Showing posts with label Dirty Harry Callahan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dirty Harry Callahan. Show all posts

Friday, February 13, 2009

Spies, writing and step-dads on my mind ....

Here, in the photo to the left, we see Ziva making short work of an agent for a terrorist organization. That's her on the right, coming in low with the "knockout" punch. What a woman. Never have to worry about muggers with her around. And, in the photo to the right, we get a better look at her. Rather petite, but a guy does not want to get on her bad side. It would be nice if she'd be willing to leave the ball cap in the closet.

Ever dated an Israeli Mossad agent?

While my mind is in turmoil and I struggle to remain cohesive in the fog somewhere above San Francisco, I think it is time to turn my attention toward determining exactly what type of woman would suit me the best. (Yes, I know it's a two-way street, but a guy has to start somewhere, and this hardly is an exact science. It takes time.)

How about someone like Ziva David, a character in the television show NCIS (Naval Criminal Investigative Service)? Ziva is an Israeli Mossad Liason Officer attached to the American unit. Her persona is that of a woman who has been around men all her life and is not afraid of men under any circumstances.

This is a young lady who can throw a knife better than anyone since Jim Bowie and can shoot a handgun better than anyone since Dirty Harry. She can take out at least three guys in 30 seconds in hand-to-hand combat, she speaks three or four languages and she looks great in an evening dress. On a quiet Sunday afternoon, we could go outside into the yard and practice knife throwing or a bit of judo. I'll bet the neighborhood kids would love to have someone like Ziva around to play with -- rough and tumble and cute. Many fine attributes, indeed. A Ziva-type has a lot to offer, however, this does not mean she would not also have to be a bookworm who loves history and has no fear of canoeing into the middle of nowhere.

Well, while I contemplate the Ziva-type, in days to come I'll think of a few other possibilities which might match up well with me. (This is more fun than thinking about politicians.)

I don't care what you say, writing is work!

When I began this blog, I had no idea whether it would last more than a single day. (I think that happens to quite a few people.) So, I decided that no matter what, I would write at least a few words every day for the first month. I think I will make it, and then maybe swing into a "write as the mood strikes me" pattern. That is how many, if not most, bloggers seem to be doing it.

Writing has always been work for me, never done for pleasure or relaxation, as seems to be the case for many bloggers. Writing under deadline pressure or being limited to a certain number of words to explain all the relevant details of a particular event can take the fun out of the exercise. That probably is another reason I periodically will scout around for a "mock sabbatical."

Remembering old "step-dad's" music ....

My step-father (an informal title in this instance) lived on Long Island in New York for a decade or so before returning to Minnesota and settling down in the "old home town." While in the vicinity of the "The City," he managed to attend a number of Broadway productions, mostly musicals, and also more than a few operatic performances. He particularly enjoyed stuff from the 1940s and 1950s. The music caught on in my head from hearing his albums being played once or twice a week. Tonight, his influence is being displayed through the music to which I am listening.

Music Note: Listening to Mario Lanza ....
Specifically, "The Student Prince" ....
(Drink! Drink! Drink!)
(To eyes that are bright as stars when they're shining on me)

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Three from San Fran vs. one from L.A.

Gentlemen, all ....
I visited San Francisco once. I was constantly peering around corners hoping to see Dirty Harry Callahan (left) or Frank Bullitt (center) or even Sam Spade (right) in action, but I had no luck.

Never-the-less, I am thinking about taking night classes, changing careers and modeling my life style after one of those three tough guys. Let's see. Callahan and Bullitt were coppers, and had to put up with bureaucratic xxyyzzssmm ... you get the picture. Spade also had cops to work around, but he was "private" ... he was his own boss. Hard choice to make. Decisions, decisions, decisions.

Maybe I'll just head down to Los Angeles and pick up where Philip Marlowe (below) left off. You know, Marlowe looks a lot like Sam Spade. I wonder if they had the same old man, a mean-looking guy who traveled a lot? Who's the chick with Marlowe? Whatever, I think I'll forget about the badge and go the "private investigator" route. That sounds classy, like me. I wonder if the chick has a blog?

.... but, maybe L.A.
I'll put your name and number right here in my personal file.
Nice veil.
Had lunch yet? I know this great saloon ....

Something special ....