I Am Elvis

Last month was some sort of Elvis month thing. Not really a big fan, and don’t follow the news on him much, so I assume it was some sort of celebration of his birth, or death, or something or other.

A couple months ago I was in NYC for the Licensing Show, and stopped by the Elvis booth. EPE, or Elvis Presley Enterprises, is the faceless machine that keeps him alive, scooping up gobs of money for the use of his name and likeness. There is no reason to believe EPE won’t be doing the same thing a hundred years from now.

It kind of creeps me out. I was walking around a huge booth with giant images of Elvis, music and video pouring out from various spots around the booth, and bright shiny young people in suits and dresses shaking hands and handing out Elvis Info Packets.

I wonder, do these dead celebrities plan on these things when they are still alive? Do they sit at a conference table with their managers and loved ones and review images, models for miniatures and dolls, napkins, table cloths, plush toys and all sorts of licensed goods to get the stamp of approval while they still breathe?

Does a ‘After Death Marketing Specialist’ layout the 50 year plan…” Mr. Elvis, we are really excited about this part here…approximately 30 years after your death we will launch an exciting new line of apparel including scarves, boots and jumpsuits. Our finance team expects to generate some significant licensing revenue with this campaign and believe it will set up your ‘Death Plus 40 Years” promotion centered around home décor! We hope you LOVE it!”

Or, perhaps, it just isn’t mentioned and the rights to do this in perpetuity after their death are neatly tucked into various legal documents that are signed while watching TV and eating fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

Mean Activist People Scare Me

This world is getting meaner. People that spout “tolerance!” show anything but when people don’t agree with them.

In LA a few months ago, nice people heading out to get into their SUVs and head to work found their tires slashed and profance notes telling them they were killing the planet.

Today I saw a car that had a yellow ribbon showing support for our troops and someone had used a permenant black marker to scribble all over it and write on the car “murderers.” Then of course there are the absolutely insane people that want to stop abortion by bombing clinics and killing abortion providers. The world is teetering on its axle and about to spin out of control.

A few weeks ago our family pulled up to a restaurant, and as I got out of the car I noticed a hand-written note under the windshield wiper of the car next to us. I read it and was saddened. The car next to us had one simple, small bumper sticker- a W a few inches high and wide placed discretely on the back window.

The note spewed hate. The writer ripped the driver of the car up and down, and a KIND version of what he said went something like this:

“You are complete ass****. I don’t know how you people can live with yourselves. How can you support a moron, murderer and liar like George Bush! You make me so mad I could kill you and the world would be a better place without trash like you. I bet you don’t even have kids in Iraq. You send other people’s kids off to Iraq to get killed and its your fault. I hate you and hope you die a painful death and rot in hell.”

Good news, I tore the note up and the person that owned the car never got it. I am sure his/her meal was good, and when he came out to the car he didn’t have his evening ruined.

Bad news- there is no freedom of speech if you don’t agree with some people. I would never put any bumper stickers on my car that communicated my positions on issues. I learned that lesson along time ago. America has changed.

We Have No Idea

This morning I gleaned through the headlines on the Drudge Report and bounced around a few other news sites like ABC, Fox News, AP, Reuters and Breitbart. After a few minutes something I had read over faily quickly started to sink in. My subconscious sort of asked my heart, “wait- do you realize what you read a few minutes ago and passed right over just as quickly as the story about CBS “Kid Nation” controversy?”

It started to sink in, and I went back to the story: “Rocket Lands by Israeli Day Care Center.”

9 Kuds-3 rockets were fired into Israel from the Gaza strip this morning. A Islamic Jihad website said that the attack was "a present for the start of the new school year." One of the rockets had landed in the play yard of the pre-school (while in session), and 12 people, including some babies, suffered shock and a building was damaged.

How absolutely sick is that? How do the parents in these areas- Jews and Arabs alike- live like this? Last year our youngest girl finished her last year at Berry’s Chapel Pre-school. I cant imagine how I would feel if I got word that rockets had landed in the playground of her pre-school. Firstly, I would have to be restrained by police because I would find out who did it and make their life miserable… and likely shortened by some great amount. If there was a hint it would happen again and no one could stop it, I would do whatever it took to get the heck out of here to find somewhere people valued life.

I simply can not imagine such a life. A place where death can rain down from the sky at any moment.

Spaghetti Bolognese And A Nice Merlot

Last night Michelle made spaghetti bolognese (fancy name for spaghetti and meat sauce) and I cracked open our last bottle of merlot. Its time for another trip to stock up soon.

After dinner I retired to my office to get in a few hours of work- it’s the end of the month and time for documenting the months work and issuing invoices. It’s the worst time of the month for me. If I have to do it, a large glass of merlot along for the ride at least makes it bearable.

So, a couple hours later I took my last swig and savored the end of the house wine. As I did I felt something in my mouth, and thought perhaps (sorry for the grossness here, but it gets worse) a bit of basil or pasta had been caught in my teeth and had washed out in the wine. I picked the bit of food off my tongue with my fingers and was about to toss it into the garbage can when I realized what it was. I froze. I stared. My stomach turned. I grabbed my wine glass and spit whatever I could out of my mouth into it.

It was a fly.

About a half hour or so before I had finally rid myself of a bothersome fly that kept buzzing around my head. I grabbed a DVD case and swatted away. I was certain I made contact- I heard something- but I wasn’t able to find the victim. I searched around the desk and on the floor, but no dead fly body. Now I know what became of him.

I ran and got a glass of water, washed my mouth out several times, and started to feel sick. I assured myself that any nasty bacteria or other germs on the fly were killed by the alcohol in the merlot…but I’m not entirely sure of that. By the way, If you’re looking for a nice merlot that is affordable, tastes great, and has body, try Toasted Head.

Picture and Story 10

Sometimes a throw-away picture- one you snap for fun and don't think much about- ends up capturing something you can't put into words.

This is L. It captures so much of her. Her good heart, kind look, loving gentle smile, and playful spirit.