This morning at the bakery it was quiet. We got to talking about relationships and everyone agrees that the major cause of breakup is money. But it emerges that very few people have an idea or opinion of the second most common reason. While many say it is bickering, over-familiarity, and falling out of love, I propose these are merely the symptoms of boredom. That’s my proposal, that boredom is the real secondary cause behind all those things. Show of hands?
Who remembers the original batbike? If you do, your memory is playing tricks on you. It was called the “batcycle”, never the batbike. The batbike is the unique sidecar I have parked in my driveway. Actually, on the concrete patio pad that I never use. Anyway, the batcycle sold on eBay last week for $29,500. It was a Yamaha 250. The sidecar could detach and move on its own using a 55cc engine. The term “batbike” is actually quite rare and I never heard of it before christening my machine. (Later, I will claim the term "batbike" as my own original.)
I gave all the guitar-shaped instruments in the place a good cleaning and polish. I still prefer the Ibanez semi-acoustic. I’m once again looking at that for my chintzy solo act since I’m still not playing out regularly. It’s been years since I had a steady Friday gig, in fact, let me check the exact date. How about that, August 14, 2009? Four long years less five days. I’ve played since then, but not steadily.
I’ve had a few compliments concerning my choice of music in the sense that it is not a style where I have to be an expert guitarist. Ray-B is the most qualified to judge that and he says if you can keep a beat, get out there and play. My hesitation has perpetually been that I can’t play guitar and this stops me. But I do have time for the coffeehouse circuit and I would have no trouble hosting an open mic. What’s stopping me? My lousy guitar playing.
Unless I could find a very undemanding crowd I will always hesitate. There is bound to always be one guitar player in the room who is ten times better than me. Let him up, and I would have to read poetry until he leaves. And for the amount of effort needed to set up the gig, I can’t have that happening.
To my short snapper set I’ve added a prop. Another instrument I’ve got but never learned to play is the harmonica. But I did learn this little riff that fits nearly perfectly after a one-liner. The trick is to move fast and trill it out in that split second before they catch on. Here, try one: “How come a fool and his money are never around when you need him?” Tweedle-deet! See? Gotcha.
Elysium. The movie. Major special effects though nothing new, great acting, and a complicated plot with too many illogical twists. I liked it and here are the reasons why. Off the top of the scale here is the underlying message, which I especially applaud because I’ve delved on the same topic over the years: when humans leave this planet, there are some obvious types that will be left behind. Take a close look at the inhabitants of Elysium and note who (and what) isn’t there. Very interesting.
Plus, Elysium looks like white suburbia, while Earth looks either like East LA or any of a number of countries who fancy themselves culturally superior to America. The movie’s theme is outdated with few wrinkles. It’s the unworthy wealthy against the struggling masses with the usual outcome. The writers are to be commended for the clichés they avoided. There is no strip club scene, no tattoed women, and no queers. Bravo! The rich are not portrayed as decadent, just as parents looking out for their children as best they can.
Toward the end, the plot gets a little sucky. The kid with leukemia looks too bright-eyed to be on death’s bed. They have pods that cure every known disease and can even restore a man’s face, yet our hero manages to die standing right next to one. The single mother bit is overdone to the usual degree and same with the black president. Mind you, the robots do a credible job of acting like this countries new militarized police forces. I mean, do police really need assault helicopters?
Summer is pest time in Florida. If life was fair, the mice would eat all the roaches and then go away because there’s no food left. I’ve got an aversion to using chemicals in the kitchen. If you do find a mouse hole, a helpful hint is to stuff it with steel wool. They will not eat through that material.
Somebody is posting a quote they say is Ben Franklin, but it doesn’t sound like old Ben. Goes, “If you don’t want to be forgotten the moment you die, write something worth reading or do something worth writing about.” I agree. But I’ve read several collections of quotes by the guy and I have never seen that one. Most people in this blog will be remembered no other way. So if you are an asshole, watch the fuck out. When I die, there are several sets of instructions out there how to press a couple keys and replace most (but not all) of the bad people’s blog names with their real names. There are a lot of losers out there who ought to hope I never kick the bucket.
The keystrokes will also reveal another group of persons who are NOT displayed in this blog at the present time, although not because I favor them. Circumstances protect them. These are the gang who are still in a position to cause me trouble (like Marie P.), those who are "just doing their jobs" to my detriment (like John N.), and those who’s exposure would cause even more grief (like Greg M.). No names mentioned, but there are around forty such individuals who will have no defense once I’m gone. Their reputations will be totally destroyed by what I have to say, it is out of my hands now. No, not you Ken. You took care of that yourself when you didn't pay back my loan.
ADDENDUM
It is a device for keeping your wine bottle tilted. My understanding is that wine was to be stored with the neck slightly downward to keep the cork moist. Maybe this is for after the wine is already open? Other sources say the cork will give the wine a bitter taste. I avoid the confusion by not drinking wine, which in itself avoids other kinds of confusion. I mean, have you ever met a wino? This contraption? Wait for it to go on sale. Or keep reading this blog until I find some ingenious use for it. (Later, it seems to have disappeared. Poof! Gone.)
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