from The Feast. I finished this once before and my browser ate it. Still a few glitches in Firefox, I'm afraid.
Appetizer--Name 3 people whom you admire for their intelligence.
Michael. Dr. Burgchardt. Gene.
Soup--What's the last food you tried that you really didn't care for.
I rarely encounter foods for which I don't care. There are two major reasons: 1) I'm very aware of my likes and dislikes and expose myself to the foods I dislike; and 2) there are very few foods I dislike. Fried okra (can you say "fried phlegm) and my grandmother's lemon jello/corned-beef hash (hideous) come to mind.
Salad--If you could rename the street that you live on, what would you want it to be called?
How about Elm Street? The first Nightmare on Elm Street was a ton of fun. If I lived on Elm Street I'd consider changing my name to Freddy Krueger.
Main Course--When was the last time you were genuinely surprised?
A family friend, a minister from my teen years, attended a gathering. I hadn't seen him in close to a decade.
Dessert--Share a household tip.
Using newspapers to clean windows and mirrors reduces streaking.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Internet Awash with Porn ::gasp::
There's been quite a bit of hubbub about internet porn the last few days. In fact, the Senate decided it's time to step in and save our children from the evil of porn. Maybe I'm the exception, but I really don't have many problems "stumbling" across porn on the internet. If I go looking for it, I can find it without any problem. Encountering it, however, is rarely accidental.
This internet porn thing seems like yet another instance where parental responsibility is being overlooked. Isn't it a parent's job to monitor their children? If they can't watch them all the time, which they clearly can't, shouldn't they be talking to their kids about appropriate behavior, about what's right or wrong for their particular family? Truth be told, I can't imagine a bit of porn will severely scar a teenager for life. In fact, I bet most teenage boys have stumbled across a father's, or maybe older brother's, hidden stash of porn magazines. Where's the government!? The government should be regulating paper porn in the home! Sheesh.
Get a clue, people. Insulating your childern from what you consider the unsavory parts of life isn't the solution. Sit down with your kids and talk to them about expectations. If you don't want your kids looking at porn, talk to them about it. Talk to them about why you don't want them looking at sexually explicit material. Of course, my position assumes that a parent is mature enough to actually discuss issues of human sexuality with his or her child. If your child violates your "ban" on porn in the home, ground them from the computer for a week. Increase the grounding on subsequent infractions. That's called a natural consequence: if you can't use the internet responsibly, you lose internet privileges. If you find out a child has been viewing porn at a friend's house, your child gets grounded from visiting for a while. I'd also probably call the other parent(s) and let them know what the kids have been doing. I'd avoid a confrontation with the parent and keep the conversation strictly informative.
Let's quit asking the government to pick up the slack for poor parenting.
This internet porn thing seems like yet another instance where parental responsibility is being overlooked. Isn't it a parent's job to monitor their children? If they can't watch them all the time, which they clearly can't, shouldn't they be talking to their kids about appropriate behavior, about what's right or wrong for their particular family? Truth be told, I can't imagine a bit of porn will severely scar a teenager for life. In fact, I bet most teenage boys have stumbled across a father's, or maybe older brother's, hidden stash of porn magazines. Where's the government!? The government should be regulating paper porn in the home! Sheesh.
Get a clue, people. Insulating your childern from what you consider the unsavory parts of life isn't the solution. Sit down with your kids and talk to them about expectations. If you don't want your kids looking at porn, talk to them about it. Talk to them about why you don't want them looking at sexually explicit material. Of course, my position assumes that a parent is mature enough to actually discuss issues of human sexuality with his or her child. If your child violates your "ban" on porn in the home, ground them from the computer for a week. Increase the grounding on subsequent infractions. That's called a natural consequence: if you can't use the internet responsibly, you lose internet privileges. If you find out a child has been viewing porn at a friend's house, your child gets grounded from visiting for a while. I'd also probably call the other parent(s) and let them know what the kids have been doing. I'd avoid a confrontation with the parent and keep the conversation strictly informative.
Let's quit asking the government to pick up the slack for poor parenting.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Deep Breathing. Ow. Mmmmm.
One of the drawbacks of accepting a position at Small Midwest College, or any small liberal arts college for that matter, is the lack of a R1 library. If the grant money isn't pouring in, the library usually faces some limitations. I'm not sure why this became such a concern this weekend, like I don't already have enough courses on my worry plate, but it did. So, I spent a few hours poking around the library via the proxy server. Lo and behold, I can access most of the academic journals relevant to my discipline. The library doesn't have a paper copy of several of my favorites, but they do have electronic access. That means I can keep up on current research without any major travel time or photocopy costs. Some of my favorite academic journals include:
Communication and Critical/Cultural Studies.
Journal of Popular Culture.
Philosophy and Rhetoric.
Popular Communication.
Quarterly Journal of Speech.
Rhetoric Society Quarterly.
Text of Performance Quarterly.
I think the only journal I can't access is the Western Journal of Commucation. If I really start to miss that journal, I'll renew my Western States Communication Association membership. That's one concern eliminated.
We're still making progress toward the big move. I spent several hours packing the office and reorganizing the storage unit--I'm boxing and moving every non-essential item. By the time we get the truck on August 4th, most of possession will have been boxed, carried down from our third floor condo, hauled to the storage unit, and stacked. If all goes as planned, we'll be able to back the truck up to the storage unit and quickly walk boxes up the loading ramp. We'll then proceed to the condo and pick up the furniture. I'm guessing the furniture part of the move will take no more than two or three hours. Moving virtually everything in our condo on my own is taking a toll on my back. Thanks to some back exercises I incorporated into my workout about 1.5 years ago, I've had far fewer back problems than I have in the past. Still, I managed to tweak my back this afternoon. Imagine being stabbed just to the right of your spinal column every time you take a breath. Thank the maker for ibuprofen and bags of frozen peas--those wonderful little veggies make one hell of a form fitting ice pack. I have another two or three hours of work tomorrow; here's to a speedy recovery.
As an aside, someone is smoking outside and the wonderful scent is drifting in through the office window. ::inhales deeply:: I miss smoking every. single. day. I'm pretty sure I haven't had the last cigarette of my life. There may come a day when it's necessary to pick up the habit once again. Then again, maybe not. I like to keep my options open in that regard. Today, at least, I choose not to smoke. Things might be different tomorrow.
Communication and Critical/Cultural Studies.
Journal of Popular Culture.
Philosophy and Rhetoric.
Popular Communication.
Quarterly Journal of Speech.
Rhetoric Society Quarterly.
Text of Performance Quarterly.
I think the only journal I can't access is the Western Journal of Commucation. If I really start to miss that journal, I'll renew my Western States Communication Association membership. That's one concern eliminated.
We're still making progress toward the big move. I spent several hours packing the office and reorganizing the storage unit--I'm boxing and moving every non-essential item. By the time we get the truck on August 4th, most of possession will have been boxed, carried down from our third floor condo, hauled to the storage unit, and stacked. If all goes as planned, we'll be able to back the truck up to the storage unit and quickly walk boxes up the loading ramp. We'll then proceed to the condo and pick up the furniture. I'm guessing the furniture part of the move will take no more than two or three hours. Moving virtually everything in our condo on my own is taking a toll on my back. Thanks to some back exercises I incorporated into my workout about 1.5 years ago, I've had far fewer back problems than I have in the past. Still, I managed to tweak my back this afternoon. Imagine being stabbed just to the right of your spinal column every time you take a breath. Thank the maker for ibuprofen and bags of frozen peas--those wonderful little veggies make one hell of a form fitting ice pack. I have another two or three hours of work tomorrow; here's to a speedy recovery.
As an aside, someone is smoking outside and the wonderful scent is drifting in through the office window. ::inhales deeply:: I miss smoking every. single. day. I'm pretty sure I haven't had the last cigarette of my life. There may come a day when it's necessary to pick up the habit once again. Then again, maybe not. I like to keep my options open in that regard. Today, at least, I choose not to smoke. Things might be different tomorrow.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
What The?
I began the oh so lovely task of packing over the weekend. Armed with my packing tape, reinforced boxes courtesy of United Airlines shipping (it pays to have connections), and my quick wit, I started boxing my wardrobe. I like to think I have a reasonable wardrobe. After filling a huge box with t-shirts, I may have to rethink my thinking. Would you classify 30+ black t-shirts as unreasonable? Mind you, my collection of black t-shirts are classified into distinct categories. I have several black t-shirts for snappy casual occasions; these are unfaded GAP t-shirts that look great with a pair of slacks and a sports coat. I have a handful of long-sleeved t-shirts that I wear a half dozen times during the winter months. The long-sleeved shirts are followed by blank, everyday t-shirts. Obviously faded, these shirts look great with torn jeans and shorts alike. A half dozen or so comic book t-shirts grace the confines of my closet (yes, I hang all my t-shirts. Who doesn't? Gotta love that wrinkle free look). I also own a dozen plus band t-shirts. As one might imagine, my white t-shirts follow a similar organization pattern. The entire t-shirt packing process took about an hour. An hour or two of packing a day should have us ready for the August 6 move.
The condo cluttered with boxes, it would figure that we'd receive several calls about showing the place. We received not one, not two, but THREE showing requests yesterday. We're pretty good about keeping the place in showing condition--a half hour of wiping/dusting/vacuuming and the condo is ready to go. That's with two of us at home. Yesterday, STK went to lunch with her grandparents and I stayed at home with TLO. The real estate office called: a realtor would be at the door in 45 minutes. I launched into action, as did TLO and the dogs. Absolute chaos ensued. I flew around the condo while TLO screamed like a banshee, the dogs hounding me every bit of the way. Profanities flew from my person in steady stream. I'm sure I appeared every bit the madman. I managed to pull the place together, secure TLO in his car seat, and herd the dogs out the door with five minutes to spare. And the realtor missed his fucking appointment. Bastard. The realtor did eventually show the place, TWO AND HALF HOURS LATE! Without any serious showings in several weeks, I suppose I can deal with late realtors if that's what it takes to sell the place.
The condo cluttered with boxes, it would figure that we'd receive several calls about showing the place. We received not one, not two, but THREE showing requests yesterday. We're pretty good about keeping the place in showing condition--a half hour of wiping/dusting/vacuuming and the condo is ready to go. That's with two of us at home. Yesterday, STK went to lunch with her grandparents and I stayed at home with TLO. The real estate office called: a realtor would be at the door in 45 minutes. I launched into action, as did TLO and the dogs. Absolute chaos ensued. I flew around the condo while TLO screamed like a banshee, the dogs hounding me every bit of the way. Profanities flew from my person in steady stream. I'm sure I appeared every bit the madman. I managed to pull the place together, secure TLO in his car seat, and herd the dogs out the door with five minutes to spare. And the realtor missed his fucking appointment. Bastard. The realtor did eventually show the place, TWO AND HALF HOURS LATE! Without any serious showings in several weeks, I suppose I can deal with late realtors if that's what it takes to sell the place.
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Tasty Feast
Feast Fifty-Five
Appetizer--What is your middle name? Would you change any of your names if you could? If so, what would you like to be called?
Randall. I'm relatively content with all my names.
Soup--If you were a fashion designer, which fabrics, colors, and styles would you probably use the most?
I'm a big fan of cotton; synthetics, not so much. I'd probably go with a lot of black, white, and greens (forest, kelly, and olive--no pastels or florescents, thanks). The general style would likely be post punk/pseudo-military or something.
Salad--What is your least favorite chore, and why?
Emptying the cat litter. Cats are filthy creatures.
Main Course--What is something that really frightens you, and can you trace it back to an event in your life?
Sharks. Damn my parents for letting me watch Jaws as a child.
Dessert--Where are you sitting right now? Name 3 things you can see at this moment.
Home office. 1) Autographed flyer for the Start's Death Via Satellite EP. 2) Framed Green Lantern poster (two, actually). 3) Brand new copy of Star Wars Clone Wars Adventures Vol. III.
Appetizer--What is your middle name? Would you change any of your names if you could? If so, what would you like to be called?
Randall. I'm relatively content with all my names.
Soup--If you were a fashion designer, which fabrics, colors, and styles would you probably use the most?
I'm a big fan of cotton; synthetics, not so much. I'd probably go with a lot of black, white, and greens (forest, kelly, and olive--no pastels or florescents, thanks). The general style would likely be post punk/pseudo-military or something.
Salad--What is your least favorite chore, and why?
Emptying the cat litter. Cats are filthy creatures.
Main Course--What is something that really frightens you, and can you trace it back to an event in your life?
Sharks. Damn my parents for letting me watch Jaws as a child.
Dessert--Where are you sitting right now? Name 3 things you can see at this moment.
Home office. 1) Autographed flyer for the Start's Death Via Satellite EP. 2) Framed Green Lantern poster (two, actually). 3) Brand new copy of Star Wars Clone Wars Adventures Vol. III.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Smile
Better than a gift given with a joyous heart
Are sweet words spoken with a cheerful smile.
-Tirukkural 92
Excerpted from the Tirukkural, translated by Satguru Sivaya Subramuniyaswami. Copyright Himalayan Academy Publications, www.himalayanacademy.com.
Are sweet words spoken with a cheerful smile.
-Tirukkural 92
Excerpted from the Tirukkural, translated by Satguru Sivaya Subramuniyaswami. Copyright Himalayan Academy Publications, www.himalayanacademy.com.
No Worse for Wear
Yesterday, during a long run in 90 degree heat, I realized my life is pretty darn good. Despite the signficant life shake-up that occured with The Little One's arrival, nobody seems worse for wear. Oh, STK and I definitely get less sleep than we used to but, overall, we've adjusted. When TLO does keep us up, like last night, it's difficult to stay frustrated or angry. He's just so damn cute.
The move is looming on the horizon but I think we have everything under control. The truck and tow dolly are reserved, we have a pet-friendly place to crash after the first leg of the journey, and arrangements have been made to pick up the keys to our new place on arrival. The only possible snag is the sale of our condo, or non-sale as the case may be. It's looking more and more like the place won't sell before we hit the road. And that's not really so much of a snag as on inconvenience. If the place doesn't sell within the next six weeks we'll implement our contingency plan, look for a new realtor, and go from there. We're fortunate in that we do have the financial wherewithall to make mortgage and lease payments for an extended period. We'd rather we not do that, of course, but we won't be in financial straights. During one of our head-in-the-clouds moments yesterday, STK and I talked about keeping the place as our Colorado second home. How cool would that be? We'd be able to take prolonged vacations during the winter and summer breaks and be within minutes of all our friends and family. Dream on, brother.
I'm off to meet S and pick up a portable dishwasher. S is also moving and had a portable dishwasher with which she needed to part. A shadowy rendezvous was made, battered manila envelopes exchanged, and viola! STK and I have a dishwasher for the new midwest abode. The new place is an older home and doesn't have a built-in dishwasher; STK and I both find that unacceptable. Okay, I probably find it more unacceptable than STK--she's much more "we'll deal with whatever" than I. I, on the other hand, am used to my luxury items: indoor plumbing, dishwasher, washer and dryer, coffee grinder. You get the idea. With that acquisition out of the way, we'll turn our attention to packing for the move. Yippee!
The move is looming on the horizon but I think we have everything under control. The truck and tow dolly are reserved, we have a pet-friendly place to crash after the first leg of the journey, and arrangements have been made to pick up the keys to our new place on arrival. The only possible snag is the sale of our condo, or non-sale as the case may be. It's looking more and more like the place won't sell before we hit the road. And that's not really so much of a snag as on inconvenience. If the place doesn't sell within the next six weeks we'll implement our contingency plan, look for a new realtor, and go from there. We're fortunate in that we do have the financial wherewithall to make mortgage and lease payments for an extended period. We'd rather we not do that, of course, but we won't be in financial straights. During one of our head-in-the-clouds moments yesterday, STK and I talked about keeping the place as our Colorado second home. How cool would that be? We'd be able to take prolonged vacations during the winter and summer breaks and be within minutes of all our friends and family. Dream on, brother.
I'm off to meet S and pick up a portable dishwasher. S is also moving and had a portable dishwasher with which she needed to part. A shadowy rendezvous was made, battered manila envelopes exchanged, and viola! STK and I have a dishwasher for the new midwest abode. The new place is an older home and doesn't have a built-in dishwasher; STK and I both find that unacceptable. Okay, I probably find it more unacceptable than STK--she's much more "we'll deal with whatever" than I. I, on the other hand, am used to my luxury items: indoor plumbing, dishwasher, washer and dryer, coffee grinder. You get the idea. With that acquisition out of the way, we'll turn our attention to packing for the move. Yippee!
Sunday, July 10, 2005
Overheard at Barnes & Noble
STK: I didn't get his diaper tight enough and he peed right on me!
K: Some people pay good money for that.
D: We think it might be his first fetish.
A: We don't want to know if this is genetic.
D: We'll keep that to ourselves.
K: Some people pay good money for that.
D: We think it might be his first fetish.
A: We don't want to know if this is genetic.
D: We'll keep that to ourselves.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Perplexed
Like the majority of those on planet Earth, I'm saddened by the acts of violence committed against the people of London earlier today. Nobody should have to face that kind of violence. Ever. Despite the atrocities committed today, there are those who would respond with additional atrocities. I found the following message board post this morning. A poster named Nancy wrote:
Perhaps it IS time to stop being politically correct, & just start shutting down mosques & deporting muslims back to the middle east they all come from. BTW, I haven't heard a peep from any muslim news source concerning any muslim authorities or organizations whatsoever condemning this latest outrage. Therefore I infer they approve. More reasons to turn them into sheets of nuclear molten glass.
Genocide is a great answer, Nancy. Keep up the stellar thinking, eh? When another poster suggested Nancy was unfairly categorizing all Muslims as terrorists, she responded:
how? How do you determine which muslim is a decent person & which is a terrorist?
Well, why not assume that the VAST majority are not. Out of roughly 1 billion Muslims, how many are involved in legitimate terrorist activities? 10,000? I'm not a terrorist expert or anything, but even that number seems a little high. If that number is roughly correct, that means that only .00001 percent of all Muslims have any connection to terrorism. All numbers aside, why don't we hear the same exhortations after an abortion clinic bombing by a radical Christian pro-lifer? Can you imagine someone asking, "How do we determine which Christian is a decent person and which is a terrorist?" And she finished her observations with this:
I have been checking out the various news sources, and I have so far come up with NOT ONE expression of outrage, condolences, sorrow, revulsion, or anything other than support for the actions of these muslim scum. Not one imam, ayatollah, or islamic university teacher, not one muslim authority. Nothing, nada, zip. Faced with resounding silence on the part of muslims worldwide at this behavior, I must therefore conclude they all approve & support it. And they wonder why they are being increasingly viewed as less than human, and their religion with fear & contempt?
This kind of thinking terrifies me more than a handful of ideological zealots using bombs as their primary means of advancing political change. Why should all members of a faith be expected to denounce, and even apologize for, the actions of a fringe element? Again, do we hold all Christians responible for the actions of Eric Rudolph or David Koresh? I'm absolutely perplexed by this kind of behavior. The only sense I can make of it, and maybe I'm barking up the wrong tree by trying to make any sense of it at all, is the old "people fear what they don't understand" argument. That explanation isn't very satisfying today. The belief that "All Muslims are terrorists" will only lead to additional pain and suffering, to more innocents being targeted.
Anyone want to make a prediction regarding the first reported incident against a mosque or an innocent group of Muslims? And so the cylce of senseless violence continues.
Perhaps it IS time to stop being politically correct, & just start shutting down mosques & deporting muslims back to the middle east they all come from. BTW, I haven't heard a peep from any muslim news source concerning any muslim authorities or organizations whatsoever condemning this latest outrage. Therefore I infer they approve. More reasons to turn them into sheets of nuclear molten glass.
Genocide is a great answer, Nancy. Keep up the stellar thinking, eh? When another poster suggested Nancy was unfairly categorizing all Muslims as terrorists, she responded:
how? How do you determine which muslim is a decent person & which is a terrorist?
Well, why not assume that the VAST majority are not. Out of roughly 1 billion Muslims, how many are involved in legitimate terrorist activities? 10,000? I'm not a terrorist expert or anything, but even that number seems a little high. If that number is roughly correct, that means that only .00001 percent of all Muslims have any connection to terrorism. All numbers aside, why don't we hear the same exhortations after an abortion clinic bombing by a radical Christian pro-lifer? Can you imagine someone asking, "How do we determine which Christian is a decent person and which is a terrorist?" And she finished her observations with this:
I have been checking out the various news sources, and I have so far come up with NOT ONE expression of outrage, condolences, sorrow, revulsion, or anything other than support for the actions of these muslim scum. Not one imam, ayatollah, or islamic university teacher, not one muslim authority. Nothing, nada, zip. Faced with resounding silence on the part of muslims worldwide at this behavior, I must therefore conclude they all approve & support it. And they wonder why they are being increasingly viewed as less than human, and their religion with fear & contempt?
This kind of thinking terrifies me more than a handful of ideological zealots using bombs as their primary means of advancing political change. Why should all members of a faith be expected to denounce, and even apologize for, the actions of a fringe element? Again, do we hold all Christians responible for the actions of Eric Rudolph or David Koresh? I'm absolutely perplexed by this kind of behavior. The only sense I can make of it, and maybe I'm barking up the wrong tree by trying to make any sense of it at all, is the old "people fear what they don't understand" argument. That explanation isn't very satisfying today. The belief that "All Muslims are terrorists" will only lead to additional pain and suffering, to more innocents being targeted.
Anyone want to make a prediction regarding the first reported incident against a mosque or an innocent group of Muslims? And so the cylce of senseless violence continues.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Newcomers
I've added a couple new journals/blogs to the roll here at Rhetorical Imprints.
The Girl Zone is authored by elusis, a dear friend from the local goth scene. She's a damn fine deejay, an excellent scholar, and a wannabee pirate. Actually, she really thinks she is a pirate. I'm not sure how her clients react to all the "arghs", rum, and prominently displayed jolly rogers.
ishaunted offers her ruminations on dog vomit, beef, and other daily pursuits at i live here. k is one of the first people I met in the local goth scene some seven years ago. She and one of her friends nicknamed me "Silver Belt Boy" due to my most excellent collection of alternative silver studded belts. Over the years, k and I have consumed countless cups o' java and packs of cigarettes while dreaming of travelling back in time to join the Bromley Contingent. The fact that she owns her own Starfleet uniform--I've seen it--should tell you everything you need to know.
Welcome to my neck of the blogosphere, friends!
The Girl Zone is authored by elusis, a dear friend from the local goth scene. She's a damn fine deejay, an excellent scholar, and a wannabee pirate. Actually, she really thinks she is a pirate. I'm not sure how her clients react to all the "arghs", rum, and prominently displayed jolly rogers.
ishaunted offers her ruminations on dog vomit, beef, and other daily pursuits at i live here. k is one of the first people I met in the local goth scene some seven years ago. She and one of her friends nicknamed me "Silver Belt Boy" due to my most excellent collection of alternative silver studded belts. Over the years, k and I have consumed countless cups o' java and packs of cigarettes while dreaming of travelling back in time to join the Bromley Contingent. The fact that she owns her own Starfleet uniform--I've seen it--should tell you everything you need to know.
Welcome to my neck of the blogosphere, friends!
Just Another Day
As a child, the Fourth of July was one of those exciting holidays. The family would typically make the trip over the river and through the woods to grandma's place for a few days. We'd swim (grandma had, and still has, a pool), barbeque (complete with gram's divine potato salad), and then head off to the Central City fairgrounds for the fireworks display. My sister and I screamed for Dad to honk the horn when a particularly exciting starburst lit the sky.
My teens and early twenties saw a different focus emerge on the 4th of July: beer! Gone were the idyllic days of barbeques, fireworks, and lightning bugs; the 4th of July became yet another excuse to get stupidly drunk. This wasn't a day for a slight buzz, but a swill fest of falling-down-slurred- speech-profanity-laced-tirades-pissing-on-myself drunkenness. Good times, good times.
Today, I see the 4th of July for what it is: Amateur Day/Night, Version 2. Other than New Year's Eve, you'll never find a better day to observe the idiocy that comes from occasional drinkers trying to act like lushes. Leave the serious drinking to the professionals, folks. While all the wannabe alcoholics make me chuckle, the presence of so much booze also makes me a little uncomfortable. As such, I usually go out of my way to avoid any kind of public activity on the 4th; as one of my old AA friends used to say, "Your best course of action is to treat the 4th of July as just another day." For those of us in the recovery gig, that's good advice.
In celebration of Just-Another-Day-That-Happens-to-fall-on-the-4th-of-July, STK, TLO, and I had a pretty subdued day. The highlight of the day was taking TLO out for his first ride in the stroller. We needed to pick up some photo paper at the local CompUSA, a store within a stone's throw of our condo, and thought the trip would make the perfect 1st outing. We made the trip, returned home for a light dinner, and completed the night with several episodes from the 1st season of Alias. I'm not sure how we missed the show during it's original run, but we did. We really like it. Of course, STK and I both have a thing for shows featuring a kickass female lead.
My teens and early twenties saw a different focus emerge on the 4th of July: beer! Gone were the idyllic days of barbeques, fireworks, and lightning bugs; the 4th of July became yet another excuse to get stupidly drunk. This wasn't a day for a slight buzz, but a swill fest of falling-down-slurred- speech-profanity-laced-tirades-pissing-on-myself drunkenness. Good times, good times.
Today, I see the 4th of July for what it is: Amateur Day/Night, Version 2. Other than New Year's Eve, you'll never find a better day to observe the idiocy that comes from occasional drinkers trying to act like lushes. Leave the serious drinking to the professionals, folks. While all the wannabe alcoholics make me chuckle, the presence of so much booze also makes me a little uncomfortable. As such, I usually go out of my way to avoid any kind of public activity on the 4th; as one of my old AA friends used to say, "Your best course of action is to treat the 4th of July as just another day." For those of us in the recovery gig, that's good advice.
In celebration of Just-Another-Day-That-Happens-to-fall-on-the-4th-of-July, STK, TLO, and I had a pretty subdued day. The highlight of the day was taking TLO out for his first ride in the stroller. We needed to pick up some photo paper at the local CompUSA, a store within a stone's throw of our condo, and thought the trip would make the perfect 1st outing. We made the trip, returned home for a light dinner, and completed the night with several episodes from the 1st season of Alias. I'm not sure how we missed the show during it's original run, but we did. We really like it. Of course, STK and I both have a thing for shows featuring a kickass female lead.
Saturday, July 02, 2005
A Feast By Any Other Name . . .
Friday's Feast, July 1, 2005
Appetizer--Where do you plan to go on vacation this year, or where would you want to go?
I'm not sure this counts as a vacation, but I'm going to an academic conference in Boston, MA later this year. I'll probably spend a grand total of two hours at the conference, then spend the rest of the time visiting Samuel Adams' grave, Walden pond, etc. If I was to go on vacation, I'd probably head for San Francisco, CA.
Soup--What color is your bedroom? If you could redecorate it, what would you change?
Beige. If I had my druthers, I'd go with a sage green.
Salad--Do you have a bumper sticker on your vehicle? What does it say?
I have several bumper stickers:
Freedom of religion means every religion.
You laugh at my because I'm different; I laugh at you because you're all the same.
theStart
One Man Army
Sleater-Kinney
No Doubt
Metric
The Ramones
Main Course--What's the worst pain you've ever been in?
The first couple weeks of getting sober absolutely sucked. The physical and mental pain were unbelievable. One of the reasons I stay sober is that I never want to go through the first few weeks of sobriety ever again.
Dessert--Who is your favorite celebrity? What do they do that inspires you?
Gwen Stefani is probably my favorite celebrity, despite the crap she calls her present pop album. Holla Back Girl? WTF is that? I'm not sure she inspires me so much as I really enjoy her artistic endeavours with No Doubt.
Appetizer--Where do you plan to go on vacation this year, or where would you want to go?
I'm not sure this counts as a vacation, but I'm going to an academic conference in Boston, MA later this year. I'll probably spend a grand total of two hours at the conference, then spend the rest of the time visiting Samuel Adams' grave, Walden pond, etc. If I was to go on vacation, I'd probably head for San Francisco, CA.
Soup--What color is your bedroom? If you could redecorate it, what would you change?
Beige. If I had my druthers, I'd go with a sage green.
Salad--Do you have a bumper sticker on your vehicle? What does it say?
I have several bumper stickers:
Freedom of religion means every religion.
You laugh at my because I'm different; I laugh at you because you're all the same.
theStart
One Man Army
Sleater-Kinney
No Doubt
Metric
The Ramones
Main Course--What's the worst pain you've ever been in?
The first couple weeks of getting sober absolutely sucked. The physical and mental pain were unbelievable. One of the reasons I stay sober is that I never want to go through the first few weeks of sobriety ever again.
Dessert--Who is your favorite celebrity? What do they do that inspires you?
Gwen Stefani is probably my favorite celebrity, despite the crap she calls her present pop album. Holla Back Girl? WTF is that? I'm not sure she inspires me so much as I really enjoy her artistic endeavours with No Doubt.
Practice
Friday has been one of those days when I had no sense of balance whatsoever. Since getting sober over twelve years ago, there's been one nagging character defect I seem unable to address: staying in the moment. Readers will recognize mindfulness, the practice of keeping the mind focused on the present moment, as a common theme in my writing. I read about mindfulness, I write about mindfulness, but I struggle with instituting the practice in my day to day life. Rather than keeping myself focused on the present moment, I go through life with my mind firmly entrenched in the future, fretting about things that might come to pass. Despite being keenly aware of my tendency to fixate on future events and project negative outcomes, 90 precent of which never come to pass, I don't implement the practices that I know will keep me in the present moment.
Gene and I used to talk about this quirk in human behavorior on a regular basis. If I remember our conversations correctly, we decided that most people have a fairly thorough understanding of their shortcomings, character defects, and problematic behaviors. Most people also understand the action, or actions, they need to take in order to make life adjustments. Where the whole process of change breaks down is in implementation: most people don't follow through on the "fix." We have a decent diagnosis, we understand the cure, but we suck at administering the cure.
Today, for example, I let myself get stressed about potential complications and difficulties with the upcoming move. We're a little over a month away from M-Day, Moving Day, and several stars haven't aligned exactly as I'd like. The condo still hasn't sold and isn't gathering much in the way of attention, my final paycheck from the University was about half of what I expected,* and there are still a couple kinks in the actual moving process. Minutes after checking my bank account, I decided that the entire move was a disaster in the making and announced to STK that I'd made a horrible mistake in accepting the tenure-track position. I swear I had one of those little storm clouds--rain, thunder, lightning, and all--following me around for a couple hours. STK let me know, in no uncertain terms, that I'm not very pleasant company when I'm manufacturing our demise.
Several hours later, I managed to refocus my attention on the present moment. An extra difficult workout usually does that for me. By pushing myself physically, I'm literally unable to focus beyond my next breath, my next stride. My mind stops and I'm unable to think of anything other than present actions. Having achieved mental clarity, I see my thinking for what is: illusory. All of today's stresses were manufactured within my own mind. In fact, we've had contingency plans in place for all my imagined complications for several months. We thought all these things through months ago, but my twisted mind can't leave well enough alone.
And so I revisit my toolbox of "fixes" once again. I remind myself of the practices that keep my mind out of the future and in the present: meditating, breathing, walking, pausing when agitated, acknowledging worries and letting them go. If I keep returning to these practices and keep trying to incorporate them them into my everyday life, I know I'll eventually teach myself to stay in the now, to embrace of the present moment. Most of the time.
*An error on my part, I'm afraid. I misread my May 31 paycheck and thought I was getting the majority of my summer pay on my final paycheck. Rereading the May check stub, I already received half my summer pay. As a result of my error, we have about a grand less than we'd budgeted this month. Ooops.
Gene and I used to talk about this quirk in human behavorior on a regular basis. If I remember our conversations correctly, we decided that most people have a fairly thorough understanding of their shortcomings, character defects, and problematic behaviors. Most people also understand the action, or actions, they need to take in order to make life adjustments. Where the whole process of change breaks down is in implementation: most people don't follow through on the "fix." We have a decent diagnosis, we understand the cure, but we suck at administering the cure.
Today, for example, I let myself get stressed about potential complications and difficulties with the upcoming move. We're a little over a month away from M-Day, Moving Day, and several stars haven't aligned exactly as I'd like. The condo still hasn't sold and isn't gathering much in the way of attention, my final paycheck from the University was about half of what I expected,* and there are still a couple kinks in the actual moving process. Minutes after checking my bank account, I decided that the entire move was a disaster in the making and announced to STK that I'd made a horrible mistake in accepting the tenure-track position. I swear I had one of those little storm clouds--rain, thunder, lightning, and all--following me around for a couple hours. STK let me know, in no uncertain terms, that I'm not very pleasant company when I'm manufacturing our demise.
Several hours later, I managed to refocus my attention on the present moment. An extra difficult workout usually does that for me. By pushing myself physically, I'm literally unable to focus beyond my next breath, my next stride. My mind stops and I'm unable to think of anything other than present actions. Having achieved mental clarity, I see my thinking for what is: illusory. All of today's stresses were manufactured within my own mind. In fact, we've had contingency plans in place for all my imagined complications for several months. We thought all these things through months ago, but my twisted mind can't leave well enough alone.
And so I revisit my toolbox of "fixes" once again. I remind myself of the practices that keep my mind out of the future and in the present: meditating, breathing, walking, pausing when agitated, acknowledging worries and letting them go. If I keep returning to these practices and keep trying to incorporate them them into my everyday life, I know I'll eventually teach myself to stay in the now, to embrace of the present moment. Most of the time.
*An error on my part, I'm afraid. I misread my May 31 paycheck and thought I was getting the majority of my summer pay on my final paycheck. Rereading the May check stub, I already received half my summer pay. As a result of my error, we have about a grand less than we'd budgeted this month. Ooops.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
"It's Hard Work, Blah, Blah, Blah"
Facing declining approval rating numbers, Curious George will adress the nation tonight and assuage our fears about the Iraq War. Let me save you the trouble of wasting any time listening to this joke of a speech. Here's what he'll say.
"A beacon of freedom and democracy in the tumultuous Middle East . . . blah, blah, blah. It's hard work opposing the enemies of liberty . . . blah, blah, blah. We liberated the people of Iraq from one of the most brutal dictators of the 20 century . . . blah, blah, blah. Through perseverence and determination, the Iraqi people will be a shining example . . . blah, blah, blah. Terrorists cannot hide . . . blah, blah, blah. We thank those who gave their lives protecting our liberties and those of the Iraqi people . . . blah, blah, blah."
In other words, we won't hear one. new. thought. Instead, Curious George will continue to feed us the same tired bullshit we've been hearing for the last couple years. So, I'd encourage you to find something more entertaining to do with your time. Here are a couple of ideas.
Watch Blow Out. This is the best reality television show ever! That's high praise coming from someone--me--who generally dislikes reality television. Watching Jonathan manage two salons, develop a new product line, and participate in fashion events is pure gold. Seriously, this is presently my most anticipated television show of the week (the 4400 & Dead Zone are a close second).
Learn to make sorbet. Cool, refreshing, and healthy.
Watch, or listen, to the NBA draft.
Have a mental debate with Tom Cruise regarding the question, "Is psychiatry a pseudoscience." You can always trump Tom by saying, "At least I don't believe dead aliens are the cause of my problems."
"A beacon of freedom and democracy in the tumultuous Middle East . . . blah, blah, blah. It's hard work opposing the enemies of liberty . . . blah, blah, blah. We liberated the people of Iraq from one of the most brutal dictators of the 20 century . . . blah, blah, blah. Through perseverence and determination, the Iraqi people will be a shining example . . . blah, blah, blah. Terrorists cannot hide . . . blah, blah, blah. We thank those who gave their lives protecting our liberties and those of the Iraqi people . . . blah, blah, blah."
In other words, we won't hear one. new. thought. Instead, Curious George will continue to feed us the same tired bullshit we've been hearing for the last couple years. So, I'd encourage you to find something more entertaining to do with your time. Here are a couple of ideas.
Watch Blow Out. This is the best reality television show ever! That's high praise coming from someone--me--who generally dislikes reality television. Watching Jonathan manage two salons, develop a new product line, and participate in fashion events is pure gold. Seriously, this is presently my most anticipated television show of the week (the 4400 & Dead Zone are a close second).
Learn to make sorbet. Cool, refreshing, and healthy.
Watch, or listen, to the NBA draft.
Have a mental debate with Tom Cruise regarding the question, "Is psychiatry a pseudoscience." You can always trump Tom by saying, "At least I don't believe dead aliens are the cause of my problems."
Saturday, June 25, 2005
Flags Galore
I stumbled across several decent pieces regarding the flag burning issue. Enjoy.
Burning Desire.
Flag Burning a Non-issue.
Flag Worship.
Salazar Backs Flag Proposal.
The final article really gives me pause. When I voted for Ken Salazar, a Democrat, I assumed he would represent the views of those on the left. I guarantee that 80 percent or more of those who voted for Salazar oppose the idea of a flag burning amendment. If that's the case, and I truly believe that it is, why is Salazar voting for the amendment? I'm sorry he has images of his father's flag draped coffin etched in his mind, but that doesn't mean he should go out and cast a vote based on personal feelings. He can deplore the burning of the flag and still respect a person's right to do so. Michael made this argument, quite eloquently, on his blog.
You can bet Senator Salazar will be getting a phone call from this unhappy constituent.
Burning Desire.
Flag Burning a Non-issue.
Flag Worship.
Salazar Backs Flag Proposal.
The final article really gives me pause. When I voted for Ken Salazar, a Democrat, I assumed he would represent the views of those on the left. I guarantee that 80 percent or more of those who voted for Salazar oppose the idea of a flag burning amendment. If that's the case, and I truly believe that it is, why is Salazar voting for the amendment? I'm sorry he has images of his father's flag draped coffin etched in his mind, but that doesn't mean he should go out and cast a vote based on personal feelings. He can deplore the burning of the flag and still respect a person's right to do so. Michael made this argument, quite eloquently, on his blog.
You can bet Senator Salazar will be getting a phone call from this unhappy constituent.
Friday, June 24, 2005
Gotta Burn Me Some Flag
It would appear those wacky conservatives are at it again. Rather than addressing some of the real issues of the day, House Republicans have pushed through a flag burning amendment. The brief amendment reads, "The Congress shall have power to prohibit the physical desecration of the flag of the United States."
I wonder if House Republicans will immediately offer a follow-up amendment that reads, "The Congress shall have power to trample freedom of speech as they see fit." This whole flag burning issue has been debated over, and over, and over. In Texas v. Johnson, the Supreme Court ruled flag burning a legitimate exercise of free speech. Who needs the Supreme Court? We'll just rewrite the Constitution. Ugh!
If the Senate passes this bill and the states ratify the amendment, I suspect I'll join the thousands of dissenters burning the flag in protest. Oddly enough, if this amendment goes through the flag will mean less to me than ever. Right now, I'm a person who stands at attention during the national anthem or Pledge of Allegiance, someone who is respectful of the flag and that for which it stands. Curtailing my right to desecrate that flag as a matter of free speech will force me to rethink my commitment to that practice. A government intent on restricting dissenting voices, a government symbolically represented by the flag, will get no respect from me.
I wonder if House Republicans will immediately offer a follow-up amendment that reads, "The Congress shall have power to trample freedom of speech as they see fit." This whole flag burning issue has been debated over, and over, and over. In Texas v. Johnson, the Supreme Court ruled flag burning a legitimate exercise of free speech. Who needs the Supreme Court? We'll just rewrite the Constitution. Ugh!
If the Senate passes this bill and the states ratify the amendment, I suspect I'll join the thousands of dissenters burning the flag in protest. Oddly enough, if this amendment goes through the flag will mean less to me than ever. Right now, I'm a person who stands at attention during the national anthem or Pledge of Allegiance, someone who is respectful of the flag and that for which it stands. Curtailing my right to desecrate that flag as a matter of free speech will force me to rethink my commitment to that practice. A government intent on restricting dissenting voices, a government symbolically represented by the flag, will get no respect from me.
Hide and Feast
Appetizer--What time do you usually wake up each day? If you could choose your wake-up time, when would it be?
I've been getting up at 1 am, 4 am, 7 am, and 10 am. If I had my druthers, I'd go to be around 3 am and awake around 9 am. That seems to be my natural sleep pattern.
Soup--When was the last time you bought groceries? What store did you go to? Name 3 things you purchased.
I stopped by King Soopers yesterday and picked up, among other things, bananas, IBC root beer, and toilet paper.
Salad--How many books have you read so far this year? Which was your favorite and why?
Truthfully, I'm not sure I can actually count the number. Although I read a great deal for enjoyment, it's also something of an occupational hazard. I'd say I've read somewhere between 50-75 books. Of those, David McCullough's John Adams proved thoroughly enjoyable (and enlightening).
Main Course--What is something you consider to be very elegant? In particular, what about that item/place/person conjures up the feeling of elegance?
The ballet. Several years ago, I discovered the beauty and elegance of the ballet and now try to attend as many performances as possible. Everything about the experience--from the performance, to the dress and manners of those in attendance--exudes elegance.
Dessert--Who taught you how to drive?
My mother, I think. My dad never had a lot of patience for that kind of thing.
I've been getting up at 1 am, 4 am, 7 am, and 10 am. If I had my druthers, I'd go to be around 3 am and awake around 9 am. That seems to be my natural sleep pattern.
Soup--When was the last time you bought groceries? What store did you go to? Name 3 things you purchased.
I stopped by King Soopers yesterday and picked up, among other things, bananas, IBC root beer, and toilet paper.
Salad--How many books have you read so far this year? Which was your favorite and why?
Truthfully, I'm not sure I can actually count the number. Although I read a great deal for enjoyment, it's also something of an occupational hazard. I'd say I've read somewhere between 50-75 books. Of those, David McCullough's John Adams proved thoroughly enjoyable (and enlightening).
Main Course--What is something you consider to be very elegant? In particular, what about that item/place/person conjures up the feeling of elegance?
The ballet. Several years ago, I discovered the beauty and elegance of the ballet and now try to attend as many performances as possible. Everything about the experience--from the performance, to the dress and manners of those in attendance--exudes elegance.
Dessert--Who taught you how to drive?
My mother, I think. My dad never had a lot of patience for that kind of thing.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Picture Show
Earlier this morning Michael wrote:
On behalf of all your regular readers, we are happy for you and wish you and your little family the best. But we need to see pictures. Thank you in advance for your cooperation. ;)
Your wish is my command. Visit Almost Obi-wan for all things Gareth.
I'm sure someone is bound to ask, "Why'd you start another blog for kid pics and updates?" That question can be answered in a couple parts. First, Rhetorical Imprints is my little corner of the cyberverse. If I want to drop the f-bomb fourteen times in a post, this is the place to do it. If I want to let Dark Derek creep out a bit, this is where he makes an appearance. As odd as it may sound, I'm not sure I want my expletive laden posts adjacent to an entry about a first tooth. Second, I vent about family on Rhetorical Imprints from time to time. To avoid the inevitable hurt feelings of family members, I've decided to keep them sheltered from my wrath. If I post pictures on Rhetorical Imprints, family members will stop by several times a week to see if there's anything new. It's probably best to save my father the annoyance of yet another liberal-minded post regarding gay marriage, the stupidity of the Iraq war, etc.; we fight about that stuff enough as it is. Almost Obi-wan is a place where he can enjoy the exploits of his grandson without my vitriol and irreverent humor (not that Rhetorical Imprints has displayed much of either, of late).
Enough about Almost Obi-wan.
The doctor gave STK and GMS the okay to head home late Sunday afternoon. Since then, we've been settling into what we hope will be a somewhat regular routine. For the first couple days it was all about survival--eat, sleep, change diapers, repeat.. Changing STK's diaper was a much more involved process than GMS's. That, I suppose, is a tale left to her telling. Monday evening, STK, GMS, and I watched the AFI tribute to George Lucas and then followed up the festivities with a viewing of the A New Hope DVD.
He cannot escape his destiny*--he will be a Star Wars geek.
*Speaking of destiny, check out Michael's post at Army of Dorkness.
On behalf of all your regular readers, we are happy for you and wish you and your little family the best. But we need to see pictures. Thank you in advance for your cooperation. ;)
Your wish is my command. Visit Almost Obi-wan for all things Gareth.
I'm sure someone is bound to ask, "Why'd you start another blog for kid pics and updates?" That question can be answered in a couple parts. First, Rhetorical Imprints is my little corner of the cyberverse. If I want to drop the f-bomb fourteen times in a post, this is the place to do it. If I want to let Dark Derek creep out a bit, this is where he makes an appearance. As odd as it may sound, I'm not sure I want my expletive laden posts adjacent to an entry about a first tooth. Second, I vent about family on Rhetorical Imprints from time to time. To avoid the inevitable hurt feelings of family members, I've decided to keep them sheltered from my wrath. If I post pictures on Rhetorical Imprints, family members will stop by several times a week to see if there's anything new. It's probably best to save my father the annoyance of yet another liberal-minded post regarding gay marriage, the stupidity of the Iraq war, etc.; we fight about that stuff enough as it is. Almost Obi-wan is a place where he can enjoy the exploits of his grandson without my vitriol and irreverent humor (not that Rhetorical Imprints has displayed much of either, of late).
Enough about Almost Obi-wan.
The doctor gave STK and GMS the okay to head home late Sunday afternoon. Since then, we've been settling into what we hope will be a somewhat regular routine. For the first couple days it was all about survival--eat, sleep, change diapers, repeat.. Changing STK's diaper was a much more involved process than GMS's. That, I suppose, is a tale left to her telling. Monday evening, STK, GMS, and I watched the AFI tribute to George Lucas and then followed up the festivities with a viewing of the A New Hope DVD.
He cannot escape his destiny*--he will be a Star Wars geek.
*Speaking of destiny, check out Michael's post at Army of Dorkness.
Saturday, June 18, 2005
All is Well
I'm home for a just a couple seconds to check on the dogs, give them some attention, and make sure the condo hasn't been pillaged. All continues to be well with STK and Baby G. I have many parenting misadventures to report. That said, less than 36 hours and I'm already getting the hang of things.
Friday, June 17, 2005
It's Alive!
At 6:42 AM, Gareth Michael entered the world of the living. Despite a rough delivery that ended in a C-section, both mother and son are now doing fine. Although I'm not really sure why, everyone keeps telling me his vital statistics are kind of important. He weighs in at 19 inches and 7.89 lbs.
I'm off for a quick nap and shower before returning to the hospital. More later.
I'm off for a quick nap and shower before returning to the hospital. More later.
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