No Drive Saturday

PG looked at the clock, and saw that afternoon was about to convert into evening. It had been a no drive day.
Through the magic of the algorenet, PG had traveled far and wide. The server for many of his sputterings was in California, and all that pixelage rambled thousands of miles. Once, PG chatted with a neighbor across the street, and the typoids went to silicone valley and back before going fifty yards east.
PG also copped some lovely music. An MP3 site was going to post 24 items in 24 hours. While PG had not gotten any of these yet today, last night he got some lovely material from David Bowie and the Replacements.
The picture he had worked on the last few weeks was finally coming into shape. The last of the changes was hopefully made to the model, and as many bugs as possible were erased from the design. The final assembly will probably be next weekend, along with the fourth.
There was a comment to his last post, and PG made a reply. There is a long and unhappy story that PG could use to illustrate how he feels, but does not need the negativity tonight. The memories that would fuel the story are not going to go anywhere, even though PG would be happier if they did.
The bottom line is, there is a difference between standing up for what is right, and engaging in a playground quarrel. It can be tough to tell the difference sometimes. Even if you are right to stand up against evil, there is a chance that innocent people will get caught in the crossfire. There is even a cliché prayer for this: Lord, give me the strength to change the things I can change, the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, and the wisdom to tell the difference One of the offices that PG visits has another version of this. Lord, grant me the fortune to not see the people that I do not like, the kindness to greet those that I do like, and the eyesight to tell the difference” That might not be exactly how it goes, but verbatim memory is not PG’s best quality.
After a while, the laundry was done, the coffee drank, the chatters offended, and the picture still not finished. It was time to go look for yard sales. PG found one next to a McMansion under construction. There was a NY Yankees baseball hat for one dollar. The world series’ of 96 and 99 are a bitter memory, and PG is a Georgia native. Despite this, he paid the lady a dollar for the hat. He does not know where he will wear it. Maybe at night no one will know the difference.
In a little while, PG will clean up and walk a few blocks to a potluck. It will be a no driving day. These are rare, and are appreciated. The devils deal our culture made with oil is not going to go anywhere. One day of not driving will not make much of a difference, except to make PG feel better.

It is said you cannot write the perfect country and western song without something about trains. This perfect song also needs to have something about rain. Snow should be a good substitute, especially for the modern country and western singer. The perfect blog post does not exist. This post in particular does not mention trucks, mama, prison, or getting drunk.

The Surge is Working

P.G. realized at midnight that he would not be sleeping through the night. Not for lack of trying.
The day before, his boss asked him to come in at nine instead of ten thirty. Just as he was beginning to enjoy staying up to midnight and sleeping until eight, another change had been thrown his way. Not wanting to do much, he decided to go to bed early, and tossed and half slept until 12. And he thought and thought. Thinking too much was always a problem. The comparison of who was uglier, Neil Young or Neal Boortz, would have to wait until another day.
The computer was still turned on, so that was a natural stop. There was a parodic post about how the drought in Atlanta was ruining gay pride, and by association the fabulicity of Rosie O’Donnell. Next, the story of a College Teacher in Nashville. The students said some bigoted and yucky things. The instructor quoted a poem by Martin Niemoller, who is rolling in his grave wondering about the royalties.
Next on the “agenda” was an ex straight writer in New Yuck ( This facility is NSFW The user name is PAYOR, the password is PASSWORD, use all caps ) It seems as though some institute in Sweden did a study about the size of the different sections of the brain. The brains of gay men were like the brains of straight women, and the brains of straight men were like the brains of gay women. There was no report of the brain parts of dog lovers compared to people who drive S.U.V.’s.
Next stop on the midnight train under Georgia was Catharsis. Written by Iraqi Exile Abbas, this conduit has provided P.G. with much amusement, and proof that the surge is working. His comment today was brief… Firebrand populist to some, childish jackass to others, and profusely ugly to all. What’s he doing here? When you follow the link, you see a portrait of Shia boytoy Muqtada al-Sadr. He is number 13 on the Time magazine list of 100 influential people.
P.G. likes to peruse lists of 100 influential people, and is disappointed to not be included. He does not have the patience to click 100 times and see a different page for each I.P. When he sees that number one is The Dalai Lama ( hagiography by Deepak Chopra), he realizes that he is hungry and goes to make a sandwich.
Spell check suggestions for this feature:
blogosphere- heliosphere, lithosphere, photosphere, troposphere, biosphere
neo- neon, no. leo, geo, net, neg, new, zee
Dalai- dalia, adlai.
Sadr- sad
Boortz- Boorish, abort
parodic- parodied, parody. procodic, periodic
fabulicity- fabulists, publicity, multiplicity, catholicity, felicity

Number One Hits

There is a man known as XWinger. He sells Celtic music, promotes DimSum groups, and has a blog.
Once at his place I saw a link to a site that tells you what the Number One song was on that day. The arbiter of number oneness is Billboard Magazine.
The List goes back to 1892. On January 1, 1892, the #1 hit was “Drill, Ye Terriers, Drill” by George J. Gaskin. I imagine that before a certain date this would refer to sheet music, or maybe player piano thingies. Other big hits from the Gay Nineties include “The Fatal Wedding” (1894, George J. Gaskin), “Little Alabama Coon” (1895. Len Spencer) and ” A Hot Time in the Old Town”(1897, Dan Quinn).
When my daddy was born in 1916, the top hit was “M-O-T-H-E-R ( A Word that Means So Much to Me) by Henry Burr. When mother was born in 1922, folks were listening to “Stumbling” by Paul Whiteman.
In October 1929, the stock market crashed to “Am I Blue” by Ethel Waters.
When Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, the big song was “Chattanooga Choo Choo” by Glenn Miller. Mr. Miller joined the Army after the start of the War, and toured with a band to entertain troops. On December 15, 1944, his plane disappeared in France. The number one hit that day was “I’m Making Believe” by the Ink Spots and Ella Fitzgerald. The Ink Spots played at the Domino Lounge downtown when I was a kid. The shows were advertised on the radio, and I heard people say “the Ink Spots have been around for a while”.
In 1954, this reporter was born. The number one hit that day was “Wanted” by Perry Como. Two years later, my brother was born to the sounds of “Heartbreak Hotel” by Elvis Presley.
One way to track the hits through the years is to pick a date and follow it. It should be noted that Billboard is the essence of “commercial”. On my tenth birthday, the big sound was “Hello Dolly” by Louis Armstrong. On the verge of the summer of Love, the big hit was “Something Stupid” by Nancy Sinatra and Frank Sinatra. At no time in early May did the Beatles have a number one hit. This lack of hipness was partially compensated in 1969 with “Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In” by the Fifth Dimension.
The seventies continued the commercial tradition with “Joy to the World” by Three Dog Night. This was in 1971, the year they played a big show at Atlanta Stadium. The disco monster raised its glittering hand with “Night Fever”, by the Bee Gees in 1978.
As the eighties rolled in, I got a job and apartment, and music became less familiar. The first big May hit of the eighties was “Call Me” by Blondie. It was from a movie starring Richard Gere. The movie did not feature gerbils. The decayed decade was not a total loss, as 1983 featured “Beat It” by Michael Jackson.
Moving into the nineties and oughts, my old fogey decrepitude is near total. Or is that the wasteland of pop music? By this time top 40 is all but extinct, am radio given over to all talk stations, and fm music so spread out that no one style of music is dominant. The number one hit on my birthday this year is “Bleeding Love” by Leona Lewis.
Of course, the leaders of our country don’t always listen. On May 28, 1915, the biggest song was “I Didn’t Raise My Boy To Be A Soldier” by the Peerless Quartet. And, in 1964 on this day, the number one hit was “Love Me Do” by the Beatles.

Body Parts

The Liver:
1. Produces 13,000 chemicals per day
2. Is responsible for making components for 55,000 enzyme systems.
3. It weighs 4.4 lbs. or 2.2 kilos.
4. Has the ability to re-generate itself
5. All toxins including those that are inhaled are processed by and through the liver
6. Runs through the Basal Metabolic Rate which is controlled by the Thyroid Gland so in theory, the thyroid gland controls the pace of the liver
7. The liver controls the flow of blood throughout the entire body
8. All Hemorrhoid issues are caused by an overloaded liver
9. All Menstrual problems are directly caused by the liver
10. Does the majority of its work the minute we go to bed (11 pm – 1 am)

Gallbladder:
1. A specially lined organ that is designed to hold bile
2. Bile is manufactured by the liver
3. Bile is considered to be the most corrosive substance in the human body
4. Bile is released each and every time we eat
5. Court physicians during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I (1542) healed every illness through the gallbladder. They said the gallbladder was “the opening to God”
6. Does the majority of its work between 1 am and 3 pm
7. Is directly responsible for indigestion, heartburn, flatulence and bloated ness

Ileo Cecal Valve:
1. 2 inches to the right of the navel and 2 inches down
2. Doorway between medium intestine and large intestine
3. Susceptible to stress
4. When malfunctioning, it allows toxins from the large intestine to pass backwards into the medium intestine where they are absorbed directly into the bloodstream
5. This causes the Liver to refrain from releasing as much toxins as it normally would
6. And in turn causes the lymphatic system which is bringing toxins to the liver to become sluggish and congested

The above information is from Philip Princetta. Dr. Princetta works within Integrated Healing Arts. For more information write: pprincetta@cox.net

Bullet Points

I have been using wordpress for a few months now. I am waiting for the time when a post goes through with no hassles.
Tonight will not be the night.
I didn’t have much to say. I decided to copy a letter from a friend about the liver and gall bladder. There is nothing wrong with sharing knowledge, especially when you believe what is said to be true.
The letter used bullet points. I suspect this at the root of the issue.
I edited the letter, and marked it up with HTML. This is how I get font colors.
When I added it to the dashboard, the font colors did not show up. Also, the pictures were placed in a skewed order.
I tried a different browser, with the same results.
I am going to post this without the bullet points.
When you add text to a window, you should use the window “html” and not the window “visual”.

A visit to 1956

In 1994 I was working in downtown Atlanta. I represented my company in a customer’s office, and there was often time with nothing to do. At the very least, there was no timeclock and an hour lunch could slip into overtime with few consequences.
There was an issue in the news in 1994, along with some claims made that I simply did not believe. One day, I went to the library, and sat down with the microfilms of the Atlanta Constitution (Covers Dixie Like the Dew) for the Winter of 1956.
One of the fun things about doing research is the things you were not looking for, but see anyway. Elvis Presley made a personal appearance at the Fox Theatre. There was a lot of speculation about whether Dwight Eisenhower would have a different Vice President in the next election. Mr. President had a heart attack the previous year, and many did not want Richard Nixon to be President.
This was 20 years after Mr. Nixon resigned the Presidency in disgrace. You wonder how things might have been different if someone had acted on those concerns.
This was two years after Brown vs. The Board of Education, and many were concerned about school desegregation. A bill was proposed in the legislature that year to make it a felony to advocate integration.
The Governor at the time was Marvin Griffin. Georgia Tech played Pittsburgh in the Sugar Bowl that year, in spite of the fact that Pittsburgh had a black player. The Governor strongly objected, but was overruled, and the game was played without incident.
The State of Georgia changed the state flag that year. The new flag had the state seal on a blue stripe next to the St. Andrews Cross. This cross was the battle flag of the Confederate States of America.
In 1994 many wanted to change that flag. Some said that it was a symbol of slavery and oppression; others said it was a reminder of battlefield valor. A native southerner, I could understand both points of view, and was neutral regarding a change of the flag.
One thing that I did not understand was an argument made for changing the flag. The line in those days…first expressed by Governor Zell Miller and endlessly repeated by the local fishwrapper media, was that the flag had been changed as a protest against desegregation.
I did not believe that for a minute. The legislature in 1956 was not that smart. They were a bunch of white males who were racist, alcoholic crooks. (There were exceptions to this) If someone had suggested a flag change as a stand of defiance against desegregation, they might have thought it a good idea, but I somehow doubt that anyone thought like that.
After all, this was 1956. The sixties, where protest became the new national pastime, were a few years away.
After a few minutes of searching through the department store ads and sports pages, I found what I was looking for.
I found the article announcing the flag change. There was no mention of a protest against desegregation. They announced it as a way of honoring the Confederacy. This is in keeping with the times. Georgia in 1956 was still recovering from the War, and the Cult of Honoring the Confederacy was strong.
The flag was eventually changed under the leadership of Governor Roy Barnes. The new flag was even uglier than the old one, which I did not think was possible. Sonny Perdue defeated Mr. Barnes in his bid for reelection, in no small part because he proposed a referendum on the flag. He forgot his promise as soon as he got into office, but the flag was changed once again.
Time to go back to work.

Jean D. McKinnon

The first picture in this episode is a family portrait of the Quin family in Washington Georgia. The nine surviving children of Hugh Pharr Quin are sitting for the camera. Mr. Quin had joined the Georgia State Troops of the Army of the Confederacy at the age of 16, and after the war went to Washington to live with his sister. Mr. Quin was in the church choir of the First Methodist Church when he met the organist, Betty Lou DuBose. They were married January 22, 1879.
The original name of Mrs. Quin was Louisa Toombs DuBose. She was the daughter of James Rembert DuBose. His brother in law was Robert Toombs, the Secretary of State of the Confederacy, and a man of whom many stories are told.
In this picture, Mrs. Quin is holding the hand of her second youngest daughter so she will not run away. This is Mattie Vance Quin. She is my grandmother.
After The Great War, Mattie Vance Quin was living in Memphis Tennessee, where she met Arthur Dunaway. Mr. Dunaway was a veteran of the war, and was from Paragould, Arkansas. On July 23, 1922 her first Daughter, Jean, was born. This is my mother.
Mr. Dunaway died in 1930, shortly after the birth of his son Arthur. There were hard times and upheaval after this, with the family settling in Atlanta. There her third child Helen Ann Moffat was born on December 12, 1933. This is my Aunt Helen and my mother’s best friend.

Jean lived for many years with her mother and sister at 939 Piedmont, among other locations. She joined the First Baptist Church and sang in the choir. She got a job with the C&S bank, and was working at the Tenth Street Branch when she met Luther McKinnon. He was a native of Rowland, North Carolina. They were married October 6, 1951.
They moved into the Skyland Apartments, which in those days was out in the country. Mom told a story about Dad taking her home from Choir practice, and going home on the two lane Buford Hiway. There was a man who went to the restaurants to get scraps to feed his pigs, and his truck was always in front of them. This was a serious matter in the summer without air conditioning.
Soon, they moved into a house, and Luther junior was born on May 6, 1954. This is me. Malcolm was born May 10, 1956, which did it for the children. Neither of us had children, so that is where that ends.
The fifties were spent on Wimberly Road, a street of always pregnant women just outside Brookhaven. It was a great place to be a little kid.
In 1960, we moved to Parkridge Drive, to the house where my brother and I stay today. The note payment was $88 a month. Ashford Park School is a short walk away…the lady who sold us the house said ” you slap you kid on the fanny and he is at school”.
In 1962, our family followed the choir director from First Baptist to Briarcliff Baptist, which is where my parents remained.
In 1964, Mom went back to work. She ran the drive in window at Lenox Square for the Trust Company of Georgia until it was time to retire. She became a talk radio fan when RING radio started, and was a friend of her customer Ludlow Porch. She gave dog biscuits to customers with dogs.
During this era of change, Mom taught me that all people were good people, be they black or white. This was rare in the south. She later became disgusted with the War in Vietnam, and liked to quote a man she heard on the radio. “How will we get out of Vietnam?”" By ship and by plane”.
Eventually, it was time to retire. Her and Dad did the requisite traveling, until Dad got sick and passed away February 7,1992. Mom stuck around for a few more years, until her time came December 18, 1998.

Directions and Female Comedy

Maybe I am not a real man. I once asked for directions.
I don’t think that jokes about asking directions are very funny.
It is a rule that female comedians cannot perform without telling at least one joke about men not asking for directions.
Never mind that when you ask for directions, you are asking for trouble. Many directions from strangers will leave you more lost than you already were.
With GPS systems coming into popularity, the female comedian is an endangered species.That is, unless she marries a Cuban bandleader, cries a lot, and dyes her hair red.
Did the Three Stooges ever ask for directions?
Why did Moses wander in the desert for forty years? He wouldn’t ask for directions.
Mapquest is not a perfect solution. It can steer you into wild goose land just as surely as that toothless man at the gas station.
One I had to take something to a place outside Gainesville. My boss gave me the mapquest directions he had used before, and said that he got lost using them.
I called the lady I would be taking the product to. She gave me directions to the place, and I found it without a problem. ( Sometimes people give good instructions). I mentioned that her directions were good, and she said that they were the same ones she gave my boss.
Mapquest is a good tool, but is not the final word. A map book is your friend, even if it is not perfect. Urban Legend has it that cartographers will insert nonexistent streets into their product as a method of copywriting.
Maybe female comedians can make jokes about that.

Too Extreme Part Two

There is an irony in the North Carolina Republicans using Jeremiah Wright as an example of “too extreme”. While on the surface their messages are different, on an emotional level they are similar.
Both are more concerned with “energizing the base”. The people cheering on Mr. Wright are already converted. They enjoy being screamed at on Sunday Morning. It makes them feel better.
The North Carolina Republicans have focus groups about their ads. They know that the people who are repulsed by their rhetoric are unlikely to vote Republican. The people who are entertained by that message will be more likely to give the party money after watching the ad. There is a call for donations at the beginning and end of that commercial, just like the passing the offering plate is the seminal ritual in Jesus Worship.
A frequent theme of preaching to the converted/energizing the base is trashing bogeymen. Liberals, Gays, Immigrants, and Muslims are frequent targets for badmouthing. Apparently the Jesus Worshipers/Republicans feel that the energizing of their base offsets the ill will created by this emotional terrorism.
There is another thing about the Jeremiah Wright coverage that concerns me. He is universally called “Pastor Wright”. Maybe I didn’t get the memo, but I thought Pastor was a job description. Saying Pastor Wright is like saying Plumber Jones or Accountant Smith.

Speaking of terrorism, something interesting is going on with Mr. Obama. A few days ago it was reported that a man named Hatem El-Hady was a fundraiser for Mr. Obama. Mr. El-Hady was affiliated with some groups that were considered terrorists by our Government.
Today, if you go to the “dedicated page” of Mr. El-Hady on MyBarackObama, you will find the message that “The Profile URL you have entered does not exist.” I don’t know quite what to make of this. It could be that the feds were correct, that Mr. El-Hady was a terrorist fundraiser. It could mean that Mr. Obama doesn’t need the controversy, and threw Mr. El-Hady under the bus. This would be the same bus he threw his grandmother under . Or, it could be that with Sixty Dollars in funds raised, Mr. El-Hady does not rate a dedicated page. There is no word on whether Mr. Obama has returned the sixty dollars.
There are still some thoughts provoked by this. With the petrodollars flooding Wahhabi land, why would there be a need for stateside fundraising? The Feds need to be seen making an effort against terrorism, and capitalism makes hunting the money trail politically correct. Still, one wonders if this has any impact on the fight to make us safer, and whether legitimate charities have been tarred with the terrorist brush.
Then there is the Wesley Snipes affair. Mr. Snipes was sentenced to prison recently for tax issues. It was pointed out on the Mike Gallagher show Friday that Mr. Snipes is a tax protester, and this may be the real reason he was sent to the big house. (Or, maybe it was for playing a drag queen in that movie with Patrick Swayze). It occurred to me while listening to Mr. Gallagher discuss the power of government to selectively prosecute those with unpopular opinions, that the same thing was happening to Muslim Charities.
Spell check suggestions for this feature:
Hatem- hate, harem, Hate em
Hady- handy, hardy, hay, had,lady, Hedy, shady
Wahhabi- washable, cohabit, habits, habitue’
Swayze- Swayer, sway, seaway, someway, sideway

Earth Day

Happy Earth Day ya’ll.
To me, it is just another working day. I drive a white truck around town, pumping lots of CO2 into the air. I suspect that this is damaging the overall balance of the atmosphere, but we are living in Babylon ( while fighting a war in Babylon, but that is a somewhat connected story).
Lets just say that my feelings about global warming are similar to my ideas about G-d. I suspect both exist, but cannot prove it. In the case of GW, the naysayers are close to convincing me that GW is real. Every time I hear Neal Boortz mock GW, I believe Al Gore a bit more.
 I was on my way to the King Building, and Mr. Boortz was saying that environmentalists were anti capitalists who didn’t have communism to shelter them anymore. Or something to that effect, I turned off the radio before too long. When I get to the King Building, the driveway to the front is blocked, because of an earth day celebration. I have to park in the deck, tote my stuff upstairs, and then decide to check out the festivities.
It is morning, and the tables are still setting up. A truck from WSB radio is there, and I told the man that Neal Boortz ( who plays on that station) was trashing the environmental movement.”
The next table was a lady who recycles cell phone batteries. She was happy to talk to someone. She gave me a pamphlet, a lanyard, and an ink pen. I bent back the clip on the ink pen and broke it off.
The next table gave me a chicobag. A reusable shopping bag, with its own stuff sack, the chicobag is a marvel of petrochemical indulgence.
At this point I decided to take no more freebies unless forced to. Georgia Power company had a folder of information on how to save energy, but the man did not force me to take it.
Before long, it was time to go get the truck out of the deck. This deck, like so many others, is a lot easier to get into than to get out of. Is gasoline wasted by the endless wandering that parking decks entail?
Today, I tried a different route, and was out after only one ramp down, one flat ramp, and a ramp up. Back out into the sunshine and aggressive speeding vehicles on i285.