Archive for December, 2007


(Squirrel is a Jazz title. I looked it up.

After the latest 8″ blizzard, I went out back to fill the birdfeeders. I had filled the thistle seed feeders that the finches love so much and was reaching up to hang them when the large birdfeeder began to shake and chatter at me. A squirrel popped its head out of the hole it had chewed at the top of the feeder to get in, and just scolded the dickens out of me. I got mad, because he’d eaten all the nice black oil sunflower seed that the cardinals love, so I yelled back at him “you little piggy, now you’re stuck in there and maybe you’ll think twice before stealing all the food!” After I’d yelled for a while, I began to wonder if my neighbors thought I was in the back yard dressing down my children for snacking or something, and I also wanted a photo op with the trapped trespasser, so I went to the house to get Scott to shoot a photo. When I got back to the feeder, the squirrel had gone, but Scott got evidence of me attempting to free the furry barsted of his self-imposed prison. It was an unexpected and funny experience during a mundane activity and I felt I needed to share.


I will now leave you with a few words from the very enlightened Ray Stevens, whom Scott was quoting just last week:

Well, when I was a kid I’d take a trip every summer down the Mississippi
To visit my granny in her antebellum world
I’d run barefooted all day long climbin’ trees free as a song
And one day I happened to catch myself a squirrel
Well, I stuffed him down in an old shoe box, punched a couple of holes in the top
And when Sunday came I snuck him into Church
I was sittin’ way back in the very last pew showin’ him to my good buddy Hugh
When that squirrel got loose and went totally berserk
Well, what happened next is hard to tell
Some thought it was heaven others thought it was hell
But the fact that something was among us was plain to see
As the choir sang “I Surrender All” the squirrel ran up Harv Newlan’s coveralls
Harv leaped to his feet and said, “Somethin’s got a hold on me”, Yeow!


The day the squirrel went berserk
In the First Self-Righteous Church


In the sleepy little town of Pascagoula
It was a fight for survival that broke out in revival
They were jumpin’ pews and shoutin’ Hallelujah!

Well, Harv hit the aisles dancin’ and screamin’
Some thought he had religion others thought he had a demon
And Harv thought he had a weed eater loose in his Fruit-Of-The-Looms
He fell to his knees to plead and beg and the squirrel ran out of his britches leg
Unobserved to the other side of the room
All the way down to the amen pew where sat Sister Bertha better-than-you
Who’d been watchin’ all the commotion with sadistic glee
But you should’ve seen the look in her eyes
When that squirrel jumped her garters and crossed her thighs
She jumped to her feet and said “Lord have mercy on me”
As the squirrel made laps inside her dress
She began to cry and then to confess to sins that would make a sailor blush with shame
She told of gossip and church dissension but the thing that got the most attention
Was when she talked about her love life and then she started naming names


The day the squirrel went berserk
In the First Self-Righteous Church
In that sleepy little town of Pascagoula
It was a fight for survival that broke out in revival
They were jumpin’ pews and shoutin’ Hallelujah!
Well seven deacons and the pastor got saved,
Twenty-five thousand dollars was raised and fifty volunteered
For missions in the Congo on the spot
Even without an invitation there were at least five hundred rededications
And we all got baptized whether we needed it or not
Now you’ve heard the bible story I guess
How he parted the waters for Moses to pass
Oh the miracles God has wrought in this old world
But the one I’ll remember ’til my dyin’ day
Is how he put that Church back on the narrow way
With a half crazed Mississippi squirrel


The day the squirrel went berserk
In the First Self-Righteous Church
In the sleepy little town of Pascagoula
It was a fight for survival that broke out in revival
They was jumpin’ pews and shoutin’ Hallelujah!


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Dem Dere Eyes…

Rogue Hoodie Mark II just moments after completion.

…Match this sweater. Ah, I love green.

(not that you could tell from the colors on this site or anything)

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I’ve got you under my skin…

So I was flipping through Ebay, looking at various things, and came across a custom made set of wedding rings that look *exactly* like The One Ring from Lord of the Rings. At first, I thought that was sort of a cool, if fanboyish, kind of a thing to do. Then, the more I thought about it, the creepier it seemed. Sort of like playing “Every breath you take” for a wedding reception. Cool at first, then creepy after you give it a little thought. I could see wearing a ring like that to express one’s love of the books or movies or (as it really should be) the incredible propsmasters who populated the movies with believable and unique jewelry, clothing, etc. I don’t so much imagine it would be cool to express the sentiment intimated by the One Ring towards one’s spouse. The idea that you love something so much you must possess it at all costs is not a concept which should be applied to marriage. That being said, I still bid on one, because how cool a thumb ring would that be! If, of course, you could keep Gollum from biting your thumb off to get at it. I got outbid, by someone who apparently wanted both rings, to help him lock up his “Precious”. Ah well, I wish them the best of luck.

After the auction ended, I decided to find out exactly how “unique” an idea it was to get married with The One Ring. Shock and surprise, it’s apparently quite the thing to do, for those who have the money and the inclination. And for those with the inclination but not the money, there’s quite a business in cut-rate cheap metal versions. I may scoff, but truth be told, if the movies had existed when we got married, I would have had my silver circlet made to match the Elvish ones. As it was, it was still cool. I should get a photo and put it up here. Finding it will be the tricky bit. It’s around somewhere, though. Ten years and change tends to make things get kinda put up on shelves and stored, rather than being out in the front and easy to find. The story behind the circlet is actually pretty cool. I was in a Jazz History class with a friend of mine (also an Art major type), who happened to be a jeweler on the side. He’s a chemist, but has a talent for metalworking. He took Jazz History because it was a “Magic Bullet” class (satisfied several requirements for graduation – nonwestern studies, minority studies, and social studies, if memory serves). He had never played an instrument, and when we started the class, he could not tell the difference between a clarinet and a trumpet (or a Bass, for that matter), while listening to a recording. We worked out a trade, where I tutored him, and he charged me just for the cost of the materials of the circlet (silver wire and peridot stones). It was damn spiffy. I need to find it, or a photo of me wearing it (which realistically would be cooler anyway).

And I am going to try to make the Jazz titles work as long as I possibly can.

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Once more, with feeling.

This will make my third attempt at keeping a Blog and updating it more than once or twice yearly. I always mean to do it more, but somehow things get in the way. So perhaps this time it’ll stick, like a new year’s resolution pinky-sworn with a hint of the bittersweet at blog posts unposted.

I think I’ll give it a shot.

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