before I put it back on the shelf...

It's somehow appropriate for the weather - finish a book about the desert, and 6 inches of snow fall on Michigan. Just finished reading Edward Abbey's book Desert Solitaire. Abbey is controversial all by himself. In wilderness preservation radicalism, he's the arche-, proto- and stereotype. He maintained unflinching views of what wilderness is and should be, and wasn't hesitant to say what he meant. And while his politics developed over the years to be even more controversial, this book stays more or less in the desert.

Some of it flits by in graceful imagery "I was still young myself, or thought I was, enjoying good health, not quite to the beginning of the middle of the journey," and some of it becomes clunky, overstated, and absurd "Civilization is mutual aid and self-defense; culture is the judge, the lawbook and the forces of Law and Ordure; Civilization is uprising and insurrection, revolution; culture is the war of state against state..."

But before I start sounding like an armchair book-jacket copy writer - some of the things that caught my attention or got me nodding.

On Wilderness and Parks, Accessibility, and Roads

"What about children? What about the aged and infirm? Frankly, we need to waste little sympathy on these two pressure groups. Children too small to ride bicycles and too heavy to be borne on their parent's backs need only wait a few years... The aged merit even less sympathy: after all they had the opportunity to see the country when it was still relatively unspoiled... "

"A man on foot, on horseback, or on a bicycle will see more, feel more, enjoy more in one mile than the motorized tourists can in a hundred miles. Those who are familiar with both modes of travel know from experience that this is true; the rest have only to make the experiment to discover the same truth for themselves."

On Population and Water (particularly in the West and California):

"Water, water, water... There is no shortage of water in the desert, but exactly the right amount, a perfect ratio of water to rock, or water to sand, insuring that wide, free , open, generous spacing among plants and animals, homes and towns and cities... There is no lack of water here, unless you try to establish a city where no city should be."

On Population:

"It will be objected that a constantly increasing population makes resistance and conservation a hopeless battle. This is true. Unless a way is found to stabilize the nation's population, the parks cannot be saved. Or anything else worth a damn."

In a section about the Navajo, he makes a point applicable to broader populations

"In the long run, their economic difficulties can only be solved when and if out society as a whole is willing to make an honest effort to eliminate poverty. By honest effort, as opposed to the current dishonest effort with it's emphasis on phoney social services which benefit no one but the professional social workers, I mean a direct confrontation with the two actual basic causes of poverty: (1) too many children and... (2) too little money... Social justice in this country means social surgery - carving some of the fat off the wide bottom of the American middle class."

It's something I keep coming back to over and over. Overpopulation. Why are we humans consuming ever more and more energy? Creating more and more garbage? There's this competition to out-breed other religions (the real motivation behind Roman Catholic bans on condoms, etc.), out-breed other cultures, out-breed other nations. We're guilty of the shortsighted inconsiderate greed of believing that we are right and everyone else is wrong. Whether it's neighbors, cities, nations, or entire cultures. We might see the effect and want for a better world, but we need to act our beliefs and not just give it lip service. Not succumb to the gleeful Fuck Yeahs of the Biggest Lawnmower On The Block, or Shiniest Granite Countertops, or Little League MVP. And where does that all come from? Conformance to an image of an ideal our parents or grandparents were sold while they weren't watching. We need to not be afraid to be who we are - who we were before we let someone else convince us to be ashamed of ourselves for not being like them. Whether that's buying a Toyota Prius, or breeding buckets of children.

And lastly, while I'm an amateur careerist navel-gazer, some observations are refreshingly familiar

".. my theory is that solipsism, like other absurdities of the professional philosopher, is a product of too much time wasted in library stacks between the covers of a book, in smoke-filled coffeehouses and conversation-clogged seminars. To refute the solipsist or the metaphysical idealists all that you have to do is take him out and throw a rock at his head: if he ducks he's a liar. His logic may be airtight but his argument, far from revealing the delusions of living experience, only exposes the limitations of logic."

Dominic Wilcox

Some good pieces I like, but can't remember how I found... check out Switch, War Bowl ... heck, Ivy Shelf would be pretty easy to do at home.

alternatives in time for the holidays

From Sabrina Abbott, via McSweeney's: alternatives to "... and they lived happily ever after."

And they barely tolerated each other.

And they stayed together because of the kids.

And their contempt for one another occasionally spilled over at family gatherings, prompting moments of uncomfortable silence.

And they expressed their unhappiness through passive-aggressive toilet-seat positioning.

on what planet?

Spats are back. Apparently. According to some. A tip o' the helmet to BikeSnobNYC for not only the continuing chuckles at the expense of hipster-diculousness, but the timely fashion news.

Some years ago in a store I saw spats on some basketball shoes, but I thought it might have just been a momentary blip in the Footlocker Fashion. Apparently they made their way into football too.

Sheesh. When the High School marching band uniform had spats included, I sure wish I had scammed me a pair. I'd be stylin' now. Fo' sho'.

just because

I can't remember where I saw this, but it seemed pithy enough that I wrote it down... if only now I could remember.

"Congress does not pay attention to the NRA because they are full of wisdom, they pay attention because the NRA is full of money, influence, and trouble."

For some reason, it's the "trouble" part of it that I like. Maybe because I don't have money or influence like the NRA does, but I'm full of trouble. Makes me feel like if I just work a little bit harder at being a prickly curmudgeon I could make Congress pay attention to me.

...alright, maybe I'll need the money and influence first.

because it's there?

Why do we create? I mean, as a species.

I look back to this summer while backpacking out in the desert and the encounter and small talk with the lone German Tourist on the trail. She had a wooden flute with her. It's clear it was her self-defense flute. When crossing paths with strangers far from civilization, apparently having a cudgel (musical or otherwise) at hand gives some comfort. But let's assume that she didn't carry it around solely for self-defense. Assume for the moment that she was hiking in the wilderness without water, food or extra gear. Shorts, T-shirt, sneakers, flute, camera. She wasn't planning on staying overnight.

So she consciously packed her flute. To play it out in the desert. Why? What does that mean to her? She's the only one who will hear her. And she's not the only one . There are visual artists or writers who never exhibit or publish in their lifetime. Their works are found only after their death.

"It's just a part of the human spirit - to create" is too easy an answer. To what end do we do? If we have free will, that conflicts with compulsion by some extra-corporal forces like environmental/evolutionary pressures to create art. If it were some complex form of sub-/pre-/meta- mating ritual performance, the solo artist would be an evolutionary dead end. It would have been eliminated from our genetic repertoire long ago.

It is an act of anthropological vandalism? Make a mark on the world to prove we were here. Not wanting to feel alone in the world. For some taggers, spray paint on a boxcar that travels across the country takes them to places they never otherwise would go. For some breeders, their children are the "me I never was".

On the desert trail, rock cairns mark trails, but when you come across an alcove filled with them, it's not just marking the path. It's a statement. The first cairn marked a path. The second one wasn't redundant - is said "Kilroy was here". After the 20th or 30th, maybe it becomes a competition. Creation as a competitive act?




Or is it just boredom? Too simple there, too. Sure, in boredom, idle tapping can become a rhythm, a beat, a song. Doodles become an image. But the intentional, planned, staged effort of sculpture or performance? That's not boredom. Boredom with the addition of a competitive streak, evolved beyond its source or origins, maybe.

I don't get it... I usually get off things like that

No surprising admission here - I use Wikipedia. I use it, you use it, he/she/it uses it, we use it, they use it, they use it. In the nature of giving back to the community, I figured I'd do a little work for them, and along the way, maybe learn something new. Particularly, I wanted to have an excuse to learn/use Inkscape. (I gushed over GIMP, but it isn't a tool for vector graphics manipulation. Which I have occasion to do. And Inkscape is, like GIMP, pretty good at it. Again... full-featured, open source/free, multi-platform, etc.) To kill two birds with one stone, I'll learn a bit about Inkscape, do something with what I learned, then learn a little about Wikipedia contributions and then do something with what I learned.

Along the way creating/uploading derivative work I want to be sure I'm attributing properly and editing/linking cleanly in Wikipedia, and thus I find myself in a morass of legalese and wikitext/links that baffle my normally tenaciously inquisitive mind. (I mean, we're talking about a bloke (me) who willingly spent hours digging through web pages and on the phone to figure out exactly how to know whether you're standing on federally/publically-owned land, or if you're on Billy-Joe-Jim-Bob's little patch of privately-owned meth lab heaven.)

Most of the time my overanalysis nit-picking engine kicks in and I can't be disengaged without a pry bar. But the Wikicheese just is too much. I took the easy way out. Made a good faith effort, stuck the new image up, think I covered everything and I'm done. Usually figuring out the "right" way to do something, especially when firmly embedded in the morass of bureaucracy, is something I engage in and relish for relishing's sake. What happened to me?

Am I losing my overanalysis fetish? Hopefully it's just a temporary thing. What would my navel do without me to gaze at it?

new for the ears and the toes

Been having a hard time with descriptions... trying to pick out words that describe well (but not tritely or predictably) this band I saw Wednesday at TC's for She Bang night... The Shondes The best I can come up with? I felt ridden hard and put away wet.

Sure, the music reviewers have compared them to Sleater-Kinney and Rasputina, and while they've got hints of those, (if Sleater-Kinney had richer instrumentation, if Rasputina didn't have the goth/vintage aesthetics) they're definitely themselves.

Bassist/frontwoman Solomon has a huuuge voice - a big hand that grabbed on and shoved into my head in about 3 seconds. Punchy, full... niiice.

Georgina (who speaks from the experience of having been to lots and lots and lots of shows) commented "she sounds great, but there's no way she can keep that up the entire set." ... which Solomon then went and did, and then some. Sure, it was a school night and not a long set, but .... damn.

I could say more here gushing on and on, but I'll just stop after saying that they're my latest most delicious new ear thing. Check 'em out... they have two songs on their myspace page. "Let's Go" is not exactly they best example - the live show and the CD are better represented by "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow".

Better yet, go see 'em live. In St. Paul, MN this Sunday, Dec. 2 and in Portland, OR Dec. 8 next weekend.

"everything?" "Everything." - redux (amended)

There a saying out in The Land - one I generally ascribe to: "Everything Is Better With Bacon - Including Bacon." I've espoused the merits and pleasure of bacon before, and I'll do it again...

For my birthday celebration recently, Ypsipearl got me (along with the Stone 11th Anniversary Ale) a Vosges gourmet chocolate bar. A BACON chocolate bar. I'd been holding off for just the right opportunity to crack it open and have some nibblin's, and that day was today. And no, I have no idea why I held off this long.

Well, the verdict is in: everything IS better with bacon. Including chocolate. Granted, some of the delightful pleasure has to do with the bonus inclusion of some smoke-flavored salt in the chocolate, but I'll give it an unrestrained thumbs-up in general.

As for the Stone 11th Anniversary Ale, it's big, roasty, a little sweet, and with a medium linger. Leans towards a Scotch Ale on the nose and tongue but not as sweet, tangy like a black beer, and a little heady. Good thing I don't need my car keys to get to my couch tonight.

... mmm, nummers.

Everything Better With Bacon Amendment (EBWBA) - talking with Daye at Punkin Fest, the notion of a bacon Immersion Garnish in a cocktail might not be the best idea. The bacon would probably get soggy and the salt would disappear. But if the bacon isn't IN the cocktail, maybe just a twist on the rim or something, then it would be OK... right?

driving while _____ing

Came across this tidbit, which had a couple thought nuggets associated...
- It's not the hands that are to blame when drivers crash/wreck/kill because they were on the phone. It's that they are distracted from the spatial reasoning required to pilot a vehicle because they are engaging the verbal centers of their brain. The distraction is because of the conflict in attention, not because their hands are occupied. And if you think it's easy to synthesize motor skills and language centers, try rubbing belly/patting head while simultaneously memorizing a few sentences of written text. You can do one or the other effectively, but both of them only poorly.
-The study is inherently flawed... they were studying the first driver stopped at a line of cars at an intersection. Only the first one. Stopped. At an intersection. If you want to see what people are doing while driving, it should be...(wait for it...) ... While They Are Driving. [sheesh] You know... like in the middle of the block. Of course people unwrap their burgers or dial their phones or sort their playlists when they get to a stop light. They aren't driving. They're stopped.
- A good point or two... that hands-free kits aren't the solution to anything (other than to boost flagging sales of hands-free kits). They free up your hands so you can drive, talk on the phone, masturbate AND eat at the same time.

Been away a while with the Cranksgiving, but now that's over. Back to the regular shenanigans. Check out xkcd:

gushing over _____ today

I'm not much of a photo/graphic manipulator/maker myself, but I do always like to keep my eye out for good tools.

Sometime you want photo tweaking, sometime you want vector graphics creation, sometimes you want a universal translator to turn those EPS files into JPGs. There's times when you want CAD-like functionality without the CAD overhead. Times when MS Paint just doesn't do the trick. Times when iPhoto sucks (almost all the time).

Ladies and Gentlemen, may I recommend... The GIMP.

I've known about it for a while, but haven't yet had to reason/opportunity to play with it. While the interface is a little unfamiliar and overall conceptual structure takes a little adjusting to, it's a fantastic piece of software. Especially when you consider that it's free. Yes, Free. No guilty complex about that copy of PhotoShop that you "borrowed" from the office or "are evaluating" way past the trial period. It's got tons of capabilities, and it's cross-platform and multi-lingual, so Mac/Windows/Linux zealots don't have anything to bitch about. The UI layout is consistent across OSes (unlike Mac apps on Win or Win apps on Mac).

I'm not going to lie to you... in order to do even medium-complexity stuff, you have to get used to the concepts of layers, paths, channels, and selection masks, which can be a little strange. But once you're beyond that, it's pretty sweet. Keyboard shortcuts, scripting features... etc. etc. I could go on, but you should give it a try yourself.

busy boy

Haven't been posting much lately - been spending that time working on getting Cranksgiving organized. I'll be sure to rant and blather more soon, mmmkay?

Cranksgiving Ann Arbor

Alrightey folks, it's ON.

Come one, come all to Cranksgiving... bring your bike, a bag, some cash, and a lock (helmet be a good idea too) and come on out.

Rain/shine/snow there'll be prizes in all sorts of categories and probably some sort of raffle - everyone has a chance at winnin's.

how sadly ironic

I help out with a local volunteer organization called Neighborhood Senior Services. The crux of the organization is to have volunteers to help seniors who live in their own homes with minor tasks (grocery shopping, help around the house, etc.) and in the case of those who are single, widowed, widowers, or otherwise living alone, provide some companionship in the form of coming by for an occassional visit. Basically, a Senior Citizen version of Big Brother/Big Sister.

So the irony here... I'm taking this very nice lady to the eye doctor for outpatient laser surgery (15 minute procedure... for surgery! wacky.) I wheel her into the opthamology office, take her up to the desk, and after talking with the receptionist, she's handed the check-in paperwork that has medical release blahblahblah at the bottom in fine print.

WTF? This lady who is obviously 80+ years old, with imperfect eyesight, who IS HERE FOR SURGERY TO IMPROVE HER VISION, is supposed to be able to read the fine print? Are you kidding me?

Among my many gripes with our health care system is the clickwrap (or contract of adhesion) that applies to the fine print. You agree to give up all claims of liability, and permit the health care megaplex to do whatever they want with your personal information, or else they won't touch you with a ten foot pole. Same goes for credit card companies, cell phone service providers, ISPs (you know, those "addendums" you get in the mail that change the terms and conditions of your service plan every month).

But seriously, folks... I can understand when people who are able to read the fine print choose not to be bothered by it, but giving fine print to a woman whose vision is poor and is seeking surgery to correct it? And expecting her to just sign it? She signed it, but obviously had no idea what it read.

Does this bother anyone else? It bugs me, that's for sure.

it's wednesday already, ain't it...

Yesh. Overdue happenings. Action-packed weekend.

Start with a trip out to Grand Rapids for the IMBA trail school thingie. Pretty cool, actually. For 3 hours they talked about all kinds of things like Fall Lines, Grade Reversals, Outslope, and los of other stuff. Making good trails and trail systems to ride bikes on, that last a long time, that are copacetic with hikers and equestrians, don't need much maintenance... and are fun to ride on. Gotta say, those Trail Care Crew folks have a pretty cool job. Drive back and forth across the country showing people how to build trails, and along the way getting to ride all those trails too.

So the presentation is over, and they lunch gets put out on tables, but I have to bail because I've got a 2 hour drive back before PunkinFest, and I head out to the parking lot. Realizing that I left some swag inside, I go back, and when I walk out again, there's a couple people on the way in from the parking lot chatting near the sidewalk. Double take. Triple take. Holy shit... that's... that's... I know who she is, but brain not working... I just watched Off Road To Athens last week, and she's an Olympian and a pro and National Champ, and World Champ and an ass-kicker and .... I was caught so off-guard I could not think of her name. GAH. It escaped me. I felt ashamed, but I managed to eek out a starstruck "uhm, Hi. you're... uhm... pretty cool." She's there with her husband and a friend and asks if I know these trails, and of course I'd never been there before today, so I feel sillier, even.

In the car 2 minutes later, names come easy: Allison Dunlap. I'm such a dweeb. Apparently she's in town because her husband's family lives nearby, so visiting and all. Anyway, so that's my star-sighting/feeling like a dork moment for the month.

So then I drive back to AA in time to get a quick disco nap before heading out to Pete & Wendy's PunkinFest (Barn Christening) Party. Good times, there. Tons of food, drink, and merriment. Union Pulse was going to Canada for a gig, but got turned back at the border, so they came to the barn instead and played a set for the partiers. After the live music, some 80's tunes made their way into the audio and Brooke and Shawn were killin' it on the dance floor with their mad breakdance extravaganza. Yes, they have skills.

So as all good parties should have, there was the starting of the fire (camp-, not barn-) and the gathering there-round. And then Garth gets out his spears, sets up a couple pumpkins, and while I never would have predicted it, apparently throwing spears at pumpkins is a crowd-pleasing activity. It went long into the night. And while those pumpkins 30 ft away were fairly safe for most of the time, a couple people did indeed hit them. You'd think it's easy, but spear-tossin' (accurately) is pretty tough. Drinkin' and sittin' by campfire rounded out the evening, and then off to bed.

Sunday... well, Sunday is turning out to be a regular gig... the local boys from the couple of alleycats I've been to have been gathering on Sunday afternoons for bike polo. Fun, that be.

So Matt and I met up for some trail riding beforehand just because, and then looped back to the park where people were starting to gather. The other Matt brought mallets and stuff, the cones came out, and the hijinks ensued. After a couple times trying it, I'm starting to notice some subtleties. I wouldn't go so far as to say strategy or tactics or anything like that, but I can see some normal patterns of play now. When it comes to ball-handling style, there's dribblers, long-bombers, blockers, sharp-shooters, all kinds of strengths. All I know at the moment is that if I have the ball, I'm the dribbling, between the legs, tongue-out-Jordan-style, take-it-to-the-hole type. I can't make a long shot to save my life, but I'll juke a muthafucka all day like some Harlem Globetrotters ('n' shit, yo).

Pete seemed to take the hockey enforcer style, using his charging and coaster-brake cruiser skids and rattling chain guard to intimidate the dudes on the shiny fixies. Gotta say, if you love a bike too much, don't bring it to polo. Silly shit happens. Low speed crashes, multi-bike entanglements, and dudes like me happen too (if I'm rubbing wheels with someone while scrabbling for the ball, my wheel pushing on theirs in the hope of forcing them to put a foot down... is a good strategy).

But in the end, Pete was getting ridiculous with his bullying and no one would take him on. The best thing I could do for my team was to share my elbows with him, and going for the ball on the breakaway was a good excuse. Didn't even get near the ball, just putting him into the grass was what was needed. Sorry Pete, but you bring that cheese, you're gonna get the shoulder every time.

Last night (tues) was the Halloween alleycat, and while it wasn't freezing, I did get a little chilly. G came out and staffed a checkpoint, but realized that there's stretches of boring in that - and didn't bring a book or anything. I raced and had a modest 10th, but I'm gonna blame the fact that one checkpoint wasn't set up or visible when I got to it (I had to go back and do it later). Probably was there, I'm just whining. Had a bad case of the Post Hard Riding Coughing afterwards, but whatever.

Ok. mmph.

All I got right now. Happy Halloween, y'all.

blech.

Crapola. I want to go to the IMBA Trail Care Crew class out in Grand Rapids this weekend, but my plans are foiled, more or less. Call 'em pseudo-foiled.

I was going to head out that way this afternoon/evening to ride some trails, then camp overnight somewhere local, and then show up at the class/presentation in the morning. Mostly, because riding is fun, camping is easy/cheap, and I don't like early morning wakeups. I figured I could be local and just stumble out of my tent to go to the thing. But since it's raining right now and a 70% chance of rain this afternoon/evening in GR, so me no ridey. Looks like I'm just gonna chuck the idea and just get up super-early and drive out there.

The one good thing about it is that in the search for a spot to pitch a tent, I learned that the State Forests in Michigan have a policy similar to Federal USFS/BLM land regarding dispersed camping - it's free, and as long as you abide by the rules, you can just plop down, pitch your tent, and sleep the sleep of the just. Keep in mind... State Forests are ok, not State Parks. Check out the rules here and here.
...
OK, so in the meantime since typing that, I read the rules. Since the Rules specify certain dates in State Game Areas that camping is forbidden, and not knowing where those might be, obviously, I had a bunch of questions (this isn't the first time I've pondered the survey boundaries of federal/state public land). So I called the State of Michigan. I pay my taxes, surely they would help me in my quest for information. Bouncing around trying to find the right answers, 45 minutes later, what I learn is this...

County plat maps.

Sure... the State and Federal agencies and governments have the Master Control over what is and what is not, but they don't publish map books. Somewhere deep in the bowels of the GIS system there is surely a way to display an accurate rendering of the land survey for State Forests. But Joey Taxpayer can't get at them easily. HOWEVER... if you know what county you're looking at, the county maintains records of plat ownership, so those should indicate boundaries, even if they don't hold administrative authority over the land.

So there it is.

One last thing... funny bits you didn't think were necessary (from the Rules document):

  (l) "Person" has the same meaning as defined in section 301 of 1994 PA 451, MCL 324.301

Apparently, not everyone has a clear understanding of what a "person" is.

(and no, I haven't looked up PA451. I'm done with gov'ment fo' the day.)

odds and ends...

Cleaning out the photos from my phone, I come across these little chuckle-worthy bits:
The funniest parts about this poster is where it's located. Above a urinal at eye level. "Touch consumers"? Wow, now that's powerful campaign. It can reach out and grab your junk while you're taking a whizz. And yes, that's a low-distraction moment. Just me and my wang. Even if there is another guy pissing, it's not like we're having an in-depth conversation or anything.

A palette of parts, and apparently the empty palette should be returned to an android. Hopefully no one at Cyberdyne Systems knows about this.
Hmm... so there's D/s, B/D, S/M, BDSM, and an infinite variety of kinks out there. Auto-domination too, apparently.

downtown LED lighting

Looks like the city government is going ahead with 100% LED lighting downtown. Every time I would walk past the pilot program installation and see the "New lighting... Comments? call ___"sign, I've been meaning to comment about the color (they have a bluish cast to them and could stand to get more yellow into their spectrum) and that they should protect a little better against light pollution.

But it looks like I waited too long... one of those "speak now or forever hold your peace" things.

pedal therapy

A new mantra to cure what ails: just go pedal somewhere.

A couple weeks ago after a build up and tension-filled anti-climax of over-thought expectations, I found myself crashing hard, and into a navel-gazing funk. A little voice inside trying to console myself, trying at both ends to pull deeper within and extract from the morass. "Go, get out and do something." "Do what?" "I don't care... Try Something. Try Anything." "I should at least have some sort of plan." "No. Just go pedal somewhere."

And that's the voice that won. And as I rolled along, the lint clot in my head broke free. The bike love took over.

It fixed me.

There's lots of bike love - whether you're a pro or new to it. Sometimes you just have to remember that it's there Available, cheaper than therapy, and no reservation required.

secret identities

Every now and then I have troubles with this whole blogging concept as a dynamic-journal-of-sorts (yes, I know it's self-referential to blog about a blog, but just ignore that for the time being). It's a thing that I've had decision-making problems with before, and that's the boundaries between things public and private.

I think of this sometimes as a personally therapeutic activity. No, gentle reader, I'm not using you as a substitute for proper mental health care, but there is something to be said for exercising the cobwebs, preventing the mental stagnation that comes from a lack of thoughtul contemplation or the running around and around in the same rut. Here I am sounding all high-falutin' when really what I am describing is the conversation that any kid has when they start off their first journal entry with "Dear Diary..." But you see, the diary is ultimately a very a private thing. Something that you trust no one will read - something to which you can entrust your deepest darkest secrets. The blog? not so much - it's on the web and just about anybody can see it. Of course, it's a form of voyeurism too - you WANT people to look at it and read it, or else what's the point? Without another participant, it would just be masturbation.

I started thinking about this a year ago and wrote two paragraphs. I shelved it then, but was talking with a friend recently (who reads this) about exactly this. And it seems we were both independently headed to the same mental place - to have or not to have a secret blog. Our "usual" online identities are bound up or connected in some way or other with our real world identities (slightly obscured though they may be). When you really want to cut loose and talk about what's really going on in your head, maybe you don't want anyone you actually know to know what you're really agonizing over. But then if it's so secret no one knows about it, what's the use? Maybe the anonymous voyeurism that someone, somewhere might just read it. Like having sex in a public place or Larry Craig-like airport bathroom hookups, perhaps the danger of getting caught is part of the thrill.

Moving in... spreading out closer to the edges of myself... buying vacation property there instead of just visiting every now and then.

Debate Questions for GOP (link)

The Fine Art of Buying Nothing (and doing)

Been inadvertently perfecting my buy-nothingness lately. The other day I made the triple-threat mistake of going to: a hobby store, a Lowes, and a GFS outlet. All this on a day when I was already goofy, scattered, and unaware of what I wanted in the world.

The usual way that I make for myself in the world is to avoid deadlock. In those conversations not deciding and agonizing over where to go, what to do, I'm the guy who eventually blurts out "this is fucking stupid... we're going to ___, and if you really don't want to go, we'll meet up after." And if that pisses everyone else off and I walk off and no one comes with, that's my own burden. Resolving the impassible quandary gave me more mental satisfaction than getting everyone to go along with me. I just can't stand that metastable, activated but going-nowhere, state. But when it comes to myself when I'm by myself, it seems I can agonize over this for a seeming eternity.

So now I'm on a smaller cashflow, highly caffeinated, and going to a hobby shop (where there's thousands of fascinating widgets and projects I know I don't have time or follow-through for), and a hardware mega-plex (where there's hundreds of solutions for problems I didn't know I had), and a GFS (food-service sized portions and implements I don't need... I cook for myself). It was a fairly bizarre experience that left me unable to make the simplest decisions. Why? I normally would just go ahead and buy the thing that I was agonizing over - if it was ultimately a wasted $50, so what? Nowadays, not so much. And I could just throw it in the car and move on to the next thing. But that day was sunny and 70, and I was on the bike. So you'd think my available options would have helped me, but they didn't.

And then I went to the UMich Property Disposition Center the other day. Need a centrifuge? Robotic genetic analysis dispenser machine? Sun Sparc enterprise server? Shelves? Desks? Alas, I know my tendency is to buy because Look! At! All! These! Great! Deals! (on used crap). But here I am, in a brave new world. Perfecting the Art of Buying Nothing.

One of the many reasons I think of to buy a house. Stuff Projects. Widgets. And it would only make it worse, wouldn't it?

But this general situation is what I worry my problem is these days. I find it far too easy to decide for other people what is right and what to do. For myself, I see far too many possibilities - I can't decide. There's nothing too far from reasonably doable, either through force of will or creative solutions. So what do I do? Of late, I've been doing nothing.

Am I natural? I'm abhorring the vacuum, that's for sure.

just trying to have a snack, fer chrissakes...

Rough day at the office...

(the first few minutes are boring, but it gets wayyyy better halfway through)

prepickle? postpickle?

A question I ask the wind... are you a prepickle eater or postpickle eater?

When you get your sandwich and it comes with a pickle - whole, half, spear, whatever - do you eat the pickle first or last? Is it a warmup or a cooldown? Apertif or digestif? And what does that say about the person? I realize that there are many cases where the pickle is a component of the dish (burger with pickle slices, chicken shwarma, etc.) or irrelevant (conscientious pickle objectors) but those aren't the point of the question.

I, for the record, prepickle. The way I see it, it's a self-contained food item that has few thematic connections to the rest of what's on the plate, and while they are tasty, they also take up space. No reason not to just go ahead and have it right then and there, and as a benefit, clear space on the plate/basket for mid-meal food maneuvering.

Does this mean anything? Is it one of those anal retentive (controlling, OCD, etc.) or anal expulsive (emotional, prone to outburst) things? Is it poor impulse control on my part?

Or am I just a little too prone to over-analysis? Perhaps sometimes a pickle... is just a pickle.

Dapples (overdue Manistee mumblings)

The weekend before last, in honor of the last decent expected weather in Michigan, a trip just came together on a lark.

It was impromptu, happenstance, and serendipitousish, and thus begins my flawed and biased re-telling...

As y'all might know, the public lands administered by the US Forest Service and Bureau of Land Management are, unless specifically prohibited otherwise, open to the public for recreation (meaning hiking, camping, hunting, parcheesi, whatever). Assuming you aren't governed by something else (hunting season/permits, motorized vehicle restrictions, etc.) you can pretty much do your thing. And in the Manistee N.F. you've got a stretch of the North Country Scenic Trail, which is on its way from New York to North Dakota (a glimpse of the map below and full map of the National Trail System here). And the NCST, which you can read up on here, also intersects the Big M trail system. Lessee here... a pinch of trail, a dash of forest... hmm.

So G brought the minivan over, we packed in some bikes, some gear, some food and drink, I refrained from making any Soccer Mom wisecracks, and off we went up to Manistee.

4 hours later we're within the bounds of the forest. While it was a little confusing figuring out what all the obviously private dwellings were doing in the middle of what we expected to be just miles and miles of pseudo-wilderness (remember that "Wilderness" has specific federal definitions... which MNF isn't), we nevertheless managed to blunder about.

We got to the established USFS campgrounds, and instead of paying the ridiculous fee ($12 for a campsite where there was no water, no showers, no nada... just a flat piece of ground) we elected to just plop ourselves out in the forest somewhere. Down this chunky 2-track, down that chunky 2-track. Hoping that we're on public land and not inadvertently stumbling onto private land or a meth lab so that we don't get shot.

We find a spot, set up tent-age, get the bikes out and go for a quickie ride. Nice to roll out of home base and in a 5-10 minute ride be on a trail that goes for 1000 miles in either direction. NICE trail I tell ya. Wooded singletrack moseying through stands of pines and oaks and maples. Occasional boardwalk or bridge crossing creek and marsh. We go south a ways and notice that the map board at a road intersection indicates part of the NCST off-limits to bikes. Puzzling, but not a worry since it was time to turn around, and there was more trail to the north of our campsite. Back to camp in delicious pre-fall weather, make some dinner (Saag Paneer) and a beer, or was it wine start a little campfire, sit around a bit before turning in for the night.

A nice morning to wake up to and an easy breakfast of instant oatmeal and instant coffee. I have to confess - I am an unapologetic coffee snob. I'll tell you how much I hate when a bean blend is cheaping it out with Brazilian filler beans. I'll bitch about strength. But when it comes to carrying gear and cooking on the trail... nothing beats coffee crystals for that perfect combo of light, easy, adjustable strength, quick, and no cleanup or garbage. Leave the coffee pot at home, folks. Just carry instant.

Right, so the next day we have some breakfast and lazily make our way into bike gear, pack lunch and stuff, and head north seeing lots of pretty forest (some of it heavily wind-damaged, but happily cleared trail) and on the road connecting off-road trail, this yard art/eco-mower. We get to the Big M Outer Loop intersection and head around the outside of the Outer Loop, which has a couple climb sections of note and interesting bridge building technique. I've never seen bridges on primarily MTB trails that had handrails. Constructed with downed trees and a chainsaw. Three of 'em. It was weird.

So at the top of one of the longer climbs, the stomachs growling decreed that lunch was to be had, so we pulled over, munched a lunch, and lazed about in the forest watching the dappled leaves, listening to the breeze in the trees, napping a bit. er... I mean "resting my eyes"

Rolling along after lunch, it became time to head back, and so we did. Back to the campsite in just enough time to mosey over to the river and rinse our selves off ("The Little Manistee River... where the water flows clear and chilly, and the scrotal shrinkage is instantaneous."), gather water, and get to cooking. Fried tempeh with zucchini and Kung Pao/Szechuan noodles, some wine, and a campfire. Nice, that. Bummer though - the rain, she did come. Luckily, the warning sprinkles gave us time to get things stored away before it got raining for serious. But there was lots of firewood left over, and plenty of wine and beer, and that was unfortunate that they couldn't both get used that night.

But the next day was the journey back, and along the way came the Beer Gauntlet. On the way back from the Northwestern Lower (Peninsula of Michigan, for you out-of-staters) to Ann Arbor, the highway is littered with breweries. It's like a truck was driving along and they just fell out the back. Founder's in Grand Rapids, Bell's in Kalamazoo, Arcadia in Battle Creek, Dark Horse in Marshall.

Gotta say, the start and end points were... tasty. Founder's, y'all rock. I have much beer love for you. And you sponsor bike racin'. And have cool live music. Have I mentioned I like your beer lots? Kentucky Breakfast Stout, while very limited in availability, is delicious. Round and full, swells nicely on the tongue and rolls strong, comes off it slowly and gently. Well done. If you get a chance, give it a try. And the regular Breakfast Stout. And the Red's Rye. And Black Rye. And the Dirty Bastard Scotch Ale.

I limited myself in time and liver capacity to one, and we moved on to Bell's. While it's a fascinating tap room (with art and maps and historical documents), the beer was... mediocre. Bell's continues to non-impress me. Yes, they are the 800 lb gorilla in Michigan Beer. But the hoopla about Oberon is overrated, especially since every time I had it this year it has been terrible. Two-Hearted Ale, sure, but that's about all I can stand to buy. Everything else is ridiculously priced, and not really good enough to justify the price. I had the sampler, had a hard time picking because there was nothing on tap that hadn't been around on store shelves already over the past 5 years.

On to Arcadia. Beautiful bar/restaurant in the celtic style, but again... nothing new. The beers have remained the same as they have been for 10 years. While they've had small-run interesting but not very available batches like Coco Loco, Hopmouth, and Cereal Killer, the rest of the beers have stayed middling.

Dark Horse Brewing wins the Upstart Award. It's a tiny, tiny place in Marshall, MI (also a tiny place). What they lack in refinement of label art they make up for in enthusiasm. Favorites of mine: Crooked Tree IPA, the Black Beer, the Amber Ale, and the joint venture with Corner Brewery: Dark Corner. Tasty stuff, it is.

And Dark Horse likes bike racin' too. Oh yeah, and the sister brewery of Corner Brewery, Arbor Brewing Co. also sponsors bike racin'. I'm seeing a trend here.

Ok, blah. I've blathered too long. Forest, Bikes, Beer: mmm, Good.

woof.

spoiler votes

So now that Michigan is no longer going to have a meaningful Democratic primary election, the question is: what do Democrats do with their free time?

If the Republicans have a primary in Michigan, those Democrats could potentially switch over just for the primary (mind you, I have no idea if this is even possible... I've never registered with a party or voted in a primary) and to raise havoc in the Republican primary. But the question becomes... how best to muck the Republican primary - try to get a friendly candidate elected, or add votes to the crazy nutso? If a moderate Republican wins the primary and then the presidential election, then it won't be as unfriendly of a President to Dems. On the other hand, getting an extremist wacko onto the presidential ballot in order to influence undecideds and moderate conservatives to vote Democratic because that candidate is not as bad as the other one might be useful.

Of course, all this matters not a bit if the Republicans cancel a Michigan primary specifically to avoid these hijinks.

chuckle-snarky

Gah. Been bad. Ain't been posting. But couldn't resist passing along the snarkiest corporate slogan/motto/tagline I've seen in a while:

BOB Trailers - "the leader in following"

not a bad day...

Regardless of the late start I got on the day, I gotta say that it shaped up pretty well.

Started with the emails back and forth that look like will get me a good recommendation on a job with a company I've been thinking about for a while. Good, that.

And then the bikey shtuff... first of all, a big Thank You Hug to the collective staff of the Infrastructure Planning and Street Maintence (and whoever else) at the City of Ann Arbor for the updates to Packard Rd. Been a pain in the ass in many ways, the construction project to bolster infrastructure (water, etc.) for the SE corner of the city resulted in new pavement that includes (ta daa!) bike lanes. They went from 2 lanes each way to 1 each way with a shared turn lane, and Full Sized Bike Lanes. Which kicks ass. Happy taxpayer, I am. And really has very little effect on traffic flow, given the feeder streets to that section of Packard and usage patterns. I realize that this is only 1 mile or so of changes, but it's a step in the right direction. Oh yeah, and it's right outside MY house. Now if only Morgan and York would fix the damn neon sign. It's incredibly tacky to be in such disrepair, and it's not like they don't bank large amount of cash from their froofy booze-n-cheese business. Pony up for the maintenance bucks, guys. The asphalt road is showing you up, and it just lays there.

For those interested in urban planning and transportation alternatives, check out the Ann Arbor Non-Motorized Transportation Master Plan. It's a long slog through a long document, but brings up all kinds of interesting planning, safety, and usage pattern factoids.

Other bikey news. It was absolutely perfect weather. 60 miles run through Waterloo, no bonking. Nice.

Bikey chit chat: rolling through Waterloo I ran into up Brian (Sociology grad and part-time wrench slinger for Two Wheel Tango) and we rode back eastward together. Plenty of chance to chat, and while we were talking for most of the way, my sore shoulders and post-ride cough gave me the distinct impression that he would spank me big time in a higher-stakes ride. Talked about this and that... lamented the fact that the Bloomer Park Velodrome is so far away, but so so fun. Now where in Washtenaw county could we put one? I mean, there's gotta be at least a couple hundred people that would be interested, what with the thousands of bike folks on the Ypsi/AA/Saline/Dexter/Chelsea axis. I'd love to make a comment about how Brian, as a part-timer, does more for the cred of the shop than Dennis (owner) does with his Mr.-Grumpy-doesn't-seem-to-want-you-as-a-customer attitude, but I'm not negative like that. or am I?

So then it was a christening of my new pressure cooker with with some cow peas, bacon, garlic, and kale, and a smidge o' red red wine for the glass. Gotta tell you, I do make a damn good bean dish, if I may say so m'self. The one thing I just love about kale, other than it's apparent surface hydrophobia, is that it takes abuse like no other leafy green I know. You can cook the snot out of it (i.e., toss it in and forget about it for a while) and it just takes the punishment and comes out tasty and nicely textured. It must have a little bit of masochist in it.

So I'm gonna head out and see Eastern Promises tonight just to try to cap it off with a flourish. Viggo makes a good movie, David Cronenberg (History of Violence, Crash, eXistenZ, The Fly) does really good stuff, and Naomi Watts? Well even if she hadn't pulled me in and ripped me a new one in 21 Grams, she is so... meow. Mmm, pretty. Throw in some Russian Mob intrigue and some prison ink, and I'm ready to be entertained.

will you shut the fuck up? (seriously)

As a shout out to everyone who was near/with/around me at the Medeski, Martin, and Wood show at the Detroit Jazz Fest, and who might have had the pleasure of observing the balding tubbo greaser turn around and complain vehemently that I was disturbing him with my talking at a free, outdoor, attended by thousands Jazz Fest... I offer the following counter example:

When you are in a library studying, set your phone to silent/vibrate. If someone calls you when you're in the library, and you simply *must* answer it, please try to keep your voice down. And when that conversation appears to be going to continue for more than a minute, go out to the lobby, or outside, or how about... GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME.

I mean seriously, folks. I understand the ubiquity of telecommunication devices. I take pleasure in a couple of them myself. I realize that the world changes and we must change with it. I realize that as information is more and more available electronically from your computer at home, the nature of the library is also changing. I realize that the engineering library is used by students as a meeting place to work on projects together, and there's a certain amount of conversation that goes with that.

But I have to draw the line somewhere. Noise and interruption has permeated so much of our daily lives that we tolerate it far too much.If there were one public (secular) place left in the world where you can go and pore over books in peace and quiet, where is that? The library. Deep in the shelves, far away from the high traffic areas.

But today, across the table, this guy first of all has to call his buddy about this great story BBC-Online has (but apparently can't email to him). And then a few minutes later takes a call and proceeds to go on for over 10 minutes about this or that dance/social event organization. I didn't feel I was in a position to bitch him out there in public because I'm not a tuition-paying student, but now that my ire is up, I remember that I'm a taxpayer, and a guest of the University to boot. And next time I think I'm going to share my feelings with those that are telephonically manners-challenged. And fuck 'em if they don't like what I have to say about their annoyances.

the Tofu Offset

Overheard on the radio today, and in digi-print here... it's the Tofu Offset. A very 21st-century revitalization of 16th-century Roman Catholic indulgences.

The notion of carbon offsets and cap-and-trade ideas have always bothered me on a fuzzy and nebulous (yet fundamental) level, but it wasn't until the sarcasm and humor of the Tofu Offset came along that it was made clear. That what really bothered me was people believing they could de-guilt themselves financially.

I have to give credit to the people who invented these carbon trading companies - sounds like a pretty good way to make money off people's personal guilt... about their inability to actually make change in their life, about their desire to fit in with other people (regardless of the inanity), about their laziness in taking an easy way out. If you actually believe something is worthwhile, then how about actually DOing it?

Of course, this gets me in trouble all the time when I shoot my mouth off.... so there's that problem for me to work through.

There's an analogy in here somewhere about truthiness and that if something is said enough times and with enough conviction that somehow it changes the facts. But the end result is that you can't offset emissions in the physical world with cash in the abstract financial world anymore than you can offset your pudgy waistline with a Cheeseburger Offset.

got mead?

El Batcho Numero Uno. Batch the First. Zee Ertsten Batchenheit. Gruppo Uno di Mead-olio.

The quickie bottlings I did the other weekend of Batches #2 and #3 (test batches, mind you) I hereby declare didn't count. These, they're gonna sit for a while, relax, condition, etc. etc. I definitely noticed a difference between the taste of the initial bottlings (test bottlings, we'll say) a month ago, and what resulted after it sitting around was much improved. So I'm gonna do more of that.

And as I racked batches 4 and 7 tonight, I tasted the same kinds of things - it's very "young". Raw. Surely lots of yeasties floating around in it.

The good news? Well, I think I'd have a different opinion of #1 if I hadn't brought some to the Pesto Party. Turns out Jeff's friend (and Cheryl's co-worker?) Colleen is an experienced amateur meader, and I couldn't stop picking at her brain all afternoon - we talked shop, likely to the extreme annoyance of bystanders. While I don't ever think we got to the bottom of that question about legislative action vs. judicial precedence, we did find out that we have tons of beer, outdoor-sey, and opinionated things in common, so chances are better than average that we'll run into each other at a local pub and get to revisit the question. Of course, if there's beer involved, I really wonder whether we'll get anywhere on the topic then, either. What with all the yak-yak-yak that I seem to indulge in, not to mention Georgina's enabling enthusiasm for conversational dynamics.

While I think that Colleen's and my tastes are wildly divergent (I like the sweeter and she likes the dryer ones), she had encouraging things to say about #1. If her sincerity was affected because of my "well, here's the first batch... I think it might suck buuuut...." or if she truly liked it, the effect is the same when positive comments come from people with more experience than I have. I feel ok about my first efforts, and since it's fun fussing with the whole thing, I'm not planning stopping any time soon.

Oh yeah, and I end up with a bunch o' hooch at the end... there's that going for me.

So... the bad news. Batches #5 and #6 just don't seem to be doing anything anymore. I thought they might be done with primary fermenting, but when I stuck my nose in the carboy, they still smelled really sweet, and there was only the tiniest amount of lees in the bottom. These, of course would be the batches that I screwed up the proportions on - they had an original gravity off the scale, meaning > 1.200, which = "way too much". I'm actually wondering if the yeasties didn't just... give up (imagine the chorus of 100 million little yeast bacteria bemoaning "geez, there's just way too much sugar to work on in here, I quit.") Regardless, it'll give it another try tomorrow - another yeast starter going, I'll dilute the batches in half, pitch some more yeast in, and see if it can't get going again.

integration vs. innovation

What does how we think say about each of us? Not what we think, but how we think.

I walk and talk. I ride a bike. I shower. I sit. I eat. I sleep. I drive. And I hear about/from other people - about when they had this inspiration or that revelation. For some, figuring things out comes from talking through them - not necessarily (but maybe sometimes) because of dialog with another, but just by speaking the words and engaging the verbal brain, the process works something in the clickety-clack and out pops this new thing. For others, it's standing in the shower and the hot water and noise pouring over them smooths over the distractions to find the nugget of Nouveau. Sometimes riding a bike or running works the ideas through to previously undiscovered vistas.

This started out being about riding the bike - on a long ride my brain is more likely to integrate quietly in the background, and conspicuously, not spontaneously innovate. That the long stretches jostle everything around and new information settles in the cracks making itself comfortable, producing a compact solidity that makes room for new things to come in afterward, but keeps new synthesis from poking through to the top. I love the metaphor, but the consequence is not exactly something I'm that keen on. It's been far too easy over the years to adapt to my circumstances, and sometimes I wonder exactly who I am anymore. That I'm too much of an integrator.

At the same time I'm still prickly and argumentative for the sake of argument - to a fault at times. Maybe that's just my inner teenager rebelling for the sake of rebellion and to make its mark on the world. Opposing anything and rejecting everything, good and bad regardless.

But when it comes to the new, everyone has their own style. For me requires a substantial amount of monotony. Digging ditches. Putting Tab A into Slot B and pasting to Sheet C, over and over. I guess my brain has to have the opportunity to wander a bit and clear out the everyday business before getting to somewhere new. I often find that point... somewhere 10-20 miles east of Benton Harbor. On the way to Chicago, it's that point where I've had about 2 - 2.5 hours in the car, a cup of coffee or two, there's not much traffic or distraction, I'm settled enough into driving that I don't feel tired anymore or uncomfortable yet. Of course, I don't go that way that often, but it's predictable enough that the brain be warming up right then.

If only I could turn make it on-demand inspiration...

Bacon-palooza

I've had this idea rolling around in my head for some time, and I know there's support for it in some circles (and opposition in some), but how to make it work... just haven't got that figured yet.

So Bacon-palooza would be an adjunct to an existing party. A side stage. A party auxilliary. Half of a party. Not enough of an excuse for a party itself, but a significant contributor thereto. Basically, a festival of bacon. There's garlic festivals, no? Well what about that most delicious of crispy meat bits? Lots of people (non-vegs, of course) like bacon, and how often to you have an opportunity to celebrate the types of dishes that can "feature" bacon? There's gotta be a recipe for bacon pudding out there somewhere. And bacon chips and salsa. Or how about chips and bacon salsa?

We're not talking about just a salad with hot bacon dressing or a bacon pizza, those are vegetable and bread dishes, with bacon on them. I'm looking for creativity here. Yes, cholesterol counts will skyrocket in the days and weeks after. But unless you've got one foot in the grave already, you'll be fine. And if you've got one foot in the grave already, shouldn't you be out getting some exercise and eating sensibly instead of reading stupid blargs on teh interwebs?


Why? Because everything tastes better with bacon... including bacon.

Halloween is coming up, and plenty of football-season party excuses... thoughts anyone?

(and as far as Maggie is concerned... she's been giving me the silent treatment for months now. If she's going to insult me, I'm not very likely to care about her feelings, now am I?)

back among... the Clean People

Back in town amongst all you freshly washed, shaven, and brushed people (saponophobes, The Bearded, and bald(ing) people excepted)... I am returned.

Rivers, somewhat less choked today than it was a week ago by the evil and invasive Russian Olive: qty 1.











Desert landscape, adored and absorbed: a whole bunch.

Water consumed personally over said week and passed through body one way or another: 10-12 gal.










Miles driven cross-country back and forth: 3600 (...mas o menos)

Bugs squashed on front of car along the way: 1.2 gagjillion

*poof*

Gone, I am.

On walkabout.

This boy has a date with a river. See y'all in a week or two.

more oddness...

Last night's dream included... Hillary Clinton campaigning door-to-door for the upcoming presidential election. I was at the home of my childhood, mowing the lawn (though I apparently owned the house now, and my parents had moved on), and Hilary Clinton just walks right up, nonchalant, with no entourage and no paparazzi. Just a quiet day in the suburbs where she's getting the word out that she's running for office and would like me to vote for her.

Wacky.

Isn't that odd...

In the Land of the Boring and the Waiting (for other people's things to happen) comes the ponderable: Hearing. We learned early on as kids how people (at least with more or less normal hearing) determine where a sound is coming from... that one's brain, through a high-resolution internal timer can tell that the sound arrived at one ear before it arrived at the other, and thus determine whether it is to the left or right of the direction the head is pointed. It's not too much of a stretch to also say that distance can be inferred by the difference in strength of the sound. i.e. If the sound is far away, the difference in distance between your ears is small, so they should hear it the same. But if it's close, the distance between your ears is more significant and the softening of the sound over that distance is noticeable.

But what about front to back and up and down? In this model, ears are point receivers and there's only two of them. There's a plane of symmetry, and since we can't rotate the fleshy flap of our outer ear (like a deer) a sound in front should sound roughly the same as the sound in back. So how do we know? Surely you can tell when a sound is in front or back, right? So how do we do it? Any audiologists out there want to shed some light on the matter?


And then there was this... Windows apparently eating itself.


Ah, the circle of life.

Consolidation (or: how I learned to pack up glassware and love the paper shredder)

Having become tired of my chronic low-grade packrat-itis, I finally made good (or, at least better) on my intention from years ago. My intention to use the Automatic Document Feeder on the scanner I got and scan in all that paper that I've been hanging on to for so long, but thought would have some use (i.e. in the event of a banking collapse, IRS audit, survey of electricity prices from place to place, etc. etc.) Think of it as the Paperwork Reduction Act of 2007.

Yes, they were silly reasons to not throw out all that crap, but at least now I have a clear conscience about it. Digitizing years of stuff, and then shredding like a madman. I'm not sorting or anything, just jam it all in there and burn to DVD. Think of it as a digital shoebox. Along the way I must have tripped the thermal overload on the shredder a dozen times while shredding so much that it filled up 6 packed paper grocery bags with crosscut shredded paper. But now it's mostly gone, and when new stuff comes in, it can go straight to the digital shredfest.

But as I made the keep/scan/shred decisions for a lot of things, it was like a walk down memory lane. And along the way, what did I find? The time, she's a-movin'. The letter to the Chicago Police from after my car was broken into ... that was 2001? And I lived here at this address? I haven't lived here in *this* apartment 6 years, have I? Sheesh. And exactly what was I saving all those blank checkbook deposit slips for? Maybe 'til I had a shredder to shred them with. Those long trips to Ireland, my lost passport, my transcript from the Uni... they seemed only yesterday, but it was a long, long, time ago (relatively).

It ain't exactly over - the tough spots that I've been avoiding are still looming: Car crap and medical/health insurance. Stuff that is all sorts of shapes, so a pain to scan, but don't want to throw it all out at once because there might be some weird billing or history thing that could crop up. Besides, having the dossier on my self or car would be useful later on, methinks. Right? (or is that just the kind of thinking that gets me file drawers full of crap?)

The other benefit from the "clean bench" policy? I'm finally doing something about the dustables. That bunch of stuff that I thought would be appropriate to rescue from Grandma's house after she died, but that has only sat on a shelf collecting dust, annoying me with it's dust collection ability. Sure, I need to remember where "my people" are from and the ornaments of culture, but it doesn't mean that I need to keep boiled egg cups and uselessly small wine glasses to be able to do it.

What was I waiting for all that time? And the other waiting? What's with that? ahh... but that's probably better suited to another time and place.