C'mon now.

The world just got a little more pretentious.

Nutso on Cable

Dude's on TV talking about how one of the prophets was cured of leprosy via hydrotherapy in seven days, and now he has a product he's selling that contains clay and he outlines a seven-day regimen and therefore he calls it "The Almighty Cleanser" and he's selling holy enemas in order to cure stuff and he's telling me that I don't have to worry about, you know, the runs, and bowel disease, and he keeps talking about colons. The caption on the tv says "Is a clean colon the secret to health and vitality", and now he's talking about diseases that have a correlation to the size of my colon. This is on the channel where the religious cable shows are. The national ones. The ones you see.

"If you want to get healthy, you have to clean the colon, right?"
"That's absolutely right."
Word for word.
Now THAT's a sales pitch. On the religious channel.

Did I mention that it's The Almighty Cleanser that he's selling? Wait, maybe it's The All Mighty Cleanser. I just got that. Seriously. Not making this up. I refuse to google it. Someone else can feel free.

I'm sure it's fine to have a clean colon. I don't really have an opinion. I'm glad that God might care about this, I guess.

My point? People are freaking crazy.

I'm the one.

Haven't watched Idol.
Haven't read DaVinci.

That said, I flipped past Idol for about 3 seconds last night...really, not much longer than that...and I have to say, it looked like everyone was having fun. Someone was singing an actual song. Like a Tony Orlando song. I thought the guy was nothing special, but he wasn't horrid, and that's not even the point. People are digging music these days. I have no idea if they are digging good music or bad music, but everyone on the TV seemed genuinely happy and Paula was singing along and snapping her fingers and audience members were dancing and about 30 million people apparently agreed.

So I think it's cool that people are digging music again. Go for it. Feel free to watch for longer than 3 seconds. I don't think anyone is getting hurt that way. There are certainly worse things in the world to do with your more-than-3 seconds.

Los Alces De los Azul

In the fall of either 1989 or 1990, Teo and I got together with a few other like-minded friends and decided to form a blues ensemble for one of our required ensemble credits. We were, along with Vinnissimo, music majors at a reasonably well-regarded music school in the southeast that had some ridiculous number of music students and an also ridiculous number of ensembles. I, for instance, was once in the electric bass ensemble, which featured more low frequencies than should ever be assembled in one place. But I digress.

Our blues band was comprised of two very, very good guitarists, a remarkable keyboardist, the thundering groove machine that is (not was, but is) Teo, and me on bass. Because one of our guitarists was the sort of guy who could convince a funeral director to hire a polka band for a paying gig, we were booked for our first gig before we'd even rehearsed - and had about four days to throw together a few sets of blues tunes. One hasty rehearsal later, we were ready to play, but we had no name. After the usual time - several hours, I think - of offering goofy names that made everyone laugh, we were still at a loss. Playing off my real last name, which isn't actually "Pinata" but has a "Mc" in front of it, we decided to name the band "McBlues". We then put a "Mc" in front of everyone else's last name and took the "Mc" off of mine. Good fun.

For reasons that I can't recall, we decided to give our band a mascot. And, as everyone knows, nothing says "blues" like a moose. (Actually, I think it's that "blues" and "moose" almost rhyme and it sounded good enough for us.) Thus, the Blues Moose was born to the world.

Initially, the Blues Moose showed up on whatever poster/flyer McBlues had for upcoming gigs. However, the Blues Moose then turned into more than a mascot - he turned into a cause. And one of the guitarists penned a song called "The Blues Moose". If I recall properly:


Just a little Irish lad, growing up on Irish folk songs
But the music made him sad, and deep inside something was wrong
He heard the tales of Jimmy Page and music from the delta
But he was much to sheltered to believe

That night he had a revelation.
God told him to go down to the station.
He also said, "You must be very patient".
'Cause something big and brown was about to hit the nation.

The Blues Moose is coming to your town.
The Blues Moose is coming to your town.
The Blues Moose is coming to your town.
The Blues Moose is coming, he's coming, he's coming to your town.


There is another verse, but I can't remember it.

We played this song at Teo's recital (with a reunited McBlues) and tore the roof off the place. Much fun. I think its final playing was at my bachelor party, which was a late night jam session at Vinnissimo's house. We could barely remember the song and butchered it, but it was still a good time.

Sadly, I've just discovered - via Google - that the Blues Moose is now used as a name for a condom dispenser. And that leaves me a bit cold.

Found:



I'm a bad person if I don't provide attribution for that photo:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/bobtravis/125216638/

It's the winning logo for the "1st Annual Maine Blues Festival", Naples, Maine. Outstanding.

Teo's Nicknames, A Historical Look

Teodoro
Teds
Teddy
Theddywegs
Theddyweggery
The Evil Theddywegs
The Evil One
Eggs
FuckFace
Tadeo
The Big B
Mr. B
Boneman
Theodore
Theo

One does not give oneself nicknames. One is given nicknames, whether one approves or not.

Teo's Back

...as in, Teo is back. Not the possessive. Ew.

Am I really back? Who's to say. Certainly not me. I ran away, ate a waffle breakfast, and promptly ignored the place.

My news:

My dissertation proposal got approved, which is good news.

I'm not going to Amsterdam for the second time in three years. Well, actually, I'm not going to Amsterdam for the 37th time in 37 years if you want to be picky. But it's the 2nd time in 3 years that there was a chance. So I'll stay home and work on my afformentioned dissertation.

Which ain't so bad. I have to work my baseballs off for the next six weeks, but after that, I'll have pretty much two months to myself until my next practicum starts. Good stuff. My last summer ever before I have to work and make lots of money for the next 40 years to pay off One Big Pile Of Big Bills.

I have recently rediscovered the joy of fried chicken, which is not a good thing for the life expectency of my current waist size.

I was at school last week and saw an administrator for the first time in a few months. "Teo!" she says, "Good to see you. Hey! You've gone gray!" "Thanks," I say.

Pinata's Padres have destroyed any chance I had of watching meaningful baseball for the next 10 or 11 months. Thanks, Pinata.

My manservant Max, who parks my car, is leaving the garage for good. Although I appreciated Max, I am not unhappy about his departure, since he had taken to calling me "The Big B", which I just did not like. I've had various nicknames, most of which I have enjoyed. The Big B is not a nickname I enjoyed. Farewell, Max. Go.

And with that, I go back undercover. Maybe.

Clouds

I'm just going to continue posting my random thoughts until such a time as Teodoro pries the blog from my fingers.

In southern California, the mornings are always cloudy from about April through mid-July. The clouds always burn off by around 11am, and it never, ever rains as a result of the cloudiness. People often call it the "June gloom".

What cracks me up about it is that pretty much every day, someone will see the clouds and ask me if it is going to rain. And - once again - it never does. And I laugh every time.

Waffles, Anyone?

I'm still thinking.

As the de-facto primero Hombre, it has been nice to read the comments on the 'Adios' post, and everyone is cool and fun. And Felicity is a treasure to behold. In fact, after a phone call with Felicity (I'm pretty sure her cell phone is a mobile version of a Zsa Zsa-type french phone afixed to the Felicity DeVille), I'm tempted to keep Tres Hombres alive. I admit, I had some post ideas this week that I RESTRAINED myself from posting, due to the 'Adios' post, and Felicity would not be happy with that. Becase there is no restraint, and yet there I was.

And isn't that the problem? The Hombres are restrained, which is not the Felicity way, and maybe that's why the blog wasn't working to Hombre satisfaction. As Felicity might say, a blog cannot have the flexibility afforded by a tight fitting denim leotard. No. The blog must not have restraint.

I waffle. I wane. I am persuaded. Maybe the Hombres do have some life left.

Adios, Amigos y Amigas

Sadly, the Hombres have decided that the time for this blog has come and gone.

Teo started the B**** Blog about exactly a year ago. Last summer was (mostly) filled with some fresh, bloggy ideas. Some were funny (Flying Toast), and some were psychology driven, some were social observations, some were political, and some were miscellaneous updates on the early summer activities by the lake. We ended up having a nice cadre of 8 or 10 regular posting visitors.

In July, my new supervisor made the predictable (and correct) observation that my personal meanderings might not be the best thing to have on the web, as that type of first-person authorship could affect a therapeutic relationship. So down came the B**** Blog.

Two of the regular contributors to that blog were college buddies from back in the day. I had become accustomed to blogging and wanted to continue, and I thought it would be fun to include my boys Kev and Vin. I had been out of touch with them for quite a while, but the bond we developed in 1988 was alive and well in 2005, and the idea to group-author the blog sounded like fun. Tres Hombres went live.

Much fun was had. But a year later, the blog seems to have come to a natural end. The Hombres are all in agreement that we are glad we did it, but the current level of inspiration just doesn't seem to be there at the level needed to keep this an interesting place. So Tres Hombres will come down in a few days.

Many thanks to all of you for contributing to some real fun and interesting discussions over the past year. I'm glad we did this.

Maybe there will be another blog in the future. If there is, and you'd like me to notify you, shoot me an email or leave me a message here and I'll keep you posted. You know, literally.

Betsy, LB, DNA, DAM, Smussy, Jose Manzana, and those of you who read but did not contribute...many thanks for hanging around and making this fun.

And Felicity? There. Is. No. Restraint.

Teo

For The Renegades

Now Titans

For The Readers

Betsy's got an important post here. I haven't decided if I can do it yet. All of her points are totally right on the money, and my reluctance to do this really has nothing to do with my fondness for Deal or No Deal, which, despite my statements on her site, I don't watch very often.

Mitigating factors for May and June for Teo: three classes in 7 weeks and finishing at my practicum site. Something about a dissertation in there. I'm always tempted to watch baseball, but that will likely be the background noise for studying. Baseball...and suitcases, of course.

For the Creatives

For those of you who have ever done directed creative writing (or really any "problem-based" creative work), this is pretty funny.

I Was Wrong

I've said on many occasions that I really don't care about Spring. Summer? Sure. Fall? Absolutely. Winter? Surprisingly, yes. But Spring? Eh.

I just got off the bike. Now I understand.

Microcosm

M&Ms are inordinately more complicated these days than they ever were when I was a kid. As I recall, the complete menu of options available in the M&M world were as follows:

1. Plain
2. Peanut

Now, one can order custom colors, messages, and flavor options (milk chocolate, peanut, almond, crunch, mini, and peanut butter are among the current options). When the heck did life get so complicated?