Telling the Tim Conway joke about the concerned salesman who was walking through Rural America and knocked on the door of a farmhouse to find a little boy.

Happy Thanksgiving!

With Kona and Vivor at an undisclosed location, 11.23.2010. Keep in mind that this is about twenty minutes into the session, just before the guy runs out of energy.

Google Doodle by Ina Garten.

Check out Vive’s eyes! A perfect sunset at good ol’ Fromhold Field, San Pedro CA, 11.22.2010. Photo by M.

M and I are in the middle of an endless jaunt backward down Memory Lane, paying particular attention to the depressing seventies. There are a few questions about the era that have been raised:

• What was the story with all the depressing television theme songs in the seventies? Was it a conspiracy theory?
• What was up with all the hanging ferns?
• Did one lady make all those wall-hanging macramé owls?
• Who framed all those butterflies?

Behold, James Lileks has explored this topic in his book and website called Interior Desecrations. Check it out. You will howl.

The seventies marked a complete and utter collapse of taste. Everyone knew someone whose mom was into this crap, and stuffed the house with homemade bric-a-brac that just looked stupid and weird. Owls were often involved. Owls made out of pipe cleaners and elbow macaroni. Brace yourself; here we go.

For more of this stuff than you can shake a avocado green rotary telephone at, click here.

(Thx, Vic.)

For about four and a half years, I’ve been designing a story called Under Angels. A fantasy psychological horror historical mystery thriller thing. It’s been said to have elements of Fight Club, Jacob’s Ladder, Myst, The Da Vinci Code, and perhaps even Operation: Mindcrime. It originally came out of my mind as a screenplay in 2006, and I shelved it for a couple years. =more=