The wedding couple, whose wedding celebration started at 630, but at 830 they still had not arrived, did not fall into a well or sink hole. They showed up at 9, thirty minutes after a few others and I left the building. It is still very weird. None of the Mormons seem to think it is nuts, yet when it is mentioned they sigh, "yea I guess that is ..." then they fade out. I'm not sure some of them aren't hypnotized. They are due at 6:30 and even have a little agenda laid out on the invitation. I don't get it.
It could still be true that the consummation issue wasn't resolved until just before they arrived at their party. That theory has yet to be shot down. I don't know how to tactfully research the matter, so I am going on the assumption that the reason for the no show at the party was that they just couldn't quite get that consummation thing done.
And, obviously, you can't do the stuff out of order, it's--marry--bang--party-- or you go to some bad place. Or the whole congregation beats you silly. I would hope that is how it works. It is only right.
I can merely guess based on the evidence I have, so it is possible that none of the above is true except for direct observations such as when I left, and factual information from reliable sources such as that the couple is alive and arrived about 9 PM--technically hearsay (often spelled "heresay by the AP).
Monday, July 29, 2013
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Sneaky Email, etc.
An email arrived which pretended to be from DHL. I think the subject said, "Order Shipped", and it looked all DHL with the colorful logo and such. They claimed the attempted delivery but no one was home.
A tracking number was listed, which was link that tried to get you to download a thing that you then have to open. They also had just that in the email body as well.
Just prior to the final step I noticed the files were .exe and that is not a good thing to open unless you know what it does and that you want that. I trashed it, then went to the DHL site. They had a warning about this email. I noticed it off to the right after entering the bogus tracking number. DHL aid that was not a legit tracking number.
No big surprise because I didn't order anything. Of course, I never discount the possibility of an unexpected package from friend or foe. I have told friend and family, repeatedly, just end it via US post office to the PO Box, but one person always tries to end wild stuff UPS.
I worked for UPS for a short few months in Greensboro. They have a hub there. Most dangerous facility since my dad's backyard speargun factory where all the labor was done by kid from 6 to 18. I did it all by the time I was 18. Sometimes I'd hire a friend to help. Only one or two of my friends from grade school on were capable of doing the work and doing it as long a it took to get the job done.
So, for 80% of the time between age 15 and 18 I did it all. Not that this is relevant to the topic, other than that would be illegal now. It was not a happy time or a happy place, but it could have been. In any case, even now I would oppose any intrusion by the state on such an operation.
In their exuberance, the state can often mistake a jerk for a hard core abuser. By doing this, the kid gets none of the redeeming value the jerk has to offer. Only the jerk part. I'm glad I was able to come away with something more than just a jerk parent. I just wish I had not somehow become the sponge for all the sadness in the family, not of my making. It is a if I subconsciously thought I could take the sadness away and put it all in me so everyone would be OK. Except me, but that didn't matter.
I have yet to permanently shake the sadness, or the low evaluation of my worth. It comes and goes.
A box would get off to the side and snag on something, and pretty soon boxes pile up and even fall off, down on a road going elsewhere. The solution? Someone would leave the task unknown to me, get behind the jam, brace himself and kick the boxes. Many reached the bottom looking like accordions.
The drivers for UPS are not like that. They have high demands put on them, but they don't just throw packages at your door as they pass to make up time. In the hub they do the equivalent of that in a myriad of ways.
I knew owners of very small manufacturing operations who were harassed by state OSHA agencies for not having an exit sign above the only door out of a one room building. small building. More than one case of similar nitpicking nonsense. These were well run, safe places. The last thing the owners of these firms needed was for employees to get hurt. Not profitable, not in their self interest.
The number of hazards at the freight hub was huge. It is clear that those who have the big bucks to help campaigns and participate in government/business partnerships are not held to the same standard.
That was long ago. I'm sure it has all been cleaned up now. Corruption and dishonesty in institutions funded by tax money collected at gunpoint is a thing of the past.
I love this San Diego mayor. He's the best thing since Sergio in Miami a little over 20 years ago. That is hard to do. Sergio was county manager, I think. They had this county wide sort of government. Metro-Dade. The usual issues resulted from too much centralization. But, par for the course, they think the answer is more of the same which caused the problem.
Sergio and his city hall cohorts got busted for regularly buying stolen suits and other high end clothes from somebody in a truck who would meet them at some fairly regular time. Often the original store tags were still there. The store that either got ripped off, or their shipment got stolen.
Serg and the gang prided themselves on dressing well. How could they know someone doing retail designer-wear business out of the back of a truck in back alleys may be a crook? The Hiassen commentaries in the Miami Herald at the time were indescribably funny and on the mark. It mad it fun to live in Miami for that period.
Cliff has been playing a song I wrote--No More Mr Nice Guy. I wrote it in Memphis but would not let that band have it because of the way things were done. I'm surprised that it gets such a good reception. It is a silly song and not something I'd think was good.
Here's the chorus of the song: no more mr nice guy, no more mr easy, call me mr spice guy, call me mr sleazy.
The rest of the song talks about this guy's wife or girlfriend who was happy until she started watching Oprah and Dr Phil. I think it was actually a magazine cover that triggered the thought, though. She hears things like, "Is your love life stagnating?", etc. And they have all these ideas for "spicing up life in the bedroom". None of it stuff she or her husband do----(because it is probably STOOPITT)--and even though she's happy, she's convinced she must really be lacking. Got to watch out for those who make money off of people's problems. They will often lead you to believe you have a problem when you don't.
The song is not an opinion narrative like the above. Maybe that is why it works. I don't remember all the words. It is somehow rewarding to play on song you wrote, but the singer knows it far better than you.
So, in the song, he's trying to keep the woman happy. I wish him the best of luck.
A tracking number was listed, which was link that tried to get you to download a thing that you then have to open. They also had just that in the email body as well.
Just prior to the final step I noticed the files were .exe and that is not a good thing to open unless you know what it does and that you want that. I trashed it, then went to the DHL site. They had a warning about this email. I noticed it off to the right after entering the bogus tracking number. DHL aid that was not a legit tracking number.
No big surprise because I didn't order anything. Of course, I never discount the possibility of an unexpected package from friend or foe. I have told friend and family, repeatedly, just end it via US post office to the PO Box, but one person always tries to end wild stuff UPS.
I worked for UPS for a short few months in Greensboro. They have a hub there. Most dangerous facility since my dad's backyard speargun factory where all the labor was done by kid from 6 to 18. I did it all by the time I was 18. Sometimes I'd hire a friend to help. Only one or two of my friends from grade school on were capable of doing the work and doing it as long a it took to get the job done.
So, for 80% of the time between age 15 and 18 I did it all. Not that this is relevant to the topic, other than that would be illegal now. It was not a happy time or a happy place, but it could have been. In any case, even now I would oppose any intrusion by the state on such an operation.
In their exuberance, the state can often mistake a jerk for a hard core abuser. By doing this, the kid gets none of the redeeming value the jerk has to offer. Only the jerk part. I'm glad I was able to come away with something more than just a jerk parent. I just wish I had not somehow become the sponge for all the sadness in the family, not of my making. It is a if I subconsciously thought I could take the sadness away and put it all in me so everyone would be OK. Except me, but that didn't matter.
I have yet to permanently shake the sadness, or the low evaluation of my worth. It comes and goes.
get drunk on beer when nursing children
Anyway, that UPS place appeared to have been designed by someone who forgot to account for the fact that human beings would be working there. There were cool conveyor belt highways that resembled big city overpasses with bridges over bridges over bridges. They had stations up there where people did tasks unknown to me; until one of the highways had a pile up.A box would get off to the side and snag on something, and pretty soon boxes pile up and even fall off, down on a road going elsewhere. The solution? Someone would leave the task unknown to me, get behind the jam, brace himself and kick the boxes. Many reached the bottom looking like accordions.
The drivers for UPS are not like that. They have high demands put on them, but they don't just throw packages at your door as they pass to make up time. In the hub they do the equivalent of that in a myriad of ways.
I knew owners of very small manufacturing operations who were harassed by state OSHA agencies for not having an exit sign above the only door out of a one room building. small building. More than one case of similar nitpicking nonsense. These were well run, safe places. The last thing the owners of these firms needed was for employees to get hurt. Not profitable, not in their self interest.
The number of hazards at the freight hub was huge. It is clear that those who have the big bucks to help campaigns and participate in government/business partnerships are not held to the same standard.
That was long ago. I'm sure it has all been cleaned up now. Corruption and dishonesty in institutions funded by tax money collected at gunpoint is a thing of the past.
I love this San Diego mayor. He's the best thing since Sergio in Miami a little over 20 years ago. That is hard to do. Sergio was county manager, I think. They had this county wide sort of government. Metro-Dade. The usual issues resulted from too much centralization. But, par for the course, they think the answer is more of the same which caused the problem.
Sergio and his city hall cohorts got busted for regularly buying stolen suits and other high end clothes from somebody in a truck who would meet them at some fairly regular time. Often the original store tags were still there. The store that either got ripped off, or their shipment got stolen.
Serg and the gang prided themselves on dressing well. How could they know someone doing retail designer-wear business out of the back of a truck in back alleys may be a crook? The Hiassen commentaries in the Miami Herald at the time were indescribably funny and on the mark. It mad it fun to live in Miami for that period.
Cliff has been playing a song I wrote--No More Mr Nice Guy. I wrote it in Memphis but would not let that band have it because of the way things were done. I'm surprised that it gets such a good reception. It is a silly song and not something I'd think was good.
Here's the chorus of the song: no more mr nice guy, no more mr easy, call me mr spice guy, call me mr sleazy.
The song is not an opinion narrative like the above. Maybe that is why it works. I don't remember all the words. It is somehow rewarding to play on song you wrote, but the singer knows it far better than you.
So, in the song, he's trying to keep the woman happy. I wish him the best of luck.
Friday, July 26, 2013
New Theory for Mystery in post Below
Not knowing how the workings of that faith operate, other than that they multiply like rabbits, I can only guess at ritual and dogma.
I'm thinking the way it works is that things Must be done in this order: a-get married, b-consummate marriage, c-have the hooplah celebration in the church basketball arena. That is why they marry one night, do the party the next.
What if, for whatever reason, they tried all night and all day but just couldn't get the dang thing consummated? They can't be doing things out of order. It explains everything.
Maybe people looked unworried because, after 3 or 4 hours, the couple shows up and the brethren and sisteren help them get this consummation business accomplished. They may look straight arrow, but those folks love sex. I can tell.
I'm thinking the way it works is that things Must be done in this order: a-get married, b-consummate marriage, c-have the hooplah celebration in the church basketball arena. That is why they marry one night, do the party the next.
What if, for whatever reason, they tried all night and all day but just couldn't get the dang thing consummated? They can't be doing things out of order. It explains everything.
Maybe people looked unworried because, after 3 or 4 hours, the couple shows up and the brethren and sisteren help them get this consummation business accomplished. They may look straight arrow, but those folks love sex. I can tell.
California Dreaming, part 7262013
One of the big surprises for me, here in sunny SoCal, was the big churchy aspect. I encountered nothing like this in the South, and they have churches everywhere, but they are often smaller, some the size of a small barn or taco stand.
San Diego county houses maybe a billion Mormons, and big showings for Seventh Day Adventists and some Caledonian thing--they be somewhat foreign--and who knows what other group that would probably piss off the Baptists down south.
I played a little music with a Mormon guy over the last couple of years. I even played for a Mormon event at a Mormon church--or whatever term they use, if not church.
So, that guy was marrying the girl singer, also a Mormon. Mormonette, if you will. You won't? Yea, guess not.
Apparently they do the church stuff and actually get married the night before. That is what they did. Then they have like a reception-party thing the next night. At a mormon place. All their places have a very nice indoor basketball court, which also serves as a banquet hall, dance hall, etc., as needs be. At the end of all of them is a first class stage, complete with curtain.
So, I was invited to the reception, as was the bass player who had played with us. He gave up on that group at same time I did. We figured we were the only non-mormon infidels in the place. We were concerned about the possibility of a sacrificial ceremony. We were concerned that we might be the martyrs of the event.
As it turned out we sat around with a Mormon lady that we know, sampled the buffet, sat around some more. The invitation said it started at 6:30, then at 8 there was to be a ring exchange---I thought you did that when you got married.
It doesn't matter. They never showed up. Family and friends had that place looking like a mild Las Vegas. Lights, glitz. Nothing.
People sat around the tables and talked because they all know one another. Some recorded music was being played. Actually a good selection for what was at hand.
Everyone appeared to believe that the newlywed couple--marriage 2 or 3 for him, 2 for her--was still alive and hadn't fallen into a well, as I posited.
At nearly 8pm, the guy playing dj, announced the couple's phone numbers and suggested barraging them with calls and texts. I didn't hear if any answers were received.
I left at close to 830. Not to show to your own party is a bit odd. He was going to play music and wanted the bass and I to play, was my understanding. The erratic degree of reliability involved with the couple, particularly the groom, has those people conditioned to assume it is due to irresponsibility so I'll bet it will be some time before family church people start looking at wells to see if they fell in.
If they find this couple in a well, I'll tell them 'I told you so'. Every encounter I've had with this guy and his world has left me wondering how reality works in that dimension. Nothing ever makes sense, and it is never quite a represented, but then the representation rarely makes sense either. Not showing up to something they know family and friends worked very hard to set up has to be for good reason.
Maybe they know something I don't. Maybe I'll find out tomorrow that they were abducted by aliens, or sent to gitmo to make us safe.
Whatever the case, I think 2 hours is a large enough window of time to allow for ADD, lack of awareness, and the need to be fashionably late. This guy is overly absent minded and quick to shift his attention in an almost randomly chaotic fashion. So, he could easily be walking along looking at something shiny, over there, and fall into a hole, or well, dragging his new wife along.
A mystery to be solved, though I think the truth is that they just showed up late for some complicated reason that would only happen to them. That is the MO. Just not sure.
San Diego county houses maybe a billion Mormons, and big showings for Seventh Day Adventists and some Caledonian thing--they be somewhat foreign--and who knows what other group that would probably piss off the Baptists down south.
I played a little music with a Mormon guy over the last couple of years. I even played for a Mormon event at a Mormon church--or whatever term they use, if not church.
So, that guy was marrying the girl singer, also a Mormon. Mormonette, if you will. You won't? Yea, guess not.
Apparently they do the church stuff and actually get married the night before. That is what they did. Then they have like a reception-party thing the next night. At a mormon place. All their places have a very nice indoor basketball court, which also serves as a banquet hall, dance hall, etc., as needs be. At the end of all of them is a first class stage, complete with curtain.
So, I was invited to the reception, as was the bass player who had played with us. He gave up on that group at same time I did. We figured we were the only non-mormon infidels in the place. We were concerned about the possibility of a sacrificial ceremony. We were concerned that we might be the martyrs of the event.
As it turned out we sat around with a Mormon lady that we know, sampled the buffet, sat around some more. The invitation said it started at 6:30, then at 8 there was to be a ring exchange---I thought you did that when you got married.
It doesn't matter. They never showed up. Family and friends had that place looking like a mild Las Vegas. Lights, glitz. Nothing.
People sat around the tables and talked because they all know one another. Some recorded music was being played. Actually a good selection for what was at hand.
Everyone appeared to believe that the newlywed couple--marriage 2 or 3 for him, 2 for her--was still alive and hadn't fallen into a well, as I posited.
At nearly 8pm, the guy playing dj, announced the couple's phone numbers and suggested barraging them with calls and texts. I didn't hear if any answers were received.
I left at close to 830. Not to show to your own party is a bit odd. He was going to play music and wanted the bass and I to play, was my understanding. The erratic degree of reliability involved with the couple, particularly the groom, has those people conditioned to assume it is due to irresponsibility so I'll bet it will be some time before family church people start looking at wells to see if they fell in.
If they find this couple in a well, I'll tell them 'I told you so'. Every encounter I've had with this guy and his world has left me wondering how reality works in that dimension. Nothing ever makes sense, and it is never quite a represented, but then the representation rarely makes sense either. Not showing up to something they know family and friends worked very hard to set up has to be for good reason.
Maybe they know something I don't. Maybe I'll find out tomorrow that they were abducted by aliens, or sent to gitmo to make us safe.
Whatever the case, I think 2 hours is a large enough window of time to allow for ADD, lack of awareness, and the need to be fashionably late. This guy is overly absent minded and quick to shift his attention in an almost randomly chaotic fashion. So, he could easily be walking along looking at something shiny, over there, and fall into a hole, or well, dragging his new wife along.
A mystery to be solved, though I think the truth is that they just showed up late for some complicated reason that would only happen to them. That is the MO. Just not sure.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
It Won't Matter When I'm Gone
The ever present attack of personal liberty and choice has been going on since before God was helping people win battle with the jawbone of an ass. Things have evolved to the point where the thing is run by the brains of asses.
But, it won't matter if a speeding bus takes me out tomorrow. So, why do I even care? I do not know.
The fact that people are mean and stupid will not change in my life. That assertion is backed by the support given to agencies, which intrude on lives and terrorize citizens, by the citizens themselves, and their alleged representatives.
It is bizarre. The IRS thing should have led to its demise, but no, it becomes dem and rep establishment vs tea party if you read Huffington post. The nature of the acts, and the principles involved mean nothing. The IRS is purely the tool of bullies, is so far outside the law they don't even bother to pretend, yet those who point that out are deemed kooks. Collectivism is like that. Centralized control quickly becomes arbitrarily uneven and abusive.
The 911 pretense still prevails in matters of surveillance and national security. Had they acted upon intelligence they had in hand prior to 911, on more than one front, it may have been prevented. The unlawful collection of data on everyone is not a cure. It is another weapon for those in power to ue against those who may not support those in power. Yet, representatives and citizens seem perfectly OK with this all seeing arbiter of our lives. At least enough of them so that the abuse of power by NSA won't be reigned in.
The whole thing is a very messy, very orchestrated play, which is so muddy and complex that many of the most vocal supporters of an all powerful state, in which we have privileges rather than rights, are unaware of the possibility they may one day be on the receiving end of the monster's wrath. It is enough for them that, right now, their perceived enemies are hurt and don't like it.
People are shamelessly shallow.
Obama administration's assertion that Fast and Furious, Benghazi, IRS, NSA, etc. are "phony scandals" is only true in the context that all these things don't look good for the phonies being exposed. They are not phony scandals. They are symptoms of a society who sees government as their parent or God, and the answer to all ills, even those created by government.
If you think republicans are cool, check the split on the vote to defund NSA over reach. Interesting that strong numbers in both parties were willing to reign in this abomination, but for once in our lives, more democrats wanted to cut funding to this agency.
If you think democrats are cool, I'm sorry for you. Both the dem and rep establishments are immoral, lying, abominations.
Both parties were fairly well split on the issue. Some went through dramatic speeches about 911 to justify trading freedom for an invasive government. The trouble is, proof of anything being claimed is tough to prove or disprove. For one thing, you cannot actually prove how many lives have been saved or snuffed, even though they spout figures and statistics. Can't really prove it.
How much of this global threat we all must fear to the point of giving up our autonomy is the result of a hundred years worth of bad foreign policy? Or just the erroneous notion that God wants the USA to run around the world "spreading democracy" at gun point? We aren't supposed to spread anything.
Oh well. I don't really care that much. I think the obvious mistake of how things are run and people bullied by the state just adds to my mounting personal fears. I'm so tired of being on the edge, in a fog, and in painful solitary that I don't dare own a pistol, although I am for very loose gun laws. Maybe even for no gun laws. The ones in place do little to protect the innocent. Just look at the place with strict laws. They either get violent in other ways or shoot each other regardless of law.
You are safer in most parts of the US than you are in Britain when it comes to violent crime. A a matter of fact, if you take a few of the craziest cities out of the mix, you are safer here than in most of the world.
Not going to change any of that. So, what do I do while I wait for my last breath? I don't know. Not every day do I wake up glad to wake up. Living being should have a bit of a better outlook than that. I am tired of it. I blew it and I can't shake the disappointment, regret and, sometimes, horror that brings.
I'll continue pretending so my family will never know the real deal. I owe them that.
The ultimate answer may be to drink the koolaid, and become another mindless fool following one or another of these parties or movements.
Is it because I am white that women act nervous when I show up in an empty parking garage where they are exiting or entering their cars? Our buddy who saved Guam from capsizing, Rep Hank Johnson, is sure it only happens to black men because we all hate them, and crime statistics in no way indicate that you are more likely to be mugged by a particular age and gender specification of a particular race.
I never discriminate like that. I hide from everyone.
Is it normal that police accused me of a robbery I didn't commit, cornered me in a diner about some bank that jut got robbed, threw me against a wall a few times for poor performance of a breathalyzer test, made me follow a pen in circles and figure 8's for fun when I'd done nothing wrong and hadn't had a drink for more than 20 years, stopped me in my driveway, blocking me in with five cop cars, searched my car, didn't give an excuse for over an hour, then it was a lie, stopped me about five different times for no reason then trumped one up and finally took off, gave me a speeding ticket instead of the person in front of me who was really speeding, gave me a ticket for turning my lights on at night? Is all this because I am white?
If I were black I'd be sure that every unexplained abuse by employers, police and women who broke my heart was all due to race. It is not, and what they are promoting now is only half truths and outright lies. Another shameful Obama ploy to divide.
Oh, and I have been scoped out in department stores and elsewhere. If I walked in acting thuggish, I'd expect it. I expected it in the old days when I was with friends who did not know how to act.
I'm a victim too. I want laws tailored to me, and I want to go stop traffic and break things to prove I'm a victim.
I am no fan of law enforcement in most cases, but mostly because of the laws themselves, and the methods used to enforce laws. Sting operation are 90% entrapment schemes and wrong. Roadblocks and random stops are just wrong. I could go on. But I already went on too long. In many ways
But, it won't matter if a speeding bus takes me out tomorrow. So, why do I even care? I do not know.
The fact that people are mean and stupid will not change in my life. That assertion is backed by the support given to agencies, which intrude on lives and terrorize citizens, by the citizens themselves, and their alleged representatives.
It is bizarre. The IRS thing should have led to its demise, but no, it becomes dem and rep establishment vs tea party if you read Huffington post. The nature of the acts, and the principles involved mean nothing. The IRS is purely the tool of bullies, is so far outside the law they don't even bother to pretend, yet those who point that out are deemed kooks. Collectivism is like that. Centralized control quickly becomes arbitrarily uneven and abusive.
The 911 pretense still prevails in matters of surveillance and national security. Had they acted upon intelligence they had in hand prior to 911, on more than one front, it may have been prevented. The unlawful collection of data on everyone is not a cure. It is another weapon for those in power to ue against those who may not support those in power. Yet, representatives and citizens seem perfectly OK with this all seeing arbiter of our lives. At least enough of them so that the abuse of power by NSA won't be reigned in.
The whole thing is a very messy, very orchestrated play, which is so muddy and complex that many of the most vocal supporters of an all powerful state, in which we have privileges rather than rights, are unaware of the possibility they may one day be on the receiving end of the monster's wrath. It is enough for them that, right now, their perceived enemies are hurt and don't like it.
People are shamelessly shallow.
Obama administration's assertion that Fast and Furious, Benghazi, IRS, NSA, etc. are "phony scandals" is only true in the context that all these things don't look good for the phonies being exposed. They are not phony scandals. They are symptoms of a society who sees government as their parent or God, and the answer to all ills, even those created by government.
If you think republicans are cool, check the split on the vote to defund NSA over reach. Interesting that strong numbers in both parties were willing to reign in this abomination, but for once in our lives, more democrats wanted to cut funding to this agency.
If you think democrats are cool, I'm sorry for you. Both the dem and rep establishments are immoral, lying, abominations.
Both parties were fairly well split on the issue. Some went through dramatic speeches about 911 to justify trading freedom for an invasive government. The trouble is, proof of anything being claimed is tough to prove or disprove. For one thing, you cannot actually prove how many lives have been saved or snuffed, even though they spout figures and statistics. Can't really prove it.
How much of this global threat we all must fear to the point of giving up our autonomy is the result of a hundred years worth of bad foreign policy? Or just the erroneous notion that God wants the USA to run around the world "spreading democracy" at gun point? We aren't supposed to spread anything.
Oh well. I don't really care that much. I think the obvious mistake of how things are run and people bullied by the state just adds to my mounting personal fears. I'm so tired of being on the edge, in a fog, and in painful solitary that I don't dare own a pistol, although I am for very loose gun laws. Maybe even for no gun laws. The ones in place do little to protect the innocent. Just look at the place with strict laws. They either get violent in other ways or shoot each other regardless of law.
You are safer in most parts of the US than you are in Britain when it comes to violent crime. A a matter of fact, if you take a few of the craziest cities out of the mix, you are safer here than in most of the world.
Not going to change any of that. So, what do I do while I wait for my last breath? I don't know. Not every day do I wake up glad to wake up. Living being should have a bit of a better outlook than that. I am tired of it. I blew it and I can't shake the disappointment, regret and, sometimes, horror that brings.
I'll continue pretending so my family will never know the real deal. I owe them that.
The ultimate answer may be to drink the koolaid, and become another mindless fool following one or another of these parties or movements.
Is it because I am white that women act nervous when I show up in an empty parking garage where they are exiting or entering their cars? Our buddy who saved Guam from capsizing, Rep Hank Johnson, is sure it only happens to black men because we all hate them, and crime statistics in no way indicate that you are more likely to be mugged by a particular age and gender specification of a particular race.
I never discriminate like that. I hide from everyone.
Is it normal that police accused me of a robbery I didn't commit, cornered me in a diner about some bank that jut got robbed, threw me against a wall a few times for poor performance of a breathalyzer test, made me follow a pen in circles and figure 8's for fun when I'd done nothing wrong and hadn't had a drink for more than 20 years, stopped me in my driveway, blocking me in with five cop cars, searched my car, didn't give an excuse for over an hour, then it was a lie, stopped me about five different times for no reason then trumped one up and finally took off, gave me a speeding ticket instead of the person in front of me who was really speeding, gave me a ticket for turning my lights on at night? Is all this because I am white?
If I were black I'd be sure that every unexplained abuse by employers, police and women who broke my heart was all due to race. It is not, and what they are promoting now is only half truths and outright lies. Another shameful Obama ploy to divide.
Oh, and I have been scoped out in department stores and elsewhere. If I walked in acting thuggish, I'd expect it. I expected it in the old days when I was with friends who did not know how to act.
I'm a victim too. I want laws tailored to me, and I want to go stop traffic and break things to prove I'm a victim.
I am no fan of law enforcement in most cases, but mostly because of the laws themselves, and the methods used to enforce laws. Sting operation are 90% entrapment schemes and wrong. Roadblocks and random stops are just wrong. I could go on. But I already went on too long. In many ways
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
San Diego Staying Classy
Politics is largely public theater. Never mind that it is a distraction while an army of Artful Dodgers pick your pockets clean.
I must say the San Diego political machines have created some theater that is more peculiar than most.
I'm in SD county, but not city. Huge county. Anyway, the mayor had been annoying people. Some nicknamed him, "the emperor", but I didn't keep up with why. The funny thing is that lot of people said they liked things he'd done as mayor but not how he did them.
Then his own party said he was rubbing his staff the wrong way--literally. They even came up with a name for one of his moves, the Filner headlock.
Demonstrating their inability to do anything sane, republicans are jumping on the bandwagon in self-righteous competition with the democrats who got the band wagon going, and were trying to crank up the self righteous media posturing. Republicans should play quiet calm and sympathetic to the dems who are leading the charge to get rid of their own mayor.
It's like two guitar players trying to one up each other. Each surreptitiously bumping his volume up until you have ear bleed. So the trick to looking better is to subtly encourage the other guitar player to bump his volume beyond sane, while never increasing your own. People can only take so much hysteria. They need breathers.
Everyone is outraged, "on behalf of women everywhere". They are overacting. I peg many of them for creeps, themselves, and the outrage act doesn't ring quite real.
Now his very recently exed fiance has come out with some kind of dirt. Nothing really all that bad compared to the workplace accusations. He may be a creep, but when exes come out with non-essential information just to join the mob, or for revenge, that is kind of low, too.
The classy thing is that they all seem to agree that righteous outrage is the way to play this opportunity. I predict this sort of thing will become more common as it clouds the view of how their power is being used and abused. The impatient will be taking notes. It is the 21st century American answer to a coup or storming the castle to capture or kill the king.
It is great that Filner won't quit. This will drag out the drama. I'm hoping for a complex twist of plot to emerge. Air time guaranteed now that Gloria Allred is involved. If you abuse a position of power, the least you can do is give the public a few months of good theater. Filner has lived on the public dime for quite awhile.
If he's slick, he'll claim this public drama is "his way of giving back".
This is what happens when someone gets away with abusing power and position to grope women, and then he gropes the wrong one. And then other women in the place get the word. No putting back that can of worms.
The downside will be the cost to taxpayers for the probable trial to come. Entertainment involving government and government people is never ever cheap.
I wonder if an Diego could ever be as classy as Hialeah was the last time I lived in Dade County, FL. Hialeah's mayor had to cut his term a little short due to a conviction for embezzling from the city. He did a little time, then ran for mayor again, and won.
That is classy. A city full of people who elect a guy who steals from them then are too crazy not to do it again, enthusiastically. And there are those who think mob rule is fine. They are nuts.
I must say the San Diego political machines have created some theater that is more peculiar than most.
I'm in SD county, but not city. Huge county. Anyway, the mayor had been annoying people. Some nicknamed him, "the emperor", but I didn't keep up with why. The funny thing is that lot of people said they liked things he'd done as mayor but not how he did them.
Then his own party said he was rubbing his staff the wrong way--literally. They even came up with a name for one of his moves, the Filner headlock.
Demonstrating their inability to do anything sane, republicans are jumping on the bandwagon in self-righteous competition with the democrats who got the band wagon going, and were trying to crank up the self righteous media posturing. Republicans should play quiet calm and sympathetic to the dems who are leading the charge to get rid of their own mayor.
It's like two guitar players trying to one up each other. Each surreptitiously bumping his volume up until you have ear bleed. So the trick to looking better is to subtly encourage the other guitar player to bump his volume beyond sane, while never increasing your own. People can only take so much hysteria. They need breathers.
Everyone is outraged, "on behalf of women everywhere". They are overacting. I peg many of them for creeps, themselves, and the outrage act doesn't ring quite real.
Now his very recently exed fiance has come out with some kind of dirt. Nothing really all that bad compared to the workplace accusations. He may be a creep, but when exes come out with non-essential information just to join the mob, or for revenge, that is kind of low, too.
The classy thing is that they all seem to agree that righteous outrage is the way to play this opportunity. I predict this sort of thing will become more common as it clouds the view of how their power is being used and abused. The impatient will be taking notes. It is the 21st century American answer to a coup or storming the castle to capture or kill the king.
It is great that Filner won't quit. This will drag out the drama. I'm hoping for a complex twist of plot to emerge. Air time guaranteed now that Gloria Allred is involved. If you abuse a position of power, the least you can do is give the public a few months of good theater. Filner has lived on the public dime for quite awhile.
If he's slick, he'll claim this public drama is "his way of giving back".
This is what happens when someone gets away with abusing power and position to grope women, and then he gropes the wrong one. And then other women in the place get the word. No putting back that can of worms.
The downside will be the cost to taxpayers for the probable trial to come. Entertainment involving government and government people is never ever cheap.
I wonder if an Diego could ever be as classy as Hialeah was the last time I lived in Dade County, FL. Hialeah's mayor had to cut his term a little short due to a conviction for embezzling from the city. He did a little time, then ran for mayor again, and won.
That is classy. A city full of people who elect a guy who steals from them then are too crazy not to do it again, enthusiastically. And there are those who think mob rule is fine. They are nuts.
Maybe I'm Not A Fish
Sunday I decided to go this Parkway Bar and hole in the wall for an open jam. It was all plugged in, not acoustic at all. That seemed interesting.
I did not know any of the players there. The way they do it is have a sign up sheet with four sets listed. You put your name on any of them and say what you play, like guitar/vocals. These people know one another. I had no idea which set would be a fit.
So, I tried to ask some of the apparent hotshots. No help whatsoever. If I were to pick a word that describes R&B/ rock/loud musicians, or musicians in general, with exceptions for most country/bluegrass/BallisticMountain, "gracious" would certainly NOT be the word.
All these players were really good, and obviously knew what they were playing. You can be the ace of all time, and still be very difficult for a stranger on stage. It is easier to jam with those who are secure enough not to make life a pain for the newcomer.
The main front for my set was a guy whose exaggerated angry frown and over abundance of tattoos seemed to telegraph a message of "I'm Mr Badass and I hate everyone". By the time I left, I think he and I were of the same mindset. For a little while there I hated everyone, too. Including him.
I could not hear myself at all. And it seemed the guy kept pulling out stuff that had irregular and odd progressions. It almost seemed as if he purposely threw curves. I noticed a slight look of shock when he thought a minor key thing would be undoable for me. It happens that minor stuff is usually much easier for me. Once he figured out I had a hot at sinking my teeth into that tune, he made a point not to let that work out. Some guitar players should be sent to an isolated place where they can annoy one another death, rather than foisting themselves upon the innocent and decent.
I stayed the whole set and added what I could, but overall I do not think I did anything to further my standing in that crowd. Maybe if I had the prescribed look it would help. Maybe if my increasing aversion to strange crowds was less intense that would help.
Maybe if I did not dislike a certain type of attitude among musicians I would be OK. I was in disbelief at the lack of information and assistance I received when I asked. Usually people do better than that. They had their cliques, and their fun. I did not have a good time.
I won't be back even though some of what they do attracts me. Overall, as good as it was---and these people were very professional, skill wise--none of it was the kind of thing that lifts me up, makes me want to move, be happy, live.
Certain music hits me like that, and I need everything I can find that make me want to be happy and live.
Maybe I'm too vain. My feeling is that I'm at least as good at what I do as they are at what they do, but I am more original and less of a tired stereotype. But I may be more tired in general. Also, that doesn't mean I'm better to listen to. I'm just tired of so much same old thing from various groups. I must bore more easily than I thought.
I've never liked it at all, on a job or elsewhere, when people play that game of not making life easy for the new person through the door. I've seen it a lot and I try not to be that type. One thing for sure, I've dealt with enough of that in music scenarios to last a life time, and I won't put up with it ever again.
So, I gave it a shot in order to broaden my horizons and I won't deal with those people again. I left wanting to smash their guitars over their affected, empty heads. But I behaved the whole time.
It turns out I may not be where I think I should be, doing what I ought to do, to justify continuing to play, but the people I do play with are good people, not Jr High cool boys and girls showing off and finding satisfaction through exclusion of the unknown. These are the most decent and gracious of any groups with which I've played; the ballistic Mountain three and their friends.
That's how I met Joel many year ago. I answered questions he had that people at the jam wouldn't. I was helpful and often felt shut out myself at that place. Besides, it is simply good manner to repectfully answer sincere questions if you can.
I'm quite mad at myself for waiting it out at that open jam (I played last set), for wasting my time doing something that I would rather not do unless I am good enough to be making some money doing it, for putting up with nonsense, for stagnating in my life, for letting people go, for ever getting divorced, dumped or leaving in error, for being whatever it is that I am. I'm angry for all of it.
One thing for sure, few things in life are more obnoxious than a roomful of people who think they are rock stars. Most likely a room full of real rock stars would be equally annoying, if not more so.
Usually the most real of pop musicians play jazz, country, bluegrass, and such. From the heart, and they know they'll never be rich and famous anyway. I don't think I'm doing much of anything from the heart any more. Seriously, rock and roll types are by far the most closed minded, rude, and insecure of all musicians---speaking in wide generalizations. Facts are facts. Not all are so bad, and many jerks can play well. Still, rude is rude, and creeps are creepy.
Maybe I should do something else. I'm restless and want to move.
Obviously, I regularly pine for places where I am not.
At the Parkway Bar jam I felt like a fish out of water. Now I think it is possible that I'm just not a fish, so why keep trying to be one?
I did not know any of the players there. The way they do it is have a sign up sheet with four sets listed. You put your name on any of them and say what you play, like guitar/vocals. These people know one another. I had no idea which set would be a fit.
So, I tried to ask some of the apparent hotshots. No help whatsoever. If I were to pick a word that describes R&B/ rock/loud musicians, or musicians in general, with exceptions for most country/bluegrass/BallisticMountain, "gracious" would certainly NOT be the word.
All these players were really good, and obviously knew what they were playing. You can be the ace of all time, and still be very difficult for a stranger on stage. It is easier to jam with those who are secure enough not to make life a pain for the newcomer.
The main front for my set was a guy whose exaggerated angry frown and over abundance of tattoos seemed to telegraph a message of "I'm Mr Badass and I hate everyone". By the time I left, I think he and I were of the same mindset. For a little while there I hated everyone, too. Including him.
I could not hear myself at all. And it seemed the guy kept pulling out stuff that had irregular and odd progressions. It almost seemed as if he purposely threw curves. I noticed a slight look of shock when he thought a minor key thing would be undoable for me. It happens that minor stuff is usually much easier for me. Once he figured out I had a hot at sinking my teeth into that tune, he made a point not to let that work out. Some guitar players should be sent to an isolated place where they can annoy one another death, rather than foisting themselves upon the innocent and decent.
I stayed the whole set and added what I could, but overall I do not think I did anything to further my standing in that crowd. Maybe if I had the prescribed look it would help. Maybe if my increasing aversion to strange crowds was less intense that would help.
Maybe if I did not dislike a certain type of attitude among musicians I would be OK. I was in disbelief at the lack of information and assistance I received when I asked. Usually people do better than that. They had their cliques, and their fun. I did not have a good time.
I won't be back even though some of what they do attracts me. Overall, as good as it was---and these people were very professional, skill wise--none of it was the kind of thing that lifts me up, makes me want to move, be happy, live.
Certain music hits me like that, and I need everything I can find that make me want to be happy and live.
Maybe I'm too vain. My feeling is that I'm at least as good at what I do as they are at what they do, but I am more original and less of a tired stereotype. But I may be more tired in general. Also, that doesn't mean I'm better to listen to. I'm just tired of so much same old thing from various groups. I must bore more easily than I thought.
I've never liked it at all, on a job or elsewhere, when people play that game of not making life easy for the new person through the door. I've seen it a lot and I try not to be that type. One thing for sure, I've dealt with enough of that in music scenarios to last a life time, and I won't put up with it ever again.
So, I gave it a shot in order to broaden my horizons and I won't deal with those people again. I left wanting to smash their guitars over their affected, empty heads. But I behaved the whole time.
It turns out I may not be where I think I should be, doing what I ought to do, to justify continuing to play, but the people I do play with are good people, not Jr High cool boys and girls showing off and finding satisfaction through exclusion of the unknown. These are the most decent and gracious of any groups with which I've played; the ballistic Mountain three and their friends.
That's how I met Joel many year ago. I answered questions he had that people at the jam wouldn't. I was helpful and often felt shut out myself at that place. Besides, it is simply good manner to repectfully answer sincere questions if you can.
I'm quite mad at myself for waiting it out at that open jam (I played last set), for wasting my time doing something that I would rather not do unless I am good enough to be making some money doing it, for putting up with nonsense, for stagnating in my life, for letting people go, for ever getting divorced, dumped or leaving in error, for being whatever it is that I am. I'm angry for all of it.
One thing for sure, few things in life are more obnoxious than a roomful of people who think they are rock stars. Most likely a room full of real rock stars would be equally annoying, if not more so.
Usually the most real of pop musicians play jazz, country, bluegrass, and such. From the heart, and they know they'll never be rich and famous anyway. I don't think I'm doing much of anything from the heart any more. Seriously, rock and roll types are by far the most closed minded, rude, and insecure of all musicians---speaking in wide generalizations. Facts are facts. Not all are so bad, and many jerks can play well. Still, rude is rude, and creeps are creepy.
Maybe I should do something else. I'm restless and want to move.
Obviously, I regularly pine for places where I am not.
At the Parkway Bar jam I felt like a fish out of water. Now I think it is possible that I'm just not a fish, so why keep trying to be one?
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Had to Delete
It became clear to me that things get beyond the humor point from time to time. Now is one of those times. Your biting satire and wit could easily be viewed at a glance as incendiary.
So, why knowingly do that? I don't. I see the problem and I take care of it. So, you should hire me to hang out until I see a problem. That way you'll be ahead of the game.
So, why knowingly do that? I don't. I see the problem and I take care of it. So, you should hire me to hang out until I see a problem. That way you'll be ahead of the game.
Monday, July 15, 2013
I May Call My New Song, "The Great Pretense"
Parts of this are really old. The melody I have in mind is one of those kind that never really ends or has a hard resolve. A skip to school, happy go lucky sort of thing. The cheerful melody is a contrast but also fits the point. But it can be talking about whatever you want.
in the distant night
a baby sleeps
a flower screams
a mother weeps
and the fog from the hills
rolls and rolls
stealing the sight
from the valley below
as innocence
alive and free
is spent like a
cheap commodity
by laughing lords
and puppeteers
trading souls
for another beer
and time and time again
my life flashed before my eyes
praying for lightning in the
thundering rain
begged for lightning
yet here I am
and the fog from the hills
rolls and rolls
stealing the sight
from the valley below
you thought
we were lying
when we said
they were dying
see them play
in the shimmering sea
no one hears
a drowning plea
innocence
alive and free
spent like a
cheap commodity
by laughing lords
and puppeteers
trading souls
for another beer
the fog in the hills
rolls and rolls
stealing the sight
from the valley below
the fog in the hills
rolls and rolls
stealing the sight
of the valley below
All rights reserved, of course. No one can use these lyrics for anything except to prove I'm whatever.
If I could write something good, it would look like Heaven, or Volare, or Whiter Shade of Pale
If I had a window, it would look like that one that got shattered
in the distant night
a baby sleeps
a flower screams
a mother weeps
and the fog from the hills
rolls and rolls
stealing the sight
from the valley below
as innocence
alive and free
is spent like a
cheap commodity
by laughing lords
and puppeteers
trading souls
for another beer
and time and time again
my life flashed before my eyes
praying for lightning in the
thundering rain
begged for lightning
yet here I am
and the fog from the hills
rolls and rolls
stealing the sight
from the valley below
you thought
we were lying
when we said
they were dying
see them play
in the shimmering sea
no one hears
a drowning plea
the fog in the hills
rolls and rolls
stealing the sight
of the valley belowinnocence
alive and free
spent like a
cheap commodity
by laughing lords
and puppeteers
trading souls
for another beer
the fog in the hills
rolls and rolls
stealing the sight
from the valley below
the fog in the hills
rolls and rolls
stealing the sight
of the valley below
All rights reserved, of course. No one can use these lyrics for anything except to prove I'm whatever.
If I could write something good, it would look like Heaven, or Volare, or Whiter Shade of Pale
If I had a window, it would look like that one that got shattered
If I Had a Wife, She'd Look Like Nicole
OK. Almost have it all out of my system for now.
In other news, my colleague, Joel, has confessed that he is the one who is nuts and that I am sane, stable and always right.
Not sure if the last part is verbatim, but I'm sure that is what he meant.
----------
A little tip when it comes to caulking in tight places which are still visible so it has to be neat: if you aren't careful it can become messy, tedious and troublesome. If it involves a very small gap, cut the tip so that it has a small opening. Ignore their little guide dents on the nozzle. They just want lots of stuff coming out o you buy more sooner.
A damp finger is the ticket for smoothing it. Also deft use of a sponge, and a case of paper towels help things along.
---------------
I guess the fire is about out up on Sunrise Parkway, Mt. Laguna. It was only 15% contained for days. The whole fire thing, and the fact that little is done in the way of clever prevention to limit the fire's fuel and spread so it doesn't ruin people's lives, makes me think of this location as temporary. Good thing I'm a practiced vagabond. Most of the logical steps are illegal for one reason or another.
So, do you go back to a city that is populated by racists but doesn't catch fire except when they riot? Probably not. I've long viewed learning to love freezing weather as the answer to peaceful living. Places with few rabble rousers and not much population density--in more ways than one--are usually places with harsh winters. Good weather tends to attract riffraff.
---------------
If I had a dog, he'd look like Old Yeller.
.
In other news, my colleague, Joel, has confessed that he is the one who is nuts and that I am sane, stable and always right.
Not sure if the last part is verbatim, but I'm sure that is what he meant.
----------
A little tip when it comes to caulking in tight places which are still visible so it has to be neat: if you aren't careful it can become messy, tedious and troublesome. If it involves a very small gap, cut the tip so that it has a small opening. Ignore their little guide dents on the nozzle. They just want lots of stuff coming out o you buy more sooner.
A damp finger is the ticket for smoothing it. Also deft use of a sponge, and a case of paper towels help things along.
---------------
I guess the fire is about out up on Sunrise Parkway, Mt. Laguna. It was only 15% contained for days. The whole fire thing, and the fact that little is done in the way of clever prevention to limit the fire's fuel and spread so it doesn't ruin people's lives, makes me think of this location as temporary. Good thing I'm a practiced vagabond. Most of the logical steps are illegal for one reason or another.
So, do you go back to a city that is populated by racists but doesn't catch fire except when they riot? Probably not. I've long viewed learning to love freezing weather as the answer to peaceful living. Places with few rabble rousers and not much population density--in more ways than one--are usually places with harsh winters. Good weather tends to attract riffraff.
---------------
If I had a dog, he'd look like Old Yeller.
.
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About Me
- John0 Juanderlust
- Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
- Like spring on a summer's day
