YE OLD BUTT WORK

Yup, I've dropped off the blogger radar--the everything radar, when you get right down to it. I've been sitting on my butt for the last three days completing a "desk job" of nightmarish proportions! But that's cool; I've also had an extended opportunity to get an overdose of daytime TV. The job perk: it's an assembly-line mailing, leaving room for putting my eyes and mind elsewhere now and again. I am so surprised--daytime TV doesn't totally suck! On the History Channel, Don and I found out more about the Civil War era than we can possibly need for daily 21st Century life, up to and including that Sam Colt and Philo Remington, main marketers of the guns used in the war, were contemporaries. Remington was less concerned about the almighty dollar and tried to outfox (outgun?) Colt by offering his shooter at a more convenient price. This is important news. But Oprah provided the really good stuff, since her show today was about transgender children. Final conclusion--Mom, Dad, just let 'em be what they know they are, thus avoiding childhood depression and possible suicide. At the end of the show, one conflicted daddy unable to accept his young son's desire to be a girl told the world he was now ready to go out and buy his son/daughter the dolls he so craved. Hey, live and let live, I always say. And inculcating childcare skills early is always a plus.

REDONDO AGAIN
Today Joni and I did our usual miles-long trek from her apartment in Redondo to the boardwalk in Hermosa. We chilled at Hennessey's and ate their Tuesday two-for-one burger special (we went veggie--with bbq sauce). On the way there I chatted with two 16-year-old surfer girls and regaled them about how, when I was their age, I so wanted to surf, as "all my boyfriends did" (slight exaggeration), but that I was chicken. And that surfing is the most exciting and beautiful sport ever. 'Twas very cool to see these tanned and pretty little ones lugging boards and talking about the lifestyle . . .
In her inimitable, nothing-is-impossible, always sincere manner, Joni asked me when I am going to learn to surf! I laughed and tried to explain: "I bodysurf. That's as far as I can go." I stopped just short of saying I'm too old. "I'll learn it when I go to Hawaii."
As if!!
For her part, Joni is dealing with some monstrous apartment owners who have doubled her rent. With all planets in Aquarius and perhaps the most metaphysically astute consciousness in the West, she will soon flash in a new home. Go, Joni!!

NOT A LAUGHING MATTER?
Perhaps since UFOs--as we cover them in the magazine--aren't fictional or comical, the smallish comic convention we attended yesterday for "Dark Matters" resulted in almost zilch magazine buys. One sub, maybe two magazines--after 8 hours! Cynthia, a great fan of the show and an industrious promoter, arranged for our table at the Con and Dwight and Don greeted friends, Dwight signing photos of himself as Murdock of "The A-Team" and Reg Barclay of "Star Trek," perhaps his best-known roles. I thought the event, held at the majestic Shrine Auditorium, was lots of kiddy fun--the comic books and assorted toys and figurines available were simply awesome. My inner kid frolicked. I found a large creepy insect transformer for my grandson and a small "money toad" for myself. Both cute; the bug adorned with flashy colors. I'll take a photo. 'Til then, here's a shot of Dwight and Don, buds forever!

HELPLESSLY HOPING
Blogger support usually has all the answers. Per their instructions I had Don get rid of my "cookies," but the repetitive blog entries about Buckwheat's upset tummy ("ABOUT THE BOY") will not be deleted!!. I attempted to delete the entry something like 20 times and they're still all there. I give up. On to something new . . .
I will write more extensively about this at the UFO Magazine blog: The Dan Burisch supporters have been stung by our latest issue; main "handler" Marcie McDowell wrote a huge--but not evidence laden--note accusing the magazine of venal moneymaking schemes, slander and general lies about the vaunted member of "Majestic" and the brilliant "doctor" of . . . is it biology? Psychology? Scamology? Dan Crain aka Dan Burisch. Claims to know a real ET! Heh-heh. I always consider these violent outbursts from the exposed a badge of honor!

DUE TO TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES...
...The current blog glitch has not been corrected. After a few more blog episodes here it won't matter much, but the anal part of me absolutely despises waste--waste in any form. Even cyber-waste!
Be that as it may, I had some great escapes today--a pale microbrew (at 11 a.m.!) and a game of Scrabble, then a movie. Cath's birthday choice. Nope, 'twasn't "The Village." Instead, "Collateral," and the flick was really entertaining, albeit with more than a couple of moments where you had to suspend your disbelief like a lazy spider on a silken thread.

RECTIFY MY BLOG

I notified Blogger about my disastrous repeat entry. Soon this thing should be back to normal. Maybe. And incidentally--Mr. B. hasn't barfed in over 24 hours--but I curtailed his morning walk somewhat. Didn't want him to romp as much as he was inclined to do, what with smelling dog-delicious odors in the brush and chasing imaginary creatures. On tap for manana: Cath's birthday Margarita at Casa Whatever in La Crescenta and a possible movie. Hoping to see "The Village," M. Night Shyamalan's latest.

HOLY SHIT
Pardon my French. But my blog about Buckwheat's tummy troubles has duplicated itself and refuses to be erased! On one of these insanely cloned and re-cloned copies was the photo you see here. I suppose I need to get a life . . .

ABOUT THE BOY
Buckwheat has upchucked on the living room rug the last couple of days, and of course I'm worried. He looks fine otherwise, but I'm concerned he's not getting enough nourishment. We've been on our regular walks, too, and at first I thought he might simply have over-exerted himself; yesterday we took a long hike in the morning, and although it wasn't that hot, he really jumped and ran around a lot, tumbling in the scrub brush--so excited to be out and about in the hills we both love. Today, however, we only went once around the park, a very easy, short trip. I left for the post office and when I came back Don showed me the new barf spot . . . my poor baby's tummy isn't working right.
In other news: Scallops for dinner tonight.
(I just so love the wild, head-spinning, delirirous, fireworks-a-minute excitement of my life in this not-quite-Topanga canyon!!)

ABOUT THE BOY
Buckwheat has upchucked on the living room rug the last couple of days, and of course I'm worried. He looks fine otherwise, but I'm concerned he's not getting enough nourishment. We've been on our regular walks, too, and at first I thought he might simply have over-exerted himself; yesterday we took a long hike in the morning, and although it wasn't that hot, he really jumped and ran around a lot, tumbling in the scrub brush--so excited to be out and about in the hills we both love. Today, however, we only went once around the park, a very easy, short trip. I left for the post office and when I came back Don showed me the new barf spot . . . my poor baby's tummy isn't working right.
In other news: Scallops for dinner tonight.
(I just so love the wild, head-spinning, delirirous, fireworks-a-minute excitement of my life in this not-quite-Topanga canyon!!

ABOUT THE BOY
Buckwheat has upchucked on the living room rug the last couple of days, and of course I'm worried. He looks fine otherwise, but I'm concerned he's not getting enough nourishment. We've been on our regular walks, too, and at first I thought he might simply have over-exerted himself; yesterday we took a long hike in the morning, and although it wasn't that hot, he really jumped and ran around a lot, tumbling in the scrub brush--so excited to be out and about in the hills we both love. Today, however, we only went once around the park, a very easy, short trip. I left for the post office and when I came back Don showed me the new barf spot . . . my poor baby's tummy isn't working right.
In other news: Scallops for dinner tonight.
(I just so love the wild, head-spinning, delirirous, fireworks-a-minute excitement of my life in this not-quite-Topanga canyon!!

ABOUT THE BOY
Buckwheat has upchucked on the living room rug the last couple of days, and of course I'm worried. He looks fine otherwise, but I'm concerned he's not getting enough nourishment. We've been on our regular walks, too, and at first I thought he might simply have over-exerted himself; yesterday we took a long hike in the morning, and although it wasn't that hot, he really jumped and ran around a lot, tumbling in the scrub brush--so excited to be out and about in the hills we both love. Today, however, we only went once around the park, a very easy, short trip. I left for the post office and when I came back Don showed me the new barf spot . . . my poor baby's tummy isn't working right.
In other news: Scallops for dinner tonight.
(I just so love the wild, head-spinning, delirirous, fireworks-a-minute excitement of my life in this not-quite-Topanga canyon!!

MATRICULATION OF THE EGO
Cath called me and she's staying in California, which I knew was the right decision. Besides her son maintaining continuity with his home and school, Cath herself has a valuable life and learning experience she needs to stay with. After completing a novel that she worked on with near religious dedication, she enrolled in an advanced creative writing course at UCLA. I did the same thing some years ago (not the novel part--enrolling in a writing class), and the way she talked about her experience makes me ashamed of my own reaction to my own adult classroom journey . . . She says the other participants--younger, all--challenge her "to (her) very soul's core." Liberal with their criticisms, tremendously bright and voluble, she says they often make her feel like she's intellectually "treading water." The others in my own class those years ago made me feel the same way; I can remember one critical moment where I felt they were laughing at my ideas. It stirred up pain from the past, so much so that it precipitated a depression--needlessly, in retrospect. But I fled from the scene. Catherine's ego is one to be proud of: She says she welcomes these uncomfortable feelings, and wants to stay with the class and look at these feelings so that she can transcend them. I've always known Catherine's sensibilities are enviable. But when she told me this, my admiration for her emotional courage soared.
It hurts--seeing my own wussy ego still stuck in the lower grades.