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Everything’s Better with Friends

March 24, 2012

God, that was fun.

I couldn’t have asked for a better Saturday. It started when The Big M took the Boy garage sale-ing. For $6 they picked up a really cool record collection from the 1940’s put in the World War II-era version of a CD storage case.

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How cool is this thing? Oh, and hello, Joanie.

Then our college friends Bill and Sylvia came to spend the day with us. We got to catch up, our kids got to play together, we got to eat steak (that’s a later post), our kids played some more, the grown-ups played some dominoes, and we watched some NCAA basketball.

I’ve had an unbelievable run in my NCAA bracket and went 8-0 in the Sweet Sixteen games. At the beginning of today I had a 1 in 128 chance of winning $10,000 in the Yahoo bracket tournament (assuming 50-50 odds on each game). After Louisville took down Florida in a near-heart-attack-inducing game, my chances rose to 1 in 64, and my bracket vaulted to #2 overall out of Yahoo’s 3,170,905 brackets.

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That is crazy. Just crazy.

College basketball hasn’t been this exciting for me in a long time, and we all got into it. After halftime in the Syracuse-Ohio State game we broke up the domino game to sit in the living room rooting for Syracuse, who I had picked to make it to the Final Four. It was an exciting game, but Syracuse couldn’t pull out the victory.

I had said that I would throw a party if my bracket came down to the final game. It turns out that today my bracket did come down to its final game, and I got to have a great party with great friends.

That’s worth more than money. Great day.

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Hi-ho, triple salchow

March 16, 2012

So The Big M and I went to SXSW. I am 22 months shy of my 40th birthday and I still have all of my teeth, so while I’m not *empirically* an old person, I’m old for hanging out outside of Antone’s on a Tuesday night during the biggest music festival probably anywhere. I had a few contemporaries around me, but still. A little incongruous with my stray gray hairs and unironically worn non-hipster Levi’s. They’re not Mom Jeans, but they’re not hip, either.

I’ve heard 200,000 people have flooded into Austin for this event. When we waited outside of Antone’s to get into the Band of Skulls show, people around us were talking about where they had flown into to get here because every flight into Austin was full. Tulsa was the farthest I heard.

Ick.

One of my local friends tried to rent a van for the weekend (it’s Spring Break) and learned from the car rental companies that not only did they not have any vans available, they were 25 cars short of what they had promised to rent. Let’s hope that got worked out.

During our hour wait outside the club, The Big M counted how many men walked by with a shirt tucked into pants held up with a belt. I believe he saw 7, and that was out of probably 400-500. The Big M made number 8.

Conclusion: we are stridently uncool. I’m okay with that.

Here's what Antone's looked like when we got in.

I last went to SXSW in 2000 BC, that being Before Children. At the time I was a film addict. I spent entire days in the movie theaters during the festival, watching five or more films at a sitting. I would have been game for the Butt-Numb-A-Thon. Not so much in 2012.

The last time I went to the SXSW music festival was probably 1992. It was a smaller affair then, and ran only Wednesday to Sunday. Now it’s a 9-day event, not counting the days of pre-parties. And it has expanded not just to film but to interactive events. It’s kind of incredible. I can’t wrap my head around how big this thing has gotten.

Now as I mentioned before, we are not empirically old, but we’re already old enough that we’ve forgotten how this club concert thing works.

See, when one has actual tickets to a concert, one is not required to wait in line to get into the club. The line is for people who have wristbands and who are hoping that the bouncer will let them in if they’re really cute or really persuasive or one of the first 50 or so in line who have wristbands. We’re not that cute or persuasive, but we had tickets. By the time we realized that waiting was not a requirement for us, we’d killed enough time to just stick it out. Consequently we were among the first 10 people to get in. And consequently we got to be in the front row.

Sometimes being old and stupid pays off.

Doors opened at 8. And because I’ve forgotten how this works, I was thinking the band would come on at 9 or so.

Feel free to laugh at me.

The opening act to the opening act came on at 9. Then around 10, we got to see the real opening act, We Are Augustines. I didn’t know any of their music, but it didn’t matter because they were really fun.

I swear this guy is a clone of Marcus Mumford.

That’s Billy McCarthy, and he knows how to have a great time.

This is not a great shot, obviously, but it was the best I could do with the iphone and no flash. No zoom, either, so it gives you some idea of how close the guys were getting to us. Bassist Eric Sanderson came within six inches of my face at one point, which cracked me up. These guys were having a great time.

Eric Sanderson

It was really great to see how much these two and their drummer, Rob Allen, were enjoying themselves. They obviously loved what they were doing and that was infectious.

At some point, Tim Westergren came on stage and introduced himself. “Hi. I’m Tim, and I invented Pandora.”

Thank you, Tim. Seriously.

If you don’t know Pandora Radio, get thee to a computer. It’s one of the awesomest inventions in the history of internetting. You download the free app (or, I guess, work from a computer) and enter the name of a band you like. Then Pandora radio plays music from that band and other similar music, often from bands you’ve never heard of but who have a sound that you like. It’s very interactive — you tell Pandora if you like a song or not, and it refines the music choices to fit your taste. It’s a great way to discover bands. And it’s just fun.

Pandora was sponsoring the event. That’s why Tim came on stage.

At 11 the roadies came onstage to set up. One cool thing about being in the front row: you can see the set list that they tape to the floor.

*reading through list* Oh, good! Fires (my favorite) is number four. They’re closing the encore with Impossible! Wait — where’s Honest or I Know What I Am or Friends? You’re killing me!

But at least I wouldn’t spend the entire set waiting on those.

At 11:30 it was time for the main event.

Emma Richardson is so cool. She was right in front of me the whole time. She’s a mix of Chrissy Hynde from The Pretenders and Peggy Olsen from Mad Men. (The show, I mean.) Tough, cool, Season 4 Peggy Olsen. Emma looks a bit like her.

Hard to tell in this picture, I know.

She was up there kicking so much ass on bass and with the singing. And meanwhile, this guy in the front row at the other end of the stage was standing there, wearing his backpack, and not moving a muscle.

He stood like this for six straight hours. I kid you not.

I don’t know if he was German or was being post-ironic, or both, but the guy seemed completely oblivious to the fact that three different bands rocked out all of four feet away from him. It was impressive.

More impressive: Russell Marsden on guitar. He was killing it.

This was the best picture I got. Sorry.

Love the close-up duet. These Brits rock. I was expecting them to turn the volume up to 11, but they didn’t. It was more like eleventy billion. I honestly thought my ears were bleeding at one point. They hurt for two days after.

It was getting past midnight and it was loud and The Big M had to work in the morning, so I was thinking about bailing. (You know how I know you’re old?) And I was looking at the set list and thinking, meh, I don’t know this new Ikwia song, and I’m not sure I can make it to the encore.

And then Russell struck a D chord and let it hold, and I knew we were in it for the rest of the game.

Hi-ho triple salchow I got a feelin’ like a tidal flow but I know what I am they know what they are so let me be.

It makes no sense, and it’s catchy as hell. There’s some argument as to whether it’s “tidal flow” or “tired of the flow,” but I’m going with the former as that’s what RockBand has as the listed lyrics.

Ikwia = I. Know. What. I. Am.

Duh.

Then they followed immediately with Light of the Morning.

And then Death by Diamonds and Pearls and the encore, and we were out. Those last five songs went by in an instant.

Special thanks for the evening go to The Big M, who shielded me from pushy, whiny teenagers behind us (ha! like whining from strangers works on people who don’t even crater to the whiny demands of the beloved fruit of their loins!) and to my parents, who watched the kids overnight.

It was a good time for us older folk. And to the whiny teens, I say — Get off my lawn!

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12 Things I’ve Been Doing in 2012

March 9, 2012

Not blogging, obviously.

1) Listening to music. Current mix I’ve made and listened to a dozen times or more:

Ultra Violet (Light My Way) — The Killers cover U2
The Dead Dog — Portugal. The Man.
They Done Wrong/We Done Wrong — White Rabbits
Apartment — Young the Giant
Felicia — The Constellations
Honest — Band of Skulls
I Would Do For You — Slightly Stoopid
Lasso — Phoenix
Cough Syrup — Young the Giant
I Am the Walrus — Bono & Secret Machines (U2 covers The Beatles)
Animal — Neon Trees
Neon Tiger — The Killers
Guns Out — Young the Giant

Some of these bands I discovered at ACL last fall. Not The Killers, though. They’ve been a favorite of mine for a couple of years. I think their cover of Ultra Violet beats the original.

Fallback album: Mumford & Sons Sigh No More

I enjoy deconstructing their songs. The Cave is a mix of The Odyssey and G. K. Chesterton’s biography of St. Francis. Roll Away Your Stone references St. Augustine’s Confessions. Timshel refers to Steinbeck’s East of Eden. Dust Bowl Dance is Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath. And so on. It’s a fantastic blend of music and literature, and I’ve been listening to this one album off and on since last summer, sometimes for days at a time.

I’m preparing to participate in SXSW in my small way by going to Antone’s to see Band of Skulls next week with my best friend, The Big M. We got the tickets last fall. He’s a country music guy, but he indulges me. One of the many reasons I love him.

2) Reading

I’m currently re-reading The Count of Monte Cristo. I keep getting distracted by life, which means that when I get back to the book I have to re-re-read chapters to remember the characters. The only novels worse than French novels when it comes to the numerous characters to remember are the Russian novels. Why must every Russian have five different names? I’m *this* close to making a chart just so I can keep track of everyone.

Coolest prison escape ever.

For my online reading group, I’m reading James Frazer’s The Golden Bough. It’s an early-20th-century analysis of mythology and religion. The black magic stuff is fascinating. Warning: do not read about how a Hand of Glory is made when you’re eating an egg and sausage breakfast sandwich.

Be grateful I didn't insert an image of a Hand of Glory. Be very grateful.

3) Watching and/or Listening to Lectures

The Big M and I have been enjoying a series on structural engineering. This is completely outside of my area of knowledge (I don’t say area of expertise because I’m not an expert at anything), but has been really satisfying and interesting learning.

Gustave Eiffel designed this steel railroad bridge to span a giant chasm in France. Yeah, *that* Eiffel.

Listening to a lecture series on the history of Christian theology. I’m still puzzling out Calvinism and the concept of predestination even after reviewing my notes. Many interesting things to note on this blog about early Christianity at some point.

This Calvin is more fun than that John guy.

Listening to a lecture series on The Iliad. Easier than re-reading it.

What do you mean the Trojan horse isn't in The Iliad?! *mind blown*

Watching TED talks. This one is seriously awesome:

4) Tearing apart my laptop.

This was scary, necessary, and totally fun. I took out my completely-full 250GB hard drive and replaced it with a 1TB drive, doubled my RAM, and replaced my battery. Once all of that was done I upgraded my OS. Now I have a new laptop for a total cash outlay of about $250. Sweet.

5) Doing taxes.

Ugh. Also scary and necessary. But not fun.

6) Handling Girl Scout cookie coordinating duties for The Girl’s troop.

This took much more time than one would think and came with the added burden of keeping 100+ boxes of cookies in my house at any given time.

We call them Caramel DeLites in Texas, but that doesn't make them less delicious.

7) Dieting

See #6.

As Granddaddy said, I don't want to dig my grave with my fork.

8) Playing on the internet.

Still addicted to my favorite message boards, among other sites. I don’t want to go back in time because I’d have to live without the internet.

Yeah, pretty much.

9) Learning to write 19th-century Spencerian cursive.

Because I’m a dork. And because this is a temporary art outlet until I get back to drawing.

I shall write as though I lived in the 1850's. And were named Mildred.

10) Discussing many topics with my (not big) friend M.

Latest is the NOVA episode on Wednesday in which physicists hypothesize that our universe is a sort of hologram in which the real material is contained in something like a black hole (or another dimension?). Seems to me that it’s Plato’s allegory of the cave repeated 2,000 years later. Plato said that our reality is really like shadows on a cave wall but that we don’t know any better because our back is to the real reality, the sun. The allegorical sun. The real reality is a group of perfect “forms” contained in another dimension. I could go into the religious parallels, but I’ll spare you. For now.

The ancient piggy bank was merely an illusion.

11) Co-teaching religious education.

It’s been a learning experience to be a first-time teacher. My friend Kathleen is an experienced middle-school teacher. She’s not only more knowledgeable about our subject, she knows how to keep eleven second-graders in line. I’m more of an assistant to her than a Teacher teacher, but it’s still cool.

He is the A and the Ω.

12) Hanging out with family and friends.

This is #1, actually, and the reason I haven’t been reading more.

The kids and I have gotten through one novel so far this year and are working on a second. The one we finished is The Missing Persons League, a book that unfortunately is out of print. It’s about a dystopian future in which the world is so polluted that people disappear to find a better one. It was written in the 1970′s, and these future people make telephone calls on land lines and place ads in newspapers. There is no internet. My kids found that amusing and to some extent incomprehensible. It’s a good story that’s well-told, and that’s a rare combination.

Oh, those psychedelic '70s.

I’ve been enjoying lots of social time this year. I’m blessed to have a loving family and many terrific friends.

I shave my legs for *any* party, girlfriend. And Target rocks.

I hope your 2012 is going well.

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Guess What I Did

February 10, 2012

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3D Printing

February 7, 2012

Roughly ten years ago I read an article in Discover magazine about the technology of 3D printing. The printer takes data from a three-dimensional CAD drawing and translates it, layer by layer, into an object. At the time, its biggest use was in the military — using metal dust to manufacture screws and other parts on aircraft carriers. As you might expect, this technology was too expensive for any regular person to own.

Apparently the price has dropped.

Not only that, the types of materials that can be used to print has expanded. It’s not just metal (can you imagine melting down your jewelry and printing some new piece you like better?) or plastic (woo-hoo! silly desk toys on demand!) but it has become cellular. Like creating body parts cellular.

Lisa Harouni says it’s a manufacturing revolution. Check it out:

 

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Paradise Found

January 18, 2012

We were blessed to enjoy a multi-generational family vacation in beautiful Hawaii recently. Below are a few of my photos from the trip.

The flag flies over the U.S.S. Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor.

Looking out towards Turtle Island off the coast of Oahu.

Bali Hai called to us from a restaurant on Kauai.

At Haleakala National Park on Maui I look down at the cinder cones.

Girls hula in ti leaf skirts at a luau on Maui.

My family sailed into the sunset on that catamaran. I stayed on shore, where I don’t get seasick.

A lone palm tree stands in Kona on the big island of Hawaii.

A traditional Hawaiian royal residence stays in the background at Puuhonua o Honaunau National Historical Park on the Kona coast.

Tiki stand guard. We took care not to put any in our suitcases.

The kind of lava called pahoehoe is common on the big island.

At the painted church on the big island, Hell is found even in paradise.

At Waikiki Beach in Honolulu, Oahu everyone stops to watch the sun set into the Pacific.

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Paradise Lost

January 18, 2012

Happy New Year, friends!

I’ve been reading (off and on) from John Milton’s Paradise Lost. It’s wonderful, and I mean that in the classical sense that it provokes wonder within me.

I hated Milton in college. Hated him. He bored me because I didn’t understand him. I can tell I didn’t understand him because I’ve been reading my handwritten notes on the pages of my college text, and they’re completely off. And now, because I’ve read so much and so broadly over the last few years (although I haven’t written much about it) I hardly need any of the real footnotes as I read.

His poem flows. I’m reading it aloud to hear its rhythm and its lushness. It is both beautiful and touching, and I can see how it influenced C. S. Lewis. I believe he based Screwtape on this poem, and I know he wrote a preface to Paradise Lost that forms its own book. I know this because I have that book. But I haven’t read it yet.

The story starts in the middle, as good stories do. Fallen archangel Satan and his fallen angel warriors are in hell and recounting their battle with God and heaven. They are debating whether or not to force war again, given that it seems impossible to defeat God, or if they should try subtler means. By Book Two, the pandemonium (a word Milton made up — it means demon council) has agreed that they will go find a new creation they’ve heard will happen and see if they can convert its creatures to their side so as to gain revenge upon God. The creation is Earth, and its creatures are humans.

Satan is the only one willing to take on the task. He secures his leadership by doing so. Beëlzebub is second in command — he is not synonymous with Satan. The other leaders are the early gods Baal, Mammon, Belial, and the gods of Olympus, because Milton saw them as leading mankind away from the one true God.

The demons’ perverted logic is present throughout. Satan says, “Better to reign in Hell than to serve in Heaven.” What he says to support his argument is that everyone in heaven will want to be the king because the higher up one is, the greater the glory, and so the desire for glory will create internal strife among the angels. Meanwhile in hell, the higher up one is, the greater the torment, and therefore no one else will want to supplant his leadership. Ergo, reigning in hell is superior.

I love lines 249-255 from Book One, so much so that I want to commit them to memory. Satan justifies his fallen state. He will be creator within his own dominion.

…Farewell, happy fields,
Where joy forever dwells! Hail, horrors! hail,
Infernal world! and then, profoundest Hell,
Receive thy new possessor, one who brings
A mind not to be changed by place or time.
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.

The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven. How many times have I thought that? Externally my life is good, and yet so often I have lived in hell within my mind, so much so that I’ve wondered if torment exists only here on earth and that we don’t need a parallel dimension for that. My thoughts on the afterlife is that it’s all or nothing, literally. We are with God or we refuse him and turn away, and the opposite of God is nothingness, not torment.

I don’t think my opinion aligns with Catholic doctrine, and my opinion is subject to change.

In the first two books of Paradise Lost there are negative parallels to the positives of the trinity and Creation. Satan pulled his own daughter out of his body, which parallels Eve from Adam. He has an only son by his daughter, a perverted parallel to Jesus from God. The power of threes: one third of the angels of heaven are fallen. And there are others, but I can’t remember them specifically.

Milton says there are nine kinds of angels, with top being the archangels and bottom being cherubim and seraphim. I can’t remember all the in-betweens, and I don’t really know what the difference among them is. Some are guardians of Heaven, and others are guardians of people on Earth, I think.

Milton originally studied to be a clergyman in the Anglican Church. He studied broadly and in at least four languages: English, Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. He traveled throughout Europe in his youth and got to know, among others, Galileo and Cardinal Barberini, a friend of Galileo’s who later became Pope. Milton was profoundly anti-Catholic in his later adulthood, and I don’t know why. He became a lawyer and then a politician, and wrote many treatises, mostly in Latin. His poetry was in English.

I think it’s interesting that his one epic poem came out of him after he went blind, which means that he wrote it entirely orally. And of course, traditional epic poems were all oral. That may be why the sound of it is so beautiful. It doesn’t rhyme, usually, and the meter is all over the place, and yet the meter corresponds to the lyrics and gives them greater power. It is its own music. And I can see it, when normally I only hear what I read.

That’s what I’m getting out of Paradise Lost through Book Six. The entire piece is twelve books, but the Fall doesn’t happen until Book Nine. I plan to venture into Eden and witness the Fall in the near future.

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The Future of Medicine

November 7, 2011

In the spirit of getting back to the stated purpose of this blog, I will share with you a TED talk I finally had a chance to view last night. Last year at the Texas Book Festival I had the serendipitous opportunity of seeing Abraham Verghese, a medical doctor whose novel Cutting for Stone was featured in one of the forums. I had never heard of him or his novel, and in fact was only in that lecture because of the lure of free books. None of them was authored by him, and a year later I have yet to read them.

But because free books brought me into an auditorium in the basement of the Texas State Capitol in the fall of 2010, I had an experience that was astonishing. Dr. Verghese began to speak. And as he did, the audience fell silent. All squeaking of seats, rustling of bags, clearings of throats ceased as we sat transfixed. The man transcended charisma. He transcended brilliance. He spoke, and we listened, feeling as though something were shifting inside of us.

This summer Dr. Verghese did a TED talk in Scotland about what he believes should be the future of medicine. It’s about going back to the past. It’s about recognizing that we, the patients, are not automata to be examined by machine. It’s about recognizing that the doctor-patient relationship is a personal one. The power of technology does not replace the power of human touch.

I invite you now to listen to what he had to say.

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The Camel

October 9, 2011

I’ve been scanning more photos, and when my 7-year-old daughter dug these out of a box buried in a closet at my parents’ house, I flipped out.

That’s me in the center, dressed as the camel. I was not quite four years old, and it was my pre-school’s Christmas pageant.

I *loved* that camel costume. I mean LOVED it. Of all the costumes my extraordinarily talented mother ever made, this one is my all-time favorite.

Mom put newspaper in the camel body to stiffen it and yardsticks in the back legs, and would you believe that when I walked those back legs would walk with me.

For real. It was awesome. I really feel that I cannot overstate the awesomeness of this camel costume.

Other kids tried to climb on the camel back. I wanted to carry them around. That didn’t work so well. I guess the costume would have been awesomer if I could have done that.

But still, seriously awesome.

Look at the Christmas joy on my little face as I sing a carol. The next year I was the Virgin Mary, and I was bummed out because I wanted to be a camel again.

I didn’t need Christmas as an excuse to break out the camel costume. I wore it at my fourth birthday party.

The little girl in the background is Heather. She was five years old, and she was the daughter of my aunt’s then-boyfriend. Heather didn’t like me. Probably her dislike was not really of me but rather of her dad dragging her to his girlfriend’s niece’s birthday party. That’s probably the reason she was mean to me.

But maybe she was just jealous because she wasn’t a camel.

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The Early Adopters

October 7, 2011

My parents recently celebrated their 40th anniversary. In anticipation of their upcoming party I am scanning many old family photos for a slideshow.

I had to share this series because it cracked me up so much.

Picture this: Christmas, 1971, Austin, Texas. Newlyweds invite their parents over to open Christmas presents in the small, white, frame house they’ve dubbed “the honeymoon cottage.” The young husband is a technology geek, and this year he has some money to spend. He’s going to get his parents something nice.

“Oooh!” says his mother. “What can this be?!” Dad silently and absent-mindedly tears off the wrapping paper, not pausing to fold it carefully so that it can be re-used for future gifts. Off-camera the young daughter-in-law shakes her head sadly.

They open the box.

“What the hell is this thing?” Dad asks. Mom is bewildered and disappointed. The box had been big enough to contain a porta-crib. So much for the grandchild announcement. Three months of marriage already, and nothing.

“Look, Dad,” their son points, “it’s a stereo.” Dad puts his hands on his hips and harrumphs. The son continues, “You know — like a gramophone, but it has two speakers. See, the sound is split onto two separate tracks and each speaker plays a different track, which gives you a three-dimensional audio experience…” he trails off.

“See, Dad, it explains about the equalizer right here on page 32A of the manual…”

“Hmph,” says Dad, as he hitches up his trousers, “well…thank you, kids.” Mutters…”What the hell am I going to do with this thing?”

And 39 years later the son gets an iPod touch for Christmas from his own kids. Which he doesn’t use.

The struggle continues.

The End

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