smays.com

Questions.

What I want to ask you is
Who are you?
Where are you?
Are you dreaming?
Are you there? The way I'm here?
Pattern Recognition, page 256

Next slide, please.

Dedicate. Consecrate. Hallow. This illustrates why Powerpoint is evil.

My best review to date.

A recent visitor to this space "...feels she knows your friends better than most of her own family." We could wonder about her relationship with her family but let's not. It makes me glad I started writing some of this down.

Apophenia.

The spontaneous perception of connections and meaningfulness in unrelated things. I feel a little better knowing there's a name for it. You can explore the concept further in Pattern Recognition.

I'm ready for my close-up

All home movies should be sixty seconds in length. That won't make them good, just watchable. I re-edited some 30 year old home movies last weekend and brought 'em in right at a minute. I added a little music and that seemed to help as well. RP projected the original 8mm film on a bedsheet and shot VHS video. You'll want to download these before you try to view them. Each file is about 2.5 meg so don't try it on a dial-up. [Sniper] [Westside Flasher]

I forsee that this movie will suck

Total Recall is no longer the dumbest movie dealing with the subject of memory. Paycheck now holds that dubious distinction. Uma Thurman has been in a couple of Quentin Tarantino movies so she knows what a good script looks like. Hell, Ben Affleck has helped write a good script. I'm going to rent Memento and try to erase the last hour and fifty minutes.

Your heart's good sense and wisdom.

Halley describes prayer as "...getting into a quiet, meditative state in order to hear the inner wisdom of God's intention and your own quiet heart and belief."

Christmas in Kennett.

I converted these images to grayscale because RP is convinced black and white photos are superior to color. Natalie was born less than two weeks ago. RP and Becca's first grandchild. If you see me holding an assault rifle, you can trust that a) it's not loaded and b) I'm posing for a photo. The image of RP's wall of photos is big and does not begin to capture the scale and power...the historical gestalt of the real thing. It covers one entire wall of the kitchen, with room for just a handful of new pix. I think we're all a little fearful that RP will evaporate when the wall is complete.

Update: More photos that got lost in the conversion from Blogger to Typepad. I'll try to find a repost. 8/5/05

Tech lust.

I promised myself I'd never give Barb another tech toy for Christmas but this year she asked for a new mobile phone to replace her ancient Nokia. The Handspring Treo 600 is one nifty phone/PDA. If they get any better than this, I'll have to break down and go mobile again.

Is that a camera in your pocket?

I've missed a lot of great pictures because my camera was out in the car and not in my pocket. Last Christmas I bought a tiny Casio Exilim for Barb. She loves it and keeps it in her purse. This year, Santa brought me the EX-S3 and I vow to keep it with me at all times. I think I can even get it past the strip search.

Seems right to me.

"When your heart breaks, you should die." -- Angels in America (HBO)

And he'd have a great blog.

"Memory, Agent Starling, is what I have instead of a view." -- Dr. Hannibal Lecter, Silence of the Lambs

Wal-Mart Super Centers, etc.

From a website called Scarf Creations:

"Mike Smith has been a Elvis fan since he was 3 years old, when he heard his dad's 8 track of Elvis. Mike's career started when he was 25 years old and he performed in Kennett, Missouri. Mike has performed throughout Missouri, Arkansas, Illinois and Tennessee... at private parties, nursing homes, charity events, country clubs, restaurants, Wal-Mart Super Centers, etc. I perform in three stages of "Elvis" from his wild suits, 68 leather , to his most famous jumpsuits."

"Besides doing Elvis, Mike works full time for Pepsi Mid-America in Sikeston, Missouri. I have performed 75 shows in the 3 years of my career as an Elvis impersonator and my recent being "The Jailhouse Rock" in Illinois."

Christmas in Kennett

We're blogging this Christmas Eve from Terry and Nancy's home in Kennett. Everyone but Ripley and I are packed in at the First Presbyterian Church for the annual choral extravaganza.

A few minutes ago I had some delicious chicken salad that Nancy made. She said it was quite likely that Lance Armstrong enjoyed some of this very same chicken salad earlier today. He and Sheryl Crow were in for an early Christmas and Nancy sent over some sandwiches. We are but two ships, knoshing in the night.

You shouldn't have.

Merlin has identified the five most depressing "Christmas Gifts" for sale at Walgreens. You'll find them, along with other holiday goodies, at 5ives.

Sopranos spoiler.

David Weinberger thinks he knows how the Sopranos will end.

Remembering Rush.

I rarely hear Rush Limbaugh anymore but caught a few minutes this morning while packing. He was whining about his legal woes. I flashed back to high school, around 1962.

It's just after lunch and the lobby where everyone gathers before afternoon classes is packed. Some of the senior boys are playing keep-away with Rush's hat. Rush is a chubby freshman that is relentlessly tormented. He's near tears and the older boys are loving it. A blazing hatred shines from Rush's eyes. Someday, you fuckers, someday!

Whew, where'd that come from?

The past we imagined

"The future is there, looking back at us. Trying to make sense of the fiction we will have become. And from where they are, the past behind us will look nothing at all like the past we imagine behind us now."

Almost a year ago, I posted this line from William Gibson's Pattern Recognition. It still bothers me to think that my past (good and bad) is not fixed. Permanent. That today's past will look different to a future me. On the other hand, I'll probably feel differently tomorrow.

Smart and funny.

My friend Kay is the "Diva of the Iowa press corps" and frequently called on by the national networks for insight into Iowa politics (like the upcoming Iowa Caucuses). You can watch her do her stuff January 16 at 9:00 p.m. CT when she appears "On the Record with Greta Van Susteren" (Fox News Channel). She did a similar shot last January.

More Billy Collins poetry

The poem I couldn't remember was by Billy Collins. Here's another:

Flames

Smokey the Bear heads
into the autumn woods
with a red can of gasoline
and a box of wooden matches.

His ranger's hat is cocked
at a disturbing angle.

His brown fur gleams
under the high sun
as his paws, the size
of catcher's mitts,
crackle into the distance.

He is sick of dispensing
warnings to the careless,
the half-wit camper,
the dumbbell hiker.

He is going to show them
how a professional does it.

Hello? Hello?

Is anyone really surprised by this? PS: I don't have a mobile phone. I've had one before. Twice. But it was hard to talk over that rumbling sound your tires make as you drift off the highway. I de-phoned before I killed someone.

I know it's in here somewhere.

A few weeks ago (?) I posted a small piece from a poem. I can't remember shit about this post (name of the poem, the poet, nothing) except I liked it. I know some of you have read more of my stuff (at least more recently) than I have. Can you help me find my way back to this post?

Untold stories

I think the best part of publishing (?) a website is connecting with others. I get the most amazing email from strangers who google their way to my sites. Got a couple tonight. Maybe it's the holidays. People are wondering about old friends:

"By chance I typed into Google the name Norman Shainberg as part of the research I'm helping my father with. Mr. Shainberg and my father were in the same room together at Stalag IX C known as Meiningen, during the WWII. IX C was a camp for Krieges who were recovering from wounds prior to being shipped out to more permanent locations. Dad's note book indicates that Mr. Shainberg was the pilot of a Boston, and that he had lost his leg to the propellor upon bailing out over Pas de Calais, France in July 1944. Is Mr. Shainberg still alive? My father is well and lives in Montreal. I'll have to direct Dad to your web site, he'll be very interested."

Unfortunately Mr. Shainberg died about 20 years ago. But it sounds like he lived an amazing life.

Perspective.

Listening to XM Radio this weekend, where George Carlin reminded me that "This country was founded by a group of slave owners who wanted to be free."

5ives.

Merlin, lives in San Francisco, California where he "drinks coffee and listens to Canadian power pop" and makes lists. Let's add Merlin to the list of people I'd like to know just a little bit.

Five good responses for telemarketers or collection agencies:

1. I'm sorry, but what does this have to do with human sacrifice?
2. Seriously, will you still be this interested in me after we've dated for a while?
3. Would you be able to tell if I were defecating right now?
4. I am French. Your money means nothing to me.
5. I can smell your panties through the phone.

It's the story.

Doc Searls on giving presentations (Don't Let Presentation Software Keep You From Getting Your Stsory Across). The article is 5 years old but a must-read before you give your next Powerpoint presentation.

Linky journals.

Doc Searls describes blogs as "... linky journals. What matters most about them is not where anybody falls on the power curve, but that every writer inhabits a place where anybody can write anything about anything, with a good chance that, if it's interesting, others will find it, remark upon it, and use it to scaffold a shared understanding of whatever-it-is, and then some."

I think it was my truss.

I was afraid to leave the theatre after watching Somthing's Gotta Give. I had this image of a row of nursing home busses parked outside, with aides helping us aboard for the ride back to "the facility." Guys, you think there's nothing worse than a chick flick? Wrong. We now have senior chick flicks (shudder). With a small cameo by Starsky. If I never see Jack Nicholson cry again, it will be too soon.

The Year in Pictures.

"MSNBC.com has done it again with its annual The Year in Pictures web interactive slide show, published on the site today. It's a mix of stunning photography, audio and music clips that's thoroughly captivating. MSNBC.com does it correctly, offering the viewer the option of auto-play to go through the entire package, or clicking through the photos at leisure." [Steve Outing at E-Media Tidbits]

Speaking of Kennett and Elvis...

"The number of religious sites devoted to the King is just staggering: Church of Elvis, The Eighth Day Transfigurist Cult, Elvis Sance, The Elvis Shrine, The First Church of Jesus Christ, Elvis, The Gospel of Elvis, Little Shrine to the King, and Oracle of the Plywood Elvis, and of course, The First Presleyterian Church of Elvis the Divine."

The review above was written by Kimberly Villalba Wright. I'm pretty sure I don't know Kimberly but according to the credits on the review, she "was born in Hollywood, Florida, and has spent most of her life in Mobile, Alabama. She earned a BA in English at the University of South Alabama in 1997. Her poetry has appeared in the Epiphany, Arrowsmith, Doggerel, Dicat Libre, El Locofoco, as well as Poetry Caf. This fall, Wright will begin working toward an MFA in creative Writing at the University of Memphis. Wright currently resides in Kennett, Missouri."

Kimberly... I'll be in town Christmas Eve. Let's hook up, pound some Buds and remember The King.

Author's message.

I've always had great respect for anyone that could write a book. Even when I'm slogging through a shitty novel, I find myself thinking, "Hey, at least this man/woman wrote a book. What have you written?" While I'm not ready to compare this blog to a book, I've grown very fond of the format. It suits me. If I had the time/money/energy... I'd love to collect all these posts and print them in a conventional book format. Just so I could hold it in my hands.

I'll be home for Christmas

After 20 years in Jefferson City, I still think of Kennett as home and I'm looking forward to spending Christmas there for the first time in many years. It's been too long since I spent some quality time with old friends. Barb will continue on to Destin and Ripley and I will spend a few days exploring who likes dogs and who doesn't.

First and only woman executed in Missouri.

Half a century ago, radios throughout the country were broadcasting the news that a woman had died in Missouri's gas chamber....the first---and so far, the only--woman ever executed in a state prison. Bonnie Brown Heady of St. Joseph and her lover Carl Hall had been convicted less than a month earlier of the kidnapping and murder of a little Kansas City boy, Bobby Greenlease. Former prison caseworker Gail Hughes remembers the Heady execution in an interview with Bob Priddy.

Why I love the Web

A nice lady named Pat found her way to my KBOA830.com website ("I have no idea why my mother-in-law had this post card. You may keep it. I have decided I cannot keep everything."). Google revealed that Aileene Hanks (Anna Aileene Hanks Williams) wrote and recorded a song called "In My Father's House Are Many Mansions." The song was recorded by The Blackwood Brothers in 1954 and later by Elvis in 1960 (You can hear Elvis's version on "His Hand in Mine; Amazing Grace CD1). In a pre-Web world, Pat would never have found my KBOA site and I wouldn't have been able to find out anything about Aileene Hanks or that Elvis had recorded her son. So, are we better off that we did? I believe so.

Bad Santa

Seeing the very bad movie, Bad Santa, reminded me of my first picture with Santa. Note the clever use of hand signals to call for help. This image says all you need to know about me and Christmas. Halley expresses this far better than I:

I want to put my finger on that feeling ...the worries that illnesses, loss of jobs, loss of physical ability can dump on us; the regret at opportunties lost to us, or the just plain sadness of friends or family lost. All that worry and worldly weight. We need a few days a year to throw it all off.

Greeting Card of Note (#3)

My brother-in-law, Lew, has been stalking Sheryl Crow ever since she became famous. How he got past the restraining order for this photograph is anybody's guess. I have no doubt that --if he were Catholic and could get the Pope to wear a Santa hat and pose-- we'd have an even better card.

How God sees the world.

I'm paraphrasing Hannibal Lector here, but it was something along the lines of, "when you do what God does you become as a God." If you think this is in poor taste, don't shake the snowglobe.

John Mays reporting.

I have a lot of photographs of my father when he was very young and quite a few from his later years, but not so many from the middle years. Among Mr. Rudy's many treasures, was a cardboard poster promoting one of KBOA's many news programs. "John Mays on KBOA at 8:00 a.m. Monday through Saturday for Midwest Farms Regional News Report." Note on the back said this was taken in 1967 so John would have been 41.

Greeting Card of Note (#2).

Most of the e-cards I've seen were pretty cheesy. But this one from my old friend Mickey is class all the way (Flash plug-in required). It was created by an English artist. I checked out her website and she has cards for, yes, "every occasion." Annual eight dollar (US) subscription.

Greeting Card of Note

Let's face it, most holiday greeting cards are pretty lame. The Hallmark cards are lame... the "look at our darling kids/dogs" cards are lame. But we've received a few this year that deserve recognition. Dan Arnall was one of my first Web buddies. A very talented young man, currently working in New York. Turn a guy like Dan loose in the Big Apple with a camera and you're gonna get a good card. [Larger version]

Gene Wilder's first movie.

Do you remember Gene Wilder being in Bonnie and Clyde? Me either. Huh.

Like a runaway train, indeed.

There was no party, there were no songs
'Cause today's just a day like the day that he started
No one is left here that knows his first name
And life barrels on like a runaway train
Where the passengers change
They don't change anything
You get off; someone else can get on

Fred Jones Pt. 2 by Ben Folds

Sounds where there should be none.

The Disruntled Housewife remains one of my favorite sites (and people I'd most like to meet) despite the spotty updates. And be sure to check out The Dick List.

That sound in the wall was not good. That was no skittering mousy or even gallopy rat sound. That was something altogether different. Suddenly the vent that mysteriously bent open a while back seemed terribly ominous. I immediately ran and got several drywall screws and screwed it shut all cockeyed and cartoonishly like a crazy person.

Words to live by.

"Try not to puke. You may have to lay in it a long time." Paul Newman to Martin Balsam in Hombre.

He is not dead, only in sleep mode.

Fred reports the Virtual Eternity thing is already being done. Sort of.

"Chapelview online funeral services offer family and friends the opportunity to celebrate the life of a loved one through viewing the funeral online. There are many reasons family and friends often cannot attend the funeral or memorial service. Others may want to view the service for a second time in a more private setting."

Virtual Eternity-Part 2.

Jeff offers some enhancements to my Virtual Eternity idea:

"The website (posted 5 minutes after time of death) could have many features. You could post a general greeting ("Hi, it's me Jeff, yes I know I'm dead, but I feel great, come on in!"). A seperate video post that sends condolences for your own death and the hardship it is causing family and friends ("Boss, I won't be in today....I'm dead!) You could have a link to a video clip where you say all the things you always wanted to say ("I killed Rover! I did it, I admit it! It was an accident!"). ... Dispense your dark secrets ("Honey, ever notice how the kids next door have my ears?") ... Speak openly to friends, read your own will, tell off-color jokes, read the kids a bedtime story, talk to grandkids you don't have yet, summarize your life in your own words, and on and on."

Ah, there you are.

"Ah, there you are, the happy couple. I've been looking for you...I've been looking for you." The Mothman Prophecies.

Low power to the people!

Terry says KCUV-AM, Denver, is plays "a lot of great music that I'd mostly never heard. It's a lot like FM radio was 30-35 years ago before the man came in and corrupted the airwaves." I haven't listened yet but thought you might like to.

Virtually eternal.

Here's what I'm thinking... I'm going to endow a trust to keep this website going after I'm not. I'll record a brief video message that will be posted 5 minutes after I'm gone. We'll have a little chat room where visitors can share their thoughts. Nobody will have to travel because there won't be anyplace to go. (There you go, I've already got the title for my eulogy.) This is such a good idea it has to have been done. If you come across such a site, email me.