So yesterday afternoon I was watching CSPAN-2, mostly because I couldn’t fathom leaving the house because of weather and lack of money, motivation, and purpose, and also because all of the other channels I get on my half-assed bootleg cable setup were either showing infomercials, college football, or hunting programs. Anyway, I was watching some kind of award dinner where some group was giving George Bush (the first one) some kind of American patriot award. Even though I hate GBI, I was watching because they were showing some historical retrospective slideshow of his life. And the narrator said “Only 42 other people have known what it is like to be president.” WHAT THE FUCK? GROVER CLEVELAND WAS NOT TWO PEOPLE! I knew about this in the third grade, and someone who makes twice as much money as me can’t look this shit up in an almanac?

Okay, I did look it up in an almanac just to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. Cleveland was the 22nd president in 1885-89 and the 24th in 1893-97. Other trivia about Cleveland:

• He had oral cancer from cigars, and had a tumor removed secretly; an operating room was set up in a yacht in the Potomac, and he had the surgery while he was allegedly on his way to vacation.
• He allegedly fathered an illegitimate child in 1874 with a woman named Maria Halpin. During the 1884 presidential campaign, he never disproved that the child was his, but he never admitted it either. He did, however, offer financial support to the mom and kid.
• He drank a lot of beer. He also had gout, which is directly related.
• He was the second-heaviest president, behind Taft.
• There’s some conspiracy behind his 1908 death, and some modern doctors think he may have had Alzheimer’s. He had a rapidly deteriorating mental state, but some say it was probably too rapid for Alzheimer’s.

I found an excellent site here that has a lot of information on the health of presidents. After reading it, I think it’s pretty clear that every person who was President had pretty severe medical problems. Even JFK, who was supposed to be a young and healthy guy, was on more prescriptions than my grandma took when she was 72 and months from death. I think Carter is probably the healthiest president. Maybe Ford. And I didn’t know Clinton wore hearing aids. Guess I missed that one.

Anyway, nothing has been going on here. I haven’t left the house all weekend, although I think I might go to the book store in a little bit here. It’s just been one of those weekends where sitting around and playing SimCity for 7 hours straight is more interesting than getting out. I don’t know if it’s weather or depression or what, but all I want to do is sleep. And read the almanac. It’s the ultimate zero attention span book. I just wish I had a newer one - this one is the 1999 edition, which means it was really written in 1997 and the most important stuff was updated in 1998.

OK, I need to finish my canned peaches and find my shoes. Oh, I’m also pissed and a bit freaked that MTA might strike in a week, because there’s no way I can walk 4 miles to work in December, or pay $20 each way for a taxi. More on that later.

I forgot to mention that my friend Danielle had her second baby girl the other day, on the 29th. Her name is Delphine Isabeau Mariel Mutsaers. 10 lbs 9 oz. 23 inches! Dani lives in the Netherlands now, so I have not seen her in a couple of years. I want to visit there at some point, although it is about third on my list of countries I want to visit, with #2 being Poland and #1 being Japan.

I had a long conversation with Ray last night about visiting Japan. I know the prices are insurmountable, but they are here, too. If I could get the airfare down, I think I could do it. I’m not interested in the super-high-end restaurants; I would be going to the Japanese McDonald’s and the Tokyo Denny’s, eating in those pork bowl restaurants and from vending machines. The killer would be that I’d want to buy an incredible number of CDs and gadgets. Ray really wants to somehow scam together a trip, and I really, really want to go somewhere significant next year. I think it would cost at least $3000 - a grand on airfare, another thousand on a hotel, and the last thousand on food and crap like taxis and subways. On top of that, I would need money to spend on gifts, gadgets, whores, whatever. I might be able to pull together $3000+ in the next year to blow, but I doubt Ray could. So who knows. It’s something to think about.

I also really want to get Ray out to Las Vegas, but once again, no money. He has a Costco card, or actually I think it’s a Sam’s Club card, from his Mom’s business and he uses it constantly to buy videos and shit when he can sneak them in. I devised this strategy that I think I will use in a story, that he could drive to Las Vegas and just stop at Sam’s Clubs across the country. He would be eating big boxes of pop tarts and nutragrain bars; he could buy one of those camping coolers that plugs in a cigarette lighter and keeps the big cases of Pepsi cool. At night he could pull over and camp out with a Honda Generator and a self-inflating bed. Once he got to Vegas, he could sell us a bunch of stuff for cash, like movies or video games or batteries, and then he would have money to gamble. That could make a good short story.

(The stupid Sam’s Club site won’t give me a national list of all of the locations. I’m paranoid about writing this story, and then it turns out there are no stores west of St. Louis or something.)

I’m serious about the Japan thing, by the way. If you have any stories or tips, let me know. I realize there are a lot of small things I’d have to deal with on such a trip, but I think the biggest would be paying a grand for tickets. And yes, there probably were cheaper tickets at some point, or I could do some crazy courier/supersaver/discount ticket thing, but I think I’d rather pay full price and hold an actual ticket. And tickets are damn expensive these days. I don’t know why, although the mandatory terrorist taxes and increased staffing probably doesn’t help things much.

I wish I was still in touch with my old friend Reece. He lived in Japan for years and always had info on that shit. Ray has a couple of friends there, so maybe I need to crack down and start writing people…

National Buy Nothing Day is stupid. There, I said it. If you don’t buy anything on one day, you still buy the stuff on another day. Unless you get everyone to buy nothing all the time, it won’t do anything. Maybe if you got everyone to buy nothing for a whole quarter, that might work, but everyone stocking up on stuff before and after would average out. And it’s also stupid because the day after Thanksgiving isn’t even the busiest day of the year. It’s usually one of the two Saturdays before the 25th. With the way the economy is, they should be having some kind of “buy everything” day, where you spend as much money as possible.

It’s too cold outside to deal with reality. I guess it’s 36 degrees, but with the wind and the gusts, it feels more like 20. I really want to get a Navy SEAL winter parka with all of the attachments and hoods and sleeves and stuff, but they are like $300. I also have an overwhelming urge to get a snowmobile, but there isn’t enough snow to support one. That’s probably because I watched about half of Die Hard 2 on TV yesterday, because I didn’t want to leave the house and I didn’t have any DVDs I wanted to watch.

Writing continues, although some parts have slowed, but I started a new chapter last night and wrote like 1500 words in 45 minutes. Work on the zine also continues, although I think I am going to change the name to “This Is Not a Fucking Music Zine” or something, because I’m sick of people from Portugal or whatever sending me their crappy tapes.

Happy Thanksgiving. I give thanks that my heat is now working, and I celebrated by staying up until four in the morning working on a short story. Now I’m eating breakfast/lunch before I go to my friend Julie’s house for a thanksgiving dinner later in the day.

This is the eighth year I didn’t spend Thanksgiving back in Indiana with my folks. In Bloomington, I managed to get back north every year, even though some years were a total bitch, especially when I didn’t have a car. And when I made it back, I spent most of the time watching TV and getting slow, not really talking to anyone except maybe my sisters and of course my friend Ray. On the way back each time, I felt ripped off that I put so much time, money, and effort on the line to make the trip, and there wasn’t anything for me.

Once I got to Seattle in 95, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t spend a thousand bucks and two full days on planes just to eat a turkey dinner and then watch TV on a couch for 48 hours. So I laid down the law, and said I wouldn’t come back anymore, which caused some hysterics on the parent front. But even the stock Thanksgiving dinners went away; my mom’s parents were both dead, so the classic trip to grandma’s in Chicago was now just a memory. And the backup, dinner with my stepdad’s family, was also nixed, because my mom divorced him. Even if I did come back, I don’t know what would have been there for me.

In 95, I had dinner with Bill Perry, his wife Jen, and the then-infant Liam. They were also stranded from family back in Indiana, so they cooked a great dinner and we ate in Mountlake Terrace. Nice, small, comfy, and not a bad transition from family to friends.

In 96, I just started dating Karena a month before, so that dinner in Southwest Washington was of the meet-the-parents variety. What she didn’t tell me was that her parents were moving the next day, and needed some manpower to help them dig a few decades of still-unpacked stuff into vans. This was the worst possible move imaginable; every appliance had to move, and her parents were collectors of everything imaginable, all of it still unboxed. It’s hard to pack and move someone else’s stuff, when you don’t know what’s trash and what’s treasure. And it’s even harder when the apartment is a second-floor walkup, and it’s 38 degrees outside. We made at least three or four trips with a caravan of trucks and cars, and the capper was that her dad drove the truck into some grass and broke a water main for the whole subdivision on a Thanksgiving weekend. But after that complete hell, her family had a good respect for me. We had 97 thanksgiving at their new place, and had another great dinner of home cooked food and joking around with her brothers.

By 98, I was dating Marie, and she flew in to Seattle the night of Thanksgiving. We couldn’t find any place to eat, and ended up at IHOP. I think that was her second visit to Seattle, and after I went to her place for Halloween. I was well on my way to moving to New York at that point, and I did in the spring. In 99, we went to her brother’s in DC for thanksgiving, and ate dinner at a fancy Indian restaurant. Turkey Vindaloo - it’s pretty awesome.

In 2000, there was no girlfriend, but me and my friend Rob Reynolds went to the Neptune for dinner. And in 2001, Michael and Marie came into town, and we also hit the Neptune. And now, it’s 2002. That’s the history of the post-family thanksgiving, and I’m surprised I can remember all of that.

Crap, I need to get a move on and haul out of here. Have a good holiday, and don’t eat too much.

I am home. Half-day, holiday, not too bad of a deal. I went to two different wine stores and had a minor breakdown when faced with all of the choices. I bought a German Riesling and a California Merlot. I hope that works.

Larry asked in comments how many people read this journal. Out of curiousity, I will post a quick log analysis. From 9/25 to 11/26/02:

• 105,354 hits for 34.216.9.77/ (a hit being a single HTTP transaction or attempt.)
• 6015 hits on any journal page or the journal directory
• 965 unique domains hitting journal pages or the journal directory

If you’re wondering how I did that last one, I put the logs in a directory and did a grep journal * | cut -f2 -d':' | cut -f1 -d' ' | sort -u | wc

Note that people on the same proxy have the same IP; also people from AOL or other dialups potentially have a different IP each time they dial in. Also, search engine robots scanning for text are in there. That’s not a ton of people, but it’s higher than I would’ve guessed.

Not much else going on. Still no heat, but I saw that the department of housing was here earlier today and gave the landlord a citation, so he’s going to be charged something like $250 a day at a minimum of $1000 until the problem is fixed. There is a truck right outside my window, and I’d imagine they are working on it, but I also wouldn’t doubt it a damn bit if the workers are either asleep in the truck or at the Athens Cafe, getting drunk of their gourds. If the landlord hired them, I’m a bit suspicious of their work ethic. (Not that I should talk. But then shoddy tech writing is different than no heat when it is 30 out.)

I’m reading John Sheppard’s book Bad Men Driving right now, and it’s pretty cool. He has a giveaway going on where if you send him his address, he’ll send you one, and you probably should. I think I’m going to dig out the heating pad and spend an afternoon under my sleeping bag, and finish this book.