Bazamatazz!

and for Northern California WWDTM people, announced yesterday 2 recordings, February 19 and 20, 2009, Zellerbach Hall, Berkeley. Single Tickets on sale August 10.

Tom in Santa Clara, I have put up a reminder to self for those tickets…

Wait a minute! Look at the top photo! What do you see? OK, sure - a cute kid, but look in the background. Is that a pool? Three days ago Adam is thinking about putting in a pool, and now he has one? How did that happen so quickly? Don’t they require building permits and environmental impact statements in La La Land? Oh, I see - you don’t need no stinking permits. And, of course, we know from your ad what you think about the environment. OK, fair enough. I just hope you checked the green cards for the dozens of “construction workers” who dug the hole for your pool by hand, in the blazing midday sun.

(Oh, and did you put in the hot tub, too?)

Infinks are tiny. Moms insist on that, I think.

Adam, You guys have the same hair! Did you plan that? Maybe you should get a fonzie shirt to match his.

Zee Man, you fool! Do not taunt the mighty and powerful Adam Felber! Re-read what he said:

I’m thinking of putting in a swimming pool.

Don’t you see? He put in that swimming pool himself just by thinking about it! If such a power has been passed on to his son, all shall kneel before the mighty Felbers!

Awwww, what a cute kid! Though, Adam, if that Fonz 8″ Poseable Action Figure is vintage, you might want to use it to make a down payment on Baz’s college tuition! On the other hand, I’m sure he’ll be getting multiple full tuition scholarships for Writing, Solar Engineering, and Kickboxing.

oooooooooooooooo. Finally. Fourfold cute for us. May cute and goodness come back to you eightfold. Thanx to all three of you.

Happy Mayday Comrades!
Which FanApper posted the all the lyrics to “The Red Flag” at the start of the writer’s strike? I really wanted to second and praise that; I know only the first verse. But I vowed I wouldn’t post until we got the the old home computer back online. I first viewed this blog a day or two after “Concession Speech” (that gem will make you a FanApper for life), and posted quite happily until our isp connection died in March of ‘05. We didn’t get back online until February ‘08, and, oh so many times, whilst lurking every working day, I wanted to comment on great stuff like all the words to “The Red Flag.”

Adam, you gotta be careful with the Grand Theft Auto at his age. I see his eyes are glazing over. That means he’s had too much. You gotta limit play to no more than 3 hrs a day until he’s passed 24 months, when it can become his permanent babysitter.

Sally, it was probably me, SeattleDan, the old socialist, who posted The Red Flag. I hope everyone celebrated in a big way! The lyrics go (and is sung to the tune of O! Tannenbaum)

The people’s flag is deepest red,
It shrouded oft our martyr’d dead
And ere their limbs grew stiff and cold,
Their hearts’ blood dyed its ev’ry fold.

Then raise the scarlet standard high,
Within its shade we’ll live and die,
Though cowards flinch and traitors sneer,
We’ll keep the red flag flying here.

Look round, the Frenchman loves its blaze,
The sturdy German chants its praise,
In Moscow’s vaults its hymns are sung,
Chicago swells the surging throng.

It waved above our infant might
When all ahead seemed dark as night;
It witnessed many a deed and vow,
We must not change its colour now.

It well recalls the triumphs past;
It gives the hope of peace at last:
The banner bright, the symbol plain,
Of human right and human gain.

It suits today the meek and base,
Whose minds are fixed on pelf and place,
To cringe before the rich man’s frown
And haul the sacred emblem down.

With heads uncovered swear we all
To bear it onward till we fall.
Come dungeon dark or gallows grim,
This song shall be our parting hymn.

Adam, I think I detect some photoshopping. There is no way in hell that you look sleep-deprived enough to be a new parent.

He is wonderful. You (plural) did good.

And while I’m waiting, here’s a great calculator to figure out how much you’d save during the “gas tax holiday”. I’d save $9.20. North Carolina would lose over $203 million.

This
makes
no
sense.

I was awakened by the Swiss Guards sometime in the middle of the night and hustled off to an exorcism. Apparently, the fake Pope was off his feed and not performing well. Cardinal Anselmo seems to be running the show these days; Franco Zefferelli was nowhere to be seen. I was immediately pressed into service and did a remarkable job right up to the point of twisting lurker Jon’s head all the way around, but my powers failed me and I could only twist him half way. I miss Father Guido and his friend Vincente, whose unusual talents were needed to finish the deal. I was returned to my cell in the catacombs, but somewhat more encouraged about my future.

The mechanics at Thule apparently fixed the #3 engine, at least enough to where it no longer burst into flames. We made it as far as Bosnia-Herzegovina when the air traffic controller in Italy refused to let us land in Rome. The Russian pilot assured us it was a small misunderstanding and would be ironed out quickly. In the meantime, we spiraled down into a landing at Tuzla Airport. The flight attendant suggested that we put on a helmet, disembark through the back door of the plane and run in a serpentine manner to the bulletproof vehicles parked by the runway, dive into the back seat and pray none of the snipers put a slug through our brain. To begin with, I can no longer run. Actually, I’m used to being carried and was certainly in no condition to prolong the trip to the vehicles by zig-zagging. I put back on my Papal ring, prayed to the All-mighty (purely for show, I assure you) and walked to the car. No bullets. No snipers. Apparently, some baseless urban legend, ginned up for the American presidential race. Once in the back seat of the car, I looked back at the plane and noticed the pilots and flight attendants were laughing and slapping each other on the back. I felt good about the flight crew, that they could enjoy such a joke. There is so little that is funny coming out of Russia these days.

I don’t know what meat we had for supper, but upon reflection these many days later, I am amazed to recall there did not seem to be a rat problem at the hanger or the diner. So unlike Bosnia to be without a rodent infestation. I wonder where all the rats were…

keep the pics coming!

David, the link’s off-topic for the main FanAp page topic, but not at all off-topic for the recent “Mission Accomplished” anniversary coverage we’ve been enduring. Mapes is spot-on. As was whoever said, at the time of the photo op, that the photos just remind one of Ham the chimp astronaut. (Spot-on, funny, but unfair to respectable chimps.)

Or that last post could’ve have really been done by me.

Oh well, end at snø, I guess. But no matter end at ice. I bust my butt on steps today! I’ve was not getting any to look forward to now but season of black flies. Uffdah!

Fanny! Why didn’t you take out UWcrz? Of course, stupid me, I clicked on the author looking for insight into what the file might be. Hopefully, I haven’t been infected by something.

Thanks for taking that bullet for us, Chris.

5-04-2008

Dear Diary,

Patricia would say I’ve been up to no good. Of course, she always says that when I come up with one of my great ideas. I’ve been hard at work, behind the scenes, and I’d hoped to slip this one by the masses, however, Keith Olbermann flushed me out the other day on the segment of his show he calls “Bushed” - some of the fifty current scandals of the Bush Administration. I certainly don’t see this as a scandal, but I’m from the Wild West and beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I guess.

My idea was to make it legal to carry loaded firearms inside the National Parks and Wildlife Refuges. A great idea, right? Come on, what’s the harm? I have it on good authority that Mexico is organizing to ask for all it’s land back that it lost to the United States during it’s various wars with us. My source tells me that would put the new border with Mexico somewhere near Boise. I figure that a smart man plans ahead and I’m just looking to protect my native State from invasion.

Mildred says either I retire or she’s going to retire. I guess she sees a flaw in my logic, though I can’t imagine what would be upsetting her so. I’ll order some more beignets from New Orleans tomorrow. That should calm her down.

BTW, the photo that Keith used makes my head look warped. If one of his producers had just called me, I could have given them a much better one to use for their national broadcast. Unless they used that particular photo on purpose…

Dirk