Dispatch from Cape Liberty: Ai Yi Yi as Fiora would say...

On board. What a cluster getting here. It's way off in the middle of nowhere and the line too get to the unloading was huge. Finally abandoned our car service and dragged our stuff to the terminal where they confiscated 3 bottles of beer. Get them back in 9 days...

Dispatch from NYC: A Day Before Sailing

 

Fiora and Jack are boarding the Titanic this afternoon for a 9--yes, that's NINE day cruise to the Caribbean. "What?" you ask? Long story starting 15 months ago when a wedding-invitation-from-nephew arrived. To prepare, we spent the day wandering NYC, putting about 10 miles on Shank's Mare.

Look for further updates...

2-Stepping Down Memory Lane: Thank you, THANK YOU, Professor Javier Boleyn

Every once in a while it's good to stroll, or in this case, 2-Step, down memory lane...

Then                                                         Now

Lumbering and Logging: An Update on 2-Stepping in Eastern Oregon

My blower made a sound I'd never heard before--but then it was new to me and I couldn't be sure that the "hog-snorting" alert that was booming out of the damned thing wasn't normal.  I punched a couple buttons--"Siri, what the hey is that hog sound?" "It's the App called '2-Steppin' (® i-of-Steven) alerting you to an incoming video link..." "Are you serious?" "I'm always Siri-ous (® I-could-be-in-Siri-ous Trouble for Doing This, Inc.), Jack..." Gads, a phone with a pun-ch line, Just what I knead..."




"Jackie-boy, it is..." Why am I not surprised... "I, Professor Javier Boleyn. You have been quite the difficult subject...I mean client...to track recently." "I get around, Professor." "Yes you do, but not as much as you used to. Reports are in. In the first four months of this year, you waddled, and I will repeat waddled, 671.92 miles." "Not bad, if I say so myself. Guess I'll have a brewski..." "Hold that thought, Jack. In the first four months of last year, you did 988.73 miles, and you were sick for a month!" "But, I've been..." "The only butt that is of concern here, Jackie-boy, is the one growing behind you." "Wail! I'm trying to do better." "Yes, and I'll hand it to you, the first 5 days of May have been harkening to the past. But I've seen this behavior before. How many pounds have you lost in your life?" "Oh, I don't know. Maybe 6 or 7...hundred..." "Exactly."

 "The Scale-email (still ®Boleyn Enterprises) and the soon-to-be-patented Boleyn Enterprises Thought Interceptor (® I hope by Boleyn-Jobs Enterprises, the company every boy dreams of co-owning with a dead icon...) have been reporting on cue, Jackie-boy. The news is not good. According to independent verified and quality-assured sources, you have added approximately 0.44751 pails of LARD! to your carcass since its nadir. WHAT IS THAT ABOUT?"  "Wait, I can explain..." "I'm sure you can, Jack. You always do. Past history is neither a pleasant reminder, nor a positive presage, of what's to come if you don't start 2-Stepping (® Blah, Blah, Blah), and I mean NOW!" "Whoan!"

"Wait, how are you keeping up with me? I thought I'd given you the shake." "Well, Jackie-boy, as I mentioned, I have the Scale-email. That never really stopped. You have the same scale you had last fall, right?" "Whoan. Right." "The Thought Interceptor is a new technology I've been fiddling with. It works particularly well with certain subjects...clients [note to self: Damn. Have to quit calling paying customers subjects...] It's satellite based, of course, and it picks up emanations from simple minds--I mean simple thoughts--so it works quite well with you. You see, Jack, you aren't really ignoring your LARD! gain. You think about it constantly, so the  Thought Interceptor was able to home in on a lumbering object with the thought 'LARD!' coming form his head more-or-less constantly." "Jeesh."

"OK, Professor, I'm going to do better." "If I had a nickel for every time I'd heard that, Jackie-boy, I wouldn't have to be hanging out with the likes of you. I'd be dining on perfectly prepared bacon at the Columbian Cafe, as you apparently were when this was captured by the Rub-EYE Cam, (® SowBelly Systems, side-meat, I mean a side business of PJB Galactic Corporations, made possible by a profit-seeking collaboration with iSaint Steven, himself) " "Wail!"






Here's what it means, Jack. Get serious, and I don't mean Siri-ous! No more martinis, no more basted eggs with a half-pound of spuds. What's with that plate-o-bacon? I know Fiora didn't eat that..."




"And the beer, Jackie-boy. The beer. Remember, your Sole-sister will be watching and reporting." "Sole-sister?"
"Yes, Jackie-boy, another invention. Implants in the soles of all your shoes that tattle on you like a little sister. Say, aren't those your shoes in the Bull ridge?" "Whoan..."

Popping Out and Popping Up: Two Steps with Professor Javier Boleyn

 Simultaneously, separated by 713 miles, "Finally!" and "What the..."

My blower sparked, but Dolly-girl wasn't there to tell me to pick it up. Thelma neither. "Hello, D'Mestiere Invstigations, Eastern Oregon Operations, whatsit?"

"Jackie-boy?" Whoan...

 "Professor Boleyn, how nice talk to you. It's been a while." "A while! Jackie-boy, you probably thought you'd given me the slip. Fortunately, the last time Bar-AM chipped you, she used the latest technology." "Bar-AM? That's been almost a year!" "Yes, and fortunately, she deployed the Boleyn Enterprises "Eye of Saint Steve" technology (® i-of-Steven, a Holy-owned subsidiary of It's Burning Hot Down Here, Inc., which, in turn, is owned by iSaint Steven Enterprises), a specially designed data recorder, not unlike those used on whales..." "Whoan" "...that when out of touch for 3 months, dissolves its way through blubber, floats to the surface, and transmits its data to a waiting satellite in the Boleyn Star Cluster. In your case, the recorder dissolved its way through LARD rather than blubber, but the idea is the same." "Whoan..."

 "Jackie-boy, your 'iofSS' activated today at  44°46'49.40"N..." "iofSS?" "Eye of Saint Steve, and 117°50'4.03"W. What in the name of Bill Nighy are you doing in DuckDown, Oregon?" "It's a long story, Professor..." "And, I'm sure, not a straightforward one." 'Needless to say, let's skip it. Suffice it to say that I've taken on a challenge that beats any you put forward." "Now wait just a range-allotment second, there, Jackie-boy. Hear me out and explain yourself."






"The iofSS burrowed its way though an estimated extra 10 pounds of LARD! today and reached the uplink. Preliminary analysis of the data show a particular propensity for Firestone Walker Union Jack..." "It's been on sale at Safeway..." "and apparently you've been their best customer. I continue. There's also the matter of Blue Diamond Smokehouse Almonds..." "Which I wash down with Diet Coke..." "when you are driving. Apparently you don't believe anything has calories when you are driving. WRONG, Jackie-boy!" "Whoan."

 "In addition, the embedded GPS transponder reports that in January of this year, you waddled 177.54 miles and in February, 133.63 miles." "Not, bad, eh?" "Compared to 262 miles and 251 miles respectively a year earlier? 67 and 53%, Jackie-boy!" "I hurt my knee." "Yes, that was recorded, on February 25. On the 24th, you were at 112 miles. Do you expect me to believe that you were going to waddle 139 miles in the last 4 days of the month? Come on, Jack!" "2012 was a Leap Year..." "COME ON JACK!"

 "Well, I did better so far in March, Professor." "True, Jack, as of March 2, you are at or below your average March, 2012 waddle when you were coming down with the Whooping Cough. I'm just telling you Jackie-boy, it's a slippery damned slope and I don't want to have to open the iSSWMD on you." "OK, what's that? I got the iSS but..." "Weapons of Mass Demeaning." "ROGER."

 "OK, Professor. It's not like I don't beat myself up every morning when I get on the scale. It's just that..." "Whoan." "Professor, you said, 'Whoan?'" "I did, Jackie-boy. If you only knew how many 2-Steppers back slid. Well, I suppose you could if you read my new book, "Sliding to Slovenliness: When 2-Steppers Reject Professor Javier Boleyn." "Whoan." "Wail."

"I promise I won't be one of them, Professor. I'm taking another turn around the block, past the stationery store..." "That's a nice touch for a town..." "...yes, isn't it--and I'll leave that LARD! behind, Professor, I promise." "I'll be watching..." "I know you will. Whoan!"

1 Step Forward, 2 Back: A Christmas Lecture from Professor Javier Boleyn

"Well, Fiora, that was a nice Xmas-eve waddle, if I say so myself. Sure, I didn't cover as many miles as I usually do, but hey, it's Xmas." "Actually, Jack, while Xmas can be rationalized since for some centuries, X was an accepted shorthand for Christ, with the X symbolizing a cross, these days people prefer the proper 'Christmas' over what's become ad-speak." "OK, I'll try and keep that in my bean, but I'm so used to Xmas..."

Just then that little gizmo that Fiora carries with her when she doesn't, which is about 95% of the time, started to make noise and a not-so-familiar face, coupled with a familiar voice, popped up on the screen. "Good evening Fiora.  Jackie-boy. I'd hoped to be able to take some well-deserved rest over this holiday season, but alas, the Professor's work is never done, thanks to the likes of you, Jackie-boy!." "Me? What do you mean, Professor? I've been behaving like nobody's business." "Well, certainly not like my business, I think you'll agree with me there." "C'mon, Professor, it's the holidays." "LARD! knows no holiday, Jack. Let's review the facts."




"Fact #1. You have actual LARD! in your refrigerator, as captured by the patented (of course) In-Door-Salad-Dressing-Rack-Cam (® iFrigidaire, a Holy-owned subsidiary of A Cold Day in Hell, Inc., which, in turn, is owned by iSaint Steven Enterprises). "Wait, I can explain! That was just a joke..." "Sure, Jackie-boy, a joke. It's more like a precipitate off of your LARD!-accumulating body!"  "What? What do you mean?" "ScalE-mail, Jackie, ScalE-mail. The reports have been flowing in. Combined with the reports from your GPS transponder, LARD! is up and miles are down.

"Fact #2. Your PIT tag has been activated at increasing numbers of taverns with increasing frequency." "PIT tag?" "Yes, PIT, Passive Integrated Transponder. Your chip, as it were. Although I had nothing to do with its invention--well, I suppose it's hard to say I had NOTHING to do with it since so many receive inspiration from me--I find it to be a valuable technology. Every time you cross the threshold of certain sorts of establishments, your presence is tallied. Numbers were climbing in BuckTown and there has been no tapering since you've returned to StumpTown." "Oh, boy, this is gonna get worse, I can tell..."



"Fact #3. The Cookie-Box-Cam..." "No, she didn't sell me out..." "...she did...reveals that you not only picked up the cookie box, but you opened it, and once opened, Pandora's Large Jar, or Πανδώρα πίθος, as I like to call it, apparently emptied itself down your accommodating gullet. This box was over-flowing with tasty treats. Now it's history." "Whoan!"



"Fact #4. Beer and potato chips do not comprise the 2-Steps that we know and love, Jackie-boy, unless it's 2-Steps to The Deep End: Losing the War on LARD!, a new book that I have penned under your name, which of course will become a testimony to what I do right and what YOU do wrong. It will be followed by my latest, A Life-line from LARD!: 2-Steps Back Saves the Day, by Professor Dr. Javier Boleyn." "Hey, what's with the Professor Doctor thing?" "Honorary degree from Harvard. While I have, of course, many honorary degrees, I've decided to use this one." "I'm sure it will sell more books." "Not as many as me saving you from your pitiful life will, Jackie-boy!"

"That's it Jackie-boy. The truth in Four acts, a composition based on facts by Professor Doctor Javier Boleyn. What have you to say?"  "What can I say, Doc? Prof? I'm back in the traces. Waddling towards fitness. War on LARD! It ain't over 'til the skinny guy sings. Now where are Bill and Bill when I need them? LARD! is all around me, and so my waistline grows..."










 

Dispatch from Milwaukee: A Day at the Art Museum

Self-portrait, 10.23.2012

Waddling Towards Fitness: An Interrogation Under The Bright Lights of BuckTown

I was out for my constitutional--you know, the EC loop of BuckTown (®D'Mestiere Investigations) that's got old Jackie-boy's tracks worn into it now after seven weeks of sabbatical from Stumptown. I was crossing Emigrant, headed for the north side of the ABCs when I heard "Hold it right there mister!" come out of a speaker. I saw the blue and red flashing reflections in the window of Zimmerman's. Damn, busted for jay-walking, how's that gonna play in the local press.

"You go by the moniker of 'Jackie-boy,' mister? That's a sort of city-slicker handle there, ain't it?" "Well, officer, there are a few people..." exactly one, I'm thinking to myself "...who call me that, and I guess I'm what you good folks out here in BuckTown (®D'Mestiere Investigations) might call a city guy. Let 'er Buck!" "Now wait just a gol-durned minute there Mister What-ever-your-real-name is. Where's the ® after Let 'er Buck (® iPendleton Roundup)? And, while I'm at it, you only say  Let 'er Buck (® iPendleton Roundup) in the few weeks before Roundup, not just any ole time you want.

"Anyway, I'm off the main line here and onto a yard track. There's a See-If-You-Can-Find-Him out on you so I'm takin' you downtown..." "We are downtown, officer." "...Watch it or I'll  stuff a bit into that yapper of yours and haul back on it like John Wayne in a bad oater..." I saw him put his hand on his heater. "...and we don't call them 'heaters', we call them six-guns. As I was saying, I'm takin' you downtown for a sit down and talk-it-over." "Okay, sheriff, whatever you say." "And I ain't no damned sheriff. You watch too many movies." Me?, I'm thinking. Give me a break. And what's with the ® iPendleton Roundup I'm wondering... "You got a problem Mister Jackie-boy with Roundup being part of the Galactic Corporation? Well? I ain't got all day for an answer to that one..." "No, no, I don't have a problem. Whatever you say." "That's better. For the Sake of Sam, you city guys, I never. He said you'd be a complainer..." The fluorescent light that's my brain flicked on. This is the handiwork of the Professor.

I got into the car--Clem let me ride in front at least--and buckled up. I wasn't going to get a 'Click It or Ticket', hell, I was going to be lucky to avoid the jaywalking, even though it was 5:30 in the AM. The radio crackled but instead of  "[crackle crackle]One Adam-twelve" (® Dania Inebriate-Beech), I heard, "That's right, Jackie-boy, it's me, Professor Javier Boleyn, and I got a carcass o' bones to pick with you!" Gads, even the professor has gone all BuckTown on me. "I hear you, Jackie-boy. Your inner monologue is being broadcast like Austin Powers (® iBust-A-Gut Movies). And yes, Austin is owned by the Galactic Corporation, as well."

"Professor, to what do I owe this chat?" "You owe it to some serious backsliding, Jackie-boy. Do you think that just because you are in BuckTown, I don't get the Scal-e-Mails? Do you think that just because you are in BuckTown, the Tap-Cams don't record your consumption? Do you think that by using self-service checkout at the grocery store, Boleyn Enterprises will be unaware of the pounds of smoked almonds you are buying? Hell, Jack, iBlue Diamond..." "NO!" "...yes, declared a 3-for-one stock split the other day. And, I've reports of the increasing frequency with which your walking path passes Up With Donuts. It's a slope greased with LARD!, Jack. Notice that I'm using my most somber, fatherly voice here, and calling you a respectful, Jack, instead of my usual." "But I'm dedicated to this, Professor." "Sure, Jackie-boy. Dedication and a dollar will buy a donut..."

"But Professor..." "But me no buts, Jackie-boy, this is serious." "Let me continue, Professor. I know I've picked up a couple pounds, but it's not back-sliding, really. I just need to get my waddling mileage up. I can do it, really, I can." "Say I believe you, Jackie-boy. How long will it take you to drop these 'couple pounds'? Do you know that I have two--not one, but two--memoirs of yours in galley, ready for me to tell the publisher to let the presses fly?" "What, I've written memoirs?" "Well, technically, you haven't written them, I have. But they are wonderful adulations of me, credited to you, although if one reads the nanoprint one will understand that it is I who actually crafted the memoir." "Oh, like an 'as told to'?" "No, more like a 'Passages of this book, from start to end, were written by someone other than the supposed author and without his knowledge.' Nanoprint is, of course, an invention of..." "Nevermind..."

"So what are these two memoirs I've 'crafted'?" "Landslide of LARD!: How I Used Professor Javier Boleyn's Lifeline to Pull Myself Clear. I suppose I could go ahead with that one even though you are in a serious re-lapse..." "Whoan." "but I need a jacket cover photo of you, before and after my magic, and frankly, the 'after' picture would not be as appealing to my intended audience as it would have been a month ago." "C'mon, Professor, it's not that bad." "Really, Jack? Why do I hear you wail so every morning from the Scale-Mic (® iBoleyn, a holy-owned subsidiary of iSaint Steven Enterprises). "What's the second?" "That's the real problem. It's After the Avalanche: Avoiding Accretion the Professor Javier Boleyn 2-Step Way." That one, clearly, cannot be authored by someone in your current state."

"Now hear this, Jackie-boy. I'll give you 2 weeks to get rid of those 'couple of pounds' (aside: it looks like more than that to me...)..." "...it isn't, really..." "...whatever you say, Jackie-boy. A couple weeks, and if you haven't done it..." "...You'll handcuff my arms behind my back? You'll sew my mouth shut? You'll lock me in a room with no food?" "No, I will simply change the author and print the books. Do you think you are the only whale in Professor Javier Boleyn's ocean? Really. "But what about my personal tale, and my royalties?" "It's all in the nanoprint, Jackie-boy...Now get with it!" "Whoan."

Looking at LARD!: A Lousy Month

WTF doesn't stand for Waddling Towards Fitness this month! Travel takes a toll on habitual waddling, and I posted the worst numbers in a long time. I did waddle every day, but the lack of destination walking took a lot of the motivation and fun out of it. Good practice for the future when I may not have that destination--a 10+ round-trip to work...I can't imagine that the Professor won't be calling soon...

Looking for Jackie-Boy: A NEOR Adventure

I climbed into my rig, fastened my belt, did a quick safety check, and started it up. The radio crackled and I heard "LaGrande Dispatch, Professor Javier Boleyn on Table Rock." Damn. "Professor, LaGrande Dispatch--long time no chat..." What, even LaGrande Dispatch knows him? "LaGrande, it has been a long time, but I'm on a mission. First, are you still 2-Stepping over there?" "You betcha. Let 'er Buck!" "Quaint. I'll send you a few copies of my new book, 2-Steppin' The Round-up: Lassoing LARD With Your Lariat." "Hey, that would be great, but I'll bet that's not why you're bouncing of our repeater this morning..." "Indeed. Have you heard from Jackie-boy this morning?" "No, but I expect him to call in shortly. Listen for..." "LaGrande, 763 on Bone Point." "Why there he is now. Why don't you all take it to Project. LaGrande clear."

"Professor Boleyn? What brings you to these parts? And how do you know LaGrande Dispatch?" "You bring me here, Jackie-boy, and the Professor knows everyone. But let me explain. You have been missing, Jackie-boy. The Star Cluster has been searching, but with little luck. There was a lead last week from Dania, the dear, but then we lost you again. No familiar visits to your favorite taverns, no images on the Sky Cams, the Tap Cams, or the Food iPod Cams..." "You mean He owns the food pods now?" "Do you have to ask, Jackie-boy?" But I digress. Why look at the map of your existence in Stumptown for the last month...WHAT IS UP?"

 

"Well, I never. I never thought I could lose you. Here's what I've been up to, though." "Why Jackie-boy, these walks are in Eastern Oregon and Washington. Eeew, what are you doing there?" "Assignment, Professor. I'm over here looking after some things that need looking after. I told you." "You did, but why  should I believe you? Like that Randall..." "Hey, what happened to Randall?" "I had to discharge him, the sniveling twit. He had the nerve to question the edits I made of his ghost writing. Really..." "Let 'er Buck!" "You aren't going native on me are you, Jackie-boy? Fiora mentioned some native behavior..."

"No, not at all." "Well, in reviewing archival images, I can see that you are doing something, but I don't know what that something is. The Sky Cluster Law Office Cam picked up an image of you and you look, well, "Cowboyed Up... And the Boleyn Enerprises Credit Cam has detected a startling number of restaurant meals lately and the maps I've been able to piece together show a half-hearted attempt at walking." "But I've been traveling, and traveling is hard..." "Save it, Jackie-boy. I expect more than a paltry 6 miles a day. I smell a relapse and it smells like a skunk to me. You'd better get hopping." "But I have to look after things..." "Can it. Boleyn clear."

"Whoan. OK, Professor, I'll get on it. Whoan..."

Waddling Towards Fitness: Where Has The Summer Gone?

Where has the summer gone? Here are the numbers. I'm sure, at some point, Professor Javier Boleyn will find the time in his busy schedule to castigate me for not walking more during the beautiful, but hey, I've been busy.  And traveling. And numbers always seem to go down when I don't have the beautiful streets of Stumptown under my waddling wall of lard...

What are the numbers? 218.39 for the month; 1955.6 for the year. Yipes!

Oh, man, it's the blower. "Yallow." "Jackie-BOY, what in the name of Achilles' heel is going on, here? 218.39? For a month with no rain--just day after day of beautiful sun? Well? Well? I'm waiting, but not patiently, for whatever lame-ass excuse you have to offer..."

"Whoan..."