Monday, November 23, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
I Just Want You to Laugh
Continuing with what seems to be developing into a blog about my many youthful, and not-so-youthful mistakes:
I was honored today to be mentioned by name on bastinptc's blog. He related how I had complained that his posts had become too short. The post today was very long, and very good. He ended with, "Is that long enough, Crash?" I came so close, so close, to saying that it was TOO long, but wisely held back and merely made the threat. If you want to be put in your place effectively, just irritate that guy. Given my "social slowness," it can sometimes take days to realize he has done it to me. By the way, I urge you to read ALL his posts, from when he began his blog. You will be amazed. If you don't like poker, there is much other wisdom. And a separate web site, with professional art and writings, found in his profile. See link in upper-left here. I do play poker, but that is the last reason I read his blog. Say, does anyone know the meaning of the word, "shill?"
Why didn't I say his post was too long? Another semi-youthful indiscretion came to mind just in time. Decades ago, DW and I were in Hartford visiting her family and long-term friends. One of her oldest friends, I think from grade-school, is a bartender in a nice neighborhood bar on the edge of a bad part of Hartford. (Suzi, another blogger on my list, with "Footnotes," knows him.) We were there to say hello. He was serving me a sample series of local beers in small mugs. I whined that the mugs were too small, so he served the next one in a big mug. I said, "Well....this mug is too big." I thought it was funny. He did not.
I should explain, he is not just a bartender; he is a combo bartender/bouncer. And man, can he bounce. Listed at 6 ft 6 inches, but seems a LOT bigger. Much poundage. Full mountain man beard. Outstanding frowns, growls, swagger, etc. Voice seems to emit from an unnatural, distant part of his body. Anyway, after I complained about the too big mug, he seemed to grow in size, like those lizards that flare out parts of their head. He leaned over close to me, looked me in the eye, and said in a strangely quiet, gentle voice, "I have had other customers like you." I instantly shrank to maybe 5 feet tall, and my skin felt funny. To this day, I do not know if he was really angry or just playing.
On another visit, we were in there, and he made us his special martinis, which were good. Later, he took us, his kids, and his DW to dinner at another place. I had another martini. When the waiter came by, I effusively told him to compliment the bartender on the outstanding martini, that some I had recently were poorly made, etc. Our friend started to look like he had just lost quads to a straight flush.
Why do I do things like that? I don't know. Not witty, not highly funny. It's the best I can do. I just want you to laugh. An odd part of my life; my skills don't match my desires. Same with something as shallow as how I look. As a young man, my looks were opposite to who I was. It was a one in a zillion shot that DW could see through it. I really hope Wolynski, a pro comic, will comment on this need to be a clown. Shilling for her too. See upper left.
I was honored today to be mentioned by name on bastinptc's blog. He related how I had complained that his posts had become too short. The post today was very long, and very good. He ended with, "Is that long enough, Crash?" I came so close, so close, to saying that it was TOO long, but wisely held back and merely made the threat. If you want to be put in your place effectively, just irritate that guy. Given my "social slowness," it can sometimes take days to realize he has done it to me. By the way, I urge you to read ALL his posts, from when he began his blog. You will be amazed. If you don't like poker, there is much other wisdom. And a separate web site, with professional art and writings, found in his profile. See link in upper-left here. I do play poker, but that is the last reason I read his blog. Say, does anyone know the meaning of the word, "shill?"
Why didn't I say his post was too long? Another semi-youthful indiscretion came to mind just in time. Decades ago, DW and I were in Hartford visiting her family and long-term friends. One of her oldest friends, I think from grade-school, is a bartender in a nice neighborhood bar on the edge of a bad part of Hartford. (Suzi, another blogger on my list, with "Footnotes," knows him.) We were there to say hello. He was serving me a sample series of local beers in small mugs. I whined that the mugs were too small, so he served the next one in a big mug. I said, "Well....this mug is too big." I thought it was funny. He did not.
I should explain, he is not just a bartender; he is a combo bartender/bouncer. And man, can he bounce. Listed at 6 ft 6 inches, but seems a LOT bigger. Much poundage. Full mountain man beard. Outstanding frowns, growls, swagger, etc. Voice seems to emit from an unnatural, distant part of his body. Anyway, after I complained about the too big mug, he seemed to grow in size, like those lizards that flare out parts of their head. He leaned over close to me, looked me in the eye, and said in a strangely quiet, gentle voice, "I have had other customers like you." I instantly shrank to maybe 5 feet tall, and my skin felt funny. To this day, I do not know if he was really angry or just playing.
On another visit, we were in there, and he made us his special martinis, which were good. Later, he took us, his kids, and his DW to dinner at another place. I had another martini. When the waiter came by, I effusively told him to compliment the bartender on the outstanding martini, that some I had recently were poorly made, etc. Our friend started to look like he had just lost quads to a straight flush.
Why do I do things like that? I don't know. Not witty, not highly funny. It's the best I can do. I just want you to laugh. An odd part of my life; my skills don't match my desires. Same with something as shallow as how I look. As a young man, my looks were opposite to who I was. It was a one in a zillion shot that DW could see through it. I really hope Wolynski, a pro comic, will comment on this need to be a clown. Shilling for her too. See upper left.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
They Should Be Offended
I play at these sites, as do at least 2 of my best readers. Look what is said about those other 2:
http://www.pokersites.com/comparison/absolute-poker-v-ultimate-bet
Not related to above offensive link:
http://www.pokersites.com/comparison/absolute-poker-v-ultimate-bet
Not related to above offensive link:
Monday, November 16, 2009
In his "Spoiled Baby" Mood
For some reason, he is about twice the size he looks here. DW must have massive hands:
Sunday, November 15, 2009
GREAT NEWS!! Matchbooks.
Well, we are finished with Corpus Christi. 1970 was a very mobile year for me; lived in 4 places. Next was Norfolk, Virginia to a school called FAETULANT: Fleet Airborne Electronics Training Unit, Atlantic. Flows nice off the tongue, eh? There was no flying involved here, so we had more time to get into trouble. My roommate had a giant, mean-looking German Shepherd named Milton. Gentle as a lamb.
One night, the 2 of us (not Milton, of course) went to a bar and proceeded to irritate some guys to the point that they followed us home. There was a knock at the front door. Milton was in the back room lazily trying to snap flies out of the air. Roommate answered door. 4 angry guys wanting to fight. Roommate yelled, "Milton!" Milton sleepily emerged from the back, expecting to meet some new friends. Roommate pretended he was trying to hold Milton back, yelling "Down, Milton. Get back, boy!" All the while he was pulling Milton forward. A great acting job. The 4 guys were fooled and took off.
The stay in Norfolk was only 2 months, so I am grouping the matchbooks.
One night, the 2 of us (not Milton, of course) went to a bar and proceeded to irritate some guys to the point that they followed us home. There was a knock at the front door. Milton was in the back room lazily trying to snap flies out of the air. Roommate answered door. 4 angry guys wanting to fight. Roommate yelled, "Milton!" Milton sleepily emerged from the back, expecting to meet some new friends. Roommate pretended he was trying to hold Milton back, yelling "Down, Milton. Get back, boy!" All the while he was pulling Milton forward. A great acting job. The 4 guys were fooled and took off.
The stay in Norfolk was only 2 months, so I am grouping the matchbooks.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Bowser Again
Remember the big black dog we take care of now and then? He's bigger and stronger than ever. We were walking him on a leash through suburbia today, on a paved street. I wasn't paying attention, he saw a rabbit, and snapped my 194 pounds right off my feet. I can tell you that asphalt burns are worse than rug burns, and without the fun part:
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