No More Sense, Just A Picture

Surprise Family Photo today is a portrait of my Uncle Igor, Aunt Sallye, and Cousins Pristine, Rostar, and Yetty. The odd thing is that they are like this most of the time, not just for formal photos!

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Don't Mind Me, It's Just More Chaos

Things are a little crazy this morning. Now, first, let's get it straight, I AM a person who likes classical music and opera. I don't know much about it, technically or historically, but I've come to like it over the years. So that's not my problem. It wasn't my problem this morning, either, when I turned on the local public radio station that serves as my classical music station and heard some odd stuff. Not to put too fine a point on it, the singer sounded like Red Skelton in his goony-voiced Klem Kadiddlehopper character, only he was singing in French. Though I'd been up a couple of hours and ought to have had a better grip on reality, I decided that it was too early in the morning to sit there and just be tormented by wondering what this deranged shit was. I turned the radio off and came over here. Even talking to myself is better than that. I'll go crazy at a slower rate.

All those who want me to go crazy at a slower rate, raise your hands…

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Technical Rescue Being Sought

Cheryl in Korea, who writes "mental refuse" has been cut off from reading Blogspots such as this one or even her own because the Korean government has filtered them out somehow. All Blogspot sites from everywhere have apparently been made invisible inside Korea! The government appears to be retaliating for some gruesome or disrespectful materials on some Blogspot sites regarding the Korean man who was recently beheaded in Iraq. If anyone knows how a non-techie might be able to learn a little, work a little, and get around this "ban" of indeterminate length, let me know or contact Cheryl In Korea

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Don't Assume That Nothing Stinks

Don't assume that it doesn't still stink around here just because I wrote a longer and more typical blog last Thursday. That was the only idea ricocheting around in my head this week and now that bullet's spent.

Here's a Surprise Family Photo of my cousins Louis and Sassafras making faces. She's rather better at it than he is, don't you think? Maybe it's all that root beer she drinks. By and large they're harmless, so let's not worry about them.

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Read a 96-line poem, abstract and serious,
OLD MILLENNIUM DANCING SHOES
in JUDY GARLAND BLUES,
my red-blooded perky poetry blog for new & used poems

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THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: "I am a firm believer in the people. If given the truth, they can be depended upon to meet any national crises. The great point is to bring them the real facts." — Abraham Lincoln

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The Troll Child

Surprise Family Photo for Friday is a photo of the child of a famous Internet troll. It's a sad case of munificent mutation, but don't worry, those aren't her feet, they're just funny shoes. I think...

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Ze The Portuguese Grave Digger

I think I found the blog “grave digger” just by stumbling across it because one of his posts had just that minute been published and was on Blogger’s "recent" list. And, of course, it had an attention-getting name. It’s even more interesting when you learn that he’s a sort of, approximately, vaguely Goth (a thing I know little of), and that he’s not being cute--he's a real grave digger in his home town in Portugal.

Lately, he has put some photos of the graveyard where he works on his web site. It’s a more ornate and “exotic” graveyard than I’m used to seeing; the photos show a lovely place, full of clear blue sky above it in most photos and what seems to me a fiercely cheerful blue and white entrance gate. How can it look so, I wonder. But why not? I wondered at first how he could maintain it all, then guessed that he probably does not do it all. This is my guess, I repeat. I suspect the people of his Portuguese village spend the time that Americans generally spend less and less, tending the gravesites of their own family members. He said once how his mother is often at his father’s grave and generally resists his offers to take care of it for her. His mother is probably not the only old-fashioned lady in town. Anyway, I get that impression from all the short scenarios he’s presented.

I don’t know why Ze (Jose) writes in English; he says he doesn’t know, either. For the longest time I kept suspecting that he was somebody’s college project where they invent a character and write a blog in his name. I told him that a time or two, but I don’t recall that he addressed it. I sometimes still believe that’s the deal, but for the most part I’ve decided to “buy in”, to accept it. Whether Ze is a grave digger or some group of female graduate students having a barrel of fun, it’s always fun or thought provoking to read his posts. If it’s a deception, it is a rewarding one. At this point, it would be a little heartbreaking to find that there is no Ze!

I don’t mean to be disrespectful or impugn his sexual identity when I refer to the “female” graduate students. I think that Ze is a reasonably sensitive person and that writing in a language that’s foreign to him makes him sound even more that way. Whatever unsureness he has with the language makes him talk (write) a little softly and somewhat more formally, I think. He doesn’t want to overstate things or misstate things or to be inadvertently insulting. I can identify with that, though you’d never mistake his pleasantness for my bad-temperedness. Of course, it is naturally easier being bad-tempered in one’s native language! So, at any rate, I do not suggest that Ze is as sensitive as a girl or as an effeminate man, either, but merely as sensitive as a man who doesn’t take a lot of time to keep protesting his manhood.

Ze sometimes writes about dreams, it seems to me—moderate dream-states, at any rate. Though he seems in some cases to simply be having a dream in front of you. It is an odd sensation when he’s on a roll. Yet he is always quiet, self-effacing, and polite. And sometimes he gets a little dark and spooky—not because he’s that way, but because we are!

It’s difficult to argue much with his “acceptance” of Death, even if we are not as comfortable with it. Sometimes he writes a small bio of one of the people he’s buried in recent days. They are always kind and interesting, never acting as if he knew them any better than he actually did, but making gentle guesses and observations and describing whatever slight acquaintance he did have with them. He seems to acknowledge the Mystery rather more than the facts.

Well, don’t hold your breath, you won’t get that Here! But I’ll tell you where to find the grave digger.

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Read a poem called
GODDAMN THESE WOUNDED BIRDS
in JUDY GARLAND BLUES,
my cryogenic little poetry blog for new & used poems

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THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: "Beauty is all very well at first sight; but who ever looks at it when it has been in the house three days?” — George Bernard Shaw."

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Nobody Nekked Here, Bubba

Surprise Family Photo is the current replacement for Nude (not any more) Family Photo. This is due to the fact that the word "nude" attracts people possibly weirder than I am to this blog. I hesitate to imagine that that is even possible, but certainly it would not be bearable. I've already seen some of those hits in Site Meter and I don't think I care to see the rest of the variations. I have quite enough brain-rot, thank you. Maybe they will taper off gradually and eventually disappear. I should have known better.

Anyway, the above remark has little to do with today's post. Surprise Nature Photo shows an animal muttering to itself. You can't hear it because the audio is turned down a little low, but I heard it distinctly saying,

"No, I am not a vulf. Do I look like a vulf?"

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THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: "When you come to a fork in the road, take it." — Yogi Berra

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Still Erratic (Quack Quack!)

Okay, so I'm still erratic and still avoiding an actual blog. A typical blog at any rate. Maybe it was time to destroy the typical blog. At the least, it was time to create variance. Pursuant to this path of avoidance, here is a new Nude (not really) Family Photo, another bold character from the outlands of the Internet.

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Addendum: What do I care if I stick another one in here today? So here's a Mandarin Duck from Japan—a very beautiful bird—in Surprise Nature Photo

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Comic-Drama About A Possum

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Here's my ill-tempered invitation for you to read
SHOOTING A DEAD POSSUM,
a longer short story, somewhat comic, somewhat not, in
DOGGER GATSBY'S BLUES,
a short story blog for all the Lost And Found
of this real and fictional world.

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THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: "Everything you've learned in school as "obvious" becomes less and less obvious as you begin to study the universe. For example, there are no solids in the universe. There's not even a suggestion of a solid. There are no absolute continuums. There are no surfaces. There are no straight lines.

In science, 'fact' can only mean 'confirmed to such a degree that it would be perverse to withhold provisional assent.' I suppose that apples might start to rise tomorrow, but the possibility does not merit equal time in physics classrooms." — Stephen Jay Gould

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The Day of the Sentimental Poem

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Read a sentimental, previously-lacerated, long-held-back
127-line poem called
I KNOW SUCH BEAUTY STILL
in JUDY GARLAND BLUES,
My Despotic Little Poetry Blog for New & Used Poems

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THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: "Life does not cease to be funny, when people die, any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh." George Bernard Shaw)

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Faulty Reasoning

Oops! Surprise Dog Photo is back, over there in the right-hand sidebar, just under Sandidge Sculpture Studio. Will these things never go away? Of course they will. Eventually, they'll go up in smoke. Bite the dirt. Go belly-up. Tomorrow, next week, or next year. Everything passes--so says the Bible, and even Bob Dylan. Just do what you think you should do. At first, dealing with Surprise Dog Photo and Nude Family Photo, I couldn't decide whether to keep one or both or neither. But why not keep both? Each is confusing and slightly boring, so let's have more! Chaos appeals to me, though I prefer complete sentences. My reasoning may be faulty, but I'm not taking any test about it. You may be, but I'm not.

It still stinks around here and this was as long as I could hold my breath. I have a half-face respirator out there in the garage, but I'd have to buy new filter cartridges for it. Maybe it's time for that.

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The Naked And The Addicted

My cousin Jeremiah, who cannot bring himself to return to his blog and write even the tiniest little post, asserts that neither can I lately bring myself to leave mine alone. He concludes that since I swore off and declared I’d take a vacation, I have so far failed to be away from it very long. His claim is that I'm a junkie for it and that if I don't quit cold-turkey, I won't be able to stop at all. He says I’ve only succeeded so far in producing shorter posts disguised as photo captions. I don’t have much to say to that except that here’s a photo of me when I get all this good advice from Jeremiah. Call it today's version of Nude (not really) Family Photo.

If I can find one of him with his clothes off, I'll publish it straightaway as the next Nude (not really) Family Photo. It would be the first honestly-titled one, anyway. Unfortunately, all such photos I might have of him would be over 50 years old--you know the kind, the nekked baby posed on the bearskin rug. I believe there's one of me like that. Hmm, maybe I better not go down that road. Maybe it would embarrass him more if I just published his golf scores.

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Nude, Wet, And Pink

Some of my favorite toys when I am nude, wet, and pink are depicted in today's Nude (not really) Family Photo. What more could a person want? Except another person, wet and nude and any people shade you'd like to name, to share a devil duck or bug with. I like ducks and bugs. For that matter, I like ducks and bears. I knew a fellow once who had them on his bedroom furniture, but he painted it all black. I told him he shouldn't, but that's what he wanted. Thirty years later, I still recall those ducks and bears.

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Links—Past, Present, Future, Nevermore

I never bothered to explain what happened to the links list in SOUTHERN EXPOSURE. At first, I began rewriting it in a 2-column table so that it would be more visible than where I'd been hiding it in one of the drop-down lists. Then I decided I was just going to end up with the care and feeding of two different forms of the same list--one there and one here. So I withdrew the links list from the other web site. No one had remarked before, no one has remarked on it since. It probably made little difference.

The other day it occurred to me that I could just copy the one from here and let SE reference the copy; it would be quicker for the reader than the link to come all the way here. So that change exists on the files in my computer, but I was never able to transfer it to the remote directory out here in the clouds of Valhalla. Either my FTP or else my remote directory has turned up sick or non-functional. I think it's my web space provider, but I don't seem to be moving very fast about contacting them. Some days it seems like there's too many details of which to keep track.

I wonder if my computer would work better if I'd stop asking it to do Just One More Thing? I suspect it would.

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Winter Butterfly Sport

I found this photo (I call it Butterflies Go Free) inserted neatly in the middle of a used book I bought last year. It's today's Nude (not really) Family Photo. I wonder how it travelled so far and what hands it passed through. What the hell were they doing, do you think? I've never heard of any Winter Butterfly Sports before. Looks like it might have been fun.

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Debut of Nude (not really) Family Photo

I met the lady depicted today in Nude (not really) Family Photo in the woods one day, but I didn't hang around with her. I was afraid she was going to ask me to eat one of those black things in her hand. Otherwise, she was very nice.

This photo probably won't disappear, though I can't guarantee it. Why you'd want to find it again later is beyond me, however.

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Briefly

Did I say there's a new photo at Surprise Dog Photo? Well, there isn't. There is a new photo at the same spot, only now it's called Nude Family Photo. Why?

Why not?

I think the photo was called "Found Bunny". Again, within a few days, it'll disappear.

No, it won't, I lied. Later, you can find Found Rabbit here.

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Skunk Alert!

Sniff! Sniff! What’s that smell? Is that a SKUNK?! Jeez, something stinks in here. Smells a little like the air let out of an old bicycle tire. A little like the dead animals I used to remove from attics when I was doing pest control—the odor just before I got my head above the ceiling tiles, not the full charge blast of corruption after I was on eye-and-nose level with the critters. It might be like the fumes from dirty-laundry, but only if it’s all Seven Dwarves at once plus their cousin Smelly to boot. Oh, yes, Snow-white, let’s not forget the rank reek of socks that have been inside a pair of old Dwarf boots too long. I accidentally ran over some dog poop with the mower yesterday and that was a piquant odor! But it’s not that. None of the above. Ugh, I know what it is! It’s the burnt-rubber reek of Blogger Burnout! Clearly, my brain will have to be taken to the cleaners. And this place will have to be aired out. You can stay and try to disinfect the place if you like, but I’m gone. I’m not coming back until the stink is gone. Should take several days, at least.

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This message, anyway, dammit, to Zandria and to Lu.

Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday, Dear Women Too Young For Me!
Happy Birthday to you!

(Be glad you’re too far away to hear it. I’m not a singer.)

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And happy damn 100th post to me.

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A Poem About Running On Empty

I WANT TO SPEND

I want to spend all my money
On some enormous
and thoughtless event,
Go up like a screaming rocket,
Some massive giga-candled thing
That spits sparks and colors
Left and right
While aimed at the moon
And then like me expires.

rcs.

2nd draft: 06/08/04
©2004 Ronald C. Southern

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A New Southern Exposure

Here's a small celebratory daffodil to acknowledge issue #011, new today, of

SOUTHERN EXPOSURE

In short, I'm looking for excuses to have a short blog today. This is a pretty good one--excuse, I mean. Maybe the web page is a pretty good one, too. I can hope.

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The Evil Clown And The Two Chickies

Most of you probably missed The Evil Clown, so I've got to start remembering to mention these things.

Now there's these Two Sixties Chicks pictured at Surprise Dog Photo They both pretended they thought hippies were really cute while I snapped their picture with their camera, then later acted like they were surprised that I hadn't stolen the camera as they nervously jumped into their Volkswagen Bug, then sped away laughing like hyenas.

Only how did I end up with the photo? See the picture and make your own guess.

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Sandidge Sculpture Studio

[Update to below as of Jan. 1, 2008: Sandidge Sculpture Studio site was later relocated and can now be found HERE.]

OPENING AT A TERMINAL NEAR YOU

SANDIDGE SCULPTURE STUDIO!

Pope Leo

Have I said it enough times yet? The "Sandidge Sculpture Studio" is a web site that I designed for a friend of 30 years' standing, Bill Sandidge in San Antonio. I've been developing the site for over a month—I guess I've lost track of the weeks. Though I joke about it having "loose boards and falling bricks", there are no blind alleys or inoperative links, hardly anything that leads nowhere. Still, though it is finished, it isn't fully polished. There are some pages lacking full information or labeling. This will be corrected as time passes. Small changes will occur before your very eyes. Well, you may only look once, so I guess I exaggerate.

We've done it all by Bill passing the images and information about them to me via email and he's been viewing the changing results over the Internet and giving me feedback. I've been making the tables—the boxes—and fitting the photos in and writing out the aggravating code for the links and for displaying photos correctly.

Bill's site displays both past and present art works, most in concrete. There's garden sculpture of several sorts, including
- contemporary
- oriental
- animal depictions (camel, Afghan hound, pig, turtle)
- copies of Pre-Columbian works

There's a number of portraits (busts) of people whose lives and/or faces he has admired, including

- Pope Leo The Great
- Henry B. Gonzalez (Texas politician and U.S. congressman)
- Jacob Brodbeck (Texas aviation pioneer)
- Waldine Tauch (well-known Texas sculptor)
- R.P. Sandidge (Bill's father)
- Laslo Ujhazi (Hungarian freedom fighter and Texas historical figure)

The Ujhazi bust noted above was his first major piece to be cast in bronze and is located at the University of the Incarnate Word in San Antonio.

Oh, did I mention the figure studies? I mean, the nudes. The Naked Ladies. Not too many. There's always "The Sunbather" in concrete—some of you boys might be able to use a more durable form of girlfriend than you've had lately. But, watch out, she's a little abrasive.

I'd be happy for all of you with an interest to take a look at the site. It's not a bad result, I'd say, for a couple of fellows who haven't even managed to be in the same place at the same time for the past 8 or 10 years. Though they're only photos, I've had a chance to see far more of Bill's work at one time than before and it has given me the opportunity to realize that it's quite impressive. I remember when he started teaching himself and I thought, "He can't just learn that." I am glad to be proven wrong on that!

It's been a learning experience for me doing this web site, and there's a thing or two even now I wish I knew how to do. But my ambition may just have to wait until my brain can catch up.

We will be satisfied with this if we can just make as good a presentation of it as possible, and then go back to what we were doing. On the other hand, Mr. Sandidge would love to grow rich. No large checks will be turned away, returned, cancelled, torn in two, spat on, subjected to Mephistophelean rituals involving chicken blood and crushed eye of newt, or otherwise rejected.

If some of you have about as much money as I do, you still have eyes and may look for free at Bill's varied art works and the results of my tenacious HTML code. Practiced web designers would perhaps find my work Quick And Dirty and not CSS enough in places, but where were they when I needed 'em? If there's no fellow nutcase to phone in the middle of the night, you have to do it your own way—so screw 'em!

I like it and I'm proud of it.

Compliments, critiques, and helpful suggestions from readers will all be welcome and listened to. As a previewer, Zandria has already kindly pointed out some places in the "About The Artist" page to me where places and persons are presumed to be known to the reader, when in fact they are probably not. Those are the kind of rough edges someone else might easily see whereas I have been too busy with too many factors for too long. It's the old "can't see the forest for the trees" sort of thing. And of course sometimes I can't see the trees for the forest, either!

Going Clear?

MENTAL CLARITY

It's been so long since I felt any mental clarity,
I can hardly imagine what it's like…
But that is what you'd expect, isn't it,
If things weren't clear?

Or is it?

2nd draft: 06/03/04
©2003 Ronald C. Southern

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Thought For The Day: "It's sweet to be remembered, but it's often cheaper to be forgotten." — Kin Hubbard

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Web Site, Plus Dog

My Other Web Site

I've been busy lately writing several things, one of which I will talk about another day. I've been writing my usual overly long pieces for this blog, of course, but lately working at the same time on a new issue of "Southern Exposure-Diatribes and Dreams, Alarms and Beauty", my other, far slower, web site. When it first started, I had to stifle myself. A couple of them came out every couple of weeks. I later stretched it to a month. However, it's been nearly two months since I updated Southern Exposure fully. So, Issue #011 is nearly ready, and I figure that any day I can get it out before June 12 will be gravy. I've changed things some, for I can't resist the temptation to tweak everything a little. Some features are gone, but not banned. Maybe they'll come back. A couple of new twists will be added-not that you've never seen twists before, but maybe you'll like mine, too! Go and take a look when the time comes, which obviously will be within the week.

The Surprise Dog Photo

One new thing on this site has been there a few days without fanfare. Hopefully, I'll start remembering to tell you when it changes, but I'm irresponsible, you know. There's a link under "Suspicious Links" called "Surprise Dog Photo" because it started out as a dog photo called "typical dog". I have now begun to change it, not daily, but when I think of it. Every time the old photo is replaced, it will be gone, it won't be back. It will be called "Surprise Dog Photo" every time-this is because I'm lazy. Whether they entertain you or not, these humorous and/or shocking pictures will add a little Click to your dreary day.

More to the point, that click might even register on my site meter, telling me the real amount of time you spent here. As far as I can tell, you see-and some of you may know more about it-unless visitors click on a second page, all visits are registered as 0 seconds duration. And, though I know I am not popular, it takes longer than that just to holler, "Oh, crap, cover the children's eyes!" and get off my site. I swear, I think sometimes that people are Allergic to clicking. Makes me wonder how they ever got as far as they did to get to TRS.

I insist though that I just don't believe all those damnable zeroes. This seems to be a weird and tricky behavior by Site Meter, doesn't it? But it does work this way. Maybe only the free version works this way? I never asked.

Anyway, get the notion out of your head that I'm trying to entertain you with the Surprise Dog-just using some Pavlovian training on you for my benefit.

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I didn't mean to stay up extra late to write this, but I did. Now the blinking Internet is nothing but "Cannot find server…" I hope it finds one and chokes on it!!!

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Oven Door Repair

It shouldn’t take me so long to make these famous Southern repairs and it shouldn’t take me as long as it takes to tell about them. God knows which is worse. I’m just a time-murdering wretch, no matter what I attempt, that’s what I’ve concluded. If time can be wasted, I’m your man. If you want your time wasted now, stick around.

The Oven Door Handle

Monday the oven door handle fell off. Halfway off. The nut and other hardware that held the right side of the handle onto the door were still there, which seemed a sort of minor miracle. The nut, smaller than a dime, though fatter, should by all rights have rolled or skittered into the furthest and most inaccessible recess of the kitchen. But it didn’t. Will miracles never cease?

Well, yeah, that’s right about where they did cease. A while back when I was first aware of the nut being loose and couldn’t tighten it, I’d been vaguely suspicious that, since there was no bolt head visible on the inside of the oven door, the oven door must have to come apart. That turned out to be correct. I sat on the floor in front of the oven and pulled the door down to study the side that faces into the oven. I didn’t much see the Big Picture, but I knew these nearby screws had to come out, so, shucks, folks, I took ‘em out.

When the last screw came out, the spring-loaded top half of the door sprang away from me toward the oven and made a mighty Wham! The bottom half of the door, being heavy and now held up by nothing at all, fell forward with an enormous weight onto the toes of my left foot. I didn’t feel much, though, since I had on my steel-toe work shoes. The double-glass oven window came loose from both sides and made a pretty terrible noise by itself as it bounced, then clattered back down onto the bottom half from which it had just separated. Screws spun in various directions, expletives were flying.


Will I Ever Make A Repair Without
Doing Something Dead Stupid?

Then I just stared at everything, as amazed as if a skunk with a top hat had come out of the oven and started dancing and singing “S'wanee, how I love ya, how I love ya!”

Aagh!

Well, Praise Jesus, I had the Big Picture at last—it was sitting in my lap. You were supposed to remove the oven door from its hinges and do all this deconstruction of the door with it lying flat on the floor! Had there been a few lighter parts and a little more tension, I guess I might have cut my head off.

There were other tricks and surprises and delays remaining, of course. After I put it together once, I saw there was a part left over. Now where the Hell does this go?! I found another one just like it and then I knew where to put the loose one. With the door together again, I tried to ease it all back onto its hinges, but that would not quite work. It seems the bottom halves of the door had to go together a certain way before the top halves would fit together. By now, I’d been crawling around on the floor about as long as a fat man could stand. My knees were on fire.

My Kingdom For A Table!

Very red in the face again, I brought workhorses and a worktable top from the garage so that I could get the door off the floor and see all around its edges at once. I got the bottom straight. I got the sides straight. I got the top straight. I lined up the glass, I got the screws lined up and tightened them. This had damn well better work, I thought! After half a dozen tries, I wiggled it onto those hinges and it worked as good as it previously did, which was not very well because it’s old.

Praise be! Another nit-witted half-assed repair of a wretched creaky household item so antique that it should go not only to the junkyard, but to hell directly thereafter, for all the torture it’s inflicted on me and others before me over the past 30 years. But I suppose that, as there is reputedly no heaven for dogs, there may be no hell for cruel appliances. Too bad, in both cases, I say!

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You are hereby directed by a nameless but very forceful branch of the U.S. Government to read a poem called YOUR OBSESSION in JUDY GARLAND BLUES, my arthritic old Poetry Blog for new & used poems. It’ll be good for you.

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THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: “Revolution is not something fixed in ideology, nor is it something fashioned to a particular decade. It is a perpetual process embedded in the human spirit.” — Abbie Hoffman

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Foosh!

Foosh, get outta here! Foosh, I say! That's what I say to cats when I want to get rid of them. It only seems to work when accompanied by a lot of hand signals, though. Anyway, I'm tired and beat and don't expect to write any blog today. Or tomorrow, whatever it is when you haven't been to bed. This is one of those notes ACTUALLY written in the Blogger editor, so I hope to be brief. I've been up some hours working on some other things. I'll talk about them another time, though. You, sir or madam, as the case may be, are on your own for today. Some of you need to go write your own blog--you know who you are! Write a blog about what you do when your favorite bloggers crack up and can't fulfill their daily destiny. Write a blog about how hard it is to write a blog--I don't care, just write something!

Hell, look at this drivel. See how easy it is?

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