Sunday, 29 January 2012

So, I think my books are finally in a state I can live with.

To me, one of the most stressful aspects of moving to a new place is that my books don’t have a place to call home. Soon after we moved in to our latest and greatest compound, I set about removing my books from all the boxes (and my 400 books were in about 50 different boxes because my wife has a policy of putting one or two books in every box). In the dining room, we have copious shelf space all conveniently kept behind doors (I guess that makes them cabinets). In fact, we have so much shelving space in the dining room, that I used one shelf for records and CDs, four shelves for board games, three shelves for Owen’s art supplies, then removed two large shelving units and sold them for $45, and STILL had enough room for all of my books.

At first, the books were just in random order, in random position. Some were lying down, some were standing up with the spine facing inwards, others were paired in a naughty, naughty 69 fashion. Clearly, this couldn’t last.

So, one day, I extricated all the books, placed them in stacks relevant to the subject matter, turned some of the stacks into shorter stacks when my wife complained that piling books 50 books high is a danger to small children, then began placing them on the shelves in the correct order.

But I ran into a problem.

It turns out, too many of my books are too tall. If I lowered a shelf so as to accommodate such books, this left too little room on the lower shelves. I tried removing some shelves, but then I didn’t have enough room for all of the books. Jennifer suggested placing all of the really tall books together. Geez, why didn’t she just suggest burning all of the books?

Anyway, as a testament to my unbridled genius and legendary humility, I figured it out. Let me explain it to you via photographs:

So here’s an overview of the majority of the shelving. These are (most of) our nonfiction books. They are all organized by subject, from most important to least important area of human endeavor. They begin with general knowledge in the top left, proceed through mathematics, physics, cosmology, astronomy, geography, biology (animal and then human), the social sciences, language, history, biography, the arts (painting and photography, then film and television, then music), humor, and religion.

Here’s where the enormity of my genius is on display. Notice this particular module of the shelving begins with the rest of my astronomy books. This then melds into books on the environment, nature, and the animal kingdom. Unfortunately, some of the nature and animal books are so tall, they were part of the problem I noted earlier. Therefore, I laid them on their sides, and adjusted the shelving such that it was only tall enough to fit these “sleeping” books. The bottom shelf picks up where these two modified shelves left off, continuing with the rest of the animal books.

Notice, too, that lying these books down resulted in an empty area on the right side of the shelves. I filled this space with unusually small books – the kind of books that inadvertently get pushed into the back. The one on the second shelf, for example, is a field guide to birds. Now, not only won’t this tiny book get lost in the shuffle, but I can access it easily when going camping (and, yes, I do take it camping).

More genius. For some reason, our collection of dictionaries consist of two sizes: absurdly small and freakin’ huge. Again, I adjusted the relevant shelving and laid the two large dictionaries on their sides and placed the baby dictionaries on top, where they can snuggle in and stay warm. Awww. Note that keeping these dictionaries on their sides is less stressful on their already taxed spines. Yes, my solution is that awesome.

On the adjacent wall of the dining room is this shelving unit. I am using it for our fiction collection. This one had me stumped for a while, but by simply putting the books in alphabetical order (by author’s last name), I was able to place half the books on the top shelf and half on the bottom. The taller books are all by author’s with last names beginning with K-Z. This left too few books on the top shelf to look “right,” so I supplemented the shelf with two previously unused bookends.

The only oddballs here were the Little House collection of books and Gone With the Wind, a mammoth tome my wife picked up while touring Margaret Mitchell’s home in Atlanta. I deftly solved this predicament by placing these two items – which, I think you’ll agree, have a certain “oh, look at us!” quality about them – on their own shelves. I placed them at an angle, because that’s all cool and whatnot.

FUN FACT: The bookends were a wedding gift – a subtle reference to a Simon and Garfunkel song, but not the one you’d think.

Finally: This shelf is in the kitchen. There was no room for them in the dining room, but that’s okay. As you can see, this shelf is largely cook books, so they belong in the kitchen. The other books on this shelf have to do with home improvement so, you know, they seem to fit closer to the tool box, too. Now that I look at this photo, I see our book about vegetarian cooking is upside down. Damn. That’s gonna bug me to no end.

And, no, you can’t borrow any of them.

Now stop getting all voyeuristic about what books we own and get on with your own life.

Saturday, 28 January 2012

You might remember from READING THIS BLOG POST that I had read THIS BLOG POST which discussed the fun of participating in THIS ACTIVITY.

So, today, Owen and I returned to Lowe’s. This time, he built a Tyrannosaurus rex (no, not a real one, a wooden one, silly).

The T. rex kit included two sets of stickers: one set for making a funny dinosaur, and one set for making a realistic dinosaur. Owen decided to use the funny stickers on one side, and the realistic stickers on the other side. Way cool idea, I thought. Everyone else at the table just used the funny stickers exclusively. In fact, looking around, it appeared no one used the realistic stickers. I’m wondering why the preference for cutesy, fuzzy-wuzzy dinos. Cute puppies, now that makes sense. But when I think of carnivorous 6-ton dinosaurs, my mind doesn’t go to cute. Oh well. If we understood what people under ten years old were thinking, we could let them vote and then all of our problems would be solved.

Anyway, here are pictures of my son showing of his Cretaceous model:

Here’s the funny side of the beast. There’s a lever on the back of his skull (just like in real-life!) allowing the mouth to open.

Here, Owen and his dimples show off the realistic side of the dino. You know, the side that doesn’t demean one of the most magnificent animals to ever grace this planet.

Here’s a picture I’m including just to demonstrate the funny dino’s tongue. Look at it just dangling there! Hilarious! Somewhere, a T. rex is rolling over in its grave.

Thursday, 26 January 2012

Today, I finally updated the Words of the Year page here on my blog. In case you have no idea what I’m talking about, direct your eyes to the top of this page. You’ll see four tabs. Click on the one that says “Words of the Year.” Then read the five very short paragraphs.

I know not everyone is a linguaphile like myself, but I still think you’ll all see how choosing a word every year is a great way to track the changes that occur in my life. By simply reading the words I’ve selected each year since 1999, you can see places I have moved to, children that have come into my life, jobs I have had, schooling, and religious events in my life.

Second, the four of us (JamesJenniferOwenIsla) went to Freestyle Yogurt this evening. It’s a new yogurt shop here in St. Paul at the crossroads of Lexington and Randolph (better known as “Where Trader Joe’s is located”). The way it works is you grab a paper bowl, then select one or more of about 12 different yogurt flavors, then head over to this buffet of toppings, including candy, fruit, nuts, and syrup. The bowls are a little on the large size, which I’m sure is intentional because the cost racks up by the ounce.

Don’t get me wrong, though, I think charging by the ounce is a great idea to keep me from pigging out. I think if there was just a flat fee of, say, $4.00 for yogurt, I would pile that sucker high with every topping in the place and then just sit down inside the bowl like I was taking a yogurt bath. But charging by the ounce…it forces me a modicom of restraint.

After weighing our options (pun intended) we sat down in the highly swank dining area (Owen and I sat at the surfboard table). The desserts were superb. I ate every bite, which, of course, goes without saying, because if I didn’t eat it, it wouldn’t be a bite. Tasty. Tasty. Tasty. Jennifer pointed out that it was pretty healthy, too, which is the sort of thing she has too tell us when were gorging on chocolate.

Afterward, I grabbed a bumper sticker and slapped it on my laptop (my computer – not my thighs). Owen picked up a marker and drew a robot on their wall (in the designated drawing circles).

Anyway, I recommend the place. Support a local business. Go there.

Friday, 27 January 2012

This evening, my wife and I patroned the theater for a matinee showing of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.

This was my first time at the theater since May sixth of last year, when Owen and I went to see Rio. I was a bit torn as to what we should see, since – in a stroke of coincidence – my two favorite novels from this century were both made into motion pictures and released to theaters within a week of each other. (The other one is The Invention of Hugo Cabret.)

Jennifer nixed my idea of sitting in the back row and making out the whole time, which is too bad because this might have been a far more interesting blog post than it is. Winner = Jennifer

She also said she doesn’t like when I buy snacks and then sneak them into the theater, because that’s rude to the theater. I told her I don’t care about theaters’ feelings. Winner = James

For those keeping score: Jennifer – 1; James – 1

So…I’m always a bit apprehensive when an extremely well-written novel is made into a film. I think this apprehension comes from the fact that so many page-to-screen transformations positively suck. There are only two cases, in my opinion, that the movie was better than the book:

Jurassic Park (the movie) is better than Jurassic Park (the book). The former finally gave viewers the magnificent creatures that had long since died out. The latter was just a heavy-handed sermon on the dangers of mutating frog DNA.

The Ten Commandments (the movie) is better than Exodus (the book). The former is an epic story, the latter is a wordy, repetitive list of names.

Charleton Heston: living intense.

So, in these cases, it was almost easy for the films to outstrip the source material, since the books weren’t that great. But when a book is awesome…the movie inevitably fails (I’m looking at you, 1984).

Well, the record remains in tact: Extremely Lou (that’s what the marquee at the theater called it) is not as good as the book.

But it’s still a very good flick.

The cinematography and editing did an admirable job of capturing the cluttered thoughts in Oskar’s brain and the photographs that are so integral to the story. The acting also left me pleased. I like Tom Hanks work, but I’m not crazy about Sandra Bullock. In this movie, though, I thought Hanks’ character was a bit one-dimensional, and some of his scenes made me cringe with embarrassment. Bullock, on the other hand, toned it down enough to where I really liked her character.

I think this is Sandra Bullock. It might be Steven Tyler, though – I can’t really tell them apart anymore.

While the book fascinates by showing us Oskar’s point-of-view, however, the film doesn’t have that luxury; we have to observe him from the outside. Still, Thomas Horn does an excellent, believable job as Oskar, which I’m sure must’ve been a difficult role to portray. Also top-notch was Max Von Sydow, as The Renter, who steals every scene he’s in. His Best Supporting Actor nod is well-deserved.

The two negative critiques I heard about the movie were…

1) Using the events of 9/11 to tell a fictional tale is exploitative

2) The book leaves Oskar’s mental “condition” ambiguous, while the movie ruins it by stating that he is autistic.

Let me respond to both of those criticisms:

They are moronic.

There’s nothing exploitative about using a real tragedy as backdrop to a fictional story. It’s been done for centuries. There is nothing disrespectful or irreverent toward the events or victims of 9/11.

Additionally…the movie never tells us Oskar is autistic. The only explicit dialog regarding his difference is by Oskar himself. He tells The Renter he was once tested for Asberger’s Syndrome, but that results were inconclusive.

The film is faithful to the book, filled with the mystery, suspense, sadness, and hope that the novel is likewise fraught with. All in all, a good time at the theater. Even if we didn’t make out for two hours.

Wednesday, 25 January 2012

Well, I had a fruitful and eventful day, but the highlight has to be that I was given a standing ovation! I was quite honored in the moment, but after sitting down I felt even more honored because, well, I don’t believe I’ve ever had a standing ovation before.

Details:

Back in December of 2010, I delivered my first speech in Toastmaster, which is called the “Ice Breaker Speech.” I decided to break the ice with my new club by telling them about four unique events in my life. Among other events, I gave a brief overview of my appearance on the Oprah Winfrey Show. Ever since then, members of the club have joked with me about talking backwards, and they even asked me to demonstrate it one day. I considered giving a speech about being on Oprah’s show, but I just wasn’t that excited about it.

Then, about four months ago, while brainstorming ideas for themes, someone (not me) suggested having a backwards meeting. I guess other clubs have done this and it’s supposed to be fun. The meeting begins by being adjourned. Then members get up and give the timer and grammar report. Then the evaluators (who haven’t even heard the speeches!) get up and evaluate the speakers. Then the speakers deliver their speeches. Then the grammarian introduces the word of the day. Then the President goes over any important items. Then the meeting is called to order.

Yeah, it’s silly. I wasn’t even crazy about the idea, ’cause I thought it would just be a big laugh-fest with no constructive feedback or criticism to learn from.

Still, I figured that, in keeping with the theme, I would talk about talking backwards.

As it was to be my eighth speech, I was working on “Getting comfortable with visual aids.”

So here’s what I did:

First, I called up a Power Point slide in which words appeared on the screen one-by-one. Here’s what gradually appeared:

Hello fellow Toastmasters!
I am speaking backwards right now. Don’t get me wrong, I still started with that first word – “hello,” but I said it backwards. So it sounded like “olleh.” Then I said “fellow” backwards, then “Toastmasters.” I know it’s confusing. It’s pointless, too. That is why I almost never do it. But it seemed appropriate today. Okay, I will stop now.

As the words appeared, I spoke them backwards. The members, many of whom have joined since my first speech and had no idea I could talk backwards, were very quiet and amazed. When I was done reading the slide, they broke into applause. Wow!

Then I told them how I first became interested in reversing words, by telling a tale my grandfather once told me of his middle name Otto. I had the name “Otto” written on a transparency and I rotated it 360 degrees to show people how the name was the same from every angle. I then flipped the transparency over, showing that it still said “Otto.”

I said that this caused me to become fascinated with finding other words that, when reversed, remained the same word. I told them that back when I was a kid, I did not know such lists were in books, so I began looking at all words, trying to see which ones fit the bill. These words are called palindromes, I explained, and I moved onto the next slide that displayed a list of about two dozen palindromes.

“There are three things I learned when trying to find palindromes,” I said. The first is: there’s not very many of them. The second is: though some words are not palindromes, they are semordnilaps, and I then showed a slide listing about ten words, such as “diaper,” “lager,” and “straw.” After defining “semordnilap,” I revealed the corresponding list that showed the words became “repaid,” “regal,” and “warts,” respectively. I pointed out that “semordnilap,” when reversed, makes the word “palindromes,” meaning that “semordnilap” is, itself, a semordnilap, which makes it an autonym – everyone got a kick out of this super-duper language nerd-dom.

I told them that if they wish to learn more, they should check out Richard Lederer’s book Crazy English, which even features an interview with a fictitious doctor (Doctor Rotcod, appropriately) who speaks in only palindromic phrases. I then explained what a palindromic phrase is, and displayed a slide listing a few, such as:

Madam, I’m Adam

Rise to vote, sir

Do geese see God?

I next told them that another person interested in such phrasing is Weird Al, and I played a clip from his music video “Bob:”

Getting back to my own fascination, I listed off the third thing I learned: that after searching through the language looking for palindromes, I eventually came to the realization that I knew how to say pretty much every word backwards, whether or not it made any sense at all. I said that even though I think it’s a silly talent, classmates, co-workers, and friends have found it hilarious. So, one day, I thought maybe the whole country would find it hilarious. I therefore wrote to several talk show hosts and, less than two months later, I found myself on stage with one of them.

As I began to play this clip, one lady in the audience said, “No way!”

I held up my signed letter from Oprah and told everyone that I tell my wife we should be grateful that life has never been so bad that we’ve had to sell this letter for groceries. (More laughter ensued.) I concluded by saying that, in retrospect, I should have known that Oprah would have been the one most interested, since her production company is named Harpo. I then showed a slide with the word “Harpo” on it which then reversed to show it was “Oprah” backwards.

A final slide gradually revealed words that thanked them for listening which, as at the start, I recited backwards.

Applause…and then one of the club members stood and said, “standing ovation!” Everyone followed suit.

I was humbled and honored.

My evaluator (who happens to be the club’s former president) wrote in my book, “Best speech we have had!”

And, to top it off, when the grammarian got up at the end of the meeting to announce the word of the day, she said it was “Palindrome,” a word she selected for its appropriateness to the occasion. No one else used the word, but I used it seven times.

Maybe it’s not such a useless talent.

Monday, 23 January 2012

If you want to see how incredibly adorable my daughter is, CLICK ON OVER to my wife’s blog, where she has posted five recent videos (as in, from the past four months) of Isla engaging in age-appropriate antics.

This evening, Owen and I read a couple chapters from The Invisible Island, by Ron Roy. We’re working our way through all the A to Z Mystery books. Yes, there is one book for each letter of the alphabet (plus five more – go figure).

The first book in the series that we read was The Talking T. Rex. Of course, the series starts with the letter A, but we didn’t know that it was a series at the time. We just happened to be at Como Zoo, and Owen saw the book sitting on a rack, and he asked if we could buy it. It only cost like $4, so I figured it was a decent bargain. When I was paging through the book later, I realized it was part of a series. So, we finished up the T book, then started with the A book. Now we are up to the letter I.

These are quite perfect books for us. There’s nothing too scary or upsetting for Owen. The mysteries keep us both interested in turning the pages, and each chapter takes us about 15 minutes to read. So, on late nights, we read one chapter. If we manage to settle down for the evening a little earlier, we read two or three chapters.

I whole-heartily endorse them for the 5-10 year old in your life.

Tuesday, 24 January 2012

One of my co-workers was kind enough to give me a ride to and from work today while the mechanics dismantled our Saturn looking for all the money I’ve made this week.

On the way home this evening, she made an astute observation. She has no children, but she is engaged, and she’s starting to think that kids might be in store for her near future. Nevertheless, she’s a bit nervous about the prospect of having the responsibility of taking care of a tiny human.

She noted that her friends that currently have children are often unable or unwilling to go out for fun evenings. Normally, everyone just assumes this is because kids are a big hassle: you have to get them to bed early, you can’t keep them in their seat at a restaurant, and you don’t dare bring them to that slasher movie everyone is raving about. However, my one-day carpooler said that her friends often bow out due to cost. Think about it: if you want to go to a restaurant with friends, bringing your kid means another meal to buy (okay, so we’re not talking about infants here, obviously), but leaving your kid home means paying for a baby-sitter. She said, more often than not, her friends decline offers not because of parental duties, but because of increased cost.

I thought that was an interesting observation. I was going to tell her that my wife and I usually decline invitations because we just don’t like people, but I don’t really know this co-worker that well, and I wanted to stay on her good side for the next time the car mechanics feel like eating my paycheck.