Hugs and Kisses
Her Papaw and Her Gran. Central Florida. Early 1970s.
Picture of a picture. Camera set on text mode. Colors “revived” in Photo Filtre.
This from M*****, on Flickr, who writes:
I don’t know much about cars. Is this my uncle’s Nova?
Papaw was born in Iuka, Tishomingo County, Mississippi in 1915 and raised in Pleasant Site and Florence, Alabama and in Hayti, Missouri. In the 1920 census his family were living in a railroad camp where his dad was working on the railroad. The census taker wrote in the margin “not on any road”. His mother had 12 kids and died young of cancer. His father remarried twice and had 8 more kids for a total of 20. Papaw never went to school. He learned to hunt and fish and trap and ran moonshine. My mom said he had a talent for being able to fix things with practically nothing. I guess he had no choice. He was a hard drinker and a philanderer. He died from malignant hypertension a few years after this pic was taken. A few months before he died he told me that I was a “mistake to be born”. I was 6 years old. My mom said he wasn’t right in the head but I believed him. Truthfully I’m glad the old bastard isn’t still around. I know I would never let him be around my kids if he was.
Fig. 8
Go play it. (via)
LEAKED: New iPhone Commercial
(thanks, Autumn)
How To Read Nancy
How To Read Nancy (pdf) by Mark Newgarden and Paul Karasik:
Ernie Bushmiller had the hand of an architect, the mind of a silent film comedian, and the soul of an accountant. His formulaic approach to humor beautifully revealed the essence of what a gag is all about – balance, symmetry, economy. His gags have the abstract feel of math and Nanc[y] was, in fact, a mini-algebra equation masquerading as a comic strip for close to 50 years.
Austin points out that they plan on republishing it as a book. Also, don’t let the typos distract you from the content. Mark Newgarden hosts a superior version you can download here (pdf).
from the irony
from the moderated comments
Hey, I have a music appreciation class and my professor said that 98% of people have touched a piano. He is asking us to take a survey of 100 people.
Have you ever touched a piano? Thanks for helping!
Spam Name
Garland Lundy.
from the comments
I always want to save Cindy from every hint of stress and harm and struggle; she deserves goodness and mercy all the days of her life. For all my bluster, I’m not such a good bulwark against the slings and arrows. I’m sure Cindy has mentioned how a middle ear problem often causes her to suddenly tip off in one direction and fall (a rich past of broken bones). Every time when it happens and I’m there, I make a kind of Frankenstein sound and watch, reaching out in slow motion, as she heads for the concrete. What I want more than my own life itself is to be able to catch her every time. Does a grinding, slow motion hope count for something? I hope so. I’m not a very good dancer.
from the comments
So many of my memories of my parents are tangential, glint of fish-eye glimpses. And oddly they are flashes of repressed expressions: my mother trying not to look nervous in front of the kids; my father trying to look commanding even when he learned things a bit late to avoid trouble. In retrospect it was the look of faith in God, set on the faces of those who knew how to worry about mistakes being judged by the Big Guy. But I have many happy memories too: my mother in her early twenties, driving my father’s MGA very fast, with the top down, on our way to the outer edges of Houston to cut pine boughs beside a country road, to hang around our front door for Christmas decoration. The smell of those boughs on the way back. The boughs covering me; the wind so cold it was almost painful.
Operation Crossroads Baker
Operation Crossroads Baker – A photo as beautiful as it is disturbing. (thanks, Dale)
Lamborghini Gallardo LP 550-2 Valentino Balboni
I prefer a Ferrari, but.
What — Again?
Camera-phone capture. August 26, 2009.
The Best of Clusterflock
Are the very moments that Merlin Mann is asking people to write about:
Tell me something that happened. Use the names of people you’d forgotten about, and say what you’d thought would happen but didn’t. Write down what part of the song was playing when you slammed the door only to realize you had to go back inside for your car keys. Can you remember when you were still little enough to hide under the kitchen sink where it smelled like ammonia and Comet and old sponges? What was the color of the clunky old car your Dad would let you help steer. What brand did he smoke?
My Dad smoked Winstons, from a red and gold pack that never seemed to empty. Lots and lots of Winstons. And, I loved when my Dad would let me help steer the vomit-green Pontiac with the plastic seats down the maniac curves of Boomer Road. I’d sit on his lap in this giant, ridiculous automobile, with cigarette smoke swirling around our heads and out the cracked window, listening to a Reds game on WLW, laughing and steering.
My Dad had the same name as me and he never should have smoked as much as he did. And, I swear to God, thirty-five years later, I can still see his big hands on the wheel, and still smell those Winstons, and still hear Joe Nuxhall’s call, as Pete Rose stretches another double into an impossible head-first triple, and as I type this, I’m just remembering that whenever we were pulling out of my Grandparents’ driveway, my Dad would always flip the vomit-green Pontiac’s lights on and off three times. Blink. Blink. Blink.
That’s how we said goodbye.
Man.
Defining ‘normal’
This morning I came across a post asking, What does it mean to eat ‘normally’? Citing a PsychCentral article, a broad definition of normal eating is listed:
* Normal eating is going to the table hungry and eating until you are satisfied.
* Normal eating is being able to give some thought to your food selection so you get nutritious food, but not being so wary and restrictive that you miss out on enjoyable food.
* Normal eating takes up some of your time and attention, but keeps its place as only one important area of your life.
Reading this I had the impression that the quest to define eating ‘normally’ is, in fact, much like playing The Game:
1. Everyone in the world is playing The Game.
2. Whenever one thinks about The Game, one loses.
This question of what’s ‘normal’ really riles me up. You could say the answer’s been somewhat of my adult life’s pursuit. I believe the minute you analyze how and what you eat, you forfeit the ability to claim that you’re ‘normal’ about food.
From the Comments
And then there was the time we were at the museum to see a Howard Hodgkin exhibit, and a similar docent asked a group of bored middle school students what they had learned. After a shuffling silence she said, in a high nasal whine, “Come on young pee-pull–I know you learned something.” And a fellow Flocker very close to me said, “They didn’t learn a fucking thing” and we had to exit the building very quickly. I’m sure the kids wish field trips would more regularly include such experiences.
Cindy stories really make my day.
Anais Mitchell
“Before The Eyes of Storytelling Girls” is one of my favorite songs of all time. Ms. Mitchell is a charming writer with a gorgeous, sweet voice and my heart just breaks every time I hear her sing.
[http://www.clusterflock.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/Anas-Mitchell-Hymns-for-the-Exiled-01-Before-The-Eyes-Of-Storytelling-Girls.mp3] Download
Y’all?
I really, really need to hear some kind words today. Please tell me that I’m okay.
Kottke’s Web Favorites
Jason Kottke, patron saint of Clusterflock, was recently asked by Google to name his favorite sites around the ‘net and Clusterflock made an appearance!
A very sincere thanks to Jason for his continual support of Clusterflock, and congratulations to Deron and to every ‘flocker for making Clusterflock what it is. Many of us have had our lives changed through the steady encouragement of the posters and commenters that make up the Clusterflock community. When going out on a branch, whether intellectually or by moving, switching careers, Clusterflockers continually amaze me with their help and support, good humor and cheer.
To the future, and to the ‘Flock.
Gutties on the powerline
All Modern Giveaway
Woubie won the $100 generous giveaway from All Modern! Woubie, as I type, carrier pigeons are wending their way towards you, bringing a single dollar bill in their tiny message container. Please receive them warmly, and send them on their way after a bracing thimble of whiskey.
Thank you everyone for entering.
Stolen Lego giraffe penis was actually a tail
The Lego giraffe, i[t] turns out, does not have a penis.
Quote out of context
That’d be like me taking chemotherapy because I’m tired of shaving my head.
38th in Health Care
The report by the Communications Workers of America (CWA) said the average download speed in South Korea is 20.4 megabits per second (mbps) — four times faster than the US average of 5.1 mbps.
“The dog don’t like you planting stuff there.”
