I think I've had a better opinion of the Governor than most, but with his recent comments — attributing poor reaction to his public performance and his lack of support among fellow Democrats as "an orchestrated, racially biased effort by the media to force him to step aside" — I think accusations like that are usually a better indicator of exasperation and frustration than qualities important for leadership, in bad times or good.
This week, he claims he's been misunderstood, which might have been possible if he hadn't made his comments in a radio interview.
26 August 2009
25 August 2009
Comfortable
Have I mentioned the family of raccoons who visit the backyard here most nights? There are five of them, all born during the past several months. We used to see them trailing along after their mother, but there's been no sight of her for weeks. (It may not be all that unusual for the young raccoons to be on their own at this age, but I wonder if she wasn't injured or killed.) So as is often the case, I worry a bit, and I feel obligated. I've been leaving a small amount of dry cat food for them out back on the deck most nights.
For better or worse, they seem to have become increasingly accustomed to me. Last night, they happened to be under the deck waiting, and as soon as I stepped foot outside, three of the five spilled out from under the deck and came to see what I had. Two scurried about my feet, while another stood up on hind legs trying to get at the bag of cat food.
After eating, they often climb into the small fountain to drink (and cool off), relax and groom themselves on the chair cushions, and chase each other around the deck. (All but the smallest, who doesn't seem to appreciate being pounced on somewhat larger siblings, even in good fun.) In about an hour they're off on another adventure, and all is quiet.
At times I wonder if this is a good thing, to allow them to become so comfortable with me. But we've been watching raccoons since just about the day (or rather the night) we moved in — they're invariably curious, and that curiosity often extends to humans, as well, if you don't frighten them off. And raccoons are one of the few animals able to acclimate themselves to life in the wild after living as pets — although I'm giving them food, these raccoons are far, far from domesticated.
For better or worse, they seem to have become increasingly accustomed to me. Last night, they happened to be under the deck waiting, and as soon as I stepped foot outside, three of the five spilled out from under the deck and came to see what I had. Two scurried about my feet, while another stood up on hind legs trying to get at the bag of cat food.
After eating, they often climb into the small fountain to drink (and cool off), relax and groom themselves on the chair cushions, and chase each other around the deck. (All but the smallest, who doesn't seem to appreciate being pounced on somewhat larger siblings, even in good fun.) In about an hour they're off on another adventure, and all is quiet.
At times I wonder if this is a good thing, to allow them to become so comfortable with me. But we've been watching raccoons since just about the day (or rather the night) we moved in — they're invariably curious, and that curiosity often extends to humans, as well, if you don't frighten them off. And raccoons are one of the few animals able to acclimate themselves to life in the wild after living as pets — although I'm giving them food, these raccoons are far, far from domesticated.
22 August 2009
Compassion
I must confess, I honestly do not understand the objection to allowing a terminally ill prisoner — no matter how great his crime — the opportunity to return home for his final days. I know some people have a great difficulty with the idea of "forgiveness" (and I have no place speaking for anyone who has suffered such a terrible loss), but this isn't even about forgiving — this is simply a matter of compassion. Making this a stronger and more loving world, even in the face of horror and destruction.
20 August 2009
Les Paul
I first discovered the music of Les Paul in, of all places, an episode of Happy Days. (It was one of those early episodes, without a laugh track — they're really quite good, nothing like what the series would become. As a general rule, if The Fonz isn't seen so much and isn't wearing a leather jacket, you're probably safe.) A brief bit of "How High The Moon" was played over the opening scenes. I've no idea how I got from that to actually buying a Les Paul cassette (how did I even know who the artist was? This was the mid-1980s, long before that kind of information was rarely further than a few keystrokes away), but I got there, somehow.
It was many years later that I learned of the significance of his work, that he had pioneered the multi-track recording techniques that made his records sound unlike anything else in the 1950s. It was only recently that I learned how he did this, without the benefit of separate recording tracks and mixing boards, by backing up the tape and recording each separate pass of vocals and guitars over the previous ones, each in a single take. (That was all the chance there was.) That certainly explains the precision in those recordings, which is an aspect I've always enjoyed. (I think it appeals to my sense of order.)
If you've ever heard his records, you know he had a sort of excited (for lack of a better word) style of guitar playing, but incredibly precise, and all his own. And the vocals, provided by Mary Ford (to whom he was married at the height of his fame), have a richness and depth, a quality accentuated by her singing harmony with herself.
It's great stuff. I always admire someone who finds a way to create something so distinctive, so different.
It was many years later that I learned of the significance of his work, that he had pioneered the multi-track recording techniques that made his records sound unlike anything else in the 1950s. It was only recently that I learned how he did this, without the benefit of separate recording tracks and mixing boards, by backing up the tape and recording each separate pass of vocals and guitars over the previous ones, each in a single take. (That was all the chance there was.) That certainly explains the precision in those recordings, which is an aspect I've always enjoyed. (I think it appeals to my sense of order.)
If you've ever heard his records, you know he had a sort of excited (for lack of a better word) style of guitar playing, but incredibly precise, and all his own. And the vocals, provided by Mary Ford (to whom he was married at the height of his fame), have a richness and depth, a quality accentuated by her singing harmony with herself.
It's great stuff. I always admire someone who finds a way to create something so distinctive, so different.
19 August 2009
Blocked
If you find you can't read this, there are very good reasons why (and I'd much rather you didn't).
Goodbyes
I don't think I really know how to say goodbye. I've been thinking about that over the past few days and weeks. At times, I think it's best to quietly disappear (and I often do), leaving behind the wake of pleasant and warm memories, rather than making some sort of misguided attempt to be sure that this is the case.
But I never want to leave hard feelings, and certainly no misunderstandings. So I struggle to find the words I want, and put off saying them — and often by the time they come to me I've quietly disappeared, after all.
But I never want to leave hard feelings, and certainly no misunderstandings. So I struggle to find the words I want, and put off saying them — and often by the time they come to me I've quietly disappeared, after all.
18 August 2009
Noggin
Even though we've long since moved on from watching, I'm still kind of disappointed at the news (which I somehow completely missed when it was announced in February) that Noggin will be rebranding itself as "Nick Jr." in September.
We came in just as Children's Television Workshop was leaving (and missed the days of Sesame Street and Electric Company reruns), but Noggin would become a fixture in our home for many years. Not because my son watched too much TV (at least, not entirely so), but because I enjoyed so much of what Noggin had to offer. It was all very lively and imaginative, at a time when PBS's kids programming had become (with rare exception) increasingly dominated by series that just seemed more earnest than fun.
I was even getting into watching Blue's Clues toward the end. (Joe has always struck me as too much of a blank slate, likable but not especially deep. I'm much more fond of Steve.)
Then one day, a few months ago, my son announced that he was too old for Noggin. I'm not sure where he got this idea (it couldn't have been from his 44-year-old Father, who enjoyed it just as much as he did), but we haven't seen much of it since.
The identity the channel had built for itself was quietly charming, very much the opposite of what Nickelodeon has come to represent through the years. I'm sort of sad to see Noggin become another cog in corporate machinery — though I suppose I'd only be fooling myself to think it was ever anything else.
We came in just as Children's Television Workshop was leaving (and missed the days of Sesame Street and Electric Company reruns), but Noggin would become a fixture in our home for many years. Not because my son watched too much TV (at least, not entirely so), but because I enjoyed so much of what Noggin had to offer. It was all very lively and imaginative, at a time when PBS's kids programming had become (with rare exception) increasingly dominated by series that just seemed more earnest than fun.
I was even getting into watching Blue's Clues toward the end. (Joe has always struck me as too much of a blank slate, likable but not especially deep. I'm much more fond of Steve.)
Then one day, a few months ago, my son announced that he was too old for Noggin. I'm not sure where he got this idea (it couldn't have been from his 44-year-old Father, who enjoyed it just as much as he did), but we haven't seen much of it since.
The identity the channel had built for itself was quietly charming, very much the opposite of what Nickelodeon has come to represent through the years. I'm sort of sad to see Noggin become another cog in corporate machinery — though I suppose I'd only be fooling myself to think it was ever anything else.
17 August 2009
Faeries
My seven-year-old, who has just lost his second tooth, thought he had a typically brilliant plan to be able to see the Tooth Fairy in action — he would sleep on the floor of his room, so she would be inclined to pick him up and put him back into bed, which would wake him up with enough time to catch a passing glimpse.
(He was talked out if trying, but I'm sure he'll come up with something even better next time.)
(He was talked out if trying, but I'm sure he'll come up with something even better next time.)
14 August 2009
Missing
What would you think if you happened to notice that the name of a woman from the next town over who was the focus of a well-publicized missing persons case just over a year ago, later the victim in a murder investigation (she was supposedly killed by her husband, though the remains have never been found) suddenly turned up as the name of a wireless network in your neighborhood?
Not Quite
I might have spoken too soon. I feel better, yes, and I'm a good deal more mobile — but I'm still not quite there yet. Ugh. (No, wait — "Ugh" is too much. A sort of resigned "Sigh" would probably suit this situation better.)
12 August 2009
Blueprint
I really have no idea what this is supposed to be (but at least my son has provided detailed directions for how to build it).
05 August 2009
Better
The strength is slowly returning to my lower back, which is most welcome. I've had quite enough of not being able to do, well, most anything.
Of course, the house looks like it hasn't been cleaned in two weeks (even though I've only been out of sorts for a few days) so I have that to look forward to. Ugh.
Of course, the house looks like it hasn't been cleaned in two weeks (even though I've only been out of sorts for a few days) so I have that to look forward to. Ugh.
03 August 2009
Back
Ages ago, when I was in college, I had a good friend who used to suffer from terrible menstrual cramps. I think she used to take Motrin (which was still relatively new at that time), which I had thought was a muscle relaxant. Years later, though, it seems to be nothing more than the same Ibuprofen found in virtually every other over-the-counter pain reliever.
I helped an old friend move, a few years ago. He is an avid reader and an accumulator of stuff — and had lived in the same apartment for ten or fifteen years. What was supposed to have taken a day took three, and as a result, I sprained my back. (That's much more serious than it sounds!) Ever since, every so often, it comes back to bother me, usually after I've done something thoughtless to provoke it. Yesterday, it was helping to carry a new mattress up the stairs.
It isn't so much the pain or discomfort that bothers me, just that when these episodes occur, I have almost no strength in my lower back. I can still get around, slowly but surely — I shuffle around sort of comically for awhile, then with a bit more energy once my back muscles loosen up — but if I sit down, getting back up becomes a complex process of shifting my weight and finding a way to lever myself to a standing position, or at least something I can pull myself up by.
It inevitably goes away in a few days — but it's not much fun until then. Ugh.
I helped an old friend move, a few years ago. He is an avid reader and an accumulator of stuff — and had lived in the same apartment for ten or fifteen years. What was supposed to have taken a day took three, and as a result, I sprained my back. (That's much more serious than it sounds!) Ever since, every so often, it comes back to bother me, usually after I've done something thoughtless to provoke it. Yesterday, it was helping to carry a new mattress up the stairs.
It isn't so much the pain or discomfort that bothers me, just that when these episodes occur, I have almost no strength in my lower back. I can still get around, slowly but surely — I shuffle around sort of comically for awhile, then with a bit more energy once my back muscles loosen up — but if I sit down, getting back up becomes a complex process of shifting my weight and finding a way to lever myself to a standing position, or at least something I can pull myself up by.
It inevitably goes away in a few days — but it's not much fun until then. Ugh.
02 August 2009
Myrna Loy
I've been trying to watch The Rains Came, but I've become bored with it. And Myrna Loy seems to be in this sort of awkward phase between young and vivacious (in The Thin Man series) and more mature and beautiful (as she was in, say, The Best Years of Our Lives). Or maybe that's just that the character she's playing, cold and distant.
01 August 2009
Seven
Today was my son's birthday. He's just turned seven.
In many ways, his being a six-year-old was the longest year of his life, for me. That could be because I was more emotionally "here" than I have been in recent years (that's a digression for another day), or perhaps because this was the year he became more self-contained, more of a separate and distinct individual, following his own chosen path. (I prefer the latter explanation.) Whatever it was, it feels like he's been six-years-old forever. I'm sure it's going to be a few weeks before I stop reflexively typing "my six-year-old."
(The Wild Raspberry Ice Cream was lovely, by the way. When you first taste it, it seems more vanilla than anything — but when your tongue finds a bit of raspberry it all sort of explodes in flavor. I've used the rest of the raspberries to make more this evening.)
In many ways, his being a six-year-old was the longest year of his life, for me. That could be because I was more emotionally "here" than I have been in recent years (that's a digression for another day), or perhaps because this was the year he became more self-contained, more of a separate and distinct individual, following his own chosen path. (I prefer the latter explanation.) Whatever it was, it feels like he's been six-years-old forever. I'm sure it's going to be a few weeks before I stop reflexively typing "my six-year-old."
(The Wild Raspberry Ice Cream was lovely, by the way. When you first taste it, it seems more vanilla than anything — but when your tongue finds a bit of raspberry it all sort of explodes in flavor. I've used the rest of the raspberries to make more this evening.)
AOL
I read this week that Google, which had bought a 5% stake in AOL in late 2005 for about $1 Billion, recently sold it back to Time Warner for a mere $283 million (or about 28% of what they paid for it).
I was working for a division of Time Warner when AOL bought the company, about ten years ago. I think most of us were largely indifferent to the transaction (and I doubt any of us could foresee that AOL would so quickly become unnecessary). But we did receive free AOL accounts. I don't think I ever used mine. (Back in the day, anyone who knew better wouldn't be caught out with an AOL email address.) It wasn't long, though, before there were reasons to be resentful.
First among them was this ill-conceived (and thankfully short-lived) idea that we should all be using AOL for out inter-office e-mail. (I imagine AOL had an idea that they could offer this as a service to the corporate world, and forcing their own employees to use it was the way to smooth out the rough edges.) For security reasons, we would all be provided with an electronic device (it was commonly referred to as a "key fob") which would generate an ever-changing sequence of numbers, a code we'd need to be able to login to our accounts. (I found an article about all this here.) You know, I honestly don't remember if we ever did use them.
And not only was using AOL slow and cumbersome, it was also ad-supported ― which meant that every time we accessed our e-mail we'd have to see paid advertising. I complained bitterly about that.
In fact, I remember being so resentful at having to use AOL that I installed an alternative program, Claris Emailer, which could access AOL's mail service. This was the sort of stuff that irritated the IT Department no end (one of a long, long list of transgressions I was responsible for through the years), but I was not going to give in without a fight.
In all, I don't think this endeavor lasted more than a few weeks before everything returned to the way it was. (It would be the first of many, many failures in the AOL Time Warner merger.)
I was working for a division of Time Warner when AOL bought the company, about ten years ago. I think most of us were largely indifferent to the transaction (and I doubt any of us could foresee that AOL would so quickly become unnecessary). But we did receive free AOL accounts. I don't think I ever used mine. (Back in the day, anyone who knew better wouldn't be caught out with an AOL email address.) It wasn't long, though, before there were reasons to be resentful.
First among them was this ill-conceived (and thankfully short-lived) idea that we should all be using AOL for out inter-office e-mail. (I imagine AOL had an idea that they could offer this as a service to the corporate world, and forcing their own employees to use it was the way to smooth out the rough edges.) For security reasons, we would all be provided with an electronic device (it was commonly referred to as a "key fob") which would generate an ever-changing sequence of numbers, a code we'd need to be able to login to our accounts. (I found an article about all this here.) You know, I honestly don't remember if we ever did use them.
And not only was using AOL slow and cumbersome, it was also ad-supported ― which meant that every time we accessed our e-mail we'd have to see paid advertising. I complained bitterly about that.
In fact, I remember being so resentful at having to use AOL that I installed an alternative program, Claris Emailer, which could access AOL's mail service. This was the sort of stuff that irritated the IT Department no end (one of a long, long list of transgressions I was responsible for through the years), but I was not going to give in without a fight.
In all, I don't think this endeavor lasted more than a few weeks before everything returned to the way it was. (It would be the first of many, many failures in the AOL Time Warner merger.)