When I was a child,
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye.
I turned to look,
but it was gone.
I cannot put my finger on it now.
The child is grown.
The dream is gone.
–Pink Floyd
Martinez Lake, AZ
I must have been seven or eight years old. My grandfather, Dick Stucker (yes, his real name) and I were in a shallow section of the Ferguson Cut, just off the Colorado River, pushing the lifeless Toyboat along. Why and whither we were doing so, I can’t remember, but boats tend to break down more often than cars, and this was one of those times.
Toyboat was Grandfather’s jet-powered ski boat. I wish I had a movie diary of the good times the family had on Lake Martinez, as we referred to it, and on that little boat. All the life lessons learned there, I carry to this day. I’m reminded of the eulogy I’d written for Grandfather’s funeral, that I couldn’t read without breaking down, so I’d asked my mother to do it for me. As I’m writing this, I retrieve a journal of mine out of his – now my – antebellum desk, to peruse my eulogy notes and the funeral program. Once again, I find myself stumbling along the crumbling edge atop an infinite pit of mourning. Pink dolphins hold me back…
As I struggled in the chest deep water to keep up with the two men, something in it caught my eye. The lake was smooth on that windless summer day, the dry desert sky clear. Off to my side a creature broke the surface. In the split second I had to see it, a pink dolphin’s back and dorsal fin smoothly, silently, rotated in an arc back down into the water. I couldn’t believe it. And I didn’t think Grandfather and Mr. Stucker would either. I kept the pink dolphin to myself then, and throughout the ensuing years.
YMCA of Orange, CA
I could’ve been anywhere of age from nine to thirteen years old. My Sensei, a native Hawaiian trained in a Buddhist temple, leapt to the stage upon which to demonstrate some move to the class. The balls of his feet alone landed on the front edge of the roughly four foot high deck. He was suspended there leaning back, away from the stage, having misjudged the jump. I was surprised that this amazing man would make such a mistake and waited for him to fall off. Instead, he teetered almost imperceptibly then slowly rotated upright and walked onto the stage. Supernatural, clearly. That, too, I kept to myself.
Irvine Park, CA
Driving age. A group of high school friends and I would play paintball, but using slingshots. None could afford actual paintball guns. My role, typically, was sniper. Alone I’d pick at the opposing team and draw them into the real ambush. One morning as I squatted in some undergrowth, I heard bushwhacking to my left. As it got closer, I readied a shot. To my surprise, two wolves came into view mere feet away from me. I jumped up, shouted, and fired a shot that went wide. The wolves were unperturbed, seemingly amused that a bush could behave so. They trotted off.
I told the guys about this later. Tom told me there are no wolves here; they must’ve been coyotes. I looked it up. He was right.
* * * * *
Some say that they wish they’d known then what they know now. But then there’s Bob Seger’s, “Wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then.” There’s a Zen koan: Show me your Original Face, the face you had before your parents were born. And from the Tao,
Free from desire, you realize the mystery.
Caught in desire, you see only the manifestations.
* * * * *
In my teen years, I had a dream in which my handle, Plisade (pronounced Plih-sahd), was presented to me. I’ve remembered it since then, and when computers and the internet with their IDs and passwords came to be, that word that didn’t exist came to have a practical use. But before and beyond that, I’ve held onto it with the feeling that someday its meaning would be revealed. It will mean something someday. It has to.
Speaking of the internet, the pink dolphin of my youth crossed my mind one day recently. So I Googled dolphins in the Colorado River: Nothing. Then, with no expectations, I searched on pink dolphins. As it turns out, they do exist and live in the Amazon River where they’re revered as mythical creatures.
And then there’s the number eleven. It’s everywhere in my life and I consider it an omen. I left my then-wife on 11/11/11. My parking spot at work is 11. My computer ID there is LV11. And lots of things add up to it: 1109, my platoon number in boot camp; and numerous addresses at which I’ve lived. But for several years now, eleven has been absent. I long for its return.
J. Percy Priest Reservoir, TN
Present day. I’m paddleboarding. The lake is smooth on this windless autumn morning, the sky clear. Off to my side a creature breaks the surface. The Pink Dolphin?! In the split second I have to see it, a large and scaly pinkish fish’s back and dorsal fin smoothly, silently, rotate in an arc back down into the water.
Off to my side a creature breaks the surface. The Pink Dolphin?!
Cue the Henry Mancini music.
Amusing
NO PINK DOLFEN. IS FRESHLY SHAVED SASQUATCH TRYING SNEAK UP ON YOU.
ONCE GO PINK
NEVER AGAIN BLINK
I’ll have to keep my eyes open for one of those, interesting read Plisade.
That was fun.
It’s funny how snippets of memory stay with us.
Loved it!
I looked it up. He was right.
A neighbor dropped a note in the mailbox this week asking whether I know anything about her missing cat, on account of the bloodbath in my driveway. She guessed a coyote had caught it, and it certainly looked like something bigger than a squirrel had gotten got. But I live pretty deep in the city. Must have been an arroyo coyote.
I didn’t ask whether her cat was named Gusty Winds, on account of that being a woefully esoteric reference.
Speaking of dolphins.
Very enjoyable, Plis, if I may be so bold. All of us or at least most of us have some secrets we have kept to ourselves. Maybe we’d be embarrassed, perhaps ashamed or we just want to be selfish and keep them for ourselves. I have some of each and I’m guessing so do most others.
Thanks for sharing but now you have let us into your inner self. Now you have to trust us not to share with others. Your secrets are safe.
Thanks. That was actually a recent journal entry I thought might be worth sharing.
I am still unclear as to what “Plisade” means?
It’s the word you play in scrabble and claim to be an alternate spelling of Palisade.
Its a drink made from sweetened plis juice.
We are haunted.
11/11/11 – The final hour of the final day of the final month.
Wait, aren’t we overdue?
Too late for Veterans Day too early for Christmas
Christmas Truce – Sabaton
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=HPdHkHslFIU
I read a couple of books on that. A happy occasion, until the brass found out.
Yeah. At that point they should have turned their guns on the political leaders that put them in that position.
Some did, at best were a slight draw
http://sunnycv.com/steve/ww1/mutinies.html
I am still unclear as to what “Plisade” means?
Sounds like a ballet move.
I loved reading this. It was almost as if I was watching your stream of consciousness leap about from thread to thread as you were silently pondering, perhaps watching the sun set. Thanks for sharing it.
Boring. There weren’t even any explosions. Not one.
I exploded a little.
Like, that’s your opinion, man.
And you weren’t first for the 1,111th time.
Hi-yo!
Thanks, Plisade.
When I’m out hiking or on a long drive, my brain kicks up old memories that read like yours.
I dig it. Reminds me of a verbal squiggle game.
Pink Dolphin was my nickname in college.
This was a fun read. Thanks for sharing Plisade.
And thanks for being the newest entry into my list of handles I pronounce incorrectly. Know what I mean Rye-one?
How else did you pronounce it?
Eet.
P’lisade
No, I meant Rhywun.
How could you fuck that up?
I pronounce in Rye-one. That is not correct.
However, Rye is the #1 type of Whisk(e)y
How the hell is it not Rye-one. That’s stupid.
Because it’s not English.
I tried to change it and got my ass chewed out.
I want to say rye-one, but I know that’s wrong, so I try to say something like ‘roo-hwoon’, which I realize is also probably wrong, and then I think about how I need to stop subvocalizing everything I read.
I found this with a recording of its correct pronunciation, but only in the context of using it in a sentence.
Not happening. It’s Rye-one.
Yeah. And no changing the avatar either, mister Reu-in
Here is Stephen Hawking pronouncing it.
heh smart fellow
I don’t even try. I just get a mental image of Stevie Nicks bleating like a goat.
If only I could go back 15 years and choose a not-Welsh handle.
Suck it, bucko. You’re stuck, just like the rest of us. At least it’s not a tattoo.
So, let’s circle back to how I could fuck that up…
Uh, alcohol? If not, blame it anyways!
Copy pasta from the dead thread:
Had I been on the jury I would have voted self-defense. To my way of thinking it should have been a slam-dunk.
Well, it’s not. At this point I’m predicting self-defense on two charges and murder-two or manslaughter on the other. Wishy-washy legal system will not take a position and will choose the worst possible combination when push comes to shove.
Buh-bye to the Second.
I don’t think we’re quite ready to give in to mob rule quite yet.
I hope that you are right.
Well, they did have a instructions to go over and discuss every piece of evidence. It was never gonna be fast. I heard some experts suggesting Friday.
To my way of thinking it was pretty obvious too, but not everyone the jury will be like me. I think it’s gonna be a battle.
I personally am resisting the temptation to think this case means all that much one way or the other. I think the results are heavily random, even though everyone will try to claim it’s a political barometer.
Your second amendment rights aren’t safe if Rittenhouse wins and nor is time to give up if he loses.
Hat: Fresh water Dolphins!
Mmmm… The sweetest, but most difficult to harvest, of all the cetacean milks.
That call-back sent a tingle up my leg!
Musically inclined Glibs, is there a second guitar track in this video?
https://youtu.be/NrFVJz65F_M
It’s a three person band, but I’m hearing another guitar. It may be a pedal or effects box, but I’m not a guitar player.
I’m not musically inclined, but it seems to me to be a bit of reverb and the bass being tuned different than the bass in rock I listen to. There are no riffs when the guitarist and bassist have their right hand away at the same time. But, I’m also drunk and have been up for 24hrs. I was impressed by that pink elephant playing the saxophone though.
Check back tomorrow!
Thanks. I’ve gone back and fourth on this.
Yep, backing track,
Thanks Yusef, looks like I wasn’t crazy. Let’s see if anyone chimes in.
They hit and E chord, and he plays riffed over the other track, then hord change,same thing, easy do do and it works well,
I’m glad this was enjoyed 🙂 Thanks for the kind words. I’m off to dreamland. G’night, Glibs.
Tonight we went out to dinner and we brought along my 11 year old son’s friend (who is a girl but is totally not his girlfriend) who is also 11, and we had to pay for parking by going to a little kiosk and punching in the number of the parking space we were in and we were in space number 11.
I’m weird enough and geek enough to appreciate stuff this this. Like when the indicator for cruise control says 55 and the digital speedometer says 55 and the outside temp says 55.
My Cherokee registered 33333 miles a few days ago. Today our Grand Cherokee registered 3333 miles.
?
(That is, I notice that sort of odometer stuff too.)
https://imgur.com/3s37lIg
Exactly.
LOL
perfect!
My birthday is 01/23.
My initials correspond to 01 and 23.
Are you a rootbeer magnate?
LOL sore losers Montreal. Nice to see the Rangers fight back.
I guess I gotta read “The Great Covid Panic” by Gigi Foster, Paul Frijters, and Michael Baker
“All those months of obsession crowded out attention, care, and concern for so much else. The fearful were the perfect victims for those with cooler heads who recognized that this was a unique opportunity to seize power and wealth for themselves. The paralysis of the fearful led in the end to heartless neglect, social disintegration, widespread theft, and totalitarian control.”
Yep. The only way to throw off the panicdemic is for us to loudly shout, “NO! Fuck off slavers. This is my life and I will make my choices.” We will need to keep repeating it.
We aren’t done…
https://www.reuters.com/world/us/fauci-says-us-can-reach-covid-endemic-level-rather-than-pandemic-next-year-2021-11-16/
It’s hard to overstate just how awful the last couple years have been on every front. It’s weird living though it but how are we going to describe it to our kids and grandkids?
“It was like watching the English lead their troops to battle during WWI. The same formations, every day. A different officer, but only because the last one had been shot by the enemy.”
That’s perfect. And similarly horrifying.
“but how are we going to describe it to our kids and grandkids?”
Start from the beginning: https://youtu.be/plh8g5cvrLg?t=130
11-11 has a weird meaning for me. In college (mid-70’s), they just introduced digital clocks with numbers that flipped (not LED or LCD). One of my roommates had such a clock, and always made a big deal when it was 11:11, as in “Hey, look, it’s 11:11!”
The roommate with the clock was a bit of a prankster, and my other roommate was rather gullible, which becomes important below.
Moving forward many months, the roommate with the clock and I went to a movie — “All the President’s Men.” A third of the way through the movie, the film broke and they couldn’t fix it that night, so we got rain checks. It was about 11:09 when we got back to our room. The prankster roommate says to the gullible one “We just came back to see 11:11.” We wait two minutes, the clock flips over to 11:11, and we leave, saying we are going back to movie (I’m just playing along at this point). The gullible roommate was rather perplexed until we came back ten minutes later to let him know what was really going on.
Anyway, so now my wife and I often point out when it’s 11:11.
Those clocks are available again. I’m not sure I’d want one next to the bed as they always made that click once a minute plus the the louder hour changes.
Mine was branded GE no less.
Even a stopped clock gives the right time twice a day.
I love those flippy clocks. My screensaver is one.
We do too. 11/11 is my MiL’s birthday.
Heh. My mothers is 12/12.
My youngest son’s is 12/12/13. I guess I should have gotten my wife pregnant either a year or a month earlier.
11:11 always makes me think of this:
https://youtu.be/kBLeIbARstQ
which was dedicated to Pink Floyd, as it turns out.
This was lovely. Thanks.
It was pure gibberish. There is no significance to the number 11. There aren’t even eleven classes of people. The only number that matters is 1.
To be First is over eleven times more significant than to be eleventh. I don’t even know if you can quantify the difference it’s so great.
When leaving the vet today, Babs really burst out the door as she couldn’t wait to leave and we startled two teens. The first just checked up, but the second kind of freaked out. “Holy shit! That’s a wolf”, he yelled.
Babs is a greyhound.
I managed to not laugh until I was in the car.
Heh. Greyhounds are weird enough that whenever I (rarely) see one I do a double-take. Maybe that’s what teen 2 was trying to express.
They’re just buses.
/completely missing the prior comment
The correct song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7u-h9nnMKdg
Heh. Roy Clark is one of my birthday buddies.
Thick?
https://scontent-ort2-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.30808-6/fr/cp0/e15/q65/258153748_10161665051872178_940854630906337384_n.jpg?_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-5&_nc_sid=110474&efg=eyJpIjoidCJ9&_nc_ohc=O3DLf9bNouEAX_d5CtK&_nc_ht=scontent-ort2-1.xx&oh=6db530dbaeedda09ba5d96875a72cfce&oe=619915AA
I’m not clicking on that, Fed.
It’s as safe as a SF story.
You fucker.
PSA for late night Glibs:
Attention in the compound.
TCM is showing the original “Shaft” this evening. Check your local times.
That is all.
Sweet. DVR set.
Oh wow, there’s a sequel I haven’t seen and then “Superfly” which I also haven’t seen after that.
Superfly has the best soundtrack of all time.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i8NOIBRhJMo
I believe it made more money that the movie and it might be the only soundtrack to do so.
IIRC, Marvin Gaye’s iconic version of I Heard It Through The Grapevine was outsold by The California Raisins version of same.
If you have not seen it, Cotton Comes To Harlem (first ever feature film shot in Harlem) and its sorta sequel, Come Back, Charleston Blue, are at the very pinnacle of the Blaxploitation genre.
I was on a Chester Himes kick a while ago but I never read either of those. I guess I’ll be giving Bezos more money.
Nah, just check out the forums in a few hours.
I’m getting the books.
Fucking Richard Roundtree, fucking sexist! Tried to claim men can get breast cancer! Stealing attention away from the real victims, women.
Many miles away there’s a shadow on the door
Of a cottage on the shore
Of a dark Scottish lake
Srsly? You brought Sting into this place? Next up, you’ll be quoting Michael Stipes.
I don’t like spiders and snakes
And that ain’t what it takes to love me
You fool, you fool
You are effing old.
And Jim Stafford was a fixture on the Sonny and Cher show.
I do not remember Stafford on S&C, but I do remember him having his own variety show for a season or two.
I’ll cut him some slack for quoting one of the few Police songs I like.
I don’t understand. Something about his politics (of which I know nothing because celebrities generally have nothing to teach me so I ignore their politics)?
No, people think his Soul Cages and later works disqualify The Police. People are wrong.
Don’t go into the print shop I was in earlier today. They have a taped off line on the floor, around a large piece of equipment that looks/sound intimidating. On the tape are the words “don’t stand so close to me” followed by a picture of Sting.
A popular one in restaurant kitchens:
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/55/0a/f6/550af6ed30e4b684d9e316c571c7d214.jpg
Hah! My butcher has that, with a different photo.
The Goes Wrong Show is available on Tubi in its entirety, apparently without ever signing up for their service. Which is awfully generous, given what you get for the price of admission, which is everything, for the awfully low price of nothing.
Sadly, season 2 is not available, which is sad to me, because I really, really enjoyed season one.
Is it that good? My fiancées old roommate used to write (maybe still writes, I don’t know) for Tubi, which always appeared to me like a very low-budget low-attention-span capture-the-zoomers-quick type service. But if the show is good I’ll give it a watch for sure.
Check the forum for season 2 and their two films.
Armistice Day is a perfect day for a divorce.
Watchin’ people fightin’.
Them cats was fast as last lightin’
*BREATHES DEEPLY*
Can you smell…what the Bro…is cooking?
Yes.
Yes. I think so.
*sniff, sniff*
Dude, you are a shitty cook.
https://archive.md/hSt4i/ec4c83ba9ccfcc4ba1df709a0ff4728bf2c12251.png
NSFW.
https://archive.md/ag7U5/db1d70475c833eaa6004c12d8952c5f22e5d4803.jpg
NSFW.
https://archive.md/apBII/79d5342133a6fc419fcedba7a517f5afb68d185d.jpg
NSFW.
https://archive.md/jNyOX/d498702ec9dd7cf56fe9a045e63aa39b94b9f3c8.jpg
NSFW.
My
niecethem had the audacity to say if we limited gifts this year thatshethey would want to get chosen by my little brother becauseshethey wants a sword. Bitch, who do you think bought most of the swords my little brother owns!? Guess who is getting a geeky sword for Christmas from uncle CPRM.You should give her a book. Something that is both dull and creepy at the same time like Love In The Time of Cholera.
Also, I consider all of you to be my little bro’s. I am, of course, The (big) Bro.
The sequel, Love in the Time of Chlamydia is more prescient. Especially with all the sex scenes between masked people…or maybe I just dreamed that, but it should be a thing..On my ‘To Do’ list
I recall having to read Love In The Time of Cholera for a course in college. All I remember is it being painfully boring.
Like being confined in solitary for a hundred years?
Who ever would have thought that a book about a guy stalking a women for decades would be so god damn boring?
Weapons? For gifts?
*faints*
You should be giving vintage Corelle.
It’s November, and the Posture Princess is back ringside.
http://www.sumoforum.net/forums/topic/40346-who-is-this-woman/
https://www.nj.com/news/2021/11/lunar-eclipse-to-turn-the-full-november-moon-into-a-blood-moon-when-how-to-see-it.html
https://www.wfmz.com/news/area/western-newjersey/kelsey-grammer-gives-fans-reason-for-cheers-in-visit-to-tavern-in-hunterdon-county/article_38956d96-4744-11ec-9db8-b7b9aff653c0.html
“The reboot of Frasier, we’re still crafting it”
Kelsey seems like a good guy and I always liked the character Frasier but please god no.
Today, in weird propaganda:
https://www.msn.com/en-xl/news/other/romania-photo-of-the-day-vaccination-certificate-issued-in-romania-more-than-150-years-ago/ar-AAQNZCM
Just because it’s been done for a long time doesn’t mean it’s right.
But people were much more responsible members of the community back then. Why do you hate the community?
‘Cause they are generally assholes?
Was it administered via two little side-by-side injections in your neck?
This remark was noted.
Maybe not FU money. https://lawandcrime.com/media/some-lawyers-think-covington-catholics-nick-sandmann-walked-away-from-media-lawsuits-with-peanuts
Ya know how when you come across some spoilt food or you get a stinkfinger, you have to share it so everyone can agree how awful it is? Watch this and join me in wishing ill on everyone involved (except for Gilbert Shelton; I hope he was given enough money to live out his remaining years how he pleases). https://youtu.be/M1RMuPpGYnk
Not only did they stuntcast F. Fredrick Skitty as a sassy black lady, they couldn’t even get Wanda Sykes for the role!
As the proud owner of all of the comics since I was a teen, just no. Everyone knows that FFC is a dude. That is nearly as bad as what Bakshi did to Crumb’s work.
My all-time favorite detective, F. Fredrick Skitty.
Thanks for nothing. I think I just got burned again.
You always get burned, FF!
Reverse nut-punch re: pain meds from an old friend of ours.
That IS good news.
***SIGH!!!*** I remember when Radley Balko was a crusader in that war. ?
Excellent. The ghouls who are denying meds to those who need them have clearly not experienced real pain. I’d be happy to provide that experience. /Not an actual threat.
suh’ fam
whats goody
Panic in the grocery aisles, shortages and lamentation. Judi went shopping over the past two nights and now all of the produce is cleaned the fuck out and meat too. She did manage to grab a big bag of TP. No riots yet but I’m halfway expecting them. She had to go to three different places just for the special pet stuff that we rely upon (no, it wasn’t another fox-tail buttplug, I’m well stocked ahead of Winter).
I’ve seen some footage, holy shit. Hang in there, friend.
It’s not that unprecedented but this is something that happens once every fifty years or so. Our society was not ready for calamity. Noses in phones.
Probably 1/2 of our population lives in condos and thinks that electricity comes out of those funny little holes in the wall. If we ever get that 9 Richter scale quake, we are done like dinner.
Huh. “another”
You always need a backup.
Is owning three enough?
The dry-cleaning bills are exorbitant, plus that Korean guy keeps looking at me funny.
It depends on 1) how many people will be wearing one and 2) how many different outfits they’ll be worn with.
Mornin’ peeps.
Sugar crusted marshmellow? No thanks.
Good Morning! Good Wednesday morning! Sugarfree awaits!
https://twitter.com/JackPosobiec/status/1460816537812668425?cxt=HHwWksC4pdi57sUoAAAA
Spicy.
Posobiec is the Salon of the right. Rittenhouse will be found guilty of lesser charges and Kenosha will burn unless the weather turns cold enough.
The right needs culture warriors too.
Wut?
It’s a trap.
Fallout 4 – I started “Open season” last night. I opened up by reverse pickpocketing a pulse grenade on Nisha.
I couldn’t even find her body to loot. Then I got drunk. I guess I’ll do the other gangs tonight.
I tend to wait until there are only two gangs left to start open season. Since I can’t stand her gang, they’re always the ones to try to take the power plant.
besides, my pickpocket is never high enough to not get caught.
I didn’t go along with the “plan” and didn’t assign any territories.
I was rather annoyed with Gage and look forward to shooting him in the face with a gauss rifle at the end of open season.
To go on topic just before the lynx arrive: I approve of a semi-mystical approach to life.
I just want the colorful robes and droning part.