This will be nonlinear...

As if it could be any other way. Around here. But as you all know, all of the interesting development is nonlinear development. Gestalt! Greater than the sum of! Actually, most people mis-translate that, the quote is not and has never been "greater than the sum of the parts" but rather "different than the sum of the parts." Which is meaningful to only about five of us, but still, the difference is important. Because greater implies "bigger than" which therefore implies just a bigger pile of the same old thing, while "different than" implies nothing like you've seen before, which is what true development is all about.

Still with me? No? Go have a beer and come back, and it will get easier.

So on to the nonlinearity. I learned yesterday that lemurs come from Madagascar. Appropriate here because of all my lemurs. And my nephew (who knows everything about everything, or soon will) told me this, knew this off the top of his brilliant little nine-year-old-head because I happened to have, in my bag, the lucious and luxurious cashmere sweater that LK gave me for Christmas, and when I let my sister have a look, she noticed that it was made in Madagascar! See, it all makes sense. Have another beer. And if we accept that lingerie is the gift that keeps on giving (for the men who give it) cashmere is certainly the gift that keeps on giving (for pretty much anyone who receives it). It invites random strangers to stroke your shoulders and arms and...well, it invites strangers. Or casual acquaintances. Or curious passers-by. Better than lingerie, 'cause you wear it outside. Mostly.

So, we managed now to bring the holiday festivities in through the back door. Because where else would my nephew and sister and all other family members be huddled around stroking my sweater? Why Christmas, of course. Yesterday was the big family thing, and we had much food and drink and lots of swordplay. Not for any particular reason, that last, except that with all of the Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter and Star Wars paraphernalia available in the stores, one must assume that a sizeable proportion of all gift-giving will involve swords. Not boring metal swords, either, but bright plastic swords with sound effects and lights and more sound effects. I have a bruise on my arm this morning that can only be from one of these devices. Nothing says "birth of the lord" like violence and swordplay. Just look at the middle east.

BTW, I think it is unfair to pit a lightsaber against a Middle-Earth short sword because, let's face it, a lightsaber even wielded by the unskilled will slice the crap out of anything just forged of, you know, metal. I don't care how long it's been stoking in Mount Doom. Sheesh.


Cloth mother wearing snowshoes is a joy forever...

I spent a glorious three days with LK's family up on the farm. Her whole family was there, including the wee little ones. What fun! It snowed on Christmas eve, a stunning six or eight inches of clear bluish white that threatened to kill the power but never did. I hope the photos that I took come out. This is what the soul looks like at rest. That airless vacuum of soundless white. With the promise of a warm and inviting fire inside when it gets to be too much. LK and I went off to enjoy at 2-mile walk through the slushy snow at dusk. Snow shoes! Like doing the elliptical machine but outside. The farm is fairly isolated, and even so, the neighbors had decorated with brilliant lights around the trees and houses, all coated with that thick layer of pure snow. Robert Frost came unbidden to mind: "Whose woods these are, I think I know. His house is in the village, though. I do not think he'd (mind me?) stopping here, to watch his woods fill up with snow." Okay, I didn't take time to find the quote. It's what I remembered. And anyway that's the sense I got. Cozy, soft invitation. Stay as long as you like. We're sharing this with you.


It's hard to capture all of this just with language, and I'm reluctant to try especially since most of you have your own holiday memories that you're trying to repress. Let's hope the folks at Ritz are true to their word and get this all done in an hour.

But that seems like a seriously down note on which to end this. I've noticed that most of the regulars have taken the last few days off. Maybe that's appropriate. We all come back to reality soon enough. Enjoy some nog and the bright twinkling lights, even if they are not yours. There's lots of beauty out there if you care to find it.



posted by MT at 8:30 AM |

Here's something that should give you pause...

On the label for some sugar-free holiday candy I was examining the other day I found something disturbing...(trying to minimize the holiday poundage while still enjoying a treat now and then -- I'm actually being very good, in preparation for beach-wear, but still...it's candy season). The following warning, very small font. It's always a bad idea when your candy (or any food) has a warning on it.

Excessive consumption may have a laxative effect.

Now. Let's think about this. On the one hand, this is self-evident, because doesn't all consumption eventually have a laxative effect? But I think they mean over and above normal bodily processes. And I'm thinking, gee, thanks for the warning. I could use more information. Like, how much is excessive? Excessive for me means more than a pound at one sitting (do love the chocolate). I suspect it's much less than that. I think I'll stick to the little pint of grape tomatoes sitting next to my computer. Aren't grape tomatoes nature's candy? Or is that raisins?

I'm trying to be very good. But my admin gave me a box of truffles this morning, so I fear all is lost...


posted by MT at 10:49 AM |

That and a buck eight-five gets you the Venti at Starbucks...
Link via Laughing Boy

Best Google search string ever: "what the fuck am I going to do with a phd from cambridge?"

I hope the query was entered before he or she went to the trouble of, you know, getting one...but somehow I doubt it.



posted by MT at 11:05 AM |

Under the wire

It's become a source of personal pride for me to not let the days number more than seven between posts here, regardless of how busy I am. So I am just making it. Came off a grueling two weeks of being away, gave up a good chunk of my Sunday to finish writing one of the several reports I am working on this week, all with an eye towards taking the rest of the year off come December 23. It is starting to feel unlikely. But it's good to have a goal. And anyway, I have met the week goal.

It is always so weird to be back in the office after being away for so long. The mail piles up, and this time of year we have cards that are personalized to send to the "important" clients (that's a joke, they're all important, really....) as well as interoffice hoo-ha. Much of this goes right into the recycle bin. Don't tell anyone I said that. And I'm rather miffed that in spite of my best efforts, this was going to be a "coast" week (you know, like coasting down the slip'n'slide in the backyard, all wet and fun and easy) and it's turing into legitimate work. I shouldn't complain, with Cozumel looming like a bright shiny mirage, but it's my nature.



Meet the parents

Went with LK to meet her parents on Sunday. They live in this impressively complex and delightful farmhouse near the Allentown PA area. Such incredibly welcoming and generous people. We all laughed a great deal. No lie detectors or discussions about milking (if you haven't seen that movie, this will make no sense to you). And critters! Two German shepherds and two cats (one Siamese, which brought me fondly back to the early years when we had Siamese cats in the house -- I had forgotten how much I love that breed). It was a critter-capade, I tell you. Breakfast overlooking the pond in the back, which was lightly frosted with the faintest of snowfalls. Pristine. (I re-read that, and it sounds like we were on the back porch, which would have been a bit chilly. The dining room overlooks the pond.) The silence outside was deafening, broken only by the occasional movement of the wind chimes. So isolated and cozy! Yum.

Which may be contributing to why I'm sort of crabby today. Want to not work now, thank you. Please take this back to the kitchen. Take me off your mailing list. Shoo. But they won't listen. Perhaps a tantrum is in order...



posted by MT at 1:01 PM |

Cozumel! Cozumel! I know it sounds a bit bizarre...

sung to the tune of "Camelot"...

Oh my lemurs, check to see if there are pigs flying overhead, and keep an eye on the weather reports from Hell -- it might be skating weather there. Yours happily is taking a vacation. For the first time in...like, ever, I'm taking an extended trip. LK and I were trying to find a place in the Florida Keys, but on the advice of her friend who stayed at this hotel, we decided to extend it out of the country. WooHoo! I apologize in advance for the slow MacroMedia graphics. Click on Caribbean and then Cozumel to see the hotel. Take a look around (the virtual tour is kind of fun). Can't believe the color of that water.

So, it's a warm beachy excursion to Cozumel Mexico for five days in January. We're giving ourselves enough time to recover from the New Year's Eve festivities and flying on the 2nd. Cashed in some frequent flyer miles so we can fly first class round trip. Finally all this business travel starts to pay off!

Naturally, I'm in no shape for the beach. I was voted whitest white man at the shore this summer, and I suspect I will win similar awards on the beaches in Cozumel. The tall statuesque loveliness of the lady will be eclipsed by the pasty glaring white fishy underbelly complexion of yours lumpily. She is trying to make a beach bum of me and I'm cheerfully going along, but I fear we will cause a scene. At least my beacon-like skin tone should blind any curious passers-by who will inevitably stroll by and ogle the lady. Eyes front, mister! I'll say. Don't force me to take my shirt off! You'll be days in recovery. Just move on down the beach and nobody loses their sight ... or their lunch.

Having never done this, I'm not quite sure how to proceed. I expect lots of swimming and beach-related lounging, so that means books. I may even leave my cell phone at home (probably not, but I ain't bringing the laptop that's for certain). The days will be glittery and full of entertainment, day trips and lots of photo ops and maybe even some scuba diving. (We joked that at least with diving I'll be wearing more clothes, which can't be a bad thing). Lots of drinks with rum and fruit juice served with flourish by bronzed locals eager to please. Or so I envision. I'll frankly be happy just to have that many days alone with LK, without the cold and our wacky schedules getting in the way. Mmmmmm......

So now it's just the waiting part. And the packing. And more waiting. And hiring a cat sitter. And still with the waiting. Haven't had this much fun in a long time and we haven't even left yet.


posted by MT at 4:35 PM |

It just ain't Christmas without the pfeffernuese...


Okay, this will be brief. Just got done with a harrowing group of docs here in Miami -- yes, I'm back again. I don't even know where I'm going most of the time anymore. I just read the itinerary and show up and somehow it all just works out. Suffice to say....don't get sick in Miami. Not the sharpest bunch of physicians I've ever encountered. George Carlin once said that by the process of elimination, you will eventually find the world's worst doctor. And the scary part is, someone has an appointment to see him tomorrow. I think I talked to a few of them tonight. Hoofa. I said (out loud, and quite unintentionally) now I know why Florida is where people go to die. Confusing cause and effect, I think.

Anyway, this was about the cookie. Archway (no free link, you bastards, because I think you stopped making them) used to have this great holiday collection, coconut macaroons, those lame "Holiday Stars" and then the Pfeffernuese. All sugary and flavored with anise and kind of stale but that's okay. I think they are going the way of the fruitcake. Can't find them anywhere, and you know how Archway has those little cookie kiosks in the store round this time of year, so you can get your bolus of holiday sugar in one convenient place. I'm powerful bummed about this. But I'll get by.

Can't really get into the spirit of things when it's 78 degrees and humid. Waiting for the week to get done with already.


posted by MT at 11:08 PM |

Blogslut II: Jason's Revenge

or: The Dragon of Contentment


I really have no time to update just now, but this doesn't really count as an update since I'm just rehashing what Mimi said on Sunday and putting it in italics for your viewing pleasure. Standing on the shoulders of giants. Science works this way too. Lest you think otherwise....Anyway, she so accurately captured what it means to be milling about on a Sunday that with the exception of the scrabble business, I could have written it myself (with less skill, naturally). Especially like the nod towards object relations theory which is, after all the grandmother of Harlowe's whole cloth mother paradigm...and is appropriate here for that reason as well.

Boy I had no idea I was going to go there when I started. The title seems misleading now, but I'm going to leave it. Just added the subheading...(everyone: oooh! he's so nonlinear today!)

And now, to Mimi Smartypants with analysis and critique:

I had a hard time getting to sleep. My mind was full of Scrabble tiles (I lost every game, but I lost with flair and style) and signage. Now it's Sunday, a total placeholder in which I only update so that I don't dissolve entirely into a pile of inarticulate goo, and I have that vague Sunday unease, full of desire without object. I really hate this feeling, because it leads to the need to constantly quiz yourself like you are talking to an unsoothed infant: What do I need? A nap? Not sleepy. Food doesn't appeal. A secret forbidden cigarette does appeal, but that's probably just an illusion that would disappear as soon as I lit up. Desire without object usually leads to masturbation, and I'm certainly not knocking masturbation, but really, do I have to have such infantile needs? I am regressing instead of maturing, always chasing the dragon of contentment.

Actually, the better part of my desire has a very tangible object these days (how romantically stated!) but I can certainly relate to that 4:00 pm Sunday disconnected feeling, where you've not gotten anything done to offset the growing Monday-morning-after-a-holiday anxiety that sets in around that time.


posted by MT at 3:02 PM |