SNYDERMANIA: Hey, Buzz!

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Hey, Buzz!

I'm beFrank and I approve this blog!

Bill (we call him, Buzz) was having some formatting trouble with his blog, so he gave me access to try and fix the problem.

I think things are back to relatively normal (an entirely over-rated concept, if you ask me) and I hope there is an increase in hits because I'm sort of guest posting.

7 comments:

Kavita Saharia said...: Hey Guest writer(sort of)...welcome!Nice to meet you.Thanks for fixing the problem Bill had with the format.Please fix another problem too....i mean the problem he is having visiting other blogs.haha...silly joke!Have a great Sunday.; December 13, 2009 at 3:29 AM
Paul Greci said...: Normal is definitely over-rated.; December 13, 2009 at 8:49 AM
#167 Dad said...: Thanks for the help, Bryan.
Hey everybody, check out Bryans masterful blog at http://coolshots.blogspot.com/; December 13, 2009 at 10:33 AM
Blues said...: *cries unashamedly in deep confusion*
I want Dad back!!!!!!! Give me Dad back!!!!!!!!!!
:-DDD; December 13, 2009 at 1:36 PM
#167 Dad said...: I'm still here, Blues.
Befrank is a brilliant photographer, writer, and blogger. Check him oout when you get a chance...
the two of us did stand up comedy in the 80s. But now we don't care what the temperature is...; December 13, 2009 at 1:51 PM
BeFrank said...: . . .ba-doomp, boomp! (rimshot); December 17, 2009 at 3:34 AM
Blues said...: I know I know... I just wanted to show you my undivided attention. ^^; December 22, 2009 at 12:41 PM

NORTHERN EXPOSURE

Goethe's final words: "More light." Ever since we crawled out of that primordial slime, that's been our unifying cry: "More light." Sunlight. Torchlight. Candlight. Neon. Incandescent. Lights that banish the darkness from our caves, to illuminate our roads, the insides of our refrigerators. Big floods for the night games at Soldier's field. Little tiny flashlight for those books we read under the covers when we're supposed to be asleep. Light is more than watts and footcandles. Light is metaphor. Thy word is a lamp unto my feet. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home- Lead Thou me on! Arise, shine, for thy light has come. Light is knowledge. Light is life. Light is light.

FIELD OF DREAMS

Well, you know I... I never got to bat in the major leagues. I would have liked to have had that chance. Just once. To stare down a big league pitcher. To stare him down, and just as he goes into his windup, wink. Make him think you know something he doesn't. That's what I wish for. Chance to squint at a sky so blue that it hurts your eyes just to look at it. To feel the tingling in your arm as you connect with the ball. To run the bases - stretch a double into a triple, and flop face-first into third, wrap your arms around the bag. That's my wish, Ray Kinsella. That's my wish. And is there enough magic out there in the moonlight to make this dream come true?