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hooblie
climber
from out where the anecdotes roam
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Mar 30, 2018 - 09:52am PT
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going gaga for greenery out here
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Mar 30, 2018 - 04:46pm PT
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Things are seldom as bad as they seem with me, Dingus.
See, I have a resiliency and an attitude which accommodates most negatives, with the exception of bad manners and poor punctuation and misspelling and the worship of turds; and Republitards, Libtards, Coonyards, hard-top convertibles, emojis, light beer, bad breath (dogs excepted); video games, most posted rules, people who drive when they could walk, or who take more fish than the limit allows and never practice catch and release, jerks who "don't do" minimum impact, then bypass switchbacks, and drive slower than the speed limit.
Other than those things and a few that escape me at the moment, I manage to adapt to changes pretty quickly and with little fuss. Complaint departments seldom see me standing in line.
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throwpie
Trad climber
Berkeley
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Mar 30, 2018 - 04:47pm PT
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How did Randy‘s accident actually happen? I heard he zippered the line of rivets and hit the deck. Never got the full story. RIP buddy.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Mar 30, 2018 - 04:51pm PT
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A bolt he stood on fell out. His trail rope was clipped into the lower bolts. That's not how belays work. He decked and there wasn't a thing his belayer could do. End of story.
I don't think rivets were involved.
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Mar 30, 2018 - 05:29pm PT
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What did cuz Jackie say. Well let the man speak for hissownself,
But before he does, I'm shonuff happy about your health turnaround, man.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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Mar 30, 2018 - 05:37pm PT
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hey there say, mouse and all...
say, as to this, mouse:
So good news. Sort of apropos on Easter weekend, I think.
good to hear the good news...
say, thanks for the share of lonny johnson, or, i'd have not
known of him... and the neat story, too...
hooblie -- neat photo, once again, with the greens, this time...
and--
DMT-- did i miss something??? are not doing well??
please, can you fill in, just a bit...
*or, did i forget something that we already knew, a bit back???
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Mar 30, 2018 - 09:06pm PT
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Professor zBrown, thank you for that fine Boogie Woogie from OCL.
Music 102 -- Rock 'n' Roll Appreciation
Dr. Mouse
There may be an open screen quiz (class notes only, NO INTERNET) on April 2, this Monday.
March 31, 1949: The 45 rpm single record was first introduced by RCA Victor, one year after the LP record was introduced by Columbia. Both provided better sound quality and longer playing time than the 78 rpm that had been the standard. The speed of LP records is 33 1/3 rpm.
March 31, 1956: Brenda Lee made her television debut on Ozark Jubilee on ABC, singing "Jambalaya". We have no kinescope of this appearance on OJ, but here she is seen singing "Hound Dog" the following year.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yWyidN__W8k
March 31, 1958: Chuck Berry released "Johnny B. Goode". Also, "Tequila" by the Champs took over at #1 on the R&B chart. It went on to become one of The Top 10 Instrumentals of the Rock Era.
March 31, 1966: The Elvis Presley movie Frankie and Johnnie premiered in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.
March 31, 1967: Jimi Hendrix stunned fans at the Astoria in London, England when he poured lighter fluid on his Stratocaster guitar, smashed it, and set it on fire. Hendrix suffered hand burns, not to mention the burns to his ego, but it was the first of many times Hendrix would pull the stunt.
March 31, 1968: Bobby Sherman starred in an episode of The F.B.I. on ABC-TV.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
March 31, 1982: The Doobie Brothers announced they were breaking up after a farewell tour. This affected Michael Douglas' character in Jewel In the Nile, if you'll recall. Here is the rock-climbing segment from that landmark film.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Mar 30, 2018 - 09:19pm PT
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Hey there
say what -
Is there a pass/fail option
Ain't saying this is Jackie, Brian and Carne - ain't sayin' it ain't either
Pretty big hands for a white boy
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Mar 30, 2018 - 09:31pm PT
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No, but there are financial inducements which will help to remedy failing grades and enhance already satisfactory records. This applies to all TFU classes, of course!
Mr. Wilson's out on the streets and lookin' good, BTW.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Mar 30, 2018 - 09:46pm PT
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News of the Dead who aren't
Considering his often contentious history with the Machiavellian Lesh and his manager-wife, Jill, it’s a miracle that Weir can coexist in the same area code with him let alone play on the same stage. But then his love of the music and his need for income can heal a lot of wounds
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Drawing on myriad sources, including a number of stories that appeared in the IJ, Selvin chronicles the roiling internal politics as the surviving bandmates — Weir, Lesh and drummers Mickey Hart and Bill Kreutzmann — regroup and try to carry on in various configurations as the Other Ones, Furthur, the Dead, Dead and Company, Ratdog, Phil & Friends, the Rhythm Devils and 7 Walkers, to name a few.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Mar 30, 2018 - 09:58pm PT
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Gnome, this one's for your lurkin' self. Good to garble with ya today!
Leather yarmulkes? Sheesh!
Fare Thee Well, okay?
Cumberland Blues - Bobby & Phil Duo 3-8-18 Boston
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l1kh4_hriC0
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hooblie
climber
from out where the anecdotes roam
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Mar 31, 2018 - 03:16am PT
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Mar 31, 2018 - 03:55am PT
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^^^Man o man! Great lighting, sir.
Astounding facts, if true...
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Mar 31, 2018 - 07:43am PT
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Another rejected thread topic:
The Oldest Profession Is Not For Women Only.
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Mar 31, 2018 - 09:10am PT
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Submitted for your consideration by The Red Rocker, The Prince of Darkness, Jackie "Sonny" Wilson, and Diamond Dave {Special guest appearance by the Wobbler}
[Click to View YouTube Video]
Jackie's first recordings were on Dee Gee Records. My bro worked there, but never mentioned speaking with :Sonny:. That phone booth is rumoured to be where Steve Reeves used to change clothes (he traded Orange Stamps there was youth).
Jacquie played this affair July, 1953
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Bushman
climber
The state of quantum flux
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Mar 31, 2018 - 11:35am PT
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Dante eh? Grazie Sir Mouse,
...also, for the Flames thread;
The Vessel
Now such is our story as stories go
One Saturday eve when we had to go
With tickets to Verdi’s sad Rigoletto
While parking there before the show
The last garage was almost closed
So down and down and down we drove
To what level we did not know
Where deeper down my patience slowed
As several parking cones were mowed
God knows who else was indisposed
While swerving down those endless rows
To finally pull in by a nose
We parked somewhat all juxtaposed
Between the stairs and a firehose
We saw the elevator sign
Approaching as though by design
The light flickered just once then died
Which startled me I will not lie
As much as when a rat ran by
We found our way by cellphone light
To a stairwell chained and locked nearby
Where the elevator door was pried
All exit there on foot denied
Returning to our car to split
The engine stumbled once then quit
A single exclamation sh#t
Issued from my angry lips
As we resigned to wait and sit
Locked in our car as we took small sips
From a water bottle and ate some chips
With no cel transmission to emit
We settled down in our sunken ship
Discussing how we’d come to grips
With a war or zombie apocalypse
I did not know how long we’d slept
But the air was stale as a chill then crept
Suggesting I’d go search a bit
From the car door to my feet I leapt
In the silent darkness of that crypt
My feeble plan of action yet
To look for others in a similar fix
Her sigh prolonged then she let slip
Inquiring if I was so inept
To venture on out so ill equipped
With a dead cellphone and money clip
I bent the money clip around
Into a crude blade lest I found
Some conflict as I slunk around
Tip-toeing there without a sound
As darkness weighed upon my brow
Carefully as not to fall down
Where rats were likely to abound
In silence forward I made ground
From car to car I slowly prowled
But no-one coughed nor child howled
Reporting back to my curious wife
We talked about our new found strife
Adjusting to catacombs dark as night
How to adapt to the mole folk’s life
Regardless of outcome luck or tripe
Accepting whatever came down the pipe
We’d not resign as neophytes
But learn to live deprived of light
And not give in but fight the fight
And stepping out there from our car
We search the darkness near and far
Prying at car doors with a tire bar
We pilfered one old kit-kat bar
And three green olives in a jar
Two water bottles and a burnt cigar
Through silence as their shrieks did mar
I fought two rats with an old guitar
Until something cried out from afar
In an eerie timbre most bizarre
Like the mournful wail of big jaguar
In this loathsome pit as our last memoir
We’d declared our own little private war
Defended by keys and a lone crowbar
As exhaustion came in the endless depth
We retreated back to the car and slept
The eternal night had its own precepts
By such darkness we had come to accept
Old wrappers strewn in our unkempt mess
A garbage pit where we couldn’t care less
What belied our base inmost essence
Our wretchedness would describe it best
Night creatures abandoned to the crypt
As our dreams described us as much less
Now finding our way by torch pell mell
On another of forays around that hell
Going on three days we’d begun to smell
A condition we’d slunk to I’m loathe to tell
The heat requiring less clothing as well
As our grimy faces alone would dispel
The luckless monsieur or mademoiselle
As now we’d become more prone to excel
At car burglaries as one might foretell
This larceny drove our primitive selves
More than our common sense would allow
And our purpose once to exit this vessel
Abandoned for mayhem the final knell
At three days forsaken to this pit
I thought we dreamed a dream to wit
Around a bonfire of trash we sat
Roasting a can of cured ham on a spit
We sang out of tune ‘till our voices quit
After eating in silence we put on our hats
And got up to stare at the fire for a bit
Her dress a ‘tatter as no words were said
An old bandanna adorned my head
We wildly waltzed to songs in our heads
Then to and fro we do-si-doed
Between burning rows of trash we’d lit
As dreams are dreamt we’d never know it
So we danced awhile then slept a bit
So as not to bore let our fates be known
Lest yawns do stifle a wearisome moan
In furtherance of a loathsome groan
My story lambasted or harpooned
A dreadful tale sorely impugned
Or the very least mocked and lampooned
For so it was in the dark marooned
We found our second honeymoon
Awaking there in an amorous mood
With fumbling furtive and less crude
Than that first coupling of our youth
Where afterwards as things would go
We slept the sleep of angels woah
And did not wake for hours although
A light then shone upon us yo
A rap on the glass and a bright white light
Did pierce our near eternal night
As I saw out through sheltered eyes
A security guard of considerable size
Discovering us most compromised
Our sweat soaked nakedness unwise
As my spouse woke up and realized
Like teenagers caught out date night
Our awkward state most ill advised
She glared at me with nostrils wide
Assigning with fault who to despise
As I signaled we’d vacate our site
And the guard moved on without a fight
Well the engine started don’t you know
As we eased out of there nice and slow
With sunglasses and our hat brims low
In the bright sunshine and a blinding glow
Two moles at daybreak timid and slow
Squinting our eyes all the way back home
We slunk to the house at just past nine
And slept all day with the curtains down
Never rose ‘till night beyond supine
We dwelled indoors for a week or so
Only venturing out in the evening time
Well so it happened not so long ago
As date nights go a near fiasco
The opera comes and the opera goes
Still we haven’t gone back for Rigoletto
But to this day we still don’t know
If ever to a parking garage we’ll go
-bushman
03/30/2018
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