Last Post Before The Great Pilgrimage To NYC...

    Stephanie gave me a good trick for getting my keyboard clean... rubbing alcohol and cotton swabs...

    Worked great, keyboards are gross.

    My Dad has a saying that goes something like, "The minute you try to not think about bananas, all you think about all weekend is bananas"... or in my case tattoos. A few years ago I became totally obsessed with them after I got my first one and wound up getting a few more of them over a two year period. I was like a man possessed, I couldn't wait for the next time the needle pierced my skin and was completely drawn to old school tatts...



    What's happened as the years have gone by, however, is that I can't seem to stop thinking about them... constantly- almost to the point of obsession. I must be nuts, I did the same thing about God until I found myself screaming out the window of my truck at the top of my lungs, trying to relieve the agony of recurring thoughts I can't control. I've felt that way in relationships as well-trying to "figure it out" and wondering why this isn't "working."

     I don't hate any of the tattoos, I just find it frustrating that they ended up occupying so much of my mind space (nature abhors a vacuum). Tattoo removal isn't an option, it's expensive and painful but I did find this on the world wide inter-web (on a sidebar George W. calls it the "internets", rednecks here add S's to word that don't need them as well- Save-Ons instead of Save-On , Safeways instead of Safeway, chequings as opposed to chequing and Fairweathers instead of Fairweather)...

    Anyway, if you bothered to read the article at all it basically says that the more you try not to think about something the more your brain focuses on what you're trying not to think about which brings us back to what dear old Dad said about bananas. 

    He also said, "It seemed like a good idea at the time." 

 Finally, since I'm going to New York I had to (well I guess I didn't have to) post videos by two of my favorite New York rock bands... or just rock bands period...

You Either Love 'Em Or Hate 'Em...

For Stephanie...

Aah, The Miracle They Call YouTube...

Only Three More Sleeps 'Til The Big Apple...

    Finally figured out how to "flip photo" with iPhoto! No more backward ball cap logos...a friend of mine did the KC cap for me- ees pretty dang exciting, huh? 

    Going on this trip reminded me of this scene from the first Vacation movie...a classic... 

   This little spider has been living in the corner of the room for two weeks and hasn't moved. What I want to know is, what the heck is he living on without a web?


   Speaking of web, a couple of things I found on the intro-web this morning...

     The quote sounds good anyhow.

There Wasn't A Pogues Video For This Song But It's One Of My Favorites...

Up Last Night 'Til 3 AM...Does That Make Any Sense?

My Lettuce Is Tight...

     I had to get my lettuce tightened today. The barber was this old Italian guy that George Harvey goes to-- talks a little too loud and has a pretty strong accent considering he's been here most of his life. I honestly don't know how he makes a living where his shop is but he's been there 40 years... what do I know?

    Anyhoo, when I arrived back home there was a black wallet lying in the middle of the alley behind my place. I parked the car and went over and picked it up, hoping for about 10 1000 dollar bills within. As I was walking up to my apartment I hadn't looked in the wallet yet but asked myself what I would do if there was a chunk of money in it. People always say they don't care about the money they only want their ID and cards back. I think the opposite- I want the cash back, I can get new ID and credit cards. It turned out there wasn't any money in it and after checking the drivers license I recognized him as somebody who lives in my building.

   I proceeded to knock on the door to his suite when the thought occurred to me, "What if there was money in the wallet and somebody else had already picked it up, taken the cash and simply dropped the wallet?" A bit of panic set in as I heard footsteps but no one came to the door. Rather than being suspected of being a thief I just left the wallet by the door and took off... what would you do?

    I had to get some new dress shoes for the trip...sure, any excuse for new shoes...

Lake Of Fire...

       This monument was put up at the Catholic church by my place...

      It made me think of a movie I watched a little while ago called Lake Of Fire...

     As you can tell by the trailer it's about pro-life/pro choice abortion battle in the States and the religious lunatics that fuel that fire. I realize it's a complicated issue and the only thing I can really say after seeing the movie is the same thing I've always thought-- It should be left up to the woman to decide. That having been said I had a couple of thoughts during the movie that nobody ever brought up...

    The fanatics that are supposedly pro-life are usually "born again Christians." From my own reading and personal experiences with church, most of mainstream Christianity worships a God that rewards believers in his son Jesus with a mansion in heaven and provides a place of eternal and agonizing torment for all non-believers. No need to sugar coat it, that is the bottom line message at the heart of Christianity.

    Try to follow my logic here. There was a statistic in the movie that stated since Roe vs Wade  

in 1973 an estimated 35,000,000 abortions have been performed. Since roughly 1/4 of the worlds population is Christian, let's say for the sake of argument that had they been born only 8.75 million of those 35,000,000 would have been Christian. That would mean that 26.25 million people would wind up as more hell fodder. If life begins at conception as they say it does (I'd have to agree) and God knew you before the womb then if that fetus was aborted would it not go straight to heaven and avoid all the trials and tribulations (not to mention risking a one way ticket to hell) here on earth? It seems to me anyway, that the whole point of the Christian religion is to try to get to heaven so wouldn't you basically skip a step? 

    This might be way out there as well but let's say you're a church going, God fearing Christian couple and you've decided to have a baby. You might want to think long and hard if you want to risk bringing that child into the world because as hard as you try, there's a good chance that person may not grow up to share your beliefs and they could wind up in hell also.

    As crazy as these Christians seem sometimes you can't fault them for taking the bible literally. For them it is the infallible, unfaltering word of God and misguided or not they're acting on what they believe.

    There are scenes in the movie where abortion doctors are shot. What happened to "Thou Shalt Not Kill?".... Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition...

Hilarious...

I have to dedicate this one to George Harvey...

Apeman...

The Kinks were so far ahead of the curve that the masses had a hard time "getting them." This is one of their classics...

No Surprises...

    From the very first time I heard this I thought it would make the perfect funeral song, entering or leaving the service...



You can add this Radiohead song to that playlist as well, one of my favorites...

What The World Needs Now Is Another Top Ten...

In yesterdays blog I tried to post my ten favorite/influential songs. All day today (well maybe not all day) I found myself mulling over the songs that didn't make it. So here they are, not that anyone really cares (again in no special order)...

     ~ Hey Ladies- The Beastie Boys

     ~ Pretty Vacant- The Sex Pistols

     ~ Like A Prayer- Madonna

     ~ Straight Outta Compton- N.W.A.

     ~ Born To Run- Bruce Springsteen

     ~ Twentieth Century Boy- T-Rex

     ~ Baby Got Back- Sir-Mix-Alot

     ~ Fake Plastic Trees- Radiohead

     ~ Wonderwall- Oasis

     ~ O.P.P.- Naughty By Nature

    ~ Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough- Michael Jackson

    ~ A Small Victory- Faith No More

     As I write this a flood of songs come to mind- top tens don't work...well maybe...

     I was off work early today so I got busy cleaning the crib (that's hip lingo for "apartment")...

      On my knees scrubbing floors, I was thinking, "F@ck, do I hate cleaning." As I had that thought it occurred to me that although I hate it now it always feels good after I'm finished. So it seemed the logical conclusion to this line of thinking was, Top Ten things you hate doing but feel better after they're done...

      10- Buying snow tires/getting brakes done.

      9- Getting your teeth cleaned. 

      8- Having a mole examined.

      7- Visiting family.

      6- Smoking relaxing crack. (I'm not serious, it's just fun to say "crack")

      5- Getting a haircut.

      4- Reading instructions.

      3- Doing the Grouse Grind.

      2- Quitting drinking (of course I'm kidding).

      1- Wearing a condom (vague memories).

Music...

      I've been helping a friend of mine paint for the last couple of days, he's a native Vancouverite but moved to San Diego a few years ago. Housing starts and the economy are slow there so he's here for the summer to work--but enough about that.

     The sort of interesting thing is that he has his daughter Cassidy (she actually changed her name to Danger and signs things with the nuclear symbol) helping him. They were recently united after never having met her for the first 20 years of her life (she's 22) and are in the process of bonding now. I won't go into much more detail than that but speaking of bonding... 

     When I got to the job Monday it was the second time I've met her. I immediately noticed her Ramones purse on the counter (turned out she had a Ramones wallet as well... awesome). She was playing her iPod and being interested in other peoples music, I was anxious to hear hers. It turns out she had quite eclectic, varied and excellent taste... Nirvana, Johnny Cash, Beastie Boys, Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, Cher, Kiss, Linkin Park, Massive Attack, Bare Naked Ladies, Elvis Costello, The Specials, Stone Temple Pilots, Madonna, Beck, etc. It's like we became instant friends and had a certain understanding of one another because we both spoke the same musical language.

    Cassidy is a real music fan, it visibly excites her-- she has a Curt Kobain tattoo, a Dave Grohl tattoo and is waiting to get Madonna. She told me she lost her iPod once on the same day her computer crashed. She was so devastated about losing six years of  collecting her favorite songs she had to take a week off work to recover from the loss. She doesn't buy or download just any music either, every single song has to move her in some way and her iPod is only loaded with her absolute  favorite songs, no filler.

     Today at work I plugged in my iPod and it was almost unbelievable how similar our tastes were. Cassidy would freak out when it a was a song she had or one she really needed. I saw her short list of songs she heard on mine and wanted-- Thompson Twins- Hold Me Now, Zombies- Time Of The Season and Steely Dan- Rikki Don't Lose That Number. 

    Invariably the musical topic came around to top ten.  She told me a her top ten songs (sorry I can't remember them all) and said that a few years ago she had written them on a piece of paper (no particular order) and had it laminated, "I'm cool that way." she said matter of factly. 

    So I started to think, if  Cassidy, being the passionate music fan that she is, can narrow it dow n to a top ten, I'm going to give it a try. Problem is I know way more songs than her but here it is in no particular order... the criteria being a consistent emotional (chills) response to each song and amount of times played (not that I know but it's a lot)...

      ~ Sheena Is A Punk Rocker- Ramones

      ~ The Streets Have No Name- U2

      ~ Until It Sleeps- Metallica

      ~ Enjoy The Silence- Depeche Mode

      ~ Bizarre Love Triangle- New Order

      ~ I Fought The Law- The Clash

      ~ Wig Wam Bam- The Sweet

      ~ Man In The Box- Alice in Chains

      ~ Interstate Love Song- Stone Temple Pilots

      ~ Linkin Park- Crawling

   That was tough and I was going to post some "Honorable Mentions" but what difference would it make, you can't fit them on the laminated "Top Ten"--maybe another blog...

    

My Favorite Scene Of All Time...

This Rocks...

The Pilgrimage...

     It's around a week and a half until the trip to New York City. I haven't really thought about it too much but this weekend I was contemplating why I decided to go and the first reason that came to mind was Yankee Stadium. It's the last year it's going to be open and I've never been to a Major League Baseball game. 


     I wasn't always a Yankees fan. The first teams I remember cheering for when I was a kid in the early seventies were the Cincinnati Reds with Johnny Bench, Pete Rose, Tony Perez and Joe Morgan-- and the Oakland  A's with that awesome pitching staff of Vida Blue, Catfish Hunter, Blue Moon Odum and Rollie Fingers (even their names were awesome). As I got older though and these two mini-dynasties came to an end, I somehow became drawn to the Yankees and have been a fan ever since.  I cheer for the Toronto Blue Jays as well...you gotta support your team but baseball just isn't as interesting for me when the Yankees aren't involved.

    

     It kind of got me thinking about how baseball was always part of my life and recalled starting little league-- when my best friend Jerry Donders and I made it through tryouts to be taken by the same team...

    We were given our uniforms, donned them and went to the ballpark even though we didn't play that day. There was a game on at the time and one of the older kids asked us when we played. We said we didn't have a game that day to which he replied, "Not cool to wear your uniform if you're not playing." Ouch.

    Mom and I never had many bonding moments growing up but I loved the times she would "have a catch"  with me in the backyard and let me "burn 'em in" as hard as I could... until I'd throw a wild one into the back of the house. We're done.

    Anyhoo, I don't want to take a completely boring trip down memory lane here. Well maybe a little bit. Baseball cards-- opening up the pack, having a sniff of the bubble gum/cardboard combination and finding the treasure within covered with powdered sugar. Finally getting Johnny Bench or Vida Blue and trying to chew that thin slab of godawful pink bubblegum.

    Most of my adult life I played baseball in some form or another, often three or four days a week. From the absolutely pathetic but fun Freak Brothers in Port Moody-- to West Van recreation league champs in 1997. 

     Great times playing competitive orthodox softball at Mahon park in North Van. Hitting my first grand slam, finishing first two years in a row but losing in the finals, the three day tournaments, trips to Gibsons, friendships and girlfriendsips made and lost... don't get me started.

     What I've been trying to communicate is the thought I had this weekend. That for me, going to Yankee Stadium for me is like a Muslim making his required once in a lifetime trip to Mecca or a Catholic visiting the Vatican... except without all the religion, hellfire and you get to see a ball game in New York City... 

      

On The Waterfront...

Steel heeled Stilettos...

      As I posted in a previous blog, I have a bit of a foot thing. Nothing too serious, just appreciate a nice foot in almost anything open-toed...

    Don't really care for the fancy polish and all the toe rings but you get the idea.

    Anyway, I was surfing around on facebook this afternoon in a group called "Believers in Christ" and a young woman had this video posted on her page. She belonged to a group called "Sexy Stiletto Bitches."(who doesn't?).

      This isn't her in the video-- I guess I just found it a little odd... but who am I to judge? 

      Whoever it is walks pretty good in these things...

    Interesting, but not really my cup of tea.

Super Powers??

    When I was a kid,  Mom had busted me for some minor crime or misdemeanor I had committed  and I asked her how she knew. She replied with, "Mom's have eyes in the back of their heads." My sense of sarcasm hadn't quite caught up with hers and I remember staring at the back of her head looking for the eyes (I also really didn't know what, "You make a better door than a window" and "Close the door, we're not heating all of Burnaby" meant either). 

      I was convinced that Moms must possess some sort of  super powers because she also had this uncanny ability to detect when I was lying and know when we were getting into trouble because it was "too quiet" down there...

    As I got older I realized Moms didn't really have any super powers, they were just way smarter than their kids but I did, however, have an amazing encounter with some bionic hearing later on in life.

    "P" and I had dated for a couple of years in the late nineties and although we don't see each other that often, we're still good friends today. Which just reminded me of something a girlfriend said to me once when I boldly stated that I'm pretty much friends with all my exe's... she said, "That's what you think." Point taken...


      But I digress. At this time, I would usually go for a run Sunday mornings, shower, knock back a Caesar at home then  head over to "P"s place to decide what we were going to do for the day. This one particular Sunday (it was around noon) she wasn't quite ready so I took my place on her couch, remote in hand. She was in the bathroom running a bath so I thought I'd grab (sneak) myself a beer (any Canadian worth his salt knows that a Caesar must be washed down with an ice cold beer). Fully aware that I was likely to catch a little flack for having a brew so early (it was after noon), I took a few necessary precautions.
     I could hear the bath water running and the door was only open about six inches to a foot so I seized my chance. Making my way to the fridge I eased the door open, grabbed myself a can of Canadian and made my way back to the couch.  

     Working quickly I turned up the volume on the T.V., grabbed one of the cushions, covered the can to muffle the sound and slowly peeled back the tab. Immediately after I did "P"s voice echoed from the bathroom, "You're not having a beer already are you?!?" 

     I couldn't believe it! Between the running water, the volume of the idiot box and the couch cushion silencer, she somehow managed to hear the opening of that can. We laugh about it today and if I had it to do over the "quick" opening may have been a tad quieter than the slow one I attempted (like tearing a bandage off)... but it still astounds me she heard me pop that top...

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished...

     During what I can only label as the "intensely seeking" period of my life, I determined that one way I could attain perfect enlightenment was to "give." My roommate and I decided to adopt a starving child, the ones we all cringe at on those infomercials. I think it was around $30 a month. Not long after sending the cheque off, I received a package in the mail with some information and a picture of Yolanda from Ecuador...


     Things went along OK for a while, I would send the $30 off and would receive the occasional correspondence from "Yolanda." The letters and accompanying drawings were obviously written and drawn by an adult but would always include the disclaimer, "assisted by field office." This meant somebody was in a high-rise somewhere churning out these doodles and progress reports about school and family that had never met her or Ndoogo or whoever. 

    This continued for a few months until I started to receive the "special request" letters. Could you send an extra $25 because it was "shoe month" or " art supply month ?" (Yolanda must have needed new pencil crayons to keep those "authentic" drawings coming). It was a reputable charity but came across as a little deceitful and taking advantage of peoples spirit of giving (not to mention the other "G" word... guilt). I used to think that all the money they spent on correspondence they could just put towards the kids.

    I probably could have just sent the money but at the time I was donating to just about any charity that asked, Heart and Stroke Foundation, Billy Graham, Big Brothers, some Firefighters Fund, tithing at a church I was attending and handing out cash to homeless people... which reminds me of one quick story...

    One Saturday afternoon I was crossing the street at the southeast corner of Burrard and Robson...

      It was crowded as it usually is weekend afternoons and about halfway through the intersection I was approached by an elderly gentleman who requested some spare change. Reaching into my pocket I retrieved a two-nie and as I dropped the coin into his hand I said the words I'll never forget, "There you go, chief." 

    He absolutely loses it, " Don't you ever fuckin' call me chief... ever !!!" Totally surrounded by the Robson faithful I wanted to crawl under a rock. I know better than to call anyone chief (he wasn't even native) and to this day I don't know why it came out of my mouth- I knew it was a mistake as soon as I said it.

    Anyway like the title of this post says, no good deed goes unpunished... and hopefully Yolanda turned out fine without my donations...

If There Is A God That Created All Of The Beauty And Wonder That Is Our Universe...

    When did he decide the pious and devout needed to wear such bizarre and varied headgear?