Here we come..walking down the street...

Please tell me that title rings a bell.
How about after watching this?

Those are the Monkees. You know the Monkees, right?
If not, the story of the Monkees is a good one.
One that I'm not going to go into.
Google it.
That's not what this one's about.

This one is about taking a casual walk through my neighborhood and noticing the things that most people overlook because they are too busy doing things like, oh, I don't know, going to work when it's still dark out, coming home in the dark, getting to dance classes, and basketball practices, and soccer games, arranging pick ups and drop offs, and squeezing in dr. appointments, and forgetting friends birthdays, and not visiting family like you should, and cooking, cleaning, decorating, shopping, writing blogs....

I think you get the picture. If not, I'm sorry for you. That was not subtle. You should probably stop reading now, because it's about to go south from here.

Really far south.

So this was what I saw when I actually took some time to take in the sights and sounds of my hood.

Sort of.

There's a couple of new restaurants (can I tell you that I ALWAYS spell restaurants wrong. I'm a decent speller, easily a finalist in a spelling bee, but that word would be my demise) in my neighborhood. You should check them out.

There's the new chinese place (see how I skipped using the word resteraunt....I'm no dummy)



...and I love a nice buffet as much as the next guy..

This place sounds nice...


...and I've always loved the diversity of where I live...


I actually stopped in and tried this place...


The balls, were indeed, very chewy.

It was nice to see people getting their houses ready for the holiday.


I would have helped him but I was to busy taking his picture. Hope he made out ok.

I like the houses that just go simple and classy. Like this.


Actually, that's my house. I'm very proud of it.Unfortunately I had to blow all of those inflatables up the old fashioned way...lung power. I expect to be light headed until next year.

Well, at least someone finally found Tom...


Funny, these streets don't show up on my GPS...




Fortunately I was on the other side of the street


By now I figured it was time to head home.
Much to my surprise I saw my next door neighbor had a new sign on their front yard.


Must be talking about the guy across the street. I feel the same way.

As you can see , it's well worth the time to go out and explore your local hood.

You never know what you'll see.

...so much for getting the month off to a good start.

Much love.
Peace out.

Thumpety thump thump

Another Christmas song post?

Fa la la la la la la la la.
So there.





What is it with Christmas song lyrics?
They are sung by all, but you know what?

They don't make sense.

"Don we now our gay apparel"?
Ok. I guess so...don't know if I actually own any gay apparel, but, 'tis the season so what the hell.



But that's not as bad as the next line from that song..."troll the ancient yuletide carol"

Nope.
Ain't buying it.
Doesn't make sense.
WTF does trolling have to do carols, let alone ancient yuletide ones?

...but I am down with the being jolly. I'm all for jolly. Jolly is under utilized. Maybe jolly isn't socially accepted. I don't know. When was the last time you actually saw someone being jolly anyway?

Ladies and gentleman...Jolly John. You will not know Jolly John if you're not from Maine...or under the age of 25. Neither of those statements apply to Pete.

Does anyone know any good sleighing songs?
I don't.
Perhaps if I was dashing through the snow one might come to me.
Doubt it.

What are jingle bells anyway. Don't all bells jingle? Other than at Christmas does anyone even say jingle?
Let me answer that for you.
No.



That's a funny cat photo, I hear people love funny pictures of animals.
Me? Not so much.

pa rum pa pum pum
Really? Is that supposed to sound like a drum because it doesn't.

Well, maybe it does if your drum is made out of clay.





..and your drumsticks. And yourself.

That song sucks so much that those are the only words I know in the whole song.
What does that tell you?
Doesn't help that it's repeated every other line of the song.
You are forced to sing that line eight hundred and twenty seven times..if you go with the long version.
Tedious.

How come the bumble or Yukon Cornelius don't get mentioned in the Rudolph song?
They were key players.
Hermie on the other hand, deserved to be left out.
Seriously, would you want him for your dentist?
Didn't think so.

This is from the lost episode "Hermie decapitates his first patient".
To this day I don't know why that one wasn't so popular.

Hey, let's go on a sleigh ride!
All of our friends will call yoo hoo.
Well, I guess in a wintry fairy land they might.


Enough already.

I've got to go have a cup of cheer.

Festivus for the rest of us.

tra la la la la la la la

Phil McCracken

Advance warning...this one's going to be juvenile, off color, and possibly offensive. If those three things don't appeal to you I suggest you stop reading this now and go back to complaining about the recent election, or the weather, or time change...or any other event that has recently given you something to bitch about.

How's that for an opening?

The inspiration for this one is from a recent gathering I was at...picture about 10 men, all approaching or in their forties, standing in a driveway giggling like a bunch of ten year olds because one of us mentioned the words splooge and smegma in the same sentence. Let me repeat that. Splooge. Smegma. C'mon, that's good stuff. That's old school. That's fifth grade humor at it's best. So Rich, Dave, Chris, Joe, Kevin, and the rest of you juveniles...this one's for you.



So it got me to thinking about other words or phrases that have the same effect.

Let's get these out of the way right now...

...and don't ever hold a table under the name Sal Monella.

There are some words that are usually pretty innocuous, but at the right time are spot on inappropriate

Beaver

I don't think I need to elaborate on that one..right?

Uranus.

Uranus is bigger than earth.

Seamen.

Everyone's heard the one about the shipwrecked sailors that eventually had to eat their own seamen. Haven't you?

Pianist.

The boy hugged his pianist when he showed him how to play on his organ.

Everyone offended yet? No? OK, I'll keep going then.

Coccyx.

I hurt my coccyx when I fell on the ice.

Breast stroke.
My favorite form of exercise is the breast stroke.


Poop deck.
That one brings me back to 1975, Thornton Heights elementary school. That one got you too, didn't it?


Dictator.
Say it with me.
Dictator.

Oh, and don't confuse this one with cunctator...that one made me smile just typing it.
Cunctator (smiling again) is someone who procrastinates.
Pompatus of Pete is not a cunctator, but he does like to take his time.

Wenis.


This one's a little obscure.
The wenis is that flap of skin under your elbow.
"If you touched my wenis would that be against the penal code?"
Do me a favor and use that one today. Tell someone that your wenis is dry, or something to that affect. Have some fun with it.


Cummerbund
He didn't dance all night because his cummerbund was too tight.



Enough.
What do you say we end this one with a little dignity?



Why bother? At least let's end this showing some intellect..



There...that's better.

Peace out.

Overfed longhaired leaping gnome

Who's ready for another list?
No one? Really, no one?
Tough titties. I am.

So, in usual fashion, this list is without a doubt the definitive list on this subject. While other lists may exist on this subject, they are all wrong and this one is right. Without a doubt. Indubitably.

Ready?

Top hits for each year in the 1970's.



Why the 70's you may ask (or may not)...70's are my go to era for music....60's music was great, but I got that through osmosis (I was too young to appreciate it when it was current), 80's music mostly sucked (although I won't rule out a future list on either of these eras), 90's don't count, and post 2000 is still too new to me.

I'll try to keep this brief, (some as little as one sentence...but one incredible, well chosen, thought provoking sentence)I know you've all got more important stuff to do than invest in the five minutes it takes to read this drivel. I'll include a few video clips where I see fit...possibly on all of them

Here we go....

1970
Spill the Wine - War
That's were the title of this blog is pulled from. Oh, and that was my nickname in high school. A trippier song you will never find. At least watch this one until he gets to the gnome line..then I dare you not to finish it.

1971

Jealous Guy - John Lennon.

Yes, Jealous Guy...not Imagine. Imagine is great and all, but it's been done to death. It was my class song for crissakes. I'll put "I was dreaming of the past, and my heart was beating fast" up against "Imagine there's no heaven, it's easy if you try" any day. Plus, you can never dismiss a song with whistling in it. Whistling kicks ass. Just like this song.

1972

Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard - Paul Simon.

Another whistling song. What can I say? ...and I like the image of the Mama Pajama rolling out of bed.

Oh, and the little black girl in this video. No rhythm. God love her, but none. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Zippo.

1973

Rosalita - Bruce Springsteen.

Bruuuuuce !

Worth the 9:44 to listen to this ...even if you don't watch it. Trust me on this one. Leave it on, turn it up and go wash the dishes or something.

1974

Free Man in Paris - Joni Mitchell

Have you ever felt unfettered and alive. Have you ever even used the word unfettered. Really? You're lying if you said you had.  Use it tomorrow. I dare you.



1975

Road Runner - Modern Lovers

Screw disco...

"I say road runner once, road runner twice.

I'm in love with rock n roll and I'll be out all night"

and I love the repetitious "radio on!  radio on!

Don't you?

1976

The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald - Gordon Lightfoot

This song was epic to me. Especially when listening to it on a Miami Dolphins replica helmet AM radio

 Can't skip this one...

I saw Gordo closer than this with a dear friend back in the early 80's. Love to reminisce

1977 (Almost done.....)

Psycho Killer - Talking Heads

I also "hate people when they're not polite"...

The quirkiest grooviest white band. Ever.

1978

Surrender - Cheap Trick

Yup.

Don't deny it.

"Mommy's alright, Daddy's alright. They just seem a little weird"



1979

Train in Vain - The Clash

Brilliant simplicity.

Now that is tough. Try it sometime.

There you go.

Top songs from each year in the 70's.

Don't deny it, you know it's true.

Hope you took a minute or two to appreciate a few of these...maybe something here will ignite a desire to seek out more from one of these bands. Maybe not. Who knows?

...and see how it was done without one mention of the Bee Gees or Abba (that is, until now).

So it goes.

Take two oxy and call me in the morning

Pete's been sick.
Well, not really sick.
Pete's not been well.
Really really unwell.


Not sure the level of detail I want to (or, truth be told, you'd want me to) go in to.
Long story short, I've got a blood clot in my leg that was dangerously close to getting into a place that you don't want to be "clotted". Clots move and can end up in places like lungs, hearts, and brains.

....and to think I used to believe thrombosis was in the woodwind family.

I don't do sick well...even writing about this makes me feel a little skeezy.

I wrote about being sick quite some time ago. Here it is...
http://pompatusofpete.blogspot.com/2011/11/starve-cold-feed-feveror-is-it-other.html

That time it was a cold. This time's a little worse.

 But, I'm getting better....or so I'm told. No need for calls from my millions (errr, dozens) of readers asking how I am. I'll be fine. Eventually.

Like I said, without getting into the gory details I'll just do an overview of my past two weeks

• five doctors (I'm talking family doctor here) visits. This is not the final number by the way...I'll have to be going in every few days to have blood work done for the indefinite future. Do you think Pin Cushion Pete sounds better than Pompatus of Pete?
• four different antibiotics to cure the incorrect initial diagnosis (at least only one of them was intravenously - although I did get that one twice)
• Three days... so far ...that I've needed to give myself injections into my stomach (twice a day mind you). This is for a blood thinner that will break up the clot (note that's a four letter word). This has to be done somewhere between the next ten days and the rest of my life. They're not sure yet. Oh, and when I say "I've" had to give myself, when I say I, I mean my wife. I can't bring myself to do it. I would have been a horrible junkie. Next time you see us together, know that she is by far a stronger person than I. Pete, unfortunatley, is a bit of a sissy when it comes to needles.
• two seperate ultrasounds. I think they did two so they could miss on the first one what they eventually found on the second one. Doh.
• two separate overnight night stays in the hospital. (and a sum of about six hours waiting in the emergency room with some of Portland's finest...ever been to the emergency room on a Friday night? Good times.). The first time the doctor released me because the incorrect diagnosis followed up by the incorrect medication was "looking better". Whoops.

This has been over the past two weeks...throw in missing work, soccer games, basketball practices, two dance open houses (those last three pertain to my daughter, work unfortunately, is mine) and constant pain and these last two weeks have been kind of crummy.

Oh, and because of the blood thinner I'm on, I'm being hyper vigilant in regard to making sure I don't cut myself.
Shaving is a bit precarious right now and because of it I look somewhere between...

this (in my mind)


and this (to everyone else)


The few times I've touched a razor, this is what immediately comes to mind..

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x7tnc9_the-french-chef_fun

Why are you all spinning?
(If you didn't watch the video then that last line makes absolutely no sense...so why don't you just watch the video now, ok?)

...I think I'm going to sleep now. Bon Appetit

I'm giving you a longing look...

Give this a minute...enjoy.

Why do I do it?

Why do I write?

That's a damn good question..and I'm not so sure I know the answer.

Am I any good? Sometimes.

Do I have anything relevant to say? Occasionally.

Does it make me any money? Of course not.

Do I enjoy it? Absolutely.

..and I hope you enjoy it too.

In my mind, thousands of people are reading what I post (actually they have, but over the course of 13 months). Everywhere I go people point and say, "There here is. That's Pompatus of Pete". Everyone appreciates how clever these blogs are...how well written they are...how they they learn something whenever they read one. They all say, "You know, you're really good. You should do that professionally".

Not so much. Like I said, in my mind.

This is how it really goes.

I get a fragment of an idea and I let it roll. (This one came to me while mowing the lawn). I spend an hour or so typing it up, sort of freestyle. I go back and make a few edits (although I never catch them all). I insert a picture or two where it makes sense. Even where it doesn't make sense. Then I post it.

Then I wait. I wait for the masses to trip over each other to read what I just wrote. I perpetually check the stats to see how many hits I've had. I'm often surprised. Sometimes I'm not. Then I let it be.

You know something? The paragraph prior to the previous one isn't always true. Sometimes I have no idea what I'm going to write. I just sit and write whatever pops into my mind. It sometimes works. I usually start off those posts by saying something like "this one's random" or "not sure where this one's going to go" or "it was the best of times it was the worst of times". Well, not the last one so much, but I think you get it.

Here's an example of a random blog...this was written the morning of Thanksgiving last year, and by morning I mean middle of the night morning...time of the day when you should still be sleeping morning...time of the day when the only people that are up would be the guy that has to make the donuts... even the frat boys and prostitutes are in bed at this time of morning.

Here's the example

http://pompatusofpete.blogspot.com/2011/11/rise-and-shine-sleepyhead.html

Which leads to to my style. Not really sure on this one either. Maybe conversational? It is on my end any way. As I type I always I picture myself having a conversation with the reader. I do. Keeps it kind of informal that way, don't you think? (See...we're having a conversation)

Maybe a better description is a word I made up to describe it...any by God if this word catches on I want some credit, because it's gold.

Ready for it?

Here it is.

Non faction.

Let that one sink in. Ruminate on it for a minute. Swirl it around your mouth before swallowing it.

Non faction.

Not quite fact...not quite fiction...a mixed up muddled up shook up world of run on sentences, using who and whom wrong, mixing up then and than, and not quite believing if what you're reading is true or not. It's some where in between real and make believe ala Mr. Rodgers Neighborhood of Make Believe.

That Lady Elaine Fairchild was the creepiest puppet ever created by the way.

...never claimed to be perfect.

I'd like to think there are actually some folks out there that enjoy reading what I write.

I'd like to think there are some people that look forward to these things.

I know I do.

Hope you do too.

Ok. Enough of this nonsense.

zip a dee doo dah





"Just don't give him anything good to hit"....

"Just don't give him anything good to hit". I still remember those words 38 years after they were said to me.

But I'll get to that in a minute. If I do this right it will all make sense.



Finished up a full weekend of a soccer tournament with my youngest. She plays on a U12 team...means the girls are all under 12. My girl is 10. That's way under 12. It's 83 percent of 12.
She's not the best player on the team. She never will be. She doesn't play the most minutes. She never will. She's not a high scorer...or kicks the ball the hardest...or is the fastest..or most aggressive.

I'm ok with that.

She tries hard. She listens to the coach. She cheers on her teammates. She is an important part of the team. She feels like she's part of the group.

I'm ok with that too.

This is a team loaded with successful girls. I see future class presidents on this team. I see remarkable young ladies whose futures are as bright as they want them to be. I think these girls can all be anything they aspire to. This is a good group of kids.

My daughter included...maybe even my daughter especially.

So this weekend her team played their hearts out. They won every game. (As a matter of fact they haven't lost a game all season) 36 hours after they played the first game of the weekend they played in the championship.

It was a 2-2 tie.

They played one five minute overtime, no change...then another, still tied.

It finally came down to a penalty shoot out.

The other team scored more then we did.

The girls were upset. Some cried, most mustered smiles while accepting their second place trophies. They were all dissapointed.

It was a quiet ride home. She took a shower, we made dinner.

In the shower I could hear her singing. I knew the healing had begun.

After dinner she wanted to snuggle with me in the living room.

Now she and Mom are going through old photos and laughing about the memories those pictures hold (although if I hear her say, "Daddy you were skinny" one more time, I might have to put an end to their trip down memory lane).

So, that same memory lane brings me back to the title of this blog. It was the story I told my daughter on the ride home while she was still down. It wasn't meant to make her feel better, it was just meant to let her know that I knew how she was feeling.

Here goes...
1974..ten years old.
First year of Little League.
League Championship game.
All tied up.
Extra innings.
Somehow I'm pitching, although I was a first baseman, I sometimes pitched.
One of the best players in the league, Steve Graves, comes up to bat.
He is 12, I'm 83 percent of his age...and maybe 65 pecent of his talent.
My coach, who I knew at the time as Uncle Norman, although he wasn't actually my uncle, calls time out and comes out to the mound.
He walks up to me, put's his hand on my shoulder and says, "Don't give him anything good to hit".
I nod.
Uncle Norman walks off the field.
I step on the mound.
Steve Graves steps into the batter's box. (not that it matters but he was a lefty)
In my mind I'm thinking, "don't give him anything good to hit...don't give him anything good to hit".
I wind up.
I let it fly.
Steve Graves takes a mighty cut.
Homerun.
We lose the championship.

I gave him something good to hit.

I did because I was only ten years old.

The reason I told my daughter this story was to show her that even though I still remember that like it was yesterday, the pain didn't last. It was important to me to try to win, but I didn't, and life went on. It was only a game. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't important.

I'm not diminishing the importance sports can be in your life. But for nearly 100% of us they need to be viewed as a trip down a side street on the road of life. I've had some of the best experiences of my life on these side streets, I've had some less than great experiences as well. My life wouldn't be what it is if I didn't go down those roads.

Do well in school. Be kind, caring, and polite in society. Try your best and if it's not good enough then try to do a little better the next time. That's life. That's important.

Those things and having big feet.

That's important too.

Peace and love.

One Lovely Blog Award

So, I'm a nominee.
Doesn't mean I won anything, but at least I was nominated.

Akin to Alfred Hitchcock. Can you believe Hitch never won an academy award? They tossed him an honorary award (The Thalberg award, which apparently goes to the greatest director of all time that gets screwed by the movie industry and never won an Oscar. Named after Irving Thalberg who directed such classics as Jesse James Meets Frankenstein's Daughter. Well, not really, but I bet you're picking up what I'm laying down)


Anywho, I've been doing this blogging business for a little more than a year now. I've found it to be a much more pleasurable pastime than my old hobby which involved nudity and bike riding...two things that should never be uttered in the same sentence, let alone practiced. Or visualized.

But I digress.

I do love the writing though.It finds me able to do something I enjoy and "sort of" sharing it with folks is a bit of a thrill. I think the people that read my blogs get a pretty good feel for who I am and what makes me tick, even if you don't know me well. I like people that get it. I'm not such a fan of those that don't.

Back to the award.

Following the protocol that goes with this nomination is a requirement that I offer up seven random facts about me.
Here we go...

I'll call this
Seven Random Facts About Me

1) I spent the first fifteen years of my life lying about my middle name. Up until then it was Joe. At least I didn't take a pen to my birth certificate and add an "a" to Ann like someone in my family did. Someone that's not one of my two brothers. Someone that's my sister. My sister, the well respected nurse. Just don't let her near any birth certificates.
Oh, my middle name is Joel. I guess I didn't need to add an "l" to my birth certificate like someone in my family did. My Mom did it for me.


2) Pete likes the Kinks more than the Stones. Need I say more?


3) Although my real career has been in the fruit and vegetable business for over thirty years I never consumed a banana until this decade.


4) I'd feel less anxiety having to stand in front of an auditorium full of strangers and give a five minute impromptu unrehearsed speech on a subject I know nothing about than I would hanging a picture on a wall in my own living room. Remember, I'm the guy that nailed the wheels to my pine box derby car. Well done.


5) Has never met a person named Pete that I didn't like. I don't think. Speaking of Pete's you like, anyone remember Pete and Pete on Nickelodeon back in the early 90's? Best kid's show. Ever. Plus two Petes for the price of one.


6) Once lost 50 pounds. Then gained back 60. Kid you not. I suck. Actually I eat. More than I should. Oh (and here's an edit from the original post)..I've since lst 50 again. I rock.


7) I'd like to be in a play. The memorization may be an insurmountable hurdle though.


The next protocol that goes with being nominated is to list blogs that I follow (supposed to be ten, but God's honest truth, I don't follow ten blogs), so I'll steal from the seven things about myself and list seven blogs that I recommend

SEVEN BLOGS FOR SEVEN DAYS

Dining with the Duleys - Actually this is just one of the Duleys, Joe. Joe and Charly Duley are two of the most creative, artistic, and overall decent folks that I know. Oh, and Joe's a Beatles fan and Charly is a Brit. How do you like them apples? This link actually goes to something that Joe writes for the Examiner, but to me it's still Dining with the Duleys. Oh, and be sure to listen to their radio show Tuesday at 7:30 on WMPG 90.9. You're welcome.

Scratch Baking -A blog from my favorite Bakery and if you know me, that's high praise. It's so popular that unless you catch it right, there's a decent chance that you may be waiting in line for the fresh bagels to come out of the kitchen with about twenty others. Fortunately, I've never witnessed any fisticuffs amongst the huddled masses. Maybe a scrum or two, but no fisticuffs. Oh, and it's ten minutes from my house..and I'm a "regular".

The Honey Exchange - A nice blog from a guy with a wicked sense of humor and a brilliant wife. The Honey Exchange is their business that is about all things bees. Great concept...saw a need and filled it. Well done and I hope their endeavour is as hugely successful as it deserves to be. Bring your honey to buy some honey and all other honey  accoutrements. Oh, and did I mention they sell beer, mead, and wine? Well, they do.

Julie True Kingsley's Blog - Would you believe all of these first four blogs originate from my home town? They do. Pretty creative little hood I live in. Julie is an honest to goodness writer (yes, I mean published) and her style puts mine to shame. Oh, and she was the one that nominated me. Thank you Julie.

Food Coma - Joe Ricchio is one crazy mofo. Joe appears in all things media with the main goal (at least as it appears to me) is to get the messge out that you do not hve to accept the lowest common denominator of food choices in the gastronomically diverse state that is Maine. He blogs, writes for Maine magazine, produces and stars in videos, bar tends, and makes cameos on local newscasts...all promoting his love of food. Although we are "facebook" friends we do not know each other, but I did see him perusing local offerings at the Portland Public Market in Monument Square one day this Summer and I told him it reminded me of what it must have been like to watch Ted Williams pick out his bat before stepping into the on deck circle. Mad props.

pORTcITYdAILYpHOTO -I like pictures. I wish I had the eye that some of my gifted photographer friends do...but I don't, so that's my cross to bear. Shed no tears for me, I'll be fine. This site has some pretty cool photos from scenes around town. I enjoy the clever captions as much as I do the photos. Hope you do too.

all music - Alright, finally a blog that isn't local..not like that's necessarily a good thing, it just is what it is. This is a good site because it speaks to all music (hence it's name) not just what the "people who know such things" tell me is the music I should be listening to. Screw them.

So on that positive note, this one's done.