Bart Simpson’s Hair – Why I’m Talking to Myself

Posted in Mixed Nuts, Under the Sea on November 18th, 2010 by MadDog
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Now that I have all of these pictures loaded onto my WordPress page, I am wondering how to write something that makes some kind of sense. In cases such as this my usual ploy is to abandon any hope of writing anything which pleases me and put the job off until tomorrow. However, I have a deadline. It’s 8PM and I want to be ready to drink some kava an hour before I’d like to sleep. It worked the last two nights. I got more sleep than I have for a long time and I felt great in the morning. I’m going to write about kava soon. So, since I can’t put it off, I’ll write nonsense. It probably fits the subject matter better anyway.

As the title implies, the subject is twofold. Here is Bart Simpson’s Hair:

Okay, does that give you some idea of where we are going with this? Fasten your seat belts.

I’m going to the kitchen now to get some cookies . . . okay, I’m back. Hmmmmm . . . delicious. The other subject, which I made you think has something to do with Bart Simpson’s hair but it doesn’t, is Why I’m Talking to Myself.

I never used to do that – talk to myself – at least not much. I’d let slip, “Idiot!” or “You old fool.” or something similarly self- deprecating, but I had no serious conversations. Even now, my solo exchanges are usually not directed to me, but since there is nobody else around (I try not to do this when others might be observing.) one might be prone to suspect that my brain is doing a little recursive boogaloo. I don’t know if this is healthy or not, but it is making me feel better.

So, who do I talk to?

Not far from Bart’s hair I found this disgusting, encrusting sponge trying to strangle a branch of black coral:

See, I’m going to do that to you. I’ll go along as if I have something interesting to say and when I sense you nodding off, I’ll throw a bean bag at you. The image above is trying to connect up some wires in my brain between it and Sponge Bob Squarepants. Okay, time for another cookie. Hey, I need some milk.

Mostly I talk to two entities. I probably spend the most time conversing with Eunie. She was always a good listener. I ask her for advice. Then I think about what she would tell me if she were sitting next to me or we were having a walk through the woods. The surprising thing is that what I hear in my head, or rather what I make up from the million memories of how she was, seems very real to me. It can’t be so far off from what she would have said. Quite often it makes me laugh.

Tonight I had a ham sandwich. The ham had been in the freezer for I don’t know how many months. I got it out of the freezer a week or so ago. It didn’t look bad, but I can’t smell it, of course. I’m constantly concerned that I will poison myself. I quit thinking about suicide about a month ago, mainly because I couldn’t stand the thought of the colossal mess it would leave behind for my friends to clean up. So, since that prospect is off the table, I’ve gone back to a less hair-raising and reckless existence. I actually don’t want to die now. Something interesting might happen. I call that progress. I also had ten-day-old steamed broccoli which had nothing obvious growing on it. I don’t know why I feel compelled to tell you what I’m eating – cookies, ham sandwiches, broccoli. I’ve been doing it for some time now.

Here is some whip coral at Magic Passage:

No, I’m not going to explain why it’s called whip coral. I don’t feel pedantic tonight. In fact, I don’t feel much of anything. That’s funny. I haven’t had any kava yet. It has a strange calming effect which my pleasant Dr. Mackerel told me about. I told him no Prozac, so he said to try kava. I’m going to do this without major drugs. As I said, I’ll get to that later. It’ll be a hoot!

Talking to Eunie is fun. I close my eyes and see that surreal half-smile which said, “I’m watching you, you crazy guy.” Man, I loved that smile. I carry it on my shoulder.

Often, though – about a hundred times a day, I need to unload on or seek counsel with someone with more clout. Eunie is my gentle advisor. When I need the heavy artillery, I talk to God. I talk out loud, like I do with Eunie.

It’s much more difficult for me to imagine what God is saying back. Obviously, I don’t hear anything. I’m not that far gone. I also have to admit that I don’t know as much about God as I do Eunie. The truth is that you never know what God is up to. I do trust that it’s all going to work out in the end, but man, in the meantime you have to be ready to catch some fast curve balls. I was never any good at baseball. After teams were chosen, I was always the one guy left standing there staring at my toes sticking out of the end of my sneakers.

I do seem to be getting some answers lately. The big questions remain mysteries, but some of the little ones are falling into place. So, I’m calling these productive conversations. There are fewer swords hanging over my head. I’m not afraid to look in my mailbox any more. Part of that is because I can’t imagine what could happen that has not already happened. There’s a certain comfort in knowing that the only things left to lose are things that really don’t matter that much. It’s tremendously liberating. Money – EHHH! There will always be enough. One simply has to adjust one’s expectations. Property – MEH! I don’t have any (Or at least I soon will not – that house is GOING, one way or another!) All of the rest of the stuff that I have accumulated – PFFFT!  I can carry everything I need in a back pack and a small camera case. Free! Free at last!

What brought that on? Hey, my kitchen is full of ants. I’m too cheap to buy bug spray any more. That’s off the shopping list. Beside, they don’t eat much – only what I have dropped or slopped. There are a couple of dead ones floating in my milk. At least I hope they are dead. If they are not, they are in for quite a ride.

Does this look like a giant corkscrew to you?

I guess I mostly talk to myself because I am so used to having someone around to talk to and I just can’t stop because she’s not here now. I’ve noticed that I am much more talkative than I used to be when friends are around. I hope that is not a bad trend. I have seen that flick of the eyes to another which says, “When is he going to shut up?” I’m on the lookout for it.

This is the model which was used for The Blob  in the original movie starring Steve McQueen:

It’s about a metre wide. They had to scale it up and make it mobile for the movie. Inert blobs aren’t very scary and they get real hungry. This one is quite immobile.

I don’t anticipate finding any other conversation partners for my lonely quiet times when I’m feeling chatty. Who else would there be, Elvis? John Belushi? Jack Kerouac?

No, not them. If I talked to anyone else it would be absent friends, the living kind. There are so many who I would love to spend an evening with in quiet discourse.

Speaking of friends, I’m going to take advantage of you and sneak in a couple of very amusing images sent to me by Alison Raynor of Toogoolawah in Queensland. Here is what she wrote to me:

I’ve been on the road a fair bit in the last couple of days and this 6ft carpet snake (a common constricting python) crossed our path yesterday.  We stopped for a look and he stopped  to geek my camera… such a pretty snake, you should see the size of their mouths and fangs though……EEEEK!   This one would be able to swallow an animal or bird heaps bigger than its own body weight and size:

Okay, Ali. How close are you going to get to this thing?

Close enough for THIS!

Okay, I’m impressed.

Today, I spent a fair amount of time getting lawns mowed. No, I didn’t mow the lawns. It’s Gosel’s job to mow the lawns. However somebody has to haul his lawnmower around and get him to the grass which needs cutting. That’s what I did today. Exciting, eh? Here is Gosel mowing a lawn:

I sat in there my blazing hot brand-new Nissan Navarra twin-cab utility truck. I didn’t particularly want to buy a new car, but Eunie wanted one. Her old red truck was getting rusty and she didn’t like that. Anyway, I’m glad now that I have it. It’s like money in the bank, not that money in the bank is any guarantee of security. And, I probably have a car which will serve me for the rest of my life. Hey, my dog Sheba has a good chance of outlasting me. I’m not planting any more trees either. Like many other things which I am discovering, there is a certain comfort here.

I got bored reading Hollywood Crows  by Joseph Wambaugh, so I had a nice, long conversation with Eunie.

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Happy Birthday! Clyde Barrow and Steve McQueen

Posted in Mixed Nuts on March 24th, 2008 by MadDog
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A Creepy Criminal

Clyde Chesnut Barrow was born March 24, 1909, near Telico, Texas. Clyde’s father, Henry Barrow, moved his family to Dallas in 1922. Four years later, Clyde was arrested for the first time on a charge of auto theft. Undeterred, Barrow next committed a series of Dallas-area robberies over the next four years.

Soon after meeting Bonnie Parker in 1930, Barrow was jailed for burglary in Waco. He soon escaped using a handgun Bonnie had slipped past the guards. He was caught a week later in Ohio and sentenced to fourteen years hard labour in the Texas State pen. Barrow was paroled in February 1932, however, and over the next two years he became the infamous head of a gang of armed bank robbers that included Bonnie.

On April 13, 1933, the Barrow Gang narrowly escaped being captured in Joplin, Missouri. Police raided their hideout after a tip from suspicious neighbors. The latest two lawmen in what was by then a long string of murders, were killed in the shoot-out. A now-famous roll of film containing pictures of Bonnie and Clyde was found in the hideout.

Clyde’s brother, Buck, and Buck’s wife Blanche had become members of the gang. Buck was killed, and Blanche was captured in a later raid in Platte City, Missouri. Bonnie and Clyde escaped again. In 1934, they freed a former gang member from Eastern State Prison in Texas, along with another prisoner. It was a daring machine-gun raid in which one guard was killed and several were wounded.

After another robbery spree in Indiana, the Barrow Gang was tracked to a farm in Arcadia, Louisiana. Leading the search were Texas Ranger Francis A. (Frank) Hamer and FBI special agent L.A. Kindell. Hamer arranged a roadside ambush in Gibsland, Louisiana. Travelling alone, Bonnie and Clyde were killed in a flurry of gunfire. Their bodies were put on public display in Dallas before burial in their separate family plots.

Wanted Poster for Clyde Barrow

If you’ve read this far, maybe you’re wondering the same thing that I am. How do sub-human slugs such as these get to be seen as some kind of heroes?

Steve McQueen – Everybody’s Favorite Cool-Guy

McQueen’s screen persona — blue-eyed cool on the outside, rebellious turmoil on the inside — made him a box-office smash throughout the 1960s and early ’70s. He was in the early TV western Wanted: Dead or Alive (1958-61) and the cult horror film The Blob (1958). But it was his work in The Magnificent Seven (1960, with Charles Bronson) and the WWII epic The Great Escape (1963, with James Garner) which established himself as a lean, laconic action star. He received an Oscar nomination in 1966 for The Sand Pebbles, but he remains best known for The Great Escape and for the 1968 cops-and-car-chases flick Bullitt. He died at a clinic in Mexico in 1980, after undergoing surgery for cancer.

I still remember seeing Bullitt for the first time. It’s still a great cop flick. Here’s a beautiful photographic caricature of Steve McQueen by Sebastian Krüger.

Steve McQueen by Sebastian Krüger

Here’s an interesting Five Things You Didn’t Know About Steve McQueen.

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