Category Archives: Blogroll

Put Your Record On

It really has been tough to blog with zero breaks. It might be time soon for at least a few days, but I’ll announce that when it actually happens. In the meantime, Kris, over at My First Gray Hair, has put up her meme kind of thing from I think Facebook:

What would your own album look like if you were in a band?

Follow the directions below and find out…Here are the rules:

1 – Go to Wikipedia. Hit “random”or click The first random Wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.

2 – Go to Quotations Page and select “random quotations”or click The last four or five words of the very last quote on the page is the title of your first album.

3 – Go to Flickr and click on “explore the last seven days”or click Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

4 – Use Photoshop or similar to put it all together.

I do not have Ye Olde PhotoShoppe, but GraphicConverter. Because I have almost no idea how to use it, I did cheat a bit and had to change the name of my band. I could not fit it on the album cover, as I could not figure out how to change the font size.

The original band name was soooooo much better: something like Heteromonology (though that isn’t quite it and I didn’t write down the exact spelling).

I also edited the quote to three words, as four or five would have been: dead and tortures the living. I guess that could have worked too. I still think I would have had space/font issues if I went for the longer version. But the three word one worked so well with the picture.

I’m not sure the picture could have been any better.

So, what’s yours?

Song by: Corrine Bailey Ray

Fascination Street

It’s the last day of the month and I’m closing in on my 90th straight day of a blog entry. This is tiring, ya know?

So I’m just taking Tornwordo’s meme to do Gooooooogle Street Views of the house(s) you lived in when growing up, or as he calls it, your childhood home.

I wasn’t sure exactly what a childhood house actually is, so I am giving you three.

Here is the house my parents lived in when I was born. I don’t think it was so filled-in with foliage, since I think it was a bare lot when they built it. I remember one of my sisters saying years later, they planted a pussy willow in the yard. I always thought that was a funny word.  hehehehe……pussy willow.

We didn’t stay there long. Maybe two years after I was born? I remember zilch about this house. After there, we moved here:

This is where we lived for the next three or four years. Right outside Toledo – and very very close to the Michigan border. Allegedly, the playground at my kindergarten was in Michigan, but I see that as implausible with state and city taxes for public school.

My father still talks about this house, or really, the neighborhood. I have fond memories of the house, or really, the neighborhood. And the neighbors. Bruno, the big german shepard, from two doors down. Or the neighbors who had a kid my age with my first name. Who knew?

There was no basketball hoop when we lived there. What we did have was a tree my family planted in the front yard. I remember my oldest sister pushing me into the freshly dug hole for it, while my hands were in my pockets. I couldn’t get out of the hole, or the hands out of my pockets due to how I was laying said hole.  I remember them looking down and laughing at me.  Bitches!

My mother planted the arborvitae to the left of the house as a barrier to the neighbors, look how huge they now stand!

After there, we moved here:

Ok, there is no street view for this house – where my parents still live. In June, they will have been there for 40 years! 40!!!! You can kind of see, they live on a golf course and it was a great place to really grow up. I was there from 1st grade until I left for college.

Denton and I still go out there a few times per month for dinner. I wouldn’t mind my parents moving into something smaller than their 5 bedroom house, but at their age, that doesn’t seem realistic to pack-up, sell and move. The house is still nice, but I know when it is time to sell, us kids will have to either take a bath on it, or do some renovations before selling it.

One of my sisters moved right near them on King’s Orchard. They’ve since moved.

We never lived here. One set of grandparents did. I was just looking this shit up. It was the first and only house I’ve known with a “breezeway”. It had cool red laminent flooring though in the kitchen.

My grandfather killed himself in the garage. I wasn’t supposed to know that, but I saw the death certificate that was left out on the dining room table. I guess maybe a 6th grader should be sheltered from that. I’m not sure how much my sisters knew of this at the time. I kept it to myself for at least a decade.

Maybe my childhood ended sooner than it should have.

I never tag anyone for these meme things.  As far as I know, no one did my Mr. Picasso Head.

Song by: the Cure

Comic Books

I was never a reader of comic books.  I do mean ever.  I’m not sure I’ve ever read one.  I know I’ve never owned or bought one.  I guess I’m not your normal gay boy.  Or normal blogger.  There seem to be a lot of guys out there in Blogland who have devoted their forum to the comic book.  I’m just not one of them.  I’m just not that into it.

I have seen Batman and Spidermen on the big screen, but have successfully avoided things like X-Men, the Hulk, and that thing with blind Ben Affleck.   It is just not my style.

But it is early early Monday and I have to be out of the house early.  The blog post I was working on is not ready.   Time got away from me.

Ruckiry (not Jon’s boss) Moby provided me an excellent, and fairly easy post, so I don’t interrupt my 70+ days  of straight (ha!) blogging.   He became a superhero – and so now I am one also.

Ok, I’m a superhero, but even in my geeky way.  I’m about two steps below Mild Mannered Shoe-Shine Boy.   Yes, I’m the Mighty Thoughtful Philanthropist ……albeit one with incredible legs, arms and torso.  I thought the alter-ego was supposed to be mild-mannered, not the hero portion.  Can I not get anything right?

My mighty weapon is a shopping bag – only because a briefcase was not available as a choice.  It is probably just filled with stuff from Whole Foods.  ….because I’m that gay!

I’ve seen the Incredibles enough to know that Edna Mode says a superhero should never have a cape, as it will just end badly for the protagonist, but as it goes, I couldn’t help at least putting one on.  It looked better than wings – which were my other choice.

The tie, well, it was an obvious choice for me.  My superpower?  Probably the ability to use pivot tables in a single bound!
So, feel free – make yourself a superhero.  You can thank Moby later.

Song by:  Debbie Harry

Kiss of Death

Colour me bummed to see this:

RJ had one of the few blogs I checked in on daily. I’m pretty sure I was one of the few he did the same with. That last sentence is just a guess on my part.

His last post was back in November and every few weeks I’d shoot an email his way to make sure he was ok. Only once in awhile would he reply, usually with a word or three. For a writer, he used his words sparingly.

Without ever meeting, we developed a somewhat brotherly bond. Had geography worked in our favour, I assume we’d be friends. The things we liked and did not were quite scarily on the same level. I think my group of friends from the last few decades, and whom I reference here often, would allow him into our little group.

And while the taking down of his blog, with no notice, did not surprise me – I won’t lie to say it didn’t disappoint me. Deep down, I was hoping he’d just start back up – again, without any notice.

RJ assures me he is fine. I do expect to stumble upon him with another blog – one started with no notice. Maybe more wishful thinking.

As for the rest of my blogroll – in the last few months, I have added and subtracted folks without fanfare. Most are the same, but welcome Steve and Jake. And welcome back Tony, in his new blog.

Song by: New Order


I’m loopt-ed.

It’s a little 1984-ish, but via your cellphone people you chose to track you, can track you.

I don’t think anyone can really tell if I’m at 7-11 or Popeye’s, just that I’m in the general vicinity. ….and it’s not like I have a ton of people who I’m following or allowing them to follow me. As you can see from the map below, I’ve got bi-coastal coverage (thanks Moby, thanks Brad).

Now, if you want to get really really personal, just team up loopt with my new most favourite (yet untested) iPhone application
Yes – use loopt to find which bathroom I might need to use at a moment’s notice. CREEPY.

Song by: the Bangles

Rosie Strike Back

I have been a fan of Rosanne Cash‘s since the late 70’s.  Yes, I’m that old.   She is and was a great interpretive recording artist, but she is a really impressive songwriter too.

Actually, she is a pretty good writer, period.  She has a good book of short stories that is at least a decade old, a children’s book (who doesn’t?) and something non-fiction that is slated to drop in 2009.

As recording artists go, most of their websites are trash and only updated when they have a product to hawk.  Cash’s isn’t quite like that.  Since she only releases a disk every 3-4 years, who’d ever go to her site if it were only updated that often?  I can usually go to hers a few times a month to find something new.

She keeps a sort of blog and updates activities along with a standard newsletter, Mrs L’s Monthly (her married name is Leventhal – so now you don’t have to wonder).  Truth be told, there are months that it isn’t updated, but that is not really here or there. There are also updates on performances, activities and charities which she is active in.

Cash has also been an infrequent contributor to Measure for Measure, a NYT songwriter’s blog.  She has had pieces in New York and other publications as well.  So I had high hopes for her newest piece that ran in the Nation this last week.  It is a very tongue-in-cheek look at the GOP choice for VP:  She Who Must Not Be Named.

The article is good, but it’s not great.  She has all the right intent, but the execution seems half-hearted. Cash is usually smarter and wittier than the piece that is published. Maybe it was hurried job or something.

I guess it is still worth a read.

Song by: Rosanne Cash