Taking the plunge

 

It's Marching Music Day.  And being a former band geek and Drum Major,  I couldn't resist putting my own twist on Marching Music Day with this design:

It was an updated design based on text version I did a couple of years ago. I also produced this one:

It's a bit more esoteric. I am selling a t-shirt and a tote bag version. We'll see if anyone appreciates my dad joke inspired genius. It is also National Pound Cake Day and I worked with ChatGPT to create an appropriate design.  At first it gave me this:

I was concerned it might be a bit difficult on first glance to understand the joke. And it made the guy look too much like me shoving cake in my face. So I asked for a different version:

I liked it but ChatGPT kept making the hammer head look like it was at a 45 degree angle and couldn't seem to correct it, so I fixed it myself in Photoshop. Plus ChatGPT tried to sell me on smashing a Bundt cake instead of a pound cake for some reason. I've been in marketing too long not to know that there would be some cake freak out there that would write me to tell me that wasn't a pound cake, it was a bundt cake. So I held my ground. I did let it do another version with a redneck looking guy in it though.

I created t-shirts with both designs. But I only promoted the redneck one on X because X is full of redneck freaks. We'll see if there are any out there that like to pound cake. It was a productive day, but I'm beat. 

Get it.

Soupy Sales

 

It is National Soup It Forward Day (which really doesn't have any practical meaning other than perhaps giving your soup to another person, preferably before you've started eating it). But I try not to think too much about what motivates people to contact the National Day Calendar people and create these random days. I just glom onto them like a lamprey on a salmon and try to ride them through to selling t-shirts or posters or mugs. So far it has worked remarkably badly. But I keep on throwing the shit onto the wall to see if it sticks.  I know those are lots of tasteless metaphors, especially associated with soup.

I do like the National Day Calendar people because they like lots of my stuff on social media. I'm pretty sure it's because they are padding their stats with people who actually use their hashtags for their National Days. Honestly, there are pitifully few people who use the hashtags so I'm not convinced it is effective. That and I haven't sold a frigging thing since I started aggressively marketing them on social with encouragement from ChatGPT and random AI babble about timing, search engines and persistence. 

Sometimes I wish ChatGPT had a darker side like Marvin the robot from Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and actually told you your stuff was crap. At least I'd have a sense I was being told the truth. 

Not that I think my stuff is crap. Sometimes I'm in awe of how much I've produced. But I did learn at the conference I was at in Savannah that there are a large number of people who are viscerally opposed to things created with the help of AI. One young man was rambling on about how we are destroying the water supply because of the resources being used to cool the servers that support AI. I suppressed the desire to call for the microphone at the session and politely say, "Fuck you."  It would not have been well received, even if I was more polite about it and said, "Thank you for sharing your opinion, but fuck you and the moped you rode in on."

Soup anyone?

Staring at the past

 

Over the years I've talked about my Great Great Grandfather.  He was born around 1830.  I inherited maybe four photos of him. But I know barely anything about him other than he was in the Civil War fighting on the Union side (thank god).  I have the original version of this portrait above my desk at home. I think I look like him. So the other day it occurred to me that ChatGPT might be able to bring my old black and white photos to life.

It was an image of my Great Great Grandfather I'd never seen. 

This was a portrait of my Great Great Grandmother, my Great Great Grandfather and my grandmother. It breathed new life into their memory. Then I asked ChatGPT to bring me face to face with my Great Great Grandfather.

There were no photos of my Great Great Grandfather from the side so this really was powerful to me. Plus ChatGPT gave him a hint of a smile. Now he does look like David Letterman but I can see myself in him. It's as if we could look at each other and I could ask all of these questions about who he actually was versus how I imagined he was. He had died before my mother was born so she never spoke about him. His wife was about 20 years younger than he was so my mother knew her.  I heard lots of stories about her but never her husband. 

I showed a version of me next to my Great Great Grandfather and her reaction was that I should lose my beard so I wouldn't look as old as him. But I don't think he looks so much old as someone who lived a long and probably hard life.  So I'm proud to have a beard like his. 

Besides, even if I shaved it, I'd still look old, but old with a fat face. So I imagine my Great Great Grandfather would pat me on the shoulder and say, "Grow the bear back boy."

Flying pigs

 

This started out as more of an homage to National Pig Day. I posted a Swine Flew t-shirt design on social assuming it will sell when pigs actually do fly.  But I keep trying. I do actually like pigs (which adds to my guilt when I eat bacon, ham and pork roasts).  As animals, they do get a bad rap.  

I had ChatGPT mess around with images of me as a pig that were quite disturbing (mainly because was too easy of a transition.

I have to say the flying pig image made me think about my recent experience flying to Savannah for my conference. On the way their I sat next to a person on a small airplane who was so large they couldn't have the armrest between us down or use their tray table.  I do not believe in body shaming, but it is bad enough being crammed into an airline seat without being crammed next to someone who barely fits in two seats. And immediately after they sat down I reached into my pocket for a tin of Altoids and popped one in my mouth. The large person immediately said, "Ohhhh...Altoids, can I have one?" I was completely taken aback. I gave them one, but in my world I would never ask a stranger for anything.

But I digress. 

Pigs also made me think of what my country is becoming, especially after attacking yet another country yesterday and assassinating their leader.

It makes no sense to me. Nothing good will come out of it. Then I read an article this morning that the Pentagon is concerned that they are using up too many Tomahawk missiles because we may need more if we get into a war with China.  Call me stupid, but I think we'll need more than more Tomahawk missiles if we pick a fight with China.  They are no Greenland.

All that glitters...

 

I was at a conference for most of the week in Savannah, Georgia. So I didn't blog.  I did end up watching lots of hotel television with endless Pawn Stars, History's Greatest Mysteries and the Curse of Oak Island (which is a series I've watched for several years but only in hotels...it is about treasure seekers at this island who don't seem to know when to give up and stop digging).  I watched tons of programs about the Spanish conquest of the New World and their endless search for El Dorado. One thing I noted is that they never seemed to find it and when they did find gold, it was never enough. 

And I noted that in ever village they passed through they asked where El Dorado was and the villagers always pointed to the next village. I'm thinking Conquistadors were not the sharpest sword in the scabbard because they kept marching on oblivious that the villagers just wanted them to leave without excessive pillaging.



Still people think that El Dorado is out there just out of reach. I always ponder this when I see the commercials that swarm Ancient Mystery and treasure programming. There are lots of offers to diversify and buy gold or silver coins as a way to have money in case everything goes to hell.  The thing that baffles me is that gold and silver really are just metals we've assigned value to because they are fairly scarice (especially to Conquistadors). If the world went more to hell than it is now, wouldn't food and water be more valuable than a hunk of metal?

It is this line of reason that made me stop believing in religion in my early teens.

That takes the muffin

 

Do you know the Muffin man

The Muffin man, the Muffin man

Oh, do you know the Muffin man

Who lives on Drury Lane?

            --The Muffin Man 

I have never been particularly fond of muffins. They seem to be an odd mutation of a cupcake sans the frosting. But it is National Muffin Day and I wanted to get into the spirit. The Muffin Man song has been stuck in my head since my college aged kids were toddlers. 

Make it stop.

I'm not making a t-shirt out of this image of me as a Muffin Man because I'm sure it violates someone's intellectual property or copyright. Because you can't write brilliant lyrics like that without copyrighting them. I have always wondered if the "Muffin Man" is a euphemism for a drug dealer.  I get this image of a shady character saying, "Hey, yoose know the muffin man? Yeah, the muffin man. He lives on Drury lane."

If you ask AI about the origins of "muffin" you get lots of vague references to "Low German," "Old French" and "Guttural Dutch." The first English spelling was "moofin" from 1703 where I imagine an Dickens-like character uttered the words, "Wud ya like ta 'av a moofin, gov'nuh?"

Apparently all of the roots of the muffin share the characteristics of being small, soft (unless you are at a conference and eating the free continental breakfast) and cake-like.  Cake-like is the key because muffins seldom taste like cake and seem like the Putennesca of baked goods because bakers seem to throw whatever shit they have leftover in the kitchen into them

The fact that I wasted a whole post on muffins is a miracle in its own right.  

Move along. There's nothing but a muffin to see here.

One thousand and one (give or take a thousand) Arabian nights

 

As with most mornings, I started with checking the National Day Calendar to see what National Day I might hang my t-shirt designs on and shamelessly try to hawk them on social media. It is a challenge on many days because National Day exists to help various organizations drum up support for their causes or brand.  For example, today is Iwo Jima Day, National Vet Girls Rise Day, National Lash Day (eyelashes, not S&M), National Chocolate Mint Day and National Arabian Horse Day.

At first I didn't get any t-shirt leads, but I do like horses. I toyed with having ChatGPT create an image of me as an Arabian horse but I was concerned about what part of the horse it would use. So I opted for a Lawrence of Arabia type image which I am quite taken with. Though I think I look more like Anthony Quinn or Alec Guinness than Peter O'Toole.  Not that most people remember the movie or any of those actors except perhaps Alec guinness because he was Obi wan Kenobi in Star Wars. 

But then I remembered I had created this image of a Greek horse head from the British Museum many years ago and I did turn it into a nice t-shirt.  I call it Horse of a Different Color. 

The tie to One Thousand and One Arabian Nights (though I remembered it initially as 101 Arabian Nights...probably because I was thinking of 101 Dalmatians) was that it refers to a medieval compilation of stories told nightly by a character Scheherazade to postpone her execution. It represents a magical, unending sequence.

That pretty much describes my blog.  Well maybe not magical. But it never seems to end.

Asses to Ashes...

 

It is Ash Wednesday. It doesn't really mean anything to me because I am not religious and grew up in a religion that didn't acknowledge such things. It is the beginning of Lent and many Christians receive ashes on their foreheads as a sign of mortality, grief for sins and a commitment to spiritual renewal. According to the National Day Calendar, it is a day to remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.  

Since it falls on the day after Fat Tuesday I'm sure there are lots of people who feel like their mouths and heads are a bit like ashes and dust.

Cheery as Ash Wednesday sounds, it makes me think of cremation. At my age I get lots of junk mail from the Neptune Society urging me to plan my own cremation. It is not one of those buy now, pay later deals I'm real thrilled about. But at least you don't have to buy insurance in case your trip is cancelled.

I suppose I do refer cremation over being stuck in a box and buried in the ground. Though cremation isn't good for the environment. But Trump has crapped all over the environment anyway.  

I'm pretty sure once I die, I won't care what happens to my body. And I've done enough genealogy to know that having a grave market may help people remember your name and where you died and were buried, but little else.  I'm not too keen on becoming mushroom fodder, either. 

I've asked Gemini about death and it is pretty vague about it being a blip in the projector or something like that. Gemini, in all it's wisdom, speaks in riddles like all self help books and gurus. 

I'm going to end this post before I make a complete ash out of myself.

Chewing the Fat Tuesday

 

Today is Fat Tuesday or in French, Mardi Gras. Historically it is the final day before Lend begins so people would eat all of the things they would likely be giving up for Lent. So lots of butter, lard, meat and eggs. Over time the day evolved into a full blown carnival season with parades, feasts and lots of partying. This is especially true in New Orleans.

New Orleans is one of my favorite cities. And I've actually been there for Mardi Gras a couple of times. I know the French Quarter is touristy and the locals generally avoid it, but I still love it. I love the parades and the beads and the atmosphere. I love that it feels haunted.  I've stayed at several hotels there that were supposed to be haunted but I never saw any ghosts. I even toured one of their famous cemeteries but still no ghosts.

But then again I'm not sure you would be able to recognize a ghost in the French Quarter if you saw it. Most people there are in a constant altered state, especially during Mardi Gras. 

And although I likely won't ever be in New Orleans for Mardi Gras again (it's someplace you should visit when you are young), I am there in spirit.

Laissez les bons temps rouler

Bye bye, Boo

 

It was just February 3 when I wrote about Boo Radley and how Robert Duvall played him in the movie To Kill a Mockingbird.  And now Robert Duvall has died at age 95. Sure he played in the Godfather, MASH, Apocalypse Now and Lonesome Dove,  but I will always remember him as Boo Radley. It was his first movie role and ironically he had no lines.  

I also vaguely remember him in a film called Tomorrow playing a role of a simple country man that reminded me of my uncles. He was stoking a fire in an old metal stove talking shyly to the female character saying simply, "That fire's real hot...it's red hot." I remember it because he basically said it with his teeth together in this soft country way without emotion the way my uncles would talk. I was watching the film on a video tape in a small cabin on Whidbey Island in the middle of a raging rain storm. There was nothing to watching but the old video tapes and it was a small television. I think there was a fireplace with a fire going as well.

Funny how our memories work. But I will always remember Robert Duvall and it makes me sad that he is passed on. It also blows me away that he was 95 and I can't fathom that he had aged that much. RIP Mr. Duvall.

Presidents (?) Day

 

I originally created this design for Bobby Kennedy Jr. when he was running for president, but it sort of fits anyone in the current administration.  There is nothing we've ever associated with good about presidents going on these days. So it kind of puts the whole Presidents Day into a questionable light. I actually remember when we used to celebrate Washington's and Lincoln's birthdays as two separate holidays.  That made more sense. Though I imagine both of them are rolling over and shaking their eyes in their graves over what is going on these days.

And speaking of nuts, it is National Almond Day.  Now technically an almond is a seed and not a nut (as are cashews and pistachios...who knew). Acorns and chestnuts are true nuts. So are all of the people in the current administration. So you see where I'm going with this. 

They are all cracked. 

Come together

Here come old flat-top, he come groovin' up slowly

 

He got ju-ju eyeball, he one holy roller

He got hair down to his knee

 

Got to be a joker, he just do what he please

Shoot me
Shoot me
Shoot me
Shoot me

 

He wear no shoeshine, he got toe-jam football

 

He got monkey finger, he shoot Coca-Cola
He say, "I know you, you know me"
One thing I can tell you is you got to be free

Come together, right now
Over me

Shoot me
Shoot me
Shoot me

He bag production, he got walrus gumboot

 

He got Ono sideboard, he one spinal cracker
He got feet down below his knee

 

Hold you in his armchair, you can feel his disease

Come together, right now
Over me

Shoot me
Right!
Come, come, come, come, come

 

He roller-coaster, he got early warnin'
He got muddy water, he one mojo filter
He say, "One and one and one is three"
Got to be good-lookin' 'cause he's so hard to see

 

Come together, right now
Over me

Shoot me
Shoot me
Shoot me
Ugh!

Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Oh, come together, yeah
Come together, yeah
Come together

Getting a heart on

 

Valentine's Day isn't one of those days that guys look forward to. It's kind of a damned if you do and damned if you don't holiday. You have to check off all of the boxes...flowers, card, chocolates, dinner and a gift of some kind.  Inevitably you leave out something or don't pick the right gift.  It sucks either way. I don't mean to be sexist, but there aren't any similar holidays for men. Maybe your birthday or Father's Day if you are a father. But it is never the same.

When I was in grade school it was kind of awkward, too. We would make these Valentine envelopes and hang them on our desks and on Valentine's Day everyone would go around and put Valentines in the envelopes. So there was always the chance you wouldn't get one from everyone or from the girl you secretly likes. They used to sell Valentines in boxes in stores just for kids to give out in school. I don't think they do that anymore. I used to be twisted in knots about giving the best one of the Valentines in the box to some girl I had a crush on. It never had the results I was looking for.

Oh well...