The media is the mess

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Happy Father’s Day

What do you get the God who has everything??

 

.My father was a Methodist minister. And when I saw this card in the window of the card shop, I had to send it to him for Father’s Day.  It was appropriate for several reason.  Because he was a minister.  And because he used to paint versions of this painting back when I was a kid.

Like most children, I had a hard time sitting through an hour-long church service. And my father’s sermons were no exception.  But he did develop one good shtick. Before he was a preacher he’d been a commercial artist.  So he had some artistic skills.  So he used to put on these special church services called “Chalk Talks.”  He’d be up there on stage by the pulpit with his easel.  And during the course of the hour-long service he would do a chalk drawing of a Biblical scene.

And while he was painting, different people would get up there and read Biblical passages or give testimonials, and musicians would play songs, and the choir would sing.  So it was a pretty varied show.  It was kind of fascinating for average people to see a piece of art being created right before their eyes. And my father had it timed so he’d be finishing the picture just as the service was coming to a close.

Then, after he finished the chalk drawing, the lights would go out.  The church would go completely dark. And then my Dad would start turning on different lights attached to his easel.  He painted the picture with fluorescent-colored chalk.  So the picture would change before people’s eyes as the different day-glo colors popped up.  Then for the grand finale, my Dad would utter a few solemn and profound profundities (ha ha).  And then the lights would go on and the crowd would go wild.  Followed by backstage scenes of groupies, drugs and debauchery (kidding).

But all and all, it was a pretty effective bit of show biz.  And different churches in the area would hire my Dad to do the gig at their churches.

So anyways, Happy Father’s Day to the all the Fathers out there!

Shattuck & University

Shattuck & University, 1950s

Shattuck & University, 2015

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Telegraph & Durant, before and after

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Telegraph and Durant about 100 years ago. Man I hardly recognize the place without all the panhandlers!! And I’ll bet it was virtually impossible to buy a good tye-dye t-shirt on Telegraph back then.

100 years later, the Carlton Hotel still standing proudly over Telegraph Avenue.

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Backwords Fables: The Story of the Three Blind Men and the Elephant

 

I’m a big believer in “multiple realities.” We all experience reality from our own limited perspectives. And my reality isn’t any more valid than your reality.

That’s not to say all realities are created equal.  Some of our limited realities are closer to the actual Reality than others.  And if you can persuade people to agree with your particular reality, you could probably make a darn good living as a prosecuting attorney.

Which reminds me of a story.  Once upon a time there were these three blind men. And they were all groping at the body of an elephant and trying to figure out what it is from their limited perspectives.

One blind person fondling the trunk said, “It’s a long tube-like thing.”

The other blind person fondling the belly said, “It’s this big massive mass.”

And the other blind person fondling the asshole said, “It’s this stinking hole.”

But then, by putting all three of their limited perspectives together they realized, it was an elephant!!

And then the elephant got pissed at the blind guys for groping him. And the elephant stomped all the blind guys to death. And the moral is that life is suffering, and it mostly just sucks. The end.

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One Adam 12

“First name Ace, last name Backwords. A as in Adam, C as in Charles, E as in Edward, B as in Boy. . .”

 

I’m a painfully shy, socially awkward person who basically cringes at all human contact. So whenever I’m in public and I suddenly hear those dreaded four words: “Are YOU Ace Backwords??” My first impulse is always to say “Hell no!!” Ha Ha.

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A harrowing encounter with a sweet little old lady

No good deed goes unpublished.

 

I remember this one time I was walking down the street and this frail-looking little old lady — sweet little thing — called out to me: “Would you help me get to the bus stop over there? My legs are too weak and I need someone to hold onto for support.”

“Sure thing,” I said. And I stood along side her so she could hold onto my shoulder and waist, and we started inching towards the bus stop.

“No not like THAT!!” she yelled at me. “Bend down lower so I can get a better grip, you stupid ass.”

“OK,” I said.

“No not THAT low, goddamit!! Stand up higher!!” she yelled again.

“Ooo- kay,” I said.

“Now slow down, you stupid fucking idiot!! You’re walking too fast!!”

“Not THAT slow, for crissakes, you idiot!!”

It went like that for the whole walk to the bus stop. Her cursing and haranguing me, no matter what I did. At one point I actually considered suddenly pulling away from her so she would topple over to the ground. But I was too much of a fucking idiot to do that.

When we got to the bus stop, needless to say she offered me no thanks. Just a gruff sneer. And I walked on my way.

When I was younger I just assumed that old people were wise and intelligent because of all the knowledge they accumulated over the years. But now that I’m old myself, I realize old people are the same assholes they were when they were young people. Just older.

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“Lord of the Rings: a movie review” by Ace Backwords

This is either one, two, or three of the trilogy.

I’m not a big movie guy. The last movie I saw in a movie theater was in 1996. And the only reason I went to that movie was because I was friends with the guy who the movie was about.

But today I was in this pizza joint eating a slice of pizza. And they had the Lord of the Rings movie playing on the video screen…

So I’m watching it out of the corner of my eye while I’m eating my pizza. And I enjoyed the main character’s face — I think it was Bilbo Baggins the hobbit (its been decades since I read one of the books so my hobbit knowledge was sketchy). But I liked how the actor’s face kept flickering from emotion to emotion every time there was a close-up of his face. It was sort of compelling.

And then they’re all being chased by this fierce supernatural beast with big teeth. Who ALMOST gets them. They JUST barely manage to shut and lock the door before they get eaten alive.

And then there’s an exciting scene where big giant spiders want to eat them alive. Good special effects. And at one point Bilbo (or is it Frodo?) drops the magic ring. So your heart is in your sleeve. Because if Bilbo can’t get the ring back, ALL IS LOST!! (but he manages to get the ring back in the nick of time — hooray!!)

But then this giant evil spider is just about to eat Bilbo the hobbit alive. And all seems lost (it’s very exciting — will he find some way to get himself out of this jam??)

At the same time, you know that the movie is only half over. So of course Bilbo isn’t going to get eaten alive and die in the middle of the movie. So of course he’s going to find some “ingenious” way to defeat the evil spider and prevail. Which he does (go figure).

Maybe that’s why I don’t go to movies. I have a hard time “suspending disbelief.” And I’m always wondering how the film director managed to set up and shoot each scene.

“It’s good to hear ya.”

When I passed by later at around 3 AM, Tony was still sitting there at the same spot, head slumped down asleep. He’s gotten used to sleeping in unusual positions over the last few years.

 

Its 9 at night and I just passed Blind Tony, inexplicably sitting on the sidewalk in this back alley on the Berkeley campus right behind the UC Police Station. He’s got his cane and a small bag of stuff, but I don’t see any sleeping bag or camping stuff (hopefully he’s got it stashed in the bushes nearby).

“Hey Tony, it’s Ace,” I said. “Do you know where you are?” (like right outside the fucking police station)

“Yeah yeah I’m fine,” said Tony. We pushed knuckles in manly camaraderie.

“Hey you need anything?” I said.

“Yeah. Could you get me a cup of coffee?”

“Yeah sure.”

“Large if you can afford it. With 5 sugars and just a SMIDGEN of cream.”

“OK. I’ll be right back in 5 minutes.”

But I didn’t realize almost all the coffee joints were closed at this hour. I had to go all the way to Kingpin Donuts on Durant to find coffee.

When I get back to Tony, he’s got his head slumped down like he’s ready to pass out.

“Here’s your coffee Tony, its hot.” I handed him the cup.

“Thanks Ace,” he said

“Sure thing Tony. You hang in there.”

“It was good to hear ya, Ace,” he said.

That killed me. Good to hear ya.

If I’m “virtue signaling” here you can shoot me. It was my one good deed for the day. Or maybe for the week. I can’t think of many other noble deeds I’ve done lately. But the thing that gets me is: Surviving on the streets is such an exacting science. With little margin for error. How Tony has managed to survive out here for years — blind!! — is just mind-boggling to me.

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A gift from Mini Scaredy

 

 

Mini Scaredy woke me up in the middle of the night last night, growling fiercely at me. I couldn’t figure out why until I realized she was carrying a dead mouse in her teeth. She dropped the dead mouse on the ground right by my head. She was giving me a present. How sweet. A midnight snack in case I got a little hungry.

“Didja like that dead mouse I brung ya last night? Didja huh didja?? As soon as I saw it I knew it was the perfect present for that special someone!!”