So Wrong It’s Good

Marko’s string of failed children’s book titles.  Between the Bi-Polar Express and Where the Sidewalk Ends in a Chalk Outline.  It just appeals to me.

Sappy Cat Blogging

La Belle Province’s new kitty Buddy Love, who is a literary cat, obviously. And an opinionated one, too, from the other photo.

Congratulations!

to my friend _h, who to a reasonable degree of medical certainty (and an a affidavit from a pain management doc) is officially NOT addicted to prescription pain medication.*

I could have told you that.  Addicts don’t break their pills in half to take a half-dose, nor do they defer taking their meds until they don’t have to drive.  And complaining about how pills make one “tipsy” is not usually addict behaviour.  But what do I know, I’m just a coroner who doesn’t prescribe.

*This reminded me strongly of corporal Cecil Wormsborough St. John Nobbs of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch, and it just tickled me.

Every Man’s Heart

I’ll tell you an old tale I learned in a rhyme, There are four women in every man’s heart.

Though the ages of love they pass one at a time, Hold you together, tear you apart.

As you carelessly gather the wildflowers of youth, A maid in the meadow will run by your side.

She will tell you of tenderness, courage, and truth, Innocence blooms with the flowers that die.

It’s only an old tale I learned in a rhyme, There are four women in every man’s heart.

Though the ages of love they pass one at a time, To hold you together, tear you apart.

Cold cloak of loneliness blankets your soul, The demon lover will burn at your breast.

Her passion’s the furnace; your body’s the coals, Love is the steel to be tempered and pressed.

It’s only an old tale I learned in a rhyme, There are four women in every man’s heart.

Though the ages of love they pass one at a time, To hold you together, tear you apart.

You’re lost and you’re tossed on the ocean of life,

A stout-hearted woman will give you her hand. She is more than a lover; she’s more than a wife; A beckoning beacon to guide you to land.

It’s only an old tale I learned in a rhyme There are four women in every man’s heart. Though the ages of love they pass one at a time, To hold you together, tear you apart.

Rake through the embers of love you will find, The tall quiet woman who shines through your eyes. Into the shadows that burden your mind, Peace and contentment, the wanderer’s prize.

It’s only an old tale I learned in a rhyme, There are four women in every man’s heart. Where will the place be and when is the time, To bring you together, keep you apart?

Archie Fisher 2008 Image Fire Opal Laura Coombs Hills 1899

A Food Bleg

Oh, wise and worldly readers–have any good restaurant recommendations for Columbus, Ohio?  I recently had a meal at a brewpub there that was quite good.  And I’d be really happy if I could remember the name of it.  But I can’t, more’s the pity.  I avoid national chains like the plague.  I’m looking for some place with good food, and the chance for some decent conversation.  Brewpubs are nice, German food is good (though I’ll bet German Village will be jammed on a weekend evening) French, Italian, something like that.  I have no personal objections to Asian, but I don’t think the evening will go that way.

And if you could help me remember the place I went to, that was near the university and some sort of West Side Market analogue, I’d be quite grateful.  C’mon hippocampus, work with me.

Where’s A Clue-by-four When You Need It?

If you have made an appointment with a professor, and you are in the professor’s office talking to him, and you’re phone rings, you should probably let it go to voice mail. Interrupting the professor, even a happy fun professor like Dr. Zeus will antagonize him, and your interaction will, inevitably degrade. As a corollary, if you’re in a hole, stop digging. This useful life lesson brought to you by your local university faculty.

Forensics and Hollywood

When time was, before medicine ate my life, I did some acting. That was enjoyable. Now, I know where my talents lie, and they don’t lie on the stage. I have a cousin who works on Broadway, and though I admire his talent, I could not live with the amount of uncertainty in his life. I would, however, like to be a consultant for projects that have forensic or pathology themes. There are plenty of agencies that help lawyers find consultants, but I know very few folks that help writers or producers find consultants. I have a web presence (obviously, you’re reading this,) but I don’t know of a serious forensic path person who has been consulted by creative types.*

I don’t seem to be alone. Via TAM, tgace gives the top ten reasons he hates movies and TV I agree. I’ve posted Frank Shonberger’s reasons why CSI makes him scream before:

TOP 10 REASONS WHY CSI MAKES ME SCREAM
10. You cant get DNA results in an hour. (Spoken normally, almost warily)
9. Hummer H2s are not likely to be used as a crime scene vehicle.
8. Unlike the CSI who was able to quit her strip job after getting her CSI position, its rumored that some criminalists still have to strip for extra money.
7. DNA data and Drug data do not come off the same instrument.
6. It can take 40 people 6 months to do the work one CSI does in an hour.
5. Despite the fact that CSI solves 100% of the cases, the crime rate in Las Vegas doesn’t drop.
4. We have bright, buzzing fluorescent lights instead of sexy blue lighting.
3. Proper crime scene attire is Tyvek gowns and latex gloves, not leather pants and high heels. [pity WZB]
2. Not enough underwear [ditto, WZB]
1. YOU CANT GET DNA RESULTS IN AN HOUR!!!!!!! (Pound on desk and speak
through clenched teeth for effect!)
M. Frank Shonberger

Using the Three to Mao theory, I do have a friend who has some connections to show runners in Hollywood. This friend is helpful enough. The industry is odd enough (and the connections are loose enough) [come to think of it, MY screws are loose enough] that I doubt anything would come of it. Also, actual knowledge of a subject might get in the way of the storytelling, no matter how dumb it gets. Perhaps writers and producers don’t know what they don’t know.

*Actually, only one.

Across the Great Divide

I’ve been walkin’ in my sleep
Countin’ troubles ‘stead of countin’ sheep
Where the years went I can’t say
I just turned around and they’ve gone away

I’ve been siftin’ through the layers
Of dusty books and faded papers
They tell a story I used to know
And it was one that happened so long ago

It’s gone away in yesterday
Now I find myself on the mountainside
Where the rivers change direction
Across the Great Divide

Now, I hear the owl a-callin’
Softly as the night was fallin’
With a question and I replied
But he’s gone across the borderline

The finest hour that I have seen
Is the one that comes between
The edge of night and the break of day
It’s when the darkness rolls away

Kate Wolf

A continental divide is a high point that separates two (or more) watersheds.  In Ohio, the Cuyaghoga drains into Lake Erie and thence to the Atlantic; the Tuscawaras drains into the Ohio, thence to the Mississippi and the Gulf.  The Portage Path in Akron is the old trail that connected the two river systems, where the statue (above) stands.  The Great Divide refers to the separation of the Pacific and Atlantic watersheds, it follows the Rocky Mountains. Map from Wikimedia Commons.

Sappy Cat Blogging

Tinker the Wonder Cat

Couldn’t Pass This Up.

Ok, I can’t get it to embed.  So look here: Chung-chung! For the Christopher Meloni and Mariska Hartigay muppets.