Flip Flop Flying

It’s possible I’m losing my mind — probable — but when I was walking home last night, from across the street — a wide street — there were two people chatting. I wasn’t paying attention, just aware that they were there, as one tends to be late at night on semi-deserted streets. Thinking about other stuff, I heard my name. My given name and surname. “Craig Robinson.” I looked over the street at the people. They were paying no attention to me whatsoever. And I heard the mention of John Cusack, and it was obvious they were talking about the other Craig Robinson, and the film he was in recently. And my ego wept.

It’s nice when you notice something new or interesting when you’re walking down a street you’ve been down plenty of times before. A couple of weeks ago I noticed this green garage. It’s on the way from where I live to the bar where I drink. Yesterday, it was way too hot* to waste precious in-front-of-the-fan time to go down there to take photos, so Google Street View will have to do. All looks kinda normal from the first angle…

There’s a sloped wall visible from the front…

But from this side, it gets awesome and slopes downwards towards the back too.

* It was 33°C (91°F) with a “feels like” temperature of 41°C (106°F). I think we need a new name for the “feels like” temperature. It’s kinda clunky-sounding and makes it sound a bit too wishy-washy when, for the non-meterologists of us, the people who look at the weather forecast to determine our clothing for the day, what the temperature feels like is all that matters. Why would I care if it’s actually 33°C if when I walk out of the house it feels like it’s 41°C?

A man in a tight cords wore a T-shirt
Keep on truckin’ written on the front.

I took his advice
And I kept on truckin’
I kept on truckin’
All night long.

I kept on truckin’
I kept on truckin’
I kept on truckin’
All day long.

I kept on truckin’
I kept on truckin’
And I kept on truckin’
The next day, too.

I kept on truckin’
All the next week
I kept on truckin’
The week after that.

I kept on truckin’
I kept on truckin’
I kept on truckin’
The whole next month.

I kept on truckin’
All through spring
I kept on truckin’
Through summer, too.

I kept on truckin’
Through autumn and winter
I kept on truckin’
And the year after that.

And the year after that
And the year after that
And the year after that
And the year after that.

I kept on truckin’
I kept on truckin’
I kept on truckin’
For twenty five years.

Twenty five years and
Sixteen weeks and
Three days and
Two and a half hours.

Then I stopped truckin’
And I heard on the radio
Another guy was still truckin’
So he won the truckin’ endurance competition.

Pet Sounds. The Beach Boys’ 1966 album. You all know what most people think of this record, and as someone who’s website takes its name from the lyrics of a Beach Boys song, I’m sure you can guess how I feel about the record. I was lying in bed trying to sleep last night, and got to wondering if I could find cover versions of each of the album’s songs on YouTube. Well, of course I could. It’s YouTube. So, embedded for your enjoyment, Pet Sounds as covered by YouTubers. (I picked them at random if there were several versions of the same song. I’m making no comment about the quality of the cover version, either pro or anti. They are, though, all interesting in their own way.)

Wouldn’t It Be Nice by Burro1231

You Still Believe in Me by simonbarget

That’s Not Me by jimfusco

Don’t Talk (Put Your Head on My Shoulder) by troubleclef

I’m Waiting for the Day by JDrevolver66

Let’s Go Away for Awhile by mandobanjoguitar

Sloop John B by bubtulip48

God Only Knows by alpet07

I Know There’s an Answer by posturex1

Here Today by michaelthorner

I Just Wasn’t Made for These Times by ChrisDodgen

Pet Sounds by kobifox

Caroline, No by podonline66

And for the extra track completists out there:

Hang On to Your Ego by sydbarrett5

Since moving over to WordPress, this blog receives between 25 and 50 spam comment a day. It’s as tedious as all spam tends to be. Here’s what some of them have to say:

Helene Humann says: I would really urge people to buy fondue sets, I have possessed a set for quite a while. I purchased it when I was on holiday in Zurich and have got it out ever since. It usually surfaces at parties for chocolate fondue with strawberries. Sometimes we have cheese fondue at dinners as well. Make sure you wash out them after you use them though, otherwise they can be very difficult to washout!
Thanks for the tip, Helene. I don’t own a fondue set, mostly, I think, because I rarely have dinner parties. It’s all I can do to make something warm to eat never mind filling a thing full of molten cheese. and really, it’s a slippery slope if one starts making fondue to eat when one is alone.

Car Antenna says: Where can I find a good car antenna?
I’m pretty much the worst person to ask for a couple of reasons, Car Antenna. Firstly, I’ve never owned a car, and therefore never had any need to buy one. Secondly, you IP address indicates that you are in Phoenix, Arizona, and I’ve only spent about an hour there in my life. As far as I noticed, they didn’t sell them in the airport. I hope you manage to find one. It would be somewhat odd if someone called Car Antenna was unable to buy one. Hang on in there, champ!

Good Abs Workout says: Glenn Beck was the gross kid everybody picked on in school now using his nasty talk to try and get level the score with them. I can’t consider anybody trusts any of the crap that come out of the mouth of this right winged racist.
I agree wholeheartedly, Good Abs.

cash for junk cars says: What will you now do tomorrow because of what you did today?
Well, because I did quite a lot of editing of my book, it means that I can take it easy tomorrow, and go to the Blue Jays-Tigers game, have a few beers, and enjoy myself.

Bryon Toda says: Shakira’s a beautiful person.
Oh Bryon, how right you are, she is dreamy.

Lexus GS says: There’s too much blood in my caffeine system.
Funny man!

Shirley Manners says: The sun and the rain playing a deceiving game.
Shirley, you just blew my mind a little bit. I’m gonna have to think about that some more.

Boston Market Coupon says: I’m a fan of Beck, O’Reilly and others, but Sean hannity is definitely my favorite.
You should have a fight with Good Abs Workout. He’s got good abs; you’re a coupon. He’d kick your fuckin’ ass!

lose weight naturally says: What is the most important thing that happened to you today?
As I was saying to cash for junk cars: editing.

Dario Internet Marketing says: Ahhh the Yanks. Good stuff here. Shame they are this injured this season.
Well, I’m hoping Pettitte and A-Rod will be back soon, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a wee bit worried.

The Network Marketing Guy says: Ahhh the Old Sox. Great stuff here. So sad they are so hurt this season.
As a Yankees fan, I don’t really care about the injured Red Sox players.

Mrs. Anti-Virus says: I bet you wish george bush was still president now
Not really.

Cast iron outdoor fireplace says: i absolutely like your world-wide-web web site. Its really informative. Goodbye!…
Thank you kindly. Goodbye.

Now let’s see how much comment spam this post will produce.

Went for a haircut this morning. I tend to think of haircuts as a chore rather than as a part of my beauty regime, so going to a trendy place to pay $60 is not something I’m gonna do. Instead, I went to a barbershop with nice faded sign-writing above the windows. The bell jangled when I opened the door, and I could see the white-coated back of big, old, balding guy in the doorway to a back room. He was talking loudly in Italian. He turned round, acknowledged my presence, and finished up his phone call. Looking around the room, there were lots of dusty bottles of lotions, faded pictures of footballers, faded topless calendars (July 1983 was particularly busty), an old Zorro poster, and a bunch of photos that looked like family photos.

The barber came out, showed me to the chair, asked what I wanted, and the festivities began. Firstly, he spoke like a caricature of an Italian, so when I quote him later, feel free to read it out loud like-a dat. I asked him how his week had been. He stopped snipping, and began chatting with me in the mirror. For the majority of my time in the chair, it felt like the haircut was incidental to the monologue. The inspector is breaking his balls because a customer complained that he cut him, drew blood. Thanks for telling me that, makes me feel quite confident sat here with you behind me holding some scissors. It was the first of at least ten times he said someone was breaking his balls. Although one time he amended it, and said the government was breaking his ass. On a complete tangent, he asked if I knew Errol Flynn.

“That’s the guy who played Robin Hood, right?” I said.
“The original Robin ‘Ood, not like Kevin Costerner (sic) or Russell Crowe: they make Robin ‘Ood look like a fuckin’ idiot!”

He’d been on vacation to Hollywood. He’d seen the graves of Flynn, Marilyn Monroe, Dean Martin, Farrah Fawcett. “Look!” He pointed to a photograph of his round pink head in front of the Hollywood sign. Then he pointed to an old black and white photograph of him as a young man; full head of black hair. Then he warned me that hair was like grass; that I should take care of it and cut it more in the summer because “you don’t want to end up like me!”

He reached over to a jar of alcohol, and pulled out a straight razor, and began removing the hair on the back of my neck. He returned to his original point about the inspector, and the customer who’d complained. Turns out the customer was Jewish. So now I wonder: what is the correct way to handle a situation when an old Italian anti-Semite has a cut-throat razor at your neck? Should one take a stand? Or should one, like I did, sheepishly and quietly mutter “uh-huh” to everything he said, and wait for the slightest pause to change the subject? I jumped in and asked him where abouts in Italy he was from.

Sicily. It’s wonderful, apparently. Go in the summer, they have the best fruit you will ever taste.

Dear Canada,

I’ve not seen a Royal Canadian Mounted Policeman. Where the hell are they? Where are you hiding them? I’ve been here for three months and I’ve not seen hide nor hair of ‘em. I’ve had some maple syrup, I’ve had poutine, I’ve hummed along to “O Canada,” I’ve heard people say “eh” and “aboot,” I’ve watched hockey on TV, I’ve admired Don Cherry’s suits, but I’ve not seen a Mountie. Please send one round to stand outside the house tomorrow morning.

Yours sincerely,

Craig Robinson

PS. If I could think of something funny to write, this is where I’d do it.

I went downstairs to make a cup of tea. Came back up, sat down, looked out of the window, and FUCKING HELL-

Anybody a) know what type of bird that is? and b) want to share that information?