Been quiet on the blogging front. Just thought I'd mention that the King of Men had to trim it back a bit this morning. Every so often, she (what I call me beard) gets into "Return of the King" range and must be brought back to the early stages of "Fellowship of the Ring." Hope all dudes are chillin.
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
Monday, December 27, 2004
Earthquake: Good God
It doesn't seem really in good taste to bring up any other subject today, in the wake of the mind-boggling disaster that struck southeast Asia's coasts.
The majority of my charity dollars these days I try to allocate at the beginning of the year, so I am not facing the situation of being "guilted" into giving to someone pressuring me over the phone, etc. But in instances like this, where there is a sudden, unexpected, and critical need for aid, I try to make an exception. I know there's a lot of really good organizations out there doing brave and incredible work, but I offer the two suggestions for giving below to anyone else interested (the first, because I admire the noble work being done by the doctors involved, and the second because they really know what the hell they're doing in cases like this):
Doctors Without Borders/Médecins Sans Frontières
P.O. Box 2247
New York, NY 10116-2247
888-392-0392
www.doctorswithoutborders.org
American Red Cross
International Response Fund
P.O. Box 37243
Washington, D.C. 20013
800-HELP NOW
www.redcross.org
The majority of my charity dollars these days I try to allocate at the beginning of the year, so I am not facing the situation of being "guilted" into giving to someone pressuring me over the phone, etc. But in instances like this, where there is a sudden, unexpected, and critical need for aid, I try to make an exception. I know there's a lot of really good organizations out there doing brave and incredible work, but I offer the two suggestions for giving below to anyone else interested (the first, because I admire the noble work being done by the doctors involved, and the second because they really know what the hell they're doing in cases like this):
Doctors Without Borders/Médecins Sans Frontières
P.O. Box 2247
New York, NY 10116-2247
888-392-0392
www.doctorswithoutborders.org
American Red Cross
International Response Fund
P.O. Box 37243
Washington, D.C. 20013
800-HELP NOW
www.redcross.org
Thursday, December 23, 2004
Great, Short Christmas Story I Leave You With
Last weekend, just after waking up for our early Christmas in Waterloo:
Daddy: Lucy, can you say "Merry Christmas?"
Lucy: "DON'T WANT."
Daddy: Lucy, can you say "Merry Christmas?"
Lucy: "DON'T WANT."
An Hour with Alyx
A freaky otherworldly experience. ALYX is actually a new procedure being used by some blood centers that is capable of taking twice the amount of red blood cells as a standard donation. They way they achieve this is by extracting your plasma from the blood in a cetrifuge and then actually returning it to your body on site and during the procedure.
The process actually involves four extraction/return processes, so you are never out the full amount of fluid at any time. But it was weird-both physically and psychologically. Physically, in that the plasma would be near room temperature by the time they were ready to pump it back in--which, of course, is far below body temperature. They had a heating pad over my shoulder to help maintain my temperature, but I still developed a chill. From a mental standpoint, it was crazy watching this mostly clear substance that was my plasma fill up a bag, and then watch the level begin to go down as it was pumped back in. Sort of like I woke up at an inopportune time during an alien abduction.
On a side note, I was eligible to donate cause the iron content in my blood was very high. The lady testing me said, "You must eat a lot of red meat."
The process actually involves four extraction/return processes, so you are never out the full amount of fluid at any time. But it was weird-both physically and psychologically. Physically, in that the plasma would be near room temperature by the time they were ready to pump it back in--which, of course, is far below body temperature. They had a heating pad over my shoulder to help maintain my temperature, but I still developed a chill. From a mental standpoint, it was crazy watching this mostly clear substance that was my plasma fill up a bag, and then watch the level begin to go down as it was pumped back in. Sort of like I woke up at an inopportune time during an alien abduction.
On a side note, I was eligible to donate cause the iron content in my blood was very high. The lady testing me said, "You must eat a lot of red meat."
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Shitting in the Stacks Vol 2
Over the past number of months, I have received a vast amount of correspondence from readers asking for a follow-up to my piece, "Shitting in the Stacks." It was not until last night, however; an hour and a half before my GIS class final, that I had a second personal experience from which to draw.
Shitting in the Stacks Vol. 2
With rasters, vectors, and interpolation crowding my weary head, I was testing the law of diminishing returns with respect to fact-retention in the last couple of hours prior to this final test. The weather was bitter cold; 1 degree above zero with a biting wind, and without warning, a sudden, butt-crippling urge to take a shit was upon me. Without hesitation, I headed for Wilson Library (built 1961).
I glided through the level-one turnstile and jogged left a step or two into a familiar torchere-lit hall to the men's room. It was an hour prior to the last slot on the last finals day of the semester. Nobody was around. Banks upon banks of empty, iron-wrought stalls lined the back room of the two-room facility. In each was a marvelous, ivory-white porcelin stool that were made from a Time of Craft, with brass plungers and a curious, vaguely odd shape that brought to mind notions of antiquity, not unlike those old bathtubs with feet. I breathed a sigh of anticipation that echoed off multitudinous surfaces and entered the third one from the left. It crammed full of shit and toilet paper, so I exited and went to the stall on the far right.
Sitting down, I noticed fancy light fixtures above that sent beams of golden incandescence down to reflect off the water's surface, then back up between my thighs to dance upon the intricate, relief-filled walls and ceiling. Whatever turds emerged I do not remember. They must have descended quietly in turn, almost reverently, to the bottom of the bowl. Whatever smell there may have been I also cannot recall, for I was taken with the dusty smell of tomes that worked decades to find its way through cracks and vents. My task was rendered academic with thoughts of scholars that have filled incalculable number of bowls preceding me.
Finishing, I left to find a quiet place to get my mind ready before the test.
Shitting in the Stacks Vol. 2
With rasters, vectors, and interpolation crowding my weary head, I was testing the law of diminishing returns with respect to fact-retention in the last couple of hours prior to this final test. The weather was bitter cold; 1 degree above zero with a biting wind, and without warning, a sudden, butt-crippling urge to take a shit was upon me. Without hesitation, I headed for Wilson Library (built 1961).
I glided through the level-one turnstile and jogged left a step or two into a familiar torchere-lit hall to the men's room. It was an hour prior to the last slot on the last finals day of the semester. Nobody was around. Banks upon banks of empty, iron-wrought stalls lined the back room of the two-room facility. In each was a marvelous, ivory-white porcelin stool that were made from a Time of Craft, with brass plungers and a curious, vaguely odd shape that brought to mind notions of antiquity, not unlike those old bathtubs with feet. I breathed a sigh of anticipation that echoed off multitudinous surfaces and entered the third one from the left. It crammed full of shit and toilet paper, so I exited and went to the stall on the far right.
Sitting down, I noticed fancy light fixtures above that sent beams of golden incandescence down to reflect off the water's surface, then back up between my thighs to dance upon the intricate, relief-filled walls and ceiling. Whatever turds emerged I do not remember. They must have descended quietly in turn, almost reverently, to the bottom of the bowl. Whatever smell there may have been I also cannot recall, for I was taken with the dusty smell of tomes that worked decades to find its way through cracks and vents. My task was rendered academic with thoughts of scholars that have filled incalculable number of bowls preceding me.
Finishing, I left to find a quiet place to get my mind ready before the test.
Monday, December 20, 2004
Shit, Man
The longest commute I have ever had going into the Best Buy office this morning. We had a very unique type of freezing rain that only comes around once every few years-it instantly freezes & becomes ice upon hitting your window. I had parked in the garage, so my car was totally clear when I pulled out. By the time I got out of the alley and around the corner, there was a thick layer of ice over my window over which my windshield wiper was bumping. I made it three blocks down the street, barely able to make out the intersections and praying there were no pedestrians out and about, and pulled up to the coffee shop. I stayed there till 8:45, studying for my final tomorrow night, with the idea I'd wait for the ice storm to pass and for rush traffic to subside a bit. The weather let up, but my drive was so slow and so slippery, I didn't get to work until 10:30. Shit, man.
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
Monday, December 13, 2004
Sunday, December 12, 2004
I am Taking "The Acting Challenge"...Are YOU???
Soon, Aaron will be selecting a (hopefully) interesting and (hopefully) challenging movie monologue for me to perform in front of my vidcam. I am hoping to act the shit out of it. After I put my goods out on the line for all to see, I will select a scene for whomever it is that next steps up to the challenge. Will it be you? Or maybe You? Or perhaps maybe even YOU!!!
An interior shot of my Office Space: 1. My 8 x 10 color images of MN outdoors. Inspiring me on a daily basis. 2. Some of my Lucy photos. Also inspiring me on a daily basis. 3. My mini-globe, alerting passers-by that there is a geographer at work in the vicinity. 4. My new 21" monitor (yay!) 5. My Maxwell House instant crystals. This demands an explanation. I am attempting to not spend a buck and a half on good coffee every single day. Part of my attempt to watch my budget. Maxwell House costs me about 3 cents a day. 6. One of the fruits of my production. 7. My headphones. I'm usually on headphones, listening to music or left-wing radio. 8. My hot plate. This is technically illegal at work, but I like to nurse a cup of coffee through the day. If the hot plate goes, I go. All the vice presidents know this. If I leave coffee in it over the weekend and forget to turn it off, the inside bottom looks like the surface of Mercury when I come in on Monday. 9. Caffeine-free Mountain Dew. Don't ask. 10. My "Sir Maps-A-Lot" award certificate. Don't ask. 11. My boss' cube. The reason why I respond to your profanity-laced phone calls, Cory, with curt, monotoned one-or two-word phrases. 12. My view to the outside (the very view from which the picture in the previous photo was taken). 13 My CDs. If there is anything remaining that requires explanation, let me know. Or if these pictures from the "work series" float your boat, let me know. It's not hard to take digital pictures. Lata.
Friday, December 10, 2004
What Does Dan Have in Common with Paul Simon and Billy Joel?
I'm dropping out of school.
Leaning strongly towards it, anyway. This last summer, when I had a sudden "scare" that my company would no longer cover the tuition costs, I was kind of surprised how free and happy the idea of quitting my program made me feel.
The main reason this has cropped up again in my mind is that I am increasingly aware that I am not as motivated in my studies as I was hoping I would be, going back to pursue this grad degree at my Advanced Age. A lot of that comes from many aspects of the program not meeting my expectation. I am finding that the roots of the professors (and, thus, the curriculum) at a research grant institution run deep, and there is a tremendous amount of focus on "peer-researched" academic studies, most of which I do not see directly benefitting the knowledge base I need in my career. Obviously, I understand that part of the program is to teach us to think critically and conceptually. But the MGIS program is a professional program, and I find that as I continue to study that which has little practical application, I get more and more of a sense I am wasting my time. The most glaring example of this is how, upon receiving my syllabus for next semseter (just yesterday), I see that I will be required to write a research proposal. This would be my 4th out of 4 classes so far that require that exact item. The notice I would once again have to dive into academic journals and manufacture an interest in a study area I will never touch after my college career nearly sent me reeling. Thinking about a class you are about to take should not fill you with dread.
Other main considerations are the constant pull of the need to study against the considerations of my family; in particular, Lucy, whose rapid growth and development puts me at risk of not being the father I want to be throughout her earliest years. There are so many things I long to do all those evenings and weekends when the pull of class or studies puts me out of commission. Generally hanging out with Lucy and Sharon; actually enjoying the two most exciting seasons in Minnesota (fall & spring--when I am currently in class); my various music projects; and home improvement, which continues to sit on the backburner.
Many other things swirling around and playing into the decision, but those are the top ones.
Leaning strongly towards it, anyway. This last summer, when I had a sudden "scare" that my company would no longer cover the tuition costs, I was kind of surprised how free and happy the idea of quitting my program made me feel.
The main reason this has cropped up again in my mind is that I am increasingly aware that I am not as motivated in my studies as I was hoping I would be, going back to pursue this grad degree at my Advanced Age. A lot of that comes from many aspects of the program not meeting my expectation. I am finding that the roots of the professors (and, thus, the curriculum) at a research grant institution run deep, and there is a tremendous amount of focus on "peer-researched" academic studies, most of which I do not see directly benefitting the knowledge base I need in my career. Obviously, I understand that part of the program is to teach us to think critically and conceptually. But the MGIS program is a professional program, and I find that as I continue to study that which has little practical application, I get more and more of a sense I am wasting my time. The most glaring example of this is how, upon receiving my syllabus for next semseter (just yesterday), I see that I will be required to write a research proposal. This would be my 4th out of 4 classes so far that require that exact item. The notice I would once again have to dive into academic journals and manufacture an interest in a study area I will never touch after my college career nearly sent me reeling. Thinking about a class you are about to take should not fill you with dread.
Other main considerations are the constant pull of the need to study against the considerations of my family; in particular, Lucy, whose rapid growth and development puts me at risk of not being the father I want to be throughout her earliest years. There are so many things I long to do all those evenings and weekends when the pull of class or studies puts me out of commission. Generally hanging out with Lucy and Sharon; actually enjoying the two most exciting seasons in Minnesota (fall & spring--when I am currently in class); my various music projects; and home improvement, which continues to sit on the backburner.
Many other things swirling around and playing into the decision, but those are the top ones.
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
Daniel Guitarra: Back for More
More feedback, that is. I heard a couple comments on "Here Lies Daniel Guitarra," but would welcome any other thoughts. More than that, though, is anything on the Daniel Guitarra CD Release Party 2-Disc Live Set. I've heard nothing on that, though it is the first opportunity for Pat & Cory to have heard me play live in years and years. Any comments at all?
On a side note, it is SHAMEFUL that I have not gotten a copy of that performance to Aaron & Krista. Will do soon.
On a side note, it is SHAMEFUL that I have not gotten a copy of that performance to Aaron & Krista. Will do soon.
Monday, December 06, 2004
Holiday on 44th and Crunch Cruch
Friday night we did our 2nd annual trip to my neighborhood's "Holiday on 44th" event with Lucy & her cousins (ages 2 1/2 & 4). It's a really cool coming-together with all the local merchants & neighborhood groups working to create this festival with puppet shows, storytellers, roasted chestnuts, Father Christmas, ethnic dancers, hayrides, etc. etc. etc. A lot of fun--too much to fit into one evening with the kids this age.
We waited quite a while in line for pony rides for the boys, but when we got to the head of the line, they asked if we wanted to put Lucy up there, which was something we hadn't even considered, due to her age. She was a natural--sooo funny, watching her little round body move in perfect motion along with the little horse as it trotted. The line for the rides was within sight of our favorite coffee shop. While waiting in line, Lucy saw where we were and immediately started asking about "Sue...Sue...Sue..." (the name of the proprietor). We stopped in there afterwards for hot chocolate and--also very funny--our "coffee" was not in the ceramic mugs to which Lucy is accustomed. She was very concerned. Her world was not right until we sat down at a table and let her take a look into the mugs to verify the brown liquid inside. That's my girl.
In a related note, though, Sharon & I have so thoroughly enjoyed our tradition of morning coffee & conversation that we have gotten to the point that we are doing that every morning we're together & not on vacation. Actually, come to think of it, we usually find coolest coffee shop in the vicinity of where we stay on vacation, as well...Anyway, as much as we enjoy the tradition, we've started to wonder if maybe we're missing out on some morning opportunities for adventure, as we often end up hanging out there for quite some time, and not getting back home till near noon. We decided to cut back to only Saturday mornings, leaving Sunday mornings open for getting out and doing something fun as a family--probably usually a hike, but possibly something else if the mood strikes us or the weather is too crappy. We ended up going out Sunday morning to this really out-of-the-way Wildlife unit in Crystal that is owned by the MAC (Metro Airport Commission), but that no one seems to know about. Had a lot of fun with Lucy, who was trying out some new snow pants. She was tired for the 2nd half of the walk and I carried her. One of my favorite things-she put her head on my shoulder and Sharon & I narrated a recap of all the cool things she did while she drifted off to sleep (Dan: "Did we see cattails?" Lucy: "Heah..." Sharon: "Did we see ice and did the snow crunch?" Lucy: "Heah..." etc. etc.). Actually inspired a new children's picture book idea in me. Wouldn't it be cool to have a momma, daddy, & toddler walking through a nature area and have each page be a new sound that they are making. "Swish" through the long grass. "Crunch" on the snow. "Thump" on the wood-chips. "Crack" on the ice. "Crackle" on the leaves, etc. etc. with the little girl falling slowly asleep the whole time, finally ending with "kiss kiss on the cheek." Sharon & I discussed the idea of partnering (Sharon doing the illustrations--she's got a knack for that) on some sort of cafe-press book...
We waited quite a while in line for pony rides for the boys, but when we got to the head of the line, they asked if we wanted to put Lucy up there, which was something we hadn't even considered, due to her age. She was a natural--sooo funny, watching her little round body move in perfect motion along with the little horse as it trotted. The line for the rides was within sight of our favorite coffee shop. While waiting in line, Lucy saw where we were and immediately started asking about "Sue...Sue...Sue..." (the name of the proprietor). We stopped in there afterwards for hot chocolate and--also very funny--our "coffee" was not in the ceramic mugs to which Lucy is accustomed. She was very concerned. Her world was not right until we sat down at a table and let her take a look into the mugs to verify the brown liquid inside. That's my girl.
In a related note, though, Sharon & I have so thoroughly enjoyed our tradition of morning coffee & conversation that we have gotten to the point that we are doing that every morning we're together & not on vacation. Actually, come to think of it, we usually find coolest coffee shop in the vicinity of where we stay on vacation, as well...Anyway, as much as we enjoy the tradition, we've started to wonder if maybe we're missing out on some morning opportunities for adventure, as we often end up hanging out there for quite some time, and not getting back home till near noon. We decided to cut back to only Saturday mornings, leaving Sunday mornings open for getting out and doing something fun as a family--probably usually a hike, but possibly something else if the mood strikes us or the weather is too crappy. We ended up going out Sunday morning to this really out-of-the-way Wildlife unit in Crystal that is owned by the MAC (Metro Airport Commission), but that no one seems to know about. Had a lot of fun with Lucy, who was trying out some new snow pants. She was tired for the 2nd half of the walk and I carried her. One of my favorite things-she put her head on my shoulder and Sharon & I narrated a recap of all the cool things she did while she drifted off to sleep (Dan: "Did we see cattails?" Lucy: "Heah..." Sharon: "Did we see ice and did the snow crunch?" Lucy: "Heah..." etc. etc.). Actually inspired a new children's picture book idea in me. Wouldn't it be cool to have a momma, daddy, & toddler walking through a nature area and have each page be a new sound that they are making. "Swish" through the long grass. "Crunch" on the snow. "Thump" on the wood-chips. "Crack" on the ice. "Crackle" on the leaves, etc. etc. with the little girl falling slowly asleep the whole time, finally ending with "kiss kiss on the cheek." Sharon & I discussed the idea of partnering (Sharon doing the illustrations--she's got a knack for that) on some sort of cafe-press book...
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
Abstraction
New term, new term paper. Stayed up all night last night working wrapping it up (finally finished it at 5:01, then went out for a very cold run). Today staying awake should be an adventure and a half.
Anyway, I worked so hard on it, my hordes of listeners might appreciate a glimpse, so I present to you....MY ABSTRACT:
An In-Between Census Year Study of Human Migration Using Geographic Information Science(GIS)
Abstract
In this project, I intend to develop a population dataset from in-between Census years, and use it to investigate whether inter-and intra-state migration patterns are as expected, according to previous US Census estimates.
My first literature consideration was to look for other instances in which mid-Census period data sets had been incorporated into human population GIS. Second, I was interested in what other methods researchers have used to investigate these "off-years." Third, I was curious as to how one could integrate such data seamlessly into an existing Census data set. And finally, I investigated the more general notions of population migration geography data and methods.
Upon completing my review of literature, is my determination that sufficient methodology exists to create the data set in which I am interested, and integrate that data with an existing GIS. As state agencies take a greater interest in control over "out-migration," knowledge of residential preferences of workers and consumers will become increasingly more important. An atypical approach, such as the one I propose, may serve to uncover valuable information heretofore hidden in the nebulous muddle that is the period in between Census years.
Anyway, I worked so hard on it, my hordes of listeners might appreciate a glimpse, so I present to you....MY ABSTRACT:
An In-Between Census Year Study of Human Migration Using Geographic Information Science(GIS)
Abstract
In this project, I intend to develop a population dataset from in-between Census years, and use it to investigate whether inter-and intra-state migration patterns are as expected, according to previous US Census estimates.
My first literature consideration was to look for other instances in which mid-Census period data sets had been incorporated into human population GIS. Second, I was interested in what other methods researchers have used to investigate these "off-years." Third, I was curious as to how one could integrate such data seamlessly into an existing Census data set. And finally, I investigated the more general notions of population migration geography data and methods.
Upon completing my review of literature, is my determination that sufficient methodology exists to create the data set in which I am interested, and integrate that data with an existing GIS. As state agencies take a greater interest in control over "out-migration," knowledge of residential preferences of workers and consumers will become increasingly more important. An atypical approach, such as the one I propose, may serve to uncover valuable information heretofore hidden in the nebulous muddle that is the period in between Census years.
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Nightmare Before Christmas
The ghost of Fremont Ave has struck again.
Perhaps a little background. I think everyone remembers the deal about six months ago, when I heard Sharon come down the stairs, saw her (out of the corner of my eye) go into the back room, and queried her as to why she wasn't turning the lights on back there, only to get no response. Moments later, the real Sharon came through the door at the bottom of the stairs. My heart leapt to my throat and a set of goodbumps arose on me that would have made a plucked chicken blush.
So we're dealing with a ghost, that much we know.
Here's the situation tonight: I'm working at the computer. Planning on pulling a near-all-nighter, actually, in an attempt to get a term paper done. This is freaking me out a bit, but about half an hour ago, I heard the closet door (which I can see out of the computer room door by looking back over my shoulder) click open. Understand, I realize there is that state a door can be in when it's not fully latched and friction just kind of gives way. It wasn't quite that. Though I do not recall hearing a door knob turn, I distinctly hear two "clicks" in succession. The click of the latch lifting over the strikeplate, and the click of it snapping back into place as the door swung open. If it was any sort of a natural sound, I don't think my blood would have froze like it did. I looked back. The hallway is somewhat darkened, and I could see nothing. A few minutes later, I went out into the hall and noticed a towel on the ground right on the floor at the base of the inner side of the open door. Not only would the the door have had to unlatch and swing open, but apparently a towel would have had to have been stacked so badly that it fell off the stack and down onto the floor.
Merry Christmas
Perhaps a little background. I think everyone remembers the deal about six months ago, when I heard Sharon come down the stairs, saw her (out of the corner of my eye) go into the back room, and queried her as to why she wasn't turning the lights on back there, only to get no response. Moments later, the real Sharon came through the door at the bottom of the stairs. My heart leapt to my throat and a set of goodbumps arose on me that would have made a plucked chicken blush.
So we're dealing with a ghost, that much we know.
Here's the situation tonight: I'm working at the computer. Planning on pulling a near-all-nighter, actually, in an attempt to get a term paper done. This is freaking me out a bit, but about half an hour ago, I heard the closet door (which I can see out of the computer room door by looking back over my shoulder) click open. Understand, I realize there is that state a door can be in when it's not fully latched and friction just kind of gives way. It wasn't quite that. Though I do not recall hearing a door knob turn, I distinctly hear two "clicks" in succession. The click of the latch lifting over the strikeplate, and the click of it snapping back into place as the door swung open. If it was any sort of a natural sound, I don't think my blood would have froze like it did. I looked back. The hallway is somewhat darkened, and I could see nothing. A few minutes later, I went out into the hall and noticed a towel on the ground right on the floor at the base of the inner side of the open door. Not only would the the door have had to unlatch and swing open, but apparently a towel would have had to have been stacked so badly that it fell off the stack and down onto the floor.
Merry Christmas
Monday, November 29, 2004
Daycares & Worries
We're discontent with our current daycare. Nothing serious to the point of being concerned for safety or anything, but just an environment that has slowly been fostering a growing discontentment of Sharon's & mine over the last number of months since we've started.
The circumstances of our daycare search, if anyone recalls, were not ideal to begin with. After spending the first three months of her life with Momma and the next three with Grandma, Lucy was in a situation where we went through two home daycares (both of which were really, really good situations for her) in the next seven months, as the proprietor of each moved out of town. In the end, the whole experience was more traumatic for Sharon than for Lucy, but nevertheless, consistency is one of the most important things for an infants (and toddlers), and the changes were certainly not what we envisioned for her first year. We were facing a desperate 11th hour search last May before we came up with the place at which we are currently.
There are simply not open lines of communication between us and the providers, which leads to us not getting the information about what's going on day-in and day-out that we want to and, as a result, putting us in what has become an awkward position of prying around, trying to get information every night. We get the idea that other people who use the daycare (none of them really peers) have never really had an expectation that is on par with ours, and it has led to this culture that is really not conducive to parents being involved in and informed on the caregiving. There's other minor little things that we'll notice from time to time that don't sit quite right; none of them very big, individually, but adding up to be a problem, overall.
Anyway, this morning, we had a couple of interviews with new possibilities. The first, a followup visit from a very fortunate reference, was a woman who was really passionate about caring for kids, has been doing it for 20 years, has a really neat set up in and around her house, and is just a lot more generally great than the place we've been (in addition, a little closer and cheaper, which doesn't hurt). After that, we checked out this Montessori school for toddlers and preschoolers that was amazingly cool; the Montessori philosophy is definitely in line with our values (respecting children as thinking people, no TV, lots of construtive, wooden toys, etc.), but not quite in line with our budget. As in, over twice as expensive as the home day care. Montessori is definitely something we'll consider as Lucy approaches school age, but for now it looks like we're going to switch her over to this other lady.
Perhaps more later, but man....such a big, BIG deal, the day care. Needless to say, I'm very excited about the prospect of her being in a better environment.
The circumstances of our daycare search, if anyone recalls, were not ideal to begin with. After spending the first three months of her life with Momma and the next three with Grandma, Lucy was in a situation where we went through two home daycares (both of which were really, really good situations for her) in the next seven months, as the proprietor of each moved out of town. In the end, the whole experience was more traumatic for Sharon than for Lucy, but nevertheless, consistency is one of the most important things for an infants (and toddlers), and the changes were certainly not what we envisioned for her first year. We were facing a desperate 11th hour search last May before we came up with the place at which we are currently.
There are simply not open lines of communication between us and the providers, which leads to us not getting the information about what's going on day-in and day-out that we want to and, as a result, putting us in what has become an awkward position of prying around, trying to get information every night. We get the idea that other people who use the daycare (none of them really peers) have never really had an expectation that is on par with ours, and it has led to this culture that is really not conducive to parents being involved in and informed on the caregiving. There's other minor little things that we'll notice from time to time that don't sit quite right; none of them very big, individually, but adding up to be a problem, overall.
Anyway, this morning, we had a couple of interviews with new possibilities. The first, a followup visit from a very fortunate reference, was a woman who was really passionate about caring for kids, has been doing it for 20 years, has a really neat set up in and around her house, and is just a lot more generally great than the place we've been (in addition, a little closer and cheaper, which doesn't hurt). After that, we checked out this Montessori school for toddlers and preschoolers that was amazingly cool; the Montessori philosophy is definitely in line with our values (respecting children as thinking people, no TV, lots of construtive, wooden toys, etc.), but not quite in line with our budget. As in, over twice as expensive as the home day care. Montessori is definitely something we'll consider as Lucy approaches school age, but for now it looks like we're going to switch her over to this other lady.
Perhaps more later, but man....such a big, BIG deal, the day care. Needless to say, I'm very excited about the prospect of her being in a better environment.
Friday, November 26, 2004
Sorry, Wrong Number! And Standing Above Where You Lay
Saw "Sorry, Wrong Number!" (1948, starring Barbara Stanwyck and Burt Lancaster) over the last couple of nights. I was really tired during the first half of the movie and had a lot of trouble following what was a pretty complex plot, but the filmmaking was so spectacular that near the end of the movie I was drawn completely in, even not knowing exactly what was going on. One of the most thrilling and suspenseful ends to a movie I have EVER SEEN, bar none. So much so that I just got Gibb's "sprinkles" as I typed the previous sentence. I WHOLEHEARTEDLY recommend this film. Simply incredible. First movie where Sharon has ever had to cling to my arm and bury her head during the climax.
ALSO--landmark day at work. No, not because it's retail's "Black Friday" (1st shopping day after Thanksgiving), but because I (being pretty much the only guy around in my area) took a big honking long coffee break and finally FINALLY finished my first set of lyrics for the insurgent-country SECRET OF HIM. Song about my departed grandparents called "Standing Above Where You Lay." Question though, Mixdorf. Is that correct grammar? Or should it be "Standing Above Where You Lie?" If it's that, I might have to change the title, since it wouldn't work quite so well for me, artistically, the latter way. Perhaps I should just not care, though. After all, this is rock n roll (or, more specifically, rock-country). And grammar really shouldn't matter all that much.
Anyway, I would post the lyrics (and still might), but I'm a little hesitant, not knowing if they stand completely on their own merit, as happy with them as I currently am. Perhaps an .mpeg version will be emailed out or posted to my geocities page if I get a recorded version done in the next few weeks.
ALSO--landmark day at work. No, not because it's retail's "Black Friday" (1st shopping day after Thanksgiving), but because I (being pretty much the only guy around in my area) took a big honking long coffee break and finally FINALLY finished my first set of lyrics for the insurgent-country SECRET OF HIM. Song about my departed grandparents called "Standing Above Where You Lay." Question though, Mixdorf. Is that correct grammar? Or should it be "Standing Above Where You Lie?" If it's that, I might have to change the title, since it wouldn't work quite so well for me, artistically, the latter way. Perhaps I should just not care, though. After all, this is rock n roll (or, more specifically, rock-country). And grammar really shouldn't matter all that much.
Anyway, I would post the lyrics (and still might), but I'm a little hesitant, not knowing if they stand completely on their own merit, as happy with them as I currently am. Perhaps an .mpeg version will be emailed out or posted to my geocities page if I get a recorded version done in the next few weeks.
Thursday, November 25, 2004
...And the whole extended clan of Jack & Lois. From L-R: Lindon's boy (Cody), Lindon, Taylor, Amy (who's lost a TON of weight), Me, Sharon, Lucy, John (Laurie's husband), Sean, my Mom, Jared (who's gained a ton of weight), my Dad, Natalie (Laurie's girl), Laurie, and Neil (Laurie's boy who's gained some).
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
Hangmen Also Die!
Saw a movie by that title in only two sessions (which is not bad), finishing last night. About the WWII German occupation of Czechoslovakia and this amazing underground unity of the Prague citizens not to give up an assassin of this high-ranking Nazi, even at the expense of their lives, or the lives of loved ones. Totally film noir; great with shadows, and lots of intrigue, suspense, etc. Also a very powerful story; one that puts minor problems (like, say, a little girl that doesn't seem to want to go to sleep these days) in perspective. Also wild: the movie was made in 1943, during WWII. Kind of crazy, since that that time, even though people knew all about the Nazis and what they were doing, no one was quite sure how things would shake out.
Monday, November 22, 2004
O Brother, There Wast Thou! And Lagers, Malts, and Stouts!
Just a couple of more ruminations on my brother. I ended up getting to spend last Wednesday afternoon with him & his son. Got to show him around downtown Minneapolis, & did a drive through the U of M West Bank, East Lake Street. & Uptown. One might say we went uptown, downtown and all around.
We had a really good, long talk during that time. Looking back at my earlier post, I can't specifically say I would say the points I made were wrong, but maybe I'd say they were unnecessary. Besides my departed grandfather, here I finally find a member of my family with whom I have a real connection, and I had to go and find fault. Shame on me. Consider me a big Lindon fan. Very glad he's my brother.
On a side note; I have a craving for lagers, malts, and stouts. Lagers, malts, and stouts. I wish to visit and be visited by long-time friends. Welcoming one another through the door, sitting on creaky shares by fireplaces in dusty libraries; or out on a patio listening to night sounds and watching the last few sparks of the sun as we reminisce & drink beers so thick we could swaddle them 'round a newborn's ass.
We had a really good, long talk during that time. Looking back at my earlier post, I can't specifically say I would say the points I made were wrong, but maybe I'd say they were unnecessary. Besides my departed grandfather, here I finally find a member of my family with whom I have a real connection, and I had to go and find fault. Shame on me. Consider me a big Lindon fan. Very glad he's my brother.
On a side note; I have a craving for lagers, malts, and stouts. Lagers, malts, and stouts. I wish to visit and be visited by long-time friends. Welcoming one another through the door, sitting on creaky shares by fireplaces in dusty libraries; or out on a patio listening to night sounds and watching the last few sparks of the sun as we reminisce & drink beers so thick we could swaddle them 'round a newborn's ass.
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
The Promised Post on The "Cultural Elitification of Dan Hylton" (good points and bad points)
I will try to do this in a way that simply opens it for discussion
Both my politics and my preferences have gone further left of center, the older I've gotten. I'm listening to Garrison Keillor, watching independent movies, hanging out in the local coffee shop, and listening to Americana music. Folks, this is the "Cultural Elitification of Dan Hylton."
Mixdorf, in a comment to my "Sideways" post, said he was surprised that I went to see a movie about wine-tasting. I submit to you, friends, that the only surprise is that I don't like wine these days.
So, what's the deal?
Has my experience of this world turned me off from that which is considered "mainstream?" Am I simply finding myself more comfortable amongst the crowd that has those preferences? Or are all my new leanings & interests more or less unrelated, but coincidental and just a function of who I am, & what I've been exposed to at this point in time?
Feel free to use percentages in your response.
Both my politics and my preferences have gone further left of center, the older I've gotten. I'm listening to Garrison Keillor, watching independent movies, hanging out in the local coffee shop, and listening to Americana music. Folks, this is the "Cultural Elitification of Dan Hylton."
Mixdorf, in a comment to my "Sideways" post, said he was surprised that I went to see a movie about wine-tasting. I submit to you, friends, that the only surprise is that I don't like wine these days.
So, what's the deal?
Has my experience of this world turned me off from that which is considered "mainstream?" Am I simply finding myself more comfortable amongst the crowd that has those preferences? Or are all my new leanings & interests more or less unrelated, but coincidental and just a function of who I am, & what I've been exposed to at this point in time?
Feel free to use percentages in your response.
Monday, November 15, 2004
A Long-Awaited Reunion
Saw my brother, Lindon, this last weekend. It was the first time since my wedding (and, of course, I had so much going on then I didn't really see much of him there). I've always been told I was very much like him, and I was definitely able to tell some similarities, as I had a good chance to talk with him at length this weekend. Politically and pretty much artistically, there are a lot of ways in which we are very much on at least a similar wavelength; certainly as opposed to others in my household. And he definitely has the Hylton gift of gab. Halfway through our early Thanksgiving in Cedar Rapids, I was thinking "poor Sharon!" Someone once said about our family (honest to God), "You know it's the Grooms (my mom's side, but it runs in all our blood) when everybody is talking at once and no one is listening." I would like to think that, though I talk loud and often, I have some degree of self-consciousness on the matter.
And I guess therein lies what I think is related to maybe the biggest separation between my brother and me: I am self-aware. My brother seems to have managed to spend the last 30 years living this idealized quintessential alternative/artists' lifestyle (though with an almost uncanny ability to end up with hard luck). In many ways it sounds really cool; as though he's really lived life on his own terms and sort of brought into his world that which sort of goes through this filter that which is in concert with this ideal. But somehow, I feel like after a certain amount of time living life like that I would become claustrophobic, almost like Jim Kirk in the Nexus, feeling like I was no longer attatched to that part of pop or normalcy which helps keep me who I am.
My brother has this utter level of comfort with this world of his. I'm a little more self-conscious than that. So, my brother can just start going on about this guy he works with that wears a dress and knits in front of my dad, who mind is suddenly on the verge of being blown. I know not to go there. Kind of makes it look like my brother is just more comfortable with himself and that it is only a good thing; but what if his thing was not wearing any pants? Sometimes this connectedness to those parts of the world that aren't in your own armpit (in this case, the boundaries such people), is what helps us thrive in this world. Is this sort of wide-eyed naivte one of the reasons my brother has also had so many crazy setbacks in his life?
Who knows? But I'm glad to know him; glad he is my brother; and glad I am not him.
In other news, got a (brief) opportunity to toss the lighted rock around with Cory, who unfortunately had to attend to a twice-vomiting Jonah I did get to see the poor little guy, which was nice. Starting to lengthen out a bit (or so it appeared), and looking almost like Cory L in his early brown-pants days. Sounds like the beer-in-Waterloo ban has been lifted, which in turn lifts my spirit. I look forward to having a beer with Cory in the Cedarloo area next time I am in town and toasting all that is true and good in the world.
And I guess therein lies what I think is related to maybe the biggest separation between my brother and me: I am self-aware. My brother seems to have managed to spend the last 30 years living this idealized quintessential alternative/artists' lifestyle (though with an almost uncanny ability to end up with hard luck). In many ways it sounds really cool; as though he's really lived life on his own terms and sort of brought into his world that which sort of goes through this filter that which is in concert with this ideal. But somehow, I feel like after a certain amount of time living life like that I would become claustrophobic, almost like Jim Kirk in the Nexus, feeling like I was no longer attatched to that part of pop or normalcy which helps keep me who I am.
My brother has this utter level of comfort with this world of his. I'm a little more self-conscious than that. So, my brother can just start going on about this guy he works with that wears a dress and knits in front of my dad, who mind is suddenly on the verge of being blown. I know not to go there. Kind of makes it look like my brother is just more comfortable with himself and that it is only a good thing; but what if his thing was not wearing any pants? Sometimes this connectedness to those parts of the world that aren't in your own armpit (in this case, the boundaries such people), is what helps us thrive in this world. Is this sort of wide-eyed naivte one of the reasons my brother has also had so many crazy setbacks in his life?
Who knows? But I'm glad to know him; glad he is my brother; and glad I am not him.
In other news, got a (brief) opportunity to toss the lighted rock around with Cory, who unfortunately had to attend to a twice-vomiting Jonah I did get to see the poor little guy, which was nice. Starting to lengthen out a bit (or so it appeared), and looking almost like Cory L in his early brown-pants days. Sounds like the beer-in-Waterloo ban has been lifted, which in turn lifts my spirit. I look forward to having a beer with Cory in the Cedarloo area next time I am in town and toasting all that is true and good in the world.
Friday, November 12, 2004
Alt-Country (& some credit to Accuradio)
This started out as a post called "While on the Subject of Recommendations...," but quickly became a big essay on me & alt-country. We'll start with the recommendation:
www.accuradio.com (specifically, the Twang channel)
I have gotten into internet radio in the last couple of years. For anyone (which should include everyone) who has ever felt their local radio offerings were too limiting, a near-limitless smorgasboard of genres and styles. I have been wildly debating with myself on which style to pursue for my next album; alt-country or rock n roll, and I credit accuradio's "Twang" station specifically for pushing me over the top in the direction of country. A whole new sub-genre of alt-country (or "insurgent country") that I was not even aware of a year or two ago. Paying honest homage to the sound and style of tradtional country western, but challenging a lot of the traditional themes, lyrically. I grew up with the sound. It was dormant for years and years with only a little occasional foray into Patsy Cline, Willie, Marty Robbins, and some of the old standards. But I have been introduced to a whole new set of wonderful musicians, including Mike Ireland & Hollar, Greg Buckner, Junior Brown (more of a "new traditionalist" than true "insurgent"), and just a slue of artists of the Bloodshot Records label (to which I plan to submit my work in about a year and a half, by the way). For me, it has been a true musical awakening, and a call I cannot resist. To sing about heartbreak is what I want to do!!!
www.accuradio.com (specifically, the Twang channel)
I have gotten into internet radio in the last couple of years. For anyone (which should include everyone) who has ever felt their local radio offerings were too limiting, a near-limitless smorgasboard of genres and styles. I have been wildly debating with myself on which style to pursue for my next album; alt-country or rock n roll, and I credit accuradio's "Twang" station specifically for pushing me over the top in the direction of country. A whole new sub-genre of alt-country (or "insurgent country") that I was not even aware of a year or two ago. Paying honest homage to the sound and style of tradtional country western, but challenging a lot of the traditional themes, lyrically. I grew up with the sound. It was dormant for years and years with only a little occasional foray into Patsy Cline, Willie, Marty Robbins, and some of the old standards. But I have been introduced to a whole new set of wonderful musicians, including Mike Ireland & Hollar, Greg Buckner, Junior Brown (more of a "new traditionalist" than true "insurgent"), and just a slue of artists of the Bloodshot Records label (to which I plan to submit my work in about a year and a half, by the way). For me, it has been a true musical awakening, and a call I cannot resist. To sing about heartbreak is what I want to do!!!
Thursday, November 11, 2004
Sideways
We went out to dinner & a movie last night; the movie being "Sideways," a buddy flick that is quite funny and extremely well written & acted. I would recommend it highly.
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
McCarpilation Vol 1
With the recent purchase of London Town and the self-titled McCartney, my Paul McCartney collection is complete. Or at least as complete as I really have been wanting it to be (I'm in no hurry to get Pipes of Peace or some of his post-Flaming Pie stuff). Last night, then, I assembled the long-awaited McCarpilation Vol 1. With no more than two songs off any one album, I chronilogically spanned the albums I do have and created a CD of 20 songs that are kind of my "closet favorites." I love the songs but don't think they ever achieved much notoriety or chart success. Very excited to share McCarpilation Vol 1 with all!
Thursday, November 04, 2004
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
The Day After
Seems like there's a lot more depressing elections than encouraging ones in recent years. After investing so much of my time & energy over the last number of months, it's a very unreal feeling when it doesn't turn out the way I'd hoped.
You know, our paths really do need to lead us home.
It would be really great to celebrate festive times together (with a round of drinks), and to share down times together (by downing a few drinks).
You know, our paths really do need to lead us home.
It would be really great to celebrate festive times together (with a round of drinks), and to share down times together (by downing a few drinks).
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
An Early Christmas!
I have a $50 Galyans gift certificate, but am totally stymied on what to get. I don't want to get something I absolutely need (like a work shirt), since that wouldn't be any fun. And I don't want to get something that is part of a pair (like an inflatable camp mattress), since that would involve me spending an additional $50 (to get one for Sharon), which would defeat the whole "something for nothing" part of the equation that's got me so excited:
Any ideas of something that would be indulgent and fun and cost 49.99?
Any ideas of something that would be indulgent and fun and cost 49.99?
Civic-MInded!
Starting last night on my drive home, I became more at peace with the vitality of our election process than I had been for months. Maybe it was Mixdorf's optimism, or maybe just kind of the sigh of relief following months and months of attention and focus, knowing that (aside from casting the actual ballot) my role in the whole pre-election process was pretty much over.
Maybe this will change if the election does not return the result I am hoping, but I had a certain peace last night, even with the Bush supporters. On all overpasses in my commute home last night (and my commute in this morning) supporters of one camp or another were waving their signs, and just plain waving. Nothing seemed contentious, even when sharing the space with the opposing camp--everyone, for whatever reason, believed strongly in their guy and were resolute enough to stand out in the cold rain and give one last show of support.
The reality is that there are loads of good-hearted people out there voting for Bush. I may think they're uninformed, and in some cases actually not that bright. But the fact is they are voting in good faith (the good-hearted people, that is), having simply interpreted the various messages they've received differently than have I. Americans may have an issue with misinformation or lack of information, but a lot of that has to do with our campaign laws and the forces that drive our media. People still can care. People still can be active, and on this day I do have hope for our country (again, that'll be tested if Bush wins or "wins").
This morning, getting ready for the 4-block drive to my polling place (I drove cause I was going straight on to work and, after all, it WAS raining), a sudden surge of civic-duty feeling motivated me to make sure I was buckled up even for that short little trip. It also encouraged me to adhere totally to the 55 mph limit (maybe just for this one day). I was very proud to be taking part in this most fundamental tradition of our democracy, and wanted to show my respect by following her laws.
Maybe this will change if the election does not return the result I am hoping, but I had a certain peace last night, even with the Bush supporters. On all overpasses in my commute home last night (and my commute in this morning) supporters of one camp or another were waving their signs, and just plain waving. Nothing seemed contentious, even when sharing the space with the opposing camp--everyone, for whatever reason, believed strongly in their guy and were resolute enough to stand out in the cold rain and give one last show of support.
The reality is that there are loads of good-hearted people out there voting for Bush. I may think they're uninformed, and in some cases actually not that bright. But the fact is they are voting in good faith (the good-hearted people, that is), having simply interpreted the various messages they've received differently than have I. Americans may have an issue with misinformation or lack of information, but a lot of that has to do with our campaign laws and the forces that drive our media. People still can care. People still can be active, and on this day I do have hope for our country (again, that'll be tested if Bush wins or "wins").
This morning, getting ready for the 4-block drive to my polling place (I drove cause I was going straight on to work and, after all, it WAS raining), a sudden surge of civic-duty feeling motivated me to make sure I was buckled up even for that short little trip. It also encouraged me to adhere totally to the 55 mph limit (maybe just for this one day). I was very proud to be taking part in this most fundamental tradition of our democracy, and wanted to show my respect by following her laws.
Monday, November 01, 2004
Post-Halloween Monday Blues
Morning, gentlemen. When I came in this morning, I realized that I had left my electric coaster on over the weekend. Whenever I do that, the bottom of the cup gives me about the closest look to the surface of the sun-facing side of Mercury I'll ever see. Coffee or tea long-since dried up, burnt on, cracked and ancient on the bottom of the mug. A bit of a chore to clean up & prepare for a fresh cup.
The Halloweed Party was a success from the kids' point of view, and exhausting from ours. My stress level was sky high all night long, but we did manage to pull off pizza eating, a viewing of the Charlie Brown Halloween special, a trip through a "haunted house" (to see a ghost), some time spent around a backyard fire, and hallway trick or treating, as well as a few other assorted minor party activities. Donning the old Schlitz cardigan with a dress shirt and black tie underneath and combing my hair all the way over my head from just above the ear, I went as a Schlitz spokesman (from 1956).
Other hilight of the weekend was that I finally got a CD player for my car. Long, long, long overdue. Men at Work: Business as Usual and Level 42: World Machine tapes' days may be numbered.
The Halloweed Party was a success from the kids' point of view, and exhausting from ours. My stress level was sky high all night long, but we did manage to pull off pizza eating, a viewing of the Charlie Brown Halloween special, a trip through a "haunted house" (to see a ghost), some time spent around a backyard fire, and hallway trick or treating, as well as a few other assorted minor party activities. Donning the old Schlitz cardigan with a dress shirt and black tie underneath and combing my hair all the way over my head from just above the ear, I went as a Schlitz spokesman (from 1956).
Other hilight of the weekend was that I finally got a CD player for my car. Long, long, long overdue. Men at Work: Business as Usual and Level 42: World Machine tapes' days may be numbered.
Friday, October 29, 2004
Creatures rise in search of blood, to terrorize yours neighborhood.
Halloween again, my most favorite of holidays. I haven't been able to host my annual Halloween Party that I enjoyed for three years in a row, but this year we are resurrecting the tradition for the younger set. Lucy and her two cousins (ages 2 and 4) will be attending, along with the rest of Sharon's family. We are planning a backyard fire (not sure if the two boys have ever really got to enjoy one of those before), a "haunted house" (that will basically feature a pretty non-scary ghost placed at the end of a twisty tunnel, some interior trick or treating, and some other general Halloween-related festivities.
I originally wanted to go as Luke Skywalker, ala his Degobah scenes, with Lucy as Yoda in a backpack. Sharon didn't think that was necessarily the best way for Lucy to explore her own options, so we ended up going with a lion costume (complete with mane hood and tail). She loves animal sounds and loves to make a roar that, while not very lion-like, is amazingly bobcat-like.
In my own local phenology, the leaves on my sugar maple have just started to turn. It's nuts; we have the latest turning tree in all of Minnesota. The first few leaves are generally starting to drift down right as the City of Minneapolis does their last leaf pick-up of the year. The last couple of years we have borrowed Sharon's Dad's mulching mower and just used the resulting leaf mulch to winterize Sharon's garden, so it's not been an issue. But STILL...
In my own local phrenology, the bumps on my head portend a kick-ass year for the Minnesota Timberwolves.
I originally wanted to go as Luke Skywalker, ala his Degobah scenes, with Lucy as Yoda in a backpack. Sharon didn't think that was necessarily the best way for Lucy to explore her own options, so we ended up going with a lion costume (complete with mane hood and tail). She loves animal sounds and loves to make a roar that, while not very lion-like, is amazingly bobcat-like.
In my own local phenology, the leaves on my sugar maple have just started to turn. It's nuts; we have the latest turning tree in all of Minnesota. The first few leaves are generally starting to drift down right as the City of Minneapolis does their last leaf pick-up of the year. The last couple of years we have borrowed Sharon's Dad's mulching mower and just used the resulting leaf mulch to winterize Sharon's garden, so it's not been an issue. But STILL...
In my own local phrenology, the bumps on my head portend a kick-ass year for the Minnesota Timberwolves.
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
Some Day Our Paths May Lead Us Home
But until that day, I want to bring up the subject of friend visits. In early summer, Cory came to visit and there was this idea that the only way he was able to swing it was to be coming to help out with my attic insulation. I resisted at the time-both the sort of deception (though he really did help a great deal, it was not a situation in which I was in any particular need of help), and the waste of time in which we could have been hanging out and raising hell.
Now it appears Gibbs is heading to CF with a chainsaw for some backyard Forestry.
Is this what we've come to?
Consider this my official notice that I am pulling out of these "work contingent" friend visits. If someday (as the title states) our paths lead us home, and we reside in the same metro (and are able to get together whenever we please), that may change. But until then, life is too short. My current official/unofficial plan for friend visits would allow me an opportunity to visit Pat M, Pat G, and Cory L, each, every other year, with the option receiving them as visitors on the other years. There will be instances in which I incidentally get together with each of you as a result of your other visits to the Twin Cities, or my visits to Waterloo. Or times like, with Ingawanis last year or Escalante, when we all get together. But you can do the math--how many times will I see any one of you guys at that rate before I turn 50? 25 times, tops? Twice I have gone out to the East Coast and I feel Mixdorf has done it right--he graciously sets aside a few days and we have non-stop excitement the way it's meant to be. I would love to return the favor (having not ever hosted Mixdorf solo for more than an evening). Indeed, I would love to open my home and the wonders of Minnesota to each of you guys, and leave the home repairs for another weekend. I have no doubt that Gibbs & Cory will have a load of laughs and much good times during this upcoming visit, and I don't mean to be a total downer. In fact, you could almost say this visit is a little different, since there's this whole Forestry aspect that allows them to share a common interest from their past. But man, if they're going to spend more than just a few hours laboring back there, shame on them. A world of Illuminator, beer, hiking, and much much more awaits.
Now it appears Gibbs is heading to CF with a chainsaw for some backyard Forestry.
Is this what we've come to?
Consider this my official notice that I am pulling out of these "work contingent" friend visits. If someday (as the title states) our paths lead us home, and we reside in the same metro (and are able to get together whenever we please), that may change. But until then, life is too short. My current official/unofficial plan for friend visits would allow me an opportunity to visit Pat M, Pat G, and Cory L, each, every other year, with the option receiving them as visitors on the other years. There will be instances in which I incidentally get together with each of you as a result of your other visits to the Twin Cities, or my visits to Waterloo. Or times like, with Ingawanis last year or Escalante, when we all get together. But you can do the math--how many times will I see any one of you guys at that rate before I turn 50? 25 times, tops? Twice I have gone out to the East Coast and I feel Mixdorf has done it right--he graciously sets aside a few days and we have non-stop excitement the way it's meant to be. I would love to return the favor (having not ever hosted Mixdorf solo for more than an evening). Indeed, I would love to open my home and the wonders of Minnesota to each of you guys, and leave the home repairs for another weekend. I have no doubt that Gibbs & Cory will have a load of laughs and much good times during this upcoming visit, and I don't mean to be a total downer. In fact, you could almost say this visit is a little different, since there's this whole Forestry aspect that allows them to share a common interest from their past. But man, if they're going to spend more than just a few hours laboring back there, shame on them. A world of Illuminator, beer, hiking, and much much more awaits.
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
Friday, October 22, 2004
Well, That Does It. I'm Not a Baseball Fan
As I realized yesterday morning, if I couldn't be motivated to watch an historic game 7 between the Sox and the Yankees for the AL Pennant, I couldn't be motivated for much of anything. Come to think of it, I didn't watch any of the Twins games in the playoffs this year. I sort of told myself I was too busy with studying & family time & so on, but the reality is that if I really cared I would have found a way to watch the games.
This is really pretty monumentous for me. Baseball is DEEPLY entrenched in the history of the males in my family, with my granddad being a lifetime manager (& bookie--a Pete Rose ahead of his time, you might say), and my dad playing all those years. A couple memories of my baseball fanataciscm as a kid:
1) While other kids were choosing "Albert Einstein," "Crazy Horse," and "George Washington" in the Hoover Intermediate "Images of Greatness" event, I chose Pedro Gurrerro.
2) With the picture tube dying in the old 27" console, desparately watching a meaningless mid-season game between the Braves and the Dodgers on (then) WTBS through the remaining 2" strip of viewable screen late at night. I was probably about 11 at the time.
What has caught up to me is that major league baseball is the absolute most crappy sport in terms of a screwed up salary system that ruins the chance for any true parity amongst the teams. There's a lot of other things wrong with all professional sports, but ridiculous lack of salary cap makes baseball stand alone. Second, I have discovered that baseball is just boring to watch. Weird, since I actually have such a history with the game and I actually know a lot about it--nuances, strategies, tradition, etc. In fact, the kind of wild thing is that I actually still don't mind checking out results/standings/etc. in the paper. As bad as baseball is in those earlier respects, the intricacies of baseball statistics are amazing.
So where does that leave me? Baseball is screwed up and unwatchable, but box scores still rule.
This is really pretty monumentous for me. Baseball is DEEPLY entrenched in the history of the males in my family, with my granddad being a lifetime manager (& bookie--a Pete Rose ahead of his time, you might say), and my dad playing all those years. A couple memories of my baseball fanataciscm as a kid:
1) While other kids were choosing "Albert Einstein," "Crazy Horse," and "George Washington" in the Hoover Intermediate "Images of Greatness" event, I chose Pedro Gurrerro.
2) With the picture tube dying in the old 27" console, desparately watching a meaningless mid-season game between the Braves and the Dodgers on (then) WTBS through the remaining 2" strip of viewable screen late at night. I was probably about 11 at the time.
What has caught up to me is that major league baseball is the absolute most crappy sport in terms of a screwed up salary system that ruins the chance for any true parity amongst the teams. There's a lot of other things wrong with all professional sports, but ridiculous lack of salary cap makes baseball stand alone. Second, I have discovered that baseball is just boring to watch. Weird, since I actually have such a history with the game and I actually know a lot about it--nuances, strategies, tradition, etc. In fact, the kind of wild thing is that I actually still don't mind checking out results/standings/etc. in the paper. As bad as baseball is in those earlier respects, the intricacies of baseball statistics are amazing.
So where does that leave me? Baseball is screwed up and unwatchable, but box scores still rule.
Thursday, October 21, 2004
Getting Tested, Like they Recommend
I spent the evening last night studying for my test today. Kind of unusual, this notion of getting a test in grad. school. Kind of funny, too, if you think about filing into a big room, having to put everything under your desk, and busting out the engineering pencils to answer multiple-choice questions. Nothing funny about studying, though. That is, except for Lucy's take on it. We kind of forsaw the notion of "Daddy is studying" becoming this mysterious and kind of hated thing, so we wanted to defuse it as much as possible. At this time, studying means she can come over, sit in my lap, grab my pencil, and scribble all over whatever notes or book I have. "Lucy, are you studying?" "Daaaa!" (yes)
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
Faire d'etudie
I took the day off to study yesterday. My class this semester is much more aligned to my GIS interests, as well as being a lot more relavent to my plans, post-graduation. We're still kicking around Capstone ideas (the major project you present for a review board prior to getting out). I've actually ditched my old idea, which had to do with neighborhood redevelopment in Minneapolis, kind of getting the idea that it would get too big & overwhelming, once I dug into it. A couple new ideas I am considering: 1) "'Full-Cycl':e A Cost-Benefit Analysis of Returning North Mississippi Regional Park to a Native State." Pretty self-explanatory, but the idea is that this riverfront part near my house had old activity; anything from old brick factories to an old shantytown in the early 1900s. I'd like to study the various transformations of the land, the relative stresses various units of the land have taken, and how that has influenced how they are working to now return it to a pre-White settlement state. OR 2) "Brain Drain: Creating an Iowa College Graduate 'Trade Area' ". I got the idea from the occasionally mailing I get from the state of Iowa, trying to entice me to move to Des Moines. I don't know who sends that out--the Departmentt of Economic Development? Anyway, I thought it would be interesting to obtain the zip codes from their mailing list and any other information regarding graduates (year of graduation, etc.) and study to where this exodus has occurred. Is the pattern to be expected, or are there surprises? Perhaps there are factors influencing this "rural flight" that might be used to influence the State of Iowa's planning, if indeed they are serious about retaining young adults.
Any thoughts?
Any thoughts?
Monday, October 18, 2004
Fall? Camping at Lake Maria
We camped this last weekend at Lake Maria. What should have been a crisp, lovely experience in Minnesota big woods at the peak of fall color was a freezing, blustery affair as we battled temperatures in the mid-to-low 30s, and wind speeds that must have been constant around 30 miles per hour. Very c-c-c-cold! Factor in the various extra efforts and attention that bringing an 18-month old along requires, and it was definitely not the most relaxing camping experience I've ever had. That said, we woke up to a peaceful (the wind had died down) sunny (if chilly) Sunday morning and the colors were fantastic. And we are building priceless memories for little Lucy. She is apparently hardier than me, most of the time asking for us to take off her mittens (pronounced "mid-ney") so she can use her busy fingers to explore the world around her. She can be endlessly entertained with hide-and-seek in the woods and around the tent. Of course, if you consider our history at Ingawanis, there's no mystery as to who's side of the family THAT comes from...
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