And They Still Cannot Pay Their Teachers Enough, Probably

Inside the indoor athletic facility arms race that’s sweeping the Ozarks:

A day after Republic voted to pass a bond issue allowing it to build a multi-million dollar indoor athletics facility, the phones rang at the high school all day.

The calls weren’t from any angry residents who might have attempted to vote the issue down. Instead, they were from athletic directors and administrators all over the state. They wanted to know how the southwest Missouri school district got such a project off the ground, and if they could schedule times to visit.

Many of those same administrators called Nixa High School to see if they could tour its $18 million indoor facility, which is set to open this summer. Other possible tour sites include the facility at Logan-Rogersville High School, 20 miles down the road, or the one that opened at Ozark High a year ago.

A day after I voted against the bond issue, you mean.

Because building it is one thing, but after building it must be maintained. Every year something (and every year more) has to come from the budget which won’t pay teachers or support book, sorry, free laptops for students learning.

Meanwhile, private groups are building for-profit indoor and outdoor sports facilities; non-school are looking to build indoor facilities; and non-school governments are spending millions to acquire indoor sports facilities.

Basically, it’s the convention center arms race again, where “competing” cities overbuild capacity, find them to be financial sinkholes, and then have to upgrade them to remain competitive in chasing a limited market. All so that government officials can burnish their resumes for their next gigs and fail upward.

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As I Was Sayin’ (Tech Paranoia Edition)

I have said, on occasion, a couple of things which I meant to be a little speculative:

  • It’s not that your phone is listening to you; it’s that everyone’s phone and gadget are listening to you
  • Companies are going to break privacy laws, covenants, and mores and are willing to pay a little fine if they get caught

Pixy’s Daily Tech News for May 11, 2025 links to this Please Donate story: Google will pay Texas $1.4B to settle claims the company collected users’ data without permission:

The agreement settles several claims Texas made against the search giant in 2022 related to geolocation, incognito searches and biometric data. The state argued Google was “unlawfully tracking and collecting users’ private data.”

Paxton claimed, for example, that Google collected millions of biometric identifiers, including voiceprints and records of face geometry, through such products and services as Google Photos and Google Assistant.

Google spokesperson José Castañeda said the agreement settles an array of “old claims,” some of which relate to product policies the company has already changed.

Do you think they were just looking at those voiceprints, or do you think they were globally matching voices with spoken text from any recording or open mic everywhere? If not, why not?

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Book Report: Beyond These Hills: A Book of Eskimo Poems photographs by Guy Mary-Rousselière (1961)

Book coverI just bought this former library book from the Knoxville High School Library at the Friends of the Library book sale on May 3, and I jumped into it after the collection of Finnish proverbs.

This says it’s a book of Eskimo poems, but it’s really a book of photos of Eskimos and the great white north with poems as text. The photos are more interesting than the poetry, which mostly deal with the landscape and survival, and the photos show you why. The collection is 60-something now, and I wonder how different a 21st century edition of the book would look different. Many of the photos depict the outcome of a hunt, and one of the poems talks happily about having seal to eat. I mean, that’s life in the harsh environment, but people in New York who make books would likely blanche at the thought of it.

So a quick read. No poems I’m interested in memorizing and not even aphorisms or proverbs to quote to sound smart. But, wow, what interesting photographs.

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Good Junk Hunting, May 10, 2025: Estate and Yard Sales

Does this count as book hunting? Album hunting? Not really enough of either to be specific. I spotted signs for a nearby estate sale on Thursday and Friday, so I brought my youngest who wanted to look for collectibles like coins and cards (which would be long gone by Saturday, but he came along anyway). The southern campus of our church was also having a sale to raise money for the pre-school, and we discovered another church sale along the way.

And I got a couple things.

For books, I got:

  • Days of Our Lives: The Complete Family Album. While I was in college, my stepmother recorded the program (on VCR, young man, not Tivo) and I’d catch bits of it when she caught up on Friday nights. This was in the Fake Roman/John storyline era, so early 1990s. The student union common had a big television (a big deal in 1990), and it was tuned to this show during the lunch hour. I fantasized about striking up a conversation with a girl and talking about the show, but I never did. The only girl I ever struck a conversation with out of the blue was Brandy in my biology class my freshman year, which was like my first college class ever. But she was wearing a Billy Joel tour shirt, so clearly we had musical taste in common, although I would not see Billy Joel in concert for another decade.
  • Danmark, a book about Denmark whose text is in four different languages. So the picture to reading will be slightly higher than otherwise.
  • A Garden Full of Love: The Fragrance of Friendship by Sandra Kuck. A collection not unlike an issue of Ideals.
  • Skipping Christmas by John Grisham. I recently saw the film Christmas with the Kranks where “recently” means 2023.
  • The Treasure Chest, a collection of quotes and poems grouped by them by Charles L. Wallis. It must have been a great gift in the 1960s, as Ebay shows a variety of editions at different price points (but not very high). The previous owner must have liked it, as it yielded three Found Bookmarks: A Christmas Card, a church service bulletin from 2001, and a Pick 4 lottery ticket from 1987. Which means the previous owner looked through it and/or marked things in at least two different decades.

I also got a Christmas record, Christmas Music from France; I’ve already played it, and only my beautiful wife, who is studying French, might be able to determine it’s Christmas music if she listened carefully.

I got a Kenny G CD, Miracles, which is also a Christmas album.

I got a little handheld Blackjack game for a buck which I didn’t have to wait to test at home as it has working batteries already (which might almost be worth the price I paid for the game). I also got a pack of Elvis trading card, apparently from 1992. The pack was partially opened, so my son pooh-poohed the purchase even though it’s the only thing like cards we saw today. I paid a buck for it and brought it home and learned (by, again, looking at Ebay) that Ebay is rife with unopened packs for $1. Which led me to a good lecture about the economics of collectibles. Namely, that when Boomers were hitting their play money years, they wanted things from their childhood–toys, baseball cards, comic books–which were scarce because they and their parents considered them to be disposable. So they were chasing after limited stock. But their splashing money around led to a bunch of new comic and trading card companies and sets springing up, and the Boomers were snapping them up not only enjoyment, but as a speculative investment. Which leads to a glut of unopened sets of Elvis cards in peoples’ basements or climate-controlled storage facilities and listed on Ebay for less than their inflation-adjusted original price.

He’s been buying a hella lotta Pokémon cards lately, hoping to find valuable cards in packs. I guess the company is not flooding the market but are consciously choosing some scarcity, but the biggest scores and highest prices in the secondhand market are going to be from the early sets of the cards from 30 years ago, when, again, they were a toy and were not expected to be investments.

I guess the way to hit it in that sort of collectible market is to find a commodity that everyone thought was disposable but where eventual scarcity might lead to value if anyone bothers to collect mementoes of their youth in their middle age. I’m not sure this will occur to generations beyond Gen X. Maybe early, early millenials (90s kids). What do the others have good memories of their youths? Interchangeable smartphones and tablets mostly.

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Book Report: Finnish Proverbs translated by Inkeri Väänänen-Jensen (1990)

Book coverI have dived right into the stack of “poetry”” that I purchased earlier this month partially because I have not been arsed to put them on my bookshelves yet, so they’re still on my (rather large) desk. Maybe I’m thinking with dedicated effort, I will read them all before I shelve them kind of like I’m hoping to watch all the movies atop the movie cabinet soon (but my night gig has restarted, so my reading and viewing time will be lessened for a couple of months).

The translator/editor is the child of Finnish immigrants, and this book was partially funded by a university where the translator works (or worked) in a Finnish fellowship or something, so the author has other presumably short works related to Finnish literature as well. But this book is but a collection of proverbs and sayings along with some line drawings of Finnish places and design elements. So it’s definitely a quick read–under an hour, for sure, and it has some little bits of wisdom, although some of the proverbs are not unique to Finns.

I marked a couple:

  • Better once too much than always too little.
  • You can fool others only once but yourself for a lifetime.
  • What you do not repair you destroy.
  • You do not reach Heaven in one jump.
  • Not all clouds bring rain.

I cannot wait to use them and announce they’re proverbs from the Finnish. You know I will.

I’m actually vicariously Finnish to a degree. One of my uncles is of Finnish lineage. His daughter is blonde and fair, but the son got the darker complection from the Noggle side of the family, so he has a Finnish last name but looks like a Mexican bandito. He, my cousin, has been to Finland to meet his relations several times and actually speaks a bit of Finnish. So I’m only vicariously Finnish, which is odd since I have lineage from just about every other European country.

So, yeah, worth the fifty cents I paid for it.

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Book Report: Sonnets and the Ballad of Alanna MacDale by Michael J. O’Neal (2019)

Book coverI mentioned when reading Fatal Interview that I was reading another collection of sonnets simultaneously; this is it. I bought this book last spring at the Friends of the Library book sale; it’s clear I haunt the dollar (fifty cents on half price day) poetry table.

So: This is a contemporary collection, only six years old, but it’s anachronistic as the poet tries to emulate medieval sonnets. Not only does the poet affect some middle English stylings, but the sonnets are English style as well (abab cdcd efef gg, with three samples and the couplet instead of the Italian sonnet which is 8 lines and a turn for 6 lines–which is what Edna St. Vincent Millay and I wrote back in the day). And the text of all poems is italic, perhaps to look more like handwriting, but that’s always a poor design decision as it slows reading down just a bit.

The poems? Eh, okay, I guess. The rhythm is fairly suspect–the poet does not stick to iambic pentameter much.

But, you know what? They’re earnest, and I have to say I developed a little…. well, maybe not affection for them–I won’t memorize any of them for open mic nights–but I did feel a little sympathy or camaraderie with the fellow. When I was in college, my poetry professor knocked my poetry for being like reproductions of antique furniture. My later sonnets had a more modern sensibility. Even Edna St. Vincent Millay’s hundred-year-old sonnets read a little more contemporary than this book.

So perhaps this poet will also evolve. But you really have to be in the mood for this kind of thing to take much from this volume.

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Movie Report: Marked for Death (1990)

Book coverI just watched some 1980s-era Stallone films (two of the three Rambo movies I just watched were from the 1980s), and one (meaning I) can forget the heirarchy of the action films of the day. Stallone and Schwarzenneggar were the top; Chuck Norris was no better than a B; and Steven Seagal was kind of a C-level. Just above direct-to-video or direct-to-cable fare. And eventually he would get down to that sort of level. I guess his biggest film, Under Siege, was in the future, but he had a stack of films right at the turn of the 1990s, and I tend to think of On Deadly Ground and Glimmer Man as past the peak. But that’s just me.

So: Seagal plays a DEA deep cover agent who loses a partner on a deal gone bad and he retires or takes some time off and goes home to find a former colleague coaching high school football. Jamaican posses are moving in with their crack and their brutality, displacing the Colombians and their cocaine. Although Seagal tries to stay out of it, he gets involved after a gangland massacre where he catches one of the Jamaicans, and the Jamaicans mark he and his family for death. With the help of a cop on loan from the Jamaican authorities and the football coach, they take down the powerful leader of the posse whom supposedly has strong magic, but the obvious twist is that he has a twin brother that nobody knew about even though he was always around and just out of sight.

So, yeah, it’s what you would expect: Seagal acting stoicly (or not acting maybe), some martial arts, and gun play. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a Seagal film–I’ve seen his 80s work, I saw Under Siege in the theater, and a couple of other things from the 1990s. But I am not a particular fan. And it might be a while before I watch another. Unless I find a boxed set for a buck or something.

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Book Report: The Buck in the Snow and Other Poems by Edna St. Vincent Millay (1928)

Book coverI am enjoying running through the stack of Edna St. Vincent Millay books I bought last autumn–I read Fatal Interview last month, and when I went to the book sale last week, I hoped to buy additional copies of Millay’s work so I could put them in my to-read stacks and read them again. But none were forthcoming, and I still have a few unread from last autumn. Or I could dig out my existing copies to re-read, but that’s not how I roll.

At any rate, this collection is not a collection of sonnets, but most of them have good rhythm and end rhymes anyway. The fourth part of the book does include some sonnets, though. And it’s not a series of connected works, unlike Fatal Interview, but you do get the usual Millay themes of love and longing and loss.

No penciled into the end papers, but it does have a book plate naming a previous owner (Reggie Johnson) and a label from the Personal Book Shop with two locations in Boston, Massachussetts. The book shop no longer seems open, and the style of the label indicates that it’s decades old, so. Someone, probably more than one person, enjoyed this book. Perhaps someday someone else will enjoy it when it passes from my hands.

Not much of a book report, but I can only gush about Millay as she is my favorite poet bar none.

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Why Do We Have So Much Garlic Salt?

Likely because every time my beautiful wife puts Garlic Powder on the list, I mistakenly grab another jar of Garlic Salt.

The grocery store is not helping.

Garlic Powder is on sale, but both rows in its slot are faced with Garlic Salt. And the one (1) jar of Garlic Powder is slotted where the Garlic Salt goes.

Ah, well. The three jars of Garlic Salt in the spice cabinet at home means it easier to find one when cooking. As I’ve started roasting potatoes with a variety of spices, I’ve picked up some more exotic flavorings (rosemary, dill, marjoram) that I didn’t think we had, but my wife has said we do. Oh, now I find them.

So I’m seeding my spice cabinet with duplicates to make sure I can locate one when I need it.

Now, the next trick is to use them before they lose their flavor.

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It’s Our Driveway, County

Petition aims to close a portion of a Christian County road to through traffic:

Holder Road has become the center of controversy in the small community near Clever. Those calling for the Christian County road to be closed are speaking out.

I saw this story covered a couple of weeks ago, and I’d not heard of Holder Road. But once a month, I drive from Republic to Nixa and like to take a couple of different routes just to keep things fresh. One is to take Highway ZZ to Highway 14, and the earlier story actually alerted me to this shortcut.

I tried to take it last Friday, but the article did not mention it is impassable in high water–it has a low water bridge–so I had to turn around part of the way along.

It’s a narrow and curvy road, so I don’t expect travelers can get up to a great head of steam on it, but country boys, you know.

But it does get my dander up when residents want the government to take a public good and make it private to them.

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Movie Report: Rambo: First Blood Part II (1985); Rambo III (1988), Rambo (2008)

Well, after picking these up at an estate sale a couple weeks ago, I thought maybe I would wait until I got a copy of First Blood to watch the series from the beginning, but I did not. I watched them not quite on consecutive nights, but enough to have them very fresh in mind as I moved to the next. I read the novels in 2008 (see First Blood and Rambo: First Blood Part II).

So: In Rambo: First Blood Part II, Colonel Trautman gets Rambo out of prison (for his actions in the first movie) on a covert mission into Vietnam to scout a prison camp that might hold American POWs. He is not to engage the enemy, though–only to confirm the presence of POWs, and a Delta Team will get them out. But while the government official running the op, Murdoch, expected the camp to be empty, the Vietnamese have rotated in prisoners, and Rambo liberates one and brings him to the extraction/exfil point. When Murdoch hears that, he aborts the mission before pickup, leaving Rambo to his fate. Rambo then breaks out with the help of his Vietnamese contact played by Julia Nickson and delivers the POWs of the camp to Murdoch.

The film would have been a scant decade after the end of the war, so it was still pretty fresh in the American zeitgeist (it was the topic of many films and television programs for quite some time). It had a couple of different acts to it and even a bit of depth to it. It’s not just jingoism; parts of the government (maybe all of it) are suspect and have their own agendas contrasting with that of the common man or soldier.

Rambo III, on the other hand–well, it lacks depth. It is a bit more….. jingoistic? It spends too much of its runtime explaining the gallant people of Afghanistan, those plucky guerrillas fighting against the Soviet menace. Trautman finds Rambo living in an ashram after the events of the second movie and stick-fighting for a little extra cash for the monks, and he invites Rambo to join him on an expedition into Afghanistan to find why one sector is particularly good at blocking arms shipments. Rambo demurs, but When Trautman is captured, he reconsiders and basically single-handedly invades a fortress. Well, he does have an Afghan guide and a child warrior for company, and the mujahideen do ride the rescue, but it’s overly simple and more comic-book/action movie than the others.

This film must have come on Showtime fresh right before we moved out of the trailer park, as I’ve seen it several times. But the only things that stuck with me were the opening scene and the cauterizing a wound with gundpowder scene. And my boys have not seen it, they have seen two films which parodied it: Hot Shots! Part Deux and UHF (which includes a parody of it in one of George’s daydreams).

Jeez, though, when you think that in a shorter span of time than the gap between Vietnam and the first (and second) films that the United States would be the target of those “gallant” freedom fighters. Life comes at you pretty fast especially in retrospect.

Rambo (don’t think too hard about the series numbering and naming convention) takes place 20 years later. Rambo is still living in southeast Asia. The Burmese civil war is raging–we get some expository footage to start the film–and a group of Christians is hoping to go up river to deliver medicine and hope to a persecuted Christian village, and they want to hire Rambo and his boat to take them. He demurs, but the woman of the group convinces him to help. So he takes them up river and protects them from pirates on the way. After they disembark, they’re captured by the local warlord who razes the village in the manner of Ghengis Khan. Rambo learns this when another member of their ministry arrives and commissions Rambo to ferry a team of mercenaries up river to find them. And he ends up taking a more active role in the rescue despite the mercenary leader dismissing him as just “the boat guy.”

This film, too, has some depth to it. Rambo is older, a bit more jaded and tired, but he has some attraction to the woman in the group which cannot be returned because she is, apparently, the fiancee of the group leader. And at the end, when they’re safe, she runs to him while Rambo watches from a distance. And Rambo returns to his hometown at the end of the film to reconcile with his father and/or family.

The shots are more dramatic as well–the 80s oranges have been washed out by the darkness of 21st century filmmaking, but Stallone, also the director, put some thought into them. Its effects are more gory than the 80s spot of blood and belly clutching–one online source said it was to maximize the effects budget because fake blood is cheap–but comparing other similar films from across those decades (see also On All The Conan Movies–so far) shows that it’s just how movies are made these days.

One thing to note about the films: They have mostly or all male casts. Rambo: First Blood Part II has the contact in Vietnam; Rambo III has a couple of extras amongst the Afghan tribespeople. Rambo has the woman who is on the missionary team and some extras. Very male dominated films, and I only note it because I know you want to see photos of the pretty actresses in them, and all you get is Julia Nickson. Continue reading “Movie Report: Rambo: First Blood Part II (1985); Rambo III (1988), Rambo (2008)”

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Book Report: The Man from Skibbereen by Louis L’Amour (1973, 1981)

Book coverTo break up the monotony of the paperback science fiction novels I’ve been reading (most recently Halo: The Fall of Reach), I picked up a paperback Western instead. Although this book is actually a paperback that’s been upgraded to the library binding (as it was in the library of Nixa High School in the early 1980s, with intermittent checkout stamps until 1988 which means while I was reading adult crime fiction from the volunteer library and Agatha Christie books from my school library, someone my age was already reading Westerns in high school). Someone else acquired this book and later donated it to the Friends of the Christian County Library book sale, where I bought it and other Westerns last June.

So: This is not one of L’Amour’s best.

In it, an Irish immigrant from the County Cork is heading west to work on the railroad; he has a disagreement with the conductor, he falls asleep on a layover and awakens to find the stationmaster missing (and later finds him wounded) as former Confederate soldiers hope to kidnap General Sherman from the train–but they end up with a colonel instead. The lovely daughter of the colonel wants to go looking for him, so the immigrant goes with her and has to learn the ways of the west as he goes.

So the book has many different foci: The kidnapping, the search, it turns into a boxing book in the middle as the immigrant gets a chance to box the conductor for money, then it’s back to a search and rescue and a big battle in the end and a brief one-on-one, and finis!

So a serviceable throwaway book, but not one heavy on the philosophy to quote in A Trail of Memories, although it had a few one-liners about proper manliness and self-reliance. So something to read if you’re looking for a Western, but not something to really pull you into appreciating the genre at its best if you’re not already a fan.

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Good Book Hunting, Saturday, May 3, 2025: Friends of the Springfield-Greene County Library Book Sale

I have already enumerated the LPs I bought this weekend on half price day at the semi-annual book sale at the Ozark Empire Fairgrounds. Now, gentle reader, you get to see what I bought in books and videos.

I didn’t get a whole lot of videos; they’d been picked over, and I’m already trying to clear recent overflow from the top of the video cabinet. Still, I got a couple:

  • Thin Ice, one of the Tom Selleck as Jesse Stone television movies.
  • Kingdom of Heaven.
  • Jeff Dunham: Arguing With Myself, a comedy special most likely to be the first thing I watch from this group.
  • The Big Easy. Not bought: The Hard Easy which was also available.
  • Marked for Death, a Steven Seagal film which I might already own. I do now for sure, anyway.

I kept mostly to the poetry table in the dollar books section, but did cruise into the better books section to look over old books. I did get several of the chapbook bundles, though, which is like a box of chocolates. Or three in this case.

I got:

  • A copy of Ideals magazine, the Liberty issue from January 1976. Strangely, it looks familiar, but when you can find a copy of Ideals in the wild for fifty cents, you buy it.
  • Beyond the High Hills: A Book of Eskimo Poems with photographs by Guy Mary-Rousselière. Eskimos probably have 300 poems for snow.
  • Murder Ink, a collection of essays by mystery authors including Robert B. Parker which is why I recognized it. It’s from the Better Books Section, so I paid a $1.50 for it. I might put this on the to-read shelves instead of the Robert B. Parker collection and, you know, think about reading it.
  • Finnish Proverbs translated by Inkeri Väänänen-Jensen. Probably similar to the Eskimo poems.
  • The Haw Lantern by Seamus Heany. Hardback and dustjacket. And no accent marks or umlauts in the Irish poet’s name.
  • Dressed Inside Out by Elizabeth Price. Signed by the author. And only $1.
  • Brighter Days to Come from the Salesian Collection. Since I’m apparently now a Salesian collector. This is a hardback with a dustjacket. So probably for high dollar contributors.
  • Perfidious Proverbs and Other Poems: A Satirical Look at the Bible by Philip Appleman. With an introduction by Dan Barker. If someone needs to explain it….
  • Bed Riddance: A Posy for the Indisposed by Ogden Nash. A paperback, unlike the other volumes of Nash I have. Well, most of them are the red hardcovers. The Old Dog Barks Backwards, which I read in January, is paperback. How quickly I forget.
  • Treasures of Truth by Reta Belle Lyle. Oh, yeah. With a name like that, I know what I’m getting. This is Number Four according to the title page.
  • So You Think You’re A Hipster? by Kara Simsek. A humor book of some sort. Voted most likely to be read first from this stack.
  • Only ‘Till Sundown, a chapbook by Will H. Havens from 1998.
  • Jes’ Dreamin’: An Anthology by Bud Rainey. Poems from 1958. They had vanity presses in 1958?
  • Mother Tried To Tell Me… And I Just Wouldn’t Listen, a Periwinkle Press gift book from 1982.
  • Kiss without Touching by Harriet Talbert.
  • Unsettled: A Tribute to Living Life on the Open Road by Rubie Dianne.
  • A stack of Columbia (University) Essays on Modern Writers from the 1960s. Individual critical essays on individual authors in paper covers. I have #1 Albert Camus, #10 E.M. Forster, #11 Alain Robbe-Grillet, #15 William Yeats, #17 Eugène Ionesco, #19 Franz Kafka, #20 Jean Genet, #21 Gerald Manley Hopkins, #34 Iris Murdoch, and #37 Luigi Pirandello.
  • Think Positive Thoughts Every Day edited by Patricia Wayant. Poems.
  • Two copies of (local) Drury University’s literary magazine Currents from 2022 and 2023.
  • Kenyon Review from Sept/Oct 2018.
  • Every Time I Find The Meaning Of Life, They Change It, an audiobook by Daniel Klein. I’ve read a couple of his pop philosophy books and liked them. Including, apparently, this one in 2017. Still, I’ll enjoy listening to it on the way somewhere this year.

The bundles also included another copy of Journey through Heartsongs by Mattie J.T. Stepanek, but as I read it in 2021 (and did not like it!), I’ve put it in a donation box already. Not even worthy of the free book cart at church.

I’ve definitely restocked my chapbook and quick read stack and have a couple of other magazines to put on my stack upstairs for when I’m winding down and want to read a couple of poems before bed.

AND: I want to point out that I spent a total of $32.50 for all of the things I bought, including the records, DVDs, books, and audiobook. And, I’m pleased to say that I did not overburden my storage for these things, although my previously viewed video library needs some attention. Sometime this summer.

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Good Album Hunting, Saturday, May 3, 2025: Friends of the Springfield-Greene County Library Book Sale

Yesterday morning, I drove my beautiful wife to the airport so she could jet away to speak at a conference. And the airport is practically at the Ozark Empire Fairgrounds (where the scale of Springfield means everything is “practically at” or nearby to everything else compared to actual large cities), and the Friends of the Springfield-Greene County Library was having their semi-annual book sale and it was bag day. Since it was on the way home (“on the way” meaning “not actually on the airport property”), my youngest son and I stopped.

I found some records.

More than four, actually:

  • Dylan Thomas Reading A Child’s Christmas in Wales and Five Poems. I was just thinking about the Edna St. Vincent Millay record I have here somewhere, and now I have Dylan Thomas as well. I also have Rod McKuen, no doubt, but probably not Robert Frost. Which would be a good score. It’s the only LP I got from the Better Books section, so I paid a buck for it. Discogs says it is worth two. As it has “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night” on it, I think it’s priceless.
  • Mancini Country which I probably already have, but it was four bits.
  • Baroque and Contemporary Concertos for Trumpet and Orchestra. Because I can always bring home more trumpet music.
  • Light-Airy and Swinging by George Shearing. A later record, as he looks older on the cover.
  • Italian Baroque Trumpet Concerti. I might already have it. As a matter of fact, my other copy might even be on the desk in the parlor where I’ve stacked recently played records. But at fifty cents, I’d be a fool not to.
  • Trumpet Concertos by Johann Wilhelm Hertel, Leopold Mozart, Johann Nepomuk Hummel. A Nonesuch record I surely do not already have.
  • I’m Yours by Dean Martin. I probably already have it, but I had to be sure.
  • The Dancing Sound by Les Elgart and His Orchestra.
  • Our Golden Favorites by The McGuire Sisters.
  • I’m a Dreamer by Gale Robbins. Pretty Woman on Cover (PWoC). Discogs classes it as Jazz/Pop listed at $4.
  • Let’s Dance with the Three Suns. Might already have it, but….
  • In a Sentimental Mood by Los Indios Trabajaras. I have one or more record by this artist. Maybe one or more copies of this platter.
  • Elgart Au Go-Go by Les & Larry Elgart. A lot of the Elgarts today. Less when I finished my pass.
  • Französische Blockflötenmusik, a collection of French recorder music.
  • Romeo and Juliet by Jackie Gleason and his orchestra.
  • The Baroque Trumpet. I have another collection by this name. Perhaps the same collection with a different cover. Perhaps not.
  • Verities and Balderdash by Harry Chapin Carpenter. I don’t generally buy 70s folkies, but I was with my son in one of the dwindling number of instances we’ll do this together (it might be the last–it might always be the last), so I was feeling all “The Cat’s in the Cradle”. Which is the lead cut on this record.
  • Baroque Flute Sonatas which is not as welcome, quite, as trumpet, but my beautiful wife also plays the flute and won a regional high school jazz award on it.
  • Polka Dots and Moonbeams by the Johnny Hamlin Quintet. Why? Because I was rolling.
  • Harry James and Tommy Dorsey’s Greatest Hits, a compilation album. “What does Harry James play?” I asked my son. “Here’s a hint: You don’t play it.” Which is true: After his freshman year, he stopped playing his horn after, what, five years?
  • Making Our Dreams Come True by Cyndi Grecco. PWoC. I’ve discovered (now) that it’s the theme from Laverne and Shirley.
  • Love in the Afternoon by the Three Suns. I don’t think I have it, but I might soon run out of new Three Suns records you can find easily in the wild.
  • That’s All by Vikki Carr. Spoiler alert: It was not, in fact, all.
  • Love is Blue by Claudine Longet, whom I’ve not really cottoned to. Maybe I should give her another chance.
  • Scottish Splendor: The Pipes and Drums and Regimental Band of the Black Watch.
  • Artie Shaw in the Blue Room in the Café Rouge.
  • Today’s Romantic Hits / For Lovers Only Volume 2 by Jackie Gleason. Probably already have it. But, apparently, I must HAVE THEM ALL.
  • Four Centuries of Music for the Harp. My youngest asked me if I had given up on learning the guitar and wanted to learn the harp. I responded that failing at six or four strings and moving onto more strings and having to wear a gown did not seem like a logical progression.
  • My Kind of Girl by Matt Monro. PWoC. Three times.
  • Big Band Hootenanny by Les and Larry Elgart.
  • I Suoi Success by Perry Como.
  • The Fabulous Victoria de Los Angeles. PWoC. But opera.
  • Warm and Tender by the Three Suns. Didn’t have it, I don’t think. I do now.
  • Latin Luboff by the Norman Luboff Choir. PWoC.
  • The Band with That Sound by Les Elgart.
  • The Best of Cugat by Xavier Cugat and his Orchestra. PWoC. And, it would seem, on the vocals.

That’s like 37 records or two-record sets, and it cost $18.50. You can’t beat that with a stick.

As we–well, I was flipping through the records, a college-aged young lady was joined by a friend, and she, the young lady flipping through the records, told her friend she was looking for jazz records.

Jumping Illinois Jones, she passed the Elgarts, the Cugat, the Shearing, the Jackie Gleason…. Was she hoping to find Miles Davis records for fifty cents? Dealers coming in on the preview night would have snapped that up. Half price day is about taking fliers on bands you’re not familiar with. Or about setting your taste to match what you can buy for a dollar or less (as I do).

I greeted my wife on her arrival in the conference city with the innocent question, “You know how we set the stereo on a set of record shelves? What if we did that with the sofa, too? Wouldn’t that be cool?”

It’s a wonder I’m still married. Which I presumably am, but this time might have gone too far.

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The Reverse Ankiel

Ex-Yankee Joey Gallo shows off video of first bullpen as he attempts to make comeback as pitcher

As a reminder, St. Louis Cardinal Rick Ankiel was a promising young pitcher who got wild but then went to the minor leagues and emerged an outfielder with some success in the majors. The linked Wikipedia entry compares him to Babe Ruth who was also a pitcher turned hitter, although the “records” they share are pretty precise in what they measured.

I don’t really know who this Joey Gallo is because he’s never played for the Cardinals, Packers, or Blues.

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Muad’Dib Goes Under The Wire

I mentioned last October that the kittens had learned how to open the sliding screen doors to our deck and to our patio.

Presumably, they learned this by practicing on the pocket doors in the master bathroom which they learned how to open early on.

So I got some locks that fold up to lock the screen doors and down to open the door, and we’ve (well, I’ve) been very careful to engage the lock when opening the sliding doors to let air flow in.

As the sliding door in the master bedroom is the only window, we’ve (well, I’ve) been in the habit of leaving the door open overnight for nice cool sleeping weather.

This morning at roughly 3:00, I heard a commotion at the back door. My beautiful wife had mentioned that an outdoor cat had peeked in the other night. We’d been remarkably free of visits from neighborhood cats over the winter–I’d said as much to her recently (hence, literally remarkable), undoubtedly drawing the wrath of the gods in the process. So at 3:00, when I heard that ruckus at the door, I got up and checked. There was, indeed, a cat outside the screen. A young black cat. Probably another spawn of Peirce, the long black cat who spent a few weeks lounging in our back yard when we had Athena in the back yard. One of our cats–Muad’Dib or Nico–was inside looking at him relatively quietly. I closed the sliding glass door so that nobody would try to get at him through the screen. I didn’t go out to meet the new cat–Cisco, Nico’s brother, is an absolute berserker when he sees cats outside and is prone to attack the indoor cats or the people in the house when his tail is fat. So I didn’t want to draw his attention to the interloper. And it was 3am, and I wanted to go back to bed.

In the mornings, I generally find Muad’Dib in the living room, and he will trill for a scratch before I’ve had coffee. But not today. I couldn’t find him, and in a dedicated search, I determined he’d pushed the bottom of the screen out of its splined track and crawled out:

He had several hours of head start, and he’s probably under cover as it’s been raining all morning, so I could not find him when I walked the edge of the wind break and by the woodpile and shed looking for him. I presume he will return later today, hopefully with no wounds or insects upon him.

But now I’m beside myself thinking I should have gone out the back door this morning to corral him while he was still on the deck.

And now that he knows how to push that spline out, I’ll have to wonder how I can account for that–a second screen on the inside of the doors? And will the kittens (now three years old, but still kittens to me) apply this knowledge to the screens in the windows as well? Or only the ones with ledges, such as in the office here?

Too much excitement for me.

UPDATE: A little before three this afternoon, Paul of the House Atreides came back to the door on the deck and meowed to be let in, no doubt disappointed that he could not simply let himself in with the gap under the screen door.

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Movie Report: Major League (1989)

Book coverAs I mentioned in February, I wanted to pick up a copy of this film when Bob Uecker died because I’d never seen it. Apparently, also, the St. Louis Blues hockey club have picked up a “mascot” named Jobu for their late season push and playoff run which was a voodoo idol from this movie as well. So I had two reasons to watch it, and I was happy to find a videocassette copy of it last weekend.

So: It’s a comedy that tracks kind of with the plot of Bull Durham, almost. The characters anyway. The wife of the man who owned the Cleveland Indians inherits the team when he dies, and she wants the team to move to Miami, so she sets the GM to build a roster from nobodies and has-beens. The veteran catcher, played by Tom Berenger, is a few years past his prime and has bad knees. Charlie Sheen plays a convict who joins the team as a fireball pitcher with control issues caused by poor eyesight. A Cuban power hitter, played by Dennis Haysbert (whom I knew was in the film but did not recognize), offers sacrifices to Jobu. A veteran pitcher relies on foreign substances to continue playing. Corbin Bernsen plays the shortstop whose thoughts are on his investments more than baseball. Wesley Snipes plays an outfielder who is fast but rough. Etc. Rene Russo is Berenger’s former flame in Cleveland, planning to marry a Yuppie (as they were known in those days). The team muddles along, improving, until the GM relates the scheme to the manager who tells the players, which inspires them to make a run for the pennant.

An amusing more than laugh-out-loud comedy. A bit of a product of its time, but not too dated. Worth watching, but I’m not rushing out for the sequels. And note that this is a Tom Berenger movie: his name comes first above the title. Man, he was something in the 1980s and maybe early 1990s, and although he’s been acting continually since, you mostly think this was a Charlie Sheen vehicle, ainna? Corbin Bernsen, the L.A. Law star, is the third on the poster. Not Wesley Snipes, who was not hitting his peak yet.

And, you know, I could have been in the movie. I was in town in the summer of 1988 when they filmed the stadium scenes at Milwaukee County Stadium (I thought it was true, and the scoreboard shots all show television station WTMJ 4 to confirm it). I know that people I knew then went to the stadium and stood in line to sit in the stands while scenes were filmed, but I did not. But I did keep looking in the crowd for people I might have known.

And just saying Milwaukee County Stadium reminds me that I have never been to a baseball stadium that exists today. I’ve been to ball games at Milwaukee County Stadium, but not Miller Park, and I’ve been to games at Busch Stadium (II) but not Busch Stadium (III). It has been a while, and they do change them every couple of decades these days.

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