Filter & Splice

Follow the Flags - We're Redirecting

2007-10-23T21:50:00.000-06:00

Man, when I decide something, I decide it quickly. I've set up a new blog on WordPress. I found a name I liked and you can read all about it on . . . drum roll, please! . . .

The Woo Woo Teacup Journal!

I've got a bit of work to do, transferring my links and the like, and maybe changing the picture, so bear with me. If you follow me using a feed reader or news aggregator, please link up to the new site, if you so desire. You don't have to dump this one right away. I may post a few more straggling things, plus I'm not going to delete this. Too much work went into it over the past year. I'll link to Filter & Splice on my new blog.

What's in a Name?

2007-10-22T14:16:00.000-06:00

Now that I'm thinking of moving my blog to Word Press, I can't stop thinking about it. More specifically, I can't stop trying to think of a name for it. While I could use Filter & Splice, I discovered that both words are so common online that the site name really doesn't stand out. (And I thought I was being so cute. At least it comes out on top of a Google search when you type in "Filter & Splice.") I've considered using my name for a blog, but the trouble is that there are rafters full of Mary Warners out there, so the name is taken. I could take a pseudonym, something creative and distinctive, but that's not me. I don't want to add the complication. Besides, I like my name.

The internet practically begs for made up words or interesting combinations of words. Joanne, who readers will remember from the Poppy Seed Heart blog, has recently started a blog called Bebellyboo. Very cute. And unique. I need to come up with a name like that, but not like that. One that shows my personality. Ideally, the name will be whimsical, but easy to spell and easy to remember. It's a tall order, which is why I'm racking my brain.

Random starting points for the name - something bird-related, something that uses my initials, a name that uses other letters in my name, something related to Dave Matthews Band (I know, that's lame), something writing-related, something related to creativity, something curvy. I'm also quite fond of the "quite contrary" part of "Mary, Mary, quite contrary." This used to be recited at me when I was a kid, especially by my seventh grade English teacher, which I never minded. Probably because I rather like be contrary, but not always.

I've tried out the following possibilities using my initials by Googling them and checking the number of hits:

mewbird - lots of hits, already taken by some jazz dude
trarybird - no hits
mewzba - no hits
mewsba - no hits (I keep wanting to type the "s" rather than the "z," though I like the "z" better)
zamew - this hit on a Polish guy who makes gantries
snickmew - like the sound of snick
mewzla - one hit
maelwa - 3 hits
melwa - 2860 hits

Suggestions, anyone? This is making me crazy.

Plot Hole

2007-10-22T13:35:00.000-06:00

Today is a writing day. While working on my final story in the Greenville series, I discovered a plot hole. One of my characters is part American Indian, African-American, and white. He is dark-skinned. He served in the military during World War II (in the Marines). I had him being awarded the Medal of Honor. Trouble is that only seven African-American soldiers ever received the Medal of Honor for service during World War II and they didn't get the medals until Bill Clinton's administration. Big problem there. I can't have my character receiving the Medal of Honor because the seven men who received them are distinct individuals who can be tracked down easily on the internet. It would feel like dishonoring them to add a fictional character to their ranks. So, I went online and did a little searching for medals and for the service of African-Americans in the military. Thank goodness I found this plot hole before I finished or published.

Here are a couple of links I found this morning that helped me out of my dilemma.

World War II African American Medal of Honor Recipients

Pictures of African Americans During World War II

Great photos in that second site.

Google Analytics

2007-10-21T17:25:00.000-06:00

So, then, I'm thinking of switching my blog over to Word Press. While there are certain features of this here Blogger Google blog I like (the easy ability to upload photos and change the template), I don't like that I can't get statistics on the readership. Word Press has the reader stats built into the blogger dashboard. There is a way to get the stats on this Blogger blog, but to do so I'd have to sign up for Google Analytics. It's a free service for blogs that get less than 5 million page views per month and I know I fall well within that category, so that isn't the problem. The problem is that, according to the Terms of Service, Google can change the terms of service at any time, which means it can start charging for the service, but the kicker is that Google doesn't have to notify anyone of the change in the Terms of Service. The onus for doing this is placed with the user, not the company. I don't know about you, but rushing off to check the latest Terms of Service for Google Analytics hardly tops my list of things to do while on the internet. You know, whenever credit card companies or banks change their terms of service, they are legally bound to contact their customers and allow them to opt out. Why is Google not taking the lead on this in the online realm? Why is it not notifying users when its Terms of Service change? Google sure as heck asks for our email addresses often enough. It know where to find us.

Me-Me-Me-Meme

2007-10-21T17:00:00.000-06:00

I have been tagged by Kim at Knit Whimsies. The purpose of this particular meme is to post eight random things about myself. But there's some language to include - the not-so-fine print, which is below:

The Rules:Once tagged, you must link to the person who tagged you. Then post the rules before your list, and list 8 random things about yourself. At the end of the post, you must tag and link to 8 other people, visit their sites, and leave a comment letting them know they’ve been tagged.

Once again, I'm going to have trouble listing eight other people to tag, but I'll give it the old college try. So, eight random things about me . . .

1. I keep a stack of books beside my bed. I can't live without reading material. Sometimes I don't get to them all.
2. I heard a Moby song today at the grocery store and it made me realize how much I like his music and how much I miss it. I haven't listened to any Moby in months. I really must buy some of his albums, rather than borrow them from the library.
3. I'm obsessive about backing up my writing files.
4. I'm not obsessive about editing my writing. I edit as I write (I know - it's a sin in the writing world to do this), so my stories and essays are pretty much finished by the time I'm done writing. (Please help your editor friends off the floor. I think they've fainted.)
5. I'm totally envious of Neil Gaiman's writing output. Does this guy fret over editing?
6. Eldest Son and Daughter are both taller than I am. Young Son is not far behind.
7. While I'm glad I have an art degree, I'm really jonesing for the sociology degree my husband is working toward.
8. I own an original Geek Squad t-shirt, handed to me by Robert Stevens (Stephens?) himself, while I was at the Minnesota State Fair. Stevens (Stephens? - Somebody please give me the proper spelling!) was a co-founder of Geek Squad, which is now owned by Best Buy.

Okay, now it's time to tag. I'll tag Livy, Lex, Ariel, Rianna, Soloist, and Reeva Dubois. Hey, that's six people. Not bad.

Playing Catch-Up

2007-10-21T16:29:00.000-06:00

Golly! I've been away for days. During that time, I've been tagged by Kim at Knit Whimsies, which I will deliver on in another post, my family and I have helped a friend move, I've gone to work, I've read more stories in "Logorrhea," I've checked Jeffrey Eugenides' book "Middlesex" out of the library, I've almost finished knitting a bath mitt, and I've gotten my new issue of Wired magazine in the mail. Such a useful magazine, Wired is. There's not a single issue wherein I haven't learned something. Since their redesign, they've made it a point to publish even more letters from readers, which I appreciate. Hey, there are some experts out here! I just wish I knew who wrote the smart-ass intros that lead off reader letters.

We've had rain, rain, and more rain in central Minnesota. It makes me think back to high school French class, where I learned to say "Il pleut," which means "It's raining." You say "pleut" as "plu" - kind of a short "u," but with some "e" mixed in. It almost sounds like rain when you say it, especially the sort of gray, plodding rain we've had. My mom told me that she had heard that if all the rain we've had lately were snow, we'd have 180 inches. Bring it on, baby! The white stuff, please, not more rain. Have we turned into Portland or Seattle?

What Makes for a Date-able Man

2007-10-17T20:48:00.000-06:00

Hubby and I caught part of a PBS program called "Life Part 2" a few nights ago and had a very good laugh. The show discusses various aspects of aging, primarily from the view of Baby Boomers. A young man was visiting a retirement community and noticed that it was clique-y, like high school. Women out-numbered men and there was a lot of dating going on. The one trait that older women said was most desirable in dating a man was that he be . . . wait for it . . .

. . . able to drive at night.

The bar has officially been lowered.

Unwords

2007-10-17T20:32:00.000-06:00

Roxanne, one of my writer friends, pointed out this great website - Unwords - which is a site for inventing new words for "for those hard to express things and ideas in your head."

Coast around and you'll find gems such as mahonkin, McFinch, meandrathal, Einstoned, Emotional Tourette's, enclownter, eufirstics, wickcellent, wober, and wordjones. Really, take a look and have a laugh. It's filarious.

A Continuation of Sorts

2007-10-16T18:54:00.000-06:00

Have you noticed that reddit is posting more stories through my blog within the past few days? From five it's jumped to twenty-five. It's great because I don't have to bop over to reddit to check their site. The news comes right to me.

Today, there was a story posted about a six-year-old getting a notice from her city telling her to clean up her graffiti or pay a $300 fine. The graffiti? A mere chalk drawing someone called to complain about. How's that for being uptight? Hide your chalk, kiddies!

More Graffiti from Blanchard Dam

2007-10-15T15:25:00.000-06:00

Here are more photos of graffiti from Blanchard Dam. Thanks for indulging me.

Btw, the last bit of graffiti says, "Nature Thru a Fence," in case you're having trouble reading it. Notice that Hubby artistically took the shot to show the fence in the foreground.

Old News & Modern Art

2007-10-15T15:17:00.000-06:00

Today was a writing day. I managed almost 1,000 words on a new story, the last in my Greenville series. Because I was busy with that, today I'm presenting you with some old news. Last week, on my birthday, my husband, Young Son #2 and I took a trip to Blanchard Dam. I had never been before and neither had Young Son. I was wholly impressed with the dam, the Soo Line trestle bridge (which is now a recreational trail) and all of the graffiti. Now, I know there are lots of people out there who can't standing graffiti, what with its defacement of public and private property, but that aside, I can truly appreciate the artistry presented. Especially when you think about the pressure the artists must be facing to get their tagging done before they are caught.

Modern Art Pissing Match

2007-10-13T14:24:00.000-06:00

I left a comment on the Dangerous Intersection blog a few days ago and suddenly found myself in a pissing match. I didn't ask to be in a pissing match, but that's where I was.

Erich Vieth posted a picture of a couple of modern art paintings and said that he "wasn't tempted to buy either of these paintings," which were going for $1,300 and $3,200. He indicated that he didn't "get" modern art, which is something I've heard a lot from non-artists. It's as if they feel they don't have the expertise to judge art based on how they react to it. I agreed with Erich, saying that I wouldn't buy the paintings either, and mentioned that our experience of art is subjective - trying to let him know that he could trust his own instincts when it came to paintings.

For opening my mouth, I was promptly challenged by a commenter with the screen name gatomjp to explain myself in detail and to show some of my own work. I felt that I was being placed in a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation. If I didn't link up to my work, I'd be considered chicken. If I did, I'd be placing my art in line for potential potshots, which may or may not be based on the fact that I said something that was disagreeable to gatomjp. I don't have much up in the way of art on my blog, but I did link to my artist trading cards. Gatomjp also asked me to define why, precisely, I didn't like the two paintings presented in the blog.

My reply garnered this response from gatomjp: "Sorry, Mary that's not good enough." I was expected to give an essay on the technical aspects of why I didn't like the paintings. It wasn't good enough that I simply didn't care for them. Gatomjp also leapt to the assumption that I didn't like abstract art at all. He/she did indicate liking my artist trading cards, which was a surprise considering the tone of the rest of his/her comments. I was beginning to think that maybe gatomjp was the artist of the pictured paintings, or perhaps an artist who produced paintings like those pictured. I was stumped by the vehemence at which this person was going after me and thought that if I'd been at a party and someone jumped on me like this, I'd find a way to distance myself right quick. It's not that I mind be asked to give a more in-depth explanation for my opinions, but a little honey (i.e. nicely asking), rather than vinegar (i.e. making assumptions that aren't true) goes a long way in getting my cooperation.

I obliged anyway, giving a long, detailed comment about how a painting can be technically perfect, but if it doesn't speak to my emotions, it will have missed its mark. I used music as my alternate example, because non-musicians have no problem determining what sort of music they enjoy.

As I was thinking further about this issue, and waiting to see how gatomjp would respond to my long comment, I realized that there was more that I had to say about technical vs. emotional aspects in creative works, this time in the subject of literature. When I write short stories, I'm always concerned with the technical aspects of telling a story. How do I turn this phrase? What's my point of view? Am I using cliches? How's my spelling and grammar? Did I break that paragraph at the right time? Do I have any plot holes?

When I read a finished story to my writers group, I'm hoping they will catch problems with the technical aspects of the story. What I've discovered is that this rarely occurs. What happens instead is that the other writers start talking about the content of my story. What happens to that character? Hey, I've had that experience. What's synesthesia? (Or some other obscure topic I've brought up.) After witnessing this several times, I realized that the technical aspects of my storytelling were not jumping to the fore, screaming for attention. They are at least adequate in allowing the story to take center stage. (There's always room for improvement, though.)

This is how it should be with art or music or literature or any other creative endeavor. The technical aspects should remain invisible. The work should appear as though created by magic. Once you've hooked people, gotten them emotionally entangled, they may be curious about how you made it happen. Then you can explain the technique behind the work. If all people notice is the technique, then you haven't done your job as an artist. You haven't truly connected.

All Better

2007-10-11T21:31:00.000-06:00

I'm all better today, just in time for my birthday. Thanks to everyone who wished me a happy day, starting with Eldest Son, who surprised me with a hug and well wishes before he left for school, rapidly followed by Young Son #2, Husband and Daughter. At work I got birthday wishes from my co-workers, plus my mother-in-law, father-in-law, and brother-in-law. My sister called while I was out. (Shucks, I missed her.) One of my brothers called and so did my mom, who gave me a hug a few days ago in case she didn't get a chance to see me on the big day. Ryan and Rianna left birthday wishes on my blog and my hubby and children took me out for dinner. So cool! Thanks, everyone, for making me feel loved. :) :) :)

Age and Accomplisment

2007-10-10T18:20:00.000-06:00

I don't know. Maybe I'm just sensitive because I'm going to reach a milestone age tomorrow, but I'm sick to death of headlines like the one on the current Special Issue of Smithsonian magazine. (Fall 2007) It is . . .

37 Under 36: America's Young Innovators in the Arts and Sciences

I don't know about you, but the vaunting of the spectacular achievements of our youth make me feel completely inadequate. It always has, even when I was considered young, mostly because the tone is that if you haven't made it by a particular youthful age, the implication is that you'll never make it. As if all of us must achieve something noteworthy enough to make it into a magazine. As if those of us who don't simply aren't worth breathing the air on this earth. I do not begrudge people their accomplishments, au contraire! Amen and hallelujah to them for what they've done. And, amen and hallelujah to those who plug away at tasks that aren't deemed noteworthy by society, but that are crucial nonetheless. (You go, Mike Rowe!) But, quit attaching an age to the accomplishment, as though somehow we're all supposed to be so impressed by the wunderkind, merely because of the age, without factoring in all of the support the kid has had in getting to where he's gotten.

Because we can't seem to help ourselves on the whole age vs. achievement issue, I'd like to point out my favorite article on the subject, published by Wired Magazine in July 2006. (Yes, I still have the print version.) It's called "What Kind of Genius Are You?" and looks at the research of David Galenson, who studied age and achievement and found that those who blossomed early tended to peak early, but that there were plenty of genius types who didn't hit their creative strides until much later in life. There's still hope for those of us over 36.

P.S. I forgot a link that came through The Rake's Secrets of the Day email today. Apparently, I'm not to only one interested in the accomplishments of older folks. Lizz Winstead, who co-created The Daily Show, is looking for guys over 40 who've always wanted to be in a rock band, but life got in their way, for a reality show called "Ready 2 Rock." Here's a link to a video of Winstead describing the project.

Blech!

2007-10-10T17:57:00.000-06:00

I've been sick the last few days. Monday was Coming Down With Day. Yesterday was Flat on My Back, Headachy, Weak, Not Very Hungry, Muscle-achy, Slept for Hours, Misery Day. Today was Better, But Still Not Quite Right Day. I took a nap, which helped, but my head is still threatening to ache if I don't behave. The good thing is lots of sleep, which, according to Po Bronson, is a very good thing indeed. Check out his article on sleep in New York Magazine. I can feel my brain cells getting stronger already.

Too Funny Not to Pass Along

2007-10-08T13:06:00.000-06:00

This gem of a post from CRACKED.com came through on my reddit feed on the Filter & Splice sidebar. It is simply too funny not to pass along.

The 9 Manliest Names in the World

Go ahead, have yourselves a giggle. No, wait! That's not manly enough. Have yourself a chortle, followed by a snort.

I've Always Liked Crows

2007-10-08T11:54:00.000-06:00

I've heard crows called nasty birds many times in my life - dirty, a nuisance - but I've always been rather fond of them. I have an affinity for all wild birds, but most especially black birds, crows and ravens. Perhaps it comes from reading Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven" over and over as a kid, but I can't be sure.

When I was in kindergarten, I found a dead crow and felt sorry for it, so I put it in my school bag and brought it home. Scared my mom half to death when she saw it.

I ran across an article on National Geographic's website today, one that explains how several New Caledonian crows have been fitted with tiny cameras to track their behavior and how scientists are finding that these crows use tools much more than previously believed. How can you not like a bird that's so smart?

Night at the Museum

2007-10-07T11:28:00.000-06:00

A couple of nights ago, hubby and I sat down with Young Son #2 to watch "Night at the Museum." As a museum manager, I like to see how movies portray the museum experience. Plus, the previews made this look like a fun movie, in no small part thanks to Ben Stiller. It did not disappoint. The movie plays on the wishful thinking of museum staff and visitors in that everything in the exhibits comes to life at night. (I know I sure wish I could talk to the people I've read about who've passed into history.)

Ben Stiller plays Larry Daley, the new night watchman. He's replacing three older security guards played by Dick Van Dyke, Mickey Rooney, and Bill Cobbs, all of whom give stellar performances. There's a bit of predictability in the plot in that Larry is a dreamer who can't seem to get anything accomplished, but he must because he's the non-custodial parent in a divorce situation and has to provide security for his kid. The creators of the movie did a seamless job in bringing the museum exhibits to life, especially the T-Rex installation. Owen Wilson and Robin Williams are hilarious and lend to the credibility. The only thing that seemed weird is that certain exhibits caused all sorts of chaos, but others just seemed to wander around aimlessly in the background - like that giant jade Chinese dog. I wasn't keen on the museum director, who was a stuffy fuddy-duddy. That's not what most museum directors are like, but we still have to deal with the reputation because it keeps getting played that way in movies.

All-in-all, "Night at the Museum" was a good movie and plays well with kids.

As an aside, Dick Van Dyke has always reminded me of my dad, especially when he was younger. It's the jaw. My dad has the same strong jaw Dick Van Dyke has.

Digust

2007-10-07T11:04:00.000-06:00

I found an interesting link on Kevin Donovan's "Bumblin' Along" blog. I always find good links there. Kevin really gets around on the internet.

Anyway, this link is to an online test in the Science & Nature section of the BBC. The test, which is easy to take - and, to be honest, pretty fun - is to discover what makes us feel disgusted. You run through a series of pictures and rate your level of disgust from high to low. When the test is over, each picture is explained in relation to how most people feel in terms of disgust. The point is that humans should naturally feel disgusted over things that are potentially disease-producing. When my husband and I went through it, we strangely were not as disgusted as the average person over most of the pictures. I can attribute this to a couple of things. We have three children and have seen pretty much every illness-related disgusting event you can see - poop, snot, gushing blood, etc., etc. - and as a parent, you just have to get over the disgust and deal. Also, we are adventurous eaters, being willing to try most any kind of new food. (It helps to watch Anthony Bourdain and Andrew Zimmern.) Hubby is more adventurous than I am with food, but I, at one time, considered becoming a naturopath and have long been fascinated with medicine, so I must have a stomach that can take the gross.

Google Alerts

2007-10-07T10:48:00.000-06:00

A person recently met introduced me to Google Alerts. I couldn't figure out how certain people rarely named in this blog somehow had discovered practically instantaneously how they'd been named and had dropped by to leave comments. Spooky, let me tell you. Google Alerts was the answer. It allows you to type in search terms to keep track of and spits back mentions of those search terms via email. You need to have a Google account to manage your alerts. You can choose where you want Google to search (blogs, news, comprehensive search) and how often you want to get alerts (as they happen, daily, weekly). I've found several good articles on the Dave Matthews Band this way. Also, in a move that looks like high vanity, I have a Google Alert on my name. What generally appears in my alert is my blog posts, but this morning I found a newspaper article by another writer named Mary Warner.

Eczema

2007-10-05T21:52:00.000-06:00

Ever read a story that sticks with you? I don't mean stickiness in the overt that-was-cool sort of way, but in the subtle nagging-at-you-like-you've-left-something-undone sort of way.

I'm reading a collection of short stories called "Logorrhea: Good Words Make Good Stories," edited by John Klima. Each author had to write a story based on winning words from the Scripps National Spelling Bee. The story that's sticking with me is "Eczema" by Clare Dudman. The gist of the story is about a young man whose sister has died. He doesn't fit into regular society, but I'm not going to tell you why. The story involves three neighbor women dressed in black that the man's sister used to call crows. The ending of the story left me unsettled, like I want to continue the story. That's why it's sticking with me.

Stephen Fry on Fame

2007-10-05T21:41:00.000-06:00

Actor Stephen Fry has started a blog. Neil Gaiman pointed out Stephen's post on fame, which is long, but quite marvelous. It makes our reactions to famous people seem quite ridiculous, albeit I'm not quite sure how we shut off our feelings for those we admire.

Minnesota News

2007-10-05T21:32:00.000-06:00

Just found a couple of pieces of Minnesota news on Reddit. Both have wider implications. I'll let you read them and form your own judgments. (Of course, that's not gonna stop me from having an opinion.)

National Guard Troops Denied Benefits After Longest Deployment of Iraq War - The soldiers' orders were written for service one day short of that needed to get full benefits. After reading this, tell me that our President and this White House Administration supports our troops.

24 Illegal Song Downloads Cost U.S. Woman 220,000 - The "U.S. Woman" was actually a Minnesota woman and she lost in her court battle against the Recording Industry of America. I think it's time we support musicians who work outside of the mega-music recording and publishing industry.

Down with Love

2007-10-03T19:04:00.000-06:00

Sometimes it's easy to forget how great a movie is. My hubby and children bought me "Down with Love," both the movie and the soundtrack, a few years ago. I watched the movie a couple of times when I got it, but haven't since. It sat on a shelf gathering dust until last night. Over the weekend, while channel surfing, I caught part of the movie on cable and it reminded me how delightful and bedazzling it was. It's styled after the movies of the 1960s, all bright colors, snappy battle-of-the-sexes dialogue, montage time-passing scene, cartoon opening, split-screen double entendres, and overdone poses to show off the stunning outfits worn by the ladies. The music fits the era, too, with performances of standards by Frank Sinatra, Judy Garland, and Michael Buble. (I know, Michael is not OF the era, but he performs several standards from the era on the soundtrack.)

"Down with Love" stars Renee Zellweger as Barbara Novak, an author who has written a book called "Down with Love" that teaches women how not to fall in love with men. Ewan McGregor is her male nemesis. He plays Catcher Block, posing as Zip Martin, in order to trick Novak into falling in love with him. David Hyde Pierce plays Peter MacMannus, Catcher's humorously neurotic boss. He is in love with Barbara's editor and friend, Vikki Hiller, played by Sarah Paulson. Vikki is a chain-smoking live-wire who packs a mean punch.

The movie clips along and makes me laugh and clap with delight. There's only one scene where the movie's creators should have said "Cut!" half-way through -- a monologue by Barbara Novak. When you see it, you'll know exactly what I'm talking about. When her monologue ends and the camera cuts to Catcher Block, he looks practically comatose. Other than this one minor flaw, "Down with Love" is worth watching over and over.

Forget Rich

2007-10-02T18:04:00.000-06:00

I want to make it comfortably well off.

Riff on Matthews' Quote

2007-10-01T17:56:00.000-06:00

Something Dave Matthews recently said spun me into a mental riff.

According to an article called “Matthews Battles to Get It Right on the Stage and in Life” by George Varga on SignOnSanDiego.com (of the Union-Tribune), Matthews doesn’t like to do interviews because he doesn’t care for how the media oversimplifies things. The quote from Matthews:

“Because of what it is, ‘rock journalism,’ like much of the other mainstream media, is an attempt to sell an oversimplified, nicely packaged vision of the world that will be palatable and easy to travel, when the truth is far more confusing. I can assure anyone that gets their news from the mainstream media that there’s a far more inspirational, complex and breathtaking world out there than the one portrayed to us in general by the purveyors of information.”

You bet. Rock journalism is trying to sell something. Music, for one, but also the glamour and gossip of the rock scene, all in an effort to sell publications and advertising. It’s about readership. If you give people something juicy, they’ll let it dribble from their chins while they eat it up. Sales soar. Ka-ching!

Whether that news is palatable is another story altogether. I have never cared for rock journalism’s concentration on the underbellies of performing artists – the sex and drugs part of the equation, not to mention the liberal shots of liquor. Fine, musicians are human. They have peccadilloes. It’s a rare article about Dave Matthews that doesn’t mention his alcohol consumption. You’d think the guy was a raging alcoholic, and maybe he is, but I doubt it. Raging alcoholics tend to have difficulty remaining upright, let alone maintaining a productive and profitable creative life. But rock journalists keep writing this aspect of Matthews’ life because it connects with the majority of their readers. Besides, who has time to go any deeper? Rock stars are busy. Rock journalists are busy. Time is money. Tick-tock, tick-tock. Get the story out to readers.

Without making excuses for the mainstream media, which, as Matthews and many other critics point out, have plenty of flaws, how can they possible give us the entire, complicated story? The reality is that no one, not even the great PBS documentary directors of our day, can tell the full story on anything. If one could, there’d be no reason to revisit topics, to reexamine the truth, which can be slippery and multi-faceted. Instead, the story is revealed in dribs and drabs over time.

This is the way of all creative works, not just the machinations of rock journalists. The products of creativity, be they songs or books or paintings or stories in the mainstream media, are necessarily distillations. Why does Matthews continue to write songs? I’d venture to guess that, like most artists, he can’t capture everything he wants to express within one song. Neither can rock journalists, or other purveyors of mainstream media, serve up everything they’d like to say in one story or report, even if they desperately wanted to. The flaw is not only with mainstream media’s oversimplifications, it is with all of us who don’t have the patience to allow the story to unfold. We want the final story immediately, so we can make decisions and live our lives accordingly. We won’t be satisfied with any less.

If you want to get a bigger picture of Dave Matthews, you can’t read one article in Rolling Stone and take it as gospel, the last word. You have to listen to his band’s music and his solo music, follow the band’s website, and see the films he’s been in, plus read material and comments posted by fans, along with reading what rock journalists have to say about him. Even then, you will only get a glimpse of the fullness of his being.

Extrapolate this process to any news item and you can begin to see why the mainstream media chooses oversimplification. This does not mean they’re off the hook, however. They could be telling us more of a story than they do; building upon what has gone before, rather than resorting to banal questions like the examples Matthews gives in the SignOnSanDiego article. How many times should he have to answer, “What’s your favorite color?” Has any rock journalist ever asked him, “What’s your favorite note?”

False Familiarity

2007-10-01T13:11:00.000-06:00

Last night my husband and I had a grand opportunity. We met several people from a chat forum my husband participates in. Because I don’t participate in this chat, other than to read over my husband’s shoulder periodically, or listen as he mentions bits of the conversation, I had no preconceived notions of what people would be like based upon their screen names or what they wrote.

Turns out my husband knew two of the posters, one whom he attended Boy Scout camp with as a kid; the other whose daughter lives in our neighborhood. Small world, as someone said last night.

“Red,” the gal who got this gathering together, lived in Minnesota at one time and now lives out-of-state. She wanted to return to Minnesota for a visit and, while here, meet some of the posters. She has had contact with some of the posters before and carefully picked who she wanted to meet, primarily concentrating on those with a liberal bent, but throwing in a few conservatives for good measure. The chat forum often revolves around political issues, so the differences in the political persuasions of posters are pretty apparent over time.

The key here is “over time.” Without physical contact, it is only by following a poster’s writing over time that allows the reader to make judgments about character. And we do make judgments, sometimes too quickly. When we are online with someone, we tend to think we know him/her. A false familiarity builds up. We may make a joke, thinking the person on the other end will know it’s a joke, but the person takes the joke as an insult instead, being unable to read our tone or posture.

Red gave us the perfect example of this phenomenon last night. She discussed a poster who portrays himself as the opposite of what he is in order to get a rise out of others. My husband was suspicious of his comments, thinking maybe the poster was doing this, but he wasn’t sure, so decided not to engage him.

Meeting chat posters last night brought humanity – a physical humanity – to those present. It’s not about words on a screen (sometimes very angry words); it’s about feeling the fullness of a person behind the words, which tempers the emotions.

One man, who was born in South Africa and conscripted into the South African military, where he served on border patrol, has an interesting take on immigration. He feels that it should happen in a slow and individual fashion, rather than en masse. He is now a U.S. citizen, so he understands immigration on a personal level. With insight into his history, those who read his chat posts on immigration will weigh his thoughts more carefully.

Like most people, I am apt to create fictions about others in my mind when I get a brief or one-sided view of them. (As a fiction writer, maybe I’m even more likely to do so.) That’s what made last night’s gathering so great. Reality can certainly be a disappointment, but, as I’ve often found, it can be way better than fiction. So it was last night. Cheers to the chatters!

For those of you who regularly comment on my blog, know that I’d eventually like to meet you in the flesh.

Who in Their Right Mind?

2007-09-30T10:45:00.000-06:00

This past Thursday was the season premiere of CSI. The final show of last season had Sara Sidle stuck under an overturned car in the desert. She looked dead. A psychopathic woman put her in this position. The season premiere, of course, picked up where the story left off. (Wouldn't it be killer if they didn't & just left us hanging?)

As I was watching, I started mentally recounting how many of the CSIs have been kidnapped or put into other nasty situations:

Nick Stokes - kidnapped and buried alive in a Plexiglas box
Gil Grissom - hunted by a psychopath
Catherine Willows - slipped a date-rape drug, wakes up in a hotel room with no memory of what happened
Greg Sanders - tries to save a person being attacked, ends up killing someone, gets sued by family

Add to this a lab explosion and other nasty job pressures and you have to start wondering, who on earth would want to go into this line of work?

FtTP - Cesar Millan + John Edward

2007-09-29T22:33:00.001-06:00

We had a friend over for dinner tonight. Within the course of our conversation, we came up with a strange idea for Frankensteining the Talent Pool - Cesar Millan, the Dog Whisperer, plus John Edward, the medium (he sees dead people). Here's the reasoning: Combining the two would allow for a medium to keep spirits in a "calm, submissive state." And if the spirits get bucky, the medium could just say, "Tsst, tsst," and put spirits in their place.

Trust me, the conversation was much funnier when we talked about it than how it's showing up here, especially because my hubby does this hilarious impression of Cesar's phrase "calm, submissive state." Here's the link for Cesar's own website. The one above is for his National Geographic show.

Tie One On

2007-09-27T16:58:00.000-06:00

I can tie a necktie in the dark with my eyes closed. Okay, so that's redundant. Either way, I can't see. The point is that I can tie a necktie without seeing. I had to do it this morning. Young Son was having class pictures taken and he wanted to wear a suit jacket and tie. His choice, not mine. Strange little boy, he is. He does not yet know how to tie a tie, so he thrust it at me while I was still in bed half asleep. I tied it and handed it back.

Where did I learn such a skill? Where any self-respecting girl learns such skills - from my dad. Back in high school wearing a tie with a boxy jacket was the thing - sort of Annie Hall - and I asked my dad to show me how to tie one properly. He showed me two different ways. I probably also borrowed the tie from him. He wasn't wearing them, but he had a bunch.

My husband doesn't wear ties, either. They strangle him. He wore one for our wedding and again for the awards banquet during the Atlanta trip. He told me he must really love me in order to put up with the noose, although I didn't make it a requirement for the Atlanta trip. He said if I bury him in a tie, he'll come back to haunt me. I don't intend to, so no worries there.

This all reminds me of a post I read on the Dangerous Intersection blog yesterday. Erich Vieth recommends that men all over America should get together and liberate themselves from neckties by having a tie-burning event. Hey, go for it. Most of us ladies gave up our girdles ages ago. (Thank God!)

FtTP - Feist + Mika

2007-09-26T17:31:00.000-06:00

Rianna has saved the day by sending me a blog post idea. Sometimes I just can't get into the mood to post something here - last night was just such a night - and it helps when I get a suggestion. I would have posted this Frankensteining the Talent Pool combo last night, but wanted to get Rianna's permission to do so first. So, here goes:

FtTP: Feist + Mika

I've discussed Mika here before. Lovely, upbeat music, he's got. I heard Feist through a commercial first and wondered who was performing. My husband looked it up and told me the name, which I promptly forgot. Then Rianna reminded me through her email last night. Feist, which sounds like it could be the name of a group, appears to be the name of a female performer. She has an ethereal sound, happy with a smidge of melancholy. Check out her 1, 2, 3, 4 on YouTube. This is the song from the commercial. I'll tell you, she and Mika could certainly have a fashion-sharing party. They both appear to enjoy dancing, too.

Thanks, Rianna!

Two Movies Watched

2007-09-24T13:20:00.000-06:00

I've heard there are some great movies out there. That's what people tell me anyway. And I wistfully reply that I'm horribly behind on movie watching. I never seem to have two hours to kill at a time. Which makes it quite amazing that I watched not one, but two movies this past weekend.

The first, recommended by a friend, was "Almost Famous," a sweet film about a 15-year-old wunderkind writer, William Miller, who is asked to write an article for Rolling Stone on an up-and-coming band called Stillwater. Frances McDormand plays the boy's mother, Elaine Miller. She's a stitch. "Don't do drugs" is her favorite piece of advice. It's priceless when she gives the what-for to the lead guitarist of the band at one point in the movie. Philip Seymour Hoffman fully inhabits the character Lester Bangs, who is a disaffected rock-n-roll writer serving as William's mentor. The film features several other well-known actors - Kate Hudson, Anna Paquin, Jimmy Fallon. Kate Hudson and Frances McDormand were nominated for Oscars for the film, and the movie won one for Best Writing, Screenplay Written Directly for the Screen. If you check it out, pay close attention to what the tour bus says while on tour, and then what is says after the airplane scene.

Okay, second film. This, too, was recommended by the same friend as above and we watched it at her house. It's called "Zeitgeist" and it should scare the shit out of any thinking person. "Zeitgeist" is labeled a documentary and it has an amateurish, made in a back bedroom quality, with lots of black and fuzzy screens backed by narration. Don't let that deter you from the message of the movie. Well, the many messages of the movie.

The first part starts with a discussion of religion, showing how the facets of Jesus' life actually showed up in many previous religions and were attributed to different gods. Another part deals with the Federal Reserve. Did you know that the Federal Reserve is a private bank? And that the U.S. government borrows its money from the Federal Reserve with interest? I didn't.

Another part looks at 9/11 and the investigation of this national tragedy. Several demolition experts appeared on the film and said that what happened to the Twin Towers and Building 7 of the World Trade Center looked just like a planned demolition. The buildings - three of them, no less - would not have come down the way they did without this being a planned demolition. There was other evidence to support this, such as the many reports of an explosion in the basement of one of the towers prior to the planes hitting. Also, Building 7 was not struck by a plane at all, but it collapsed like the others did. (How did I miss the whole Building 7 story?)

The point of the movie, according to the website, is as follows:

" Zeitgeist was created as a non-profit filmiac expression to inspire people to start looking at the world from a more critical perspective and to understand that very often things are not what the
population at large think they are."

The film's creator(s) (whoever he/she/they may be - it's not obvious from the website) also encourage people to do more research and figure things out for themselves, instead of following the powerful (or the movie) without question. It certainly has me thinking and eager to check out the facts presented. "Zeitgeist" can be downloaded from the website. Start exercising your brain's synapses.

Writing Day Success

2007-09-24T11:09:00.000-06:00

Woot! Woot! Woot! Time for the touch-down happy dance. Today's a writing day and I finally finished the ninth story in my Greenville series. I got hung up for a while on a particular part, so finishing feels great. It remains to be seen whether my writing through the glitch will be effective, or if it's complete crap and I'll have to rewrite it, but at this point, I'm done. One story left. Whew!

The Voice in My Head

2007-09-20T21:09:00.000-06:00

There are days when I feel like a head case - like I'm living solely in a mental realm without any real connection to the physical. Days when I'm having long conversations with the voice in my head. (Notice I said 'voice,' not 'voices.' There's only one in there and it's all me, baby.) I tend to slip into the mental realm when I've been on the computer too much, or when I'm tired. I was in that space yesterday, and started there today. I become aware of the sensation after a while because I start feeling off balance. There's nothing like a physical, deal-with-me-now emergency to pull me back out. Buckets of rain water to remove from a basement. What fun.

While I was thinking of the interplay between the mental and physical realms, I realized that when I was a young adult, I thought I was a very mental person, like I could live in my head and be very happy there. I was mistaken. I've never been completely mental. And I've also very much enjoyed the physical all the way along. I took gymnastics as a kid, and still enjoy dancing. As an artist, I'm drawn to creating images of the human body. Bone studies are a kick. At one time I thought I might become a naturopath and I love studying anatomy, physiology, and medicine. When it comes to writing, my stories are peppered with human physicality. (My Greenville stories have quite a number of bathroom scenes.) I'm especially interested in how the body betrays humans. There's no escaping it, this vehicle of the mental. It's how our souls play with the world.

FtTP - Richard Cheese

2007-09-19T17:38:00.000-06:00

This is super cool - a Frankensteining the Talent Pool dream come true. Richard Cheese has a spot on his website wherein readers/listeners can suggest songs for him to "swankify." Of course I couldn't pass up the opportunity. I suggested he swankify Soft Cell's "Tainted Love" and something, anything from Dave Matthews Band. I narrowed it down to four, though - "I Did It," "What Would You Say," "Halloween," and "Louisiana Bayou." Let the swankification begin. Now I'll have to wait and see if these songs are swank-worthy.

Here are a couple of other FtTPs concerning Mr. Richard Cheese.

Cheese + Micheal Buble (Buble has the sense of humor to pull this off.)

Cheese opening for the Rev. Horton Heat.

Everything goes with Cheese.

The World May Now Come to a Screeching Halt

2007-09-18T20:14:00.000-06:00

The world may now come to a screeching halt. I've discovered the Big Band sounds of Richard Cheese. I first vaguely heard Mr. Cheese this past July during an art show in which my husband's motorcycle table was on display. Someone had thrown a mixed bunch of songs (whether on CD or digital, I'm not sure) over the intercom and I was hearing strains of songs that were familiar, but not quite the way I knew them. We asked who this crazy cover artist was and got the name - Dick Cheese.

This past weekend while we were together for my sister's wedding, my brother handed my hubby a Richard Cheese CD, "Lounge Against the Machine." Mr. Cheese takes "alternative standards" - i.e. familiar songs from the disaffected youth of today - and gussies them up with a Big Band snap and swing. This particular disk has covers of U2's "Bullet the Blue Sky," the Offspring's "Come Out and Play," the Beastie Boys' "Fight for Your Right," and Radiohead's "Creep." If you've never heard Dick Cheese, you are in for a surprise. For one, he enunciates so well that you'll be able to understand lyrics you thought you'd heard before, but hadn't really because the original singers screamed and growled through them, emoting all comprehension straight out of their songs. For another, he sings swear words with such confidence that you'll laugh your ass off. I know I have. Not quite sure what I'm sitting on right now, but hey, it's worth it for the Cheese. There are other humorous touches to Cheese's songs. His version of "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails sounds like a Sesame Street tune with hints of the Peanuts appearing in the middle. His cover of the Garbage song "Only Happy When It Rains" features bits of "Singing in the Rain."

Dick Cheese isn't for the faint of art, but then what popular music by the disaffected youth of today is?

I'm going to YouTube right now and see if I can find some more Richard Cheese.

Behold! A Coffee Cup!

2007-09-17T12:33:00.000-06:00

Okay, this is my last story from Atlanta - at least for now, unless something reminds me of the trip again.

On Thursday, September 6, on the first day of the museum conference, there was a special treat planned. Cokie Roberts was due to speak right before lunch. My hubby and I were keen to hear her. I had a couple of morning sessions to attend. Hubby wasn't interested in the museum sessions, so he found a spot to sit and read in one of the hotel's public areas.

After my second morning session, my husband came into the conference room and handed me a paper coffee cup. From Starbucks, no less. I looked at it and said, "So?" And he grinned and told me the story of The Cup. He had been sitting in an area with several clusters of chairs and tables. Minding his own business. Reading. There were three people in the next cluster over, two men and a woman. He didn't pay much attention to the group, until they got up. He noticed that they had left their garbage all over the table. Upon their leaving, he recognized the woman. She was Cokie Roberts. And she'd left her coffee cup on the table. My husband, cheeky guy that he is, picked up Cokie Roberts' coffee cup. As a souvenir. To keep forever. In a shrine. With an up-light. And a picture of Cokie. The thing you have to know about my husband is that he is not impressed by fame for fame's sake. For him, this is all a laugh-riot, poking a little fun at those who take fame too seriously. So, now we have Cokie Roberts' paper coffee cup sitting on top of our kitchen cupboards. Awaiting the enshrining.

By the way, if you ever have a chance to hear Cokie speak, jump. She's witty and intelligent and fun to listen to. Gracious, too.

Evaporation of Intimidation

2007-09-17T11:58:00.000-06:00

During the last session of the museum conference, which happened on Saturday morning, I met Greg Britton, the director of the Minnesota Historical Society Press (MHS Press). The session was on building a publishing enterprise within a historical society. MHS Press puts out some gorgeous books and I'd link to their site online, but I'm getting an error when I attempt it, so I'll just link to MHS' home page instead. Anyway, they create fab books and here was the director, so I was intimidated. No idea why, really, but I sucked it up and went to meet Mr. Britton after the session was over. I had a couple of technical questions, which probably sounded lame, but I asked anyway, shaking in my shoes the whole time.

Then came time for the awards banquet and a bunch of us Minnesotans had agreed to meet outside the Grand Ballroom ahead of time. And, who should I see, but Greg Britton. I was on the verge of feeling intimidated again and then he said something about wishing he could attend the Dave Matthews Band concert that night, and suddenly the feeling of intimidation evaporated. A small commonality was all it took.

World's Longest Escalator

2007-09-17T11:43:00.000-06:00

We now return to our regularly scheduled Atlanta tourism station broadcast. I'm going to get a little post happy today and try to finish up on our Atlanta trip. Life just keeps happening, so I don't want to drag this on for too many days.

Let's turn our attention to CNN Center. On Saturday the 8th, Hubby and I had the afternoon to putter around. We had an awards banquet to attend that evening, so we couldn't do a touristy activity far away. We decided to take a tour of CNN, which is headquartered in the CNN Center in Atlanta, which was conveniently attached to our hotel. We could see part of it from a hallway on the sixth floor of the hotel. Here you see a shot of the escalator that is the beginning of the tour.

Before you enter CNN, you go through a security check, sort of like the one you go through at the airport. No one is allowed to take pictures. It's a good thing we couldn't - at least from the standpoint of the guy sleeping in the newsroom with his hands in his pants. (I'm not making this up.) It was a fine, fluff tour, with more traveling through hallways and down stairs than any hard-hitting information. The most impressive thing to us was discovering that the escalator we had traveled up - the very one you see pictured here - is the largest free-standing escalator in the world. It's five or six stories, by our estimation, and was originally built as part of a Sid & Marty Krofft theme park. (Sid & Marty Krofft of H.R. Pufnstuf, Sigmund & the Sea Monsters, and Land of the Lost fame.) That was the original purpose of the CNN Center - a theme park. It went bankrupt within five months. All that's left is the escalator, which we have had the privilege to ride.

While I'm sorry I can't give you an escalator ride, here is an online tour of CNN.

The Wedding

2007-09-17T11:14:00.000-06:00

We're back. Jeez, that's starting to be a regular sentence here at Filter & Splice. We're back. This time from my sister's wedding. She married the guy she's been living with for the past six years, which is quite something because she was never going to get married again after her first. This guy, my new brother-in-law, is totally a keeper. Sweet with my sister, fun to talk to, a real gem. We've actually had trouble calling him my sister's boyfriend over the years because he has seemed like our brother-in-law for all that time.

It's finally official, but not without some chaos first. My sister had a plan - at least I'm pretty sure she did - but she didn't communicate it to anyone prior to the wedding. Where do the tents go? How do you want them arranged? How about the table and chairs? The table for the unity candle? What time are pictures again? Where do you want the grill for the pig? The food tables? When are we eating? Are we eating? Some of us simply had to take charge and get things done. To complicate things, it was extraordinarily windy and cold that day. The bridesmaids (including me) were dressed in sleeveless gowns and we were goose-pimply and teeth-chattery.

My sister and her youngest daughter left to have their hair and makeup done on Saturday morning and didn't return until about noon. The wedding was scheduled for 2 o'clock. We had to figure all of this stuff out, plus get dressed in about 4 hours. I think it was a good thing my sister was away. She gets so stressed by these sorts of events - even when she's not the center of the activities - that she would have wound herself up into greater knots. The rest of us did what we had to do and things were pretty much ready by 2. Except Mom, who decided she had to use the bathroom at the last minute. Not a big thing, except you have to understand that we were walking a huge, bumpy, farm field distance between the second backyard, where the wedding was being held, and the house. The wedding itself went without a hitch - except for that one REALLY IMPORTANT hitch. My husband's sister performed the ceremony. She's a UCC minister, you know. My sister was gorgeous - naturally - and the groom was handsome in his tux with camo vest and hunting boots. (It was hunting opener, so only true love could have forced the hunterly guys to show up for this event.)

As soon as the wedding was over and the guests were all properly received, my sister and her husband went elsewhere for a visit with a granddaughter they rarely get to see. The wedding party changed into more sensible clothes - including a winter jacket for me - it was that cold - and we set up the food. My hubby had been roasting a pig all day, the one that my sister and her hubby had been raising for the occasion. It was delicious. Once the happy couple returned, after some prodding to get them to come to the meal, we ate. Food was followed by wedding cake, music, a bonfire, visiting, and clean-up. Then, blessed sleep.

We Interrupt This Broadcast

2007-09-14T12:03:00.000-06:00

We interrupt this regularly scheduled broadcast of the Atlanta tourism station to bring you the following announcement:

Mary's sister is getting married tomorrow. Mary is leaving today for her sister's house and won't be back for a couple of days. Blog posting suspended until then.

Have a great weekend! :)

Atlanta Botanical Gardens

2007-09-14T12:00:00.000-06:00

And now for a continuation of the Atlanta trip recap . . . .

On Friday last (a week ago), after some morning museum stuff, the Hubby and I caught the train - and then a MARTA bus - to the Atlanta Botanical Garden (ABG). The garden is on the north side of Piedmont Park. My brother suggested that we go to Piedmont Park, but when we saw there was a botanical garden, we were all over it. It was a hot, hot, hot, clear day. Good thing we had water. ABG is beautiful. There are pieces of artwork mixed in among the plants. We took lots of pictures, a few of which are above. The top picture is a sculpture tucked in along one of the walking paths. The second and third photos are of two glass pieces done by Dale Chihuly. Chihuly is a glass god. Really. If you aren't impressed by these two pieces, check out the other work on his website. His biography is worth a read, too. The green piece above is in the Conservatory near the rain forest area. When I walked in, I thought it was a real plant. Isn't it gorgeous with all the mist? That mist was a lifesaver, cooling us down after strolling through the sweaty heat outside. The fourth photo is of orchids from the orchid room. And the fifth photo? The green one is me.

After we were through at ABG, we walked around to Piedmont Park. Piedmont is HUGE! There's a pond in the park, and ball fields, and a place big enough to hold 50,000 people for a Dave Matthews Band concert. Well, if I couldn't go to the concert Saturday night, at least I could visit the park Friday and see where they were going to play. As we moved from the north part of the park to the south, we were trying to figure out where the concert would be. We ran into an area that was roped off, with signs that said that area was closed for an event. It didn't make sense. The area was rolling hills and trees - not good for a concert at all. As we continued down the road, we ran into Budweiser and ice semis and U-Haul trucks. We looked back toward the north, into an area partially hidden by trees, and saw the stage. Aha! We found the concert site. By this time, we were dragging and we'd reached the south entrance to the park, so we left and caught a bus back to town. This particular concert by DMB was a green concert. Because there is very little parking around Piedmont Park, concert-goers were encouraged to use MARTA to come to the concert. Very cool of the band to think of such things in order to reduce global warming. We used MARTA because we are cheap and lazy.

Karlos

2007-09-12T21:12:00.000-06:00

I have days worth of Atlanta observations to dole out, which means that I'm hesitating while trying to decide what to tell you about next.

Let's turn to southern hospitality. I have to say that everyone we interacted with in Atlanta was kind and helpful, from the lady who helped us purchase our Breeze passes for the MARTA train, to the concierge who recommended the restaurant Thrive, to the Italian waiter at Thrive (his name was Erjon (pronounced Aaron) - he's been in the United States three years and is in school) to the police officers who helped us with directions to the bus driver who took us to the Atlanta Botanical Garden (he told us the secret to the good life is to never go into debt - pay cash for everything) to the man who took our admission fee at the Atlanta Botanical Garden who informed us that he's seen evidence of global warming in Atlanta. Even the panhandlers were soft-spoken and helpful while attempting to pry cash out of us unsuspecting tourists.

Far and away my favorite of all was Karlos, our waiter at the Omni Hotel. We first met Karlos at a small museums luncheon on Thursday. He stood out immediately because of his skill at his job and his regal bearing. He was attentive beyond belief. If he saw anyone hesitate or look in need of something, he was immediately at the table to offer his assistance. Watching him was like watching professional ballet, he was so smooth in his movements. I did not catch his name at the small museums luncheon, but found it out later during the awards banquet on Saturday night. When Hubby and I got seated, Karlos suddenly appeared and I was so surprised and pleased to see him that I blurted out, "Oh, goody! We get you again tonight!" I was delighted to be able to watch him work again. It's pure joy to see someone perform a job so well, and especially a job as hard as waiting tables. At the end of the banquet, Hubby and I saw him clearing tables and I was determined to go shake his hand, which I did. I complimented him on his work and he said that hearing that was better than getting a tip. He asked if Hubby and I were married and when we answered in the affirmative, he asked how long. We said eighteen years and his eyes grew wide and he gave us a smile and said he hoped his upcoming marriage would last that long. He is due to get married in December. We congratulated him and wished him well. If he is anywhere near as attentive to his future wife as he was to us, his marriage will indeed be long and fruitful.

Centennial Olympic Park

2007-09-11T22:57:00.000-06:00

I'm still playing catch-up after our trip to Atlanta, so to make things easy tonight, I'm going to post more pictures. Across the street from our hotel was the Centennial Olympic Park, which as a fun fountain of spray jets that issue forth from the Olympic rings embedded into a large brick plaza. (There are memorial bricks all along the plazas and walking paths in this park.) Atlanta is hot and people are encouraged to enter this particular fountain, but not the others in the park. Unfortunately, the evening we had our camera, there were no people in the fountain. Watching little kids in it was the best. The spray jets do a variety of things - sometimes going full bore, at other times spraying in bursts or patterns. Before they blow, you can hear a hissing sound and then a phoomp! Here are photos showing several views.

The View from Room 636

2007-09-10T11:09:00.000-06:00

Lucky you! I'm going to subject you to photos from our trip to Atlanta. We stayed at the Omni Hotel at CNN Center in Room 636. I'm going to see how Blogger sticks these photos in. They look a bit wonky while I'm in the screen to write this post.

The first photo is a shot of the back side of the Omni Hotel looking straight up. I love taking photos from this sharp angle. It makes the building loom. The second is a distance shot of the hotel and CNN Center taken from the Centennial Olympic Park (more about the park in a later post). The CNN Center and Omni Hotel are connected, which may not be readily apparent from the photos. The third shot is of the view out of our room, which was on the sixth floor of the hotel. Quite a bustling intersection down below. Very touristy area.

You're not going to see this in any of my pictures, but there were cops everywhere. Cops on motorcycles. Cops on bicycles. Cops in cars. Probably because there were so many tourists and this is CNN's headquarters.

We're Back!

2007-09-09T20:15:00.000-06:00

We have returned from Atlanta. I see that yesterday was the 1-year anniversary of this here li'l ol' blog. Happy Blogday! More to follow from Atlanta.

On a Lighter Note - ATCs

2007-09-04T19:36:00.000-06:00

I couldn't very well bop off to Atlanta and leave you with that last depressing post. I've made several artist trading cards that are shown here for your viewing and meditative pleasure. The last one in the series is by Eldest Son. Ta ta for now.

Waiting for the Rapture

2007-09-03T10:37:00.000-06:00

I found three articles through Reddit yesterday that scared the bejesus out of me. Two were about the U.S. government's plans to attack Iran. One of these was a story on Daily Kos about a woman in the Navy who reported that the military has been given orders to line up their Tomahawk missiles. Unfortunately, the story seems to be gone now. It was under the heading:

Daily Kos: "We Are Going To Hit Iran. Bigtime"

Link: openthread.dailykos.com/storyonly/2007/9/1/183018/1527

The other story is at the Times Online out of London.

The third story, which has now been flagged for removal and no longer appears, was on Craigslist out of Boston. It was a set of instructions for how to survive if the United States bombs the crap out of your country. The whole thing made me want to go hide in the woods and create my own self-sustaining settlement.

What is this world coming to? Oh, wait. Let me answer that on behalf of the President. He wants us to undergo the Apocalypse so that he can have his Rapture. If this is what the Rapture is all about, count me out.

P.S. This communication is probably being monitored by our government - you know, the one that says we have all this freedom. Humph!

Atlanta on My Mind

2007-09-02T11:54:00.000-06:00

The Hubby and I are going to Atlanta this week on a work-related trip. Having gone to Portland, Oregon, two years ago, I still have in mind the airport rigamarole. That whole business scares me, what with the paranoia caused by Homeland Security. Our goal is to have only carry-on luggage. During the Portland trip my checked bag got lost and I'm not eager to experience that again. It did get delivered the next day, but what if it had gone into some black hole of lost luggage forever? I shudder to think. Each of us is allowed one carry-on piece, plus one personal item. There are all sorts of rules about what is allowed in carry-on luggage and how you're supposed to pack it. Liquids and gels under 3 ounces have to go into a plastic quart-sized baggie. Trouble is, I don't know whether all of the liquid/gel items go into one baggie, or if each goes into its own baggie. Luckily we don't have a whole lot in the way of liquid/gel items. Do solid deodorants count as a liquid? It wouldn't seem so, but does it have to go into the baggie, too? This whole thing just makes me nuts. Why doesn't the airport just require us to unpack all of our suitcases in front of security personnel and be done with it? Sure, it would cripple air travel as we know it, but wouldn't we all feel so much safer? (That's sarcasm, folks.)

Along with packing, the other thing that I tend to do before long trips is to have a mad cleaning frenzy in the house. I don't know if it's because I think I might not make it back alive, or if I simply like to come home to a clean house. I prefer the latter explanation, because the first is too morbid. Besides, I'm going to live to be well into my nineties. So there. Yesterday I cleaned our downstairs bathroom to within an inch of its life. I even scrubbed the shower, which I haven't done in ages. And by ages I don't mean to falsely imply that I cleaned it a mere two weeks ago. I mean that I haven't cleaned it in so long that I don't remember when I last did it. Hey, it's a shower. We stand in it and the sweat and filth and body odor wash down the drain.

Hubby did a bunch of cleaning, too. Vacuumed and mopped the floors, and basic tidying. He also made bread that was to die for. We had guests over last night - seven altogether - and four loaves of bread disappeared instantaneously. He made more bread today. Mmmm, mmmm. Dipped in a mixture of Roma tomatoes and basil from the herb garden, it makes a meal unto itself.

FtTP - Blue Man Group + Dave Matthews

2007-08-31T17:33:00.000-06:00

Here's a Frankensteining the Talent Pool combination that never even dawned on me. I was poking around on YouTube and found a video of the song "Sing Along" by Blue Man Group and Dave Matthews. Super cool. The combo really works.

Mind Bottling

2007-08-30T17:08:00.000-06:00

I have to share this exchange that occurred between my husband and three other people on a local newspaper's chat line.

From Hawkeye: "Earth Angel's mind is a false binary."

From Earth Angel: "No, Hawkeye, it's a true and concise combination of data sets and poetry."

From Hubby: "Mine is a true and concise combination of trivet sets and pottery."

From Ryan S: "That's mind bottling, [Hubby's online name]."

Five, Six

2007-08-29T21:25:00.000-06:00

Five, six . . . pick up sticks
Seven, eight . . . mowing's great
Nine, ten . . . paint the shed

Okay, so that's an imperfect rhyme. They're all the rage in lyrics, so I'm practicing.

As for the ditty, that's what I did this evening. Picked up sticks - we've got a gazillion oaks that like to drop branches - mowed the lawn (with the help of Hubby and Eldest Son) - and painted the shed (with Hubby's assistance, too). Shh! Don't tell anyone. We ran out of paint after painting the three public sides. The side where I chopped out the bushes and grapevines is the one that didn't get painted. Go figure.

Mother Teresa

2007-08-28T21:29:00.000-06:00

I suppose you've heard the news about Mother Teresa. You know, where a bunch of her private letters were published in a book and they reveal that her faith in God was pretty shaky. Time Magazine has a long piece on the topic, which I have not read in its entirety. Rather than believe that Mother Teresa didn't believe in God, Raymond L. Flynn, former Ambassador to the Vatican, thinks that her crisis of faith was really the work of the devil. Humph!

For what it's worth, here's my two-cents on the topic. The Catholic Church typically assigns nuns to their duties and posts. Mother Teresa worked in the slums of Calcutta, India, where she experienced the horrendous miseries of humanity. It is not clear whether the church assigned her to this position (although that is the most likely scenario), or she chose it herself. The point is that this sort of position should never be a life-long commitment. Mother Teresa was likely suffering from clinical depression from her work. We understand that soldiers need a break from the battlefield. Why would a nun not need relief from the rigors of tending to the tremendously poor? Burn-out and post traumatic stress disorder, along with depression, are the likely result. The Catholic Church should have stepped in and ordered Mother Teresa to take a break - assigned her elsewhere for a while - whether she wanted to leave Calcutta, or not. Somehow, the fact that she stuck with her work without becoming a complete wreck shows a mental fortitude that most of us can't touch. If for no other reason than this, she should be sainted.

More Rain - Torrential Even

2007-08-28T21:02:00.000-06:00

Yesterday the Hubby and I were sans two kids. Only Eldest Son was home, the others having sleepovers. We decided to spend a little quality time with the boy, who will soon be off to the hinterlands on his own (unless he decides to move back home as a young adult). We took Eldest to a local state park for a walk. Normally we stay on the trails, but we noticed that the creek bed was down to dry stones for the most part and thought we'd take the challenge to see how far up-creek we could go. We were headed for a particular metal bridge in the park and we made it to within sight distance of the bridge before having to crawl up the bank to the trail. Hubby and I have never seen the creek so dry. Obviously, we're in a drought. And then it rained last night. Don't know if it fully alleviated the drought, but it was coming down in sheets. They call such rains torrential. Yep. That about says it. Time to mow the grass again.

Minnehaha Falls

2007-08-27T00:41:00.000-06:00

Go away for a day and you come back to find that I've gone away for a day. The whole family, including cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents, went to Minnehaha Falls yesterday. We were celebrating the grandparents' wedding anniversary. Seems they used to do some courtin' around about these falls. You know, back in the day. (Back in the day when a body could walk behind the falls, according to Grandpa.)

We brought a picnic lunch and had a fabulous day. Perfect weather and all that. I was smart (for once) and brought the camera. Between the children and I, we took over 100 pictures. What you see above is three of them. The top one, taken by moi, is of the falls from a nice three-quarters angle. The bottom two, taken by Daughter, is of the statue of Hiawatha (he's the guy) and Minnehaha. I knew nothing of the story of these two, other than there was a poem called "The Song of Hiawatha." My sister-in-law told me that they had to memorize this Henry Wadsworth Longfellow poem in school. Hubby and I missed out, but the whole thing is online. One portion of it talks about Hiawatha wooing Minnehaha. The statue is an illustration of this section:

Pleasant was the journey homeward,
Through interminable forests,
Over meadow, over mountain,
Over river, hill, and hollow.
Short it seemed to Hiawatha,
Though they journeyed very slowly,
Though his pace he checked and slackened
To the steps of Laughing Water.: Over wide and rushing rivers
In his arms he bore the maiden;
Light he thought her as a feather,
As the plume upon his head-gear;
Cleared the tangled pathway for her,
Bent aside the swaying branches,
Made at night a lodge of branches,
And a bed with boughs of hemlock,
And a fire before the doorway
With the dry cones of the pine-tree.

While looking at the statue, I commented to Daughter that it looks as though Hiawatha is going to pitch Minnehaha into the creek, rather than be all chivalrous with her. What do you think?

The Birds Are Repurposing Our Crap

2007-08-25T20:27:00.000-06:00

Check out this nest I found while removing brush from beside our shed. Don't worry. There were no eggs in it. As you can see, the birds that made this nest have woven in quite a bit of plastic. I'd say about half the material here is human garbage. Does the plastic keep the nest dryer? Do you think the birds know it?

Bifurcated Weasel

2007-08-25T20:21:00.000-06:00

Bifurcated weasel. Yes sir, this was what was going through my head as I bush-whacked my way through the brush and grape vines beside our shed. Normally I'm not a bush-whacking sort of gal, but there was a purpose behind this willful destruction of nature. I have to paint the shed. We (Hubby and I) built it years ago, but ran out of steam before the painting part.

There's nothing like hard physical labor to get you high on endorphins. It's good at emptying the mind of useless chatter, too, except for that bifurcated weasel thing. Don't know where that came from, but there it was, cycling through my head as I removed what felt like a small forest.

The exhibit photos above, in case you can't tell, are the Shed Before, Shed After, and Giant Pile of Removed Brush. No painting done, though. The brush was enough for one day.

Painter Laureate

2007-08-24T09:24:00.000-06:00

The synapses of great minds fire together. Or maybe it's just because we've been married so long that we can read each other's minds - Marital ESP. After telling hubby about my post concerning artistic movements yesterday, he said that he'd been thinking about visual artists. This due to seeing an Andy Warhol poster in a restaurant. He got to wondering why there seem to be no visual artists since about the 1980s who've become household names. Artists that most people in the nation would recognize. There was Keith Haring, with his funky colorful cartoons of people, and Robert Mapplethorpe, most remembered for his crucifix in a jar of urine. Chuck Close, of giant photo-realism head fame, is still producing, but you don't hear much about him.

The trouble seems to be that visual artists (not including photographers) aren't making a splash of themselves, either promoting themselves in bold ways or in having others promote them in bold ways. The artists are out there; we're just not hearing about them. You know, writers have poet laureates to bring attention to writers on a state or national level. Why have we no painter laureates, or digital art laureates?

Can you think of any currently-producing visual artist that has become a household name?

What Happened to Art Movements?

2007-08-23T18:55:00.000-06:00

I'm reading a thoughtful book on the history of development in America called "The Geography of Nowhere" by James Howard Kunstler. It was recommended by an online acquaintance. (Thanks, M.N.!) I'll blog more specifically about the book later, but one thing that came up while reading is that there used to be all of these movements in art and architecture. Of course I remember studying various artistic movements while in college - cubism, the Renaissance, pointillism, impressionism, art deco, neoclassicism, modernism, pop art, post-modernism. This got me to wondering . . . what artistic movements are we in the middle of today? Certainly we have a whole new computer-generated movement led by our technological wonders. Has anyone bothered to name whatever we're in now?

Kangaroo Archaeology

2007-08-23T18:47:00.000-06:00

I ran across an odd little article in the newspaper while at work. The news item was about a kangaroo that had died at our local zoo. The odd thing was that the kangaroo was buried somewhere in the surrounding countryside. So then, what happens in a few hundred years or so, if those bones survive, and someone digs them up? Are they going to assume that kangaroos roamed these parts?

Rambling

2007-08-21T22:19:00.000-06:00

Where to start?

My husband. He got an 'A' and and 'A+' for grades for his second half of summer session. The 'A' would've been and 'A+' too, except his professor didn't know she could give that for a grade. That professor, who's been a huge supporter of Erik in his return to college, officially got her doctorate today. Hubby went to her dissertation defense today and she passed. Yippee for her! Yippee for Hubby!

Hubby and I went shopping all day yesterday with Hubby's parents. Shopping takes a lot of thinking and a lot of walking. It's exhausting. Hubby's parents treated us to outfits for our upcoming trip to Atlanta. Aren't they sweet? Hubby looks fabulous in a suit, even though he isn't used to one and doesn't think so. (Trust me, he is stunning, knock-your-socks-off gorgeous. I don't think I'm biased on this in the least.) I got a couple of cute dresses and two smart, splashy jackets to go with them - all from Coldwater Creek. My biggest sticking point is shoes. I think I'm going to end up taking three pairs - THREE PAIRS! - with me on the trip. Good heavens, that's a lot of shoes for one trip. I'd like to get by with two, but I have to have the right combination of color, style, and comfort for the particular outfits. (Listen to me! Kvetching about fashion! Something strange is going on. I never kvetch about fashion.)

In other news, the children are getting ready to go back to school soon. Eldest Son finished his summer job last Friday. We went out to eat to celebrate. Daughter is back to practicing flute and readjusting her bedtime. She and Eldest get their schedules tomorrow. Youngest Son is probably not too keen on going back, but that's because he's never quite fit the system. We have to nurse him through it. He's still not happy that he no longer has recess now that he's in middle school. He has quite the cadre of friends and recess was their time to pal around.

I'd like to welcome Joanne of Poppy Seed Heart back to the blogosphere. She has posted a most thorough description of her baby's birth experience. So heart-warming.

Literature Map

2007-08-20T09:20:00.000-06:00

A friend sent a link to the Literature-Map. Type in the name of your favorite author and the site with show you a map of other authors you might like. Pretty interesting, but not every author is listed.

Saving Fish from Drowning

2007-08-20T09:16:00.000-06:00

If you're looking for a great book, I've got a suggestion. Try Amy Tan's "Saving Fish from Drowning." Her book, which is fiction, starts with a note to the reader that explains the genesis for the story. Seems Amy was caught in a rain storm in Manhattan one day and ducked into the American Society for Psychical Research for protection. While there she did some research on automatic writing, finding that a woman named Karen from California had channeled a woman named Bibi Chen, someone Amy was actually familiar with. Amy interviewed Karen and read the writings Bibi had sent through her. Bibi mentioned within her writings the disappearance of eleven tourists in Burma. Just after the note to readers, Amy had placed an article from the newspaper into her book that concerns these tourists. From this ingenious premise, Amy constructed her story. She has written it so well (having done her research beyond that of talking to Karen and reading the channeled writings of Bibi) that it reads like nonfiction. I kept asking myself whether this or that part of the story was true. Where did Amy take artistic license? When you can't tell, that's the mark of an excellent writer.

P.S. The title of the book is from a small parable that appears after the copyright page.

Blown Away

2007-08-18T14:57:00.000-06:00

I hate mixing post topics, but before I get down to the business at hand, I must say that it is raining here. A nice drizzly rain. After the last thunderous downpour, this is our first real all-day-gray rainy day. Amazingly, the crunchy brown grass is turning green and growing again. Doesn't take much, does it?

Okay, now that the weather is out of the way . . . .

For most of my life I've been concerned about my voice, specifically my singing voice. A couple of negative experiences while growing up have caused me to doubt the sound of my singing voice. I'm pretty sure it's crap and I won't sing in front of anyone (except babies, and periodically my kids and husband) because I'm afraid of how my voice will be received. Frankly, I don't need any more knocks where this subject is concerned. As a young adult, I wouldn't even sing alone. I sing alone now all the time (especially in the car), so I've improved on that account. Obviously God isn't offended or I would've been struck dead by now. (Don't you love how non-judgmental God is? Not like us crazy humans.) In comparison, I've had no trouble accepting my speaking voice. I used to be in speech, the competitive kind, in middle school and I placed pretty well. Also, there was no cringing going on when I spoke, so I never developed a complex about it.

Ironically, when I really started writing, I discovered that writers were very concerned about voice in their work. I was too. How do you create a distinctive writing voice such that others know your work upon reading it? My writing voice has become pretty clear over the years. With that, I've branched into attempting other sorts of effects with my writing. I've tried writing about myself in third-person, which is a kick. I've tried poetry and humor. I've tried using fiction techniques (storytelling and description) in nonfiction. I've invented new words. One thing I'm still working on is how to use words in a musical way. How to write as though the words can be sung.

Having not been encouraged to be musical while growing up, the whole music thing is foreign to me. Well, not completely foreign, but it's not second nature. (I had a family full of crazy artists, not musicians, so art was encouraged up to my eyeballs, which leaves me grateful beyond belief.) So then, I've been puzzling about how to pair music with lyrics. (One of my writers group buddies thinks I'm over-thinking this, and he's probably right.)

My husband is a musical genius, although he won't agree with me on this. He has dabbled with guitar since he was a teenager and can pick out many songs by ear. He can also compose amazing riffs and hooks on guitar. He does this as a hobby, as relaxation, so it can take him a long time to develop a song. He's been working on one for the past few months, refining and adding to it, and I've been listening to him play wondering how to write lyrics for the song. It's catchy and very pretty, sounding like a love song of sorts, but with a hint of longing. As I was listening yesterday, suddenly the words "emerald heart" came into my head, followed by several other lines as the chorus. I was blown away. Holy cow! My first lyrics to an actual song! Whoop! Whoop!

(Okay, maybe not my first. I made up a song I'd sing to Youngest Son when he was a baby. I'd hold him up facing the mirror after his bath and sing something with the words bouncing, baby, boy, bubbles, and bath, but, Lord help me, I can't for the life of me remember the thing. I also once wrote a song - music and lyrics - while dreaming, but it was gone when I woke.)

I'm so excited! My first lyrics that I've written down and remember. Now I've just got to get beyond one stanza.

The Universe Is Taunting Me

2007-08-17T11:46:00.000-06:00

The Universe is taunting me. I've decided I want to work with the Dave Matthews Band (DMB) on a project. How's that for ambitious? And practically impossible? So, of course, that's what I want to do. I, who never goes anywhere, went to St. Paul in July for a digitization workshop at the Minnesota Historical Society. (Forgive me for repeating myself. I’ve already posted about this.) My hotel was the Holiday Inn River Centre, just down the hill a couple blocks away. Kitty-corner from the hotel is the Excel Energy Center. When I got home from three days worth of workshop, I went online and discovered that DMB had played a private concert for Best Buy in the Excel Energy Center a mere two days before I was in St. Paul.

It gets better. Hubby and I are going to Atlanta September 5 - 9 for an annual meeting/conference/awards banquet related to my work. My brother, who lived in Atlanta for 9 months, suggested I visit the Piedmont Park area of the city. He said it was refurbished by members of the gay community and it's a congenial neighborhood. (Don’t you just love how gays refurbish and revitalize blighted areas? I realize that not all gays are good with interior and exterior design, but enough of them are that the generalization sticks, and we’re all the better for their work.) Okay, fine, add a walk through Piedmont Park to the gotta do while in Atlanta list. So I go online last night and check the DMB website. There's a new announcement posted, a contest to win tickets to a DMB/Allman Brothers concert in Atlanta on September 8 - the night of the awards banquet. Guess where it's being held? Piedmont Park. The Universe is totally fucking with me, I tell you.

Graffiti Train

2007-08-16T21:25:00.000-06:00

I was waiting for a train this morning and enjoying the well-executed graffiti on the boxcars. And I wondered . . . instead of fighting graffiti artists, why don't the companies that own railroad cars hire them to completely decorate a fleet of boxcars? With the traditional speed of graffiti artists, the boxcars would be done in no time, plus it'd be much harder for other graffiti artists to tag them. Also, the trains would be killer cool to watch.

The IT Seduction

2007-08-16T21:16:00.000-06:00

I've been gone from blogging for a couple of days. Tuesday evening saw a reception at my workplace that I planned and two of my kids were involved with, so I very well couldn't have skipped out on that. Last night my husband and I attended a birthday party for a new friend. Regardless of how chatty I appear to be here, I'm quite shy upon first meeting people and this party had lots of people I didn't know. As it turns out, I spoke in depth with four people I met at the party - a personal first for me and ever so cool.

In any case, due to the two evening events, I was simply too tired to blog. What's poopy about this is that I miss blogging, and ache to get back to it. Mind you, I've only been blogging for about a year. My evening computer routine goes something like this: When I can find a free computer (which is quite difficult in this household - two computers + a gamer + a college student + an IMing daughter + a Young Son who checks out YouTube = when does Mom get to blog?), I jump on and first check my emails and respond to those needing responses. I have several accounts to check. Then, if I have a blog post idea, I'll do that. It can take anywhere from ten minutes to an hour, depending on the topic and the post length. Next I'll check the blogs I'm following in Bloglines. Sometimes I leave comments, so that eats up some time. Then I'll check email again. By the time I've done these few online tasks, two-to-three hours have flashed by. Then I'm sick of looking at a computer screen.

Whatever did I do with my time before we had high-speed internet and I had a blog? I had to think about this because I don't really do less housework and I seem to be getting plenty of creative time. I think that I'm not watching as much television in the evening. I'm not much of a couch potato anyway. Even when the TV is on, I'm always flitting around the house. I catch a bunch of my news online now, whereas I used to watch Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert and the local evening news. I've also noticed that I'm going to bed later, but that could just be summer in Minnesota.

I had to secretly cheer for Neil Gaiman's productivity when he lost power due to a storm this past weekend. Without the seduction of the computer, he was able to write. Pen, paper and candlelight, anyone?

Over 1,000 Words

2007-08-13T15:03:00.000-06:00

After having taken on a different writing project last Monday, I didn't have a chance to work on a story in the short story series I'm working on. I made up for it today, though. I added over 1,000 words to my story. Now, for some authors that might be peanuts as far as a word count goes. For me, though, it's quite good. Normally I log 500 to 700 words on a good day. Understand that I edit as I go, which is supposed to be a mortal sin in writing circles. Call me a sinner, I guess, but once I'm done with a story, there's very little editing left to do. (Although I'm sure some editors would beg to differ. To which I say, "Write your own story!) Once this story is done, I have only one left to go in the series (which I've already started). Today's accomplishment moves me closer to my goal.

All the Rage

2007-08-12T15:16:00.000-06:00

Stephanie Meyer's Twight series is all the rage. I should know, my children and their friends are reading the books and twittering on about this vampire romance. Daughter's friends introduced her to the first book, "Twilight." The second book in the series is "New Moon," and the third, "Eclipse," was just released. On Friday, Daughter's friend (and said friend's mommy) took her to a book signing in Woodbury, Minnesota. There were over 500 people there and Stephanie was willing to sign as many copies of her books as people wanted. Daughter introduced Young Son to the books and he couldn't stand that she and her friends kept talking about them without him having read them. So he set about reading "Twilight," quickly taking in a couple of hundred pages in a couple of days. This is quite something for Young Son because he prefers books with images and romance is just yuck. He decided he wanted a signed copy of "Eclipse," too. Daughter took her copy and his (both purchased by Daughter's friend's mommy) and had them signed. If I ever get time, I'll have to see what all the fuss is about.

Hallelujah! Rain!

2007-08-12T15:06:00.000-06:00

Overnight, between August 10 and 11, we were treated to a royal pounding - rain! If you remember correctly, my family had been scattered to the four winds. All were off doing various things - Daughter at a book signing, Sons at sleepovers, Husband fishing. The only one I expect home was Hubby. He called at about 9:00 p.m. saying he would be back to town for a couple more hours. I cleaned and did other household type things. While I was running from room-to-room, I stepped into our dark bedroom and saw a flash through the window - lightning. Pretty soon, I could hardly believe my ears - rain pitter-pattering on the roof. Glory be! But that was not the end. I went to bed. Hubby still wasn't home and I was getting worried. I half fell asleep, then woke at 12:30 a.m. Still no husband, but plenty of lightning, thunder and rain. I hoped that Hubby had taken a key because I wasn't sure I'd hear him if he pounded on the door. He was home by 1:30-ish, key in hand. It was still raining. I woke again at 3:30 a.m. and peeked out. The rain was coming in sheets. By morning it was gone, but it was good while it lasted.

Caterpillar

2007-08-10T18:51:00.000-06:00

I am alone.

My family scattered to the four winds.

Sounds so ominous, but it's not really. Everyone is off doing something they enjoy. I'm blogging, checking my emails, reading the various blogs I follow, getting hungry. Will feed myself shortly, so don't worry your pretty little head on my account.

I went for a walk today during a work break. My work location is very near a state park and it's simply glorious to head out for a woodland stroll and warm myself up from the chill of air conditioning. As I was making my way back, I saw a huge light, but vibrant, green caterpillar on the ground, making its way across the path. It had to be between two and three inches long and it was fat. I tried to get it to crawl up on a twig so I could get a better look, but it winced and folded in half when I touched it with the twig. Why am I telling you this? No cosmic reason. Just an observation, an interesting interaction.

Parking Lot Mayhem

2007-08-09T22:24:00.000-06:00

Have you ever noticed how drivers and pedestrians act in parking lots? Almost as if this giant sheet of pavement isn't a road way at all. Today I entered a parking lot and a woman walked in front of me, gazing vaguely off in the distance. Not once did she turn to see me. Not once did she seem to be paying attention to the fact that a car was on her tail. Drivers in parking lots are even worse. They go the wrong way down the lanes, don't signal, cut other drivers off. It's mayhem out there in the asphalt jungle. Be careful!

Why Are We?

2007-08-09T22:20:00.000-06:00

Why are we so willing to follow people who are bat shit crazy? Are we scared of the blustery, bold silver-back gorillas in the jungle, pounding their chests and rushing at us? When we encounter them, are we so busy questioning our own sanity that we can't figure out how to deal with their obvious insanity? Let me tell you, if you are questioning your sanity in the face of someone having a freak attack, I can guarantee that you are perfectly sane and you should find a way to subdue the wacko in the room. Call in the police . . . round up Congress . . . do something . . . anything!

More Random Thoughts

2007-08-08T22:26:00.000-06:00

It's getting late, almost bedtime. Eldest Son just headed off to Sleepy Land. Daughter and Youngest Son will soon follow, as will I and Hubby because it's just that time of day. My head is a blank for blogging tonight. It happens sometimes, but if I start writing, things usually come. Checking the blogs I read through Bloglines also helps. Check out this post from Witty Writer Gal on her blog Not Available on MySpace. Aptly, it's about having blog block.

Kevin, of Copyrightings fame, has started a blog called Bumblin' Along. He's posted a great poem by Shel Silverstein that's definitely worth a read.

I'm calling it a day. Goodnight, all.

Random Thoughts

2007-08-07T20:38:00.000-06:00

I was marveling at our children tonight. Every one of them has the skill of self-occupancy. They can do things alone and enjoy their own company. That's a great skill, one that will come in handy as they move into adulthood.

Hubby and I rode the motorcycle out to the house of friends. It's been mighty warm here today, so I was wearing (am still wearing, in fact) a shorty, skirty shorts outfit with wide legs. Try wearing that on a motorcycle sometime. Weeeeee! Wind! I had to hold it down to keep it from going all Marilyn Monroe on me. As we were approaching our friends' house, we passed under a giant agricultural sprinkler that was hitting the road. We got a little wet, but the wind dried us off within the space of a mile. Cool.

My Queendom for a Meme

2007-08-06T16:12:00.000-06:00

It is Monday and I haven't written a word on my latest Greenville story. Shucks, anyway! But I was involved with writing and creating art for another project, so I have been productive. Maybe I can add a few sentences to my story later tonight. In any case, today's post is another meme. I was tagged for this (after some minor groveling) by Reeva Dubois, so you must go check out his answers to the meme.

A Harmless Meme . . .

10 Firsts

First best friend - Amy
First screen name - mosiewarner
First pet name - Edward - a black cat my sister gave me when I went off to college - I couldn't take him with me, though.
First piercing - one of my two ears - I forget which
First crush - Middle School - C.L.
First CD - Are you kidding? Let's try vinyl albums, baby. That'd be Mickey Mouse Club or Sean Cassidy. I got them around the same time.
First school - Lincoln - funny/tragic story about that - when walking to school one day, I saw a dead blackbird and felt sorry for it, so I put it in my school bag and brought it home later - my mom about died when I showed her.
First house location - We moved a lot before I was in kindergarten, so I don't remember. I was born while we were living in St. Cloud and I do have a vivid memory of a storm from when I was 6 months old.
First kiss - My darling husband
First car - My own? Volkswagon Quantum

9 Lasts

Last time you smoked - Never, never, never! Yuck! Unless you count second-hand smoke - a couple days ago.
Last food you ate - Grapes - red ones, three of them. I didn't peel them though.
Last car ride - to grocery store and Mom's house this morning
Last movie you watched - My Big Fat Greek Wedding - required for my hubby's Sociology class
Last phone call - My mom's landlord
Last CD you listened to - Dave Matthews Band - Everyday - it's in right now, last song
Last bubble bath you took - Don't take them for fear of irritation down there
Last song you listened to - Everyday - see above for last CD
Last words you said - I say so many, I can't remember specifically - hubby and I did discuss dinner a bit ago

8 Have You Evers

Dated a best friend - absolutely! It's hubby! My bestest friend in the whoooooole world.
Been arrested - nope
Been on TV - Does local access channel count? If so, yes.
Eaten sushi - yep - a dinner treat once from my brother - mmm, mmm, good
Cheated on your b/f or g/f - nope
Been on a blind date - nope
Been out of the country - yep, if you count Canada as being out of the country
Been in love - yep - see that dated best friend entry

7 Things You Are Wearing

2 shoes
2 socks
shirt
undies
shorts

6 Things You've Done Today

1. Washed dishes
2. Taken Mom on errands
3. Answered several phone calls
4. Started a new blog
5. Created a banner for that blog - yeah! art projects!
6. Kissed my hubby

5 Favorite Things (not in any order)

1. My hubby
2. My three children
3. Reading
4. Writing
5. The music of Dave Matthews Band

4 People You Most Trust

1. My hubby
2. My children
3. My siblings
4. My in-laws
(Yes, I cheated. When you count them up, that's more than four.)

3 Things You Want to Do Before You Die

1. Write a book that gets made into a movie
2. Write a song
3. Work on a project with the Dave Matthews Band - because it sounds like an impossible goal

2 Choices

Vanilla or chocolate - chocolate
Hugs or Kisses - Yes, please

1 Person You Want to See Right Now

My hubby - I think I'll wander down to the living room and give him a kiss.

Time for tagging. You know the routine. If you've got a blog, use it. If not, use the comments. I tag O.W., A.K., Rianna, Jody, if she's reading, and Kim at Knit Whimsies. I'd tag Joanne at Poppy Seed Heart, but she's a little busy with her baby right now. We're still thinking of you, Joanne!

A Mom's Gotta Do What a Mom's Gotta Do

2007-08-05T16:01:00.000-06:00

This morning I wandered up to Young Son's room, ostensibly to retrieve his dirty laundry. Several hours later, I finally brought the laundry down to the basement and threw it in the washing machine.

I got sidetracked, waylaid by the maid that lives inside my body. Flotsam and jetsam builds up in Young Son's room until I simply can't stand it anymore. He is a collector from the word go, which doesn't help in keeping his room tidy. There's too much stuff to put in too little space - and he's got the biggest bedroom in the house. Understand that I was only going to neaten things up a bit, make sure the garbage was thrown away, sweep around the edges. Nothing too serious. Hah! Young Son's room was repainted a year or two ago, but we still hadn't hung any art on the walls. That changed today. He loves all things Asian, so we hung his giant Asian fan, several Asian calendars, his "Wisdom" brush painting picture, and his gentle orange Asian field hat. They look fabulous against the Zen Mist (light yellow-green) walls. There's another picture of brush painting in a black frame that we hung on his small red wall. Very cool.

In the middle of all the straightening and hanging, Daughter came into the room. She is keen on interior design and she thought the room might look better with the furniture rearranged. She drew up a sketchy floor plan and Young Son was agreeable, so the slight cleaning became a major moving project. By the time we were finished - well past lunchtime, according to my stomach - Young Son was amazed at the cleanliness and the space we had created. While I normally leave the kids' rooms in the care of my kids, sometimes a Mom's gotta do what a Mom's gotta do.

By the way, Young Son did help with all of this. While I may have a crazy maid living inside me, I don't have "Doormat" printed on my forehead.

My Sister, the Revolutionary

2007-08-03T21:48:00.000-06:00

I took a vacation day today in order to try on dresses. Let me 'xplain. My sister is getting married in September and she has asked me to be her matron (gack! that word! so old!) of honor. I'm honored to be asked. Of course, this means that I need a dress. She bought her wedding dress a couple of months ago and has been after me to come try on dresses so that she has this part of the wedding figured out. We've been so busy this summer that I've had trouble finding time, so I finally just took a day off. My sister also asked my daughter to be one of the bridesmaids, so she had to try on dresses too.

We did the dress thing and went back to my sister's house. She and her fiance (a really fabulous, kind guy) have a house in the country, where they've been moving more deeply into farming. It started with a garden and progressed to chickens and now pigs. I can't believe how much pig poop stinks. Yech! They have three pigs, Grizzly, Priscilla, and Wilbur. Grizzly has another name - W.D. It stands for Wedding Dinner. (Alright, go ahead and get all Charlotte's Web on me.) When we were finished looking over the pigs and chickens, making special note of the one-legged chicken who had accidentally stepped into a trap, we went to the garden.

I love my sister's garden. She's got a wide variety of veggies, including broccoli, spinach, carrots, peas, beans, potatoes, tomatoes, peppers, corn, lettuce, the ubiquitous zucchini, and kohlrabi. She also has berries and watermelon, and I'm probably missing some other things. Most years the garden is a riot of production and we can wander through picking what we like. It's a personal farmer's market; it's all organic and they don't water it. In the spirit of my Yard and Patio Revolutionaries post, I asked if they saved the seeds. They do and they've found that the seeds they've saved actually work better than store-bought ones. I asked if they thought the seeds had evolved to deal with their soil and growing conditions and they thought maybe so. How cool is that? My sister and her soon-to-be husband are already Yard Revolutionaries. My sister also does her own canning, which is one of those old-fashioned tasks I previously mentioned. A dying art, really, but not in my sister's household.

We Can't Even Trust the Ground Beneath Our Feet

2007-08-01T20:40:00.000-06:00

The I-35W bridge over the Mississippi River in the Twin Cities of Minneapolis/St. Paul has collapsed. This is not how Minnesota wants to make national news. We first heard at 6:25 p.m. CST, while watching our local news - WCCO. At that time, Jason DeRusha, one of WCCO's reporters, broke in with a special report. It was obvious that he was shaken. He was calling in about the bridge collapse, but there wasn't any video from the scene at that point. We switched channels to the other Twin Cities stations - KARE 11 and KSTP Channel 5 - and saw the video. Holy crap! The entire bridge is flattened, with a portion in the river. The reports say that between 30 and 50 vehicles were involved. The earliest reports concentrated on a school bus, which had kids ages 8-14 returning from a field trip on it. One of the eyewitnesses had actually survived the accident - his vehicle fell around 50 feet - and he climbed out and was helping the kids out of the bus. Other eyewitnesses say that the bridge collapsed from both ends following a rumble. The news coverage seems to be revolving around the river section of the bridge, but from the video it appears that the bridge has collapsed over a couple of other sections of road. Hard to tell.

Hubby was on a chat forum when we first got the news and a lady from Portland, Oregon, had already heard. We were wondering how, because it was a local story. Hubby quickly checked MSNBC and CNN and both were covering the story.

Things are still being sorted out. Emergency vehicles are everywhere. There's been one confirmed death, from drowning. We still don't know, and probably won't for a while, if anyone was under the bridge.

An hour after the bridge collapse, which occurred at 6:09 p.m., the news reported that the FBI will be investigating to rule out terrorism, although after one of the newscasters read a portion of a 2006 report on the structural condition of the bridge, it is most likely that the cause of the collapse was structural damage. The bridge was having repair work done at the time, supposedly on the road deck. Hubby and I were hoping there weren't any construction workers underneath the bridge.

8: 35-8:38 p.m. - Wait . . . this just in . . . another section of the collapsed road was shown. This section had crushed a train. Also, there is a report that there were no construction workers underneath the bridge.

When a tragedy of this magnitude strikes this close to home, it's especially heart-wrenching. Our daughter was in the Twin Cities yesterday and today, but thankfully wasn't on I-35. We're sending our good wishes to all of those involved and are hoping that fatalities are minimal.

Correction (August 3, 2007): The bridge collapsed at 6:05 p.m.

Nothing Special

2007-07-31T18:20:00.000-06:00

I'm reading "Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind" by Shunryu Suzuki a little at a time. You have to do that with Buddhist teachings or they don't stick. One of the sections is called "Nothing Special." Suzuki says,

"As long as we are alive, we are always doing something. But as long as you think, "I am doing this," or "I have to do this," or "I must attain something special," you are actually not doing anything. When you give up, when you no longer want something, then you do something. When there is no gaining idea in what you do, then you do something." (page 47)

Suzuki continues by saying that if you practice sitting zazen without any thought to reaching enlightenment, eventually you will reach enlightenment and it will be nothing special. "Before you attain it, it is something wonderful, but after you obtain it, it is nothing special." (page 47)

A light bulb went on in my head when I read this. Have you noticed that really talented people seem to shrug off their talent? They have reached the place of "nothing special." When they wanted to acquire that talent, it was as if they wanted to get hold of a precious gem - a most special thing, but once they got it, huh! Big deal! Do you do this with your own talents, those things you know how to do so well you could practically do them in your sleep? (I'm not just speaking of an artistic talent here, but of any sort of talent - cooking, accounting, shopping for bargains, taking care of animals, etc.) Do you think they are "nothing special"? That is good, on the one hand. It means you have done something. And it is good on the other hand (all that is is good in Buddhism) because there are others who admire your talent as something special. Eventually, if they decide to practice whatever that something special is, they will come to a point where it is nothing special.

Yard and Patio Revolutionaries

2007-07-29T13:15:00.000-06:00

If there is such a thing as reincarnation, I like to think I was part of the French Resistance during World War II - sneaking around gumming up the works in order to cripple a hateful regime.

As I mentioned before in my Seed Savers post, according to Terry Glavin's "The Sixth Extinction," ten corporations own about half of all the world's seed stocks. I do believe this is a regime that needs overthrowing, and we might be able to do it in a sneaky way. Do you have a yard? If so, why not allow your lawn to become diverse? Quit killing the plants that you call weeds. That's a start. How about planting a few heirloom varieties in your flower beds and gardens?

Now, here's where you can get subversive. Don't worry if it takes time to accomplish this next step. What you want to do is make your yard an unkempt haven for both plants and critters. This is subversive because there will be local ordinances and picky-icky neighbors who want you to keep your yard neat for their comfort. To go about this without raising hackles, you'll have to pretend that you are doing this in an orderly and purposeful fashion. Plant high-growing shrubs or bushes around the perimeter of your property. That, or build a fence with some pass-through areas for animals. You're trying to build a haven, not a prison. The shrubs or fence are an effort to keep up the appearance of neatness, which should appease the rest of the locals. Once the barrier is established, let most of your lawn go. Plant whatever you like - vegetables, flowers, trees, fruit, etc. If you prefer a controlled look, go ahead and landscape, although you'll want to leave some areas open to spontaneity. Use as many heirloom varieties as you like and try to go organic. Pick stuff that's appropriate to your region and doesn't need a lot of care. We're going for self-sustaining biological diversity. If you like a wild "natural" look, this will be easier. Just plant stuff and let it go. That's our preference and thankfully, most of our yard already has a perimeter of bushes that allow for us to let things go. We still have to mow the lawn periodically (when it rains), but we don't spend time weeding and feeding it. Because of this, all sorts of plant varieties have volunteered to mix it up with the grass.

If you really want to be subversive, see if you can change your local lawn ordinance. Have it allow for natural prairie plantings and other unkempt areas. Use the environment and global warming as your excuse. Point to other cities - like Portland, Oregon - that allow for mixed vegetation in yards.

For those without a yard, you can become a revolutionary by planting heirloom varieties in pots on your patio or in your apartment or on your roof, or wherever. Collect the seeds and plant more, or store the seeds. Put your plants outside, if possible, so they can have some fresh air and access to pollinators.

All we need to do is convince people that the aesthetic of a large expanse of uniform turf is outmoded and not good for the environment, and pretty soon plant diversity will return to the masses. Vive le resistance!

Sitting Zazen on a Motorcycle

2007-07-28T19:25:00.000-06:00

Hubby and I went for a motorcycle ride today. The ride was a benefit for a nonprofit organization. Benefit rides are quite popular among motorcyclists, with so many being scheduled during pleasant weather that you could go on one every single weekend through the summer if you like. When hubby and I first starting riding motorcycle, I felt so European on the back of the bike. Now that we've been riding for several years, it feels like I'm sitting zazen. When I'm on the back of a bike, I can't get out of the position I've willingly put myself in. I can barely move and my muscles cramp up. I stretch as much as I can, but mostly I have to just live with the discomfort. (Ever get an itchy ear when wearing a full face helmet?) Couple the usual physical discomfort with today's stickety-stinkin' heat and you've got the makings of a great zazen practice.

The mind rolls with the miles . . . look at the cows . . . watch out for the road kill . . . someone piled rocks from their farm field in a long pile by some trees . . . just like in Shawshank Redemption . . . ice cream . . . if I could create a Ben & Jerry's flavor, what would it be . . . Mary, Mary, quite contrary . . . Mary, Mary, Quite Raspberry . . . Crocodile Hunter . . . not the young one, Steve Irwin, the other one, Crocodile Dundee . . . didn't he marry his co-star after the movies . . . oh, we just crossed a river . . . check out the sunflowers . . . what am I going to blog about . . . Ben & Jerry's . . . sitting zazen on a motorcycle . . . God, my shoulders ache . . . .

By the end of the ride, the mind empties and you can't think of anything anymore. The wind just keeps rushing by.

If You Could . . .

2007-07-28T18:54:00.000-06:00

If you could create your own Ben & Jerry's ice cream flavor, what would it be?

Mine would be "Mary, Mary, Quite Raspberry." It'd consist of raspberry flavored ice cream or sherbet (if B & J's makes such a thing) and dark chocolate candies shaped like tiny raspberries, with a bonus of raspberry goo inside the chocolate.

Your turn. What would your flavor be? And don't forget to come up with a funky name.

Good Question

2007-07-27T18:28:00.000-06:00

WCCO, one of the major Twin Cities television stations, has a segment with reporter Ben Tracy called "Good Question." Viewers are invited to email their good questions and Ben tries to find the answers, which are broadcast on the ten o'clock news. The kids and I are always thinking of good questions, but thus far hadn't submitted any . . . until today. I was calling someone long distance yesterday and wondered, why do we have to dial a "1" before long distance phone numbers? So, I submitted my question to Ben Tracy. We'll see if I get a response.

It's a Car Wash, Ladies & Gentlemen!

2007-07-27T18:15:00.000-06:00

It was cooler and less humid today, after yesterday's rain. It made for a good day for a car wash, but this didn't happen of my own self-motivated accord. When I returned from dropping my daughter off for a birthday party, I found my Lovin' Spouseful out scrubbing his motorcycle. He had a bucket full of sudsy water and a hose at the ready. The suds were the result of Armor All Car Wash Concentrate. It's an eye irritant, but it smells mighty fine. I didn't experience the eye irritant effects first-hand; it just says so on the bottle, so I'll take their word for it. The washing of the motorcycle looked so fun, I simply had to grab the bucket, brush and hose and have at my Mazda. Oooh! Shiny! And most of the bug guts are now gone off the front. Bonus!

Dump, Dump, Dump

2007-07-26T22:08:00.000-06:00

We had rain today. Honest to goodness rain. A massive five-to-ten minute deluge. Dump, dump, dump, done. Young Son kindly ran out to the car to close my windows. He came back soaked, but nonetheless pleased with his mission.

Trophic Cascade

2007-07-25T19:40:00.000-06:00

Trophic cascade. Such a lovely term for a not-so-lovely phenomenon. A trophic cascade is a domino effect in the natural world, wherein if one part of an ecosystem is taken away, the others around it eventually fail. According to "The Sixth Extinction" by Terry Glavin, deforestation has been a major cause of trophic cascades around the world. Once the trees are gone, the plants and animals dependent upon the trees tend to go extinct if they can't find another area to move into. Trouble is that it's not only the plants and animals that suffer, but human beings, too. Once a trophic cascade really gets going, its eventual outcome is to take human culture with it as well.

Political upheaval can also cause a trophic cascade. Witness Iraq. Did you know that Iraqi farmers are not allowed to save agricultural seeds from year to year? Or that the U.S. government ordered Iraqi seed stocks to be destroyed during the war? Neither did I, until someone mentioned it at my writers group. I looked it up. Unfortunately, 'tis true under Order 81 of The Coalition Provisional Authority. There is a more intelligible discussion of the issue at CorpWatch. While I had no idea this was going on, I've been well aware of the cultural destruction in Iraq, having heard quite a bit about the looting of Iraqi museums.

According to Glavin, the current extinction cycle, the sixth in the earth's history that we're aware of, is by far the most destructive of all the extinction cycles because we have twice the average biological diversity of any other period on earth. The other extinctions were the Ordovician, Devonian, Permian (most destructive before this one), Triassic, and Cretaceous, which took the dinosaurs.

Although the entire subject is incredibly depressing if you're paying attention (and we all should be paying attention, because our necks are on the line), Glavin's book is not depressing, but quite hopeful. Along with pointing out the complex interplay between species and the causes of extinction, he regularly discusses the ways that humans have attempted to stem the bleed of species extinctions, in some cases even reversing extinctions. Bald eagles, which I rarely ever saw in central Minnesota as a child, now often fly over the area where I work. We've even seen flocks of them in area fields. They've made such a comeback that they've been removed from the Endangered Species list. Wild turkeys are also returning in force, as are timber wolves.

Human beings can be a wondrous force for change, if we put our minds to it.

Seed Savers

2007-07-24T19:43:00.000-06:00

I have to apologize for yesterday's post. It lacks a certain clarity that I like to convey, almost as though my brain was sitting in a sock while I was writing it. That wasn't the case, really. It was more a matter of thought overwhelm - too many ideas coming out at once and, because I was blogging, not writing an essay, I didn't take the time to properly stitch them all together. Sorry about that.

The RUSS method of artistic resource conservation wasn't even on my mind when I first started blogging. It just popped out, but it's pretty good.

Now, to continue this discussion of getting an ancient hobby. I've been reading "The Sixth Extinction" by Terry Glavin and have finished the chapter "An Apple Is a Kind of Rose," wherein Glavin discusses how ten major corporations have control of around half of the world's seed reservoir. That means that ten corporations control most of our major agricultural crops. They own patents on them and will legally pursue anyone who attempts to create new plants from their inventions. They've modified plants so that when they grow, they won't produce seeds, or it takes the application of the company's herbicides in order to get the plants to grow. This might not be such an issue - companies owning certain plant hybrids - except that "wild" seeds and plants are going extinct at a rapid rate and wild seeds are humanity's hedge against problems with the hybrids.

Glavin mentions that there are a number of people who've been so disturbed by the situation that they've started seed banks. One of these is Kent Wheatly in Decorah, Iowa, with his Seed Savers Exchange, which he began in 1975. (Glavin doesn't mention Diane Ott Wheatly's role in co-founding Seed Savers Exchange.) Seed saving appears to be one of those little underground activities - in some countries it's illegal to do this - like complimentary medicine and organic farming (at least in my neck of the woods). For that reason, it would make a great hobby, one that might be the saving grace of humanity in the future. If each of us chose one or two heirloom varieties of plants to grow in our yards or in pots in our homes, voila! We'd not only have a new pastime, we'd be helping to preserve an essential part of nature. Now, if we could just change the zoning ordinances in our towns so that they'd be more tolerant of wild plantings, rather than perfectly manicured, mostly useless grass, then we'd be onto something.

Coincidence ALERT: Yesterday a writer friend and I were emailing back and forth and she mentioned that she was researching farming and agricultural practices for a novel she's writing. Lo, and behold, she said that she had found information on seed saving and heirloom varieties of plants. We had come across the same topic at about the same time through two different routes.

Get a Hobby, But Make It Ancient

2007-07-23T11:09:00.000-06:00

After Live Earth, I was going to suggest that everyone in the over-developed world get rid of a hobby - just one. Hobbies use resources and most of us start hobbies with good intentions of keeping them up. We purchase all the proper stuff to take part in our chosen hobby, plus a bunch of storage containers to keep everything organized. After a short while, the hobby is forgotten. We're too busy; it was too hard, etc. etc. And the stuff for our hobby sits - wasted resources. Better it sit than go to a landfill, however it's even better that it go to someone who will use it.

The other trouble with hobbies from a resources standpoint is that most of them involve making things - turning one thing, or a variety of things, into another. Behold! CREATION!

Being an artist, I understand the thrill of creation. It's addictive. It's also caused no end of introspection along the lines of: How many wall hangings & paintings & useless knick-knacks does this planet need? I've long been attracted to the idea of the art of utility - making useful things beautiful. I also like small art, which uses fewer resources because of size. Many artists in general are scavengers, turning junk into art and building the concept of recycling into their work. My husband's motorcycle table is a great example. Then, there's slow art - where it might take years to complete one work. Think of all of these suggestions as the RUSS method of artistic resource conservation. R - ecycled art, U - seful art, S - mall art, S - low art.

On a personal level, this use of resources issue has caused me to cut back on my artistic creation and contributed somewhat to my increase in writing. The creativity has to come out somehow and writing, at its most essential (read: without computer), is not more than pen to paper, which results in an infinite number of potential creative outcomes.

Lose a hobby was my suggestion after Live Earth. Better yet, don't start one unless you're darn sure it's one you're going to stick with or you're sure you'll die if you don't have this outlet. (Don't, however, let this stop you from taking a class or several in order to try something out. Just don't spend money on resources you're not going to use.)

After reading Terry Glavin's "The Sixth Extinction," I've changed my mind. Get a hobby, but make it an ancient one. According to Pat Mooney, who is quoted in Glavin's book, "Our generation may be the first in the history of the world to lose more knowledge than we gain." (pg. 222)

Not only are we losing biological diversity in the form of plants and animals, we are also losing cultural diversity, which includes language and ways of life. The only way we're going to keep some of these things alive is to learn what our forebears knew and keep transmitting it to interested youngsters.

Show of hands. How many people tat anymore? How many of you speak Ojibwe? Can you turn flax into linen? Brew a batch of beer? Play a children's game from two generations ago? These are things that were still commonly being done only a very short while ago. Think of all the cultural activities we've already lost that are from before that time.

If you're interested in finding an ancient hobby, check out your local museum. Small museums are a great repository of books and other information that can lead you to what came before. Sometimes, they'll even contain artifacts that relate to that old hobby, so you can see what tools were used. If you decide to adopt an ancient hobby, make sure to share what you learn, either by writing or teaching. We've got information to save.

Weather Report

2007-07-22T21:43:00.000-06:00

It's heating up here in central Minnesota. We woke to thunder and a gray sky this morning, desperately hoping it would rain. It's so dry here that the grass is a crunchy blonde crewcut. Sharp, too. I've been watering three beds - one with basil, one with lilies, and one with a mix of lilies, violets, chives and hostas. We don't bother with the grass. It's gone dormant, so we'd just be wasting water on America's weed of choice. We haven't had to mow in a month, that's how parched it is.

Well, our hopes were dashed. Not a drop of rain. I sort of suspected as much, which is why I watered this morning. The thunder stopped, the clouds cleared, and the sun was relentlessly sunny. The humidity is rising, but it wasn't terribly uncomfortable outside. A light breeze and no insects made for great sitting-out-on-the-porch-reading-and-knitting weather.

For your viewing pleasure, I've included a photo of one of our lilies. They smell heavenly. Oh, to have a scratch-n-sniff computer.

Call Me Sneezy

2007-07-21T16:04:00.000-06:00

Just call me Sneezy. Okay, I'm not particularly sneezy at the moment, but I was pretty close earlier this afternoon. I cleaned our bedroom, top to bottom, side to side, including under the bed. Eldest Son helped me flip the mattress. We'll be having Happy Clean Sheet Day in a short while, when I remake the bed. Let me tell you, there are two things that don't mix - cat hair and faux velvet. Actually, the trouble is that they mix too well. Why are the backs of some photo frames and the bags for cell phones and MP3 players so often made of black faux velvet? I am not impressed with this material. It does nothing to add to the value of the goods. It just collects dust and cat hair and causes no end of aggravation in cleaning. Down with faux velvet!

Divine Secrets

2007-07-21T13:29:00.001-06:00

Call me late to the party. I just finished reading "Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood," which was all the rage a number of years back. I see from the copyright page that the hardcover version of this book, which is by Rebecca Wells, came out in 1996. Okay, so I'm over ten years too late, well beyond the major hoopla. So sue me.

For those who are in my same good company, the story is about the strained relationship between a mother, Vivi, and her daughter, Sidda. Vivi has a core group of friends, Caro, Necie, and Teensy (the stripper), all of whom make up a group called the Ya-Yas. The characters are well developed. There's nice suspense concerning the specific problems between Vivi and Sidda. The book opens with Sidda deciding that she can't get married to her fiance because she doesn't know how to love. She traces that inability back to Vivi, who sends her a scrapbook called the "Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. " Cute title. The book lagged in a few spots. I sometimes found myself saying, "Get on with it. Get back to the problems between Vivi and Sidda." Other than that, it's worth the read to watch how the characters act and what they say. I have a sudden urge to say "yall" and "dahlin" from the book.

How long do you think it'll be before I get to the seventh Potter book? (Especially seeing as how I haven't read books five and six?)

Fruit or Chocolate?

2007-07-19T19:47:00.000-06:00

I've discovered that there are two types of people in the world - those who like fruit-flavored candy and those who like chocolate. Given a choice between Skittles, or lemon drops, or orange jelly slices, or Swedish Fish, and a milk chocolate bar, I'll take the fruit-flavored option 8 times out of 10. If you were to offer me a chocolate covered cherry, or a raspberry/chocolate confection, I'm all there, but mostly because of the fruit.

Which are you? A fruit nut or a chocolate nut? (You can hold the nuts if you like.)

It's a Hoot!

2007-07-18T19:51:00.000-06:00

Young Son Number Two and I went to the library last night. While there I found a book - well, duh! - rather, an unexpected book that's an absolute riot. I was laughing so hard while reading it that I was almost crying, except that I couldn't breathe. I had to walk away periodically so that I could regain my composure and catch my breath. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. I won't keep you in suspense any longer. This knee-slapping guffaw of a book is called "The Museum of Kitschy Stitches: A Gallery of Notorious Knits" by Stitchy McYarnpants (a.k.a. Debbie Brisson). Stitchy collects all sorts of old fiber craft patterns, and boy has she found some doozies in her collection. We've all seen them . . . those godawful knitting or crocheting patterns, many in wacky colors and acrylic fibers, that no one would be caught dead wearing. In "The Museum of Kitschy Stitches," photos of a bunch of these loud fashion don'ts are featured with Stitchy's utterly smart and wickedly funny commentary. And the hilarity doesn't end there. Stitchy has a blog!

Eastern Standard Tribe

2007-07-16T11:22:00.000-06:00

Have you heard the song "You Made Me Love You"? The next line goes "I didn't want to do it, I didn't want to do it." The song has been going through my head in relation to a particular issue, only I'd say that love is too strong a word, here. Like is more like it.

I recently read Cory Doctorow's book "Eastern Standard Tribe" and tried very hard not to like it. Very hard. I was predisposing myself not to like it because of something Doctorow wrote in his BoingBoing blog. He was talking about the National Spy Museum's no-photography policy and said:

"Christ this stuff bugs me, especially from museums. These places are supposed to be about preserving and disseminating human culture -- but no taking any pictures or we might not be able to sell as many picture postcards!"

Having worked in a museum for eleven years, I took umbrage with the statement and wrote to Doctorow to explain exactly why museums have no-photography policies. The short version is that we can't expose our collections to the flash of multiple cameras. Some museums allow for the use of cameras with the flash off, but I can understand a no-photography-period policy, as well. If you give some people an inch, they'll take a mile and if you read the BoingBoing post linked above, you'll see that someone took photos at the National Spy Museum with a camera phone. There's another reason for the no-photo policy. Museums collect items that are still under copyright. By law, we are supposed to uphold that copyright. From Doctorow's response back to me, it's obvious that he sees any explanation of museum restrictions to be nothing more than wimpy excuses. We're to give everything away, by golly, and that's that.

That's the short version of why I was predisposed not to like Doctorow's book. Childish, yes. But, I had wanted to read something of Doctorow's prior to the little tiff and decided it was time to get another view of the man. I checked out "Eastern Standard Tribe" and thought, "Well, mister, just show me what you've got." Despite my best intentions, I liked the book. It's got a great premise. With the digital age, people start grouping up with those of similar interest, no matter where they are, no matter what the time zone. Art, the main character, is from the Eastern Standard Tribe, and it's his job to screw up the inner workings of companies in other time zones. The tale swings around, battering poor Art with treachery. The opening scene is of him stuck on a roof with a pencil in his nose, ready to push it into his brain. The story is a bit choppy at first, but stick with it. It's part of the overall flow and it'll make sense after a while. Once in a while I found myself fogging off after some new tech idea was introduced, thinking how could this be pushed further? That's probably just me, though.

So, then, this was the thing I was waffling about. Liked the book, didn't care for the blog statement. Had to think about how to delicately tie the two together. Now the chips can fall where they may.

Observations from Away

2007-07-15T14:02:00.000-06:00

I don't know how this works for you, but every time I go to an unfamiliar place, my observational abilities increase. I notice all sorts of things that I would not pay any attention to if I was in that place on a regular basis. I spent three days at a workshop at the Minnesota Historical Society's History Center (MHS) in St. Paul. The workshop was on learning to properly digitize museum collections. Leigh Grinstead, our fearless leader, taught us about Dublin Core and meta-data and best practices and loads of other gobbledygook that I'll spare you from here. Suffice it to say that it was interesting and informative and I now know enough to know I still have a lot to learn.

While at MHS, workshop participants were given a chance to go through the exhibits, which were interesting to me not just from a content perspective, but from a design and construction perspective. I had three favorites. One was the exhibit on our State Capitol. The Capitol can be seen from a large window in the central hall, where the exhibit is located. MHS has kindly provided those tourist viewer glasses/binoculars so that visitors can peek at the details. People always talk about the golden horses and the golden peak on the Capitol, but I was thrilled to find that there are eagles encircling the dome - looking very much like friendly gargoyles. The Capitol was designed by Minnesota architect Cass Gilbert, who not only designed the building, but the furnishings as well.

Another favorite exhibit was Camera Ojibwe, which is a compliment to a new book by historian Bruce White. The book is called "We Are at Home: Pictures of the Ojibwe People". The exhibit, which was mounted in three months, if I'm remembering correctly, shows photographs of the Ojibwe in posed shots and in every day shots. There are also bandolier bags and other related artifacts on display in the exhibit. It will only be up until early August, so if this interests you, high-tail it to MHS.

The other exhibit I loved, especially from a holy-crap, how'd they do that perspective, was Open House: If These Walls Could Talk, an exhibit that shows the history of one particular St. Paul house and the people who lived there. The exhibit is set up like a house, with a parlor, bedroom, bathroom, den, attic, living room, basement, hallways, and garden. As you walk through, there are all sorts of interactive features that enhance your knowledge about the house. There's a bed that has the words "Sit Here" shining on it. When you sit, the voice of a woman who lived in the house explains how the bed kept breaking - and then the bed breaks. Whomp! While you're on it. The really impressive part of the exhibit was the basement, which can be seen through a small window near the floor. When you look in, you see a staircase with boots and a thermos on the stairs, and below, a record player and suitcases and what looks like a child's scooter/bike. Here's the kicker. If this were truly a basement, the room would be hanging down in the MHS library below. It isn't. Can you guess how they accomplished this room? This exhibit recently won an award from the American Association for State and Local History and I'd like to think that basement had a little something to do with it.

On my last day of the workshop, I decided to walk around the outside of the History Center, which is gorgeous inside, but I'd already seen much of the inside and the day was too beautiful not to enjoy. When I got to John Ireland Boulevard, I saw the Capitol, and then looked over my shoulder and saw St. Paul's Cathedral. The two buildings are ornate and domed and book-end the boulevard most purposefully. I asked Marcia Anderson, Head of Museum Collections of MHS, which building was constructed first. She said that the Capitol was and indicated that the church didn't want to be outdone as far as view and grandeur, so they built the cathedral. Marcia assisted in mounting the Camera Ojibwe exhibit and has been studying Ojibwe bandolier bags and other handcrafts for years. She's very knowledgeable and gracious.

Obviously, there was a lot to observe at MHS, but the observations didn't end there. On the evening of July 11, there was a reception for an art show called Reworks at The Minneapolis Foundation in the IDS Center. My husband's motorcycle table was accepted into this show of art made from recycled stuff. I'm so proud! His table fit right into the scheme of the office, so much so that we caught people setting their glasses on it. The food was to die for and all organic; we were introduced to the music of Ron Cheese; and there were loads of people in attendance. It was fun to be the wife of an artist, rather than to be the artist myself for a change.

And then there was the hotel . . . the Holiday Inn River Centre, which is a few blocks down the hill from MHS, kitty-corner from the Excel Energy Center. Have you ever noticed that you can feel entirely alone in a hotel, not seeing a soul on your floor while coming and going? You can hear 'em, but you can't see 'em. Spooky. Also, there's the issue of bathroom tile. After having tiled our own bathroom and kitchen, I'm forever checking out tile jobs. Hotel bathrooms are notorious for having poorly executed tile jobs, where tiles are cut unevenly, or don't match up quite right at the corners.

On the opposite end of the block from the hotel is Cossetta's restaurant, which serves pizza and Italian food. I ate a chicken penne and asparagus salad the first night, and my husband and I had pizza the second night. Delish! In between the hotel and Cossetta's is this quirky pop culture shop called Maharaja's. Music, smokes, posters, incense, a replica of Han Solo in carbonite (can be yours for only $4999 plus tax!), Buddha statues, KISS dolls, and a black light room filled with fuzzy posters are just a few of the wondrous things that can be found at Maharaja's. While there, I found an old Dave Matthews Band album - real vinyl in the 12" square jacket, folks. I couldn't check the price because it was in a locked cabinet behind a 45 rpm record. When the hubby and I walked back to the hotel from Maharaja's, I looked at the Excel Energy Center and wondered in a half-formed fashion if Dave Matthews Band had ever played there. While online yesterday, playing catch-up, I found a little item on Weekly Dave Speak that was oh so coincidental. Turns out that DMB had played a private concert at the Excel a mere two days before I was ensconced in the River Centre with a lovely view of St. Paul's Cathedral. How's that for weird?

Okay, one more thing and I'll give you a rest. While we (me, the hubby, our children, and hubby's folks and sister) were waiting in the IDS Center for the art show to begin, one of the children had to use the bathroom. There is not a single public restroom in the public areas of the IDS Center. We had to go through the Skyway to the next building to use the restrooms in Barnes and Noble. While I was waiting for the restroom brigade, I found a book on artist trading cards, little hand-made one-of-a-kind cards that artists make and trade with each other. I was taken by the form and now must simply try my hand at it.

. . . Must . . . Blog

2007-07-14T17:47:00.000-06:00

. . . must . . . blog. Imagine me, crawling across a desert, looking for water. I'm parched. That's how much I missed blogging these past few days. Unfortunately, I can't do a full post today as I am playing catch-up from having been gone for three days. You know, pay the bills, do laundry, clean the house, shop for household sundries, catch up my daily journal, blow a gasket over an over-due notice from the bank for a measly nine cents. That's right, nine cents! Which I had paid, but the teller overlooked on my check. How's that for lousy? And I can't do anything about it until the bank opens Monday. So, that's where I'm at. I'll post more tomorrow.

Gone, Briefly

2007-07-10T20:10:00.000-06:00

Heading to a workshop tomorrow. Stop.

Will be gone for three days. Stop.

Away from Filter & Splice. Stop.

Back then. Stop.

Take care of the blogosphere for me. Stop.

Sniping

2007-07-09T12:54:00.000-06:00

Let the sniping begin. Aside from the fact that sniping is a great word sound-wise, the intent behind it isn't so nice. Petty, petty, petty.

I was coasting around in the blogosphere seeing what people had to say about Live Earth. A couple of people (Sierra Faith & Rick from LiveJournal) reminded the entire world about the dumping of sewage from a Dave Matthews Band tour bus onto a boat full of tourists and into the Chicago River in 2004. They suggested that because of the incident, Dave Matthews Band should not have been allowed to perform at Live Earth. Hmm.

Well, it certainly was a dramatic incident, what with poop and all, and people do love to point fingers and snipe at others, especially when those others are rich and famous. However, neither poster bothered to mentioned the eventual outcome of the investigation. First and foremost, none of the five members of Dave Matthews Band was on the bus at the time, so they didn't do the flushing. Their bus driver did and he was convicted of the act. The band took responsibility for the incident, ponying up at least $100,000 in order to clean up the river. I tried to find the result of the Illinois Attorney General's lawsuit against the band, but couldn't. That $100,000, which was certainly warranted, was given before legal proceedings began. How many giganto polluting corporations can you point to who willingly clean up their waste? So, then, we have an unfortunate incident, made even more unfortunate by the fact that the Dave Matthews Band has a conscience, as is evidenced by their other charitable and environmental works. (Apparently people like to hold that whole conscience thing against them. For shame!) If we leaned on other polluters so mightily, our world would be a much cleaner place.

For their attempt to quickly rectify the Chicago River incident, I think Dave Matthews Band was a perfect choice for Live Earth. Do we have conscience enough to quickly remedy our personal roles in global warming?

For the full story, here are some other links that refer to the Chicago River incident:

The Scout Report
Local6.com
NBC5.com
BBC
abc7Chicago.com (linked above - sentencing of driver)

Waffling & Writing

2007-07-08T10:40:00.000-06:00

I'm waffling. Waffling, waffling. There's something I want to blog about, but I'm trying to decide if I want to put up with the potential ramifications. Therefore, I must think on it some more.

How's that for leaving you hanging?

So, here's what I'll talk about instead. I'm reading Sol Stein's "Stein on Writing" book, flipping through and randomly reading chapters. I've read plenty of how-to writing books during my existence on earth, yet no matter how many I read, each one teaches me a new trick or two. Sol's book is no different.

Chapter 7 - a short chapter - is called "The Actors Studio Method for Developing Drama in Plots." In short, when writing, pretend that each of your characters got a different script for the story and have them "act" from the script they've been given. This is actually the way life works. We're all running around with our own mental scripts that have been built from our personalities, life events, and etc., and conflict comes when our script doesn't mesh with someone else's.

In Sol's chapter on writing love scenes (chapter 18), he says, "It's the author's job to keep [lovers] apart as long as possible." (pg. 169) This creates tension in the story for the reader. Don't make the love scene inevitable, or straight-forward, or mechanical. That's boring. Shoot for arousing the head rather than the genitals (especially for your female readers).

An exercise that Sol suggest, which is more lengthy in the book than I'll present here, is the shouting from the rooftop exercise. (pg. 210-211) Pretend you're on a rooftop and you've got enough time to say only one thing to the rest of the world. What would you say? It can only be one sentence. Sol continues the exercise by having writers rework their original statement, but I'm not going to do that. Instead, I'll tell you what I wrote:

"Do not forget to wonder."

Now it's your turn. What would you say? What would your last words be in shouting from a rooftop?