This strange pattern appeared on a fuji apple that Laila was afraid to bite into. She said that she’d been listening to Elvis records yesterday. The picture on the right is a reversed image of some paperback book. Funny the things you can find when you do a little research.

I’ve never been a big believer in the various Virgin Mary appearances. Not that they don’t look like what they’re purported to look like–but they aren’t manifestations of some supernatural causality.

Having said that, I think the King is loving Laila tender.

Stopped into Roger Dunn in Santa Ana today to get a putter re-gripped, and saw them putting lots of delicious-looking liquidation inventory out on the lawn under big white tents. And you know what that means. Tent sale. Just the words cause salivation, like a pavlovian dog hearing the dinner bell. Tent. Sale. Clubs. Bags. Putters. Drivers. Gotta try the square drivers. Need a new hybrid. Could use some gloves. And balls. TEES! Can’t forget tees. Stay away from the iron sets . . . must. . .stay. . . away… The first 100 customers each day will receive a golf goodie bag—probably meaning a few tees and a divot fixer, but hey—free stuff. Golf stuff. This weekend, Friday through Sunday starting at 9 a.m. Go here for more info.

Those Steamers Café patrons who came to relax and drink some wine Thursday night while generally ignoring the band had a hard time. Ignoring the band, that is.

Bassist/composer/singer Miles Mosley, who Thursday night led his “Brothel Jazz” trio, with guitarist Brian Green and Aaron McClendon on drums, took a musically articulated exception to that thought that modern day tendency to think that Jazz is “relaxing” or “background” music. It’s probably why he doesn’t like playing jazz clubs. He’s probably tired of the blank stares.
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So our multimedia guy, Devin, took this comedy improv class at SCR yesterday. They’re doing this exercise that requires each participant to finish each other’s thought to form a story. The instructor is pointing randomly to people, and they’re stammering out stuff.

(points to first guy): I was in Tijuana and . . .
(points to second guy): . . .I drank some tequila and it was so good it . .
(points to Devin): . . . gave me uh, the bends . . .

At this point, the next guy can’t finish the thought.

Then there was the one where they were talking about warts.

That got pretty weird.