just stories….

My oldest son, Michio, is in his 20’s, finishing grad school and is the dynamic force in his band, "Johnny Bad Habit". One of his tunes is called something like, "My friends come over and puke on my couch". The other tune is called, "Mary Kate and Ashley". Anyway, he’s something of a raconteur, but has earnest appreciation for language and it’s variables. My favorite voice message is, "for the sake of continuity, please leave a message".
Michio has a friend who is something of a provocateur. I also know him as a former graduate student. He goes by Stevil. That’s Steve and evil, in case you just weren’t sure. LA was calling Stevil. It’s probably a good match for a lad from Milwaukee. Stevil had amassed a stake of 5K. He was concerned that kind of money and his persona may lead law enforcement officials to assume it was ill gotten drug revenues. To counter act this miss assumption he placed the money in coffee cans – I presume with a healthy dose of Folgers; and made his way west. I can just imagine Stevil paying for groceries at Safeway with coffee tainted greenbacks.


Ichiro is a glorious baseball player. I have 3 sons and every summer I try to go to a ballgame with each of them. I took my youngest son to see Ichiro. We saw the [sorry ass] Detroit Tigers and Seattle Mariners. We even took the Pepsi Challenge at the ballpark. Baseball is a game played on a beautiful green, transcendent field. When I saw Ichiro, he looked so tiny on the field, but he played with unmatched grace and power. He was in a word, exquisite.
This season “bobblehead” dolls are very hot. They are a better product these days – not as “cheesy” to borrow from the vernacular; as they once were.
Bobbleheads are essentially 2 formed pounds of ceramic likeness, standing about 7.5 inches high, hand painted with oversized heads, that bob, jiggle and nod nonsensically; as they maintain a fixed stare. They are in some ways, a means to re-animate, possess, maybe even mock the celebrity, that escapes us. John Updike said, "Celebrity is a mask that eats into the face." We look at their bobbing reaction to our touch as an ironic affirmation of something that will never be.

Remember reading Goodnight, Moon as a bedtime story to the kids or maybe it was to my niece. Do you remember it? Anyway, there is a goodnight game version that goes like this:
“Goodnight, moon.”
“Goodnight, Baywatch girl.”
“Goodnight, Visa bill. ”
“Goodnight, brownies I shouldn’t have eaten.”
“Goodnight, roommate from hell.”
“Goodnight, damaged boyfriend.”
“Goodnight, whatever…”