Monday, February 27, 2017

No. No.

The fact that most of the words mentioned in this article have no meaning for me I'll attribute less to my getting old than to my always having been old. But about this Four Loko. It somehow survives strictly as a promotional giveaway, right? Because I can't wrap my brain around the idea of walking into a liquor store and buying it. At the very least I'd hope the cashier would talk me out of it.

Saturday, February 25, 2017

Oh, by the way, it hit 70 in Providence this past Friday. That's just wrong. I don't mind getting a little break from winter here and there, and when you're learning to drive there's an upside to less snow on the streets. But come on now, that's like being thrust into the middle of the year. Hopefully things will moderate a little this week.

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Ain't love grand

Just this week I started reading Art Taylor's On the Road with Del and Louise. This is Taylor's first book - he's published a bunch of short stories - and it comes from a small Dallas specialty publisher. Nonetheless, it's got a reputation already. It took a while for the library system's copy to become available. Last night a barista told me it was one of her favorite books when she saw it in my hand.

The titular couple are lovers on the road. They met when he was robbing the 7-Eleven she worked at. They tend to straddle the line, one foot on the right side of the law, the other not. He was pulling heists to pay for tuition, by the way. Their life sees them solving crimes and committing them at about the same time.

Henery Press, the publisher, specializes in mystery. This book does fall under the broad category of crime fiction. The shambolic tales defy genre expectations, though. They're marked by low-key charm and a feel for the West.

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

A time of waste

When possible I try to pick up some litter. There's a lot of it. If something is recyclable I'll hold onto it until I get home, or - as today - until I see a recycling can that's left over from the morning's trash pickup. If not I'll just drop it in the nearest receptacle.

But here's the thing: A lot of time the nearest receptacle is only a few feet from where the litter was dropped. There are times when not littering is about as easy as littering, but people still go for the latter. It's like keeping the streets and the ground beyond them clean is not just not a priority; it's not even recognized as something good.

Do we actively want to poison the planet to death and then expire while straddling its corpse? Maybe we do.

Monday, February 20, 2017

Swinging the axe

Having just turned 64 ("Will you still need me...") is Kristy Marlana Wallace, a.k.a. Poison Ivy Rorschach. A great guitarist. Hasn't been much heard from since Lux shuffled off this mortal coil. Wonder what she's up to.

Saturday, February 18, 2017


Talked to a guy tonight about the steps we'll have to take before we can explore/settle Mars. It's an interesting topic, in theory. In practice I'm not expecting to see it anytime soon.

As far as moving people there, well... The thing is, it can only have as much biodiversity as we can export from Earth. At a maximum, that's if you can somehow transport breedable samples of everything. So that's something we have to maintain here, which we should be doing anyway.

Thursday, February 16, 2017

Gathering moss

This afternoon/evening I was waiting for a bus. I got to the stop about five minutes early, by my own estimate. Buses aren't supposed to go by the stops early, but sometimes they do, so it's best to be prepared if you can.

As it happens, this one didn't run fast. I waited five minutes. Then ten. To cut to the chase, the bus I was waiting for was about twenty minutes later than I expected. So late, in fact, that another one on the same route was the next vehicle behind it. One of them was only a few minutes behind, the other much more.

I actually am not sure which is which. The one I climbed aboard was crowded, although I've seen worse. The one that had been behind but leapfrogged ahead was about empty. One of them was supposed to be there just a little before four. I don't know which was which, but one picked up almost all the passengers, myself included.

And continued to do so. The other driver could have picked up the girl at the next stop, unless - possible but unlikely - she arrived between that bus and ours. I kind of felt bad for the driver whose vehicle I was on. He's one of the genuine nice ones.