Tabishland

My son Rhys told me about this site: "How Stuff Works." It is a great site...I found this piece on deja vu very interesting, for example.

Sorry I've been gone. I had one of those life lessons.

It seemed like a good idea at the time- sell all my belongings and join a traveling clog dance group (did I say group? More like cult!).

I mean, who hasn't, from time to time, fantasized about cloggin' morning, noon and night? Well, I did it- I gave up everything to pursue my clog dancing dreams and what a mistake. Not only does it turn out that clog dancers have extremely poor personal hygiene, but they drink. Boy do they drink! We never once gave a performance where someone wasn't fall-down drunk. Also, they have a real mean streak and they're the most promiscuous lot I've ever come across.

Anyway, I made my escape in the middle of the night while staying at a Super 8 in Hutchinson, Kansas. I hitched back to Maryland and begged for my old job back. (It turns out they didn't even know I was missing!)

Hey, what's up Tabishland?

Just one more thing about the wedding extravaganza that bears mentioning. Eric arrived with an award in hand that he claimed to have found in the basement of IAHS. Geoff has always been irritated that Eric got "Most Dramatic" or "Most Dramatical" Senior year (depending on whether you are reading the High Arrow or Yearbook, and depending on just how bad you want to butcher the English language...) Eric says this consolation trophy was meant to be given to Geoff.

Just how far can you carry a running joke? Turns out almost 30 years. AND, you can carry a heavy trophy in your suitcase to prove it. I hope you can read the lettering.

The violinist at the wedding is Geoff's uncle, Mr. Golub. He said his quintet is on a State Dept. tour of the Mideast this fall. Might be worth a drive to Chicago from Champaign when he gets back. Maybe GD can get you roadie passes to get backstage.

Does this mean anything to anybody?:

Michael Turton said...

Wow! A whole blog devoted to Dave Tabish. He used to be my high school drama instructor. Surtasky was my freshman roommie. I went to HS in Indiana, the last two years, then to IUP.

Michael

9:14 AM

If only Tabish were there in uniform. Oh, and I need a fedora.

It's called "maturity" (1978>>>2007).

The backstory: Geoff Day married Vanessa Damoth at the the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island this past weekend....Somehwere in Time, you might say.

Came across this interesting piece. I seem to have this problem with my kids every now and then.

Yes. We have him. He's right here. Really. We're teaching him to blog and as soon as he gets an invitation (Joe?) he has promised to sign on and post something. That way, this will make this blog legitimate and more interesting than it's been (this is what Eric just said). So. Hold your breath....no, don't hold your breath. But he WILL do it. Or we will hunt him down and kill him.

Oh, and Mealy is a married man. But more on that later.

Eric: he's off the market.

From a blog quoted on the New York Times website:

A group of people are standing around discussing some topic where either expertise or native intelligence make them all pretty conversant on the subject. Suddenly, one person pipes up with what he clearly thinks is a profound insight, an important observation. The others smile awkwardly, perhaps exchanging quick meaningful looks, and attempt to steer the conversation elsewhere. In the most embarrassing cases, the person who offered the observation is convinced that the full import of his insight can’t have been understood, and insists upon pressing it again and again. What’s actually happened, though, is that the person has outed himself as desperately behind the curve by offering the very opposite of an insight: some utterly elementary point that everyone else had taken for granted as a premise of the conversation, and indeed, one too obvious to be worth stating among (so they had thought) other reasonably bright and informed people. It’s an odd case of making oneself look bad, not by saying something wrong or false, but by saying something too clearly true.

Fascinating story with several surprises. It's long but worth the time and effort to get all the way to the end--especially when you think about all the things Miller wrote about fathers and sons.

So much for the web's social network as a virtual utopia. It may just be a pathetic way for adults to play Barbie dolls. "N.C.L.", I mean c'mon.

Some insight into our sophomoric mindset down here is provided by this website. It's a form of Southern dialect. Explore it. Enjoy it. Treasure it. Know me better.
The season of Carolina high religion is almost upon us.

btw, Eric went to Dook; so did Nixon.

Here's another video of Jacko wanna-bes.

Related article also mentioned the next level of SecondLife: the adult, multiplayer 3D world where "avatars" hook up and have....virtual....carnal....relations with other players.

And you wonder what motivates those lonely computer geeks to write better programs???

Boy am I naive.

Bone turned me onto The Stones and they've been a joyride ever since. Still like Charlie the best.

I think we need to see this again.

I just gave my left nut for regular at the BP station down the block!

You know he totally didn't flush.

It says Frank Gorshin, but we all know better. And the chick in black leather: reminds me of a certain nun. And the little guy in green shorts, didn't he become a foot doctor with a penchant for younger women?

How embarassing can it be to search your own name at YouTube?

I do not recall making this video. Not. At. All.

I plead the fifth....

The best part of this is, il faux Tim Weiner and Charlie Rose appear to be floating in space at one point.

Paranoid, yes. But I'm in Deep Cover now, having really blown the lid off. At least I ENUNCIATE with DRAMA thanks to my tutelage under Dr. T.