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Weak II

9 January 2024

No. 7,570 (cartoon)

You act like a Mongolian rutabaga herder without a yak.

Your perverse obsession with yaks is vile.

Not unless you include the rutabagas.

10 January 2024

Pitchers and Catchers

Penelope uploaded her new song to an Internet site that almost six hundred million people a month visit. And then there’s the other number big number: people add an average of hundred and twenty thousand new recordings every day.

My friend Joe Folberg was a gallery owner who died before the Internet became A Thing, but his observation on getting recognized remains true; “There are more pitchers than catchers.” And he wasn’t talking baseball.

11 January 2024

Brewda-toofah

After using my noise-canceling headphones, Gareth asked me why the aural instructions he heard were in Japanese.

I was shocked by his ignorance; how could he not know one of the basics of modern life?

An electronic device works much better in its native language. My digital Leicas produced superior results after I changed the menu system to German. Similarly, my headphones had a better frequency range and signal-to-noise ratio when I switched the language to Japanese.

They’re also more entertaining. Instead of hearing, “Power on, Bluetooth enabled” when I turn them on, I hear a disembodied woman announcing in a charming Japanese voice, “Something something, Brewda-toofah something else.” (I apologize for my complete incompetence when it comes to the phonetic spelling of the Japanese words I hear.)

I sometimes turn on the cans just to hear her say, “Brewda-toofah.”

And anyway, the American voice sounded suspiciously like Hal from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Thanks to my little Japanese friend in my headphones, I’ll be blissfully unaware when she gives me an ominous warning such as, “Dave, stop it. Stop, will you? Stop Dave. Will you stop, Dave? Stop Dave.”

And with that, I shall stop writing for the day.

12 January 2024

Getting in Touch with San Francisco

Not only are all the exaggerated claims you’ve heard about San Francisco loonies true, they’re actually underexaggerations.

Buzz works in a community health clinic, and broke all the rules to show me the “Psychological Evaluation Form” for a new patient.

“Client has 27 priors of burglary and theft. He needs to get in touch with why he has this compulsion.”

That’s almost as good as the note Buzz got from someone looking for a first appointment, “I am a non existent patient.”

Grab your dope and head to Frisco, where plastic syringes are legal and plastic straws are not. Flowers in your hair are still acceptable as long as they’re free-range, organic, and sold by poor yet noble peasants as part of a certified fair trade program.

13 January 2024

Agin’ Photographer’s Lament

Victor hadn’t been at my studio long when he glanced at his calendar and had a little surprise: we were missing an opening at the East Bay Photographer’s Thingie, or whatever the venue’s called.

“I’m not missing it at all,” I responded. “It’s nice and toasty in here, and cold, nasty, and raining outside.”

“But it’s for aging photographers,” he protested, “that’s us!”

I relented—what are friends for?—and agreed I’d join him after an overdue shower. In addition to being a supportive friend, I hadn’t failed to consider the possibility of some good grub.

I’d only been in the shower for approximately thirty-seven seconds when Victor cracked the door to announce the bad news.

“Sorry for the update,” he apologized. “The reception was last night.”

What a revoltin’ development that was.

“I can’t think of a worse waste of time than showering before sleeping alone,” I complained after I was dressed.

“It’s not as bad as you think,” Victor reported. “Annie told me the thing was for Asian photographers, not agin’ ones like us.”

I reevaluated the situation after I unsobered up and appreciated how very fortunate I am. I missed a nasty trip in the rain, and I’m clearly doing well since a premature shower was my biggest disappointment in days.

What an enlightenin’ development that was.

14 January 2024

Writing Beyond Reproach

Wanda said Joel has been giving her “constructive criticism” about her writing; the most recent exchange did not go well. Here are a few of the vitriolic details.

It started innocently; Joel suggested that she had confusion with her rhymes. She admitted to perhaps using too many alliterations, but insisted that she’s never used rhymes.

Having set up the ambush, Joel pulled the trigger on both barrels and told her that she’s confused her vowels with her bowels and was writing shit.

Wanda lobbed a bomb back at him; she claimed the reason he was a third-grade English teacher was the fourth-graders wrote better than he ever had.

The whole little brouhaha sounded like an elementary school argument to me. I’ve never had anyone attack my writing like that; it’s beyond reproach. Nota bene, I didn’t say it’s above criticism; it’s beneath critical discussion.

And that’s just fine with me; I plan to keep it there.

Coming next weak: more of the same.

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©2024 David Glenn Rinehart