Hammer Man

We live in an old bank building, built in 1925. My wife (the designer) and I (cheap labor) have divided it into apartments upstairs and a concert/meeting hall downstairs. Sometimes it's fun to look beyond all the renovations at the parts of the building that haven't changed.
Many years ago, I was painting a hallway with frosted iron-frame windows, all very heavy-duty and unchanged since the time the building was built. An old tape machine keeps me company when I'm doing these manually intensive chores. Large coffee cans hold endless collections of cassette tapes. On this particular day, I was playing a collection of music from the mid-20s, by Paul Whiteman, Duke Ellington, and others. There was a strange resonance, the music sounded so poignant, as if the building was listening, too, remembering when it was first built. The Merchants and Mechanics Bank of Bay View was the place where Bay View workers took their hard-earned paychecks. They were a hard-working lot - many steel factories and foundries supported the area's workforce.

One of them remains on the front of our building - a blacksmith with his hammer and anvil commemorate the original purpose of the building. Although thousands of people pass by the building every day, when I point this guy out, most people say "I never knew that was there..."

Thanks for listening and contributing. All dm's answered promptly. @dimbulb52

Truth Doesn't Burn

God's Dumbass Hijacks 911 Remembrances
Muslims Destroy Synagogues; Burn Jewish Holy Books
Orthodox Jewish youths burn New Testaments in Or Yehuda

All in the name of God. WTF?

In my opinion, those who burn books have never read the books they burn.

"And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free " - Jesus, quoted in one of the books that has been burned in his name.

Thanks for listening and contributing. I'm @dimbulb52 on Twitter, and will respond to all direct messages, although I haven't had the time to visit with all those wonderful folks, of late...

Emergency

Emergency

Emergency

Emergency

Emerge. And See

Thanks for listening and contributing. For up-to-the-minute thoughts, wish I had time to twitter.com I'm @dimbulb52

Reverse Prosopagnosia

The strange things that wake you up at night.

Little Red Riding Hood. A strange little girl with a basket of goodies for her grandmother, encounters a wolf - a talking wolf at that - in the woods, and then she suffers a strange case of reverse-prosopagnosia.

The wolf, as you recall had preceded Red to Grandmother's house, and devoured the unfortunate beldam - swallowed the old biddy whole! But then things get really strange!

What was it that kept Red from recognizing her own grandmother? She wanted to believe that the person in Grandmother's house was indeed Grandmother. And then to take her "grandmother"'s word for it that the noted changes in Grandmother's features were actually improvements on the Grandmother she knew and loved. "The better to see you with, My Dear!" Indeed.

Perhaps Red was motivated by guilt, for not having visited her Grandmother as often as Grandmother would have liked. Perhaps her selfish life - indulging in cable TV and WI-FI while Grandmother is living in the fifteenth century on her wooded lot, which would be the site of RidingHood.com Condos in the not too distant future. Was it her dereliction of grand-daughterly duty that kept Red from recognizing a wolf in her grandmother's bedroom?

Perhaps it was the memory of the wolf, a talking wolf at that, that she met in the woods - that set her off. Red was so subliminally shocked that everything and everyone after that looked like a talking wolf to her. And, when she arrived, why wouldn't she have mentioned the talking-wolf incident to the one she supposed was her grandmother? Nooo! As if nothing had happened, she reaches into her basket - "Grandma, I've got a bit of old cheese for you, and a jar of pickled pig's feet -- your favorite!"

And why would the wolf, with an entire grandmother flopping around in his guts, why would he still be hungry after all that?

I'll spare you the part about the axeman coming in and disemboweling the wolf....

The whole thing doesn't wash. I'm sorry, I don't believe any of it.

thanks to http://download-free-pictures.com/ for the illustration.

Thanks for listening and contributing. For up-to-the-minute thoughts, come on over to twitter.com I'm @dimbulb52

The Milwaukee Metropolitan Voices

This summer I was lucky enough to meet up with Trefor Williams, who is the driving force behind the Milwaukee Metropolitan Voices, a 26-voice choir made up of music enthusiasts of all types and all ages. This group is devoted to excellence in whatever music they undertake. Broadway shows, operas, and popular music all provide inspiration for the dynamic performances delivered by this group.

Graciously, they offered a performance at the dedication of Joyce Skylight Court, our latest rehabilitation project. Joyce Skylight Court is a four-unit commercial rental unit with a spacious indoor common area and an outdoor courtyard area, where the concert you see below was filmed.

Here's a promo video we are distributing for the upcoming show. Feel free to share the video and attend the show.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFPPKoYIyFU



And Trefor Williams is the most easy-going and completely insane soul to work with in setting up the shows. It was a pleasure, Trevor - we're all a bit crazy when it comes to music. More on Milwaukee Metropolitan Voices at http://mmvoices.org/


Thanks for listening and contributing. For up-to-the-minute thoughts, come on over to twitter.com I'm @dimbulb52

The First Song

Here's a video I never thought would be made. My wife decided in 2003 (she's the one that likes to play Monopoly with real houses) that we were going to buy a run-down multi-use building (wish I could be more specific... most of the things I have called it over the years are unprintable).

After seven years of hauling, demolition, building inspectors, enviro cleanup, scrap contractors, excavation, construction, building inspectors, reconstruction, building inspectors, contractors, architects, plumbers, building inspectors, electricians, building inspectors, masonry contractors, and a few who were just plain idiots, including building inspectors, on August 18, 2010 we threw ourselves over the finish line, and hosted a dedication concert for the new facility.

Along the way, we made a few friends, met a lot of schnooks, spent a lot of money and time, and the neighborhood for the most part loves the upgrade of their block.

Over the next few weeks I hope to feature more before/after photos - it is quite remarkable what Joyce has done to create this marvelous facility. But, for now, since music is just about the only thing of enduring importance in our lives, here is a 2-minute video of the first song that was sung in the Joyce Skylight Court. Thanks to Trefor Williams and the Milwaukee Metropolitan Voices.



Thanks for listening and contributing. For up-to-the-minute thoughts, come on over to twitter.com I'm @dimbulb52

Trim the Old Man's Toenails

Every night when Syd (a REAL cat) and I are trying to get some sleep, we here this constant "tap-tap-tap-tap" "tap-tap-tap-tap". Gondi the Useless. Gondi the Suckup. Mama fell asleep on the sofa, and Gondi got bored, so Gondi came to circle around the bed like a poltergeist.

Gondi has never read Robert Frost -That cats should "be silent like a snowfall", or some damn thing, here's the quote -- I'll Google it . . . . ok I was wrong, it's Carl Sandburg, and it's Fog, not snow. (I'm not as perfect as I imagine myself):

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

Well, Gondi doesn't sit there looking over harbor and city. He paces frantically back and forth. and he's an Old Old cat, and his claws stick out too much, so when he gets on the laminate floor, it's definitely not a "silent haunch" moment - it's more of a 'Fred Astaire on mixed medications' sort of sound - he goes "tap-tap-tap-tap" an uneven spastic sound that wakes up Syd, and Syd wakes me up. "Gary, he's at it again" We'd just like to take the useless old cat and put him out on the back porch, but Mama would surely put both of us out on the back porch permanently if she caught us doing that to her "iddle boy". So, we endure, Syd and I, and eventually the aging neurotic sissy gets tired and goes back to the sofa, where he belongs.

And, yesterday, it was decided to give the bony old rattletrap a manicure, pedicure, claw-acure, whatever the devil it's called. And Steffie, Joyce's friend, was standing by to take pictures with her cell phone of the Blessed Event.


Ah, "Sleep in Heavenly Peeeyeeece!" At Last! Good Night!

Thanks for listening and contributing. For up-to-the-minute thoughts, come on over to twitter.com I'm @dimbulb52