flightless hag

A chronicle of the adventures of birdwoman: a lonely, talentless freak who wanders the internet in search of entertainment.

My Photo
Location: Philly

I'm a 40-something married white female, survivor of weight watchers, avid reader of pulp. Dogs (not cats), extreme right (handed, not politics), ENTJ, alto, wanna-be knitter.

January 31, 2005

She Was An American Girl

Walked into the caf this morning (yes, the one I've talked about before) to make my ciddles (or cereal, for those who don't talk the talk). Caf dude had the radio on, and Tom Petty was playing…
"Oh yeah, all right, take it easy baby, make it last all night…"

Any time I hear this song, I think of that poor Senator's daughter, singing along in her car, just about to tangle with Buffalo Bill. Silence Of The Lambs ruined that song for me!

Any song that is forever tied to a movie or tv scene for you, gentle reader? (I think I have a reader out there…)


Devil's Haircut

(that's a Beck reference, for those who are bothered by such things)

I gotta stop being such a tightwad.

I used to go to this great hairdresser - even MY hair looked good coming out of her salon. And then it just got to the point when I couldn't justify the cost anymore. I mean, come on. $45 for a haircut?

So I started going back to my old college haunt, the Haircuttery. (Actually, it's worse than that. In college, I was such a cheap bastard that I used to go to the beauty school and be a test person for them to try out their newly-enhanced cutting skills. But it only cost $5, and most times, it was usually a more than passable haircut. I digress.)

The last time I went to the Haircuttery, a very nice young lady led me to a chair. I thought, "this is gonna be ok". Then, she lifted up a lock of my hair. Her hand was shaking. I mean, shaking like she was having
DT's or something. The haircut was surprisingly OK, but I about wet my undies when she brought out the straight razor to shave the back of my neck. One small cut later, I got outta there.

Yesterday, I gave them a second chance. Again, the woman who called my name seemed reasonable enough. Then, she started walking to her chair. No, walking isn't the right term. Think Quasimodo. Somehow, she managed to cut my hair and there are only a few hunks missing here and there.

Maybe $45 isn't too much for a haircut, after all.


January 26, 2005

The Whacky Workplace World

What on earth is going on in the workplace today? There's fear of harassment everywhere, people being hired based on color or gender if skill is close to being equal. PC seems to have taken over corporate America.

Then, I read these two stories.

Drudge pointed me to an
article about a benefits company that actually requires all of its workers to be non-smokers. Even OFF COMPANY TIME!! This, to me, is the equivalent of Catholic schools or hospitals firing staff for using oral contraceptives. It's such an invasion of personal liberty that it makes ME want to call the ACLU.

Then, when reading US Spews and World Distort (my husband, the dirty bird, subscribes), I come across a
story about a growing number of chaplains in the workplace. I'll say that again, Chaplains in the Workplace. This strikes me as something that the dei-phobes in this country would be shrieking about. I mean, if they can read "freedom from religion" into the constitution, than this is a flagrant infringement on people's atheistic rights!

Maybe the pendulum is swinging back to employer rights over individual employee preferences. I don't know. I just thought it was weird.


Tell Me the Old, Old Stories

About ten years ago, I was bitten by a bug. The genealogy bug. I had the strange compulsion to try to find out as much of my family's history as I could and write it all down.

Now, being the youngest of eight, while my mother was also the youngest of eight, this was no easy task. My grandparents had all passed on. I wasted several good years as a sullen teenager with two bright Grandmas who would have loved to tell stories, but, regret gets us nowhere. And I still had several aunts left who were willing to talk.

I also found several people online who were cousins and were more than willing to share what they had found. So, I bought myself some software (family tree maker - excellent stuff, by the by) and started typing.

Along the way, I decided to try to dig into my paternal grandmother's mother's family - something none of my contacts had done in depth. My great-grandmother, Anna Bertha Crompton (~1876 - 1960), was a mythical figure to me. She lived the end of her life partially with my own parents. She suffered from dementia and could not live on her own. By the time I came around, her former house was a tumbling ruin on an old back road that we passed on the way to visit relatives weekly. I would look at it in wonder. All we had left of that house were a few keys from the organ that Bertha used to play.

Bertha's own life was not one of ease. The bare facts that have been found, along with the stories that have been passed along, illuminate a life that was quite rocky.

In 1899, Bertha married a Mr. Jacob Carrier, who stated that he was a widower. He lied. He was convicted of bigamy in 1899 (I get images of Mr. Rochester here, though that's probably the romantic in me). Bertha, thrown out on her own, became a lady maid to Fannie Pratt - milliner.

By 1900, Anna Bertha Crompton had married "up" into the Avery family. My great-grandfather was not the most upstanding of citizens, having been married twice and being more than a bit fond of hard cider. Bertha's own brothers protested the marriage because of "Fiddler Bob's" bad rep, and chased the couple to Montrose, where they were married. But Bertha would not be swayed, or so legend has it. William Henry "Bob" Avery was a good man, and speculation (and census records) has it that he and Bertie were in the family way when he married her (she had been his sister's maid…).

Bertie lost three children to disease - her only two sons and one of her daughters. Her remaining four daughters were TAKEN by the Avery family to be raised "correctly". These upstanding women wouldn't deign to have children themselves, but they were determined that Avery children would be raised properly. My own grandmother was raised by her Aunt Fannie and Uncle Emmons Pratt (who, since he was so often spurned by his wife, was said to have turned some unwelcome attention to my grandmother.) Aunt Alice was raised by George and Alice Avery. They told her that her parents didn't want her, so they took her, and they refused to allow Anna Bertha any correspondence with "their" daughter. It was only later in life that my grandmother reunited with her sister and told her of how their mother had cried every week at the returned letters, and later, at the unanswered phone calls.

Of Bertha's family, there is not much detail to find. After all, the Crompton family wasn't the crème of society. What detail there is to find is poignant and sometimes tragic.

Her father - Mr. Thomas Crompton - had served in the civil war, and had committed suicide in mid-life, leaving a pitiful estate to his widow and children. Her mother - Maria Bennet - died in her late seventies, a resident of a hotel in downtown Tunkhannock (she had eventually lost her home).

Bertha's sister, Mida, had been born "feeble of mind" (it ran in the family), and perished in the 1930's in a fire in the state home for widows and orphans of Civil War vets where she resided. The rest of the Crompton siblings were sent to the Soldiers' Orphans School in Harford, where they received education and board, as their own mother could not care for them.

Her paternal grandfather - Matthew Crompton - had been an immigrant from England (interesting note: this is the most recent immigration in my family - most of 'em that I can trace came over during the 1600's), and his wife, Temperance, had the unfortunate heritage of coming from New Jersey. But she overcame this and moved to Pennsylvania.

Bertha's mother's family (William Bennet b~1817 and Maria Comstock b ~1817) hailed from Northeastern PA, but disappear into history. I can't track where the Bennets or Comstocks came from that produced this family. But, the Bennet family itself had a few strange stories. The two youngest sons, in particular, had a hard time.

Benjamin was either fond of drinking or fighting or both. His only appearance in the annuls of history, besides census records, are the newspaper items detailing his death at age 22 as the result of a (bar) fight.

Zorah Bennet, though, is the tragic figure in the family. He was, also, feeble minded, as noted in several documents. At his mother's death in 1889, he was sent to the newly-opened Danville Hospital for the Mentally Insane. He passed the rest of his life there and died in obscurity, no one claiming kinship or responsibility for him. His corpse was donated to science (at the time, this was extremely insulting. In many civilized places, it was still illegal to study cadavers.) I find it particularly sad, because, of course, he had relatives living. He had to. I'm his relative, and I'm alive.

But life was different then. As poor as this family was, they probably couldn't afford the fees of Zora's care, and had to consign him to being without family. And they probably did it with heavy hearts.

Stories like these remind me that "the good old days" don't exist. They make me thankful to live now, where infant and child mortality rates are low, where "feeble mindedness", often the result of bad pre-natal care or harsh birth, is sometimes preventable or treatable. Where you can marry "up" (I certainly did) and people don't really raise an eyebrow.

But still, they are interesting to read, and they bring history alive to me in a way that textbooks never did.


The Tunkhannock paper reports:
Mar 1 1889
Bennett, Zora, of Meshoppen, was judged insane by the commission, and was taken to Danville.

Thursday, 13 July 1911
d) Zora Bennett in Danville, a county charge. No record of relatives could be found. By law, the body was sent to the Anatomical College of Philadelphia. Zora Bennet was the 6th patient on the roster of the hospital.

(neither of these are worded exactly, the records are at the Wyoming County Historical Society.

Kinship of Birdwoman

Name Relationship with Birdwoman Civil Canon
Bennet, Zorah 2nd great-granduncle VI 5

January 24, 2005

Recycling Gone Awry - Part Deux

Ok, Ok, I am SOoooooo glad I bring my lunch to work today.

What's on the menu?


I suppose that misspelling is accidental, too?

/third-grade humor


January 23, 2005

Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions - Baby Style

So, back in the day, Mad Magazine put out a book or three of snappy answers to stupid questions. You know, you've got the hood up on your car, steam/smoke/crazy liquid spewing everywhere, and some joker passer-by asks "Car trouble?". You can't think of what to say... but MAD did. (something to the effect of "No, Demon trouble. Know a good priest?")

Now, there's a
whole website of crazy questions people are asking about how to name Precious Baby. And almost always, you can see the chemical truck stuck on the railroad tracks with the train coming, full speed. But this website gives such wonderful answers to the most loaded baby-name situations.

Q: I've suggested to my sister that she name her little girl to be - Manchester. She's not sure about it but she's considering. What do you think?
A: Clever. Like being named Pittsburg or Schenectady. Kid'll grow up to be beaten to death by Liverpool fans.

The fun goes on.

hat tip,
the art of the blog. From Blog Explosion.

January 21, 2005

50 Things I Love About Philly In No Order Particularly - #48

(Like the title says, this is a list of things I've loved about philly, in the 17 years I've lived in this area. Also, like the title says, they're in no particular order. It's also not an inculsive list. These were just the first fifty that popped into my head. I'm gonna dish one up fresh, weekly. Also, I've started at the "bottom" to keep you tuned in. It's part of my nefarious plan for readership. Mwa-ha-ha-haaaaa.)

Bridget Foy’s

When most people think South Street, they don’t think “Fine Dining”.

There’s stores like Zipperheads (is that even still there?) or Tower Records or Repo Records. There are the hole-in-the-wall bars that have tiny stages; there’s the TLA with its bad acoustics but great shows. There’s the place that sells lamp shades; there’s the chef’s market. There's wicca stores and tattoo shops. And the dining runs more to pizza or steaks than shi-shi-foo-foo dinner.

And then there are the people.

Tons and tons of people cruise south street on warm summer nights. Even in the cold of winter, south street is crowded with those wanting to see and those wanting to be seen.

Among the strange consumer conglomeration and all this voyeur-age, there’s a wonderful, wonderful restaurant called Bridget Foy’s.

The cuisine is, well, hard to describe. But it’s kind of what the French would cook if they were Americans. If you know what I mean. It’s damn good.

Also, they have these windows, and a terrace for seating, where you can watch the freaks on the street to your heart’s content. Unlike the neighboring bars, it’s not a meat market. It really is a fantastic dining experience.

I never discovered this restaurant until I came back to Philly as a worker bee, not as a student. I couldn’t have enjoyed it as a student – it’s too pricey. But I’ve enjoyed a number of meals at this little gem before or after some great concerts at above mentioned bars and the TLA.

Whether you're looking for a good drink or an excellent meal, if you're cruising South Street, Bridget Foy's is the place to go.


January 20, 2005

Did You Know?

Fun Fact #5648:

Cardboard can give papercuts!

Really big, gaping, gnarly papercuts that bleed for hours and hours!

I guess you really do learn something new every day. Or I do. Dammit.


January 19, 2005

Recycling Gone Awry

I work for a company that has several locations in a mile or so radius. Too far to walk, but too close to justify having full services in all of the buildings.

Our building gets minimal cafeteria service. They deliver any ordered food, and they have a soup and one entrée at lunch every day if you don’t pre-order.

For Thanksgiving, they had turkey with all the trimmings – and it was a free meal to all employees. I think perhaps, though, that they ordered too much turkey.

The next week, they had turkey in a few forms – cold on sandwiches, hot on sandwiches, as a side on the salad bar…

TWO WEEKS later, they delivered “burgers” to our building. They were supposed to be beef or chicken. The beef burgers were marked with a B, the chicken burgers were marked with a T.

Now, either it’s a Russian Tchicken, or they were serving up that tired old bird yet again.

They’re having turkey of some sort in the caf today. And for some reason, no one’s touching it.


January 13, 2005

50 Things I Love About Philly In No Order Particularly - #49

(Like the title says, this is a list of things I've loved about philly, in the 17 years I've lived in this area. Also, like the title says, they're in no particular order. It's also not an inculsive list. These were just the first fifty that popped into my head. I'm gonna dish one up fresh, weekly. Also, I've started at the "bottom" to keep you tuned in. It's part of my nefarious plan for readership. Mwa-ha-ha-haaaaa.)

St Mark's Church

Walking around center city Philadelphia, you'll see a lot of neat buildings. The area itself is not governed by any particular mood. There isn't the historic quality that Old City has, or the independent nature that Queen's village has, or even the urban industrial revival that Northern Liberties has. It's your generic "urban American" look. Moderate-sized sky scrapers mixed with small storefronts, flavored with row homes on side streets, and dotted with the occasional WaWa. Hidden among the small parks and large buildings is a beautiful 19th-century red stone church – St. Mark’s Episcopal.

St. Marks has special meaning to me. I sang there for five years while I was in college. But I fell into that position. I actually started attending that church when I moved to center city – the first week I attended, the rector gave quite a disparate message. He talked about all sorts of things: one part I remember in particular was a section on astrophysics. The big-bang theory insists that the universe is currently expanding, yet radio signals from parts of the universe seem to indicate that it is contracting. He talked about other contradictions in history, biology… even theology. He closed with the following line, “And that’s why we need women in the priesthood. We need another point of view to help us understand the world around us.” He turned off the microphone and sat down.

(There had been a big feud in the Anglican church at the time as to whether or not to allow women into the priesthood.)

His sermons never ceased to inspire thought – which I love in a minister.

When they announced that they were looking for section leads in the choir, I auditioned. I had sung for several years, and was, at the time, in some Temple University choirs. But the thing that clinched the position for me, I believe, was that I actually attended the church. The choirmaster seemed to appreciate that.

The choir wasn’t the best in town – the last time I went downtown for a service there, the choir was vastly improved. It was truly awesome. But we were pretty good. And the organist was top notch. The instrument itself was amazing.

The building is beautiful – a small oasis in a busy district.

But the architecture and setting really fade in importance to the memories for me. St. Marks will always have a special place in my heart and mind.


January 11, 2005

This Means War

Someone just pooted in my cube.

Just stood here, discussing a problem, and cut one.

Now, it was an SBD (silent but deadly, for those who aren't up on third-grade lingo), so I suppose he thought it would go unnoticed.

But, when it was obvious I smelled it, what did he do? Nothing.

Of course, I'm not sure how it could have been handled more gracefully.

*sigh* it's gonna be one of those days.


January 10, 2005

Why I Am Not Pro-Life

As I stated in a previous post, I am mostly a conservative person. But there are two issues that bring out the flaming liberal in me. The first was gay rights. The other is abortion rights.

First off, the "two sides" of this argument are not two sides of an argument at all. One side fights for women's rights, the other fights for baby's rights. So, as far as that goes, it's a wash. I don't want to hurt women or children.

But when it comes down to abortion, there are two big questions I think need an answer:

  • when does the egg/sperm combo (the zygote, as I seem to remember from seventh grade biology) become a human baby?
  • when does the parent have the right to say the termination of a pregnancy may be in the best interest of the family?

I realize that for some, these answers are written in stone and are commanded from God. But for those of us who live in a non-religion dominated world, these are questions that we have to search for answers to.

In my mind, the zygote-to-baby transformation takes place sometime before the fetus can live outside the womb. This is a grey time, this between when fertilization occurrs and when the fetus becomes a baby. Before that time, though - say, the first trimester - I don't see any problem with abortion, be it hormonal birth control, "morning-after" type drugs, or even mechanical abortion.

If a fetus can live outside a womb (I think the common term is viable), then, in my opinion, abortion is the killing of a baby. And, for arguments sake, let's say that any time after the first trimester, the fetus is a human baby.

Is it always wrong to kill a baby? Again, in my opinion, no.

There are cases which I have seen where the baby would have died, had it been up to nature. But medicine intervenes, keeping a baby alive. I have a justification problem here - you're not allowed to use medicine to terminate the pregnancy when it's pretty obvious the baby will be severely - even fatally - physically challenged. Yet, you're allowed to use medicine to prolong the life of that same child - even when that prolonged "life" is more like torture for the baby. (and I've had surgery. It hurts. A lot.)

Like a friend's baby, born with a terminal problem, who lived for 28 months, endured at least 6 major surgeries, countless minor procedures, knew the hospital better than his own home, and died, hooked up to tubes, surroundedby machines. There was another, well publicised case about the woman who bore the Downs Syndrome child. Without the interference of modern medicine, this baby would have died shortly after birth - it could not feed itself. Yet, the mother was forced to tube feed the baby, and she felt what she was doing was torture. She killed her baby, then she killed herself. She claimed she could not torture her child, and could not live once her child was dead. And this woman was no white trash idiot. She was a respected professor at a major university whose religion forbade abortion.

I can't argue quality of life issues for people who are challenged. I know that these are people, and I know they deserve to live. But I also know that modern medicine has allowed life where once there was none, and I don't know that that's always in the best interest of the family or the child. What happens to that child when the caring family members die?

Questions like these haunt parents who find out that the child they are going to have is going to be severely challenged. I know that the decision to terminate the pregnancy is a terrible one, but I think it's a choice that families should be allowed to make. Just as they should be allowed to let the baby be born and try as hard as modern medicine can to keep that baby alive.

The issue is not one of black or white, and it's not a decision that I would allow someone else to make for me. My heart aches for my friends who terminated the pregnancy of the child with severe Downs Syndrome. My heart aches for my friends who just lost their 2 month old son to complications of his birth condition. I have empathy for people who choose life, and for the people who do not. I can't make decisions for them, and I don't think anyone else should, either.


January 07, 2005

What Happened To Milo?

Just finished watching season 1 of the most excellent show, 24. If any of the two people who eventually reads this knows, please tell me... what happened to Milo?

I don't recall him getting iced.

Then again, I'd forget my own children if they didn't whine at me all the time. So it could have happened and I forgot...


Grumble Grumble Grumble

It's the cold season here. Everyone's coughing and hacking and wheezing and sneezing.

I have been very lucky so far. I think running helps protect you from respiratory problems, but that's just my theory...

But the tissue box on my desk is almost empty. (and I buy Puffs, because I prefer the very best.)

It happens every year. Allergy and cold seasons - I get a lot more visitors at my desk.

I wouldn't complain, but jeezus, there are people who come over 4 or so times a day to "borrow" a tissue.

I realize I'm a mommy, but I'm not YOUR mommy. Goddammit, buy your own supplies!



January 05, 2005

50 Things I Love About Philly In No Order Particularly - #50

(Like the title says, this is a list of things I've loved about philly, in the 17 years I've lived in this area. Also, like the title says, they're in no particular order. It's also not an inculsive list. These were just the first fifty that popped into my head. I'm gonna dish one up fresh, weekly. Also, I've started at the "bottom" to keep you tuned in. It's part of my nefarious plan for readership. Mwa-ha-ha-haaaaa.)

Grey Eye Glances

Every area has their hometown heroes, their unsung singers. We’ve had some great bands out of Philly – Hall and Oates comes to mind. But one of my favorite bands that has a good local following but never really “made it” is a band called Grey Eye Glances.

They started as a trio – female singer/guitar player Jennifer (her voice kinda reminds me of Linda Ronstadt), bass player Eric, and keyboard player/songwriter Dwayne. They’ve added a guitar player and a percussionist, but the core remains this close-knit trio.

They’re a mellow band with some very strong songs. Eventide is one of the best mellow albums I’ve ever consumed. Their concerts (I’ve seen them three times over the years) are always fun, and usually play in a comfy venue, so none of the music is lost. Unlike many bands, they know how to play live – they don’t usually rush things, and they play the crowd well, like a bunch of old friends.

Check out some of the samples on the page. Grab yerself a copy of Eventide if you’re a mellow music fan, and lose yourself in the dulcet tones of this Philly treasure.

(*)> (typed whilst listening to Days to Dust…)

January 04, 2005

50 Things I Love About Philly In No Order Particularly - Intro

Recently, Marjo M linked to my blog, saying she wanted to build a network of Philly blogs.

This got me to thinking - what is it about Philly? You know, I think this area has one of the worst attitudes in the country. I've never heard other citizens of other cities dis their hometowns as much as Philly people do.

I've lived here for - gosh - almost 17 years?! As long as I lived at home, just about! Aside from a brief stay in Princeton, I've lived in Philly or its suburbs since I left home at 17. And, don't get me wrong, there are some real problems with this area. But, there are some real benefits, too.

We're like the sixth biggest city in the country; we have an abundance of culture, history, and opportunity; we have scenery, we have "urban-ness", we have neighborhoods. So, instead of complaining about Philly, as I usually do, I decided to write down the first 50 things I could think of that I like (or have, in the past, liked) about this area.

Like the subject says, they're in no particular order. It's also not an inclusive list. These were just the first fifty that popped into my head. I'm gonna dish one up fresh, weekly, so I guess that means I'll be blogging for a year's worth of topics, anyway. And, they'll all have the same subject line, so if you want to, you can avoid 'em!


We've Got Company

Those of you who know us, up close and personal like, know that my mom has come down to spend some time with us this winter.

It amazes me, as I've gotten all these "condolence" looks. Or "are you nuts?" looks.

I don't think anyone understands just how much of a help this is to me.

1) She's like a housework elf. I go to work, come home, and suddenly my refridgerator is clean. Or the steps to the cellar are clean. Or the floor has been swept. Or the furniture has been dusted.

2) She's taking care of my older son. Where I come from, that's to the tune of $1000 per month. (yes, that's the right number of zeroes).

and most importantly:

3) my kids are getting to know their Grandma. I can't express how important this is to me. I didn't know either of my grandfathers - one died before I was born, the other I remember sketchily. I remember my grandmas, though. Having that continuity is very important to me. I'd like my kids to have the same thing.

There is a little strangeness - probably more for John than for me. But we're working full time. The only time we really see each other to get on each others' nerves is on the weekends - which pass entirely too quickly. Having another person to talk to at the end of the day is more comforting than bothersome, at least to me.

Maybe I'm crazy, but I really enjoy having her down with us.

And the side benefits are nothing to sneeze at! (I'm thinking about putting a side bar status as to how many loads of laundry I haven't had to do since she's come... Of course, I might get the count wrong. I'll sure miss doing laundry when I get home at night. Heh.)


January 03, 2005

What Is that Smell??

When I was 13 years old, my angry 17-year-old sister and I went to spend a week with my cool urban brother and his girlfriend. We were country folk; he lived in the suburbs of DC.

He took us to all sorts of things - the July 4 celebration on the mall (I, of course, wondered where the stores were), the Smithsonian (of which, I only remember the air and space museum with it's "To Fly" IMax experience and the M*A*S*H exhibit... go figure), and my first rock n' roll concert.

Ron and Ginny (no, not Weasely, though as a HP fan, I think their names are a cool coincidence) took us to see Jimmy Buffett.

Now, I'd never really heard any Jimmy Buffett, and I'd never been to a concert. This was, I think, at Wolftrap - or some other big outdoor venue. And I was kind of a naive kid, being my mother's daughter (she still thinks the lyrics to "Lay Down Sally" are "Way Down South") and being the product of a farm upbringing. These are the observations I remember from that concert:

  • My brother had become completely intolerant of smokers. I mean, our father smoked like it was going out of style. And he smoked stinky cigars. But my brother was extremely angry at the couple next to us for smoking next to me, a kid. I mean, so the cigarettes smelled a little funny. What's the big deal? (heh)
  • I had no idea that carpentry and alcohol went well together... (check out the song that this post references - it's actually what got me on this tangent...).

If I never said so, Ron and Ginny, thanks for putting up with two bratty kids that week!


January 01, 2005

A Year of Entertainment

I've made myself an honourary Aussie this year, so that I could ring in the new year in sunlight. My husband and I are fogeys - old before our times. We haven't watched the ball drop for years, shunning the bright lights for our pillows. Now you know our dirty seceret. But, I've pre-dated this post, so it looks like I stayed up all night typing it in. You know... "Flightless Hag's Bloggin New Year"

BUT, we have our own idea of what's entertainment (gutter-free), and here's some of the stuff I've managed to amuse myself with this past year...

This year I got XM Radio in my car. It rocks. I haven’t bought any new CD’s since then (though I’ve bought a plethora of old/used cd’s to beef up my MP3 collection). My favorite channels are:

  • 70’s on 7 (my kid can sing the jingle for that one, he’s heard it so much)
  • Lucy (what Y-100 should be)
  • XMU (if they’d only lose the hip-hop stuff, it’d be perfect)
  • Fred (old alternative)
  • Squizz (new metal type stuff)
  • Soul Street (name says it all)
  • The Village (folk music)
  • America Right (Glenn Beck, Michael MedV-as-in-Victory-ed)

I’ve read too many books to mention. Most of them were delightful trash (romances, vampire books, fantasy, or a mixing of any of the above). I went on a spate of Juvie fiction – thus finding the Bloody Jack series that totally rocks ( she’s a pirate!). Also, I found the Jasper Fforde series that begins with the Eyre Affair – saving the sequels for the beach next year.

I went to see IN the THEATER in 2004 (not with John, though, as he hates going to the movies these days):

  • Blade Trinity (Blade III)
  • Bourne Supremacy / I, Robot / Catwoman – bourne supremacy made me violently ill, so I left and watched pieces of the two other turds listed.
  • Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (hp3)
  • Hellboy
  • Hero
  • House of Flying Daggers
  • The Incredibles
  • Kill Bill Vol. 2
  • Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow
  • Spider-Man 2
  • The Village

I think that’s all. And, of course, I don’t remember what order I saw them in.

Pretty entertaining, all in all. I guess I'm easily impressed!