tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30141230445062989652012-01-29T11:34:48.416-08:00About issues in Napa Valley, the North Bay, California and beyond. About media and communications. About family, history, good writing, wine, travel and everything else. All opinions expressed here are mine. This time it's personal. Endorsements: "...the good ol' Martin sarcasm." - my sister. "... it's only the third blog I've ever read, but it's much better than the other two." -AnonymousBarry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.comBlogger2831100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-92166792072633916832012-01-26T19:42:00.000-08:002012-01-26T19:49:06.265-08:00

It's a play on words, see? I am pondering the condition known as "too much time on my hands." I am pondering this sitting in a room next to at least 75 books I have not read. A few feet away is a guitar that I play so rarely I have no calluses. I have an infinite number of browser tabs at my disposal to explore this new internet thing, a couple hundred satellite channels. And I haven't even

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07004727789801552479noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-23558174768387953872012-01-15T12:21:00.000-08:002012-01-15T12:23:37.721-08:00

A big, strong man dissolved in tears of joy...the climax of an aria...someone you love in a cap and gown...a new high score in Angry Birds - all of these things are just like the others. I speak of the moment of catharsis. Warning: Pedantry follows. Catharsis derives from the Greek word kathairein, meaning to purge, purify or clean. Aristotle used it first in a clinical sense, to describe

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07004727789801552479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-90671928517858169082012-01-09T18:44:00.000-08:002012-01-09T18:46:26.362-08:00

When things go wrong, there is only one thing on my mind - find someone to blame. Being the self-centered yet sensitive sociopath that I am, I rarely find my satisfactory scapegoat to be (a) me, or (b) another specific person So I am happy to report that the deficiency of blog posts on my part of late is not the fault of (a) me, or (b) another specific person But my good friend blame can

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-49261066299832013472011-11-16T22:26:00.000-08:002011-11-16T22:26:48.143-08:00

Forgive me, readers, for I have slacked. It has been almost six months since my last post. I'm not Catholic but I heard those lines in a movie or something. This blog has lain fallow for awhile. I've had no internet since I moved from Cozy Cottage to Rancho de le Dorma  back around the 4th of July, but today I achieved connectivity with the interwebs again so, good God, let me blog! For the

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-49408245238509143342011-05-31T07:40:00.000-07:002011-05-31T07:40:46.972-07:00

A third of my hometown was blasted to splinters. In real life, tornadoes don't give you a bump on the head and send you off to Oz. They drive you to hide and cower and scream, and you hear the sounds of things flying that aren't meant to fly, and your ears pop and your skin crawls and sky is the deepest bruised black and the house blows out from around you. If you're lucky the tornado passes

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-1878104666693627902011-05-03T13:13:00.000-07:002011-05-03T13:13:54.793-07:00

The evangelist on TV was working up a lather, all about the book of Revelation. Smoothly building with interpretations, suspending the climactic resolution. I watched his gestures and his face, and listened to his rhythm. For the last couple of months, I had spent time watching those evangelists on TV, seeking others out on YouTube. A good actor works at his craft, and I am about to play Jim

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-77117238656107806102011-04-18T22:37:00.000-07:002011-04-18T22:37:39.126-07:00

I know there are millions of people suffering somewhere, and I'm sorry about that, but look, I have problems of my own, ok? For example, basic cable. Basic cable is my lack of clean water. Basic cable is my cholera. It oppresses me. Recent attempts at viewing basic cable led me to this list of THINGS I DON'T WATCH TO WATCH 1. Any show with an acronym in the title. 2. Any show with Gary Busey

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-29693663118055183742011-03-18T06:46:00.000-07:002011-03-18T11:58:12.611-07:00

In the beginning, God was mean. Right from the get go it was all about punishment. Adam and Eve, evicted, with shame as their lovely parting gift. Frogs and boils and rivers of blood were doled out to the Pharoah. And let's not forget that petulant moment when God drowned just about everyone in the world. Man, was he pissed that time. Then there's Job, and Abraham, and others who weren't so much

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-24060309952964571142011-02-16T06:06:00.000-08:002011-02-16T07:13:17.323-08:00

There was a revolution while I was on vacation. The protests in Cairo started January 25. I was in London, five days into my ramble and paying not much attention to the news. Won't last long, I thought, when I heard about it. Mubarak won't let it last long. While I went here and there amusing myself, frustrated Egyptians held out for change and 18 days later the strongman was gone. It was

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-4514871634401043362011-02-10T01:16:00.000-08:002011-02-10T02:04:33.945-08:00

Last night a tight modern jazz quartet played on a houseboat on the Vltava river; sax, Gibson guitar, six-string bass and a drummer whose fast hands made his sticks look like the wings of a hummingbird. Between songs the front man chatted in Czech but now and then a phrase in English dropped in - "you know what women do to men" or "we've all been on that road before" - but the music was sexy and

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-16960143132861758052011-02-08T03:50:00.000-08:002011-02-08T04:14:48.508-08:00

Thursday February 3, 2011In BerlinThat date up there - took me a little time to figure out what day of the week it was. Thirteen densely packed days on the road, a few thousand miles traveled, and I have lost track of time. I consider that a vacation success but at the same time I now see the end of the trip and the return to "reality."Berlin is unlike any city I have visited. An architectural

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-32944471654481829002011-02-05T11:16:00.000-08:002011-02-05T11:59:03.120-08:00

February 2, 2011En route to BerlinA thick mist makes Amsterdam even more gray as I join quiet crowds in the early morning.(Note: A tip for travelers - getting a cheap hotel in the Red Light District may seem like a fun idea, but makes sense only if fun takes priority over sleep. Even on a Tuesday night, when all the red light windows were closed, the party in the street carried on to 3am,

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-15137584001507089522011-02-03T15:58:00.000-08:002011-02-03T16:56:02.378-08:00

Wednesday February 3, 2011It's 1:11am in Berlin and my friend Henry is snoring like a banshee if banshees snored and I put on my headphones and write. Thirteen days into my travels some familiar music is nice, and putting words on "paper" is solace.Four days/a lifetime ago, Sunday, In Brugges, I fought my instinct to just keep moving and after a battle with my intrinsic restlessness, I stayed

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-20202417916015915512011-02-01T11:24:00.000-08:002011-02-01T11:53:35.213-08:00

Monday February 1, 2011AmsterdamThere used to be a big name in radio, a guy called Paul Harvey, who would relate a story of some bizarre, usually abhorrent behavior in a foreign culture, and tag the story with the line "It's not one world." That was his code for saying white, Protestant, American culture was different and inherently better. Saner, logical, and just simply right.In fact, it is, in

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-87565795139826147312011-02-01T01:28:00.001-08:002011-02-01T01:48:03.070-08:00

Monday January 31, 2011My last night in Brugges I went back to the Jazz Bar. Patricia, the ex-pat American owner, had told me on my first visit that there would be live music. When I came in the second time she welcomed me and introduced me to her friends, regulars at her place.Torben was a tall, bright-eyed, rustic, self-deprecating Dane with long hair and a beard and a fondness for mushrooms

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-28398270199783140402011-01-30T02:17:00.000-08:002011-01-30T02:38:48.697-08:00

January 28, 2011On the train from London to DoverNeal called him a Lithuanian git as we wandered drunkenly down the street in Soho. The Lithuanian was a massive man working the door at a bar with a band playing upstairs, and he turned Neal and me away, telling us we'd had too much to drink. The rest of our impromptu party had already run up the stairs as we listened to his scolding. Go down to

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-20140829417605265552011-01-25T12:37:00.000-08:002011-01-30T02:39:42.849-08:00

At The Crown & Anchor, Covent Garden, LondonJanuary 25, 2011My unerring sense of direction, which I always mention just before becoming deeply lost, is failing me on the streets on London.In a normal world I can parse out north-south-east-west from the position and angle of the sun. A normal world, however, does not have a pewter sky that gives no clue as to the position and angle of the sun, and

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-50803967906320177302011-01-22T20:53:00.000-08:002011-01-25T12:36:39.861-08:00

New York: January 21, 2011 He sat down beside me at the oval bar on the balcony at Grand Central. He was a young, handsome Latino in a skin-tight T-shirt. His Manhattan arrived and he turned to me and told me his name was Manolo and I settled in to wait for him to put the moves on me.His accent was thick and I picked up every third word as Manolo emptied his mind of every current thought, in the

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-8146245288774045122011-01-17T15:18:00.000-08:002011-01-17T16:23:59.913-08:00

To paraphrase some comedian I once heard: "There comes an age when a person should stop making a big deal about their birthday, and that age is 12." It came as some surprise, then, to have a couple of Facebook friends suggest I should blog about my birthday, because out of all the topics I might think to write about, my birthday would rank about 1,327. I had a birthday. Whoop-dee-frickin-doo.

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-4479611527110899332010-12-15T20:21:00.001-08:002010-12-15T21:13:23.627-08:00

So it's 9 days 'till Christmas and I know I should be wrapping gifts or making sugar plums or getting a tacky sweater out of mothballs, but somehow it seems more festive in my slanted mind to polish off a bottle of cab and try to wrap my weary old head around the whole Julian Assange-Wikileaks thing. So here goes.I think whistleblowers are brave, necessary people.I don't think Assange is a

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-29838244022206227722010-12-02T07:04:00.000-08:002010-12-02T08:12:43.241-08:00

Disclaimer: I suck at science. Chemistry, biology, physics - they all hate me. Sure, I can memorize some shit and pass a test, but any real understanding of why cells divide when it just seems to complicate things, or why protons and electrons continue to hang out together when they clearly have such different points of view, eludes me. Regardless, science intrigues me. It's possible to be

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-30300395313557037102010-11-24T07:59:00.000-08:002010-11-24T10:55:30.439-08:00

Jean-Paul Sarte, the French existentialist philosopher, playwright, novelist, screenwriter, political activist, biographer, literary critic, and atheist, who was also known to make a crazy good stuffing, wrote the famous words "l'enfer, c'est les autres." This phrase seems unintelligible until one realizes it was written in the language called "French." It has been variously translated as "Your

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-5120768796997218532010-10-31T10:12:00.000-07:002010-10-31T11:14:27.116-07:00

Preface: This is one of those posts where I will relate bits of my personal history that unveil the workings of my mind, and as such, may be viewed as (a) self indulgent (b) pathetic (c) whiny, or (d) all of the above. I proceed apace, undeterred.Central thesis: Halloween sucks for me. Argument: Halloween, for me, is like almost every other holiday - front-loaded with anticipation, and rarely

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-74251802002793567682010-10-19T21:16:00.000-07:002010-10-19T22:01:41.392-07:00

My uncle Rodney, the last of the three Martin brothers, died two days ago at 94. He was married for 72 years. It's hard to know if all those years were happy years because he was prototypically the man who wouldn't say shit if he had a mouthful, but I think he was happy. I cite this as a pre-counterpoint - a preterpoint, if you will - to what follows. I will now wage war with the concept of happy

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-41979605406219730032010-08-17T21:39:00.000-07:002010-08-17T22:46:07.201-07:00

The chart above shows that this post has a serious, quasi-academic qualityWay back in 1984, in the Pleistocene era, there was a movie called "The Lonely Guy." I always remember it as an Albert Brooks movie, but it was Charles Grodin who actually played the title character. Sometimes hard to separate one sad sack from another I guess. This was in Grodin's BBSBWCTS (Before Becoming a Smug Bore With

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-67134952833495253792010-08-06T05:23:00.000-07:002010-08-06T06:16:49.453-07:00

If you're young, smart, have a little money and don't believe in God, chances are you're looking forward to the start of your weekend and knocking back a few. In fact, chances are you don't wait for the weekend - according to the latest Gallup survey on drinking habits. Now, you could just follow that link and read the thing for yourself, but I recommend you pour yourself a fresh one and let me

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-85426036433426370242010-07-27T19:40:00.000-07:002010-07-27T20:59:36.511-07:00

Imagine you are rich. Imagine you are rich enough to hire people to do just about anything you want. Imagine you are rich and also stupid and perhaps loathsome. Imagine your stupidity and loathsomeness keeps getting you into trouble. Imagine you are rich and quasi-powerful and your loathsome stupidity gets you into the kind of trouble that may endanger your capacity to continue being rich and

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-39885985667517615862010-07-19T21:46:00.001-07:002010-07-19T22:25:02.054-07:00

If you hang around in any profession long enough, you're bound to fuck up somehow. You get a little full of yourself and you bend the rules. (Enron, Madoff, etc) You start to feel bullet-proof and all-powerful and you think you can get away with anything. (Clinton, Tiger, etc) You make a few enemies who feel threatened and they are happy to climb into your closet and trot out all the skeletons. (

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-70336103351846284712010-07-14T07:14:00.000-07:002010-07-14T23:03:21.869-07:00

Yesterday I heard myself use the phrase "at the end of the day." It's a pretentious phrase that tells the person you're talking to "I have now summed this up for you and there's nothing else to be said+" and one of those verbal crutches that props up the vocabulary in a moment of weakness."At the end of the day" went rapidly from clever new expression to cliche - an overused, a ready-made set of

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-33512500060702914292010-06-27T17:01:00.000-07:002010-06-27T19:34:29.212-07:00

"Warm bodies, I sense, are not machines that can only make money." - Ed KowalczykIn one of the legendary wild west towns - Deadwood or Dodge City or Tombstone - they had a sign at the city limits that said something like "Now entering (legendary wild west town.) Leave your guns with the Sheriff." Having just returned from Las Vegas, I am thinking there should be a sign there offering a place to

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-34535128157671975492010-06-22T03:25:00.000-07:002010-06-22T22:54:48.045-07:00

(Chances are you don't give two shits about the World Cup. But if I let the occasion pass without weighing in I couldn't live with myself, so here goes.)It doesn't take much to be a guru these days. Not in the literal sense of "religious leader and spiritual teacher," but in the modified modern sense of "an advisor or mentor; a leader or expert in a field." You can quite quickly become a guru

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-26674336726944289422010-06-05T04:36:00.000-07:002010-06-05T09:19:48.467-07:00

It's 4:30 in the morning and outside the air smells like summer for the first time, and I am wondering about things. Things like why every apple has to have a sticker on it that delays my first bite, and why some people are trying to provoke a(nother) war in the Middle East, and why the auto-correction logarithm in my iPhone thinks it's more likely that I'm trying to write the word "lice" than "

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-47997474113649994512010-05-24T22:47:00.000-07:002010-05-25T00:48:47.022-07:00

My mother used to call out in the morning from the kitchen, "Rise and shine!" It came in a sing-songy voice that was intended to make me jump out of bed smiling, I suppose, but being an angsty teen (what other kind of teen is there?) it made me want to strangle her.When I look back on it now, it's easy to see how forced was her early-morning cheer. Up every day at 5 a.m. to make breakfast and

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-19521774413976993772010-05-09T09:59:00.000-07:002010-05-09T10:44:14.725-07:00

(My mother at age 18. )I feel obliged to write about my mother today. "Obliged" is not the way you are supposed to feel on Mother's Day. I always wanted to be the loving son who doted on his mother but for some reason, some psychologically complicated reason, I could not achieve the level of devotion to her that I always thought she deserved. She was a kind, patient, giving, thoughtful woman who

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-16432019768189044002010-05-06T06:47:00.000-07:002010-05-06T08:07:48.764-07:00

I would like to make the case today that reality is overrated.Reality is chock-a-block with disease, famine, genocide and infomercials. Reality imposes onerous taxation and rules and foisted Geraldo Rivera on the world. Reality has none of the redeeming qualities we seek out in our entertainments - try hard and success will come to you, the triumph of good over evil, true love always wins, bad

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-65225649918865542372010-04-18T21:01:00.000-07:002010-04-18T22:06:52.429-07:00

Some of my friends know that I was a Girl Scout. Yes, I know, most of the male persuasion were Boy Scouts. I did some of that - Cub Scouts, Webelos (wtf?) etc - but my more formative time was spent tagging along with my mom when she was a Girl Scout leader for my sister and her friends. I learned all about making campfires and paddling canoes and, of course, lanyards, from the Girl Scouts. And

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-32726420081043814022010-04-04T21:05:00.000-07:002010-04-04T22:18:32.815-07:00

I used to watch tons of TV. It was mostly ritual or habitual behavior. Didn't matter much what was on - just a visual chewing gum. Not unlike old people sitting on a bench just watching people go by - something to do, without doing anything. Lately (and especially since I now live in The Hell That Is Basic Cable) I don't watch so much TV. The set's most valued function is to lull me to sleep at

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-84023807684378704142010-03-25T21:27:00.000-07:002010-03-26T00:01:36.159-07:00

I've never studied philosophy but I always thought I should. For someone who paid tuition to make smoke powder blow up in flashpots and learn how ladies' gloves were made from the skins of mice in the Elizabethan age, philosophy seemed like the natural next step in a progression toward an all-encompassing knowledge that was simultaneously quite useless. But just because I never studied it doesn't

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-65634059317446354572010-03-04T21:07:00.000-08:002010-03-04T22:09:24.649-08:00

When I was a kid there were always sweets in the house. Ice cream in the freezer, always. Those great big Hershey bars, the kind about four-by-six inches, stashed in a drawer or "hidden" in an electric fryer that sat unused on top of the fridge. And a cookie jar of some sort, on the kitchen counter, with some low quality and half-stale Fig Newtons or Nilla Wafers or some such. I knew where all

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-76522234175051773452010-02-22T21:35:00.000-08:002010-02-22T22:26:03.641-08:00

Every four years I am reminded of how little I care about sports that take place on snow and ice. Believe me, I WANT to care about Amund Nordlinngsen and his quest for gold in the ski-awhile-and-shoot-a-gun-awhile event, especially in light of him losing 4 toes and the tip of his penis to frostbite during training. I WANT to care about Wang and Chen and their pursuit of the hexagonal obtuse throw

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-59101322912555461232010-02-01T20:44:00.000-08:002010-02-01T21:41:16.630-08:00

A little more than a year ago I had approximately 4,347 channels of TV at my disposal. I was a Dish Network man, with the Ultra Supreme Omniscient package I think the called it, plus a little HBO and Showtime or Cinemax (who can tell them apart?) Today, through actions of my own, I must admit, I now dwell in the nether regions in a place called Basic Cable. Or if there's a level below that,

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-62394985169521594862010-01-20T20:48:00.000-08:002010-01-20T22:20:33.023-08:00

I've made a couple hundred posts on this blog since I started it, and I think the post about online dating got the most reaction. Did I hit a nerve there? Was I the most honest at that moment 6 months ago, and as a result sparked a lot of replies? Yeah, I think so.Since then I had a few dates that originated from one of the popular online sites, and I did my share of cruising around the lake

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-80592142289890371072009-11-28T20:36:00.000-08:002009-11-28T21:56:39.193-08:00

Wow, it's been almost six weeks since I've posted here - but I have a good reason, and I'll write about that another time. Right now, I'm thinking about (as I put one of them into the DVD player) 10 movies I have watched so many times I begin to think I am demented. What is it about certain movies that makes you want to watch them over and over - when there are surely plenty of other movies

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-46009391234789547452009-10-17T08:28:00.000-07:002009-10-17T18:57:32.961-07:00

AVOID SWINE FLU! DO NOT LICK PIGS!!Being the kind of guy who needs to feel plugged in all the time, I use Google Alerts to send me news stories about Napa. Back when I was on the radio every day, it seemed essential to have a fairly good idea of what the heck was going on around town, and ever since I started trying to know what's going on, people started expecting me to know what's going on, so

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-31249637409607664362009-10-07T21:26:00.000-07:002009-10-08T08:02:10.458-07:00

Throughout the annals of history (and it is in the annals where all the best history happens) there have been many well-known stories of survival against the odds. The Israelites and their forty days in the wilderness - that soccer team whose plane crashed in the Andes and went cannibal - Dick Cheney toughing it out in his undisclosed-location bunker - all inspiring in their courage, fortitude

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-55566969645112473742009-09-29T22:08:00.000-07:002009-09-29T22:47:38.730-07:00

This just in:TLC drops Jon and keeps Kate:TLC says the new show, which debuts November 2, will be "Kate Plus 8."Let me be frank here - I have never grasped the pleasure of watching these people try to manage their lives with 8 freaking kids running around. And the few times I accidentally glimpsed some of this "reality" show, it always seemed like mom and dad were barely tolerating each other. So

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-31220040774927141952009-09-22T21:07:00.000-07:002009-09-22T22:02:04.838-07:00

"'In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes."-Benjamin Franklin, 1789Death and taxes. Inevitable. (How about death BY taxes? Some would say that's about to happen, too, but that sounds like the start of a political rant and I've lost all enthusiasm for those.) Funny that these two things we all know are so certain are the things we are so poorly prepared for most of

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-90288808201380172562009-09-17T22:53:00.000-07:002009-09-17T23:45:16.453-07:00

I haven't had any dog bites or bee stings, but for some random reason I feel like making a list of a few of my favorite things, in no particular order, and here she goes:1. Almonds2. When people laugh so out of control they snort3. That first morning it smells like fall, or spring, or summer, or winter4. Email5. Manhattan (New York, not Kansas)6. A long, heavy overcoat7. When somebody drives one

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-38375437545557191602009-08-31T22:02:00.000-07:002009-08-31T23:16:18.008-07:00

It was random but today I got an email (by mistake, I think) and someone sent me this news story with the headline:Newsstand sales of US magazines drop 12 percentNEW YORK (AP) -- Consumers are buying fewer magazines at newsstands given the deep recession and the availability of plenty of free reading material online. An industry group said Monday that single-copy sales tumbled 12 percent in the

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-19366917258447862212009-08-12T00:08:00.000-07:002009-08-12T09:24:15.877-07:00

When I was a senior in college majoring in theatre, my directing class project was a play called "No Exit" by Jean-Paul Sartre. This was a precious choice, a choice fraught with meaning, because I needed so much to do something outrageous and avant garde and non-Midwestern. This was the choice of a pretentious young guy who wore 1940s suit coats from the Goodwill and smoked Gitanes and Russian

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-55034339575767169102009-08-03T14:10:00.000-07:002009-08-03T22:01:09.528-07:00

One of the most profound changes that occurs when you end a long term relationship is the sudden discovery that you are alone in the bed. This is assuming, naturally, that you slept in the same bed in the first place, and didn't have separate rooms, Rob and Laura Petrie twin beds, bunk beds, hammocks, or some other crazy arrangement (because married or otherwise partnered people who don't sleep

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-40978213902207309752009-07-26T19:58:00.000-07:002009-07-26T23:15:17.415-07:00

There's something really "special" about putting yourself out there for scrutiny in a public way. I do it in my job, I do it in this blog, I do it on Facebook, I do it as a performer - and in all those formats I am completely comfortable. Online dating, on the other hand, is different. You present yourself - not a character, not the "you" of your job, but your very own real self - and implicitly

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-84671979353755445972009-07-08T22:47:00.000-07:002009-11-03T22:44:44.553-08:00

Taking note lately of how mortified young parents are of their children's behavior, and feeling compelled to say "it's ok, young parents."We've all had the opportunity to witness the fits thats little kids throw. In the line at Target, at a restaurant, parking lot, nursery school, or just in the living room when friends are visiting - there is no physical place that is off limits to the toddler.

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-18662946883038661952009-06-28T08:10:00.000-07:002009-06-29T09:54:51.674-07:00

Many people are recipients of transient hateful juju from me in the course of daily life. There's the twit in the grocery line who waits until the clerk announces a total before they even begin to look for their wallet, surprised (again!) by the need to pay for the stuff. There are the hosers who can't figure out how a 4-way stop is supposed to work. And dimwits who talk in a movie theater like

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-81681173139308103912009-06-25T22:44:00.000-07:002009-06-25T23:23:57.161-07:00

OK, I just turned on the TV and Larry King is getting reactions to Michael Jackson's death by interviewing Jesse Jackson and Donna Summer. I mean, that puts it all in context, you know? I can't wait to hear who's next. Can I?OK, take two. This week, three celebs have passed on - Ed MacMahon, Farrah Fawcett and now Jacko. It's snarky to be rude to the dead, but if we're honest here, we're talking

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-60894351991625524312009-06-14T17:13:00.001-07:002009-06-14T17:48:29.018-07:00

Resolved: I am vain. I readily admit to being "excessively concerned of (my) own appearance." I have, for as long as I can remember, wanted to look good. Maybe being a kid who got called "fatty" when I was little contributes to placing an importance on looking good. Or maybe it's my general and ongoing need for approval. In any case, I am vain and I try to make myself look as good as I

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-15138569981040725032009-05-28T21:55:00.001-07:002009-05-28T22:33:29.581-07:00

This story by Mike Treleven appeared in the May 28, 2009 edition of the Napa Valley Regster..."Napa County jail is a far cry from the honeymoon suite at a tony wine country inn and spa.On Tuesday around  5 p.m., Napa County Sheriff’s deputies responded to a call of a fight behind the Villagio Inn & Spa in Yountville.A woman told deputies that she suffered a cut lip and bruising on her face in a

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-92073269633623012262009-05-09T22:42:00.000-07:002009-05-12T23:21:47.107-07:00

So jeez, I am feeling a little contrite because I have neglected this blog. Feeling a little like I have let an old friend fall by the wayside while I have been spending all my time with someone new.I even got needled by one of my (few) readers today - "Wow, no blog post since April 2!"  Feeling a little frivolous and superficial because my good old reliable Blogger blog here has fallen victim to

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com181tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-86248651645207648672009-04-02T23:38:00.000-07:002009-04-02T23:59:24.192-07:00

I know it's kind of a cop out to make a blog entry that is just entirely referential like this, but it just struck me that "The Straight Dope" deserves some props. I get an email once in awhile with some SD teasers, and I almost always take a look. I mean, he/they have been at it for decades, answering the dumbest and cleverest of questions, and never losing the wit. Example:Dear Cecil:You may

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-23403159932284939592009-03-22T09:55:00.000-07:002009-03-22T11:37:03.132-07:00

Ever consider how much of your time and/or money you spend on hair? Hardly a day goes by you're not doing something to it, for it, about it, or with it - except on those days you can't do a thing with it. You got to trim it, comb it, brush it, shave it, shape it, smear something into it, wash something out of it, cover up the gray in it, curl it, straighten it, apply a chemical to make it grow,

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-34292930540991042002009-03-14T09:19:00.000-07:002009-03-14T09:56:36.409-07:00

If someone told you to act like a gay man, what would you do? Chances are your first thought - if you are not, in fact, a gay man - has something to do with a limp wrist. Maybe you conjur up an image from a movie - Nathan Lane or Hank Azaria in Birdcage, perhaps, or some cabana boy character. Pretty easy to act like a gay man, right?I am cast as a gay man in a Neil Simon play called The

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-55138722121380397842009-03-04T21:33:00.000-08:002009-03-04T22:14:32.803-08:00

In about 24 hours I will get on a plane and shoot through the night and when morning comes I will be in the most exciting city in the world for me - New York, New York.A trip to New York means theater to me. My first two visits in the late 70s gave me the unquenchable memories of seeing an unknown young actor named Kevin Kline on stage with a Broadway legend John Cullum and an understudy, Judy

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-85864517051005406992009-02-22T16:36:00.000-08:002009-02-22T21:24:13.657-08:00

Note: The "dirty" words used in this post are only suitable for an "adult" audience. This, of course, is really silly, because anyone who was actually an adult wouldn't get nearly as many laughs out of the subject matter, so I don't know who this post is suitable for. Maybe you? Maybe no one.Most of my most crisp foul language just comes blurting out without any thought at all. In fact, if I ever

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-88816332874047377022009-02-10T22:18:00.000-08:002009-02-10T22:33:11.742-08:00

Somehow, somewhere in my ramblings on this blog, or maybe on some Facebook note, I gave someone the wrong impression.I hate it when I mis-communicate. I mean, that's what I do - I communicate for a living. So when I get it wrong, I feel bad. Or badly. A person who communicates for a living should know the grammar. Oh well.The problem, I am told by a friend, is that I wrote something about money.

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-72182558356496525042009-02-07T09:14:00.000-08:002009-02-07T10:03:13.618-08:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about the need for approval - why some people seem to have zero need and others have an unquenchable thirst for it. I admit I am closer the the latter description than the former.It's easy for a person to say that they don't care what other people think, and I've known a few who really walk that talk. People who wear outrageous clothes they find in dumpsters, and

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-67924575423096322902009-01-24T08:09:00.000-08:002009-01-24T11:53:52.188-08:00

So Barry Obama (I like to call him "The Big O" now) is talking up his economic stimulus plan. Looks like we're going to get stimulated to the tune of $820 billion. Or is that $820 trillion? $820 octillion? Is that dollars or pesos? Well, who's counting? Wait - maybe that's how we got into this mess...Anyway, this whole stimulus thing is way too complicated for a simple guy like me, but the way I

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-13629904102458236652009-01-18T11:33:00.000-08:002009-01-18T11:59:55.513-08:00

Here's a useful (?) tip for a way to get your bearings when you have that thought "What the hell am I doing with my life?" or "Where does all the time go?"Take a look at your Google search history. (If you use some other kind of search engine - well, that's so 20th century I don't even know what to say. Maybe you should skip reading this and go see if "Fibber McGee and Molly" is on the radio.)

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-29017323619039024352009-01-02T09:34:00.000-08:002009-01-02T10:23:43.883-08:00

Today marks the start of Year Three of this here blog. Over the last 24 months there have been 223 items posted. A number of them fit the category of "not that bad," while others are not worth the paper they were never written on. Overall, the global response to this blog continues to be:Whoop-dee-frickin'-doo.Now that we have concluded the annual report, let's move on to today's topic - the New

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-75248232138135927492008-12-30T12:10:00.000-08:002008-12-30T13:17:35.296-08:00

Since it is almost the New Year, it's appropos to point out new laws that will take effect on January 1, 2009. There are always a lot of handy new laws each year. The one that is getting the most attention now is the new rule against texting while driving. What's next? I suppose they will ban me from other things I currently enjoy while driving, like making waffles and quilting.Fascists. But

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-35317860414684308092008-12-23T07:51:00.000-08:002008-12-23T08:57:16.149-08:00

I have been recently accused - fairly - of writing something "dark" during the holidays. So today, I hope to redeem myself with a true story that always comes to me this time of year. It's a "true meaning of Christmas" story.Like so many of my Christmas memories, it features my dad. Avid readers of this blog with fastidious memory banks will recall last year's item that detailed Daddy's lack of

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-22117244355702234462008-12-21T10:02:00.001-08:002008-12-21T10:04:07.977-08:00

Having recently become a person who spends a lot of time alone, and this being something that is new to me, I thought I would pass on some tips on the topic.  1. Some so-called experts will say you should not drink alone. Hogwash. A much more realistic and useful bit of advice is this: always have one glass of water to match each drink. This guarantees two things: lots of trips to the bathroom,

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-9563509329680882802008-12-16T07:46:00.000-08:002008-12-16T08:30:56.297-08:00

There comes a time every Christmas season when I just want to hit fast forward to January 2 and put it all behind me. Some years that moment comes early - say, November 1 or so when that first stale Christmas song comes leaking out of the speakers at the mall. Other years, like this year for example, I've made it all the way to the 10-day line before getting the "let's just get it over with"

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-29639004935804878142008-12-04T08:59:00.000-08:002008-12-04T10:08:57.333-08:00

I come to you today with a saddening report on the decline of a once robust industry. American automobile manufacturing? The steel industry? Textiles? No, all this is old news. The failure I have discovered this week is in an industry that is not American, as far as I know. This crisis is in what I assume must be an industry of the great and powerful Chinese - the fortune cookie fortune

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-46534281054701842232008-11-27T10:57:00.000-08:002008-11-27T11:44:15.190-08:00

So here we are again. It's Thanksgiving Day, which means the Christmas decorations have been up for about a month now and I am already tired of hearing Christmas songs at the Starbuck's. And it means within about 6 hours I will once again have that feeling that my ribs are about to crack as my stomach expands like a competitive speed-eater - that feeling I have vowed so many times to never

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-5415339879203373232008-11-08T23:23:00.000-08:002008-11-11T11:01:48.576-08:00

There's something sad about the fact that I can't actually believe we have elected a black man President. And it's even more sad to realize that I am surprised that no one has taken a shot at him yet.(We interrupt this message to clarify that sentence one above does not indicate that I think there is anything wrong with a black man being President, or that I don't like black people, or that

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-6075801260162444762008-10-22T07:42:00.001-07:002008-10-22T07:47:40.511-07:00

With the big Presidential election looming, and the positions of the candidates all laid out in black and white (oops, that didn't come out right) or perhaps soon to be laid out in red and blue, this useful visual aid is appropos. Most of us may struggle a little with international affairs, so thanks to one of my tens of faithful readers who provided this for our edification. Said provider will

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-55798492375741160532008-10-19T10:31:00.000-07:002008-10-19T11:46:17.433-07:00

Sometimes on Sundays I am transported to a place that was called Gene and Darlene's.(OK, that sounded kind of Shirley MacLaine. I am not talking about out of body experiences here. It's a memory, ok?)Gene and Darlene's was a bar down on Shoal Creek south of Joplin. The building still stands (photo proof here, taken August 2008.) No telling how many other names the place has had since it was Gene

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-16470607225542279372008-10-10T06:31:00.000-07:002008-10-11T06:51:37.794-07:00

Most of us have never seen a week in the world like this one. Here we are three weeks out from the most notable election of the post-war era - financial markets in free fall and there's no bottom in sight - and then the Norwegian Nobel Committee gives the 2008 peace prize to Martti Ahtisaari, the former Finnish president. I mean, just one whipsaw after another. I can already hear the water

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-59860905837682859122008-10-03T07:16:00.000-07:002008-10-03T07:32:47.273-07:00

I watched that debate last night and I have made up my mind - I'm voting for Tina Fey for sure.Reason number one: she is just amazing! Imagine trying to be a TV star on two shows at once AND run for President. That takes a lot of gumption, get-up-and-go, and good old American values. Apparently she lives in Alaska, too, which means a lot of really long flights to New York for the TV shows, so

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-45809238668141259602008-09-29T06:54:00.000-07:002008-09-29T07:21:22.625-07:00

Cool Hand Luke is the quintessential Paul Newman movie for me. It brought together all those qualities that he portrayed in his best characters - strong but damaged, sly but true, the blazing smile that floats up out of a deep well of sadness. And always cool, always cool. Newman had one of those attributes you cannot teach in acting class - charisma - and he had a trainload of it.A list of his

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-58377042163948053332008-09-23T07:08:00.000-07:002008-09-23T07:38:03.893-07:00

I know a person could be writing today about Obama and the Tom Bradley effect, Palin's "pay for your own abortion, rape victims" policy, the ramifications of a nuclear Iran, parallels between the crash of '29 and the crash of '08, and other urgent stories du jour. But I have a nagging question that trumps them all:What the hell am I supposed to do with Facebook?I understand that it's a social

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-80482342882267135872008-09-18T04:55:00.000-07:002008-09-18T05:51:50.298-07:00

An observation: people who have car alarms that go off at 4:30 in the morning two days in a row and cause certain people to be awake way earlier than they should be, especially when certain people can never get back to sleep once they're awake, should be rounded up and exiled to Las Vegas.What's the deal with car alarms anyway? (The previous sentence brought to you by Jerry Seinfeld.) There was a

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-47562873997301093142008-09-11T06:35:00.000-07:002008-09-11T07:34:47.295-07:00

Seven years ago this morning everything changed.Seven years ago this morning my son was just a goofy high school junior, and my daughter was only 12. Seven years ago this morning I could still run three miles in 27 minutes. Motivated by what happened seven years ago this morning, my son became a Marine, learned to run three miles in 20 minutes, and prepared for his time in Iraq. I can recall, if

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-74128470842454057792008-09-05T07:06:00.000-07:002008-09-05T07:32:52.654-07:00

Let me make it crystal clear at the outset, I've got nothing against white people. Many of my friends are white, in fact, and I am married to a white woman and we have white children together. As a reader here, you may be surprised to learn that I, myself, am white as well.But when it comes to whiteness, there's nothing that can compare with a Republican National Convention.If you have been a

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-79828252241293900502008-09-02T07:10:00.000-07:002008-09-02T12:24:02.962-07:00

And so the grand three-day weekend winds down and I return to work today refreshed, relaxed and rejuvenated. This feeling will last until about 10:30am, but I will enjoy it while I have it.I will have the pleasure of looking back on an eventful Labor Day, when we wondered whether it was VP nominee Sarah Palin or her teen daughter who had recently been in it. Labor, that is. (Hahahaha, funny joke

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-66740559345079198132008-08-26T06:59:00.000-07:002008-08-27T07:33:22.018-07:00

Kind of embarrassing that I missed this one, a story that popped up some 5 months ago in March 2008, but it's still blog worthy.Moses Was High on Drugs, Israeli Researcher Says.Psychedelic Cocktail May Explain Vision of the Burning Bush, Professor SaysThe professor in question is Benny Shanon. He says you can find the same plants on the Sinai Peninsula that you find in the Amazon, where these

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-38280065946998497302008-08-21T07:31:00.000-07:002008-08-21T16:02:16.563-07:00

Once in awhile you get a situation in sports where somebody is playing for vindication. A big contract for an aging slugger- the golfer with the reputation for choking - or more currently, the whole Brett Favre mania. In all these cases, that player comes out to prove he or she's still got it, deserves to be there, is truly the best. There's a vindication story playing out right now in China, in

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-35242634611038394132008-08-19T07:00:00.000-07:002008-08-19T07:47:29.086-07:00

The expression we've all heard is "you can't be too rich or too thin." I suppose that gets said a lot around the tennis court at the country club, the changing room at Sak's? I suppose it draws a wry smile every time. Or is it really said in the aisles at Target by people who are at no risk of being too much of either?The expression we've never heard is "you can't be too smart," because we all

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-86302244547453413422008-08-11T07:09:00.000-07:002008-08-11T10:09:04.453-07:00

Indifference rapidly turns to rabid partisanship as soon as the Olympics offers its first big moment, and it looks like that's happened, so let's pump our fists and do a little "U-S-A! U-S-A!"In case you missed it, some French swimmers claimed they were going to "smash" the Americans in the 4 x 100 freestyle. (Imagine that, French bragging.) The race turned out to be spectacular, with the USA

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-74409026585797604582008-08-07T07:07:00.000-07:002008-08-07T07:44:58.364-07:00

I am proud to present my 200th post on this here blog, entitled "George Washington's crotch and other curiosities." You're welcome.George Washington - what do we know? He chopped down the cherry tree (not really) and he threw a dollar across the Delaware (unlikely) and later he crossed the Delaware (maybe to retrieve the dollar?) and he had wooden teeth (true) and he married for money (true) and

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-68781000600730731062008-07-29T07:00:00.000-07:002008-07-29T07:57:41.003-07:00

It's more than a little bit sad that bookstores are going the way of the dodo. Not only are times hard for the independent booksellers, but even the big guys like Borders and Barnes & Noble are struggling. (Look for those two to merge and share the pain.) In little old Napa not that long ago there were at least three bookstores downtown. Now the total is zero. Their sales fell as rents rose. On

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-31229063626152314912008-07-24T07:31:00.000-07:002008-07-24T08:10:13.023-07:00

It seems that I have three basic states of consciousness lately:Mildly dissatisfiedFully peevishOverly sentimentalOh, and I guess there is one more plane of existence for me - inebriated.Today I seem to be trending toward fully peevish, and it was all set off by what I overheard while on a lunch run yesterday. But let me start at the very beginning, that's a very good place to start. (Cue the

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-69204148171247905042008-07-20T08:02:00.000-07:002008-07-21T08:28:46.322-07:00

The was a good book a few years back (ok, I checked and it was 23 years ago. That's my new standard for "a few years" I guess) titled The Accidental Tourist. Anne Tyler wrote a character who was a travel writer for people who don't like to travel - the kind of people who always stay at a familiar hotel chain where there are no surprises, and seek out McDonald's and Applebee's so they're not

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-1328885734028625052008-07-12T07:02:00.000-07:002008-07-12T07:45:38.330-07:00

Ask a dozen people how they define vacation and chances are good you will get something like 1 to 12 different answers. Some like a week at the lake, doing whatever it is people do at lakes. For others there's nothing better than the sun/sand/disposable fiction/rum-based cocktails combination. And then there are your guide book-toting types who need to visit monuments and museums. I admit I fall

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-68556020846779953502008-07-09T08:12:00.000-07:002008-07-09T08:17:13.635-07:00

Today we are back home after two weeks on vacation. Blessed home! The entire two weeks were spent in big cities - big, humid cities - and our quiet, modest abode has never seemed so perfect as this morning.Do I have tales to tell of my travels to far-off lands? You betcha. More soon

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-18202065230281180092008-06-24T07:09:00.000-07:002008-06-29T12:52:54.975-07:00

So you're running pretty good all in all, but one day something's not quite working right. You've got a drip, or a squeak, or a pinch. Something's bent. Front end out of line, or you're not hitting on all cylinders. You take yourself into the shop and the doctor seems a little too serious for your comfort. You get to take some unpleasant tests, and you worry that you're getting worried over

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-18934633537625268082008-06-18T07:14:00.000-07:002008-06-19T07:42:18.353-07:00

Nominee for the biggest lie of the modern era: "50 is the new 30." This whopper is right up there with "I am not a crook," "I did not have sex with that woman," and "Mission accomplished."I think there may be whole legions of writers working for fashion and lifestyle magazines who sit around all day coming up with "blank is the new blank" comparisons. They are the Typhoid Marys who spread the "is

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-54689496248718117982008-06-11T07:06:00.000-07:002008-06-11T11:48:20.214-07:00

For a short time yesterday I became part of the holstered set. I have been issued a Blackberry at my work, and tried out the nifty clip on holster. Not wanting to look like yet another guy with Batman utility belt fantasies, I have heretofore resisted hanging anything from my belt, and have generally resisted using the word "heretofore," but hey, things change. (Future iconic image of the earlier

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-67516918472626172072008-06-05T07:00:00.000-07:002008-06-05T07:40:09.273-07:00

Atticus Finch taught his children well, that it's a sin to kill a mockingbird."Mockingbirds don't do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. They don't eat up people's gardens, don't nest in corncribs, they don't do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That's why it's a sin to kill a mocking bird."One thing I can't stand it's birds nesting in my corncrib.I have always been impressed by

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014123044506298965.post-8268742691083296352008-05-30T18:55:00.000-07:002008-05-30T19:03:43.677-07:00

I'm no fan of Pres. Bush. We all know he lacks skills, is a general daily embarrassment, and an example of the Peter Principle in action. Nonetheless, history will probably show that he was right about a few things, and one of them may be the thing he is most vilified for-namely, the war in Iraq. Thanks to my man Chris for passing along this item that I would otherwise have never seen.Terror On

Barry Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01139647366532159672noreply@blogger.com2