Street Fair

Anchorage street fair, as viewed from the ferris wheel:

View from the ferris wheel, Anchorage, Alaska; May, 1996.

Found Drawing: Awkward for the Public!

"Awkward for the public!"

Oh, Deer

When it's time to decorate for Christmas, I always think, "Deer!"

Since 2015, these deer, and more, have been a staple of my holiday festivities. They fit perfectly on top of a flat screen TV.

Christmas deer on the TV, 2015.

 

Batman Bob

Batman logo autographed by Batman creator, Bob Kane.

4th of July on the Roof

Fourth of July, 1989: on the roof in Columbia City, Indiana.
Nobody fell off!

At the time, I thought we were starting an annual tradition, but it lost steam after that very night.

4th of July on the roof.

Tribute to Nelda

Tribute to Nelda, from Albert.

Tribute to Nelda.

Cat Scan

Machete’s unintended self portrait after she fell asleep on the scanner. In the resulting image, you can discern a couple of paws at the bottom. Suitable for framing.

Machete on the scanner.

[ Originally posted on The Real World…Blogger Style! – August 25, 2007 ]

Overheard: 180 Days Sober

Two guys sitting in adjacent bathroom stalls talking shit about sobriety while, apparently, shitting:

Guy #1: "I drank myself into a coma. Woke up the next day, got a dog, and decided to be sober. Stayed that way for 180 days."

Guy #2: "That's it!"

Twits, 2007-2012

I never used Twitter much.  Here's my entire tweet history:

*Update 11/6/2022 - Finally deactivated the account this morning.

Pastey Whyte

Wall art, Melrose Ave., Los Angeles.

Pastey Whyte.

Cat Thanksgiving, 2006

In 2006, I was renting a cheap room in Santa Ana, where the property was overrun by a colony of feral cats, neglected by the community and left to fend for themselves on scraps and garbage. It was heartbreaking—many of them were sick, constantly re-infecting each other with colds and worse. They were painfully thin, doomed to short lives on the streets. We managed to rescue one of them, Tiggi, but didn’t have the means to help the others.

That Thanksgiving, after cooking a feast for just the two of us, we had more leftovers than we could possibly eat. So, after setting aside a few meals, we decided to share the rest with the cats. What started on the back porch quickly turned into a street party of sorts, as the cats, one by one, began dragging off their own personal servings of turkey and stuffing.

Cat Thanksgiving, 2006, was a true feast for the starving strays outside. I remember a light drizzle falling, with some of the cats already huddled on our porch for shelter. But as soon as the Thanksgiving dinner hit the air, they emerged—cats darted out from behind trees and dumpsters like they’d been waiting for the signal. When I moved the food closer to the dumpsters, twice as many hidden felines appeared, slinking out from the shadows to join the feast. It was as if they’d been lying in wait for their own secret holiday banquet.

Everyone ate their fill that night—except for one white cat I’d named Skeletor. He missed out on the feast, though I hoped he was getting fed somewhere else. I’ve never seen a turkey carcass picked so clean, so fast. Happy Thanksgiving!

Plastic Centaur Toy

This plastic centaur toy was a bargain at Dollar Tree.

He married a Pretty Pony in 2005.

Plastic Centaur. 

On the Frank Farm: Secret Features

One of the old, unused sheds on the Frank Farm is the home of a peculiar masterpiece, a tree that has slowly been growing through a chair over the years, as if time itself has been politely waiting for nature to finish its work.

Secret Feature @ the Frank Farm.

Making Money: Venice Beach, pt. 2

Guy walking on broken glass for money at Venice Beach.

Glass Walker.

Library Interaction: "16 & 18 Year Old Kids"

Man (frustrated): "The problem with everything these days is that media companies are only hiring 16 and 18-year-old kids to decide what counts as news and what gets made into TV shows and movies!"

Me: "What do you mean by '16 and 18-year-old kids'?"

Man: "Anyone under 50."

Me: "!"

Making Money: Venice Beach, pt. 1

Guy juggling knives for money at Venice Beach.

A selection of knives.

Catch!

Balancing & Juggling.

Rock On

Message inscribed in cement, I forget where.

Rock on, rockers.

"Rock and Roll will never die."

Stef Milanovic, age. 24

The Mutter Museum in Pennsylvania needed to raise funds to preserve the Hyrtl Skull Exhibit, a collection of skulls that was used to debunk the pseudoscience of phrenology.  I did my part by sponsoring the 150 year old skull of Stef Milanovic, age. 24.

Jon Sr.'s Piranha Log

In the early 2000s, my father, Jon Sr., was living in Alaska and decided to keep a tank of piranhas. He named them all “Killer” and regularly posted updates about them on our family website, Gilliomville. What follows is a kind of Piranha Chronicles—a compilation of all the piranha-related posts from Gilliomville’s message board:

I now have 5 piranhas in my 75 gallon aquarium. They are about one and a half inches long and, for the next month, will eat flake food. I did put a little guppy in with them and they chased him around, nipping at him. I haven't seen the guppy for a couple days. I guess maybe he was ganged-up on during the night.

Do piranhas snap into Slim Jims?

Ross, My alpha piranha eats even when he is not hungry. He just eats because he wants to remain the lead dog where the scenery always changes. I predict that within six months, he will be able to jerk a slim jim from one’s hand.

Fish tank report!! Piranhas all 5 are doing fine. I put three catfish in with them last week-end. The fish store person said the catfish were a fast growing type. She said that since the piranhas were small, that maybe the catfish could get some growth and possibly be tank mates. Situation looking pretty grave--one catfish appears alive and doing well, one catfish dead and one catfish missing.

Tank update!!! Two catfish dead and third still missing, which at this time is presumed to be dead. Killer is primary suspect, as the stalker. He did not come out to eat this A.M. He later made an appearance and seemed fine and probably full from his dark hours of evil doing. I will go to the fish store this week-end for ideas on possibilities for bottom cleaning. The catfish ended up adding to the waste problem. Maybe a turtle or snail is a possibility. Maybe a huge catfish. More updates as events evolve.

Tank update!! The remainder of the third and missing catfish has been recovered. It is fortunate, that he was the third and missing because the remains otherwise would not have been identifiable. I must get to the fish store!!

I think you should set up a Web cam on that tank. The pictures could be used as evidence against Killer.

Piranha tank update!! I talked with Josh, the manager of House of Critters, and explained my dilemma of no bottom feeder. I asked him about turtles and snails. He said that they would probably mess with anything they knew was alive. He said a snail might work if the piranhas thought it was a rock, but if they figured out it was not, they would probably mess with it. He said a sail is uni-sex and could stand a chance of overpopulating my tank. He suggested an electric catfish about three inches long for $29.95. He said the piranhas would mess with it only once. Josh said, the electric catfish stalks a small feeder goldfish within about two inches and then stops and lets out an electrical charge. The feeder fish is said to start floating to the top after receiving the charge and then is devoured by the catfish. It sounds like some high drama stuff for $29.95.

Electric catfish! Yeah, get one. For thirty bucks, I hope Josh knows what he's talking about. Will the piranha be safe from the catfish? It's turning into some kind of House of Eerie, all these villainous fish, like monsters.

Yesterday I found two feeder goldfish on my carpet. The fish were like two and three feet from the piranha tank. I think they did hari cari to get away from Killer.

My piranhas are growing so fast. I am afraid to put my hand in the tank. I think I am going to do like George Foreman, when he named his boys. He named them all George. They were George 1, George 2, George 3, etc. I am going to name my piranhas, Killer 1, Killer 2, Killer 3, Killer 4, and the last one I named Runt.

Man, I can't believe these killer fish!! When I feed them floating food, they splash water all over the top of the aquarium and sometimes on the floor.

When this box of food is gone I think I am not going to buy any more floating food. The one feeder fish of twenty five is still alive. He swims right around with the killers and Runt. I think they have adopted him. Maybe I'll let them get real hungry and see if they still like him.

Driving Stick

1.) Text from an email sent to brother Todd on May 31, 2000, containing a detailed description of my first experience driving a manual transmission. I was working in a factory at that time and the foreman offered me a forklift job if I went through forklift training over the weekend:

I went to forklift training this weekend and all they had was a stick shift, which I had no idea how to drive. It was pretty bad and the instructor was pretty cranky. I about ran the forklift through his wall and I kept laughing whenever I screwed something up, which was making the guy get madder and madder. In all my preoccupation over how to use the clutch without killing the machine, I kept forgetting the basic forklift safety video he'd just showed us. Looking behind you before going in reverse is very important, of course, because you could run into somebody; but it was far from my mind while I was learning how to drive a stick for the first time (in front of an audience no less).

Whenever I'd back up without looking, he'd yell, "You just killed somebody!!" and then I'd laugh really hard because he was so high strung. I was trying to concentrate on not letting the machine die and safety stuff was secondary to me. I also didn't tell him I didn't know how to drive a stick in the first place, so he thought I was just a real fuck-up.

He kept saying, "OK, I should tear up your license right now, but if you can move that crate and put it up on that shelf without fucking anything up, I'll let you have your license".

I'd say, "Alright" then take a deep breath thinking about how to work the forks and keep from killing the machine. I'd get oriented and start backing up, then he'd go "YOU JUST KILLED SIX PEOPLE!!!"

Then I'd laugh really hard and say, "I didn't mean to!"

I finally told him I’d never driven a stick before and he said, "oh, well, you should learn."
One other guy left before his test because he'd never driven a stick before either. After watching me and the instructor for awhile, he just snuck out the door and disappeared.

Anyway, there's a happy ending. The instructor told me I'd not get my license and to come back next week for more training (I was thinking, "Damn. So much for getting that forklift job then"). He took me into his office where he was really cool (I guess he was just acting like a hardass in front of the group). His associate said this sort of thing happens all the time and not to worry about it. The instructor told his associate to put my license on the bulletin board until next week when I would return to earn it, then he went out for the next class.

When he left, the associate said, "Don't worry about it", signed the license and then looked at the bulletin board and said, "There's so much stuff up there. I don't think we'd be able to find your license. It might get lost...I wonder where I could put it so it wouldn't get lost...{wink wink}...Here, I'll give it to you to hold on to and then you bring it back with you next week...{wink wink}...
I thanked him then left immediately...What a cool guy!

When I returned to the factory on Monday, I was SO NERVOUS about driving the forklift on the job. Then I found out it was a automatic, so I'm fine...whew!

2.) That little bit of stick shift experience came in handy about a year and a half later. I was working at a gas station and taking the bus because my car had broken down. The owner of the station had a side hustle flipping old vehicles—he’d buy them cheap, fix them up, and sell them off. One day, he showed up out of nowhere in an old pickup he was trying to move and offered to drive me to work.

On the way, he told me I could hang onto the truck and use it to get to and from work until he found a buyer. That was just the kind of guy he was. He didn’t pay much, but if you showed a little competence, he looked out for you.

Right after I thanked him, I realized the truck was a stick. Aside from that one rough self-taught session and a forklift incident I’d rather forget, I had zero real experience. I figured if I said anything, he might change his mind, so I just nodded and kept quiet.

When we pulled into the station, it was busy—people pumping gas, going in and out of the store, just generally being around. Re-learning how to drive stick in front of all that was not something I was eager to do. So, thinking ahead, I asked him to park behind the station where it was out of sight. I said I wanted to check the fluids, which sounded reasonable enough.

That spot behind the station is where I ended up teaching myself to drive stick. The car lurched, stalled, and died repeatedly. Once I got to the point where I could get it moving without killing it, I pulled out onto a side street—somewhere no one would know me—and kept practicing. I was completely soaked in nervous sweat. If anyone at the station had seen what was going on back there, there’s a good chance they wouldn’t have let me leave with the car.