www.yourmusic.com

Well, I went back and forth on this, and finally took the plunge. The inventory is not as large or diverse as I would like, but as there is a complete an exhaustive discography for some artists (Paul Simon, Led Zepplin) and an absolute dearth for others (Donovan, Bob Dylan), I believe they are in the process of building up the service.

Think of it like Netflix, but instead of DVDs it's music CDs. And instead of renting, you're buying. You create a queue, and they automatically send you a disc once a month for-get this-$5.99 including shipping. It's nuts. Like I said, the selection does not afford you the opportunity to experiment with truly independent artists and other such obscure fare, but as long as there are albums in the mainstream realm you still want, it's a deal that seems to be absolutely unbeatable. The way I'm going to work it (using my one new album-per-paycheck system) is to let them ship me the next album in my queue each month, and experiment with artists not available through yourmusic on the off-week cycle.

My current queue:

Paul Simon Hearts And Bones (Expanded & Remastered)
This album is being prepared for shipment. ( In-stock items usually ship within 72 hours of Your Music Date. )

The Who Tommy (Remastered)
09/29/05

Willie Nelson Yesterday's Wine (Remastered)
10/29/05

Beck Odelay
11/29/05

Led Zeppelin Houses Of The Holy (Remastered)
12/29/05

Paul Simon One Trick Pony (Expanded & Remastered)
01/29/06

Willie Nelson Shotgun Willie

Anyway, happy to make a recommendation on what seems to be a great deal. Check it out.

Movie Recommendation: The Shootist

John Wayne (in his final film)
Lauren Bacall
Ron Howard
James Stewart
Harry Morgan
Hugh O'Brian

A character study, actually. John Wayne plays an aging gunfighter (a term, you learn in a special feature, which was actually not used in "the day;" hence, The Shootist) who learns he is terminally ill and seeks a quiet place to live out his days. Trouble follows him there, of course.

Anyway, some really good performances and a nice twist on the classic Western. I rented the movie thinking it would be one Sharon wouldn't particularly care to see and which I could watch after she went to bed. She was in & out of the room and taking care of some things before hitting the sack, but slowly got kind of sucked in. Though she knows who John Wayne is, she didn't really understand his status in the pantheon of American cinema. I was sort of trying to explain that; and also trying to explain how the genre of Western, which on the surface is essentially different variations of the same movie, warrants its own status as a uniquely American art form. Then it struck me-The Aristocrats. That movie, if you know or recall, is about two hours of every comedian under the sun telling the same vulgar joke, but with each one doing it in their own style, adding their own art and just going with it. I have not seen that movie but I defniitely plan to. It's all about admiration of the craft. and is very analagous to the craft of The Western (that of the directors such as George Siegel & John Ford, and the delivery of actors such as Wayne, Gary Cooper, or Randolph Scott).

Caution: Harry Potter Spoiler!

So, I pulled a "Mixdorf." I read the 700+ page Half-Blood Prince, starting on Sunday and finishing last night. While I have said that I like the series a lot, I have claimed to maybe be not quite the fan that some of my closest friends & associates are. But, man, I sure do get glued to those suckers when I read through them.

My random ruminations, following the HBP:
- What an amazing, amazing kid Harry is (in a non-magical sense, that is)
- I think one of the things that makes me think I like the series a little less than some people is that I really do get annoyed at some of the lack of depth of some characters and the repeating themes (OK, do we really believe that Hermione's going to still raise her hand first in every class and that Ron's going to still pester her about it, etc.).
- Good Lord, these last couple of books have been dark & heavy. Not sure I would want Lucy reading this before she's at least 10 or so, unless I really, really get the sense she's ready to handle the weight of some of the seriously bad shit that goes on in there.
- Related to the last couple of items-seems like Rowling can't really decide whether she wants this to be children's literature or not. Sometimes obvious & somewhat shallow humour, as well as the shallow characters can be attributed as being very enjoyable for kids (especialy with respect to how lots of them view adults), but with the adult sort of themes that I spoke to in my last point-I just don't know. Seems like a little bit of trying to have it both ways. * Sigh * maybe I'm just out of touch with respect to how desensitized most kids are these days. But I had a distinctly similar feeling while reading various books of the Redwall series (of which only the first I would truly, truly recommend). Cute little anthropomorphic animal characters making mincemeat of each other in bloody battles, throughout.
- Really interesting buildup in the book. To date, neither Harry nor Dumbledore had ever been wrong in their suspicions, and it was interesting reading to know that ultimately someone would be wrong on Snape.
- God DAMN Snape! God DAMN him to Hell! He's definitely not going to survive this series, and I think it's probably You-Know-Who who's going to do him in in a final act of treachery (ala the Teacher killing that servant guy in DaVinci Code). He reminds me of a terrorist-he had what looks to be a miserable childhood with lots of things working against him, but that's no excuse for going bad.
- Why does Harry have to break up with Ginny, if he's at least that close with Ron & Hermione. Not sure that's made clear. I would think Ginny could hook up with them and make it a four person team, going forward.
- Hard to believe that Snape got away from Buckbeak.
- Would like to see Firenze & maybe some of the other centaurs get involved. Though I realize they generally despize the wizarding world, it would be a little like, "The eagles are coming!"
- Not sure I'd want to be a Death Eater that runs into Harry next book.
- Kind of interesting the turn on Malfoy at the end. There's no reason to believe, up to that point, that there's a shred of good in him. Wonder if she (Rowling) has grand plans for him in the future, is just using him as an example of Voldemort's villany, or if she just wanted to sort of diminish him as a major player in the series.
- It's gonna be quite different, knowing what we know about Snape, reading through the books again someday. Holy shit. And, as much as we hate him-you gotta think he's one of the most powerful wizards around.
- How many Aurors are there? In the teens, in the hundreds, or what? Likewise, how many Death Eaters? They don't give you much of an idea of the scope of this war, but you definitely see the same characters, particularly on the good side, appearing over and over.
- Sirius & Dumbledore are gone, gone, gone, right?
- Any theories on who R.A.B. is?

A Simple Desultory Philharmonic (Or How I Have Robert McNamara'd Sharon & Lucy into Omission)

Yesterday was Sharon's & my eighth anniversary. With all the talk of politics, potential moves from my home, and artistic preferences, Sharon and Lucy definitely both get under-represented in this forum, relative to their actual importance in my day-to-day life.

I was thinking about that recently, too. I could have an entire blog devoted purely to the my observations of Lucy-both her development and also just the funny things she does & says every day. To read my blog, it would be easy to get the impression that I'm quite an uninvolved father, when in fact there is not almost never a waking moment she spends at home (with the exception of her bedtime ritual with Sharon every other night), when her influence is not pervasive in all that I do. It can be a little frustrating when I can't accomplish an agenda, but for the most part there is joy, love, and laughs.

As for Sharon, what can I say? Over the past 8 years of marriage (and-what-12 years since I've know her? Jesus...) she has been a better partner than I ever could have ever hoped for. As I have continued down a road of trying to find my place and simple preferences in this world, she has been by my side, curious and similarly questing for that which life has to teach us, endlessly supportive in my endeavors, rejoicing my (relatively few) differences with her, and diving with me headlong into exploring that for which we share a common interest. And finally, and perhaps most importantly, sharing a simple, common vision of what is good and right in the world. Thanks, my wife! I love you!!!!!!

On a side note, our celebration was improvised last night. Helen watched Lucy while we just headed to Uptown to see what was going. Our evening pretty much consisted of eating at a new Indian restaurant, then having tea and playing cribbage. We laughed about how our evening was the perfect model for the "5 Blind Men and the Elephant" tale. Depending on who you asked, here's what they could have said about our evening.

1. They ate foreign food in Uptown then hung out in Tea Room listening to trance & trip-hop music.
2. They went out for dinner at this expensive restaurant and then drank tea.
3. After dinner they drank tea and played cribbage, and were home before 10.
4. They drove their Kerry-Edwards bumper stickered Corolla to Uptown, ate Indian food, and drank English tea.
5. They drove their car to this trendy part of town, had dinner and drinks, and then drove home.
6. Before and after dinner, they walked at least a mile, pausing at one point to look in a runnin-apparel store.
and so on and so on...

There and Back Again (and I'm not talking Terre Haute)

In these troubled times, I turned to an old friend-The Hobbit. I read it in within the last week and, as a rumination, here are three lines (among many, many more, of course) that really struck me-perhaps made better within context, but I will only provide very brief excerpts:

1. (Bilbo, when lost in the dark depths of the Misty Mountains)
After a time, he felt for his pipe. It was not broken, and that was something. Then he feld for his pouch, and there was some tobacco in it, and that was something more.
(just a very small bit of excellent writing-how, in a world with an immense scale of events, he can draw out examples of how these quaint Hobbit folk really go for the simple pleasures. I love the image.)

2. (sung by the elves in Rivendell-actually, the entire song-many verses-really resonated with me, and I choose this particular one rather arbitrarily)
...Here grass is still growing,
And leaves are yet swinging,
The white water flowing,
The elves are yet singing
Come! Tra-la-la-lally!
Come back to the valley!
(what can I say, but "Zephyr?")

3. (spoken by Thorin on his death bed)
If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.
(pretty much sums up, in 19 words, everything that's wrong with that world, and our world)

Damn, Just a Few Months Too Late!

Boy, ever since the presidential election, GW & Co have just made one political misstep after another. I do believe that they are losing the hearts and minds of America. The various conservative mouthpieces are no longer putting a palatable spin on their adjenda. To middle-America, the concert of attacks launched against anyone who does not support the Republican administration now just seems radical & mean. The shift in power is neither a question of if nor when. There will be a massive upheaval in '06. The only thing I regret is that it does not co-incide with the next presidential election. Well, that & the fact that it will be our country's referendum on the current state of affairs, rather than a true populist revolution.

Haute Couteur

Well, I'm back, and the Juggernaut was a great host.

A lot can be misconstrued and misinterpreted through emails & phone conversation, so it was really nice to be able to see him in his current environment and get his life-vibe. I must say, I was really happy and somewhat surprised to see the contentment & peace he seems to have found with the city of Terre Haute. The work they've had done on the home is extraordinary and, while perhaps they don't have the financial power of equity they might have had before moving in, the man is living in what could easily be described (by someone like me, anyway) as a "dream house." Backed up against a woodsy area with an almost deafening (yet pleasingly so) sound of birds & cicadas, and with comfortable furnishings & amenities (including a Bathtub of the Gods, gas fireplace, tocatta(?) stone breakfast table, and TLOR-friendly HDTV), he has really managed to secure himself a homey, comfortable, and peaceful place in which to read, write, sing, dance, feast, or do any combination of the above.

Extraordinary were the number of hours during which I was cornered in various areas of the dwelling, having the specifics of the remodeling process explained. But it was all good, and there was drinking (of both local and English brews), watching ST, talking, breakfasting, supping, frisbee golfing (one round of which was entirely "Rohan-run"), hiking, playing with Molly (who was great), and studying Geography. Also, in a surprise, a little filming; of which I will say no more at this time.

I have a sneaking suspicion that Waterloo is not the bleak, amenity-free town we remember of our youth. City planners there (as well as in most other similarly-sized towns in this country) have discovered the necessity of biking paths; small pockets of the culturally-starved have created a need for a local funky coffee shop or two; and various other pieces of what people like us consider necessary for "quality of life" have come about in varying degrees, however small. It's just a matter of finding your little niches and exploiting them. Terre Haute was no exception. We got coffee at the "Java Haute," we explored the Dobbs Park Nature Center, I tasted a 6-draft-beer sampler at the historical restaurant, Maugers(sp?). Gibbs, I am happy to say, seems to have been exploiting them more than we might have guessed. Again, I was a little surprised to see how, in the time since working at the Tribune-Star, our friend is actually feeling a lot better about where he is, the decision he made in moving, and the future than we might have expected. Made a great weekend all the better.

On a side not, our dog is still around, still wagging and responsive. She's getting injected with 500ml of fluid a day, and crapping/pissing all over the floor every night.

Not Yet

Well, the advice we got from our vet and a few people who were familiar with the scenario of having to let a pet go was, "You'll know when..."

We had just finished a last consultation with our vet where we had overcome some final indecisiveness and made plans for a home visit for euthanasia the next morning at 9:00. However, when we got home, Kuña'i was about as waggy, energetic, and responsive as she had been for at least a week. She must have responded really well to the fluids we've been giving her for the past few days. And if we were going by the "we'll know when it's time" theory, we had a sudden and definite feeling that she was telling us it wasn't time yet. For many pets, suffering through some sort of painful illness (and of sound mind), you hear that they sort of reach a point where they decide they need to go, and they just sort of shut down. But our dog is such a difficult read (how do you know if her indifference and listlessness is just her dementia or weakness and toxicity). Even so, though, I swear we can get no indication at all she is in any kind of discomfort. And we don't want it to get to that point-so we're definitely not going to do anything aggressive, invasive, or that can't be administered at home in terms of medication, but we're just going to go for a few more days till it seems that she is not responding to the fluids we are giving her. At a first sign of any suffering, or a couple of days in which she just is not responsive, we will be ready to put her down.

It was definitely a weird night-we've had a very thorough sort of process of having our "last" of everything and making sure we were giving her a proper send-off. The timing was all planned-I was taking the day off today and Sharon was going to be busy with various friends over the next few days while I visited Terre Haute. But "our girl" had different plans, I guess. I'm feeling so much better-I think I was (since the diagnosis was so sudden) being overwhelmed and stressed out to the point where I didn't know if I was making an objective decision (about the "when" part). And Sharon was worse off than me. But I have a really collected and good (as good as one can feel in this situation, of course) feeling about how we're proceeding now. A few more days for Kuña'i to experience the simple pleasures of this life before we can let her go in peace.

On a side note-Cory called yesterday with some words of comfort related to heaven and knowing that she'd be waiting there. I definitely don't tend to think of "heaven"-related things in very specific or cut & dry terms, but I did have this thought concerning the place:

There is really no question as to whether all dogs go to heaven; for it to fit the definition of the place, we must assume that dogs are somehow part of it.

Tagged!

Ugh-one that's all about books. Am I alone in the fact that I rarely (like really rarely) buy books? I'm a library or loan-from-friends guy.

Nevertheless, I will attempt to answer the best I can:

Number of books I own:
I'm with Aaron; this is kind of a ridiculous question. I own books from my childhood, some textbooks, some field guides, some travel guide books, some philosophy-oriented books, and just a few works of fiction (most of which were inhereted from my my mom, who is one of the most prolific readers I have ever known).

Last book I bought: Goodnight, Groundhog! (for Lucy) That reminds me, lame children's literature is one of my great annoyances. There's sooo many wonderful books out there, that there's really no excuse for having crap in your child's collection. Anyone interested in a few recommendations, I'd be more than happy to pass them along.

books I am reading: Currently: Prairy Erth, by William Least Heat Moon and (once again-I know, I'm nuts) There And Back Again, a Hobbit's Tale.

Last book I read (and have finished): Does McElligot's Pool by Dr. Suess count?

Five Books that mean a lot to me: Lord of the Rings, Prairy Erth, Walden, The Lorax, and Guess How Much I Love You?

I've no one left to tag. I could tag Cory, but he neither reads nor is currently posting.

Loki

I'm trying to spend as much time as I can with Kuña-i and keep her as comfortable as possible without demanding too much effort on her part and without letting myself slip into a spiral of moroseness and dispair. Last night, I got another MST3K episode and a 6-pack of Scapegoat Pale Ale (good, this) and situated her next to me on the couch for a couple of hours. It was nice; our best times, whether spooning in bed or me napping with her chin on my shoulder, have always been long periods of simple skin-to-fur contact. Mix that in with some intermittant petting & scratching in her favorite places and some occasional utterances of "my girl" and "sweetie," and you have some of the moments I'll most remember & cherish.

They injected an entire liter of fluid into her yesterday, which was absorbed almost immediately. She definitely looks and feels better after those treatments, but the rate at which she is going through the fluid is extraordinary. It means she's not taking in much fluid or nutrients through other, preferable, sources. And nothing's getting processed by her kidneys-so many of the nutrients (especially potassium) that she takes in are just getting peed out. Sharon will administer 500 ml of injections over each of the next couple of days, and we will be taking her in to be euthanized Thursday morning.

Sharon & I are each planning to have a talk with her & make sure things aren't left unsaid. Well, a few things were left unsaid last night, as she got up midway through my teary-eyed delivery and walked away. I'm hoping her reaction was as a result of her dementia and not so much a message about my long-windedness. Anyway, finishing that talk will remain my highest priority in the remaining time.

Still Working on Cracking the Tea Equation

Still doesn't make sense that I don't like tea. I'm trying again, this time focusing on more traditional teas (Green Tea, Earl Grey, etc.), rather than the non-caffeinated herbal variety.

Do I have British roots or not? It's time to step up to the plate.

Green tea, as it so happens, is my first foray. It is steeping as I type.

A Bittersweet Weekend

So, as you have probably heard (since there are only two of you), Kuña-i was diagnosed on Friday with chronic kidney failure. Left untreated, she would die within a week; and with expensive, intensive treatment we could slow her descent for a month or two. Unless we have a change of plans following a visit to the vet today, we will be giving her fluids intravenously and making her as comfortable as possible until Thursday morning, when we are planning to have her put to sleep.

Although there's a lot of second-guessing and feelings of guilt, I'm pretty sure that I don't want to extend a period of watching her grow more listless and less responsive, constantly wondering & worrying whether or not she is suffering. She's pretty subdued right now, but she can get up and get around, doesn't seem to give an indication she is in pain, and is somewhat interested in what's going on around her. I'd really like her to be as much like herself as possible at the end-and I think the likelihood of that being the case diminishes the longer we wait.

This weekend, we canceled a few plans we had (though we went out for coffee both mornings-we just needed to recharge) and spent a lot of time around the house. We gave her a lot of attention and put a lot of time into a project where we are scanning all our favorite pictures of her through the years for an eventual online slideshow tribute, the link of which we will probably be sending out Thursday sometime (Sharon & I are taking off that day after sending Lucy to school). But the bittersweet highlight of the weekend was a trip out to "Lazy Lump Hill"-an odd, flat-topped field/park about a block from the house in Crystal, where we lived when first married. We used to picnic there on occasion and let Kuña-i run off some energy (once upon a time a 30+ mph runner, she once caught & dispatched a rabbit there at a dead run). Saturday evening the weather was perfect and our family went out for a last picinc. We just let Kuña-i wander around & she seemed to really enjoy sniffing about (old familiar & interesting smells, I hope). It was there where I first lost it-but I'm a guy for whom these sorts of cathartic moments are necessary. I'll probably have another one or two before Thursday, and maybe be ready to move on by the end of the week, when I am expected to head to Terre Haute for a weekender.

"What Was I Thinking?" (alternately titled "That Was the Dumbest Thing Ever"

I thought I had made a post along these lines in the past, but looking back through the archives, I cannot find any such thing.

I came across a very funny picture, circa 1994, taken from the basement of Johnson Street. The picture was intended to be of 44, but it was framed horribly, with the band at the very bottom of the picture, and the lone basement lighting fixture dominating the upper half. What made the photo so funny was that the light fixture was one of those old 60s/70s models with a non-grounded outlet extension right above the bulb itself. And every piece of electrical equipment (including three amplifiers and an 800-watt PA system) the band owned was routed through a series of low-capacity extension cords and their respective multiple slots until eventually ending up, after a tangled mess, being routed through the single recepticle on that fixture. Wow. I even recall a couple of visits by a Service Plus technician to work on our washer or dryer during which comments were made to the effect of "I don't like that...I don't like that at all..."

What were we thinking? Looking back between the years of 1993-1995, I can definitely extract numerous candidates for a list of stupidist things I've ever done, but I will try to look back over an even greater breadth of time and limit the list to 5:

(as always, in no particular order)
The "What Was I (Were We) Thinking List
1. The Extension Cord Monstrosity (above)
2. Wading tree-to-tree with Mixdorf & Gibbons through 3-4 feet of fast-moving Black Hawk Creek floodwaters for no reason whatsoever.
3. In college, and with Gibbons (a recurring figure in this list), attempting to teach ourselves martial arts by fighting in slow motion.
4. In college, choosing to pursue boom box tape recordings of 'Time Did Yank Us' songs rather than women.
5. With Gibbons, "backpacking" in Suomi Hills with a 30-gallon cooler, two grocery sacks, and an 'Academy Broadway' tent for which there were explicit instructions not to expose to direct sunlight.

Boy-that was fun. Reminiscing about past buffoonery is surely the best of times.

I could definitely see expanding on that list in the future...

How about anyone else-what are some of your favorite "What Was I Thinking" events?

My Strength! It Wanes.

Whether by forces mystical and ancient, or simply due to the stresses and pressures of urban life, I have been exhausted lately. I have a history of being able to operate on <6 hours of sleep for pretty much the entire work week-and since Lucy has come on the scene, without much of an opportunity to even catch up on weekends. It runs in my family. My dad could do it. My brothers do it. I do it. That is, until the visit of The Statesman & The Validectorian.

Suddenly, I'm zapped.

For the entire visit of Sharon's friend, Jen, and on through to last night, I have fallen asleep alongside Lucy on my nights to put her down. And on my off-nights, I can't seem to stay up past 10:00 or 10:30. Last night, when I happened to wake up in the middle of the night, I forced myself to head downstairs to read for an hour before going back to bed, just to give myself some sense that I can have some time to myself during which I am actualy awake. Man, I feel like I'm turning into Sharon.

Danny's Choice

Anyone who knows poor Kuña-i's history knows that we are in for thousands of dollars over years of slipped disks, gastrointestinal oddities, kidney failure, glaucoma, & other ailments far too numerous to recall at this time. From the sweetest, most vibrant dog in the world; we have seen her descent to be a stumbling, blind, confused creature (if still sweet) of today that I am embarassed to say provides more annoyance than companionship.

Over the past few months, she has lost nearly 20 pounds and has a growing mass in her abdomen that we've recently begun having checked out. As is the norm with our dog diagosi, the $450 blood test & ultrasound combo was not entirely conclusive, but what we know are this: it is either cancerous or intestinal adhesions, and if something isn't done (surgery wise), she will starve to death. Of course, in classic Kuña-i tradition, we have no way of knowing if the surgery will be a success (again, they don't even know what it is). And Kuña-i is no spring chicken-nearly 12 years old, we figure.

Danny's choice.

Sharon & I have planned a discussion tonight, but in a sudden bout of conviction that surprised myself, I think I am on the road to deciding. We do the surgery. There's no way to perform a proper "cost-benefit analysis." It's a shot in the dark; a philosophical one and, for me, a moral one. What it comes down to for me is this: I do a lot of talk about integrity and sticking to my guns and honor. Talk is cheap, but what do you do for the ones you care about when the chips are down? As for me, I will refuse to put a dollar value on my loved ones, four-legged or otherwise, and I will march, true to my principles, down the road that ends in the parking lot of the Poor House.

I do want to still have a conversation with our vet and sort of talk about Kuña-i's overall health outlook, but I think my path is set. This is not to say my dog's quality of life could not, due to other circumstances, deteriorate to the point where we have to make a merciful and difficult decision to put her down-someday even maybe even the near future. But it will be a decision based on her best interests, not financial sense.

DanTag

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.

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.

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.

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."

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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).

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.

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...

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?

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

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?

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...

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.

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?

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.

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'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.

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.

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.

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...

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.

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.