Category Archives: Personal History

Michael Spooner

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A Google search led Mike Spooner (he goes by Michael these day) to this blog. I grew up with Mike, er, Michael, in Kennett, Missouri. He moved to Flint, Michigan, in 1964, did “some” college before getting drafted in 1969. Not a good year to get drafted. Following service he attended art college in Los Angeles and stayed for 28 years. From Michael’s bio:

“Michael Spooner has worked in the animation industry for twenty-five years with such notable studios as Walt Disney, Warner Brothers and DreamWorks. Michael’s professional career in art began in 1976, when he was invited to join the faculty at Art Center College of Design in Los Angeles, after graduating with distinction.  He taught for twelve years, simultaneously working as a freelance illustrator for clients that included the Public Broadcasting System, Zondervan Publishing House, Masda Motors, the National Football League, NBC Television, Paramount Pictures and Twentieth Century Fox.”

This sounds like a Brush with Near Greatness to me and I’ve asked Michael for an interview. Stay tuned.

He got lost for a couple of hours in our Flickr photostream and shares some photos from his stash. A couple of his Cub Scout pack; one of the KHS swim team; and one of the KHS junior high track team.

The swim team photo brought back fond memories of Diane West (far left). We dated a few times. She was 16 –and could drive– and I was still 15. She lived at the municipal swimming pool and exuded the intoxicating fragrance of chlorine.

It’s nice to hear from Mike and see a few long, lost photos from my youth.

Radio with pictures

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Fezcast1I gotta face it. I’m a radio guy. I have neither the face nor the concentration for TV. That’s my take-away from this morning’s live webcast from the Coffee Zone. Just too many things to keep track of. Watch the chat stream, monitor the audio (which is several seconds behind what is being said), look at the camera… whew!

As I replayed our half-hour chat I found myself thinking, this would have been much easier (and less painful for all concerned) if we’d just streamed the audio. Pictures added nothing to our little experiment.

We had 9 or 10 people watching, giving us encouragement in the chat room like parents at a grade-school production of 12 Angry Men, whispering our lines from the wings (“Turn up the mic!”).

I think I’m going to look for some sort of live event for the next webcast. Perhaps the 4th of July parade or something. Stay tuned.

Someone please tie me to the mast

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I make and receive about three phone calls a week. All to and from Barb.

"Want me to bring you some Chinese?"

"Pick up some dog food. We’re out."

"Did you try to call me just now? (No) Huh."

So I don’t really need a cell phone. Let alone an iPhone. But boy are those buggers cool? All my pals have them and love them. Can’t imagine going back to whatever they had before.

And next month we’ll probably see the new and improved (3G) iPhone and the flames of my iPhone lust will be whipped as by Santa Ana winds.

When asked why I don’t have an iPhone, I mumble some variation of what you just read. But the real answer has more to do with my MacBook Pro. I always have it with me and have big chunks of my life recordable or accessible there.

Motorcycle

Think of the MacBook Pro as a sleek, high-performance racing car. And the iPhone as a sexy, top-of-the-line motorcycle (Candy Apple Red).

It would be fun to ride the motorcycle (zoom! zoom!) but that would mean leaving the MacBook Pro in the garage. What a waste. Why not take both along? I could, but that would be like towing the motorcycle behind the sports car on a trailer. Cumbersome (and silly).

I’d love to see some data on this. Do new iPhone users tote their laptops less often? Perhaps at the molecular level, we are laptoppers or iPhoners. I think I’m the former.

Geek Wannabe Botches Webcast

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Well, that sucked. Great video… shitty audio. Yes, we DID test equipment first, but thanks for asking. Even with George (he’s brilliant) on site, we couldn’t pull it off. But it was my party so I can’t blame him. No idea what happened but we shall not rest until we figure it out and pull off a decent webcast.

Live from the Zone: May 3, 9:30 a.m.

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Georgetv
If you’re up and online this Saturday at 9:30 a.m. Central, try to catch a few minutes of our live webcast from Yanis Coffee Zone here in Jefferson City. It’s one of those "we’re doing it just because we can" events. Taisir (Owner and Proprieter) is gonna set up a table in a corner and George Kopp and I will plug in the video camera and shoot the breeze.

If you want to chat, you need to a) create an account at UStream.tv or b) IM me at smaysdotcom. We’ll probably go for 30 min or so, unless we start having a lot of fun. If you don’t see any live video it means we screwed the pooch and will have to post some lame-ass excuse. We’ll have the video player front and center here at smays.com.

On a typical day, we get about 300 visitors here. I’d like to see how many folks we can have watching at any one time.

Word Diet

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ScalesI’ve never had a weight problem so I’ve never thought much about counting calories. But I seem to recall reading or hearing that 2,000 calories a day would be about right, depending on your weight and level of activity.

While I don’t overeat, I do have a tendency to talk to much (and listen too little). I’m wondering if I could put myself on a “word diet.”

If I allot myself 2,000 words over a 16 hour day, it works out to 125 words an hour.

If you knew you had a meeting with your boss coming up, you could be silent for an hour or two and bank the words you would need.

And if you could come in under 2,000 for the day… save ’em up for some emergency (drinking with your pals or a fight with your spouse).

The problem, of course, is counting the words. You’d need some device that monitors your speech and displays the number of words, with a little beep to warn you when you have less than 25 words in an hour.

If I could do this, I think I’d sound (be perceived as?) smart as hell. Deep. Thoughtful. And who knows, if you had to ration your words, you might choose them more carefully.

When you hear someone talking about what a great president Bush has been or McCain will be… instead of blurting out “Bull shit!”… you’d save those words rather than waste them.

I can’t really count my words but I’m going to try a one day experiment and pretend that I can. I’m not going to say which day it is until after the fact. I’ll report here.

Blog posts and tweets do not count against daily allotment.

The Senath Lions Quartet

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One of the best parts of having a blog is connecting with people. You could argue it’s the only part. One of the first sites I created was a tribute to KBOA, the radio station where my father worked for many years and where I spent a dozen years. The site is packed with great photos, most of which were taken by the late Johnny “Mack” Reeder.


I captioned one of those photos  “Unknown Hillbilly Band” because I had no idea who they were. Now I do, thanks to an email from one of the men in the photo, Charley Crawford:

“The name of the group is “The Senath Lions Quartet” and this was in 1951. We started the quarter in Senath High School. The members are left to right front, Charley Crawford, Jimmy Milligan, behind Jim, right to left are Charles “Tod” Horner, James Allan and David Adams at the piano.  We were on the radio every Saturday morning at 10:30 a.m., sponsored by the Senath Merchants.”

Charlie was also a member of The Foggy Mountain Boys Hillbilly Band in 1948.

CORRECTION: I assumed –incorrectly– Charlie was referring to The Foggy Mountain Boys featuring Flatt and Scruggs. Charlie and friends were in a local band of the same name.

The Foggy Mountain Boys was an influential bluegrass band that performed and recorded during the 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s.

Concrete Art

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Clarence Lee Shirrell is one of those lucky people who seem to really love his work. He has a “lawn ornament farm” on Interstate 55 just north of Cape Girardeau, MO. I stopped by this week because I happened to notice Miss C, Clarence’s camel (“You can pet her. She won’t spit at you.”)

I can’t explain my fascination with concrete art (if I may use that word). I think it has more to do with the subjects chosen than the process. Which I assume involves pouring concrete into a mold. I think Clarence Lee said he buys the pieces already cast, so is there a big lawn ornament outfit somewhere and how do they decide what pieces will sell? And who came up with the 8 foot polar bear throwing a snowball?

I had a dozen questions for Clarence Lee but didn’t have time to ask them. For example, which is the better seller: the life-size (whatever that might be) demon or the Virgin Mary. And where would you put the demon?

How did he find Crista Meyer, the lady who paints some of his pieces. And do painted pieces sell better than unpainted? And what prompted the loin cloth on the buff young (Greek?) man. Did someone complain about his tiny concrete pecker and balls (yes, I peeked)?

Perhaps the most interesting thing I found at Concrete Castings was the cryptic message on the back of Clarence Lee’s business card: “Finished files are the result of years of scientific study combined with the experience of many years.”

I think that might be up there with “What’s the frequency, Kenneth?”