As I go to bed tonight, I'm being told that there's a very good chance we'll have a few inches of snow tomorrow. I've already planned to be home for the day, as I'm one of those idiotic Oregon drivers who doesn't have the foggiest idea how to drive in ice and snow. (Nevermind that I spent more than half of my childhood in New England - I learned to drive in Oregon, and that's all it takes.) I'd prefer to not be a hazard to myself or anyone else, thankyouverymuch.
(Chris & I were downtown earlier tonight, and if I didn't currently have two cats asleep on my lap I'd be able to reach the camera and upload some pictures for you right now. But the fur-people are purring and happy, so the pictures will have to wait. I'm sure you understand.)
30 November 2005
29 November 2005
Deconstruction/Reconstruction
The deck deconstruction is going swimmingly... Three (nearly) down, five to go. Here are a couple shots I took this morning as the crew was just arriving.
In the second picture, you can still see a deck at the far end of the building. The second building from the bottom is nearly deck-less, and the upper building is completely deck-less.
And I also want to mention that Ken Foster has said the magic words, as far as I'm concerned - they're re-opening Preservation Hall in New Orleans. (Even if it's only for a night, it's a good sign.)
In the second picture, you can still see a deck at the far end of the building. The second building from the bottom is nearly deck-less, and the upper building is completely deck-less.
And I also want to mention that Ken Foster has said the magic words, as far as I'm concerned - they're re-opening Preservation Hall in New Orleans. (Even if it's only for a night, it's a good sign.)
28 November 2005
Catching Up
Okay, folks - hunker down and get comfy. I've been saving many a-blog posting to comment on, and just haven't had the time. So here they are, in one catch-all post. Because, despite what you've heard, I don't think it's always all about me. (Often, to be sure, but not always.)
- One of the Food Dude's contributors has an interesting take on bad restaurant service. My reason for flagging this post, however, is the phoenetic spelling of the rude waiter's French accent. Good stuff.
- ExtraMSG posted this tidbit about Astoria making its way into the New York Times.
- Record Store Geek brought this gem to my attention - a website that will sing for you. And who doesn't need that?
- I haven't even read the rest of the "tricks to teach your body" that William Bragg refers to, but the one he's highlighted is worth a giggle all on its own.
- The folks at Damn Interesting are full of, well, damn interesting stuff. Among them - memory research at the University of Oregon, a story that's not for the arachnophobic, and this bit that defies synopsizing.
- James Tata beats me to the punch on this New York Times article on the Pantheon. It's a building I loved beyond explanation. The only reason I could ever come up with was the feeling that so many feet had walked on the very stones I was walking. In too many places (for understandable reasons, of course) the actual historic sites are roped off and beyond reach. At the Pantheon, you're free to walk on the beautiful marble floor - just as people did when it was built. That kind of stuff sends chills up my spine, seriously.
27 November 2005
A Thanksgiving In Pictures
We're back home again from my mother's house in the woods, and I once again have access to a high-speed connection. That dial-up thing my mother uses is frustratingly slow (wow, did we all use that at one point?), though frankly with her remote location I'm not sure she's got much of a choice yet.
At any rate, here are a few pictures from our Thanksgiving festivities yesterday:
A few family friends (the family we've always spent holidays with, sometimes referred to as our "chosen family") chatting in my mother's "great room" before dinner. Mom built the great room as an addition last year, and this was our second Thanksgiving in it. She's not kidding when she tells you this holiday is pretty much why she built the addition at all. That and the new deck outside is a perfect stage for her marimba band.
A panoramic view of the holiday tables
And, perhaps my favorite picture of the weekend, my plate (before I added a drizzle of gravy over basically everything) - the food was fabulous, and I'm almost hungry again just looking at this picture. I've made this shot the wallpaper on my laptop, which I'm sure to change when I realize how much I'm drooling on the keyboard...
At any rate, here are a few pictures from our Thanksgiving festivities yesterday:
A few family friends (the family we've always spent holidays with, sometimes referred to as our "chosen family") chatting in my mother's "great room" before dinner. Mom built the great room as an addition last year, and this was our second Thanksgiving in it. She's not kidding when she tells you this holiday is pretty much why she built the addition at all. That and the new deck outside is a perfect stage for her marimba band.
A panoramic view of the holiday tables
And, perhaps my favorite picture of the weekend, my plate (before I added a drizzle of gravy over basically everything) - the food was fabulous, and I'm almost hungry again just looking at this picture. I've made this shot the wallpaper on my laptop, which I'm sure to change when I realize how much I'm drooling on the keyboard...
25 November 2005
The Best Laid Plans
Chris planned to make pizza tonight at my mother's house, so she wouldn't have to deal with cooking tonight (since our Thanksgiving is tomorrow). Then the power went out. There wasn't a storm out here, just lots of rain. But if the power lines in Oregon can't deal with a little rain, that's a problem.
Anyway, 2+ hours into the blackout we realized it wasn't coming back on in time for us to eat. So, we drove the 40+ minutes into town to eat - what else? - pizza.
Anyway, 2+ hours into the blackout we realized it wasn't coming back on in time for us to eat. So, we drove the 40+ minutes into town to eat - what else? - pizza.
24 November 2005
Hitchhiker's Guide to Thanksgiving
We're celebrating Thanksgiving on Saturday at my mother's house, so today was just a bonus day off. Chris rode his bike (and froze - it was sooo cold this morning), and we did some chores. Then we settled in to watch "The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy," which we'd been wanting to see since it came out. We don't agree on the review, but since I'm the one writing right now you'll be getting my opinion.
It's a fabulous movie.
Really, it is. I read the first three books in the five-part "trilogy" many, many years ago, and haven't read them recently - I was amazed, then, at how much of the books came back to me as I watched the movie. It's clever and witty, and the visuals are great. It made me want to read the books again - which is much easier since I bought the entire "trilogy" (in one book - it's huge). I can't wait...
Oh, and we also decided to look up the author, Douglas Adams, on Wikipedia. It's a lengthy and informative entry, and makes me also want to check out his other work. I just love the idea that there are people in the world whose minds work that way. I'd love to surround myself with them and just listen to them talk.
It's a fabulous movie.
Really, it is. I read the first three books in the five-part "trilogy" many, many years ago, and haven't read them recently - I was amazed, then, at how much of the books came back to me as I watched the movie. It's clever and witty, and the visuals are great. It made me want to read the books again - which is much easier since I bought the entire "trilogy" (in one book - it's huge). I can't wait...
Oh, and we also decided to look up the author, Douglas Adams, on Wikipedia. It's a lengthy and informative entry, and makes me also want to check out his other work. I just love the idea that there are people in the world whose minds work that way. I'd love to surround myself with them and just listen to them talk.
23 November 2005
Family History
Here are the final (and not fantastic) pictures from our weekend in California. First of all, a picture of me with my great-aunt Fritzi (whose 95th birthday is this Friday):
We haven't always had the best relationship - I wasn't usually able to live up to her high expectations - but she's softened measurably in recent years. It wasn't an easy visit, as she's hard of hearing and her heavy German accent combined with stroke-induced speech impediments made conversations difficult. Still, I'm glad we visited her. Her mind is still sharp as a tack, and she told us stories of her youth (until this visit, I either didn't know or had forgotten she was born in Poland). Some of her earliest memories are of fleeing with her family from Poland to Bucharest and finally to Austria because of World War I. Many years later, she was one of the members of my extended family fleeing from Germany during the early years before World War II. And despite this storied life, she doesn't think anyone would be interested if she wrote a book... We tried to convince her that her family would be interested, but I'm not sure how effective we were. I suppose we'll see.
Fritzi's son Joe lives near her, and we visited with him as well. He told us one story about his mother that, despite his own difficult relationship with her, had him choked up as he told it. Apparently, when Fritzi was pregnant with Joe in Germany, she was desperate to not give birth in Germany. She had arranged to go to Strasbourg in France for the last month or so of her pregnancy and give birth there. Her driver - a member of the Nazi party, as were most Germans at the time - was very kind to her and was driving her to Strasbourg. She began to feel unwell, and he began to look for a town in which to rest. Every town, however, had a sign up that said, No Dogs or Jews Allowed and so they had to keep driving.
I sincerely hope Fritzi's stories aren't lost, whether she writes them down herself or passes them along to people like Joe and other family members. Whether or not they'd ever be interesting to a larger audience, I can't help but believe there are plenty of members of the family who would love to hear them. And, frankly, though I know my nearly 7-year-old nephew couldn't care less right now, I think it's only right that he have the opportunity to hear his family's history later in his life when he might be curious.
Shifting gears completely, we were a little surprised to find that the previous occupants of our hotel room had apparently had irons for feet. Either that or the iron-footed monster had just passed through:
Okay, so there wasn't an ironing board in the room, and someone had clearly been a little careless with the iron. Still, I like the iron-footed monster story better.
We haven't always had the best relationship - I wasn't usually able to live up to her high expectations - but she's softened measurably in recent years. It wasn't an easy visit, as she's hard of hearing and her heavy German accent combined with stroke-induced speech impediments made conversations difficult. Still, I'm glad we visited her. Her mind is still sharp as a tack, and she told us stories of her youth (until this visit, I either didn't know or had forgotten she was born in Poland). Some of her earliest memories are of fleeing with her family from Poland to Bucharest and finally to Austria because of World War I. Many years later, she was one of the members of my extended family fleeing from Germany during the early years before World War II. And despite this storied life, she doesn't think anyone would be interested if she wrote a book... We tried to convince her that her family would be interested, but I'm not sure how effective we were. I suppose we'll see.
Fritzi's son Joe lives near her, and we visited with him as well. He told us one story about his mother that, despite his own difficult relationship with her, had him choked up as he told it. Apparently, when Fritzi was pregnant with Joe in Germany, she was desperate to not give birth in Germany. She had arranged to go to Strasbourg in France for the last month or so of her pregnancy and give birth there. Her driver - a member of the Nazi party, as were most Germans at the time - was very kind to her and was driving her to Strasbourg. She began to feel unwell, and he began to look for a town in which to rest. Every town, however, had a sign up that said, No Dogs or Jews Allowed and so they had to keep driving.
I sincerely hope Fritzi's stories aren't lost, whether she writes them down herself or passes them along to people like Joe and other family members. Whether or not they'd ever be interesting to a larger audience, I can't help but believe there are plenty of members of the family who would love to hear them. And, frankly, though I know my nearly 7-year-old nephew couldn't care less right now, I think it's only right that he have the opportunity to hear his family's history later in his life when he might be curious.
Shifting gears completely, we were a little surprised to find that the previous occupants of our hotel room had apparently had irons for feet. Either that or the iron-footed monster had just passed through:
Okay, so there wasn't an ironing board in the room, and someone had clearly been a little careless with the iron. Still, I like the iron-footed monster story better.
22 November 2005
Getty Center
Between visits with relatives on Saturday, we went up to The Getty Center - we only had about an hour and a half, so we didn't really go inside any of the indoor exhibits. We just stuck to the gardens, and even limiting ourselves to that I felt rushed.
(L) The little girl in the picture was so cute - she kept running up and down the beautifully manicured (without feeling stuffy) lawn shrieking. In a good way. (R) Deep in the garden, a lovely orange flower against a trellis and the clear blue sky.
(L) All thanks to the polarizer for the exceptionally blue sky here - though it was pretty blue already, it's getting a little leg up... (R) Perhaps my favorite of the bunch - primarily because of the color of the grass and sky.
(L) Chris gazing out over the skyline... (R) The sycamores look almost fake with their smooth bark. I love this picture.
(L) The little girl in the picture was so cute - she kept running up and down the beautifully manicured (without feeling stuffy) lawn shrieking. In a good way. (R) Deep in the garden, a lovely orange flower against a trellis and the clear blue sky.
(L) All thanks to the polarizer for the exceptionally blue sky here - though it was pretty blue already, it's getting a little leg up... (R) Perhaps my favorite of the bunch - primarily because of the color of the grass and sky.
(L) Chris gazing out over the skyline... (R) The sycamores look almost fake with their smooth bark. I love this picture.
Lost in Translation
"The Edge" in The Oregonian today contained this tidbit:
The sign reads:
Officials in Beijing have announced plans to correct some of the city's bilingual signs, including a sign identifying the Park of Ethnic Minorities as "Racist Park" and a sign warning about the hazards of a wet road that reads, "The slippery are very crafty."This reminded me of a picture Chris took on his recent trip to Shanghai:
The sign reads:
Raise the environment consciousness,
Protect the fine home
Add the green one for the JinQiao,
Make living many penny warm and fragrant
21 November 2005
The Dandy Warhols + The Out Crowd in L.A.
Friday we flew to California to spend a weekend visiting my great-aunt and cousin, and to see my brother's band (The Out Crowd) play. They're opening for The Dandy Warhols on this leg of the Dandys' American tour. I was really looking forward to seeing my baby brother being a real rock star...
The show was at the Avalon, near the corner of Hollywood & Vine (which I'm told is something special). The club itself is nothing special from the outside, but the interior - even in the dim lights of a rock and roll show - is beautiful. It's apparently been re-done recently, and is an art deco wonderland. There's a huge medallion in the center of the ceiling, an arched effect over the stage, and the balcony is essentially an art installment. There are at least four bars around the perimeter of the main floor (because, really, who wants to walk more than ten feet for a beer?), and a grand central staircase leading to the balcony. It's really quite something.
(As an aside, it had taken us nearly 1.5 hours to drive to the show from our hotel in Marina del Rey - an inordinately long time for a relatively short distance. I managed to not get stressed out by the situation, however, by reminding myself that L.A.'s traffic is, arguably, one of the city's more famous "sights." I would have been disappointed had I not seen it.)
We bumped into brother Caleb out front as we were walking in, and again on the main floor before his band took the stage. He promised to come out after their set to see if he could get us backstage. We eased our way into the growing crowd to watch The Out Crowd perform.
The Out Crowd onstage
The band was fabulous - and I'm not just saying that because I'm the big sister. Really. I hadn't been overly thrilled with what I'd heard at Dante's the week before (and blamed it mostly on the unnecessary loudness), but this was an entirely different experience. The sound was incredible, the band was tight, and the songs were fantastic. The gathering crowd, clearly there for the Dandys, was really into the band by their fourth song. Caleb had said they were winning over every crowd they'd seen up to that point, and it's easy to see why. (For some better pictures of The Out Crowd live, check out these from the Seattle show on November 14th.)
Brother Caleb, a portrait in blue
After their set, we meandered back to wait for Caleb's reappearance and we watched the crowd get bigger. The place was sold out, and jam-packed. Caleb came out to find us just as the Dandys were starting their fourth song, and brought us backstage. The "backstage" there is actually to one side of the stage ("stage right" is as you're looking at the stage from the audience, right?), and is two stories - there's a balcony overlooking the stage, and that's where we watched the rest of the Dandys' fantastic show.
The Dandy Warhols, as seen from the backstage balcony. Drummer Brent was mostly hidden from our vantage point behind a curtain. Guitarist Pete was at the end closest to us, but was moving so much he's often a blur. Here, you can basically only see his feet. The trumpet player came and went, depending on the song.
When I was in a band in the mid-1990s, the Dandys had just gotten signed to Capitol Records. My band was at a Portland club one night when the whispers began, "Courtney's here!" We finally saw him, wearing a Capitol Records T-shirt. I swear, every time I saw him that year he was wearing that damned T-shirt. For that reason alone, I decided I didn't like him. I'd never met him, nor did I know anything about him, and I'd like to think his choice of wardrobe was nothing more than his way of showing his excitement. For a struggling band like ours, however, it felt like a nasty reminder of our lowly status.
I never bought a Dandys CD (though I always liked the songs I heard on the radio), and I'd never seen them live. Then brother Caleb got to know Courtney, and become good friends with him. And then this tour came up, and our trip to L.A. - and frankly, I was expecting to have a good time but to not be enthusiastic about the Dandys' show. Not only did I have a great time, I thoroughly enjoyed the Dandys' live show.
The Dandys, and some of their adoring fans.
After the show, we hung out on the balcony with brother Caleb while the Dandys got offstage. Then there were many introductions to be made. I was happy to finally meet The Out Crowd, and to see firsthand what Caleb has been saying - that they're all great friends. There was such intermingling of the two bands that it was hard to tell who was with who. After awhile, Caleb spotted Courtney walking through the crowd and called him over. Courtney, like most rock stars, has a walk - a strut, really - that is the physical manifestation of his rock star persona. He does the strut onstage, and I wasn't surprised to see him doing it backstage, either. I was, however, surprised by what came next.
Courtney strutted over to us, and Caleb said, "Courtney, this is my sister." Courtney's face absolutely lit up - there's no other way to describe it. He smiled a big, genuine smile, and shook my hand. We chatted about another mutual friend, a guy I went to high school with who's now a video editor working with the Dandys. It was a fleeting moment, a brief exchange, but so unexpectedly pleasant that I immediately took back every negative thing I'd ever said about him.
When it came time for the after-party to move to an off-site location, we gave Caleb, his keyboardist Sarah Jane, and the Dandys' Greek trumpet player Achilles (I'm completely serious) a ride. Achilles in particular was surprised that we weren't joining them at the after party. It was by this point about 1:30am on Saturday, and we'd gotten up at 5am Friday and hadn't gotten a nap in the afternoon, so we were pretty beat. We hesitated briefly about whether to stay, but ultimately decided that exhaustion won out. Besides, despite our best efforts to fit in, we felt pretty old and out of our element and neither of us were sure we wanted to prolong that feeling. I gave Caleb a huge hug goodbye, promised Achilles we would come to the Portland shows at the end of the tour, and drove away.
So, I hereby recommend that each and every one of you in the Portland Metro area buy a ticket to the Portland show (there are two, but only one of them also has The Out Crowd - I think it's December 13 at the Wonder Ballroom, but double check for yourself). These bands are great, and there's nothing like a hometown show. C'mon, Achilles will be pleased.
The show was at the Avalon, near the corner of Hollywood & Vine (which I'm told is something special). The club itself is nothing special from the outside, but the interior - even in the dim lights of a rock and roll show - is beautiful. It's apparently been re-done recently, and is an art deco wonderland. There's a huge medallion in the center of the ceiling, an arched effect over the stage, and the balcony is essentially an art installment. There are at least four bars around the perimeter of the main floor (because, really, who wants to walk more than ten feet for a beer?), and a grand central staircase leading to the balcony. It's really quite something.
(As an aside, it had taken us nearly 1.5 hours to drive to the show from our hotel in Marina del Rey - an inordinately long time for a relatively short distance. I managed to not get stressed out by the situation, however, by reminding myself that L.A.'s traffic is, arguably, one of the city's more famous "sights." I would have been disappointed had I not seen it.)
We bumped into brother Caleb out front as we were walking in, and again on the main floor before his band took the stage. He promised to come out after their set to see if he could get us backstage. We eased our way into the growing crowd to watch The Out Crowd perform.
The Out Crowd onstage
The band was fabulous - and I'm not just saying that because I'm the big sister. Really. I hadn't been overly thrilled with what I'd heard at Dante's the week before (and blamed it mostly on the unnecessary loudness), but this was an entirely different experience. The sound was incredible, the band was tight, and the songs were fantastic. The gathering crowd, clearly there for the Dandys, was really into the band by their fourth song. Caleb had said they were winning over every crowd they'd seen up to that point, and it's easy to see why. (For some better pictures of The Out Crowd live, check out these from the Seattle show on November 14th.)
Brother Caleb, a portrait in blue
After their set, we meandered back to wait for Caleb's reappearance and we watched the crowd get bigger. The place was sold out, and jam-packed. Caleb came out to find us just as the Dandys were starting their fourth song, and brought us backstage. The "backstage" there is actually to one side of the stage ("stage right" is as you're looking at the stage from the audience, right?), and is two stories - there's a balcony overlooking the stage, and that's where we watched the rest of the Dandys' fantastic show.
The Dandy Warhols, as seen from the backstage balcony. Drummer Brent was mostly hidden from our vantage point behind a curtain. Guitarist Pete was at the end closest to us, but was moving so much he's often a blur. Here, you can basically only see his feet. The trumpet player came and went, depending on the song.
When I was in a band in the mid-1990s, the Dandys had just gotten signed to Capitol Records. My band was at a Portland club one night when the whispers began, "Courtney's here!" We finally saw him, wearing a Capitol Records T-shirt. I swear, every time I saw him that year he was wearing that damned T-shirt. For that reason alone, I decided I didn't like him. I'd never met him, nor did I know anything about him, and I'd like to think his choice of wardrobe was nothing more than his way of showing his excitement. For a struggling band like ours, however, it felt like a nasty reminder of our lowly status.
I never bought a Dandys CD (though I always liked the songs I heard on the radio), and I'd never seen them live. Then brother Caleb got to know Courtney, and become good friends with him. And then this tour came up, and our trip to L.A. - and frankly, I was expecting to have a good time but to not be enthusiastic about the Dandys' show. Not only did I have a great time, I thoroughly enjoyed the Dandys' live show.
The Dandys, and some of their adoring fans.
After the show, we hung out on the balcony with brother Caleb while the Dandys got offstage. Then there were many introductions to be made. I was happy to finally meet The Out Crowd, and to see firsthand what Caleb has been saying - that they're all great friends. There was such intermingling of the two bands that it was hard to tell who was with who. After awhile, Caleb spotted Courtney walking through the crowd and called him over. Courtney, like most rock stars, has a walk - a strut, really - that is the physical manifestation of his rock star persona. He does the strut onstage, and I wasn't surprised to see him doing it backstage, either. I was, however, surprised by what came next.
Courtney strutted over to us, and Caleb said, "Courtney, this is my sister." Courtney's face absolutely lit up - there's no other way to describe it. He smiled a big, genuine smile, and shook my hand. We chatted about another mutual friend, a guy I went to high school with who's now a video editor working with the Dandys. It was a fleeting moment, a brief exchange, but so unexpectedly pleasant that I immediately took back every negative thing I'd ever said about him.
When it came time for the after-party to move to an off-site location, we gave Caleb, his keyboardist Sarah Jane, and the Dandys' Greek trumpet player Achilles (I'm completely serious) a ride. Achilles in particular was surprised that we weren't joining them at the after party. It was by this point about 1:30am on Saturday, and we'd gotten up at 5am Friday and hadn't gotten a nap in the afternoon, so we were pretty beat. We hesitated briefly about whether to stay, but ultimately decided that exhaustion won out. Besides, despite our best efforts to fit in, we felt pretty old and out of our element and neither of us were sure we wanted to prolong that feeling. I gave Caleb a huge hug goodbye, promised Achilles we would come to the Portland shows at the end of the tour, and drove away.
So, I hereby recommend that each and every one of you in the Portland Metro area buy a ticket to the Portland show (there are two, but only one of them also has The Out Crowd - I think it's December 13 at the Wonder Ballroom, but double check for yourself). These bands are great, and there's nothing like a hometown show. C'mon, Achilles will be pleased.
17 November 2005
Loose Ends
We leave for California tomorrow morning, so it's unlikely that we'll be posting anything until next week when we get back. Just so you know.
In other news...
In other news...
- Construction work on our decks will begin on Monday, which is a huge relief after nearly three years of lawsuit and negotiation. The last few weeks have been busy with details, and I'm just so, so glad it's finally coming to the actual work.
- I'm typing awkwardly with a brace on my left wrist today - my stupid ganglion cyst is acting up (which it does periodically). I know these things can be removed, but my one experience with being operated on (my tonsillectomy in 2001) was so un-fun that I'll do pretty much anything to avoid going under any knife ever again. Stupid ganglion cyst will just have to be dealt with another way. (In other words, I'll continue to try to ignore it.)
16 November 2005
Learning Something
I got the word yesterday that I'll be teaching two sessions of level one Italian next term (Monday and Wednesday nights). I'll also be attending a class as a student (Tuesday nights), so I'll have three nights a week of Italian. If I don't come out of the winter term with a better handle on the language, that will be a sad state of affairs, indeed...
Adding a second level one class certainly adds to my workload, in that I'll have twice as much homework to correct each week, but at least I'll only have to design one program. The bad news is that the Monday class is only 8 weeks long instead of 10 because of Monday holidays in January and February, so the Monday students won't get as far as the Wednesday students. But I suppose it all works out one way or another.
My hope is that it doesn't all go completely pear-shaped so that I feel confident enough to teach level two in the spring. We'll see...
Adding a second level one class certainly adds to my workload, in that I'll have twice as much homework to correct each week, but at least I'll only have to design one program. The bad news is that the Monday class is only 8 weeks long instead of 10 because of Monday holidays in January and February, so the Monday students won't get as far as the Wednesday students. But I suppose it all works out one way or another.
My hope is that it doesn't all go completely pear-shaped so that I feel confident enough to teach level two in the spring. We'll see...
15 November 2005
Maestro, gimme a C...
(Ahem...)
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday dear Chris -
Happy birthday to you!
Happiest of happy days to my one and only!
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday dear Chris -
Happy birthday to you!
Happiest of happy days to my one and only!
14 November 2005
Old & Deaf
So, I think I've mentioned before that I've pretty much always been old & boring. After Friday night, add the wrod "deaf" to that list.
Chris & I went to Dante's after a lovely dinner with friends (at Cafe Castagna - one of the best burgers ever) to see my brother's band play their last show before heading out on the road (they left today). We had been told they'd be going onstage at 11:30 (earliest estimate) or midnight (more reasonable estimate). When we arrived, the band before them was just setting up, so we sat down, grabbed a drink, and chatted with my brother while we waited.
And then the band began to play.
Communication was reduced to hand gestures and, occasionally, screaming at the top of our lungs directly into each others' ears. If the decibel level coming from the speakers wasn't enough, I'm thinking that screaming directly into each others' ears was pretty bad for our eardrums. And I kid you not, as I was screaming at the top of my lungs I was completely unable to hear the sound of my own voice. Aside from the obvious ear-health commentary I could make here, it's really disconcerting to feel like you're yelling and not making a sound.
At any rate, I'm partly to blame for my ears' discomfort, as I usually take earplugs with me to shows. I've been doing this since the late 80s, when a Kiss concert made my ears ring for three days afterward. Lately, however, the earplugs have remained in my purse, as it seems the overall volume has come down. It's still loud, but not unnecessarily so. Friday night was the exception - of course, the night when I am earplug-less. I can only assume the sound man there is deaf. Either that, or he had earplugs.
My brother's band went onstage around 12:30, and we left after about four songs. They're good, and the crowd was really into it, we were just tired. Remember, we're old.
Chris & I went to Dante's after a lovely dinner with friends (at Cafe Castagna - one of the best burgers ever) to see my brother's band play their last show before heading out on the road (they left today). We had been told they'd be going onstage at 11:30 (earliest estimate) or midnight (more reasonable estimate). When we arrived, the band before them was just setting up, so we sat down, grabbed a drink, and chatted with my brother while we waited.
And then the band began to play.
Communication was reduced to hand gestures and, occasionally, screaming at the top of our lungs directly into each others' ears. If the decibel level coming from the speakers wasn't enough, I'm thinking that screaming directly into each others' ears was pretty bad for our eardrums. And I kid you not, as I was screaming at the top of my lungs I was completely unable to hear the sound of my own voice. Aside from the obvious ear-health commentary I could make here, it's really disconcerting to feel like you're yelling and not making a sound.
At any rate, I'm partly to blame for my ears' discomfort, as I usually take earplugs with me to shows. I've been doing this since the late 80s, when a Kiss concert made my ears ring for three days afterward. Lately, however, the earplugs have remained in my purse, as it seems the overall volume has come down. It's still loud, but not unnecessarily so. Friday night was the exception - of course, the night when I am earplug-less. I can only assume the sound man there is deaf. Either that, or he had earplugs.
My brother's band went onstage around 12:30, and we left after about four songs. They're good, and the crowd was really into it, we were just tired. Remember, we're old.
13 November 2005
Geography Challenge
Today's Oregonian ran a geography quiz in the Travel section (which it got from the Chicago Tribune). It was one of those fun lessons in how little we really know about the world... (Although Chris did much better than I did.)
Try it out for yourself here. The different quiz sections are in the blue bar to the right, starting with the photo quiz. Good luck!
Try it out for yourself here. The different quiz sections are in the blue bar to the right, starting with the photo quiz. Good luck!
11 November 2005
Passports & Music
The Lonely Planet folks have put out yet another fabulous screensaver - this time it's "52 Reasons to Have a Passport," in case you needed any encouragement. Good stuff.
Record Store Geek has been singing the praises of Pandora, which I plan to try out soon. It looks exceptionally cool, and it's free. Can't beat that.
Record Store Geek has been singing the praises of Pandora, which I plan to try out soon. It looks exceptionally cool, and it's free. Can't beat that.
10 November 2005
Portland Slide Show
In addition to their recent article about traveling to Portland in the fall, the New York Times also has a Portland slide show in the travel section. (Though it's likely to have been there all along, I just noticed the damned thing today.)
09 November 2005
California Anxiety
We'll be in Santa Monica next weekend for a couple days, mostly visiting my 94-year-old great aunt, but also to see my brother's band play in L.A. I'm a little anxious about it, as I've never really been a southern California kind of girl. Instead of the white sand and sun down there, I prefer Oregon's chilly beaches where a sweater is pretty much required (probably because I haven't looked good in a swimsuit since I was nine), and I can't help but feel I'm not nearly hip enough for the entire area. Be that as it may, we're going. My great aunt won't care who I'm wearing, and even if everyone else at my brother's show looks like I'd expect L.A. concert-goers to look, I'll console myself by knowing I'll soon be returning to the land of fleece and hiking boots.
08 November 2005
French Riots
Something is very wrong in France - this much can be said without controversy. Beyond that, however, it tends to get a little murky.
The story seems to be that the French-born children of immigrants (mostly from African countries, though even that seems to be in dispute now) have finally had enough of being treated not even like second-class citizens, but rather more like trespassers in their own country (they are French citizens, after all). The riots began nearly two weeks ago in suburban Paris, and quickly spread to cities all over France. Cars have been burned, buildings vandalized and - more recently - people killed. It's a horrific example of what can happen when people who have nothing but numbers on their side decide they're tired of the status quo.
Chris' comment this morning as we watched CNN (the news today is that the central government has given the French states the authority to impose a curfew) was that it just shows there's no accountability for poverty - it's easily ignored by those in power. Well, no more. Of course, the end result is unlikely to be good news for the disaffected youths involved in the riots. They'll probably be further ostracized by the police and the rest of the French citizenry. I wonder how long it'll take next time for the bubble to burst.
For two takes on the situation, here is the New York Times' story today, and the American Progress Report's look at the underlying causes of the unrest.
The story seems to be that the French-born children of immigrants (mostly from African countries, though even that seems to be in dispute now) have finally had enough of being treated not even like second-class citizens, but rather more like trespassers in their own country (they are French citizens, after all). The riots began nearly two weeks ago in suburban Paris, and quickly spread to cities all over France. Cars have been burned, buildings vandalized and - more recently - people killed. It's a horrific example of what can happen when people who have nothing but numbers on their side decide they're tired of the status quo.
Chris' comment this morning as we watched CNN (the news today is that the central government has given the French states the authority to impose a curfew) was that it just shows there's no accountability for poverty - it's easily ignored by those in power. Well, no more. Of course, the end result is unlikely to be good news for the disaffected youths involved in the riots. They'll probably be further ostracized by the police and the rest of the French citizenry. I wonder how long it'll take next time for the bubble to burst.
For two takes on the situation, here is the New York Times' story today, and the American Progress Report's look at the underlying causes of the unrest.
An East Coast View of Seattle
You may recall my fondness for Conor's round-the-world blog. He returned to the U.S. in mid-September, and I'm happy to say he's still blogging. And while Seattle isn't, say, Indonesia, he's tackled it with the same enthusiasm for travel and writing. Funny stuff.
07 November 2005
Portland in the New York Times' Travel Section
A friend sent me the link to this article, and I'm having mixed reactions. While on one hand, I'm usually glad when Portland gets recognition for being the incredibly cool city it is, I'm also feeling like if the word gets out too much it'll turn into something else. As I read the list of things to do, see, and eat, I was torn between protesting when I thought they'd ignored something that was better (or praised something mediocre) - and letting sleeping dogs lie.
I wasn't born in Oregon, though I've lived nearly 2/3 of my life here, and I've been known to be an unofficial delegate of the state's tourism bureau. There are times when I've waxed poetic about Oregon to anyone who would listen. And there are still people for whom I'd offer the best suggestions. But for the masses, I'm starting to change my tune. I'm finding myself becoming more and more the kind of person who'd prefer to keep those places local. I like to think that means I'm becoming more of an Oregonian, perhaps in a way even Tom McCall would have liked.
I wasn't born in Oregon, though I've lived nearly 2/3 of my life here, and I've been known to be an unofficial delegate of the state's tourism bureau. There are times when I've waxed poetic about Oregon to anyone who would listen. And there are still people for whom I'd offer the best suggestions. But for the masses, I'm starting to change my tune. I'm finding myself becoming more and more the kind of person who'd prefer to keep those places local. I like to think that means I'm becoming more of an Oregonian, perhaps in a way even Tom McCall would have liked.
04 November 2005
An End to the Bachelorette Life
Chris comes home tomorrow, thank goodness.
I swear, I used to be able to take care of myself - but after 9 years of living with Chris I find I'm either unable or unwilling to cook for one. (Yeah, I think it's the latter, too.) I stay up way too late doing nothing (and by "nothing" I mean watching television or surfing the Internet). It's pathetic. I'm usually okay if he's gone for a couple days, but anything over four days and I revert back to my inner caveman. Pathetic, I tell you.
Anyway, he called me at 9 this morning (1am Saturday his time) to say he was all packed and ready to go, and that he'd taken a whole bunch of pictures that day - so there are Shanghai pictures to look forward to. Aren't you excited? I know I am...
I swear, I used to be able to take care of myself - but after 9 years of living with Chris I find I'm either unable or unwilling to cook for one. (Yeah, I think it's the latter, too.) I stay up way too late doing nothing (and by "nothing" I mean watching television or surfing the Internet). It's pathetic. I'm usually okay if he's gone for a couple days, but anything over four days and I revert back to my inner caveman. Pathetic, I tell you.
Anyway, he called me at 9 this morning (1am Saturday his time) to say he was all packed and ready to go, and that he'd taken a whole bunch of pictures that day - so there are Shanghai pictures to look forward to. Aren't you excited? I know I am...
03 November 2005
It's Official
I have an Italian penpal. Or, as he might say, "un amico per corrispondenza." (Okay, he probably wouldn't say that, but that's what my online dictionary told me was the translation for "penpal.")
I'm not sure how it happened, but somehow an Italian photo-blogger whose work I've admired for awhile found this here blog, and he wrote me a note. Since then, I've been bravely testing my Italian out on him, and he's very forgiving of all the mistakes I'm making! For instance, I was trying to comment on a photograph he'd taken of some carved Halloween pumpkins... Let's just say the words for "pumpkin" and "sugar" are remarkably similar in Italian, and I'm sure he got a good laugh out of it... I certainly did when he pointed it out! (Because, come on - can you imagine trying to carve a face into sugar?!?)
Anyway, I'm really pleased, as it gives me a chance to practice Italian in a way I don't usually get - writing - and it's clear that I need the practice. It takes me ages to write three paragraphs. In addition, he's a nice guy who takes some beautiful pictures. Who knows, I might actually feel competent with Italian someday.
I'm not sure how it happened, but somehow an Italian photo-blogger whose work I've admired for awhile found this here blog, and he wrote me a note. Since then, I've been bravely testing my Italian out on him, and he's very forgiving of all the mistakes I'm making! For instance, I was trying to comment on a photograph he'd taken of some carved Halloween pumpkins... Let's just say the words for "pumpkin" and "sugar" are remarkably similar in Italian, and I'm sure he got a good laugh out of it... I certainly did when he pointed it out! (Because, come on - can you imagine trying to carve a face into sugar?!?)
Anyway, I'm really pleased, as it gives me a chance to practice Italian in a way I don't usually get - writing - and it's clear that I need the practice. It takes me ages to write three paragraphs. In addition, he's a nice guy who takes some beautiful pictures. Who knows, I might actually feel competent with Italian someday.
Brownie - Still Being Paid
The fact that this man is still on the public dime is really outrageous to me. Why isn't the press reporting this? He's been made a joke, even by his former boss Chertoff, and yet he remains on the payroll. What gives? Couldn't his paycheck be better spent in, say, the 9th ward?
KATRINA -- BROWN'S EMAILS SHOW OUT-OF-TOUCH FEMA DIRECTOR: Emails turned over to Congress by the Homeland Security Department show just how out of touch former FEMA director Michael Brown was during the Hurricane Katrina recovery efforts. In the emails, "Brown discussed his appearance, his dog and his public image as the government's relief effort unraveled after Hurricane Katrina." On the morning of August 29, the day Katrina hit the Gulf Coast, Brown wrote his colleagues about his wardrobe, stating, "I am a fashion god," then joked, "Can I quit now? Can I go home?" Two days later, after a FEMA regional official sent him an urgent email describing a situation on the ground that was "past critical," Brown's response was, "Thanks for update. Anything specific I need to do or tweak?" Brown was advised by a colleague, "In this crisis and on TV you just need to look more hard-working ... ROLL UP THE SLEEVES." In an appearance before the House committee in September, Brown defended his actions. "I get it when it comes to emergency management, I know what it's all about," he said. "I know how to do it, and I think I do a pretty darn good job of it." Despite his resignation announcement on September 12, Brown continues to be on the federal payroll.
- Taken from today's American Progress Report
KATRINA -- BROWN'S EMAILS SHOW OUT-OF-TOUCH FEMA DIRECTOR: Emails turned over to Congress by the Homeland Security Department show just how out of touch former FEMA director Michael Brown was during the Hurricane Katrina recovery efforts. In the emails, "Brown discussed his appearance, his dog and his public image as the government's relief effort unraveled after Hurricane Katrina." On the morning of August 29, the day Katrina hit the Gulf Coast, Brown wrote his colleagues about his wardrobe, stating, "I am a fashion god," then joked, "Can I quit now? Can I go home?" Two days later, after a FEMA regional official sent him an urgent email describing a situation on the ground that was "past critical," Brown's response was, "Thanks for update. Anything specific I need to do or tweak?" Brown was advised by a colleague, "In this crisis and on TV you just need to look more hard-working ... ROLL UP THE SLEEVES." In an appearance before the House committee in September, Brown defended his actions. "I get it when it comes to emergency management, I know what it's all about," he said. "I know how to do it, and I think I do a pretty darn good job of it." Despite his resignation announcement on September 12, Brown continues to be on the federal payroll.
- Taken from today's American Progress Report
02 November 2005
Halloween Pumpkin Pictures
Here are the important pictures from my Halloween - the pumpkins, of course!
Here's my pumpkin in the light (remember, this was my inspiration). The mini pumpkin is actually a little squash, I think. I bought it because it had a good nose. I mean stem.
Here are all four of our carved beauties - mine is on the far left.
And close-ups of the gourds. I can't wait until next year...
Here's my pumpkin in the light (remember, this was my inspiration). The mini pumpkin is actually a little squash, I think. I bought it because it had a good nose. I mean stem.
Here are all four of our carved beauties - mine is on the far left.
And close-ups of the gourds. I can't wait until next year...
Monster Name Decoder
01 November 2005
Woody Allen on Psychotherapy
Filmmaker Woody Allen is interviewed in a new issue of Vanity Fair, wherein one will find this information:
Allen, who gave up therapy after meeting Soon-Yi, said that he had lived his life in “low-level depression”. “My shrink said to me, ‘when you came here, I thought it was going to be extremely interesting and kind of fascinating, but it’s like, you know, listening to an accountant or something’.”
I'm not sure why I find that so damned funny, but I do.
Allen, who gave up therapy after meeting Soon-Yi, said that he had lived his life in “low-level depression”. “My shrink said to me, ‘when you came here, I thought it was going to be extremely interesting and kind of fascinating, but it’s like, you know, listening to an accountant or something’.”
I'm not sure why I find that so damned funny, but I do.
Teabag Tag
Charity begins at home.
Terence (190-159 BC)
I never knew where this saying came from... Nice to have it attributed.
Terence (190-159 BC)
I never knew where this saying came from... Nice to have it attributed.
We're mechanics in our spare time...
My boss and I just spent over an hour replacing the headlight bulbs on my car.
In our defense, it was way more difficult to get to the bulbs than it needed to be (for one of them, we had to remove the freaking battery), and neither of us is particularly mechanically inclined. We did manage to get it done, which made us both feel a huge sense of accomplishment. The fact that my hands were so cold afterwards that I couldn't type properly was incidental.
In our defense, it was way more difficult to get to the bulbs than it needed to be (for one of them, we had to remove the freaking battery), and neither of us is particularly mechanically inclined. We did manage to get it done, which made us both feel a huge sense of accomplishment. The fact that my hands were so cold afterwards that I couldn't type properly was incidental.
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