Last night someone removed my mailbox! They didn't just wack it with a bat, they removed it and set in my neighbors driveway 2 doors away!
Hope they're not reading this blog!
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Ah...Fame
This past week they've been working on the railroad track crossing in front of my house...and in yesterday's newspaper, in a picture taken of the crew, they managed to photograph my...mailbox.
The next thing you know that mailbox will be wantin' a piece of the action!
The next thing you know that mailbox will be wantin' a piece of the action!
Saturday, June 18, 2005
The line of demarcation is the skull
It's interesting to me as I get older how much more I want to engage with other people than I had in the past. When I'm alone for too long, I stew in my own juices such that I don't like the person who's doin' the stewin.' There are reasons for this, but they seem to just be at arms length from my brain...
Still, I feel the need to observe, to feel, to not just do for the sake of doing, but to actually connect action to feeling.
It's frustrating, and I'm pissed off a lot more than I was, but it's oddly beautiful and good to feel this way...
Still, I feel the need to observe, to feel, to not just do for the sake of doing, but to actually connect action to feeling.
It's frustrating, and I'm pissed off a lot more than I was, but it's oddly beautiful and good to feel this way...
Thursday, May 26, 2005
This is not that important, but...
When you wake up in the morning, and you need a pot of coffee, and you go to rinse out the pot, which has a little bit of coffee from yesterday in it...
...and you pour that bit in the sink...
the smell of coffee, that crisp, sharp used smell....
well, that just tells me the day has started. Mmmmmm....
...and you pour that bit in the sink...
the smell of coffee, that crisp, sharp used smell....
well, that just tells me the day has started. Mmmmmm....
10 things Noahie and I like
Let's see...
1.) Skittles
2.) Knock-knock jokes
3.) Many sided dice
4.) Mama
5.) Marbles
6.) The "Jewels" game
7.) Zorak -- how ever broken
8.) Basketball
9.) Baby Mozart
10.) Nuggets -- with sauce
1.) Skittles
2.) Knock-knock jokes
3.) Many sided dice
4.) Mama
5.) Marbles
6.) The "Jewels" game
7.) Zorak -- how ever broken
8.) Basketball
9.) Baby Mozart
10.) Nuggets -- with sauce
Friday, May 06, 2005
Uh Oh part 2
It seems Kim is hosed that I put her "oh-so-flattering" (her choice of words) pic up there yesterday.
I'm in trouble now!
But should I be? What woman ever likes a picture taken of her? Can there be a flattering picture of anyone stickin out their tongue? What's a guy to do?
I promise Kim, I'll put up as flattering a picture of you as you would like...you may guest blog even!
I'm in trouble now!
But should I be? What woman ever likes a picture taken of her? Can there be a flattering picture of anyone stickin out their tongue? What's a guy to do?
I promise Kim, I'll put up as flattering a picture of you as you would like...you may guest blog even!
Iacocca! Iacocca!
Cammie brought Master Noahie over and we went to a park.
I wrapped up Noahie and I rolled down a hill with him, just for the fun of rolling, while mama got it on camera!
As we were rolling, Noahie kept saying Iacocca, Iacocca! for reasons that are unknown to us!
I mean, I haven't even explained L'affaire Dreyfus to him yet, much less the Chrysler Bailout of '79!
He's still ahead of us in knowledge...
I wrapped up Noahie and I rolled down a hill with him, just for the fun of rolling, while mama got it on camera!
As we were rolling, Noahie kept saying Iacocca, Iacocca! for reasons that are unknown to us!
I mean, I haven't even explained L'affaire Dreyfus to him yet, much less the Chrysler Bailout of '79!
He's still ahead of us in knowledge...
Thursday, May 05, 2005
My friend Kim and I couldn't be more different, but that girl is as tight as hospital corners!
Had fun with Kim today; just coffee (decaf for the preggers Kimster) and a small stroll through Kerrytown with Moto-Chan in tow.
I find it interesting that we get along so well, as we couldn't be more different in so many ways; Kim is certainly widely travelled, and I am not. Kim radiates charm, and a sense of fun, and is still quite the beauty, ( Cammie compares here to Gwen Stefani, which we all agree with and like) while I still seem to be channeling Orsen Welles in "Touch of Evil" in so many ways...
Still, I know when the connection is made when I find myself wanting to do two things:
1.) Helping her get what she wants from life. Not in a controlling or savior kind of way, more like a fighter wingman attacking the Evil Nazi Bombers of Life. Got That?
2.) Wanting to share stuff that's cool (like Space Ghost!) just to watch her reaction and be informed forthwith, even if she doesn't like it.
Life is made better by such energies. Mucho love to K,M, and Moto-Chan, of course...
I find it interesting that we get along so well, as we couldn't be more different in so many ways; Kim is certainly widely travelled, and I am not. Kim radiates charm, and a sense of fun, and is still quite the beauty, ( Cammie compares here to Gwen Stefani, which we all agree with and like) while I still seem to be channeling Orsen Welles in "Touch of Evil" in so many ways...
Still, I know when the connection is made when I find myself wanting to do two things:
1.) Helping her get what she wants from life. Not in a controlling or savior kind of way, more like a fighter wingman attacking the Evil Nazi Bombers of Life. Got That?
2.) Wanting to share stuff that's cool (like Space Ghost!) just to watch her reaction and be informed forthwith, even if she doesn't like it.
Life is made better by such energies. Mucho love to K,M, and Moto-Chan, of course...
Cookie=Monster?
Of all things, I actually have what I need to make peanut butter cookies in this house at one time:
Peanut Butter, Sugar, Vanilla, and an Egg.
The egg is odd man out normally; The House of Fun just doesn't have 'em around that much, probably because my omelette making stinks on ice, so why embarass/frustrate yourself?
So why haven't I made peanut butter cookies? Ah, I've got three built-in reasons for that one, but they're all lies.
1.) I haven't any parchment paper or Pam -- they would stick! (lame, I know. Besides Cammie could help here)
2.) Goddamn it, save those eggs for yet another attempt at that Good Omelette! Who the frick am I kidding?
3.) I'm depressed -- the idea of peanut butter cookies unmade is better than actually making them, because you would then have to eat them and then they would be gone, and you couldn't go back to reason number two.
So I'm writing to say that I don't like this state of uneaten cookiedom, but through my own cluelessness I've backed myself into it. Who figured this out? Not me; it was a couple of characters from my unfinished novel that needled me about these frickin' cookies this very evening. And were they just talking to me about cookies? Was I listening? Am I now? I think so; I can actually post this for the world to read. If, by "world", I mean Cammie and I. Cammie is a world unto herself, so how many more planets do I need to orbit the windmills of my mind? Why do I write sentences like that, other than I'm tired? (OK, good enough reason)
Tommorow, I will decide to make cookies...or not. And either way is cool.
Peanut Butter, Sugar, Vanilla, and an Egg.
The egg is odd man out normally; The House of Fun just doesn't have 'em around that much, probably because my omelette making stinks on ice, so why embarass/frustrate yourself?
So why haven't I made peanut butter cookies? Ah, I've got three built-in reasons for that one, but they're all lies.
1.) I haven't any parchment paper or Pam -- they would stick! (lame, I know. Besides Cammie could help here)
2.) Goddamn it, save those eggs for yet another attempt at that Good Omelette! Who the frick am I kidding?
3.) I'm depressed -- the idea of peanut butter cookies unmade is better than actually making them, because you would then have to eat them and then they would be gone, and you couldn't go back to reason number two.
So I'm writing to say that I don't like this state of uneaten cookiedom, but through my own cluelessness I've backed myself into it. Who figured this out? Not me; it was a couple of characters from my unfinished novel that needled me about these frickin' cookies this very evening. And were they just talking to me about cookies? Was I listening? Am I now? I think so; I can actually post this for the world to read. If, by "world", I mean Cammie and I. Cammie is a world unto herself, so how many more planets do I need to orbit the windmills of my mind? Why do I write sentences like that, other than I'm tired? (OK, good enough reason)
Tommorow, I will decide to make cookies...or not. And either way is cool.
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
1968
Having been inspired and stimulated by two excellent entries, here, and here, in two excellent blogs, I thought that I would spin off something from them and talk about 1968. Btw if you aren’t reading the musings of James Lileks and Ann Althouse, you’ve probably just rolled into blogland on a cabbage truck. Correct this error and enlighten yourself forthwith.
First, let me talk about my own personal 1968. This is pretty easy; I was 10 years old and living in Detroit, so it can really only be about the ’68 Tigers and Denny McLain. My 9 year old self knew that the Gods rolled crooked dice in the end of the 1967 season, and that 1968 was going to be a pro forma easy victory for the Tigers. No, really, I was sure that this was going to happen, surer than I was about anything before or since in my life.
And sure enough -- it happened. Denny McLain went 31 and 6 and seemed unbeatable. My older, more baseball knowledgeable self knows this wasn’t true, and he may not have even been the best pitcher in the AL at the time, (Luis Tiant?) but my younger self is unburdened with such knowledge. I am now grateful that I lacked such insights. It made 1968 a magical place. I was old enough to remember what was most beautiful to me, but not so old that I was wrapped up in worrying about the Tet Offensive. It’s true that there was a lot of physical confrontations of campuses that year, but growing up with the Detroit riots of the previous year, I may have just assumed that Armed Insurrection was something did in the summer like, well, baseball. This summer the campuses, last summer the inner city; who knows, maybe next summer would be Stalingrad in the suburbs. Not your typical coming-of-age story, I’ll grant, but…so it goes.
But my personal 1968 is not really what we are discussing; rather we’re using the number as a shorthand about the present. Although this post of Lileks is mostly about Bob Crumb, there is such a strong anti-60’s flavor that I feel it deserves some comments:
As much as I like the Whitman’s sampler of bon bon mots that Mr. Lileks provides, I just can’t accept the Grouchy Old Fart approach to ones past. Was he an Old Fart back then, or is he just a Neo Fart? If he was this cranky back then, my advice to him just for his health if nothing else, is to let that old wind blow away. And if this is a new animus, well, what are we doing at this late date choosing to pick on old stoners for? Dick Nixon was right when he said that you can’t get the toothpaste back into the tube, and James, you just can’t pass the same gas twice.
So some stoners remain caught in time; what of it? That chimera of a special time and place sure is hell isn’t limited to Joplin fans. Look how many WWII vets can’t get off Normandy! What’s the point of sarcasm when discussing why someone remains completely committed to a moment in the past?
God, I hate to say it, but isn’t it the most obvious thing that just to be the person we are today we HAD to be forged in a “1968,” a year, a place, another person that sets our course for a long time to come. Not all moments are equal, and even when we have forgotten those past enthusiasms (like Dr. Althouse does when she recalls her ‘70’s furnishings!) they shape what we react negatively to today, such that isn’t all we’re saying is what we don’t like about ourselves NOW?
It’s interesting to note that my 10 year old self didn’t think for a second that the 1969 Tigers would win, or that even that club in any form would win again. It was nice to be proven half-wrong when the over-the-hill Tigers won the American League East in 1972. In the end I am glad that I didn’t make a hero out of Denny McLain as the subsequent 30+ years would have revealed him to be a poor role model for Charles Keating. See here for the grisly details. But then again none of that later stuff affects how I see 1968.
First, let me talk about my own personal 1968. This is pretty easy; I was 10 years old and living in Detroit, so it can really only be about the ’68 Tigers and Denny McLain. My 9 year old self knew that the Gods rolled crooked dice in the end of the 1967 season, and that 1968 was going to be a pro forma easy victory for the Tigers. No, really, I was sure that this was going to happen, surer than I was about anything before or since in my life.
And sure enough -- it happened. Denny McLain went 31 and 6 and seemed unbeatable. My older, more baseball knowledgeable self knows this wasn’t true, and he may not have even been the best pitcher in the AL at the time, (Luis Tiant?) but my younger self is unburdened with such knowledge. I am now grateful that I lacked such insights. It made 1968 a magical place. I was old enough to remember what was most beautiful to me, but not so old that I was wrapped up in worrying about the Tet Offensive. It’s true that there was a lot of physical confrontations of campuses that year, but growing up with the Detroit riots of the previous year, I may have just assumed that Armed Insurrection was something did in the summer like, well, baseball. This summer the campuses, last summer the inner city; who knows, maybe next summer would be Stalingrad in the suburbs. Not your typical coming-of-age story, I’ll grant, but…so it goes.
But my personal 1968 is not really what we are discussing; rather we’re using the number as a shorthand about the present. Although this post of Lileks is mostly about Bob Crumb, there is such a strong anti-60’s flavor that I feel it deserves some comments:
Never liked Crumb -- his work always gave off that foreign 60s vibe that was so beloved by a certain demographic of the Stoner-American community, the Loser Whom Time Passed By. By the mid-70s there was nothing so pathetic as someone who held on to 1968 as the ne plus ultra of civilization, and felt content to ride out the subsequent decade in a haze of genial aimlessness. I used to wait on these guys every night -- they'd get off work at the U, order up a pitcher of 3.2 beer, and wander over to the jukebox to play Janis Fargin' Joplin tunes, A sides AND B sides, with a little Marley to show off their spiritual side. Urgh. One of them drew Mr. Natural on the wall of the men's room. They were distinct from the other Stoner demographic, the guys who would play old Stones tunes and play pool and smoke the strongest cigarettes allowed by law and give you an Elvis sneer if you came back to empty the ashtrays. They hated, on sight, the other college stoner clique, the Sensitive Types who listened to complex progressive rock and ordered tea with six packets of honey. (Dude, pack the bong. This cut has 7/8 time AND a Mellotron!) But somehow, if you were a stoner, you were supposed to appreciate Crumb. I never got it.
As much as I like the Whitman’s sampler of bon bon mots that Mr. Lileks provides, I just can’t accept the Grouchy Old Fart approach to ones past. Was he an Old Fart back then, or is he just a Neo Fart? If he was this cranky back then, my advice to him just for his health if nothing else, is to let that old wind blow away. And if this is a new animus, well, what are we doing at this late date choosing to pick on old stoners for? Dick Nixon was right when he said that you can’t get the toothpaste back into the tube, and James, you just can’t pass the same gas twice.
So some stoners remain caught in time; what of it? That chimera of a special time and place sure is hell isn’t limited to Joplin fans. Look how many WWII vets can’t get off Normandy! What’s the point of sarcasm when discussing why someone remains completely committed to a moment in the past?
God, I hate to say it, but isn’t it the most obvious thing that just to be the person we are today we HAD to be forged in a “1968,” a year, a place, another person that sets our course for a long time to come. Not all moments are equal, and even when we have forgotten those past enthusiasms (like Dr. Althouse does when she recalls her ‘70’s furnishings!) they shape what we react negatively to today, such that isn’t all we’re saying is what we don’t like about ourselves NOW?
It’s interesting to note that my 10 year old self didn’t think for a second that the 1969 Tigers would win, or that even that club in any form would win again. It was nice to be proven half-wrong when the over-the-hill Tigers won the American League East in 1972. In the end I am glad that I didn’t make a hero out of Denny McLain as the subsequent 30+ years would have revealed him to be a poor role model for Charles Keating. See here for the grisly details. But then again none of that later stuff affects how I see 1968.
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Is it wrong?
To love Gawker Stawker (the way it should be spelled, in proper NooYorkese!) the way I do?
To stab yourself in the hand while trying to get more cheese?
To actually want to see certain movies, months, nay years ahead? To demand their videos be sold in the lobby when you are leaving the theatre?
To help someone get all the letters up the coconut tree? Even the missing 'Y'? (oh, y, y, y, did that happen?)
To wait for the snow to go?
To enjoy the twinkly lights? To pretend that they are your fireplace which will always be behind you?
Just to enjoy toast?
Yeah...I thought not....
To stab yourself in the hand while trying to get more cheese?
To actually want to see certain movies, months, nay years ahead? To demand their videos be sold in the lobby when you are leaving the theatre?
To help someone get all the letters up the coconut tree? Even the missing 'Y'? (oh, y, y, y, did that happen?)
To wait for the snow to go?
To enjoy the twinkly lights? To pretend that they are your fireplace which will always be behind you?
Just to enjoy toast?
Yeah...I thought not....
Monday, December 20, 2004
Hands-On Blog Healing
My bud (he he he) over at Perfect Blue Buildings is quite sick with flu; Noahie is confused, and we at Fluffy Stuffin' are worried/concerned for her because we love and care for her a lot! A big lot! Like a whole U2's worth of caring! (Shouldn't there be a U2 cover band that calls itself SR-71? It only seems logical...)
So if the blogosphere has any energy in it to spare, send it to Michelle so that she can get off the couch and fight with Noahie about how many Skittles he can have.
Out, flu, out! Flee! Scram! Vamoose! The Mighty Fishwah commands it!
Please get better -- for Xmas!
So if the blogosphere has any energy in it to spare, send it to Michelle so that she can get off the couch and fight with Noahie about how many Skittles he can have.
Out, flu, out! Flee! Scram! Vamoose! The Mighty Fishwah commands it!
Please get better -- for Xmas!
Sunday, October 24, 2004
A Theme for Thee
I decided that I wanted to branch out a bit with the blog; beyond my audience of Miki and Noah! But what to write on? I wanted to keep the blog close to my heart and not really go crazy on a particular topic. So what I intend to do is to have some sub-themes that will recur throughout the blog. These themes at this moment will include:
Life is Beautiful, what's good in my life. It could be big or small, but will write about what makes me happiest.
Things Suck, what's not so good. As you can imagine.
and
What Tha?!?, Things that perplex me...
More as I develop things.
Ron
Life is Beautiful, what's good in my life. It could be big or small, but will write about what makes me happiest.
Things Suck, what's not so good. As you can imagine.
and
What Tha?!?, Things that perplex me...
More as I develop things.
Ron
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
Camie Vog Arrives!
At last the commenting post toastie appear...In all her Wahness...
Oh, that the too, too solid Yanks would melt...Game 7 tomorrow...ugh...What a world it is when RedSoxSadism is what we are reduced too...Oh, the symbolism of Curt Schilling's bloody ankle! A Red Sox Indeed!
Would Noahie save me some berries? He may have all the Easy Mac he can Mactabolize...
One of these days, I actually need to write something on this blog addressed to The World.
Ah, but will Mikwah learn the Pippi Longstocking Theme Song like Lorelai and Rory?
I will not be/have blinds at the end of tomorrow...Can my nude gypsy dancing be done? To the Mighty Led Zeppelin as it has so much lately?
Crazy Mike sits at the back of my mind like a thrumming didgeridoo... ideas appear and get typed...
more, Camie Vog, I need more...
Oh, that the too, too solid Yanks would melt...Game 7 tomorrow...ugh...What a world it is when RedSoxSadism is what we are reduced too...Oh, the symbolism of Curt Schilling's bloody ankle! A Red Sox Indeed!
Would Noahie save me some berries? He may have all the Easy Mac he can Mactabolize...
One of these days, I actually need to write something on this blog addressed to The World.
Ah, but will Mikwah learn the Pippi Longstocking Theme Song like Lorelai and Rory?
I will not be/have blinds at the end of tomorrow...Can my nude gypsy dancing be done? To the Mighty Led Zeppelin as it has so much lately?
Crazy Mike sits at the back of my mind like a thrumming didgeridoo... ideas appear and get typed...
more, Camie Vog, I need more...
Monday, October 18, 2004
Oh, Yeah?
Some Comment-writers-in-waiting claim that they will respond to this blog with their droll remarks, but I tend to think of them as more drool remarks instead...we are not amused...except by Grandmaster Noah, the hip-hoppiest Old Testament Prophet of them all! And all-around Skittles junkie...
Some potential commenteers (like "mousekeeters") forget that their cats are spies who work for me...
But enough defensive bloggage! On to...on to... the couch for more serious contemplation of the Eternal Verities...
Some potential commenteers (like "mousekeeters") forget that their cats are spies who work for me...
But enough defensive bloggage! On to...on to... the couch for more serious contemplation of the Eternal Verities...
Thursday, October 14, 2004
Uh Oh
Well, I got a bit in trouble today for letting Noah eat too many Skittles yesterday such that he didn't want to eat dinner, just Skittles and M&M's....(which for me that would be a good dinner, but for a two year old, not so much)
Poor Noahie got a talkin' to about his crass manipulation of Uncle Ron, so he was warned off the "juice" for today...
Still, he drug me into the kitchen, and asked me open the door where the Skittles were kept....and when I did so, he said "Sorry, Uncle Ron" and ran out into the next room... this is not a bad model of social interaction when you think about it...
So, should I give him the 5-pound bag of Skittles for Halloween?
Poor Noahie got a talkin' to about his crass manipulation of Uncle Ron, so he was warned off the "juice" for today...
Still, he drug me into the kitchen, and asked me open the door where the Skittles were kept....and when I did so, he said "Sorry, Uncle Ron" and ran out into the next room... this is not a bad model of social interaction when you think about it...
So, should I give him the 5-pound bag of Skittles for Halloween?
Saturday, October 09, 2004
Why the Title?
Before people ask...I had an old, ratty loveseat that was so bad I finally decided to just pitch it. It wound up next door to me, and then, from there thrown out next the house waiting to be removed...and waiting... the squirrels finally figured out there was damn fine nesting material in there so, as my friend Miki pointed out, The squirrels are eatin' your fluffy stuffin
hence...the new world view...
hence...the new world view...
Friday, October 08, 2004
First Day
Hi there, Ron here....Fluffy Stuffin' is my blog of many things, some serious, some funny...stop on by and comment as you will!
Oh, and a shout out to Master Noah for his coolness and love of bubbles...
Be Well
Ron
Oh, and a shout out to Master Noah for his coolness and love of bubbles...
Be Well
Ron
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