Can't a Black Man get a BREAK?

How the HELL have I missed 12 Other Episodes of This?

AND he's FRENCH!!

I love this dress

I guess when you're Oprah, you don't have trouble finding perfect clothing!

I've been invited to "model" at Tuxes and Tails, the benefit for the Seattle Humane Society again.  It's such a fun event.  But finding the right dress is not an easy task!

Men get free tuxedoes.   Women are "on their own".

Oprah looks stunning.  I want to find something just like this!  Any ideas?  And, how can I pay for it?

Isn't this a Beautiful Painting?

I am particularly drawn to the sharp lines, mingled with the softness of the feminine forms.

There is truth in the harmonious relationship between these bodies, and a subtleness in the placement of the articles.

Images of the past, brought to life in a new way with glowing light and cloying shadows.

March 28th, 1979

Does looking at the photo of this nuclear plant send shivers down your back?

I go cold when I look at it. 

It's the Three Mile Island Nuclear Plant, and 30 years ago this Saturday, it very nearly disappeared, perhaps taking with it, me, my family, and most of my friends.

Some of the memories have faded with time.  But here's what I do recall:

The day started like any other school day.  I attended Central Dauphin High School, and around the time that the breach in the core occurred, I was on the school bus, with the windows down, headed to the building.  It was a nice, sunny day.

Home room was normal.  After first period, I saw more people than usual clustering in the halls, whispering to each other.

Second period, I had Business Law class.  I remember my teacher saying to the class that they were hearing that something was going wrong at T-M-I, but that it probably wasn't serious.

Then, an announcement came over the loudspeaker, saying everything was fine, but that we should close all the windows in the school.  

Shortly after lunchtime, we were all sent home.  Lots of kids parents' were waiting for them.  My mom was at work (very close to the plant), so my sisters and I rode the school bus back home.

Ironically, ALL THE WINDOWS on the bus were OPEN.  

My school was just outside the 10 mile radius, but my house was just inside the so-called "danger zone".  Of course, we wouldn't learn this until much, much later.  

I don't remember being very frightened, just confused.  What was going on?  Details were very slow to come out.  But in the days to follow, mass evacuations were discussed, many people left.  We stayed.

And stayed.  

School was cancelled for weeks.  I remember lots of kids I went to school with running up to each other exclaiming "I don't want to die a VIRGIN!"  (I doubt many of them actually did anything about that, but they wanted us to know the situation).

We watched a lot of TV news, especially when President Carter came to town to assess the situation.  He was actually qualified, being a nuclear engineer in the Navy before going into politics.  He and Roselyn donned yellow plastic booties and marched around the plant, analyzing the situation and concluding that the community was safe.

There was a lot of talk about cancers that might form 20 years later, or possible thyroid damage.  It should be noted that in 2002, my mother developed what she was afraid was thyroid cancer.  When she had the surgical procedure to remove the thyroid, what the doctor found was that she had started to grow a SECOND THYROID.  I believe my mother's body sensed that her thyroid had absorbed as much radiation as it could take, and her system compensated in the best way it knew how, by creating another thyroid.  It's now in medical books.  But, nobody has made the Three Mile Island link.  

And, as a high school student one part of this near-disaster looms larger in my mind than anything else.  THE BILLY JOEL CONCERT WAS CANCELLED!!!  Many of us had tickets, but the concert was called off because of the uncertain situation.

He was supposed to play at the Hersheypark Arena, but I think the venue was needed in case there was to be an evacuation.

I got to meet Billy Joel when he played at the Tacoma Dome around 1990, and I mentioned that I had been disappointed when his concert was cancelled.  He exclaimed "IT WASN'T MY FAULT!"  

How's YOUR Bracket, Creep?

I know.  

It's kind of odd that I have so much fun doing this every year.  

I don't watch College Basketball, and I don't really care about the game.  I lost interest at about the time the NBA started paying its' players insane amounts of money to forego college and  turn pro right out of high school.  

But the Brackets are something different.   Really, anyone has a shot, and it doesn't matter if you're a fan.

I get a strange little thrill when my card does better than a sports guy at work, who probably spent hours poring over the stats and averages to come up with the perfect picks.   I also just like being involved in something that everyone is having fun with. 

And it's really OK if I don't win.

One year I finished dead last, and that was hysterical because people I didn't even know were coming up to me to express their condolences.

The pool I play has a rule that if you finish last, you get your five bucks back.  HYSTERICAL.

Thanks for playing.  Really.  Here's your $5 back.  Go study up on the game.

Last year, I won the first round.  I also got my five bucks back.  

Even if I don't get the money back, it'll be worth it, because it's fun to talk about both on and off the air.  

Hope you're having as much fun as I am.

Ever Give Yourself a Haircut?

For the second time since December, I have trimmed my own hair.

No, it did not turn out like the above photo.  Just thought it was a funny picture.  Poor little guy!

I don't think it turned out badly at all, in fact.  This time I cut it dry, using my fingers as a guide. 

I don't know why I'm doing this.  A few hours at Gene Juarez appeals to me. Really. But for some reason, I just don't feel like going through the hassle of making an appointment, rushing to Northgate, fighting for a parking space, changing into a smock, sitting and waiting while Kyle finishes with his other clients,  consulting with another one of the revolving band of colorists, making innane conversation with the colorist, saying "no, no no" to each product sales pitch, thumbing through back-issues of Metropolitan Home and Italian Vogue, figuring out what to tip, getting cash for said tip if I only have my debit card handy, changing back into my shirt, and walking back to my car, remembering I forgot to go to the bathroom when I was inside the salon.

It was a lot easier to stand in front of my bathroom mirror and make a few snips here and a few snips there.

I think going dateless for so long is starting to have quite an impact on me.

Don't know if it's good or not.  Just different.

Just Because

Somehow I think all would be right with the world, if I could just have a slice of this cake right now.

It's the 20 layer cake from the Bakearella website. She does the whole thing with 2 cake mixes and lots of foil 8 inch cake pans. She just ladels a little batter in each one and bakes them for 8-10 minutes apiece.

Then a fabulous chocolate ganache is spread between each layer and poured on top.

wow.

Thursday

I haven't blogged in a few days, been living under the covers, sleeping, working, playing with the dogs--the usual.

Yesterday, however, threw me for a loop.  I woke up feeling dizzy and woozy.  I couldn't stand up straight and my stomach was very upset.  I was sure I was coming down with the flu or the nasty virus that's knocked my sister out for more than a week.

So, I spent nearly the entire day lying down.  When I wasn't in bed, I watched movies.  "The Duchess" came on Netflix, and I watched it between naps.  I also put my favorite of the moment, "Wall-E" in the DVD player and let it keep me company as I dozed off.  There's something about that charming little droid that makes me feel better.  I think it's his "humanity".   Weird.

I also think I'm a little heart-sick.  I'm using the computer a lot right now.  Of course it's a constant at work, but now that I'm working with Twitter and Facebook at home so much, I am turning to it more and more.  I think I am trying to connect my heart with it, instead of human beings (or even dogs) right now.  It's how I operate.  If I can connect my heart to my work, my friends, my interests, then I feel the path is clear to proceed.

But computers have no hearts. And I think I am soaking in too much negative electronic energy.

Probably the best solution would be a retreat to a spa for a week.  Yeah, that's it.  Got any free week-long passes to a spa you can give me?  Wouldn't a nice massage, facial, manicure, pedicure, mud bath, scouring scrub and sauna push that electronic toxicity out of my pores?

This will be the first year since I arrived at my job, that we won't have the Mariners baseball games interrupting my air shift for half the year.  I was allowed to leave at 6 PM those days that baseball took over the airwaves.

Those days are gone.  

Oh well....

And Now, Ladies and Gentlemen...

Why this is a running gag on "Family Guy", I'll never know.

But it's funny.

Big Snowflakes

Shortly after 8 this morning, the most enormous snowflakes I have ever seen started falling in my Seattle neighborhood.

It almost looks as if someone is lobbing snowballs at the camera.  I also took a short video of the flakes, which I am having difficulty uploading.  You can view it here. 

Fortunately, it has really tapered off, but I'm still a little concerned about driving to church.  

Even with my new tires, I am a Northwest snow wimp.

Judge Not....

And yet....it's hard NOT to judge, with word that Bristol Palin and her babydaddy have called it off.

I just feel sad for everyone concerned.  

I'm sad that Sara Palin and her party thought they had to force Bristol into something she clearly wasn't ready for.

I'm sorry Bristol had to go through a very public pregnancy with the demands of society hanging over her head.

I'm sorry her babydaddy was thrust into the spotlight at a time he was just trying to "do the right thing".

Good for all of them for coming out with a decision that ultimately may mean the baby will have a happy and positive upbringing.

Sure, a two-parent household is a great way to raise a child.  Absolutely, the parents should be mature enough to handle the responsibility.

But I'm glad they've stepped forward and decided what is right for them.  

I wish them all the best.

Men Have ALL the Luck

What would they do for women?

You're F#$&ing KIDDING me!

I swear to God this is LEGITIMATE!

OK....I'm starting to "Get" it

I spent several hours poking around Twitter today, posting a few times, and reading more.  

I found some people to follow, checked to see if certain celebrities were there, changed my background colors.....it's starting to make sense to me.

I'm not 100% sure I'll use it much, until I get a SMART(er)  phone.....for now, it's just updates from the Mac at home and the PC at work.

Let me know when you're on it, so I can follow YOU!  

Double Happiness!

I've cracked a lot of eggs in my life.....and that's not a metaphor for anything but cooking.

NEVER have I found a double yolk.  But in one dozen organic eggs from the PCC, I have so far found TWO of them!

I've done a little resarch into the significance of this.  Most things I've read say it means good luck and good fortune.    There are some other sites that have darker predictions but I'm not even going to think about them.

So, good luck and good fortune it is!  

Young Mother Sewing

It's been a while since I posted a painting by my favorite Impressionist, Mary Cassatt.  She painted this one in 1900, and I just love the wise look on the child's face, as if she is upset the artist has interrupted the moment, and would rather study her mother's needlework than pose for a painting.

Mary Cassatt was a genius at setting a mood.   

I feel more peaceful just looking at her work.

HUGE Change is Coming

I don't mean to scare anybody, but often in my life, periods of change or stresse are forecast and marked by tornado dreams.

   Frequently, the size of the tornado and the outcome of the dream mirror the change and the end result of the situation.

I had the mother of all tornado dreams last night.

In fact, my mother was in the dream.  This is her first appearance in one of these dreams.  

Small puppies (including Dudley) and my sister Anne were also in the dream.

We were in a very nice little house (not mine) and I heard reports about a tornado coming.  I looked out the back window and saw, at a distance, storm clouds and an ENORMOUS tornado coming.

I remember looking around the house, trying to find a place to hunker down, to be safe, but I couldn't remember which corner of the house to be in to ride out the storm.  

It seemed to take a long time to get to the house, and the puppies and I left the place we were trying to be safe, to find another place.

I remember going outside, with my sister, and looking at the tornado, and praying out loud for the tornado to "move to the right".   And, all of a sudden, it DID!

There were train tracks beside the house, and the tornado seemed to follow the path of the tracks.  The noise and destruction were HUGE.

Anne and I got carried along in its' wake for awhile.  It was FUN!  It seemed as if I was being swept along at the speed of a jet about to climb into the sky, but with no walls......no seat.  

I wondered for a while how I would land.  Would I smash into something, would I be tossed and dropped haphazardly?  Turns out I wasn't.  I was gently placed down, as was Anne.

I don't remember seeing my mother.  Dudley was there though, and he was pretty happy.

Then I went into the house, which was messed up, but not destroyed by the destruction, and went about with my life.

Lots to think about here, but some big shift is coming.   And, it looks like I'll be OK, if I'm connected to God, and ask for what I want.

After Toast and Coffee...

All is right with the world.

Bring it on!

Good Day. And Good Bye.

There may not be much relevance in the blogosphere for a broadcaster like Paul Harvey.  He spent his mornings going through newspapers, reading his script from actual pieces of paper, collaborating with his colleagues in personal and telephone conversations.

And yet, there was no one more relevant.  

Paul Harvey understood the importance of telling a story, in a way that personalized it and turned his 15  minute daily broadcast, and his "The Rest of the Story" feature into the most significant information you could hear.  It was because he was committed to his story.  

Whether he was re-telling an anecdote from the life of Abraham Lincoln as President, or Abraham Wasserman in Upstate new York, it became a tale of the most interesting and remarkable human being you ever heard about.  

Paul Harvey understood how to use his voice.  Tone, pacing, word choice and ..............   the pause, were all perfected when he took the microphone.  And nobody understood the element of surprise more completely.  We knew we wouldn't know the subject of his "The Rest of the Story" feature until the very end.  And we were riveted to the radio.

Even as I became more moderate and then more liberal in my ideals, and he seemed to become more conservative, his storytelling was still compelling.  

Even as I disagreed with portions of his patriotism, I wholeheartedly supported his right to his story choice and commentary.

"Paul Harvey's News and Commentary" represented 15 minutes every day, where an increasingly older audience paused.  Many workers were known to take a smoke break, a coffee break or their lunch break alone, in their cars, so they could turn on the AM radio and listen to what he had to say every day.

And when his local broadcasts were moved from KOMO to KVI, I understood the reasoning, but silently mourned the loss of his daily contribution.  

And nobody could sell a Bose radio better.   ABC said last year that Paul Harvey made up 10-percent of its' network revenue stream.  

I selected the photo above because Paul Harvey's beloved wife Angel died last year at the age of 92.

Yesterday, when he passed, at the age of 90, he was once again reunited with his mate, professional collaborator and best friend.

And God is about to get an earful.

Good Day.