Mardi Gras Should Be a National Holiday
One of the things I miss most about Louisiana besides my family is Mardi Gras. We haven’t been back to a single one of them since we moved away from there because the kids always had school on that day.
So I have a proposal here. How about we drop Christmas and just have Mardi Gras instead? It’s got the bright colors of gold, purple, and green (that’s an immediate improvement over the red/green motif) and there are parades, costumes, and best of all, revelry.
There is no party like Mardi Gras in Louisiana. Some places around here have tried to start one, but it just doesn’t have the right flavors. It’s like going to see that little Eiffel Tower in Vegas and trying to get the feel of Paris out of that. Can’t be done.
Oh well. Anyway…
Y’all have a happy Mardi Gras.
Zombie-Half-Alive or Zombie-Half-Dead?
Here’s a guest post by my dear, dear, Spanky:
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Just when everyone thinks I am some sort of supergenius freakjob immune to spurts of adolescent activity, I have to go do something so utterly teenager that my mom laughs at me for it.
Supernatural started it.
I could go on a very, very long time about Supernatural; the perfection in dialogue and casting, the guns, the knives, the kicking in of doors and the knock-down, drag-out fights.
My type of show.
More specifically, I’ve been mooning over the two main characters. This is probably where I began my descent. So cute, I raved. So funny and so perfect. And manly. God knows I need manly after my ex.
But this obsession was quickly thrown to the backburner (mind you, still a smouldering backburner) in favor of a more overlooked component of the show.
The music.
I like rock. A lot. But I’d been a bit lost in the realm of techno and Japanese music before I started listening to the songs behind the pretty boys.
Suddenly, the long-neglected iTunes card came into play, dwindling away quickly.
I rifled through my mom’s old CDs, in search of Kansas or Black Sabbath.
This was music I’d heard my whole life, music with which I’d been completely familiar, and I’d ignored it?
A crime, to be sure!
So I popped album after album into my overheated drive and loaded up, reveling in radical riffs and watching the songs pile up.
More recently, an associate sent to me twenty or so very subject-specific songs.
“Why, what subject deserves so many songs?” You might ask.
I’d hit you on the head for not waiting for me to answer the question before you asked it, then whisper, “Zombies.”
Because every good library needs a few good zombie songs.
In fact, for such a powerful cultural phenomenon, it struck me as peculiar that some backwoods internet crawler could only dredge up a few. Still, not terribly determined to search for any of my own, I settled for the meager brain ballads provided to me.
Curiously enough, I came to the conclusion that there are apparently two types of post-apocalyptic envisioners: zombie-half-alive types and zombie-half-dead types.
I’m still unsure as to which one’s more optimistic.
And that’s how I ended up with four hundred “Recently Added” songs on iTunes.
Here are some, if you’re into that sort of thing.
Zombie Zoo by Tom Petty
Walk Like a Zombie by the Horrorpops
Brains! by Voltaire
Re: Your Brains by Jonathan Coulton
And, for a blast to the past…
Heat of the Moment by Asia
Soft Edged Questions
I have this real estate license requirement where I have to take a continuing ed class every couple of years. That is due now, so I found one that allows me to study on my own and take the test online.
Just after signing up, I had to fill out a verification page. It had these supposedly simple questions to which only I would know all the answers. These same questions will randomly pop up while I’m taking the test and I’ll have 15 seconds to answer or the test will shut down. This is just to make sure it is me and not some person I paid to take the test for me.
Easy enough, right?
Well, the first question was. What year were you born?
It got a little tricky with the second question. What are the last four digits of your phone number? Which phone are they talking about, my home, mobile, or business number? Okay, I’ll have to remember I gave them my home one. Fine.
Third. What city were you born in? Well, that is a very long name and sure as shit they will ask me over and over again and I’ll be fighting the clock to get that typed in there.
Fourth. What color are your eyes? Well, hell, that depends. Some days they are green and some they are blue. Even my driver’s licenses through the years aren’t consistent.
Five. What is my favorite movie? Ah, crap, “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” is too much to type. I’ll just say “ET,” but that’s a lie. Or did I say “AI”? More on that later.
Six. Month you were born in? It should have been May. Damn.
Seven. How many siblings do you have? That was the hardest question on there and it caught me by surprise. I just sat there for the longest time without a clue. What do they mean? How many I used to have, or how many I have left? I don’t even remember what answer I gave, 2 or 4. What sort of fucking question is that anyway? That is exactly when I forgot the movie lie I told.
Eight. What is your hobby? Who has one hobby? This is screwed up.
Nine. What state do you want to retire in? That’s it, I’ve had it with sentences ending in prepositions, I’m supposed to learn something from these people? I don’t want to retire at all, ever, much less commit to a place. I’ll have to tell another lie. But which state? Screw that, I put “bliss.”
Ten. What is your favorite food? Hmmm. I could say, Cajun or be more specific with boiled crabs, but wait, fried oysters are awesome too.
I’m so screwed, I’m going to flunk the easiest questions on that test.
I’m Fixing a Shower
I’ve had a couple of loose tiles in the tub/shower area for a while and finally decided to do something about it.
Since we have other baths in the house, I just told everyone not to use the shower in there until it was fixed. When a shower stall is not intact, water gets between the walls and can leak onto the slab and cause it to expand. That can cause foundation damage, so this is something that should always be taken care of at the first sign of the problem.
One reason I put it off for so long is the grout is a custom color. We have extra grout mix the builder left for us in the attic, but I didn’t remember the color, there are several different ones they used in the house.
I took little scoops of each one and tried to match by eye, but none of them seemed right. The only thing I can imagine is the people who did the post builder cleaning used bleach in there which caused the color to fade.
I’ll try that once the caulking is done. Another problem. The builder left about four tubes of matching caulk, but left every single one of them open, so they dried out.
So here I am just trying to get some handy work done and I just don’t have the materials I need. I could have gotten this done in just one day, but now I have to order this colored caulk over the internet.
I wouldn’t even consider hiring someone for this job. I know what they’d say, they can’t match the grout so they must remove all of it and grout it all over again so the color will be uniform.
And I can see them breaking tiles while removing grout.
And then they’d have to order new tiles and the lot wouldn’t match.
I know, I’ve been through this before. To hell with that, I don’t feel like making an appointment with someone who might not show up anyway. Or will take off, never to be seen again after giving them money for supplies. Had that happen before.
Dude came in here talking about Jesus this, and God that, and had a crucifix around his neck. Didn’t fool me, in fact, after he started that I told Blane, “Watch out, he’s gonna take the money and run.”
And he did. He turned out to be a crackhead. I know because Blane took off with a pocketful of knives and found him. (Don’t ever take money from Blane, he will track you down like a bloodhound until he gets back every penny.) Anyway, he caught the guy redhanded. Smoking crack. Oh boy…
Long story short, I don’t want to put Blane’s life at risk, so I’m fixing the shower.
Signs
This is an amazing short that does exactly what a movie should do in the purest sense. Tell a story visually.
Even though the settings are ordinary (bachelor’s apartment, office buildings, city streets), the camera angles and movement, framing, lines, lighting, are not.
“Signs” by director Patrick Hughes is a lovely romantic story.
The lead actor and actress do not have a single line of dialogue in here (unless you count their signs).
