Tuesday, September 17, 2019
Apparently the ledge outside my new office is quite the gathering place for pigeons and occasionally sea gulls. It is on the fourth floor of my building. My other office was on the 8th floor of another building and only attracted a sea gull on rare occasions.
I'm thinking pigeons are afraid of heights.
There are now four pigeons on the window ledge....wait...five. Two are staring at me rather balefully. The other three appear to be sleeping.
Two flew away.
This is dramatic stuff. I'm thinking of setting up a web cam and streaming it live. I'll call it For the birds. Apparently that phrase comes from the 1940s and was originally "That's shit for the birds" referring to birds pecking on horse manure for seeds.
I think calling the web cam "Shit for the birds" might not be a good marketing move. Come to think of it, probably not a big demand anyway for a web cam of pigeons on my window ledge. There are three of them now, BTW. I'm thinking they are hanging out because of the rain. It's hard to tell with pigeons. They always look a bit confused.
I suppose I'd be a bit confused if my eyes were on the side of my head. What is that all about anyway? What genius genetic designer thought it would be a good idea to put birds eyes on the side of their heads? They can't have any depth perception. I'm surprised they aren't flying into shit all the time.
Then it would really be shit for the birds.
Posted by Time at 10:10 AM
Monday, September 16, 2019
I took my son to see It Chapter 2 over the weekend. I had relented and let him stream the first chapter last year around this time. So when they released chapter 2 I agreed to take him to the theater and see it.
Okay, Pennywise the Clown (played by Swedish actor Bill Skarsgård) is as creepy as hell. But then again, I think all clowns are as creepy as hell. And It and It Chapter 2 are 100 times better than the 1990s mini-series . And they are a munch better adaptation of the book by Stephen King (who has a cameo in It Chapter 2...and let me say age has not made the man better looking).
I think I liked It better than It 2. Both are creepy, but chapter 2 seemed to rehash the same old storyline, just 27 years later. And as with the novel, chapter 2 doesn't really do a good job of explaining who or what Pennywise is or where he came from in a way a normal person can really comprehend.
My biggest complaint about It Chapter 2 was how long it was (It was ten minutes shy of three hours long). Fortunately I was in a movie theater with recliner seats drinking a $5 bottle of water (don't get me started on concession prices). I wouldn't say the movie was slow. It made me jump several times and I'm not easily spooked.
I have to say, although the adult cast was good, I don't think they were as likeable as the young cast of the It one. The first movie had a kind of Stand by me nostalgic quality to it. Not that you can really feel nostalgic about fighting an ongoing battle with a killer clown who chewed off your little brother's arm. But you kind of got a sense that the kids in It one had created a bond of friendship that most of us long for but never really have. It Chapter 2 reveals that none of them stayed in touch for 27 years.
Though I think that is closer to reality than people being friends for life with their friends from grade school. Hell, most of my friends from grade school are dead.
Anyway, It Chapter 2 is entertaining, especially if you are a Stephan King fan.
My son liked It, too.
I do crack myself up.
Posted by Time at 9:25 AM
Friday, September 13, 2019
Of course, he carried it a bit too far. He thought that every windmill was a giant. That's insane. But, thinking that they might be... Well, all the best minds used to think the world was flat. But, what if it isn't? It might be round. And bread mold might be medicine. If we never looked at things and thought of what they might be, why, we'd all still be out there in the tall grass with the apes.
--Justin Playfair (George C. Scott) in the movie They Might be GiantsI have been fascinated with Don Quixote for years. I had the above poster (sans my head) in my dorm room in college. And this isn't the first post I've written about him. I think the first was back in 2006 called Windmills or giants.
It was the movie They Might be Giants, that peaked my interest in Don Quixote. It is a 1971 film starring George C. Scott and Joanne Woodward. Scott plays a mentally ill man who thinks he is Sherlock Holmes. Woodward plays a psychiatrist named Watson. The best part of film is the above quote by the main character explaining to a certain extent why he believed he was Holmes and was trying to find Moriarty, his arch nemesis. He chased Moriarty for the same reason Don Quixote fought with windmills, because they might be giants.
It is concept that has inspired me for years. We shouldn't stop doing what we believe in just because other think it is pointless.
I think it is why I have been blogging for 14 years.
Posted by Time at 2:06 PM
Wednesday, September 11, 2019
Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Within the sound of silence
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence
--The Sound of Silence, Paul SimonIt is fall once again in Seattle. And the gray returns. Soon it will be dark in the morning when I go to work and dark when I come home.
Not sure how I ended up in such a place. I thought Boise was depressing. Well, it was depressing. But it was more about the people and politics than the weather. Though it would get oppressively hot in the summer and cold in the winter. But I don't recall the rain.
Seattle has the rain. And the clouds. And I've begun to think the people aren't all that great either. Maybe it is cursed by the native Americans or indigenous people who it belonged to until the white people moved in. Or maybe it has always been depressing.
Not that I'm a "walk into the light" kind of person. I've moved into a corner office at work and it has been hard for me to get used to having so much light. I pretty much keep the shades drawn. When I was a teenager, my room was in the basement. There was pretty much no light.
Posted by Time at 10:24 AM
Tuesday, September 10, 2019
Strange fascinations fascinate me
Ah, changes are takin'
The pace I'm goin' through
Turn and face the strange
Ooh, look out you rock 'n' rollers
Turn and face the strange
Pretty soon now you're gonna get older
Time may change me
But I can't trace time
I said that time may change me
But I can't trace time
--Changes, David BowieI attended a memorial service over the weekend for the husband of a friend of mine. He was in his early 80s and passed on at an assisted living home. It was a nice celebration of the man's life with many of his life long friends telling stories, mainly from their youth.
I didn't know many of the people who attended the memorial. The ones I did were primarily people I'd worked with years ago who had long since retired. And although I wasn't the youngest person there, I was one of they younger of the older people.
What struck me about the people I did know was how much they had aged since I last saw them. It's like that when you only have occasional contact with people. You don't get to see them gradual age. It just seems to happen over night.
I can imagine they felt the same way about me.
Aging is something you don't think about until it is rudely thrust upon you. There were so many years that I honestly never thought I would get old. It would help if you never looked into a mirror or looked at photos of yourself. You could stave off old age much longer. Oh, you would start to notice aches and pains and how long it takes you to stand up. But still, inside you don't feel old (as long as your mind stays clear).
Which brings me to Bowie's song Changes. He wrote and recorded the song when he was 24 years old. And it has been conjectured that Bowie was writing about the changes artists go through as they reinvent themselves. It has also been suggested in a Rolling Stone article at the time, that it could be "construed as a young man's attempt to reckon how he'll react when it's his time to be on the maligned side of the generation schism."
I think in plain speak, it could be said that Bowie was having a premonition of what it would be like to be old and being blamed by all of the young people for everything that is wrong in the world. Sadly and ironically, Bowie only lived to be 69, which from an old person's perspective on things, isn't very old. But as an artist, Bowie certainly did go through a multitude of changes.
Now I'm not an artist, but I have gone through a multitude of changes in my own life.And so has the world and my little slice of it. I thought about that this morning as I walked from the train to my office and passed what for years had been a Tully's Coffee Shop. That company went belly up in September of 2018. The shop, which I'd frequented for almost 20 years has been boarded up. Though I hear rumors a pastry shop is opening in its place.
It is the other annoying curse of getting old to constantly point out to less than enthusiastic listeners what used to be. So in that sense, time may change me, but maybe I can trace time.
Posted by Time at 2:44 PM
Monday, September 09, 2019
Okay, it's no Picasso self-portrait. Well, actually it began as a Picasso self-portrait. I just turned it into my own self-portrait because I love messing with Photoshop. And it does capture the essence of me. Or at least my nose. I think I have a pretty big nose.
Apparently Picasso had a pretty big nose, too. But then again, after a certain age, pretty much everyone's nose becomes more prominent as the rest of them shrinks.
Just something for you Millennial readers to look forward to.
I have to say, though, I have begun to question why some artists become famous and others languish. I'm starting to think it is the luck of the draw (no pun intended). Because I think Picasso was just messing with people with many of his paintings and drawings. But at least he was a commercial success. He was even touted as one of the most influential artists of the 20th Century.
Ehhh...I'm not seeing it. I'm more of a Vincent Van Gogh kind of guy myself. Ironic, that he died before his work became famous. Maybe that's why I like him. He didn't have Picasso's ego. And Picasso didn't have Van Gogh's ear.
Ha, ha, ha.
Posted by Time at 10:18 AM
Friday, September 06, 2019
I am of an age that I remember the magazine Famous Monsters of Filmland as a pulp publication that ran stories about monsters and monster makeup from old horror movies. Much to my surprise, I Googled the magazine and discovered it began in 1958 (the same year I was born) and is still being published. So apparently I have a lot in common with the magazine.
Not that I am a famous monster. I've worked with famous monsters, though (on ad shoots).
Posted by Time at 9:06 AM
Wednesday, September 04, 2019
Despite all of my whining about being increasingly more invisible as I age, I have always been a person who didn't really like to draw attention to myself. I guess that is hard to believe when you see me Photoshop my face on just about everything.
But that is my virtual self. In the real world I like flying under the radar.
Sometimes, however, I am forced into making ripples, if not waves. Case in point, Frontier Cable. A little over a year ago, I contacted Frontier, the company that provides my television, Internet and telephone services, trying to determine why my bill kept increasing although I wasn't getting anything new. After literally hours on their customer service chat line, I came away with faster Internet and a monthly bill that was still close to $300 a month.
Last week I finally decided that enough was enough. We have enough streaming services that we use that we don't need cable. So I contacted Frontier again. This time I used the telephone (the chat feature wasn't available...apparently because it is too easy to keep a written record). The first person I reached was a young woman named Amber. I asked her what my bill would be if I cancelled cable and just had phone and Internet. She seemed a bit confused, but told me it would go from $294 to $88 plus tax. I said, "Okay, I want to cancel my cable."
Amber of course couldn't do that. She needed to transfer me to Robin who apparently had that super power. When I talked to Robin, she informed me that cancelling my cable would increase the cost of my telephone and Internet because I wouldn't have the discount of a triple play plan. I told her Amber had quoted me $88. Robin laughed. She suggested I just reduce cable to basic programming (something I had asked for a year ago). Then the prices would be $124 plus tax. If I cancelled cable and kept telephone and Internet, the price would be $144 plus tax.
I said okay, then give me basic cable. After about ten minutes of typing and apologizing for a slow computer (I assume they have Frontier Internet), Robin gave me a confirmation number and said I'd receive an e-mail confirmation as well.
Posted by Time at 9:34 AM
Tuesday, September 03, 2019
I've always believed in allowing comments on my blog. At one time the back and forth of the comments was usually more interesting than the original post. I didn't even use Blogger's moderation function for a long time. Then I had a run in with an online stalker/bully/psycho and started moderating the comments.
The way moderation works is that someone leaves a comment, but it isn't posted until the blog owner (me) approves it. This has eliminated a great deal of spam over the years. But recently I hadn't been receiving any notifications of comments on my blog. I just assumed it was because...well...no one was commenting. Then someone mentioned they had tried to leave a comment on my blog and it wasn't showing up.
I checked my account and sure enough, there were a slew of comments waiting to be moderated, many several months old. Now granted, many were spam. But there were some real ones (sorry Baggy, several were from you).
And there were many odd ones, especially on a post from back in 2005 called Elvis drove a truck. There were about 20 or so new anonymous comments from August that seemed as though some class in blogging had been assigned to go to the post and comment (not necessarily read it). They were largely generic with platitudes like:
This is really interesting, You are a very skilled blogger. I've joined your feed and look forward to seeking more of your fantastic post. Also, I've shared your web site in my social networks!Normally I'd suspect that some URL for Russian porn was embedded in the comment, but there doesn't seem to be any. Though only one of the anonymous posts even mentioned the content of the post:
I believe everything published was very reasonable.But, what about this? suppose you were to write a awesome post title?I am not suggesting your content isn't solid., however what if you added a title that makes people desire more?
I mean "Elvis drove a truck" is a little plain. You should look at Yahoo's front page and see how they create article titles to grab people interested. You might add a video or a pic or two to grab people excited about everything've got to say.Just my opinion, it could bring your website a little bit more interesting.My writing has many faults, but writing plain headlines is not one of them. And advising me to add a "pic or two" to get people excited leads me to believe this person (?) didn't look at the blog either. I rarely post without some image.
If these are spam bots leaving these comments, I also wish they'd learn spelling and grammar. Spam me with complete sentences and I might take you a bit more seriously.
Oh well, at least I know the comment section still works.
Posted by Time at 9:43 AM
Saturday, August 31, 2019
The term Milky Way is a translation of the Latin via lactea, from the Greek γαλαξίας κύκλος (galaxías kýklos, "milky circle"). From Earth, the Milky Way appears as a band because its disk-shaped structure is viewed from within.
The Milky Way bar is a chocolate-covered confectionery bar manufactured and distributed by the Mars confectionery company. Introduced in 1923, the Milky Way bar's American version is made of nougat topped with caramel and covered with milk chocolate, similar to the Mars bar sold outside of the U.S.I don't know about you, but I find it ironic that the Milky Way bar is manufactured by the Mars Company, especially because if you eat too many Milky Way bars you won't have a heavenly body.
I was never really a fan of Milky Way bars though. I'm just not into nougat. Because what the heck is nougat anyway. Okay, it's sugar, egg whites with an occasional nut thrown into the mix. And it doesn't really have anything to to with Milky Way, the galaxy.
I have always been fond of the Milky Way the galaxy. Because pretty much every star you see without a super telescope is part of the Milky Way. And our star, the sun, is part of the Milky Way. So the Milky Way is basically where we live. The nearest other galaxy, the Andromeda galaxy is 2.5 million light years away.
That's far out...literally. Makes sending a person to the moon seem like a stroll around the block.
I've mentioned one too many times laying on my back on a camping trip staring up at the stars and marveling at the shear number of them. Is it little wonder mankind dreams of a heaven that is in the stars and a hell that is here on earth (or below it...though you already know I think black holes are where hell is at).
But not once when I was a kid laying on my back staring up at the Milky Way did I think about the candy bar. Or at least not about that candy bar.
Friday, August 30, 2019
A black hole is a region of spacetime exhibiting gravitational acceleration so strong that nothing—no particles or even electromagnetic radiation such as light—can escape from it. The theory of general relativity predicts that a sufficiently compact mass can deform spacetime to form a black hole.So maybe black holes are hell. After all, nothing, including light can escape from them. But then again, I sometimes think my blog is a black hole. I keep posting and nothing seems to escape from it into the universe.
I did Google "black hole" before writing this post, but all I discovered is that no one seems to be able to simplify the description of a black hole enough for me to understand it and in turn post about it in my typical cynical and sarcastic manner. Thus the Wikipedia definition.
I was impressed by the types of questions that pop up on Google about black holes, like: "Can a black hole kill you?" Now, my response to such a question would be something along the lines of, "If you are hanging around in a seedy bar in a sketchy neighborhood and a black hole wanders in, I'd suggest looking at your watch, muttering something about being late and hightailing it out of there." The short answer actually is, "yes, a black hole can kill you." Apparently your body would be pulled apart as you got near the black hole. The process even has a name, spaghettification (which makes you wonder what spaghettification and meat balls looks like).
But don't we have enough real things in the world that can kill you on a daily basis to worry about a black hole knocking on our door and turning us into cosmic spaghetti? The nearest black hole is apparently 3000 or so light years away from us anyway, so I imagine I'll be long gone before the remote possibility of a black hole sucks the life out of earth.
Apparently black holes are the result of a dying star. When all of the energy in the star that was pushing outward burns out, all that is left is the heart of the star. And apparently that heart is so dense that its gravity sucks everything around it in with such force that even light can't escape. I've known people like that in my life.
Why should you or I care about black holes, you may ask? I haven't a clue. And as far as I'm concerned, black holes suck.
Posted by Time at 9:01 AM
Thursday, August 29, 2019
neb·u·la : ASTRONOMY a cloud of gas and dust in outer space, visible in the night sky either as an indistinct bright patch or as a dark silhouette against other luminous matter.
I close my eyes, only for a moment, and the moment's gone
All my dreams pass before my eyes, a curiosity
Dust in the wind
All they are is dust in the wind
--Dust in the wind, Kansas
Sometimes a cigar is just a cigarUnlike most of my blog posts, this one began with me messing around in Photoshop and creating an image of me staring into a nebula that looks quite a bit like a giant eyeball. I had no motivation to do this other than my love of Photoshop and its filters. I liked the image so much that I had to post it and now I need to come up with some text that somehow gives it some cosmic meaning.
--Sigmund Freud (perhaps)
But if the image is art, I shouldn't have to explain it. Because one thing I've learned from artists over the years is that sometimes they don't have a clue as to what their work is supposed to mean. They rarely admit it, however.
Does everything have to mean something, though? Is there really any cosmic significance behind the Mona Lisa's smile? Even Starry, Starry Night was likely just a schizophreniac's view of a night sky.
Not that I don't fall into the trap of trying to find meaning in things. Though I hate platitudes like, "Everything happens for a reason." Does it really? Maybe Popeye's sold out of its new chicken sandwich because of the hype not because they are miraculously good sandwiches.
I will likely never no. I have never tried a Krispy Kreme doughnut, either. Being in marketing has taught me not to get too caught up in persuasive messaging.
Though I do think it is human nature to try and find meaning in things, particularly their own lives. It is easy, however, to get too caught up in that tail chasing exercise. Perhaps this is why the super computer in Douglas Adam's Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy answered the question, "What is the meaning of life?" with "42." When questioned further about the answer it responded that people were just not asking the right question.
I can't answer for Douglas Adam's as to where the number 42 came from as the meaning of life. But I do find it interesting that both Elvis and his mother died at aged 42. Jackie Robinson's jersey number was 42. In Egyptian mythology, there are 42 questions asked of a person making their journey through death. The Gutenberg Bible is also known as the "42-line Bible", as the book contained 42 lines per page. There are 42 gallons in a barrel of oil. The Orion Nebula is also known as Messier object M42,
If that doesn't have some cosmic significance, I don't know what does.