Eric Dalen's Shangri-Blog

Facebookin'

2009-06-12T21:12:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I don't post as often as I should, but I do. And now I've set my username so it's easier to find . . .

http://www.facebook.com/ericdalen

Original, eh?

I can also be "followed" on Twitter:

http://www.twitter.com/ericdalen

Too much of me, mayhaps.

Twitter -- A Useful Tool, or A Candy Bar on The Web?

2009-04-12T16:45:00.000-07:00

I joined Twitter reluctantly, seeing so many people posting what they had for lunch, and telling the world they were going to bed.

Fascinating.

After a couple of false starts, I began adding my . . . thoughts. I shouldn't really qualify them as "thoughts" since I make most of them up, but that's what kept my interest.

My "real" life may not be as intriguing as the guy who had a turkey sandwich for lunch and has to get up early for a flight to Austin, but I won't let that get in my way!

(Is 77 followers good?)

http://www.twitter.com/ericdalen.com

Windows Live Writer

2009-02-04T07:32:00.001-08:00

Okay, so I got this new software called Windows Live Writer. It’s like an email program for blogs – I’m supposed to be able to post straight from it onto my Blogspot/Blogger account. This is the first test. Should I include a picture?

If this posts correctly, I’ll be happy and use it. If not, well, then you won’t be reading this, will you?

Eric
eric@ericdalen.com

Prostitutes For Peace

2008-12-27T08:11:00.000-08:00

So, the CIA is giving Afghan Chieftans Viagra to get their cooperation. Apparently, it works better than money. They love the little blue pill.

Make love, not war.

But what if a Chieftan doesn't have someone to enjoy the Viagra with?

Here's an idea. Let's round up our call girls, and instead of sticking them in jail, send them all to Kabul. That would solve two problems -- prostitution in America, and the war in Afghanistan. We'll ship airplane loads of ED medicine and raid the villages with hookers. Maybe sneak a couple into Osama Bin Laden's camp and take care of his crankiness once and for all.

Let's get on this right away! Time is a-wasting!

You can thank me later.

Zippity Doo Dah

2008-12-16T11:10:00.000-08:00

Wow, more than two months since I last posted, and I stole that one. I should be arrested.

Nevertheless, I'm not going to apologize for my lack of updates, chiefly because I'm not sorry. I'm not, I'm not, I'm not. That, and you can't make me.

I could offer some lame excuse about being "busy." No, the truth is I didn't have anything interesting to say, so I didn't say it. Even now, I'm having trouble justifying what I just wrote, so don't get me started. (Nothing a little therapy and a six pack won't fix.)

I will have something to update soon, so stayed tuned, if that is applicable, which it isn't. Now I'm rambling, so I'll shut up now.

Until next we meet . . .

A Message For Ladies

2008-10-02T10:01:00.000-07:00

Ladies . . .

Do you have feelings of inadequacy?
Do you suffer from shyness?
Do you sometimes wish you were more assertive?

If you answered "Yes" to any of these questions, ask your doctor or pharmacist about Chardonnay.

Chardonnay is the safe, natural way to feel better and more confident about yourself and your actions. Chardonnay can help ease you out of your shyness and let you tell the world that you're ready and willing to do just about anything.

You will notice the benefits of Chardonnay almost immediately and with a regimen of regular doses you can overcome any obstacles that prevent you from living the life you want to live.

Shyness and awkwardness will be a thing of the past and you will discover many talents you never knew you had. Stop hiding and start living, with Chardonnay.

Chardonnay may not be right for everyone. Women who are pregnant or nursing should not use Chardonnay. However, women who wouldn't mind nursing or becoming pregnant are encouraged to try it.

Side effects may include dizziness, nausea, vomiting, incarceration, erotic lustfulness, loss of motor control, loss of clothing, loss of money, loss of virginity, delusions of grandeur, table dancing, headache, dehydration, dry mouth, and a desire to sing Karaoke and play all-night rounds of Strip Poker, Truth Or Dare, and Naked Twister.

Now you can be more like yourself, only louder and more giggly . . . with Chardonnay.

--
http://www.ericdalen.com

The Genie

2008-10-01T10:21:00.000-07:00

A Husband takes his wife to play her first game of golf . . . and, of course, the wife promptly whacked her first shot right through the window of the biggest house adjacent to the course.

The husband cringed, "I warned you to be careful! Now we'll have to go up there, find the owner, apologize and see how much your lousy drive is going to cost us."

So the couple walked up to the house and knocked on the door. A warm voice said, "Come on in."

When they opened the door they saw the damage that was done: glass was all over the place, and a broken antique bottle was lying on its side near the broken window.

A man in a silk robe reclining on the couch asked, "Are you the people that broke my window?"

"Uh . . . yes, sir. We're sure sorry about that," the husband replied.

"Oh, no apology is necessary. Actually I want to thank you . . . You see, I'm a Genie, and I've been trapped in that bottle for a thousand years. Now that you've released me, I'm allowed to grant three wishes. I'll give you each one wish, but if you don't mind, I'll keep the last one for myself."

"Wow, that's great!" the husband said. He pondered a moment and blurted out, "I'd like a million dollars a year for the rest of my life."

"No problem," said the Genie. "You've got it, it's the least I can do. And I'll guarantee you a long, healthy life! And now you, young lady, what do you want?"

"I'd like to own a gorgeous home complete with servants in every country in the world," she said.

"Consider it done," the Genie said. "And your homes will always be safe from fire, burglary and natural disasters!"

"And now," the couple asked in unison, "what's your wish, Genie?"

"Well, since I've been trapped in that bottle and haven't been with a woman in more than a thousand years, my wish is to be with your wife."

The husband looked at his wife and said, "Gee, honey, you know we both now have a fortune, and all those houses. What do you think?"

She mulled it over for a few moments and said, "You know, you're right. Considering our good fortune, I guess I wouldn't mind -- but what about you, honey?"

"You know I love you, sweetheart," said the husband. "And I'd do the same for you!"

So the Genie and the woman went upstairs where they spent the rest of the afternoon. Near dusk, the genie took the woman's hand, looked directly into her eyes and asked:

"So, how old are you and your husband?"

"We're both thirty-five," she responded.

"Really?" he said. "Thirty-five years old and both of you still believe in genies?"

-----

http://www.ericdalen.com

Postcard for Women . . . 2

2008-09-05T10:23:00.000-07:00

A Postcard for Women . . . 1

2008-09-04T15:52:00.000-07:00

My New Role

2008-08-02T11:04:00.000-07:00

I don't know if you know this, but there's this thing you can do where you pretend to be something you're not. Now I know a lot of people do this already, such as the inadequate middle-aged man in the red sports car pretending to be adequate, but this is more along the lines of public performance. You might even call it theater of the real, where you are the actor, taking on a role.

The first time I did this, I decided to be a member of the parking lot police. I don't know if there is such a thing, but there should be. So, I went to the nearest shopping center and parked in such a way that I had a good view of the handicapped spaces. Then, when someone parked in one, I would approach them and first check to make sure they had the proper placard. There are handicapped people who, for some reason, leave it at home. Maybe they use it at the kitchen table to get the good spot, closest to the bathroom.

Anyway, after noticing the appropriate placard, I then tap on the window and ask for their infirmity. They usually appear quite puzzled at this, but most are generally forthcoming, saying they've had hip replacement surgery or have a back injury which impairs them. Sometimes, if the person is not cooperative, I may ask for a demonstration. I suggest the best manner for this is a brief square dance. They usually refuse, which is their right, but if they appear on the young and sprightly side, I may insist. I usually defer to older people because, let's face it, they get cranky and may hit me. You may think the young and sprightly crowd may also assault an officer of the parking lot police, but they usually just run. And I let them, knowing that, someday, they must return.

One woman said her infirmity was migraine headaches, and that driving around trying to find a good parking space usually triggered them. This was a plausible explanation, but one not truly worthy of a handicapped spot. Another man tried to convince me he had epilepsy, which condoned his use of a parking space without the proper placard. I nearly bought the excuse, until I realized that if his condition was so pronounced that he required a special parking space, that he really shouldn't be driving. So, I called him a cab and had his car towed.

There are times when the people would confront me, and say there is no such thing as the parking lot police. And this, of course, is where the acting talent comes in. One lady, in particular, pointed out my lack of uniform. I explained that if I was in uniform, she wouldn't have parked there, and she countered that my lack of proper employment attire was tantamount to entrapment since the lack of police presence in any situation allows implicitly for the breaking of the rules, if one so desires. I countered that the tree which falls in the woods has still fallen in the woods, and the argument as to whether it made a sound is a deflection of the real issue, especially for the poor tree. This seemed to placate her, and she moved her vehicle.

I have also performed these duties in my "off" hours, such as going out to dinner with my wife and spying a citizen using the handicapped space when it might not have been entirely appropriate. The last time, at Sizzler, a man in his early 50's got out of his sedan and I noticed he had a slight limp. We followed him into the restaurant, and while waiting in line, I introduced myself (well, my stage name) and said I was an off-duty member of the parking lot police. I told him he should be more considerate to people who had "real" infirmities and maybe he shouldn't be such a baby. Walk it off, I told him. He did not appreciate this, and began loudly telling me that he had several vertebrae that were fused together in his back, and that he was lucky to be walking at all. I agreed, but added that parking another twenty feet away wouldn't kill him.

It was at this point my wife left, and, unfortunately, it was one of the times she brought her keys with her. I have since stopped playing parking lot policeman, though I do practice my knowing and, might I say, dirty looks at violators. This is a compromise with my wife, who tolerates this, but suggests that when I make those faces, I appear constipated. I may decide on a new role for the future, and any suggestions would be appreciated.

The Perspective Perspective

2008-07-21T15:50:00.000-07:00

I received a novel recently that was pretty much written, except I was hired to "fix it up." I like this kind of work because it's kind of like redecorating a house -- I've got the basic foundation and architecture, and get to move the furniture around. Or better yet, buy new furniture.

In this case, the basic text was . . . um . . . rudimentary. One of the many problems I encountered was a fluctuating change of perspective. For example, in one paragraph, Meredith would think "Maybe Sam is stealing from me." And in the next paragraph, Sam would consider having dinner at IHOP.

There is no way to fix this except to excise the extra bit of inner thought.

Whose story is it, anyway?

I understand why some writers make this mistake -- they believe omniscient means they can flutter from one character's brain to the next because, like God, they can. They fail to consider that it A) confuses the reader, B) doesn't make for an interesting story, and C) is just plain bad writing.

I just want to calmly set this writer down and say "Would you write something like 'I walked into the kitchen and my husband thought "I've got to buy some powder for my jock itch."'?"

"Of course not. How would the wife know what the husband is thinking?"

"Then why did you do that in this passage between Meredith and Sam?"

"Um, well, it's third person."

"Um, so? The same rule applies."

"Really?" this other author says, and then gives me a 25% bonus for my insightful insight.

On the other hand, if I teach them how to avoid these mistakes, I'll eventually not be needed to help them out anymore.

Silence = career security?

Know Thy Character

2008-07-18T21:29:00.000-07:00

I had turned in a chapter on a project and a few days later, I got an email asking why I did a certain thing in a certain way in a particular paragraph. It wasn't asked in a mean, bad or impolite way, but it made me stop and ask myself "Why did I do that?"

My answer was two-fold, and it's interesting of what I consider to be essential to the bigger picture.

The basic situation was a minor character (police officer) said "We found the bullet" and the main character (the detective) said "Cool."

I did it because, although it seemed jarring -- or flippant at the very least -- it was consistent with the character. Another detective might have only nodded, or said "Okay." But this one said "Cool" because . . . well, that is what they would say.
The second part of my answer would be internal, not one I'd include in my email reply . . . and that would be that all of this is somewhat second nature to me. I don't sit around for an hour and think, debate, consider or re-consider how a character is going to reply, react or not react. I automatically know how the character will behave because I really know that character.

In another project in which I was "fixing" someone else's manuscript, the character was a bit of a grouse. So when the author had the character answer the phone "Hello?", I changed it to a snarky "What." When the author asked me about it, I said "Do you really think Oscar the Grouch would be polite enough to say 'Hello?'"

The response I got back was "Well, maybe not, but he wouldn't say 'What'."

"Then what would he say?"

I then explained the character's state of mind -- he'd been through some nasty events over the last 24 hours, was short on sleep, was hungry, had just gotten home, and wants nothing more than to take a shower, eat a sandwich and climb into bed . . . when the phone rings.

The bottom line is, know thy character. It makes everything go much smoother, and a little quicker.

Styx and Boston

2008-07-03T07:33:00.000-07:00

Got to catch Styx and Boston at the Gibson Amphitheater (formerly Universal). I went in as a good Boston fan and mediocre Styx fan -- but Styx won me over. Fun, not all the hits (what? No "Lady"?) but a great selection in about 90 minutes. I think there were only two Dennis DeYoung songs included ("Grand Illusion" and "Come Sail Away") but that meant it was more rock n roll instead of a Broadway show.

Hard to believe Tommy Shaw is 54. He still looks 25. Maybe it's the long hair, that he's still called "Tommy" and his four feet tall. But a terrific guitarist -- and his songs rocked.

Boston was fun too, though I have to say some things didn't quite work. Some of the guitar solos using harmonics sounded out of whack to me. But the band was tight, the playing top-notch and they rocked. There was one song (which I hadn't heard before) that was quite long that bordered on heavy metal. I half-expected Black Sabbath to walk out and join in -- but it was good.

Tom Scholtz is a great guitarist, but also apparently a huge geek. Not in a bad way because I think it made the show. Guitar geek -- is that a new category?

A Chapter A Day Keeps The Devil Away

2008-06-12T10:31:00.000-07:00

I used to have a 50-mile commute, one-way, between home and downtown L.A. Average travel time: 90 minutes each way, or 3 hours a day. Needless to say, I became hooked on audio books.

One day, I thought I could put the time to use by listening to The Bible. I should blow through that book in a few weeks.

Shopping around, I discovered there were several versions of The Bible on audio. I ended up with the one read by Toby MacGuire. You may laugh, but you haven't really experienced the Holy Book unless you've heard Genesis as told by Spiderman.

"In the beginning, there was nothing, and it was good. Then, God said 'Let there be light.' And there was, and it was good. There was still nothing, but now you could see it."

The reason I bring this up, is that as good as it was on audio, I still found I did not absorb as much listening as I did by physically reading, but I had fewer cramps from the weight of holding that huge book. (I recently slimmed down from the 9.2 pound version to a svelte 5.4 pound one. I also got the one with the words of Jesus printed in red so I could skip to the good parts.)

Now we all know that there are sections of the Bible which are, shall we say, less exciting than others. Let's face it, sometimes I might be reading a section that would put The Pope to sleep, but I struggle through, knowing I'm a better man because of it. My pastor claims to have read the Good Book several times, and I completely believe him when I walked in on him with his eyes closed and he said he was only "contemplating what I read." I've done that a lot myself, though usually in the Old Testament. Apparently, Deutoronomy has a lot to contemplate as I've yet to finish it.

Anyway, I want to encourage you to read The Bible in the translation of your choice. For some, the King James Version (with its "for where thou art whatnots") is the only way to go, while those of us with slightly lower IQ's prefer the text in English.

For anyone with a lot of time on their hands, I might suggest acting out some of the more interesting parts, though you may want to skip the sections where a biblical character slays 600 people, or someone practices homosexuality and God smites them. (Smote them?) Instead, you could spend 40 days in the desert with only crackers and a whiny voice. Run around naked in a garden eating apples. Pretend you're John the Baptist and dunk people. When you take on the role of Jesus, look folks in the eye and say "I know what you're thinking -- now stop it."

The Bible can be an exciting, moving, challenging manuscript that can either lift your mind, soul and life to new, unbelievable heights, or explain in no uncertain terms why you are going to hell. (Fortunately, it has instructions on getting out of that one -- kind of a holy get-out-of-hell free card.) And if you decide to go audio, I'd recommend Gregory Peck, James Earl Jones or Charleton Heston. Don't get me wrong, I like Toby, but . . . maybe he should stick to movie scripts.

http://www.ericdalen.com/

Change Comes To America

2008-06-12T10:22:00.000-07:00

This has been credited to John Cleese, but I do not know if it is correct. Nevertheless, it's clever, though I wouldn't say, exactly, that I approve of the contents.

To: The citizens of the United States of America:

In light of your failure to nominate competent candidates for President of the USA and thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective immediately.

Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchical duties over all states, commonwealths, and territories (except Kansas, which she does not fancy).

Your new prime minister, Gordon Brown, will appoint a governor for America without the need for further elections.

Congress and the Senate will be disbanded. A questionnaire may be circulated next year to determine whether any of you noticed.

To aid in the transition to a British Crown Dependency, the following rules are introduced with immediate effect:

(You should look up 'revocation' in the Oxford English Dictionary.)

1. Look up the word aluminium, and check the pronunciation guide. You will be amazed at just how wrongly you have been pronouncing it.

2. The letter 'U' will be reinstated in words such as 'favour' and 'neighbour.' Likewise, you will learn to spell 'doughnut' without skipping half the letters, and the suffix '-ize' will be replaced by the suffix '-ise'.

Generally, you will be expected to raise your vocabulary to acceptable levels. (Look up 'vocabulary'.)

3. Using the same twenty-seven words interspersed with filler noises such as 'like' and 'you know' is an unacceptable and inefficient form of communication.

There is no such thing as US English. We will let Microsoft know on your behalf. The Microsoft spell-checker will be adjusted to take account of the reinstated letter 'u' and the elimination of '-ize'. You will re-learn your original national anthem, God Save The Queen.

4. July 4th will no longer be celebrated as a holiday.

5. You will learn to resolve personal issues without using guns, lawyers, or therapists. The fact that you need so many lawyers and therapists shows that you're not adult enough to be independent.

Guns should only be handled by adults. If you're not adult enough to sort things out without suing someone or speaking to a therapist then you're not grown up enough to handle a gun.

6. Therefore, you will no longer be allowed to own or carry anything more dangerous than a vegetable peeler. A permit will be required if you wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public.

7. All American cars are hereby banned. They are crap and this is for your own good. When we show you German cars, you will understand what we mean.

8. All intersections will be replaced with roundabouts, and you will start driving on the left with immediate effect. At the same time, you will go metric with immediate effect and without the benefit of conversion tables. Both roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British sense of humour.

9. The Former USA will adopt UK prices on petrol (which you have been calling gasoline) -- roughly $9.00/US gallon. Get used to it.

10. You will learn to make real chips. Those things you call French fries are not real chips, and those things you insist on calling potato chips are properly called crisps. Real chips are thick cut, fried in animal fat, and dressed not with catsup but with vinegar.

11. The cold tasteless stuff you insist on calling beer is not actually beer at all. Henceforth, only proper British Bitter will be referred to as beer, and European brews of known and accepted provenance will be referred to as Lager.

South African beer is also acceptable as South Africans are pound for pound the greatest sporting Nation on earth and it can only be due to the beer. They are also part of British Commonwealth -- see what it did for them.

12. Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast English actors as good guys. Hollywood will also be required to cast English actors to play English characters.

Watching Andie Macdowell attempt English dialogue in Four Weddings and a Funeral was an experience akin to having one's ears removed with a cheese grater.

13. You will cease playing American football. There is only one kind of proper football; you call it soccer. Those of you brave enough will, in time, be allowed to play rugby (which has some similarities to American football, but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full kevlar body armour like a bunch of nancies). Don't try Rugby -- the South Africans and Kiwis will thrash you, like they regularly thrash us.

No more Orange Bowl, Rose Bowl, Cereal Bowl or Super Bowl. From now on, get used to the World Cup.

14. Further, you will stop playing baseball. It is not reasonable to host an event called the World Series for a game which is not played outside of America. Since only 2.1% of you are aware that there is a world beyond your borders, your error is understandable. You will learn cricket, and we will let you face the South Africans first to take the sting out of their deliveries.

15. You must tell us who killed JFK. It's been driving us mad.

16. An internal revenue agent (i.e. tax collector) from Her Majesty's Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all monies due (backdated to 1776).

17. Daily Tea Time begins promptly at 4 PM with proper cups, never mugs, with high quality biscuits (cookies) and cakes; strawberries whence in season.

God save the Queen.

--

http://www.ericdalen.com/

Phone Sex

2008-06-10T10:15:00.000-07:00

Toni Milton, 38, mistakenly dialled Neil O'Brien's number on her mobile phone while she was making love to her ex-boyfriend, a court heard.

O'Brien, 41, said the sound of his girlfriend having relations with another man caused him to flip out. He drove to her house and stamped on her face so hard he left a shoeprint, Leicester crown court heard.

He was jailed for 15 months after a judge said even the "unusual circumstances" of the incident would not save him from prison. Miss Milton only realised she had accidentally pressed the redial button on her mobile phone when she heard O'Brien shouting at her down the line. When she picked up the phone, O'Brien said: "I take it we're finished then?"

The court heard the couple had been together for six months, but the relationship had hit a rocky patch. When O'Brien went to stay with his parents in Exhall, Coventry, Miss Milton invited an ex-boyfriend to her home in Barwell, Leicestershire.

John Hallissey, prosecuting, said: "It appears that while they were in bed together - and it is relevant that they were having sex - her mobile phone was knocked on to the floor.

"It landed in such a way that it dialled O'Brien's number. The first she knew of what had happened was when she heard him shouting her name."

O'Brien, who has previous convictions for violence, including grievous bodily harm, admitted a charge of assault causing actual bodily harm.

The Three Girls at Best Buy

2008-05-23T11:30:00.000-07:00

Here's a link to a video featuring three girls shopping for satellite radio. Hilarity ensues as someone tries to get in on the act.

http://view.break.com/506192

No need to turn up the sound . . . there is none.

Is He On Drugs?

2008-05-15T10:40:00.000-07:00

The Odd Sell

2008-05-13T09:30:00.000-07:00

We've heard of the "soft sell", and the "hard sell", but I'm trying to figure out what kind of "sell" this is.

This is a photo from an Abercrombie & Fitch email I received.

Although it looks cut off, that's the whole picture. Are they selling teeth or nipples? Certainly not clothes because he is apparently not wearing any. Or maybe they are suggesting that if you buy their clothes it will cover up the fact that you don't look like him without them. Or something like that.

Remember when advertisers used to sell "sex appeal"? Now they just sell sex. And in this case, at least from my heterosexual viewpoint, they've even dropped that. Now it's just sexless naked smiling bland guys.

Yeah, makes me want to shop there.

-- Eric / www.ericdalen.com

No More "Hat Hair"

2008-05-12T14:49:00.000-07:00

Stolen from the Internet by:

Eric Dalen

http://www.ericdalen.com

A Campaign Idea

2008-05-07T09:24:00.000-07:00

by Eric Dalen -- http://www.ericdalen.com/

The election was all over the news again today. (Yawn.)

I think the British have it right. They only campaign for 90 days. Ours is 90 weeks.

There have been talks of reform, and I can imagine the lobbyists hiring the Viagra people to do the ad campaign:

"Contact your representative immediately if you have an election lasting more than four months . . . "

LA Times Festival of Books

2008-05-02T09:42:00.000-07:00

If you were wondering what I did on the weekend of April 26 and 27, 2008 (and I know you were), Izzie and I attended the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books at UCLA.

I only took four pictures . . . here they are, with commentary . . .

I don't know the woman on the right, but she apparently wanted to be in my photo very badly. Her one shot at fame, and she failed to pass along her identity. Don't let this happen to you!

What you don't see: Just to Mr. Bradbury's right is a hot dog and fries. (He likes relish.)

This fuzzy person is Valerie Bertinelli just after her talk about her book, Losing It. The woman on the right who looks like she's going to Lose It and conk somebody on the head with the microphone is Amy Something-Or-Other -- she was the one who did the interview with Valerie. Maybe she was upset because no one remembered her name.

By the way, I am standing in the press pit with my cell phone camera. My media colleagues were impressed.

This is Val again (we're on a first-name basis) and by now she has shed her fuzz. That, or I'm getting better at this photography thing. She is chatting with Isabella about their favorite Van Halen concert. Valerie thought Dallas, 1982 was the best; Izzie chose Los Angeles 1984 because that was the only VH concert she still somewhat remembered.

Izzie sat in on talks with her bud Val, California first lady Maria Shriver, baseball great Steve Garvey, and some guy from ESPN she doesn't know (and still can't remember his name) but he was on "Dancing With The Stars" so that made it okay. These talks were all outside where the temperature was between 98 and hell. The talks I attended were in air conditioned splendor with people you never heard of. Guess which of us ended up in the better mood.

(Okay, I fibbed about the talks being with people you've never heard of . . . I'm sure Peter Robinson, Stuart Woods, Stephen J. Cannell, Christopher Rice, April Smith, the Doodlebops, Dick Lochte, Michael Connelly*, Walter Mosely*, Robert Crais*, Harlen Coben*, Joseph Wambaugh*, Denise Hamilton all ring a bell.) (I threw the Doodlebops in there to make sure you're paying attention.) (Didn't actually see the authors marked *, but it wasn't for lack of trying.) (If anyone dares think I'm simply a name-dropper, I left off Leonard Maltin, Mary Higgins Clark, TC Boyle, Mike Farrell, Cheech Marin, Jane Smiley, Marlee Matlin, Gay Talese, and, of course, Henry Winkler. That would have been name-dropping!)

We finished up by seeing Julie Andrews at Royce Hall, where it was well-lit and temperature-controlled. I would have taken pictures of Julie, except we were in the middle of the hall, and she looked like an ant in a lovely sea foam green dress. Julie taught us some dance moves, said Robert Goulet had wonderful legs, Walt Disney had twinkly eyes, and Rex Harrison had flatulence issues. I am not making that up. I would never slander a dead movie star legend unless Mary Poppins slandered them first. Besides, I always thought Robert Goulet's mustache was more fascinating than his legs, but that's just me.

If you've ever been to UCLA, you know they built it on a series of mountains. They call them "hills" but once you're done climbing them, you feel like you need an award and a mention on NBC Nightly News. (Add to this the blow-torch effects of the sun, and it's amazing we didn't end up on NBC Nightly News for a completely different reason.) The odd thing is they put the parking lots at the bottom of the "hills" so by the time you get anywhere, you're too tired to do anything and want to go home. I collapsed next to a long-distance runner training for the China Olympics. (They had a special collapsing area, sponsored by Borders. As you lay on the ground, trying to catch your breath, perky red-shirted Borders employees passed out 20% off coupons.) At least getting back to the car was relatively easier since tumbling down the hills is less difficult than going up them, though the grass burns and twisted ankles tend to take all the fun out of it.

I'm off to do laundry. Grass stains are such a pain.

-- Eric / http://www.ericdalen.com/

Ugly Is The New 20

2008-03-26T15:08:00.000-07:00

There's a new study that says happy marriages generally feature less attractive men.

Being happily married, I'm not sure how I should take that.

<--- Not me. But he should be quite happy indeed.

What? Can't I wish him a happy life?

The New MPG

2008-03-24T15:05:00.000-07:00

A recent study found the average American golfer walks about 900 miles a year.

Another study found American golfers drink, on average, 22 gallons of alcohol a year.

That means American golfers get about 41 miles to the gallon.

Kind of makes you proud.

I Got A New WHAT?

2008-03-20T16:15:00.000-07:00

A German retiree is taking a hospital to court after she went in for a leg operation and got a new anus instead, the Daily Telegraph is reporting.

The woman woke up to find she had been mixed up with another patient suffering from incontinence who was to have surgery on her sphincter.

The clinic in Hochfranken, Bavaria, has since suspended the surgical team.

Now the woman is planning to sue the hospital. She still needs the leg operation and is searching for another hospital to do it.

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,339270,00.html

Stealing The Net

2008-03-04T14:53:00.000-08:00

I knew I wasn't crazy.

I had an old D-Link wireless router that worked, although my laptop would drop its signal every five minutes or so. I didn't think it was my laptop since the signal wouldn't drop at other locations, only at home.

I suspected a thief.

Yes, I wondered if one of my neighbors was "borrowing" my wireless signal for their own surfing.

I had security set up, but when my main computer's Internet started slowing down, I reset the router and started fresh. Speed picked up -- zooming! -- and the laptop stopped dropping connections so much. For about a week. Then things slowed down, and signals got dropped.

Fed up, I went and bought a new wireless router. I got it all set up, and it came with this software to get everything connected. It all worked!

I went downstairs and was working on the laptop when the signal started falling off.

I went upstairs, and lo and behold, there was a message on my screen. "A new device has been added. Do you want to view it?"

Yes. Yes, I do.

When I clicked YES it showed my desktop computer, my laptop computer, and some other computer that I did not own, and certainly did not authorize.

I double-checked security. Yes, it was enabled. The password was some indecipherable mash-up of letters and numbers -- something like jKr576Dgssl9Osjw or whatever.

Someone was on my system.

So I unplugged it.

Then I did a little research. How can I keep the bugger out?

The answer came in something called a MAC address. Each computer has its own MAC address. So, I plugged everything back in, entered the MAC address for the laptop and told the router to ONLY allow that MAC address access.

It's been three days. I just checked, and there's no one else on my system.

Hee hee hee. I defeated the hacker. I only wish I knew who the little thief was so I could let the air out of his tires too. (Not really, but I have strange fantasies like that.)

Overheard: Advice

2008-02-21T16:00:00.000-08:00

If you want to be stupid, sew on a wiener.

If you already have one, welcome.

If it's not that bad, then you do it.

2008-01-24T15:25:00.000-08:00

"Oh, I would never do that! They pee out of that thing, you know!"

I'll Become A Millionaire

2007-11-21T12:48:00.000-08:00

A friend and I are going into business together to market a manic-depressive teddy bear.

It’s called the Bi-Polar Bear.

It only comes in white, and likes both boy bears and girl bears.

Elephant Story

2007-05-18T16:41:00.000-07:00

In 1986, Mkele Mbembe was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University. On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Mbembe approached it very carefully. He got down on one knee and inspected the elephant's foot and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it.

As carefully and as gently as he could, Mbembe worked the wood out with his hunting knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot. The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments. Mbembe stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away.

Mbembe never forgot that elephant or the events of that day. Twenty years later, Mbembe was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenaged son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Mbembe and his son Tapu were standing. The large bull elephant stared at Mbembe, lifted its front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.

Remembering the encounter in 1986, Mbembe couldn't help wondering if this was the same elephant.

Mbembe summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Mbembe's legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly.

Probably wasn't the same elephant.
--

Um, Who's The Victim?

2007-03-28T12:25:00.000-07:00

Wynonna Judd's estranged husband, a dork named Dan Roach, molests an underage girl, and somehow WYNONNA is the victim.

"I am obviously devastated," the 42-year-old country singer said in a statement on her Web site. "Our family will pull together, begin the healing process and hopefully -- by the Grace of God -- become stronger. We will move forward with our faith, family and our our friends to find resolution to this difficult situation."

They probably should just change the definition in the dictionary of "celebrity" to "self-centered, egotistical, narcissistic, greedy goofballs who can't see much farther than their own mirror."

______________________________

Updated Terrorist Alert

2007-03-24T13:36:00.000-07:00

The English are feeling the pinch in relation to recent terrorist threats and have raised their security level from "Miffed" to "Peeved." Soon, though, security levels may be raised yet again to "Irritated" or even "A Bit Cross." Londoners have not been "A Bit Cross" since the blitz in 1940 when tea supplies all but ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from "Tiresome" to a "Bloody Nuisance." The last time the British issued a Bloody Nuisance" warning level was during the great fire of 1666.

Also, the French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from "Run" to "Hide." The only two higher levels in France are "Surrender" and "Collaborate." The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France's white flag factory, effectively paralyzing the country's military capability.

It's not only the English and French that are on a heightened level of alert. Italy has increased the alert level from "Shout Loudly and Excitedly" to "Elaborate Military Posturing." Two more levels remain: "Ineffective Combat Operations" and "Change Sides."

Germans also increased their alert state from "Disdainful Arrogance" to "Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs." They also have two higher levels: "Invade a Neighbor" and "Lose."

Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual, and the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels.

The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy.
These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy
can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy.

______________________________

MIA

2007-03-22T09:48:00.000-07:00

When I was single, I used to go missing a lot. Miss Vermont, Miss Arizona, Miss South Carolina . . .

______________________________

You Can't Make This Stuff Up #32

2007-03-21T15:32:00.000-07:00

Imagine this . . . you're sitting in your First Class seat, which you actually paid for (no frequent flyer miles) and doze off somewhere over the Atlantic. When you wake up, you find the previously unoccupied seat next to you is now partially filled with a corpse, which has slipped off the seat and is lolling half on the floor and half still buckled in.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/17683917/

Come fly the friendly skies.

______________________________

Why Athletes Can't Have Real Jobs

2007-03-09T09:20:00.000-08:00

Chicago Cubs outfielder Andre Dawson on being a role model: "I wan' all dem kids to do what I do, to look up to me. I wan' all the kids to copulate me."

New Orleans Saint RB George Rogers when asked about the upcoming season: "I want to rush for 1,000 or 1,500 yards, whichever comes first."

Upon hearing Joe Jacobi of the 'Skins say: "I'd run over my own mother to win the Super Bowl," Matt Millen of the Raiders said: "To win, I'd run over Joe's Mom, too."

Torrin Polk, University of Houston receiver, on his coach, John Jenkins: "He treats us like men. He lets us wear earrings."

Football commentator and former player Joe Theismann, 1996: "Nobody in football should be called a genius. A genius is a guy like Norman Einstein."

Senior basketball player at the University of Pittsburgh : "I'm going to graduate on time, no matter how long it takes."

Bill Peterson, a Florida State football coach: "You guys line up alphabetically by height."And, "You guys pair up in groups of three, then line up in a circle."

Boxing promoter Dan Duva on Mike Tyson hooking up again with promoter Don King: "Why would anyone expect him to come out smarter? He went to prison for three years, not Princeton."

Stu Grimson, Chicago Blackhawk's left wing, explaining why he keeps a color photo of himself above his locker: "That's so when I forget how to spell my name, I can still find my clothes."

Lou Duva, veteran boxing trainer, on the Spartan training regimen of heavyweight Andrew Golota: "He's a guy who gets up at six o'clock in the morning regardless of what time it is."

Chuck Nevitt, North Carolina State basketball player, explaining to Coach Jim Valvano why he appeared nervous at practice: "My sister's expecting a baby, and I don't know if I'm going to be an uncle or an aunt."

Frank Layden, Utah Jazz president, on a former player: "I told him, 'Son, what is it with you? Is it ignorance or apathy?' He said, 'Coach, I don't know and I don't care.'"

Shelby Metcalf, basketball coach at Texas A&M, recounting what he told a player who received four F's and one D: "Son, looks to me like you're spending too much time on one subject."

________________________________________

Well, Never In My Life!

2007-03-05T07:51:00.000-08:00

I'm not understanding why the presidential campaign is starting more than 18 months before the election. Dorks. It's not even worth thinking about right now. There are more important things for us to do and think about and eat. (Sorry, I'm hungry.) So, not only do I not care, but I'm not going to pay attention.

Who's running? I don't know.

Who said what about whom? It doesn't matter. And not only does it not matter . . . yet . . . I'm ignoring it, unless it is juicy, and then I'll be all over it like a dog on a steak. (Sorry, again.)

Hypocrite? Absolutely not. Or maybe.