Beatlespeare

I vaguely remember seeing this on telly many, many years ago, only it was in black & white. I thought it was cool because, at the time, I was performing the role of Puck in a high school production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Here it is in color. Nothing like some Scousers doing Shakespeare!

Snowklahoma!

The ice storm wasn't nearly as bad as everyone feared, but the best part is that this is what I woke up to. Click to, well, you know.

SNOW----klahoma

Where the cold front's sweepin' down the plain,

And the piles of sleet

beneath your feet

Follow right behind the freezing rain.

SNOW----klahoma

Ev'ry night my honey lamb and I

Travel home from work

And hope some jerk

Doesn’t wreck our car in passing by!

We know we belong to the land,

But it could use some more salt and more sand

That’s why we say… WHOA!

We’re sliding the other way… YIKES!

We’re only sayin’

You’re slick as snot, SNOWklahoma,

SNOWklahoma

SNOW-K-L-A-H-O-M-A

SNOWklahoma, SNOW-K!

Gaining Some Perspective

Dedicated to all those who think they're so damned important, indispensable, and powerful. Like Rush Limbaugh, Pat Robertson, Donald Trump, Chris Matthews, Lou Dobbs and countless web trolls):

(All pictures enbiggiate when clicked. Fortunately, the Earth does not.)

Our House

Things are getting a little exciting around here. First, there's the big ice storm that's predicted for tomorrow as well as 6-12 inches of snow that's forecast for Friday. I'm cool with all that as long as the trees in our yard don't decide to come through the roof. The last bad ice storm we had was in 2001, but we didn't have any trees then. The good thing about the storm is that Nettl will probably get to stay home for a four-day weekend and still get paid.

Then there's the high-speed chase that ended in our driveway last evening. Of course, in this state a high-speed chase doesn't get much faster than about 15 mph.

I looked out the window and saw a really crunched up car sitting there. It was hard to figure out what had happened at first because there wasn't a second car. My first thought was to check Micah's pickup, and fortunately it was fine. Soon, it was easy to deduce that someone had hit another car somewhere, then fled the scene.



I caught a look at the perpetrators when they cuffed them and put them in the back of a squad car. It was a young Hispanic couple, and due to the fact that the girl was cuffed along with the driver, and that someone from Immigration showed up, I believe the couple didn't have green cards. It was all over within 30 minutes and I went back to what I was doing. I wonder if I can live with all the excitement that riddles this town...

See that little yellow house? That's Myisha's place. Everyone say hi to Myisha--she's way cool!

The good news is that we've finally made it through our financial crisis. We're not flush by any means, and we have to be careful, but at least we'll be able to go back to buying groceries and paying bills like real people. Man, that was horrific, but I learned a lot through it and Nettl and I, as well as our family, are stronger than ever before, and more dedicated to each other.

Our house is a very, very, very fine house,

With two cops in the yard,

An Immigration guard;

Now everything is fine,

We've paid our dues.

(The top photo was taken by Susan, who also lives in Okieland.)

It's Doppelganger Week

Over in Facebook there's a game going on that goes like this:
Post a picture of someone famous who people have said you look like.

This game has been kind of fun, so I thought I'd bring it into Blogsville.

I've had many looks through the years. From the elfin teenager with the Beatle haircut to the sort of nondescript middle-ager I am today, I've tried on a whole lot of images. I've also been mistaken for a couple of people, which stories I'd like to share with you.

The first time I heard that I had a double was when I was a sophomore in high school. Someone came up to me all angry, asking me why I didn't say hi to them that morning in town. I told them I'd been in school all day and they said that they saw someone who looked exactly like me. That weirded me out and the concept of having a doppelganger came home to stay.

My first real experience was in 1977. I had my first credit cards, one which was at Joseph Magnin in Ventura. Magnin's was an upscale place that made me feel successful. They had some great clothes, an extensive petites section, and I was 26 and making good money as a camera operator at a television studio. I had just gotten my first "disco" perm and I looked hot. One afternoon while shopping, the girl at the jewelry counter asked me for my autograph.

"Who do you think I am?" I asked.
"You're Laraine Newman," she whispered.
"I'm not. Sorry."

I didn't really take it as a compliment. Laraine Newman, though funny on SNL, wasn't at all how I imagined myself looking. And I was sooo into my looks during that period.


"Don't worry," she said. "I won't tell anyone that you're here, but if you need anything, just let me know."

I let it pass and later, when I'd found some things I wanted to try on, the same girl took me to the dressing room that they reserved for wedding dress fittings. It was huge--about 30-feet square--and looked more like an 18th-century French salon than it did a dressing room. She asked me if I wanted anything to drink, but I said no thanks and she left. Thinking that being mistaken for someone famous might not be so bad for a little while, I let it go, enjoying trying on clothes in first class.

A couple of years later, Joel and I flew to Kansas to spend Christmas with Micah and my Ex. Well, it was really to spend some time with Micah, but, well, you know, the two went together in those days. Micah was about four at the time. One evening Bill came in carrying a copy of Bette Midler's Divine Madness album as a Christmas gift for me. I was wearing bigger makeup at that time and actively performing in clubs and such with my blues band. Micah looked at the LP cover, then at me, then the cover again, and he pointed at Bette with a huge smile on his face and said, "Mama!"

Fast-forward a number of years. Gone was the perm and the big makeup and flashy clothes. I was living in Colorado and I had a more natural look (i.e. "soft dyke", but you didn't hear me say that, did you?) and I wore wire-rimmed glasses. Stargate had just been released and I sometimes went to The Detour in downtown Denver. The Detour was a lesbian bar that was straight-friendly, and they served the best hamburgers in town. One night while sitting there minding my own business, a woman sat down next to me and said, "You look just like James Spader," which I kind of liked hearing at the time. I could handle that, no problem. It was just before middle-age, Hashimoto's  and menopause hit me and I was enjoying the last bloom of my peak years.

A few years later, after I'd moved back to Ventura and was sitting in an outdoor cafe with my partner at the time, a couple walked by, waved, and the guy said, "Hi Penny!" My partner and I just laughed because she'd told me many times that when I went out with a ball cap and sunglasses on to walk my dog, that's who I looked like.

With the exception of Spader, people always think I look like an enormously talented, brilliant Jewish woman, which doesn't suck. I'm flattered, really.

So, who do people say you resemble?

Up With Me You Cannot Put

Hey, how many of you remember these???

But that's not what this post is about.

It has occurred to me that for the past week all you've gotten from me here are posts about my book, and videos. That's cool, but some of you might not be all that interested in either my characters or Stevie Riks.  8^P  I know some of you aren't happy, because I see it reflected in my hit counts, you see.

The truth is, not much else has been going on around here. I've gotten a couple of web design jobs, which is handy, so I've been kind of busy with those as well as the book. Actually, the early part of the month was just hell on wheels, so the past week has been a veritable vacation. Of course I read your blogs, even if I don't always comment. I'm one of those who doesn't like to comment if I don't have something to say. I suppose I need to put that into practice with my blog, judging from this entry.

I'm enjoying writing my book so much that it's all I really think about now--when I'm not actually writing with my hands, I'm still writing with my mind--and being interested in other things is really hard. I'm a single-minded sort that way. I sometimes hear myself reply to Nettl with a British accent. That's how into the story I am. I pick up accents very quickly; when I came home from the time I lived in Brighton, it was pretty thick, and each time I've returned it came back. I hear my characters as I write, and it's hard to turn it off after I've put them to bed for the night. Must be my musical ear.

Anyway, be patient with me. I won't leave you high and dry.

Not Moving, Can't Make me

Because the past five years were full of so much illness and bed rest, I have a real aversion to spending the day in bed. Well, not an aversion, really. It's more like I'm riddled with guilt, which always results in my getting up and dressed even though I'd rather not.

After writing until five or six o'clock every morning the past four days, I'm just tired enough that I don't give a baboon's butt what I think. I'm staying in bed. It's warm, the kitty is curled up beside me, and I have nothing I really have to do that can't wait until tomorrow. If you know me, you know that last thing I am is a procrastinator. Sod that. I'm not moving.

Falling in Love With My Characters

Ville has a saying that I really love. She says that she doesn't make friends, she falls in love, and I'm the same way. When I meet someone that I really like, I experience feelings of non-romantic, non-sexual infatuation. Over time that turns into love, but those squishy infatuation chemicals never really go away.

I began to feel my characters breathe and come to life this weekend, and I'm growing so fond of them that I feel it's my responsibility to tell their story in a way that is both honest and fair. I'm especially fond of Gordon and his gentle, philosophical soul, but then, I haven't really dug into the other three yet.

I introduced Noel and his wife, Liz, and I can tell that I'm going to really like them too. (Noel, you know, is RW's part.) I also completed the outline, which makes it easier for me to write. I never write a story from beginning to end, I take a less static approach, writing whatever scene I'm in the mood to write. Later, I string them together.

As I knew, or hoped it would, my story became real to me and began writing itself. I'm discovering that it isn't content to be a mere "Rock novel", it also wants to serve as a kind of sociological and cultural portrayal of London during the Sixties and Seventies.

I can't explain the warm spot that is growing in my heart for my characters and I'm looking forward to getting to know them better. Saying good-bye will be difficult when the time comes; this is a story I wish could just go on and on.

Mount Effin' Olympus

I found this video a few days ago and was just blown away. Here are Eric Clapton (Cream), John Lennon (the Beatles), Keith Richards (The Rolling Stones) and Mitch Mitchell (The Jimi Hendrix Experience), also known as The Dirty Mac, performing--live, no less--Yer Blues, Lennon's song that appeared on The Beatles (otherwise known as The White Album). Here is Lennon doing what he did and loved best: rockin' with other rockers and not being a Mop-Top. Go Johnny, go!

A Very Stevie Saturday #4: When Elvis Presley Met the Beatles

Careful, or You'll End Up in My Novel

RW has asked, nay begged, to be in my book, With A Bullet. He in fact pleaded his case so eloquently and with so much painstaking detail that I could hardly refuse him. The truth is, there is a character that I can easily shape around his squishy core. His name is Noel Saunders, and although he has only two scenes (not small ones), he's important to my leading character, Katy Clarke, whom you will meet tomorrow in my the last of my main characters' delineations.

So just who is this bloke into whose shoes RW will be stepping? There may or may not be a forthcoming post on his analysis, so I'll give you just a little of what he (Noel) has revealed to me since I started and then put down this novel so many years ago.

Noel was the drummer of Gordon's old famous Sixties band, Tuppence. He's a bit gruff, but he's a good sort down inside, and he cares about his friends, although whenever he does something nice for them and they try to thank them, he's apt to mumble, "Sod off. It's what friends do, man." Liken him, if you will, to a cross between Anthony Bourdain and John Lennon working overtime to conceal his inner Pinto. (Those links lead to images, by the way, that reveal the parts of those people I'm tapping.)

He currently lives in New York City with his wife, Liz, and spends his time doing session work as well as appearing in benefit concerts that feature other Rock legends. He's reclusive until it comes to his drums, then he's about as extroverted as it gets. Having grown up with drummers (they loom large in the fabric of my family's DNA), I possess insight into their psyche, what makes them tick, and how different they are, privately, from the persona they demonstrate on stage. Writing for this character will be fun.

The Many Faces of Dylan

The other day when depression was like a big hairy hand clutching my throat, I got away from myself by watching I'm Not There on YouTube. The film's premise had intrigued me since I first saw the picture of Cate Blanchett as Bob Dylan, but I hadn't seen it in the cinema because, 1) I can't afford to go to the movies, 2) I'm not a go-to-the-movies type, and 3) films of that sort never come to Dogspot.

I admit it. I love films like this. Films that don't give you everything in hope that you'll actually think. I was amused by some of the comments left by other viewers (YouTube comments are so damned angsty, vicious, and grasping), especially those in which they said things like, "This is where I stopped watching. I don't get it." Of course you don't get it. You're required to think. Instead of turning it off to go watch Jackass, sit through it and let your brain cells knock together a little. It reminded me of when, back in the Sixties, the bubble gumming  teenyboppers whined, "I don't get Dylan. He can't even sing. Put on the Monkees!"

"I'm Not There is a 2007 biographical/musical film directed by Todd Haynes, inspired by iconic American singer-songwriter Bob Dylan. Six actors depict different facets of Dylan's life and public persona: Christian Bale, Cate Blanchett, Marcus Carl Franklin, Richard Gere, Heath Ledger, and Ben Whishaw. At the start of the film, a caption reads: "Inspired by the music and the many lives of Bob Dylan"." (Wikipedia)

The only time I had to scratch my head was during the Billy the Kid/Richard Gere bit, but as it proceeded, I recognized what Haynes was doing.

I especially enjoyed the imagery in the film; it was like Being Bob Dylan, if Being John Malkovich had been about Dylan... You know what I mean. That's another of my favorite films, by the way. When this shot came up, I had to get a screen capture. What a picture! Dylan as a balloon, whipped around by the winds above a circus midway. Dylan 'blowin’ in the wind' of his self-made and media-generated image, the flimsiest string tied to his ankle, keeping him only somewhat connected to reality. It was almost like he was hanging suspended from a bridge, only upside down in a strange kind of mirror image. Loved that.

A lot of people didn't like this film, but then a lot of people don't like Dylan anyway, so them's the breaks. This is a film I have to own, so I'm putting it on my wish list. Not that I ever get anything from my wish list, but it's nice to go window shopping, isn't it?

You can watch it here, on YouTube, in 15 segments. For the rest of you, here's the trailer:

Dream

"Almost always, the creative dedicated minority has made the world better."

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Desktop wallpaper,
"Martin Luther King, Jr. in Type"
by Denci Manayak

A Writer's Meme, Sort Of

I found this over at Willow Manor, and although I wasn't tagged, I wanted to answer the questions anyway.

1. What’s the last thing you wrote? What’s the first thing you wrote that you still have?
Last night I wrote an argument between Gordon and Katy over her wanting to go on a final concert tour. In the end, he agreed to appear with her at Madison Square Garden, but there was a condition. No, I'm not telling you what that was... The first thing I wrote that I still have is Journal #1 of 57. Everything I wrote before I started journaling got lost in "The Big Dump of '01".

2. Write poetry?
Not as much as I used to. Nowadays most of my poetry is written as song lyrics.

3. Angsty poetry?
Is for teenaged girls.

4. Favorite genre of writing?
Whatever I'm writing at the time.

5. Most annoying character you’ve ever created?
An accountant that didn't make the cut. I replaced him with a bodyguard.

6. Best plot you’ve ever created?
The one I'm working on now.

7. Coolest plot twist you’ve ever created?
Night Music's ending is pretty cool. What can happen to a lead character after he dies, I wonder...

8. How often do you get writer’s block?
I don't. I run into minor obstacles stemming from stress or illness, but I work around them.

9. Write fan fiction?
I did when I was 16.

10. Do you type or write by hand?
Type on my laptop.

11. Do you save everything you write?
Yes. Hard drive, my domain, and disk.

12. Do you ever go back to an abandoned idea?
With A Bullet was abandoned for 25 years.

13. What’s your favorite thing you’ve ever written?
The lyrics to a few really great songs.

14. What’s everyone else’s favorite story you’ve written?
I don't know yet.

15. Ever written romance or angsty teen drama?
No.

16. What’s your favorite setting for your characters?
Because I've always written about musicians, I like seeing my characters in their element doing their work.

17. How many projects are you working on now?
Including both writing and music, three, not counting my blog. There are several more waiting in the queue.

18. Have you ever won an award for your writing?
My blog has received a few awards for writing.

19. What are your five favorite words?
Not that I use them much, but I like gossamer, macabre, nebulous, insidious, and whisper.

20. What character have you created that is most like yourself?
Mozart, mostly, but I think there's a little of me in all of my characters.

21. Where do you get your ideas for your characters?
They are largely composites of people I know and people in the public eye.

22. Do you favor happy endings?
Not necessarily, but I like tying up a story with a big red bow. As a classical composer who writes, I rely heavily on the da capo and final cadence of a piece, whether it's music or the written word.

23. Are you concerned with spelling and grammar as you write?
Obsessively.

24. Does music help you write?
I can't write without it, and I use music that fits within the scope of the book. Right now I'm listening to music from 1977 through 1986.

25. Quote something you’ve written. Whatever pops in your head.
Chadwicke Hall, the manor house on Gordon’s 53-acre estate, had been built by architect John Soane in the late 18th century. Its grounds boasted a park with a manmade lake and a large Victorian conservatory and greenhouse complete with an indoor fern and moss-covered waterfall. The manor itself had 40 rooms and was flanked to the south by a small river and to the north by a tall hedge maze that been the home of countless psychedelic parties during the Sixties. Gordon often joked that there probably were people still in there trying to find their way out.

I'm tagging Lynette and Jacquandor. I'd tag RW, but he hates these things.

All Better Now

Well, at least I'm never down for long. I've always claimed to have 24 karat gold springs on my feet--the harder I'm dropped, the higher I bounce back up. What helped me most was going through an entire day without one negative incident, a few rounds of Scrabble with Nettl, a cup of English tea, some Milano cookies, and the promise of an uneventful, "jammies" weekend ahead.

I also have my latest book's characters firmly envisioned. I spent the day on the web looking for people who matched what I've had in my mind all these years. These pictures are only for my reference, of course, to aid me in my writing their story. Having actual faces to look at helps me put words in their mouths, and to invent their mannerisms and facial expressions. I've known a couple of writers who use this device and it has always worked for me as well. I was having a hard time getting into it because I just couldn't "see" my characters. Now, they're as clear as can be.

So, to my writing!

Time Out

What Storm Troopers Do on Their Day Off

I found a site tonight whose photos reminded me of my feature, Tuesdays With Mozart. Some of my Star Wars fans will enjoy it more, I'm certain. Click here (click this picture to enlargesse).

L'il Sprout

As if to spit in the proverbial face of everything I had dreamed, projected, worked for, and envisioned, 2010 started out badly. Very badly. Since I first opened my eyes on  the morning of January 1st we have been bombarded with cares and heartbreaks that have our heads fairly reeling. I keep claiming, however, that this is merely a "cleaning out" of the old crap so that there will be room for new and better trends in the year to come. I have to believe, or else I might be tempted to dig a hole, climb in, and pull it down over me. Right now, it feels like life is a bunch of shitmen made out of  rolled shitballs like so many brown snowmen in the front yard. From having feet wiped on us to losing old friends, from the ever-present predators to the eternally empty pantry, and from losing a bid on a new website to catching a cold, the new year started out even worse than the old year ended.

I didn't try to be positive about 2010--I was positive about it, and I still believe there's something in the offing this year. As the saying goes, "I see a light at the end of the tunnel, I just hope it ain't a train".

Sometimes hope feels like a green sprout fighting to survive the elements.

Today I'm going to give you some links that have helped me in the past few days. To the owners of these sites, a resounding thank you for making me smile.

I Know Mind Control:  The Verdant Dude (aka B. E. Earl) wrote this entry, which had me laughing late last night. But then Slyde left a comment that started out my day with a laugh of equal proportion. Whoa.

Excuse Me for Not Being a Doormat:  An avid follower of Hilary's  (The Smitten Image) Post Of The Week entries, I found this one and boy could I relate! Thanks to Alix for penning such a wise and thought-provoking entry. And thanks to Hilary for pointing me to it.

The Most Beautiful Smith in the World:  Cal Lane's art fascinated me when I StumbledUpon her work. Amazing what a "woman's touch" can do to scrap metal and garden tools.

Fractal Scape:  Just damned hypnotic. It took me away from my problems for a little bit. Make sure you have your sound turned on.

Farting Up a Flagpole:  C. G. Hill (aka Dustbury) gave me the first laugh I'd had in a couple of days with a comment that he left on this post of mine.

In the Midst of Winter:  Merisi (Merisi's Vienna for Beginners) posted this simple photograph that made me catch my breath. It's often the little things that make us forget our cares, isn't it.

Things will improve, but even if they don't I'll still have a world of laughter, thought, and beauty at my fingertips here on the Internet.

Visual Composition

This is one of the most fantastic things I've encountered on the web.

Wow. That's quite a statement.

Turn up your sound and enjoy your natural, inborn creativity!


VISUAL ACOUSTICS.

Go, Stay, Stay, Go

You know those stories about people who fake their deaths, people like Elvis, Jim Morrison, John Lennon, and, now, Michael Jackson? I have my own ideas on some of these figures and I believe that at least two of them are still alive somewhere.

I've often toyed with the idea of faking my own death. No, not my actual death, my internet death. I sometimes think I'd just like to disappear. Take down all of my sites and anything that I can that has to do with Steph Waller and disappear. This is one of those times.

People are cruel and thoughtless, and they're awfully quick to prejudge me, my marriage, my spiritual beliefs, and my moral character. In fact, they assume that because I don't hold the same beliefs that they do, I'm mentally ill and indeed have no moral character.

Sometimes I wish I'd never agreed to be in Mozartballs. Out of the hundreds of negative personal slurs I've received, I've gotten only two positive responses. Two. In five years. And when those two people have voiced their feelings, they too got slammed, and stuck in the same "mental" pile that I'm in. That hurts me more than getting slammed myself; I feel responsible for their public humiliation.

I think that if I did orchestrate my own internet death, I'd reappear in disguise, create an all new identity like in the Witness Protection Program. It would be nearly impossible to pull this off though, because people still would slam me, I just wouldn't have a voice. And that would be worse than sticking around.

The Huxley-Orwell Debate - in Cartoons

Okay, so Brave New World and 1984 just happen to be two of my favorite books. They were required reading in my circles of friends, anyway, back in the Sixties.

I StumbledUpon this page last night and although there's a lot going on right now, I'm not comfortable blogging about it. This will have to suffice until I get myself back in shape.

All I Have for Monday

After you click this link (and you know you want to), be sure to click on each of the horses in the image. Lauren found this last night and we laughed and laughed. Oh, and be sure to have your sound turned on.

Source

Staring Down the Predators

When a grizzly bear is growling at you, you don't scratch its ears, nor do you run away. You pick up a tree limb and hit it over the head. Thus, the biggest lesson I had to learn through the first decade of this millennium.

I know I've finally learned how to deal with predatory, abusive people because of how I handled a situation last night. It's simple. Put up or shut up, put your action where your mouth is... all that. If someone keeps threatening, tell them to cough up and have done with it. Of course that won't work, so CC your response to your attorney, including his address, email and phone numbers. Love and good karma go only so far. They might work with a puppy dog, but they don't mean crap to a grizzly, or a drop-kick dog who wants to believe it's a grizzly.

One of the reasons I learned lucid dreaming so many years ago was to be able to turn around in a nightmare and give the stare down to that monster that had pursued me since I was a child. When I finally was able to do that the nightmares stopped. The harassment will stop as well because the one motive these asshats have in common is their sick need to feel like they have power over something, anything. Their lives are so pathetic and empty that they obsess on someone who seems to have it all: family, love, friends, happiness, purpose. If they can intimidate someone like that, then wow! they must be important!

And forget all their "I'll call my lawyer" B.S. The fact that this person replied the way they did when I sent them my lawyer's info ("I have a lawyer, but I've staved off initiating action because of my esteem for you") tells me that they haven't a lawyer at all. Besides, anyone who calls in legal counsel is told right at the outset not to contact the opposite party personally. I call bullshit. I've given them my lawyer's contact info, time for them to reciprocate. You want a piece of me? Call my attorney, or shut the *** up.

Baroque e Vino

Because sometimes nothing else does it.

Vista Titanic Fails Again

Well, it's not the mouse (I don't think), because when I plugged in a regular mouse (with cord and ball) the drag and drop still was troublesome. My only assumption is that, as usual, it's a Vista problem. Why the hell wouldn't it be? EVERYthing seems to be a Vista problem! Even the cat wanting in/out the door regardless of what side of it she's on. GRR!

The damned mouse was working fine until yesterday. Well, I noticed it started having a little trouble in my Spider Solitaire game the other night, but it's gotten progressively worse. I can't have this. I have new web clients. We need me to work. Desperately.

Effin' Vista...
_________________________________
Update Saturday night:
Suddenly, the mouse is working fine again. WTF.

I Could Write About...

I could write about the cold temperatures, but that's all anyone's blogging/facebooking/tweeting about and I'm bored with the subject. It's weather. Get a grip. It's not like we don't all have thermostats, insulated homes, microfibers, hot water, and indoor toilets; it's not Dickensian London for crying out loud.

I could write about how my cordless optical mouse has acted up all day, and after 15 hours of fighting with it I discovered it was the USB port, so I moved it to another one (hopefully that was the problem), but that would make me sound like a dumb ass.

I could write about all of the conjecture that people on the web are pontificating about concerning global warming versus the lack of sun spot activity, but I'm bored with that too.

I could write about spending the entire day and night in Photoshop, teaching myself how to use it, but there are 12 year-old kids who are better at it than I'll ever be.

Basically, I could write about anything in this post, but I'm tired, so I'm going to sleep.


P.S. While writing this post it has become evident that the mouse issue is with the mouse.

Time for Something Hot

 I think it's time for a break from all this frigid weather.

Just beware of the sharks.

Someplace Else

Have you ever had the feeling that you're supposed to someplace else? I've had this feeling for the past couple of days. I'm usually very good at living in the here-and-now, but I look out my window and hear someplace calling me through the distance--I don't know where. I try imagining where I'd like to be, but I can't settle on one place.

Vienna? Sure, but...
Mexico? Okay, but...
Ventura? Great, but...
England? Lovely, but...

There are things happening all over the world, people experiencing things, and here I sit in Stillwater on a cold, snow-patched afternoon. It's an odd feeling, one that is new to me.

It's the Small Things

It's funny the things we overlook. When we moved into this cottage last August we were aware of the little wall furnace in the master bath, but we didn't give it any real thought. Thinking, I guess, that it was just an old feature in an old house, we considered it a kind of eyesore--we didn't even check to see if it worked--and wished we could remove it. Instead, we put a pretty metal folding table in front of it to disguise it a little and to also hold our spa and bath products. My other thought was safety. It's a gas furnace after all, that was intended to function via open flames. Like I said, it's an old house, wood frame no less.

Well, yesterday I decided to see if it worked. It's been bitter cold and getting out of the shower is actually painful! I moved the table aside, uttered a prayer that the house wouldn't blow up, struck a match, and turned on the gas. It lit up gently and the flames rose, heating the ceramic elements and filling the cold room with blessed heat. Getting out of the shower was actually pleasant and I began to look for another place to put the table. Unfortunately, there's no place to it, so we'll just have to move it when we want to use the furnace.

Nettl used it this morning and liked it so much she wrote about it on Facebook. Now I can't wait to take one of my hot, lingering, candlelight baths; the little furnace will be like having a fireplace next to the tub!

Armchair Circumnavigator: Tristan da Cunha

Coordinates: 37°4′0″S, 12°19′0″W
Capital: Edinburgh of the Seven Seas (known as The Settlement)
Language: English
Population: Barely 300 people.
Religions: Anglican, Roman Catholic
Monetary Unit: British Pound Sterling



When Napoleon was sent to St. Helena by the British, they annexed the nearest islands to prevent the French from attempting an ocean crossing of more than 1500 miles to rescue him. The islands in this chain were Nightingale Island, Inaccessible Island, and Tristan da Cunha Island.

Tristan da Cunha is so small that cartographers have trouble putting it on their maps. Located in the South Atlantic between Africa and South America, this volcanic outcropping has the honor of being named the remotest inhabited island on the planet. It is home to a population of 270 or so people, with an economy based in the fishing, lobstering, and stamp-making industries. The climate is sub-tropical, with very little variation in temperature from season to season. Outside of a level area located at the northwestern edge of the island, the rest is mountainous and rocky. The Tristanians quite literally live under the volcano. In 1961 a cone near The Settlement began to erupt and the entire community was evacuated to England. After two years an investigation was conducted and it was found that damage had been minimal and the residents were allowed to return.

The current population is thought to have descended from 15 ancestors: eight males and seven females who arrived on the island at various times between 1816 and 1908. The male founders originated from Scotland, England, The Netherlands, the USA, and Italy, and the women were brought in from a neighboring island as mail-order brides. Consequently, the families on Tristan share just eight surnames: Glass, Green, Hagan, Lavarello, Repetto, Rogers, Swain, and Patterson. The addition of the eighth surname, Patterson, occurred recently when a Tristanian married an Englishman and returned to settle on Tristan. Due to the island's history of endogamy, there are instances of health problems, including asthma and glaucoma. There is an excellent 30-minute BBC documentary about this that you can watch here. Health care is free, but with just one resident doctor from South Africa and five nurses, services are limited and emergency care often necessitates making radio calls to passing vessels so that the injured can be transferred to Cape Town.

All Tristan families are farmers, owning their own stock. All land is communally owned and livestock numbers are strictly controlled to conserve pasture and to prevent better-off families from accumulating wealth. For instance, a single person will be given one cow and two sheep. A man with a wife and family is given two cows and two sheep per family member. Additionally, each family is given their own potato patch. No outsiders are allowed to buy land or settle on the island.

The islanders frequently face the full wrath of Atlantic storms, battered by gusts of wind that can reach nearly 200 miles per hour. Once the wind was so strong that it swept some grazing cows and sheep from the fields and into the ocean.

The island follows a pretty set Monday through Friday routine, the work divided between that which benefits the family and that which aides the community. Sunday is for relaxing, church, and spending time with family. The island also has a social hall, a cafe, a supermarket, and a pub.

Television did not arrive on the island until 2001 and the only channel available is the British Forces Broadcasting Service from the Falkland Islands. Education is rudimentary, the children graduating at the age of fifteen.

Every year on Old Year's Night (December 31st), the men of the island disguise themselves in costumes and masks and spend the evening visiting the houses in The Settlement, scaring the women and children. They take care never to utter a word, despite the noise, so as not to give away their identities. They even wear gloves so that their families will not recognize them by their hands. The custom has a long history, although it has evolved over the generations. It is traditional for the Government Administrator to host an evening reception for the men, which is held in the Residency Garden. Called Okalalies, the men bring bunches of flowers which they present to the hostess.

Tristan da Cunha warmly welcomes visitors, but strict guidelines must be followed, and permission from the island council can take up to two years to attain.

Visit Tristan da Cunha's official website.

Sources:
Dark Roasted Blend
Wikipedia
Photo Credits:
Rob Crossan & Simon Dunston
Sue Scott
Jean-Pierre Langer
Manuel Bauer
Peter Baldwin
Roland Swensson

Fiddlin' Phil

Enjoy the fun of downtown Ventura, featuring Phil Salazar (Frank's son) on fiddle, as well as a bunch of other talented Venturans.

In Reality, What is Reality?

What if the Matrix were real? And really, how can we know that it isn't? Hell, how can we know anything with any kind of certainty anyway? There are those who say that to live in an imposed dream state is impossible both mathematically and scientifically, but what if that thinking is in itself part of the illusion created to keep us from finding out the true nature of our reality?

René Descartes was responsible for the phrase, “I think, therefore I am.” In his 1641 book Meditations on First Philosophy, he poses the question of how he can know with certainty that the world he experiences is not an illusion being forced upon him. He reasons that since he believes in what he sees and feels while dreaming, he cannot trust his senses to tell him that he is not still dreaming. His senses cannot provide him with proof that the world even exists and that, for all he knows, he and the rest of the world might be under the control of an evil demon.

Some say the scenario depicted in The Matrix is ridiculous: human beings kept in tanks by intelligent machines, experiencing an artificial reality that they believe is fact just to produce power for those machines. Like most people, I took the movie to be wholly symbollic, not literal as many lovers of sci-fi philosophy did. In every sense we are kept as energy cells for the System, and we are kept opiated by television, religion and consumerism so that we don't "wake up" and realize that we are its slaves from the moment our existence is filed with City Hall and we are given a Social Security number.

What got me thinking about this was the many dreams I had this morning. In them I encountered and dealt with a number of situations, scenarios and people that, when I awoke, plunged me into thoughts about the unreliability of what we call our waking state or Reality. Dreaming is a fascinating thing. Despite all science has discovered and unraveled about the nature of life on this planet, and the very origin of all that is, we still don't know what dreaming is. There are many theories, but we just don't know. Again, how can we?

“I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke. Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?” - Chuang Tzu, 369 - 286 bce

As I've said in earlier entries, I've always had extremely detailed and lucid dreams. Very few are chaotic or nonsensical, and I've always regarded my time dreaming as an alternate reality of sorts. Even if dreaming is (as many experts believe) a mere "defragging" process the brain employs to clean our files and registry, it still must possess meaning because the data is created in us. It's personal.

My personal philosophy is that I am the driver of my body-vehicle, not the vehicle itself. That's what has made aging easier for me than it was before I really grasped that idea. Like a car, my body ages, but I, the driver inside, am the same age I ever was. I am ageless. My dreams brought this home to me this morning because in my dreams I am never any younger or older than about 30. That means something to me and, as I step into the final phase of my time on this planet, it's a comfort. I've also learned some things about the psychological effect aging has on us, but that's for another entry.

How's that for a cliffhanger?

The Year in Review Meme

Kelly posted this on his blog, Byzantium's Shores, and I thought it was a great idea.

1.  Did you keep your New Years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I don't remember making any resolutions last year. I've learned not to, due to my health, but now that I'm feeling so much better I don't mind making a couple: 1) to continue increasing my creative output and 2) to get more cowbell in my life.

2.  Did anyone close to you give birth?
No, not unless you count Ville's feral cats.

3.  Did anyone close to you die?
No.

4.  What countries did you visit?
Through writing my new book, I've mentally revisited and have fallen in love again with England.

5. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009?
Money!

6.  What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Helping Nettl with her book (which is now on Amazon). I not only contributed to its content, I also edited it and designed the cover, as well as its website.

7.  What was your biggest failure?
I don't think in those terms because there's always something to learn.

8.  What was the best thing you bought?
Nettl bought me this laptop with her tax refund, bless her!

9.  Whose behavior merited celebration?
Nettl's, for her courage and unflagging faith that all things work together for good.

10.  Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
The press and the religious/political right.

11.  Where did most of your money go?
Rent and utilities.

12.  What did you get really excited about?
My improving health and becoming myself again. Also, the Christmas Eve blizzard.

13.  What song will always remind you of 2009?
Blue Swede's cover of "Hooked On A Feeling" (Ouga-chaka!).

14.  Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder?
Much, much happier.

15.  Thinner or fatter?
I'm about the same I think. I lost a bit, but the Holidays put it back on. It'll go; I don't worry about that stuff.

16.  Richer or poorer?
Poorer financially, but richer in every other way.

17.  What do you wish you'd done more of?
Reading, and writing music.

18.  What do you wish you'd done less of?
Worrying about crap that I have no control over.

19.  How did you spend Christmas?
We had a great little Christmas with our imediate family.

20.  Did you fall in love in 2009?
I don't have to fall, I've already landed!

21.  What was your favorite TV program?
We no longer watch TV and I'm glad. I was able to really enjoy the Holidays without all the marketing and hype, and not watching the news has greatly contributed to my current peace of mind.

22.  Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Hate is a waste of precious energy and hurts no one but the hater. Give it up.

23.  What was the best book you read?
So Faithful A Heart by K. Lynette Erwin.

24.  What was your greatest musical discovery?
Luigi Boccherini. I knew of him and his work, but I'd never just seriously listened to him.

25.  What did you want and get?
I wanted to feel better, and I do.

26.  What did you want and not get?
I wanted to sell my Mozartiana last Fall. Hasn't happened yet, but it will soon, I'm sure. Just waiting on the economy to improve.

27.  What were your favorite films of this year?
I'm not a movie person, but we rented a few. Of those I really loved August Rush.

28.  What did you do on your birthday?
I wanted to stay home and hide away, which is what I did.

29.  How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2009?
No change. I'm still wearing jeans and Hawaiian shirts.

30.  What kept you sane?
Nettl and my family and friends, my blog friends, wine, writing, music, and the 24-karat springs on my feet.

31.  Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Stevie Riks.

32.  What political issue stirred you the most?
Health care, Gay rights.

33.  Who did you miss?
Frank, Dad, Mom, Steve, George, John, Geor3ge & Noelle, and Micah (when he went to Kansas and England).

34.  Who was the best new person you met?
We've never met face-to-face, but I consider Roschelle my friend. She's a lovely person.

35.  Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2009:
Don't worry. Let it flow. Surrender. Forgive.

36.  Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
And I'm looking for space,
And to find out who I am;
And I'm looking to know and understand.
It's a sweet, sweet dream,
Sometimes I'm almost there.
Sometimes I fly like an eagle,
And sometimes I'm deep in despair.

2009's Personal Best & Worst

Best Party: Tiki Bar New Year's Eve party
Worst Party: As usual, the one that never happened.

Best Casual Get-Together: Summer on the porch with Ville
Worst Casual Get-Together: No get-together is bad!

Best Dinner: Viennese with Allen.
Worst Dinner: The many we didn't have for lack of anything to cook.

Best News: Salzburg is interested in my Mozartiana
Worst News: Haven't heard from Salzburg since July.

Best Reaction: Nettl and I have reacted to our adverse setbacks with courage and cheerfulness
Worst Reaction: I don't think that I've reacted uncommonly bad to anything, really.

Best Creative Endeavor: Helping Nettl with her book
Worst Creative Endeavor: The end of the year was full of creativity, so there's nothing to tag as the "worst".

Best Physical Feat: Moving a 3000sf household into an 1100sf cottage
Worst Physical Feat: Moving a 3000sf household into an 1100sf cottage

Best Neighbors: Matt (when his wife is around).
Worst Neighbors: The noisy college kids down the street.

Best Web Feat: Revamping the OSU website.
Worst Web Feat: Downloading games that crashed my laptop.

Best Laugh: Stevie Riks
Worst Cry: When Live365 took our last 4o bucks.

Best Blog Entry: Fun With Steph & Nettl.
Worst Blog Entry: No Entry Tonight.