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..."

Dateline Stumptown, July 2012: Waddling Into Summer

"OK, Jackie-boy, here are the numbers. Not bad, although I'll have a lot more to say soon enough..."

"Professor, can't you just say, 'OK, 283.39 miles for the month puts you at 1,737.21 for the year. Good job, Jackie-boy?"

"Why would I lie, Jack? Could you have done a better job?"

"Whoan..."

July 5, 2012: I did what you wanted to do but were afraid to...

 Sometimes a man has to do what a man has to do. July 5, 1937. SPAM hit the shelves. What the hell is SPAM? A delicious and nutritious blend of pork, potato starch, salt and preservatives. If you opened a can packed in 1937 today, it would still be full of wholesome goodness.

 So, just about the time the noon whistle would blow if you were working in Austin, Minnesota in 1937, or maybe today and certainly in Berea, Ohio in the 50s, I took shank's mare out for a spin to the Safeway. I found the canned meat section--it has an overhead sign directing you. There were a lot of choices. Bacon. Hickory. Low Sodium (why bother?). SPAM Classic. That's for me.

 Back in my office, I popped it open. No more key stuck to the bottom of the can. No more tab to hook the key on. No more winding the metal seal around the key. Just a quick snap, pop, and the aroma fills the room. As always, SPAM is easily manipulated. You can slice it, dice it, or carve it into the Venus de Milo.

 But the best thing to do is chunk it up and enjow it. Just SPAM. No bread. No cheese. No mustard. No nothing. Just SPAM out of the can.

Then wash it down with a Pliny the Elder. I know, it says Fat Tire on the glass, but believe me, it wasn't...

Happy Birthday SPAM. Unfortunately for those of us who enjoy you, the odds of seeing 100 decrease with every bite of you we take!

Waddling Around Stumptown: Where Did June Go?

Here are the numbers for June--not bad considering travel and the continuing effects of whooping cough...Bzzzzzzz-Bzzzzzz. I knew it. "Yallow." "Jackie-boy..." "How did I know it would be you, Professor?" "You learned from experience? Wait, I, Professor Javier Boleyn, author of my newest best seller, Steppin' Into Summer: A 2-Steppers Guide to A Bathin' Suit Body, is not ready to give you that credit."

"Droppin' your Gs there like a certain former Alaska Governor, aren't you?" "Hush if you know what's in your best interest." "WILCO. OK, so the month sure didn't start so hot, but look how I finished." "Exactly, Jackie-boy, let's look at how you finished."

 "And the map doesn't do me justice! I also walked in Wenatchee and Corvallis." "Yes, those are walks to be proud of, I'm sure. In Wenatchee you did manage to eke out 7 miles one day, but only 4 the next, counting waddling to an Italian ristorante for a not-exactly 2 Steppin' meal." "Well, at least I waddled." "True, but Corvallis, or Cortopia, as I call it, come on, Jackie-boy. You waddled down to meet Beluga Slim and you downed not one, but threee beers by Russian River." "You have a typo, there Professor." "It's emphasis, Jack, emphasis."


"But don't distract me. Last weekend, the Fridge-O-Cam (do I still have to write in here that the Fridge-O-Cam and all other technology is a registered trademark of Boleyn Enterprises, a Holy-Owned subsidiary of iSaint Steven?) spotted a growler of Pliny the Elder (that one belongs to Russian River Brewery, Santa Rosa, California, and no one will argue with that!) in your refrigerator and only one Pliny drinker in the house. The next day, the growler was reported empty by the Growlometer..." "GROWLOMETER?" "...Yes, of course. How else could Dr. Rachel S. Graves, MD, and I monitor your intake?" "Whoan."

"I continue. Last night, at 11:30 PM, the month almost over, the LaCroix Living Room Monitor, recorded this scene.  Really. 11:45?" "What, Mittsy is wired?" "Actually, Mittsy is wireless, but as you know, if Mittsy doesn't have the technology, it's not worth having. But that's not the point. The point is, Jackie-boy, that even though the Scal-Email showed you up 1.5 pounds, you still chose a night cap. Really." "Yes, really. Frankly, Professor, I was having a good time and, well, the hell with it. I've changed. I'm back on my good behavior. I went for 2 walks today and..."

"And, you ate this at the Word of Mouth Neighborhood Bistro. A great way to start the month, Jackie-boy."

"Whoan!"

Lard Have Mercy: A Match Made in Heaven!

B-zzzzz, Bzzz, Bzzz. "Dolly-girl, someone's at the door and I'm right in the middle of a Rex Parker that's vexing me no end. Could you get the door?" "OK, but since when did you, Jack D'Mestiere, start using words like 'vexing'? Oh, that's right, you are channeling Rex right now. You'll be back to 'tying my bean up tighter than a steer on branding day' in no time..." "I'll tell you, a guy just can't win. Hmmm, 9 letter word for 'perplexed', starts with B-E-F..."






"Jack, it was the postman. He brought you a package. It's from Dania Inebriata-Beech!" "I thought she was down singing Swanee River with her sister. I know she was because Cuco was calling me on your pocket blower telling me he was pining for her while he was trying to keep Bambi out of his orchard. I suggested..." "You didn't tell him to put Bambi on the hot lead express, did you?" "You bet I did. I was down at the watering hole at the time. Told him I'd lend him my heater to do it. Or, I know some guys..." "Go back to the puzzle, Jack. Quit befuddling me." "That's it! Thanks, Dolly-girl!" "Honestly, Jack. If you could see yourself through other's eyes. I mean, sitting in a public place talking about putting Bambi on the HLE could get you in trouble in some parts of Stumptown." "Yeah, but not ours..."



"Enough already. What's in the package? I"m dying to see. I love packages. Why wasn't it for me? I want a package..." "Quit your yammering, Dolly-girl, this is one christmas-morning that was meant for me if there ever was one!" 'Lard Have Mercy'  That's great! Must be a joint Dania found while she was beating her feet on the Mississippi mud." 


I think I earned this one. And, I bet it's got the Professor Javier Boleyn Squeal of DisApproval (© Boleyn Enterpries), which makes it top-notch in every other book!

Dispatch from Eastern Oregon

It's rodeo queen time in Eastern Oregon

Finding One's Feet: Leaving Pertussis Behind in Stumptown

"Jackie-boy, what's your excuse this month? I don't see a heck of a lot of red on the map that the patented Boleyn's Eye View Sky Cluster OverLay Device (® iBoleyn, a holy-owned subsidiary of iSaint Steven Enterprises) spit out this morning." "Sky Cluster over..." "Yes, the Sky Cluster OverLay Device, or as I call it, SCOLD. Amazing the technological leaps we've made since becoming part of Heavenly-Hosted Enterprises (® iSaint Steven Enterprises). It seems like there's something new every day."

 Well, professor, I'll admit that I didn't put up my best numbers, but let me point a few things out." "Point away, Jackie-boy, I'm all ears. (Aside to readers: Actually, I'm not all ears, I will be bored to tears by the excuses this Lard-Ass offers for why he took it easy this month...). "Well, first, I draw your attention to the graph to the left. Take a look at April. You can clearly see the onset of illness, on or about April 6, as indicated by a dramatic change in dm/dd--that's the slope of the line..." "I know what the change in mileage over the change in time is Jack. Get on with it." "I continue. Note that the slope stays at a depressed rate, due to a bout with what I've diagnosed as pertussis..." "Wait, to quote Steve Martin, 'Who's the barber here?' I will be the one doing diagnosis. In fact, remind me to charge you for a copy of my new E-Book, Diagnosing Dilatory Dawdling: When 2-Stepping Goes Awry." "I continue again. See last month's entry for details. Now, I draw your attention to the data for May. Two things are evident: a depressed, but constant rate, from May 7 through 11, and then a recovery beginning May 12, that brings my mileage back to a respectable 234.36 for the month." "Hold on just a goll-durned minute, I'm the one who defines 'respectable' Jackie-boy. More details. What's with the May 7-11 flat spot?"

"Well, I thought you'd never ask. As I may not have mentioned, in order to decrease D'Mestiere Investigation's carbon footprint, we have not been traveling much. However, May 7-11 was a notable exception, having journeyed to beautiful Colville, Washington. Note the map to the left. I think I did a pretty good job of Covering Colville, don't you?" "Not exactly, Jackie-boy. The Sky Cam noted that you didn't make it east of Maple Street. Monsters up there or something?" "Er..." "Er is right, what's up there are hills, Jackie-boy and it would have done you some good to walk up some of them. This is not Strolling Towards Fitness, Jack. But enough of your lame excuses, what's the flat spot at the end of May?"








"Fiora and I went to Whidbey Island, Washinton to visit our friends Dania and Cuco." "And?" "Well, you know. We were visiting." "You mean drinking beer, Jackie-boy. Drinking beer! And hanging out in places where the likes of you gain weight by breathing. What am I going to do with you."

"But, we did more than that, Professor. We saw the Memorial Day parade where the Rodeo Princess had her name written on her horse's butt with glitter." "Very nice, but not one of 2 well-known Steps..." "We went to Laura's New and Experienced Goods, the store at the recycling dump and saw Jesus in a Hard Hat..." "Not Step 1 or Step 2..." "We, we...we went to the Farmer's Market and we walked on the beach.
 

























We ate a great breakfast...oops." "Forget it Jackie-boy. Lame excuse piled on top of lame excuse. Fact is, you could have topped 250 or 275 miles had you wanted to. That's why it is I, Professor Javier Boleyn, and not the likes of you, LARD-Ass Jackie-boy D'Mestiere, that determines what is and isn't respectable."





"But I didn't gain an ounce, Professor." "Didn't gain is not an acceptable 2-Step Duh! Diet outcome, Jackie-boy, and we are a performance driven outfit! I expect, no I demand better!"

 "Whoan!"