Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Category Archives: Friends o’ mine
Pals
Stan, that handsome devil on the right, fixed me up with Karen some 25 years ago. He told Jake today, “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t exist. I guess that makes me your real dad.”
Yup. Stan has always been this way.
Left to right: Jayna, Elissa, and Stan. Tonight was a hoot.
(When I’m back home tomorrow, I’ll be able to use my Paintshop Pro and give y’all more photos with better quality. Right now, I’m using some freeware which I’m not altogether comfortable with. Hence the crappy quality.)
D.
Wish me luck
Interview #1 is tomorrow (Wednesday). Today, we looked at real estate & saw some amazing homes. Then we caught up with our friend Stan and his new baby girl, Jayna, and ate at a great Chinese restaurant (Shanghai Garden).
Over dinner, Stan said, “You have nothing to worry about. The most difficult question they’re going to ask you tomorrow is, ‘What happened to your hair? What is that, chemo or something?'”
I love my friends 🙂
D.
Pals
It’s a rare thing, friendship, and so very difficult, finding like-minded people with whom we can hang out. In college, Karen and I knew a lot of people who were “our kind of people” (an elitist phrase, perhaps, but that’s how we think about it). Even by the time I got into med school, it had become harder to make friends. They were different, these medical students. Residency was worse, and private practice? Forget it. Most of the docs I know are Republicans.
That’s why it was such an unexpected pleasure to meet Kenney and his wife, Val, four or five years ago. We met them through our friends Stan and Elissa, who used to live in the condo below Kenney and Val. Stan and Elissa have moved on, but Kenney and Val have roots in the area.
I remember thinking, This is great. We make it down here [the Bay Area] at least once a year; now we’ll have some friends to visit. And, indeed, we did visit Val and Kenney the following year; but as y’all know, Karen broke her hip two years ago, and that threw a wrench into our usual travel habits. We haven’t seen them in ages.
Here we are (minus me. Until we figure out the timer, someone has to clicky clicky) in Kenney’s studio.
I had very particular ideas about the composition of this photo: I wanted to capture the assy assness of the painting behind Jake. It’s a lovely ass, don’t you think? Here’s a better view. I suggested to Kenney that he do more S&M-themed work. Maybe I should commission it?
Kenney has an interesting attitude toward modern art, which we discovered when we told him about our trip to MOMA today. I’d say more, but I don’t want to get him into trouble with his peers. Anyway, MOMA wasn’t terrible. We liked the Olafur Eliasson exhibit (the yellow room was our favorite) but the rest of that place was, well, meh. “How did they do that one?” Jake would ask. I’d say, “They smeared blue paint on a dog’s ass. Dogs don’t like paint on their asses, so he wiped it off on the canvas. Best I can tell, they did it to the poor dog three times.” “Okay,” Jake says, “then how did they do this one?” “They smeared gray paint on a cat’s ass. Cats don’t like paint on their asses, so . . .” and so forth.
Kenney tried to explain why there was a urinal prominently featured in the middle of the permanent exhibit, but all this art stuff goes over my head.
Here’s a cool photo from the ground floor of MOMA. After the ground floor, the docents wouldn’t let me take any pictures. How annoying!
What’s up for tomorrow: breakfast — dim sum if we can find it — then the Exploratorium, then Corn Dog’s place for dinner. More pals.
D.
Two down, five to go, and more
I received my first two nays from agents today. Two down, five to go.
***
Finally got around to figuring out who sings that wonderfully haunting tune in V for Vendetta . . . the song playing on V’s juke box when Evie comes in out of the rain.
The artist is Cat Power. The song is “I Found a Reason,” and oh, what a voice. I bought two CDs online, and I promise I’ll review them here.
***
Shaina, you come around to some old guy’s blog to tempt him with your boobs, and that makes the old guy the perv?
Fine. I’m a perv. And you got a great rack.
D.
Birthday Cake for Kate
It’s Kate‘s birthday today (and mine). Y’all know I want pie for my birthday. But Kate?
She wants cake.
Of an age
A few evenings ago, I called an old friend* whom I have not spoken to since 9th grade. I changed high schools in 10th grade, and quickly drifted away from my old gang.
Right from the start, we were both struck by the fact we hadn’t spoken to one another since before puberty. In other words, we remembered one another’s pre-pubertal voices, so our adult voices sounded recognizable but eerily different.
The other remarkable thing: both of us have gone through several major upheavals, and yet we’re both the same people we were at age 14. I guess that shouldn’t surprise me. As I think you all know by now, I’ve kept in touch with gf v1.0, and she’s very much the same person I first met at 15.
I remember when I met up with her again after a long absence (it took me a few years to get over the breakup). We sat together at her sister’s wedding, me by myself, she with her husband, a friend of mine from high school. Some days later, her sister told me, “They were a little worried you’d be different. Arrogant, maybe, because of med school and all of that. But they said you were the same old Doug.”
But she has changed, of course, and so have I, and so has my pal from 9th grade; as with our voices, we’re recognizable, but eerily different. We take on new abilities, new likes and dislikes, and we shed some of our old needs and tendencies. It’s like changing clothes, I suppose. The flesh remains the same, while the outer trappings come and go.
My friend wondered if this was a middle-aged thing, this desire to get back in touch with our old mates. We’re of an age now when death doesn’t seem all that improbable. We can’t take each other for granted anymore — not that we ever could, but it becomes more undeniable with each passing year.
I wonder if there is something almost literary about it. Is it the desire to leave no loose ends behind, leave nothing unsaid? Is it a repugnance for red herrings, or merely the desire to make sense out of something (a life) not obliged to make sense?
This year is the 50th anniversary of Hugh Everett’s “many worlds” interpretation of quantum mechanics — an idea with which most SF readers have more than passing familiarity. As I get older, Everett’s ideas give me more and more satisfaction, the same sort of comfort I imagine many folks get from religion. I get older, my options flicker off like the evening lights of a metropolitan skyline, but there are worlds out there where I have explored other avenues, taken different paths. I may not be able to go back and do things differently, but I don’t have to; some of me are already living those lives. I wonder how I’m doing.
D.
*This dude, who claims he’s not ready for high traffic yet — so go visit him and it’ll really piss him off!
O’Brien, me, and an anonymous hoo-ha
It all began innocently* enough.
Erin O’Brien wrote:
What the eff is this?
Check it out, then follow me below the fold.
What, no rectum?
Erin just had to get me back for the Aneros prostate stimulator (pictured), so she sent me to the Erotech website.
Erin, I’m not going to ask how you found out about the LoveLumpTM; but I picture you up way past your bedtime, cursing the Goat for falling asleep while you were working on your daily blog post, figuring you’d find some porn satisfaction on the Web, and racking your brains for the most twisted search terms possible.
“Hmm,” Erin sez. “How about appendage, organ, reactive, and warm? Ah, here we go!”
Good thing this is Friday, because the photo below the fold is sooo not work safe. You’ve been warned.
Pimp Kate’s ride!
Kate Rothwell, an author Deserving of Far More Recognition But Too Unlucky to Get It©, is having a contest. She’ll send you a free book, and all you have to do is post your review. It doesn’t even have to be a positive review. You could slam it, say it’s not fit for kindling, say that all extant copies should be used to paper the walls of the Museum of Reprehensible Writing, and Kate will still honor the contest. Right, Kate?
Oh, as for the prize: if you post a review, she’ll put your name into a drawing for a $30 dollar gift certificate to the book vendor of your choice; and if you shout out her contest, she’ll put your name into a second drawing for a $30 gift certificate. How easy is that?
For the record, I love Kate’s writing, whether it’s her Summer Devon sex shtick (you know, the guy from the future where all men look like Michelangelo’s David only with a BIG penis) or Kate being Kate (here’s my review of Somebody Wonderful). I thought for sure I had reviewed Somebody to Love, too, but dammit, I can’t find it now. Well, I liked that one too!
So head on over to Kate’s place, read about the contest, and do your thing. Pimp her ride, whatever that means. I am such a square.
And I haven’t forgotten about my contest winners, either. Just lazy — still can’t think of a good prize.
D.
PS: what’s up with Somebody Wonderful not being available? That’s just not right.
The Cap’n Has Landed
The Cap’n ‘n her lovely spouse are headin’ for Washington, D.C. this week to testify before Congress. Per the Cap’n:
Hearing on “Strengthening the Middle Class: Ensuring Equal Pay for Women,” scheduled at 9:30 a.m. in room 2175 Rayburn House Office Building. Witnesses to be announced.
* Cap’n Dyke’s lovely spouse will be th’main speaker for th’WalMart Gender Discrimination Class Action Lawsuit at this hearin’. Blue Gal gives me great press, but Th’ Cap’n will only appear if for some reason Dee can’t appear. Here’s her declaration at Walmart Class, th’lawsuit’s website.
And if you would like to learn more about the class action lawsuit, here’s the website, and here’s their intro:
– Attention –
present and former female employees of Wal-Mart or Sam’s Club:
- Have you been denied career opportunities in management?
- Have you been denied equal pay for equal work?
- Have you been getting the run-around about promotions or raises?
- Have you hit the glass ceiling?
If you worked for Wal-Mart at any time since December 26, 1998, you may have legal claims in a class action sex discrimination lawsuit against Wal-Mart. Learn more!
Wal-Mart, be warned: The Mound of Blue Dykes has ye in her sights.
Ye may begin shakin’ with fear.
Hat tip to Blue Gal, who will surely have more details. And be sure to stop by the Cap’n’s place to give her some love.
D.