this space intentionally left honk

Thank you burntcurtis for taking me out on an impromptu and very romantic man-date. We walked about at UCI, had a coffee at one of the last remaining Diedrich (!), bothered titmongler there, ate a good round-eye chinese meal, and finally went to the CVS so I could get opiates and milk.

And yeah, tight jeans are dumb, John.

And yeah, Michael McDonald does suck.

Stop now and put down your pencil. Do not get up or raise your hand. Wait until the proctor announces the end of the examination.

MEAT IS MURDER EVEN IF IT IS YOURS AND ALIVE.

If the Medical Establishment doesn’t get its ass in gear by about, oh, noon tomorrow and deal with my problem I am going to carry out the first completely left-handed mass murder in history. Currently I have had no useful help from my “primary” internal medicine physician, a physical therapy clinic, a neurologist, and a pharmacy. My best improvements have come from Home Science investigating my shoulder and what makes it feel better. I have, I think, successfully diagnosed a rotator cuff inflammation or tear. If they’d just fucking tell me whether it’s a tear or not I’d write them a check.

Last week the neurologist, who is currently “investigating” me and ordered the MRI, was out of town. No one told me this and I was leaving increasingly testy messages on his scheduler’s voicemail. She didn’t call me back. Finally I called the internal medicine office, because he’d said: If they don’t call back, don’t worry. The doctor is great but the office is a nightmare. Call me. Two minutes after that call, the schedule for the neurologist called me back. Why is this all being done Soviet style?

Currently I am self-medicating with alcohol. Yes, I know that’s stupid. Tomorrow I shall explain to any doctor who answers or returns my calls that I am sliding into Under the Volcano and I need either medically approved relief or a plan for fixing the problem: preferably necessarily both.

Otherwise I will show up wild-eyed and unshaven at the emergency room demanding some combination of opiates, steroids, acupuncture, inaccupuncture. sodomy, and surgery. I’ve had it! So, it’ll be fixed I’m sure.

Finally I’d like to say that I have only been reading back a screen or so a day of the LJ because after I’ve done work and blathered my own posts and had 8.9 margaritas and hugged the cat I still can’t do that much web browsing without flailing and moaning in pain. Yes, that’s self-pity. Yes, it’s for real.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: bodies are overrated.

The shoes.

I had a mission. It seemed simple. My task was to acquire and ship a pair of shoes to mendel.

Acquisition was easy; about five clicks of ecommerce.

Then I discovered that shipping a pair of shoes to a friend in Canada is… fraught. It’s not expensive. Nor is it physically difficult. However, the bureaucracy involved is nearly Slavic.

First I tried to do this via FedEx. They had a reasonably priced shipping option, and their website promised a step-by-step process for getting the customs declarations and shipping labels right.

The actual process resembled a “choose your own adventure” script in which failure might result in international arrest warrants for fraud, smuggling, failure to comply, cavalier attitude towards generally accepted procedures of international commerce, and yeggery. Deep in the middle of Adventure #3 I found myself faced with a screen in which I had to choose whether the shoes were “ornamental” in some way or “shoes, leather sole, fabric upper, pointed, ballet, en pointe, intended for legitimate artistic purposes.” I imagined a bad click resulting in poor mendel forced to pirouette on a pair of city walking boots under pain of permanent fugitive status on an Interpol warrant.

I gave up on FedEx. Their process “concluded” without any ability to schedule a pickup. Apparently I hadn’t finished, but there was no clue why.

The United States Postal Service was more promising. In fact, their procedure was honestly step-by-step, and the rates again very reasonable! I happily clicked through a few screens, entered my information, and was presented with a PDF which I printed. No joy. The PDF printed without addresses and strangely truncated. I had mistakenly clicked “okay!” and charged my credit card before I saw that the printout was very much not okay. Oh God! What to do now? Once you’ve printed out the damned thing you can’t do so again without doubling the charge, which then becomes less than reasonable.

Fortunately the EZ-Print-O-Matic system had dropped a turd on my desktop which turned out to be the PDF itself. I opened it with Adobe Reader instead of the Mac’s “Preview” program and it printed out just fine. Whew! I now had the five required copies of the label/customs declaration, prepaid postage, the package itself, and a false sense of confidence.

eyeteeth and I arrived at the post office today and found it nearly empty! no line, friendly staff. Hopes were high. Unfortunately, I had failed to throw out the first, bad printout of the label and had brought it with me instead of the second, good printout. The postal lady couldn’t do a thing with the first printout because it was so badly truncated that there wasn’t enough information for her to fill out a real one. She sadly told me I’d have to bring the real one or she couldn’t ship.

Ordinarily I would have cursed God and died, rushed home, found the proper paperwork, and gone back to the Post Office. But I had to feed the eyeteeth and myself, and had to get her to the airport. This was no time to admit defeat. Off we went to Cafe Zinc to eat well, and from there to the airport.

Problem: the mailing date on the forms was fixed at today. What will happen? Tomorrow I will try to contact “customer” “service” at the USPS and find out if I have completely failed and missed my “window” in which case I’ll start over. With luck this will be no problem. Then I will be able to mail the package.

As Art Spiegelman titled his story of Maus after the war, and now my troubles began. Or rather mendel‘s troubles. If or when I ship the package, will he receive it? Will the broker (Canadian for “bandito”) give him the shoes? Will the shoes arrive? Will they be approved by Canadian Customs, or rejected as somehow dangerous or economically rapacious or otherwise un-Canadian? Will mendel be forced to dance a sequence from Swan Lake for Mounties to avoid transportation to the Baffin Bay Correctional Work Institute?

You my readers will be the first to know. Pray for us.

And this just in…

From our “Christ, what an asshole” desk here’s the promo copy for 24K Entertainment, who are inexplicably arriving here in Costa Mesa.

This is what a club DJ sounds like when he gets big, big dreams. He sounds like J&H Productions:

Today, 24K emphasizes an energetic, upscale, social nightlife environment for people who enjoy lavish extravagance. With its marketing debut as a nightlife promotion, 24k offers décor and ambience touched with golden accents, elite dancers and a socially exclusive environment. The 24k nightclub is currently in negotiations to expand its nightlife marketing promotion into major metropolitan cities domestically and internationally in select established venues. This expansion will lead into the premiere of branded 24K product lines including bottled water, energy drink, liquor, monthly magazine, calendars TV & radio productions and a 24K sportswear line for men & women.

AND IN THE STADIUMS AND COLISEUMS PERTAINING TO THE LABEL INDUSTRY AND MAJOR PERFORMING ARTISTS SUCH AS

Something to do Thurs the 8th in the 909

Recommended for anyone stuck in the Inland Empire who likes loud clanking surf-industrial African-themed art damage music. From the Savage Republic mailing list. ALSO: They have an advance EP that you can buy right now on mobilization.com.

In lieu of rehearsing one more night, our friend Robin is allowing us to play a show in Montclair, CA. on Thursday night, February the 8th. NO COVER! Great beer on tap, and we promise to deliver a full set of favorites and new ditties! It will also be the first chance to pick up the Siam EP. Come join the fun! ALL AGES!!!!

Biacci’s
775 N. Central Avenue
Upland, CA 91786
909-946-0990

See you there!
SR