April 21, 2015

  • Just popping in for a visit

    over 1,000 posts on here.  Sounds like a lot, but over 15 years or so, not really.  About half of them are private now.  Not sure why I did that.  Probably because my daughter (I used to call her ReyRey on here) was expressing interest in my blogs, and then never read them.  The ones I made private probably weren't even that revealing.  Once I started looking through them I probably just hid the ones I didn't like as much.

     

January 27, 2015

  • Prometheus the xangarelic

    I first started blogging on a site called xanga and my user name was Prometheus.  I was there from the beginning, that is when xanga began, and there were only a handful of us.  Later, when we were overrun by teenagers and the Chinese (I’m not kidding) we used to call ourselves “xangarelics.”  But at the beginning it was pure blogging.  Ordinary people with interesting and complex thoughts writing not about one thing, as is the conventional advice if you want to attract “customers,” but we wrote about everything.  It was what blogging should be.

     

    That was the past.  Xanga is a ghost town now.  The site moved, and tried to reinvent itself, but now even old readers can’t find it.  It’s a ghost town, but it still exists.

     

    Suddenly, I started getting emails that people are commenting on some of these old posts!

     

    I’m popular again.

     

    Wow, awesome weblog layout! How long have you ever been running a

    blog for? you made blogging glance easy. The total glance of your site is fantastic, let alone the content!

     

    What are they selling?

     

    Remarkable! Its really remarkable article, I have

    got much clear idea about from this post. - from “insoles for high arch”

     

    Thanks for a marvelous posting! I truly enjoyed reading it, you might be a great author.

    I will ensure that I bookmark your blog and definitely will come back in the future.

    I want to encourage continue your great job, have a nice day! -  from Foot Pronation.

     

    I used to be able to find good advice from your blog articles. - from Hay Day Hack Tool

     

    That wasn’t very complimentary.  I’m not buying their app.

     

    Whеn I originally comented ӏ seеm tto have clicked the -Notify mе hen neww comments ɑгe added- checkbox annd fгom now οn ԝhenever ɑ сomment іs added

    I get four emails ԝith tthe samе comment. There ɦas tto be a wɑy уou arre

    aable to remove mе from thаt service? Apprciate іt!

     

    The first comment from that person.  A trick, I think.  I’m not falling for it.

     

    Howdy would you mind letting me know which webhost you're utilizing?

    I've loaded your blog in 3 completely different web browsers

    and I must say this blog loads a lot faster

    then most. Can you suggest a good web hosting provider

    at a reasonable price? Thanks, I appreciate it!

     

    And

     

    Good blog you have got here.. It's hard to find quality writing like yours

    nowadays. I truly appreciate individuals like

    you! Take care!! - from Spartan Wars Cheat

     

    {sigh}

May 13, 2014

  • A rewrite of my first post (can it be almost 14 years later?)

    Prometheus' Soul

    I am in fact so sorrowful
    To say my soul exists
    For I am but an animal
    And chained like this Prometheus

    My spirit's soul so ripe for raping
    May heal but only by a rebirth free
    So, until my Easter, no escaping
    Yet, "death you cannot give me."

    Are you so gifted, future seer?
    Or limited to see just one?
    I believe I can see more, yet fear
    Perhaps, that I see none

    Good questions in this mind I stow
    For one day later I may ask
    In the meantime I pretend to know
    But that's not freedom's task

September 24, 2013

August 1, 2013

  • Find me

    As long as xanga still appears to exist, I guess I'll post a forwarding address

    andyglasser.wordpress.com

    I thought about writing some kind of retrospective essay, but shit, that would have taken so long, and maybe hurt so much.  And I haven't been active on xanga for so long, who am I to protest it's ending?

    But I miss the good old days. 

October 17, 2008

  • Are we real?

    My son, at 7 years old, asked me the other day whether he was real.  Cause sometimes he feels like he isn’t real.  I think this is extremely advanced thinking, the kind that we beat out of kids early.  The kind of thinking that great philosophers contemplate – what is the essence of life?  The kind of thinking that great spiritual minds contemplate, what is the nature of spirit, life, afterlife.  The kinds that filmmakers contemplate, that maybe we are all just stuck in a matrix.  I don’t want to discourage this kind of question, but I don’t know the answer.  I don’t know, son, whether we are real.

September 6, 2008

  • I smell hotdogs. I hear airplanes.

    Hear me!

     

    They are selling the seats from Shea, as soon as the season is over.

     

    I want to know something is this the last stadium in America that is named to honor someone?

     

    The new stadium will be called Citifield, to honor Citibank. 

     

    That should be enough for those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about to find out.

     

    And if you are back from your googling, this is my plan.  I plan to buy three sets of two seats each (that will cost less than $2,700), then I’m going to build a platform of steps in my living room to put the seats on, so there will be three levels, and no one’s head will get in the way of anyone else’s.  I’m going to bolt the seats to the floor and to the platform and get a big screen TV to watch all Mets games from these seats.

     

    Then I will paint on the walls a rendition of Shea and a sea of orange hats as if its orange hat day at Shea.  And on the ceiling I’m going to paint sky and a big airplane flying low as it takes off from LaGuardia.  Then I’m going to create a music file of planes taking off, and I’m going to play it on repeat while the game is on.

     

    I’ll open the windows and cook Kahn's hot dogs, and then I’ll cry. (Ralph Kiner how could you let this happen!)

     

    Goodbye Shea.  If the Mets get into the playoffs this year, I promise to come see you one last time.  We are the same age, you know.  I hope this doesn’t usher in my end as well.  It shouldn’t, not as long as I have your seats.

September 5, 2008

  • The Church of Baseball

    Getting my son interested in baseball.

    I’m not a big fan of forcing my kids into things that I like.  So I don’t necessarily care if my son doesn’t like baseball – or rather I stand on principal that I shouldn’t force it, whether it bothers me or not.  The truth is, I like baseball because my father did, and he showed his enthusiasm which was contagious.  I, on the other hand, left the small town (NYC) where our team plays, and have since neglected what used to be a fanatic interest.  And so, my kids just don’t get to see it.  Nevertheless my oldest daughter is interested when its on, and if she didn’t believe it was too late to get started (she’s only 12), I think she would want to play (softball). 

    My son, who is only 7, resists everything, and so its hard to tell what he would like.  I don’t want to let him do nothing, so I do force him into things, and overhearing him tell someone recently that he liked baseball better than soccer, we decided to sign him up for more baseball.  He does nothing but complain about having to go to practice, why do we always sign him up for things that he hates, etc. 

    Last night we got invited to go to a Braves game, and so I decided that he could miss his own practice, in an attempt, by attending a game, to foster some enthusiasm, and his coach concurred.

    I bought him a souvenir baseball for $9!!!.  I bought a program because I thought scoring the game might keep me (and him) focused on what was happening (they have a lot of distractions at the games nowadays.  As if baseball wasn't enough - times have changed).  In my day you could buy a score card cheep and separately from a “year book”, but not anymore – now you have to buy the “program” for $7!!! Just to get the scorecard that is an insert). 

    It was $1 hotdog night.  Me:

    “How much is a hotdog?”
    “One dollar.”
    “How much is a hamburger.”
    “$13.95” (or some such thing).
    “I’ll take a hotdog.”

    And then later I bought him a huge amount of ice cream in an upside down mini baseball helmet.

    And between all of this spending, I tried hard to make him see the game while he instead wanted to climb around the seats and not pay attention.

    “Did you see that catch?”

    “It’s two strikes, one more and we change sides again.”

    “It’s ok to yell and make a lot of noise as long as you’re rooting for a team!”

    “Look, that guy is a lefty, like Walt” (his friend)

    “See how that guy waves his bat around?”

    “You should try to look like that guy when you hit.”

    It was hard work. 

    And it made me wonder why I was doing it.

    I’ll tell you, I think its like Church.

    I know a lot of people who grew up going to church, then stopped, and then when they had kids they went to church again.  Why?  I think its because they want their kids to have the same foundation as they had. 

    I didn’t grow up going to church, so I have no need to do that for my kids, but I did grow up in the church of the Mets, and I do feel like I wish they had a little of that.  Only I have fallen down on the job because I didn’t go back to baseball once I had them. 

    Anyway, we get home.

    “How was it?” my wife asks.
    “hmm.”
    “He didn’t have fun?”
    “Oh he had lots of fun, he just didn’t pay much attention to the game.”
    “Hey MOM!” he calls from the other room.
    “What?”
    “The Braves won!”
    “Who were they playing?”
    “I don’t know.”

    It’s a start.

May 16, 2008

  • Middle School Slam

    Imagine I am middle schoolish

    (or if you prefer, you can call it Jr. High)

    And I am at a poetry slam

     

    I might be brave enough to risk looking foolish

    I might be quiet and quite shy

    Perhaps that’s who I am

     

    Or I am popular and this is just fun

    Middle school girls in concert scream

    As I approach the stage

     

    Or will at least when I am done

    As down mom’s cheeks tears also stream

    For I am older than my age

     

    So judges please be kind to me and mine

    Perhaps what we think deep ain’t so

    But we try hard to find that Zen 

     

    And on a scale from 1 to 9

    Please start from 8 or mo’

    And please make mine a 10.

     

    I attended my first poetry slam at my daughter's middle school (she didn't compete - in fact, there wasn't anyone I knew competing).   I am impressed by people who put themselves out there.  Especially given that the stereotypical poet, particularly in "jr. high school" is shy and quiet and stands far away from the mike until someone moves the mike closer, and she/he backs away again, but has to get an 8 for trying, even though we couldn't hear.  Right?