Speaking of comics, I find myself curiously attracted to the history of different comic strips.  Especially the long-running ones, like Blondie, Charlie Brown, Beetle Bailey, and the like. 

     I would love it if there was a place that showed the original, first published strip of these comics.  I think it would be nifty to see how much they’ve changed over the years.  Blondie is a really good example of this since it’s been running since the 1930’s.

     Perhaps other people don’t share my curiosity about these things, though.

     For anyone who’s curious, my other “comfort comic” is Bloom County.  Normally when something I like is discontinued I feel disappointed, but when Berke Breathed retired Bloom County I actually felt hurt. 

     I’ve been at work for almost two hours now.  I’ve gotten everything prepped, new software has been downloaded and is now installing.  My laptop is pissing me off because it keeps pausing and stopping every few minutes.  I’ve turned off everything that’s running in the background, all the groovy things that I use in my day-to-day operations, and it still keeps doing it.

     Usually during this time I’d be checking the news sites and stuff.  Keeping up on what’s going on in the industry.  Seeing what kind of new disasters are striking the world.  Aside from a tropical storm off the coast of Texas, I’m not aware of much.  I don’t actually like reading the news because it’s depressing.

     Time to stalk the vending machines and see if I can’t hunt down something to eat.

     An Apple Strudel Pop-Tart.  Yum.

     I have opted not to eat lunch today.  Not a normal lunch, anyway.  Instead, I will be trying to whittle down this four pound bucket of Red Vines.

     Eating a bucket of Red Vines is not a good idea, no matter how hungry you are.  Moderation is the key.

     Part of my job is doing a little bit of web surfing here and there, to make sure everything is working correctly.  Usually I do a round of established sites that I normally visit.  Sometimes I get creative.

     Today I thought it would be amusing to read some articles about candy bars on Wikipedia.  Chocolate bars led to the York Peppermint Patty, and that led to Peppermint Patty from the Charlie Brown comic strip.

     While I could read and write well enough when I was a young child, I never really exercised the skills.  While my older sister was reading through books like a wiz, I would spend my time reading comics.  Not comic books, like Spiderman, but comics like B.C., Wizard of Id and, most importantly, Charlie Brown.

     I collected Charlie Brown paperbacks.  I knew what I had, what I had read, and could even tell you which book a strip came from if I were shown it.  I would also choose the books carefully because the paperbacks were collections from other, larger, books that I had never seen.  I would try and pick books that didn’t come from a larger work that I already had books from.  I was a Charlie Brown paperback expert.

     This annoyed my dad to no end, because he thought I should be reading real books.  My older sister would snort derisively at my choices, as we left the bookstore, clutching the newest Anne McCaffery or Alan Dean Foster novel.

     As I got older and the strip grew older I came to like it less, noting more of a religious flavor in the strip.  And, like any kid, I didn’t think it was “cool” to like it very much.  But even now, if I’m not feeling well, I would like to just curl up in bed and read Charlie Brown strips all day long.  Sadly, it’s nothing I can do now because I no longer have all of my books.

     It’s unfair, though, to look down at this.  I’m mostly happy with the person I am today and I couldn’t say with confidence that I would be this person if I had not read so many Charlie Brown strips.

     It was in those strips that I got an introduction to philosophy, religion, manners (specifically, other characters made Charlie Brown feel like crap – why would I want to make people feel that way?), the meaning of different holidays, that people should open their hearts more to kids who may be less privileged.

     At a young age I knew what depression was, because C.B. would often say he was depressed.  This, in turn, helped me deal with depression as a child because I knew what it was and could find a way to deal with it. 

     Charlie Brown, and the rest of the gang, helped me get through life.  Not in a drastic, dramatic way but in a long, slow, helping period.  It’s when I read the old strips and remember things that were going on when I read them previously that I remember just how it was that they were helpful.

     Of course, I picked up a few negative qualities also, I’m sure.  A lack of confidence here and there, although that could be attributed to other circumstances as well.  But maybe, if Charlie Brown had been a bit more assertive, I’d be a bit more assertive, too.  We’ll never know.

     Either way, Charlie Brown has made an on-going impact on my life, and I don’t know that I would want to give that up.

     I’m back from my vacation.  It wasn’t actually a vacation, just a couple of days off.  It seems like I’ve been gone for ages, though. 

     Now I’m ready to get back into the swing of writing things.  A bonus for all you lucky people!

     Unfortunately, today isn’t the day for that because I can’t think of crap to write about.  Just the usual nonsense that I sputter on about.  Just more random crap.

     I did some checking and the Dr Pepper/Indiana Jones contest doesn’t end until 8/31/2008.  You all still have a little more than a month to drink tons of DP’s and hope you win something better than a screen saver and desktop wall paper.  I’m really disappointed because I should have a bunch of free Dr Peppers by now.

     I did get to see Wall-E and Hancock, though.  It’s a lot cheaper to go to the movies when you don’t have a gaggle of kids with you.

     Wall-E is good, Hancock is okay.  I could’ve waited for it to come on video before seeing it, but I don’t feel terrible about seeing it.  It wasn’t bad at all, really.

     So what’d you all do over the weekend?

     In my last post I mentioned that I liked seeing old TV shows because of the differences in how life was lived.  Even if it doesn’t seem like it was that long ago, there’s a whole host of differences in how we live our lives.

     The same is true for old movies.  I’ll watch a really old movie just to see how things are so different.  Like, if you watch a movie from before the 1960’s, almost every guy is wearing a hat.  Or seeing a movie that has a man delivering ice.  Or milk.  Having four kids, milk delivery would be an awesome thing to have if the price were right.

     There are times wouldn’t I wouldn’t mind having ice delivered, either.  Especially when the ice maker on the fridge is busted.

     Anyway, I can watch a movie or TV show and enjoy myself without even having to pay attention to the plot or anything.  The only downside is that movies and TV aren’t the best place to find historical accuracies. 

     The good news is that I got my car working again.  The bad news is, thanks to computers, it could have been fixed last week.  All that was really wrong was that it needed a new battery.  However, changing the battery can screw up the on-board computer causing it to go into a “limp home” mode.  What this does is make it so you can’t use the gas pedal.  It just doesn’t work.  You have to drive around at idle.

     However, if you leave the car sitting around for two hours or so then the computer either resets itself or gathers enough data to get it back into the swing of the things.

     So, in theory, I have a working car again.  I just don’t know how much I can trust it.

     I haven’t gotten a winning Dr Pepper in a while.  I think I know why.  I think someone’s been counting my trips to the Dr Pepper machine.  After I go there five times, I think this person goes to the machine and takes the sixth, winning, Dr Pepper.

     I need to stake out the machine after I buy five and catch the bastard stealing my winning caps.

     Watching old TV shows is kind of like a hobby to me.  Last night I watched the pilot episode of a show called “Due South.”  It’s about a Canadian Mountie who’s father is killed.  This Mountie then goes to Chicago to find out who killed him and why.  It’s a good show, and I enjoyed it when it was on TV in the 1990’s. 

     It’s amazing to see how different things are now.  In this pilot episodes a guy actually goes to use a payphone.  Can you believe that?  In a phone booth.  Wow.

     I watched the trailer for “Max Payne” yesterday.  As far as video game to movie conversions go, it looks pretty good.  It’s got Mark Wahlberg in it, too, and he looks like the perfect choice for Max.

     Movies made from video games have a spotty record.  Really big black spots.  They rarely turn out good and, if they do, they usually don’t have much in common with the game other than the name.

     “Tomb Raider” wasn’t horribly awful.  It had some pretty major plot holes but many people didn’t seem to notice.  They were too busy being blinded by Angelina Jolie’s enhanced boobs. 

     I hear there’s rumors of a Pac-Man movie.  Only God knows how they plan on doing that.

     The news stories are hitting the web: food manufacturer’s are giving you the same size package for the same price but putting less product in the package.  So that 24oz box of Cheerios you’ve been buying for years?  Take another look at it and you may find that you’re holding 20oz of cereal now.

     Many people are crying foul over this saying that the big corporations are trying to trick you, to fool you, making you think you’re buying the same amount of produce that you’ve been buying, but actually shorting you.

     They’re not trying to trick you.  They’re trying to help you.  We are an obese country and the only way you’re going to shed those pounds is by eating less.  What better way to help you lose weight than to make you think you’re eating the same while shaving off a portion or two? 

     You should be thanking them, not cursing them.  You’ve only got a little while left to try and fit into that speedo or thong, so you better get on it.

     All gasoline and diesel cars and trucks have been outlawed and taken off the road.  Everyone now drives an electric car.  At 5:00pm everyone hums home after work.  Each day millions of people come home and plug in their cars.  Then what?  Blackout?  Brownouts?  What?

     I’ve lived my life being told that animals don’t think or have feelings.  They work completely off instinct.  Having grown up that way I firmly believe that line of thinking is utter bullshit.

     Last night I had Zoey (who, it turns out, is a Timneh) on my arm and I wanted to get her onto her cage.  She’s got a large perch on top of her cage.  Zoey, by the way, hates not being on me and will resist any time I try and get her to step down.  Unless she’s hungry or thirsty or tired.

     So I held my arm out so she was behind her perch.  I held my arm so that for her to move closer to me, she would have to step up onto her perch and then I could get my arm away before she could get back on it.  It was a good plan.

     Or it would have been a good plan had Zoey cooperated.  What she did was stand on my wrist and look around to see if she could get back to my shoulder without losing contact with my arm.  She would try and go a certain route, but once she realized that both her feet would be off my arm, she would stop and back up.  She did that several times.

     Finally, she used her beak to grab onto the very edge of the perch and edged her body around it.  This was a route she had thought about a few times but didn’t go through with.  Probably because of the angle her body would have to be at.  But she finally realized that she had no other way of getting to my shoulder without leaving my arm entirely.  To me, that shows quite a bit of problem solving and analytical skill.

     And anyone that says animals don’t have feelings never had a parrot sit with her back to them saying, “Peek-a-boo” in a very soft, sad voice.

     The kids have been dropped off to camp.  Sadly, the SUV died sometime while we were gone.  That makes life just a little bit more difficult.  So now I have to rent a Volkswagon Jetta to get around. 

     Actually, it’s not a bad car.  It’s no Viper, but it does move when you want it to move. 

     Since I have a camera, we decided (on the way back from Denton) to take a boatload of pictures of the racetrack.  I didn’t have any real reason for doing so, but it seemed like a good idea.

     It was nearly deserted there.  I guess that’s not a big surprise when there’s no race going on.

     But now I can say that I was there.  Ha!

     Anyway, if I can get things working right, there’ll be more pictures at the GoE-Gallery.

I’m the type of person who doesn’t like to test drive cars for the fun of it.  It’s not that I don’t enjoy it, I do.  I worry that I’ll enjoy it so much that I’ll want whatever it is I’m driving. If it’s something that I wouldn’t be able to get then I’ll feel miserable about.

So, when my brother-in-law came by and held out his hand, dangling the keys to his Dodge Viper, and said, “You wanna take her for a spin?” I was as surprised as anyone when I grabbed the keys and yelled back, “Sure! Thanks! Bye!”

Getting into the Viper proved to be a bit difficult.  For one thing,

the seat doesn’t go back very far.  Another is that the door sill is kind of wide and the seats are well bolstered.  Finally, I have gigantic feet and getting them into any car can be a hassle.  Oddly enough, the Viper has manual seat controls but the pedals are electrically adjustable. 

One of my fears about driving the Viper would be that I’d give it too much gas.  Like, when reversing down the driveway.  I had a mental image of barely touching the petal and having loads of smoke appear while I did a kind of bootlegger turn onto the street.  Luckily, it’s quite easy to drive.  Just give it a little gas and let up on the clutch and it was happy as anything just to get moving.

Getting it out onto the open road was an experience.  When I say “open,” of course, I mean on the highway where all the traffic lights are.  People crane to look at you while you’re stuck next to them waiting for the light to turn green.  In traffic.  But if you’re lucky enough to get some clear space, boy, this baby can move.  You feel yourself pushed back into the seat. 

What I found amazing was how easy it was to drive.  It was ready to move when you were, but in traffic it was kind and gentle.  I found the seats to be really comfortable, but then I like sports cars more than I like luxury vehicles.  I didn’t mind the cramped space or

the ride (which wasn’t all that harsh).  Shifting was easy.  The only real problem I had was because of my gigantic feet.  I kept goosing the gas while my foot was on the brake at the light.  This wasn’t a problem while I was driving, though.

I’m sure could handle corners like a slot car on rails. I didn’t get a chance to try that out, though.  I was kind of forbidden to get wild on the few corners I encountered.  Making regular turns, though, was like riding with Automan – flat. 

I only drove it for about 45 minutes, but there wasn’t a whole I didn’t like about it.  The wind noise wasn’t bad even when you’re at

speed (again, I like sports cars).  You could hear the stereo.  You could even here my scream of pain when I rested my wrist on the metal ring around the gear shift.  That sucker gets hot when it’s out in the sun.

The funny thing about doing something that you find fun and exciting is that it’s the only thing on your mind for hours to come.  It sort of impedes on conversations, though.

Checkout Girl:  Did you find everything you were loo-
Me: I drove a Viper today!
Checkout Girl: Uh…
Me: A real one!  Not a video game one!
Checkout Girl: Well… Isn’t that special for you?
Me: Yeah!  A Viper!

Surely, it was a wonderful present for the Fourth of July. 

I like Oreo cookies.  I know they’re not the original (that would be the Hydrox even though it sounds like an industrial cleaner) but I like them just the same.

Now the taste of the Oreo cookie comes to you in the guise of a

cake.  It’s kind of like a Hostess cupcake but without the top icing, and with the creme filling visible. Okay, two cupcake-like things sandwiching the creme.  The same kind of creme you get in a Twinkie or cupcake, not the kind you get in an Oreo cookie.

And that, my friends, is the Oreo Cakester.

They come in two flavors: regular and chocolate creme.  They both taste kind of the same, though.  Which is okay, because they taste pretty good.  They’re not dry at all, so they go down nicely.  They’d probably taste better with a glass of milk.  Even a plastic of milk.

My biggest issue, though, is that the tops don’t have the Oreo name and design stamped on them.  I think that’s a horrible oversight and should be remedied.