Sometimes, it's better not to comment

This morning after I got off the elliptical, I was in the locker room changing while a kid with DS was in cleaning the lockers. Didn't recognize him, but his name must have been Zachary, since the woman supervising him (possibly his mother) stood in the door of the men’s calling him repeatedly. When he finally answered her, she stood in the door and lectured him.

“Zachary, now you’re in trouble, because I called you five times and you chose not to answer.” I couldn’t very well argue with her logic. “If the building was on fire and I tried to get you to come out of there and you didn’t answer, we’d have a real problem, wouldn’t we?”

I had to bite my tongue.

Far be it from me to point out to her that if the building were on fire, the possibility of seeing a half-naked man in the midst of his post-workout ablutions really shouldn’t get in the way of her coming right in and dragging the kid out by his ear, if necessary.

Thought for today

“The unthankful heart discovers no mercies; but the thankful heart will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings.” ~ Henry Ward Beecher

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Wendell Berry

It's been a long, frustrating semester in a lot of respects, and I'm only just now starting to feel it wind down. This week ended with a couple of packed but relatively productive days -- a welcome change in all respects from the preceding weeks and months. Monday has a list of chores waiting for me, but that's still 18 hours away, so I'll let it rest out of sight, and thus out of mind.

The first round of leaves is on the ground, reminding me that there's work yet to be done in the yard to make ready for the rapidly-encroaching cold. There are shrubs yet hungry for fertilizer, grass that will need a final shave and trim before I put the mower away, and speaking of the mower, a fuel line requiring repair.

Excavation-by-hand of the back yard slope for a retaining wall continues, if slowly, and new emphasis lies on the completion of the long-dormant chicken house, which needs doors, trim and a finished pen. Decisions are being taken for the breeds to be purchased this spring, with current thinking running largely to standard cochins and perhaps a few fancy bantams. Plans are also being laid for the acquisition of toulouse or brown Chinese geese to serve as companions and watchdogs, since the dog is about effective as a stone post when it comes to sounding the alarm.

The windows have a new coat of paint, the doors are painted and have new storm doors installed, the house has been pressure-washed for the first time in about 2 years, the new flower beds in the back are complete, screens are rehung, and the front door has been jacked and replumbed so it actually opens again.

Inside, the picture window is repaired following a recent visit by the manufacturer's technician -- who knew windows needed technicians? Mom's childhood hutch, which later served as a bookcase for me, has been repurposed (again) to serve as a china cabinet in the dining room, and will shortly hold a selection of the original Japanese Noritake for display. The old stationary trainer has been sold, the desk is on offer, and the library index and organization is largely complete. Christmas vacation plans include ripping out the carpet in the library and adding new furniture, hardwood flooring and paint. Or maybe just the flooring and paint. Who knows?

In the spring, we put a down payment on a turkey, and this weekend were rewarded with an organically-raised 12lb Red Bourbon, plucked and dressed. It's currently thawing in the refrigerator, awaiting a Tuesday brining and Wednesday roast. With so much family, it's funny how we hardly get leftovers any more, so we make our own excess of turkey.

Church this morning was a service of little-t thanksgiving. When Pastor Jay quizzed the congregation about what makes life worth living for them, I offered books by Terry Pratchett, and Emma offer "pasketti." I was reminded, again, how far above most of the world's standard my life is, and I remain grateful for that.

Today is a gorgeous day, cold but brilliantly clear. One of the razor sharp days of autumn-passing-to-winter that I adore. I'm thankful for that, as well.

Thanksgiving is sweeter than bounty itself.
One who cherishes gratitude does not cling to the gift!
Thanksgiving is the true meat of God’s bounty;
The bounty is its shell,
For thanksgiving carries you to the hearth of the Beloved.
Abundance alone brings heedlessness,
Thanksgiving gives birth to alertness.
The bounty of thanksgiving will satisfy and elevate you,
And you will bestow a hundred bounties in return.
Eat your fill of God’s delicacies,
And you will be freed from hunger and begging.

Rumi

America the Beautiful

PHC featured a snippet of my favorite American anthem yesterday, and it was so powerful left a catch in my throat that nearly made me pull the car over to recover.

O beautiful, for spacious skies,

For amber waves of grain,

For purple mountain majesties

Above the fruited plain!

America! America! God shed His grace on thee,

And crown thy good with brotherhood, from sea to shining sea.

O beautiful, for pilgrim feet

Whose stern, impassioned stress

A thoroughfare for freedom beat

Across the wilderness!

America! America! God mend thine ev'ry flaw;

Confirm thy soul in self control, thy liberty in law!

O beautiful, for heroes proved

In liberating strife,

Who more than self their country loved

And mercy more than life!

America! America! May God thy gold refine,

'Til all success be nobleness, and ev'ry gain divine!

O beautiful, for patriot dream

That sees beyond the years,

Thine alabaster cities gleam

Undimmed by human tears!

America! America! God shed His grace on thee,

And crown thy good with brotherhood, from sea to shining sea!

Hey Lindsey: Time to go swimming, douchebag.

“I’ll beat [Olympic gold medalist] Michael Phelps in swimming before Barack Obama wins North Carolina.”

Well, brother, I surely hope you've been taking lessons, because the AP says the number of uncounted provisional/absentee ballots is fewer than the distance by which Obama leads McCain. Shorter AP: Obama wins North Carolina. Welcome to Blue, tarheels!

Today's link list

Updated throughout the day:

• Team Obama flips NC from red to blue. Go us!
• The Typography of Dexter: Serial Cover Star
  
• Newseum's front page archive for Nov. 5, 2008
• Mark Newman's population- and EC-weighted election results cartograms
• Jon Henke's sound advice for Republicans...we need a solid opposition
• TUAW's multitouch tips for the new MB/MBPro models
• New "Yes We Did" stickers from Shepherd Fairey and MoveOn.org
• Limited-edition MoveOn Shep Fairey posters coming Friday
• Tips for preserving newsprint
• Lipstick Confessions: The circular firing squad commences
• New-style LED throwies
• Newsweek's Special Election Project
• “And for my kids, an America that never addressed a Black man as ‘Mr. President’ doesn't exist.”

Here on the pulse of this new day...

Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister's eyes, into
Your brother's face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope

Good morning.

- Maya Angelou

It's taken me fully a day to get myself back together. Starting early Saturday morning, I worked for four solid days canvassing Cabarrus county for the Obama campaign. In the course of that work, I shook hands with the most dignified elderly black men, the youngest just-starting-out Latino mothers, trailer-park rednecks and solidly middle-class suburbanites. I was welcomed by most, sworn at by a few, and threatened only once, so a good four days overall.

I was prepared for the physical exhaustion, the gas expenditures, the shin splints, and the sort of deep-set weariness that comes from, quite literally, jogging around all day. I was prepared to make new friends, to be rejected, and sometimes to be looked at strangely (more than once I was, quite literally, the only white person in sight, and it's funny that for the first time in my life, that didn't bother me a whit).

What I was absolutely unprepared for was how deeply invested I suddenly felt. I had been to rallies, to organizing meetings and such. I'd talked politics with friends, come around gradually to my support of Obama. We donated as our modest means allowed, not much but enough to count. What I hadn't done, in this campaign or ever before, was put my feet one in front of the other and walk the talk. I hadn't knocked on doors, hadn't pleaded with disinterested young black men to please take half an hour to go vote, because North Carolina really would be that close. I hadn't issued a fusillade of thanks to the working mother of four for taking time not only to vote herself, but to take her elderly parents, and browbeat her 18-year-old son into going as well, because North Carolina really would be that close. I hadn't experienced the deep satisfaction of knocking on the trailer door and speaking for ten minutes with the man fresh off a 12-hour shift at work, listening to him tell me in a deep Southern drawl that Barack Obama would really work to help guys like him, and feeling the kinship that comes from believing that you both get it.

I was, frankly, not prepared for my own wracking emotional response as the states were called one by one, nor for the sobs -- oddly mixed with huge laughter -- that came shortly after the race was called for Barack.

It's been a long way from Dennis to Barack, personally and politically. Certainly it's been a long haul for the country, and it's far from over. But for the first time in seven years, I feel truly, deeply proud of America's politics, and the extraordinary grace we have been granted in these last few days. Certainly, I feel as proud as I ever have before. My daughter, who is Asian, will know that even the highest achievement in the land is not limited to old, white men. That fact holds special significance for me today.

Certainly there's work to be done. Those of us who backed Barack have a special requirement to hold him to his promises. We who worked to see the legacy of Jesse Helms torn down, to see Elizabeth Dole sent back like Dorothy to Kansas, and to see Robin Hays sent back to his counting house, must be as hard on them as we have been on their predecessors, for reasons both identical and, paradoxically, completely different.

That's for later, though. For now, it's time to enjoy the thought of President Barack Hussein Obama, to plan road trips to DC for the inauguration, and perhaps to mend a few fences. It's going to be a good four years -- hard, but good. We've worked hard enough to win the rights to occupy the house. Time now for the hard work of reconstruction and renovation.

Let's get started.

Canvassing adventures

I've been out canvassing for the Obama campaign for the last two days. A couple of hundred doors in all, maybe a little more. Some random observations:

• Most of my doors have been in three neighborhoods: Logan, a predominantly minority neighborhood in south Concord, off Poplar Tent near Frye's bowling lanes, and the Lenmore neighborhood off Corban street on the other side of 73 from Concord. Also, one apartment block and a couple of houses off Winecoff School Road. Logan is lower income, Poplar Tent is lower and lower-middle class, Lenmore is lower-middle class with some flat middle-class homes and a smattering of upper-class, and the apartments I've hit are basically all middle-class.
• The minority communities have been very welcoming, on the whole. I've had a number of very friendly conversations, and really felt like I've been helping people. Bear in mind that although I'm canvassing for Obama, my primary concern personally is that people get out and vote. I think that comes through. I never judge anyone who says they've voted for McCain. My take away from my interactions with nonwhites has been overwhelmingly positive.
  
• The only hostile reactions I've received have been from lower-middle-class whites. Cussed twice, and threatened by one who wanted to set his shepherd on me. Cracker-ass cracker. People like him are one of the reasons I sincerely hope Obama wins. Just to rub his nose in it. In both of the hostile instances, the response came not from the person named on my canvass list, but from someone who I took to be a parent. Dear parents: With attitudes like that, I hope your kids rebel and do something you consider stupid. Like voting for Barack.
• A few words of advice, should you be accosted by a canvasser. Be nice. These folks are volunteers, and most of us are perfectly nice, normal people. Civility is the order of the day on both sides. Don't be an asshole.

Back to it tomorrow, both for Obama and Kissell.

On choosing sides

My heart is moved by all I cannot save;
so much has been destroyed
I have to cast my lot with those
who, age after age,
perversely, with no extraordinary
power, reconstitute the world.

- Adrienne Rich

So at long last, this is what we've come to.

I'd really hoped -- against hope, surely -- that this wouldn't happen, but happen it has.

First, let me point out that Obama isn't black. He's half-black. He could as easily describe himself as half-white. Just an interesting consideration.

Now go read this.

This is what you can expect to happen when you stir the American cesspool. The first shiny turds to float to the top are always the racists. Hollering "nigger" and telling a black man to "Sit down, boy!"? Shouting "Kill him!"? What's next...are they going to lynch Obama in effigy?

This is where Palin, and by convention McCain, has taken us. Into the slimy sewer of American politics, where the dregs of the 20th century still linger, stewing in their own bile over the fact that blacks are now treated as equals, over the fact that they can no longer publicly call them "nigger" and "boy." It's disgusting enough that these troglodytes still exist, more so that I have to share my air with them, and finally that people like Sarah Palin would stoop to rousing them from under their rocks as a political tactic.

Shame on Sarah Palin. And shame on John McCain for letting her go this route -- in fact, for picking her at all (which was, of course, another plainly political tactic, but that's another discussion). I'd like to think Americans in the main are bright enough to repudiate this kind of race-baiting, but I've heard too many interviews with people who profess to like Obama, then when asked why they aren't voting for him, can't or won't provide a reason. Which makes their reasoning pretty plain, as often as not. Shame on them too -- they'll be the downfall of America, in the end.

Well, I haven't been around forever, have I?

Color me busy. Flower beds, soccer practice, home improvements, redoing home improvements becausing the damned foundation settled again. Plus politics...this time of year I kind of get sucked in.

And I'm only back momentarily to say this: With respect to the bailout, I don't think I've ever been so conflicted about an act of Congress. On the one hand, I think it sucks to preserve institutions run by freakish greedheads who got rich at our expense, gamed the system, and lost. On the other hand, the damage is done. Those bastards have their money, and if something -- anything -- isn't done, it'll be you, me, and those beneath us who suffer. Nothing we can do -- short of prosecution, and the sad fact is they didn't do anything illegal, for the most part -- will bring that money back out of their wallets. All we can do now is pray that we avoid a depression.

Then we go back, figure out what happened, and fix it. And as little as the parties involved are going to like this, it must needs involve assigning blame. Because I want to know who to trust, and who not to trust, going forward.

And no, "don't trust anyone" is not an option -- it's a recipe for anarchy.

Testing ping.fm

Today's post starts off questionable

I’m honestly not sure today's list ever rises above that.

• Saddam A Go-Go - GWAR
• SexyBack (Armand's Mix) - Justin Timberlake
• Mr. Brightside - The Killers
• Rollin’ - Limp Bizkit
• Move Bitch - Ludacris
• Music - Madonna
• Ray Of Light - Madonna
• Which MC Was That? - MC Frontalot
• Livin’ At The Corner Of Dude & Catastrophe - MC Frontalot ft. Brad Sucks
• 2x4 - Metallica
• King Nothing - Metallica
• We Are All Made Of Stars - Moby
• This Is How We Do It - Montell Jordan
• Rock Star (Jason Nevins Remix) - N.E.R.D.
• Ride Wit’ Me - Nelly
• I Like The Way You Move - Outkast
• Solsbury Hill - Peter Gabriel
• Start Me Up - The Rolling Stones
• Run Runaway - Slade
  

Onward!

Heavy on the electronica and dance today.

• Born Too Slow - The Crystal Method
• Name Of The Game - The Crystal Method
• Insane In The Brain - Cypress Hill
• Fighting Man - DJ Pone & Drixxxe
• What Would Brian Boitano Do? - Southpark
• Heather Graham - Da Vinci’s Notebook
• Groove Is In The Heart - Deee-Lite
• Jumpin’ Jumpin’ - Destiny’s Child
• Whip It - Devo
• Salio El Sol - Don Omar
• Salio El Sol (EduK Baile Funk Remix) - Don Omar & Machete
• Seinfeld - Electronic Symphony Orchestra
• Rubberneckin’ (Paul Oakenfold Mix) - Elvis Presley
• The Real Slim Shady - Eminem
• Lose Yourself - Eminem
• Weapon Of Choice - Fatboy Slim
• London Bridge - Fergie
• Take Me Out - Franz Ferdinand
• We Got The Beat - The Go-Go’s
• Minority - Green Day

So much for another day. I’m working on some longer form, more interesting stuff. As far as you know.

In which you learn yet more about my musical tastes

Next 20, without comment:

• Brown Derby Jump - Cherry Poppin’ Daddies
• Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing - Chris Isaak
• Lady Marmalade - Christina Aguilera, Pink, Li’l Kim, Mya
• Sci-Fi Wasabi - Cibo Matto
• Know Your Chicken - Cibo Matto
• Rock The Casbah - The Clash
• Devil In Jersey City - Coheed & Cambria
• Where The River Flows - Collective Soul
• Heavy - Collective Soul
• Try - The Connells
• Home Today - The Connells
• Fantastic Voyage - Coolio
• Hanginaround - Counting Crows
• Low - Cracker
• Get Off This - Cracker & Leftover Salmon
• Afternoons and Coffeespoons - Crash Test Dummies
• Crossroads - Cream
• Proud Mary - Creedence Clearwater Revival
• Travelin’ Band - Creedence Clearwater Revival
• Southern Cross - Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

Not bad.

Into the homestretch

I haven't update my rotation in a couple of days, so I'm almost caught up with the entire current list. I apologize in advance for the name of the Butter track. Blame Miho Hatorie and Yuka Honda -- yeah, the same two women behind Cibo Matto (who also appear in the playlist). Actually, I think one or both of them have some involvement in Gorillaz as well. In any event, I like the sound and I find the name of the track amusing, if offensive.

• Corncob Pipe - BTK
• Machinehead - Bush
• Butterfucker - Butter 08
• Pepper - Butthole Surfers
• Jerk It Out - The Caesars
• Short Skirt, Long Jacket - Cake
• Rock ‘n’ Roll Lifestyle - Cake
• Carbon Monoxide - Cake
• Sheep Go To Heaven - Cake
• Word Up! - Cameo
• Don't You - Candlebox
• Cool Jerk - The Capitols
• Life Less Ordinary - Carbon Leaf
• Carnival - The Cardigans
• Bees - Caribou
• She’s a Bad Mama Jama - Carl Carlton
• Let’s Go - The Cars
• Shake It Up - The Cars
• Parisien du Nord - Cheb Mami
• Smells Like Compton (NWA v. Nirvana) - Cheeky Boy

Heheh. If you haven't heard Smells Like Compton, look it up. Or ask me to mux it sometime.

More music

Another twenty, with more Blues Traveler and several tracks from the awesome string quartet Bond. If you've never heard them, you should.

• Carolina Blues - Blues Traveler
• Theme from Skidoo - Bobby Hughes Experience
• Sahara 72 - Bobby Hughes Experience
• Hey Coach, Don't Call Me A Queer - The Bobs
• It's My Life - Bon Jovi
• You Give Love A Bad Name - Bon Jovi
• Dalalai - Bond
• Alexander the Great - Bond
• Fuego - Bond
• Gypsy Rhapsody - Bond
• Rock Steady - Bonnie Raitt
• Summer of ‘69 - Bowling for Soup
• The Bitch Song - Bowling for Soup
• T-Bone Shuffle - Boz Scaggs
• Dirtbag - Brad Sucks
• The Dirty Boogie - The Brian Setzer Orchestra
• Good Vibrations - Brian Wilson
• Yeah Toxic (Blades Blend Remix ft. Usher & Ludacris) - Britney Spears
• Born in the USA - Bruce Springsteen
• Murder Incorporated - Bruce Springsteen

Why is it that every one of these lists seems to include one really embarrassing track? It's not as if guilty pleasures are some kind of virtue. Ah, well. Until tomorrow.

Because this is the only thing I have enough energy to post

I'm writing these in advance, to the extent that this can be considered writing. Kicking it right in today with Ben Kweller, and running out through some Blues Traveler, with a brief stop at Blackalicious (elevated momentarily to They Might Be Giants territory with this uber-geek track).

• Ann Disaster - Ben Kweller
• A Southern Thang - Better Than Ezra
• Good - Better Than Ezra
• Laid - Better Than Ezra
• Conjunction Junction - Better Than Ezra
• Rollin’ - Big & Rich
• Mister Pinstripe Suit - Big Bad Voodoo Daddy
• The Entertainer - Billy Joel
• Only The Good Die Young - Billy Joel
• You’re Only Human (Second Wind) - Billy Joel
• Jealous Again - The Black Crowes
• Pump It - The Black Eyed Peas
• War Pigs - Black Sabbath
• Chemical Calisthenics - Blackalicious
• Home - Blessid Union of Souls (no, I did not misspell “blessid”)
• 2x4 - Blind Melon
• What’s My Age Again - Blink-182
• The Bad Touch - Bloodhound Gang
• Don’t Fear The Reaper - Blue Öyster Cult
• Crash Burn - Blues Traveler

An ongoing saga of epic proportions

I keep adding to my work playlist. Today's segment picks up a little indie edge from Ben Kweller, with a sprinkling of 80s and cheesy pop.

• S.P.A.T. - Badly Drawn Boy
• Swarm - Badmarsh & Shri
• Who Let The Dogs Out - Baha Men
• Surf Beat - Balboas
• Teri Akhiyan - Bally Sagoo
• Venus (Extended Mix) - Bananarama
• The Old Apartment - Barenaked Ladies
• Get In Line - Barenaked Ladies
• Grade 9 - Barenaked Ladies
• One Week - Barenaked Ladies
• So What’cha Want - The Beastie Boys
• Intergalactic - The Beastie Boys
• Ch-Check It Out - The Beastie Boys
• Brass Monkey - The Beastie Boys
• Ghettochip Malfunction (Hell Yes Remix) - Beck
• Girl - Beck
• The New Pollution - Beck
• Poison - Bell Biv Devoe
• Rocking the Suburbs - Ben Folds
• For Those of Y’all Who Wear Fanny Packs - Ben Folds Five

Ooops...I was wrong. Ben Kweller is at #21. So he'll be in line tomorrow. If you're interested, I'm muxing some of these tracks over at muxtape.

Group the third

Starting with alpha by artist, since that's how I'm creating the list. I'm already wincing at the first entry.

• Voulez-vouz - A*Teens
• TNT - AC/DC
• Phone Call #27 - Admiral Twin
• Rag Doll - Aerosmith
• Train Kept A Rollin’ - Aerosmith
• Red Tape - Agent Provocateur
• Paradise - Alcazar
• Transmetropolis - Alcazar
• Ritmo Del Amore - Alcazar
• Smooth Criminal - Alien Ant Farm
• Southbound - The Allman Brothers
• Ijii Mongol - Altan Urag
• Khukh Tolboton - Altan Urag
• Jumpin’ Jack Flash - Ananda Shankar
• Party Hard - Andrew W.K.
• Pango Pango - The Atomic Fireballs
• Show Me How To Live - Audioslave
• Turn Up The Radio - Autograph
• Pick Up The Pieces - Average White Band
• Private Idaho - The B-52’s

If anyone’s interested in hearing any of this stuff let me know, and I’ll throw a muxtape together.

The Next 20

Let's see if today's selection turns out different from yesterday's in any measure:

• Don't Stop 'til You Get Enough - Michael Jackson
• Eat the Rich - Aerosmith
• Even Better Than the Real Thing - U2
• Evenflow - Pearl Jam
• Everything To Everyone - Everclear
• Eye of the Tiger - Survivor
• Fascinating Rhythm (Openair Remix) - Bhangra Nights
• Feel Good Inc. - Gorillaz
• Feuer frei - Rammstein
• Geek Stink Breath - Green Day
• Get Low - Li'l Jon and the Eastside Boys
• Get the Party Started - Pink
• Gonna Make You Sweat - C+C Music Factory
• Gorgonzola - Addison Groove Project
• Groove In Green - Addison Groove Project
• Harder To Breathe - Maroon 5
• Head Sprung ft. Timbaland - LL Cool J
• Hollaback Girl - Gwen Stefani
• I Alone - Live

Nope, nothing different, really. A couple of things I wouldn't play with my parents around, even though I'm nearly 40, but that's been the case for most of 30 years. :)

Music notes

Ah ha ha.

Right.

So anyway, I've started culling my iTunes library for my "current mix" again. That sounds like fun, and it is, but it's also a big job, since the library currently sits one shy of 40K tracks. For my amusement, if not for yours, I thought I'd start listing out my current at work/workout playlist. One option that won't be listed, but which is a must-have for anyone who exercises, in DJ Steveboy's Podrunner or Podrunner Intervals podcasts. I subscribe to both, and you should as well.

So for grins, the first 20 items in the current regular rotation. Bear in mind that this list runs to high-energy stuff, so there's a fair dose of otherwise-not-very-listenable dance music, heavy crunch guitar and similar. That should probably cue you to the fact that there are cringeworthy items in the playlist...you've been warned.

• AM Radio - Everclear
• American Idiot - Green Day
• American Jesus - Bad Religion
• Anatomic - Afro Celt Sound System
• Around the World - Daft Punk
• Back in Black - AC/DC
• Bawitdaba - Kid Rock
• Biff Bang Pow - Southern Culture on the Skids
• Blue Turban - Arabic Breakbeats
• Brain Stew - Green Day
• Bullet the Blue Sky - U2
• Cherub Rock (Unedited) - Smashing Pumpkins
• Cocaine (Lit Up) - Buckcherry
• Comfort Eagle - Cake
• Cowboy - Kid Rock
• Culo Remix ft. Sean Paul & Li'l John - Pitbull
• Cumbersome - Seven Mary Three
• Dhol Dogs - Afro Celt Sound System
• Discotheque - U2
• Don't Phunk with My Heart - Black-Eyed Peas

I think I'm surprised that Kid Rock managed to show up twice in that first 20. Hopefully, the presence of ACSS, U2, Daft Punk and SCOTS is enough to overwhelm him.

RIP: George Carlin

Long my very favorite comedian (I mean, for something like 25 years) and someone I took as an example to be followed for his outspoken frankness, if not for his personal habits. Go carefully, George. You will be missed.

With this luck, the trip to the hereafter is an airplane, and he'll be asked to preboard by getting on the plane. For George, Hell would be an eternity of bad grammar and mangled syntax.

First attempts with Creature Creator

I arrived home last night to the joy of a FedEx envelope on my doorstep. This thin, white bundle of joy contained one (1) installer for Spore Creature Creator for Macintosh. Installation proceeded (prosod?) apace.

The installer is Mac-typical, and presented no problems. The install was actually surprisingly fast. The program launched rapidly, and took over the screen. To my surprise, Command-Tabbing works! For instance, I wanted to try and recreate a Unioc from Howard Tayler's Schlock Mercenary strip, but I needed a reference. So a searched for "Ebbirnoth," (the primary Unioc character in the strip), pulled up a couple of images to go by, then launched Creature Creator. Since the game allows me to tab out to other apps, I could page back and forth between CC and Camino to check the quality of my work (which is debatable, but I'm new at it).

The Creature Creator's controls are pretty simple. Deceptively so, in fact. For Mac folks, make sure you're using a two-button mouse with a scroll wheel/ball, or you'll miss out on a lot of the fine control. More on this later. For now, here are the Unioc and the snufflehunter.

Spore Creature Creator: Momentary Nonstart

I was thrilled last week at WWDC -- not by anything at WWDC (well, maybe some of that, but I'm not allowed to talk about it). Rather, I was elated to get, by way of Ken Denmead at Wired, an invitation to the early preview of Spore's Creature Creator. I immediately downloaded and installed in using my Parallels VM on the MacBook, and was shortly thereafter crestfallen.

It won't run in the VM.

Insufficient graphics card is the diagnosis, and while that's not really surprising, it's a little disappointing. Oh well. EA's people were quick to respond to my request for a Mac installer disc, and sent me an installation code right away. So in a day or so, I should be up and evolving. As it were.

So, EA gets points for fast response. And the thing about it not running in a VM is really kind of neutral, since I don't regard a VM as a good gaming environment to start with. What's missing in this whole equation, though, is a version of the EA download/distribution manager for Mac OS X. If that piece was in place, I'd be busy creating even now, instead of watching the mail for my installer. Beyond that, it speaks to a lack of respect for the Mac market.

Still and all, I'm excited to be a part of the preview, even though I have to wait. Stay tuned, and we'll see what develops.

A little lagniappe for Pops!

Don't send a lame Father's Day eCard.
Try JibJab Sendables!

Seat 10F

My very favorite cabin seat on the A319.

Midday at WWDC

Two wings and very little prayer

A sweet bit of serendipity this morning. Forgot something in the house on my way down the drive, came back, and found this little dude on the door handle. He barely held still long enough for a picture, contrary to mantis’ general rep as very relaxed and nearly immobile. He really dug my TZ3, and kept trying to get atop it, which, since the camera can’t take pictures of itself, made photographing him a challenge.

I left him on a tomato plant, with an admonishment to earn his keep.

After that, off to E’s school for “Parent’s Fun Day.” For me, though I enjoyed being with E, it was more like “Parent’s listen to a dozen kids screaming at the top of their lungs” day. To boot, it was the first day of pool use, and as usual, E has forgotten all about going underwater, is afraid of anything over her navel, etc. So swimming, which is usually a blast, was not fun. I survived. L survived. E survived. That’s about the best we could ask for today.

Got to work at lunch time, to be greeted with news that our office renovations are finished. Which left my office looking like this:



Rugged, dirt-hiding, nicely-shaded but above all clean carpet? Check. (The previous carpet was rarely even vacuumed, let alone cleaned.) Gently-colored walls? Check. Old nail and fastener holes covered? Check. New furniture? Check. (Well, new to me, anyway.) Old monster hutch gone? Check. Blinds back? Not yet. But okay.

So it looks nice. But all my stuff remained to be moved back. Three hours later, it looked more like this:



Directly to the left, hidden from view, is a cabinet with all my tools, gear and files in it. I only had three boxes of stuff. Half a box of that went home with me, and another half a box I'm parceling out to Goodwill. Most of the rest of my gear is in clear plastic shoeboxes. Six months ago, fed up with all the crap in my office, I spent two days cleaning, reducing and reorganizing. It paid off...my coworkers are all barely even started on their move-back. I'm done and working. Kind of nice, really. I've pared my office down to a minimum. Having the new test/bench room really helps.

On the home front, dog-sitter (thanks, Pop) and house/cat-sitters lined up. Major construction projects are mostly tied up and buttoned down. Lawn’s cut. My gear and clothes are together. Mom arrives tomorrow after noon (I should be off work early). We’ll deliver J to his temporary residence, hit the sack early, and head out to the airport Friday AM.

Which is cool. But. I’ve now been preparing for travel, traveling, recuperating from travel (work-wise), moving, reorganizing, thrown out of my office, moved back into my office, etc. for nearly three weeks. It drives me bonkers. My routine is totally disconnected, I’m unanchored from the waypoints I use to mark my days, and I feel completely discombobulated. This will only be compounded by spending the week in a way where the day of the week is largely irrelevant, where I spend most of the day in windowless conference room, and where my only contact with home is iChat. I love travel, but hate traveling. A paradox, I understand, but there it is. Still, one more week, then summer settles in.

Just remember to pack the GPS for caching and navigation, so I'm off.

Bedded down

Finished!

The side yard bed and corner bed in the front are complete. Last night I installed a well for the crawlspace vent, smoothed out the soil, laid down 150' of soaker hose and attached a quad bibb to the spigot, and put weedblocker fabric down over the whole thing. It watered all night, and I’ll water it nightly until we plant. Hopefully, it’ll settle enough to allow me to till in an inch or so of composted horse manure, but that’s not a requirement.

That first pic is the side bed from the upper end. Down at the bottom, you can see the air handler that I'm going to try and hide. Probably with honeysuckle. From the lower view, you can see how the beds step down about seven inches every 10'.

The front bed wraps around the new crawlspace door. Throughout, I removed about 8" of soil, then replaced that plus the 7" depth of the rail tie with black loam topsoil. I should be able to grow anything.

Packing has started for the trip to what E calls “‘cisco.” Departure is imminent. I’m not looking forward to the flight, frankly, but I am looking forward to visiting the city again. Mom’s coming along this year to see the Left Coast, so it should be pretty awesome.

Ah, well. Back to work.

Glad to know we have a choice...

In related news, my mandarin orange can announces that I will receive “whole segments.” Which sounds like a topological impossibility to me.

Buy now!

In the men’s at a local Wal-Mart is this simple stainless-steel vending machine selling ... well, truthfully, I don't know what’s selling, but it’s only a buck. What the hell? How can you pass up a bargain like that?

This week’s (unexpected) project

Meet the week’s project.

This was a purely unexpected one. Just before leaving for the beach, I was closing the shed doors and noticed that one of the trims boards on the front looked odd. I poked it with a tool and, lo, it was punky. Rotten as hell.

So I ripped it off, figuring to replace it when I got back. I started after we arrived, and promptly found that the entire framing setup and all the trim was absolutely full of carpenter ants. Ripped it all off, and built new doors.

While I was at it, I figured it was time to replace the steps I'd ripped off a while back, so I built new ones. And you know what? The cost of lumber has gone up along with everything else. The steps and doors, plus another two-tread set of steps for the barn, cost nearly $300! Just incredible.

But it's a better setup than before. The steps, previously a wimply 3' wide, are now a generous 6'. The doors are simpler and cleaner, made of paneling and 100% pressure-treated trim members. The hardware is all galvanized or powder-finished, the door fastens top and bottom to keep vermin out, it has internal stops for better weather resistance, a functional hasp and pin, and larger hook eyes on the lower portion for easy fastening. All minor stuff, but it adds up to a real improvement.

Just..expensive for what it is.

Last night's dinner

Last night’s supper. A quickie batch of Annie’s shells and cheese, a little broccoli sauteed with soy sauce, and thumb-sized shrimp cooked with a little olive oil. Deeee-lish!

This is not something I'd advertise

I’m just sayin’ is all.

High School Diplomas!

I’m inclined to believe -- and this is just my opinion, of course -- that anyone dumb enough to call a number spray-painted on a foam-core sign advertising “School at Home” and “HIGH SCHOOL DIPLOMAS” probably couldn’t get such an item by any of the other, more...normal means.

Your tax dollars at work!

Do the Kannapolis Police understand that when taxpayers complain about the inefficiency of government service, this is precisely the sort of thing they mean?

I was picking up groceries on the way home recently when I was treated to this...four squad cars (including an unmarked, and five city-paid police officers, responding to a...parking lot fender-bender. Do what?

No, really...two officers, I can understand. More than that, and you're into “more supervisors than workers” territory. Good to see the K-town fuzz taking care of business and keeping everyone safe.

Miss E and the Angry Inchworm

Found whilst helping me dig a flower bed.

Door update

Ta-da! Finished. Landing bar and barrel bolts installed. Just needs caulk and the well. Actually, it’s done already, I just haven’t taken pictures yet. Fear not, valiant reader! I will dampen your spirits with more displays of meatball carpentry in short order!

Update: Forgot I had a picture of it stained. A lovely Amsterdam blue. Pity it covers that neat grain pattern.

Great googly-moogly!

Snapped this at driving by a new “senior village” (trans. - “old folks’ home”). Fifteen flags. Reckon they figure they have a pretty sharp bead on their audience?

Bruce "Utah" Duncan Phillips (15 May 1935 - 23 May 2008), R.I.P.

I missed the news last week while I was away, but Utah Phillips is dead. From a letter written to friends shortly before his death:

“I spent a long time finding my way—couches, floors, big towns, small towns, marginal pay (folk wages). But I found that people seemed to like what I was doing. The folk music family took me in, carried me along, and taught me the value of song far beyond making a living. It taught me that I don't need wealth, I don't need power, and I don't need fame. What I need is friends, and that's what I found— everywhere—and not just among those on the stage, but among those in front of the stage as well. . . . The future? I don't know. But I have songs in a folder I've never paid attention to, and songs inside me waiting for me to bring them out. Through all of it, up and down, it's the song. It's always been the song.”

Go carefully, Utah. You lived well, may you have so much in the next life.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders Fields
Lt Col John McCrae, MD

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Success!

Crawlspace door complete, well in place, pavers laid. All that remains is to touch up some paint and put the Sweep & Lock in place (can't be done on wet brick, and it's been raining).

Ridin' for Jesus

Used the iPhone to snap a quickie of homeboy here at a yard sale a couple of weeks back. Where to begin? How about at the bottom...dig that snazzy belt. Stylin'!

Then there's the shirt. This dude and his spousal unit* are the first living, breathing members of the Cowboy Church Network I've ever come across. This means that they may, in fact, be dressed in their Sunday best. Even though it was Saturday.

The shades don't bear a mention. Every dork in creation** owns a pair of wraparound shades now. I'm somewhat shocked to realize that I was around as they came into style.

But that hair. Oh, that incredible hair. So short and receding in the front, so cropped and clean over the ears, so neatly blocked on the back. Right up until you hit the thumb-size hank of rattail that hasn't been in vogue for any male older than seven since I was in junior high.

Seriously, man..what were you thinking? “Man, I really wanna grow me a mullet. A big ol' shaggy ape drape. But m'wife don't like 'em, and I ain't got so much up top any more. Looks like I'll have to fix me up a rat tail! Yee-haw!"

The goatee and one-day stubble contribute to the image of a hyperpituitary first grader. Lose the 'tail, my friend. Close your eyes, give the scissors to your wife, throw down a couple of shots if you need to, and resign yourself to your age cohort.

It happens to the best of us.

*Presumably churchy types -- even Cowboy Churchy types -- do not, unlike many bikers, refer to their womenfolk as “bitches.” They do, however, use the word “impacting” on their website in a way that's almost as offensive.

**Myself included.

A tree blows in Davidson

On the 10th, a line of storms blew through the area, dousing us with rain and -- in some cases -- hail. That was enough to knock much of the pollen off the trees, out of the air, and so on. On Monday, the wind came along behind scouring the air again, and giving the tree outside my office a blow-dry. If you click through for the large image, you can tell that the giant pecan behind the bank is leaning even further...the wind at 30ft off the ground was nearly constant.

Invigorate?

Dear BP:

Invigorate. Really? Invigorate?

Listen, marketing types -- I don't want my car invigorated. Nor do I want it revitalized, energized, vivified, roused, bucked-up or rejuvenated. Maybe I'm getting old. I understand this. But I'm sane enough at this point in my life to understand that I drive a 90bhp 90's-vintage diesel sedan, not a frakkin' sports coupe, okay?

I'll be satisfied if your fuel just allows me to get from point A to point B without any major engine damage. And without, thank you, any invigoration.

Here's what I ripped out of the crawlspace entry day before yesterday. Tasty, eh? Crappy paint, poorly secured, ill-fitting...all the best features of a quality construction job (and, to be fair, the excellent maintenance it's had over the years...not).

So I tore it out. Finally. Reworking the bed around it was the actual motivator that kicked the job over, but that's kind of immaterial. It needed doing. Once the hole was open, I discovered the reason the door frame wasn't flush with the brick -- the lazy-ass builder had failed to notch one of two joists deeply enough! The first (lateral) cut was deep enough, they just didn't carve out enough depth. Thirty seconds with a saber saw fixed it.

This time, the top member of the frame and the stops are anchored with a series of coated deck screws, while the verticals and the base are set with Liquid Nails, as I mentioned earlier. After a day's dry time, this sucker is rock solid.

As usual, I managed to misjudge my lumber needs just enough to be annoying. I picked up one too few 1x2 boards. Actually, I got enough for the one stop I'd originally planned to install, but when I decided to stop all four sides, that left me one short. But I digress. Come to think of it, this entire blog qualifies as a digression, more or less, so what's one more?

I cut the door from 3/4" sanded exterior plywood. I would have used pressure treated, but they were out. Since the plywood isn't actually in ground or masonry contact, and since my final step will be to stain the entire assembly, I think it'll be fine. If not, I'll replace the panel later, no sweat. I only had to trim it a little to get a good fit, and with the stops, it's far more weather/wind/critter-tight.

All the hardware is run-of-the-mill galvanized stuff for rust-proofing. The bar of 1x2 at the top of the door serves as both handle and “landing gear” -- the door will sit on it and stay level when opened, making it more comfortable to get in and out and easier to pick back up to close. When it's snugged into the frame and barrel-locked, it's surprisingly solid for what it is.

Tonight I'll finish setting the frame for the “well” surrounding the door, and hopefully get the sand and pavers in, as well as drop a bead of cedar-color caulk around it (the caulk is probably overkill, but there are flaws in the masonry in 2-3 places that result in some gaposis, and I want to make sure no baby snakes find their way in). That'll leave Thursday evening to put a coat of stain on everything, inside and out, and then it's ready to have topsoil dropped around it on Friday/Saturday.

Incidentally, I kind of apologize for all the minutiae on my home repairs. It's just what I'm doing at the moment. Work is a dry hole, since the semester is shutting down and I'm prepping for vacation. Emma's antics lately don't bear talking about (well, they might, but it wouldn't be pleasant), and I'm tired to death of politics. So this is what you get.

More Door

Ripped out the crawlspace door last night.

Found out it was only secured by four nails into the (notched) porch joists above. Nice. Had planned to use parasleeve anchors to fix the new frame in place, but opted for Liquid Nails instead, to avoid issues with splitting the brick.

Got the frame set it place, the door panel cut, and the stops screwed in. Tonight I'll put one last stop in, hinge and lock the door, and start building the well. The door, instead of swinging open, will drop down so it's automatically out of the way. Two galvanized barrel bolts will secure it, instead of the rusty rotating hasp-and-key bit that's in there now, and the well around it will be lined with pavers so it's easy to keep clean, and level.

Pictures this evening.

Happy Post-Mother's Day

Saturday was productive, marginally. I finished setting the railroad ties for the front north corner planting bed, and started digging it out. Actually, the soil in this bed isn't awful, just full of weeds, oak and sweetgum roots, and it's not sloped well. So out it came, and I raked the finished slope to the desired grade.

Errands in town were minimal, and were followed by Roscoe's birthday gathering at Bio-M-Bo's (which everyone regards as a strange name...we've resorted to simply calling it "bimbo's"). No live music, regrettably, but the adobado chicken was spicy, and the Negra Modelo was smooth, so that's okay. A stop by the Teeter for yellow carrots -- which we've discovered E consumes ravenously -- then home to bed.

I actually got L's Mother's Day present a few weeks back as part of a silent auction supporting a Charlotte teen theatre group. Yoga lessons. She's had one...if we can stop being sick, she can go back.

Sunday, eh...not so good. Finished the bed digging and headed to Lowe's for materials right before it poured a p all through town. At Lowe's, I'd planned on about $50 in materials to created a well for the crawlspace door, line it with pavers and build a new door. That turned into $175 for materials plus tomato and pepper starts, planting containers, and so on and so on. The rain started, and finished, while we were in the store. Missed it by that much, as they say.

Then off to Starbucks for Mother's Day desserts with Lynn and Steve. What's to say? It's Starbucks...which means it's passable, if not outstanding. Back at home, we hulled, washed and froze a gallon of fresh strawberries for winter consumption. Halfway through that exercise I had to stop and put up the dog and chickens, close up the house and warn the neighbors of a coming tornadic storm. Missed us by a couple of miles to the south, thank heaven, because it had golf-ball size hail (a fact the weather drones seemed to take great pleasure it repeating ad nausaeum). You could, however, hear the rushing wind over all that distance, which was a little creepy.

Oddly, this was the worst we got. Shrop, who lives about 2 miles northwest of us, got this. Strange weather.

The evening, and on into the morning, has been dominated by attempting to reformat and update an Inspiron 2200 for Bob. This has been an exercise.

I'd rather go dig clay.

Everything is Miscellaneous

After six months of dilatory attempts, I have (more or less) finished David Weinberger's Everything Is Miscellaneous: The Power of the New Digital Disorder.

I wish I could issue a firm pronouncement of my opinions of Weinberger's work, but I can't. So instead, some general observations.

First, Weinberger is in love with metadata, and with systems that mine metadata in an inherently organic, user-driven way. That's all well and good. The problem is that he doesn't seem to see any practical limit to the amount of metadata that's worth accumulating about a given object. I disagree with that perspective, because after a while, the pile of metadata becomes so dense that the marginal return of adding further descriptors is vanishingly small. Pile on enough metadata about an object, and you wind up recreating the object, for all intents.

Second, Weinberger is in love with technology. This should more or less follow from the first observation, because metadata rich organization is necessarily high-technology organization. It is not possible to practically maintain rich metadata sets on index cards. Weinberger's faith that high-technology systems are the savior of organization is touching, but has major flaws. For one thing, it is a hopelessly Western-centric, first-world-centric point of view. It's reliant on broad availability of cheap, high-speed, interconnected computing power that simply isn't a fact of life in the developing world. Weinbergers vision works for me, with my two laptops, iPhone and broadband-wireless-everywhere lifestyle. For Nanook and his sled team, not so much.

Further, for the world to organize (or disorganize) itself in Weinberger fashion, we have to assume bottomless supplies of cheap energy. Energy to build and maintain the technological systems that gather and mine metadata, primarily. I'm not convinced that an energy-rich society is a long-term possibility. If energy goes, or becomes prohibitively expensive, suddenly it becomes a lot less of a priority to have wireless access to a multi-billion record database, compared to, say, walking to the library for a book.

Finally, I think Weinberger is guilty of simply spreading a little technology frosting over old concepts and calling them new. In discussing "new learning," he talks about now in the new information age, recall of facts is a skill more suited to quiz shows than to education. I call philosophical bullshit on this argument from the start, but even if you accept it, it's not new. Instant recall of facts has rarely ever been as important as the ability to know where to find the relevant facts.

Our ability to find the required facts is certainly enhanced by our technology. But the fundamental need is not new or special.

I guess at the core of things, I'd say that Weinberger is a smart guy with a lot of good ideas, and some genuinely penetrating insights. That said, he's also guilty of believing his own bullshit, and that ends up turning what might have been an interesting book into an exercise in pro-technology cheerleading. For me, anyway. Your mileage, as they say, may vary.

"Gas Prices Stink"

That was the sum total statement of a 6" circle of vinyl plastered to the back of the vehicle in front of me this morning. The vehicle in question was a Chevy Silverado full-size pickup sporting a V-8 engine that gets, on average, about 15-16 MPG.

For the driver, I suppose the sticker was a statement of rock-bottom truth. I'm sure in his case, gas prices do stink. Nevertheless...

The truck was new. Spiffy-shiny new, I mean. Which means he bought it knowing full well what gas prices have been doing (there's no way the truck could be over a year old). From that, we can deduce that the driver is either (a) clinically insane, or (b) an idiot.

There's an interesting deduction to be made, as well, from the juxtaposition of his mini gas-rant with his other sticker -- "American And Proud Of It." Ah -- doubtless one of Dick Cheney's "The American way of life is not negotiable" crowd.

It figures.

Image annoyance

I really don't like the way ecto handles image uploads. I can't figure out how to stop it clipping the images when it thinks they're too big. Trying Mars Edit to see if it improves the situation.

Ecto does offer full rich-text editing, which Mars Edit doesn't seem too. That's kind of a bother, but possibly not enough to matter.

UPDATE: Hmm. That was...unsatisfactory.

UPDATE: Uploaded an image to Flickr from iPhoto. Inserting via Mars Edit's media manager.



UPDATE: Better, though I just discovered I can accomplish the same thing with ecto. I kind of think I like Mars Edit's interface better, tho.

Dig It, Redux

After some slow going while I was down sick, work on the bed has resumed apace. Digging completed Saturday AM.

Depth is pretty consistent across the bed, except at the extreme upper end, where there's a little downslope to help direct runoff. Or, perhaps, because the vein of undiggable clay ran closer to the surface there, eliciting an exasperated "Screw this noise!" when I tried to even out the depth. You decide which...or maybe both. The pile you see at the top right is five cubic yards of loamy topsoil, delivered that morning.

Spread out, it looks more like this:

I'll be moving the remainder of the fill in by trailersfull in order to avoid the landscaper's exorbitant delivery charges, but the basics are in place, and I've start setting the beds around the front to accompany these.

Next steps:

• Complete topsoil fill of side bed.



• Install stepping boards to control soil slope in side bed.



• Lay ties for front corner bed.



• Filet corner between side and front with steel/fiberglas edging.



• Remove hard clay top in side/corner beds and fill with topsoil.



• Plant!



• Edge beds with liriope and topsoil.

Spring Hill Nurseries and Park Seed are going to hear from me in the next week or so with orders for astilbes, hydrangeas, hostas and other shade-loving plants. By next spring, I should have actual landscaping.

To complete the exercise, once the plants are in place, I'll order batches of ladybugs, red wigglers, nightcrawlers and crickets. A week or so later, I'll half-bury some clay pots to make toad abodes. And at whatever point it's convenient, the liriope planting will soften the edges of those ties. I'll try to get close-ups, but the texturing on some of the ties, where years of trains pressed them into the ballast stone, is beautiful.

Illustrative

Surfing a popular news aggregator this afternoon, I noticed this succession of headlines. No wonder people are distracted to the point of near-imbecility. In the estimation of this aggregator (and by convention, therefore, in the estimation of its readers, these two facts are of more or less identical importance.

Congratulations, reddit. You are officially irrelevant (if you ever had any relevance to start with).

Dig it!

For the last several days, when I've not been busy being ill, I've been working alongside the house to install a large planting bed.

This is not the simple exercise it may sound.

The area is partly what used to be covered by the deck (under the new bay window). The entire area is about 9 feet by 30 feet, slopes a little ungently, has a pair of nasty crape myrtle trees growing in it, and contains our air handler as well. Yuck. Plus, the soil is basically hard clay. Down to about four inches, it might be amendable, with enough patience and compost. Below that, it's hardpan.

So the first step of the process is boxing out the bed with old railroad ties (which I love as borders. I had nearly enough left over from Emma's play yard to skirt the whole area.

Next, the serious digging begins. I'm removing enough soil (or "proto-sandstone") to leave with with roughly a foot of total depth to the top of the ties. (That crack in the tie above? Pulled shut with a 10-inch galvanized lag screw I had left over from something else...that was fun, let me tell you.)

Here you can see the basic outcome. Essentially, I'm building a huge flowerpot. I'll backfill this with good topsoil from the landscape center up the street. They're due to deliver five cubic yards on Wednesday. I'm hoping to have everything dug out so they can drop it right into the bed. In the meantime, I'm finding lots of interesting stuff -- old copper and iron gas pipe, a complete place-setting of flatware, old toy balls, assorted bits of siding trimmings, half bricks, and so on.

Oh, and a skink. Found him in the mulch one evening while Emma was playing nearby. Once I got him calmed down, he discovered that my hand was a welcome source of heat in the evening cool, so he stuck around.

At first, Emma was a little reticent about touching him.

That went away soon enough. To the skink's chagrin, doubtless. We let him go in an old oak stump nearby, and I dropped a left-over half cubic yard of topsoil into the bottom of the new bed.

Not bad.

Now I'm working on digging out the rest of it. The crape myrtle came out more easily than I'd anticipated. Biggest problem so far is the layer of gray hardpan about 10 inches below the surface. It's not diggable. It can be scraped off, flaked off, or chipped off, but digging out a good spade full of this stuff just isn't on the cards. Still, things are moving along.

I'm setting the ties as I move up the bed, pinning them into the clay with 18 inch section of 3/8" rebar. I'm also learning and filling a quarter-cubic-meter barrow full to the top with clay and trying to push it uphill is a losing battle. So I'm moving smaller loads at a time. Hopefully, I'll have this all done by next weekend. I'll post more pics then.

It's Amazing Levitating Jesus™!

Went to church a while back for my nephew Wyatt's christening. St. Thomas has a beautiful sanctuary, and part of the Easter decor involved a large collection of flowers in front of a plain wood cross. Affixed to the front center of the cross was a bracket, from the end of which dangled a Christ figure plainly designed to be hung on a flat wall. The net effect was an image of Jesus levitating over a field of blooms, powered presumably by the sheer uplift of pollen.

I wish I'd been sitting more to the front, so I could've captured the full effect. It humorous, if well-intentioned. Oh, and to the right, you can see the amazing Klingon Vigil Lamp. This this I seriously do not get.

For non-Catholics, the vigil light is kept burning next to the tabernacle when there's consecrated host inside. Which is pretty much always. Growing up, our vigil light was, if I remember right, a small candle. Fine.

This thing, though, is brushed steel in the shape of a U with terrifyingly pointy uprights. In the center of the U is a cherry-red lamp with an electric light inside. The full sense is, as I noted, very Klingon.

Weird.

Amazing Transforming Owl

No idea what species this is, but the reaction to "aggressor" owls is...wait for it...a hoot.

Man about the yard

The goings-on this weekend have been domestic. Visits to the grandparents' are cancelled as E fights off the remains of a virus. L and I slept late this morning, since E was kind enough to accommodate. Aside from a brief interval of rain, the weather has also been cooperative.

The grass is receiving its first haircut of the year, thanks to a delay engendered by a faulty trickle charger and a dead mower battery. Seventy-five dollars later, I have a new, more reliable charger and a new battery, along with a functional mower. The neighbors, I feel sure, are happy.

Also finally getting to work on a new bed where the old deck used to be. Pictures will be along shortly.

Convenience?

Uhhh...no. If it was "for my convenience," the changing station would be right here where I am now, not out the door and down the hall in another room. Another in an ongoing series of corpspeak complaints

why?

Dependent arising: "The understanding that any phenomenon ‘exists’ only because of the ‘existence’ of other phenomena in an incredibly complex web of cause and effect covering time past, time present and time future."

Elusive question. Why? In roughly eight years of keeping an online journal of some form, I've never been able to answer it. There are bits and bobs of an answer around -- to post funny stuff I find, to rant about things that infuriate me, to show pictures I like. In the end, I have a sneaking suspicion that it represents an attempt at self-definition. This, I am coming to realize, is an exercise in recursion.

I exist only because of others. I am defined by what I represent to others. Self-definition is a handy illusion, but it is an illusion. I can only hint and suggest. In the end, the picture is colored by others. In the end, all I can do is navigate the web, not create or destroy it. Everything I am, and everything I do, is intimately linked to everything, and everyone, else. A given link may be too small, too subtle, to pluck from the tangle, but it is there, nevertheless.

I half-suspect, when it's late, that I'm more a subject than I've previously acknowledge to the peculiar American mythos of the rugged individual. That's a false bravado on our part. He doesn't exist...never has.

Maybe what this is really about is a coming to terms with my rejection of that mythos, and my own attempts to acknowledge dependent arising.