Big Boom Bond

Went out to Bastone and The Magic Bag last night with Matt for eat, drink, and Casino Royale. (a bite, a beer, and a Bond). Was hoping to meet the Mysterious Megan, but was late to Matt's and missed her by about 5 minutes.

Bastone was tasty - I got their sampler to start with, and settled on the Dubbel afterwards - Dubbel was sweeter than other Dubbels, thicker on the tongue, and very dark. Belgian purists might take issue with it's Dubbel-ness, but it was tasty regardless. Their Pilsner was nice because it had some hoppiness to it (remarkable that I liked it, I generally HATE pilsners). The Wit was fairly standard - decent, but unremarkable (where's that killer Wit that I'm constantly searching for?), the Brown was drinkable but boring, and the IPA tasted like so many IPAs that are on the market now. Heavy hop, dry, tangy, blah blah blah. You know the drill. Food was pretty good, but in my hunger I gorged myself by having the truffled mac-n-cheese "entree" as an appetizer (on what fucking planet is mac-n-cheese legitimately an entree?), and then the pork mediallions. The actual cut of pork was ridiculous. Thin, tasteless, pasty colored with thin beige pseudo-gravy. The only thin that saved it was everything else on the plate - this au gratin potato lasagna thing, the apple/nut stuff over the pork, and the pea pod/leafy greens on the side.

(hey Bastone! why the hell don't you have a website that's easy to find? And since you apparently own Grizzly Peak too, what's the deal with there not being a GP site either? Is it some sort of protest thing?)

Heading over to Magic Bag for their Brew-n-View night - was only $2.00 to get in, so that's a good movie deal, but the $6 for the 11 oz. bottle of Guiness was ridiculous. Did I tip the bartenders? You bet your ass I didn't. $6 bottle? Kiss my ass. I'll buy your rip-off because I want it, but don't think I care what you think about me personally because I didn't tip you. Next time I'm bringing my own drink in with me.

Reflections on The New Bond:
- Definitely a change from previous Bonds, and the discontinuity in the storyline from previous 007 movies apparently even has a name... they call it a reboot.
- I miss the more refined intellectual and suave Bonds of Connery, Brosnan, and Dalton. Craig is more of a brute - the shaved bulging pecs and knobby nose, jumping from one construction crane to the next, I was half-expecting John Woo to have directed it.
- The gunbarrel sequence at the opening was a bummer. Usually there's more sex and less violence. I guess it goes with the new BoomLand Bond. Blow things up instead of seducing them.
- The 20 minute Texas-holdem sequence I could have done without. What happened to Baccarat? We've all seen the "I can see his tell now, he's bluffing, I'm all-in" stare-down on TV. Don't need to see it in a movie, and it was a waste of screen time. Easy to write dialog for though...
- Some good sexual one-liners along the way that I'm sure will work their way into day-to-day life, including: "Don't worry, you're not my type." "What type is that?" "Single."
- It was disappointing that they really neglected the "ooh, James..." breathy declaration by the love-interest (as they fade off the screen into some sexual escapade) that is so iconic of Bond flicks. The interaction/role of the women in this one is definitely a shift as well. At least they didn't show any female nipple - as fond of on-screen fem-nipple as I am, it wouldn't have been out of character for a Bond movie.

And lastly, not exactly movie-related, but... as Bond is seducing/rolling around on the floor with the mega-millionaire evil villain's wife in order to get info out of her, it occurs to me: No matter how rich and exotic someone is, the sex they have doesn't scale with the "size" of their life. Bill Gates doesn't have $10 billion sex, and neither does Paris Hilton or Nicolas Cage or the late Anna Nicole Smith. They might squeak out 4-5 orgasms a night, but they're orgasms just like the ones you and I have. Grim-faced silence, soft fluffy clouds, or sweaty thrashing screamers, the accessibility of the spectrum of orgasmic capacity is, in our celebrity-worshipping society, a fairly humanizing and leveling notion.

your local adult literacy program

... something that I got involved in recently that I'm going to shamelessly put in a plug for: Adult Literacy. When you shop around for community organizations that in need of volunteers to make a difference in other people's lives, what you discover is that adult literacy programs are almost always in need of people to help out. In a county where 27,000 residents have low literacy skills, there's a lot of folks that might have trouble reading this. So if you're so inclined, think about helping someone out - imagine what it would be like without basic literacy (reading signs, filling out job applications, etc.). Even if you're not into tutoring, there's fundraising, advocacy, etc. etc.

If you're in Washtenaw County, there's Washtenaw Literacy, where they have both basic literacy and ESL programs. If you're somewhere else, call your local library - I'm sure they'll know how to get in touch with a program in your area that needs volunteers.

doom and gloom reminder

I was reminded of a friend's birthday today (reminded by someone else remembering it and me having forgotten it) when I wondered "why don't I have birthday reminders in my Treo? That would actually make sense, seeing as how it's a calendaring device..." So I set about figuring this out, and for some reason I have birthdays attached to he addresses of people, instead of attached to days. Weird, yes, but that's because as I migrate data around, I consider data about people sacred and data about days gone past expendable (if I'm going to save something, it's more likely to be addresses than calendars)

So the revelation in all of this is that I'm putting birthdays in the calendar as well, I set an alarm for two weeks before (to remember to get a gift/card), and then check the "repeat" box.

Repeat how often? Why... yearly, of course. Repeat until?

"no end date" doesn't seem right - no one is immortal. But if I pick a date, that suggests a time after which it won't matter - either the end of their life, my life, or my caring about their birthday. I realize that my Treo doesn't have The Power of Life and Death, but it was kind of a weird moment. How long does this matter? And if I choose No End Date, does that subconsciously affect how I perceive our friendship?

I used to say that I overthink things. But since I heard it said of me last night, I'm much more prefering "He's got quite the busy mind, eh??" [you have to say that while rolling your eyes (crazy-eyes) a little]

The Tin Man

If you're into the podcasts or other forms of interesting sounding radio/audio, you might want to check out The Tin Man story. (Heck, even if you're not into radio, you might find it fun. For other interesting stuff, be sure to check out lots of other stuff from our friends at the Third Coast International Audio Festival) Sure, the Tin Man story is a little heavy-handed with it's anti-corporation-we're-all-slaves-to-The-Man message, but along the way, the use/abuse of the Oz metaphor is hilarious, the voices are great, and the audio is entertaining. Think... StrongBad/HomeStarrRunner meets Wizard of Oz, meets Conspiracy Theorists, LLC.

rumors of ordinances

I heard a while back that Flint, MI tightened up their truancy laws in the city - that kids picked up by the police who were supposed to be in school (and presumably are making trouble) would have to be picked up by their parents within 3 hours of the parents being notified, and that not picking them up would be a misdemeanor/ticket/fine for the parents.

I don't presume to know how to deal with juvenile crime or issues of family law or custody or parenting or any of that whole thing, but I can't help think that this generally a good thing for the community.

It might be inconvenient to be pulled out of work, it might be a financial burden to have to pay a ticket, and it might be embarrassing. But the bigger question is: why is your child not in school? If they live in your home, should be in school, but are out getting arrested instead, you should be held accountable for their misbehavior. (runaways are a different issue, but that's not what I'm talking about here)

Mind your children, or don't have them.

tonguing the popcorn

A confession - I find huge pleasure tonguing dry popcorn. Say it loud, say it proud...

I tongue the popcorn.

When it's so fresh and dry that it squeaks, all you need to do is touch your tongue to it and leaps out of your hand. Like a frog grabbing a fly. Like Lucien's fondness for endives in Amelie, entertainment/joy had in the simplest of things.

thought from "A Closer Walk"

A while back, I caught a screening of a film called A Closer Walk (ACW). I was part of a year-long event called "Ann Arbor/Ypsi Reads" where a topic is chosen, and throughout the year, various events are planned around that book/theme. This movie goes around the world, showing how HIV/AIDS is affecting the world on different levels - the lives and various struggles and accomplishments of those living with the disease, the families/communities/orphans left behind by those that succumb, and those that are working to effect change.

So with that introduction, I bring you the reactions/responses I had during the movie. (Yes, I take notes sometimes while watching movies) To wit...

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Sorrow/sympathy for the children affected by the disease?

I don't particularly care about the children.

I DO feel sorrow/sympathy for anyone that suffers so. Their age is irrelevant.

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I despise people who use children as weapons and resent that one might think it an effective rhetorical tool.

Not talking about child soldiers here, or even loading up a catapult and using them as projectiles. Talking about the ubiquitous "it's for the children" pulling on the heart strings, as if that gives free reign to say/do whatever outrageous thing you want as long as it's "for the children". (increasing the nuclear stockpile to protect our children's freedom, for example)

On the TV news, you can hear it in the description of the escaped fugitive being brought in, and how he is cooperating with authorities now that he got caught again because "he just wants to see his children before going back to jail". Well, if his children are so important to him, maybe he should have avoided jail in the first place... and even if he was wrongfully convicted and is a victim of the system, maybe he should have thought of his children before his escape attempt guaranteed his ineligibility for early release.

In ACW we meet a woman living with HIV/AIDS, her husband having died a year ago, and along the way you hear about crushing poverty and famine on top of the disease, and how her story is especially tragic because she'll leave her 4 children orphaned. She has this symptom... she has that symptom... she has 4 children. Maybe along the way, in a perpetually drought/famine-ridden area, when you have 3 children, a 4th might be a BAD IDEA. Or when you have 2, a 3rd might be a bad idea. And for stupid honkies in rich countries... when you have 5 children, having a 6th or 7th is a bad idea too. Don't complain about being strapped for cash constantly when you had all the fun breeding but couldn't be bothered to use a condom.

Why do people just ignore this and fail to connect this notion of over-population with strain on resources to feed that population? There are 6 billion people in the world. If you can't feed your kids, STOP HAVING MORE OF THEM. Yes, this will interfere with your god-given right to breed like bunnies, but if you exercise that god-given right recklessly, then you are assured of the god-given privilege of watching them starve and die if a drought comes.

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I get choked up/teared up by the tragedy of suffering of so many who are often powerless to protect themselves. But what have I done about it? Did I just go to a movie, have a weepy moment, and that's it? What's the point if that's all...

What's the point of all the little red ribbons that are such fashionable accessories? "Oh, I think I'll put on my Compassion Accessory to go out to the club tonight..."

Awareness is a start. Knowledge is the next step. Talk follows. But it's Action that's the place where it becomes real instead of just a warm feeling. I'm not an HIV/AIDS activist and don't plan to become one just because I saw a movie, but I think the progression applies to anything that you think you care about.

What-you-do carries more weight than what-you-think.

inability to disengage

Friendships, complexity, and conversational moments out of their original context, along with my critical nature, tendency to over-analyze, and penchant for rage-filled fantasy have conspired to lock me in an uncontrolled self-sustaining slide down the mental highway of my Monday night.

Yes, I talk in metaphor. Yes, it's code. No, it's not for you necessarily to understand. Yes, I just need to get this out of my head somehow. Yes, I've tried other things that haven't worked. No, it's not about you. (well, not likely to be about you. And no, I won't confirm or deny whether it actually is you or not.)

I can't get my head disengaged from this irrational anger and rage-filled fantasy. I'm trying to find a solution to what would normally be "just" a disagreement, or a difference of opinion, or an incompatability of personalities. If I didn't have years invested in what I THOUGHT was an actual friendship, I'd find it much easier to just chalk it up to another waste of a human being and cut my losses and walk away (potentially after some sort of public spectacle or angry outburst involving the throwing of glassware, slamming of tables, or destruction of furniture).

The problem is that a simple straightforward conflict is a losing proposition here. Passive-aggressive manipulators thrive on that kind of shit (and that's at least 1/3 of the issue), so responding with honest thought/emotion is pointless. And passive-aggressive manipulators have always been the most despised people to me. Like salesmen and other frauds, they have only their own gain in mind, and don't seem to see or care about what they're doing/saying. I can only imagine that the best-intentioned of them (and potentially forgivable, given time) simply don't understand what they're saying/doing. The worst of them are cruel pricks who, if they aren't exceedingly careful, will one day make a mistake where someone with less self-restraint than I takes their bullshit very very personally.

Maybe I've been watching too much of The Sopranos the past couple of days... the notion of making problems simply... disappear... through physical action seems to be the fantasy trump card on mind games of betrayal. Nobody can play mind games on Tony Soprano after they've been introduced to the business end of a wood chipper, right? Yes, this is only fantasy. It's only TV. But when desire for solution meets intractable problem, that's when the weird spurs of thought start to draw in fantastical elements... what would happen if I actually started throwing glassware? How would that conversation end? What if instead I just walked out and severed that connection, never speaking or listening again, giving only silence forever after?

The problem is, that's not my style. Direct. Head-on. Right here, deal with this now, while I'm standing here. Not behind my back or with the cover of your friends in public. I'm standing here and can say what I think, even when there's no cheering section... where's YOUR backbone? You're just another mealy-mouthed pussy. Cajole someone in private, but mock them in public? Here's hoping your karma gets you gang-raped by roving bands of post-apocalyptic mutant lepers, you sick fuck.

cheese-rolling inuries

Who would have thought events involving cow's milk cheese could cause injury? Things like that never happen in the only other cheese-associated pastime I know of. I feel like I'm missing out.

"you gonna pull those pistols, or whistle dixie?"

I've found a new appreciation for the Western as movie... I'm not sayin' they're my new-found joy or anything, but there's some subtlety in places I didn't expect. Of course, I could be reading into the dialog and seeing something that's not there, but in most movies (and particularly in Westerns where the dialog is sparse), scenes don't happen by accident. They have to consciously be put there, like the scene in The Outlaw Josie Wales after Josie and Lone Watie are galloping out of a Texas town where they just shot down 4 men. They slow their horses, and a brief conversation follows:

- Lone Watie: I noticed when you get to disliking someone, they ain't around fer long neither. How did you know which one was going to shoot first?
- Josie Wales: Well, that one in the center, he had a flap holster and he was in no itchin' hurry. And that one second from the left - he had scared eyes, He wasn't gonna do nothin'. But that one on the far left, he had crazy eyes. Figured him to make the first move.
- LW: How 'bout the one on the right?
- JW: [thinks for a second, spits at a scorpion] Never paid him no mind. You were there.
- LW: [as they ride off into the landscape, after a pause] I could've missed.

And in that pause and those three words "you were there," he communicates a notion that seems to be conveyed best in a Western with sparse dialog and squinting towards a vast landscape: they only met weeks ago, but Josie trusts him with his life. He didn't even have to think about it at the time of gunplay - he just knew that Lone Watie had his back. So much so that he didn't have to think about it. At the time LW asked, he even had to think back about why he didn't have to worry about the man on the right. JW says this to LW, communicating his friendship and trust indirectly, as in all Westerns (and lots of other "guy movie" genres). That he already knew LW would be there, and that LW wouldn't have missed because JW is confident in LW's steady aim - showing his confidence and trust yet again. In Clint Eastwood's trademark squint, there's almost a smile there, and if it weren't a Western, the ol' "punch on the shoulder" among friends would fit right into the scene there.

Found... and constructed

"The Napkins" - now they live In The World. Just think of it as a little bit of urban anthropology... a one-time single episode of Found Magazine. Notes scrawled on napkins found in a bar, long after the band has packed up and the stale beer has been sloshed into the alley. Are they all the same conversation? Are they all the same people? We can see 5 different people by the handwriting. But who is it? And what are they talking about? It seems to have been important enough at the time, or are they just treasured because the voyeur in each of us wants to see, to snoop in the medicine cabinet, rifle through the dresser drawer without getting caught.

Why? Who? What?

Read what you want into it. Make your own story. Exercise your fanatasy muscles. Make them fit your need for art and ephemera.

the edge of the First Ammendment

Recently heard on the news of a muslim woman who was granted a new trial in small-claims court after her previous case was dismissed because she wore a scarf and veil in court, only revealing her eyes.

I'm all for religious freedoms. More specifically, I'm more for freedom FROM religion, but that's another post. However if a person can't be identified as a matter of course of their religious beliefs, how can the state/court provide justice for the offenses against them? The state/court needs to know WHOM it's serving. There are some technical issues to this argument which I'll overlook for the moment (she could be identified by fingerprints I'd assume, if that's not a modesty issue). There's the potential solution that the case be tried by a female judge, but that would prevent men from being in attendance in the court, which would put court operations in secret, violating the rights of more people in the public by inducing gender discrimination... right?

Of course, now I'm really curious about other photo-ID based issues surrounding muslim women that wear the niqab or burqa... Can one get a driver's license? What's the point of photo ID when your face is covered? And even if driving is not an issue because the woman is not allowed to drive (due to familial or religious restrictions), what about writing a check? Or getting on a plane or train? (I'm of course ignoring some other important issues here in that the woman in the news was in court contesting damages to a rental car - how did she rent the car without showing her face?)

There's lots of issues here with women's rights in what may (or may not) be perceived as oppressive religious lifestyles. Those issues may (or may not) be relieved by the women, in their religious beliefs, giving up control of their lives by their own consent (which brings up even more issues about whether a sound-body-and-mind adult citizen can legally reliquish consent i.e. the Spanner case).

I suspect you can't actually buy TPE on ebay, but it's kind of funny that it was a sponsored link when searching for a link to the UK court case.

But really what I mean to throw out there is: We live in a world where photos of people's faces are the de-facto standard for identification and person-to-person authentication. Can an individual expect all of the rights and privileges afforded others while not revealing their face? Must an alternate means of identification become available and pervasive, like ADA provisions, to serve citizens with specific religious beliefs?

I'm kind of curious about both Muslim religious leaders as well as what the courts have to say, I'm sure that this has come up before...

Random Rants and Revelations (the 3 R's)

A bunch of stuff: notions, thoughts, remarks, complaints - that haven't been big enough for their own posts... finally a critical mass of their own. The "tired of hearing..." section:

- I didn't watch/listen to the State of the Union address the other night, but have heard enough excerpts on the radio. I'm fairly tired of hearing the phrase "the way forward". It wasn't that insiprational when Bill Ford, Jr. used it to describe the re-structuring at Ford to try to get out of their death spiral, and it sure isn't that inspirational when Dubya says it. (side note: Ford just announced a record-breaking $12.7 Billion annual loss for 2006. Nice "way forward". Foreshadowing, anyone?)

- Fairly tired of hearing the phrase "...and just let the market sort it out" as an idea of conservatives to federal funding legislation/social programs. If you really and truly want the market to be the solution to problems, then admit to what kind of "sorting out" the "market" would do: it would never rebuild New Orleans - it would let it rot, and with the exception of oil derricks and entry to the Mississippi River, would be abandoned. "The market" would also ignore notions of standard weights and measures, and wouldn't give a hoot about truth in advertising. You think drug companies go willy-nilly these days? Think back to the days of snake-oil salesmen back before things like the USDA/FDA. The grocer with his finger on the scale would be the least of your worries when grandma is taking a mercury-laced emetic to help with 'the vapors'. Not to mention "the market" wouldn't give a shit about justice, other than to protect the banks and trading places. You think "the market" would have sorted out that slave trade back in the 1800's? Think about that next time you hear about what "the market" will or will not sort out.

- I'm definitely tired of hearing "we can't ____ our way out of ____". Whether it's "drill our way out of the looming energy crisis" (i.e. ANWAR, etc.), or "pave our way out of urban gridlock"

Quotable nugget from the occasionally fun/occasionally tedious Terry Pratchett:

It was not anger AT anything. It was just pure, platonic anger from somewhere in the reptilian depths of the soul, a fountain of never-ending red-hot grudge; Mr. Tulip lived his life on that thin line most people occupy just before they haul off and hit someone repeatedly with a wrench. For Mr. Tulip, anger was the ground state of being."

Toast. It's the new black.

Everywhere I seem to turn, Toast has developed immense power. No, I'm not talking about raising a glass during a meal, or the software product, or the metaphor for kinky sex. It's not code for anything. We're talking bread, heated for a short period of time and thusly crispy.

Suddenly, everyone is REALLY into toast. It comes up in conversation for no apparent reason. To some, toast is comforting. To others, it's just for mornings. For the few and the proud, it's a late-night snack at 4am after a full night of multi-functional exhilaration.

I never knew it was so... [mmnh]... pivotal. All this time I've had a toaster and not known it's power to transform lives.

fire & pancakes

Last night I went to see a couple shows with G, and while it's been a pretty good run so far for bands seen over the past few weeks, I'll have to say that last night was... well, they just didn't have that spark that would last 'til the lights came on. Could've been cool. There was Hullabaloo (ska) at TC's a couple doors down from Fire Fabulon (fire performance art?) at The Elbow Room.

As far as Fire Fabulon goes, I'll just pat myself on the back for my prediction... either it'll be incredibly cool and well done, or it'll be over-hyped and pretentious, reminding us all of bad melodramatic poetry we wrote and then performed in high school at open mic night while wearing a beret and smoking Gauloises only days after our minds "like, were blown wide open, man" by reading Kafka. (hint: it was the latter) So yeah, I'm not a Burner, but apparently Fire Fabulon is. If it's typical of Burners, then I'm not missing much. The me-and-all-my-friends-are-so-freakish-and-cool-I-could-shit-myself Lollapalooza-esque mastubation fest. Don't get me wrong, I'm fond of freakish and masturbation, but play-freakish doesn't do much for me. And masturbation? When the only thing being stroked on stage is the group ego and if it cost money to get in the door, that kind of ego masturbation doesn't do much for me either. Add two things to that: The Elbow Room last night was one of the smokiest bars I've been to in a really long time. Add to that the fire performance, and the smoke/fumes coming off the diesel (or kerosene, or whatever), and my eyes started burning right after I walked past the doorman. Burnin' somethin' powerful.

Moseyed back to Hullabaloo after a while, which was far better. Unfortunately, they weren't as fun as Back Forty last week (which, though I've never been interested by bluegrass/funkgrass before, is my favorite new band). For some reason, the tired/sleepy impulse became powerful, and the fresh air/snacks impulse became even more powerful. Onward to home, and I really meant to make late night snacks (even went so far as to put a pita in the microwave to warm up)... but I got distracted. Needless to say I woke up this morning with a powerful hunger, so I made myself some pancakes. 9 of 'em. Talk about hittin' the spot with a pancake...

the trouble and dangerous

I just love translations of user manuals... There's always primo examples coming across the Pacific, but I still say that mid-90's Italian translations (yes, Campagnolo) were frickin' hiLARious.

Lord of the Perfumer (Tykwer movie)

I thought it was going so well... until it went and fucked itself. (and I'll try not to spoil any ending details)

I went to see Perfume: The Story of a Murderer at the Michigan Theater tonight. You may remember Tom Tykwer from the remarkable Run Lola Run a couple years back, and this one is as remarkable to begin with. Starts slow, with a little bit of that fairy-tale story narration background and development. The visuals are great. The journey and obsession of the perfumer is compelling. And the transition from victim to hero to villain to messiah to __?__ is slow and smooth. Credit to be given for that.

But Tykwer sharply and directly screwed the pooch when he brought on the whole-village orgy scene (I bet you're wondering "now how could that be a bad thing?" Trust me, bad acting, even by 1000 naked extras, is still bad acting). This would be the point where the movie became a hackneyed cross between Jitterbug Perfume (the quest for the ultimate scent "something the ancients knew but was lost in modern history") Lord of the Rings ("one perfume to rule them all, and in the darkness bind them") The Pied Piper, and Jack the Ripper.

One thing about Grenouille not having his own bodily smell, yet collecting and preserving the smells of others - a little too heavy handed with the smell-as-metaphor-for-soul. It's fairly clear that Grenouille is essentially a sociopath and has no understanding or empathy for other human beings. If he did, he wouldn't be killing. Maybe it's his lack of scent that makes his sense of smell so powerful?

Hell, maybe you'll like it if you see it. If you do, do let me know what you think of the turn it takes right at the orgy/public execution (which isn't the ending, by the way).

the world is purty today

I'm sure it comes as no consolation to the 35,000 people in SE Michigan that woke up to a power outage this morning, but it sure is pretty out in the world today. At the Arb all the trees are all silvery, the rhododendrons are all twisty and swirly.

new installment on "Eveything I Really Need to Know"

OK, I'm not really going to write a book any time soon, but I'm sticking with my opinion that Everything I Really Need To Know I Learned In A Pool Hall. A verbose, yet new installment...

You're standing over a pool table, the balls are broken up, there's no obstructions to clear, it's just you and these 8 balls. Contemplating the shot and the subsequent shots, building in your mind the path that runs the table. There's risky ways to run out, and there's safe ways to run out. The thing is, the risky way might also be the easy way too. If you just shoot this, then that, quick easy stop shots, it's no problem and victory is easy - except that this choice of runout means you have to leave the cue ball out in the table in a position that's also useful to your opponent. If you miss and leave it out in the open, they have an easy run too.

OR, do you try to half-run? Putting together a run from the break to the victory in one turn at the table doesn't happen just will-nilly, and there's the possibility that you might miss. So do you construct the run with a pause at the middle? Sink 4 balls and then play a safe shot, to come after the next 4 in the next inning when your opponent misses getting out of the safety? Or take that to the extreme in deliberation - 1 ball, then play safe. opponent kicks out of safety. 1 ball, then safety... until it's an easy 2-3 ball out. A tedious "defense only" option.

The right answer is: You must play offensively and defensively at the same time. Risks need to be taken to make any balls at all (duh), but choose a strategy that doesn't expose yourself unless you absolutely have to, and in those cases, be Extra Sure To Get It Right.

I say this because of something Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairman, General Peter Pace said in testimony :

Gen. Peter Pace, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, testified, “You're asking a Marine who's focused on winning whether he has a plan in case he doesn't win.”

Heck, Mr. General, sir... surely they teach things like a defendable offense in Marine Corps war college, don't they? If they don't, just come on down for a couple games of 8-ball or one-pocket and I'll show you what I mean. Sometimes having something to demonstrate with really helps you work out a problem in your head... I'll even pay for the table time.

reflections on AA city council NoMo Plan hearing

Tonight's Ann Arbor City Council meeting included a public hearing on the finalized Non-Motorized Transportation Plan (get it here in all of it's 200-page glory. yes, it's long, but if you're at all even recreationally curious about things like urban traffic planning, for peds/cyclists/motorists or otherwise, it's got lots of detail, but reads quickly). A couple of observations/comments:
- It seems like city council members like to tout their cyclist cred by making sure they mention that they're cyclists at some point when they're speaking. Gotta wonder what percentage of their daily transportation is bike/walk and what percentage is drive. And if, say, sailing or animals were the topic of the evening, would they suddenly discover their nautical heritage or pull out pictures of family pets for display?
- After the public comments section, many of the public in attendance got up and left (after they had said their bit). I realize that not everyone has love for the minutia of city council meetings, but the mass exodus brought one thought quickly to mind: Do the people speaking actually care about what goes on in the city council meeting? Or are they there just because they want to rant? (I have my doubts about whether they had some excuse like having to catch the last bus or get home to let the dog out... and that as responsible citizens are going to catch the re-broadcast on CTN.) To one who sees this "speechify and bail" technique, I can tell you this - If you can't even sit through the rest of the meeting, how much credit do you think people give to what you said when they watch you bail? (it's not like you have to stand during the whole meeting) If you can't respect the forum with your presence, how much respect do you think the forum has for you? I say this about both the Non-Motorized part as well as the podium-ey rants about Israel/Palestine that seem to take place every meeting. The funny thing about it is that after the public comments section, there was some more talk about the NoMo plan. Nothing the public could comment on, but the folks that left missed it.
- It was pretty clear that, regardless of progress in making AA a more bikeable/walkable city, there's an excessive amount of animosity between cyclists and motorists. You only need to see the flame wars on craigslist (rants and raves section) or encounter sometimes-raging-asshole/sometimes-peacemaker people like me to get a sample of it. Apparently, motorists don't go to city council meetings, since almost all of the folks that spoke were pro-Non-Motorized. Two of the people that got up to speak (Doug and Marianne? afterward they seemed to be a couple) made their points, and presented them well. Marianne: she has lived here 5 months and been pushed to the curb on her bike once, threatened by a motorist, and almost run over while on foot at crosswalk where she had the green light, and that she doesn't really feel safe riding OR walking in Ann Arbor. Out in the hallway, she suggested that she very well may be moving out of the city for this reason. Doug: Palo Alto, CA has just as many, if not more, cars on the road, but not nearly as much conflict with pedestrians/cyclists. He also made a good point about Palo Alto's success in increasing pedestrian/cyclist awareness by having plainclothes officers/sting operations handing out tickets to motorists when they fail to yield to pedestrains or other "light" offenses that are nevertheless a danger to anyone on the street that's not in a car.
- The City of Ann Arbor is apparently just GUSHING over the Google thing. Really, just falling all over themselves, as if they asked the head cheerleader to the prom and "she said yes! SHE REALLY REALLY SAID YES! And later, at the after-party... she's gonna let us sniff her panties! OMG, that is, like, sooooo kewl...." I know that there's a tradition of conflict over downtown parking availability, but the amount of time spent thrashing over the city giving Google "up to" 400 free parking spaces as part of the deal to move in downtown... I mean really. If the $150 million in tax revenue is so important that the city/state gives them $38M in tax credits, then the least we can do is just build Google a stupid parking garage.

two, too, too.... and to

Two weekends... of significance.

Too much overthinking.
Too much time on any one thing.
Too little variety.
Too few outlets to vent bad air properly/safely.
Too much overanalysis and navel-gazing.

Maybe simple is the easier path through complexity. Trying to watch how all the dozens of other plates are spinning leads to disaster. Focusing on what I want/need/can get, is plenty... to just keep my own couple of plates spinning.

Probably goes against my curious nature, but something to try. A toast: to trying on a cloak of simplicity and wearing it around for a while.


(Yes, I'm probably cryptic here. Don't take it the wrong way, it's just that not all things share well in every medium.)

yet another reason to love Wikipedia, especially when it has entries on just about everything:

of spaceships and chariots

Can't *not* post a link - how apt it is. Regardless of how contorted you might think the reason for something is, it's not necessarily whimsy, even if it has roots in ruts.

I love the idea that it's essentially an average-actual rut width essentially based on the mean of all wagon traffic, with the distribution biased by, but not controlled by, the influence of a "standards organization" like the Roman Empire

humbly impressed

While I'm mucking about with The Stop Sign Project (yes, it is a foolish amusement, but it's MY foolish amusement, thank you very much), I have some data points that I recorded with pen and paper. Since I'm getting the Garmin GPS (while I'm gushing about them, might as well put in a shameless plug for the unit and the software) into the mix these days, I'm trying to record routes, and discovered that I could manually create tracks/routes and thus merge the paper data into the electronic data.

How cool is it that you can not only turn on "autorouting" which between Point A and Point B will confine the route to established roads, but that you can specify the level of autorouting... are you going by car, bike, walking... need an emergency route or one that is appropriate to truck traffic? A map that takes into account one-way streets, low bridges, and load limits, and lets you pick which one you want, is "A+" super-fine for me. Good job, Garmin people.

some of the things I like about the town I live in

I don't know who put this up, but I know I like living in the same city where people do things like this.

Subtle, yet permanent. Nothing you would notice unless your eyes were open, head up, and you are able to walk without having to compulsively talk on the phone.

And for Ann Arborites who might bemoan the loss of ash trees (the City is euthanizing trees in order to try to control the spead of the Emerald Ash Borer)...

In case you didn't know, there seems to be something of a project to create public sculpture from the trunks of dead trees. It's sad to see in The Arb that part of protecting trees involves cutting some down to save others, but at least it's not a total loss.

On the other hand, I'm a little concerned about the sculpture carving in progress near my neighborhood... it kind of looks like something with wings, and I surely hope that it's an eagle or bird of some sort.


PLEASE let it not be some sort of cheesy angel crap. There's enough pseudo-sentiment for supernatural bullshit, I don't need a totem of it shoved in my face any more than it already is. Makes me wonder whether it's city-sponsored activity and whether I can make a state-church seperation argument... And if not, can make an "aesthetically offensive to me with its cheesiness" argument?

just a thing or two I like

... that I happen to have photos of.

When buildings touch and flow into each other. So close, but so different. With nary an inch between, all the way up to the top. Neighbors leaning on each other, the mating surface making them stand stronger than either would be by itself. Neighbors for as long as they live, so they had better be good neighbors to each other. Seamless, but not. Is this wall yours, or is it mine?


And I don't know why this strikes me, but over the holidays I noticed that my parents have in their bathroom cabinet dental floss from... 1965? It puzzles and intrigues me. It's not like they're keeping an archive of floss... but there's another one in the cabinet, and from maybe 10 years later than this one.

It hearkens from that era when phones were made of bakelite and the notion of "Colonel Mustard, in the library, with a phone" was possible. Can you imagine a murder mystery where someone got bashed to death with a modern cell phone? OK, maybe not by being bashed with it, but maybe by death by accidental inhalation.

Anyway, I don't want to tell them or ask them about this, 'cause I think it's kind of cute that they have 30-40 year old dental floss in their cabinet. Sure, there are fresher rolls of floss in there, and I do hope they are using those instead. But aside from the weirdness of displaying it as a museum piece out on a shelf, why else would they keep these in the cabinet if they didn't mean to use it on their teeth?

House of Sand and Fog

Fan of movies of visceral personal tragedy? If you haven't seen House of Sand and Fog, with Sir Ben Kingsley and Jennifer Connelly... go rent it. The quiet struggle, the descent into despair, the agony of the compound tragedy, all of it. Talking about it seems so weak in comparison. They didn't get an Oscar for it (Lord of the Rings got it that year, so I don't begrudge the academy) but... damn.

(see also: 21 Grams - another emotional-spin-cycle-rip-your-guts-out human struggle)

a big weekend

It was a big weekend, in ways large and small. Sure, the turning of the calendar, and the holiday residue and all that, but more than that. Nothing typical that you can point a finger at in a traditional sense like "whoa dude, that was a killer party man...", but it's like that overlarge bite of food or meal that kind of sticks at the top of your stomach and you know it's going to go down, and it's going to be healthy and nutritious eventually, but you can't force it. In it's own time it will do it's thing, but in the meantime, you know it will take a while to process.

Had some significant conversations and non-conversations with friend(s) that, after the proper application of context and history, seem newly formative. Understanding boundaries of what current events are shared safely and what is not safe to trust and to share. Don't misunderstand me, it's not that I'm feeling overly vulnerable or fragile, but more that it's important that it's two-way, and a conversation is a dialog (not the mono- version). When what you have to say seems to just hit a featureless surface and then thud, with echoes of non-understanding or non-acceptance or intolerance, what's really the point of it? It's like pulling teeth, and why take the time to explain yourself when a disapproving response has no meaningful details other than to be disapproving? "It is what it is. Fuck it... and move on. Spend your energy where it won't feel like a total waste of time trying to push a rope." He says to himself... I'm getting angrier with every sentence, so I'll just stop right.... there.

lobsession

A typo that creates a word notion that's fun to play with... I was describing someone's unnatural obsession with user interfaces when I mis-typed it as "lobsession". It conjures an image in my mind - the lobbing of one's thoughts into a public space. Like brainstorming, but with slightly more connection to the idea - in traditional brainstorming, people are encouraged to not prejudge their thoughts before voicing them.

I'd propose that in a lobsession (Lob Session) one would have some ownership of an idea, and presumably it would be more developed than just something that just popped into your head. Thoughts can be outlandish in a lobsession, but they have to be Supportably Outlandish. They have to have backstory or be internally consistent or have continuity.

the new old hell-yeah

Dear Ann Arbor/Ypsi Beer Enthsiasts:

If you haven't been to Arbor Brewing Co. in the past month or so, you REALLY need to stop there and have a pint. I don't know what it is they did, but 3 months ago I was wondering whether the beers were just going to continue a downward spiral into boringness. But then KA-THWOCKO! Just the other day I was there, and boy howdy... they sure did do something about the beers. Put some new stuff on the menu too (hooray for the IPA Chicken with goat cheese sammich)

Three new ones I hadn't had before, but fully endorse: Downtown Brown (not a diva beer, but very drinkable pint after pint). HXL - a nameplay on the Huxell, but XL because it's a high-gravity double-strength version of the Huxell Best Bitter. Too heavy to have lots of, but tasty fer sure. And saving the best for last: the Duggie Style Rye. Fuckin' hell, y'all. Even it's smells have temporal complexity. The smell has a start and finish, and they work together so well. Taste? Well, that's even a better part you'll have to discover yourself.

And not only the new stuff, but it seems they've freshened up the Porter too. I used to think Grizzly Peak had a better porter and ABC had a better stout. I think ABC has re-taken the Porter crown on this one. Smoky and with a little bit of a snap on the tongue. Niiice.

I know the brewmaster is unlikely to be reading this, but on the off chance he is: An absofuckinglutely STELLAR job with these brews. Keep 'em coming. Glad to see new stuff. Glad to have ABC again be a destination for me and not just "when I'm in the neighborhood".

Grizzly Peak brewmaster? You'd best sharpen up your game if you don't want to get dropped.

LRB Personals

There's actually a book of the best personals placed in the London Review of Books (current ads can be read here)

Enjoyable excerpts from this week:

My psychotherapist suggested I place this ad. Woman, 43. Not mental, despite whatever a fear of open spaces, the colour red, the sound of rain, plastic containers, beards, percussionists, birdsong and cornflakes may suggest Box no. 01/03

Anybody seen in a bus over the age of 30 has been a failure in life." M, 43, failure, seeks F anywhere on the Arriva 333 route between Oare and Maidstone, for evenings cut short and diesel-choked embraces (the last bus leaves the Chequers Centre at 1817 and it's a long walk). Box no. 24/10

When eventually calming down after a heated argument involving smashed plates, thrown cutlery, insults directed at your circus side-show of a family, and emotionally destructive sex, you should know now that I’m very unlikely to participate in that ‘no, really, I’m sorry, it was my fault’ charade. You accept all of the blame all of the time or you grow gills to breathe in the stale, bitter soup of my angry and eternal silence. Cuddly F, 36, brown hair, green eyes, degree in geology Box no. 01/05

what to look forward to in asymmetrical warfare

Golly, what do you think is in store for us over the next 3-5 years in Iraq... let's look at some examples from history in which a global power tried to fight in an asymmetrical war against an opposing force that was distributed (not concentrated in one place), in their native environment, and filled with the enthusiasm of their own righteousness:

- Afghanistan. The USSR tried for 20 years to occupy/convert/take over Afghanistan. They moved in, but were constantly harried and the costly effort eventually failed. They pulled their soldiers out without succeeding in doing anything other than ruining the property values in Kabul.

- Vietnam. Didn't go well. Ended only when the invading forces gave up after thousands died and billions wasted. Never really did unseat the opposition. 30 years later, trade relations are "normalized", if that really means anything.

- Northern Ireland. Been flaring up, though it had been quiet just previously. 205 years of conflict with an imperial power doesn't just dry up.

... oh yeah, and there was this little clump of colonies across the Atlantic that declared their independence from England a few hundred years ago. They were fairly successful at defending themselves against an imperial army based thousands of miles away.

So what makes anyone think that this asymmetrical war is suddenly going to be radically different? Well, the price tag will be higher - more zeros after the dollar sign than ever before... that'll be different, I guess.

disturbing-funny, disturbing cute, and disturbing *disturbing*

Back from holiday visit to the fam in ChicagoLand, and though I have a bountiful list of comments to expound on ad nauseum from thoughts during walks, drives, sleeplessness... they require more focused thought than I can give them right now. In the meantime, we have:

Disturbing-funny

where can I get some of this? are there other savory flavors? how about lobster bisque?

Disturbing-cute:

It's not a causal thing, is it? That running with scissors makes children slow... or that you drive slowly because the children in this neighborhood have a tendency to run with scissors and could be doing it at any time?

And then, disturbing-disturbing: Michigan House Bill 5882 which, among other things... makes the sweeping statement about where life begins "'Unborn child' means a live human being in utero regardless of its gestational stage of development." (Section 2E)

Of course, it would also make it a crime for the "supposed" father (though paternity may not be known) of a child of a pregnant female younger than 18 to change cohabitation with her (Sections 3D and 4D). Meaning... a 18 boy lives with a 17 year old girlfriend. She finds out she's pregnant and it could his, but also could be someone else's... if he moves out, he could be imprisoned for up to a year, based on interpretations of "intent to compel". Intent to compel doesn't even seem to require an action... "Intent"?

Does this ever happen to you? (the generation gap)

My parents had me pretty late in life... while most breeding couples start really feeling the biological clock tick at about the age of 30, my folks were closer to 40 when they had me.

So basically, as a youngster, I've served as the Ambassador of Technology in some form or another to my parents. (there is still a rotary phone installed on the wall of the kitchen - at this point not a sign of lack of progress, now it's cool vintagey) In 1999, after years of Dad asking about "what the internet is like" and what it would take to "get on it" with the 486/Windows 3.1 he had, I finally just decided that the gift of a modern computer and a dialup account would set them on the path. Today, the same 7-year old Win98 box is chugging along on the dial-up. It's fair to say that access to technology/media hasn't made them any more adventurous/inquisitive about developments in said technology/media. In 2003, it was the humble cell phone. Bought them a pay-as-you-go phone since they might not want to have to deal with a contract... Only in the past year have they gotten comfortable with the notion that they don't need to call FROM a cell phone to reach some one else's cell phone.

I'm not saying all this just to rag on my parents for avoiding the cutting edge... I'm saying this all as background for this brief, yet far overdue observation:

Whenever I go to visit over the holidays and I sit down at the computer to check mail, browse about, etc. etc., eventually either Mom or Dad will wander over and stand over my shoulder, watching what I'm doing, not as surveillance, but "just to learn something new". And I don't know how to say it in a way that will be convincing on this, the 522nd time - there's nothing to learn by watching someone browse the web on a dial-up connection. Waiting for pages to load is not a learning experience. There's nothing to see. And ultimately, if I do do something on the local machine at my normal speed, they eventually shuffle away shaking their heads muttering something about never being able to follow what I'm doing, it's just too complicated. So then the frustrated teenager in me huffs and puffs "well why do you keep staring over my shoulder then?"

Ah, children and their parents. No matter what age, you'll always be your parent's kid, oppressed by their protective parenting, and always doing something that their parental wisdom considers foolish. So stop picking things up off the ground and putting them in your mouth. I mean it. Right now. I'm going to count to three, and don't make me come over there...

the Patron Saint of Venereal Disease and Hemorrhoids

not kidding... there really is one: Saint Fiacre. Along with a patron saint of locksmiths and bombardiers. (thanks Wikipedia!)

Happy post-solstice, Norteamericanos

In case you didn't notice, yesterday was the winter solstice and from here on out, the days get longer and the sun is out more and more. I, for one, am glad for this. It's about frickin' time. And that rain? In December? It kicks ass. Why? You don't have to shovel rain.

first three thoughts

Woke up this morning at an uncharacteristically early (for me) hour, with three simultaneous thoughts/sleep remnants:
- If Chicago can ban foie gras from being served/sold, and NYC can ban trans fats, and ____ cities can ban smoking in all public places (bars and restaurants included), I want there to be a ban on having to see obese people shovel french fries into their maws in public. If there's going to be a health/cruelty argument for smoke/trans/foie, then let's not stop there...
- If pro-lifers argue that life begins at conception/fertilization, then in-vitro lab technicians that drop test tubes with blastocysts in them should be prosecuted for negligent manslaughter and women who smoke during pregnancy should be charged with child abuse.
- The opening of PJ Harvey's song Oh My Lover which, though PJH "rejects the notion that her songs are autobiographical," is kind of funny seeing that it starts of with an affirmation of polyamory, and the artist's first name is... Polly.

It seems my sleep was one of of personal freedoms offended by the hypocrisy of zealots, with a soundtrack from 1992.

Neither child, nor adult.

Among the things I'm unfamiliar with, the boundaries of childhood and adulthood can be counted among them, but not for the usual reasons. Is it that I am more like one, the other, both, or neither? Today I went on my first guardianship investigation trip (a volunteer program through the Washtenaw County court system to periodically check in on the health and welfare of children/elderly/disabled that are wards of the court). While I know that my conversation skills with children isn't well developed, it seems that I'm also unacquainted with the conversation skills of adult non-academic professionals that are not engineers/businesspeople - in this example it's lawyers, social workers, etc. I kinda felt a little lost and uncomfortable for a bit, and it was weird. Maybe I just approach "serious life issues" with either complete aplomb or heightened tension (this would be my all-or-nothing approach to so many things), and the idea of calm pseudo-non-chalance in the face of health-and-welfare issues, (while maintaining vigilance I might add) is sort of an interesting trick that I don't quite know yet.

It's a lovely segue some of the other childhood/adulthood identification pet peeves of mine. Chip on my shoulder and opportunity to rant? You bet:

Why is it that somehow because I haven't married, bred children, or bought real estate that I'm somehow considered a non-adult? It's nothing overt, it's just that good ole "when you've lived as long/had the same experiences/had to go through what I've had to, you'll understand." holier-than-thou shit that bugs me.

Responsibility as a parent... what, you mean getting your girlfriend knocked up at 22? (a case where a history of safe sex is retroactively held against me) Or do you mean marrying someone out of familial pressure, or chronological pressure, or inability to live a life of your own? (a case where strong sense of self is held against me) Or that your incessant financial pressure is because you're in debt up to your eyeballs because you don't have a clue about the idea of saving for the future or spending less than your income, or other forms of consumer self-restraint? (a case where my sane financial choices is held against me.)

Don't worry, this isn't some sort of persecution complex shining through. This is just me having a moment. Bear with me, it'll pass...

I hate Packard

In the spirit of the holidays, I'm embracing not only my rage, but my hatred. Where I live in Ann Arbor, my most often traveled street is Packard Rd. Going downtown? Packard westward. Going to Ypsi? Packard eastward. Going grocery shopping? Packard. Going to the West Side? Packard. Driving to Detroit? Packard. I have come to hate the familiarity of it. For some, familiarity is comforting. But for me... in this... it has bred the cliched contempt. I've started to go out of my way and intentionally engaged more traffic, or crappier roads, or riding hills, or whatever to avoid it. Who thought one could start to hate a road and the monotonous landscape it represents?

Sung to the tune "I Hate Music" by the Replacements (circa 1981)...

"I hate Packard
Sometimes I don't
I hate Packard
It's got too many notes

I hate my high school
Sometimes I went
I hate Packard, man
Never heaven sent"

Radiolab/morality

Michigan Radio has been re-broadcasting old radio segments from WNYC's program RadioLab on Monday nights. I caught the one on morality (origins and development), and while I think the editing/production of RadioLab is a little too snarky for my tastes, there were some interesting points to be made. Specifically: that fMRI studies have shown that there's an area of the brain that mediates those instinctual vs. analytic thoughts (id vs. superego). That there's a cooperative evolutionary basis to "moral" sharing behavior (it improves the survival of the community and therefore the species). That even children as young as 2 can tell the difference between rules that are rules for rule's sake and those that are because of a deeper underlying meaning. Check out the audio archives here.

late for this year...

Picked up some holiday greeting cards recently that just totally hit the spot on my holiday sentiments, and as it turns out, the company makes all kinds of nifty other stuff: improve your vocabulary of slang, sex, therapy, and corporate america with flashcards. Dial-an-excuse, or choose-a-religion with wheels. Heck, can't beat that, with a stick or otherwise.

FINALLY... *ugh*

After many, many, MANY charitable contributions to the weekly 9-ball tournament, I finally actually got somewhere with it... As in, I won enough matches to win my entry fee back. Nothing special at 8th place, (particularly since 1st place pays out 10x the entry fee) but it's a landmark for me. I've been making $20 donations forever, and never getting into the money has been aggravating, especially for a tournament that is handicapped to equalize stronger players against weaker ones (instead of an open tounament where the winners are champions who are easy to spot even before the first match).

So yeah, I'm not *too* proud of it - I wasn't really playing that spectacularly. I broke a spot ball in, made the cheese 5-6 times, shit the 9 in twice, and was fortunate to have opponents rattle the spot or 9 ball 3-4 times. A lucky tournament, but it's about time - after all those tournaments where I was generally feeling and playing well, either got a string of bad rolls or had my head stuck up my ass and couldn't make a 9-ball when it counted.

hate to say it, but I told you so...

Shiny-happy people are doomed. To live a longer life, try being honest. With yourself and other people too.

"Every time a person is forced to repress his true feelings there are negative consequences for his health," said Professor Dieter Zapf, a researcher into human emotions.

Fake-smile practitioners take note: don't say I didn't try to warn you.

Spelt

What is it about spelt bread these days? I seem to be seeing it overflowing the bread shelves in quality food stores, and so I got some. Pretty crappy bread, if'n ya ask me, which you didn't, but whatever. Weak texture, no crust, non-existent flavor (puhleaze don't tell me "oh, it's *subtle* flavor you have to appreciate"), and not exactly very sturdy, either. The stuff I got falls apart easier than the Great Harvest crap-bread (that I don't like either). Makes crappy grilled cheese, that's for certain, too.

Must be another one of those "wonder plants" like hemp that is supposedly the cure for all our ills from acne to global warming, but really isn't that remarkable of a raw material unless you're making rope or smokin' up. Shee-it... even Zingerman's can get bread right... now if only their bread didn't harden up before I can finish what I bought.

"prompt and highly motivated escape behavior"

What the hell is this? I mean, other than a device for cooking people?

in touch with my inner rageaholic

Tonight, with nothing really going on, I strapped on a bike and went tooling around - with no real destination in mind, I guess I was literally out looking for trouble. Returned a movie and some library CDs, then out to Ypsi, thinking I would do some exploring of places to plop and read a book and drink a beer or a coffee... but then I realized I'd forgotten my book (In the Company of the Courtesan, which I'm really enjoying) at home. Ok, fine - I'll just poke around town then. Went into the new vintage toy store Rocket downtown Ypsi and got a Morton Salt salt shaker for nostalgia, but without my literary entertainment and places I would have like to go into closed, I headed back westward. Hungry as hell, I stopped at Whole Foods and picked up some Muesli bread that I grazed on while browsing the magazine rack at the Barnes and Noble nearby. From there, it's into town, with thoughts of a beer on my mind. And that's when I passed through campus....

North on State St., and from out of a car window, I hear something ending in "... should ride on the sidewalk..." as this car full of yougsters passes me. That shit pisses me off to no end - people in cars thing they are strong, anonymous, and invulnerable. Well, I'm not your grandma - say that to my face, asshole. Peaceful co-existence between cyclists and motorists? I try to most of the time, but not tonight. No, not me.

Hitch my britches, jump on it a little and check back - no traffic. Skippedy-bip, around the pedestrians, up to their bumper, but can't get around... ah, the lights turning 3 blocks up... biding time, and luckily the window is still open... it's a car full of youngsters. 5 of 'em, can't be more than 19. Rolling up, blocking in the door, back of the bike blocking the rear door, my 6'3", 200 lbs of my serious angry face in the window...
Rageaholic Me: "you got something to say to me?"
Pimple Farm: "uhh.. no. nuh-uh"
RM: "you seemed to have something you wanted to say to me a mile back."
PF: "who me? no, I didn't say anything..."
RM: "oh, that was maybe some other red buick with 5 kids in it? try again. you seem to have a lot to say when you're feeling tough driving along, but when I'm right in front of you somehow you've got nothing to say. you got something to say to me, say it." (I somehow managed to avoid the "go ahead and say something, you pussy" cliche)
[a couple breaths of glaring staring here, it's clear that he's brave in the car when he thinks he won't have to account for his behavior and weak in the knees when pushed back against. the light turns green, we go our seperate ways]

I feel a little bad about instigating on what are basically kids out for a ride, but if they promise to think twice next time, I'll promise to try to forget that I have a heavy lock and they have a glass windshield. It didn't have to go this way, it really didn't. But I'll be a cliched rage-filled asshole cyclist some day if this keeps up.

livin' large? .... livin' huuuuge

A Confession: I swear, I don't know shit about wine. It's easy to know I like something when I taste it. Alternately: "I can't tell you what art (or pornography) is, but I know it when I see it." When I'm it comes to picking out a bottle based on information on the outside of it, I'm completely hopeless. But not as much today as I was on Monday.

Yesterday, G came over with some wine and we had a little mini tasting party. 4 wines, 4 cheeses, good conversation, music loud enough that the neighbor knocked at the door (but I swear officer, it wasn't very loud). It is quite a fine experience to have multiple wines side by side to compare back and forth, to figure out what you like and don't like. Bop back and forth across the mini-spectrum, try them with food or not... Yes, I realize this is not a new thing. "Wine People" have tasting parties all the time, I guess. New for me then. What I *did* find out though is that it seems I really like big, young, woody Zinfandels from Cline Cellars. Damn that was some goodness. Looking at their other offerings, I'm definitely going to have to try the Big Break Zinfandel too. Bring on the power. Bring on the 800lb. gorilla of wine, that shoulders its way through and says "oh yeah, wanna make somethin' of it? well, do ya?"

Oh, and cheese? Well, get me some o' that 18 month gouda, or the salty stinky cheese, and I'll be putty in your hands. Goat cheese? Yup, some o' that too - even if it happens to resemble a twinkie in the photo.

Flav/Bettini. fo' sho'.

Flavor Flav interview of 2006 World Champion roadie Paolo Bettini

dude.

I... uh... well, let's just say that I'm frickin' impressed. This guy can ride a bike, fo' shizzle.

how scary...

This video of an interviewer on the street asking "who should America invade next?" - and the inability of interviewees to identify countries on a map (he mislabels Australia as Iran, Korea, etc. and they go ahead pointing to the island continent as Iran/Korean without correcting him) Of course, it could be that these are actors... but the notion that I can believe people can be that clueless is what scares me more. Heck, there's even a game show that focuses on the ignorance of everyday American passers-by for comedic effect.

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (winter edition)

I have no idea where this is from, but it gives me ideas for when we start to get some real snow falling...

apparently, my seduction style is....

Go ahead... take the quiz for yourself (go to the page below, and then the "extras" button on that page)

maps-n-stuff

I confess - I dig maps. I dig visualization tools. I really dig cool maps. And GIS? Well that just gives me a full-on-chubby. Representing data spatially is just flat out cool (that's really what a map is anyway, no? the abstract representation of relevant space and information, while hiding irrelevant spaces and information.)

So though I haven't done much work on my map of "additions to stop signs" lately, I'm re-inspired by a art/engineering project called Blue Puddle that just happens to be based here in Ann Arbor. Check out the outdoor electricity map and "making-of" video. Something that Zack makes a good point about: "part of the fun of this is just going out there and seeing your city in a way that you don't usually get to see it." How true.

oh.... fuck. not this again...

I've been feeling a little sickish the past week - nothing terrible, just coughing, chest congestion, a little bit of sinus congestion. It seemed to be clearing up today, even so much that I was thinking about making social plans for the weekend. And then, just 15 minutes ago, I felt an itch. On my wrist.

And now I'm worried.

You see, this has happened a few times before... where in November/December (right around Thanksgiving-ish) it starts with itchy arms - I'd get hives on the inside of my forearms. Every day they would go away for half the day, and every day they would come back. One year they would build up during the day and clear up over night, the other year they would come in the evening and start to clear out when I woke up. Either way, it starts on the arms... then legs... then back, neck, face, etc. That puffy eyelid, wide-looking nose, and red blotches you see ain't because of waking up from a nap...



Two years ago, it kept getting worse, and after 4-5 days, they were appearing on my face and lips. When I looked up articles online it said that if they appear on the lips or tongue, that's a danger sign to warn of airway constriction and anaphylaxis. The next night as it got worse and my throat was bothering me, I drove myself to the emergency room. Ever thought you were ignored in the ER and told to wait? Next time try telling them you have hives on your lips and your throat is bothering you - that gets you rushed inside, 2 IVs, and LOTS of attention to make sure you don't die on them. Oh yeah, and having a camera shoved up your nose and down your throat is no fun either.

------ not-so-minor side-trip here -------
So here's the freakout moment of the day... as I'm writing this, I'm thinking intensely about my bodily status. How do I feel? Itching? More? Less? How's my throat feel? And maybe because I've been trying ignore the discomfort of coughing, I suddenly am aware of how raw my throat feels. Is it tight or just sore from coughing for the past three days? Is it getting tighter? Holy Shit... is this real or am I just freaking out? Suddenly, I'm wondering where my Epi-Pen is. Upstairs to the bathroom, rummaging around in the drawers, getting a little more worried, hyper every second... "I'm not like this, really," I say to myself, "I don't freak out. I'm not the panic-ey type. No, not me." But the idea of dying of anaphylaxis alone in my apartment with no one to discover my body for days would be really pathetic, and if I'm motivated by anything, I'm motivated by the desire to avoid being pathetic. At least I can take some Benadryl... slow acting, but better than nothing while I look for the Epi-Pen. A little worried, hands shaking as I try to pry the little capsules out of the blister pack. (No matter what the packaging is, the more in a hurry you are, the more impenetrable they are, and the frustration and a little sweating now doesn't help.) Sip water, and down with the Benadryl. Fuck, where is the epi injector? I know I had it with me in Utah... oh, is it in my backpacking first aid kit? No. Shit. Travel toiletries? No. Shit. wherewherewhere... backup travel shaving kit? No. But I found the old expired Epi-Pen, so at least that's something. Downstairs to the storage area, rummage through my backpacking gear to find the fresh Epi-Pen, and I suddenly don't mind the fact that my health insurance didn't cover jack shit and it cost me $120 out of pocket.
------ not-so-minor side-trip ends -------

I don't know if the Benadryl is kicking in, or if just knowing that I have the epi injector calmed me down, but I'm feeling much better right now. It did get me thinking though... do I know any of my neighbors and if they know CPR? If I found myself unable to breathe, what would I do? call 911, sure, but they would never get here in time. Suffice it to say that I'll be carrying the Epi-Pen with me for the next few weeks.

Back to the non-threatening, non-ER side of this - after the emergency room trip three years ago, I haven't had any problems. I went for an allergy screening afterwards, and everything was negative (indoor/outdoor/food/whatever). My environment hasn't changed, and besides... I've had these flare-ups even when I lived other places, over the past 10 years. Seems to always be in Nov. though. After the UMich hospital found out that they has screwed up the allergy screening (old allergens/lab mistake, something like that) they invited me back for a free comprehensive re-screening (40 different allergens tested this time), and STILL they didn't find anything that I'm allergic to.

So it's still a mystery. I just hope this damn thing doesn't come back again this year, because going through all the stupid gyrations to eventually find out nothing sure was aggravating. And cost money, too. I should have at least gotten something out of it better than "Well, we don't know what it is, but be sure to keep an eye out for things that might be causing it. Keep your Epi-Pen handy, and good luck." Fucking quacks.

because it needed killin'

As I found myself flipping channels, I finally decided "enough is enough". If I can't control my own behavior on this, I'll just have to work around my own weakness. Take myself out of the loop, as it were.

BEFORE:

... and AFTER:

Shadow Art Fair

Went to Shadow Art Fair today at Corner Brewery in Ypsi... saw some nifty stuff, and bought a little too. It was pretty chock full of people at the fair, but I heard that Friday was ridiculous busy - as in how-many-people-can-fit-in-this-building full.

Stuff I liked...

Miranda Tarrow's "Circus Peanuts" (which now hangs on my wall)

...and there's just something about "A Half-Sucked Egg" (Miranda Tarrow & Howard Forbes) that I really like. Didn't buy the work, but got the postcard...


Chris Sandon, a part of Dirty Bros. had some alluring/disturbing work available, and lastly, I think I'm going to get all my greeting cards from SappyCards from now on.