That’s where I got the title for today’s blog post. Yeah, I know I spelled angel wrong. I’ll get to that later. But this is not really a music post, and it has nothing to do with Prine, Raitt, or that song. However, I felt I needed to post something positive and beautiful before foisting this picture upon you on Arrestmas Eve.
I came later in life to an appreciation of Beck as a musical artist. I think it was his 2017 album Colors that really got me on the Beck train. It’s such a fun, vibrant pop album for adults. He dialed back the pop just a bit for Hyperspace in 2019, and then went somewhat quiet. He has put out one single a year since then, and “Thinking About You” is 2023’s absolute gem of a single.
I love the stripped-down arrangement using an acoustic guitar to lead us on a gentle journey through this beautiful song. And the lyrics? How about these to start the song?
I’m sure you all fondly remember such harmeless social media challenges as planking, eating Tide pods, dumping buckets of ice over your head, and bleach enemas. Oh, wait. That last one wasn’t a social media challenge but Trump’s suggestion to kill COVID. Disregard that one.
But I have stumbled upon what I think will be the next viral challenge. I’m determined to clean out our freezer, and what better way to do that than to eat my way through all the frozen food? I’m certainly not going to throw out perfectly good, ice-encrusted expired food. While that may be prudent, it is also wasteful.
I found 3 bags of these in the freezer.
Wow, no antibiotics, EVER! That’s great. So, I guess they didn’t slaughter chickens that were under doctor’s care trying to recover from sinus infections. Good to know. I normally don’t eat poultry or red meat, but to save a buck, I find I can set aside my morals with uncomfortable ease when there’s food about to be wasted.
There were 2 patties in each of the 3 bags in the freezer, enough for 1 meal per bag. I dove right in. I used my mountain climbing pickaxe to free the patties from their icy shrouds. After 3 days, the bags were empty and patties devoured. I was soon to be a bit empty myself. Take a look at the expiration dates on each bag.
I haven’t written much other than this blog recently. Personal and professional issues keep getting in the way. And an election is coming up. I was grateful when a writing buddy emailed me a link to a short story writing contest. No, I don’t think I’ll win.
Editor’s Note: Ugh, he’s feigning modesty again. This egotistical dummy is 100% certain he’ll win. You can be sure when he loses and the contest judges burn his entry in disgust, he’ll feign shock and surprise.
Anyhoo, I do have an idea for a short story. And the contest is 5 bucks to enter. Cheap, like me!
It involves writing to an artistic prompt, specifically this painting.
Nobody is exempt from the ravages of time and aging … except maybe for QB Tom Brady. Nobody can cheat death … except maybe for Rolling Stone Keith Richards. I am no exception. As I age, I am finding that even my wrinkles have wrinkles. I get it. We get old. We get gross.
I accept that fact as I go concerting, seeing a mix of new and old acts. The old acts show some mileage and tread wear. That’s right, they look tired. See what I did there? I used some tire analogies and then the word tired?
Editor’s Note: He thinks he’s so clever. He’s not. Those “clever” tire references are nothing more than retread puns. See what I did there?
Anyhoo, Iggy Pop came to town this weekend. I would have liked to see one of the pioneers of punk, but he played the Salt Shed, a new music venue with no seating unless one wants to pay a lot more. I don’t. It’s probably for the best.
If I ever walk around the house without a shirt, my youngest daughter will cry out in despair, “Put a shirt on!” Now I know why. Here’s 75-year old shirtless Iggy on stage at the Salt Shed.
It’s March, so it was time to march today in our town’s St. Patrick’s Day parade. I was supposed to ride in the back of a snowplow with other St. Charles Township elected officials, but with snow in the forecast, the township canceled so that all snowplows would be ready for snow removal. That’s actually very responsible but no fun. Instead, I marched with fellow Kane County and St. Charles Township Democrats.
The group of Democrats marching has grown quite a bit over the years. This year we had 2 US House representatives, an Illinois House representative, various Kane County elected officials and board membes, and me as the sole elected township official. In addition, we had Democrat candidates for our upcoming municipal election in April and many other local Dems. We’re kind of a big deal now.
Can you see me in the back holding the “Be The Change! Vote Democrat” sign? Barely, right? Why did I get stuck in the back? Well, I am tall, and I also looked ridiculous. See for yourself …
I hope all my children have a “glass half full” attitude as they go through life. My middle daughter displayed her positive attitude today when she declared, “Good thing your car seats are black.” That was after she spilled a glass half full of coffee on my passenger car seat. I am perfectly capable of grasping the concept of a “glass half full” attitude. I would prefer in the future that my kids don’t literally use “glass half full” visual aids to make their points.
I got a chuckle when I stumbled across this March calendar schedule on Twitter.
Cute. But losing an hour sleep this coming weekend is a real problem for some people. It is undeniable that losing an hour of sleep (or Netflix streaming time for you insomniacs) is unpleasant and upsets our circadian rhythms (good name for a band) quite a bit. Fortunately, I have a solution that should make the transition to Daylight Savings Time easy. Here’s my simple 61 step plan to ease into Daylight Savings Time.
Step 1: Start Daylight Savings Time on March 1st.
Step 2: Set the clocks ahead by 1 minute on March 1st.
Steps 3 through 61: Repeat Step 2 for 59 consecutive days following March 1st.
I like the arts, but I’m definitely no patron of the arts. More of a patron of the farts than anything. Claude Monet is my favorite artist, but when it comes right down to it, I may not be able to tell a Monet from a Manet from “Mony Mony.” However, I found myself at an art exhibit Friday night where a neighbor had a painting exhibited. That’s me on the right looking almost lifelike.
Besides my neighbor’s painting, there were other works of art I also liked. Here’s one I think I remember seeing in the movie Beetlejuice.
Anyway, I’m gearing up for our local municipal elections in April in which our gaggle of St. Charles Township Democrats are supporting the campaigns of local moderate to progressive candidates for school board, library board, park board, etc. There is a hard right wing extremist group calling themselves Awake Illinois that also has candidates vying for seats. They are well known for their anti-mask, anti-vaxx platform and for crashing school board meetings and the public library without masks when masks were required.
They have other wacky ideas and are in general opposed to what they call “woke” culture. That’s where my confusion comes in. Can’t we consider them woke if they are part of Awake Illinois? Should they perhaps have chosen Asleep Illinois as their group name rather than a name suggesting they have been woke?
Editor’s Note: Why not sleep on it? Your readers are already.
It happens to me twice a year. When the weather turns cold, I gain weight. When the weather warms up, I gain weight. I’m not quite sure why it works that way, but I am sure that it is damn annoying. It’s especially hard to accept in the spring after I have been doing this all winter with slices of pizza.
Springish weather has arrived early in Chicagoland this year (thank God), so I’m trying to get a jump on that weight gain as the seasons change. I don’t ever remember cycling in February before, but I made it out 4 times on my bike last month on my way to a planned 500 miles this season. How far did I get?
I stumbled across this product picture on Twitter. I guessed it must be a very old gag gift, and a little Googling confirmed that. Funny.
What I am surprised about is that the Trump Grift Shop at Mar-a-Lago is not selling these under the Trump brand name to the MAGA ghouls who’ll buy up anything with the Trump name on it. But that’s just my opinion which is not watered down. Let’s all robustly drink to that.
I had two very important tasks this week. I was interested in scoring Sprinsteen tickets for a summer concert in Wrigley Field, and I also needed to grab a ticket for my youngest daughter for Babysitter Training. No, that’s not a cool, hip band, although not a bad name for one. It’s actual training to be a babysitter offered through our public library, and it is a difficult ticket to land. Seats go fast when registration opens. I was on the library’s website ready to reserve a ticket until it asked me to login using my daughter’s library card number (no problem) and pin or password. Uh … that was a stumper. So, I grabbed the phone to call and register. I watched the available spots reduce in number online as the slowest moving librarian in history registered my daughter. No, I wasn’t too nervous.
But I was successful with a few spots to spare. I wonder how strong the reseller market is for a spot. Perhaps I can cash in. That would further justify my kids getting me this shirt last Father’s Day.
After making my screen debut in 2022 and positively sizzling on the silver screen in such movie roles as bar patron, funeral mourner, and HS social studies teacher, there is no doubt that Hollywood has taken notice of my considerable acting skills and ability to eat an excessive share of the free refreshments set out for the actors and extras. It’s true that I have not yet received a nomination for an Oscar, Golden Globe, or even a People’s Choice Award, as if I would even accept a nomination for that last one. However, I know Hollywood has their eyes on me. How do I know? I received this invitation the other day.
We have a couple of local pizza spots we prefer. One of those spots gave me bad service two pick-ups in a row. My kids would say I overreacted, which is why they will never come with me to get the pizzas. Yes, they did taste just fine, but we can all agree that they were not as ordered when I picked them up. Of course, I complained. I complain about things that are just fine, so I was not going to miss the opportunity to gripe about something that wasn’t correct. The pizza joint told me they would send me a coupon for a free pizza. Great! I am easily placated by shiny or tasty things.
A week goes by. No coupon. Another week. No coupon. Never one to miss an opportunity to complain, I did. The pizza pushers had no explanation. They promised to resend the coupon. Fine. I was resigned to never receiving a coupon. But then it showed up. It was dated a couple weeks prior. Was the delay in receipt perhaps the postal service’s fault? They never make mistakes, right?
And then the second coupon arrived a couple days later.
We used one coupon for a free pizza, and they got the order correct. I decided that the right thing to do was to return the second coupon. And so I did. I returned to the pizza place and handed the kid behind the counter the second coupon … when I picked-up our second FREE pizza. Am I a bad guy?
Editor’s Note: Look, I’m never one to defend Jim. He’s a jerk, but he did purchase something else along with each free pizza. Anytime he opens his wallet to pay for anything, it is an event worth noting.
In a recent blog post, I clarified that I make no attempt to promote this blog, and in fact, discourage followers. Think of it this way … if no one follows this blog, there will mercifully be no more Mite Be Funny cartoons.
I was in the minority when Italian rock band Måneskin set the world on fire a year ago with their cover of the Four Seasons song “Beggin.” For me, hearing that song come on the radio or stream meant an immediate channel change or song skip. I hated that immensely popular song and the group’s overall sound. But now I feel vindicated.