2001

Last night I finished watching 2001, A Space Odyssey.  It was a 5 night affair and on a scale of 1 to 10, I'd give it a 7 on bliss scale. Parts of it were very good but at the risk of sounding shallow, the special effects and sound track were definitely dated. I found myself wondering how good it would be using current technology.

Watching the movie made me think of the sixties and seventies when our teachers and society in general were telling us how glorious the future would be. I remember career counseling in high school where the teachers told us the best jobs in the future would be recreation directors because everyone would  have lots of money and huge amounts of free time as the work week would decrease to about 20 hours. Yes, we had stars in our eyes and thought the world was our oyster.

But how did it turn out? Not as wonderful as was predicted by our teachers. The environment is toxic and the economy is in the shitter. Starvation and poverty are prevalent in large areas of the planet and wars are erupting on a regular basis. But for a very small portion of the population, the predictions came true. Untold riches and opulent lifestyles if you're fortunate enough to have a well connected family tree. Or you might get lucky and have a 100 mph fastball and be able to hit the ball out of the park.

Tonight the plan is to start watching 2010, the year we make contact. I can't remember the plot very well but I do remember that the special effects were a lot better than 2001 and that for maximum bliss, I should be well medicated for the last 20 minutes.

I made a big pot of bean soup yesterday so my mental health is in good shape. Yes, that's how glorious my future turned out, bean soup is the jewel in my crown.

Billy says he loves you sons of bitches.

slipped my mind

Throughout the week I have countless ideas for topics to ramble on about but when it comes time to put pen to paper, either I can't remember my brilliant ideas or they've lost their brilliance after a day or two of them bouncing around in my subconscious.

After the annual Deadwood marathon, I decided to get my 15 minutes of bliss each night watching CARNIVALE. This was my 3rd time watching the series and like Deadwood, I discover something different each time I watch it. The first time I watched it, the freaks and interesting characters of the carnival caught my attention. Same thing with the second time watching it but I got a greater understanding of the characters and a few of the holes in the plot were filled in. This last time I focused on the religious aspect.

The religion caught my attention because when the evil priest, Brother Justin was speaking, I was lucky enough to have the sub woofer dialed in perfectly. A very subtle rumbling wafted across the room that was incredibly spooky and spooky is good. My only criticism of Carnivale is that Brother Justin becomes too overtly evil.

For evil to really resonate, there should be a few things left to the imagination.  Nothing wreaks more havoc with us humans than our imaginations. If we're not imagining ourselves to be incredibly smart and important, we're imagining ourselves to be persecuted and under appreciated. And we have the ability to make mountains out of mole hills when it comes to our problems. All this is acceptable for young people but jesus fucking christ, us old geezers should know better. You wouldn't believe how depressed I get when my bicycle has a flat tire. It's like the world is coming to an end.

After Carnivale, I watched Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back and it was very therapeutic. Not as good as the Big Lebowksi for lifting my spirits, but everything pales in comparison to the Big Lebowski. Now it's time to find a new series for the 15 minutes of nightly bliss before hitting the sack. I'm beginning to panic because I only have about 10 hours to come up with something good or I'm facing the prospect of an evening without bliss.

A man needs his bliss.

Billy says he loves you sons of bitches.

trees

I've been on the lookout for a new tree since February and finally pulled the trigger. I told the lady that I was looking for an alaskan weeping cedar but they didn't have any. I had found one at a different nursery but the son of a bitch was huge and would have been difficult to transport and transplant so I gave it a pass. A few weeks ago I found a weeping giant redwood but gave it a pass because the name "giant redwood" would have set off alarm bells with the lovely mrs myshkin. She doesn't share my love for trees. So this is the little beauty I purchased:

I was told that it's a weeping blue Nabor Cypress. When I got home and checked it out on the net I didn't see any such tree but what the hell, it's the only weeping blue Nabor Cypress on the planet. Or I had sucker written across my forehead and the lady took advantage of me.

Two years ago I planted a small cedar tree which looked kind of like Charlie Browns Christmas tree at the time:

And this is what it looks like now:

Pretty fucking good, eh!  I've faithfully watered and fertilized the little angel and kept a record of it's growth that I posted on a previous blog. It's getting too high to accurately measure now. Maybe Sonny can work a little trigonometry and give me an accurate figure. But I won't hold my breath, he's outgrown my world of trivial pursuits.

Remember the ivy?  It's also doing well:

The new growth has to mean that it's taken root and ready go but just to be safe, I'll give the little beauties a few more weeks in the pots. Plus I haven't really decided on a forever home for  these babies. It would  be cruel to plant them and then rip them out later if a better spot opened up. They've already been through enough trauma in their short lives.

The weather is warm today and quite possibly will be downright hot tomorrow so the water is truly warm in the pond and as always, there's plenty to eat.

Billy says he loves you sons of bitches.

Up in smoke

My luck ran out yesterday, woe was me.  I was happily mowing the lawn with my trusty Craftsman electric mower when things started to go south on me. The mower often gets clogged  when the grass is damp which is no big deal, I just flip it on its side and scoop out the clog. The mower slowed down so I released the safety switch and flipped it on its side but there was no clog so I just righted the machine and carried on. It still didn't seem right so I flipped it over again looking for a clump of grass but it was all clear. I was perplexed.

I continued on my merry way but it still didn't seem right so I flipped over again and noticed a little smoke around the blade. I had smelled something a  little  strange but thought it was just one of my international neighbors cooking some lovely ethnic cuisine. Now I knew what the smell was and what it meant, the mower was on borrowed time. I decided to take a break to let the smoke clear. After 20 minutes I returned to the scene of the crime and finished the area I was cutting. It's time for a new mower.

Luckily, I have a spare mower, a wonderful Craftsman gas mower I bought to cut my dad's grass a few years ago. But I'm not finished with the electric mower. Next time the grass needs cut, I'm going to fire up the electric  mower and keep cutting until the son of bitch erupts in flames. I didn't get to where I am today by letting a chinese lawn mower scare me. I'm actually looking forward watching it go up in flames.

It's nice to use something until it explodes rather than disposing of it before it's time is up. Kinda like wearing an old pair of Levi's until  the crotch and knees are nothing but threads.

Twenty years ago I would have taken the kids outside and said, "here, hold my drink and  watch this!" Then maybe roasted a few marshmallows over the flaming carcass.

Billy says he loves you sons of bitches.

An embarrassment of riches

It's hard to decide which season is the best for sports, the spring or the fall. In the spring baseball begins while hockey and basketball get ready for the playoffs. In the fall football gets under way while the baseball playoffs are in full bloom. It's darn near impossible to judge which is better, spring or fall?

This year I'm totally enjoying the champion's league soccer tournament. There were a few games this afternoon and I recorded them which leaves me in the unenviable position of having to stick my head up my ass so I don't hear the scores before watching the games. Life can be difficult.

Watching baseball and soccer has really improved with high definition TV.  The high def TV I bought 18 months ago is now obsolete, woe is me. The new standard is 4K and it too will probably be obsolete in a few years so I'm in no rush to run out and buy one. Watching baseball and soccer I always focus in on the grass. Nothing beats a good night baseball game with the lights shining on a beautiful green field of grass and when you contrast that with the gorgeous white uniforms of a few teams it's heaven on earth for me. And of course  I hit the mute button on the remote and play some nice light jazz. Nothing fucks up a game like announcers that just won't shut the fuck up.

With soccer the camera angles are critical. You need a broad view of the pitch to watch the plays develop and enjoy the crispness of the passing. It really ruins in the experience when the rubes in the stands all wear  light colored jerseys. A nice green well lit pitch with minimal visual interference from the stands is very important.

So which one is better, spring or fall?

They're both good so just sit back and enjoy the moment no matter what the season.

Yes, spring is in the air. But it's fall in the southern hemisphere.