smacky and bucky

Two years ago today, I married a wonderful woman. Two years later, I love her more than I did then. In your face, space coyote! We're taking all of next week off, and just relaxing. Trying to not think about work for a while. Sleep in, do some sailing, just sit around and breathe.

We are deep into the fall season of books now. I have two at the printer, and two more to go. One author is being slow with revision, and the other group of authors wants a million changes to the pages, beyond simple corrections. Sigh. It'll all work out. Deadlines tend to put people in the mood to compromise.


Today's goofy site: Cats in Sinks. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to guess what the site is all about. I'm amazed enough people know about the site to submit images of their cats. Further proof the internet is a very strange strip mall, offering about anything you can imagine. Just be glad I'm sticking to the sunny side of the internet. The dark side is just creepy.

As a fisherman, I make a good editor. I wandered down to the dock Saturday afternoon and spied a fishing pole. I cast it a few times, getting a feel for it. After a while, I got bored not catching anything, so I said to myself, "Okay, one last time." I pulled my arm way back to cast it as far as I could. I shot my arm forward and--in slow motion--pitched forward off the dock and into the water.




I wasn't dressed for swimming.




By Sunday afternoon the contents of my wallet had dried on a towel, but my shoes were still squishy.


A bright spot in the weekend was that my wife made a fantastic Chinese meal for five people, including eggrolls made from scratch.


I read. A lot. I always have a few books sitting around I've started. I don't normally rave about whatever book I happen to be reading, but The Straw Men, the debut novel from Michael Marshall is very, very good. I don't even want to describe it, for fear of giving something away. Let's just say that if you've ever been the least bit paranoid, and thought perhaps things are not what they seem, this is the book for you. It's a straight-up thriller, and a good one. It's been out long enough for used copies to be available everywhere, so look for it. I got it on amazon.com for a penny. (Yes, a penny.)

It's the first of three books, but the second one is already out (which I also bought for a penny) and picks up three months after the events of the first novel. The final book is coming out tomorrow, so you could have all three books in your hands, based solely on Smacky's recommendation. And have I ever steered you wrong? (Or at all for that matter, which is the same as never steering you wrong, since a track record of zero is still a perfect score...)

Going to the dentist this morning to have the permanent crown put in. If I pay extra, maybe he'll kick me in the nuts too. I can't believe the amount of money this man has gotten from me, even though I supposedly have insurance!

The appointment is early enough in the morning (and hopefully painless enough) that I'll be returning to work after, rather than just going home to watch Myth Busters on Tivo.

I've been thinking about The Girl on the Bridge. It's about a woman who is thinking of committing suicide. Before she can get the courage to jump off the bridge, a man comes up and speaks to her. He is a knife thrower, and he needs an assistant... that's all I'll say about it. My wife and I saw it when we were dating, and I did a quick search and was surprised to see it was never released on DVD in America. Might have to go the Asian all-region route. The movie stars Vanessa Paradis, AKA Mrs. Johnny Depp. She was a star (movies, TV, singing) in France long before Mr. 21 Jump Street sidled up to her with his scissorhands.


UPDATE: Returned an hour and a half later, feeling like I took a sucker punch to the right side of my face. At least the total was only $51 today. As an adult, I weigh all the factors, and my pain threshold rises as the bill lowers. Is that totally crazy? I know it would hurt much worse if the bill had been $300, for example. Can other people weigh factors in this manner? Like, if he said he'd cut the price in half if he skipped the novacaine, I'd probably say "Okay, give me half an hour to get drunk and let's do it!"

We received my sister-in-law's wedding invitation yesterday. We'll be spending a weekend in NYC in October. That's going to be fun. Every time we go up there (I can count all the times on one hand) we have a long list of things to see and get to less than half of them. But we always find something else cool in the same neighborhood, so we can't complain. It's a hell of a city. I would never want to live there, but it's a blast to visit.

My other sister-in-law and her husband are coming to the river this weekend. Hopefully I'll stay off the barnacles this time. It's healing up nicely, with no puffiness. Looks like I dodged infection.

Since I've been in a horror movie mood recently, fun link of the day: Icons of Fright (and not Icons Off Right, as the link may be read!). Good DVD reviews, lots of interviews, and a (frankly kinda creepy) gallery of stars with whom he's posed, along with a helpful (anal) recount of what each person charged for a photo/autograph.

Pat Robertson is apparently allowed to say the US government should assassinate the president of Venezuela. On the other hand, a tabloid newspaper in England had to apologize and pay damages to Justin Timberlake for printing a story saying he had an affair. What's wrong with these two stories?

Does this mean if someone prints an editorial in that same paper saying the US government should kill Justin Timberlake, then that's fine?

(I can imagine the search terms leading to this post...)

During a conversation yesterday, my wife said I sounded high. I immediately flashed to the list of symptoms of barnacle infection: fatigue. But I didn't get much sleep this weekend, so I was probably just tired...because I wasn't high. So I took a bath and went to sleep rather early.

I'm jealous De went to a horror convention over the weekend, even if the meal after caused him, um, internal damage.... I need to get up there for that eventually, especially since I actually found Kyra Schon's website and purchased a signed picture. (She played the little girl/zombie/parent killer in the original Night of the Living Dead.)

I think my wife has editing in her blood. She got so mad over this headline: Madonna Breaks Bones While Riding a Horse. My favorite headline is from a British tabloid: MADONNA'S HORSE FALL HORROR.

I want to see the one-man Star Wars in New York. In later September, he's going to begin a one-man Lord of the Rings. I know it would be funny, but I wonder if it would also be exhausting, watching one person spaz out for an hour.

Keelhaul: Nautical. To discipline by dragging under the keel of a ship. The process used by the Dutch Navy was to draw the offender under the keel from side to side. This was done at a steady pace, fast enough to avoid drowning but not so fast that he was dragged against the hull and severely hurt by the barnacles.

My timing was not as good as that of the Dutch Navy.

This weekend I was down at the dock with my father-in-law. He was cleaning a gas grill with a pressure washer. The grill, a heavy Weber model, suddenly found the ability to dive, and leapt into the water, sinking about 10 feet down to the bottom. I had my bathing suit on, so I put on a SCUBA mask and jumped in to get it.

A few important elements to this story:

(1) The dock has no ladder, so if you go in, you have to get out some other way.
(2) The grill had fallen behind a motor boat suspended in the air on a lift. I had lowered the metal ladder from the back of the boat, with the thought that I'd grab it and climb out of the water that way.
(3) The SCUBA mask pinched my nose closed, meaning I could only take a breath through my mouth.
(4) Because it's summer, the water is teeming with jellyfish.

I locate the grill, grab one leg of it with my left hand, and begin swimming to the surface. I rise to where my eyes are above the water, but with the water filled grill tailing below me, I can't lift my face high enough out of the water to take a breath (my nose was pinched shut). I'm treading water with my right arm and holding the grill with my left. It suddenly occurs to me that (A) there's nothing to grab onto within reach, (B) I can't stop treading water with my right arm long enough to jump for the ladder on the back of the boat, which is hanging within sight about two feet above me, and (C) because of the weight of the grill in my left hand, I can't tilt my head up enough to take a breath. I'm suspended an inch and a half under water and I'm quickly running out of ideas. (D) I'm also starting to freak out at the idea that a jellyfish is going to wrap its tentacles around me as I thrash around.

I finally decide to twist my body and lift the grill in an arc out of the water. My father-in-law can then grab it and free me to swim again. Well, I lift the grill with no problem, and he grabs it and I can let it go, but my right foot pushes off against one of the dock pylons, and in completing the arc, my right hand brushes against the same pylon. The same barnacle covered pylon.

I swim to shallow water and step onto shore. By the time I'm back on the dock, I've counted 16 surface cuts on my right hand. Luckily, only two are deep enough to bleed.
The big toe on my right foot is another story. The top of my big toe has been punctured by the barnacle, forming a deep perfect square. The square of flesh can move freely, and it's bleeding on all sides of the puncture. I limp up to the house and stand in the grass, waving my arms to get my wife's attention inside. I don't want to trail blood on the deck. She sees my foot and brings all the first aid items. I use a butterfly bandage to pinch the wound closed and cover that with another bandage.

I've changed the bandage several times since this happened on Saturday. Now I can feel it throbbing in my shoe and I'm paranoid about infection. The University of Maryland Medical Center has a page about barnacle cut treatment.

Besides that, it was a wonderful weekend. Grilled steaks, white wine, sunset boat ride.

This weekend I will be spending part of the time with two nuns from New York City that love to go really fast in a speedboat. Just mentioning that first, since it's probably the oddest part of today's post.


You know you're married when your date night entails going to three places in the same mall and using coupons at all three. First, dinner at a Mexican restaurant, using a $10 off coupon. Why yes, I think I will have the larger size margarita! Next, she went to Linens and Things (I'm not much for using "-n-" for the word "and," okay?) with a $100 gift certificate and got a BUNCH of stuff. They let her use several 20% off coupons too, which they weren't supposed to do, which brought her total down to $82. Then, they gave her cash for her change, rather than store credit. So she walked out with bags of kitchen crap and $18. Finally, a walk to Borders, where I picked up these:

And used a 30% off coupon doing it.
The first is rather obvious. 1,000 record covers, loosely arranged by theme. The second is a history of Pink Floyd, written by the drummer. I've read a few reviews that he whitewashes the past and doesn't mention a lot of the tensions the band went through. But I can find that kind of gossip in other books, so I'm happy with all the stories and unreleased photos.

-----

I love records. I'm not a snobby audiophile who complains that digital CDs and MP3s are only approximations of the real music and only vinyl captures true sound. Not at all. I love my iPod. But there's something about those records, with their big covers with artwork and lyrics, and the feel of the cardboard, not encased in plastic like a CD, and putting the needle on the record.... My love for these things is certainly helped by the fact that I can find them in a million different places, and usually pay no more than a dollar each. I have a small stack I bought at a local Goodwill store I'm taking down to listen to this weekend, mostly some big hits from the 1970s I would never buy on CD, and a couple of obscure 80s bands that haven't made it to CD yet.

My friend's wife had a baby boy Monday afternoon at 12:56PM. I'll spare you and won't post a random pic of a child you'll likely never meet. He's cute though.

I saw someone do this in another blog, and thought I'd do it too, as an interesting time waster.

Where I was...

25 years ago: Elementary school, probably getting in trouble for talking.

20 years ago: Middle school, probably slicing my thumb open in that shop class I was forced to take.

15 years ago: Starting college, losing my virginity to a girl who always wanted to get drunk before having sex (as a way of alleviating the Catholic guilt).

10 years ago: Working in a warehouse, dating a coworker ten years older than me. Heck of a good use of a college degree, huh?

5 years ago: Finishing up 27 months in Africa.

3 years ago: Engaged, two kittens, figuring out the best way to quit a very stressful job.

2 years ago: Just married, puppy, found much better job, building a house.

1 year ago: At current job.

Yesterday: Work, then laying on sofa with a cat watching a movie.

Today: Work.

I suppose if you're a cynic, the graph of this would show a rise and fall, with the x-axis showing time, and the y-axis showing amount of travel and adventure.

I see it as a bar graph, steadily getting larger as it moves to the right, representing the amount of love in my life. (Sorry if that causes you to involuntarily gag!)

Friday morning I slept in, had coffee, cleaned a little, then headed over to the park for the picnic. I stayed there a few hours and left before lunch. Wife got home mid-afternoon and we went to see Wedding Crashers. Meh. Some funny stuff, but it was more romantic comedy than I was expecting. More of a rental than a see in the theater.

Saturday we got on the road about 9:30 and took the scenic route down to visit my parents. We stopped at half a dozen places and stretched a four-hour drive to about seven hours. It was fun, though your urge to stroll the scenic streets of Charlottesville is really tempered when it's 98 degrees.

My sister and her husband and two boys arrived soon after we did, and we all went to a nice dinner, followed by dessert at home. We got my parents a weekend at a fancy area resort for their anniversary. It has wine tastings, historical trips, hot air balloon rides, a spa, etc.

My nephews (11 and 7) are both at the age where they copy you, and whatever you think is cool, they think is cool. That's why I gave them books as gifts. I gave the youngest a couple of my old Superman comics, and a Superman figure that changes into Clark Kent. As long as he's reading something, that's what counts. We looked at some Batman comics together we found in my parents' basement. The older nephew got a book about astronauts, and a group picture of the crew from the most recent shuttle flight. (We have the pictures sitting around the office.) I'm happy to report that, although the rest of the country is rather blasé about it, children are still excited by space travel and think those guys with the jetpacks on are "awesome."

Sunday we left after lunch and zipped straight home. We had dinner and played Scrabble while watching Family Guy. Final score: I won by TWO points. I believe I'll be challenged to a rematch before the sun sets tonight.

So this weekend I was domestic man.

My best friend's wife is having their first baby at 12:30 PM today, via cesarean section. Please think happy thoughts for this couple you don't know, okay?

This week has gone by quickly. Today is my last work day, as tomorrow is our company picnic, to which we can come to late and leave early and still not have to actually go to the office, so that's nice. So, to quote Peter Griffin's neighbor Cleveland: "Balloons on the mailbox is the international symbol for PARTY OVER HEEERE!"

Amazon.com talks to me like HAL from 2001. It says "You indicated you're a returning customer, yet you didn't enter a password." Then it tries to lock me out of the spaceship. I didn't know Amazon.com could read lips.

Yesterday after work I purchased and assembled an etagere. As Jethro Clampet would describe it "one a them cabinets that goes over the terlet!" As you may recall, our new home was built before closets were invented, so we've had to improvise here and there. The etagere has a cabinet and a drawer and shelves and lots of places to put things. I finally know where to go when I need a Tylenol.

I also picked up Kung Fu Hustle, a movie my wife actually enjoyed and wanted to own. She's not nearly the fan of action and sci fi that I am, so any she likes are welcome in my home.

Not much more to say. I'm getting four books ready for the fall season, so work is good and busy.

I know I should probably be reading Eastern philosophy, or donating my time at a homeless shelter, but I can't tear myself away from the Black Oil collection of the X-Files. Man, it's good! Watching them in blocks like this, you can see how the special effects really hold up, and how good the writing is, not just in terms of a gripping plot, but the dialog. Both Mulder and Scully get some great lines. And in this collection, Mulder gets his ass handed to him 15 different ways. Every episode someone is beating the snot out of him: an alien, a government agent, an alien, a Russian spy, an alien...

My parents are celebrating their fortieth anniversary this weekend, so we're heading down to my hometown Saturday for the first time since last Christmas. The hometown is sort of an annoying place. Too big to be considered the country, yet still too small to have anything fun to do in it. When I lived there, my favorite place was a used bookstore located in a huge old Victorian house. Every room was crammed with books, and I traded in so many of them that I don't think I ever paid cash for anything.

When I'm in my hometown, I occasionally see people there I know by face, if no longer by name, and I am so happy I escaped. Do other people ever feel that way? I'd like to see my family more often, but I'm never moving there again.

The dentist on Friday started out fine, but ended a little sloppily. That's what happens when you're so far ahead in the game you allow your third stringer to come in and play.

The dentist did all the big work, drilling and whatnot, with his assistant regularly prodding things into my mouth. (I was in the chair over two hours, by the way. I listened to--but could not see--the movie Hitch. I didn't hear much of it either, over the drill.) Anyway, the dentist leaves the room toward the end. The assistant will finish sanding the temporary crown and fitting it. Small problem: it doesn't fit. The dentist sticks his head in and she explains what's wrong. He says "Turn it around." Ha ha ha, but no, it's not that. She's sanded it too much and it broke. She then has to take another impression, which entails biting this nasty play-doh type of mold for several minutes. [I started to tell another dentist misadventure story, but it had so much double entendre in it, I had to delete it. You'd thank me if you'd read it.]

A bimini on a boat is no substitute for sunscreen. I know that now.


I watched Hell Up in Harlem over the weekend. The movie also takes place in Key West, Beverly Hills, JFK and LAX airports, so it was Hell Up all over.

After we got home Sunday I went to 7-11 to buy a newspaper. As I was coming out, this hairy dude with piercing eyes was sitting in the backseat of the car next to mine. He looked like a Latino Charles Manson. He stared at me and gave me the finger. About 100 times. Even as I was leaving the parking lot, he had turned around in the seat to give me the finger though the back window. I had never seen the guy, so it wasn't personal. What the heck? Was he psychotic? Was it some sort of gang initiation? If I take the bait does he follow me and kill me? Here's the visual: He didn't simply hold up his middle finger the entire time. He stared at me, and each time I glanced over, he would slowly bring his middle finger up into view. Creepy bitch. You can't react to those things. The guy had either taken something that f-ed up his head, or he was just a hostile schizophrenic. There had to be a reason they left him in the backseat of a two-door car on a 95 degree day. I don't think they'd even cracked a window. Maybe it was just heat stroke.

Speaking of odd scenes, if you grew up in Virginia, you're used to seeing Civil War reenactors. You can't escape it. As a child you went to some fair and guys in gray uniforms were sitting around a campfire. It was quaint in an strange way. Now things have gotten a bit more strange: Today's Washington Post has an article about Vietnam War reenactors wandering the woods of Virginia. That's not even the icky part. I'll steal a few lines from the article:

Several times, [one of the reenactors] visited a Vietnamese-owned grocery store to ask if he could borrow the family's elder sons for a weekend. He showed them photos of himself dressed up as a communist. Hubble said the family always told him their sons were busy. This remark would be followed by laughter and chatter in Vietnamese. "They were probably thinking, 'What a weirdo,' " Hubble said. "But I just wanted things to be more authentic."

I have a friend whose family actually escaped Vietnam by boat when he was a baby, being picked up by the Coast Guard and living in tents in America while being processed to eventually become citizens. I can't imagine why people like him are reluctant to dress up as Vietcong and let white guys in army uniforms hunt them in the woods. Doesn't that sound like fun?

As an editor, I work alone, but I also periodically work with production, the authors, illustrators, printer, other editors, and so on. As I reach the next step in a project and it's time to meet with one of these people, I'm prepared and know what I need done.

Usually the only hitch in the plan is when I need to contact someone outside the loop and I'm suddenly at this person's mercy. I hate when I project grinds to a complete stop as I wait for someone to respond to an e-mail. I'm then reminded of that obnoxious saying "Lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part," which only manages to piss me off. Every project has these unforeseen bumps, and the trick is to catch them early enough.

In other words, I'm still waiting for someone to respond to an e-mail I sent 23 and a half hours ago. Of course, the fact that I have to leave at 10 this morning to go to the dentist just complicates matters further, because now I have to hope that the person gets into the office by 9, and answers the email by 10. A one hour window of opportunity. Cue the Mission Impossible music!

Today's title from Fletch. Probably Chevy's last funny movie, but it's a classic.

Dentist tomorrow, for a crown. Yay. The payoff is a few hours on the sofa after. I'm not sure the payoff is worth the pain and money spent. Damn my teeth, and my wife's old dentist, who I went to once, five years ago. The man was a hack, giving me a metal filling (huh? No one uses metal fillings anymore!). The cavity is now under the metal filling. Thanks a lot. Plus, he inflicted serious pain. And when I complained in the middle of it, he said "You're numb. That's not pain, that's pressure." No big damn difference to me, ass! (Hope I'm not scaring you, Kate. My dentist since is a level-headed younger man who actually listens to me when I say something.)

Is there no day so bad that it can't be made better with good Mexican food?

Let me clarify something, if it needs to be... My rant about the magnetic yellow ribbons on the SUVs is based on the fact that it's largely a hollow gesture. HOW do you support the troops? The troops have to actually return home safely to see the yellow ribbons and appreciate them. By saying "Support the troops" how can you not be saying "Support the President's policies?" The only place with more "W" stickers and Texas license plates than DC is Texas. And Bush says the best way to honor the lives of the 14 marines killed yesterday is to "finish the job." What is the job, exactly? To install a government that "kind of" looks like a democracy, that can protect itself from coups without us watching over them for the next decade? If we play watchmaker god with Iraq and set up this government and leave, we can't complain too loudly if hardline Shiites get elected to office and ban all women from holding positions, or working, or walking the streets without being completely covered. Sigh. Enough political talk. And that's all it is. I can't objectively separate the war from the political leanings of our President, since he sent us there.

Random site of the day: The Camaro from the John Cusack movie Better Off Dead. Someone tracked down the actual car from the movie, restored it, and documented the whole thing. Right Here!

I can't believe everyone walked away from the burning Air France plane. The hopeful part of me says "Wow, that's amazing." The cynical part of me says "Okay, now bring on the lawsuits." But since it left from Paris and landed in Canada, maybe the sue-happy Americans will be left out of the loop. Sometimes things just happen, people, and every tragedy isn't an excuse to make money. (Exactly when did humans decide "pain and suffering" had monetary value?)

I used to be an X-Files geek. The early seasons of the show were fantastic, with aliens and government conspiracies galore. I missed two full seasons when I was out of the country, and by the time I returned, Agent Mulder was gone. Eventually Scully was pretty much gone too. I only caught an episode here and there after that, and none of the final season. I don't find myself tempted to pick up the complete seasons either. For once, the nostalgia bug hasn't bitten. That said, I did pick up The X-Files Mythology, Vol. 2 - Black Oil . It's an inexpensive way to get an entire story arc, spanning three seasons. A nice idea from Fox. Yeah, I admitted that.

Another day with a heat index over 100. And if you've never heard about the legendary humidity in DC in August... well, it sucks. There's a reason Congress took a recess until September, and Bush went on a FIVE WEEK VACATION. Way to go, pal. By the way, the total number of US soldiers killed in Iraq is now more than 1,800. Something to think about down on the ranch, okay? Damn it. Fourteen more marines just died this morning.

I'm not sure the power of those magnetic yellow ribbons on your SUV is reaching all the way over there.

Well, not really, but for the amount of money I'll be giving him, you'd think he was a buddy or a family member hard up for cash! The dentist appointment was painless on Friday, but only because we scheduled a series of painful visits to come. This coming Friday at 10:30 I'll be getting a crown (after they demolish the existing tooth, of course). In fact, I'll ultimately be getting several crowns. One of them is totally not my fault. A cavity formed under a filling. How can you brush there? I got the lecture about how it probably could have been avoided if I didn't wait three years between appointments. (Duh) That's true, of course. And I brushed my teeth too hard. It's counter-intuitive. When you scrub a floor, you don't gently rub it to clean it, yet that's what you're supposed to do with your teeth. Sigh.

So I left the dentist office as I always do: with a vague sense of guilt.


On Saturday morning I went into town to run an errand. I got to the small town at 8:30 and the place I needed to go didn't open until 10. It's difficult to waste an hour and a half in a small town when very little is open. I ended up browsing Dollar General, a discount store in which everything is generic/seriously pushing the expiration date. The store takes Discover card, food stamps, and cash. I had $3.00 on me (and no Discover card or food stamps). What to get? I glanced at the sad looking book rack and gave it a twirl. Something caught my eye and I turned it back around. I picked up Who Killed Bob Crane? and read the back cover. The former star of Hogan's Heroes spent the last years of his life working the dinner theater circuit and feeding his sex addiction. He took pictures and videos of women while having sex, and was found one morning on his dirty hotel bed with his head bashed. I recalled that story, but decided for a dollar, I could read more about it. I finished the book Sunday afternoon. I think I'll rent that movie now and see how they portray everything. The cast seems right based on the character descriptions in the book.