anonymousbuyer

2008-01-10T14:21:00.000-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l2OHR0F5GIo&eurl=http://anonymousbuyer.blogspot.com/

Children's Books We Would Like To See

2008-01-10T12:32:00.000-08:00

"Let your capital be simplicity and contentment." - Henry David Thoreau

Anonymousbuyer has had occasion to loiter in the children's sections of bookstores. Often the chairs are more comfortable and it's quieter. We look around at the hundreds of different book titles for kids and it strikes us that there are some titles missing. They have titles like "Everyone Poops". But, here are children's books that we would like to plagiar....er...write:

"Everyone Farts", by George Carlin.
"Mommy, What Happened To Our Dog", by Michael Vick.
"God Is Dead, and So Is Santa Clause", by Friedrich Nietzsche.

Monthly Cleaning Out of Break Room Refrigerators

2008-01-09T12:15:00.000-08:00

"Almost all our faults are more pardonable than the methods we resort to to hide them." - Francois de La Rochefoucauld

We loved to hit the breakrooms on different floors of the WMD and eat leftover food before it got thrown out by the janitors of Sunday. Just hated to see food wasted, even someone's homemade spaghetti with meat sauce that had been sitting around for a couple weeks. Or, a half sandwich left to rot. We never, ever got sick from that rotting buffet of sorts. It was all good, a genuine potluck! Our sister called yesterday. She said she had a line on an apartment for 400 a month. Her motel room is only paid through this Saturday morning. I wished her luck, but I had no money. Sorry. She wanted some of mother's check. I had explained to her previously that mother's money would no longer be available to either her or anonymousbuyer. It's would now going straight to the nursing home as mother's co-payment under Medicaid. Finally, mother was going to pay some of her expenses in these places. I'm delighted for my mother. She seems happy there. It appears to be a fairly decent nursing home on Monaco, just down the hill from good old George. They'll have to eat the money owed for the past six months before Medicaid kicked in. Good luck coming after us for any of that. We had set the process in motion many months ago. Pity it now affects sister. Guess we should have kept her in the other apartment. We had the money to do that last June. Oh, well. Wonder what sister will do with our kitty cat? It's in her possesion now. Hopefully, she'll deal with it, either keep it or called animal control. We tried to find a home for Old Lady (that's what Jerome called her; I just called her kitty) but nothing seemed available. Sister will do fine. She should have been out finding section 8 but she never counted on losing mother's money. Oh, well. She's right, we suppose. We do hate her. We shouldn't but we do. We should have cut her off to fend for herself years ago. It's unnatural to have to be involved so much with an adult sibling. Then again we got something from being needed as well. Might have done the Medicaid thing with mother and nursing home years ago. But, you know, mother enjoyed living on her own and I was loathe to force some solution against her wishes. We had taken her grocery shopping every two weeks for many years after dad died in 1995. Then, eventually, she couldn't get around much on her own. Then sister moved in mother's apartment. It all worked for another few more years, but then started to deteriorate. Paramedics and Fire and Police were called over to help mother or deal with complaints. Sister has a particularly obnoxious heroin addict daughter that was part of the mix. In and out of hospitals and nursing homes. Sister proved over and over that dealing with mother's infirmaties was too big a task. Too big a task for anyone. Then she forged mother's signature on some checks. She blew other money that we gave her. Maybe she felt entitled in exchange for the work she did helping mother in the apartment. She is off drugs now but was always getting pulled back in, sometime by her good for nothing daughter. Who were we to judge given our own proclivities? We finally paid ourselves a little as our own finances deteriorated. How much of our own money have we blown? Must approach 250K since fall of 2005. Over 150,000 pulled out of the house. Then the 100,000 from deferred comp. 5K here, 10K there. Adds up. A key turning point was a Sunday night at a local high stakes poker game. We lost an initial 10K buy-in, then a second. That twenty thousand dollar loss should have been the final wake up call. But it wasn't. We were on tilt and just going to gamble more to win it back. Like an on-kick attempt, the odds are way stacked against you. Still, though, we had 70K on our hip last June. So f*cking stupid. Stupidity endlessly layered upon stupidity. We just never had a proper respect for money. Or our job. Or our life. And so the end is near.....

FINIS

2008-01-07T19:39:00.000-08:00

Ah, do we face the final curtain? Like most things in life it's easier said than done. Viewed a Namath DVD tonight at the library. It was part of an NFL-issued autobiography of Namath. So bloody amazing to watch those old clips of Joe Willie. Sublime. Transcendent. John Madden, his old nemesis from the AFL is there: Namath had the best looking drop and threw the best looking ball he'd ever seen. And we agree. He would turn and glide back and drop ten yards. Effortless. Like a ballet dancer. Then whip the ball down field forty yards in an instant. Do quarterbacks even take ten yard drops anymore? One of the reasons for the low completion percentage and interceptions is that Namath threw to his wideouts, instead of continually dumping off to running backs. They show a classic pass play with Namath hitting Maynard or Sauer in stride 55 yards, throwing off his back foot falling away. That's Elway stuff. Favre is the closest thing today to Namath. Favre has a ton of interceptions as well. He's a cocksure gunslinger in the Namath style, except with better knees. When we played high school football we wore the same Puma white cleats that Joe wore. So cool. Pity we lost track of them. We also had a couple of those colorful Joe Namath sport shirts. Wish we still had those.

Library is closing. Guess we'll go over to rec center and watch the finish of the BCS championship. Then, it may well be finis.

We've become a regular false-Kassandra of sorts, at least relative to our own fate. So hard to actually end our life. But even harder to live, to pull out of this mess we've created for ourself. We feel like paying the ultimate price. Settle all accounts with one pull. Thus is the thought process of a depressed and suicidal fat piece of garbage. All we really want to really do is drink and play poker, with an occasional break for TV. No more money though. We blew it all, and then some.

Well, Dan, guess we'll have to pass. We can't say with certainty that we are serious, and that was your stipulation. You would make a good homeless shelter counselor--get 'em well and move 'em out. The City would concur with that sort of thing. We can see the point. We used to preach to our own brother and sister along those lines. Hey, wasn't my pledge class something special? First Rob M and now perhaps yours truly. Was there something in the water or the air that semester? LOL. Morbidly funny stuff. We can't bring ourself to asking for a job from that contractor that we knew back with the City. What's the point? We would only disappoint. Too embarassing. Once you get off that treadmill, as we did back in April, it's dreadfully hard to get back on it. We knew that at the time but didn't care. Just had to get the hell out of Dodge regardless of the consequences, which have now come home to roost. Like the saying: "A friend in need is a pest!" We hate resorting to charity and so do those couple of folks we've asked lately. LOL. Charity only delays the inevitable end. Getting involved with messed-up folks only brings disappointment. Can't save the world, even one person at a time, unless that person wants to save themself. And, we don't seem or be able to do it. Let that momentum of a life just reach zero. Absolute inertia. We've had a good run, some chances to pull out of the abyss. Just didn't work out, that's all. Running a marathon in 4:04 is big. So was shaking Dean Martin's hand after his final show in Vegas at Ballys in 1991. Make those two things a tie for first. What would be the point of living beyond this day? Just more killing time. Too much stuff to sort out. Easier to just exit the picture and let others do it. We are a coward and we are lazy. And we have live a life with a certain freedom. We can't envision any other way. Our way worked for 47 years and a few days. Typing that age makes it seem like an awfully young age. We should have figured out a way to hold on with the City. Then, again, we got a kick out of throwing it all away. Set the final solution in motion. Oddly enough, we feel pretty good these days.

What a day this has been/ What a rare mood I'm in/ Why it's almost like falling ten floors......

Now eight days in the car. It's actually not that bad. The money is, finally, approaching zero. A single two-dollar bill. A single one-dollar bill. Seven or so SBA dollar coins. A couple bucks in both Kennedy halfs and silver quarters. Maybe we'll drift downtown today and just go ahead and jump once and for all.

Boy, Jim Rome is a funny guy on the radio. He played this tape of a 911 call. A woman is saying that her kids are out of control or something. Then the 911 guy says "what do you want me to do come over and kill them?" "What", she said. Hey I'm just kidding, he said. What's your name I'm calling you supervisor. No amount of apologizing could appease the woman. Funny stuff. Then Rome comes back and wonders what will prompt the next 911 call from that woman. Hey, my kids won't come back inside for dinner. Hey, they won't brush their teeth. On so on. I know--you had to be there.

Mirabile Scriptu

2008-01-06T09:00:00.000-08:00

Anonymousbuyer was wrapping up a sixth consecutive night sleeping in the car. You may recall that the week before he had been invited to leave the house of a so-called friend. He had been staying at this house for the past couple months. Pity he couldn't have used those few months more productively. But then he's pretty much shot, spent, done, down for the count--probably going back many years. He may just as well shoot himself in that old rental car in the front yard of that friend where we parked day after day for the past couple months. Ugly sentence. Anyway, after getting a few hours sleep parked on a quiet sidestreet, anonymousbuyer decided to part with a few remaining SBAs in exchange for a couple gallons of gas. He drove a few blocks into what appeared a quiet motel parking lot. The idea was to get another hour or so of sleep before "Rosy-fingered dawn rose once again". Unfortunately, he parked facing a main thoroughfare and was also just inside of the boundaries of a little island hamlet called glendale, landlocked on all sides by the much larger C & C. He was sound asleep when a wakeup call came from a member of that hamlet's police department. This could be it, he thought. Times up. Finally ran out of luck. Don't outlive your money or your luck!
"May I please have you driver's license, sir. What are you doing here, sir?"

"I was just sleeping, officer. This is rental car. I had to leave the place I had been staying at." (Here, imagine Bill Murray in "Stripes": What are you doing soldier? Training, Sir. What kind of training? Aaarrmmyy training, sir.)

After presumably running the driver's license, the officer asked anonymousbuyer to please get out of the car. He said he smelled booze, a certain anonymous cheap vodka aroma. We had always thought vodka was odorless. Maybe just a lucky guess on the officer's part.

"Have you been drinking tonight, sir?"

"No, not for a while officer", anonymousbuyer courteously slurred.

"When WAS the last time you had something to drink?", the officer asked.

"Oh, maybe, eleven or twelve last night," he lied.

Then the nice police officer had me do the-follow-the-tip of his-pen-with-my-eyes roadside sobriety thing. Luckily he didn't make me walk a white line. (Here, insert old Dean Martin joke: I ain't going to walk no white line until you put a net under it.) He volunteered that he was just tired, not intoxicated. That WAS in fact the truth. Anonymousbuyer even volunteered to do a breathalyzer test. No, that wouldn't be necessary. By this time I noticed the officer's sergeant had siddled up and joined the festivities. A charming, quiet lady sergeant. Now two patrol vehicles had anonymousbuyer cornered this crisp early Sunday Morning Coming Down. The officer finally concluded that I was probably only .02 or .03 drunk, not enough probable cause to arrest for DUI. He asked anonymousbuyer if he needed help. Anonymous lied and said no. (He wanted to add that he had enjoyed sleeping in the rental car the past five nights, but thought better of it. Earlier he had admitted to the officer that his house was in foreclosure and he still had access to it but couldn't stay there. Said he might have a friend to stay with tonight. Ya, sure. Good luck with that pally. So long story short anonymousbuyer was free to drive away. The officer reminded him that even though he is a fellow of Brobdingnagian proportions, it's still dangerous to sleep in a car like that. Funny the officer never pursued a line of questioning about the rental car and California plates. You've got enough money to have a rental car from California but not enough for a motel room? Curious, very curious. Guess there are no outstanding warrants on old anonymousbuyer at the moment. Or, the check was not comprehensive. Who knows? He HAD been curious about that but how does one go about asking the cops to run a warrant check? Aren't there still laws on the books against vagrancy? How much money do you have on you, sir? Anonymousbuyer benefitted, he imagined, from being fairly anglo and not excessively disheveled. Had he been of a darker skin tone there would no doubt of arrest and taking the car, etc. God, his heart was pounding as the police officer checked the license out and ran through the tip of the pen thing. His heart would similiarly pound calling a ten thousand dollar bet on a good drawing hand. He once hit an on-line pot limit hold 'em hand on the river for a $15K pot. Those were the days. Sitting in his robe in the morning sipping Glenlivit from the bottle and playing on-line poker. He also knew that parking a sleeping a little more within that hamlet of glendale was tempting fate. Maybe that's why he did it. One last thrill before checking out of the Hotel Still-living. How many more nights could this go one? There's only enough money for a handful of gallons of gasoline. Maybe he can finish that Wilt/Bill Russell book today. Just incredible the racism during those early days of the NBA. Remnants still remain. But there is no fighting today like there was back then. I mean Red Auerbach would rush into the stands and beat up a fan. Players regularly got into fist fights. Competing with hockey and wrestling. The shots that Namath and others took, late hits, cheap shots. Brutal. Football is still a violant game but they protect the QBs. For anyone who cares, there is also a new book by Micheal Strahan. Fairly candid look, it seems to us, at reality in the NFL.

There will be no more books started in this lifetime. Oh, we broke 1.4 million on Galaga at Dave and B's. Damn thing doesn't show the high score. Oh, well. A seventh night in the car beckons. We'll avoid that hamlet of glendale. But will our luck hold out on the "safe" streets? Why not just pack it it tonight. We are bone tired....yet oddly exhilarated....

Don't Outlive Your Money

2008-01-05T13:14:00.000-08:00

Isn't that what all those investion commercials say. Start planning now. A woman who looks ninety is tapping away at a nearby library computer. She seems to not have outlived her investments. Anonymousbuyer won't be outliving his now-meager bankroll. Perhaps he can time it down to the last half-dollar. He wanted to complain about all the noisy rug rats at the library. Wouldn't some employee remind parents to quiet their darlings down just a shade. But then he realized who was HE to complain. He had washed his hair sometime earlier in the library's men's room. It had one of those high surgical faucets, probably for the handicaped. It works for hair because you can get your head underneath to rinse off the anti-bacterial hand foam soap you used to wash your hair. Soap is soap. He also was shaking out his dusty old socks and scraping his feet a bit. So who was he to complain about a little noise? Five nights of fitful sleep in a car is making him punchy. But that is the idea. To experience living in a car and sleep deprivation and spending the last quarter. He must work himself into a frenzy in order to make that exit from this life stage left. No sadness, either. Rather it will end the sadness. He's altogether too emotional--you should have seem him crying uncontrollably anytime he stopped into the dumb friends league shelter. Hell, even Namath makes him cry. Wilt and Bill Russell. The list goes on and on. No guilt about sister anymore. She didn't answer the door at the motel when it was 9 degrees. Thanks, Grace, that makes us even. Take care, though, of Jerome's cat as long as you can. Give mother my best. I'll try and email her brothers and let them know where she is.

"Mr. Booze", et al.--Toe Tapping Stuff

2008-01-03T10:07:00.000-08:00

(sung to a Salvation Army revival meeting tempo)
Mr. Booze, Mr. Booze
Mr. B double Ohhh Zee EEE
That sure spells booze.
You will wind up wearing leaden shoes
If you mess with Mr. Booze.....
Don't mess with Mr. Booze, da da da
Don't mess with Mr. Booze,

If your head feel like it's ten foot wide
You'll feel better once you testify, testify, testify
-----
(slow tempo, sung by Dino while he runs the balls off a pool table)
Any man who loves his mother
Is man enough for me
Brightening her hour, sending her flowers
Though it's no anniversary
Many men love dogs and kittens
And pet them constantly
But show me a man who loves his mother
As much as she wants to be...
And I'll show you a man who's a lot like me....
----
Frank, Bing and Dino--A virtuoso performance

You've either got or you haven't got--Style
If you've got it you stand out a mile
A flower's not a flower if it's wilted
A hat's not a hat 'til it's tilted

You've either got or you haven't got--Class
How it draws the applause from the masses
When you wear lapels like the swellest of swells
You can pass any mirror and smile....

When you wear those duds
Duds with black tie and studs
Watch those dolls lining up single file.....

Some songs from "Robin and The Seven Hoods", the last so-called rat pack picture. In 1964. Lawford wasn't in it; he had been excommunicated by Sinatra after the flap about where JFK would stay in Palm Springs in 1962. Bobby didn't like Frank's mob friends so JFK stayed with Der Bingle.

God, watching the 1976 Telethon reunion of Dean and Jerry. Frank brought Dino on and the love was palpable. And other clips--Dean and the Mills Brothers, Dean and Bing, Dean and Frank, and on and on and on. Almost enough to keep on living. Almost but not quite. We hope the occasional person wondering onto this blog will click on a YouTube video of Dino. We have them on here mostly for our own amusement, but it's nice to imagine theyed might be shared once in a while.

...Once in a while will you give one little thought to me
Though someone else may be nearer you heart....

Fifth night sleeping in the car. One gets a little bit used to it. Best sleep so far, which isn't saying very much. Luckily temps are staying around 35 at night. We had the foresight a month ago when we still had some money to buy a synthetic down vest. Very comfy and warm. Feet get a little cold, what with loafers and thin ankle-high running socks. But one isn't likely to get frost bite from such limited over night cold. Can't run the car and heater indiscrimately any longer. Gas is becoming a luxury as money is, finally, running out. We still have a roll of 25 SBA dollars (Susan B. Anthony--not Students for a Better America!) and a few leftover two-dollar bills. The two-dollar bill is the prettiest currency we have. Jefferson on the front and the portrait of the singing of the Declaration of Independence on the back. Also, a few half dollars and pre-63 silver quarters, which will be parted with only at the very end. So, about forty dollars total. Oh, and we have a 25 dollar gift certficate to Chipotle that an ex-girl friend kindly gave me around X-mas. I get by eating for free--found a motel that has a nice morning breakfast that I can just slip in and out of without notice. And, of course, grocery store sampling, though I'm very careful to not overstep that priviledge. Sitting around reading a book called "The RIVALRY: Bill Russell, Wilt Chamberlain, and the Golden Age of Basketball." Title says it all. Fascinating descriptions of pro basketball in the fifties and sixties. Much more brutally physical that today's game. Less money at stake back then. I grew up as a fan of Wilt, remembering the championship with the Lakers in the early seventies.

Hillary--Didn't take voter questions campaigning in Iowa but now that she lost big is turning into a regular Oprah in New Hampshire. Too late. Hillary is done. No comeback this time. Go back home with Bill and that ugly duckling of a daughter. Little Chelsea told some junior high school journalist in Iowa to go f#ck herself. I mean, my God. You couldn't make that up. Country is, given a reasonable alternative in Obama, sick to death of Hillary and Bill. Couldn't have happened to a nicer cun....er broad. She is just not likable. The more you see of her, in those pant suits and that insincere smile, the more you dislike her. Who wants to listen to this woman for 4 or 8 years as president. Like some obnoxious older aunt (or wife or mother) that just makes your skin crawl. All politicians are piece-of-crap liers. Part of the job description. But you got to have some charm and a affable personality, at least in public. Huckabee has got that. McCain has got that. Obama is the champ in that department. I liked George Carlin's take on Bob Dole--he's full of sh&t but at least let's you know that he know and that he knows that you know. She also, to be fair, got "swift-boated" at bit. All that talk about whether the country wanted to watch Hillary grow old before our eyes. Insert here pictures of Eleanor Roosevelt and Madeline Albright. Ugh. Hillary's fall proves that there is justice after all.

Anno Domini 2008

2008-01-02T11:48:00.000-08:00

Still hanging around, for at least maybe for a little while longer. That whole straddle thing didn't come off. Suicide is a leap of faith(?) of sorts and can quite hard to actually pulloff. We may be working ourself into a bit of sleep-deprived frenzy to finally get it over with. The last two nights have been mostly without sleep, driving around in the car, managing just a few odd fitful half hours of napping in the car, trying not to freeze in the 9 degree F temps. Should be a little warmer tonight, our third in a row in the car. Just don't have anyplace to crash now. Tried our sister's motel last night but she wasn't around all night. Turns out she was there but wouldn't answer the door. Turn about is fair play. I've been a jerk to her more than once. That will be the last contact with sister though. Have a nice life and see you on the other side of eternity! No sleep, not stretching out--boy does it get to you. Fatigue-induced trance. Maybe that will do the trick. Remember that Edward Norton character in the movie(from the novel) "Fight Club". Insomnia would be the worst. We have always been lucky in not having insomnia. Now, though, it's a self-inflicted variety. Can't spend the last 45 bucks on a room. There's gas to buy and another cheap 1.75 of cheap Kentucky vodka. So maybe we can park for a few hours and get a little more sleep than the past two nights. Another night of fitful sleep and the stage is set. Lunch date tomorrow with a contractor I had dealings with. Maybe some help. What would "help" do given our terminal lethargy and inertia? Working for a living is but a distant memory. Ending it all would be so much cleaner in a way. Almost romantic. We are so emotional. We are a little proud of ourselves for not eating food left behind by people. Though we did rescue a half-full bucket of popcorn this afternoon and dumped a bunch of jalepeno(sp?) peppers in there. We still have work to do. The line between food and garbage can seem so blurred. The f*cking old house is a real bad mess. Water flooded and froze. When will the Sheriff finally get out there and take possesion. Should have kept the utilities current and stayed there. Nah, we were sick of that house. Sick of everything in it. Sick of life. When life is the disease what is the cure? Good luck to one and all trying to collect the myriad debts we owe. Again, a clean, romantic solution. Let someone else clean out this bloody car. Note on Wed night: Temps warmed up a bit and we got three or four hours of sleep in the car. Parked on a side street without incident. Now it's Thurs morning. Do we follow through with lunch with the contractor friend? There's no help for us. Park the car on the front lawn of the house we were staying at and fade to black. Give that small suburban P.D. something interesting to take care of. Probable self-inflicted fatality. Tom also knows a bit about our life so he would be a resource for the P.D. And, we don't want, really, to crash that car. Clean up the mess and return it to the owner. Get out of life with minimal complications, at least relatively speaking. There are always complications from this sort of thing.

Ah, here's another moving picture image. "Touch of Evil". Orson Welles playing border cop Hank Quinlan. A bit of mess at the end of that flick. Marlene Dietrich says simply, "He was some kind of man. What more can you say about someone?"

We just lived some sort of life, that's all. "Bad Lieutenant". Bad Buyer. Let it ride. Gotta work up a frenzy to get this thing done. Maybe a few hours more. We are curious about how Iowa will turn out.

They Shoot Horses, Don't They?

This and That, As Annonymousbuyer Enters A Likely Abbreviated Forty Eighth Year

2007-12-31T12:11:00.000-08:00

We shouldn't have asked in the first place. Hundred bucks would only have delayed the inevitable. The wife knows where she can stick that tightly rolled-up Benjamin. Dropped a last few hundred at Backhawk. Then we picked a fight with the fellow at whose house we have been staying for the past several months. The next day he invited us to leave and not return. Just go ahead and toss whatever of our stuff you were storing for me and any other odds and ends. We have no place to put it--the old long-term rental is already overflowing. And the storage area is only paid through January so all that stuff will get tossed eventually. Most of that storage room is our mother's stuff. Maybe I can contact her brothers for help.

Thanks, Tom, for the hospitality. We know we were getting on your nerves. It's cold out there and we are tapped, though. You're getting some use out of my old Buick after you invested some time and money. It's a good car for its age and mileage. Plus, you were able to salvage and clean and make a little cash from our refrigerator, dishwasher, etc. from our soon to be former house. I will miss those two cute black cats. O, well.

Guess we should have blown town a month ago before Blackhawk got to us. Nah, that would have only prolonged the inevitable.

Back last June or July we had just gotten back from Vegas, winning 28K in five days. That gave us a total of over 65K. But rather than catch our breath and consolidate, we bolted right back to Vegas a week later and, ultimately, lost the whole shootin' match. So bloody stupid. Someone THAT stupid should not be allowed to live. A lousy compulsive gambler.

A month later we were able to cobble together another smaller bankroll and headed out to LA. Lost that eventually, of course, and then travelled up the coast through Big Sur and beyond.

And then a few weeks later, mirabile scriptu, we stitched together another 4K or so and headed back to LA. Lost 2K of the 4K, then parlayed the last 2k into 20K over a couple weeks. Flying high. Played some poker with Jerry Buss, owner of the Lakers, and also James Woods, the actor. But ended up losing most of that 20K. And we saw some sights in California and Oregon. The redwoods are spectacular, as is the whole coastline for that matter.

Now we find ourself just having entered our 48th year, now REALLY tap city. What does one do? The plan was to lose everything and then dispose of this life of ours. It's very hard, though, to commit suicide. Leaving a mother and sister behind. Friends? Well, folks have their own lives. We wouldn't wish our tendency for self destruction on an enemy. It's a terrible, terrible thing to feel like ending one's life. We've just dug ourself too big a hole to climb out of. The rope, even if someone wanted to throw a lifeline, just won't reach.

Suicide is really not a big deal. Why not finish the plan? Mother is more or less happily situated. Sister Grace will have to fend for herself, which she has done over the years. We wish, of course, that we could have held on to the old City buyer job. Might have taken a month or two to recover and get well. Then look to go back to work, maybe even get rehired. Booze and gambling. Gambling and booze. Fatalistic outlook also got the better of us. Even before Jerome's leap, Dad's death--we had trouble finding that stable equilibrium, a sense of happiness. Fear of the future, of dealing with mother and sister and, even before HIS suicide, our brother always messed with us. We had many opportunities to get better but never did. One has to figure out one's way through this life. There was always a lot of guilt about the lack of success that Jerome and Grace. I went to college, got a job, all that. We had some decent chances at love but were always too much of a loner to make it work. Love created too much stress.

We've been extraordinarily lucky in a lot of ways. Health. Decent constitution in spite of being fat. Eyes still going strong at 48, though reading glasses are now advisable. Ah, the past. Memories are made of it, as Dino crooned. Finished a marathon 27 years ago in 4:04. Not too shabby for a 225 pound guy. Also got the old bench press up above 350--without a spotter, we might add. How many folks can claim BOTH a 4:04 marathon and a 350 pound bench press in the same life. What more is there, really, left to do. We've also had the good fortune to walk around the ancient Acropolis in Athens. Visited the Tower of London. Anne Frank's apartment in Amsterdam. The ruins of ancient Ephesus in Turkey. Can't see everything. Some folks try but just look silly to me. Seeing Rome, southern Italy, Sicily would have been nice. Another trip to see sites we missed in Greece the first time around. Greece could easily handle four or five trips without any danger of retracing steps. Alas, those trips will not happen.

What right do we have, what a huge conceit to even seriously entertain the taking of one's own life, to set the date and time oneself rather than let "Nature" take its course. We are just weary of it all. Tired. Too many mistakes--what's one more! Life is just killing time. And if you can't figure out a way to make it work, then so be it. There it is.

Dean Martin. Joe Namath. Johnny Cash. Movies. Television. One just grows weary of killing time. We could watch those roasts and the Dino TV show over and over again for eternity. Better to kill oneself. Get it over with. Put us out of our misery. Another statistic. How about being the last suicide of 2007 and the first of 2008. Straddle. Middle the f^cking game. Possible. An idea. Yes, we are a coward. But mostly we are just too weak to go on. We see why we must live, why we must go on. But it's just not there. It's hard to pull off a suicide, though. It took a lot of losses, gambling and otherwise. We suppose our brother's suicide set much of the course. Some things you just never get over. The guilt and self-recrimination is just too strong. Would that we had taken control of our life and held onto the job and figured it all out. I know what you might be thinking: It's still not too late. Easy for you to say. We think, unfortunately, that it is. What to do with the car? Park it or die in it? Decisions, decisions. Even in death there are decisions.

To be, or not to be? That is the question. We guess we'll go with the latter. Yadda, yadda, yadda.

Buckley's Take Is Singularly The Best, As Usual.

2007-12-30T12:53:00.000-08:00

No paragraphs really makes you work a bit, huh? At least there is still punctuation. Putin has said much the same thing about the West over the years.

Pakistan’s Blood-Stained DemocracyBy William F. Buckley Jr.

Lally Weymouth of Newsweek did a brilliant article published just two weeks before the assassination. She was in close quarters with Benazir Bhutto and then with President Musharraf. Neither one of them said anything apocalyptic, and certainly there was no indication that poised in those conventional words was the gleam of the assassin, or the fright of a victim bound. In short, from the two principals, there were no big surprises. But Ms. Weymouth’s questions were not banal, and Musharraf rewarded her with a singular frankness. This came early in the interview, when Ms. Weymouth asked him, “Do you feel you stuck your neck out for the United States after September 11 and the United States has not stood by you?” One yearns to write that the following words were “spat out,” but that much can only be inferred: “No, I don’t. I stuck out my neck for Pakistan. I didn’t stick out my neck for anyone else. It happened to be in the interest of the world and the U.S. . . . The problem with the West and your media is your obsession with democracy, civil liberties, human rights. You think your definition of all these things is [correct]. . . . Who has built democratic institutions in Pakistan? I have done it in the last eight years. We empowered the people and the women of Pakistan. We allowed freedom of expression.” Musharraf cited as an example of the bias against which he works, the coverage by the Western media of the violence at the Islamabad mosque last summer: “We took action. What did the media do about it? They showed those who took action as villains and brought those madwomen who were there on television and made heroes of them.”Weymouth then asked the sacred question: “Do you feel you could work with Benazir Bhutto?” Musharraf: “When you talk of working with her, you imply she is going to be the prime minister. Why do you imply that? I keep telling everyone we haven’t had the elections.”“Mrs. Bhutto charges that there are going to be ghost polling stations — that the voting is going to be rigged.” This brought real asperity: “. . . let her not treat everyone like herself. . . . I am not like her. I don’t believe in these things. Where’s her sense of democracy when 57 per cent of the Parliament vote for me, and she says she is not prepared to work with me . . . ?” Why, the interviewer asked Ms. Bhutto, are the terrorists so strong in Pakistan? Is it because there is support for them from the government? Ms. Bhutto: “Yes, I am shocked to see how embedded it [terrorism] is. I knew it was bad from afar. People are scared to talk. They say I am polarizing when I say militancy is a problem.” Two weeks later the lead story in the New York Times spoke of our policy as “left in ruins.” Nothing remained of “the delicate diplomatic effort the Bush administration had pursued in the past year to reconcile Pakistan’s deeply divided political factions.” Another Times reporter spoke of “the new challenge” the assassination posed to the Bush administration in its effort “to stabilize a front-line state” in the “fight against terrorism.” There are reasons to object to the repository of blame in the Bhutto situation. To the charge that there was insufficient security in Rawalpindi, nothing more needs to be said than that — yes: manifestly there was insufficient security, as there was at Ford’s Theatre in 1865, Dealey Plaza in 1963, and the hundred other places in America where mayhem has been plotted. We cannot know with any confidence just what it is that the Pakistanis have to come up with to make safe the niceties of democracy about which Musharraf speaks with understandable scorn. The scantest knowledge of Pakistani and Muslim history challenges the fatuity that this is a corner of the political world where public life can proceed with no more concern for militant interruption than would be expected in the House of Lords. The Bush administration should announce to the waiting world that the United States cannot be charged with responsibility for maintaining order in Pakistan, and does not accept responsibility for the assassination of Benazir Bhutto.
© 2007 Universal Press Syndicate

"Bad Lieutenant"

2007-12-27T12:27:00.000-08:00

We love this movie though are hardpressed to recommend it to anyone else--unless you're a dyed-in-the-wool Harvey Keitel fan--which we happen to be as well. He really is a bad lieutenant. Snortin' coke, sippin' vodka, shootin' heroin. Gamblin'. 15K lost, let it ride. 30K, let it ride. 60K, let it ride. Oops. Mets come back from an 0-3 deficit to win 4-3.

We relate since we were(are): Bad buyer, bad friend, bad brother, bad son, et cetera.

John J. Guldaman

2007-12-24T12:27:00.000-08:00

Just refuse to pay and walk away, that's what we say. We've added a contribution of about 40K in credit card debt to the problem. Not to mention, of course, the tens of thousands related to the old homestead. Guess we always wanted to gut ourself before anyone had the chance to do it. An irrational fear to be sure. So bloody sick and messed up. Someone that messed up should just blow their brains out. Someone that stupid really doesn't deserve to live, does he? Make sure you have, though, at least 5K in reserve money. That's going to be hard for many "average" Americans. Congress granted a windfall to the credit card industry in 2005 when the new bankrupcy was enacted, after that industry had thrown tens of millions in contributions to legislators. Big corporate players and individuals can bail out but not more average consumer debtors. No more easy chapter elevens, like we did back in 1990. Hear any of the major presidential candidates talking about the world-wide credit crunch? The fallen and falling dollar? Other key issues? No, just whether or not Mitt's dad actually marched with Martin Luther King, Jr. And how fast Hillary's face will fall under the stress if she is elected. Friends, a crash is coming next year, the bubble will continue bursting. Did anyone at any of the candidate 'debates' ask any question such as: "What is your take on the current world-wide credit crunch?"

We wish, sorta, that we had held on to life. We might've easily been in great shape. We WERE in great shape for many years. But, alas, it didn't work out to the better. The only question now is how is it to be done. And the timing. Christmas day might be good. Or, do we wait for our birthday a week later? We have, ourself, long ago lost contact with our fine credit card lenders. Remember 'Glengarry Glen Ross'? Early in the movie (and the play) Pacino's monologue, as Richard Roma, at the chinese restaurant: "....did you ever take a dump so big you felt like you had slept for 12 hours?". Maybe a slight paraphrase. We love to read the New York Times at a local Starbucks.0

SAN FRANCISCO - Americans are falling behind on their credit card payments at an alarming rate, sending delinquencies and defaults surging by double-digit percentages in the last year and prompting warnings of worse to come.
... analysis of financial data from the country's largest card issuers also found that the greatest rise was among accounts more than 90 days in arrears.
Experts say these signs of the deterioration of finances of many households are partly a byproduct of the subprime mortgage crisis and could spell more trouble ahead for an already sputtering economy.
"Debt eventually leaks into other areas, whether it starts with the mortgage and goes to the credit card or vice versa," said Cliff Tan, a visiting scholar at Stanford University and an expert on credit risk. "We're starting to see leaks now."

(AP) Kenneth McGuinness poses for a photograph Tuesday, Dec. 18, 2007 at his home in the Queens borough...Full ImageThe value of credit card accounts at least 30 days late jumped 26 percent to $17.3 billion in October from a year earlier at 17 large credit card trusts examined by the AP. That represented more than 4 percent of the total outstanding principal balances owed to the trusts on credit cards that were issued by banks such as Bank of America and Capital One and for retailers like Home Depot and Wal-Mart.
At the same time, defaults - when lenders essentially give up hope of ever being repaid and write off the debt - rose 18 percent to almost $961 million in October, according to filings made by the trusts with the Securities and Exchange Commission.
Serious delinquencies also are up sharply: Some of the nation's biggest lenders - including Advanta, GE Money Bank and HSBC - reported increases of 50 percent or more in the value of accounts that were at least 90 days delinquent when compared with the same period a year ago.
The AP analyzed data representing about 325 million individual accounts held in trusts that were created by credit card issuers in order to sell the debt to investors - similar to how many banks packaged and sold subprime mortgage loans. Together, they represent about 45 percent of the $920 billion the Federal Reserve counts as credit card debt owed by Americans.
Until recently, credit card default rates had been running close to record lows, providing one of the few profit growth areas for the nation's banks, which continue to flood Americans' mailboxes with billions of letters monthly offering easy sign-ups for new plastic.

Even after the recent spike in bad loans, the credit card business is still quite lucrative, thanks to interest rates that can run as high as 36 percent, plus late fees and other penalties.
But what is coming into sharper focus from the detailed monthly SEC filings from the trusts is a snapshot of the worrisome state of Americans' ability to juggle growing and expensive credit card debt.
The trend carried into November. As of Friday, all of the trusts that filed reports for the month show increases in both delinquencies and defaults over November 2006, and many show sequential increases from October.
Discover accounts 30 days or more delinquent jumped 25,716 from November 2006 and had increased 6,000 between October and November this year.
Many economists expect delinquencies and defaults to rise further after the holiday shopping season. ....Mark Zandi, chief economist and co-founder of Moody's Economy.com Inc., cited mounting mortgage problems that began after this summer's subprime financial shock as one of the culprits, as well as a weakening job market in the Midwest, South and parts of the West, where real-estate markets have been particularly hard hit.
"Credit card quality will continue to erode throughout next year," Zandi said.
Economists also cite America's long-standing attitude that debt - even high-interest credit card debt - is not a big deal.
"The desires of consumers to want, want, want, spend, spend, spend - it's the fabric of our nation," said Howard Dvorkin, founder of Consolidated Credit Counseling Services in Fort Lauderdale, Fla., which has advised more than 5 million people in debt. "But you always have to pay the piper, and that can be a very painful process."
Filing for bankruptcy is no longer a solution for many Americans because of a 2005 change to federal law that made it harder to walk away from debt. Those with above-average incomes are barred from declaring Chapter 7 - where debts can be wiped out entirely - except under special circumstances and must instead file a repayment plan under the more restrictive Chapter 13.
Personal finance coaches say the problem is most grave for individuals who are months delinquent or already in default - like Kenneth McGuinness, a postal clerk from Flushing, N.Y.
His credit card struggles began nine years ago, when he charged his son's college tuition and books. He thought he was being clever: His credit card's 6 percent "teaser" interest rate was lower than the 8.6 percent interest on a college loan.
McGuinness, 61, soon began using Citibank and Chase cards for food, dental work and copays on doctor visits and minor surgeries. Interest rates surged to 30 percent. Now he's $37,000 in debt and plans to file for bankruptcy in February.
"I tried to pay what I could and go after the high-interest accounts first," McGuinness said. "But it just kept getting higher and higher, and with late charges and surcharges I was going backward."
In the wake of the jump in defaults on subprime mortgage loans made to borrowers with poor credit histories, banks have been less willing to allow consumers to consolidate credit card debt into home equity loans or refinanced mortgages. That is leaving some with no option but to miss payments, economists said.
Investors also are backing away from buying securitized credit-card debt, said Moshe Orenbuch, managing director at Credit Suisse. But that probably has more to do with concerns about the overall health of the U.S. economy, he said.
"It's been getting tougher to finance any kind of structured finance - mortgages, automobile loans, credit cards, student loans," said Orenbuch, who specializes in the credit industry.
Capital One Financial Corp. (COF) (COF) reported that delinquencies and defaults are highest in regions where troubled mortgages are concentrated, including California and Florida.
Among the trusts examined, Bank of America Corp. (BAC) (BAC) had the highest delinquency volume, with overdue accounts valued at $5 billion. Bank of America defaults in October were almost 200 percent higher than in October 2006.
A spokesman for Charlotte, N.C.-based Bank of America declined to comment.
Other trusts - including those linked to Capital One, American Express Co. (AXP), Discover Financial Services Co. and those containing "branded" cards from Wal-Mart Stores Inc. (WMT), Home Depot Inc. (HD), Lowe's Companies Inc., Target Corp. (TGT) and Circuit City Stores Inc. (CC) - also reported striking increases in year-over-year delinquency and default rates for October. Most banks and other financial institutions holding credit card debt on their own books also reported double-digit increases in delinquencies.
The one exception in October was JPMorgan Chase & Co. (JPM)'s credit card trust, which reported declines in both delinquencies and defaults. A Chase spokesperson attributed this to its focus on prime borrowers and aggressive account management.
By contrast, Capital One executives told analysts last month that the company projected 2008 write-offs of credit card debt to be at least $4.9 billion. This projection, analysts were told, took into account growing delinquencies and potential effects if the housing market continued its downward slide.
Capital One spokeswoman Julie Rakes said the increase in delinquencies could be due to an accounting change last summer, which shortened the grace period between when statements were issued and the due date.
Capital One also reported that the number of accounts 90 days or more in arrears had increased between October and November. More than 1.2 million of Capital One's 30 million accounts were either delinquent or in default.
Many personal financial coaches expect this trend to accelerate in 2008 - particularly among people who took out untraditional loans whose interest rate has risen, requiring owners to pay mortgages several hundred dollars more than just a year ago.
"You're looking at more and more distress - consumers desperately trying to preserve their credit lines, but there's nowhere else to go," said Robert Manning, director of the Center for Consumer Financial Services at Rochester Institute of Technology. "It's like a game of dominoes."

A Short Story?

2007-12-21T10:32:00.001-08:00

It occurred to us this morning whether anyone had ever written a short story about a severely messed up fellow, a losing poker player and alcoholic, who ends up renting a car and then keeping that car as if he owned it? This fellow had intended to off himself and the car in California but then ended up back home as a beggar--but still with the car. He changed the oil and rotated the tires. Even drifting through the occasional car wash. Ever notice how much better a car drives after a good washing? Ah, but the tags were expiring as New Year's Eve/birthday approached. He also, alas, was overstaying his welcome at an acquaintence's run-down hovel of a house. And, to be honest, he was getting sick himself of this friend and that house. It's no fun to be a beggar. Better dead than beg. Cute. Just wondering if anyone had written a story along these lines.

Choices. Does one stay and watch "Magnolia" again or hustle off to the library to continue reading an interesting biography of Groucho Marx? We chose the latter. "Respect the C*ck. Tame the C*nt."

This fellow with the car--grand theft auto? What was he doing? Was he trying to out-irresponsible his sister? Where was his urge to struggle on and overcome his recent self-inflicted wounds? He seemed not to know. The life he lived when he was employed seems like such a distant memory. He had loved that life in many, many ways. But that life was also doomed to expire. Drinking in the morning on the way to work, and then at work. Hard to sustain. He didn't have cable or internet at home, all the better for motivation to go to work every day. How long could that motivation be sustained? Turns out just the other side of twenty years. Why stuggle anymore now that all that life has now vanished? Even the house is in the final stages...the Sheriff may be on the way now....He had some fun, it can't be denied. Fifteen thousand dollar online pots. Similiar live action pots. But it could not be sustained. Play carelessly with fire long enough and you get burned. Such a trite truism. Did he have the will and the guts that his brother exhibited ten years ago? Getting out, finally, before the year's end seemed, somehow, poetic. By what means though? Leap? Interred with the car? Combination including the car? Well, he would think about it later. Now, as the snow fell heavily, he would check in on sister and his kitty....

Birthday Greetings

2007-12-19T16:08:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday, Mother. We may still make it over there later this evening to see you, but we must avoid to the admin folks who would have left for the day.

Guess we have sorta mucked everything up, haven't we? We were, at least for twenty years, hanging onto that long-time City job, a great job but also one that had finally gotten to us. But, alas, we were not taking some of the steps necessary to get healthy--stopping the booze at work (after, to be fair, fair warning), dealing with the gambling bug, catching up at our house, dealing with getting mother situated. Then the move upstairs at WMD cracked our routine. Basic cable TV from the conference room ended. Oh, how we loved coming down and watching Gunsmoke and TCM on weekends. Could've turned the move into a blessing if we had just made the adjustment to a more normal and accepted workplace modus vivendi. Blowing the 60K from the second refi. Blowing another 50K borrowed from deferred comp in early 2007. On tilt with on-line poker. Familiar faces retiring. Situation with mother and sister feeling like the breaking point. The DUI. 10th anniversary of brother's leap from the parking garage my office window looked out at for ten years. Staying on 4th floor at 777 another week or so this past April might have been well-advised. Another week to continue staying away from old habits, clear my head. Maybe figure a way to do family medical and hit the road and clear our head. No guarantees that job would still be there, but it would have been worth a try. Get more bang for that three hundred co-payment buck. Good luck, by the way, trying to collect that baby. There was just some mental health work to be done and we didn't do it. We are still not doing it. Is there still time? Best piece of advice we've gotten in the last few months is to just "give yourself a chance." A very wise lady said that, and we thank her. We wonder if typing these words is therapeutic? At a minimum it gives one a chance to write and type a little. And get's us over to a library for a change.

Pinter's "The Homecoming"

2007-12-17T19:05:00.000-08:00

We think this would be a play worth driving all the way to NYC to see. Alas, the money is now mostly gone. Ian McShane and the rest. Pinter's "The Homecoming". Never heard of it before now.

http://theater2.nytimes.com/2007/12/17/theater/reviews/17home.html?th&emc=th

One finds it increasingly hard to scribble these dispatches. The end seems closer than ever. We won't complain. We've had our moments, chances to hang onto a decent stake, but the compulsion to lose is just too overwhelming. Of course, that's the whole point: Winning would mean to having to go on, and THAT we don't really want to do. These things are always a mystery anyway. Some end up being just bigger mysteries than others. Same old story, just another iteration--gambling, booze, food, laziness, terminal inertia. The last two, we suppose, are the same: Sloth. They aren't just whistlin' dixie when they write about those seven sins as being deadly.

We dropped by the Colorado Train Museum today. Lot's of tears. Our father was the son of a boiler-maker in Wichita. He loved trains, especially the old steam locomotives. He worked as an industrial insurance inspector for many decades with what was then called Kemper. I think he was also certified to inspect some nuclear stuff as well. I regret that I didn't fully debrief dad before his death in 1995 at a diner in Switzerland during a trip focused on trains.

Well mother seems OK, comfortable. Sister Grace now has my (brother's) kitty cat and also seems OK. Maybe we just wanted to see some stability. We are the only decidedly not OK--at least in this life. What was remaining of the money is mostly gone. Work is but a distant memory. Just playing out the string. Perhaps the little long-term rental car will be our tomb?

Heard dear Mayor Hick on KOA. Talking about tough love for the homeless. One can only imagine how distorted are those homeless statistics that hizzoner throws out. We suppose tough love might be the only cure for anonymousbuyer. It also might a cure worse than the disease. Which statistic do we want to be? I used to have that structure that a job confers. Used to....

It HAS been a good run. Pity to think about ending just short of the dawn of our forty eighth year. Movies, books. All ultimately meaningless. Like television, just another way to kill time.

The play "Becket" is an interesting read. The movie understandable is quite faithful to the play. Fun reading the play in the voices of O'Toole and Burton. Becket was a man searching for meaning and he found it in God.

Goosebump moments:
----KOA playing "Houston" by Dean Martin on the day of Thursday's Bronco game in Houston.
----Irv and Joe and Jim on 950thefan: Joe mentioning Merle Haggard's song"I Take A Lot of Pride in What I Am". Also the title of a Dino album and a great cover version of that song.

Watched Dean and Jerry in "At War With The Army" this morning. Dean is and was everything. That'll be the hardest thing to let go of, but we're close....

Reading a Robert Mitchum bio at Tattered. Very interesting fellow. Born same year as Dino and died two years later, in 1987. "Five Card Stud" is an all-time favorite.

We went through the book "1001 Movies To See Before You Die". We tallied it up and it turns out we've seen about 225 from the list. We wonder if you could get all of them from netflix? Quite a few relatively obscure silents and foreign films. A few worthy favorites of ours, however, didn't make the list: House of Games, A Face In The Crowd, Ace In The Hole, Romance (French). "Airport" is worth seeing and it's on cable all the time. The Young Lions, Some Came Running. The Spy Who Came In From The Cold. Becket. The Killing. Cannonball Run 2. As we leafed through all those movies we were reminded of the year we saw a particular movie at the Mayan or Chez Artiste. I remember seeing Pulp Fiction four or five times. Mulholland Drive, same thing. And "Memento" was worth seeing more than once.

Floating About

2007-12-16T15:12:00.000-08:00

We actually read a book last night--start to finish. Double Indemnity, the 1936 roman noir by James M. Cain that the movie was based on. Fascinating to see how differently the book turns out. The movie is one of our all-time favorites, having seen it at least a dozen times. In the book the Stanwyck character is much more evil. And the ending is a complete departure from the movie. Hollywood couldn't let them get away with the murder.

Found some other goodies at the house along with the Sheriff's notice. MAD magazine from 1973 with a parody of the TV show Cannon. They called it Cannonball. We were a big fan of William Conrad growing up. Also turns out he was on the Dean Martin Show quite a lot.

We've relocated our cat, 'Ole Lady, to our sister's motel room. It's been a couple days and she is adjusting to the confined space and the other cat. Not an ideal solution but we had to get her away from the house, which will be gone in matter of a week or two at latest. End of a process. Should have had sister living there last few months and saved on motel rent. Oh, well.....add that the the long list of mistakes. The end game is approaching for us. Mother got approved for Medicaid at the nursing home but they want to bill her retroactively for her portion of the expenses. It's fairly trivial amounts, but that bread is long gone.

Abruzzo--Dino Paul Crocetti

2007-12-10T13:26:00.000-08:00

The most expensive olive oil at Wholefoods is a brand called Agramato. It's pressed with tangerines and sells for almost three cents an ounce. It's imported from the Abruzzo region of Italy, which is straight across Italy from Rome on the Adriatic side. It's also the region from which Dean Martin's father and uncles emigrated to the United States, from Montesilvano on the coast in the early twentieth century.

We've recovered a few important books. Complete Handbook of Greek Verbs. 201 Latin Verbs.
The Greek verbs brings back memories of cramming and trying (unsucessfully) to finally pass second semester Classical Greek at CU. My tenure at CU callibrated to those attempts. I had passed Greek 101 one fall on the second try, or was it the third? Then Greek 102 always followed in the spring. Always five classes per week at 9:00 a.m. Ugh. Who can get up that early for a class? I was enrolled in Greek 102 during the spring of my eighth year and was about to fail it for the third time. That's when it occurred to me to just withdraw from the whole semester and graduate. It was a lovely time to be at CU. I could never leave because they would never have let me back in. Eight years was enough, and only three in base two. I occasionally have sleep dreams of being back on the campus and running around and so forth. Out of sixteen total semesters, six were fairly solid with one or two other semesters decent. The first two years were the solid foundation upon which I constructed latter zero point zero efforts, ala Mr. Blutarsky.

Dean Martin and Jean-Paul Belmondo

2007-12-04T17:56:00.002-08:00

Just wanted to see those two names together. Watched the original "Breathless" and wondered whether that character's fate might foreshadow my own? They are also connected through Jean Seberg, who co-starred in both "Breathless" with Jean-Paul and 1970's "Airport" with Dean Martin. The latter was Seberg's final major film. Some years later she committed suicide.

2007-12-04T17:56:00.001-08:00

Gambling for me is a means to an end. Losing is a sure-fire way towards desparate suicidal feelings. Booze never does that for me; its impact, rather, is to slightly enhance my already mauldlin and emotional reaction to life, to movies, to memories, to visiting the cats and dogs at the shelters. Gambling was the means that drove me to quit my job. Booze would never have accomplished that.

We saw a story in The Times about the late Judge Manzanares and his wife's lawsuit over his suicide. Seems she and her brother-in-law want to hold the Jeffco DA, et al. accountable. Good luck. The only individual responsible for that suicide died during the act. Must everyone be a victim?

Indifference

2007-11-30T10:11:00.000-08:00

"The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference." - Elie Wiesel

Isn't THAT the truth. Very Christian sentiment, what with Jesus (through John in Apocalypsos) admonishing the luke-warm faithfull at one of those seven churches, I forget which, in ancient Turkey.

It's been my sin, indifference that is. An economic term for me. Economics is interested in what choices rational consumers are indifferent about. A movie costing ten bucks or a book costing the same. That sort of thing. 'Revealed preference' is the phrase I'm thinking of as well.

For the record, I've passed all the C.P.M. modules and qualify for a Lifetime C.P.M. designation. I may not, however, get around to sending in the paperwork.

Saw the movie 'A Face In The Crowd' last night. Andy Griffith and Patricia Neal and an excellant Walter Matthau in a supporting role. This is a very relevant movie today. I guess one could say it's Andy Griffith in a sort of Elmer Gantry type role. Terrific commentary on politics and TV and the fragility of fame and popularity. No one has seen it.

The end may be coming for me. Don't even know if I want to hit the road again. House is going away, finally, sometime early next month. Might try to take Kitty ('Ole Lady') to the Dumb Friend's League. Or may have to just let her fend for herself with the occasional help of strangers. I've sat with Kitty in front of a blazing fire lately. Made me think how lucky I had been but just couldn't see it. I had a life worth preserving but just threw it away with gambling and booze and chronic inertia, which preceeded the gambling and booze. Of course that begs the question: Isn't this life NOW worth preserving. Perhaps. But too much may have been lost. And I'm satisfied that things are stable. My mother is well cared for. My sister will have to fend for herself as always. 47 has seemed at times both very old and very young. What more is there to do, though? Why shouldn't I bring it to an end?

The most common answer is that I don't have the right. It's a good answer but not entirely sufficient. Maybe just drive to I-O-Way and watch some campaigning. Might be fun and I have always wanted to do it.

Marcus Aurelius Antonius Oswaldus

2007-11-20T09:24:00.000-08:00

My boy hit a thirty yarder at Legacy. I sucked. Groove was not working apparently. Oh, well, I've still got the forty two yarder at TJ from last week. Nice making contact with another old AEPi frat brother.

Caught a bit of the network evening news last night, just prior to the Broncos game. These drug commercials are disgusting. They had a new one for some new drug for chronic constipation. If you're only 'going' two or three times a week this will boost you to five or six. Of course diarrhea(sp?) is one of the side effects. Whatever happened to fiber, good diet, exercise and sleep?

We are getting the urge to bolt to Vegas and bet it all. Rotated the tires and got an oil change. Also a new air filter. Ready to go as another Thanksgiving beckons.....

TJ 42 yarder

2007-11-15T14:40:00.000-08:00

Well, we hit a 42 yarder at the gorgeous Thomas Jefferson HS field. The team was gracious enough to let me attempt a few at the opposite end of the field. Then I fled, lest I overstay my welcome. A perfect 42 yarder. Missed at 47 but who cares?

Sister had fifteen hundred from my mother for the first half of November. Guess it's all gone now. Tough luck. Manage the largesse better next time around.

I may head out again with a small stake. Sopranos dream episode last night. Had a similiar dream myself. Not Tony's Coach Molinaro dream. Mine involves CU and the crunch of finals....

"Another Day, Another Chance"--Bo Place

2007-11-09T14:28:00.000-08:00

Ah, we dropped by old Place Middle School (known as "Junior High" back in my day). Sipped cheap vodka and roamed the halls a bit. We thought we wanted to try climbing the ropes. Alas, we found now ropes in the gymnasia. Walked across the stage in the auditorium, the same stage on which we perfomed 'Big Bad John' all those decades ago.

Our kitty cozied up a little bit today for the first time. She came in the foreclosed house and jumped on the half wall near the entrance. Sweet kitty whom our brother had named 'Ole Lady. Almost thirteen now. She'll have a new home soon.

Hit field goals of 27 and 32 yards at GW yesterday. Straight-on placekicking is harder than it looks, especially for an out of shape forty seven year old. We're going back today and try to break 40 yards. We watched GW practice. Very funny to behold. My only thought was how much more fun football and track would have been with grain spirits! And see our mother and take her some tabloids.

O.J. looks pretty good twelve years on. Is 'poetic justice' the phase? Surely not irony.

Nada

2007-11-08T14:50:00.000-08:00

I didn't know today was Thursday. Would have sworn it was Wednesday. The days just meld into each other....like sand through an hourglass, these are the Days of Our Lives......

I spoke with a few frat brothers from the old Boulder days. House going away is in the final stages. Nashville beckons....

Utah.....Brilliant

2007-10-25T11:26:00.000-07:00

After catching some sleep the past two nights in the renegade rental car, we took a night near Grand Junction at a hotel. It ate up the last of the credit card. We watched the Rockies. Pity they lost, but watching Josh Beckett is amazing. Rockies have a chance of surprising but I wouldn't bet that way.

My sister called me on the cell phone last night at 3:00 A.M. For some reason I left it on and laying on the other bed in the motel room. God bless her. And God bless my mother. They'll both be fine. I guess I should have disappeared for a few months years ago. Twenty-twenty hindsight, huh? She understands, I think, how important I was to the whole equation. Ah, too little too late. I'm tempted to check out the old house tonight. Down to my last hundred so I may as well blow into Denver.

You know I've had a good run. Lot of great moments with the City, playing poker, dating. Had some shots at online poker. The booze always got in the way, with poker and the City. But, leaving the job was the final nail in the coffin. I had a shot in early April to turn it around. Get help, dry out, straighten out. I passed. As long as I can get some money the lure of poker beckoned. So it goes.

It was all part of the plan though wasn't it? Lose money, discard the job, suicide. It's about the pain of living. The lack of courage to go on. Coward? Most definitely. But, yet, if it's not meant to be then it's not meant to be. I've lived to see the Rockies play in a World Series. I've been wanting to die for twenty years or more. The plan is working. LOL.

Anonymousbuyer, alas, is a terrible friend. He finds it nigh impossible to ask for help from frat buddies, college buddies, etc. It would just prolong the pain of living. Grace, my sister, be strong as I am unable. Good luck. I may see tonight's game 2. Unfortunately, just as the Rockies were locks againt Philly and Arizona, the Sox are locks against the Rockies. I hope I'm wrong.

Nevada State Highway 50

2007-10-23T12:27:00.000-07:00

Well, we drove almost one thousand miles in the last day. Southern Oregon to eastern Nevada. Highway 50 is the shorter way to Colorado if you're heading towards Denver. And it is desolate. They call it the "Loneliest Road in America", or something like that. We find a brilliant beauty in all that desolation, literally a straight ribbon of road stretching out before you. Interrupted by the occasional pass. Guess we can make it back to Denver, but it will be close. Down to our last couple hundred. Yet ending the enterprise, careening off into some abyss, still beckons like a siren's call. It's sad to comtemplate such a fate. I've really screwed things up mightily. Still, though, there is hope....

It's been a blast (I think)

2007-10-22T09:26:00.000-07:00

Thanks much to everyone. The Pacific coast is lovely this time of year.

California

2007-09-03T14:50:00.000-07:00

One is struck by the agriculture. These lush plots of green who knows what. You see some crops being picked by crews of migrants. Spinach, lettuce, avacado orchards. Just quite beautiful to see. Then one is reminded of the immigration debate. The US through salutary neglect allowed all these folks into the country. And the crops have to be picked. Other work has to be done. And now we are letting the Mexican trucking industry have carte blanche. Let's get real. It's all part of the strategy towards a North American Union, ala, the EU. No one talks about it but it's a fait accompli. Houses are a riot. Stuff in Denver going for 300K at most is listing for twice that in California. I could have found some cheap rental stuff, though, and enjoyed a few years.

I'm also struck by how clean the highways are. And the courtesy of drivers. As I've occasionally lurched from one lane to another while taking a swig of Highland Stag scotch whiskey, no one has been discourteous. I suppose I might be able to buy some time with credit cards. But I don't know. The time is winding down. I've blown too much money. I don't know what I would do if I came back to Denver. No where to go. I wouldn't impose. Let's make a clean break. I've disappeared--probably what I've always wanted. No burdens, seemingly. Well, I've got to go. Great to find a FedEx in Santa Maria for 20 cents a minute. Holiday Inn Expresses have terminals for free when they can found.

Floating around CA 101

2007-09-03T13:37:00.000-07:00

Ah, we headed back north yesterday. Just can't seem to turn the old car back in. The PCH can be pretty jammed up on a Sunday. Stayed at a lovely motel called Skyview off the 101 after you get off the 154, near Santa Barbara, which is a pass over the Santa Ynez. I think that's where Reagan had his ranch all those years. Lovely motel. Great bed and exquisite sheets. And the same price as some retched Motel 6! Pity I'm running out of resources otherwise would have stayed several days. We saw some good spots on the Santa Ynez to take a driving plunge. It's a terrible thing to contemplate one's own demise. But I'm just not up to coming back and facing the music. There's also little to come back to. I wouldn't put my situation into anyone's hands--even folks I felt were good friends. Everyone has there own life to lead. It's up to me to figure this life thing out. And if I don't, well, so be it. So much money blown at poker. Finally threw my job away. Life goes on. Like Orson Welles in "The Third Man", we are just little dots and what does it matter. I'll miss Kitty, though. I wonder what she is up to these days? Am I a coward and all those other things? Let others make those judgements. In a sense we've gotten to exactly where we aimed for. Suicide. All those radio commercials about drinking and driving--I'm too good at it. Stay in your lane and watch for the Highway Patrol. I like to toast them as they fly past me, or vice versa. Vegas last summer was a fluke. I guess in the final analysis I'm a coward, a scofflaw, a real piece of shit. But I can't cope with no money and no prospects. An aside: How about those folks in the FEMA trailers reeking of formaldahyde who also have toys with lead paint from China? Who the hell licks their toys anyway? Shouldn't parents teach their kids not to lick their toys? How did I survive being born in 1959 with all the lead paint, with the lack of bicycle helmuts? It boggles the mind. I had thought that once or twice I had done a good bid for the City. But I now realize that was ridiculous. I was a terrible employee who occasionally earned his keep. A good buyer but a terrible employee. I've passed all 4 modules. Any chance of getting a posthumous C.P.M.? A drop from the Santa Ynez beckons. Good luck, Grace. Nothing personal--it's just about me. I just wasn't up to conquering poker and booze. So it goes.......

Scotch-drenched on the 101

2007-09-01T21:32:00.000-07:00

We are back in San Luis Obispo, having scooted down the 101 from Watsonville. Passed out in the car at a Kinkos. Darned vodka and xanax. We have several more hours to drive towards LA. Wonder if we have some flexibility with a couple credit cards we've never used? Occasionally, the fifth of vodka/scotch gets to me and it's scary. Mostly, though, we throttle back and are fine after a good night's sleep. Is the house now gone? Or is there more process in the foreclosure? Have lost interest in my belongings. Haven't even listened to my i-pod on this trip. O, well. Do we have the will to follow through and shuffle off this mortal coil? I don't know. Mother will be fine now. My sister will struggle through. As it turns out, and as I always sorta knew, I am the weakest. No will to live or persevere (endeavor to persever!) LOL. Funny how life can go. Too much to deal with and face. Too hard to start over. It's been a good run, as 47 year runs go. How many can say they finished a 26.2 mile footrace in 4 hours 4 minutes? And also seen the Parthenon in Athens, Greece. And ancient Ephesos. And a few other Greek isles. Madrid, London, Nerja in the south of Spain. Ah, that lovely suite in Nerja that hung over the Mediterranean, the surf pounding the rocks. Just lovely to recall. Alexander never got back to Macedonia. He was on an open-jawed tour of conquest. And died before he had to make it all work.

Patrick J. Buchanan

2007-09-01T13:30:00.000-07:00

Someone whom I shall dearly miss reading. A columnist with a sense of history and just plain common sense and logic. I think of him as a worthy successor to Mr. Buckley.

http://www.humanevents.com/article.php?id=22186

Post Scriptum

2007-08-31T12:17:00.000-07:00

Ending on Diana's anniversary might be the slightest bit poetic. We see clearly now how things should have happened. Taken a medical leave and gotten my wits back and my mental health. Then gone back to work. All I needed was a break to deal with the booze and gambling. Mr Booze! Trying to keep it at a pint a day but it can get up to a fifth. Some days even scare me--at least the day after. Vodka. Found a cheap Scotch whiskey I like--Highland Stag. Too much booze. But I also do love it in the morning. So messed up........

More Big Sur

2007-08-31T11:53:00.000-07:00

We seem to be driving up and down the PCH in Big Sur. Went back down a few days ago. Drove back up last night. Discovered a Galaga/Ms Pacman 20th anniversary machine at Fernwood (Tonight?). Ah, we do love Galaga! Stayed just north of Monterey in Marina. Nice, older motel with a full cable offering. Motel 6 is just the pits. The expectations are the lowest and always fail to meet them. How about Senator Craig? Couldn't he have been Seinfeldian since the gig was up and he's history. Like, "I'm not gay--not that there's anything wrong with that!" If you're going down at least inject some humour. He and Tom Foley ought to go on tour together. But it fairness, Craig could be wrongly accused. From my own personal experience, I can't count the times I've been in an airport restroom and touched feet with someone in the next stall. Excuse me and that's it. Even tapping one's feet to some showtune. Been there and done that. And did you hear that Nike is now coming out with a new Mike Vick athletic turf shoe. It's got a reinforced steel toe to prevent "turf toe" injuries and also to make it easier to kick dogs and other animals with out injury. It's an odd thing to contemplate offing oneself. I seem to be putting it off. Life though is this meaningless quotidian struggle, at least from my perspective. I know I'm screwed up. But I've blown so much money and don't want to face the consequences. Certainly a coward. Not doing it "show" anyone anything. It's just about me and my personal blackhole. Money will run out soon. O, hey, I did eat at Da Vinci's in Beverly Hills (Santa Monica and Wilshire) at the Dean Martin booth. It was quite the experience. I got there early and was the only dinner patron in the place for over an hour. There's a picture of Dino hanging over the booth. At the Paley museum of TV on Beverly Drive I have seen all the old Dino they had that I hadn't yet seen. A couple complete variety shows. Some other stuff. So the Dino pilgrammage is complete. Guess we'll continue to mosey on up the PCH toward San Fran and see what happens. Sorry Grace and Mother (and others) that I've disappeared. In a strange sense though I've never been happier as I think about the end.

Big Sur

2007-08-28T12:44:00.000-07:00

Drove north from LA through Big Sur last night. Stayed the night in Monterey. Had the road to myself for the most part. Hope to drive back south and catch the stunning views during suntime. Funny, I pulled off at an inn and, silly me, thought about getting a room. Only $850 and $1000. Lovely couple, though, taking a nude swim in the clothing-optional pool! I fear we are starting to stretch our supply lines (think Alexander the Great). Alexander never returned to home to Macedonia. Lead his army to the eastern Pakistan and then died in Babylon. Lucky to find a computer at a Holiday Inn Express just north of Monterey. Guess we'll head back south and take in some sights. San Francisco may not be in the cards. Some lovely departure points in Big Sur. Flying leap and all that, maybe even with the car. Several dreams about the old job. Funny that, the dream world. Would that we had planned a sabbatical and had something to come back to. But then that's the point: Maybe we didn't want anything to come back to! Just drift around a bit and then the old "Ave et Vale". Good for you Krissy. Good luck with Joe, or whoever follows. You deserve happiness and stability. Kate, thanks for everything.

Dino at Grauman's

2007-08-21T01:53:00.002-07:00

We swung by Grauman's Chinese Theatre tonight to see if we could find Dean Martin's spot. After much searching we found him back from the sidewalk and towards the left side as you face the theatre. Jimmy Stewart is directly below him. Really quite a charming attraction. Dino's hands are almost as big as mine, just huge. Just signed his name and wrote "Thanks". We're guessing that Dino didn't really know or give two fucks about Sid Grauman. Peter Sellers is adjacent on the right.

Becoming a bit of a routine. Swinging out towards the beach--tonight it was Venice--then up PCH to Sunset. Re-stock booze at Von's. Then cruising up Sunset towards Hollywood. Venice was interesting. Found a good piece of barbeque chicken pizza just laying there on top of some trash. At first glance it looked like a plate of dog food. Very good, though.

Prospects still fairly dim in Tap City. But we did win about fifteen hundred today after getting almost the last of the money from checking and credit cards. Don't know what to do with the rental car. May keep it for a few more days......

2007-08-21T01:53:00.001-07:00

Dino Pilgrammage----To Live and Die In LA

2007-08-19T01:46:00.000-07:00

We finally tracked down Dino's three stars on Hollywood Blvd. Did that tonight a few hours ago. Mixed and mingled with the locals. Found some very good pizza in a trash can as well as a little left-over chinese. Now that we are Tap City we better get used to the idea!

Dean Martin's walk of fame stars for television and motion pictures are on the north side of Hollywood going east from Cherokee. The star commemorating his recording career is on the west side of Vine a block south of Hollywood Blvd, just down the street from the famous Capitol Records building. There was also a delightful portrait of Dean on a roll-down gate on Hollywood Blvd. There are dozens of such portraits on both sides of Hollywood Blvd. Quite charming. And by the way, I found Hollywood Blvd. clean and civilized--more so than even the Mile High City's Sixteenth Street Mall, which is a disgrace.

We also ate at Hamburger Hamlet on Sunset on Friday night. Was that one or two nights ago. It's all becoming a fog. Dino was a regular there on Sunday nights for many years. I was sat at the table they said Dino sat at. Who knows, really, but it was quite an emotional experience.

The only thing really left is to find Dino's footprints at Grauman's. Maybe we'll do that tomorrow--later today. Then, what to do? We took the boat ride to Catalina a few days ago. One could just slip off and be lost at sea. Don't chat with the boat crew about such ideas--they put you a suicide watch. I still have a little money left--a few thousand. And another couple thou from the credit cards on Monday. Hard to see coming back. To live and die in LA......

Swept Away!

2007-08-08T20:59:00.000-07:00

http://www.rockymountainnews.com/drmn/local/article/0,1299,DRMN_15_5663444,00.html

Mandelbrot Set Zoom

2007-08-08T00:43:00.001-07:00

Well, No Shit--The Bridge Collapse Was No Tradedy. Just Probabilistic.

2007-08-06T12:00:00.000-07:00

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/08/06/us/06collapse.html?ex=1186977600&en=c274053ca9226b56&ei=5123&partner=BREITBART

It's not just about the steroids

2007-08-06T11:53:00.000-07:00

Our prediction: Barry Bonds will break the homerun record and then sometime later be indicted for purjury. And it's all for naught since A-Rod will shatter the record in the middle of the next decade.

http://www.editorandpublisher.com/eandp/news/article_display.jsp?vnu_content_id=1003621797

Why Are So Many Americans In Prison?

2007-08-06T11:22:00.000-07:00

http://bostonreview.net/BR32.4/loury.html

A long piece worth reading. We read (or, at least, were assigned to read John Rawls "A Theory of Justice" in a law school class we attended before withdrawing and graduating. Our own theory has to do with something called Say's Law: All the prison building has created a demand to fill those prisons. A great tragedy and stain on American society.

Say's Law is the principle that supply constitutes demand. Or, in the words of economist Jean Baptiste Say, "...a product is no sooner created, than it, from that instant, affords a market for other products to the full extent of its own value." (A TREATISE ON POLITICAL ECONOMY, Chapter 15). Or, "you must sell before you are able to buy".
J.B.Say (1767-1832) is the French economist who coined the word entrepreneur to describe an economic agent independent from the landlord, worker or even capitalist (since the entrepreneur may secure financing from others). Say wrote his TREATISE to counter the Mercantilist doctrine that money is the source of wealth. According to Say, goods buy goods, and money mediates the transaction: "It is not the abundance of money but the abundance of other products in general that facilitates sales." James Mill expanded on Say's argument in his book COMMERCE DEFENDED to counter the belief that underconsumption is the cause of economic recession -- and to counter the belief that increased consumption is the remedy for recession. Say incorporated Mill's ideas in subsequent editions of his TREATISE. Say was emphatic that consumption destroys wealth and that only production creates wealth.
Thomas Malthus was the foremost classical economist who promoted the idea that underconsumption causes recession. Malthus blamed the wealthy for saving rather than spending. David Ricardo, in answering Malthus, invoked J.B.Say to write: "The shoemaker when he exchanges his shoes for bread has an effective demand for bread." Ricardo attributed post-war depression & unemployment to a mismatch of supply & demand, rather than to underconsumption.
Classical economics incorporated the ideas of Say, Mill and Ricardo rather than Malthus in its body of wisdom. These ideas were augmented by John Stewart Mill who emphasized the role of savings rather than consumption in wealth-creation when he said: "...to consume less than is produced, is saving; and that is the process by which capital is increased."
The beliefs of Malthus were revived during the Great Depression of the 1930s by John Maynard Keynes in his book THE GENERAL THEORY OF EMPLOYMENT, INTEREST AND MONEY (1936). It may not be much of an exaggeration to state that the GENERAL THEORY is little more than a protracted attack on Say's Law -- a reversion to Malthus in claiming that underconsumption (low "aggregate demand") causes recession & unemployment -- and the claim that government spending (financed by deficits, taxes or inflation) and subsidized consumer spending can compensate for "demand deficiencies". In his preface to the French edition of THE GENERAL THEORY Keynes refers to Say's Law as a "fallacy" and describes his own book as "a final break-away from the doctrines of J.-B. Say".
In the first section of Chapter 3 of his GENERAL THEORY, Keynes states Say's Law to be "supply creates its own demand" and he interprets Say's Law to mean "that the aggregate demand price of output as a whole is equal to its aggregate supply price for all volumes of output". Both Keynes' statement and interpretation are erroneous. Say's Law states that a produced good represents demand for other goods, not for itself (as "its own" could imply). Say's Law does not equate supply & demand (Keynes' belief that Say's Law means that everything that is produced is sold), but makes supply a precondition for demand. Supply equals demand at the clearing price on a supply-demand curve (for particular goods and aggregates), but Keynes was wrong to equate supply/demand curves with Say's Law. Supply constitutes demand, but demand does not constitute supply -- one cannot have the means to buy without first having sold.
Keynes' recommendations for government spending were music to the ears of politicians and merchants eager to sell goods by any means. Keynesianism replaced what Keynes dismissed as "classical economics". And Keynes' misrepresentation of Say's Law as "supply creates its own demand" was accepted as if it were a quotation from J.B.Say.
Classical economists did not refer to the principle that "supply constitutes demand" as "Say's Law", but called it "the law of markets". The phrase "Say's Law" was probably coined by Fred Taylor, who wrote a widely used introductory textbook early in the 20th century (PRINCIPLES OF ECONOMICS, 1921). Although J.B.Say deserves credit for being the first word on the law of markets, he was neither the last word nor the most articulate exponent. Say's Law is not an obscure & insignificant economic tenent. I regard it as the most important issue in economics: how a society creates wealth.
This essay is an analysis of the idea that "supply constitutes demand", which I will call "Say's Law". It might seem appropriate to equate the phrase "Supply-side Economics" with Say's Law were it not for the fact that this phrase has been associated with a policy of cutting taxes (without cutting government spending) to stimulate the economy. This essay is less concerned with historical analysis of Say's Law and of "who said what" than with grasping essential principles. For a thorough scholarly analysis of Say's Law, including its exponents & detractors, I highly recommend SAY'S LAW AND THE KEYNESIAN REVOLUTION by Steven Kates -- by far the best book on every aspect of Say's Law.
Knowledge of the laws of supply & demand from an Austrian perspective -- and familiarity with The Austrian School of Economics -- would be very helpful for understanding my analysis. I therefore encourage readers to read my review of MAN, ECONOMY AND STATE to the end of the second chapter before proceeding with this essay.

Catholic Argument Against Suicide

2007-08-01T23:31:00.000-07:00

http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/14326b.htm

Just when you thought you had imagined every possible way to off yourself....

2007-08-01T23:21:00.000-07:00

http://www.rockymountainnews.com/drmn/local/article/0,1299,DRMN_15_5654344,00.html

Death Pool

2007-07-30T15:33:00.000-07:00

Hey, we finally hit a quinella. Tom Snyder and Ingmar Bergman on the same day. Paid thirty to one! I bet it feels like the guy back in November, 1963 who had the C.S. Lewis/J. F. Kennedy quinella.

Dean Martin - Phyllis Diller

2007-07-26T21:47:00.001-07:00

Johnny Cash - Sunday Morning Coming Down

2007-07-24T00:45:00.001-07:00

Shakespeare at Mary Rippon

2007-07-23T15:47:00.000-07:00

We went up to Boulder last Friday to stroll once more through the Economics Building and Hellems and a few others. Classics, it seems, is no longer in the Education building. Like Pacino in "Scent of a Woman", we are touring historical pleasures one last time before we put on our dress blues and end the suffering . It's all come full circle. A Midsummer's Night Dream was playing at the Mary Rippon outdoor amphitheatre and we took the chance to catch it. Very good production. This play means a lot since we were in a production of it at the Jewish Community Center back in summer of 1978, I think, after I graduated from GW. And, the year before that, I had gone up to Boulder for an Engineering School sales pitch. We saw "The Merchant of Venice" at Mary Rippon that August of 1977. We saw the news of Elvis's death on a TV in the dorm. I did love it up at CU. And it made sense to hang around eight years. It would never be that cheap to attend classes and the perceived opportunity cost was still close to zero.

Seinfeld-Kramer's Merv Griffin Set

2007-07-23T15:34:00.001-07:00

The single funniest bit from the whole Seinfeld series.

Dean Martin Together Again Tour 1988 final performance

2007-07-23T15:19:00.003-07:00

Dean Martin: The last 10 minutes of his career

2007-07-23T15:19:00.001-07:00

"Come on, I don't want to miss 'The Rifleman'!" Priceless. Dino in early 1988 before he told Frank to stuff it and went back home. We saw him in Vegas in July, 1991--one of his last ever performances. The death of Dino, Jr. in 1987 was a tough one.

Sammy Davis Jr on the MD Telethon

2007-07-23T15:12:00.001-07:00

I saw Sammy in Denver in the seventies at the Auditorium Theatre. He was, simply, The Best.

The Great Mistake--Lucy and Dino

2007-07-23T14:55:00.001-07:00

Dino doing a guest spot on Lucy's TV show in the sixties. I have been looking for a this episode for years.

DEREK AND THE DOMINOES ON JOHNNY CASH SHOW

2007-07-19T00:12:00.001-07:00

Johnny Cash-I Walk The Line

2007-07-18T21:50:00.001-07:00

Dean Martin - Everybody Loves Somebody (1964)(Full length)

2007-07-17T01:25:00.001-07:00

Dean Martin - 1977--Bad, Bad Leroy Brown

2007-07-17T01:05:00.001-07:00

Dean Martin Interview - Wimbledon

2007-07-17T00:57:00.001-07:00

tbd

2007-07-17T00:56:00.001-07:00

Pater Noster: In Memoriam

2007-07-07T12:06:00.000-07:00

Found a box of my dad's papers. He was a good man. Would that I had lived up to that standard.------

Remembrance of First Holy Communion

10 May 1936, St. Mary's Cathedral, Wichita, Kansas

Cathedral High School

This Certifies That

John Philip Guldaman

has sucessfully completed the courses of Study prescribed

for the High School Department and is therefore entitled to this

DIPLOMA

Given at Wichita, Kansas, this 25th day of May, 1947

HONORABLE DISCHARGE

from the National Guard of Kansas

PFC John P. Guldaman

137th Infantry Regiment

Kansas National Guard

Character: Excellent

DOB: 15 Nov 28; Separation date: 18 Jun 50

Louis Armstrong and Johnny Cash - Blue Yodel No. 9

2007-07-07T08:36:00.001-07:00

Beautiful.

Cannon

2007-07-06T10:51:00.001-07:00

Ah, what a joy to find this on YouTube. Love that theme music. I used to hum it in junior high. Cannon was my hero in that big old Continental Mark IV. Now, let's try and find Barnaby Jones!

Caligula-Nerva Commits Suicide

2007-07-06T08:37:00.001-07:00

Back from the day when porn films had great casts, style and historical relevance.

Tetelestai

2007-07-06T07:40:00.000-07:00

Don Juan DeMarco. Lovely film. Brando. Johnny Depp.

Jerry Lewis at Actors Studio part 2

2007-07-05T10:09:00.001-07:00

Dean and Jerry from Colgate Comedy Hour

2007-07-05T09:01:00.001-07:00

Performing "Two Lost Souls" from Damn Yankees!

La Classe Américaine -

2007-07-05T06:16:00.001-07:00

Jimmy Stewart wasn't in Rio Bravo so what is the name of his movie?

Rio Bravo - My Rifle, My Pony And Me

2007-07-05T06:09:00.001-07:00

Paved Paradise

2007-07-05T04:27:00.000-07:00

"You don't know what you've got (or had) until it's gone
Paved paradise, put up a parking lot..."

Happy Independence Day. 070707 coming up. We are just waiting until someone comes and takes the house. We heard from a realtor that foreclosure was working its way through the system. All those commercials now for companies looking to rip-off people in the foreclosure black hole. Good luck with ours. LOL. Remember the movie STRIPES? Bill Murray, parking in front of the army recruiting office: "We're not parking it, officer, we're abandoning it!" Well, that's our house. We can't stand to even look at the mail. What's the point? Had 30K plus. Then nearly doubled it. Then lost the whole thing. So it goes. Tenth anniversary of our brother's suicide this summer. I wonder if that's the key? Twenty years with the City last fall. Like someone hanging on to playground rings, the grip eventually loosens and you let go. We've let go. But, maybe it was a long time ago that we let go. I don't know. The Manzanares thing fascinates me because, in some small way, I can relate. A DUI last summer in Vegas is hardly comparable to his public crucification. But, these things are relative. And we are always looking for rationalizations and last straws--loosing most of one's stake is a good one. Yet, we carry on. Velocity still not zero. Of course if it is approaching asymtopically, it only reaches zero as time approaches infinity. How long, though, can we sustain a minimal velocity before we just go ahead and expedite infinity? We enjoy this blog, especially the Dino clips from YouTube. I hope whoever else stumbles across this blogs enjoys those clips as well. Kris came over and we had a nice late third and early Fourth of July. She took a couple cute pictures of Kitty, whom my late brother called 'Ole Lady. It was his cat and I took it in since it was so hard to live on the streets and keep a cat. I wouldn't have thought of getting a pet had it not been for my brother. 'Ole Lady continues to be his noisy legacy. By the way, thanks George for linking to this little blog.

Dean Martin - Houston

2007-07-05T03:39:00.001-07:00

Prius Hits 100

2007-07-05T02:56:00.000-07:00

Perhaps it's easier to save the earth than it is to save one's own family or one's self for that matter. I had wondered whether the Prius could hit 100 mph or not. Never got around to pushing our Purchasing agency Prius that hard, or later, one from the motor pool. We once had some fun, though, with the old agency '89 Camry. Got that little four cylinder up to just under 100 mph in the Eisenhower Tunnel on the way to a summer purchasing association meeting in Vail. I kept my promise to Carmen to keep it under a hundred!

http://www.reuters.com/article/domesticNews/idUSN0428148420070705?feedType=RSS&rpc=22&sp=true

Buckley on The Sopranos

2007-07-03T04:40:00.000-07:00

Only William F. Buckley Jr. could work the word "onanistic" into a column on the final episode of The Sopranos. And it's spot on. Enjoy.

http://author.nationalreview.com/latest/?q=MjE0Ng

The Swimmer

2007-07-02T08:44:00.000-07:00

We've just watched again a great but obscure movie, The Swimmer, starring Burt Lancaster. Made in 1968 from a John Cheever short story. Sad and gripping and faithful to Cheever's story. Well worth trying to find on netflix or cable.

(Copied from a web site): "The Swimmer has long been one of my "holy grail" titles, a rare gem that captures the essence of its time, as a powerful and compelling commentary on the decay of the American ideal, and of one man's odyssey of self-realization. Surrounded by the decadent aura of late-1960s upper-middle-class suburbia, Lancaster delivers a superb performance in this gripping character study."

Here's a link discussing the Cheever short story: http://www.salon.com/weekly/cheever960930.html

Another classic movie we've just watched for the first time is The Guns of Navarone from 1961. Peck, Niven, Quinn. Great special effects and locations. The prologue starts with a shot of the Parthenon in Athens similiar to one that we shot during our visit to Greece, now eleven years ago. And I was also watching a Frank Sinatra tape set that consisted of an edited Rat Pack show at the Sands around 1963 and a tape of Frank and Friends. The second tape, coincidentally, had a clip from a charity concert Frank did at the two thousand plus year old Herodes Atticus amphitheatre located at the base of the Acropolis in Athens. Hard to imagine Dino flying to Greece. How about: The Rat Pack at the Acropolis!

Post Mortem (literally)--Disgraced Former Denver City Attorney

2007-07-01T13:28:00.000-07:00

What made this guy's career so distinguished in the first place? Sure, husband and friends. Was he a father? Maybe a step-father. But distinguished? Cole Finegan--that's distinguished. All that Harvard Law School graduate stuff. Came back to Denver and couldn't quite make partner, we suppose. Then just one of many career district court judges. And, then, he accepted the position of Denver City Attorney. Finally the fast track, huh? Is THIS supposed to be a great career move? It took months to find a sucker for that job. Herding those bunch of cats on the 11th and 12th floor. Accepting that job was the first clue that just maybe he wasn't all that distinguished. Here are some comments from a Rocky article that seem germane:

Why the "distiguished career" headlines. This judge just wasn't that great. He made no important rulings; he didn't help the poor, or work hard to change the docket. He sucked up to the silk stocking lawyers during hearings like he was looking for a job. He was a mid-level judge, at best, who could not even get motions resolved in a year. Thank goodness there is only one other Denver judge left that is so pompus and shallow - Mike Martinez.

Having spent time visiting a college roommate during his spell at Harvard's law school, Larry's travails are a sharp reminder of the exquisite arrogance and entitlement many of the law students displayed in their everyday lives. Although I wish Larry no harm, his arrogant bearing in and around the court house was a constant reminder of his alma mater; it is simply not believable he would condescend to interact with someone he didn't know in the parking lots adjacent to the City County Building -- he did so only with great difficulty in the confines of the courthouse. Please also consider the toxic effects of Harvard trained lawyers )and MBAs) throughout the economy and the polity. Sign me Denver Trial Lawyer.

And, from the Rocky on June 14:

Manzanares' name was linked to a case involving two stolen laptops in 2005, reports Jeff Kass.
When two state court computers were stolen in 2005, a now familiar name popped up: Larry Manzanares. Both of the stolen computers were taken in the month of July - one during the July Fourth weekend.
One was taken out of an unnamed judge's chambers, and the other was taken out of a locked storage area in Room 39 of the Denver City and County Building, the same area from which the laptop was probably taken this year.
"The (2005) thefts coincided with the process involved when transferring courtrooms," according to the affidavit. "In the reports documenting those two thefts, Lawrence Manzanares' name was identified as a judge who was either being moved or was having equipment installed."
The affidavit says the computers were never issued to Manzanares. It does not mention whether any other people were named in connection with their disappearance.
The Rocky's editorial says the indictment of Manzanares is an implicit rebuke of of the state court administrator's office which had attempted to quash the prosecution.

Perhaps this guy felt entitled to take the occasional laptop. We can all relate to that, can't we? Harvard grads are entitled. He did so much good; who's going to care? But that laughable story of buying the thing out of some guy's trunk. It took a healthy heap of arrogance combined with studipity to think that that dog would hunt. The truth. It's the cover-up that got him. He was nailed by one or more insiders for stealing the laptop. There are people out there who know the truth. Maybe one of those assistant city attorney cats that got passed over and was pissed off. All he did, really, was steal the equivalent of several (gross) pens. Felony theft. Big deal. Not something heinous, like getting caught in flagrante delecto in the Quiet Room! Or, raiding the break room refrigerators. Had he just confessed (mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa) then maybe, just maybe, he takes a bit of heat and Hick lets it blow over. And the City gets to keep its affirmative action City Attorney hire.

But that doesn't excuse the Rocky and the Jeffco DA for being way too over the top on this. Maybe because he was such an easy target. Or, maybe that Jeffco DA was another one like that guy in the Duke case. Who knows. And that one article quoting all the defense lawyers about how Manzanares was washed up even if found not guilty. I wonder how sweet that payback looks now after his suicide. I wonder what the suicide rate is for Harvard Law School Graduates? This one probably spiked it not a little bit. Not even to mention the suicide rate for former City and County employees.

Suicide is a tough topic. The only ones you hear about in the news are public figures, like Manzanares, or Vincent Foster. Otherwise, a gag order is in place, understandably. Families don't want that taboo publicized. But it also means that suicide is not thought about nearly enough. Review all the articles, comments, et cetera that preceeded the suicide and you'll not find one that worried about the possibility that Manzanares might check out and put the matter to rest permanently.

It's all speculation, of course. One reads that he took several trips with his wife. Get in a little pleasure before carrying out the plan? We can relate to that. We don't want to live with a DUI conviction from Vegas from last summer. We didn't have to let the DUI thing engulf us, but we did.

"There is only one truly important philosophical question, and that is the matter of suicide."---Camus

Dean Martin Drive

2007-06-30T03:55:00.000-07:00

Dean Martin Drive, Las Vegas. The final end game for anonymous buyer is underway. We scaled the heights of luck and winning in poker only to then fall back to the familiarity of desperate losing--and all in the course of a single month. We are content as the velocity of our life continues its asymtoptic approach towards zero.

We watched "The Tudors" on the hotel pay TV. A great series from Showtime that we had heard about but not seen. Peter O'Toole, it's been recently announced, is coming aboard for the second season as Pope Paul III. The Tudors fills the vacuum left for all those "spellbound onanistic audience" abandoned by The Sopranos. Jeremy Northam portrays Thomas More. He also happened to have done a spectacular job a few years ago inhabiting Dean Martin in the TV movie story of Martin and Lewis. The other guy from Will and Grace, you'll recall, played Jerry Lewis expertly. It all comes together, since Dean Martin was in life "A Man For All Seasons", as a man and supremely versatile entertainer. And, did you know that Sir Thomas More was named Patron Saint for politicians by John Paul II in 2000?

On the way to the Vegas airport late yesterday from the Rio, anonymous buyer asked the cabbie to take Dean Martin Drive, from Flamingo to Tropicana. And about midway to Tropicana what do you think flashed by: Why none other than a few feet of road called Jerry Lewis Way! There's also a Frank Sinatra Drive running parallel to Dino drive on the opposite side of I-15. But Dino Drive is by far the longest, the old industrial drive which runs south from Flamingo for ten miles or so.

We wept as the taxi travelled along Dean Martin Drive. We had tapped out, gambled tens of thousands away. Oh, well, easy come and easier to go. We have now done everything and the ultimate winding down can proceed. "Et lacrimatus est Emptor Anonymous". Blasphemous SOB, aren't we. And, according to our sister, an evil one as well. Our brother was the only true saint-- Requiescat In Pacem. All very true. Would that some of it were not so true. And would that we were not so inclined towards the same course as befell Judge Manzanares, Requiescat In Pacem. Well, as the saying goes, where there is life and breath then there is still hope.....for the time being.

2007-05-30T20:45:00.000-07:00

This song means a lot to me. Dino did this as the last cut on his album entitled "DINO" that was released in 1972. I loved this whole album as a Place junior high schooler. Dino also did quite a few other Kris songs. And Kris and Rita Coolidge were also on the season premiere of the ninth and final season of the Dean Martin Show in 1973.

I don't know who else covered this song but Dean's must be the definitive version.

Kris Kristofferson

I never had no regrets, boys;
Not for nothing I've done.
I owed the devil some debts, boys,
Paid them all up but one.
And I don't even regret the living
That I'll be leaving behind.
I've gotten weary of searching
For something I couldn't find.

I'm going down to the shade
By the river one more time,
And feel the breeze on my face before I die.
I'm gonna leave whatever's left of my luck to the losers,
Then bend me down and kiss the world goodbye.

Come to lucky-in-lovin'
I never had no complaints.
They never said I was evil,
But then, I wasn't no saint.
I'm just a river that rolled forever
And never got to the sea.
I ain't blaming nobody;
I had it coming to me.

I'm going down to the shade
By the river one more time,
And feel the breeze on my face before I die.
I'm gonna leave whatever's left
Of my luck to the losers,
Then bend me down, and kiss the world goodbye.

2007-05-30T13:57:00.000-07:00

.....So, it was with a mixture of trepidation and the anticipatory bloodlust of a hatchet job that I went to the Museum of Television and Radio to see "The Rat Pack Captured," a 90-minute version of a recently discovered 1965 kinescope of a benefit concert by Frank, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jr., hosted by Johnny Carson -- allegedly the only known video recording of an entire Rat Pack performance.

The evening is opened by a startlingly young Johnny, at that time only three years on the air, who explains a bit about the Dismas House of St. Louis, a facility for ex-offenders for which this event is a benefit.

And then comes Dean Martin. I brace myself, having never liked his boozy persona. He is a caricature of dissipation; shiny-faced, eyes lowered to half-mast, beatifically stoned. But boy, is he adorable. Imagine my surprise that I come to you now as a prophet of the Church of Dino.

Dean Martin sings like an angel. And this came upon me in a blinding flash of light: In the same way that, despite the seemingly extemporaneous ease with which Fred Astaire danced, we all know he rehearsed doggedly, I realized Dean isn't really a drunk asshole! Actually, there's nothing assoholic at all about his drunk act.

Unlike with his former partner and icon of the French, Jerry Lewis, you're not waiting for the vicious undercurrent. Dino smiles in a vaguely surprised, ain't-this-nifty way throughout his set, as if the music pouring out of him was not of his doing at all. Something else he shares with Astaire is a vocabulary of the tiniest physical gestures. While singing "King of the Road," that pre-hippie '60s anthem to barefoot, boho insouciance, he gives it a nice little gender-fuck by punctuating a riff with a lock of the torso, a cant of the head, his wrist a relaxed teapot handle, and singing, "Queen of the Road." At a time when gay-baiting humor relied on the wide swish and the hostile mince with the unspoken promise of ultimately kicking someone's faggot ass, Dean, for just an instant, makes a surprisingly sympathetic and counterintuitively convincing bottom. I sit there, homo that I am, charmed and unoffended.

By the time he finishes his set and brings home "You're Nobody 'Til Somebody Loves You," he does so with such a touching sincerity that I am thinking to myself, "Yes, Dean. So true, so true. I am nobody."

Sammy, on the other hand, is a wraith of pure energy, a pipe cleaner man in a tuxedo, with his hair plastered against his head like an LP. He is also so immediately sweet and unctuous, so afflicted with the inability to refer to anyone without the Homeric moniker "My dear friend," that I almost sank into a diabetic coma. This is pure telethon Sammy -- the sycophancy ripe for parody. But it's just opening artifice. Who knows, perhaps in 1965, in front of an entirely white audience, this ritual self-declawing was required of any black entertainer. It is when he sings that the façade drops away. He is being played as surely as any other instrument up on stage. It is a miraculous, intimate, personal act. He is still, for want of a better expression, Mr. Entertainment, but the music moves through him.
It had been so long since I'd actually heard Sammy that I'd forgotten the depths of his talent, and it is profound. His version of "One For My Baby" alone, which contains uncanny imitations of Billy Eckstine, Mel Torme and Nat King Cole -- all dead on and not remotely obsequious -- would almost be enough to justify an entire career. When he demonstrates the latest dances -- the Mashed Potato, the Frug, the Pony -- for the glaringly unhip crowd, he is not unaware of their innate campiness, the dopey names, the prescribed, vaguely bogus looseness. But he does them so beautifully and with such graceful abandon that you're reminded of how marvelously sexy and free it must have seemed to be able to dance like that alone. If partnered dancing was a metaphor for love, watching Sammy shake his little can while doing the Swim must have seemed like a national exhortation to go jack off.
And, finally, the Chairman of the Board, who is, at least as far as "The Rat Pack Captured" is concerned, the least compelling of the three. "Your hoodlum singer," says Johnny. True indeed. Sinatra is no longer the beauty he was and his face has taken on a leathern, thuggish quality, which is not relieved by a surfeit of smiling for the audience. There is a Great Star Reserve in evidence, however justified, that I find simply threatening. Dino and Sammy, as it turns out, had not yet done enough to soften me toward Vegas-Heyday-Frank. Even his own goofiness -- miming shooting craps way too many times on "Luck Be a Lady," substituting "St. Louis" for "Chicago" on "My Kind of Town" to the point where even a St. Louis native would scream "enough" -- merely make him seem more unimaginative than human.

And yet, as my sister says, "They don't call him Beethoven for nothing." He is still Frank Sinatra. Even if he phoned it in, it would be worth it.

But none of the three do phone it in. These guys are all about talent. Transcendent talent. The ancient Greeks got it right; talent this prodigious becomes a moral virtue. So that by the time they spend the last half-hour of the concert breaking themselves up in their not terribly funny, mildly punch-drunk, highly exclusionary frat-boy way, it seems entirely earned and materially different from the annoying rough-housing that goes on of a Saturday night on Park Avenue South.
It is only this last part of "The Rat Pack Captured" that I associate with the new Swinger culture. The unrelenting irony with which Rat Pack culture has been adopted entirely ignores precisely why these guys were allowed to behave the way they did. Because they were some of the greatest interpreters of the American Popular Song that have ever lived.
Moreover, they only behaved that way some of the time. There has been an effacement of the historical record. "The Rat Pack Captured" is, in the end, a benefit for a halfway house for ex-cons, as they used to affectionately be called. What mainstream white entertainer today, other than Susan Sarandon, say, would take up such a cause? Sinatra was a progressive long before he became a Reagan Regular. Even the original founder of the Rat Pack, Humphrey Bogart, was a vocal opponent to McCarthy and a supporter of the Hollywood Ten.
Facts all lost in the Rat Pack Revival. The recuperated aspects of that time, the drinking, the smoking, the wardrobe, are not only the least important as regards the Sinatra signature style, but they are also the very attributes that resonate of a time and a world that was far less hospitable, kind or gentle. It's all a bit like going to Beyreuth and coming out an anti-Semite instead of an opera queen.

June 13, 1997

2007-05-28T15:18:00.000-07:00

We've got Pavarotti at Central Park copying to DVD in the other room. Just following the Highwaymen at Central Park. Very nice. Pavarotti's concert is on the order of Simon and Garfunkel huge crowd at Central Park. Beautiful. Amongst the things worth living for are Pavarotti and Cash, with Dino firmly in the lead.

A few newly discovered work-related documents are posted below. Names have been changed to protect the innocent. I suspect the whole department--Sammy, Frank and the rest--got a similiar letter. I re-type these partly because I miss just ever so much all that typing I did at times during those times I worked, even drunkenly. Actually, I was never drunk. Just Pleasantly buzzed, enough to put up with the work. Some of my best pre-bids were conducted while pleasantly buzzed. But I had become weary of the whole enterprise, the deception, et al. Apparently, there was the odd occasion or two when I wasn't an unrepentent screw-up. The very odd occasion. (What a joy listening to Pavarotti is).

July 8, 1998 LETTER OF APPRECIATION

Mr. Dean Martin
Senior Buyer
Purchasing Division

Dear Mr. Martin:

Please accept my sincere appreciation for the extraordinary efforts
you put forth on behalf of the Mayor's Office of Education and
Advocacy in assisting to set up the City's Headstart program.

Working against a grant deadline of June 30, 1998, you were
necessarily required to set aside other work in order in order to
assure best efforts could be made to accomodate the
requirement to establish encumbrances against grant funding
prior to the expiration of the same. In most cases, requisitions
for the needs of the agency did not arrive until two or three
days prior to the deadline. In some cases, requisitions arrived on the day
of the deadline.

The Purchasing Division is often called upon to perform "miracles" for
user agencies. This was one of those instances where you performed
above and beyond what is normally expected.

I thank you for your efforts.

Sincerely,

Mack Gray
Deputy Manager of General Services--Purchasing

November 30, 1987

I regret having to inform you by this official notification that you will be laid off effective January 1, 1988....

Sincerely,

Leo Perelman
Deputy Manager of General Services for Purchasing

Memory Lane.....

2007-05-28T14:31:00.000-07:00

Memorial Day. Bolder Boulder. I ran in the second race, held in 82? Only 4,000 participants and the race finished at Boulder High. I think I broke 50 minutes. Won a pair of running shorts in a drawing by Frank Shorter. Now it's 30 or 40,000 runners. Obscene. Kris spent the night. We watched a couple movies she brought over and some Larry Sanders episodes that I was copying.

Found the tape of Dave Letterman's last two shows on NBC from 1993. Michelle Shocked, Shandling. The finale had a great performance from Springsteen doing "Glory Days". Great stuff. Then Springsteen's drummer became Conan's band leader. Nice continuity.

So much to go through. Vegas coming up very soon. Buckley and Adler from a Firing Line in 1993 copying in the other room. Fascinating. Buckley is still going strong at 82.

This is all I really wanted to do--just watch stuff I've recorded. Over and over. Too bad I blew a few too many tens of thousands to give me a happy comfort zone. O, well. Gambling losses is a justifiable reason for offing oneself. So is losing a job. Even though I technically walked away, I can't deceive myself on that one. Alea Iacta Est (or, Iacta Alea Est). Days were numbered since I couldn't cut it anymore.

2007-05-26T18:32:00.000-07:00

Cultivated Taste

A review of The Georgics of Virgil: Bilingual Edition, translated by David Ferryand Virgil's Georgics, translated by Janet Lembke
By Bruce S. ThorntonPosted April 5, 2007 This article appeared in the Spring 2007 issue of the Claremont Review of Books. Click here to send a comment.
"The best poem of the best poet," said John Dryden of Virgil's Georgics. Montaigne praised the Roman poet's four books on farming as "the most accomplished work of poetry." Such estimations would strike even literate people today as hyperbolic or puzzling, given the obscurity of Virgil's masterpiece and its seemingly tedious subject matter. The conceit of plain poetic speech popularized by the Romantics, the ignorance of farming and country life typical of most moderns, and the decline in knowledge of classical literature all leave most people, even the tiny minority of poetry readers, incapable of appreciating the brilliance of the Georgics and its place in Greco-Roman and European literature. We live in a much different world from the one in which William Pitt, orating against slavery in the House of Commons, quoted from the first Georgic—in Latin.
The reduction of the Georgics to a literary curiosity is a shame. Virgil's themes, hardly limited to agriculture, address themselves to the timeless concerns of civilization, politics, and the human condition. And he writes with a virtuosity of poetic craftsmanship rare in any age, but especially so these days, when poetry has been reduced to virtual prose obsessed with private sensibilities, or postmodern word-puzzles destined to be deciphered by graduate students. The Georgics' fulfillment of what Virgil's colleague Horace deemed poetry's duty to "delight" and "instruct" explains the high opinion the poem enjoyed from the Renaissance down to the early 19th century. Despite that long eminence, however, the Georgics could not "survive the disruption of leisured elegance by the Sturm und Drang, the French Revolution, the Industrial Revolution and the Romantic Movement," as L.P. Wilkinson puts it in the introduction to his own excellent translation of the Georgics.
To translate the Georgics, we will see, is a difficult task, and we should be grateful to have two new versions. Janet Lembke and David Ferry are both veteran translators, though Ferry has more experience with Latin. Lembke writes about the natural world and has previously translated Aeschylus's Persians and The Suppliants and Euripides' Electra and Hecuba. Ferry is a poet who has translated Gilgamesh. His Georgics joins his earlier successes in translating Virgil's Eclogues and Horace's Odes and Epistles. Taken just as translations, both Lembke and Ferry have served Virgil well. Both communicate with fluidity and grace most of the literal meaning of the poem and much of its poetry, which is no small thing in a translation.
* * *
Virgil's seamless melding of poetic craft with complex philosophical ideas accounts for the difficulty a reader experiences in using any translation. Poetic artistry is always difficult to duplicate in another language, but Virgil's is particularly intricate and sophisticated. He reportedly spent seven years writing these verses, and presented them to Octavian himself in 29 B.C. Like all the great poets of the late Roman Republic, the so-called neoterics, Virgil was influenced by Hellenistic Greek aesthetic canons that put a high value on "learning" and "polish," the display of craftsmanship through a sophisticated interplay of meter, allusion, literary references, wordplay, imagery, and sound. For example, line 8 of the first Georgic celebrates the agricultural deities by whose generosity (in Ferry's translation)

Chaoniam pingui glandem mutavit arista.

The earth exchanged the acorns fallen
from oak trees
for ripening ears of grain.

Virgil assumes his reader will know that eating acorns is a motif of the golden age—that time before agriculture and technology first described by the Greek poet Hesiod. Thus he introduces here one of his major themes, that humans are humans because of arts like agriculture, the application of skill and thought to the raw material of a nature indifferent to human survival. Virgil strengthens the reference to the golden age by making this line syntactically a "golden line," a hexameter comprising two nouns, two adjectives, and a verb, a typical display of polish for Roman neoteric poets. Finally, the adjective "Chaonian" refers to Dodona, a Greek city that had an oracle to Zeus. Virgil delicately suggests that just as the golden age of Saturn must give way to Jupiter's iron age of work for mankind to reach its full potential, so too must Greece (and Greek literature) yield to Rome, a theme he elaborates in the Aeneid.
Or consider the multi-layered effect of Virgil's adjective improbus in these (once) famous lines:

labor omnia vicit
improbus, et duris urgens in rebus egestas

and everything
was toil, relentless toil, urged on by need (Ferry)

Relentless work conquered
all difficulties—work and urgent need
when times were hard (Lembke)

Most translators, like Ferry and Lembke, go with "relentless." This choice, while a good one, necessarily misses other, more negative meanings in Latin: "shameless," "immoderate," "flagrant," even "greedy." Such connotations suggest that the need to survive is indifferent to the more refined protocols of civilization. And let's not forget the sly reference Virgil makes here to his own earlier tenth Eclogue, in which a lovesick poet says omnia vincit Amor, "Love conquers all things." The self-reference is illuminating, for the need to control passion, and the destructive consequences of failing to do so, are one of the Georgics's major themes.
* * *
As for the philosophical ideas, they are among man's weightiest: the possibilities of creating cultural and political order, indeed human identity itself, in a world riven by the forces of nature and the fierce passions of men. This process often exacts a tragic cost, and depends on the willingness of men to labor grimly and violently at checking the chaos inherent in themselves and in the cosmos. Virgil's characteristic genius can be seen in the way the Georgics, like his later masterpiece the Aeneid, raise these problems and examine them from numerous perspectives, at times optimistic about the possibilities of civilized order, at other times philosophical about this order's necessary transience.
Despite the manifest difficulty, both translators, as I say, serve Virgil well. Ferry seems more frequently to find effects in English that capture Virgil's artistry. For example, in his description of water running in a ditch Virgil uses the marvelous phrase "raucum murmur," the vowels and the "m's" suggesting the sound of the water, an effect Ferry duplicates with his "muttering guttural sound of the water." This is much more effective than Lembke's "hoarse white noise," particularly since "white noise" has connotations in English inappropriate for describing water in a pre-modern ditch. But there's not much to criticize in either translation.
Success at translating an intellectually and poetically sophisticated poem like the Georgics depends on how well the general reader is helped not only to appreciate Virgil's artistry, but also to understand his ideas. This means that a thorough introduction, along with copious notes, should accompany the translation so that the reader is "instructed" as well as "delighted." In this regard, both editions leave much to be desired. They do cover the usual biographical and historical issues, though Lembke is better at discussing the influence of Hellenistic poetry on Virgil's craft, and the importance of the Epicurean didactic poet Lucretius on Virgil's poetics and themes. Ferry directs the reader to Richard F. Thomas's excellent Cambridge University Press commentary for more information on these matters, but readers would have benefited in both introductions from a more detailed discussion of Virgil's poetics. Particularly glaring is the failure to address the structure and characteristics of the epyllion in Book 4, the story of how the mythic agricultural hero Aristaeus lost and recovered his bees. More than a "mini-epic," as Lembke's note has it, the epyllion was the genre in which the protocols of neoteric poetics were most on display, and discussing this genre would have provided an opportunity to illustrate Virgil's poetic principles. Moreover, the relationship of this story to the rest of the Georgics is a continuing critical problem, which itself testifies to the poet's sophisticated architectonics.
When it comes to the ideas at the heart of the poem, Lembke is positively misleading, and Ferry, while correctly identifying the work's theme, does not elaborate enough to help the reader understand Virgil's larger meaning. Lembke makes several statements that muddle Virgil's theme. For example, when she writes that Virgil "passionately advocated caring without cease for the land and for the crops and animals it sustained," and that his message is that "only at our gravest peril do we fail to husband the resources on which our lives depend," she makes Virgil sound like a modern romantic environmentalist eager to restore a lost harmony with nature. This obscures something the Georgics clearly asserts, that the human relationship with nature is necessarily exploitive and violent—a point Virgil emphasizes by repeatedly comparing farming to war and the farmer's implements to the weapons of war. Nature is brutally indifferent to human flourishing, and only our uniquely human, crafty minds, and virtues like self-control and hard work, allow us to survive. Any beauty and order in nature, apart from the divine celestial bodies, is the consequence of human alteration and skill, as in the Italian farms and towns Virgil famously celebrates in Book 2. In fact, the Georgics offer a corrective to many of our own ecological delusions, in which we idealize nature and demonize civilization.
Lembke comes closer to the mark when she says that "an underlying thesis of the Georgics is that agriculture is the underpinning of civilization and the existence of civil communities." Yet she doesn't go on and elaborate this point and its significance for Virgil's political philosophy, but instead veers off into a confusing discussion of the golden age myth Virgil so brilliantly manipulates in the Georgics. She seems to miss Virgil's intent altogether when she writes: "In his nostalgia for the lost golden age, Virgil shows an intuitive grasp of the havoc wrought in human life by urbanization and warfare." Virgil indulges no such nostalgia for the golden age, a time when humans lived little better than animals feeding dumbly off the earth. That's why Jupiter ended the golden age, nec torpere gravi passus sua regna veterno: "Forbidding the world he rules to slumber in ease" (Ferry). Humans in the golden age are only potentially human; they require a harsh world to sharpen their wits and so realize their full potential, which, as Socrates says in the Phaedrus, can happen only in cities with sophisticated culture. But the tragic cost of this development includes suffering and hardship, death and disorder; the price we have to pay for human grandeur.
* * *
Ferry gets closer to this important theme when he writes that the Georgics celebrate "human accomplishment in the difficult circumstances of the way things are" and notes the pride the poem takes in humanity's "precarious successes." He is also better at identifying the correspondence between nature's destructive forces and those of human nature, a point Virgil makes by describing nature in human terms and vice versa, as in the description in Book 3 of the two bulls fighting over a cow:
dulcibus illa quidem inlecebris, et saepe superbos
cornibus inter se subigit decernere amantis.

And she, with her sweet allurements...
excites two ardent suitors
to fight it out in battle with their horns. (Ferry)

The personification of the bulls in a phrase like superbos amantis (literally, "proud lovers") suggests the eternal human conflict sown by sexual passion, the confluence of violence and sexuality, which Virgil himself will explore through Dido and Lavinia in the Aeneid. And Book 4's discussion of bees is rife with implications for human society and political virtue, as well as civic disorder and war. But we need much more discussion of these ideas, and the explanatory notes need to be more thorough, if the reader is to take from the poem the philosophical riches it contains.
A didactic poem like the Georgics, taking up as it does serious philosophical ideas while lacking an accessible story and characters, cannot reach a modern reader on the basis of a translation alone, no matter how faithful or beautiful. I suppose we should be grateful that publishers will spend the money on new translations of one of the West's most spectacular poetic achievements, and both translators deserve praise for their work. But their publishers should be chastised for failing to ensure that these new translations were attended by adequate introductions and notes, so that readers might experience the full brilliance of Virgil's poem—and the translators' achievement.

2007-05-25T12:29:00.000-07:00

Funny, I remember that movie at the Chez Artiste.....Guess we're going to drink at work until fired...How prescient! But it took three more years of fun and boozing and buying. Anonymousbuyer does have some interesting memories that, fortunately, he can still bring up.

March 15, 2004, Mon, 12:10…..Yukon and a shooter of….oh, the memory is going….wait, I’ve got it: Weller. Sex with M 4 times from Sat 2:30ish through Sun 2:30ish at her place. 4 orgasms in 24 hours has to be a record for me. Went out with J on Friday night to foreign flick at Chez Artiste. Omar Sharif. Only problem was that I was drinking steadily all day and on the light rail to meet her, etc. Slept through the movie for the most part. She drove me home and that was that. Although she did show me her rented house and I got a taste of her parsley. That image will last quite a while, if not my entire life, if J goes not much farther. . It’s now very predictable. JO’d also Sun night and Mon. morn. Again, more records in mixed orgasm category! J seemed to be normal today. No sense she knew I was drinking, etc. I’ll ask her for a walk or to hang out or something and see if she’s up for it. Guess we might have to choose. But then maybe not. Guess we are gonna drink at work until fired. I’m just not willing to work for the City, I guess. Who knows?……

2007-05-25T12:21:00.000-07:00

Only six hundred leaps a year out of thirty-some thousand successful suicides--mostly men of course. That would be the way to go. Anyone can blow their brains out or take a bottle of pills. Takes guts and courage to leap like my brother did. Someone told me to take a flying leap and I did. One should experience a fall of a hundred feet without a net before one dies. Right. Six hundred for the entire country. One for every 500 thousand. Means only, what, seven or eight in Colorado. The stigma of suicide. Nobody talks about it for precisely that reason. But brothers leaping from the same building--that would be impressive. Has that even happened before. Probably. But we would be in select company. So much stuff to go through at the house. I'm just weary of it. Why can't someone check out? Who's to force an individual to endure a life that's been always devoid of pleasure? Question: But do we blow the last of the roll first? Sister is hopeless. Give her a grand to blow. My uncle(s) can take care of my mother. I've worked myself into a frenzy over nothing all these years......

2007-05-24T02:14:00.000-07:00

Up late again. Now copying a show on suicide that Jimbo had given to me many years ago. Some show from HBO, I think. It quotes Camus at the beginning, to the effect that there is only one compelling philosophical question--that of suicide. Very true. 30,000 a year. Only 600 by jumping, though. Folks think that method is higher, probably because it's the only method that garners any media coverage. Men outnumber women four to one in suicides.

2007-05-21T02:12:00.000-07:00

"Anyway, it strikes me as absurd and rather obscene, this whole cosmetic and medical industry based on lust for youth, age-fear, death-terror. Who the hell wants to live forever? Most of us, apparently; but it's idiotic. After all, there is such a thing as life saturation: the point when everything is pure effort and total repetition."---Truman Capote, Self Portrait, 1972

In sorting through my books I've discovered some interesting stuff. The above quote is from a Capote collection of mostly previous pieces. This came out before the chapters from "Answered Prayers" appeared in Esquire and made him person non grata among his 'swans'. I've also been reading a little from Whittaker Chambers' "Witness" and another related history of Hiss-Chambers entitled "Seeds of Treason". Worth revisiting. To think that I was hassling Sender Garlin in the UMC back in 1986 over his pipe smoking! The very same Sender Garlin who playing a key role as Chambers became a Communist. Chambers talks, at the end of his life, of a certain weariness.

Am I too young to feel weary, to feel that life is now just pure effort and repetition? That's what I felt at the City: Everything had been done. Bids consolidated, contracts executed. Good results, even if the process was not always entirely according to Hoyle. Nothing interesting left to accomplish. I guess that's also a reflection of my increasing depression. I had always had a certain amount of freedom and leeway in working. Then, suddenly, the whole office was engulfed in supervisors, both of whom are decidedly mediocre. One is hard worker but the other is just a reliable slug. Good gals, though. And that little purchasing department is now so overstaffed it boggles the mind. Just imagine all the makework stuff that is necessary to justify those FTEs. They spent hundreds of man-hours meeting on developing a "strategic plan". If there is one it's a well kept secret. And those idiotic meetings on "cost savings" that accomplished nothing. And, now, the next big thing is "strategic sourcing".

November 5, 2003—10:30 am---Took another sip of the rye. I will alternate old overholt with old charter. Keep it “old”. Ten so far this morning. 1A went down in flames. To the victor..the spoils. All that one can do is drink and maybe, then, finally, get me out of here. Word is that Carmen came through surgery very well. Moving toes, talking. Hope she ends up back here eventually. Work is more important than we ever imagine. Diary of a City Worker.
11:15, ah, another sip. As I work a routine fucking requisition. 11:45, ah, another sip. If only the atrium crossover was 5 floors instead of 4. Four has too high a risk of surviving a jump. There would be a nice crowd down there today, something going on.

2007-05-17T08:24:00.000-07:00

...sipping vodka on a beautiful Thursday morning...just finished up copying my Orson Welles tapes to DVD. I think Macbeth is the last of the Welles stuff. No, wait, forgot "The Third Man".

Piece of crap City. 311 is a bunch of idiots sitting around two flat screens a piece. Takes f$cking GS six weeks to get my final accounting. Then they have to send it on the Auditor to jack off on it. Once you're out, you're out, I guess. Downloading Saytajit Ray CD onto I-tunes. Finally have some help with mother from Human Services. Too little too late, I fear. Or, better later than never....

2007-05-16T09:32:00.000-07:00

Had a dream when I fell back asleep at 8:30. Tom Bonner was there. I was imaging that I could be back with the City. Then, later, I came back downtown with booze. Story of my life: Mr. Booze. So it goes.....

2007-05-07T12:16:00.000-07:00

Ah, the copying of vhs tapes to dvd continues apace. Should be done with the Dino stuff in a day or two. As I write this I'm copying Cannonball Run 2 in the other room. Underated movie. Abe Vigoda and the actor that played Frankie Pentangeli in Godfather 2. Giving books away and will be down to several dozen vhs tapes by the end of the week. May just throw a bunch out with the trash service on Friday. Dino is in fine shape in this sequel. 1984. Then the apple of his eye crashed in 1987 and it was over. Maybe when my brother jumped in 1997 it was, effectively, over for me as well. Oh, well......

2007-05-02T14:11:00.000-07:00

It's important to have a purpose in life. Copying Dino stuff from VHS onto DVD provides just enough purpose for the time being. We copied the Friar's dinner from 1959. Then "Some Came Running". Then "Bells are Ringing". And, now, we are copying a 1062 TV special with Judy Garland, Dino and Frank onto the last 60 minutes or so left on the DVD. She opened with Just In Time, which Dino happened to sing in Bells. Important to get rid of tapes, they are cluttering up things. Maybe another week.

2007-04-30T01:46:00.000-07:00

The CBS drama "Cold Case" always gets to me, I cry like a baby. They use great songs during the closing moments. The Dean Martin Roast of Joe Garagiola is quite good. Have so many great baseball legends ever been on the same stage at the same time: Hank Aaron, Mickey Mantle, Stan Musial, Yogi Berra, Maury Wills, Orson Welles. Quite entertaining. Red Buttons never got a dinner. Secretariat, who when they retired him, said they're going to give me six million dollars and all I have to do is THAT! Never got a dinner.

2007-04-29T03:52:00.001-07:00

Dean felt an impending sense of gloom as he drove over to the pot limit poker game. Since laying off poker 5 months ago, he was up almost eight grand in less than a month. He was on the best roll of his life. Couldn’t lose. Played tough and luck was with him. When you don’t get into the game more than a thousand, you can beat the game. But getting in the game a thousand can also lead to two thousand and more. He had done that a couple times before he quit five months ago. Thus, the impending sense of gloom that always hung over him on the way to the game.

Being up eight grand meant that he was even from the first six months of the year. But it felt better than being just even. Losing a thousand or two week after week fades with memory so the eight grand feels somehow like found money. Dean was considering quitting at this point. His friend Tom was encouraging him take a break and enjoy the fruits of gambling. However, had Dean taken that advice before last weekend he would not have won another seventeen hundred. So six goes to nearly eight. However, six could have also gone to four or less.
It’s very hard for a gambler to quit while he is ahead because the point is the action. You stay in the action until you lose it all and are out of the game. Dean had seen guys who were supposed to be good players get stuck in the pot limit game four or five thousand. When you’re stuck that much it’s almost impossible to win. But the last month seemed to be about actually winning. Or was he kidding himself?

2007-04-20T22:36:00.000-07:00

Anonymousbuyer has left the building after twenty years. One score years in purchasing and a few odd months lounging about the City Jail. Twenty is the magic number. Attended school for twenty years--12 in DPS and 8 at Boulder--that's 20, pallie. Followed by twenty years in the same municipal purchasing department. Well, not really the same. Constantly evolving and changing like the waters of a Hericlitean river. Maybe it was anonymousbuyer who stayed the same and, ultimately, was unwilling or unable to adapt. Nice theory. "Candide" was recommended at the beginning as shedding light how things worked in the City in general and purchasing in particular. The Myth of Sisyphus was added to mix as years went by. Twenty years....

July 18, 2000, 3:55 pm----a Tuesday
I am finishing the second day in a row of full concentration at work. A fair day’s work for a fair day’s pay.
Two days in a row. Just day by day, dwelling on neither the past nor the future. Just stay in the Moment.
I met a man at Better Bodies this past Saturday who recognized me.
He remembered attending Place with Jerome. I never thought of Jerome going to Place. This fellow also remembered me Kicking for GW. I may be coming out of the grief and malaise of the last five years. Finally. I feel as though I could start working the whole day like everyone around here. Day by day. One day at a time.

2007-04-20T08:04:00.000-07:00

Ah, one of my favorite passages......Can one have lived long enough?

Act V, scene 3

MACBETH Seyton!--I am sick at heart,
When I behold--Seyton, I say!--This push
Will cheer me ever, or disseat me now.
I have lived long enough: my way of life
Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf;
And that which should accompany old age,
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have; but, in their stead,
Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath,
Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not. Seyton!

*
*
*

MACBETH
Cure her of that.
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,
Raze out the written troubles of the brain
And with some sweet oblivious antidote
Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart?

Doctor:
Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.

MACBETH
Throw physic to the dogs; I'll none of it.
Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff.
Seyton, send out. Doctor, the thanes fly from me.
Come, sir, dispatch. If thou couldst, doctor, cast
The water of my land, find her disease,
And purge it to a sound and pristine health,
I would applaud thee to the very echo,
That should applaud again.--Pull't off, I say.--
What rhubarb, cyme, or what purgative drug,

2007-04-17T13:53:00.000-07:00

Anoymousbuyer. A blog that no one will read. Prevailing wages. Illegal immigration certification. Just a part of the public sector purchasing experience. I don't know how I've handled it for these past twenty years. Easy gig for the most part--sometimes too easy.