Sterno 'n' Me or what I did on my vacation

Up into the air junior bird men

2006-08-25T04:57:31Z

This weekend I will be getting on an airplane to go to Chicago.

Will I see you? Will you see me? indeed, somewhere in the crowd of people at the Viceroy of India I will be. Probably not as you remember me, or even as you might have imagined. I look more like my father now than my father ever did when he was my age, which was 22 years ago. Can this be a good sign? I am sure it can't be all bad.

Do you know where you're going to? My god, the theme from Mahogany just slipped into my LJ. OUT DAMNED SPOT.

I wish I could say something that would sooth me. But I do not look forward to the plane ride or the drive in. I will look forward to seeing old friends. Maybe thats you. If its not, thats OK too. (to? two? too?) ... err also. Wish I would have actually learned something in school.

If I raise a finger in response, will you cut it off?

Sterno would know the answer, so would zhuang tz. Is that enlightenned or just apery. Will my one question zen enlighten you? What is the sound of one finger snapping? one dog napping? one duck quacking? If a tree falls in the forest, should you run away?

Tell me on Sunday.

I see a bad moon risin'

2006-08-09T03:39:40Z

I see earth quakes and lightning, I see bad times today.

There's a bad moon on the rise.

it was there when we met, you and I. We saw the moon and the stars, we saw the sun and it blinded us to thought.

Together we ate, drank, had fun, shared grief and sorrow. We drank too much, we did, we ate too much as well.

We laughed at everyone and they laughed at us. We worked side by side, we lived under the same roof.

You were there for me when I wed and when she left. I was there when you wed, and when she left.

You and I hosted the party of the year, all year, all at once and through the months that became more.

I loved you as I loved my own. You were, to me, a brother. My twin who is not twin. We who were nothing but different were always side by side the same man with the same thought.

You woke me with a song too often, but never enough.

it's overcast and cloudy in the sky where the moon belongs. A chill wind blows thru my heart. Awoken with a bad moon, and asleep in our sunday best. Excitable boys we were.

We did take in the 4:00 A.M. show at the clark. You did bite the usherettes leg in the dark.

I dare say if there is something left for you to do, you will do it with the same verve that you did everything else. Save me a seat my friend, save me a seat and we can track down some of the others who are there as well. Save me a seat for time of this mortal coil is weakly short, our bodies frail, our minds sometimes too. If there is something left to do, a place left to go, save me a seat my brother, my friend, my other mind. Save me a seat indeed for we have yet to finish this long conversation.

I will love you as my own, like the brother you are and always were. You who were me, yet not me.

For family left behind I say only this. He loved many people, but surely you the best.

I will cry for you now, no, not for you. I will cry for myself now, for I have lost a piece of myself tonight. I feel very alone.

My god, what IS that thing?

2006-08-01T03:34:14Z

Replacing a cat is simple, you go to the animal rescue place, and simply choose from the miriad of options. What kinda cat does this net? I am not certain, its a kitten, and not even old enough to be on its own. We have "reserved" it. I fear that nothing good can come from this, as the kitten was born to be abandoned, and raised in its formative years in a shelter that is nothing more than an industrial warehouse. But, what the heck, someone had to give this cat a home, or it would simply spoil in the shelter. So we done it.

Now for the difficult part, I believe that cats gain their name over time, my wife, on the other hand believes that you name them when you get them.

"How about cocoa?" she calls out.... she is online studying the weighty issues of cat naming.
"Whats wrong with monster?" I yell back.
"I Like Cocoa" she insists, "or how about chaos?"

"Chaos is alright, it doesn't seem like the kinda name you would pick."

"It used to be my nickname" she calls back.

Well, so much for that, I put it to you, what do you call a brand new cat?
If we take your suggestion, we will donate $100.00 to a local cat shelter so they can continue feeding the wretched animals.

Lemme know...

It's a long way to Rip and Tear me

2006-03-20T05:45:48Z

The layout of the original Chez was that of a galley apartament.

It had an offset entry with a coat closet, slight jog to the right and you come to the main hallway. Kitchen and dinnet were on the right, a little further down the hallway was Sterno's room, right, bathroom left, then my room, on the right, then a little ways further and the livingroom at the end. It overlooked the street.

If you came in the front door some days, you might find Sterno and I taking target practice. We had a very nice hair dart board hung on the wall at the end of the hallway (you remember that jog I mentioned, it had a dart boart on it and a closet behind it). Seems to me we never actually bought darts for the thing, although I recall rono may have had some. We did have a nice pistol crossbow, some throwing knives, and sterno had a compound bow at one point. (Did you know that a compund boy can not only go thru a dart board, but it can also send a shaft halfway into the closet as well?)

If you went into the kitchen you saw just how nice the place was. While the kitchen was sparten, it had to saving graces. beer (and lots of it) and a red pot.

Sterno remembers the red pot. It not only nourished our bodies and souls, it fed our brains. We ate a lot of mac and cheese (who wanted to spend money on other stuff when you could buy beer and JD with it?). Sterno liked to add things to Mac and cheese, so often it would come with ground meat, spices, onions, scallions, and other items. I tended to make it fresh every time, but I remember one run when Sterno seemed to want to keep the same pot of leftovers going for a while. Every night after work that pot got fresh stuff dumped in while it was reheating. New mac & cheese. fresh ground meat. new vegetables, different spices. But all mixed with the original "Red Pot Starter" Sterno had made. We ate that for a while actually. But then one weekend, we decided to drive somewhere on saturday, which we did, on sunday we returned home and discovered to our astonishment, that the grump in the Red pot was no longer food. Missing just one or two nights of reheating had caused it to expose its true budha nature to use, it had grown to a sentient being, almost capable of locomotion. While it fascinated us, it also repelled us (sometimes, the smell of fridge made lifeforms can be a little overpowering).

We had to euthenize the red-pot entity that night as it made the beers taste funny. I still remember our friend from the red pot when I meet up with any of its relitives. Mom gave me that Pot when I set out on my own, we ate out of it for a while, and then we threw it away, with its semi-sentient life form still struggling to break free contained theirin.

Sometime, when my stomach can take it, remind me to tell all of you about the drain bunnies that grew their own legs.

Speaking of Budha nature, may I quote from the Stumonkuan?

Yamadah Yoshi and Lil' Stevie were walking one day in the eternal forest.
Lil Stevie asked yoshi, 'What is the sound of one hand clapping?"
yoshi reached out and slapped steve very hard on the side of his face leaving a large welt.
Yoshi then said 'Can you now tell me what the sound was?"
"Ouch" bawled Stevie "You bitch, I am gonna cap your ass"
with that stevie pulled out his nine and busted a cap in yoshi's ass.
as yoshi fell, so did a tree in the forest. neither made a sound.
with that Lil' Stevie was indicted.

Ciao for then, groovy and out.

Remember, "That eye ain't gonna poke itself, young man"

Who is this person?
http://www2.plala.or.jp/TFC/

primarily parietaly pestered

2006-02-08T16:44:51Z

Some of you have been asking and wondering what exactly is wrong with his brain anyway? Well, I offer a non-sterno and me entry today. I do so because the rest of you may not be familiar with what occurred. Sterno, of course, understood right away having seen the inside of many a brain pan, so I imagine this will be of little interest to him. Nor will it be of much interest to you, but thats what you get for being curious!

For those listeners who are not Sterno I give you :

A craniotomy is the surgical removal of a section of bone (bone flap) from the skull for the purpose of operating on the underlying tissues, usually the brain. The bone flap is replaced at the end of the procedure. If the bone flap is not replaced, the procedure is called a craniectomy. A craniotomy is used for many different procedures within the head, for trauma, tumor, infection, aneurysm, etc. In my case, the bone flap was large enough to get the doctors whole hand through.

What I had was a rather large saccular aneurysm (2.4 CM, or a little over an inch) that was behind my left eye underneath my brainial tissue. It was large enough that Endovascular Embolization was quite out of the question. In fact it was so large that I needed 5 clips to keep me from bleeding to death inside my brainium. Since this is a main arterial line that feeds both brain tissue and eyeball muscles, occlusion was also not an option. I am told that 12 hours of surgery is not common, IF you keep your heart beating the WHOLE time instead of letting it get lazy and taking five, it can take quite a bit less time. I am also told that 5 clips is rather a lot of titanium in the cranium, That may also be, but the good news is you can tell the difference between ferromagnetic and non-ferromagnetic metal detectors at the airport (I am please to report that Appleton Wisconsin is quite up to date with both types and were able to detain me on my journey because my clips set off the dingus.)

So, there is your full and complete disclosure about WHAT was wrong with my headular regions. How did they find it? thats a funny story...

My boss was giving me a headache (we were doing headcount planning or something that week) and by thursday i was tired of it. I told my boss I had a persistant recurring headache and needed to see a doctor. So i left work early that day. Not wanting to be a liar, I went to the "Doc In the Box" and explained that I had this headache. He said, "its stress you dingus, take these here narcotic pills and get some rest." EXCELLENT! rest and opiates!!!! on my way out he said "Hey, you are over 40, I want you to take this slip and go have a MRI done on your brain. You might have a tumor". 'Really?" i asked "A tumor?" 'Well, thats really unlikely given the amount of stress at work, but your insurance will pay for it, and who knows, its possible, its just an MRI, nothing to worry about, 5 minutes of pictures and you are done. Just have it done some time this year, for piece of mind."

I went home, and my other boss (or should I say, Wife) looked at the scrap of paper that I had from the MRI dealeybob and noticed that I was gonna be getting a head MRI. After 2 minutes of question and answer she was on the phone arguing with the MRI lab. after 1/2 hour of intensive arguing, they relented and told her they could "see me tomorrow". I laughed and told her she was getting carried away for no real reason.

Upon arriving home from my MRI the "next day", the phone rang not 5 minutes after we got in. The MIR people said, come back again tomorrow. We want more pictures. 'Why?" demanded my wife. "Of, we just want to get a better look at this thing, its not a big deal". So, my wife called HER neurologist, who is extremely busy and said I needed to see her right away. Her neurologist said that I could get an appointment in 6 to 8 weeks. Another 1/2 hour of arguing with the nurse at the desk (who is really quite nice) my wife secured the promise that the MRI results could be sent over to the doctor and she would take a quick look and tell us if there was anything to worry about. So, I went for my second MRI (this time with "contrast" or that burney injection that makes your head feel like its being boiled). And while we were on our way home the MRI people developed the new pictures and walked them across the street to my wifes neurologist (they all are around the same hospital, what a clever idea!)

By the time we got home the phone was ringing. (apparently it had been ringing for some time) It was the nice person from the neurologists office. She informed my wife that I had an appointment to see the doctor the very next day (hmmmm, thats wierd, I though she was booked solid for quite some time).

Well, I got to the doctors office and sat down in the waiting room. My neurologist came out (I suppose she's mine now since I see her more than my wife does) to the WAITING ROOM and knelt down, gently took my hand and asked "So, how are you feeling?" (HOLY CRAP! I AM GONNA DIE FROM SOMETHING HORRIBLE!!!!!!)

I didn't even get to go home that evening, she sent me right to the hospital for immediate doctoring. She praised us for our general calm demeanor in the face of having only a few weeks to contemplate my naval before my brain exploded and I dropped dead (Really, she said i was gonna drop dead inside a few month, a fact that post surgically was confirmed by the doctors who peered into my brainium).

Anyway, thats how my wife saved my life. With the help of some doctors and a boss who was being a pain inna da buttocs.

NOTE:Brainium, headular regions, and Brainular Tissue are not actual medical terms and the repetision of them to an actual medical profesional can lead to uncontrolled snickering.

Dingus is NOT a technical term, however, engineers are not smart enough to know that, so feel free to use it wherever without fear of snickering.

Einstein under Glass

2006-02-07T01:40:07Z

Once, while listening to a CD I had a terrible poem. It came out and bounced on the floor. One editor thought it should be preserved from its fate and printed for the few, the proud, the english majors.

Well, I was listening to the piece of music that inspired this mess and I thought I would now post it on the internet for all to read and abhore.

It was written while listening to the piece of music about 20 times in a row (its 4 CDs long)

No, I doubt you know it (unless you like extremely repetative modern synth/synphonic music, or unless your name is Sterno or some_mensch), yes the punctuation and capitalization are where they are supposed to be, and no... well, just no.

I give you the renamed "Elbow prose on a Knee Play" (I was told the subtitle was better than the real title, so I changed it, damned editors!)

Einstein under Glass

The more I listen, the more complex it gets.
The music swells and dips.
The more I listen, the more complex it.
The music darts in and out.
The more I listen the more complex.
The smallest swellings of a Mantra enter my ears.
The more I listen.
And I start to understand.
The more I.
Realizing the fact that from chaos comes calmness.
The More.
Calmness as an undercurrent.
The more I listen the more.
The overtones outshadow the real meanings of it all.
The more I listen the more
I understand.
The music darts in and out.
The more I listen the more I understand
And Realize.
The music swells and dips.
The more I listen, the more I understand and realize
That the music is very very
simple.

Well, thats what you get for reading this long. Hope it was worth it, but I understand that its probably not. You should get some sleep and try to forget this whole poetic episode.

A story post apocalyptically endured

2006-02-05T05:54:10Z

Last night, I read the newspaper and it had a game on the cruciverbal page. I wrote a tool to finish it for me, which seemed much easier than actually solving the thing myself. I offer you one and only one piece of that tool today, and maybe another pieces in the future. I solve puzzles now because it lets my wife know that I am not grey matter challenged.

I told an old friend the other day that I would endevour to add more to this journal. I realize that I can not keep up a high pace as others of you seem to do. writing for me causes nausea and vomiting. but write I must, lets the stories fall out of my head and onto the floor. The floor, you realize, is no place for a story, they get lint on them when on the floor. Then the dog comes by and licks them. No, stories do not belong on the floor. But tonight will be no cogent story. tonight you have to suffer through the mental anguish I suffer when I try to recall something specific from those heady years.

So, tell me a story unka some_mensch, tell me about when you and sterno were too young to be charged as an adult for anything less than murder. Charged? did you do something illegal? NAY! not that night, at any rate. I am just listening to young deborah harry stein sing about being an x-offender. No story for you youngster. Now, go to bed.

Sterno's stereo was a hodgepodge of components. He had a uber high quality but old collection of crap. Mine, was more up to date, as I bought it all with my unsightly booty that I gots from working too hard at the hardly working store. He listened to that crap he listened to, and I listened to my own version of crap. I believe I wore a groovy into george harrison's opus 4 disc creation "all things must pass" and of course all 4 ear splitting sides of quadrophenia. Yeah little ones, these were record albums, not certificates of deposit.

"Wow unka some_mensch, are you so old you remember records?" remember them? I was on my third stereo before kyocera and sony released the very first compact disc digital audio players in these here united states of comerica. Poor sterno and blondie and ron & mr. sleepy time, and the rest. You see, once I purchased my cdda player (actually, I believe the youngsters abrieviate that CD player now), the first one audio insultants sold, and the first one ever sold in our town. I went to the local rose records and bought EVERY CD ever made (there were 10 different titles at the time) I think they musta heard tubular bells and yellow brick road a thousand times.

Did I mention Mr. Sleepy time? geez I added another name to the mix, maybe. He was some freakish buddy of Ron-o's. They slept under the dinnet set one summer. That Mr. Sleepytime could sleep 20 hours a day. He was animated long enough to eat, shit, shower, and drink enough beer to put himself to sleep. What the hell did they teach at Case Western Reserve University & School of Truck Driving? (of yeah, bar tending and drinking I guess...)

hmmm, why was I talking about stereo's and beer? maybe it had something to do with musical theatre and cult movies?

We attended the midnight single feature at the biograph on and off, too many times to count (but I am certain Phoenix counted and could tell you). Before the Chez and during the Chez. Many people went in costume, Sterno and I went in our normal daily finery. There were, after all, plenty of large men in fish net stockings, and changing cloths was work. We stood there winter and summer, in line with teenage angst gone horribly wrong. Not our angst, mind you, no neither Sterno nor myself felt much of that stuff. Maybe we were sociopathic, maybe we were dumb and happy, maybe the gods smilled on us because the sacrifice of the chemistry teachers daughter was a success and did in fact bring the sun back. You should ask Sterno some time about why he had to take the teachers daughter to the prom.

You see, we liked music. I am sure we still do. Right now I am listening to music, or what passed for it when Bonnie Tyler was a top 10 star. Holy crap, am I really listening to "Turn around bright eyes"????? I better change the iPod. Ah, Bow Wow Wow, much better, and yet still super craptacular.

No, I remember what I was thinking of, Mike Nesmith's visionary cable TV channel (Yes, the very same Mike Nesmith who's mother invented liquid paper!) You see, the song just came on my iPod, the song that my brain knew was coming up. I leave off today with a simple question. Which beauty shop chair were you sitting in when the buggles came on the TV screen and told us all about how the radio star was dead? Me? I was inebriated and I spent 2 solid days watching that waste of technology.

Did I mention that my wife had a bit part in "Television parts"?

'i got a pocket full of quarters and I am headed to the arcade..."

John Stewart has moments of zen, I leave you with a koan of a different form:

int testAColumn(gameBoard *g, int colStart) {

int canBe;
int mustBe;
int didChange = 0;

int x, y, myMask;

for (x=1; x<10; x++) {
myMask = 1<

[Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<x;>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.]

Damned doctor

2006-02-04T05:17:42Z

Where the hell was I???

I can't even remember the last post that I made or why I was writing about whatever the hell I was writing about. Geez, you would think someone who spent the past 27 years in the computer industrywould know how to use a computer...

I blame the doctors, they touched my brain and killed me and then unkilled me, and now I can't remember how to tie my velcro shoes. Bastards. Where was I? I think I was talking about Sterno and me, and phoenix, and some guy from cleve land, say wasn't that where howard the duck and leah thompson were from? or was that drew carry and charlie sheen?

Did I mention Sterno and I used to have this apartament? we called it the Chez Sterno. And why not? it had to be called something, and calling it "that roach infested hole on hinman avenue" seemed inapropriate. Say, warren just saw a were wolf with a chinese menu in his hand. He was walking thru the streets of seattle in the rain.

We used to hear a lot from warren, but we also heard a lot about bad moons rising. I think our down stairs neighbor wanted to kill Sterno! every morning like clockwork (no, really, it was attached to his clock I think). Out would come the dulcet tones of castrate drunk sourthern rockers singing about moons rising that were not very good. When I want to remember when life was simple, I put on Sterno's alarm clock and turn it up as loud as it will go. You can imagine how happy that makes my wife.

Jeepers, this recording is uber crappy. Well, thats OK as well, who really cares about fidelity when discussing pot roast pectoral massage?

I just realized that I am now about to disapoint you all, Today's story isn't a story at all, just a random fragment from my once drug addled brain. Drugs? which one of you guys mentioned drugs? You know, most people thought that Sterno and me must be taking more drugs than I think is humanly possible. Thats not true, although we did imbibe, and that right often (well at least I did, Sterno drank so damned much beer, I think he woulda had a hard time locating pills or lighting a pipe). "We didn't stop until we got to big cypress", well, thats not specifically true. In fact we stopped on our way our of town "Can I take your order?" the box squalked at us. "How many hamburgers do you got in there?" I inquired "um, what?" that box sure asked a lot of questions."Hamburgers, I want 25 hanburgers", 'and a quarter pounder" chimmed sterno "and a fish sandwich". 'Yes, I added, and a quarter pounder and a fish sandwich", "um, 25 hamburgers?" (for my next trick I'll need a volenteer) "uh, did you want anything to drink?" "yes", I replied" I want a extra large diet coke, and..." "and a coke and a milk" chimmed in Sterno. 'Right, and a super large coke and a milk" "um, 25 hamburgers, a quarter pounder, a fillet-o-fish, an extra large coke, and extra large diet, and a milk, did you want any fries or an Apple pie with that?" "Nah," I said "those deep fried foods are really bad for ya". We drove around and picked up our bounty.

Sometime around midnigh we were cruising thru the middle of the indiana toll road speeding our way towards certain oblivion. You see, Sterno and I were on a mission, our buddy Ron was in cleve land and xmas was coming fast. For some reason we decided we were gonna drive to cleve land (thats in oh, hiya) and pick Ron up so's we could give him a ride over to his girl friends house. (funny story about that girl friend, I ended up divorcing her, or she me, who can ever remember. Blondie will be her name-o) around morning we were driving into a snow covered cleve land, and if I remember properly, the car did a complete 720 degree spin while trying to stop on the highway, either Sterno and I both died, or nothing really bad actually happened. At any rate, it WAS a fun automotive spin. On the way back to Chicago, we made Ron eat day old cold McDonalds hamburgers. We were such dicks.

Phoenix also dated that girl, you know I never did date her, She just kinda moved in after one party at the chez. She keeps bee's now (No, I do not know if its against their will or not), I believe that Myself, Phoenix and Rono moved on.

Strange, Sterno and I NEVER ended up dating the same girl. Tiger and I did, Ron and I did, Phoenix and I did, mikey and I both were married to buzz aldrins wife one night at the 10 year high school reunion, but not sterno and me. we knew a lot of the same girls, and we both had pretty darned good taste I think. We were natty dressers (Sterno, you remember blondies sweet 16 party at the magic pan restaraunt? we were both so natily dressed!) I still have photo's of us in our finery. We both had a few different girl friends, but for some reason our lists never seemed to cross. Imagine that. (Now warren's shit's fucked up, will he never stop this singing stuff?)

Was I telling a story? lemme re-read... nope, better not, then I might edit, and we know how bad EDITING can be! I will leave that for the good story tellers.

Actually, I will also let the real writers edit their works. I dated a girl who was a very good writer, her name was "That girl who wrote the hastey banana story" or Eby for short. she wrote a good story. I lost track of her, which is a shame, because she is really quite an entertaining conversationalist. You would like her, if you knew her, which I suspect you all do. I once showed her picture to my dance partner so knee (or "sony" for short) (I doubt you met her), Sony has the same taste in women that I do, and she felt that eby was a gem. Sony rated all my old girl friend photos once. You will be happy to know she liked em all. Sony and I danced the tango, but this was well after the grand masque and ball in alameda.

Was I talking about science fiction club? no, I think not, Was it road trips? Maybe the time Sterno and I drove foose to college and visited northfield? or was it the trip to michigan? No, now I remember, It was raining that night, and I was driving a green old mobile of some sort, lost traction under the chicago ave. viaduct and crashed into duro decal. I think Ron died that day, his head was split wide open by the objects in mirror (they were closer than they look), Broke the hell outta the car as well, bent the frame.

for some reason, I can not jump start any stories tonight hmmmmmmmm well, they can all wait until later.

A Bisquick, a basque-ette, of tiger is my task.... ette

2005-12-14T05:27:50Z

Sterno's p's lived in an upscale, down home, oldie kinda neighborhood. They had this GREAT house, it was HUGE (well it seemed big to a kid who grew up in a 3 bedroom appartment with 4 other people). They were quite the nice folks as well. Wait, you do realize, that I use a tense that is past, simply because I speak of many years gone by, NOT because I speak of people gone by, be not afraid my little chitterlings.

Poop, not two lines in and I already am off track, where was I.... maybe I should just read what I just wrote... Sterno's P's... right, GREAT house, yup sure was... past tense... Oh yeah, thats where I went wrong...

So anyway, they had this here house in this here place and it was all very nice and cozy and all. It was one of them 3 story houses that was kinda dark on the outside, and had a prarie decorating kinda feel inside (at least thats how my addled brain recalls it all...). Lots of earth tones and deep wood stuff. Say, were you aware that addled is derived from an old word for filthy water? or for you cruciverbalists out there, it can describe a rotten egg.Anyway, back to my memory, lets pretent you see things getting all wavy and stuff like a scooby doo flashback. Right across from where Sterno was living, just down the road a half a piece (maybe almost 3/4 a piece...) was the house of Tiger.

We started out from sterno's house that fine autumn day (tiddley pom)
We walked and we strayed down the road (toddley pom)
until a curious creature came bounding up, nay, bouncing really, upon his backside (tiddley pom)
as if it were a coilled spring......

Oh wait, thats a tigger... forget that last bit

We used to stop by the house of Tiger to visit. At first it was to visit the p's of Tiger, as they were seriously groovy people in their own rights, and they were always groovy to talk to. Tiger's dad was a writer and historian. He was a damned fine writier at that. I have some books he wrote, some of them are about dead people, I guess that makes it historical enough. We sometimes would sit around and talk to these folks, why they would let us into their house I am sure was a mystery to them as well as you. But we always had a great time. Tiger was our junior at the time, but he quickly grew out of that. It was something of a time distortion. Tiger started out our Junior, yet not 6 years later, he was simply our equal. Strange how time can get dilated with age, or is that age gets dilated with time... hmm, I know not, but Tiger was always cool, even if he started out so much younger. In the early years, we did not hang with Tiger too much, you know. He was busy trying to do whatever he did, and Sterno and I were doing what we did. In the heyday of the Chez Sterno, Tiger would play an integral roll in the daily life.

Tiger's house was a monument to that out of the way bookstore you remember. Stacked high with books, none really dusty, although so many, you could not believe they wer not. Tigers Dad would always have some curious books to show us, I guess I have him to thank for my unreasonable love of Wisconsin regional history. The basement was all the same. filled to the top with books. I still have a piece of that basement, that really belongs to Tiger. So let me just add an aside...

Tiger, I have a piece of your old basement, that I discovered in a very old box that I had not opened in years. I would very much like to let you have it as its proper souveneer value belongs to you and yours. If you would like me to send it to you, just email me with an address and I will get them on a cargo plane to wherever you now call home.

... Now back to Today's pointless non-yarn...

Why do I bring all this up? I don't know, its really not a story, its more of a mood that Sterno and I once had. some stories are not really stories after all, sometimes they are just a place or a habit. In this case, it was both, but it was also people. While they did not make us, nor did the place spawn us, the time and the people made us much better than we would have been. In the end, Tiger got what I had always wanted. He got to sell books.

Do I have a funny story to tell about Tiger? Sure do, I gots me plenty! Did I tell you about the time down in champaigne when we drove down to visit Buzz and Mikey? or did I mention the time when the party light was blinking at the Chez and the coffe table was full? or What about that hot girl we both ended up dating? (She really was a grand friend as well, and of her I will write one day, we will call here foose, because we called her foose) or... wait... those are all for later, they first need to be given the lysol treatment to have the names change to protect the innocent.

Well, with that mess of a non-tale, I will leave you to ponder. Howdy Tiger, welcome to my contribution to the downfall of mankind.

ooops

2005-12-07T03:48:10Z

Well, I know not what happened there, maybe I should stop pressing buttons.

oh sister, my Sister

2005-12-06T07:52:23Z

Can it be true? will he diverge even for a moment from his hoary coarse to spew forth other crap that no one of you will understand?

Oh sister, my dear sister, not my sister. In Fred's arms, you now rest, as its late, and its cold. Beyond the hairlines lay the scars of battle, once met and fought. I know your pain, I feel your brain. What next? Who can it be next? But, well you are, for the moment, but a scar. What the future holds will be good things and great deeds. Maybe Big Shoes will say how-do-you-do.

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Back to my regularly scheduled rantings.

Phoenix and his damnedable coffee. Many a night after the show, we would arrive at our beloved pancake eatery ready for whatever may come. We sat, we spoke, we told tall tales of small ships. Costumed at times, consumed by what we could only think was profound idiocy. We talked of school, we talked of our friends, we spoke of many things. Did I say friends? yes, we had some of those. more acquaintances as well. but many many friends. I miss some of them the most of all. But I miss some of them not at all. You were there, and you, and you... And we had to follow the yellow stick row, to get to the wizzers house.

He drew up some papers, that one sterno of which I have spoken in the past. "Mind the Oranges Marlon" or was it the 3rd foundation. How then, did one such as I, who abhore things of this vane become enmeshed in the 3rd foundation? That was the ersatz name of the Science fiction club at one High school. Sterno had drawings, now I have them. Sterno had laws and rules, now I have them, Sterno had an explanation and exclamation, now I have them all. I look at them, in his own hand. Written with a pen from outer space. He led the band for a while, as did I.

Most of the people liked the fantasy style of books, me? I really did not care for them. Dungeons, dragons, elfs, hobbits, dreary stuff for me, but somehow Sterno could read that. He even liked it. I liked harder Sciency crap, or so I thought, who knew that asimov was just as hokey as the hobbit? Well, I guess I liked some from Jones, and some from van vogt. But my real read, was wierd tales, old pulpy stuff. Just like my orange juice. But when did I discover my real passion? and whose fault was it? Why Sterno of course! What a maroon!

It was a hot summer in Chicago, as summer is want to be. Humid, broiling, and hot. It was the summer prior to Sterno's senior year. I was working my buttox off at some joe job selling nails and cutting glass. Recovering from surgery on my leg not 6 months earlier. In the heat of one late July day Sterno hands to me a scrappy book of little consequence. Something by H.P. Lovecraft. I read the notes on the back cover, it sounded like CRAP! It was called the "colour out of space" You know that pretentios off spelling of color that all the kids who wanted to be from england used? (Oh they spoke with accents and all... but we knew they were really from Skokie!) Well, it mentions space, so it must not be too crappy I thought. Sterno said "Read this if you are bored, its just the kind of thing that you would like." what did that long haired freak know about what I liked? 'Oh crap, its one of those space fantasies from england, right? some crap with cats in space ships or some such idiocy?" "Nope" he confidently smiled "its just up your alley"

So I took that book off his hands (I still have the very copy, its a bantam paperback). I went home, threw it on my bed and went to work. I had to unload the cement truck that day, and cut about 50 pieces of pipe (my bosses saved money by not buying pre-cut pipe nipples..... long and VERY boring story...). When I got home, I was too tired to read, so I did the next best thing, I watched the "Andy Griffith show" on our little 9 inch black and white TV. Yes, you young rich kids, they did have those still when I was in high school, it was what all the kids on my side of town watched.

That sunday, my Mom was gone, my brothers were no where to be found, so I curled up on the red and gold chintz couch in the living room of our apartment for a read. I finished reading some crap I had to read for school the prior year. Something about sleds, pickle dishes, and frustrated women who hated the loutish oafs they were married to. Fine read for a high school student to be sure. Why was I reading it during the summer? well I still had the book. and since it saw no use during the school year, it was still fresh and new! (I never seemed to do any home work in high school, maybe thats why I didn't get into a good college... he he he). At any rate, after having my fill of Edith Wharton, I decided to give that book from Sterno a try. It turned out to be "short" stories. I say it that way because the title story wasn't 8,10 or 14 pages, like most short stories, no this long winded new englander thought 141 pages was a dandy length for a short story! Oh well, back to the book. As I lay in our sweltering appartment (we did not have air conditioning) I read this twisted masterpiece. The story went no where, and got there very fast. It droned on and on, and yet, I could not seem to put it down. I read each page, and thought, surely, something must happen. It dragged on and on, like this story... But I was mezmerizes. I could not stop reading. Then it happened, about 2/3 the way through the title story I fell asleep. How long I was asleep for, I am not aware, of what I dreamed I did not then, nor do I now, recall. All i do know is that when my mother came home from wherever she was, I lay on the couch, "White as a sheet, perspiring as if I were on fire, and not breathing" or so she said. All I remember is that I knew, whatever dream I had, it was due to the book. Whatever physical effect it had on me, it was all the fault of the book. That night, I finished that book. I read every book I could find at the library by lovecraft. I read every book I could find by the other authors whom lovecraft write with.

For the past 30+ years I have purchased every book of lovecrafts I could get my hands on (in french, korean, japanese even) I have read everything by Howard, bloch, smith, derleth (yes, even the poetry) and the man himself. It was Sterno who was to blame for my biblio-mania, it is all sterno's fault that my personal library numbers in the thousands of titles, more than half of which are by, about, in the style of, or by friends of, H.P. Lovecraft. Dude, you have made moving a living hell!

But enough about me, what do YOU think of my library?

BTW, go to the orbit service web site, listen to their music, then go to the iTunes music store and buy all of it you can, before they run out.

Gimme Three Steps Mister

2005-11-27T18:55:51Z

Speaking of names, of wait, I am sick to death of the name thing. Three times in a row he mentions names... what a putz. Ok, we will discuss something else. Lets talk about Family. Sterno and me, we were like family in many ways. He knew my parents, hung out with me at their house, I knew his, I hung out at their house (His mom could bake a serious cake! Man, it was tasty and attractive.) I remember when we were just moving into the Chez, my mom and dad were petrified that Sterno might not actually move in and pay his half of the rent (I think they felt that since I could probably not afford it alone, I might end up back on their doorstep some day). One Sunday My Mom decided that I had been alone at the chez long enough, she and Dad got in the station wagon, picket y seriously tired butt up out of bed and drove over to Sterno’s parents place. Being greeted with HUGE smiles and sighs of relief, Sterno’s mom woke Sterno up, and we packed all his crap loaded into the back of the car and moved him into the Chez. But... why a I telling you that story? that's not really the story that's on my mind.

Today I think I would like to share a different story. One of intrigue, one of dancing, one that made my Grandmother happy every time she thought about it! Since I was not quite as taken aback by these particular shenanigans (really, it was a party after all) I will let my guest author tell it. Mom, take it away.

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It was a lovely sunny Saturday at the end of June 1982. There was a man in a tuxedo and a woman in a long white dress with a veil. And also a bridesmaid and a best man. Must have been a wedding.

After a quite proper and dignified reception at the woman’s club in Evanston [the WCTU Hall I think ....ed.], some of the more intimate and party loving friends and relatives resumed the festivities in a basement fun room on Callan Avenue. There was wine, beer, fun, food and music for dancing.

One of the attendees, Sterno, was classically clad in a black long belted outfit, not shod, and carrying an ale stein. He wanted his stout. Also the music appealed to him. He tapped his foot and looked around for a dance partner. After giving some of the young lovelies a twirl, he expanded his scope.

There was the grandmother of the groom, decked out in her polish finery and carrying the mandatory black purse. She was a spirited woman, full of fun. Her raven colored hair and her smile caught Sterno’s eye. Then a polka (or some such fast dance) came on the stereo. He chose Alice for his partner and away they went to dance.

Alice, was want to tell that story over and over. She even entertained some of the nursing home folk when she was ill. Until her last day, she never forgot the good looking, unique stranger she danced with. She would always ask “What was the name of that young man in the strange outfit?”

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I think its appropriate that we dedicate this story to my Grandma Alice. She was quite the dancer.

His name is, WHAT?

2005-11-23T03:49:32Z

Interesting side note, you will hear a lot of names in this journal. Some of them will sound very normal (and yet they are not), and some will sound very strange, and yet, they are proper. Now, since I actually have a theme for this here journalistic style travesty of a memory, I should really start with one of the mainest of all main players, one Sterno. Is that his real name? Sure, why not, what the hell is your real name? Bob, Ralph, Betty, buncha consonents and vowels if ya ask me... Whats wrong with the name Sterno? Just because there is a product named after him, doesn't make it less a name. What, by that logic, if you were a the parent of a rather large male child(A big boy as it were...), you would somehow not be able to be named Robert? Or Bob for short? Of course you could. Geez, product tyins are all the rage in this century anyway, get with it.

So who named him Sterno? How the hell should I know? Ask his Mom, maybe it was her idea. His name was already Sterno by the time anyone I know, knew it, as far as I know. Well, then, why do we care who named the rest? Well, its part of the story dingus. Sterno and I named a few, some were self identifying, some were natural, and some named by their parents. Besides, Sterno's name was that way when I found it, and I am not in the mood to go farting around explaining it.

Take Tiger for instance, sure, the Brady bunch had a dog named tiger, many people name their cats Tiger9 how original is that), but who would name their son Tiger? Maybe that persons namesake. Yes, by the way, thats HIS real name as well. many other people carry their proper name as well.

What about Phoenix? who the hell names their son for a godawful desert oven town? No one I know, Phoenix's parents were quite nice normal folks, and in no way to blame for his particular bend in the road. He was born with two names, like the rest of us, but somewhere along the line he got tired of being a binomial entity and opted for a change. Besides, his birth name uses half the tiles on the scrabble board and adds up to about 150 WITHOUT any double or tripple word scores. So, it's Phoenix. Yes, we gave him shit for that, but thats what you do when your young, you make merciless fun of your friends (but ain't that america, little johnny cougar?). Named after the City? nah, something about a bird and fire (maybe gasoline and a match as well, I was never quite sure, but he has his own damned journal, ask HIM about it...)

But I have yet to digress in any serious way, which means its time for me to run off on a fuzzy tangent of memory. We used to Sit at the iHop and eat (No, thats not some new Apple product that plays pancakes). We used to go there because everywhere else in the universe was closed, it was a little late. It was howard St., and everything else was seriously closed. Now over the long years many people went to the iHop with us, and some times without us, or with some clever combination that failed to include us all, but in the beginning it really was just proto-phoenix, Sterno and me. We drank coffee and ate crap. Phoenix used to make talk with the waitresses, even though, most were not eager to talk to us. He had a terrible habit, you see the iHop had something they called boisenberry syrup. In reality this heinous concoction was corn squeezins, red die #2 FD&C blue #44 and a titration of monkey sweat and jolly rancher candy. He would get his cup of coffee, pour in some milk from the creamer (Hey its the iHop, did you want real cream? geez, you suck!) Then he would add boisenberry syrup until the liquid in his cup went from brown muddy water, to a semi-plastic grey ooze. He drank that crap EVERY DAMNED NIGHT. It made me want to barf. So, one night, I decides to order me some hash browns, and to top them off I gots me some of that there hot fudge. Well, who woulda guessed that potatoes soaked in boling grease and covered in faux chocolate would actually taste that good. Unphazzed, Phoenix kept sipping on his ooze. I think he even tried a bite of the goo on my plate (It went well with that hamburger club he was eating... There, you didn't think I would remember that hamburger club did you!). Sterno, who always had a more seriously twisted streak than he would ever like to admit (Boy you really gotta meet him to appreciate THAT little tidbit!) decided he also, was hungry. 'I would like," he began slowly and deliberately, "A piece of Apple Pie, warmed," after all, Pie cold is just wrong at 2 A.M. "Ala mode please. Oh yes, and can you have the cook crumble up some raw ground beef and sprinkle it on top?" "I.. I... I Don't think the cook would do that sir.". 'Reeeeealy? Why Not?" 'Well," she stammered, "RAW meat, I don't think he would do THAT. Maybe if he cooked it first?" After several seconds of stunned silence, Sterno gathered his thoughts "I do not see why it should not be my choice If I desire, for instance, to eat my meat dripping with blood and raw, well that should be my right! However, IF the cook is unwilling to acceed to my wishes" yeah, he sometimes would say things like acceed "Then I suppose I would have it cooked. But Rare! have him prepare it Rare". Well, he ate that Pie, and pronounced it Mighty tasty (the beef was cooked BTW). Both Phoenix and I tasted that self same plate of awful, and damned if he wasn't right. Apple Pie ala mode does go very well with ground beef!

Well, there is one NASTY glimps into a rather boring night with 'Sterno and Me"™ You know that Phoenix plays an important role in many of these stories as well. You should probably expect to hear quite a bit more about him in the future. Sorry, but My stories, my rules. You get to hear about whatever crap I want to write about. You don't like it? make your own damned friends and tell your own damend stories!

YES, I KNOW I MISS-SPELLED EVERYTHING, WHAT ARE YOU AN ENGLISH TEACHER?

No, 'cause what happened was...

2005-11-22T07:37:52Z

So my Phone rings, and Sterno is calling again! geez, this guy never quits! it must be, well..., once every 3 years whether I need a reminder or not! Geeez..

he he he, OK, it was really great to hear from him, such bad news, it made me sad, but it was still really great to hear his voice.

What the hell is a stiff like me doing in his rolodex? Why in god's name would the prince of "Chicago outré Strange Chic" be calling some craptacularly boring software scientist in some shithole suberb of a smaller town? Why indeed.....

I can't remember the day, exactly, But I remember it like it was yesterday (It was yesterday, wasn't it Sterno?) I was heading to the science fiction double feature up on the 4th floor of beardsley hall with young William R.B. and Wolf, heading into the oblivious room where all the sub-normal science friction geeks hung out. I think, now, that it may have been "Becky's Mom's Room"™ which is where they sat and talked. I sat and talked, they sat and talked, with such a cacaphony, you would not expect to hear a thing. Yet, lilting into the back of my brain, a voice that would haunt my waking days for more than a week started in.... ".. over on 5th, back in Ney York, which is where I moved here from..." And thus began my association with one Sterno P. Sternperson ESQ. DDS. RN. EMT. LMNOP.

Yes, we had so little in common, and even less to talk about. I think thats why we became friends. We talked science fiction, of which he knew much, and I knew less. We talked horror, of which I knew much, and he also. We talked of movies to watch, and of ways of exacting revenge on those who would shun us. Of how to hunt them down, cut out their hearts and livers, boil them up, and eat them..... hmmmmm, ok, that last part, I don't really think we discussed, and I am not totally certain that either of us were old enough at the time to have such massive tools in our life as to deserve such treatment. But anyway, what, are you gonna call me a liar on that one insignificant point? I am getting to the real meat of the story, the crux as you will, the birth of the name Chez Sterno (which of course was still 4 years away, the name that is... Boy, is this going to be a loooooong story!)

Strange as it may seem, we did indeed become friends that day. Eventually, after 2 human sacrifices (Oh yes, there will be stories of human sacrifice before we are done here), countless odd trips to god knows where, for god knows why... (Ok Ron knows why we went on one of them, and another time, I think Janey needed a ride to school or something... but I swear, I can't remember why we might have taken the rest). And destroying one perfectly good 3rd story appartment (yes virginia, you can actually shoot a hole in a plaster wall with a crossbow), we went our separate ways. He to a medical life, me to follow the most boring of career choices (Did I mention I am a computer scientist? ) And now, we arive at this... Sterno Finally gets a web site and an email address in time to be sick. Oh well, it could be worse, it could be raining...

So, I have signed up for this here lame ass live journal thingy in the hopes of adding my overly distorted, intoxicant hazed, brain surgery erasing, memories to the pantheon that is the living history, ongoing saga, and epic tail of "Sterno of the Mounties!".... errr, lemme rephrase that... I just want to add my two cents here so that people can know some of the stories, so that future generations will know why it really would be so bad to have the Chez Sterno just upstairs from your hydroponic Dope factory.

So did I leave anything out by way of introduction? Did I leave you out? are you really that important to the story? Really, that important... OK, well let me list some of the people who really were important to the story, and whom I will fondly remember or mercilessly make fun of....

Sterno and Me, of course, A Girl Named Ecky, A Girl named ebby, and one named meeble (No fun will be made of them, I can assure you, except the explanation of the names might be a little amusing). A Boy named Phoenix (Really, is that his REAL name?) and one called Tiger (Again with the not his real name?) Cindy and her younger brother, and her suitors (ok, those details really are fuzzy) A guy named Dick, one named Dan, one named wolf. Some fringe guy named Mike, who you never met, the girls from the local Catholic school (Death? what kinda name is Death?) and really quite a few more. Did I mention the girl named fred? thats right, she was there also, and you, and you.....

Oh hell, If I have to remember everyone, I will explode. If I left someone out, send me an email and refresh my memory. (Donald, Cindy's brothers name was Donald, wasn't it?)

So Long for now

Mensch