Yellow Dog Blues

Just Yappin'

2005-12-13T01:14:00.001-08:00

Damn, I hate writing this stuff, but I feel a need to keep this dumbass blog current, for the sake of my spam commenters. Happy, Viagra whores? Anywhoo, here's my life up till now:
Unpleasant Mega-Church christian woman, whose children are beloved members of Matt's preschool, keeps trying to convert me to her 'religion.' What do I say to her? I'm a pretty hardcore agnostic, and while I have a sweet spot for the Unitarians, I'm not terribly open-minded about organised religions. Esspecially not a church founded on the economic principles of a mall, for chrissake. She's a bit of a queen bee, so I guess I'm going to be in a world of gossipy hurt soon enough. She's an art teacher at the local HS, and since I told her I was working in animation, she's been a terror. I guess I'm a threat. What pisses me off is that she aknowledges Steve as an animation artist, but repeatedly askes me for my creds, as if I need to hand her a resume every time I see her in order to convince he that I, you know, draw for a living? Hey Lady, Jesus has seen my boards! OK, maybe he thinks I could work cleaner (who doesn't?), but He knows I try. So simmer, sister!

There's been way more, but I hate typing. F you, qwerty! Oh god, I'm bitter. I howl at the heavens, and the heavens yawn back at me.

Goodnight, Nextblogger.

Yellow Dog Blues

2005-07-03T01:29:00.000-07:00

by W. C. Handy

E'er since Miss Susan Johnson lost her Jockey, Lee
There has been much excitement, more to be;
You can hear her moaning night and morn.
Wonder where my Easy Rider's gone?
Cablegrams come of sympathy
Telegrams go of inquiry
Letters come from down in "Bam"
And everywhere that Uncle Sam
Has even a rural delivery.
All day the phone rings
But it's not for me,
At last good tidings
Fill our hearts with glee,
This message comes from Tennessee.
Chorus:
|: Dear Sue your Easy Rider struck this burg today
On a south bound rattler side door Pullman car
Seen him there an' he was on the hog.
(The smoke was broke, no joke,
Not a Jitney on him)
Easy rider's got a stay away
So he had to vamp it but the hike ain't far.
He's gone where the Southern 'cross' the Yellow Dog. :|

I know the Yellow Dog District like a book,
Indeed I know the route that rider took
Every cross-tie, Bayou, burg and bog.
Way down where the Southern cross' the Dog,
Money don't zactly grow on trees
On cotton stalks it grows with ease;
No race horse, race track, no grandstand
Is like Old Beck an Buck shot land,
Down where the Southern cross' the Dog.
Every kitchen there is a cabaret
Down there the Boll Weevil works
While the darkies play
This Yellow Dog Blues
The live long day.

Chorus:

Bartlett's Toddler Quotations

2005-06-24T18:27:00.000-07:00

Steve has this little trick he likes to play on me. While we're watching a movie (usually on TCM) he'll casually turn to me and say something like, " I used to peddle vacuum cleaners. Not much money but you learn a lot about life." He'll go back to the movie, and I'll spend the next minute and a half being baffled by his non sequitor. At which point a character on the screen (in this instance Walter Neff in Double Indemnity) will repeat the same phrase. It never fails to give me a jolt. He thinks it's a harmless chuckle; I firmly believe it's a ploy to drive me latah.
I bring this up because this there appears to be a genetic basis for this random movie-quoting.
The other morning, as I was groggily staring down the coffee maker, Matt skipped into the kitchen and cheerfully announced, "Elephants don't have no feelings!" I was stunned, because he usually is such an empathetic kid. Grammatical, too. Like the dork that I am, I crouched down to his eye level and started earnestly explaining how all living creatures have feelings and the usual hippymom hoohah. Then he blurted out, "They're made out of RUBBER!" and ran off giggling.
Oh yeah. Dumbo.
So it begins.
On the bright side, he's giving dad a taste of it. Just as Steve was finishing up the bedtime story, Matt glared at him bitterly and groused, "I always get stupid things, like bicycles and clothes." Poor Steve. That's a harsh sentiment to lay on a guy with provider issues. He was about to go all hippydad when he got it: Lucy Van Pelt, Charlie Brown's Christmas. Matt was delighted he got the reference.
So now I've got two of 'em. The years ahead should be rich.

Drabble

2005-06-21T10:47:00.000-07:00

A drabble, according to this Metachat post, is a short story containing exactly 100 words. It's a fun excercise, and harder than it sounds. Here's mine. (Altho' there's much better in the thread.)

The woman who stole our cat lives in a lawnless mansion. The first time she stole our cat, a neighbor's gardener ratted her out; this time, she was more discreet. We know he's there, but we have no proof. We've been watching her husband's Lexus slide down the driveway every morning. He keeps a golf bag in the passenger's seat, and he's never home before ten. We watch, and her child, mousey-haired and gaunt for a toddler, watches us from a corner of the bay window. Her gaze is feral. She knows we know.
Tonight we are going in.

Unemployment

2005-05-18T02:47:00.000-07:00

So I'm scouring the 'Help Wanted' ads in the LA Times when I suddenly realize they're not the 'Help Wanted' ads anymore. Now they're the 'Jobs Offered' ads. That's a nice semantic twist. "Help Wanted' is pretty staightforward; a company has a position to fill, and assumedly there's an applicant out there to fill it. 'Job Offered' sounds like fake noblesse oblige; "Come panting to the banquet table, and we may offer you some gristle at our pleasure, O wretched of spirit." I seem to remember a period in the early 90's when the 'Help Wanteds' were called "Employment Opportunities', which sounds wicked optimistic to me now, in that early '90's sort of way. Ah, but those were bright days, weren't they?

Matt in Chicago

2005-05-16T02:49:00.001-07:00

Matt, originally uploaded by brotherbix.

The trip to Chicago turned out well, and I enjoyed seeing the folks. Matt certainly got a kick out of his grandparents. Most of these photos were taken during the single day (out of 8) of spring-like weather. We took the L downtown and had a blast. What a town.

Grant Park

2005-05-16T02:49:00.000-07:00

Grant Park, originally uploaded by brotherbix.

Grant Park

2005-05-16T02:48:00.001-07:00

Grant Park, originally uploaded by brotherbix.

The glittering city stretches behind him, but what's got Matt entranced? Could it be a sprinkler head, just like the sprinkler heads he sees at home every single day? Of course it is!

Matt

2005-05-16T02:48:00.000-07:00

Matt, originally uploaded by brotherbix.

Millenium Park

2005-05-16T02:47:00.000-07:00

Millenium Park, originally uploaded by brotherbix.

George Saunders: Wicked Fine Writer

2005-05-15T23:42:00.000-07:00

From "My Flamboyant Grandson" by George Saunders:

I had brought my grandson to New York to see a show. Because what is he always doing, up here in Oneonta? Singing and dancing, sometimes to my old show-tune records, but more often than not to his favorite CD, "Babar Sings," sometimes even making up his own steps, which I do not mind, or rather I try not to mind it. Although I admit that once, coming into his room and finding him wearing a pink boa while singing, in the voice of the Old Lady, "I Have Never Met a Man Like That Elephant," I had to walk out and give it some deep thought and prayer, as was also the case when he lumbered into the parlor during a recent church couples dinner, singing "Big and Slow, Yet So Very Regal," wearing a tablecloth spray-painted gray, so as to more closely resemble Babar.

Being a man who knows something about grandfatherly disapproval, having had a grandfather who constantly taunted me for having enlarged calves--to the extent that even today, when bathing, I find myself thinking unkind thoughts about Grandfather--what I prayed on both occasions was: Dear Lord, he is what he is, let me love him no matter what. If he is a gay child, God bless him; if he is a non-gay child who simply very much enjoys wearing his grandmother's wig while singing "Edelweiss" to the dog, so be it, and in either case let me communicate my love and acceptance in everything I do.

That's how the story begins. A few paragraphs later you're unexpectedly thrust into a corporate-dystopian version of New York City crammed with personalised advertising holograms and 'citizen helpers' who patrol the streets ticketing pedestrians who refuse "a terrific opportunity to Celebrate My Preferences." It's a funny, frightening, tender story with a ferocious critique of marketing culture at its base. That and the guy's dialog sounds like the ghosts of old Bucktown doing eternal battle with the Zig Ziglar Brigade. Go read it. Really.

I've been meaning to post some links to stories written by George Saunders for quite a while, and as it turns out, I waited too long. The New Yorker Online requires a subscription now for its fiction archives [dammit!] so one of his recent best, "Jon", about a bunch of kids raised as a corporate focus group, is no longer available for free to web cheapskates such as myself. Fortunately you can still find some older works, including "The Falls" and "Sea Oak". There's also an excerpt from his latest,"Brad Carrigan, American" at Harper's Online. And of course there's always something new popping up at GeorgeSaundersLand.com, a nicely maintained fansite that also archives some of his essays and interviews.

I haven't listened to it yet, but the Lannan Foundation has a RealPlayer reading online, as well as Saunders' interview by NPR's Micheal Silverblatt. (Deh...lish isssssss, as Silverblatt would say.)

Long Lost Dog Pix

2005-01-30T13:19:00.000-08:00

Found some old photos on the jaz drive the other day.

crazydog, originally uploaded by brotherbix.

I always liked this one. There's something kind Fellini-esque about it, what with Bix's crazed expression & Steve's disembodied hand gently squeezing Matt's cheeks, as if he's checking for freshness. Bix has that deranged look he gets just before he tries to jump out windows; he must've heard the little weiner dog next door barking just as I snapped this shot. Check out that ear acting!

And then there's this:

bixpacified, originally uploaded by brotherbix.

When Matt was still an infant, the poor dog went through this desperate campaign for attention. Can't blame him, really. But when he started showing up with pacifiers in his mouth- pacifiers that Matt was still using -I just about lost it.
Made for some funny pictures, tho'.

Throne of Blood

2005-01-28T23:34:00.000-08:00

The opening lines are gorgeous:
"Look upon the ruins/Of the castle of delusion/Haunted only now/By the spritis/Of those who perished/A scene of carnage/Born of consuming desire/Never changing/Now and throughout eternity"
I don't know how well this translates from the Japanese, but it's really lovely, and it sets up the MacBeth inspired plot concisely. Now I just have to watch the whole thing. Maybe while the kid's at preschool....

James Dobson Gets All Puffed UP

2005-01-28T14:19:00.000-08:00

This is interesting.
Just as the SpongeBob scandal starts to stale, the New York Times reveals that members of the religious right, including James Dobson, appear to be threatening to pull support from the Bush administration's Social Security 'reform' unless action is taken over the Traditional Marriage amendment:

In a confidential letter to Karl Rove, Mr. Bush's top political adviser, the group said it was disappointed with the White House's decision to put Social Security and other economic issues ahead of its paramount interest: opposition to same-sex marriage.
....
"We couldn't help but notice the contrast between how the president is approaching the difficult issue of Social Security privatization where the public is deeply divided and the marriage issue where public opinion is overwhelmingly on his side," the letter said. "Is he prepared to spend significant political capital on privatization but reluctant to devote the same energy to preserving traditional marriage? If so it would create outrage with countless voters who stood with him just a few weeks ago, including an unprecedented number of African-Americans, Latinos and Catholics who broke with tradition and supported the president solely because of this issue."

It's pretty amazing that these guys would consider same-sex marriage a bigger issue than Social Security. (As if either are an issue...) But what chutzpah! The ink is still wet on the Oath of Office and these guys come out swingin'. I figured there'd be a showdown between the Dominionists and the Neocons eventually, but within a week of the inaugaration? Fast workers.

Now I'm curious about how the SpongeBob story made it to the mainstream press so quickly. According to the original New York Times story, Dobson's comments were made at "a black-tie dinner for members of Congress and political allies to celebrate the election results", an event that I doubt the press was supposed to be on hand to cover. Could the story have been leaked, Rove-style, as a smackdown? (The letter was dated Jan 18, the dinner was Jan 19, and the NYT story was published on the 20th.) Boy, I sure hope so. This has all the makings of a titanic slapfest.

Oh, Peg

2005-01-24T01:22:00.000-08:00

I haven't seen anyone comment on this, and it's pretty freaking disturbing to me that Peggy Noonan would toss off such a disturbing analogy:

It was an interesting Inauguration Day. Washington had warmed up, the swift storm of the previous day had passed, the sky was overcast but the air wasn't painful in a wind-chill way, and the capital was full of men in cowboy hats and women in long furs. In fact, the night of the inaugural balls became known this year as The Night of the Long Furs.

I mean, she's goofing on The Night Of The Long Knives,, the infamous "blood purge" carried out by the Nazis against thier political rivals in 1934.

Thank god the wait staff at her table failed to break any champagne flutes, at least we're spared the Kristallnacht gag.

Happy Inauguration Day

2005-01-20T15:04:00.000-08:00

Feeling very disheartened by the Reifenstahlian pomp of the inauguration today. Watching the parade on tv and seeing the number of cops & soldiers lined shoulder to shoulder facing the crowds somehow undercut the grand bleatings of "freedom & democracy" emanating from the president. My favorite post of the day comes from William Rivers Pitt, on the parade route:

I am sharing a bench with some protesters, one of whom has a sign reading 'Bush lied, thousands died.'. A couple of W folk walked by, and one angrily demanded what Bush lied about.

"Remember the 2003 state of the union speech?" I asked.

"What about it?" was the angry reply.

"Well, in that speech, Bush said there was 26,000 liters of anthrax, 38,000 liters of botulinum toxin, 500 tons of sarin, mustard and VX gas, 30,000 munitions to deliver the stuff, mobile biological weapons labs and uranium from Niger to make nuclear bombs. The White House still has a page on its website that claims this us still true, but last week they cancelled the WMD search without finding any of it. That was a pretty big lie."

The reply?

"That was the Democrats who lied about that!" before a dramatic storm-off.

Oh well. The marching bands were nice.

I also enjoyed the results of a LA Times poll, which found opinions evenly split among respondents over whether Bush is a 'uniter' or a 'divider.' Ah, Life In These United States, as the Reader's Digest used to say.

Happy MLK Day

2005-01-17T18:14:00.000-08:00

The Rude Pundit nails it.

Happy MLK Day.

Says It All, Sadly

2005-01-17T17:23:00.000-08:00

Via BoingBoing:

Blog

Ilha Das Flores

2005-01-16T03:41:00.000-08:00

Well, I realise this is a longshot, but considering the number of Portuguese speakers roaming Blogspot maybe someone can help me out. I've seen Isle of Flowers, but I'd really like to see, or at least read, an English translation of it. Anyone out there willing to do the honors?
Here's a link to the short in Portuguese: Isle of Flowers

Back Off, Jesus!

2005-01-15T23:10:00.000-08:00

This has to be one of my all time favorite web destinations. There's something about the idea of everyone having a personal Jesus, a very particular Jesus who may well resemble a stoned guy you know from the local garage, that utterly charms me. When I was a kid, my mother told me that I had a guardian angel that followed me wherever I went, which at first sounded nice until I began to think of the logistics. Is he there when I'm in a bathroom stall? Will I sit on him by accident? If everyone has a guardian angel, what happens when one kid gets into a fight with another? Do the Angels have to duke it out too? Substituting Jesus Himself for the personal angel adds a whole new level of confusion to the matter.
I'll have to do some cartoons about this, but I'm sure I'll be in for some ass-kicking.

Irv!!

2005-01-15T23:01:00.000-08:00

I love the idea behind this blog. Irv Spence, the great MGM animator, kept a daily diary in cartoon form for the year 1944. Filboid's decided to blog it every day for 2005. A nice hunk of history, and a lot of very funny drawings from a pretty event filled year.

Religious Policeman

2005-01-15T22:52:00.000-08:00

Via Majikthise, here's a blog from a particularly brave man in Saudi Arabia. He appears to have stopped blogging, which is a bit worrisome, given his pro-reform views. But he has (had? Allah forbid) a great sense of humor, and his writing is a cynics delight.
And the kitten & camel blogging don't hurt.

Toddler Bloggin'

2005-01-12T15:48:00.000-08:00

mellomatt, originally uploaded by brotherbix.

He's a smooth operator, this one.

The Yellow Dog.

2005-01-12T15:47:00.000-08:00

This is Brother Bix. He's the yellow dog of "Yellow Dog Blues."

bixel, originally uploaded by brotherbix.

He's not a yellow dog Democrat. I doubt he gives much thought to politics, but if he does, he's probably got more pressing concerns than the Reconstruction.
WC Handy is best known to many Warner Brother's cartoon fans as the author of "St Louis Blues". ("My mama done tole meeee.... When I was a bay-beeee..") He also wrote "Yellow Dog Blues", which Bix Beiderbecke must've covered at some point in his career. A 'yellow dog' is 1920's slang for 'pimp', Brother Bix is many things to many people, but he's no pimp, fo'shizzle!

So this blog is not about Lincoln, and it's not about pimps. Feel free to click "next blog." No skin off my teeth.