Piece by Piece- AQS and Alzheimers

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In the last month I've been to the original Hancock Fabrics, in Paducah, KY, and spent the night in one of the very first Howard Johnson's, in Asheville, NC. Dear Lord, I ought to be at least 70.

Surprisingly not, though. Not the point.

The Point?

Spent the day with DB (Darling Bride) and a couple of friends, trying not to get run over by overzealous quilters with sharp needles at the American Quilter's Society Annual Show in Paducah, KY. The trip was a birthday present for DB. (Holy crap, you wouldn't believe how old she is. Oh wait... so'm I. Forget I said anything.)

There were, as always, some beautiful quilts on display. Hundreds after hundreds of them. A huge ballroom full. Another huge conference room full. But the most powerful stuff on display was on the far side of the convention center, in an out of the way display area. Quilts made for and dedicated to the fight against Alzheimer's.

Quilt's like this:

Losing My Mind A Piece At A Time
37 1/2" x 58"

by Jannett Caldwell
Avondale, PA

Click on the picture to learn more.

First, this display should have been front and center, not off in a side room three football field's walk away. I kid you not, there were elderly women in every chair in every hallway, resting from the journey. Half of 'em were asleep.

Second, These quilts are everything this American art form can be: art, history, social commentary, family memories ... did I mention Art, (big A)?

You can learn more here.

Want to own a piece of art that actually IS trying to change the world? Go here.

What happens on the Internet....

--Soapbox alert--

What happens in Vegas only stays in Vegas if you were the only one there when it happened, but what happens on the Internet stays on the Internet... maybe forever.

Don't believe me? Google Vanessa Williams and Playboy. Or, e-mail Alec Baldwin in a couple months... or years.

Or, visit the Wayback Machine (Why, that's keen Mr. Peabody!)

Now, to hammer it home one more time. Take 75 seconds and watch this

Maybe show it to every teenager and "joe internet user" who hasn't seen it yet.

--soapbox put away now, thanks. --

Ironically enough, the Circle of Life does not belong at the dinner table.

Been watching Planet Earth?

Not a lot of TV gets watched around our house, but this we've made time for. Beautiful images, some interesting information. And lots of things eating other things.

It's as if something eating something else is scripted into the schedule. (OK, coming up on four minutes with the pretty seals, Cue tape two, bring on the sharks.)

So much so that, the catch phrase for the show at my house has become:

"Hey, that's a cute little fella. What's gonna eat it?"

Abstinence makes the umm, "heart" grow fonder

From USATODAY today:


"STUDY: Abstinence classes don't stop sex"

And, inside the story, this:

"The students who participated in abstinence education did so for one to three years. Their average age was 11 to 12 when they entered the programs back in 1999."


So, at least a recordable percentage of these kids had sex WHILE enrolled in the abstinence classes?

insert your joke here

This just in:


Nestle is buying Gerber Baby Food . (The company, not mashed carrots and green beans, silly.)

Ooooh Chocolate Strained Peas!!!

What interested me was that Gerber's previous owner was a drug company -- Novartis.

What, we can't grow healthy kids through chemistry, so we're going back to chocolate?

Wait.. sign me up.

Acoustic Kitty never turned 40

Darn it, I missed it!

The 40th anniversary of the CIA's "Acoustic Kitty" project was last month.

Apparently, back in March of '67 The CIA got the idea to surgically insert microphones and transmitters into trained cats, with the idea that they would walk around the parks and neighborhoods of subversive characters and "listen in".

This from an old Guardian article:

"Having wired their first trained cat for sound, they released it near a park with strict orders to eavesdrop on two men on a bench,"

Alas, within just a few steps, the cat was run over by a taxi.

I'd say their first mistake was thinking they could train cats.

The end is near

Sunday marks the end of the chocolate season.

I wrote about this awhile back.

Happy Easter, anyway!


And then, there's this:



If you want one, you can get it from cafepress.com.







And, lest we forget, Peeps in Peril. These guys really know how to handle their Peeps.

Technology and the Real World

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Real World Uses of Technology

It's 1 A.M.

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You're drunk.

You're in a bar full of drunks, several of whom are helping you sing along with the band, into your cell phone, at the top of their lungs.

You are singing to someone who, 5 minutes ago, was blissfully dreaming of a lovely, quiet, isolated paradise, probably including a beach, blue water, and nubile, willing beauties of the sex of their choice.

And yet, this is going to turn out to be the single most important phone call you are going to make tonight.

Because an hour from now you are going to be calling this same person, looking for bail money.

Teach Your Children... well?

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You know those guys you get behind in the 10 items or less lane? The ones with their kids with them, and they tell their 8 year old "Here, you take these 8 things, and your little brother can take these 6. And Daddy will take these 10, and we're all ok..."?

Ran into another one of those the other day. I hear he's getting his "Handicapped" tag for his mirror next week.

Thus it is written, So shall it be. Mulch 2 for $3.

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Let me first kiss up by saying that, of the limited choices we have here in "just east of the sticks, Sillynois" Kroger is my choice of grocery store.

We also have a super-megalomaniac-mart that I'd rather take a beating than go visit. Between them and the big blue K, they drove the local grocers out of business. (I'm sorry, I tried to prevent it. I can only buy so many cases of canned beets and cat food.)

There is also a small "stuff that fell off a truck on the interstate and we brought the boxes in here" store that sells celery and lettuce right next to motor oil and electronics from companies like Sany and Pennysonic (NOT typos).

So, Kroger gets most of my grocery dollars. That being said....

Just inside the front door is the store pledge. We pledge to be good local citizens and provide quality, convenient yada yada yada....

But it ends with "Thus it is written, So Shall It Be."

Just what book of the Bible is Kroger in? I don't know, maybe they have their own. Maybe the order is actually Joshua Judges Ruth and today's Pastries... (or maybe they're in the ganoche-tic bible?)

Another thing. They sell mulch and fertilizer by the front door, like it's an impulse item. (Got me a hot date, let's see... I need me some Certs, some condoms, and hey, we're gonna want some mulch!)

I don't know, maybe they think that folks here in farming country always have manure on our minds.

"Wooo boy, I done loaded up on groceries this time. I'm gonna eat good and poo for a week. Hey, that reminds me....."

???

From the mind of William Shatner???

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SCI-FI channel is advertising something called Fire Serpent. Some kind of flaming alien comes to earth thing.

Here's the fun part: It's being advertised as coming "From the mind of William Shatner."

My first thought was "Hey, Look. And it isn't even sticky!"

The second thought was "what the heck is that supposed to mean?" Does it mean that William Shatner actually thought of this and told somebody, "Hey how about an alien made of fire that comes to Earth? Maybe we could even blame them for global warming?"

Or does it mean that he said, "Hey, you guys come up with something that'll make the air and then pay me to put my name next to it?"

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm a big fan. I think the way he's re-invented himself is nothing short of remarkable. Seriously. I've never done anything as successful or largely loved as he has.

Instead I think it is sadly, more likely, that some marketing dweeb thought that this little tag line would help add some last minute credibility to the project.

The website doesn't tell us anything. And doesn't mention Mr. Shatner.

I notice that IMDB doesn't give him a credit, though. Bummer.

We are a weird species.

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This weekend more than a quarter million people have driven to Daytona, Florida. Spectators have arrived from all over the world, travelling in tens of thousands of vehicles: by car, by jet, by ship and boat and train, in order to watch 43 cars drive 500 miles in a circle, just as fast as they can go.

Several thousand folks more are involved in maintaining, supporting or reporting on, those 43 cars (44 if you count the pace car) and untold numbers of tow, media and other support vehicles.

And what do you figure? Somewhere along the drive there and/or back, 1 in 3?, 2 in 3?, WILL bitch about the price of gas?

We are a weird species.

BTW, average price of a gallon of gas in the United States today? $2.27

The third season of chocolate.

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Any true chocoholic knows that chocolate is seasonal.

The best season is Easter, with Christmas and Valentine's Day in the place and show positions.

First off, Easter is guilt free chocolate. If you're a Christian you have an entire holiday telling you that someone already paid the bill. Eat until you croak. Heaven awaits. And if you're not a Christian, then gluttony isn't a sin anyway. Dive in.

And besides, you get to go all "Ozzy" and bite the head off a rabbit.

Christmas is second because there is a larger variety of chocolaty goodness out there than there is on V-Day. But let's face it, biting the head off of Santa is just asking for it.

Valentines Day has to come in third. Sure, there's an abundance of chocolate, but there's also an over-abundance of those sneaky cream filled buggers. Who decided this was a good idea? And, if you didn't get chocolate from someone else, you have that "I'm standing in line, buying my own freaking valentine." thing going on.

They don't even have a chocolate Cupid to go after. Santa must have warned him or something....

You don't have the stones...

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Always thought that phrase was some kind of challenge. Turns out it's a blessing. (My thanks for all the kind thoughts and words.)

"I don't need to see you again for six months or so...." the nice Urologist said. Of course, this was shortly after he had his finger up my bum. (I feel so used.)

But, no more stones. Oh, and no, I didn't get to keep the beasties I passed. They got sent off to "the lab". Probably some weird candlelit crypt where drug reps gather around them and invoke spells to increase their customer base.

I was at a restaurant/sports bar in town a couple weeks ago. Some drug rep had just left about fifty product pens on the bar for bartenders/waitresses to hand out. I don't think they understood that it was for a heartburn drug.

I took two and ordered the barbecue.

Mom never told me there'd be days like this.

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Waking up next to naked in a sterile room with a guy that you recognize as the county coroner, and he has his hands on your balls. Just what is the proper etiquette for this one, Miss Manners?

It's a small town. The county coroner also pulls a regular shift at the hospital emergency room. (At least he's not the town mortician, now that would REALLY be a conflict of interest.)

Turns out that I have kidney stones. That, as of this typing, I haven't passed yet.

24 hours or so ago I thought I was going to die. An hour or so after that I was afraid I was never going to die.

Now, every woman I've come into contact with has said the same thing: "They say that passing a kidney stone is as close as a man can come to experiencing the pain of childbirth." Up until now I was convinced that women were the smarter side of the species. Now I'm thinking that may well be a load of crap.

There's not a guy on the planet that would intentionally go through this pain , ever. Any woman willing to go through this kind of excruciating pain a second time (third, fourth!!!) is far too insane to be allowed to breed.

While I'm waiting for this miniscule (millimeters in size, I'm told) "stone" to pass, they have me on some of the most wonderful drugs. I'm thinking that, if I can continue to tell them that I haven't passed the stone yet, I can keep myself in la-la land until after the next election. (George who???)

Sex vs. slacks?

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NEW YORK, Feb 5 (Reuters Life!) - For most women, the choice between sex and a new wardrobe is simple -- they go for the clothes.

Women on average say they would be willing to give up sex for 15 months for a closet full of new apparel, with 2 percent ready to abstain from sex for three years in exchange for new duds, according to a new survey of about 1,000 women in 10 U.S. cities.

Well that's just silly. What guy's going to pay a girl to NOT have sex with him?

"I... I'll buy you anything. New shoes... I'll buy you new shoes if you'll just NOT touch me right.. right...THERE. Ooohhh, yeah."

Excuse me. I need to get a towel... and my Sears card.


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OK, I had to come back and add to this after something was brought to my attention.

If I could PICK who the girl was? You betcha. If I could make the deal that my darling daughter didn't have sex with ANYONE for 15 months? I'd be a check writin' fool. I am in absolutely no hurry to be a grandparent. (I just want to get her through college.)

The Las Vegas Convention & Visitor's people are wimps!

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OK, not really. They are probably all very nice people.

Point is, how hard do they really have to work to get your business? When you think of doing something touristy, most folks naturally wander through a list of locations like Las Vegas, Hawaii, Florida, Paris, yada, yada, yada. Do they really need a heavily staffed tourism and convention bureau?

And then there's Nome, Alaska. The Nome Visitor's Center. These folks have to work HARD for your money.

Thought I'd help out with some catchy new slogans:

"There's No Place Like Nome."

"Beat the rush. Mush."

"You'll come for the snow, but you'll stay for the ice."

OR..., "If it's your last night on earth, don't you want it to last all year?"

Funny thing is, if you click on the link? One of these is real.

I've lost the remote and I don't care.

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I lost the TV remote, so I can't change channels. But it doesn't matter. It's on the Tube Channel.

I can count the number of things on TV that I would readily endorse on one hand; two hands, but folks would think I was flipping them off.

But I love me some Tube Channel!

Remember when MTV was good? That's the Tube Channel.

No VJ's. No "reality shows". No BS. Just music videos. Videos from artists from now to then and back again. It apparently is the creative child of Les Garland, one of the founders of the original MTV.

Don't get TubeTV where you are? I am sooo sorry.

I'm reminded of the old radio slogan: "Can't hear us from where you are? Move, baby!"

Oh, for those who are about to rattle their keyboards at me and tell me to get off my fat couch and go change it manually? I can't. The buttons are broken. They were the innocent bystanders of a thrown book. I came in and Bill O'Reilly was on the TV and it startled me. Bugs said it best: "What a maroon!"

Drop a Dime, Free this guy's blog

A blogger in Illinois, lonetreeontheprairie, is holding his blog for ransom, for a good cause, Special Olympics. I didn't think of it first; wish I had. (Probably just as well since his gets a lot more viewing than this one does.)

So, I'll send you his way, in hopes that you drop a bit of change his way, for the athletes in Illinois.

Selah!