Gimli and I

Playing around with Animoto, this slide show-making site.

h/t: Kiley

Keeper of the Ragtime

Who among the next generation will play the "Maple Leaf Rag?" Ragtime composer and aficionado Keeper mentions an upcoming documentary that poses a similar, if larger, question on the future of this most American music. It is beyond me to perpetuate ragtime. (I can't even remember to save the coupons from Dominos.) But I encourage others and hope they succeed. And while they're at it, bring back the straw boater.

Knee Update and Fast Old Man

In Japan, a 60-year-old man ran a marathon in two-hours and thirty-eight minutes. That's like, freaking impossible. Yet, he did it anyway, breaking an 18-year world age group record. Congratulations to Yoshihisa Hosaka. You are a cool dude.

Meanwhile, my running recovery mines untapped levels of diagnosis. The orthopaedist I saw yesterday suggested torn knee cartilage. An MRI would clear matters up. For cost reasons, I must first try and convince my new HMO doctor to authorize such a procedure. Perhaps I'll succeed this time. I can use the savings to fly to Japan and hang out with Hosaka. How do you run that fast, man? How do you run . . . period. Let's watch "Silent Library."

Sony's New Tech Hottie

(If you have kids, turn the volume down.)


h/t: Freakazoid! writer Ken Segall ("Two Against Freak" and "Arms Akimbo.")

Off the Canvas - Again

Since 2007, my friend Dale has battled cancer. He went into remission, but last November, the hospital reported his cancer had returned Stage IV ("cancers have often metastasized, or spread to other organs or throughout the body") and did he have a will. Dale considered simply staying home and waiting for the Reaper. However, for the sake of family, he agreed to a final, desperate, double-chemo, go-round. With more determination than hope, Dale shaved his head in advance of baldness and prepared his mind and spirit to fight. 

Last Sunday, he announced his disease had retreated sufficiently, and that doctors had given him the Okay, to return to work part-time. He was laughing and in good spirits as only someone who has evaded cancer's pitiless grip can be. I think he's also glad he battled in the face of dire odds and didn't cede life because of chemo loathing. I've seen the difference his recovery has made to his family, faces once heavy with loss, now bright with relief.

What will happen long term, I cannot say. There is an operation ahead, and more chemo, but a corner seems to have been turned and Dale has been rewarded with a gift of days. How he handles this gift will be a challenge. Life absorbs us. Having faced death, it's not something we want to dwell on. Soon it seems you've never had bigger problems than bills and stuff to fix around the house. But for now, there's joy in Dale's household, and going out for sushi, and watching Ultimate Fighting Championships with his teenage son on TNT.  

 

PAMF

Moving some heavy boxes yesterday and jammed my left middle finger. This morning, it had an interesting new crook. I am now in possession of a passive-aggressive middle finger. I can flip a guy off and use the new bend to indicate that I really meant someone nearby at an oblique angle. (Unwise, but theoretically interesting.) Luckily, I visit the orthopedist tomorrow for my knees. While he's got the x-ray out, he can zap my pamf. Between my knees and finger, I'll have enough radiation pumped in me to light up Pasadena. From there, perhaps work with the Atomic Energy Commission. In time, exile to a Channel Island, where I'll glow and kill goats. Don't move heavy boxes, please. Invest in a home forklift. That was my downfall, playing it cheap. Get the forklift. Your family, government and Channel Island wildlife will thank you.

Dental Singers

My dentist's office used to play KOST (local LA radio station), easy-listening music. Recently, the office has switched to a track playing songs I haven't heard anywhere. Today while waiting to have my teeth cleaned, I caught "Mission of My Soul." In this tune, the singer desired to be a garden to someone else's flower. In "Crossing the Sea," another singer offered to help someone actually cross the sea if that particular action  was desired. These singers seem like very generous people. My mother-in-law moved from the Bay Area to Los Angeles and I didn't want any part of that action. I can't imagine helping her move across the ocean, say from LA to the Cook Islands or Sumatra. Anyway, the singers have shamed me. I'll try not to be so selfish. If you need help moving, please call my mother-in-law. She has a lot more experience than me. You won't be disappointed.

Noteworthy Addition

Welcome to old Warner chums (and champion composers) Steve and Julie Bernstein as they set aside their keyboards and climb aboard the blog train for hours of non-lucrative, yet stimulating, fun. You meet a better class of unemployed here.

Shhhhhh!!!

MDW and I returned from seeing Gran Torino - which I liked a lot. However, the coming attractions had a tedious sameness. Like the synchronized drivers of Dallas, different studios are releasing similar films dealing with a small group fighting back against a massive conspiracy by:

1. A giant billion-dollar corporation whose reach goes "all the way to the top."

2. A giant bank underwriting dictatorial regimes with tentacles everywhere and a reach that goes "all the way to the top."

3. Something else where a there's a conspiracy that doesn't go all the way to the top, but extends part of the way, stops, takes the stairs, rests and has a smoke, then gets off on the wrong floor, but sees the snack cart and stops for a Danish. Later, it reaches the top by freight elevator. 

I might Netflix the last one.

Paul Rugg as Stephen Hawking

Another coup by Paul Rugg as he scores an advance track off Professor Stephen Hawking's new comedy album, "Hawking Goes BANG!!!!"

Iceland is MINE!

Paul Rugg and his accountant left far too soon. The frosty island nation fell into my hand today like a ripe naval orange. And all I did was respond to an unsolicited email.  This fellow in Nigeria said his dad was once Secretary of Money for all Iceland. Anyway, there was a coup and his dad died after being gored by a war reindeer. Anyway, this Nigerian guy said his dad had stashed several billion dollars in a bank on Lichen Island, which I assume is right near Iceland. He said he needs my bank routing number and account information so that he can get the money out and, in return, grant me title and deed to Iceland. I'm not sure how that works, but once I've taken possession, I can summon the war reindeer and invade Greenland which is closer to Los Angeles and which I'd rather have anyway. So, wish me luck and come visit me in Greenland. (Or Johnland. I'll have to see how much it'll cost to change the stationary. If it's too much, it'll stay Greenland.) Anyway, this is great! I'm going out now and buy fur garments.