cheese is moldy milk

Devi lasciarla andare.

2011-09-16T18:08:00.000-05:00

Quando mi sona svegliato ero triste.

When I woke up I was sad.

The sun was shining, but I was seeing it through a different window. For a moment, I listened for the sound of you humming a favorite song but heard only silence. There was no smell of strong coffee to greet me.

Fuori, la strada è tranquilla.

I open the window and look out at the square. The tourists of August are gone. No children are playing. They are back in la scuola in the new part of town.

A small breeze rustles the poster pinned to the message board on the other side of the square. It is for a marionette show that has already taken place.

The tables are out in front of il ristorante although there is no one to fill them. I consider going down for coffee and a pastry, but can't bear the thought of the pained smile Giacomo will put on for me.

Lei è andata. Devi lasciarla andare.

They tell me to move on, to put you in the past. How can I tell them it's impossible? Without you there is no future for me. Without you, I am a violin with no strings. I'm a hollow shell that can't make any music.

I fill the stove top espresso pot with water and coffee, light the gas burner and wait for the thick, brown liquid to sputter up. The pot fills and I realize I'm still staring at it even after it is done. I shake my head and fill my tazzina. There are only a few packets of the raw sugar you love left, so I drink the coffee black.

I dress and go down the stairs to the street. I walk down the hill from the old town towards the new, from our dream to their reality.

Non capiscono. Mi hai dato la vita. Mi hai fatto sentire.

Ahead I see the busy viale. I stop and turn down the side street that leads to the beach. I know it will make me late, but I'm not ready. I need more time.

It takes me fifteen minutes to walk to the water. The beach is nearly empty. Only a few people are laying on the sand, on our beach.

For a minute, I can imagine you lying on the Moroccan blanket reading a romance novel. I'm on my side looking at you. You are on your stomach and a strand of your long, brown hair slips down. You brush it back, glance at me and laugh.

“Non mi danno i tuoi occhi camera da letto è vecchio lech.”

“Non essere così bella allora,” I say.

“Vai rinfrescarsi in acqua. Fammi leggere il mio libro.”

You just smile and read as I trace the curve of your back.

I'm thinking of this when a soccer ball bounces near me. I turn and see three young men looking in my direction.

“Mister!” one of them yells. “Calci indietro!”

I look at the ball and kick it back to them.

“Gracie!” they yell and turn back down the beach, kicking the ball as they go.

I can't put it off any longer. I turn away from our beach and walk back toward town.

Too soon, I'm at the ospedale. I walk into the lobby. The nurse at the desk barely notices me. I take the elevator up and get out. I walk down the long hall, past the window with the newborns behind it without looking at them. I turn at the end of the hall and push open the door to the ward of no hope.

The dottore is in your room. He's wearing a white coat. You are in your bed. I can see your chest slowly rise and fall to the beat of machine next to you. It's tube is in your throat, filling your lungs with air.

The doctor looks at me. He doesn't know I'm wearing your favorite shirt, the one you bought me in Rome because it made my eyes look more blue. I can't speak, so I take your hand. It's limp in mine.

“So che è difficile, ma è la cosa giusta da fare,” the doctor finally says. “Se ci fosse qualche speranza...”

I fight back tears and lean forward to kiss your forhead.

“OK,” I whisper. “Si, va bene.”

And then I can't stop the tears.

Captain of the Guards (chapter one)

2011-07-31T18:16:00.004-05:00

CHAPTER ONE

“No time,” I think as I reach back into the car for a weapon, any weapon. But what kind of weapon do you use to fight a six and a half foot tall man throwing blue energy bolts at you?

Okay, so, he probably isn't a man. Give me a break here - something that looks like a man, a very tall man at that, is hurling deadly energy blasts at me. I know they're deadly because the ones that have missed have fused chunks of the parking lot gravel into, well, fused gravel. Luckily for me, he seems to be looking for something and I'm no more than an annoyance to be brushed away.

I don't want to be brushed away though. I rather like me and the little life I lead. Sure, I could use some more money, maybe better looks, a nice car...

“Remington!” yelled Alyssa. “Now would be a good time.”

The bad energy guy was turning toward us and his right hand was glowing with crackling, blue plasma. I only have time to reach in to scoop up a handful of small pebbles and slide a golf club out of the 1930s canvas and leather Wilson golf bag I keep behind the driver's seat. Not just any golf club mind you. This beauty has a hickory shaft, leather wrapped grip and a hand-forged head. It's a Hendry and Bishop niblick.

Hendry and Bishop, Ltd. was a golf club company in the first third of last century. One of the biggest in the world for a while. Big, in this case, didn't mean shoddy though. Take this club – the hickory shaft is still straight and doesn't have any cracks, the leather grips are original and the metal head is a deliciously perfect with a dark brown patina. It takes years to acquire that kind of patina.

“Remington!”

Time slows down like a car crash as his hand swings forward. It's not just everything slowing down, it's slow and fast at the same time. As his hand swings forward and a blast of energy leaps from it, I toss the pebbles in the air. As his blast collides with the pebbles, there's a thunderous boom like a wave crashing on a rocky shore and the blue energy vaporizes into a light mist.

“How...” Says Alyssa. She's looking up at me from the ground. Her eyes have that look. You know the look you get when people discover that you're not just a bumbling idiot? No? Well, I get it a lot.

“What did you do?” she asks.

“Witch's stones...”

I mean give me some credit. I'm not gonna just lob some pebbles at a pissed off Faerie. Yeah, I sort of figured him for one of the Fay, but I wasn't sure till just now. That was Faerie Fire or I'm a monkey's...oh never mind. Just trust me, it was.

Anyway, witch's stones are stones that have a hole naturally worn through their center. They look a bit like Lifesavers, which in a way they are. Witches hang them about their property for protection. I found mine along the beach. Hence the whole wave crash thing with the energy blast.

I could explain this to Alyssa, but we've got big problems now. You don't just knock down a Fay's Faerie Fire without him noticing. I could feel his rage pulsing. If there's anything the Fay don't like, it's mortals using magick.

“Wizard!” The whites of his eyes were flashing red.

“Shit...”

I have just enough time to aim the handle end of my golf club at the Fay before he tosses another blue bomb our way. Aged hickory makes a really nice wand and wands are handy for focusing power. I plant my feet and feel the warm, earth energy flow up at the same time he hurls a blast our way. I'm just able to deflect it. My wrist, elbow and arm scream with pain at the blow. There's a lot of energy being thrown around. This is one powerful Fay.

If he keeps tossing Faerie Fire at us, we could be toast really soon. Again we get lucky and he charges forward with a yell.

“Aiiiiiiieeee!”

He can probably tear me apart with his hands. Contrary to what you may have heard, faeries aren't cute and delicate. They are pretty darn strong. As he rushes toward me, I flip the club around, pull back and swing it at his head. There's a dull thud as the club connects with his head. He gives me a startled look and falls with a thud.

Alyssa is looking at me with wide eyes.

“How..?”

“Scottish iron in this club,” I say. “Faeries don't deal with iron real well and this is hand-forged, Scottish iron. Don't think he was expecting that.”

“What?”

“Faeries don't deal...” I start.

Alyssa is looking at me like I'm nuts. I'm used to this, a lot of people have this reaction, but this isn't how I had hoped the day would go. I sigh to myself and try to think of the best way to explain all this.

Most people go their entire lives without ever having to know there's more to this world than what we see. Few people ever have any dealings with supernatural beings and those who have usually find a way to rationalize it away.

I know this isn't going to go good. It's too bad, I really like this girl.

“That,” I say, pointing at the dead Fay. “That is a Faerie.”

“A Faerie?”

“Well, actually...not so much anymore. But, yes...”

“A Faerie?”

“Yes...”

“I think I want to go home,” says Alyssa.

Told you it wasn't going to go too good.

“Okay.”

Alyssa pulls open the passenger side door and climbs in. I draw a circle on the ground around the dead Faerie and mutter a few protection words. I'll have to come back later after I take Alyssa home and figure out this mess.

Isabella Beauchamp - The Tom Thumb Robot

2011-04-06T15:22:00.003-05:00

(This is the second episode/chapter of Isabella Beauchamp's adventures. They are set in a slightly different 19th century England. I'm posting with almost no editing and revision, so try and overlook any glaring problems in that department. I've also noticed that the formatting is spotty after transferring to Blogger, but I don't have the time now to fix it.

The stories are meant to be a nod to Victorian era serials. I'm shooting for fun and quick to read without too much complexity. This a bit of an exercise for me. I have a journalism background and have found that I write better when I'm actually doing it on regularly - preferably with a tight deadline. This project will, I hope, help.)

Sanjeep carried the silver tray down the hall toward the double doors. The sound of shuffling feet, stomps and metal hitting metal grew louder. As he reached the doors he heard Isabella’s labored voice and the crash of breaking glass. He paused at the doors, sighed and pushed one of the doors open.

The large room was a disaster. A beautifully carved mahogany side table was overturned and a 17^th century Chinese vase lay in pieces on the ground. A figure, clad in black, wearing a wire mask and wielding a sword was, advancing on Isabella, who was backed nearly to the far wall.

Suddenly, she was driven all the way to the wall by the ominous, sword wielding figure. The black figure was clearly a man – large and skilled with the use of his deadly instrument. Sanjeep watched as he lunged toward Isabella, sword extended in a finishing thrust.

She ducked to the side of the sword and deftly slid behind the man as his sword implanted itself in the wall.

“Chai Miss?” asked Sanjeep casually.

Isabella spun towards him, green eyes blazing, and quick as lightning let fly a knife. Sanjeep saw it hurtle end over end towards him. He felt the slight breeze as it whizzed past his head and heard the thump as it struck point end first into the wall behind him.

“Yes,” said Isabella. She shook her long, brown loose and it tumbled down around her shoulders. “Chai would be very nice. Thank you Sanjeep.”

“And for Mister David?” said Sanjeep to the man in black.

Isabella’s cousin David Ambrose pulled off the fencing mask with a grin.

“You know I can’t resist that bloody Indian concoction of yours,” he said. “What do you put in it anyway, opium?”

“Of course, Mister David,” said Sanjeep smiling. “And many other mysterious and potent drugs of the far East. It is the secret of the Rajas.”

“Okay,” laughed David. “But someday you’ll tell me how it’s made.”

“Sanjeep will never break his Hindoo oath of secrecy,” said Isabella. “Isn’t that right?”

With his free hand, Sanjeep mimed turning a key to lock his mouth shut and set the tray down on a table that hadn’t been jostled in the sparring.

“I do hope that Miss remembered tonight is the appearance of the miraculous Mr. General Tom Thumb at the Egyptian Hall,” said Sanjeep.

Isabella saw the look of concern on her butler’s face and knew better than to kid him about the show. Sanjeep was obsessed with Tom Thumb, the diminutive side-show performer. She knew he kept a rolled up poster from Tom Thumb’s previous London appearance in 1844 and had been dreaming of seeing him since the current appearances had been reported. He had a ticket for this same evening and had been trying with mixed success to keep his excitement in check.

Tom Thumb was all the rage and his appearances had been drawing crowds all week. In fact, he had been invited to Buckingham Palace the following night at the request of the Queen herself. Isabella was to attend the appearance at Buckingham Palace.

She suspected that Sanjeep’s fascination was rooted in his Indian background. She was partly correct. As an Indian, Sanjeep grew up in a highly stratified society with firm castes. The fact that a midget could become such a celebrity struck him as a wonder of the modern age. But, he also had heard of the slapstick the short man was famous for and couldn’t help but be drawn in. Sanjeep loved silly comedy.

“Of course,” said Isabella. “We can manage from here. You go prepare for the big night.”

Sanjeep gave a small bow and started to turn for the door,

“David,” said Isabella. “Don’t you have something for Sanjeep before he goes?”

“I say,” he said. “”That’s right. Nearly forgot.”

He reached into a pocket and pulled out a sealed envelope.

“Take this with you old chap,” he said. “Show it to the stage manager at the back door after the show. He’ll take you in to meet Tom Thumb personally. Do enjoy yourself.”

Tears of gratitude welled in Sanjeep’s eyes.

***

David and Isabella dined together that evening at the Ship and Turtle in Leadenhall Street – one of the best places in London for real turtle dishes. As cousins, they had much to talk about – family, common friends and, of course, Sanjeep’s big night out.

“That was wonderful of you to arrange that meeting for him,” said Isabella.

“It was nothing at all,” said David. “Barnum had been to the house on their last tour and was kind enough to write the letter.”

“Still…”

“Come on,” he said. “We both know Sanjeep is positively daffy about this Tom Thumb. It was the least I could do for him.”

“I do hope he’s having a good time.”

“I’m sure it’s something he’ll never forget,” said David raising his glass. “To the adventure of a lifetime.”

***

Sanjeep hadn’t laughed so hard in years, maybe even ever. It was all he had hoped for and more and now he was about to meet Tom Thumb. The stage manager led him back to the dressing room where the star was changing after the show. The big man rapped quickly on the door and opened it.

“Well go on in then,” he said.

“Yes,” said a higher pitched voice inside. “Come in.”

Sanjeep hesitated and then stepped into the dressing room. There, sitting on a miniature child’s chair in front of a mirror was the star himself. Sanjeep was tongue tied for a moment, but managed to get out his name and express that he was a big fan.

Tom Thumb, for his part, was the model of a gentleman through and through. He quickly made Sanjeep comfortable and the two fell into a lively conversation while the performer removed his stage makeup. They talked about New York City, the wilds of India and the miniature carriage that P.T. Barnum had made for his small star. The diminutive steam carriage caused stares whenever he took it out on the London streets. He planned on appearing in it at Buckingham Palace the following evening. He knew it would be a hit since the miniature horse carriage he appeared in back in 1844 had the Queen in stitches.

Nearly forty minutes had passed with the two conversing like old friends when suddenly the room went dark. Sanjeep heard the shuffling of feet just before he felt something pound the back of his head. Then he heard and felt nothing.

***

Sanjeep gingerly opened his eyes. The room he was in was dark, but there was enough light coming in a pair of windows set high in the wall to make things out. It was some sort of warehouse building. The last thing he remembered was talking to Tom Thumb.

“Mr. General!” he gasped. He tried to get to his feet and found they were tied with rope. His hands, he realized, were tied behind his back.

The light from the windows made him realize that it was day time. What day he didn’t know, but it was a start. He was lying on his side, that was something too.

Looking into the gloom, he could make out all manner of strange things. He saw a mummy case and various Egyptian looking artifacts. He also saw a giant wheel with four iron shackles on it. There were knives stuck in it’s front surrounding a painted outline of a person. He had seen this thing before, but where?

His brain was still fuzzy and he couldn’t place it. Then he remembered where he had seen it. It had been used in a magic show he saw some time ago at the Egyptian Hall. He realized then that he was in a storage room for items used at the Egyptian Hall. It didn’t seem likely that this was part of the hall itself. It must be a warehouse somewhere else in the city.

Sanjeep rolled over and looked at the other side of the room. He saw a small steam carriage with a little man inside.

“Mister General!” he yelled. “Mister General Tom Thumb!”

“Mmmmmph,” was the response. “Mmmmmver mmmmere!”

But the response didn’t come from Tom Thumb. It came from…Tom Thumb! The little man was leaning against a crate, bound and gagged, off to the side of the room.

“Mmmmmver mmmmmere.”

Sanjeep rolled like a log over to the little General.

“Are you okay Mister Tom?” Tom Thumb nodded his head.

“But why are you tied up? And how can you be over there too?”

Tom Thumb couldn’t answer with the gag in his mouth so Sanjeep got no immediate answer. Using the crate, he slowly worked himself upright and then over to Tom Thumb. He could just reach the knotted cloth keeping the little man silent. With the knot behind him, he blindly maneuvered the knot loose and got the gag off.

“Dynamite,” said Tom Thumb. “There’s dynamite in the steam carriage.”

“Dynamite?”

“The Queen…Buckingham Palace!”

It all became clear. It was the next day now and Tom Thumb was supposed to appear at Buckingham Palace in the early evening. An elaborate dummy was in the carriage. It must have been set up to steer itself onto the grounds, up to the front entrance and when the Queen and her guests greeted it…

Looking up to the windows, Sanjeep could see that the light was turning red. It was nearing sunset. They didn’t have much time.

He tried to think. Isabella would know what to do. She could always be counted on to come up with a plan. But she wasn’t here. Isabella, Sanjeep remembered had planned on staying with David’s family last night. Their home was closer to the palace. She wouldn’t even know he had been abducted and she would be at the palace to greet the carriage.

“Think,” he said out loud. “Think you dimwitted man.”

Just then there was noise outside. Someone was unlocking the outer door.

“Pretend you’re asleep,” Sanjeep whispered to Tom Thumb as he rolled himself down onto the floor.

***

The door opened and was quickly closed. Two men had entered the room.

“Check them two out,” said the first man. “I’ll start this ‘ere boiler.”

The second man walked over to Sanjeep and Tom Thumb.

“Oi, they’re still out cold. The little one’s lost his gag though.”

“Never mind that. It won’t matter once we get this thing out of ‘ere. It’ll only be a few minutes before the boiler’s ‘ot enough. Let’s wait outside. I ‘ate this place, gives me the Willy’s it does.”

As soon as the men left, Sanjeep got himself upright again.

“I have an idea,” he whispered to Tom Thumb. The little man nodded.

“You need to pull out this pin on my jacket with your teeth,” whispered Sanjeep and nodded down to an exotic looking pin on his lapel. It was serpent -the color of rich, high-karat, Indian gold and had two gleaming jewel eyes.

“Okay.”

Tom Thumb quickly worked the pin out and held it in his teeth.

“Now pass it to me.”

Sanjeep leaned forward and took the pin from Tom Thumb’s mouth with his own teeth.

“Don’t go getting any ideas now,” whispered Tom Thumb. “That don’t mean we’re dating or anything.”

Sanjeep grinned and rolled himself over to the carriage. He worked himself up and against the imposter Tom Thumb inside. Up close, he could see it was a good likeness with a wax face and gears to create lifelike movement. He could also see that the carriage was packed with dynamite – a lot of dynamite. As quickly as he could, Sanjeep stuck the pin to the imposter’s lapel. He knew it was a long shot, but it’s all he could do. He rolled himself back to Tom Thumb.

“That’s it?”

“If Miss Isabella sees that pin on you…or your, how do you say, dopelgang…she’ll know something is wrong.”

“That’s a big ‘if’.”

“This is very true,” whispered Sanjeep. “It is out of our hands now. When these men leave, we must remove our ropes and go to Buckingham.”

At the sound of the door unlocking, Sanjeep rolled to the ground and he and Tom Thumbed once again feigned sleep.

***

The crowd outside the gates cheered as Tom Thumbs steam carriage turned and entered the Buckingham Palace grounds. It made its way toward the group of invited nobility, guests of note, and the Queen herself.

Isabella leaned forward to see better as it approached. Tom Thumb was smiling and giving a jerky parade wave as the carriage passed and drew to a stop in front of the Queen. The setting sun cast a warm glow on the carriage and Tom Thumb. Isabella smiled at the sight. Then she saw a glint of light reflect off a pin on Tom Thumb’s coat. It was familiar somehow.

“Sanjeep?” she said aloud.

“What?” asked David.

“Sanjeep’s pin,” she said. “What is it doing…”

Isabella didn’t finish. She shoved forward, knocking a Member of Parliament into his wife and jostling past several Ladies.

“Get back!” she yelled to the startled group and ran toward the Queen and pushed her away. “Get back!”

“I say!” shouted someone.

“What the deuce!”

Isabella ignored the clamour and jumped onto the carriage. She quickly scanned the machine. Someone tried to pull her off, but she kicked her leg out and caught whoever it was in the face. Spotting a lever, she shoved it forward and the carriage started slowly rolling. It picked up some momentum and Isabella turned the wheel and dived away. The carriage continued forward and then exploded in a fiery ball.

Through the smoke, Isabella could hear the sounds of yelling and then police sirens. She could see men in military dress uniforms and tall, black fur hats whisking the short, stout figure of the Queen inside the palace. David was running over to her as two Sterling Police Broughams pulled up.

“Are you alright?” asked David as he kneeled beside her.

“I think so…” she said. “Is…is…”

“No one is seriously hurt,” he said. “Just some cuts and scrapes. But, I think you may have broken the Prime Minister’s nose.”

Isabella looked at him and he nodded. She managed a small smile.

“Serves him right. Imagine, grabbing at a lady’s leg like that.”

Sanjeep rushed out of the back of one of the police vehicles.

“Miss! Miss Isabella!” he yelled. “Are you…is she okay?”

“She’s going to be fine,” said David. “Just fine.”

“I’m afraid I lost your lovely jeweled pin though.”

“My pin,” sputtered Sanjeep. “You think I’m worried about my pin? Miss is the only jewel I care about.”

***

Several days later, the whole story came out.

Isabella had, of course, recognized the pin and known that Sanjeep would never give away such a family heirloom – not even to the illustrious Mister General Tom Thumb. She knew something was wrong, but it wasn’t until she jumped onto the carriage that she realized just how seriously wrong. That’s when she saw the imposter Tom Thumb and the dynamite and understood a plot was unfolding to assassinate the Queen and as many dignitaries as possible.

Her quick thinking got the carriage just far enough away that no one was seriously injured. No one except the Prime Minister, whose nose she did indeed break. He harboured no grudge however.

“Better to have a broken nose than have my bloody head blown up,” he was reported to have said.

Sanjeep and Tom Thumb have been able to free themselves quickly enough that Sanjeep was able to set off running toward the palace. He flagged down a police vehicle and they raced to the palace. They arrived just after the two men had set their plot in motion and were making their escape.

Sanjeep recognized the men and captured one while the police apprehended the other. The men, it turned out, were part of an anarchist group. One of them worked at the Egyptian Hall and hatched the plot some months earlier when he learned that Tom Thumb would be appearing there.

The other man was a machinist and created the elaborate gearing that allowed the imposter steam carriage to seemingly steer itself. He simply set the gears to turn, slow down and stop at pre-measured intervals. The dynamite had a timer set to go off after the carriage pulled to a stop.

Sanjeep and Isabella were called to the palace a couple of days later and thanked by the Queen. Sanjeep was knighted and presented with as close a copy of his pin as could be made. Although both he and Isabella knew that mere gold and jewels could never replace the one he had sacrificed, neither said a word of it.

Afterwards, both Isabella and David took great pleasure in irritating Sanjeep by continually referring to him as Sir Sanjeep. And, though he feigned irritation, he was very proud.

Isabelle Beauchamp and the Audley Street Spectre

2011-04-01T18:55:00.003-05:00

(A chapter from The Isabelle Beauchamp Adventures. Just a bit of good, clean fun...enjoy.)

***

Isabella Beauchamp set the large gold beetle down on the table in irritation. Despite her copious notes from Everton’s Encyclopaedia Hieroglyphae, the words inscribed on it remained a mystery. Even the cartouche was impossible to decipher.

The ruby eyes of the large scarab stared tauntingly at her. She stared petulantly back at it. Perhaps, she thought, if it blinked first it would be forced to reveal its mysteries. She was startled by a cough behind her. Turning, she saw Sanjeep, her Hindoo butler.

“Miss Isabella,” said Sanjeep. “I am very much sorry to disturb you, but there is a caller.”

“But it’s well past nine. Who in the world is calling this late?”

Sanjeep entered the study and handed her a card. It was neatly printed on heavy stock with the name Lady Evelyn Crabbtree. Isabelle covered the gold beetle with a silk cloth and turned back to her butler.

“Very well Sanjeep,” she said. “Let us see what Lady Evelyn finds so urgent this evening. Bring her in won’t you.”

“Of course. Shall I see to some refreshment as well?”

“Yes. I suppose that would be a good idea.”

“Very well,” said Sanjeep turning toward the door.

“Sanjeep,” said Isabella. “See to it that her driver gets something as well. He’s probably wishing he was at home in bed instead of…well. Just see to him.”

***

Isabella couldn’t help thinking of a caged rat as she waited for Lady Evelyn to come to the point of her visit. The older woman paced back and forth with a pinched look as she failed repeatedly to string together a coherent story.

“It’s that,” said Lady Evelyn. “Well, you know, I don’t normally subscribe to those sorts of beliefs…”

“No?”

“Of course not,” said Lady Evelyn, finally stopping her pacing. “Everyone knows those occultists and mediums are charlatans. I’ve never seen why reasonable people have to believe in such silly things as ghosts and apparitions. I mean, really, spectres.”

“Very practical of you.”

“What? Yes, of course. I am, by nature, a practical person. I believe in common sense.”

“Not ghosts.”

“Well...”

“Until now that is. Now that you have something that doesn’t make any sense.”

“At first I dismissed it as the servants’ silly superstitions,” said Lady Evelyn. “The thought of it, my house haunted.”

The older woman twisted a handkerchief in her hands. She looked at Isabella as if hoping that she wouldn’t have to continue her tale. Isabella waited in silence until Lady Evelyn began again.

“The maids said that things were being moved when no one was in the rooms. Then they started on about noises and strange feelings late at night. I tried to calm them, but they were all in a state and wouldn’t hear me. Before I knew it, they had all given notice and I was left without any help except my driver.”

Lady Evelyn paused again.

“And then I started hearing the noises,” she said with a shiver. “The horrible noises, I couldn’t sleep a wink. Then tonight, I saw it. It was a glowing mass floating in the air. I came here at once.”

“You were wise to do so Lady Evelyn.”

Isabella got up from her chair and walked to the bookcase. She pulled a large, midnight-blue, leather-bound volume out and opened it. Flipping through several pages, she found the one she was looking for and set it down on the table next to the covered beetle. The page showed a map of London crisscrossed with lines of various colors and thicknesses.

“What was the address again?” she asked.

“It is *** Audley Street,” answered Lady Evelyn.

Isabella followed the street with her finger.

“Near Grosvener Square?”

“Yes. That’s right.”

When she found the spot on her map, Isabella frowned. It was directly on top of the intersection of two of the colored lines. Both of them where fairly thick. Not good, she thought.

“And the problems started when?” asked Isabella.

“They began in earnest Friday last.”

The day before the full moon, thought Isabella. The perigee-syzygy, or so-called super moon, when the full or new moon drew closest to the earth. No, this was not good at all.

***

Isabella would have preferred to take the Stirling Phaeton Velocicar. She always enjoyed the rush of gliding quietly through the streets of London late at night. The Stirling allowed her that, but the two-seater wasn’t practical for this night. Instead she rode in the steam powered Victoria Brougham with Lady Evelyn. The Victoria, being steam powered, was still a quick vehicle, but it required the services of Chapman, her driver.

It was after 11 o’clock by the time they sent Lady Evelyn’s driver away, Chapman had the boiler heated and they were on the way to Lady Evelyn’s home on Oxford Street. Most of the society crowd had followed the social calendar to the country, leaving those still in the city a quiet peace before the whirl of parties, concerts, gallery exhibits and blushing, scheming, unmarried young women once again took center stage.

This quiet time of the social season had the added benefit of leaving the streets relatively empty. Those of higher status who remained in the city generally took to bed early and the newly expanding west side of the city held little of interest for the working classes at this hour.

Isabella would normally love the drive through the late night streets, but Lady Evelyn’s agitation grew as they drew nearer to her home. It didn’t seem possible, but the older woman grew more like a trapped rat as they drove.

“Perhaps it would be best if you remained with Chapman when we arrive,” said Isabella.

“What?” said Lady Evelyn. “Yes, yes, of course. If you think it best.”

“I do.”

Dealing with the supernatural was always tricky, but the presence of someone in Lady Evelyn’s state could add an element of danger that Isabella was loathe to accept. She had seen the effect the fear of the inexperienced could have on the world of aether and spirits.

***

Chapman skillfully pulled the Brougham up to the curb in front of *** Audley Street. He stepped around and opened the door for Isabella and then went to the back of the gleaming vehicle. He opened the boot and pulled out a strange machine constructed of wood and brass.

The E.C.R.U. was much more than it’s simple exterior revealed. Its interior was a machine of scientific complexity. The original had been designed by Isabella’s father and built with the backing of her uncle Lord Reginald Farthington. This model had been modified by Isabella herself. The initials stood for Ectoplasm Containment and Removal Unit and its purpose was exactly that.

The E.C.R.U relied on advances in the ectoplastic sciences to allow the operator to first restrain unruly spirits and then contain them in its containment unit. Once contained, the spirits could be removed to be dealt with safely.

Chapman helped strap the unit on Isabella’s back and handed her a belt with several detection apparatuses.

“Will you be wanting the Arachnid net gun as well Miss?” he asked.

Isabella thought for a moment before replying. The Arachnid was useless when dealing with spirits. It was indispensable when dealing with more solid beings of the supernatural world. The two short barrels of the gun could be equipped with shells that fired nets woven of extremely strong and light synthetic spider thread.

“Yes,” she said. “I don’t think it will be necessary Chapman, but one can never be too prepared.”

“Indeed Miss. One never can be too prepared.”

Isabella checked the two chambers and saw that it was already loaded with one standard shell and one with a blend of spider and iron thread. It was unlikely that she would need the second, but her map had indicated that a Fae line ran directly under the house in front of her. Better safe than sorry, she thought again.

Prepared now, she leaned into the Brougham and asked Lady Evelyn for the key to the front door.

***

The house was eerily quiet. All the servants but the driver had turned in their notices and left when the disturbances started. The driver didn’t live in the house proper, so he had never experienced any apparitions.

Isabella crossed the marble floor of the entryway and started checking rooms. From what Lady Evelyn had told her, there were seldom any problems on the main floor, but she wanted to be thorough. Assured that there was nothing amiss on the first floor, she moved up the stairs to the check the family’s bedrooms. These proved to be clear of anything untoward as well and she started to wonder if Lady Evelyn was suffering from nerves rather than ghosts.

When she moved further upstairs to the servants’ room, though, she noticed the first twitches of her ectoplasmeter. There were definitely traces here, but the meter stayed stubbornly well clear of the red zone that indicated a nearby presence.

Taking the back stairs, Isabella headed back downstairs. Her meter continued to pick up traces as she made her way to the kitchen and pantry. Seeing that the needle ticked up as she passed the door to the wine cellar below the house, she opened the door. The needle sprung up into the red zone.

Inside the door, at the top of the stairs, was a small shelf with several candles pieces and matches. Unlike the rest of the house, the cellar wasn’t gas lit. Isabella lit a larger piece of candle and started down the stairs.

Before she had gone several steps, the door suddenly slammed shut. A draft blew out her candle, leaving her in darkness.

“Oh bother!”

Isabella stumbled back up the stairs and fumbled in the dark for the shelf with the matches. She grabbed a handful and pocketed them in her coat. She then re-lit the candle and started back down again. There was another gust from below, but she had been expecting this and had her left hand cupped around the candle to block it.

“Now you’re just being irritating,” she said to the gloom of the cellar.

Just past the shelves of dusty Bordeaux, she caught sight of it. A glowing mist hovered in air near the back wall. It wasn’t big, maybe the size of a small child, and it didn’t glow very brightly. That was good. It wasn’t powerful, more a presence than a full-fledged ghost.

“Alright then,” she said reaching back and flipping a switch on the E.C.R.U. The machine started to hum and vibrate lightly on her back. “Let’s try and keep this civilized.”

The glowing presence pulsed and grew brighter, but still not enough to worry her. She pulled a gun-like machine from a holster on her hip. It was attached by a long, flexible tube to the E.C.R.U. She pointed it at the presence and pulled the trigger. Green strands of light shot from the end and encircled the presence. The glowing thing let out a squeal and was quickly sucked back through the gun and the hose into the E.C.R.U.

Isabella checked the ectoplasmeter and saw that it was once again picking up only traces.

“Well,” she said, relieved. “That’s that.”

No sooner had Isabella taken several steps back toward the stairs when a horrendous howl filled the cellar. Several wine bottles flew off the shelves, only just missing her head.

Isabella spun to face a figure crouched as if to spring at her. It looked vaguely like a young woman wearing nothing but a thin, wet shift. The shift clung to the creature’s body and now that her eyes had focused, Isabella saw that wet strands of mossy algae hung from its hair. The creature’s appearance shifted – first looking like a beautiful girl and then a hideous froglike beast.

The creature jumped at her, flying through the air with bared teeth that gleamed like polished pearl daggers. Isabella dove to the side, crashing into a shelf of wine. Bottles fell and broke, leaving blood-red pools on the brick floor.

The creature spun and jumped at her again. This time it lashed out with a claw like hand and slashed her arm. Isabella screamed and rolled away. The candle fell to the ground but, miraculously, continued burning.

With a fluid motion born of hours of practice, Isabella drew the Arachnid net gun, aimed and fired the first chamber. The synthetic spider web spread and ensnared the creature. It thrashed and bellowed, no longer looking anything like a young girl.

The creature growled and, with a swiftness that surprised Isabella, tore free from the net, It sprang forward, claws outstretched, and Isabella fired the second chamber.

The effect was stunning. As the web again snared the creature, it released a mighty bellow. Smoke began to rise from its skin and its face contorted in pain and anger. It again tore away the net, but instead of attacking it dove for the farthest, darkest corner of the cellar and disappeared.

Isabella brushed broken glass from her skirt and picked up the candle. She cautiously crept forward to where the creature disappeared. There she found a small opening at the base of the wall. It looked like a very old drain. An iron grate lay to the side of the opening. She picked it up and placed it over the opening.

***

Back at her own home, after having first settling Lady Evelyn in rooms at the Grosvener Hotel, Sanjeep carefully cleaned and dressed the gashes in Isabella’s arm.

“Surely this wasn’t a ghost Miss,” he said.

“No,” she said. “It was a Fell Affranc.”

“A water spirit?”

“Not a nice one either. Fetch me the green book on the third shelf, I’ll show you.”

Sanjeep went to the shelves and pulled the book down. He handed it to Isabella and she flipped through several pages, stopping at one with an engraving of a creature much like the one she encountered in Lady Evelyn’s wine cellar. She handed the book to Sanjeep.

He read the entry and looked at her questioningly.

“But it says these creatures inhabit swamps and shallow lakes.”

“And they do.”

“But…”

“But, what was it doing in Lady Evelyn’s cellar?”

“Yes Miss.”

“If I had to guess,” she explained. “It came in through the old drain. The grate was off to the side. It must have been removed when the Middle Level Sewer was being built under Oxford Street. All the houses in Mayfair were connected to that sewer.”

“Hmm…I see.”

“The perigee-syzygy caused an unusually high tide on the Thames. That’s where the Middle Level Sewer flows to.”

“It came in on the tide?”

“I think, perhaps, it did.”

“But why that house?”

“It was probably attracted by the ectoplasmic presence. The Fae are always attracted to that sort of thing and the house is built on an old Fae line too. Its appearance likely set off the presence which was probably there all along without causing any trouble.”

“It’s a fortuitous thing that you had the net with the iron thread then Miss.”

“Very fortunate indeed Sanjeep. Very fortunate.”

One can never be too prepared, she thought as Sanjeep left the room.

Interlude

2011-02-25T16:03:00.003-06:00

It's been nearly a year and a lot has happened. Equally true, not much has really happened in the past year. Rather than bore anyone - including myself - I've decided to use the old Hollywood trick to indicate the passing of time.

**Start dreamy montage**

(Imagine your own scenes for this. Just be sure to include some sunny days, some rainy days, some snow-filled days and end with a slightly older, fatter and tired me. Music would be helpful - I have no suggestions for you, so you're on your own.)

**End dreamy montage**

In Response To A Philosophy Post

2010-03-14T20:23:00.001-05:00

I was reading a blog and comment thread about philosophy, science and such that Josh posted a link to on Twitter. (Okay ignore how dorky that is on so many levels.) It was a post called "Non-foundationalism for the layman."

It was an interesting read. The author laid out some ideas and tied them to some other ideas and left enough unsaid to create some discussion. And the comments were certainly filled with discussion.

What I came away with, however, wasn't any better understanding of different philosophical approaches to finding what is true. What I came away with was two things.

First was a question. Why do philosophers always seem to clothe their ideas in the garments of other philosophers thoughts? Most conversations I hear or read between students (and here I mean anyone questing for knowledge through study) of philosophy seem to become clogged with allusions to philosophers and the theses they make. As an example, let me take a portion of a response to a comment by the author:

My encounters with Straussians left me respectful of and somewhat interested in the big names, but unconvinced of the total approach, probably because I was already into Alasdair MacIntyre before I met any Straussians.

Or a later response by someone else:

I am fine with not sticking my hand in any fires out of certainty about what will happen. I think you’re getting at Kantian distinction between noumenon and phenomenon here. I certainly think that we can judge the later, even if we have to make assumptions as to the former. As you say: “My belief that the word “fire” can’t ever perfectly correspond to the fire-in-itself in a transcendent way has never caused me to abandon my dedication to not sticking my hands in fires!”

Now, please don't get the idea that I am in any way holding any of this up for ridicule, because that is not my intention. I'm merely trying to relate something that I've often noticed in philosophical discussions.

As a layman, or mere philosophy dilettante, I am very clearly not well versed enough to offer much in the way of intellectual name dropping. But, I can see that for people who are well versed, this type of conversation could provide a shorthand of sorts. By referring to Kant (who, I hear, was a real piss ant), Nietzsche or Aristotle, one would also be referencing a whole series of ideas that these different thinkers have previously expounded upon.

It seems to veer away from what I have always perceived philosophy to be about though. That is, the simplification of our complicated world in such a way as to greater understand its meaning. (And, yes, that statement was a simplification itself.)

Anyway, after much thought, I'm still left wondering why philosophers so often use variations of "so and so said that x, thus y must be the case." Or to simplify further, why do they gotta use so dang many big words to say stuff?

I left with a second thing. (See, I didn't forget.) I left with a glimpse of truth. Or, perhaps, with a glimpse of a truth. It wasn't anything that was said in the blog or comments. It was more of a response to an underlying question in most philosophical discussions. What is the truth? It was clear and simple.

What is truth?

The sound of snow melting in the spring.

Not particularly elegant or ground breaking, but I think that might say just enough about life to be considered a truth. Then again, it could just be something that sounds neat to say. What do I know? Who am I? Why am I? Where...ahhh, forget it.

Just go out and hear the snow melt.

I'm tired of the foot stomping...just pass the thing

2010-02-26T14:33:00.006-06:00

Hearing clips from the health care reform summit yesterday did little to restore any faith in the qualities of the men and women given the opportunity to represent us in Washington. The softness of the Democrats and the foot stomping and constant "No! No! No!" of the Republicans was enough to drive me to madness.

The repeated chorus from the Republicans was that the majority of Americans don't want this health care reform. Despite poll after poll showing the opposite and the fact that they are a party voted into the minority, these bull-headed obstructionists continued saying it over and over. Seemingly, the mid-term victory of a charismatic Republican over a dull, apathetic Democrat for Ted Kennedy's old seat is all the proof they need to bolster this out-of-touch belief.

Granted many people do oppose health care reform. The polls show that a lot of people don't want the current offering to pass and that a lot of people do. On closer examination though, it turns out that most of the main parts taken individually receive overwhelming support - even from conservative voters. What this shows is that the Republicans have done a great job of repeating "government takeover" but a poor job of listening to what Americans want.

Anyone who isn't embarrassed by the state of health care availability in the United States is either incredibly lucky to have a stellar health insurance policy, or incredibly unaware and naive. We are the inheritors of a seriously flawed system that boasts some of the finest care available in the world, but also the most expensive and far from most effective care in the world.

The fault lies not in one or two places, but in many. Insurance companies are chalking up record profits, malpractice suits are out of control, costs of procedures are spiraling and drug costs are exploding. Any of these causes are complex and not easily explained or fixed. Regardless, they all need to be addressed.

Personally, I would love to say "fuck em all" and see a full government takeover. Eliminate the health insurance vultures, set prices for medical care and procedures, pay for the education of any doctors who sign on to practice medicine in the U.S. and tell the drug companies what we're willing to pay. That's what I would love to see. And, yes, that is socialism. It's socialism and I don't give a shit. That's how strong my frustration is. This system is broken and it needs to be fixed.

I'm not silly enough to believe something like that would ever happen. It's not a cure all. There is no magic bullet and that particular bullet would create a god-awful big mess. It would be such a big procedure that health care might not survive it. It's too drastic.

The proposed plan would also mean some big changes. Many people won't like it. So what. Don't like it? Stick with what you've got now.

The fact is, if the system isn't reformed drastically, it will not survive anyway. Less people have health insurance now than did two decades ago and those that do are facing increasingly high costs and limited benefits. Most people just haven't felt it yet because they've been buffered by their employers footing more of the bill. How long do you think that will continue?

In the last two weeks, Californians have seen a major insurance provider hike costs of policies by nearly 40 percent and another make a hike of over 30 percent. This in an economy that is seeing inflation at a near-record low.The economy is so weak that there is nearly no inflation and yet insurance giants are raising prices by nearly about 40 percent. There hasn't been a year in the last decade where inflation reached even four percent. Think about that and say with a straight face that serious reform isn't needed. And if you think that's only happening in California, you're not paying attention - just ask insurance buyers in Virginia.

Anyway, think what you will. I'm too tired and frustrated to even write any more about this. If you are even vaguely interested in health care reform, contact your Senator and your Representative. Let them know what you want. Maybe they'll put aside gamesmanship long enough to actually listen. I hope so. This shouldn't be a political game, it's about people's lives and health.

And...in more ass-hattery...

Jim Bunning says "tough shit" to extending unemployment benefits despite a nearly 10 percent unemployment rate. Here's his office number - 202-208-6611. I called and asked him to show some real solidarity with the unemployed and return his monthly paycheck to the treasury. It seemed like a good way for him to experience a little of the plight of the unemployed.

Is Google getting less Googletastic?

2010-02-21T14:44:00.003-06:00

I was reading a couple of blogs about SEO (search engine optimization) and it made me think about Google and how it's awesomeness seems to be failing.

I still remember the days of Yahoo, Ask Jeeves, Alta Vista and the other old school search engines. It wasn't a particularly great age of the internet back then. I had a small search aggregater that would do simultaneous searches on several search engines. That made things better, but it was a bit slow. The nice thing was that you could happily chance upon sites you never would have found on your own. Surfing at it's best.

Then Google started to blossom.

Google became the go-to search portal. All the cool kids were using it. Google left every other search engine in the dust because it did good searches. It was that plain and simple. Sure, there was a certain quality of coolness about it, but it was really the searches that set it apart.

Over the years, Google improved their algorithms and improved the quality of searches. That was a good thing. I still missed some of the old search engines and the fact that you could use them to get slightly different results, but the trade off was acceptable.

There's been a change going on lately though.

It seems that Google searches really aren't that great anymore. Maybe it's just me, but it seems like there are fewer really relevant hits and a lot more current event and commercial hits. Check it out the next time you Google something.

I'm not sure what this means - maybe nothing at all - but it does worry me a bit. When searches become nothing more than advertising, they become essentially worthless. Sometimes you want the Yellow Pages. Sometimes you really do want know how to make a spinning wheel and not buy one, or learn about Abraham Lincoln and not open an account at Lincoln National Savings and Loan.

Well...that's that...back to the Olympics and the new Blackberry.

There goes the suspense...

2010-02-19T21:16:00.003-06:00

I'm feeling lazy...but not too lazy to post something. This is actually part of a reply on Josh's blog about what's going to happen on Lost. So, without further ado, my guess about how Lost will end:

The whole cast is put on trial for breaking a Good Samaritan law, Jack doesn’t marry Winnie Cooper, they all reminisce about how they all met and leave one by one until only John and the Smoke Monster remain. John holds back a tear as he says they’ll probably never see each other again and Smoke Monster says not to worry about that and that he left a note for John – “Goodbye” spelled out in rocks. John leaves and Smoke Monster looks around the now-empty island, smiles and turns out the lights…and maybe an asteroid is in there somewhere too…and we learn that Kate married Pacie instead of Dawson when we see them watching the end of “Lost” and she wonders if they should call to congratulate Dawson.

So, there you have it. Now you have no need to watch Lost anymore. You're welcome.

Scattered pictures...

2010-02-16T13:48:00.002-06:00

Watched pairs figure skating last night.

The Canadian pair skated to 'The Way We Were', which I hummed in the shower this morning. The lyrics reminded me of you and I realized one more time that I miss you.

It's been twenty years and I still think about you - not every day, but often. I wish things had turned out differently. We had some wonderful dreams, didn't we? Life had different things in mind for us.

Glad we've remained friends all this time. Just thought I should let you know.

Damn figure skating.

For every person a niche and every niche a person

2010-02-09T18:46:00.002-06:00

It wasn't that long ago that there wasn't this thing we call the internet. Phones were just losing their cords and a couple people I knew were carrying around new mobile phones the size of Smart cars when I first caught a glimpse of this thing that would explode into our lives.

I was using a computer in the Poli Sci department at Oregon State University and opened up a connection to a bunch of other computers at colleges around the country. It felt like a scene out War Games. From this one computer, I could access what seemed like a wealth of knowledge. The only problem was that you had to know the language to talk to get to any of it. Try as I might, I couldn't figure out how to get these other computers to talk back to me. I could see there was interesting stuff out there, but it was no more accessible than exhibits on the other side of the world in the Louvre or the British Museum.

Mostly, what I found was a lot of indexes to information that was held at these other universities and a way to request copies be sent, by mail, to mine. Fascinating, but ultimately unsatisfying and only vaguely helpful unless you had a need for a specific book or study. My early hacking attempts were nipped in the bud by boredom.

The decade past and we got a Macintosh at home and I slowly stopped making fun of those guys with the mobile phones. The desktop revolution was in full swing and those phones got smaller and more popular. The Internet was opening up and bulletin boards were popping up all over it.

Fast forward - past the compact disc, the original MTV veejays who played actual music videos and airbags in every new car - to the brave new world of the internet, the internets, the tubes. Every kid has a cel phone and everyone - it seems - has some sort of web presence. If email was groundbreaking, then social networking has been earth shattering.

But what is this social networking?

There's an easy answer but not a not simple answer. It's this. In part, it's blogging, and yet blogging doesn't have to be part of it. It's about meeting new people and getting and staying in touch with old friends. It's part welcome wagon and part high school reunion. It can be as shallow as a "Hey Wazzup?" and as all consuming as an obsession.

Blogging is a big piece of the social pie. Who here hasn't found new and interesting people by following links on other peoples blogs? Sure, there's plenty of time that circles the drain, but there are also some new friends with shared interests that make it all worth while. I know my life has been enriched by the people I've met through blogging.

It's not just blogs in all their Blogger/WordPress/PersonalWebsite glory either. Spectacular and liberating as blogging has been - and still is - for many people, there are niches upon niches upon niches for everyone out in the social networking world. There's the once banner carrying MySpace and the now dominant Facebook. There's Second Life and Twitter and hundreds of other ways to connect in big ways and small.

Right now, I'm typing away on Blogger with a tab open to a story about Google coming out with Buzz that I found because Alyssa Milano read it and Tweeted it onTwitter. That's right, Alyssa Milano - the actress - tweeted it and myself and 1.4 million of her closest friends learned something new today.

For many, Twitter is nothing more than people telling you what they had for lunch today. It is. It's that and so much more. It's also making connections and being part of big, giant cocktail party. Some people are dull as sanded brick and many more are sterling conversationalists - albeit in exchanges 140 characters or less.

Sure, there's the lunch thing - I had a free Grand Slam breakfast with my brother, by the way. But, also got to take part in a lively free for all coming up with four word things said after having sex, eavesdropped on author/screenwriter/graphic novelist Neil Gaiman bantering with movie maker Kevin Smith, helped a fabulous musician in Alaska find info on adding an MP3 player to her website, caught up with an old blog buddy in San Francisco, poked fun at my friend Josh and heard instantly that President Obama was appearing in person at the White House press briefing after meeting with Congressional Republicans. Not a bad day's work.

Don't even get me started on all the old friends that Facebook has brought back into my life. Yeah, I've wasted plenty of time playing Farmville, but I've also found many people I never would have found otherwise. And now I get to have friends from old workplaces, high school and even old crushes from elementary school back in my life.

All this is really just a long-winded way of saying that social networking is an amazing wonder and we all get to take part in it. We get to make of it what we will. We can take a bit here or there or we can dive in the deep end and take it all. There's a little something for everyone and a lot to go around. Take a nibble or heap your plate and go back for seconds and third, it doesn't matter.

It's an amazing world we live in. I feel lucky to be alive in our times and I feel honored to share the ride with all of you - friends old and new - out there. Thanks for sharing your lives with me and taking an interest in my mine. Hopefully, we're all a bit enriched by the experience.

Now, if you wouldn't mind, pass that pie...

Learn how to drink

2010-02-08T19:13:00.001-06:00

Why do all stories about getting so drunk you can't remember anything always include a detailed report of how many shots you had...amateurs.

Ummm...okay

2010-02-04T13:52:00.001-06:00

Note to self...adding peanut butter and hot pepper to top ramen doesn't make it Thai food. That is all...carry on.

Punk this Phil

2010-02-02T16:59:00.003-06:00

Groundhog Day...shadow...hmmm. I think I'm okay with this. The standard line is to moan about more winter, but I just don't feel like it.

First of all, it's been a pretty mild winter here. We just got our first snowfall in over a month. What's to complain about if you haven't had to shovel out all year? I guess I wouldn't mind a bit more snow. It's still February for cryin' out loud. If it's still snowing in May or June, I'll get back to you on how I'm handling it.

Secondly...it's a groundhog. A groundhog!

No wonder nobody is worried about humans trashing the environment and perhaps...wait for it...contributing to climate change. Maybe if The Groundhog was letting us know about climate change, Americans would believe it. Science? Hell no...we got it from The Groundhog.

Don't get me wrong, I don't have a thing against The Groundhog. He made a great movie and was smart enough to cast Andie McDowell in it. Clearly, The Groundhog knows his hot women. Ladies man yes...brilliant scientist...ummm, no.

So, let's just all remember that The Groundhog is a celebrity and a movie maker, but that doesn't mean he knows anything about science and weather. Respect the guy for his achievements, but listen to what he says about things out of his areas of expertise with a certain amount of, well, skepticism.

I just wish there was a way to tie these thoughts to a bigger message about the current shallowness of our society...but it's not like we listen to politicians instead of scientists, or labor to send our kids to college and still call the very professors they're learning from liberal elites in sneering tones. Nobody took what an unemployed plumber not really named Joe as gospel during an election for the highest office in the land after all.

Maybe, if there were things like that to point to...

One is an amazing number if it's your birthday

2010-01-25T20:49:00.004-06:00

Sunday offered up a fun afternoon. Went over to my brother and sister-in-law's place for a birthday get together for my little niece. It was her first birthday and as is usual for this kind of thing, she didn't have a clue what was going on but sure found it neat that there were so many people - big and little - were around.

It is kind of funny to notice that even when people send out invites with "no presents please" on them - in this case in all caps and followed by "seriously" - invitees are almost culturally incapable of not showing up with a gift. I was no different, but in my case it was because I had stopped by earlier in the week and my niece claimed emminent domain on my new hat and it looked so cute on her that her mom and dad asked me if I could make that her present. That's her in her hat with her dad in the photo.

Anyway, it was sort of nice to hang out with family and friends for a wholesome, slice of American life kind of way.

Are You Wearing Cashmere Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?

2010-01-22T19:35:00.003-06:00

Sometimes you just never know when the meter on the day is going to peg out at stupendous. It didn't seem like that much of a day, but lo and behold...

Stopped at Goodwill for some bargain hunting today. I looked and looked and was beginning to think I was gonna get skunked. Then I found a really cool Ex-Officio shirt. It was a cool color and like new. Sadly, it was a bit too big. Tried on a couple of nice jackets, but they just didn't quite do it for me. As I was putting stuff back on the racks, I stumbled upon a great feel.

What? Surely this isn't just a coat? Guess what? It wasn't...

There, quietly waiting on the rack was a cashmere coat. It was a nice dark grey - not quite charcoal, but not quite slate. There wasn't a sign of wear anywhere on this beauty either.

I tried it on and as my arms slid smoothly into the sleeves and I pulled it on, my first thought was 'this is like butter.' It fit great.

And the best part? It was under 10 dollars! Life, my friends, is pretty damn nice sometimes.

Tomorrow I'm going to clean my place...a coat this nice needs a tidy, well-cleaned place to live!

Maybe Vampires That Sparkle Are Okay

2010-01-21T10:12:00.003-06:00

The other morning, my brother and I were driving out to Brookfield. It was nice and sunny for the thirty minute drive. The sunshine was a welcome break from the previous few days of grey skies.

Looking out the window, I saw a remarkable sight. As we moved along the road, the snow caught the sunlight and sparkled. That's nothing new. The light bounces of the variously angled crystals and creates a sparkle effect. What was amazing was that it just kept on going and going.

Signpost by signpost, the sparkling kept up. And it wasn't just right along the side of the road. When we passed open fields, I could see sparkles far out into the distance - forty, fifty, sixty yards. Incredible.

Somewhere along the line, it reminded me of something. What you ask? Well, it looked almost exactly like the cheesy sparkling skin effect for the vampires in the Twilight movies. The idea from the books being that vampires avoid sunlight not because they burst into flames, but because their skin sparkles in a crystalline and clearly otherworldly way. In other words they avoid sunlight so as not to call attention to themselves.

The sparkle effect wasn't a deal breaker for me, but I do have to admit a couple of things. First, not only did I indeed read all the books and enjoy them, but I've also seen the movies and liked them too. Second, I hated the sparkling bits.

Driving along watching the snow sparkle in some bizarre, beautiful way, I suddenly didn't mind the Twilight special effects so much anymore. Even when a live Cheap Trick came on the radio and the sparkles took on the look of thousands of flashes going off during a Super Bowl kickoff, the feeling stuck with me. Maybe, just maybe, sparkling vampires are okay.

The Knits Keep On Coming

2010-01-18T09:05:00.004-06:00

Maybe it's the winter, maybe it's the unemployment, but I can't seem to stop this whole knitting thing. It started innocently enough with a scarf. How can a scarf be bad?

On it's own, a scarf isn't much more than something to keep your neck warm. But it's not such an innocent thing. It's really a gateway to knitting depravity. First a scarf, then a hat and the next thing you know you're trolling yarn shops trying to figure out how much yarn you need to buy to make a sweater you don't even know how to make yet.

Okay, maybe it's not that bad. I mean, really, I only made a scarf.

Ummmm...well...about that...

Figured out how to do some fingerless gloves, which turned out pretty well. Nice enough to give them away to one of my favorite bartenders, Rachel. And she hasn't hid them in the bottom of her laundry basket to avoid wearing them.

Then there was a hat. I'm keeping that one. It's sort of a tight-fitting beanie. It seems like the sort of hat you would wear checking out the waves on the dawn patrol. Warm enough to keep the noggin warm, but not too bulky to wear to the bar. In fact, I wore it when I went to the bar to watch the Chargers/Jets game.

So, I guess a scarf isn't just a scarf.

2010-01-16T09:43:00.003-06:00

Ventured down to the tea room on Thursday for Brynn's art opening. I'm finding myself less and less desirous of stopping in the longer I've been away, but it was for Brynn and I had promised.

She had a nice showing of some of her travel photos. They were mostly people pictures, which was nice, and they really captured a lot of joy even in some dreary places. They were primarily photos taken in Uganda and in India.

Anyway, had some tea, bypassed the wine and had some good food. It was a nice opening and I was really proud of Brynn. She had a great time. So, it was worthwhile.

Don't get caught out on Packers Day

2010-01-10T10:22:00.007-06:00

I've got to take my Mom to the store pretty soon. It's NFL playoff time and the Packers play this afternoon. I'm pretty sure there's a special place in Guantanamo for anyone caught out on the streets at game time. You think I'm perhaps exagerating a tad... Ask anyone in Wisconsin and they'll probably be able to tell you a tale of an uncle or brother who tried to run to the store on a Packer day and never returned.

So, knowing all that...why is it so hard to get moving this morning? I know I want to get this taken care of as soon as I can, but can't seem to get beyond making a cup of coffee. I guess I just have to grab myself by the scruff of the neck and drag myself whining to the shower and get myself dressed and out into the car.

Or...I could just take a nap.

***Just found this goodie...

It's good stuff and good for you too. The album can be found athttp://www.ottmarliebert.com/rose/. It's a free download. The artists ask that you make a donation to a worthy cause.

Knittle me this Batman

2010-01-08T11:00:00.006-06:00

Yesterday was a nice snow day. It started snowing during the night and continued all day long. Light and powdery too...so, easy cleanup. We were supposed to get about 10 inches. we might have come close to that, but it seems like a bit less.

Anyway, it's pretty today. Everything is so fresh looking. But, I have to admit I like the day of a snow storm better than the day after. It's nice to have that snowed-in feeling. A cup of coffee, a project, and a view of the falling snow.

Just before Christmas, I had a strong urge to learn how to knit. I know, "boys don't knit", but what do I care? I have always loved thick, hand-knit wool sweaters and have always wished I could make one. The urge stayed with me through the holiday so after Christmas came and went, I bought some yarn, needles and a couple of books.

You have to walk before you run and I hadn't even stood up on my own yet. After some false starts, I finally figured out just what "cast on" meant and puzzled out how to create a knit stitch. It took a day of trying to limp through that only to not like what I saw and pull it apart to start again. The only thing that happened quickly was that I mastered starting and pulling apart. It wasn't until later that I found out that the pulling apart was called "frogging".

Frog master, master of the frog, frog daddy...the frustration built.

Day two saw some progress. And, oddly, the progress sped up. I was doing the simplest knitting process possible, something called a garter stitch. It's basically just the same thing over and over again. Knit a row, flip it around and knit another row. It wasn't exactly fun, but it was satisfying in an odd sort of way.

I went through a skein of yarn. That's more than a ball and less than a hank. Most of the yarn you can buy at the local store comes in a skein. I went back to the store and picked up some more yarn. I was going to use the same color and just keep going, then decided I didn't want to drive all the way to the same store I originally bought the yarn at.

That led to learning how to do horizontal stripes. Oddly enough, the pictures in my books and the accompanying descriptions didn't look like blueprints for a nuclear power plant and this part of the job was easy. And, more important, easy to learn.

Around this point, it started to get fun. Maybe it was the visible progress or maybe the whole finally "getting it" thing.

I plowed on and on and on.

Finally, all that was left was to finish it. Back to the books I went. It might as well have been ancient Sumerian. I couldn't figure out what the heck they were talking about. Thankfully, my friend Mel has been knitting forever and she explained it to me. Of course, it was amazingly easy once you knew how it was supposed to be done.

So, there you have it - boys can knit. And, now that we've had a great snow storm, I'm glad that boys can knit because my new scarf is really, really warm.

Faded into oblivion...

2009-02-12T13:27:00.003-06:00

"Hi, my name is Shawn and I'm a blog slacker."

"Hi Shawn!"

"I had a blog that I used to post to all the time and now I never even look at it. It's been two months since I posted anything at all on it or responded to any comments. I'm a bad person..."

"Yeah...you are a bad person and you have a serious problem!"

"Wait! I thought this was supposed to be a support group?"

"Hah! We got your support right here!"

Sometimes there's not much to say

2008-12-04T14:17:00.003-06:00

Still alive and kicking... Thanksgiving was excellent. The food was good and the time seemed to slide by pretty darn quick. That's a new twist for our family get togethers. I left wanting to eat some more and wanting to hang out a bit longer. New twist - and certainly a nice twist.

We had our first real snow a few days ago. It wasn't too terribly aggravating. I don't have to really shovel at my place, and that makes a world of difference. With any luck, it will be a mild winter. Now that I said that we'll probably get two feet tonight.

Read a few good books lately, but I don't have the energy and time to blog about them today. Maybe that will be my next post...

Hmmm...what to be?

2008-10-31T10:36:00.002-05:00

Two thoughts for Halloween costumes this year:

1) A mime with a cast, crutches, bandaged head, etc. and a sign that says, "People really DO hate mimes".

2) A cardboard television set to wear so that I can be a sitcom.

Oh, the fun and hi jinx that could ensue! Or, I may just stay home and read a book. I'm well into a Murakami book called "Norwegian Wood" and it's not a bad little read. I can see why he's a popular writer, he taps the little daily things that mean a lot to us even though we don't realize it at the time.

Work has been slow. The economy and time of year aren't helping us out much at all. It has given us some time to do some little projects. Merchandise shelves rearranged, some little packages assembled from some annoying tea cup overstock and a couple ounces of tea, and moving Gregg's shrine upstairs. Now we need a new shrine though. Gladly, I haven't had to fire anyone or run any ads on Craigslist for servers. So, all in all, not a terrible couple of weeks with the bosses gone.

Re-start your engines...

2008-10-26T01:53:00.009-05:00

I realized that I needed some change in my life...so I changed my blog template. Crazy, I know. That's just how incredibly exciting life is right now. One cool thing about changing the template is that I looked back at some old posts and old comments. I had forgotten how much fun I used to have sitting up late and blogging.

This was from 10/06/2005:

"In the last couple of days, I have discovered one pretend thing I would be excellent at and one pretend thing for which I have no aptitude. And no, I wasn't smoking dope...

I would be an excellent announcer of pretend Formula One, or Indy Car, races. I tried it and I rocked. That doesn't even capture how great at it I was - I was truly awesome. Mostly, I believe my forte in the field of pretend car race announcing would be calling classic pretend races, especially those in which Emerson Fitapaldi plays a prominent role. What can I say? We all have our gifts.

That said, I would suck at narrating pretend science fiction movies. I have no talent for it. Zero. Maybe even less than zero. This unfortunately also applies to the fantasy genre. If I didn't have my pretend race announcing skills to fall back on, I would probably cry.

These are the things you can learn about yourself in the middle of the night."

Anyway, it reminded me that I used to have more humour in my life and that drew more people to me. It's probably not the world that has changed, but rather it's me that's changed and I just never really noticed it happening.

Found an excellent little story by Alan Coren where Pooh Bear gets a Hemingway makeover. It's a quick and fun little read indeed.

McMeltdown

2008-10-25T23:32:00.003-05:00

Wow...the stuff you miss when you don't frequent the internets! The drama and excitement that is this year's presidential campaign just doesn't seem to want to end.

The new buzz in the blogworld is a story by Ben Smith about the growing rift between Palin and her McCain handlers. It seems Caribou Barbie is looking past 2008 and aiming for the reins to possibly guide the heart and soul of the Republican party after the election. The guestion that appears to be arising is just who is going to be thrown under the bus as the McCain campaign seemingly unravels.

And, if you're looking for some good clean campaign fun, I would suggest a feature story for GQ by Michael Hastings. It's a revealing glimpse at life on the campaign trail told from the viewpoint of a journalist.

Choo choo...or is that Les Choo Choo?

2008-10-23T17:17:00.003-05:00

Feeling sort of French today. Or, rather, I'm in the mood for some French pop. So, here I am watching some Francoise Hardy sipping on some oolong - Wuyi Oolong to be exact. Oolong and Francoise Hardy...that spells pensive. Or, as some of my friends would put it, a trip on the nostalgia train. Choo choo...

One of my absolute favorites...

Here it is in English...

I like it much better in French. It's just more heartstring tugging that way. And the odd thing is that you don't need to know much French to know exactly what she's singing about.

"Pense moi..." Who hasn't felt that at some time in their life?

Golden Tee is crack

2008-10-22T12:43:00.004-05:00

Glitches are handled...I love to hear that kind of thing. My buddy Gregg is now in China and started getting some of it down in blog form. He's a blog virgin no more.

And, while he's over there enjoying the sights, sounds and tastes of China, I'm here plugging away at the tea room. We've been pretty slow of late, so it's becoming a matter of deciding when to send people home and how much dusting to make the others do. Along those lines, my top secret message to Gregg is that yesterday was a bit over a 1 kind of day. Pitiful indeed, but today is looking better.

On a different note, I got a text message from the owner of my local pub yesterday saying that the new Golden Tee machines were in. Since I wasn't actually scheduled and it was super slow at work, I left a bit early and put in a couple of rounds.

It was glorious. I know, it's not often that a video game in a bar is declared glorious, but this one is.

Golden Tee is a golf game and it shares a lot of characteristics with...well, crack. Yeah, it's that addicting. Just when I thought I had my habit under control...the new version comes out. It appears to be even more addicting. This could be trouble. And, to make it worse, I'm in a league this winter. I could become a lost cause. Wish me luck on my battle.

Anyway, on my first round I bagged a lovely hole in one. And, to make it even better...the new machines let you send your great shots to YouTube. Mine is here

Hopefully, I can do that sort of thing in league.

Put the brakes on

2008-10-20T14:20:00.002-05:00

The drama of my day was dropping $500 on new brakes, rotors and such. That's what happens when you get new tires...they notice stuff like that and then you have to fix it. So, obviously, the key to happiness is to never get new tires.

On the work front, the bosses are away for two weeks. They're off to globetrot in China. Not a bad gig if you can get it. My buddy Gregg is going to blog about it at ChefGregg. I expect to see a lot of photos and a bit of writing. He's more of a doer than teller...so the writing will probably be pretty brief, but interesting. I expect to learn how to order all sorts of alcohol in Chinese.

And, since Gregg will be checking this...my top secret message to him is that Sunday went fine, but it was pretty slow. If Saturday was a bit more than an 8 day, then Sunday was about a 5 day.

It's a bit cold and dreary today. I don't much like the dreary part and really don't like the kind of cold part. Well, at least it's not snowing...

100 songs from high school...

2008-10-15T22:24:00.006-05:00

I'm stealing this from TSHSMOM...

The rules:

A) Go to Music Outfitters.

B) In the search function, enter the year you graduated from high school. Get the list of the 100 most popular songs of that year.

C) Bold the songs you like, strike through the ones you hate, and underline or italicize your favorite. Do nothing to those you don’t remember or don’t care about. (I'm not too bright, so I made the ones I hated red. I also italicized more than one. That's not really because I loved them all so much, but I just sort of decided to choose ones that I remember liking more back then.)

1. Every Breath You Take, Police (This one could be like
or hate a lot...depends on the day.)
2. Billie Jean, Michael Jackson (Billie Jean is definitely not my
lover.)
3. Flashdance... What A Feelin, Irene Cara (Liked the movie though...what boy didn't love the ripped shirt look
after this movie?)
4. Down Under, Men At Work (I
still like the Men from down under.)
5. Beat It, Michael
Jackson (I really don't dig Michael...but this was a good song and a
good video. And it was all about the video in 1983. That and the hot V-jays like
Martha Quinn...okay, really only Martha Quinn.)
6. Total Eclipse Of
The Heart, Bonnie Tyler (I've been known to sing along...)
7. Maneater, Daryl Hall and John Oates (Ummm...yeah)
8.Baby Come To Me, Patti Austin and James Ingram
9. Maniac, Michael Sembello (Jennifer Beales...what else is there to say?)
10. Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This), Eurythmics (The Eurythmics were good
stuff.)
11. Do You Really Want To Hurt Me, Culture Club (Another love hate songs...some days I really did want to hurt him.)
12. You And I, Eddie Rabbitt and Crystal Gayle
13. Come On Eileen, Dexy's Midnight Runners
14. Shame On The Moon, Bob Seger and The Silver Bullet Band (Really Bob...really?)
15. She Works Hard For The Money, Donna Summer (Anthem...blah...blah...tough chick song...blah...blah...)
16. Never Gonna Let You Go, Sergio Mendes
17. Hungry Like The Wolf, Duran Duran
18. Let's Dance, David Bowie
19. Twilight Zone,
Golden Earring (C'mon...this was one cool video.)
20. I Know There's Something Going On, Frida
21. Jeopardy, Greg Kihn Band
22. Electric Avenue, Eddy Grant
23. She Blinded Me With Science, Thomas Dolby
24. Africa, Toto
25. Little Red Corvette, Prince (Shut up...this is a great song. Baby...you've got to slow down...)
26. Back On The Chain Gang, Pretenders
27. Up Where We Belong, Joe Cocker and Jennifer Warnes (I likes me some sap...and Joe Cocker is the most messed up
singer ever...which sort of makes him cool.)
28. Mr. Roboto, Styx (Kill me now...really...just shoot me.)
29. You Are, Lionel Richie
30. Der Kommissar, After The Fire
31. Puttin' On The Ritz, Taco
32. Sexual Healing, Marvin Gaye (Smooth...Marvin Gaye is smooth...)
33. (Keep Feeling) Fascination, Human League
34. Time (Clock Of The Heart), Culture Club
35. The Safety Dance, Men Without Hats (Loved these guys.)
36. Mickey, Toni Basil
37. You Can't Hurry Love, Phil Collins
38. Separate Ways, Journey
39. One On One, Daryl Hall and John Oates
40. We've Got Tonight, Kenny Rogers and Sheena Easton
41. 1999, Prince (Shut up again...really...Prince may be a freak...but he's got him some talent.)
42. Stray Cat Strut, Stray Cats
43. Allentown, Billy Joel
44. Stand Back, Stevie Nicks
45. Tell Her About It, Billy Joel
46. Always Somethmg There To Remind Me, Naked Eyes
47. Truly, Lionel Richie
48. Dirty Laundry, Don Henley
49. The Girl Is Mine, Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney (Maybe one of the gayest songs ever...besides YMCA or any Queen song...and, at least, Queen songs rock the snot out of you...)
50. Too Shy, Kajagoogoo (My girlfriend, Becky Barzler, had a poster of them
up on her wall...maybe that's why I'm single. Okay it probably doesn't have
anything to do with it at all, but I still don't like
Kajagoogoo.)
51. Goody Two Shoes, Adam Ant
52. Rock The Casbah, Clash (The Clash flat out
rocked...not my favorite song of their's, but I'm not going to diss them on
it.)
53. Our House, Madness
54. Overkill, Men At Work
55. Is There Something I Should Know, Duran Duran
56. Gloria, Laura Branigan
57. Affair Of The Heart, Rick Springfield
58. She's A Beauty, Tubes (Great concert)
59. Solitaire, Laura Branigan
60. Don't Let It End, Styx
61. How Am I Supposed To Live Without You, Laura Branigan
62. China Girl, David Bowie (Shut your mouse.)
63. Come Dancing, Kinks (A great little sappy bit.)
64. Promises, Promises, Naked Eyes
65. The Other Guy, Little River Band
66. Making Love Out Of Nothing At All, Air Supply (Pure sap...power sap...high test,
super sappiness...I still sing along though.)
67. Family Man, Daryl Hall and John Oates
68. Wanna Be Startin' Somethin', Michael Jackson
69. I Won't Hold You Back, Toto
70. All Right, Christopher Cross
71. Straight From The Heart, Bryan Adams
72. Heart To Heart, Kenny Loggins
73. My Love, Lionel Richie (Lionel Ritchie gets nods because he hooked me up with Erica Lindquist... Believe me, he could be singing Mr. Frickin' Roboto and I would say I loved him if it hooked me up with Erica Lindquist. Thanks Lionel...)
74. I'm Still Standing, Elton John
75. Hot Girls In Love, Loverboy (Does this dude remind anyone else of John MacEnroe?)
76. It's A Mistake, Men At Work
77. I'll Tumble 4 Ya, Culture Club
78. All This Love, Debarge
79. Your Love Is Driving Me Crazy, Sammy Hagar
80. Heartbreaker, Dionne Warwick
81. Faithfully, Journey
82. Steppin' Out, Joe Jackson (I always liked Joe Jackson...I always thought he was
under-rated.)
83. Take Me To Heart, Quarterflash (They were a local Portland band...and I went to High School with lead singer
Valerie Day's younger sister.)
84. (She's) Sexy + 17, Stray Cats (Stray Cats and INXS were my first real concert...so there's some
nostalgia working.)
85. Try Again, Champaign
86. Dead Giveaway, Shalamar
87. Lawyers In Love, Jackson Browne (If Mr. Roboto makes me beg you to shoot me, then Lawyers in Love makes me want to pry the gun from your hand to shoot Jackson Browne. I curse him for polluting the airwaves with this song.)
88. What About Me, Moving Pictures
89. Human Nature, Michael Jackson
90. Photograph, Def Leppard (This was rocking for the 80's. I still sort of like Def
Leppard a bit.)
91. Pass The Dutchie, Musical Youth (What the fuck is a Dutchie and why am I passing it on the left hand side?)
92. True, Spandau Ballet
93. Far From Over, Frank Stallone
94. I've Got A Rock 'N' Roll Heart, Eric Clapton
95. It Might Be You, Stephen Bishop
96. Tonight I Celebrate My Love, Peabo Bryson and Roberta Flack
97. You Got Lucky, Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers (Tom Petty is one of those artists that I never realized I liked so much until he came out with a greatest hits album and I liked everything on it.)
98. Don't Cry, Asia
99. Breaking Us In Two, Joe Jackson
100. Fall In Love With Me, Earth, Wind and Fire (My
friend Eric Ellis and I rode in a limo with some of the Earth, Wind and Fire
guys...they played us a tape of a new song they had coming out...I wonder if
this was it...weird.)

All this did for me was make me realize once and for all that I didn't really like very much of the pop of the '80s at all. There's really only a couple of songs that have held up and most of what I was listening to isn't in the Top 100. Now...if it was a list of punk like Black Flag, Fear, Gang of Four, Husker Du, or stuff like that...

Pinocchio Politics

2008-10-15T08:45:00.003-05:00

It sure would be something if there was a political campaign that didn't fall back on scare tactics, obfuscation, and flat out lying to try and succeed. Well, I suppose we get what we deserve when most of us don't bother to look any deeper than the 30-second ads we see on television.

The good news - for liberals anyway - is that McCain went to negative campaigning and it has backfired badly. Maybe people are really looking for a change from business as usual politics. Well, we'll see soon enough - less than three weeks until the election.

Just don't talk about moving

2008-10-08T19:55:00.004-05:00

Been moving...just across town, but moving nontheless. I can't imagine a larger hassle than this has been. Or, rather, still is. Grrrrrr...

But before I get too worked up about the new place not being ready, having to get a storage unit to shove everything into, maybe becoming a couch surfer, and having to work all through the ordeal, let me say it wasn't too bad of a summer out here in the heartland.

I grew a good garden this year. Did it all organic and it turned out just fine and dandy.

The tomato plants were my favorite things that worked out. I did five different heirlooms. Some were better than others, but I can tell you that the Better Boys and the Mr. Stripeys were the best of the lot.

Didn't get any beans though. The little bunnies at them..plants and all. We came to a truce after that. They just hung out in the garden and I didn't chase them around with a shovel. It seemed to work out fine for all concerned.

The jalapenos went crazy. I had a bountiful crop of them. One plant in particular was quite the pepper-growing machine. It was still looking to pop a few more out when I picked a bunch yesterday.

I also had a ton of sage and chives. I picked a bunch of each and brought it into work. Since work is a restaurant, it worked out well.

There were a lot of other goodies that I grew, but they all start running together.

Anyway, the garden was nice. It was great to grow something, pick it and then eat it. It was completely satisfying and relaxing. I may never make fun of gardeners again.

Hi... Still alive and stuff

2008-07-15T14:46:00.004-05:00

What to say? Well, it's been a while that's for sure. There have been many changes -some big, some small. Here's the Reader's Digest version:

New job. Started working at my friend Gregg's restaurant - Anaba Tea Room - in the fall. Came on as waitstaff and am currently running the front of the house. It's a tea room near Milwaukee with excellent food and tons o' teas. And, when I say, "tons o' teas", I really do mean that. We have about 80 teas on our menu - all loose leaf, all very good and some extremely good.

Getting in shape. I blame it on the tea. Now that I'm drinking a bunch of it, I'm not drinking much soda and have been eating a lot less. So, over the winter I lost almost four inches off the chubby ol' waist. And that's with no excercise or anything. I know...hard to believe, but true! Now, I just need to start getting the excercise thing going on again.

Weather. Our winter here blew. It sucked mightily. It was not fun. Tons o' snow and it stayed crappy for a long time. Then came spring and a bunch of rain and crappy weather. Then summer and it's still been pretty much crap. But it's coming around a bit and hasn't been too terrible of late...it's just that it's come late.

We didn't get swept away in the floods, but the restaurant did get flooded one weekend. Not so much fun that.

Garden. I'm all about my garden this year. I haven't had one in a long time and this year I got one in and growing. It's veggies, veggies and more veggies. I've got my fingers crossed that it will make it and bear goodies for me. I'm going all organic with it, so it might be a challenge. Bugs and rabbits are my new enemies.

Vacation. It really doesn't count as a vacation, but it came pretty close. Last weekend my friend Josh got all wedded and stuff. It was up north in Hayward, WI. Some of y'all remember Josh piping into blog talk here. Anyway, it was a great time. It was a lot of fun to head up north and hang out for a few days with a bunch of great people, some beautiful lakes and such, and far too much alcohol.

Living in the dark ages. I haven't been around because I don't have internet hooked up at my house. I had a crappy service, then I had to adjust to a new job, then I realized I still had no money and now it's just a habit...not having the internet that is. I'm not sure when I'll get around to hooking back up again. But I'm going to be doing a tea blog for work and will sort of slack a bit and check up with y'all while I'm doing that.

So, there you have it - my life in a nutshell.

Happy New Year!

2008-01-01T16:06:00.000-06:00

Just wanted to say Happy New Year to everyone. Hope it's a good one for everybody. See y'all soon!

Merry Christmas!

2007-12-25T15:19:00.000-06:00

Hope everyone has a great Christmas filled with joy and love!

Gone Fishing...

2007-11-27T15:02:00.000-06:00

Been gone for a bit and will probably be gone for another bit. Just started a new job and now I have to work like crazy to get up to speed and to catch up on all the bills that have piled up.

Hope to be back soon...in time for some holiday fun.

Till then, take care all!

Imprecise beings

2007-10-24T10:55:00.001-05:00

I wonder what thoughts would cross Flaubert's mind were he here today. Gustave Flaubert - the author of Madame Bovary and other novels - was a French writer who was apparently obsessed with finding the perfect words for expressing particular thoughts,situations or descriptions. I can relate on a small level. There are times when the perfect word is used in conversation or writing and I get a giddy burst of excitement. Fortunately, most of my good friends share this little love. It's not uncommon for one of us - in the middle of a conversation - to nod, grin, and say, "Nice...good choice."

Flaubert is a writer that other writers tend to admire. It seems that every great literary figure from his time until now has written about him or expressed their admiration of him.

A good portion of the admiration that he reaps is due to his devotion to the craft of writing. He wrote, and re-wrote, and tore out hair, and re-wrote until a phrase turned just so, or a description finally clicked into sharp focus. And maybe even more important than this dedication, is the fact that it wasn't something that was easy for Flaubert to do. He wasn't a writer who could toss off a handful of pages and head down to the pub for a quick one knowing that those pages were just what he wanted to say.

Flaubert was also - well - a bit of a conceited prig too. He was disgusted by the lack of intelligence, contempt for beauty, and baseness he saw when he looked at his fellow men. The bourgeois were particularly appalling to him. One quote seems to sum up his disdain:

"To be stupid, selfish, and have good health are three requirements for happiness, though if stupidity is lacking, all is lost."

But this cynicism didn't decrease his ability to clearly see the world around him - and to comment on it - and to see himself. Clues to that come out in quotes like this:

"That man has missed something who has never left a brothel at sunrise feeling like throwing himself into the river out of pure disgust."

Surely, no prude could say something like that. Obviously there was some brothel visiting in Flaubert's life.

Anyway, I was surfing about the internets and one tube led me to some Flaubert quotes. As I read some of them it made me wonder what Flaubert himself would have made of them. There were quite a few from a passage in Madame Bovary. They were all in English - so they were obviously translated from the original French. The irony of the words of a man obsessed with finding "le mot juste" ("the precise word") being translated in so many different ways struck me like a sharp clap on the shoulder. I don't think there's a clearer example of the imprecision of our communication to be found. Not even the the myriad translations of "the sacred, perfect words of God" in the many different publications of The Bible have struck me in the same way.

"...exaggerated turns of speech conceal mediocre affections: as if the fulness of the soul might not sometimes overflow in the emptiest of metaphors, since no one, ever, can give the exact measurements of his needs, nor of his conceptions, nor of his sufferings, and the human word is like a cracked cauldron upon which we beat out melodies fit for making bears dance when we are trying to move the stars to pity."

"Language is like a crack'd kettle on which we beat out tunes for bears to dance to, while all the time we long to move the stars to pity."

"The human language is like a cracked kettle on which we beat out a tune for a dancing bear, when we hope with our music to move the stars."

"Human speech is a cracked cauldron on which we knock out tunes for dancing bears, when we wish to conjure pity from the stars."

I think that those words simply brushed onto canvas would make for a great painting. The original French surrounded by the many ways of translating it - nothing fancy, just words - would perhaps be enough to convey the irony.

I love good bookstores

2007-10-16T13:35:00.000-05:00

So...instead of picking up the trade paperback of 'The Exterminators', I ended up with something completely different. This is the risk you run when you shop your local bookstore instead of the mega-box near the mall. Don't get me wrong - I'm not taking sides on this one at all. I love both kinds of book stores.

What is it that makes a book store awesome though? Is it a huge selection? A hyper-specialized selection? Great staff? Awesome prices?

I'm pretty much of the opinion that it's all the above. The more a store has all of those qualities, the more awesome it is. But can a store really have all of them?

Ummmm...yeah. And that store is Powell's Books in Portland, Oregon. If you're ever, ever, ever in the Portland area you must stop there. It is Mecca for book lovers. I would stack Powell's against any book store in the world and it would never let me down.

First off, the place is enormous. It's a city block large with multiple floors. They give you a color-coded map when you walk in and you'll need it. Big can be daunting, but in the case of Powell's it's more of a wondrous marvel. Everything is just where you would suspect it of being - which is a very nice surprise indeed.

All those books also means that you're very likely to find what you're looking for. Out of print? Probably not much of a problem - they'll likely have it stocked.

They have both new and used books too. And, unlike most places, they shelve them together. Looking for Tom Sawyer? You'll have your choice of buying a new copy or picking one of several used copies. You have no idea how cool that is until you're standing there picking books off the shelf - adjusting your running total in your head as you go. You can often double or triple the amount of books you walk out with just by buying used.

They're also the place to go if you need to find a book on - let's say - the structural engineering specifications for bridge building, or how to build your own sailboat, or the collected writings of some obscure romantic poet.

The staff is great too. They all know books and they know their store. I've never had rude treatment there in my many trips either. There are a lot of places that could take some lessons in customer care from Powell's.

They're online too and every bit as slick as Amazon, but I would rather give my money to Powell's. In my mind, Powell's is the original and everyone else is a pale imitation - including Amazon, I might add.

Anyway, this whole spiel came from nothing more than starting with the idea that I bought a book by Ethan Hawke - 'The Hottest State'. I'm not done with it yet, but I'll let you know. So far, it seems to be a nice little story about first love. It's got angst and all that good stuff, so we shall see. One of the links I found for it was Powell's site. So, there it is - a rather imperfect circle.

Markets, floods and comics

2007-10-13T13:48:00.001-05:00

Went down to the farmers market this morning. There was certainly a harvest time feel this week. We're well into the autumn bounty now - pumpkins and squash leading the produce parade.

Picked up a bag of veggies and wandered around.

I was particularly proud that I remembered to bring down my own bag this time. That made me feel just green enough. Add to that the fact that most everything I picked up - lettuce, striped red peppers, broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots - came from the organic stand, and I'm practically a hippie.

*****

Went disc golfing last weekend. I would say that I threw like a girl, but it was pointed out on the course that I was indeed throwing worse than a girl.

Most of the way through our second round, though, I switched to throwing sidearm. Turns out that's the way I should have been tossing all along. It was far more natural for me.

Now, I just need to get some more practice with it and perhaps find I don't suck completely.

*****

Had an ever so wonderful experience yesterday. About 20 minutes before I had to leave for work, I had a deluge in my bedroom.

The radiator heater in the place upstairs started a gushin' and I was the lucky one to receive its bounty. A torrent - and I'm not stretching things to call it a torrent - poured through my ceiling.

'You have got to be kidding me!' might have come from my mouth. There might have also been some other rather colorful words. I'll leave that to your imagination - think sailor or trucker and multiply by 100.

It's still wet in there and my clothes are in a heap on the far side of the room. The wet stuff is out on my porch. It looks hillbilly out there now, but I can't say I care much about that. The neighbors can complain as soon as they come over and help dry the carpet.

*****
Thinking about hopping in the car and driving to the book store. I want to pick up a graphic novel or two.

I really want to read a new book that collects the first issues of The Exterminators - a really cool sounding Vertigo book.

I downloaded issue one and it's as crazy as I imagined. The story is basically about a whacked out exterminator and his equally whacked crew. Toss in a bit of Scully and Mulder and you'll get the idea.

*****

Still waiting to hear about any jobs out there. Interviewed the other day for a job in town. It went well, but you never know with these things. Hopefully, I'll hear on Monday. I'm tired of waiting - and very impatient.

This and that...

2007-10-09T16:59:00.000-05:00

Went on a pub crawl on Saturday. I sometimes forget just how fun the big city can be.

Drove down to my friend Gregg's restaurant - the Anaba Tearoom - and had a tea up on the garden rooftop. It was a beautiful day for something like that. We decided it was too nice to pass up the chance to do some wandering about in Milwaukee. So we started a trek through the city - starting on the south end and working our way up north.

Found some great little spots early on. That was a lot of fun. There's a great joy to be found in discovering cool little spots you never knew about before. Had a margarita and some rice and beans at a dumpy little Mexican restaurant to start out and then had some outstanding wine at a tapas place.

Along the way, it became important for me to try Pimm's cups at as many places as possible - just to see how they stack up to my local bar. Just so you know...I didn't have a good one all night, but that wasn't the point anyway.

We stopped at the 'longest bar east of the Mississippi'. It's at Buck Bradley's and it is pretty damn long. On an interesting note, it's only about six or eight feet longer than the one at my pub here in town. So close...and yet so far away.

The Hofbrauhaus next door was a good stop too, but the bartender there didn't know anything about the Hofbrauhaus in Cincinnati and only a little bit about the original HB joint in Munich. That seemed like something he should have known - you know, part of the basic course.

There were a couple of other stops, but it got a bit hazy after the HBhaus and didn't clear up much until after the worst gyros I've ever eaten. I can say that a fun time was had though - although a question that sounded something like, 'what kind of retard leaves his wallet in a bar?' was asked. I'm going to point out at this point that I don't actually carry a wallet. You can do the math.

*****

Two Days in Paris was an okay movie. I was going to sort of review it, but now I realize it really doesn't need much of a review. It was a quirky little romantic comedy that was entertaining but never really went beyond that.

The best parts of it were Julie Delpy, her parents, and the fact that two old couples actually walked out of it. It was an early show, so I was the only one there under about 60.

Apparently, the sex talk was tad too raw for the oldsters in the theatre.

*****

I've been looking for a new job and have an interview tomorrow at the local newspaper. It's a sports job and sounds pretty positive. We shall see. It would be nice to feel both challenged and rewarded at my job - things that have been sorely lacking where I'm at.

I've got a couple of resumes out - including a couple of foreign ones - but I don't want to jinx them, so mums the word.

Big day?

2007-10-03T11:25:00.000-05:00

"The cock is crowing
The stream is flowing
The small birds twitter.
The lake doth glitter...
There's joy in the mountains;
There's life in the fountains;
Small clouds are sailing,
Blue sky prevailing."
- Wordsworth

It's a nice day out today. My bird is whistling the the theme from the Andy Griffith Show in the next room. My coffee tastes pretty good. The sky is looking clear and blue. I think I will hop in my car, make the trek into Milwaukee, grab a bite and maybe catch a movie.

I really want to see Two Days In Paris. It's only in limited release, so I have to go into Milwaukee to see it. But, since I'm a sucker for the chick flicks and I love Paris and Julie Delpy, I guess I can jump through a few hoops to see this one. It looks like it will be a lot like the Before Sunrise/Before Sunset movies that Richard Linklater did. Delpy co-starred in both of those. This is her directing debut and it looks like she shares some movie making sensibilities with Linklater. I was also kind of interested to find that her parents in the movie are really her parents. I'll let you know...

Now...if I can just get moving, maybe I can get this day going.

The opposite of hate is love, the opposite of war is peace

2007-10-02T15:57:00.000-05:00

"Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them humanity cannot survive."
- The Dalai Lama

"Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible."
- The Dalai Lama

"My message is the practice of compassion, love and kindness. Compassion can be put into practice if one recognizes the fact that every human being is a member of humanity and the human family regardless of differences in religion, culture, color and creed. Deep down there is no difference."
- The Dalai Lama

Some things are bigger than us

2007-09-30T22:41:00.000-05:00

Sometimes the world seems really big... Does realizing that it isn't very big at all just make us feel that much smaller? It sure makes it easier to understand that we're all just small pieces in a much larger puzzle. Is any piece of a puzzle ever more important than another? Maybe it's good to feel small sometimes.

Strummin' my six string...er...four string

2007-09-26T19:06:00.000-05:00

It's been years since I've played any music. Playing it on my iPod, Boris, doesn't count.

Back in the day - way, way, way, back in the day that is - I could sit down and bang some things out on a piano. I also used to play bass - the big ol' upright and electric. Didn't much like the electric bass, but that was more to do with not being able to find one that fit my hands than anything else.

So, I've been wanting to pick up an instrument for a while. I like the idea of sitting around with a couple friends and playing some music. Just the thought of strumming and picking with buddies sounds neat to me. The ability to do that - sadly - doesn't magically appear overnight. Apparently, there are some important steps like learning how to play an instrument and practicing and such. I really don't like complications like that, but some things can't be avoided.

For a long time, I've had my list narrowed down to either guitar or violin. I know, that's to ends of the spectrum, but that's just how I am sometimes. Guitar is the more versatile of the two - obviously. You're much more likely to know someone with a guitar laying about than a violin. And people are just more apt to let you play their guitar than to play their violin.

A few years ago, I added the mandolin to the list. I really like the way they sound. They're really cool looking too - perhaps one of the most beautiful looking instruments ever. They're not the simplest string instrument on the planet however and that prettiness is sort of a barrier to busting it out in a crowd of people - many of whom are likely to be drunk.

Not too long ago, the list was lengthened by the addition of the ukulele. What could be simpler to play and easier to carry around. It's only got four strings, so there's not too much to learn to work with. The ukulele also doesn't span a bunch of octaves, so things are further simplified.

They can create a neat sound and - let's face it - they're just a happy little instrument. Who doesn't smile when they hear a ukulele? The ukulele has got to be the nearly perfect summer instrument - the very embodiment of sunshine, sand and the ocean.

Today, I jumped in. I bought myself a cute little ukulele. It has no name yet, but that will surely come. It's a Lanakai LU-21C - classic length and sort of middle of the road, beginner quality. It looks just like the picture up top.

It's going to have to suffer through a lot of terrible sounding practice sessions, but I think it can handle it. I've learned a couple of nice, little chords already - C major and G7 major. Lo and behold, you can play 'Row, Row, Row Your Boat' with nothing more than the C major chord. So, I guess you could say that I've already learned a song. If you add the G7 in, you can play 'Skip To My Lou'. Who knew? I haven't mastered the sliding back and forth between the chords yet...but it's my first day.

Anyway, it would be nice to at least get a few chords down and learn some basic strummin' along technique. Then it's down to the Sugar Shack with a longboard strapped to the Woody and my ukulele sitting in the back seat. Strum that little baby around the bonfire and watch the Bettys flock around.

Till then...A hui hou! Don't be a Kolohe.

*****

Important update:

Thanks to SME for pointing me over to YouTube to check out some uke clips. I will never get that time back, but it was worth the expenditure. Just so you can get an idea of how I can't play - and may never be able to play - here's a nice little clip:

From the mouths of poets and drunks...

2007-09-25T05:42:00.000-05:00

Sometimes wisdom comes in small tidbits. Here's a little taste of the wisdom pie from the mind of novelist, poet and great American drunk, Charles Bukowski.

Known for his raw style and oftentimes profane behavior, Bukowski's words are fitting for the time we're living. Not one for bullshit, Bukowski had a way of boiling his words down to their simplest and most direct form. Brutal honestly in a bitter pill.

There are more than a few politicians, pundits and hacks that could use a few ample doses of raw Bukowski.

This one seems hopeful:

“If you're losing your soul and you know it, then you've still got a soul left to lose” - Charles Bukowski

Maybe we could all use a dose, or at least a reminder:

“You begin saving the world by saving one person at a time; all else is grandiose romanticism or politics.” - Charles Bukowski

Or, maybe we just need a little bit of bar wisdom:

“Sometimes you just have to pee in the sink.” - Charles Bukowski

Anyway, wisdom can come from anywhere, but it has to be found. If it's just handed to you, it's probably not wisdom at all - but something else entirely.

What do you say to the younger you?

2007-09-21T02:27:00.000-05:00

Ever stop to wonder what you would say to the younger you if you could go back in time? I know I have. Pretty much every time I've wondered about it, I've thought in terms of the me now teaching the me then a few things - you know, sharing my wisdom with the younger me.

A couple days ago, I had reason to wonder it all again. I got in touch with an old friend - Heather - that I haven't really talked to or heard from in years. Don't know why I got hold of her now, but I did. She's running a maternity shop in Alice Springs in Australia. That just seems perfect for her - it's not the least surprising that this would be what she's been doing.

Over a decade ago - god, has it really been that long - Heather got hired on at the frame shop I worked at. She was a welcome addition - especially as the girl she replaced was beyond terrible at the job and only lasted about a week or so. But I digress.

Heather was engaged to Nick. He was the mysterious Aussie she always talked about. And I truly do mean always. The weeks went by and finally the wedding was around the corner. The man of her dreams was coming over to the states and they were getting married. Of course, that's never been a thing that has ever curtailed my flirting nature and I have to admit that I did do more than a little of that back in those days.

Maybe it was her nerves that made her do it - or maybe it was my strange, animal charm - but she couldn't stop herself. She cornered me at the store one day.

"You know Nick will be here in a couple of days..." she said.

"Yeah," I replied, a little unsure where this was going.

"Well, can I ask you a really big favor?"

"Sure."

She paused, obviously nervous, her youth leaving her unprepared to deal with this kind of moment.

"Ummm. It's a huge favor..." she said. "You can say 'no' if you want. I would understand, but it would mean a lot to me."

"I'll do whatever you want Heather," I said. "You know how I feel about you."

She paused again - longer this time - and looked at me as if gauging my sincerity. She always had trouble believing that my sincere moments were real. It was obviously hard for her to ask what she wanted so badly to ask. I tried to smile.

"Ummm... Nick doesn't really have anybody here that he knows very well," she said quickly. "Do you think you could be his best man?"

Of course, I said yes. It was a big honor that she thought enough of our friendship to ask - where did you think this was going? This is a nice story and here you are thinking terrible thoughts. Shame on you.

Anyway, got to drink with Nick before the wedding, so all was good. He was a really nice guy and I was happy for them. We all were - despite the months of hard times we had given Heather for her dreamy preoccupation with her wedding plans.

Then they went over to Australia. I heard from Heather a couple of times. It was nice to get the occasional postcard from the bottom of the world. Her mother and sister stopped in from time to time and kept us up to date too.

The years take their toll though. And eventually we lost touch. Every so often, a moment would make me think of Heather and wonder how she was - but, I'm a pretty lazy person and I seldom got past Googling and letting it drop.

After all this time, would she even want to hear from me? Would she think it weird that I looked her up? I decided to just do it and left a message on the store's guestbook. I was happy - totally silly happy - to get an excited email the next day.

Her story has gone a different way than I imagined it had - who's hasn't come to think of it. A life lived is nothing if not unpredictable. But it sounds like she's figuring out her path. That's not for me to say, or judge, or anything like that, but I can still be interested and even a bit proud.

Anyway, to be honest, this whole thing sort of tilted my world a bit for a few days. I guess memories will do that. It was strange to find myself travelling back so many years ago, looking at myself, and her, the people that came and went in the frame shop, and that whole world with much older eyes.

I always thought that if I could go back and meet the younger me that I would give him plenty of great advice. As it turns out, that me was the one who imparted some wisdom. There are so many things that are easy to lose - dreams, friendships, our direction - and they are all worth holding on to.

That younger me reminded me of some of those things and I feel like I let him down along the road. But the good news is...it's still not to late to recapture some of those dreams and to track down old friends and reconnect. Life doesn't have to be a fairy tale, but you don't have to give up hoping for one.

Check it out...

2007-09-20T11:40:00.000-05:00

Phoenix has a great Youtube find up on his blog. U2's Sunday Bloody Sunday done with George W. clips. It's brilliant.

An open note to terrorists and other not nice people

2007-09-18T10:45:00.000-05:00

Dear Terrorist and Other Not Nice People Guys -

I'm sorry if you're pissed off about stuff or you just want to hurry things along and get to those virgins waiting in the sweet-ass garden for you, but some of us are kind of into hanging around on this world. So, could you kindly not blow stuff up anymore? Frankly, it's not very cool and it really cuts into the Britney/Kevin, Brad/Angelina, Tom/Katie news coverage.

I would also sort of like it if you could maybe refrain from using any nuclear or radioactive stuff. You see, I just got an amendment to my insurance that says:

'There is no coverage for loss to any vehicle that results from:
a) nuclear reaction
b) radiation or radioactive contamination from any source
c) the accidental or intentional detonation of, or release of radiation from, any nuclear or radioactive device.*

I'm also apparently not covered for mold or mildew injuries either. And - if that's the case - I suppose nuclear mold or mildew would be doubly out of the question.

As you can see, I'm a bit concerned about the new car. I don't mean to be a dick, but I worked hard for the money to buy it. Also, I think if you look closely, there might be something in the Koran about not being total asswipes and blowing shit up - especially not with nuclear mold.

Anyway, thanks and have a great day.

Sincerely,

Some Random American Dude Guy

*There's no mention of 'nucular' stuff though...so, I might still be covered for that. I sure hope I am.

Some of the things I did on my summer vacation...

2007-09-15T19:59:00.000-05:00

It was a good summer, cut short by the week of deluge and crap weather...but good nonetheless. For the first time in several years I actually got out and enjoyed a summer before it was over. Yeah me!

Moved in June. It was just across town, but a hassle anyway. Not that it didn't go smoothly - it did - but any move is a drag and this one was certainly that. The best part of it was getting a dish hooked up. I like it so much better than cable - better channels, cheaper and great service. I have to admit that I spent a lot of time just going through all the cool channels and getting caught up on shows that I couldn't

The new place is a couple of blocks from a big park. Not the best park ever, but the river runs through it and it's where they do the Fourth of July fireworks. So the fireworks were going off a couple blocks away. It was pretty cool. I love the boom of fireworks show.

Done a bit of disc golfing this year. It's a good time, but I well and truly suck at it. My friends don't seem to mind too much and they put up with me doubling up their scores. No pictures of any outings - I'm not sure why, but carrying camera around a course is a hassle and that might have something to do with it.

Watched Live Earth this summer. Is it just me, or was that the biggest event that should have made an impact, but didn't really seem to? Huge event. Huge issue. But barely made a dent in anyone's conscious. How much better would the world have been if Al Gore had become president instead of George W? Well, I'm guessing we wouldn't have had 150,000 troops mired down in Iraq and the trillion dollars spent so far on the 'war' wouldn't have been tossed out the window, the response to Katrina wouldn't have taken nearly a week, and the rest of the world wouldn't be wondering what kind of douche bags would elect someone like George W. Bush - twice. Just a thought or two...

Germanfest was another summer winner. Okay, more of a fun diversion than anything else. My favorite gyro cart was there again so I got to feast on them. How they always manage to have cute foreign girls working there every year is one of life's mysteries, but I'll never complain.

There was a rainy day, but it didn't dampen the party mood amongst the oldsters this thing draws out every year. They just polkaed with umbrellas.

I've been down to the farmers market almost every Saturday this summer too. It's only a few blocks away and is a great reason to get up on Saturday morning. I go down, grab a coffee and buy some local produce. It's nice - a bit of European flair for my terribly American life.

Went to a Packers preseason game a little while back. That was - of course - a good time. There's not much that compares to a football game at Lambeau Field. It's just a great vibe. Saw my old neighbors out front. Odd? Why yes it was. But this is Wisconsin and it's almost commonplace to run into people halfway across the state. What can I say? It really is a Wisconsin thing.

Bought a new mountain bike shortly after the move and I love it. It's a Trek and it is really a beautiful piece of rolling fun. Did a lot of riding around town this summer. It was nice to get some much needed exercise. It was especially nice to save a ton on gas too. There was also the added benefit of cutting down my personal contribution to the pollution level. I did indeed feel a bit smug riding my bike to the grocery store and to work.

But, the weather is turning. And with it, I had to buy a new car. Well...new to me.

Got a terribly practical used Pontiac GrandAm in a sober shade of metallic tan. I know - crazy. That's just how I roll. At least that's how I'm rolling now. It's a nice car with low miles and is in great shape, so I can't complain. I'll love it more when I walk out to it in the dead of winter with snow all around, turn the key and hear it start. My love will know no bounds then.

So, there it is. The Reader's Digest version of my summer. Feel free to flesh it out with some nights at the pub, some days laying out in the sun, and with a visit from my friend Eileen. Toss in some bold experiments with cooking and the discovery of two new favorite drinks too.

Till later...tchuss!

Just blowing the dust...

2007-09-14T21:23:00.000-05:00

off my computer and testing out the new internet connection. Wow...did I miss having the tubes hooked up. Lived through it though...so I suppose there's hope for net addicts after all.

More later...cheers.

Going back under...

2007-08-02T11:21:00.000-05:00

It was fun while it lasted. I was housesitting my Mom's place while she went on vacay, so I had the internets tubes to play with. But, now that's coming to an end. Back to my tubes-free existence.

It was nice to see you all and catch up on your lives a bit. Hope you all keep on plugging away and fighting the good fight.

Also, I got to sponsor three little loans - one for a weaver in Paraguay, one for a woman who collects recycleables in a small cart, and one for a guy with a small glass shop in Azerbijan. Hope they all make a step up the ladder and that my little bit in some way helps.

Oh...and I won an eBay auction too - it's not all noble causes and selflessness here. Better get that paid before I'm off the tubes.

Cheers till next time...

Kiva is cool

2007-07-26T11:59:00.000-05:00

Looking for a good way to help people trying to work to better their lives? Check out kiva.org. It's a website that allows you to make small micro-investments in loans to individuals for their small businesses around the world.

Micro-investing is a quickly growing service that reaches people who have no access to large banks. They are typically men or women in developing areas that are running small businesses like selling or making clothing, selling groceries or other similar endeavors. The loans are usually around, or under, $1000 and are made to meet modest needs.

Anyway...kiva.org lets you be part of these loans. You can click through the people asking for loans and select one of them to be part of their loan. A bunch of people donate a small amount to a loan and then when it's filled it is granted. All the loans are handled through reputable groups that deal in micro-banking. Your loan donation is handled through PayPal. When it's paid off, your portion of the loan is credited to your account and you can cash it out or reinvest it.

Cool deal. Check it out for yourself and take part if you want. You might find it satisfying.

Now...I'm going back there to pick someone to loan to.

Radio Silence...

2007-06-10T20:05:00.000-05:00

The move is mostly done. Phewww. I hate doing the moving thing. Frankly, it sucks. That is - however - how it goes. Moving is one of life's little adventures. It was only across town though - so that's not too hard to live with.

That means I'm not going to have any internet for a while. I was on a cable hookup, which was nice. But, with the move, I'm switching to the dish for my television needs. That leaves me searching for a different internet connection. It's too expensive to do it through the satellite and I'm not putting in a land telephone line.

There's a new company that's hooking up wireless connections in town and that's probably the way I'll be going. It's actually faster or about the same as my cable now, but they don't throttle down on you when you download. We'll see if that will do the trick. But, it will be a while. So, see you all when I become plugged in with some tech.

Cheers.

This car isn't safe

2007-06-06T11:45:00.000-05:00

“You can always count on Americans to do the right thing - after they've tried everything else.” - Winston Churchill

“Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen.” - Winston Churchill

What the hell is wrong with this country when we continue to allow the squandering of goodwill in the world? When we allow an arrogant administration and the party that backs it, walking in lock step with it, to weaken our position as leading example for the world?

And why, why, why, is a former leader of the former Soviet Union a far better spokesman for reason, democracy and freedom than the current president of the United States?

Today there was a very good interview with Mikhail Gorbachev on CNN International. It was interesting to hear a reasoned international figure talking about the arrogance of the United States right now. It was clear that he wasn't talking about the country as a whole, but the Bush administration. Despite that, it was also clear that much of the world is beginning to tire of trying to discern the difference.

Bush has cost us a lot already. His administration is a series of failures with no real successes to show for all the bluster and bullying. I asked a conservative friend the other day to name one member of the Bush administration that was competent, much less good, at their job. He had no answer. There's a reason for that. The reason is that this president has chosen cronyism over competence.

And here we are, more than half a year after a resounding rejection of his policies across the board. Has this administration listened to the will of the people? Hell no. The only people this administration cares about are those that are closely allied with it. Those people are the same ones raking in record oil profits, pocketing billions that are supposed to be rebuilding the infrastructure of war-torn Iraq, or socking away much of the money that should be rebuilding our own city of New Orleans and helping those who lost everything in hurricane Katrina. This is an administration with policies built on deception, an administration led by incompetents at best and criminals at worst, and an administration that is making our country less and less safe.

Meanwhile, there are still many in the President's party who refuse to stand up for America and Americans. It's more important to them to help shove the broken ideas of the Bush administration forward despite the obvious lack of wheels, engine, or steering wheel.

This is the wreck of a vehicle that the Republican party wants to tie us to. Screw that. It's time for a new car. And screw the shysters that keep trying to sell us this lemon. Shame on them. Shame on the Republican leadership.

Anyway, back to Gorbachev's interview.

Maybe the most important thing he said was when he was talking about the surplus of goodwill that the United States built up with the then Soviet Union in the 1980s. It was the spirit of partnership that was offered that allowed the Soviet Union to make moves toward democracy, not blustering threats. Keeping that in mind, ask yourself what it means when one of the two men most responsible for ending the Cold War says that the United States has squandered away much of the goodwill it had built up in past decades. He also mentioned one of the above quotes by Winston Churchill - the one about counting on Americans to do the right thing, after they've tried everything else.

Maybe it means nothing. Maybe it's very telling.

Either way, the arrogance and carelessness of the Bush administration and his staunch Republican supporters - several of whom can be found in the Republican primary race - is hurting this country's prestige abroad. It's eroding the moral authority we once had. And it's making the world less safe. Is this a path we should continue down? Should this unsafe vehicle be allowed to stay on the road?

You don't have to say the N-word to be a cracker

2007-06-05T16:44:00.000-05:00

To set the stage, Charlie Sykes is conservative radio host here in Milwaukee. He has an ongoing feud with several black politicians in the city, particularly a specific member of local government who actually deserves to be feuded with. In addition, he likes to bash the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinal, the local metro paper - this isn't such a bad thing as the J-S sort of deserves to be bashed for bad coverage. He's also been successfully sued for libel.

And, while he seems to enjoy playing moral arbiter for the greater metro area, he's an adulterer who left his wife and children for another woman. You can bet that didn't slow him down when Bill Clinton was being bashed for getting a blow job though.

Anyway, the other day the J-S ran an editorial saying that felons should be allowed to vote. They even went so far as to say that people released from prison on probation should also be allowed to vote.

I happen to believe that once a person's time has been served, they should be allowed to integrate back into society - and that means being allowed to vote or not vote if they choose. By no means do I believe that those serving time should be allowed the privilege of voting while serving their punishment. That - to me - seems reasonable, but I'm perfectly willing to listen to other viewpoints because there are many sides to an issue like this.

Here's where Charlie boy and I diverged. He was clearly intent on eliminating any real conversation on the subject - most subjects actually - and felt it important to toss out handfuls of bilious statements.

Going from a relatively reasonable point of believing it's not right to allow felons to vote and certainly not those still on probation, Charlie Sykes asked repeatedly who do the listeners think is behind this massive push to enroll felons as voters? Never mind that there hasn't been any push of the kind and the editorial was the lone voice on the subject.

I'll save you the suspense, of course it's the liberals.

So, after several minutes of Charlie Sykes and some callers talking about how 'those people' would all vote Democratic and it's all a jaded move by liberals to topple the righteous regime of conservatism, I had to call in.

Of course, I never get past the screener.

"What do you want to say?"

"I want to say it's a bit disingenuous to not express what Charlie is really trying to say."

"What do you mean sir?"

"I mean, when we're saying that felons will most likely vote Democratic, we're really saying black people."

The screener boy responded with a not-to-surprising 'define sexual relations' statement that Charlie never said black people. He was right of course. Charlie never did say that black people released from prison shouldn't be allowed to vote because they would vote liberal - but you don't have to say the 'N-word' to be a cracker.

Why is it so hard for people to logically defend their arguments?

The screener went of to say that there have been studies done by the Democrats that show that a majority of felons would likely vote Democrat if they had the chance and that's why the liberals want to sign them up.

Huh? What study was that Barney Fife?

Never mind the bullshit about all these major studies done by the Democrats, how about the common sense of the freakin' argument? If the majority of felons would vote liberal, and the majority of the felons in our system are black...does it not stand to reason that we're most likely referring to blacks.

Anyway, that's really all I have to say. I'm just so very tired of the hate-spewing right wing. But, I'm not surprised by the cowardice of Charlie Sykes and his screener boys.

This and that...all adding up to not much really

2007-06-03T12:33:00.000-05:00

Business abounds. Last week was downright brutal. Not an amazingly huge amount of hours, but the fact that it was all switching back and forth between nights and days. Grrrr.

Well, what are you going to do? I have a job and that puts me ahead of a lot of people.

Weather has been pretty nice...until this weekend, of course. I've had a couple of days off and it's been somewhat sunny for short bursts in between the torrential downpours that have been what passes for excitement around these parts.

The crap weather has not been too helpful for the local Seafood Festival. It doesn't break my heart though.

This is one of the ridiculous festivals that communities toss up every year. It has nothing to do with seafood - how could it in an area known for it's blue-collar manufacturing, not it's fishing. We're not part of the Lake Michigan fishing scene and the river that runs through town is only good fishing if you like three-headed carp.

In fact, the only fish you'll find on the menu is some fried, battered cod freshly pulled from the freezer. There's plenty of hot dogs though.

Oh yeah, we've got crafts too. If you need a lovely, homemade candle, let me show you to the stall with the sorry looking woman displaying her fine selection of 10 candles. Not your thing? Then maybe a dreamcatcher made with flourescent yarn? I swear to Great White Buffalo Calf Woman, you could raid the art room at my nephew's elementary school and present a better selection of wares.

Okay, I feel better now.

On another note, Gregg and I are writing a movie. It's a great concept and could really make a good film. More on that later, but for now it's under wraps. Both of us just want to end up with a finished screenplay and see what happens from there. We're both sort of slackers, so teaming up will keep us working a bit more than we would alone.

And, on an even different note, I'm going to be moving across town in the next couple of weeks, so I might be in an internet free zone for a while. Maybe I'll get everything hooked up quickly though. We shall see, we shall indeed see.

Take yer HT and shove it up yer ML...

2007-05-22T12:11:00.000-05:00

Only a computer dork would care...but I just realized that IE now properly recognizes and displays PNG images. That means it can handle transparent images. Earth shattering news? Hardly. But it is somewhat nice to see that the major browsers are slowly getting closer to actually following the rules that allow websites to be read.

Telling the tale...part three

2007-05-21T22:35:00.000-05:00

Haven't been feeling much like tapping fingers on keyboard lately. But, in an effort to once again prove to myself that writer's block is nothing more than laziness, I'm going to wrap up my reader's digest version of my trip.

It wasn't all Danish countryside and bike rides to the shore. The main reason for my trip was to visit Steffi. We didn't have as much time as I would have liked, but we had fun anyway. It was nice to meet Rudiger and Steffi's little girl Lilly. We had a few walks and we all had some good times around the table with some nice food, wine and beer.

One of the best parts of the trip was having Lilly come in, jump on my bed and wake me up. She's a vivacious little girl and likes to play. We hit it off great and were instantly the bestest of pals. That picture of her up above is with her Mom...she's wearing a pair of my boxers that she dug out of my bag and decided would make an excellent dress. Who was I to argue?

At two and half, she speaks both German and English. It was adorable to hear her little, tiny voice pointing out flowers, birds and cows in both languages. It was a bit overwhelming to face that kind of energy when you're used to the quiet house of a single guy, but it was good to be taken out of my own selfish routines by the needed attentions of a little girl.

Oldenburg is a nice city. There's a cool old town area that's nice to walk around and where it's great to watch people. I spent a couple of hours in the city one evening when Steffi was teaching a Pilates class. I wandered, she taught, and later we met for a stroll to a cafe for a coffee.

I got to wander around again another night with Rudiger. We had a dinner in the cafe and a beer while we waited to meet Steffi. It was cool to get to talk to him a bit with no one else around. He's a really nice guy and it was nice to get to know him a bit. I really admire how Europeans seem to be able to shed the weird baggage that most Americans seem to carry around. I was friends with his wife - so, I was friends with him too. If there was any strangeness to it in Rudiger's mind, he never showed it. That's pretty rare.

One evening we all drove to a little beach area along a nearby river. It was a relaxing way to hang out. I was proud that I got one of the boat captains to give us a toot of his horn. There were several big boats heading up and down the river - to and from the harbor at the coast. Finally, after much effort, the last boat we saw as we were getting ready to go gave us a few blasts of his horn. The captain stepped out and gave us a wave and the crew joined in. Sometimes it takes a crazy American to get the Germans to step out of their routines - I think they secretly like us for it.

Also, got to spend a couple of nights in some big cities. Stayed overnight in Hamburg on the way back from Denmark. That was a night of debauchery - but, I'm single and have no one to explain myself to, I guess. Let's just say that a couple of gorgeous, young blondes may have ravaged me in a room above the Reeperbahn and the Prince cigarette afterward may have tasted outstanding in the tawdry glow of the neon lights streaming in the window. Or, maybe not...you decide.

Met a cool bartender in Hamburg. She was from Poland. Her boyfriend works on large ships as a welder, but times are tight for shipbuilders and he was out of work. Met a couple of cool guys at the same seedy little bar by the harbor. It was fun to talk politics and hear their veiwpoints.

Hamburg is a party town, filled with party people. It was fun...but a bit too much for me.

The next day, I saw a May Day parade starting and wandered down among the crowds of socialists, workers, and communists. There were quite a few people out - probably a few thousand. Signs, music, and slogans were all about.

It was a beautiful day, but I couldn't help but remember that it was traditionally the day that American specialists would gain the intelligence about the Soviet Union that we based much of our policy on - simply put, they would analyze photos of the May Day parade in Moscow and see who was sitting in the prime spots to see who was in and out of favor. Scarey to think that nuclear war literally hung in the balance.

Went to a good museum in Hamburg. Saw some great artwork. But sometimes museums just don't get me excited. This was one of those times.

On my way to Frankfurt to catch my plane home, I stopped in Koln for the night. Koln is a party town too...but in a classy way. It was beautiful and the people there were really nice. Met a couple of older guys who told me some good places to go that night and one gave me his email and said to email him next time I was coming to Koln and he would arrange some sightseeing and a bit of beer drinking with some friends. Another example of how open a lot of Europeans are.

Had one of the best pizzas ever in Koln, by the way. Who would have guessed? It was awesome and got me many offers of comradery as I carried it back through the streets to my hotel. It's easy to make friends in Koln...just go out drinking or carry a pizza through the streets - or both.

Got up and looked at the Dom the next day. It's the gorgeous cathedral in the middle of town. Had some breakfast, took a shower and walked around a bit before catching the ICE to Frankfurt and my plane home. The ICE is fast and smooth and terribly cool. There's nothing like sitting in a first-class car in the front of the train, sipping a coffee from a real china cup and watching the country roll by. I love the trains in Europe.

The flight home was long...long...long...and I had to take a bus from Chicago to Milwaukee to avoid staying overnight...but I still managed to stop at my local pub when I got back. I'm nothing if not a trooper.

Telling the tale...part two

2007-05-08T15:51:00.000-05:00

So, Wednesday found me in a new country and a whole new set of experiences to come. Per had met me at the station. As my journal tells me, it was something like this:

"Stepped from the train in Thisted and saw a concerned older man looking at the faces of people getting off at the station. I knew it was Per when I saw him look more closely at a man with facial hair. By then, I had walked around the bike racks with the ever present mob of bicycles and was able to call his name. A quick smile confirmed that it was indeed my host, Per."

We had the lovely dinner I mentioned last post and drove north to Bulbjerg. It's a hill on the coast that had a German bunker built on it during the war. The bunker is still there and it's a bit freaky to go inside it and feel the ghosts of the war there with you. There's only a long horizontal slit to look out of, but the view is pretty amazing.

Gulls of some North Atlantic variety nest on the cliffs below and we wandered down there to see them guarding their own little pieces of the white cliffs.

Then, we returned to Per's farmhouse. It's beautiful - low and white and sporting a thatched roof. It's very Scandinavian. He showed me my 'room,' which was really more an attached guest cottage than a room. It was originally a sheep barn, but now feels like a bed and breakfast.Very nice indeed.

We had some wine and conversation that night which was just the beginning of some interesting tales. Per is an interesting fellow who once did business across Europe, including the former East Germany. As a youngster, he met Karen Blixen who had a home nearby. He said he was always a little frightened of her because she always wore black and stayed mostly covered up. She was pale and sick at the time too - adding to her frightening look.

Thursday - "Today was a full day, but also not so full at all. It was simple and basic, but full of life."

Awoke at about 8 a.m. and fell back asleep until 9:30. Late for breakfast - the story of my life. Ate a nice European breakfast with bread, honey, jam, cheese, and coffee.

Rode the bike to Lild - the small fishing village by the water. Walked the rocky beach and found a piece of amber.

Came back and joined visiting family at lunch. They were all very nice and made me feel welcome.

Conversation, good food and some wine rounded out the day and I again went to bed content.

Friday - Did some sightseeing and then made our way down to Sonder Nissum - the small village where my Mother's brother is buried. He was shot down during the war. He was a pilot officer in the Royal Canadian Air Force and flew in a Lancaster bomber. He was only 21 when he died just months before the war ended in Europe.

Found the cemetery and the grave. There were several other Allied soldiers buried there as well - all next to each other in one part of the cemetery.

The Danish people do a beautiful job of maintaining and caring for their graves and they take great care of the soldiers' graves as well.

Came back by a different way and stopped at a shipwreck museum in Thorsminde - on the coast. Had another great meal at the restaurant there - St. George (it's named after a big British ship that wrecked there. Had a traditional Danish dinner of two pieces of fish - one boiled and one fried or baked and served on a piece of bread with a nice sauce and some asparagus hearts. Had some great Danish beer too. It was very good in the way only very fresh fish can taste.

Took the ferry on the way back. The air was brisk and the water was nice. The water here is still very cold - so the wind was chilly.

Went for a short bike ride when we returned - almost to the shore, but the ground was still too wet to make it all the way.

Came back and had dinner and then we all walked to see the sunset. Stood on a hill where you could just see the sea between the big dunes.

The day birds slowly went quiet as the sun sank into the water behind the hills, leaving the evening to the night creatures.

"There was mist rising from the small ponds and I learned there is a Danish expression for it that means 'the old woman is brewing beer.' It was a nice thought."

<more to come>

How to tell the tale?

2007-05-08T08:25:00.000-05:00

There are so many different experiences, thoughts, sights and sounds to describe that there's really no way to do it...but to do it. So, the Reader's Digest summary it shall be.

Friday - Saturday - Flew from Milwaukee to Chicago to Frankfurt. That's a lot of flying if you've got a back that hurts. It's even longer if you have no patience for sitting in a cramped seat next to a fellow traveller who absolutely refuses to surrender any of the common armrest between you. So, I fidgeted a lot and got up and down quite a bit too...it was semi-sweet revenge.

The airport in Frankfurt very nice. It's easy to find your way around, pretty clean and the people working there are very nice and helpful. Caught a train right there at the airport and continued the long trek to northern Germany.

The train, a high-speed ICE, took me through Hannover and Bremen and on to Oldenburg. The girls in the the Hannover Hauptbahnfhoff are very cute...or at least a lot of them are. Believe me - I checked. Called Steffi along the way and told her my estimated arrival time and agreed to call when I got to Oldenburg.

Steffi and Rudiger picked me up at the station and took me to their home. Steffi's Dad was also in town, so it was nice to see him again. And I finally got to meet Lilly. She wasted no time in climbing all over me. Nothing wakes you up from travel stupor like a vibrant two-year old climbing on you, wanting attention.

Went for a walk with Steffi in the countryside, stayed up for a bit, and finally crashed into the soft mattress for some sleep.

Sunday - We all went for a walk on the moors, outside of Oldenburg. Yes, they really were moors. There were still trenches in the landscape where they used to cut peet to burn and build with. It was a beautiful day and a nice walk.

The beautiful weather stayed around for the entire two weeks I was in Europe. They're in the grips of an unusually nice spring this year - which sounds great, but is terrible for the farmers.

After the moor walk, we drove to the coast and had cake and coffee at a place by the water. That was the home of the giant penis in the sand. What beach is complete without a giant penis protruding from the sand?

Came home, had dinner and watched a Sting DVD while drinking some excellent German beer.

Monday - The jet lag hit me on Monday and I slept in until 1 p.m. Everyone worried that I had died in my sleep, but an occasional snore proved that I was still alive.

Went swimming with Steffi and Lilly. I haven't gone swimming in a pool in a long time. It was nice and warm...and not too crowded. Did a few laps.

Wandered around Oldenburg while Steffi taught a Pilates class in the city that evening. It was nice to just wander a bit. Used some of my bad German to get a coffee and to find batteries and a new bathing suit.

We met up later and had another round of coffee and some desert at a restaurant by the old church in the center of the old town.

Tuesday - Lazy day. Got up and had a great German breakfast - some cheese, some bread, some spread, and a bit of meat. The girls went for a long walk, so I went for a short walk around the neighborhood.

Bernhard built a fire in the fireplace on the patio at night and we sat around it with some nice red wine. There's something primal about a fire and combined with the wine it helped the conversation flow.

Wednesday - Got up early and B. took me to the train station in Oldenburg. He walked me up to the platform and was - I think - a bit impressed that I could get a schedule with all the stops and changes printed up at the ticket office.

Went to Bremen, then Hamburg, then onto Denmark. Switched trains once in Denmark on my way to the end of the line in Thisted.

Per, a friend of Steffi's, met me there with his daughter Nina and his German Shepard Heidi. We had a nice meal at a restaurant by the water, dining and while watching the boats and a couple of frolicking girls.

<More to come>

Trail to the Sea

2007-05-07T08:59:00.000-05:00

This is the little double-track trail I took to the beach in Denmark. It went from Per's farmhouse to the little fishing village called Lild. It made for a nice bike ride through the forest and down to the sea.

Walking with dead Vikings

2007-05-03T04:18:00.000-05:00

I've done a lot of things in my life, but I have never hung out with dead Vikings before. I have now.

We stopped at an old Viking cemetary in Denmark by the fjord. I know...how cool is it that I was able to say fjord in such a casual way - as if I've been wandering around them for years? Pretty neat, huh?

Anyway, back to the Vikings. They were pretty rough and tumble back in the day, but they're much quieter now. Perhaps it has something to do with being dead, but I like to think they've just mellowed a bit.

I'm sure you're probably thinking that I'm making up the whole Viking thing.

Maybe you're thinking, "Hah, I've caught you in your web of lies now Shawn...I saw that movie with the Vikings and they get sent off in flaming ships, not buried!"

Well, I can assure you that many off them did indeed get buried. I've seen it with my own eyes. Plus, the signs told me so - or they would have if I read Danish, but it was pretty obvious that they would have told me that all the little piles around the field with big rocks on top were Viking graves. They would have also let me know that the rocks were arranged in such a way as to represent a ship - or at to appear to be a shiplike rock to the trained and perceptive Viking eye.

It was really a neat place and made you think about how little we've actually changed in the last thousand years.

The thing about dead Vikings though, is that they don't really talk much. So, our conversations were a bit doomed from the beginning. It might have been the language barrier, or maybe they had a hard night the night before, or maybe it was just that they were - well - dead.

Despite that, I would definitely recommend going to hang out with some dead Vikings if ever you're in Denmark.

I'm in Denmark now...

2007-04-28T02:57:00.000-05:00

Been in Denmark for a few days and it´s pretty amazing. Definitely should be on everyone's list of awesome places to visit. I'm staying on a farm right near the North Sea. The farm is home to Per, Nina, Heidi the German shepard, and a bunch of Icelandic horses.

I've been to the water and walked the rocky beach (most other beach areas are more sandy) near a small fishing village called Lild. Looked at the little boats pulled up on shore. There are still fishermen who go out from there and catch some fish. There used to be more, but - of course - the changing conditions of the ocean and the world have cut those numbers dramatically.

Met a nice lady who was searching for lucky stones. They are rocks that have a hole worn through the middle and look like little donuts. I was lucky and found a nice piece of amber. Per, my host here, told me there is a name for people who can find amber easily and perhaps I am one of those. That wouldn't surprise me since I do notice things and I have a bit of an affinity for the sea.

I've gone walking or bicycle riding during the day and we take an evening walk before sitting down with a glass or two of wine and some conversation. Per is full of amazing stories and be a great spokesman for the Danish tourist board, he loves it here so much.

Yesterday, we drove to find the grave of my Mother's brother. He was shot down in the late days of the war and washed ashore south of here. He was buried in Sønder Nissum, a small village south of the Nissum Fjord. We found the place and Per bought some flowers for me to plant. I took some photos for my Mom so she could see that it was well-tended spot. There were several soldiers buried there next to one another by the lovely old church.

It was quite emotional for me, even though I never knew my uncle. Maybe it was knowing how much it would mean for my Mother. Or maybe it was looking at his stone and realizing that he was so young - only 21 years old - and his life held such great promise.

Speaking of churches, the one in Per's village has ancient carved stones built into it. They are very old and one of them - the cock (a rooster, you dirty minds)- is on the 100 Kroner note.

Per pointed out - during our driving - some little burial hills from Viking times and earlier that held the remains of local chiefs. After he pointed them out, I started seeing them everywhere. It's really quite amazing how many there are around here. And although many have been lost, there are a lot still intact - intact and possibly untouched. The people with them on their land are now trying to preserve them for future generations. It's really a wonderful country like that - they are very conscious of their effects on the land and try hard to minimize those effects. We would all do well to follow the Danish example.

I don't know what my plans are for the next few days. I might head to Copehavn for a little look about, but I'm not sure. I'm supposed to be back in Oldenburg, Germany on Monday in time for the ballet that evening. The ballet - gasp - and I haven't a thing to wear!

you try typing on a German keyboard

2007-04-22T13:52:00.000-05:00

No...I'm actually really serious. It took me a good three minutes to figure out how to get the at sign to work. Throw in letters in the wrong spots and you have a disaster brewing.

After about 4000 hours on the plane and trains, it was nice to get here and relax. Went for a walk with my friend Steffi last night. We went out in the country a bit. She´s sort of a nature girl. It was a nice walk.

Went for a little walk today. There are a lot of moors around here. Very pretty. Then we went to the seaside and had cake and coffee. Of special interest there is the giant penis statue on the beach. Yes, you read that right...a giant penis. Hard as a rock too...literally and figuratively.

It´s been beautiful weather too. Nice spring weather over here.

Indian bling time

2007-04-19T21:29:00.000-05:00

It's probably best that I'll be on my way to Germany Friday. It will distract me from the bummer of yet another beautiful woman being scratched from the list. Not that I'm saying I was going to be going out with Aishwarya Rai anytime soon, but at least when she was single...

Anyway, India's Aishwarya is getting married Friday and it's going to be the big whizbang party of the decade over there. There's going to be some serious glitter, shine and flash going on - that's for sure. Rai is the top of the pile in Indian film, the closest thing to royalty left in the country once known for the lavishness of it's princes, princesses and other royals. I've been watching her in Bollywood films for years. My favorite was probably 'Devdas' - it's long, but worth the watch. I also liked her in 'Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam' - try saying that five times fast.

So, as I'm winging my way to Europe, yet another dream is disappearing - going the way of my Olympic medal aspirations - destined to never come true. The march of time goes on.

Come to think of it though...curling is an Olympic sport and Europe is filled with beautiful women. So all hope is not lost. Take that march of time.

Tee minus two days...

2007-04-18T19:17:00.000-05:00

In just over a day, I'll be winging my way to Europe for a couple of weeks. After sitting beyond the horizon for the last couple of months, the reality of taking off is suddenly breathing down my back. I guess that's not to untypical.

The long stretch of being away for two weeks seemed like so much time not too long ago. Now it seems like it won't be any time at all. That's probably a common feeling too. I'm only going to be in Germany and Denmark anyway, so I suppose two weeks is going to be long enough.

Spent part of today shopping for some things I needed - or wanted. Bought a charger for my iPod, Boris, and an adaptor for the European plugs I'll be running into. Also picked up some gifts for Steffi and the rest. Got my Eurail pass by FedEx yesterday. That was a load off.

Really, all I have to do is pack, stop for a few small things at the store and take my bird, Joey, to be boarded.

Violence

2007-04-16T15:31:00.000-05:00

Screams erupt as shards of hot metal rip into human flesh. Some die so quickly that a scream never leaves their mouths - the grim lethality of the uncaring tool of destruction striking so quickly that their brains never have the chance to tell their mouths to yell in pain and terror.

No, the screams come from those who are spared. Those who are spared from quick death by an accident of feet, inches, or millimeters. Those screaming are the ones who may just live. They will be carrying scars - inside and out - but they will be granted a few more days, or weeks, or years here. They will be able to call parents, brothers and sisters, and friends to say that they are okay. Well, maybe not okay. But they are alive.

The fear born on this one spot - a speck of a spot no different than many other spots - radiates out. Those nearby run for cover, seeking any safety they can find in a world suddenly unsafe.

The word travels farther afield. Something just happened. Something terrible, horrific, heinous. Death is lose and striking people down in less time than a blink.

Cel phones ring.

Those dialing them are calling out for aid. Something terrible has just happened and someone needs to come right away. Right away. Please come fast.

Everything is confusion. Chaos is all around. The order of life has been violently shattered. There is never anything normal about violent death. Or maybe there is and that is what is so frightening. When the thin veneer of control and culture is stripped away so forcefully, can it ever be repaired? The answer is, of course, no. Nothing is ever the same after such a terrible thing.

Farther away, the event is picked up by news outlets. Reports are confused. One person has been killed. No it's 15, 20, 30 dead. People turn from what they've been doing. Where was that? What happened? Why doesn't anyone know anything?

For many, it's just a horrible act. It's terrible and awful, but it's not hitting their lives. But for others, one second has changed everything. The girl with the impertinant smile and quick wit is lying in a pool of blood, her dark hair matted in a congealed puddle of red. The shy boy with the good grades and funny glasses will never worry again about his grades - there are no grades in death. The husband who was just going to work can't console his wife or explain what happened to his children - the life was blasted from him, maybe at the very second he took in a deep breath and marvelled at the wonder of life.

Do those who die so quickly care if the day was sunny or grey? Do they have enough time ask why this has happened to them? Or, is the only word that comes to mind - fuck!

On Saturday, a car bomb exploded in Karbela, Iraq. 50 people were killed. There was no warning, no reason beyond someone's dark and twisted need to destroy. Today, someone took the lives of at least 30 people in Virginia. There was no warning and no reason for this massacre either.

Stop for one minute and ask yourself if either is more horrific than the other. Stop and imagine the terrible way that lives have been shattered. Stop and ask yourself what if it was your family.

Think until the understanding dawns that suffering is the same in Iraq as it is in Virginia. The parents of young people killed in Virginia and the parents of young people in Iraq, or Africa, or anywhere violence strikes, all share the same tears. And then pause and say a prayer for those everywhere who are suffering right now. And say one for yourself too - that you will always remember to have compassion and to feel for everyone.

I've got yer easy pieces right here

2007-04-11T19:45:00.000-05:00

Sometimes the tubes of the internets are pretty awesome. Just when I was beginning to wonder what ever happened to well written pieces of journalism, I read this one. Someone read it and sent the link to someone who sent it to Ottmar Liebert and he posted the start of it on his blog with a link. It's really kind of interesting and - like I said before - well written. Bravo Washington Post Magazine for going with it amd thanks Gene Weingarten for writing it.

2007-04-09T13:28:00.000-05:00

"Before we beg, our begging bowl has to be emptied..."

-Chogyam Trungpa

The Big Orange Moon

2007-04-06T11:18:00.000-05:00

The moon - orange and large - danced at tree-top level as I drove out to do a job last night. Sometimes to the left of the asphalt path I was on and sometimes to the right - shifting with each curve in the road. A bit to the left, a bit to the right, but always there in front of me, bobbing like a boxer.

Thoughts crossed my conscious, coming in Chandleresque bursts like slugs from an automatic. That's just how I am. The latest reading seeps into my being and sweats it's way out of my pores.

Of course, it wasn't really reading at all that was clipping my inner dialogue shorter than a drill sergeant's cropped hair. It was 'The Adventures of Philip Marlowe' on my iPod that was doing that work. Episode after half-hour episode, LA's best-known private detective was seeping into my head.

"Damn you Marlowe! Let me go. Let me go I say...or else."

"Or else what? You've had me locked up in there for long enough. Now I'm long on time and short on answers, and you're going to change the answers part. And if you don't give me the answers, you're gonna at least do some listening. Brother, have I got a story to tell."

He had me. I bit like a hungry small-mouthed bass on a warm summer evening.

It wasn't till I sat through a marathon of his stories that I realized what a chump I was. Yeah, he played me like a patsy and I sat there and took it. Took it and kept coming back for more.

I couldn't get enough of his stories. The Orange Dog, The Panama Hat, Red Wind - his stories filled my night.

And when the I finally dragged myself home early this morning - just beating the sun and chirping birds, the bane of all drunks and night workers - the moon was still there. Higher in the sky and bright white instead of orange, but there.

Was it laughing at me? Maybe, but I was too tired to care and just smart enough to know I couldn't do anything about it.

This and that...and a couple other things too

2007-03-27T12:19:00.000-05:00

The light, citrus tones of my Kenya blend coffee aren't changing the fact that the sun has once again been hidden behind a blanket of grey. On the bright side though, it's still pretty warm and nice out and the coffee tastes pretty good.

It's my day off and I want to get moving but my paycheck is in hiding - perhaps it's in the back pocket of the missing sun. Anyway, it's got me tied up waiting since a lot of the errands I need to do are - well - tied to money.

Most important - after doing some laudry - is getting online and ordering a rail pass for my trip to Germany. I'm sort of wavering between a two-country pass and a three-country pass. Either would save me a ton o' money since a round-trip train ticket from Frankfurt (where I'm flying into) and the city up north where Steffi lives costs just about as much as a pass. It would make things easier too. Just ask Josh and Eileen how speedy quick I am when it comes to buying train tickets - they've both seen it live.

*****
I defy anyone to listen to Francoise Hardy's 'Message Personnel' and not be filled with the desire to bust open that dusty box of old letters on the shelf in the closet.

It's got me wanting to. But - in a weird 'this goes against the natural order' kind of way - I'm just don't feel like tripping down memory lane. That's right, the nostalgia train is leaving the station and I'm not on it.

Toot! Toot!

*****
Okay, any of you who know me too well can just skip this part. I folded. How could I not? A box full of dreams, wishes, what ifs, and what weres...you had to know I would dive in.

It was interesting to remember that in 1987, my friend Nancy was in deep in her third year at Princeton and I was - well - not at Princeton. My friend Eric's girlfriend was writing to me - it still weirds me out that she was hitting on me by mail. And I was still talking to Jennifer - my childhood crush - pretty regularly.

I really only teared up a bit thinking about Nancy. She was so very much a girl I would have married. I still wonder what might have been if my family hadn't moved my senior year.

Oh well, I wouldn't have met any of the other people that have touched my life since then. And her life went a way that has made her happy too - so, I wouldn't want to change that. Some things are left in the past I guess.

*****
Still waiting on my money. Grrrrr. This is more annoying than when I used to do freelance writing and waited around for checks to show up in the mail. Come to think of it, I sort of miss those days too. I don't miss the feeling of rushing to the mailbox only to find that an expected check hadn't arrived though.

*****
Anybody have any memorable firsts? I just remembered my first published photo. It was in an equestrian magazine called 'Horseplay'. I was so excited. Not only was my photo in a national magazine, but I was also getting paid for it.

They sent me a couple copies of the magazine and a check for $25.

I tore into the magazines like a four-year old on Christmas morning. And there it was in all it's glory. About two thirds of the way into the magazine, slightly larger than a quarter, was my picture of a broken English saddle. It's likely that a new father would be more proud, but I wouldn't have believed it at the time.

Just another day

2007-03-26T10:16:00.000-05:00

Woke up today before noon with more than eight hours of sleep to see another nice day. Blue sky, warm air. What the hell? Warm days strung together in a series...I vaguely remember the last time that happened.

So, now I'm drinking African coffee, listening to bad French music, thinking about sailing around the world and watching squirrel bounce by - all the while trying to ignore the fact that Joey, my bird, joining in the singing doesn't improve bad French music in any way.

Talked to Steffi yesterday. It brought my upcoming trip to Germany that much closer. It's going to be nice to see her again. It's been more than several years now.

So much has changed and so much is - ultimately - the same. In anyone else's life, taking a trip to see a German girl met at a yoga ashram in California who still holds a piece of their heart despite being married and having a delightful child and cool-sounding dog might be considered odd. Just another unexplained phenomenon in my life and not at all out of place.

Maybe it's a flaw - living life a bit out of synch and in slightly dreamy way. I don't really know any other way. Yeah, I fall in love 50 times a day, let my mind go off on vividly imagined tangents, and lack the practicality that drives the majority around me to buy new cars, live in a houses they can't afford and give up on actually enjoying life - but I think that might just be okay.

Also got a call from Jimmy yesterday. Went over to his new place - which is actually Barb's old place - and hung out with a bunch o' people. It was so warm that we just had fun hanging out of the front porch with plenty of beer and cigarettes.

Later on, we all went over to hang out on Phil's roof. He's got an apartment in an old building on the main drag in West Bend - and access to the enormous roof. It was a great night.

Now...off to work. Eeeeegads! Man, I don't want to go do this.

SXSW delivers some good tunes

2007-03-21T12:56:00.000-05:00

People around here like to brag about Summerfest and tell you it's the biggest music festival around. They're right about it being nifty and there are lot of good bands that come to Milwaukee during the week and a half run of the 'fest. But, I would much rather go to SXSW in Austin.

SXSW is a big ol' bunch of shows spread around the clubs and venues of the city. There are a ton - no really, a ton - of bands and musicians that make appearances. And, while there are plenty of well known names, it's mostly about up and coming or indie talent. This is out of the mainstream stuff - but the music is far from radical, it's just pretty darn good.

SXSW also features movies and interactive stuff too. I reckon you really just need to be there to enjoy those gems though. It looked like there might have been some interesting movies showing too. There's a bit of an interesting movie-making scene in Austin, so i'm guessing they draw a lot of talent.

Anyway, at the SXSW site, there's a listing of all the bands that were playing. Many of the bands have a free track up that can be downloaded. I went through and downloaded a bunchity bunch of them, stuck them in a folder and made a playlist. I can already tell that this is going to get some heavy listening - it's just that good.

My current faves from this batch:

Melissa McClelland
The Hudsons
Jo Mango
Joshua James
Helene
The Comas

Go take a listen if you like and you might find that you do indeed like.

Sunday hoops fun...

2007-03-19T15:54:00.000-05:00

Decided to go to Chicago on Sunday for Round Two of the NCAA tournament. My brother really wanted to go, so we went. It was even more fun than the first day. Not so great for Wisconsin fans, but fun nontheless.

The Badgers played a pretty sucky game again and it cost them a trip to the Sweet 16. They did mount a run in the second half and held the lead for a while, but ultimately they were outplayed by UNLV.

That's the common analysis anyway. I know it all came down to cheerleaders. UNLV simply had cuter cheerleaders. Oh sure, Wisconsin had some cute cheerleaders and they were a lot more athletic than UNLV's, but it clearly wasn't enough.

We could have tipped the scales back with our fans, but there simply weren't enough cute Wisconsin butts to turn the tide.

Some might scoff at such analysis, but they should maybe check out the results of the other game on Sunday before they start making their loud scoffage. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. I'm an expert on cute girls and I used to be a sports editor.

The Kansas - Kentucky game was much more exciting. Kansas ran away with it, but it was exciting.

Met some cool people in the stands. They JayHawk fans were pretty nuts. There were a ton of them too. I would have hated being in Kansas this last weekend though. All the cute Kansas girls were in Chicago. It was almost enough to fool a guy into thinking that Kansas would be an awesome place to live. I - however - am not just any guy. I've been to Kansas before and I remember it all too well.

Michael Jordan was the game. He was in a booth a couple sections over and below us. That's kind of neat. No Ashley Judd though. That would have been even cooler. I would trade a Michael Jordan brush with greatness for an Ashley Judd brush with greatness any day.

Anyway, a fun time was had all around and it was a great little experience to put into the collection of stuff that I've done.

P.S. - Chicago traffic blows. It's bound to be bad news when you put that many crappy drivers on overly packed tollways. Sure enough, Illinois drivers didn't let us down and proudly maintain the world's worst drivers title.

It's madness I tell you

2007-03-17T12:42:00.000-05:00

As my friend Gregg put it...this is "the greatest weekend in sports." No arguments here. College basketball explodes like a Fourth of July fireworks display in a sleepy midwest town - bright lights, noise and excitement burst into the dark sky, blasting away boredom. It happens every March and madness does indeed ensue.

I got my first taste of it live Friday. Went to Chicago with my brother and saw a couple of games. Let me tell you - hardwood, pom-pons, and rabid fans are an intoxicating mix. And we're only talking about the first round.

Saw UNLV beat Georgia Tech in a close game to start. The Runnin' Rebels were fun to watch. I felt bad for the G Tech kids though. But that's what the tournament is all about. Winning and losing - and, ultimately, the way people deal with both.

After a short break, the Wisconsin Badgers took the court to play Texas A&M Corpus Christi. You'll be forgiven if you just found yourself saying' "Who?"

Well, the Islanders of Corpus Christi turned out to be a lot more memorable than I would have ever guessed. They were sort of the little team that could for a while and had a sort of infectious joie de vivre that they had half the place cheering them on in the first half. That's something in an arena only a couple of hours away for Wisconsin fans.

The first half of the first half was a stunner for Wisconsin fans. It was well and truly - um - abysmal. Wait, that's not right. It was monumentally abysmal.

For Islander fans that had made the trip north and all the new found Islander fans, it was the heady stuff of dreams.

Wisconsin somehow managed to score only 19 points in the entire first half. Yeah...it was that bad.

Second half was all about Wisconsin though. Well, Wisconsin and the ref who called at least 1,000 fouls in the game. My god, talk about slowing down the pace of a game.

No matter how you slice it, it was a ton of fun to finally make it to a couple of NCAA tournament games.

There's still plenty of television watching to do too. I'm doing that right now in fact - and holy crap is Xavier playing well! This could be the upset of all upsets - the grand daddy of all upsets if you will. It's hard to keep typing here with that going on.

And, tomorrow I might just head back down to Chicago to watch round two. Still sort of up in the air on that one. It is tempting - the tickets are in my pocket.

Yeah...the call of leather on hardwood is hard to ignore this time of year.

I'm about to get March Mad...

2007-03-16T00:55:00.000-05:00

I've got tickets to the first two rounds of the NCAA tournament in Chicago. Gonna see Wisconsin play.

Then, maybe just sit around and watch a buttload of basketball. That's all I've got to say...but it's enough, don't ya think.

And now I can scratch another thing off my life to do list.

Thought for the day...

2007-03-10T01:35:00.000-06:00

"We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men; and among those fibers, as sympathetic threads, our actions run as courses, and they come back to us as effects."

- Herman Melville

Who knew that the dude who wrote about catching a big ol' white whale was so smart?

A slice of the Apple

2007-03-08T16:53:00.000-06:00

Here's a short clip of Saturday morning in the apartment in NYC.

Josh is off screen working on the puzzle that lorded over the middle of the floor, Jonathon is strumming his guitar, Eileen is in the other room, Stephanie is getting ready to go out, and music is playing in three separate rooms.

Despite that, it was all very mellow. Go figure.

That there is life - is it not?

If the budget were cookies...someone would be getting fat

2007-03-06T10:49:00.000-06:00

I love it when complex issues can be boiled down to a very simple explanation. Often it can't be done, but sometimes it can. In the case of the out-of-control federal budgets of this Republican administration, this simple animation makes it very clear where their 'values' lie.*

Anyway, check out this animation featuring one of the Ben and Jerry's founders for a quick eye opener. Watch it and decide if your priorities are the same as the Bush administration and the Republicans. And, more importantly, do something about expressing what your priorities are.

*Editor's note...values and lie being uttered one after the other is completely intentional and appropriate.

Bottle of...oh hell, you know this part...(part the third)

2007-03-05T14:05:00.000-06:00

Sunday morning in New York. It just sounds good to say. The procession of roommates heading into the shower, emerging clean and ready to face the day counted down to me.

Jon and Stephanie were gearing up to do some Oscar party shopping. Well, Stephanie anyway - Jon was locked into being deviled-egg boy. Let that be a lesson to all of you. If once you make the deviled eggs, forever will you be branded deviled-egg boy.

The SF3 downed coffee, hit the showers, and crawled out to the bustle of Sunday in New York - a much tamer version of the bustle of anyotherday in New York.

We grabbed a slice of pizza on the run and hoofed it the rest of the way to the Natural History Museum. Yeah the one from the movie, 'Night in the Museum.' Kelly is a docent there and she got us all tickets. We saw the gold exhibit (very shiney), the space collisions exhibit (very far out), and the butterfly exhibit (very fluttery).

I think my favorite was the one I least wanted to see - the butterflies. Go figure. It was just really cool to see all those colorful fluttery things. It might have been the perfect winter remedy. Just a thought.

We were going to have oysters at Grand Central Station, but the restaurant was closed on Sundays. Ended up at the Chat and Chew for a glorified slice of Americana New York style.

Went out for drinks at . Good times were had and wallets busted all around. Thanks to Eileen and Josh for carrying me over the finish line - life wouldn't have been the same without that sixth round.

Home to semi-drunken slumber.

*****

Monday morning on the edge of Harlem. The park across the lot and the circle out back already has people walking the fringes. Traffic noise, the hum of life, the city rousing from its slumber.

A light blanket of snow is on the ground as I look out the kitchen window. Inside everyone is quiet in their own sleep - what worlds they're travelling in their dreams I don't know.

Morning rolls on. Josh heads to work. I shower, pack, and climb down the three flights to the street. Stop at Central Park and watch a film crew setting up. Then underground for the 2 downtown and back up into the air for an hour of wandering near Macy's and Penn Station.

One last look around, a sigh, and back under the earth to leave New York City. The train, Newark, two planes, and back to piles of snow and short buildings. The end of a vacation - even a short one - is just plain depressing. It was a good weekend though, so that's a small price to pay.

Thanks guys for the great trip.

Bottle of red, bottle of white (part the second)

2007-03-02T13:46:00.000-06:00

Saturday was a sleep-in sort of day. We didn't get up and moving until after noon. That's a lot easier to do when there are no clocks to be found other than the kitchen one that's stuck between 3:30 and 3:45.

The coffee caraffe was passed around like a pot pipe and all of us sucked down cups of the brown elixir like junkies.

Josh's roommates and friends John and Stephanie headed out first to take in a movie that neither of them really wanted to see, but what with the Oscars coming up, they felt like they should see it. It's hard to argue with logic like that, so we just wished them well and started plotting the day's assault on the city.

Food - once again - provided the catalyst needed to get us moving. We decided on Chinese and Eileen showed off some of her cruise-directing strengths by picking 69 as the restaurant of choice. It wasn't that impressive of a pick though because I would picked it out of a list too - but probably for the more obvious reason that it has an awesome name.

Harlem to Chinatown takes you underneath pretty much the whole stretch of Manhattan, but it's not a long ride. We climbed back into the light of day and wandered into the vibrancy of Chinese New Year celebrations. Dragons danced along the sidewalks - stopping at the doors of businesses to bring them good fortune. Bells and drums drove away not only evil spirits, but any sense of gloom that might be hiding in the nooks and crannies of the day ahead. From high above, streamers and colored confetti would occasionally shower down like rainbow rain.

The food was good. It's not stellar, but it was quick and tasty. The table one over was filled with brass from the nearby NYC police department building. You gotta figure that if it's good enough for New York's finest, it's gonna be fine for the San Francisco 3.

After eating, we took to the streets again and wandered about Chinatown. A helpful hint for tourists - the easiest way to tell you're in Chinatown is that most everyone is Asian and all the signs are in various forms of Chinese and other Asian languages. The dancing dragons were also an excellent giveaway, but you can't count on them year round.

I also discovered that you can indeed find batteries in Chinatown. In fact, it's sort of easy which is a bit disappointing in a weird way.

At some point, it became imperative that we find the Manhattan Portage store. Funny how nebulous sorts of ideas can crystalize into necessity in a short time when you've eaten some good Chinese food.

The Magnetic Field's song 'Luckiest Guy on the Lower East Side' kept running through my head even though we were blocks from the L.E.S. What can I say - I'm from Wisconsin, we don't get close to locations in song lyrics very often. Fortunately, Eileen and Josh were up ahead so they didn't hear my off-key humming - although it's possible that I could have passed it off as indigestion.

Our quest took us to an area just south of Houston St. - Soho to those in the know. I'm not sure if we wandered across part of Tribeca along the way, but since I never saw Robert DeNiro I'm going to guess we didn't.

With the crossing of Canal St., Chinatown gives way to Soho. It's just another of those New York wonders - kind of like crossing a Disney street and finding yourself suddenly in Tomorrowland instead of Storybookland.

Soho is the land of many galleries and has the highest concentration of people wearing black in the city where most people wear black. It's also a neat little area despite it's trendiness.

We found Manhattan Portage despite some sort of solar flares that adversely effected Josh's normally unerring sense of direction - something to do with reversing the polarity of the earth's magnetic field (not to be confused with the aforementioned group of with a similar name). Eileen bought a bag. I bought nothing as the limitedness of my budget sunk in. Josh went to find a bathroom somewhere.

The bathroom happened to be in a bar around the corner and it also happened to sound like a great idea to go there and have a drink - or several - before heading up to see Andrew's play. We were going to be seeing Kafka performed - you would want a drink too.

I'm going to skip the great bar story that included a somewhat stylish woman, an occupied women's room, the choice to use the men's room and Josh's psychic abilities predicting that the woman would exit the men's room precipiticely in four, three, two, one...told you so. Suffice it to say that it was a truly excellent moment.

After that truly excellent moment, we headed uptown to meet one of Eileen's high school friends, Nancy, for the play.

The play was great. There, I said it. It was great.

I wasn't expecting much, to be honest. It was off-off-off-Broadway and then a couple blocks further if you get my meaning and that doesn't often bode well for the play goer. This, however, was a wonderful exception.

The play was 'The Trial' and it was directed by Eileen's high school friend Andrew. I wish it were running longer, I would actually recommend it. It was well done from start to finish and performed on a small - very small - space, where the audience is essentially right there on the stage. Pulling that off is no small feat, but the actors did a great job of it and we all enjoyed it a lot. I for one did leave shaking my heading and muttering something like, 'fucking Kafka...' though.

Josh's new fiancee, Ladybear, met us and we all went to a bar a couple blocks up where Andrew and cast showed up shortly after. Drinks were had and my favorite quote of the night was uttered by the lovely Ava (the lone female in the play). Cue the earnest thespian face, leaning in across the table, left hand giving the Italian sign for 'delicious'...

"No...it was like golden fucking caramel...being spoken," said Ava.

From there it was a foursome - the SF3 and Ladybear - and a trip to the Blue Ribbon Bakery. At least, I think that's where we ended up. As it turned out, those crazy solar flares also caused some restaurant confusion to occur.

Ladybear elaborated a bit on her uncanny ability to know how to pick up any woman over our late dinner. The irony that the one superpower I could really use was, in fact, given to a woman was not lost on me.

The subway trip back is impossible to describe, but believe me when I say that it was a classic destined to rank high in the annals of New York subway riding lore. There were bright blue stretch pants, high school boys in matching jeans and striped shirts, and words exchanged by two guys with their zippers open to begin with, followed by some dry humping, the offer of a jacket, and the exchanging of vows between the tart in tights and a penis. All this, and I wasn't even drunk - although half the train was it seemed.

The theatre of the absurd was the perfect nightcap.

Bottle of red, bottle of white (part one)

2007-03-02T03:54:00.000-06:00

A sleepless night followed by an early morning drive to the airport should add up to a god-awful flying experience. Lucky for me, my travel karma was pretty good and I had a great flight out of the wilds of Milwaukee and the only bad thing that happened was that I arrived in Newark a tired camper.

It's an easy train ride into the city from Newark and my ride was greatly improved by conversation with an older couple from Virginia. They were up for the weekend and were very nice indeed. Their Southern charm and accents provided a nice easing into the hum and buzz of Gotham.

The Newark train took me to Penn Station where I met a great homeless guy, John. He was taking the No. 2 as well and I bought him his subway ride and settled in for trip uptown. He told me about what it was like on the streets after 9/11 and how for a while people actually took notice of him and the many other homeless people in the city. He talked about the haze and smell that hung over much of the city after the attacks.

He also told me how he saw the picture of a police officer that had harassed him before the attacks on a wall at a memorial service for those who gave their lives trying to save others - it had made him cry to realize that this man who seemed so mean had heroically gone into the towers when others had been coming out.

I left John with a few dollars and the sincere hope that life would treat him kindly and stepped off the train to emerge in the glory of the big city.

My friend Josh lives up at the edge of Harlem - just a block or so from the subway stop - so I was soon at his place. Eileen had arrived there earlier and had gotten a nap in already. It was the first time in several years that the San Francisco Three had been in one place and it was a nice reunion (clever pun for those of us in the know intended, of course). If you're scratching your head about the San Francisco Three, I'm afraid you're going to be stuck in the dark because that's a whole other story that's best told over cold beers at the local pub.

We didn't linger long at the apartment - heading right out to start the adventures - so my lack of sleep was shoved to the back to be dealt with later. The SF3 had a city to conquer.

First stop?

Food!

Good thing too, because I was so hungry I was ready to take on one of the legendary giant alligators in the sewers just for the chance to gnaw on some table scraps.

We scarfed some tasty burgers at a little joint in some hotel. Hell if I remember the name of either, all I know is that those were some damn good burgers. My travel karma continued to hold up and we not only just beat the rush, but seats opened up for us right after we ordered. Greasy burgers and fries in our bellies and Sam Adams beer on our breathes, we were ready for some culture, so off we headed to the MOMA.

As if their cool commercials and low prices weren't enough reason to love Target, they also sponsor a free night at the MOMA on Friday evenings. We timed it perfectly to catch the line just as it was being quickly funneled inside. Within a couple minutes of arriving, we were in the building staring down seven-foot red canvas with stripes, Lichtenstein comic paintings, Warhol soup cans, Pollack spatters, and a whole host of other modern art wonders.

Some of it was great, some not so great and some was downright awful, but it was Target's dime, so who were we to complain. Mainly, the trip to the MOMA was a time filler before we headed to a Cartier-Bresson photo exhibit at the International Center for Photography anyway and it fulfilled it's role perfectly.

Imagine that - a museum filled with some of the best modern art in the world, in a city filled with some of the best museums in the world, and it was still just filler to pass a bit of time!

The Cartier-Bresson exhibit was excellent. There were some other wonderful photographers displayed as well, but the main exhibit was essentially about Cartier-Bresson's scrapbook. It was amazing to see the people he was friendly with and the circles he ran in before the WWII. It's a who's who of the art world for sure.

It was also fascinating to learn that he had been arrested by the Nazi's and that it was assumed he had been killed. He wasn't and his resurfacing was an interesting tale.

There were a lot of photos to look at though and many were printed pretty small so it was a bit overwhelming. It can be hard to look at that many photos without sort of glazing over. Luckily for us, the SF3 are all highly qualified photo lookeratters and we easilly handled the challenge.

After the exhibit, it was off to meet Josh's new fiance (congratulations Josh!) for sushi in her neighborhood. The sushi was good and the sake flowed freely - an excellent combination. For my part, I was just happy that they had uni and that it was tasty. It doesn't take much to make me happy when it comes to sushi. I'm pretty sure I made myself a bit too happy by stuffing my face with fish, but everyone was polite enough to not say anything about it.

We went for cupcakes afterwards. I'm convinced that only in New York is such a thing possible.

New York's all right...if you like saxophones

2007-03-01T03:20:00.000-06:00

New York was incredible! Great fun was had. We did many things and packed quite a lot into not very many days.

I didn't get a hold of fellow blogger Phoenix while out there and hope he'll forgive the snafu. But Josh, Eileen and I did manage to hit restaurants, bars, museums and even a play. We had evil spirits chased away by dragons in Chinatown, checked out Manhattan Portage bags in Soho, and threw snowballs in Harlem.

There's much to tell, but I've been tired and not really into the idea of writing much. So, I'll leave you with the sounds of a wee group o' guys singing on the steps of a building in Soho.

Maybe some coffee will get me going later and I'll relate all the fun that was had.

Commence countdown.

2007-02-19T13:07:00.000-06:00

We've got New York City in five...four...three...

The countdown to a long weekend of fun in NYC has begun.

This Friday, I get to hop a plane to the Big Apple to see my friend Josh. His is the story of a nice midwestern boy jumping into the whiz-bang excitement of Gotham. Armed with nothing but optimism and a middle-of-America sense of goodness, Josh has taken on the urban monster and subdued it.

Eileen will be there too. She's flying in from the 'Nati. She's already been lording the fact that she'll be getting there first over me. Just remember the tortoise and the hare, Eileen. It's not who starts out first from the starting blocks that matters - it's who gets the most hookers by the end of the weekend. I'm just sayin'...

Who knows what will unfold. It may be a whir of museums, shopping and fabulous shows. Or maybe we'll just smoke some pot, play video games, and hang out in seedy bars. Not that any of us would ever inhale...much. But, if ever there was a place to explore our Bukowskiness, New York would be that place.

(Brief disclamer...the use of illicit drugs or the overuse of alcohol is not recommended by Cheeseismoldymilk or the dude who scrawls things to post on it. Drugs are bad and alcohol consumption is only safe in moderation. Remember, when in doubt...'just say no'. We now return you to this blog's regularly scheduled blah, blah, blahage.)

On the oh-my-god-I-had-no-idea-that-was-this-weekend front...the New York Comicon is this weekend too. It may be hard to not try and skip out to see that for a few hours. The best the world of sequential art has to offer right there at my fingertips. Why not just dangle a Krispy Kreme doughnut in front of face all weekend?

I would love to hit up a Buddhist temple of some sort too. Or, better yet, spend an hour with Robert Thurman. He's the head of the Tibet House, teaches Buddhism at Columbia, is friends with the Dalai Lama, and - this one tripped me out - the father of Uma Thurman. I suppose I could hang with Richard Gere for an hour instead, but it probably wouldn't be as fun.

I'm also sort of hoping to run into Natalie Portman, Marisa Tomei, or Sophia Coppola on the streets while I'm the city. Anyway, I've got some laundry to do between now and then. It wouldn't do to be wearing dirty underwear...just in case. What? It could happen.

Anyway, that's all I've got for you.

Resuming countdown...two...one...

That breeze might just be someone's compassion

2007-02-12T11:08:00.000-06:00

Walking through the rugged countryside of Tibet, you would likely see long strings of tattered pieces of cloth hanging here, there and seemingly everywhere. The wind blowing down through a valley would gently rustle or fiercely flap them. And with every movement, the prayers they represent would rise up and flow to all edges of the world.

These prayer flags are strung from trees, buildings and bridges. They adorn stupas and protect travellers in dangerous areas. Everyone, from the most humble peasant to the wealthiest merchant, places prayer flags and understands their meaning.

They raise prayers to the Buddhas and the deities - not to be confused with our western concepts of gods and divine beings - like the ever popular Tara. Within Buddhism - and Tibetan Buddhism in particular - there are many deities.

Tara, the protector, is one of them. She has many forms, the two most common and popular being the White Tara and the Green Tara. She is called upon for aid and protection and also to grant wisdom. She is known for her swift response and compassionate strength.

It would be easy to assume that Tibetan Buddhists consider her a goddess - a part of a vast pantheon of many gods and goddesses much like the Greeks and Romans were known to worship - but that would be a wrong view of Buddhist belief. On the one hand, Tara is revered as a deity who has great powers for good. The tricky part is that she is also considered to be simply a female manifestation of the Buddha of Compassion, who is in turn considered a deity and also simply a manifestation of the Buddha nature inherent in everyone and everything.

In deity practice, the practitioner may visualize the deity before them to begin with, and later visualize becoming like the deity, and finally becoming the deity. That is to say, they become Tara - or whatever deity they are contemplating.

For a Tibetan Buddhist, this makes perfect sense. For a westerner - not so much.

What the westerner is likely to not grasp is that the manifestation of the deity is really a manifestation of one's self - a part of one's nature - and by visualizing or becoming the deity, the practitioner is cultivating the qualities of the deity within themselves. They are not becoming a god, or godlike, in the western sense, but are manifesting complete compassion, or understanding, or wisdom by first imagining possessing those qualities, then cultivating them and finally realizing that they were always there, but obscured by wrong views and misconceptions.

Despite the vast array of deities to be found in Tibetan Buddhism, it is not a multi-theistic religion at all. In fact, it is a non-theistic belief system.

The Greeks, for example, followed multi-theism. They had multiple gods and goddesses with supernatural powers. Some gods had more powers than others, but they all were separate from mortals and lived above them, wielding their powers over them.

Judaism brought out the idea of monotheism - although it wasn't the first religion to do so. A single god that was responsible for all the universe - it's creation, it's functioning and all within it. This god was all knowing and all powerful.

Buddhism has no such god. The historical Buddha was a mortal - a person - who was an historical prince. He gave up his riches to seek spiritual fulfillment. Along the way, he tried all the spiritual and religious avenues available to him and was never fully happy with any of them. Finally, he sat down, faced his own demons and came to the some realizations about the reality of the world. In short, he became fully enlightened. He didn't become a god, he became fully enlightened and in doing so took on - or manifested - qualities that could be considered godlike. Neither he nor his followers ever made claims of divinity - just awakening.

Anyway, that's all neither here nor there but rather a background for the whole prayer flag thing.

See, although the prayers upon the flags may be addressed to a particular deity like Tara, they are really more intentions and goodwill being sent out to all the universe. The intention of creating and spreading compassion is woven into the fibers of each flag and written on it's face in the form of a prayer or mantra. These flags are hung with the intention of benefiting all mankind and when the wind blows across them it carries that compassion across the land.

So, the same wind that is blowing down the valley in Tibet may carry those prayers across the land, to the ocean and over it and the next land. And those prayers might be on the breeze that gently tossles your hair as you walk from your car to the grocery store. Maybe the breeze you feel is carrying my prayers for you, or the prayers and compassion of a complete stranger.

Anyway, it's something to think about. And it's worth stopping to think about what thoughts, prayers and intentions you are sending out and who's hair they might be tossling in a parking lot, or in a high mountain valley.

Thanks for the lessons Dad

2007-02-02T19:43:00.000-06:00

There are a lot of lessons to learn in life. How to tie your shoes, zip up your coat, and look both ways before crossing the street – the things your parents teach you.

My father and mother were there by my side, holding my hand as I learned these things. They patiently waited while I dawdled behind, stopping to inspect every rock, or pebble, or leaf along the way. They ran alongside as I wobbled my bike forward for the first time without training wheels, more proud than I as I rode forward, swaying back and forth.

They taught me to share my toys, eat my vegetables and say ‘excuse me’ if I burped. From them I learned to try hard at school, be nice to other kids and behave in the classroom.

Great lessons all.

There are also things you learn from books. My mom and dad were both there to show me places on the globe, help me with my math, and scold me when I didn’t study hard enough. My parents worked hard to make sure that a good education was available and that I learned as much as possible from books and school.

These too were great, and I learned a lot from the books my parents made available.

But there are some things that can’t be taught at all. You can only learn them by seeing someone else doing them. And when it comes to these lessons, I had the greatest example of all in my father.

We never really sat down and talked about how to be good man – a good person – but his example taught me everything I’ll ever need to know.

I learned that if you marry, you work hard to provide a good life for your wife. And when you have children, you work hard to provide for them. My father did these things. He did them and never once complained.

When my brother and I were in school, he not only worked hard at his job, but also became involved in our lives. He was there for track meets, choir and band concerts, and everything we ever did. He ran for and joined the local school board because he knew his talents could be put to use there to ensure that the education that all the kids in our town received would be the best it could be. Meanwhile, my mother joined the PTA and helped at school too.

Uninvolved parents? I didn’t even know there was such a thing. My father was always so quietly involved that I assumed that’s how all parents were. It wasn’t until much later in life that I realized how lucky I was to have a father like mine.

When we moved to California, I watched my father leave for work early in the morning and arrive back in the evening. I never gave much thought to the hours he spent on the Los Angeles freeways each morning and night – commuting so far because he wanted us to live in a nice neighborhood with safe schools and good neighbors. Never once did I hear him complain – although I now know how tired he must have been. So, although he never told me this was something a man did because he loved his family, I know now that it is.

His example taught me.

I also learned that a man doesn’t need to make noise to be a man. I can’t remember a time that I heard my father’s voice raised in anger and I know I never heard him utter a coarse word in his long life. He was a quiet man, content to sit back in and let others be the center of attention. He wasn’t shy, just a man who quietly did what he knew was right.

I learned that a man is kind and generous. My dad did everything for his family. He had his pleasures – his computer was one of them – but, he would have gladly given it up if any of us ever needed anything. Both he and my mother would always do without so that even the smallest of desires my brother and I had were fulfilled. And later, I saw the simple joy of seeing his grandchildren running through the house light up his eyes like no pile of gold ever would.

I learned that loving kindness doesn’t make someone less a man, but more a man, as I watched my father stroke the head of the dog or pet a purring cat. We always had animals in the house – I don’t think my father would have had it any other way. It was just part of his caring nature.

I learned that you cherish your wife by watching my father’s constant love for my mother – a love that rose above any petty squabbles and day-to-day hardships. Through 42 years of marriage and two children, I never saw it waver. Their love rode out every storm and was something worthy of emulating and striving for.

Through countless days at County Stadium watching the Brewers play ball, handfuls of parent teacher conferences, and the roller coaster of growing up, my father was always there. He was there to see me graduate and he was there for my first license. He was there when I lost a job and he was there when I got a new one. Bounced about by life? – my father was a solid point, a supportive place. Happy or sad times, he was always there - even if far away.

And by just being there, he taught me more than I could have ever learned alone.

But mostly, I learned that if I ever grow to become half the man my father was, I would be a great man indeed. And, even though he’s gone from my day to day life, he’s still with me – a constant teacher, a great father.

Downloadtastic

2007-01-07T21:10:00.000-06:00

I'm blaming it on Eileen - mostly because it's her fault and partly because it's just fun to say 'I'm blaming it on Eileen.' The other day, she posted about emusic's awesome offer of 100 free downloads if you just sign up for their monthly service. You can even cancel anytime - including before you actually even have to pay anything. If you find yourself needing 100 free downloads, you can go here for their offer.

So far my downloads have fed this weird hip-hop obsession I've been having lately. I downloaded a new album produced by Hi-Tek - Hi-Teknology, Vol. 2. It's got a crazy, awesome mix of talent on it. There's Ghostface Killah and Raekwon, Talib Kweli, Dion, Judakiss and a lot more. And, as Eileen so astutely noted when I told her about it, Hi-Tek hails from the 'Nati. The jury's still out on how much I like this album, but I think I dig it. It will take a couple more listens to be sure though.

Downloaded a Talib Kweli album too - Right About Now. It's pretty good too. Talib Kweli is sort of the thinkin' man's flow artist. He pops out some great poetry for sure, but has never really hit it big on the hip-hop charts. It's his rhymes that set him apart if you ask me. People in the business love him though. All the big names point to him as a great artist who deserves more recognition.

Haven't had much time to listen to this one yet, but what I've heard I like a lot. I'm finding that I'm becoming a big fan of Kweli. Everyone who likes them some hip-hop gone likes them some Kweli.

Also picked up 2K6: The Tracks. It's an RJD2 offering. I owe Josh for the RJD2 intro. There are a lot of talented artists on this one too. It's an okay album, but maybe not top of the list. It might grow on me...if this hip-hop kick keeps up.

Downloaded Camera Obscura and TV On The Radio too. Not so much excited by Camera Obscura, but it could just be my mood. Haven't listened to TVOTR yet, but Gregg tells me they're awesome. He's been ready to call them the next big thing since he heard them a while back. I guess a lot of people have been saying that, but I totally missed out on them. This will be my attempt to get on the bandwagon.

And what download frenzy would be complete without some classical music? I choose some Bach for my listening pleasure. Oddly, I've never owned any Bach. Weird. Well, that's taken care of now. I'm hoping it's some good versions. That's the worst thing about classical music. You never really know if you're going to like the interpretation until you buy it and listen to it. I've had some pretty annoying disappointments over the years - Nigel Kennedy, I'm talking about you and your ridiculously pompous work.

I still have 22 tracks to download, so I'm open to suggestions. Let me know if there's something I need to get.

Francoise Hardy - the model of French cool

2007-01-04T12:39:00.000-06:00

When I was growing up, there was still a bit of lingering French cool. Traces of 60s France lingered on in movie soundtracks and sort of off on the edges of my conciousness. I didn't know it at the time, but everything I thought of as French cool was to be found in Francoise Hardy.

Hardy was in the top ranks of French Ye-Ye in the mid sixties. Ye-Ye was pretty much a movement of hip, bubblegum, girl singers that swept French pop in the sixties. Their music was pretty much, pure, un-cut pop shot directly into the veins. Ye-Ye was probably the closest thing to mainlining pop music that ever existed - although some might argue that Swedish pop is perenially pretty gooey and Japanese schoolgirl pop is over-the-top perky too.

Amid this, stood Francoise Hardy - part of it, but apart from it. Hardy was the smoking brunette in the sea of blonde and her long, slim, model look set a new standard for French beauty. And, yeah, her voice is darn sexy too.

For a sweet look at Hardy then and now, watch this last one - a video featuring Hardy and Jacques Dutronc. It's beautiful portrait of youth and maturity, and maybe just a good example of how to age gracefully.

New Year

2007-01-01T17:19:00.000-06:00

The New Year always offers a sense of new hope for the upcoming year. It's a bit like a candle flame actually - a shining beacon of warmth in the dark night and, yet, so very easy to put out. May the candlelight of your hope be protected from the wind and may it guide you forward to a bright new year.

Cheers.

Can you write a little louder, my hearing isn't that great

2006-12-22T02:10:00.000-06:00

Ever audiobook? You know, listen to a recording of a book being read.

I was never a big fan, but my iPod - Boris the Black - has helped make a fan of me. Boris likes the idea of just playing for long periods of time without me messing about with him to pick different stuff.

Anyway, Boris and I have been on a bit of an audiobook spree of late. We've been through Robert Ludlum's, The Ambler Warning, and Neal Stephenson's, Snow Crash, of late. The Ludlum book would have been better to read - it would have taken me a third of the time - but it was entertaining.

Snow Crash, on the other hand, was great. Snow Crash is a great book to start with. My friend Josh gave it to me to read a long time ago and it took me forever to get past the first chapter. Once I did, it was amazing. Hearing it read reminded me how truly groundbreaking some of the ideas in it were for when it was written. He really nailed a lot of our current technology and computer trends. If you haven't read it, you can't really be considered a cybergeek and we all know how cool it is to be a cybergeek.

I've also been listening to Immersion German off and on. It's just German conversations done at normal speed and then slower and then normal again. The only English is a brief introduction at the start of each one to set the scene - basically, 'Gunter and Heidi are at home. Gunter is watching the end of a soccer match and they are trying to decide what kind of food they're in the mood for and what restaurant to go to...' Of course, I can't understand much of it, but that's sort of the point. You just listen to it over and over and it begins to make sense. A bit like learning language as a kid.

Anyway, the other day I downloaded another cool book, The Areas of My Expertise. It's free at Audible.com right now and is pretty darn funny - in an offbeat sort of way. It's by John Hodgman. You probably know him as PC in the 'get a Mac' commercials.

I got the link from my good buddy Neil Gaiman who said, "You need this free audiobook. If you think you don't, you are wrong. Trust me. It's funny. Also, it's free."

Okay, that's sort of a lie. I don't even know Neil Gaiman - I've only been to his website. He is responsible for the bold statement though and he's right about the audiobook. You can follow this Boing Boing link to the audiobook on iTunes.

Anyway, the audiobooks have been keeping me entertained during the long hours of work tedium and boy does that make me happy. And, it's keeping Boris happy too which is always a bonus. But, I do have the hankering to sit down and do some reading. I'll never get tired of flipping through real pages in the wee hours of the morning and not getting enough sleep because the book was just too good to put down.

Budget me this Batman...

2006-12-19T06:27:00.000-06:00

One thing about the information super highway is - well - there's a lot of information out there. Some of it is amusing. Some of it is deep and though provoking. Some of it's both.

I found one that's sort of both here. Frankly, it would be more amusing if it didn't have such a real impact on most Americans (those who aren't blessed with multi-million dollar fortunes that is). It's a look at how the Democrats and Republicans stack up on the economy, size of government, expenses of said government.

Keep in mind while you're trolling through this that it is dealing with the modern era, but doesn't include the current Bush administration's fine stewardship. The numbers run from Kennedy through Clinton.

By the way, the numbers were originally compiled on this guy's blog, which looks like it's full of some interesting thoughts - or spotlighting of some interesting facts and tidbits, at least.

Fun with 3D

2006-12-17T06:15:00.000-06:00

Been playing with a 3D program a bit. It's fun to mess about with, but it's a resource hog. To really have some 3D fun you need to have a blistering quick machine with tons of memory. Until that happens, I'm contenting myself with sticking to making some still pictures.