Bandolier

Do people have waterbeds anymore? A cursory Google search indicates that lots of people still do have waterbeds.

I haven't even thought about waterbeds in over a decade. Have there been any new developments in waterbed technology? Do they have steam-powered waterbeds yet?

All these questions.

Satchmo & You

A guy at work: "Hey, Paul, would you marry a porn star?"

Pause.

"Yes."

"You would? You'd marry a porn star?"

"I hate to think that I'd discriminate against a girl just because of her job."

Pause.

"Come on. Really."

"We're assuming a porn star would want to marry me?"

"Yes."

Pause.

"Sure, I'd marry a porn star, if we were 'in love.'" (Finger-quotes)

"Really? See, I don't think I could. You wouldn't have a hard time dealing with the fact that she's a porn star?"

"I didn't say it wouldn't be a little...inconvenient."

The Most Famous Pincushion

I had to perform jury duty last week, which was an interesting enough way to spend a day off work. Actually, it would have been pretty boring if I didn't have my iPod and a fresh LA Weekly. It was mostly just sitting around, but like I said, it was fine and actually kind of relaxing.

The most annoying thing about it by far was the attitude surrounding the whole thing, like this, "Ha, ha, we've got you now," attitude, as if all of us cowardly citizens have been trying our darndest to weasel our way out of Jury Duty. There was a smug guy talking to us over the P.A., who kept trying to enhance his power trip by saying things like, "People used to try all kinds of things to get out of Jury Duty, but we've changed our procedures to eliminate most of the excuses." He also kept saying patronizing, mocking, borderline bullying things like, "See now? This isn't so bad."

The reality is that the only real reason people wouldn't want to perform Jury Duty is if it would harm them financially. If your job pays you to perform Jury Duty, you don't mind doing it. Why would you?

I decided that the best way to get at the guy was to act deliriously happy. "I've got to get myself one of these chairs! This is by far the most comfortable chair ever!" "What is the temperature in here, anyway? This climate is perfect!" "Ooh! Oprah's on! You go, girlfriend!"

Semaphoring at the Expense of Others

This weekend, I attended the Scottish Highland Festival at the Queen Mary in Long Beach, and nothing particularly ridiculous or annoying happened.

I had a really good time, and I don't mind telling you I'm a bit disappointed.

This is the Big One, Elizabeth

The hummingbird in our backyard has chicks now. The eggs hatched a couple of days ago.

We figured the chicks hatched when we saw the mother hummingbird doing a new thing that looked like she was feeding baby birds.

The mother leaves the nest periodically, very briefly, to get food. During one of those trips, we were forunate enough to snap a picture of the chicks.

They look really strange, I know, but I assure you, they're OK. They were fully moving around and doing the baby-bird-open-mouth thing.

Notice the beak looks like a regular bird's beak, and not like the long, narrow beak the mother has. Apparently, that comes later.

I'll keep you posted.

Some Certain Irresolute

I have a late class tonight after I leave my day job.

The campus is really big, and the walk from the car to the classroom takes between ten and fifteen minutes each way, but I have a dilemma. I forgot to bring a jacket with me today, and it's a bit on the chilly side (for Southern California).

I'm actually considering going by a store on the way to school and buying a jacket. This is causing conflicting feelings deep within.

I don't need a jacket; I've got plenty of jackets at home! I've never done this before! It seems wrong! Some people don't even have one jacket!

However, if I don't buy a jacket, I'll be cold. I could conceivably become ill as a result of not wearing a jacket. It could totally happen.

OK, I think what I'll do is buy a jacket, but I'll buy one that I don't like very much.

How's that? Happy?

The How and Why Wonder Book of Trees

A lot of my family members and cherished friends are having babies lately, which is obviously really great. I'm happy for everyone, I enjoy seeing the kids, and it's all really touching.

The only real drawback to all this is the fact that I've felt compelled to cut back on the amount of abortion jokes I make.

I'm wondering when it's safe to start up again. I'm thinking if the kid's a newborn, no way are abortion jokes cool. Toddler? Maybe.

Screwing in America

Sunday I went to a Kings game, which is hockey, for those of you who don't know or care. Many of you are probably aware that I don't like watching "sports," as such, but it was interesting and surreal, and if you 're offered "luxury" box tickets for free, like I was, I recommend that you accept them.

I noticed a few things about hockey that I hadn't thought of before.

One thing is that the whole hockey thing seems so foreign and archaic and "Gay 90s," with the ice and the skates and the sticks and the weird outfits with the padding in odd places. I kept half-expecting big handlebar moustaches to sproing out when the players' helmets came off.

Also, there was plenty of fighting at the game, but the stuff that prompted the fighting didn't seem any different than all the stuff that was going on the whole time. Actually, I wasn't ever able to tell what set off any of the fights, it just seemed to me that there was sudden aggression and attacking. I guess in that respect, it's like real life.

Another thing I noticed (and this is certainly not a shortcoming of hockey, in fact, it's the case with most sports, and it more or less highlights why I can't really get into watching sports) is that I really didn't know who to root for. Of course, I know we're supposed to, "Root, root, root for the home team," but I really couldn't get into it. When I'm playing some kind of game against an opponent, I know that I want myself to win. That's clear to me. However, since I didn't know any of the people on the ice (I don't even think any of them are from Los Angeles), I found myself incapable of feeling any more loyalty for one team over the other, which prompted some totally unexpected feelings of guilt and alienation that I had in no way bargained for.

Also, it seems so unsporting the way every goal by the Kings is followed by thunderous cheers, sirens, explosion sounds, flashing lights, a couple of bars of Randy Newman's "I Love LA," then, a couple of bars of Gary Glitter's "Rock and Roll," where the crowd screams along, "Hey," but every goal by the opposing team is accompanied by nothing except a few scattered boos. Yes, I know it's like that whenever there's a home team and a visiting team, but it doesn't sit well with someone who likes to root for the underdog, like I tend to.

I'll say this: I've never seen a hockey game I didn't like, especially not a free one in luxury box seats with free beer.

In Like a Lion, Out Like a Lion, Out Like a Lamb

With all the hilarity around here, it's easy to forget that The Gold State is primarily a "music" thing, but it pretty much is, and the time is ripe to make an announcement about some recent personnel changes around here.

Carlos, who has played bass guitar in The Gold State all season, has taken some well-deserved time off to devote more attention to his various other musical projects, including the amazingly good Japanties (warning: dirty picture), which is one of my very favorite things ever. We are fully, 100% lifelong friends and everything is great between Carlos and me, although people who like to gossip, make shit up, and wage smear campaigns, start your engines.

So that kind of sucks that Carlos isn't playing with us anymore, and we'd be really sad, except for the fact that--—and this all happened so smoothly--—we've got a really cool new guy to play bass guitar already, and his name is David.

David's in another fabulous band called Los Charlies that happens to be another one of my favorite things ever. He's been mistaken for Jonathan Richman's kid brother more than once (by people who really ought to know better), and he's obsessed with Badfinger (not the band).

David also plays the bass really well.

You'll like David. I just know it.

Hey, Misogyny!

Coming soon: Content.

Reservoirs of No Good Reason

I'm not color-blind (and you're probably not, either) but whenever I've heard that someone was color-blind, I've never felt sorry for the person. I've always experienced a slight twinge of jealousy.

Of course, there's also the whole question of how a person even knows if he or she is color-blind. How do they know what red is supposed to look like if they can't see red? How do I know I'm not color-blind? How would I know? All these questions.

Here's my idea: Pills that cause temporary color-blindness. Wouldn't that be awesome?

Go. Go and invent.

And Now, the Winners of The Calvin Coolidge Day Parade Research Laboratories

A Hummingbird built a nest in our backyard last week. She laid one egg, then she laid another one a couple of days later. The eggs are the size of jellybeans.

We're keeping our distance as much as possible, considering she built the nest about two feet from our door. I'll keep you posted.

Also, if you click on those pictures, you probably won't be sorry.

Cigarette Magazines

I've decided that I'm going to get a personalized license plate: "DRUNK."

If that one's taken, maybe, "DRUNK1" or, "2DRUNK4U."

Water Cooler Henhouse

The other day on my lunch break, to kill some time I went to Sears.

Sears!

I was immediately struck by how un-Postmodern the whole thing was.

I hadn't been to Sears since my childhood, and I'm pleased to report that it hasn't changed a bit. I was instantly transported back to the wood-paneled-and-taupe, 1982 Sears of my youth. They were actually playing muzak too, and I mean real-live, bland instrumental muzak. I haven't heard that in years, and, of course, I didn't even think it existed anymore.

You know how, a few years back, the Target stores got kind of hip and self-effacing? Like, "Yeah, we're cheap, but we've got a few cool things in here, too! We're down with the whole minimalist, arty, mock-vintage-y thing, but we know you're here for the bargains! (Winkitty-wink!)"

Sears is not like that at all. Sears is in denial. Who is Sears kidding?

Poor Sears.