Long time passing...

So it's been a while since I last posted...July or something ridiculous like that. I'm nearing the end of a Teaching Evolution class, and thought I'd post these pictures from Jim Temple in Glendive, where his high school geology class went back into the field and re-found the big bone. Then they cast it in plaster of Paris. Lucky kids.

More later...if you can believe me...

Bonedigger, bonedigger...

Here are some better shots of "the bone", taken by classmate Leslie Karpiak. I plan to get back in the swing of real posts shortly, but for now I'll do a photo post.

Dino Camp

As I begin to write this I realize I've never really talked about how I got myself into this Master's program in the first place. So at some point in the not-too-distant-future I'll need to do that.

Last week, beginning on July 6th and ending on July 11th, I took a class entitled "Dinosaur Paleontology of the Hell Creek Formation", here in Montana. Here is my log of what happened on this trip (some events are sure to be glossed over in the name of expediency, humility, self-esteem, and/or good taste, not necessarily in that order.)

On Monday morning we met outside one of the residence halls, where there were many people. I'd met 11 other classmates of mine for this trip the night before, so I was a little taken aback by the 30 or so people waiting for a van. Turns out the department failed to close the registrations for this class, so they got twice as many students as they normally have: OOPSIE!

We all loaded our gear into a pickup and Frankie's (more about Frankie Jackson later) Jackson's (paleontology professor) camper, and clambered into vans for the ride to Glendive. Remember, Montana is a large state; 4th largest in land area, if my sources are correct. So traveling ⅗ of the distance across the state actually means something from a time standpoint. It means you're going to travel about six or seven hours is what it means.

By the time we rolled into Glendive, we knew each others' life stories, we'd swapped photos, a new administration had taken office…a long time had passed. It was time to stop at Albertson's a supermarket chain out here. Thirty people ran through that place, scouring it for trail mix, beer, snacks, wine, beer, teriyaki wings, and more beer. Turns out a six pack of Fat Tire didn't take me far into the week, and it was Thursday before we re-provisioned. Given what I knew about archaeologists, I expected a beer run every day. I guess paleontologists and geologists are more refined…

From there it was a short drive to Makoshika State Park, where we were greeted by precipitous dropoffs on both sides of the road, and road beds that are impassable in rain because of their mineral composition which turns to a soupy mud, known affectionately as "gumbo". I tried to think how to take some of this clay soil home, so I could demonstrate: the closest I can come is Bentonite. If anyone knows a good source for this, please send it my way.

That night after dinner we introduced ourselves to the group--by Friday I knew most of the names--and how we got there. Then we had a couple of mini-lectures by Frankie and Jim Schmitt, the geologist of the teaching pair, on tephonomy and why it is important to know how a fossil ends up where it is. Think CSI: Cretaceous.

On Tuesday I awoke early to try to get some pictures of the area at sunrise. The sun goes down late and comes up early in these parts, so 5:30 didn't get me up in time for the sunrise, but I did get some pictures of the local flora.

After breakfast we went to the A-Frame at the top of the hill, which overlooks a canyon carved by numerous extinct streams carving into the soil. There we had the first lecture of the week, by Jim. He gave us the background of the geologic deposits visible in the canyon, as well as the time frame we were looking at. In a nutshell, the Hell Creek formation lies just below the layer of coal ("Z coal") that marks the boundary between the Cretaceous and Tertiary (the K/T boundary), which happens to be the time period where dinosaurs are thought to have gone extinct. The lecture was very interesting, and the setting was spectacular, but we all wanted to get out in the field.



After lunch, we did just that: half the group went with Jim, to check out sandstone deposits from a geologic standpoint while the other half, including me, went down the Cap Rock Trail, and then off the trail, down past the K/T boundary, to the bottom of a canyon where we all could have died easily if we'd fallen into mud caves, the walls gave way, it started raining, or someone up above us kicked some rocks loose. It was exhilarating.

The trip down was marked by few finds: a marine mollusk, some leaf imprints in ancient marine mudstone, and a crocodile tooth. Pretty cool, but I was shut out and not feeling to good about it. Then some guys up on a rise at the foot of a cliff said they'd found some bone. On my way up to see what they'd found, I looked down and saw something that looked suspiciously like the vertebrae on the skeleton model at my massage therapist's office. I called Frankie over, and she confirmed my find.
Then I looked about five feet to the right and saw the unmistakable curve of a tooth. At that point, I'm certain a profanity escaped my lips, which started with "Holy". Frankie said it was a shed tooth from some sort of theropod. Had it been a full tooth with the root attached, it would have been much longer, and it would be associated with a skull. But apparently, like most animals, theropods shed teeth and re-grew them throughout their lives. This tooth had serrated edges on it, which probably won't show up in the photos. I logged the information, including the GPS coordinates, of this find, collected the specimens, and we began the long hike out of the canyon.

Tuesday night was another lecture, and Wednesday morning the two groups swapped activities. In the afternoon we hiked out to a spot on the access road where there were abundant fossils of marine plants present. This was fine, but most of us wanted to go look for more bones.

On Thursday we had lecture once more, and then in the afternoon we hiked into another trail where the K/T boundary was very apparent. There, Jim debunked the popular Discovery Channel explanation of the dinosaur extinction, and left us with the impression that we really don't know why there was a mass die-off at the K/T boundary. In a nutshell, the index fossils of dinosaurs disappear three meters below the appearance of the iridium layers that many use to explain the mass extinction event at the K/T boundary.

That night most of us were treated to a performance of "Two Gentlemen of Verona", presented by Montana State University's Shakespeare in the Parks troupe. The performance was pretty good, but I was distracted by the scenery at the park's amphitheater. Some of the younger, more adventurous guys ventured into the canyon by the A-Frame and found a few more fossils. My wife and family are probably glad I chose to watch theater.

On Friday we loaded into our vans and headed to the dump. Well, first we visited the Makoshika State Park visitors center to check out the exhibits (really well done!) and to buy schwag. I did my part for the Montanan economy.

The dump: this is where the excitement happened. The City of Glendive has bought a large tract of land so they can expand the landfill at some future time when everyone has given up on Las Vegas and decides to go there instead. Out in the canyons behind the tire dump is where we were set free to employ our skills. For a good while, I saw nothing where it should have been, but I was excited because I found a cool ironstone concretion that I could keep!

After about an hour of looking around, I came across Joel, my classmate who had an eye for fossils. On our initial venture, he found a leaf impression and the crocodile tooth, and I think another bone. This time when I saw him he was uncovering a wide, thin bone that looked like a scapula. I offered to help him clean it out, and as I was doing that, I looked about four feet off to the right, where I saw a pinkish-looking piece of stone peeking out from beneath a sage. The piece I saw was about three inches tall and two inches across, rounded, with a darker, rougher center and a smoother, lighter edge. The same profanity escaped my lips as when I saw the tooth, and all of a sudden I was digging it out.

Before long, the piece was larger than one of my fists, and it showed no signs of being done. We called for Jim to see if it was anything important, though we knew the answer before we asked.

The rule was that we should only take bones that were diagnostic (either being complete, or being in a place or situation that would give evidence to how it got there).

When Jim showed up, he thought it looked like a vertebra with the processes broken off. I thought it looked like one of the ends of a long bone.


Long story short, the group became more excited as time wore on, and we realized there was quite a bit of bone there. About three inches from the big piece we unearthed, there was a jagged end that was obviously broken off, with dark, crystalline stone inside. There were numerous bone fragments scattered underneath where it broke off, and we kept looking for more bone. We weren't disappointed, as up from the break and to the left was the associated broken end. We kept digging, and unearthed what ended up as a 4-5 foot long bone with two complete ends. It was definitely diagnostic, but we didn't have the time or ability to extract it, and if we tried to carry it out it would be destroyed by the journey. The heartbreaking decision was made that we would have to re-bury it, and keep the coordinates for someone else to come dig it out.

I was on a high from having found it, but hugely disappointed that someone else would return to finish the job. That disappointment didn't last long however, once we returned to camp and talked to Frankie. First of all, from the pictures we showed her, she thought it was the tibia of a theropod (could very well have been a T Rex). Better yet, she told me it is likely a local teacher in Glendive who is a graduate of the MSSE program will take his classes out there to unearth the bone and go through the process of removal. Nothing could have raised my spirits any higher than that: any time kids can learn from what I've begun, I am happy.

We did an inquiry activity that night, and then the mood was festive due to it being the last night of Dino Camp, and the beer stop right after the Glendive Dump. There were five of us who were finished with their MSSE program at the completion of that activity, so we were very happy.

Later that night, we watched the moon come up from the deck where we'd had our first lectures. There were a few people left on the deck when I excused myself and headed back down the hill to bed. The next morning we packed up and were on the road by 8:30 and were back in Bozeman by 3:30.

I hope this post has done justice to the great experience of Dino Camp. I couldn't recommend it more highly.

Westward, Ho!

The last week’s been kind of surreal. I think the van lag has set in, and my mind hasn’t caught up.

If you’ve been keeping up with Life’s Lessons over the past week, then you’re likely aware of the goings-on, but I’ll give my own synopsis here.

On Monday (wow, it was still June then!) it rained. And it kept raining. And we kind of knew Weather Lad’s last baseball game wasn’t going to be played, but we stuck around anyway, in hopes that he’d be able to get one final game in. At 3 pm we received the call that Aubuchon Field was unplayable, and the game would be postponed. Bummed out by that, we put a move on and decided to blow town a day earlier than we’d expected.

It was in my plans to cross into New York by ferry from Burlington, VT, so after bidding our adieus to the Nolette clan, we struck forth on US 2. On our way out of town we went through Rumford just to get a look at the field. It was sodden, and obviously unplayable even if it hadn’t been STILL RAINING...

So it was on to dinner at Crabby Jack’s in Gorham, NH. Lots of tourists trying to stay dry. Not a good time to be camping, motorcycling, or through-hiking. There were a couple of bedraggled AT hikers who I would have gladly given a ride had the van not already been full.

The ride through the rest of NH and VT was beautiful; rain let up and the green New England valleys looked a little like Brigadoon through the mist. We saw a young bull moose shortly after crossing into Vermont, followed closely by a bald eagle. I wondered what seeing them along our trail meant.

After a little bit of being turned around in Colchester, VT, we found the Motel 6 and made small talk with some other people who were headed to Maine from California. I told them I hoped they were bringing the good weather with them. Turns out they weren’t.

We got up and headed to the ferry terminal in Burlington (by the way, a very cool small city. I think we need to go spend some time there) and got breakfast while waiting for the ferry. By about 10:45 we were on the western shore of Lake Champlain, New England at our backs, and all of New York ahead. I planned to travel through the Adirondacks because you only go around once. Now we’ve done it, and I don’t ever need to do it again.

Got lunch at a small place in Russia or Poland, then jumped on 90 somewhere near Utica and headed west. Not a complaint or peep from the kids. Roughly 45 hours later we were in Niagara, and stopped for a couple of hours at the falls. I’d heard the American side was nasty and ugly, and the cities of Niagara and Buffalo really are. But the state park at the falls is very nice, and I much preferred being there than on the casino-and-high-rise-hotel-ridden Canadian side. It was somewhat surprising to see the Canadians outdoing us in ostentation. We decided to push through the remaining section of New York and into Erie, PA, where I knew of a place we could get good dinner along with wireless from our trip last year. I Googled a Motel 6 in Willoughby, OH, and set the coordinates in the GPS. After dinner it was another couple of hours of driving into torrential downpours, followed by eerie clear, until we were finally in bed.

Wednesday, 7/1. The first day of July, a milestone I hate. The road on this day would take us through Cleveland, which, at least from I-90, doesn’t appear to be anywhere near the armpit that Buffalo does. Ohio is pretty flat. And so is Indiana. There are Amish people in both states, and we saw an Amish carriage on one of the frontage roads in Indiana, as we whizzed by at 70 mph. After a meal at a Perkins Restaurant (I don’t really recommend it) in Indiana, we soldiered on to Chicago. Another thing I don’t recommend is Chicago at rush hour. Getting through Chicago took us roughly the same time it took us from Utica to Niagara Falls.

North of Chicago, everything widened out, and we flew by an empty Chrysler plant at about 73 mph. Then we bulled on to Madison, WI, another state capital, where Rach’s mom and uncle both attended UW-Madison. The kids were so incredibly good that we succumbed and let them go for a swim while I scouted out meal options near the motel. Found a franchise joint called Noodles & Company. It was excellent, and I want franchise rights in Maine.

The Motel 6 in Madison, WI is dumpy. Nasty, if you really want to know. Don’t go.

Thursday, July 2nd. I-90 northwest of Madison is really flat. There was a hill, but they seem to have torn it down to make a rest stop. Farther north, there are waterslide parks at every exit, with no discernible population for them to serve. It is weird.

We were once again excited to enter a new state, Minnesota, until I-694 turned into a parking lot. It was not so much fun at that point, as everyone seemed to be headed north and west of the city for the holiday weekend. About two hours from the ND border I decided I needed coffee and Cheerchick needed a new book. I found a Caribou Coffee place while Rach and the kids hit the MallWart. Mission accomplished on all fronts. Fargo beckoned. (You betcha!)

As we rolled into Fargo, we saw a Mexican restaurant, Acapulco, next door. Just what the doctor ordered. The kids went for a dip in the pool while some idiotic waster showed off for his girlfriend by diving and flipping into the 6’ deep pool. I removed myself because I didn’t want to be a Good Samaritan when he broke his neck. Predictably he seemed to have survived because God protects fools and children.

A fine Mexican meal and 2 Pacificos later, I was ready for sleep and a the next day’s long march to Bozeman. No internet in Fargo, by the way, so I had to get the weather report from the Weather Channel. Sorry it’s still raining. Apparently there was state-of-emergency-level flooding in Erie the day after we left. Apologies to those good people, too. We seem to be bringing it with us wherever we go.
Did I say something about Wisconsin being flat? Eastern North Dakota is FLAT. Holy crap. When it floods there, narrow rivers spill over their banks for MILES. No bison, though, except at the bison museum, which disappointed me.

After about three hours on the road in ND, there appeared small buttes, which provided for some relief. Rach took over driving in Bismarck, home of the butte-ugliest (see what I did there?) state capital building in the union. This one appears to have been designed by a depressed Soviet-era architect, circa 1957.

Somewhere west of Bismarck, but before the state line, the time zone changed again, from Central to Mountain. (We entered Central time in Indiana). This made our arrival in Bozeman before dark a much more certain thing.

As the landscape in ND got more interesting, about 30 miles from the Montana state line, we entered Theodore Roosevelt National Park. All of a sudden we were in painted canyons, with wild horses roaming around! It was amazing, beautiful, spectacular, and I now feel as though I need to return to southwestern ND some day. I was hoping that wouldn’t happen.

About half an hour across the Montana border is a small town called Glendive. It is the home of Makoshika State Park. Starting tomorrow I will be there for six days for a class on dinosaur paleontology for my master’s program. We stopped there for lunch just because. Lunch was okay, but nothing to write home about. Across the road from the restaurant where we ate was another restaurant that also contained a hotel and a casino. But the building looked a lot like Coulthard’s Pools. So apparently they can squeeze a whole lot of gaming fun into a small space out here in Big Sky.

I got back into the driver’s seat in Glendive, since Rach doesn’t like the 75 mph speed limit out here.

Another 2.5 hours down the road we stopped at Pompey’s Pillar, where William Clark of Lewis & Clark fame climbed a 200 foot cliff to carve his name in the sandstone on his way home from the coast. I don’t normally condone graffiti, but this is fairly excusable. I’ll probably blog Lewis & Clark later on; I have a lot of thoughts on the subject, but now is not the time.

After Pompey’s Pillar, we heard thunder and jumped back in the car. Immediately we heard a National Weather Service severe weather warning for Billings, about 25 miles east of us. Not only were there damaging winds, hail, and cloud-to-ground lightning, but there had also been observed a funnel cloud touching down. This plains stuff is out of my comfort zone. After stopping for gas in a town that was the Montanan equivalent of Carthage--small population and one gas station that didn’t take credit cards--we saw a pickup truck with an anemometer and other meteorologic equipment stop at an intersection up the road from us. We decided to try to talk with the driver and assess the risk up ahead. But the truck sped off onto I-94, and we did the same, keeping it in sight. That was the only section of road where the speed limit was 75 and I actually sped, figuring the truck was probably trying to find out where the storm was likely to go, rather than going directly into its path. As we headed west, the storm appeared to move south. At times there were ugly comma-shaped clouds, but they broke off and nothing seemed to develop into funnels. We forged on, and as the Rockies came into sight, new energy overcame us. Or else it was the adrenaline rush of New Englanders faced with severe midwestern weather. Whatever.

A couple of times the weather over the Crazy Mountains--I kid you not--looked really nasty, and threatened torrential downpours. It never materialized, though, and after a false alarm of a dinner stop in Big Timber, we jumped back on 94 to finish the last hour to Bozeman.

Bozeman Pass is unreal. On the way up, we kept seeing areas to pull off and put on chains. And we kept ascending. Near the top of the pass is an historical marker for Bozeman Pass. Bozeman was a bit of a scoundrel, and not someone you should name your city after. Nonetheless, the valley below shone brightly, with huge mountains to our south veiled in ominous gray clouds. Our descent into Bozeman felt much like a final approach at Las Vegas: a few turbulent bumps, and really fast. At the first Bozeman exit, we hopped off and found ourselves on West Main St. And the first restaurant we came to was the Montana Ale Works. Think Sunday River Brew Pub in a hip college town. We’ll be going back...

Anyway, Beth and James live about 2.5 miles from there, through suburban neighborhoods. James’ directions were good, and we pulled in at about 8:30 to a power outage. The grass in their back yard was soft, though, and all I needed to be comfortable.

Yesterday, the 4th, can be summed up thusly: two sisters and their high school friend, all of their husbands, and their eight kids, aged 9 months to eleven years. 7 boys and one girl. But Cheerchick had a great time getting acquainted with her youngest cousin. The boys played lots of wiffleball, hooted, hollered, rode bikes and scooters to the Museum of the Rockies, had a full day of gazing at dinosaur bones, made “waterworks” (food coloring dumped into a garden hose and then discharged, giving about 1.2 seconds of colored water), had a cookout, and ended up at a huge fireworks show in the center of Bozeman at 10 pm because that’s when it is sufficiently dark to do fireworks out here.

It’s been a big week, and in about an hour and a half I go to have dinner with some of the people I’ll be living with for the next week: as I mentioned earlier, it’s Dino Camp this week. So I’ve driven 3/5 of the way across the country with my family to spend a week away from them. Seems odd. I’ll try to keep you updated, but have no way of knowing what the internet access will be.

Hope it dries up at home, while I’m in the desert trying to stay hydrated. The irony is not lost on me.

While the Sun Smiles

On the eve of our trip to Montana I leave you with this. If a bunch of pasty-white Irish guys can dance and carry on about the sun like this, then it might bring some sun to this bleak, rainy landscape. Enjoy.

This is the last you'll hear about it here...

...but in 1985 you never could have told me Farrah Fawcett would have had a larger positive impact on humanity than Michael Jackson. I thought the moonwalk would change the world. I prefer to think of him as the ten-year old singing "I Want You Back". I suppose there was a lot of inappropriateness in his life.

And then, there was Farrah, whose greatest contribution seemed to be her hair, until she contracted cancer and was a gracious voice of awareness for the world. Life, and death, is strange.

I forgot how much I like taking pictures.

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon, I had just charged the battery for my digital camera, and I thought to myself "Hey, I haven't taken any pictures of plants lately"...

the first to catch my eye was one of the irises...


then it was on to the garlic (yes, I'm still offering a garlic primer in the fall, and I'll likely blog the harvest and some of the preparation again this year...)


On to the daisies, which have just popped out recently:



And finally, out back to the garden. I like the geometry of the beans. I took some interesting ones of pea blossoms, too, but my camera's resolution isn't the best so I've left them out. I'll use Rach's camera next time so they'll look good even close up.

Wonderlick's "Topless at the Arco Arena"

I've waxed not-so-eloquent about Too Much Joy, and, to a lesser extent, Wonderlick from time to time. Wonderlick's new album is streaming on their website right now, and pre-sale has begun. You can check it out here for free, and if you hate it that's fine. But if you like it enough to order it, could you tell me 'cause I'd love to know that I'd converted someone.

07.08.09

So today we were taking water samples in class, and I was explaining how important it was for the information my students wrote on their data sheets to be accurate. The idea is that I am starting my students on periodic testing of the same stream that borders the schoolyard, and all of their entries need to have the proper date and time to keep them valid.

That is nowhere near the point of this post.

I told them the date, 6/8/09, and noticed, "Hey, that's almost 7/8/09! Next month we're going to have to celebrate 'Why was 6 afraid of 7? Day' " A couple of kids got it. Then I explained it, and I couldn't believe there were kids who: a) didn't get it or b) never heard the joke before. So in case you missed it the first time, here is the 2nd grade joke:

"Why was six afraid of seven?"
"Because seven ate nine!" (7, 8, 9 or 7/8/09...and the kneeslaps ensued.)

So, spread the word. A month from today is National (or International) "Why Was Six Afraid of Seven? Day". I won't be around to blog it, as I'll be fending off grizzly bears in the wilds of Montana, while prying T-rex bones from the unyielding ground. So spread the word, and join me in starting a movement that honors both juvenile humor and math at the same time.

There's no crying in baseball...but there's dancing!

This is just all kinds of awesome. If the whole world ran like (gulp) the Big East Baseball Tournament, life would be just about perfect. So yesterday (Thursday, 5/21) was supposed to be the winners bracket game between the UConn Huskies and the South Florida Bulls. Except the weather didn't cooperate, and a bunch of college-aged young men were sequestered together in a stadium with time to kill. Presumably they had no access to alcohol at this time. And there were no women in sight. Somehow it is comforting that this is what ensues when combatants, in the face of battle, come face to face outside of the battle. Enjoy.

Oh, and disregard the little ad at the beginning. I promise it gets better (check out the redheaded guy on South Florida...he's got some SKILLS!)

Playing Catch Up

I've been feeling pretty guilty about my lack of posts lately, and checking back on my posts by month: oh, look, not a single post in April!

Here's what's been up: April 1st was my wife's birthday. It was dandy. On the Friday before April vacation, I finished my class on Earth Systems Science, which has been the best online class I've ever taken. Baseball season started. Track season got into full swing. Association stuff got in the way. I got lazy. It was pea-planting season. Weather during vacation was wicked sweet, and I didn't want to spend my time blogging. I started using Facebook, and got my fix there. I became a full paying member on Sons of Sam Horn. Girly had her first gymnastics "meet". My 41st birthday (what a weak number, 41...I liken it to vanilla-flavored mashed potatoes) was April 30th. The family spent many hours rehearsing for the recital, and I spent many hours being a dutiful, supportive dad. I'm sure there were plenty of other things happening in April, too, but I have conveniently forgotten them at the exact same time I got tired of coming up with excuses for not writing. Serendipity is a cool thing.

Anyway, the school year now holds 30 more student days. A quick look at the calendar shows there are five Mondays remaining: five. That's just enough to fit on one hand. We have reached the milestone where we can say "only one more_____________left in the school year", i.e., "only one more complete month left in the school year".

Not that posts like this will make you clamor for more, but I do hope to be a little more regular this month, and in the coming months. I'd hate to get deleted from your Google Readers.

I Feel Pretty...

You Are Blooming Flowers

You are an optimistic person by nature. In even the darkest times, you are hopeful about the future. You feel truly blessed in life and can sometimes be overwhelmed with emotions. You have an artist's eye. You are always looking for beauty in the mundane. You have a good sense of aesthetics, especially when it comes to shapes and color.

What Part of Spring Are You?

"Milk"

Milk is worth seeing. Sean Penn, who you may love or hate, is such an amazing actor. I've never really researched the legacy of Harvey Milk, but it is a story of courage and strength, and of a man who was unapologetic in who he was.

I was speaking with a fellow Democrat the other day about how it is good to be a member of a party that doesn't eliminate roughly ten percent of the population from its ranks (if you believe Kinsey) simply due to the way they are wired in sexual orientation. It is the party of Gerry Studds and Barney Frank, of homosexuals who were accepted and allowed to contribute to society because their sexual orientation wasn't the most important piece of their being.

But American society always gets its titillation from the Republicans getting caught in trysts because it is such a cornerstone of their affiliation that they are the pillars of society, paragons of virtue. I feel sorry for the Larry Craigs of the world, who have to resort to finding their satisfaction in airport bathrooms because admission of their true being is anathema to their political parties.

Back to the beauty of "Milk": seeing a young Tom Brokaw interviewing Anita Bryant (even as a ten-year-old boy growing up in Weld, Maine, I knew she was so evil that I had to boycott orange juice for a while), and news breaks with Walter Cronkite. This is a great movie, and I am happy to have a better understanding of Harvey Milk's place in American politics.

Kermit and Christian Bale: Separated at Birth?

This is where Twitter would make sense for me: not much to say here, except if you're a Kermit fan, trust me and check this out. If you're also a Christian Bale fan (can't say I am) this is a must. If you're a fan of neither, just marvel at the wonderful use of this person's spare time. I'll give you a little taste, but go see this: http://community.livejournal.com/ohnotheydidnt/27350111.html?page=1

Who's in Your Twenty?

Curses upon you my dear wife, for posting your top 20 albums. You know I can't resist firing back, and during this class when I can least afford to spend the time. I have resisted looking at your list, for fear of influencing my own. I saw your first, the Simon & Garfunkel, and the last, the Hold Steady. Great choices both, but I don't think either will make my twenty, and that is fine.

In the order that they come to me, these are my most influential albums of my life. They have been chosen by the criteria of being the soundtrack to my life; they may be what I was listening to at my most malleable moments, and therefore are standouts. I make no claims that this is an all-inclusive "best of" that represents my life, but more just a knee-jerk list of recordings that jump out at me. They've all shaped my world view, or my musical taste, or both, in some way.

All right, enough prattling on. Here's the list. Oh, yeah: I'm linking the Amazon.com reviews. If it sounds good and you can afford it, don't buy it from them. Go to your local record store and give them the business instead.

Too Much Joy-Finally This isn't even my favorite TMJ album--that honor would probably go to Mutiny or Cereal Killers--but it is the one that cemented them as my all-time favorite band, for other reasons than their smart-ass one-liners. Through their recording career, from the underachievement tinged with brilliance of their debut "Green Eggs and Crack" to the maturity and introspection veiled in one liners of "Son of Sam I Am", "Cereal Killers", and "Mutiny" and their all-growed-up and slightly melancholy about it swan song of "Finally...", they mirrored my young adulthood. It was really the lyrics of two songs from "Finally..." that cemented it for me. From "I Believe In Something": "I believe/what they taught me in grade school/history is made by handsome fools...I believe everything on television/twelve step programs are the new religion/Gideon Bibles make rolling papers/the just prevail sooner or later...I believe in something". And the other line is from "Half Life": "I take pleasure/in the simple things/I love my headphones/and my wedding ring...are you talking to me now/or reading from a script?/what's that s'posed to mean, you say you wanna be yourself/I don't think you really know just who the hell that is/no, I don't think you have a clue just who the hell that is/so what's your half life?/you spend half your life pretending you're like everybody else/like everybody else".

Midnight Oil-Blue Sky Mining Whereas much of their earlier work was raw politics and anger, Blue Sky Mining mixed the adrenaline and testosterone with a little more of an Aquarius vibe. "Shakers and Movers" contains the first Midnight Oil song that can even be remotely considered a "love song" that professed love for something other than the Earth or indigenous people (not that there's anything wrong with that): "I can shake/I can move/but I can't live without your love/I can break/over you/but I can't live without your love". This album came out when I was in England on exchange, and my cassette tape of it was bought in Oxford. I enjoy Earth and Sun and Moon and their last studio album Capricornia more, but this one is a big mile-marker in my life.

Elvis Costello & the Attractions-This Year's Model There is nothing better, except maybe Armed Forces. This is one of those rare ones, where my favorite album by the artist is also the most influential. You've all heard "Pump it Up"? It's probably the weakest one here. There are more songs on Armed Forces that make my all-time favorite list, but TYM doesn't have a single weak track. This is the one where Elvis pissed off NBC for a good long time by playing the banned-by-the-BBC "Radio, Radio" in an unscheduled turn of events on SNL. He still pulls surprises, and makes great music (see "A Very Colbert Christmas" for further evidence.)

Til Tuesday- Welcome Home Again, not my favorite album by the artist. Everything's Different Now, which was, for all intents and purposes, an Aimee Mann solo album, takes that honor. But Welcome Home contains the transcendent song "Coming Up Close", which is the ultimate song for driving around on a sultry summer night, acting like a teenager when you know it's your last chance to act like a teenager. It takes me back to the summer of 1987, which was a good summer.

X-See How We Are This is one of my picks where I part with the critics. Many of the people paid to have an opinion hated X's departure to a more country/rock approach. But to me it was the first time I loved alt/country, and I didn't even know that was what it was at the time. X showed its intelligence and humor on this one, but the feeling was warmer than the Los Angeles/More Fun in the New World vibe. John Doe and Exene Cervenka gave us an early taste of what would come later on in the form of the Knitters. And their take on Dave Alvin's "Fourth of July" leads to one of my favorite songs of all time.

Concrete Blonde-Bloodletting You've probably heard of "Joey", but there's plenty more here. "Tomorrow, Wendy" and "The Sky is a Poisonous Garden" are the highlights. Johnette Napolitano's voice is a force of nature, and Jim Mankey's guitar hits you in the gut. Somewhat inspired by Anne Rice's vampire stories, this is the perfect antidote to the saccharine vampires of Twilight.

ELO-Out of the Blue Everyone says they hate the Electric Light Orchestra, the same way they eschew ABBA. But put on "Mr. Blue Sky", and everyone starts bopping uncontrollably. "Out of the Blue" was the first big 8-track tape I owned, because my sister had a Columbia House subscription and she ordered it for me. It was a double album that also contained "Turn to Stone" and "Sweet Talkin' Woman", which were some of the finest pop music treats of the 1970's. Add to that some psychedelic synth and some strings section heaven, and it's just a lucky thing I didn't have a good set of headphones at the age of ten, or I might never have left the house.

Dire Straits-Alchemy In the fall of 1985, Dire Straits came to Portland on their Brothers in Arms tour. I was a senior in high school, with little money and little ability to procure money. I'd loved Mark Knopfler's guitar playing since "Sultans of Swing", and I'd bought "Love Over Gold" a couple years before. Then "Money for Nothing" hit MTV, and all of a sudden Dire Straits was everyone's favorite band. Never mind that the big hits on that album were some of Dire Straits' weakest work, they were huge. And they were in Portland. And I had no way to see them. So I bought Alchemy, their double live album, instead. "Tunnel of Love", "Telegraph Road", "Sultans"...the live versions of these songs are the only ones that make sense to me. They take me back to the fall of my senior year of high school. But it is the instrumental theme to the movie "Local Hero", called "Going Home" that packs the most emotion. With Knopfler, it's not just about the lyrics, but about the way he and his guitar communicate.

Crash Test Dummies-The Ghosts That Haunt Me "I've all my wisdom teeth/two up top and two beneath/yet, I recognize/my mouth says things that aren't so wise/When I sing my darling's praise/I know I'm right, or close anyways/she's a gem upon the Earth/I know to me she will return/I know it's true/I know it's true/that I was made for her, and she me, too/and I'm confident she'll think so too/she'll be comin' back, comin' back, comin' back, comin' back soon."
This album was loaded with great songs and Canadian quirkiness, but it's a shame all the Crash Test Dummies will be remembered for is "Mmmm, Mmmm, Mmmm, Mmmm". Maybe Campbell's soup will pay for the rights.

Avett Brothers-Emotionalism On my way to the state track meet a coupl of years ago, I was listening to Scott Simon on NPR, interviewing these brothers from North Carolina, who sounded to me like a cross between the Everly Brothers, the Beatles, Hank Williams, and the Clash. Like the Proclaimers, there are harmonies that can only be made by kin. Check out the Avett Brothers. "Die, Die, Die" will probably catch your ear first, but my favorites are "Will You Return" and "The Ballad of Love and Hate". I've since learned about four Avett songs on my guitar.

Peter Mulvey- The Knuckleball Suite This is another MPBN find, but this time it can be traced to "In Tune By Ten". I first heard "The Eisenhower Waltz (Abilene)" on that show, and then on a subsequent show I heard the title track. He warmed up for Chris Smither at the Stone Mountain Center for the Performing Arts, and I missed that show. But I checked him out on YouTube and was amazed even more by his guitar playing (note: good lord, the man is gifted). Then in January of '08 he played the Northstar Cafe in Portland, to a small audience of about 50. He is a great guy, with a really engaging stage presence. As WL started to learn to play guitar, he became more interested: amazing how great playing stands out even more when you try to do it. I've learned three Mulvey songs. Lately, my "most influential" songs tend to be artists whose songs I love enough to learn. *(Note: the sample songs on the Amazon page I've linked ARE NOT Peter Mulvey. Something got messed up in translation.)

James-The Best of... When James came out with their first new studio album ("Hey, Ma") in seven years last spring, I ordered it as an import off eBay. It didn't come out stateside until September, but it was the soundtrack for the summer of '08, and Weather Lad and Cheer Chick became pretty big fans in the mean time. I'd already loved James for a long time, as had Rach, and knew a few of their songs on the guitar. The "Best of..." album is more significant for me because it has most of my favorite songs by them.

The Replacements-Don't Tell A Soul So many of my most influentials are not the ones the critics liked. But "Don't Tell a Soul", basically a Paul Westerberg solo effort, has some of my favorite lyrics: "if it's just a lull/why'm I bored right outta my skull?/keep me from being so dull". It's a little less cranky, a little less drunken, and a little more introspective than most of the other Placemats catalog, and that makes it a little more relevant to me.

The Refreshments-Fizzy, Fuzzy, Big and Buzzy "Banditos" (about a plot to pull of a heist and head to the border: "I've got the pistols, so I'll keep the pesos/yeah, that seems fair") was the big "hit", but there is sooooo much more to this one. It would be the perfect album for driving the wide open spaces of the desert southwest, but it's also got some tropical feel ("Mekong"). Therefore, it is probably my number one desert island disc. We saw Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers warm up for John Eddie a few years back, and didn't realize until halfway through that Roger was the lead singer or the Refreshments. Since then I've become a Peacemakers fan as well, but the Refreshments were better. Check out the shuffle of "Interstate": "Handgun and a bottle of booze/'69 Ford and a new pair of shoes/left from Boise, Idaho, 95/I was just in time to miss the 5 'o clock news/velvet black interstate's something appeals/spent $5.99 on a stone cold meal and bottle of wine/ I was feeling just fine when I crossed the state line/I was just in time to fall/asleep at the wheel"...just listen to it, because it loses much in my tranlation.

Barenaked Ladies- Maybe You Should Drive The first BNL album I bought; I'd heard of them but knew very little about them. Rach and I were just engaged, and the Barenaked Ladies were still small enough potatoes that they were playing the State Theater. We've since seen them--what--six times or so. Now Stephen Page is leaving the band, and it makes me sad that one of the most talented voices in rock music can't pull his personal life together.

The Smiths- Louder Than Bombs It was the summer following my freshman year of college. I was commuting to the UMF Archaeology lab for my summer job on a bike each day, and then out to Weld on the weekends. The house I lived in for the summer was belonged to my high school soccer coach, also the director of Flying Moose Lodge, where I worked both the previous and subsequent summers. I read It that summer, and got the worst case of poison ivy of my life. My friend Tom and I spent lots of time at the batting cages that summer. It was a great summer. And the Smiths provided the music.

Judybats- Native Son This one represents my time in Knoxville, TN. I'd heard the Judybats during my time DJing at WUMF, but they were actually from Knoxville, and had just recently signed a big deal with Sire Records. They owned K-Town for that time, and then promptly fell off the face of the alternative rock earth, as angrier sounds (think Nirvana and Soundgarden) took over.

The Cure-Head on the Door This one and "Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me" are my two favorites. I lump them together with the Smiths, bands with some of the cheeriest sugar-sweet melodies and hooks, but with downright depressing lyrics. For some reason that dichotomy has always worked for me; as a matter of fact, now that I mention it, it's kind of an undercurrent through a lot of my most influential (and favorite) music. "In Between Days" is pure perfection.

A3- Exile on Coldharbour Lane You might know "Woke Up This Morning", the theme music from The Sopranos. But I got in on Alabama 3 a little earlier, thanks to a sampler disc that came with my CMJ magazine, and a song called "Ain't Goin' to Goa", a hip-hop/house mixture sung by British guys who had taken on the identities of Southern Baptist preachers gone bad. It sounds like a recipe for a joke that turns unfunny pretty quickly (see: Dread Zeppelin), but damned if it doesn't work and keep working. They sing a lot about the rave scene and the ills of ecstasy, which is as close as I'll ever come to that culture. How do you turn a John Prine cover ("Speed of the Sound of Loneliness") into a dancefloor hit? Ask these guys. They do it flawlessly.

Fountains of Wayne-Fountains of Wayne Chris Collingwood and Adam Schlesinger are pop geniuses. This album features the PERFECT "Radiation Vibe". I can't get sick of this song. If you heard "Stacy's Mom" a few too many times, this album is the tonic for that ailment. My favorite lyric from this album: "He's got his arm around every man's dream/with crumbs in his beard from the seafood special/oh, can't you see my world is falling apart/baby, please, leave the biker/leave the biker, break his heart" (from "Leave the Biker"). Give them a second chance.

Chopped...Bring Me Your Torch.

I'm a sucker for reality t.v. I've railed against the concept, how they aren't so much "reality" as they are real people acting in an artificial manner in unreal situations. That said, I will still tuck in for a big ol feast of "Amazing Race" or "Project Runway" on a regular basis.

On Saturday, however, I was happy to witness something that will make me never go back to at least one of the "reality" shows. Let me explain.

As we were watching "Chopped", on Food Network, I was somewhat intrigued by the concept. Four contestants, chefs, are given some ingredients--usually incongruous--to make a course for a meal. With each successive round, one chef's dish is "Chopped". (Ha! That's clever!) "Queer Eye"'s own Ted Allen is the host, and while he's no Alton Brown, he's not too annoying, and doesn't really interfere with the proceedings.

So the first round, the appetizer, goes through, one of the chefs gets "Chopped", and they move on to an entree, which was centered around a beef blade cut (along with yucca, raisins, anchos, and pickles). The little personal "confessional" sections have already indicated that one of the chefs is kind of a weasel, who would sell his own mother for the right price. So as they're preparing their blade cuts, this guy drops one on the floor. I've done it a million times. Then, he picks it up, and throws it in with his other pieces, without even rinsing it! My immediate reaction was "no way. This guy is a chef, and he just did that on t.v. Never mind losing this competition, NO ONE will ever go to his restaurant again!" (Bloomingdale Road and Wine Directory, NYC, in case you were wondering).

But this is television, and the very reason I've used quotations around the word "reality" over the course of this post. Let me, at this point, tell you that the judges saw this little slip. They witnessed it, and when served, one of the judges asked "did I get the piece that fell on the floor?"

The chef replied, with what could be described as an "oh, crap" look on his face, "I don't think so..."

Then the judge asked another judge "did you get the piece that fell on the floor?" At that point, I believe the chef actually said "oh, crap."

I'm thinking his goose--or blade steak, as it were--is cooked. But only on "reality" television is there redemption for the irredeemable. I give you "The Flavor of Love" as Exhibit . This guy moves on to the next round. That is utterly unconscionable, that something that would likely get his health department permit yanked is brushed off with a shrug. The other contestants should have been able to make shredded wheat with a side of tap water and beat him in that round. But that's not how "reality" t.v. works, and that's why it's not "reality". We switched the channel at that point, so I don't know who won. But if you watch this link, I strongly encourage two boycotts: one, on the restaurant where the tattoed man works and two, on this dreadful show.

I Hate Dick Cheney.

This is an easy one. Dick Cheney just needs to go back to Wyoming and lose control of his chair on an incline, eventually finding himself boiled to death in Old Faithful. Dude, you're done, and we don't need your views on national security anymore (as if there was a time when we did...) But I love his fashion sense:

Bunting My Way On Base...

...seems like a good metaphor on the day when the Red Sox equipment trucks headed to Fort Myers. I view these little lists as the equivalent of bunting my way on base: it isn't my best work, and it isn't original, but sometimes it's what I need to shake me out of a slump. So without further ado, here is my bunt single...eh...

1. What is your name: Weather Boy
2. A four Letter Word: wank
3. A boy's Name: Willie
4. A girl's Name: Wynona
5. An occupation: woodworker
6. A color: white (is that really a color?)
7. Something you wear: wellies
8. A food: water chestnut, the one food I would choose to eat if I had no sense of taste
9. Something found in the bathroom: waterstained wallpaper (bonus points!)
10. A place: West Peru, which is still a place in some peoples' minds
11. A reason for being late: waiting for the plumber
12. Something you shout: Whoa, Nellie!
13. A movie title: Waterworld (minus bonus points!)
14. Something you drink: water with a large splash of something else
15. A musical group: Waterboys
16. An animal: wildebeest
17. A street name: Webb River Drive
18. A type of car: Willys Jeep
19. Something scary: water...really deep water
20. Ice cream flavor: White Russian

Okay, that was fun, but I feel like I was thrown out by half a step. Here's another one:

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
I think so, kind of: my great, great grandfather David Kirk was the first generation Scot who came across the pond and settled in Pittsburgh.

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
Don't really remember, but it was undoubtedly when I heard a song that reminded me of when my kids were little and how grown-up they're becoming. I'm a sap. Maybe something like "The Circle Game".

3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
I like how it's become such an efficient mix of printing and cursive. Otherwise, it's pretty nondescript.

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
Corned beef or pastrami. (Although I love a nice MLT...mutton, lettuce and tomato, when the mutton is lean...)

5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
Yes, two.

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
If I'd let me.

7. DO YOU USE SARCASM?
Only on those who deserve it. I prefer facetiousness.

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
Yes.

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
I think so.

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?
Kashi Go Lean, Oat Flakes with brown sugar, Corn Chex, good granola, Cap'n Crunch, Life

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
Usually

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?
New York Super Fudge Chunk

14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
How seriously they seem to take themselves.

15. RED OR PINK?
Pink.

16. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?
How my disorganization sometimes affects others.

17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST?
Hmm...I don't think I miss people...I think I miss times or activities more. Like playing softball.

19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
Blue jeans and socks.

21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
Numbers.

22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Midnight Blue.

23. FAVORITE SMELLS?
lime zest

24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
Our school secretary.


26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
Baseball.

27. HAIR COLOR?
Dark brown with whitewalls and an increasingly flesh-colored patch above my forehead.

28. EYE COLOR?
Brown

29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
No. Good eyesight.

30. FAVORITE FOOD?
The kind you eat. I guess I'd say Mexican.

31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
It depends on the day: some days it's suspense, some days it's "Little Miss Sunshine".

32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
I'm going back and watching Lost, which I missed first time around. We'll see if it sticks.

33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
Blue lightweight fleece over black t-shirt

34. SUMMER OR WINTER?
Late summer/Indian summer.

35. HUGS OR KISSES?
Hugs

39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
Truman

40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
Whatever has been placed on top of it since we stopped using the desktop.

41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT?
Whatever was in the background as I surfed.

42. FAVORITE SOUND(S).
The stream by the house.

43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?
Again, it depends but usually the Beatles

44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?
Paris.

45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?
I can flare my nostrils, and roll my tongue and roll my r's, and I pick up dialects really quickly. All really useful.

46 WHERE WERE U BORN?
Hyannis, Massachusetts

48. HOW DID YOU MEET YOUR SPOUSE/SIGNIFICANT OTHER?
In college the first time, and then when I was coaching soccer at the school where she worked.


There. I got on base. Now let's see if this starts a rally...

Hidden Treasures

Once in a while, 207 is pretty darned good. Last Thursday night, WL and I were at Central Maine Archery, putting in some practice. On the tv they were showing the NBC Nightly News, and then afterward 207 came on. I knew Lissa Schneckenburger was going to be performing on that episode, and I was excited that I'd be able to see it, even though we weren't at home. Lissa is the young fiddler from Maine who Rach and I saw open for Richard Thompson back in the fall, and I was duly impressed.

Anyway, just as Lissa and her guitarist began to play, Tom, the proprietor, changed the channel! I almost freaked out, but realized I could go to the 207 site to see the performance later on. In a way, it was a blessing, because when I checked the site I realized her guitarist is a fellow camper of mine at Meadowlark Music Camp! Her name is Bethany Waickman, and she's a MUCH better player than I am. Very quiet, very nice, and very talented. She has always been an advanced player, doing DADGAD classes with Keith Murphy (who is also a member of Lissa's band at times).

Lissa plays numerous shows in Maine, so go check her out sometime. She's really enjoyable and seems to be genuinely nice and personable.

I tried to embed the video, but the link seems to be broken. Here is the link and I'll see if I can figure something out to embed it.

*Note: the link remains broken, and I can't figure out where the error is. I've tried becoming a member of the WCSH site, but that's screwy, too. I take back the nice things I said about 207. Okay, no I don't. But here's another video I grabbed from YouTube so you can have instant gratification and see whether it's worth your while to click the previous link:

I Liked These Questions!

1. Do you like blue cheese? I love it. "There's blue cheese dressing, blue cheese shrimp, fried blue cheese, baked blue cheese, spam and blue cheese...that's about all you can make out of blue cheese..." Bubba Blue
2. Have you ever smoked? For about three days in Baltimore with Mike Mozden, I was a smoker. He stopped being a vegetarian for those three days.
3. Do you own a gun? Nope. Had a .22 when I was a kid, but it burned in my parents' house fire.
4. What flavor Kool Aid is your favorite? The kind that makes me believe Rocco Baldelli, Jon Smoltz, Brad Penny, Mike Lowell, David Ortiz and J.D. Drew are going to be healthy this year.
5. Do you get nervous before doctor appointments? Not outwardly, but my BP jumps about twenty points when the nurse approaches with the cuff and stethoscope.
6. What do you think of hot dogs? I don't, I just eat them. I find it works better that way.
7. Favorite Christmas movie? Can't think of any I really love. The Grinch, maybe? (The cartoon, of course, with Boris Karloff narrating.)
8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? Coffee. French roast.
9. Can you do push-ups? I prefer to go bra-less.
10. What's your favorite piece of jewelry? "I love my headphones/and my wedding ring"
11. Favorite hobby? Gardening and my guitar.
12. Do you have A.D.D? I'm actually...oh, look a bird! What?
13. Do you wear glasses/contacts? Nope.
14. Middle name? Hidden. No, really, it is.
15. Name thoughts at this moment? Just how I'm going to answer this question...
16. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink? Coffee, water, ginger ale.
17. Current worry? I've found worrying to be counter-productive.
18. Current hate right now? I've found hatred to be counter-productive, too, but I really hate arctic cold fronts.
19. Favorite place to be? In my hammock, strung up between the two big maples. Can't wait to try out the new one!
20. How did you bring in the New Year? Making music with friends.
21. Where would you like to go? Not many places I wouldn't like to go, but New Zealand is my dream destination right now.
22. Name three people who will complete this? Everyone else before me, apparently.
23. Do you own slippers? Yes, fleece L.L. Bean slips with leather soles that I've owned for at least eight years.
24 What color shirt are you wearing? Gray, over my maroon Great Big Sea t-shirt.
25. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets? Sounds slippery. Give me cotton with a high thread count.
26. Can you whistle? Yes, but not as well as I like to think.
27. Favorite Color? Dark blue is a safe bet, but I like green, purple and orange, too.
28. What songs do you sing in the shower? Sometimes I make things up, but "Ordinary Day" by Great Big Sea tends to come out pretty often.
29. Would you be a pirate? I'm really more of a Robin Hood type, or a privateer.
30. Favorite Girl's Name? Cate
31. Favorite boy's name? Ben
32. What's in your pocket right now? A valve cap (Schrader) from an inner tube.
33. Last thing that made you laugh? One of Rach's stories about her students.
34. What vehicle do you drive? 1995 Ford Ranger
35. Worst injury you've ever had? Ruptured disc, L5/S1.
36. Do you love where you live? Yes. It makes everywhere else a nice place to visit.
37. How many TVs do you have in your house? One that works.

Yes...

Up until today, the inauguration of our new President hasn't really sunk in. On that fateful November morning when we found out that Barack Obama would be the President, I found myself grateful that America had put aside petty differences such as skin color, and elected an intelligent and dynamic black man to the Presidency. I found myself grateful that the missteps and embarrassments of the past eight years would be put behind us, and be replaced by...something better, I hope. I found myself encouraged that somehow the electorate had realized the error of its ways in supporting Bush so vehemently through the early days of an ill-advised war, and had turned its back on the kind of thinking that got us there in the first place. I found myself vindicated in my liberal beliefs, that the government can be an agent for positive change if it is thoughtfully administered.

It has only been today, MLK Day 2009, that I have begun to feel the emotion of this momentous day. The interviews with John Lewis and Andrew Young, and everyday citizens of the United States who are black have allowed me to step outside my academic detachment. The joy and the pride are palpable, and as a middle class, middle aged white guy, I feel like I've been invited to the party. I obviously can't experience the same joy and ecstasy of the black American who has been told for four-hundred years that he is inferior and suddenly is empowered.

To me, the feeling is of freedom: this past election cycle completely destroyed our limiting mindset that said minorities and women were second class citizens. Of the major players this past fall, only half of the people involved were white males. And then, figure in how Obama got where he did: he defeated a powerful, respected woman who was the presumptive Democratic candidate as late as February of 2008.

The election of 2008 has opened doors. If we did the math on what percentage of Americans are white males, we'd find that 75% of Americans are white, and 49.1% are male (2000 Census figures). Quick and dirty math tells me that about 37% of Americans are white males. That means about 63% of the population had previously been left out of the Presidential discussion prior to this year. Think about how our choices and options of having great people in high positions have increased. This is exciting and liberating, and can only mean good things for our country.

And if you look at the response of people around the world to this election, you see people everywhere questioning their own governments, wondering why the same thing can't happen there. It can. As a result of what America has done this year, we can change the world.

Yes, we can.

Meditating

The Photo Friday topic was "Meditation". I wondered, "what do I have in my iPhotos that would fit the bill"? Sadly, I haven's shot anything new in a long time. I need to get back at it because I just love taking photos. More, I love having a large library I can draw from when there is a stated theme, and contemplating how my photos fit the theme. This exercise is fun because it is fairly infrequent that I actually intended said photo to fit any "theme".

Anyway, I admire those of you who are more original-photo oriented than I am. Keep up the good work, because you inspire me.

This one was taken last spring. Cheer Chick is one of the most introspective and meditative kids I've ever met when she is in the great outdoors. I love just watching her do her thing.

Embrace Your Inner Bjorn.

We rented "Mamma Mia" this past weekend, and I have to be honest: it really wasn't horrible. The reviews on IMDB and Rotten Tomatoes are mixed, and for good reason. It is one of those flicks where you can see the (reasonable) arguments both for and against it.

Let's start with the plot: not exactly A Midsummer Night's Dream.

Sophie (Amanda Seyfried), is a twenty-something young woman, with a wedding coming up. Donna (Meryl Streep) is her mother, and the proprietor of a Greek Mediterranean money pit of a hotel. The story revolves around Sophie's father; namely, she never knew her father growing up, and Donna isn't exactly sure who the father was. By sneaking a peek at Donna's diary, Sophie has narrowed down the candidates to three, and she has tracked all three down and invited them to her wedding. It's a comedy! It's a drama! It's a love story! (The hotel is purported to be build somewhere near the mythical Aphrodite's fountain.)

In case you've been living under a rock, though, the major contrivance of this movie is that it is adapted from a Broadway musical based on the music of ABBA. And this is the font from which my original trepidation sprang (like the aforementioned Aphrodite's fountain...metaphors are so cool!): Meryl Streep crooning the songs of ABBA. How could any self-respecting man "want" to see this movie and keep his testosterone intact? The mere concept of this movie was, at its very core, emasculating, and thereby intimidating.

But I have been the main proponent of the following theory for some time, and I think it is what ultimately raises this movie to enjoyability: everyone loves ABBA. Even if you don't think you do, your love of ABBA is like some repressed memory. Some day you will be in a crowd of people, maybe waiting for your favorite band to take the stage, and the opening bars of "Does Your Mother Know" will come over the PA quite loud. The synthesizers will pulse; the cheesy guitar riff will ring, and you will find yourself with a dilemma on your hands: do you allow yourself to groove? If you are honest with yourself, you will obey your body and not your mind. You will bite your lip. Your shoulders will start to undulate. Even if you are not a dancer, you will start to re-create the moves of Tony Manero (that's John Travolta to the under 40 set) in Saturday Night Fever, but more wholesomely. And by the time you are bumping into the people next to you, dancing and jiving and singing along gleefully with the ESL-inflected refrain "Well I could dance with you honey/If you think it's funny/Does your mother know that you're out?", you will have embraced your inner Bjorn. It's okay. We all have an inner Bjorn.

Anyway, I digress. But that's all I really feel like I needed to say about "Mamma Mia". The cast is fun: Streep and Seyfried are joined by Pierce Brosnan (sings about as well as you might expect Remington Steele to sing), and Colin Firth. Christine Baranski and Julie Walters take turns stealing the show as Donna's friends Tanya and Rosie. Bottom line? The whole movie plays like the cast had a great time making it. That is worth the cheap rental in and of itself. Is it Streep's weightiest role, or her best acting job? Not by a long shot. Is it one of her more enjoyable performances? You bet.

Do I feel any less of a man for enjoying this movie? Let me answer that with another question: Do Benny and Bjorn look any less manly with their white polyester jumpsuits? On second thought, I'd prefer not to answer that.