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

Bill Cosby received the Mark Twain Prize for Humor last week, and they showed this incredible clip from the Dick Cavett show of Bill describing his days as an aspiring jazz musician. It's fantastic - anyone who can make Jack Benny fall out of his chair is doing something right!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WScoPutUeiY&feature=related

Let me preface this by saying that I believe altering photographs using hi-tech software, or even doing it old-school with hand-tinting, is absolutely a form of artistic expression and is worthy of merit; truly beautiful works of art can be produced using these methods.

That being said, I am having some sour feelings regarding the use of these techniques for a photography contest.

Let me back up a minute. I entered a contest sponsored by the St. Agnes Cemetery, an enormous estate just north of Albany, with graves dating back to the 17^th century. It’s a gorgeous swath of land filled with rolling hills and trees. The contest had few limitations – a photographer could submit two shots, as long as they were taken between July 1^st and October 14^th, and as long as they were taken on the cemetery grounds.

The winners of the contest were announced yesterday at a reception, and it turns out there were over 200 photos submitted…quite a wide variety of images for the judges to choose from. Cash prizes were awarded to 1^st, 2^nd and 3^rd place winners. I did not win anything, but I’m not bitter about that – with so many great photos to view, I don’t know how the judges came to consensus. The 1^st place winner’s shot was beautiful…but it had been clearly altered, either by hand or using software.

So my problem is this – when a photographer wins a contest with an altered photograph, is he showing that he is the best photographer, or simply that he is better than anyone else at photo alteration? Would his shot have won had he left it untouched? Should an altered photo be judged the same as those that are left in their natural state? These are the questions that are plaguing me today. I certainly don’t blame him for creating his work of art that way – as I said, it was beautifully done, and did not break any contest rules. But maybe for these types of contests there should be two categories – natural photos, and altered photos. Because while I believe in alteration as an art form, I also believe there is true art in untouched photography, and I’m not sure you can judge both equally in this kind of forum.

Maybe I’m missing something because of my personal involvement in this contest – anyone agree with me? Anyone think I’m being an idiot? (For this reason only, not for your list of other reasons, thank you.)

 I’m halfway through my first college semester in fifteen years, and things are still going surprisingly easy.  I still feel like the smartest person in the class, and certainly the hardest worker – I was the only one who did the reading for last week’s class.  We had to turn in a paper and read about 25 pages, and nobody else even read part of that 25.  I’m hearing the dumbest excuses for not turning papers in on time, blaming it all on technology (our professor accepts papers via email):

“Oh, I was having an issue with my home computer – it wouldn’t attach things to my email.” 

“You didn’t get my email?  I totally sent it…oh maybe I sent it to the wrong address.”

“I had it saved on my school email but I couldn’t access it from home.”

And the problem is that the professor is so technologically primitive and is such a sweet old lady that she buys all these excuses!  I have to turn my head so people don’t see me laughing at their lame justifications for not doing their work on time.  When I was in school years ago we didn’t have this issue – you either physically had your paper, or you did not.  There was no email option, literally.  “My dog ate my homework” has now become “My dog deleted my hard drive.”

Part of my most recent paper, for which I got an “A,” showed a comparison between Achilles and Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader.  Yes, I compared an ancient Greek warrior to a figment of George Lucas’ imagination, and it was awesome.  I did not have this kind of fun 15 years ago, and I don’t know if I just chose not to, or if the option for this kind of creativity simply wasn’t there.  But what I do know is that, as with my first paper, all I have to do is regurgitate what the professor said in class and I get comments on the paper like “Great point!” and “Important information!”  Well that great point and important information was given to me by you, professor!  Is the system so screwed up now that I earn praise for remembering what was said to me in class one week prior to writing it in a paper?  It’s cuckoo, I tell ya.

So now it’s time to pick a class for next semester.  I have to meet with an advisor to find out which class will count toward my degree.  My current professor is teaching another class next semester, and if it will count for me, I might take it, since she seems to be an easy “A.”  Plus she has some amazing quotes in class…sometimes she just speaks out of naivite, but sometimes they’re just so silly, I have to keep from chortling.  Here are a few chestnuts:

“Has anyone here actually seen a rainbow?”
"What's a film that's like a comic book but looks real?"
"Who knows what a proper noun is?"

“I won’t have access to phone or email…I’ll be incognito.”
"What's a TV show that's a continuous series?"
"He's the world's biggest knucklehead...excuse the expression."

“Some people think the Iliad and the Odyssey were written by the same person.”

“Who is the one that becomes pregnant in a relationship?”

 

Onward and upward.  I’ll keep you posted. </style>

My career counselor told me that if my ideal job was to be a food/music/movie critic, then I should start writing about food/music/movies.  Well as I told you a month or so ago, I am a contributor to the music blog at jacobull.wordpress.com.  And now I have started my own food blog:  http://mousehousekitchen.wordpress.com/. 
So I guess all that's left is the movie blog...soon to come.  Why all the blogging?  Well I love writing...love it.  If anyone reads what I write, bonus.  If they comment on it, double bonus.  And I guess I do have some far-fetched fantasy that someday my writing will be discovered by someone who wants to pay me to do it...hence the advice from my career counselor. 
So the strausmouse.livejournal.com blog will just be my general blog, mainly about the Dude (which is pretty much all it's about now anyway) and other non-food or non-music related events.  But please check out the others - I think you can sign up for an email alert whenever there's a new post so you don't have to check the site itself (but keep in mind the music blog is not mine - I write a few posts a week on it).
Thanks for your support...the emotional support, I mean...financial support would be appreciated too though...no, really, don't hold back...

So by popular demand – and by that I mean that one member of the world’s population has demanded it – I present the 2-year and just-over-6-month update of the infamous Dude.

I suppose the most obvious part of his personality now is his independence.  Pretty much all of his “baby” tendencies are gone, save for the diapers (potty training is going ok, we think – he sometimes will ask to go on the toilet before going in his diaper, but mostly we have to encourage him to use it).  He gave up the baby bottle a month or two ago, and that went easier than we expected.  And the big news is that he no longer sleeps with a pacifier!!  We had planned on forcibly removing it soon ourselves, but one morning last week I asked him to put it away, and he asked, “In the garbage?”  I said, “Sure, you want to throw it away?”  “Like my bottles?” he replied.  “Yes, great!” I said.  So in the trash it went, and much to our amazement, it hasn’t been a disaster.  The first few nights and mornings were a little tough – he wasn’t asking for it specifically, but had trouble falling asleep and was getting up too early.  But last night he went down without a fight or even his usual stall tactics (“Hey daddy, I want to tell you something” is a favorite), and slept until 6:00.  And hopefully it will continue to get better – we’re quite proud he wanted to get rid of it on his own.

He wants to do everything.  We can’t open a door, move a chair, close a cabinet, use the microwave, or even feed the dog without hearing, “No I want to do it!”  This gets annoying, but at least he wants to be involved…very, very involved. 

Everyone comments on his talking – neighbors, teachers, relatives…they all say he talks so well.  We think so too, and I guess when we hear other kids who are slightly older than him who don’t talk nearly as well, we assume he’s a genius or something…or something.  His memory is still incredible – he’ll see something that he hasn’t seen in months, and will remember the where and when and who surrounding the last time he saw it. 

But I think the most telling thing about his intelligence is what he does at the end of “Go Diego Go.”  I’m sure you all know that at the end of each show, Diego recaps the animal facts that everyone learned about during the episode, and asks questions about it (example:  does a chinchilla have tiny ears or really big ears?).  But our little comedian will purposely pick the incorrect answer, and then laugh when we say “Noooo.”  So he really knows the right answers, but has the impish instinct to pick the wrong ones for comedic effect.  He will occasionally pick the right answer by accident, and then try to change his answer when we tell him he got it right.  It’s too funny.

He’s gotten in the habit of saying “thanks for making a yummy dinner, daddy,” which just makes me smile until my cheeks fall off.  He eats well; in fact lately we have to make mid-week grocery store trips to keep up with him.  I guess when you burn off 8 billion calories a day running around like a maniac, you need more food.

Lastly, I assume you all heard about our fun trip to the ER with him a few weeks ago for febrile seizures (caused by dramatic increase in body temp over a short span of time).  As I had mentioned, these are apparently normal and in fact healthy – the seizure is how the body compensates for the sudden change, and helps prevent internal damage.  It’s just hard to be watching your child having spasms in your arms and tell yourself, “Oh this is healthy.”  But the virus left after a few days and he was back to normal.

Seeing him seize was the worst thing we’d ever experienced – the feeling of helplessness and not knowing what to do is something I’d never wish on any parent.  And as much as he can try our patience and frustrate us, seeing him acting normal in the ER and then again after the virus was gone was the biggest sense of relief we’d ever felt.  But as worried and scared as we were then, we know it’s very likely that worse things could happen – we almost felt luckily that we had gone 2 ½ years without going to the ER until then.  This prompted me to ask Ryane in the doctor’s office (when he was nauseous and vomiting all day), “Tell me again why we had a kid?”  But last week when he saw my band-aid on my arm after my flu shot and demanded to kiss it to make it feel better and gave me a hug, my question was answered.  I can’t imagine life without him (though I can sometimes imagine a weekend without him).

Qualifier #1:  I am livid, fuming, and otherwise uber-pissed as I write this.  These emotions may have some effect on what I write.

Qualifier #2:  If the Cardinals had ended up winning the game, I would not be writing this.

Call this “therapy” for me.

“I lost it in the lights.”  That was Matt Holliday’s excuse for dropping a line drive hit to him in left field.  Had he caught it, the Cardinals would have won the game and tied the series up before heading to St. Louis.  Instead, the error lead to a 2-out Dodger rally that won the game in the bottom of the 9^th, and gave the Dodgers a 2-0 lead in the series, needing only one more win to advance. 

My first issue with this is buying his excuse.  While it is well known that the Dodger Stadium lights have caused many an outfielder to lose track of fly balls, this was not a high, towering drive – it was a sinking line drive.  Look at Matt’s eyes on the replay – he’s not staring up into the night air – he’s practically looking straight ahead.  I find it hard to buy his explanation, but the general feeling among the other players is that he probably did lose it in the lights.  While this might add some validity to his excuse, there is another reason I’m skeptical.

That reason is Holliday’s overall body language and attitude during this series.  His lackluster effort in his first at-bat in Game 1 set the tone – he struck out looking on an obvious strike, and had the gall to complain about the call.  He has 2 hits in 8 at-bats so far, a .250 average.  Granted one of those hits was a home run, but he just seems unmotivated and blasé so far.  And I think this contributed to his game-costing error last night.

Baseball players are far from perfect, and expecting any of them not to make an error is unrealistic and wrong.  But Holliday is a 3-time All-Star, and a World Series runner-up; when the game is on the line in the playoffs, he is expected to perform better than the average player.  Last night his execution on that line drive was below average – maybe it was the lights, maybe it was his attitude, and maybe it was a combination of both.  But the fact is now the Cards are deep in a hole, and it’s his fault.  Holliday could redeem himself with an offensive onslaught over the next 3 games that vault the Cards into the next round.  Or he will be remembered as the guy who cost the team the series.  Either way it doesn’t change the fact that I was violently angry last night – but after writing this I feel calmer. 

Stupid Dodgers.    

So I am now a contributor to a blog called Hi-Fi & Low Expectations - Music Reviews and Mindless Banter.  It's my friend's blog, focused on music.  I have written a review of the Down concert I attended last week as my first post there.  You can visit the site here:  http://jacobull.wordpress.com/

Now go have fun.

I now have two – count ‘em – two classes under my belt, and I’m not ready to quit.  But after last night’s session, I’m having a mental conundrum and I’m not sure of the answer.  Either I am way smarter than I already thought (which would be hard to believe), or college classes have gotten a lot less difficult in the last 15 years, or this particular class is just plain easy.

The discussion we had following the assigned reading was so simple, so basic that I felt like a 36-year-old man in a room full of 20-year-old kids…oh, wait…that’s exactly what it was.  Hmmm.  Did I just get a hell of a lot smarter in the last 15 years?  Or did I have the smarts before but just didn’t care?  Ah yes, that must be it. 

I’m not so sure I care that much now…but what I do know is that I felt like the smartest (or at least among the smartest) in the room last night.  And not because I had some amazing insights or interpretation of the reading…but maybe because I actually did the reading.  Is that the secret?  Is that all I had to do 15 years ago?  Do the work?  What?  Why didn’t anyone tell me that? 

I’m sure someone did, but again, I just didn’t care.  But now this newfound academic proficiency leads me to another worry:  perhaps this class will be too beneath me and so unchallenging that I will fail.  No, you’re not worried about that?  Ok, I’ll trust you…for now. 

So I guess so far so good…I’ll keep you posted.  Lucky you.

Man walking on the moon.  The Eagles reuniting.  The Berlin Wall coming down.  Roger Waters playing with Pink Floyd again.  And now....
I am going back to school.

Yes, that's right.  Many of you know that I last attended school in Santa Barbara 15 years ago.  Due to my lack of interest in "going to class" or "doing work," coupled with my affection for the part-time job I had at a television station, the university declared me "Academically Disqualified."  I'm not sure why they had to add the "academically" part, as though there were other opportunities at the school from which I was not disqualified, but whatever.  
For the last 15 years I have not regretted not finishing my degree.  Never have I been turned down for a job because of it, and I was lucky enough to have 3 or 4 jobs over the last 9 years that have been fantastic jobs. 
But following my layoff in April, the wheels in the ol' cranium began to shake off the rust and somehow forced themselves to turn a couple of revolutions, and after a lot of encouragement from my beloved, I decided to give school another shot.  I think I'd like the closure, or at least to know whether or not I really have what it takes to finish.  St. Rose has some interesting classes that would count toward my degree, and if it all goes to hell, I really don't have much to lose.  So starting tomorrow (GAAA!!) I will be taking Early World Literature every Monday evening from 6-9PM.

The positives: 
1.  Thanks to said beloved's employment position, I can take classes at St. Rose for free (other than some nominal fees).  So like I said, if I quit halfway through, I'm not losing too much. 
2.  I can transfer quite a bit of my Santa Barbara coursework toward a degree at St. Rose, but with only taking night or weekend classes, it would take a few years before I was done.
3.  After 15 years, hopefully my attitude and work ethic toward school has matured and will make me a better student (we'll see!)

The negatives:
1.  Since I am now employed again, I can only take evening or weekend classes.  This severely limits what I have to choose from, and my fear is that if I take something I'm not super-excited about (like Early World Literature), I will not do well.
2.  Not doing well is bad, because I am taking this class non-matriculated....meaning I am not officially registered as a St. Rose student.  Due to my status at Santa Barbara, they could not accept me.  But if I do well as a non-matriculated student, they will enroll me.  So essentially if I pass this class and show interest in pursuing it further, I can keep taking classes. 
3.  I am scared to death!!  I'm just afraid I'll end up being the same student I was 15 years ago, and that will disappoint a lot of people.  Plus sitting through 3 hours of class after a full work day, and then doing a ton of reading during the couple of free hours I have each day, sounds like a hassle rolled up in a burden and slathered with annoyance.

So that's the roller coaster ride I call my brain right now.  I'm trying to go into it with a positive attitude, but I honestly have no idea how this will turn out.  Stay tuned.

Many of you know that I think Las Vegas is the greatest place in the world, and that in the years before moving to Albany, I visited LV all the time, and when I die I'd like my ashes scattered on Fremont Street.  It's been about 3.5 years since my last visit, and somehow that long separation triggered a most interesting dream in the dark recesses of my brain last night.
I was in Vegas, unaccompanied.  I was in a hotel, it was night.  I think it was Caesar's Palace, but not as it exists in reality.  Last night, it was probably closer to what the real Caesar's Palace looked like in ancient Rome, but with all the modern amenities of the 21st century.
I have no idea how tall the actual hotel was, but I remember the casinos were spread out amongst the first 5 or 6 floors, each one stretching endlessly into dim light, the illumination coming from built-in lanterns high up the circular walls, casting an orange glow on to the people and gambling machines below. 
I recall using the elevator to check out each casino floor, and while now I can't seem to remember how each one differed from another, in the dream they did just that. 
Each floor also had several bars and restaurants.  Huge floor-to-ceiling windows encased the entirety of the hotel.  It was hard to see faces, the only light coming from those lanterns, or from the moonlight streaming through the giant windows.
I remember being dressed in a suit and tie, and I remember seeing lots of people I knew (once they were up close), though now I don't recall who specifically they were.  As is the reality in Vegas, everyone was beautiful and sexy as hell and just walking through those casino floors was a ferocious turn-on.
Then I came to one floor which at first seemed like the others, until I noticed something far in the back - a large opening into another room that I didn't recognize (apparently since I'd been to the real Caesar's Palace in Vegas, I had been to this dream one as well).  I gravitated toward the unfamiliar space, and upon walking in, I saw in the front area lots of tables, with many people dining and/or drinking.  But in the back of the room...oh boy.
An extremely long bar counter arced around the entire back wall of the room (like the others, it was a circular room).  There was also a second level to this part of the room - a loft, if you will - with another bar running parallel to the one below, nearly the same length.  But there were no bartenders, no drinks being served, no bar stools...instead, covering every inch of the counter tops, were people entwined in fleshy embraces, performing acts of passion and lust.  I couldn't lock in on faces, just tongues and nipples and legs and...clothes.  Yes, despite the orgiastic indulgences, everyone was still clothed, or as much as possible and still be able to participate in the sinful acts of desire.  But even stranger was that the clothing was not from this era, nor ancient Rome....it was kind of like French aristocratic clothing, combined with a sort of upper-class Victorian England influence.  And it wasn't until I really noticed the clothing in the dream that I completely grasped what I was looking at:  they were all women.  Yes, a Sapphic sexual free-for-all in Western European attire from the 18th and 19th centuries, taking place atop two opulent bar counters in some giant time period-bending casino in Sin City. 
And I seemed to be the only one paying attention to this wall-sized display of...affection.  All the other patrons were engrossed in their own endeavors, apparently adhering to the now-famous axiom "What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas."

I left that room, walked back to the elevators, pushed a button, the door closed, and the dream ended.

God how I miss Las Vegas.

Most of you have seen the photos by now of our recent sojourn to California, but there are a few things not photographically reflected that I thought I might bore you with.  Isn't it your lucky day?

First, a word about airport security:  note to TSA - be consistent!  Each time we fly now, there seems to be something that gets flagged by security at one airport, and ignored by security at another.  This time it was Play-Doh.  We took it through the Albany airport security without incident.  But coming back through Burbank, they took it out of the backpack, told us it was considered a "liquid or gel," put it into a bag and sent it through their Seuss-esque Cacophonous Caplooky Chemical Catching machine.  Now I have no problem with them doing this - I saw "Mission: Impossible," I know that even a stick of gum can be an explosive device...but why didn't Albany catch it?  And I swear this type of inconsistency happens every time we fly.  Git yer shit together, guys.

As you may have seen from the pics, we took a 3-day cruise from Long Beach to Ensenada, courtesy of Ryane's grandma.  Here's the thing about 3-day cruises to Ensenada:  unless your goal is to get really tan and really drunk, it's a boring cruise.  The 3rd day was spent entirely at sea, and other than trying to entertain the little Dude, we were bored out of our minds.  You can only play shuffleboard and ping pong so many times...were we sans child, we certainly could have passed the time drinking our brains to sleep, but watching the steroid-infused jock-like creatures and the barely-covering bikini-wearing trollops cavorting near the pool did nothing to make us envious of their freedom to look like idiots.

We were in Ensenada 14 years ago, and our memories of it are filled with beggars and children selling Chiclets everywhere.  Fond memories, they are not.  But things have changed.  The area closest to the cruise ship docks is much cleaner and more tourist-friendly...there are a lot more restaurants and shopping areas, and a minimum amount of beggars and gum-bearing little ones.  Kevin, his sister and I left the Dude with his grandparents for a couple of hours and hit the town. We started with a little geekery, in the form of geo-caching.  Kevin had nerdly downloaded some locations in Ensenada, and we found a couple of them.  Geeky, yes, but cool.

The two best parts of the whole trip for me happened in town.  The first was at a t-shirt store.  The guy working there was so awesome.  He wore an unassuming hat and a brightly colored tye-dye t-shirt, and had seen some years go by.  You would not assume that he knew much about rock music, but he did!  Most of the shirts he was selling featured rock artists - Hendrix, Santana, the Stones, Iron Maiden, Pantera, Deep Purple...tons of shirts.  And he had a story about each band!  I asked for his name, and he told me he had torn up his birth certificate - "No one bothers me now," he explained.  "I'm like that song by 'America,' a horse with no name."  He believed in karma, and was one of the most genuine people I'd ever met.  So I had to buy a shirt from him, of course.

The other best part of the trip happened outside another store.  Most of the tiendas there have what I liken to carnival "barkers," where someone outside the store invites you to go inside, what great things they have, see the bearded lady, etc.  So while Kevin and Ryane went inside one store, I stayed outside and had a nice conversation with the barker, a charming old lady with short gray hair and a warm smile.  But the best part was that we spoke in Spanish!  It's hard for me to use much Spanish in Albany, so I was grateful for the opportunity.  We just made small talk about the weather, where I was from, our little Dude...but I cherished every minute of it.  She also told me where we should go to eat lunch.  Bonus!

So all in all it was a good trip, but I really can't accurately use the word "vacation."  There's no such thing when you have a toddler.  We were thankful to get breaks here and there because the Dude has awesome grandparents, and he certainly had a great time. 
Ironically, now we're back, he's in day care, and I have no job to go to...so it's almost like I'm on vacation now.  Kooky.  Adios.

Well I must admit, nobody gave me any grief about discontinuing my monthly Dude updates once he reached age 2.  So either you are all great people and can cope with change, or you never gave two shits in the first place and didn't even noticed I had stopped.  Either way, I'm still unemployed, so who cares.

And with that, I do feel it's time for an update.  The biggest thing in the Dude's life now is his new day care.  As you may remember, his old one shut down last month.  Ever since we found out about it back in January, we had been so stressed out about him adjusting to a new facility, new friends, new teachers, etc.  What we did not anticipate is the insanity that would ensue during the two weeks between his old day care closing and his starting at the new one. 
We knew he thrived at school - the structure, the socialization...what we didn't know is how much he thrived on it.  Without it for two weeks, he became a raging monster at home (we would go out a lot, and he'd be fine, but back at home - yikes).  I think he set a personal record for "time-outs" in a week.  Not fun.  So needless to say, we were dying for this day to come, when he'd be back in his social, structured environment.

To get him ready for the change, 2 weeks ago we took him to the new school to meet his new teachers and see his new classroom, see his new playgrounds, and the swimming pools.  Last week we took him back again, and he sat in on "story time."  His lunch was provided at his old day care, but not this new one, so we bought him a firetruck lunchbox and gave it to him as a present last night, only fueling his excitement.  This morning he ran around the house saying "lunchbox!"  His mommy dropped him off this morning and reported back afterward - he was great.  He started playing with the toys in the room, showed his new teachers all the stuff we brought for him (diapers, extra clothes, his lunchbox, etc.), and barely noticed when mommy left.  She went to the gym and then came back to peek in on him - his class was in a gym themselves, and his teacher gave the thumbs-up.  He was playing and happy and we couldn't be more thrilled.  Life at home has been really tough these last 10 days or so, but I think having him back in school will make all the difference.

Other than that, his development continues at breakneck pace - he can carry on a conversation pretty well, without struggling for words or anything.  He has learned to say "gesundheit!" when someone sneezes, and then says "you're welcome" after the sneezer thanks him.  Most of you know he loved the Walking with Dinosaurs show, roaring at the dino-bots with glee.  We tried to let him stay up for fireworks on the 4th, but by 8:15 he was wiped out and there was no way he could stay up another hour to see them...there's always next year.

His cousin and family come to visit on Wednesday through the weekend, so he's been jumping around in anticipation for weeks.  And then we're going to CA on the 21st - my awesome grandma-in-law is taking the family on a 3-day cruise to Ensenada, plus we're staying with my folks for a few days prior, so we'll be gone a week.  The Dude is going to love the cruise ship - it has tons of stuff for kids, including a water slide and a whole day care center.  Plus grandma, in her infinite generosity, bought everyone a suite on the ship!  With a balcony!  Sweet...suite...sweet.

So that's about it for now...more updates to follow as necessary.  God bless.

In other words, 12.  rmstraus  and I celebrated our 12-year anniversary yesterday, she in Florida and me home with our marital offspring, the dog and the Dude.  Oh well, it's fine...we don't have the cash for a fancy celebration right now anyway, and it's not like the 12-year is a super special one, so we'll make up for it when I get gainful employment...eventually.
But I thought it would be interesting - to me - to look back and see how ridiculously different our lives have become in the last dozen years.  In the great span of time, 12 years is a nanosecond, a microscopic piece of lint poop on the smallest amoeba in a petri dish.  But it certainly allows for a wealth of change.
12 years ago we lived in Santa Barbara, CA.  12 years and 3000 miles later, here we are in Small-bany, NY. 
12 years ago I worked in the television production industry.  12 years later, I'm barely working. 
12 years ago rmstraus  worked for a floral delivery service.  12 years and one Ph.D later, she is a college professor. 
12 years ago we lived in a tiny one-bedroom apartment.  12 years later, we own a modest home. 
12 years ago we had to live vicariously through friends and families who had dogs, to satiate our own yearning for one.  12 years later, we have the best and most tolerant doggy ever. 
12 years ago, having a child was further from our minds than anything - going to church, protesting gay rights, joining the Republican party, committing ritual suicide, and shooting moose semen into our veins were things closer to our minds than having a child.  12 years later, well...I won't reiterate what I've posted about for the last two years.
12 years ago none of our close friends or similarly-aged family members were married or had children.  12 years later, almost everyone of them is married and has at least one child (or one on the way). 
12 years ago we didn't eat fish.  12 years later, we eat it once a week. 
Um...12 years ago I didn't have gray hairs...uh...I didn't wake up with odd pains in various parts of my body every now and then...um...12 years ago I didn't have to mow the lawn, and frankly I liked it that way...ok, running out of things here...oh, 12 years ago we were 24 years old.  So if my math is correct, that would now make us...36?!  Oh crap.  This is getting depressing.
Ok, let's end on a good note.  12 years ago I knew that I was marrying the greatest woman on the planet.  I also knew that 12 years later we'd still be married, as I know that we'll still be together in another 12 years, and another, and another, etc.  Happy anniversary, sweetie. 
Now get your ass home so I can sleep in!

Yes, it's the family fun favorite for everyone - my recent movie grades. As always, assenting and dissenting opinions are welcomed, with owners of the latter knowing that they are wrong. Enjoy.

Slumdog Millionaire - A
Charlie Wilson's War - A-
Traitor - B
Frost/Nixon - A
Star Trek - A- (saw it in the theater! 1st theater movie for me in 18 months!  The last one was the next movie on the list.)
The Simpsons Movie - B+ (I felt I had to see it again, and I think I liked it more than the first time.)
Choke - B+
The Spirit - C-
Miracle at St. Anna - B
Frozen River - A-
The Wrestler - A-
Gonzo - B+ (about Hunter S. Thompson, not the Muppet)
Changeling - B+
Vicky Cristina Barcelona - B+
Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian - C+
Wanted - B-
Milk - A+
The Visitor - B+
Hamlet 2 - C-
Max Payne - B-
Pineapple Express - C-
Religulous - B+
Body of Lies - C
WALL-E - B+
Burn After Reading - C+
National Treasure: Book of Secrets - C
The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor - B-
Tropic Thunder - C
Hellboy II: The Golden Army - B
Hancock - B-
The Dark Knight - B+
Get Smart - C-
The Reading Room - D

Hey, two posts in a row, who'd-a thunk it? Anyway, as many of you know I have been a constant complainer about the driving abilities of the people in the Capital Region of New York. Since moving here almost 4 years ago, I have maintained that the drivers here must be the worst in the country. Well guess what?

http://gothamist.com/2009/05/20/survey_finds_ny_state_has_worst_dri.php

Congratulations will be accepted in the form of comments on this post. Thank you.

Yes, three updates, I think. We'll see how it goes.
First, my employment situation...here's where I stand: on my two feet. Hahaha. But seriously - I am still doing the part-time marketing assistance for a realtor. It's ok - some days are fun, I get to use my creativity for something useful...other days are somewhat boring and dull.
The business development for the media company is really not going anywhere, and I don't think I'll be doing it much longer. I only have one potential client so far, and I just don't feel like I have the drive to do that kind of work...it's almost like "cold-calling" and that 'aint for me. But I had to give it a shot.
In the pipeline: oil. Again, hahaha. But seriously - I had an interview on Monday for an admin gig at a big accounting firm. Normally I wouldn't have bothered applying, but they pay quite well for an admin position, and I know a few people at the company and they all say it's a great place to work. Here's the weird part about my interview: she didn't ask me any questions. Yeah, I know. All she asked was for me to tell her about myself, and what my duties were at my last job. She spent the rest of the time describing the job, the company, and giving me a tour of the place. So either it was just a screening interview, or they plan on offering me the job. It was odd.
I also have an interview on Friday at the New York State Coalition Against Domestic Violence for an Executive Program Assistant. I'll tell them I have an offer from the Coalition FOR Domestic Violence and see what they say. Bad idea? Ok. They don't pay as well as the admin job, but the work should be more interesting. We'll see.
It looks like I'm still in the running for the Executive Secretary job at SUNY Cobleskill, an A&T school about 30 miles from Albany. It would be a commute (an Upstate NY commute anyway) but I know people who work there and they say it's really cool. And they pay well and have great benefits. So again, we'll see. Job searching is so much fun! Yeah! No.
But the most exciting news is that I am going to have my first PAID photo shoot! A woman I know has her own pie company, she's doing very well, and wants new photos of her products for her website and for ads...and she asked me to take the shots! Woohoo! So next Wednesday I will be able to say I am a professional photographer. And maybe I'll get a free pie too.
Ok, perhaps the most exciting news is actually this - the Dude is going poopy and pee pee on the potty! In adult-speak, he is urinating and emptying his bowels in the proper receptacle. He's not at the point where he's telling us he has to go and then uses the toilet, but we have been putting him on the seat and then he'll go! He's getting dinosaur stickers as a reward each time. Very cool. We can't wait to free up the money in the diaper budget for other things.
Ok, that's enough. Thanks for reading. Coming soon - a new Internet Flicker Shows post. Yes, Christmas is coming early, I know...you lucky devils. Bye.

It's been 25 days since my last blog post, which I think is a new record for me. Not that I've been any kind of prolific blogger, but I think 3 weeks was my old record for not posting. To what do I attribute this drought of online expression, you may (but probably don't) ask? Well I think it has to do with a little website that starts with an F, ends with a K, and in the middle is "aceboo."
Facebook has become a very regular thing for me, and anytime I am inspired to impart any personal updates or interesting tidbits, whereas I would previously post them right here, I now find myself going to Facebook instead. And after a few months of this, I have come to a conclusion: Facebook is totally lame.
It is self-indulgent, self-important garbage. I realize that saying this (and everything else that follows) is condemning my own actions, but like alcoholics, the first step is admitting you have a problem.
At first I did recognize that Facebook has some value - I was able to touch base with 15 of my 6th grade classmates, including our teacher. We all agree that our class was quite special, and we all remember it fondly. So using Facebook to say hi to all those people was really neat.
However, the honeymoon is over, and now the only use I see for the site is so that people you know can tell you what they just did, felt, experienced, etc.
"I'm going shopping." "I just watched the ball game." "I ate a cookie."
Have we become so bored as a society that this is how we need to fill our time?
Exhibit B: the fairly new "Pick Your Five" survey on Facebook. You pick your five favorite movies, concerts, beers, animals, vacation spots, candies...anything. Then all your friends can be made aware that you love the movie "Flubber." Great.
Exhibit C: the quizzes. "What fantasy creature are you?" "What Beatles song are you?" "What city should you live in?" More pointless information that is decided by a paragraph of code, all to let your friends know what flavor of bubble gum best defines you.
Let me reiterate that I am completely guilty in participating in these activities - I even created my own "Pick Your Five" survey (although I would like to point out that mine was semi-intellectual, in that it asked for your top 5 favorite words in the English language. Not surprisingly, no one else took my survey. It's much less brain-consuming to pick your top 5 childhood cartoons).
So am I going to stop Facebooking? Probably not. In fact, I have my blog set up so that whenever I post, it makes a note in Facebook for all my friends to see. I guess it's a good way for me to stay in touch with those people that I don't see in person very often. But it's almost like a gory car accident - I don't want to look, but I cannot turn away.
I would also like to point out my lack of irony when I said earlier that Facebook was self-indulgent, self-important garbage. Because this post is exactly that (maybe without the garbage part). But again, recognizing the problem is the first step toward overcoming it. Feel free to point out my hypocrisy and deconstruct my arguments until there's nothing left but viscous cranial goo - I won't be offended.
And with that being said, see you on Facebook soon.

Well, this is it. And by “it” I mean this is the last regular monthly post about the Dude. He is the big 2 today, hard to believe as it is. But I don’t see the point in posting at regular intervals anymore – I will update when it is warranted, but he’s basically developing like any normal toddler (as normal as my offspring can be). And so today’s post will be a reflection on my two years as a father.
Two years ago, life changed so drastically and well more than I could have ever imagined. We thought the infant stage was rough – getting up every two hours, doing laundry on a seemingly hourly basis, dodging powerful urine streams aimed at my face, hoping that my wife’s breasts weren’t horribly mangled during feedings, and cleaning up various forms of bodily excretions all the time.
And then after a year, the infant stage seemed easy. Then came the mobility, the independent desires, the struggle with meals, and the frustration over not being able to communicate.
Then suddenly at 18 months, pure joy. That’s not to say that the first 17 months did not have their joyous moments – far from it. I loved singing him to sleep (now he tells me “no singing, daddy”), I loved that we could go out to eat without incident, I loved being able to walk him in the stroller without complaint, I loved watching each new discovery he made, learning to crawl, learning to walk, learning to be nice to his doggy…but at 18 months, he seemed to advance from baby to little boy. His vocabulary exploded (as is normal at that age), and he really was amazing and fun to just hang out with.
Months 19 through 23, however, seemed to be steamrolling toward that dreaded and mystical stage known as the “terrible two’s.” But again, that’s not to say that during the past 4 months he hasn’t been great…just not as much as at 18 months.
And now here we are at 2 years – and thank god I can finally stop referring to his age in months! Here’s the last development update: he knows his colors and his shapes, he is using casual expressions like “Nah,” (instead of “no”) and “Sure!” and “I love it!” His palate is coming around – last week he ate Singapore-style curried noodles, and he wolfed down some chicken sausage with garlic and onions. He has a fascination with bridges and airplanes, and loves the library. But most amazingly to us (and I don’t know if this is normal or not – we’re going with not), he can count to 20 almost perfectly. He likes to skip 12 for some reason, and he sometimes mixes up the order between 13 and 19, but we think he’s a genius. Not that we’re biased.
So after 2 years I can honestly say that all the crying, pooping, sleeplessness, laundry, crying, lack-of-social-life, illness, and crying has been 100% WORTH IT.
I love my boy with all my heart and soul. He amazes me every moment of every day. He makes me laugh more than I ever thought a toddler could. Being able to have a conversation with him is more exciting and far more interesting than most of the conversations I have with other people. And nothing makes my heart soar more highly than getting an unsolicited hug from him, or hearing him scream ecstatically “Daddy daddy daddy!” when I pick him up at daycare.
I remember thinking shortly after he was born about how my priorities changed, that the only thing I cared about anymore was that my son was happy, no matter what. After 2 years, that feeling hasn’t waivered one bit. I feel awful when he feels awful, and I am truly the happiest guy in the world when he is happy. I know one day he will read all this crap and be embarrassed beyond reproach…at least until he has a child of his own…if he chooses to do so…no pressure, leave him alone, jeez!
So, happy #2 little buddy, dude, etc. If you keep this up, you’ll make us give you a sibling soon. Yikes.

It seems that no matter how rooted an institution is these days, and how insulated it would be against a recession, no one is safe.
Apparently the Postmaster General told Congress yesterday that the USPS is going to run out of money this year, unless they get some extra government funding.
Really. REALLY? The postal service is running out of money? Forgive my ignorance, but WHA???? Come on. How is this possible? Are people not mailing things anymore? Really? Does that mean FedEx and UPS are experiencing record increases in business?
And isn't the USPS's normal solution to financial woes to just raise the price of a stamp by 4 or 6 cents?
The PG proposed reducing mail delivery service to 5 days a week to help save millions of dollars. Fine, I don't think people will miss their Saturday mail too much, but I can't believe this is necessary.
So what am I missing here? Anyone?

Every time I start to seriously doubt that there's any good left in the world, something like this comes along:

BANGKOK (AFP) – A Thai fireman turned superhero when he dressed up as comic-book character Spider-Man to coax a frightened eight-year-old from a balcony, police said Tuesday.
Teachers at a special needs school in Bangkok alerted authorities on Monday when an autistic pupil, scared of attending his first day at school, sat out on the third-floor ledge and refused to come inside, a police sergeant told AFP.
Despite teachers' efforts to beckon the boy inside, he refused to budge until his mother mentioned her son's love of superheroes, prompting fireman Sonchai Yoosabai to take a novel approach to the problem.
The rescuer dashed back to his fire station and made a quick change into a Spider-Man costume before returning to the boy, he said.
"I told him Spider-Man is here to rescue you, no monsters are going to attack you and I told him to walk slowly towards me as running could be dangerous," Somchai told local television.
The young boy immediately stood up and walked into his rescuer's arms, police said.
Somchai said he keeps the Spider-Man costume and an outfit of Japanese television character Ultraman at the station in order to liven up school fire drills.

Now if only there were a Financial Rescue Man....