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The same old dog....

...The newest, latest dog

Or...neon Sign?

Or me standing under a 50's style neon sign somewhere in the dark mountain depths of Franklin, NC?

Top 5 Records, 2006

I couldn't think of ten that came out this year that were really worth a damn:

5. Dixie Chicks, yeah, you heard me, what of it? --Taking the Long Way

4. Johnny Cash--American V, a Hudred Highways

3. Tom Waits--Orphans (probably only as low as 3 because I haven't actually gone out and plunked down the 45 bucks yet)

2. Neko Case, Fox Confessor, Blah blah blah

1. Garden Ruin, Calexico

Engaged!

Dawn and I took a positive step forward toward the rest of our lives together this weekend.

On the lift hill of the world's greatest wooden roller coaster, I asked her if she might be interested in gettin' hitched up with me. I gave her the length of the ride to think about it, and at the end of the ride, she said yes, and then I gave her a ring.

We had a lovely trip into the Smoky Mountains. We enjoyed Dollywood, we rode the rides, saw the shows, including my favorite, "A Hokey Mountain Christmas" aka Randy Jackson's "A Very Pitchy Christmas."

On the way back yesterday, we went to the "lowest place on earth" Tallulah Gorge. It's actually the deepest Gorge East of the Mississippi. So our travels have now taken us to the ultimate geographic highs and lows. At least the ones in the Eastern U.S. , since last year we went to the "highest place on earth" or, Mt. Mitchell, NC, the highest peak east of the Missisippi.

Highs, lows, ups, downs, curves, dips, drops, loops.

More to come. I'm sure we'll handle them just fine.

Interstate Update, or cringe. Body?

The morning traffic reporter nonchalantly announced that there was a body in the road at I-75 this morning.

The body's condition was later upgraded to...alive. Last I heard, it was observed from the air that the body was, in fact, moving on the stretcher.

There was also a giant, hot air balloon floating over I-85 this morning.

This place is getting so very, very strange.

Interstate Update, or, Shop Vacs and Truck Fires

The newest item to add to the strange list of things seen in interestate highways comes from co-worker Cal, who had to avoid a shop vac on interstate 75 South of Atlanta.

I myself yesterday saw a full set of four fairly nice looking wicker chairs on the side of I-20 eastbound, and right next to those a wheel barrow.

I don't know what's up with the rash of fires on Atlanta's interstates. Clearly, most truck drivers can't drive worth a damn--some asshole truck driver cuts me off at least twice a day....

So lets hitch 'em up to something flammable to boot? Just this morning, a tanker truck caused lane closures on the downtown connector, which is essentially the heart that pumps Atlanta traffic. Last week, there was a bus fire, a shooting, and a grass fire that negatively impacted traffic well past the regular rush hour hours.

Let's just all stay home?

Or, better yet, let's get big trucks around the outside of the city and charge 'em to use 285?

Ban them between 6 am and 9 am, 3 pm to 6 pm?

Ten Songs I Never Need to Hear Again

Rock and Roll radio in the Atlanta area has changed and morphed in strange ways over the past 30 years. I can rely on the major FM radio stations in the area to play the same sort of stuff, and in some cases, the same stuff--over...and over...and over and over again.

99X--Atlanta's "alternative" radio. I think they have three CD's, and two of them are Red Hot Chili Peppers records. 99X reliably plays at least 7 Red Hot Chili Peppers songs an hour, 24/7. The other CD is some crappy emo compilation. Reliably plays alterna-rock from the same albums that were popular when I was in college, in spite of 14 new releases from bands like, say, Pearl Jam since then. Stop...playing...Ten.

Dave FM--Ok, a bit better--but its a bit as if I took all the "Greatest Hits" albums from my personal collection and made them into a giant playlist.

96 Rock--Hm. The longest running radio station in its current format--blasting cock rock, metal, a lot of Southern rock and occasional songs from the list I intend to generate. I can go here when I need some good, reliable 3 chord rock for driving/reliving high school/ or for getting the catchy hook of the whiny Emo song I tried to listen on 99x as a means to "grow" in my appreciation for young artists out of my head, hopefully forever.

97.1. The River. Ok, before 92.9 changed formats and became Dave FM, they played the same 14 late 70's-early 90's songs--and the River was a great radio station, playing tuneful "oldies" (which brings me to the...what is an "oldie" anyway question?!?) from the 50's-70's. Need to hear "More than a Feeling" again? Give the River 10 minutes.

Yay for college radio. WREK out of Georgia Tech, the Georgia State radio station--both have good programming even if it proves a little noisy for my taste at times, it can be really fun.

and now...the list:


10. "Bohemian Rhapsody" by queen-play instead...well, anything really, except Boston, I want to continue to like listening to the best of queen so please stop playing it on the radio for ten, maybe 12 years--but if you have to play a Queen song, play "Fat Bottom Girls" 'cause it rocks.

9. "Fly Like an Eagle" Steve Miller--play instead "Take the Money and Run" clap clap clap clap clap.

8. "Hotel California" the Eagles-play instead "Ol' 55" at least they had enough taste to cover Tom Waits

7. "Cocaine" Eric Clapton--play instead "Spanish Castle Magic" Jimi Hendrix--a better guitarist that doesn't get nearly as much play.

6. "Another Brick in the Wall" Pink Floyd--play instead "Shine on you Crazy Diamond"

5. "Stairway to Heaven" Led Zeppelin--play instead the longest, most guitar dripping, drum solo laden live version of "I Can't Quit You Baby" possible.

4. "Money for Nothing" Dire Straits--play instead..."Romeo and Juliet-Live"

3. "Foreplay/Long Time" Boston--play instead "Watch the Sunrise" by Big Star--tuneful, poppy, but tough and well, it doesn't have that grinding prefab silicon "I'm an MIT student" sound.

2. "Peace of Mind" Boston--play instead "Let my Love Open the Door" by Pete Townsend--for some reason, they stopped playing that song.

1. "More than a Feeling" Boston--play instead "the Seeker" by the Who

I want classic rock to wear out the Who the way they have been wearing out Boston for what seems like an eternity. They were a much better, more rockin', more intelligent band. I'm quite sure that the Who could beat up Boston, and well, pretty much any other American band.

As far as American bands go, Creedence is arguably the greatest American band of the sixties. play more of their songs--"Bad Moon Rising" and "Proud Mary" are great songs, but how fantastic are "Midnight Special" and "Cotton Fields?"

Please Mr. Radio Clear Channel conservative guy, stop making them play the same ten songs from the same four records. Please?

Honorable mention:
Black Crowes-"She Talks to Angels"--play instead "Hard to Handle"

Bob Seger-"Turn the Page"--play instead "Nutbush City Limits (live)"

Aerosmith--"Dream On"--play instead "Big Ten Inch Record"

Deep Purple--"Smoke on the Water"--play instead "Cinnamon Girl" by Neil Young

Yes--"Roundabout"--play instead "When the Heart Rules the Mind" by, well, Yes, but, GTR

See, I don't even have to work in extreme obscurities to get some mix in the mix.

Ok, I'm stopping now.

Rant over. I could go on. and on. done.

fin.

Robert Altman, 1925-2006

Bonanza Episodes, Alfred Hitchcock Presents, Maverick
He forged his trademark style and brought unique storylines and style to television

M*A*S*H, Nashville, McCabe and Mrs. Miller
He cut genre wide open, and established himself as one of the world's best

Tom Waits, Lyle Lovett, Lily Tomlin, Sally Kellerman, Bud Cort
He developed an ensemble and blended our best actors, comedians, and musicians with harmonic grace.

The Player, Short Cuts, Gosford Park
For the second decade in his life, he made three films of a quality that most directors strive to achive just once in a lifetime.

Robert Altman, you've earned your rest.

Been a long lonely, lonely, lonely....time

Sorry dear readers, it's been awhile. I've a had a lot on my plate as the new job has finally moved into full swing. I really dig it, even the travel--though I'm still at that stage with a job where there are good weeks and bad weeks, and any time you are putting yourself out there the way you do when you train, you are bound to run into a buzz saw or three from time to time.

There are the "I'm going to ask you this, just to see if you know people."

There are the angry "I haven't taken any of the pre-requisites for this class, but why doesn't what you are presenting make sense to me?" people.

There are the "Hmm, what if I need to know this obscure and useless detail, let me ask hoooaahhahaha" people.

Largely, however, this job brings me to good people who I enjoy working with.

So that's enough about the job.

In other news, I've started playing drums with a little alt-country music band with a few friends in Atlanta. I'm feeling pretty lost with it at this point, but it's been a pretty fun Sunday afternoon activity for me lately. I know I'm a mediocre drummer, but Troy, Mike, and Aaron have been supportive and kind to let me play along.

I'm excited about the holidays. Thanksgiving is just in a few short days, and I'm looking forward to a fun and restful couple of days of cooking with mom, dad, and Dawn, seeing family, and of course, eating the goods!

Then we're off on a road trip through the lower midwest and into Chicago for the Christmas holidays.

Fun in the car.

We discovered our local public library branch this week. They have lots of CD's and books on tape, so, that'll help with the long trip into the great big open flat 0f Indiana and Illinois.

And that's about it for now. I appreciate your patience. I've made road trips to Raleigh, NC and Johnson City, TN since you heard from me last on the Travelblogue, so look for more there soon.

Good Songs...

Deliciously poppy:

"Girl, Inform Me"--the Shins
"You Get What You Give"--New Radicals
"It's Only Natural"--Crowded House


Completely badass:

"Have Love, Will Travel" the Blue Van AND the Black Keys
"Seven Nation Army" the White Stripes
"Girlfriend" Matthew Sweet (counts in both catagories)

Discuss.

Classical Thunder

Overheard piano player crankin' on Ozzy's "Crazy Train" in the highest classical style on the second floor of the Atlanta Airport near the USO.

It took me awhile to figure out what it was. I recognized it, but it just wasn't...quite right. I was both impressed with myself and had a snazzy giggle after that one.

Peeling Grapes

I haven't the foggiest notion about what I'm going to write about, but I've decided to write for a few minutes. I generally try not to let myself into the blog unless I have something definite to consider or well, something to bitch about, but here I am. It seems an endless day and I intend to waste a bit of it.

Peeling grapes. I looked up at a picture of us with a cider bottle on the table. That made me think of apples, and I thought of my mom and dad, who went to Georgia's apple capital this week, Ellijay, to fetch more apples for eating, drying, storing, etc. I thought of how they'd be peeling them, and then I thought about other things that get peeled. Then I thought of how its supposed to be a sign of great honor, love, respect, etc. etc. if someone peels a grape for you--since they're little and slimy-ish--not the easiest fruit to peel.

"There's an appealing fellow...there..a-...peelin' him off the sidewalk!"

There was an amazingly powerful fall thunderstorm that took hold of the Atlanta metro area last night. We were just relaxing and suddenly noticed that the power was out, and sirens were wailing all over the place. We found batteries for a little radio Dawn had stashed and we were finally, around tired rhetoric from some conservative AM Radio talk show host, able to get a weather update.

A couple of tornado warnings, some even louder sirens, and some amazing steel blue clouds with serious lightning later, the power came back on, and temperatures fell radically as a cold front pushed through.

Ok, that's all I've got. If I think of anything else interesting, I'll come back and tell you.

As for now, consider your grape peeled.

Relaxing?

Not even close to a theater near me any time soon

I'm intrigued by the forthcoming film, Shortbus.

http://www.shortbusthemovie.com/


It was conceived, written, and directed by John Cameron Mitchell, of Hedwig and the Angry Itch
fame.

Apparently, there's some sex involved.

Random Thoughts about Traffic, Baseball, and Intellectuals

First of all, if you're driving down the highway smoking, I'd ask that you please use your ashtray instead of flicking. When you flick, random sparky looking things spread across the road in front of the car behind you, and this can induce panic, especially when you just dropped $360 bucks on new tires.

I post a lot about driving, but this is random, I just finished driving, and it's what's on my mind.

Secondly, shovels are the new ladders. I've heard a couple of "shovels in the hov lane" comments on the traffic report lately.

Third, we should start barcoding individual nails, staples, tacks--anything sharp--so that I can trace it back to the source and charge them for tire repairs--twice in the past 3 months I've had to repair or replace tires.

That's enough about the whole driving thing. It's my choice to commute, but still, have some manners.

It's all a big corporate conspiracy. The automotive industry and the auto repair industry are linked up with the construction, nail, tack, and shovel industries in order to create road hazards, increase the number of repairs people have to have, and the rapidity with which people have to replace their cars.

And Sean Hannity is doing this big GM giveaway, so I'm sure that rat bastard is involved, too.

Ok, ok, enough already.

Fall weather is on its way back today. That makes me really happy. It was almost 90 yesterday, so 76 today and woo hoo! upper 40's this evening (with a trip to Six Flags for Fright Fest planned) really makes my day. I'm looking forward to cool and exhilirating night time rides and being attacked by random out of work actors dressed as zombies.

Will I eat the cockroach to get upsies in line? I'll let you know, dear readers.

I've found a new pop culture addiction. I rented the first 4 episodes of the HBO series "Rome." Wow. I only allowed myself to watch the first one, but ...wow. I'm no ancient Roman historian, but I've read a lot about the series and it lived up to my expectations in a big way. The production team worked very hard to get every color, fabric, and building to be as authentic as possible. It is all just explosive with color. So many first episodes of a show bore you with tiresome exposition--not this one--the action moves from the first moment, and the dialogue is snappy, fresh, and believeable--there's no LACK of exposition though. It's very well written and the first episode (and at least a few others) beautifully directed by Michael Apted (Coal Miner's Daughter). There's sex and violence and blood and manpipulation & intrigue. I can't wait to re-watch the first episode and move on from there.

The baseball playoffs hold little interest for me this year. It seems the teams I'd like to win are incapable of it, except maybe the Detroit Tigers. They won a great game against the Yankees yesterday to send the series to Detroit knotted at a game a piece. The Dodgers, Twins, and Padres seem incapable of beating the Mets, A's, and Cardinals respectively though. I've watched bits and pieces of games--and even though I hate the Mets I enjoyed watching former Brave Tom Glavine pitch such a wonderful game yesterday. I usually hate watching him pitch, but now that he's with the Mets he throws more strikes and he comes inside occasionally, making him a more interesting pitcher.

That's a pretty hefty paragraph about something that holds "little interest" for me, but if there were teams in I liked better or could get behind, I'd be a little more intrigued and watching a good deal more.

I've gone on and on about baseball before. My profession sometimes has a bit of snobbery about sports--and I do, too sometimes. Sports, like music or movies, is a part of our culture and popular culture. Whether or not its "good" or "bad"--it brings people together. I find it intriguing that some of the best respected artists and liberals in the world are interviewed at baseball games' or are shown on the broadcast--John Cusak loves his Cubs. Woody Allen and Spike Lee are often at Nicks games; Jack and his beloved LA Lakers, Jimmy Carter and the Braves; true well-rounded American intellectuals have an appreciation for a game well-played.

The Shape I'm In

"Out of nine lives, I spent seven
Now, how in the world do you get to Heaven?
Oh, you don't know the shape I'm in"
                -the Band

So it's fall and the Southern air is breathable again, though Indian Summer seems to be
taking hold this week, highs are thrusting back into the upper 80's again. I'm trying hard to be creative and productive at work this week.

So far,so good--so I decided to take a break to write a little something or other here,
though I'm not quite sure what.

I went for a longish walk yesterday down at the park, yep, the one with the ducks.
A long time quest to get an ipod finally came to an end earlier this year. One of the biggest factors in my getting that was inspiration to exercise more.

I forgot it yesterday when I left for my walk.

I did well, though, even without it. I pushed myself to keep doing more, and I even jogged hard through the whole last lap of my excursion. Go me. Sometimes, sweat feels good.

I entertained deep thoughts about the world yesterday, sans ipod. Looking into the water at the ducks and fish, I decided the world's creepy. Then I pulled back from that decision a little bit, and decided that the we're making the world creepy.

In a week that presented one of our most genteel communities with ugliness and death, and our most harsh political arena with, well, at least twisted and inappropriately directed perversion--it's hard to have faith in humanity.

There were lots of moms and kids out walking.

I began to think how they must grow to fear and distrust every person as a potential threat. It made me sad and less like smiling and saying hello. I hate the idea of making anyone
feel uncomfortable, and it seems like in today's society, that's just the way it's going to be. Parents must naturally distrust every stranger they come into contact with.

Then I pondered my own childhood and how safe it always felt, generally, in small town Georgia growing up.

Maybe parents and children in small town Douglasville feel that way. I hope they do, at least in most situations.

Congress. These are the people we elect, but never trust. I'm honestly not at all surprised.

The Amish. Peaceful isolation disrupted. Somehow, more scary.

Mild domestic disturbance, right outside the bedroom window this morning.

I experience brief moments where I never want to leave the house again. Order in groceries--I hear that's getting cheaper. Telecommute. Lock the doors.

S i g h.

B+ Test

The personality test I utilized can be found at:
http://www.blogthings.com/doyouhaveatypeapersonalityquiz/

B+

Since Max falsely accused me of having a type A personality, I had to find a most likely inaccurate and totally invalid personality test to validate me....or to invalidate Max. I'm not quite sure which.

Anyway. I scored a B+. yay.

***You Have A Type B+ Personality***


You're a pro at going with the flow
You love to kick back and take in everything life has to offer
A total joy to be around, people crave your stability.

While you're totally laid back, you can have bouts of hyperactivity.
Get into a project you love, and you won't stop until it's done
You're passionate - just selective about your passions

Damn straight.

New travel post, New Orleans, LA

New Orleans

tralalog.blogspot.com/2006/09/new-orleans-la.html

Safety

Here's a word that's been tossed around a lot the last few days, mostly in the form of a yes/no question. A yes/no question is about the most useless way to probe for information in our culture, right up there with the alien anal probe.

"Are we safer now than we were five years ago?"

Yeah. I can't answer that with a yes or a no. Maybe? Sometimes?

By virtue of about 10,000 changes in the way I get on an airplane, I'm safer than I was five years ago when I fly.

However, I'm still not completely safe. "Safe" to me, would mean that any exterior threat to my safety was removed. We are never "safe."

Being Safer, at this point, requires real imagination.

We've locked the cockpit doors, not just anyone can wander into the airport concourse, we're all more alert to danger, and most recently, our toothpaste has been banned from the cabin.

And that's just the airport. Given the fact that the airport is one of the few places I can not only feel secure, but sense security. I'd venture to say--if required to answer a yes/no question--no. We're not safer than we were five years ago.

I get queasy when I drive by unguarded water filtration facilities that serve major cities like Atlanta or Savannah.

In Savannah, down by the river, boats pour goods in from around the world. Not a lot of security or screening there either.

Lonely border patrols, illegal immigrants, and "patriots" converge in the sparse desert in frightful night scenes. Shadows slip through.

Men of Middle Eastern descent film their children on a roller coaster in an amusement park and I profile them in my mind.

Dark figures, wisps in rocky darkness, willing to die in order to kill. We don't know their names, we don't understand their motivation...and they don't line up in trenches and tanks as targets for us to shoot down.

The targets, I'm afraid, remain on our backs.

Sweetwater Creek

We came upon a woman on the Factory Ruins trail, a trail marked in red. We were orienting ourselves to a rougher, rockier section of the hike we'd planned--past the ruins of the old textile mill left vacant since Sherman's March to the Sea and somewhere between "overlook" and the "falls overlook"--when she came out of the woods nervously.

"Do you have a phone?"

Immediately, I sense danger and disater and look back to Dawn for her cell phone.

"There's a guy back there with a gun. I think he's committed suicide."



I got no signal on the phone and immediately began to climb the hill next to the trail. I saw two bars popping in and out on the phone screen and dialed 911. I got an operator and nervously described what I'd been told.

I wasn't able to complete the call, but I had their attention and gave them some basic information. A start.

Dawn felt a scary vibe from the woman and the situation. Good to be suspicious in retrospect.

When I came back down the hill, I knew that at some point the 911 operator would call me back. We started to steam out of the trail, we were probably in 1.5 miles or so.
I was walking so fast over the rock and dirt with a great sense of urgency and insecurity, but at the same time--my footing was very sure and strong even without paying that much attention to where I was going.

Dawn had seen the man's legs lying there. I hadn't.

"Pressure.....coming down on me, coming down on me..." Dawn's Queen ringtone. Appropriate.

Just past the ruins again I was able to get back on the phone with 911 and they were sending rescuers and police into the trail. We were to meet them on their way in.

As we came near to the end of the trail, we saw uniforms and atv's, badges and guns, a backboard.

We stopped and talked with the Park Ranger, and African man of stature who was clearly disturbed, but cleanly focused. He asked us a few questions then asked us to wait at the visitor center.

We waited. And got curious. Reflected, wondered.

Eventually we wandered out to get more to drink from the car, and Dawn, who has handled situations like this and worse before in her residence life career, began asking questions.

"We're 80 percent sure its a suicide," said the sherriff's department investigator.

Why here? it's certainly beautiful...isolated. I puzzled over the location--right along the trail. Maybe he wanted to be found. Maybe it as a special spot for him--from his youth, with a love he'd lost...


And I wonder why I want to know.

IKEA...again?

There's been so much response to my IKEA post, and I'm intrigued by this. I will, in the interest of equal time, record here some "off the record" comments from an anonymous person who cites positives about the IKEA experience...I don't agree, but, again, equal time:

1. There was at least one pleasant employee there who had a good attitude and was helpful.

2. The eye rolling asshole probably helped begrudgingly and with attitude because it "wasn't his job," but he helped anyway, which should be cited as a positive.

3. IKEA is able to keep prices lower by having fewer employees.

4. The existing employees probably don't get paid that much, so one's expectations for customer service needn't be so high.

5. If you were at a locally owned or smaller chain furniture store, they would be happy to kiss your ass while you pay more for their product and sign up for their credit plan with a %35 interest rate.

6. Everything we buy these days is made somewhere else, usually China. Other retailers do it, too.

7. Blogging is a place where people just naturally come to bitch. If you give people an opportunity to talk about their bad experiences with anything, they will...that doesn't mean that every experience for every person in IKEA was unpleasant, but those who had pleasant experiences just not to kvetch on the internet.

Again, I don't agree, but the arguments are interesting. I look forward to seeing the responses of others.

50th

This will be my 50th post since I started this little blog in May! Hoorah.

So with something as monumental as post number 50, why don't I have anything interesting to say?

I want someone to do my homework for me. It's hard. And scary.

In other news, Pluto is now simply...Mickey's dog.

I was hoping for more planets.

IKEA

There are pros and cons to any retail establishment. Let it be enough said that...we got the furniture we needed, at a decent price, and very stylish, too.

It's what you have to go through to get it.

The IKEA store in the Atlantic Station area of midtown Atlanta is a big, blue monstrosity--the 15 acre complex includes enough parking for every yuppie in the greater Atlanta area, and some change. There were cars in the lot from all over the Southeast. The building itself is 366,000 square feet and includes a couple of restaurants, a play area for kids, and zillions of pieces of furniture and other home decor items.

There are, as far as I know, two levels to the store--the top level is the furniture showroom, and the bottom level is where you can actually buy shit. Items are classified into two categories--stuff you can pick up yourself, and stuff you have to wait several hours for.

My warnings to those considering shopping at IKEA are as follows:

--there's no signage that explains what to do or how to get things...anywhere.
--there are two people working there for about every 17,000 customers.
--they are both rude.

So we pick out some stuff on the showroom floor, we stay within our budget, and I do an ok job of retaining my sanity through the showroom process.

Then we go to try and actually find the stuff we picked out. No major problems, but we chose two items that fall into the "we go get it because its heavy and then we hand it to you and you carry it" category.

There was never any signage explaining how this process works.

On the nice little slip that explained what the red and yellow tags meant, there was no clue given as to who to approach to get this process started, and well, the two employees on the showroom floor were busy talking to other customers...so we asked a young man allegedly working down in the "pick up your own stuff" area for assistance.

This kid needs an absolute kick in his ass. He helped us, begrudgingly, and laughed sarcastically when Dawn told him the info he needed to look stuff up. She didn't know exactly what the number of two night stands were, but knew the name. Every time--as they narrowed the search for the item--and Dawn missed slightly (and it only took Dawn two tries to give him the correct information) he smarted off and smirked sarcastically...

This pissed me off royally and I spoke out--I told him, hackles raised on my neck--that "I could go find attitude somewhere else, I didn't need his" or something.

He ignored me and finally we got what we needed--but I just didn't appreciate that.

IKEA falls into the category of business I despise--the kind popularized in that most famous and for me, a most hated episode of Seinfeld, the "Soup Nazi."

IKEA, like the soup nazi-have what people want, the price is right, and the demand is so high that they don't have to exhibit a pleasant attitude toward the customer.

I think the Southerner in me really comes out in situations like this. Let the "Soup Nazi" be rude to this Georgia boy, and he'll wear that soup. I'll just go home and make some brunswick stew.

I tend to enjoy shopping places where my business is appreciated.

No one's soup...or furniture...is that good.

Travelblogue

Hello dear and regular readers--

I am updating a new blogging area where I'll post a record of my work travels.

Enjoy!

http://tralalog.blogspot.com/

Be Sure you Secure...

A continuation/update of my previous list of things to be sure are secured for transport in/on your vehicle:

Sofas (Yes. this very morning)
Buckets (Again, a problem today in Atlanta)
Nails (grrr)
Knotted wads of shiny scrap metal
Pets
Deck chairs

Mislaid

Someone at NASA is going to have some SERIOUS overdue fees.

Ala(damn)bama

On Saturday, Dawn and I went over to Birmingham, Alabama to ride some roller coasters at Alabama Adventure (formerly "VisionLand"--whatever that means). We got up early and inspired on Saturday. It was a rare rainy morning.

We stopped on the way out of town to get some cash. I had noticed my tires were making a strange slapping noise. They always make a clicking noise--but this was somehow different. I suspected a possible flat.

Soooo. I checked the tire pressure. 35. 35. 35. 10. 10 lbs of pressure means a problem so we wound up spending a couple of hours waiting to leave as we waited for the Pep Boys to plug the offending tire. We made the best of it, walked in the slow drizzle down the street to the local coffee shop, Jolty's, had some pastry and coffee, and read the paper.

We ventured back to get the car, and soon,everything was ready to go. Sometimes, an inicident like this is enough to squash my travel bug, but not today. We hit the interstate westbound and down.

140 miles later, we arrived in Birmingham. We grabbed a quick lunch and then hit the park. The temperatures had climbed through the humidity, and the day was warm and damp. We first enjoyed the roller coaster that Dawn rates as her NUMBER 1 wooden roller coaster--Rampage. It was worth the drive--a fun ride with lots of high drops and fun curves. Our day was generally much more enjoyable in ways than a day at Six Flags as we were able to ride, pretty much at will, the Rampage without any waiting in line.

I got my first experience riding a Boomerang--and I found this to be a pretty fun and intense ride.

We rode a couple of water rides--the Dawn-described, "world's shortest log flume." We entered the long line for the rapids ride--everyone had high hopes for a good, cooling soaking--in the end, it was hardly worth the wait as we barely even got damp. Still, it was nice to have water on me that wasn't my sweat.

Up the hill for a few more rides on the Rampage, then we headed out. We drove back in some of the rain we left behind in west Georgia, but finally found a lovely, cool late evening when we arrive back in Douglasville, the first real twinge of the idea of Fall.

Snakes on a...Bus?

Someone's pet snake wreaked havoc on a bus in Detroit.

Snakes. Bus. Detroit.

That just seems like a much more funny and enjoyable movie to me.

Snakes on a...Mail Box? Even funnier, but really a much shorter movie.

http://www.politicalgateway.com/news/read/25344

If one searches google news for "snake bus detroit" one finds a surprising array of stray snake stories.

This movie holds less and less interest for me given that America seems to be fighting a constant, real-life battle with these reptilian vermin.

Corrosion

Seizing any opportunity to raise gas prices, the morons at BP made sure that they discovered a bum pipeline in Alaska, causing a shut down in distribution from the Prudhoe Bay area, where 8% of U.S. oil is produced.

So...windfall profits. Let's not spend any of them on maintaining infrastructure.

Just when I was softening up on letting the bastards drill in the ANWR, this tells me again that that's just a bad idea.

I...I Will Survive

"Well I know karate, Voodoo too
I'm gonna make myself available to you
I don't need no make up
I got real scars
I got hair on my chest
I look good without a shirt"
--Tom Waits

So, it's Thursday evening and I made it through my first class! My co-workers are so wonderful, and they make me feel cocky enough to live up to this song sometimes, though the experiences I have had teaching my first class give me a bit of humility, and more to learn.

Tomorrow, I dive in with both feet hard--working on going forward with my new information literacy class, and bringing it on home-- I need to really get moving with that, and then with working to learn more and more about the resource sharing interface, so that I can effectively teach it to library staff around the Southeast.

Thanks to the sweetest woman I know Dawniepants, for being there for me, for calling me at all the right times to give me support, and for loving me in spite of my flaws. She's kind of cool....sometimes. ;).

Tonight we had dinner and wine, and I'm feeling nice as I write this. Dawn feels dizzy...oh so dizzy, but in the best possible way. Yay!

And to any of the SOLINET crew that read this, thank you again for your great card and gift, and for all the great support you give to me at every turn.

Woo hoo!

Throb Throb Throb Throb Throb Throb Throb Throb

A conversation had at 3:30 AM. I've been awake ever since...

"Hello"
(groggily) "Is Craig there."

"There's no Craig here"

"Do you live on Rocky Ridge Blvd.?"

"Yes."

"Hi, this is your downstairs neighbor. I can hear your music, would you mind turning it down."

(angrily) "HOW can you POSSIBLY hear my music? It's only on like 3"

(also angrily) "Obviously I heard it, it woke me up and it's keeping me awake."

"You can't be serious"

"I'm serious, I can hear and feel the bass from your speakers in my apartment."

"It's not even that loud, how can you...how can you hear it?"

"I can hear it. I can feel it. I walk into the hallway and I can hear it on the back wall of my apartment."

"Fine. Whatever. I'll turn it down."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

"Whatever. I'll just turn it off."

Now granted I was grumpy, but I tried to be pleasant. I did get his name wrong, but I have a terribly memory for names and....IT WAS 3:30 in the damn morning!

CLICK.

Thank you for validating my need to do that this morning, Todd. Don't give me your card and tell me to call if/when your music bothers me, and then expect me not to call, even if it's 3:30 AM.

And dude, get some better music.

Throb Throb Throb Throb Throb Throb Throb Throb Throb.

House is Dead.

Big Ol' Jet Fuel Tanker

What a morning yesterday.

I left for work at the usual time, around 6:30 AM. I got onto the interestate to find the usual, pleasant, lighter than average Monday volume. I was focused, I knew that I had a lot to accomplish before Tuesday, that my friend Todd was flying in and we'd meet for lunch in the city, and that the long awaited Tom Waits show was right around the corner on Tuesday evening.

So lots to do, lots to be excited about.

Until...

The traffic report, voiced as always by the velvety Cpt. Herb Emory, excitedly announced "We've got a RED ALERT on the WEST expressway."

Have you ever known a red alert to be good? But when cpt. Herb whips out the Red Alert, he means business.

Overturned fuel tanker. Overturned JET fuel tanker.

So my commute into the city was blocked, I was stuck, and there was really no easy way out.

I patiently listened to Willie, and occasionally flipped back to the traffic report, DENIED a number of those morons who think they can use the emergency lane to their advantage, and eventually made my way to the Thorton Rd. onramp.

Here in Austell, we discover a new breed of driving moron. The "I'm going to block the intersection and I don't care if the light turns red" moron. Grr. So about four redlights and a state trooper intervention later, I make it back onto the interstate, heading back west with only two or three cars along with me, speed limit or stronger and making great time!

I got back home, took a deep breath, and decided to work at home, where I was fairly productive.

Todd very kindly agreed to meet me at the nearest Marta station, and he arrived well after the accident was cleared.

Later in the day, I was very glad to be at home. I learned that there was a potential bomb in midtown, not too far from where I work.

Turns out, a robot bomb sniffer and several hours of blocked streets and police effort later, it was...a prop some advertising company had left lying around. Genius.

IT has been a very strange and sad few days in the Atlanta area. We have been taken aback by the murder on the Silver Comet Trail, jet fuel, fake bombs.

Tom Waits is coming. The moon must be blue.

Friday Willie & Beer Post

Whee. Two Red Stripes and a Corona later, and listening to "the Essential Willie Nelson" with my darling.

It doesn't get much better than this.

"We gonna sit around the kitchen
Fix us somethin' good to eat
And make ourselves a little high
And make the whole day complete
Cuz we gonna lay around the shanty, mama
And put a good buzz on"

"I'm drowning in a whiskey river,
Bathing my mem'ried mind in the wetness of its soul.
Feeling the amber current flowin' from my mind.
And warm an empty heart you left so cold."

Suitable for Framing Friday

"Welcome to the workin' week.
Oh I know it don't thrill you, I hope it don't kill you.
Welcome to the workin' week.
You gotta do it till you're through it so you better get to it"--DPAM Costello

Friday Friday Friday!

What a week.

Locked out Wednesday.
Car troubleThursday.
Headache Friday.

Friday makes it all seem bearable...at least until the drive home in Friday traffic.

It's 8:39 AM and I'm ready for bed.

Post-Modern Blog Entry, or "On Blogging"

There's no real or prevailing thought or theme on my mind this morning, but I feel like I need to post. That makes me analytical--the fact that I feel compelled to write here, even as I'm not particularly inspired, angry, sad, or anxious at the moment. Am I saying "hey! look at me! I'm blogging!" or am I enjoying the expressive outlet that this is? Personally, I think I'm trying to show off my ability to look at the act of blogging in a post-modern way--the blog that eats itself and then spits itself back out...whatever that means.

Why do people do this? It's an amazing thing, really. People bearing their souls, expressing themselves into an ether--do they hope someone will listen? Is it cathartic? More cathartic than conversation with a friend, or a good psychologist, or watching "Ordinary People" and wishing you had a good psychologist like that guy?

Bloggers put stuff out there, they tell their friends and family about it--sometimes, (hi Mom) even though it might embarass them a bit.

I think that people sometimes draw more from the hope that someone will read their thoughts-- moreover their feelings--and give a damn. Or at least empathize. Moreso than I think we the blogonomous, realize sometimes.

Personally, the realist in me doesn't care about that so much. I put it out there for me and whoever wants to read it, and I feel I hit a nerve with people occasionally--both friends and relatives and people at large.

I was amazed and quite giddy when I got several non-solicited comments on my "Driving Tips" entry. Here's another point for analysis. I claim not to care, but let me see a comment when I didn't point a person to that page or otherwise solicit the read/comment and I don't know this person that commented. Certainly, that's a source of a smile. I crossed lines and got a reaction. Who doesn't like attention?

I've made some political entries. I took issue with myself for doing that. This isn't a political blog, and though I do care, and I'm a regular voter, and I try to read and stay informed about the issues, there are people who do that a lot better than me.

The problem lately is I tend to do more to keep my fingers firmly pressed against the pulse of the enemy, and that winds up making me enraged from time to time. Those are personal thoughts and feelings though--anger about a particular political situation. I was going to whine more about gas prices, but...

Anyway, if you can get your fingers on Hannity's neck to take his pulse, at least you got near to his throat. Ronald Regan my ass. This is not a political blog, though we all have political thoughts and feelings or anger about a particular situation, no matter what our leanings are, and I think it is healthy to express them.

So this all floats in the ether. Sometimes it becomes news. Sometimes the ether melts around a person, usually a person who is troubled, and this whole practice gets them into trouble--MySpace, a forum in which I just refuse to participate, has had its share of deviant users. More analysis--good/bad? These people would have been deviant anyway, was it better that they were deviant in an easy, traceable, "public" place?

I'm just asking, I don't know.

That pretty much sums it up. I'm just asking. I don't know.

Tell me.

Props. Elvis and Pants.

An oversight. Two things folks should know about.

Echo and Sway. I've never really heard a lovelier combinaton of two words in song. I've gone without giving credit where credit is due for my blog's title to Elvis Costello, from his song "(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes."

It's a song about acceptance:

I was watching while you're dancing away.
Our love got fractured in the echo and sway.
How come everybody wants to be your friend?
You know that it still hurts me just to say it.

Later, our songwriter concludes:

Oh I used to be disgusted
and now I try to be amused.
But since their wings have got rusted,
you know, the angels wanna wear my red shoes.

I guess even though he can't get or get even with this gal, he's still got his red shoes; and at least aging angels, who like him, just aren't as spry as they used to be--are envious of his shoes.

That's what it means to me anyway.

Pants. Why am I rlpants? Well, during a really fun conversation one night, Dawn and I decided that you can tack pants on the end of any word, and that instantly makes it cuter.

So I hope that I'm cuter with pants on my end.

Thanks Declan, I appreciate the word loan.

Anxiety.

Anxiety.

It's horrible...what is it exactly? Is it an emotion? Certainly if anxiety is an emotion there's no other emotion that feels quite like it. Anxiety is a combination of what? Fear? Worry? Waiting? Need?

Does my brain create anxiety or is it floating in the air, and I catch it like a germ? I feel it's not like a bacterium or a virus floating in the air, but that it's more like one of those advanced chemical or biological agents--separate components that are innocuous alone, but when combined, they create a painful buzzing in my stomach, a sick feeling in my gut. It makes me tired and fills me with dread. Dread. Add that to the list of factors that combine to create this foul disease.

How does one overcome this most horrible of feelings? Drugs? Therapy? How does one overcome the catch 22 of anxiety--of feeling like you want to move or act or get around it, but for some reason, you just can't. You default into laziness or distraction, or you do something that's comfortable like cleaning or seeking solace in the deep dark damp of television.

Anyway. I'm going to stop being a big whiner now, and unlike so many other bloggers, I'm going to figure this out.

Stay tuned.

Sean Hannity is a reckless simpleton.

Sean Hannity is a reckless simpleton.




(Thanks, Karen S.!)

Update. Excitement.

So this has been my toughest, but most productive work week since I've moved to the big, scary city. Things are coming together well-- I'm feeling slightly more rested, I'm getting used to the commute--I've found a good shortcut that keeps me off the treacherous downtown connector--which was a big part of that relief--and I'm getting more and more comfortable with my SOLI-colleages.

I completed a series of "Dry Runs" for the class I'll most often be teaching--both the live face-to-face version and the online version. The online stuff was easier than I'd thought, though I still have to develop a teaching style to fit that better. I have a week to think, re-organize, and get ready before I go live on August 1. That's also the same day that I'll be seeing Tom Waits--my first Atlanta concert since the move.

During the dry run process, I found my colleagues here to be completely supportive and nurturing. Max, Marlee, Heather, and all my attendees were just wonderful to work with, and kind even in their constructive criticism.

We're moved in and pretty well settled into our space, a few nic nacs here and there not withstanding. We're finding things to keep us busy, to entertain us--from ducks, to a nice movie theater, to well... Driving to Six Flags or Atlanta for fun.

We've had guests over (my parents) and we now have a dining table.

We're getting a little exercise, walking, and I've found Hunter Park very conducive to the outdoor activities I enjoy--there's some nice tennis courts, a walking track, and I always seem to be able to find an empty baseball field to take some swings in, and work out my aggression. I look forward to getting on the bicycle sometime soon, but maybe we'll do more of that in the Fall, when we can drive down to the Silver Comet Trail and enjoy air that's a bit more brisk than the sultry, damp stuff we're seeing right now.

I'm extremely excited about life for the first time in awhile. Yay!

You are Outnumbered...

We elect our government officials and representatives to carry out the will of the people. President Bush is out of touch with the majority on this one, in favor of his base on the far religious right:

From Gallup:

Next, I'm going to read you a list of issues. Regardless of whether or not you think it should be legal, for each one, please tell me whether you personally believe that in general it is morally acceptable or morally wrong. How about -- [RANDOM ORDER]?

L. Medical research using stem cells obtained from human embryos

	Morally acceptable	Morally wrong	Depends on situation (vol.)	Not a moral issue (vol.)	No opinion
	%	%	%	%	%
2006 May 8-11	61	30	3	*	6

So, the next time, Bush, you decide to veto funding for research that can, in the long term, help millions of people--instead of dragging out some test tube babies--pretty, perfect, healthy, rich republican children (you don't seem to take issue with those who spend hundreds of thousands of dollars to create more embryos than they need in pursuit of a "natural born child" when our orphanages, and orphanages worldwide, are full) for your stump speech, why don't you surround yourself with children with diabetes...paraplegic children. Children from families struggling to get by, to pay the medical bills, to make their child feel happy and healthy and loved no matter what their disability? Why don't you take a minute and look into their eyes?

Why don't you take a few minutes to talk to Nancy ? To Ron, Jr.?

Tell them why you won't let the federal government work to help people with alzheimers.

Tell me why you won't help families who have to watch their parent's minds age away into a fog?

Your argument--"It crosses a moral boundary that our decent society needs to respect."

Cancer. Alzheimers. Parkinsons. Paralysis. They would fade away faster if you would just wise up.

Duck Redux

Dawn and I visited the ducks again last night.

It was a pleasant enough evening, given the heat of the day behind us, and we enjoyed a walk around the baseball and softball fields, and then around the pond.

There were no violations. At least none that we saw...

We did notice the big red-headed, gross looking male duck from before scuttling off down a hill all alone, far removed from the rest of his kind.

Jerk.

Driving Redux

A couple of items to list, based on daily Atlanta area traffic reports, my Dawnie's experience this morning, and personal experience--to the list of items to secure:

--A load of smallish boxes full of paper
--Feathers

Another pet peeve or two, too:

1. That space that I choose to leave between my car and the car in front of me IS NOT designed for you to slide into and slam on your brakes.

2. If you're stuck in a slow lane of traffic and see me gaining speed because I've, for once, picked the "good" lane:

1. Don't cut in front of me
2. If you can't resist that impulse, don't cut in front of me and slow me down.

Sean Hannity is a scared little boy.

Sean Hannity is a scared little boy.

Tom Waits

1 August 2006.

Atlanta, Georgia.

The Tabernacle.

I've Got tickets. Yay.





"I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy."

"The large print giveth, and the small print taketh away"

"Well I know karate, Voodoo too
I'm gonna make myself available to you
I don't need no make up
I got real scars
I got hair on my chest
I look good without a shirt on"

"I dont want my hair to fall out
I dont wanna be filled with doubt
I dont wanna be a good boy scout
I dont wanna have to learn to count
I dont wanna have the biggest amount
I dont wanna grow up"

Ten Traffic Tips

Here are just a few simple, ethical, and safe rules to help you with the morning commute in Atlanta. I personally have the I-20 east bound commute into the city. It's a hoot and a holler every morning, for sure.

and now, these simple tips...

1. Gawking. Our necks should be red, not rubber. Even if people in the 3,000 cars in front of you are gawking at the emergency vehicles and the blood stained and oil steaming hunks of metal left in the emergency lane, don't YOU look. Nope. Stop! Don't look. Don't you dare.

2. Ladders. Please, if you have to carry a ladder on your vehicle secure it. This also holds true for pets, copper tubing, rocks, meteorites, cardboard boxes, monkey wrenches, boards with nails in them, logs, lounge chairs, port-a-potties, chickens, lab rats, drill bits, bungee cords, toilets, hot water heaters, surfboards, bob seger records, diapers, and last, but not least, small children.

3. Speed. Do you really think weaving in and out of traffic at 110 miles an hour is going to consistently get you there faster? Do you REALLY want to get to work that badly?

4. Weaving. Do you really think that moving side to side quickly and dangerously as opposed to waiting patiently to go forward is going to get you there any faster?

5. Get OFF my ass. I'm not going to move until I'm damn good and ready...I will gladly move when I accomplish whatever driving goal I had in mind when I moved into a fast lane. Until then, back off. I'd love it if you bought me a new trunk, but that's gonna make us both late.


6. Ok...be nice on occasion. Let a guy over, especially if you don't really even have to break (brake?) driving stride to do it. DON'T however, be a sucker and let a whole lane of traffic over, grandpa.

If a lane is ending and there's been a sign for the past 20 miles to merge out of it, you've dutifully done so even though it means going slower-- don't be the sucker to let the jerk who's fast tracked it to the end of the lane--while you got over and waited patiently-- in.

7. If you drive in the emergency lane to get around traffic, I hope you get arrested. Don't let any jerk who jets around traffic in the emergency lane in, either. If you do, you should be arrested along with them.

8. Radio stations/Traffic reports--why, tell me WHY do you have to put the sounds of emergency vehicles, car crashes, or honking horns into your lead in music? Those sounds are indicative of danger and a signal for a driver to take action. Playing them on the radio can be dangerous.

9. If you're thinking of driving the 1986 Cutlass Supreme that's been wrecked twice, has a damaged, smoky muffler, bleeds fluids like the Russian royal family, has one working headlight, fewer working break lights, and gets 4 miles to the gallon--please, think again.

If after your deep think about this, you still decide to drive it, don't ever, ever, ever drive it in the fast lane.

10. Apply Make Up? Under the seat CD searching? ipod browsing? Reading up for the proposal you're making this morning and that you're already 10 minutes late and way under prepared for? The morning paper?...no.

Note: Blogger is not a traffic expert or driving instructor. This was written as a humorous(?) diversion. Do not try this in your own car. Mr. Pants is not responsible for damage, personal injury, or work time lost due to following these traffic tips. Tips may cause spleen damage. If you have a commute lasting more than four hours, this is a problem. Contact your boss immediately and quit. Actual results may vary.

Gas pt. II or, how to be a rich in America

Have a rich daddy.

Get elected using family fortune under questionable circumstances.

Create environment of fear after country' s luck finally runs out.

React irrationally to international incidents.

Start war with wrong country.

Rely on irrational media manipulation of your irrational response.

Ignore REALLY dangerous/crazy dictators until their best missle explodes shortly after launch.

Listen to Sean Hannity Regan ("Reagan Star Wars. Regan. Star Wars. Reagan. Star Wars. SDI, whee!)

React irrationally, etc. etc.

Oil price--same. Fuel price--raised based on...speculation?

Maintain diplomatic status quo.

Ignore congress.

Line pockets with "windfall profits."

Gas

It's time to vent about gasoline prices again. I'm sitting on pretty near empty right now, after our first trip to Macon since my departure for Consuela's birthday.

$2.94/Gallon.

Windfall profits.

Former oilmen in power. The Horrible Trouble with Hally-burton.

$2.94/Gallon.

North Korea. Instability. Any good excuse.

$2.94/Gallon.

Windfall profits.

Gouge the American consumer until they are complacent.

Sell the SUV.

Hybrid this.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Doin' it Ducky in Douglasville

Things are finally getting settled for Dawn and me in Douglasville. It really is a lovely town, despite a recent description in a new city guide (I heard about this on the radio) as a "haven for rednecks and hillbillies"..."Like Hee Haw." If that's truly the case, then I'm happy to be at home with rednecks and hillbillies.

There's lots to do in Douglasville--a great movie theater, any speciality store you can imagine (well, except nice organic/natural foods), nice parks and a good range of restaurants. It's not as uptown as Atlanta, but it's a nice suburb with a slow pace
Feeling settled, Dawn and I chose last night as the first time to go exploring in Hunter Park. It's right down the road from us, so we hopped in the car and were there in less than a minute.

There we found a nice pond with a walking track around it, open fields and spaces, baseball fields (I'm looking forward to getting in some Sunday morning swings soon!) and..well...Ducks.

A lot of ducks. One goose. White ducks. Big black and white ducks with red rooster heads. Brown ducks. Wood ducks. A Whitman's Sampler duck explosion.


We hit the trail in the wrong direction, observing the "wildlife" along the way. The pond is full of little bream and crappie, and a few people were dipping fishing lines in more as a means of relaxation than as seeking sustinance from the tiny fish. Ducks. Everywhere.

People on the track/trail were very focused on their exercise, whizzing around, swinging arms, perfect posture, speed walking. We walked on to the little off trail trail and discovered a some grass, trees, and a giant mound of bright red Georgia clay. Wow!

So back onto the track type trail and around for another lap. Midway through we stopped for a walk out onto one of several little fishing/observation piers around the pond. As we walked out, one of the big red ducks was harassing the little white ones.

To what end, we did not yet know. This was a complex game of cat and mouse, the bigger, red headed duck in hot pursuit of the prim little pristine white ducky, who was having none of it. She flew, swam, ducked, and dodged, and for awhile, avoided the red head's persistent attack.

Thing was, he wasn't attacking. He was flirting.

The red head finally made his most aggressive move and...well, mounted the little white duckie right there on the lake. Get a room, duckies!

"Now, why ain'nobody chasin' me like that?" we heard a nice lady exclaim from the pier.

"Hello duckie. I like your brown spots."

Baseball Post

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about baseball.

Soccer, hockey, basketball, college baseball--all are in the process of or have recently crowned champions.

Lord Stanley's cup in the Carolinas. College World Series champions...in Oregon? My late friend John Dye, who hated most sports, wouldn't have been happy with an Oregon State Championship in anything. He worked on his PhD at Oregon and was of the belief that nothing good ever came from Corvalis. But who plays baseball in Oregon? Where did these kids come from?

Soccer. So much talk of the U.S. team's failure in the world's most popular sport. Sometimes, this country's lack of international conformity ticks me off...however, this is a case where my sporting spirit is aroused.

This country was founded on originality/non-conformity. We don't do well with international stuff.

Let's face it, there's not much new under the sun--sports, like songs, (the Beatles invented most rock song structures and styles, which were derived from blues, country, soul, and jazz, and back it goes...) have mostly been done before. Generally, sports are based on the "goal/ball, etc." model.

There's two thingies on each end of some sort of playing surface. You guard yours, and try to exploit your enemy's/opponent's. This idea is downright militaristic, really. I wonder how a team of Iraqi insurgents would fare against the American military in a game of soccer? How about a game of baseball? Best 4 out of 7? I'm pretty sure we could take them, and no one would care if we kicked them in the shins.

Baseball isn't even a wholly original game. Cricket, Rounders. End of history lesson.

To me, baseball is wholly different than cricket or rounders, because I've played it, and I understand it. Good ol' American baseball has very complex rules (raise your hand if you truly understand the infield fly rule?) and its intricacies make it "boring" to a lot of people. . .

...And I don't blame them for finding it boring. Truly, I don't understand the intricacies of soccer, but I don't think its intricacies are...as intricate.

Baseball is a truly elegant game. There's no arguing this--no sport requires a more well-rounded athlete--strength, hand-eye coordination, vision, leaping ability, the ability to play well on both offense and defense...baseball players do lots of things well, including what is universally considered the most difficult thing in all sports--hitting a ball, 3 inches in diameter-- thrown pretty much AT you at speeds approaching 100 mph-- with a 2 1/4 inch bat.

What about other sports?

I think American (particularly the professional brand) football is really the wussiest sport. They make a major production number of playing 2 hours once a week on Sundays with a long break between halves, extended dancing in the end zone, prissy padding and prima donnas to spare. Loosely based on rugby--which they play in shorts and no pads and helmets. Rugby players...not wusses.

Hockey players. Not wusses.

While this is another ball/goal/surface game, there's a variation--the ball's a puck and the surface is ice. These guys skate!!! Hockey games go on for hours. Most players are missing teeth. There's strength, endurance...hockey players go out there almost every night during a very lengthy season...there's always blood spurting, hard checking, high sticking action. Do hockey players whine? Never. Badasses, all.

Soccer. Yet another ball/goal sport, this is another one played on grass. zzz. the ball is round. The only real hitch is you can't use your hands. Well. Unless you're the goalie. There's an idea, have the goalie on equal..."footing" with everyone else--he only uses his feet, then you've got a better, more high scoring sport!

So you started kicking a ball when you were 2. You got better at it, and some people got better at it than others. You kick the ball. You sometimes hit it with your head. If you're a goalie, you are allowed to catch the ball in your hands. Endurance is required, but often, there are long pauses or breaks in the action when players, hands on hips, casually walk about the field.

As a soccer fan, you wait. And wait....and wait some more.

I can find the nuance in every single pitch of a baseball game, anticipate what the pitcher, catcher, and batter are thinking, and know that each infielder and outfielder are thinking about the current situation. Players consider what they need to do in a seemingly endless list of possible scenarios so that they are ready to execute. Still, sometimes the execution fails.

Soccer. Kick it to that guy. He's good. Nope, no opening there. Kick it back to that other guy.

Now, I know there's attacking, strategies, etc. in Soccer--but the number of soccer strategies is finite! That's why I can hang in, watch, and enjoy soccer for maybe 30 minutes before I get completely bored with it.

Even those American football wussies can come up with a variety of different plays to run--and they all have cool names like flea flicker, Statue of Liberty (it only works once, don't throw it away...) reverses, fakes, and more....

But no other sport has the bunt. The bunt is the one sports play in the world that's almost impossible to defense, even if the defensive team knows its coming. A well-placed bunt requires the defense to execute perfectly to get a free out. There's also varations on the bunt theme--bunting for a base hit for the faster guys, the "straight sacrifice" to move a runner over, the squeeze offers endless thrills and comes in two varieties-- the safety squeeze, and my favorite--the suicide squeeze--this is where there's a guy on third, he starts barreling straight for home and hopes and prays for two or three things--most importantly that the guy at the plate got the signal and bunts, because if he swings the runner could get a bat or ball right in the face...if the batter does nothing, then the runner is sure to be out. Now that's high drama.

Kick the ball to that guy. Nope. Nothing there. Kick it back. zzz.

So in a season where my hometown, favorite team the Atlanta Braves are bad after 14 straight years of mostly goodness, I'm slowly converting to Detroit Tiger-ism (I have a weakness for worst to first teams).

In a very sporty summer, I'm trying to understand why the rest of the world is surprised or even cares that we don't play well with them when it comes to sports.

Earlier this summer, in a baseball tournament that was engineered to let the Americans win (World Baseball Classic) at America's past time against the rest of the world, we managed a resounding loss.

The bottom line--there's no money in playing well with others, and money is what brings America to play.

Go Beavers.

Finally!

It took me forever to get that silly vacation blogged. I'm glad that things are getting back to normal. Look for updates and corrections to the vacation blog. I'll also be adding some photos over time. For now, I'm happy to be successfully relocated, along with Dawniepants, to Douglasville, GA.

Dawn will begin work next week at the University of West Georgia in Carrollton, GA, and henceforth, there will be no sad lamentations from 297 miles away.

Our move was stressful, but well managed. Four days on the road in a big truck...a load from Georgia, a load from North Carolina.

whee, we're settling in. Dawn, she's amazing...organizing the kitchen and the clothes while I just sort of stare at and occasionally empty boxes and do all the heavy lifting and electronic set ups.

So, dear readers, today is just an update to get me moving back in the right direction. I've got some great ideas for future entries, and look for me to be spending more time with you as I'm able very soon.

Day Eleven, Chicago, IL to Dalton, GA

June 5, 2006

Lots and Lots and Lots and Lots and Lots of driving to do.

So ...let's break it up by stopping at amusement parks!

We headed out early, early, early on Monday morning--we hit the road by 7 with quite a ways to go. Dawn drove us through the outskirts of Chicago, then we headed South toward Indianapolis.

Our first stop was right outside of Indy. Stupid time zones. I have no idea what time it is most of the time in Indiana. Suddenly, it was Eastern time again. I anticipated being able to get a sausage biscuit and a cup of coffee at any McDonalds. Instead, at what I think is 9:30, the menu at McDonalds stops and changes right before my eyes. Arrgggh! Yet another reason never to eat there anymore.


So instead of McDonald's, I settle for a pretty good cup of gas station coffee and a snack cake, Little Debbie style.


We drive on, hit Indianapolis where I have to play the song!

"Can't go west, can't go east
I'm stuck in Indianapolis with a fuel pump that's deceased
Ten days on the road now I'm four hours from my home town
Is this hell or Indianapolis with no way to get around"

You can only really go North and South on Indianapolis's perimeter, which adds deliciously to the punniness of the chorus. Thanks to Dawn for that bit of info.

Just inside of Indy, my mom called, and my dad was in the hospital. Later that day, he an an appendectomy. I was so far away, I couldn't do anything, and I thought, well, dad would want us to have fun sooo. . .


From Indianapolis, it didn't seem all that far to Louisvlle, KY where we stopped first at Arby's for a sandwhich--the slowest Arby's on earth mind you and then to Six Flags Kentucky Kingdom. I caught up with Mom on the phone while we were having lunch and things were slightly scary with dad, but overall ok.


We rode Chang, which is kind of a bigger, better Georgia Scorcher--but not by much. We rode "Greezed Lightnin" one of the rare, remaining Shwarzkopf rides (along with the Mindbender at SFOG, one of my favorites)--You get launched into a loop, then up at an angle, then back down and through the loop, back through the station, up another length of angled track and then back to the station--very fun, but apparently they slow it down too much now when it goes back through the station. They had a crappy wanna be Batman ride that just beat me, we half expected stuff to come flying off it at any time. We then rode their two wooden coasters, Twisted twins---neat because you can ride it in two different directions, and Thunder Run, a good, solid ride.

So whee! How spontaneous are we? With season passes and $5 parking, it was a good way to pass some time and stretch our legs.

We drove on. And on. Then we started to see signs for Bowling Green and our interest was peaked.

Bowling Green is home to Beech Bend Amusments. We thought we would stop there on the way up, but talked ourselves out of it. We were glad that we did, because when we arrived, we learned that their new roller coaster was shut down that day because it had been hit by lightning.

Beech Bend is mostly a very every day kind of park, not too different than a county fair. You have to ride through a good stretch of rural farmland to get to it...They have a mouse ride, a beat up county fair style steel coaster with a loop (rare apparently)...and a few other rides....

BUT

They went out and spent several million dollars on the Kentucky Rumbler....

We arrived at the park, nestled gently in central time, with about an hour left to ride. Dawn insisted that we ride the steel coaster, but she at least waited to do that second. The rumbler was a damn fine ride, we can to equate it to a "mini thunderhead," with some of the same good qualities and sensations as the DollyWood ride, but still not nearly quite so good.

The steel coaster beat me up a bit, the cars were tiny and the loop, given its tightness, was just punishing.

We then went back for several more rides on the Kentucky Rumbler and we enjoyed it a bunch.

We headed out with a few minutes to spare just before closing but...

We had to go back. Dawn had forgotten about their mouse ride and insisted that we catch it. We did, it was mildly fun and sort of spinny.

Driving mode. Big time.

Just outside of Bowling Green, we saw...not the world's biggest, the world's best, or the 2nd largest or whatever flea market...we saw what is 'the World's Most Awesome Flea Market.' yay!
We hit Tennessee just as darkness was closing in around 8...lightning flashed and bounced across the rolling hills, but we avoided the storm. We hit Nashville, and shortly after, stopped for dinner at a Waffle House. We needed the nourishment and coffee fix at this point and we enjoyed our meal, shuffled over to a gas station and fueled up, and headed back to the road.

The stretch between Nashville and Chattanooga is daunting at night--hilly and curvy, even on the interstate. We got through that and then into Northern Georgia for about 10 miles, then back out--so close, yet still so far...we hit Chattanooga about 10:30. Then we hit a wall at Dalton and just couldn't make it on in to Cedartown. We stayed at a very creepy Best Western, but the bed was comfortable enough.

So, in one day we drove around 700 miles, hit two amusment parks, my dad survived his appendix removal, and we got back almost...home.

Day Ten, Chicagoland

June 4, 2006

The last day in Chicagoland. Dawn's Dad and Mary Beth are pitching a cookout. The midwesterners, they like to cook out a lot in the spring and summer. It's not as big a deal in the South where we can cook out, probably, ohh, 300 or more days a year comfortably.

It's a bit harder to get the grill started when its encased in ice I reckon.

Today, I'd meet a lot of Dawn's extended family and Mary Beth's family.

We started out by meeting Dawn's dad...and Dawn's dad's new bike. This is the neatest contraption--a motorized bicycle with a simple battery and electric motor drive set up so that you don't have to pedal if you don't want to. I rode it down the block a bit. It was heavy, and tall, and Dawn had trouble riding it. It was pretty fun though the thing will go pretty fast!

We then went inside and settled into a comfortable couch. Dawn, who was struggling with allergies and the Indiana Beach crud I'd likely given her took benadryl and soon fell asleep in my lap. I was on my own...

I met Hugh, Betty, Hugh, jr, Hugh Jr's wife, Dawn's Aunt Sharon, her cousin Paul....lots of people!

Mary Beth's mom, Betty, is grand. In her working years, she was a flight attendant for TWA and had fascinating stories of travel. More recently, she had visited Macon and Savannah during a time when she was stranded, post 9/11, in Georgia just prior to a vacation trip out of the country. She has a wonderfully outgoing spirit and attitude, and in spite of some recent health problems, maintains a lovely energy and enthusiasm. She made me feel very welcome with her warmth and spirit.

Hugh, Sr. and Hugh, Jr., Mary Beth's dad and brother, are both attorneys. They were really fun to talk to, even if, at times, I felt slightly cross examined! Somehow, they discovered my southern accent where others didn't.

Hugh, Jr.: "You're from the south, I bet you're a republican?"
Pants: "Umm, no, not at all actually."

They were both very good conversationalists--topics ranged from southern geography and racism to pre-nuptial agreements and living wills. Hugh fascinated with me a story I was familiar with about his brother's participation in the taking of Mt. Surabachi at Iwo Jima during World War II, and Ira Hayes, who was immortalized in song by Johnny Cash.

We talked about cubs vs. sox and other sports related issues.

We then had a very nice lunch--dogs, burgers, sausages, chips, beer. Everyone had a great time talking and eating.

At some point during lunch, I made my one, unfortunate comment and embarassed Dawn's dad. About some issue in the aforementioned family videos, he said "I don't know what I was thinking that day!" and I observed that he'd had on really, really tight jean shorts that were probably cutting off circulation and imparing his thinking. Oh well. I wanted to show balls, too though.

After lunch, and a spot of dangerous front yard softball during which the neighborhood windows became endangered-- Dawn's dad led us on a long walk down to the Des Planes river through a local park/wild life preserve.

Yankees are funny. They're afraid of deer! Watch them! They might run at you! We did see several beautiful deer, amazing to me how close they are to people.

I think a lot of it was show for the kids though. At least I hope so. Hugh, Jr's kids were a lot of fun and they went walking with us, along with Jason, Dawn's cousin Paul, Dawn, me, and Dawn's dad. There were tales of alien abduction, satanic sacrafice, and mysterious monsters dwelling in the deep woods by the river. Dawn's dad is really entertaining, and I think she must have had fun with him when they were kids.

We did see several beautiful deer, amazing to me how close they are to people.

We walked all the way down to the banks of the river, where even those of us with good shoes struggled to stay upright. Dawn did well, even though she had on sandals that weren't the best for muddy river bottom hiking.

We came back and settled in, folks began to leave and it was nice for us to have some time just with Dawn's dad and Mary Beth. We chatted, listened to music, and played some pool. I played fairly respectably, though Dawn's dad pretty well mopped the floor with me.

We seemed to get Dawn's dad's blessing and endorsement at the end of the day as we were leaving....and that felt positive.

....A very nice day.

Day Eight--Chicago, IL

June 2, 2006

Thanks so much to John, Judy, Rick, and Mary Beth for an amazing day!

Today, we'd finally go into the city again! I was very much looking forward to some in town Chicago time. We headed out around 9:30 and got the El. We got off the El and began to walk around. We went over and under the layers of street and sub-street that make up Chicago's streets. We got out of that for awhile, and walked over to Millenium Park, and started toward Grant Park and the famous Buckingham Fountain, but we realized time was short and we had a distance to walk yet to meet Dawn's Aunt Judy and Uncle John, her Dad, and Mary Beth by the river for the Architecture Tour.

I was so very excited about the tour. Everyone I'd talked to about Chicago who'd been spoke of its excellence. There are lots of tour boats on the Chicago River, but the Chicago Architecture Foundation offers a 90 minute boat tour with an informed docent who offers fascinating facts and insights about Chicago's varied buildings and skyscrapers.

About 2/3 through the tour, out of the grey, and without warning from any morning weather report, it began to rain! We thought we could handle it, but the drops were big and cold--so we took shelter below decks. The rain soon stopped, so we went back up top. The docent was very smart and very detailed--he showed us the health club where Oprah and Senator Obama are members. He offered interesting facts and figures about all the buildings, how they fit the landscape, how they were influenced by other, surrounding buildings, and essentially, why the landscape of Chicago is as it is...for better or worse.

There were giant disasters--The former post office, once the world's largest and has since been replaced by the new world's largest post office--was attractive structurally, but the internal space was ill managed across multiple floors so it had to be replaced. That and its on the National Register of Historic Places, so it can't be destroyed.

I learned thatThe Sear's Tower, the nation's tallest, is actually composed of 9 buildings, arranged in a way that would allow it to continue to go higher, not limited structurally from bearing more height, but only by the FAA who asked them not to build it any taller.

Buildings, old and new, all accompanied by stories frame the Chicago skyscape. It's an amazingly beautiful town, and if you go, be sure to take the tour. If you're from St. Louis or Michigan, be nice, even though the river is designed to dump the worst of Chicago onto you.

After the tour, we were all hungry. We headed down to Uno's for their famous deep dish pizza.

It was yummy. We had some beer, pizza, and good conversation. We learned that Dawn's dad had been there ages ago, and forced to endure onions on his pizza! Ew!

After a very lovely late lunch, we all walked down to the famous Marshall Field's store, which will sadly, be converted to Macy's. The retailer has a lot of history and tradition. After Marshall Field's, Rick and Mary Beth had to head back to the burbs, so we said goodbye.

We then hopped down and around the theater district for a few minutes, saw the world's tallest religious structure (Methodist for those of you who are curious), and for our last visit, the Palmer House, to take some pictures for my mom.

We said goodbye to John and Judy, who'd been wonderful tour guides and very generous, and hopped back onto the El for our ride back to the burbs.

We got back and we were kind of lying around. Our late lunch diminished around 9 and we went out for dinner at a local eatery--they are all over the suburbs--good food, variety...We shared a milk shake for dessert and then headed back for a nap. S i g h. We're really tired now.

Day Nine--Chicagoland

June 3, 2006

It was the day I had dreaded since the beginning. Bridesmaid's dress day.

Dawn was to meet Sue at her house (again, way out the Ike) to get the group organized and then drive over to David's Bridal in who knows what 'burb (there are so many, I'm losing track at this point) and pick out, get fitted for a bridesmaid's dress. Sue did have an innovation--choose from these dresses, pick then one that best fits your body type, etc, but you'll all get it in the same color.

Smart.

What am I supposed to do while all these women try on dresses for two hours?

I asked. I begged. I just wanted Dawn to drop me off at the nice little Caribou coffee in LaGrange and let me hang out there until they were done. I didn't wanna go! I wanted them to have their girl time.

Dawn wanted me to eat lunch with them when they were done and meet them all. I was trapped in a gi-normous catch-22, and I finally hit my head against the wall of social "on-ness."

So what did Mr. Grumpypants do? When we arrived at Sue's, he chose to sat in the car. He was extracted, not very willingly, by Dawn. He met everyone as pleasantly as he could (Sue's sister, Sue's MOM! Sheesh! girls everywhere!) and finally calmed down a bit. Everyone went into Sue's house for awhile, he just stood around outside.

So finally, Dawn comes back out, and Mr. Grumpypants feels better once he insists that we follow them to the dress store. "IF I can only have a car, I can escape."

..And I did. As soon as we got to the shop, I skeedaddled out of there. I drove around and found this nice sort of wholesale, cut out bin bookstore. It was a big store, full of stuff, and I spent a couple of hours reading and browsing and rather enjoyed myself.

Dawn finally called and everyone was happier, I was happier. I still felt a little like I was intruding on girl time, but I kept my usual witty banter mostly to myself and enjoyed our faux-nese lunch at the Panda Express.

What else we did that day is kind of a blur to me. It's been awhile.

Day Seven, Chicagoland

June 1, 2006

Following the Cubs game, we both were very tired and not feeling that great, so we got a good sleep--Jason's apartment is very nice, and he keeps it very cool and comfortable, ideal for sleeping. The major problem living on central time...sheesh. The sun comes up really early--around 5:30--and right through the window of the guest room.

This particular morning, we were able to sleep a bit. We had no real obligations for the day, so we buzzed around the suburbs, looking at all the different places Dawn had lived, worked, and gone to school. She showed me the famous car sculpture (most notably featured in Wayne's World but NOT in Aurora) , her high school, various "Berwin bungalows" where her family had lived. We went through Berwin, Oak Park, Forest Park, Riverside..and then some. The "Big Ben, Parliament" of the Chicago suburbs was the Des Plaines river, which we must've crossed 100 times while in the area.

The highlight of the day was a stop for a mid morning coffee at a Caribou in what I think was my favorite suburb, La Grange. Its a lovely little area with lots of restaurants, coffee shops, bookstores, speciality stores, a movie theater--a little of everything all within a square mile. We enjoyed our coffee--it was very soothing on my throat, which was still rather sore at this point--and thumbed through the local "what's going on in Chicago and the burbs" paper.

For lunch, we stopped into the restaurant where Dawn used to work, a Chicago area institution--Portillo's. I had the classic Italian beef sandwich, cheese fries, and a coke. They had lovely cake but there was no room for dessert after eating this...this...thing. Dripping with au jus, a soft french bread roll is smothered in italian style spiced beef, onions, peppers and who knows what else. Pretty tasty, I must admit, even as I've try to kick the beef habit. I'm on vacation, leave me alone.

Stuffed, we rolled out of the restaurant and tooled around a bit more. We did a mid afternoon stop over at Dawn's dad's house, where we happened to catch her step mom, Mary Beth in. She welcomed us warmly, we met the family cat, and sat chatting for awhile until Dawn's friend Sue called us to join her for dinner at Lalo's--another fine suburban institution, this time the food of choice was Mexican.

At Lalo's, the food is very spicy and authentic, and every guest gets a warm and hearty cup of mexican chicken soup that is one of Dawn's favorites. In addition to chips and salsa, each table gets a plate of cold, spicy vegetables to enjoy--carrots, roasted garlic, and more with a definitive and spicy heat juxtaposed against a physical chill...very nice. I got a sampler platter, all with chicken--including a chilie relleno, taco, and a couple of other items. It was so much food I couldn't nearly finish it all.

After dinner, we followed Sue "up the Ike" to her house, a cute little place she keeps with her fiancee' Eric. They have two dogs, a new and lively rescued golden, and Sue's childhood dog____she's had since she was 16! Eric was way into college baseball. He had played at Cumberland Univ. in Tennessee, and in his travels, he'd played at Rome's Berry College, only about 20 minutes from where I grew up in Cedartown. He remembered it distinctly as during the game, several deer jumped the outfield fence and ran past him. We had good conversation about geography, life, baseball, graduate school, education and I enjoyed meeting him. I look forward to their wedding in January. I just looked up to see how his alma mater Cumberland did in the tournament--and they allll but won the NAIA College World Series...Soooo close! they lost 5-4 in 11 innings in the final. Urg.

After the long day, we packed it in and headed back to Jason's for a rest, watched a little TV, and went to bed fairly early. Tomorrow, Chicago.