Bend The Rules Until they Squeak

You know, over the years I've come to accept the fact that the internet is a place that full to brimming with misspellings, bad grammar, and callous disregard for the English language.

My only refuge has been in "respectable" news organizations that still take the art and rules of writing seriously. So there I am today, reading an article on cnn.com a (relatively speaking) respectable news source.

Trouble is, I can't focus on the article because this is glaring at me from the right hand side of my screen.

It actually hurt my head.

Yes, I know, that's an advertiser and not CNN. Yes I know CNN just pumps out the ads, they don't proof them, yada yada yada.

That said...Funk and Wagnall wept.

Your Definition and My Definition Differ Greatly

So every once in a while, I'll read something in the daily news that grabs my attention.

Occasionally, something really makes my eyes open wide.

And then every once in a while, I'll read something that makes my eyes open wide, leap out of my head, fall down on the floor and roll around a while.

The following headline in yesterday's news had just this effect on me.

El Paso named safest US city

Uhhh.

Errr.

"...El Paso has taken the top spot for having the lowest crime rate among cities of more than 500,000 population in the annual rankings by CQ Press, a publishing firm based in Washington, D.C."

So, yeah, I'm gonna guess that those people at CQ Press haven't paid a personal visit to El Paso lately.

Look, I'm not going to bag on El Paso. It is the birth place of my best friend, and that itself recommends it highly.

It's also the birthplace of Sam Donaldson and Gene Roddenbury. So ok. Some decent talent comes from the town that Texas forgot.

Having spent a lot of time in El Paso, I could use a lot of adjectives to describe the city. I'm not sure that the word "safe" would burble up to the top ten.

I'll be fair here. I'll even take out the obvious concerns about El Paso sharing a border with arguably the most dangerous city in Mexico.

In the past year, approximately 50,000 additional troops were located to Fort Bliss, an army installation in El Paso. Those 50,000 include both returning troops and soldiers left after bases closed in other states. That 50,000 is soldiers only. Add in spouses, kids, other family and the number of new residents rises.

Then add in the high number of people who are fleeing the violence in Juarez and the numbers climb even higher.

Put it together and you'll find a city bursting at the seams. You can feel it when you visit, the town is growing so fast that infrastructure is having a hard time keeping pace.

That means busy police, fire and emt forces are being overextended during a period of economic downturn and government cost cutting. Sure, all of the new city residents will pay taxes into the economy which will help shore up infrastructure, but that kind of growth takes time.

And then let's talk about the ongoing immigration flow through a border town like El Paso. My best friend's folks live within visual distance of the border highway's Zaragoza bridge. They have bars on their windows. In their some forty years of living there, they've found desperate illegals hiding in their yard. Neighbors have been robbed. Violence occurs (but isn't often reported). I've been sitting in the back yard and heard shots fired.

El Paso is a fine town with a rich history. There is a lot to offer the residents who live in that city. Reasonable real estate costs. The Franklin Mountains are beautiful. UTEP is a fine university. Great weather. Even lots of job opportunities. It may even be a relatively safe city. But safest in the US? I have to question that assertion.

Evidently, I'm not the only one.

Some Call El Paso's Safest City Ranking 'Bogus'

Oh Fox News to you too....

I love Cee Lo Green's internet hit "F*ck You", but it just got that much better when, at the request of Steven Colbert, Cee Lo changed the lyrics of one verse from f*ck you to Fox News.

Drink it in:

Ain't that some sh*t?

Smell Like A Monster!

Grover in just a towel is super hawt! And a little furry.

A Sesame Street take on the Old Spice commercials:

San Bruno Fire - Quote of the Day

Millbrae Fire Chief Dennis Haag "...said the first engine on scene got within about a 100 yards of the fire and 'then had to stop because their windshield cracked (from the heat). As they pulled back, they saw paint bubbling on the cars in the street.'"

Source: SFGate

The Things I Could Talk About Today

Every morning after I wake up, stumble over the cat and yawn three times, I start to think about my day.

Part of that thinking involves devising a topic for my daily entry to this little ol' blog.

Over the years, the topics have varied widely from news of the world to news of crevices of my mind. And food. Lots of talk about food.

So I thought quite a bit about what to write about today for this, my 997th post in the life of Oh Fair New Mexico.

I could write more about the really awful fire in San Bruno last night. About the stutter-stall from PG&E in addressing the situation, about the homes and lives lost.

I could go on a rant about the nature of mega-corporations (*coff*BP*coff*) and their inability to respond in crisis situations.

I could even write about the fact that my own employer is a way-too-huge corporation, and sometimes that worries me.

I might even wander out of my local area and riff on that wack-a-doodle "minister" (I use sarcastic quotes on purpose) who is so filled with hate and not a small amount of insanity, that he would endanger the lives of people around the world and American military troops just to get a little publicity for his wack-a-doodle 50 follower church.

I seriously considered discussing the conversation I had this morning with my boss, who is here in the US for three weeks, but who usually lives in London. He is a very kind, gentle and mellow man. He said to me this morning, "I don’t understand this man who wants to burn the Quran. Can you explain it to me?" I couldn't. It is beyond my grasp.

I could discuss my growing dread regarding the upcoming California governor's election in my state.

Or my belief that on both sides of the political spectrum, our US Congress has run so far off the rails that I’m unsure how we will ever find our way back.

And I could talk about how, really, this must be end of days because I can't fathom this world where being so rude, being so self-centered, and being so utterly oblivious are acceptable. And yet, it is.

I even considered discussing how I'm what is considered a very sensitive person. In fact, there are books written on this subject, "The Highly Sensitive Person" and such. And because of that, how my choice to watch a blazing fire on my television all last night is really NOT good for my soul. How tweaked out I am about this whole thing.

Yes. I considered all of those topics and more.

But it's Friday, and I'm exhausted. Three weeks ago one of my dearest friends died and I still can't seem to climb up out of that grief.

And watching people lose their homes and their lives last night really did me in.

So today, I’m going to talk about a dog.

My first god dog, a heeler and Chihuahua mix, has been a good dog. She's deaf and near blind and still very sweet. But she doesn't run around and chase the ball like she used to.

My second god-dog is an adorable little beast. I'm not good with dog breeds, but I think he is a boxer. He's a big, muscular dog with a menacing bark.

But he's the sweetest little pea-pod of a dog I've ever known.

And he likes his godmom back.

There now. Let's not think about the jacked up things in the world.

Look into those eyes. Doncha just feel better basking in the glow of this little bubba of a dog?

I know it makes me feel better.

Everyone just pat a cute dog on the head and love your neighbor and hug your family.

And let's all have a nice weekend, ok?

Whoa! Fair New Mexico

Looking for news from the homeland, I hit up the news tab on Google and put in New Mexico as my search term.

And what did I get back from that big omnipotent search engine?

New Mexico man set on fire after losing drinking game

3 dead in New Mexico business shooting...

and

Police search for two after finding missing boy (in New Mexico)*

My oh my former home state. Very busy in the news today. But not, you know, in a good way.

Clearly, Bill disapproves....

* text in parentheses is mine.

Awkward Fan Girl Alert!

I have a crush.

Ok, to be fair, I have the biggest crush of all on my husband. He makes my tummy go all googley.

But I also have another, less powerful, crush.

A crush that I've been open and honest about with my spouse. He is ok with it. Or, while maybe not ok with it, tolerates my geek girl crush because that's just the sort of kind and understanding way he has with me.

You see, my crush is not about the usual sort of person you'd think.

No Robert Pattinson nor Johnny Depp. Nope.

Not even someone who you might call a celebrity. But someone who is a known figure...at least in the UK and to watchers of the BBC.

Oh, ok, I'll be out with it.

I have a crush on Mike Embley, lead presenter on BBC World News.

In my post-cable rabbit-ears-and-a-digital-box joy, I've discovered the very serious yet truly wonderful BBC World News show.

It's informative and not inflammatory. It's not televised drama, it's actual news from around the world. I've learned a LOT from this show and I chalk much of that up to Mr. Embley who presents the news in a professional and calm manner with a slight tinge of a sense of humor burbling just below the surface.

Plus, he cuts a stunning figure in a pink shirt and tie with a dark grey suit.

Truth be told, I find him rather irresistible. Brains and humor reel me in every time (just ask The Good Man who has both in spades, and might I mention, cuts a rather fabulous visage in a suit, himself).

Anyhow, yesterday, I was taking in the world news from the pleasing voice of Mr. Embley, and at the end of the show, he said, "You can follow me on Twitter at @bbcmikeembley."

Well that was that.

I looked him up and began following him straight away.

In reading his Tweet stream, I saw that he seems to be rather responsive to his followers. In many cases, he thanked people for the follow and answered their questions.

So...I took a chance.

Here's the transcript:

From me:

karenfayeth @bbcmikeembley I'm pleased to find you on Twitter. I very much enjoy your BBC World News broadcasts!!

A couple hours later came the reply:

bbcmikeembley @karenfayeth Happy to be Twting. Don't as much as I'd like but that mostly cos busy with the brdcasting. Or kids. Or dog. Or v bad guitar.

Oh swoon!

I appreciate he left out vowels to get to an economy of characters, and still managed to be very well spoken.

I am simply all a flutter to receive a reply!

When I showed it to my husband, he replied, "Oh my, you're a news fan geek. Who would have thought?"

He says this because I'm pretty steadfast in that I don't watch the news.

I really, really don't watch American broadcast news. It sets my teeth on edge.

Nope, no news...

But for one show. The one presented by my new Twitter friend...Mr. Embley.

: geek out!!! :

Just Another Marble in the Brain Jar

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about the nature of memory.

Mainly, because my own memory sucks.

What was I saying?

Oh yes.

Some of this memory loss is, I think, is a hazard of having put in a few years on this ol' planet. Over time, one tends to collect a few things in the closets like bottle tops, tattered paperback books, and stacks of memories, both good and bad.

I sometimes think of my brain as a big storage device. Lots and lots of space. Too many bits of memory get shoved in there, and it's time for an upgrade.

But maybe that's a little too Silicon Valley for my tastes.

Let's try another metaphor.

Maybe my brain is more like a big glass jar filled with marbles. Some are large, some small, some are in between. So as I go about living this crazy mixed up life, these marbles roll their way toward the jar and drop in. These new residents tend to push out the old when I've run out of space.

There is only so much room in the jar, of course, and once filled to capacity, something's gotta give.

As I was getting my hair cut last night, I spent the color "cook time" working over this particular visual metaphor. Unfortunately, I was thinking about it while also pouring over the pages of the current "People" magazine.

Without my consent, some fresh, small marbles found their way into my jar.

For example, I don't really need to know that one of the Jonas brothers broke up with his girlfriend. *plink*

Or that Jon and Kate plus 8 lady just celebrated the birthday of her sextuplets. *plink*

That some blonde chick named Heidi needs "time alone" from her overbearing husband. *plink*

And that weird Svengali-like husband of that sad, tiny, actress that recently died has now also shuffled off this mortal coil. *plink*

These are not vital memories. These don’t need to be kept in the jar. If they do manage to stay in the jar, then other, better, memories have to slip out.

Oops, there goes making Thanksgiving turkey drawings by tracing my hand onto the paper.

And there goes the name of my childhood friend who lived by the park, across from the swimming pool. We took gymnastics class together at the YMCA. What *was* her name?

Don't tell me a Jonas brother shoved my friend out of the brain jar!

I suppose the trick is to let those lightweight worthless marbles flow in for a moment and then find a way to shove them right back out.

If I get too many of the trivial marbles, there's no room left for the big meaningful marbles to find a permanent home.

Of course, some of those big marbles are so heavy, they can't possibly be washed out. My wedding day. Holding my oldest goddaughter for the first time (I cried). Cracking jokes with my pops while he was in the hospital.

The big ones stick around, no matter. The middlin' sized tend to go all floaty without my permission. They are the hardest to hold onto.

But I try. Oh I try.

Let's just hope that at the very least, I can manage to hang on to most of my important marbles.

Because I surely would hate to, you know...lose my marbles.

Photo from the KM&G-Morris public Flickr photostream.

That's not *supposed* to be funny

And yet, it is.

Was reading an article today in the online version of the San Francisco Chronicle, the SFGate with the headline of "Flushed jail items cause S.F. court flooding."

The article talks about how inmates at the San Francisco Hall of Justice managed to flush two orange jumpsuits and a bed sheet down the toilet, thus causing a major backup of raw sewage into the courtrooms.

Workers got the mess cleaned up last night only to have it flood again in the morning.

Just. Ew. Talk about a crappy day at work.

Sorry. No really, I actually am sorry. I've been on a pun kick lately. But that's not the funny part.

The funny part comes toward the end of the article.

Here, I'll quote it directly:

"...the last major problem occurred in the mid-1990s and prompted the city to purchase grinders, known as 'muffin monsters,' that are installed on sewage pipes."

Giggle. *snort* Chuckle. Guffaw.

Muffin monsters?

Ok really. Honestly?

How am I not supposed to laugh at that?

I immediately dashed into the other room to share my new phrase with The Good Man.

Thus proving once more that I am the intellectual equivalent of a twelve-year-old boy.

But come ON. Muffin monsters?

Ok, ok, they really exist and that's really what the manufacturer calls them.

They look like this:

That's all well and good, but I don’t care who you are, that's still funny!

*giggle snort*

Checking in on my coolness quotient

Ok. It's time for my annual check in. I'm fast approaching a birthday, and now that I'm over 40, it's a good time to check to see just how wide that ol' generational gap has become.

We'll start with trending topics on Twitter. I've eliminated all the hashtag items that are Twitter specific funning around like #DontBeShocked and #Musicmonday.

So here's what we have as of 10:50 Pacific Standard Time.

Hekla
This Is Apple's Next
#ashtag
Icelandic

Ok, well. Hekla. I pretty much figured it was a new R&B artist. I was wrong. It's a volcano that may or may not be ready to blow its lid. Bad me.

"This is Apple's Next" is a topic I'm all over. I read the Gawker item this morning about a supposed "found" iPhone 4. We'll see. Apple always seems to have crafty moves...

But ok, score one for me, I'm on the board.

And #ashtag and Icelandinc are all about that fun, wacky volcano called Eyjafjallajokull.

Good, good. Three of four on that. Rock on.

Let's try Yahoo! trending topics. Here we go, as of 10:55 PST.

Boston Marathon
Conan O'Brien
Christina Hendricks
Kelsey Grammer
Timothy McVeigh
Alyssa Milano
Lady Antebellum
Joakim Noah
Space Shuttle Discovery
Eyjafjallajokull

Ok, let's run through the list. Let's see....Boston Marathon. I know what that is, didn't know it was being run today. Half point for me.

Conan O'Brien. Yup, know who he is. Heard he was getting a new cable show. There are a couple news items about he and George Lopez that I'm out of the loop on. Half point for me.

Christina Hendricks. I have no idea who that is. Hoookay, she's evidently been chosen America's best looking woman. She stars on "Mad Men" a show I haven't watched as I don’t have cable. Big fat fail for me.

Kelsey Grammer. I used to watch Frasier and Cheers, so I'm up on Kelsey. I also know he's super conservative. Ok. Evidently he's starting his own right-wing network. Fair enough. Half point for me.

Timothy McVeigh. I know who he is. I wish I didn't. Evidently there is some new project using his recorded voice. I probably don't wish to hear it. I'll take a zero points on this one.

Alyssa Milano. I know who she is. She is a $%#@ing Dodger fan. I don't give a tiny rat's ass about her. That said, I did read an article about her this morning and her new show "Romantically Challenged" (I didn't say I was proud of it). Go me. Score one for the good guys.

Lady Antebellum. Know 'em. Love 'em. Love that they won a whole slew of Academy of Country Music awards last night. Whoo! Score one for me!

Joakim Noah. Er, uh. No idea. Ya got me here. Ah, basketball player. Chicago Bulls. Apparently people are pissed off at him. I don't know why. I don't watch basketball, sorry. Zero points for me.

Space Shuttle Discovery. Heard of it. Knew it was up. Didn't know it was trying to land today. Bad weather causes delays. What's new for the shuttle? Half point for me.

And finally, there's my ol' friend Eyjafjallajokull. Point goes to me!

Ok, let me add up the points...do the math here...carry the one...

Seems that I'm hip to 8 of 14 trending topics. That's a resounding 57%.

Better than half, but not by much.

I'm not completely irrelevant, but I'm definitely trending down.

This year I will try to throw a rope over this generational chasm and hold on tight.

Image via the New York Times.

Edit: in the half hour or so it took to write this, the trending topics changed. Ah well, so goes the internets.

Saturday is rantacular!

An open letter to the Bay Area's NBC-11 (KNTV) television station

Dear programming directors at my local television station, NBC-11:

I'd like to begin our conversation by thanking you for televising Friday night's San Francisco Giants baseball game on your regular ol' not-cable television station.

For people like me who have gone back to days of yore by using rabbit ears to tune in my television, it's fun to actually get a chance to watch my home team instead of only being able to listen on the radio.

The Good Man and I celebrated by eating bratwurst for dinner to get in the mood.

Very cool.

That said...

I'd like to kindly remind you that your whole reason for being in Los Angeles Friday night was to video and broadcast the game on behalf of your home viewers.

You know, the residents of the Bay Area? The SAN FRANCISCO Bay Area?

See, here's the funny thing, by and large, on Friday, your viewers in the San Francisco Bay Area were all actively watching your fine station in order to see the Giants play baseball.

You know, the SAN FRANCISCO Giants?

So when you spend large portions of the game focused solely on Matt Kemp, giddy about Matt Kemp, how wonderful is Matt Kemp, showing us Matt Kemp in the dugout, Matt Kemp in the on deck circle, Matt Kemp picking his nose, you might fail to understand why I might be rather upset?

Why would I be this upset? Because %$!&ing Matt Kemp is a sonova$%#@ing player for the Dodgers!

How do I know this? Well, you see, I was able to take a gander at the front of his jersey. You might try this trick. Focus your freaking camera on him in every idle second, and you might get a close up look at the letters on his chest. Can you see it? Can you see it says D...O...D...G....

....ARE YOU EVEN PAYING ATTENTION!?!?!?!?!?

You are broadcasting a Giants game to Giants fans! Screw the Dodgers fans in the Bay Area! Who cares about them? They are not your core demographic!

I do not want to see Manny Ramirez unless he's batting. I do not want to see Casey Blake unless he's fielding a ball. I do not give one miniscule rat's ASS about Matt Kemp unless he is batting or actively making a play.

And I give even less than a miniscule rat's ass about all of the repeated views of Matt's Kemp's adorable little girlfriend Rhianna sitting in the stands.

Yes, we're all very excited that Matt Kemp is dating Rhianna. Yes, she's very cute. Yes, I know all you big sport broadcasting boys are squeeing with glee about the chance to film Rhianna sitting there with a hoodie over her head looking all cool. I know she's like, oh my god, whoa, isn't that the coolest thing ever, double squee!

But for f*ck's sakes! Let's just let the LA station broadcast the gratuitous lingering camera shots of their own players and their own players girlfriends.

Hey, here's a cost saving idea! Why don't *you* just use LA's KCAL television feed for the next Giants-Dodgers game? That way I can, at the very least, listen to the dulcet tones of Vin Scully call the game.

At least that would be something interesting!

Now.

That said.

Saturday's game is nationally televised on Fox. You know that that means? That means Joe Buck.

I guran-frapping-tee you that your crappy Friday night television coverage will hold up well by comparison to Joe freakin' Buck's uninspired and wooden-like call. I plan on feeling nauseated. Buck's voice usually inspires that in me..

Because, NBC-11, you suck, but Joe Buck sucks worse.

And that's something to build on.

Baseballically yours,

Karen

P.S. These are my pants. They are cranky. That is all.

Ok, so go with me on this...

You ever have those moments where your monkey brain isn't working on anything in particular, and when given free rein, it jumps around from topic to topic? There it hops along and suddenly you end up in some crazy neighborhood in your mind, and you are unsure how you got there.

And at that point, it's best to just back out sloooowly.

Yeah. This happened to me the other night.

I was really, really tired. I hadn't been sleeping well and my fatigued brain wasn't making coherent thoughts. I oh so needed to get some work done at home, but couldn't get my head into the game.

Instead, I lay down in my bed figuring hell, I'll just sleep. Things will look better in the morning.

As I lay there trying to get to the REM's, I thought "man, wouldn't it be great to have one of those oxygen tents like Michael Jackson? I understand that a boost of oxygen can help you be more alert and think more clearly. That would be so rad."

So *then*, my untethered mind, thinking of oxygen tents, remembered that episode of Seinfeld where George and The Bubble Boy got into a big fight.

And so of course I laughed.

But THEN, The Bubble Boy reference made me think of that TOTAL made-for-TV movie, The Boy in the Plastic Bubble which oh yes I totally watched after school.

Which then made me think to myself, damn, who was that actor who played the boy in the bubble? Dark hair, kind of cute.

So then the other side of my brain hollered in response, "Robby Benson!"

And ta daaa! My brain was now stuck on, "So whatever happened to that guy?"

So there I am, trying to sleep but instead thinking about Robby Benson. You know, circa "Ice Castles" and "Ode To Billy Joe"?

Young, cute, all soft focused and baby faced? Quiet voice and acting chops suited for made-for-TV?

Yeah! That guy! Where the hell is he now?

And that's how I went to sleep.

Only trouble is...in the light of day, I realized. The Boy in the Plastic Bubble wasn't Robby Benson, it was John Travolta. You know, circa "Welcome Back, Kotter" and right before "Saturday Night Fever."

So I spent all that time pondering Robby when I should have been pondering John.

Damn. What a brain. Ain't worth the price of headcheese with mayo on marble rye from Molinari (a deli in North Beach, for my out of town friends).

I really gotta learn how to do Sudoku or something.....

St. Paddy's Must Reads

Two different points of view, but both are completely compelling.

First, an insightful article: "Kiss Me, I'm Mexican!"

(link via @Avelino on Twitter. Thanks!)

And from the PS of that first article: "How to make an Irish man cry (and it’s not football)!" is a beautifully written story from an Irishman visiting America.

Good stuff!

Got a little St. Patrick's Day tear in my eye.....

Getting My Geek On

Earlier in the week, a local sports radio guy posed the question to his callers:

"Star Wars Character draft, who's your no. 1?" (this from the @DamonBruce Twitter feed)

Well, I was so geeked out over the start of Spring Training, I thought he meant baseball players. Turns out he meant basketball.

No matter, I brought up the question to The Good Man over lunch, which led to a rousing conversation about our all-Star Wars character baseball team.

The Good Man and I parted ways on a lot of the position players, but that's ok. Debate is the heart of baseball.

Herewith are my starting nine (you'll note I'm sticking to Episode 4,5 and 6 characters. I'm old fashioned that way):

First Base (and batting switch): Luke Skywalker. They guy can do yoga and is bendy. I need a guy who can stretch it out to grab the ball. He can "use the force" to figure out when a ball is coming hot down the line. Gotta keep it from rattling around in that weird right field corner at AT&T Park.

Second Base: Boba Fett. Solid hands. Decent footwork. Backed up by Yoda at short. Yeah, I'm ok with this choice. (yes, I know Fett is a bad guy. Go with me on this.)

Short: Yoda. Who else do you know that could pick it from the shoelaces and do a 360 to first for a double play? Gotta be Yoda.

Third: Obi Wan. Solid hands but an old guy. Too much action at first, third is his spot. I need him to nail down the hot corner and keep runners from scoring. I think an Obi to Yoda to Luke double play combination is *hot*. Keeps runners off balance. Yeah.

Left Field: Lando Calrissian. Look, Billie Dee is the MAN. He's gotta bat clean up, can take it over the wall and look good doing it. Yup.

Center: Wedge Antilles. The guy's an ace pilot. He's lean. He can run. He's got a good eye. I'll bet he knows how to take a good route to the ball and can dominate that deep outfield at AT&T Park.

Right Field: Han Solo. Ok, the guy's kind of a bumbler. I want him where he can do the least damage. I'm betting he can bat ok (but probably slump-y like Aaron Rowand) and can probably handle right (except I worry about him at AT&T Park). He'll sometimes take a crappy route to the ball and you'll want to put your head through the television. But mostly solid. The Good Man has Han Solo in left on his lineup card. I may agree with him...don't know.

Catcher: Chewbacca. Furry Man has got the plate *sealed off*. Plus I bet he's got a cannon on him. I see NO ONE stealing second with Chewy behind the plate. The Good Man has Chewbacca at third, and there is a good case to be made for that. I'm sticking with catcher. He's a little tall for the job, but I think his knees can take it.

Pitcher: Well Darth Vader of course. Look, who else do you know in the Galaxy that has the control to throw a nasty 68 mph sinker followed by a 98 mph right up broadway and keep the batters off balance? He's as ugly as Eric Gagne and twice as mean. You need a pitcher who can play mind games with the batters and Darth is your guy.

Here's the lineup card I'm exchanging at the plate:

CF Wedge Antilles. Leadin' us off with speed on the base paths.
1B Luke Skywalker. The guy can get on base and load 'em up for the 3 and 4 hitters.
C Chewbacca takin' it deep or at least moving the runners.
LF Lando Calrissian batting cleanup. Might switch with Chewy if he's on a streak.
3B Obi Wan
2B Boba Fett
S Yoda. Not a power hitter but he gets on base.
RF Han Solo. Where he can do the least damage.
P Darth Vader

Because where I come from, the pitcher has to bat. No designated hitter in my galactic ballgame.

I invite your own thoughts on the lineup. I can be persuaded....

Didja ever have a really bad day at work?

So there you are, doing your job. A job that you are actually really darn good at.

I mean, people *know* you are good. You've been recognized for your accomplishments.

And so you've been called again to take on that big project, that big customer, that big case.

You go about your business like a professional. You rally your support team. You create strategy. You execute on that strategy.

And then, for whatever reasons, the stars weren't aligned right or someone failed to do their part or just gall durn bad luck, you make a mistake.

Not a huge mistake, but a mistake. It's the kind of mistake you've made before on other deals, and this is a particular mistake you really hate to make. But ok.

This mistake feels worse because it is made on a really high profile project. Meaning more people know you goofed up and the effects have a lot more impact.

But it's still a mistake.

You've made this mistake before and you and your group have recovered from it. It's a mistake made by all of your peers in other companies at one time or another.

Everybody doing this job has made this mistake.

It is inevitable.

Mistakes happen.

We all make them.

Sometimes they have unintended consequences.

So this is what I was thinking, yesterday, as I listed to local sports radio station KNBR with their wrap up from the Super Bowl.

If you didn't watch the game, I'll fill you in. Peyton Manning threw for an interception in the fourth quarter that was returned over 70 yards for a touchdown by the New Orleans Saints.

Most say this was the nail in the coffin for football's biggest game. That one play.

Callers to the radio station came pouring in to cry foul. To state, for the umpteenth time, that "Peyton choked!"

That he's not the great quarterback that everyone thinks he is. That he blew it. That it's all Peyton's fault!

In a game that lasts four quarters at 15 minutes apiece with who knows how many individual plays, that one play was it, huh? That was the deciding moment?

I'd personally say it was the onside kick recovered by the Saints after the half that was the game changer. The momentum shifter.

There seem to be only a few comments about Colts Hank Baskett's inexcusable case of brick hands in that moment. (Baskett, born and raised in Clovis, New Mexico. Our proud NM tradition continues on!)

But Hank isn't the superstar. Hank isn't the guy we built up to near god status so we can tear him down. His mistake is "just another day on the job." But Peyton, oh Peyton.

He's the villain.

Then when a dejected Manning walked off the field at the end of the game and didn't shake anyone's hands, now he's a poor sport.

And apparently a loser and a jerk

And then there is this bit of conspiracy theory, that Peyton helped the NFL fix the game.

Hoo boy.

I guess I come down on the same side as the author of this article.

"One lousy throw is one lousy throw. It's not a career-ender."

Those of you who have never made a mistake on the job, raise your hands?

Didn't think so.

(I figured a little Billy Joel imagery might be keeping in theme with The Who halftime show...you know, old dudes still rockin'? Plus there's that whole "people who live in glass houses" thing....)

XLIV

Oh fine. I did it. I watched the Super Bowl.

I'm not really a football fan. Baseball is where my heart is at.

But hey, there we were at football's big show, the best of the season, right? So why not watch.

I'd only intended to watch the commercials, and to be honest, it started out that way. I was working in the back room, ignoring the game. I'd listen for the break and trot out there to see what was doing with the commercials.

Damn it all if those Saints didn't pull me into the game. I started watching a few minutes here and there. But then Peyton and the Colts would dominate again, and I would wander to the back room.

Then there was halftime. That Who abomination. Ugh. I watched all of that. I mean, the Twitterverse was lit up with comments about the quite elderly rockers, so I paid attention. Time I won't ever get back in my life...

Disgusted, I gave up once more and went back to my little office and back to writing.

Much better back there.

But then there was that onside kick after halftime. That did it.

I was in.

That, and The Good Man suggested we get some Amici's delivered. Pizza does always make me docile and want to sit low on the couch. So I gave in.

Belly full of pizza and disinclined to move around much, I watched both game and commercials for the entire second half.

Then there was the interception heard 'round the world. I'll be damned. This was actually a really good Super Bowl. Well ok!

In the final analysis, I suppose it was worth my time to give XLIV my attention.

However, the game was way, way better than the commercials this year.

Check out hulu.com if you missed 'em. (Trust me, you didn't miss anything.)

My brief commercial round up...

1. Too slappy (What is this NCIS show and *why* do they hit each other so much?)

2. Weird and unflattering use of little people (And isn't Kiss even more aged than The Who?)

3. Too many tighty whities. Really, boys, if you aren't going to wear pants, have the good grace to wear boxer briefs. I'm asking nicely.

Or is the emasculation of men the new "in" thing?

Rude, I say.

And so there you have it. My Sunday in a nutshell.

Onward to Monday, a day that began with stumbling out of bed and stepping into a puddle of a cat barf. Yay.

But thankfully, no tighty whities in sight.

(um, no)

This old dog learned a new trick

At Christmas, my husband received a gift from his step-mom. He unwrapped it and exclaimed, "A Ray Harryhausen collection! Honey, look, we got a Ray Harryhausen collection! Wow, thank you!"

And I was like, "who?" My sweetest is an educated film guy, so I figured it was some obscure director of strange and dark independent films. So I said, "hey, great!" with a shrug.

Who knew I was TOTALLY missing out?

Well, in my ongoing film education (The Good Man is keeping a list. I'm working through it....) he popped "The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad" in the ol' DVD player while I was eating lunch one weekend afternoon.

Yeah baby! I figured out just who Ray Harryhausen really is. A master of creating amazing creatures in stop motion animation.

The stumbling roaring Cyclops from the late 1950's is every bit as creepy today. In fact, in a lot of ways, I actually like that better that today's over CGI'd movies.

Wow, so ok, I was intrigued.

At the end of the "Seventh Voyage of Sinbad" DVD, there were some special features. One was a bit about when Harryhausen got an Oscar (presented by his best friend, Ray Bradbury. What a pair they must make!) and at the end of Harryhausen's speech, Tom Hanks comes onto the stage to bring on the next award.

He makes the segue by saying, "I know for some people it is Gone with the Wind or Casablanca, but for me, it's all about 'Jason and the Argonauts'"

I looked at The Good Man, "Well we have to watch that next, then."

And so we did. We watched as Jason and his merry band of Argonauts fight a huge bronze statue of Talos come to life and, oh man this part was cool, a whole army of sword wielding skeletons! Skeletons! I *love* skeletons! They clacked and grimaced and fought. Aw damn, how very cool!

Then we watched "The Golden Voyage of Sinbad" and I remembered that I saw this movie, most likely on TV, with my big brother back in the day. I remembered the blue Shiva with swords in all the arms. (and let's talk about the very naturally endowed Caroline Munro. Rowr! It's so rare to see an un-surgically enhanced actress anymore.)

And finally, we had to get to the must see film because, well, it's set in San Francisco. This is all part of my SF film education.

"It Came from Beneath The Sea." Yeah baby!

What the movie lacked in dialogue and story (and it lacked A LOT), it more than made up for in great animation.

Oh, that angry squid snapping the top off the Ferry Building and wrapping tentacles around the Golden Gate! Whoa! And that far-reaching tentacle slapping down Market Street, squishing unsuspecting citizens!

Good stuff!

So okay. I'm up to speed on Harryhausen. I watched the Dirty Harry movies. We did the Hitchcocks set in SF (hello Vertigo!).

I'm excited to see what's next in my ongoing edjumacation!

Just another quiet Wednesday

Yanno, not much going on today.

New product announcements from Apple, a little company you may have heard of.

And not to be outdone, Obama got up to speak tonight too. Says he's not a quitter (he might take a page or two out of Jobs' book about being on the ropes and making a comeback).

Turns out Brad and Angelina are still a couple. (whew! That was a close one!)

You know. Business as usual.

Just another day on the funny farm.

P.S. Pitchers and catchers report in 21 days.

Seductive Power of Film

Over the weekend, The Good Man and I caught a double feature of The Asphalt Jungle and Niagara, both from the early 1950's.

This was part of the Noir City Film Festival in San Francisco.

I love old movies, so a double header of Marilyn Monroe at the old Castro Theater was my kind of Sunday afternoon.

Ooh, the danger, the intrigue, the double crosses and bad outcomes!

Yes!

But it was all the highball glasses of bourbon and endless chain-smoking on screen that left a lasting impression on me.

I mean, every character was lightin' up for the course of both movies. And oh do they look like they are enjoying every single inhale.

And then they'd pour two fingers of whiskey and slug that back and the shoulders come down and a nice relaxed state falls into place. The booze and the smokes were like a separate character in the film!

Man. Did those actors make it look good.

No, I'm serious. Chalk it up to an addictive personality or someone who just enjoys really seductive things, but I'm not kidding. I wanted to leave the theater and go buy a pack of unfiltered Pall Malls so I could inhale and calm down and be as cool as a tall drink of water like Marilyn or Sterling Hayden.

And if I was gonna take a long drag off a cool smoke, well of course I'd need some single barrel whiskey in my hand to wash it all down while I plotted my revenge, or jewel heist, or how to off the bad guy.

Oh I'm so suggestible!

This must be why those advocacy groups get their chones in a bunch about all the smoking in films, huh?

Because everyone looks great in the films, and you don't see the stained skin, the smokers hack or, eventually, the oxygen assisted breathing.

I mean, for a girl who lost many a family member to the perils of smoking, you'd think I'd be turned off by all of that.

But I wasn't. I craved. I'm not even a former smoker, but oh, how I craved to leave a ruby red lipstick stain on a cigarette butt while some charming man lit a new one for me. All while I swayed across the screen with trouble on my mind.

Ah well, never fear, I didn't engage in the smokes.

However, they were pouring small slugs of decent bourbon in the lobby between shows.

Sunday afternoon I had popcorn, Junior Mints, Red Vines and bourbon.

Whatta great day!!