Movie of the Week

Roll out the orange shag carpet, throw up the wood-grain panelling, melt some cheese cubes in your avocado green fondue pot and enjoy the entertainment masterpiece that was ABC's Movie of the Week.

Here's some cool trivia, according to TV Party:

In 1971-72, 18 of the 23 top-rated films broadcast on television were ABC MOTWs, thanks in no small part to the fast-paced, 30-second promotional teasers that forever redefined motion picture advertising.

Jump The Shark has a nice page dedicated to the ABC MOTW. For what it's worth, 28 votes to 1 say that MOTW never jumped the shark. One voter says it did -- with Killdozer.

I just remembered one more MOTW favorite of mine: James Brolin in Trapped. That's the one where the guy gets knocked out by juvenile delinquents and wakes up in a department store after closing time, only to find himself...TRAPPED! By 6 doberman pinschers.

Speaking of 30-second promotional spots, check this out: the original promo for The Night Stalker.

Oh, yeah. There's also an over-the-top promo featuring Connie Stevens as...The Sex Symbol.

Enjoy!

Friday Random Ten: Snowbound Edition

Today started with having to deal with the consequences of District 214's truly sh*tty and backwards-ass decision to NOT cancel classes for today: by 7:30 the car was dug out, cleaned off and the driveway was shoveled, and I had deposited one unhappy daughter at school. MizBubs, girl dynamo, cleared off the sidewalk and helped the neighbor dig out before I got home.

Then came the good news: my dentist appointment, cancelled. Haircut, cancelled. Eldest daughter's classes, cancelled. And today was my day off, and MizBubs!! I'm drinking some more coffee to gear up for another go at the driveway and front walk, and then it's a quick trip to Costco to prepare for an afternoon of cleaning and baking.

SNOW DAY!

So here is today's special snowbound edition:

What is a Santa Claus – Stan Kenton

Blue Christmas – Billy Eckstine

The Merriest – June Christy

O Tannenbaum – Vince Guaraldi Trio

Baby It’s Cold Outside – Dean Martin

Boogie Woogie Santa Claus – Lionel Hampton

The Nutcracker Suite – Les Brown & His Orchestra

Christmas Night in Harlem – Louis Armstrong

The Man With the Bag – Kay Star

Linus and Lucy – Vince Guaraldi Trio

Reasons I love my family

Check out this picture:

I get home from work at eleven o'clock, after driving through what's turning into a pretty intense ice storm out here in the northwest suburbs. I get done salting the front and back porches, hoping it will make the morning shovel easier, I come back inside, pour my bourbon...and find this, saved as the new desktop on our computer.

And I have no idea who did this. It wasn't MizBubs, I know that--I asked her when I kissed her goodnight. So it's one of the daughters. The last desktop image we had was of the ruin of Tyrone House in County Galway, Ireland. Before that I'd put up a random image of a drunk woman dancing with a penguin. We like to mix it up. I get home late, find something that amuses me, and it becomes the desktop image for a few days. My youngest gets home from school, finds something that amuses her, and it becomes the desktop. Around it goes.

I find this very comforting.

All that's left now is to fall asleep and hope that, when I awake, Harper College and Prospect High School have both cancelled classes for the day. That's what this family needs--a rockin good snow day.

Naked + Crack = Alligator Attack

I live for this stuff.

Seriously, finding out about this today was like an early Christmas present.

I lowered the official Sprawling Ramshackle Compound Alligator Attack Threat Level in June, earlier this summer.

I did this after our trip to Florida revealed that, at least in my case personally, viscious birds are a greater threat than alligators. This recent incident will not result in a revising of our alligator attack threat assessment due to its unique elements: nudity and crack cocaine use.

At approximately 4 am, Polk County deputies found Adrian J. Apgar (known from this point forward as "Lefty") naked in the jaws of an alligator. Mr. Apgar told the deputies he had been smoking crack prior to the attack; I have not been able to find any explanation of why Lefty was naked or in the water with the alligator.

Clearly, this nation's heightened level of alligator attack vigilance (for which I take a large share of the credit) has resulted in a change of tactics for our reptilian enemy. Even the alligator's prehistoric walnut brain knows that an intoxicated, dope-addled target is an easy target. I'd like to know what kind of lizard sold that rock to Mr. Apgar.

Made for TV

Coaster Punchman and Dale brought back pleasant memories from my youth--watching made-for-TV movies. I mentioned Trilogy of Terror in the recent round of movie tag, and CP hooted his approval, describing it as an "awesome cheesy made-for-TV movie from the 70's." Dale followed up, calling my Karen Black and raising a Linda Blair, going all-in with Born Innocent.

This set me off on a fit of nostalgia. Looking back, I see now that my love of women in prison movies began with Linda Blair's bravura performance in Born Innocent. I started with Linda Blair, but soon moved on to the more sophisticated and pneumatic charms of Mary Woronov and Sybill Danning.

What other great made-for-TV experiences did I have...let's see:

Killdozer -- A bunch of construction workers try and move a strange meteorite with a bulldozer. A strange blue light possesses the bulldozer, turning it into...KILLDOZER! Later on they defeat the demonic dozer by electrocuting it.

Crowhaven Farm
The Dark Secret of Harvest Home

Hope Lange and Bette Davis, respectively, get freaky in these two movies about the hidden menace of charming New England towns.

The Night Stalker
The Night Strangler

These two movies, starring Darren McGavin, were the pilots for the TV series Kolchak the Night Stalker. The Night Stalker was awesome because it set a vampire story in swanky 70's Las Vegas. The Night Strangler had the better cast--Wally Cox, Al Lewis and John Carradine.

Gargoyles

I remember watching this at the home of some of my parent's friends who we were visiting at the time. I thought I got the best deal in the world, being left alone in the den to watch this while the grownups socialized.

Sweet Hostage

Mental patient Martin Sheen "kidnaps" farm girl Linda Blair. He recites poetry to her and she learns valuable life lessons.

Now, really, if there were made-for-TV lifetime achievement awards for actors and actresses, I think Martin Sheen and Linda Blair would have to win something:

Martin Sheen

That Certain Summer: Hal Holbrook's younger lover
Catholics: Father Kinsella
The Story of Pretty Boy Floyd: Title character
The Execution of Private Slovik: Title character

Linda Blair

Born Innocent: need I say more?
Sara T., Portrait of a Teenage Alcoholic: Sarah Travis
Sweet Hostage: Dorah Mae Withers

An honorable mention goes to Hope Lange. She cranked out some quality work in the 70's.

If I'm missing anyone, PLEASE let me know! This is just the stuff I could remember. I know there's more.

The Mad Seamstress answers her movie tag

My eldest daughter responded to my tagging. In a shameless fit of blogger nepotism, I'm going to suggest you all read her answers now.

I think her party choices are the best ever. I'm ditching the stiffs I invited over and heading to her shindig. Hopefully Mitchum won't smash a bottle over my head.

Can 500,000 ABBA fans a year be wrong?

Now this is important news!

According to this story in Der Spiegel, a museum dedicated to ABBA is scheduled to open in Stockholm in 2008.

Stockholm mayor Kristina Axen Olin believes the museum will attract 500,000 people a year.

Finally, Stockholm can be known for something other than its eponymous syndrome.

The litigious dead

Long time readers may remember that, back in July, I wrote about a group of people in Minneapolis who got arrested while dressed as zombies. They were ultimately held in custody for two days before being released, without being formally charged. At the time I couldn't believe that cops, especially in a city like Minneapolis, would be so unaware of zombie walks, zombie dance parties and flash mobs that they would mistake a bunch of kids in zombie makeup for a WMD threat.

The arrested zombies have now filed a lawsuit against the city of Minneapolis and Hennepin County. That link has pictures of the zombie plaintiffs.

You can tell that the author of this story in the Pioneer Press had some fun with his task:

Seven people shuffled forward Wednesday to serve the city of Minneapolis and Hennepin County with a lawsuit for violating their rights...

...supporters said the arrests' pretense was shakier than a zombie's gait.

...one of the officers heatedly swore he didn't care about the zombies' constitutional rights and that he was going to teach the undead a lesson. The suit also says the zombies were forced to lurch around in the back of a police van because of willfully sudden stops and starts by a police driver, and that one of the zombies' prosthetic leg was taken away while in jail...

At least they're not alleging the officer removed the zombie's leg and beat him with it.

I feel bad about stories like this--call it divided sympathies. Cops vs kids in zombie makeup...sheesh. I'm a cop, I'm a big fan of gore makeup, and my daughter frequently participates in zombie-related recreation. I'm betting that if any of the responding cops had possessed a better sense of humor, or if the zombies had been polite and cooperative, that none of this would've happened. Oh well.

Movies?

My post-WMD training chocolate martini haze cleared long enough to see I'd been tagged by Beth at Cup of Coffey. It seems I'm to answer some type of movie quiz. Here goes:

Popcorn or Candy? Both. Specifically, Raisinettes and popcorn, taken in alternate mouthfuls to maintain the proper balance of sweet chocolatey goodness and buttery salty crunchiness.

Name a movie you've been meaning to see forever. Old School. People keep coming up to me and yelling "YOU'RE MY BOY, BLUE" and I just don't get it.

You are given the power to recall one Oscar: who loses it, and to whom? I don't know...someone loses a Best Director and Martin Scorcese gets it, but for a good movie, not one of his later ones where he's actually trying to get a Best Director.

Steal one costume from a movie for your wardrobe. Anything worn by Sam Rockwell in Matchstick Men. I dug that hillbilly lounge lizard look.

Your favorite film franchise is: The James Bond movies starring Sean Connery. Sub-zero cool.

Invite five movie people over for dinner. Who are they? Why'd you invite them? What do you feed them? Hmmm. Ernest Borgnine, Strother Martin, Robert Mitchum, Johnny Depp and R. Lee Ermey. I have no idea why I invited them, it was the booze talking. I think they'd all enjoy a steak dinner, and I'd keep the drinks flowing.

What is the appropriate punishment for people who answer cell phones in the movie theater? A quick brachial stun and then skull-drag em out of the theater.

Choose a female bodyguard: Ripley from Aliens, Mystique from X-Men, Sarah Connor from Terminator 2, The Bride from Kill Bill, or Mace from Strange Days. The Bride--come on, she got f*cking BURIED ALIVE and came back and kicked ass.

What's the scariest thing you've ever seen in a movie? In hindsight it's not the scariest, but that shot of Karen Black at the end of Trilogy of Terror really got me at the time.

Your favorite genre (excluding "comedy" and "drama") is... Oh, this is an easy one--film noir. I have more favorite movies--Out of the Past, Kiss Me Deadly, Pickup on South Street, Touch of Evil--in this genre than any other. I like the neo-noir films like Blood Simple and Body Heat too.

You are given the power to greenlight movies at a major studio for one year. How do you wield this power? I hire my daughters to tell me what to make.

Bonnie or Clyde? Michael J. Pollard.

And I'll tag MizBubs, and the Mad Seamstress because I'm interested in finding out if I know their taste in movies as well as I think I do, and Johnny Yen and Lulu because I think we kinda share a demographic.

A family full of happy Tom Waits fans

That's us.

I picked up a copy of Orphans by Tom Waits tonight. I sliced off the wrapper with a meat cleaver and found a beautiful little package, bound like a book with lyrics and lotsa pictures. Makes me wish it was on vinyl--something like this really deserves the visual impact that an LP record would have had. It's exciting knowing that I have all morning tomorrow to listen to it, house all to myself.

Talked to my mom earlier, and found out Tom was on David Letterman last night; she recorded it for us and said he was funny as hell. Then lo and behold, Tom turns up on the Daily Show tonight! Then, in the final Tom Waits coincidence of the day, my friend Bawb the Revelator sent me this link in an email:

Tom Waits Supplement: Lyrics analysis

If you've ever had the desire to look up the names of characters from Tom Waits songs, this is the place. Everyone from Big Joe, Jimson and Grady Tuck to Tony Franciosa, Alice, Blackjack Ruby and Tabletop Joe. They're all here.

***

The last couple days have been kind of odd. I spent yesterday and today attending WMD training. Yesterday was mostly classroom, and today I spent the better part of the day in a gas mask and chemical suit doing training scenarios. The training was put on by the Center for Domestic Preparedness (part of the Department of Homeland Security.) The training was excellent, but frankly it left me kind of depressed. Two days of worst-case scenarios, IED recognition, discussions of blister agents, reviewing triage procedures so we can decide who gets medical attention and who doesn't...I'm tired now. I remember practicing to use auto-injectors of atropine and 2-Pam Chloride when I was at Ft Jackson in 1983. I was surprised to see that's still the emergency treatment for exposure to nerve agents. This is the first time I've worn this kind of protective equipment since I was in the Army 20 years ago. I found it, I don't know, disturbing maybe, that I'm now doing the same type of training as a 44-year old cop that I was doing as a 21 year old soldier. Our world has changed.

***

So, what do you do when you're all worn out at the end of a day like this?

Buy some new Christmas lights! I did this--went to Target and bought new lights for the front of the house, and did a little incidental Christmas shopping along the way. Then came home and drank several chocolate vodka martinis while watching the Daily Show as outlined above. And now my outlook has brightened considerably.

What are they looking for?

When they visit the Compound?

In Bratislava they want to know about ska music.

Wives of deer hunters in Pembine, Wisconsin, want to know about deep fried venison leg.

Someone in Middleboro, Massachussetts, asks why the roast couldn't be here.

A freak in Essen, Nordrhein-Westfalen is looking for "horror snail" whatever the hell that is.

Someone with deer meat on his hands in Saint Paul, Minnesota needs information about venison grinding.

In Mankato, Minnesota they're curious about FantaSuite hotel porn.

There are no lizards in Hinsdale, Illinois, that I know of. But someone there is interested in hypnotizing lizards.

Rockabilly.

Retro hairstyles holiday 2006. Speaking of which, I'm gonna get me one of those later this week!

An intrepid herb fan from New Delhi, India, needed the chive/basil market report.

The Swiss are so serious, and precise. They are busy pondering the meaning of waits time analysis napoleon "carnival saloon". How can they make such damn fine watches, and waste time here?

I fear that Sprawling Ramshackle Compound has become a favored skulking ground for deer enthusiasts. In Millbrook, Ontario, they need more recipes for "deep fried venison".

Oh, one more gross thing

I'm not sure if this was supposed to be a music video, or a beer commercial, or a softcore porn film or what. But it is gross.

And in other gross news, a Wisconsin judge dismissed a motion by accused deer-f*cker Bryan James Hathaway, and the case will go forward. Deer carcasses across the upper midwest breathe a sigh of relief. Or something like that.

Decoration Truck Monday

Driving to and from Iowa was just like this:



Thank you Dena. Before she sent me this link, I'd never heard of Dekotora. Now I have, and so have you.

Now what?

I don't feel so good.

Thanksgiving was great, no doubt about it. Lured by the promise of the catchy tune you see to the right, I tried out a 3 day long diet plan consisting mostly of meat. Meat, and also coffee, alcohol and pie. For the past two nights I've had terrible dreams in which I'm taunted by aggressive pudgy little chefs, some of whom sport evil goatees.

See, here's the thing--I normally eat really well, lots of fruit and vegetables, and I drink plenty of water too. But I need to stay away from fried food the way an alcoholic needs to stay away from gin mills. Once I dropped that first turkey in the fat last weekend I yelled GO FOR IT BUBS to the awful hillbilly inside , and there was no stopping myself. This weekend comes to a close with me sitting here, my eyes dull and my skin vaguely shiny, a deep-fried version of Ray Milland as Don Birnam. First the frying made me feel powerful and euphoric; later it just made me full.

I think I'll be fine in a day or so, once I'm back to my normal routine.

I found out this weekend that you can deep-fry an entire 8 pound ham, and it's delicious!

We did something that we haven't done in years, as a family--visited antique stores and thrift shops. Guess what? It's still pretty easy to find a lot of really cool stuff once you get a few hours away from places like Chicago. Like the booklet that this picture is taken from:

Medley of Meat Recipes, published by the American Meat Institute sometime (I think) in the first half of the 20th century.

I got this and a bunch of other neat old stuff, along with some skinny ties in perfect condition. I even managed to sneak in a little Christmas shopping for MizBubs and the girls.

And now, it's time for bed.

Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

I feel like the luckiest man alive most days; today is good because I get to give thanks in a more formal setting. I hope that, wherever today finds you, you're able to enjoy some quiet moment.

Take care everyone. Let's all get together in a couple of days and swap recipes and zany drunken relative stories.

Tagged: my childhood crushes

I'm posting from SRC's annex at an undisclosed location in Iowa. Upon signing on today I discovered that I've been tagged by urban sophisticate Coaster Punchman, and must disclose my childhood crushes forthwith.

1) An anonymous Playboy magazine centerfold, circa mid to late 60's. I can't remember how I found this, but I brought it to school with me when I was in kindergarten. According to my parents, I was very innocent about the whole thing. I just remember her in the classic 60's Playboy pose, the most beautiful woman in the world. In hindsight, I'm sure this set the pattern for my lifelong love of curvy women with retro hairstyles.

2) Julie Newmar as Catwoman on the Batman TV series.
3) Carolyn Jones as Morticia Addams

Supposedly I told various adults at cocktail parties, when I was little, that Catwoman was my girlfriend.

4) My babysitter Maureen Hogan. She would entertain me with stories of other families she babysat for. My favorite was the story of her babysitting for some people who had no furniture other than two of those plastic pop art chairs shaped like human hands, and one of those egg shaped chairs. And a big potted plant. I was in 3 or 4th grade, and she seemed like the most worldly, exotic woman in the world. She drank tea and wrote poetry. She had, according to a conversation I overheard between my parents and her parents, a "wild streak." She was probably about 15 at the time.


5) LNU, Felicia. This would've been in 5th or 6th grade at Henry Longfellow school in Teaneck, NJ. I wanted to be her boyfriend, and I remember having dreams about marrying her. But now I can't remember if we ever even spoke to each other. I remember her, but I can't remember how I knew her.

Thanksgiving dinner: 2 days, 8 hours and counting

In a large skillet, over medium heat, render the bacon until crispy.

Half-drunk and happy

What a great weekend!

We are officially done with the 5th annual MizBubs' family early Thanksgiving celebration. No fires, no explosions, no visits to the emergency room. Unfortunately my nephews couldn't be here this year, and that reduced the level of good-natured inebriated zaniness somewhat. But we soldiered on, and it worked out fine.

This year we had more (and better, I think) food than ever: deep-fried Cajun turkey and deep-fried venison steak, roast garlic mashed potatoes, rosemary roasted green beans, a beautiful salad with blue cheese and pears, cornbread andouille stuffing, and spicy pumpkin soup for a starter. I think, in retrospect, the only thing missing was that none of our dishes called for bacon or bacon fat. I plan to remedy that next weekend, for the big event on Thanksgiving day.

We had 18 people for dinner, counting younguns. What a blast.

One big treat this weekend was I got to see my brother and his daughter, my niece Delaney. She is, without a doubt, I think the best, most agreeable child I've ever seen. They were visiting my mom's house, and I got to pop in there and say hi on my way to Costco to buy 5 gallons of fat for turkey frying.

My eldest daughter, the Mad Seamstress, my brother in law and his wife and I all got up at 7am this morning to run in the 30th Annual Lincolnwood Turkey Trot. I think this is the fourth or fifth year we've done this. We eat like pigs, then get all likkered up Saturday night, smoke cigars (well, me and my brother in law Shane do, anyway) and then get up and run a 5k race first thing Sunday morning. The first year we did this we ran the 10k; we've since come to our senses and gone the short distance.

Anyway, this year was unique. I haven't run in about two months, so I knew I'd be pokey. My daughter hasn't run at all this year. And Shane...well. Let me tell you about Shane. He's my hero--a total crash test dummy, in the best possible way. He's a few years older than me, far more athletic than I've ever been, and he hurls himself into outdoor endeavors with such reckless enthusiasm that he not infrequently winds up in the emergency room. Years ago, I hoped to outrun him in a 5k race in Fredericksburg, Texas, because he was recovering from a biking accident that resulted in major shoulder surgery for him. He ran in a sling and still beat me. That's the kind of guy he is.

This year would have provided a golden opportunity, had I bothered to run or train at all in the past 2 months. See, about 4 weeks ago, Shane had a surfing accident. He got caught in a strong current, and found himself being thrashed, repeatedly, against a barnacle-encrusted jetty, until two fishermen pulled him out of the water. His legs and feet were cut to ribbons, and he described trying to clean his wounds in one of those little beach showers, watching strips of flesh and meat drop off his limbs. His legs looked like this, and his feet looked like this, just 4 short weeks ago. And today he once again kicked my ass and outran me. For that matter, my daughter, who I lovingly coaxed along for 3 miles with encouraging and inspiring words as she threatened, alternately, to vomit or walk, decided to lengthen her stride at the end and also finished ahead of me.

Now it's on to Thanksgiving day, and Iowa. Laissez les bon temps roulez.

Deer Season

It's deer season, or it's about to be, most places here in the midwest. Last night we cooked up a couple pounds of venison steak (my friend killed it last year and had it butchered and frozen) along with our turkey, and it was mighty tasty. Yes, I've decided I like deer.

But not like Bryan James Hathaway, of Superior, Wisconsin. He got caught f*cking a deer carcass by the side of the road. His defense?

...public defender Fredric Anderson, argued that since the deer was dead, it was not considered an animal and the charge should be dismissed.

``The statute does not prohibit one from having sex with a carcass,'' Anderson wrote.

You can read more about Mr. Hathaway here, and you can see his glassy-eyed mugshot here on the Smoking Gun page.

What is it with Wisconsin and necrophilia?

5 Gross Things

Coaster Punchman kinda group-tagged everyone to post their gross top 5, and then Dale elevated it to a double dare.

Hmmm. I don't have any stories about soiling myself, but I'll do the best I can.

1) We went out with friends to celebrate MizBubs' 30th birthday. We ended up staying out way too late and getting way too drunk (thank you Bucket o' Suds), and ended up spending the night at our friend's place in Wrigleyville. We woke up late next morning and finally decided to get something to eat after noon; we all decided that noodles and broth might be nice, so we headed over to a Japanese restaurant on Clark Street--I think it was Matsuya. MizBubs ordered some type of noodles with fermented paste of something on top of it. I was suspicious when she ordered it (I suspected she was still a bit tipsy, her judgment clouded) but when it arrived I went from suspicious to disgusted. It smelled, strongly, of rotten cheese. I had to excuse myself from the table, quickly, and gag a little. I came back, and her noodles sat there uneaten for the rest of the meal. It put me off drinking, and Japanese food, for weeks. I can still remember that smell, and it's the first thing I think of when trying to think of something gross.

2) I was a new evidence technician when I got called to the scene of a bad crash. A guy had decided to kill himself by driving directly into the back of a parked semi trailer. He flinched at the last moment so that he only partially decapitated himself, wedging his car underneath the trailer. He left a multi-page suicide note in the car, which I had to retrieve by crawling in through a side window. Another guy basically held my legs as I slid through the opening. When I came out I had bits of brain and goo on my chest, arms and thighs.

3) I got sent to check on an elderly woman, whose neighbors were worried about her. The mail and newspapers were piled up on the front porch, and her car was in the garage. We forced the door open, and were hit in the face by the smell of shit and garbage, and something burning on the stove. The entire front room was filled with stacks of papers and garbage about 3-5' tall, with a narrow walkway toward the back of the house. The burning smell was coming from two hot dogs in a pot on the stove; the water had boiled away and the dogs were two smoldering, black ashy tubes. We couldn't find the lady who lived there, but judging from the smell we knew she was dead. Then we heard a very slight voice say "help." We made our way into a bathroom, forcing that door open as well. The floor, bathtub and walls were smeared with shit and blood. The woman, a degenerate drunk, had fallen off the toilet, probably a day or so earlier, and was wedged in between the wall and the toilet. Hurray for firefighters, America's heroes--they came in to get her out of there and took her to the hospital. That was the first time I got exposed to tuberculosis.

4) I had a black standard poodle, basically the finest dog I've ever known. Smart, funny, loyal and brave. Unfortunately, he had a phenomenal knack for finding old bandages and used feminine hygiene products. Finding them and then sauntering into a room full of people, happily chewing away on his prize.

5) Number 5 is a tossup between a dead guy who had a really interesting maggot mass under some skin that had slipped on his leg, giving his leg a shimmery, undulating appearance, and the dead guy, stuck to his kitchen floor, whose arm popped off when we tried to move him.

Happy Hanksgiving

Happy Hanksgiving everyone.

I got what I think is the best holiday email card ever from my good friend Hank. He's hosting his Hanksgiving celebration today out in tornado alley. We can't be there, because we're having an early Thanksgiving dinner here for some of MizBubs' wide-ranging extended family.

Yes, the unregulated propane flame is blasting away under the turkey fryer, heating the oil. In a few minutes I'll have to go outside and monitor it constantly, once it gets hotter. It's 2:00 pm and the drinking light is on. Time to put on sturdy boots and an extra flannel shirt, then head out to the back yard.

YEEE HAW.

Have a great weekend everybody!

Calling Young Homemakers

My friend Dena sent me a link to A Subscription for Despair over at yet another entertaining midwestern blog, A Hole in the Head.

The writer talks about a stack of Women's Household magazines from the mid-1960's that he bought at a yard sale. Whew. It really does look bleak.

That got me thinking. Miz Bubs recently got her first issue of Craft magazine, and she and the Mad Seamstress have been busy planning new projects. We found out about Craft at the Renegade Craft fair in Wicker Park earlier this year--a hipster arts n crafts show.

So here's what I want to know: how are all these tattooed, Bettie Page-looking, "I'm foxy and crafty" chicks (and the men who love them) going to seem 40 years from now when someone buys a stack of Bust magazines at a yard sale?

Friday Random Ten, November 17

Here it is, in all its useless glory:

Ain’t Got No Home – Carl Mann

The Black Angel’s Death Song – Velvet Underground

Doctor Finklestein/In the Forest – Nightmare Before Christmas Soundtrack

Lonesome Town – Cramps

Down in the Bottom – Howlin Wolf

Lucky & Wild – Josie Kreuzer

Danny Boy – Johnny Cash

I Fought Pirhanas – White Stripes

Anasthasia – The Bill Smith Combo

Stop Breaking Down – White Stripes

Guess I'll have to go post this on American Idle now. Well, as soon as they're awake anyway.

Damn you, Dale, for ever giving me this idea.

Blowtorch pizza

I am so proud. My eldest just came home from the Rat Patrol Thanksgiving dinner. She brought ingredients to make homemade pizza. Which she made, and her boyfriend Cody cooked. With a blowtorch. On the wooden back porch of an apartment in Chicago. The tenant came out at one point and commented "that's probably violating some kind of fire code" and then returned inside.

Yes, my daughter made a blowtorch pizza. It was, by her account, a crowd favorite. "Hey, you got to try some of the blowtorch pizza."

I have always had a knack with fire. But now, clearly, the torch has been passed.

Is it just me?

Or does Nancy Pelosi remind anyone else of Jennifer Wilbanks, the runaway bride?

Let's listen to some ska music

Beth's feature on the English Beat album I Just Can't Stop It reminded me how much I liked ska music, and how much I haven't been listening to it lately. I immediately got I Just Can't Stop It loaded into iTunes, and am now looking for some other old favorites like The Specials, and The Selecter.

So now it's Tuesday morning. I stayed up late, slept late, and now I get to sit here with my eldest daughter, drinking coffee and listening to ska music. ^_^

She's turned me on to a couple of bands that she likes, Mustard Plug and Streetlight Manifesto. My musical horizon shrinks, and then expands again.

Out of all those bands, though, I always liked The Specials best. So here's a video. Enjoy:

Monday morning asshole update

I read some more about Bob Sutton, author of The No Asshole Rule: Building a Civilized Workplace and Surviving One That Isn't. There's some good reading on his site, Work Matters.

It must be that it's Monday, the start of the work week, that's got me thinking about assholes. Mr. Sutton explains why he calls them assholes:

To start with authenticity, when I tangle with nasty person, I don’t think “what a jerk” or “what an abusive person.” The first thing that comes to mind is “what an asshole.” That is also the word that nearly everyone I know uses to describe these creeps, even though they may later censor it. ...

We teach our Ph.D. students at Stanford in the Center for Work, Technology and Organization who do ethnographies of the workplace that using foul language is sometimes necessary for providing accurate and realistic descriptions of what people say and how they feel. I believe that – in terms of both descriptive and emotional accuracy – other words are simply inferior for describing how persistently demeaning people act and, especially, the feelings they unleash in their victims.

In other posts, Sutton offers helpful metrics to identify assholes, and perhaps measure their degree of being assholes in order to manage them.

The No Asshole Rule

In my opinion this is the book title of the year:

The No Asshole Rule: Building a Civilized Workplace and Surviving One That Isn't

Guy Kawasaki of How to Change the World has an excellent review. According to Mr. Kawasaki

...it’s the definitive guide to understanding, counteracting, and not becoming an asshole. I am qualified to make this judgment because (a) I’ve been an asshole a few times and (b) been a victim of assholes more than a few times.

As Kawasaki says, the first step is recognizing who is an asshole. I'm going to quote him at length, and I encourage you to click on this link and read the rest of the article.

The first step is to recognize who is an asshole. Sutton’s blog cites one method. It’s called the Starbucks Test It goes like this: If you hear someone at Starbucks order a “decaf grande half-soy, half-low fat, iced vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extra dry, light ice, with one Sweet-n’-Low and one NutraSweet,” you’re in the presence of an asshole. It’s unlikely that this petty combination is necessary—the person ordering is trying to flex her power because she’s an asshole.

A second method is to use Suttons’s dirty-dozen list of everyday asshole actions:

1. Personal insults

2. Invading one’s personal territory

3. Uninvited personal contact

4. Threats and intimidation, both verbal and non-verbal

5. Sarcastic jokes and teasing used as insult delivery systems

6. Withering email flames

7. Status slaps intended to humiliate their victims

8. Public shaming or status degradation rituals

9. Rude interruptions

10. Two-faced attacks

11. Dirty looks

12. Treating people as if they are invisible

A third method—albeit the least reliable, scientific, and fair but the most fun—is to search Google with a person’s name (or a profession) plus “asshole.” This yields some interesting results.

Please help me with a research project

I'm doing a little informal research, and I'm hoping you can help me.

Please click on the link below, and view the short video. Ignore the hokey metal music that's been added as a soundtrack, and forget that it's a clip from the TV show Cops. Understand that this is a brief video clip taken from COPS and put on YouTube for entertainment (hence the lack of emphasis on police procedures like interviewing, and instead added emphasis on the takedown.) The added music obscures/drowns out some of the dialogue. Please assume that the subject being taken down has been identified as the offender in a fight, as described briefly in the video.

After you watch the clip, please scroll down and anser a few questions for me. You can post your answers as comments.

I have a few questions for you:

1) Is the police officer's use of force justified?

2) If not, why not?

3) If the officer had pepper spray, should he have used it?

4) The officer had a Taser. Should he have used it before putting his hands on the arrestee?

5) If the officer's use of force was not justified, what do you think he should have done?

6) Did you see any indication that the subject posed a threat to the police officer? If you did think the subject posed a threat, what did you see or hear to make you think that?

7) Did the officer's use of force offend or shock you?

Thanks for responding to this if you can. I'm doing some use-of-force training this week, and I plan on comparing your responses (you're my non-law-enforcement control group for now) to those of the cops in the class I'm teaching.

Thanks again!

Barbados faces horror of giant snail invasion

AP) BRIDGETOWN, Barbados A breed of giant, ravenous snails that first appeared in Barbados five years ago has thrived on the tropical island, destroying crops and prompting calls for the government to eliminate the slimy pests.

Authorities are organizing nocturnal snail hunts to combat the menace from these crop-munching, meningitis-transmitting mollusks.

As if the threat to our (by our I mean, mine, not the United States') rum imports isn't bad enough, even the West Virginia Department of Agriculture has sounded the alarm. And if West Virginia is threatened, Kentucky can't be far behind, with its clear water, rich fields of corn and many distilleries.

First the rum is gone, and then the bourbon.

Shake for me

November 10: Friday Random Ten, Pre-Dawn Edition

See, if you stay up late enough, and drink a few Effen Sexy cocktails, you can (if you work at it hard enough) convince yourself that you're actually an early bird, getting things done. Getting important things done, that is, and early. You're not just some sleep-deprived crank who works nights and spends too much time on the computer.

And, as you post this week's random shuffle choices, you'll feel the same satisfaction as if you'd gotten up early and run 6 miles. Or milked the cows, or whatever. Last week the Mad Seamstress and I sorted our music so that this week's list more accurately reflects what I'm likely to be listening to as I stew in my juices:

London is the Place For Me – Lord Beginner

A La Carte – James Holloway

Hang Me In A Bottle – Tom Waits (Alice Original Demos)

Railroad Blues – Woody Guthrie

Mean Mean Woman – The Rockers

Banzai Washout – Dick Dale

Howlin’ For My Baby – Howlin Wolf

Call of the Wighat – The Cramps

Nobody But My Baby – Fats Waller

I Walk The Line – Johnny Cash

Now it's squirrels

I've fallen down on the job.

Between Halloween and the recent elections, I've failed in performing one of the most important tasks here at the Compound: namely, warning you all of the rising wave of animal attacks. I aim to make up for lost time.

First it was alligators, then a variety of animals including monkeys and bears. And emus.

Now it's squirrels.

It's a good thing I've got two scrappy terriers to keep those furry little nut-eating bastards away from the compound. Hopefully the dogs stay loyal.

A moment of partisan gloating.

I feel better this morning.

Operation Enduring Occupation

Please vote. No matter how awful your local candidates are, at least one of them is better than Kang or Kodos:

I said, VOTE

Don't whine

VOTE!

Halloween's last gasp

The girls threw a nice little Halloween party at the compound this weekend. The nice thing about it was, it gave us an excuse to leave the Halloween decorations up a few days longer. That, and it gave us a good reason to rent a bunch more scary movies.

Our eldest had a banner week. She got to attend an evening with Tom Savini, and met him afterward. He even signed her copy of the original Dawn of the Dead. She followed this up by attending a small zombie walk on Halloween night. What a gal.

Our youngest sewed her own rag doll costume, and even put a wig together out of yarn. Clever girl.

Enjoy the pics and say goodbye to Halloween until next year.

The children are our future

This chick rocks so hard you don't even know it yet.

Finally, back to real news

Nude Couple's Feud Ends at Waffle House - Forbes.com

No wonder my brother in law eats three meals a day there when he's on the road.

Friday Random Ten, November 3

HOLY SHIT I'VE WASTED ANOTHER WEEK OF MY LIFE.

Sorry, I meant to say:

Golly, it's Friday again, and time for this week's random ten!

1) Get Your Gun – Marilyn Manson

2) Jumble, Jumble – White Stripes

3) The Sanity Assassin – Bauhaus

4) You Made A Hit – Ray Smith

5) Pulling Teeth – Green Day

6) Oakie Boogie – Jack Guthrie

7) Goons of Hazzard – Dead Kennedys

8) Iowa – Slipknot

9) Come On Home – Franz Ferdinand

10) The Living End – Jesus and Mary Chain

Go check out American Idle, Just a Cool Cat, or Dale to see more.

ADDED AT 9:20 PM:

I got an idea from my eldest, the Mad Seamstress. We were discussing the Friday Random Ten and she commented on how many of the songs in my lists were from her, or her sister. She posted her first Random Ten here, and what she did was make a separate library of her music, so that her shuffles would more accurately reflect her own musical tastes. I've done the same thing, so that next week's shuffle should be more Bubs, less Bubs' kids.

Political Compass

Tired of the old conservative/liberal, right/left political spectrum? I know I am. Drawing political orientation on a line that runs from left to right along an x axis seems limiting. After all, Martin Luther King and Joseph Stalin might both be described as "left" but that's clearly not very descriptive.

The folks at Political Compass have a more complete system that includes the traditional left/right, as well as a y axis that goes from libertarian to authoritarian.

Guess where I landed.

Manliest day ever

Today might have been one of my manliest days ever.

Without being too indelicate, let's say it started on a very positive marital note with the phenomenally talented and lovely MizBubs. After an invigorating shower I went to the kitchen and began grinding fresh venison to cook into some chili at the shooting range later. I suppose it would've been manlier if I'd driven to Wisconsin in a big truck, but still...

I spent the entire afternoon alternately cooking chili for a group of 21 cops, and shooting a variety of firearms: two Glock handguns, an AR-15, an M-14, an MP-5 and a Remington 870 shotgun. The chili was a great success and I got lots of compliments on it. Then we shot some more, at night, which is cool because the muzzle flashes are really impressive. My team won a shooting relay so we didn't have to pick up all the brass from the range, and then I did some more shotgun shooting, which is very manly because it makes your shoulder throb. And then I shot the AK-47. Oh yeah, and I did this while smoking a big fat cigar.

Finally, we cleaned up and drank some bourbon from a flask before leaving. In the words of Teddy Roosevelt, this was "bulliest yet" since it was now in the low 30's and windy. And dark. The only disappointment of the day was the fact that the snow flurries never turned into a real snowstorm.

And here I am now, with my adoring and fabulous bride, bragging about my exploits while I suck down some more Wild Turkey. It feels good. Ahhhh.

The CTA is onto me

Ever have one of those moments? The kind when you catch a bit of dialogue from the television or radio, or hear part of a public service announcement, and at that precise moment whatever random statement you heard seems aimed directly at you? I had a moment like that this morning, on the el train headed downtown.

Just as I got on I heard this announcement:

"Soliciting and gambling are prohibited on CTA vehicles."

Damn it. Now I'll never be able to sell enough tube socks, umbrellas and incense to bankroll my floating shell game.

Here we go

This is me, about to light the fuse, and I have that same sense of fierce determination and anticipation.

One of two things is about to happen: I'll either be shot forcefully (and successfully, I hope) into the holiday season and all its activities, joys and demands...

Or I'll crash headlong over the side of a cliff, the firing Acme rocket still strapped to my carcass.

Either way, there's no turning back now, and I kind of like how that feels.

...

I work rotating shifts and change hours each month; today marks the first day of working evenings (3:30pm to midnight.) I just finished a month on days, and one of the advantages of investigations is that I no longer work midnights. Working evenings is great--you get a lot of stuff done during the day, you're not bothered with as many administrative tasks, and you meet more interesting people at work.

This month, though, is shaping up to be even more of a chaotic blur than last month was. The downside of working evenings is that you still have plenty of work-related stuff to do during the day: court and training, for instance, so that you frequently end up working 12-16 hour days, you end up being awake from 7am until 1 or 2 am, and there's always the possibility of staying late or getting called in early. In a couple of hours I'm heading down to the Daley Center to testify in a civil trial that's related to a forgery arrest I made nearly 2 years ago.

I've got to prepare for firearms training tomorrow. My department uses an outdoor range in Wisconsin about 6 times a year; the outdoor range days are great. We shoot all the long guns (MP-5, AR-15, M-14 and shotgun) as well as running a lot of handgun courses that we can't do on an indoor range. It's a whole day outdoors, and we usually grill while we're up there. It's a good time. I usually try and bring up some of the compound arsenal to keep my skills up.

Tomorrow's training will end with a night shoot after dinner, and I'm in charge of dinner-- chili for 20+. So I need to get my propane tank refilled and my turkey fryer ready to travel, since it's got enough capacity for 15 pounds of meat. One of my friends gave me a bunch of venison steaks to cut up into the chili grind, and I'm looking forward to that. Tomorrow will run from noon until 9pm, but that counts as my workday.

Friday is a normal workday. Nothing extra planned there. Yet.

Saturday I'm heading out to Mooseheart, Illinois for a police and fire honor guard competition. Not to compete, just to observe and see how other departments structure and run their drill teams. Most important, Saturday is the night of the girls' Halloween party. OH, that reminds me. Friday will be for cleaning the house before I go to work.

I took two extra days off next week so I can work a side job for a friend of mine and generate some extra lettuce for the holidays.

The weekend of the 17/18 is Crispin Glover at the Music Box. That same weekend some of MizBubs' family come up from Texas, and we all have an early Thanksgiving here. Then on Sunday morning we all get up half-hungover and run the Lincolnwood Turkey Trot. After the first time when we all did the 10k, we got wise and now run the 5k.

Then it's time to get ready for Thanksgiving, and our annual trip out to Iowa. This year's event is complicated, though. There's been some upheaval in the family there, and it's not clear how any of it's going to play out; one of the people involved hasn't really spoken to anyone else in the family about it yet. We'll see what happens.

My coffee is finished. It's time to get going.

See you next month.

Happy Halloween

Law enforcement quote of the week: Halloween Edition

"Kill the brain and you kill the ghoul."

"Beat 'em or burn 'em. They go up pretty easy."

"Yeah, they're dead, they're all messed up."

-Sheriff McClelland, unknown county in rural Pennsylvania, commenting on an outbreak of zombie attacks.

Five Things You Don't Know About MizBubs

1) I am not a girl-genius.

2) In 1979, I rode on Ozzy Osborne's tour bus. Unfortunately, I didn't know who he was at the time.

3) I used to teach Sunday School at our church.

4) I once used paper towels and strapping tape to bandage a drill injury on my hand. I subsequently received 7 stitches.

5) An ancestor, Abraham Clark of New Jersey, signed the Declaration of Independence.

After the party

I learned a valuable lesson after the party last night. That lesson is, don't apply liquid latex close to your hairline, or on your sideburns. It will hurt coming off.

On a brighter note, I now have a couple of truly disgusting flaps of bloody latex, complete with fake beard hairs stuck to them, in a plastic bag.

Looks like some lucky coworker is going to get a surprise on his desk in the next couple of days.

Hubbub

There was plenty of that today. Running around, all three of the Bubs girls sewing like crazy to get ready for the big Halloween party tonight. This is what our dining room looked like late Friday night. It looked even woolier by Saturday afternoon.

A friend of ours throws a really great Halloween party every year. We have three big social occasions every year, and this friend throws two of them--Halloween and New Year. We do 4th of July. Anyway, MizBubs ended up cancelling her trip to Iowa this weekend and we were able to go to the party together!! YAY!

More to follow.

The dangers of pole dancing, Part II

In this lesson we learn about gravity:

The dangers of pole dancing

After reading about the Peekaboo Pole Dancing Set controversy, I wondered if we, as a society, were facing an epidemic of pole-dancing danger. So I took on the task of googling pole-dancing and its variants. After hours and hours of looking at pictures of pole dancers, and watching countless videos of pole dancing, I am now ready to make my report.

Put briefly, pole dancing is indeed dangerous, especially for the untrained, young and possibly alcohol-impaired. Popular Science has an interesting illustration of the physics behind a pole dancing mishap. A young woman narrowly escapes serious side-boob exposure only to learn, the hard way, what a fulcrum is:

After Pat's Birthday -- A letter from Kevin Tillman

For those of you who don't remember, Pat Tillman was a safety with the Arizona Cardinals. After September 11, he walked away from his $3.9 million contract and joined the United States Army, along with his brother Kevin (himself a major league baseball prospect.) Both brothers became US Army Rangers and served in Afghanistan, where Pat was killed in 2004. It turned out that Pat was killed by friendly fire, and the Pentagon kept the truth from his family and the public until well after his memorial service.

His brother Kevin left the Army in 2005, and has now spoken out as a fierce critic of the war in Iraq and of the current administration. You can find the original letter here. I've reprinted Kevin's letter in its entirety:

…

It is Pat’s birthday on November 6, and elections are the day after. It gets me thinking about a conversation I had with Pat before we joined the military. He spoke about the risks with signing the papers. How once we committed, we were at the mercy of the American leadership and the American people. How we could be thrown in a direction not of our volition. How fighting as a soldier would leave us without a voice… until we got out.

Much has happened since we handed over our voice:

Somehow we were sent to invade a nation because it was a direct threat to the American people, or to the world, or harbored terrorists, or was involved in the September 11 attacks, or received weapons-grade uranium from Niger, or had mobile weapons labs, or WMD, or had a need to be liberated, or we needed to establish a democracy, or stop an insurgency, or stop a civil war we created that can’t be called a civil war even though it is. Something like that.

Somehow our elected leaders were subverting international law and humanity by setting up secret prisons around the world, secretly kidnapping people, secretly holding them indefinitely, secretly not charging them with anything, secretly torturing them. Somehow that overt policy of torture became the fault of a few “bad apples” in the military.

Somehow back at home, support for the soldiers meant having a five-year-old kindergartener scribble a picture with crayons and send it overseas, or slapping stickers on cars, or lobbying Congress for an extra pad in a helmet. It’s interesting that a soldier on his third or fourth tour should care about a drawing from a five-year-old; or a faded sticker on a car as his friends die around him; or an extra pad in a helmet, as if it will protect him when an IED throws his vehicle 50 feet into the air as his body comes apart and his skin melts to the seat.

Somehow the more soldiers that die, the more legitimate the illegal invasion becomes.

Somehow American leadership, whose only credit is lying to its people and illegally invading a nation, has been allowed to steal the courage, virtue and honor of its soldiers on the ground.

Somehow those afraid to fight an illegal invasion decades ago are allowed to send soldiers to die for an illegal invasion they started.

Somehow faking character, virtue and strength is tolerated.

Somehow profiting from tragedy and horror is tolerated.

Somehow the death of tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of people is tolerated.

Somehow subversion of the Bill of Rights and The Constitution is tolerated.

Somehow suspension of Habeas Corpus is supposed to keep this country safe.

Somehow torture is tolerated.

Somehow lying is tolerated.

Somehow reason is being discarded for faith, dogma, and nonsense.

Somehow American leadership managed to create a more dangerous world.

Somehow a narrative is more important than reality.

Somehow America has become a country that projects everything that it is not and condemns everything that it is.

Somehow the most reasonable, trusted and respected country in the world has become one of the most irrational, belligerent, feared, and distrusted countries in the world.

Somehow being politically informed, diligent, and skeptical has been replaced by apathy through active ignorance.

Somehow the same incompetent, narcissistic, virtueless, vacuous, malicious criminals are still in charge of this country.

Somehow this is tolerated.

Somehow nobody is accountable for this.

In a democracy, the policy of the leaders is the policy of the people. So don’t be shocked when our grandkids bury much of this generation as traitors to the nation, to the world and to humanity. Most likely, they will come to know that “somehow” was nurtured by fear, insecurity and indifference, leaving the country vulnerable to unchecked, unchallenged parasites.

Luckily this country is still a democracy. People still have a voice. People still can take action. It can start after Pat’s birthday.

Brother and Friend of Pat Tillman,

Kevin Tillman

5 things you don't know about me

1) I used to have a pretty good singing voice before the Army.

2) I have a horrible raging temper (but it's gotten better.)

3) I cry easily at movies.

4) I used to have a friendly relationship with a black rhinoceros, and she'd let me pet her on her prehensile upper lip nearly every afternoon.

5) I never proposed to MizBubs.

Friday Random Ten: October 27

It's that time of the week again. On your marks, get set...shuffle:

1) Astro Zombie – The Misfits

2) Hold the Fort – IWW Rebel Voices

3) Bukowski – Modest Mouse

4) I’d Tell You But – Anti Flag

5) Temple of Love – Sisters of Mercy

6) It Coulda Been Me – Social Distortion

7) Grand Coulee Dam – Woody Guthrie

8) Autonomy – The Buzzcocks

9) Fall of Because – Killing Joke

10) Poison Pen – Bauhaus

Post your list on American Idle and see what the rest of the hep world is doing on a Friday morning.

Just in time for the holidays

Ah, the spectacle of the declining imperial power that is Great Britain.

Evidently our exports of MTV and Jerry Springer must've really triggered something dark and horrible in the British psyche. How do I know this? Because British store chain Tesco is advertising this toy:

Peekaboo Pole Dancing Set.

Sure, it says "adults only" on the website. But you find it by searching under "toys and games." Karen Gallimore, righteously indignant British consumer, is pissed off.

Maybe Lulu can find a way to work this into her unique school fundraiser idea.

New Orleans Horror Story

This is a photo of 28-year old Zackery Bowen and 30-year old Addie Hall of New Orleans. They met during Hurricane Katrina, fell in love, and over the next year engaged in a volatile love affair.

On Wednesday, October 18^th, Bowen jumped to his death from the Omni Royal Orleans hotel in the French Quarter. In his pocket was a suicide note; the note also directed officers to go to his apartment on Rampart Street, above the New Orleans Voodoo Spiritual Temple.

There police found the remains of Addie Hall. Bowen had strangled her on October 5^th, had sex with the corpse, then dismembered and cooked her remains.

...

I have always loved southern Louisiana, and especially New Orleans, from my first visit there in 1998. I love the premium that New Orleans residents place on hospitality and having a good time, but what really fascinates me is that just beneath all that “laissez les bon temps rouler is a deep undercurrent of decay, madness and horror.

This story has it all: a good-looking but dissipated young couple, thrown together during a devastating hurricane, both drifters (he moved from Los Angeles in 1996, she from Pennsylvania) who ended up in New Orleans working in the hospitality industry (he as a grocery delivery man for Matassa'’s and bartender at Buffa's, she as a bartender at one of my favorite clubs, the Spotted Cat.) This being a New Orleans story, there are drugs, guns, booze, sex, and voodoo.

Addie Hall told friends she had been abused as a child. Zackery Bowen claimed he served in the Army in Bosnia and Iraq, and, when drinking, would mutter darkly about the government "“messing him over." No one has been able to confirm his military service yet, and my bet is that, if he even served at all, he got bounced out during training. The couple stayed in the French Quarter after Katrina, refusing to evacuate, and became local celebrities. Hall ensured extra police presence around their apartment by flashing her breasts at passing police cars.

They both look familiar to me; I can'’t decide if it's because I actually ran into them during our travels, or that they just look like so many other young people you run into in the French Quarter or Faubourg Marigny.

The New Orleans Times-Picayune has complete coverage, including background, photos and video, here.

More fun with google

A frighteningly accurate portrait of my interests and hobbies emerges from the most recent batch of google searches leading to the compound. I can only hope that visitors from Korea and Germany now have a more complete understanding of the glory that is my America.

Wisconsin lawsuits venereal disease

biggest bubs

emu (in Korea, Sprawling Ramshackle Compound is a leading source of information on emus)

Chicago marathon winner slip video

Germans want to know "have you ever"

hurrican katrina alligator attacks

"licking the flesh"

educators

hypnotizing lizards

Halloween is coming...

This is what the front of the compound looked like in the rain the other night. I hope we have a few more nights like this before Halloween...

Thanks for the costume ideas. Right now I'm trying to decide between two easy ones:

Dead cowboy--I already have the clothes and zombie makeup; MizBubs suggested I go with a noose around my neck as a dead rustler.

George Hamilton--I go and get spray-tanned to a dapper yet ridiculous dark brown, dye the hair black and wear a white terrycloth robe.

Blue Monday

Lord I'm in a funk this morning, and for no good reason. Part of it is that I have to spend the afternoon and evening interviewing applicants for an open detective position, and I'm not looking forward to it. Also, MizBubs is going out of town next weekend, which--aside from the obvious loss of consortium I'll be suffering--means that I have to come up with a new costume idea for the Halloween party. We were going to go as Lizzie Borden and her father, and I got some really, really good gore makeup planned, but alas, it is not to be.

I should at least feel satisfied that I finished the fence repair this weekend, and the damaged tree is down. MizBubs, girl genius, rigged a climbing harness and some improvised safety headgear for me and held the lines steady so I could get to the high limbs safely, scampering to and fro like a lemur with a chainsaw. Then she applied ice, soothing words and beverages as needed.

Here are the before and after pics. The main section of replaced fence is just above and to the right of the stump in the "after" photo.