Shooting Holes in the Moon

the face of the earth

2006-11-29T07:51:00.000-06:00

As kisses go, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.. The alkaline lips, Her fingers wrapped around my belt...She had to go, She took a step back in and then she started to smile, I heard a funny sound, And everything seemed to shift,.. yeah

A crazy wail, A funny shutter of a bad magnetic event, A ghost ran through us, Moving like a shadow of a cloud... I wasn’t sure, I thought that something happened but I didn’t know what, The moment seemed to fade, And I turned my eyes back to her.. That’s when I saw, I freeze the look of pre-alert and study it still, her smile starts to loosen, her pupils yawn wide And then she's blown... From the face of the earth

There wasn't any wind, No noise, No nothing just a body jerked skyward, limbs flailing like an unloved marionette, At impossible speed, Receding away like a far away dot...I can see her still, scream for help but no one answered... She turned end on end like a long lost astronaut, I felt the summer air reclaim me, the chirp of a bird, the whisper of leaves, And I was frozen... To the face of the earth

I never really knew the way she lived her life, I tried a couple numbers but they never called back, I didn’t know her family or friends at all... With no one to call, summer turned into fall, I gave up... It’s been a couple years and I guess I’m fine about it, It’s not like we were married It was three or four months, And nothing’s really different Though it seems like I've spent My life in planes, Which is kind of strange, But I don’t know....... yeah, yeah, yeah, No, no, yeah……

- Dismemberment Plan, "The Face of the Earth"

everything was beautiful and nothing hurt

2006-08-22T22:36:00.000-05:00

Feeling rather depressed tonight. Not sure why, although I'm sure exhaustion has something to do with it. Been working overtime to prepare for the first day of classes on Monday. Strangely enough, the last couple of weeks has been enjoyable in the sense that the start of the school year really brings energy and focus to my work. There's a sense of urgency and teamwork that's energizing. But for some reason, I feel off tonight. Bleah.

I'm re-reading Slaughterhouse Five...it's been many years. I'm about halfway through, and what's struck me right off the bat is how Jacob's Ladder, the early Tim Robbins film, bears striking resemblance to Vonnegut's novel. Specifically, Tim Robbin's character, like Billy Pilgrim, the main character in the novel, becomes "unstuck in time." (Robbins plays a Vietnam vet. In Slaughterhouse Five, Pilgrim is a veteran of World War Two). This theme can also be found Tim O'Brien's excellent collection of stories about Vietnam called The Things They Carried. Only in O'Brien'scase, he writes about himself as someone who shuttles willingly between past and present, deliberately blurring the line between memory and fact. What these stories share in common is a protagonist who has problems distinguishing what is real. What is real, as opposed to what is a dream (Jacob's Ladder), or what is a story (The Things They Carried), or what is the future (Slaughterhouse Five). Sure, it's easy to make the link between the chaos of war and protest art. But war and alternate realities has an equally venerable tradition which doesn't get nearly as much press (I should also point out Joseph Heller's Catch 22, which I've not read, would seem to also fit in this conversation).

You'd think that a book or movie which offers a disjointed view of reality,
which makes an effort to confuse the reader or viewer, is bound to be nihlishtic. Strangely enough, both Jacob's Ladder and The Things They Carried end on an affirmative note far from nihilism or despair. That is, perhaps, the most remarkable thing about these stories. Take The Things They Carried:

But this too is true: stories can save us. I'm forty-three years old, and a writer now, and even still, right here, I keep dreaming Linda alive. And Ted Lavender, too, and Kioa, and Curt Lemon, and a slim young man I killed, and an old man sprawled beside a pigpen, and several others whose bodies I once lifted and dumped into a truck. They're all dead. But in a story, which is a kind of dreaming, they dead sometimes smile and sit up and return to the world. (Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried, Penguin: 1990, p. 255).

Brave New Dentistry

2006-08-09T08:28:00.000-05:00

Seen on a marquee outside a dentist office in Dubuque: "Conscious Sedation"

the limits of digital photography

2006-08-07T22:10:00.000-05:00

I recently posted a link to an article in the New York Times about HDR, a new phenomenon in digital photography to make pictures even more accurate in terms of exposure, lighting, and color. Just days later, the Times, in some kind of yin-yang reporting, interviewed John Coffer, an old-schooler who specializes in tintypes, a medium popular during the nineteenth century. Coffer also lives a nineteenth-century pioneer lifestyle, living in a log cabin he built himself. His photos on the NYT website are beautiful, and a reminder of the limits of digital photography (regardless of Photoshop). There is something magical and mysterious about old photographs - especially daguerrotypes, tintypes, ambrotypes, and the like.

a family torn asunder

2006-08-07T22:01:00.000-05:00

Heartbreaking article from the New York Times about a family torn apart by the Israeli-Hezbollah conflict. A reminder that the wages of war are too often paid by civilians, on all sides.

HDR and digital photography

2006-08-02T22:41:00.000-05:00

Vancouver HDR Landscape
Originally uploaded by Buffett Jr.

After casting about on Flickr for a while, I've come across something called HDR, or high dynamic resolution. This is a photograph consisting of several photographs - all of the same subject - which have been taken at different exposures. The result is a photo with a wide range between shadow and light. For example, if you shoot someone standing at an open window, you can expose for the person, which means the window will be overexposed, or you can shoot for the window, which means the person will remain in shadow. HDR takes both exposures and combines them for the best of both worlds. I was originally suspicious of the technology, but this article in the New York Times makes a good argument for it.

seen on a t-shirt

2006-08-02T21:42:00.000-05:00

"Sports do not build character; they reveal it."

Photography and Truth

2006-07-22T12:37:00.000-05:00

To Hizbullah With Love!
Originally uploaded by khawaja.

Another stunning photo from Flickr. At first glance, it appears that the children are writing taunting messages to Hezbollah on the missles. But at least one Flickr member has disputed this, saying that this photograph was actually taken at an anti-war rally. The writing on the missles appears to contradict this interpretation, but it makes me think about how slippery the meaning of photographs can be, and how easily people can use photographs to push their own agendas, sometimes contrary to the intent of the artist.

Wheel Tree

2006-07-22T12:25:00.000-05:00

Wheel Tree - 2
Originally uploaded by menlo.

Now that I've uploaded most of my photos to Flickr, I've found some time to settle down and explore the site. There's so many talented photographers - it's both inspiring and humbling. Occasionally, I will come across a photo of something local, like this wheel tree, and when that happens, I'm always surprised - especially given how many millions of photographs are posted on Flickr. It's like finding a long lost friend. There's something amazing about finding someone else who found something in your corner of the world and thought it worthwhile not only to photograph, but share with the world.

This photo is tagged "Durand, Illinois", but there's a nearly identical sculpture outside of the Don Q Inn in Dodgeville, Wisconsin. This picture transforms something that's merely unusual into something beautiful and mysterious.

The funniest photo I've ever seen

2006-07-21T17:51:00.000-05:00

lol cat XD
Originally uploaded by miles-away.

Yeah, it's probably Photoshopped. But still. I could NOT stop laughing when I saw this on Flickr! And I still laugh every time I see it!

Deep Thoughts continued

2006-07-12T18:10:00.000-05:00

A Scanner Darkly, the latest film adaptation of a Philip K. Dick book, is about to hit the screens. The New York Times reports that before he died, Dick described himself as an "'acosmic panenthiest,' which means that I don't believe that the universe exists. I believe that the only thing that exists is God and he is more than the universe. The universe is an extension of God into space and time."

Dreaming about Bill Gates

2006-06-23T12:48:00.000-05:00

Continuing to upload pictures to Flickr. In the last few days I've uploaded photos from Cincinnati, Portland, and St. Louis. I figure I'm 40% through my collection so far (my digital photographs, that is).

I dreamed about Bill Gates last night! It was strange. He was taking me on a trip somewhere - he and his wife. I can't remember why. A Lamborghini figured in there. The dream was probably inspired by an article David Pogue wrote about Gates this week, focusing on his philanthropic work. It gave me a new appreciation for the man, despite my lack of enthusiasm for Windows.

B&H Photo is sponsoring a travel photo contest for amateurs and professionals. I'm thinking of submitting a photo. Suggestions are welcome! (You can browse the photos at Flickr's site).

Glacier photos

2006-06-20T23:59:00.000-05:00

Grinnell Glacier
Originally uploaded by Mike Willis.

I finally finished posting the photos from Glacier National Park. Have a look-see. The slideshow feature works well. Also learned how to use Google's RSS feed reader (with a little help from Paul!) I can now subscribe to various blogs and flickr accounts, and any updates are automatically emailed to me. Cool stuff indeed. On another note, tennis lessons went great tonight - my forehand was consistent for the first time since I-can't-remember-when. Practicing last weekend with LeAnn really helped. The trick seems to be stepping into the shot and keeping the wrist firm as I follow through. I'm psyched!

photo update

2006-06-20T00:02:00.000-05:00

Posted some more photos to my Flickr account today - mostly from Glacier and Toronto. More to follow.

As I post the pictures, I see little changes I'd like to make, but can't, lacking Photoshop or Aperture at home. Drives me crazy. Guess I'll have to spring for one of those apps soon.

Flickr does it again

2006-06-16T13:09:00.000-05:00

While playing around with Flickr yesterday, I found a cool little feature (well, cool for photo geeks like myself, anyway!). Any photo taken with a digital camera has a digital stamp that includes all kinds of information about the camera settings when the picture was taken, including the day and time, the shutter speed, aperture setting, and so forth. If you look at a photo on Flickr, there's a column on the right. Under "Additional Information" you can find out what kind of camera was used for the shot. Under this is a link for "More properties." Click on it, and you've got data up the wazoo. How cool is that? Probably overkill for the average person, but if you're an aspiring photographer, it's pretty fascinating. Kinda like peering into the toolbox of an artist.

BBQ Quest: Des Moines

2006-06-15T23:02:00.000-05:00

I know what you're thinking. BBQ? In Des Moines? Who cares! But bear with me, here. There was a front page article yesterday in the Des Moines Register about one of their local BBQ shacks, Mr. Bibb's BBQ and Tenderloin. According to the article, it's in a rough neighborhood and since the owners moved in, they've acted as a catalyst for cleaning up the block, literally and figuratively. Problem is, they can't make their rent, so they may be closing shop or relocating. I've not been there, so I can't vouch for their cooking, but I love the idea that the owners have invested in their neighborhood. If you're in the Des Moines area, be sure to check it out (soon!) and share a report.

tennis lesson babble

2006-06-15T22:45:00.000-05:00

Warning: technical and geeky tennis talk ahead...

I think I was so distracted ranting about the state of tennis in my last post that I forgot to mention I'm taking lessons this summer! It's a great deal - $19 for roughly six weeks of lessons, meeting twice a week (take that, snobby tennis clubs!). The lessons are offered by the city. There's twelve of us. The ages range from high school to retirees and everything in-between. A good mix. Tonight was the second lesson. We practiced hitting both forehands and backhands. Predictably, I was much stronger and consistent with my backhand. My kingdom for a strong forehand! I don't know why I struggle so much with my forehand, while my backhand comes naturally. All I can say for certain is that it is supremely frustrating! I'm trying to slow down and not hit the ball so hard. I've also noticed that I tend to hit the ball much better if I stretch for it - when I do that, I think I'm stepping into the shot, which is something I do naturally with my backhand.

Did I mention how thrilling it is to hit a backhand winner? There's nothing else like it in the world!

For the last fifteen minutes we once again played King of the Court, which means essentially that everyone had a chance to play each other, one on one, in brief, mini-games. I enjoy the variety of opponents. I'd say there are three others who are at my level or higher, so I have some people to watch and learn from. Andrew, a high school student, has a wicked spin on his forehand and backhand. I'm SO jealous! I want to learn how to do that.

We haven't gotten to serving yet, thank God. It's not going to be pretty.

But all in all, I'm really happy to be back on the courts, playing again. I love this sport. I hope I can continue to improve and play for a long, long time.

the problem with tennis

2006-06-13T20:50:00.000-05:00

Every three to four years, I get an itch to play tennis. I've been playing since high school, when Tony and I would bat the ball around on the courts at Hempstead for hours on end during the summer (random memory: Tony was crazy about iced tea back then; me, not so much). I was never very good, but we were equally inept so we had a good time.

Since then, I've taken lessons off and on. I love the game, but I need to play consistently to improve. Unfortunately, Iowa winters wreck havoc on this strategy. And this is my biggest beef with the sport: it's impossible to practice or play in the winter unless you belong to a racquet club (that is, if you live in the midwest). And guess what? A racquet club can be rather expensive. I looked into fees at one in Dubuque a few years ago. This particular place hits you with charges twice - once for the monthly membership fee, and a second time for a court fee. That's right - anytime you want to play a game of tennis at this club - the same club you pay dues to every month - you must also cough up some dough just for the privilege of stepping foot on their court! Doesn't that strike you as just a little, well, stupid and/or greedy? I haven't done any comparison shopping - after all, there are just so many indoor racquet clubs in Dubuque (which is to say, one) but I suspect this is not uncommon. My question is, why? For all the United States Tennis Association's efforts to reinvigorate interest in the sport, it's expensive racquet club fees which don't help the cause of tennis (a country-wide tour of tennis pros wouldn't hurt, either). My guess is, despite the remarkable story of the Williams sisters rise from Compton, most people still consider tennis as something snobby and country-clubbish. And that's a shame.

song of the week

2006-06-13T20:35:00.000-05:00

I love this song. A new favorite. (Fun fact: Big Star also wrote "In the Street", the song played in the opening credits for That '70s Show).

The Ballad of El Goodo
Big Star

Years ago, my heart was set to live, oh
But I've been trying hard against unbelievable odds
It gets so hard at times like now to hold on
My guns they're waiting to be stuck by
At my side is God

And there ain't no one gonna turn me 'round
Ain't no one gonna turn me 'round

There's people around who tell you that they know
The places where they send you, and it's easy to go
They'll zip you up and dress you down
Stand you in a row
But you know you don't have to
You can just say no

And there ain't no one gonna turn me 'round
Ain't no one gonna turn me 'round
Ain't no one gonna turn me 'round
Ain't no one gonna turn me 'round

I've been built up and trusted
Broke down and busted
But they'll get theirs and we'll get ours
Just if we can
Just, ah, hold on
Hold on
Hold on
Hold on

Years ago my heart was set to live, oh
But I've been trying hard against strong odds
It gets so hard at times like now to hold on
Well, I'll fall if I don't fight
And at my side is God

Ain't no one gonna turn me 'round
Ain't no one gonna turn me 'round
Ain't no one gonna turn me 'round
Ain't no one gonna turn me 'round
Hold on
Hold on
Hold on
Hold on

BBQ Quest!

2006-06-12T20:51:00.000-05:00

Quick weekend recap:

LeAnn, Maddie and I went to Cars on Friday night. Thumbs up. Luke Wilson was perfect in the role of an egotistical, self-involved race car. The tongue scene (you'll know it when you see it) made me laugh!

On Saturday morning Maddie's dad picked her up in Galena for a weekend visit in Chicago. LeAnn and I went to her cousin's wedding in a tiny town near Manchester, and then we went to see Styx, who were playing in Dubuque for some festival - you know, the one with log cutting contests - I lose track! We went with Kathy and Matt - Matt's a big fan of seventies and eighties progressive rock. I'm not a big Styx fan, and I'm not usually very keen on live music in general, but I was glad we went - it was a blast. Things I enjoyed:

1. The band started on time
2. The concert was outdoors, so it wasn't too smoky (although, as fate would have it, I did have a smoker standing next to me)
3. We had a decent view of the stage
4. The crowd was into the show
5. I forgot I knew half the songs the band played!

I actually left the concert with a new appreciation for Styx. I love Come Sail Away ever since I saw the pilot episode of Freaks and Geeks, and Too Much Time on My Hands was always an eighties fave of mine. But I had forgotten about Renegade, Lady, and The Best of Times. It's a guilty pleasure, sure. But watching them fly around on stage, you'd never guess that they've been playing - what? - thirty years? They coulda phoned it in, but the band really played their hearts out. You could tell they were having a great time.

On Sunday LeAnn and I drove to Madison for ribs. Well, it would be more accurate to say that I talked LeAnn into going to Madison for ribs! I'm on a BBQ quest somethin' fierce. I blame it on Al and Irene's BBQ in Cedar Rapids. Ever since going there a week ago, I'm all afire to find all the local BBQ joints and shacks in the tri-state area. I still love Famous Dave's, but now it's time to widen the net. So armed with a little internet research, I found Smoky Jon's #1 BBQ (that's the name) in northeast Madison. It was fantastic. The place is small - about the size of your average living room, I'd say - and the interior is bedecked in split logs reminiscient of a cabin. It looks a lot like Famous Dave's, actually - only smaller. I ordered a half-rack, which was very tasty. LeAnn wasn't crazy about the sauce - said it was too sweet and thick - but I didn't mind. I would like to find a 'que shack that offers a more vinegar-based sauce, but I don't expect to find anything like that around here.

qwantz (it's a small world...)

2006-06-07T22:24:00.000-05:00

It's funny how small the world can be. About a week ago, I stumbled across a site called qwantz.com when I was doing a google image search for dinosaurs. One of the highlights is a comic which features talking dinosaurs that have a penchant for stomping on people (they also sell hilarious t-shirts that only a true geek would appreciate - like me!)

The site also acted as a catalyst for a public art project (of sorts). The goal was to have people make and place real, three-dimensional question boxes (from Mario Bros) in random places all over the world. I thought this was brilliant! Can you imagine walking down a street, only to look up and see a real-life, three dimensional question box floating above you? Apparently some folks in Ohio didn't find it so amusing - a bomb squad was called in at one location to investigate the strange boxes. I'm grasping for a pithy aside here, but really, with a story like that, I'd be gilding the lily.

Here's where the shttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.giftory gets interesting. Last spring, the selfsame question boxes made their appearance on the UD campus, both in the technology center lobby and hanging from the trees outside. Coincidence? I think not! Sure enough, as I scrolled through the article, the site mentioned the University of Dubuque! As if that wasn't funny enough, the site gave credit to a student named Paul. I can only assume that this was my student assistant from last year. Paul was a freshman computer graphics student that had a penchant for wacky, crazy things like this. Alas, Paul left UD to pursue animation at the Rochester Institute of Technology. Poor guy didn't really fit in. I'll miss him. But it sure makes me smile knowing he was behind the Mario Bros public art on campus! We could use a few more students with his surreal and off-kilter sense of humor.

waterslide bonding

2006-06-04T22:51:00.000-05:00

Had a great weekend in Cedar Rapids. Yesterday LeAnn, Maddie and I went to the Cherry Hill "Aquatic Center" - you know, those things that used to be known as city pools! It's amazing how far the common city pool has come in twenty years or so. I realize I'm sounding a bit old and curmudgeonly when I say this, but when *I* was growing up, the pool was rectangular and had two things sticking out at one end, known as diving boards. Today, pools are SO much more kid-friendly. Now there's something called "zero depth entry" (a fancy phrase for ramp) so the wee ones can walk in the water slowly. This also has the added benefit, for those of use who like to warm up to the water gradually, of stringing out the process of acclimation even l o n g e r than usual!). There are large fountains shaped like flowers. There's even a set of large plastic lilypads that kids can hop across, just like in that Atari classic of yore, Pitfall!

And, needless to say, waterslides are everywhere. Cherry Hill has two - a standard, serpentine kind that winds around, and a second, steeper slide that goes almost straight down (known as a "drop" slide for those in the know). I did both. The serpentine slide was fun but not terribly thrilling. The drop slide, on the other hand, is just a little bit freaky. Part of the freakiness is that you can't actually SEE where you're going - the pitch is that steep! It's also roughly 75 feet high. I'll admit it - I was a wee bit tentative about doing it. But before I knew it, I was next in line and the fourteen year old lifeguard was telling me it was my turn. It was over in 3-4 seconds. For the first half second, you think, "This isn't so bad." Then, before you know it, you're in a near-free fall mode. I believe my butt actually lifted off the slide at one point! And as you're falling, you wonder just how many kids waiting at the bottom you're actually going to flatten as you careen out of control. But of course you don't. As quickly as you start, you're done.

The funny thing is, the second time I went up, everyone in the line was talking about the slide like it was a bonding experience. Suddenly, you share an intimate bond with people that you would never look twice at in the normal, workaday world. "Isn't this one awesome?" "I was a little freaked the first time." "You think you're gonna fall, but you're really not." "Yeah, man. I was trying to hydroplane at the end, but I lost my form."

In short, it was a blast. And I have to say, whoever has the job of actually designing public pools these days has one of the coolest jobs around. I feel just a little bit sad when I think about the lame pool I had grown up with. Who knows where I might've ended up if I had access to an "aquatic center"? And more importantly, who needs to look any farther that today's modern aquatic centers to see that good design does make a difference?

deep thoughts, part 2

2006-06-02T22:20:00.000-05:00

There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are. - W. Somerset Maugham

Skill without imagination is craftsmanship and gives us many useful objects such as wicker picnic baskets. Imagination without skill gives us modern art. - Tom Stoppard

The media. It sounds like a convention of spiritualists. - Tom Stoppard

Life is a long lesson in humility. - James Barrie

We live in a world that gives scant attention to beauty. We're willing to build cities that function but have little beauty and to make homes that are convenient and affordable but not necessarily beautiful. We believe that beauty is expendable. But to the soul beauty is more important than almost anything, and so it plays an important role in our desires and cravings. - Thomas Moore

learning to love the Swiss Miss

2006-06-02T21:24:00.000-05:00

I've always been a fan of Martina Hingis. She's a refreshing example of grace and technique when tennis seems overflowing with testosterone-fueled hitters who share more in common with Barry Bonds. But she's got a problem with diplomacy, and that's cost her a number of fans. Slate sports writer Seth Stevenson used to be one such Monica-hater. He even went so far as to nickname her "Chucky" in reference to her "bulbous" forehead. How rude is that?

On Thursday, Mr. Stevenson wrote a funny and contrite reconsideration of the Swiss Miss. It's worth reading if you're a tennis fan or enjoy seeing sports writers admit their mistakes (how often does that happen?) Without a doubt the funniest passage comes at the end of the article, when Stevenson actually professes a grudging admiration for Martina's lack of tact:

I was even happy to see some of her patented crude arrogance return this week. When asked about her first-round match, Hingis replied, "Well, I don't think I was totally tested today. It's hard to say something after 6-2, 6-2 against Lisa Raymond."

Daaaaaaaamn! Why you gotta hate on Lisa Raymond like that? I'll tell you why: because Chucky's back.

Easter

2006-06-02T07:14:00.000-05:00

Thought I'd share this pic of LeAnn and Maddie from Easter. I took it on the front sidewalk of my Mom's house. I'm not normally very good with portraits, but I really like how this turned out.

the anxiety of influence and sour grapes

2006-06-01T23:03:00.000-05:00

Ok, I have to come clean. I fibbed in my post yesterday when I said my art history classes had no effect on my artistic inspirations. As you can see from another of my Microsoft Paint masterpieces (TM), I was clearly influenced by Rembrandt Peale, an early 19th century portraitist, as well as Picasso. I love how Rubens (the boy in the REAL painting) has two fingers in the soil, checking the moisture. What a great moment to capture. You can read more about the Peale painting here.

In one of those funny coincidences life doles out on occasion, the New York Times has an article today about just this topic. Dale Chihuly, the biggest name in glass art, is suing two of his former assistants for copying his work. Their response is that Chihuly can't copyright a particular style or technique, and I'm inclined to agree. They may be using the same technique in the same style, but they are not physically copying or reproducing his work. And to make things more interesting, Chihuly has not actually blown or made glass for a long time due to several injuries he suffered when he was younger. He comes up with the ideas and sketches them out (his sketches are beautiful, by the way), but his apprentices and assistants are the people who actually make the glass. Are they taking the skills he taught them and ripping off his muse? Sure. Does it make for good art? Probably not. Can you legally stop them from doing it? I don't see how.

deep thoughts, part 1

2006-06-01T00:09:00.000-05:00

In addition to my UFO drawings, I also rediscovered a bunch of quotes I'd compiled when I was in high school and college. These still make me laugh...

I can't understand why people are afraid of new ideas. I'm frightened of the old ones. John Cage

All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling. Oscar Wilde

Love is the answer, but while you're waiting for the answer, sex raises some pretty good questions. Woody Allen

Patriotism is your conviction that this country is superior to all other countries because you were born in it. George Bernard Shaw

If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous, he will not bite you. This is the principal difference between a dog and a man. Mark Twain

The word "meaningful" when used today is nearly always meaningless. Paul Johnson

noodlings

2006-05-31T22:36:00.000-05:00

Your faithful blogger recently discovered some old drawings and illustrations I made on my old Gateway PC when I was living a sad, lonely existence in Kansas. These were made with the Microsoft Paint app that came with Windows at the time (what in the name of Bill Gates came before Windows 98, anyway? I can't remember for the life of me!) As you can see, my drawings focused on my childhood fascination with spaceships and UFOs. Not sure what that means, but I suppose it does prove that my master's degree in art history had little effect on my own artistic aspirations!

Tony recommended two books I'm excited to pick up: Long Way Back by Brendan Halpin, and King Dork by Frank Portman. I'm in the middle of re-reading Blue Like Jazz: Nonreligious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality by Donald Miller. It's essentially the tale of the author's "faith journey" (how I despise that phrase!) - from his allegiance to a "slot-machine God" to his loss of faith and subsequent rediscovery. Miller is an engaging writer, and the book is full of great quips, stories, and insights that are both amusing and worthy of reflection. His style is very down to earth - many of his chapters begin with sticky, quotidian things like money or lonliness. It's clear from the start that Miller is liberal, which I'm sure will turn off many readers. He's also painfully honest about his own doubts. But by the same token he makes a convincing case for Christianity's enduring appeal - the faith, that is, not the bureaucracy. I'm not doing it much justice, but trust me - it's a good read - especially if you find yourself asking the "big questions" or are on your own journey.

oh, the places you'll go

2006-05-30T22:17:00.000-05:00

Tonight LeAnn and I took a drive to Balltown, one of my favorite places around Dubuque. There's a fantastic panoramic view of the Mississippi River valley near Breitbach's restaurant. After a few wrong turns, we made it. The sun was starting to set so I had some fantastic light to work with. I took several pics but unfortunately most of them were overexposed in the sky. Here's one of the most successful.

On the way back into town, my photographic senses must've been tingling because I noticed a majestic old red brick building I've never really paid any attention to before. It's at 30th and Jackson. The place is huge - it's hard to believe I've never really noticed it before tonight. It's fallen into disrepair - windows are missing and bats have presumably taken over. While I was taking pictures, LeAnn struck up conversation with a couple that live nearby. They told her the place was originally a brewery, which sounds mistaken to me. The Star Brewery is located near the river. Were there two breweries in town? I need to research this further.

tag, you're it

2006-05-30T15:05:00.000-05:00

saigon
Originally uploaded by jaymce.

One of the coolest things about Flickr is the ability to "tag" photos. In other words, you can label your photos with as many keywords as you wish. This helps you stay organized, and it allows others to search and find photos more easily. This, for example, is one picture that will come up if you do a search on "Saigon". It will also come up if you do a search for "Vietnam", "weathered", or "license". I originally thought this was Photoshopped, but now I'm not so sure, judging from the other pics by the same person who, by the way, does amazing work. Check out his other stuff if you have time to kill.

You can see a list of Flickr's most popular tags here.

Flickr

2006-05-30T10:36:00.000-05:00

Waterfall, Trail of the Cedars
Originally uploaded by chiliboots.

I've found a new online photo site I'm trying out to store and share my pictures with friends and family: Flickr.com. This is a test. I took this photo at Glacier National Park last summer.

Trader Joe's

2006-05-26T11:44:00.000-05:00

Joanna mentioned that Minneapolis/St. Paul is getting their first Trader Joe's. Although I've heard the name, I didn't know what is *was*, exactly. Fortunately, she sent me an excellent NYT article. Now I'm green - GREEN - with envy! It's essentially a small chain of grocery stores, started in California, that specialize in wine, cheese, and hard-to-find imports. Their employees travel the world looking for exotic delicacies to import or re-create. I believe there's one in Chicago. I think I hear a road trip calling!

victorian thunderstorm

2006-05-26T07:15:00.000-05:00

I shot this photo during a thunderstorm in April. This is the first time I've successfully captured a lightning bolt on film! I sat on my front porch for roughly forty minutes, snapping the shutter whenever I saw light in the sky. At the end of the evening, I had snapped about fifty pictures. At no time, however, did I think I had anything good. It wasn't until the next morning, when I downloaded the pictures, did I realize I actually had something halfway decent! This was shot at 1/2 second.

rockin' with Rush

2006-05-26T06:57:00.000-05:00

The National Review recently published a list of the top 50 conservative rock songs. I read about it on the New York Times, ironically enough! I'm sure some liberals are crying foul, but I think it's an intruiging idea. It reminds me of Bruce Springsteen's "Born in the USA" (not on the list), whose refrain sounds like patriotic rallying cry - that is, until you listen to the lyrics.

Some of the songs on the list are clear cut - I'm lookin' at you, Sweet Home Alabama - and some of the choices are surprising or just plain odd - Gloria (U2), Right Here, Right Now (Jesus Jones), Rime of the Ancient Mariner (Iron Maiden!).

the lost art of handwriting

2006-05-25T14:40:00.000-05:00

I'm fascinated by handwriting, and I love to psychoanalyze people based on their writing style (not very fair, really. Especially when I know them already!) I'm not too impressed with my own - I gave up on cursive a long time ago, but it hasn't prevented me from admiring others'. This is something I'd like to improve upon. Does anyone teach remedial handwriting? :-)

Along the same lines, I'm amazed by the quality of calligraphic fonts that are available through Veer. They're an oxymoron - digital fonts which approximate, quite convincingly, someone's handwriting. To confirm this, almost all of the calligraphic fonts are literally named - "Mr Blaketon", for example, or "Mrs Blackfort". One of my favorites is "Mr Keningbeck". It does make me wonder if we are losing touch with an art form that was taken for granted before the advent of the PC.

the rapid demise of film

2006-05-25T12:59:00.000-05:00

Canon announced today that they will no longer develop new film SLR cameras. However, according to this article, they will continue to sell current model SLRs "as long as their demand remains."

Although I own a Nikon digital SLR and love it, I'd be hard pressed to admit that the picture quality rivals film. Photographer Ken Rockwell has argued that in order for digital compare to 35 mm film, the cameras would need to be roughly 25 megapixels (compared with standard 6-8 today, with top-of-the-line models going up to 11). See Rockwell's argument here. This estimate is contested here.

We all saw film's demise coming (everyone except Kodak, that is), but it's still hard to believe that the tide is turning so quickly. I wonder long how long it will be before Target and Walgreens stop selling film altogether.

extort this

2006-05-25T10:59:00.000-05:00

A couple of cyberpunks recently tried to intimidate MySpace into paying them $150 grand for some user information they hacked. When they went to make the deal, they got a surprise.

Veer

2006-05-24T12:50:00.000-05:00

I'm a font geek. Once of the best collections I've found is Veer. They're not free -- heck, they're not even cheap! But they're fun to browse.

Veer also has some amazing illustration collections, both vintage and contemporary. I personally like the fifties and sixties era space-age stuff.

Finally, they have some nifty desktop wallpaper you can download. I used to have this on my PC at work.

rollin' it, Katamari style

2006-05-23T22:28:00.000-05:00

My friend Paul turned me on to this blog entry from Wired.com. A must for any Katamari fans! (May 22 entry)

http://blog.wired.com/games/index.blog?entry_id=1486025

act your age

2006-05-22T10:30:00.000-05:00

It's official - I'm a Yelp addict. The site is a collection of local business and restaurant reviews written by anyone who cares to throw their two cents in. It's a great resource if you're traveling to a new city and want some tips on where to visit or grab a bite to eat. And best of all, it gives amateur critics like me a place to exercise my critic skills for good, not evil! My friend Tony turned me on to the site. You can find my reviews at mpwillis.yelp.com. Tony's are at fastnbulbous.yelp.com. He's about 400 reviews ahead of me, but c'mon - he's got an unfair advantage with Chicago!

Both LeAnn and I tapped into our inner children this weekend. LeAnn's incident started on the drive to her parents' house Saturday. She was driving. As we cruised down her parents' road, we approached a group of teenagers who were walking down the street. They were in the middle of the road, backs to us. As we grew closer, LeAnn slowed down. One or two of the kids looked back and began to migrate to the side of the road, albeit rather slowly and with great reluctance. Rather than drive around, LeAnn slowed the car even more and gently encouraged them, in her way, to make way. For about thirty seconds, it was a standoff, Oldsmobile Alero vs. teenage mob, at the OK Corral. My window was down. One of the kids asked with that tone of voice that's more of an accusation than a question which only teens can muster, "Why don't you just drive around?" And LeAnn shot back, just as quickly, "What does it look like I'm doing?" Or something equally witty - I don't recall for sure. I just looked at her like, What the hell are you doing? The wisdom of getting into a battle of wits with teenagers is questionable at best, but I was really wondering what Maddie made of her Mom's reaction!

Now, lest you think this ends poorly for LeAnn, fast forward to the next day. LeAnn, Maddie and I decided to go to Palisades State Park for a picnic. It was a glorious afternoon, and we had a perfect grilling spot next to the Cedar River. After we had gorged ourselves on some brats, Maddie and I took a walk to the river. The grass was full of dandelions which had gone to the puffy seed stage, perfect for blowing in the wind. I picked up a couple of perfect specimens and handed one to Maddie. She gave it one half-hearted puff and threw it aside. I don't know why, but that really irked me. I picked out that dandelion especially for her! Such ingratitude! So did I suck it up like a man? Hell no! I decided to start running back to the picnic table, leaving Maddie screaming in the dust, knowing full well it would irk her. And boy, did I get my reaction. She screamed bloody murder, and by the time she made it back to the table, she was in tears. I knew I'd get a reaction, but I didn't expect...tears! I felt like a heel. I was. Just desserts, I suppose, for my condescending reaction to LeAnn the day before!

One other incident to relate about the picnic. While we were cooking the brats, LeAnn somehow managed to go all dyslexic and referred to the picnic basket as the "pisnic" basket. We were a little punchy and had a good laugh, when Maddie, out of the blue, bellowed - yes, bellowed - "PISS OFF" to her Mom! It wasn't said with any acrimony, but she clearly had the spirit of the thing. LeAnn IMMEDIATELY started laughing harder, while I did my best to put on my stern face and explain, in a lame fashion, what that meant and why it wasn't appropriate. Don't know that it stuck, though. By this time, LeAnn is doing her best to stifle her laugher, and tears are literally streaming down her face. We still don't know where Maddie picked that one up.

hot dogs, Chicago-style

2006-05-19T22:39:00.000-05:00

Ah, home sweet home.

Last day of Apple training was much more palatable to my brain. The last half of the class was spent putting everything we learned to use, which I loved. Everyone in class downloaded and installed a little app which completely hosed our computers, and our task was to diagnose the problems (note the plural) and solve them, one by one, until everything was fixed. It was TOUGH. I enjoyed the challenge, even though I was not able to successfully solve all the problems. This is the way I learn: by doing.

Anyhoo, Molly and I had one more great Chicago dining experience before we left. We went to Portillo's in Elmhurst for lunch - one of the guys at Mac Specialist recommended it. The place looks like an old-fashioned diner and the interior is decked out with all kinds of fifties memorabilia (the revolving door even has song titles stenciled on it in the style of the old jukebox cards - nice touch). I ordered the jumbo dog with everything, which includes hot peppers, tomatoes, and a big slice of kosher pickle sittin' on top. It was SO good. I also had a big slice of chocolate cake for dessert. Again, amazing. The cake was light and moist, while the frosting was out of this world. Heaven!

It sounds like what I had was the genuine Chicago-style hot dog, according to this entry in Wikipedia. "Dragged through the garden" indeed!

Here's Mike Royko's hilarious smackdown of former Illinois Senator Carol Moseley-Braun, who had the audacity to suggest that a Chicago-style dog has ketchup!

pretzel fever

2006-05-18T21:17:00.000-05:00

Made it through day two of the three-day Apple training. Today was rough going, covering issues that are of greatest interest to computer programmers and network administrators - two job descriptions that I'd be hard-pressed to fit into. The hard truth of the matter is that I'm not a natural when it comes to tech support. I enjoy working with computers, and I find it very gratifying to help others. I think that I have the patience and people skills to teach others what they don't know and not embarrass them if they make mistakes. But those are the limits. I have no mind for networking, or hardware repair. Which is why I'm probably ok in the role I have at school - it's technical, but not hard core.

Last night I grabbed a late dinner with a friend at the Cheesecake Factory, which was delicious if excessive and over-the-top as usual. While we sat there gorging ourselves on entrees fit for the Brady Bunch, our conversation slowly turned from how good we have it to God and religion. My friend, who was raised in the Catholic church, told me that she's lost her faith. She wants to believe, she told me, but just doesn't have the unquestioning faith in her church that she once had, and feels guilty as a result (insert de rigeur aside about Catholics and guilt here). As we talked and she shared her frustrations with me, I found myself in a very strange position: I became the believer. I urged her not to lose faith. I suggested that that most people have doubts from time to time, and I even threw in the old chestnut that faith is a choice freely made, not something that must be proven (like a formula) or that you just accept because that's what Mom and Dad tell you to do. In short, I sounded like a full-blooded Christian bent on trying to save a soul! It was odd, to say the least, and I didn't even realize it until we were halfway through the conversation. It really bothered me that she was losing something that was clearly important to her, and I wanted to reassure her the best way I could. Pretty funny, coming from me, the poster child for agnostics.

No blog entry would be complete without some mention of food, and this, dear readers, leads me to tonight's dinner. Molly and I went downtown - I wanted to show her Millenium Park, and we both wanted to get out of Villa Park for a litle while. Her reaction to "the bean" surprised me - she thought it was wierd! I, of course, love it to death, and immediately labeled her as "anti-bean" and "bean-prejudiced." We didn't really come to any agreement about it, but we did decide, on a whim, to stop in Potbelly's (aka "Potbelly Sandwich Works") for dinner. It was perfect. It's essentially a sub shop, so the eats were cheap. Cheap but good. The toasted sandwiches reminded me of my old favorites at Yellow Sub in Lawrence, Kansas. The atmosphere is relaxed, too - call it "flea shop funky". The restaurant occupies the corner of a large office building but feels more like a comfortable, worn-in shoe - Mother Hubbard, perhaps? - with old paintings, vintage sofas, and light fixtures fashioned out of ships' steering wheels. There are a few balconies with odds and ends, but unfortunately no seating.

The icing on the cake were the potato chips. I'm not a big fan of chips in general, but for some reason I'm fascinated by local varieties whenever I'm in a new town. It's not unlike picking up the local newspaper. Potbelly's, as it turns out, sells Vitner's. The mascot, featured prominently on the front of each bag, is a bag of potato chips that also happens to be a saxiphonist. He wears a big pair of red Ray Bans, and "Vinnie" is emblazoned across his forhead. But the greatest detail? The potato chips that are flying willy-nilly out of his sax. It's inspired, I tell ya. Imagine my surprise when I turned the bag over and found out that they're made in Freeport, Illinois, the town I called home between the ages of six and ten! The bag mentions that Vitner's is also famous for popcorn (cheddar cheese flavored), corn chips, and...pretzels, which also just happen to be the mascot for the Freeport High School! Yes, I too could've been a pretzel if my parents had not re-located to Dubuque in 1979. *sigh* A great end to the day.

God's insurance plan

2006-05-17T23:27:00.000-05:00

A bit of inspired hilarity from David Plotz's blog about the Bible: regarding God's covenant with Noah (and mankind)...

"9:9-17. God announces His first covenant with man, that He will never again destroy the earth with a flood. He doesn't rule out other catastrophes. (God, apparently, is the opposite of an insurance company. He offers flood protection, but no other coverage.)"

Hilarious!

Aurelio's

2006-05-17T19:01:00.000-05:00

Made it through the first day of training unscathed. I'll skip the geek report for now about all the cool things I learned, and go straight for the OTHER highlight of the day - lunch! Our instructor took a few of us out for pizza at a local place called Aurelio's. It's in an unassuming strip mall that looks like any other, but once you walk in through the carved wood door, you're transported to another time and place. A large mural greets you inside the front door with beaming visages of the Aurelio family (I can only assume). It's a nice, homey touch. There's also a large photograph of a Gulf war soldier in the desert proudly holding up an Aurelio's t-shirt. Several walls are covered with Polaroids and snapshots of various babies, all future customers.

I liked the dining area. It's dark, with dark wood paneling and stained glass placed here and there. The tables are formica, but have a red checkerboard pattern. And red and green Italian umbrella shades - the kind you'd find over a patio table - are suspended from the ceiling everywhere. Roy Orbison played on the stereo. GoodFellas came to mind as I looked around and took it all in. I get the sense that not much has changed since they opened their doors, and I like that.

We all dug into the pizza buffet, which is usually not my favorite way to try new food. But the spinach and cheese pazone (or is that calzone?) was fantastic, and I liked the capers in the pasta salad. Yum! If you're in the neighborhood and you happen to appreciate the charms of local pizzerias, you owe it to yourself to check it out.

livin' it up in Oakbrook Terrace

2006-05-16T21:38:00.000-05:00

I'm writing to you tonight from my comfy, faux-leather desk chair at the Comfort Suites in Oakbrook Terrace, Illinois. I'm here for three days to attend an Apple training for troubleshooting and user support - one of those geeky parts of my job that I enjoy. I'm actually quite excited about the class - it's hands-on - a big perk - and as many of you already know, I'm a Mac fan at heart. Even though - even though! Apple does not have a lock on trouble-free machines. Contrary to their marketing campaigns, I experience lock-ups and crashes almost as often as I do on PCs. Sacrilege, I know. But it's the truth. But I love Macs anyway. Probably because Apple appeals to my designer at heart. I was going to say, my propellerhead spirit, but that sounded weird. The thing about design that Apple "gets" is that it's not just about clean lines and quasi-modern forms. It's about experience, and how people use and understand and don't understand how a computer works. Also known as interface design, or experiential design, something I'm fascinated with (see Don't Make Me Think : A Common Sense Approach to Web Usability by Steve Krug). But I digress.

One thing I love about this hotel: free wireless internet access. Not sure if it's standard at all Comfort Suites - I doubt it is. But it seems all the hotels in this area - which seem to cater to business travelers - have it. Gotta have that edge. I haven't checked out the pool or fitness room yet.

Early reports about The DaVinci Code movie aren't that promising, although I doubt that will stop anyone from seeing it. I know I will. But I'm glad I read the book first - it's a fun read, and it's hard to know how a film adaptation can top the book. Especially since Ron Howard cast Tom Hanks, who is way off the mark from what I imagined. Richard Gere, I can see. Maybe - maybe - even George Clooney. But Tom Hanks? Nah. Not to take anything away from him - I generally enjoy his performances and thought he was great in Road to Perdition. But not this role.

Found yet another interesting article on Slate (good ol' Slate!). David Plotz is "blogging the Bible," in his words. He's set out to read it - all of it - and jot down his thoughts and observations along the way (Plotz is Jewish, by the way). His first post struck me as observant and amusing. He's respectful, but keeps an irreverant edge. It reminds me of the two months or so when Nicky, myself, and another UD seminary student set out to read the Bible together, starting at the Old Testament. We didn't make it all that far, but we had some spirited discussions. It's not easy to discuss something like the Bible and maintain respect and goodwill while approaching it from such divergent views. In that regard, we had something special. I look forward to following Plotz's posts.

And while we're on the topic of God, why do some churches offer classes in marriage preparation and then limit the attendance to couples who only plan to marry in their particular church? You would think that any church worth it's salt would be interested in preparing ANY couple for success in marriage. Of course it makes a certain amount of sense for a couple to attend marriage "class" at a church they belong to. But make it a requirement? Dumb. By all means, the church should charge for their service if they see fit. But drop the requirement. Or give me a good reason why it's in place.

I almost forgot to mention that on the drive over to Chicago, I received a refresher course on just how beautiful northwestern Illinois can be. There's a stretch of Highway 20 between Dubuque and Freeport that runs along a ridgeline overlooking farmland. It's stunning - a beautiful valley that would surely earn the praise of the early American landscape masters Thomas Cole, Albert Bierstadt, or Frederic Edwin Church. But today it was especially beautiful because we (Molly, my co-worker who was driving) and I could see thunderstorms off in the distance. It was awesome to behold. The grey dipped down from the sky and rubbed out the land like a wash of watercolor or a smear of charcoal. Isn't one of the definitions of "sublime" to feel completely absorbed or consumed by an experience? It was like that. Watching from the ridgeline, seeing the clouds sweeping below us felt like I had a telescopic view of the world, in which I could see everything moving to and fro across its surface. At that moment I wished I could paint - I doubt a photograph really could have done it justice. Maybe Thomas Cole. Not me.

Duran Duran and courage

2006-05-14T20:38:00.000-05:00

Lots of good, thought-provoking articles in Slate recently...

In this article, Michael Kinsley takes a closer look at those who defied authority during the crises on 9/11 in order to save their lives or others'. He puts his finger on what I was fumbling with in my earlier post about United 93 (the movie). I quote: "The defiance of authority is a big reason the United 93 story is so thrilling. This was heroism, American-style. Dissing the Man on your way out the door. These folks were cowboys. John Wayne and Clint Eastwood don't have time for the rules, and neither did they." I never really thought about it that way before. Interesting, because the film portays them as anything BUT John Wayne/Clint Eastwood types. But that just makes their actions that much more impressive.

What's just as interesting, however, is Kinsley's assertion that the people in the World Trade Towers who obeyed orders to return to their offices also showed true courage. Kinsley suggests that those who ignored directions to return their offices only survived because they were the exception to the rule. If *everyone* had decided to leave the building, chances are the stairways would have become congested and impassable. The survivors, in essence, survived because of everyone who decided to heed the (bad) advice to return to work. Kinsley concludes: "And sometimes obeying authority is the counsel of courage while defying it is the counsel of cowardice. It probably took more courage to climb back up to your office in the World Trade Center than it did to proceed down and out of the building. Foolish courage, as it turns out, but you never know." How scary is that? I know myself well enough to believe that I would have most likely obeyed authority if I was in either of those situations. What would you have done?

The other article I enjoyed was by Jody Rosen, Slate's music critic. He describes the current state of music criticism as a pendulum which is swinging towards favor with pop music, by which I mean Britney Spears, Kelly Clarkson, or whoever is dominating the Billboard charts at the time. He suggests that this is a backlash against an earlier generation of critics who held popular music, including metal, rap, and R&B in disdain. He describes a writer/critic who recently reviewed a 1986 Rolling Stone Record Guide. The result? The guide either ignored or dissed rap and metal - "the two genres that within a few years would dominate the pop charts," he says with a smile. Of course, hindsight is 20/20, but needless to say, every top 20 list or record guide will have its own bias, no matter how much they lay claim to objectivity.

The article is remarkably even-handed, and I agree with his ultimate conclusion that the dichotomy between professional rock critics and those who love Top 40 is false, more often than not. I have a special place in my heart for Top 40 and make no bones about enjoying musicians who can write (or perform) a catchy hook (although Rosen doesn't spend any time talking about musicians who don't actually *write* their own songs). In high school my good friend Tony often ridiculed and disparaged Top 40 acts that I really liked - Duran Duran and Wham! come to mind. In those early days I found it hard to defend my appreciation for "The Reflex," although in retrospect I am not embarassed to admit that I *still* enjoy several songs by both those bands, even as I also grew to love bands on the other side of the aesthetic spectrum like Sonic Youth. What's the lesson? Just that music criticism is subject to whims, fashion, and politics, just like everything else. No surprise there, I suppose. But it's sure fun to read a music critic admit as much!

Speaking of Top 40, have I mentioned what a godsend iTunes is for recovering lost fragments of my youth? I thought I'd long ago downloaded or bought all the songs from my childhood that I loved. But each week, it seems, I hear a snippet of a song on the radio that I'd forgotten about. This week it was "Thunder Island" by Jay Ferguson. You may not recognize the song title, but believe me - you know the song. It's an awesome slice of seventies pop/rock, and I'm digging it big time.

This weekend LeAnn and I somehow started identifying bands whose names repeat themselves. Like Duran Duran. There's more than one would think! To wit:

Duran Duran
Gus Gus
Oingo Boingo
The Horror The Horror

I'm sure there are more...can't think of 'em right now, though. Feel free to add your favorites!

Finally, here's a funny modest proposal outlining the reasons why a PS3 would make a better "life partner" than a spouse, by Reihan Salam and Will Wilkinson.

the best American novel

2006-05-12T22:02:00.000-05:00

The New York Times printed revealed today that the best American novel of the past 25 years is...drum roll, please...Toni Morrison's Beloved. I was happy to see three of my personal favorites, JK Toole's A Confederacy of Dunces, Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian and Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried, were runners up. You can read the article here.

One book that didn't make the list, but I never get tired of plugging: The Last Crossing by Guy Vanderhaeghe (see, I love the book so much I've memorized how to spell that damn tricky Dutch name!) Truth be told, I believe Guy is an English author, but the novel should be considered anyway since it's one of the finest westerns written since Lonesome Dove. Not that I've read that many. But I've read both of those, and I'll be damned if anyone has a cross word to say about either. But that's just the whiskey talkin'. Did I mention that Tombstone wasn't that good? (the movie, not the pizza..although the pizza has no braggin' rights, either).

Commencement is tomorrow. Big day. Weather is supposed to be cold and rainy, unfortunately. I'm not sure who's giving the address. Stay tuned!

the list of 10

2006-05-11T22:37:00.000-05:00

Some stuff I'm chewing on/enjoying lately (while pretending I haven't posted anything in almost six months):

1. Zunafish. Great little site I read about in the New York Times. Essentially a 21st century trading post, you can swap books, CDs, DVDs, and games with other members. All trades are one to one, meaning any CD can be exchanged for any other. There's no cash trading hands, except for the one dollar transaction fee which goes to the website for each trade. The biggest catch: if you want something that's hot, you better have something equally in demand to trade!

2. Yahoo Music/Launchcast. I'm totally addicted. You rate artists, songs, albums, etc., and the big Yahoo jukebox in the sky plays songs based on what you like and what you don't. Like having a friend with an endless collection of music and who knows exactly what you like. Which is kinda like my friend Tony, aka Uncle Fester (see www.fastnbulbous.com). Except Launchcast won't laugh at me when I admit my weakness for Duran Duran. :-)

Thing about Launchcast is, it's not compatible with Apple/Mac OS X. iTunes is great for buying music, but let's face it, Apple, your selection of radio stations sucks. Can't even hold a candle to Yahoo Music's site. Either catch up, or someone please twist Yahoo's arm so us poor Apple users can enjoy the benefits of their great site.

3. E3/Sony PS3 launch. Could care less. Still trying to catch up with games like Shadow of the Colossus, Ico, Guitar Hero for PS2. I'm seriously considering picking up a used Xbox, however, so I can be the last person on the planet to play Halo.

4. Google Earth. I'm totally addicted to this cool little app. Think of Mapquest combined with satellite imagery of the entire world. Amazing. I looked up the hotel I stayed at in Glacier National Park last summer, and it popped right up, right down to the little cars in the parking lot. Ah, memories!

5. Tombstone (the movie). I rented this 'cuz I'm in a Western mood. Not too impressed - I thought the dialogue was rather clunky, and the storyline was predictable and full of cliches. On the plus side, Val Kilmer as Doc Holiday was great, and I rather enjoyed spotting such unlikely actors as Jason Priestly and Thomas Hayden Church in cowboy getup. Looking forward to Wyatt Earp and Maverick next. Best of all, the second season of Deadwood comes out on DVD next week!

6. NewsRadio. I love this show. Been watching seasons one and two on DVD from Netflix, and I think it's held up remarkably well since it was on the air ten years ago. The cast is uniformly solid. It's probably not a fair comparison, but I've seen a few episodes of The Office (UK version), and I think NewsRadio does the office humor bit so much better. But that's just me.

I still mourn the loss of Phil Hartman, one of the funniest men I've ever seen. It's creepy, though, that the theme of his death runs as a side-story in several early episodes, and his character is borderline-paranoid that random people are out to kill him. Phil, you are missed.

7. Mission Impossible 3. Loved it. One reviewer trashed it because she couldn't separate Tom Cruise the actor from Tom Cruise the scientologist, couch-jumping, Brooke Shields-bashing guy. I don't have that problem. Thought the movie was terrific in terms of sheer popcorn action escapism, and the helicopter/bridge scene is bound to go down as a classic (although that particular setup is starting to get a little cliche - haven't we seen it before in Matrix 2 and Alias?) And yes, everyone is right: Philip Seymour Hoffman plays the best bad guy I've seen in long, long time.

8. United 93. Loved it, for exactly the opposite reason as MI3 (I refuse to put in those ridiculous colons - stupid, people!). Harrowing, of course. My heart was beating like a madman for almost the entire film - it's strangely a relief when the terrorists finally hijack the plane. The end left me in tears. It took me a while to figure out what exactly I found compelling. But here's one thing: although it's largely speculative, the movie defines, for me at least, what heroism really is. I don't care that much of what happens in the film is surmised. I don't care whether the passengers indeed managed to break into the cockpit or not. What matters, to me, is the fact that this plane never reached its intended target, and that is due to the passengers who decided to make a stand, knowing full well that they would not live. Those, my friends, are heroes.

The movie also represents what seems like a new genre. It's not a documentary, but it's based on actual events. Not just based on events: it's been pointed out ad nauseum that the director went to great lengths to be as accurate as possible in recreating the event. He cast people who resembled the actual passengers, and dug up the cell phone transcripts so the conversations were identical to what actually was spoken that day. So the movie tries, as closely as possible, to recreate what happened on 9/11. But it's not a documentary in the sense that there is no attempt to try and explain or understand or put into context what happened. In that sense, the movie still hews to the oldest of art forms: a story. But herein lies the second irony: the movie tells a story without two central components: there are no central characters, and there is no resolution. So, you see, the movie falls into a grey area. And that is the other reason, I suppose, I appreciated it. I guess you have to see it to understand what I mean. But it's not for everyone, needless to say.

9. A cool site for those of you interested in preserving parts of this country's history/heritage/memory: 11 of the most endangered historic sites:

http://www.nationaltrust.org/11Most/

Note that Fort Snelling in St. Paul, and the lone stairwell of the World Trade Center are two of the sites.

10. Metacritic. Another one of my favorite, nay, essential! websites. As its title implies, this site compiles online reviews of whatever makes you weak at the knees: movies, books, music, DVDs, videogames. Click on, say, Mission Impossible 3, and the site kicks out capsule summaries from virtually every newspaper and online critic you can think of. Not only that, but it arranges the reviews in order from highest marks to lowest and even AVERAGES the scores to give you an overall snapshot of whether critics like or dislike the film (or book, or DVD...) in question. Great site design and an indispensible tool for those who want to be in the know.

11. (I'm feeling generous!) Ping pong, aka table tennis. Played it last weekend with some friends of LeAnn, and within the space of a half-hour I became a ping pong paddlehead. Like tennis, except I can actually keep the ball in play for more than fifteen seconds. Oh, and when I DO hit it into the net or across the living room, I don't feel like my head's going to explode with frustration. Must be those cute little paddles! Must...play...more...ping-pong...

the apple juice diet

2005-11-15T19:17:00.000-06:00

Winter has finally reached out and placed a wet, sloppy kiss on Dubuque...the snow is falling hard and soggy, making for perfect snowballs. And with it comes the flu. I woke up at 4 am Sunday morning feeling nauseous...I spent the next twelve hours alternately vomiting and cradling myself against chills and sweats. I'm lucky...it's been several years since I've had the stomach flu (or "gastro-intestinal virus") but I haven't forgotten just how quickly it can lay me flat and helpless. Very humbling. Luckily, I have both family and friends to look after me when I am down for the count. I don't know what I would have done without them, except possibly be even more pathetic (which I'm not sure is possible!) Since I wasn't able to eat, my entire diet for the next twenty four hours was apple juice, the recommendation of the nice nurse on the other end of the phone. After throwing up all morning, it was the most delicious thing I could imagine.

My friend Kathy, her sister Liz, and Nicky have also contracted this virus within the last two days. Do yourself a favor. Stay home and read a book!

Which is exactly what I did. On Sunday afternoon, when I was feeling strong enough to get out of bed, I hobbled two blocks to the public library (I must've made quite the sight with my extreme bedhead and shaky gait) and picked up a copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, which is being released in theaters this weekend. I'm halfway through the book and enjoying it immensely.

So Sunday was pretty much a wash. On Friday Nicky and I drove to Cedar Rapids, did a little window shopping at Photo Pro, and then met LeAnn and her daughter Maddie for pizza at Zoey's. Zoey's, for those of you who don't know, is a fantastic, unassuming little pizzeria on the corner of downtown Marion, just east of Cedar Rapids. The pizza comes in two varieties: Chicago and New York. I've never had the big apple version (thin crust, of course), but the Chicago style - wow. I know what you're thinking...every Tom, Dick, and Papa John does "Chicago style". Not like this, they don't. I'm not talking about an an overinflated pizza with extra crust. It reminds me of a piece of pie - crust and all ("Pizza pie" takes on a whole new meaning now). Of course, the fact that my stomach and large intestine were trying to forcefully deliver themselves out of my mouth a day later has soured me a bit on the idea of pizza for now.

On Saturday I drove back to Cedar Rapids to spend the day with LeAnn (yes, we're still pretty much a weekend couple - kinda frustrating, but there you have it). The weather was spectacular - in the low to mid-sixties, at least. At Maddie's request, we grilled hot dogs and made macaroni and cheese for lunch, with s'mores for desert. I impressed the ladies with my fire-making skills (sarcasm, people!).

After lunch we headed to the Cedar Rapids Art Museum, where we took in a Grant Wood exhibit (who else?) which focused on his residency in Cedar Rapids. Even though it's easy to grow weary of the Grant Wood-mania I have to admit that he is still one of my favorites, and I relish the opportunity to see his paintings up close and in person. I saw one this time around that I had not had the opportunity to see in person before - Parson Weem's Fable. What's creepy and fascinating about the painting is that Wood decided to paint the young George Washington with the old face of the Gilbert Stuart portrait we all know and love - powdery wig and all.

That evening LeAnn and I went and saw Jarhead, which we both enjoyed. I think I was slightly less taken with the movie simply because I've read the book and couldn't help but draw comparisons. Probably not very fair, because the movie is solid. But it's also a little toothless compared to the book, in my opinion - Anthony Swofford made some very strong anti-war statements that don't manage to find their way into the movie. And even though Jake Gyllenhaal does a good job, he doesn't elicit the sympathy that Swofford manages to capture in the book - the movie doesn't have that autobiographical feel to it. By all means, see the movie - but don't miss the book. Peter Sarsgaard, by the way, is fantastic in the role of Anthony's closest, well, "friend" doesn't really describe it. And talk about cognitive dissonance - seeing Dennis Haysbert, the friendly guy from the Allstate commercials playing a hardass Marine commander was just STRANGE. "Are YOU in good hands"?

articles and links

2005-11-08T23:39:00.000-06:00

There's several interesting articles online lately. One of my favorites is a New York Times travel piece highlighting Portland. I was pleased to see that the article mentions Doug Fir, the restaurant/club that Ann took me to when I was there last month (I told you she was hip!).

Other good things include a Slate tribute to Calvin and Hobbes creator Bill Watterson, and another NYT article that features interviews with several families who have moved from the coasts to the midwest (news flash: people actually live in Missouri! *gasp*)

roadtrip to St. Paul

2005-11-08T20:59:00.000-06:00

Back in the saddle after a short weekend in St. Paul. LeAnn's good friend Shawn was celebrating his thirtieth birthday, so we went up Saturday for the party. Before we hit the party, however, we went out to dinner with Joanna and Michael. After considerable reflection, we decided on La Cucaracha, one of J and M's favorite Mexican restauants in the cities. I had an enchilada with pork and green tomatillo sauce that seared my taste buds in about the time it takes to say "tomatillo"...I must've drank at least five glasses of water!

After dinner LeAnn and I headed to the party proper. I met several of her friends, many of whom were, or are, from Dubuque (Shawn grew up in Dubuque, and his parents still live here). LeAnn's friend Randy lightly grilled me about my background and intentions, which I thought was touching (LeAnn described Randy as "the bigger brother I never had"). I was also impressed by Shawn's music and movie collection. He had a Sonic Youth poster signed by everyone in the band - pretty sweet. As soon as I saw that, I knew this guy was alright! *laugh*

On Sunday, LeAnn and I had breakfast at Joanna and Michael's. Joanna made a fantastic "egg bake" inspired by a recipe from Martha Stewart's Living magazine (I had to laugh at that!). And the bacon was SO good...Michael said it was smoked with applewood. I couldn't get enough!

Overall, I was rather happy with how the weekend went. This was the first roadtrip for us, and I believe that trips can test a relationship and reveal sides to (of?) your significant other that you may not see from day to day. Of course, we made the trip without LeAnn's daughter Maddie so things certainly would have been different had she been with us. And it was a short trip - just a couple days - so it wasn't a big test - not like a weeklong vacation. But it's a good start, I think.

A few cool things I re-disovered this weekend:

1. "I Ran" by A Flock of Seagulls. This was playing on the stereo at Shawn's party. One of the first music videos I remember seeing on MTV back in the day. In my mind, one of the finest slices of eighties new wave. Incredibly catchy.

2. E=MC2 by Big Audio Dynamite. Something - I'm not sure what - reminded me of this song this weekend, which I promptly downloaded from iTunes when I got home. Big Audio Dynamite is perhaps best known as Mick Jones's band after The Clash disbanded. This particular song reminds me of my sophmore year in college (1988-89). It's very clubby, which you wouldn't expect from a former member of the Clash. I probably haven't heard it for a good fifteen years. A great, forgotten song.

3. Ritter Sport Milk Chocolate Bar with Whole Hazelnuts. This is, quite possibly, my favorite candy bar ever. Even better than Skor! It's a German import, so you won't find it at the local Gulp 'n' Blow. I first discovered it when I was in Toronto this summer with Nicky. While in St. Paul this weekend I found it at the REI store, of all places! If you like chocolate, this is the good stuff.

glue guns and gourmet burgers

2005-11-01T20:40:00.000-06:00

Tonight I spent the better part of the evening working on a photo album. Yes, it's true...the same photo album I've been slaving over for weeks. It's just one glue gun short of an out and out scrapbook. To paraphrase my friend Maureen, I'm running the risk of morphing into a soccer mom! Of course, the photos are from my trip to Glacier National Park this summer, so perhaps the fact that the pictures show me scaling mountains will negate the suburban-housewife stigma! And you will not see THIS guy get anywhere near buttons or bows or beads. So let's get one thing straight...this is a PHOTO album, not a scrapbook!

Truth be told, I think I'll be really happy I did this several years down the road. It's a great record of the trip, and I like the fact that I can also include ephemera such as trail maps, business cards, and the like...stuff that usually sits in the bottom of my overfull filing cabinet. It's a hell of a lot of work - I won't lie. I probably spent at least 12 hours putting this mutha together. And it wasn't cheap either. But it's tangible. I like that.

Even though all the pics started out digital, this is the first time I've made an effort to actually print them out and collect them. It's gratifying in a way that sharing pictures online isn't. A different way. It's kind of a shame, really...I have a ton of digital pictures that I really like, but most of them haven't been printed. I need to make some oversized prints and frame some around the apartment. Maybe I'd be more committed to printing the pictures if I was involved in the printing process. But with digital, that's not really a part of the creative equation (unlike film). You either send it to your printer or you send them to someone else, like Kodak or Shutterfly, to print them for you. Not quite as romantic as playing around with developer in a darkroom, to be sure. You don't get that magic moment of seeing your picture emerge from nothingness, like some kind of mystery.

Speaking of mystery, tonight Nicky and I went to Red Robin - Dubuque's newest entry in the "gourmet burger" line - for dinner (see also: Hudson's). I like the place - I went once several years ago in Appleton. The burgers are good, and the atmosphere is bright and exuberant, if a bit on the loud side. But damn - how can anyone justify spending upwards of $25 for a couple of bacon cheeseburgers and a Coke? It's not about the food, clearly. My theory is that it's about the atmosphere and, to a lesser degree, the service. And, I will say that our waitress was very good, which counters the larger Dubuque trend of lousy customer service (a potential rant for another day). Perhaps the Red Robin execs think we're stupid enough to fall for the "bottomless fries" gimmick (bleah!) But whoever's stupid, it's not the owners and managers. The place was packed. Can you imagine the profit margin on an eight dollar burger and four dollar lemonade? Just a little shy of their seven and eight dollar margaritas!

Oh, and by the way, I predict Red Robin will trounce Hudson's when it comes down to the West Side Battle of the Burger. They're definitely more savvy when it comes to marketing. Hudson's web site looks like it was designed in 1994 (their menu accent icons are cheeseburgers, for crying out loud!)

On another note, last night I watched One Day in September, a 1999 documentary about the terrorist attack at the 1972 summer Olympics in Munich. I had read somewhere that Spielberg was making a movie about this, and since I was woefully ignorant of the actual story (I was three at the time), the documentary seemed like a good place to start. I enjoyed it, too, if "enjoy" is the right word. The filmmakers scored a huge coup by interviewing the last surviving Palestinian terrorist who participated in the attack on the Israeli athletes. He comes across as proud and unrepentant. What is more surprising is how incredibly ill-prepared the event organizers and German authorities were for handling the Palestinian terrorists and their demands. Definitely worth seeing.

halloween movies

2005-10-26T22:50:00.000-05:00

Herewith, a short list of my favorite horror/suspense movies, just in time for Halloween. Some people think horror movies are all gorefests, but I think there's actually a lot of variety within the genre. Of the titles on my list, some scared the living daylights out of me (Alien). Some were genuinely creepy without resorting to gratuitous violence or people jumping out of shadows (The Vanishing). Some are nightmarish in form and structure (Jacob's Ladder). And some have images that have burned themselves into my brain (Halloween, The Exorcist, The Thing).

Probably the first scary movie I remember at all was The Exorcist. I only saw parts of it on TV at my grandma's house back when I was eight or nine years old. I desperately wanted to watch the movie, but it was difficult with a bunch of meddling parents around who definitely did not approve! I seem to remember telling my parents, who were in the kitchen at the time, that if they heard any screaming, not to worry...it was just the TV! (that strategy didn't work too well, if I recall...)

Feel free to dispute or suggest other titles...

1. Halloween
2. The Exorcist
3. The Thing (John Carpenter)
4. The Fly (David Cronenberg)
5. Alien
6. Dawn of the Dead
7. The Vanishing (Dutch version - NOT the Jeff Bridges adaptation)
8. Jacob's Ladder

weekend recap

2005-10-25T19:57:00.000-05:00

Friday I had the day off for "tri college day" - a day when the three local colleges - Loras, Clarke, and UD, in a rare demonstration of unity - decide to cancel classes (why, I'm not sure...but I'm not complaining!) As it turned out, Friday was a glorious autumn day - blue skies galore. Nicky and I spent the better part of the afternoon outside shooting the fall colors, first at the arboretum, then at the Swiss Valley Nature Preserve. At Swiss Valley, I ran into Gerry Zuercher, an environmental science instructor at school. He and a student were trout fishing, and as I walked up to chat I noticed Gerry was gutting a small trout. Of course, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to snap a few shots...this was much more interesting than a bunch of old trees! Nicky, on the other hand, kept her distance!

After the hike I met LeAnn at my place, and we drove to Galena to visit the Galena Cellars. Tucked inside the massive flood walls that stand at the entrance to Main Street, this was one of the few shops I had never set foot in. The shop sells wines made locally. As you might guess, a great number are of the sweet variety, although they also had a good number of dry and semi-dry reds and whites. These are made from grapes and juice from across the US, although there is a vineyard near Galena that also grows grapes. LeAnn had regaled me with tales of generous samples - half a glassful, six for 2 dollars! - but once we bellied up to the bar, the reality was more quotidian. Even so, I had a blast selecting six wines to sample from the list of two or three dozen varieties. We eventually took home a bottle of dry white wine that was quite tasty - not too sweet or cloying.

For dinner we walked down the street to Cannova's, which is hands-down my favorite restaurant in Galena. It's a charming little pizzeria - there was a group of people standing outside the doors at 5 pm waiting for it to open. What's funny about Cannova's is that I grew up on it - there was a Cannova's in Freeport in the late seventies (still there for all I know), and my father - a lover of pizza and passionate about places he thought did it right - would take my Mom and I there often. I don't remember much about the place in Freeport, other than it lacked the linen tablecloths and candles that the Cannova's in Galena currently sports.

On Saturday my friends Maureen and Joe and their son Killian came by to visit. I had a mortifying moment when, while introducing LeAnn to Mo and Joe, I managed to temporarily forget her name! And as scary as that sounds, this also happened one other time with someone else I was dating for six months. I have no good reason to explain this (and yes, I did mention this after the fact to LeAnn...she was very gracious!). Someone - anyone - please shoot me if it happens again.

Later that night LeAnn and I went to see A History of Violence. I thought it was ok - good if you're looking for an entertaining thriller, but not as innovative as I thought it was going to be. The acting was great - William Hurt and Ed Harris were terrific bad guys (for some reason I confuse Ed Harris with Jon McCain - why?), and Viggo Mortensen did a great job shedding his image as a Lord of the Rings prince-geek. But I have high expectations of director David Cronenberg. His remake of The Fly is still one of my favorite horror movies, primarily for the utterly bleak and unsentimental ending - one of the best of all time, right up there with Vertigo, Chinatown, and Menace II Society (that would be a great discussion thread sometime...best movie endings of all time!)

giving back

2005-10-19T21:59:00.000-05:00

My cousin Stuart wrote a wonderful blog recently about a book called The Boxcar Children (see Sept. 29). Stu starts the blog by mentioning that he owes a debt of gratitude to the writer, who managed to capture the interest of his son who, up to that point, had shown little interest in reading. And when I think about it, I feel the same way...I am so grateful to all of the artists, musicians, writers and filmmakers who have moved me in one way or another over the years.

For too long, I have been a passive consumer, content to read the books, watch the movies, and listen to the music. It's ironic, because when I was younger, one of my favorite things to do was draw. I could entertain myself for hours drawing - mostly airplanes, rockets, and spaceships. And, what's more, I *loved* art class. Some of my most vivid memories from elementary school involve art projects I was especially proud of, like the purple mountain I painted in fifth grade, or the linocut of Mario (from Mario Brothers) when I was in seventh. I also had quite an opinion about what I liked and didn't!

Looking back, it seems obvious that art was going to play a major role in my life somehow. But then, at some point, I discounted the possibility that art could translate into a career - I think it was around eighth grade. I haven't spent too much time thinking about why this happened, although I can speculate: no-one actively encouraged me to think in those terms; I didn't personally know any artists or musicians who could serve as a role model; I had friends my age who I considered more talented (One of my friends, Jim, had a preternatural ability to draw airplanes in glorious detail, and he made the most amazing, imaginative things out of legos. He had what Howard Gardner would consider "spatial intelligence" in spades (Gardner being the author of Multiple Intelligences). Jim also happened to be a huge ass most of the time. But a very talented ass! I was, needless to say, green with envy.

It wasn't until graduate school - when I decided to pursue a career as a museum curator - that I decided I could make a living by studying art, taking care of it, and sharing it with others. This was my compromise with myself - my way of involving myself in the art world, but in a scholarly, "serious" way. I didn't think of it in those terms, of course. At the time, I thought I was pursuing my dream. But only a few years after graduating from KU, I realized that I had misjudged myself (what a bad feeling that is). My passion did not lie in studying art (even though I loved it), or working in a museum. It was *doing* it - actively participating in the creative process. It took me several more years to own up to this realization and give up my job at ExhibitsUSA.

I'm disappointed that it took me so long to figure this out. And I'm still not making a living by being creative. However, I do get my fix on the side with photography, web page design, and even this blog. I know now that it's not about making a living (although that would be nice, and I still consider going back to school for graphic design or architecture). Rather, it's about giving back to the world. That was Stu's conclusion on how we repay our debts to the artists and writers we love. I totally agree. This perspective is incredibly liberating for someone like me. So it seems I owe a debt of gratitude not only to all those artists and writers, but to Stu as well.

I also realize, in reading Stu's entries, how lopsided and self-centric (is that a word?) my life is...the life of a 36 year old bachelor. No wife, no kids, no house. I am blessed with my family and friends, of course, and I do not mean to belittle their place in my life. But I also feel restless...I'm ready to get married and, God willing, have a family. I sincerely hope that it happens someday - hopefully sooner rather than later - but I also recognize that I'm still single, at least in part, because I've made some poor choices in the past *and* I'm very picky. It's true. I admit it. Not sure where that leaves me now, but I do have faith that I get what I need when I need it. How's that for optimism? :-)

E.V.O.O.

2005-10-18T21:35:00.000-05:00

I am wiped. Long day at work...seemed like anything that could go wrong, did. Fortunately, there was a silver lining. Paul and Amy invited Nicky and I over to their house for dinner. Mary Anne was there, too. It felt great to unwind and relax among friends. What a blessing.

Here's an interesting article about Rachel Ray in the New York Times. I didn't know that she has no formal training as a chef, much to the chagrin of professional cooks everywhere. Goes to show you where personality will get you! I'm not one of the slobbering hordes of men who find RR "hot" (although, again, I was surprised to find out she's 37!) I DO think that she's photogenic, full of perk, and appealing to people who want to making cooking a part of their lives without dedicating their lives to it. As the New York Times article points out, her appeal is not about fancy dishes. She represents the idea that you can make a good meal without exotic ingredients. Maybe not in thirty minutes, as her show promises, but close. This is the same philosophy that Mark Bittman, writer of my favorite cookbook, promotes in "How to Cook Everything." I like that concept. What I don't get is why the NYT decided to print such an unflattering photo of her with the article. She looks like a vampire!

Time to play Katamari...

ghost stories

2005-10-17T21:20:00.000-05:00

Just finished uploading the photos from my trip to Portland, Oregon. I'm happy with how they turned out, although I wish I'd taken more people pics in retrospect. I struggle with portraits - I think I'm too self-conscious, perhaps, when taking pics of people I don't know well. It's so intimate! At least, it feels that way when I take pictures (get your mind outta the gutter!) I suppose that's because I eschew the standard group pose and go for the small moments when people have their guard down, if that makes any sense. Anyway, the upshot is that I have very few people pics in the bunch, and I wish I'd taken more.

I still have my cold. Still coughing, blowing my nose, and generally sounding miserable, like a hoarse zombie. I bought some cold medicine at Target last week and had to have my driver's license scanned to make sure I wasn't a meth addict before I could make the purchase. What I want to know is, does this affect my credit report? *laugh*

I'm contentedly munching on a landjaeger that I picked up yesterday at one of my favorite places in the world, Baumgartner's Cheese Store and Tavern in Monroe, Wisconsin (landjaeger is a spicy sausage stick, not unlike a Slim Jim, but much, much better. The word is German and means "land hunter"). The weather was so spectacular yesterday that I talked Mom and Nicky into making a roadtrip with me. Baumgartner's is a family tradition - I've been going there with my family for as long as I can remember, and I think my Mom and Dad have been as well. The place was packed yesterday - I was surprised, since it was Sunday afternoon and I didn't expect much of a crowd. I mentioned this to my Mom, who said that she remembered when the only people you'd find in the bar were four old guys playing euchre in the corner! The place opened in 1921, and I swear the place hasn't changed a bit since then (not that I'd know...). Among its charms: an oversized mural of Switzerland that details the demographic and religious composition of each state in the country; a painted coat of arms for each county in Switzerland; a mounted fourteen point buck (if I remember correctly) hanging above the bar, with a sign that painstakingly details the day, time, shooter, location, and gun used; and, of course, the "almost world famous" cheese sandwiches served on wax paper.

After we had our fill of sandwiches and chili, we went to the Swiss Colony outlet, where Mom stocked up on petit-fours, and Brennan's, which is a kick-ass grocery store that has a fantastic selection of local produce, cheese, beer, and even maple syrup (yum!)

Working backwards into the weekend, LeAnn came by on Saturday evening and joined my Mom and I for dinner at my place. I always get the urge to cook when the leaves start to fall, so for dinner I made cream of butternut squash soup (the secret ingredient are granny smith apples). LeAnn brought over a pie AND pumpkin bars, grossly flaunting my request for chocolate! I didn't complain, though...the pumpkin bars were delicious, even if they weren't homemade! (Not that I would've known...LeAnn brought them in a pyrex container at the behest of her grandma, who told her that it wasn't acceptable to bring the bars in a box from HyVee!)

After dinner, LeAnn and I watched Sideways, which I very much enjoyed a second time around, and then played a little Katamari. Have I mentioned I'm hooked? There is something incredibly satisfying about rolling up a cow, dolphin, or pile of firewood!

To be honest, I can't remember what I did Friday night. Oh, I remember...I watched Shane! What knocked me out about the movie was the scenery - specifically, the Grand Tetons. They make a breathtaking backdrop to the drama.

And last night, I watched Solaris. You may remember the movie - a few years ago Steven Soderbergh and George Clooney remade it (with a resounding "thud" at the theaters). I watched the original version, which was filmed in Russia in 1972. I saw the Clooney version when it came out, but I enjoyed the original more. A lot of critics have dubbed the movie the Russian answer to 2001: A Space Odyssey, but J. Hoberman of the Village Voice mentioned that the movie actually has more in common with Hitchcock's Vertigo, and I agree. In a nutshell, the story is about a space station in which the crew are suffering delusions and slowly abandoning their posts or committing suicide. A psychiatrist is dispatched to investigate, and shortly after he arrives he encounters his dead wife, who committed suicide ten years before. I won't reveal any more, but I will say that even though the plot sounds like a dozen other "haunted house in space" horror flicks, it is anything but. It's actually a very thoughtful, elegiac rumination on love, dreams, consciousness and free will. Highly recommended.

Strangely enough, I recently finished a book whose themes dovetail nicely with Solaris: Lunar Park by Bret Easton Ellis. Ellis is best known for American Psycho, but this is the first book of his I've read. It's a strange mix of postmodern autobiography and Stephen King horror. The story is told in the first-person by a character named Bret Easton Ellis, and at first the book reads like an autobiography. But the tale quickly turns surreal as he becomes haunted, first by Patrick Bateman, the psychotic killer from American Psycho, and then his dead father. There are a few sections of the book where Ellis (the writer) literally separates from Ellis (the character/narrator), and I found those sections the weakest. But by the end of the book Ellis shakes loose the po-mo trickery and offers some touching and thoughtful passages about his relationship with his father and son. If it sounds unlikely, well, you'll just have to see for yourself. I'd definitely read it again, though.

smurfageddon

2005-10-15T01:11:00.000-05:00

In case you haven't heard already, UNICEF is making headlines this week with a commercial they've released in Belgium that depicts a Smurf village being bombed to smithereens. Yes, you've read that right. According to an article on the CBS website, the intent was to shock a complacent public into supporting a UNICEF initiative to assist ex-child soldiers in Africa. As you can expect, it's getting quite a reaction. Apparently we've become so complacent and inured to images of suffering and violence that it takes a smurf armageddon to stir our sense of right and wrong. How sad.

You can see the video here.

home again

2005-10-11T21:20:00.000-05:00

There are few greater pleasures than returning home after an extendend absence. I'm comfortably ensconced in my bedroom once more, feeling quite content. The trip home yesterday was unremarkable, if long. I read an entire book on the return flight - Cormac McCarthy's No Country for Old Men. It's somewhat of a departure from his existential westerns - this is more along the lines of existential pulp fiction. The basic story is a tale of a man named Moss, who finds a suitcase full of drug money and claims it as his own, thereby setting off a chain of events with disastrous results. I loved it - once again McCarthy has written one of the most compelling and frightening villans in modern literature - this time a man named Chigurh. And the dialogue just sings. Take this passage, when Sheriff Bell arrives at a crime scene with multiple bodies...

Wendell leaned and spat. Somebody's been here before us.
I'd say so.
You think he was packin the money?
I'd say there's a good chance of it.
So we still ain't found the last man, have we?
Bell didn't answer. He rose and stood looking out over the country.
It's a mess, aint it Sheriff?
If it aint it'll do until a mess gets here.

p. 75, Knopf Advance Reader's Edition.

Can't you just hear Clint Eastwood spitting that out? Thankfully, the book made the time pass quickly and took my mind off the people who managed to recline their seats within a hair's breadth to my nose. Well, I could be exaggerating. But only a little.

I'm dog tired. I must've caught a cold on my way home last night, because my sinuses were so congested last night I could hardly breathe. It's a strange thing, to sleep with your mouth open. I'm not too keen on it, so I didn't sleep very well last night. Alarm went off at 7:05 and I don't think that I pulled myself out of bed until nearly 7:30. The pills I took for my allergies last night didn't help a bit, so I figure these are some Texas germs I picked up while eating an overpriced personal pan pizza at the Dallas-Fort Worth airport. I hope it passes soon. I need all the energy I can muster to get back in the saddle.

I downloaded the pictures I took while in Portland...not as many as I usually take, but I was happy with how they turned out. Here's a sampling.

The airport terminal in Moline.

Downtown Portland.

Portland Community College.

Mural at Rocco's Pizza.

so very milquetoast

2005-10-09T13:04:00.000-05:00

Once again, in-between sessions at the conference. Just got out of a session about student response systems (SRS for short). These are little remote controls that are handed out in a class for dynamic poll-taking. The faculty asks a question, and the students reply using the clickers. The responses are tallied automatically and the students can see the results on screen as they are clicked in. I wasn't too keen on the idea in theory, but using it is another story...the instant feedback really does have a "cool" factor, and the presenter mentioned that this is a great way to actually discover how many students understand a concept or fact, without being punative.

Had dinner last night with Ann, which was awesome. She took me to a restaurant called "Doug Fir". It's very hip - think of a Bob Evans cross pollenated with a northwoods lodge AND a bachelor pad circa 1968! It looked like something out of a Daniel Clowes comic. I loved it.

Ann also introduced me to an incredible PS2 game called Katamari. All I can say right now is that I'm going to be utterly hooked. Curse you, Ann! *laugh*

random observations

2005-10-08T16:11:00.000-05:00

Random observations in Portland.... (aka, "Signs I'm not in Iowa anymore")

1. "Outdoorsy" people are the norm, not the exception. And "outdoors" is not synonymous with "guns"!

2. There are sushi bars in the malls.

3. Caesar salads come with whole leaves of romaine lettuce and are topped with little sheets of parmesean cheese that look like blankets (at least at Pazzo's).

4. No-one carries an umbrella, even when it rains.

warm fuzzies for portland

2005-10-07T17:19:00.000-05:00

It's Friday afternoon, about 3:30 pm Pacific Central Time, and I'm in between sessions at the CCUMC conference in Portland. I feel just a little guilty that I haven't had any time to post anything for the last few days, but it's been insanely busy, getting ready for the trip and all the preparations involved with leaving work for a few days, especially considering this is homecoming weekend (and yes, I feel guilty about that, too!) But I also miss posting short (ok, rambling) blogs each day...I think I'm getting addicted to this!

So, long story short, I'm in Portland for the next several days, meeting with over two hundred other media specialists from colleges and universities around the country. Can you say A/V geek central? *laugh* It's a fantastic group of people and the event organizers do a great job of scheduling helpful, interesting sessions. It really recharges me, professionally. I'm taking notes like a madman.

Yesterday was a long day. I rolled out of bed at 3:30 am and my Mom drove me to the Moline airport for my 7 am flight (yeah, she's a saint!). I had two connections - one in Dallas/Fort Worth, and the other in Oakland. I didn't see much of Dallas but I was keen on their little train that shuttled people from one terminal to the next. Reminded me of that train on Mr. Rodgers. I had more time to kill at the Oakland terminal - that's where I had a highly mediocre burrito for lunch. Why in the world are there no good, fast food restaurants in airports? I'm thinking of Chipotle Grill or Noodles and Company. Mmm....noodles...

Anyhoo, I'm keen on Portland. The airport was a dream. They have information desks with people who are extremely helpful and friendly. The luggage arrived at the carousel no more than five minutes after I stepped off the plane. And to top it off, my bag was the second piece of luggage out of the carousel chute! *laugh* As if this wasn't enough, the light rail system is awesome. I grabbed a train from the airport to my hotel for $1.80. You can't beat that with a stick. Oh, and did I mention that the airport is extremely clean? A few more days here, and I may not want to return! I'm meeting my cousin Ann tomorrow night for dinner - I'm looking forward to it.

shiny red vinyl booths

2005-10-02T01:42:00.000-05:00

It's 1:45 a.m. I should go to bed. But I got back from Cedar Rapids about a half hour ago, and I'm still jacked up from Coke (cola, that is!). I figured if I'd write a while, I'd eventually fall asleep!

I'm listening to the Eels newest album, Blinking Lights and Other Revelations. I thought it would be a downer, but it's surprisingly light and catchy, musically speaking. Lyrically, it's full of painful moments, but there are also jubilant songs to temper the mood. Some songs that may be about E's father are especially memorable. When I listen to the record, I get the sense that I'm reading someone's letters. I'm digging it.

LeAnn and I went to the Amana Colonies today for their annual Oktoberfest festival. It was warm - very warm - and I was feeling a little fuzzy - probably from staying up late the night before (stupid blog!). We had lunch in a large barn with a polka band playing in the background. The average age of the audience was roughly 20 years older than myself, but I enjoyed the older gentleman sitting next to me who, upon noticing a fly buzzing around my beer, told me that I should order two beers next time - one for me and the second for the flies! Another person old enough to be someone's grandfather sat next to us and promptly fell asleep. Can't blame him - the brats, beer, and warm barn were almost enough to do me in, too! To to ward off the soporific effects of the meal, LeAnn and I walked to the various wineries in town to sample their wares. Most had the same options - primarily sweet or dessert wines containing the following varieties: cranberry (the universal bestseller), rasberry, dandelion, rhubarb(!), and a few others I'm forgetting. LeAnn tried a pineapple variety that she assured me was as bad as it sounds. I'm normally not a big fan of dessert wines, but I did pick up a bottle of cranberry that I liked.

Other highlights of the day included having dinner with LeAnn's family and friends at the Starlite Lounge (a neighborhood bar where they serve their burgers in wax paper - yum!) and going bowling afterwards. My bowling was embarrassing, but I did hit 112 my first game - quite possibly a personal best! *laugh* Beck's E-Pro was playing in the background, and the song really grabbed me for the first time as I stood over the bowling ball return, waiting for the pins to fall. Don't you love it when you hear a song that you know you're going to love, and it's still shiny and new to your ears?

LeAnn and I capped off the night with some delicious cheesebread at Leonardo's. The place looks like it could've been lifted wholesale outta Pulp Fiction - especially the circular booths clad in red vinyl. I love it - it was a perfect way to wrap up the day.

By the way, why is it that soda tastes better from a soda gun than a can?

autumn music

2005-09-30T23:22:00.000-05:00

A few years ago, my friend Tony - www.fastnbulbous.com - wrote an essay about autumn music that was quite inspired. There are only two times of the year when the season has a tangible musical connection for me: fall and Christmas. And even though it would be easy to list any band or record that has a melancholy air as autumnal, there are only two, maybe three records that truly evoke the season for me.

The first is REM's Fables of the Reconstruction. Tony introduced me to the album our junior or senior year of high school. I didn't think too much of it at first, but the more I listened to it, the more it grew on me. And looking back on it now, the record has a vibe, a mood - whatever you want to call it - that runs through all the songs and draws them together. The whole is greater the sum of its parts. It sounds simultaneously old and new, which is another way to say timeless. Michael Stipe has never sounded so surreal, or wistful. "It’s a Man Ray kind of sky / Let me show you what I can do with it."

Side note: Fables also reminds me of one night back in high school when I met a woman at a party that I fell head over heels for. I can't remember her name, only that she was from out of town (Cedar Rapids or Davenport, I believe - might as well have been Siberia since I had no car). And I never saw her again. I had never dated anyone before that night, but talking and flirting with her at the party - we were completely oblivious to everyone around us - gave me a tantalizing glimpse into what might be (and wasn't). After I came home late that evening, I went into my bedroom and immediately started playing "Life and How to Live It" from Fables. I don't know why (I still don't), but every time I hear that song, it reminds me of her.

The second record is U2's The Unforgettable Fire. Recorded before the band became bona-fide rock stars with The Joshua Tree, this record also has a vibe which I credit, in part, to producer Brian Eno - the modern father of mood music (aka "ambient" - Eno is same man who made a record called "Music for Films" in 1978). And again, like Fables, the tone of the Unforgettable Fire is nostalgic and plaintive. Bono's lyrics have never been so impressionistic, so evocative. I love the first stanza of "A Sort of Homecoming":

And you know it's time to go
Through the sleet and driving snow
Across the fields of mourning
Light in the distance

And in the second stanza, a fantastic simile:

The city walls are all pulled down
The dust, a smoke screen all around
See faces ploughed like fields that once
Gave no resistance

There are many other records that could just as easily qualify as autumnal - Bob Dylan's Time Out of Mind, New Order's Movement, The Cowboy Junkies' The Trinity Session, Portishead's Dummy...the list goes on. But these two crystallize the season, for me at least.

Tim O'Brien banned in Solon

2005-09-29T21:10:00.000-05:00

The Des Moines Register reported today that the Solon (Iowa) school board has decided to remove one of my favorite books from the curriculum of their eighth grade students - Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried. According to the article, the administrators felt that the material - short stories about the US occupation of Vietnam - wasn't appropriate for the students. It's a shame, because it's an incredible book that piqued my curiosity about a war - and an era - that I was never remotely curious about before. And I'm wracking my brain trying to think of what would be so objectionable about the book's content that any average eighth grade student hasn't seen in any typical Hollywood blockbuster. Oh, on second thought, I think I know: beauty and truth. Of course!

Perhaps this is what un-nerved the school board in Solon:

"A true war story is never moral. It does not instruct, nor encourage virtue, nor suggest models of proper human behavior, nor restrain men from doing the things men have always done. If a story seems moral, do not believe it. If at the end of a war story you feel uplifted, or if you feel that some small bit of rectitude has been salvaged from the larger waste, then you have been made the victim of a very old and terrible lie. There is no rectitude whatsoever. There is no virtue. As a a first rule of thumb, therefore, you can tell a true war story by its absolute and uncompromising allegiance to oscenity and evil." (from "How To Tell A True War Story")

O'Brien was a soldier in Vietnam during 1969 and 1970, so he knows whereof he writes. But it's not simple reporting; O'Brien is a master storyteller. His stories, written in the first-person, blend truth and fiction, biography and fantasy, in a way not unlike Milan Kundera. Sometimes the story-truth, O'Brien writes, is more real than the happening-truth. You want to believe that everything he's written is true, but like a magician, he never reveals his hand.

The Things They Carried is a testament to what art can attain: transcendence. "But this too is true: stories can save us," O'Brien writes in "The Lives of the Dead." And when I finished that story, I believed. That is the highest compliment I can pay this, or any, writer. What a shame that the eighth grade students at Solon won't discover that as well.

don't piss off the giant squid in the corner...

2005-09-29T20:51:00.000-05:00

You may have heard recently in the news that some Japanese scientists have finally photographed the mysterious giant squid -- "in it's natural habitat!" The photograph I've seen posted on the New York Times is lousy... it looks like something an eight year old with dubious Photoshop skills could come up with.

But at least one good thing has come of this...a hilarious article by Grady Hendrix which warns of the dangers of pissing giant squid off. Don't say you weren't warned!

you're a beautiful genius

2005-09-28T22:19:00.000-05:00

One of the very few websites that I subscribe to is Rob Brezsny's Free Will Astrology. Not because I put a lot of stock in astrology - not the predictive kind, anyway. But Rob's spin is not like anything you've likely read before. His philosophy:

"Evil is boring. Cynicism is idiotic. Fear is a bad habit. Despair is lazy. Joy is fascinating. Love is an act of heroic genius. Pleasure is our birthright."

Here's a segment from an interview with Rob by Glen Starkey of the San Luis Obispo New Times (excerpted from Rob Brezsny's weekly newsletter):

GLEN STARKEY: As I read it, your book is about training oneself to see the world through optimistic eyes, to not dwell on the occasional bad thing that happens and instead focus on all the things that go right, every day, all the time. What led you to this idea?

ROB BREZSNY: Let me comment on the first statement. It's true that I urge people not to dwell on the occasional bad thing that happens. However, it's important to note that pronoia doesn't ask you to ignore or suppress your problems. On the contrary, just as pronoiacs retrain themselves to notice and feel gratitude for all the beauty and largesse in the world, they also retrain themselves to see every problem as a gift that is designed to make them smarter, kinder, and more fully alive.

As for what led me to these ideas: I'm a natural-born rebel; I enjoy identifying the conventional wisdom in every situation, and turning it on its head. Today the conventional wisdom is that everything is falling apart, that the world is a terrible place to live, that bad things predominate. The most taboo possibility of all is the idea that the world is full of beauty and that life is on our side. I gravitate toward that perspective because everything in my life has confirmed it and because my job is to do everything I can to overthrow the status quo.

Some may find his ideas naive or flaky. I find them brave and challenging - perhaps because I struggle to see the good in the world, but want to believe in the best. You can make up your mind for yourself by visiting his website here.

fuel to the fire

2005-09-28T19:38:00.000-05:00

Slate submits another perspective on the Catholic Church - gay priests story: http://www.slate.com/id/2127026/nav/tap2/

three songs

2005-09-27T21:10:00.000-05:00

I find myself without anything remotely interesting to say tonight. In lieu of that, I present you, dear readers, with a list of three songs that turned my world upside down when I was a wee lad:

1. Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds (The Beatles). Given the Beatles' stature in the canon of popular music, it's hard to imagine just how revolutionary they sounded to my ears the first time I heard one of their songs. It was 1978, I believe. I was in fourth grade. Growing up in Freeport, Illinois in the late seventies, the Beatles were utterly absent from my radar. My world, musically speaking, consisted of Captain and Tennille (the first album my parents bought me!), The Doobie Brothers, Kiss (my first record was the dubiously titled "Love Gun" whose sexual overtones were utterly lost on me), Stevie Wonder, and Peaches and Herb. I had never even HEARD of the Beatles until I heard "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" for the first time, so I brought no baggage, no preconceptions to the music. And I was hypnotised by what, in retrospect, you could call the psychedelic elements of the song (although at the time all I could tell you was that it was unlike anything else I had ever heard, and yet strangely familiar). I first heard it at a friend's house (the same friend who also gave me a copy of The Little Prince for my birthday). And even though I was dumbfounded by the song, I did not become an instant Beatles fan or even seek out more music of theirs. I was too deep into Kiss at the time, and I moved to a new town later that year, effectively severing myself from my Beatles source! But this does not diminish the seismic impact that the song made on my consciousness when I first heard it.

2. My Sharona (The Knack). I couldn't tell you when I first heard My Sharona, but I can tell you that the song was like crack -- I couldn't get enough! The rhythm section - that unforgettable "boom boom boom BOOM boom BOOM" - burned itself into my brain. I was all of 10 years old at the time. I didn't know the title or even the band's name when I described the song to my cousin Ann, who is several years older than myself and who, at the time, was the touchstone of all that was hip. To my amazement, not only did she know the song, but she owned a copy of it! Desperately, I asked her to play it for me. As I recall, she only played it once which was clearly not nearly enough. I imagine I must've appeared more than a little Gollum-like in my obsession with the song - "Please play my precious one more time!" To be honest, Ann might have played it a few times, but it just FELT like once, I was so desperate! No matter - regardless of the count, I cherished and gloried in every second. No other song got under my skin quite so quickly, or deeply, as that one.

3. Ball of Confusion (Love and Rockets). I first heard Love and Rockets' remake of Ball of Confusion on MTV during 1986-87, when I was 17, and I was instantly mesmerized. I think it was the first time that I heard distortion used in an aesthetic way, rather than a signifier of anger and rebellion, and this was nothing short of a revelation. It was a thing of utter beauty to me, opening up a whole new musical vocabulary - a little like discovering that the alphabet contains another 24 letters! But of course a distorted guitar in and of itself is no great thing. I was also enchanted by the funky, loopy bass, and deadpan vocals which contrasted in a marvelous way with the guitars. What a combination! I was hooked, and once I obtained a copy of the song, I listened to it over and over again, never growing weary of the sound.

Don Adams

2005-09-27T07:15:00.000-05:00

Yesterday Don Adams, star of the sixties television comedy Get Smart, died. Growing up, Get Smart was my favorite comedy - a screwball and goodnatured spoof of the 007 franchise. Don Adams was perfect in the role of Maxwell Smart, a bumbling secret agent. He had the perfect combination of swaggering braggadocio and cluelessness. Don Adams, rest in peace.

poetic justice

2005-09-25T21:13:00.000-05:00

I had it coming. After venting about Kodak last week, I finally found someone who still uses the little order forms for reprinting negatives - our local HyVee (that's the Microsoft of Iowa grocery stores, for those of you scratching your heads!). I was thrilled. Everything was falling into place! Or so I thought...

I picked up the prints tonight, and about thirty seconds after paying for them I sat down and eagerly opened up the envelopes like it was Christmas morning. Lo and behold, I quickly discovered not one, not two, but THREE printing errors. There was a blue line running through one print, another I didn't ask for, and then they failed to reprint one negative I *did* ask for! They corrected their mistakes, of course, but then the cashier couldn't figure out how much to charge me for the prints. I tell you, it makes me long for a professional camera store. What's shocking is they are quickly becoming extinct. If you live in a city less than 100,000 people, you're very lucky indeed if you can find one listing in your Yellow Pages - that is, a listing for a store that specializes in camera gear and printing. I seems as if the Best Buys and other electronic behemoths have swallowed these chaps up whole.

On a more positive note, LeAnn came up from Cedar Rapids yesterday. We had a Guinness at the Busted Lift, and ended up having a lengthy conversation with one of the bartenders who also happens to be in a band. The topic of conversation was "the most distrubing movies ever made." In general, I'm not a fan of the John Waters, shock-for-shock's-sake genre. Most of the movies that LeAnn and the bartender mentioned I had not, in fact, seen - among them, Gummo, The Doom Generation, and anything by John Waters. It occurs to me now that I forgot to mention a recent favorite - Gus Van Sant's Elephant, which is inspired by the Columbine tragedy. What I appreciated about the movie, however, was its steadfast refusal to make sense of the event. There are no heroes, no dramatic arc, no resolution. I want to say that the film is more akin to a poem, riddle, or koan than story. You can keep your incestuous, cross-dressing necrophiliac murderers. The senselessness and brutality of life is far more disturbing in my book.

After finishing our beer, we had dinner at Los Aztecas - my favorite Mexican restaurant in Dubuque (try the enchiladas verdes). And we capped the night off with a little Mario Kart 64 and the Hugh Grant movie About a Boy. It's one of my favorites - the film hits the Hollywood trifecta - entertaining, thoughtful *and* funny! In a nutshell, it's a meditation on bachelorhood and independence. Hugh Grant plays a 38 year old bachelor who "discovers" single mothers as a goldmine of guilt-free, no-strings-attached relationships. Shortly after the movie started, it dawned on me that this may be sending the wrong message to LeAnn! (a single mom herself). I've said it before and I'll say it again: no matter how old you are, going on a date with someone is always rich in opportunities for faux pas, gaffes, and miscommunication. I suppose that's what makes it so much fun! *laugh*

Continuing the movie vein, tonight I watched Crash, which I really enjoyed. It reminded me of Traffic and Magnolia, in the sense that the movie wove several stories together with an A-list cast that played relatively small roles. The thematic thread weaving the stories togeter is prejudice, but the movie is not, in my opinion, pedantic. I would definitely watch it again, and I'm thinking about lobbying for the movie club at school to bring it to campus. It would be a step up from the Amityville Horror, which is what we screened Friday night!

other people's vacation pictures

2005-09-23T22:31:00.000-05:00

I'm babysitting Samantha, my Mom's miniature poodle, this weekend while she's in the Cities. And it cracks me up how, when you take a dog on a walk, they will wait until you're at the absolute busiest intersection before they decide to take a dump. I think dogs do it to get back at their owners. "Keep me locked up all day, huh?"

Kodak is now selling websites for people who want a virtual home of their own to post their pictures. For example, $25 buys you www.kodakpictures.com/mikewillis, or www.kodakpictures.com/kingkong, or what-have-you. I've been mulling this over, since I would like to create a site to post my photos, but don't necessarily want to hassle with creating one from scratch. To get a better idea of what I could expect, this evening I started checking out other people's sites. All you do is enter www.kodakpictures.com, and then add a name of your choosing at the end (the more common the name, the better). And lo and behold, suddenly you're looking at some stranger's vacation photos, out in the world for all to see! It's kinda strange, rooting through someone's memories. Like this chap Stuart. I hate to admit it, but I'm just a little jealous of this rich bastard who's jetting off to Germany, or Australia, or Tokyo at a moment's notice!

And while I'm in such a positive frame of mind, I also have to admit I'm saddened and dismayed by this New York Times article about the Catholic Church's proposal to bar gay men from the priesthood. I know this is an incredibly devisive issue, and part of your position will depend on whether you think that homosexuality is genetic or a lifestyle choice. Personally, I believe that anyone who knows a gay man or woman knows that very few would choose a lifestyle that would make them objects of ridicule, discrimination, misunderstanding and even hatred. I would argue that in this day and age, it's still acceptable to be prejudiced against gay people and overweight people - especially overweight women. Both of those groups grow up learning to hate themselves. Thank you, Holy Roman Church, for bolstering this prejudice against the men who have grown up in your house, devoted their lives to you, and ask for love and acceptance in return.

Yes, the stories about abusive priests are troubling, and yes, they should be held accountable for their actions. But is the answer to ban all gay men? Of course not. These are disturbed individuals who do not represent the whole. Perhaps if the church didn't teach that homosexuality was a sin, then these individuals wouldn't be in such dire conflict with themselves and feel compelled to seek out gratification or release in such inappropriate ways. If what you learn tells you that you should hate yourself for what you are, then of course there are going to be dire consequences.

Why do I care about this? Not because I'm gay (not that there's anything wrong with that! *smile*). It's because I abhor prejudice, plain and simple. I fully recognize that I entertain my own prejudices (especially against Wal-Mart!), so I am not perfect - far from it. But I frankly get angry when people I love are wracked with self-doubt and even hatred because their identity - who they ARE - is considered abhorrent. We all have enough trouble accepting ourselves without one of the largest religious institutions of the world drawing a line around one group and calling them unclean and unworthy. News flash: we ALL are. Get over it and starting practicing what you preach.

recurring dreams

2005-09-22T07:05:00.000-05:00

7:30 am...

I had a dream last night I had to write down before forgot...it's one I've had before.

I was driving around an upper-middle class suburban neighborhood when I heard my father call out. I doubled back, and found him sitting in a lawn chair in the driveway of a small condo. I knew somehow that he was single, divorced from my Mom, and this was his place. It was odd, since it wasn't the kind of neighborhood he would ever settle in. He looked out of place. He also looked different. I think he had a short beard or goatee. I stopped and we talked. I don't remember what we talked about, but I got the sense that he seemed very lonely. And then we were in church, which also was odd, because I can't remember my father ever going to church. It was a contemporary worship service. And then the dream ended. But what struck me most immediately about the dream was the fact that my father was single, and alone. As I said, I've had variations on this dream before, and I'm not sure why. I hope he isn't lonely now.

9:30 pm...

I just spoke with LeAnn about the dream, and had an insight as I described it to her. The fact that my father is always separated or divorced from my Mom in my dreams doesn't make a lot of sense, since they were always together. However, this divorce conceit could be my subconscious mind's way of interpreting of the gulf that now separates me, mom, and Joanna from my father - the gulf between the living and the dead. Separation/divorce = divested from life.

More importantly, I wonder if the lonliness that I sense in my father in my dreams is a projection of my own feelings. I will admit that I don't think about Dad every day, and I did not shed a lot of tears when he died - a part of me was relieved that he no longer had to deal with the pain and suffering of his many ailments. But I also suppose it's entirely possible that there are feelings that are lurking in my subconscious that only bubble up while I'm asleep. If I keep dreaming about him, then something is clearly going on.

rock on, Steve Jobs

2005-09-21T22:28:00.000-05:00

Today my friend Rachel sent me a copy of the commencement address that Steve Jobs gave at Stanford University this past June. It's fantastic. I'll admit - I'm a sucker for these things. Done right, they're an intriguing blend of advice column and personal memoir. Done wrong, they're advice and memoir, minus the intrigue. So if you have any inclination whatsoever, you should definitely check his out. You can find it on Stanford's web site, here:

http://news-service.stanford.edu/news/2005/june15/jobs-061505.html

Kodak woes

2005-09-20T22:03:00.000-05:00

Time to vent!

A few nights ago I went to Target to have some reprints made of some pictures my Mom took at Glacier National Park earlier this summer. I had the negatives, and had written down the ID numbers I wanted reprinted. Normally I would saunter up to the self-service photo kiosk and fill out a small envelope (just slightly larger than a strip of negatives) that has a graph on one side to indicate the number of the negative, the size of the reprint, and the quantity. But for some reason, these helpful little envelopes were missing. Nary a one in sight. I asked someone at the counter if they could help, and they told me to come back later when people who actually knew what they were doing would be available. Yes, that was their actual answer! (Note to clerk: not the best reply).

I had a bad feeling about that response, so tonight, rather than return to Target, I decided to go to Walgreen's instead (this coming from a die-hard Target fan!). And when I told the helpful lady at the photo counter what I wanted to do, she whipped out a blank sheet of paper and stood at the ready, pen poised mid-air, as if to transcribe my last will. "What about the envelopes for reprinting negatives?" I asked. Was I going crazy? Was this nothing more than a figment of my imagination? No! The helpful lady at the counter informed me that Kodak has stopped shipping the reprint envelopes to Walgreens. Why, I asked? She didn't know, but speculated it was to save money (and despite my frustration, I could've hugged her for confirming that I was not going crazy!)

Now, it's probably premature to jump to conclusions, but it does seem a bit ODD that neither Target nor Walgreens have these helpful little envelopes this week. And while this is not, in the grand scheme of things, a BIG DEAL, it definitely is inconvenient if you want to make reprints! Let's just assume the worst for a moment and assume that Kodak HAS decided to stop making these. Why in the world would Kodak want to make it difficult for customers to buy and print MORE pictures? Are they really losing that much money that they need to make it difficult for your customers to order more?

It's possible! As this article in Slate makes clear, not only is Kodak not doing so well, they've demonstrated some pretty poor decision-making skills lately. This is due, in part, to the fact that Kodak was so slow to recognize and embrace the digital photography phenomenon. And this is ironic, because now they are apparently making it more difficult to get reprints from film!

http://slate.msn.com/id/2093512/

Now you may think that this is not a big deal - just write down the numbers already on a sheet of paper and get on with it. But I have a problem with this, because suddenly there's no common understanding that what *I* write down will be what the person at the lab will understand. How do I make it clear that I want two reprints of negative number 6 at 5x7, when I have a second roll of film with negatives sharing the same number? How do I know what my reprint size options are? Do all the negatives get dumped into one envelope, or do I need to fill out one per negative? You get the idea. It can be done, but it will be messy, and I'm not at all confident that I will get what I'm asking for.

Contrary to what I've just written, I have no strong feelings about Kodak. I use their online photo gallery all the time to share my digital pics with friends and family, and for the most part the site works well. But if this is NOT a coincidence, and they really have decided to do away with film negative reprint envelopes at Target, Walgreens, and every other brick-and-mortar store, then someone needs to tell them that making life inconvient for customers is NOT a smart business strategy.

the twilight years of tennis

2005-09-20T06:58:00.000-05:00

There's a fantastic article in Slate that tries to explain why tennis and golf - those two traditionally upper-crust, country club pasttimes, have diverged in popularity. The writer, Field Maloney, argues that tennis, while trying to broaden and democratize it's appeal, is steadily losing viewers and players, while golf, which has made no such attempt, is more popular than ever. Sad and ironic, isn't it? You can read the article here:

http://slate.msn.com/id/2126314/?nav=mpp

paying attention

2005-09-19T21:30:00.000-05:00

Anne Lamott kicks ass. And I say that in the spirit of her book "Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life," which you should go out, right now, and pick up a copy. Yeah, there's a lot of advice for writers in it, but there's also a lot of good advice for anyone who couldn't give a rip about stringing three sentences together. To wit - check out her angle on the subject of paying attention:

"I honestly think in order to be a writer, you have to learn to be reverent. If not, why are you writing? Why are you here? Let's think of reverence as awe, as presence in and openness to the world. The alternative is that we stultify, we shut down...I think this is how we are supposed to be in the world -- present and in awe."

Amen! But it gets better...

"There is ecstasy in paying attention. You can get into a kind of Wordsworthian openness to the world, where you see in everything the essence of holiness, a sign that God is implicit in all of creation... Anyone who wants to can be surprised by the beauty or pain of the natural world, of the human mind and heart... When what we see catches us off guard, and when we write it as realistically and openly as possible, it offers hope."

Awesome. And the climax:

"To be engrossed by something outside ourselves is a powerful antidote for the rational mind, the mind that so frequently has its head up its own ass -- seeing things in such a narrow and darkly narcissistic way that it presents a colo-rectal theology, offering hope to no one."

I nearly bust a gut when I read the last line. "Colo-rectal theology" - brilliance itself! This is, perhaps, the most compelling explanation I've ever read for being an artist - writer, painter, photographer, musician - it doesn't matter. And it also summarizes what I find so compelling about some of my favorite artists and writers. Not all, mind you. Not by a long shot. Not a lot of hope in Cormac McCarthy's existential Western dramas. But there is reverence - a deep reverence for the universe, if not our place in it. Same for Edward Hopper. Again, not a lot of hope in those lonely souls he painted. But there is definitely beauty. That was Hopper's brilliance - to find beauty where others would only see despair.

On another note, I'm currently listening to Spoon. The band, not the eating utensil. Their music is difficult for me to describe or pigeonhole, but utterly compelling regardless. You gotta love a band that writes a line like, "every morning I pull on them pants/but I don't get out so much since I acquired St. Vitus dance." (That's from The Two Sides of Monsieur Valenti - my favorite song at the moment). I wish I could explain what it is that I love so much about this CD (Gimme Fiction), but I got nothing. Which, come to think of it, is often true when I talk about music. I'm much more at ease writing about books or art. I think I lack a vocabulary to describe and evoke what I love in songs, and bands, and so forth.

Which reminds me...whatever happened to the band Bauhaus? If I recall correctly, I think they wrote a song called St. Vitus Dance. With all of this eighties revival hoopla, I woulda thought that SOMEONE would be taking up the cause of this neglected band. Seems like they were ahead of the curve with the whole Goth phenomenon. But that's what you get for naming yourself after an obscure German architectural style! Strangely enough, there are some fine examples of Bauhaus (or is it International Style?) domestic architecture in Dubuque, nestled away amid the more celebrated Victorian houses. You'd miss them if you blinked - I had to rub my eyes the first time I saw one. They look like little brick ice cubes. Stop by sometime and I'll show you!

Sunrise

2005-09-15T21:50:00.000-05:00

I've been waking up one hour earlier this week to videotape student ambassador training at school - this is the program that students go through to become tour guides. Can't say that I'm crazy about the alarm going off at 6 am, but it has its perks - specifically, the stunning sunrises. This picture was taken at 6:30 this morning outside my kitchen window, looking east (duh!) over downtown Dubuque. It bothers me a little that the clock tower (that's City Hall) is not perfectly aligned to the vertical...but I can't Photoshop the image from home so it'll have to do.

Finally...photos!

2005-09-08T23:47:00.000-05:00

I'm such a bonehead...I finally figured out how to include pictures on my blog! Here are a few from my recent trip to Toronto for Gary and Dawna's wedding.

The first is from a street vendor Nicky and I walked by in Chinatown...

The second is some graffiti I saw at a bus stop...

And finally, a feeble attempt to capture the beautiful light as the sun set in Indiana on the drive home:

There are a LOT more where this came from. I'm in the process of setting up a website which will allow me to post my favorite pictures for all my friends and family to see. In the meantime, if you'd like to see more, let me know and I'll send you a link to my photo albums at Kodak's website.

can men and women just be friends?

2005-09-08T21:46:00.000-05:00

"When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known."

First Epistle of Paul to the Corinthians
1 Corinthians 13, verse 11

Those of you who know me well may be surprised to find a quote from the Bible in my blog. I have always found this passage especially moving and resonant, however. I first heard it, in all places, in The Crying Game (a movie I still love, even though most people simply remember it for its twist halfway through the film). I don't pretend to have any contextual knowledge or appreciation for the statement as it pertains to the Bible, and I am usually the first to roll my eyes at people - especially art teachers - whose appreciation for a painting or other work of art extends no further than the thing itself (more on that later). Perhaps someone with a greater understanding of the Bible can elaborate on the context in which this verse appears - I have many friends who are more than able!

But on a fundamental level, I love the verse for how it appears to me - a statement both poetic and contradictory. On one hand, Paul appears to say that he's matured in ways that have deepened his wisdom and outlook on life. But just when you think old Paul has everything figured out, he turns around and blows that theory apart. "...now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." Which, essentially, renders us children once again.

The concept of putting away childish things is powerful and more than a little melancholy. I translate that statement into the following equation: wisdom/experience/knowledge = sadness. Remember George Orwell's famous aphorism in 1984? "Ignorance is bliss." Who would deny it? And yet, who would willfully remain ignorant to preserve one's peace of mind or even happiness? I suppose it could be argued that each of us *do* choose to remain ignorant of something we're not comfortable with. We do this in the way we choose to occupy ourselves and focus our energy. But some of us certainly choose to remain more ignorant than others. And I have little patience with those who prefer to dodge aspects of life that make them uncomfortable or threaten to expand their world.

This came up in a conversation I had with Nicky this evening as we discussed the pros and cons of having a friend of the opposite gender. Can men and women be friends? I think they can, although not without difficulty. For Nicky, our friendship challenges her goal to remain pure of mind and spirit until she meets the man God intends for her to marry. Some of her friends have questioned the prudence of our friendship. And I know that I have caused her considerable consternation and trouble. But the fact remains that we both respect each other enough to be honest about our feelings and emotions. And more than that, we challenge each other to consider different points of view and appreciate new things. We have both grown considerably as a direct result of our friendship, and I believe that we only grow as we challenge ourselves and broaden our boundaries. To a certain degree, I also believe that the way you view the world will create the world you experience. If you believe that befriending someone of the opposite sex will ruin your innocence, then in a sense it's already happened. You've become so jaded that you've missed the possibility that someone, somewhere, will add to your life, not subtract from it.

I realize that men and women have different perspectives on this issue. Most women of a certain age - say, in their twenties - believe that men are interested in just one thing. And by and large, this is true. So women, in particular, may be a little more cautious when it comes to the idea of being friends with a man. And I believe this is fully justified behavior. But when someone automatically rules out the possibility without even trying...well, that strikes me as sad and profoundly lacking in faith. If you believe that men just want one thing from you, you lack the faith to believe that NOT all men want the same thing (i.e., you - how egotistical!). And on the other side of the coin, if you're so fragile that you cloister yourself from that which you consider tempting, you lack a profound faith in your own strength.

I've dated many women and have my share of regrets. Lord knows that I caused plenty of pain and had my heart broken in return. This isn't something that I'm especially proud of, but neither am I ashamed. It's simply a part of who I am - the sum of my choices and experiences. My larger point is that through it all, a handful of friendships have persevered. Somehow, some way, I remain friends with a few women who I broke up with, or who unceremoniously dumped me! (hard to believe that can happen, isn't it? *smile*) Granted, this is the exception to the rule. But there are a few who remain because we share a strong bond that transcends sex. All of them are blessings in my life.

This leads me to my second, and last, quote of the evening. Leo Tolstoy once said that "Everyone wants to change the world, but no one wants to change himself." Like the verse from Corinthians above, the first time I read this it struck a deep chord within me for reasons I didn't entirely understand. In the context of this blog, however, what I appreciate is Tolstoy's suggestion that changing yourself CAN change the world, albeit in a completely different way. And that, my friends, is a very powerful and optimistic message.

acquired tastes (roast beef and mixed metaphors)

2005-09-05T22:18:00.000-05:00

I was in St. Paul over Labor Day weekend, visiting Joanna and Michael. It was a very enjoyable break after the first week of classes. On Saturday night Michael and Joanna grilled steaks. Matt and Mark joined us, along with their girlfriends and Fitz. Dinner conversation was so entertaining - it's such a constant revelation to meet others who are also interested in the geeky, esoteric books, movies, and music that I love. We debated the merits of the Da Vinci Code and Jim Jarsmusch movies. Adrian, Mark's girlfriend, shocked everyone by telling a hilarious joke about Michael Jackson and caviar. I thought Fitz was going to choke on the t-bone he was gnawing on!

Over breakfast this morning, the conversation turned to acquired tastes with regards to food. I could think of two things that at one time repulsed me and now I actually enjoy: tomatoes and jam. But tonight, as I was putting together a pre-bedtime meal, a third came to mind: roast beef. You have to understand: growing up, I thought beef WAS the five food groups! It's safe to say my father loved beef in all its myriad forms, and brown was the predominant dinner palette. I, on the other hand, didn't see what all the fuss was about. Steak, especially. Burgers were delicious, but the rest of it - pot roasts and steak and the like - was dull and uninspiring. The gastronomic equivalent of a high school history textbook, if you will.

About a year ago, I noticed this floating island in the middle of the grocery store. It's oval, porcelain, inhabiited by one or two friendly people, and surrounded on all sides by fresh mozzerella and hummus and beef sticks, like a delicious moat! As strange as it sounds, I never really paid much attention to the deli counter before. It always escaped my grocery radar. But at some point recently, something changed, and I started to pay attention to the various ham, turkey, and beef behind the glass. And I gravitated to the ham, probably because pulled pork sandwiches with Georgia Mustard BBQ sauce are on my short list of what's served in heaven. But eventually I began to tire of the ham variations, and two weeks ago extended an olive branch to beef, my old dinnertime companion. I brought home half a pound of sliced roast beef, and my God, what a revelation. This was nothing like the steaks, pot roasts, and other brown meats I grew up with. I'm hard-pressed to explain exactly what the difference IS, but my tastebuds are once again in love with beef.

What is it that causes our taste to change? Time, of course, but that does not explain why certain things remain unchanged in our hearts, while others sway from side to side. Food is one example, but I'm even more interested in music, and why certain songs or musicians rise from indifference to fascination in my ever-changing musical tastes. To take but one example, many years ago I bought a copy of After the Gold Rush by Neil Young and was promptly unimpressed. It lay in the dustbin of my collection for many years until one day I pulled it out again, and out of mere curiosity or boredom, I gave it another spin. My reaction was visceral - a genuine Bill and Ted "whoa"! It was as if I heard it for the first time. For reasons I can't adequately explain, suddenly the record revealed a spartan grace and beauty that I didn't hear the first time. Clearly, the music didn't change, so what was it that altered in me to realign my perspective? And why doesn't this happen with other music? I'm convinced, for example, that I will never appreciate The Grateful Dead or 99% of folk music. Perhaps this is just my prejudice, but I have sat down with an open heart and really not liked people like David Wilcox, truly and without any malice. I suppose it's all a part of the mystery of life, and what keeps things interesting.

My theory: seems like there's, oh, 25% of us that never changes from the moment we're conceived to the day we die. Let's call that our soul. And then there's the other 75% which is open to influence from everything around us - our friends, the radio, what-have-you. I call that the soul-frosting. The frosting is open to influence, but the cake (i.e., the soul) never changes. Ok, so it's not a perfect metaphor. But you get the idea. David Hume, stick that in your pipe and smoke it!

"sloppy joes aren't fun"

2005-08-29T22:36:00.000-05:00

Unwinding tonight, I threw in a Simpsons DVD and came across a quote that made me laugh almost immediately. From the episode "Bart's Inner Child":

Homer: OK, the trampoline was a bad idea. But you know what? At least I'm out there trying new things. If it were up to you, all we'd ever do is work and go to church.
Marge: That's not true.
Homer: Name one thing you've done in the past month that was fun.
Marge: I can name ten things! Uh...I made sloppy Joes!
Homer: Pbbt...That's not fun.

(Quote courtesy www.snpp.com)

I don't know which is funnier - the fact that Marge thought making sloppy Joes was fun, or that Homer didn't! Simpsons comedy at its finest. And just what I needed to relax.

It's been a crazy weekend. New student orientation was Friday and Saturday, and today was the first day of classes. It's difficult not to get a little nostalgaic at this time of year, seeing the new faces and remembering my own first days of finally being on my own at school. By and large, I think things are going well. We had scheduled two orientation sessions with the new students on Saturday, to get them logged into their accounts and get them started with email, that sorta thing. However, we had so many students show up that Paul and I actually led four sessions instead of two! All told, we probably presented to roughly 150 students, out of an entering class of perhaps 350. Not bad.

Friday night Jud Laipply gave his inspriational comedy routine, which I always enjoy watching, even though I've seen it several times now. Jud's main two points for new students are "life is change" and "power of choice". They may seem like obvious and/or cliche concepts, but his presentation is really well done, and it's perfectly appropriate for the students, most of whom will be on their own for the first time. Life is change is self-explanatory, while the "power of choice" bit addresses the privledges of freedom, and the responsibilities that accompany it. A genuinely nice guy with a great message. His website is here: www.colemanproductions.com/laipply.html

Saturday night the Student Activities office hired a company to set up a huge inflatable movie screen in the quad (yes, you read that right!) and we watched Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I personally love the book, but wasn't sure how broad the appeal would be (or how well the book would make the transition to screen). The Movie Club (which I advise) voted for the movie, however, so it was ultimately their choice, not mine. And unfortunately, it seemed like we had a lot of students walk out during the movie - we had perhaps thirty students left by the credits. While I wasn't crazy about the movie, I think the problem was that the movie's appeal was limited, i.e., towards people that appreciate philosophical, English humor in a science-fiction context! I'm all for expanding the students' horizons with independent and foreign titles, but the new student orientation probably isn't the best time to do that (noting that Hitchhiker's was neither independent nor foreign, but limited in appeal nevertheless). We'll have to discuss this at our next meeting. Two of our other choices were Sahara (which I would've voted for) and Kicking and Screaming.

guitar amps and burritos

2005-08-25T21:02:00.000-05:00

I'm starting tonight just a touch after 9 pm, which should allow me to dump the contents of my brain well before midnight, unlike last night!

Something I realized last night as I was writing - something I remembered, actually...writing is helps me process. When I'm writing, I can turn something around in my mind, examine it, and make connections in a way that I can't do otherwise. And when I don't write, I forget that this is true.

I occasionally wake up with a particular word repeating itself in my mind. Yesterday the word was "festoon". More often than not, the word I wake up with (that sounds kinda strange) is something that I only know the vague definition of. Festoon, I'm guessing, means something like "decorate" or "decorated"... I haven't bothered to look it up yet, needless to say. But why the Sam Hill was my subconscious kicking this word up? I haven't the foggiest idea. If you believe in fate and/or a higher power, you might believe that the word was brought to my attention because it was something I needed to know at a particular time and place. But so far I've had no occasion to dust the word off and throw it into a sentence, and I haven't been invited to any parties where I might conceivably use it in a manner not completely out of context. Take that, Owen Meany!

Back to today. Nicky and I went to Panchero's for lunch for the first time. Panchero's, for those of you who may not know, is a chain restaurant specializing in large burritos made fresh to order. It's kinda like a Mexican Subway (i.e., Subway the restaurant, not subway the public transportation system!) The place bears a resemblance to Chipotle Grill (one of my favorite fast food restaurants), but - in my opinion - suffers by comparison. First of all, it's all about the rice, people! Chipotle uses a delicious cilantro-lime rice in all their burritos. Pancheros uses...I don't know what. It reminded me of Spanish rice. Their brochure *advertised* cilantro-lime, but I'm here to tell you that it resembled nothing of the sort! Second, Pancheros doesn't wrap their burritos in foil for handy and efficient plate-to-mouth delivery. I had juice running down my hand - not a pretty sight! And finally, Panchero's lacks the spicy corn salsa you can get at Chipotle. So, in a nutshell, the place just isn't as funky, or tasty. I'm making a Herculean effort not to make some snide comment here about Dubuque. And by making said comment, I have hereby failed. I should appreciate the fact that we now have something in town that caters to the "big burrito" craze. But as scary as this sounds, I think I'd rather go to Taco Bell!

On another, non-food related note, tonight I went to Rondinelli's to pick up a speaker cable for school. Tomorrow is the first day of new student orientation, and it is, for all practical purposes, the first real day of school. The students will be moving in and I will be running around like a madman, setting up equipment and making sure everything's working. In any case, while I was at the store tonight, I noticed a small Fender guitar amp that had a used sticker on it. It's a Blues Junior tube amp, which is exactly what I was drooling over a couple years ago when I bought my Ibanez jazz guitar.

For those of you who are not guitar geeks, there are basically two kinds of amplifiers: tube and solid-state. Tube amps are, as far as I know, the original technology for amplifiers (think of your grandparents' stereo or TV), and are a big deal for musicians looking for a "warm" tone. Solid-state, on the other hand, seek to reproduce various tones (including the "classic" tube tone) via circuit-boards. Which is better? Depends on what you're looking for, I suppose. I love bright, clean notes - at least when I'm playing. And so when Denny offered to let me take the Blues Junior home for a night to try it out, he didn't need to offer twice.

Keep in mind that I haven't even played my guitar in about 18 months! I was getting burned out on lessons, and had lost my drive to play somewhere along the line. So when I took out my guitars tonight (I own one acoustic and one electric), I was surprised to find that my acoustic was almost completely in tune - incredible - and the electric needed only minor adjustment. I set the amps up side by side and plugged into both. The differences were not dramatic at first. My original amp, a Crate, sounds heavier on bass. When playing scales, the notes on the Blues Junior ring out clearer. The Crate does have a more mellow tone, but that doesn't bother me like I thought it would. It's strange, but the Fender actually sounds louder, even though it's only 15 watts, compared with the Crate's 30 (both have a 12" speaker).

So after farting around with the amps for a good hour, I've decided to buy the Blues Junior and sell the Crate. While I do think it sounds a little better, I also have to admit that I'm a sucker for the idea of a genuine tube amp, and actually seeing the tubes inside gives me a thrill! The amp also has a vintage look and feel which complements the Ibanez (my electric guitar) perfectly. It's superficial, I know, but if there's one thing that's true about me, it's that I'm big on design. Now I just have to find someone to sell my old amp to!

Will this spur in me a renewed interest in playing and practicing? Hard to say. But I DO know that my fingers feel raw!

being a bridge

2005-08-24T22:21:00.000-05:00

It's almost 10:30, and I'm just starting to get my second wind, exactly when I SHOULD be getting ready to go to bed! Ever since I purchased my iMac and DSL connection, I've found myself staying up later and later. Normally I'm doing stupid things...checking my email, reading the New York Times, or adding new items to my ever-expanding wish list on Amazon.com! With Blogger, at least, it feels like I'm doing something somewhat creative for a change...something more than simply clicking and processing, passively receiving. Well, I suppose putting books and CDs in my wish list is an active task, but the only thing it's really stretching is my checkbook!

Anyway, on to more interesting topics. Today was a good day. Second full day of faculty orientation at school, and I received several complements from various teachers regarding my presentation yesterday. I spoke for about ten minutes to the entire faculty about nothing very exciting - policies and procedures for the AV equipment, and updates regarding classrooms I will be upgrading this semester. But the funny thing was, I enjoyed it! And what's stranger yet, it seemed like the *faculty* enjoyed it, too! (at least some of them!) It was the first time I had the opportunity to address ALL the faculty, and considering that they are the people I serve (even more than the students, who benefit indirectly), I was elated to have the opportunity to speak to them directly, all at once.

Anyone who knows me knows that communication is a passion of mine, and I feel especially strong about how a department or an organization provides information to the demographic or public it serves. Or, to put it in other, cornier terms, creating bridges between people, departments, and groups where a gap currently exists for lack of information or understanding. I don't want to brag - and those of you who know me, know I rarely do! - but I really feel this is one of my gifts.

Along the same lines, I'm proud of the fact that I have successfully managed to help facilitate tecnnology orientation sessions for several student groups that have not had any formal orientation in the past, including seminary students, MBA/Masters of Commnication students, and student athletes who have arrived on campus early. There's no good reason I can think of why these students didn't receive training in the past. I think it's just a matter of everyone being so busy and up to their ears in work. And it IS a lot of work to coordinate schedules between departments! But all it takes is one person who cares (and can motivate a lot of other people along the way!) Paul and I gave a training tonight to the MBA/MAC students, and I really enjoyed myself. I get a real charge out of helping the students get on their feet, at least as far as technology is concerned, and answering their basic questions. Lord knows that I am far from the most skilled or technically inclined when it comes to hardcore tech issues. I leave that to the experts - the programmers, network admins, and PC specialists. I'm just a bridge. In any case, I hope that my enthusiasm comes across. Every time I give an orientation, I feel like I get just a little bit better...figure out what's important, what's not, what works, and what doesn't. And the more comfortable I get, the better I become. I hope.

This passion of mine extends to other interests which seem unrelated at first. Take, for example, my interest in writing reviews...just another way of sharing some information about a topic with a group that presumably is seeking some guidance or advice. I've posted several mini restauarant reviews on CitySearch.com, which was a blast. I blew an entire Sunday morning thinking of my favorite restaurants around the country and posting a few comments about each one. It sounds geeky, but it was totally addicting!

Dream jobs I'd take in a second if money were no object: graphic designer, architect (for residential homes or public buildings), travel writer, map-maker, photographer, writer for the New York Times, explorer, business owner (for a creative firm), griller par excellance, movie director, painter/illustrator/artist.

This sounds odd, but I think it takes courage to dream. I think, growing up, I lacked the audacity to really dream. Don't know why. But I do know that I limited my aspirations to that which I felt was practical and feasible. Sensible. I don't feel that way so much anymore. Having limited expectations of the world lead to limited returns. I feel that the world only asks of me what I expect of myself. Having curtailed my expectations, I have suffered from what I feel is a lack of energy directly related (in retrospect) being disconnected from that which I feel passionate about. Of course, I was also naive in thinking that simply "following my bliss" (a la Joseph Cambell) was going to lead to my bliss. Wrong. It's not quite that simple. My new recipe for success is to heed my interests while keeping in mind my skills. It has to be a marriage of interests AND abilities. Maybe it sounds self evident now, but I wish to hell that someone would have taken me by the shoulders before I enrolled in graduate school and told me that. Not that I regret my time in grad school. I loved every minute of it. But if I had been thinking clearly, I would've known that I was not destined to become a museum curator or administrator. I knew this, and yet I didn't heed that knowledge for various reasons. I'm thrilled to be in a job now, where I can experience moments of real excitement and gratitude, like today.

I was wondering how I was going to tie this all together. Kinda cool how these random thoughts came full circle, huh?

Disco Fever, or the power of iron-on t-shirt slogans

2005-08-23T22:25:00.000-05:00

Welcome to my inaugural blog! I don't actually know if that's the correct use of the word "inaugural", or even if I spelled it right, but I liked the presidential zip that it gives my post. A good way to start, don't you think?

I've been mulling over the idea of posting a blog for a while, but finally got up the gumption to do it when I learned one of my cousins has been posting his own for the last month. Stuart is at least ten years older than me, and someone I revered growing up. Well, revered may not be the right word. But there was something about Stuart, and Doug and Ann (his brother and sister) that I gobbled up. They were like the older, cooler brothers and sister I never had (I'm the oldest of two). On several occasions when I was younger (much younger), Doug and Stu (and maybe even Ann!) would chase me around the hour or the yard, taunting me and nipping at my heels until I was completely wasted and breathless. Then, having utterly exhausted me, they would proceed to give me an atomic wedgie of epic proportions. I was humiliated and yet strangely enjoyed their attention.

When I was seven or so, one of my birthday presents was a maroon iron-on t-shirt that I was immensely proud of. This was a t-shirt that I customized and designed myself at the mall, as was the fashion of the day. The decal on the front of the t-shirt was a roller skate, viewed from the front and appearing for all purposes to be on a collision course with the viewer. The graceful arc of a rainbow floated over the skate. Underneath this image was a slogan - Disco Fever, I believe. My name, in the form of big iron-on letters, was emblazoned across my back. And the detail that absolutely made the t-shirt for me - the reason I loved it - were a pair of white, majestic wings that stretched from either side of the skate like a bird in flight. In retrospect, what a surreal detail! But at the time, it was perfect. I loved the t-shirt, not so much for the disco sentiments, but because I was an avid roller skater at the time, and that winged skate captured my passion in a way that nothing else could or did.

And so it was, one day, that my family drove to Madison to visit the family. It must've been shortly after my birthday, because I was proudly sporting my maroon t-shirt. And please understand, I was proud of the t-shirt, but I was not about to go bragging about it to anyone...I was content to let the incredible image of the winged skate underneat a rainbow speak skating's virtues for itself. But no sooner had I walked through the door than Doug or Stu, I don't recall which), took my t-shirt in with a glance and asked me, in that older-brother, slightly bemused way, "Hey, Mike, you like disco?" It wasn't a question so much as an accusation. As soon as the words were spoken, it occured to me that I hadn't given more than a moment's thought to this phenomenon called disco. And yet, there it was, sallying forth from my shirt like some battle cry -- Disco Fever! I was immediately caught off guard and embarrassed. I don't recall if Doug or Stu actually said that Disco SUCKED, although the implication was certainly clear. I was simply left to rethink the wisdom of my iron-on selection, and to ponder the implications of wearing slogans one did not properly heed.

On another, more current note, tonight Nicky and Stephanie and I went to Eagle Point Park to grill some burgers and chicken breasts. The weather was perfect - cool, with an utter lack of humidity. The sun was starting to hit that particular angle where the light slants through the trees at such an angle that the grass looks brilliant green and the light itself is warm and inviting and everything looks like a postcard. I brought some home-made guacamole, which all three of us devoured as we waited for the burgers and chicken to cook. And as we waited, and nibbled on appetizers, it occured to me that the time spent waiting for the meat to cook was always the best part of the meal. At least when we're grilling. Because it's that time when you're focused, and yet free. Focused on a task I enjoy, and yet free to socialize, or shoot the breeze, or whatever. I'm I'm too consumed in a task, I can't socialize. It's not in me. But if I have nothing to focus on, I get crabby. And so grilling, it seems to me, is in some way a weird Zen-like thing for me, by which I can focus and not focus, relax and concentrate at the same time. Is this complete crap? Probably. Do I know anything about Zen? Absolutely not. But it makes a certain kind of sense to me!

And beyond all this zen hocus pocus, I just love Eagle Point Park. It's one of my favorite places in Dubuque, and certainly holds a special place in my heart. Maybe in another blog I'll actually elaborate on what I like so much about it. But not tonight. Suffice it to say that good friends, food on the grill, and Eagle Point Park = happiness. Simple pleasures.