29 March 2010

Today was a good day. Long, but good. First off, I took the day off work, which makes it a pretty damn good day right there. It’s spring break, you see, and just like my last spring break (in 2002), I took off Monday from work. Back then, my wife stayed around the house and created two filmlets, including this gem that went on to win Century College’s Student FIlm Award two months later.

Today we most definitely did not stay around the house. After Jennifer came home from the chiropractor, the three of us took off for Stillwater. Jennifer’s favorite children’s store there was closed, but we checked out the winery (scored $2.50 off for bringing in some old bottles), bought some high-brow mustard, added to our viewmaster collection (ever heard of Tom Corbett? Me either.) and went out to eat at Brine’s. In fact, I feel like we eat at Brine’s everytime we visit Stillwater. Maybe that’s because it’s the only place that’s not either A) crappy or B) expensive.

We tried switching up our mealtime foray today by first going to Nacho Mama’s. We were taken to a table in between two other groups (I really hate how restaurants try to shoehorn guests in between other groups, when the other half of the room is totally empty). I opened the menu, and…WAY OVERPRICED! Still, I thought “Well, we’re here now, maybe the food’s really awesome.” We next ordered waters, and the waitress brought us a stack of plastic Pizza Hut glasses and a foggy plastic carafe for us to pour it ourselves. Then Jennifer noted that there was not a single food item (except side items) that was meat-free. So we got up and left. I saw the waitress as we were getting up, and she said: “Well we can make anything without meat.” To which I wanted to say: “Yeah, so then it would be even more overpriced,” but instead, I just said: “That’s okay, I think we’ll just go somewhere else.” She waved dismissively at us, and Owen helped himself to a complimentary mint as we exited the establishment.

Jennifer says leaving a restaurant like that is embarrassing, but I say: If the service sucks, why stay? I mean, especially when I haven’t purchased anything yet. I can’t count the number of times I’ve had a lousy experience at a restaurant but been trapped there because we were with a larger group of people. So, when the group is just my wife and son, I ain’t staying if the place is crappy.

Anyway, we later purchased a bed, dresser and nightstand for Owen via Craig’s List. This required renting a truck from Menards, which was a big to-do, but, overall, nothing I can complain about. One of the downsides to not having any redneck-good-ol’-boy friends, is that none of our friends owns a vehicle large enough to carry anything but themselves and one reusable bag of organic groceries. Oh well.

The only bad part of the day: our cat puked like eight times. And I had to clean the litter box. Why is she puking? I don’t know, but I think she’s been munching on the large plant in our bedroom.

30 March 2010

So, today, for the third time in my life, I escaped a round of lay-offs.

The first time was in 2003. I had been working at my job for about 6 months and an email arrived saying three technicians had just been terminated. I was stunned, and, if the email hadn’t  told me that those affected were already notified, I would’ve thought I was one of the people to be let go. There were only ten technicians in the company, and I had less seniority than any of them.

The second time was in 2007. By that time, I was working at my current job and – get this – I was actually hoping to get laid off. My severance pay would’ve allowed me to coast through to early 2008, by which time I knew we’d be living in St. Paul, and I’d be near several other pharmaceutical companies that were hiring. But it was not to be.

The third time was today. In fact, no one from my department was laid off, though a few people I know from other departments were dismissed. Major bummer today. I almost had to force myself to get some stuff done in the lab this morning. And when one co-worker emailed me asking me to work on a certain task, I replied saying something like: “Yeah, I’m gonna put that on my things-to-do-if-I’m-still-here-at-2:00 list.” Which, despite the humorous tone, was totally true.

Anyway, back to the old grind tomorrow. HalleluCEO! Passover came one day early in this house.

26 March 2010

Today might be my last full day at work. The folks in charge are announcing the lay-offs on Tuesday (the 30th). But I’m taking Monday off of work, so…you know, stay posted.

One of my co-workers sent me this link: Click this. It’s pretty cool, but you have to make sure you know a lot about the person you have in mind. I stumped him on Mason Jennings, but in Akinator’s defense, Jennings was probably the least-famous person I had him guess, and there might be some sort of popularity-threshold a person must attain to before being considered “well-known.”

My sister called me this evening and inquired as to whether I’d be willing to videotape a wedding/reception in July. Yeah…I don’t know. I’m kind of like the guy who owns the really big truck: just because I have the capability to move your furniture, doesn’t mean I want to. My sister promised it would be a small wedding and reception, which makes it a little better, but the tough part comes after – editing can be a pain.

27 March 2010

Today we celebrated Jennifer’s parents’ 40th wedding anniversary. A bunch of the family went out to eat at some restaurant in Forest Lake, and then we went back to my in-laws’ house. I got to be the designated driver for my in-laws’ car, as they were too intoxicated to safely drive the 1 mile from the restaurant to their home. I think part of the secret to staying happily married for 40 years is to get plastered on your anniversary.

My brother-in-law, himself somewhat drunk, suggested I needed to rewatch the 6 Star Wars films with a new, open mind. I don’t think I ever said I hated the newer trilogy, I just don’t think they’re that special. It was funny, though, how confusing the discussion was. It went something like this:

LES: That first episode isn’t so good, you know.

ME: You mean the first of the newer ones.

LES: No, the older ones, when Anikan’s a little boy.

ME: Oh, that IS the first of the newer ones.

LES: I thought you meant ‘newer,’ like more recent.

ME: I did.

LES: Yeah, but the ones from the 70s and 80s are more recent.

ME: Oh, I get what you’re saying.

LES: Anyway, I think the second one of the newer ones and the last one of the older ones are my favorites.

ME: You mean “Return of the Jedi” and “Attack of the Clones”?

LES: No, I mean the other ones.

ME: Oh, “Empire” and “Revenge of the Sith”?

LES: Yeah, them.

28 March 2010

Today I finally finished listening to the audiobook John Adams. I was intrigued by this book for two reasons:

1) One of my co-workers had this book on his desk for months, reading small chunks of it during lunch breaks. He kept citing fascinating tidbits from it.

2) I often wondered why Adams was so slighted. I first noticed this on a visit to Mt. Rushmore over 20 years ago. The faces on that mountain are of presidents number 1, 3, 16 and 26. The obvious question then becomes: where’s #2? I actually think it would’ve made more sense to have just put the faces of the first four Presidents on the mountain (and it would’ve made more sense to not put it in the heart of Indian territory, too, but that’s the Federal Government for ya’). While dining in the Mt. Rushmore cafe, I asked my Aunt if she knew why President #2 wasn’t on the mountain, and she said: “Wasn’t Adams only president for 4 years? They probably wanted to put just 8-year presidents up there.”

This kind of makes sense, except that it begs the question of why not putting up 8-year presidents like Madison, Jackson, or Grant. More importantly, it’s flat-out wrong: only one of the 4 people depicted on Rushmore were President for 8 years.

But Adams is slighted in other ways, too. Check out our money. There’s a place for Presidents 1, 3, and 4, but not #2. Even Franklin and Hamilton are on our money (founding fathers concurrent with Adams), but not Adams himself. (Okay, I suppose Adams is technically on the $2 bill, but he’s not on the obverse.)

And what about in the nation’s capital? Washington and Jefferson have their monument and memorial, respectively, but what does Adams get? A street.

Anyway, I finished listening to the book, and I still think Adams has been short-shifted in the Presidential-memorial department.

24 March 2010

Whilst in the lab working diligently as usual this morning (~9 AM), my co-workers were involved in some sort of pointless ridiculous banter. At one point, one of them said: “Is this what you’re gonna blog about today, James?” And I said, “No, I already have something to blog about for today.” Which is this:

I pulled out of our apartment’s parking at 6:00 this morning. About 15 seconds into my commute,just as I passed over 35E, but before I passed Summit Brewery, I saw a shadowy 4-legged thing moving behind some trees. I slowed down. The thought: “Was that a dog?” entered my brain, but I immediately dismissed it, as no dog is that big. Going even slower, I drove forward about 100 feet more and saw not one, not two, but TEN deer nibbling in the grass and walking around. I brought my car to a complete stop and just stared. There were eight mature does, one juvenile, probably a year old, and another that was somewhere between yearling and adult (tween?). A couple of them looked up at me, and a few began walking past, but not hurriedly. The closest ones were fifteen to twenty feet away; close enough so that my car’s headlights gave their eyes that weird we’re-in-league-with-the-Devil look that my cat so often sports at 2AM.

Another vehicle approached from behind. The driver slowed as (s)he passed me, presumably because it’s odd to see a parked running car that early in the morning on that empty street. But then they sped away. They must not have seen the deer. But, I guess if you drive a Ford Explorer, you’ve long since abandoned noticing anything beyond your own dashboard. The re-acceleration of the Ford gave the herd a minor panic, and a few of them pranced away, past the railroad tracks, another thirty feet or so from the road. I watched them vanish behind the trees, then I took off for work.

Also – one of my co-workers emailed this flow chart to me today (if you click on it, it’s easier to see):

She thought I would find it amusing. I did.

25 March 2010

Owen and I stopped at the library on the way home today. He selected a whole bevy of books including titles such as: You can be Pretty like Barbie, Princesses are Fun, and Mermaids are Real. Just kidding. See, Owen is a boy, and so we were allowed to check out books with titles like Watching the Moon, Jupiter, and Dwarf Planets. Okay, so I guess I’m still harping on that thing from a few days ago. Princesses. Jeez.

Speaking of books, here’s my latest book review: The Heathen’s Guide to World Religions. This entirely mediocre tome is currently taking up precious space on our book shelf, so if you’d like to read it, I know where you can get a copy from.

Owen claims that everything he hears adults say aloud, he has to repeat in his head. This causes him frustration, and that’s why, he says, he tries getting us to stop talking so much. He also says he can stop the repeating if he makes these electronic/laser/robotic noises. I know this sounds unbelievable, but, coming from the son of someone who used to have to repeat everything backwards in his head, it seems as if the family genetics have improved with this generation. My wife says she’ll talk to Owen’s teacher about it tomorrow.

I received an email from the President of the Maple Grove Critical Thinking Club this evening. I didn’t even know such a club existed. More importantly, what are critically thinking people doing living in Maple Grove?  Anyway, she (yeah – she – can you believe it? I wonder if she’s a princess. Okay, I digress) wants to know if I want to come speak to her Club in June. On the topics of atheism and Jehovah’s Witnesses.  Hm. I don’t know. I’m not an atheist “expert,” it’s just what I call myself because I see no evidence for gods, and, in fact, the evidence presented falls flat. Much like Santa Claus. (I’m also aSanta, too.) But I don’t really care if people think there’s a god, just so long as it doesn’t make them do crazy stuff, and I also don’t know all the finer points of defending/explaining such a worldview. I mean, for that matter, I’m also pro-gay rights, but I don’t think I’d be the one to lecture on the logical reasons for allowing same-sex marriages.

I do, however, consider myself an expert on the topic of Jehovah’s Witnesses, so maybe I could just talk about that for the bulk of the hour. This is unfairly easy, though, as I am confident there would be no one there offering counter-arguments to my Watchtower polemics. I guess I’ll have to think about this one.

23 March 2010

So here’s a rather small scale model of the USS Enterprise: CLICK THIS.

It’s small. It’s amazingly small. 8.8 microns. To put that into perspective, if you lined 113 of them up end-to-end, they still wouldn’t be as thick as dime (I’m talking the skinny side of the dime – not the diameter). I just think it’s really great when scientists use their know-how to do something marvelous for the human race like this.

Here’s another link: NOW CLICK THIS. I felt compelled to write this article after watching said episode. Something like this happened last season on Survivor, too. One contestant prayed to her god to help her team win the challenge. They didn’t, but I think she continued to believe in her god after he failed her so miserably. Maybe her god was busy in Haiti that week, who knows?

I also found out today that my work was accepted into Hamline’s book of student stuff titled The Fulcrum. (Sorry, I don’t have a link for you to click this time.) This is kind of amazing because, last year, when I first found out about the Fulcrum, I made it a goal to submit something. That was in September. The deadline was something like December 3rd. All through October and November, I kept meaning to write something, but I was busy with other matters. So, finally, like the day before the deadline, I had to take the day off work because our baby-sitter canceled on us. So I took Owen to preschool, and then had three hours to spend at the local library. I was all caught up on my schoolwork, so I wrote an essay real quick, and sent it in about 15 minutes before the noon deadline. Apart from Word’s auto-spellcheck, there was pretty much no editing.

In a way, though, it’s not at all amazing that my work was accepted. After all, the editor-in-chief shares my last name. I’ve never met her but, hey, nepotism must work at all levels of human endeavor, right?

21 March 2010

I was at my niece’s birthday party today. From the looks of things, there are two types of toys that girls can have: toys with Disney Princesses on them, or toys with Barbie on them.

Have I mentioned that I hate Disney? No, not Walt Disney, the pioneering cartoonist and film-maker. I’m talking about the media giant that has sunk its tentacles into every aspect of childhood. I can’t stand the way they extend copyrights, sue quasi-copyright infringements, market junk and proclaim it as the next “classic” and ruin otherwise perfect Pixar films by slapping their logo on the beginning.

Anyway, nothing seems worse than those princesses directed at little girls. I can’t quite figure out why Disney seems to think that, in order to be somebody, you have to be royalty. I thought my ancestors fought some big war a while back to throw off those royal tyrants. And, actually, now that I think about it, the best Disney cartoons are the ones about non-royalty: Dumbo, Bambi, Pinocchio, and all that early stuff with that mouse and that duck. The British royal family is just a waste of UK tax-payers’ money. It shouldn’t even exist anymore. It’s just something everyone over there is afraid to get rid of, kind of like the way Americans are with their gods.

The bigger crime, though, is the look of these picture-perfect princesses. They look so fake and phony (is that redundant?), like they all went to Glamour Shots. The story, as first told in Snow White, then repeated in Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, the Little Mermaid, Aladdin, and probably that new movie with the obnoxious alligators (oh – and if you click this link, the site shows you a montage of prior Disney princesses, in case you forgot that this is just another rehash), is this: if a young girl wants to make something of herself, she needs to:

1 – be pretty. If you’re not naturally pretty, like, say, Snow White, try to employ witchcraft. Maybe some fairy can turn your rags into a prom dress or – more drastically – you can contract with a sea hag for major body alterations.

2 – catch the attention of a rich, handsome man. Yeah, that’s right, even if you’re a princess (what is that, like third in line for the crown?), your best bet is still to just lie around all day waiting for a Prince Smarming. You can literally lie around, like Snow White, or that chick from Sleeping Beauty, or figuratively lie around, chilling with your pet tiger.

3 – well, honestly, there is no #3. Because, let’s face it, once a girl has grown up into a 16 year old woman (that’s how old Ariel is on her wedding day), and has snagged someone with that coveted XY combo, there’s really nothing left to achieve. And that’s why the movie is always over at this point.

Hm, I was going to mention Barbie, with her gravity-defying bosom and permanently-ready-for-stilettos feet, but you get the point.

22 March 2010

While at Mississippi Market today, we recruited assistance from one of the employees to get us some bulk pop-corn. As the employee stretched out to grab a bag for us, I noticed her tattoo. She was wearing a button shirt, but the top two (maybe three) buttons weren’t fastened. emblazoned on her sternum was something that looked like this:

I only saw it for a second, but wow…if that didn’t look like Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, I don’t know what does. Later, as she was ringing up our items, I could only see the very, um…Northern shore of her tattoo.

So now I bet you’re wondering three things:

1) How can I be sure it was Michigan’s UP?

Because, I’m just THAT good at geography. It’s my favorite Trivial Pursuit category. One of my favorite past-times in junior high school was correcting teacher’s when they got their geography facts wrong. I once asked a table of co-workers if any of them ever noticed that Wisconsin looks like Tanzania, and they all gave me a look that said: “Wow, I bet you could spot Michigan’s UP on a tattoo in less than 0.5 seconds.

2) Why would someone get a tattoo of Michigan’s UP?

I don’t know! Isn’t it great, though? I mean, everyone gets hearts, crosses, names. How many people get a road map?

3) Did she also have the Lower Peninsula?

Ooh… I could’ve asked …but that might have gotten me thrown out of the store.