(Blah! I have an octopus!)
Here’s a picture from this windy but fine Autumn morning.
Vince Guaraldi is a genius. “The Great Pumpkin Waltz” is almost too good of a song to be on the soundtrack for a cartoon. Lucky that this cartoon is pretty legend, too.
Okay, if I have to pick my favorite horror movie – not the best horror movie, just my favorite; I gotta go with Friday the 13th.
Happy Halloween, Ya’ll!
I was working on a review but I didn’t get it done in time. Sorry…
So, here are two of my favorite fake bands.
I know how to get most stains out of clothes.
I made this really great Japanese soup for lunch today.
That Document is my second favorite R.E.M. album.
That years of doing theatre and puppeteering has messed up both my knees to the point that arthritis is setting in.
That most of the hair on my head is gray now.
That I am a cat person, though I do love my dog.
I have a weakness for chocolate.
That I left the ice cream on the counter last night, fell asleep on the couch, and it all melted.
I drink two cups of coffee a day, and sometimes three if I’m working on a project.
I have no memories of the town I was born in.
I find long, think ear hair really, really gross.
That I think the word “grody” should be used more often.
I no longer think the band 311 sucks.
I was in a movie, it was terrible, and I will not tell you the title.
When I was in college, I changed my major seven times.
If I focus hard, and I can still smell the perfume my first girlfriend used to wear.
I watched one episode of “Cop Rock” when it was originally on tv.
The only bones I have broken are my right pinky toe and finger.
I like riding on the Long Island Rail Road.
(Many miles away…)
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.
Frederick Douglass had a some thoughts on free speech.
Now the darkness only stays at night time
In the morning it will fade away
Daylight is good
At arriving at the right time
But it’s not always going
To be this grey
(Throw out your frown…)
So, I was sitting in my car this morning because I needed to move it for the street sweeper, and my phone rang with a number that I didn’t recognize. I think I’m like most people and I don’t answer calls to numbers I don’t know. If it’s important, they’ll leave a message and I’ll call them back. But this morning, the number kept calling me, and didn’t leave a message. I mean, I’m pretty sure it was a spam/bot call and no big deal, yet there is still part of me that gets a little rush of anxiety when a call keeps calling. Like, if they keep calling it must be important. It has to be important if they called three times. This must be the most important call, because they called three times from Miami! But didn’t leave a message. That’s why I don’t answer.
I stayed up and watched the Cowboys play the Eagles. Actually, I watched until the weather delay, and at that point I called it. I was hoping that the Cowboys would win, but I wasn’t totally surprised that they lost. At the breakfast table this morning, the kid had questions about who won the game, which I found rather surprising. Normally, she doesn’t care about the Cowboys or football in general, but she was rather curious about the game, and if I watched it all. Then she wanted to know if I thought the Cowboys would win the Super Bowl, which I told her no, and that the team would be lucky to be above .500 this year. Then she wanted to know if I as going to watch all of their games, which I am. She was confused by this, and wanted to know why I was going to watch them if I thought they were going to lose. Because that’s want a fan of a team does; you suffer along with the team, and hope for next year. I really hoped that there was some important life lesson there that I was passing along, about loyalty, and commitment. But what I she made me feel was that I was about to waste a lot of time over the next couple of Sundays.
Boy, it is not a joke. The day after Labor Day, New York City fills back up with people. Twenty years I have been here, and I keep thinking that this maxim isn’t true. And every year I am amazed how on Labor Day, no one is around, and then the next day, people are everywhere. I really should know better.
