Most of the minor character names have something else going on with them. Most SW's fans don't notice, nor do they care. I had one guy send me a letter detailing almost every one of them: When I said this, did I mean that? I loved it.

Many of the people, places, and things in the Matador books have meanings in other languages that make some of my readers smile. Me, too, when I wrote it.

(And for those of you who weren't paying attention during the most recent of that series, The Musashi Flex, you could have discovered something amusing about Luna Azul and Lazlo Mourn from a big fat clue I offered. If you missed it, I'll point it out in SOTS, but if you can't wait, you'll just have to go back and re-read it ...

Friday, January 01, 2010

Happy New Rear

So we went to a New Year's Eve party at the home of a couple we've known for a long time. The guests were all folks who are also old friends -- literally, since I was the youngest guy in the room, save for a couple.

Good food, good wine, good conversation. We brought six pounds of boiled shrimp and my homemade cocktail sauce and it seemed to be well-received. They ate it all. (Recipe: Three parts ketchup to one part yellow mustard; one part horse radish sauce, one-to-two parts lemon juice, dashes of Tabasco Sauce, soy sauce, and maple syrup, to taste.)

Several of the party-goers elected to stay over for a New Year's Day breakfast -- there were spare beds and rollaways scattered hither and yon, in a condo that is maybe four times as big as my house. Those folks got pretty plowed since they didn't have to drive. I nursed a glass of really good wine, and had half a flute of champagne at midnight to toast the new year, but since we were driving home, I kept it light.

Always fun to be sober in a room full of happy drunks, and all of them were that. Sweet people.

The hosts passed out copies of the Oregon Writer's Colony fundraiser calendar, in which I was Mr. October. This was cause for much merriment, hoots, and hollers ...

We clicked on the TV just before midnight and watched Dick Clark for the countdown in NYC -- delayed for our time zone. Jennifer Lopez's skintight spangled cat-suit was fun, but --

-- Clark, born in 1929, had a visage so smooth that it would put a baby's butt to shame. He had a stroke a few years back, and obviously some plastic surgery since, and it was spooky seeing an eighty-year-old man without a wrinkle on his forehead. You could bounce quarters off his face. His voice was not good, and you have to give him credit for trying, but it was kind of sad to see the world's oldest teenager trying so hard to hang on.

Of course, the alternative is Ryan Seacrest ...

Thursday, December 31, 2009

Techno-Whoops

For about ten years, one of my handguns has been equipped with Crimson Trace grips. For those of you who might not know, these are laser sights, though that is something of a misnomer. You don't really get a sight-picture, you look downrange for a little red dot, and in dim lighting or darkness, these things offer a really fast way to see where the bullet will hit.

Also means the housebreaker who had plans to come in and cut your throat while you slept who looks down and sees a little red spot centered on his chest knows where the bullet is about to go. Might give him pause.

For a long time, laser sights for handguns were iffy, at best. One worried about the batteries dying at the wrong moment, the laser going kaput at the wrong moment, or it being a bright and sunny summer day and not being able to see the dot. You still had the sights, but there would be that second of searching for the dot before you realized it wasn't there and shifted back to manual. That could be a bad mistake.

For those reasons, I held off getting one.

Eventually, they got better reviews, so I broke down and did it, and for a decade, mine worked fine. Squeeze the grip, there was the red spot.

It was a good tool for checking on your point-shooting hold. Bring the empty revolver up to where you thought you were on-target, then light the laser to see if you were.

I replaced the battery after about six years, though it was still working.

But the other day while I was mink-oiling the holster, I checked the laser and it was dead.

Oh, well, needs a new battery. But -- no. New battery didn't make it come back to life. Probably the switch, or maybe the wiring, and eventually maybe I'll pull it apart to fiddle with.

Of course, what it made me realize was that the old-fashioned way of using the sights had some advantages, too. They don't burn out. And if it is so dark I can't see the sights, I can index the whole gun. (If it is so dark I can't see the gun? Chances are the bad guy and I can't see each other, either ...)

So, it's back to the wooden boot-grips and grandpappy's method.

Happy New Year

I posted these links a couple years back, but in the hopes that the coming year will bring peace and prosperity to you and yours, couple of hits of uplifting music:

First from Maggie, Terri, and Suzzy -- the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel's Messiah.

Then Trace Bundy and Sungha Jung doing Pachelbel's Canon in D.

Whatever your faith or religious beliefs, there has been some outstanding music written for God. I dunno if He appreciates it, but I sure as hell do ...



Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Serendipity


So I was re-reading The Musashi Flex, because Siblings of the Shroud is a direct sequel and I need to remember what I said. And I came across a throwaway reference to the Enforcers -- the people who deal with Flex players who violate the rules of the game.

Huh, I thought. There's an interesting idea. How skilled does an Enforcer have to be? I wondered. Given as how they are the ones who take out expert martial artists who need to be taken out, I'd expect they'd have to be fairly adept.

Opened up a whole new line of wonder, that notion.

And as a result of coming across that bit, we'll see at least one of those as a character in the upcoming book.

Brave New World


Backscatter


Millimeter Wave

So the Dutch are going to require all U.S. bound airline passengers to submit to a full body scan. Story here. Remember that scene in Total Recall, the all-the-way-t0-the-skeleton imagery?

Current models feature backscatter-radiation and millimeter wave units, and amount to a virtual strip-search, as you can see from the images above.

Of course, the authorities say, to protect privacy, operators will be in a room where they can't see the people being scanned. The images won't be recorded. And new software will stylize the images so nobody really sees anything like grampa's willie or little brother's pee-pee ...

Right. Uh huh.

How long, you figure, before those images start making their way onto the net?

Alt.binaries.naked.airline-passengers ... ?

In the U.K., they won't do it to children, because if you scan somebody underage, it constitutes child-pornography -- and the idea of paying some guy to sit in a room looking at nude images of little children is unsettling. Wonder who will apply for that job?

The laws about such things are in something of an upheaval anyway. If a fourteen-year-old girl sexts a picture of her boobs to her boyfriend from her cell phone, she can be prosecuted for child pornography.

I don't want to be blowed up real good on a jetliner, and I don't care if they scope me when I get on a plane -- seen one, seen 'em all and I'm past the age where that will bother me, but I can see how a lot of people might not want their naked images being drooled over by some minimum wage TSA guy in a back room somewhere. Not even to get into what that radiation might do to you long-term if you fly a lot ...

It's not the Beav and Wally's world any more, folks.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Update

5:20 p.m., atop the wooden fence rail around the front courtyard ...

More:

Towns around us got more, running from two or three to five inches of the white blanket, and it caused major grief for the rush hour commute, since nobody was expecting it and they weren't prepared.

Lot of folks took off from work early -- my wife left her office in downtown Portland at 3:40 p.m. So everybody who would normally leave in shifts -- four, five, five-thirty, six p.m. boogied at once.

They waited too long.

The plows weren't out, no sand or gravel down, and when the traffic hit the inclines on the highways leaving town? Cars, trucks, and buses slid hither and yon, smacked into each other, the barriers, turned sideways, and couldn't move.

The accidents blocked the main roads. Emergency vehicles couldn't get there. The highways became parking lots. The normally twenty to thirty minute commute from Portland to Beaverton took my wife three and a half hours, she got home just after seven p.m. -- and she was lucky.

This was compounded by vehicles stuck unmoving that ran out of gasoline. Or those that were simply abandoned in the middle of the roads by drivers who had to pee or pop after three or four hours. Weren't enough tow trucks to move the parked cars fast enough.

Some folks, seeing the news, decided to have dinner or drinks in town and wait for it to clear out. The snow was supposed to turn to rain later, and it did, but it wasn't enough to wash the streets clean, only turn it into slush. It warmed up -- to 34º F. -- which is not exactly a blowtorch, and it didn't get better.

All eleven p.m., the traffic cams showed the main highways were all still bumper-to-bumper leaving the city, and there were people who stepped out of their their offices at four o'clock who didn't get home until after midnight. Not only could they have walked it faster, they could have crawled it faster.

Road are mostly clear this a.m. though there is still plenty of snow on the ground. Supposed to rain more tonight and tomorrow.

We'll see ...

Weatherman, Part II

Remember what I said about not needing a weatherman in the previous post?

Today's forecast was forty degrees and rain. Currently at Steve's house, it is 32º, and as the picture from my office window shows -- that ain't rain falling. Coming down harder since I shot that image, too.

Not only do you not need a weatherman, you couldn't trust the lying SOB if you had one.

We had a make-up silat class scheduled for this evening. If we were enjoying a tropical downpour, even a hurricane, I'd go, I can drive in that, but I don't do snow in my little car. Too many fools in SUVs who are gonna lose it and maybe smack into me.

I'm ready for summer.

P.S. You'll notice that the hummingbird doesn't look real happy about this, either ...

Monday, December 28, 2009

You Don't Need to be a Weatherman ...

One of the keys to efficiently performing any complex physical activity is the ability to do it relaxed. By this, I don't mean taking a nap sprawled and zoned out on the couch, but without unnecessary and conflicting muscular tension. If you are standing with your knees locked and your leg muscles tight and you want to jump, you have to relax first. If your knees are already bent and your legs relatively-relaxed, you save time and energy if you need to hop.

Most people know this, and you can see it demonstrated any place you care to look. If the guy on the foul line has his shoulders up and tight, you know he is going to toss a brick before it leaves his hand.

Much of training for physical things -- and I'm including martial arts here -- involves trying to achieve this state of just-enough between too-little or too-much.

There are a number of ways folks go about this, but I'm going to speak to two: Repetition and visualization.

You can only walk or ride a bike past the stumbling or wobbling stages once you have done these enough so that you don't have to consciously think about what you are doing. Yes, you can put it on manual and take over, but most of the time, autopilot is better.

Do it enough, you figure out how it feels when you do it right, and you don't need to worry about the kinetics or biomechanics or how gravity works, you just know.

Do the moves often enough and when the punch comes, something will be there.

There are guys who are much into the OODA Loop (Observe, Orient, Decide, Act), but that's only how they explain it, not a conscious and deliberate pattern they go through by the numbers when somebody jumps out of the alley and goes booga-booga! in their faces. That might be what is happening -- and that could just as easily be SSCG -- See, Set, Choose, Go -- or SOGB -- Shit Or Go Blind -- any other combination of words that tell you what is unconsciously going on. The words are the map, not the territory.

When push comes unexpectedly to shove, cognition is stagnation.

If you think, you stink.

Yeah, yeah, we can wrangle about that, but this is what I believe, and I'm on the podium, so I get to finish.

So, you go through moves over and over until you can react to a stimulus without having to know about how the universe was originally formed and then zip from the Big Bang to the task at hand.

Another way to get relaxed, coupled with the practice of waving and stepping, is visualization.

Back when I was doing a brief stint in aikido, thirty years or so ago, there were a series of exercises designed to demonstrate this, such as the unbendable-arm, the unbreakable circle, or the too-heavy-to-lift tricks.

Aikido didn't invent these. There were people doing vaudeville routines a hundred years ago who showed the dead-weight versus live weight stuff quite well. One smallish woman who would stand there and have two large men from the audience try to pick her up and grin while they failed.

As I recall from my aikido days, there were four ways to achieve "dynamic relaxation." 1) Keep one point. 2) Relax completely. 3) Keep weight underside. 4) Extend ki. These were different ways of looking at the same thing, actually, and when you meditated upon them and were able to keep your focus, you could do some pretty impressive stuff with your strength and balance.

Somewhere in the distant past, I came across an article -- a master's thesis, if I recall correctly, from UCLA, that spoke to why such things as the unbendable arm work, from a biomechanical sensibility, no ki involved. There's a tai chi adept I used to see posting online who did some videos showing how rooting worked from a mechanical engineering viewpoint. He also offered a teacher's test, which, if applied to a potential instructor, would tell you if the guy had any real chops. Fascinating stuff.

The aikido visualizations were great as focus tools. "Imagine there is a steel rod as big around as your arm coming from your elbow and buried deeply in the ground. It runs through your arm to your hand, where it branches, so that each of your fingers is a steel rod extending into the ceiling and through the roof. Your arm is held in place by these bars, which are far too strong for any man to bend . Keep this in your mind while I try to bend your arm ..."

The thesis said, "Relax your arm and channel all your focus into your triceps; allow no tension in the antagonist muscles of the biceps ..."

Same effect, if harder to visualize initially for most folks.

Once you knew what it felt like, you could do it without either set of props.

The problem I had was in keeping the focus when somebody was boxing my ears, even in a controlled environment such as a sparring match. Like that Mike Tyson quote -- Everybody has a plan -- until I hit them -- the ability to hold onto that thought was iffy as soon as the dance got active. To get to the level where you could maintain that focus would require a great deal of comfort in one's skills. I think you could do this, but it would be no small task. (And we aren't going into self-hypnosis and the like, which can be helpful.)

I have come to believe that visualization, like djurus or kata, is mostly a training tool. That if you can use it and the repetitions to achieve a relaxed pattern of movement, then that is where it serves best. Just as you won't do a djuru or kata in a real fight, neither will you have the time and wherewithal to do an imaginative visualization wherein your opponent goes flying when you tag him. Unless you have done it so many times you don't need to think about it, in which case it's not a visualization anymore anyhow.

Which brings up the old reliable standby, the Multiple P-Principle: Proper preparation prevents piss-poor performance ...

Now, what that preparation is is a horse of a different color, and all of our mileages are going to vary on that ...

In Hollywood, It's Money That Matters ...


So, as of Sunday night, Avatar's world wide grosses are running $617,000,000. Read Nikki's piece on it here.

Depending on which numbers you like on the production end -- somewhere just above or below $300 million to make, plus nudging another eighty to hundred million to advertise and such, it isn't into profit yet. (The old formula is, although not strictly accurate: P = 2-1/2 x C, where P is profit, and C is production cost. Using this, the movie will have to do over a billion dollars before Cameron gets into high cotton.

That's rare air, only a handful of movies have gotten there. Titanic, LOTR, one of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, and Dark Knight, come to mind. It's already in the top fifty, having blown past Casino Royale, Men in Black, Iron Man and all but forty-seven others ...

Given everybody I know who has seen it is telling friends to go see it, and that world-of-mouth is the best advertising money can't buy, I would guess that the studio is probably sleeping a little easier now.

Lot of industry folks hate Cameron, and a bunch 'em really wanted him to fall flat. They wanted to believe this was gonna tank, becoming an -- pardon the pun -- abysmal failure.

They all said the same thing about Titanic. It's a stupid, schmaltzy, chick-flick, the music sucks, and it won't earn out.

Yeah, they might have been right about everything -- except the last part. Boy, did it earn out. First movie to top a billion in grosses worldwide. Still number one at the box office, ever.

I believe Avatar has, what they call in the biz, legs, and that it will make it into the profit zone. People are going to see it because they like science fiction, or because they feel they have to because it is almost a cultural necessity, just like Titanic was. While it's not a chick-flick, there is a love story, and that part works. Last I checked, about forty percent of the audience was female, and that's way past what action movies normally garner.

Wow

Caught part of a Discovery series last night about climbing Mount Everest. Sixty-six year old American man was one of the climbers, and he made it up and down. (Everest kills one out of twelve climbers, on average, and past the age of sixty, that number goes way up -- four times more likely to croak if you are idiotic enough to attempt it.)

I've always thought these folks were madder than the March Hare, but lacking balls, they ain't.

Then there is this video. Ninety-two years old. Gets to be really fun about a minute and a half in:

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Xmas Present


So, we weren't going to get each other big gifts, my wife and I.

Naturally, she got me one ...

So, now an iPod Touch, which will hold eight million songs plus books and all like that. Go blind trying to read on such a tiny screen, but it's comforting to know that I can have something to read in an emergency. Plus a level, and an electronic badge and a guitar tuner and chord finder, and a flashlight and ...

Great to be living here in the future, ain't it?

Saturday, December 26, 2009

Requiescat in Pace


Above: The Rope, Before

Below: The Rope, After


Three years ago this coming spring, I bought a climbing rope and and looped it over a tree limb in the back yard. This is a good upper body exercise, if you don't push it too much, which, of course, I did. Eventually, I got some gloves and eased off a bit, and got to where I could go up and down it.

Yesterday, the rope broke.

Unfortunately, my son, holding onto the youngest of the grandsons, was swinging on it when the line gave up the ghost.

Fortunately, he landed on his back on the soft earth and vines, and neither he nor the boy were hurt.

This was something of a surprise for all concerned. The rope was a two-inch ship's hawser, good quality hemp. A combination of squirrels and Oregon weather did it in, I think.

When I put it up, back in April of '07, I wrapped the loop and a few inches below it in several layers of duct tape, but it broke just below the wrapping.

Back to the chinning bar. If it lets go, I won't have so far to fall ...

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Happy Christmas to the Matador Fans


(Redacted - you snooze, you lose ...)


A Little Christmas Music

Time Marches On



When I was young, lo these many eons ago, we had in this country a plethora of different kinds of vending machines. They were everywhere -- supermarkets, barber shops, schools. Coin-operated dispensers, mostly junk food -- candy bars, soft drinks, gumballs.

There were also machines that offered real food -- milk, apples, hot chocolate. They didn't get much use where I lived.

Vending machines are still around, of course, much different, but less ubiquitous. (And they were way were cheaper back in the day. Penny for gum, nickel for a candy bar or a coke. We had a coke machine behind the cafeteria at the primary school I attended, the little 6-1/2 oz. bottles, and I recall the time in 3rd grade when the price went up to 6¢, which we thought was criminal. Can you imagine? What highway robbery!)

Those 50's machines are collectibles now. If you can find a Jacobs 56 Pepsi Vendor in good condition, it'll set you back five grand, and restored Coke machines of the same era are also pretty spendy.

I came across the machine below in a Fred Meyer store recently. A quarter for your weight, and it would generate a "lucky lotto" number for you. How does it determine that the number is lucky? I wondered." Plus your daily special message." I didn't go for it, but I also wondered. Is my daily special message the same as for the next guy to stand on the machine? If I coughed up another quarter, would the message be different?

And who would drop a quarter into the thing when they can walk a couple hundred feet to the housewares department wherein they can stand on one of a couple varies of bathroom scale for sale there, for free? No special message or lucky lotto number, though.

Time marches on, and it brings new toys to replace the old ones. Some day, assuming we survive, our great-grandchildren will probably be nostalgic for 2D television sets and computer keyboards ...


Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Video Link


The video for the Las Vegas Seminar last year is available, but I didn't have a proper link to it earlier. I do now.


And I'll put it in my link list, too.