He's a bit dotty

I remember a cartoon strip called Tiger. That was the kids name. (This was long before Calvin & Hobbes.) Tiger had a dog. The great thing about the dog was its name.


The dog's name was Stripe. (This was long before Sting.)

The great thing about the dog's name was that it allowed a certain kind of humour... no -- a certain sensibility -- to erupt on an otherwise po-faced nation. Okay, so it didn't afflict the whole nation all at once in some transcendent moment of catharsis. The nation had already had several of those, and wasn't really paying attention anymore. (This was long after Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin, and the Katzenjammer Kids.) So maybe it affected me more than it affected the nation. But it certainly shaped my view of the nation - or whatever it is that kids live in; that place of shared comic strips, candy aisles, television adverts, heroic figures and postcards of monumental places. Stripe was a national figure, which meant that whatever Stripe stood for was a national thing, not just the screwy idea of some kid on a hillside.


The great thing about Stripe was that that's exactly was he was not. Stripe was a spotted dog. That dog realised a Zen-like absurdity unattained by any slapstick anti-hero or child punk. What Stripe did - and I'm sure it was intentional - was authorise the practice of naming things in direct contrast to their appearance. So when my brother Larry got a Black Labrador puppy and was searching for a name, I suggested he call the dog Spot.


A good thing about my brother is that he appreciated the humor. He called the dog Ralph. As in the verb to Ralph.


OK, so you aren't rolling on the floor laughing. I'll get over it. Maybe I should tell you about Pogo, and his method of counting days. He said: 'Friday the 13th falls on a Tuesday this month'. I think that this was his way of saying 'If this is Tuesday, it must be Denmark', or vice versa.


Same logic. OK?


Once upon a time I knew a woman named Carol. Parenthetically, I've known several women named Carol, and they alternated with women named Laurie or Lori or Laura. Once upon a time was around 1980. That's how Richard Brautigan would have explained it, had he lived to tell the tale.


But this is not a Brautigan tale, even though, just as Van Morrison wanted to do the things that only Ray Charles could do, I wanted, at one point, to do what only Brautigan has done.


Carol did her first degree in mathematics at the University of Chicago. She was from the wrong side of the tracks in Mamaroneck, New York, when that sort of thing mattered. So she went to Chicago and studied math. As one does. She followed that with a Master's degree in programming. Then, inexplicably (and she has done any number of inexplicable things), she decided to get an Associate's Degree in electronic engineering at Portland Community College, and that is where fate had us meet, next to a woman named Susan.


I'm not sure if Susan ever had a favorite joke. I'll have to ask next time I talk with her. So here is Carol's favorite joke:


What is the difference between a house and a mouse?


Should I wait a minute, for effect? Okay. Let's wait.


Ready for the answer?


Okay, here it is:


Both of them don't ride bicycles!

...

...


Killer, eh?

It's that good.


It doesn't get much more sophisticated than that.

I'll Pass

This is not the hilarious story it could be, but maybe it will prompt someone else into having the experience.
Someone visting my website liked what he saw, and wrote to me. He also happened to be planning a trip to England, and suggested meeting. He was on an extrreme budget, and decided to take the coach (that's bus to you stay-at-home Yanks) from Manchester to here. I told him I'd meet him at the bus stop outside the coach station.

Well, as it turns out, I'm a bit late in getting there. His coach has come and gone, but he's nowhere in sight. I walk around looking for him, asking various staff if a German guy has asked about bus stops. No one has seen him. So I walk to the plaza up the road, look around, and come back. This is no longer about missing each otehr by a few minutes and hanging out somewhere for a little while. I wonder if he even got off the coach. Maybe he's gone to some other town. Maybe he hates hanging around and just took off. I go back and ask for a piece of paper, a piece of tape, and a marker. I want to make a sign, but I can't think of what to write, aside from his name. Then he shows up.

BLOOG ROT

One of my clever readers will eventually suss this.


BLOG ROOT -

BLOT GOOR -

B.L.T. OR GOO -

BOG LOOTR -

BOG ORLOT -

BOLT OR GO -

BORG LOOT -

BORG TOOL -

BROT LOGO -

GLOB ROOT -

GOB LOTOR -

LOB GO ROT -

LOB GROOT -

LOB OR TOG -

LOG TO ORB -

ORB GO LOT -

ORB GOT LO -

ROB GOT LO -

ROB TO GLO -

ROB TO LOG -

ROBOT LOG -


But is there a prize involved?

Depends on what you have in mind.

I like this color set - think I may try it here.  

This figure is carved into a slope near the banks of the ancient river Rea, in the mountains of north Warwickshire. Seen from a distance it looks remarkably like a bicycle. 

This is a mysterious non-place place. The path leads to it, but there's not much to see once you get there. 

These have to be the two best and most pointless bridges in the area. I really like the broken one in the foreground. It's a drawbridge, or an artistic statement about getting from here to there. Or from nowhere to nowhere else. 

Autumn is on its way. 

Leaves are starting to gather on the pavements. 

Birmingham has its own Black Rock desert. This is a pretty normal scene.

This is what I called a Barbican the other day. I'll bet it has another name. It's the entrance to a churchyard. Many churches have them.  

 

Bloto-Rog

Bloto-rog? Blotto-Rag? Nevermind.



You'll have noticed that I'm finagling with the colors and layout here. As ever, I'm averse to consuming things straight from the can. I want some finishing touches of my own. My motto should be 'Never Leave Well Enough Alone'. So I downloaded some templates and have been monkeying with the guts of one called photolog. I'm not done yet. I like this one because it's uncluttered and the text area is wider than the others. But it doesn't have any paragraph formatting. Which is why all the lines run together. I have to separate them manually with line break commands. That will have to change. And there are no Post Titles. I'll either teach myself to do it, or find another template.



I am also into playing with the colors. I also want an image covering part of the background. So, tell me about stuff. Are the colors wrong? Too bright? Font too big?

Saw Nose 

I Have A Saw

I have a saw. I found it after some renovation work had been done on the flat upstairs. It's not much of a saw, but it looks good. I already have several other saws, and this one, being somewhat beat up already, was not something I needed as an addition to my tool set. So I used it to cut a brick. It worked. Once. As you can see, the back teeth have disappeared. Since it has no immediate value as a tool, I might as well make art with it. So now I let it sit in the rain and develop character. A photo or two later and, voila! It's art!



Back

Vintage Brew 

It's good. 

Nothing to Say - Kill Banner Ads

Today I went down to the Black Patch and walked around for six hours. The police had taped off part of the Park with blue and white Crimestoppers ribbon. There was a murder in Oldbury last night, so maybe the gun ended up in the Black Patch. I didn't ask. Maybe it was about something else.



I would like a beer - or some sort of alcohol. I have a beer. It's a bottle of Anchor Steam Christmas Ale from 2000. I've had it in my fridge for 4 years. I don't know what I'm waiting for - but I'm not gonna drink it until I have a good reason. I also have a bottle of Allen's Ginger Brandy. There's one sip left. The alcohol has probably gone out of it by now. But there's no place here to get more of either.



I don't recall where I got the bottle of Anchor Steam, but I do recall buying several bottles in Sebastopol in the early 90s, which I kept for a few years before drinking - it may have improved with age - it certainly didn't suffer for it. So I've got this here bottle, and I look at it every once in a while and wonder what I'm going to do with it.



The Ginger Brandy is a different matter. I bought it in the liquor shop at Porter Square last time I was in Boston. I've been sipping it every once in a while - and it's down to the last half-shot or so. I gave the second-to-last shot to my friend Barbara, who is of West Indian extraction, and appreciates things like this. So I've been letting it sit. Again, wondering when I'm gonna finish it off. Probably when I have some prospect of getting more.



Neither of those brands is available here. One could conclude that Brits are incredibly provincial when it comes to food, drink, and clothing. The same old shit will do every time. I was shocked to see a bottle of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale here once. I have yet to see any number of even the UK beers that are available in the US: Belhaven Ale, Old Thumper, Young's Barley Wine. All things I could get in that big liquor store on Comm Ave in Allston, but have yet to see anywhere in the UK. They make these things for export, apparently. Plus, I've never seen some of the more interesting things like Xingu, Sierra Nevada Porter, a really nice wheat beer from North Dakota, and so on. Stupid, really.



Okay, so there European beers, and wine from around the world.The beer aficionados probably get their entertainment at beer festivals. I haven't been to any. I've been to a Bavarian beer festival, but that's a different thing entirely. Brit beer festivals are held in conference venues - big white marquees, indoor arenas, the like. Just like any other gig.



I could go down to the shop and get myself a nice Ruby ale - if I could get there before 11:00. But I'm not going to. Maybe I'll pick up some pilsener when I got get groceries. But for now, I've got no booze, and don't feel like going out in search of any.



I'll sit here with my vintage Anchor Steam and my last sip of Allen's. I'm not drinking either. I decided to have a cup of ginger tea instead.



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