Well - it would appeat that God, or the fates, or some weird karma -is endeavoring to test my efforts at "The Great Relax," as I have been facing a relentless string of challenges to my time & sanity over the past three weeks.
My family, which had been relatively sickness-free for the past two years, got hit in spades over the past month. Lucy, then Rose (both with croup - which led to some seriously long and arduous nights), then Sharon, then me, and then Rose again (though Rose has a couple of teeth about to come in, and some of her current condition might have something to do with that). Then, the computer goes out. A good chance to take a step back from technology, of course; but also more than a bit of an inconvenience, about a week out from the opening of my theatre company's fall show - and a ton of stuff that I simply cannot do to help prepare and follow up on; not to mention a $380 repair bill. We're in the midst of the "Rose again" phase of sickness, and neither Sharon nor I has had a great night's sleep in some time. Add to that two weeks of extra workload (one day of which resulted in me coming in at about 4 am yesterday), and no relief over the weekend, as Sharon worked. I'm running on about two weeks of little sleep and zero time to myself (sans kids) prior to 9 pm, save one night over this past weekend when I went out to see a play.
Nearly the last straw was on my drive home, yesterday, at just after 1 pm. I was heading north on I-94 a few miles south of my neck of the woods, when I heard a tremendous grating sound of something large and metallic dragging along underneath my car. I immediately took the next exit and pulled into the first parking lot I saw, at about 18th street North on Washington Ave. Not the place you want to have car troubles. Getting out, I saw what I feared: the brace holding up the muffler had broken loose and the exhaust system was just resting right on the ground. Fuck me. The parking lot was that of some nonprofit, and they were kind enough to let me use the phone to call my auto club, who told me they could have someone out within the hour. Hanging up, I realized "What are they going to do?" A tow would not really avail me, as my problem was the at the back end of the car. I wasn't sure they'd be able to affect even a rudimentary fix on the tailpipe, and I knew I didn't want to hang around that area for even an hour.
That's when they whole ship of my life may have righted itself. That's when I leapt into such action as I could take. The parking lot was right across the street from a gas station with a logo of bees buzzing around, called "The Colony." I can only imagine at the origin of the name, but the place is most truly a rotten hive of scum & villany. Nevertheless, I marched right in, bought two bungee cords (thank GOD they had bungee cords), and got back to my car, unaccosted. I did some crazy-ass shit with the cords that resulted in the exhaust system being held somewhat tenuously in place -enough for a slow, non-freeway route home. At home, I changed into running clothes, then drove the car (slowly) up to PepBoys to find out about the repair. I ran home (it was a beautiful, crisp and sunny fall day), and got a call not long after telling me the muffler was fine and that they just needed to get a new brace & install: total cost about $100, and I could have it back by the end of the day. (in the world of my financial disasters, $100 is good, good news)
I ended up having a relatively nice afternoon & night, and awoke to find some pretty cool news that may follow in an upcoming post.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Beer & Apples
Fresh red apples, bursting with all the juice and sweetness Summer's sun has managed to pack in; and frothy, bitter Harvest ale, flushing your cheeks with the crisp bite of noble hops and the smooth, hearty taste of roasted malts.
And so, my friend, the question is Put To You. What have you to say for yourself? Only if your statement should suffice (and only then!), shall I deem you worthy of a taste of my beer & apples.
And so, my friend, the question is Put To You. What have you to say for yourself? Only if your statement should suffice (and only then!), shall I deem you worthy of a taste of my beer & apples.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Still Alive, Still Off the Grid, and the More Alive For It
Much less posting, of late. I've been particularly busy at work, as we are in the midst of transitioning into a GIS environment that should be very beneficial to my career in the future, but is putting a tremendous strain on my workload at present.
It's been weird to be without a computer at home for the past five days or so. Without a doubt, I have some pretty strong indications of computer addiction; and I say that in a clinical sense, not a slang one. Beyond a fairly substantial amount of work that I put into working on theatre-related stuff, and home finance (which I attend to almost exclusively on my computer), I spend far more time obsessively checking various email accounts, RSS feeds, and late-night, open-ended cruising about that I think arises from some sort of false hope it will relax a mind that is wound up from day after day full of operating at a high level, both at work and home. I think the reality, though, is that a computer (much like a TV) has some sort of stasis effect on your brain; it emerges from a period of time devoted to the activity in the exact condition in which it entered; and none the more rested. As I stated to PMix on Friday, I aspire to approach my computer activity at home with the same method that so successfully governs my TV watching: I will turn on the device if I have some very specific purpose in mind, and turn it off as soon as that purpose is done.
So - sans-computer this past weekend, I went with my family out to an apple orchard for some annual pickin'; and sweet, fresh apples were feasted upon for the remainder of the weekend, along with Goose Island Autumn Ale and Bell's Two Hearted IPA. I also had the opportunity to see live theatre performance, directed by the guy who will be directing my company's winter show, plus hang out with my two girls yesterday afternoon while Sharon did one of her intermittant naturalist programming events (she works about one day a month). One of the hilights from the afternoon (and there were many): finally getting some glow-in-the-dark stars stuck up on Lucy's ceiling. I elected to represent the Winter Sky, since it'll be a sky she is more familiar with, growing up (dark will always occur before her bedtime). So far, we've got The Big Dipper, The Little Dipper, and Casseopia represented, all directionally consistant with the actual sky outside. Then we ran out of the white, tacky stuff. When our supply is replenished, we'll start in again. You have to pick and choose, since there's only so much ceiling space, but I know I need to get Orion in there, and then probably as many of the Zodiac characters as appear in a Winter sky.
It's been weird to be without a computer at home for the past five days or so. Without a doubt, I have some pretty strong indications of computer addiction; and I say that in a clinical sense, not a slang one. Beyond a fairly substantial amount of work that I put into working on theatre-related stuff, and home finance (which I attend to almost exclusively on my computer), I spend far more time obsessively checking various email accounts, RSS feeds, and late-night, open-ended cruising about that I think arises from some sort of false hope it will relax a mind that is wound up from day after day full of operating at a high level, both at work and home. I think the reality, though, is that a computer (much like a TV) has some sort of stasis effect on your brain; it emerges from a period of time devoted to the activity in the exact condition in which it entered; and none the more rested. As I stated to PMix on Friday, I aspire to approach my computer activity at home with the same method that so successfully governs my TV watching: I will turn on the device if I have some very specific purpose in mind, and turn it off as soon as that purpose is done.
So - sans-computer this past weekend, I went with my family out to an apple orchard for some annual pickin'; and sweet, fresh apples were feasted upon for the remainder of the weekend, along with Goose Island Autumn Ale and Bell's Two Hearted IPA. I also had the opportunity to see live theatre performance, directed by the guy who will be directing my company's winter show, plus hang out with my two girls yesterday afternoon while Sharon did one of her intermittant naturalist programming events (she works about one day a month). One of the hilights from the afternoon (and there were many): finally getting some glow-in-the-dark stars stuck up on Lucy's ceiling. I elected to represent the Winter Sky, since it'll be a sky she is more familiar with, growing up (dark will always occur before her bedtime). So far, we've got The Big Dipper, The Little Dipper, and Casseopia represented, all directionally consistant with the actual sky outside. Then we ran out of the white, tacky stuff. When our supply is replenished, we'll start in again. You have to pick and choose, since there's only so much ceiling space, but I know I need to get Orion in there, and then probably as many of the Zodiac characters as appear in a Winter sky.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Off the Grid
What I am about to say has been a far, far, far more complicated, painful, and frustrating incident than it sounds: I will be without a computer or email access at home for at least a week.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Great News on the School Front
The probable solution to our "no-good-schools-in-our-neck-of-the-woods" dilemma has suddenly emerged. Lucy's school, as a result of a ton of behind the scenes work & lobbying the state legislature, has been approved to me a Minnesota charter school. As in, for Fall 2007 they will open their doors for K-6 Montessori classes, funded wholly by Minneapolis Public Schools.
On the surface, this is a sublime, miraculous sudden circumstance; particularly as Lucy enters kindergarten next fall. Not only would she continue in Montessori education, which we truly want for her; it would be through a school we already know, love, and trust that lies within our neighborhood. And it would be free.
The only part that scares me is: what happens when the doors are opened to the general public? I fear the influx of high needs kids and or kids from "transitional" families could potentially overwhelm the capacity of the school to maintain its structure and ideal environment. How, exactly, will enrollment work? Will parents have to seek out and show, in some way, they understand the commitment they are making by choosing Montessori for their kids? Or will this school be forced to near-bursting-at-the-seams during the next rash of Minneapolis school closings, and eventually go the way of all other North Minneapolis schools? (and - selfishly - if the latter, can we squeak our kids through before that comes to pass?)
There's definitely some room to be involved with this transition; and much to understand about how this is all going to work. More on this in the future, undoubtedly.
On the surface, this is a sublime, miraculous sudden circumstance; particularly as Lucy enters kindergarten next fall. Not only would she continue in Montessori education, which we truly want for her; it would be through a school we already know, love, and trust that lies within our neighborhood. And it would be free.
The only part that scares me is: what happens when the doors are opened to the general public? I fear the influx of high needs kids and or kids from "transitional" families could potentially overwhelm the capacity of the school to maintain its structure and ideal environment. How, exactly, will enrollment work? Will parents have to seek out and show, in some way, they understand the commitment they are making by choosing Montessori for their kids? Or will this school be forced to near-bursting-at-the-seams during the next rash of Minneapolis school closings, and eventually go the way of all other North Minneapolis schools? (and - selfishly - if the latter, can we squeak our kids through before that comes to pass?)
There's definitely some room to be involved with this transition; and much to understand about how this is all going to work. More on this in the future, undoubtedly.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Addendum to "Ass Was Kicked"
Official Eagle Bluff Challenge results, here.
Now, alas, if it has only been Loni Anderson bouncing along up in first place, both T-Clog and I might've speeded up our own respective paces a bit.
Now, alas, if it has only been Loni Anderson bouncing along up in first place, both T-Clog and I might've speeded up our own respective paces a bit.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Camp Was Had, Cave Was Explored, Ass Was Kicked
Let me start by saying "Forestville is a fantastic state park and I can't wait till I get back there!" Beautiful trails and rugged, forested hills; fascinating historical sites, and the lovely Root River, meandering throughout. And I saw none of it.
Lucy, God Bless Her, has really got the routine down. She knows why she's there, what needs to be done, and how to help.
Once Sharon was able to get Rose down, we had a wonderful evening.
It was actually kind of wild, how both evenings (pleasantly cool, wonderfully quiet, Lucy re-discovering the art of cuddling), and both mornings (frazzled, desperate attempts to gather ourselves and get on the way to wherever we were headed) seemed to follow the same pattern. The "X Factor" was Rose going zonking out at 7:00 pm and waking up at about 6:00 am.
Saturday morning, as soon as the frazzled company was able to get out & about, we actually headed down the road about five miles to hit the "Mystery Cave" portion of Forestville/Mystery Cave.
Despite "Turquoise Lake" being disappointingly small (no Dawn Treader-style watercraft being piloted by giant sea monkeys gliding off towards distant, subterranean horizons, unfortunately), it was a pretty amazing tour filled with all kinds of fascinating cave facts.
After that, it was a quick change into running
gear and off to Eagle Bluff to meet up with The Bear for the purpose of scaring off small game in a 10 mile radius and setting the world on fire in what turned out to be the most insane 5k race I have ever run. T-Clog had the benefit of being familiar with the place and, thus, being able to match pre-race map to reality during the run. I, on the other hand, kept wondering if I was close to the end or not; indeed, once screaming to a guy about a city block ahead of me, "HEY, IS THIS ABOUT IT UP HERE?" The picture to the left is actually of me finishing (I actually finished 7th overall, which may be about the highest place I have ever had in any race, ever - though it should be noted that it was about the smallest field against which I have ever competed).
Both T-Clog & I both did what we set out to do and congratulated one another with many hi-fives and a photo op with our hard-earned cedar ring finisher medals. (Behind us, you see the bottom of a 300-foot valley we ascended and descended twice during the run).
After the festivities wrapped up, it was back to Forestville State Park and our campsite which, for that evening and the next morning, was pretty much a repeat of our previous evening & morning combo.
An arrangement Sharon & I made a couple of years ago was that each of us (when we're camping with kids) would have the opportunity to have solo trail time while the other "ran defense." Again, if it was just Lucy, it'd be a wonderful nature exploration and bonding experience. With Rose on the scene, and a world of pebbly, chokable hazards (and in my case, a lack of breasts); time with the kids is pure "Playing Defense." For me, "trail time" is invariable a trail run. For Sharon, it is a birding, nature journaling hike. And that is what she got Sunday morning before we left. We were just coming off a tear and defiance-filled morning, so on my recommendation, we just packed up and dropped Sharon off at a trailhead near the edge of the State Park. I then drove both kids eight miles into the town of Preston and just hung out at a park where Lucy could amuse herself while I focused on Rose for awhile. Then it was back to pick up Sharon and then up to MSP.
Just as a result of the business of the remainder of our Fall and the obvious, following, Winter; we probably won't camp again with Rose till she's about 18 months old. And that's good. There's just something about some level of sentience that a kid goes through somewhere between a year and two years. It was the case with Lucy, anyway. At 18 months, or two years or somewhere around there, a child can be on a camping trip and get what they're doing. They can still be a handful, but they know where they are, why they're there, and generally what is expected of them. Rosie - sharp girl though she is - is pretty much stimulus/response at this point. Maybe the better way to put it is that a 10-month old is not really seeing "the big picture."
addendum: I just remembered one other highlight from the trip. Barred owls were going nuts. Both evenings and even in the following mornings, they were going crazy, hooting and responding to each other in a way that I've never heard. There was one particular stretch, in the middle of the first night, when Sharon & I were both awakened, and just couldn't believe it as we listened to this group going at it in trees surrounding our campsite. Here is an MP3 I made with my little player (which is also a voice recorder, I find), as I headed off a little path next to the river, trying to get closer to the bluffs where they were hooting (more distantly, unfortunately), the next morning. You may need headphones, and to turn them up a bit, to hear the owls and not just my footfalls and breathy narration.
http://media.putfile.com/Barred-Owls-Forestville-State-Park
That's not exactly true, as we camped about 50-60 ft from the river, and had wonderful views of both it and the surrounding hills, without going more than a few feet outside of our actual site. Which is good. Cause we didn't. A comedy of errors (not the least of which was heading out of the Twin Cities on 35-W, rather than 52), led to us not arriving till right around 5:00 Friday evening (after Sharon picking me up from work at 1:00). Right about time to get cracking on setting up camp and getting food going.
Rumination: Time was, when Sharon & I used to camp as a childless couple, where all 
equipment we needed was kept in two bins, and an extra handful of items was either included or excluded, depending on the season. Now, with a four-year old and an under-one year old, we have to start planning what we're going to pack and what we must not forget at least three days in advance. Whatever metric is used to determine that change in getting ready time since the old days; well it is also used for activities that occur within camp.
Nothing is ever "OK, you get food going, I'll set up the tent."
equipment we needed was kept in two bins, and an extra handful of items was either included or excluded, depending on the season. Now, with a four-year old and an under-one year old, we have to start planning what we're going to pack and what we must not forget at least three days in advance. Whatever metric is used to determine that change in getting ready time since the old days; well it is also used for activities that occur within camp.Nothing is ever "OK, you get food going, I'll set up the tent."
Lucy, God Bless Her, has really got the routine down. She knows why she's there, what needs to be done, and how to help.But the addition of Rose, as both a distraction to 
Lucy and her parents, as well as being a force of reckoning in her own right, has changed our experience towards that of challenge. I don't know how much more I can say about that. Words fail me. Anyway, by the time all was indeed set up and food was consumed, night was falling.
Once Sharon was able to get Rose down, we had a wonderful evening.It was actually kind of wild, how both evenings (pleasantly cool, wonderfully quiet, Lucy re-discovering the art of cuddling), and both mornings (frazzled, desperate attempts to gather ourselves and get on the way to wherever we were headed) seemed to follow the same pattern. The "X Factor" was Rose going zonking out at 7:00 pm and waking up at about 6:00 am.
Saturday morning, as soon as the frazzled company was able to get out & about, we actually headed down the road about five miles to hit the "Mystery Cave" portion of Forestville/Mystery Cave.Despite "Turquoise Lake" being disappointingly small (no Dawn Treader-style watercraft being piloted by giant sea monkeys gliding off towards distant, subterranean horizons, unfortunately), it was a pretty amazing tour filled with all kinds of fascinating cave facts.
After that, it was a quick change into running
gear and off to Eagle Bluff to meet up with The Bear for the purpose of scaring off small game in a 10 mile radius and setting the world on fire in what turned out to be the most insane 5k race I have ever run. T-Clog had the benefit of being familiar with the place and, thus, being able to match pre-race map to reality during the run. I, on the other hand, kept wondering if I was close to the end or not; indeed, once screaming to a guy about a city block ahead of me, "HEY, IS THIS ABOUT IT UP HERE?" The picture to the left is actually of me finishing (I actually finished 7th overall, which may be about the highest place I have ever had in any race, ever - though it should be noted that it was about the smallest field against which I have ever competed).
Both T-Clog & I both did what we set out to do and congratulated one another with many hi-fives and a photo op with our hard-earned cedar ring finisher medals. (Behind us, you see the bottom of a 300-foot valley we ascended and descended twice during the run).
After the festivities wrapped up, it was back to Forestville State Park and our campsite which, for that evening and the next morning, was pretty much a repeat of our previous evening & morning combo.
An arrangement Sharon & I made a couple of years ago was that each of us (when we're camping with kids) would have the opportunity to have solo trail time while the other "ran defense." Again, if it was just Lucy, it'd be a wonderful nature exploration and bonding experience. With Rose on the scene, and a world of pebbly, chokable hazards (and in my case, a lack of breasts); time with the kids is pure "Playing Defense." For me, "trail time" is invariable a trail run. For Sharon, it is a birding, nature journaling hike. And that is what she got Sunday morning before we left. We were just coming off a tear and defiance-filled morning, so on my recommendation, we just packed up and dropped Sharon off at a trailhead near the edge of the State Park. I then drove both kids eight miles into the town of Preston and just hung out at a park where Lucy could amuse herself while I focused on Rose for awhile. Then it was back to pick up Sharon and then up to MSP.
Just as a result of the business of the remainder of our Fall and the obvious, following, Winter; we probably won't camp again with Rose till she's about 18 months old. And that's good. There's just something about some level of sentience that a kid goes through somewhere between a year and two years. It was the case with Lucy, anyway. At 18 months, or two years or somewhere around there, a child can be on a camping trip and get what they're doing. They can still be a handful, but they know where they are, why they're there, and generally what is expected of them. Rosie - sharp girl though she is - is pretty much stimulus/response at this point. Maybe the better way to put it is that a 10-month old is not really seeing "the big picture."
addendum: I just remembered one other highlight from the trip. Barred owls were going nuts. Both evenings and even in the following mornings, they were going crazy, hooting and responding to each other in a way that I've never heard. There was one particular stretch, in the middle of the first night, when Sharon & I were both awakened, and just couldn't believe it as we listened to this group going at it in trees surrounding our campsite. Here is an MP3 I made with my little player (which is also a voice recorder, I find), as I headed off a little path next to the river, trying to get closer to the bluffs where they were hooting (more distantly, unfortunately), the next morning. You may need headphones, and to turn them up a bit, to hear the owls and not just my footfalls and breathy narration.
http://media.putfile.com/Barred-Owls-Forestville-State-Park
Friday, September 21, 2007
Small Game Beware
The Bear and the Panther are on the loose.
The Hylton clan is heading down to Forestville/Mystery Cave State Park for Friday and Saturday night, with the intention of driving up to Eagle Bluff (about 10 miles away) for me to run the race Saturday afternoon. T-Clog, a little allergy-induced dropoff notwithstanding, will be testing the results of one of his finest periods of sustained cariovascular exercise regimines; and experience the thrill of being part of a pack of sweaty humans, bounding through the woods to the cheers and encouragement of onlookers (including Sharon, Lucy, and Rose). Personally, I don't do all that many 5k runs these days. For me, running for time rather than as a test of endurance, it's the most painful of all races. To get a good time, I need to head out at an uncomfortably fast pace, feeling herky & jerky and not into the flow, and sustain it for 20-21 greuling minutes (longer on a trail, I'm sure; I've actually never done a 5k trail race). In a longer race (10 mile, 25k, etc.), I can ease into my race pace as my body warms up over the first few miles. I've been told that I should run a mile or two to warm up my body for a 5k, but I've never really been able to bring myself to do it, thinking that I'm just going to need every ounce of energy I have for the run itself. Anyway, in the shadow of T-Clog's training is the relatively quiet reality that I, myself, am still in the midst of one of my own "longest sustained cardiovascular exercise regimines." My experiment with the health club at work began on June 9 and I'd have to say I'm still averaging five workouts a week. In recent times, with this race (and actually another race or two) looming, many of my "elliptical" workouts have given way to running over lunch and during the weekend at home. It's not been totally running-specific training, overall; so I really don't know how to guage my "running-shape," per-se; but I can say that I think I'm in about the best overall physical condition since my marathon training days. I am highly curious to put it all to the test.
I'm also looking forward to the camping. It definitely adds an element of challenge (or jsut subtracts an element of R&R), camping with a < 1 year old. Lucy's at an age of curiousity, exploration, and capabilities where almost all experiences shared with are are universally joyful. Rose, however much she may enjoy the fresh air and millions of curious new things to see, is going to need constant supervision. Especially being a lot more mobile & driven to try and stick things in her mouth than was Lucy at that age.
Forestville/Mystery Cave Park is a natural area wth multiple dimensions. I think it has the highest usage by any state park by campers on horseback. It also has some pretty fine trout streams and the wildly varied topo that is common in SE Minnesota. But the two things that really set it apart from most other MN state parks are a restored frontier town with living history presenters (Forestville), and the 12th (not sure about that stat - it's somewhere around there) largest cave in North America. 12+ miles of underground passages that have yet to all be explored, and remain at a constant 48 degrees year-round (it'd be an awesome place to camp in mid-summer). We'll be taking a one hour tour that encompasses quite a bit but apparently is hilighted with a sighting of a transluscent turquoise lake. It almost sounds a little too close to my recent Jules Verne experience for comfort. If we run into any giant lizards with sails glued on their backs, I'm outta there.
rock on, Bear!
The Hylton clan is heading down to Forestville/Mystery Cave State Park for Friday and Saturday night, with the intention of driving up to Eagle Bluff (about 10 miles away) for me to run the race Saturday afternoon. T-Clog, a little allergy-induced dropoff notwithstanding, will be testing the results of one of his finest periods of sustained cariovascular exercise regimines; and experience the thrill of being part of a pack of sweaty humans, bounding through the woods to the cheers and encouragement of onlookers (including Sharon, Lucy, and Rose). Personally, I don't do all that many 5k runs these days. For me, running for time rather than as a test of endurance, it's the most painful of all races. To get a good time, I need to head out at an uncomfortably fast pace, feeling herky & jerky and not into the flow, and sustain it for 20-21 greuling minutes (longer on a trail, I'm sure; I've actually never done a 5k trail race). In a longer race (10 mile, 25k, etc.), I can ease into my race pace as my body warms up over the first few miles. I've been told that I should run a mile or two to warm up my body for a 5k, but I've never really been able to bring myself to do it, thinking that I'm just going to need every ounce of energy I have for the run itself. Anyway, in the shadow of T-Clog's training is the relatively quiet reality that I, myself, am still in the midst of one of my own "longest sustained cardiovascular exercise regimines." My experiment with the health club at work began on June 9 and I'd have to say I'm still averaging five workouts a week. In recent times, with this race (and actually another race or two) looming, many of my "elliptical" workouts have given way to running over lunch and during the weekend at home. It's not been totally running-specific training, overall; so I really don't know how to guage my "running-shape," per-se; but I can say that I think I'm in about the best overall physical condition since my marathon training days. I am highly curious to put it all to the test.
I'm also looking forward to the camping. It definitely adds an element of challenge (or jsut subtracts an element of R&R), camping with a < 1 year old. Lucy's at an age of curiousity, exploration, and capabilities where almost all experiences shared with are are universally joyful. Rose, however much she may enjoy the fresh air and millions of curious new things to see, is going to need constant supervision. Especially being a lot more mobile & driven to try and stick things in her mouth than was Lucy at that age.
Forestville/Mystery Cave Park is a natural area wth multiple dimensions. I think it has the highest usage by any state park by campers on horseback. It also has some pretty fine trout streams and the wildly varied topo that is common in SE Minnesota. But the two things that really set it apart from most other MN state parks are a restored frontier town with living history presenters (Forestville), and the 12th (not sure about that stat - it's somewhere around there) largest cave in North America. 12+ miles of underground passages that have yet to all be explored, and remain at a constant 48 degrees year-round (it'd be an awesome place to camp in mid-summer). We'll be taking a one hour tour that encompasses quite a bit but apparently is hilighted with a sighting of a transluscent turquoise lake. It almost sounds a little too close to my recent Jules Verne experience for comfort. If we run into any giant lizards with sails glued on their backs, I'm outta there.
rock on, Bear!
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
O Me of Little Faith
Wonderful, thoughtful program on Dick Gordon's (NPR) program, The Story, on a Christian religion reporter for the LA Times who, through the course of covering the church came to such horrifying revelations about the amount of corruption in modern religion that it led him to question his own faith. Not to be missed by thinking men.
It's crazy - so soon after seeing Ivanhoe and its references to the same institutionally corrupt Cathlolic church that enacted the Inquisition, here we are in the 21st century with a (still disgracefully undercovered by the media) Catholic priest sexual abuse scandal in the midst of a church leadership that willfully covered up the truth and an entire denomination (for the most part) in a tremendous amount of self-delusion and denial. And the condoning and lack of outcry by "mainstream" clergy over televangelists & faith healers and their continual preying on a gullible (and often financially vulnerable) public? Ah, how little has really changed.
And, as I look about at the state of the world's "great" religions - specifically, the ones of the monotheistic variety, war, war, hate, hate, war, war, hate.
Most of my Christian aquaintances would probably advise me that the various failings of the church around the world are failings of men, not of God. But as William Labdell (the reporter in the program) reasons, aren't these God's institutions? For them to fail so miserably in carrying out God's will? One must begin to question whether this remains God's chosen vehicle at this point, anyway. Religion is a failure. Whether it be of God's design or man's.
I continue to have spiritual moments and a general regard for some sort of unifying oneness. But it's hard for me not to think that's not just so much hopefulness. And as for religion? I think I'd have to check "none of the above."
It's crazy - so soon after seeing Ivanhoe and its references to the same institutionally corrupt Cathlolic church that enacted the Inquisition, here we are in the 21st century with a (still disgracefully undercovered by the media) Catholic priest sexual abuse scandal in the midst of a church leadership that willfully covered up the truth and an entire denomination (for the most part) in a tremendous amount of self-delusion and denial. And the condoning and lack of outcry by "mainstream" clergy over televangelists & faith healers and their continual preying on a gullible (and often financially vulnerable) public? Ah, how little has really changed.
And, as I look about at the state of the world's "great" religions - specifically, the ones of the monotheistic variety, war, war, hate, hate, war, war, hate.
Most of my Christian aquaintances would probably advise me that the various failings of the church around the world are failings of men, not of God. But as William Labdell (the reporter in the program) reasons, aren't these God's institutions? For them to fail so miserably in carrying out God's will? One must begin to question whether this remains God's chosen vehicle at this point, anyway. Religion is a failure. Whether it be of God's design or man's.
I continue to have spiritual moments and a general regard for some sort of unifying oneness. But it's hard for me not to think that's not just so much hopefulness. And as for religion? I think I'd have to check "none of the above."
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Ivanhoe & Shadows and Fog
Watched Ivanhoe:
Wow. In this 6-hour epic (originally a BBC-filmed miniseries, I think), I got caught up in a way I have not in a long, long time. A lot of it had to do with the gloriously long and detailed character and plot development; the sort of thing that would make Hollywood executives cringe. As I think I mentioned to Mixdorf, this film had all the wonderful setting and exposition of the first Lord of the Rings movie, with none of the cheap one-liners and plot conventions of the third. This type of historical fiction I really dig, to begin with; as it is set in the same end-0f-the-3rd crusade world as Robin Hood, with (an admittedly idealized version of) King Richard returning to England to reclaim the throne from his treacherous brother, John. In the midst of all the complex characters & storyline, never fear; there's plenty of villainy for Ivanhoe to overcome, from John to the corrupt Knights Templar, and Norman nobility in general. One thing that was kind of funny - the running time was listed on one of the two discs as 150 minutes, which I was expecting for the length of the entire movie. At the end of two nights of two+ hour viewing, I was like "What the hell is going on here?" Of course, I was enjoying the whole thing, so I was actually joyful when I discovered "Oh.....that's the running time for disc one!" Anyway, 5 Netflix stars.
Also watched Shadows and Fog:
This Woody Allen film was a lot more of a cinematic effort (as opposed to a plot & dialogue exploration) than the majority of his films. The whole thing is set in a very m00d-enducing black and white, often through, yes, a fog and often in a very low contrast. It was actually kind of refreshing that it was difficult to see people even moving around during many of the night scenes (as opposed to in most movies, where it's obvious that the sun is shining during the "night" scenes, and they're just using some crazy filter). Definitely adds all the more to the creepiness of the story, which is bascially the W.A. character being summoned by a vigilante group out into the night to help entrap a serial strangler, but then being left totally on his own to wander the streets. Appearances by a crazy number of name actors and some unexpected plot developments add ineterest to the whole experience, even as things plod along a little, at times. This would be a classic 3 1/2 stars for me, if that option was available on Netflix. It's not, so I'd say it's a little closer to a 4 than a 3.
Wow. In this 6-hour epic (originally a BBC-filmed miniseries, I think), I got caught up in a way I have not in a long, long time. A lot of it had to do with the gloriously long and detailed character and plot development; the sort of thing that would make Hollywood executives cringe. As I think I mentioned to Mixdorf, this film had all the wonderful setting and exposition of the first Lord of the Rings movie, with none of the cheap one-liners and plot conventions of the third. This type of historical fiction I really dig, to begin with; as it is set in the same end-0f-the-3rd crusade world as Robin Hood, with (an admittedly idealized version of) King Richard returning to England to reclaim the throne from his treacherous brother, John. In the midst of all the complex characters & storyline, never fear; there's plenty of villainy for Ivanhoe to overcome, from John to the corrupt Knights Templar, and Norman nobility in general. One thing that was kind of funny - the running time was listed on one of the two discs as 150 minutes, which I was expecting for the length of the entire movie. At the end of two nights of two+ hour viewing, I was like "What the hell is going on here?" Of course, I was enjoying the whole thing, so I was actually joyful when I discovered "Oh.....that's the running time for disc one!" Anyway, 5 Netflix stars.
Also watched Shadows and Fog:
This Woody Allen film was a lot more of a cinematic effort (as opposed to a plot & dialogue exploration) than the majority of his films. The whole thing is set in a very m00d-enducing black and white, often through, yes, a fog and often in a very low contrast. It was actually kind of refreshing that it was difficult to see people even moving around during many of the night scenes (as opposed to in most movies, where it's obvious that the sun is shining during the "night" scenes, and they're just using some crazy filter). Definitely adds all the more to the creepiness of the story, which is bascially the W.A. character being summoned by a vigilante group out into the night to help entrap a serial strangler, but then being left totally on his own to wander the streets. Appearances by a crazy number of name actors and some unexpected plot developments add ineterest to the whole experience, even as things plod along a little, at times. This would be a classic 3 1/2 stars for me, if that option was available on Netflix. It's not, so I'd say it's a little closer to a 4 than a 3.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Bad Film Hat Trick
Saw: Journey to the Center of the Earth
1963 screen adaptation of the Jules Verne classic becomes another contributing factor to the nagging suspicion that I may be losing the soft spot in my heart for the campy 60s. A collection of one-dimensional characters I care nothing about thrown into a disjointed storyline with plot holes galore are definitely not overcome by what is, admittedly, a pretty dazzlingly colorful backdrop. Not recommended. 2 out of 5 Netflix stars.
Saw: Dr. Who: In the Beginning
First set of episodes (you know - the Dr. Who's, as I discover, are produced as a series miniseries), including the original pilot episode, which introduces the characters of the Doctor, his granddaughter, and the two science teachers, and follows their adventure as they are thrown backwards into time to witness, and become involved with, a series of cavemen with British accents discovering fire. I was really looking forward to this. Unfortunately, the crappy writing, trite storyline, and marginal acting left me really flat. Really. Another knock on the campy 60s. Also, 2 out of 5 Netflix stars.
Saw: MST3K: The Dead Talk Back
Saw this with a friend, while somewhat inebriated. The potential would seem to have been there, with a mad scientist who solves crimes after creating a radio that can talk to the dead. Unfortunately, the crew was either not up to their usual standards of excellence or else the raw material just wasn't there. For whatever reason - I did not enjoy this one nearly as much as I usually do. I have yet to meet the man or woman who enjoys MST3K as much as I. But this one was a mere 3 of 5 Netflix stars.
1963 screen adaptation of the Jules Verne classic becomes another contributing factor to the nagging suspicion that I may be losing the soft spot in my heart for the campy 60s. A collection of one-dimensional characters I care nothing about thrown into a disjointed storyline with plot holes galore are definitely not overcome by what is, admittedly, a pretty dazzlingly colorful backdrop. Not recommended. 2 out of 5 Netflix stars.
Saw: Dr. Who: In the Beginning
First set of episodes (you know - the Dr. Who's, as I discover, are produced as a series miniseries), including the original pilot episode, which introduces the characters of the Doctor, his granddaughter, and the two science teachers, and follows their adventure as they are thrown backwards into time to witness, and become involved with, a series of cavemen with British accents discovering fire. I was really looking forward to this. Unfortunately, the crappy writing, trite storyline, and marginal acting left me really flat. Really. Another knock on the campy 60s. Also, 2 out of 5 Netflix stars.
Saw: MST3K: The Dead Talk Back
Saw this with a friend, while somewhat inebriated. The potential would seem to have been there, with a mad scientist who solves crimes after creating a radio that can talk to the dead. Unfortunately, the crew was either not up to their usual standards of excellence or else the raw material just wasn't there. For whatever reason - I did not enjoy this one nearly as much as I usually do. I have yet to meet the man or woman who enjoys MST3K as much as I. But this one was a mere 3 of 5 Netflix stars.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
A Quick Read and Last Stand for the 19" Sharp
Read Montessori Insights for Parents of Young Children: This longish book/booklet was recommended to all parents of students at Lucy's school, as it covers pratical ways of creating a Montessori environment in the home; both as a way to supplement and support what's going on in the classroom, as well as to foster an environment generally conducive to learning. I'm not going to go on one of my personal parenting philosophy rants I may have been guilty of a couple of years ago, but I will simply say that, for anyone considering having kids, I would highly recommend at least exploring the Montessori method (really, as much about lifestyle and philosophical choices as an academic program), and the ideas behind sensitive periods of learning and the absorbent mind. I hope the terminology doesn't make it sound like Scientology or anything. It's all stuff that seems very intuitive (to me). It's just been nice to discover an entire system of learning seemingly designed around my personal beliefs and value system. Plus, it's nice whenever I can learn about some of the psychological and scientific theory behind the philosophy. It's a subject I'd be very happy to speak more about with anybody, in person. Or feel free to borrow the book.
Watched Bourne Supremacy: Alas, this was pre-new TV. What can I say? This is not the sort of movie I am normally drawn to, but it's a type I can certainly get drawn into. A couple of friends (friends that are "a couple") invited us over for a movie watching a year or two ago, and Bourne Identity was the feature in play. It was good. Really good, in fact; though I got the sneaking suspicion that there's about a dozen or so movies that come out every year that don't differ a whole heck of a lot from that formula. You know: Espionage. Blow-ups. Secret CIA missions so complex you know our bumbling government agencies couldn't possibly be capable of such machinations is real life. Anyway, the sequel (Bourne....SUPREMACY!!! Effing-YEAH!) is more of the same. Also very riveting, and very well done. Not much more to add than that. Four stars on Netflix.
Also Watched: Rashomon: Beautifully shot, a bit sluggishly paced. Storyline (five versions of the "truth;" who do you believe?) was perhaps groundbreaking in it's day, but I did not find that it stood the test of time as well as I'd hoped. As well as I'd even remembered, even; as I did see the film in college and remembered liking it quite a bit. This was the last film I saw on the old TV - I would love to have seen that stark and haunting cinematography on the New Widescreen, but we all want lots of things we can't have.
Watched Bourne Supremacy: Alas, this was pre-new TV. What can I say? This is not the sort of movie I am normally drawn to, but it's a type I can certainly get drawn into. A couple of friends (friends that are "a couple") invited us over for a movie watching a year or two ago, and Bourne Identity was the feature in play. It was good. Really good, in fact; though I got the sneaking suspicion that there's about a dozen or so movies that come out every year that don't differ a whole heck of a lot from that formula. You know: Espionage. Blow-ups. Secret CIA missions so complex you know our bumbling government agencies couldn't possibly be capable of such machinations is real life. Anyway, the sequel (Bourne....SUPREMACY!!! Effing-YEAH!) is more of the same. Also very riveting, and very well done. Not much more to add than that. Four stars on Netflix.
Also Watched: Rashomon: Beautifully shot, a bit sluggishly paced. Storyline (five versions of the "truth;" who do you believe?) was perhaps groundbreaking in it's day, but I did not find that it stood the test of time as well as I'd hoped. As well as I'd even remembered, even; as I did see the film in college and remembered liking it quite a bit. This was the last film I saw on the old TV - I would love to have seen that stark and haunting cinematography on the New Widescreen, but we all want lots of things we can't have.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
In the Can
OK, this one was done in about two hours today. It was actually easier, as there was only the merest skeleton of a guide as to how the music would go. I was pretty much free to do whatever the Hell I wanted to do within the context of the lyrics (again, by Valerie) and the idea it was to be a duet by two Work House inmates involved in the original building of the (now) historical TB Hospital. I took that to mean it would be something you'd expect to see in a modern musical.
Click here to listen to 'In-the-Can'
Click here to listen to 'In-the-Can'
Mississlonely
Guitar chords transcribed, all parts performed & recorded, song mixed, CD burned all in about three hours.
My theatre company is making our annual appearance at Mississippi Heritage Day, and our dramaturg, Valerie, penned some lyrics to be sung to the tune of "Mr. Lonely," by Bobby Vinton. Sharon (in sparkly, blue wig and long flowing blue gown) will be portraying The Mississippi River and singing a karoke version of this recording on Sept. 28.
For now, I threw in some vocals as a guide.
Much fun, as doo-wop is near and dear to my heart. But also one of my most productive, intensive, slapdash nights of recording ever; showing what one is capable of with a simple thing like a real deadline.
Click here to hear 'Mississlonely'
My theatre company is making our annual appearance at Mississippi Heritage Day, and our dramaturg, Valerie, penned some lyrics to be sung to the tune of "Mr. Lonely," by Bobby Vinton. Sharon (in sparkly, blue wig and long flowing blue gown) will be portraying The Mississippi River and singing a karoke version of this recording on Sept. 28.
For now, I threw in some vocals as a guide.
Much fun, as doo-wop is near and dear to my heart. But also one of my most productive, intensive, slapdash nights of recording ever; showing what one is capable of with a simple thing like a real deadline.
Click here to hear 'Mississlonely'
Friday, August 31, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
"High" Sierra
Watched: High Sierra
Wasn't I recently talking about the "non-classic" movie? Sort of the way one might refer to "imperfect man."
Well, this Humphrey Bogart stinker survived through the years in spite of its sketchy premise, and a combination of bad acting and badly written dialog that had to haved seemed square and out-of-touch even in 1941. It had to have. Bogart, in his first starring role, still appears at least two and a half times the age of one of his two romantic interests, and is utterly unbelievable as a streetwise ex-con. Of course, the couple of ne'er-do-wells he hooks up with for a heist make guys that played crooks on Andy Griffith look like the entourage of Pacman Jones.
It might be worth it for you to catch this movie if you want to brush up on your Mystery Science Theatre 3000 "skewering skills," but other than that, don't waste your time.
Wasn't I recently talking about the "non-classic" movie? Sort of the way one might refer to "imperfect man."
Well, this Humphrey Bogart stinker survived through the years in spite of its sketchy premise, and a combination of bad acting and badly written dialog that had to haved seemed square and out-of-touch even in 1941. It had to have. Bogart, in his first starring role, still appears at least two and a half times the age of one of his two romantic interests, and is utterly unbelievable as a streetwise ex-con. Of course, the couple of ne'er-do-wells he hooks up with for a heist make guys that played crooks on Andy Griffith look like the entourage of Pacman Jones.
It might be worth it for you to catch this movie if you want to brush up on your Mystery Science Theatre 3000 "skewering skills," but other than that, don't waste your time.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Small Miracles
There is an old joke about a guy who is on top of his house with flood waters rising all about. A man in a rowboat happens by and asks the man to climb aboard. He replied, "No, thanks, my faith in God will save me." Next, a helicopter passes overhead and drops him a rope ladder. "No, thanks, my faith in God will save me." And so on and so forth. Of course, the guy drowns. Up in heaven, he asks God why he didn't save him and God replies, "What's the matter with you? First I sent you a boat, then I sent you a helicopter...."
I forget what, exactly, was this impetus for this - perhaps a series of discussions Sharon & I had about how people tend to make their own luck - but Sharon decided, a little under a month ago (when we were facing out latest monetary crisis of realizing all of the water supply pipes in our house will need replaced), that she would stop sort of wafting through life, reacting to disaster and challenge as they arose, but instead begin actively seeking out 'miracles,' with a goal of a miracle a day. Mind you - this is not 'miracle' in the religious sense, though maybe the cosmic sense. And some would be as small as discovering Minnesota-grown apples on sale for $1.19/lb, but miracles on a larger scale would certainly be welcome, and even expected.
So far, it seems to have been an unqualified success. A lot of minor tribulations of life seem to be sorting themselves out, but the crowning achievement of 'miracles' has been what's going to happen with Lucy's $485 month tuition for school, which starts next month: Sharon has been hired on again to do a monthly naturalist program for $100 a shot (knocking tuition cost cown to, effectively, $385/month). We just also just made our last payment on the Saturn (minus another $129 - down to $256). Then, the biggest 'miracle' of all: in the spirit of this new endeavor, Sharon actually filled out a need-based scholarship application & submitted it to the school. Exceeding our wildest expectations, they granted us a $135/month scholarship. Essentially, we have to find a way to come up with $121 beyond what we were finding in the budget through the majority of the summer. We can totally do that.
Thank heavens for small miracles.
I forget what, exactly, was this impetus for this - perhaps a series of discussions Sharon & I had about how people tend to make their own luck - but Sharon decided, a little under a month ago (when we were facing out latest monetary crisis of realizing all of the water supply pipes in our house will need replaced), that she would stop sort of wafting through life, reacting to disaster and challenge as they arose, but instead begin actively seeking out 'miracles,' with a goal of a miracle a day. Mind you - this is not 'miracle' in the religious sense, though maybe the cosmic sense. And some would be as small as discovering Minnesota-grown apples on sale for $1.19/lb, but miracles on a larger scale would certainly be welcome, and even expected.
So far, it seems to have been an unqualified success. A lot of minor tribulations of life seem to be sorting themselves out, but the crowning achievement of 'miracles' has been what's going to happen with Lucy's $485 month tuition for school, which starts next month: Sharon has been hired on again to do a monthly naturalist program for $100 a shot (knocking tuition cost cown to, effectively, $385/month). We just also just made our last payment on the Saturn (minus another $129 - down to $256). Then, the biggest 'miracle' of all: in the spirit of this new endeavor, Sharon actually filled out a need-based scholarship application & submitted it to the school. Exceeding our wildest expectations, they granted us a $135/month scholarship. Essentially, we have to find a way to come up with $121 beyond what we were finding in the budget through the majority of the summer. We can totally do that.
Thank heavens for small miracles.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
One Big, Not-So-Happy Family (Husbands & Wives and the Children of Húrin)
Read: Narn i Chîn Húrin (The Children of Húrin)
GREAT. Great, great, great, great, great. For the (legions of) people who appreciate the character-driven, powerful portrayal of daily trials, personalities, and themes of friendship and loyalty found in The Lord of the Rings, and for the (somewhat smaller number of) people who appreciated the sweeping, cataclysmic majesty of The Simarillion; The Children of Húrin is a most satisfying blend of the two. Set against the giant, almost Biblical backdrop of the 'First Age' of Middle Earth as depicted in the Simarillion, The Children of Húrin is far more accessible (quite a quick read); expanding upon the tragic character of one Túrin, son of Húrin, as he does his heroic best to aid the the races of men & elves against what is essentially the forces of an evil, fallen god; yet, by rash disregard of wise counsel or plain ill fortune, ultimately brings ruin to everyone and everything he holds dear. Lord of the Rings will forever make my blood run swiftly, inciting noble thoughts of friendship, heroism, and perserverence. The Children of Húrin will always break my heart. A small and beautiful, yet heartbreaking little tale against an annihilative backdrop involving the fall of Kings and the fall of cities, ever in the background but inexorably tied to Turin's doom.
Seen: Husbands and Wives:
Well, it's tough to follow that. But this was a really good Woody Allen character film. Fairly recent, it follows two married couples and examines the forces that to drive the unions apart and keep them together through typically (for Allen) witty dialogue and clever story-development. Not unlike Crimes & Misdemeanors (which I actually preferred, as a movie), in it's cynicism, but it definitely throws some interesting characters into the blender - even if (like in most Woody Allen movies), I can't really relate to very much of his uptown-Manhattan lifestyle.
GREAT. Great, great, great, great, great. For the (legions of) people who appreciate the character-driven, powerful portrayal of daily trials, personalities, and themes of friendship and loyalty found in The Lord of the Rings, and for the (somewhat smaller number of) people who appreciated the sweeping, cataclysmic majesty of The Simarillion; The Children of Húrin is a most satisfying blend of the two. Set against the giant, almost Biblical backdrop of the 'First Age' of Middle Earth as depicted in the Simarillion, The Children of Húrin is far more accessible (quite a quick read); expanding upon the tragic character of one Túrin, son of Húrin, as he does his heroic best to aid the the races of men & elves against what is essentially the forces of an evil, fallen god; yet, by rash disregard of wise counsel or plain ill fortune, ultimately brings ruin to everyone and everything he holds dear. Lord of the Rings will forever make my blood run swiftly, inciting noble thoughts of friendship, heroism, and perserverence. The Children of Húrin will always break my heart. A small and beautiful, yet heartbreaking little tale against an annihilative backdrop involving the fall of Kings and the fall of cities, ever in the background but inexorably tied to Turin's doom.
Seen: Husbands and Wives:
Well, it's tough to follow that. But this was a really good Woody Allen character film. Fairly recent, it follows two married couples and examines the forces that to drive the unions apart and keep them together through typically (for Allen) witty dialogue and clever story-development. Not unlike Crimes & Misdemeanors (which I actually preferred, as a movie), in it's cynicism, but it definitely throws some interesting characters into the blender - even if (like in most Woody Allen movies), I can't really relate to very much of his uptown-Manhattan lifestyle.
10
Sharon & my 10-year anniversary today.
For lack of babysitter resources and time for planning, we are not actually going to be able to do anything tonight other than spend some brief moments together after the kids are in bed. But I think that is really representative of the stage of our family right now (e.g. preschooler & infant In The House), as well as the general course of our married life together, to this date: our time together may be hard to come by, but it is precious, and never taken for granted.
We're hoping to get out this weekend to see a play and eat a good meal. The Coast 2 Coast hike in northern England will have to wait a few years.
For lack of babysitter resources and time for planning, we are not actually going to be able to do anything tonight other than spend some brief moments together after the kids are in bed. But I think that is really representative of the stage of our family right now (e.g. preschooler & infant In The House), as well as the general course of our married life together, to this date: our time together may be hard to come by, but it is precious, and never taken for granted.
We're hoping to get out this weekend to see a play and eat a good meal. The Coast 2 Coast hike in northern England will have to wait a few years.
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