Alex got me pretty good last time, taking my backpack, and me not noticing for a day and a half. But I waited, and came up with something I'm darn proud of. I would take some key things out of Al's room, and replace them with random and worthless little things. The part of the plan that took the longest to develop was Alex leaving the house while I was at home, for more than a hour. This Friday night was that night. Nick gave me a bit of a hand taking some pictures of before, and then he pooped out, so the afters aren't quite as fun. The pictures do this justice, like my bad description cannot. They still make me laugh. The captions explain things pretty well.`The one thing I didn't get a picture of was the scooter, which got replaced with hand towel. The great part was when Alex came home, once the initial shock hit him, was prompting him to notice all the other things that were gone. My favorite was offering to play darts with him. The look on his face the whole time was great. By the end of 5 minutes, Alex was almost laughing. It was great!! Enjoy!
Just in case you missed the link, here's the full link to the photos.
http://picasaweb.google.com/Iskid2astop/PrankingAlex#
Night! Thanks for reading.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
San Francisco
I find the hardest part of blogging is getting started. These first few sentences before I get to any content are completely worthless, but still so key. With that fine introduction, I'll just jump right in to my story. HAHA!
Cami (one of my faithful readers) had recently turned 16, and had planned a great celebration: a good group of friends, spending a day in San Francisco, culminating with Wicked, the hit musical. Unfortunately, her parents friends didn't see this as a good idea, at least not for their kid. Except mine. Mine let me do all kinds of semi-crazy things. (Thanks guys! Love ya!) Which would explain why I was awake at 4:50 a.m. on a Tuesday, on purpose.
The basic plan was as follows-I would catch a train from San Jose to Sacramento, where I would meet her (even her parents weren't wild about the idea of her riding the train into San Francisco alone), and then we would ride into San Francisco together, and there wasn't really much of a plan aside from ending up at the Orpheum Theater in time for Wicked at 8:00 p.m. I thought this plan (or lack of) was great, but afterwards, talking with Cami, I learned she was actually pretty nervous, particularly when it came to anything to do with navigation or transportation. (Sorry!)
If I may stray away from the narrative for a second, traveling with someone else is fascinating. The first draft of this post, just a few days after the trip, was written on the bus. By myself. Alone. I usually travel alone, which is fine with me, and my experience of traveling with other people is limited to pretty short trips with my family, and going to Africa with two other dudes. The first one was easy, and the second one, I was the least responsible person on the trip, so I really didn't have a lot to be worried about. This time, I was the responsible one, and I had more than a few things to be keeping track of, and worrying about. I kinda like it with just me, and if I mess up, I'm the only one who suffers or gets hurt. Additionally, when I ride alone, I don't need to worry about talking with anyone. Usually I say about 10 words during the course of a 1.5 hour ride. "Hey, how's it going? Day pass please. (50 miles later) Have a good weekend!" When you ride with someone, you need to talk with them, at least a little. Sitting in silence for 2 hours is fine for one person, two people, it gets awkward. Having to do all this talking led to an interesting revelation for me, and my thought process. I notice a lot of random, worthless, absurd little details, and when I'm by myself, those just stay in my head. The really good ones get Tweeted, but those are rare, so a lot of details go into the recycle bin of life. When I'm trying to have a coherent conversation, noticing that giant white bird, probably a snowy egret, what were we talking about? Its really not pretty. A lot of little non sequiters came tumbling out. It was really interesting. I had to work on filtering some of the less relevant bytes out, and staying on topic.
The train ride was fairly uneventful, though the switches were so cold they had to be thrown by hand, which slowed things down. The redeeming factor, besides the company on the second half of the ride, was a wonderfully drunk 20-something, a few seats behind us, on the other side of the aisle. (To go back to the topic of the previous paragraph, it was odd having to share seats with someone I knew. Cami was sitting kitty-corner from me. I've sat next to tons of people, but never people I know.) Back to the drunk guy. He was in the usual gangsta punk outfit. Hat, baggy pants, black shirt with generic gangsta graphics, black jacket, and basketball shoes. He was listening to rap on his headphones, at a volume he probably thought was appropriate, but was turning his headphones into little, distorted boomboxes. Sitting 5 feet away, I could hear the general beat, and some of the lyrics. Actually, I could hear a lot of the lyrics, because he was rapping along. Not well, it wasn't like he was doing a good job, which I think bothered me more than the fact of his rapping. I have heard other people rapping along with music on their headphones or cellphones, and if they do a decent job, I can tolerate that. At one point, he took a phone call, which I will do my best to reproduce his end of the conversation. "What's up? Not much, just riding the train into San Francisco, ***** drunk. Nah, its pretty ******* boring. Just singing along with my boys. There's a bunch of white kids staring at me. I know, HAHA! Its gonna be a ******* great day! Later, fool!" Two things here. That noise was not singing, and we were not a bunch of white kids, we were two. Not a bunch. Two is a couple of white kids. And then he got off, and walked away. IPTP can be so anti-climatic.
We then got on a BART train from Emeryville to San Francisco. This is where the traveling got fun, but a little challenging. (Again, Cami, I apologize, and I feel bad you got stressed out.) I would like to give a shout-out to the kind African-American man who corrected Cami's misconception that she is as tall as I am, when obviously, I'm taller. Thanks dude! I owe you one! The train ride itself was pretty quiet. A lot of white-collar, business-y people, not really singing out loud, or carrying chickens in their backpacks.
A lot of the time in SF was walking around, which was interesting, seeing all the interesting people, things, and buildings. A casual chess tournament, several street musicians, some unique older buildings, and great little stores.
A big part of the trip was eating. I love eating. I could spend at least a week going from eating, to doing things that make me hungry, like swimming, playing football, cooking (oddly enough), and then back to more eating. Lunch was in Chinatown, and delicious. I was starved! Won-ton soup and chicken-rice-noodle-thing, both of which were delicious! I loved the decor of the restaurant. Lots of cool pieces of Asian art on the walls, nice ambiance, but the funny parts were the pillars, and the fishtanks. The pillars, which were more like support beams, there to hold up the building. The funny part was the aesthetic of the pillars. They were classic Greek pillars, and just struck me as totally out of place. There were also fishtanks, with live fish, clams, and other various seafood in there, for easy ordering. Awesome! The fish were just kind of hanging out, waiting for their eventual purchase, and shortly thereafter, consumption. Feels poetically fatalist. Did those fish have a choice? Did they have any way to escape? Just patiently doomed. Dinner was at a Greek place around the corner from the Orpheum, and pretty yum. Hummus, salad, some crazy awesome bread. They even had pepperocini, my favorite! Later, the leftover container spilled all over my backpack. Perhaps the most interesting my bag has ever smelled. I loved it, and the experience of eating a fairly nice meal, with almost adult conversation, and no one asking for help cutting their meat was great. I eat alone frequently, but eating with someone, that's just great.
I also loved seeing the public transit system San Francisco has. It was pretty amazing. There were gaps, and the schedule slowed down after 5:00, but it was still rocking. The streetcars were a odd mix of cars saved from destruction from Italy, France, and somewhere else. It took me 3 rides to figure out why there were a bunch of signs in Italian. Its not even like San Francisco is known for a big Italian population.
Despite the genuine vibe of Chinatown, which reminded me of Liberia a little, a lot of San Francsico, at least the part we were in, had the obvious vibe of tourist town. Starbucks every few blocks, "cute specialist shops" (looking at you, Sock Shop!), T-shirt emporiums, all labeled with some version of "I was in San Francisco". Is it like you could forget? If you had a forgettable experience, an over-priced T-shirt isn't gonna change that. A lot of the stores could have been picked up, and moved to some other tourist town, and been fine. Pier 39 was the pinnacle of this fake, expensive, generic San Francisco. And there were people who looked like they were having a great time! Good for them.
The play itself was amazing. As a bit of a word nut, there were some great lines in there. Really good writing, and the lyrics were...award-worthy. I can see why this play won so many critic's plaudits. One really interesting detail I noticed that simultainously helped sell the character of the Wicked Witch of West, and make her seem like an actress was the way she walked. Slightly leaning forward, always about to stumble, clomping her feet, face in front, like a battering ram. It was a great impression of someone who walks like that, but, it felt a little forced. The audience was hilarious. I was one of the few heterosexuals who wasn't on an "official" date, and probably one of the least-well dressed. What can I say? I don't think blazers travel well in backpacks.
I've now lost any narrative form, and will attempt to hit a few more stories. Walking along the beach was fun, if a little intimidating. I preferred the safety of high-traffic areas, which, is actually funny, because, alone, I would have been seeking just such a place. There was a lot of garbage, which was partially understandable, due to a large storm, but the carrot was unacceptable. Once I figure out how to get pictures from my phone to computer, I'll post the carrot we found in the beach. There were also crazy people swimming. There are things we call "crazy", that aren't really, but this was toeing the line. That water had to be about 40 degrees, if not colder. And they were swimming, on purpose!
I would also like to recognize the one time Cami did well with directional stuff. She thought we were supposed to head one direct down a block, and I thought we were supposed to go the other way. (To be fair to myself, she could have just guessed.) She was right, I admit, but, I did rather well, if I may say so, with navigating for the rest of the day. I had us get off the BART three blocks away from Union Square, and at the station that had the visitor's center right outside. Wasn't even trying that hard.
My finishing story, because I am getting tired, and can feel my already small reserve of lucidity slipping away, is Chinatown. I was half-heartedly doing some shopping, until I found Poppers, 5 for a dollar. BOO-YAH!! We went into a tea store, and got pounced on by what seemed to be a very bored sales-lady, and came away with some interesting information about the tradition of Chinese tea. I have a new-found respect. There was also a pretty awesome grocery store I wanted to check out, but some people wanted to keep moving. They had these crazy looking roots just sitting in baskets outside. Most grocery stores have carts outside, and Boy Scouts on an interesting day. There was also a small, but noticable population of hipster Asian teens. So funny. The juxtaposition of a skinny Asian kid, wearing his "cool" white T-shirt, sporting some weird haircut, and a wizened Chinese grandmother, wrinkly and stooped was quite something.
I had a swell time, and I apologize for not getting this out earlier. For every story I chose to share, there were two others I could have chosen. If you have a question, or something you want me to share (this is limited to my parents and Cami), let me know. Merry Christmas!
Cami (one of my faithful readers) had recently turned 16, and had planned a great celebration: a good group of friends, spending a day in San Francisco, culminating with Wicked, the hit musical. Unfortunately, her parents friends didn't see this as a good idea, at least not for their kid. Except mine. Mine let me do all kinds of semi-crazy things. (Thanks guys! Love ya!) Which would explain why I was awake at 4:50 a.m. on a Tuesday, on purpose.
The basic plan was as follows-I would catch a train from San Jose to Sacramento, where I would meet her (even her parents weren't wild about the idea of her riding the train into San Francisco alone), and then we would ride into San Francisco together, and there wasn't really much of a plan aside from ending up at the Orpheum Theater in time for Wicked at 8:00 p.m. I thought this plan (or lack of) was great, but afterwards, talking with Cami, I learned she was actually pretty nervous, particularly when it came to anything to do with navigation or transportation. (Sorry!)
If I may stray away from the narrative for a second, traveling with someone else is fascinating. The first draft of this post, just a few days after the trip, was written on the bus. By myself. Alone. I usually travel alone, which is fine with me, and my experience of traveling with other people is limited to pretty short trips with my family, and going to Africa with two other dudes. The first one was easy, and the second one, I was the least responsible person on the trip, so I really didn't have a lot to be worried about. This time, I was the responsible one, and I had more than a few things to be keeping track of, and worrying about. I kinda like it with just me, and if I mess up, I'm the only one who suffers or gets hurt. Additionally, when I ride alone, I don't need to worry about talking with anyone. Usually I say about 10 words during the course of a 1.5 hour ride. "Hey, how's it going? Day pass please. (50 miles later) Have a good weekend!" When you ride with someone, you need to talk with them, at least a little. Sitting in silence for 2 hours is fine for one person, two people, it gets awkward. Having to do all this talking led to an interesting revelation for me, and my thought process. I notice a lot of random, worthless, absurd little details, and when I'm by myself, those just stay in my head. The really good ones get Tweeted, but those are rare, so a lot of details go into the recycle bin of life. When I'm trying to have a coherent conversation, noticing that giant white bird, probably a snowy egret, what were we talking about? Its really not pretty. A lot of little non sequiters came tumbling out. It was really interesting. I had to work on filtering some of the less relevant bytes out, and staying on topic.
The train ride was fairly uneventful, though the switches were so cold they had to be thrown by hand, which slowed things down. The redeeming factor, besides the company on the second half of the ride, was a wonderfully drunk 20-something, a few seats behind us, on the other side of the aisle. (To go back to the topic of the previous paragraph, it was odd having to share seats with someone I knew. Cami was sitting kitty-corner from me. I've sat next to tons of people, but never people I know.) Back to the drunk guy. He was in the usual gangsta punk outfit. Hat, baggy pants, black shirt with generic gangsta graphics, black jacket, and basketball shoes. He was listening to rap on his headphones, at a volume he probably thought was appropriate, but was turning his headphones into little, distorted boomboxes. Sitting 5 feet away, I could hear the general beat, and some of the lyrics. Actually, I could hear a lot of the lyrics, because he was rapping along. Not well, it wasn't like he was doing a good job, which I think bothered me more than the fact of his rapping. I have heard other people rapping along with music on their headphones or cellphones, and if they do a decent job, I can tolerate that. At one point, he took a phone call, which I will do my best to reproduce his end of the conversation. "What's up? Not much, just riding the train into San Francisco, ***** drunk. Nah, its pretty ******* boring. Just singing along with my boys. There's a bunch of white kids staring at me. I know, HAHA! Its gonna be a ******* great day! Later, fool!" Two things here. That noise was not singing, and we were not a bunch of white kids, we were two. Not a bunch. Two is a couple of white kids. And then he got off, and walked away. IPTP can be so anti-climatic.
We then got on a BART train from Emeryville to San Francisco. This is where the traveling got fun, but a little challenging. (Again, Cami, I apologize, and I feel bad you got stressed out.) I would like to give a shout-out to the kind African-American man who corrected Cami's misconception that she is as tall as I am, when obviously, I'm taller. Thanks dude! I owe you one! The train ride itself was pretty quiet. A lot of white-collar, business-y people, not really singing out loud, or carrying chickens in their backpacks.
A lot of the time in SF was walking around, which was interesting, seeing all the interesting people, things, and buildings. A casual chess tournament, several street musicians, some unique older buildings, and great little stores.
A big part of the trip was eating. I love eating. I could spend at least a week going from eating, to doing things that make me hungry, like swimming, playing football, cooking (oddly enough), and then back to more eating. Lunch was in Chinatown, and delicious. I was starved! Won-ton soup and chicken-rice-noodle-thing, both of which were delicious! I loved the decor of the restaurant. Lots of cool pieces of Asian art on the walls, nice ambiance, but the funny parts were the pillars, and the fishtanks. The pillars, which were more like support beams, there to hold up the building. The funny part was the aesthetic of the pillars. They were classic Greek pillars, and just struck me as totally out of place. There were also fishtanks, with live fish, clams, and other various seafood in there, for easy ordering. Awesome! The fish were just kind of hanging out, waiting for their eventual purchase, and shortly thereafter, consumption. Feels poetically fatalist. Did those fish have a choice? Did they have any way to escape? Just patiently doomed. Dinner was at a Greek place around the corner from the Orpheum, and pretty yum. Hummus, salad, some crazy awesome bread. They even had pepperocini, my favorite! Later, the leftover container spilled all over my backpack. Perhaps the most interesting my bag has ever smelled. I loved it, and the experience of eating a fairly nice meal, with almost adult conversation, and no one asking for help cutting their meat was great. I eat alone frequently, but eating with someone, that's just great.
I also loved seeing the public transit system San Francisco has. It was pretty amazing. There were gaps, and the schedule slowed down after 5:00, but it was still rocking. The streetcars were a odd mix of cars saved from destruction from Italy, France, and somewhere else. It took me 3 rides to figure out why there were a bunch of signs in Italian. Its not even like San Francisco is known for a big Italian population.
Despite the genuine vibe of Chinatown, which reminded me of Liberia a little, a lot of San Francsico, at least the part we were in, had the obvious vibe of tourist town. Starbucks every few blocks, "cute specialist shops" (looking at you, Sock Shop!), T-shirt emporiums, all labeled with some version of "I was in San Francisco". Is it like you could forget? If you had a forgettable experience, an over-priced T-shirt isn't gonna change that. A lot of the stores could have been picked up, and moved to some other tourist town, and been fine. Pier 39 was the pinnacle of this fake, expensive, generic San Francisco. And there were people who looked like they were having a great time! Good for them.
The play itself was amazing. As a bit of a word nut, there were some great lines in there. Really good writing, and the lyrics were...award-worthy. I can see why this play won so many critic's plaudits. One really interesting detail I noticed that simultainously helped sell the character of the Wicked Witch of West, and make her seem like an actress was the way she walked. Slightly leaning forward, always about to stumble, clomping her feet, face in front, like a battering ram. It was a great impression of someone who walks like that, but, it felt a little forced. The audience was hilarious. I was one of the few heterosexuals who wasn't on an "official" date, and probably one of the least-well dressed. What can I say? I don't think blazers travel well in backpacks.
I've now lost any narrative form, and will attempt to hit a few more stories. Walking along the beach was fun, if a little intimidating. I preferred the safety of high-traffic areas, which, is actually funny, because, alone, I would have been seeking just such a place. There was a lot of garbage, which was partially understandable, due to a large storm, but the carrot was unacceptable. Once I figure out how to get pictures from my phone to computer, I'll post the carrot we found in the beach. There were also crazy people swimming. There are things we call "crazy", that aren't really, but this was toeing the line. That water had to be about 40 degrees, if not colder. And they were swimming, on purpose!
I would also like to recognize the one time Cami did well with directional stuff. She thought we were supposed to head one direct down a block, and I thought we were supposed to go the other way. (To be fair to myself, she could have just guessed.) She was right, I admit, but, I did rather well, if I may say so, with navigating for the rest of the day. I had us get off the BART three blocks away from Union Square, and at the station that had the visitor's center right outside. Wasn't even trying that hard.
My finishing story, because I am getting tired, and can feel my already small reserve of lucidity slipping away, is Chinatown. I was half-heartedly doing some shopping, until I found Poppers, 5 for a dollar. BOO-YAH!! We went into a tea store, and got pounced on by what seemed to be a very bored sales-lady, and came away with some interesting information about the tradition of Chinese tea. I have a new-found respect. There was also a pretty awesome grocery store I wanted to check out, but some people wanted to keep moving. They had these crazy looking roots just sitting in baskets outside. Most grocery stores have carts outside, and Boy Scouts on an interesting day. There was also a small, but noticable population of hipster Asian teens. So funny. The juxtaposition of a skinny Asian kid, wearing his "cool" white T-shirt, sporting some weird haircut, and a wizened Chinese grandmother, wrinkly and stooped was quite something.
I had a swell time, and I apologize for not getting this out earlier. For every story I chose to share, there were two others I could have chosen. If you have a question, or something you want me to share (this is limited to my parents and Cami), let me know. Merry Christmas!
Saturday, December 12, 2009
The Great Giveaway (Round 6)
So, I can't really remember if I talked about the Great Giveaway over the summer, or even last years. I'll give a basic rundown, because almost all of my last week was tied to the Giveaway. The Giveaway is an event that is held in my apartment complex, where anyone who wants to can give donations, and we will pick them up, and then those in need, from various low-income complexes can come and take whatever they need. Sounds simple. In reality, there are a lot of moving parts, and things that need to get organized and arranged. Fortunately, that's not my job. Mom, along with a few other brave, hard-working ladies do the organizing, and Mom is in charge of getting the pick-ups arranged. Dad and I are in charge of picking up things, and carrying them. And other stuff like that. Seems pretty simple on the surface. 10 days of this routine, culminating in a two-day marathon, one day of hauling boxes over, and then early the next morning moving all the furniture over. Its pretty exhausting.
After that little whining session, I wanted to share how many people were blessed over the course of two days. By very conservative estimates, there were 400 people that came and got food, clothes, some furniture, toys, and some were given gift baskets that they could give as Christmas presents. It was awesome!!
After that little whining session, I wanted to share how many people were blessed over the course of two days. By very conservative estimates, there were 400 people that came and got food, clothes, some furniture, toys, and some were given gift baskets that they could give as Christmas presents. It was awesome!!
Random Things
This is going to be a little different of a post, filled not with stories, but with a few reviews, of movies, music, books, and just random cool stuff.
I'll start with some movies. Up, from the movie giant that Pixar has become. I loved it in general, and there were very few weak scenes. I will say this though, that despite the surface-deep kid-friendlyness of this movie, there is a lot to this movie on an adult level. Several running jokes, and commentaries on various ideas. As a bit of a joke snob, I was on the lookout for some good jokes in this movie, and I wasn't dissapointed. There was a good bit of physical humor from one of the characters that has absolutely no lines. The really good jokes were about the universal characters though. The old man, the slightly crazy little kid, the one we all know and tolerate, (if you don't know a person like Russell, then you are that person), and dogs. The dogs provided some of the biggest laughs, and were pretty consistent. We all suspect that our dogs are that stupid, deep down, and they do all these great things, but you throw a ball, or say treat (regardless of the context) and they become slobbering, brainless dopes. Full disclosure, I had a dog like that, and I loved him. The idiot. The emotional, sentimental side of the story was....interesting, but not really what I expected. In addition, I'm not married (news flash!), and the particular kind of relationship that was being invoked was heart-warming, but I have a hard time identifying with that. It is an admirable goal for a relationships, I will give it that. Finally, the storyline I actually find the most interesting, looking back. The "evil explorer" arch-nemesis, the antagonist of the story, is obsessed with finding this particular kind of bird, fantastic in appearance. Sorry. SPOILER ALERT! That's better. The scientist/explorer guy is obsessed with this bird. He doesn't see the importance of the bird living. To remove nuance, if the bird goes, its chicks die, but this man is relentless. Additionally, he is driven by attempting to restore his reputation as a man of science. How does a man who so loves nature fail to see what he will be doing? I'm not sure, frankly.
Another good movie I saw was (saw was is some kind of fancy word thing. If you turn it around, its still the same) Food Inc. I was actually pretty familiar with a lot of the data, from reading a lot of the material this drew on, but the visuals were amazing, and really helpful. I highly recommend it. Really thought provoking, and helps blow away some of the fog that surrounds our food.
As far as music, this particular band is high on my list of favorites. Interestingly, it feels accessible, and at the same time challenging. A sweet blend of classical and indie pop, The Most Serene Republic has some of my favorite lyrics ever. "Gadzooks, gadzooks, gadzooks!" and "I thought that we'd established we are friends, now go am-scray!". Nuff' said. Its not the most well-known and established group out there, but really good.
Books. I've been reading a lot of different things recently, but two books have been excellent, and I wanted to share. The first was The Manual of Detection by Jedidiah Berry. This book last just about one bus ride. It was so great, I couldn't stop reading. This is an absurdist twist on the classic detective story, with a sly wink at the seasoned reader, and a twist about halfway through that tells you this isn't just another whodunit. The complexity of the storyline was a lot of fun, and really engaged me. Don't try reading this while multi-tasking. If you want a story set in reality, entirely plausible, find something else, but if you enjoy a break from reality, give this a look. The second is For Us, The Living by Robert A. Heinlein. If you've never read any Heinlein, don't start here. This recently found first work by one of the masters of substantive science fiction is more a preview of the topics that almost all of his later, more refined works would cover. Love, violence, science, economics, its all here. If you have read a fair bit of Heinlein, this is worth the time. Basically a short story with a lot of history and data, very much worth seeing the starting point of the journey of ideas that resulted in classics like Starship Troopers, The Cat Who Walks Through Walls, etc.
Cool random stuff. The best I've got is the fact that rain and winter finally seem to have arrived here. I love rain. I wish it was snowing, but, people who live in CA can't complain about weather. I would like to point out that with the right amount of water on the ground, getting a nice skid is about as easy as falling off a log.
One final cool thing is SOC. Check the terms, this should be on the list. Our last meeting was about marine technology. Off the hook! We had 3 speakers, and each had 10 minutes allotted. In total, they went over by 30 minutes. It was really, really interesting. Exploring the ocean presents some interesting problems, and it was really cool to see the methods some pretty smart people are coming up with to work around those barriers, and all we are learning because of that technology.
I'll start with some movies. Up, from the movie giant that Pixar has become. I loved it in general, and there were very few weak scenes. I will say this though, that despite the surface-deep kid-friendlyness of this movie, there is a lot to this movie on an adult level. Several running jokes, and commentaries on various ideas. As a bit of a joke snob, I was on the lookout for some good jokes in this movie, and I wasn't dissapointed. There was a good bit of physical humor from one of the characters that has absolutely no lines. The really good jokes were about the universal characters though. The old man, the slightly crazy little kid, the one we all know and tolerate, (if you don't know a person like Russell, then you are that person), and dogs. The dogs provided some of the biggest laughs, and were pretty consistent. We all suspect that our dogs are that stupid, deep down, and they do all these great things, but you throw a ball, or say treat (regardless of the context) and they become slobbering, brainless dopes. Full disclosure, I had a dog like that, and I loved him. The idiot. The emotional, sentimental side of the story was....interesting, but not really what I expected. In addition, I'm not married (news flash!), and the particular kind of relationship that was being invoked was heart-warming, but I have a hard time identifying with that. It is an admirable goal for a relationships, I will give it that. Finally, the storyline I actually find the most interesting, looking back. The "evil explorer" arch-nemesis, the antagonist of the story, is obsessed with finding this particular kind of bird, fantastic in appearance. Sorry. SPOILER ALERT! That's better. The scientist/explorer guy is obsessed with this bird. He doesn't see the importance of the bird living. To remove nuance, if the bird goes, its chicks die, but this man is relentless. Additionally, he is driven by attempting to restore his reputation as a man of science. How does a man who so loves nature fail to see what he will be doing? I'm not sure, frankly.
Another good movie I saw was (saw was is some kind of fancy word thing. If you turn it around, its still the same) Food Inc. I was actually pretty familiar with a lot of the data, from reading a lot of the material this drew on, but the visuals were amazing, and really helpful. I highly recommend it. Really thought provoking, and helps blow away some of the fog that surrounds our food.
As far as music, this particular band is high on my list of favorites. Interestingly, it feels accessible, and at the same time challenging. A sweet blend of classical and indie pop, The Most Serene Republic has some of my favorite lyrics ever. "Gadzooks, gadzooks, gadzooks!" and "I thought that we'd established we are friends, now go am-scray!". Nuff' said. Its not the most well-known and established group out there, but really good.
Books. I've been reading a lot of different things recently, but two books have been excellent, and I wanted to share. The first was The Manual of Detection by Jedidiah Berry. This book last just about one bus ride. It was so great, I couldn't stop reading. This is an absurdist twist on the classic detective story, with a sly wink at the seasoned reader, and a twist about halfway through that tells you this isn't just another whodunit. The complexity of the storyline was a lot of fun, and really engaged me. Don't try reading this while multi-tasking. If you want a story set in reality, entirely plausible, find something else, but if you enjoy a break from reality, give this a look. The second is For Us, The Living by Robert A. Heinlein. If you've never read any Heinlein, don't start here. This recently found first work by one of the masters of substantive science fiction is more a preview of the topics that almost all of his later, more refined works would cover. Love, violence, science, economics, its all here. If you have read a fair bit of Heinlein, this is worth the time. Basically a short story with a lot of history and data, very much worth seeing the starting point of the journey of ideas that resulted in classics like Starship Troopers, The Cat Who Walks Through Walls, etc.
Cool random stuff. The best I've got is the fact that rain and winter finally seem to have arrived here. I love rain. I wish it was snowing, but, people who live in CA can't complain about weather. I would like to point out that with the right amount of water on the ground, getting a nice skid is about as easy as falling off a log.
One final cool thing is SOC. Check the terms, this should be on the list. Our last meeting was about marine technology. Off the hook! We had 3 speakers, and each had 10 minutes allotted. In total, they went over by 30 minutes. It was really, really interesting. Exploring the ocean presents some interesting problems, and it was really cool to see the methods some pretty smart people are coming up with to work around those barriers, and all we are learning because of that technology.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Pranked and Re-pranked
All good things must come to an end...Alex and I are still trading pranks. After I helped him clean his room (see previous post), he decided the bathroom needed a tidying. Before I explain what he did, I would just like to highlight my parents participation in all this. At first it was tact consent, no one telling me I couldn't take everything out of Alex's room, and everyone having a laugh, but then Dad helped Alex come up with an idea, and then Mom gave me another idea. I'm enjoying my parents having fun, but also a little nervous. I think they are holding back, and could do all kinds of things to me and Alex, if they wanted to. So Alex loved the idea Dad gave him, and waited until I was taking a shower. Mom came in to talk about some trivial detail (which she claims was merely coincidental), and Alex snuck in, cleared everything he could get his hands on out, and left. I get out of shower, feel for my towel, which should have been sitting on the sink. No towel. Perhaps it fell down, so I feel on the ground. No towel. Odd, didn't feel like there was a bathmat either. No bathmat, no towels anywhere. The laundry hamper, the entry rug, it was all gone. So I had to walk down the hallway, which was suspiciously darkened, to get myself another towel. Suddenly the lights are flashed on, and Alex is laughing and clapping with delight.
Naturally, this could not be tolerated without revenge. So.....after waiting 3 days, which was almost too much for me to bear, Alex finally left, and I was at home, alone. Its really not that hard to pull the hinges out of a door. I had a harder time, once it was off the hinges, getting it out of the doorway and into the bathroom, where it would wait for Al to return home. I was sitting in my chair, much like I am now, and I heard him, down the hall. "Where's my door?!?" He came storming in, stood over me, almost menacingly. It would have been scary, but I was laughing so hard. I helped him put it back on, and listened to his repeated commands to not take any of his things, and the reiterations of how not funny this was.
I knew Alex was going to get me back. I just wasn't sure how good it was going to be. Sometimes his jokes hurt, and sometimes they just aren't funny. This was painless, smooth, and funny. Friday afternoon, I came home, and set my backpack down in the living room. Saturday morning, I wondered where my bag was. Oh well, I didn't need it. Saturday afternoon, my bag isn't in my room, the car, or the living room. Saturday night, perhaps I should ask my family if they know where my bag is. Mandy, Nick, Mom and Dad, all don't know. I walk into Alex's room, ask him, and he gets this gleeful look on his face. I realized I had been gotten, and I had just made his day. It was good. Now the burden lies on me. Any ideas? I need to get this kid, and it needs to be fresh, funny, and smart.
That's all for tonight! Its been a long week, and I'll have an update eventually.
For now, enjoy the Christmas season!
Naturally, this could not be tolerated without revenge. So.....after waiting 3 days, which was almost too much for me to bear, Alex finally left, and I was at home, alone. Its really not that hard to pull the hinges out of a door. I had a harder time, once it was off the hinges, getting it out of the doorway and into the bathroom, where it would wait for Al to return home. I was sitting in my chair, much like I am now, and I heard him, down the hall. "Where's my door?!?" He came storming in, stood over me, almost menacingly. It would have been scary, but I was laughing so hard. I helped him put it back on, and listened to his repeated commands to not take any of his things, and the reiterations of how not funny this was.
I knew Alex was going to get me back. I just wasn't sure how good it was going to be. Sometimes his jokes hurt, and sometimes they just aren't funny. This was painless, smooth, and funny. Friday afternoon, I came home, and set my backpack down in the living room. Saturday morning, I wondered where my bag was. Oh well, I didn't need it. Saturday afternoon, my bag isn't in my room, the car, or the living room. Saturday night, perhaps I should ask my family if they know where my bag is. Mandy, Nick, Mom and Dad, all don't know. I walk into Alex's room, ask him, and he gets this gleeful look on his face. I realized I had been gotten, and I had just made his day. It was good. Now the burden lies on me. Any ideas? I need to get this kid, and it needs to be fresh, funny, and smart.
That's all for tonight! Its been a long week, and I'll have an update eventually.
For now, enjoy the Christmas season!
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