Time Flies, and So Do I

Has it really been almost a week since I posted anything? Shocking. I apologize to my legions of readers, but I can give a few reasons why this has happened:

• I love that picture of Tony Danza so much that I wanted to keep it at the top of the page as long as possible.

• I spent yesterday in transit between Oakland and Kansas City, a jaunt which included a long stretch inside a 777 sitting on the ground while a maintenance crew replaced the plane’s starter. This led to a tight connection in Denver, which led to delayed luggage, which led to a basically very long day all around.

• The weekend was occupied with a) a preview of the upcoming hit multimedia property Mankind’s Last Hope and b) many hours on the set of a feature film called Homeworld. Among the things I’ve learned from this experience: The filmmaking, it is very tiring. One wakes up very early, moves around a lot, and spends extended periods of time straining to remain focused while nothing much is happening. Tomorrow I plan to write a bit about my movie adventure; but first, I think, another nap.

Hold Me Closer, (Your Name Here)


You know the Elton John song “Tiny Dancer”? It goes like this:

Hold me closer, tiny dancer

Well tonight, a certain young person told me that she’d always thought Elton was saying

Hold me closer, Tony Danza

And now I’ll never hear the song the same way again. I’m happy about that.

Where’s Walton?


That’s an easy one — in this picture of the groundbreaking for the Martin Luther King memorial, that’s him at top left, towering over everyone and smirking as Jesse Jackson embraces Andrew Young. The question is, why is he there? Does The Most Annoying Man in Sportscasting History have some connection to the civil rights movement of which I am ignorant? Maybe so; in all fairness, Walton seems like a decent enough sort, aside from his superhuman annoyingness. Maybe he was there at King’s side back in the day, saying things like, “The whole concept of separate but equal is horrrible, Mart.” But still, it seems strange.

And while we’re at it, who’s that on his right, looking aghast? The caption on SF Gate, from which I shamelessly stole this picture, describes her as “an unidentified woman.” Maybe fashion designer Tommy Hilfiger, looking spiffy but disoriented in the red tie, knows her. Wait, Tommy Hilfiger? Why and wherefore? Oh, never mind.

Anvil Club


We’re all familiar with media depictions of someone — often an anthropomorphized animal, such as a coyote — having an anvil dropped on him. Yet how many of us have any real experience of having an anvil dropped on us, or contrariwise of being the one to drop an anvil on a fellow mammal?

Isn’t this really the problem with our modern world, that we are so detached from the reality of concrete things such as anvils?