We’re gonna make some big decisions in our little world

One thing I love about the internet is that I can start out doing legitimate research and end up sliding down a slippery slope of nonsense and time-sucking distraction. I'm sure you know what I mean. So it goes: last night I started out researching something perfectly legit and where did I end up? Websites that offer collections of Bob Ross quotes, of course.

For those of you unfamiliar with defunct public television shows from the 80's and 90's, Bob Ross was a soft-spoken hippie dippie type who hosted a half hour program on PBS called The Joy of Painting. Wherein he would softly coo about happy trees and mountains and birds--whatever he was using to populate his cheesy landscapes (which he would churn out, incredibly, in a half an hour)--while spontaneously offering quasi-new age (sometimes quasi-political) non sequiturs. As a former employee of an art supply store I reflexively cringe when I hear his name, as he is the demigod of aspiring retiree/housewife "artists" and anger management yogis everywhere, and was the object of much scorn and irony among my bitter, underemployed post-art school compatriots.

Anyway: I have to say, reading his little Wikipedia bio did give me a small feeling of regret about my past attitude towards the guy--seems like he was, in his own way, striking a blow against The Man (that stuff about the military really sheds light on some of his comments...). I'll post some of my favorite BR quotes here for your enjoyment:

* "And that makes it look like birch trees, isn’t that sneaky? Heh. Ha. It’s gorgeous."
* "Gotta give him a friend. Like I always say ‘everyone needs a friend’."
* "Any way you want it to be, that’s just right."
* "As my son Steve says, just ’smoosh’ it in there. It’s not a real word, but people seem to know what it means."
* "Maybe in our world there lives a happy little tree over there."
* "Oooh, if you have never been to Alaska, go there while it is still wild. My favorite uncle asked me if I wanted to go there, Uncle Sam. He said if you don’t go, you’re going to jail. That is how Uncle Sam asks you."
* "Talk to the tree, make friends with it."
* "I taught my son to paint mountains like these, and guess what? Now he paints the best damn mountains in the industry."
* "The only thing worse than yellow snow is green snow."
* "There’s nothing wrong with having a tree as a friend."
* "If you did this with yellow, and you went over it with blue, you would end up with a .. with a translucent… green. And it’s gorgeous. It is GORGEOUS."
* "We want happy paintings. Happy paintings. If you want sad things, watch the news."
* "Trees cover up a multitude of sins."
* "We’re gonna make some big decisions in our little world."
* "That’s a crooked tree. We’ll send him to Washington."
* "You can do anything you want to do. This is your world."
* "I can’t go over 30 minutes, because we have a mean ol’ director with no sense of humor."

Heh heh--oh, Bob!

Reds Mark 75th Anniversary of the First MLB Night Game

Readers, we're nearly 2 months into baseball season here at MM, and that means one thing: the Cincinnati Reds are back on our radar screen for another season of heartbreaking defeat (but what's that you say? The Reds have been in first place recently? And they haven't been in first place this deep into the season since 2006? True, but the cynical Reds fan that I am--read: lover of perennial losers held hostage by declining ticket sales and bad front-office decision making--will not allow me to enjoy it, knowing that crushing defeat lies in wait for that moment when I decide to emotionally invest myself).

Anyway: Cincinnati's Crosley Field made history back on May 24th, 1935 when it was host to the first ever baseball game played at night, at which the Reds beat the Phillies 2-1.

I was really disappointed that I couldn't make it up to Cincy to see the game last night: in honor of the anniversary, the powers-that-be 86ed the obnoxious, hiccuping drone of the Mega-tron (and the accompanying hip-hop styling of whatever crappy song each player wants played as he's walking up to bat) and instead opted to play organ music(!) ORGAN MUSIC! They apparently still have one stashed away somewhere at the ballpark (or at least a keyboard that has a calliope setting on it). That alone would've been worth the hour and 20 minute drive.

According to an article on MLB.com describing last night's festivities: "during the seventh inning stretch, a sparkling 'C' was illuminated on the right-field porch as part of a ceremony to commemorate the moment when President Franklin D. Roosevelt pushed a button at the White House to activate the lights at Crosley Field."

Wow! FDR! This was back when baseball was such a big deal in America that the President wanted to get involved! Go Reds!

New York Interlopers

Interesting NPR story about a Wisconsin historian, Margaret Zerwekh, who campaigned for over 20 years to honor a civil war soldier who died on the last day of fighting at Gettysburg with the Congressional Medal of Honor. He's finally getting this thing (way postmortem), and now Fredona, New York's mayor is trying to take the medal on the grounds that the soldier's family moved to Fredona (he was born in Delafield, Wisconsin). Hmm, not sure what would be the best solution--dig up his body and then re-bury him with it? Did there really need to be a physical medal made up if this guy no longer had any living family members to present it to? Anyway, I like how Guy Raz stokes the fire later in the interview:

"You'd better work quickly before those New York interlopers come in and try to snag the medal."

Ha! "New York interlopers"! Some of my best laid plans have been foiled by the likes of those meddling yankees!

Wrong Wrong Wrong

Yet another disturbing library find, readers--and this one uncovers an entire seedy underbelly of troubling, anti-social, cat-related behavior: How to Massage Your Cat by Jane Buckle. It's not that I am so naive that I didn't realize there was this thing called cat massage going on all across America--yeah, I've heard about it--no, it's that cover illustration: the look on the cartoon kitty as those not-so-gentle-looking, groping hands reach for his backside...gross! And what are those motion lines around the thumbs suggesting?? Run, Mr. kitty!

Louisville Mayor Candidate has "Great Idea" for Economic Development...

Readers, as you may have noticed, I've been sporadically reporting on the massive Louisville mayoral primary race. I can't really help it--you see, when our (quasi)beloved "mayor for life" Jerry Abramson (who had a strangle hold on the office for nearly 20 years) announced that he was not seeking reelection, we Louisvillians kind of lost our shit: now that the perennial shoe-in has bowed out, everybody wants a crack at this thing called "mayor" and there seems to be no campaign limit on crazy this election period.

I reported earlier on one special candidate who led the pack in that regard early on, but another contender for the coo-coo crown seems worth mentioning. Burrel Farnsley, son of Louisville's former mayor (1948-53), the late Charles Farnsley, has barely been a bleep on the radar here at MM: he avoids the press, doesn't seem to give interviews, and doesn't even have a website. He is pictured here at a mayoral candidate panel, um, asleep (maybe he's taking a cue from reigning king of Ky good ole' boys Jim Bunning--catching some zz's on the job didn't particularly seem to hurt his career...). Farnsley is pretty much just ballot filler at this point (along with a field of other less-than-hopefuls, ne'er do wells and half-cocked "community activists")--when we go to the polls for tomorrow's primary the only people who are likely to circle this guy's name are the disgruntled, the dangerously misinformed or that strange breed of jack-off who takes the time and trouble to cast their vote as a sort of irresponsible civic joke.

Case in point? Yesterday's Courier-Journal reported that Farnsley has halted his campaign effort. He hasn't withdrawn from the race, per se, but after participating in a few forums (like the one pictured above) he has "stopped actively campaigning." The poor C-J seems to be genuinely trying to get this guy some press, but Farnsley apparently screens his phone calls very carefully and lives pretty much off-grid (no Twitter account? Barbaric!). But the most enlightening part of the article was the little bit of information he apparently did provide regarding his idea for Louisville's economic growth:

"He said...that his major economic-development idea is to allow bars to remain open 24 hours a day, seven days a week." (!)

Well, finally! A candidate that understands that bar closing times need to extend beyond 4 AM to really contribute to the community! Pappa would be so proud.

Things I Learned When a Possum Began Living Under Our Deck

* Possums are the only native marsupials to North America
* Possums have prehensile tails
* Possums have opposable thumbs(!)
* Possums are not afraid of my dog
* Possums are not afraid of me
* Hitting a possum with a broom has surprisingly little effect
* Possum shit smells unholy
* My dog enjoys rolling in possum shit
* Because of their low body temperature, possums rarely get rabies
* Female possums have 13 nipples
* If not removed soon, I will potentially have 13 more possums living under my deck
* Possums are either too smart to fall for raccoon traps or they don't like canned Science Diet dog food

Best Book Ever

Readers, I'm always on the lookout for amazing literary gems at my library, and I really hit the mother load this time. Our newest entry comes to us from Timothy Welch and the good people at Prentice-Hall, circa 1984: Tape It Off! a guide to "lose weight quickly and enjoyably through self-hypnosis" (!) Check out that cover image: the Olivia Newton John Body Heat era-inspired outfit, the mall queen hair, the brick-sized Walkman...and then you have the promise of self-hypnosis...gosh, it's just a winning combination, isn't it?

Working in a library I come across hundreds of diet books, so it really takes a special contender to grab my attention like this one has. So the cover, title and premise alone was easily enough to win me over, but the real clencher? The first sentence in the first chapter (no joke): "You're too fat!"(!!) Wow, I guess that was the type of positive encouragement one could expect to get from the early eighties...really makes you realize how touchy-feely and PC we've gotten with our diet books here in the next century.

And lest you think this was just a one-off dabble for Prentice-Hall in the genre of self-improvement through DIY hypnosis, the back of the book jacket sets you straight--there is a whole series of this stuff to explore! Some of these titles sound pretty promising: Financial Well-Being Through Self-Hypnosos by Joseph Itiel, You Can Do It With Self-Hypnosos by Charles E. Henderson, and (you should've seen this one coming): Improve Your Sex Life Through Self-Hypnosos by John Kappas! I'm sure I can run up to my local Borders and snag these.

The book is full of scripts that you are supposed to read aloud in a calm, monotone voice into your gigantic tape recorder, then play it back to yourself just before mealtime. The theory is that you'll hypnotize yourself into a non-hungry stupor, thus ditching your thunder thighs and gaining the confidence you'll need to hang around in a candy-striped leotard and stirrup pants (pink and red?? Oh, girlfriend, no). So the book is chock full of odd little mantras to tell yourself, but it's also got random descriptions of stressful real-life situations that may contribute to overeating. Some of the weirder chapter titles include: chapter 3: Eye Fixation and Arm Levitation, ch 7: The Candy Lady and the Pie Guy, ch 12: Domestic Dissent, ch 13: My Enemies, The Children(!), and ch 15: I Wish I Were Pregnant(??).

Wacky. Just...wacky.