Song on the supermarket loudspeaker: “I wish every day was Christmas.”


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No, you don’t.

Can you imagine if every single day, week after week, year after year, was Christmas?! Shopping to give people presents every day? Decorating your home and preparing Christmas dinner every day? Arranging time off of work and traveling to visit friends and family? Virtually every business and office closed? Plus all of your favorite TV shows postponed, and nothing but Christmas songs on the radio… forever?!

And what about poor Santa? Having to make that trip every single night of the year?

More importantly, you’d soon get sick of it being Christmas. Holiday fatigue would set in; too much of a good thing. It would become just another dopey, predictable, routine drudge. “Oh, man, Christmas again already. I’m barely recovered from yesterday’s Christmas…”

“After a while turkeys got to be awfully scarce, selling for about a thousand dollars apiece. They got to passing off almost anything for turkeys–even half-grown hummingbirds. And cranberries–well, they asked a diamond apiece for cranberries. All the woods and orchards were cut down for Christmas trees. After a while they had to make Christmas trees out of rags. But there were plenty of rags, because people got so poor, buying presents for one another, that they couldn’t get any new clothes, and they just wore their old ones to tatters.” – From “Christmas Every Day” by William Dean Howells

No, it’s probably a very good thing that every day is NOT Christmas.

Just saw an annoying Nissan Sentra commercial that brags on how loud its Bose speakers are.

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Have I mentioned lately how boom cars annoy me more than just about anything in the entire goddamn world?

There really is no reason to drive a boom car except to be an obnoxious, self-centered, delayed-adolescence prick. Which this ad seems to celebrate.


I’m waiting for the followup commercial where he drives down my street, and I beat him to a quivering pulp with a baseball bat.

There does seem to be a direct correlation between the loudness of the boom car and the shittiness of the music. You never hear Mozart or Django Reinhardt for some reason.

Rant off.

I have deliberately avoided posting on here about the Ferguson grand jury decision.

So here’s my first and last post on the topic.

It’s frustrating that there won’t be a deserved fair hearing for the facts. You would think everyone involved would want such a thing. As Ezra Klein wrote, the point of a trial would have been to try to find out if everything we thought we knew about Michael Brown was wrong, or if Darren Wilson’s story was flawed in important ways. But now we’re not going to get that chance.

Just as meaningful, though, is the reaction of some people I know well. I have learned that some people are terrified of losing faith in their authority figures.

Presidents are always trustworthy, judges are always impartial, clergy are always ethical, and police are always justified in shooting.

That is all.

42,000 hits!

Sometime last night. Exactly a month ago it hit 41,000.

Thanks, pals. * snif *


Kenny Rogers: Looks like feathers on a din-din sign?

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“Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In)” by Kenny Rogers and The First Edition. Easily the most non-understandable lyric in the history of pop music. After forty-six years I finally had to Google the lyrics to figure out what he was really singing.

“Someone painted ‘April Fool’ in big black letters on a ‘Dead End’ sign.”

But it sounds like:

“Someone really echo smooth, looks like feathers on a din-din sign.”

I knew that couldn’t be right. Feathers on a din-din sign?!

My brother Mike said, this might be the feathers on the din-din sign they’re referring to. Now that’s really echo smooth, ain’t it?

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An oldie but a goodie

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A guy goes into a crowded bar. He walks up to the counter and orders a beer. Then he says, “Hey bartender. I just heard the funniest Iowa joke ever. Let me tell it to you.”

A hush comes over the bar. The place turns still. Every eye turns to this guy.

The bartender clears his throat and says, “Sir, before you tell me that Iowa joke, let me point a few things out to you.” He points to his right and says, “Take a look at that end of the bar and tell me what you see.”

The guy looks and says, “Wow. Two big guys.”

“That’s right,” says the bartender. “Those are two Iowa farm boys.” He points to his left and says, “Take a look at that end of the bar and tell me what you see.”

The guy looks and says, “Wow. Two bigger guys.”

“That’s right,” says the bartender. “Those are two Iowa State wrestlers.” He points behind him and says, “Take a look back there and tell me what you see.”

The guy looks and says, “Wow. Two even bigger guys.”

“That’s right,” says the bartender. “Those are two Hawkeye linebackers.” He leans in to the guy and asks, “Now are you sure you still want to tell me that Iowa joke?”

“Hell, no,” scoffs the guy. “Not if I’m gonna have to explain it six times.”

Song of the night: “Photograph” by Blue Rodeo (1994)

Great band. Great album. Great song.

Started out so simple
Everything so innocent and plain
She was in a doorway
And I was walking nowhere down the main
She whispered something softly
And stepped into the light
“Can you help me out?” she said
“I’m a little lost tonight”
One day love just hits you with a flash
Lights go off around you like some

She said her bags were stolen
All they left her was her camera on her arm
She told me she was new in town
Only two weeks off the farm
Why did I believe her?
Heaven only knows
She looked into my eyes
And my resolution goes
One day love just hits you with a flash
Leaves you staring blindly like some

Pictures of two fools
Laughing at the world
Smiling as only good luck does
Truth is, you’re not even looking at me, girl
All the time I was falling
You kept on stalling
Sizing up how big a fool I was

Woke up in the morning
I didn’t think that I had been asleep too long
The room was dark and empty
I could see that all my clothes and money were gone
I’ve run out of excuses
And people I can blame
If she ever asked me to
I’d do it all again
One day love just hits you with a flash
Leaves you staring blindly like some

(For all of us who have ever been sized up for a fool while we were falling.)


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