This just in. An announcement was made this morning by the Super Bowl Committee that the following commercial will be added to tomorrow's exciting broadcast of Super Bowl IXXXXXXXXXXXXXX. Unfortunately it will not be broadcast nationally...only on a regional basis. It was not disclosed as to which regions in the U.S. will be getting it.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Devil Weed
I've been off the weed for almost ten years. My oldest daughter is now eleven, and she was a major factor in my giving them up...or rather, sticking to giving them up... since the last time was my third attempt.
We were looking through some older photos recently and it occurred to me that in almost every photo of me since about 1965...I have a cigarette in my hand...for example, this one taken in my boat just before I met my wife (12-13 years ago?). Take a look...there it is, in my right hand.
Actually, since this photo was taken in my boat, I'm surprised there wasn't a Red Stripe in my left hand...must have been in the drink holder by the wheel.
This was taken in Key Largo, as I recall...lots of Red Stripe nights down there...with these to clean up the next morning...depending who was with one the next morning.
Yes, the smell of the ocean, the mangroves, good seafood...ashtrays. Not to mention bad breath.
At the time of the photo of me above, I had been smoking about 30 years and when I started smoking, it was still consider sophisticated, worldly, adult...macho, hondo, manly. We teens of the day had gaggles of celebs to imitate...you know them...
and the epitome of, "suck on this, it is so daaaaaaaamned delicious." Rick.
And what horny toad, hormonal young guy wouldn't want to
have a fag (that word was reserved for smokes in those days
dudes and dudettes) with this older lady, after...you know.
Smoking had nothing to do with reality...it had to do with how
one perceived oneself...and I perceived myself with Marilyn...
or any willing person of the female persuasion, for that matter.
The reality however, was more along these lines.
In my defense I have to say, there was plenty of reinforcement
in the early days of my addiction.
A tobacco ad in a medical journal. Two DOCTORS sharing a smoke...and a R. J. Reynolds
check?
It never occurred to me that this could be the result of
years of smoking. Who knew (the tobacco companies, I
suspect). Surely, this could never have happened to
Marilyn.
It was somewhat unstated, but a man who didn't
smoke, well, there was something rotten in Denmark
about that...or that other place next door?
...a famous, anal retentive, non-smoker.
As I expanded my horizons and became a world
traveler through the kindness of our government,
I became acquainted with other types of smoking and
mindsets...not that I EVER partook of alternate
pleasures and substances, thus for sooking my western
civilization roots.
This however, could never take the place of my Marlboros, or my horse.
Nor could these...or water buffalo.
Yes, Marlboro...richer, full-flavored and more satisfying, a
red-blooded, American man's cigarette.
I gave them up after the birth of my first daughter...
and after I found out that two of the four Marlboro
men died of lung cancer...in their mid to late forties.
I am a lucky man indeed. There are two reasons my butt (was it intended?) should not be here posting on this stupid ass blog. One of them is cigarettes.
We were looking through some older photos recently and it occurred to me that in almost every photo of me since about 1965...I have a cigarette in my hand...for example, this one taken in my boat just before I met my wife (12-13 years ago?). Take a look...there it is, in my right hand.
Actually, since this photo was taken in my boat, I'm surprised there wasn't a Red Stripe in my left hand...must have been in the drink holder by the wheel.
This was taken in Key Largo, as I recall...lots of Red Stripe nights down there...with these to clean up the next morning...depending who was with one the next morning.
Yes, the smell of the ocean, the mangroves, good seafood...ashtrays. Not to mention bad breath.
At the time of the photo of me above, I had been smoking about 30 years and when I started smoking, it was still consider sophisticated, worldly, adult...macho, hondo, manly. We teens of the day had gaggles of celebs to imitate...you know them...
and the epitome of, "suck on this, it is so daaaaaaaamned delicious." Rick.
And what horny toad, hormonal young guy wouldn't want to
have a fag (that word was reserved for smokes in those days
dudes and dudettes) with this older lady, after...you know.
Smoking had nothing to do with reality...it had to do with how
one perceived oneself...and I perceived myself with Marilyn...
or any willing person of the female persuasion, for that matter.
The reality however, was more along these lines.
In my defense I have to say, there was plenty of reinforcement
in the early days of my addiction.
A tobacco ad in a medical journal. Two DOCTORS sharing a smoke...and a R. J. Reynolds
check?
It never occurred to me that this could be the result of
years of smoking. Who knew (the tobacco companies, I
suspect). Surely, this could never have happened to
Marilyn.
It was somewhat unstated, but a man who didn't
smoke, well, there was something rotten in Denmark
about that...or that other place next door?
...a famous, anal retentive, non-smoker.
As I expanded my horizons and became a world
traveler through the kindness of our government,
I became acquainted with other types of smoking and
mindsets...not that I EVER partook of alternate
pleasures and substances, thus for sooking my western
civilization roots.
This however, could never take the place of my Marlboros, or my horse.
Nor could these...or water buffalo.
Yes, Marlboro...richer, full-flavored and more satisfying, a
red-blooded, American man's cigarette.
I gave them up after the birth of my first daughter...
and after I found out that two of the four Marlboro
men died of lung cancer...in their mid to late forties.
I am a lucky man indeed. There are two reasons my butt (was it intended?) should not be here posting on this stupid ass blog. One of them is cigarettes.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
X the 7X...Bums
Yes!
I pulled this from crooksandliars.com, who got it from ABC News...who got it from our in-house political advisors (pictured on the right):
The high-flying execs at Citigroup caved under pressure from President Obama
and decided today to abandon plans for a luxurious new $50 million
corporate jet from France.
The bank used TARP funds to purchase a new corporate jet
for executives.
The decision came 24 hours after the banking giant, which was rescued by a $45 billion taxpayer lifeline, defended buying the state-of-the-art Dassault Falcon 7X --one of nine to be flying in U.S. skies--as a smart business deal.
The jet, the epitome of corporate prestige and privilege, can carry 12 passengers in elegant comfort.
ABC News has learned that on Monday officials of the Obama administration called Citigroup about the company's new $50 million corporate jet and told execs to "fix it."
The President of the United States actively demanding that corporate fat cats quit abusing taxpayer money? How unheard of!
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Defenders of the Weak Episode 1
Yesterday morning, while having coffee, I turned on the TV to a movie channel, TBS I think. They were showing an old 1936 serial called, "Zorro Rides Again." It was a 12 episode serial and they showed chapters 10 and 11. I have no idea what the deuce they were thinking not including the 12th and final chapter...because now I don't know if the "new" Zorro caught the mustached bad guy, or not. I pulled the trailer below off YouTube, and as you can see, it's definitely campy. To a kid, at the time, I am sure it was high entertainment.
The fact that they choose not to air the final chapter of Zorro Lives..., brought to mind an event in my childhood that traumatized me for years.
When I was about 7 years old, my neighborhood theater was still showing serials in between movies, which most other theaters had quit doing a few years previous, if my memory serves me well. In this instance, the serial was titled, "The Phantom Empire" starring Gene Autry. It was made in 1933..old even in 1955. I hook, lined and fell for this serial that had not only horses and cowboys, but robots too!
I lived for every Saturday when my mom dropped me off at that theater. Some Saturdays she would let me sit through two presentations...I couldn't get enough. At about Chapter 8 or 9 (8 or 9 perfect Saturdays in my young life) the theater shut down to remodel, because it was changing it's family oriented films to ones with adult themes (I found out later). That is to say, in the vernacular of the era...a girlie show theater. Abruptly, my vicarious life with the "underground men" came to a halt. I was crushed. I would never know the conclusion. It haunted me for years. However I finally forgot about it in the ensuing years. That is until about ten years ago when I saw an old Gene Autry movie on TV. It reminded me of my shattered entertainment dream and I told my wife about it. The next Christmas, under the tree was a present to me in a flat box. I opened it and behold, two complete DVD's of Gene Autry and the "underground men" (The Phantom Empire).
The premise of Phantom is as follows, taken from an old serial website (which I neglected to note):
When the ancient continent of Mu sank beneath the ocean, some of its inhabitants survived in caverns beneath the sea. Cowboy singer Gene Autry stumbles upon the civilization, now buried beneath his own Radio Ranch. The Muranians have developed technology and weaponry such as television and ray guns. Their rich supply of radium draws unscrupulous speculators from the surface. The peaceful civilization of the Muranians is corrupted by the greed from above, and it becomes Autry's task to prevent all-out war, ideally without disrupting his regular radio show.
Here then is the trailer:
More Saturday fantasies in the next "dazzling" installment...chapter...episode.
The fact that they choose not to air the final chapter of Zorro Lives..., brought to mind an event in my childhood that traumatized me for years.
When I was about 7 years old, my neighborhood theater was still showing serials in between movies, which most other theaters had quit doing a few years previous, if my memory serves me well. In this instance, the serial was titled, "The Phantom Empire" starring Gene Autry. It was made in 1933..old even in 1955. I hook, lined and fell for this serial that had not only horses and cowboys, but robots too!
I lived for every Saturday when my mom dropped me off at that theater. Some Saturdays she would let me sit through two presentations...I couldn't get enough. At about Chapter 8 or 9 (8 or 9 perfect Saturdays in my young life) the theater shut down to remodel, because it was changing it's family oriented films to ones with adult themes (I found out later). That is to say, in the vernacular of the era...a girlie show theater. Abruptly, my vicarious life with the "underground men" came to a halt. I was crushed. I would never know the conclusion. It haunted me for years. However I finally forgot about it in the ensuing years. That is until about ten years ago when I saw an old Gene Autry movie on TV. It reminded me of my shattered entertainment dream and I told my wife about it. The next Christmas, under the tree was a present to me in a flat box. I opened it and behold, two complete DVD's of Gene Autry and the "underground men" (The Phantom Empire).
The premise of Phantom is as follows, taken from an old serial website (which I neglected to note):
When the ancient continent of Mu sank beneath the ocean, some of its inhabitants survived in caverns beneath the sea. Cowboy singer Gene Autry stumbles upon the civilization, now buried beneath his own Radio Ranch. The Muranians have developed technology and weaponry such as television and ray guns. Their rich supply of radium draws unscrupulous speculators from the surface. The peaceful civilization of the Muranians is corrupted by the greed from above, and it becomes Autry's task to prevent all-out war, ideally without disrupting his regular radio show.
Here then is the trailer:
More Saturday fantasies in the next "dazzling" installment...chapter...episode.
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