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Archive for the ‘Music’ Category

The Parents were gone for 24 hours.  They went roaring out of the house in the middle of the night on Friday, and came back after one a.m. on Saturday – I mean Sunday morning.

The bird gets confused with the humans whole “time” thing.  For me, it is morning, then it is afternoon, then it is night.  Much more simple.

So, they make all of this racket coming into the house, and I’m a-hearing snippets of ‘New York” and John and Eve” and Aminta and Michael” and “Vietnamese Food” and “The Q&A” – any other crow out there on their laptop want to tell me what might have been going on?  The cats below me were just as confused, and we did call a meeting to discuss the issue, but no light was shed.

Well, I cannot worry much about it – the Mother has been exhibiting all of the signs of guilt, and that means I can take full advantage of her.  I have been treated like a king for the last 4 days.  Still, they are waking up a little on the late side.

I think I may start screaming really loud around 6 a.m., just to get them out of bed.  After all, they are still up until midnight in the room next to mine, making all kinds of noise, which they justify as “work”.  Ha!

I would caw some more about this, but it seems to be working out quite well on the ass end of the deal, and today I am writing my first book review, so, gotta go!

But, I have some kind of clue…..these fell out of the Mothers pocket, and I quickly grabbed them.  They have been keeping secrets.  From the looks of these, those two have friends! No one ran this by us, and that is just Not. Okay.

Bobby D. The Crow

Chasama-Film-Fest_0024

I know that is the Mother on the far left. Those other two? Hmmm

Chasama-Film-Fest_0048

Oh, it may be blurry, but it is her, alright. And it looks like New York.

 

Chasama-Film-Fest_0049

Yep, the father too, looking guilty. Those Lucy's got some 'splainin' to do...

 

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Hello, Bobby here. I would like to let the mother have the floor, as this is important to the parents insofar as their work is concerned, which makes it important to the Bird.  Bottom line – the parents work, the Bird eats.

Thank you.

———————————————————————————————–

Thank you for the lovely introduction, Robert.  Fresh Corn chips await you.

Hi all, it is the Mom here.

First off, the Summit is over and we all lived. Tomas and I went downtown on Wednesday and took a few pictures of the pre-preparations, on our way to the health food store.    Below is one of my favorites.  This sign was HUGE!!

this from the front seat of the Volvo, driving by.

this from the front seat of the Volvo, driving by.

We have a lot of them, and I just have not had time to post.  I will sprinkle them throughout posts down the line.

It was really interesting to be downtown, watching all of the preparation, and seeing how deserted the city was.  I love this city.

HOWEVER – on to personal pressing business – I am writing this because Tomas had requested that the International Movie database get his name and aka in the correct order, and somehow there was a mix-up.  You can only find Tomas Hart, and the film he worked on as a music element creator.  You cannot find Tomas Hradcky, the film composer, anywhere on the Imdb.

It is the same Tomas – he changed his name to Tomas Hart when he went to Los Angeles 23 years ago.  The last five years of his stay there, he  went back to the original family name, Tomás Hradcky.   He has scored over a dozen films, and until the Imdb fixes it, Tomás Hradcky and Tomas Hart are not linked as the same person.  But they are, and I am writing this on all three blogs so as to clear up any confusion until it all gets straightened out with the Imdb.

He is in the middle of composing a film right now, and does not have the time to re-contact the Imdb, so for now, this will have to do.

Partners on a Dime is the blog where you can read about past films he has scored, and what he is currently working on.

American Dumpling is where you can read about the documentary he scored that is making the film festival rounds.

Tomas Hradcky is his home page, which is in dire need of an update.

And below is a picture of him from two days ago, driving through the Fort Pitt tunnel.

Driving through the the Fort Pitt tunnel, the day before the G20 summit

Driving through the the Fort Pitt tunnel, the day before the G20 summit


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It is long past Thanksgiving, so I am behind on posting the pictures, but it got a little bit crazy over here right after Thanksgiving, a lot of things happened at once, and we are still trying to prioritize.

BUT – here are a few glimpses of Thanksgiving Day at Ross and Jolene’s house. Tomas was not happy with how his picture turned out, so he will turn up later when he is ready.

We also celebrated Jolene and Ross’s oldest son Sean’s birthday, he turned twelve a few days before Thanksgiving. He doesn’t have to wear a helmet when he rides his bike anymore!  Boo-yah!

 

Off we go, and, yes, it is COLD!

Off we go, and, yes, it is COLD!

 

Everybody is watching, and I am about to hyperventilate.  Swell.

Everybody is watching, and I am about to hyperventilate. Swell.

 

Grandma, who is renowned for her pumpkin pies, looks on.

Grandma, who is renowned for her pumpkin pies, looks on.

 

"They wanted me to have dusted under the bed??!!  Who does THAT?"

“They wanted me to have dusted under the bed??!! Who does THAT?”

 

"Got A Pen?  GET A PEN!!"

“Got A Pen? GET A PEN!!”

 

"I got you" "No, I got you first"  Nuh-uh, I got YOU"  "Did Not" "Did too"

“I got you” “No, I got you first” Nuh-uh, I got YOU” “Did Not” “Did too” 

 

Barb, Brianna, and Bill - Self-proclaimed "Always the Gracious Guests"

Barb, Brianna, and Bill – Self-proclaimed “Always the Gracious Guests”

 

Children Of The Corn - "Attack Grandpa!"

Children Of The Corn – “Attack Grandpa!”

 

Cameron, "I see dead people...."

Cameron, “I see dead people….”

 

Jolene, The Stuffing QUEEN!

Jolene, The Stuffing QUEEN!

 

Sean rocks the house with a "Black Sabbath" tune

Sean rocks the house with a “Black Sabbath” tune.

 

Grandma, Bill, Tomas, Grandpa, Billy, and Cameron, "More Pie, Please!"

Grandma, Bill, Tomas, Grandpa, Billy, and Cameron, “More Pie, Please!”

 

Ross, his mother Alice, and son Sean discuss chord changes

Ross, his mother Alice, and son Sean discuss chord changes.

 

Ross Williams - Chef Extraordinaire, musician,Renaissance man

Ross Williams – Chef Extraordinaire, musician, Renaissance man.

 

Ross and his younger sister Callie share a moment by the fire.

Ross and his younger sister Callie share a moment by the fire.

It was such a great meal, Ross slow cooks the Turkey outside with special wood – I have never in my life tasted such a Turkey.  Ross’s parents Alice and Bud were his right hand in the delivery and carving, Barb’s yam dish was gone before I had a chance to get there, so you can figure that one out. Jolene really is the queen of the stuffing, it was absolutely perfect, with no silliness added – you know when people put apples and raisins in stuffing? That is So wrong! I do not know who was responsible for the brussel sprouts wrapped in bacon, but it was a triple helping hit with me.

And finally, yes. Tomas’s mother, Mrs. H, really does make the best pumpkin pie I have ever tasted.

Besides the food, Ross treated me to a nip of his homemade Brandy and LoganBerry wine – it was so good, I have to admit I had more than a nip. Having become the “special occasion” imbiber, I knew I was in for a headache the next day, but it was totally worth it.

The overall best time for me was the company, enjoying Tomas’s family, and the quietly nice feeling of being welcomed in.

Thank you Ross, Jolene, Mr. and Mrs. H, Alice and Bud, Barb and Bill, and the rest of the whole crew for a great Thanksgiving.

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Bobby is asking the mom this question, being rather strident.

Bobby, the Mom would like to think so, but she has many conflicts on the issue.

The Mom’s question is – When did you hear that song, young man?

Bobby: “I heard it going through your head over and over.  Why was that?”

Mom: “I have no idea.”

Bobby: “There must be a reason.”

Mom: “When you figure it out, will you tell me?”

Bob: “I already have, but you have to find the answer yourself.”

Sigh.

Mom: “Would you like to play with an unshelled walnut?”

Bob: “Oh yes please.”

Mom: “I will mull this over while you pound on the walnut. It will be kind of hard, because I need quiet to think.”

Bob: “We will figure that out, don’t worry.”

Mom: “Since you are much smarter than I am, I believe you.”

Bob: “So we’re good?”

Mom: “We’re good.”

Bob: “Okay, I am going to poop now. Could you clean that up? I will be quiet while you think.”

Mom: “I will.”

The mom loves the bird.

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Many years ago, my father, William A. Mahan, put an ad in ‘The Recycler’, for a roommate, as his mother was in the Motion Picture Country Home, and he had to take care of her, and needed someone to take care of the house while he was gone.

Louise Hogarth answered the ad.  It seemed like a good fit.  Bill liked her and got her into the editors union.

She manipulated him, and myself, for decades.

She is all over the internet now, promoting herself, using her grants to jet around with one film or another, she does not know how to use the Avid, or Final Cut Pro editing machines – the list is so long.

She came to the wake we had for Bill, sneering at all of the “skinny women,”  while sitting on the deck rail, a smug look on her face.

Then she approached Tomas to score “The Gift.”

He worked very hard on it, but alas, she screwed him also.

Ahh Louise – I remember back when I was working on Walter Hill’s film “Geronimo”,  Bill called and begged me to give you some work, anything, you were sinking.

I called her, and while I went off to the scoring stage, asked her to arrange the change reels by date and put them on the rack.  I gave her $100 out of my pocket.

She was happy, my father was happy, and she drove off in her beat up car.

Poor Louise.  It is so nice to see that her lies, manipulations, and screwing people over has paid off.

You go, girl.

Just remember, the ghost of Bill, the Bird, and the Mom despise you, and someday soon you will be exposed.

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I know I have never finished the first post on the story of how Tomas and I became the parents of a crow, it may just have to go into the memoir section of my web page. Bobby has lived with us for six years, and every day he is up to something new to drive me insane with love or a desire to strangle him. And Tomas, being “The Dad”, never wanted children because deep down, he always knew music would come first. We both knew we would not be good parents to a human, albeit for different reasons.

HOWEVER, as I write this, Bobby is cawing like a madman, I think he is trying to find his girlfriend, and Tomas is wrestling with a difficult cue. But he loves the Bob, and luckily he can tune him out, and Bobby has no interest in marching into the studio and demanding attention.

With all of the disagreements we have, The Bob and I are both in agreement on one issue:

We despise Ann Coulter.

This does not make us unique, but I have an extra added bonus. Ann Coulter looks like my sister Shannon Mahan, and uses her blond leggy sex appeal in exactly the same way as Shannon, whom I am also less than fond of. But I have to kind of feel sorry for my sister, because all of my personal feelings about her aside, she is in with the majority of Americans who abhor this administration. AND SHE LOOKS LIKE ANN COULTER!!!
That is just the Universe being mean to my sister, but the bad devil side of me gets a bit of a kick out of it sometimes. Poor Shannon. How do you reconcile finding something funny, but feeling bad about it? Chocolate?

However, this is not about Shannon, again, our relationship will be covered in memoirs, down the line. I have some great memories of her, and often wonder what happened to her to cause her to be a certain way later in life. A certain way that, from my perspective, was unkind. I have my own responsibilities in our break from each other, which I chose to do, and I will be owning up to them. I will not do a hatchet job on my sister, as much as my anger at her wants me to.

This post is about Bobby the Crow and how politically proactive he is. I was changing his papers the other day, and happened upon a picture of dear old Annie Coltie, she was speaking somewhere, the L.A. times reported, “to wild applause”. Gee, do you think it was her legs and hair, or her putrid spew that was causing such enthusiasm? Go fellas!
Everyone knows that most men (and this is not a bash, even they admit it) hear very little of what women say when they are flashing you with whatever “come-hither” ammo they have at their disposal, and Lord knows, Annie the Republican Stick Chick has LOTS to work with. Very pretty, very smart, very hateful, and very wily.
She is not special, either, and she has every right to laugh at us. But someday, poor Ann Coulter will have cellulite, saggy breasts, crows feet, (sorry Bobby, it’s just an expression, your feet are cute) all of the swell stuff that happens when we get OLD!
Ann will have enough money to plastic surgery away much of this, but then she will look weird, as everybody does when they try too hard to stay young.

I have nothing against a little here, a little there, to make one’s self feel better, but when a person relies on her beauty to get the attention he or she needs, they usually go too far, and just look odd, sometimes kind of scary.

I have the sense that Ann Coulter is smart enough to know that if she wants to keep this nonsense up, she has to stay beautiful, and she will most likely go overboard with the plastic surgery. Then what she says will be in the spotlight, not her body and her hair. She will fade into the sunset, and be forgotten before the finale, where she gets to talk to her particular brand of Jesus.

I probably won’t live long enough to see it, but……let the silly twit enjoy her time. In the big picture, she is as meaningless as Paris Hilton.

SO, speaking of silly twits, here is how Bobby and I are proactive in our beliefs. I put the picture in the paper of Ann Coulter down right where he poops the most, and enjoy watching her image slowly fade away under a pile of bird shit.

Totally petty, totally silly, but dammit, I make myself laugh.
And to quote Craig Ferguson, “If it makes me laugh, that’s half the battle.”

Bobby D., Political Crow.

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The Bird is BORED

Before I continue the saga of chasing and ultimately catching Bobby, today I have to say, it was made very clear to me that he was bored, and I couldn’t bribe him with toys or food. He is in the dining room, and I am back in my office, and he is hollering. He hollers at dawn every morning, but that is just to inform us that it is time to wake up. Over the years it has become part of the dreams at the bottom of the sleep cycle. I have a background soundtrack of a crow in my morning dreams, every morning.

But he mellows out once we are up, and usually keeps himself very busy, and I go along my business knowing he is a self sufficient little soul.

If I do this for two days in a row, Bobby starts letting me know that I am neglecting him, and he is about to call 1-800-for-a-bird and report me.

If I still do not pay attention, he will climb down from his condo and walk across the stove and start throwing vitamins, pens, anything in his path. He will attack the bowl of garlic and onions, stabbing holes in them then tossing them onto the floor. He will snatch a corner of the paper towels and roar back up onto his perch, effectively tee-peeing the sink and stove area.

SO – since I am not in the mood to do more cleaning than necessary, I brought him back into the office with me, where he hops around and waits for me to crook my finger at him and say “juh-guh boy” which means, in our human to crow language, “I will pet your head if you come here”.

Problem is, it is so much fun that I stop working on music timing notes and start playing with him.

We shall get back to how this all came about next time. Today, the bird was bored, and my job was to wear him out so he would take a nap and let me work in peace.

See? Not a whole lot different than a three year old child.

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