Feels like Friday. I spent the day on the buzz.mn video, so my wife took (G)Nat to the make-up piano lesson. Since piano is a Friday Thang, it amplified the end-of-the-week vibe; when you consider it was actually Tuesday, it’s ridiculous. But sometimes you feel as if you live in Dog Time – anything emblematic of a particular time or event resets the clock. Speaking of which – when we all came home tonight Jasper Dog was angry, because we had supper elsewhere, and he didn’t get scraps. He clicked over to me and sat down and looked up and BARKED.
“No,” I said. “No food.”
He looked at me, then turned around to my wife, who was standing nearby; he looked at her and said BARK. I am long past anthropomorphizing dogs, but it was just like a kid. Dad says no, so let’s try Mom.
Anyway. We met at Perkin’s after piano. While I waited I read a Wall Street Journal about the upcoming Annapolis conference, and noted with sadness that the participants had failed to agree on agreeing to issue a Statement of Principles. Dang. There’s nothing more binding than a Statement of Principles. No one ever goes against those; the shame and dishonor would follow you all your days. And I had such high hopes. At least I thought they’d issue a Statement of Generally Observed Comments About Butterflies, and even if they did so from rooms in the opposite wings of the building, with their backs turned to the press, it would be a sign of hope. Now we have nothing.
Then my family arrived. A clown appeared:
I made growling noises and brandished a fork, and it retreated.
Last night I put up a chatroom at the bottom of the Bleat – another meebo gizmo. Instead of individual messages pinging me all day, I thought it would be a place for rolling conversation about the topics, such as they were, detailed in the Bleat. Within 6 seconds there was a message from someone asking if there were any ladies who wanted to chat. I took it off the main page a few minutes later, but left the room up to see if anyone hit it on the archived page. Just checked the transcript:
18:09] Yella Star: HAHA
[18:09] dario: lo esta haciendo bien
[18:10] Yella Star: gracias
[18:10] Yella Star: quatos anos tienes?
[18:11] dario: 35
[18:11] Yella Star: kdjghadj kjadg
[18:11] Yella Star: tengo 13
[18:11] dario: y tu?
[18:11] Yella Star: HAHAH
[18:11] dario: que linda
(164,392 messages deleted)
[22:47] guest492385: good heavens
[22:48] guest492385: it has been polluted by spam!
[22:48] guest492385: That's what you get for leavin' the barn door open
[22:49] guest492385: I mean, horny guys, spaniards, possibly horny spaniards...
[22:49] guest492385: Great dissertation, by the way.
No matter how small the crack, the mites will invade, and swarm.
Some more “My World And Welcome To It” material. Oddly enough, “Cartoon Brew” picked up on the clip too: synchronicity! (Note also Amid’s new book on UPA is coming out soon; place your orders, if you’re a fan of 50s animation.) In the Strib’s vast old TV promo-photo archives, I found a few:
Joan Hotchkis was his wife. He is turning away from her because he is a standoffish, emotionally crippled egoist a great artist with a keen sense of human absurdity. Another publicity photo:
It’s one of the most interesting minor innovations of the 20th century: artists who cannot draw. For a writer, he did okay, but strip away the myth and you have drawings that look like they were done by someone who taped a pen to the side of his head.
Another day on the web, another bounteous crop of useless but fascinating data. The things you learn. For example:
Carlton the Doorman – aka the late, talented Minnesota-raised Lorenzo Music – put out a 45 record in 1975. Who is it? Who is it? Who’s always holding a brown paper bag?
Shorpy, the incredible site that features gigantic sharp ancient photographs of things urban and human, reveals the extent to which all knowledge is becoming available to all people at all times, instantly. I refer to the third comment.
YouTube inadvertently illuminates a hitherto unknown connection between the worlds of high and low art. Here's a Coast soap ad:
We just learned, from a previous owner of our 150-year old house, that these commercials were filmed in our bedroom and bathroom. There's supposedly another one, filmed with a black actor? Coast Soap shares the honor of occupying the same space as American composer, Charles Ives, who lived in this same house back in 1912.
Whoa. There you have it: Charles Ives’ bedroom is in a soap commercial. Of course, if we’re going to talk about Coast soap, we must note that it makes an excellent lubricant for noiseless drape runners:
If that seemed obscure, I suppose it was; she played "Nadine" on "Twin Peaks," and was interested in making a noiseless drape runner, if I recall. If that was the name for it. Anyway, she wore an eyepatch, because A) Big Ed put her eye out, and B) it was Twin Peaks. Of course, if we're going to talk about Coast soap, we have to reach back into the olifactory memory banks and ask a very simple question: has the smell changed? I don't know; I don't buy that stuff anymore. I only buy organic soap made from the fat of grass-fed pigs who died in their sleep accompanied by Mozart piano concertos; it's natural and violence free. But I remember when Coast first appeared; it was one of those things that said The World Has Changed. There was Saturday Night Live, Punk Rock, and soap that smelled like no other soap that had gone before. It was soap for stoners, in a way. They'd open up a box and pass it around. Dude, smell it. It's intense. And everyone would be like whoa, that's soap, but it's not. Irish Spring was for frat boys. Coast was for moderns.
PS: In related William Windom news, I'm sure I posted this before.
Bless his heart for doing that. Hers, too. Computer: Wasn't she from the bearded Spock episode?
A regrettable food video of sorts can be found at buzz.mn; this week's video - no registration required, mind you - details my attempt to make Thanksgiving dinner for under ten dollars. You will find a link to a larger-sized video that does not give you headaches. Stomach aches are a different matter. Go here and watch it!