The End

It's nigh!  I say NIGH!

No, not the end of this blog (sorry to say.) But you might want to start selling off your crypto:

I am now the proud owner of 0.00061568 BitCoin.

My $29 investment is now (12:21 PM 10/1/2021) worth $29.24. Taking out my $0.50 transaction fee, I'm down 26 cents. (No, actually, since five bucks was free for signing up with CoinBase I'm up $4.74.)

On a positive note, if this doesn't kill it, nothing will.

My next target: the man bun.

I'll keep you posted.

Now get off my lawn.

Will you still need me? Will you still feed me?

If I'm still breathing when this posts I will have been on this planet for 2,019,686,400 seconds. I've been composing this (in my head) for about 4 days, and still have nothing to say. That makes 283,996,800 seconds since my first blog post without saying anything worth reading.

So you kids get off my lawn.

This Day in History

It's Friday, my usual blog day, and my usual self-imposed post time, whizzed past 51 minutes ago. But it's still Friday, and I can still blog. It is also my late mothers 102nd birthday, so that gives me content. Several things that happened on this date remind me of other stories (most about me) giving me an excuse to travel down rabbit holes. (Since when have I needed an excuse?) So, without further ado (wait, I'm never without ado) here are a few before that historic date:

In 1820, less than a century, a mere 98 years before my mother was born, King George III, the British monarch who inspired a band of American heros to declare their independance from the British Empired, died. As a result his son became King George IV.

In 1843, future President William McKinley was born. While McKinley was running for President in 1896 a gold prospector in Alaska named Denali, the tallest mountain in North America, Mount McKinley in "homage" to the candidate. The name stuck until 2015. After being elected 25th President he became the first President to ride in an automobile and the second to be assasinated. He was succeeded by Theodore Roosevelt, the youngest person ever to take the Presidential Oath of Office, which he remains to this day.

In 1915 a lieutenant in the German Army by the name of Erwin Rommel lead his company in a daring attack that captured four block-houses in France. He received the Iron Cross - First Class for his actions, and despite Germany's loss in WWI went on to become Field Marshal, the famous Desert Fox who led Hitler's panzers across North Africa.

Three years later, on January 29th 1918, 68 years after The Raven was published, 57 years after Kansas became the 34th State, my mother was born in Polkville, Mississippi.

I want to go down a rabbit hole about Poe's Raven, but it's all about me and I realize I'll just cut it out of the next draft.

In 1936, the first 5 members, Ty Cobb, Babe Ruth, Honus Wagner, Christy Matthewson and Walter Johnson, were elected to the US Baseball Hall of Fame.

In 1958, while I was still in diapers, Joanne Woodward married Paul Newman. A second rabbit hole, also about me, but I'll go down it: only one degree of separation. I was an extra in a movie Mr. Newman filmed in the Baton Rouge and New Orleans area. "Met" would be an exageration but on the first day I got to shoot (Baton Rouge) I was standing near the coffee pot and I look up and there's a guy standing there who looks a like Paul Newman after a really rough weekend. Then I remembered he was playing former Louisiana Governor Earl Kemp Long.

In 1962 Peter, Paul, and Mary signed their first recording contract. Another rabbit hole, not about me (about my dad, and slightly embarrassing, but I'll tell it.) Back in the '50s (before he met my mom, I'm pretty sure) my dad had seen Les Paul and Mary Ford on Bourbon Street. I'm sure I don't need to tell anyone who they were. But somehow, from the very slight resemblence in name, he always conflated the two. In his defense I don't think he listened to any folk music and knew nothing about PP&M, and he did remember that Les could play the guitar. This story also probably has more to do with what knowledge I have of Les Paul than the solid body electric guitar.

In 1964 the magnificent motion picture Dr. Strangelove premiered.

I don't want to get into politics but, short as it was, that last paragraph sorta did, and in praise of a liberal classic, but it may be one of the very few both sides can agree on in this day and time. The next probably is not.
 
In 1979 Deng Xiaoping and Jimmy Carter signed accords further normalizing relations between the US and the Peoples Republic of China. I believe this was another step down the slippery slope leading to our largest political problem today. But to acknowledge my sides culpability in this I will offer (from memory, don't "Um, actually..." me) the old Vulcan adage: "Only Nixon could go to China."

In 1977 "Roots" premiered on television, and in 2002 George W. Bush introduced the phrase "Axis of Evil."

Well, it looks like I managed to fill a whole blog with content, mostly plagiarized from History.com, and by 9:35 PM.

January 19, 1925

96 years ago today my father was born in Jackson, Louisiana. He was actually born at the East Louisiana State Hospital (known throughout Louisiana as the insane asylum.) As much fun as we had with that fact, my grandfather worked there and lived on the farm. Most of the original grounds (if I'm not mistaken) are now part of the Dixon Correctional Institute.

The same day, in Kenner, Louisiana, blues legend Henry Gray also made his debut. I am embarrased to admit that before I started writing this I had to Google him to see if he was still alive. He's not, we lost him last February. I'm even more embarrased at how little I knew about his career. I'm a blues fan, but far from being an expert or scholar. I did get to see him with his band The Cats at The Caterie (a great Baton Rouge bar that we lost to fire several years ago.) I guess I won't see him again, and I won't see anybody at the Caterie.

And, in the immortal words of Forrest Gump: "That's all I have to say about that." So you kids get off of my lawn.

As Promised

What I had intended to be an update on the family pets, with a little background. But since I didn't start on this until 3 PM, intending to post by 4:45, looks like it's all background.

When I met my wife Claudette she had one cat, Tiger. Tiger was a female, long-haired grey Tabby. I didn't get to know her well, but we spent some quality time together. Claudette and I had a long distance relationship for the first 3-4 years. During that time workers in her apartment building let Tiger escape, she was gone for several weeks, and came back home with end stage kidney disease.

Tiger is the first urn on the shelf btw. That, too, is another story. I don't think she remembers but Claudette had said earlier that if she ever got another cat she'd get two so they could keep each other company while she was at work. Be careful what you ask for....

A few weeks after Tiger passed Claudette went to Walmart. At the front door was a family with a box and a "Free Kittens" sign. They were holding up a pretty little calico as Claudette walked in, but she tried not to notice. After a somewhat lengthy shopping trip Claudette walked out and they were still there, still holding the pretty little calico kitten. "What can it hurt" she asked herself as she went over to hold the kitty. Looking down into the box she saw a grey tabby looking up at her. This tabby was short haired where Tiger was long haired, but there was enough resemblance. "Can I have two?" she asked. "You can have all five" was the answer, of course. "No, two is enough. Can you hold 'em for me while I go back in for litter boxes, kitten chow, ...?"

Anyway, when Claudette moved down here Bandit and Sneaky came with her. We got married and bought a house in town. Her son had a German Shepherd, and took in a stray kitty. They didn't have enough room for the Shepherd, and the kitty produced 5 more. She told him we would be adopting the Shepherd, and asked if there was a solid black female kitten. He told there was on with a tiny white tip on her tail. So we went to visit for Christmas, I got to looking at 2 grey tabbies (and decided on names) and there were 2 other black kittens. She doesn't remember saying it, but it was Claudette who said it was a shame to break up the set. We had a couple of months before we took possession of the house, so she told her son to try to give away as many as possible before we came back for 'em. He gave away one, and that's how we got Tipsy (the black female with the white tip on her tail,) Solomon (long haired tabby,) Hiram (short haired tabby) ... and ....

Claudette had had a black female cat named "Beauty" in the past. The fourth kitten we brought home was black and, we thought, female, so on their first visit to our vet, when we had to give them names, Claudette thought for a minute on this one, and said "Beauty." A few months later, shortly before we were scheduled to have Beauty spayed, we (okay, Claudette) realized that we would have to have him neutered. And that is how we got Boober.

So that is the backstory on all our cats, through my 2019 blog post.

Looks like this post is all backstory, so get off my lawn.

BRAVE NEW WORLD

No, it's not, but I will come back to that, and other novels of a dystopian future, later.

I am setting this to post 63 years, to the minute, after I was born. It will also be exactly 8 years after my first blog post.

I started writing this yesterday and managed to get 2 sentences down. May use 'em, may not. Wound up spending the day reading this blog. THIS blog. Every stinkin' post. (In reverse chronological order, btw.) Some of them weren't too bad, if I say so myself, though most lived up to my usual description. I may go through and tag everything this year, "not too bad" or "complete waste of time." Some might be both...?

A lot has happened in the year since I posted last. We lost another beloved pet (and gained seven. Need a kitten?) I got a detached retina for Christmas. The economy soared..., and then ...

Here we are now.

THE NEW NORMAL

No. No, it's not. The thing that scares me most about this current situation is hearing people speaking as though it is permanent. This is a temporary change to address a problem that will pass. Will it have a lasting effect, probably. Permanent? No. Nothing is permanent.

I have never read "Brave New World." I have a copy somewhere and I need to find it. But I have read "1984," "Animal Farm," and a few lesser known dystopian novels, not to mention the movies ("Logan's Run," "Soylent Green," ... okay, I did mention a couple of 'em.)  One thing that those stories have in common is a totalitarian government isolating the individual in order to control the populace. It is difficult to look at our current situation without dwelling on that.

I have watched more television in the last 2 months than I usually do, I'm sure everybody has. About 2 weeks into this shutdown I noticed that advertising changed, started to acknowledge this shutdown, treat it as permanent. High production value, not slapped together. It made me wonder how far in advance they had been produced. I can concoct some elaborate conspiracy theories..., now is not the time.

More productively, I have read, and re-read, some Bible passages, leading me to wonder where we stand in the Book of Revelation. Now is not the time.

MORE ON THAT LATER

I am going to try to get back to blogging once a week. (Maybe more..., I'm thinking of trying my hand at some specialized blogs.) This Friday I will fill you in on the pet situation. (I took a break in the middle of that sentence, and when I came out of my room Boober ran in and hid under my bed. When I looked in the hall I saw that he was being pursued by three tiny kittens. These are the tales you can look forward to.)

I can also rant further about the current world situation. Much of that is already written, and cut from this rambling post.

But for now, let me just leave you with this cheery thought:

WE ARE GOING TO DIE

Every one of us. The only questions are when and how, and the end grows closer each second. The only weapon we have against death is to live while we can.

So, live while you can, my friend. Go out on the lawn, breath the air. You can even come onto my lawn, just don't breath in my face.

Volume 8

One year (and two blog posts) ago I announced I was back to blogging. So much for that. In that blog I mentioned that I shared a birthday with the King of the Netherlands and the Mayor of Newark. If a text I got this morning is accurate I can add the First Lady of the United States. (Nope, looked her up. Hers was yesterday.)

Anyway, this is the 33rd anniversary of my 29th birthday, and I've spent most of the day, so far, clicking "Like" and pasting "Thank you" on Facebook happy birthdays. I'm glad the computer has given us so much free time.

"Back to blogging." That implies that one ever blogged in the first place. Assuming that "blogging" implies writing something worth reading ..., I have yet to start.

Over the past year I've lost too many friends..., I don't want to blog about that today.

I worked two months giving tours of the State Capitol, until Civil Service decided that filing campaign finance reports constitutes prohibited political activity.

I've threatened it for seven years, but I'm ready to make this a political blog..., as soon as I get around to it.

And until I do, get off my lawn.