Truck Nutz!

Yeah, them's truck nutz. Extra large, silver. Stay classy, Oakland.

That totem seems like it creates a good segue to some thoughts about a show I saw on Thursday night. And by show, I mean "rock show". I went with JFB to see Shellac and Arcwelder at the Great American Music Hall. I think I have seen Shellac 4 times and at least three of those shows were with James. Its likely grounded in our history: we met when I made fun of his Big Black t-shirt. Boy, I must have thought I was cute. Anyway, it was a really fun time for a number of reasons, and Shellac isn't really in the top five.

1. It started "early", i.e. 9:00 p.m. That's when Arcwelder started. They played well and enthusiastically for an hour, and Shellac was on by 10:30. This is veritable warp speed in the indie rock scene. I was driving home by midnight. Unprecedented show efficiency.

2. The reason it started early is because we are all getting old. I haven't been to see a band play in 3 years, but one reason I avoid it is because the rest of the crowd is usually so young. But this crowd was just as old as I am, and older. The guys were in their 30s and 40s when I was in my early twenties are now in their 40s and 50s, and they were there, making me feel young. Another benefit of this aging together is that Arcwelder in particular has morphed from a group of young guys out on tour to a group of guys in their 30s/40s whose kids are old enough that their wives said, "sure, you can play two shows in San Francisco," and they took a week off work to go re-live their glory days.

3. That's why the bands seemed more admirable than they were 15 years ago. The appreciated the audience, played their best, and had a great time. It was infectious. I liked Arcwelder more than I had remembered, and slightly more than Shellac. More on that.

4. The show was such a sausage party (that means all guys, MIL) that there was no line for the women's bathroom. That's never happened in my life. It was a cause of much hilarity in the women's bathroom that the men's room line had 20 guys on it. Women said things like, "I wish I were single!" and "I've never seen this many straight guys in the Bay Area in one place!"

5. It's always fun to hang out with James, even if its too loud to even think, much less talk.

As for Shellac, they remain the same. Unbelievably tight, intricate, loud, angry rock. They barely look like they've aged a day, but they looked sort of haggard 15 years ago. They don't look worse, and they still put on a great show. Albini goes in too much for the Word Jazz, though, and sometimes I just thought, "shut up and play."

Another downside, I still haven't shook the standard "show back/leg/knees" that sets in near the end of the opening band. You know, that pain that results from standing, back and knees locked, head and foot bobbing, for 3-4 hours. It's making me hesitant to see another band in the next 3 years. On the other hand, Sonic Youth is playing in Oakland soon, and I'd like to see them before I die, so who knows. . . .

Onward

I want to say a non-chronological thing or two about Nicaragua. First of all, the fruit is amazing. The bananas were the best I have ever eaten. But the bananas revealed something else, which is that bananas in this country must be heavily subsidized because we say way more mangoes there than bananas, but mangoes in this country cost $1-4 each, while bananas cost 20 cents each. Or $2 a bunch or something, right? I always thought each mango tree must grow 1 mango a year or something and that's why they cost so much. In fact, mangos grow almost like berries; the tree is covered with them. So I assume mangos' price in the US reflects something close to the true cost of getting them all the way up here, while bananas are subsidized or something.

The damn banana lobby.

Something else: We really take our water, sanitation and sewage systems for granted around here. Because when you don't have stable systems, its a huge bummer, and much less happens if you have to worry about those basics.

Those are just two obvious, and possibly baseless, observations.

On Thursday of our visit, the big event was a sailing trip with Matt and Katie, folks Carl and Angie met down there. They were really nice hosts and totally effortless sailors (i.e., I never freaked out for a second that anything bad was going to happen even though I was in a tiny vessel in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Nicaragua, not a place I ever saw myself). It was one of the most relaxed times I had, because everything was in someone else's hands, including my kids. Q was napping back at the house, while Angie stood guard, and Liam was "fishing" off the back of the boat and talking Matt and Katie's ears off. Magical.

On Friday, the big event was a baseball game in Rivas. Frente Sur Rivas played Caribbean Coast. It's hard to describe this event. It was like watching a major league game in a municipal ballpark, and not a fancy municipal ballpark. More like an all-concrete, abandoned ballpark. But with really excited fans, and many vendors walking the wide rows, selling ceviche (where does that seafood come from?), cashews, mangos, loquats - any of which they will douse with hot sauce or vinegar at your request. You could also buy individual cigarettes, which strangely made me want to smoke, only because they were probably 5 cents a piece. I cannot pass up a bargain, you know? Unfortunately, the kids were cranky and it was hot, and I drank 3 Toñas, so after 5 innings we were ready to roll. Rivas was ahead when we left. Another observation: there's a lot of Yankees and Red Sox gear in that country.

Halfway Through

I don't have much to say about Wednesday in Nicaragua because we spent most of the day swimming, packing up in Granada and driving (being driven) in a van down to San Juan Del Sur, where Angie and Carl were living (they came back to the US today). The only notable part of the drive, other than just the sights and sounds of rural Nica, was when Angie got into a haggle-feud with some ladies selling fake cheezits at a gas station. First of all, the wanted too much for their fake, nasty cheezits - like probably 35 cents or something - and Angie wasn't having it. And then when Angie handed the money out the window, a pan handler grabbed it, and the food seller acted oblivious, like Angie had not, in fact handed the money out the window. This awesomely infuriated Angie, who let loose with a torrent of Spanish and vinegar that I admire, mostly because I wouldn't have the nerve for this tirade against a peddler-panhandler act in English. It was first rate. The cheezits, however, were nasty, and Angie was right to lowball Abbott and Costello. 

The place we stayed in SJ was awesome. We had a two bedroom house with an unbelievable view, and it was part of a very upscale resort, Pelican Eyes (I can't provide a link because my computer says their site has malware on it).  They had good food, three pools, soft towels, etc etc. Here's the view from the lower pool. 

They also, inexplicably, hosted a spay/neuter clinic for two of the days there. But that was for local animals (not guests), and we were unaffected by it other than it made me want to get a cat. 

On Pace to Finish by September

So where was I? Tuesday? 

Tuesday morning found the kids in the pool with Angie. The other grown-ups walked around Granada a bit, checking out churches and the market. Not your serene NoCal farmers' market, that's for sure. You can buy everything, including lingerie and juice in plastic sandwich bags at the open air market. 

We climbed the bell tower of one church along stairs so narrow that the only reason I didn't hyperventilate is because I was concentrating on listening to whether Carl had hyperventilated. This journey was made more harrowing by (1) the copious rat droppings on every step and (2) our discussion of the Honduras and Costa Rica earthquakes of the recent past as we climbed. The view was pretty cool though. 

On Tuesday afternoon, Huascar returned to take us up to Mombacho, a relatively inert volcano outside of town. I say "relatively" because the Nicaraguans call it dormant but it has steaming fumaroles and its neighbors are "active" volcanoes. The trip up the mountain was as close as a truck can get to being vertical as is possible under the laws of physics, even though it had switchbacks. Our dictatorito had a steady hand, though, and we made it safely to the top. 

Most of the top of Mombacho is a tropical forest preserve, with pristine trails and good interpretive signs. And by pristine, I mean, way better than our trails in CA, which are all washed out and rocky. The preserve is a strong stab at attracting eco-tourism, and has several endemic protected animals, as well as sloths, monkeys, puma, etc. None of which we saw, of course. Still even the flora was exciting. The kids made the 1.5 hour trek around the crater of the volcano and we got a great view of Granada and the lake. 

Tuesday night, B and I tried, after several false starts, to go out to dinner. Most restaurants are closed on Tuesday night. We finally settled on a place which got decent reviews in the guide books, Mediterraneo. One book did warn, "Stay away from the paella, it's terrible," but otherwise, it was well-reviewed. We sit, and our waiter Nelson tells us, "The house speciality is paella." Of course. So we had to order it, and while it was not terrible, it also wasn't very good, and I consider paella to be difficult to mess up. The evening was generally lovely, except for an unfortunate incident of advanced bullying we witnessed in the square before dinner. It made me excited to leave Granada on Wednesday.  Which we did!

Here I Am Again

So where was I? Sorry, MIL, I wrote a long post on Tuesday morning and then connectivity problems prevented me from posting it, so then I got briefly dejected, but now I am back in action. I think I left off at Lake Nicaragua.

Our tour guides showed up on Monday morning, during breakfast, just to introduce themselves and agree on a time for the kayaking trip. Although both were impeccable English speakers, we couldn't understand their names. The next day, we ascertained that one was named Huascar, which we learned by making the kids say, "Como se llamo?" like 40 times. At 2:30, our gu

ides arrived in a pick-up truck driven by a man with an impressive mustache and large aviators. Very banana republic and I don't mean that in a Short Hills Mall kind of way. We piled in, the kids using the two functioning seat belts of this vehicle, dad and uncle hanging off the back, and left for the lake. 

The lakefront is a park which appears totally abandoned, except for the dozens of people milling around in a non-recreational manner. At the entrance to the park, I saw a boy my son's age - say, 5 - hacking at a log with a machete. Good idea? I thought, in a Jay Wexler voice in my head. 

At the end of the road in the park was a surprisingly well-appointed bar (it had a dance floor, basketball hoop and chickens), at the far end of which was a stack of kayaks. Initially, the guides wanted to put the kids in a little dinghy which they proposed to pull with their kayak, but we convinced them that the kids would probably spoil the idyllic trip by standing up and then drowning. That meant one kid went to Dad's kayak and the other to Carl's, and we set off. 

We paddled our kayaks amid the little islands of Las Isletas, a chain of 300-400 islands formed by the eruption of Mombacho volcano, near Granada. The islands were thick little jungles, and people live on many of them. Several were clearly owned by regretful Canadians/Americans trying to sell them (from the For Sale/Se Vende signs); others are owned by Nicaragua's elite. We saw herons, egrets, sardines jumping from the water to eat mosquitoes, men fishing, men just randomly shooting their guns from boats into the woods, a pet spider monkey tied to a tree, horses, and electrical wires spread 30 feet over yards and yards of open water. It was both beautiful, easy, peaceful and mildly terrifying. Here's Mombacho, viewed from the Lake.

Just as our arms were beginning to quiver from exhaustion (mine at least), we pulled back into our "boat slip" at the bar, where we were greeted by two boys who had a jelly jar of camerones in muddy water. They were kind enough to let Liam hold one of them. He was thrilled to have it wriggle in his hand, and he wanted to help them catch more. 

Soon, though, we were on our way back into Granada; this time, I got to hang in the bed of the pick-up. Huascar told us that the park hosted very popular motorcross events every Sunday, and that while baseball was the number one sport, "high ball" is the number two sport in Nica, and tossed his hand to his mouth to show he meant drinking. His friend said, "La Cana . . . yes, high ball is the one you play best" and we all laughed. 

So that gets me through the first 24 hours of our visit. Since we stayed there for a full week, its hard to imagine that I can keep going at this level of detail. I will see what I can do but I will need to pick up the pace here or else I will forget everything. 

Oh, and these are the nests of a colony of oropendola, a bird with a tail that is gold (oro) who builds a nest like a pendulum. They were very swooping in and out of the trees. 

This Bird Attacked Mr. Scobie

This bird attacked my husband (who doesn't let me use his name on this blog, for those of you who think its wierd that I refer to him as "my husband") yesterday.

The First of Many Posts, I Hope

We got back from Nica last night, and I will try to capture for myself all that we saw, but I am remembering it through the prism of a night out in Portland, OR (where I am today), Black Star on my ipod, and some wierd Brazilian drink I thought it wise to drink tonight. Before I begin, here's a preview.

First of all, I just need to say that Carl and Angie are the most awesome hosts, and Mr. Scobie is a topnotch travel agent in his own right. In the weeks prior to our departure, he was working his ass off, but in the midst of it, he was secretly making arrangements for a highly entertaining vacation.

We landed last Sunday night in Managua, and were greeted at baggage claim by innumerable Nicaraguans pressing themselves to the glass outside. It was a little unnerving. Fortunately, our driver was one of the people mobbing the door, preventing our exit from the airport. He hustled us to a corner and went for his car. It was hella muggy. I saw an Obama sticker on a car and breathed a sigh of relief. We piled into his van, which mercifully had two seat belts (truly, my kids wore the only 6 seat belts in all of Nicaragua, I think) and a boomin' sound system. The kids' eyes bugged out of their eyes as we drove the 40 minute ride to Granada. It was actually too dark to see much, but the smells were truly something to experience. Wood burning gave way to skunk, gave way to diesel exhaust, to cow manure, to pot, back to wood. In the dark, people just standing at the side of the road. A pack of dogs chasing loose balloons into the road. Broken trucks, horsedrawn carriages, the smell of meat, lovers sauntering, and we were blowing past at 80 kilometers an hour.

We checked into the Hotel Colonial in Granada and headed out for some food. We ended our search at O'Shea's, no joke, a sidewalk cafe that sported a live mushroom in the courtyard. Guess who was psyched? There also seemed to be an actual Irishman on hand. Right off the bat, we had to tackle (hamfistedly) the poverty of Nica. A panhandler smartly chose the almost-six year old to hit up. When I said No to the guy, Li immediately said, "Why can't we give him something?", which made me feel shitty and loquacious all at once, like I'd be able to explain it all right there. Within 24 hours, the kid was like, "No, gracia" to every street vendor in the town.

The next morning, we walked around town, seeing the Cathedral and the Convento de San Francisco. Pictures will follow. We never made it Kathy's Waffle House, sadly. Carl and Angie arrived around lunch time and afterwards, we headed to Lake Nicaragua for a kayak trip. I will get to that tomorrow.

Foodless in Oakland

Doesn't have the same ring to it.

It turns out that the two Indian restaurants in our neighborhood that deliver (1) stop delivery at 9 or (2) require a minimum purchase of $25. BUSH!

I thought I'd weigh in while the Greatest Neighbor on The Planet runs out to pick up my food at restaurant (1). 

Sonia Sotomayor: If you want the best thinking about this, I recommend SCOTUSblog
on this. I agree, it's over. The conservatives were so off-message on day 1, and just had nothing to complain about. And then when Newt Touretted: "She's a Latina racist!", it was like, "Really? That's the best you can do with this?" On the other hand, I am not completely teary about this pick. I agree that its awesome to finally have a Hispanic justice, and another woman on the Court. But the best part of this was how many female and/or minority candidates that Obama could have chosen from. It's like the good guys have such a deep bench now, we could staff the whole place without a pasty white dude from the DC Circuit. (Not to say there aren't some decent white guys out there, but you know....)

Prop 8: Here's another issue where it's all over but the shouting. I subscribe to the view that the Cal Supremes were essentially ruling about how messed up our state constitution is. Putting aside the immediate disappointment of not having gay marriage legalized already, the fact that the Court kept 18,000 marriages intact is just a huge fail for the Right. With marriage legalized in several other states, including two by legislation, the fact that 18,000 gay marriages didn't turn every public school child in California gay is just a huge problem for conservatives. All their arguments have failed. I was emailing with an old college friend, who said that his fraternity brothers are 85/15 in favor of gay marriage. We were marvelling at how much public opinion has changed on this issue just since we were in college, which wasn't really that long ago. 

If gay marriage is almost here, and Sotomayor will be seated by the time the fall session, what else will see in our lifetime? I don't mean stupid shit like time travel, I mean, what historic firsts will be commonplace in 25 years? What's left? Here are a few that I can think of:

1. First woman president: I think this is going to feel anticlimactic when it happens. Hillary shattered the ceiling, acting like a typical candidate in a year that had an atypical, and superior, candidate in the race. She made it look like its been done. I give her credit; I don't think its going to feel the same next time out. Like Sotomayor, we have so many women qualified for this job, it makes it seem unexceptional. I know feminists older than me may despair of my attitude, but it just feels, again, like its already done. 

2. Universal healthcare? After the day I had listening to the problems in healthcare in my region, I have a hard time getting my mind around this.

3. True energy independence and global climate change reversal? This, to me, is the new movement. Its both a social movement and a capital movement. Its gonna happen, or we're gonna die trying. It's also hard to imagine.

What do you think?

Freestylin'

I know that there is at least one person out there who is annoyed/bummed that my blogging has atrophied. I can't promise that I will make it up to you in one measly blog post. But I thought I would try a little stream of consciousness download and see if it appeases the cranky neighbors.

Since I last blogged, Blogger has added a menu option named "Monetize". Isn't that ominous? Doesn't it mean: "Turn into money". Like I am some blogging Rapunzel or the little mean man who spun all the gold for her? I don't like it one bit.

My sister is doing all her blogging by Voice Recognition. She likes it but it also caused her to post her first vaguely negative book review. In the final analysis, I hope she keeps up the negativity, VR or not.

My job is pre-occupying. And since Radio Boy thought it inadvisable to blog about my new job, I am somewhat at a loss. I did overhear someone today on their bluetooth contraption say, "optimize . . . strategy . . . boo-boo." What the what?

Okay, I am out of practice. This is it for me tonight. We are going to Nicaragua on Sunday for a week. I will try to post, but you can check in on gringosenica.com too. Later gators.

Another inspired piece

Liam contemplates the piece designed as an homage to Ernesto Neto.
This kid is a piece of work himself.

New update

I posted some pix of the kiddo driving a jag over at Fungus Everything. Go check it out.

Not Much New

The Cinco de Mayo fiesta being held next door is just getting out and it sounds pretty raucous on Thomas Ave for a Tuesday night. The bambinos are asleep. Did I mention its Tuesday? That raises considerably the chances that I will hear someone say the words, "It's Humpday, dude" tomorrow. Which anticipatorily bums me out, dude.

An actual email exchange btwn me and the hubs yesterday:

Me: "There is a serious lack of candy bars in this office."

Him: "I thought Allison Janney just walked around giving out blueberries over there."

Me: "Mmmmm, blueberries."

Him: "Mmmmm, Allison Janney's voice."

I understand that this exchange is only humorous if you are familiar with the KP Thrive ad campaign. Sorry.

I spent my lunch time outside the Paramount Theater today, registering new citizens to vote. There's a new citizen swearing-in ceremony every Tuesday over there. I was surprised how choked up I got watching people spill out of the theater when it was over. Lots of people dressed like it was Easter, blinking to adjust to the outside light, clutching their "papers." Several people asked about how to get a passport; I took several family photos. Kids dressed in red, white and blue. It was nice. I registered a young woman to vote who was wearing a burka, while her parents flitted around her pointing to the parts of the application she hadn't completed yet. I liked their enthusiasm. Before everyone came out, vendors set up to sell covers for the certificates new citizens receive, and Obama T-shirts. 

Speaking of kids dressed for Easter, there are mine, on Easter, outside the Cathedral of Christ the Light. Aren't they cute?

Spot the Problems

For all I know, this story is true, but if it is, this woman went about spilling the beans in the worst possible way. More intriguing than her claim that her father is the Zodiac killer is the fact that there are dozens of people who claim to know his identity, and even that they are related to him. Unless they are an unusually forgetful or dimwitted crew (who don't realize or remember their connections to one another), they can't ALL be the Number One Witness for the Prosecution. So what drives people to claim "knowledge" about the Zodiac killer with a certainty that warrants trying to shout down another crazy person during her press conference? Words escape me. 

My Second Run at a Holy Hullabaloos Review

The book Holy Hullabaloos hasn't even been released yet (and my pre-ordered copy certainly hasn't shipped yet), but there's no reason I can't review the book sight unseen. Anyone who knows me knows that I don't wait to read a book, or see a movie, to have an opinion about it. 

But I will be upfront here about what I'm basing this review on. I will be relying on (1) the author's blog and the outtakes from the book reported thereon; (2) "Customers Who Bought Related Items Also Bought" list from Amazon; (3) the cover illustration of the book and (4) tales my husband has told me about the author over the past 17 years. I will not reference or rely on (a) the book itself or (b) my personal interactions with the author.

Holy Hullabaloos is a chuckle-a-chapter examination of the intersection of religious conviction and spiritual ambivalence that is articulated throughout American culture and federal law. Prof. Wexler does double-duty as a humorist and law-professor-to-the-masses without wading into this emotional topic over his head. Anyone who gives passing notice to John Fante* will be richly rewarded by Wexler's forays throughout the American religious geography. Followers of Wexler's creative career will be disheartened that he didn't paint the cover himself; a regular reader of his blog will likely know to fault his editors for this artistic oversight. Regardless of your religious beliefs, there's no doubt that you will enjoy this stimulating summer read more than the Broadway musical Cats.

(Actual review to follow)

* I have no idea what this means.

My First Run at a Holy Hullabaloos Review.

I laughed, I cried, it was better than Cats.

My Life Is Now Perfect

I got all the forms to join my union yesterday, and after sending them off today, confirmed on the internets that I am a member of David Simon's old local, Washington Baltimore Newpaper Guild, CWA Local 32035. My life is now complete.

Completely Torn

Liam learned how to ride without training wheels about 2 weeks ago, and he is already bat-shit fast and agile on his bike. No fear. SOOO, can I show him this, or is that just bad parenting?

h/t Eric.

Loan Repayment Underway

Remember how I was boosting Kiva a few months ago? Through Kiva, I made a $25 loan to a woman in Nigeria who has a food stall and needed $550 to increase her inventory. Her first payment of $51 was due May 15 but she made her payment early and I got $3.12, which I can either cash out or re-lend. Pretty awesome, eh? Please visit Kiva to learn more about microlending, and maybe find someone you'd like to lend $25 to. Thanks.

Nicest Thing I've Read In A Long Time

From the NYT Magazine:

Deborah Solomon: I hear you just became engaged. True?

Joyce Carol Oates: To say how I feel about my engagement to Charles Gross, who is in the psychology department and the Neuroscience Institute at Princeton, is not really possible in such a small space.

A Little Background on the Sculpture

I've gotten a couple of emails about the anatomical correctness of "How Humans Live" and I wanted to give y'all a little context for the work. L noticed this sculpture at the SFMOMA a few weeks ago and he and his dad went back to check it out this weekend. After seeing it a second time, he wanted to make it himself. Thus, our sculpture. It was up on the kids' bedroom wall, but not surprisingly, little brother declared it to be a "scary ghost" and I had to take it down. L wants to send it to the art museum, but (a) the penis won't stay one and (b) I don't know who to direct it to at the Museum. 

Liam's sculpture

I helped Liam make this today. Its called "how humans live".

Easter Egg Mystery

I just fired up the boiling water for the eggs when I noticed that the standard Paas egg dye colors are Yellow, Orange, Red, Teal and Denim. That's right, DENIM. Unacceptable. I mean, I can barely stomach teal, but denim crosses a line. Is blue trademarked by Cadbury, or by the Easter Bunny himself, or by the International Federation of Turdi Migratorii (that's the plural latin for American Robin, be-yatches)?

Whatever the answer, I will now imagine that 20% of our eggs are in little tiny jean suits. Isn't that sad?

Red Sox Mania

Here's how bad it is.* I am sufficiently en-fanned to have (a) gotten B the MLB Extra Innings package on cable and didn't even link it to any sort of gift-giving event** and (b) I understand 89% of the jokes in this video.  

* Or good it is, for my husband. 

** It might get the retro-active birthday treatment if I don't think of anything else to get him. 

Helpful Movie Review

In case you are wondering whether Monty Python and the Search for the Holy Grail is still funny (as I recently wondered), let me help you out here. After the first half hour, its really not. Except for the French John Cleese ("I fart in your general direction."), it all sort of peters out after the first 35 minutes. At minute 57, you will turn off the movie, and then start wondering how something that's only 1.5 hours long, can seem so, well, LONG.

This suggests that other things I did when I was 14 may also no longer be enjoyable. But rather than test that question, I am going to avoid Tetris, making out at U2's Rattle and Hum and getting endless soda refills at Pizza Hut in Morristown, NJ, until they close.

Some More Things I Don't Like About My New Job

Just to be clear, I actually really really like my new job. It's the jargon that is driving me crazy. For example, today I got this in an email: "Seems like a great opportunity for onboarding." Is that a word? It's not defined at dictionary.com. Oh wait, here it is.

This need to create new words to replace other, equally efficient, words is super-irritating. And just how pervasive is it? Well, today an Efficiency Contest was announced in the office where I work. the purpose of this contest? "The (blank) committee wants to develop a word or short phrase that we can use within our department that indicates something may be inefficient. This is something that we would be all comfortable saying to one another and would indicate, we may need to stop and rethink something." Some proposed examples are, "Time Out, E-9, Pause, Pause Check, E-check," et al.

So basically this is a contest to find a safe word to stop inefficiencies which is itelf totally inefficient since the obvious answer is that we all just agree to say, "This seems inefficient?" or "Is this the most efficient way to do this?"

At some point, I assume I will just get a little callous on my forehead and then it won't bleed anymore when I bang it on my desk, right?

Just to Be Clear

I in no way shape or form endorse anything Grover Norquist says or does, even stopping at red lights. I feel so yucky now.

A Proud Parent

My five year-old, who wants to learn to read and write, wrote, "POOP PEE FArT" last night. We are SO proud of him.

Last night I was behind a car which had been purchased at Karl Malone Toyota Subaru. I recall that Scotty Pippen had a few car dealerships as well. Why do basketball players have car dealerships? Or is it athletes generally? And how are they weathering the economic downturn relative to other dealerships, many of which seem to be folding right now? These are the things I worry about in these difficult times.

I like this Scientology PAC idea, as it makes Grover Norquist seem almost reasonable. Okay, not really. Geez, saying anything vaguely positive about Norquist definitely just put my enneagrams in a state of flux.

O.P.P.

MIL: Here's a link, but the highlights:

O is for Other, P is for People scratchin' temple
The last P...well...that's not that simple
It's sorta like another way to call a cat a kitten 

As for the ladies, OPP means something gifted 

The first two letters are the same the last is something different 

Its the longest, loveliest, lean -- I call it the leanest 

It's another five letter word rhymin' with cleanest and meanest

My Guys

Here's a picture I took of my world class mushroom hunters on our hike today. You can read about the hike at Fungus Everything.

Another Not So Good Thing About My Job

Someone used the word "impactful" twice in a conversation with me. I may have visibly flinched the first time.

UPDATED: People use the word "prework" a lot. It means, I think, reading in preparation for a meeting. It's irritating.

Sad

I actually put on a To Do list today: "Integrate To Do lists".

A Not So Great Thing About the Job

The insane proliferation of acronyms.

One department actually proposed changing the name of something so that its acronym would be OPP. I literally burst out laughing. I had to explain the other group participants that that acronym was NOT okay unless you wanted everyone between the ages of 29 and 40 to fall off their chairs giggling every time the program was mentioneed.

Another Great Thing About This Job

The bus ride from L's preschool to work this morning took 11 minutes. Yes, ELEVEN.

Best Things About My New Job, So Far

I started my new job today, and since I don't have any actual work yet, I thought I would let you know about some of the awesome features that I have discovered here at HQ. Most of them are facets of the building itself, which was built in the 196os for Blue Cross.

First of all, the mailroom and kitchen are together in one room. The "mailroom" is actually a vertical conveyer. You put your mail in a basket and put it on a tray in the wall, push a button and it is gently guided onto the conveyer. The default is for all mail to travel down to the basement but you can select other floors. When mail comes to our floor, it appears in a separate window, having been lifted from the conveyer by an invisible arm, and then is given a gentle shove so that it slides down an inclined metal table. Beautiful. I can't wait to use it. Because the building has only ever been used by sole tenants/occupants, they've kept this system operational. As close to a pneumatic tube system I suspect I will ever see.

Next: the stalls in the women's bathroom are a beautifully bright shade of orange. Just a really drenched color. And the bathroom is literally just around the corner from my office, so its nothing to just pop in there whenever I went. But since its around a corner, I don't have to see other people coming and going.

Next: there's a white porcelain water fountain (or "bubbler") about 20 steps from my office. It works. I doubt anyone uses it though because its down a hallway where no one seems to walk (IT is bend the wall across from it, so its all closed up). I can use that hallway to go to the elevators without anyone seeing me.

Finally, the cafeteria here is insanely cheap. Hamburger and fries: $2.95. Executive's Brunch (2 eggs, bacon or sausage, home fries, fruit, coffee): $3.75. One egg, cooked: 80 cents. Come over any time and I will take you to lunch.

And it's only 1:35!

Only In the East Bay, Part 2

I don't know how I neglected to post THIS one, too. That's right, Shuuuuuuunnnnn The Nonbeliever!!

St. Scobie

Here's the link to my original explanation of the title of the blog. Joshua Scobie also had a prosthetic nose. Scobie was also the name of our cat for a very long time. Hope that helps, Allison.

Only In the East Bay, Baby

Happy Day, Ladies and the men who love us.

Just because

I haven't mentioned lately how much I love Michelle Obama. That dress is so awesome. 

St. Scobie's Mock Brackets III (or is it IV?)

The NCAA College Basketball Championship is rearing its ugly, exploitative head again. That means its time to derive some meaningless entertainment from faux gambling on the athletic exploits of young men we don't know. That's right, St. Scobie's Mock Brackets is back for the third, or possibly fourth, time. I can't remember which. Prior year's contestants have already gotten your invitations; if you want in, shoot me an email or leave me a comment. Picks don't start until March 15. I will remind you before then, but I will be out of town next weekend, so now's the time to get started.

And because I am too lazy to start a new post about this: My job. You have ten seconds to follow these directions and then this computer will self-destruct. Sadly, not that exciting. I got a job as the Northern California coordinator for a national coalition of unions who represent workers at Kaiser Permanente. A little too complicated to explain, without being interesting enough to stick with me for the explanation. I am excited about it, though. 

Okay, let's play ball!

And In Other News

I got a job. It's hard to tell at this point whether this means I will blog more or less frequently. I am super happy and relieved to have a job, both for economic reasons and for staying-home-is-boring reasons. And I think my job will be interesting and challenging without being insanely difficult or out of my league or anything. 

I updated Fungus Everything. Carl has a recipe for Tortilla Dulce at gringosenica. I am going to try to make it in the next day or two. I will let you know how it goes.

Anyway, just updating you then. Carry on.

Let It Snow

We headed up to Tahoe this weekend with friends of ours. There was snow. This is of little consequence to me because I don't ski but the rest of the family was very happy about it. Q and I made a snowman and a snowbaby. I show them here with Q and our friend's son for perspective.

Incredibly Reassuring

Top 25 Most Influential Bands

I tried to make a list of the most influential albums in my life, but I'm too busy today to research the specific albums. And some of these bands didn't have albums, so here you go, in chronological order:

1. The Band

2. Earth, Wind & Fire

3. Bruce Springsteen: Born in the USA 

4. Soul II Soul

5. Living Colour

6. Sade

7. Huey Lewis & the News 

8. INXS

9. REM

10. De La Soul: 3 Feet High and Rising

11. Colors Soundtrack

12. U2

13. Dag Nasty: Wig Out At Denko's

14. Fugazi

15. Tribe Called Quest

16. Native Nod

17. Choke

18. Tsunami

19. Shudder to Think

20. Ting

21. Team Dresch: Personal Best

22. Missy Elliott

23. Sleater-Kinney

24.  Black Star/Mos Def

25. Outkast

This hardly seems to cover it, now that I've made the list. Where's Nation of Ulysses, Slint, Codeine? Everything Calvin Johnson has ever done? The Shams, Dave Clark 5, The Monkees!? Lois/Courtney Love (the band), Mary Lou Lords, Heavenly/Marine Research? Jane's Addiction, The Smiths. ALLEN CLAPP! Simon and Garfunkel, definitely huge, especially Simon. Dog-Faced Hermans, Sufjan Stevens. The Minutemen, Sebadoh, Sonic Youth. Flaming Lips, Bikini Kill. Toulouse. Auto-Voles. 

Okay, I am going to revisit this, and re-organize it by stages of my life. 

Totally Inexplicable

Can someone please tell me what this blog post says? I don't have time this minute to re-post the photo, so you just need to go see it and then someone come back here and explain what is going on. Thanks.

Crimefighter Update 1

Every house on the street, plus all the houses on the street perpendicular to ours, have received my wack little flyer, both under their doormat and via email, if they are on our street listserv. Here's the tally of reactions:

Number of flyers posted in cars, including mine: 2

Number of calls from neighbors with questions, including the guy who was angry that the can men steal his recycling and that another neighbor called the police because his van was perpetually full of hoarded recycling: 1

Number of run-ins with bemused neighbors who are quasi-thankful for my efforts: 5

More updates as events warrant.

Taking A Bite Out of Crime

For almost as long as I have lived on this street, there has been a wierd phenomenon where cars that were left unlocked were rifled through. Money was taken, and sometimes stuff. I always figured that for a savvy homeless person or something. I figured that if you didn't lock your doors, you expected this to happen, and it did. On other occasions, crap has gone missing from front yards on our street, but the stuff that gets taken strongly suggests art students doing a crap harvest for some final project. 

Lately however, better stuff is getting taken, and its also being taken via smashed car window. Also, a neighbor's car was stolen. This is making a lot of people on my street very angry/annoyed, and has resulted in many email exchanges, although none, as far as I know, with the thieves. What to do about all this? has been answered many times, occasionally, but not often enough, in jest. One guy helpfully installed a video camera focussed on his driveway, and caught footage of a man looking in car windows with a flashlight while a Mercedes slowly traveled along. This was also witnessed by a guy who must be something of a night owl, because both times, it was 3:30 a.m. 

Other folks have expressed interest in a night watch, but not enough people have expressed interest to staff more than one night's shifts. Several people have done extensive research into the costs associated with hiring a private security company to patrol our street. IN ROCKRIDGE. $5000 a month is a number that has been bandied about. I know the value of my neighbor's Honda Civic was less than that. 

My response was classic Dre. I made a flyer, and passed it out to all the neighbors to put inside their car windows. It says:

WE ARE WATCHING. We have video recording you and your car, and have established a neighborhood watch to monitor your actions on this street. The police have been notified, and are working with us to stop further thefts. You are being watched and videotaped, and we will assist in the prosecution of any crimes committed in our neighborhood.

ESTAMOS MIRANDO. Tenemos grabación y video de usted y su coche, y hemos establecido un reloj de vecindad para supervisar sus acciones en esta calle. La policía ha sido notificada, y están trabajando con nosotros para poner fin a más robos. Se le ha visto y grabado en vídeo, y vamos a ayudar en el enjuiciamiento de todos los crímenes cometidos en nuestro vecindario.

I have handed out about 80 flyers and sent it to every neighbor on our listserv. Another 40 drop tomorrow. I will let you know how it goes. And don't worry, old friends, I will continue to remain vigilant against the Alpha Delt fraternity, lest they dare hold a party in this neighborhood. . .

I Am Very Busy Being Unemployed, Thanks

My absence from this page is due not to any actual busy-ness on my part. However, my mom visited last week, and my computer is in the room where she stayed, and the kids are drawn to her like little fireflies at all times, so I couldn't really sit down and think much. It was great to have her, especially to celebrate my 35th birthday, which was largely uneventful. 

I did make the mistake of looking at this book, The Book of Ages, in a bookstore. This book has a list of all the important things that have happened when various famous people were a certain age. By age 35, many famous people had done many important things, and some of them were listed at "35" only because they had died at that age. Merriwether Clark committed suicide at age 35, for example. Van Gogh cut his ear off. These are things for which people are remembered, and so of course I had an existential mini-crisis about how I haven't done anything for which I can be remembered, and don't even seem on track to do, unless one of my kids turns out horribly terribly wrong and I have to sit behind him for a 6-month televised trial. 

Can't dwell on it though.

Other stuff: I have interviewed for one job FIVE times, with 10 different people. Hopefully I will hear about that this week, in which case I will be able to step up my car purchasing. That is to say, if I get the job offer, I will accept it, and then we will need a reliable car for my job-related use, and our family's comfort. Currently, we all wedge ourselves into a two-door 1997 Honda Civic that has no radio and no leg room. Its awful. So what car to get preoccupies me. As I have said before, I want the VW Jetta Sportwagon TDI (it's a clean diesel engine). Mr. Scobie alternately prefers a Prius (for the internal space) or something with 4 Wheel Drive and a third row, because of all of the trips to Tahoe we will no doubt soon be taking with all of our kids' friends piled in the back.  A friend has suggested the Honda Civic GX, which would require installing a Natural Gas pump in our garage. Since I have this kind of time on my hands, I have not only considered it, but I have read up on starting a Natural Gas filling station franchise.  JOB NEEDED.

Because its unlikely I will write another post immediately after this one, I will go on. The other new thing I am into is Kiva, which is an on-line community/non-profit organization that does micro-lending. I had heard about it awhile ago, and then read an endorsement from that incredibly hot African economist who Deborah Solomon interviewed in the NYT Mag yesterday. Wow, is she awesome or what? Probably not even 35.  Anyhoo, so then I went and checked out Kiva, and made one $25 loan. Loans go fast; apparently its competitive to make a loan because so many more people are interested in lending than groups can get loan recipients connected. Anyway it seems cool. Check it out. 

Finally, did anyone else read this "cautionary tale" in the NYT yesterday about how Japanese frugalness during their recession contributed to the economic malaise they suffered in the 1990s and still depresses growth? (or something. I am not totally comfortable with all these terms myself). What struck me was how all the of the things which are "bad habits" of the depression are actually sound environmental measures. Using gray water, driving less, drinking less, eating all the available food rather than throwing it out? Let me just say that is fucked up that those things would be discouraged in order for there to be an economic recovery.  Our reckless and wasteful lifestyle may be an "economic engine" but it surely means that we can only get through another couple of economic cycles before we are at a environmental end-times scenario. It seems like these things should not be irreconcilable. There must be ways to make money from re-couping gray water, for example. 

That's what's going on with me these days? How are you? Oh, and check out my cousin Zoe and the review of her dance company in the Boston Globe.

My Rare Attempt at Fashion Criticism

For two long weeks during my childhood, I wanted to be a fashion designer. Anyone who knows how I dress knows that I got that out of my system pretty completely. But I was so inspired by the TV show Rags to Riches, where a millionaire adopts five wacky girls, that I actually busted out my colored pencils for the first and last time in my life. It seems like they were always making their own clothes. One of the girls on the show wore clothes of her own design, and a very tight blonde ponytail. Another wore a terrible side ponytail. All of their, and my, designs involved bandeaus, and poodle skirts with peddle pushers underneath. But they, and I, may have also designed the dress Angelina Jolie wore to the BAFTA awards. If we didn't, then whoever did is seriously channeling Rags to Riches.

Meredith, help me out here. Am I wrong about this?

Overheard

Overheard one woman saying to another in the locker room at the gym: 

"They need to vote on this stimulus bill! Don't they know the polar ice caps is melting!?"

Wrong Answer

A sub-plot of the whole stimulus debate today concerns a staffer for Eric Cantor circulating a video that satirizes AFSCME, a labor union that has worked hard to push for the stimulus package. He did this, I guess, to undermine AFSCME. I put the video on this blog a while ago. I fail to see how a comic video accomplishes this goal, but whatever. (Here's a NYT piece about this drama).

This is about AFSCME President Gerald McEntee's response. Specifically he said, "Eric Cantor may think the greatest economic crisis in seventy years is a joke, but we don't. He should talk to the people in Virginia who are losing their jobs, health care and homes."

Now, that's a legitimate response, and true. But McEntee would have been better just going to the video. He should have said, "Hey, Cantor, we do take out the fucking garbage. We clean the streets, coach little league, file library books, give vaccinations, give driving tests, issue death certificates and put out your fucking fires. And unless you want those basic services to stop, you should support this fucking bill, asshole. Otherwise, local governments will just fold up shop, and your constituents will start asking you why the trash hasn't been removed." 

Just once I wish someone would just call the bluff of these Republicans and say, "Yes, we do all the work. No, a twenty-three year old banker should not make more than the President of the United States." It's really time for some good old-fashioned populism. McEntee's a brawler, he should act like one.

Allison

Most of my readers are friends and family who know one another, so a couple of people have asked about the new commenter Allison. By way of introduction, Allison and I went to high school together, at which time she went by Claire. I don't know why, other than there were literally 5 Allisons in our class of just 55 girls. There were also 3 Karas. I think Allison would agree with me when I say I have almost no memory of having any class with Allison/Claire or engaging in any social activity with Allison/Claire.  I should say, Allison/Claire has no knowledge of my memory; she probably would attest to the underlying truth of that statement. So yeah, its a little wierd that Allison's a regular commenter on my blog. Also, we diverge on certain topics which are dear to me, so that makes her an even less likely regular. That said, I really appreciate that Allison comments on my blog at all, along with Anonymous the Neighbor, Anonymous the Cousin, my sister, and my mother in law.  Bloggers LOVE comments. It fuels the enterprise (at least, on blogs that don't take advertising). So if you have even the slightest reaction to something I write, please share it. And then jump over to gringosenica so that Carl and Angie know that the gringos en America are following along with their adventures. Thanks!

Annoying

According to a reliable source (my husband), these little jammies have been recalled. We've had at least a half dozen of these little fish since our first son was born, and I just tossed out two of them that were in the tub. 

Normally, I just live with, as Peggy Orenstein calls it, "the toxic paradox." I don't think I would sleep at night worrying about all the stuff that could be poisoning us. But then, every time you turn around, a new little piece of junk has been recalled. It's all stuff you were looking for a reason to throw away, so its galling to be told that the crap was causing you harm the whole time it was lingering in your atmosphere anyway.

What's Up With Me

If you wander over to Fungus Everything, you can find out more about how we spent our weekend. This is the best picture I got of my homies. Our camera sucks. Add to that, every time I pull the camera out, my kids bum-rush me to look at the pictures I haven't taken yet. 

Oakland Grody

For some reason, I decided to trek* around Lake Merritt today. Lake Merritt is a natural estuary that works like a bladder for the San Francisco Bay, meaning that its job is to clean the gross stuff out of the bay and send the water back out into the world cleaner than it entered. No matter how hard Oakland boosters try to defend this "lake", the fact remains that it is gross, a little smelly, and the surrounding area is covered in goose poop and meandering homeless/junkie-type people (not inherently the lake's fault). The grodiness of it today was heightened by the guy who was jogging with a quart of Half and Half in one hand. So, not going back to trek around Lake Merritt again any time soon.

* I use "trek" here to mean "try running, but ultimately just walking fast"

Bay Area BS

It's been awhile since I ragged on my region, but the bad weather in the rest of country made me feel like I should remind my friends why they don't live here. People are crazy, is why. The balmy weather makes these people barely tolerable. Four examples:

1. I was at Target today, which has mechanism that runs between the escalators to bring your shopping cart to the second floor. Handy. Two GENIUSES had put their carts on the cart-scalator with their babies still in the child seat. And I mean babies. Like twin eight-month olds. The store staff were yelling at these two women, and another woman and I were so surprised, we were literally standing there with our mouths open. The signage is clear, in English, Spanish and illiterate (a picture of someone doing this with a red circle and bar across it). 

I realize that this is just universal stupid, not Bay Area-special brand of dumb.

2. My next example will be in the form of a short poem:

If its yellow

let it mellow

doesn't apply

at the Y

3. My sister reports seeing, during a recent trip to SF, graffiti from the window of the train that read, "Ira Glass." Now either Ira has a really ill-conceived viral marketing plan or liberals now tag West Oakland. I can't say. Neither is a good idea.

4. People in Berkeley have a tendency to turn everything into a Free Speech zone. Or rather, the whole town is a Free Speech zone and you have no right to be free from other people's speech, even where it might endanger your life. For example, there is a particular overpass on Highway 80 in Berkeley which is particularly attractive to people with "something to say". Here's a picture of it. It's dangerous to protest or whatever up there, because drivers slow or stop and look up to read your dumb-ass sign, rather than minding their business on the road. If you scroll down on that page I linked to, you will see a hideous statue which was recently added at one end of the overpass. It's huge, and, let me say again, hideous. And very distracting even when there aren't people with Free Mumia signs up there. But what's interesting to me is that the figures in the statue are holding empty signs that are not just blank, they're empty. EXACTLY.

So, snowed-in Midwesterners, freezing New Yorkers and DCites-who-are annoyed-to-be-called out-by-Obama-for-a-snow-day-when-he-has-the-Oval-Office-temp-at-like-72, revel in the common sense of your neighbors, and enjoy the seasons while you still have them.

Some Good Finds For You

I came across a few things I thought might interest you. First, John Legend caught Barack Obama admitting to Beyonce that he knows a little bit of the "Single Ladies" dance, although, he says, "I didn't do like Justin and put the whole outfit on." Compare this to Bush (42) not knowing what a grocery scanner was . . .

Second, Mos Def has a new single for free download, ahead of new album in February.  I can't say I'm enamored of it but I will give it a few more listens because its Mos Def.

Finally, some news you can use. There are 153 calories in a bottle or can of regular beer. There are 25 calories in an ounce of red wine. Granted, no one drinks one ounce of red wine. It's not possible. But a regular glass is about 3 ounces. So I am adding a late New Years' resolution: less beer, more red wine. 

Pope Benedict Is Spoiling for A Fight

In a rare turn, Pope Benedict makes news twice this week with belligerent words and deeds that seem intended to start a fight with somebody. Who that is, isn't clear, though. First of all, the Holy See is p.o.'ed at Obama for repealing the ban on funding family planning. Time Magazine reports: Vatican Slams Obama Over Abortion. I just cannot imagine that Obama gives a rat's ass. (sorry for the language, mother in law). I can sort of imagine Obama thinking, "Oh, you're mad at me? Well, let me tell you Father, I won."

And in other, more schismatic news, Il papa reinstated four excommunicated priests, all of them very very conservative, and at least one is a Holocaust denier. While this may be intended to infuriate liberal Catholics, I think it will actually land with a resound thud. Most of us liberal Catholics think the Church is so batshit crazy that we've stopped noticing the Church's efforts to roll back modernity. You want Latin mass? Go for it, I won't be at church this Sunday anyway.

WTF: Children's Apparel Edition

Li is having a major growth spurt. This is less of a problem in the daywear component of his wardrobe, as we've managed to keep only slightly behind his size as he's stretched out. But for some reason, he's wearing a size 4 pajamas when he should be in a size 6. So while I was already on Amazon looking at mushroom books, I thought I would check out what they have for boys' PJs. Strangely, a majority of the items available in Boys Sleepwear are ROBES. Whu? How many little boys out there are cinching up a robe each morning before they saunter out of their beds for a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios? I can think of almost nothing less plausible than a five year old in a bathrobe.

Still Got (Almost) Nothing

This weekend was a blur of parenting because Mr. Scobie has a trial coming up. These days, though, the kids are easily placated by treks through mud in search of fungus. As you may know from the Fungus Everything post yesterday, we did an organized hike with a mycologist on Saturday. Yesterday, we hiked through Redwood, and saw not only many awesome new fungi, but also literally hundreds of thousands of ladybugs that "overwinter" in the Park. Here are some photos: 

It would be creepy, except they are all ladybugs, and they don't fly very fast or care very much about the people watching them. Very cool. If you want to see them, let me know and I will hike down there with you some day this week.

I Don't Have Much

I posted over at Fungus Everything today, but can't really think of much to say here. Enjoy.

The Right Job for Me

Deciding to leave my law firm was a big decision, because it was more a career choice than a job choice. The place I worked was great: interesting clients and co-workers, feel-good area of law, flexible, family-friendly, all that. I just didn't want to be a labor lawyer anymore. And I left the firm before knowing what it is I want to do because I felt like working there didn't give me the "space" to figure out the answer to that question. Well, now I've got nothing but "space". Here are some career choices I am mulling, and a few I am not:

Not Mulling:

1. Mom, Stay-at-Home: This is among the most boring/hard jobs out there. Children are extremely hard to rear, as some of you can attest. And like a "real" job, it leaves you no time to do anything but raise children. At least at an office job, you can shower in preparation therefor. You can take a walk around the office, get a Snickers bar, stop at the mailroom to check your box, and also surf the internet unlimitedly (if you have that kind of job). When you are home with kids, there are no showers, no Snickers bars, no mail, no internet. Blech. Not for me.

2. Blogger, Full-time: As I said the other day, when you don't have to sit at a computer all day, there's nothing that makes you want to sit at a computer all day. 

3. Lawyer: Blogger, Full-time. 

4. Truck Driver, Long Haul: Similar to 1, except you have to be away from your kids ALL the time. 

Mulling: 

1. Bounty Hunter: Classes are forming now. I think I would be a pretty good bounty hunter. Only unlike men named The Dawg, I would talk people into turning themselves in. As long as they will stay on the phone with me.

2. Consultant: I am researching what this actually is. But I think it would be perfect for me. 

So far, that's all. I am open to further suggestions. Any ideas?

Happy Inauguration Day!

When you say that to someone, they look confused, and then happy. It's funny. And what a great one it's been so far. Except for Kennedy's seizure, of course. And the global warming induced temperature here in Oakland (perfect 72 degrees, as opposed to the sub-perfect 52 degrees it should be). I would have liked to have live-blogged the inauguration but there were too many little people climbing me. But, my thoughts:

1. Flubbing the inaugural oath was good and bad. Good because I think I flubbed my wedding vows, and things have worked out so far. He was nervous, which few of us have ever seen before. It turns out that it was Justice Roberts' fault, but Obama smiled through it. The man screams aplomb, if aplomb can be screamed. It's bad because right-wing nuts will claim that he didn't actually take the oath and therefore isn't president or isn't bound to uphold the Constitution. Etc etc. Well, they can waste their energy on that, since it prevents them participating in a meaningful way in the public discourse.

2. I really like Elizabeth Alexander's inaugural poem. I took a class from her in college, liked her a lot personally and thought that was one of her better works. I mean, I like her other stuff too, but this one was really moving.

3. And the inaugural speech, like so many of Obama's speech, is even better read. I think it will stand the test of time, and we will look back on it and say, Yes, that's what we were going to do, and we did it (I hope). High school civics classes (do they still have those?) will be teaching this for a long time.

The above-picture was taken at the corners of Bush and Kearney Street in San Francisco this morning. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.

Weekend in Tahoe

My spies tell me that some among you do not consider a vacation to
include a break from blogging. Fair enough. Unfortunately there's
nothing to report but global warming. Its warm (40-50) and dry dry
dry. In 2006, we were rained into our hotel. Weather has definitely
gotten weird here. And with no rain in 3 weeks, we are looking at
another drought year. Hope you can see the picture I am posting; it is
the best part of the trip.

A Great Gift for the Kids

I highly recommend reading the reviews of the Playmobil Security Check Point over at Amazon.

The Family That Blogs Together. . .

Writing a book review, such as it is, reminded me that I have failed to introduce my readership to my sister's blog, Arch Thinking. It's primarily a book blog, with some architecture thrown in. A new addition to the world wide internets is my brother-in-law's and his girlfriend's blog, Gringosenica. They are dispatching from Nicaragua, where they moved Monday. You can tell which ones are Carl's posts. They end with a comma. Just bustin', brother!

Enjoy.

Some Thoughts on DFW

Last month, Jay Wex asked whether he should re-read Infinite Jest.* After I read that post, I thought about re-reading Infinite Jest too, but then remembered that I no longer have the attention span to finish The Cat in The Hat, much less IJ. 

Instead, I decided to re-read the essay A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again, about David Foster Wallace's trip aboard a luxury cruise ship. First off, its a hilarious essay. But it's impossible to read without the gloss of DFW's suicide. The essay opens recounting a suicide that had recently occurred on another ship. A young man throws himself overboard. These cruise ships are as tall as skyscrapers, and the young man is killed. DFW talks a lot about mortality and infantilization in this essay. He thinks people go on these cruises to be completely pampered - babied - because they feel "death-creep". In order to fight death, they seek retreat to an infant state. DFW is clearly freaked out by it. It's as though he understands the only way to fight this death creep is to surrender to it; throwing oneself overboard is a perfectly natural reaction in his mind to the hyper-present mortality being frantically kept at bay on the cruise.  

The story it most reminded me of is A Perfect Day for Bananafish, the Salinger story where Seymour Glass kills himself. DFW is so much like Glass. In A Supposedly Fun Thing, he describes the same sort of reverse paranoia that Glass describes: he suspects people are conspiring to make him happy.  This is exactly what the cruise personnel are charged with doing, anticipating his every need, catering to it before he knows he has it. For Wallace, as for Glass, the only way to get away from this maniacal world in which everyone conspires to make you happy is to throw yourself overboard or walk into the ocean.

Its obviously very easy to diagnose that suicide was the likely path for DFW after he's already killed himself. What is so striking about this essay is how pre-occupied he was with it, and how closely it does mirror JD Salinger's character. Maybe I will build up to reading Infinite Jest by re-reading some Salinger first.

* An aside about Jay Wexler: I am extremely jealous of his excellent blog. He write funny stuff every day and lots of very smart people read it. People who read my blog are also very smart (I can vouch for them, you, personally) but there aren't very many of them. I think he has more readers because he's "famous", and also writes every day, and he guest-blogs, whatever that is. He can do this because he's a law professor. I thought that being unemployed would be like being like a law professor, and that I would write more. But not having a job means I don't have to sit at a computer all day, so now when I have random thoughts, I just think them, and don't type them anywhere. 

Drea's Stimulus Package

In today's column, Paul Krugman notes that Obama is calling for ideas on how to stimulate the economy. Krugman has his advice; I have mine. I thought of this when I became a "fan" of The Young Ones on Facebook today. You see, I am the proud by impotent owner of the full Young Ones VHS set. Impotent because, like many other Americans, I know longer have a working VCR. 

What I need is The Young Ones on DVD, and also on digital download, and also whatever the next "platform" or "medium" is for delivering awesome British comedy. I also need the Decalogue.  Until I receive my share of the Cultural Recovery Funds,  I can only wonder about which of the Ten Commandments is best illustrated in this Polish mini-series by Krzysztof Kieslowski.

In other words, my stimulus proposal is to have the government buy our favorite movies and music in its most current format. This will be targeted towards the individual consumer as well as the music and entertainment industries. The former, in particular, has been in perilous freefall because people no longer buy LPs, cassettes or even CDs.  Some might argue that giving taxpayer dollars to Vyvyan Bastard or a dead Polish director may not be well-spent. But this rescue plan will both reflect the global nature of this economic crisis as well as the need to become more international in our cultural tastes. Plus, I also need Personal Best by Team Dresch (currently have on vinyl) and Super Fly by Missy Elliott (on cassette tape), which spreads the wealth to indie rockers in Portland and hip hop stars in Virginia. 

That's all I ask. It should cost about $142 if purchased on Amazon. Multiply that by the number of adults in the US (223 million, I estimate) and it will only cost $31 billion to implement my idea. This is small potatoes when you consider the kind of cash being thrown at BANKS, who already have money. Anyway, how do you want your Cultural Recovery Funds spent?

Back to Politics: IL-5

(updated at 12:25pm) I heard last week that Tom Geoghegan was considering a run for Rahm Emanuel's seat and chuckled a bit at it. Tom is the author of Which Side Are You On?, which inspired me to become a labor lawyer. I also worked for Tom during law school as a fact checker on his book The Secret Lives of Citizens, which he wrote while practicing law and staging his play Aurora. Aurora is about a labor lawyer torn between love and the movement (or something) and was staged at the Amalgamated Clothing Workers hall in probably 1997. Tom rocks, in his own way.

But you can sort of see why I thought his run for Congress might be a bit quixotic. I am glad to see, however, that Tom is getting lots of great press, which may set him apart from a very crowded field. Tom Frank writes about him today in An Unrepentant New Dealer Runs for Congress, Howie Klein gives him a shout-out at Huffington Post, and Hendrick Hertzberg speaks of him glowingly (comparing him to Obama) on his New Yorker blog. Tom Geoghegan announced his candidacy on Daily Kos yesterday. Joe Trippi writes him up there today (better link here) and Geoghegan has his own op-ed in the NYT today.

It seems like a long shot, but if there's a moment when Tom Geoghegan can do it, this is that moment, when voters want decent men and women to represent them. I don't know anything about the other candidates (I've been out of Chicago for almost 9 years, sadly) but Geoghegan definitely has a great mind and moral core. I hope IL-5 learns that too.

Learn more, and donate or volunteer, at www.geogheganforcongress.com.

My New Year's Resolutions

I haven't gotten around to posting on this for a couple of reasons. First of all, my only resolutions are sort of heavy hitters, about which little can be said. Also, its actually harder to blog when you are ungainfully unemployed, as it turns out there are thousands of things to do when you are not working. So, the resolutions:

1. Get a job;

2. Be more patient, and less angry, with my children.

That's it. And according to Cosmo, I have already messed up on #1. Because, according to Cosmo, you are definitely not supposed to quit your job before you get a new one. You also aren't supposed to resolve to "keep your number down" (i.e. sleep with fewer people) but I might add that resolution to my list just because it would be 100% the easiest resolution I have ever made.

Just to Sum Up

The swearing-in was dominated by one of those guys who speaks for the full two minutes on every topic on the agenda, and its always to rail on some indeterminate cause, usually a procedural nicety that no one on earth cares about. He argued with the newly sworn School Board about whether he was permitted 2 or 3 one minute speaking times in a annual meeting rather than a regular meeting. The fact that the President of the school board bothered to argue with the guy demonstrates either that he is truly uncynical  or explains why the Oakland Unified School District can't find its ass with both hands. (Sorry for the florid speech, mother in law).

Then I went to hear Jon Hiatt, General Counsel to the AFL-CIO and Steven Greenhouse, labor reporter for the NYT, talk about the Employee Free Choice Act. That had its own insane open mic guy; it was a man with a thick accent complaining that unions are not doing enough to keep foreigners from taking American jobs. A real head-scratcher. He lost an already-impatient audience with that one, obviously. 

So a busy first day of unemployment, unlikely to be replicated tomorrow, as I am planning on just going to buy some light bulbs for the kitchen.

Good excuse?

Dellums was at a memorial service.

Sent from my iPhone

Unreal!

No mayor! Dellums is so disrespectful. Its the freaking city inauguration. Its not like he's doing something else.

O-Town Dispatch

Decided to stop by the Oakland City Council swearing-in to see Rebecca Kaplan sworn and generally see the scene. Its in council chambers and there is a keyboardist playing George Michael's Never Gonna Love Agaib really slowly. Rebecca is wearing jeans, undeterred by the moment.

We will see what our mayor has to say today, assuming he can be bothered.

(chirp, chirp)

I guess it isn't cricket season (that being the insect season, rather than the sport) but it has been quiet around here. With the kids around all day, and me at home and basically trying to vacate (staycate?), I haven't had much room to blog. In fact the only vaguely bloggable moments have been Q's awesome turns of phrase, usually shared at 5:30 am. The other day, he said, "My eyes are real but Wee-um's eyes are fake." He confirmed this repeatedly when asked but offered no explanation. In response to B shaving his beard, he said, "Daddy, your voice sound different with no beard." It's like having our own wee Yogi Berra. 

But preschool is back in session, and my unemployment begins tomorrow, so stay tuned for much more blogging unless I am quickly employed by a far less tolerant entity. Happy New Year,