Wear Yellow

I have a friend and former co-worker named Sherry. She is younger than me (several years younger, in fact) and she was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. This diagnosis seemed doubly harsh, coming only a couple of weeks after she lost her mom to brain cancer.

Sherry's medical prognosis is excellent. Following surgery last week, the doctors found no evidence of cancer cells in the lymph glands, and it's likely that she'll recover fully and completely, following a round of chemo just to make sure that any stray cells get zapped. It's a cliché, but it's also true: she's a fighter and she'll win this fight.

Visiting with her and her husband on Sunday afternoon made me think about ways to show some tangible support for her. Coincidentally, the new edition of Bicycling Magazine arrived the day before, and I came across a full-page ad while skimming through it yesterday. The ad is for "Wear Yellow," a campaign which is a joint creation of Nike and the Lance Armstrong Foundation (LAF). The LAF was created to provide support, education and other resources for cancer survivors; everyone knows the remarkable story about Armstrong's own bout with the disease.

"Wear Yellow" is an allusion to the yellow jersey worn by the Tour de France leader, the jersey worn at the end of five such races by Armstrong. It's a symbol of victory in the face of tremendous challenges, and it's a fitting symbol for the cause of supporting cancer survivors.

Instead of a jersey, "Wear Yellow" supporters purchase a yellow silicone rubber wristband imprinted with the words "LiveStrong." Bands can be purchased for a buck apiece in packs of 10, 100 or 1,200 via this website, or you can buy individual bands at Nike stores or via Nike's website. I've ordered a 10 pack, and plan to give bands to some mutual friends who are also cyclists. I also clicked the "donate" button to add a little something extra to the Foundation's funding.

If you know a cancer survivor -- and, nowadays, who doesn't? -- this is a great way to show visible support while providing important financial support to a worthy cause.

Yet Another *yawn* National Award

[Note: I briefly contemplated the creation of a new category entitled "Me, Me, Me..." but discarded the idea. I feared that such a category might give the mistaken impression that not everything on this blog is about me.]

The local Boy Scout council has won a "National President's Award for Marketing Excellence" for Best Website (www.buffalotrailbsa.org). These awards are given annually in eight categories for three classifications of councils based on size.

The local council also won a national award for Best Public Relations, for its publicity campaign in advance of General Tommy Franks coming to Midland to receive the Scouts' Distinguished Citizens Award. I didn't have anything to do with that campaign.

But the website? Well, shucks...yep...I designed it. ;-)

Congratulations to Mark Compton and the folks at the Buffalo Trail Council. They actually did the heavy lifting; a website is useless without meaningful content, and they've provided just about everything you'd ever want to know about local scouting on their site.

Writer's Cramp or RMS? Hmmm...

Jared over at Mysterium Tremendum poses an interesting question for all actual and aspiring writers: which do you prefer in the practice of your craft, handwritten or computer-generated text?

I was intriged to learn that one of my favorite authors, Neal Stephenson, has now returned to drafting his excellent novels in longhand, following the disastrous crash of a laptop. Stephenson's books tend to be long and his storylines exceedingly complex, and I can't imagine getting it done by hand, especially after coming to rely on a timesaving tool like a word processor.

As I mentioned in a comment to Jared's post, I find my own handwriting to be less than inspiring, and that fact tends to distract me from the primary task of generating ideas. I'm sure that's a symptom of OCD, but that's my reality.

[I'd like to say that if I could connect a feed directly from my brain to my hard drive and bypass the keyboard, that would be even better, but to be honest it would be a disaster of the first order. My mind is all over the map, it seems, and I rarely think in complete sentences. When I was in the corporate world, I never could give dictation worth a darn. Fortunately, about the point in my career where that skill might have become required, corporate culture changed and only CEOs had secretaries. But that's another post for another time.]

Pixel Lust

Apple just announced a new 30" high def flat panel Cinema Display. An order placed before midnight tonight still technically qualifies as a birthday present for me (hint, hint).

HBDTM

Today is my birthday, and it's been a good one. MLB took a spur-of-the-moment day of vacation and we just hung out together: early and leisurely breakfast at IHOP, 20 mile tandem ride in the delightfully cool weather (saw three tarantulas crossing the road in a two mile stretch), a matinee showing of "Harry Potter" complete with large tub of popcorn and diet cokes, and a decadent post-movie snooze in the living room recliner with a rerun of "The Cosby Show" droning in the background. Pretty dull, huh? Sometimes dull is really, really good. You should try it sometime.

The only downer on the day is that she had to leave to attend a monthly credit union board meeting, so we won't get to have dinner together. But that's OK. The 10 extra hours with her more than offsets the three apart. I'm a blessed man!

Moral? Says Who?

How do you react when you read a statement like this:

Jack Rich over at Life, Liberty & the Pursuit of Happiness does an excellent job of explaining why the originator of this quote -- found in today's NYT -- is ever so wrong.

Moore is Less

If you're still wondering whether "Fahrenheit 9/11" is really accurate, or is simply the most current example of technology being used to create a story where none existed before, look no further than the official movie poster.

There should be a new Academy Award to commemorate this achievement: "Best Use of Photoshop To Take 30 Pounds Off A Filmmaker."

If you can't trust a guy to be honest in his own poster, how can you trust his movie?

What a Gorilla Wants

You've heard about Casey, haven't you? He's the gorilla in the New Orleans zoo who is refusing to cooperate with attempts to get him to mate and make little gorillas, thereby doing his part in keeping his endangered species available for public viewing.

The latest twist in the story is that Casey is not responding in the expected manner when shown videos of other gorillas having sex. The zookeepers seem to be at a loss as to what to do next.

I suggest they listen to Deb Thompson over at Write Lightning, who provides what seems to be an eminently logical and sensitive solution: just ask Casey what he wants in a mate. Read the rest here.

El carnaval de los Perros

The Carnival of the Dogs is up. I didn't know there was such a thing, but there is, and Abbye is one of the featured canines, via this recent post about her.

I assume she's OK with this. Well, frankly, she couldn't care less; it's all quite beneath her. But, anyway, I appreciate Jay's nomination to El carnaval, and you are invited to pop over and see what other internet doggie denizens are up to. (Be forewarned: one of the links leads to a post with some salty language. Apparently, certain dogs are potty-mouths, and not just from being tempted to drink when the lid is up.)

Blogger Photos

It's always a pleasant surprise to see photos of bloggers whom I've read regularly for months (or even years) but for whom I had only a mental picture based on their words. In a happy coincidence, three of those folks have recently posted photos for the first time (that I'm aware of):

• TulipGirl blogs from the Ukraine, and has posted a photo of herself with her four young sons.


• Bryan McAnally is the proprietor of Spare Change, and he's got wedding photos to celebrate his 9th anniversary.


• Jared goes hard at both The Thinklings groupblog and his own Mysterium Tremendum, and he's got a Father's Day photo with an exceedingly cute little daughter-tyke.

Of course, many bloggers have graced us with photos from day one. Scott over at The Fat Guy greets us on his home page with a pic of him and his bud Billy Joe Shaver. Julie Neidlinger has a self-portrait on her home page, done in appropriately artistic fashion. And Dawn Eden at The Dawn Patrol has posted so many good photos that I'm at a loss to pick just one (although the silver lamé dress has to be near the top of the list!). Here's a recent sample. [Update: Well, what was I thinking? Dawn has plenty of photos on her home page (which leads to her blog). Also, she has a whole series of brand new posts with photos, beginning with this one.]

John Comeaux blogs about Lafayette Life, and he has a constantly rotating set of photos of his whole family on the home page. Clarence over at Can You Hear Me Now? presents a stern visage on the home page, but he's not fooling anyone.

Deb Thompson brings us Write Lightning, and ups the ante for everyone with her Writer Cam, where, if you're fortunate, you can see a real live getting-paid-for-it writer pound it out on the keyboard in semi-realtime. And I know for a fact that Jen over at Jen Speaks has a bunch of photos of herself squirreled away somewhere, because I've seen 'em; I just can't seem to locate them now. [Update: Jen tells me that her photos can be found here. Reload the page to see new ones.]

Dan Morris tries to play coy with us, posting a 30x30 pixel photo of himself waaaaay down on From Behind The Wall of Sleep, under the mistaken impression that no one will notice. Ha! Then there's fellow Midlander Wallace who blogs at Streams. Wallace is a little unique in that he's got a bunch of photos of himself, but usually in tandem with a celebrity, famous politician or war hero. In the linked photo, we see him with a Doobie Brother (really!). Plus, we kill two birds with one stone, because we get to see his lovely new wife AND blogger, Julie, who holds forth at The Yellow Bug News.

Finally, there are the near misses. For example, Irene at ireneQ - unravelled once sent me a pic to photoshop so she could add it to her blog, in response to reader requests. She apparently thought better of it, as it's never appeared. But I know what you look like, Irene! (Here's a hint: she's a beautiful young woman.)

Some time ago, I pitched an idea to the aforementioned Scott aka The Fat Guy. My harebrained scheme centered on the idea of creating a blogger-of-the-month (or day) calendar, with photos of bloggers. Between the two of us, we never could figure out how to make it work, or how to find the time to figure out how to make it work. The idea is now officially released into the public domain. But, based on the photos I've seen thus far on blogs, most of the guys would be better off remaining mysterious. Why do you think I've got photos of my dog here?

What's On Your Car Radio?

Every now and then, I conduct a state-of-the-radio-dial investigation in my car, just to make sure that I'm not channeling the spirit of some border mega-station from the 60s. OK, not really...I just forget what I've got programmed into my radio presets.

Realizing that every detail of my life is fascinating to someone (Mom, are you still there?), it's no burden to share with you the results of the latest survey. Following are the genres represented by the 10 FM presets (maybe we'll cover the AM band in another post) in my humble Durango*:

1. Christian (American Family Radio)
2. Christian (Local)
3. NPR
4. "Today's Hits"
5. Oldies
6. Mix (Rap to Rock to Retro)
7. Christian (K-LOVE)
8. Christian (Local...I think)
9. Country
10. Rock

Frankly, the only station I listen to regularly is K-LOVE**. Unlike many of you, I have no daily commute, so listening time is limited to begin with. Also, I've come to increasingly appreciate the sounds of relative silence while driving, at least around town. (For true road trips, I prefer home-brewed compilation CDs with an jangled mix of blues, "classic rock," CCM and "world music," the latter preferably comprised of familiar songs performed in strange tongues and rhythms.)

*This list was compiled in a relatively safe fashion on the back of an HEB receipt while stopped at every freakin' red light in Midland during a cross-town jaunt. Who synchronizes our traffic lights, anyway? But that's another rant for another day.

**I'd trade K-LOVE for Air 1 in a heartbeat, but we don't have a "franchise" in this area. It is interesting, though, that the only three stations in Texas are all in our relative neighborhood, and within a two hour drive of each other: Lubbock, Plainview (?!) and Amarillo.

Abbyeccentricity

Don't know if I've ever mentioned it before, but the doglike creature who co-habits our house and occasionally answers to the name of Abbye is the possessor of certain, um, behavioral quirks.

She's very suspicious of anything that appears to be wrong, where "wrong" may be defined as "anything she doesn't expect." For example, if one person opens the door so that she may proceed onto the back porch to survey her queendom, and a different person opens the door to let her back in...well, that bears investigation.

When this situation occurs, she'll pause in mid-amble for the briefest moment to touch her nose to the doorperson's leg, just to confirm that he or she is duly authorized to perform that menial task in her presence. If MLB lets her out, and I let her back in, I get the perfunctory leg-sniff. If I let her out and MLB lets her in, same thing.

Recently, I let her out AND back in, but I got the leg-sniff anyway. The reason? I had put on a ballcap after I let her out, and in her doggie little mind, I could now be an entirely different person because my head had taken on a different shape.

I can't imagine where she gets this. Is she afraid that Dr. Jekyll is letting her out, but Mr. Hyde may be waiting for her to come back in? Was she really paying attention when we watched "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" on TV?

I've been meaning to ask her about it, as soon as I can hide my ballcap.

Singing in the Rain

The image at right says it all (well, not really; otherwise, I'd end this post here): we've been blessed by some badly needed rain.

The majority of the 2.3" in my backyard gauge came during a one-hour period beginning around 5:00 p.m. yesterday, but it's been drizzling and spitting more or less continuously since then. We did have a break this morning so that Abbye could take me on a walk, but the forecast is for more to come.

Bring it on, I say. This represents about 2 1/2 months of precipitation for us during an average year, statistically speaking.

The only downside is that I was already a bit behind in my lawn mowing schedule, and this turn of events implies a great challenge when things dry out enough to fire up the cutter. And, as usual, the sprinkler system ran through its usual course earlier in the day, when the chance of rain was simply wishful thinking on the part of certain forecasters. Small price to pay. I'll trade an hour of watering for two inches of the real thing any day.

Non Sense

I have a friend who "sees" the days of the week as colors. If you ask him about having lunch on "blue," he'll check his mental PDA and respond with something like, "Thursday's not good for me, but brown...I mean, Friday...will work."

His son "sees" numbers as colors, so I suppose its an inherited trait. It's called synesthesia, and it's defined as "to perceive together ... a condition in which a two senses are sensed at the same time, where one type of stimulation evokes the sensation of another, as when the hearing of a sound produces the visualization of a color."

Christian songwriter and performer Chris Rice used an unintentional reference to synesthesia in his recent song "Smell the Color 9":

'Cause I can sniff, I can see
I can count up pretty high
But these faculties aren't getting me
any close to the sky
But my heart of faith keeps poundin'
So I know I'm doin' fine
But sometimes finding You
Is just like trying to
Smell the color nine

I call his reference unintentional, because he seems to be saying that finding God sometimes seems impossible, but his referential metaphor obviously doesn't take into account that there are, indeed, people who can "smell the color nine."

I recently ran across a fascinating short story dealing with synesthesia. It's called "The Empire of Ice Cream," written by Jeffrey Ford, and it's included in an anthology entitled "Science Fiction: The Best of 2003." (Incidentally, for those who have despaired of ever again finding new SF that actually has some Sci to go along with the Fi, you'll be quite pleased with this volume; I recommend it highly.)

The protagonist in Mr. Ford's wonderful little story introduces his condition thusly:

The emphasis above is mine, and I believe this observation is key: a condition like synesthesia may be viewed as a blessing or a curse -- an abnormality or a rare occurence of complete normality -- depending on one's outlook.

Even though Chris Rice didn't meet the issue head on, I believe he's in the ballpark in that this issue has spiritual implications. What is there is not what I always see or otherwise sense. I am like the king of Israel who saw only that he was surrounded by Arameans intent on his death, and who didn't see the overwhelming angelic army of fire protecting him until God opened his eyes at the behest of Elisha. I "see through a glass darkly," using only a portion of my physical senses and almost none of my spiritual ones. As such, I'm a bookend to the fictional synesthete in the story; my lack of spiritual perception is considered normal (or not considered at all) by most human standards, but is an undeniable shortcoming by God's.

[Update: This is what I get for posting late at night and trying to re-create Old Testament Bible stories by memory instead of looking them up. It wasn't the king of Israel whose eyes were opened by God, it was Elisha's servant. My bad.]

New Local Geek Directory

The good folks over at MyWestTexas.com have a new service, MyWestTexas Technical Directory. It's a place where computer geeks can pitch their services to the general public, with specific categories for web development, graphic design, programming, networking and PC repair.

In addition to being a yellow pages equivalent for service providers, it also has a "Post a Project" area where clients can publicize their "help wanted" needs in the form of specific project descriptions.

They're offering a free 45-day trial listing for anyone who's interested. I've signed on -- free is good, especially for a free-lancer -- and it will be interesting to see how much traffic (and business) it generates. As with any such advertising approach, there are downsides, and the ongoing cost is probably going to be more than I'm willing to pay unless the 45-day experiment is really successful. I've already canceled my yellow pages ad for next year, as last year's brought in business worth approximately $0.00, and they wanted to double my rate for the privilege of continuing.

Anyway, if you're in the area and either provide these services or need them, hop over and check it out.

Getting Nowhere and Happy About It

If you've been keeping up, you recall that back in February I injured my knee in an unfortunate encounter with a rather antagonistic tree. It was quite painful for several weeks and I probably should have seen a doctor, if only to ensure that I didn't have enough disposable income for another ski trip. Fortunately, the injury was such that it didn't materially affect my ability to bicycle, and I could still limp around the park with Abbye, so things were tolerable.

What I couldn't do, however, is run. I'm not that big a fan of the sport (unlike MLB who has a serious addiction to it and really should be seeking counseling, iykwim), but I will concede that running offers certain benefits over cycling that can't be ignored. For one thing, it's not an equipment-intensive sport; shoes and shorts pretty much covers things (no pun intended). It also provides a workout for different muscle groups. Believe me when I tell you that you cannot adequately train for a cycling event by running, nor vice versa...but you'll come closer to success doing the former than the latter.

Running is also an impact sport, and while your joints will confirm that that carries significant downsides, it also is beneficial for maintaining bone mass, something you young punks don't understand nor care about, but you will, laddies...you will. It's a little disconcerting to contemplate the fact that some elite cyclists in their 30s are already showing early stages of osteoporosis, because their primary workouts do nothing to address bone loss.

Of course, the main thing I've missed by not running is the half hour or so on the treadmill, where my mind is free to wander down any path it so desires, although if the truth be told, it tends to spend most of its time empathizing with my body's mournful protestation of what I'm putting it through.

So, it's with great pleasure that I announce that I am back on the treadmill, and feeling good, if a tad sore. In fact, I climbed on for the first time a couple of weeks ago, but only today have I been able to run at a pre-injury pace and duration, which is my official benchmark for recovery. How did I celebrate? Well, by watching a vintage edition of "Tremors 3: Back to Perfection" on DVD whilst "enjoying" my workout. This straight-to-video sequel is really a quite entertaining movie, and you could do much worse than renting it.

Anyway, it's good to be back on the ol' treadmill. But one of the things I'm most proud of is the fact that I had the discipline to wait more than three months before trying it out. Presumably, with age comes wisdom. I've found that to be rarely the case in my own situation as I seem to have only perfected the process of committing the same mistakes...but every now and then, I surprise myself. I did learn long ago that there are some things you can't comfortably rush. Shaving with a blade is one of them, and recovering from an injury is another. But, as is often the case if we'll have the patience to prove it, the wait is worthwhile.

"Mammoth Proportions"

I note with no small amount of glee that "Fahrenheit 911" will carry an R rating, despite Michael Moore's protest hearing in front of the MPAA. The distributor estimates that the R rating will cut the box office by 20%.

The distributor goes on to say that it's just downright unfair to deprive any Americans of their right to see this movie, because, after all, we all are just waiting with bated breath to do so. Here's a quote from today's Wall Street Journal:

Well, despite the fact that I don't know of a single soul who would go see this movie (even if it was free), I can see how Mr. Sehring might be confused. After all, if the newspapers, TV and "the web" (whatever that means) say it's true, well, then, who are we to argue?

I'm sure there's a moral to this little story just dying for someone more perceptive and articulate than me to let it out. All I can think of is that for some people, the truth is what they want it to be. This goes for film distributors and [some] filmmakers alike.

Morning In The East

As I continue on my great adventure, I miss being able to watch the villages awaken. Currently, I am living in an apartment building that is the center one of 5 identical parallel structures. The view of the countryside is severely limited from here.

The first 10 days I was in this locale, I was living in a 6th floor apartment (the top level) that had windows and a balcony facing the mountains to the east. I relished this daily routine:

Before my quiet time, I sit in the early morning darkness, observing with wonder a life foreign to my own. Small dots of yellow light indicate the day has begun in the villages on the mountainside. With the first light of dawn, ladies from the villages (some barefoot) begin their long trek down the narrow, winding roads to town, carrying their baskets of vegetables, fruits and wicker articles to market. After the onset of pedestrian traffic and just before sunrise, the road and building construction crews emerge from their temporary dwellings as smoke begins to ascend from their cooks‚ charcoal fires. Uniformed children on foot or bicycle hurry off to early morning classes.

The “old people,” as the locals call them, fill the amphitheater in the neighborhood park to exercise for an hour together with their Tai Chi instructors. A few younger and more independent souls are wielding swords or fans as they rehearse graceful dances. Some of the men are walking backward in large circles as a warm up to their workout.

The aromas of hot oil, soy sauce, rice, noodles and vegetables float in the always open windows on each puff of breeze. Punctuating the atmosphere are hawkers, taxi horns, barking dogs, crowing roosters and a very few crying babies. The boom box blares its music across the concrete for the Tai Chi participants. The single cylinder trucks chug their arrival at the construction sites while the river’s rush is drowned by the noises daily life resuming once again.

It’s not even 7:00 a.m. by this time. It’s bright enough to read now without turning on any lights. With a full heart I turn to the Creator of the beauty I’ve seen and His Word.

"The Terminal" - So Close

"The Terminal" comes within 20 minutes of being a very good movie. Unlike some critics (Joe Morgenstern at the Wall Street Journal comes to mind) who think the whole thing is a mess, I enjoyed the film as long as it was telling the story.

Unfortunately, when it came time to end the story, it fell flat on its face, collapsing under the weight of trying to bring logical conclusions to too many illogical storylines. An overbearingly sappy musical score seemed to be an attempt to cover up the fact that the movie ran out of gas before it ran out of film.

When it's good, "The Terminal" is very entertaining, even winsome. There were a number of laugh-out-loud scenes, and a few genuinely touching ones. Tom Hanks is, well, Tom Hanks with a Russian accent, and he's pretty much flawless throughout. Catherine Zeta-Jones, on the other hand, is completely wasted playing a one-dimensional, almost unlikable character.

To be honest, when I first saw the trailer several months back, the concept didn't appeal to me at all. But, on the strength of the director's and performers' reps, I decided to give it a chance. It's ironic that the concept held up its end of the bargain better than the director.

A Strange Trip(lettes)

Just finished watching "Les Triplettes de Belleville," the animated movie from last year that was nominated for two Academy Awards. What an odd little film.

Stylistically, it's an "anti-Shrek" animation, more of a throwback to the hand-drawn classics of the 40s and 50s. But there's nothing crude or sloppy about the animation; the characters are simultaneously believable and outrageous. (For some reason, I got a mental picture of Tex Avery on acid.)

The plot is simple. A professional cyclist is kidnapped (from the Tour de France, no less!) and his grandmother and dog go to herculean extremes to rescue him. Along the way, the would-be rescuers meet up with three spinsterish musicians, the Triplets of Belleville.

Interestingly, this is one of the most accurate portrayals of the life of a professional cyclist that I've ever seen. In a cartoon, everything is exaggerated, and that's the case here...only the exaggeration more closely resembles real life than you might expect. One scene shows the grandmother truing a bike wheel, using a tuning fork and a gift shop replica of the Eiffel Tower. That might be lost on non-cyclists, but it made me smile.

But, really, the movie isn't about cycling; that's just the hook. The music is addictive, especially the theme song which was nominated for an Oscar. (If you watched the broadcast on TV, it was the one that looked like a French version of Spike Jones.)

If you rent the DVD, be sure to watch the extras, especially the music video. And don't forget the operative term: "odd."

[I thought I understood what the movie was about, until I visited the film's message board at IMDB.com. Whew. Some people need to get out more often.]

Job Postings

If you live in the Midland-Odessa area and are looking for work, or know someone who is, you might drop by the Nonprofit Management Center website. There are a half dozen new job postings for positions at area nonprofit agencies, and some of them are rather well-paying (up to $80K, for example).

Vinyl Conversion Status Report, Pt. Dos

The second batch of LPs is in the can, so to speak, having been converted to digital and then copy to CD. Here's the list, along with an observation or two about each record:

• "The Game" - Queen (c. 1980). If I had known then what I know now about Freddy Mercury, would I have still bought this LP? Yeah, for sure; it's a classic, and he had a classic rock voice. Favorite cut: "Don't Try Suicide," probably the most perky tune ever recorded about the subject.


• "Tres Hombres" - ZZ Top (c. 1973). Another classic; loved hearing "La Grange" in "Shanghai Knights," btw. And, I gotta tell you, if the centerfold of the album doesn't raise your cholesterol level 20 points and make you pine for a laminated copy of the Scoville Scale just by looking at it, then you'll never be a real Texan, even in your imagination. That photo is exhibit "A" as to why CDs will never really replace LPs in the hearts and minds of Those Who Know Better.


• "Who Do We Think We Are?" - Deep Purple (c. 1973). Yeah, more DP, dude. The liner notes consist of self-congratulatory headlines and excerpts from articles proclaiming Deep Purple to be the pinnacle of moderne beatmusik. But, still, a very good classic rock album; these guys pretty much lived up to their headlines. Some of the organ licks still remind me of ELP.


• "Winds of Change" - Eric Burdon & The Animals (c. 1967). Very dark, depressing. What do you expect from an album containing cuts like "Paint It Black," "The Black Plague" and "Motel Hell." Sprinkled with a modicum of San Francisco hippie peace-n-love blather. Burdon wrote the liner notes introducing the band members and a couple of other folks, and boy, are they a hoot! If you didn't live in the 60s, you won't understand, but Rod McKuen would be proud.


• "We're Only In It For The Money" - The Mothers of Invention (c. 1967). How weird was I as a kid? This was the third LP I bought after "Chicago" (by you-know-who) and "Disraeli Gears" (by the Cream). Frank Zappa obviously had Eric Burdon in mind when he concocted this bubbling platter of musical mayhem, even if the cover art is a takeoff on "Sgt Pepper." These guys were underappreciated musical genuises, and it's a shame that we don't get to see what Zappa could accomplish with a little of today's technological magic. But, perhaps he would snub it, even today. For, as the liner notes proudly proclaim, "None of the sounds are electronically generated...they are all the product of electronically altering NORMAL instruments." So, he took his electronics the old-fashioned way. [As an aside, I finally got to use the "Reverse" filter built into Sound Studio, as the last track on side one ends with a segment of backwards-playing music and lyrics. I can see why, after hearing it normally; the censors would never have let it through!] Overall, the album ranges from hysterically funny to scathingly sarcastic and from Manson creepy to adolescent gross. IOW, another classic.


• "Too Hot To Stop" - The Bar-Kays (c. 1976). Funkalicious!

Jasmine Update

In case you're wondering, Jasmine is still off on a Great Adventure. We hear from her occasionally via email, when she can find a connection, but her desire to blog from afar has not been realized. We expect her back in July, at which time we shall demand to know what she's been up to.

Not that that's ever worked in the past.

Relief

Late this afternoon I solved a tricky (for me) programming problem related to a client's website redesign. I had been putting it off for a couple of weeks, attending to every other detail I could think of, until I had nothing left to do but to attack it.

As I've written before, I'm not a programmer, and even the simplest of programming techniques often makes my eyes cross. But I am a problem solver, and if I can find where someone addressed a similar issue, I can usually deconstruct and reconstruct to make it fit my situation.

In this case, I had to resort to a <gasp> flowchart just to figure out how the chain of events needed to unfold. When's the last time you drew a flowchart for something other than an academic exercise? For me, I'd have to give the answer in terms of decades.

Of course, that was the easy part. Getting the code (PHP, in this case) to actually conform to the flowchart was the challenge. But things fell into place rather quickly -- almost easily, in fact -- and I think the client will be pleased when he sees the final product.

Just as important, I'm pleased. When you get to be my age, the ability to meet new challenges is not only important from a professional standpoint, but also from a personal perspective. It's a way of reaffirming that obsolescence has yet to take hold in my life. Perhaps it will someday; perhaps that's inevitable. But not today.

Spring? What Spring?

Does this look like spring to you?

At least we can enjoy the cold snap on Friday...

Elevated Alert Level?

The following is a public service announcement.

If you live in or around the city of Midland, or if you are contemplating traveling in close proximity thereto (say, within a 50 mile radius), you need to understand that as of approximately 1:00 p.m. local time today, the Niece and Nephew (aka "The Kidwinks") are proud and very dangerous possessors of that most feared of all WMDs: the State of Texas Driver's Instruction Permit.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

NetFlix: What's In Your Queue?

I don't have a CD changer in my "office." It's just as well, since I don't listen to music while I work. But it also means that I cannot participate in a favorite blogger activity, that of listing the contents in one's changer so as to give the world some insight as to one's musical tastes.

But, being a loyal subscriber to NetFlix, the invention second only to paper towels in terms of all-around utility, I can share with you the top 10 movies that are awaiting shipment for our viewing pleasure. Make of them what you will, but keep in mind that it is actually MLB who keeps our queue up-to-date:

1. Mystic River
2. Welcome to Mooseport
3. Hollywood Homicide*
4. The Cooler
5. Secondhand Lions
6. The Fighting Temptations
7. Paycheck
8. Love, Actually
9. Master and Commander
10. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre

The asterisks flag those movies which we saw at the theater during their first run.

I have no explanation for #10 on the list; in fact, you're learning about it at just about the same time I am. (Note: We have no children in the household, and Abbye has no tolerance for TV.)

I was pleased to see that "Bubba Ho Tep" is on the queue, albeit down at #19.

Local Bloggers Done Good

I occasionally give the anonymous bloggers over at Jessica's Well a hard time, but I also believe in giving credit where credit's due, and it's definitely due here. I've never seen a specific blog given credit by name on Fox News, but Jessica's Well has scored a mention and deservedly so.

Church Matters*

The passing of Ronald Reagan has brought about interesting discussions about the role Christianity played in shaping his political life. The consensus seems to be that Mr. Reagan was defined by his faith, perhaps not as overtly as our current President, but in no less impactful ways. This is proper and commendable, in my view; a faith that doesn't work in demonstrable ways in your life is, as James wrote, dead.

In the discussion about Reagan's faith, it has been noted that he wasn't generally known as a "church-goer." Dawn Eden over at The Dawn Patrol has written about this in typically eloquent and insightful fashion, and I'd like to expound further on her point. But first I'd like to excerpt a timely article from Friday's Wall Street Journal, one of those offering details about Reagan's spiritual life:

The reason for Mr. Reagan's discontinuation of his church attendance has paradoxical roots in the same reason church attendance is critical for a Christian: he loved the Church, just as Jesus Christ loved it. Why do I say that? Because he was willing to put aside his personal desires in order to serve, care for and accommodate his fellow believers.

The Church is the body of Christ, established by Him on earth for the express purpose of doing "Kingdom work." Every believer is granted automatic, irrevocable, full-privilege-and-standing membership upon acceptance of God's free gift of salvation through His Son. It's thus puzzling to me why so many Christians refuse to exercise the privileges (or accept the responsibilities) that come with that membership.

What else does Jesus love that we are so routinely and vehemently critical of?

How do I know that Jesus loved the Church (and I'm not just writing about "the Church" as a concept, but also about specific local churches and congregations...those with street addresses and websites and actual human pastors)? Well, for one thing, isn't it telling that some of His last recorded words of encouragement, instruction, admonishment and even warning were to seven specific churches in the part of the world referred to 2,000 years ago as Asia? Read chapters 2 and 3 in the book of Revelation and you'll see that Jesus was not only interested in the concept of the Church, but in the functioning of it. Seven times He says "He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches." I find it instructive that Jesus cared enough about churches to speak to seven of them in the same communication in which He gives us possibly the most important words ever written (and certainly the most hope-inspiring), "Yes, I am coming soon.

Associating with a local congregation is not just about finding a vehicle for praise and worship of God; after all, we can (and frequently should) do that by ourselves. It is about associating with our adopted brothers and sisters in order to be accountable, to receive instruction and encouragement, to pool resources and talents to do good work, and to learn to love one another more by learning to love God more.

That last phrase is worth repeating: learn to love others more by learning to love God more. I sometimes think many people avoid associating with a local church because they don't think they'll like the people who are already there. Here's a newsflash: you probably won't, at first. Churches are just chock-full of sinful, immoral impure people, people who will disappoint and anger...in other words, people just like you. And the most beautiful, inspiring, God-pleasing thing you can do is to learn to love 'em, bless their hearts and pointy little heads. And the only way I know to do that is to (1) let God love 'em through you while (2) getting to know who they really are...getting involved with their lives and letting them get involved with yours.

"How icky!" you might be thinking...and, of course, you're right. Life is icky, sometimes. Church life should mirror "real" life.

I've referred in the past to Anne Lamott's wonderful "Traveling Mercies - Some Thoughts on Faith", and the following passage illustrates my point. It's a tad long, but stick with it.

I believe that Ronald Reagan would understand perfectly. He understood that God made people for Himself, and for each other, and He made the Church for the same reasons. He never intended for Christianity to be a monologue; His heart is to hear the jangled, dischordant, joyfully-flawed choir of kindred spirits assembled in His Name. That, folks, is Church, and I'll never understand why any follower of Christ would not want to be a part of it.

*The title of this post, "Church Matters," is actually the name of a sermon series begun just this morning by our pastor. It's a wonderful title, and seemed to perfectly fit with this topic. Hearing it was affirmation of the timeliness of the ongoing discussions.

Chronicles of Riddickulous

OK, so we caught a matinee showing of Vin Diesel's newest flick, "The Chronicles of Riddick." What a sloppy mess!

Only an idiot would dwell on lapses in logic in a science-fiction/action movie, but sometimes they just overwhelm you. For example (mmmm...you might or might not consider some of the following to be spoilers, so continue at your own risk; however, it's not like there are any great surprises in this film anyway):

• The movie is set in some unknown (to me) future era and on a series of made-up planets, but we can safely assume that it's thousands of years from now in a galaxy far, far away.. The use of "Jesus" as an epithet in that setting is probably due to poor editing (not to mention taste), although I'd like to think that it's an unintentional acknowledgment of the Name before which every knee (regardless of galactic origin) shall eventually bow.


• It puzzles me why a civilization so advanced that it's moving throughout the universe, conquering and/or destroying planet after planet, would need to use mutant humanoids wearing scuba masks and tethered to handlers in order to locate fugitives via their body heat.


• Here's a handy survival tip for the next time you're caught on a planet where sunrise means an immediate temperature spike to 700°: make sure you step into a shadow. Simple, huh?


• This isn't necessarily a lapse in logic, but it was apparent that the special effects guys got a really good deal on some leftovers from Nightcrawler's repertoire in "X2."

"Chronicles" had flashes of humor and some well-choreographed action scenes. Unfortunately, Vin really deserves better material than this, and I was hoping for a better follow-up to "Pitch Black." The sub-plot of religious domination was just stupid and served only to sound a jarring chord on what should have been a mindless but enjoyable Popcorn Delivery Vehicle.

Friday Inanities

• I made three trips to the mailbox this afternoon before I realized that a "National Day of Mourning" meant no postal service. Duh.


• Speaking of trips to the mailbox, have you ever walked halfway down the block on the way to your box when you suddenly stop and wonder if you're wearing pants? No? Well, um, neither have I...but I was really wondering about you.


• Seeing the Clintons sitting on the front row with George and Laura at today's memorial brought this inevitable comparison and contrast to mind: As a President, Clinton made a fine actor. As an actor, Reagan made a fine President. I know which I prefer.


• I really should be doing real work instead of this.


• I experienced a rare situation during my bike ride this morning. The humidity exceeded the temperature. Blech. I guess it's God's way of reminding me that things could be worse; I could live in Houston.


• No offense, Kevin.


• Say, I just noticed that I blogged post #1,000 earlier this week. I don't know if that's a milestone, or simply an indication of a wasted life. Nevertheless, I'd like to publicly thank the millions of pixels who made it all possible. I couldn't have done it without you, guys.


• You know, this list-blog technique is great. It plays to my strength: the ability to say very little in as few words as possible.


• Crispin Glover's portrayal of Willard Stiles in "Willard" brings to the screen the creepiest loser since Anthony Perkins played Norman Bates in "Psycho." That's still not reason enough to rent it. "Willard," that is. And don't ask.


• I just realized that I've been unintentionally posting today with comments turned off (the new default). If you care to comment on the previous entries, I've turned the comments capability back on. Unless you're a comment spammer, in which case, shame on you.


• And, finally...blessedly so, I might add, coming soon: "What's In Your [NetFlix] Queue?" TTFN.

Vas es Dis?

Anybody else getting inundated by German-language spam? I've received 27 email messages in the last hour, each of which contain either a dense paragraph of German text, or one of several links to German websites. My curiosity is piqued, but not quite enough to follow the links.

Despite having a German immigrant for a grandfather, my command of the Mother Tongue is limited to counting to ten. So, I'm actually just guessing that these emails are in German. They could be in Klingon.

More Reagan Memorial Observations

• In one of today's posts, Kevin McCullogh writes about the reaction of some liberals to what they seem to believe is the excessive to-do about Reagan's passing. Kevin includes this quote: "Some are saying we as a nation aren't mourning at all."
  
  That caused me to consider my own reaction and feelings. I'm not sure how I should feel or act, to be honest. I don't know how to mourn someone I never knew, except as a celebrity or politician on TV or in the newspaper. I don't know how to grieve in this situation, nor am I sure that I should.
  
  What I am sure of is that I hurt for his wife Nancy, even as I feel a sense of relief that an immense burden has been lifted from her shoulders. I am also sure that Mr. Reagan is now enjoying his newly healed body and mind, and I pray that Nancy is comforted by that realization.


• President Bush's remarks were wonderful, and closed with the same sense of hope and comfort that I mentioned above.


• I must be getting soft in my old age, but I simply cannot listen to "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" without losing it. The last verse, especially, gets to me: "In the beauty of the lilies, Christ was born across the sea; with a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me. As He died to make men holy let us die to make men free, while God is marching on."
  
  In recent years, this lyric has been sanitized, made politically-correct. Even my beloved "The Baptist Hymnal" titles the song "Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory," moves the last verse into the penultimate position and changes a phrase in it to read "...let us live to make men free." This is a minor travesty, in my opinion, as it sugarcoats the message that sometimes -- often -- lives are saved only when they are lost. We learned that from Jesus Christ, even as we continue to learn it on battlefields around the world where the forces for good seek to vanquish those for evil. They sang the original version today; I think Reagan would approve.


• I can't help wondering what Pat Nixon thinks about all of this.


• I also can't help wondering what Gorbachev and the others in attendance who are atheists (I'm making an assumption about Gorbie, of course) think about the overtly religious -- and Christian, at that -- tone to the ceremony. Do they see this as simply a quaint and solemn-but-outdated ritual, with words that are derived from ancient and respected tradition but which are lacking in real meaning or impact? I'm sure they do, even as they continue to underestimate the power that we as a people and a nation derive from the beliefs behind those words. Their ignorance and unbelief is only temporary, but the repercussions are eternal.

Reagan Funeral Observation

I caught a brief bit of the "Farewell to President Regan" broadcast on Fox News, and I can't resist writing about something seemingly trivial, but which I found very compelling nonetheless.

The President and First Lady were the last guests to enter the National Cathedral, in keeping with their status. As they made their way down the long aisle, Laura walked along at her husband's right, eyes straight ahead, with a somber expression on her face. I couldn't discern any acknowledgement on her part of the many heads of state and other guests of political and social standing as she passed each row where they sat. Suddenly, however, without a pause in her stride she reached out her right hand and ever-so-gently patted the shoulder of a man sitting at the end of a row. She didn't even make eye contact...just a brush of the hand and the continuation of her way down the aisle.

The camera angle changed and the identity of the recipient of the shoulder pat was revealed: British Prime Minister Tony Blair.

That trivial gesture by the First Lady spoke volumes about things like friendship, loyalty, shared values and shared goals. Laura Bush is a class act, and I can't help thinking that Tony Blair must be also, to warrant that attention.

We're Baaaack!

Our webhost notified us that we're back online...although they can't say why, and that's not an answer that gives one a warm and fuzzy because it necessarily implies that there's no guarantee that the problem won't recur. We did exchange several emails containing terms like "cgi wrappers" and "memory leaks," which we all recognize as code for "beats me; let's whack it with a wrench and see what happens."

In any event, it's all sort of moot, as those pesky-but-lovable folks known as "clients" are demanding everything I have to give. As one inexplicably committed to this full-time-job-that-pays-like-a-part-time-hobby, I must answer the call, and thus the Gazette will continue to lie fallow for a while longer.

In the meantime, my nomination for the Overpriced Fashion Fad Revival of the Year ("OFFROTHY") goes to: the biomechanically designed flip-flop.

Unintended Consequences

Today's email newsletter from the Southern Baptist International Mission Board features an article by Erich Bridges describing some of the challenges -- and the victories -- of Christian evangelism in the Muslim world. This reference to the impact of "The Passion of the Christ" caught my eye (emphasis mine):

Paul in writing to the Christians in Rome quotes the prophet Isaiah: "How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!" Thank God even for those feet which carry the good news unwittingly or without good intentions; God's Word will not return void.

Pop is a Sound

Thanks to Kevin McCullough, I now have data to support my theory that the US is irredeemably polarized on the Great Questions of the Day, one of the most important of which is "what do you call a soft drink in your neck of the woods?"

Some yahoo is soliciting input via a website devoted to the issue, tabulating the results in a database, and providing a county level map showing the results.

It's exactly this sort of thing that God had in mind when He invented electricity and the HTTP protocol.

Oh...my answer? Well, I grew up calling them "cokes" (in the generic sense), but I've evolved in my understanding of the whole sweet fizzy water ethos, and now I refer to them as "soft drinks."

[BTW, this is a bonus post. MLB is stuck at the office (on her day off, no less!) trying to deal with a project deadline. I'm, as they say, all dressed up with no where to go. So -- what the hey! -- how 'bout blogging?]

Family Reunion

No blogging this weekend (this doesn't count), as we're off to attend the first family reunion of the summer. This one belongs to MLB. I've lost track of how many of 'em I've attended, but I was showing up for them before we were married (so it's not like I didn't know what I was getting into).

Each year, they seem to get a little smaller, as the older generation -- the ones who are the glue that keep the pages of the family book in place -- leaves for better parts. This year, it's my own mother-in-law who will be missing, and missed. The reunion will be bittersweet, if not downright painful, for that reason.

One might think that as the older folks shuffle off, the new kids would strengthen the ranks on the other end, but that's not how it works. Family reunions seem to belong to that other, older generation, and they just don't seem to get the priority from the younger folks that's needed to keep them going. The sad thing is, those younger folks will someday realize that they miss the reunions, and it will be too late.

Ah, but let's not dwell on that. See you Sunday (or, more likely, Monday).

TDF: One Month To Go!

The 2004 edition of the Tour de France begins July 3. Stay tuned to the Gazette for ill-informed, opinionated commentary based on whatever we have time to catch on OLN.

This year's race seems to be designed to prevent our guy, Lance, from winning #6. The terrain will cater to some of his rivals; rules changes in the team time trial will likewise be beneficial to some of the weaker teams. In addition, the makeup of Lance's USPS team has changed and some of his strongest supporting past cast will be making podium bids of their own, riding for other teams. In short, get ready to see Lance kick some serious rear!

And if, by chance, you prefer to read bloggers who actually know of what they speak, bookmark TDFBlog.com.

Comment Changes

I've instituted a couple of changes to the way comments are handled on the Gazette. Effective immediately, posts will default to "no comments permitted," although I and Jasmine will have the option for a given post to allow them. More than likely, we'll turn comments on for most posts, because we like to hear from you.

Second, I've deactivated the ability to use HTML in the comments. I apologize in advance for the inconvenience; this is purely a slap in the face to comment spammers. This denies them the ability to load their comments with active links and thus foils their goals of (1) improving their page rank in Google (not that I'm convinced they accomplish that anyway) and (2) making it really hard for anyone to actually visit their stupid websites via their comments.

This is the best compromise I can come up with between eliminating comments completely and allowing everything to come through and spending a significant part of my day cleaning up after the jerks and idiots. If you're reading this, btw, that does not include you. (Spammers don't actually read blogs.)

Thanks for understanding.

Random Observations™

• Gas prices closed at $6.68 today, and the temperature in Midland is heading for 104°. The white noise generated by the continuous operation of my a/c compressor just outside my window almost obscures the non-imaginary sound of dollar bills shuffling like playing cards out of my wallet and into TXU's coffers.


• Comment spam on this blog is approaching a volume that I'm unwilling to deal with any longer. Today it's in the form of (1) a putative female Russian who loves my blog, especially to pitch her steroids, and (2) some yahoo (a fitting description considering the email address is from yahoo.com) offering debt consolidation services. Much as it pains me to do so, turning off the comment feature is rapidly becoming a not-unthinkable option. Just so you know.


• My nomination for the foulest movie ever made (not that I've seen that many, mind you) is "Cabin Fever" (I refuse to link to it). MLB and I made it almost 20 minutes into the DVD before ejecting it in disgust and returning it to NetFlix. We had to cleanse our psychic palates with a viewing of "Freaky Friday" (the remake).


• Yesterday's ribeyes were scrumptious; just ask Abbye. She loves it when we fire up the grill. Wonder how she knows? ;-)


• The cheesiest made-for-TV movies come from the Sci-Fi Channel. Exhibit A: "Sabertooth." The big cat in question (resurrected via evil cloning, of course) is apparently hand-drawn directly onto the film. It's so bad...well, we can't resist watching it every time it's on! Next up: "Anonymous Rex."


• I digitized four more albums over the weekend, including a compilation LP that contains a cut by an uncredited Janis Joplin appearing with Big Brother and the Holding Company, and another by Grace Slick when she fronted The Great Society. Gee, those 60s bands really knew how to stick to The Man, didn't they? Anyway, more about that later...