The Barber Paradox, two orange crested Grill Robins in the bg? Chuck Pace ©2007
Down here in the well of repose, the pit of remorse, the gully of exasperation I'm having a hard time finding the rope that brings me up to the rut I'm supposed to be in. I have knocked off a layer of crust over my eyes only to find that the scales are still there underneath. Apparently i was asleep, but no so apparent is the fact that I may be awake right now. I am struggling with small things like manual dexterity, visual acuity and ambulatory motor coordination. In other words it is hard to wake up this longest day of the work week. I've just knocked off more eye grime that is the size and texture of money plant seeds, and am re reading the previous dreck from the drowsy fool that took over my body while I was asleep (sort of) (warning: sleeping may cause drowsiness, do not attempt to operate heavy sarcasm or motorized extremity movement, if you have quantum issues consult your physics teacher right away.
There was a Craft Beer tasting at the box last night. I was there tasting the Corona's and Jenni the Old Latrobe '33' stock, Rich was out after one bottled beauty and Mike Wilson was the only one of the crew to partake of the 5 fine offerings. The Damn-near Sipes were there but only for a singleton and the viewing, then they too were off like month old milk. Jeff Skippy Barber was there and drinking a Spataan that was spot on, but having a hard time seeing me from clear across the table. Christy, from the mail-order hot house showed up for a half dozen or so whit a shepherd in Wolf's clothing. And before you cross the Chasm of Sar the night had found its way back round the solar discus and the day found in itself that lunar glow of completeness. Well we had to go home before the last embers of the day were extinguished, and once home we watched the Clive Owen, Julianne Moore flicker,"Children of Men" sat in the depressing future of Great Britain 2027.
Much thanks to DeAnne and Vanessa for there repeated attempts and successes bringing beauty and beverage through the sticky portal of progress and revitalization. Push! Push! Now breath, and hand me that beer. Thankfully Christy was able to supply enough conversation that the rest of us gave our mouths much needed vacation time. No, really.
Props to Micky McGowan in the city of Poe, I enjoyed the disembodied voice through the vapors of space, now that you have props you are just a few thousands of parts away from having the whole boat. Here is your side armed salute, "Hail Kosar".
Chuck Pace © 2007
|

Loaded, Ready to Roll, Chuck Paced © 2007
Last night after helping Scott and Anni move their large heavies with the help of Mike Wilson, Scott's dad Gary Proctor and cousin Trent I came home and unwound with a very violent and hectic movie "Smokin' Ace's", which has about a third of hollywoods current actors in it. Then, to further unwind I went out and picked up debris, and mowed the yard. Those two activities having less of a cathartic result than I expected I decided on a hot, therapeutic, scintillating soak in the tub with the water massage and epson salts. I took along the Douglas Adams book "Mostly Harmless" (an alternate multi-verse, Hitch Hikers Guide book from 1992) and read from page 100 to 142. Not only was I scintillated, hot, bubbled and treated to the vapor therapy as anticipated I was also very happy to get 43 pages out before returning to the dryer more upright activities that make up an evenings spin-down. Since I had only managed 99 pages in the previous 47 years and 43 days of my life I feel this was quite an achievement (shamelessly I have to admit I haven't been applying myself to completing this literary work the entire time, since much if it was unwritten until after my 32nd birthday, but that's just an excuse, I know). It has all the expected people, just slightly off; Trisha McMillan (Trillian), Arthur Dent, Ford Prefect , Vogons and all that in the first 142 pages. Who knows what (where or when) lies on the back of the next page or ever farther in until the thrilling conclusion at the middle of page 277. I am running out of Douglas Adams books to read, and have found his output to have dwindled to almost nothing since his departure from (or incorporation into) his beloved Earth in 2001 (but once again I feel this is more of an excuse than anything else).
Chuck Pace © 2007
|

Jim Beam was well represented off the track last week. Chuck Pace © 2007
Well all of the Racing is done for a week, and I did very well in the Fantasy League, but not as well as Rich who now owns about a 160 point lead in this segment over #2 Jon Saylor. Rich finished 1st, I finished 2nd and moved up 2 places in the segment and three in the overall (back up to 9th, a gain of about 8 spots in three weeks). Congrats to Casey Mears for his first Cup win, (I had him on my team) and Dario Franchitti for a 165 lap rain shortened win in Indianapolis' signature event. This morning the official 500 web site says Dixon 2nd, Castroneves 3rd. That goes contrary to all the live interviews listened to on the radio coverage, I am so confused. I thought Marco and Danica. I swear they were saying two years in a row at 2nd for Marco. Well there's unofficial and there's official. Danica still had an 8th place finish.
So today the move continues, I am providing my truck and muscle again to Scott and Anni to get them out of the alley and to another home. Hopefully Scott has both feet out of the grave today, when I was there the other day he was barely a wisp, almost translucent. Well we will see in just under over an hour from now.
I have been unable to finish my yard work, that I started on Thursday (after 6:00 due to the stifling heat, near 90). I got 7 tomato plants into the ground and some basil plants graciously provided by Ms.Greentumb herownself Kay, and my peas and peppers will be transplanted from the starter homes soon. I did get some distressing news this morning as I walked the Asthma Rat Terrier Charlie, one of the Robin's eggs is out of nest and on the ground with what appeared to be a small hole in the end. There were four and I've been keeping a respectful distance but watching them. Maybe just the fact that there were four is the reason, mama maybe didn't feel the terrestrial supermarket could provide enough sustenance for four hungry robinettes, who knows. Nature finds a way. Ask her if you don't believe me.

Tomorrow is Tuesday. Remember this is a Holiday Week (at least until it is made illegal to honor the men and women who fight to keep us free to worship, speak, live and earn, free to gripe, object, ridicule and mock (as long as it's not a protected lifestyle or choice then we are clamped down by the PC police), but mostly free to speak. We are also free to tune to another channel, or feel bad if we hear a truth that we don't like, or realize that the person who may be offending you has that right too, as long as it is not a threatening stance. As George Carlin so accurately put it when he was at Clowes Hall about a month ago, "God didn't give you any rights, there are no rights real or perceived that were given to you except those that we made up. You have the right to shut the F--- Up! (I paraphrase, but that was the message." As long as we don't intentionally harm others, we have the right to be. Let us be that way, and if we want to talk about it. You have the right to not listen, or to go away too. See you, have a nice trip. We have the right to protect our beliefs and those who are weaker than us or are oppressed, or enslaved by doctrines policies of fear, torture or hatred. If one religious idealism believes that having any other religious ideal makes you a mongrel, not human and therefore forfeit, and there is no after-life punishment for your eradication, we should protect ourselves from that. "My God, is The God, and the embodiment of Love, Mercy and Compassion, if he is not your God then you will die horribly, and I will ascend to his side for removing you. Unfortunately there is no religion that that doesn't fit or hasn't fit at some time or another.
A lighter note. I followed the van above through Ellenberger and Irvington the other day, and didn't know what i meant. I thought it might be bad until I got home and translated it through Google Translate. It says Daily Exits to Mexico. The plate is from Texas, and the side of the van said Tornado. Well I'm all for the message, and the format. In fact our friend Nick from the Chatterbox has come up with just such a message delivery system for each of us to use. It's a rolling billboard. The Van that thought out loud.blogspot.com and available for your use. He will even photograph your message for viewing on the site and alert you when it's going to be seen around town. So there is another brilliant segue from me. O.K. just one more, I talked to my friend Tina Verzi who moved to California 9 years ago the other day while I was finishing up the garden work in the blistering heat. She called, and we talked for about 45 minutes. The last time any of my immediate friends or acquaintances saw here was at Meredith's wedding in September 2004. Now the segue... I call her the Tornado, because when she worked with us at Roberts she was a tiny, very frenetic, whirlwind of activity. Like a hummingbird on speed.

The Van... Click here to send Nick an e-mail. Postcard Photo Nick Wiesinger ©2007
Van, Tornado, Rolling billboard, Tornado.
Time to go move C. Scott. Cheers.
Photographs Chuck Pace © 2007 except where noted
Chuck Pace © 2007
|

The Spin that preceded the win. Photographer unknown. 1985
It was twenty two years ago today. I had cancelled an offered ticket to the 500 from Tom Yorgan (my boss at The Lab; a company now defunct) because the night before Jenni had lost the plug and I had more pressing matters to attend too. Well, Jenni had more pressing matters to be sure. On Sunday the 26th Jenni's parents were in town hoping to meet someone very special. We were all at Washington Square Mall when a hard knock came. We rushed out of the shopping mega-plex (something nearly unheard of for Peggy Mason, or her daughter Jennifer for that matter) and in the process of getting into Peggy's car (which only had one opening rear door) Peggy slammed Jenni's right hand in the door, who's frame and seal she was using to help position her own overwhelmed frame into the seat. Jenni was screaming as Peggy got in up front. Bill and Peggy both thought it was the impending delivery causing the ruckus and I could not illuminate them through the din, and Peggy was simultaneously vocally urging Bill to get the show on the road. Being imprisoned by my inoperable excuse for a door I could neither get out or reach past the two-in-one occupant to her door handle to release Jenni. I had to wallow in feelings of uselessness until it could be made clear to Peggy; through her personal panic at the advent of her first grand-child and her first daughters labor (which she thought was imminent due to the hyper-vocal din from the back seat), that the uproar was due in large part to the fact the carpal extremities were imprisoned between nonmalleable metal surfaces. Eventually (probably only a matter of a dozen or so seconds in retrospect) the information was received and the situation was rectified. As we drove I held Jenni's purpling and fouled phalanges gently in my two hands (still with the feeling of uselessness, which I got used to in the weeks following the arrival). By the time Mason mobile made way to our apartment on Talbot Street across from the Herron School of Art, the institution of our introduction the delivery was less imminent, and the Doctor was called and given an update. We would wait. We waited until late Sunday NIght or early Memorial day morning then made our way to the hospital, they admitted that Jenni was pregnant and admitted her. After a check-in eternity I was brought to Jenni and began sitting next to her in the natural child birthing closet. This room was seven feet wide and ten long with warm and welcoming orange walls and a T.V. on a bracket in the upper corner. She started crushing my fingers with her previously trauma-ed hand through the early morning hours, the race, rain delayed was being delay broadcast but the sound was all but off and I was pre-occupied for much of the happenings, and watching my wedding ring being impact molded to the adjoining fingers when Jenni would feel a contraction. I did get to see the Danny Sullivan spin, a complete 360° on the track without hitting anything. Then came the decision to do an episiotomy, which meant going to a regular delivery/operating room and nurses and gown and mask for me and an epidural for Jenni. I remember the relief she felt soon after the needle was removed from her spinal column, I felt the relief in my left hand (the one she had been squeezing like clock work all day 10 or so hours every 5 minutes, then every 3 minutes , then every two, then...) after labor that started on Saturday, all day Sunday and 10 or 12 hours of intense labor in the hospital on Monday, there was relief and then joy.
The joy came just a little before 7:00 PM.

All conventional wisdom, and the family prognostication had prepared us for the arrival of a son, who was going to be known as Nigel, so when I looked down at my daughter for the first time we were undecided on her name (we had Madelyn and Meredith picked out for the impossible possibility that all the soothsayers were sans sooth on the disposition of this child's gender. Jenni decided that I had to decide on the name. Then there was the removal of mucus and meconium and the cleaning of the child, then I was handed this most marvelous package and with tears in my eyes said to Jenni, "This is Meredith." I have very similar tears in my eyes now as I recall the moment. I'm sure Meredith communicated something to me that moment and there was never anybody else there except Meredith Anne, regardless of what anybody thought, there never could have been.

Happy Birthday to Meredith
The Joy of My Life.
Photographs Chuck Pace © 1985
Chuck Pace © 2007
|
p.s. It wasn't until Wednesday at work that I learned that Danny Sullivan had gone on to win from the spin.

Listening to '"Love Rollercoaster", by Ohio Players (Play Count: 1)
Shameless. That's what I am. I've been remiss in keeping up with what's going down. So much unaccounted, so many mentions going unmentioned, shameless I say. Why just yesterday I was at work and Skippy asked me if I was still going to help Scott Proctor with his move to Crawfordsville Rd. I had completely forgotten that I had even promised to do that, and I didn't have access to the truck. It's not that I'm not willing or happy to help out my friends with things like that, I just forgot (besides I hadn't seen Scott in a week as he has been under the weather with strep and has been out), so I called Scott and arranged to come
over and apply my hands and muscle, if not transportation. Just a couple days earlier I had helped Mel and her dad Doyle unload some furniture at the Shoffner manse way out on Jupiter (see I do things like that. Twice already this week, even). In the last year I've helped Connie Z move, and Travis and Liz too, so don't even get it in your head that I don't help my friends when help is needed. Sorry. I get defensive when I imagine I'm getting some shit from my friends when I'm typing this post (I'm channeling you all the time, so I know how it is, see).
Listening to ''Brick House'', by The Commodores (Play Count: 1)
Anyway, Mel called me and asked if anybody was boxing. I said I was and didn't plan on meeting up with Skippy at Scotts until around 7, she even offered to purchase a couple oat sodas for me as repayment for the aforementioned assistance, I willingly accepted. Rich was going to be late if at all at the box deal since he was picking up Steve (his brother) at the airport. Wilson had asked me if I knew where there was a Chase location other than on the circle, as he wanted to withdrawal some fast cash for an early evening at the box for some moderately priced beverages. As it turned out Rich and Steve made it to the box and Mike didn't, Mel and Jenni were there of course and Jenni was already there when I arrived. Kay made her appearance translucent and we all looked at each others corporeal countenances. Nick poured or opened and all was well at the well.
WELL.
Listening to ''The Morning: Another Morning'', by The Moody Blues (Play Count: 2) While I was inputting all of that nonsense I began to get very drowsy, I hadn't slept well the prior two nights, and awoke with a burgeoning migraine headache on Saturday morning at 4:20 which I medicated and attempted more repose to limited regional success. I go on about it now because it is now 8:06 AM Sunday Morning. Succumbing to the drowsiness cost me about 12 hours and hopefully recharged those dwindling batteries. No, it was not beauty sleep, I am immune to that particular aspect of sleep and awoke with the same garish guise I wear over my cranial endoskeleton.
I have 29 songs in my iTunes that have mornings is ether-epistle.
Listening to ''Train Leaves Here This Morning'', by The Eagles (Play Count: 2)
So I have been speaking of helping and sleep, and recapping both of those things with a little of the latter and none of the prior in between. I have slept and am now trying to regain the track for the record. Unfortunately repose may have redesigned my thought flow, therefore on this 500 race day It's a New Track Record! How odd that I would put a shameless pun in as I was regrouping my mental vapors and fibers to get on with it. What have I become in the Urban Times? A Brooksian punster? E-gad a pun cad! I will stop and start afresh, I ow that to my publics, not to mention my privates!
Listening to ''Morning Train'', by John Prine (Play Count: 2)
Looks like the Morning songs have taken a different train of thought lately too.
"Constantinople, is a mighty long word,
got three more letters than Mockingbird
You put me on a Morning Train,
You put me on a Morning Train,
Ain't no need to explain
You put me on a Morning Train"
John Prine, "Morning Train." I'll be right back. Promise.
Chuck Pace © 2007
|

Yesterday I went to Arbys for the pick 5 menu, the price is right and the service really fast. I had a book with me and planned on knocking out a few pages before returning to the job. I had already consumed my food and was reading and working on my soft drink when following happened. Two porcine Paulines, nay two large Linda's, not right either, two fat Felicities eh, still not right.
Two rotund Rhondas sat down at the adjoining table; their pick 5 appetizers on trays dwarfed in their flesh catchers mitts. I was reading, but could not help but notice that the room got warmer and darker as they were between me and the windows. I had already directed myself back to the printed word when I heard one angrily say...
"You are drinking from MY drink!"
The offending one, obviously overjoyed and giddy at this news, Burbles out , "He,he ha! What is it? LEMONADE?"
The plaintiff says "!!Yes!! "
Then the infringer says, "Hoo, hoo, mine is too!"
By now I had given up on the words before me. Book now almost forgotten in front of me, yet still open as a decoy, I tried not to be obvious in my attending to the scene. A quick sideways glance reveals the plaintiff scowling at the offender.
I replay the commentary and think; What is it lemonade? Really? Can she not tell, she drank some of it? Does it have to be wrapped in bacon before she can tell? Then I think, o.k. problem solved, just swap drinks, they just sat down, chances are the other drink (also lemonade I am able to ascertain with my Holmesian deductive prowess) hasn't been drank from yet. I consider telling them my biblical solution, don't cut the baby in half (call me Solomon), just swap drinks. Then I think there are three possible results if I intervene.
1. They think I am a problem solving super genius.
2. They think I am an eavesdropping a-hole.
3. They eat me!
I grab my book, drink and tray and leave, fully five minutes before my scheduled lunch interval requires; intact.
Chuck Pace © 2007
|

The first quarter mention meter is now calculated and is final. I will leave it up until this weekend, then I will have to throw-up the second qtr, already in progress.
Chuck Pace © 2007
|

I can see why they say that the PBA experience will make a better bowler out of you. The conditions are the same as the PBA bowlers use, and the oil pattern is printed out for the bowlers to study. The margin of error is very slim and it takes a lot more concentration to do well. I was able to capitalize on my straighter style much better than Rich was with his wicked ball spin and hook. I ended the four game set with a 170 average and two games over 200, in contrast Rich has a first evening's average of only 113 and a high of just 144. There is room for improvement from both of us. Rich did have his best effort in the final game, (as did I) and is looking forward to next week building on what he learned from last night. I will be looking to get more consistent with my release and delivery in the next two weeks on oil pattern Chameleon. Then we are on to a whole new pattern, and learning more ways to correct or struggle as the case may be.
Prior to all that it was another Monday and another work day. We welcomed a new front counter person to fill the vacancy left by Jo's retirement, Jessica Latimer is the new girl's name and apart from that I know very little about her at this time. After work, as is the routine Jenni, Rich, and I converged upon the Chatterbox, Rebecca, Mel, Ed, Kay and Sue Hobbs were also there putting the days previous trials and tribulations under a thin blanket of barley and hops, (or cider as the case Mel be), and DeAnne was providing comforters in her usual manner. Late to the fray was Travis, and Brandon and Jessica only looked in over the railing. Catherine Woods sat down opposite of me and only then recognized my hairless pate and greeted me. Jon was not to be found before my egress.
Then (as foretold) off the the Keggle Chameleon (is that a Boy George song?)and the rest (which there was very little of; finishing each game in around 24 minutes, whew!) is history. Back home at 10 13 I sat down to a retelling of Heroes with my bride by my side. Interesting. Very interesting. Linderman down? Me Droogies? Viddie that me Choco-blosticks!
Chuck Pace © 2007
|

The Playbill, and below the Ticket what was actually used by Mel. I was in seat 2.
Chuck Pace © 2007
Thanks to David A. and Jody F. for conspiring to get a block of Boxers to the the Sunday show at the Murat. Monty Python's Spamalot. I bought my tickets (through intermediary David Andrichik) with the express idea of using one of them as a Mother's Day gift for Jenni way back when they went on sale. The show was fabulous as is to be expected from and Idle idea (an Eric Idle idea) and Direction by Mike Nichols. I laughed so hard my sides still hurt this morning. I could go on and on, but I have to go to work instead. With 15 tickets you can probably guess who many of the Boxers were, the usual suspects of course. Bravo.
Chuck Pace © 2007
|

Holy Cow it's the Bat-Mobile! Chuck Pace 2007
So,on April 4th I told you of my visit to the Super Heroes Museum at 20 W. Louisiana St. and the impending arrival(s) of the Bat Boat and the Bat-Mobile, well unbeknownst to me, last week during the very hectic Canon Demo the Bat boat was brought in through the windows and placed in the "Bat Cave" area of the museum. I only found this out today at around noon while I was at lunch with Rebecca Campbell; our repair liaison and front counter/phone personality. We were at the KFC on Hanna (which we arrived at by way of my own Heib-Moblle, that's Bat-Mobile in German) when it came up in conversation (I just don't remember what leap brought us to speak of the Caped crusader's buoyant conveyance) and I mentioned to Bec that Dane had told me that he would alert us to the upcoming super event(s). As cosmic coincidence would have it, about an hour after our return to Die Digital Kamerawelt I looked down Louisiana St. to see the Bat-Mobile on a trail truck being secretly inserted into the same Bat Cave that Das Heib Boot was delivered through one calendar week earlier. I got off three photos before my camera battery alerted me to its exhaustion, and I headed back to the store to change the pack and get back to that for which I draw a stipend: the remunerated distribution of cameras and their related peripherals to a needy public (or in Deutsch, die remunerated Verteilung der Kameras und ihrer in Verbindung stehenden Peripherie zu einer bedürftigen öffentlichkeit). Besides my spare battery was in my personal belongings drawer, so I could not have swapped power packs on the fly, as I was bereft of my bat-utility belt. Still two of the three images make it here for your approval. Funny how the exterior of the Union Station Grand hall looks sort of like Stately Wayne Manor. That's just odd, don't you think, Alfred?
Chuck Pace © 2007
|

Come on in the Martinis are Fine! Chuck Pace © 2007
Well the massage was a success. I slept like a baby last night, in fact I slept right through my first alarms, but I didn't care. I even had a 45 minute nap yesterday after the excursion to Plainfield. But I'm wide awake right now. Jo and I had a great time after the massage too, we drove past the shop where her nail salon and massage area is going to be then she showed me the cute little house with the huge back yard that Rita (her sister) bought and will be moving into in a month or so, then we went to Stone Creek at Metropolis and had an absolutely wonderful lunch that was highlighted with Gin and Pomegranate Martinis with lots of olives. Much thanks to Andrea, Jackie and Dave at Stone Creek, I'll be back. After the dining we walked the outdoor mall, and stopped in a few places including the DSW shoe Warehouse (any idea how hard it is to get a woman to go into a shoe store the size of a supermarket?). I haven't had a day like this in a while, it was like a mini vacation (and my new shoes feel great). It was a stress free day (after the massage), which started about 5 minutes after I arrived with Jo saying, "So, are you going to take off your clothes or what?"
As far as opening lines from women, that's got to be my current favorite
Chuck Pace © 2007
|

Traditional bi-color and Ruutel Clematis bloomin' gorgeous. Chuck Pace © 2007
"We Thought You Was Dead." This is not coming from my faithful readers to me, nay. This is me and my bride talking to the flora which is only now showing signs of beauty after not being there at all last year. Oh, Brother where art thou? Clematis, be thy name. "We thought you was a Toad." I planted thee a year ago and thou didst not flourish. You looked sorry, down and desperate, and then you withered. I spoke to another gardener(Mary Jane) who has had similar clematis dramatis experiences and I feared the worst. Yet a few days ago one of my plants said I shall not spoil in the soil, my toil is best to climb to the skies. Than last night when I arrived from my own toils at the camera distributors I found that another Clematis, this one a deep red Ruutel Clematis from Apopka Florida was also climbing out of the surly turf and making nice with the garden. I was pleased, and it gave me something to blog about other than scratching my behind (EEE). I am up now before the witching hour has even had a chance to simmer down because Jenni is in the bedroom making all the sounds of a steam fitters competition, wheezing and coughing and gurgling and worse. I couldn't sleep in the foundry, so I resigned to come to the world headquarters for some respite from the resonating respirator.
Later today, after the Sun has climbed upon his Chariot and began his tour of the heavens I will be taking the Deutsche Frauline to Dreyer and Reinbold for what I hope is a simple adjustment. The drivers side door has decided not to open from within the vehicle, but the mechanism seems to work easily and perfectly fine from without. I hope it is a simple adjustment or an easily remedied (spelled inexpensive) one. After that bit of fun I am going to Plainfield for an adjustment of my own. Jo, who worked at the store from September 25th of last year until Friday of last week, is pouring herself and her efforts back into self-employment, pursuing Massage therapy (which she is licensed to do in both Indiana and Florida), and Nail arts and cosmetology which she needs to re-test for re-licensing here in the Hoosier state. Rest assured my visit will not involve a manicure or pedicure, verily nay, my visit is to relieve the back spasms I have been having since the very Friday I mentioned merely one run-on sentence ago. Jenni tried to excise the knots in my left trapezius a few days ago and nearly broke her fingers, so I go to a trained professional for scapular relief. Then after that Jo and I will most likely go for lunch and possibly a Mojito (or two) at Metropolis. While there I will keep an eye out for that scoundrel Lex Luthor, I have a feeling he's up to no good.
I spent most of my previous evening preparing my old (McDaniels) i-Mac for its new home in Stuart Florida at Meredith's apartment. I was cleaning out Chuck junk and updating software and adding some i-Tunes for the Apple of my eye's ears. I will have to ship the 'puter down in a day or two, as today's activities, with the added D&R Deutsche Frauline visit is going to preclude me from packaging and finishing the job. It's always something, and these week days off are just too busy and hectic.
Now the best news. My mother will be home from the hospital for Mother's day. Her multiple surgeries went well, her fever is de-feated and de-fevered and tomorrow they begin the process of de-marionetting her from all the feeders, IV's, drips, pulse-ox and monitoring lines she's been wired too and she should be home in time for Smallville (or at least to call while I'm watching and DVR-ing it). That's super, man. I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto.
Chuck Pace © 2007
|

Sensor Cleaning test shot. Chuck Pace ©2007
As far as the atmosphere is concerned, the sky's the limit.
Chuck Pace © 2007
|

The Planet of Radiant Heat Chuck Pace © 2007
I had started a post prior to the start of the Richmond race but never finished it. It like the post was poned, it because of weather, the post because of the race and a general lack of interesting colors in my mental paint box. So two days go by, the Sunday night "Nothing Better to Do" bowling league banquet/prize give away/no tap bowling tournament comes and goes and life continues unabated except for an unlucky few. The finger of God tears a huge hole in Kansas, and the weather in Indy is beautiful. So back to posting. My mother has been on my mind a lot lately (more so than usual I should say). Now you might think it is because of the impending mother's day, but that is not the case. It is because she has had some major surgery on her tiny frame and is as I post still, in the hospital in Gainesville Florida. My dad called yesterday to give me the post-op report, and told me that after her three tiered surgical event her temperature went through the roof and the Doctors and Nurses put ice bags all around her in her recovery bed until the fires were put out. Meredith drove up from Stuart on Friday to see both grandparents and comfort and distract mom while she was waiting for those surgeries, but had to leave Saturday Night (typing that out I had a Bay City Rollers moment). It looks like things are going to be all right for mom, and in a few months hopefully everything will be back to normal.
Trying to be normal myself I headed out to the Chatterbox last night and sat in the glorious sun and read while DeAnne supplied a lubricant for my epiglottis (which hates to be dry). Kay and Mel and Jenni were there, Jack and Joan were there in colorful spirits and eventually Rich showed up for a couple, he had errands to run and a very late lunch to take after working straight through at the store. As Rich was leaving Jeff Jeffries, Larry Edict (Endicott) and Kenny (sorry about the last name) showed up and Jeff bought Mel and I a round, then Larry did the same and by then it was too late for me to watch all of Heroes with Jenni. Before I left work Mike Wilson gave me a CD of his images from Bristol, and another one for Travis (if he were to make an appearance at the Box) so with a shorter trip I stopped by the DiNicola Arms and watched the last 35 minutes with the D's and dropped off the said images from Mike. Then it was off to the homestead and a call to Meredith to catch up more and find out how her day was.
Thanks to Trravis and Liz for the recap and the use of their televised phosphers.
Chuck Pace © 2007
|

Mini-Marathon, no that's not a service station that only caters to Cooper and Cooper S owners. It's a rite of passage in Indiana at the beginning of every May. Canon Day at Roberts. There is another spring ritual. The Kentucky Derby, yep they've done that a time or two as well. This year they all fall on the same day May 5th, the same day that Mexico declared its independence. Cinco de Mayo. Today. I have to truncate today's
post in order to get to my designated parking area near the store, which is across the street from the Mexican Consolate, and on the Marathon path and all that. So I will just get on by getting out. Have a great 5th, or a pint or a half-pint it that's all you can hide in a hip flask. I'll be working,working but if you come visit I'll put down what I'm doing, my friends are important, don't you worry about me. Ooop! Looks like I was channeling David Byrne from the talking heads there. Well I will be working, working but if... I'm sorry it just happens when I start with I'll be working, working but if you come visit I'll put down what I'm doing,
O.k. gotta go or I'll be stuck in traffic, or parking hell or late or in a song loop instead of working,working but if you come visit I'll put down what I'm doing, my friends are important, don't you worry about me, don't you worry about me, don't you worry about meeeeeeeeeee.
Chuck Pace © 2007
|

John, Jeff, Chuck (a different one), Kurt and Vince at Zanies Too, Chuck Pace © 2007
I have good news and not so good news. First the good news: John, Jeff, Chuck (a different one), Kurt and Vince will be returning to Zanies Too for an encore performance on Thursday May 17th. Yes, live Rock 'n' Roll music, in your face thundering bass, scorching guitars, chest pounding drums and sensual vocal renderings again gracing the stage at 10th and Arlington in just two weeks. A sound barrage bigger than your garage. A stage presence unworthy of peasants. A sonic tonic with more explosiveness than a high colonic! In a word, in a state of being, in a meta-physical manifestation: Crambone!
Now the bad news: I Googled the band name, and found another Garage-band named Crambone on (of all unlikely places) garageband.com. I shamelessly quote here: Crambone is a NYC based quintette that has a unique blend: one part funk,two parts hard-core,a touch of hip-hop and a splash of metal. These ex Wall Streeter's have become a popular fixture in the NYC circuit, Performing at many of the premier venues such as: The legendary CBGB's, the Mercury Lounge, the Elbow Room, Arlenes Grogery, Brownies,Acme Underground, the Hard Rock Cafe, the Knitting Factory..etc. The band just finished their first full lenth LP entitled, 'Go Getcha Shinebox'.... So I don't know how much longer the Indy Cramboners can hope to hang, but I fear there will have to be a change of moniker in the near future. The name; inspired by Tom and Jerry (the cartoons and comics, not Simon and Garfunkel, who had a commercially successful hit with the song "Hey Schoolgirl" in the late 50's [*57 or 58, I believe] as Tom and Jerry); comes from a cartoon in which Jerry's stuttering Uncle Pecos Crambone sings the traditional Old Scottish/English song "Froggy Went A Courtin' " circa 1548**, and inserts the word "Crambone" at the breaks in the song. So there is no nefarious intent in the selection of such a name. I think maybe they should change their name to Pecos Crambone, but then again MGM or actually Ted Turner, who owns the pre 1984 MGM movies and Cartoons might take Umbrage to the use of that too, I know maybe..., Getcha Shinebox, I don't think there is a band by that name, and it would be a tribute of sorts (and you can't copyright a title, so...) well maybe not so much a tribute. In fact I have no idea what should be done or why, I'm just organizing random thoughts, and randomizing disorganized streams of mental imagery and puking them out as is my mission in this winding, whirled and whirling world.
So anyway, if you are looking for a good nights entertainment and are on a shoestring budget feed your budgie and get your budget to Zanies Too on the 17th of this merry month of May and may merry, musical mayhem make you rich with mirth and memory. There is no ledger being kept for true joy, so there is no reason you can't budget some time to timed tempo and toe tapping tune smithing. There, that's settled, I'll see you there in two weeks.
* The 1st run of Tom and Jerry Cartoons was from 1940 thru 1957, the year that Paul and Arther, ..er Simon and Garfunkle, ..er Tom and Jerry founded. Coincidence? I don't think so.
** The version of "Froggy Went A Courtin' " I am most familiar with is the Bob Dylan version fron the 1992 release Good As I Been To You
Frog went a-courtin', and he did ride, Uh-huh,
Frog went a-courtin', and he did ride, Uh-huh,
Frog went a-courtin', and he did ride.
With a sword and a pistol by his side, Uh-huh.

Well he rode up to Miss Mousey's door, Uh-huh,
Well he rode up to Miss Mousey's door, Uh-huh,
Well he rode up to Miss Mousey's door.
Gave three loud raps and a very big roar, Uh-huh.

Said, "Miss Mouse, are you within?" Uh-huh,
Said he, "Miss Mouse, are you within?" Uh-huh,
Said, "Miss Mouse, are you within?"
"Yes, kind sir, I sit and spin," Uh-huh.

He took Miss Mousey on his knee, Uh-huh,
Took Miss Mousey on his knee, Uh-huh,
Took Miss Mousey on his knee.
Said, "Miss Mousey, will you marry me?" Uh-huh.

"Without my uncle Rat's consent, Uh-huh
"Without my uncle Rat's consent, Uh-huh
"Without my uncle Rat's consent.
I wouldn't marry the president, Uh-huh

Uncle Rat laughed and he shook his fat sides, Uh-huh,
Uncle Rat laughed and he shook his fat sides, Uh-huh,
Uncle Rat laughed and he shook his fat sides,.
To think his niece would be a bride, Uh-huh.

Uncle Rat went runnin' downtown, Uh-huh,
Uncle Rat went runnin' downtown, Uh-huh,
Uncle Rat went runnin' downtown.
To buy his niece a wedding gown, Uh-huh

Where shall the wedding supper be? Uh-huh,
Where shall the wedding supper be? Uh-huh,
Where shall the wedding supper be?
Way down yonder in a hollow tree, Uh-huh

What should the wedding supper be? Uh-huh,
What should the wedding supper be? Uh-huh,
What should the wedding supper be?
Fried mosquito in a black-eye pea, Uh-huh.

Well, first to come in was a flyin' moth, Uh-huh,
First to come in was a flyin' moth, Uh-huh,
First to come in was a flyin' moth.
She laid out the table cloth, Uh-huh.

Next to come in was a juney bug, Uh-huh,
Next to come in was a juney bug, Uh-huh,
Next to come in was a juney bug.
She brought the water jug, Uh-huh.

Next to come in was a bumbley bee, Uh-huh
Next to come in was a bumbley bee, Uh-huh
Next to come in was a bumbley bee.
Sat mosquito on his knee, Uh-huh.

Next to come in was a broken black flea, Uh-huh,
Next to come in was a broken black flea, Uh-huh,
Next to come in was a broken black flea.
Danced a jig with the bumbley bee, Uh-huh.

Next to come in was Mrs. Cow, Uh-huh,
Next to come in was Mrs. Cow, Uh-huh,
Next to come in was Mrs. Cow.
She tried to dance but she didn't know how, Uh-huh.

Next to come in was a little black tick, Uh-huh,
Next to come in was a little black tick, Uh-huh,
Next to come in was a little black tick.
She ate so much she made us sick, Uh-huh.

Next to come in was a big black snake, Uh-huh,
Next to come in was a big black snake, Uh-huh,
Next to come in was a big black snake.
Ate up all of the wedding cake, Uh-huh.

Next to come was the old gray cat, Uh-huh,
Next to come was the old gray cat, Uh-huh,
Next to come was the old gray cat.
Swallowed the mouse and ate up the rat, Uh-huh.

Mr. Frog went a-hoppin' up over the brook, Uh-huh,
Mr. Frog went a-hoppin' up over the brook, Uh-huh,
Mr. Frog went a-hoppin' up over the brook.
A lily-white duck come and swallowed him up, Uh-huh.

A little piece of cornbread layin' on a shelf, Uh-huh,
A little piece of cornbread layin' on a shelf, Uh-huh,
A little piece of cornbread layin' on a shelf.
If you want anymore, you can sing it yourself, Uh-huh.
So just substitute Crambone for the Uh-Huh's and you have the Uncle Pecos Crambone version, now everybody sing...
Chuck Pace © 2007
|

It will catch to you, and it will make it's correction wether you like it or not. I just flopped out of bed two minutes ago after missing all of my alarms (I have three different ones that alert me to the advent of another terrestrial rotation of the solar-gas bomb each morning). If I hadn't heard a jet taking of in the bathroom in my sleep I would still be cross-cutting my subconscious rain forrest. The jet turned out to be Jenni's blow dryer. The moment it took to sink in turned out to be about 80 minutes after my first alarm was defeated by an unwaking alter-me. I was up and in the World headquarters in a blink of an eye, and now after about six minutes of explaination and verbal digital translation to web matrices I am truely awake. The eyes are running more than the brain but I can at least focus on the fact that I have to hustle or I'll be late for work.

A solution presents itself: I rarely have anything pre-arranged to blurt out onto these virtual pages and today was no different. So instead of leaching anymore of my precious time and insuring that I am tardy at employment manor this morn I will will share the lovely photo and commentary I received from Melissa Gallant about the digital camera I sold her the eve of her most recent mini vacation.

Beachin' Daytona, Melissa Gallant © 2007 Used by permission
Chuck,
I'm still recovering from beach withdrawal symptoms, although the refreshing Oberon brew at the Chatterbox helped take the edge off. Since I didn't have my harp to play with on my recent trip to Daytona Beach, FL, I broke in my brand new Canon PowerShot from Robert's.  This ocean scene was captured digitally from my 22nd floor hotel room balcony.  It was just the right camera for a neo-phyte photog like me, & my pictures turned out better than my know-it-all cousin's did! HA!
Melissa
I was glad that she liked her new camera and that the choice and brief training I gave her made the difference (in this case not a sum arrived at due to the removal of one value from another, a different difference).
O.K.
I'm awake now, it's 7:30 and I'm leaving as soon as find a matching pair of socks, and my keys.
Chuck Out
Chuck Pace © 2007
|

Travis, David's well manicured doo and Melissa G. Chuck Pace © 2007
Monday was the end of an era. An era known as April at least. It was 84° and beautifully sunny. The Chatterbox was a-bristle with activity, the patio buzzing. Ed Sipes was out with a few of the Roberts gang; Wilson, Rich, Mel and me along with Chatterbox mainstays like Brooks, Travis, Melissa Gallant, Dave and DeAnne of course as well as Miss Kay. Kay's friends Brad and Sue were not in attendance last night but I did see both of them the previous week, I even got a rather nice e-mail from Sue the other day about how much she liked reading my blog, and her recent trip to the (very) out of date mention meter where she felt that someone who rides a bike should not get more mentions than some who drives a Volvo, (eco considerations aside I will remain neutral much like the nation that makes the Volvo). So thanks for the e-mail Sue, and the observations about life and hair and legs. Alas Sue, I am sorry to inform you that attempts have been made in the past by certain mention 'ho's to pad their stats and it doesn't help (isn't that right Travis? Kay?). Now where was I, I got distracted reading my mail. Oh, yeah. The weather was stellar, the radiant heaters were off (and the pigeons were on) and the night was lovely. Also at the box were Jack and Joan Green, and inside away from the sun's restorative powers Jody F., Monica (back from Cincinnati) and MaryAnn Beuke. As I was tabbing and leaving after a few half and halves I saw that Monika Herzig was there as well for the evenings live jazz, but alas I was late for the sky, and I had to be home in time for Heroes.
A very interesting episode of Heroes too I might add. Now there is a 5 year gap to figure out. Good stuff.
All in all a great day to be alive (as anyone who is alive should be able to attest, I don't take much credence from the dead people who are liable to weigh in on the subject).
Chuck Pace © 2007
|