Sunday, August 31, 2003

One More Entry

Before the month flips over, and this all is archived.

September will be an interesting month, no doubt. Interesting happenings on the journalism front, and I might well start up a copy-editing themed blog. That's still up in the air, though. I don't know if I can handle the responsibility.

The S.O. and myself will doubtless deal with the dog in many contexts, and we yet may be successful in finding interesting things to do in the St. Pete area.

And who knows? Fate well may toss a wrench into everything. What fun that would be.

Cripes!

It's the last day of August. And am I writing some huge blog entry, encapsulating the past month into a slew of witty aphorisms?

Nope.

I'm drinking a jug of Diet Coke, writing a poem and attempting to work. The evening is likely to be busy.

Saturday, August 30, 2003

Restraining Rage

And am handling it quite nicely, thank you.

Updated Information

I used to post this about every month, but I've fallen out of the habit. Here, once again, is a bit about yours truly.

Name: Mandango P. Festoon.
Age: 46.
Height: 5'1.
Weight: 460.
Occupation: Night janitor at Victoria's Secret.
Main goal in life: To trim my bloated physique.
Secondary goal: To finish reading the complete works of Marcel Proust.
Another random goal: Learn to chew.

Words

Here are some words for today:

envelop
rectilinear
folded
prune
grotesque
zoom
opportunity
mystique

So Tired

Just back from a walk with the dog. Yes, she's still around, although less adorable at times.

She's delighted whenever she's taken outside, though. I wish I became that happy whenever I stepped outside the confines of this apartment. I'd be a much more outgoing guy.

Friday, August 29, 2003

Ramblings Late at Night

I've meant to update more. The S.O. keeps pestering me about it, and he's right. There's a marvelous plasticity to a blog like this, and I'm a fool not to use it more often. So, after I finish flagellating myself, perhaps I'll write more. Or maybe I'll play a video game.

I realized a couple of days ago that I know how to touch-type. I'm not saying that I know how to do it very well, but I'm able. I've never been taught -- typing was one of those high school courses that slipped beneath my radar screen. I learned how to type reasonably quickly during that time under my own direction. I just looked at the keyboard. But now that years have gone by and I've typed so very much, I've found I pretty much know where the keys are. I don't have to really think about it. I move my fingers, watch the screen, and the words are there. Wow.

We've been playing a lot of F-Zero GX. It's a futuristic racing game published by Nintendo for the GameCube. The series started on the Super Nintendo, was updated for the Nintendo 64 and now is ready for a new generation. It's hella fun.

Wednesday, August 27, 2003

Around My Desk...

... At the moment.

A wall clock, notably unattached to a wall.

A bottle of Diet Mountain Dew.

An auto insurance card.

A bottle of insulin.

Two rolls of clear tape.

Two erasers, one gum and other kneaded rubber.

The CD booklet for Beck's Sea Change album.

Monday, August 25, 2003

Do You Realize?

Song by The Flaming Lips

Do you realize
That you have
The most beautiful face?

Do you realize
That we're floating
In space?

Do you realize
That happiness
Makes you cry?

Do you realize
That everyone you know
Someday will die?

And instead of saying all of your goodbyes
Let them know you realize
That time goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun doesn't go down
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round.

Saturday, August 23, 2003

August

We're still stuck in the long, hot eighth month. In Florida, August bites. The temperatures aren't as high as those in my previous home of Kansas, but the humidity here weighs down the air. My clothes stick to my skin. The sun blazes.

And then, nearly every afternoon, it rains. Big, fat raindrops that splat on my windshield as I navigate my way to work. Marshy puddles accumulate in lawns. Mosquitoes swarm. Never mind that in a few months, the temperatures will drop and Florida will be at its most pleasant. For now, I slog.

Friday, August 22, 2003

A Visit to the Dealership

I took my car in today.

The little orange "Service Engine Soon" light came on as I was driving home yesterday evening. After doing a bit of panicking, I checked the ever-reliable web. The consensus was that the light doesn't signify something horrible, but rather suggests politely the car might need a looking-at. Panic subsided.

This morning, however, I brought the car to the friendly neighborhood Saturn dealership. The man in the shop told me I had some sort of leaking hose connected to the vacuum system in the car. Or something like that. It wasn't particularly expensive, in any case.

I realized, though, that the man could have told me anything was wrong with the car. He could have said, "Mr. M, you have a nasty boll-weevil infestation in that engine of yours." And I would have nodded and said, "Make sure you kill those little buggers."

So they killed off the insects, or replaced the hose, or whatever. And thus -- viola! -- no more orange light.

Track List

Here's my track listing of Songs For Dustmites, as randomly generated on Steve's Web Page. (That's Steve Burns, formerly of Blue's Clues. See my earlier entry for more information.)

1 2:57 From the Soundtrack to "Gabe and the Roof"

2 1:20 Noisy, Prime Virion no. 3

3 7:26 Showing the Scientist

4 2:41 The King of the Angry Daisy

5 3:01 A Special Steve Burns

6 3:45 The Last Time You Lick the Mrs. Pepper

7 4:36 The Superstring will Clamp in the Presence of Prime, Trifling Dust Mite

8 8:25 Believing in the Toad

9 8:45 Thinking of the Mail

10 0:04 Madame Entity

11 7:35 The Loving Lithium will Speed in the Presence of Undeserving Beryllium

12 2:05 This Lance Can Truly Control

Thursday, August 21, 2003

The Synonym Finder

Other words for "gaze":

stare
gape
gawk
goggle
stand agog
Inf. rubberneck
ogle
Inf. eye
Inf. eyeball
Inf. give [s.o.] the glad eye
look over
scrutinize
Inf. give the once-over
look at/on/upon
take a look at
Inf. have a look-see

Tuesday, August 19, 2003

What I'm Listening To

Clips from "Songs for Dust Mites," the new CD by Steve Burns.

Who is Steve Burns, you may ask? Why, he's the former host of the kids' show "Blue's Clues." He's now a musician. His first album has been made with the assistance of two-thirds of The Flaming Lips.

Go to his site. Listen. Enjoy. Buy.

Monday, August 18, 2003

It Is Missing

My diary, that is. I've thus been adrift the past week-and-a-half, not able to fill it with notes about the dreary routines that, once assembled, resemble my life.

The pain! The misery!

Sunday, August 17, 2003

Slogan at My Desk

"Tomorrow is Today"

Always good to remember in newspaper work.

Clattering into Action

Net access has been erratic.

I have been putting together shelving.

The s.o. seems to be ill.

The dog, as always, is barking mad.

Friday, August 15, 2003

The Net Returns

Cheers resound round the north Pinellas county city in which I now reside. More as it develops, Dan.

Monday, August 11, 2003

I Drop In

No internet connection at new apartment yet. We survived the move, however, and are enjoying sleep right now. Moving involved three very long days. Once hooked up and with a few minutes to spare, I promise to reveal everything.

I'm still updating Verse A Day, of course.

Keep in touch, people.

Thursday, August 7, 2003

Frantic Moving Day

We're moving today. Things are crazy. Internet access will (of course) be disrupted as our friendly local telecommunications company gets its act together.

The living room is now filled with boxes. In a few hours, we'll make the trek to our new place. That will begin a frenzied rush of item-transferal.

The day after that, I'll be back to work. The S.O. will be callously left to pick up the pieces (sorry!). I'm sure a grand adventure will be had by all.

Watch for updates.

Tuesday, August 5, 2003

The Best Joke Ever

I found this anecdote while cruising around the Web. I've tweaked it a bit, just to be contrary.

Pay special attention to the tale's ins and outs, now. You don't want to miss anything.

The King's Quest

Once upon a time there was a king named King John. He ruled a happy kingdom, because there were no taxes and free beer given out every day.

Everyone was content except for one thing. That thing was that there was not much room to spread out. Everyone's gardens were just a little bit too small. King John was upset about this, for it was the only bad thing in his kingdom. One day, it was a Tuesday, he asked his advisers, "How are we going to solve this problem?" The advisers disappeared off into the pub and came back many hours later and said, "I love you mate, you know that? I do. I really do."

Some time later, when they had sobered up a little they told the king what was to be done. This is what they said. "What you should do, your majesty, is invade the neighboring kingdom, ruled by the evil King *&$#. He is so evil, even his name has to be censored. We should gather an army and go and take some of his land." "That's a wicked idea" said King John, and promptly set up a poster campaign asking for volunteers for his army.

Loads of people were up for this idea, consequently the army was very large. It numbered 1,024 people. After much preparation and training this huge army set off with the King to invade the kingdom of *&$#. It would however take many days to travel all that way, but they did not mind, for the prize was worth it -- more land for all.

At the end of the first day the pitched camp, had a few beers, and some food, and fell asleep. When he awoke the next morning the king was shocked and upset to see that half of his proud army had been killed in the night. Only 512 remained. He was distraught, and ran around shouting for the others to get up. It was then that he saw, away in the distance, just going over the hilltop, a man. He was dressed all in white on a white horse. He had white boats and carried a white flag at the end of his white lance. King John yelled to the white man, but he ignored him. The king pulled himself together and sat down to breakfast. His advisers said, "Don't worry, your majesty. We have more than enough men to defeat King *&$#. We'll continue after breakfast."

So they did. They journeyed all that day and by dusk were very tired, so they didn't have so much beer. The king wasn't taking any chances, so he posted guards around the camp. Then he went to sleep. Next morning he awoke and ran from his tent. "AAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH" he cried. Another half of his men had been killed. Just as they were counting exactly how many had been killed the king noticed the white horseman again. Dressed all in white he was riding away into the sunrise. The king spotted that the white man had totally white hair. The king was a bit annoyed by now, as only 256 remained from his once proud army, but had no choice but to continue on his quest.

They traveled all day and in to the night, so that when the king finally called a halt, the men and he slept straight away. The king woke first and could hear the sound of hooves outside his tent. He burst outside to see the white horseman galloping past his tent. In the horseman's arms there was a white guitar, which the man was playing as he disappeared off into the sun. Upon looking around he found that half of his men were dead. A mere 128 remained.

The king was beside himself with rage, and the remaining men had to restrain him and calm him down. The sat down and came up with a new plan. "We'll have to take the enemy by stealth, as there aren't enough of us to kill them in a fight." His army, now looking small and a little worried, agreed and set off for a day's travel.

They decided to take it easy that day and didn't travel more than about 10 miles. The sun set and they made camp. They ate their rations, which had increased enormously, and settled down to sleep. All night the king was plagued by visions of the white horseman. He woke in a cold sweat just as the sun was rising. He opened his tent door with a sense of trepidation. As he looked around it became clear that half of the remaining men lay dead. The king, almost resigned to defeat, just shrugged. "Come on everyone, we might as well get going. We might be able to defeat King *&$# with 64 men." Just then the white horseman burst out from behind a tent and started galloping away into the east. Once again he was playing his white guitar, and waving his white flag. The king shouted at him to stop, but he didn't even look back.

The army packed up and started their long days march. They stopped just before nightfall and set up camp. As they were all very nervous about going to sleep, because they had seen so many of their friends murdered, they all decided to stay awake. Time passed and one by one they all nodded off. In the morning the king was awoken by the sound of shouting. He ran out of his tent and was met by some of his men. "Half of the men are dead," they said. The king just nodded and gave the order to march. As they were packing up the king saw the white horseman trotting off into the distance. He just waved and started off. All through that day the king tried in vain to think of a new plan which could be accomplished with 32 men. In the end he decided on a competition against the best of King *&$#'s men. The winner would take half of the other's lands.

That night they set up camp in a wood. Because they had had to leave most of their provisions behind (there were not enough people to carry them) they hunted deer to eat. After they had eaten their food they all fell asleep. In the morning the king guessed what was going to happen, and he was right. Half his men lay dead and the white horseman was galloping off into the sunrise. As he galloped he was throwing white rose petals from a white bag and scattering them behind him.

The king looked at his 16 men. "Well, we've come too far just to turn around and go back. We might as well try," he said. His men agreed and set off towards the *&$# kingdom. King John was going a little crazy in the head at this point. More than a thousand of his men had been killed while they slept, and he could do nothing about it. "Not tonight," the king said to himself.

That evening they stopped a little earlier and built a tall fence around the camp. They put spikes on top of the fence and went to sleep. In the morning the king woke and burst from his tent. He was eager to see if his plan had succeeded.

Alas, it had not. Half the men were dead and there was a large hole in the fence. Peering through the hole the king saw the white horseman riding away. He was distraught. The 8 remaining men comforted him. "Maybe we can ask King *&$# for a treaty. Then we can share lands," they told the king. The king would not listen and gave the order to pack up and march.

They rode fast all day and had covered 50 miles by nightfall. The king said nothing as he lay down to sleep. The men decided that half of them would remain awake and stand guard. They drew straws and settled down for a long night. In the morning the king woke up, stretched, and had a coffee before leaving his tent. He opened the tent flap cautiously and peered about. Four men remained alive. The others (the ones who had been on guard) were all dead. The king yelled as the white horseman rode past on his white horse, waving his white flag, playing his white guitar and scattering his white rose petals. The 4 men packed up what few possessions they could carry and set off.

All that day the king sat on his horse and laughed to himself. When they eventually reached a place to camp they were very tired. They had been riding for days, they were hungry, thirsty and had seen many friends killed in their sleep. They sank down onto the ground and slept. "Oh. What a surprise," was the king's sarcastic exclamation in the morning. "Half my men are dead. Only 2 remain. And there goes the white horseman off into the sunrise."

He and his two men, Alan and Nala, set off. They were nearly at their destination, so they could not stop now. They rode and chatted about this and that. The king seemed in a very jovial mood. Alan and Nala thought that he was all right until he jumped off his horse and started attacking a tree because it was "looking at him funny." They thought that was a good time to stop for the night. They pitched their tents, one for the king and one for the two men, and slept a peaceful night.

In the morning the king went outside and poked his head into the men's tent. One of them, Nala, was dead. He woke Alan and started looking about for the now familiar white horseman. He saw him just mounting his horse and ran after him. The king could not catch up with him, and came back to camp. He and Alan were one days march away from the castle of King *&$#, so they polished their armor and sharpened their swords. Then they rode off towards the castle. Near evening they saw the castle. It was huge and dark. They felt a little foolish turning up with the smallest army ever to try to take over this mighty army, but they could not travel home without trying so they pitched a tent and waited for morning.

When the sun rose the king awoke to find that his last man had been killed. 1024 of his men had been killed while they slept. The king burst out of his tent. He was confronted with the white horseman. His clothes were white, his hair and beard were white, he carried a white guitar, and there were white rose petals scattered on the ground by his feet. The white man looked a little worried and edged slowly towards his white horse.

"Have you been killing all my men while they've been asleep?" asked King John.

"No," replied the man.

Altavista, Baby

Here is Will's entry from yesterday, translated back into English from Korean. Thanks to the almighty Babelfish translation program at Altavista for making this possible.

Anyone it hangs quite but it does not mean

To go out, when it talks, "it cold in inside from here," that position the meaning is sun the heirloom wears out quite saltily with the enemy, it talks more, "it is cold"? Yet it is a cold and a right? -- "Ohio, me in my attention that quite you who are happy it brings, will." Under -- but your line luck be. It spreads out. Referred to a rank is quibbling coldness or happy? }perhaps{. When "quite" quite being the L it will be necessary, when you will be able to think freedom lop to hour but, the impression which uses it. That le or it hangs anyone but not meaning, under extensive language there is I.

Monday, August 4, 2003

While We're Talking About Newspapering

Will A. tackles a pet peeve of mine at his copy editing blog. Take it away, man.

'VERY' DOESN'T MEAN ANYTHING

If I say, "It's very cold in here," does that really mean more than saying, "It's cold"?

It's still cold, right? -- "Oh, I'm very happy you brought that to my attention, Will." -- But you are happy. You are not sad.

Is this quibbling about degrees of coldness or happiness? Perhaps. But if you can think of a time when "very" is very necessary, feel free to use it. But, I'm telling you, it doesn't mean anything.

Repeat Headline

A newspaper consultant mentioned this point in a workshop I attended a couple of weeks ago. I think it's a good one for people who work with words to remember.

Just because someone else has said the same thing doesn't mean it's not worth saying.

This was applied specifically to headlines in the workshop. If many newspapers use the same headline -- or a very similar one -- that doesn't automatically mean the headline is bad. Many will invoke the copy editing monster of "cliche."

We should avoid cliches. I agree. But they are ultimately part of our language, part of the day-to-day discourse of millions of people. When push comes to shove, then, we shouldn't act like robots. Take it on a case-by-case basis. (And yes, I realize there were two cliches in this paragraph. So what.)

Thus, "Thanks for the Memories" as a headline for Bob Hope's obituary is not necessarily a bad headline. Yes, the phrase is a cliche. Yes, lots and lots and lots and lots of newspapers used it. But I bet many readers liked it. I doubt a significant number looked at A1 and said "Too bad my newspaper is so unoriginal."

Sometimes, I realize, I sound flippant about editing matters. I take this seriously. We should watch and know every time a significant cliche is used in a story or a headline. We should have an excellent reason to use it. But if the reason exists, if the cliche (or its brother, the "obvious" headline) is apt, run the headline.

We have nothing to be ashamed of.

Saturday, August 2, 2003

Mistah Dylan Sez

A random excerpt from "Down the Highway: The Life of Bob Dylan" by Howard Sounes.

"Sloan was duly summoned to the Hollywood Sunset Hotel where Bob played him acetates of Highway 61 Revisited. Sloan rolled about on the floor laughing when he heard 'Ballad of a Thin Man.' Bob laughed too. He slapped his knees as if it was the biggest joke in the world. Then he said, seriously, 'I gotta big problem here. Columbia records doesn't any idea what this song is about. They think it's communistic.' " (189-190)

The rest of the anecdote is really good, but it would be way tedious to type it all out.

Buy the book here.

Already August 2? Darn!

I'm working longish shifts this week and am preparing to move. Thus, the updating has been sparse.

Am listening to the soundtrack of Bob Dylan's new movie, "Masked and Anonymous." A lot of fun stuff on it -- four live takes from Mr. Dylan, a smattering of foreign-language cover versions, and some other interestingly skewed covers.

Friday, August 1, 2003

A Big Hello to August!

I hear it's the eighth month, you know.