Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack: The Flesh is Weak

I'm in deep doo-doo.  We KNOW DIL Erma will be here in about an hour's time and there's a certain... ummm... expectation that we will consume a few barley pops on the verandah upon her arrival, which might could extend until such time as the sun goes down.  Or not, depending on her agenda.  We had it in our mind to save ourselves for the occasion, which is to say we wouldn't begin Happy Hour until she made her presence known.  Alas, and alack, the flesh is weak.  We're getting ready to pop the top on our third adult beverage of the afternoon in spite of all our best intentions.  But you know what they say... road... intentions... pavement... and all that.  It isn't quite as bad as this, but almost:

Well, I woke up this morning, I got myself a beer
Well, I woke up this morning, and I got myself a beer
The future's uncertain, and the end is always near 

The future IS uncertain... but I think it MIGHT get a lil bit boozy-woozy this evening.  Now if we can just talk Erm into inviting her girlfriend over...

On quite another topic... WHY is it that I've been either blessed or cursed by my associations with wimmen who can, and do, drink me under the table?  Conventional wisdom has it that men are better drinkers... or at least can hold their liquor better... than wimmen.  Such is NOT the case with me.  Many were the nights when I left The Second Mrs. Pennington and The Lovely Ms. Lynch to their devices whilst I struggled upstairs to get horizontal.  Both of those ladies routinely laughed at me as I said my adieus and left their sterling company.  And they aren't the only ones, either, they were just two in a long line of such strongly-constituted wimmen.  I don't know if I'm a lightweight or if I've just been blessed/cursed in knowing wimmen of exceptional capacity.  That kinda-sorta worked to my benefit back in Former Happy Days, in that my virtue was easily compromised.  What virtue I had, anyhoo.  Like I said: a completely different topic.  My virtue will most likely remain intact this evening, but my sobriety prolly won't.

Lessons-Learned

First and foremost: I should NEVER post when I'm in a snit.  (That's polite language for being seriously and extremely pissed off.)  The back-story is this:  I turned the teevee off just as soon as the puck went in the net during the OT; I didn't even wait for the replay or the second playing of Chelsea Dagger on the night (I NEVER want to hear that fucking song again, ever), or the handshake line.  There are just some things you DON'T want to see or hear when you're trying to restrain yourself from throwing the nearest heavy object through yer teevee screen.  This bears mentioning, too: I certainly didn't want to hear the asinine commentary by the NBC SportsNetwork crew, who deserve a big "fuck you," as well.  I'm not the only one who feels that way, either. 

That said, posting in anger reveals one's true feelings and state of mind, I suppose.  We make no apologies for the intent and content of last night's post, only for the not-so-gratuitous use of the f-bomb.  Yet there are times when an f-bomb and only an f-bomb will do.  Further: I'm NOT a good loser, if you haven't figured that out by now.  That's prolly the only thing Vince Lombardi and I have in common.

Second:  Some people have learned their lessons well.  I got a call just after 2200 hrs last evening from DIL Erma, letting me know she'll be in town today and would I be available to drink a couple o' beers this afternoon?  (Not sayin' THAT'S a dumb question, but...)  It came to pass that she and SN1 spoke just after the game ended last evening wherein Buck advised her to "give him a few minutes before you call."  Smart move, that.  While we're on the subject... He was just as pissed as I was; I suppose this sort of thing runs in the family.

We'll get over this.  It's gonna bite and burn for a while but it's only the second round... it's not like we lost Game Seven of the Stanley Cup Finals.  I'm still not over THAT.

Furl the Flag

 Season over.  The Wings took it about as far as could be reasonably expected in this season of rebuilding and adversity.  But to lose... in overtime... in Game Seven in your opponent's barn is a little bit much to take.  We shall furl the flag and await next year.

Just repeat the mantra, Buck:  "It's only a game, it's only a game."  Well, no... it's not.  Hockey is life played out on a small stage and it's THAT important.

So.  Next year, Wings.  And fuck you, Chicago.  I hope you get swept in the conference final.  You deserve nothing more and nothing less.

We Are Annoyed

So, we're back from our whirlwind tour o' the microplex... The Big(ger) City^TM -- Cannon Airplane Patch -- P-Ville... and we can say "Mission Accomplished!" without having to don a flight suit in the process.  Or land on a big-ass boat.  Yes, our eyes have been examined (we passed!  with flying colors, too.), vittles and adult libations have been bought (and put away, even), the car's been gassed, and everything on today's list has been marked off.  Yet we did say we're annoyed.  Why's that?  This:

Today is the fifth consecutive day where our winds have been in excess of 30 mph, steady, with gusts up to and including 50 mph.  Yeah, "so what's new?" you say, Gentle Reader?  Point taken.  You'd think that after living here on The High Plains o' New Mexico for over ten years I'd be used to this krep by now.  It happens every Spring and oftentimes well into summer, as well.  But it's one of those things you never really get used to, no matter how "normal" it is.  It's kinda like livin' in the Northeast and havin' to shovel snow every damned winter.  That may be normal but it sure as Hell ain't no fun.

And the DUST.  Aiiieee!  My air purifier has been working overtime this week as my apartment apparently isn't that well sealed.  I've given up tryin' to stay ahead of the dust accumulating on my black furniture (Good choice, Buck... you idiot.) and will wait until the wind subsides a lil bit until the next time I dust.

(Short parenthetical: I have NO bid'niz bitching about a lil wind.  I could be in Moore and not have a house left.  There's the reality check.)

It's always sumthin'.  But at least I don't have to shovel dust.  Yet.

Another Early Day

I've been up since the approximate crack o' dawn, or as close as I want to get to that ungodly hour these days... and that would be 0800 hrs.  We set our alarm this morning to ensure we were up early enough to get fully caffeinated before setting out to The Big(ger) City^TM where we have our bi-annual eye exam at 1030 hrs this morning.  We thought about going to the range after our exam but we must balance fun and responsibility, in that we find it necessary to make both commissary and whiskey re-supply runs.  It would be one or the other but not both.  So... fun?  Duty?  Hard choices had to be made.

Duty won.  I'll go to the range later this week.  We must keep ourselves balanced, yanno?  Duty and obligation.

Broadening, LXV

Cue up Martha... summer's HERE and it's oh-so-sultry outdoors.  We won't be dancin' in the streets but we will have a couple o' these:

That would be a Sierra Nevada Summerfest, last year's edition.  We didn't notice we were drinkin' OLD beer until we posed the bottle and went WTF?  I have to say the beer keeps well and it still tastes very good... light and refreshing as all get-out.  The Bros like it, too.

T&M- Crispness is beyond belief, so refreshing. Clean but dry malty palate, hint of lemon in the spicy hop character that lends a nice bitter bite. Touch of herbal hop and grain husk middle to end, finishes quite dry.

D- Give one of these to a macro drinking friend and see what happens. I could easily go through a few on a hot summer day.

Yeah... what he said about the "hot summer day."  It's 93 wonderful degrees out on the verandah, as we speak.  Which is where I'll be just as soon as I hit "publish."

Cheers!

After Which We Slide Back Into Comfortable Obscurity

There are two times a year... and one follows hard on the heels of the other... when traffic here in our lil corner o' the blogosphere spikes.  Like this:

Don't ask about that Mothers Day post... I have NO ideer.

That's because Google loves me, placing my Memorial Day images high in their search rankings, which results in quite a few more hits than normal.  The other occasion is D-Day, when my UCR post featuring invasion photos from old Life magazines get similar placement in Google's search results.

I'm the blogosphere's equivalent of the "one-hit wonder," doncha know.  But even this small amount o' fame doesn't come close to one Instalanche.  (sigh)

Plane Pr0n

From the Usual USAF Source:

Air Frame: (Left to right) An F-86 Sabre, a P-51 Mustang, P-40 Warhawk, and P-26 Peashooter perform at the Planes of Fame Air Show in Chino, Calif., May 5, 2013. (Courtesy photo by Frank Mormillo) (Click to embiggen)

You don't see too many flyable Peashooters; I've never seen one in the air.  The others?  Yes, quite a lot... including F-86s in active service, albeit not with OUR air force.  But never a Peashooter.

Memorial Day

From USAF's official site:

WASHINGTON (AFNS) -- Secretary of the Air Force Michael Donley and Air Force Chief of Staff Gen. Mark A. Welsh III send the following Memorial Day message to Airmen of the U.S. Air Force and their families:

Memorial Day provides an opportunity to reflect upon the sacrifices of our nation's uniformed service members, particularly the more than one million Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, Marines, and Coast Guardsmen who gave their "last full measure of devotion" to preserve the freedoms we cherish. Many of us can envision a specific individual -- a relative, friend, or coworker -- who has paid the ultimate price in defense of America. Take a moment -- right now -- and think of that person and their family ... thank them for giving their all.

As we remember our fallen, we must also never forget our missing. More than 83,000 U.S. service members remain unaccounted for, more than 9,700 patriots still missing from the Korean War to today. Nearly 1,500 of those missing since the Korean War are Airmen, and we will never stop looking until all return home. Let us also honor the sacrifices of our "greatest generation" on this day of remembrance. Our ability to hear first-hand from our World War II veterans will not last forever, as the final Doolittle Tokyo Raider reunion earlier this year testifies, so take advantage of every opportunity to thank and learn from these heroes.

For the families of our fallen and missing, Memorial Day brings a particular poignancy as the nation recognizes an indescribable loss that the affected parents, spouses, siblings and children feel every day. Thankfully, our Air Force family surrounds and supports every member during times of loss, but we've had to repeat this ritual far too many times -- this year included. We must never let the sacrifices of our fallen, missing, captured or wounded be in vain.

To all Airmen, thank you for your sacrifices, past, present and future. We are honored to serve beside you in America's Air Force and in defense of this great nation.

We also remember and honor our soldiers, sailors, Marines, and Coast guardsmen who made the ultimate sacrifice.

(The highlight in the message is mine.)

You Don't See Many o' These Any Longer

I'm talkin' about sidecar rigs, like this:

Don't they look spiffy?  That's Occasional Readers Carol and Tom, who stopped in for coffee yesterday morning.  They're on a Memorial Day weekend jaunt down towards Ruidoso, Fort Stanton, and the VLA... among other places.  There was a time when one used to see sidecars all over the place but I'm thinkin' they've fallen into disfavor in this day and age.  More's the pity, as they say, because a sidecar rig is a pretty classy way to travel.

Yesterday was the first time we've met in Real Life and the occasion is one of the things I like BEST about this blogging gig... the making and meeting of new friends.

Saturday: Gnarly! And Stoked!

The title words are from the surfer sub-culture of which I was a part in my high school days in Torrance, California.  About which, this:



Cowabunga, Dude!  The biggest wave I ever attempted to ride was perhaps six feet and THAT scared the beejeebus out o' me.  You have no ideer about the sheer terror that ensues when several tons o' water breaks over yer head and tosses yer ass around like the proverbial rag doll.  Oftentimes you have no clue about which way is up and THAT is scary.  Yet another reason to marvel about how I managed to survive my youth.

This lil clip also brought to mind watching Bruce Brown films in various high school gyms in SoCal while I was in high school (c. '62 - '63), long before Endless Summer came out.  Ah, nostalgia.  What WOULD we do without it?

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack: Another Chestnut

We really could play this chestnut meme for-evah (and a day).  Here's yet another, in that "never get tired of it" category:

Thinkin' 'bout the times you drove in my car.
Thinkin' that I might have drove you too far.
And I'm thinkin' 'bout the love that you laid on my table.
I told you not to wander 'round in the dark.
I told you 'bout the swans, that they live in the park.
Then I told you 'bout our kid: now he's married to Mabel.

Well... "our kid" ain't married just yet but the rest of it is pretty much how it is, or was.  Yeah, I might have drove her too far, but Hey! ... It's water under the dam, or over the bridge, or sumthin'.  See the post immediately below, please.

One more thing.  We loves us some Cream, who defined "power trio" for all eternity.  It don't get NO better than this, Gentle Reader.

Been There, Done That

That's one of the reasons... if not THE reason... I ain't goin' back, too.  We has us some STORIES... but don't we all?

The h/t goes to Occasional Reader and Constant Correspondent Rob.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack: Chestnuts

"Chestnuts" come in two flavors in my world: those songs that NEVER grow old and the ones that make you wanna kill things and break people if you EVER hear them again.  "Proud Mary" is Number One With a Bullet in the latter category (we make a big-ass exception for Tina's version, which is better than CCR's by an order o' magnitude and never gets old in these parts), "Stairway to Heaven" is the runner-up, although anything by Bob Seger is a close second (living in Dee-troit for 11 years will do that to ya).  Ya want more?  OK... Carole King's/James Taylor's "You've Got a Friend."  The Doobie Bros' "Listen to the Music."  Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Free Bird."  The Hollies' "Long Cool Woman In a Black Dress."  And you KNOW there may be more... in fact there ARE many more but let's not dwell.  Old-time Top 40 radio and the current "Classic Rock" genre o' FM radio spoiled a lot o' tunes for me, simply because they were (and are, still) well and truly over-played.  I liked most of the songs in that "never wanna hear 'em again" category when they were first released but after the 1,342nd playing?  No.  Never again, thank ya.

As for the first category... there isn't a single Beatles (not even "I Wanna Hold Your Hand") or Stones ("Brown Sugar," anyone?) tune that's been overplayed in my book.  The same goes for Van Morrison, although "Brown-eyed Girl" seems to be the only tune by Van in constant rotation.  And this guy, of course:



THAT, Gentle Reader, is the rock 'n' roll anthem to end all anthems.  We never get tired of it and I sometimes wonder why that is.

One more thing.  There's a third category o' chestnuts, that bein' "we hated 'em then and we hate 'em now" category.  Two "artists" come immediately to mind: Jim Croce and Henry John Deutschendorf, Jr..  Everything they ever did was pure schlock and cringe-worthy on the very first hearing.  YMMV, of course.

When All Else Fails...

... post a hockey highlight reel.  This one is by my current favorite Red Wing, the incredible Number 13.



Pasha has many, many nicknames... one of which is "The Magician."  Now you know why.

H/t: The Usual Hockey Source.

Game Four tonight at The Joe... and I'd like to see a couple of those kinda goals tonight.

LGRW!

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

The legendary Duane Allman with "Little Martha:"



The Allman Bros are more famous for their southern mix o' blues and boogie but "Little Martha" has always been one o' my favorite Allman tunes.  That said, Leo Kottke does an immaculate cover of the song.



Brother Leo ranks right up there among my favorite guitarists.  I've seen him at least three times and almost always in the smallest o' venues, like small clubs or college theatres.  The man deserves much more fame than he's acquired over the years.

In other news... I'm suffering from my second migraine headache in ten days' time and that really bums me out.  I've suffered migraines since my teenage years and the only good thing I can say about them is they've lessened in severity and frequency as I've grown older.  There was a time when the pain was SO severe that it made me vomit; we thank The Deity At Hand that's not the case today.  These days the aura signalling the onset of a migraine is the worst part... the actual headache is minor.  I hate the aura, coz it renders me nearly blind for as long as it lasts... and that can be the better part o' an hour... but the aura went away about 15 minutes ago.  As for the headache itself?  I've experienced worse when hungover.  I took two Aleves when the aura appeared and things are pretty much right with the world, as we speak.  Still and even, I find it troubling my migraines have reappeared after being gone for so long.

It's always SUMTHIN'.

Aftermath

Our hearts go out to the victims of this unbelievably catastrophic disaster.  And then there's this, from the Usual USAF Source:

Tinker Spared from Tornado's Wrath
The ferocious tornado that leveled large swaths of Moore, Okla., on Monday spared Tinker Air Force Base and the Oklahoma City Air Logistics Complex, a base spokeswoman told the Daily Report on Tuesday. Although the base was up and running at mid-day on May 21, many nearby roads were closed and phone lines were down, and Tinker officials were still trying to make an accounting of the nearly 30,000 airmen and civilian employees who work on base, she said. Tinker dispatched assets—emergency vehicles and fire trucks—that, along with many volunteers from the base, were helping local authorities deal with the aftermath of the storms, which killed at least 24 people and destroyed a local school and hospital. The tornado hit about three miles south of Tinker, said base officials in a May 21 release. There are more than 18,000 dependents and 36,000 retirees in the six counties surrounding the base, which is Oklahoma's single largest employer. Tinker units operate E-3 AWACS and KC-135R tankers, and the Oklahoma City depot is the hub of repair and overhaul for the B-1B, B-52, C/KC-135, E-3, and Navy E-6 aircraft, and the F100, F101, F108, F110, F117, F118, F119 and TF-33 engines.

—John A. Tirpak

I feel personally affected by this in a small way.  I lived in Moore for three or four months when I was first assigned to Tinker back in 1983.  Yeah, that was a long time ago but having spent two and a half years in the OKC area I still have friends and acquaintances (former co-workers) there.  Everyone is OK as far as I know and we're counting our blessings. 

Oh, This Is PRICELESS!

From Grantland...



Couldn't have happened to a better buncha people (as noted elsewhere: I hate actively dislike the Leafs and their fans).  The hat-tip goes to Sean McIndoe, whose piece on the 20 types of depressed sports fans is also priceless. You should definitely read this, coz if'n you're a sports fan you'll find yourself there.  Me? I'm a Number Two. Definitely a Number Two.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

The legendary Marvin, with "I Heard It Through the Grapevine"...



OK... that's the definitive version of the song, no argument at all.  That said, the version I listened to today was by CCR, which is an 11 minute tour de force.  I also love Gladys Knight and the Pips version, as well.  Let's listen to that...



Oh, yes indeedy!  I'm hard-put to name my favorite version of this tune; it might be sacrilege but I think I like Gladys' version is better... mainly for the great horn break.  I'm SUCH a sucker for horns.

It's yet another bee-you-ti-ful day here on The High Plains o' New Mexico... 75 degrees with light (six mph) breezes out o' the west... and we're milking it for all it's worth.  So it's back outside to continue as we've begun, with a couple o' Kellerweises and a Drew Estate Kuba Maduro.  Or two.  Or three.

Quick Hit

It's nice when yer kids still think yer cool.  An excerpt from an e-mail exchange with the boys, wherein I sent 'em both pics of the new sweater:

Buck Pennington	11:51 AM (0 minutes ago)
to sampenni, afmajbuck

Why, thank you!  I'm gonna quote you on the blog... that's how cool I am.  ;-)

ilyb,
d

On Tue, May 21, 2013 at 9:48 AM, wrote:

Very cool... you excel in being cool. 

 

Seriously.  Example: I was telling CAPT Zobel, my new boss, how you sold your sport bike a couple of years ago... his response: "He was riding sport bikes in his mid-60's?  Too cool."

 

Now he knows where I get it from. ;)

 

ILYb,

Sam

-----Original Message-----
From: Buck Pennington
To: Buck Pennington
Cc: Sam Pennington
Sent: Mon, May 20, 2013 5:43 pm
Subject: New! Improved!

FYI...

Monday, May 20, 2013

I Lied...

Life is a two-way street, yanno?  I think THEY are pretty cool, too.

I Lied...

... when I said I didn't have anythang today, coz looky what came in today's mail:

My new retro Wings sweater!  And just in time for Game Three tonight... Yays!  This is number 25, in case you're wondering.  One o' my heroes, for this.  And this:



One of the prettiest hockey goals you'll EVER see.

Update, 1720 hrs:  Forgot the usual, customary, and oh-so-reasonable Let's Go Red Wings!

Still More Re-Runs and a Bonus Mini-Rant

Here it is... well past 1430 hrs... and we're still drinkin' our morning coffee and still making the blog rounds.  We've read the overnight mail and there was nuthin' in that worthy of passing on, not even in the daily missives I get from the Air Force Association or the political krep I get from elsewhere. 

Digression... 

The "political krep" seems to be MUCH more crappy than usual, of late.  I'm finding it more and more difficult to manufacture a suitable level of outrage, or at least outrage on a scale that some people and organizations feel I SHOULD.  It's boiled down to this for me: Yes, I know Obama is an asshat.  Yes, I know he shoots himself in the foot, often.  Yes, I know our rights are being trampled upon (visualize an eye-roll here) but I've yet to see a single black helicopter.  About the only thing I can get exercised about at the moment is the pending internet sales tax law and I've written my congress critter (in the House; it's too late for the Senate and my senators are both Donkeys, anyhoo) about that.  It's gotten so bad with me that I've quit reading all exclusively political blogs completely and only skim the political posts my Daily Reads put up.  I'm burnt out.

/Digression.

So there's that and that's about all I've got, aside from a re-run, which is what you'll get, Gentle Reader.  Here t'is:

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Work

No. No, it ISN'T. Not EVEN. We digress before we've even begun.

(I was tagged) with an interesting sort of meme, to wit:

 

It’s simple. Just list all the jobs you’ve had in your life, in order. Don’t bust your brain: no durations or details are necessary, and feel free to omit anything that you feel might tend to incriminate you. I’m just curious. And when you’re done, tag another five bloggers you’re curious about.

 

Famous last words: “Don’t bust your brain.” Heh. This meme is not designed for the semi-elderly or folks that are otherwise memory-challenged... and God Forbid if you should be both. Obviously. But… here goes, as best as I can remember. Unpaid positions are so indicated, in parens.

 

Dish-washer, vacuum cleaner operator, maker of beds, babysitter… all for a pittance of an “allowance.”

Mower of lawns, leaf-raker, snow-shoveler, car washer… same salary as above.

Paper boy.

Apricot picker.

Landscaper’s apprentice… dispenser of grass seed, wheelbarrow operator, dump truck driver.

College student.

Cook @ Mickey Dee’s.

Basic trainee.

Trade school student. (in a manner of speaking)

Kitchen help… potato peeler, dishwasher, floor mopper, aka “KP.”

Latrine cleaner.

Buffer operator, First Class.

Close-order drill specialist. (the result of many punitive hours on the drill pad)

Radar repairman.

Gofer.

Antenna climber.

Grocery bagger (part time).

Bean field weed picker and other assorted dirty agricultural jobs Americans won’t do (part time).

Tire buster (part time and the only job I’ve ever been fired from).

Radar technician.

Surveillance systems technician. (aka electronic spook enabler on the periphery of the Evil Empire)

Motorcycle racer wannabee. (amateur, but I worked damned hard at it) (Photos!)

Radar technician, part deux.

Maintenance control center dispatcher.

Distributor/purveyor of herbal remedies. (part time)

Suicide prevention center counselor. (part time, volunteer; about which: an amusing tale)

Surveillance systems technician, part deux.

Deejay. (volunteer, part time)

Radar technician, yet again. (These positions were many and varied, thus multiple entries)

Engineering/installations team chief (radar).

Bar back.

Brothel inspector, various locations in SE Asia.

Maintenance quality control inspector. (not at ALL related to the entry immediately above. Wait. Check that. Related, but not in the way you might think. You’d be amazed at the wide variety of fuck-ups I encountered.)

Plans and programs manager. (NCOIC).

Classified materials custodian. (Have you ever held your breath for three years straight, Gentle Reader?)

Public affairs NCO, news release writer, photographer.

Editor, “The Visiting Fireman’s Guide to the Best Pubs Around RAF Uxbridge and Vicinity.”

Researcher for the above publication.

Motorcycle safety instructor. (part time, volunteer)

Proxy parent. (volunteer)

Staff weenie.

College student, part deux. (on the VA dole)

Small scale farmer… or maybe large scale gardener. (kinda like Chance)

Telecommunications specialist.

Technical writer.

Proposal writer.

Proposal team leader/manager.

Telecommunications engineer.

Software development/service management/service reporting manager.

Lamaze coach. (At age 52… Aiiieeee!)

Vagabond, two-lane blacktop edition. Coast to coast and border to border.

Staff weenie, operations policies and procedures.

IT Operations Manager; IT Operations Director.

Retiree. (BEST job I’ve EVER had)

Blogger (we use the term quite loosely).

And there ya have it… a checkered career, if there ever was one.

Feel like listing YOUR work experience, Gentle Reader?  I'm all ears...

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

Yet another two-fer... beginning with The Meters, with a funky take on Rod Argent's little-known classic...



That's a pretty good, if radically different, take on the original.  Here's the original version:

You've taken my life so take my soul

That's what you said but who are we to know

I want to be with you as long as you want me to

So don't move away

Ain't that what you said?

Ain't that what you said?

Ain't that what you said?

Liar liar liar

I much prefer Argent's version of the two... but they're both great.  And the lyrics?  Let's just say they resonate.

The Sunday Rerun

I had occasion today to mention "Annie Hall," which is my all-time favorite movie (and I DO thank you, IT).  I posted on this subject a couple o' few years ago, to wit:

Friday, January 11, 2008

"We Need the Eggs"

Lin and I had this brief exchange about relationships in the comments of the “Advice for Women” post below. (Ed: Digression... that post is one of my better efforts.  Just sayin'.)   I mentioned that “school’s out” for me where relationships are concerned, she countered with (I’m paraphrasing) “Don’t give up; your new Best Friend is out there.” The exchange got me to thinking about relationships in general and my favorite quote about relationships, specifically. The quote is from Woody Allen’s best-ever movie “Annie Hall.” It’s the bit where Allen's character encounters a couple on the street, walks up to them and says something to the effect of “You look like a happy couple. What’s your secret?” The woman responds with “I’m basically shallow and don’t have a lot to say.” The man validates her statement with a “me, too” sort of response… taking the point about mutual compatibility to its (hilarious) extreme. That one quick scene has stuck with me all these intervening years. As have many, many other scenes from that movie, but that’s another story.

So…I went looking for that particular quote. And I found it, Gentle Reader, but the scene from the movie was overdubbed in Russian and the English is simply overwhelmed…you can’t hear it at all. Too bad, that. (But if you really wanna see the clip, it’s here.) These excerpts are from the same movie…and they’re not all that bad, but they’re certainly NOT what I was going after. The first clip is the ending of the movie, the second is the opening.

Ah yes, we need the eggs… except for those of us who are allergic to the damned things. Unlike eggs (in real life there are non-egg eggs), there ain't no suitable substitutes when it comes to relationships: it's the “real thing” or nothing. Aside from kidding yourself, you're only setting yourself up for massive failure if or when you settle for a “substitute” relationship. I don't have empirical proof of this “fact” from personal experience, this is simply my thought on the subject.

Now…the movie's intro:

Allen’s monolog kinda sorta reflects my current attitude, with the emphasis on “sorta.” Heavy emphasis on “sorta.”

“Annie Hall” is my favorite movie of all time, and it’s the only movie I’ve ever seen more than twice. The Second Mrs. Pennington and I, coincidentally, saw “Annie Hall” as a first run movie, we saw it again at a Notre Dame film night during her senior year, and watched it again and again as the years passed by. Aside from being brilliantly funny, it might be the most pertinent and poignant movie about relationships I’ve ever seen. Keep in mind, though, I went off movies about 15 years ago, so I’m not one to offer up criticism in this space. Not hardly — not at all, actually.

But…FWIW… Woody Allen never produced another movie equal to this one, IMHO. And I’ve seen most of his work.

Well, OK.  That post was more about relationships than it was about the movie.  But if ya want funny, go here and read some... or all... of the quotes.  If you don't laugh at most of them your sense o' humor is seriously impaired.

Saturday...

... got off to a rocky start.  I overslept, to begin with, and missed all but four minutes of the first period of the Wings' game.  So... I stumble in to the living room, switch on the teevee and go immediately to the kitchen to start the coffee, only to find my coffee pot has gone belly-up.  That's not a way to begin yer day, lemmee tell ya.  So we boiled water on the stove and carefully poured it through the grounds we'd already loaded in the pot and... Walla!  Coffee.  Finally.

So it'll be off to Wally-World later today to buy a new pot.  This one lasted 1,468 days... quite a bit longer than the 875 days of its predecessor.  (I know the exact number of days because (a) I blog stuff like this and (b) I go here and punch in the appropriate dates.

So.  Second intermission in the game and the Beloved Wings are up, 2-1.  They're outskating, outshooting, and outscoring the Hated 'Hawks at this point, so things look good.  But it's the playoffs and anything can happen.

Oh, yeah.  I owe ya a video, don't I?  Well, I haven't checked out all the stuff at The Usual Source but I DID watch this:






Way-damned-cool! 

And now it's back to the important stuff:  LGRW!

Update, 1345:  

Heh.  Lose they did, 4-1... with no empty-netter, either. 

Today's Happy Hour Liquid Lunch Soundtrack

We called Happy Hour quite a bit earlier than usual today, mainly coz we got up quite a bit earlier than we usually do.  So there's that.

And there's this... I was listenin' to XM's Deep Tracks channel Tuesday evening while on my way over to The Big(ger) City^TM and the deejay did a "mary-jew-wanna" set (his words) which included The Fraternity of Man's "Don't Bogart That Joint" (Easy Rider, anyone?), Arlo Guthrie's "Comin' In to Los Angeles," The New Riders of the Purple Sage's "Panama Red," and this tune, also from the New Riders...

And now he's rollin' down the mountain
Going fast, fast, fast
And if he blows it this one's gonna be his last
Run to Acapulco to turn the golden keys
Henry keep the brakes on for this corner if you please

So, there I was... on my way to a meeting of The Retired Colonels Club (I say that coz there was only one other enlisted guy at the AFA meeting, besides me) and singin' along at the top o' my lungs to ALL these tunes.  I hate to think what knowin' all the lyrics to these tunes... even after all these years... sez about me.  Prolly nuthin' GOOD.

Ah, well.  It what it is.  And now it's back outside into the 91 degree heat... on its way to 95, supposedly... to finish as we've begun.  I'm pretty sure a nap will follow.

Random Notes

My comfy couch

Up at oh-dark-thirty this morning... quite literally: 0400 hrs... after spending the night on our comfy couch.  I fell asleep during the Kings - Sharks game (after watching the Broons win a second consecutive game in overtime), waking just in time to see yet another improbable finish, wherein the Kings scored TWO power play goals in the last two minutes of the game to win.  I kinda shook my head and went "wow!" after which I switched from sleeping in the vertical to sleeping horizontal... which is a LOT easier on the back and certain other body parts.  I should also mention that my couch really IS comfortable, in that I can stretch out to my full length and the cushions are quite firm.

I like my couch and I sleep on it nearly as much as I do in my spiffy bed.  There was a time, back in Former Happy Days, when I'd fall asleep on the couch after a hard day only to be woken up by The Second Mrs. Pennington who informed me it was time to go to bed... after I'd been asleep for an hour or two.  So I'd dutifully get up off the couch and accompany her upstairs where I'd invariably stare at the ceiling for the better part of an hour trying to get back to sleep.  There WAS a cure for getting back to sleep in short order but I'd stare at the ceiling more often than not... most times.

These days?  We sleep on the couch when we damned well please.

―:☺:―

The weather has reached the point where it's warm enough to sit outside in a tee shirt and watch the sun go down without having to bundle up.  There's no more hard-edged chill in the air as the sun sets and that's a great good thing.  The bad news is my whiskey and cigar consumption tends to increase exponentially as the weather gets warmer.  I normally only have one cigar a day during winter; yesterday I burned three, including two as we watched the sun go down, all while sipping three fingers o' Scotch... repeated a couple o' few times.  The Scotch is prolly why it was so very easy to fall asleep on the couch, now that I think about it.

―:☺:―

I'll prolly have to make my blog rounds twice today, what with having completed the first round already and noticing most of my reads haven't posted anythang new yet today.  Which is a First-World problem now, innit?  That said, having a do-over on the blog reading beats the HELL outta going to work.