1. It's Dan's theory that one only has time to devote to 10 outside-of-work pursuits. What makes your list? This can be an idealized version of your life (e.g. pursuits in which you are interested but just haven't found the time or ambition to start).
2. What are the last five albums you bought? Are you just kind of buying albums on a whim these days or following any kind of overarching plan-such as exploring a genre or working your way through a backlog of albums you've wanted to buy for some time?
3. Everyone has an issue (at least one)-political or philosophical-that is kind of their personal baby. One on which they feel they have an enlightened view in a greater world that just either doesn't get it or doesn't care. Tell us about it-and attempt to be brief.
4. Prairie, mountains, woods, desert, lake, the sea. Which calls to you the most? Where would you most choose to reside? RANK THEM!
5. Guilty pleasure TV. Is there a show that would be condemned by your peers, but yet you find yourself watching it on a regular basis? Let's hear it.
No limit or minimum of people to tag. Send this to whomever you choose.
I will send this to the only two bloggers with whom I have any regular contact:
Aaron (in this case, just trying to get the fucker posting again in our lifetime)
Pat
My answers:
1. Top ten pursuits (in no particular order):
1. Family time (if I can group daddy-daughter, husband-wife, and whole family all together)
2. Friend time.
3. Movie/DVD/video watching.
4. Music making (including recording & performing)
5. Acting
6. Camping/backpacking
7. Running & general fitness
8. Reading (both for pleasure & to learn)
9. Travel
10. Various computer things-blogging/surfing/etc. Probably the least productive of the list
but reality.
2. Last five albums (most recent first) & "album plan":
1. Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, & Thyme-S&G
2. Led Zepplin II-Led Zepplin
3. The Tide-Lucy Kaplanski
4. 12 Golden Country Greats-Ween
5. The Ox that Pulls the Cart-LJ Booth
I'm in a mixture of exploring some insurgent country & some "acoustic-y" artists who've caught my ear during MPR's morning show, while attempting to make headway on a 10-15 year-old backlog of classic artists, which include S&G, Led Zepplin (see above), Donovan, The Who, & Jimi Hendrix. I'm back on my "album every (two-week) paycheck" schedule.
3. My personal political/philosophical baby. I have so many, I have to touch on two, but I'll try to be brief. #1 Political: People who vote against their best interest (e.g. Republican). Really, really mind-blowing when it comes to putting the interests of corporations above the welfare of human beings. #2 Religious: People, whom I've come to refer to as "philosophical hacks," who interpret their religion in such a way as to make life way more complicated and way less fun for everybody. Boy, that's a diplomatic way to put that.
4. I love 'em all. But here's the ranking:
1. Mountains. (majestic and powerful, stirring the heart of any adventurer-how can you beat
that?)
2. Prairie. (near & dear to my heart, rare, and with a sky that doesn't end)
3. Woods. (varied, mysterious, & teeming with life)
4. Lake. (refreshing, inviting, and no neighbors across the way)
5. Desert. (beautiful, serene, & sublime)
6. The sea (timeless & grand, but a lot closer to others' hearts than my own-I suspect)
5. Guilty pleasure TV:
Actually, I would consider myself pretty prone to this type of behavior, but we really watch so little TV these days that I don't currently have a show that would fit into this category. Years ago (early 90's?), when "Saved by the Bell" was in its first go-round, I often found myself, inexplicably, sitting and watching it. I think it was a combination of my work schedule (getting home right about that time), being exhausted after a day in the warehouse, mixed with a little morbid-"I can't believe how bad this is" curiousity that eventually morphed into some level of genuine interest in the superficial, unbelievable characters, and their insipid goings-on. Again, inexplicable-but I think having a combination of factors like that, leading to similar shameful viewings, is hardly unique in our society.
Monday, August 01, 2005
Thursday, July 28, 2005
A Special 'Thank You' to The Statesman and The Validectorian
Much like Gibbons' visit of a couple of weeks ago, this last few days was both relatively predictable and thoroughly enjoyable. As is often discovered in these get-togethers, not a whole helluva lot changes. We are more aided by technology, and some minor dynamics change (a kind of volatile stage Lucy is working through was taking its toll on momma and I felt a little less free than I expected I might), but the cast of characters remain the same.
To recap...
Things that change:
- Life circumstances of those involved (marriages, children, jobs, places we live, income)
- More history from which to draw obcure references
- We eat better
- We drink higher quality beer
- Technology (e.g. watching episodes on the computer, ordering pizza online, engaging those not there via 'conference call')
Things that remain timeless:
- Buffoonery
- Silliness
- Basketball
- Non-Stop Excitement
Highlights of the long weekend:
- A stellar day of 96 degree frisbee golf, followed by a swim in Silver Lake, followed by football by the lake, followed by another dip in the lake
- Long-awaited TT commentary, which may be actually funnier than we thought it was at the time.
- A way-cool bike ride touring the area from Wirth Parkway to St. Anthony Main.
- High-quality beer.
- Experiencing a wonderful variety of tasteful while still managing to return to pizza for every other meal.
- Having Lucy meet and dig my friends.
Many many other enjoyable things occurred, as they will in nonstop excitement, and I am sure they will be recounted at a later date.
To recap...
Things that change:
- Life circumstances of those involved (marriages, children, jobs, places we live, income)
- More history from which to draw obcure references
- We eat better
- We drink higher quality beer
- Technology (e.g. watching episodes on the computer, ordering pizza online, engaging those not there via 'conference call')
Things that remain timeless:
- Buffoonery
- Silliness
- Basketball
- Non-Stop Excitement
Highlights of the long weekend:
- A stellar day of 96 degree frisbee golf, followed by a swim in Silver Lake, followed by football by the lake, followed by another dip in the lake
- Long-awaited TT commentary, which may be actually funnier than we thought it was at the time.
- A way-cool bike ride touring the area from Wirth Parkway to St. Anthony Main.
- High-quality beer.
- Experiencing a wonderful variety of tasteful while still managing to return to pizza for every other meal.
- Having Lucy meet and dig my friends.
Many many other enjoyable things occurred, as they will in nonstop excitement, and I am sure they will be recounted at a later date.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
As Only I Can Do It (alternately titled "What Was I Thinking?")
There I was, at the beginning of the week, thinking that I'd make sure to go to bed at a reasonable hour during the week, to make sure I have a bit of "sleep capital" accrued before the visit of two friends. Also, I'd make sure to do a pretty deep straightening of the house, & organization of finances prior to the weekend.
Somehow, I found myself with very little of the house cleaning done, sitting on the couch last night at 1:56 am, watching a PBS documentary on the life of Bob Newhart.
Christ.
Somehow, I found myself with very little of the house cleaning done, sitting on the couch last night at 1:56 am, watching a PBS documentary on the life of Bob Newhart.
Christ.
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Hanging on a Weather Vane with My Hand Cut Off
Good God, but when it rains in the world of my finances, it pours. It's an uncanny cycle: I work so hard for so long to gain some vague sense of financial stability, with some concept of a long-term plan to pay off my debts once and for all, when all of a sudden, I am hit from all sides with a string of sudden expenses that make me feel not unlike Luke Skywalker when Darth Vader is flinging all those toasters and iron rods into him in their first confrontation.
Kuña-i is back at her mysterious malady best. She'd inexplicably lost 10 or so pounds in the last couple of months-and we're about $500 into a series of tests and scans that are on the way to revealing something that may end up being a tumor (hard to say where expenses will go from this point). Now, just yesterday, I found out that the motherboard from my computer fried itself (a description from the Geek Squad folks that sounded more like something from "Back to the Future" than a real-life issue-something about capacitors leaking). So, had to invest in a new $500 CPU yesterday. There's been some other, sub-$100, things in the past week that have piled on and made it all worse.
Of course, my computer's been out of commission for about a week, so I've been unable to check Quicken-all these extra expenses have been getting shoveled onto a credit card, so as not to incur an overdraft charge from my bank. Making a lump payment from my bank account to cover a series of credit card expenses "when things get stabilized" is always a lot more difficult in practice than in theory, and I fear that my hopes of being all paid off once and for all my next year's tax return are in some jeopardy.
Oh well, I was planning on a bit of "spare no expense" in the upcoming non-stop excitement get together, and I don't plan to alter that approach. In the end, it is just money-easy come easy go. But God DAMN it, I'm in the midst of some fuckin' "easy go."
Kuña-i is back at her mysterious malady best. She'd inexplicably lost 10 or so pounds in the last couple of months-and we're about $500 into a series of tests and scans that are on the way to revealing something that may end up being a tumor (hard to say where expenses will go from this point). Now, just yesterday, I found out that the motherboard from my computer fried itself (a description from the Geek Squad folks that sounded more like something from "Back to the Future" than a real-life issue-something about capacitors leaking). So, had to invest in a new $500 CPU yesterday. There's been some other, sub-$100, things in the past week that have piled on and made it all worse.
Of course, my computer's been out of commission for about a week, so I've been unable to check Quicken-all these extra expenses have been getting shoveled onto a credit card, so as not to incur an overdraft charge from my bank. Making a lump payment from my bank account to cover a series of credit card expenses "when things get stabilized" is always a lot more difficult in practice than in theory, and I fear that my hopes of being all paid off once and for all my next year's tax return are in some jeopardy.
Oh well, I was planning on a bit of "spare no expense" in the upcoming non-stop excitement get together, and I don't plan to alter that approach. In the end, it is just money-easy come easy go. But God DAMN it, I'm in the midst of some fuckin' "easy go."
Monday, July 18, 2005
The Fever Breaks
Good God, it's been hot. We just finished a string of nine 90 degree+ days in a row, culminating in a 97 degree scorcher yesterday. It's rough for those of us without central air, and a below-average ability to find comfort in temperature extremes.
I had ambitious plans of getting some recording done, as well as some deep cleaning (or, failing that, simply some deep straightening & organizing) prior to the Mixdorf/Levendusky visit. Unfortunately, when the temperature raises to a certain level, all you (or me, as the case may be) are really are motivated to do is just sit around and sweat. I really think that is probably the primary reason behind the slower pace of traditional southern towns, as well as a good probable explaination of how the "fiesta" came to be.
I come from a long line of prodigous sweaters. Sharon can not/will not ever truly understand, as we begin our annual "should the window unit air conditioner be on and, if so, how high should it be set" battles. She asks how I can be so cold in the winter (turn the heat up!) and so hot in the summer. I simply tell her that her body temperature is regulated by her womb, but she doesn't seem to accept that explanation.
We did manage to get out of the house a lot this weekend, though in each case into scorching hot outdoor activities. Among those activities, we made it out to the Minneapolis Log Boom event at the Mississippi River near our house on both days. It was the World Championships for Logrolling and potentially a really cool set of events, but it was spread out along a long stretch of unshaded riverfront land, with nary a cloud in the sky. Nasty, NASTY hot.
Sunday morning I also ran in the "Otter Trotter," a 5-kilometer race along that same stetch of unshaded land. It was at 8:30 am, but it must have already been in the mid-80s by that time. The hottest race I'd ever run, I'd guess. My time was NOT that hot. Unless I do a drastic change in training (and, perhaps diet), my best 5k times may be way behind me. Although I run distances twice what I ever would have dreamed doing back in college, my times in a short race like this are about a minute-a-mile slower. Just a totally different type of training-combined with the fact that I'm carrying about 15-17 extra pounds. Both make a big difference. 1996 Dan would have finished about third or fourth in the event out of 106 runners. 2005 Dan finished 27th.
I had ambitious plans of getting some recording done, as well as some deep cleaning (or, failing that, simply some deep straightening & organizing) prior to the Mixdorf/Levendusky visit. Unfortunately, when the temperature raises to a certain level, all you (or me, as the case may be) are really are motivated to do is just sit around and sweat. I really think that is probably the primary reason behind the slower pace of traditional southern towns, as well as a good probable explaination of how the "fiesta" came to be.
I come from a long line of prodigous sweaters. Sharon can not/will not ever truly understand, as we begin our annual "should the window unit air conditioner be on and, if so, how high should it be set" battles. She asks how I can be so cold in the winter (turn the heat up!) and so hot in the summer. I simply tell her that her body temperature is regulated by her womb, but she doesn't seem to accept that explanation.
We did manage to get out of the house a lot this weekend, though in each case into scorching hot outdoor activities. Among those activities, we made it out to the Minneapolis Log Boom event at the Mississippi River near our house on both days. It was the World Championships for Logrolling and potentially a really cool set of events, but it was spread out along a long stretch of unshaded riverfront land, with nary a cloud in the sky. Nasty, NASTY hot.
Sunday morning I also ran in the "Otter Trotter," a 5-kilometer race along that same stetch of unshaded land. It was at 8:30 am, but it must have already been in the mid-80s by that time. The hottest race I'd ever run, I'd guess. My time was NOT that hot. Unless I do a drastic change in training (and, perhaps diet), my best 5k times may be way behind me. Although I run distances twice what I ever would have dreamed doing back in college, my times in a short race like this are about a minute-a-mile slower. Just a totally different type of training-combined with the fact that I'm carrying about 15-17 extra pounds. Both make a big difference. 1996 Dan would have finished about third or fourth in the event out of 106 runners. 2005 Dan finished 27th.
Friday, July 15, 2005
PrairyErth: The Recommendation
So, I'd been intending to finish the book I'm reading, PrairyErth, before officially recommending it to my closest friends, but I can wait no longer. Truth is, I'm still a little under half-through; it is a slooow read-one I'm tackling almost exlusively on my bus-ride in & back (an event in which I have probably been averaging less than three times a week for the past month). But if slow, to say it is engaging and delicious is to undersell it. I say this now: this is clearly the best work of non-fiction I have ever read, and it's not even close.
I've never read a book quite like it-it is some sort of combination of historical study, geographical study, ethnography, and philosophical exploration. William Least-Heat Moon, the author essentially spends three years exploring every inch of Chase County, Kansas-the county to the south of Council Grove's Morris County. Though many images and characters in the book evoke certain personal feelings, I swear-my personal connection to that part of the country does not play into my opinion of the quality of this book. I dearly wish there were more books of this sort, exploring other counties in the country. But in Chase County (total population probably under 3,000), a place that many people would assume is relative void of anything of interest, Least-Heat Moon explores all these different aspects of place and makes fantastic, mind-blowing connections, telling very human and compelling stories, with a writing that is of as fine a quality as I have ever seen.
I wish for there to be more WLHM's in the world, and I guarantee one of the most enlightening, philisophically and intellectually stimulating reads in which you will ever embark. PLEASE READ THIS BOOK. I don't want to ever finish this book, and probably won't until mid-September, but I beg and plead for you to begin it. (with your psycho reading style, Mixdorf, you might just finish it in consecutive weekends).
Trying to give much more detail about the book would fall short: please read the editorial reviews from Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/product-description/039592569X/ref=dp_nav_1/002-8421614-8365666?%5Fencoding=UTF8&n=507846&s=books
I've never read a book quite like it-it is some sort of combination of historical study, geographical study, ethnography, and philosophical exploration. William Least-Heat Moon, the author essentially spends three years exploring every inch of Chase County, Kansas-the county to the south of Council Grove's Morris County. Though many images and characters in the book evoke certain personal feelings, I swear-my personal connection to that part of the country does not play into my opinion of the quality of this book. I dearly wish there were more books of this sort, exploring other counties in the country. But in Chase County (total population probably under 3,000), a place that many people would assume is relative void of anything of interest, Least-Heat Moon explores all these different aspects of place and makes fantastic, mind-blowing connections, telling very human and compelling stories, with a writing that is of as fine a quality as I have ever seen.
I wish for there to be more WLHM's in the world, and I guarantee one of the most enlightening, philisophically and intellectually stimulating reads in which you will ever embark. PLEASE READ THIS BOOK. I don't want to ever finish this book, and probably won't until mid-September, but I beg and plead for you to begin it. (with your psycho reading style, Mixdorf, you might just finish it in consecutive weekends).
Trying to give much more detail about the book would fall short: please read the editorial reviews from Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/product-description/039592569X/ref=dp_nav_1/002-8421614-8365666?%5Fencoding=UTF8&n=507846&s=books
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Afternoon of N.S.E
Gibbsy Knickerbock is in town for a couple of days and will swing by to pick me up from work at 1:00.
We plan an afternoon of basketball or some other sweaty endeavor (it's been in the 90s and humid for about a week), and then the tossing back of a few & some kind of supper.
Good times are almost ensured.
We plan an afternoon of basketball or some other sweaty endeavor (it's been in the 90s and humid for about a week), and then the tossing back of a few & some kind of supper.
Good times are almost ensured.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
News
Actually, about the news. Just some ruminations a few days following a trip down to Iowa this last weekend. I am always brought up to & beyond speed with respect to the current state of broadcasting after spending a day or two at my parents. The TV, which is perpetually on, is usually tuned to cable news (a type of network which came about more or less, mercifully, after my upbringing in a "cable house") during the majority of the daytime hours, and those vapid, sugar-coated suburbs to the cities of programming: the morning shows (e.g. Good Morning America, the Today Show). Haven't sat and actually watched more than a minute of them for years, but I trust that if there is still a particle of cheese to be extracted from any headline happening worldwide, Katie Couric is still there to interview someone willing to dole it out, the morning after.
Again, the whole phenomenon of the cable news network has pretty much grown to the point it has generally outside the scope of my day to day experience. I am only aware of it through its influence on other areas of our society, including talking points for political discussion. And the growth of the format has seemed to parallel a couple of disturbing trends in journalism. The less disturbing of the two is sensationalism. It is only less disturbing in that the root of the problem is so obvious-quest for ratings and appeal to the least common denominator. It has, nevertheless, convinced me that the amount of cable news (or really, any news) an individual watches is in direct proportion to the amount of skew that person in judging the relative importance of issues in the world. To "Joe Woodbury," where does "shark attacks" fall within the list of the top 10 issues facing society today?
The other, far more insidious, trend is that of either lazy journalism or (worse) advocacy journalism presented as a traditional news broadcast. Indeed, we seem to be moving in a direction where many "journalists" themselves knowingly or otherwise perpetuate a stream of bias and propaganda into their broadcasts. Disappearing fast, it sadly seems, is the purity and sanctity of The 4th Estate.
Again, the whole phenomenon of the cable news network has pretty much grown to the point it has generally outside the scope of my day to day experience. I am only aware of it through its influence on other areas of our society, including talking points for political discussion. And the growth of the format has seemed to parallel a couple of disturbing trends in journalism. The less disturbing of the two is sensationalism. It is only less disturbing in that the root of the problem is so obvious-quest for ratings and appeal to the least common denominator. It has, nevertheless, convinced me that the amount of cable news (or really, any news) an individual watches is in direct proportion to the amount of skew that person in judging the relative importance of issues in the world. To "Joe Woodbury," where does "shark attacks" fall within the list of the top 10 issues facing society today?
The other, far more insidious, trend is that of either lazy journalism or (worse) advocacy journalism presented as a traditional news broadcast. Indeed, we seem to be moving in a direction where many "journalists" themselves knowingly or otherwise perpetuate a stream of bias and propaganda into their broadcasts. Disappearing fast, it sadly seems, is the purity and sanctity of The 4th Estate.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
RoJ Comments Part Deux
1. Luke: What do you remember of your mother?
Leia: Not much, she died when I was very young (YEAH, LIKE 30 SECONDS AFTER
I WAS BORN)
2. So, they got rid of the "jub jub" song from the Ewoks, which was never particularly popular. But did they have to replace it with a something that sounds like some long-haired dude using an acoustic guitar & a series of synthesizer pedals to have a New Age performance in a mall?
3. The Ewoks: not as annoying as I remember.
4. Darth Vader: Remove my mask.
Luke: But you'll die. (WHAT? HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?)
5. Luke built himself a lightsaber? What the fuck? Perhaps "Jedi training" includes a number of technical courses.
6. Strange, the Ewoks were going to EAT the landing party until they were awed byThreepio floating. In the midst of all the revelry at the end, let's not forget that the rebels are celebrating with a bunch of beastly little cannibalistic savages.
7. Actual conversation last night:
Sharon: It would be weird to grow up never really knowing who your father is or that you had
a sister.
Dan: Particuarly so, if your father was Darth Vader.
8. I love the co-pilot alongside Lando-the alien with the groovy orange 70's shirt and vest and the funky laugh.
9. Funny...FUNNY during the Vader-Luke confrontation. The whole scene alternates multiple times between Luke saying, "I won't fight you, father," then fighting him for about 30 seconds. Again and again, "I won't fight you father," then "hack, hack hack, slice." I have a theory that he actually defeats Vader because he blows his mind. His brain, which is perhaps more machine than man at this point, starts just steaming-I'm surprised we don't see white smoke coming out of the side of his helmet as he continues to get these confusing and conflicting messages from his son.
10. How can Vader, who surely has heard once or twice that "there are always two Sith, never more never less" not put two and two together and conceive of the idea that the Emperor is wanting to replace him with Luke? Especially when the confrontation is so similar to the Anakin-Dooku battle he himself was involved in years prior.
11. Likewise-moments ago, the Emperor asked Luke to put an end to the defeated Vader. Considering the Sith are evil and known to usurp one another from time to time, is it really wise for him to take his eyes off Vader as he attacks Vader's son?
12. It would be funny if, after the death of the Emperor, Vader & Luke became the two Sith.
13. I see they replaced the ghost image of the older, bald guy who was supposed to be Anakin with Hayden Christensen in the final scene. I wonder if the bald guy got pissed. Anyway, when did they do that? These movies were re-released long before Revenge of the Sith came out-that was quite a sneak preview into Anakin in his prime.
14. And finally, with respect to the ghost images; why does Anakin get to appear as his 27-year old self, but Obi-Wan has to come back at Alec Guinness' age? Hardly seems fair. Would have been interesting, too, to see Yoda in his prime. Perhaps he once was, like, 5'8" but just shrunk and shrunk over his last 800 years or so.
Leia: Not much, she died when I was very young (YEAH, LIKE 30 SECONDS AFTER
I WAS BORN)
2. So, they got rid of the "jub jub" song from the Ewoks, which was never particularly popular. But did they have to replace it with a something that sounds like some long-haired dude using an acoustic guitar & a series of synthesizer pedals to have a New Age performance in a mall?
3. The Ewoks: not as annoying as I remember.
4. Darth Vader: Remove my mask.
Luke: But you'll die. (WHAT? HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?)
5. Luke built himself a lightsaber? What the fuck? Perhaps "Jedi training" includes a number of technical courses.
6. Strange, the Ewoks were going to EAT the landing party until they were awed byThreepio floating. In the midst of all the revelry at the end, let's not forget that the rebels are celebrating with a bunch of beastly little cannibalistic savages.
7. Actual conversation last night:
Sharon: It would be weird to grow up never really knowing who your father is or that you had
a sister.
Dan: Particuarly so, if your father was Darth Vader.
8. I love the co-pilot alongside Lando-the alien with the groovy orange 70's shirt and vest and the funky laugh.
9. Funny...FUNNY during the Vader-Luke confrontation. The whole scene alternates multiple times between Luke saying, "I won't fight you, father," then fighting him for about 30 seconds. Again and again, "I won't fight you father," then "hack, hack hack, slice." I have a theory that he actually defeats Vader because he blows his mind. His brain, which is perhaps more machine than man at this point, starts just steaming-I'm surprised we don't see white smoke coming out of the side of his helmet as he continues to get these confusing and conflicting messages from his son.
10. How can Vader, who surely has heard once or twice that "there are always two Sith, never more never less" not put two and two together and conceive of the idea that the Emperor is wanting to replace him with Luke? Especially when the confrontation is so similar to the Anakin-Dooku battle he himself was involved in years prior.
11. Likewise-moments ago, the Emperor asked Luke to put an end to the defeated Vader. Considering the Sith are evil and known to usurp one another from time to time, is it really wise for him to take his eyes off Vader as he attacks Vader's son?
12. It would be funny if, after the death of the Emperor, Vader & Luke became the two Sith.
13. I see they replaced the ghost image of the older, bald guy who was supposed to be Anakin with Hayden Christensen in the final scene. I wonder if the bald guy got pissed. Anyway, when did they do that? These movies were re-released long before Revenge of the Sith came out-that was quite a sneak preview into Anakin in his prime.
14. And finally, with respect to the ghost images; why does Anakin get to appear as his 27-year old self, but Obi-Wan has to come back at Alec Guinness' age? Hardly seems fair. Would have been interesting, too, to see Yoda in his prime. Perhaps he once was, like, 5'8" but just shrunk and shrunk over his last 800 years or so.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
RoJ
So, in our viewing of the full 6 episodes in chronological order, we are currently up to Return of the Jedi-and at a point about halfway through. So far, I would have to say that it is the worst of all six in terms of everything from plot & development to amount of cheese. That said, I realize that we have yet to see what I consider to be a wonderful piece of cinematic work, which is the rag-tag fugitive fleet's attack on the 2nd Death Star (the whole-"it's a trap" sequence).
A few ruminations from what we saw last night:
1. Sharon noticed a few places where it seemed like there was CG animation on some of the added scenes for the latest release. I thought that all the added scenes were originally made and just offered now as sort of a "director's cut." One that comes to mind now is that extended (and very lame) musical performance in Jabba's palace by that pot-bellied thing with the lips on the end of its snout. It just screamed "Pixar."
2. What purpose did it possibly serve for Leia to bring Chewbacca in as a fake prisoner? If the whole point was about gaining admittance to the facility, why doesn't she just do what Lando did. Somehow, inexplicably, he got in and is just lurking around in the background for the first few scenes. Following that exchange, she then had two rescues to perform, rather than one. That requires a lot of explanation, unless we are to assume it was the most boneheaded plan in the history of the Republic.
3. Not paving any new ground here, but what an incredibly underwhelming end to Boba Fett. No veneange for that supposedly monumental scene where, as a child, he sees his father killed by a Jedi. No successful use of all his gadgets. Just "whump" and down in the pit (unless we are to believe that he activated his rocket from the pit and escaped when we weren't looking).
4. Many things that seem to require some sort of explanation in Luke's visit to the palace. First, why did he not devise a plan with Leia ahead of time? Second, why did he send R2-D2 into the palace with his lightsaber and enter it himself, later, unarmed? Everything we see from the Jedis in episodes I-III give you every reason to believe he could have gone in there with his lightsaber, defeated everyone within the place with one hand tied behind his back, and walked out with Han. This should be no problem at all for the Son of the Chosen One!
5. When C-3PO says, "Master, you're standing on..." wouldn't a person of reasonable intelligence assume the intent of the phrase was to warn him. Perhaps even to warn him that he was standing on something away from which he should move? Not so easy a piece logic, it appears, for the Son of the Chosen One.
6. Why not use a mind-trick on the Rancor?
7. For that matter, why not use a mind trick (or Jedi reflexes and some hand-to-hand combat-or some telekinisis, for God's sake!) on any one of the guards coming to get him out of the Rancor pit. Or on any of the guards that are with him out on the execution skiff.
8. Not to be undone in the stupidity department, they leave Luke's arms free during the attempted execution, so that he can conveniently do his diving-board trick. They leave his arms free! A Jedi knight! Sheesh!
9. Again, probably not paving any new ground here, but Good Lord, Luke doesn't look nearly as coordinated, limber, or artistic as all the other Jedis we see in his use of the elegant light saber. He's just hacking around like a blindfolded 5-year old going after a Star Wars pinata. They're not clean kills at all. Everyone he slices is still alive enough to scream as they fall off the skiff.
10. What the hell happened to the whole Jedi ethic thing? His friends are safely aboard the skiff. Jabba is dead. Escape is theirs, but as a final "fuck you," he finds it necessary to instruct Leia to fire a cannon onto Jabba's yaht, causing it to explode and destroy any who might have happened to survive the earlier hoopla.
A few ruminations from what we saw last night:
1. Sharon noticed a few places where it seemed like there was CG animation on some of the added scenes for the latest release. I thought that all the added scenes were originally made and just offered now as sort of a "director's cut." One that comes to mind now is that extended (and very lame) musical performance in Jabba's palace by that pot-bellied thing with the lips on the end of its snout. It just screamed "Pixar."
2. What purpose did it possibly serve for Leia to bring Chewbacca in as a fake prisoner? If the whole point was about gaining admittance to the facility, why doesn't she just do what Lando did. Somehow, inexplicably, he got in and is just lurking around in the background for the first few scenes. Following that exchange, she then had two rescues to perform, rather than one. That requires a lot of explanation, unless we are to assume it was the most boneheaded plan in the history of the Republic.
3. Not paving any new ground here, but what an incredibly underwhelming end to Boba Fett. No veneange for that supposedly monumental scene where, as a child, he sees his father killed by a Jedi. No successful use of all his gadgets. Just "whump" and down in the pit (unless we are to believe that he activated his rocket from the pit and escaped when we weren't looking).
4. Many things that seem to require some sort of explanation in Luke's visit to the palace. First, why did he not devise a plan with Leia ahead of time? Second, why did he send R2-D2 into the palace with his lightsaber and enter it himself, later, unarmed? Everything we see from the Jedis in episodes I-III give you every reason to believe he could have gone in there with his lightsaber, defeated everyone within the place with one hand tied behind his back, and walked out with Han. This should be no problem at all for the Son of the Chosen One!
5. When C-3PO says, "Master, you're standing on..." wouldn't a person of reasonable intelligence assume the intent of the phrase was to warn him. Perhaps even to warn him that he was standing on something away from which he should move? Not so easy a piece logic, it appears, for the Son of the Chosen One.
6. Why not use a mind-trick on the Rancor?
7. For that matter, why not use a mind trick (or Jedi reflexes and some hand-to-hand combat-or some telekinisis, for God's sake!) on any one of the guards coming to get him out of the Rancor pit. Or on any of the guards that are with him out on the execution skiff.
8. Not to be undone in the stupidity department, they leave Luke's arms free during the attempted execution, so that he can conveniently do his diving-board trick. They leave his arms free! A Jedi knight! Sheesh!
9. Again, probably not paving any new ground here, but Good Lord, Luke doesn't look nearly as coordinated, limber, or artistic as all the other Jedis we see in his use of the elegant light saber. He's just hacking around like a blindfolded 5-year old going after a Star Wars pinata. They're not clean kills at all. Everyone he slices is still alive enough to scream as they fall off the skiff.
10. What the hell happened to the whole Jedi ethic thing? His friends are safely aboard the skiff. Jabba is dead. Escape is theirs, but as a final "fuck you," he finds it necessary to instruct Leia to fire a cannon onto Jabba's yaht, causing it to explode and destroy any who might have happened to survive the earlier hoopla.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Ah, The Cramps, My Old Friend. We Meet Again.
Well, I planned to run like a combination of 50% Roger Bannister and 50% Louis Pasteur, but I finished it like 100% Juggernaut.
I elected not to make a bannana holster (not like it sounds or otherwise), and moments before beginning the race I ditched both my water belt and shirt. I decided to run like I used to in the good old days, stripped down & free. I think it was the right choice and, regardless of how this post may look a little farther down, I'm really happy with how I ran. I sort of had some minor goals of beating my 2003 time, beating three hours, and finishing running strong; none of which I achieved, but I think my underlying hope was just that my "in-shapeness" was in the same universe as it was in my previous 25Ks and that I could finish the race and not embarass myself. Both of those goals were achieved, and I feel that my insane <4 week training theory was more or less validated.
Of all my theories, the ones I did employ were walking up the big hills and eating a section of bannana at each of the aid stations-both of which were aimed primarily as a means by which to stave off my old friend, The Cramps. It's something I'd really like to talk to a doctor about someday-is it possible I'm just a really easy cramper? I have had runs in which I feel like I have an awful lot of leg strength left (namely, the marathon, and my three 25Ks), but I end up cramping. It is immensely frustrating. Perhaps in this case I could attribute it to not having a long enough conditioning program-and maybe I am a bit chronically dehydrated, but I'd like to find out for sure. Cause it took my theory from being New England Journal of Medicine-worthy to merely being "maybe on to something." I was actually quite pleased at how relatively comfortable the run was through the first couple of hours. The miles just rolled away-and (perhaps as a result of beginning the race with the "walk-the-insane-hills theory") I have to say it was much, much easier than the first time I ran the race, two years ago. It was somewhere between miles 11 and 12, having just summited a particularly long & steep climb, when I felt the first little *ping* in my calf. Oof-that wasn't going to begin now, was it? I adjusted my stride a little, to have my feet come more straight down, and to not push off so hard at the top of little minor hills, and actually managed to not feel anything of that sort again until well over mile 13. It was at that point when I was struck again-big cramps this time, one in each calf on two successive steps (quite a co-incidence, in retrospect)-*PING!, PING* Argh! It actually made me stumble and almost fall. From that point on, I was back in a familiar savage ballet, constantly adjusting my stride and speed much like Data adjusting resonant shield frequency in order to ward off a series of random frequency phaser blasts. I found that I had no problem running downhill so, with the amazing amount of energy I actually still had, I would just fly down the hills, trying to make up for lost time I was currently losing during the uphill walks and would be eventually losing on straightaway walks. The cramps got more frequent and more serious-often striking me when I had a little stumble and was forced to land in a way I had not intended (a frequent occurrence, as you're running through thigh-high grass during a pretty big stretch near the end, plus with all the roots & rocks & such). I (predictably) eventually lost the ability to run along even flat surfaces without seizing up, and when I eventually crossed the finish line, I fear I was the very pitiful sight I had hoped I would not be.
Again, though, it was all about the cramps. I've had many, many much shorter runs where I just wanted to collapse at the end. Here, I picked up my medal, walked on over to my car, and drove on home. I was even able to mow the lawn later in the day.
My time? 3:01 and something. I did have a great time during most of the run, and I do love trail running, and I'll do it again.
I elected not to make a bannana holster (not like it sounds or otherwise), and moments before beginning the race I ditched both my water belt and shirt. I decided to run like I used to in the good old days, stripped down & free. I think it was the right choice and, regardless of how this post may look a little farther down, I'm really happy with how I ran. I sort of had some minor goals of beating my 2003 time, beating three hours, and finishing running strong; none of which I achieved, but I think my underlying hope was just that my "in-shapeness" was in the same universe as it was in my previous 25Ks and that I could finish the race and not embarass myself. Both of those goals were achieved, and I feel that my insane <4 week training theory was more or less validated.
Of all my theories, the ones I did employ were walking up the big hills and eating a section of bannana at each of the aid stations-both of which were aimed primarily as a means by which to stave off my old friend, The Cramps. It's something I'd really like to talk to a doctor about someday-is it possible I'm just a really easy cramper? I have had runs in which I feel like I have an awful lot of leg strength left (namely, the marathon, and my three 25Ks), but I end up cramping. It is immensely frustrating. Perhaps in this case I could attribute it to not having a long enough conditioning program-and maybe I am a bit chronically dehydrated, but I'd like to find out for sure. Cause it took my theory from being New England Journal of Medicine-worthy to merely being "maybe on to something." I was actually quite pleased at how relatively comfortable the run was through the first couple of hours. The miles just rolled away-and (perhaps as a result of beginning the race with the "walk-the-insane-hills theory") I have to say it was much, much easier than the first time I ran the race, two years ago. It was somewhere between miles 11 and 12, having just summited a particularly long & steep climb, when I felt the first little *ping* in my calf. Oof-that wasn't going to begin now, was it? I adjusted my stride a little, to have my feet come more straight down, and to not push off so hard at the top of little minor hills, and actually managed to not feel anything of that sort again until well over mile 13. It was at that point when I was struck again-big cramps this time, one in each calf on two successive steps (quite a co-incidence, in retrospect)-*PING!, PING* Argh! It actually made me stumble and almost fall. From that point on, I was back in a familiar savage ballet, constantly adjusting my stride and speed much like Data adjusting resonant shield frequency in order to ward off a series of random frequency phaser blasts. I found that I had no problem running downhill so, with the amazing amount of energy I actually still had, I would just fly down the hills, trying to make up for lost time I was currently losing during the uphill walks and would be eventually losing on straightaway walks. The cramps got more frequent and more serious-often striking me when I had a little stumble and was forced to land in a way I had not intended (a frequent occurrence, as you're running through thigh-high grass during a pretty big stretch near the end, plus with all the roots & rocks & such). I (predictably) eventually lost the ability to run along even flat surfaces without seizing up, and when I eventually crossed the finish line, I fear I was the very pitiful sight I had hoped I would not be.
Again, though, it was all about the cramps. I've had many, many much shorter runs where I just wanted to collapse at the end. Here, I picked up my medal, walked on over to my car, and drove on home. I was even able to mow the lawn later in the day.
My time? 3:01 and something. I did have a great time during most of the run, and I do love trail running, and I'll do it again.
Friday, July 01, 2005
LIke a Cross Between Louis Pasteur and Roger Bannister
So will I approach my race tomorrow with equal parts science and training.
I'll put the condensed, intense training schedule to the test, of course-but I'm also going to be really working hard to incorporate some planning & science into my performance:
- The concept of "negative splits" (in a nutshell, starting out more slowly than my body tells me I should with the idea I will more than make up for it with more energy later on).
- Actual prescribed (not specifically for me, but for millions in an issue of "Runner's World") pre-race-day and race-day menus.
- Walking the biggest, steepest climbs to ward off cramps.
- Taking smaller steps when climbing hills (which I've always done), but also in going down hills, which I've recently read zaps your energy more than you realize. Sounds kind of obvious, but when you're out there running, you really want to fly down those hills.
- Better pre-race hydrating.
- Actually creating a "bannana holster" out of duct tape and affixing it to my water bottle belt. I will keep a fresh bannana there and, God willing, it will still be in condition to eat at around mile 10.
In the end-it will be a lot about guts and the work I've put into up to this point, but I'm interested to see if any of these other "edges" translate to any discernable benefit out on the trail. I'm excited, a little nervous, and also hoping that following the race, I'm in condition to care for my daughter for the remainder of the weekend (Sharon's working all three days).
I'll put the condensed, intense training schedule to the test, of course-but I'm also going to be really working hard to incorporate some planning & science into my performance:
- The concept of "negative splits" (in a nutshell, starting out more slowly than my body tells me I should with the idea I will more than make up for it with more energy later on).
- Actual prescribed (not specifically for me, but for millions in an issue of "Runner's World") pre-race-day and race-day menus.
- Walking the biggest, steepest climbs to ward off cramps.
- Taking smaller steps when climbing hills (which I've always done), but also in going down hills, which I've recently read zaps your energy more than you realize. Sounds kind of obvious, but when you're out there running, you really want to fly down those hills.
- Better pre-race hydrating.
- Actually creating a "bannana holster" out of duct tape and affixing it to my water bottle belt. I will keep a fresh bannana there and, God willing, it will still be in condition to eat at around mile 10.
In the end-it will be a lot about guts and the work I've put into up to this point, but I'm interested to see if any of these other "edges" translate to any discernable benefit out on the trail. I'm excited, a little nervous, and also hoping that following the race, I'm in condition to care for my daughter for the remainder of the weekend (Sharon's working all three days).
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Mark My Words...
But you know that story that's come out about this new Iranian President potentially being a former captor during the Iran hostage crisis?
There's something real fishy about the emergence of it.
Pretty funny timing, pretty darn coincidental, and a pretty good darn way to get the US populace, with flagging support for anti-Arab military action, all whipped up again.
There is more to this story than meets the eye.
There's something real fishy about the emergence of it.
Pretty funny timing, pretty darn coincidental, and a pretty good darn way to get the US populace, with flagging support for anti-Arab military action, all whipped up again.
There is more to this story than meets the eye.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Back on the Wagon
Upon further consideration of the rapid improvement of my per-mile time (decreasing by 30 seconds per mile on a seven-mile run over each of the first three weeks of the training), coupled with consideration of how much hard work I've put in during this intense (albeit brief) training stint, I have decided to give it a shot. The race, that is.
It was last Thursday, right before my most recent sevent-miler, when I discovered that Sharon & Lucy would not be able to attend the race. I think that took a lot of wind out of my sails-I really like it when they can be there. I understand the whole concept of running for yourself, but that's what training is all about. Besides, I had my fill of that angle when I did the marathon while Sharon was in South America. These days, it's really nice to have support during the run.
Nevertheless, I'll lace 'em up next Saturday. I got a taste of things to come this last weekend, as I tried to put myself through as grueling a preparation day as possible, while not destroying myself a week before the actual event. On a humid day with temperatures between 90 and 95 I took to the trails at French Regional Park, and ran for just over two hours. Running on any trails as preparation for trail running is better than nothing; you are constantly going up and down hills (often without even being aware of it), you are conditioning your arches, and you're working thigh muscles by high-stepping it over grasses. It is no Afton, but French does have some hills-in particular one actually named "Challenge Hill." It is a monster, and by the time my run was done I had taken it four times; the last time very slowly with my body soaked in sweat, my tongue lolling out, and my arms hanging nearly useless at my side like those of a T-Rex.
The totally running time was nearly an hour less than it will be Saturday, but I ran the entire course (where on Saturday I will walk the biggest hills), and the temps were insane (where on Saturday I will be running at 7:00 am). Knock on wood-perhaps the experiment will prove to be a success, after all...
It was last Thursday, right before my most recent sevent-miler, when I discovered that Sharon & Lucy would not be able to attend the race. I think that took a lot of wind out of my sails-I really like it when they can be there. I understand the whole concept of running for yourself, but that's what training is all about. Besides, I had my fill of that angle when I did the marathon while Sharon was in South America. These days, it's really nice to have support during the run.
Nevertheless, I'll lace 'em up next Saturday. I got a taste of things to come this last weekend, as I tried to put myself through as grueling a preparation day as possible, while not destroying myself a week before the actual event. On a humid day with temperatures between 90 and 95 I took to the trails at French Regional Park, and ran for just over two hours. Running on any trails as preparation for trail running is better than nothing; you are constantly going up and down hills (often without even being aware of it), you are conditioning your arches, and you're working thigh muscles by high-stepping it over grasses. It is no Afton, but French does have some hills-in particular one actually named "Challenge Hill." It is a monster, and by the time my run was done I had taken it four times; the last time very slowly with my body soaked in sweat, my tongue lolling out, and my arms hanging nearly useless at my side like those of a T-Rex.
The totally running time was nearly an hour less than it will be Saturday, but I ran the entire course (where on Saturday I will walk the biggest hills), and the temps were insane (where on Saturday I will be running at 7:00 am). Knock on wood-perhaps the experiment will prove to be a success, after all...
Friday, June 24, 2005
Experiment Complete and Insane Heat
Well-my experiment was to see if I could squeeze 12 weeks of training into slightly less than four weeks and the results are in: I can't. My 7-mile run times went from 1:11 to 1:08 to 1:04 in consecutive weeks, which is nothing to sneeze at, but which is also slightly worse than the per-mile time I ran in my last (13.1 mile) half marathon. That was two years ago, a week before my last Afton Trail Run, during which I had major cramp problems. It just doesn't seem like I'm on track to being able to do this race the way it needs to be done. Not totally closing the door yet-if I knocked another 3-4 minutes off that 7-mile pace in the next week...who knows...
Yesterday I took the day off and worked hard pretty much the whole day. It was 95 degrees, and I took on two of the hottest possible jobs I possibly could have. The first was lining the insulated interior walls of my attic with plastic sheeting. Later, I started a fire and burned all the extra woody plants, sticks, and old removed brush remnants that can't be composted. It burned huge & hot. It was so hot, in fact, that this morning when I removed the lid, there were still orange embers (about 16 hours after the snuffer had gone on).
Normally, we use sticks & stuff that fall from our trees as kindling in our patio fireplace, but we really had an excess of material here. Our two options were either to bundle it and have it out for trash day or to burn it. Here's a good question for the assembled: which is the more environmentally responsible alternative, burning sticks or having them go to a landfill?
Yesterday I took the day off and worked hard pretty much the whole day. It was 95 degrees, and I took on two of the hottest possible jobs I possibly could have. The first was lining the insulated interior walls of my attic with plastic sheeting. Later, I started a fire and burned all the extra woody plants, sticks, and old removed brush remnants that can't be composted. It burned huge & hot. It was so hot, in fact, that this morning when I removed the lid, there were still orange embers (about 16 hours after the snuffer had gone on).
Normally, we use sticks & stuff that fall from our trees as kindling in our patio fireplace, but we really had an excess of material here. Our two options were either to bundle it and have it out for trash day or to burn it. Here's a good question for the assembled: which is the more environmentally responsible alternative, burning sticks or having them go to a landfill?
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
A Switcheroo in the Works?
I have been leaning Zephyr and Sharon has been leaning Minneapolis (actually, to be more accurate, she's been leaning only towards not rushing into anything).
With all the energy focused on cracking to code on this issue, one of the primary ways for me to process my observations & experiences these days has been to view them in light of "things I love/things I hate" about my neighborhood & my city. With the exception of the amazing trails and the coffee shop (and, to some extent, the diversity) things to hate about my neighborhood have been piling on like a defensive front line on 39-year old Dan Marino. But things to love about the city, and my city in particular, continue to accrue like pictures of Orlando Bloom in teen magazines. Perhaps the only thing I know for sure is that I'm done, done, done with my neighborhood. From unidentified teens cutting through our yard in the middle of the night and leaving our gates open to roaring/booming/speeding cars, to the neverending chain of loud, annoying ice cream trucks that parade through our neighborhood to prey upon families that neither understand nor care about nutrional basics, I feel I've had it.
But, in continuing my background work surrounding the whole relocation issue, I've started to identify a couple (and believe me, there's only a couple) of neighborhoods in the city that might be somewhere we could be happy, that still have a few properties within our price range. You see, in our search for a place to live among peers, this sad reality has become evident: Our peers all have far more money than us. It's one of those great mysteries of life: How the "liberal elite" got so damned wealthy. They should all be working as teachers, social workers, and coordinators at nonprofit organizations. Instead, they must be Head of Acquisitions for the Walker Museum or on the Board of Directors for the Minnesota Zoo. The one eqaulizer of sorts is that we will have around $90,000 of equity to put into any purchase-but we're still on the outside looking in with respect to those "No War in Iraq" sorts of neighborhoods with coops, coffeeshops, active neighborhood organizations, and surrounded by green space. A lot to ask for-but we're still looking for our next move to be our last. One place I'm sort of looking right now: Bryn Mawr. Just west of Downtown, at the northern end of the chain of lakes (though across 394), nearly surrounded by greenspace with Bryn Mawr Meadows, Basset Creek, the Cedar Lake Trail, and Theodore Wirth Park, as well as a really progressive, sort of artistic demographic makeup. http://www.bmna.org
With all the energy focused on cracking to code on this issue, one of the primary ways for me to process my observations & experiences these days has been to view them in light of "things I love/things I hate" about my neighborhood & my city. With the exception of the amazing trails and the coffee shop (and, to some extent, the diversity) things to hate about my neighborhood have been piling on like a defensive front line on 39-year old Dan Marino. But things to love about the city, and my city in particular, continue to accrue like pictures of Orlando Bloom in teen magazines. Perhaps the only thing I know for sure is that I'm done, done, done with my neighborhood. From unidentified teens cutting through our yard in the middle of the night and leaving our gates open to roaring/booming/speeding cars, to the neverending chain of loud, annoying ice cream trucks that parade through our neighborhood to prey upon families that neither understand nor care about nutrional basics, I feel I've had it.
But, in continuing my background work surrounding the whole relocation issue, I've started to identify a couple (and believe me, there's only a couple) of neighborhoods in the city that might be somewhere we could be happy, that still have a few properties within our price range. You see, in our search for a place to live among peers, this sad reality has become evident: Our peers all have far more money than us. It's one of those great mysteries of life: How the "liberal elite" got so damned wealthy. They should all be working as teachers, social workers, and coordinators at nonprofit organizations. Instead, they must be Head of Acquisitions for the Walker Museum or on the Board of Directors for the Minnesota Zoo. The one eqaulizer of sorts is that we will have around $90,000 of equity to put into any purchase-but we're still on the outside looking in with respect to those "No War in Iraq" sorts of neighborhoods with coops, coffeeshops, active neighborhood organizations, and surrounded by green space. A lot to ask for-but we're still looking for our next move to be our last. One place I'm sort of looking right now: Bryn Mawr. Just west of Downtown, at the northern end of the chain of lakes (though across 394), nearly surrounded by greenspace with Bryn Mawr Meadows, Basset Creek, the Cedar Lake Trail, and Theodore Wirth Park, as well as a really progressive, sort of artistic demographic makeup. http://www.bmna.org
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Pilseners & Such
As every one (with emphasis on the "one") of my readers may be aware, I am a Pilsener guy. I'll drink anything, and enjoy most of it, but at the end of the day, I'll take a good ol' golden that goes down smooth. Much of the low-quality macro-brew variety fit into this category, and I actually find them more enjoyable than one would expect, but I am just starting to try and delve into some more upscale brews of this variety.
An interesting website: www.beeradvocate.com. The creators are two guys from Massachussets who've reviewed an enormous amount of beers. The membership of the forum are generally superserious drinkers, and quite harsh critics of beers from the most common to the most rare. It is rare for any beer to end with a consensus of > four on a five-point scale for ratings (and the site even gives you standard deviations from the norm as part of the rating rollup). I had registered, once upon a time (I thought), and logged a few reviews, but my registry seems to have disappeared. I registered again and have thought that it might be a good way for me to preserve my "research" for some posterity, and for some painless method of being able to look back and reference what I thought about different beers, if I forget down the line.
For Father's Day, Sharon bought me Pilsener Urquell, which touts itself as the "world's first pilsener," invented in Czechoslovakia (sp?). According to some reviews of the beer (which were solid but not outstanding), it is "the best non-Belgian pils," which would seem to direct me towards NW Europe for my future direction of exploration in this realm. For my part, I like the Urquell, though I do not have an experienced-enough pallette to break the beer down into a review like "Lively nose, pretty, floral, lightly spicy dandy, with a dash of honey. Neat hops on the tongue, with a long, welcome stay on the palate. Light bodied, dry, hoppy finish. Satisfying sweet hop taste that ends in a soft and silky dry bitter aftertaste." Not sure if those reviews are something I will be capable of someday, or if they're total bullshit.
Anyway, BeerAdvocate is an interesting site-one to which I would recommend a membership. Perhaps we can compare notes down the line. Favorite beers (both style and specific beer), anyone?
An interesting website: www.beeradvocate.com. The creators are two guys from Massachussets who've reviewed an enormous amount of beers. The membership of the forum are generally superserious drinkers, and quite harsh critics of beers from the most common to the most rare. It is rare for any beer to end with a consensus of > four on a five-point scale for ratings (and the site even gives you standard deviations from the norm as part of the rating rollup). I had registered, once upon a time (I thought), and logged a few reviews, but my registry seems to have disappeared. I registered again and have thought that it might be a good way for me to preserve my "research" for some posterity, and for some painless method of being able to look back and reference what I thought about different beers, if I forget down the line.
For Father's Day, Sharon bought me Pilsener Urquell, which touts itself as the "world's first pilsener," invented in Czechoslovakia (sp?). According to some reviews of the beer (which were solid but not outstanding), it is "the best non-Belgian pils," which would seem to direct me towards NW Europe for my future direction of exploration in this realm. For my part, I like the Urquell, though I do not have an experienced-enough pallette to break the beer down into a review like "Lively nose, pretty, floral, lightly spicy dandy, with a dash of honey. Neat hops on the tongue, with a long, welcome stay on the palate. Light bodied, dry, hoppy finish. Satisfying sweet hop taste that ends in a soft and silky dry bitter aftertaste." Not sure if those reviews are something I will be capable of someday, or if they're total bullshit.
Anyway, BeerAdvocate is an interesting site-one to which I would recommend a membership. Perhaps we can compare notes down the line. Favorite beers (both style and specific beer), anyone?
Monday, June 20, 2005
Action-Packed Weekend, As Always
Saturday was a daddy-daughter day, as Sharon was working "Carp-Fest" up at the Coon Rapids Dam. Lucy & I had a leisurely stop at the coffeeshop, then headed on up to check out the fest. It went well, until she saw momma there and realized that she was only going to get to see her for a few minutes. There was a major flip-out which put an immediate damper on our experience and pretty much facilitated a trip to the parking lot. The blowout was of such intensity and length that Lucy fell asleep in the car within five minutes of leaving the lot. Once we got home, the rest of the day was fun & joyous. There was some watching of the WNBA over a burrito lunch, a hike, a monkey bath (kitchen sink bath), some housecleaning, and a sleepless hour of "down-time" upstairs with much laughing & hugging. Lucy is starting to get a lot more physical (in a good way) in her interactions-climbing on me, bouncing on me, etc., which brings me no end of joy.
Sunday, Father's Day, was a good day, as well. We started with an Old Country Breakfast-although I ate well and much, my days of patronizing that place may be nearing the end. Partly because the converging lines on the graph of my quantity-quality food index may have just crossed one another, but also because (as a vegetarian), I can only eat so much yellow food in one sitting. When I walk out the front door of that place, I feel like I could shit cubes of starch. Also-I have begun to feel just a bit out of place-when I look around the establishment when we're there (once or twice a year), I realize that you could cram about six of me in the ass of any other given patron of the place. I'm reminded of the thing that foreign tourists remark as the most notable thing about Americans after visits to our country, and I guess I've just started to get a little sensitive to issues of overconsumption in any form. For me, the food was good fuel, though, as our plan for the day involved going up to the 5,000+ acre Elm Creek Park Preserve (where Sharon normally works) and having Sharon & Lucy play on the playground and at the beach while I ran myself silly on the trails. It was a hot day-87 degrees, with not a cloud in the sky-and I started out at 12:30 pm-for some running in the hottest part of the day. A sort of necessary masochistic training day for my upcoming race at Afton. No matter what I do, I cannot adequately prepare for that insane day in the time I have before me, but yesterday was about as good as I can do. Running on dirt or wood chips is not all that different than running on asphalt. Running through sporadically mowed grass or other vegetation, especially over the course of many miles, is an entirely different experience. Muscles I call the "high-steppers" get a unique, burning workout, and you realize why it is that after all your training it is still possible to get cramps on race day. I think there was actually more of that type of running yesterday than I will see at Afton but, of course, far fewer and less steep hills. It was a hot, exhausting, and brutally fun workout, nevertheless. I have no idea how far it was, but it was nearly two hours long. I'm thinking (due to the heat and my numerous stops to check my small, sweaty, disintegrating map) I covered not more than 11 miles before treatign myself to a plunge into the swimming pond.
Prior to that run, I had only just recovered from my bike/run day on Thursday, and I seem to be perpetually exhausted. Perhaps that is the price for my condensed, intense training schedule. Due to only having a total of four weeks of training, it's going to be a fine, fine line between the traditional multi-day pre-race "taper" and getting in the maximum amount of workout days. Still not sure how that will work-but it would be nice to actually feel rested and recouperated for the race itself.
Weird, though, that I've been feeling sleep-deprived, also, although my sleeping schedule is no worse than usual, and probably better. I've been so exhausted the last number of nights that I've not had the energy to record, do Quicken, or even take care of simple tasks past 8 pm. I've only had the energy to pop in Fellowship of the Ring and watch in segments before nodding off. I made it to just before Frodo left Hobbiton Friday night, to Amon Sul the next night, and to "Legolas, get them up" last night. Just plain exhausted. Connexion between that & my running? That would be weird...
Sunday, Father's Day, was a good day, as well. We started with an Old Country Breakfast-although I ate well and much, my days of patronizing that place may be nearing the end. Partly because the converging lines on the graph of my quantity-quality food index may have just crossed one another, but also because (as a vegetarian), I can only eat so much yellow food in one sitting. When I walk out the front door of that place, I feel like I could shit cubes of starch. Also-I have begun to feel just a bit out of place-when I look around the establishment when we're there (once or twice a year), I realize that you could cram about six of me in the ass of any other given patron of the place. I'm reminded of the thing that foreign tourists remark as the most notable thing about Americans after visits to our country, and I guess I've just started to get a little sensitive to issues of overconsumption in any form. For me, the food was good fuel, though, as our plan for the day involved going up to the 5,000+ acre Elm Creek Park Preserve (where Sharon normally works) and having Sharon & Lucy play on the playground and at the beach while I ran myself silly on the trails. It was a hot day-87 degrees, with not a cloud in the sky-and I started out at 12:30 pm-for some running in the hottest part of the day. A sort of necessary masochistic training day for my upcoming race at Afton. No matter what I do, I cannot adequately prepare for that insane day in the time I have before me, but yesterday was about as good as I can do. Running on dirt or wood chips is not all that different than running on asphalt. Running through sporadically mowed grass or other vegetation, especially over the course of many miles, is an entirely different experience. Muscles I call the "high-steppers" get a unique, burning workout, and you realize why it is that after all your training it is still possible to get cramps on race day. I think there was actually more of that type of running yesterday than I will see at Afton but, of course, far fewer and less steep hills. It was a hot, exhausting, and brutally fun workout, nevertheless. I have no idea how far it was, but it was nearly two hours long. I'm thinking (due to the heat and my numerous stops to check my small, sweaty, disintegrating map) I covered not more than 11 miles before treatign myself to a plunge into the swimming pond.
Prior to that run, I had only just recovered from my bike/run day on Thursday, and I seem to be perpetually exhausted. Perhaps that is the price for my condensed, intense training schedule. Due to only having a total of four weeks of training, it's going to be a fine, fine line between the traditional multi-day pre-race "taper" and getting in the maximum amount of workout days. Still not sure how that will work-but it would be nice to actually feel rested and recouperated for the race itself.
Weird, though, that I've been feeling sleep-deprived, also, although my sleeping schedule is no worse than usual, and probably better. I've been so exhausted the last number of nights that I've not had the energy to record, do Quicken, or even take care of simple tasks past 8 pm. I've only had the energy to pop in Fellowship of the Ring and watch in segments before nodding off. I made it to just before Frodo left Hobbiton Friday night, to Amon Sul the next night, and to "Legolas, get them up" last night. Just plain exhausted. Connexion between that & my running? That would be weird...
Friday, June 17, 2005
O Beautiful Day, Haute Couture, Redd Foxx, and Wiped!
Had the latest in the Dan Hylton Summer Thursday Series (burning through some of the tons of vacation time I accrued over the last number of months on consecutive Thursdays) yesterday. Sharon's mom watched Lucy while we biked into downtown to explore St. Anthony Main and the Riverfront District.
Clouds and rain, or at least skies that threaten rain, have dominated the past two months in Minnesota. Yesterday, however, was the first in what looks like about week's worth of cloudless, sunny skies that we are in for. The timing couldn't have been more perfect for a bike ride. We've hardly been on our bikes at all in the past couple years, since Lucy isn't totally sold on the idea of riding in the bike trailer. As one who is accustomed to plodding along at a runner's pace, it was a really nice change of pace to cruise along at about three times that speed. We took the parkway south from our house, through the northern portion of Theodore Wirth (many of the trails of which have been redone in the past year-so it was really smooth sailing), and then onto the new "Bassett's Creek Cutoff;" a diagonal connector from the Grand Rounds to the Cedar Lake Trail-the nation's only "Bicycle Freeway" into downtown Minneapolis. Wonderful, wonderful, and again wonderful, the ride.
Our goal was to bike into downtown (around an hour's ride), then spend a few hours exploring St. Anothony Main. Mixdorf, if you are not aware of that area, you should be. It really seems like just your style. The "Haute Couture" in the title isn't really all that accurate, though I suppose compared to my normal lifestyle it might be considered such. But it is a really pleasant, vibrant mixture of scenery, greenery, and eateries; right along the banks of the Mississippi. It's been part of a huge HUGE revitalization of northeast Minneapolis (it's come a long way since my first week in the Twin Cities when all the riders of a bus I was on suddenly ducked following gunshots over by the Red Owl grocery). There's a lot of upscale urban condos, cool riverside restaurants & bars, and a 1.5-mile heritage trail celebrating the early history of the city that extends along both banks and across the Stone Arch and Hennepin Bridges. After our coffee stop on the way in and meal downtown, we actually didn't have time to explore the Heritage Trail (or the various parks interspersed along the way) in depth at all. I'd love to get back there-throw in a tour of the Mill City Museum along the trail on the downtown side, and you've got yourself a nice-long day of engagement. Anyway, in my time there it was really striking me that it was very Mixdorfian. Seems like if you were living in the Twin Cities, you might just choose to live here. In any event, consider this added to the list of possible activities for you & me during your visit. Potentially for you me & Cory-I think he'd get a kick out of hanging out in that area, as well. During our day we had (as planned) much discussion on Zephyr, and a little on the prospect of another child. Nothing necessarily resolved, but good discussion and good company, as always when we hang out.
Well, considering that was 20+ miles of biking on a hot, sunny day, it is no wonder that I did not feel all that much like running my seven-mile route last night. Nevertheless, I am committed to "stay on target." I ran and it was TOUGH, and I got WIPED. I did make it, and felt really good about myself and was treated to my best metropolitan wildlife sightings ever (one of my best wildlife sightings ever, period). Nearly three miles north of my house, along Shingle Creek, I saw it; a red fox, who paused just long enough to convey a sense of "I can't believe I just let that happen," before bolting off into the woods. About 50 or 60 feet away, there can be no doubt of what it was, and it was awesome.
Clouds and rain, or at least skies that threaten rain, have dominated the past two months in Minnesota. Yesterday, however, was the first in what looks like about week's worth of cloudless, sunny skies that we are in for. The timing couldn't have been more perfect for a bike ride. We've hardly been on our bikes at all in the past couple years, since Lucy isn't totally sold on the idea of riding in the bike trailer. As one who is accustomed to plodding along at a runner's pace, it was a really nice change of pace to cruise along at about three times that speed. We took the parkway south from our house, through the northern portion of Theodore Wirth (many of the trails of which have been redone in the past year-so it was really smooth sailing), and then onto the new "Bassett's Creek Cutoff;" a diagonal connector from the Grand Rounds to the Cedar Lake Trail-the nation's only "Bicycle Freeway" into downtown Minneapolis. Wonderful, wonderful, and again wonderful, the ride.
Our goal was to bike into downtown (around an hour's ride), then spend a few hours exploring St. Anothony Main. Mixdorf, if you are not aware of that area, you should be. It really seems like just your style. The "Haute Couture" in the title isn't really all that accurate, though I suppose compared to my normal lifestyle it might be considered such. But it is a really pleasant, vibrant mixture of scenery, greenery, and eateries; right along the banks of the Mississippi. It's been part of a huge HUGE revitalization of northeast Minneapolis (it's come a long way since my first week in the Twin Cities when all the riders of a bus I was on suddenly ducked following gunshots over by the Red Owl grocery). There's a lot of upscale urban condos, cool riverside restaurants & bars, and a 1.5-mile heritage trail celebrating the early history of the city that extends along both banks and across the Stone Arch and Hennepin Bridges. After our coffee stop on the way in and meal downtown, we actually didn't have time to explore the Heritage Trail (or the various parks interspersed along the way) in depth at all. I'd love to get back there-throw in a tour of the Mill City Museum along the trail on the downtown side, and you've got yourself a nice-long day of engagement. Anyway, in my time there it was really striking me that it was very Mixdorfian. Seems like if you were living in the Twin Cities, you might just choose to live here. In any event, consider this added to the list of possible activities for you & me during your visit. Potentially for you me & Cory-I think he'd get a kick out of hanging out in that area, as well. During our day we had (as planned) much discussion on Zephyr, and a little on the prospect of another child. Nothing necessarily resolved, but good discussion and good company, as always when we hang out.
Well, considering that was 20+ miles of biking on a hot, sunny day, it is no wonder that I did not feel all that much like running my seven-mile route last night. Nevertheless, I am committed to "stay on target." I ran and it was TOUGH, and I got WIPED. I did make it, and felt really good about myself and was treated to my best metropolitan wildlife sightings ever (one of my best wildlife sightings ever, period). Nearly three miles north of my house, along Shingle Creek, I saw it; a red fox, who paused just long enough to convey a sense of "I can't believe I just let that happen," before bolting off into the woods. About 50 or 60 feet away, there can be no doubt of what it was, and it was awesome.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Worse than Willfull Ignorance?
If there's anyone out there who reads my The Oliopolis but not Pat Mixdorf's Avagadros Number, please check out his wonderful essay on the differences between him and our president.
Most progressives in this country are well aware of the path of destruction left in the wake of Bush's trademark intellectual laziness, Pat covers the topic with great clarity and wit (though, not to misrepresent Pat's characterization, he does also believe The Prez to be an evil turd). I would really like to see how Pat would take on a deconstruction of perhaps an evil more unconscionable type of character, epitomized by our Senate Majority Leader, Bill Frist.
Where in Bush, we have this sort of willful ignorance and pretty simple arrogance, in Frist we have a man who by all counts is highly educated and intelligent, yet purposefully champions a number of misguided or evil causes through deliberately deceitful means. A wonderful example is his video diagnosis of Terri Shiavo (sp?). A HEART SURGEON making a NEUROLOGICAL DIAGNOSIS after WATCHING VIDEO in order to appeal to a radical social conservative group of voters with whom he hopes to curry favor (a diagnosis-that she could respond to visual stimuli-by the way, which has now been proven to be erroneous). He is trying to alter Senate rules in order to confirm a fringe element of conservative judges (and a fringe element to be our UN ambassador), supports numerous White House initiatives that do not pass ethical or intellectual muster, and actually went so far in his pandering to the radical right that he refused repeated requests for a roll call vote that would have put senators on the record in a FAILED (you read that right-failed) attempt to pass legislation to apologize for our nation never having passed anti-LYNCHING laws. Thus, of course, protecting identities of the mostly southern, all-conservative senators that shot fillibustered and eventually killed the bill. What an absolute bastard-and one I believe could be considered to be far more evil than George W Bush. Which is worse-to never have a soul or to sell it?
Most progressives in this country are well aware of the path of destruction left in the wake of Bush's trademark intellectual laziness, Pat covers the topic with great clarity and wit (though, not to misrepresent Pat's characterization, he does also believe The Prez to be an evil turd). I would really like to see how Pat would take on a deconstruction of perhaps an evil more unconscionable type of character, epitomized by our Senate Majority Leader, Bill Frist.
Where in Bush, we have this sort of willful ignorance and pretty simple arrogance, in Frist we have a man who by all counts is highly educated and intelligent, yet purposefully champions a number of misguided or evil causes through deliberately deceitful means. A wonderful example is his video diagnosis of Terri Shiavo (sp?). A HEART SURGEON making a NEUROLOGICAL DIAGNOSIS after WATCHING VIDEO in order to appeal to a radical social conservative group of voters with whom he hopes to curry favor (a diagnosis-that she could respond to visual stimuli-by the way, which has now been proven to be erroneous). He is trying to alter Senate rules in order to confirm a fringe element of conservative judges (and a fringe element to be our UN ambassador), supports numerous White House initiatives that do not pass ethical or intellectual muster, and actually went so far in his pandering to the radical right that he refused repeated requests for a roll call vote that would have put senators on the record in a FAILED (you read that right-failed) attempt to pass legislation to apologize for our nation never having passed anti-LYNCHING laws. Thus, of course, protecting identities of the mostly southern, all-conservative senators that shot fillibustered and eventually killed the bill. What an absolute bastard-and one I believe could be considered to be far more evil than George W Bush. Which is worse-to never have a soul or to sell it?
Monday, June 13, 2005
The Awakening of the Panther, Burned!, and Balance to Force
The Awakening of the Panther:
So far, my "desperate training" has been a success, as has been validation of my theory that I have a storehouse of unspent "running capital." I went from running 3-6 miles/week to running 27 miles from last Monday through Saturday. I was a little sore after the first day, but not after that. Each of the three seven mile runs on which I went got successively easier and faster, as (I believe) my muscles & body more or less remembered their previous form & flow, and settled in. Oh, and remember me mentioning that my previous time in running was 56-54 minutes for 6-7 miles? I was daft. The distance is a full 7 miles, and the only previous recorded times I had for the route (in the midst of my duathalon training, as I recall) were 1 hr 8 min & 1 hr 5 min. Well, on that particular route, which I ran on both day 1 and day 4 of my training this time 'round, my times were 1 hr 11 min & 1 hr 8 min, respectively. So, I'm hardly off that time at all. I'm gonna feel pretty good if I end up breaking 1 hr. Really, really good if I am breaking 8 minute miles (<56 minutes) by the end of my training.
Burned!
Had the afternoon with Lucy yesterday. I did a great job with sunblock on her (totally sunny day and about 85 degrees) in a 2 mile round-trip up to a Mississippi River playground and swimming pool. I also put sunblock on my own neck and tops of shoulders-the only places I recall battling sunburns in the past. Suprising: the low number of times I go around in a tank-top these days. Unfortunately, I totally missed my upper back (exposed due to the low plunging neckband) and sides under & behind my shoulders (similarly exposed). I ended up totally fried in this unique places to the point where it actually made laying down for sleep uncomfortable. I think it's actually been so long since I've had a bad burn that it was pre-"society freaked out about UV" era. Will definitely be wearing a T-shirt for my next couple of runs, but as Sharon reminded me, the elevated amount of heat my body will give off during the run definitely promises some level of torture.
Balance to the Force:
Watching Anakin's fall hit effected both Sharon & me emotionally, but the extent to which it affected Sharon was actually quite surprising. We were just getting ready to embark on viewing of episodes IV-VI, when she made come comment to the affect of, "It's just so sad and tragic, knowing where he came from and seeing how far he fell. Not that you can really have any sympathy for Darth Vader, but it just seems like a waste-he was that child that was so altruistic, had all this potential, and it was all for nothing." To which I replied, "But, of course...he does end up bringing Balance to the Force and Peace to the Galaxy." "Huh?" "You do remember how episode VI ends, right?" She did not, and after I gently reminded her that Anakin did indeed kill Vader & the Emperor in one fell swoop and effectively put an end to the Sith forever, she was much happier.
So far, my "desperate training" has been a success, as has been validation of my theory that I have a storehouse of unspent "running capital." I went from running 3-6 miles/week to running 27 miles from last Monday through Saturday. I was a little sore after the first day, but not after that. Each of the three seven mile runs on which I went got successively easier and faster, as (I believe) my muscles & body more or less remembered their previous form & flow, and settled in. Oh, and remember me mentioning that my previous time in running was 56-54 minutes for 6-7 miles? I was daft. The distance is a full 7 miles, and the only previous recorded times I had for the route (in the midst of my duathalon training, as I recall) were 1 hr 8 min & 1 hr 5 min. Well, on that particular route, which I ran on both day 1 and day 4 of my training this time 'round, my times were 1 hr 11 min & 1 hr 8 min, respectively. So, I'm hardly off that time at all. I'm gonna feel pretty good if I end up breaking 1 hr. Really, really good if I am breaking 8 minute miles (<56 minutes) by the end of my training.
Burned!
Had the afternoon with Lucy yesterday. I did a great job with sunblock on her (totally sunny day and about 85 degrees) in a 2 mile round-trip up to a Mississippi River playground and swimming pool. I also put sunblock on my own neck and tops of shoulders-the only places I recall battling sunburns in the past. Suprising: the low number of times I go around in a tank-top these days. Unfortunately, I totally missed my upper back (exposed due to the low plunging neckband) and sides under & behind my shoulders (similarly exposed). I ended up totally fried in this unique places to the point where it actually made laying down for sleep uncomfortable. I think it's actually been so long since I've had a bad burn that it was pre-"society freaked out about UV" era. Will definitely be wearing a T-shirt for my next couple of runs, but as Sharon reminded me, the elevated amount of heat my body will give off during the run definitely promises some level of torture.
Balance to the Force:
Watching Anakin's fall hit effected both Sharon & me emotionally, but the extent to which it affected Sharon was actually quite surprising. We were just getting ready to embark on viewing of episodes IV-VI, when she made come comment to the affect of, "It's just so sad and tragic, knowing where he came from and seeing how far he fell. Not that you can really have any sympathy for Darth Vader, but it just seems like a waste-he was that child that was so altruistic, had all this potential, and it was all for nothing." To which I replied, "But, of course...he does end up bringing Balance to the Force and Peace to the Galaxy." "Huh?" "You do remember how episode VI ends, right?" She did not, and after I gently reminded her that Anakin did indeed kill Vader & the Emperor in one fell swoop and effectively put an end to the Sith forever, she was much happier.
Saturday, June 11, 2005
Sort of Blown Away
Had the day off on Thursday to take little Lucy to the zoo-which was quite fun, then to our first ever parent-teacher "conference" with her Montessori instructor (also fun), and then went out with Sharon for a "Revenge of the Sith" viewing.
I have spoken about the movie a bit with Aaron & at great length with Mixdorf. I welcome more bloggin' discussing, but I will simply point out a few notables:
- What a downer!
- With the exception of Yoda, non-human Jedi not worth a damn!
- Throwing around of objects with the force not used by Jedi nearly enough.
- Yoda seems to have a bit of trouble finishing people off.
I will also say that I enjoyed this movie quite a bit. I think it was the best of the "first" three, both in terms of plot/character development, action, and writing. The Palpatine/Anakin scene during that straaange performance was the best written scene of episodes I-III, I think.
I think I liked it more than Mixdorf, but not quite as much as Cory. Will probably take the opporunity to have a sinfully late-night viewing (12:00 am showing or some shit).
Also interested in finding out about the "lost Jedi years" TV series (that would presumably fill in the blanks between episodes III and IV) that is rumoured in the works. Would potentially answer my burning question: Any Jedi beyond Obi-Wan & Yoda survive?
I have spoken about the movie a bit with Aaron & at great length with Mixdorf. I welcome more bloggin' discussing, but I will simply point out a few notables:
- What a downer!
- With the exception of Yoda, non-human Jedi not worth a damn!
- Throwing around of objects with the force not used by Jedi nearly enough.
- Yoda seems to have a bit of trouble finishing people off.
I will also say that I enjoyed this movie quite a bit. I think it was the best of the "first" three, both in terms of plot/character development, action, and writing. The Palpatine/Anakin scene during that straaange performance was the best written scene of episodes I-III, I think.
I think I liked it more than Mixdorf, but not quite as much as Cory. Will probably take the opporunity to have a sinfully late-night viewing (12:00 am showing or some shit).
Also interested in finding out about the "lost Jedi years" TV series (that would presumably fill in the blanks between episodes III and IV) that is rumoured in the works. Would potentially answer my burning question: Any Jedi beyond Obi-Wan & Yoda survive?
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
I've Been Tagged!
His first post in about a month and a half and that bastard Johnson tagged me! A quiz about DVDs, nonetheless. It's a tough go for me-as I am one who has long professed to be generally against the buying of DVDs, especially versus music (would I rather buy something with unlimited listening potential or something that I will watch maybe twice in my lifetime?) Of course the obvious exceptions are...well, you'll have to read below...
1. Total number of films I own on DVD/video:
I'm going to exclude TV series from this question, since it explicitly says "films." The answer is four. The "Lord of the Rings" series and "Atack of the Clones." The latter was actually a gift, though I will probably get around to owning the whole sage at some point in my life.
2. The last film I bought:
"Return of the King," of course.
3. The last film I watched:
"Private Lives." A VHS rental from the best rental store in the Twin Cities, which I'm happy to plug: Robbinsdale's "Video Universe." That said, I wasn't a huge fan of the movie.
4. Five films that I watch a lot or that mean a lot to me:
I don't watch any films "a lot," other than TLOR and SW (from each of which I will only allow myself to pick one), so I will go purely on the "means a lot to me" bent. Still tough, as there are many many movies that have made an deep and lasting impression on me (though not so lasting that I can remember them at this time):
- Fellowship of the Ring
- Blazing Saddles
- Star Wars
- Roger & Me
- Pee Wee's Big Adventure
Funny, you'd never guess from that list that I'm not even all that into sci-fi or comedies these days..
Tag 5 people? Do they have to be bloggers, all? I can't do it. Most of my friends are un-connected. That Bastard, Johnson, already took Pat, so I'll throw in the only other blogger with whom I'm in regular contact: T-Clog.
1. Total number of films I own on DVD/video:
I'm going to exclude TV series from this question, since it explicitly says "films." The answer is four. The "Lord of the Rings" series and "Atack of the Clones." The latter was actually a gift, though I will probably get around to owning the whole sage at some point in my life.
2. The last film I bought:
"Return of the King," of course.
3. The last film I watched:
"Private Lives." A VHS rental from the best rental store in the Twin Cities, which I'm happy to plug: Robbinsdale's "Video Universe." That said, I wasn't a huge fan of the movie.
4. Five films that I watch a lot or that mean a lot to me:
I don't watch any films "a lot," other than TLOR and SW (from each of which I will only allow myself to pick one), so I will go purely on the "means a lot to me" bent. Still tough, as there are many many movies that have made an deep and lasting impression on me (though not so lasting that I can remember them at this time):
- Fellowship of the Ring
- Blazing Saddles
- Star Wars
- Roger & Me
- Pee Wee's Big Adventure
Funny, you'd never guess from that list that I'm not even all that into sci-fi or comedies these days..
Tag 5 people? Do they have to be bloggers, all? I can't do it. Most of my friends are un-connected. That Bastard, Johnson, already took Pat, so I'll throw in the only other blogger with whom I'm in regular contact: T-Clog.
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Here Goes the Panther
Like a Phoenix from the ashes, so again rises my desire to train, sweat, and burn. It really is amazing, this cycle which can reach amazing lows (such as my 2001 "retirement") and highs (my 25Ks, my marathon). In the past few weeks I've had this general sense that I wanted to start "running again regularly," though have not been doing so on any sort of schedule. I just knew I wanted to be in decent shape for the "Weekend at Dan's Pad." But seeing those runners, & walking the trails out at Afton; well, that's done it.
I get myself so worked up in my own mind. I am now obsessed with running the Afton 25K trail run: http://www.aftontrailrun.com/ Only problem is, it's less than 4 weeks away. The sort of training I'm considering goes against years of wisdom and experience I have with respect to training and injury prevention, but my thinking is this: I have some running capital, and I intend to spend it.
The last two 25K trail runs training programs I have undertaken have been over a period of 12 weeks each, with the idea that I was running enough to swing a 5-6 mile "long run" at the end of the first week. And even after that training, I was hampered by cramps for the last couple of miles on race day. So 4 weeks of training? What am I thinking? Well, here's my thinking on the "running capital":
1. Is it possible that I have more built up reserves, due to my years of off/on running, and can get back up to speed in less time than I have previously realized?
2. Is it possible that my training has not traditionally been very efficient? It is generally 2 short, relatively easy (3 mile) running days sandwiching a tougher, longer "tempo day" midweek, with a long run at the end of the week. Towards the end of the training, the easy runs get a little longer, but looking back at previous schedules last night, I was surprised that the 3 mile distance for those continued through week 8 or so. Is it possible that after the first couple of weeks, I am getting very, very little benefit from those short runs?
3. Injury prevention: hydration & stretching, for both of which I have poor track records. In such a small window, could I do the stretching and water-consumption I need to in order to recouperate and keep my body lithe?
Last night, all these crazy thoughts welling up in my head, I set out on a favorite 7 mile run; not sure I could necessarily even finish it. I did. The best time I have ever recorded for that route is 54 minutes. Last night's time: 1 hr 11 minutes, and I was pretty much maxing myself out. Ouch. That's off about 2 minutes a mile, and is gonna have to change significantly in the next few weeks. How sore I get from that run will also play a major part in determining the fate of my next month.
No guarantee I can pull this off. Hills at Afton are no joke, and not to be dismissed or underestimated. It's a grand experiment (I'll be trying to get in 4 runs a week, with two of them being 7+ miles and a long run that go from 7 to 10 to 13 on consecutive Sundays prior to the race. If I can't keep up the schedule and/or if I can't manage the Sunday distances, I'll know I set the bar too high and pull out. It's definitely gonna take some focus & guts. But my single-mindedness, at least over a small stretch of time, is also not to be underestimated.
I get myself so worked up in my own mind. I am now obsessed with running the Afton 25K trail run: http://www.aftontrailrun.com/ Only problem is, it's less than 4 weeks away. The sort of training I'm considering goes against years of wisdom and experience I have with respect to training and injury prevention, but my thinking is this: I have some running capital, and I intend to spend it.
The last two 25K trail runs training programs I have undertaken have been over a period of 12 weeks each, with the idea that I was running enough to swing a 5-6 mile "long run" at the end of the first week. And even after that training, I was hampered by cramps for the last couple of miles on race day. So 4 weeks of training? What am I thinking? Well, here's my thinking on the "running capital":
1. Is it possible that I have more built up reserves, due to my years of off/on running, and can get back up to speed in less time than I have previously realized?
2. Is it possible that my training has not traditionally been very efficient? It is generally 2 short, relatively easy (3 mile) running days sandwiching a tougher, longer "tempo day" midweek, with a long run at the end of the week. Towards the end of the training, the easy runs get a little longer, but looking back at previous schedules last night, I was surprised that the 3 mile distance for those continued through week 8 or so. Is it possible that after the first couple of weeks, I am getting very, very little benefit from those short runs?
3. Injury prevention: hydration & stretching, for both of which I have poor track records. In such a small window, could I do the stretching and water-consumption I need to in order to recouperate and keep my body lithe?
Last night, all these crazy thoughts welling up in my head, I set out on a favorite 7 mile run; not sure I could necessarily even finish it. I did. The best time I have ever recorded for that route is 54 minutes. Last night's time: 1 hr 11 minutes, and I was pretty much maxing myself out. Ouch. That's off about 2 minutes a mile, and is gonna have to change significantly in the next few weeks. How sore I get from that run will also play a major part in determining the fate of my next month.
No guarantee I can pull this off. Hills at Afton are no joke, and not to be dismissed or underestimated. It's a grand experiment (I'll be trying to get in 4 runs a week, with two of them being 7+ miles and a long run that go from 7 to 10 to 13 on consecutive Sundays prior to the race. If I can't keep up the schedule and/or if I can't manage the Sunday distances, I'll know I set the bar too high and pull out. It's definitely gonna take some focus & guts. But my single-mindedness, at least over a small stretch of time, is also not to be underestimated.
Monday, June 06, 2005
Rivers of Mud, Field Rest 2005, and the Stirring of the Heart of a Panther
Ah, Afton State Park, my old friend. The site of the first few February Freeze-Offs, as well as numerous other camping overnighters; it is temptingly close to the Twin Cities, considering the relatively large space in which to frolic, wonderfully hilly terrain, and nicely remote camping facilities (backpack only). Since our attempt to camp in Kansas Territory was thrwarted the previous weekend, we were damned sure going to make it happen this time. Originally, we were planning an overnight at Backbone State Park while down in Waterloo for my niece's high-school graduation open house. But the camping facilities there were too much an unknown, both in terms of availability (Iowa does not allow the reserving of sites) and quality (though Backbone is a cool place, that does not guarantee you are not squashed in between banks of RVs & screaming families, KOA-style, in the campground). I think my future Iowa camping experiences (and, perhaps my camping experiences anywhere) will be limited to backpack-site or backcountry only). Afton was a known and trusted entity.
We ran into rain, though. Good God, in what percentage of my past camping trips have I battled this old adversary? Almost certainly, it exceed the percentage of actual days in which these places have received rain throughout the years. While we did not battle "Rivers of Mud" as the post-title indicates (ala the trip to Eagle Mountain, or on the coast of Maine), we were facing something that ranged from a light drizzle to a steady downpour all the way from the parking lot to the actual campsite which, as some of my readers (2/3 of my readers?) may recall involves perhaps the longest uninterrupted uphill climb in the state of Minnesota. While nice weather is always preferable, I am generally an experienced enough camper these days to take rain in stride (though packing up a wet tent during a rain for continued backpacking would suck even for Will Steiger). As usual, though, the equation is slightly different when one of your party is about two years old. Not that she minded at all. Dressed up in blue rubber rain boots and a little blue raincoat that made it look like she was wearing nothing else, Lucy dutifully toted her froggie backpack along; and, as far as I could tell, she was unencumbered by the slightest amount of stress about how & when we would be able to set the tent up, how we would cook that night (or build a fire) or any other general campout concern. It did let up, right about when we got into camp; and aside from two more very brief deluges (one very shortly after while we huddled in the tent, that brought to mind very vivid recollections of "Rivers of Mud;" and one at about 4 am), the rain clouds did very little other than constantly threaten for the rest of the day/night/next morning. We ended up getting in a brief hike up to the pine forest, having a nice campfire (& eating s'mores), and getting a very comfortable night's sleep (Sharon switched her traditional side with me-sacrificing the ability to zip her bag to her claustrophobic husband's, and granting him the ability to keep his sleeping bag's zipper to the outside), and a beautiful next morning.
The next morning was, indeed, beautiful. We had a leisurely morning, then packed up everything with the intent of backpacking a roundabout way back to the car. My little girl loves hiking, though we end up moving at a pace of about a half mile-per hour. We left the trail up near the pine forest that some of you may recall and, peeking out the other side, I happened to see what may have been the actual site of the original field rest (Feb. of 95-96? when it was 50+ degrees and all the snow melted off a south-facing hillside and we all rested in various stages of disrobe, following an intense snowball fight). I snapped a picture that I will forward to all interested parties. Looks quite different in the summer, as the prairie grasses (technically oak savannah grasses) are tall & green, rather than matted & yellow. The pine forest was long & lovely & provided me a chance to hear my favorite sound in the world-the timeless rush of wind in the tops of evergreens.
At the end of the forest, we got back on the trail, took a huge descent down by the river and began the long trek through river bottoms back to the car. Along the way, we encountered a number of trail runners, padding along with near-zero body fat and rhythmic panting. Man, but I am suddenly wishing I was in the midst of training to be able to do the 25K race at Afton...but alas. I am not. And my body fat percentage is not, well, zero.
We ran into rain, though. Good God, in what percentage of my past camping trips have I battled this old adversary? Almost certainly, it exceed the percentage of actual days in which these places have received rain throughout the years. While we did not battle "Rivers of Mud" as the post-title indicates (ala the trip to Eagle Mountain, or on the coast of Maine), we were facing something that ranged from a light drizzle to a steady downpour all the way from the parking lot to the actual campsite which, as some of my readers (2/3 of my readers?) may recall involves perhaps the longest uninterrupted uphill climb in the state of Minnesota. While nice weather is always preferable, I am generally an experienced enough camper these days to take rain in stride (though packing up a wet tent during a rain for continued backpacking would suck even for Will Steiger). As usual, though, the equation is slightly different when one of your party is about two years old. Not that she minded at all. Dressed up in blue rubber rain boots and a little blue raincoat that made it look like she was wearing nothing else, Lucy dutifully toted her froggie backpack along; and, as far as I could tell, she was unencumbered by the slightest amount of stress about how & when we would be able to set the tent up, how we would cook that night (or build a fire) or any other general campout concern. It did let up, right about when we got into camp; and aside from two more very brief deluges (one very shortly after while we huddled in the tent, that brought to mind very vivid recollections of "Rivers of Mud;" and one at about 4 am), the rain clouds did very little other than constantly threaten for the rest of the day/night/next morning. We ended up getting in a brief hike up to the pine forest, having a nice campfire (& eating s'mores), and getting a very comfortable night's sleep (Sharon switched her traditional side with me-sacrificing the ability to zip her bag to her claustrophobic husband's, and granting him the ability to keep his sleeping bag's zipper to the outside), and a beautiful next morning.
The next morning was, indeed, beautiful. We had a leisurely morning, then packed up everything with the intent of backpacking a roundabout way back to the car. My little girl loves hiking, though we end up moving at a pace of about a half mile-per hour. We left the trail up near the pine forest that some of you may recall and, peeking out the other side, I happened to see what may have been the actual site of the original field rest (Feb. of 95-96? when it was 50+ degrees and all the snow melted off a south-facing hillside and we all rested in various stages of disrobe, following an intense snowball fight). I snapped a picture that I will forward to all interested parties. Looks quite different in the summer, as the prairie grasses (technically oak savannah grasses) are tall & green, rather than matted & yellow. The pine forest was long & lovely & provided me a chance to hear my favorite sound in the world-the timeless rush of wind in the tops of evergreens.
At the end of the forest, we got back on the trail, took a huge descent down by the river and began the long trek through river bottoms back to the car. Along the way, we encountered a number of trail runners, padding along with near-zero body fat and rhythmic panting. Man, but I am suddenly wishing I was in the midst of training to be able to do the 25K race at Afton...but alas. I am not. And my body fat percentage is not, well, zero.
Friday, June 03, 2005
The Mayflower Society
Been meaning to get around to this for awhile, but an interesting part of my family history:
James Chilton (one of original 28 people on the Mayflower who had kids)
Mary Chilton married John Winslow begat
Susanna Winslow married Robert Latham begat
Mercy Latham married Isaac Harris begat
Mary Harris married Daniel Packard begat
Sarah Packard married Zachariah Shaw begat
Judith Shaw married John Edson begat
Isaac Edson married Sarah Ford begat
Daniel Edson married Rachel Needham begat
Sarah Edson married Francis Shumard begat
Rachel Shumard married William Groom begat
Roe Groom married Alice Meade begat
Lois Groom married Jack Hylton begat
Dan Hylton
Each state has a chapter of the Mayflower Society-been thinking about joining, and finally got around to filling out some paperwork. My anscestry also makes me eligible for "Sons & Daughters of the American Revolution," but this is just a little cooler...
James Chilton (one of original 28 people on the Mayflower who had kids)
Mary Chilton married John Winslow begat
Susanna Winslow married Robert Latham begat
Mercy Latham married Isaac Harris begat
Mary Harris married Daniel Packard begat
Sarah Packard married Zachariah Shaw begat
Judith Shaw married John Edson begat
Isaac Edson married Sarah Ford begat
Daniel Edson married Rachel Needham begat
Sarah Edson married Francis Shumard begat
Rachel Shumard married William Groom begat
Roe Groom married Alice Meade begat
Lois Groom married Jack Hylton begat
Dan Hylton
Each state has a chapter of the Mayflower Society-been thinking about joining, and finally got around to filling out some paperwork. My anscestry also makes me eligible for "Sons & Daughters of the American Revolution," but this is just a little cooler...
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Don't Get Me Wrong...
The girl can get mad.
She's always had the capability of getting really mad-in the earlier times (and still), not being understood, one way or the other, is something that would set her off. "Tantrums," if you could even call them that, were very short outbursts quickly passed & gone. More recently, however, these episodes have seemed to grow in frequency and somewhat in duration. I think it has to do with some of the earliest comprehension of herself as an individual. She's exploring boundaries-how far she can push for independence, what is appropriate and what is not appropriate, what works and doesn't work in getting what she wants, etc. And, of course, her little head is processing things in a way that Sharon & I can't truly understand.
So, if not getting what she wants sets her off, she stiffens up and wants to fling herself back onto the floor. Unfortunately, her personal safety is not foremost on her mind at those times, and so we're trying to strike the balance between giving her the space she needs and making sure her head doesn't smack into the hardwood floor. Other than that-we let her know that we understand what she wants (and take it seriously-even if it's just something like wanting to wear snowman socks), let her know we'll be there when she's ready, and then just back the hell off.
I have no basis of comparison, so I don't know how to gague the intensity or frequency of the outbursts, but in reading I have trusted, the tantrum is a pressure-valve release-an absolutely necessary method of releasing various stresses and offering some relief from the pressure of all that new learning & processing. People like us can go for a run, zone in front of a TV, smoke a cigarette, meditate, listen to music, or do whatever works for us. Toddlers, of course, don't make conscious decisions on how to attend to their mental health. The tantrum is the answer.
It's hard not to take it personally and wonder if you're doing something wrong (or, worse yet, start that bane of parenthood-wondering if the behavior is "normal"), but the happy, curious, hilarious child that we get in between is definitely a cure-all for all those worries.
Anyway-lest from my blogging anyone think I'm trying to give the impression our household is a nonstop bucket of laughs...unfortunately, only most of the time.
She's always had the capability of getting really mad-in the earlier times (and still), not being understood, one way or the other, is something that would set her off. "Tantrums," if you could even call them that, were very short outbursts quickly passed & gone. More recently, however, these episodes have seemed to grow in frequency and somewhat in duration. I think it has to do with some of the earliest comprehension of herself as an individual. She's exploring boundaries-how far she can push for independence, what is appropriate and what is not appropriate, what works and doesn't work in getting what she wants, etc. And, of course, her little head is processing things in a way that Sharon & I can't truly understand.
So, if not getting what she wants sets her off, she stiffens up and wants to fling herself back onto the floor. Unfortunately, her personal safety is not foremost on her mind at those times, and so we're trying to strike the balance between giving her the space she needs and making sure her head doesn't smack into the hardwood floor. Other than that-we let her know that we understand what she wants (and take it seriously-even if it's just something like wanting to wear snowman socks), let her know we'll be there when she's ready, and then just back the hell off.
I have no basis of comparison, so I don't know how to gague the intensity or frequency of the outbursts, but in reading I have trusted, the tantrum is a pressure-valve release-an absolutely necessary method of releasing various stresses and offering some relief from the pressure of all that new learning & processing. People like us can go for a run, zone in front of a TV, smoke a cigarette, meditate, listen to music, or do whatever works for us. Toddlers, of course, don't make conscious decisions on how to attend to their mental health. The tantrum is the answer.
It's hard not to take it personally and wonder if you're doing something wrong (or, worse yet, start that bane of parenthood-wondering if the behavior is "normal"), but the happy, curious, hilarious child that we get in between is definitely a cure-all for all those worries.
Anyway-lest from my blogging anyone think I'm trying to give the impression our household is a nonstop bucket of laughs...unfortunately, only most of the time.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Catching Up on the Sleep Debt
How tired I was on the KS trip this last weekend was kind of a wake-up call, so to speak, with respect to my sleep debt. I'm way, way in the red.
I have a tendency to stay up to late. Partly, it's because after Lucy goes to bed is essentially the first time of each day when I have a chance to catch my breath. It's easy to just sit in one place and let thoughts from the day buzz and buzz about in my head. Sometimes I can use that time to get important things done, such as checkbook balancing and doing the dishes. It's a struggle to motivate myself to be productive at that hour and in that "wasted at the end of the day" state. It's even harder to motivate myself to do something constructive, but that requires brain power, such as write & record music (which essentially explains that chryogenically-frozen state of "The Secret of Him" recording). It's even easier to waste time in front of the computer, or aimlessly strumming a guitar.
Perhaps if I can get back on track a little, sleep-wise, I will have an extra 30-minutes to an hour each night in which I have energy and ambition. We shall see. In any event, putting Lucy down last night, I fell asleep right alongside her and didn't really wake up until morning.
A couple of shining moments last night before we fell asleep:
1. She decided (as she sometimes does) that she wanted to read to ME. The book: Wocket in my Pocket. Though of course she can't read, she got a majority of the characters right as she went from page to page, asking me with much inflection, "Is there a Nink in your sink?" and so on.
2. When we got to the part where I refuse to engage in conversation ("I'm not going to talk anymore, Lucy-it's time to be sleeping") she engaged in what has become the norm. A long-winded, whispery stream-of-consciousness monologue in which she covers a great range of her vocabulary and experience, while I silently listen, eyes closed. I don't even remember what the exact subject of the monologue was at the moment I couldn't control myself anymore, but I couldn't help from cracking a smile and starting to chuckle. Lucy, of course, noticed she had an audience. I could hear the moment of her realization: "Ahhh?," followed by a chuckle of her own and, "Do you think I'm----FUNNY, Daddy?" What could I say, but "Yes, Loo, you're funny. You made your Daddy laugh. But it's still time to sleep."
A cold, cold heart I would have, indeed, if I could not always be open to giving some points for great bouts of humour, or creativity.
I have a tendency to stay up to late. Partly, it's because after Lucy goes to bed is essentially the first time of each day when I have a chance to catch my breath. It's easy to just sit in one place and let thoughts from the day buzz and buzz about in my head. Sometimes I can use that time to get important things done, such as checkbook balancing and doing the dishes. It's a struggle to motivate myself to be productive at that hour and in that "wasted at the end of the day" state. It's even harder to motivate myself to do something constructive, but that requires brain power, such as write & record music (which essentially explains that chryogenically-frozen state of "The Secret of Him" recording). It's even easier to waste time in front of the computer, or aimlessly strumming a guitar.
Perhaps if I can get back on track a little, sleep-wise, I will have an extra 30-minutes to an hour each night in which I have energy and ambition. We shall see. In any event, putting Lucy down last night, I fell asleep right alongside her and didn't really wake up until morning.
A couple of shining moments last night before we fell asleep:
1. She decided (as she sometimes does) that she wanted to read to ME. The book: Wocket in my Pocket. Though of course she can't read, she got a majority of the characters right as she went from page to page, asking me with much inflection, "Is there a Nink in your sink?" and so on.
2. When we got to the part where I refuse to engage in conversation ("I'm not going to talk anymore, Lucy-it's time to be sleeping") she engaged in what has become the norm. A long-winded, whispery stream-of-consciousness monologue in which she covers a great range of her vocabulary and experience, while I silently listen, eyes closed. I don't even remember what the exact subject of the monologue was at the moment I couldn't control myself anymore, but I couldn't help from cracking a smile and starting to chuckle. Lucy, of course, noticed she had an audience. I could hear the moment of her realization: "Ahhh?," followed by a chuckle of her own and, "Do you think I'm----FUNNY, Daddy?" What could I say, but "Yes, Loo, you're funny. You made your Daddy laugh. But it's still time to sleep."
A cold, cold heart I would have, indeed, if I could not always be open to giving some points for great bouts of humour, or creativity.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Food For Thought
“We have been led in Mesopotamia into a trap from which it will be hard to escape with dignity and honor. We have been tricked into it by a steady withholding of information. The Baghdad communiqués are belated, insincere, incomplete. Things have been far worse than we have been told. Our administration more bloody and inefficient than the public knows. It is a disgrace to our record, and may soon be too inflamed for any ordinary cure. We are today not far from a disaster. Our unfortunate troops, under hard conditions of climate and supply, are policing an immense area, paying dearly everyday in lives for the willfully wrong policy of the civil administration in Baghdad.”
Lawrence of Arabia, 1920
PrairyErth Country: The Return
The drive down was a little tougher than expected. I guess I underestimated how far in the red I was with respect to my "sleep debt." My drowsy driving was starting to put my family in danger just north of Ames, so we stopped at the Super 8 in Story City for the night. A wonderful sleep it was, but the remaining six hours of driving we had ahead of us from that point on was made a lot more complicated, since it had to take place during Lucy's waking hours.
We managed to roll in just after three on Saturday, and found the whole situation at Council Grove Lake to be bitterly disappointing. Let me start by just taking a major shot at Kansas Parks & Rec. in general. As I understand, Kansas has a smaller percentage of public land than any other state in the union. In our two successful camping experiences in the state, Cimarron National Grassland and Flint Hills Wildlife Refuge, we have pitched our tent within sight of oil rigs and barbed-wire fences, respectfully. Even their "public" land is simply land that is distinguished by some sort of classification, but is still privately owned. Kansas are so intensely distrustful of the government, it is pervasive in how it bears itself out. Hardly any government-owned land, absolute refusal for development of wind-farm infrastructure (in pastures in one of the windiest regions on earth), etc. etc. Anyway, it seems that all their (15 or so) state parks do not exist for preservation of wild, natural, or scenic areas. They exist purely as a result of the need to provide quick, close access to recreational areas for fishing, hunting, or ATV riding.
We thought we had a great plan when we discovered there were "primitive" camping sites around the lake. Not having to pitch a tent in a city of RVs (a rare opportunity in a Kansas campground). The guy at the main office, when I called ahead, told us that they didn't take reservations, nor were they necessary. Unless, as we found out when we pulled in, on Memorial Day weekend. Even those primitive sites were filled to the gills with tents. Trucks that had hauled boats & ATVs. Crappy tents and enormous coolers and loud families. Even had there been a spot, it would have been the farthest thing from what Sharon & I are looking for when we go camping, which is the ABSENCE OF PEOPLE, and the PRESENCE OF NATURE. To make matters worse, we had spent the entire day talking to Lucy about how we were about to go camping. It was really tough on Lucy and really, really tough on Sharon. I was disappointed in not being able to camp, but I was secretly very very thankful there was not an open spot in that midst of that open-air festival of hillbillies. In any event, it was a rough scene as we had to take the act into town and find a room at the Old Trail Motel.
The next morning we had the opportunity to go out to the cemetary (an amazing, peaceful, historical place) and see my grandma's grave, where tears were shed and respects were paid. We then walked on into downtown Council Grove and met our relatives (Lucy's step-Great Grandmother, and my mom's brothers and sister). Like most gatherings of my relatives, it was moderately awkward, but we ended up at a park, where Lucy was quite entertained. For the longest time, we've talked about this mythical road trip all the way down I-35, where we would stop and spend the night at different relatives that live along the way. It was finally this trip when I realized, "Yeah, just what I need-awkward silence and strange feeling of being out of place all the way from Minneapolis to San Antonio."
By the time late afternoon came around, we found ourselves in another park, and by the end of the day, Lucy was quite spent. We ended up electing to take off prior to supper, a little earlier than originally planned and, after a very uneventful drive (of which I was able to swing all but one our of), we got back home at 3:15 am. Yesterday was a lazy day of recouperating, pulling dandelions, and trading off Lucy duty.
All in all, not too many hilights on the trip, other than great conversation during the part of the trip when Lucy was asleep and Sharon was not (reminiscent of some great pre-parenthood road trips) and, of course, seeing the graves, which made the whole thing worthwhile.
We managed to roll in just after three on Saturday, and found the whole situation at Council Grove Lake to be bitterly disappointing. Let me start by just taking a major shot at Kansas Parks & Rec. in general. As I understand, Kansas has a smaller percentage of public land than any other state in the union. In our two successful camping experiences in the state, Cimarron National Grassland and Flint Hills Wildlife Refuge, we have pitched our tent within sight of oil rigs and barbed-wire fences, respectfully. Even their "public" land is simply land that is distinguished by some sort of classification, but is still privately owned. Kansas are so intensely distrustful of the government, it is pervasive in how it bears itself out. Hardly any government-owned land, absolute refusal for development of wind-farm infrastructure (in pastures in one of the windiest regions on earth), etc. etc. Anyway, it seems that all their (15 or so) state parks do not exist for preservation of wild, natural, or scenic areas. They exist purely as a result of the need to provide quick, close access to recreational areas for fishing, hunting, or ATV riding.
We thought we had a great plan when we discovered there were "primitive" camping sites around the lake. Not having to pitch a tent in a city of RVs (a rare opportunity in a Kansas campground). The guy at the main office, when I called ahead, told us that they didn't take reservations, nor were they necessary. Unless, as we found out when we pulled in, on Memorial Day weekend. Even those primitive sites were filled to the gills with tents. Trucks that had hauled boats & ATVs. Crappy tents and enormous coolers and loud families. Even had there been a spot, it would have been the farthest thing from what Sharon & I are looking for when we go camping, which is the ABSENCE OF PEOPLE, and the PRESENCE OF NATURE. To make matters worse, we had spent the entire day talking to Lucy about how we were about to go camping. It was really tough on Lucy and really, really tough on Sharon. I was disappointed in not being able to camp, but I was secretly very very thankful there was not an open spot in that midst of that open-air festival of hillbillies. In any event, it was a rough scene as we had to take the act into town and find a room at the Old Trail Motel.
The next morning we had the opportunity to go out to the cemetary (an amazing, peaceful, historical place) and see my grandma's grave, where tears were shed and respects were paid. We then walked on into downtown Council Grove and met our relatives (Lucy's step-Great Grandmother, and my mom's brothers and sister). Like most gatherings of my relatives, it was moderately awkward, but we ended up at a park, where Lucy was quite entertained. For the longest time, we've talked about this mythical road trip all the way down I-35, where we would stop and spend the night at different relatives that live along the way. It was finally this trip when I realized, "Yeah, just what I need-awkward silence and strange feeling of being out of place all the way from Minneapolis to San Antonio."
By the time late afternoon came around, we found ourselves in another park, and by the end of the day, Lucy was quite spent. We ended up electing to take off prior to supper, a little earlier than originally planned and, after a very uneventful drive (of which I was able to swing all but one our of), we got back home at 3:15 am. Yesterday was a lazy day of recouperating, pulling dandelions, and trading off Lucy duty.
All in all, not too many hilights on the trip, other than great conversation during the part of the trip when Lucy was asleep and Sharon was not (reminiscent of some great pre-parenthood road trips) and, of course, seeing the graves, which made the whole thing worthwhile.
Friday, May 27, 2005
PrairyErth Country
We're heading off at midnight tonight for a trip down to Council Grove. We'll be rolling in about 9 am and heading out to a lake near town where we'll be camping for two nights while we attend to some family "business" in town.
It will be my first chance to visit my grandma's grave, which is something I really need to do. In light of there having not been a funeral, and life having been so busy in the past year, I really haven't gotten the closure I've needed. That could be a pretty emotional time for me. On a lighter note (though I am looking forward to visiting the grave), Lucy will have the chance to visit a few relatives that have never gotten the chance to meet her at dinner on Sunday. My mom & dad will be there too, and she gets a big kick out of them.
Other than that, it's going to be the first time I've visited the town without grandparents and, thus, an obligitory sort of adjenda of visiting people. We may really just spend a lot of time kicking down and relaxing in our campsite.
It will be my first chance to visit my grandma's grave, which is something I really need to do. In light of there having not been a funeral, and life having been so busy in the past year, I really haven't gotten the closure I've needed. That could be a pretty emotional time for me. On a lighter note (though I am looking forward to visiting the grave), Lucy will have the chance to visit a few relatives that have never gotten the chance to meet her at dinner on Sunday. My mom & dad will be there too, and she gets a big kick out of them.
Other than that, it's going to be the first time I've visited the town without grandparents and, thus, an obligitory sort of adjenda of visiting people. We may really just spend a lot of time kicking down and relaxing in our campsite.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
The Show Went On
Wow-what a trip. It was a rush and a blast. Technically, everything went about as well as could have been expected, and I felt great about how I performed.
My character, who has been bounced around throughout the play, actually dies at the end and doesn't stand with the rest of the cast for a bow. However, the whole cast followed the performance with 15 minutes of improv, and at the beginning of that, the director asked me to come forward and take a special bow-I got some whistles and extra cheers, which was immensely gratifying. Later, cast & crew met at a nearby pub for drinks & celebration and I had this amazing feeling of accomplishment, peace, and definitely some relief. A feeling I recall now from my acting of years ago, but that I had forgotten.
The director is hoping to do some organization & fundraising this summer before launching into a full-fledged (full-length, regular practice scheduled) drama this fall: Waiting for Lefty. It would actually involve auditions and have a much more rigorous practice schedule, presumably resulting in a much more polished show with a much larger audience. Man, I had a good time acting again-I think my future artistic involvement may sort of jump from acting venture to musical venture & back & forth, but probably rarely a concerted effort on both fronts at the same time.
On a side note, the performance was videotaped, I believe, if anyone would like a copy.
My character, who has been bounced around throughout the play, actually dies at the end and doesn't stand with the rest of the cast for a bow. However, the whole cast followed the performance with 15 minutes of improv, and at the beginning of that, the director asked me to come forward and take a special bow-I got some whistles and extra cheers, which was immensely gratifying. Later, cast & crew met at a nearby pub for drinks & celebration and I had this amazing feeling of accomplishment, peace, and definitely some relief. A feeling I recall now from my acting of years ago, but that I had forgotten.
The director is hoping to do some organization & fundraising this summer before launching into a full-fledged (full-length, regular practice scheduled) drama this fall: Waiting for Lefty. It would actually involve auditions and have a much more rigorous practice schedule, presumably resulting in a much more polished show with a much larger audience. Man, I had a good time acting again-I think my future artistic involvement may sort of jump from acting venture to musical venture & back & forth, but probably rarely a concerted effort on both fronts at the same time.
On a side note, the performance was videotaped, I believe, if anyone would like a copy.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
The Show Must Go On
Well, the big performance day is here: http://www.geocities.com/hylton44/NightmaresPlaybill.pdf
And some of the reality of what we're facing approaches the themes of the productions.
To begin with-we have had a total of 5 scheduled opportunities to get together and work on our plays, averaging about an hour a time for our particular play. About 5 hours of rehearsal. This contrasts to the 100+ odd hours of rehearsal that was standard in any of the plays I did in my youth, including rehearsals where all you did for 5 hours was stand in the right spot in between lines until they got your lighting mapped out, or rehearsals where all you did was "block" (get physical stage directions) certain portions of the play). To put it in perspective, last night (which was our dress rehearsal) was the first time we'd had an opportunity to run through the play from beginning to end. We had an actor drop out of our play about a week and a half ago. In the other play, one of the actors got a call during rehearsal last night that her dad was dying. Our director is having to cram and get ready to take over both roles. Absolute craziness. An Evening of Nightmares, indeed. Last night, lighting & sound effects we'd hoped to include were falling off left and right as it became apparent that we just weren't going to be able to pull them off.
We're the longer of the two plays-ours is a little over 30 minutes, of which I am onstage the whole time. At one point, I have a monologue that lasts about 5 minutes-kind of unbelievable, the amount of lines I've had to learn for this. Another thing I recall from my youth was that most of the memorization that really stuck took place in rehearsal (that way, you could get used to following actual cues, rather than sliding a piece of junk mail down a page, covering up your own lines). No such opporunity this time around, obviously. It has really been a situation of being thrown to the wolves.
As Sharon said last night, the way these plays are going to succeed is if the people in it, "act out of their asses." I intend to.
And some of the reality of what we're facing approaches the themes of the productions.
To begin with-we have had a total of 5 scheduled opportunities to get together and work on our plays, averaging about an hour a time for our particular play. About 5 hours of rehearsal. This contrasts to the 100+ odd hours of rehearsal that was standard in any of the plays I did in my youth, including rehearsals where all you did for 5 hours was stand in the right spot in between lines until they got your lighting mapped out, or rehearsals where all you did was "block" (get physical stage directions) certain portions of the play). To put it in perspective, last night (which was our dress rehearsal) was the first time we'd had an opportunity to run through the play from beginning to end. We had an actor drop out of our play about a week and a half ago. In the other play, one of the actors got a call during rehearsal last night that her dad was dying. Our director is having to cram and get ready to take over both roles. Absolute craziness. An Evening of Nightmares, indeed. Last night, lighting & sound effects we'd hoped to include were falling off left and right as it became apparent that we just weren't going to be able to pull them off.
We're the longer of the two plays-ours is a little over 30 minutes, of which I am onstage the whole time. At one point, I have a monologue that lasts about 5 minutes-kind of unbelievable, the amount of lines I've had to learn for this. Another thing I recall from my youth was that most of the memorization that really stuck took place in rehearsal (that way, you could get used to following actual cues, rather than sliding a piece of junk mail down a page, covering up your own lines). No such opporunity this time around, obviously. It has really been a situation of being thrown to the wolves.
As Sharon said last night, the way these plays are going to succeed is if the people in it, "act out of their asses." I intend to.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Flying Under the Radar
It is pretty well documented that I can not, will not shop at WalMart. Maybe 10% of the reason being the crappy merchandise, and 90% of the reason being unethical labor, commerce, and real estate practices.
Somehow, Target has managed to fly under the radar with a relatively squeaky-clean image, but digging in a little reveals that they're little better than their larger, uglier cousin. They are similarly anti-union, pro-import, and pro-superdevelopment.
Factoid to consider:
Annual salary of Target store employee: $13,000
Hourly salary of Target CEO: $19,010
(source: United Food and Commercial Workers Union)
Outside of the glaring irony of my workplace, I consider there to be a relatively good consistency between my values and my consumption. But the age of the all-purpose discount giant is probably here to stay-do I continue to boycott WalMart while ignoring the injustices of the Big Red Beast, in the name of them being the (slight) lesser of two evils? Perhaps I get a Costco membership: http://www.buyblue.org/detail.php?corpId=17
Somehow, Target has managed to fly under the radar with a relatively squeaky-clean image, but digging in a little reveals that they're little better than their larger, uglier cousin. They are similarly anti-union, pro-import, and pro-superdevelopment.
Factoid to consider:
Annual salary of Target store employee: $13,000
Hourly salary of Target CEO: $19,010
(source: United Food and Commercial Workers Union)
Outside of the glaring irony of my workplace, I consider there to be a relatively good consistency between my values and my consumption. But the age of the all-purpose discount giant is probably here to stay-do I continue to boycott WalMart while ignoring the injustices of the Big Red Beast, in the name of them being the (slight) lesser of two evils? Perhaps I get a Costco membership: http://www.buyblue.org/detail.php?corpId=17
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Minneapolis Downtown: 16 Pix in 16 Days
My new bus-trip home has a 15 minute layover in Downtown Minneapolis. After not having worked downtown in the past 6 years (and not heading there all that often for other reasons), the first couple times back in the belly of the beast during rush hour felt a little disconcerting. It did not take too long, however, for me to reacclimate to the pulse and the crowds and the cacauphony of architectural styles.
Funny-and kind of sad-I can get off my first bus and wait for the second right across the street from 5th Street Towers. Were Gibbs to still be employed there, we would undoubtedly convene there for brief mischief on a regular basis. Almost in honor of past good times, I started embarking on Skyway Walkin and Street Walkin, seeing how much of this city I can take in each day during those few minutes. What has really struck me in my walks so far is how visually exciting downtown is. As I gazed around, image after image was composing itself in my head for imaginary photos until it hit me-I need to actually take some shots. So, on days when Lucy is at school (cause when she's at home, Sharon reserves the right to keep the digital camera), I'm walking the streets and skyways looking for the perfect shot, with the goal of one keeper per day/walk. This will result in an my ultimate plan of 16 shots in 16 days that will convey my own interpretation of Minneapolis, visually. I got my first one last night.
Not sure yet what the final "presentation" should be-just emailing them out seems a little lame. Maybe publishing them to the web (though I'd have to dumb down the resolution a lot, which I would rather not do). I'm open to suggestions...
Funny-and kind of sad-I can get off my first bus and wait for the second right across the street from 5th Street Towers. Were Gibbs to still be employed there, we would undoubtedly convene there for brief mischief on a regular basis. Almost in honor of past good times, I started embarking on Skyway Walkin and Street Walkin, seeing how much of this city I can take in each day during those few minutes. What has really struck me in my walks so far is how visually exciting downtown is. As I gazed around, image after image was composing itself in my head for imaginary photos until it hit me-I need to actually take some shots. So, on days when Lucy is at school (cause when she's at home, Sharon reserves the right to keep the digital camera), I'm walking the streets and skyways looking for the perfect shot, with the goal of one keeper per day/walk. This will result in an my ultimate plan of 16 shots in 16 days that will convey my own interpretation of Minneapolis, visually. I got my first one last night.
Not sure yet what the final "presentation" should be-just emailing them out seems a little lame. Maybe publishing them to the web (though I'd have to dumb down the resolution a lot, which I would rather not do). I'm open to suggestions...
Monday, May 16, 2005
How To Care for that Precious Little Thing: Part 1
Well, I had a post here previously and then, after some reconsideration, I removed it. It's hard (for me, anyway), to try to put down into words what I think about parenting without coming across as an insufferable, holier-than-thou prick of a parent who lets my kid walk all over me.
Child-rearing and the profound impact a parent's behavior has on their child's development is a subject I feel amazingly passionate about-to the point where I may not be distinguishing the line for tactfulness. I would love and welcome a one on one discussion about the subject, but let me simply say here those few simple concepts that I utterly believe will make all the difference in having a child that is creative, independent of thought, confident, and happy:
1. Be consistent.
2. Validate your child's feelings always.
3. Take great interest in everything your child does.
4. Treat your child as in individual capable of understanding, and deserving of the opportunity to contribute.
5. Be silly!
6. No good will ever come hitting, shaming, or scolding your child.
Child-rearing and the profound impact a parent's behavior has on their child's development is a subject I feel amazingly passionate about-to the point where I may not be distinguishing the line for tactfulness. I would love and welcome a one on one discussion about the subject, but let me simply say here those few simple concepts that I utterly believe will make all the difference in having a child that is creative, independent of thought, confident, and happy:
1. Be consistent.
2. Validate your child's feelings always.
3. Take great interest in everything your child does.
4. Treat your child as in individual capable of understanding, and deserving of the opportunity to contribute.
5. Be silly!
6. No good will ever come hitting, shaming, or scolding your child.
Sunday, May 15, 2005
A Taste of Things to Come (as it were)
Went out to La Casita with Sharon & Lucy tonight-had some good food. I also asked if they had any Mexican imports on tap.
"Just Dos Equis Amber," replied the server
"That sounds great-what sizes do you have?" I queried.
"A regular size and then a large."
"How many ounces is the large?"
"Uh-I'm not sure-it's around (gesturing) this big.."
"That sounds just fine. Bring it on."
It was at least 24 oz., but maybe closer to 30. The draft was cool and inviting as it slid down, and I gotta say-for a guy that can put them away when he has to, I sure do settle into a pleasant buzz after just a couple. I realized that I've not had more than a single beer at a sitting since probably when Cory & I shared a pitcher at Christmastime. And prior to that, it was probably my trip out to Massachusetts last summer. And I think I miss it nearly as much as Mixdorf.
Anyway, I was thinking about the impending visit by my good friend from the East Coast this summer, and just reflecting how we may be unleashed in a somewhat debaucherous manner upon the strange brew each evening during our time together, and the potential of strenuous, peak-performance styled physical activities of the daylight hours, when our mission hit me: We shall have such a mixture of athletic, adventurous achievement and alcohol consumption as to put French Adventure Racing teams to shame.
"Just Dos Equis Amber," replied the server
"That sounds great-what sizes do you have?" I queried.
"A regular size and then a large."
"How many ounces is the large?"
"Uh-I'm not sure-it's around (gesturing) this big.."
"That sounds just fine. Bring it on."
It was at least 24 oz., but maybe closer to 30. The draft was cool and inviting as it slid down, and I gotta say-for a guy that can put them away when he has to, I sure do settle into a pleasant buzz after just a couple. I realized that I've not had more than a single beer at a sitting since probably when Cory & I shared a pitcher at Christmastime. And prior to that, it was probably my trip out to Massachusetts last summer. And I think I miss it nearly as much as Mixdorf.
Anyway, I was thinking about the impending visit by my good friend from the East Coast this summer, and just reflecting how we may be unleashed in a somewhat debaucherous manner upon the strange brew each evening during our time together, and the potential of strenuous, peak-performance styled physical activities of the daylight hours, when our mission hit me: We shall have such a mixture of athletic, adventurous achievement and alcohol consumption as to put French Adventure Racing teams to shame.
Friday, May 13, 2005
He Loves and Hates the Ring, Like He Loves and Hates Himself
So says Gandalf about Gollum, in Fellowship of the Ring.
I can relate-not with respect to myself, but a number of other things in my life.
My Neighborhood
My Job
The Internet
The NBA
Pizza
Politics
Sleep
Relaxation
Rock and Roll
Spending the Night in a Tent
How about anyone else-what do you simultaneously love and hate?
I can relate-not with respect to myself, but a number of other things in my life.
My Neighborhood
My Job
The Internet
The NBA
Pizza
Politics
Sleep
Relaxation
Rock and Roll
Spending the Night in a Tent
How about anyone else-what do you simultaneously love and hate?
That's My Girl
I love my little Lucy!
She is getting to an age where she's really exploring fun, creative verbal stuff. We often get in little exchanges where we go back and forth saying the zaniest thing we can; something like:
Daddy: Well, Lucy, blooba blooba bloo!
Lucy: Well, Daddy, zip zaaaaa zoga!
Daddy: Well, Lucy, nibba nibba flapbbbbbb
Lucy: Well, Daddy, ba ba ba ba wooooo!
and so on...We get laughing so hard we almost fall off our chairs.
Other awesome thing-yesterday she told Sharon she has a sister named "Feaky Bender."
She is getting to an age where she's really exploring fun, creative verbal stuff. We often get in little exchanges where we go back and forth saying the zaniest thing we can; something like:
Daddy: Well, Lucy, blooba blooba bloo!
Lucy: Well, Daddy, zip zaaaaa zoga!
Daddy: Well, Lucy, nibba nibba flapbbbbbb
Lucy: Well, Daddy, ba ba ba ba wooooo!
and so on...We get laughing so hard we almost fall off our chairs.
Other awesome thing-yesterday she told Sharon she has a sister named "Feaky Bender."
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Hardware Wars, The Office, and Netflix vs. The Library
So, there was a 2 for 1 Sunday special at Video Universe when I picked up Motorcycle Diaries the other night. I have long wanted to see the little spoof Hardware Wars, and thought it would be a perfect free little supplement to the evening's cinema feature. Unforunately (and chalk it up as a first) I stumped the best movie rental store in the Twin Cities on that one.
What I ended up picking out was Season 1 (from which I knew I'd only have time for one episode) of "The Office," a British comedy, done documentary-style, about the inner-workings of a dysfunctional office. It was absolutely hilarious-and extremely well-done. Sort of "This is Spinal Tap" in the production, acting, and humour, though a little more subtle. Hard to believe they kept up that level of quality through the remainder of the series (which has at least two seasons under its belt), but word is that they did.
Since Mixdorf decided to go with the Netflix membership, I've been thinking about it myself. I did look at the $9.99 option, though that only allows you to keep a single movie out at a time. You have to be really on the ball about getting the thing back if you want to make that membership worth it. I have also considered just doing a better job of reserving movies I want to see from the library. They don't have the stock nor the selection that Netflix does, but it's free and they have enough of a collection to keep me watching new, quality movies as far into the future as I can imagine (they have, for instance, "The Office"). In either case, it seems like it kind of sucks that you only have a limited amount of control over what you are able to watch at any given time-seeing as you get what's available. Then there's the deal that Sharon & I simply don't end up with that much movie-watching time available to us in a month. Must think a little more.
What I ended up picking out was Season 1 (from which I knew I'd only have time for one episode) of "The Office," a British comedy, done documentary-style, about the inner-workings of a dysfunctional office. It was absolutely hilarious-and extremely well-done. Sort of "This is Spinal Tap" in the production, acting, and humour, though a little more subtle. Hard to believe they kept up that level of quality through the remainder of the series (which has at least two seasons under its belt), but word is that they did.
Since Mixdorf decided to go with the Netflix membership, I've been thinking about it myself. I did look at the $9.99 option, though that only allows you to keep a single movie out at a time. You have to be really on the ball about getting the thing back if you want to make that membership worth it. I have also considered just doing a better job of reserving movies I want to see from the library. They don't have the stock nor the selection that Netflix does, but it's free and they have enough of a collection to keep me watching new, quality movies as far into the future as I can imagine (they have, for instance, "The Office"). In either case, it seems like it kind of sucks that you only have a limited amount of control over what you are able to watch at any given time-seeing as you get what's available. Then there's the deal that Sharon & I simply don't end up with that much movie-watching time available to us in a month. Must think a little more.
Monday, May 09, 2005
(Weekend Musings) The Motorcycle Diaries, Lindenberries, 15 mph, and Other Things
Though not necesarily in that order.
Saw Phantom Menace Friday night in preparation for the upcoming release of Revenge of the Sith. It was not the best, closest, most uninterrupted viewing I'll ever have, but I'm finally quite certain of this: it is definitely a level (or two) below episodes 4 and 5, for sure.
Sharon went camping with Lucy and her cousins and I had the chance to spend Saturday afternoon through Sunday afternoon alone at home-my first night home without Lucy and/or Sharon since Lucy's birth. Kind of wild, and unbelievable how much I got done. From finishing off a brick border to our front bush/planting area, transplanting about 30 ft of wild strawberries in front of our house, mowing, sawing up brush for firewood, and a buttload of stuff inside the house. And I still had time to go sleep in till 9:30 Sunday morning (not sure I've slept past 7:00 in the last year) and go to a local coffeeshop for morning coffee, a leisurely read of The Minneapolis Observer, and a breakfast of waffle with lindenberries.
I also managed to go for a run on both days-first time running around my neighborhood without Lucy in quite a while. It was a rare treat, in the course of each run, to take a little winding half-mile trek through the woods down by the river. It's a cool little diversion that is "off-road" in the truest sense of the word-there's two little spring-fed streams to leap, as well as a couple of giant downed logs (one must be 2 1/2 to 3 feet to clear), and one other spot where you must leap atop a log and run along it for about 20 ft. Basically a lot of fun. As I was heading down my street for the final half-block, I did my usual kick into full spring mode. Then, when I stopped, a van pulled up beside me and a guy told me he clocked me at 15 mph. Not too shabby.
Last night, as part of celebration for Mothers' Day, we watching 'The Motorcycle Diaries,' which Sharon had wanted to see for a long time. It was good-possibly very good. Sharon did like it a little more than me, though I think in another time, in another mood I could have been really really taken with it. Basically, the story of Che Ernesto Guevara (a Argentine guy who became a human rights activist) during the part of his life in which he discovers some of the injustices that people in South America face that compel him to this higher calling. But the story itself (as the movie states a couple of times) is not about heroic deeds. Ernesto (who is a semester from graduating medical school) takes off on a road trip with a friend, intending to go all the way down the South American coast from Buenos Aires, up the other side all the way to Caracas, all while riding double on a shitty old motorcycle called "The Mighty One." I will say the authenticity of people they meet along the way is absolutely amazing, as is the scenery. Would definitely recommend going in "the queue," Mixxy & AJ.
Saw Phantom Menace Friday night in preparation for the upcoming release of Revenge of the Sith. It was not the best, closest, most uninterrupted viewing I'll ever have, but I'm finally quite certain of this: it is definitely a level (or two) below episodes 4 and 5, for sure.
Sharon went camping with Lucy and her cousins and I had the chance to spend Saturday afternoon through Sunday afternoon alone at home-my first night home without Lucy and/or Sharon since Lucy's birth. Kind of wild, and unbelievable how much I got done. From finishing off a brick border to our front bush/planting area, transplanting about 30 ft of wild strawberries in front of our house, mowing, sawing up brush for firewood, and a buttload of stuff inside the house. And I still had time to go sleep in till 9:30 Sunday morning (not sure I've slept past 7:00 in the last year) and go to a local coffeeshop for morning coffee, a leisurely read of The Minneapolis Observer, and a breakfast of waffle with lindenberries.
I also managed to go for a run on both days-first time running around my neighborhood without Lucy in quite a while. It was a rare treat, in the course of each run, to take a little winding half-mile trek through the woods down by the river. It's a cool little diversion that is "off-road" in the truest sense of the word-there's two little spring-fed streams to leap, as well as a couple of giant downed logs (one must be 2 1/2 to 3 feet to clear), and one other spot where you must leap atop a log and run along it for about 20 ft. Basically a lot of fun. As I was heading down my street for the final half-block, I did my usual kick into full spring mode. Then, when I stopped, a van pulled up beside me and a guy told me he clocked me at 15 mph. Not too shabby.
Last night, as part of celebration for Mothers' Day, we watching 'The Motorcycle Diaries,' which Sharon had wanted to see for a long time. It was good-possibly very good. Sharon did like it a little more than me, though I think in another time, in another mood I could have been really really taken with it. Basically, the story of Che Ernesto Guevara (a Argentine guy who became a human rights activist) during the part of his life in which he discovers some of the injustices that people in South America face that compel him to this higher calling. But the story itself (as the movie states a couple of times) is not about heroic deeds. Ernesto (who is a semester from graduating medical school) takes off on a road trip with a friend, intending to go all the way down the South American coast from Buenos Aires, up the other side all the way to Caracas, all while riding double on a shitty old motorcycle called "The Mighty One." I will say the authenticity of people they meet along the way is absolutely amazing, as is the scenery. Would definitely recommend going in "the queue," Mixxy & AJ.
Friday, May 06, 2005
The Culture of Loud
This is a subject which I have been interested in discussing for some time (and may have touched on in past conversations with friends), but have only now decided to tackle via blog/brief essay. One reason I have not gotten into it much before now is that my first inclination was that I was treading in some dangerous waters, as far as cultural sensitivity is concerned. But I no longer think that's the case.
I have long considered myself a proponent of diversity; the idea that all of our different backgrounds and worldviews can combine to make a more interesting and, ulimately, better whole. What that presupposes, however, is that we all have a common vision of good. Of course, good-hearted people all DO share values of personal safety, low crime, etc. But I have only recently begin to really realize just how many aspects which I consider part of the "quality of life" equation are not necessarily common at all. In terms of where you actually make your residence, the title of this piece becomes quite an issue.
I suspect I'm not alone in this, but I have a tendency, when hearing a "boom car" (of which there are many in my neighborhood), to visualize the driver as someone "marking a statement." Sort of a "tell me to turn it down, I dare you!" sort of attitude. Maybe some rebellious act by a teenager, or some nose-thumbing by someone who thinks they've been done wrong by society. But I'm not so sure that's the case anymore. People like me (affiliated very loosely as, say, the "Culture of Quiet") may consider these "offenders" as as deviants to this general consensus of societal decorum. But I gotta say-the noise from these cars is so regular that the concept of them representing only a disaffected segment of society is just not one I buy anymore. At what point does a behavior become so prevalent as to become the cultural norm; or, if not the norm, as least an accepted backdrop to everyday life? These people cannot be judged as deviants, or even as people with some purposeful intent to invade my space. I know some of my neighbors personally who fit right in the "loud" category, and they are not particularly bitter or angry about anything (in fact, often quite the opposite) And it's not just the cars. We hear phone conversations through the walls of their house and on in through the walls of our house. Walk out their front walk talking loudly on cell phones. They come home loud, late at night. They leave loudly in the morning. And when their friends come to visit, they stride out into the middle of the street and greet them loudly while blocking traffic in the middle of the street, and revving their engines loudly. This is the city. You wouldn't expect to live without the buzz of people or the constant drone of cars if you lived in a New York City condo. Sure, Minneapolis ain't NYC, but it is a city. I simply live on a urban, residential street. At what point do I actually just up and realize that those sounds ARE the background sounds of life if I choose to live in a neighborhood like this?
Do I have to like it or even learn to live with it? Hell, no! It's the old "if you don't like what's on TV, turn the channel." I can choose to live in a place where others share my values, provided I can find one. In my ideal environment, neighbors know one another, genuinely like & trust one another, and greet each other with a smile. They also have an appreciation of a blessed quiet drifting on the breeze through an open window on a summer evening.
As I mentioned at the beginning, I was a little afraid to tackle this subject-racial overtones or undertones? God knows the white-dominated suburbs have their own "Culture of Loud": blaring gas-powered lawn care devices and the drone of power tools from every garage. I've been reasonably content in my neighborhood for seven years, but I don't think I could last one week in Woodbury without beginning to climb the walls, so great would be the cultural differences. So actually the COL correlation probably has more to do with socio-economic status. In any event, I'd rather chalk it up to lifestyle. People that are content to live like that simply have a different notion of what constitutes quality of life. No longer feeling as though there's a problem that needs fixed, or as though I have a duty to judge what it going on around me has led to a certain peace about this whole subject. I've been saying along that I prefer to move because of what opportunities are there in the new locale, not because I am running away from anything. If I am, indeed, going to take my leave of the city (the direction to which I am now-and perhaps finally-leaning), I wish to do it in peace and without any resentment. I definitely feel as though this is a bold step in that direction.
I have long considered myself a proponent of diversity; the idea that all of our different backgrounds and worldviews can combine to make a more interesting and, ulimately, better whole. What that presupposes, however, is that we all have a common vision of good. Of course, good-hearted people all DO share values of personal safety, low crime, etc. But I have only recently begin to really realize just how many aspects which I consider part of the "quality of life" equation are not necessarily common at all. In terms of where you actually make your residence, the title of this piece becomes quite an issue.
I suspect I'm not alone in this, but I have a tendency, when hearing a "boom car" (of which there are many in my neighborhood), to visualize the driver as someone "marking a statement." Sort of a "tell me to turn it down, I dare you!" sort of attitude. Maybe some rebellious act by a teenager, or some nose-thumbing by someone who thinks they've been done wrong by society. But I'm not so sure that's the case anymore. People like me (affiliated very loosely as, say, the "Culture of Quiet") may consider these "offenders" as as deviants to this general consensus of societal decorum. But I gotta say-the noise from these cars is so regular that the concept of them representing only a disaffected segment of society is just not one I buy anymore. At what point does a behavior become so prevalent as to become the cultural norm; or, if not the norm, as least an accepted backdrop to everyday life? These people cannot be judged as deviants, or even as people with some purposeful intent to invade my space. I know some of my neighbors personally who fit right in the "loud" category, and they are not particularly bitter or angry about anything (in fact, often quite the opposite) And it's not just the cars. We hear phone conversations through the walls of their house and on in through the walls of our house. Walk out their front walk talking loudly on cell phones. They come home loud, late at night. They leave loudly in the morning. And when their friends come to visit, they stride out into the middle of the street and greet them loudly while blocking traffic in the middle of the street, and revving their engines loudly. This is the city. You wouldn't expect to live without the buzz of people or the constant drone of cars if you lived in a New York City condo. Sure, Minneapolis ain't NYC, but it is a city. I simply live on a urban, residential street. At what point do I actually just up and realize that those sounds ARE the background sounds of life if I choose to live in a neighborhood like this?
Do I have to like it or even learn to live with it? Hell, no! It's the old "if you don't like what's on TV, turn the channel." I can choose to live in a place where others share my values, provided I can find one. In my ideal environment, neighbors know one another, genuinely like & trust one another, and greet each other with a smile. They also have an appreciation of a blessed quiet drifting on the breeze through an open window on a summer evening.
As I mentioned at the beginning, I was a little afraid to tackle this subject-racial overtones or undertones? God knows the white-dominated suburbs have their own "Culture of Loud": blaring gas-powered lawn care devices and the drone of power tools from every garage. I've been reasonably content in my neighborhood for seven years, but I don't think I could last one week in Woodbury without beginning to climb the walls, so great would be the cultural differences. So actually the COL correlation probably has more to do with socio-economic status. In any event, I'd rather chalk it up to lifestyle. People that are content to live like that simply have a different notion of what constitutes quality of life. No longer feeling as though there's a problem that needs fixed, or as though I have a duty to judge what it going on around me has led to a certain peace about this whole subject. I've been saying along that I prefer to move because of what opportunities are there in the new locale, not because I am running away from anything. If I am, indeed, going to take my leave of the city (the direction to which I am now-and perhaps finally-leaning), I wish to do it in peace and without any resentment. I definitely feel as though this is a bold step in that direction.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Sorry for the Couple of Activist Posts
I promise I'll be back to the mundane in short order, but...another issue that I could not ignore.
So, in an "action notice" I received from a progressive political organization with which I am affiliated, I just read this:
On Sunday morning, Christian Coalition founder Pat Robertson told TV viewers nation-wide that the threat posed by liberal judges is "probably more serious than a few bearded terrorists who fly into buildings." When an incredulous George Stephanopoulos asked if Robertson really believed that these judges posed "the most serious threat America has faced in nearly 400 years of history, more serious than al Qaeda, more serious than Nazi Germany and Japan, more serious than the Civil War?," he responded, "George, I really believe that."
So...all this hatred, fear mongering, and activism...all on behalf of what? 2 things: The ability for same-sex couples to marry, and abortion rights. This is what reality-based people in this country are up against-a vociferous and maddeningly effective group of nutcases that are out to impose their morality on the rest of the world, and for whom no tactic is over the line. Boy, I sure like Christianity, such as it was conceived. But for anyone who wonders what has driven me away from the church in recent years, look no further. There's nothing Christian about hate, lies, and bigotry.
So, in an "action notice" I received from a progressive political organization with which I am affiliated, I just read this:
On Sunday morning, Christian Coalition founder Pat Robertson told TV viewers nation-wide that the threat posed by liberal judges is "probably more serious than a few bearded terrorists who fly into buildings." When an incredulous George Stephanopoulos asked if Robertson really believed that these judges posed "the most serious threat America has faced in nearly 400 years of history, more serious than al Qaeda, more serious than Nazi Germany and Japan, more serious than the Civil War?," he responded, "George, I really believe that."
So...all this hatred, fear mongering, and activism...all on behalf of what? 2 things: The ability for same-sex couples to marry, and abortion rights. This is what reality-based people in this country are up against-a vociferous and maddeningly effective group of nutcases that are out to impose their morality on the rest of the world, and for whom no tactic is over the line. Boy, I sure like Christianity, such as it was conceived. But for anyone who wonders what has driven me away from the church in recent years, look no further. There's nothing Christian about hate, lies, and bigotry.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
If This Doesn't Motivate You Against G.W. Bush, Nothing Will
Plan to log Sequoia National Monument. Jesus Christ, please give to the Sierra Club NOW.
http://www.sierraclub.org/wildlands/wildlandsatrisk/sequoia.asp
http://www.sierraclub.org/wildlands/wildlandsatrisk/sequoia.asp
Exasperation, Then Levity
Here where I work there's these banks of computers where these guys are working on store interior autocad stuff. Kind of in their own little world, hunkered down there, but I pass by on my way to the fridge/microwave area, so I sort of half-see them on a daily basis.
This one guy has a poster of a Hummer on his cube wall. Nothing else on his walls. Just the poster. Let me repeat: A poster of a Hummer. These guys aren't top brass or anything; I wouldn't think this guy would make anywhere near the amount needed to buy a vehicle like that, so it must be one of two things: Unable to afford it, he simply idolizes it, which is sickness at some level that I can't begin to comprehend. Perhaps every penny he can scrape up is used to pay for it, so keen is his intent on the status and self-esteem boost that it bestows upon its owner. I guess a third possibility is that his significant other's salary is huge. That's almost the sickest case of all-he's a sugar daddy that prefers a picture of goods to a picture of his wife.
This guy is my nemesis, though he doesn't know it. It's not a serious deal-I only really give it a thought when I pass by (or right now as I'm typing), but the issues of environmentalism, commercialism, greed, power-struggle, and status are so embodied by that monstrosity, that my only conclusion of those who choose to buy it is that they are either unbelievably ignorant or unbelievably selfish.
So there it is-that little dark spot in my walk to the common area every day. I started wondering if it was just a little conclave of assholes-my attitude about that whole area started to escalate. Funny, though; a couple days ago, there I am passing along and seeing it once again, staring right back at my from the wall opposite the cube entrance, and then I see it: in the next cube over, in the cube of his neighbor. The guy had apparently just stepped away, as his monitor was still fired up and not in a screensaver mode. His desktop: The Bridge of the NCC-1701.
This one guy has a poster of a Hummer on his cube wall. Nothing else on his walls. Just the poster. Let me repeat: A poster of a Hummer. These guys aren't top brass or anything; I wouldn't think this guy would make anywhere near the amount needed to buy a vehicle like that, so it must be one of two things: Unable to afford it, he simply idolizes it, which is sickness at some level that I can't begin to comprehend. Perhaps every penny he can scrape up is used to pay for it, so keen is his intent on the status and self-esteem boost that it bestows upon its owner. I guess a third possibility is that his significant other's salary is huge. That's almost the sickest case of all-he's a sugar daddy that prefers a picture of goods to a picture of his wife.
This guy is my nemesis, though he doesn't know it. It's not a serious deal-I only really give it a thought when I pass by (or right now as I'm typing), but the issues of environmentalism, commercialism, greed, power-struggle, and status are so embodied by that monstrosity, that my only conclusion of those who choose to buy it is that they are either unbelievably ignorant or unbelievably selfish.
So there it is-that little dark spot in my walk to the common area every day. I started wondering if it was just a little conclave of assholes-my attitude about that whole area started to escalate. Funny, though; a couple days ago, there I am passing along and seeing it once again, staring right back at my from the wall opposite the cube entrance, and then I see it: in the next cube over, in the cube of his neighbor. The guy had apparently just stepped away, as his monitor was still fired up and not in a screensaver mode. His desktop: The Bridge of the NCC-1701.
Monday, May 02, 2005
King Leo and the Vector King?
For the last couple of Saturdays, Sharon & I have gone to the coffee shop down the street to watch this jazz pianist, "King Leo." He is one of those musicians that can't read music, but uses popular music songbooks that have chords literally written above the notation; then he just improvises and fills in the measures how he feels-only very loosely following the original arrangement. He's quite amazing at what he does-very fast, very free, and with an incredible autonomy between his two hands.
Hardly anyone's there to see him-he plays from 4-6 as a "talent show," where neighborhood kids get up and sing along. Then, from 6-8 he plays more of a set. A lot of old-school r&b and Mowtown songs-stuff I really like. We also found out just this last weekend that (unles he's lying) he is one of the original members of the Ohio Players. Whoa! And here he is now, playing for 5-7 people on a Saturday night in a coffee shop.
Anyway, the guy's around 60 years old, recently (about 3 weeks ago) relocated to the Twin Cities, and now he wants to make a go of it in the music business once again. But he doesn't have a clue what he needs to do. And if he has any interest in making it in music, he started a conversation that night with exactly the wrong person. When he found out I was a musician and had played there a couple of times, he started asking me questions. I did tell him to check out clubs in the City Pages, and that a good place to start (especially with his talent and style) would be the Freight House-a place downtown with a semblance of a regular audience.
Then the funny thing happened. The previous week, just to see how good he was, I had asked him if he could play Bill Withers' "Use Me" (one of my favorite songs). It took him only about eight seconds of experimenting around before he had it-then he started trying to get me to sing. I simply didn't know the words, so I declined. But this last Saturday, he kept asking me again to get up there to sing. He was playing "Son of a Preacher Man." I was finally like, "What the hell?" and I went up to try. Unfortunately, I quickly realized that I only knew how the chorus went, so that first attempt went awry. Then he started playing "Unchained Melody," and asked me if I could do that. I felt a little foolish, but launched into it. Apparently, this was his way of staging a tryout. From that point on, he was trying to convince me to join up with him, saying that he can play and play, but what he really needs is a guy that can sing along with him. He said, "a lot of white guys don't sing like that-you've got a lot of soul." Kind of funny-to extract that from my little nervous experiment. The guy is funky and old school, but he might also be completely and certifiably insane.
Still-I must confess being tempted. I've always had this keen, keen desire to sing r&b songs, but the chords are always f*d-up 7ths, 9ths, and diminishes. Crazy stuff that would require bending my guitar fingers in places they can't go. Better for keyboards. But this is also a perfect opportunity for me to fight against one of my greatest weaknesses, which is to have 20 ongoing creative projects, only one or two of which I have time for in actuality. He thinks we'd only need to get together a couple of times to practice, but I think I'm just going to have to say no.
Hardly anyone's there to see him-he plays from 4-6 as a "talent show," where neighborhood kids get up and sing along. Then, from 6-8 he plays more of a set. A lot of old-school r&b and Mowtown songs-stuff I really like. We also found out just this last weekend that (unles he's lying) he is one of the original members of the Ohio Players. Whoa! And here he is now, playing for 5-7 people on a Saturday night in a coffee shop.
Anyway, the guy's around 60 years old, recently (about 3 weeks ago) relocated to the Twin Cities, and now he wants to make a go of it in the music business once again. But he doesn't have a clue what he needs to do. And if he has any interest in making it in music, he started a conversation that night with exactly the wrong person. When he found out I was a musician and had played there a couple of times, he started asking me questions. I did tell him to check out clubs in the City Pages, and that a good place to start (especially with his talent and style) would be the Freight House-a place downtown with a semblance of a regular audience.
Then the funny thing happened. The previous week, just to see how good he was, I had asked him if he could play Bill Withers' "Use Me" (one of my favorite songs). It took him only about eight seconds of experimenting around before he had it-then he started trying to get me to sing. I simply didn't know the words, so I declined. But this last Saturday, he kept asking me again to get up there to sing. He was playing "Son of a Preacher Man." I was finally like, "What the hell?" and I went up to try. Unfortunately, I quickly realized that I only knew how the chorus went, so that first attempt went awry. Then he started playing "Unchained Melody," and asked me if I could do that. I felt a little foolish, but launched into it. Apparently, this was his way of staging a tryout. From that point on, he was trying to convince me to join up with him, saying that he can play and play, but what he really needs is a guy that can sing along with him. He said, "a lot of white guys don't sing like that-you've got a lot of soul." Kind of funny-to extract that from my little nervous experiment. The guy is funky and old school, but he might also be completely and certifiably insane.
Still-I must confess being tempted. I've always had this keen, keen desire to sing r&b songs, but the chords are always f*d-up 7ths, 9ths, and diminishes. Crazy stuff that would require bending my guitar fingers in places they can't go. Better for keyboards. But this is also a perfect opportunity for me to fight against one of my greatest weaknesses, which is to have 20 ongoing creative projects, only one or two of which I have time for in actuality. He thinks we'd only need to get together a couple of times to practice, but I think I'm just going to have to say no.
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