Holy Fucking Shit

In a catastrophe that will transform the City of Minneapolis for the foreseeable future, the I-35 bridge over the Mississippi River has collapsed. Miraculously (considering over 200,000 cars pass over the structure daily), only six people have been confirmed at the time I type - a mere four hours after the horrific incident.

In spite of myself, I had the local news on for at least a couple of hours. And as my view of television news coverage, local or otherwise, is mainly shaped by those few times I tune in following a disaster (lets see...that would make only 9/11 and...this), I can't help but to see it as generally lecherous, inane, mindlessly repetitive, and dumbed down to the absolute lowest denominator. My educated guess, however, is that these characteristics are not limited to disaster coverage; regardless of how bent over the barrel they are to fill hours during those times.

Nevertheless, there I was - unable to totally divorce myself from the slowly developing proceedings; the interviews with DOT folks, elected officials, & eyewitnesses. Subjective phrasing and ridiculous prattle that would make the patron saint of journalism roll over in his grave. But it's my city they're talking about, and I had no other option for feeling somehow connected to this internationally significant disaster (I saw it as the lead story on BBC.com), unfolding a mere six miles from my house. The sudden, total loss of a bridge that I crossed nearly every day for my first four years of living in the city; and over which a number of my readers (that number being two) visited me on trips from out of state to stay at Johnson Street.

Holy fucking shit.

On a side note of seemingly lesser significance (though we'll see how insignificant it seems to the community as early as, say, tomorrow morning): traffic is going to suck balls.

Of New Book, Movie

In almost Cummings-ish/Mixdorfian fashion, I finished Deathly Hallows in three nights flat. More than that I really cannot (or should not) say, for now, other than to say I thought it was most excellent.

Lillies of the Field. My mind was drawing a blank, as I placed it into the disc tray, as to the reason I queued this one up in the first place. Was it an interest in seeing in action the revered and noble, but yet-as-unseen-by-me Sidney Poitier? Was it one of those legions of movies I just heard about again and again through the years and thought I should get around to? In any event, it was certainly added during one of my "movies I should see" kicks and, as such, was one about which I was less-than-excited about actually popping in.

Sidney Poitier was, indeed, a sort of Jackie Robinson of the cinema - as far as I know, the first black man to be a regular leading man. He played a character with dignity and depth, and he was really good. And the film itself, I can recognize as being WAY ahead of its time (1963). That said, had it been made in 2002, it would have starred Morgan Freeman and been an eye-roller (beautiful black and white cinematography and languid pacing aside). Overall, there was a soothing quality to the film, and one that did a spot of credit to the Christian religion - leaving one with moments of inspiration, not unlike particularly good gospel music. But I'd also be lying if I said I wasn't keeping track of the time left in the film while I was watching it. You just don't do that on films you really love.

Shat

I should mention that I watched the William Shatner Celebrity Roast with A.J. this past weekend, and it was about the funniest effing thing I've ever seen. More than that, I will not say in this forum.

Dan Speaks Out (on the candidates)

Having just watched the majority of the YouTube debate (and on the heels of earlier debates/forums, my other observations) - and following Pat's lead.

Obama: I'll say what I've said before - I'll trade off a few specifics for an articulate, inspirational speaker that is right on in a general sense, if I believe he can and will surround himself with and work with people that are brilliant experts.
Clinton: My appreciation for her growing by the appearance. She is carrying herself in a very presidential manner (in a good way). Forceful & in command, articulate and specific, and personable.
Edwards: Talk. Show. Host. I find his passionate support for many issues a little disengenuous, considering he's a latecomer to about half the parades. I also have trouble believing he'd show much moxie when the Republican Attack Machine gets under way.
Richardson: ouch. I think I like where he's coming from, but I end up being so embarassed halfway through most of his fumbling answers that I wish he'd just stop. He's well thought out on issues he dealt with as Governor, but he gets asked a question about Darfur or North Korea, and he acts like he just woke up from a nap.
Biden: Trying to win points with anger. Americans (and I) don't want that.
Dodd: Separating himself from Biden, at least. But entrenched and utterly, utterly unelectable.
Kucinitch: He may be a liberal's wet dream, but don't let this guy fool you. He's "playing politics" just like everyone else. Trying to cast the same, wide accusational net over all the other candidates in a manner that is often spurious.
Gravael(sp?): He says some things that other candidates would never dare to say, and that are probably right on: soldiers in Vietnam died in vain, end the War on Drugs, etc. In some senses, he may be 100 years ahead of his time. In most other senses, though, he's insane. Batshit.

A good thing, I suppose, that the two most electable candidates are the front runners.

Watched It, Read It

I'll soon be updating the sidebar, so I thought I'd squeeze out a thought or two on the items to the right.

The Strange Case of Dr. Jeckyl & Mr Hyde: As I mentioned in an earlier post, this was a public domain Librivox volunteer recording of the Robert Louis Stephenson classic, and what looks to be the first in a series of classic horror novels I wish to work(out) my way through during my afternoon exercise at work. It was delectably read by an Englishman, and covered from a rather quaint perspective the whole notion of man dabbling in areas in which he shouldn't. Following the whole "Icarus" thing, was this perhaps about the first tale in history to call to attention the notion of rampant science without understanding? Good escapism, overall.

The Dirty Dozen: So, these days I'm not a huge action/adventure movie guy, but if and when I do go down that route, I'm a lot more likely to seek out an utterly unrealistic depiction of it all from the sixties than I am a gritty, modern bloodfest. There's almost a pall over my life with all the horror and devilry afoot in the real world as it is; I don't necessarily need a graphic depiction of it when I want to unwind at home; I prefer fantastic, campy tales of broad-brushed characters dsipalying valor, heroism, and sometimes treachery in no uncertain terms. Movies like this and The Guns of Navarrone fit into the same category as Star Wars and Harry Potter, for me: stress-free escapism. This movie, in particular and in that light, was good but not great. Par for the genre, I'd say. On a side note - this movie was one of just a handful so far that I've watched with Netflix's "watch now" feature; a technology that completely blows me away. The movies are essentially DVD-quality, steamed to your computer on-demand and in seamless playback. They basically let you use the amount of dollars you spend a month ($10, in my case) to "buy" the amount of hours worth of movies (a somewhat more limited selection, but still quite expansive) for that month. It doesn't cost you anything additional, and does not affect your movies per month status, at all. It's a total "win," as you can sit down and call up a movie on deman, as you wish. Pure goodness - as seems to be rare in new announcements from companies in this day and age. For them, I suppose it's a win, too. The more movies they stream to you, the fewer on which they have to pick up postage. Plus, if you get addicted to the feature, maybe you boost your plan up to get more hours. In any event, I guess that's what folks call a "win-win."

Worked Out!

My workout post garnered so many comments, I thought I'd do a check in, six weeks into the endeavor. Success!!!

I actually just returned from one of my "for joy" days - a trail run out at Hyland Park; so I wasn't even in "the gym," proper. But between the fitness center, daytime trail runs, biking to work, and runs on the weekend with the girls in the Baby Jogger, I've managed to fit something in probably at least five times a week on average over the past month and a half. The fitness center workouts are intense 30 minute cardiovascular sessions (heart rate steady between 147 - 152), alternating between various machines but focusing on the ellpitical trainier (something I thought was a generic term but now find refers to a specific machine that approximates one's natural running motion, but without the impact). I churn away with water bottle and mini-towel within reach, listening to MPR podcasts or horror novels, and chase it down with a few weights, afterwards. This is mid-afternoon, when the weight room is nearly empty, and I return to my desk after a shower, to face the remaining couple of hours of work with focus & vinegar. My trail runs are of varied lengths, but usually from 30 to 40 minutes, and my bike ride into work is a farily substantial 1 hr 20 min each way. I'm aspiring to bike once each week from here on out, this summer, so I sort of feel like that covers me for the days I beg off a workout for one reason or another.

I 'm feeling just great. For all the disadvantage I have of a body with high-mileage, I have a very distinct advantage of a body that has a history of fitness. I feel like it has not taken me long to get back to a really good postion. I've dropped about seven pounds (a lot of which has been simply a new focus on not having a beer every day, and simply not eating two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at 12:30 am every night), the jiggle is beginning to re-absorb itself into my body, and (most promising for the future) I'm still really excited about keeping on keeping on. Feeling good physically is such a powerful motivating factor; and when I can attend to this sort of body maintenance during my work day, so much the better.

I should also mention that this fitness "craze" seems to be coinciding with a general personal renaissance of sorts. I've been recording in the studio again, finding time to read books (both audio & traditional), and even stretching (well) on a daily basis; deciding that I would no longer use "well I had knee surgery in there" as an excuse as to why I'm so ridiculously far from being able to touch my own toes. Not sure if this is all great news, or if I should be a bit cautious. You know how personal betterment is like the NYSE. These bubbles tend to burst...

New Elements

If you look to the left, the view is not very inspiring. But if you look to the right, you'll see my newest feature: Just Read, and Just Watched.

I credit the idea to Matt's On the Nightstand and In the DVD Player, on Panko Crumbs. I didn't flat out copy the format since 1) I don't keep a book on the nightstand 2) I thought the potential for meaningful discussion about these two items (oh, and I GET OFF on "meaningful discussion" about movies I watch and books I read) would be greater after I conclude the viewing/reading.

I'm not sure how such discussions will occur, as it's not like anyone else can post random comments on this blog. I suppose you could always just comment at the bottom of the most recent post, when/if it ever strikes you. Alternately, I may look for some sort of generic "chat box" to include on the side bar. We'll also see how long I can keep this current.

Finally, I realize that I risk, by doing this, scorn and ridicule during the "dry periods" (the weeks on end when I am uninspired or virtually unable to find time to read books). It doesn't seem like some people I know (I'm thinking of Stephen & Pat in particular here, and probably Matt) go through such periods, but such as it is. And as a wise man once said, "If we're going to be damned, let's be damned for who we really are."

IPO Part 2

I should mention a couple of things regarding my new home on MySpace...

I've had a long-time dream to do updates of my recording process -which may or may not be of interest to friend. The idea behind is is sort of documentary-like in purpose. For anyone who has a curiosity about how music recording is done (albeit just one man's method, in this case), or my creative process & observations about it (while maybe not everyone's cup of tea - perhaps there is a person or two in the Oliopolis readership that might have some level of interest); this would be a place to check out. I am somewhat ambitiously planning to post entries (ugh - another blog!!!) around once a week or so for the remainder of the creation of my Secret of HIM album. Topics will range from actual studio recording progress to musings about the creation of music/lyrics to other practical and/or philosophical considerations of album-making (choosing album art; how to credit songwriting if I wrote the song but maybe I'm incorporating some musical elements added by past fellow bandmates, etc.).

I think you can just go and check out the blog and read it whenever you want, anonymously. Alternately, you can actually subscribe to the blog to get a notice when it's updated. This option would require you to actually have a MySpace account - something I encourage you all to do......SO YOU CAN BE MY MYSPACE FRIEND!!! (think you may need the account in order to post comments, as well)

Evian, Anyone?

I’ve always thought drinking bottled water was about the most ridiculous, inexplicable phenomenon in modern popular culture and now I have some stats to prove it:

Minneapolis Star Tribune

By John Ewoldt
July 02, 2007

A wave of guilty bemusement washed over Tom Chochrek of Edina as he pulled a 12-pack of Ice Mountain off the shelf at Target. "It galls me that I buy it," he said. "I could get it cheaper from the tap, but that's not so practical in the car with the kids."

Why do so many Americans choose bottled water? Certainly convenience, but better taste and smell are reasons, too. Many Americans believe that bottled water not only tastes better, but contains fewer impurities. The labels soothe us with words such as "purified,"natural springs,"artesian" and even "wellness water." Who wouldn't want to drink liquid refreshment that comes from an aquifer deep within the Earth on a remote island? That sounds better than "from the river so murky you're afraid to swim or fish in it."

Still, in a blind, informal taste test in the newsroom, seven of eight tasters thought that Minneapolis tap water was equal to or better than Dasani, Ice Mountain or Fiji. Only one taster preferred the most expensive water from the island. Others said it was "so so,"flat" or "had an aftertaste." One reviewer was convinced that all four were the same.

In 2000, Lynne Rossetto Kasper of the Splendid Table radio show did a taste test comparing Dasani, Evian, Chippewa and Minneapolis tap water. Not only did Minneapolis tap win, but Kasper was sure that Evian was tap water.

What many buyers of bottled water may not know is that Coca-Cola (Dasani), Pepsi (Aquafina) or Nestle (Ice Mountain) don't have to release their water testing results to the public like municipalities do. Nor do they add fluoride to deter tooth decay, as most municipal water operations do.

Minneapolis, for example, tests its water for more than 100 contaminants. A new filtration system in Columbia Heights removes more impurities than are required for federal water quality standards. More than 500,000 residents, including Minneapolis, Golden Valley, Crystal, New Hope and Columbia Heights get water from its plant.
Buying a bottle of water at a convenience store for 79 cents may seem cheap, but a consumer can fill the same bottle 2,850 times at the price of Minneapolis water, according to the city's website. While many Americans moan about the price of gasoline, few seem to groan about the price of bottled water, which, if you're choosing Fiji's rectangular bottle, costs about $8.50 a gallon ($2.25 for a 1-liter bottle). In total, Americans spend about $11 billion yearly on bottled water.

###

The article has a 2nd part that goes on to discuss the amount of oil used to produce those disposable plastic bottles and how only 20% of them are recycled (a far lower percentage within the wall at my place of work, I might add). It also mentions that theres a growing movement of critics of the industry, pointing out the ethical sticky wicket of using all that energy to bottle, transport (transport of goods over long distances fast becoming my new issue of choice), and package this "fancy" water for US citizens, when there's lots of people in the world that would give anything for a plentiful supply of plain old halfway clean tap water.

IPO

So, seeing where the winds were blowing...last fall I started a MySpace page as an alternative to trying to maintain a website for my music. It will allow me to:
a) have a presence on the web that is accessible, free, and more or less on par, quality-wise, with anything else out there.
b) have all the features - from song uploads to message board to blog posting, to even calendar listings (should that ever be necessary) - that I would reasonably need in order to promote myself and reach out to a larger audience (larger being very relative, of course).
c) be a place where I can post regular updates on the recording process (provided recording is "regularly" happening), something that I've always thought would be a nice thing to do.

As readers of this blog are pretty well aware, sessions down in the studio have been at a premium. I'm ostensibly attempting to put together my first true solo album (have been for the past three years, in fact), but the realities of other personal pursuits and my family have left me with little time and energy left for the endeavor. This is painfully obvious as, if you check out this site, you'll see that my creation of this page was in Nov. 06. Granted, my intention was to not "go public" with it until I had something worthwhile to report, but certainly very little has happened until a very recent and intense burst of creative power and ambition. But I decided I might as well throw it out there now, so here it is: http://www.myspace.com/danhylton

I'm not sure if you need a MySpace account in order to post comments, or even in order to listen to songs, but low risk/high reward, I suppose, if you set one up.

The other thing is - I need to decide if I want this site to do anything other than promote my music. If I start doing a little more acting around, eventually, would it be weird to have it also be a page where I promote my stage appearances and so on? Or have an acting resume? I suppose it's the same low risk/high reward situation for me. Nothing I've ever done has ever really put me on the map, anyway, so I suppose I can afford to make up my own rules.

Turning into Stephen???

Without even an intentional plan to do so, I'm in the midst of one of my more ambitious periods of reading, this early summer.

In early June, I blew through volume six of the Harry Potter series (my 2nd time through, in preparation - as a lot of others are preparing - for the release of volume seven). That was pretty easy game, and a fast read, of course. I then, on a whim, undertook the legendary Catcher in the Rye. One of those "I know I should read it" situations that'd been lingering for years. I'm pleased to say that I'm Loving It. As I mentioned to Mighty Tom yesterday, it's fascinating (and satisfying) to see such a complex and disarmingly insightful character in a book that is that been so highly regarded and popular through the years. It's a surprisingly short book, and I've been squeezing in a couple of chapters a night, with just a couple to go.

Concurrently, I am aspiring to mix in audiobook "podcasts" into my nearly every day cardio machine workouts. Based on a tip from Mixdorf, I checked out LibriVox, which is a volunteer endeavor to record as many public domain works to electronic audio as possible. My first download, which I'm (also) about a chapter or two from finishing, is The Strange Case of Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde, which is (beautifully) read by an Englishman with a wonderful pace and speaking voice. My sense, being new to the whole audiobook thing, is that the reader is everything. I lucked out here. Anyway, my next audiobook is going to be Mary Shelly's Frankenstein. Theme? Classic horror for early afternoon workouts? Two corroborative methods for raising my heart rate???

My next print book I'm planning to launch into? A Morbid Taste for Bones, by Ellis Peters. By chance, on the way back from camping this last weekend, Sharon said she wanted to watch a movie (a relatively rare occurence in and of itself). We swung by the library and found an episode from a PBS movie series based on the Brother Cadfael series. Basically, a murder-solving, progressive and worldly monk, seeming to be a bit in the model of William of Baskerville from Umberto Eco's In the Name of the Rose (though the publication of the first book in the series predates In the Name... by three years). We watched the episode/movie (over 100 minutes long) and, while it was pretty good, we had the sense it was hacked and condensed quite a bit from the original book. I can't wait to get started on that. I'm absolutely fascinated with the history of Christianity through the middle ages. Such vileness, savagery, and political maneuvering; yet how amazing the works of art and richness of pomp & circumstance. If this series proves to be even partly as fascinating on those counts as was Eco's book, I'm in for quite a ride, as there are 20 books in the series.

It's Been Awhile Since My Last Bush Rant

The fact that Bush (& anyone associated) can climb up on a podium and actually begin sentences like, "What the American people have to understand is..." is not only the act of somebody utterly without shame, it's insulting and infuriating to those of us who seem to have a better handle on policy with 1% of the information he has. We've long talked about the whole "is Bush dumb" thing, but I gotta say - there's a lot of evidence to suggest the man is sick in the head. No one would have that much gall.

While I'm on the subject, I'm kind of amazed that a press corps can sit around, straight-faced, and take notes while this moron rambles on. I keep half-expecting somebody - ANYBODY - to stand up and suddenly say, "Is he for real?" What gives?!?" I was watching the press conference with Bush sending off Tony Blair and, regardless of my political differences; when Blair spoke, I was listening to an intelligent and even somewhat inspiring man. Bush followed him and started up with his ridiculous, "I know one thing - what the world needs is courage, and here stands a courageous man..." bullshit. Completely without substance and, of course, hemmed, hawed, & stammered. I swear to God, it seems like one of that spate of movies in the late 80s where kids suddenly were in adult bodies. He sounds like a friggin 4th grader. And a mean bully one, at that.

I'm sitting there, watching the press and various dignitaries in attendance; the majority if not all of them learned people with lengthy, impressive resumes, who have reached the pinnacle of their career to be on the short list of attendees at a White House. And I'm thinking, "Jesus, the President of the United States is the dumbest guy in the room."

It's funny, but this punk-ass chimp wrecking the world renders it not quite so "ha ha funny."

By All That Is Holy...

Friends, buy Harry Potter from a huge bookstore chain, and everything else you read from an independent bookstore.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20070611/en_nm/retail_harrypotter_dc

Check THIS Out

My theatre's new kickass website. There's at least three images of me on the various pages, but I'm not suggesting that's what makes it kickass. Stephen, Mighty Tom , and The Johnsons may recognize the image on the front page as one from our production last summer.

Workout!

I've always been a guy that has, for the most part, shunned "that fancy equipment" in the local health clubs and focused on, pretty much, free weights for strength, and running for cardio fitness. Both things I can do on my own time, in (or around) my own home.

Enter 2007: Strapped with two kids that demand all of me at home, I have neither the time nor the energy to workout in the evenings. Mornings? I'm up late trying to get some time to myself, so forget about it. Plus, I'm fairly recently out of an appointment with an orthopedic specialist (should have blogged about it but didn't, for whatever reason), where some of my worst fears were confirmed about the current and potential future condition of my knees. Gone may be the super-intense, all-running-based training sessions and the pounding that puts on my knees. The recommendation? Cross-training; especially the low-impact kind, such as you can get from elliptical trainers, excercise bikes, and stair steppers (all of which I remember mocking heartily in my head as I strode between rows of them on my way to the running track at Bally's in the early 90s).

My workplace has an incredible fitness center that is available to me for $20 a month. I feel compelled to mention that nothing is a pittance these days, but this price is certainly a good one, compared to what I'd be paying at any of a number of health clubs in the Twin Ctiies. This morning I headed in for an initial fitness assessment (not good, not good, as a result of much theatre & parenting, and not many cardio workouts in the past seven months - but nothing too surprising). I went in with the idea that I would try to hit that club a couple of times a week and make it out to Hyland Park for a trail run once a week (all during business hours, mind you). After my first workout, I'm pretty excited about the amount of stuff they have in there, and the potential to mix it up a bit. I may try to step up the frequency from that initial goal, even. We'll see.

In any event, I had - in my first time on an elliptical machine - a grudging sort of awe at the ability to track my heart rate (trying not to let myself fury my way out of the "cardio zone") while working my way through a program that is specifically designed to work different muscle groups in your legs at different points during the workout. Wow.

Invited Dress

Lost from the radar of The Oliopolis is the culmination of the last year of building up funds, audience, connections and experience for my theatre group, and that is our play, "A Company of Wayward Saints." It's lost, no doubt, because I'm not acting in it; a very painful personal decision for me, due to my need to be at home with my family following an Insane Spring. But make no mistake, I've been quite busy with the play - trying to sell ads (gag!), writing press releases, helping at our performance space in assorted capacities ranging from actor fill-in at rehearsals to helping paint a stage.

We're on the eve of a 10 performance extravaganza, spanning three weeks. We're expecting reviewers from a couple of major local publications, and have brought in an impressive array of talent for our director and cast. In short, we've come a long way.

So, not being actually in the play (again, it hurts, it hurts!), I have the opportunity to see it with Lucy, which I will tonight at dress rehearsal. The play is in the commedia dell'arte style (think Gilligan's Island), and is quite uproarious and not a little bawdy. Here's my thoughts on that experience for her, lifted from an email I sent our box office manager today:

I'm just slightly iffy on the content for Lucy. Obviously, innuendo & such will go over her head, but kids are perceptive enough to know when things ARE going over their heads, and it seems kind of mean, in a small way, to let that happen. I guess that's the reason we don't have her watch any sort of "adult-oriented" TV & movies.

That said, I ended up thinking that the opportunity for her to be part of "the live theatre experience" is just too compelling. We've talked, at length, about all the rehearsing ("practicing") that goes on and everything that goes into to getting ready for the show, and about how it's kind of magical to be in the middle of a crowd where everybody is laughing together and getting serious together and seeing it all happen right then, in the moment. I'm hoping she'll just get caught up and be dazzled, and I don't have to sit there and explain thing after thing after thing.

Roll Up Your Sleeves, Amateur Psychologists

I'm moving this discussion from the e-mail world to the blog world. At the end, if anyone has thoughts - send em along:

Dan: The 2nd of 4 important things to remember: You cannot instantiate an object from an interface. You can onlyinstantiate an object from a class that implements the interfaces.

Pat: Shakespearian. Is that right after 'You can't roller skate in a buffalo herd?"

Dan: You can't instantiate an object from an in-ter-face/But you can be happy if you've a-mind to I do about 15 minutes of programming training and suddenly I've gotthose little circles of birds flying around over my head, like someonejust dropped a piano on my head in Looney Toons episode.

Pat: I once hit my head so hard I saw spinning stars, not birds, but stars. The writer of that nonsense likes to keep his audience riveted! (ed. note: "Blazing Saddles" reference, here)

Dan: You slammed my head into the concrete floor in my parents basement and I saw goddamed stars. (ed. note: 18 years ago)

Pat: I don't remember that one. I seem to remember lobbing a rather large, heavy object such that it squashed your nuts, to which you replied,'WHY?!' Good times.

So...We again recount (cause we can't get enough of the re-hashing): the famous Trifecta of (non necessarily unprovoked or completely senseless, but) random Mixdorfian Acts of Violence (MAV). In the episode I recounted, I was wrestling and pinning you, like usual, and sitting on your chest. Suddenly, you swung both feet up around my neck and slammed the back of my head down onto the floor as hard as possible. I either saw stars or utter blackness, but it was outer-space, regardless. The third of the times - perhaps the most famous - was when I was slapping your forehead lightly (to which you may have been very warrented in asking, "WHY?' HOWEVER...) suddenly, you punched me in the head. HARD. Understand, in both instances, your reactions may have been considered justifiable (if somewhat extreme). But the real question still plauging psychologists till this day is: WHY? Why then? I was grappling with and tormenting your ropy ass almost every time we got together. What logic drove the unflappable Valedectorian to lash out in such a violent and suddent manner. It should be noted that I was constantly derided as "the violent one." But I wished to grapple, always. Never to inflict pain. The safety of combatants was always of overriding concern to me. Between Gibbons' lethal flailing on the basketball court and your rare, psychotic lashings-out, I think I was comparatively mild.

Goodbye, Meyer and Underdog

We spent a second night with Meyer in the house Wednesday night. He had settled down considerably, with our biggest issues being that we didn't own a crate (resulting in destroyed bathroom blinds), and that he didn't quite get the part about being asked to pee outside. Other than that, we had some good times amidst the close supervision and general craziness during his visit. It was also apparent that we are not ready to "get back in the game" at this point. Sharon returned Meyer back to his previous foster home - where he has a lot of room and a number of canine companions indefinitely till adopted (which shouldn't be too long, given the record of the rescue group - more on that later).

It has become evident, in hindsight, that Kuna-i - the sweetest, most personable dog I've ever known - was a mess, from an obedience standpoint. While weighing about a quarter of what I do, she managed to occupy (and demand, especially if awoken from sleep) about a third of the width of our entire bed. She could not/would not trot leisurely along at our pace during a run (and positively hated other dogs we met along the way). And, in various bouts of exuberance, she scratched our faces - sometimes badly. Incidentally, and totally accidentally, but badly. And there's not a single one of those issues that would not be untenable with kids in the house. So any dog we want to bring in at this point is going to require commitment to us in the areas of obedience and consistancy. Meyer, while a sweetheart and plain ol' good boy, was a great reminder of that.

Shannon, the executive director of Underdog Rescue (the group through which we worked), was aware of the position we were in when we first showed up at the adoption event, I think. With an amazing mixture of grace and diplomacy, she informed us of as well as let us discover on our own, our limitations and current "dog readiness." And whlie she was at it, she managed to give us a big-time education in the subject of "bully breeds" (pit bulls, staffordshire terriers, and the like; the "fighting dogs"). I'm not going to say this very well, I think but: it seems that it comes down to this: you can say "Pit Bulls should not even exist," and perhaps be true in the sense that nobody in modern times should be breeding dogs for attack, gameness, or any of those other classic "fighting dog" characteristics. But the fact is - they do exist. Neuter and spay your pit bulls and decrease the population, certainly. But do not neglect and hate the pit bulls that are here. Dogs, above all else, want to please. They want to be what we want them to be; both as species (by breeding), and as individuals. And pit bulls are exactly as we made and wanted them to be.

If you have a chance, check out the front page for Underdog Rescue; particularly the "Our Story" section, that details the relatively brief history of the group. For pet lovers, and plain old lovers-of-human-interest-stories, it's truly inspiring. 1,500 classically "unadoptable" animals given homes in the past seven years just because one woman gave a damn. Amazing, and - beyond being the place where we will get a cat (conceivably before we get a dog, we now think) - it is now on our "short list" of charities, come donation time.

Meyer, Night One

Meyer, the 8-month old pit bull pictured in the previous post, spent the night last night, with the understanding we’re doing a little “trial foster care” to see how things go.

Meyer’s about 40 lbs, but will fill out to about 50. He’s great. He’s a dog. Pink crayon flashing in all its glory, he was a bit restless as he alternately explored his surroundings and chased his tail (he really spent a lot of time chasing his own tail, including a number of instances where he did it while sitting, which netted an effect much like watching a dog on a sit n’ spin). He’s generally pretty well behaved, and responds pretty well to the all-purpose “off,” which can refer to “off the couch,” “let go of the frisbee,” “paws down from me,” and any number of other instances.

I have concerns. Concerns about the amount of energy, effort, and time it will require to discipline this dog to the extent that a “bully breed” requires. Raising these two kids with the amount of energy & devotion we do is a full-time job and a half. There’s nights where we barely stagger to the finish line, and I’m not sure I can imagine staying on top of doggie discipline as religiously as Meyer deserves.

As much of a concern is the idea that kids under five are not to be left alone with pretty much any dog, much less a dog of this breed. Moreso because of kids’ unpredictability than dogs’. We don’t leave the room with Rose in Lucy’s care for the same reason. Lucy is a really intelligent, amazingly responsible little girl for a four year old. And it inevitably takes all of about two minutes of “sister time” for her to forget that Rose is indeed a sister, not a toy. While pit bulls are supposed to be amazing at letting kids tug, pull, play with their paws, etc. – I just don’t know if there’s any accounting for some instance where Lucy tries to jump over Meyer while he’s sleeping, and fails.

I think if Sharon & I were childless, it would be a slam dunk. As it is, we’re in a re-evaluation mode.