Goodbye to Dave

The Vegas Jacket and I went to Seattle last weekend for the going-away party of colleague Dave Ammons, who ended a 3-decade Associated Press career by taking a job with the state.

As is my custom, I wrote and performed a karaoke song for the occasion. It was a version of ``You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling,'' rewritten as ``We've Lost That Ammons Feeling.''

I think it was a showstopper, although the tune is quite complex and required a script AND my laptop to work properly. Thanks to Dave Herron for helping me get all the technical issues right.

It was very hot in Seattle, and wearing the jacket only made it hotter. Fortunately, I packed shorts and bought some comfortable shoes. There were some fine performances by other members of the staff, including Gene, George, Tim and The Pussycat Dolls. But none was dressed theatrically enough, in my opinion.

I have to do this all over again on Friday, when the only other writer here in Spokane, John Wiley, also leaves the company to work for the state. I have written a special tune for him, and hope to figure out how to put a clip on this blog.

Below is another picture from Dave's party, showing Dave, right, and Rachel, left, appearing to enjoy my performance.

Band Names

We haven't done potential band names in awhile. Here's some new ones:

For an Emo band: The Ennui-ners (say it aloud)

heavy metal band: Cannon Fodder

Glam rockers: Stiletto Heels

Boy Band: Extra Virgin Olive Oil

as always, if you take a name, you owe me money

The Spirit of Nickfest

Already we are two months into Nickfest, the year-long celebration leading up to my epic 50th birthday bash next March. Yet only one person has truly jumped into the spirit of regular gift-giving that this occasion requires. Below is a photo of Charlie's latest gifts, a cigar and a floating key holder for my boat.

Thanks again, Charlie, for all that you do.

Incidentally, I finally got fully into the Nickfest spirit myself by buying three tickets to Jimmy Buffett's concert at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas next October. My two brothers and I will roam Sin City again.

To the faithful reader who asked what was behind me in the recent pix from Caesar's Palace, I assume he was talking about the skywalk across the Strip.

And thanks to all of you who saw my recent swimsuit picture and asked if I had appeared in the movie ``Boogie Nights.'' I did not. That was Mark Wahlberg.

At left, Charlie hits another ace.

Tennis Trauma, Part II

The most difficult USTA tennis season of this long and illustrious career has come to an unsatisfying close.

The 3.0 team I captain, which has made the playoffs every year since 1999, just missed this year after one of our singles players was disqualified for allegedly being a ringer. All his wins were converted to losses, leaving us with a 2-4 record and me with a bad attitude. What a load of crap.

This means no weekend getaway for the boys in the Tri-Cities in May. What a loss to their economy, especially the casinos and bars.

Our 3.5 team went 0-6. We didn't expect to do a lot better, because we were playing up. I had to play No. 1 singles because we were short-handed in our final match. At least I wasn't killed.

Above is a picture of me talking to the network guys after our final match.

Climbing the Walls

We recently posed for a photo in front of the climbing wall in our house. The mural was painted by Harold Balasz, a well-known artist in this part of the world.

Of course, you may not have noticed the mural if you were mesmerized by The Vegas Jacket!

With good weather finally here, it's time to bring the Jacket into the sunshine again

One last piece of Nostradamus TV

One more classic television show of the 1960s that gave us an eerily accurate picture of our own future was the original Star Trek.

Fans of this show can' t help but see that it was a virtual blueprint for the presidency of Bill Clinton.

Captain Kirk was clearly the role model for Clinton; a reckless, amoral, violent adventurer prone to self-delusion and rampant womanizing with females of any species.

When seeking a vice president, Clinton chose a Mr. Spock clone named Mr. Gore, a stiff, emotionless creature of logic with no sense of humor, who could easily put people to sleep.

Clinton's Dr. McCoy was his own wife Hillary, an excitable know-it-all who liked telling people off. (this description could apply to many spouses).

Clinton battled both the standard variety of pro-business, small government Republicans (represented in the show by the Romulans), and the blood-thirsty right wing Moral Majority nut jobs consumed by God and gays (presented in the show as Klingons).

Finally, the rest of the nation served as The Guys in the Red Shirts, expendable cogs who always die first.


``If you need to boldly go, it's the first door to the right.''

A Man In Full

For some reason, this picture makes me very, very happy.

Is it the sunshine after a winter of snow?

Is it because I'm in Vegas, crossing from Ceasar's to the Flamingo, with a stop at Margaritaville in between?

Is it the stogie?

How about the mysterious bandage on my cheek?