5 Things I hate About Facebook

That would be the next 5 Facebook challenges that anyone tags me with.
My sister took one Facebook challenge and made it a blog entry, so it is sort of like a “meme”, which is another thing I hate times 5.

However this one is about books and we Bs are a book-lovin’ family so SusanB and JohnnyB can not resist. However, Susan nonconformed and took it outside Facebook. Me, I defied the instructions to do 15 books in 15 minutes and not think too hard. The Bs are rebel book lovin’ people who question authority. We get that way from reading books and learning stuff. That’s why ignorant people burn books, because they fear that knowledge will change their little world. (Read more about questioning authority and burning books in “Fahrenheit 451” by Ray Bradbury, available in your public library.)

So here’s my list (I resisted the urge to provide a link for each book – it takes too long. Even longer than it would take to read this entry, which is way too long)

1. Little Bear and the Beautiful Kite – Painfully shy Little Bear was the first literary character I identified with. He overcame his shyness and became a hero (I won’t spoil the plot by saying how) and I knew that one day I would do that and win the affection of some girl (though at the time I had no idea why I wanted to).

2. The Cat in the Hat –I spent a lot of time playing by myself and making up imaginary characters, so I liked the Cat. That beat out the Cowboy Andy series of books I enjoyed. I had a bromance going for Cowboy Andy, but I was able to quit him early on.

3. New Yorker Cartoon Collections – You can read here about how the New Yorker cartons taught me about history, American culture and sex. Yes, I read these not long after I was reading Cat in the Hat. I was precocious.

4. Catcher in the Rye – Read here about how J.D. Salinger taught me profanity and giving an “in your face” to adulthood and my grandmother.

5. Fanny Hill – This early porn book was found in someone’s trash when I was 13 or 14. I learned more from this book than from Catcher in the Rye. Talk about "coming of age"

6. Hiroshima – okay, nothing funny here. Another good book about the horrors of WWII is Night by Elie Wiesel. Makes you wonder why we would drop The Bomb on Japan but not Germany. Because Hiroshima is far removed from our allies but Berlin isn't or because the Japanese are more "different from us”? I'm just asking.

7. And Then There Were None – Got me interested in mystery books. I read all the Agatha Christies because I had a crush on Miss Marple.

8. The Big Sleep – I then read all the Raymond Chandlers and learned that American pulp fiction was better than British drawing room whodunits (that is “who-dun-it”, not “whod-unit”, which is how I read it as a teen) and the dames that Marlowe meets are sexier than Miss Marple.

9. The Martian Chronicles – All of Bradbury is beautifully written. I read every one.

10. Breakfast of Champions – Also read all of Kurt Vonnegut, who combined the silliness of Suess with the fantasy of Bradbury and the adolescent anti-social attitude of Salinger.

11. Canterbury Tales – a book I enjoyed as opposed to the books from high school lit that “stayed with me” in a bad way (e.g. The Red and the Black – Worst. Book. Ever.) Canterbury Tales is bawdy and features farting.

12. Without Feathers – Woody Allen taught me about writing humor and more about philosophy than Nietzsche’s The Stranger or any other existential authors I enjoyed.

13. The Source – The only James Mitchner book I really, really enjoyed. I imagine that when James Mitchner was a boy and his mom asked how he got his clothes so dirty, he would start out, “Well, Mother, in the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth. The Earth will be a recurring character in this narrative. So, then …”

14. The Bone Collector – by Jeffrey Deever - Or I could list Rules of Prey by John Sanford which got me interested in becoming either a twisted homocidal killer or a brilliant but flawed detective. I guess I'd go with the detective - they have more normal sex than the killers.

15. The Torah and 15 books of The Bible – More sex than even Fanny Hill and murder right in the first chapter. In fact, they have elements of every other book on my list.

The book I never read that stayed with me is the Aeneid, Virgil’s epic poem which we had to read and translate in my 4th year of high school Latin. I actual did read it, just not when I was supposed to. I would work on translating each day’s portion during lunch, right before Latin class. I would go to the library where I could find my Latin classmate, Lori Fuglaar, whom I had a crush on and who was smarter than I – I have always been attracted to smart women. She was a remarkably cute girl of Nordic descent who was also very religious. I know this because every time I called to ask her out, she had something to do at church that conflicted with the proposed date.

But at lunch I was able to enlist her help in doing my homework. I know she felt uncomfortable helping me get away with not doing the assignment. So I was able to corrupt her morals … just not in the way I wanted to. If only I could have climbed a tree and saved her kite, I might have won her affection. Oops! Now I spoiled the Little Bear story.
Goddam!

Foul Ball Fever ... Catch It!

From Chris Mauger comes a great essay on the life-long aspiration all (real American) men have to catch a foul ball at a baseball game.
(I discovered Chris’ blog after he left a very nice comment on my previous post. He is an elementary school principal so he can understand the maturity level of my humor and the aptitude level of my writing. He is very funny and you should read his blog).

Reading about his foul ball dreams, immediately sent me back to Dodger Stadium – I’m sitting in the stands with my mom and I have my mitt on, ready to catch any ball that comes near me. Nevermind that I am in General Admission, high above the field (just above the blinking red light that warns away airplanes). A home run travels only 400 feet or so; how is a foul ball going to reach me in General Admission, where we have to listen to Vin Scully on my transistor radio to know what we are “seeing” below? None of that matters; the fantasy of catching a ball from the game and taking it home to treasure is the lure that attracted every male to that ballpark.

Oh, we sometimes sat in the bleachers, which were also cheap seats at Dodger Stadium, so I might have caught a home run. But these were the early 60s Dodgers. Runs were manufactured by Maury Wills stealing 1st then 2nd, followed by a sacrifice bunt to move him to third and a sacrifice fly to get him home. Home runs were things other teams got because they – I’m looking at you, Yankees – were in league with the Devil. (That would specifically be the American League). So I sat in foul territory to increase my chances.

Men love action, thrills and violence and yet baseball was still our national pastime when I was a kid. Basketball offers fast-paced action – hockey even more so. Football offers physical contact, maiming and death – hockey even more so. Of course hockey is hard to follow and surely you couldn’t do that on what passed as television in the 60s. Baseball you can turn on at any point and get caught right up to the moment:

"Willie Davis at bat now. Gaylord Perry gets the ball and looks in to the catcher. Davis got the base hit in the first inning and scored on Gilliam’s double, providing the only run in the game. Perry shakes off a couple signs. Koufax has struck out 4 in the first three innings. Perry winds and throws. Of course, Gilliam made one heck of a catch on a hard line drive by Aaron in the second. The ball is approaching the plate now. The Dodgers have three hits, one run no errors. Davis looks like he might swing at this one. The Braves have 4 hits, no runs and one error which … Davis grounds back to the mound .. .put Davis in scoring position for that run … Davis is out at first.”

So baseball is easy to keep up with, which is why your girlfriend goes with you: you can explain all the rules between actual player motions on the field. But it is the foul ball that brings in the guys. You never hear this at an NFL game: “Fans are welcome to keep any errant passes thrown into the stands…” Hockey does let your next-of-kin keep any errant pucks you catch with your face, but you aren’t going to come back for more.

The promise of a caught foul ball indoctrinates kids into baseball worship. Sitting there with your glove on makes you part of the game. So I sat there as a kid, waiting. And waiting. Years later, in Cincinnati, I sat in Riverfront stadium (too embarrassed to wear my glove) waiting. One day I took a friend to the game. About the 5th inning I got myself some ice cream: a sundae served in a miniature, plastic replica of a batting helmet. I looked down to scoop up a mouthful. When I looked up, a foul ball was coming directly toward me. Things began to happen in slow motion – okay, everything was already in slow motion, this was baseball – I saw my friend’s arms reach out and I saw his hands catch the baseball. God had sent ME that baseball … but he was really punking me by making me get that ice cream first. The point is I’ll never forget the roller coaster ride of emotions from seeing the ball finally come and then losing it. I’ll never get the chocolate sauce out of my shorts either.

I don’t know if kids today build the same dreams. There are so few day games, and the night games are so late, it’s hard to bring kids. Without as many young boys learning to reach beyond hope for that ever-elusive foul ball, the popularity of baseball has declined. They try to attract us with hot dogs or t-shirts fired out of a canon, but, come on! That doesn’t make you one of the players like catching a real ball. And the “kiss cam?” Ew, gross! (if you’re a young boy there with your mom or dad, I mean).

Thinking about that, I just had a recovered memory. About 3 years ago, I did get a ball in the stands. There was a foul that bounced around the seats and came to rest in front of the guy next to me. Being that he was a five-year-old, my arms were longer than his and I reached down and snatched the ball right from under his little, 5-year-old feet. Oh my God, that is horrible! No wonder I blanked that out. But, come to think of it, had he got the ball, his dream would have been fulfilled and he could have put aside baseball for one of the other sports. My quick action established one more lifelong fan of America’s pastime.

You Gotta Have Friends

My wife was out of town last weekend. Our daughter called from college and said she was coming home to visit me . She told her mother, "When Dad's away, you have friends to hang out with. Dad would just be home all alone."

That's right, I have no friends and my daughter pities me. Well, I have a few friends, but mainly just because my wife knows them and makes them talk to me. Seriously, I'm just not good at keeping in touch. If we don't get together often, it's not them, it's me.

My sister had a favorite poem as a kid

"There was an old woman, lived under a hill
and if she's not gone, she lives there still"

My friends are where they were last time I saw them and still look the same, right? Yeah, I know, I need to get out more.

I admit it, I suck at real life social networks. So, how can I hope to succeed in a virtual social network? I have Facebook friends, but I rarely show my face. I'm also a virtual member of Humorbloggers.com and I feel that I have let them down.

Humorbloggers is full of truly funny bloggers who enjoy and support each other's work. The site has forums where members share very helpful information about Stumble and other blogger tools and there are chat rooms where they all hang out. I think. I have never been in the chat room. I don't chat, just like I don't im or tweet or text. If I'm not rising higher in the Humorbloggers rankings, it's not them, it's me. (Though, really, should friends be ranking each other?)

You can go over there and check some of them out - I assume they are still there where I saw them last. You can also give me a nice review and some stars. If you do, I'll be your best friend.

You Gotta Have Friends - For Reals

Blogs I linked to last year (the links are over there --->, not in this post):

Unfinished Rambler - a man of many identities who is one of several funny bloggers on Humorblogs.com. Rambler somehow keeps up with a hundred blogs - many of whom I also enjoy, but have trouble keeping up.

PurpAnd - I am somehow related to Andy through a mere two degrees of separation. He includes the details of that relationship in his year-end review. It has been interesting to read about his personal journey in his blog through this year. Plus you get cat pictures.

The Stanleys - I started reading Cali's blog because she linked to mine. Cali writes about various things in her life - even controversy about Prop 8 in Cali-fornia. If you read her blog you will find that she and Geoff (or maybe Ray?) have a fabulous relationship that is very sweet - to the point of nausea (just kidding).

Everything You Know About English is Wrong - Bill is another former writer from the Gary Burbank radio show . He writes a much more intelligent blog than this which keeps his wits sharp and his books publicized. I recommend the books.

Where the Hell Are My Penguins - Scarletvirago (whoever she is) I think, found my blog through "Everything You KNow ...." leads an amusing life with a husband and a daughter somewhere in the DC area (for now). She admits to being a blogger stalker so I guess it's good that she's moving farther away.

Hail! Good Fellow, Well Met - Schottzie03, when he used to be Duke Sinatra, was the sidekick(?) foil(?) voice of youth(?) on the Gary Burbank show for the last couple of years. He has great wit and did some hilarious interviews, wrote comedy bits and played some funny characters on the show.

Mypalmike - Sadly, I thing I preferred his old caption contest to the new one, but he appears to still be a funny guy whom you can find commenting on Radosh or other places here and there.

Then there are the "fail" type blogs of quotation marks, language, cakes etc. that I don't know the people behind them.

I still am linked to my sister at "Daze of Wine" and "I'm Just Saying" and Jenny Smith at the "Medieval Best Seller" and Jen Rodis at "Levedy", who is perhaps being held hostage by two small people. And there's Daniel Radosh who has many interesting entries in addition to his anti-caption contest. And Dooce who manages to make a well-written humor blog seem easy.

What did I miss?

Today I'm watching a parade and a bunch of football games, eating leftovers from New Years Eve snacks and compartmentalizing my life so I don't think about work tomorrow.

Referrals

Awesomeness from Scarletvirago. Hilarity from Dave Barry.

Dining Out

I enjoy the Comics Curmudgeon but he tends to focus on comics which are consistently worthy of mocking and misses the flawed exceptions to generally funny comics. In today's "Dinette Set", the joke is confounding and the artwork is disturbing. Has Dale interlocked elbows with a strange man who is peeved by that action or has Dale merely dislocated his own elbow? Is Burl hugging the strange man or merely putting his arm down the man's pants? I am grateful to Julie Larson for having Burl and Dale state each other's name in the conversation. I am am sure the charcters are often as uncertain of who is who in this strip as I am. I do like the strip, especially the signs and memos in the backgrounds of the frames. But I don't get the joke at all today. I guess I am a ding-a-ling! Huh, reader? Can someone please explain it to me?

Not Right Notion?

I received this email yesterday:

Dear Fellow Blogger,
It is my distinct pleasure, as the president of Americans for Limited Government, to invite you today to become a key member of the exciting new conservative “bloggers central,” NetRightNation.com.
At ALG, we recognize the critical role you as a blogger play in gathering, assimilating, and disseminating news and commentary. And I, personally, am deeply grateful to you for taking the lead in fighting some of the most important battles our country has faced over the past decade, and more.

"Me?" I asked aloud as I turned around to see if they were addressing someone behind me, "invited to 'conservative bloggers central'?
Have they read my blog? Have they read this conservative view? Well, come to think of it, that is about limiting government - limiting their intrusion into someone's personal life. And I am all about limiting government by prohibiting participation by anyone named Bush, Cheney, Rove, Alberto Gonzales, Wolfowitz, Rumsfeld......
So I guess my "fellow bloggers" at NetRightNation are hitting their target market with the email.

Born To Be Wilde

Read this then scroll on down to the book giveaway entry and enter the contest.

My daughter, the psych major at Ohio State, is getting into the habit of emailing me her class papers to edit. I was in college before computers; I typed papers on an actual typewriter and did not have the luxury of sending them through the intertubes to my parents for editing. And, believe me, the lack of Spellcheck® and proofreading was starkly evident. If you are a regular reader of this blogmess you are familiar with my lack of editing prowess.
So it is incongruous for my daughter to ask me to edit her stuff, but even weirder that yesterday my roommate from college, who still lives in LA, emailed me two college essays to proof for his son. I guess because I have occasionally been paid for writing they think I can influence their success by adding a comma and changing a sentence structure here or there.
The subject of writing influence was brought to my attention by my friend and (much more talented and successful) fellow writer, Bill Brohaugh over at Everything You Know About English Takes Up Too Much Space to Write Out the Entire Name of Your Blog.
He used an amusing “on-line gadget” to determine that some of my writing is mildly similar to L. Frank Baum or Edgar Rice Burroughs (whom I assume was an assassin or mass murderer since they always use his middle name). My parody of “Take me Home Country Roads was oddly found to be wildly channeling Oscar Wilde. I thought it more similar to John Denver, but who am I to question the internet.
I have to say that I like Bill’s gadget better than the one my sister found some years ago that said I write like a girl. Well, Oscar Wilde was similarly inclined, wasn’t he. Nevertheless, my masculinity is not threatened; I mean, it's not as though I've carried that memory with me for 5 years and still recall the mocking comments that followed. What worries me is that I might edit a paper for my daughter or my friend’s son, the colleges will run an analysis and accuse the poor kids of plagiarizing a convicted sexual offender or a mass murderer. That would be embarrassing.

I Never Meta, Man

1. The first rule of Fight Club is: "Don't talk about Fight Club." That should be the first rule of blogging. Blog entries should not be about blogging.

2. According to Harvey Logan in "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" (one of the movies I guide my life by) there are no rules in a knife fight. Likewise, I guess there should be no rules in blogging; so rule number one is nullified.

3. Nevertheless, blog entries about blogging bother me.

4. As do blog entries that are lists of random thoughts or lists of things to do before dieing or any of those "meme" things that people assign you to write about.

5. But that's just me and I should get over it.

6. Still, as for the random thoughts, isn't that what "twitter" is for?

7. I can't say because I don't really get twitter. That's one of the signs that I really am getting old. I kept up with computers and email and blogging and im (though I really don't im) but the new stuff is passing me by. I don't twitter or podcast or watch tv shows on a telephone or tiny iPod screen.

8. I do burn my feed but I don't really know what that means and it makes me think that, somewhere, cattle are angry at me about this.

9. And "meta". I need to let you know that I don't fully understand the use of "meta"; though I did figure out that it is different from "meme".

10. So I'm getting old and I probably should make a list of things to do before I die (or, before I die, I should make a list of things to do?)
I wonder how many will involve beer? How many will involve pie? Give me your thoughts on that.

Missing You

The past week for me was consumed by preparing for and attending an off-site management advance ("we never retreat!") doing strategic planning for our coming year at (company I work for).

Things it is too late to blog about:
The first struggle to get the candidates for President to give direct answers to a moderator's direct questions.
Paul Newman's Own death.
The bi-partisan, bi-polar Congressional bailout that the Congress bailed out of. (Of course there is time for me to respond to their response to their first response.)
The season premier of "Desperate Housewives", which jumped forward 5 years from last season's story lines and 6 years from when they jumped the shark.
Rosh Hashana. Yes, they scheduled this company strategy meeting over a major Jewish holiday. Hey, who knew it was Tishri already? I wished them all Happy New Year and they promised to atone for this error.

What I can still comment on is tonight's Vice-Presidential debate.
The New York times has presented questions they would like the candidates to answer.
Here are my questions for Senator Biden and Governor Palin:
1) Hey. What's up?
2) If Barack Obama is elected President, will the House and Senate become predominantly occupied by black people as whites flee to the suburbs? As a follow up, what do you think the effect would be on the resale value of the White House?
3) Governor Palin, if you are elected, will you move to have hunting allowed around the perimeter of the Vice President's house so that you can feed your family?
Senator Biden, would you move to allow it in order to pander to the NRA?
4) Do you think "Dancing With the Stars" really sucks this year?
5) Governor Palin: boxers or briefs?
6) Senator Biden, could you give us one of your insanely unfortunate, off-the-cuff responses so that we can at least get a good YouTube video out of this program?

L'shanah tovah!

And Mitt Romney is Her Dad, I Bet

UPDATED - see below
Yesterday’s post has a comment from a young woman named Cali. She implored me not to read her blog, so, naturally, I did. Cali is married to Geoff and they live in Orem, Utah, far away from where I live, so I’ve decided stalking them would be awkward and I’m not going to do it, for now. Since I haven’t done the stalking research, I am going to go ahead and assume, because they live in Utah and I need to stereotype them for purposes of this blog, that they are Mormons, which presents a problem for me.
I already have a reader who is an ordained minister. When I mock religious wingnuts or write about God and Jeez, I always worry: WWJT, What Will Jenny Think? Now I have the added burden of worrying about the Mormons. I hope I haven’t written any rude things about Mormons in the past, like comparing them to Scientologists or lawyers or something. Cali, if it helps, one of my best friends from college is a Mormon, so, you know, I’m okay with it.
On second thought, I don’t know why I’m worried. I do wonder what Jenny thinks about my evangelist bashing or irreverent discussions with God, but it doesn’t stop me from writing them. Heck - no, not “Heck” – Hell, (be bold!) I worry that my conservative, right-wing, Republican, straight, white, American father must get madder than a wet Ted Stevens when I bash Bush or write pro-Obama prose like some left-winging, peace-loving, pro-choicing, bare-footing, lazy-ass hippie, but it never actually stops me. Trying to make someone laugh is more important than trying to coddle his or her overly-sensitive, whiney-butt feelings.
So I’m not going to worry about the Mormons, but I am curious. Cali seems like a nice young woman who loves her husband and family and has a very nice life in Orem, Utah. How did she stumble into this dive? Furthermore, what possessed her to actually link to it on her blog? I’m thinking maybe she and Geoff found it while on a mission and they are displaying it on her blog in order to say to the world, “Look! This - this “Late for the Sky” is proof of what happens to you when you drink coffee and beer, you have only one wife and you don’t go to church! Read it. Read it, and then wash your hands and pray that you shall not become like this.”

UPDATE - It seems that Cali was referred to my blog by Geoff. This is his blog. Okay, so Cali does not see my blog as a morality lesson, it is something to distract the children with if they happen to accidently open panchobizzaro's blahg. But how did Geoff find this place?

All my wives drink scotch and read Humor-Blogs.com and vote for my entries.

Mutual Admiration society

The brilliant Bill Brohaugh has critiqued and even recommended this very blog - and he doesn't even like blogs.
Seeing this language expert's links to some of my posts made me go back and check them over carefully. I had to hurriedly kick a couple errors under the bed and toss a few typos in the guestroom, behind closed doors, in the same way as I tidy my house when visitors are coming.
If you are one of those visitors and you also like this blog, please click here and add a vote for me.

Read Bill Brohaugh = bad, horrible laugh = rabbi laugh holder

Once you've Read the Book, Is That Still True?

My friend Bill has written another book: "Everything You Know About English is Wrong".. The best thing about this one is that I am included among the smelly characters to whom it is dedicated. The rest of the book is fantastic. Buy it! Read it! (In that order). But save the dedication for last because....well, what I said before. Oh, and visit his blah blathering blabber.

Laugh, Laugh

Over in the links you will see humor-blogs.com. Be sure to visit them to see some really funny blogs. If you see any you like, click on the thumbs up symbol to mark it as a favorite. Thanks!