Gone Fishing...

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

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

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

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...

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?

"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

"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

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

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...

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?

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...

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

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...

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...

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.