Name this Song

Hint: It's a Beatles tune.

More of the same found here.

Snack Attack

"A zine (pron.: /ˈziːn/ zeen; an abbreviation of fanzine, or magazine) is most commonly a small circulation self-published work of original and/or appropriated texts and images usually reproduced via photocopier."

My broadcast journalism professor said he knew everything there was to know about rock music created before 1976, but after that, "There wasn't anything worth knowing."

I think Lance Laurie, author and designer of the now defunct zine Snackbar Confidential, feels the same way about pop culture. "I created Snackbar Confidential in 1997. It's a small xeroxed cut-n-paste ZINE (ON PAPER!) with lots of original ads and clippings from the years 1966 through 1976. Every issue is filled with concert ads (Led Zeppelin, The Carpenters,The Raspberries), food ads (Space Food Sticks, Marathon candy bars, Zotz), TV show ads (Maude, Love American Style), and other oddball movie, cartoon and lots of FOOD ads. So if you were one of the Brady Bunch/Charles Manson generation--you'll dig it!"

Here's a typical page from any issue of Snackbar:

Mr. Laurie touted Snackbar Confidential as "The zine with an itchy finger on your memory trigger", and I really enjoy his mixture of nostalgia and sarcasm.

The "test pattern woman" appeared in almost every film shown in my junior high classes. I'd yell, "Wooo Wooo!" every time she popped up onscreen. Even though we were in a dark room, the teacher always grumbled, "Brent! Be quiet!"

From 1998 to 2005, I collected 14 issues of Snackbar Confidential. Despite the existence of email, Lance would mail post cards to let people know that his newest issue was ready. I respect that low-tech ethos, and the post cards were fun to receive:

No, I'm not sharing my home address with you. I had the issues mailed to the high school because my initial interest in zines was for finding creative publications for my journalism students to read. 

I really haven't thought about my Snackbar collection for years. But then I saw this on TV Sunday night. Click here.

I don't have an opinion about Mackenzie Phillips, but I remembered what Lance thought (or pretended to think) of her. This is the back cover of one of his Snackbar issues.

I sure hope no one ever prints a zine or creates a blog where they have fun at my daughter's expense. 

Ummm...

whoops.

Just So You Know

If you are supposed to be coming upstairs for dinner, but instead you are hunting for jungle animals, make sure you have two pairs of sunglasses (one pair worn upside down) and your flashlight in your Scooby Doo bucket.

"The man who is prepared has his battle half fought." Miguel De Cervantes

Ouch.

In my senior class we do some "real world" writing, and I have my students create various signs that could be posted in their neighborhood. Trying to find some fun examples, I Googled "creative garage sale signs". That's how I found this one:

They Have Nice Buns, Too.

In 2011 the Iowa Beef Industry Council and the Iowa Cattlemen’s Association chose The Rusty Duck restaurant in Dexter as serving the best hamburger in Iowa. And for two years I have been aching to get over there to eat one. 

I finally got my chance on Saturday. 

Dexter is located about 35 miles east of Des Moines, and it has a population of 611. When I was Charlotte's age, my hometown had 645 people, so driving through Dexter was like pulling on a favorite old sweater.

The Rusty Duck is located on Marshall Street, and it was already full when we arrived at five. The bar had been open since four, and we were asked by the hostess if we had reservations. Since we didn't call ahead, we were given a tall table, and Char sat in a high-backed bar stool. That worked out fine. I think Char felt like a big girl because she didn't need a booster seat.

Here's my dinner:

That is one good-looking burger.

We were told that the cook prepares the hamburgers on the rare side, but I ordered mine medium rare like I always do. My 1/2 pound burger was really tasty, but next time (and there will be a next time) I'll go with medium temperature instead. It was almost too rare for my liking. The onion rings tasted as good as they looked.

Daphne raved about her cheeseburger and fries, and we ordered mac and cheese with a side of fruit off the children's menu for Char. The macaroni looked like Kraft Easy Mac, and the side was a small bowl of fruit cocktail poured from a can. That might sound like a criticism, but those are two of my daughter's favorites, and Char was excited to thank the waitress for bringing her such good food.

You can't hear it, but Char is yelling, "Rusty Duck!"

After posing for the picture, Char hung around the main entrance welcoming other patrons by pointing to the front door. "Okay. You go right in there." She's helpful like that.

At dusk, the restaurant's sign looked pretty cool.

On a related note, I saw this on the front of the USA Today newspaper today:

You can read the entire article here. My favorite part is at the end where Des Moines' Gateway Market gets a shout out.

It's nice to see Des Moines get some love in a nationally syndicated publication because the city sure wasn't doing well at the Rusty Duck. I overheard this conversation between an older couple and their young bartender.

"How you two doing tonight?"

"Pretty good. Just got back from Des Moines."

"Wow." he replied sarcastically, "I bet that was fun."

"'It was fine. We spent the day shopping and eating."

As he sauntered away with their drink order, he sneered, "Big day in the metropolis, huh?"

Sometimes I miss small town life, but I don't miss that kind of small town mentality.

Bug Update: The Doors

Back in August I found myself in a staff meeting where we were asked to tell the group something unique about ourselves. Knowing that few people read my blog, I said, "I'm restoring a 1962 Volkswagen Bug by myself."

Even as I said the words, I didn't think I was telling the truth. Am I really restoring this car? I don't think so. "Restoring" implies I'm taking this car back to its original condition. That's not my goal; I don't want the Bug to look new. I just want my car to look better. I guess I'm not restoring the Bug, I'm improving it.

What's most important to me is that it stops safely, starts reliably, and doesn't look embarrassing - in that order. I do have the brakes sorted out, and when the battery is fully charged, the car fires up like a champ. That's two out of three, which ain't bad, but I'm still not there. 

I like that I can get the faded paint to shine, but I have to work on the bent bumper, the dented front fender, and the rust holes in the doors.

 There was a time when I would have just run strip of tape over the holes and called it good:

But I'm not that guy anymore. I don't want "bodywork" that will peel off in the rain. The problem is I also don't want to fix those rust holes myself. I don't have a welder, let alone the skills needed to weld in a patch panel.  So, I'm taking what I hope is the easier route. I'm going to install a better door.

Initially I thought I'd use the door my Dad had purchased back in the nineties. On the upside it's the right year and it was free, but on the downside the door was the wrong color and the bottom sill had begun to rust. 

Ultimately I decided to use that door for parts only, so I needed to go shopping. I now check my saved searches for TheSamba.com classified ads about three times a day:

 

Shopping these ads requires patience, diligence, and good timing (i.e. luck). You had better done your homework, too. If a popular part comes up for sale, you only have seconds to decide if it's a good fit for your car and your budget. 

My car's paint color is L87 pearl white. Because it's the same color as Herbie, it's fairly popular. I got really lucky back in December when I spotted an ad for a pair of pearl white doors off of a '64 Beetle that was in Sacramento, California. Here's a picture from the ad:

All years of Bug doors will fit my car, but I have learned that only doors made from 1961 to 1964 will have the right shape for the body lines and the chrome strips to align.  I also know you should never buy a car or a car part in the rain, but I checked the seller's positive feedback and decided I could take a chance. As soon as Daphne confirmed the color would match my car, I emailed the seller and offered to buy both doors. I wanted that front fender, too.

Although the ad was online for only five minutes, the passenger door was already sold. But I was able to snag the driver's door for $100. I was worried that shipping something as heavy as a car door would be really expensive, but seller was using the Greyhound Bus system, and they only charged $60. I wasn't aware that Greyhound shipped packages. I guess they just put them under the bus with the luggage. Actually, it's a pretty good idea. Anyway, six days on the road, and the door made it home alright. 

Unless you want to pay extra, you have to go down to the Greyhound station to receive your package. The station was crowded when I got there, but December 21st is the busiest travel day of the year. I was disappointed when I was told that they didn't have anything for me, but when I said it was a car door, the guy behind the counter knew exactly where it was.

Sizing it up.

Looks like the door took quite a trip to get to me:

I know these cars aren't big Legos and the parts don't just snap together, but I think I can get this door on without too much swearing... I've already been able to break free the rusted hinge screws and replace them with original German ones.

Before:

Two hours later:

Now you'll have to excuse me, I still have another door, a front fender, and a bumper to shop for.

Happy Valentine's Day... tune!

I found "Is It Love" by JON on the CD Insane Times: 25 British Psychedelic Artyfacts from the EMI Vaults.

Currently, this is my favorite song about love (via youtube).

Happy Valentine's Day... toot!

I don't turn on the light when I go into Char's room to wake her up. I usually just lean into the crib and slowly rub her back. As she starts to roll around, I'll whisper something like, "Good morning little Char-Bar."

This morning I softly said, "Hey big girl, Happy Valentine's Day." In response, Charlotte rolled over and ripped three big ones. I snickered and asked, "Is that how you say 'Happy Valentine's Day'? With toots?"

From the darkened depths of the crib Charlotte broke into giggles and said, "Valentine toots!" We both laughed out loud, and for the rest of the morning Char and I chuckled over her fart joke.

I hope you have a happy Valentine's Day, too.

Color Me Impressed

For the past two months I haven't been able to do much work on the Bug. It's just been too cold out in the garage. Instead, I've been buying parts and doing what ever small jobs I can from inside the house.

For instance, the plastic grab handle on the dashboard has gotten pretty stained from hands and sunlight. Over the years I've tried soap and water, SOS pads, and even a tire cleaner, but nothing has put a dent into those stains.

When it comes to stain removal, Daphne swears by OxiClean. Anytime Char or I have a nasty spill on our clothes, Daph stirs up a mixture of the powder and water and lets the fabric soak for a couple of days before throwing it in the washer. The stuff works wonders. 

With nothing to lose, I removed the Bug's handle and let soak in a OxiClean mix overnight. 

Had I realized that the above picture wasn't in focus, I would have taken another before reinstalling the handle, but I think you can still get a pretty good idea of how well the OxiClean worked. The handle isn't perfect, but it looks a lot better than it did, and that's all I'm aiming for with my VW project. (More on that tomorrow.)

Thanks, Billy.

By the Numbers

I haven't posted for awhile because our house was recently bit pretty hard by the flu bug.  I had a fever rise to 102, and I stayed home from work on Thursday. By Sunday morning we could tell Char was also a casualty, and she spent the day laying on mom who was laying on the couch. Instead of watching the Super Bowl, Daphne tried hard not to move too much and wake her daughter. With a fever on Sunday, Char couldn't go to daycare on Monday, so I stayed home with her. 

If Char's sick days were movies, the first sick day is a quiet love story with a lot of cuddling. The second sick day, the sequel, is an action packed drama with high speed chases and big, tearful crashes.  

Typically, Char spends her first sick day politely sleeping on the couch, our bed, and her crib. Charlotte won't let her mom out of her sight, and she'll usually go to bed early. Although she doesn't want her daughter to feel sick, Daphne secretly enjoys these times because she gets to hold her baby girl all day. 

Then comes day two. That's when it's my turn to stay home. After sleeping for about 36 hours, Charlotte is full of beans, and she wants nothing to do with her two hour nap. Although I don't want my daughter to feel sick, I secretly dread these times because I get to chase after my wild child all day. 

Here's Char's second sick day from last week. Poor thing, just look how run down she is. 

Okay, she did cough, but that was it for her flu symptoms. By the time Mom came home from work at 4:00, I was beat and Charlotte was on her third wind. Unfortunately, Mom had caught the bug, and by the time Char went to bed Daphne had called in sick for Tuesday. 

The next couple of days were pretty quiet, but Char's fever raised it's head again on Thursday evening. It wasn't too serious, but we couldn't send her to day care. Luckily, Charlotte was scheduled for a Friday with Grandma Deb, so neither Daph and I had to miss work. Char had a good day with Grandma, but she was a little slower than usual, and she took a three hour nap.

Wait a minute? She was feverish yesterday, and she slept more than usual? Oh, no. Daphne's gone from 7a.m. to 6:30 p.m. for All State Band on Saturday, and so I'll be alone for Sick Day 2, The Sequel, again?  This could get ugly.

I had this idea that I'd take a picture or shoot a short video of what we were doing at the top of every hour. Here we are reading "Wacky Wednesday" at 7 a.m. At this point I'm still optimistic about the day. 

Charlotte has recently discovered my change jar, and she likes to dump out the coins, "Dad, can I have all your money?" I might as well get used to that question (8:00 a.m.).

Before we could read any stories on "Mom's Bed" (we also live at "Mom's House" - why don't I own anything?), Char had to rid the bed of all offending pillows (9:00 a.m.)

She was finally interested in eating some breakfast around 9:30 a.m. If you eat pancakes and syrup with your hands you need a lot of wet wipes.

While we were eating, Maggie disemboweled a dog toy. 

When we hit ten o'clock, it was time for Bubble Guppies, walking on our toes, and playing with dog toy stuffing.

 Parents will notice Char's saggy diaper. Looks like someone made her Dad a present (11:00 a.m.).

Around noon, reinforcements arrived in the form of Mom. Daphne was able to take over for an hour, and I was able to take a shower. I'll spare you from a photo of that. 

Daphne left around 1:00 p.m., and the chase was back on. I like this video because Char is trying to sing the Urbandale fight song while she navigates the kitchen, her dog, and the distraction of Mom's boots. Note the VW parts catalog on the kitchen island.

2:00 p.m. It's appropriate that the next video is blurry. It matches Char's deteriorating behavior as she refuses to take a nap. The hat and scarf were taken off her large, stuffed bear. Char strips the bear when she's trying to be naughty.

3:00 p.m.  I tried putting Char in her crib, hoping she'd quiet down after a few minutes, but she cried, yelled, and threw herself against the sides of her crib. Then she threw every buddy and blanket out of her crib, and she got her leg caught between the crib's bars.

At 3:30 p.m. I realized that is no way Char is going to settle down; she has gotten herself too upset. I gave up on either of us getting any rest, abandoned the camera, and just concentrated on our basic survival.

The rest of the day and evening is touch and go. Anything can touch her off, and then she'll go crazy. Seriously. A girl who is very overtired, slightly ill, and a terrible two is a tough combination. I had planned on taking Char to the library or to the grocery store in the afternoon, but that looked like torture for both of us, so we stayed home all day.

Eventually Mom returned with a warm bucket of KFC and an even warmer mood, and Char went to bed a little after 8:00 p.m. Around 9:00 p.m. I finally began to relax.

Sure, I was proud of how hard I worked, but in reality I was only taking care of one child. What about parents who have more than one kid? What about parents of twins or multiples? Single parents? Daycare providers? Daycare providers who have their own children, too? How do they do it?

I don't know, but God bless them. They have my respect, that's for sure.