Year In Review

Why look back?

I don't know. I'm just a looking back kind of guy. It goes with the territory when everything you do has an anniversary. I'm overly sentimental.

What all happened here, without me doing any research, just going by memory?

The highlight of the year -- one of the biggies -- was the fact that I was on hiatus for two or maybe close to three months. It was around March or April that it started. And it continued until I came off it. In the hiatus, the memorable one-dimensional character of Garrett Al was created. Named so to make him sound like Geritol. Look him up in the archives. What a character! Garrett Al, as I recall, made some sort of "play" for me, my affections, but was rebuffed and taken away by police.

There were other highlights. Two biggies come to mind. 1) The whole Grange Brotherhood (and Sisterhood) affair. This involved me taking on a nefarious rural association who was luring young men to their deaths, being kicked to death by assassin horses. There was a Peruvian connection, a queen. It was very exciting. I raced against the clock to solve the whole thing, finally doing something (I don't recall) to neutralize, then counteract the horses. It was exciting, but everyday was a struggle for survival.

The other biggie would be: 2) My tenure as a self help, self esteem, lifestyle sciences coach. For a while there I reigned supreme among the positive-thinking glitterati. I was putting it forth day by day, incredibly helpful themes and teachings, to prop up everyone's self esteem and make them feel better. I held forth with teachings that gave people the confidence to achieve. I called my efforts the "Drive for Pride," and it was very helpful to a lot of souls both forlorn and self-estranged.

I'm thinking back to what ended it. I had a teaching one day on having a "Spine of Steel" (or something). And someone took it hyper literally and set forth a rebuttal against me, a piece of criticism that sent me over the edge. I believe her argument was that spines are not actually made of steel and that no one should say they are. I tried to make the point -- I think I did -- that it was a figure of speech, but the damage was already done. My whole self esteem empire crumbled before me. I had no will -- none -- to go on after that criticism.

So the whole "Drive for Pride" was both a high point and a low point. It carried the seeds of its own destruction in it, unknown to me at the time. I really thought it might go on forever and that I would end up making a lot of money on it. But as it was, I didn't make a dime.

Those are the highlights. But there was lots of other things, miscellaneous things that should be mentioned, but with the restrictions of time, I can only say a couple things. Wasn't it this year that I had Old Faithful, the geyser, in my back yard? It seems like it was. Then they took it away.

And it seems like it was this year that I had the whole reverie involving Skidrow and fly by night carpet stores. In this year I know I definitely drove by a crummy carpet store and thought about its prospects. And, this is a true story, before the year was out they were closed, and apparently had gone on to another town to ply their evil trade.

I end the year with a hope ... a hope for a bright and engaging tomorrow ... May I be happy in the future, as happy as I can be, as happy as my imagination will allow me to be, until that eventual day when I have grayed up, my organs have declined and failed, and I finally pass away. That will be a terribly sad day. But when it gets here, I will have a lot of accomplishments to look back on and smile about. This year was one in a long series of such years that will eventually cause me to smile, when eventually I do fail and die. That day will come for me, I believe, just as it has come for countless others who even now are dead.

Days Are Stacking Up Everywhere

We're getting to the end of the year. It's almost 365 ex-days we've got stacked up everywhere. And with age, I'm getting quite a collection. I'm still tripping over a few months from earlier in the decade! And there's a few days and incidents from the '90s that still pop up now and then!

That's the way my life goes. I'll have a simple enough collection, something I'm passionate about, that seeks completion, then it becomes a behemoth and I think I should pare it back (if only I could), so I stack it up somewhere, get plastic totes, then implement a complicated inventory system to keep the totes straight. Next thing, I have a system of warehouses, storage facilities, safety deposit boxes, electric eyes for security, and I have to show two forms of ID and a thumbprint just to see it. I have to convince the guards I'm really me.

Even time is like that. I have plans for each day, then if I don't get around to it, my plans become backlogged, stoved up, itching either for release back into the wild or a quick disposal of their case. Some things you just have to part with. "If you really love it, you have to let it go." But I can't let you go because I love you too much. My thought processes say to me, How did I ever let prehistoric times go? Because fortunately I wasn't alive all these millions of years.

We need a self help group for "People Who Love Time Too Much."

There's a definite thought in there somewhere. Which is why worry about the times you've had when you don't worry about the times you didn't have? And someday you're not going to worry about the times you'll never see, so why let the visible ones get you down?

We've got another Happy New Year coming, right around the corner, and all the days of this present year still with us in memory. Plus the plans that were never realized, that now we need to let go, if only we can. I'd love to just forgive myself for not getting it done.

Maybe I'll do that. Just forgive myself for this and that. Then I'll have a whole massive collection of memories of forgivenesses. All catalogued and neatly arranged, until they start stacking up, falling against each other, and needing their own warehouse.

Bush's Baked Beans -- Some Big Meat!

I loved seeing this. Look at that big piece of meat in the foreground. You know how they put a little piece of meat in baked beans and pork 'n' beans? That big piece of meat was in a can of Bush's Baked Beans that we had for lunch today. And it looks like, in the back there, there's another little piece of meat, which I hadn't noticed.

You know you've got a huge chunk of meat when you have to go get your camera to document it! I couldn't believe it. It was delicious.

The World's Tiniest Box Of Chocolates

A box of chocolates, to be a true box of chocolateS, would have to have more than one chocolate. But someone gave me a box of chocolates that only had two chocolates, making it the world's tiniest box of chocolates.

That's right -- two pieces.

It's an actual little box, a base, a lid, a tiny holder for the chocolates inside, and the two pieces of candy cradled in there, just waiting for three seconds to pass until it's an ex-box of chocolates.

Actually I tried to savor them as much as I could, because, face it, it's easy to see the end from the beginning when there's only two to start with! I ate one, then had to decide whether I was an optimist or pessimist, who thought the box was already half empty or still half full. I decided it was half empty, then completely empty, when I went for the other piece.

What is this box of chocolates called? "Whitman's Reserve," subtitled in an exquisite script font, "A Premium mini collection." A mini collection? Can two be a collection? I would've liked to put that over on the guys when I was a kid. "You guys want to come see my baseball card collection? It's great. I've got two cards." It's a mini collection. Mini collection, my eye. You better hope you have the bubble gum, because all you've got is two stinking cards!

But the "Whitman's Reserve" is a nice little box of chocolates. The box is a very nicely crafted box. It seems like a heck of a lot of work and packaging for two pieces of candy. But of course they make money by making it look classy.

I can't remember what they tasted like, but there was a round white coated one with little brown stripes and a square brown piece. The little holder inside, kind of like a gold lined casket, shows the shapes of the late candy bodies.

Now the candy's gone, but I still have this little box to deal with.

Dogs Don't Pee On Tires Like They Used To

It's such a snowy day, and it's still coming down. Supposed to all day. So, whoever out there is still "dreaming of a White Christmas," please wake up and look around!

Snow and vast quantities of it is very lovely. I like all the drifts. It piles up on the air conditioner like a conehead. But it plays havoc with taking the dog out. I have to carry her for certain stretches, till at least we get to the road.

A little bit ago I took the snow blower and made a good enough path to get the car out of the garage if needed. And then thought it was such a nice wide clear path, it'd be good to release the hound and have her take a potty break. She immediately peed, since it was nice, in her opinion and mine, to see bare ground, even if it's just the driveway.

It made me start thinking how seldom you see dogs pee on tires these days. That's one of the forgotten truths of long ago, that dogs peed on tires all the time. Everywhere you'd look, say 40 years ago, there'd be a dog with his leg arched up, peeing on a tire. But now you don't see if. I'll bet I haven't seen it for 20 years!

So what's the difference? Well, dogs used to be running loose all the time. There wasn't anyone attending them or holding them on a leash. And obviously one of the best places to pee is on a tire. I don't know why, unless it's that tires are in motion quite a bit, and are bringing little bits of "far away" home with them. If they go through a park, they're likely to hit patches here and there where other dogs have walked, or even peed. So the dog notices the scent and gravitates toward it.

Plus, back then, when they were doing it all the time, it just built on itself, because before one dog gets there, a hundred have already been there. Now, though, with years of no peeing on tires, and all the tires being new since 40 years ago, the dogs wouldn't know what to do if they were turned loose. Because they have all these other places ready to go.

Like I said, it's a snowy day. Remember, don't eat yellow snow.

UPDATED: I'm looking at my Amazon ad. It's for a UGODOG Indoor Dog Potty, only $49.95. I never heard of that, but I've often thought, why not bring some of the outside inside around November? Arrange a big place in your basement and the dog would have a private spot to go in the winter. But this indoor dog potty looks good too. It looks about 4 or 5 feet big, depending on how big the dog is. Put a tire on it and he'd have all kinds of fun!

It's A Snowy Christmas Eve

I was looking out the back door. The snow drifts are big over by the garage. Then a little farther, to the right, the well has snow making some interesting shapes all over it.

It's dark out there. We used to get a lot of cousins over for Christmas Eve. But that's when there was a lot more family. And Grandpa was alive, etc.

The only thing that might turn up tonight is the Abominable Snowman. Looking for a dentist. I like that Island of Misfit Toys cartoon.

I have a Christmas 1959 tape that has Grandma and Grandpa, aunts, parents, cousins, and me on it. It was recorded 50 years ago tonight, in fact. Since we always had Christmas Eve at Grandma's place. I was just listening to it. One of my cousins dominates, yelling about what he got, "a dinosaur set," then "two pair of mittens!"

It's interesting to hear Grandpa's voice, even as indistinct as it is among most of the noise. This recording from 1959 is probably the only sound recording of his voice.

What a great night. Snow. Memories. Some Christmas treats. A piece of chocolate. Red pop.

White Christmas -- The Whole Movie!

I watched a whole movie tonight, in one sitting, which is almost unheard of. It was "White Christmas," with Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, and Rosemary Clooney and Vera Ellen.

I'm probably the only person who hasn't seen this movie before. I'd only seen a couple minutes of it. All this time! And we even had it on VHS for years. But movies and me don't always mix.

It showed up today on DVD, and it being the day before Christmas Eve and all, I decided to sit there while it was playing, and pretty soon two hours had passed and it was over. So that's how it happened.

It's a very nice movie. I only have one complaint. The whole time Rosemary Clooney was mad at Bing Crosby sucked. And I thought it was especially bad that he never learned why she was so mad. Come on. Someone could've said, "Hey, why are you so mad? Let's work this out." But it was an intrinsic part of the plot, I guess, although it seems like it could've been worked out somehow.

Anyway, other than that, I loved it. Vera Ellen must've been a big time dancer. She had very muscular legs. And the singing was very good too for everyone.

It looked great on a big screen TV. The widescreen thing was just right to fill out the TV, no black bars at the top and bottom.

P.S. So George Chakiris was in the movie. From "West Side Story." I recognized him in one place and was thinking it had to be him.

Money Falling From The Sky

My brother and I used to tear the leaves off a big tree/shrub thing that bordered our lawn and pretend they were money. I don't know if we killed the thing by tearing off so many leaves, but we were very rich for a while.

There's money everywhere, if you're ready to take it. Such as being a snow removal guy. It's a cloudy, terribly overcast day, with lots of snow forecast. The snow removal guy is probably at home oiling his machines. Rubbing his hands together with glee. Because those clouds are his piggy bank. It's going to be his Christmas bonus falling from the sky. Like hitting the jackpot on a slot machine.

For the rest of us, it's a thing of dread. There are times when I love extremes in the weather and even lots of snow. But usually it's UCK! I don't want to see it. For the rest of us, we might get stuck and need to be pulled out. There's money in it for that guy too. Or a hundred different things. I heard it was going to snow a bunch so I went and bought a bunch of groceries. So it's money for the grocery store too.

You want to be ready ... in case you have to stay in the house for a month. But of course you never do, because they have it plowed out way before that.

It'd be weird to be one of those guys, a hermit, out in a cabin in the woods, and have 20 inches of snow. There you'd sit, your cabin surrounded by drifts, your food cooking in a big stew pot, with your feet propped up on a hassock, reading a book. Big wool socks. Nowhere to go. Just sit there with some stew, and maybe a piece of homemade moose jerky for a snack.

When Teen Stars Marry -- Sorry Girls!

I heard that one of the Jonas Brothers got married, Kevin. I don't really know the Jonas Brothers' names all that well, but I know there's one named Nick. Maybe Joe. Is there a Joe?

It was definitely Kevin who got married. I saw it this morning and just looked it up on the internet to remind myself what his name was.

So, sorry girls. Kevin is now taken. Although, maybe it will be like it is with other big stars, he'll be available again one of these days. Maybe not. Maybe he'll love his wife and she'll love him and they'll be able to settle down as an old couple.

I'm old, so I remember some of the stories back in olden days when teen stars got married. I'm actually old enough to remember the Beatles on Ed Sullivan the first time. The first time I ever heard the Beatles' names, it was announced that one of them was married. There was Paul, George, and Ringo. Then when they identified John, with his name on the screen, it said, "Sorry girls, he's married."

That's the first time I ever heard of John Lennon. And the first thing I learned about him was he was married! So it might've been trauma to the girls who knew him before that. Out of circulation. Paul was the last of the Beatles to get married, so Everygirl had a shot at him for quite a while.

The Monkees -- it seems like Davy kept it a secret that he was married for a couple years. I'm pretty sure they have all been married and divorced, and maybe more than once. I remember hearing at the height of their popularity that Peter had been married before he became part of the group. And while the group was going, Mike was the only one married. Sorry girls!

I'm not a girl, so I never considered myself in the market for one of these fab performers. And really, I wouldn't want to be married to them anyway. They're too much on the go, at least they were. And you barely expect it to last. If some fabulous Hollywood actress wanted to marry me -- and I am quite a catch -- I'd have to say no. I don't like that whole scene. Unless it's true love, and I doubt it would be.

Elvis -- he didn't get married for quite a while. He hit big fame in '56 and wasn't married till '67 or '68, in there somewhere.

There's Something About Random Christmas Music

At my neighborhood Christmas party I had a CD of random Christmas MP3s from some years ago. I wasn't too sure who the artists were, but it sure sounded great.

In fact, I'm listening to it now. In working with the MP3 tags since the party, I notice some of the artists include 101 Strings and Andre Kostelanetz and Fred Waring and the Pennsylvanians and some just called Various. There's some really nice things there, seemingly made better by having no idea who they are.

When I have a CD by a particular artist, I'm thinking of its quality in terms of that person or group. And you can picture the particular artist in your mind's eye. But when it's Whoever and the Whatever Orchestra, it seems that it's just pure pleasure, no prior conceptions lurking about.

Maybe I need more random music in my life. I've always been so selective, but maybe the real joy is just letting it be unknown. Or fairly so.

The party went great. Everyone had some treats, some coffee, cider, eggnog, summer sausage, candy, Ritz crackers and cheese, etc. I had a table loaded down with goodies and kept putting out more. I ran out of summer sausage, but I think everyone basically got enough.

Then there was my random MP3s playing in the background, sounding like a million bucks.

I might carry that through to the rest of the year. Find some random rock, random country, and random everything!

My Paw Is Cold

This poor cat probably gives a different message in the summer, such as, "I'm just licking my hand as a part of the normal grooming process that I and my fellow felines engage in."

But in the winter, the message has to be, "My paw is cold, my pads are feeling the extra discomfort that goes with the chilly temperatures out here, especially as I'm sitting in a land surrounded by nothing but snow."

My cats tend to be verbose.

My Big Christmas Party

I'm cleaning up the house, getting ready to host a (modest) Christmas party for some of the neighbors.

We try to stir up the sense of love and brotherhood in the neighborhood on this one special day.

Then the rest of the year, everyone can fend for themselves.

We're going to have cheese and crackers and all the fixin's. Maybe some candy, if I can find some on sale.

I figure I'll pop a Christmas CD in the CD player, lift an eggnog for a toast to a great day, and let it go at that.

Too bad I can't arrange for a few live animals to be tied out in the yard, besides the dog.

Nothing says Christmas like a cow, a donkey, an ox, or a sheep.

All of nature learned the true meaning of Christmas when they were all gathered at the manger.

I ought to look into starting my own menagerie, then rent out my animals when Christmas rolls around, all through December.

Except I'd have to feed and water and tend to their veterinarian needs all through the year.

I can imagine if you had a group of animals, they'd get used to what they were there for, and would perk up when November came.

Then by the time December rolled around, they would be just itching to stand by the little manger that I would also have had built for it.

I'd come around with a sugar cube for whichever animals like sugar cubes, and the other assorted rewards that are valuable to animals.

Good boy, Babe the ox. Good show, Clompers the horse. Way to low, Bossie the cow. How reverential, Peewee the sheep.

But until then, I'll have to check the phone book, and see if there are any Rent-a-Menageries that might come around and bless the guests.

Smashing Pumpkins -- Siamese Dream

Here's my first Amazon.com recommendation. Jeff Bezos and I finally worked out a contract. We were up all night.

We were deadlocked until five in the morning. Then he suggested we break the stalemate by arm-wrestling for it. Which I foolishly accepted. Because a combination of a couple of different factors came into play. One, I bumped my arm on a door the other day, hit it in the dark. And, two, I'd been lifting cups of coffee during our negotiations all the way from 6 p.m. to 5 a.m., and my arm was tired.

We locked hands and Jeff had me down in about 15 minutes. So now I'm an Amazon.com affiliate -- a partner, I should say -- like it or not.

OK, there it is ... go ahead and buy a download of "Siamese Dream" by Smashing Pumpkins.

You know, that's quite a name for a group. A guy I know brought me over this year 10 pumpkins. I had them setting out on my step, hoping no kids would come along and smash them, and no one did. Then I found an orange out in the yard -- must have fallen out of a kid's lunchbox -- and I set the orange in among the pumpkins. It was like integration, except of course it was orange like the pumpkins. But it was smaller, like the runt of the litter.

Funny though, kids pass by here everyday, and no one stopped to smash one. And no one stole the orange.

And here's something equally funny. The squirrels only chewed a tiny piece of one of the pumpkins. That was it. But then after Fall, I threw the pumpkins over on the east side of the house, and the squirrels went crazy on them, chewing them down to the rind. Plus others disappeared whole! Like they took them up their tree, I don't know. Or maybe kids took them, but I doubt it.

Anyway, about this album -- the download by Smashing Pumpkins -- what do I know about it? Why am I recommending it? I've never actually heard it, except for about 30 seconds of the opening track. Do I have it myself? Yes, I do. I got it -- true story -- yesterday at Goodwill for a buck. Along with another Smashing Pumpkins CD, "MACHINA/The Machines of God." These to go along with my collection, including whatever that double set is called, "Melon Collie" and "Adore." So I have four CDs by them. I keep thinking I'm going to like them, but I haven't given them enough of a chance. It sounds a little more BAM-BAM than I like. But honestly I need to listen some more.

I looked up this particular album, "Siamese Dream," at All Music and it's reportedly a classic, a Five Star album. So you can't go wrong there! I definitely will listen to it. Most things that I end up liking I didn't like the first time through.

More On The Potential Grandma Slump-Amazon.com Partnership

I have an interesting business proposition on the table and I'm seriously considering it. We're in negotiations, let's say.

It came to my attention some time ago -- I believe it was this morning -- that Amazon.com is seeking a partnership with my blog.

Since then I've been weighing the pros and cons. I made two columns on a notepad and am weighing the good and bad points.

On the good side, of course both Amazon.com and I will make a ton of money, they from my traffic, I from the handsome commissions.

One day I had 13 visitors, and if I'm not mistaken (and I have no way of knowing), none of them was a repeat visitor.

On the bad side, among the cons, what assurances do I have that Amazon.com sells quality merchandise?

Maybe their books are cheap paperback knockoffs. Maybe their CDs are sound-alikes and not the original artists.

I need some assurances of quality, some kind of report on the standards they maintain, if any.

Other than those stumbling blocks, it just might happen. Like I said, we've had some hard-nosed negotiations, Jeff Bezos and myself.

He started out at a guaranteed 5% commission, I insisted on 20%, and we're working toward the middle.

I don't want to be a bloodsucker. On the other hand I don't think he should be either. Each one of us is going to have to give something.

Then when we meet in the middle -- let's say it actually happens -- it'll be of mutual benefit to both sides, Amazon.com and my blog.

But I have to say, if they come at me, their team of lawyers, with a bunch of papers with very fine print, I'm going to read every word.

Then I'll sign, if it happens, and only then. I've had this blog going for close to two years and I don't want to sink it with carelessness.

So stay tuned. Could this be the beginning of something big? An empire, perhaps? The marriage of Amazon.com and the Grandma Slump blog!

Two great powers, titans, coming together as one unstoppable force. The mega-bookstore of all time PLUS the mega-blog of all time. As one!