a little more Harpo

All media-ed out. but watch this anyway

All the best,

Tommmmmmmmmmmmmmy

HARPO MARX

My hero, Arthur "Harpo" Marx, died on this date in 1964. Amazingly, he died on his wedding anniversary, and so, to his family, September 28 has always been a day of remembrance and celebration of his life.



Here is just a taste of life with Harpo as he described in his autobiography Harpo Speaks:


"We didn't run a very proper or conventional household, but the joint was never dull either. At the end of the war we enlarged our house.
We threw out the butler, disconnected the buzzer on the dining-room floor and got rid of all the rest of the Beverly Hills nonsense and converted the dining room into a poolroom. The next thing we threw out after the butler was Dr. Spock. I was the same kind of father as I was a harpist - I played by ear. But I've been lucky on both scores. The harp has given me a decent living and my children have given me more pleasure than I ever thought a man could possibly have.
What rules we had, as a family, stemmed from the fact that all of us has been adopted by each other. We've always had equal amounts of gratitude and respect mixed in with our love for each other. Susan, an only child who never had any roots, and I, a lone wolf who got married twenty years too late, were adopted by the kids as much as they were by us. Somehow, without lecturing or threatening or studying any books, we all followed the same rules, from the time the kids were very young:
Life has been created for you to enjoy, but you won't enjoy it unless you pay for it with some good, hard work. This is one price that will never be marked down. You can work at whatever you want as long as you do it as well as you can and clean up afterwards and you're at the table at mealtime and in bed at bedtime.
Respect what the others do. Respect Dad's harp, Mom's paints, Billy's piano, Alex's set of tools, Jimmy's designs and Minnie's menagerie.
If anything makes you sore, come out with it. Maybe the rest of us are itching for a fight too.
If anything strikes you as funny, out with that too. Let the rest of us have a laugh.
If you have the impulse to do something you're not sure is right, go ahead and do it. Take a chance. Chances are, if you don't you'll regret it - unless you break the rules about mealtime and bedtime, in which case you'll sure as hell regret it.
If it's a question of whether to do what's fun or what is supposed to be good for you, and nobody is hurt by whichever you do, always do what's fun.
If things get too much for you and you feel the whole's world's against you, go stand on your head. If you can think of anything crazier to do, do it.
Don't worry about what other people think. The only person in the world important enough to conform to is yourself.
Anybody who mistreats a pet or breaks a pool cue is docked a month's pay."

If you are still reading and want to have a good laugh and a cry read this

HONK! HONK!

Happy Birthday, Carrie!

A streak has com to an end. Without the fanfare of Cal Ripken Jr., or the moving speech of Lou Gehrig, a longer lived but less well known Iron-man race has quietly closed. For twenty eight years, five months and thirty days, my mom and dad have had as few as one and as many as five minor children. Today, the youngest , my baby sister, has legally become an adult.

A chicken dinner, Grandma's cake, a little candle, a few cards and poof... you grew up. Just like that.

Welcome, adorable one, to the ranks of adulthood. Go get yourself a lotto ticket!

P.S. You are still the baby!

P.P.S. And you still can't swear in front of mom.

talk about number two

So a few moments ago I was creating a series of short lists for the weekend. Things I need, and things I think I need but can't have. The formulation of these lists somehow wound up in my acceptance of the following.
1. I need to get superglue
2. I think I need Internet in the bathroom
3. Sometimes people talk in numbers

I would like to go further into item number three.

It occurred to me that part of becoming fully acquainted with any topic involves the ability to discuss said topic by using numbers in place of or shorthand for other words:
The simplest examples are in a restaurant or in my back yard: "I'll have the number two," or "She had a number two." But of course it goes much further. The waitress may yell out something like like "Number two. Eighty six the pickles." Here she uses numbers in place of a noun and a verb.
Sometimes the same numeral nomenclature can mean two different things depending on the context: "Eddie put the 45 on the table." Did Eddie put a gun on the place where someone eats or did he place a small vinyl record on a record player?
The use of numbers in a home improvement setting can denote a persons level of accomplishment in that field. "Gregor, bring me a two-by-four." Even the rank amateur knows that the speaker is asking Gregor for a wooden board. But if the same speaker says "Gregor, is that a 220?" an amateur could be confused and possibly seriously injured. Especially if the amateur thinks the speaker is discussing a sophomore level English class.
This seems true of just about any field. Someone that knows what they are doing can say "Hey, Freda, can you hand me a stack of 1040's" or "Bernard, do we have Mrs. Garza's 360?" If Freda or Bernard know what the speaker is talking about, he or she might respond "Ten-Four."

But why someone would want to talk like that twenty four-seven is beyond me.

Happy scraps

had a rough day and tomorrow bodes more of the same. But nobody wants to hear about that, not even your grandmother. So instead here is a list of reasons for the tommmmmmmmmy to be happy:

I still smell OK after a rough day

Spatulas are awesome and useful

My honeyface is very nice to me

my dogs always want to show how much they love me in the face

I have two Marx Brothers DVD box sets

I am not worried that the microbe Candida albicans exhibits a dimorphic growth pattern

My nose is prominent

The fan-light in my bathroom is sweet

I have enough clean socks for the week

There is no draft

I am handy with a hammer

I like to move-it move-it

My begonias are very healthy

There is a piece of apple pie in the fridge

My sisters call me "Buddy"

I have great hair

my neighborhood sewers do their job

******************

OK, I feel much better. feel free to recomend any additions

achy achy, hands off sn...

SO my whole being hurts. I spent the weekend with the annual bastages in the woods abusing our livers and requantifying those parts of the brain reserved for obscenity and also chopping wood. And now i hurt so good.

The annual trip with the annual bastages serves to truly coalate my mind and give voice to the socially unacceptable yawps that take root somewhere in the deepest catacombs of twentyfirst century lives.

viva la camping.

dancing gridiron brooms

So-
I am thinking of starting a FANTASIA FOOTBALL league. It would be like fantasy football but you hear The Ride of the Valkyries every time you log in...

some films to avoid

Over the past several days we watched several movies that fell short of expectations. First Loverboy. Kevin Bacon directed what was intended to be a story of a damaged mother and her lover for her son. Though she is delusional and overbearing, we are meant to see the Anne Shirley-esque wonder with which she observes the world and escapes the truths of it. In actuality, we see pain, abuse, and selfishness. What is intended to be honest, tender, and compelling is, in fact, grotesque. A portrayal of an embittered and insane character, does not an art film make. The story is unique and creative, yet it relies too heavily on caricature. The focus meanders and leaves the viewer feeling not like a participant, nor witness, nor judge, nor juror; but like a movie viewer relieved to see the credits roll.
Another disappointment came in the form of Mike White's Year of the Dog. This one begins very humbly but with great power. he expertly introduces the characters, gives them meaning, and then subtly and deliberately hits several emotional chords. Then, half an hour in, he radically changes direction and again chooses caricature over character. These very people that so recently seemed multidimensional are now hammered flat. We are allowed a few glimpses of humanity several more times, but each quickly springs a leak.

dan band

Please enjoy responsibly: explicit lyrics



later perhaps a discussion of officially placed signs in public restrooms. until then, I'm peter venkman saying.....

Grazi, Maestro!

Here with Sting.

The Ice(pak) Man Cometh

I spend lengthy parts of the year paying little to no attention to sports. I will glance at scores on news websites, hear vague details on the radio and on tv and that's about it. But now and then (yes at the begining and end of seasons) my interest is peaked and I pay closer attention. This is one of the latter periods: fantasy draft, Tigers trying to eke, and the Mountaineers giving all the (sc) U M people a well deserved humbling. And tonight, my wife's favorite Tiger pitcher returns to the mound. The Gambler will either revitalize our injury plagued league champs, or will emcee his own curtain call. but either way, Honeyface will probably let me watch some of the game. If I agree to help her put together her roster for this weeks fantasy match.

And here's hoping The Maestro feels better.