Friday, May 30, 2008
Phew
In the grand scale of things this may seem a small one, but it has an effect far out of proportion to my peace of mind.Today is one of the few paydays this year when I haven't overdrafted my checking account.
Man, those fees add up fast. Not this time, though!
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
sigh
Burning 8 GB of data to a DVD takes a long, long time.Twice as long if it barfs the first time and you have to do it again.
*sigh*
This explains so much
I think every man can name the diagonal in the following graph after one specific girl from his past.Monday, May 26, 2008
"She's my Rushmore, Max."
Another Monday night, another revival from the Independent Film Revival folk. Tonight was the first entry in the "Directing Dysfunction" series - "Rushmore" (1998).I've only seen this one once before, several years ago, on cable, and I wasn't paying much attention at the time. To see it tonight with a motivated and appreciative crowd is a treat. Wes Anderson may be an acquired taste for some, but I will always enjoy the mannered and stylized dialogue, the exceptionally art-directed cinematography, and the soundtrack of 1970s folk songs. Bravo, Wes Anderson. Bravo.
Labels: movies
Old Jedis never die, they just fade away
Is it wrong to talk about movies instead of soldiers on Memorial Day? If so, I apologize in advance.My experience growing up, and continuing to this day, is that Memorial Day signals the start of the summer blockbuster movie season. It's not really summer to me without a big-budget sci-fi extravaganza in the theaters, a movie to wait in line to see, a movie with lots of hype and merchandising.
It was only when I got older when I realized how disrespectful that was.
My father served in both the Navy and the Coast Guard. He rarely talked about that service; he viewed it, I think, as just a means to get away from a rough situation at home, and a way for a poor kid from Jersey to get an education. He learned a trade, electricianisming, and got to see a little bit of the world, including atomic blasts in the South Pacific, and ended up on the West Coast to meet the woman who would be his wife for over 40 years, and he put all that military stuff behind him.
I remember him telling me, when I was a teenager, that military service wasn't necessarily the best route for me. I had a few friends who joined one or the other armed services; Troy, the guy who married Karen after high school, became an Army Scout. Charlie, a friend I met though playing Dungeons & Dragons, went into Naval Intelligence. Few of my other peers even thought military life was an option.
Am I over-generalizing? Maybe. I'm just now realizing just how much of pacifists my group was. I remember my Great Aunt Carmen complaining about how popular "Star Wars" was by saying, "all these kids are against war... and then they flock to see a war movie!" I was offended. Not by her generalization of peace-loving hippies, but by suggesting that "Star Wars" was comparable to "Force 10 From Navarone" or "The Big Red One". I was blind. I mean, I even overlooked the very word, war, was in the title. But it was a different kind of war, I thought. Underdog rebels against the super-powered weapons and billions of stormtroopers, sure, but victory came down to individuals. Luke and The Force putting that proton torpedo in exactly the right spot, while Han Solo caused Darth Vader to go spinning off into space.
And before that could happen, Obi-Wan had to lay down his life to let them all get away. Obi-Wan was the soldier whose death affected me first. A fictional warrior who didn't really die, not with The Force on his side.
Memorial Day weekend after Memorial Day weekend, year after year, summer wasn't actually here until I'd gone to see a summer blockbuster. 25 May 1977 - "Star Wars" was released. 25 May 1979 - "Alien" was released. 21 May 1980, duh! - "The Empire Strikes Back". "Raiders of the Lost Ark" in 1981, "Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan" in 1982, "Return of the Jedi" in 1983...
But the older I got, the more the reality of war impinged on my life. I came to know men and women who served in combat, notably during the First Gulf War. I slowly learned just why people were afraid of Vietnam Vets, and why Vietnam Vets were right to feel abandoned. My father felt more and more comfortable with his past service. I had my eyes opened by learning that members of my own family had had horrific war experiences long before I'd been born. And one of my closest friends and his wife is a veteran of military service.
And, of course, President George W. Bush lied us into occupation of a foreign country who posed no threat to us, leading to untold numbers of dead and wounded.
I know that the dead are not coming back; they're dead and gone forever. They won't float, transparent and suffused with a blue glow, to impart words of wisdom to the living, as Yoda and old Ben Kenobi did to Luke. They won't be resurrected by the powers of the Genesis Device, to live again, as did Mr. Spock.
I hope that they died doing what they thought was right, and knowing that there are people, many people, out there who feel humbled and honored by their service, by the risks that they take and the challenges they overcome.
Happy Memorial Day.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Lost in space
In May 1981, I was already a huge nerd for movies. Specifically movies from George Lucas and Steven Spielberg. Lucas had come to my attention due to his writing and directing a little popcorn flick called "Star Wars" (which, not so coincidentally, opened 31 years ago today), and had followed it up by writing and producing the much-darker and almost universally acknowledged superior "Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back"."Star Wars" was for me, like many men of my generation, a turning point. But I didn't get to see the movie until late in the summer, as I recall. It opened while I was still in school, sixth grade at North Oak Grove Elementary School. The following fall, I would be going to Oak Grove Junior High, so there was already a sense of change in the air for me; new school, new routine. But my friends all got to see this movie long before me. After Memorial Day weekend, they returned to the classroom and playground with tales of Jedi, and Sith Lords, and Millennium Falcons, and TIE Fighters, and Artoo and Threepio. I couldn't make heads or tails of what they were talking about, but it all sounded like the most fascinating thing in the world - even more fascinating to me than Julie Phillips, the brunette muse that had attracted my shy attention but whom I never actually spoke to.
When I would ask about going to see this movie, my dad would refuse outright. The movie was so popular that there were lines at the theaters. Lines! Can you imagine! "No way in hell am I going to stand in line for a fucking movie!" my dad declared. This nearly broke my heart. However, through my Science Fiction Book Club membership, I sent away for a copy of the novelization for the movie, and devoured it in a single sitting. I would tell my parents and sister all about how this was just one chapter in the Adventures of Luke Skywalker, and explain that the Old Republic was legendary, but how it had fallen to the predation of Palpatine, who declared himself Emperor. It was as much, if not more, nonsense to them as my friends' explanations had be to me. OK, maybe far more. Now I knew the story but I still ached to see the actual movie.
Then, after school had let out for summer, came word that "Star Wars" was playing at a tiny little theater in tiny little Estacada, about 25 miles south east along the Clackamas River. There were no lines there. There was also no Dolby Sound and no 70mm film print in all its widescreen glory, but I was 12. I had few options unless I was willing to compromise. Mom, Dad, my sister, myself, and my Grandma Hayner all drove out one summer afternoon, and for the first and last time in my life I sat in that theater and watched what had only been words on a page become real. Even on the smaller screen, even with "normal" sound, even surrounded by the dank smell of summer sweat and popcorn... "Star Wars" took me away. All other viewings of that movie don't compare to that one instance. And believe me, I have seen that movie many many times since then.
Spielberg had directed "Jaws" in 1975, which I have never seen to this day in its entirety but was a source of conversation to my grade-school buddies, and in 1977, "Close Encounters of the Third Kind". It was a much gentler alien invasion flick. The first time I saw CE3K, I and my nephew had to convince my dad to drive clear across town to the Eastgate theater, which he did, grumbling all the way, and taking back streets to avoid the horrible traffic of SE 82nd Ave. We arrived late, after the movie had already started, a huge source of annoyance to me at the time. I wouldn't argue with my dad, though; well, maybe a sarcastic remark in passing. Kevin and I had to sit near the back, and right in front of a speaker tower for the then-new Dolby sound system. If you remember the climactic chase at the end of the movie, that particular speaker was solely responsible for the sounds of the helicopters which chased Roy around Devil's Tower. Helicopters are loud.
So much so was I captured by the vision of Lucas' galaxy far, far away that it became the central obsession in my life, neatly supplanting Star Trek. So much so that when the sequel, "The Empire Strikes Back" came out in 1980, that I and my friends read the novelization, read the comic books, bought (and stole - I'm not proud of that now but I'm sure the statute of limitations is long since up by now) the action figures, listened to the soundtrack and "The Story of" LPs... everything. Everything. I was a sophomore at Milwaukie High School now. My mom drove me and Kevin out to the Westgate theater for opening night. And, yes, we stood in line. We were almost turned away, but when the theater employees came out to say there were three seats left, but not all together, we were ushered inside. I had to sit in the very front row, waaaaay off to one side, but it didn't matter. I knew that this would be one viewing out of many. And for the rest of the summer, when Terry and I had nothing else to do, we would take the long bus ride from Milwaukie to Beaverton to see "Empire".
Spielberg was also the director of the amusing but under-rated "1941", which made me and my high school budies, Terry, Andy, and Rodney, laugh at the time, but which I no longer remember many details of. I remember John Belushi in a WWII Airman's uniform, and a ferris wheel breaking free and rolling into the Pacific after being attacked by Japanese Zeroes. And that's about it. We liked it because it was from Spielberg.
So in the summer of 1981, I was now a junior in high school. I had more interest in girls but still lacked any sort of courage. I remember most of high school as hanging out with my buddies, playing Dungeons and Dragons, talking about "Star Wars", and an unending series of crushes on cute girls. I was smart enough that my classes posed no challenge to me - well, except for the obstacle of actually doing my classwork. I was distracted and often late in my work. Didn't they understand? There was a galaxy at war, people! Far more important matters were at hand. I fantasized about the Millennium Falcon landing on the high school football field and taking me away, and Han Solo reluctantly allowing me to pilot the ship, and being amazed at how well I flew for a kid.
And as summer approached that year, so did news of the first-ever collaboration between Lucas and Spielberg. It starred Han Solo - I mean, Harrison Ford. I had been burned before by learning early that Darth Vader was Luke's father, so this time around I avoided reading much about the movie. I knew it was a throwback to the pulp stories of the 1930s... and that's about it.
The movie opened on 12 June 1981, which I remember being the last Friday of the school year. I went by myself to the Southgate theater, a theater that has been not just closed, but completely eradicated from existence since those days. The building was a cinder-block warehouse, with two large theaters and two smaller ones. "Raiders" was playing in the largest theater, and for some reason I remember the crowd for that showing being rather small. There were empty seats. And as I watched and enjoyed the movie, I kept getting distracted by a couple sitting ahead of me.
It was Karen Hatton and her boyfriend, Trey.
Karen was my then-current crush. Snarky before snarky was a word, funny, imaginative, blonde-ish, thin. She was just as much into "Star Wars" as I was, which made her that much cooler. Oh, and she had gone out with my best friend, Terry Mantia, waaaaaay back in junior high, and they remained friends, so Karen was a part of my circle of friends. And so was Amy Dinkler, Karen's best friend. The four of us shared a few classes, including Drama class, and we would talk about all the important things in the world, like whether Princess Leia would choose Luke or Han (little did we know), and whether the Emperor could afford decent marksmanship training for stormtroopers, and if there was anything a lightsaber could not cut.
I crushed hard on Karen. I didn't notice Amy until senior year, when I discovered that she had been crushing on me for a year or more.
Sitting in the Southgate theater, my attention was split between the fantastic adventure on the screen and the practical drama in front of me. Trey and Karen were making out in the dark. After the movie, my head filled with images of giant rolling boulders and melting faces, my sights were filled with Karen and Trey holding hands and walking out into the parking lot and into his car. Trey, you see, was a senior. An older man.
The following week, we still had a few days of school left, but mentally everyone had checked out. The only reason we came back, I think, was to pick up our yearbooks and get them signed. As I wandered around the hallways with Terry, his gray fedora perched on his head, I alternated between telling him about "Raiders" and complaining about Karen. His advice was to stay away from Karen. "She's got issues."
Don't we all?
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Things I learned this week
I've shamelessly stolen the idea for this post from Jason Kottke. Gotta give credit where credit is due.- I learned a lot about the City of Portland Water System; for instance, ~100 million gallons of water enter the system at Bull Run every day, and around 3% of it is lost due to leaks.
- I learned what a Sloaney girl dresses in: dark skinny jeans, chunky jewelry and belts, and big hair, apparently.
- I learned that Portlanders celebrate Towel Day with drinking, live music and Vogon poetry, just as they should.
- I learned, again, that girls will give me their email address if only I ask them.
- I learned the French word for "reservation" appears to be "bramard"
Sadly, that's all I can think of right now. I'm certain I learned a lot more, but it's not coming to mind right now.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Upcoming Towel Day
This Sunday, 25 May, is Towel Day, a day of remembrance for Douglas Adams, a man of incredible empathy and height who is chiefly remembered as the author of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series.I found out today that there will be an event in Portland celebrating Towel Day with live music and Vogon poetry readings. I love live music and hate Vogon poetry (as does everyone else, including Vogons) and yet even so, I shall be there.
It starts around 8 PM at the Mt. Tabor Legacy.
Also, I think an ex-girlfriend's (possibly-ex-)boyfriend's band is playing there. Even that won't keep me from attending. I may have to consume large amounts of alcohol in order to be as obnoxious as possible towards the gentlebeing.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Little-known Fact
Indiana Jones was the reason I started wearing hats. My first girlfriend, Amy, gave me an Indy hat as a Christmas gift.And, yes, I very much enjoyed the latest installment. It's note-perfect.
Labels: movies
Modern thinking
Late lunch at the Limelight, a bonus because I was finally free of my jury duty.S., the waitress I had bantered with for what felt like forever, walked up, pad and paper in hand, sat down opposite me in the booth and took my order (Sante Fe Chicken sandwich, so spicy and delicious, and a salad).
She seemed sad or distant, and before standing up and taking my order back to the kitchen, she blurted out, "Today's my last day..." and trailed off.
"Oh! Wow, you'll be missed," I said. "Moving on? Another job?"
"Yeah, another job, movin' on."
"Good reason? Bad?" I felt like I wasn't picking up on her mood.
"No, it's a good reason. I'm going to work for a friend who has his own restaurant. He's been having trouble filling his day shifts so I'm going to help him out."
"Oh, that's good," I said.
"Yeah! And it'll be more money, and stuff..."
"And you'll be working with a friend."
"Right! It's just... I was OK with it, and now I'm starting to feel a little sad. I'm going to miss my friends and customers!"
I smiled. "That's cool. You will be missed. Hey! Do you have email?"
"Actually, I do!" She sounded surprised at herself. Or maybe surprised at me for asking. She tore a sheet off her pad and started writing her email address down. "I didn't for a long time, I didn't even have a computer, but a while ago someone asked me about it and I tried to sign in, and I realized I had forgotten what it was! I had to make a new one."
"Oh. Funny." She knew me as being the kind of guy glued to my iPhone when I was in alone. I poked my finger at the table to punctuate my point: "But... you do have indoor plumbing, don't you?"
Still hunched over her piece of paper, she laughed. "I do have indoor plumbing, yes." She laughed again, then handed me her email address.
I didn't know that
I really need to do a full-on write up of it, but before I dash downtown for more exciting jury duty I wanted to note that Kevin and I saw "OSS 117: Cairo, Nest of Spies" last night.The lead, Jean Dujardin's facial expressions and body language were note-perfect in capturing the camp of a 1960s spy movie. Kevin and I could not stop mimicking his serious look and winning smile for hours after the movie. I may end up making those same expressions today, which will surely confuse my fellow jurors.
Labels: movies
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Sho Don'tzono
Thank goodness Sho Dozono lost the mayor's race.After the ridiculously clueless way he ran his campaign, from start to finish, with so many stops of ridiculousness along the way I'm unable to link them all, I just couldn't have handled it if Portlanders thought he was the best candidate.
Buh-bye, Sho.
Empaneled
Might be quiet around here for a couple of days.After a subpoena, and a fierce round of voir dire, I've been empaneled. Gonna last at least until Thursday.
And now you know some legalese.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Good trip
As mentioned previously, tonight I attended a screening of Terry Gilliam's film version of Hunter S. Thompson's book "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas".Whole lotta hipsters there. I guess me, wearing my fedora and Chucks, fit right in.
The movie is just as drunken and elliptical as I remember it. It's as close as I ever hope to get to being actually stoned.
I'll stick to drunk, thanks very much. That's as out-of-control as I ever need to be.
Labels: movies
Indie rock hair
My favorite non-political blogger John Scalzi took the time to notice Sen. Obama's rock-star-like rally here in Stumptown:75,000 people at a single Obama rally in Oregon. Yes, they may be all pot-smoking hippies up there in Oregon, but honestly, even if they are, when was the last time 75,000 pot-smoking hippies managed to get it together enough to be in the same place at the same time? I’ll give you Bonnaroo, but after that it gets dodgy. Certainly anything without a scraggly-haired rock guitarist hasn’t rated this for a decade or two.I wasn't the first commenter over there to mention that local band gone big The Decemberists did open for Sen. Obama, but I believe I was the first to mention that Colin Meloy, their front man, has indie rock hair, which is very nearly scraggly.
Nice of Scalzi to notice! (That's not snark.)
As of my typing this, CNN Politics' top story shows a picture of Sen. Obama in front of the gianormous crowd in Portland, but buries the number of attendees in the sixth paragraph. Fascinating. Boo to CNN.
Formal more fun?
I'm standing in line at a local taco place. I see the punk rock girl behind the counter, ready to take my order.Punk Rock Girl: Mr. Mooooooooooooooooon!
Me: Heh. How are you?
PRG: I'm good, Mr. Moooooooooon!
Me: [embarassed] You know, I've forgotten your name...
PRG: It's Suzy.
Me: Hi, Suzy! By the way, my first name is Brian.
PRG: OK, Brian. But "Mr. Mooooooooooooooooooooon!" is so much more fun to say!
Sunday, May 18, 2008
I'm convinced
Via Ihnatko, this video showing a practical use for giant multi-touch displays:I'm sold.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Participating
This is the first election ever where I made liberal use of googling for candidates and issues.I knew where I stood on the major candidates, but this time, instead of ignoring (or, worse, guessing) about the smaller races and issues, I did some internet research and read up on all of the options on my ballot for which I did not already have strong opinions.
Made it mighty satisfying to be done. I like participating.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Energy crisis solved
At a typical US energy cost of ~$0.10/kiloWatt hour, an average cubic light-year of space generates $460,000,000 worth of power, according to a post by Phil Plait, Bad Astronomer.Thursday, May 15, 2008
Motivation
I read Athena's post while on the bus home and empathized with her immensely. I know how that feels.And then a beautiful woman sat down next to me.
I realized that the universe was telling me something, so I put away my iPhone and struck up a conversation.
Her name is Sam, and, yes, it's short for Samantha.
Thanks, Athena, and Universe. I listened this time.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Homeless Protest Continues
Here's why protests matter. Mayor Potter is obviously rattled by all the attention being focused on him for his continuing mishandling of this situation, and is making even more mistakes in response.Shame on Mayor Potter for stonewalling and not stepping up and serving the needs of ALL of the community. Mayor Potter used to have a blog, but but it hasn't been updated in a while. But I did find his contact page. Be sure and drop him a note to let him know what you think.
Leonard, too, apparently, since he stood by Potter in today's blatant disregard of the City Charter. That's too bad; Commissioner Leonard seems like a nice enough guy. Give him some feedback, too.
Anyone hear from Sho Dozono on this topic in the last week?
And I'd like to re-iterate the thanks to Amy and Matt and the Merc for the continuing coverage.
I'm biting my tongue and clicking "Publish" before I go off on a rant about the lack of response from the Christian community...
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Yes!
Now that my books are newly-organized, I have one shelf entirely for what used to be referred to as my "reading pile". Only now, they sit on a shelf, separated out from the others, each book purchased with the intent to read it, and yet, because of a lack of focus or the intervention of other shiny things, like running or booze or strippers or iPhones, the books remain unread, alas.That reminds me, I have another category of books that I forgot to mention: Unread.
So tonight, with my apartment completely clean and my laundry done and very little money remaining in my bank account until payday, I decided to pull out one of the unread books and read it.
I had many books from which to choose: a history of Portland, a couple of books on philosophy and consciousness, some light fiction, and many others.
The one I pulled out was recommended to me by Kevin, and is by Danny Wallce and it's entitled "Yes Man".
And now I'm logging off for a bit, to sit in my library, listen to some background music, and read.
G'night.
Not able to tape the meeting?
The Mercury is reporting that Mayor Potter's staff refused to allow the homeless protesters to record the meeting today.I thought I had the right, in Oregon, to record any conversation I was a party to? Of course, I'm not a lawyer, so...
...I guess I'll stop there.
Any actual lawyers want to chime in on the topic, though? Comment or let me know privately.
Independent Film Review series
Found this list via the Portland Mercury, and haven't found it anywhere else. There's more than a few films on this list that I'd like to see again on the big screen, and more than a few favorites.May 12: The Virgin Suicides- missed this one!- May 19: Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
- May 26: Rushmore
- June 2: Annie Hall
- June 9: The Squid and the Whale
- June 16: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
- June 23: Punch Drunk Love
- June 30: Secretary
- July 7: Foxy Brown
- July 14: In the Company of Men
- July 21: Storytelling
If anyone wants to join me next week for a little Hunter S. Thompson as told by Terry Gilliam via Johnny Depp and the less-geek-y del Toro (Benicio), just let me know. I'll probably show up drunk, y'know, to honor Thompson's memory.
It might be a very interesting experience to view "Secretary" with an audience, especially for someone mildly repressed like myself...
Straighten
My apartment has never been cleaner.Bathroom: ready for a surprise guest.
Living room: vacuumed and everything in its place.
Kitchen: dishes done, recycling put away. I even mopped the floor.
Bedroom: clean sheets, clothes folded and put away.
I even cleaned the windows!
Last room to do was my library. I had books in piles everywhere. Sunday I built one more bookshelf, then last night I sorted and alphabetized all my books into categories.
I have the following categories (from memory so I might miss one or two):
- Reference: dictionaries (yes, I have more than one), thesauruses, style guides, maps, etc.
- Computers
- Humor and Sports: This is just a few books but an important category.
- Textbooks: Just had a few and wanted to keep them separated out.
- Self-Help and Relationships: An area of special study over the course of my life.
- Science and Philosophy: I tried to separate these out but had a hard time distinguishing in some edge cases. F'rinstance, Daniel Dennett's books on consciousness and evolution: philosphy? Or science? A bit of both, I think.
- History: General non-fiction books on various topics, including my recent purchases of specifically political works, like Jerome Armstrong and Markos Moulitsas Zúniga's "Crashing the Gate" or Thomas Frank's "What's the Matter with Kansas?".
- Memoir and Biographies I've got four biographies of Philip K. Dick, and a few other memoirs and biographies. It's about a half-shelf worth.
- Religious Texts: The Koran, Bhagavad Gita, Bible, etc., and various books critiquing same.
- Fiction: Everything else.
First bookcase
Second bookcase
Third bookcase
Now I want to find a program, like Delicious Library, and catalog them all. And my CDs and DVDs and other movies, too.
Yeah, I'm an organizing buzzsaw lately. Heh.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Order out of less order
For the first time in a long time, all my books are sorted by topic and shelved.Sunday, May 11, 2008
Go!
"Speed Racer" feels like an entire TV season packed into a 2 hour and 15 minute movie.And not necessarily in a good way.
Visually amazing, though. Can't really follow what's happening a lot of the time, but still looks amazing.
Labels: movies
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Showing up
The bride looked very happy.The groom looked at me cautiously.
I felt awkward and out of place.
And then I left my ex-girlfriend's wedding reception.
Friday, May 09, 2008
Futurama becomes bizarre
This black-and-white, unfinished preview of the next Futurama DVD, the follow-up to "Bender's Big Score", looks... um... bizarre.Spoilers ahoy!
The tentacles reaching out of the anomaly and attaching to people, including Fry, creep me out.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Self-aware
A recurring theme last night, while hanging out with Kevin, was the question of how to behave in public. Specifically, how different would we behave if we were filthy rich.The evening began with a viewing (my second, Kevin's first) of "Iron Man", in which ultra-rich corporate executive and weapons dealer Tony Stark gets the awesomest toy ever, a red-and-gold suit of flying armor. He's also got a self-aware computerized butler called Jarvis, and holographic and touch-screen controls for said computer. Even his off-the-shelf toys are envy-producing: an Audi R8, a Bentley limo, various personal jets (I think I counted two different types but am not an aeronautics buff enough to identify them) complete with on board stripper-stewardesses and requisite pole, a Malibu mansion. And backed by the confidence that billions in assets can provide, his cocky manner becomes charm.
After the movie, Kevin and I went to dinner at Montage. The crowd there, even early, is largely made up of young and beautiful people, and I had serious eye contact with a breath-taking brunette who reminded me a bit of Alyssa Milano. But I could not get up and approach her, strike up a conversation. As I related a story from last week to my friend, which was about a similar situation of brief contact with an attractive and possibly interested Asian woman, Kevin berated me and (jokingly) threatened to strike me about the head and face for failing to follow-up.
His theory, which he himself is unable to put into practice without jeopardizing his marriage to the lovely M, is that one should discard all care and worry, and just act. He suggested that such an attitude was a perk of being über-rich. Merely pretending to be a billionaire would produce the same results. I digested his ideas as I devoured my green pesto mac and cheese and cornbread. This idea was not new to me, but still I seem unable to manage the leap that would let me attempt it on a regular basis. Is there some trick I could use to put myself in the right mental state?
It is perhaps a measure of my depressed mental state that when I think "act like you don't care" my first thought is not of the freedom that having an unlimited bucket of money, but instead the sense of looming inevitability that comes with knowing you'll be dead in six months. That's just the first place my mind takes me, lately.
We continued talking about this idea for the rest of the night, and when we reached Papa Haydn's for dessert, Kevin became a bit more show-y and assertive, and I followed his lead. A little bit. I still felt self-conscious and inwardly was a bit shocked at some of the things he said or did, but, honestly, afterward, what was the harm done? He said, out loud and where she could hear it, that the hostess was cute. He asked to be seated in the section where the cute waitress was serving. He joked about not tipping the waitress when she needed her pen back. All harmless and fun. Although perhaps socially transgressive and perhaps the staff and other customers were uncomfortable. Who knows? Maybe they were secretly enjoying it, maybe they were offended.
Either way they are not likely to forget it soon.
When I joked, "Would I look like this if I were rich?" Kevin stated, flatly, "No." I laughed and said, "Yeah, probably. I really like this t-shirt."
He said, "But you'd probably wear clothes that fit you better." Yes, probably so.
The most taboo thing I did was pick my fork up by its tines and tried to eat with the handle. And even then, I felt awkward and had to stop after just a few seconds.
But I laughed and had fun all evening. I think Kevin did, too.
At the end of the night, when Kevin drove home, and I sat and reflected on the night, I remembered having a lottery ticket in my pocket. A ticket I had not checked to see if it was a winner or not. Likely, not.
But wouldn't it make a great story if, all throughout the evening, I had had on my person, stuck away in my wallet, a piece of paper worth millions? It would be like the story of a callow farm boy who is, secretly, a prince, heir to a royal throne.
I still haven't checked the ticket. I might not for a while. Maybe it is the trick that will allow me to act with more freedom and less crippling forethought.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Drawing a comparison in order to show a similarity in some respect
A collection of amusing analogies from around the interwebz to describe Sen. Hillary Clinton and her campaign:- Johnny Highland: "the psycho ex-girlfriend of the democratic party" (via Wil Wheaton)
- John Cole: "This race is now no longer a race, but a hostage crisis."
- John Scalzi: "She's fallen and she can't get up."
- Some Random Person: "Hillary is 404."
- David Plouffle, Obama Campaign Manger gets the final word when he calls the Clinton campaign strategies wildly creative and entertaining... but not legitimate.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
I love you back!
I truly do!A decade of I
Ten years ago today Apple introduced the iMac (link to Apple's website of that day courtesy of the Wayback Machine).I was toiling away at Stream International on the Apple Customer Relations phone line when it was announced. I'd been at Stream for about 2 years, which made me practically an old-timer. Phone support is stressful, and Apple Customer Relations was considered to be the highest stress team; we were called (by the other teams and ourselves, with equal levels of pride and loathing) "The Scream Team". When I'd started, I assumed it was the customers doing the screaming, but found that wasn't always the case. Thankfully, most of the employee screaming was done after the phone call had ended.
Not always, but mostly.
At the time the iMac was introduced by Steve Jobs, several of my co-workers from Stream had made the move to Austin, TX, to actually work at Apple. They were doing much the same job but at a "Senior" level, though they were still contractors and not full-on, white-badged Apple employees. So I fired off an email or two to find out more, but there wasn't much more to give. Internally, Apple was just as secretive as they were (and still largely are) with their customers. So we had to wait for the information to filter down to us. We at Stream, supporting Apple products, felt like we needed to know this information; after all, we were being asked by customers about it, customers that largely assumed we were still operating out of Steve Job's garage. Why couldn't we just go down the hall and knock on Steve's door and get the straight poop, customers seemed to believe (but never actually said out loud, not that I can recall).
But me and my team existed on some twilight ground, not quite Apple, and yet seemingly given the full authority of "speaking for Apple".
By the time the iMac was actually released to be sold, I myself had made the move to Austin. That's a story for another time.
The gumdrop shape, the translucent blue plastic, the all-in-one-ness, the new-fangled USB interface... The iMac stood out, definitely. And there were always the reminders from our managers and the Apple liaisons, that Steve was banking the company on the success of the iMac.
Turns out to have been a good bet in hindsight. AAPL traded for $7.00 a share on 1 May 1998.
10 years later, it closed at $180.00 a share on 1 May 2008; there's been two stock splits in those 10 years.
So much for Michael Dell's (in)famous quote, when asked in 1997 what he'd do if he were running Apple: "What would I do… I'd shut it down and give the money back to the shareholders."
Moving forward
I am human. I fuck up. Sometimes big, sometimes small. We all do, it's part of life.When I make mistakes, I have learned that the kind of people I want around me are people who can see the circumstances with compassion and humor. But I also don't want them to let me off the hook; if I'm deep in denial, for example, I need friends who can correct my way, and for that they need to be able to tell me, in a way I understand and cannot deny, that I'm wrong. Not in anger or indignation, but with gentle but sharp humor.
And those kinds of people are rare.
When my own friends get into trouble, I hope to be that kind of friend.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Having fun?
After much thought, I have added a little "Donate" button to my left-sidebar. It's down there at the bottom, discreet, not too showy. See it?It's through PayPal, which not everyone likes, but who has become essentially the bank on the interwebs. And, truthfully, I'm not even 100% sure it works, since I'm unable to test it.
If I've made you laugh, or think, or angry, or otherwise entertained you, and you feel like showing some appreciation, click on the gold Donate button and send somethin' my way. If there are any problems or questions about it, just drop me a line.
Thanks just for reading. Also, I love you all.
Labels: meta
Rube Goldberg would be proud
All this work to advertise a paper-roll rack? Super genius.Don't miss the behind-the-scenes video, also.
Friday, May 02, 2008
Shellhead
Make sure you stay all the way to the end of "Iron Man".And knowing about the Marvel universe helps make the movie more enjoyable.
Labels: movies
Thursday, May 01, 2008
This isn't helping
On this, the National Day of Prayer, I give you stories. Like this one:Even as her 11-year-old daughter lay dying on a mattress on the floor of the family dining room on Easter Sunday, Leilani Neumann never wavered in her belief in the power of prayer.
I was going to quote more of it, but the story makes me despair for the future of humanity. These parents, because of their religious beliefs, took no action whatsoever as their little girl died a slow, and by all accounts, painful death. A death that was entirely preventable.
And, no, prayer isn't action, as P. Z. Myers points out (and from whom I got this story).
The Neumanns are going to be charged with second-degree reckless manslaughter, though I'm certain the courts will dance around the topic of the central role religion played in this senseless death.
I was going to go digging for more stories like this one but just this one has sapped my energy thinking of Leilani Neumann struggling to get up while her body shut down.
Enjoy your prayers today theists.
Not the same thing
In conversation with Kevin tonight he mentioned my directness in stating the atheist worldview, and compared it to the forcefullness with which a devout Christian would speak.We did not have time for a full debate - we were both just getting home and each had our own tasks to deal with - so I did not bring up my first thought. I'm going to make note of it here for future discussion.
Because the comment betrays a lack of understanding, I thing, and from anyone other than my good friend I would view the comparison as, well, insulting. I know Kevin means well, though, just as I know he would not be offended by my explaining why I see the motivation for a Christian or fellow theist's beliefs as far from the foundations from which I speak as could be possible.
There's so many ways in which they differ, but for the sake of a blog post I'll stick with just a couple.
First, and most obviously, a devout Christian would not change their mind on their faith, no matter what evidence they were presented with. I, on the other hand, would have to change my stance on any verifiable topic if new, contrary evidence became available. That's... that's kinda the whole point.
I speak forcefully because the evidence is behind me. That is what my statements are founded upon. Direct observation by myself and others, repeated and repeatable experiments, theories that make predictions that can be tested... But tempered with the humility to be able to review and incorporate new discoveries or information.
Because Christians argue from a philosophical standpoint of faith and make claims of things that simply can not pass any kind of verification, they are then free to ignore any facts or actions that may erode their faith. There are no facts or observations that could not be rationalized around. In fact, in my life and readings any novel outcomes or details tend to reinforce the faith and mental states of the most devout.
Consider the prayers of someone hanging by a slender branch on a cliff. Dangling there above an abyss, the faithful will call out to their god for assistance. It's a natural response in a dire situation.
If they then fall, and die, they don't get a chance to consider that their prayer had zero effect. Any onlookers would rationalize it away as "God called him home", probably pointing to the prayers of the victim as "evidence" of God's involvement.
If the poor sap falls, and survives with injuries, they will obviously see that as a victory. "I could have died! And yet, I live. Not walking again is a small price to pay for getting out of that circumstance."
If the person is rescued, that then also confirms the "power of prayer". Obviously, God was listening.
See? Every possible outcome will serve to confirm the credulous' beliefs. It's like that for most of the devout. They believe for unfounded, illogical, irrational reasons, so there's no foundation, no logic, and no rationality that could budge them from what they "feel" is true.
My statements may delight you, or they may anger you, but I will happily change my tune if you can demonstrate where I'm wrong. And that's why my stance is as far from that of a religious persons' as could be possible. And please don't insult me by comparing me with those poor, misguided folk.
A hot mess
Did I mention that I keep thinking today is actual Friday? It's my virtual Friday, because I'm taking tomorrow off from work.I just got excited... then sad. Because Battlestar Galactica is not on tonight.
Then I got happy again, because The Office and "Lost" are, in fact, on.
I'm a mess.
