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And a Butter Cow Shall Lead Them (WYSIWYG) Blogville
on the Rio Grande  I bought a stupid can of "air," really carbon tetrachloride, I think, at Wal-Mart. You know, to blow the crap out. It went "PFFFFTT!" once or twice and that was it. Try it out an it's useless, five bucks down the tube just like that, what a scam. For the record, a nice medium-sized paint brush with soft bristles works well enough for getting all the gurk out from under those key caps. You have to brush-brush-brush in the same channel for a bit, then this big hair bunny ends up half-exposed down at one end where you can pull it out. God, I've used this thing so much the characters on the keyboard are wearing off! If I'm not in touch-typing mode, I have to squint and peer down at the the keys to find a bloody letter. And speaking of bloody letters, FarrFeed (my new Salon Blog) is moving into its second week. [GoDaddy.com offers 1-year domain registration w/ free forwarding for $8.95!] Things are taking shape, sort of, but it's frustrating to see what kind of subject matter gets the most hits on any given day. Give your blog a vaguely sexy name, write nothing more than "I feel weird..," and watch the clicks pile up. (Reminds me of that can from Wal-Mart.) One clever fellow got himself mentioned on Slashdot and rocketed instantly to the top of the list. I went to Slashdot, registered, looked around, and decided there must be easier ways to get attention. But you could do it, couldn't you? Flame me, shame me, I don't care -- the link's the thing. Blog hit counters have to be one the most widespread manifestions of societal infantilism I've ever seen, but if my count doesn't go up, I'm gonna wet my bed and eat mud. Money
for nothin', chicks for free  Well, all right then! She's probably 28 and gorgeous, but I'm twice that and still cute, so how can I lose? I found a job for a "senior writer" at Midwest Living Magazine and sent off an application package via snail mail. From Taos to Des Moines ain't so bad if it comes with a paycheck and a dental plan, right? So far all I have for my trouble is a beat-up postcard acknowledgement that reads suspiciously like "Don't call us, we'll call you." I thought I'd make a big impression by telling the editor I'd not only seen the butter cow but also the butter Elvis... [one beat, two beats, three beats] Mystified, are we? A traditional feature of the Iowa State Fair is a life-sized sculpture of a dairy cow made entirely out of butter. They keep it in a refrigerated room, but you get to look through an insulated window. The fair is in August, remember. (Have you ever been to Iowa in August?) The year I saw it, the big yellow beast shared top billing with a life-sized butter Elvis. Midwest Living Magazine's editor is probably a hip big-city transplant who wouldn't be caught DEAD in the dairy hall at the State Fair and thinks I'm completely insane. I also found a real telecommuting job, writing travel pieces for the Lonely Planet folks down in Australia. "Chiz, mate!" That application goes in the mail tomorrow. They wanted to know about my travel experience. I told them I grew up in an Air Force family and moved 40 times before before I got out of high school. Every year I was the new kid in class, yippee. (Will you be my friend, Butter Elvis?) And now I'm up at 7,000 feet in the southern Rockies. Everyone I left in the "Land of Pleasant Living" knows I'm insane, but you have to admit, it's travel, and it's an experience, all right. Someday my prince will come. Close
up and personal  Meanwhile, the quest goes on. I've taken a pile of relevant old Farr Sites and more recent work, along with some totally new pieces, and put the story of how I came to be here into a book I surely haven't mentioned before, have I? Buffalo Lights is the name of this irresistible confection, which I've been pitching to agents and publishers. The biggest problem I've encountered so far is that the publishing industry is like the real estate business: only a few agents, literary or otherwise, know what email is for. "No electronic submissions!" Computers, ick. (Oh please.) No, for most of this work, I have to crank out piles and piles and piles of dead trees, stick stamps on extra envelopes, and walk down to the post office. But never fear. I have a PDF version of this epic almost ready to unveil. Yes, I've threatened to do that before, but now I really mean it. That's really all that's been on my mind lately, since I can't talk about the new Power Macs that you didn't just hear me mention and don't know anything about anyway. That's why my thoughts this week have been circling mighty close to home, which my Iowa English rose will soon be gracing with her inimitable presence (hey, maybe that's why). Sell that book! Raise that sail! Catch the rising wind and wail. (Didja hit that blog yet?) 
"Grack!" Senior Applelinks editor and columnist John H. Farr is busy cleaning up the apartment but left these links for you to check out: FarrFeed -- new Salon blog. The GRACK! Update mailing has been selected by the attorney general for special scrutiny. Just CLICK HERE and send a blank email. (Current year's columns just below)
"GRACK!" is © copyright 2002, John H. Farr, all rights reserved
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