In the continuing effort to keep myself amused:
Posted in the office by a stack of abandoned print jobs.
In the continuing effort to keep myself amused:
As much as I love (er, am obsessed with) hockey, the commercials are starting to get to me. During the regular season, this isn’t an issue because we record the games and can fast forward through ads and period breaks. Playoffs need to be watched live when at all possible, so I’m stuck.
The issue for me is that they are incredibly redundant, and some are really old copy. Discover – I’m looking your way. Drop that stupid-ass campaign with the ‘twins’. He said FRAUD protection, asshat, not frog. Move on. They have been running these exact same ads for at least three years. A number of the other ads are loaded with Canadian wuss-rock (sort of redundant, right?), which can really get into your head the way a jingle does. The music isn’t technically bad, just so repetitive. Of course, I’m actually glad to see the chicks-with-ukeleles-who-sing-off-key trend is finally ending. Apple, if you bring that shit back, I….have nothing to threaten you with, I would never buy your crappy walled-garden products anyway. But I do promise to mute your ads.
So blablah, what the frick is your point, Jaim? Mostly to set up for this song that has been stuck in my head since at least Saturday. Not Canadian, but on the wuss-rock level. It’s a fun song, though, and like a jingle, will get in your head. Enjoy: Kids (by Goodtimes Goodtimes).
Yesterday, marked the untimely passing of Mike’s brother. Sometimes the emotion of it all is still more raw than it should be, wounds that just won’t heal.
This year, we’ve had the fortune of finding some peace from the pain. Mike and I have somewhat-recently come into our ‘inheritance’ from his brother – his entire music collection. For those of you that knew Mike’s brother, you realize what a vast and awesome collection this is. For those of you who don’t – think of it as about 400 or so CDs of just about every variety of music (with an exceptionally large Steely Dan section). We’ve been in the process of digitizing these CDs and making them available to the family music library.
What I love about this is that music was always such an important part of his life, and of course, remains so in ours. Music was probably the strongest link between us all. Now that we have his music, it’s like having a little part of him, the part I best love and remember, with us always.
Keep on dancing thru the daylight
Greet the morning air with song
No ones’s noticed -
but the band’s all pack and gone.
Was it ever there at all?
Having felt like I’ve been on a penalty kill all week, I was delighted when a friend/co-worker brought me these, made by her very own talented hands:
Check out her Etsy site if you’re interested: Pink Tabby Paperie. Her work is gorgeous and kitchy. Perfect way to spruce up a boring cube.
Use the Oven Instead…
The latest entry to Mike‘s and my ever growing collection of internet-weirdness is brought to us by South African musician Thor Rixon. And no, it’s probably NSFW or for small children or the hyper sensitive, but you’re not one of those so, please, please view this. You will never be the same (or at least come away with a few handy recipes).
I owe all of you a St. Pat’s weekend round-up. Unfortunately, I’m squeezed for time right now.
However, I do have enough time to play out a little TBT fun. The other day I offhandedly mentioned The Wiz to Mike. He was clueless as to what I was referring. So are you? Tell me you have heard of The Wiz (and I don’t mean the electronics salesman from Seinfeld). I loved the Wiz. We even got to sing some of the songs in grade school.
I guess Mike and I won’t be playing this anytime soon…sigh…
Here’s to hoping I get a bit of puck luck or luck of the Irish this week, or both. I’ll take whatever I can get.
Mike just placed an order for us, and if said luck kicks in, the order will be shipped on time for Tuesday. See you at the parade. If you’re there and looking for me, I hope to be wearing this:
There are a 1001 reasons I love Savannah. Here is another. I was walking through Johnson Square, heading north. On the very north end of the walkway, leading to Bryan Street, there was a cute, young couple taking some romantic selfies. As I was walking toward them, there was a gorgeous lady who was walking next to me, like she could have been a model type gorgeous. Tall, long hair, impeccably dressed.
Like me, she sees the cute couple and their selfie-taking, and instantly photo bombs them by hugging a tree, including wrapping one of her legs around it. I busted out laughing. This woman’s got balls. How cool she is!
Then she gets even cooler. She proceeds to walk in the same direction as me, but a little more hurried. She walks right up to the young couple and offers to take their picture. Oh yeah she did. They, of course, take her up on her generous offer not knowing the surprise they have waiting for them when they look at the pics later.
Lady, you are da bomb! Photo-bomb! I want to be your friend.
This oldie has been stuck in my head all morning:
I’m not complaining. I love this song.
Going way back, to November 1954, this is my current reading: Galaxy Magazine. The subjects of the stories in this particular issue have a lot of connections to Mike or my hobbies/interests so I had to start reading it. I’m only into the first story – about a legal case disputing whether or not DIY robots are property or independent beings. It’s hilarious and rather thought-compelling so far. There is also a story in there about a musician who tries to become a museum exhibit and another about genealogy and time travel. It’s like this issue was made for me nearly decades before I existed. Nice!
Finally, I was digging through my Memories Box and found a film selfie from April 1994 of these two cuties (taken near the woods that no longer exist off of Wolf Rd in Frankfort, IL):
Clearly this was before we knew about making duckface so we don’t look like we have extra chins. I swear, neither one of us was fat. In fact, we were pretty damned fine looking 17 years olds if I may say so myself.
I think I’m going to wander around with my index finger in the air. If it works in parking lots, it may work here. Please, kind friend or stranger – miracle me! There simply is not enough of me to go around.
I meant to post this when I first saw it nearly two weeks ago (Feb. 6). This was taken outside my office building – looks like someone got glitter bombed. Kind of sorry I missed it.
Happy Friday the 13th. Stay positive.
Working at law firms for as many years as I have, I get invited to an overwhelming amount of fundraisers. So let me ask you – why do 99% of fundraisers either involve drinking or running (and sometimes both)?
Seriously, I don’t do either. Because of that I am not inclined to go to your fundraising event. Being that I’m not really a charitable person (hey, at least I admit it), I find it’s an easy excuse to get out of the invite if there will be drinking or running involved. So if you’re going to be organizing such an event, consider doing something, anything different. You might actually be able to separate me from my money that way. Just a thought.
If you know anything about me, you know I really dislike talking on the phone. This is most strongly evidenced by the fact that I am one of the few people in all of the western world that does not have a cell or smart phone. I haven’t felt the need to get one or that I am ‘missing out’ on anything because I don’t have one. The single drawback that I’ve experienced is that I don’t have a convenient way to store everyone’s phone numbers. My work around is to maintain a call list and carry it in my wallet. The point of all of this is to let you know that I am updating my list. If you’d like me to have your number, and think I don’t already have it, please email me at legaleeze @ hotmail DOT com or send me a message through Facebook and I will put you on my list. As promised, don’t worry, I won’t call you.
A few interesting links from around teh interwebz. Enjoy and pass along –
Unmasked: Can playing guitar make goalies better? – including bonus pic of Henrik, drool.
We’re all obsessed waiting for the eggs to hatch, now you can be too: Landings Bird Cam
Racist, not racist, bigoted, or just dumb? You decide>>> This morning while perusing Facebook, I happened upon a video posted by a friend. It was of a young, black woman getting her hair braided in a very intricate and beautiful way. Clearly, the video was to showcase the stylist’s abilities and to show how pretty the lady looked when it was done.
As any of you FBers know, once you view a video on FB, an ad or two will appear below it on your timeline, which FB believes would be of interest to you based on the video you just viewed (and I’m sure based on other things – it’s an algorithm). As soon as I was done with the hair braiding video, FB shows me an ad – on how to crochet a hat. Wow, FB. Really? Exactly how is a crocheted hat in anyway related to hair braids? Specifically, black lady hair braids. Is FB’s algorithm really implying that black ladies’ hair looks like crocheted yarn? Why not show me an ad for a Raggety Ann doll? Ouch. Could you be any more degrading, FB?
Am I over-reaching here in feeling insulted? Why not offer to show me more hair braiding videos? Why in the world would FB feel there is any connection to crocheted hats and hair braids? I’m probably looking way too far into this. Yes, I acknowledge it’s an algorithm, but I suggest FB needs to adjust it. If this is not straight up bigotry, it certainly gives an appearance of complete ignorance to black hair, and that is just not acceptable in 2015. Get with the times or we will leave you behind, FB.
Here’s one of those odd coincidence stories for you. First, some background.
I often spend Savannah’s single winter month inside doing genealogical research. This year has been no different. I’ve recently put in some hours on my Ferguson and Quigley lines in an attempt to have some good ‘Irish Family History’ to add to my tree by St. Pat’s.
My research so far indicates my Irish ancestors came from North Ireland, Counties Derry and Antrim. To inspire me to continue on my N. Ireland research, on Tuesday, January 20th, I updated my work computer desktop with a photo of a statue of Manannán Mac Lír, a Celtic sea god, that was placed on a hillside in County Derry in 2013. It looks a little like this:
Well, it did, anyway.
On January 21st, I read that this statue was STOLEN. Yep, that’s right, someone(s) had the gall to steal a six foot, weight unknown but quite heavy, statue. Even worse, the jackasses who stole it thought it would be a good idea to leave a wooden cross in it’s place with a sign stating, “Thou Shalt Not Have False Gods Before Me”. Really, zealots? You feel threatened by this fiberglass statue? Pathetic.
Not a new point, but it’s worth repeating – if zealots feel the need to tear down a statue of a fictional character because it threatens their god, then their god is a weakling and shouldn’t be worshipped anyway. Suck it up cowards and return the statue. Your god wants you to. She told me.
My uncle found an abandoned 1960s Eko 995, and a number of family members were kind enough to make arrangements to send it here from Illinois. This weekend, with Mike as my guide, we were set to begin the tear down and clean up of the Eko. Unfortunately, we didn’t get very far. Turns out, the truss rod was broken off in the nut, so that killed any plans for this bass until we figure out whether we can get this fixed for a reasonable price.
Mike wrote about it more on his music blog, here: 1960s Eko 995 Broken Truss Rod Nut. He is reaching out to people he knows for ideas, and I am feeling slightly hopeful he will come up with a workable solution. In the meantime, I thought I’d share about this too in the off chance one you have an idea for this. I sure don’t want to have to part this thing off. It’s so pretty-pretty. Help!
Jerry Garcia was here.
And yes, I’ve broken out the colored pencils to, literally, color. I’ve reverted to 10 years old and it feels fabulous. Come join me on your next lunch break.
While I’m on the subject of adults coloring, some fun from 1961:
The Executive Coloring Book. Get your grey crayons ready!
Christmas Irony: Busker in Johnson Square playing Little Drummer Boy…on the flute. I love this place.