Thursday, August 31, 2017

Annoyed

I hate to be sick...

I haven't been "sick-sick" in quite awhile.

Whatever this is hit me yesterday with body aches and I'm sweaty...just not any fun.

It's also terribly hot-I hve one air conditioned room and the fan picked today to give up the ghost-aaarrrgggghhhhh!

So I will feel better eventually I guess-not bad enough to go to a doctor but too bad to do anything that requires effort of any kind.

I have been painting but thats out-too much effort.

I don't feel like watching TV or anything that is noisy...

<sigh>

I just want to whine and be miserable.

But I have no audience for that kind of drama.

I took a shower and washed my hair-that always makes me feel a little better.

Did I mention its very HOT???

I don't know why California has to be hell frying hot in September?

It used to cool off at the end of August and by the first day of school it was either CRISP or RAINY=not hot.

The weather has changed a lot.

The thing I loved about FALL (lol) in California we would get these peachy grey afternoons-sort of misty and magical-and you knew it was no longer summer it was now the next thing-the liquid amber trees change colours and some other lose their leaves.

I have seen actual FALL back east and even in the Rocky Mountains=its colourful.

One year we timed everything perfectly so we hit FALL colours in New Jersey, chased them through upstate New York and Massachusets and got the finale heading home through Tennessee.

Spectacular.

That was the year I discovered Foliage fees.

I booked a hotel at a reasonable rate and when we got there they honored the reasonable rate BUT informed me there was an 85.00usd "FOLIAGE FEE".

I refused-it was a TUESDAY night in no where in particular New York-when I actually started to walk out the foliage fee was removed.

Its like resort fees-I dont get it...just tell me what the room costs and stop adding on your idiotic "tourist trap" charges.

A hundred dollar Hotel room suddenly climbs to 300 a night by the time they add local taxes, bed taxes, resort fees and whatever other nonsense they come up with.

I need chocolate mint ice cream.

That makes me feel better when I'm sick but I would have to go out and get it and its too hot and too much trouble-so I ill just have to rough it.

<sigh>

Ok I need to rest now-you have a good day-Its Labor Day weekend in the USA---I'm staying home so I will feel better.

I wish it was cooler and I was less sick.

I hate to be sick...

Sunday, August 27, 2017

Painting

I haven't painted in awhile-not at all actually since I was giving the art classes...it's so hard to switch over...

Takes a lot to set up a painting area and get all the stuff together that I need...

Meanwhile I am listening to CNN on the TV-they are in ecstasy between the Hurricane and what Donald Trump did today...

It was questionable timing for DT to do his twitter stuff and pull off a late Friday news drop with the hurricane looming...

As it seems that the digi stamp world is dying and the over produced colouring book is also becoming ho-hum, I have to scramble and find a new way (or revert to an old way) of augmenting my very meager income.

It's my fault I didn't plan properly for retirement-I fully believed that I would still be in my home in Burbank at this point and working at Disneyland or other jobs I looked at proved not to be great for me with my Rheumatoid Disease and Asthma.

So painting in some form seems like a good notion-I just have to get good at it....again.

Switching from drawing to painting, for me, is like switching from roller skates to Ice skates-they are similar but different enough that the change throws you...

Back when I was earning a living as a decorative painter I could A.) see better, B.) had better hand eye control and C.) had a better work space.

I could do amazing things with liner brushes and carefully placed transparent floats all things I learned and/or developed from Stage work.



I believe Trompe l'oeil technique evolved from sets of the 17th century (?)-I was getting very good at it when I stopped being a decorative painter-but that story is too tragic:

I was working too much 12 or 14 hours a day pretty much 7 days a week to get enough stock to go off and do a show tour on the east coast.

Richard, my partner at the time and I had evolved a pretty good and lucrative schedule of shows-we usually did a 3 to 5 show tour in the East (New Jersey. New York area) in the spring.

The Orange County Fair took the month of July.

Another 3 or 4 show tour east in the Fall and then the Las Vegas Christmas Gift Show in December.

In between the big shows we would do local shows in the L A/ Orange County Area as time permitted and when we needed more money,

I would teach here and there (art classes) either at shops or NSDP chapters Or Conventions (National Society of Decorative Painters) AND I also submitted projects to the many decorative painting magazines including Better Homes and did books for DeLane Publications, Krause and Country Folk Art.


I was the "Crafts Coordinator" for CFA for 2 or 3 years and did a monthly column for them.



Those were also the years when home Craft Boutiques were very popular so I did one at the house in Spring and a big one in the Fall and also did a friends boutique out in the Valley In the Fall.

I was a busy paintin' guy.

In 1994 (I think) the Northridge Quake hit and through nobody's fault-well not quite true-a student brought her sick son to an art class and didn't mention what he had was STREP-I got sick but kept on pushing and eventually I was down with pneumonia.

Obviously I couldn't keep up the pace-my anxiety disorder was kicking in and then one day I found out that my partner had been using my down time to go prowling-caught him red handed with a stack of emails he had been exchanging with people on line.

So that writing was on the wall-I won't go into all the details but Richard was out when Larry came in and my life went on-we opened a classy gift shop in Montrose (a chic neighborhood above Glendale that services La Canada-Flintridge)-everything was moving along-Larry's father died, my Mother got very ill, 911 happened and Larry went prowling after I ended up in the hospital with life threatening pneumonia for a week.

I managed to live through one of the worst plagues of all time when AIDS burned through-I took care of my friends because I was the one who wasn't sick...

SO....2003, Because of the drop in sales due to 911 and other issues the shoppe closed, Larry went away, My Mother ended up in a nursing home (thank God my sister was director off nursing there-she was well taken care of) and there I was not completely well, having to go across the valley once or twice a day to help with my Mother and meanwhile keep the houses in Burbank going---the magazine shut down and decorative painting went out of fashion.

2006 my Mother died, because she left no living trust the best solution was to sell the house so I ended up in Seal Beach-too far from family and friends...it often too 2 or 3 hours to drive across town to Burbank to see my doctor.

Painting was the last thing I wanted to do.

Art has been my comfort and my friend for my entire life-whenever I needed it, there it was, in some form.

For those years between 2006 and about 2009 it abandoned me-doing the digital stamps and then the art classes was what brought me fully back.

That's not quite true-I did a lot of digital collage and digital art during those years so I'm not sure what I'm whining about-I had a great time and made some friends that are still around today.

I tried the past couple of days to go back to Trompe l'oeil and it looks like it was done with a whisk broom...it will take time to get it back and it's doubtful it will ever be the same but I have hopes.



My friend wants me to paint pictures-I've drawn and painted a little in the "picture" category-I actually stopped painting because my drawings sold and my painting didn't and drawing was faster anyway.



When you're doing something for a living it can't take months to complete.

Ah well-c'est la vie...I haven't had pneumonia in 14 years , that's a good thing and I have confidence in my guardian angels-they never wander too far away-I just wish they were art critics or better yet gallery owners...

Friday, August 25, 2017

An Operatic Interlude #2

I must have been predestined to be connected to Opera-when I was a little guy-maybe 7 or 8-Grandpa Elmer took us all to the Hollywood Bowl.

Robert Merrill, Jan Pierce (I think) and a beautiful Blonde lady named MARY COSTA were singing.


Afterwards we went backstage and I was introduced to Miss Costa-I guess like Liz Taylor I was charming-My Mother had coached me to ask for an autograph...and in a moment of emotion she pulled off her elbow length kid glove and signed that-she even gave me a little peck on the cheek-she smelled like a million lilacs.

She was Sleeping Beauty you know-the voice anyway-for the Disney animated feature-my mother had to remind me who she was when we went to see Sleeping Beauty at the Wardman in Whittier.

Mary Costa went on to have an international career singing all over the world including the MET and SFO Operas-she sang for John Kennedy's inaugural concert and later was asked by Jackie to sing at his memorial service.





Now here comes my magical life again:

In the 80's (?) my voice coach and accompanist, Charles Ross Perlee, called an asked if I would like to go meet Mary Costa-she was passing through town with her 2nd husband.

I don't know why Wikipedia doesn't mention his-he was a handsome high powered fellow-we met him as well.

She looked amazing, petite and fashionable and we met them in their lavish room at the HERMITAGE-the same hotel where I had picked up Liz Taylor just a few years before...

Amidst the chatter I asked her for an autograph for my friend George McLeary ( a big Disney fan) and she signed it on an envelope from the hotel-to Prince Charming from Sleeping Beauty...

Not long after this meeting her husband was walking down the street in New York where his heart literally exploded and he hit the pavement, DEAD.

She would later be designated a Disney legend.


So I coloured with Liz Taylor and she stole my Movie Star colouring book and I flirted with Mary Costa and walked away with her glove.

Liz's husband died in a plane crash shortly after meeting me and Mary Costa's husband died horribly shortly after she met me (the 2nd time-it's still pretty strange) .

I guess Grandma's curse lived on.

Mary mailed me a lovely note an a colour 8 x 10 personally signed after the visit with Chuck...where it is I have no idea.



Thursday, August 24, 2017

I'm THOR...

OK...its part of a very old joke=a little dirty and really weak-the kind that 13 year old boys find hysterically funny (ROTFLMOPMP that kind of adolescent funny).

A Bacchanalian orgy of epic proportions has taken place at Valhalla (home of the norse Gods) and all the Gods and Goddesses are strewn about completely spent and mostly unconcious.

In the misty pink and gold dewy morning Thor wakes up and looks around and seeing a young nymph awakening he says to her-"Good Morning, I'm Thor..." to which she replies," You're Thor? I'm tho thor I can hardly Pith..."

Tah Dum Dum...

A friend emailed me and said you simply MUST take a look at this new internet sensation THOR JOHNSON...just do a bing search for TRUCKER THOR JOHNSON and chose videos-its astonishing...astonishing or impressive I'm not sure which...

So I did.

Let me say that I am NOT a connoisseur of internet PORN....like almost everyone I have seen some and it only has served to reinforce my theory that if women made porn it would be more artistic, sensitive and interesting-certainly less repetitive...

I also do NOT want you to think that I am suggesting that you hop over to BING (which is my favorite search engine-if I want an image I know I can get it and many more on BING-they also are not prudish about many thousands of videos and photos of the ADULT VARIETY-sometimes while searching for CORSET as an inspiration image you may get more inspired that you had originally intended.

Mr Johnson started life in Salt Lake City, Utah-this does not necessarily mean he is a Mormon but the possibility goes up...he is a very pink, muscular, somewhat thick young man, quite bald-apparently a red head (if the curtains ever matched the rug) and quite well endowed by his maker.

Barnum would have made a great deal out of this appendage-it is not only long and thick it is veiny and uncircumcised.

Grown men envy him, women feel faint-or even vice versa if you happen to like your vice versa.

Thor Johnson drove BIG RIG diesel trucks for a living-I guess the problem was the vibrations or the gear shift, I am not at all sure-but when he drives his big rig across the interstates he is driven to MASTURBATE....while driving....he also films it with a web cam...



As far as I can tell he is quite alone and he gets solidly into the procedure-you can tell from the way his eyes roll back into his head.

Remember he is DRIVING a huge TRUCK on an actual INTERSTATE highway...the mind simply reels.

In his early videos-oh yes there are MANY now, but in the early ones he obviously was nervouse about someone seeing what he is doing-he is not at all nervous about the web cam but onlookers are another thing I suppose the police and highway patrol of Utah and other states frown on such distractions??

If you can get a sizeable citation for eating a WHOPPER while driving just imagine what this business would set you back.

He really enjoys it-in most videos he is eventually quite nude-he licks his thumbs and delicately touches his small, well formed pink nipples (must be sensitive there), sometimes he uses a long languid stroke and other times a shorter choppier one-if you've never watched a man masturbate this seems to me a video that you might want to show to a teenage boy say to help him perfect his technique?

It's a bit of genius he claims to be about 25 when he starts-I think he is older but it may be the bald head that is throwing me off-he also claims to be STR8 (straight, as in not gay) so this is supposed to be for an audience of whom?

A muscular naked well endowed man having sex with himself while driving a big rig diesel-it's like he had a gay director and art designer on the project...

There is no woman in the video to annoy the men and no men in the video to put off the ladies-genius!

At first no one knew who he was-then his name got leaked he became a "porn" star and eventually has his own website, facebook and twitter pages (I didn't know PORN STARS could have facebook pages? They won't let you show art with genitals but???).

OH he has also branched way out-he has videos with very Rubenesque ladies, LADY BOYS, Porn Star Ladies, Black Ladies and MEN....

Gay for Pay is quite fashionable these days you know-again I don't understand why the idea of supposedly str8 men making love to each other would turn anyone on? BUT, women have been doing it for YEARS and men just lap it up (so to speak) so why not THOR as well?

He continues to insist that his best and favorite sexual adventures are with women-then he inserts a 12 inch rubber phallus in his rectum and rides around on his motorcycle-its those damned vibrations again I'm sure...

Please be assured I am neither judging nor making fun of THOR JOHNSON-I think he is really an amazing young man-he manages to always look clean and polished, he has a sweet puppy dog like expression at times that evokes some need to be embraced and rocked-he has figured out a way to do what he has a passion for and make money at it and also he is now an internet celebrity...all at a young age...quite impressive.

OH, I forgot to mention that he wears a dark coloured cross on a chain around his neck in every video-so I guess he is not only STR8 but religious as well-it certainly does play to a whole other audience and adds a rich layer of---something---to his obsessive masturbatory habits on film.



He apparently now lives in Las Vegas...maybe.

So, that BING...if you didn't know about it you will be glad-its a great way to win bets about absurd things (if you know how to work a con)...

Simply work into a conversation that things have degenerated to the point that they show everything on the internet and FOR FREE- I'll bet if you got to BING and type in GIRL acts like pony in Pony Sex with man OR Guy BARKS like a dog in Dog Sex with Dominatrix it will be there-just make sure you have verified that said video is still posted-there are probably many examples of each but you don't want to be out 20 bucks or 50 quid whatever the stakes are.

THOR sadly did not protect his videos so most of what he has on his website at 20 or 30 dollars a month for a membership are available for FREE thanks to BING.

Maybe someone will tell him and he will fix it-if he has time between truck runs.



I don't know that there is a moral or a punchline or anything to this post-it does sort of come under JAW DROPPING-I thought all this time I was quite worldly and not easily impressed by such things---aside from his prodigious penis his somehow innocent, naive tenacity to make a favorite pastime into a paying proposition is inspiring (especially with the cross thrown in).



Thor Johnson a name that may NOT go down in history (he has gone down on the internet....sorry, sorry that was cheap and beneath me) but like many fine amusements he may be the E TICKET of this generation...he's young maybe he can still make a career in motion pictures like The ROCK did or Chris Pratt-there's another beefy, pink young Christian that did a lot of running around nude in his earlier smaller parts...



I need to just stop now---everything I type is sounding smarmy.

ALL photos courtesy of a BING image search...



Wednesday, August 23, 2017

Generalized Anxiety Disorder

There is nothing worse than the whole collection of feelings and symptoms surrounding anxiety.

I was hit really hard in the mid to late 90s-panic attacks, agoraphobia the whole buffet.

Like many people I was treated incorrectly, went through to many medications too quickly and finally found a doctor who could actually help me, dry me out and then carefully restart medication to make me better.

I am not cured but I am functioning at a higher level than I once was and knock wood I have not had a panic attack for quite some time.

This whole syndrome started when I was a child-I would be anxious and start to feel faint.

Sometimes I was fine and other times I would be immobilized...I never could find a pattern.



As the years went on I was less affected by the fainting spells and light headedness-it seemed like there were new things that popped up-every time I would have one symptom handled a new one would show up.

Over the years I find this is the way my body works-it throws new things at me to replace ones that no longer work on me-almost like a 2nd person living in my head sabotaging life on a daily basis.

The last 5 years or so I have been in a fairly good place with less surprises and a more constant level of stability.

I take very few meds...I have found the less medications the better.

I have tried herbal, natural, homeopathic and new age medicine, meditation, focused thinking, inner communication-pretty much everything that has come along that is supposed to help.

The best thing for me is just trying to plow through the feelings and do my best with it.

It is very important to have help and treatment-I have had plenty and doing less is the best for me-others do well with anti-anxiety or anti-depressant medications and other tools like bio-deedback-whatever works its better to be proactive and do something that to suffer and do nothing.

I also learned that it's a smart thing to "interview" physical and mental health care professionals-you are paying them they are employees-tools to help you feel better-you want people who work for and with you.

Often we who have lived with mental health issues are experts at manipulation and we find ways to get doctors and therapists who we can "manage"-that is NOT good-if you want to get better you have to recognize what attributes in a care taker, therapist, doctor are best for you and your condition.




Pushing down pills makes a whole new set of issues-what do we call people who take too many pills to alter their feelings? Drug Addicts.

You need what medication it takes to make you functional-you're not supposed to be sleepy and half stoned or wired and bouncing off the walls-you're supposed to be at a normal level, functional and able to do the things you want and need to do.

Also take charge of your treatment-be very aware of side effects of any meds you take. Take your meds as you are instructed-no more no less.

We, as a population, are very bad at following prescriptions-we take anti-biotics till we feel better instead of taking them as directed and many of us have the mentality that if one pill makes us feel better than 2 or 3 should solve the problems...not so, but we are good at telling ourselves lies that become our truths.

You also cannot give up and just suffer-we find all sorts of excuses to NOT get treatment or we think we can manage alone...we don't like a doctor so we don't go back, our insurance isn't good so we convince ourselves we can't afford treatment...

There are programs, social services and private organizations that can and will help you-it isn't easy and it's often frustrating but eventually you will get what you need and you will be more functional and feel better.

Also do look at natural medications or remedies-some of them work they just take longer and most require simple things available in local shoppes-I know many people who swear by St. Johns Wort-it didn't do anything for me but Vitamin D3 in larger doses does, Calcium and Magnesium may help-read up on the subject and then try a reasonable program to see if you can help yourself.

Just the actions of researching and following through with a program of natural remedies will divert your attention from your problems and help you feel more focused and as if you are accomplishing positive things.

Again this is NOT a replacement for a professional opinion-there are NATUROPATHS in the world but I don't know of any insurance that covers their services (in any country).

With suicide rates on the rise, a world of stress and angst around us, financial woes etc...its easy to become overwhelmed...if you can't face it alone find a friend, a relative, a social worker-anyone who will work positively on your behalf and support you-be cautious of people who say it's all in your head or you just need to pull yourself together--- that decision should be between YOU and a professional-friends are for support, professionals are for treatment.

Finally-don't take pills given to you by a friend just to see if they work...unless you like a trip to the emergency room or psych-ward.

You will feel better-don't procrastinate, start working on a treatment plan today...I am doing much better and so will you if you do the right things to help yourself-don't use Facebook or Twitter as group therapy-there are far more sick folks on there that need help more that you do.



GOD helps those who help themselves.


Friday, August 18, 2017

Strange things

It's funny about "blogging" daily...sometimes I just pour out content and other times its like Karo Syrup in January (as my grandmother used to say).

I'm not quite sure yet how much I want to share or even mention and what just stays proprietary info...TMI is TMI...

I was thinking about connections-which I find fascinating-does anyone but me remember that TV show where they would connect disparate things via complicated means?

I like puzzles so I guess that's why...

We are, today, in a tenuous world-we got here by anger and hate and seething turmoil that was going unaddressed...I don't think anyone was aware just how angry the population was...

It seems to me the elections and how that played out should be telling people something very loud and clear but so many are missing the point...and the way news and opinions at disseminated in the world make it even more cloudy and hard to understand exactly what is going on.

There was just this event-I don't know what to call it, between what seems to be White supremacists, Neo-Nazis, separationists and other groups that range along an arc of ideologies-the disagreement seems to be who was RIGHT and who was not...that sort of distillation of an event into black and white is impossible, futile and frustrating...depending on your point of view almost everyone was right or wrong to some extent.

We are long past the shiny, whitewashed days of the white hats vs the black hats-symbology  is much more diffuse today and we are in the age of the anti-hero-who would have ever thought of Batman as a vigilante or SUPERMAN as anything less than an American hero? Truth, Justice and the American way...

Not so simple and easy anymore-someone always wants to debate...every issue.

I have an odd stance on a recent point of polarization-GAY MARRIAGE.

One would think that I would be for it and I am but here's where the fog rolls in:

I think MARRIAGE-the institution-should be the purview of the Church, religious organizations in general and CIVIL UNIONS should be available to everyone - as a matter of fact if you want to be legally joined ONLY a civil union should carry any weight with the government.

If you want to be married in the eyes of a church you go there after you get your license and are joined by the state-wow that sounds like the USSR doesn't it?

We have separation of CHURCH and STATE for a reason-it's important...if you don't understand why you need to look at what happens when that separation is unclear or ignored-you get a theocracy-that is where the dictates of the state religion are the law-so chopping off hands, eye gouging, beheadings and other scary stuff is normal and accepted.

Too much of what we call law in the USA is actually based in Judeo-Christian Bible laws-and we have a small but mighty minority of extreme religious zealots that would like very much to rule this country according to old testament laws.

If EVERYONE were married by the STATE then religion wouldn't have a say and NO they should NOT be forced-if private institutions paid for abortions then the government could stay out of it and the subject could be between a woman and her conscience-not the business of a bunch of old white guys in Washington.

If people paid attention to birth control there would be less unwanted pregnancies and thus less abortions; its just a matter of getting people to have self control and take responsibility.

So---if I don't believe in YOUR God that's just tough because that's THE LAW.

I'm not going to continue this particular line of mulling very long-it's boring and it makes people crazy but WHICH GOD is the correct GOD-you know there have been thousands of Gods since we became able to conceive such things...its clear that there are TWO Gods in the BIBLE and the NEW GOD was created to mollify the practices of the old one...

You might want to read Neil Gaiman's excellent books in the AMERICAN GODS series which ponders the what ifs of how Gods are born and fade and how people bring their own Gods with them when they change places.



If you have ANY doubt this is true do some research on Islam and Sharia Law-it should scare you-if it doesn't....???

The Handmaid's Tale is another cautionary book about how religion becomes just as corrupt as any political engine when it is in control-absolute power corrupts...

SOOOOOOO, Stranger things:

UFO's. Aliens, Planet X all that sort of stuff...

I had a scary online covo with a guy on YouTube----about the EARTH being FLAT...

I detest stupidity-it really annoys me...empirical research tells us that the earth is not flat-did we not prove this fact scientifically 500 or more years ago?

The part that bothers me is that KIDS are involved in this and the pundits say there are actually MILLIONS that believe in a flat Earth theory-it used to be a "thing" amongst intellectuals to debate such nonsense to make each other irritated-that's how the Flat Earth Society was born.

I went back and forth with this young man about his beliefs and finally he explained to me offline via email:



IF we live on a stupid little rock flying around at the edge of a huge galaxy nowhere in particular we are insignificant and GOD is useless but if we live on a flat earth under a dome built by God for us we must be important which makes GOD important and it makes the flat Earther feel better about everything.

So God actually sits on top of this magical glass dome-it says so that the seat of his throne...

I asked what does the great terrarium sit ON, what is underneath? If you go outside the dome what is there?-I had LOTS of questions...

Poor guy he just got angry and finally told me to F*** Off and disappeared.

They don't l9ike it when you shake the magic terrarium.

AND-how is this different from the earth sitting on the backs of three elephants who are standing on a turtle and there is a coiled serpent in the stack somewhere...



Eventually one sees that everything is a version of something that came before it-ancient stories and tales told to hel people understand natural wonders.

There is a total eclipse this week in the USA-we know there is no Dragon swallowing the sun but just in case if there is one would someone try to catch it or at least get a picture-and then when its done swallowing does it unswallow or poop it out? What?

People are more ready to believe that space aliens have crossed endless miles to hang out here than what we are seeing is military black ops stuff that was NOT reverse engineered from a captured space craft.



Planet X is way late-it has been predicted for at least a hundred years or more-it was supposed to be here virtually every month last year and a couple of times this year-its nowhere in sight, scientists keep telling people it would be disrupting everything in the solar system not just Earth but NASA lies about everything so.....???

Poor NASA---they get a terrible rap and while I have no doubt they do lie or at least twist the truth-many things they get blamed for they have no control over its the NSA or probably some alphabet soup organization much higher up.

If you don't know about the BROOKINGS INSTITUTION REPORT you need to look it up...

Basically it says "tell them nothing-they can't handle it"-I believe it was written in the 50s or 60s-very different times-I think we are actually glad they kept things from us-we are only just now finding how close we came to being tiny burned particles floating off into oblivion.

I remember the Cuban Missile Crisis-I ask you what would happen if THAT were to happen today? Seems like we have been mighty close in the past few weeks....North Korea, Putin, Iran, Syria...

Here is something I do believe: I think we, humans, are more powerful than we know-I think when we use our collective consciousness we can do amazing things---if you want to call it prayer, that's fine-however the forces are focused it seems to work except on things we don't know about-like Earthquakes hit so out of the blue-hard to stop them but we are so far overdue here in California I think the ANTI=earthquake thinkers may be doing some good.

Eventually the Yellowstone Caldera will probably erupt-check out YouTube and the number of CRAZY people that sit all day and all night watching the web cams from Yellowstone and SWEAR they can see the ground rise and fall...



I don't think we can stop a super volcano from erupting-we know it has erupted so WHY do we live in the BLAST ZONE-people do...same reason people live in California.

When we have a big quake they leave and then time passes and Disneyland continues to operate and they start coming back.

But why FRET about it 24 hours a day?

Move South-you will probably only have to worry about the hole in the ozone layer and Australians are very nice people (kiwis as well)...

I think the smarter we become the crazier we become---we FIND things to worry about even things we cannot do anything about-almost as if we NEED to worry as a distraction from other things.

Cause and effect?

I see patterns when something happens over here there is a counter thing over there and then another somethings and so on-when you slow down and look at it all there is a BIG thing and lots of little things-the BIG thing gives rise ti the other stuff and therein is yet another conspiracy theory.

They keep us agitated and frightened-"THEY"? who are They?

The very very rich people (organizations) at the top of the food chain or the various GODS we have created to worship "or blame" when things happen...I have my opinion you can have yours I am not into debating the subject.

Anyway it falls the real conspiracy theory could be MUCH worse-we could actually be living a MATRIX existence-we could be a construct in the computer of a 17 year old hormonal super being who forgot to feed the Turtle...

OR this is my dream and you all exist in it-which is not so far off from Mormonism-next time you're in a motel, READ the book...






Liz Taylor and Liz Taylor

If you've followed this blog since the beginning you may remember I said in passing that Liz Taylor and I coloured together...thats true.

My Grandma Fran was the best...and she really wasn't my Grandma-she was my step-dad's mom.

She always treated me just like I was her blood and I used to love to go and stay with her in the summer.

I would go for a couple weeks and later my sister would stay a couple weeks...

I was pretty low maintenance...Grandma always said give him a stack of paper and some colours and he's busy for the rest of the day.

Still true...

I may have mentioned that Grandma Fran taught me how to do blush on colouring books or drawings-her colouring had a distinctive 30's feel to it even though I don't know that she had nay artistic leanings---ballet I know when she was a kid and of course she was the Ukulele girl for her 2nd husbands band...I guess those are art...

She was very fussy about her hair...it was (at this juncture in her life) a dark mahogany red, never brassy always subdued and always on the short side...I can't imagine Grandma with big hair-she was too little.

I always said she was like a feisty cookie jar...short and round and full of spice...she was fascinated with life and everything about it....

When I was about 25 she called me on the phone one night "Buddy? (remember that's my nickname)  Elmer won't take me to see the Female Impersonators over there on Ventura Blvd-I want you to come get me one night and we'll go over there...I'll pay."

She had a red Volkswagon-I think 60's-when she died in 1986 it had about 5 thousand miles on it-it had always been in the garage and was very well taken care of-like Pristine condition...it was my sisters by bequest-I don't know what happened to it...

Anyway she would toodle (remember when people used to "toodle" around?) around Van Nuys in her Red Volkswagon with her red hair and red lips (usually with a cig clenched between them) and explore.

They put an Adult Book Store in a few miles from her house-she wanted to know what it was all about-so one afternoon she drove up, parked and went in with her purse on her arm.

I would have loved to have seen the faces of the men who were browsing the wares...

She said it was "interesting" but also "nothing she hadn't seen before"...no judgement...

So, she took me with her to the Parco Brothers Salon in Sherman Oaks---Italo Parco did her hair I don't remember the other brothers names- I think one was Sal, Salvatore Parco...but he didn't like Sal so he was Tito (I think Tito Puente was popular then and Tito Parco had a similar ring) there was at least one other maybe two...but I digress---they were all like central casting extras, broad Italian accents and big gestures...but not feminine...more like the waiters in old Adolphe Manjou movies...

Grandma had brought a few colouring books, some blank paper, the big box of Crayons with the sharpener built in and a rug to corral me on in an area near the dryers but out of the way "where I can keep an eye on him."

It was interesting...I was perfectly happy and I had never been in a place where ladies got their hair done...or their lip bleached or permanent waves...it was a lot of work and they all looked better when it was over but tired.

The Parco brothers provided Italian Cookies and WINE, nice for ladies a little sweet snack...keep the sugars up...

There was a commotion at the front and a lady came in with a TURBAN and BIG sunglasses-she was very TAN and had tight capri pants, a yellow top and wedgie shoes that were sorta like straw and hawaiian in a way-lots of jewelry-she had a funny loud laugh and Tito fussed over her a lot...



"who is this? You're too blonde to be a Parco Brother...are you colouring?"

And with that she plopped on the floor and asked if she could colour something-so I gave her the hollywood stars colouring book because she look kinda like some of the ladies in there I thought.

"OOOOOOHHHHH this one is FABULOUS, wait...I'll show you!"

She flipped pages and came to a lady with a short flipped hair do and a big dress with a long full skirt..."see that one is ME...!


BIG LOUD LAUGH

"Miss Taylor we are ready to start you now..."

"No, I am colouring with my new best friend so go away for awhile..."

"You can call me Elizabeth..."

And that was that, I pointed out my Grandma and told Elizabeth about how we went to the movies and to the amusement park and answered all her questions and she told me I should see her pictures from when she was a little girl and it turned out I had seen her in National Velvet on channel 5 movies...she coloured her dress and hair in the book and told me about Mickey Rooney and I told her that I had breakfast with Frankenstein and the Wolf Man and how I had seen Ida Lupino kiss her Great Danes right on the dog lips at the drive in  restaurant on Santa Monica Blvd.



"IDA needs to be more discreet"

BIG LOUD LAUGH

She was under the dryer when we left so I just got to wave good bye-but she was fun...

Her husband was killed that year and it was very sad.

My dad and Grandpa Elmer had both worked on portions of her husbands film and my Grandparents had been to the premier in Hollywood.

Fast forward 1977 :

"Kadota can you come in here" my new nickname based on Figs at a breakfast recently came over the loudspeaker-I was on VIP's at the tour.

"We need you to meet a limo out front and there will be a publicist from the lower lot-you're on their clock so you are their property-check in with Ops when you get back."

Occasionally when someone important visited the lot we would go get them at a local hotel or their "home" in Beverly Hills or Hollywood and escort them to the studio.

When I saw the limo I knew it was someone BIG since their was no LOGO on the car-it was a classy, black Rolls limo as I remember and I think it belonged to Dr. Stein who was head of MCA-he also endowed the eye clinic at UCLA-I never met him---I had met Uncle Lew (Lew Wassermann) several times-(nice man).

PUBLICIST: Oh good a mature one, have you done this before?

ME: I have, several times.

PUBLICIST: OK this one is a hand full-do what she wants, whatever she wants-so not argue with her-if she wants to fly somewhere call the studio first-this is the number...try to be back before midnight-do NOT take a tip from her!

ME: May I ask who "HER" is?

PUBLICIST: Elizabeth Taylor

ME: FABULOUS! Maybe she will give my colouring book back...

He turned pale so I gave him the short version of "we used to colour together when I was a kid"

PUBLICIST: She almost single handedly put 20th out of business try to see she doesn't do it to us.

I picked her up at a very swanky boutique hotel on San Vincente not far from Chasen's.

When she came downstairs and into the lobby I swear they had special lights for her-she literally glowed-she was also wearing THE Diamond (33 carats given to her by Burton)-she had a cashmere coat with a large lynx collar over her shoulders and a PA with another coat, an overnight bag and other "important stuff" trailing behind her.

I introduced myself and tried to be as polite and charming as possible-in my head I kept saying-she sat on the floor and coloured, you've seen her in a shampoo coat and under the dryer getting her toenails painted...

HER: I'm starving I have called Chasen's and they are doing breakfast for us-we can WALK there!

I just followed her and the PA and the "STUFF"

Lot's of welcomes and MRS. CHASEN was there-we were at a table towards the back away from the front door and any NOISE.

When we were finally all settled-she had FRESH squeezed Orange Juice with just a splash of Champagne-I had Iced Tea-she asked me NOT to have coffee please because she hated coffee breath before noon-in a very nice way.

She had LAVENDER eyes you know.

I finally had a chance to remind her of our meeting in the past when she asked if I was wanting to be in the Movie Business.

This required a huge amount of tact because you can't say "when I was a child....etc etc" or "when I was a tiny boy...etc etc" so I led in with You have no reason to remember but we have met at the PARCO Brothers hair salon in Sherman Oaks on the floor near the dryers_I was with my Grandmother..." (fairly classy I thought for an unrehearsed intro).

HER: Oh My GOD, well you were too young to have been sleeping with any of them so you must have been a child---tell me more"

And I did-remember I told you first about it- see  above...

HER: (to the PA) YOU-take this crap (she used another word) back to the hotel-leave my coat and my bag if I need anything I will call you AT the hotel-this is an old friend so we need room to visit...

and that was that!

We had the most incredible CHILI OMELETS (no onions), some lovely toast points (assorted with sweet butter) and fruit-the most amazingly good fruit cup I have ever had-my first brush with sour cherries...

We took the Limo and went to Neiman Marcus in Beverly Hills-she took my arm-she told me many stories about MGM and making Cleopatra and almost dying several times.

We went to Gump's where she bought a gift for a friend (giftwrap and send).

I realized when we sat down for LOVE FOOD SALADS in the Neiman Marcus Tea Room a few hours later (she had bought a lot of STUFF in between -all charge and send, some gift wrap charge and send) I had never seen money or a credit card change hands nor had anyone asked her any questions-it was some amazing code.

We stopped at the bottom of the escalator (main floor) for exactly 5 minutes when she almost literally bumped into a very TAN actor (George Hamilton)-she introduced me, he looked at me like I was a fungus, she verified their dinner plans for the next day, said "I'll call you or you call me, I at the Hermitage" and we were off.

We took the limo to Malibu to a friends house who I can not name because I promised I wouldn't where we sat in the living room while the sea crashed outside and looked at jewelry brought in for her inspection by a jeweler whose store we had been literally yards from not 2 hours earlier.

We snacked on cashews and kumquats-more iced tea (minty this time)...some transcendental chat and we were off again.

In the limo she considered a "quick trip" to San Francisco-I must have gone pale because we stopped back at the hotel where she changed and we went off to a very exclusive restaurant in Topanga Canyon where there were cocktails , hors d'oeuvres and eventually dinner...more Movie and TV people...a well known talk show host (when he comes over here wait 2 minutes then remind me we have to leave almost at once)...I did, we did not.

I walked her into the hotel at precisely 1 am-I had been on double time since 4:30pm...

She was charming and tired and a little tipsy she took my hand and held it for just a bit and said "Thank you for being a perfect gentlemen, a great shopping companion and not some Hollywood tight assed son of a bitch-you may kiss me on the cheek"

As she made her exit she turned (in that special light reserved just for her) - diamond sparkling alluringly in her amazing cleavage and said "Good Night Buddy" and disappeared.


I never did get to ask for my colouring book back.


Wednesday, August 16, 2017

what was that noise...

So....there I was luxuriating; warm and comfy, in that half in half out place between sleep and I don't wanna get up:

My ears perked up.

It's a strange thing when that primal part of ourselves kicks in and we suddenly are alert.

I was operating on some out of body sense-in one graceful move I picked up the 9 inch chefs knife I kept by the bed and padded silently and quite naked, into the hall and on to the living room.

It takes a second or two for the eyes to connect to the brain and understand what you are seeing.

There was a young man who had squeezed in through a sliding window now trying to figure out how to open the lock on the sliding glass door to make an easier exit for himself.



Drawing myself up to my full 6 foot two and in my best naked man monster voice I invited him to leave the premises - immediately...

For a second or two I actually felt a little sorry for the dumb sucker---he thought he was doing an easy, weekday morning BnE-a rear apartment with a convenient patio hidden from any pesky nosy neighbors and any view from the street and now there he was-trapped empty handed and weaponless between a locked slider and a BIG naked man with a loud voice and a very large KNIFE.

In a moment of sanity I retreated and grabbed a robe, returning to the living room I was just in time to see his skinny ass disappearing out the window he entered through.

I continued across the living room and dialed 911.

I would love to have a tape of that call-the woman wanted to debate the semantics of being
robbed versus burglarized however she did mobilize the police-I found pants, shirt and shoes-
and there was a knock at the door and that lovely sound of a deep voice announcing, "POLICE"...

They already had him I was told-so into the police car I went and they drove me via shadows so I couldn't be seen to the local mall where my ROBBER (I know he was actually my burglar but that's harder to say than ROBBER) was up against a patrol car wearing the most stylish bracelets...

I realized how amazingly photographic our brains are under duress-I had perfectly described his hair, pants and the crooked tooth he had in front but he had changed his shirt-I heard "he changed his shirt?" come out of my mouth.

Apparently he thought that would throw off the man hunt-the other shirt was found in the space between my apartment building and the house next door-he had been carrying a stack of jeans, neatly folded as if they had been "removed from someones drawer" (not mine, wrong size).

SO...that was that...I was returned to my home, there was a parade of various investigators and detectives, fingerprint powder everywhere-

Just inside the window he came through was a white macrame plant hanger which held a large, shiny, YELLOW pot with a lush fern.

No comments, it was the early 80's that was very chic...

Said shiny, yellow pot had a perfect hand print where he had gently pushed it aside to get in.

That evening I slept on the COUCH with the knife and a pistol provided by a neighbor...the next day every window was drilled and pegged so they wouldn't slide open without removing the peg stops...new poles in the slider door tracks...deadbolts.

How violated, creepy and vulnerable one feels after such an event can hardly be described.

We think that walls and windows and doors offer us enough protection sheathed as we are in our false sense of security...

I had to testify against the little bastard in court where his red neck father and trailer park girl friend glared at me from the audience area and hissed epithets at me as I left the courtroom-as if I had done something to them...obviously he wasn't a felon he had stopped in for a humanitarian purpose...moronic

That proceeding, of course, acerbated the anxiety which was just diminishing after about 6 weeks...there is always the chance that they will get off on a technicality...

As it happens I was Burglarized twice more at that address-by the third episode I had added an alarm-I had closed in the patio with lattice---useless, obviously in that case they had sent in a child to open the door from the inside via a break in the lattice work.

In neither of the other cases had I actually confronted the perpetrator as I had in the first event...

By the way that first burglary was not the first of my life I had been hit at least twice in the early 70's when I lived in Hollywood and I had been mugged (at knife point) a block from my apartment at twilight.

In the 90's the van we used to do art fairs and shows was literally broken into via a wind wing (remember those? don't see them much anymore) and they took the brand new sound system that had been installed to make the long trips less tedious...it was parked in front of the house in Burbank.

This morning I read a very sad, upsetting angry post on Facebook...a friend in Oklahoma was burglarized...obviously she was shaken...its a terrible. impotent feeling...you want someone to hit or slowly torture...I think we lose our civilized selves and go to that primal place where the old programmed genetics that govern "run, hide, protect, defend." still exist.

For most of us who aren't wealthy film moguls or oil barons, robbers seldom get anything of particular value...they take stuff that they think they can sell off for some money to get their next fix or whatever...I guess its stuff they snort now-meth-amphetamine...the drug du jour.

When they do get something important it is only important to us at a heart ache level and is irreplaceable ...something from a friend or treasured relative...

One of my robberies they took two hundred dollars in cash, the insult was they took the Godiva Box I kept it in...

That box was worth more to me than the Mona Lisa...it came from a friend who had passed on, it had been given for a special occasion...

A friend said to me that they couldn't steal the memories...yeah, well...I want my Godiva Box back because there was something written in the lid...it was just a paper box...it meant nothing to the drug addict who pushed it into a pocket and moved on...

That person wanted the 2 hundred bucks and the GODIVA chocolate box was a symbol of rich stuff-if I could afford Godiva I could afford to lose 2 hundred bucks...they apparently make up reasons that justify what they do.

Take the money, leave the box...

I don't care how much tough love, scared straight, well meaning ex-con therapy they hand out in prisons there will always be some smart assed punk who runs laughing through someones home, believing they are Robin Hood grabbing bits of this and that and then breaking the stuff they couldn't carry just for meanness.

They don't care that they grabbed things that were mementos of long dead friends, reletives, moments of our lives that only have meaning to
us.

For quite a few years I have had am old fashioned hat stand in my living room-it came from my friend Chuck who was my friend, vocal coach and accompanist for many years...one of the dear ones I buried in those horrible years of the plague.

On the hooks where hats should hang I display things that I love to look at as I walk by---little bits of art and junk that are treasures to me.

One was a bright yellow, hand painted tie from the 1940's...it belonged to my dad.

I was very, very sad that Dad was not buried in a yellow shirt...he loved yellow shirts-we always bought him yellow shirts for every occasion-it was a thing...my Mother in some grieving widow moment decided to bury him wearing the tie his BOSS had given him (instead of a decent salary or a bonus).

My Dad hated to wear a TIE...what he loved was a yellow shirt...

I had that yellow tie...it was so him...it was vintage, it was so me...we weren't connected by blood but we were connected by his love...

What could that stupid tie have meant to anyone but HIM... and me?

So...it was stolen...by some random person that came through my house...it's gone forever...

A burglary happened in Oklahoma, they took things of sentimental value, broke a window...

But here in California its the 1970's and once again I am a violated, young, naked man with a knife and I want to punish that selfish punk and ALL the selfish punks who steal our memories and our security...


Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Highway 49

a huge part of the history of California is the Gold Rush of 1849 and the colourful characters and happenings of the times...the era and the portion of the state that was involved is commemorated by Highway 49 which runs basically North and South through the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

Starting a Mariposa in the south you pass through beautiful scenery and colorful Gold Rush era locations like Angel's Camp, Columbia, Coloma, Grass Valley and Placerville.

Well, you used to pass through them now you whizz by adjacent to most of the towns and the area has been hurt by over-building and the by-passes which were instituted to help and protect the historic towns and like many well meaning modernization schemes-they basically killed the towns in the process.

The first time I visited this area was back when I was about 12 or 14 on a family vacation.

Like many of the vacations the folks planned there was lots to see, lots of history and most of it was very inexpensive or free.

There were ruins along the road carefully preserved and actual towns with iron shutters to help protect from fires ( a constant threat in those days), historic bars, hotels and other structures.

 The road wound through the foothills-2 sleepy lanes most of the way and always went straight through each of the mining towns and camps.

Columbia had been a project of the state Historic Societies and is now a state park and registered Historic Site-many think its like Knott's Berry Farm-built for tourists but Columbia has a checkered past back to 1850 and was past it's prime by the 1860s.

It was a filming location over the years starting back in the 1920s and still features amny of the shops and businesses that it has for over 150 years.

I remember well that we had stopped for dinner in Jamestown which was south of Columbia near Sonora-my sister was about 7 and she asked for a menu-the waitress was surprised and said "Can you read?'-I guess literate little girls of 7 were a rarity in Jamestown?

We had a lovely, homey dinner and chatted with the server-the cafe wasn't real busy and I suppose she appreciated the company...

My Dad asked her how far it was to Columbia which was our first stop for the next day and the lady offered that she thought it was about 30 or 40 miles, she didn't know exactly she had never been there.

It was less than 10 miles.



The Gold Country in those days was still quiet and rural and had charm.

Over the years I went up or down Highway 49 many times-and I watched it change.



There was a fear that the constant traffic was not good for the "delicate" historical buildings so the highway was changed into a series of bypasses-one had to leave highway 49 and use the bypass through the town in order to visit them.

In places like Jamestown the historic route went in front of the businesses and the bypass went behind-sometimes even closer than the original road.

So which was best? Cars slowly traveling through the business district or barreling down a "freeway" which rattles the structures day and night but benefits no one.

Since many towns were barely a block of businesses that mostly operated during the tourist season-the reputation that the area was mostly CLOSED started circulating and more people went past than went through the towns.

Some Towns like Sutter's Creek did OK since it was not possible to go around the town which is nestled into a small picturesque Valley below Placerville.



I actually almost bought a historic Building with a gift shop and lamp business up there but was warned it was a seasonal business and might not be the best investment.

Friends of mine at various times had shoppes along 49-one had a used book store in Placerville that did quite well and another had shoppes in bot Grass Valley and Nevada City that flourished for awhile but like most other tourist dependent businesses eventually succumbed to the fight between merchants associations, historic societies and fluctuations in the economy.

The gold Country is on the East side of the San Joaquin Valley and summer temperatures can be brutally hot and dry-winters can be cold and snowy.

The history of the area is rich and there is much to be learned, characters like Belle Starr, Mark Twain and Black Bart.

In its approx. 300 miles of road one passes ny the Marshall Gold Strike State Park where the original 1849 discovery of Gold started the Gold Rush and along the way many of the sites of mines and towns that make up that portion of the history of California.



Yosemite and Sequoia National Parks are also a part of this area.

At the North end the road ventures into Alpine terrain and eventually disappears-Placer Mining and other highly destructive mining practices were common up this way and the scarred landscape has been preserved for future generations.

The question will ultimately be whether or not the historic towns with their Gold Rush flavour will survive the onslaught of Condos, Walmarts and Gentrification that has been intruding on the area for the last 30 years.

Bear Valley was once the portal to a daunting series of switch backs and hairpin turns which traversed a 1500 foot descent into Hell's Hollow:


A main highway goes across the state, through Placerville and on to Reno or Lake Tahoe.

The modern day trend to rush from one attraction to another is also killing the tourist industry in this area.

One wonders (over 40 years later) if MINERAL KING a proposed Disney project for a ski resort and tourist town near Sequoia would have changed the area for the better?

Working with the state Disney would have created a mining town/ski resort that was pristine, maintained the natural beauty of the area and kept cars at a distance-forcing visitors to park in a central lots and be shuttled into the resort.

Many "theme park" style attraction have come and gone in the Gold Country-the simple truth is people want history and real gold rush flavour-not processed "Hollywood" repackaged attractions that rewrite history.

It seems that in many ways the mining days and the colourful characters that sprang from them are becoming dim memories and less of an attraction in this century.

I have a strong wave of nostalgia for those vacation days of my youth and the sites and sights my family visited.

I doubt my Niece and Nephews will ever find their way up into those foothills even if the quaint little mining camps manage to survive.

How many generations will it take before its all artifacts behind glass in a dusty museum?

The USA has not done a great job of preserving and presenting its history (in the way Europe has for instance)-we thankfully do seem to have a love affair with beautiful scenery and natural wonders and in the process we manage to save some portion of the contributions of humans like Mesa Verde and Canyon De Chelly.

On the other hand seedy or controversial sites like the red light districts of Big Cities or ethnic settlements like Chinatowns quickly vanish if their own inhabitants don't fight to save them.

Bodie, one of the best preserved mining towns is a GHOST TOWN on the Eastern Slope of the Sierras-it is protected by the state in a condition of "arrested decay"-fires and weather have taken their toll and little of the rough and tumble parts of the town remain-although 2 of the churches still stand.



If you ask they will vaguely gesture to an area where the "cribs" of the prostitutes "may" have been.

It comes back to that repressed side of American's and their history-rather than laugh and take joy from our diverse history we varnish over what embarrasses us.

We never stop to think that those tough, hard boiled, thick skinned people of history all were a part of what it took to create this country.

No matter how much we would like to portray it otherwise we did exploit Chinese workers on both the Railroad system and in mining.

Someday we have to find a way to accept all of our rich history and not apologize for it but rather see it as the rich tapestry it was and how it has affected our lives today.

Its astonishing to me that many Americans refuse to believe there was a time in the east when many businesses had prominent signs that said No DOGS, NO JEWS, No IRISH and it was about 1970 before the FAGGOTS STAY OUT sign came down off the wall in Barney's Beanery in West Hollywood.

Herein is the danger of presenting history as it was-the Gold Rush is portrayed in many films and TV shows (not to mention books and stories)-Saloon Girls, Chinese Workers (remember Hop Sing?) picturesque Mexican Bandidos (including the gone and long lamented Frito's Bandido), there must be many others, a cleaned up and sanitized version of what actually was going on in the USA of our history.

I love the film McCABE AND MRS MILLER-it's a haunting, gritty and at time beautiful film about life in a Sierra Nevada Mining Camp in 1902.

Robert Altman who directed the film called it an ANTI-WESTERN because it circumvented so many of the dull Hollywood stereotypes and conventional plot points to present a more realistic portrait of greed, lust and life in that period.

Like CASINO which takes a similar look at the glitzy gambling empire of Las Vegas-McCabe is a movie which deserves the honor it received by being preserved in the library of Congress as culturally and historically significant.

For the same reasons we need to be sure that our historic towns and sites are maintained, preserved and shared with not only our population but with the people of the world.

If we let developers take the best land and condoize it eventually the will want the adjacent property to improve property values and to improve the view-how long will it be before our history just fades away amongst the Burger Stands and Gas Stations?

This started out to be a memory of a part of California that I love and have loved for many years-it turned into a rage against the loss or potential loss of the places from which the memories spring.

Even more it's anger at how we have allowed the world to just forget and pass by inconvenient parts of our history, less attractive parts of our past.

Twenty years ago on a well traveled road in Pennsylvania we passed a spot where the highway was deserted around a small fenced off plot about 8 x 10 feet maybe that held some family graves...no one seemed to find that unusual...I remember saying "That would never happen in California."

Here we would have moved the remains into an established cemetery...maybe.

OR we would have created a bypass that didn't require people to slow down and understand why they were going around a part of history.




Friday, August 11, 2017

I hate E MAIL

We don't seem to be able to do without it and at the same time so many people fight and curse it-I just simply hate EMAIL and texting and twitter and all those short and simple manners of "communication LITE' we seem addicted to.

The first and more obvious strike against EMAIL is it's lack of depth and tone.

In an old fashioned letter one can wax on and fill pages with rich verbiage doing their utmost to convey exactly what they are feeling (and meaning).



EMAIL by design and intent is short and concise-you cannot see or hear the person writing and often you may not have any frame of reference by which to gauge their actual meaning and intensity (or lack thereof) .

Things meant to be light and joking can read out as stiff and haughty or demanding.

Seldom have I been involved in an email misunderstanding where in the recipient thought the whole thing was funny and mocking.

Actually that is NOT true it happened once-a person emailed me to scold me for missing their birthday (ignoring their birthday) and I shot back a lengthy message outlining why they were a miserable bastard , how I had done far more than my share and to wither and die unless they could find a convincing apology somewhere in their miserable rat bastard soul.

I got a short concise reply: ROTFLMAOPMPTRDMF

They seriously thought I was kidding and had written the funniest piece of recrimination in history.

Cut down an email to a few words hastily thumbed off on a cel phone and you have the tweets and texts that some of our current leadership is so fond of-even easier to misunderstand and it seems likely to get one into trouble.

I want to go back to the days of softly scented rich writing paper/stationary embossed, engraved, designed for the purpose of communication and wanting to be filled with lovely script handwriting.

They stopped teaching kids how to write, penmanship became a thing of the past...you  are no longer judged on you margins...

Only the very wealthy own fountain pens and they reside in a special case for their writing implement collection.



I used to collect note cards: singles, boxes, sets, handmade and manufactured-I never sent a store bought greeting card I always put something together from my collection of various writing surfaces kept in a cardboard lap desk along with parchment envelopes of bits and bobs-inclusions...how lovely to send a beautiful card carefully written in purple ink, scented with lavender and containing a delicate hankie , tatted book mark or some other little unique treasure.

At one time people would save silk ribbons, single feathers; even the wings of butterflies to tuck into a note-it was important to have the perfect thing to go off in the mail not just a piece of cold paper.

Not so many years ago we always had prints of photos put aside and letters EAST or overseas never went without a snapshot or two.



I suppose attachments have filled that purpose but who prints them off anymore-they end up in the smart phone and are swiped up for others to see and then forgotten.

I loved to buy cards from Papyrus-they had so many styles, cards sparkling with glitter, pierced parchment inserts.....luxury.

Special pens in gold, silver, bronze and copper inks and coloured pearls or glitters-they are still around, I used them to sign photos, autograph books, make a special note in a margin...

They wrote BOOKS about how to write letters, notes, apologies, acceptances, invitations...correspondence was an ART FORM.

Now its quick and cold...terse...maybe the occasional emoji (ick, is it POOP or is it Chocolate Yogurt? No one seems sure).

I want my grace and beauty back.

I do know a few people who still attempt the style and class of another time but truth be told it's not so easy to get the proper supplies and when you can they are bloody expensive.

Eventually it will be micro files with short statements or vids clicked off with cams in the phones or animated GIFS (or whatever comes next); a clever Rabbit that pops up and says "I'm late" and then explodes into a cloud of glitter.

There was a book that had that sort of futuristic paraphernalia-opulent little nonsensical events, computer generated and masquerading as style.

SO....I hate EMAIL....I use it-it certainly is cheaper than stamps...but I still say it's sparse.



Perhaps they could invent a form of 90 second movie that encapsulated the essence of what you were trying to say and could be personalized-OH WAIT...Jib Jab....never mind.

I hate EMAIL.



 

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