Now 6.022 x 10(-23)% More Journalish!

A couple of hayseeds, we are.  Almost feels like we moved to Iowa instead of New York.  
Our backyard lawn has drastically declined in its overall aesthetic quality and its general grassy-ness over the past two years.  We had paid a lawn service company to help keep it growing, but they failed miserably.  The only helpful advice they offered was, "You'll have a hard time growing grass in this yard."  But that didn't stop them from taking our money.  
So now that the Dude wants to go outside all the time and with summer approaching, we decided to take it upon ourselves to beautify our backyard so he can play and frolic on grass instead of mud.  We spoke with a seemingly knowledgeable person at Lowes, who laid out our plan.  First, test the acidity of our soil.  We have lots of moss, which indicates a high acid content in the soil.  So we tested it, and our soil had more acid in it than Timothy Leary.  The solution?  Lime.  Mmmmm....lime.  We spread a lot of lime pellets all over the lawn to decrease the acidity.  Did it work?  We'll test again in a while.
The next step - till the soil.  Our arms and back became quite sore as we plowed the small tiller across the yard, spraying water as we went to help loosen the soil.  Then came the fertilizer - we spread that shit (literally) everywhere, and watered heavily.  Next, the seed.  Our yard is surrounded by tall trees and gets very little sun when the trees have leaves, so we got "deep shade" seed.  Riveting, I know.  So after the seed went down, we covered the entire yard with hay.  Yes, hay.  Hey?  No, hay.  Apparently it really helps retain moisture and keeps the birds away from the seeds.  Hay.  Seed.  Hayseed.  Boy howdy.  
So now we play the waiting game.  
("Oh, the waiting game sucks - let's play Hungry Hungry Hippos! " - Homer Simpson)
With continuous watering, we will check on the grass growth over the weekend and at some point we will rake up the hay and find a lush, green, beautiful lawn.  
And if not, I'm setting fire to the whole thing and putting in astroturf.  I'll let you know how it turns out. 

Ok, it's 13 months, not years, but nonetheless...he's growing peach fuzz and noticing girls.  

Well, maybe not quite yet.  But the Dude has certainly gone through some changes in the past month.  Most noticeable is his preferred mode of self-transportation.  About 2.5 weeks ago, he decided that crawling was for little babies - walking was for toddlers.  He'd been flirting with upright mobility for a while, but it was only recently that he made it a full-time job.  He walks everywhere...and where as before when he would fall down while walking he'd just shift into crawl mode, now when he falls he will pick his butt up and walk again.  It's pretty cool.  He loves climbing too - he can scurry up our relatively steep stairs in no time.
As the weather has warmed up, he's been going outside more.  And now, that's all he wants to do.  He can be briefly distracted by his indoor toys, but it's not long before he walks over to the back door and demands entrance to the outside world.  Of course he does not understand us when we say, "No, it's raining, sorry - we can't go out," or, "No, we just spent 6 hours out there, so we're not going back," which then usually leads to the next relatively new thing he has begun doing:  tantrums.  Fun stuff.  He plops down on the floor and gives one huge cry.  But then he moves on, so at least they don't last too long...for now.  I know it will get worse.  Yippee.
Daycare is still his favorite place.  A friend he made while in the infant room has now joined him in the young toddler room, and apparently they remembered each other and hang out together.  He now helps me gather his things when I pick him up in the afternoon - he learned to put his empty bottles into the bag for me.  He's a genius.
And I think we can now officially announce his first word - and it's actually a two-word phrase (I told you he's a genius.)  So his first phrase is:  "All done."  Of course it sounds like "Ah-duh" coming out of his mouth, but we know what he's saying.  At first he was just imitating his mom and dad saying it, but now he knows what it means and he says it appropriately.  When he doesn't want more food, he waves his hand and says it.  "Adorable" doesn't even begin to describe it.  
I turned him on to a new game that he now loves.  I will grab his pacifier and hide it in my hands, and then pull my hands apart, close-fisted with the pacifier in one, and he will guess which hand has it.  He has about a 75% success rate - I told you he's a genius.  But he's a good sport - he giggles regardless of whether or not he guesses correctly.  
So that's about it.  I'm not sure if I will continue the monthly updates - maybe I'll just post whenever necessity dictates.  Dude's Dad out.

We watched a great movie last night - In The Valley of Elah, starring Tommy Lee Jones and Susan Sarandon (in a very small but powerful role.)  Up until the last 5 seconds of the film, I would have said it was a "very good" movie.  But the very last shot, the final 5 seconds, kicked the film up the ladder to "great."  I won't spoil it for those of you who haven't seen it, but I'll just say it is not your typical happy Hollywood ending that pleases the masses.  rmstraus  and I were both elated and surprised at that last shot.
So it got me thinking about other films, and how the last shot can really be what sticks with you when the film ends, and/or how it can be the most important shot of the film.  And I'm not talking about final scenes here...I mean literally like the last 5 or 10 seconds before it fades to black and the credits roll. So here's a small list off the top of my head of the most interesting final shots of past movies.  Feel free to add your own.

1. The Godfather:  Michael Corleone's ascension to the throne is complete as we see his underlings paying their respect to him, and the door closes - literally and figuratively - on his wife.

2. Reservoir Dogs: Mr. White (Harvey Keitel) is crying and groaning, his clothes and face stained with blood, and we hear the cops (not in the camera shot) yelling repeatedly for him to drop the gun, then we hear him shoot Mr. Orange and then the cops open fire, and it goes to black.

3. The Omen:  Little devil-boy Damien (notice the spelling, thank you) stands at the funeral for his mom and...er, dad...sort of...holding hands with his aunt and uncle, and he turns and faces the camera and gives the most Satanically evil little smile a 3-year-old could ever possibly give.

4. From Dusk 'Til Dawn: The camera pans back to reveal that the trucker bar/strip club in Mexico that was the scene of many vampire deaths (at the hands of George Clooney) is actually the top chamber of an ancient Aztec pyramid.  Helps explain the whole undead thing.

5. The Naked Gun: A wheelchair-bound O.J. Simpson goes barreling down the steps at Dodger Stadium, hits the railing at the end, and is launched head-over-heels into the air.

6. Jacob's Ladder: Tim Robbins' character is pronounced dead by the Army doctors, revealing that while we thought we had been watching flashbacks during the film, we were actually seeing his entire death experience. 

7. Kentucky Fried Movie: The news anchor who began the film with the news promo, "The popcorn you're eating has been pissed in...film at eleven," returns to bookend the movie with, "I'm not wearing any pants...film at eleven."  And of course at periodic intervals in the film he also says, "Moscow in flames, missiles headed toward New York...film at eleven," and, "Rams plagued by fumbles as earthquakes rock Los Angeles...film at eleven."

Anyway, that's all I can think of at the moment.  I'm sure I missed a few obvious ones.  But see In the Valley of Elah for a great final shot.

 Yes, that's my really clever way of combining Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama's names to illustrate the point that they are essentially the same candidate.  I watched their debate in Pennsylvania last night, and it was somewhat frustrating.  They gave basically the same answers to almost every question, but just worded them differently.  I really hope that one of them wins the Penn. primary in a landslide and the other then concedes the race and we can knock off the stupid, childish back-and-forth between them.
I am not, however, of the school of thought that says the Clinton-Obama feud will only hurt the Democrats and help McCain.  No.  Obviously one of them is going to be the sole nominee.  And whether that happens soon or not until the convention, once the nominee is selected the Democrats will rally behind him/her and unite to defeat the Legion of Doom - I mean, the Republicans.  If Hillary wins, Barack will endorse her and tell his supporters to vote for her, and vice-versa.  I would be disappointed if Obama loses, but Hillary really wouldn't be all that bad.
But both of them need to grow some balls, figuratively speaking.  Their answers to the gun control question last night made me want to go purchase an assault rifle and shoot them in the kneecaps.  They were both asked, flat out, if they still supported licensing and registering all guns, as they had in the past.  Both gave extensive answers that did not address the question directly.  But it was obvious they both did support licensing and registering, so why the hell didn't they just say it?  It was as though they were trying not to offend any pro-gun Democrats or something.  They both talk about "change," and getting rid of "spin" and instead having "honest discussions about the issues."  Well then start right now!  When asked a direct yes or no question, give the yes or no answer!  That's what people want, according to you, so give it to them!
I watched the Obama half of the Compassion Forum (I think that's what it was called) last week, which allowed questions from a faith-based audience to be asked of both candidates.  While I did not see how Hillary did, Barack seemed to do really well.  I think he will convert some moderate Republicans because of his great ability to articulate the need for faith and religion without it interfering with public policy.  He straddled the church-and-state line very well, and that's what a candidate needs to do with every issue in order to win - appeal to the middle-of-the-road (or "swing") voters.  
The media, of course, wants the Hillary-Barack feud to last forever, so they continue to print every out-of-context quote they can dig up.  But it will end, and hopefully this stupid country won't make its third mistake in a row.

Well, last week my paid account on Live Journal expired.  It was gifted to me by that generous soul jamietra year ago, for no apparent reason other than to encourage me to journal more.  Lucky you.
For the time being, I have opted to not renew the paid account, even though it's only $19.95 for a year.  I am now down to only 6 userpics, and I can no longer post photos.  We'll see how long I can go with the minimalist journaling style.  So if you notice a lack of variety in my userpics, now you know why.  Try not to kill yourselves over it.  
Thanks for the past year, Jamie.  It was fun while it lasted.

 Yup...life moves pretty slow here in the backwoods of Upstate NY.  Thank god I can get away once in a while to the hustle and bustle of the big city.  The lights, the noise, the traffic...all part of the recipe that makes one fine dish:  Manhattan.
The day started off with a bang, as vickyandnorm  and I reenacted the end of the film "Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle."  Which is a fancy and unnecessary way of saying that we ate lunch at White Castle.  Mmmmmm-mmmmm....satisfying.

Speaking of satisfying, for the first time in over a year, the wife and I got to spend a night alone....if you consider being in a city of 23 billion people "alone."  But it was our first night away together since the Dude was born.  And what better way to celebrate than with 12 great friends in the second greatest city in the world (sorry NYC, Las Vegas still edges you out). 
 
But speaking of Vegas, as we headed over the George Washington Bridge, making our way to the West Side Highway, I felt nearly the same excitement from seeing the NY skyline as I would get from seeing the lights of Vegas from Interstate 15.  Giddy, one might say. 
 
After checking into my hotel, the Sheraton New York - not to be confused with the Sheraton Manhattan, which was kitty-corner from the Sheraton New York - I took a walk to Mickey Mantle's Restaurant.  It was one of the greatest walks I've ever taken.  The weather was spectacular - sunny and in the 50's.  In the 10 block journey, I saw every kind of prototypical New Yorker you can think of:  the crazy guy talking to himself; a group of people putting on Scottish dance costumes in front of Carnegie Hall; two well-dressed swarthy Don Juan-abees (copyright on that term pending) strutting down 59th Street like the sidewalk should feel honored to be trod upon by their Italian loafers; women fresh from their "How To Look Like Paris Hilton" class; and tourists.  It was awesome.

NYC cabs have changed a lot since the last time I was in one....ages ago.  They have computer monitors in the back seat so you can watch TV or follow along your travel route with a map.  The future is now.

The walk from the W Hotel to Rockefeller Center, though not as great as my previous walk, was inspiring.  The night air was balmy for early April - I felt like a big shot New Yorker in my suit and tie, strutting down 49th Street like the sidewalk should feel honored to...well, you know.
Putting on a suit for dinner is a big deal for me.  Putting on a suit for dinner on the 65th floor of Rockefeller Center was pretty sweet.  Dinner on the 65th floor of Rockefeller Center with giant windows looking right at the Empire State Building was downright bitchin'.  The $20 drinks were tasty, the $25 side salad was delicious, the $40 scallops were almost cooked perfectly, and the $13 chocolate fudgy-cakey-moussey thing was decadent.  Thank god jamietr, in his limitless if not unfathomable generosity, paid for it all.  

The next morning we headed out under cloudy skies and ate breakfast at the New York Luncheonette on 50th and Lexington.  The $12 omelet was not worth $12, but an authentic NY egg cream at 10:30 in the morning really hit the spot.  
As the Norm half of vickyandnorm broke several traffic laws (some on purpose) driving us out of the city, I felt a tinge of sadness at the prospect of not returning to the Big Apple for a while.  But that's ok - I think I'll be a little busy anyway.  

In addition to the fact that he lives in Santa Barbara, John Cleese is awesome for being really funny.

               Message from John Cleese - British comedian
               
                To the citizens of the United States of America:
             
                In light of your failure in recent years to nominate competent candidates for President of the USA and thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective immediately
             
                Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchical duties over all states, commonwealths, and territories (except Kansas, which she does not fancy).
               
                Your new Prime Minister, Gordon Brown, will appoint a Governor for America without the need for further elections. Congress and the Senate will be disbanded. A questionnaire may be circulated next year to determine whether any of you noticed.
               
                To aid in the transition to a British Crown Dependency, the following rules are introduced with immediate effect: You should look up 'revocation' in the Oxford English Dictionary.
               
                1. Then look up aluminium, and check the pronunciation guide. You will be amazed at just how wrongly you have been pronouncing it.
               
                2. The letter 'U' will be reinstated in words such as 'colour', 'favour' and 'neighbour.' Likewise, you will learn to spell 'doughnut' without skipping half the letters, and the suffix '-ize' will be replaced by the suffix '-ise'. Generally, you will be expected to raise your vocabulary to acceptable levels (look up 'vocabulary').
               
                3. Using the same twenty-seven words interspersed with filler noises such as 'like' and 'you know' is an unacceptable and inefficient form of communication. There is no such thing as US English. We will let Microsoft know on your behalf. The Microsoft spell- checker will be adjusted to take account of the reinstated letter 'u' and the elimination of -ize.
               
                4. July 4th will no longer be celebrated as a holiday.
               
                5. You will learn to resolve personal issues without using guns, lawyers, or therapists. The fact that you need so many lawyers and therapists shows that you're not adult enough to be independent. Guns should only be handled by adults. If you're not adult enough to sort things out without suing someone or speaking to a therapist then you're not grown up enough to handle a gun.
               
                6. Therefore, you will no longer be allowed to own or carry anything more dangerous than a vegetable peeler. A permit will be required if you wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public.
               
                7. All intersections will be replaced with roundabouts, and you will start driving on the left with immediate effect. At the same time, you will go metric with immediate effect and without the benefit of conversion tables. Both roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British sense of humour.
               
                8. The Former USA will adopt UK prices on petrol (which you have been calling gasoline)-roughly $6/US gallon. Get used to it.
               
                9. You will learn to make real chips. Those things you call French fries are not real chips, and those things you insist on calling potato chips are properly called crisps. Real chips are thick cut, fried in animal fat, and dressed not with catsup but with vinegar.
               
                10. The cold tasteless stuff you insist on calling beer is not actually beer at all. Henceforth, only proper British Bitter will be referred to as beer, and European brews of known and accepted provenance will be referred to as Lager. South African beer is also acceptable as they are pound for pound the greatest sporting Nation on earth and it can only be due to the beer. They are also part of the British Commonwealth- see what it did for them. American brands will be referred to as Near-Frozen Gnat's Urine, so that all can be sold without risk of further confusion.
               
                11. Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast English actors as good guys. Hollywood will also be required to cast English actors to play English characters. Watching Andie Macdowell attempt English dialogue in Four Weddings and a Funeral was an experience akin to having one's ears removed with a cheese grater.
               
                12. You will cease playing American football. There is only one kind of proper football; you call it soccer. Those of you brave enough will, in time, be allowed to play rugby (which has some similarities to American football, but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full kevlar body armour like a bunch of nancies). Don't try Rugby- the South Africans and Kiwis will thrash you, like they regularly thrash us.
               
                13. Further, you will stop playing baseball. It is not reasonable to host an event called the World Series for a game which is not played outside of America. Since only 2.1% of you are aware that there is a world beyond your borders, your error is understandable. You will learn cricket, and we will let you face the South Africans first to take the sting out of their deliveries.
               
                14. You must tell us who killed JFK. It's been driving us mad.
               
                15. An internal revenue agent (i.e. tax collector) from Her Majesty's Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all money's dues (backdated to 1776).
               
                16. Daily Tea Time begins promptly at 4 pm with proper cups, with saucers, and never mugs, with high quality biscuits (cookies) and cakes; plus strawberries (with cream) when in season.
               
                God Save the Queen!

On Yahoo right now:  "Obama related to Pitt, Clinton to Jolie"

Oh good gravy, people!  Are we not celebrity-obsessed enough that we now have to link our candidates to Brangelina?  Say, I wonder if there's any genetic link between Ron Paul and J-Lo.  How about Ralph Nader and Britney...any shared DNA there?  
Because that's really important to me in this election!  

Our obsession with celebrity has me in a pickle...and I can't seem to coat it in peanut butter and eat my way out of it.  How do we stop the madness?  People say the paparazzi is to blame.  But it's the magazines and tabloids that buy the photos, so they're to blame.  But it's the public that creates the demand for the magazines, so they're to blame.  
Ok, then how do we stop the public from caring so much about celebrities that the magazines will ease off and the paparazzi will back away?  I don't think we can - it seems like we crossed the Rubicon a long time ago.  And with the growing popularity of that new-fangled craze called "the internet," I don't see any way to quell the public's insane infatuation with wanting to know where George Clooney had dinner last night and what Paris Hilton's current underwear status might be and how much Lindsay Lohan weighed last night compared to today and how often Shia LeBouf goes to the bathroom.  I don't even know who the fuck Shia LeBouf is!  I just know his name is floating around cyberspace on a daily basis.

I don't think I'm going out on a limb by saying the government is probably behind it.  They feed the public this superficial crap so they won't pay attention to the stories and events that actually matter.  How do you distract people from the important issues and get them talking about nonsense?  
Well, throwing out a headline like "Obama related to Pitt, Clinton to Jolie" is a good start.

When jamietrfinally buys himself a plane and flies his friends all over the world, here's the plane I want him to get (click on it to enlarge):



Sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet.

Journaling is a nice way to publicly display ones experiences.  These can range from the mundane, to the exciting, to the "hey, why the hell did you bother posting that?"  So now, after this brief but unnecessary preamble, I would like to present the experience I had last night. 

I never thought it would happen to me.  There I was, quietly reading by the pool, when two beautiful young women in bikinis strolled up to me and said that they had lost their libido, and would I please help them find it.  "Maybe you should look in my pants," I said.  Giggling, they proceeded to....

Uh....whoops.  That's something else I'm writing...for a magazine.

No, here's what really happened last night. I attended a cooking class.  (Now be honest...which story do you really want to hear?  I hope it's the cooking one.)  rmstraus got me a gift certificate to Mezzo Marketplace, which has cooking classes every Friday, each with a different theme.  Last night's was "cajun."  I guaraaawwwntee.  It was tons of fun - I met some cool people and one dipwad.  There's always gotta be that one guy who wants everyone to know how smart he thinks he is.  And this time it wasn't me.
But dipwad aside, it was great.  I learned the difference between "cajun" and "creole" cuisine, and the story of the main ingredients used in that style of cooking.  Then as a group (9 of us plus the chef) we made jambalaya, gumbo, blackened catfish, fried oyster po' boys, and bananas foster.  The food was great, I learned a few new techniques, and best of all, the beer and wine were free.  I still have enough on my gift card for another class, so I'll probably do the "grilling" one in May, which they do on their patio.
Bet you can't wait for the journal post about that.

A lot of great things come from Vermont:  maple syrup, apples, Ben & Jerry's, Phish, cheese, and of course, liberal politics.  Tonight, Vermont's superior greatness shined through, and its marvelous citizens have done a wonderful thing. They had their Democratic primary, and along with the presidential candidates on the ballot, the city of Brattleboro voted on the following resolution:

"Shall the Selectboard instruct the Town Attorney to draft indictments against President Bush and Vice President Cheney for crimes against our Constitution, and publish said indictment for consideration by other municipalities? And shall it be the law of the Town of Brattleboro that the Brattleboro Police, pursuant to the above-mentioned indictments, arrest and detain George Bush and Richard Cheney in Brattleboro if they are not duly impeached, and extradite them to other authorities that may reasonably contend to prosecute them."

Obviously this vote has no legal ramifications - it's merely a symbolic statement by the city of Brattleboro. 

They are still counting the votes, but as of right now, the resolution is passing by a very wide margin.
I'm buying a pint of Phish Food tomorrow to celebrate. 


UPDATE:  The measure did pass, but the margin narrowed: 2012 to 1795.  I'm still happy.

So I meant to say something about this in my previous post:  children's songs.  For the most part, the CDs we have for the Dude are pretty good.  There's a "heavy metal lullaby" one, with musak versions of Slayer, Iron Maiden, etc.  It's pretty cool.  We also have two "Baby Loves Jazz" CDs, featuring genuine jazz music, but kid-friendly at the same time...like a groovy little tune about peanut butter and jelly.  But we just got a C that is starting to make me nauseous already...disco baby songs.  I tell ya, you haven't heard "I'm a Little Teacup" until you've heard the disco version.  And then they take regular disco songs like "We Are Family" and add giggly little dialog throughout.  Yes, there's a disco "Wheels On the Bus" - a tune that is soon going to make me kill somebody.  Good god that's annoying.  And then there's the disco version of "Hickory Dickory Dock." 
Now obviously I've known this song all my life...but it wasn't until hearing all 12 verses in disco format that something struck me as odd about the title.  It's one of the words in there - "dickory."  Ok, now we all know "hickory" is a real word...it's a type of wood.  "Dock" of course is a very common word, heard often at seaports and on space stations.  And then there's "dickory."  This is not a word. 
I understand Mother Goose or whoever wanted something to rhyme with hickory, but they didn't have to make up a word.  "Chicory" would have worked.  But then the alliteration with "dock" would have been lost, so it would have ended up "Hickory Chicory Cock."  And I guess that's worse.
I just have a problem with "dickory."  It sounds like a 16th century crime or something:
"Your majesty, this man is charged with arson, robbery, and three counts of aggravated dickory!" 
"And what's worse is that the queen was the victim of his dickory."
"This man has been attempting dickory with several farm animals as well."

See what I mean?  Dickory.  Thanks Mother Goose.

That's how long I've been a father.  Seems like a long time, right?  Feels like it too...some of the time.  Yes, the Dude - aka The Tank, aka Mr. Stinkypants - is now 11 months old.  And what's new?  So glad you asked!
There is some debate as to whether or not he has taken his first steps.  On a few occasions, he has been standing on his own and then moved one foot.  Now some would argue that counts as a step, while others might opine that a step requires the body to actually move forward.  So you decide.
While he hasn't really said any words yet (besides da-da, of course) he has just mastered one of the sign language - um...signs - that we have been teaching him.  He can sign "more."  When he's in his high chair eating Cheerios and he runs out, he smacks his fingertips together, which is pretty much the sign for "more."  We are very proud. 
He is almost ready to eat all the foods we eat...we can now start him on dairy products like cheese and yogurt (no straight milk for another month or so).  At daycare he is eating things like turkey sandwiches, chicken nuggets, waffles, and fruits and veggies of course. 
Speaking of daycare, he absolutely loves it.  Plus he naps really well there.  And his teacher tells us he is a very sharing little boy - he likes to give things to the other kids.  He has done this at home as well - he'll offer us, and Cali, his toys, pacifier, diapers, etc. 
Oh, the nickname "The Tank?"  In a room full of toys, when he wants to get from point A to point B, he will smash, climb, crush, and steamroll his way over anything in his path.  That includes dogs and people.
Cali is growing slightly more tolerant of him....maybe because he has not been quite as aggressive with her lately.  But the smile he gets whenever he sees Cali lights up the room.  He loves to bang on the glass door to the backyard when Cali is outside.  He smacks the window and yells gleefully at her.
Bath time is still a huge thrill for him.  He has now developed a great interest in the water coming out of the tub faucet.  He looks at it like Indiana Jones looks at the gold idol in the opening of Raiders of the Lost Ark.  He tentatively sticks his hand into the water flow and then pulls it back. 
Speaking of being interested in inanimate objects, he has also developed quite a love/hate relationship with the Roomba (one of those robotic vacuum cleaner dealies).  When it is turned off, he very slowly approaches it, but never gets too close...he just smiles at it and then retreats with a bit of fear.  But if he's around when Roomba is activated, he screams so loud you'd think he was one day old again.  This battle could become epic.
Here's something that you won't care too much about, but hey - you already read this far, what's a little more?  When it's my night to give the Dude his bottle and put him to bed, I always sing to him.  Here's the current rotation of songs in my mental jukebox that I pull from on those nights:
The Eagles - Hotel California
                        Desperado
Pearl Jam - Black
                      I Wish
Midnight Oil - One Country
Rolling Stones - Loving Cup
U2 - One Tree Hill
         MLK
         Running to Stand Still
         Bad
Phish - Waste
              Sleep
Tori Amos - Silent All These Years
Pink Floyd - Brain Damage/Eclipse
Beatles - Yellow Submarine
Slayer - Altar of Sacrifice (just kidding)

He always falls asleep when I sing to him.  What can we conclude from that?  Yes, even a baby would rather pretend to be asleep than hear me sing.  Whatever - as long as he's quiet.
So that's about it.  The next Dude-related post will most likely be on his 1st birthday.  So mark your calendars. 
Hasta lasagna, don't get any on ya.

I went to Boskone, a sci-fi/fantasy convention in Boston.  This was not one of those conventions where everyone was in crazy costumes, with giant Star Wars displays or anything.  This was just a convention with workshops and panels for the dedicated sci-fi or fantasy fan. 
Why did I go?  Well I needed to get away for a night, and jamietr was going to be there, and I've had an interest in seeing what a sci-fi convention is all about, so I figured - why not? 

My head is filled with so much incredible info and experiences that I want to impart to you all, and I think the best way to do that is in two parts.  Part #1 will be a rundown of my activities in chronological order, and then part #2 will be my humorous/clever/inane/witty/stupid commentary on everything from part #1.  So here goes.

Part 1

1:20 pm - arrived at the Westin Waterfront Hotel, adjacent to the Boston Convention Center.  I soon discovered that the Boskone convention was relegated to the hotel only - nothing took place inside the convention center.  Ok.

2:00pm - met up with Jamie, bought my admission to the convention, received fancy badge here:


3:00pm - attended a panel discussion (because Jamie wanted to go) about short story writing.  During this event, I had an opportunity to use Jamie's iPhone to check my email.  This thing is awesome.  I don't know if it's worth $600...but it really is a nifty device.  Oh, the title of this post came from that panel discussion - one of the authors said something to the effect of "a good story should have a balance of dinosaurs and sodomy, metaphorically speaking."  I understood what he meant.

4:00 - Jamie stayed for a panel discussion about the newest Battlestar Galactica TV series.  I left for a separate one that was about music.  More on this in part #2.

5:00 - Went back to where Jamie was, met mabfan, an accomplished sci-fi writer and quite a nice guy.  Then Jamie and I left for dinner.  We walked down to the waterfront and ate at a sports bar & grill on the water, as made evident by Jamie here:

 
Being that we were in Boston, I had a lobster roll - it was fantastic, and nearly worth the $17 it cost.  We saw a groovy statue on the way back, dedicated to the Polish underground soldiers who fought the Nazis in WWII and the Russians during the Cold War occupation:
  

7:00pm - had a drink in the lobby bar area.  Our waitress was ambiguously hitting on us...or she was just bored.  In fact she said she was really bored and that's why she was talking to us, but I suspect she was covering up her true intentions. 

8:00pm - attended a panel discussion where two story titles were mashed together to create a new title, and the panel had to come up with a plot for this new story.  Example: "The Return of the King and I."  The plot they came up with involved orcs ballroom dancing.  The only other titles I recognized was when someone suggested, "Soylent Green Acres."

9:00pm - expecting an awards ceremony, we instead were treated to a live reading of a short story entitled, "The Stinky Princess."  5 actors performed the story on a stage, with the audience creating the sound effects.

10:00pm - 12:30pm - we talked with a few other conventioneers, wandered the "party floor" where many of the guests were having room parties, complete with beer-filled bathtubs (beer in bottles) and sci-fi novels scattered about.

I left at 10:00am this morning after a quick breakfast with Jamie.

Part 2

JESUS JUMPED-UP CHRIST!  What an unbelievable experience.  The first thing I noticed was that 90% of the people there looked like 90% of the people I worked with at Blizzard, testing computer games.  The other 10% looked like old college professors.  And then there was me and Jamie, who looked like nobody else at the convention.  In fact, the waitress at the bar asked if we were part of the group.  I asked her if we looked like we were, and she said no.  But then we showed her our bad-ass badges, and she raised an eyebrow in surprise.  There were more men with ponytails there than I'd ever seen grouped together in one place...ever.  And there was one guy who I think really was the stereotypical nerdy sci-fi geek - he had his pants pulled up to his chest, his NASA polo shirt tucked in, and his thick glasses dangled at the end of his nose.  But I'm sure his IQ is about 657.  There was a guy in a black vest and a kilt, a guy in a red cape, and a guy in an orange jumpsuit with a propeller beanie.  And everyone was wearing glasses.  Lenscrafters should sponsor one of these things...it was nuts.
But here's the thing - I totally respect these people.  There's this crazy hippie vibe going on - they don't care what's cool, they don't care how they look to other people, they don't conform...they are who they are and if you don't like it, catch the next spaceship to Uranus.  And I completely dig that. 
But on the other hand, some small part of me wants to say, "Hey, you're 45 years old and you're going to a discussion on Elves.  Hello???"

The first panel was not interesting to me, but I can appreciate how writers like Jamie would find it useful.  The second panel I went to was absolute madness.  There were 5 performers at the front of the room, and the idea was that each would perform a song that somehow connected to the song preceding it.  What I didn't know (but should have) was that the songs would all be about characters and things from the sci-fi/fantasy world.  And I also didn't know that there is a name for these types of singing events:  filking. 
Sounds dirty, right?  Well it wasn't - it was 180 degrees from dirty, actually. 
To give you a quick idea of what went on, the first song was about Beowulf.  And the chorus went something like, "Hi-ho, the epic poem, the poem known as Beowulf!"  And during this chorus, everyone sang along!!!  I nearly shit myself.  The next song I actually knew - it was Weird Al's "The Saga Begins," which is about Star Wars Episode 1, sung to the tune of "American Pie."  And then the third song was a 60's style war protest song...about the Clones from Star Wars Episode 2.  It was both awesome and completely horrifying at the same time.
But here's the thing about the whole hour-long event - everyone knew all the words to all the songs.  I was astounded.  There were songs about dragons, about the Mars Rover, about "Watership Down," and people not only sang along but provided backup harmony vocals and percussion.  It was like a hippie sing-a-long or something.  I sat in the back corner covering my mouth the whole time.  It was incredible.

One crazy observation I made was that there seems to be a weird sub-culture within the sci-fi community: knitters.  At each panel and throughout the hotel, the majority of the female conventioneers were knitting.  Jamie had no explanation for this.  I don't know if I actually want to know why this occurs, but it really was strange.

We met  a woman who can best be described as being a sci-fi "groupie."  She mainly was hitting on Jamie, and seemed to have little knowledge of any sci-fi/fantasy literature.  She was more curious about Jamie's anatomy.  She seemed a bit suspicious when Jamie told her he was a writer.  "You're so much more athletic-looking than anyone else here," she said.  She asked Jamie if I was married when I left the room for a moment.  Then she told us she really wanted to party that night.  I hope she found the Anakin of her dreams.

The most ironic thing that happened was that last night I partied more than I had in quite a while...and it was at a science fiction convention!
Of all the places to get free booze and hang out with people...a sci-fi convention.
It was an educational and fun experience...I really had a great time.

So yesterday was the Chinese New Year, and as I just found out, it's the Year of the Rat.  I was born in the Year of the Rat, 3 Year of the Rats ago.  Cosmic, right?  Straus Mouse born in the Year of the Rat?  Maybe I should have been Chinese.  So I guess it's going to be a good year for me...??  Well, let's look at the last few Rat Years:

1972:  I was born.  So it was a good year, not only for me, but for the world in general....because I was born.  Not because Nixon bombed Vietnam on Christmas two days after I was born.  What an asshole.  

1984:  I graduated 6th grade - a great achievement, I know.  I loved 6th grade.  I vividly remember celebrating right after the very last class of the year with my friend Eliot.  We plugged a boom box into the outlet outside the classroom, and blasted Quiet Riot's "Metal Health" album (cassette) as loud as it would go, while we waited for our parents to pick us up.
            The Olympics came to L.A. that year, and it was a lot of fun - it was cool to have the whole country focused on our little hamlet.  I remember seeing a diving event (featuring a young, closeted Greg Luganis), a quarterfinal basketball game between two countries that probably don't exist anymore, and the coup de gras, the gold medal soccer match.  The Rose Bowl was filled to capacity watching France beat Brazil.  But the highlight of the evening was the "wave" that the crowd performed during halftime (keep in mind 1984 was the crest of the wave's popularity.  Crest?  Wave?  Yes, I am brilliant).  The wave was perfectly formed and circled the Rose Bowl 11 times.  It was awesome.

1996:  A pretty good year.  I got a promotion at the TV station where I worked.  I drove from Santa Barbara to San Jose 3 times in three months to see concerts:  Pantera with White Zombie, Rage Against the Machine, and The Misfits with Anthrax and Cannibal Corpse.  Two of those trips I worked in the morning, drove up in the afternoon, saw the concert, spent the night, and drove home the next morning, and worked that afternoon.  Crazy?  Yes - but 

rmstraus  wouldn't go see those shows in L.A. with me, so I had to go where my metal-head friends were.  

2008:  Not bad for the first 38 days.  But I anticipate good things, like a shindig in NYC in April courtesy of jamietr, the Dude's continued development such as walking and talking, and a possible (and as it turns out, apropos) trip I will be taking in November - but more details to follow on that when and if  it's confirmed.  
Anyway, here's to all my fellow rats/mice out there - Happy New Year. 

 

 

 

So yesterday a large number of states held their primary elections - what I like to call "Super Tuesday" - including New York.  We have not had a primary election since we moved to NY, and yesterday I discovered something about the Albany primary voting experience that made me chuckle.  
Albany County uses enormous voting machines, no smaller than the WOPR computer from the movie War Games.  For primary elections, there is a Democrat side and a Republican side on the voting display panel.  The Democrat side is in green, the Republican in pink.  So for the actual voting, only one side is activated (to prevent a registered Democrat from voting Republican, and vice-versa).  The active side is signified by a light on top of the booth - green for Democrat, red for Republican. 
It is well known that Albany is an overwhelmingly Democratic city - Republicans don't even bother running for local office here.  But a registered Republican was in line with me yesterday - when he signed in, they gave him a laminated card, in pink, with a large "R" printed on it.  The apparent purpose of the card was to let the booth operator know to activate the Republican side of the booth when he went in.   So there he stood in line, waiting for the voting booth to be available, holding his Scarlett Letter (as it were)  on his chest, letting his sin be known to all.  It was hilarious. 
But at least he had a good sense of humor about it.  A woman that was with him kept ribbing him, and I even mentioned something about the Scarlett Letter to him - he was cool....for a Republican.  So when it was his turn, he handed over his card, stepped into the booth, and the light on top went bright red - they might as well have had a big neon arrow pointing at the booth with a sign saying, "Hey - there's a Republican voting now!"  People would gather 'round and ogle, like they were observing some rare species of wildebeest at a zoo or something.  
Good stuff.