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Tuesday Tidbits

As of 2009 there were 21 books on Steve Jobs.  probably that many again since his death. There have been numerous documentaries,  minor and major Hollywood biographies (both bombed), and I see CNN has a new expose ready for broadcast this month.  Guess I don't know why all the fuss.  Genius, yes.  Didn't invent the computer, or the modern computer, or the modern personal computer.  Able to take personal computing to next levels, yes.  But he was a creep, too.  Loved by Apple users, hated by people who knew him.  I get all that.  What I don't get is the continued heavy media saturation.


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Norah and I watching and applauding a juggler at the Largo Botanical Gardens a couple weeks ago.

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For those dog lovers out there who fully embrace anthropmorphism, Florida is your kind of place.  Wherever you go you see dogs in carts, in arms, on leashes with vests and sometimes even dresses.  Funny how it wouldn't be tolerated up North, but seems to be just dandy down here.  

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Every once in a while a name hits you as something more than a  name.  In the world of entertainment such names as Basil Rathbone, Benedict Cumberbatch, and Engelbert Humperdink are so weird and perfect that they raise the stakes in personal monikers. Last Tuesday, as I was watching some old June Allyson flick on TCM, in the beginning titles I noticed a name dripping with, well, uh, a perfectly sexual genitalia name.  There was scant information on the net about him, but it was a mystery that begged to be solved.  Born Rudolph Fischer in Switzerland, this guy changed his name somewhere along the way.  The Why will never be known, I guess, but this guy who had a long history in the area of "production filming" in Hollywood, especially montages, whatever they are, and had adopted the name Peter Ballbusch.  Oh, please.

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It was announced at Piper Fire that a certain Mackenzie Shepherd has received a promotion to the position of Coordination Supervisor.  Congratulations, kid.

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Was there a howler monkey in the woodshed?


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And finally...this is a wall of a building in downtown St. Pete.  



Creative and arresting.  All bare building walls should be murals.  Not just for artists but for anyone.  

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I've been going through a documentary phase.  Some of it is forced on me because I need to rock my new job to sleep, and it helps to find something on TV to watch.  Good luck with that.  There is nothing, N-O-T-H-I-N-G on network TV anytime.  My go-to source is Netflix streaming.
  
Can you believe there are some people who do not watch sports movies?  A sports fan who doesn't watch sports films. I know someone who refuses to watch war related films, and I can sort of see that, although you have missed Patton, Saving Private Ryan, Bridge Over the River Kwai, Band of Brothers, The Great Escape, Glory, Das Boot, and others. 

But no sports movies?  No Rudy,  Slap Shot, or Moneyball, The Natural, Field of Dreams, or the best one ever, Hoosiers?  Madness.  Sheer Madness.  So where am I going with this?  I saw a documentary called The Undefeated last week.  It is about an almost exclusively black high school in Memphis that has never been to the playoffs.  The high school was organized in 1899, but never been a winner.  They are coached by a volunteer white guy and the film chronicles their season a few years back.  It won an Oscar for Best Documentary.  Watch it.  If you don't have teary eyes in the last 15 minutes you need to get an appointment with your doctor and tell them you are a self-diagnosed psychopath. 

Oh, and that guy I know - the sports nut who doesn't watch sports movies - we shared a womb for 6 1/2 months and he's normal in every other way.  I think. I hope.  

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OK, Comet Catalina is still out there, zooming above the earth and waiting to be photographed.  My efforts have been slowed lately by cloudy skies, but I will attempt to capture it this week.  This is a graph of where it will be sailing this week.  Get out there with your binoculars and see if you can spot it.




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