Sunday, 24 July 2011

During that state of half awake/half asleep that I always experience during mornings when I stay in bed late, I had dream that was unique in its detail.

For no apparent reason, I was suddenly in the home my grandparents’ owned in the 1980s. They lived there for about nine years and, during that time, my immediate family and I lived there with them for about two months. It was an A-frame house, with a high, peaked ceiling in the center and steeply sloping walls on the side.

For some reason I was there with many of my relatives. I was my present age, but most everyone else was the age they were years ago.

In the large dining room, my grandparents had a big, heavy table. One of my uncles was sitting at the table. So was my mom and my sister. Jennifer was there, too, standing off to the side with Owen. My grandfather was not there, thought I didn’t notice this until after I woke up and thought about the dream.

When I lived there, they kept an old comfy chair in the corner of that room but in my dream, the chair was replaced by a large-screen TV. I was standing near the TV, watching what was on screen. And guess what was on screen? Well, you’ll never guess, so I’ll just tell you.

It was the music video to “We Are the World.” You know, the one where all the celebrities are in a big room, swaying back and forth, swapping turns at the microphones, and holding hands like they’re all best friends. (And if you don’t know what I’m talking about, CLICK HERE.)

My dream came into focus right at the fifty-second mark, when Kenny Rogers says “We can’t go on / pretending day by day,” then James Ingram finishes by saying, “that someone, somewhere/ will soon make a change.” In my brain (which does not have this song memorized), my dream then moved right on to the two-minute mark of the video, when Willie Nelson delivers the most faith-based line of the song: “As God has shown us/by turning stone to bread.”

So while I was standing there watching this video, my grandma and Isla were standing directly in front of the TV singing along and swaying to the music. Isla was standing right at my grandma’s feet, kind of leaning on my grandma’s legs to steady herself. My Grandma had a hand on Isla’s shoulder to hold her there. This is pretty much the stage Isla is at in real life: She can stand very well, especially if she’s supported somehow, and she likes to look at the TV and to sway back and forth whenever there’s any sort of music playing.

My grandma was holding something in her hand, which I believe was a microphone. It was as if she and Isla were doing karaoke. Which, in a way, is weird, because I can’t really see my grandma ever singing like that, and I don’t think she’s ever owned a karaoke set-up.

Anyway, I remember thinking that I was happy that Isla got to meet her great-grandma. But only in my dream, of course. In reality, Isla’s and her great-grandma’s lives have overlapped by nearly a year now, and they have never been in contact with one another.

Saturday, 23 July 2011

First:

Turns out, some Edmonton mom is upset that a church passed out candy to her daughter at a playground. I would be upset, too. Notice, in the video, the mom simply says other people might have other “intentions,” but the journalist inserted the word “good” into the write-up below. Bad journalist! The mom didn’t say the church had “good intentions” (and they didn’t), she only said they had “intentions.”

Her daughter Angeline, meanwhile, said she doesn’t like taking “candy from strangers,” and I have to add that I think it’s very astute of that young girl to recognize that Christians are stranger than most.

Second:

Back on June 2nd, I blogged about my experience being a chaperone for Owen’s Kindergarten class as they attended a performance at the Ordway.

Here’s an excerpt from that blog post:

Oddly, the creators’ homepage titles the play Darwin the Dinosaur, while the staff at the Ordway introduced it as Corbian the Dinosaur (and, in fact, that’s what they call it at their site). Not sure why the difference. I wrote to the Ordway to ask them but, as of yet, no response.

I realize that I never provided any updates on that.

In fact, a few days later, I did receive an update. A very polite, friendly-sounding woman from the Ordway called and left a message on my voicemail. Here’s what she said:

Hi James this is XXXXXXXX from Ordway center for the performing arts. I am returning a message. We received an email from you via the Ordway contact form asking about our choice in titling Corbian the Dinosaur that rather than Darwin.

Indeed with this particular company, you have the choice of one name or the other, because some places and locations and markets have had some issue with Darwin and the scientific notations that that means and, kind of, the connections that sometimes Darwin can have especially for school groups and so to be as inclusive as possible we chose one of the options which was Corbian the Dinosaur. So I hope that gives you some understanding.

You definitely saw the exact same performance. The Corbian visual arts and dance just allows this particular performance the option of two different names however your market wants to handle it.

Thanks so much for coming out to the Flint Hills International Children’s Festival. It was great to have you here. And if you have any other questions, feel free to give me a call my direct line is XXX-XXX-XXXX. Thanks again. Take care James. Bye.

So, let me make this clear before going forward: I have nothing negative to say about this woman nor about the Ordway. As I said, she was very polite in her message, and she offered a thorough, honest response. Also, I can understand that the Ordway wishes to be as inclusive as possible. In fact, I’m not even gonna say anything negative about Corbian, because they too offered us an outstanding experience and I can understand that, being artists, they want their work to be seen and enjoyed by as many people as possible.

Instead, I’ll just say something negative about religion (and that’s not being pessimistic, it’s just being realistic). The Ordway representative noted that the name “Darwin” carries “scientific notations” and that it has some kind of “connections.” She’s right: Darwin is very rightly associated with science. And who could possibly have an “issue” with that? Oh, I don’t know…maybe the home-schoolers that were in the audience. Or, more correctly, their parents. Or maybe the Christian parents of schooled children, too. I mean, they’re the one who deny evolution, right?

What’s weird though is that the show did not touch on evolution at all. It was just the story of a dinosaur created in a lab by a human. So, even if you’re Christian apologist who refuses to accept evolution or 99% of our ancestors’ history, you still shouldn’t have had any problem with this performance. Corbian’s website (linked above) clearly states the word “Darwin” in the performance’s title, and it’s no secret that the show features a dinosaur, so if anyone was that easily offended, they had ample warning to stay home. Heck, even back when I was a Christian, I wouldn’t have been offended by a show named “Darwin the Dinosaur, I just would’ve thought, “Yeah, that makes sense, since Darwin did stuff with fossils.”

But maybe that’s one reason why I’m not a Christian anymore. After all, as my favorite scripture says, “the taking of offense is what rests in the bosom of the stupid ones” (Ecc. 7:9), so if I wasn’t stupid enough to be offended, then I wasn’t a good Christian.

Anyway, if it was up to me, I would have titled the performance Owen the Dinosaur, after Robert Owen, the man who coined the term ‘dinosaur.’ But I may be biased.

Thursday, 21 July 2011

This afternoon, the group I work for had an outing at a local park. There was catered food, bocci ball, and badminton. The two games were in tournament style, complete with large brackets taped up to the side of the pavilion where participants wrote in their names as they moved up the rankings.

I was in the bocci ball tournament. My team lost their first game, so I had a lot of down time. In between eating ice cream (oh my god! Reece’s Pieces ice cream is like, the best dessert ever) and playing Uno, I checked out the two tables worth of prizes. The plan was, right at the end of the picnic, someone would draw names out of a bowl and the person named would then get to come up and select a prize.

While looking over the prizes, I decided that my first pick would be the camping chairs. Jennifer and I don’t have any nice chairs like that and when we’ve gone camping, or even just a few weeks ago when we were sitting on the shores of the St. Croix watching the fireworks, it would’ve been nice to have some camping chairs. So that was my first choice. But I knew that they would be a popular option so, unless my name was called first or second, I probably wouldn’t get the chairs.

My second choice, I decided, would be one of the bocci ball sets. My third choice would be the board game Fact or Crap, which I’ve never played before but it looked like a fun trivia game in the same spirit (though perhaps not quite as good) as Wits and Wagers.

A couple of hours later, after playing Uno with some co-workers, arguing with them over the rules of the game, and ultimately being proved correct, everyone gathered around for the prizes. First the bocci ball and badminton champions received their gift cards for their superior sportsmanship. Then came the drawings.

The first person to have his name pulled out of the bowl was someone I don’t know, but he went up to the tables and began poking around at everything, as if he couldn’t decide. He started asking questions like, “how do you play this game?” and he began carefully inspecting things like the mini-grill and the Igloo coolers. Some co-workers started heckling him for taking so long.

Finally, the VIP in charge decided to move on while that guy continued to weigh the pros and cons of selecting a badminton set over Guesstures.

My name was called second and, in contrast to my uncertain co-workers, I walked straight up to the camping chairs, grabbed the handles, and sat back down. The woman sitting next to me said, “You don’t mess around, do you?”

No. I don’t.

Here are the two chairs (one of them is in the bag, at left). The baby was sold separately.

Here’s another shot of the chairs, with the model donning a more contemplative expression for this picture.

Friday, 22 July 2011

So, for most of my life (from 1978-2005), the planet Pluto had only one natural satellite: Charon. It was discovered by James Christy and the finding went a long way towards demoting Pluto from the coveted Planet status.

Then, in the middle of 2005, The Hubble Space Telescope team discovered Nix and Hydra (go team!). This meant Pluto had at least three satellites, making Earth once again the only planet with only one natural satellite.

And guess what just happened this week? Pluto, no longer a planet anymore, has been found to have four natural satellites (at least)! READ MORE ABOUT IT HERE. Good for Pluto. I’m glad it has some company to console it now that it kicked out of the Planet Club. Notice IN THIS PRESS RELEASE, however, that New Horizons’ Principal Investigator Alan Stern refers to Pluto as a planet.

This makes me even more excited for New Horizons’ arrival to Pluto. It still has a ways to go on its journey, but it’s past the halfway point and, by December, it will be closer to Pluto than any other human-made object ever. New Horizons is scheduled to make its closest approach to Pluto in 2015.

Also, the dipshits on Kentucky’s Department of Fish and Wildlife Resources commission think we need to start killing Sandhill Cranes. Sign THIS PETITION to US Secretary of the Interior Ken Salazar asking him to deny this law.

Tuesday, 19 July 2011

Have you seen the new flick The Undefeated yet? It’s a documentary about Sarah Palin. According to the Los Angeles Times, and it’s still awaiting it’s first positive review (from a professional critic). This really makes me want to see the movie. I wonder if it really is that bad, or if critics’ preconceived notions were just confirmed. In reading the article, it appears to be the former – even conservative news outlets are giving it bad press. Best line in the article:

blogger Kirsten Boyd Johnson said the film opened “to exactly the amount of excitement visible on the faces of trapped subway car passengers standing next to someone who has just [passed gas].”

But if you want to read a funnier article – about a journalist who pushed through the crowds of Harry Potter fans in order to interview attendees at the Sarah Palin flick, READ THIS. Turns out, the journalist was the only person in the theater.

IMDb users, meanwhile, have afforded it a score of 1.6 out of 10.

Here’s a positive review of The Undefeated. It’s from Ben Howe, a friend of the director. Howe says he was “blown away.” He also says that, after watching the film, he felt shame. My guess is he masturbated through it.

I’m putting this on my Netflix queueueue.

Wednesday, 20 July 2011

So I guess this isn’t really about today, but since I finally figured out how to extract the image from my cellular telephone and get it onto my computer today, then technically it has something to do with today. Here goes…

I was driving southbound on Snelling Avenue in Roseville last week, and I suddenly found myself driving behind an SUV. Specifically, it was a dark green Mazda Tribute. After a minute or so, I noticed the vehicle’s license plate. It was a vanity plate, and (since I now have a phone that allows me to take photos) I just had to snap a picture of it. Here it is:

Okay, so I know that cell phone cameras (well, mine at least) are not known for taking the best quality pictures. But it was the best I could do. In case you can’t read the plate, it says: JEHOVAH.

Wow!

How exciting!

I never would have guessed that Jehovah drove a tribute. When I was growing up, I was taught that the Almighty God drove something more akin to this:

But, facts are facts. And the fact is: He Who Causes To Become drives a Mazda Tribute. In a way, this makes sense. Since he has unlimited resources, he probably doesn’t care that he’s only getting 11 miles to the gallon. And while Dodge’s Omni is probably a more appropriate vehicle name for a deity, I can see why a selfish megalomaniac like Jehovah would find “Tribute” to be fitting as well.

After taking this photo, I just had to see what God looked like. I know that Exodus 33:20 says that no one can look upon God’s face and live, but I figured that, like everything else in the bible, that verse is probably false, too. So I decided to chance it.

Anyway, you heard it hear first, people: Jehovah’s ‘image’ is that of a clean-shaven black male, approximately 30 years old. He drives a Mazda Tribute.

And he has vanity plates.

Sunday, 17 July 2011

I went into the public library last week and decided to check out some random books. After having read so much for college, book reviews, and my son, I decided it was time for me to read some stuff that didn’t require me taking notes for subsequent tests or reviews, and that didn’t require me to read out loud to a six-year old.

I left with three books: The Little Book of String Theory, by Steven S. Gubser; Ice, by Karal Marling, and Billy Joel, by Mark Bego.

I quickly dispensed with the first book; too much of it was stuff I had read before.

Ice appealed to me because, well, I like reading books that take one single thing and expand on the history of it. I read an entire book on pi, for example. Also, the author is from Minnesota, and a quick flip through the book revealed that she sprinkled her prose with local flavor (ice fishing, the winter carnival, Fargo).

It’s a really poorly written book, unfortunately. The author jumps from one topic to the next with seemingly little background information. She spends far too much time on things that are not ice-related (why six pages about Uncle Tom’s Cabin?) and never bothers getting into some of the more fascinating facts about ice. The narrative is often interrupted with indented paragraphs of no relevance to the topic at hand (I guess they’re supposed to be ‘fun facts,’ but they’re just annoying) and it reads in fits and starts on several topics. It ends with a glossary of words the author never used in the text. The glossary is not alphabetical, either, which just seems strange. And either the index is useless, or I just wanted to find obscure facts, because the five times I referenced to index, the topic I wanted to find was not in there.

Here’s a grievance I want to spell out in particular, though:

On page 156, Marling, a professor at the U of M, says: “in the autumn, President McKinley was assassinated at the Buffalo fair…”

Wrong.

McKinley was assassinate in the summer. I suppose Marling could mount the argument that early September is essentially autumn, but that would be a lousy argument. At any rate, why even say ‘autumn’? Why not just begin the sentence by saying, “In September…”?

In the very next paragraph, Professor Marling notes that St. Louis geared up for a World’s Fair in 1904, “honoring the Louisiana Purchase of 1804.” I’m sorry, but since when do professors not check their facts? I mean, aren’t they the ones who insist that students back  up their facts with credible sources? I’m glad I attend Hamline, because if Marling is the kind of person teaching at the U of M, I shudder to think what kind of misinformation the students leave with.

My source for both McKinley’s assassination and the date of the Louisiana Purchase is my brain. However, since I (unlike Marling) recognize that my brain might be incorrect, I will now type a few key words into Google and try to find a more reputable source (something U of M professors evidently can’t be bothered to do).

McKinley was assassinated in the summer.

The Louisiana Purchase occurred in 1803.

And while we’re on the subject of Americans-who-don’t-know-their-own-history, let’s take a look at Bego’s biography of Billy Joel.

This is another half-assed book. Bego repeats the same facts – the same lines, even – several times. His sentences are terrible. Maybe I’ll start noting the worst offenders for a future post (assuming I finish the book). In chapter two, for example, we are told at least three times that Billy Joel did not have a TV while growing up. That was certainly interesting the first time, but by the third mention, I felt like Bego was insulting me, as if I’ couldn’t be trusted to hold onto the fact that Joel didn’t watch TV all evening like his peers.

Anyway, Bego’s snafu is both more understandable (he’s not a professor, after all) and less understandable (his error is from a more recent event – an event that occurred during his lifetime). On page 28, Bego states “And then on November 21, 1963, President Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas.”

Come on, you say. This is just one mistake. One little mistake in a big book.

To that, I say: Yes, but if I caught this one mistake, who knows how many others I didn’t catch. Bego says that Billy has an older sister, is he right? I don’t know. I can’t trust him.

And getting Kenndy’s assassination date wrong is so grievous – after all, it would require the research efforts akin to asking anyone you meet on the street if they know when Kennedy was killed – that it just smacks of lazy writing. It’s not a daily blog, Bego, it’s a fucking book. Get it right.

I wouldn’t be surprised if, later in Bego’s book, he mentions that 9/11 took place on 9/12.

I would, at least, appreciate the consistency.

Monday, 18 July 2011

Today I finished reading Ice (see above). This less-than-mediocre book gets one more mention on my blog for one reason only: It represents the 800th book I have read.

“Wait!” you scream, “Surely you have already read 800 book by now!”

“Yes,” I say, adding, “calm down.”

Allow me to explain.

I maintain a list of books that I’ve read. Since 1989, I have kept and updated this list with the express goal of reading 1,000 books.

The tricky thing is…what is a book?

It’s a tougher question than you might think. For one thing, what’s the minimum number of pages a text must have before it becomes a book? My daughter, for example, has several board books. Surely they’re books, yet most of them have less than 10 pages and not more than two dozen words.

And what about periodicals such as Life and National Geographic. They’re not called books, yet they have more pages than many things that are called books.

So, I had to set some ground rules.

1) I had to have read the book cover-to-cover.

Okay, so I allow myself some leeway by stipulating that I don’t need to read the acknowledgments, index, or bibliography. But I do have to read everything else. In college this past spring, for example, I probably read about 300 pages out of a book, yet I did not add it to my list because I didn’t read the whole thing.

2) The book has to have at least 40 pages.

I’ve upped this twice. When I first made the list back in 1989 (with about 100 books listed), I didn’t care how few pages a book had; if it was a book, I counted it. Then, sometime in the mid-1990s, I decided the book had to have 32 pages. This forced me to remove dozens of books that are just too easy. I don’t think a book that has fewer pages than a phone bill and fewer words than this sentence should rightly count towards my goal. Then, just a few months ago, I upped the minimum to 40 pages as, once again, I felt there were too many easy books on the list. Also, I had read several brochures that were 32 pages, and I didn’t think they shouldn’t count, either.

3) No books for little kids.

As I’ve stated, this includes not just super-easy board books, but other books for the very young, too, such as nearly all titles by Dr. Seuss, and books like Where the Wild Things Are and Harold and the Purple Crayon. They’re great books, don’t get me wrong, they’re just too simple. I wish this wasn’t such an arbitrary rule, but I don’t know how to improve it. I mean, Owen and I just finished reading Henry and Ribsy, and I counted that book. After all, it had over 200 pages and thousands of words…but where do I draw the line? It’s tough.

4) Don’t count any book more than once

Of course, there are several books I’ve read two, three, or more times. But no book can count more than once. If I read an updated version of a book, I do amend the title and number of pages on my list as appropriate, but it still only counts as one book.

So, yeah, anyways…I’m at 800 now. If I keep up my current pace of approximately 45 books a year, I should meet my ultimate goal sometime in 2016.

Unless I change the page number rule again.

And finally, I am in favor of using the Oxford comma. It seems natural, logical. When I was in elementary school, I just assumed everyone used it and I had to unlearn using it. I’m pleased to see it’s making a comeback.