The Pacoima plane crash - 1957

A recent blog of my daughter Jenifer addressed her Top 5 fears. One of which was a plane crash. In the blog, she referrenced something that happened to me many years ago. It prompted me to finally sit down and put some of my thoughts about it to "paper".

Back in 1957, I was a 7 year old living in the L.A. suburb of Pacoima, California. Pacoima was a one of many little towns in the east San Fernando Valley, a short distance from Burbank. My family had moved from Burbank a couple years before...after "immigrating" from South Dakota in 1952. We bought a nice new tract home that in today's standards was quite modest...the kind depicted in the TV series, Wonder Years. Those homes are probably still there today, only the area of town we lived in is now called Arleta (named from the main street that runs through it, the street we lived on). Today, Pacoima has pretty much delapidated into a ghetto, or one of the "hoods" of the once desireable San Fernando Valley. It is not a nice place any longer. One of Pacoima's claims to fame is that it is where singer Richie Valens lived. He attended Pacoima Junior High, situated right next door to my elementary school, Terra Bella Elementary. In late 1957, we moved away (20 miles or so, to Canoga Park) the extreme west end of the valley. And that is where I resided from that year until the early 70's.

On January 31, 1957 at 11:18 am...something happened that would probably affect me the rest of my life. In fact, considering that this happened almost 50 years ago...and I still think about it today...would be proof that it did (and still does) affect me greatly. I have dreams about it to this day...nightmares mostly.

A large, four-engine commercial airliner on a test flight over the valley collided in mid-air with an Air Force jet on a training mission. There were no passengers on the airliner, just a minimal four-person flight crew. The Air Force jet had a pilot and navigator. The two aircraft plummeted to earth from 25,000 feet raining debris over areas of the east valley, the jet crashing into an uninhabited area near my school. The airliner crashing into the athletic field of Pacoima Junior High School...the field was filled with students. It actually came in at an angle, clipping a church next door, skidding into the school, filling the schoolyard with flaming fuel, debris, and aircraft parts...and mowing down schoolkids.

Me...I was in class at Terra Bella Elementary in one of those "temporary" bungalos lined up right next to the junior high athletic field. Between our classroom and the field was a chain high link fence a few feet away. I don't recall exactly what our class was doing at the time, maybe reading...it was late morning. Those old bungalos had high celings and huge windows on the junior high side. The windows going all the way to the ceiling, the kind you need one of those long poles to close the top ones. They were all wide open...you could see the older, junior high kids playing soccer, or football, or baseball in the field...just a few yards away.

I don't think any of us in that class saw the plane coming down. There was no warning. No one noticed anything unusual. Many years later, I found a map of the school (from a Pacoima newspaper) that depicted the path of the airliner as it entered the field. Had it not crashed into the church and then into the athletic field, it would have continued on...into my classroom. As it was, all this was going to happen just a hundred feet or so from where I was at my desk.

The sound of the crash was deafening. Like nothing I had heard before. Not until many years later would I hear sounds like this, when I went to Vietnam.

One of my most distinct memories of that moment in time was my efforts to get under my desk. In those days, weekly atomic bomb drills were mandatory...it was the middle of the cold war. We would have to crawl under our desks, crouch on our knees, and place our arms around our heads. It was a part of school life back then. I say "efforts" to get under my desk since the desk and the building was shaking so much, I couldn't get under it. The desk was bouncing up and down like during an earthquake. My head was banging on the edge of it. The rumbling explosion sound continued...it seemed to go on forever. Kids in our class were screaming...the teacher was screaming...and some junior high kids were screaming outside the window, trying to climb over the fence outside the windows...attempting to avoid the flaming debris coming at them...and at us.

Behind the children climbing the fence, I could see nothing but orange flame and black smoke in the field, billowing up into the sky. Years later, I was reminded that some of the children climbing the fence were on fire. I remember seeing that...but had blocked it out for many years.

The teacher quickly decided that we needed to get out of the classroom, I hadn't been successful in getting under the desk anyway. She led us outside, the doors were on the other side of the bungalo from the junior high fence and the crash site. As we exited the classroom, I glanced up in the sky and watched the huge black and orange fireball billowing up behind our bungalo. Debris was falling everywhere. The teacher decided that this was not the best path considering all the flaming aircraft parts falling all around...she hurried us back into the classroom. At this point in time, most of my memories are a little blurry. The carnage right outside our windows was still going on. Kids were still trying to climb the fence. I saw things that I shouldn't...things that no one should.

Our teacher grabbed the window pole and started closing the windows and the blinds. It only took a few seconds. When all the blinds were closed, the classroom was now dark as the power had gone out. Children all around me were crying. The teacher was crying. I can't really remember how I felt at that moment. Probably just scared shitless! Maybe I was crying. I was 7 years old.

I don't recall the length of time we sat in that classroom before I raised my hand and asked to go to the bathroom. Maybe a few minutes, maybe half an hour. During this time, the teacher suggested we turn on the record player and play some records (anything to get our minds off what had just happened). I remember the whole class, in chorus, chunkling at this idea, as the power had gone out when the plane hit. "Oh, yea", the teacher said, "what would you like to do?" She began letting us all make a trip to the bathroom in pairs. "Hold your partner's hand and stay together...go straight to the restroom and come right back". The restrooms were also in one of those bungalos, a few yards from our classroom. My partner and I left the class and headed for the restroom. We had to pass by the outside covered lunch area, right next to our playground. Lodged inside this covered lunch area, resting on the picnic-type tables...was an engine...a fifteen foot long airliner engine, pretty much intact. Since the buildings now blocked the view of the junior high field, I couldn't see what was going on there...fortunately. The air smelled of burning gas, the black smoke continued to billow into the sky from the other side of our classroom building. There were pieces and parts of airplane everywhere. I remember picking a spark plug off the ground on my way to the bathroom (the airliner was not a jet, it had piston engines). I don't think I put it in my pocket...I just threw it back on the ground. Next to the lunch area was a huge piece of twisted and burned metal, about the size of a car...still smoking.

There were people running everywhere. Police...firemen...medical people...and parents looking for their children. My mom ran the quarter mile or so to the school and picked me up. She had heard the crash and saw the fireball rolling up into the sky from our house a few blocks away.

This particular air disaster did bring about changes in some aircraft procedures, ie, test flights over heavily populated areas. The official cause was listed as pilot error.

The documented human toll was 3 students and 5 crew members killed. Approximately 75 injured, many very seriously. Richie Valen's cousin was one of the three students who died in that crash (the scene depicted at the beginning of the movie La Bamba). Richie himself (a student at Pacoima Junior High) was not at school that day, he was at his uncle's funeral. The undocumented, long-term affects on the people involved and nearby...I suppose nobody really knows. I can only speak for myself.

I don't remember any formal psychological followup. In todays world, aftermath counseling is a given. Mine came much later in life I suppose.

One bit of information that reminds me of how fortunate I was that day concerns the classrooms on either side of mine. Those other classrooms next to ours were vacant that day...those classes were on a field trip. Both of them were filled with aircraft parts...a landing gear in one...burned engine parts and sheet metal in the other. Our room was spared. Why? Fate I guess. In any case, I must be still here for a reason...we just need to figure out what that reason is!

Aquaria

Well...I dove back into the aquarium thing last week (pardon the marine-like pun).

I have always had a penchant (that word sounded good for some reason) for keeping an aquarium, albeit with various degrees of success. Since I was 12 years old I have loved aquariums and tropical fish. Of course, the enthusiasm always wained after a short amount of time. My attention to maintenance went down (or away). The fish would die...and the aquarium went into the garage for a while. Then, I would start it up again or buy a new one (usally bigger and more expensive each time).

This time I decided to "go for it". To make a leap of faith so to speak. I did it again...this time I went saltwater!!! OMG...am I insane? Do I not remember past aquatic failures? Did I not heed the warnings, ie, saltwater tanks require so much more maintenance and attention? Apparently not...

Yes...that is a 60 gallon saltwater "show tank". The 60 gallons is a record for me, the largest yet. The "show tank" just means it is very tall and thin, allowing for a much bigger viewing area. It will also allow for a much better view of the algae and dead fish if it comes to that! But...let us think positively. For I pledged to do it right this time, "Loretta...I promise to take care of it". That last statement sounded just like a child's plea for a kitten or a puppy, didn't it? Seriously, I will make it happen this time or my name isn't...well, let's not go that far.

With a saltwater tank, there really isn't that much more maintenance. It's just that they are much less forgiving than freshwater tanks when you don't do the minimal. That minimal is a monthly water exchange and filter cleaning (or element replacement). The water exchange involves draining about 20% of the water and replacing it with fresh (or in this case, salinated), dechlorinated water. I can do that. I will do that. I have to do that...Loretta told me that she is NOT going to do that!

Sure, you must keep the glass clean inside and out. Windex for the outside, an algae scraper sponge thingy for the inside. Sure, monitor the salinity level...very simple with the inexpensive floating hydrometer I got. The temperature? Well, yes...that's another issue...not as important in the summer as in the winter. This time of year, the temperature is pretty much self regulated with A/C. In the winter, the inside air temp gets cool at night, hence the need for an in-tank heater. Not a problem...got one, ready to go. Beyond all that...we're stylin' with a very nice piece of living furniture. We have two screens of entertainment going at once...the tank is right next to the plasma TV!

Oh, one more issue...the fish can be expensive. They can be very expensive...depending on how exotic one wishes to go. Factor in the mortality rate, and the fish are even more costly. But, go back a couple of paragraphs now...if I adhere to the aquaria pledge I made, things should be OK, right? Let's hope so.

Speaking of fish. We have started with the so-called Saltwater Fish for Beginners. Yes, a few of the aquarium website on-line fish stores have this list for us salty novices. Some of the little guys cost between $3 and $5...not bad. Of course, these little hardy fish are somewhat aggressive toward other fish...and, they grow fast. Did I mention that characteristic of saltwater aquarium fish? They grow a lot faster (and bigger) than freshwater fish. That's all relative though...bigger is relative. For instance, a little damsel fish or clownfish (like Nemo) may grow to 5 or 6 inches...but not overnight. It may take a few years. Not a problem (have I said this before?). That will just be another motivating factor for getting another (and much bigger) tank! Anyway...

Above is a Yellow Tang. Below is a Spotted or Pajama Cardinal Fish.

This orange guy below is a Tomato Clownfish, a close relative of the Percula Damsel, aka, Nemo fish. We will probably not get a Nemo fish, as they are (pound for pound) one of the most aggressive saltwater fish around, ie, will try to kill others that resemble it!

The ugly one is an Algae Blenny. Not pretty, but does his job well...eating algae and keeping to himself.

There is another one, an Engineer Goby. A skinny, striped, eel-like fish. But he was very camera shy. Seems he digs little holes to hide in under the sand. In fact, his little hole is so big it has undermined one of the decorations. I think he made it a two-story hole with a three car garage!

So far, so good. We just got back from the aquarium store with five new "cheapies"...several colors and varieties of Damsel fish. Photos forthcoming. Wish me luck!

Lady in the Wah-Wah

Well...we saw Lady in the Water today. I had been anxiously anticipating M. Night Shyamalan's latest cinematic offering for several weeks. If you plan to see it in the near future, better not read on...there will be so-called spoilers.

First, let me say that I am an M. Night fan, as is my daughter Jenifer. She and her husband Roth went to see it this past Saturday (opening weekend) in Seattle. Unfortunately, the theatre where it was showing stopped the movie two thirds of the way through, cleared everyone out (offering passes for future visits), and told them to go home! Evidently, there was some sort of technical or electrical problem that prevented them from continuing the showing. They attempted to locate another theatre showing Lady in the Water that night without success (it was sold out). The next day, they went to see another movie, planning to sneak into the last 1/3 of Lady after the first movie was over. But, paranoia and conscience prevailed. She couldn't get herself to committ larceny...even for a long-anticipated movie. Besides, she has told me since that she was so disappointed in the first two thirds, she wasn't that interested in seeing the ending. Wow! We went to see it anyway.

Back to the swimming pool fairy tale. In a nutshell, apparently Lady in the Water is based on a children's fairy tale set in modern-day "reality". A bedtime story that M. Night has told his children...or something along those lines. It is also supposedly an often-told story in many cultures, one of which is Chinese...from whence one of the movie's characters explains to the main character.

That main character, Cleveland Heep, is one of the highlights of the film. More accurately, the actor who plays Heep is one of the highlights of the film. For me, an M. Night Shyamalan film starring Paul Giamatti is must-see movie material. I have been a big fan of Giamatti for many years. I guess it's because I can closely relate to some of his movie roles. Often playing quirky, depressed, no self esteem roles, ie, Miles Raymond in Sideways, Kenny 'Pig Vomit' Rushton in Private Parts, Harvey Pekar in American Splendor, and even the fidgety orangutan slave trader Limbo in Planet of the Apes...I simply enjoy seeing his movies. In Lady in the Water, I feel that Paul Giamatti was over-cast! He is much too much of a great actor to have starred in this childish "thriller". But, he does play another troubled, depressed (and in this one, stuttering) individual.

Yes, it is a thriller...at times. But most of the time, it is a slow-moving, children's boogeyman movie that isn't really very scary. Even in that genre, some of the situations and parts of the storyline are just not believable! I know that sounds like a bit of a conumdrum or something (a supernatural thriller that has unbelievable parts), but it's true. Heep goes around explaining this developing story to a bunch of weirdo residents of a Philadelphia apartment complex (he is the super). Part of his explaination involves convincing these people that they are integral characters in the long-told fairy tale that is about to come true. A fairy tale that pertains to a race of people living in the water (the Blue World) that have been there for thousands of years.

You see, all of this goobly gop is explained in the opening credits! At the start of the film, there is a voice over various stick figure cartoon like images, all depicting the relationship between the above world people and the water world people (presumebly over eons of time). The water world people get pissed off because us above world folk continue to kill each other and plunder mother earth. So they pretty much give up on us...and stay out of sight...until now. Evidently an age old profecy must be fulfilled, ie, send one of their water nymphs (the mother nymph no less, although she herself is not aware of her stature) upstairs and warn us. What is she there to warn us about?...sorry, I totally missed that! I didn't even dose off once during the film...and the whole purpose for this above water visit is a mystery to me. Hence, the title Lady in the Water. More accurately, the Lady from the Water as she really isn't in the water much during the film. In fact, when Cleveland sees something in the water (swimming pool) the first time, he does something my parents always told us not to do around the pool: he runs! He runs around the pool, slips on the wet deck, hits his head, and falls in the water...unconscious. He wakes up in his own bed with the Lady in the Water (played by Bryce Dallas Howard...Opie's daughter) sitting next to the bed and wearing (only) one of his shirts. Yes...she speaks perfect English. Yes...she is strangely etheral. And, yes...she is forbidden from telling us poor above world slobs exactly why she is there. And so the guessing game insues. Heep (Giamatti) must unravel the mystery as to why she is there. That's about it.

Beyond all the why-is-she-here mystery, there is not much more. Yes...there is a monster...a big bad wolf-like thing with twigs for fur that followed her up...and, of course, wants to eat her (or blow her house down...wait that was the pig story). There is a giant, magical eagle coming soon to take her away. Funny...at the end when the eagle takes her away, it flies up, up, and away...not back into the pool, the water, and the mysterious submarine cave under the pool drain from whence she appeared. Anyway...there are also three mean and nasty monkey figures (BTW...they go by one name, kind of like the three Daryls from Newhart I guess)...and they live in the trees and are supposed to punish the wolf thing for coming to our world. Of course, they do appear out of the trees, dispatch the wolf, and allow the magical eagle to carry Opie's daughter back to...somewhere. CG eagle flies around the apartment complex once. Shot of Heep (from underwater) watching his nymph fly away with the eagle. Fade to black...and credits. That's it.

The main impression I got from this movie was "what is the point"? There was a lot of deep conversation about what each of these apartment people have done (and will do) to impact history and the world. M. Night's character (yes, the writer/director has quite a large part in this) finishes his book that will someday influence a boy to grow up and become president...blah, blah, blah...as an example. Oh, I forgot, the Lady from the Water can tell your future! Phew...it was all a bit disjointed and a somewhat clumsy telling of a children's fairy tale...one I've never heard, but a fairy tale anyway.

I'm sorry this was so long-winded and confusing...kind of like the movie. At this point, my laptop is ready to die. Time for me to close.

I just may have to watch again (on video) someday. Maybe she did go back in the water...and I blinked or something. BTW...the "teenagers" sitting behind us commented when the movie ended, "That was lame!" And an old guy with an oxygen tank walked out about 20 minutes before the end. The worse part? The popcorn wasn't as good as usual. I even got a stomach ache from it later in the afternoon. Too bad...I had high hopes for this flick...and the popcorn.

Do you have eShopping Anxiety?

Not very long ago, I was asked a simple question by an elderly lady (a docent at our local art gallery) about eCommerce. I had just mentioned that I purchased (and sold) a lot of things through the internet, ie, eBay and other online stores. She asked, "Do you feel safe doing that?"
It was a legitimate question I suppose...10 years ago! But then, again, every person has not ventured into this realm...yet.

I realize there is a lot of eFraud going on nowadays, it's in the news every day. Credit card scams, stolen passwords, fraudulent eBay listings even. The latter of which I have been a victum of...once. I answered her question without too much thought (and only slightly fibbing), "Oh, sure. I have never had a problem in that area. Things have gotten so much more secure in recent years...(blah blah blah)...".

I do a lot of eBay shopping and perusing, too much really. It's not that I actually buy a lot of stuff, but I window shop a lot. This in itself is a bit Skip-contrary, because I absolutely hate to shop...in stores! Except for the grocery store, I detest having to "shop" for anything in brick and mortar stores. Yes, I do enjoy grocery shopping. Why...I don't know, I just do. Maybe it's because I love to eat, I love to cook...and this is a part of the planning process surrounding a passion of mine. Regarding my aversion to the other stores...I think it stems from my years and years in the Food Service industry (corporate restaurant management). To put it simply, I hate the people who work in the service industry...whether it be a restaurant, a hardware store, a pet supply store, DMV office, bank...you name it, I detest them with a passion. Why? Except for a very small percentage, maybe 1 %...they are all in the wrong business! They don't belong in this profession...they haven't a clue as to what their "job" is all about...and should be cane-whipped. Normally at this point, I would insert several paragraphs of ranting about the state of the service industry...but I'll table that for now.

Back to the old lady's question about feeling safe shopping on the internet. I did something of late that could be described as a leap of faith. I purchased an eBay item from fricking Hong Kong! Holy shit! I pledged I would never do that (again), ie, buy an item online that would come from another country, halfway around the world. You see...I did get "burned" a few years ago on a transaction from Europe. I'll spare the details because they are too embarassing to admit (basically, I lost $600). This latest Hong Kong purchase involved a name brand piece of camera equipment for $139 (retailing in US stores for $299) from an established eBay merchant. So...a good deal? Yes. A wise move? Yes. I received the piece yesterday, intact, as advertised, in a timely manner (shipping was about $15). The company from which I purchased this item has thousands of "positive feedback" transactions in their history, so I made the leap of international ecommerce faith. And all was well in eSkiptown.

But here a few footnotes to keep in mind when buying things via the internet. One - eBay sellers can be as nefarious as a back alley postcard salesman. Check their feedback comments and percentages. Two - try to pay only through a reputable online payment service such as Paypal (an online staple, now owned and operated by eBay itself). Never pay through Western Union or other such service, unless you personally know the merchant. Three - Caveat Emptor...may the buyer beware. Any really fantastic deal may in fact be just that: fantastic.

For the most part, I feel relatively secure with online transactions, especially with a credit card. At least with a credit card, there is some history and record of the sale. Sending cash, money order, or personal check? Not so safe in my book. Yes...there are plenty of shitheads in the world who work fervishly all day trying gleen your account numbers and steal from you. But, for the most part, eCommerce is fairly secure in this day and age.

Now, if I could just figure out how to unload that acre of land on the moon I purchased online a few years ago...I would have a lot more faith in merchants in general! I'll wait a while to sell it...the real estate market is pretty soft right now.

Lost in my dreams

Do you dream? I do. I dream every night.




My dreams are long, complicated scenarios that often leave me feeling a bit exhausted and perplexed when I awake. They most often involve being somewhere far from home and my attempts to find my way back home. Sometimes I am lost, other times I know where I am and can't locate transportation. In others, I am simply late for the ride and find myself stranded in some undesireable locale. They also include me being under the charge of someone else, a subordinate of sorts...usually in the armed forces (I spent 4 years in the Navy). On occasion, my dreams put me in other situations that I don't really want to be in, ie, in search of something I have lost or can't find (from actual events in my past from 30 or 40 years ago). In any case, they are very frustrating short stories at best. Never resolved. I always wake up in the middle of the dream, relieved that it is over and that it was just a dream. Yes, once in a while I do have a somewhat pleasant dream, not very often though (the flying/sex deal for one). And, yes, some dreams are more than frustrating...they are nightmares, usually involving me trying to get away from someone or something horrid.

I have recurring dreams. One in particular is quite disturbing. Fortunately, I haven't experienced this one of late...but I did fairly often at times in my life.

The reason this came to mind is very interesting to me. I was watching TV last week, a certain home expert maven who shall remain anonymous to spare my dignity. OK...it was Martha fucking Stewart...alright! Anyway...fielding questions from her audience, someone asked if she dreamed and, if so, about what? She said, "Oh yes...I dream alot. They are mostly nightmares....well, not really nightmares...they are long, drawn out, complicated dreams that are a bit disturbing...not scarey, just uncomfortable situations...usually involving a lot of people and personal problem-solving"...(paraphrased). For some reason, it struck a chord with me and my dreams. "Hey", I said to myself, "that sounds like what I dream about!" So...why?

Immediately, I surmised the reason why I dream like Martha Stewart. I may be way off, but here goes. My mind is always going 100 mph thinking about things to do, places to visit, projects I'd like to complete. More often than not, they are daydreams about lofty projects way beyond my financial means. Not beyond my skills and abilities, just beyond the possibility to afford. As I have self-analyzed before, I believe that I am a right and left brain person: artistic as well as analytical. These hemispheres are in constant conflict with one another. I am always in "deep thought" making it difficult to concentrate on the moment and the tasks at hand. Maybe I have (and always have had) A.A.D.D. Not what I was hoping to find out, but at least it's a possible explanation!

It reminds of a scene from the movie Slingblade. John Ritter's character, Vaughan, asks Billy Bob Thornton's character, Karl..."You always appear to be in deep thought. What are you thinking about right now?" Karl gazes out the window of the Frosty Cream diner for a moment, dips one of his french fries in the mustard, then responds, "I was thinking on asking if you got any more of that canned meat for sale." Vaughan slowly knods his head, eyes looking down at the table, and takes a sip of his soda..."Hmmm". Fade to the next scene. BTW...for anyone not familiar with Slingblade...Karl is a mentally-challenged individual who killed his mother (and his mother's lover) when he was 12 years old (with a slingblade, hence the title)...having spent the previous 25 years or so in a mental insitution. Vaughan is a middle-aged gay man living in the same small, southern town.

Last night's nightmare, ie, drawn out, disturbing, unresolved dream, was like so many others I have had...I ponder what resolution would be like for me in one of these dreams. Will I even "see" an ending sequence? Will I find what I am searching for (in the dreams or in life)? Might that occur in my final dream, just before I die?

Yesterday, I purchased a couple of small books from a sale table at Borders. One is a book on Zen, the other on Tao. Without getting into an overly-involved explanation, Tao concerns the yin and yang of life...and how the most important part of life is the journey, not the destination. It's funny that the Harley-Davidson company adopted this philosophy and saying in their marketing program. Myself, having been nearly obsessed with goal setting the majority of my adult life (thanks to Tony Robbins and other self-proclaimed keepers-of-the-answers to life's questions!), it may be time to re-evaluate a little. The Harley-Davidson journey versus destination thing is very profound. The little Tao book I got at Borders yesterday also includes many photos...pictures of inanimate objects, bubbling streams, ponds, feng shui decor, landscapes, and plants. All, presumably, representing various states of Zen and Tao...the balance! If I could explain it all with one word...that word would be balance.

So what does this have to do with my dreams? Nothing...and everything.

I have always thought that these dreams I have are a burden of sorts. I have even laid down to sleep and feared having another dream. I have feared having that horrid nightmare that pops up once in a while. But, I also fear...or anticipate, or expect, or over-think, or stress out over most everything in my life! The dentist (who doesn't?), an interview, a task, a job, a business meeting, a deadline, a decision...the list is endless. I worry about everything! I concern myself with things and events in the future...and the past as well. The concern, the concentration...the focus should be on the present.

I certainly cannot control what I dream about, only how a react afterwards...and, how I not anticipate such uncontrollable mental activities. Worrying about anything, past or future, is not a fruitful use of energy.

Regarding my self-comparison with Martha? Just another thing about myself I must accept. You gotta admit, despite all her legal shenanigans the past few years...everyone still loves her! She is a survivor, albeit megabucks in the bank makes that rebound a bit easier. Her fan base is a big as ever since the investment fiasco that landed her in the pokey. I kind of like her...man-hands and all!

Now if I could just stop worrying about the fact that I have never made a successful soufle. Maybe I'll give it another try this weekend...I'm sure there is a recipe on martha.com.

Balance: the yin and yang...the good with the bad. And, as the header of this blog states...the Foo King Ugg Lee.

Are you a dog person?

Being a dog person is one of those hard-to-explain things like being a Harley person...if I have to explain, you won't understand (the saying found on some Harley shirts). You either are one or you are not one...A or B...black or white...an objective choice...no gray area.

My daugher Jenifer and I reside (separately) with dogs that are spoiled to say the least. It's not that the pets always get their way, certainly not in my household. But they do live pristine, laid back, easy, mostly indoor lives.

Jenifer's one canine indulgence (so far) is a Beagle named Sierra. This fortunate pooch, being an only "child", is a sweet dog who has lived a life of loving patronization and tolerance. Sierra is very protective of her digs and lets everyone know about it (a barker), despite long-time usage of anti-barking collar electronics. She is also a "sleep in the owner's bed" dog...and, at times, rendering her keepers perplexed as to where the terd in the sheets came from! Jenifer does realize that the errant poops are from Sierra, although she believes that these little morning surprizes are inadvertent, ie, fell out of the dog's ass by mistake while asleep. All this after a few years of peeing and barfing on the bed as a puppy, an occasional nocturnal fecal indiscretion as an adult dog is acceptable. Afterall, Beagles are soooo cute! And Sierra is no exception...under-the-sheet terds and all.

Our dogs? Sparky the Dauschund, Lucy the Boxer, and Sammy the Greyhound. They all have their own issues as well. The list is long, but here are some highlights. Sparky is 10 years old. As a puppy, he lived a solitary life during the day while we were at work (much like Jen's Sierra does now), as we hadn't adopted the other two yet. During that time, our not-so-miniature Dauschund ate the door frame in one of our bathrooms and tore up the linoleum in another.
Lucy is 7 years old. Early on, she escaped the house a few times and was a cloud of dust down the street and around the neighborhood...the only capture method: drive the car after her and open the door, she jumps right in. Sammy is 5 years old. He has managed to tear and few chunks out of his thin skin, one incident involving his toe required minor surgery.

Sparky still manages to sneek in an indoor pee pee once in a while (usually found later as a yellow stain in the carpet next to some other vertical structure). Lucy tried to eat a wasp causing her rather large boxer jowls to swell up and out resembling huge wing-like structures (a brief treatment of benedryl remedied that). And Sammy's long tail has destroyed a few coffee table nic nacs and removed plaster from the walls during moments of exhuberance.

So, being a dog person does entail a lot more than just a love of the furry domestic creatures. It takes a lot of work, a lot of tolerance, and lot of having the ability to accept the love they have to offer. That last characteristic is the most important. One must appreciate all that dogs have to offer: unqualified devotion, love, and companionship. They solicit attention from us at all times. Why? Because that is the way we have raised them. Despite my barking back at them when they bug us, I am still amazed at how this most popular domesticated animal requires so little. They only require your love in return...not being tied to a stake in the backyard and sleeping in an indentation in the dirt. Do our dogs realize how lucky they are? I haven't quite decided whether or not dogs actually know the difference. Probably.

Now, if I could just get one of them to open the fridge and bring me a beer...it would truly be a perfect symbiotic relationship!

The Devil Frogs From Hell

Every once in a while, Loretta comes home from work (Gottschalks) with a nick nack or two that she found on sale. Factor in her employee discount and other daily sale-type reductions and the monetary pain is not too bad. Usually these little gems are simple, unobtrusive decorative home things she scatters around the house and yard and never pose any fodder for discussion between herself and yours truly. But...yesterday she dragged home a couple of items that even she admitted, "Wow...what was I thinking?"

May I introduce to you, The Devil Frogs From Hell!


Yes, they are, to say the least, quite disturbing. Probably spawned from some Malaysian sweat shop, they are made of wicker and (what appears to be) old Yugo parts. Loretta and I agree, besides the weird-ass, bulging glass eyes suspended above their heads, it's the rusty metal tridents that put them into the demon genre. What the heck are the tridents for? Well...we hypothesized a series of possibilities, ripe with ideas for a Night Gallery script. Here's one scenario...

A housewife brings home these two grotesque figures from a garage sale she visited at a spooky house. Of course, the garage sale seller (a creepy old lady) offers up a little history about where the frogs came from...let's say Asia since Eastern Europe has been overused in supernatural storylines. "They are ancient Tibetan Guard Frogs...meant to keep bad karma from entering your home...", and so on. She goes on, "...but never, ever allow them to exist in a darkened area...they must have light...". At this point, the creepy garage sale lady is distracted by another customer and doesn't finish her story. Housewife drives home with the frogs sitting in the backseat.

Cut to the chase. The housewife and reluctant husband place the figures in their garden, lit by a couple of yard lights...late at night, the yard lights mysteriously (and conveniently) burn out. Strange sounds insue while the couple is sleeping. You know...tapping on the sliding glass doors, the pitter patter of little feet, splashing in the pool, etc. When the couple awakes in the morning, they find the frogs in another location in the yard, footprints in the dirt...blah, blah, blah. Eventually, the two possessed amphibians kill the family dog with their tridents, chase away the cat, and terrorize the home's human inhabitants. The ending? A slow dolly shot from the kitchen, into the family room showing the frogs sitting in barcaloungers, watching TV (Threes Company or something similar), eating popcorn, drinking beer, and laughing. The dolly shot continues to the window to the backyard revealing the couple (now reduced to frog size) standing in the garden with tridents in their hands and big glass eyes extending above their heads. The husband turns to the wife and says, "You and your fucking garage sales!"

What do you think?



We were going to return them and get our money back. But, they're just too bizarre and interesting. They now reside on top of our kitchen cupboards (with many of Loretta's other nick nack "finds"). Besides...I would be affraid that they might come back on their own!

Johnny Depp -1, Pirates II - 0

'Nuff said? Not quite.

Pirates of the Carribbean: Dead Man's Chest was a clinker. Not that the whole movie was a clinker by no means. To coin a phrase: it had its moments...namely, scenes with Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow.

Depp's comic timing and sense of humor are what carries the film. Beyond that, it is just another CG overkill cartoon.

Filled with over-the-top movie effects that overwhelm one's simple enjoyment of the "ride", ie, big screen, big sound, sequel anticipation, and butter-dripping popcorn with a 98 ounce Diet Pepsi...it just didn't do it for me (or most anyone else who saw it). The last time I dosed off during a big movie premier was during Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith. Granted that was after midnight...but we saw Pirates on a Monday afternoon! "What! What happened (as I was startled from a brief nap)? Did I miss anything?" It was just too long and too...too...cartoonish and goofy.

For instance...the new villain is Davey Jones (piloting the Flying Dutchman, the ancient ghost ship doomed to sail the Seven Seas in search of...well, I'm not sure). Jones, played by respected English actor Bill Nighy, is a half CG/half live action octopus man in charge of a crew of half CG/half live action fish/crab/urchin/barnacle men bent on...on, something...still not sure here either. The Jones characher has tentacles for hair and tentacles for a mustache. He smokes a pipe and blows the smoke out the octopus blowhole on the side of his face. Anyway...it all gets a bit tedious to watch after a while, especially for 2 1/2 hours. Yes, at least 2 1/2 hours (although it seemed like much longer).

Again, Johnny Depp's portrayal of Captain Jack Sparrow ( a Depp self-admitted characture of Rolling Stone Keith Richards) is fun to watch and appears that Depp himself is having fun playing him. The others...Bloom, Knightly, etc? To coin a movie catch phrase: performances were phoned in!

Since this second installment of the movie version of the Disney E-Ticket ride was filmed back to back (and sometimes simultaneously) with Pirates 3...the audience was left holding their breath for the next one. Just like all the other movie trilogies, number 2 needs to leave them coming back for more. Spoiler coming in the next paragraph...

Captain Jack is eaten by Davey Jones' Kraken sea monster thing. Bloom, Knightly, and a few of the other Black Pearl crew members (the few left not eaten by the Kraken), go up some foggy Carribbean island river to visit the voodoo lady from the beginning of the movie. These scenes, by the way, are nicely reminiscent of the Disneyland ride at the start, ie, fireflies flitting around mangrove trees, spooky river huts, fog...well, you know. By the way, they really overdid the dog-with-jail-keys thing for good in this one. In the last scene at the voodoo lady's shack, she presents a challenge to the crew of the Black Pearl, which, by the way, was eaten as well by the Kraken: "What would you all do to bring Captain Jack Sparrow back? Would you sail to the ends of the Earth?" Of course, they all cheerfully agree. "Then you will need a captain", says the voodoo lady. At this point, boots are seen clomping down some stairs...to reveal Captain Barbossa (Jeffrey Rush) from the first movie. You know, the ghost guy from whom Captain Sparrow stole the Black Pearl? "Aaarrrrgh...indeed maties!" (or something to that affect). His monkey lets out a screech in closeup. Fade to black, then credits...Directed by Gore Verbinski...etc, etc.

Now...'nuff said?

All in all...what an incredible job of marketing. We really wanted to see this sequel to a so-so first offering! Geeze...I was really excited. And the silly thing is...after a more-than-so-so second offering...I really want to see the fucking third installment! Man, I hope Depp has some back-end on these. In spite of the wildly fantastic computer generated special effects, Johnny Depp still carried the film.

I assume the third one will come late next year. We'll be there...not opening night, but soon after.

Yes...Orlando Bloom is somewhat of a low-testosterone hunk...and Kiera Knightley is a cute, whiney English babe waif. Johnny Depp? Well, Depp is really akin to Charlie Chaplin. Despite his off-screen ecsentricity and laid back demeanor...I think he is a good actor. And did a great job with an outrageous character in Pirates of the Carribbean. I am looking forward to his eminent return in Pirates 3.

Maybe for the next one, I'll load up on caffein before the movie starts. Or...take a nap first!

For What It's Worth...

I just couldn't resist doing a 4th of July piece.

I realize that it is a few days late...better late than never.

So...for what it's worth...

There are some pretty fucked up places and countries in the world right now...maybe it's kind of cool to live in the good ol' U. S. of A.

Being one of the fortunate ones

I consider myself one of the fortunate ones.

I realize that statement may entail a world of explanation, so here goes.

That's me in middle in a recent photo surrounded by my friend Bob (on my right) and Gary (on my left). They were both here at our home for a reunion of sorts this past weekend. Bob I've known since I was 15...Gary since I was 10. Bob lives in Albuquerque, about 1100 miles away, Gary in L.A., about 500 miles away.

When you talk about old friends, it is not often that you can refer to 40 years ago...but I can.

We haven't always stayed close in touch. There were stretches of many years when our contact was very fleeting. All three of us managed to meet up at our 20th high school reunion in 1987, then again at our 35th in 2002. On this stretch I hadn't seen Gary since 2002, before that we hadn't seen each other since 1987. But in the last few years we at least emailed each other once in a while. As for Bob, we have been emailing and phone chatting at least weekly for several years now. He came out to California for my daughter Jenifer's wedding last July.

So what does this mean to me? I really do consider myself one of the fortunate ones. Fortunate enough to have a couple of buddies like this for such a long time. Buddies with whom I shared a lot of memories...

Riding our bikes to far off places, playing army in the dirt, building forts in our rooms and spending the night. Celebrating birthdays, barmitzvahs, and holidays. Getting our driver's licenses, working on beat up old cars, and double-dating to Bob's Big Boy. Going camping with my family, watching The Wonderful World of Disney on Sunday nights, and cruising Sunset Boulevard in the sixties. Graduating from high school, listening to the Beatles, and going away to college and the Navy.

That last event capped our childhood...for good. The Wonder Years were over almost before they began, at least that is how I feel about it 40 years later. It was such a great time in our lives...and it ended all too soon.

When you are 14 years old, you can't wait for the next day, for the next milestone or adventure in your life. "Why is it taking so long to be 16? I hate being 15". By the time you reach your 50's, you are wishing time will slow down somehow, so you can savor each moment in time.

I still dream about what the next day will hold in store for me, but with a different perspective now. How can I enjoy what I have and what I am to the fullest? That is how I try to live life now. So, in some ways, I haven't changed much since those Wonder Years. To quote Sheryl Crow, "I just wanna have some fun!"...again.

Regarding my most fortunate relationship with Bob and Gary...that won't end. It will last forever, or at least until we make that final trip to the big playground in the sky. And maybe then, will we be able to ride our bikes to far off places again...or build a fort...or find some new adventure. All those memories are still there.

And, even better yet...how about all those memories ahead of us yet to happen? We are all planning on getting together again for a week at a beach house next Spring.

Hey, we could build a really bitchen fort in the sand! This time, we just need to make sure we are wearing a hat of some sort...so we don't get a sunburn on our bald spots!