Personal
I guess he’d rather be in Colorado
I am spending some time in Denver before heading all of the way west. To that end, I would rather live in the imagined Denver that never was.
2 months ago
I am spending some time in Denver before heading all of the way west. To that end, I would rather live in the imagined Denver that never was.
The video to “Sledgehammer” reads like Teletubbies on angel dust, or a kindergarten K hole. But the lyrics of the song are inspiring and a call to arms for someone who’s down on their luck.
I had some foresight to scan many of my childhood and family photos, before they were stolen out of my car.
I haven’t used Google Sheets in the past few years, but I will say that it has become much more feature-packed and gives Excel a run for its money, and if used smartly, could be a free alternative to a much more expensive program like Tableau or Power BI.
One of the few things I still have that I can treasure from my childhood are the family photos and school papers that my mother lovingly saved for decades.
Sometime during that awkward phase in adolescence where I had obtained a learner’s permit, but did not yet have “off campus lunch” at high school, I bought a “Best of Disco” CD compilation at Hastings in Wenatchee, Washington.
If ever there was a moment where all things brilliant converged into one 60 second montage, it would have to be the German made-for-TV movie “Das Millionenspiel” (The Millions Game).
It seems like the ‘serious’ teenage runaway movie was almost a trope circa 1980. I can think of two in particular, which featured pretty bland, terrible, melodramatic plotlines, yet contained fabulous music on their soundtracks.
I’ve always loved road signs – even as a little kid, many of my drawings featured highway signs or billboards. I love them so much because they tell you where to go, and also where you’ve been. They are the metadata of the physical world, and what they can tell you contextually is priceless.
Backlashes work in all directions, at least they went every which way in the Winter of Discontent in the late 1970’s in the UK.