Sunday, April 5, 2026

Up at aunt Mae’s


As evidenced by this post here: Those Quiet Moments, I spent some time in Beaver Dam with my dads family. My parents didn’t always bring me up there alone, often going  up there  with siblings. 

I can recall seeing my brother Dan’s red glowing cigarette ember floating in the dark across my Grandma’s living room. I don’t know how well that ended for Dan but it’s one of my earliest memories. But that was at my grandmother‘s house. 

Aunt Mae’s was a different experience. In one of Mae’s spare rooms, My sister Pee Wee and I would sometimes play “The floor is lava” while using the cushions from the “radio bed” as I liked to call it, as flotation devices.  I slept in that room, and I can remember lying in the dark, the only light being from the radio dial and a backlit photograph of Mount Saint Helens that my father had bought for my aunt years before  (I actually still own that picture). The only sound was “Heartache Tonight ” from the radio’s hidden speakers. 

I once owned that piece of furniture too, and it is One of my regrets that I no longer do. 

Anyway, we used the cushions from the stiff  plaid sofa portions of that unit to keep from being consumed to our fiery deaths by the pretend magma beneath us.

I’d often run around in the basement to occupy my time. I was bored after all;  I remember seeing some Bob Hope humor magazines underneath the mattress lid of the footrest ottoman that had been in the basement. 

I didn’t get the jokes.  Especially the cartoon of a bride, asking from the seat next to her groom at a wedding reception for pickles and ice cream.

There was a mini sauna there as well.  It looked like a plastic medieval torture device.  The basement was also adorned by an unfinished bathroom. Unfinished in 1979, and it remained unfinished in the mid 2000s.

My aunt Mae was the owner of the first cable box I ever saw. It was in her living room that I first saw The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, and The Beguiled. (a film which haunts me to this day).  I watched these films later than I should’ve, up on a Saturday evening, as my parents, my aunt Mae and uncle Roger played cards in the kitchen. I can still hear the clinking of glasses, the muffled laughter over whiskey sours and brandy old fashioneds, and the fog of cigarettes. The buzz and crackle from the television that was on a cart in that dining room area, where I first saw the static-hidden teaser trailer for Ridley Scott’s Alien.  

This was a place they entertained themselves so many times over the years. 

There was also a Ben Cooper Wolfman jiggler that I played with often when I was there. Back in 1979, which I think was the last time I was there as a child,  I remember hanging the Wolfman by the little string that was affixed to his back from a peg in the basement pole.  Back in the mid 2000s, when aunt Mae had me over for the first time in many years, I went down into that basement because my uncle Roger wanted to show me something. 

Standing in the glow coming through the basement windows, taken in by the dust floating through the air, wondering if the particles had been there when I was a kid,  I saw something else that definitely had been there in my youth. 

Hanging from the pole was the Wolfman. 

Now, a sibling’s history says that I had a nephew that apparently played with that Wolfman as well,  however he had the decency to always hang it back where I had left it some 20+ years before. I kind of got a chill down my spine when I saw it there. It was almost like that entire basement had been frozen in time. 

I guess in some ways,  it was. 


Friday, April 3, 2026

Technology and Shit


As you can see with this:  TECH, I have a fascination with old technology.  Especially if it is still working and being used successfully.  Now, if you read the link that I have there, you know that I'm obsessed with the media end of it, and maybe the computer end...

The more I think of it, the more it goes from being a mere interest, to being a question of our own humanity in a way. 

Right now Voyager 1 and Voyager 2, are still heading out toward the heliosphere.  They were both launched in 1977.  They're still fucking chugging along. They are powered by plutonium rods (I think), which means they must have small reactors inside them of a sort, hence 50 years of power.  But get this: the information they store is kept on digital 8 track tapes that continually overwrite as necessary.  

They're still sending information back, through radio waves.  The signal is weak because it is traveling across 15 billion miles of space.  That's right, 15 billion!!  So NASA set up antennas that are so strong that they can make sense of those incredibly weak radio transmissions.  Transmissions that take some 22 hours to reach their destinations. 

Here's where it really spins my skull.  In 2024 there was a breakdown with Voyager 1.  It was sending back garbage information.  So they fixed 47 year old technology from 15 billion miles away.  I can't make hide nor hair of what's going on with their McGuyvering, so check this shit out:  NASA

They basically rewrote the code somehow with whatever 1977 computer technology is on that thing using programming here on Earth from the now.  From 15 billion miles away.  

I can't comprehend how smart these people are... I'm lucky if I can tie my shoes. 

But look, man.  Human Americans can reprogram a 50 year old probe that's 15 billion miles from Earth, but we can't figure out how to make a refrigerator, washer/dryer or dishwasher give us 15 solid years without a problem?

These hunks of space program metal are headed toward interstellar space in absolutely frigid temperatures using technology of power, propulsion, computer memory, signal broadcast, instrumentation, heating and who knows what else that were top of the line during the Summer of Sam.  When Ron Guidry was pitching for the Yankees.  When Jimmy Carter was president.  Star Wars was number one at the box office, and Fleetwood Mac's Rumors was the top selling album.  VCRs cost $5,000.00 in todays dollars.

The Voyager twins are continuously sending back information on plasma waves, magnetic fields, cosmic rays, particles, and its own engineering health.  From 15 billion miles away. 

Here on Earth we can't talk to each other and our gubmint has decided just this week to bail on the EPA energy law that was turning the corner on ozone layer depletion, car emissions and power plant releases.  Why?

They felt like we needed to use "beautiful, clean coal" (a fucking oxymoron if there ever was one) more than we were cuz money.  That whole wind, sun, energy thing.... just too much work.  We need to fuck the planet up for our kid's kids because money. 


So we're still learning about what's going on 15 billion miles away in the depths of areas that Ripley and the Nostromo were navigating in Alien (a film only a year younger than the Voyager Twins) while we fuck up our own corner of the Solar System. 


Nice.

Thursday, April 2, 2026

A Nice Anniversary


The first movie my dad (Richard, not Robert in this case) took me to see was April 2, 1982. It was the infamous Chuck Norris slasher/kung fu flick known as Silent Rage which I’ve written about before:  here

Chuck Norris was kind of connecting point for my dad and I, as A Force of One starring Chuck was one of the first movies we ever rented when we got our first VCR. Spectrum aired Breaker Breaker, and it  was probably the first movie that we ever watched together on there as well. 

Were these movies good?  No. 

Ha ha, no.

although Silent Rage will eternally hold a place in my heart because of its extreme bizarreness, killer score, excellent secondary cast, and the fact that I got to sit next to a man who fell asleep because it wasn’t the movie he thought it would be. I think the snores that he emitted were louder than the film itself.  I’ll Never forget those moments at Kenosha’s Lake 1 and  2 in 1982.

These elements, in a way, cinematically at least, go hand-in-hand with pops.  Whatever Chuck became in the political arena in recent years,  he piloted action cinema of the early 80’s and my dad had admiration, being a boxer himself, for Norris’ skills.   This all acted as a bit of a bonding material when Dad stepped into my mom’s life 40 odd years ago.  

Today I’m reflecting on that with Norris’ recent passing and the anniversary of Rage’s release.