"Candy and soda are energy foods."

Oscar Madison

So the latest manifestation of my weird mental state is that I'm craving sweets. I mentioned the Swedish fish concerns previously; I've since started gamma-irradiating all such fish, Swedish and otherwise, to improve shelf life. (What, you don't have your own gamma ray machine? I bought it when I purchased my iodine in case of terrorist attack). But today on the flight back from Atlanta I had those chocolate Milano cookies (mmm...chocolate) and just finished a couple of Reese's peanut butter cups....my teeth hurt. I never eat this much sugar.

But it isn't helping.

Speaking of terrorists, as the anniversary draws closer, I'm beginning to grow desperate in my attempts to avoid all coverage, conversation, reference, and allusion, but it is not meant to be, apparently. My daughter wanted strong reassurance that I would not be traveling on the 11th (I will not be; in fact, I'm thinking of just staying home that day). Can't imagine getting any work done.

And the news reports seem to be much more 9/11 focused. Three of the four major headlines in USA Today today deal with some aspect of that day. A recent article tells of a man presumed dead since the attacks, found alive but mentally damaged, in a NY hospital. The coverage is ramping up, in what appear to me to be circuitous sidelong ways, like these, plus all the hideous news coverage, retrospective coffee table books (saw several in the airport bookstore) and specials.

Mimi Smartypants noted a couple of days ago how nauseating it all is, and I can't help but agree. But consider the following:

...it seems so self-serving on most people's parts, to "share their memories" and first-person accounts. If anything, shouldn't you feel that you barely have a RIGHT to share your first-person account? Other people lost family members. Other people didn't sleep for days as they tried to dig for survivors. Other people were grateful and excited when they found a torso. Other people ran up the stairs of a burning building. You are sitting around using your thesaurus to come up with more emotional hyperbole, perhaps even (god forbid) in the form of painfully bad rally-around-the-flag poetry. My office building even promised to have extra counselors working the employee counseling hotline on the anniversary itself. What, we are going to have posttraumatic stress disorder as we recall watching CNN on that day? I'm sorry to not be a handholding candlelighting "patriot," but if I had lost family or friends at the WTC and someone who had not tried to share his "personal 9/11 story" with me, I think I'd have to punch him in the mouth.

I agree with the hyperbole and the rah rah poetry points, but the sharing doesn't have to be self-serving. It can be, and many times it is, and I don't subscribe much to catharsis notions of purging the bad feelings. But I think there is comfort and solace to be found with a community of others (albeit in this case a very wide and poorly defined community) who have been affected by similar events or circumstances. A good 12-step meeting can work this way, for example, not that I'm an expert about or a rabid fan of those sorts of gatherings. The difference, as I see it, is one of intimate privacy versus garish public display, and I despair over whether any of the formalized events that are going to take place over the next few weeks will be anything more than patriotic hoo-ha or Springer-esque looping of all that video footage. But in more careful and controlled gatherings, there might be some value.

And in what may be a related event (but I can't tell, and was too chickenshit to ask) there was a man wearing what I can only describe as a paper gas mask at the Shop 'n' bag today. Not one of those hospital masks that you see..well, in hospitals. (Saw quite a few of them in the early days of the WTC clean-up, and in a strange mental hiccup, I now recall seeing them quite a lot in Japan, where [I was told] they are customarily worn if one has a cold, so as not to infect your neighbors). No this was a multi-chambered thing. He looked for all the world like a normal shopper, except for his odd facegear. Maybe he had a challenged immune system...or was playing a weird game at home and forgot to take it off...or smelled something...you know, bad. I seem to find thexe inexplicable people everywhere...




posted by MT at 4:50 PM |

Happy Birthday, Dad!


posted by MT at 6:43 AM |

Now this is funny...

Along with the usual P-boy Enr*n p*rno requests that bring the lurkers here (see, I figure if I just stop writing the words, eventually the hits will stop too...) I got this one which is funny on several levels: mather son sex. Can't be a typo, cause 'a' and 'o' are miles apart, on the QWERTY keyboard anyway.

I can see the cartoon storyboards now. Think of the advertising ... New on Fox this fall!! Powder wigs! Incest! Puritan preachers! The Internet! Think you've seen it all? Well think again, my friends. I bet I could sell time for that...



posted by MT at 11:32 AM |

"Too tired to sleep; too angry to pray..."

You know things aren't going well when I start quoting David Wilcox lyrics at you. Doesn't matter what song it is, it can't be good news if it comes remotely close to describing any aspect of my life. Love the guy, but a wildly effervescent party tune master he is not.


I am reminded of a great line from Cheers (Norm always had the best lines upon entering the bar, usually in response to a question posed, e.g., "How's it going, Norm? What's shaking, Norm?") Well, this one was "How's life treating you, Norm?" "Like I just ran over its dog."



I'm eating some Swedish Fish (like an uber-gummi, is the Swedish fish; not quite a jellybean, not quite a gummi) to calm my rattled nerves, and I just noticed with something like horror that one of the green ones had a red spot within. Like finding an egg yolk with that little blood spot in the middle. Can I get salmonella from Swedish fish? It never occurred to me to heat them to FDA-approved temperatures to kill all the bugs. I ate it anyway. Do your worst. Out out, damned spot.


My 9-year-old asked me this weekend how the west nile virus got here. And I started telling her what I thought was the right answer based on my limited knowledge of all things west-niley: that some mosquito bit a critter that was infected, and the infected mosquito made it over here. Like with the plague. Or the British rock invasion. And then I reasoned, it was probably the infected critter that did all the traveling (maybe a rhesus monkey with the sniffles got smuggled into the country in someone's backpack [since the folks at the security checkpoint were too busy scrutinizing the American Touristers for dangerous toenail clippers to notice a monkey, literally, on his back) and the mosquito biting commenced on our shores. All probably equal in plausibilty, even though I think the real question she was asking was "How do we keep from getting it?" (I was being noshed on by a bevy of mosquitos as we ate dinner outdoors at the time). To which I have no good answer.


But I'm currently asymptomatic, thanks for asking. And it occurs to me today that perhaps the gummi/Swedish fish angle needs to be explored more exhaustively...


I have no time for this, but the alternative is to return to the report I've been writing all day (and which is vexing me because I can summarize the answer in three paragraphs, so the need to drag it on for eleven pages, even for one such as me who has no trouble using ten words where one will do the job nicely...is...um...see, I just subordinate-claused myself right into a pit. Like in Silence of the Lambs: "It puts the lotion on, and puts the lotion back in the basket!" Precious, come down here and keep me company...)


I have been cheering myself up by reading back issues of Mimi Smartypants. I am finding myself turning to this space less as a "hey look at this" linky place, where I sort of started out a la La Di Da (hey, that's almost a palindrome!...needs a few more la's on the end, I fear...) to something more introspective, like Mimi's place. Not my intention, but there it is. Which makes not coming here more distressing. Which is why I'm here now (well, that and procrastination). But now I must go.

More stories later.



posted by MT at 5:43 PM |

What do you do when the alumni association asks you for money? Give them the finger, of course...

No, really. Wendy forwarded the following article to me: A Drew University alumnus donated a "famous finger" to the University...allegedly belonging to noted English evangelist from the 1700s. Um. Thanks...? We were hoping for a little cash, but this is nice too. Librarians get no respect, apparently...

This becomes more relevant (but not much more) if you know that Drew is affiliated with the Methodist Church and presumably welcomes gifts like this. So does this mean that when they hit me up for a donation this year, I can just collect some toenail clippings and seal them up in a baggie, asserting that they turned up in the basement in a box marked "Reverend Farhquar's Essentials," donate them and get my name on a plaque? I'd do it...

The mind reels with obvious jokes (including the headline) relating to giving an arm and a leg and other various parts to pay for undergraduate education, but I'll let my dad comment on that if he wants. Although I'm already paying for V's parochial school, so I guess I am getting a sense of this myself.


posted by MT at 11:13 AM |

I left my heart in San Francisco, I left my knees in Providence...

Ack, more of last week's hoo-ha. This whole employment thing is turning out to be a drag. As a critter on a recent episode of Futurama put it: "this is less fun than previously indicated."

But, the good news is I'm heading out to San Francisco this evening for a set of focus groups tomorrow evening. Haven't been there in about a year. Spending all day in the city tomorrow, ostensibly working from my hotel room, but hey, who's gonna know? Should be some colorful events to report on from this trip, bring me out of my slump. Looking forward also to some authentic Rice-A-Roni, which I hear tell is a favorite local dish....

Some good news: my friend Elaine gave birth to a bouncing (really bouncing, 9 pounds!) baby boy, Patrick Mitchell; just got some e-pictures and everyone is looking happy and beautiful. Welcome to the world, little one.

posted by MT at 12:37 PM |

At least they are acknowledging that he is actually dead...

Wee mini-rant: If I see one more tribute to Elvis I will barf. A bloated, drug-addled had-been who still serves as the best cautionary example of the dangers of blatant excess and desperately growing to believe your own hype. Michael Jackson, are you paying attention?

posted by MT at 9:56 AM |

"A little of what you fancy does you good (or so it should)."
Jethro Tull, "A Passion Play"

Finally, at long last, a moment to blog in peace. Thanks to the loyal readers who sent encouraging little nudges my way. Holy jebus this has been a relentless week. I wonder sometimes if one's job should continually cause this much anxiety. Given that our stock price plummeted midweek to an all-time low, I can't believe we're so busy. (Into the single digits! What the frell!? And by way of explanation, a comforting voicemail saying that while we are all disappointed up here in the big offices, we are convinced our business plan is working. Huh? Did Miss Cleo phone you from her cell and offer a hint at the future? Care to share?).

But I digress. The first of many headlines, this one to get the complaining and symptomaticity out of the way before we go on to the good stuff. My trip to Providence. Originally going to be a drive (nice long winding relaxing Friday drive) became a less-than-relaxing flight because I had to fly to North Carolina on Monday for research (I was glad, however, to cash in my USAir frequent flier miles before their value goes the way of my company stock!). Had tons of baggage with me because I wanted to bring my blades and show off my new-found skating skills.

Which of course means that I wiped out completely in the first three seconds of our jaunt down this hill (Wendy gently pointed out the embarrassing grass stains on my shoulder only after I had regained my composure). But that was mild compared to the enduring pain I'm still...enduring. These damned knees. Working hard, pumping away on the skates (they are mid-range fast, versus Wendy's fast fast, so to keep up I had to work double shifts), apparently twisting my left knee in an unfriendly way (it's the only explanation that make sense) that may have led to a strain or sprain or some damned old person's knee business. Which explains the three liters of fluid that have been swishing around in there all week, leaving me to hobble along like Christopher Lee in the 1959 "Mummy."


WaterFire

Among the many reasons I wanted to trek up to New England was to see WaterFire again. It's the brainchild of a local artist, Barnaby Evans, and something of a recent Providence tradition. The link gives the details and history better than I could. My pictures came back just Friday, and they look something like those, but I don't have the skill or wide-angle lenses needed to duplicate these images. But I will post them soon all the same.

The pictures themselves don't really capture the experience, though. It's a multisensory extravaganza -- music, light, aromatic wood scents, acres of human flesh...well, that last bit kind of detracted from it, making it a little hard to appreciate the less tangible pleasures. Sort of an uneasy combination of quiet, thoughtful solitude-in-numbers mixed with drunken frat-boy "whatchatakinpicturesof, buddy?" nonsense. Wendy read to me from the program at one point while I was setting up the tripod, and this dimwit next to us seemed astonished that she could read, or that I was actually enjoying the backstory. Brother. Probably a lesson in there about public ownership of art or something.


The sheep were only the tip of the iceberg

I promised I would use this headline. We traveled to Jamestown to visit the Watson Farm, a 200 year old productive, self-sustaining farm that is protected under the auspices of the Society for the Preservation of New England Antiquities. We arrived while the Rhode Island Spinners Guild (yarn, not plates) was holding an exhibition. Not at all like the Mage's guild or the Warrior's guild (sorry, little D&D geek hiccup there). They mostly just sat there spinning wool. And we roamed the farm. Incredible piece of property.


Wendy had heard that it is a sheep farm, but they were barely a focal point. Met a brand spankin' new calf (had just been born the day before) and her parents in one expansive meadow, where we struck up a conversation with one of the Watsons. He graciously answered questions, though we kept them to a minimum so as not to look like dingy city-folk who'd never seen a cow before. (Lots of poo out there, phenomenal amounts actually...what is it with my weekend outings and poo? You'd think I had a fetish or something. Funny to see it in print like that, though. Poo. heh) Um where was I. Oh, the cows. Yes I know, what kind of dope blogs about cows? It wasn't just the cows, it was the sense of history, that these were vital to the Watsons (fifth generation of farmers), and they were close enough to stroke, if one was so inclined. They seemed more comfortable keeping a good arm's length distance from us, which was fine. I have been known to eat a few in my day...not on the hoof mind you, but still...a wise decision for them.


After the cows, we wandered down to the beach (still part of the farm) and hunted up sea glass. Saw more than one conch shell, which surprised me. It was a rocky beach, and it seemed that the gulls were plucking all manner of shellfish (including mussels and even some crabs) from the surf, and then dropping them on the rocks to open them up. Saw a film on that in fifth grade, I think. But we were swollen-throbbing-knee-deep in empty sea critter shells, so that was my conclusion (notice the continuity there).


There was much much more, but I'm starting to feel like the oblivious traveler making others endure his vacation slideshow. Dr. Wendy took very good care of me all weekend. You should all have friends like this. My advice: go to New England and bring comfortable shoes.

posted by MT at 8:04 AM |

Birthday Shout-Outs

BOO-YA! Dr. Wendy was born today, and the world is a better place for it! Had a most awesome time at the Wendy Inn over the weekend, and have had no time (ZERO) to blog about it which distresses me greatly. But this needed to be said. Happy Birthday Wendy! Have a beautiful day!


In other weird coincidences, Rebecca at coffeesweats turns 30 today. She is being showered with gifts and well-wishes from her loyal beetle hordes. Welcome to the other side of the hill, dear.

posted by MT at 10:27 AM |

Shuffling off to...Providence.

Heading up to RI to visit Dr. Wendy and the three wee kittens (well, they're not wee or kittens anymore, but they hold that special place in my heart). Will come back next week hopefully with photos to post of WaterFire, which is a local living art/community endeavor type of thing...Difficult to explain quickly, and I'm dashing out to catch my plane. It should be a great weekend.




posted by MT at 12:03 PM |

Just a lovely little blog...

No commentary here. Just an invitation. Something very elegant and appealing about the design of this page. Found it at random via the Blogger site.


posted by MT at 6:44 PM |

What was that waiter's name again....? Jean-Luc!!

Ah, finally, a quiet General Foods International Coffee moment to relax and blog. Damned work is harshing my buzz considerably.

On to the good stuff. Revisited the bluegrass festival (held in Wind Gap again, like two months ago) to mellow in the woods. Not as hectic or crowded this time. Celebrated my bro-in-law's birthday out among the stars. (Couldn't see the stars while the cake was lit, of course, but that's a different story.....)

I learned a powerful life lesson from my nephew, who shares my birthday and is just four. Later in the afternoon his dad and I took him down towards the bandstand where folks were sitting around in grand outdoor concert fashion. Lots of families, lots of kids, lawn chairs and beach blankets. And my nephew, with no prompting at all, decides to make friends with everyone under the age of, oh, 12 or so. Mostly the girls.

The most fun part was the way he approached them: hand out (his dad taught him to shake hands with people when you are introducing yourself,) "Hi my name is," and standing patiently until they returned the shake. His first target was a small gathering of three girls that looked to be about eight or ten years old (maybe a little younger). They watched him as he approached, but wouldn't shake his hand and kind of eyed him curiously. Undaunted, he gave them a fair "shake," shrugged it off, and went on in search of friendlier shores: a little girl aged maybe five and a brother (apparently) about the same age. This time, he was invited to sit down and chat. After a few minutes, he went back to his lawn chair to watch the musicians, and then found other people to ingratiate himself to. (Look at that preposition just dangling there).

He went on in this way for a while, and eventually found a little girl who was eager for his attention, and to whom he referred later as "his girlfriend." They held hands and danced in the grass. It was a hoot. And what I noticed (though he didn't seem to) was that all of the others he had approached were keeping a close eye on him. Even the original three girls who were indifferent and wouldn't shake hands. They kept looking over to see what he was up to. And I thought: "got 'em!"

Here are the big life lessons. 1) Doesn't hurt to ask for what you want (as any good cat, or cat owner knows). If they say no, move on and try again. 2) Be gracious about it. 3) Keep 'em curious. They didn't want to shake his hand, but 20 minutes later they were still thinking about him. I'm sure there's an aphorism in there somewhere.



posted by MT at 2:54 PM |

Shake it!


Mimi Smartypants apparently has an attractive nonspecific pronoun.
Maybe its things like this that keep netting me all the sexually oriented hits...

posted by MT at 11:29 AM |

Ever notice...

that a dog scoping out a place to poo seems to think it is planting a rare hothouse orchid, or displaying a particularly spectacular shower gift or something? So intense! So focused! "This is the most valuable thing I've got, and I've only got the one! Gotta find someplace special to put it, so that others may enjoy as well. The light needs to hit it just so..." They seem to be thinking. It's one of the only times dogs seem serious to me, unless of course they're stalking a critter.. .


More interesting/weird search strings that somehow find hits here:
make your self vinyl raincoat pattern. Is this a big cottage industry or something?

sport cloth room sex girl. Syntax, anyone?

nude cady on golf. I think you mean 'caddie,' son.

pictures of Iranian women having sex. Do I really talk about sex this much?

And perhaps the most disturbing one, if it means what I think it means (and how do I decide?) mather spanking sex. While I tend to believe that our old buddy Cotton Mather was in fact into spanking, knowing that someone perhaps finds this a turn-on is somewhat alarming. Is this what Al Gore envisioned when he invented the internet?? I ask you...

In other news, my interest in my barefoot-driving neighbor has been downgraded from an obsession to a muted curiosity, mostly because I haven't been able to verify that he's done it again (because my departure times in the morning vary so widely). It may have been a cosmic singularity, and it's hard to work up a good obsession about non-repeating events. Well, for me...


posted by MT at 9:41 AM |

Monday, monday....

Have lots of neat weekendy stuff to blog about, but no time now. In an all-day meeting....grr. At least they are feeding us.

We are all of us thinking outside the box, and maximizing our core competencies. (I always find that makes me feel a little bloated and cranky, but that's life...)

I have a new protege -- my first direct report -- starting today. Heading out on wobbly legs with little affirming nudges from me. More on that later too.

Once more, unto the breach...

posted by MT at 11:01 AM |