"The first family of Minnesota Blogging" - Mitch Berg, Shot in the Dark

Illuminating fun, faith,
family and foolishness.

“Peace, prosperity, liberty and morals
have an intimate connection.”

- Thomas Jefferson

Sunday, November 30, 2008

W00t!!! Who's Da Author? I'm Da Author!
*Ahem* Sorry about that, but:



and:



don't forget:



That's right. I have defeated the National Novel Writing Month, just in time for December. 50,000 words! Pwned!
Okay, back to the writing board.

Ciao for now.
Area Couple Enjoys Abstinence!
This is Ben and Faith. Hi! Earlier today the Night Writer directed our attention to an article about a couple who had waited until their wedding to kiss (hubba hubba! btw). They are both abstinence instructors in the Chicago area schools and they decided together to match their words and their actions. It sounded great to us.

Then we dipped our toesies into the Comment section. There were some supportive and congratulatory comments left by folks. And there were all manner of derogatory comments. Huh? Now just what would the fine readers of the Chicago Tribune have against a couple who waited until marriage to do... um, marriagey things? NW is going to get into some particulars about the logical fallacies, ad stupidem attacks and just plain silliness that some peeps took the time to type. For our part, we just wanted to write this post to chuckle.

Chuckle? Yes, you heard what we said. You see, we haven't kissed yet and we are having a great time! How is this possible? Can future husband and wife have a good time without, uh, "having a good time"? You'd better believe it! But you'd never know it from most of those comments! If we trusted all of those comments to reflect reality then we'd both be weird perverts who are mentally disturbed or gay or, (wait for it)... just like Hitler! I kid you not. There was this one dude who busted out the Nazi argument to try to dis abstinence! Ich bin ein Berliner! Ja!!!

Now that's all pretty silly, right? Of course it is. For our part, for the time being, we are getting to know each other better and better. We are learning to laugh, to pray, to talk, to worship, to compromise, to collaborate and to complement each other. In short, we are spending time learning how to be best friends. Fear not! The loverly stuff will take care of itself when it's time.



Update:

Night Writer here. As Faith and Ben said, I have some commentary on the, um, commentary that accompanied the original newspaper article. It seems some people have had some very strong, very negative reactions about two people with an alternative lifestyle getting married according to the dictates of their conscience. As I write this there are currently 290 comments on the original three or four paragraph article. Many are positive but most aren't, and the negative ones seemed to fall into a few common buckets. You can read them individually for yourself, but in the name of tolerance and diversity, allow me to address these comments here by theme or by representative quotes.

How can you really know a person without physical intimacy? (Related: what if they're a bad lover, or hiding something, what if your sex drives aren't compatible?)
This is the obvious response, and one raised in the article as well — shouldn't you try something out before you "buy" it? Of course, if you buy the logic that not having sex before you're married is a sure recipe for marital trouble you'd naturally have to believe that having sex before marriage is a major factor in today's record-low divorce rate. My experience is that sex may make you physical, but it hardly makes you intimate. In fact, once sex enters the relationship it clouds your ability (or even your desire) to properly evaluate your partner's character, personality and long-term goals if doing so could interfere with getting sex. Rather than taking the time to talk out important issues, or raise questions about troubling actions or statements by the other person, you keep quiet so as not to cause a fight that might mean "no sex tonight." At the very least, you take up time that could be invested in finding out what the other person is really like.

The physical passion will eventually wane to some extent but the person's character and personality will stay the same. A person's inherent witchiness or sloth, ambition (or lack thereof), the number of kids s/he wants, the way s/he treats others — all can be missed during the "interview" process while you're focusing on immediate gratification.

The question, at heart, is a good one but it is missing the crucial point. It is important to find out in advance "who" your partner is, how s/he performs under pressure and if you're "compatible"; these are all things, however, that are better revealed before physical intimacy takes place. Sexual compatibility ultimately comes from knowing you have a partner you trust and understand, and who trusts and understands you. And let's not forget that the most important sex organ is the brain. Good sex — no, great sex — begins long before you ever get into bed.

Why don't they allow themselves to be alone or to kiss — don't they have any self-control? Does abstinence mean 'no kissing'?
Wise people know that good intentions are often overcome by passion and "weak moments" are often the result of negligence or poor planning. The solution is simply to not put yourself in situations where temptation can easily have it's way; not out of fear of the act, but out of wisdom and a firm and common understanding of what is really important to each of you. Kissing doesn't necessarily have to be a part of abstinence, but it does tend to inflame the passions and natural desire you have for one another. Making a habit of it continually raises the stakes and lowers resistance, making it more agonizing to back away.

I'm reminded of the scene in Oh Brother, Where Art Thou:

Delmar: Gopher, Everett?
Everett: No thank you, Delmar. I'm afraid one-third of a gopher would only arouse my appetite without beddin' her back down.

How many times can you go into Old Country Buffet and confine yourself to the appetizer table before you can't help but rush over to the main courses and desserts? And the best way to avoid speeding tickets isn't to buy a radar detector, but to not speed in the first place.

Why deny our human desires just because of some invisible guy up in the sky / religion teaches us to fear and deny the physical / God made us to enjoy sex!
Setting God aside (for the moment), there are very good natural as well as supernatural reasons to be careful about sex, such as unintended pregnancy, sexually-transmitted diseases, abortion, child support and invitations to appear on the Jerry Springer Show. Then there're all the "exes": ex-wife, ex-gf, ex-bf and extraordinarily complicated holiday schedules. Have you ever noticed that "ex" is two-thirds of the word "sex"?

Perhaps a loving God, not an angry one, really wants the best for us and would like to see us avoid all these ugly complications so he offered some rules on how to use the free will and other gifts he gave us in ways that enhance our life and our ability and capacity to help others.

"Why do we reward this kind of behavior by making celebrities of these fanatics? These freaks have no business anywhere near our youth!" Yeah, don't they know that we're supposed to be making celebrities of all those bed-hopping actors, actresses, heiresses and rock stars! The nerve of some people!

"Let's be honest he's gay or he's lying. She's definitely a flake, so good luck with that. They both need to grow up!"
I'm continually amazed at the number of psychics, mind-readers and psychiatrists trolling the comment sections of newspapers and blogs; nearly as many as those with the special ability to make up statistics on the spot.

"It scares me that these people are teaching our children about important issues of sexual health." It scares me that there are people out there who can't abide someone daring to tell their children, "No."

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

I am thankful for: Revelation

It's Thanksgiving week and I'm busy finishing up projects at home and work before jumping in the car with the wife and kids and Ben, heading for the family gathering a good ten hours away.

As I reflect on the things I'm thankful for, I must include those of you who have made it a point to visit here regularly.

Yes, I write this blog to amuse and test myself, but I appreciate your interest and I want to have something (hopefully) interesting here each time you look in. As such, I don't want to let this blog "go dark" in the coming week while I'm traveling and enjoying my family so I've collected a few past posts that you may or may not have seen that illustrate the things I'm thankful for and collecting them here by theme in the coming days for those of you who take the time from your own obligations and celebrations to stop by.

Today's theme: I am thankful for what God has shown me.

Duty is ours. Results are God's

Love — and the difference between being a friend and being friendly


Oh Theocracy!

The Bridges of Minneapolis and San Luis Rey, and the Tower of Siloam

Man in the Street

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Perspective and thanks-giving

Writer, traveler and international woman of mystery Buffy Holt recently paid a vist back to the West Virginia mountains where she got her start. This trip back she received some more timeless wisdom from her nearly-timeless grandfather, "Pa." Pa still chops the wood to heat his home and carries jugs of water from the spring into the house. He also fills his coal bins and freezers and works hard to provide for his family's needs. Hard times? Not so much.
I thought, again, My grandfather shouldn’t have to have it so hard and asked him “Do you ever sit around and wonder at how different things are? Back when you were young and now. How different things could have been or might still be?”

This is what he told me:

“You know, a lot of things have changed. A lot of people aint around any more. I think about that a lot. Sometimes. But it don’t bother me like all the talk going on now. What bothers me is people saying ‘I don’t know how we’re gonna make it. Times is so tough’.

“I can’t understand it. Everybody talking about the hard times we’re in. They don’t know a thing about it. That’s the trouble. Talking about hard times and such. They don’t have no idea what hard times is. People starving in other parts of the world. Let me tell you, there’s all kinds of things that start to not-matter real fast when you can’t put food in your belly.

“Buddy I know about that stuff. I aint kidding you. Back when we was raised up there was times there wasn’t things to eat. And winters! You aint never seen such winters. You couldn’t even walk in the snow it was so deep. I remember wearing old thin shirts. Shoes you had to strap on cause they wasn’t nothing much but bottoms. I seen many a day where all there was to eat was a little meat grease and some green onions. I had that a lot. And it tasted real good too.”

He laughed.

“It was years ago. Man, that comes back to me whenever I see people filling their plates so full they gotta throw half of it away. Then standing there, shaking their heads and rubbing their bellies and talking about how hard times is.

“Why, I never had it so good. Neither have they. They just don’t know it.”

It reminded me of my grandfather and his life, and of the November when he was a little boy when the family farmhouse in the Ozark foothills burned, leaving him, his parents and his many brothers and sisters "homeless". They moved into the barn, my grandfather and his brothers sleeping in the loft where there were finger-sized spaces between many of the boards; when they would wake up in the morning there was often snow on their blankets. It was hard and it was discouraging, but there wasn't anything that dismaying about it: you just did what you needed to do to survive.

Buffy's account also reminded me of a poem by Richard E. McMullen:
One Time My Dad
One time my dad said to me, I don’t
see why people complain about how hard they work
or how tired they are. Nobody works hard but
farmers, miners, lumberjacks and foundry workers.
This was before power tools, tractors, and such things, and all
the work was done by hand. When farmers in Upstate New York
left to get away from the stones, what
they found in Southern Michigan were: more stones.
As they cleared the land, the horses hauled the black walnut trees
and stumps to the side of the field and the farmers burned them.
Black walnut was no good to them, too hard to work.
Grandpa Conde, when he finally left the farm and moved
to Milan, got a job in the foundry and walked to work
and back, six days a week, 12 hours
a day, for 50 cents a day. He thought
he was sitting pretty. Whenever the noon whistle blew, people
would say, Well, Hell’s out for lunch. But he would sit
down in a cool place and eat his lunch.
Once, when she was a little girl, Aunt Ida
asked her father, who was working in his garden, why
he worked so hard and wasn’t he tired? Grandpa
straightened up from his hoeing and answered: I never get tired.
I am thankful for: Health

It's Thanksgiving week and I'm busy finishing up projects at home and work before jumping in the car with the wife and kids and Ben, heading for the family gathering a good ten hours away.

As I reflect on the things I'm thankful for, I must include those of you who have made it a point to visit here regularly.

Yes, I write this blog to amuse and test myself, but I appreciate your interest and I want to have something (hopefully) interesting here each time you look in. As such, I don't want to let this blog "go dark" in the coming week while I'm traveling and enjoying my family so I've collected a few past posts that you may or may not have seen that illustrate the things I'm thankful for and collecting them here by theme in the coming days for those of you who take the time from your own obligations and celebrations to stop by.

Today's theme: I am thankful for health.

Night in the Emergency Room

Of Migraines and the Fear of Man

The Difference Between Men and Women: #436

Monday, November 24, 2008

Of The Eighth Name Pending


For those of you who may not have gotten the last one, when sassy-pantedness bears no ends, we don't want those ends bared.



This is one of my homecoming pictures. His eyes are blacked out for his own safety. Special thanks to MD for hair doing, makeup, and theme song.

Ciao for now!
Things that I am thankful for: Family

It's Thanksgiving week and I'm busy finishing up projects at home and work before jumping in the car with the wife and kids and Ben, heading for the family gathering a good ten hours away.

As I reflect on the things I'm thankful for, I must include those of you who have made it a point to visit here regularly.

Yes, I write this blog to amuse and test myself, but I appreciate your interest and I want to have something (hopefully) interesting here each time you look in. As such, I don't want to let this blog "go dark" in the coming week while I'm traveling and enjoying my family so I've collected a few past posts that you may or may not have seen that illustrate the things I'm thankful for and collecting them here by theme in the coming days for those of you who take the time from your own obligations and celebrations to stop by.

Today's theme: I am thankful for family.

Dad to the Bone

My Head in Her Hands, and a Wistful Mr. Henri Looks Back

The Knowing

What a Dad's to Do

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Someone has a fever

They're making Dr. James Hansen sweat again. From a Christopher Booker column in the Telegraph, The World Has Never Seen Such Freezing Heat (emphasis mine):


A surreal scientific blunder last week raised a huge question mark about the temperature records that underpin the worldwide alarm over global warming. On Monday, NASA's Goddard Institute for Space Studies (GISS), which is run by Al Gore's chief scientific ally, Dr James Hansen, and is one of four bodies responsible for monitoring global temperatures, announced that last month was the hottest October on record.

This was startling. Across the world there were reports of unseasonal snow and plummeting temperatures last month, from the American Great Plains to China, and from the Alps to New Zealand. China's official news agency reported that Tibet had suffered its "worst snowstorm ever". In the US, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration registered 63 local snowfall records and 115 lowest-ever temperatures for the month, and ranked it as only the 70th-warmest October in 114 years.

So what explained the anomaly? GISS's computerised temperature maps seemed to show readings across a large part of Russia had been up to 10 degrees higher than normal. But when expert readers of the two leading warming-sceptic blogs, Watts Up With That and Climate Audit, began detailed analysis of the GISS data they made an astonishing discovery. The reason for the freak figures was that scores of temperature records from Russia and elsewhere were not based on October readings at all. Figures from the previous month had simply been carried over and repeated two months running.

The error was so glaring that when it was reported on the two blogs - run by the US meteorologist Anthony Watts and Steve McIntyre, the Canadian computer analyst who won fame for his expert debunking of the notorious "hockey stick" graph - GISS began hastily revising its figures. This only made the confusion worse because, to compensate for the lowered temperatures in Russia, GISS claimed to have discovered a new "hotspot" in the Arctic - in a month when satellite images were showing Arctic sea-ice recovering so fast from its summer melt that three weeks ago it was 30 per cent more extensive than at the same time last year.

A GISS spokesman lamely explained that the reason for the error in the Russian figures was that they were obtained from another body, and that GISS did not have resources to exercise proper quality control over the data it was supplied with. This is an astonishing admission: the figures published by Dr Hansen's institute are not only one of the four data sets that the UN's Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) relies on to promote its case for global warming, but they are the most widely quoted, since they consistently show higher temperatures than the others.

If there is one scientist more responsible than any other for the alarm over global warming it is Dr Hansen, who set the whole scare in train back in 1988 with his testimony to a US Senate committee chaired by Al Gore. Again and again, Dr Hansen has been to the fore in making extreme claims over the dangers of climate change. (He was recently in the news here for supporting the Greenpeace activists acquitted of criminally damaging a coal-fired power station in Kent, on the grounds that the harm done to the planet by a new power station would far outweigh any damage they had done themselves.)

Yet last week's latest episode is far from the first time Dr Hansen's methodology has been called in question. In 2007 he was forced by Mr Watts and Mr McIntyre to revise his published figures for US surface temperatures, to show that the hottest decade of the 20th century was not the 1990s, as he had claimed, but the 1930s.

Another of his close allies is Dr Rajendra Pachauri, chairman of the IPCC, who recently startled a university audience in Australia by claiming that global temperatures have recently been rising "very much faster" than ever, in front of a graph showing them rising sharply in the past decade. In fact, as many of his audience were aware, they have not been rising in recent years and since 2007 have dropped.

Dr Pachauri, a former railway engineer with no qualifications in climate science, may believe what Dr Hansen tells him. But whether, on the basis of such evidence, it is wise for the world's governments to embark on some of the most costly economic measures ever proposed, to remedy a problem which may actually not exist, is a question which should give us all pause for thought.


HT: The Lumberjack

In a related story; EU Facing Revolt Over Climate Change Enforcement:
The European Union is facing a revolt from poorer members over tough climate change targets at a time when the global economy is heading for recession.

Italy has teamed up with seven east and central European countries - Poland, Hungary, Latvia, Lithuania, Romania, Bulgaria and Slovakia - to threaten a veto over Brussels legislation that implements an EU target to cut Europe's CO2 emissions 20 per cent by 2020.
Troy eager to drop Childress

Ex-Vikings "receiver" Troy Williamson says he's still mad at the way Coach Brad Childress treated him and wants to "duke it out" with Childress at this weekend's Vikings/Jaquars game (Williamson now sits for the Jags).
Williamson, now in Jacksonville, said Wednesday he lost respect for his former coach last year and would like to "duke it out" with him when the Jaguars host the Vikings on Sunday.

"We can meet on the 50-yard line and we can go at it," Williamson said.

The 6-foot-1, 200-pound receiver said he liked his chances against Childress, too, especially with a few inches and at least 10 pounds on the coach. Williamson even said he would fight with both hands tied behind his back.

I think Williamson has an unfair advantage in that he always played as if both hands were tied behind his back anyway so he's used to it. If he did connect, however, watch out! Williamson's "hands of stone" would make Roberto Duran curl up in his corner and cry.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

The long way
"I believe in the free speech that liberals used to believe in,
the economic freedom that conservatives used to believe in,
and the personal freedom that America used to believe in."

-- Doug Mataconis, Below the Beltway blog


The building where I work was envisioned by its famous architect to have two reflecting pools alongside it. Therefore it features two rectangular cement depressions on its west side. In the nearly 30 years that I've been coming to this site, "envisioning" the pools is about all you've been able to do because when they are filled with water they leak prodigiously and incorrigibly, despite many efforts over the decades to correct the problem. The property managers ultimately gave it up as a lost cause and left them empty, despite my suggestion that they would make wonderful planters.

Earlier this year, however, the building was sold to new owners who have taken up this grail. As a result workmen have been milling around for the last several weeks, measuring and marking and ultimately tearing up sections of the bottom of the pools; the short, repeated bursts of jackhammers on cement sounding just like the staccato ripping of a German MG42 in the WWII Brothers in Arms xBox game I like to play in my spare time. In the game when you hear that sound you get down or you die and I involuntarily ducked my head a couple of inches the first time I heard that rat-a-tat as I approached my office a couple of weeks ago.

The larger pool runs the length of the building, while the smaller is to the north, separated by a 30 foot wide plaza that leads to the portico at the front of the building. The plaza provides the path for me to get into the building as I walk from the light rail stop. A couple of weeks ago a tall, chain-link construction fence formed a parenthetical bracket along the north end of the large pool to keep gawking civilians out of the work area; for our safety, of course. Personally, I would be able to control myself and my curiosity enough to stay clear, but you know you can't trust the masses.

A day or two later a similar construction framed the south end of the smaller pool, creating a fenced path across the plaza, still about 30 feet wide. As construction has proceeded, however, the fences have been moved closer to each other as the plaza itself is bisected to lay a drain pipe. Last week we were down to an 8-foot-wide access across the plaza. Ugly, and a little inconvenient, but at least we could get through.

Today when I walked up the 8-foot access was gone and solid fencing extended all the way across the plaza. To get in I had to walk a quarter of a block around to the north and come up on the building from the other side while the chill November wind continued to abuse my ears. Tomorrow I'll come via the Skyway route from the train, which means, ironically, I'll actually take an underground tunnel for the last block to reach my objective.

It's been getting colder for some time now; it could be a long winter.

"I'm working so my grandchildren will have the same freedoms
my grandfather enjoyed."

--Rev. Dr. Tom Jestus

Monday, November 17, 2008

Name Pending Double Oh Seven! (No, that has absolutely nothing to do with the comic).


This happened last night. I said the first line, and MD said the second. I didn't get it at first, but you probably will (if you don't, we'll explain it).

Remember, I'm still taking comic names!

CC to RM: Is the text big enough?!

Ciao for now (back to writing the novel!!! Gah!!! Not enough time!!!).
Take a moment, Tiger Lilly, then back to the keyboard!

From today's Writer's Almanac:
It's the birthday of a young man who became a best-selling author as a teenager, Christopher Paolini, born in California (1983) and raised near Paradise Valley, Montana. He was homeschooled, and when he finished high school at age 15, he had a lot of time on his hands, so he decided to write a fantasy novel. He began Eragon, finished it a year later, at age 16. He spent a second year revising that draft, and then gave it to his parents. They loved it, and in 2002 Eragon was self-published through the family company. The Paolini family embarked on an exhausting tour to promote Christopher's book. They went to 135 promotional events that first year, dressed in red and black medieval costumes. Paolini got offers from both Random House and Scholastic, and in August of 2003 — when Paolini was still 19 — the book was published by a division of Random House/Knopf.

The book went straight to the number three spot of the New York Times Bestseller List. Paolini has written two best-selling sequels to Eragon, and he is at work on a fourth book.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

55 random things
I was tagged by Gabrielle at I'm Free Now. The "55 Things Meme":

55 Things
1. The phone rings; whom do you want it to be?
Ummmmmm, Publisher's Clearinghouse.

2. When shopping at the grocery store, do you return your cart?
Always.

3. If you had to kiss the last person you kissed, would you?
I think so.

4. Do you take compliments well?
Yes, thank you very much.

5. Do you play Sudoku?
Yes, but I'm not obsessed like some people I happen to live with.

6. If abandoned alone in the wilderness, would you survive?
It seems unlikely.

7. Do you like nipple rings?
Never seen one up close and personal, if you know what I mean.

8. Did you ever go to camp as a kid?
Nope

9. If a sexy person were pursuing you, but you knew he/she were married what would you do?
Cough, cough. That happens all the time. I just ignore it.
NW: Hey! *puff, puff* Come back here!

10. Could you date someone with different religious beliefs than you?
I'm married so I quit dating a few years ago.


Friday, November 14, 2008

Night Chicks at the Diner
The Night Chicks, without the mother hen, but with special guest, the top rooster! At The Copper Dome on Randolf and Hamline:

NW: Brrr. I wish I had worn my fleecy vest
MD: I know, it's cold.
TL: Really? I'm hot.
NW: Just slurp away at the hot coffee...ahh, the mug feels good in my hands.

NW and MD are mesmerized by the tv, which is positioned above and behind TL. It is tuned to FOX News.

TL: You're so lame, just watching the tv with that glazed expression on your face.
NW: Mmm, glazed. Makes you think of having a glazed donut...
TL: Should I get peaches or blackberries on my waffle?
NW: You could ask the guy, I bet he knows.
TL:...
MD: They won't let me get any kids portions, would they?
NW: Ask the guy, and bat your eyelashes.
TL: Bludgeon him with your eyelashes!
NW: The tv's talking about the Coleman-Franken race, and here I haven't had my breakfast yet. Oh, the inhumanity!!
TL: What's so important on that tv that's more important than me and Faith?
NW: Well now they just had video of wildfires in California, and then they put Bill Ayers' photo on the screen. I think the story is that Ayers is responsible.
TL: That explains it.
NW: Obama came in here (Copper Dome) when he was in town and had blueberry pancakes.
MD: I'm glad I'm not getting the blueberry pancakes.
TL: Is that why there's not very many people in here?
NW: In this neighborhood? I think they're having his booth bronzed.

MD: (looking at TV) Ooh, it's the Ashton Kutcher commercial.
NW (Talking to tv): Get a shave, kid.
*Waiter thinks NW is talking to him*
NW (muttering): Was talking to tv, never mind...

NW: So where're the mounds of hilarity? You guys are a lot funnier when you're with your mother.
MD: It's not sunny enough.
TL: Plus the tv's on.
MD: As you can see, our hilarity depends on our surroundings.
NW: Well, I know it's not me.

Only 40 shopping days left

Peter at Half a World Away discovered an amazing product in an airline shopping magazine during one of his recent trips from half of the world to the other: the Potty Putter. And if the name isn't enough to pique your interest or close the sale, here's the text from the ad:
You know those days when you’ve eaten something that hasn’t agreed with you and you can’t be too far away from the bathroom? Well, this is the perfect companion for such occasions: The Toilet Golf. The package includes: a putter with articifial turf, a miniature club, golf balls and flag. It also comes with a very useful sign to hang on the bathroom door “Do Not Disturb: Golf Game in Progress”.
...
The Potty Putter is a true innovation in toilet entertainment and the perfect gift for the golf (or toilet) enthusiast in your life!

No, I don't want one (though I could use a new bug bat since the last one died). Peter thinks it is obviously the gift for the person who has everything.

I think it's the perfect gift for those idiots at professional golf tournaments who love to shout "IT'S IN THE HOLE!"

(Yes, that was potty-humor from me. At least I won't show a picture of the product. You have to go here for that).

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Name Pending 006
Okay, only MD is going to get this, but I don't care.



Also, I'm changing the frequency of Name Pending to approx. once a week, instead of every Monday, because every time I forget...'WHERE'S THE WEBCOMIC???' I will try to post it on Monday, but if it doesn't appear, don't lose hope.

Ciao for now!

Monday, November 10, 2008

Proud Poppi

Sometimes the girls call me "Poppi". I think it started when we were in Italy a couple of years ago and the phrase, "Gelato, Poppi!" was so cosmopolitan -- and effective. As they have gotten older, calling me Poppi is an affectionate endearment in so many ways that "Great Hairy Thunderer" isn't. And today Poppi is just about popping his buttons.

I wrote last week about the Mall Diva's debut with her friend Casii at The Black Sheep's Open Mic Night. Last night they hit another open stage, this time at the Dunn Brothers coffee shop over on Grand in St. Paul. Whereas the first outing was for teens, the Dunn Bros. stage is a long-standing, bi-weekly event for a pretty much adult audience. There are a lot of Old Folkie types there, including one guy who looked like the ghost of Tom Joad but with even less meat on his bones, and another guy who relished the opportunity to stand on a stage with a guitar and a microphone and drop high-decibel f-bombs -- not because he was outraged, but simply because he enjoyed it, I think. The girls more than held their own, singing the same three songs they sang previously, and engaging the audience which featured a lot of bright, smiling faces and bobbing heads. One guy was even moved to sing along with them as they sang, "It is well, it is well, with my soul."

I remember the first time my wife and I heard the young Diva sing in public. It was for a Christmas program when she was in second grade. Neither her mother or I have a lick of singing ability and we weren't expecting any in our progeny so when Faith told us she had a "solo" we figured she meant a speaking part. Lo and behold -- or should I say, "Hark!" -- she sang! My wife and I were flabbergasted. Never had we dared expect such a blessing! She later showed herself to be a quick study musically as well, once picking out a tune by ear on the piano even before she had had lessons. Later, when she had been taking lessons for a year, she played a recital with such skill and élan that others thought she'd been studying for year. To see her and Casii taking such confident and polished steps on a public stage is nearly enough to make me burst.

But that's not all. As Tiger Lilly posted on Saturday, she just won a short-story writing contest sponsored by the Dakota County libraries. The contest was to write a ghost-story or thriller (the deadline was Halloween) and she took time off from the novel (or novels) she's already writing to knock out something that came to mind. As with her sister, I was stunned with the result.

Stunned, but not surprised, if that's possible. I've given her writing assignments in the past, and we've seen her skills posting here on this blog but those were all things I asked her to write or some inspired silliness for public consumption. True, there were the series of "Larry the Guinea Pig" books she wrote when she was little, and she's let me peak before at some of her work in progress that was pretty impressive, but she didn't let her mother or I see this short story before she turned it in. Naturally, I expected her to win a prize because I figured she could out-write people her age, but when I read her entry after she posted it here I was awed at how skilled and mature her writing was.

If you haven't followed the link from her Saturday post you really need to do so. This is not a cute story that a teen-ager would write with the literary equivalent of "like" and "you know" phrasing or heavy-handed prose and awkward symbolism. The story grabs you from the first, one-sentence paragraph and she shows a lot of writerly techniques in phrasing and repetition that you would expect to see -- if at all -- in an older, more experienced writer. It is also, definitely, a "chiller" which I wouldn't expect from my sweet little angel, but I can definitely pick up on some of the bent from the "Dead Like Me" TV series we've been laughing at lately.

Seeing such a polished, fully-formed story was amazing even with my high expectations for her. It's both exciting and motivating to see this from her. I know she's been pounding away, doing at least 1700 words a day, as part of the National Novel Writing Month event and I figure if she's going to be doing this level of work I'm going to have to raise my own game or cede the writing title in the family to her. Either that or perhaps change the name of this blog to "The Night and Day Writers"!
What he said
Stop for just a moment, or 3 ...
3
by John Berryman

Sole watchman of the flying stars, guard me
against my flicker of impulse lust: teach me
to see them as sisters & daughters. Sustain
my grand endeavours: husbandship & crafting.

Forsake me not when my wild hours come;
grant me sleep nightly, grace soften my dreams;
achieve in me patience till the thing be done,
a careful view of my achievement come.

Make me from time to time the gift of the shoulder.
When all hurt nerves whine shut away the whiskey.
Empty my heart toward Thee.
Let me pace without fear the common path of death.

Cross am I sometimes with my little daughter:
fill her eyes with tears. Forgive me, Lord.
Unite my various soul,
sole watchman of the wide & single stars.


From "Eleven Addresses to the Lord", "3" by John Berryman, Collected Poems 1937-1971. © The Noonday Press, 1989.

Saturday, November 8, 2008

I WON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Can you tell I'm excited?)
In case you're wondering what it is that I won, I recently entered a short story contest for all the Dakota County libraries. The subject was supposed to be Nail Biters. The description was, 'Write a chilling, mysterious, suspenseful short story.' I figured that even though I'm not that great at writing scary stories, it would be good creative practice. So I wrote the story down, typed it out, edited it and sent it in. It was shorter than I wanted it to be, but that was okay. What worried me more was that it wasn't going to qualify as chilling, mysterious, or suspenseful. It was more dark rather than any of those descriptions. I didn't think it was my best work, but I thought, 'What the heck, might as well send it in.'

So today, we went to Galaxie library in Apple Valley, where the winners were going to be announced. Mom and I had to sit through some lame presentation from this organization called P.R.O.P.H.E.T (Paranormal Research Of Poltergeists, Happenings, Entities, and Tragedies. Nice and sunny, hmm?) about the paranormal. After that was (finally) over, the winners were announced. The lady announced the age category 12-14, which was my category. She said that she read through all 89 entries and picked out which ones were the best, than sent them to the two published authors they have on staff to decide the best out of those.

First there was the honorable mention, whose name was Pate. I visibly twitched at that, I thought she was going to say my name. Then she went on to third and second place. When she finally got to first, I thought, 'Say Patience, say Patience!!!!!!!'

"And our first prize winner is...Patience Stewart!" I could have screamed and danced around, had my voice been working (I have an evil cough), but I settled for whispering , 'Yes!' and leaping from my chair as Mom said, "That's you!!! Yay!"

Here's the certificate:



I also got a $50 gift certificate for Barnes and Noble, which I wanted to go and spend right away, since there was a Barnes and Noble right across the street. Alas, I must wait for next weekend when we go to the mall.

If you want to read it, I've posted it below. It's not horribly long. Keep in mind that it's kind of depressing (I was exercising my dark streak), and that I don't feel that this is my best work. But if it was good enough to be first place...


Friday, November 7, 2008

Oh no you didn't

Some time ago I did a list of three-word sentences you should and shouldn't use with your wife. Simple and easy to follow, that post has made it's way around the blogosphere. Even simpler, and with the added appeal of being set to a catchy tune, is this short but valuable "user's guide":



HT: Persistent Illusion. I may need to add this to the "Are You Marriageable" series.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

It goes on

Wednesday's Writer's Almanac featured a poem by Bruce Taylor entitled "Middle-Aged Men, Leaning." It begins:
They lean on rakes.
It's late, it is evening
already inside their houses.

The children are gone.
Their wives are on the phone
talking softly to someone else.

This frost, this early Fall
upon their minds, a small
measure of patience and regard

as if the twilight world
in bright papery pieces
diminished so and thus.

It caught my attention because my fingers and palms are still sore from all the yard work we did last weekend; yard work that had me leaning on rakes and shovels as well as standing on ladders, wrangling in brush piles and wrestling with awnings. It was a lot of hard, dirty work but we were blessed with an extended stretch of early September at the end of October, giving us the time we desperately needed to get the yard ready to host the Mall Diva's upcoming nuptials in the spring.

While Tiger Lilly, my wife and I worked on the gardens the Mall Diva and Ben cleared out the four flower beds in front of the house and planted tulip bulbs, happy in the thought of the rewards for their labor regardless of whatever hardships and depradations should be visited upon these by the winter, the squirrels or the administration.

A long, cold season may be ahead but there's so much promise on the other side of it. I've lived through many a winter now and quite a few temporal seasons of hope and change -- some of which even almost worked. I take any and all forecasts with as many grains of salt as I'll eventually pour on my sidewalk in the months ahead, but one thing I know for certain is that the head of my government has decreed that seedtime and harvest shall not cease as long as the earth remains.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Live at The Black Sheep

As posted here earlier, last Thursday night was Open Mic Night at The Black Sheep coffee cafe and we went to watch and listen as the Mall Diva and her lifelong friend and musical partner, Casii, made their public debut. It was an interesting evening sponsored by the city of South St. Paul as an activity for the youth. The performances were all pretty good, but what I noticed most was the differences in attitude between the performers.

The first singer was a young man who is likely too young to remember Corey Hart, yet he was wearing sunglasses at night all the same. He was a beefy guy with a delicate voice reminiscent of Dan Haseltine of Jars of Clay. He did a couple of original compositions and some covers but all of the song selections were of disaffected angst that spoke of a misery too deep for anyone who hasn't, say, been audited. Even his take on Green Day's "I Hope You Had the Time of Your Life" had irony dripping off of it ... and right into my chai latte.

Another performer was a young woman who read her poetry from a spiral-bound notebook (I couldn't tell if it had hearts on it, but I suspect not). She stood in a way that announced she had "issues" even before reading her work that featured lines about brains splattered on windows and hamsters committing suicide. The girl prefaced some of her reading by saying her poems use a lot of symbolism and she hoped we "got it." Not a problem, as it was about as subtle as a manhole cover in a salami sandwich.

The young folks were good, and I know that it sounds as if I'm mocking them. Well, I am mocking them I guess, but it's more in recognition of my own artistic self-absorption when I was their age (I'd rather listen to Vogon poetry without sedation than go back and read my old, old stuff). Perhaps it's because, while we may suffer a lot of pain when we're young, we don't have a lot of years of experience to put that pain in perspective.

Or maybe it's just what is fashionable now.

When the Diva and Casii took their turn, however, it was a completely different attitude — and I say that completely acknowledging my proud-parent bias. They did two high-spirited and funny original songs (including, if you can believe it, a highly symbolic one about a hamster) plus their own take on the old hymn, "It Is Well With My Soul." They were warm and upbeat, engaging with the audience even though they did without the microphone. With their voices, and in a relatively small room, they didn't need a mic. In fact, they were nearly able to drown out the "whacka-whacka-whacka" of the espresso machine behind the counter. As with the other performers, they wanted the audience to feel what they felt; the difference is that they were having fun.


Photo from RaymondPhotographic.com.

I can think of a number of reasons why that might be, but I think the main one is "the perspicacity of hope".
Name Pending 005


Okay, so I'm not the best at drawing cars. Anyway, enjoy (or don't. Who am I to tell you what to do?).

Ciao for now!

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Too funny...and too true

British comics Bird and Fortune explain the financial crisis in this clip entitled "How the Markets Really Work". It's a lot funnier than my last 401k statement ... but just as painfully close to the truth.



An excerpt from this "interview", discussing the sub-prime fiasco:


Surely the reality is that the people who have lent all this money have been incredibly stupid.

Oh no, no...the reality is that what is stupid is that at some point somebody asked how much these houses are actually worth. I mean, if they hadn't asked that question everything would have gone on perfectly as normal.

Now some will say that this will lead to a financial melt-down. Can it be avoided?

It can be avoided provided the governments and central banks give us — the speculators and financial advisors — the money back that we've lost.

But...isn't that rewarding greed and stupidity?

No, it's rewarding what Prime Minister Gordon Brown calls "the ingenuity of the markets."

I see....

We don't want this money to spend on ourselves. We want this money to go into the market so we can carry on borrowing and lending money as if nothing had happened without thinking too much about it.

Well, if worst came to worst and you didn't get this money, what then?

Well then, the market would crash and I would say to you what people like me always say, "It's not us who will suffer, it's your pension fund."