Stinkin’ 11 below zero this morning, coming into work. I had the car parked in front of my house last night, rather than in the garage. By the time I scraped the frost off all the windows, my fingers were in pain. For the first half of my drive into work, I pulled my fingers out of their individual glove fingers, and just made a fist, hoping that, like freezing companions in a snowy woods, huddling them together for warmth would do the trick.
Monday, January 17, 2005
Friday, January 14, 2005
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
Literary Notables
I think the compilation of Naughty Poems was really the "semenal" moment in Pat Gibbons' writing career. Thoughts?
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
The Sinking of the Whaleship Essex
Anyone ever read about this (especially anyone out Nantucket way)?
I'm kind of a sucker for human survival stories, and this one is a doozy. The sinking of this whaleboat, about a thousand miles to the northwest of Easter Island, by an enraged sperm whale captivated the Western World in the early 1800s. I just happened across the book (pretty much the definitive version of the story, based on research of two first-hand accounts) at a church's garage sale and decided to give it a shot. Not the most well-written book I've ever gone through, but without a doubt one of the most engaging tales.
I would in particular invite Gibbs to read through this (and any other book in which old mariners go through near-limitless forms of hell on earth), as I've always suspected his love for the sea and sailing was based purely on "Voyage of the Dawn Treader" and, to put it mildly, there's definitely a darker side to the subject.
I'm kind of a sucker for human survival stories, and this one is a doozy. The sinking of this whaleboat, about a thousand miles to the northwest of Easter Island, by an enraged sperm whale captivated the Western World in the early 1800s. I just happened across the book (pretty much the definitive version of the story, based on research of two first-hand accounts) at a church's garage sale and decided to give it a shot. Not the most well-written book I've ever gone through, but without a doubt one of the most engaging tales.
I would in particular invite Gibbs to read through this (and any other book in which old mariners go through near-limitless forms of hell on earth), as I've always suspected his love for the sea and sailing was based purely on "Voyage of the Dawn Treader" and, to put it mildly, there's definitely a darker side to the subject.
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
It Was the Best of Times, it Was the Worst of Times....
Message, Spock? None, perhaps, except "Happy Birthday;" surely, the 'best of times.'
Indeed, a birthday today, my 34th. Most of the celebration was actually Sunday night, where Sharon surprised me with Star Trek (the original series) Season 2. My girl is officially hooked: you don't buy someone 27 episodes of Star Trek without wanting to see a few of them yourself. Other nice birthday gifts: $30 in Best Buy gift cards from Sharon's parents (which I intend to spend today on The Simpsons Season 2), and a coffee grinder from Sharon's sister, Amy. Her family is always very kind & generous with me for Christmas and my birthday, which is nice since my own family is downright famous for its disappointing history of gift-giving.
On Sunday, I also got Sharon's stupendous homemade mac n' cheese, although she stoutly refused to replicate last year's menu, when she offered to make me a meal of my choice and I requested the same mac n' cheese, stuffing, and bread pudding. We were walking around with so much starch in us it was stiffening our shirts for a week.
Indeed, a birthday today, my 34th. Most of the celebration was actually Sunday night, where Sharon surprised me with Star Trek (the original series) Season 2. My girl is officially hooked: you don't buy someone 27 episodes of Star Trek without wanting to see a few of them yourself. Other nice birthday gifts: $30 in Best Buy gift cards from Sharon's parents (which I intend to spend today on The Simpsons Season 2), and a coffee grinder from Sharon's sister, Amy. Her family is always very kind & generous with me for Christmas and my birthday, which is nice since my own family is downright famous for its disappointing history of gift-giving.
On Sunday, I also got Sharon's stupendous homemade mac n' cheese, although she stoutly refused to replicate last year's menu, when she offered to make me a meal of my choice and I requested the same mac n' cheese, stuffing, and bread pudding. We were walking around with so much starch in us it was stiffening our shirts for a week.
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
Fellowshave of the Bic, The Two Blade-Action, and Return of Bic
Been quiet on the blogging front. Just thought I'd mention that the King of Men had to trim it back a bit this morning. Every so often, she (what I call me beard) gets into "Return of the King" range and must be brought back to the early stages of "Fellowship of the Ring." Hope all dudes are chillin.
Monday, December 27, 2004
Earthquake: Good God
It doesn't seem really in good taste to bring up any other subject today, in the wake of the mind-boggling disaster that struck southeast Asia's coasts.
The majority of my charity dollars these days I try to allocate at the beginning of the year, so I am not facing the situation of being "guilted" into giving to someone pressuring me over the phone, etc. But in instances like this, where there is a sudden, unexpected, and critical need for aid, I try to make an exception. I know there's a lot of really good organizations out there doing brave and incredible work, but I offer the two suggestions for giving below to anyone else interested (the first, because I admire the noble work being done by the doctors involved, and the second because they really know what the hell they're doing in cases like this):
Doctors Without Borders/Médecins Sans Frontières
P.O. Box 2247
New York, NY 10116-2247
888-392-0392
www.doctorswithoutborders.org
American Red Cross
International Response Fund
P.O. Box 37243
Washington, D.C. 20013
800-HELP NOW
www.redcross.org
The majority of my charity dollars these days I try to allocate at the beginning of the year, so I am not facing the situation of being "guilted" into giving to someone pressuring me over the phone, etc. But in instances like this, where there is a sudden, unexpected, and critical need for aid, I try to make an exception. I know there's a lot of really good organizations out there doing brave and incredible work, but I offer the two suggestions for giving below to anyone else interested (the first, because I admire the noble work being done by the doctors involved, and the second because they really know what the hell they're doing in cases like this):
Doctors Without Borders/Médecins Sans Frontières
P.O. Box 2247
New York, NY 10116-2247
888-392-0392
www.doctorswithoutborders.org
American Red Cross
International Response Fund
P.O. Box 37243
Washington, D.C. 20013
800-HELP NOW
www.redcross.org
Thursday, December 23, 2004
Great, Short Christmas Story I Leave You With
Last weekend, just after waking up for our early Christmas in Waterloo:
Daddy: Lucy, can you say "Merry Christmas?"
Lucy: "DON'T WANT."
Daddy: Lucy, can you say "Merry Christmas?"
Lucy: "DON'T WANT."
An Hour with Alyx
A freaky otherworldly experience. ALYX is actually a new procedure being used by some blood centers that is capable of taking twice the amount of red blood cells as a standard donation. They way they achieve this is by extracting your plasma from the blood in a cetrifuge and then actually returning it to your body on site and during the procedure.
The process actually involves four extraction/return processes, so you are never out the full amount of fluid at any time. But it was weird-both physically and psychologically. Physically, in that the plasma would be near room temperature by the time they were ready to pump it back in--which, of course, is far below body temperature. They had a heating pad over my shoulder to help maintain my temperature, but I still developed a chill. From a mental standpoint, it was crazy watching this mostly clear substance that was my plasma fill up a bag, and then watch the level begin to go down as it was pumped back in. Sort of like I woke up at an inopportune time during an alien abduction.
On a side note, I was eligible to donate cause the iron content in my blood was very high. The lady testing me said, "You must eat a lot of red meat."
The process actually involves four extraction/return processes, so you are never out the full amount of fluid at any time. But it was weird-both physically and psychologically. Physically, in that the plasma would be near room temperature by the time they were ready to pump it back in--which, of course, is far below body temperature. They had a heating pad over my shoulder to help maintain my temperature, but I still developed a chill. From a mental standpoint, it was crazy watching this mostly clear substance that was my plasma fill up a bag, and then watch the level begin to go down as it was pumped back in. Sort of like I woke up at an inopportune time during an alien abduction.
On a side note, I was eligible to donate cause the iron content in my blood was very high. The lady testing me said, "You must eat a lot of red meat."
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Shitting in the Stacks Vol 2
Over the past number of months, I have received a vast amount of correspondence from readers asking for a follow-up to my piece, "Shitting in the Stacks." It was not until last night, however; an hour and a half before my GIS class final, that I had a second personal experience from which to draw.
Shitting in the Stacks Vol. 2
With rasters, vectors, and interpolation crowding my weary head, I was testing the law of diminishing returns with respect to fact-retention in the last couple of hours prior to this final test. The weather was bitter cold; 1 degree above zero with a biting wind, and without warning, a sudden, butt-crippling urge to take a shit was upon me. Without hesitation, I headed for Wilson Library (built 1961).
I glided through the level-one turnstile and jogged left a step or two into a familiar torchere-lit hall to the men's room. It was an hour prior to the last slot on the last finals day of the semester. Nobody was around. Banks upon banks of empty, iron-wrought stalls lined the back room of the two-room facility. In each was a marvelous, ivory-white porcelin stool that were made from a Time of Craft, with brass plungers and a curious, vaguely odd shape that brought to mind notions of antiquity, not unlike those old bathtubs with feet. I breathed a sigh of anticipation that echoed off multitudinous surfaces and entered the third one from the left. It crammed full of shit and toilet paper, so I exited and went to the stall on the far right.
Sitting down, I noticed fancy light fixtures above that sent beams of golden incandescence down to reflect off the water's surface, then back up between my thighs to dance upon the intricate, relief-filled walls and ceiling. Whatever turds emerged I do not remember. They must have descended quietly in turn, almost reverently, to the bottom of the bowl. Whatever smell there may have been I also cannot recall, for I was taken with the dusty smell of tomes that worked decades to find its way through cracks and vents. My task was rendered academic with thoughts of scholars that have filled incalculable number of bowls preceding me.
Finishing, I left to find a quiet place to get my mind ready before the test.
Shitting in the Stacks Vol. 2
With rasters, vectors, and interpolation crowding my weary head, I was testing the law of diminishing returns with respect to fact-retention in the last couple of hours prior to this final test. The weather was bitter cold; 1 degree above zero with a biting wind, and without warning, a sudden, butt-crippling urge to take a shit was upon me. Without hesitation, I headed for Wilson Library (built 1961).
I glided through the level-one turnstile and jogged left a step or two into a familiar torchere-lit hall to the men's room. It was an hour prior to the last slot on the last finals day of the semester. Nobody was around. Banks upon banks of empty, iron-wrought stalls lined the back room of the two-room facility. In each was a marvelous, ivory-white porcelin stool that were made from a Time of Craft, with brass plungers and a curious, vaguely odd shape that brought to mind notions of antiquity, not unlike those old bathtubs with feet. I breathed a sigh of anticipation that echoed off multitudinous surfaces and entered the third one from the left. It crammed full of shit and toilet paper, so I exited and went to the stall on the far right.
Sitting down, I noticed fancy light fixtures above that sent beams of golden incandescence down to reflect off the water's surface, then back up between my thighs to dance upon the intricate, relief-filled walls and ceiling. Whatever turds emerged I do not remember. They must have descended quietly in turn, almost reverently, to the bottom of the bowl. Whatever smell there may have been I also cannot recall, for I was taken with the dusty smell of tomes that worked decades to find its way through cracks and vents. My task was rendered academic with thoughts of scholars that have filled incalculable number of bowls preceding me.
Finishing, I left to find a quiet place to get my mind ready before the test.
Monday, December 20, 2004
Shit, Man
The longest commute I have ever had going into the Best Buy office this morning. We had a very unique type of freezing rain that only comes around once every few years-it instantly freezes & becomes ice upon hitting your window. I had parked in the garage, so my car was totally clear when I pulled out. By the time I got out of the alley and around the corner, there was a thick layer of ice over my window over which my windshield wiper was bumping. I made it three blocks down the street, barely able to make out the intersections and praying there were no pedestrians out and about, and pulled up to the coffee shop. I stayed there till 8:45, studying for my final tomorrow night, with the idea I'd wait for the ice storm to pass and for rush traffic to subside a bit. The weather let up, but my drive was so slow and so slippery, I didn't get to work until 10:30. Shit, man.
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
Monday, December 13, 2004
Sunday, December 12, 2004
I am Taking "The Acting Challenge"...Are YOU???
Soon, Aaron will be selecting a (hopefully) interesting and (hopefully) challenging movie monologue for me to perform in front of my vidcam. I am hoping to act the shit out of it. After I put my goods out on the line for all to see, I will select a scene for whomever it is that next steps up to the challenge. Will it be you? Or maybe You? Or perhaps maybe even YOU!!!
An interior shot of my Office Space: 1. My 8 x 10 color images of MN outdoors. Inspiring me on a daily basis. 2. Some of my Lucy photos. Also inspiring me on a daily basis. 3. My mini-globe, alerting passers-by that there is a geographer at work in the vicinity. 4. My new 21" monitor (yay!) 5. My Maxwell House instant crystals. This demands an explanation. I am attempting to not spend a buck and a half on good coffee every single day. Part of my attempt to watch my budget. Maxwell House costs me about 3 cents a day. 6. One of the fruits of my production. 7. My headphones. I'm usually on headphones, listening to music or left-wing radio. 8. My hot plate. This is technically illegal at work, but I like to nurse a cup of coffee through the day. If the hot plate goes, I go. All the vice presidents know this. If I leave coffee in it over the weekend and forget to turn it off, the inside bottom looks like the surface of Mercury when I come in on Monday. 9. Caffeine-free Mountain Dew. Don't ask. 10. My "Sir Maps-A-Lot" award certificate. Don't ask. 11. My boss' cube. The reason why I respond to your profanity-laced phone calls, Cory, with curt, monotoned one-or two-word phrases. 12. My view to the outside (the very view from which the picture in the previous photo was taken). 13 My CDs. If there is anything remaining that requires explanation, let me know. Or if these pictures from the "work series" float your boat, let me know. It's not hard to take digital pictures. Lata.
Friday, December 10, 2004
What Does Dan Have in Common with Paul Simon and Billy Joel?
I'm dropping out of school.
Leaning strongly towards it, anyway. This last summer, when I had a sudden "scare" that my company would no longer cover the tuition costs, I was kind of surprised how free and happy the idea of quitting my program made me feel.
The main reason this has cropped up again in my mind is that I am increasingly aware that I am not as motivated in my studies as I was hoping I would be, going back to pursue this grad degree at my Advanced Age. A lot of that comes from many aspects of the program not meeting my expectation. I am finding that the roots of the professors (and, thus, the curriculum) at a research grant institution run deep, and there is a tremendous amount of focus on "peer-researched" academic studies, most of which I do not see directly benefitting the knowledge base I need in my career. Obviously, I understand that part of the program is to teach us to think critically and conceptually. But the MGIS program is a professional program, and I find that as I continue to study that which has little practical application, I get more and more of a sense I am wasting my time. The most glaring example of this is how, upon receiving my syllabus for next semseter (just yesterday), I see that I will be required to write a research proposal. This would be my 4th out of 4 classes so far that require that exact item. The notice I would once again have to dive into academic journals and manufacture an interest in a study area I will never touch after my college career nearly sent me reeling. Thinking about a class you are about to take should not fill you with dread.
Other main considerations are the constant pull of the need to study against the considerations of my family; in particular, Lucy, whose rapid growth and development puts me at risk of not being the father I want to be throughout her earliest years. There are so many things I long to do all those evenings and weekends when the pull of class or studies puts me out of commission. Generally hanging out with Lucy and Sharon; actually enjoying the two most exciting seasons in Minnesota (fall & spring--when I am currently in class); my various music projects; and home improvement, which continues to sit on the backburner.
Many other things swirling around and playing into the decision, but those are the top ones.
Leaning strongly towards it, anyway. This last summer, when I had a sudden "scare" that my company would no longer cover the tuition costs, I was kind of surprised how free and happy the idea of quitting my program made me feel.
The main reason this has cropped up again in my mind is that I am increasingly aware that I am not as motivated in my studies as I was hoping I would be, going back to pursue this grad degree at my Advanced Age. A lot of that comes from many aspects of the program not meeting my expectation. I am finding that the roots of the professors (and, thus, the curriculum) at a research grant institution run deep, and there is a tremendous amount of focus on "peer-researched" academic studies, most of which I do not see directly benefitting the knowledge base I need in my career. Obviously, I understand that part of the program is to teach us to think critically and conceptually. But the MGIS program is a professional program, and I find that as I continue to study that which has little practical application, I get more and more of a sense I am wasting my time. The most glaring example of this is how, upon receiving my syllabus for next semseter (just yesterday), I see that I will be required to write a research proposal. This would be my 4th out of 4 classes so far that require that exact item. The notice I would once again have to dive into academic journals and manufacture an interest in a study area I will never touch after my college career nearly sent me reeling. Thinking about a class you are about to take should not fill you with dread.
Other main considerations are the constant pull of the need to study against the considerations of my family; in particular, Lucy, whose rapid growth and development puts me at risk of not being the father I want to be throughout her earliest years. There are so many things I long to do all those evenings and weekends when the pull of class or studies puts me out of commission. Generally hanging out with Lucy and Sharon; actually enjoying the two most exciting seasons in Minnesota (fall & spring--when I am currently in class); my various music projects; and home improvement, which continues to sit on the backburner.
Many other things swirling around and playing into the decision, but those are the top ones.
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
Daniel Guitarra: Back for More
More feedback, that is. I heard a couple comments on "Here Lies Daniel Guitarra," but would welcome any other thoughts. More than that, though, is anything on the Daniel Guitarra CD Release Party 2-Disc Live Set. I've heard nothing on that, though it is the first opportunity for Pat & Cory to have heard me play live in years and years. Any comments at all?
On a side note, it is SHAMEFUL that I have not gotten a copy of that performance to Aaron & Krista. Will do soon.
On a side note, it is SHAMEFUL that I have not gotten a copy of that performance to Aaron & Krista. Will do soon.
Monday, December 06, 2004
Holiday on 44th and Crunch Cruch
Friday night we did our 2nd annual trip to my neighborhood's "Holiday on 44th" event with Lucy & her cousins (ages 2 1/2 & 4). It's a really cool coming-together with all the local merchants & neighborhood groups working to create this festival with puppet shows, storytellers, roasted chestnuts, Father Christmas, ethnic dancers, hayrides, etc. etc. etc. A lot of fun--too much to fit into one evening with the kids this age.
We waited quite a while in line for pony rides for the boys, but when we got to the head of the line, they asked if we wanted to put Lucy up there, which was something we hadn't even considered, due to her age. She was a natural--sooo funny, watching her little round body move in perfect motion along with the little horse as it trotted. The line for the rides was within sight of our favorite coffee shop. While waiting in line, Lucy saw where we were and immediately started asking about "Sue...Sue...Sue..." (the name of the proprietor). We stopped in there afterwards for hot chocolate and--also very funny--our "coffee" was not in the ceramic mugs to which Lucy is accustomed. She was very concerned. Her world was not right until we sat down at a table and let her take a look into the mugs to verify the brown liquid inside. That's my girl.
In a related note, though, Sharon & I have so thoroughly enjoyed our tradition of morning coffee & conversation that we have gotten to the point that we are doing that every morning we're together & not on vacation. Actually, come to think of it, we usually find coolest coffee shop in the vicinity of where we stay on vacation, as well...Anyway, as much as we enjoy the tradition, we've started to wonder if maybe we're missing out on some morning opportunities for adventure, as we often end up hanging out there for quite some time, and not getting back home till near noon. We decided to cut back to only Saturday mornings, leaving Sunday mornings open for getting out and doing something fun as a family--probably usually a hike, but possibly something else if the mood strikes us or the weather is too crappy. We ended up going out Sunday morning to this really out-of-the-way Wildlife unit in Crystal that is owned by the MAC (Metro Airport Commission), but that no one seems to know about. Had a lot of fun with Lucy, who was trying out some new snow pants. She was tired for the 2nd half of the walk and I carried her. One of my favorite things-she put her head on my shoulder and Sharon & I narrated a recap of all the cool things she did while she drifted off to sleep (Dan: "Did we see cattails?" Lucy: "Heah..." Sharon: "Did we see ice and did the snow crunch?" Lucy: "Heah..." etc. etc.). Actually inspired a new children's picture book idea in me. Wouldn't it be cool to have a momma, daddy, & toddler walking through a nature area and have each page be a new sound that they are making. "Swish" through the long grass. "Crunch" on the snow. "Thump" on the wood-chips. "Crack" on the ice. "Crackle" on the leaves, etc. etc. with the little girl falling slowly asleep the whole time, finally ending with "kiss kiss on the cheek." Sharon & I discussed the idea of partnering (Sharon doing the illustrations--she's got a knack for that) on some sort of cafe-press book...
We waited quite a while in line for pony rides for the boys, but when we got to the head of the line, they asked if we wanted to put Lucy up there, which was something we hadn't even considered, due to her age. She was a natural--sooo funny, watching her little round body move in perfect motion along with the little horse as it trotted. The line for the rides was within sight of our favorite coffee shop. While waiting in line, Lucy saw where we were and immediately started asking about "Sue...Sue...Sue..." (the name of the proprietor). We stopped in there afterwards for hot chocolate and--also very funny--our "coffee" was not in the ceramic mugs to which Lucy is accustomed. She was very concerned. Her world was not right until we sat down at a table and let her take a look into the mugs to verify the brown liquid inside. That's my girl.
In a related note, though, Sharon & I have so thoroughly enjoyed our tradition of morning coffee & conversation that we have gotten to the point that we are doing that every morning we're together & not on vacation. Actually, come to think of it, we usually find coolest coffee shop in the vicinity of where we stay on vacation, as well...Anyway, as much as we enjoy the tradition, we've started to wonder if maybe we're missing out on some morning opportunities for adventure, as we often end up hanging out there for quite some time, and not getting back home till near noon. We decided to cut back to only Saturday mornings, leaving Sunday mornings open for getting out and doing something fun as a family--probably usually a hike, but possibly something else if the mood strikes us or the weather is too crappy. We ended up going out Sunday morning to this really out-of-the-way Wildlife unit in Crystal that is owned by the MAC (Metro Airport Commission), but that no one seems to know about. Had a lot of fun with Lucy, who was trying out some new snow pants. She was tired for the 2nd half of the walk and I carried her. One of my favorite things-she put her head on my shoulder and Sharon & I narrated a recap of all the cool things she did while she drifted off to sleep (Dan: "Did we see cattails?" Lucy: "Heah..." Sharon: "Did we see ice and did the snow crunch?" Lucy: "Heah..." etc. etc.). Actually inspired a new children's picture book idea in me. Wouldn't it be cool to have a momma, daddy, & toddler walking through a nature area and have each page be a new sound that they are making. "Swish" through the long grass. "Crunch" on the snow. "Thump" on the wood-chips. "Crack" on the ice. "Crackle" on the leaves, etc. etc. with the little girl falling slowly asleep the whole time, finally ending with "kiss kiss on the cheek." Sharon & I discussed the idea of partnering (Sharon doing the illustrations--she's got a knack for that) on some sort of cafe-press book...
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
Abstraction
New term, new term paper. Stayed up all night last night working wrapping it up (finally finished it at 5:01, then went out for a very cold run). Today staying awake should be an adventure and a half.
Anyway, I worked so hard on it, my hordes of listeners might appreciate a glimpse, so I present to you....MY ABSTRACT:
An In-Between Census Year Study of Human Migration Using Geographic Information Science(GIS)
Abstract
In this project, I intend to develop a population dataset from in-between Census years, and use it to investigate whether inter-and intra-state migration patterns are as expected, according to previous US Census estimates.
My first literature consideration was to look for other instances in which mid-Census period data sets had been incorporated into human population GIS. Second, I was interested in what other methods researchers have used to investigate these "off-years." Third, I was curious as to how one could integrate such data seamlessly into an existing Census data set. And finally, I investigated the more general notions of population migration geography data and methods.
Upon completing my review of literature, is my determination that sufficient methodology exists to create the data set in which I am interested, and integrate that data with an existing GIS. As state agencies take a greater interest in control over "out-migration," knowledge of residential preferences of workers and consumers will become increasingly more important. An atypical approach, such as the one I propose, may serve to uncover valuable information heretofore hidden in the nebulous muddle that is the period in between Census years.
Anyway, I worked so hard on it, my hordes of listeners might appreciate a glimpse, so I present to you....MY ABSTRACT:
An In-Between Census Year Study of Human Migration Using Geographic Information Science(GIS)
Abstract
In this project, I intend to develop a population dataset from in-between Census years, and use it to investigate whether inter-and intra-state migration patterns are as expected, according to previous US Census estimates.
My first literature consideration was to look for other instances in which mid-Census period data sets had been incorporated into human population GIS. Second, I was interested in what other methods researchers have used to investigate these "off-years." Third, I was curious as to how one could integrate such data seamlessly into an existing Census data set. And finally, I investigated the more general notions of population migration geography data and methods.
Upon completing my review of literature, is my determination that sufficient methodology exists to create the data set in which I am interested, and integrate that data with an existing GIS. As state agencies take a greater interest in control over "out-migration," knowledge of residential preferences of workers and consumers will become increasingly more important. An atypical approach, such as the one I propose, may serve to uncover valuable information heretofore hidden in the nebulous muddle that is the period in between Census years.
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