Singing a quartet at the BestFest last week

Yes, I know that Larry, Ray, and me only make 3. But with Ray on the melody of the jazz barbershop quartet, "This is the Army Mr. Jones,"  Larry and I managed to vocally cover the other 3 parts between us. We're THAT good. And it actually sounded kickass. Not bad for a song we haven't sung for 20 years. Much better than the Hogan's Heroes guys in that clip....

Cool little online thingamajig

Using mouse or arrow keys, this zooms the scale level from the Planck length/quantum foam at the small end, to the size of the observable universe at the big end. Very cool.  And personally diminishing, perspective-wise.

I had thought my "Poem for Los Angeles" had sent yesterday, but I guess not....

So, a day late and not really worth the wait...

Stuck, stuck at LAX
With creatures of most every sex
There's freaks n geeks n what-the-hecks?
When you bide your time at LAX.

I realize I am not the most practical of fellows

But something about this new building just seems a little...off.

Farmer's Market, Riverside, CA

Yum! Hummus and Honey and Veggies and Bread!
Jellies and Lettuce as Big as your Head!

The trouble with being a sensitive, left-wing sort

...of which I occasionally am one --although 'sensitive' might be replaced by 'prickly' in my case. Or just 'prick' maybe.  Anyway, out front of Metro Center yesterday were pretty girls wearing fur coats in cages to protest the evil and unnatural wearing of fur. Although I think their grasp of 'unnatural' is a bit tenuous.  However, the nobility of their sacrifice and the crystal clear expression of their empathetic viewpoint is utterly lost because the reality of the situation is that any 20-30(-40?-50?-60?) year-old male who emerges from the metro is captivated by their display, yes. But do they see dedicated souls striving for the betterment of their beasty brethren? No. They see hot chicks in cages. "YEAH!  CHECK DAT SHIT OUT!  Look at this, Fred, chicks in cages! Man, cell phone pics....cell phone pics...hold still chicks! Quit whining about animals. Can you bare your teeth a little like you're mad cause you're in a cage and can't have sex with me right now? Yeah...that's the look. Oh baby.  Yeah. You want it, don't ya.  TONY! GET UP HERE! CHICKS IN CAGES! Man. I wish I had a chick in a cage. Hey, girlie, you look pretty hot in that fur coat, whyn't you slip that off....HOLD STILL!"

Yeah. Young women activists have a hard row to hoe. 

Brian Best

I think I mentioned that my old pal, Brian, Gary's little brother, a stellar guy and someone I actually double-dated with before I got married, is semi-riddled with stage IV lung cancer that has moved all over, even up unto his brain.  We all got together and threw an event in his honor yesterday.  We did it in Columbia, at a private school. What was not realized was that in official buildings with computerized a/c and whatnot, the air conditioning is not able to be turned on on the weekend. So we did the event in a room that was about 90 degrees, and more like 110 on stage under the lights.  I was the MC and had to spend most of the day on the hot stage. So when you look at this picture and see one smooth, cool, together-looking guy and one quasi-demolished, bleary, wasted, spent guy looking on the absolute verge of death...uh, reverse those. I am actually fine, despite my near-funereal appearance. And Brian is much less than fine, despite his dapper front.

Interesting side note: the US Open was today (golf) and Brian mentioned that and one thing led to another and it turns out that Brian is a scratch golfer (translation: so good, he doesn't have a handicap when he plays officially) and loves to teach people to play.  He is --literally-- dying to teach me how to play right. He claims it is one of the things you cannot teach yourself. So he's going to take me out as many times as he can while he's still mobile.  I'm kind of psyched. Plus, I'll get to spend non-awkward time with him.

Love you guys!

In less ranty news....

...I may quit going to Japanese steakhouses altogether.

Once again, justice is not only blind, she's a retarded liar who should be shot

I cannot fathom the mindset of people who feel they are protecting society by punishing innocent people. They are scum. The law, both its prosecutors and its enforcers, continue to be a source of deep, unmitigated shame for decent Americans. Apparently this guy is guilty of the worst crime of all in America: "We want to think you did it. Plus you're black.  All the science in the world can't change that."

Witness testimony: almost useless. Victim impact testimony in trial, not at sentencing? Worse than useless: inflammatory and of no actual worth in deciding guilt.  I am so tired of seeing people convicted cause the jury feels sorry for the weeping sad victim or the parents of someone murdered, or blah, blah, blah, and feels they have to send SOMEONE to jail. And all they have is this guy here...so even if there's no evidence...we gotta make the poor victim feel better, right?  It doesn't mean I am not sympathetic to the plight of the victim to think that two wrongs don't make a right. Or that that kind of strong, irresistible emotion should not be used to railroad someone in the face of a lack of better evidence.

The myth that prosecutors and the police are these warm, fuzzy balls of rectitude and decency that you have to revere and put your hat over your heart for on patriotic occasions can be nothing more than a big LIE as long as we keep seeing this.  And we will. Cause that's who they are.

Hi Mom and Dad!  Just ranting!

FYI, Pops

This is what it looks like when you're getting your neck shot. Except not as blurry.

Yesterday met Kate, Jame, Jo, Alex, Matt, Beezer and Carol Lehan plus his sister, Kevin McDonagh, Ray Hatch, his partner and his Mom(!), Charlie Abel (fellow dandelion-head plus world's only cajun/minor league baseball player/principal male ballet dancer ) Jeff K. (a very old friend from pre-Toby's shows: Mary Poppins, West Side Story, etc...), for eats and CAKE!

Then we all went to see the closing night of Carol's show.  She was fabulous.  It was wrenching. The girls emerged with double handfuls of sodden kleenex and even Jame appeared a touch moist in the ocular region.  Though it may have been the lights. There are some more pictures here. Password is 'donne'.

Mine didn't come out: this is off the photographer's site, hence the watermark.

None of the many pictures I took of the show and the kids and the people at the party came out, of course. Except this one of Beezer. He continues to annoy with his stubborn, juvenile refusal to age.  Also, inexplicably, he is always bathed in an enveloping ethereal glow of light so he is easy to photograph. He claims it's the natural radiance of his soul. I claim that God wants to keep an eye on him at all times. Plus he was sitting under a halogen.

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The damsel fly

Beautiful, if curious, since I can't get damsels anywhere NEAR my fly. Thanks, guys. And for the little extra. Happy Birthday to me! Love y'all!

While tomorrow is MY birthday....

...today is Kevin's.

Still thwarted PC-to-TV-wise...

Witness my latest frustration!  This drive is zippy and great. I've saved tons of crap on it and it hasn't made a dent. Thanks guys, love you! Happy Birthday to Me!

Woo-hoo! Thanks, guys!

This came yesterday, but my downstairs office had closed before I could pick it up. And --nicely, actually-- they lock everything up when they're gone.  Yay!  Love y'all!

I've given many speeches, been to many lectures, stood in front of countless podiums...

Never have I seen a desperate speaker resort to this. I have to say I think that  --no matter how relieving-- breaking down and using this would have a chilling effect on your audience. It's the whole 'squatting on top balanced four feet in the air' aspect of it. Unless it's a port-a-potty for Cirque Du Soleil.  Hmmmm...