Thursday, May 20, 2010

Short Take

Just in from a run out to Cannon Airplane Patch where we did the normal beer and comestibles re-supply and dropped by the pharmacy to get our new! improved! drugs.  Mission Accomplished and all that.

So... I see this car in the commissary parking lot with a license plate that reads "DVEST8R."  What ya wanna bet the driver flies one of these (or flies IN one)?


I'd think that'd be a good bet.  (Added 05/21, for clarity's sake:  Cannon is home to a gaggle of these Bad Boys.  They orbit over Portales nearly every night when they're not deployed.  Makes me way-glad they're on OUR side.)

While we're on about the commissary... just how efficient a shopper am I?  Well, I can park The Green Hornet, drop a lit cigar in her ashtray, go in to the store, buy a week or two worth of groceries, go through the check out line (no waiting), come out to the parking lot, load the groceries, get back in the car, retrieve the cigar from the ashtray... and it's still lit.  That, Gentle Reader, is efficiency.

And now it's time for Happy Hour.  Prosit!

Heh

From My Buddy Ed In Florida...
Widdle Wabbit

 A precious little girl walks into a PetSmart shop and asks, in the sweetest little lisp between two missing teeth, "Excuthe me, mithter, do you keep widdle wabbits?"


As the shopkeeper's heart melts, he gets down on his knees so that he's on her level and asks, "Do you want a widdle white wabbit, or a thoft and fuwwy, bwack wabbit, or maybe one like that cute widdle bwown wabbit over there?"  


She, in turn, blushes, rocks on her heels, puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says, in a tiny quiet voice...


"I don't think my python weally gives a thit."
Heh.

Want

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

Return with us to those thrilling days o' yesteryear... we're talkin' 1965 here... when Otis, when he wasn't otherwise occupied by parking his ass on a San Francisco dock, was busy inspiring Aretha to take one of his songs for HER signature tune. And we're talkin' about this:



The horns.  Omigawd... the freakin' HORNS!

We digress.  Now I gots no argument with The Queen of Soul, given that she is one of Dee-troit's favorite native daughters, after all.  Her riff on "R-E-S-P-E-C-T/ find out what it means to me/ R-E-S-P-EEE-C-T, take out the..." is one of the finest riffs, ever.  That said, Otis' version of "Respect" is the best.  Always was, always will be.  Period.  Full stop.  There are very few tunes in my personal Greatest Hits pantheon that have a longer shelf life than this one.  I still get goose bumps on my arms when I hear this song.  May it NEVER stop... coz I'll be dead when that happens.

―:☺:―

Today has been one of those days.  Which is to say I went to bed about an hour before sunrise and got up at the crack o' noon, or thereabouts.  That brand o' weirdness knocks the whole damned day into a cocked hat.  Plans get scrubbed, things that must be done get deferred to another day, and we're totally out o' synch with the rest of the world.  Not that we care about that.  That said (yet again), it was ALL I could do to make the blog rounds before the sun passed over the yardarm, which is shorthand for Happy Hour.  But... it's all good.  It's warm.  We're alive.  The fridge is stocked with our favorite beer.  The humidor is fat.  Life is good.

But we DO need to get laid.  Oops.  Did I really say that?

Pissing and Moaning. Again.

I've mentioned the fact that I no longer receive medical care from the Air Force now that I'm a geezer and have been forced into Medicare.  What this means is I've transitioned from military health care out at Cannon Airplane Patch... which was excellent in each and every regard... into the care of our local medicos, specifically those practicing at Roosevelt General Hospital.  I don't have any major issues with the quality or cost of my health care... so far.  I like my new doctor.  I like the facilities at Roosevelt General's clinic.  The RGH clinic staff are attentive, friendly, and competent.  I'm seen on-time at the appointed time.  The clinic submits claims directly to Medicare and Tricare and payment has been both timely and unquestioned.  So far, so good, right?

Well, I DO have a nit to pick.

I arrived for my appointment at RGH yesterday a half hour early as I had a billing question I needed resolved.  Which it was.  Quickly.  Efficiently.  And to my complete satisfaction, which was as I hoped it would be.  There was a downside, though.  I had to cool my heels in the waiting room for the better part of a half hour because I was, well, early.  I didn't come prepared for an extended wait, which is to say I didn't bring a book or a magazine or something else to amuse me.  Bad move on my part, as the only reading material available was a stack of old Women's Day magazines and oodles of that slick printed medical propaganda disguised as magazines.  And speaking of propaganda... there was a large flat screen teevee tuned to AccentHealth, a CNN-produced network purporting to be "America's Largest Health Education Network" that dominated the waiting room, set at a volume that made it impossible to ignore.

It sucked.

The programming was 75% commercials for pharmaceuticals... soothingly suggesting you to "Ask your doctor about Valtrex - Avodart - Cialis - and various other examples of modern pharmaceutical gris-gris"... interspersed with three-minute segments about how to deal with arthritis, colitis, avoid sunburn, eat more leafy greens, and other such bullshit.  The ratio was about one infomercial segment to three blatant advertisements, all of which looked kinda like this:



The teevee wasn't exactly blaring but it was set at such a level as to demand your attention, the upshot being I never realized 25 minutes could last so damned long.  I was finally called in to see the doctor after those interminable 25 minutes passed but I was left (a) thankful that I'm generally healthy and not suffering from any one of a zillion teevee-induced psychosomatic diseases and (b) wondering how many doctors are bombarded with demands for various and sundry drugs flogged right there in their waiting room.  Don't we get enough of this shit at home?

(sigh)  There are flat-panel teevees in all the waiting rooms in the clinic out at Cannon.  But they are ALL tuned to Fox News or CNN Headline News.  Hell, the Tricare Services waiting room even gives its patrons a remote so they can watch what they want to watch.  Imagine that.  Yet another reason I miss military health care. 

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

Another gee-tar fave from way back... John Fahey.



I got into Mr. Fahey's music around the same time I discovered Leo Kottke, as their styles are similar.  I don't see how one could like one of these gentlemen and NOT like the other.  Once again... we're hearing Fahey as a function of listening to Pandora's Ry Cooder station.  If'n ya haven't got the hint by now... try Pandora.  It's free, unless you wanna pop for the oh-so-cheap pay version (i.e., something like 36 Yankee dollars per year and which I highly recommend), which has benefits... like uninterrupted music, commercial-free, streamed to your PC.  It's great good stuff.

―:☺:―

In other news...of the strictly personal sort... I had a follow-up visit with my doctor today.  I don't often go on about personal problems issues as it's just not my style.  That said, we've been coping with a self-inflicted wound... Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (COPD)... for the better part of three years now.  We were recently put on medication for this condition and said medication (Advair) made us chronically hoarse, with the end result being I sound like a croaking old man.  Which I may be, come to think on it, but never was until Advair arrived on the scene.  

The good news is we're off Advair and on to Spiriva, or will be once the scrip is filled.  That will wait until the morrow, when we'll journey out to Cannon Airplane Patch to get the scrip filled.  Lord Willin' and the taxpayers don't rise, of course (about which: thank you all for supporting me in my old age and infirmity).  We're also getting set up for some sort of oxygen deprivation test, which will be run in the near future.

This is just for the record, mind you, as this blog serves a primary purpose of being my personal journal, of sorts.  Self-inflicted wounds are NOT sufficient reason to issue a cri de'coeur for sympathy.  Not in any way, shape, or form.  This simply is what it is... and something one lives with in Old Age.  Gettin' old ain't for sissies, as it's said.  Or, as a wise man once said... "If'n I'd a known I'd live this long I'd a taken better care of myself."

Yeah.  Right.  Sure.

Weirdness

Here's a strange one: My Ex-Wife's Wedding Dress.  From the "About" section (punctuation left "as found"):
My wife of 12 years recently packed up her belongings and moved out of our home. After her car was loaded I couldn't help but notice that a single item remained in her section of our closet, her wedding dress.
"You forgot something" I told her.
She replied "And what's that?".
"Your wedding dress", I said.
"Yeah, I am not taking that" was her response.
"What do you expect me to do with it?" I asked.
And to that she replied, "Whatever the $%^@# you want".
And this is what I did.....
The author is up to 50 uses as of last night, including pasta strainer, oil change drop-cloth, and so on.  I applaud the concept and wish I had thought of it. But then again, there was no such thing as a "blog" when the maid quit.  She did, however, leave her dress behind.  I sold it in my Going Out of Bid'niz sale for ten dollars more than she paid for it.  (The Second Mrs. Pennington, being a very frugal sort, bought the dress in a second-hand store.  Srsly.)  Here's the dress, laid out across the back of a couch (which went in that very same sale).


Someone got a good deal for only $30.00 US.  Worn once, and all that.  Well, twice maybe.  It was second hand.  True Story, swear to The Deity At Hand.

H/T:  The Awl.

Monday, May 17, 2010

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack...

... comes from listenin' to Pandora's Ry Cooder channel and could be described as another episode in the Great 2010 Guitar Whatever Ya Wanna Call It... Mr. Roy Rogers:



I think I discovered Roy by listening to WDET in Dee-troit.  I'd bet money on it, actually.  Speakin' of WDET...


We're down to our emergency tee shirt supply, given the state of our laundry bag and available clean clothes.  This example happens to be well over 20 years old, what with me having acquired it back around 1987 or so.  I wear it rarely these days as it is thin beyond belief.  It's also something of a personal treasure as well, being a memento from Former Happy Days.  This tee was part of the swag one gets for supporting public radio, and I was a BIG supporter back in the day.  Read as: when public radio was worth supporting.  I was saddened to find DET has sunk in the metro Dee-troit radio ratings, but not all that surprised.  DET was a powerhouse back in the '80s and a veritable fount of new music... and Ann Delisi (a deejay and then programs director) was to die for.  But that's another story altogether.

Linkage

A couple o' few days ago I posted Richard Thompson's "1952 Vincent Black Lightning"... another heavy artillery barrage in the Great Guitar War of 2010.  Which is now over, due to the fact that the pacifists took to the streets... singin' songs and carryin' signs, mostly saying hooray for our side (apologies, Mr. Stills)... demanding disarmament, peace, flowers, and love.  But no dope, as near as I can figger.  Pacifists just aren't what they USED to be, back in the day.  So.  The war is over.  And we ALL won, as I noted elsewhere.  But now it's swords into plowshares, and all that.

So, it's back to the topic at hand... which is songs about mo'sickles... now that our longish and somewhat petulant digression is finished.  Former belligerent turned showman Dan posted a rejoinder to my Black Lightning post, which is a veritable tour de force with much tasty linkage and two embedded alternate takes on Mr. Thompson's masterpiece.  I literally spent well over half an hour, mebbe more, on this one post and I highly recommend it.  There be tons of Good Stuff there...

Now... for what it's worth (heh)... old hippies in Former Happy Days.



There WERE lotsa drugs there.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Watching the Sharks - Hawks

The 'puter is restored and we're running a backup as we speak, while watching the first game of the Western Conference Finals.  The restoration took a lil longer than we thought it would, about six hours, all told.  This included installing six or eight applications from disk, two apps from the 'net, and sixty-freakin'-five (65!) Windows updates... along with multiple re-starts.  The Gateway factory OS image isn't very damned current, to say the VERY least.  Is there any doubt in your mind as to why I delayed this task as long as I did?

Here's my new desktop...


It's an old photo of my favorite ride (an RD350LC) taken on a sad, sad day... the day I sold her (which would be sometime in June 1983). 

And now it's hockey.  We have about five minutes left in the third period and the game is tied, 1-1.  I predicted the Sharks in six but I'm beginning to wonder.  I wasn't sold on Antti Niemi's qualities as a goaltender up until today, and that's why I chose the Sharks in this series.  But Niemi has made some spectacular saves today and is keeping the Hawks in the game.  Good stuff, this.  Well, dang!  Chicago scores just as I was typing this and they're up, 2-1.  I fear for my prognostication.

Update 1547 hrs: Chicago wins, 2-1.  Oh well... it's one of seven.

The Sunday Re-Run

I've decided today is the day we restore the computer, seeing as how it'll be a week tomorrow that the damned thing has been sitting on the floor tweaking my guilt strings.  In my defense... there were at least three days out of the last six where we either had massive thunder-boomers in the area or the threat of same.  Only fools would undertake a labor and time intensive computer task under the threat of power outages.

So... that said, we are up at oh-dark-thirty this morning, the coffee has been made and we're preparing ourselves for the tasks at hand.  In the meantime, here's a lil sumthin from a couple o' years ago.

Attitude

The New York Times had an interesting article yesterday: “A Guide to the French. Handle With Care.” It doesn’t look like a lot has changed since the last time I was in La Belle France. But here’s the bit that caught my fancy, Gentle Reader: 

7: Feeling Sexy Is a State of Mind, or: Buy Good Lingerie
In her close-fitting sweaters and pants and tailored leather jackets, Eliane Victor is both stylish and alluring. The retired author and journalist is in her late 80s.

For French women, being sexy has nothing to do with age and everything to do with attitude. Arielle Dombasle, the actress and cabaret singer married to the philosopher Bernard-Henri Lévy, dared to expose her breasts on the cover of Paris Match and took off her clothes in a song-and-dance revue at Crazy Horse in Paris. Some people feel she tries too hard. But give the lady some credit. She’s turning 50 and has a Barbie-doll body.

A 600-page sociological study of sexuality in France released this month concluded that 9 out of 10 women over 50 are sexually active. The sexiest French women seem naturally skilled in the art of moving, smiling and flirting.

Chic French women prefer to peel and polish rather than paint their faces. Too much makeup, they say, makes a woman seem older, or worse, “vulgaire.” “The most beautiful makeup for a woman is passion,” Yves Saint Laurent once said. “But cosmetics are easier to buy.”

French women spend close to 20 percent of their clothing budgets on lingerie. But you also have to know how to wear it. When the Galeries Lafayette department store inaugurated its 28,000-square-foot lingerie shop in 2003, it offered free half-hour lessons by professional striptease artists.

The illustration above is the Paris Match cover of Ms. Arielle Dombasle that's referenced in the excerpt. Ms. Dombasle might be trying too hard… or not. Still and even: “Good on Her,” sez I. At least she’s out there (pun intended), flaunting those perky, silicone-free mammary glands. It’s hard, if not impossible, for me to imagine any 50-year old American woman posing topless on the cover of a mass-circulation American weekly… even the National Enquirer. At any rate, there’s not one single thing in the excerpt above I disagree with, and a lot I admire…especially Monsieur Saint Laurent’s take on cosmetics.

French women have always been admired and, yes… lusted after… throughout my lifetime. You may count me among their admirers, but more for attitude and style than anything else. C'est si bon!

As for the rest of the article? Interesting… on the whole… but not as much as the bits I quoted. YMMV, Gentle Reader.
―:☺:―

In The Guardian (UK): “Europe’s Top Ten Motorbiking Roads:” The lede:

What makes a good biking road? Well, there's a saying among motorcyclists that driving a car is like watching a movie, whereas riding a motorbike is like being in one. And I guess it can all distil down to that: open to the elements and without a metal box around you, the feeling of vulnerability and danger merely serving to heighten the senses, you really do feel part of the world around you. A great biking road should have twists and turns so you can get your knee down and your heart rate up, certainly. If it's got a smooth surface and has good visibility, all the better. Add in an epic landscape and a real sense of adventure and you've got biking nirvana.
I’ve not ridden any of the ten roads listed, but Dayum! … I sure want to. Actually, I’m only writing about this article because of the eerie similarity of the above paragraph to something I wrote nearly eight years ago. Great minds, and all that…
―:☺:―


Today’s Pics: My... how quickly our moods change, no? Was it something I said? I have no idea what the lady was pissed about, but one can plainly see she most certainly was upset with me. The two pics were taken no more than five minutes apart, IIRC. As ever, click for larger.

The Second Mrs. Pennington and I at a squadron picnic sometime during the 1980 – 1983 timeframe, 2119th Communications Squadron, RAF Uxbridge, UK.
Now on to the tasks at hand.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Today's Mandatory Hockey Post

Unbelievable.  Un-frickin'-believable.  This:
It wasn’t just that the Bruins lost. It was the manner, texture and indescribably painful way they went crashing into hockey infamy.

Just as they led the series by three games to none, the B’s built a 3-0 lead in Game 7 with a roaring TD Garden behind them and various local sporting B’s — Bucyk, Bourque, Belichick — part of the mob. The Flyers took two dumb early penalties, the hometown heroes scored on both and it seemed like Philly’s attempt to become the third team in history (1942 Leafs, 1975 Islanders) to fight back from the worst deficit possible in a best-of-seven series had finally hit a wall.

[...]

Then, remarkably, one of the worst pieces of Bruin playoff history repeated itself. Just as Don Cherry’s ’79 squad blew a chance to eliminate the Montreal Canadiens in the NHL semifinals by taking a late game too-many-men penalty, so too did Claude Julien’s club get caught in exactly the same way.

Lucic was going off, Vladimir Sobotka was coming on and the officiating team led by referees Stephen Walkom and Kelly Sutherland ruled it was done too sloppily for their liking and called a penalty with 9:50 to play in the third.
The rest, as they say, is history.  Simon Gagne scored on the only shot in the resulting Flyers powerplay and Philadelphia skated off to join the '42 Leafs and the '75 Islanders in the hockey record book.  You could have knocked me over with a feather.  I suppose the same can be said for the hockey press, as well, because the entire hockey world is writing about nothing else today.  It was a stunning collapse on the part of the Bruins and an equally stunning, improbable, and heroic comeback by Philadelphia.  History was made yet again in these 2010 playoffs.

So, the conference finals begin tomorrow.  I'm not gonna go on at length right now, but here's how I think it'll shake out:  Sharks in six; Habs in seven (or less).

Thievery. Again. Still.

So, I thought long and hard about posting this... for all of about three minutes... because someone is sure to get the wrong ideer about why I did so.  Or perhaps the right one.  It's funny, nonetheless.  Explicit, too.  <=== a half-assed warning.



So Phlegmmy has this theory about scorched-earth types, which is how she describes the woman in this vid.  On the one hand she's prolly correct in her thinking; OTOH she discounts the obvious pleasures derived from thinking up amusing and/or appropriate retribution scenarios.  And this vid has some great ones.  Not that I would know anything about that -- I've just heard stories, yanno?

Possibly related:  Is this the girl in the Kindle commercial?  She kinda-sorta sounds the same... I can't tell.

Friday, May 14, 2010

Cheesy Videos XIX - Drainage...

...or lack o' same.  A quick trip out around P-Ville to illustrate our marvelous drainage system, otherwise known as 18th Street.


And now it's down Highway (US) 70 and into Beautiful La Hacienda Trailer Park.  



What a nice day!

Technical note:  I publish these things once the video is uploaded and before the vids are available in HD, i.e. fully processed by The Tube of You.  HD usually comes on line about an hour or so after the post date/time.  These things ARE better in HD, believe it or don't.  For what that's worth.

One of the Better Hockey Bits I've Read Lately

In the form of a piece by Eric Adelson, writing for Yahoo! Sports (Old-school Habs deserve to be America’s team).  Excerpts:
The hockey gods are laughing now. They snicker in the still of Pittsburgh, chuckle in the dark corridors of NHL offices in New York and bellow in the wild streets of Montreal. They kept quiet for so long, so long that fans must have wondered whether they departed for good.


[...]


The hockey bosses, meanwhile, must hate this. Good luck getting ratings on Versus if the Habs face the Sharks in the Stanley Cup Finals. Even the people who learned Ryan Miller’s name in February won’t know more than two names in that series. Get ready for the NHL to be out-watched by women’s volleyball. Again.

But you know what? Too bad. True fans know the NBA playoffs never make jaws drop like the NHL has this spring. The NBA never has No. 8 seeds beating the regular-season champs and then the defending champs, back to back, led by a slow giant named Hal with 50 stitches in his leg. True fans are tired of trying to expand the brand. Sick of trying to follow the puck? Don’t know what the Halak is going on out there? Fine. Bye. Enjoy LeBron James.
I especially like the last bits I quoted.  One gets tired of prosetylizing after a while (but we SHALL continue here at EIP, as it's something of a Life Mission for me in my old age), trying to explain the elegance, speed and beauty of a sport to yahoos people who simply don't give a shit.  Fine. Bye. Enjoy LeBron.

The fourth Game Seven of these playoffs is on Versus this evening... FOUR Game Sevens and we're not even to the conference finals yet!  Once again we few, we proud, we puckheads will be treated to 60 minutes of high drama and spectacular do-or-die athleticism in pursuit of sport's greatest trophy. The action begins at 1900 hrs ET on Versus.  I'll be rooting for those B's... see my item immediately below.

Related: "NHL relishes playoff vibe," in the Toronto Sun.

The hat-tip goes to Kukla's Korner for both items.

The Dee-troit Connection

Adam Proteau has an intruiging column in The Hockey News, the premise of which is this:
But what teams would provide the ideal conference and Cup final for each NHL franchise?

There’s no rhyme or reason to the answers. Some teams become the most bitter of rivals due to geography; others build mutual hate through previous playoff showdowns or divisional history. Let’s take a stab at identifying them in each of the 30 NHL markets...
We're only gonna steal those bits where Dee-troit is mentioned, for obvious reasons.  So let's get started...
Boston
Ideal Conference Final Opponent: Montreal
Ideal Cup Final Opponent: Detroit
Why? There isn’t much that’s more tantalizing to Bruins fans than any series against a fellow Original Six franchise.


Chicago
Ideal Conference Final Opponent: Detroit
Ideal Cup Final Opponent: New York Rangers
Why? The Original Six factor trumps all other contenders.
 

Colorado
Ideal Conference Final Opponent: Detroit
Ideal Cup Final Opponent: Montreal
Why? A Canadiens/Avs series would appeal more to Quebecers than Coloradans, but true fans of the Avs’ history would understand completely.
 

Columbus
Ideal Conference Final Opponent: Detroit
Ideal Cup Final Opponent: Pittsburgh
Why? The Wings have been Columbus’ only playoff opponent; and Ohio’s NFL rivalries with Pennsylvania make the Pens a natural fit as an ideal Cup opponent.



Detroit
Ideal Conference Final Opponent: Colorado
Ideal Cup Final Opponent: Toronto
Why? Chicago is Detroit’s longstanding rival, but the playoff dogfights the Avs and Wings have had push Colorado to the top. Detroit’s Norris Division days with Toronto gives the Leafs the edge over the Habs.


Montreal
Ideal Conference Final Opponent: Toronto
Ideal Cup Final Opponent: Detroit
Why? Beating the despised Leafs as well as the longtime rival Red Wings in a single post-season would make the entire Habs team that did it a shoo-in for sainthood in Montreal.



Nashville
Ideal Conference Final Opponent: Detroit
Ideal Cup Final Opponent: Atlanta
Why? The Preds and Wings have a brief-but-bearish playoff relationship; Atlanta is just a four-hour drive from Nashville.


New York Rangers
Ideal Conference Final Opponent: New York Islanders
Ideal Cup Final Opponent: Detroit
Why? One hopes the Isles and Blueshirts could meet again just to bring closure to the “Potvin Sucks!” chants. But who’s kidding who – Rangers fans are never letting that crap go.


Phoenix
Ideal Conference Final Opponent: Detroit
Ideal Cup Final Opponent: Buffalo
Why? Arizona has a lot of Wings fans, as well as Sabres supporters; that’s enough to make them the preferred opponents for this playoff-history-thin franchise.


Pittsburgh
Ideal Conference Final Opponent: Philadelphia
Ideal Cup Final Opponent: Detroit
Why? Because Penguins fans hate Flyers fans more than Heidi Montag hates the natural aging process. And because the Wings have been a solid Cup final rival for the Pens in each of the past two years.
 

Washington
Ideal Conference Final Opponent: Pittsburgh
Ideal Cup Final Opponent: Detroit
Why? Crosby vs. Ovechkin. And Washington’s only Cup final series came against the Red Wings in 1998.
So there you have it.  Detroit is a preferred match-up for ten out of the 30 NHL teams, according to one hockey pundit.  And I can't say that I disagree with any one of the proposed contests.  Hell, I hope to live long enough to see half of these.  But out of all of them?  Boston-Detroit, Rangers-Detroit, or Montreal-Detroit in a Cup final would be best... the rest would be gravy.  A Toronto-Detroit Cup final would be the tastiest treat of all... coz I remember the Norris Division days.  Original Six, baybee... Original Six!  Coz it's all about the history.

Read the whole thing, as it's said.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack (AKA Another Skirmish in the Guitar Wars)

Well... this is a small war, as far as wars go, given there are only three belligerents.  Be that as it may, it's a war I find worth fighting.  And to that end, there was some talk of General Vaughn on one of the fronts recently... but as far as I can tell no one has yet to mobilize SRV and bring him into the fight.  We shall change that, right now.  I give you "Riviera Paradise..."



This tune is somewhat out of character for SRV as it's laid-back to the max.  But I think this tune... above all others... shows off his guitar chops better than most.  YMMV, of course.

Minor digression.... We spent slightly less than a month in Austin during the epic 1999-2000 El Casa Móvil De Pennington US Tour (Border-to-Border, Coast-to-Coast... all three coasts, and then some).  The only reason we left Austin, actually, is we had a previous engagement (scroll down at the link) that HAD to be honored.  It was a matter of extreme duty and obligation and we do NOT regret our leaving Austin for it.  

That said... we were only in Austin for perhaps a week or less when we noticed that EVERY single bar... dive and otherwise... in the city had an autographed picture of SRV behind the bar.  Every. Single. One.  The interesting thing about this phenomenon was the barkeep would gladly explain to you, upon inquiry, exactly how said autographed picture happened to come into their possession.  Assuming the barman was "of a certain age," of course.  It really didn't matter to me if those stories were entirely factual... and sometimes I had my doubts, believe me... because they were always entertaining.  Always.

Have I ever mentioned I was headed to Austin when I arrived in P-Ville these seven years ago?  No?  Well, I was.  I might make it yet, but on the other hand I don't know if I could stand it.  The lure of 6th Street is oh-so-very strong and I'm not sure my ol' heart could take that sorta thing for an extended period of time.  A month was... ummm... exciting enough.  Oh yes indeedy... it most certainly was.

Heh

Regarding last night's final EIP update, this:
The day after - 05-13-10 


Hey, look at that. The sun still came up!
"This" being an extensive postmortem from the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette.  I do believe I've read these very same things before, only elsewhere.  The names have changed but the circumstances and the excuses are pretty much the same ol', same ol'.

The thing that makes me laugh is all the "they were tired after sooo many games they played the last three years" BS press the Flightless Birds are getting.  So?  Do we know another team that might be in this same boat, only worse?  And by worse I mean the Flightless Birds went out in the first round in 2007 (4-1)... while the Beloved Wings lost the WCF in six games that same year.  But still... out is out.  For whatever reason.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

YES!

Schadenfreude 'R' Us... Pittsburgh loses to Montreal, 5-2.  At this point I don't really CARE who wins the Cup; my wish has been fulfilled in that it won't be those frickin' Flightless Birds.

Way t'go, Habs!

Update, 2200 hrs:  Noted Red Wings blogger George Malik:
While I rooted for the Montreal Canadiens during their game 7 victory over the Pittsburgh Penguins on Wednesday night, I must also admit that I felt and now feel a bit of buyer's remorse, so to speak.  The Pittsburgh Penguins and their fans now know how Red Wings fans who've been around since the back-to-back Cup wins in 97 and 98 feel every time the Wings are eliminated and/or every time someone else lifts the Stanley Cup.

[...]
Once your team wins the Cup, witnessing your team do anything less than defend it or retake it kicks you in the hockey fan's heart, because one tends to become very, very attached to that silver mug.  Once you've sipped out of it, or watched your team lift it...Nothing less will suffice.  And in that sense, I actually feel sympathy, perhaps for the only time, for Sidney Crosby, the Penguins, and their fans. 

Losing "your" Cup stings to the very core.  Every time.  It's the worst feeling in the sporting world, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone, even Crosby.
Well, Good On George... he's a better man than I.  I view this fine turn of events as simple payback for the seemingly thousands of times (once would be one time too many) during this playoff season I've had to watch that disgusting Versus ad with Crosby raising the Cup AT THE JOE.  Payback, baybee.  Payback.

Oh.  One more thing.  There's the matter of the Gold Medal game in Vancouver, too.  Just sayin'.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

We took our first Happy Hour beer outside today but the experience was slightly less than Happy.  On account o' because o' the wind, Gentle Reader, which is still Spring-fierce.  So... our second beer will be taken indoors as we get ourselves ready for the evening's entertainment.  We're listening to Richard Thompson this afternoon, he who is the author/performer of one of the VERY few mo'sickle songs extant.  To wit:



Lord knows there are hundreds... if not thousands... of musical paeans to fast cars abroad in the musical universe.  But there are precious few mo'sickle tunes and more's the pity.  It's a sad state of affairs when Steppenwolf's "Born to Be Wild" is the ONLY biker tune that comes to most peoples' minds... if any such thoughts actually happen... when the subject of great mo'sickle tunes comes up.  Mostly ya get "Wha?" and a dumb look when you ask the question.

But we digress.  While Mr. Thompson earns a special place in my heart for "1952 Vincent Black Lightning" he is much more than that one song.  (Check out his biography on The Wiki for a list of his awards and for people who have covered his songs.)  Oh yes, indeed.  There's this, fer instance:



Things I tried to put shine in her eyes
Wire wheels and shimmering things
Wild nights when the whole world seemed to fly

She said "The thing that's so unique
When we're together we don't have to speak.
We'll always be such good friends, you and I"
Haunting, on oh-so-many levels.

We shall now return to crying in our beer.  Heh.