drpaisley: (siegfried attacks!)
So here are the two greatest Chirstmas songs ever.

And the best, always. This year with the Miracle of Teeth!

Happy MacGowanmas to all, and to all, a good night.
drpaisley: (Default)

What, you thought I would forget?
drpaisley: (Default)
P. Craig Russell's adaptation of The Gift of the Magi

Thanks to birthday girl [livejournal.com profile] artnouveauho for the link.

Happy Krimble to all.
drpaisley: (Default)
Rohanna and I went to see Bob Reeder at O'Dowd's North last night (his final gig there, alas). Much fun was had. On the way home, we heard Bob Dylan's version of "Must Be Santa" on the radio.

This morning we had a bit of drizzle, followed by twenty minutes of classically fluffy snow falling, providing a light dusting to the landscape, but offering no impediment to travel (unlike last year's Snowpocalypse). Here's some tunes.

1) The Creature From The Black Lagoon, Dave Edmunds

2) Signed D.C., Love

3) Land Of 1000 Dances, Leningrad Cowboys

4) You Should'a Treated Me Right, Ike & Tina Turner

5) I'm Fixing A Hole, Duffy Power

6) Mink Car, TMBG

7) My Sentimental Melody, The Magnetic Fields

8) Bemsha Swing, Ginger Baker Trio

9) Jumping Jack Flash, Ananda Shankar

10) Marijuana In Your Brain, Lords Of Acid

More Nog!

11) Sweet Surrender, Nilsson

12) Tinker Taylor, Terry Reid

13) Rasputin, Boney M

This last is a cover of the Boiled in Lead classic, which is worth checking out.

A busy holiday weekend, with trips to Lawrence today and tomorrow, plus the Dim Sum fest Sunday morning and a birthday party that evening. Happy holidays and safe travels to everyone.
drpaisley: (Default)

Ah, tradition.
drpaisley: (Default)
Highway to the Manger Zone (oddly enough, not related to the link in the last post).

Lights please.

Both from a discussion on Unfogged that's quite entertaining in its own right.
drpaisley: (bacon)
The Year Kenny Loggins Ruined Christmas.

From my grandparents' flowery explanation and frequent use of the word "miracle," I went in expecting to be blown away by the production. Unfortunately, the church moms and the pathetic excuses for actors that they called their offspring failed to bring the characters to life in the way I had hoped. And the story just seemed to center around everyone being really impressed with Jesus and there wasn't much suspense and not a single battle scene.

And then there's this: 10 Things Christmas Would be Better Off Without.

Warning: contains language, because, you know, that's how we fucking communicate.

It's not unrealistic to get rid of Jesus from Christmas, you know. Pink Floyd did just fine without Syd Barrett. THINGS EVOLVE, PEOPLE.
drpaisley: (Default)
What, you're celebrating something else? Whyever would you do that?

Rohanna was kind enough to test the roads for us this morning. She left around 6a to join her family. I had just gone back to sleep when her phone went off. By the time I found it, it had stopped ringing, but I was able to see it was her daughter calling. As I sat on the bed with the phone, Ro herself walked in, having made it around the block and, noticing she had forgotten her phone, tried to come back and wound up leaving the van at the foot of the drive. She called her daughter, who said to stay home, as no one else was going to make it, so we went back to sleep.

I got up at 9.40, and went out to survey the damage. We got 8" or so here, with drifts well over a foot. Mine, mostly, as I did some cleanup in the driveway and on the street in front of my car. Dragonet called her mom, and it was decided we'd go up and do the family thing there on Sunday. After a lovely breakfast of scrach-made waffles and bacon, we did our minimalist gift exchange and have been hanging around here trying to get warm all day. The lack of heat on the upper floors has become somewhat more severe due to the lowered temperatures here. Tomorrow it's dim sum!

And in honor of the birth of Ireland's greatest singer, songwriter and refugee from dental justice, three songs: the obvious MacGowanmas classic, and two of my favorite Pogues songs of all.

This one goes behind teh cut, for the children. Also, lyrics in case your Shane to English translator is not working. )

So a happy Krimble to all, and to all a good night.

(edited to spell MacGowan correctly. I need more whisky)
drpaisley: (Default)
After slightly less than half a day at work, where the big fun was hooking up my new monitor (a nice 19" Dell flatscreen, to replace the ancient CRT that died on Tuesday), I fueled my car, did some last-minute shopping and came home so we could get ready to go to Lawrence to see my mom and her husband, Marlin, as is our tradition. I had checked the weather repeatedly before we left, and promised Rohanna we would make it back tonight no matter what it took, so she could go to her family gathering Xmas morning. The trip up was not an issue, with a small amount of snow on the highway, and somewhat more in Lawrence. After a stop to fill a couple of growlers at the Free State, we went on to Dragonet's sister's shop, Brits, and stocked up on various foodstuffs. I also caused Rohanna great pain when I showed her the dvd set (#2 of 2) of the old Robin of Sherwood BBC series on the rack there. After a quick run through Au Marché next door (where I picked up a Mo's Dark Chocolate Bacon Bar, report to come), we went back out into the rising wind and headed across town to my mom's house. The roads were snowy, but not slick at all, so I wasn't concerned about the weather.

Ww had a fine time at mom's, with snacks and hot buttered rum while waiting for Dragonet's sister Sally to close the shop and join us. She got there about six, and we had a fine time chatting about life and such, all the while with the Weather Channel muted on the tv. As the scenes of blizzardy goodness kept coming across the screen, alternating with the radar pics on the 8s, Rohanna got more and more concerned about the trip back. I kept telling her it would be fine.

After a lovely meal of beef bourguignon*, wild rice, rolls and Waldorf salad**, we had a brief exchange of gifts and then, at 9p, I went out and fired up the van and let it run for several minutes to warm up. It was brutally cold out (ok, not -23˚, but in the low teens with a 0˚ or so wind chill), and while several inches of snow had fallen, the brisk northern breeze had whipped the dry flakes into dunes and drifts much deeper. We pulled out onto the steep street and began the journey home. I had brought along a mix cd I call "Play Fucking Loud," and I put it in to provide accompaniment. We headed back through downtown and across the bridge over the River Kaw to the turnpike entrance. I had to stop and clean the ice buildup off the windshield wipers, which had gotten thick enough the blades were no longer touching the glass. We made it to the highway, which was in pretty decent shape. It had been treated early on with salt spray, and then plowed at least once. But the ice was building up again, and I stopped at the service area not far from Lawrence and got a scraper. Once I cleared the windshield and blades and we turned up the defroster to earbleed, I was able to see fairly well the rest of the way back, albeit occasionally by hunching down to look through a lower spot when a brief buildup would occur. It took almost an hour and a half, as opposed to the usual 40 minutes, but I got us home safe and sound. Yay me, I is a bearcat.

I am now sipping some of Free State's Santa's Helper winter ale, and waiting for the vicodin to kick in to deal with the kinks in my neck and shoulders. Depending on how much snow we get overnight, Dragonet and I will be heading back to Lawrence to her mom's around noon tomorrow. Hush, you muskies!

*At one point, Rohanna looked at me and said, "You ate mushrooms!" in the bourguignon, and I told her no, I worked around them, which was easy, since they were large and obvious. My mother was amazed that I didn't eat mushrooms, and Marlin professed shock that she knew so little about her oldest child. She noted that when fresh mushrooms first became readily available at the grocery store, and she and my sister would regularly chow down on them, I had already moved out of the house.

**I really like my mom's Waldorf salad, and hadn't had it in years and years. I served myself up a portion, and noticed some tiny red things in the mix. "Did you put cranberries in this?" I asked, before quickly correcting myself and noting they were pomegranates. Mom expressed surprised I liked them (it was a dinner full of learning experiences), and noted that when I was living at home, pomegranates weren't any more available in the store than fresh mushrooms were thirty-plus years ago.
drpaisley: (Default)
It was cold. No, Cold. No, I mean COLD. Colder than most of you have ever experienced. The official low on Dec. 23, 1989 in Kansas City was -23˚F. Dragonet and I went out in our station wagon (a trade up from the demon Nova, believe me) to run some errands and prep for the trip out to her folks's farm outside of Wellsville for Christmas. On the way home, I noticed the brakes were a little soft. After unloading the car, I put the laundry in the back and was going to run to the laundromat to take care of that bit of business. I detoured to the Western Auto (remember them?) to get some brake fluid, which I figured I would put in the car when I got to the Suds & Duds (laundry and beer, a great concept), and headed that way.

As I got to 79th & State Line, the light turned yellow, and I hit the brake pedal, which proceeded to sink straight to the floor, with no discernable effect on the car's rate of speed. I pumped the pedal a couple of times, with the same result, and as the light changed I cruised through the intersection honking and waving like I was in a parade. At this point, a variety of thoughts went through my head. Unfortunately, the word "neutral" did not appear in any of them, and I continued to cruise up the hill towards 75th Street, which had a car in each lane waiting for the red light to change. So I jerked the car into the Sinclair station on the corner, with the door open and dragging my foot to try to slow down (yeah, about as effective as you might think). I was presented with two options at that point: a pay phone (remember them?) with two concrete-filled posts in front of it, or a big pile of snow. I chose the snow, and the car flew up the drift and came to a stop long enough for me to slam it into park and turn it off. As I sat there hyperventilating, the pump jockey came over and said "Wow, that was impressive. You OK?"

Once I could breathe normally again, I walked across the street to the Phillips station that was our regular place for vehicle maintenance. The mechanics (remember them?) were taking a lunch break, and when I came in said, "Brakes, right? Nice work." I inquired about a tow, and they said if I called for one, it would be 3 days given the demand, but there would be one coming in soon with another disabled vehicle, and they would have them get the car and bring it over then. When the next tow truck came in, it had a Range Rover on its hook, much to the amusement of the mechanics. Once the wagon had been brought over, I got the laundry back out and walked the block and a half home to let Dragonet know we had no wheels for the nonce. She called her folks, who basically said too bad, see you when you have a car again. Then we called my mother, in Lawrence.

Mom had called me early in December to finalize plans, and when I asked why she was so far ahead of the curve, she told me they were going to Hawaii. "But it's OK," she said, "we're going to a conference." I informed her it was not OK, conference or no, and said several rude words. They had gotten back that morning and not realized how cold it had gotten, they just figured it felt cold because they'd been in warm climes for a week or so. When Marlin got the car out of the long-term lot, he said it drove really badly for a bit, and he realized later that the tires had frozen with flat spots where they were sitting on the pavement, and it took a bit of driving for the friction to warm them enough to return to round. Marlin was kind enough to drive to Kansas City on Christmas Day and pick us up and take us back to Lawrence for Christmas, then take us home.

So tomorrow afternoon we will head up to Lawrence again, to spend Christmas Eve with Mom and Marlin. Then back on Christmas Day to Dragonet's mom's, and the horde of relatives, though the snow that's being predicted might keep some of them from travelling. We probably will be blessed with the Four Great-Nephews of the Apocalypse (War, Famine, Pestilence and Seth).

But unless you live in Winnipeg or Antarctica or darkest Maine, I think I got yer low temperature beat.
drpaisley: (Default)
Got busy this morning and didn't have time to post. Music.

1) Bottle And Rusty Blade, Pinebox Serenade

2) Santa God, Pearl Jam

3) Hang Them All, Tapes 'n Tapes

4) Leslie Anne Levine, The Decemberists

5) Friday Night, August 14th, Funkadelic

6) It Aint Me Babe, Turtles

7) Stranger In The House, Elvis Costello

8) The Anyway Song, Lullaby Baxter Trio

9) Mr. Webster (Mono Master), The Monkees

10) My Car, Atlas Sound

and the overage

11) Anarchitect, Susu

12) Vocal Interlude, World Party

13) Proper Ding [Eric Prydz vs. Pink Floyd vs. Seeed], DJ Morgoth

And now, for something comepletely different:

and a couple more personal favorites )

On the work front, Chuckles, the semi-literate, moderately-inbred Army vet had used her DeVry degree and who knows what else to get a job with the V.A. One hopes whatever she's coding for has nothing to do with patient care, or else her consistent inability to tell numbers from letters might cause some issues (you think I'm kidding. Oh, Ghu, how I wish I was kidding). She came in today and told the boss she was leaving. He was still in the "shock" phase, no telling what happens when he gets to "anger." Presumably, he won't fold the place right away, but who knows?

The boss gave me tickets to the Chefs game Sunday, vs. the Buffalitos (hi, Lawrence!). Ro and I will be going, but might not stay until the end. We shall see. And, in feetsball related news, Baconcats were less than cromulent in defending their championship, finishing the season 6-7 and out of the playoffs. Now I need a new name for next year.
drpaisley: (Default)
. . . I wants me one of these. Actually, one of each.


FSM ornaments and tree-toppers for the secular holiday celebration.

*I am unutterably opposed to any mention of Xmas before Thanksgiving, on principle. We have two radio stations here in KC (both in the Michael Bolton/Celine Dion/Little River Band "soft rock" schlock music category) who started with the Holiday Cheer™ on October Freakin' 30th! In a just world, their licenses would be yanked, and the station managers would be amongst the first up against the wall. But then so would most of their regular roster of "artists."


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