Didjital Thoughts

Emile (fiction)

2011-07-20T09:08:00.001-07:00

The distinctive concentric circle pattern molded into gum rubber was worn nearly smooth, just barely perceptible on the soles of his feet. Anyone passing the shabby, crowded, chaotic shop would have known this, as he kept his feet perpetually propped precariously on the counter facing the glass entry-door. Emile Kinsey, proprietor of Emerald Lion Records (at the corner of ninth and Pine, check us out!) sat that day, as he did six days a week, leaned back in his chair, his feet propped on the counter, a hand-rolled splif unlit between his full lips. Today’s tracksuit was adidas (of course) – emerald green with red and yellow striping, the store’s Lion-head logo embroidered over the left breast.

On the wall behind the counter were Jamaican and Ethiopian flags hung vertically, side by side, surrounded by a Smithsonian-esque collection of flyers and posters announcing all manner of historic live music performances from Jimi Hendrix to Prince Buster, Mookie Blaylock to Rage Against The Machine. At the center of the wall, just below the two flags were Emile’s two most prized flyers: a flyer promoting Bob Marley’s legendary 1978 “One Love Peace Concert” signed by Bob himself. Next to that poster hung an autographed publicity photo of Courtney Walsh, Emile’s all-time favorite Cricket player.

Emile’s tidy braids were pulled into a thick ponytail. The top of his head was enclosed in a chic knit beanie, also emblazoned with the Lion-head logo. His heavy, dark-rimmed glasses reflected the street scene outside.

“Another rainy day, Walshy.” The store mascot, Walsh, a brindle pit bull, rescued from a dog fighting operation in Federal Way some years earlier, lounged lazily at Emile’s feet.

Emile smoothed the newspaper he had been reading, adjusted his glasses and began to contemplate the crossword. The skanking jangle of Prince Buster’s “Ska War” filled the store. At that moment, the small bells above the entry-door announced the arrival of the first customer of the day. Walsh opened one eye warily and, not recognizing the patron, hauled himself to his feet to investigate.

“Welcome to the Lion.” Emile set the splif aside, folded his paper carefully and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his surprisingly Roman nose.

Brain Drain - The Final Writeober Entry

2010-10-29T22:33:00.000-07:00

There was a time, let's call it eight hours ago, that I knew exactly what I wanted to write about tonight. Now, as I sit in front of my computer, with nine-million (or a dozen) distractions in the form of other tabs, my sleeping infant, the potential for video-gaming for the first time in a month, an unopened bottle of Framboise in the refrigerator, cinnamon rolls, a stack of books I have started but not finished, an art project that is likewise partially complete, a scarf that I would like to finish knitting before it is too warm for my son to wear it, a stack of ironing that needs to be done, dishes that need to be put away, and whatever other activities I might imagine, I can not think of what it was I wanted to write.

I suppose it will come back to me, eventually. That this is the last Writeober entry is unimportant, ultimately. It was fun and interesting to partake in this project, and I look forward to next October. I believe I submitted every entry and made it all the way through the month. Yay, me. And Yay you all. Thank you for your incredibly interesting, well-written, funny, melancholy, sweet, and otherwise touching words. I wish you all the best in your future writing endeavors. I can't wait to read you all again.

Rome

2010-10-27T22:39:00.000-07:00

In hindsight, I can say that I loved Rome. When I was there, I was not as certain. I was fortunate enough to visit Rome with my wife (then girlfriend) in 2006. Of course our schedules dictated that we travel in summer, which was fine when we reached Paris where the weather was milder and every store was having huge July sales.

In Rome it was hotter than the surface of the Sun. To compound the frustration of being hot throughout our visit, we spent at least a couple of hours every day lost. Rome is chaotic, with roads and alleys branching in every direction, no rhyme or reason to the way things are numbered (that I could discern), and buildings that overhang the alleys making it impossible to see landmarks that might give you a clue as to where you are, or should be going.

We were standing on the steps of the Church of San Luigi dei Francese. It was closed for lunch, so we found something to eat and planned to go back after their lunch hour. We searched for two hours, but were unable to ever find the church again.

The only time I felt really comfortable with my bearings in Rome was when I was running in the morning. Rome is a different city early in the morning, as most cities are. We stayed in the Trastevere neighborhood, which was perfect for running. Gently sloping roads through beautiful residential areas, little churches, sidewalk cafés, and interesting people. I would run from the hotel through the neighborhood to the river, across one of the lovely bridges, through the old Jewish ghetto, along the river through twenty-five hundred years of history.

I would go back to Rome in a heartbeat. I would visit in winter, maybe for Christmas. I would stay in Trastevere again. I would plan plenty of down time each day, so that when we were lost, it wouldn't matter, and we could just enjoy discovering each new alley.

Passive Aggressive

2010-10-26T20:22:00.000-07:00

I've been accused, on more than one occasion of being passive-aggressive. I've been guilty some of the times, and sometimes not. On the occasions of my guilt, I have (eventually) recognized my own shortcomings and owned them. It's not always sufficient to mitigate the damage done by the original transgression, but I take pride in "owning my shit," so to speak.

My personal brand of PA is often expressed in veiled comments about unnamed people, cryptic references, or false agreement. I don't think I have ever sent an anonymous message to someone calling them out, and I know that I have never posted anything anonymously in public calling someone out for their shortcomings.

I have also made a concerted effort to be more direct of late, as I am beginning to recognize the potential damage that passive-aggressiveness can do. Eventually, I may be able to eliminate the fault entirely from my repertoire, and focus on all of my other faults.

Ten Novels That Helped To Shape Me

2010-10-22T00:12:00.000-07:00

As a reader, and writer (such as I am), I think often about the novels that have played a roll in either inspiring, challenging, depressing, or simply pleasing me. These novels that drew me in, made me feel part of the world contained within their pages, triggered something in my mind, gave me pause, fueled my anger, or stoked my passion. In short, they contributed, in some way, to who I have become.

10. The Good Earth - Pearl Buck
9. Huckleberry Finn - Mark Twain
8. Black Boy - Richard Wright
7. The Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
6. One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel García Marquez
5. Shalimar The Clown - Salman Rushdie
4. The Magic Mountain - Thomas Mann
3. The Hobbit - J.R.R Tolkien
2. War And Peace - Leo Tolstoy
1. The Divine Comedy - Dante Alighieri

Some of these were read for the first time in a high school class, others for pleasure. All of them have been part of my collection for twenty years, or more, and have prompted multiple readings. Each contributed something to my makeup as a writer and as a person.

Open Letter To My Child

2010-10-21T00:12:00.000-07:00

Dear Son,

There have been a lot of stories lately about children who don't quite fit in, and for whom that situation becomes too much to bear. At some point in your life, you may find that you feel different from your friends in some way or ways that you do not fully understand, and that those feelings of "otherness" begin to lead to other feelings, more sinister feelings.

On the other hand, you may have a friend or friends who seem different from you in some way that you do not fully understand, and they may begin to feel as though their differences are somehow not acceptable.

In either case, I want you to grow up knowing a few things.

1. Being different is not only "okay," it is something to celebrate. If we were all completely the same, we would be very bored indeed. Whoever you are, you should simply strive to be the best version of "you" possible.

2. People who seem not to "fit in" sometimes just need someone to reach out to them to help them feel accepted. Regardless of what your friends might say or think, reach out to the kids who appear to be misfits. Your dad was one of them once, and some of the best people I know still consider themselves outsiders in one way or another.

3. You can learn something from everybody you meet. People who are going through different life-experiences from your own can offer you a different perspective. Soak it in.

4. We love who we love. No matter what the wide world around you tells you, love is a good thing. I advise you to always be open to love, and not to fear it, no matter what.

5. Your mom and dad will always love you, no matter what. We want you to be happy, we want you to be a good person, and we want you to be you. Beyond that, we don't really have any preferences as to what or who you become.

6. Don't judge people. It can be massively difficult at times, but resist the temptation to dismiss someone as wrong because they don't do things the way you do them. Instead, take the time to try and understand them, and if you still don't agree, that's okay. You can disagree and still respect, appreciate, and even love that person.

7. I don't like the word "never." Having said that, I want you to never feel that suicide is a viable option. I knew people who took their own lives. I know people who tried and survived. I imagine all of them felt, in that moment, that they truly had no other options available to them. You will always have options. No matter how grim your situation seems, no matter how radically different you may feel, or how badly you may be treated by those around you, you have options. Your mom and I will always do everything in our power to make sure you are safe, and that you know you are loved.

You are precious to us now, and become more so every minute.

My heart breaks for the children who felt they were so different, who were told they were so wrong, that they could no longer bear the pain, and felt they had no options. My heart breaks for their parents, their friends, their families... I hope that when you are older, and you read this, you understand why I wrote it. Some of those survivors I mentioned have brought joy to my life beyond measure, and their pain is beyond my comprehension. I am inspired by their stories, and honored by their love. I hope that with this letter, I can pass some of their love and joy along to you; I want nothing less for you than a rich, full life, in which you can spread that same love and joy to the world.

With love always and forever,
Dad

love in a dream

2010-10-19T00:05:00.000-07:00

as I lay silent
enveloped in dark
electrical impulses
forge images in my
superconscious mind
unbounded
perfect
limitless
eternal

love

How I Met My Wife

2010-10-16T23:34:00.001-07:00

I was working in an exercise equipment store, bored silly one night when a cute girl walked in. It was not common to see women younger than fifty in the store, so you might imagine I was pleased. Then she told me she was just looking for some dumbbells. Wonderful. That should have taken all of five minutes.

An hour and a half later she left saying she would be back at the weekend. We had spent the time chatting and looking at a variety of exercise equipment in which she had expressed zero interest. The second time she came in, she was accompanied by her mother and a guy. Not a good sign for my prospects of chatting her up further.

To my surprise, she spent more than two hours in the store, most of it chatting with me, with a little bit of talking equipment thrown in. She still didn't buy anything that day, but promised to be back the next weekend. I sincerely hoped she would come back, as the next weekend was my last weekend in that store.

The next weekend, just as she said she would, she came back. She brought her mom again, but no guy this time. She was in the store for nearly four hours, during which time she decided to buy some stuff, finally. Most of the time was spent talking about movies and books and other stuff totally unrelated to her purchase.

At one point, I offered to lend her a dvd we had talked about.

When she came to the counter to finalize her purchase, I asked her for her personal information, for delivery purposes. When I asked for her phone number, I joked "I promise not to use it for any nefarious purposes."

To which she responded, "You know, I'm not entirely opposed to nefariousness."

I asked how she felt about dinner, she said she enjoyed dinner. I asked whether she might enjoy dinner that night. We had dinner that night, and the next. Now she is my wife.

I still get grief for offering to lend her the dvd. Apparently, I should have known at that point that she wanted me to ask her out.

Solving Problems

2010-10-13T22:02:00.000-07:00

When I am aware of a problem, I want to solve it. I am the classic cliché-man. It kills me to have a problem floating "out there" and no action being taken to solve the problem. I want to talk it out. I want to examine the options. I want resolution. Even if the outcome is not what I would prefer, I would prefer to have an outcome.

So I sit here tonight, with a lingering problem. I am trying very hard to practice patience, to let things settle before setting to work to solve the problem. It is, I admit, very difficult for me. It is also imminently worth the effort. Wish me luck.

The Shop

2010-10-11T20:13:00.000-07:00

A brief conversation yesterday got me thinking again about a business idea that I have had bouncing around inside of my head for a few years.

I've been in retail sales in one capacity or another for seventeen years. I am thirty-six, so we're talking about most of my adult life. I have a lot of experience, and there are aspects of sales that I really enjoy. I've never really been a big fan of working for other people, though, and I have never sold something that I really love (except for brief stints at Pottery Barn - where they nearly made me hate their products...nearly). There are things I would love to sell, though: really cool clothes, great hi-fi gear, vintage records, antique books, art, gourmet food products... the list could go on.

My idea, as you may have guessed is a boutique. Not just any kind of boutique though, a Man's boutique. A shop based on the idea that there are things that make a man feel good, things that make a man more appealing, and things that make a man's life more enjoyable. I'm not talking about porn, and I'm not talking about NFL-themed furniture. I'm talking about handmade dress shirts, hand-wired Japanese hi-fi components, French truffles, Japanese denim, Italian coffee... the things that make a sophisticated, stylish man grin.

I would call it, simply, "Inman." It would be housed in an old, loft-style space with subdued lighting and exposed brick and beams. There would be a DJ booth, with a DJ spinning a mix of Frank Sinatra, Radiohead and Thievery Corporation. There would be a wall for signing and leaving messages. There would be comfortable chairs in which to sit and read the paper while sipping your cappuccino (made however you like, as long as you like really hot, whole milk cappuccinos in winter, and iced whole milk cappuccinos in summer).

There would be seasonal products galore, as much locally produced stuff as I could lay hands on. One of the ideas that I like most is having a parfumier who would come in toward the end of each season to produce custom scents for my clients for the upcoming quarter. Perhaps a day scent and an evening scent for fall, composed in early August and delivered before the solstice.

The shop would also be a place where men could "hang out." Something like the old-school barbershop, but with more of an open-door policy for women, because, while the shop would cater to men, I firmly believe that a real man should always make the people around him feel welcome and comfortable, regardless of gender. Thus would the shop be the venue for all manner of soirée, always with a theme revolving around some aspect of the best life.

Someday I may have such a shop. If I do, you should expect an invitation to come and have a cappuccino on me, sit back, read the paper and listen to the music. Maybe you'll find something you (or a man in your life) can't live without.

Haiku

2010-10-08T23:13:00.001-07:00

10.8.10

1
the chance to break free
came and went without notice
left crippled with doubt

2
mountain breeze lifts me
above the scurrying crowds
the peak is just there

3
forest floor needles
cushions for weary ramblers
in shadows’ embrace

4
tongue-tied, tripping fool
the girl that loved you took flight
with her went your heart

5
shadow’s true depth plumbed
I find a self forgotten
buried in chaos

Lament

2010-10-06T19:18:00.001-07:00

10.6.10

Some experiences light up your life with a level of intensity that is disproportionate to their real importance, and then they fade. Often the fade happens quickly, and without a lot of warning. Relative to the brightness you experience during the height of their glow, the darkness that accompanies the fade seems very deep, indeed. After a time, you realize that your life is really no darker than it was before the flare; the experience that burned so intensely, though it left an imprint on your soul’s retina, did not forever alter your ability to perceive all of the other light sources around. As the darkness abates, you can look back on the experience fondly, if with a tinge of regret. Appreciate your moments in that glow, and go on.

Why I Don't Get Drunk at Work Functions

2010-10-04T21:16:00.000-07:00

Why I Don’t Get Drunk at Work Functions

In the spirit of full disclosure, I will admit from the very beginning that I am not a heavy drinker by any rational measure. I am, however, especially reticent about drinking with co-workers.

I often wonder what my co-workers think of me when we are at a function and I do not join them in drinking to excess. I know how I feel when I see them getting ever-more inebriated, louder, less inhibited, more inclined to flirt in what I (and most people) would consider wildly inappropriate ways. I know that I will have to talk to these same people (often the next day), and in some cases offer them guidance or execute some form of disciplinary action related to their work – the effectiveness of which would surely be diminished by them having seen my infamous karaoke version of “Sir Psycho Sexy.”

So I opt to either a) not drink at all; or b) drink very judiciously. The aspect of this practice that might be considered ironic is that I tend not to be a boisterous drunk. I am the classic example of alcohol amplifying one’s personality, rather than changing it; which is to say that I get even more reserved and pedantic.

Alas, I think that alienating my coworkers with a lengthy, drunken, half-correct dissertation on the relative merit of Supply-Side Economics or American Foreign Policy Blunders of the Cold War Era is, ultimately, no better than alienating them with unwanted sexual advances.

So I don’t get drunk at work functions. Let them think me stodgy, at least they will still respect me in the morning.

The Father

2010-10-01T21:54:00.001-07:00

He stood in the doorway of her room, looking around. He wanted to imbibe the details in full, to not let anything pass his notice. The carpet could use replacing, the walls painting, he thought. In the shaft of sunlight filtering through the blinds dust motes danced and turned, in fact there was a fine layer of dust on every available surface. She hadn't made her bed. He had tried to get her to make her bed each morning, but she never did. Her bookshelves looked like hell. He thought about his library, with the perfectly organized titles, priceless first editions he had never opened, everything perfectly in order and sterile, unused. Her bookshelves were the bookshelves of a true bibliophile. Chaotic, the books' spines wrinkled and broken from being opened and closed so frequently. She was a true lover of books, not for the sake of the book, but for the words inside. Her desk was, likewise, a study in disorder. Papers, pens, more books...her iPod. He wondered what she was listening to now. The posters on her wall were dated, beginning to fade, promoting bands he figured she hadn't listened to in years.

You might be tempted to think that, after standing in that same spot each of the last four thousand one hundred and twenty one mornings, recounting in his mind the same details, considering the same questions, he might be satisfied with the answers provided. You might be tempted to think that he would have accepted the reality that she was never coming home. He just couldn't bring himself to let his daughter go.

I love it when you call me 'Big Poppa'

2010-04-21T23:24:00.000-07:00

If you know me, you may know that I am going to be a dad. I've been thinking a lot about what kind of dad I am going to be, and what I want to teach my child. We decided to learn the gender of our child at the last ultrasound, so I know that I am going to have a son. Of course, some part of me is quite happy to know that my family name has the opportunity to continue as a result, but I am also concerned with what sort of man I will raise.

You see, I look around me and see boys and men who don't act right. They treat women poorly, are disrespectful of their elders, regularly fail to be courteous, and generally act like petulant brats. I look around and see girls and women who have been conditioned to expect boys and men to behave like moronic animals, and have convinced themselves that accepting such behavior is the cost of having a mate.

I don't want to raise such a man. I want to raise a man who is strong, proud, courteous, intellectually curious, caring, respectful...I want to raise a man who reveres women, not as sexual objects but as equals, as possessors of wisdom and perspective that balances his own. I want to raise a man who celebrates the contributions of his elders to his own comfort and security. In short, I want to raise a 'real' man.

I sincerely hope that I am qualified. Wish me luck.

10 Songs that Changed My Life

2010-04-01T00:27:00.000-07:00

We all have them: songs that changed us, songs that defined us, or defined an era for us, songs that changed the way we listened to or heard music.

Whether it was the way you felt about the future the first time you heard "It's the End of the World as We Know It," or how you felt about your ex-girlfriend the first time you heard "Girlfriend in a Coma," certain songs can have the power to alter our consciousness.

These are not necessarily my favorite (though in some cases they would be on that list, too), or even what I would consider the best songs, but for me, the ten most influential songs in my life (for lack of a better way of describing them) are:

10. Wheel in the Sky - Journey
This is the first Journey song I remember hearing, and it was a game changer. Up until that time, I had listened to all sorts of music, but nothing felt as powerful as this.

9. At Last - Etta James
Before I heard this classic, I didn't pay much attention to this style of vocal soul and r&b music from the '50s and '60s. I associated the melodramatic string arrangements with my grandparents' music and tuned out. This song was on the soundtrack when I worked at Pottery Barn in the early '90s, and I heard it many many times. Unlike many of the songs I had to listen to repeatedly, this one grew more pleasant with repeated listens. My ears were open, and my love of classic soul, r&b and vocal jazz was born.

8. Night Fever - The Bee Gees
I am a child of the disco era, and this is one of the best tracks from that era. The groove is unmistakable, and thirty-some years later, it still makes me want to dance.

7. New Wind - 7 Seconds
Being a skater-kid in Sacramento in the '80s meant listening to a certain type of punk music. Having a best friend with a musically-astute older brother meant listening to the smartest, most political, and I would argue most musical strain of that type of punk music. 7 Seconds told my story and the stories of the kids I knew, and related our stories to the bigger world in a way that was profound then, and still resonates today.

6. Shoplifters of the World - The Smiths
That same friend's older brother brought the Smiths to my attention, and changed the way I thought about guitar players in the process.

5. But Not Tonight - Depeche Mode
I was very young, and I received an old 45 rpm single (does anyone remember? with the big hole, you had to have the little yellow insert to make it work on your turntable...) for a birthday (10th? 11th maybe...) Having grown up listening to Kiss, the Beatles, Journey and the Bee Gees, Depeche Mode's mix of synthesizers, drum machines and sound effects was completely fresh to my ears. The lyrics were opaque, but somehow I understood what they meant.

4. Purple Rain - Prince
I had heard plenty of Prince before I heard this. After I heard this, Prince became my musical hero.

3. Freedom - Rage Against the Machine
This one hit me at just the right time. I was studying the history of the US West, the focus was the decimation of the native population, and then I heard this and saw the video and it just resonated.

2. When Ya' Gonna Learn - Jamiroquai
Paris, 1993 - Virgin Records on the Champs Elysées. I was wandering through the biggest record store I had ever seen, with a group of girls from all over the world, and heard this. Needless to say, Jamiroquai quickly became associated with good times, and the joyful feel of their music propped me up through many dark hours.

1. Just Like Heaven - The Cure
It's been twenty three years since I walked into the record store down the street from my middle school and heard "Just Like Heaven" on the sound system. My friend Paul (who had money, whereas I did not) bought the 12" single on the spot and handed it to me, saying that he could tell that I really needed to have it. Over the following two dozen or so years the Cure has been a mainstay of my music collection, a touchstone for what matters to me in music, and a standard against which I measure my affinity for all other artists. And "Just Like Heaven" sits at the very pinnacle of my musical passions. I love the song more than any other, and I still have a sense of giddiness when I hear it come on the radio, or a public sound system in a store or restaurant.

Paris, 1993

2010-02-25T23:25:00.000-08:00

I often wonder what my life would be like now if I had made a different decision in July, 1993. I was traipsing around Europe that summer. I was nineteen, dating a girl who would become my first wife. "First Wife," a phrase which indicates that she was, and/or is not my current wife. Ugh... another story altogether, but not really. In any case, at that time I had a steady income from an annuity set up to see me through university, I was living at home and going to school at Sac. City College.

I arrived in France on 3 July. My intention was that I would stay a week, then I was going on to Rome by way of Lyon and Turin. On the evening of 11 July, the train workers in Italy went on strike. Apparently this was not an unusual occurrence at the time, nor is it today, I imagine. I was in Turin at the time, in the train station in the middle of the night. The train bound for Rome was not going anywhere any time soon, and one of the French conductors suggested that I had, essentially, three choices: 1. I could wait and see if the strike ended quickly, and then take the next train to Rome. 2. I could rent a car and drive to Rome. 3. I could get back on the French train and go back to Paris. Option one was a bit frightening, as there was no "Euro" then, I had no Italian money, and very minimal knowledge of the language. It was past ten pm, pouring rain, and I had no idea where in Turin I was, not that such knowledge would have been all that helpful. Option two was entertained briefly, as there was an American girl on my train who was scheduled to fly out of Rome the next morning, and she offered to split the cost of a car rental... As interesting as that story would likely have been, we decided that, having never driven in Italy, and knowing the reputation of Italian drivers, we would be better off not attempting such a trek. Option three, it was, then. She and I got back on the French train and shared a car all the way back to Paris. She was worn out from her European odyssey and slept most of the way. I read and thought about what awaited me in Paris.

Late in the afternoon of 1 July, I boarded a train in Killarney, Ireland. I disembarked in Cork, and boarded a rather large boat bound for Calais. Twenty two hours on a boat in the North Atlantic. Oddly enjoyable because of the group of students (from the University of Washington) I met in the bar. I was doing my weirdo-traveler thing, sitting in the bar on the boat drinking beer and reading Tolstoy. One of the girls from the group came to my table and asked what I was reading. She was surprised to find out that I was American, I guess I did not give off an American vibe in my seersucker suit and oxblood Doc Martins. They invited me to join them at their table, so of course I did. We spent the rest of the boat-ride hanging out, drinking, listening to live jazz, and not sleeping. When the boat docked in Calais we had to run, literally, to catch the train for Paris. At eight AM, after twenty-plus hours on a boat, running while carrying a large bag was not enjoyable, but the five of us made it to the train. When we reached Paris, we split up with the agreement that we would meet up later that evening to celebrate our first night in Paris. I checked into a great hotel, the Hotel Troyon, just off of the Champs Elysees.

That night, I met up with the UW kids, and we wandered the streets of Paris until quite late. We found our way to a Metro station where we came across a couple of guys busking. Great singers, actually. They were doing a really good job with "No Woman No Cry," and had attracted quite a little crowd. I found myself standing next to an absolutely stunning young woman, dressed all in black, her curly black hair pulled loosely away from her face in an untidy pony-tail. I mustered the courage to ask, in French, how she liked the performance. I thought I had done a pretty good job with the question, so when she looked at me and said with a thick New York accent "oh, you're American?" I was slightly miffed. I laughed it off and we chatted a bit. I was intrigued, and I suppose she must have been as well. She gave me her phone number in Paris, and we agreed to get together in the next few days. As it turned out, we had lunch the next day, went out that night, picnicked the following day in the Jardin de Luxembourg, walked around Paris in the middle of the night the next night, had dinner with her brother (who was in town with his jazz band, having just played at Montreux)...

In other words, we hit it off pretty nicely. Nothing romantic, particularly, but a fast friendship. I got to know many of the students with whom she studied, learned a bit about her, and got a glimpse of a life that I envied and coveted. When I left for Rome, I was fairly certain that I would never see her again. We had exchanged addresses, and planned to write, but that was all. Imagine what I spent most of the train-trip back to Paris thinking about...

I arrived back in Paris early in the morning of 13 July. 14 July is Bastille Day, France's most important national holiday, and the thirteenth is a day of parties. I checked into a hotel, slept for a few hours, woke up around noon and got some food. When I called Elena (Paris-girl) she seemed pleasantly surprised that I was back in Paris. We met up, along with her whole group, that afternoon and plotted our Bastille Day-Eve activities. We ended the evening at a bar in the Latin Quarter called "Route 66," run by Australians... talk about international. I danced with all of the girls in our party, drank screwdrivers, we sang along to "Hip Hop Hooray," and at the end of the night, I walked back to my hotel, and marveled at the fact that an ice cream shop on the Champs Elysees was open and busy at three in the morning.

A few days later, it was time for me to leave Paris again, this time for good. I was going on to Germany, to stay with friends of my mother. I would be flying out of Frankfurt within a week or so, headed back to my girlfriend, my school, my life. Looking back, the decision I question is this: I could have stayed. I could have, instead of getting on that plane in Frankfurt, gotten onto a train bound for Paris. I could have found a cheap apartment and stayed. I had income, I didn't need to work (which is good, because it was almost as hard for an American to work legally in France then as it is now!), I could have tried to get into a school there, written, played music, and generally lived a bohemian, expat sort of existence. I would likely never have married my girlfriend, which means I would never have divorced her, either.

I am not unhappy, but I still wonder what my life would have become had I stayed in Paris. I will tell my children this story, hopefully it will encourage them to go out on that limb and do the things that inspire them. Maybe someone who reads this will be inspired...

more words

2009-11-02T00:09:00.000-08:00

725, to be precise. I should probably have written more tonight, but I didn't. Tomorrow is another day to make more progress. I like where the story is going. I decided to start with the end and thus give myself a target for the rest of the work.

I'm still mulling the podcast idea... I'd like to include other writers and book people, if anyone is interested. In the meantime, I'm off to bed.

2025 down, 47975 to go. I'm still confident.

NaNo Update

2009-11-01T08:32:00.000-08:00

Well, I started. Since I couldn't start until midnight, I didn't write a ton - 1300 words +/-. I have a great feeling for how the story is going to go, though. I am looking forward to my writing session this evening very much.

As for the podcast idea, expect some news on that by the end of this week. Don't forget to check out my NaNo profile page regularly ( http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/user/532244 ), I intend to post different excerpts as I go along, which will give readers a little taste of my story. You can also see how much progress I've made toward the fifty-thousand word goal.

Wish me luck, and look for more soon...

The NaNo Odyssey

2009-10-31T23:35:00.000-07:00

It's just about to start. 24 minutes before NaNoWriMo begins for me. For those of you who don't know, NaNoWriMo is goofy nerd code for National Novel Writing Month. I am participating this year for the first time, and while I've never attempted something like this, I am excited. I think I have a good plan. I will try to update this with news of my progress regularly. Also, I am considering a podcast about books that will center on the NaNoWriMo experience throughout November. Wish me luck.

Do you really hate Kanye?

2009-09-15T11:22:00.000-07:00

"I Hate Kanye West!"
"I hated Kanye before hating Kanye was cool"
"What would your mother think?"

Seriously? Kanye interrupting a pointless acceptance speech, given by a vapid pop-star, upon receiving a completely meaningless award engenders hate? What was it about Kanye's (admittedly rude) outburst that touched such a nerve in people? Were people really so interested in what Taylor Swift had to say?

It would be easy, and intellectually lazy, to attribute the vitriol to nothing more than the usual racist outrage that (according to many) lurks, barely concealed, beneath the surface all over white-America.

I tend to think that (white) people are angry at what they see as a shift away from their "values." Kanye is a convenient symbol of this perceived shift, and so bears the brunt of white fury. If you are out there, talking about how you "hate" Kanye, or how Kanye should be somehow punished, I have three words for you:

Get A Grip.

If your value system includes lynching (as I've seen suggested in a few posts about Kanye recently), then your value system is broken. If you feel this passionately about the VMAs and Taylor Swifts right to thank God, her manager, her producer, her family, and all the girls who inspire her every day to keep writing crappy pop-country tunes that will be forgotten before she is old enough to drink legally, then your priorities are probably a little out of whack.

Kanye may be a douchebag, but who really cares? And why?

Death comes to us all

2009-09-10T23:05:00.001-07:00

Every time a friend, family member, or friend of friend dies, it gives me an opportunity to think a bit more about mortality and our strange, visceral reaction to it. The emotions that accompany a death -- the grief, anger, frustration, fear, denial -- the generally morose reaction to the passing of someone close, have always confused me a bit. I have to try really hard not to recite the Buddhist parable of the mustard seed, because I know that while the story gives me great comfort, it does not always have the same effect on others.

In any case, I just don't feel particularly sad when people die. I am sometimes surprised that it happened when it did (though, being a rational person, I am never really surprised that it happened...), I am sometimes sorry that I did not get to spend as much time with a person as I would have wished, or that I did not have an opportunity to say goodbye, but it is rare that I am deeply saddened by death.

I do not, however, fault others for their sadness, or any other reaction to death.

I am a bit confused by people who claim great faith being saddened by death. It would seem to me that great faith would bring a sense of ultimate relief in death. If you believe, truly, that death brings reunion with your creator, why would death ever be a sad thing?

I tend to think that the sadness at death is a selfish sadness. Sadness born from the thought of what those who still live have lost. Again, I do not fault people for this sadness -- but as I try (and most often fail, but still try) to let go of selfishness, I just can't feel that sort of sadness.

In case you do not know the Buddhist parable of the mustard seed, here it is:

http://www.sacred-texts.com/bud/btg/btg85.htm

On Dinner

2009-06-07T21:32:00.000-07:00

I had dinner out this evening. This is not a particularly rare occurrence, but neither is it a nightly one as it once was. I had the pleasure of dining at The Metropolitan Grill. I have eaten the The Met (as it is commonly called) many times, stretching back to 2004. With a few exceptions, I have enjoyed each visit. The service is generally very good, the food is exceptional, and the atmosphere is relaxed but not usually overly-casual.

Tonight was not noteworthy, but it was very good. We began with the crab-cakes (which are exceptional, and -- oddly enough -- mostly crab). I opted for one of their chalk-board specials, a New York strip steak aged 42 days (instead of the usual 28). The waiter explained that the extra aging would yield a somewhat 'softer' piece of meat with a more 'buttery' flavor. As seems to happen every time I stray from my usual fillet mignon, I was less than thrilled with my steak experience. Don't get me wrong, it was a fabulous piece of meat, and it tasted wonderful. I could not, however, help but be jealous of my lovely dinner companion's perfectly seared puck of meat with the gorgeous blood-red interior. We both opted for the steak-fries for the first time, and both wondered aloud why we had not done so in the past. We shared a gigantic side-order of Alaskan king-crab mac & cheese. I am not sure that there are words to describe how good this side dish is. The sweetness of the crab is offset perfectly by the tang of sharp white cheddar, the creaminess of the bechamel balanced by the crispness of the panko topping, browned perfectly in the intense heat of their ovens.

The late-ish vintage (2001) Gouguenheim Malbec we chose to accompany our meat-fest was perfectly peppery, velvety and just fruity enough that it did not over-power the steaks. I have, of late, become quite fond of Malbecs of various vintages and provenances. They pair often perfectly with steaks, and tend not to break the bank.

For dessert (always the most important course, right?) we opted to share the Chocolate Lava Cake, which is quite good, and was really too much. Who am I kidding? It was fabulous (I love chocolate) and there is no such thing as too much when one is talking about a meal like this. Excess is the name of the game, and I came out a winner tonight. Next time I'll get the fillet, but other than that, I have no complaints. If you have a chance, give the Met a go.

There Is No "Us And Them"

2009-03-12T14:50:00.000-07:00

My intention is to develop this idea further in a future post, but I want to set the concept in motion before it escapes my feeble mind.

Often during the debates about the economic stimulus and bailout programmes I have heard commentators, pundits, politicos and people I know talk confidently about why we should just let "them" or "those people" or "those companies" fail. It strikes me that, while there once might have been a more discreet economy that would tolerate the failure of large companies without considerable effect on the rest of the economy, such is no longer the case. When Rick Santelli says he doesn't want to save the "losers" who can't afford their mortgages, I wonder how he will feel when half the houses on his block, or condos in his building are foreclosed and the value of his property plummets as a result. When my friend says that GM should be allowed to fail because they made poor management and development decisions in the past, I wonder how he will feel when the ripple effect of all that unemployment chokes off his own business.

The sort of narrow thinking that says we should not, as a society, take an active role in rescuing our economy for all of our good baffles me. I'm all for personal responsibility, and I am not in favor of handing out money without any regulation, or requirement for how it is spent. I do think, however, that government intervention is the only way left to stave off complete economic chaos. We tried letting the market, such as it was, determine economic growth, we sloughed off regulations, we loosened lending requirements, and we encouraged people to live a consumer lifestyle that was largely unsustainable. I'm sure someone will read this and think "socialist." Fine. If the only argument to be made against me is to trot out some 1950's bugaboo, I'm okay with that. I, for one, don't think socialism is necessarily always a bad thing.

The Proust Questionnaire

2009-02-16T22:09:00.000-08:00

I have read it for some time now, how long I could not say. I refer, of course, to The Proust Questionnaire that ends each issue of Vanity Fair. Here for your amusement, I offer my answers. Please feel free to cut and paste the questionnaire into your own blog, onto the book of faces, or wherever you might want to amuse those around you.

1. What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Great food, good wine, and someone nice to look at on the other side of the table; with no thoughts of a workday ahead.

2. What is your greatest fear?

Making someone ill with my cooking.

3. What is the trait you most deplore in others?

Willful ignorance.

4. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?

Impatience with others.

5. What is your greatest extravagance?

Great steak.

6. What is your current state of mind?

Reflective.

7. What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

Temperance

8. On what occasion do you lie?

When I think it might protect someones feelings.

9. What is the quality you most like in a man?

Confidence.

10. What is the quality you most like in a woman?

Confidence.

11. If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be?

A chef. At least, that is my hope.

12. What words or phrases do you most overuse?

"Indeed" and "It would seem."

13. What or who is the greatest love of your life?

Books.

14. When and where were you happiest?

Paris, 1993.

15. What do you consider your greatest achievement?

Not yet applicable.

16. Where would you like to live?

Paris, France.

17. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?

Being stuck in a windstorm.

18. What is your most marked characteristic?

My capacity for forgiveness.

19. What do you most value in your friends?

Wit, compassion and intelligence.

20. Who are your favorite writers?

Shakespeare, Tolkien, and some of the old Greeks.

21. Who are your heroes in real life?

Gandhi, Malcolm X, King, teachers (generally).

22. What is your greatest regret?

Not telling the people I love often enough how I feel.

23. What is your motto?

One never knows what the future holds.

24. How would you like to die?

Standing up.

The End is Near. Or is it?

2009-02-03T22:03:00.000-08:00

Where were you when the 'Culture Wars' ended? Oh, that's right. They aren't over. Having said that, they might be close to a cease-fire.

I happen to be of the mindset that politics based on identity, be it religious, racial, ideological, or otherwise, is bad politics. I also agree with our new President that those things that bind us, as Americans, are frankly greater than those things that work to tear us asunder. I believe that the key to ending, or at the very least mitigating the culture wars, is for each of us to identify those issues that trigger our impulse to vilify our opposition, and then find a way to compromise on those issues. I am not advocating that we should compromise our principles, but rather I am advocating that on the issues we find most divisive, that we seek common ground.

My question to you, then, gentle reader is this: what are you willing to compromise, if anything?

And since I wouldn't dream of asking you to do something I wouldn't myself do, here is my answer:

I have always felt strongly that 'faith' has no place in politics. During the Bush II Presidency my feeling was reinforced by the President's consistent disingenuousness about his own faith, and the role it played in his governance. I cringed when he described the (so-called) 'War on Terror' as a 'Holy War.' When he claimed that many of his decisions were taken as a result of prayer, I wondered: who is answering this man when he prays? Maybe he should stop taking the advice. It's not really working out.

I am willing to allow that real faith, the guiding principles of religion, and the moral guidance offered by sincere religious leaders can have a positive influence on the decision making of politicians who, due to the nature of their positions, tend to make decisions out of self-interest rather than for the public good.

Did I really just write that? Yes. I am willing to compromise the position that religion can only be a dividing issue in politics. I am not willing to throw out the disestablishmentarian principles that are core to my political senses, but I am willing to allow that a person's faith can guide them to be a better leader. I am willing to allow that the moral certitude afforded by deeply held faith can allow a leader to withstand the temptations inherent in power positions.

So, where are you willing to give? Are you willing to give anything? Is the goal of ending the 'Culture Wars' and moving forward into a post-identity political landscape even worth the effort? I think it better be.

25 things about me

2009-01-19T18:24:00.000-08:00

I like lists. No, that is not one of the 25 things. It is simply to say that a list of 25 random and quotidian facts about myself is appealing for a number of reasons, not least of which is that I like lists.

Shall we get on with it?

The list:

1. I took my first French class in 6th grade

2. I played violin for one year (1983-ish)

3. I wrote a series of 19 sonnets in high school, just because

4. I've broken all of my fingers, though thankfully neither thumb

5. I would live in Paris (France) in a heartbeat if work and money were not issues

6. I've been to almost as many countries in Europe as I have States in the U.S. (England, Ireland, France, Italy, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Liechtenstein; California, Oregon, Washington, Arizona, Nevada, Colorado, Massachusetts, New York, Alaska, Hawai'i)

7. I'm a sympathy puker. When I see someone puke, I can usually not restrain my urge to do the same

8. I always do crosswords with a pen, and always all caps

9. My dad played minor league baseball, but I quit after tee-ball because it was boring. I started playing football (soccer) that fall. I was 5

10. I resisted getting an iPhone for 5 months. Now I have one, and I love it

11. I am a Capricorn, but I put no stock at all in astrology

12. I really want to learn Farsi

13. I also really want to travel to Iran. The architecture, the culture, the food!

14. I don't collect things, but if I could have one collectible item it would be a first edition of 'The Hobbit'

15. I grew up in 'the hood.' I've rarely felt uncomfortable in the 'bad' parts of towns as a result. People are people, I mind my own business and it seems to work out fine

16. I love cars, but don't much care for driving

17. I am not religious. I believe in god (or something) but not in God

18. I would like to work somewhere I could wear a suit and tie

19. I don't wear a watch, for the most part

20. I used to skate, I'd like to get back into it, but I am afraid I might be too old

21. I volunteered at a cat-only animal shelter for a few years. My favorite thing was taking a scared or stand-offish cat into a meet and greet room and sitting quietly until he mellowed out. Socializing cats is a really joyful undertaking

22. I got my first (and so far only) tattoo when I was 31. It took that long to figure out what I really wanted

23. I have a lot of books. Last time I counted there were more than 600 in my house. There are more in my mom's storage

24. I wish I was a better gardener

25. I'm not really afraid of death. I've embraced the transience of life, I don't want to die, but I believe that on some level that, sometimes, being afraid of death is really just being afraid of living fully

There it is. Do with it what you will.

Atmosphere

2008-11-20T22:28:00.001-08:00

Body crackles with

Electric passion

Seized by single-minded desire

Propelled upward, ever upward

Through dizzying heights

Elevated beyond Self

A comet blazing a trail

Through your atmosphere

Freed from boundless alone-ness

By Love's fickle gravity

Hurtling faster toward

The oblivion of your embrace

Mere vapor trails of my lonely mind

Remain

A Toast

2008-11-18T22:22:00.000-08:00

A Toast! To sunrise

stellar elixir

Imbibe the copper sky

with all your heart

Make way for joy

Banish sorrow

Thou seeker of divine accord

Consumer of freedom

Embrace immodesty

in all things

Be boldly in love, bolder still in loving

A fire and riot of passions

Inhale Eternity

Always young, aspiring

Gilded by irrational exuberance

Shining beacon of foreverness

A Toast! To Sunset

Fluid canopy

Drenched in fuschia dew

Shivering with pleasure

Ode to the Intertubes

2008-10-29T14:42:00.000-07:00

Beyond the endless drift of time

Across the seas of doubt

A voice in protest speaks in rhyme

A meek and muted shout

A day, no more, is seen to pass

The hour has come too soon

Relief from anguish felt at last

A prayer sent 'round the moon

What tubes are these, that save our souls?

What light in darkness takes control?

To right the wrongs of days gone by

To set a fire across the sky

Reconnecting

2008-10-21T18:36:00.001-07:00

I chatted with an old friend tonight. It was the first time we have 'talked' since about 1992 or 93. She was one of my very best friends from 8th grade until the end of our Sophomore year in high school. Something odd happened then, and I still don't really know what it was (but I may now have a chance to find out), and we really sort of stopped being much of anything. In any case, she sent me a message through Facebook a while ago, and tonight we chatted for the first time in 15 years or more. Facebook may have a number of shortcomings, and people may hate it, but I must say I am thankful for it. My friend is quite brilliant, funny, and a great conversationalist. So, thank you, book of faces, for reconnecting me to someone that was once very very important to me.

Chapter 2 Synopsis

2008-10-06T22:30:00.000-07:00

Chapter 2 Synopsis

Me? I’m a Model

Alexis Lefevre, Jason’s girlfriend, wants to be a model in the worst way. She has been trying to build a modeling career for most of her adult life, with limited success. She has done some modeling for local companies, both in print and in local runway shows, but has never been able to make a living as a model. As such, she has always had to work other jobs. Currently she works at Victoria’s Secret as a salesperson. She has always had big dreams for herself, but is not the most self-motivated person, and thus has never really made a career of anything she has done. Beyond the issues she has with self-motivation, she also has a number of other issues. She has always believed that she ‘deserved’ things; nice clothes, jewelry, shoes, handbags, even cars.

When she started dating Jason it wasn’t so much that she expected him to buy her these things, as it was that she couldn’t imagine he wouldn’t buy her these things. She had never dated anyone particularly successful, financially before Jason. She saw his condo, his car, his clothes; all of the things that made it apparent that he was perhaps not rich, but comfortable.

As time goes by, she develops other issues, all of which will eventually lead to the disintegration of her life, as she knows it. It’s not that Alexis is a bad person, her problem is that she is unrealistic.

The problem for Jason, beyond the obvious issues with a nutty girlfriend, is that her father is his boss. The coincidence is almost unbearable.

Throughout chapter 2, Jason and Alexis’s relationship becomes more and more untenable. As this happens, Jason is pushed to make certain decisions in his professional life that touch upon his personal life, as well. All of these complications find their way, inevitably into Jason’s writing, and into his interactions with those around him.

The key questions are: what will become of Jason and Alexis? What will the complicated nature of their relationship push Jason to do? Will the disintegration of their relationship be a catalyst for Jason’s ambitions, or will he be buried beneath the weight of his decisions?

As Yet Untitled

2008-09-25T22:29:00.000-07:00

OK, here's the deal: I have decided that I will post a brief bit about each chapter of my story as I work on it; so tonight I am posting the first bit. Don't expect a ton of detail in these synopses, but if your interest is piqued, please feel free to comment or buzz me with a question and I will try to answer as best I can. Without further ado...I present 'Part I'

Part I: Quotidian Life

Chapter 1: The Gospel of St. Jason

Wherein we are meet our principal characters: Jason Kincaid, a marketing executive for a company that provides software solutions to the alternative energy industry; Alexis Lefevre, his ‘model’ girlfriend, who is not really a model, and sort of a disaster when it comes to being Jason’s girlfriend; the members of Jason’s band, his quirky co-workers, and the community he has integrated himself into on the internet.

Jason is a moderately successful marketing executive at a company in which he believes deeply. The problem is that he wants to be a writer. He fears that, though he is young, he will one day wake up and realize that he has missed the opportunity to make a real mark in the world. Each day that he goes to work and helps to make his company successful, he fears, is one more day along the path to obscurity and drudgery. His solution is to find ways to divert his energies: he writes, he blogs and he plays bass in a band. He keeps himself busy and tries to find outlets for his creative impulses. More than that, he tries to avoid his girlfriend, Alexis. It's not that he doesn't care for her, but she wants their relationship to be something that it just can never be (for a number of reasons that will become clear as the story progresses). Jason's coworkers either don't understand him, or understand him too well. Jason's band-mates are delusional, to one degree or another, about their prospects as a band. Jason just wants to make his life into the one he envisioned for himself growing up. Will he succeed? If he succeeds, what will that mean?

What do you think?

2008-09-25T22:12:00.000-07:00

I have been contemplating an idea: I am working on a story, and I am thinking that I will post 1 paragraph synopses of the chapters on here as I write to solicit opinions from anyone who has any interest in reading what I have to say. I am not 100% sure that anyone will have any interest, but I suppose the only way to find out is to throw the idea out there and see if anyone responds. So we shall see.

Got It ~ A poem(?)

2008-09-19T21:58:00.000-07:00

Every time I think

I've got it figured out

something comes along

to storm my walls of doubt

To undermine my thoughts

and submarine my dreams

remind me one more time

that nothing's as it seems

And just when everything

looks to've crumbled all apart

you reach beyond my walls again

to tear away my heart

so when the dust has settled

and all the hopes are lost

when misery, my only friend,

has counted out the cost

and fled for greener valleys

escaped my wintry hold

to feel the sun upon her face

to slough this bitter cold

I think again 'I've got it!'

I know how life will be

I'll fall asleep alone again

and dream you're still with me

Asymmetry

2008-09-18T21:29:00.000-07:00

I have a theory about relationships. It goes something like this: Most, if not all relationship problems can be traced to one root issue, which I have dubbed asymmetric expectations.

Let's take as an example two people who seem to like each other very much. They share many common interests, they bond over shared experiences, and they generally seem to be headed in the same direction. As a result, they choose to commit themselves to one-another. Perhaps they marry, or it could be something less formal. In any case, they have made a decision based on their previous experience of one-another to share their lives in some sense. Each of these people bring a set of expectations to the relationship with regard to how each will be expected to behave in various situations, each will bring expectations about how certain decisions will be made, and each will bring expectations for the other with regard to the other's needs and ability to meet their own needs.

When these expectations don't match in some respect, that is when they are asymmetrical, problems arise. If husband expects wife to respond to a situation in one way and she does not, there will likely be some sort of friction. Likewise, if girlfriend expects husband to meet a certain need which he is either unwilling or unable to meet, girlfriend is likely to be less satisfied than she otherwise should be.

It is my contention that when relationships of any sort, whether romantic or not, encounter difficulties it is because of these asymmetric expectations. This phenomena should be familiar to anyone who has either been a boss or had a boss. Perhaps people don't think about their relationship to their boss (or employee) in interpersonal terms, but the problem of asymmetric expectations is still pertinent. I don't feel that I need to expand on this particular example, as the idea of a boss expecting a certain level of performance and an employee expecting to be rewarded a certain way, and neither being happy with the other's expectation is probably painfully recognizable.

The past few days have exposed a potential asymmetric expectations situation in my own life. I have no intention of sharing the specifics for any number of reasons. Suffice to say that my low mood tonight is largely due to this realization. Thankfully, I should be able to rectify the situation by adjusting my own expectations accordingly.

Passion's Fire ~ A Poem

2008-09-16T21:38:00.000-07:00

Diffuse, the flames of passion's blaze

Consuming

Relentless

Driving ever-onward

Pushing before it

The souls of lesser men

The timid

The meek

The passionless

Passive observers

Immolated by desire

Devoured

Fodder for the flame

Sustaining it

With neither aim, nor end

Passions fire

Eternal

Burning within...

Seduced by the Letter 'C' ~ A poem

2008-09-15T22:25:00.000-07:00

Committed to clarity

Cognizant of communion

common comfort

Comic coalescence

My ever-cheerful center

the Core of my catharsis

celestial navigation in

eastern coastal waters

Carefree concordance

or concrete confinement

chains of love, broken

the crush of crushes

cynosure, I am not alone

you are, I am certain, the cure for

Cumbersome Commonalty

The Food 100~Have you tried these?

2008-09-06T23:27:00.000-07:00

1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
4) Optional extra: Post a comment here at www.verygoodtaste.co.uk linking to your results.

The VGT Omnivore’s Hundred:

1. Venison
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho
13. PB&J sandwich
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. Clotted cream tea
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects
43. Phaal
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
46. Fugu
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi
53. Abalone
54. Paneer
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin
64. Currywurst
65. Durian
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe
74. Gjetost, or brunost
75. Roadkill
76. Baijiu
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant.
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
100. Snake

There is also a vegetarian version, if that’s how you roll. And a FAQ, for those of you who frequently ask questions.

Apparently I have eaten quite a bit, but still have a ways to go! No cross-outs; that would be a sign of weakness.

Suggested soundtrack: Bhindi Bagee.

Top 5

2008-07-23T14:00:00.000-07:00

I am listening to last.fm (music like Level 42), and the song 'Last Christmas' by Wham just reminded me of a discussion I had...well, last Christmas.

The question was:

What are your top 5 favorite Christmas Songs?

Being somewhat of a contrarian, and certainly not the most traditional of sorts I came up with the following list, and hope that you all will join in the discussion ('you all' being the two people who might take a moment to read this):

5. "It's Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)" - U2

4. "All I Want for Christmas (is You)" - Mariah Carey

3. "Christmas in Hollis" - Run DMC

2. "Last Christmas" - Wham

1. "Do They Know it's Christmas" - Band Aid

I know that I will catch some flak for the Mariah Carey tune, but it's quite catchy, and she is so lovely...daft, but lovely.

Cheers! Merry Christmas in July

Going Solar

2008-07-22T11:07:00.000-07:00

Or Biomass...or Wind~

The idea is that electricity generated from fossil fuels (oil, coal, gas, etc) should be relegated to the annals of history. Al Gore knows it. He has a 10 year plan. Here's the thing, a very astute friend of mine noted that, were there massive profits built into the 10 year plan, it would have already been instituted. Since there are not, I fear that it will be up to intrepid individuals, and later pioneering groups, to spearhead the move away from traditional power generation.

The first step is to invest in alternative energy for your home. Something as simple as a solar powered water heater makes a difference, but going 100% alternative (if possible in your area) can generate a positive cash flow...so you can do your part to save the environment, unhitch your wagon from potentially disastrous foreign-oil dependence policy, and reap a real savings in terms of dollar to dollar output every month by going solar, for example. There are grants available (http://www.dsireusa.org/index.cfm?EE=0&RE=1), and if you opt to roll the cost of your solar installation into your mortgage, in most cases, the additional cost will be more than offset by the savings in your electric bill.

The next step is to create demand for alternatively powered development. This is a 'Field of Dreams' sort of thing, I guess. Build it and they will come. What I am suggesting is that real estate developers open their eyes to the potential for building subdivisions that are entirely independent of the existing electrical grid. Building homes that are solar powered, or setting aside enough land within the development for Photovoltaic arrays to power the community would set a developer apart in an appreciable way. Building the cost of the solar installation into the price of the homes, with the understanding that home-owners will never pay an electric bill could be a major marketing point. Couple this sort of power scheme with exceptionally efficient home designs and a developer could take advantage of the growing trend toward sustainable 'green' building.

The political will to divorce ourselves from foreign oil is not there currently. It is up to us as individuals and forward-thinking businesses to propel the movement toward a more sustainable, peaceful future.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=92677182
http://www.nrel.gov/rredc/

The iPhone Blues

2008-07-14T14:46:00.000-07:00

Damn Apple. Damn Friendfeed. Damn Gizmodo, Wired, Engadget, and all the other iPhone 3g hype-mongers who are making me rethink my aversion to the shiny, black Darth Vader 'phone.' My concern remains the same: my ham fingers and the tiny touchscreen keyboard do not coexist peaceably. And yet, I find myself inexorably drawn to the object, despite my reticence. I suppose I will have to go to an Apple store and touch it, play with it, and decide if the keyboard will drive me beyond insane. Why do they tempt me so?

Mamihlapinatapai

2008-07-14T10:16:00.000-07:00

The most succinct word, according to Guiness (and they would know from succinct, I suppose), Mamihlapinatapai(see resource links below) conveys a feeling that we have all had: that moment when your eyes meet someone Else's, and you both know what you desire, but neither of you wants to initiate. Your look conveys the sentiment 'After you...' as Jason at Kottke.org contends.

There is no equivalent word in English. I wonder why that is. Are we so loathe to admit to the existence of our interior lives that we can not even name that feeling which is, at its core, the unvarnished manifestation of our innermost desires and fears? I read this blurb and was struck by the thought that I have had that feeling a million times, and never even thought that it needed a name. And yet now that I know that other cultures have given it a name, I see how a name for this feeling, in English, might be useful. I fear that adopting the rather ponderous, and (to my ear) convoluted Yaghan word would not be a suitable solution.

Any suggestions?

http://www.kottke.org/remainder/08/07/16042.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mamihlapinatapai

Nicecast

2008-07-12T11:21:00.000-07:00

Am I really going to try and play music live, online? It certainly seems so. I spent quite a bit of time last night trying to figure out Nicecast, a software app that allows one to broadcast on a Shoutcast stream (Shoutcast is right up there with Pandora, btw, in terms of the musical joy it provides me). In any case, I was listening to a friend of mine play last night (one of his patented 3 hour marathon sessions) and he started trying to explain to me how to join him on the stream. I found it much more complicated than I would generally like, but I suppose I will figure it out eventually. In fact, I am supposed to figure it out by next Friday, so that I can join him on a few songs. Stay tuned. I will definitely have something to say about the experience after the fact.

Drama-rama

2008-07-07T10:20:00.000-07:00

Okay, I admit it~I am a giant nerd.

I am completely hooked into the 'role-playing game' SecondLife. As much as I know that makes me a hopeless dork, I will defend my addiction in a few key ways: 1) Unlike other MMORPGs (WoW, etc) the goal in SecondLife (or SL, as it is commonly known) is not to complete some mythical mission, nor is it to conquer some monster-infested land. Instead, the goal is to interact successfully with people of varying nationalities in creative and productive ways. At least, that is my goal. 2) There is an element of creativity in SL that is lacking from most games, regardless of content. I have learned to use a fairly sophisticated graphic program in ways that will translate to other areas of interest quite readily...including designing invitations for weddings, and the like; while I am no graphic artist, I have the ability to create things that I would never have conceived before SL. 3) The completely immersive nature of SL is such that many people have businesses, perform music, conduct research, and interact in ways that are more sophisticated and productive than they otherwise might without a global platform that is enriched by its graphic/visual nature. Unlike standard Internet chat, or even video-conferencing, SL allows for the creative display and transmission of visual ideas through a 3-dimensional interface. It also allows people to project a version of themselves that can help to eliminate pre-conceived notions about who they are, or what they may be capable of.

Having said all that, many people use SL for the same reason they use the rest of the Internet: sex. Pixel on Pixel action is very popular in SL~the vast number of purveyors of sexual animation devices, beds, hot-tubs, and the like bears this out. The fact that sexually themed regions are consistently among the most popular destinations also points to this fact. This is neither a good or bad thing, in my opinion, and it certainly does not diminish the positive aspects of SL~the creativity, ingenuity, etc. In fact, I would argue that the demand for sexual devices drives some portion of the creativity in SL. Designers and programmers learn new techniques for building and scripting as a result of their work in the SL-Sex industry, and those advances, in some cases, bleed through into non-sex material as well. The art and technology of scripting certainly is advanced by the demand for more realistic sexual movements, for example.

The core value in SL though, in my opinion, is the opportunity to interact with people from around the world in ways that would otherwise be impossible. This has always been a draw of Internet based chat programs, and discussion groups, but in SL the RPG-like environment, coupled with the deep interactivity of the 'game' makes these interactions much richer than they would be in a text-only milieu. If, for example, I am interested in discussing architecture in SL, I can go out into the 'world' and find people who are actively involved in the design and construction of SL buildings, including real-world architects. I can see their work, I can see what they are trying to accomplish and I can experience it in three dimensions instead of trying to visualize it based on what they have to say about it. Even better, I can do it myself. I can build something, and then talk to another builder about how it could be better, or what techniques I used, or could have used, etc. The experience becomes much more interactive than it would be otherwise, because in the real-world, I am not going to build a house, just for the fun of it, and then solicit the opinion of some random architect I find in a phone book. The same is true for clothing design, for furniture design, and for many other visual arts.

Indeed, even music is touched by a broader, richer interactivity in SL than in the real-world. The availability of live music, and the broad spectrum of styles and personalities, coupled with the low cost (often zero dollars), and the openness of the performers makes the experience of live music much different from its real-world counterpart. Were I to attend the number of live-music shows in real-life that I do in SL, I would be broke for one thing. Not to mention that the time involved in travelling from one venue to the other, the parking, the time before and after the show...all prohibitive. In SL, I can see Phemie Alcott at three at one venue, Raspbury Rearwin at four at another, and Digby Smalls at five at a third. There is no cost, other than the tips that I voluntarily offer, and the time to get from one show to another is negligible because...well, because each venue is just a set of programming on a different server, or a different section of the same server at SL's headquarters. How long it takes me to 'teleport' from one venue to another really only depends on the speed of my Internet connection. The best part, though, is that when I arrive at Phemie's show, she will greet me as a friend, same with Raspbury, and many other musicians in SL. Unlike real-life where we are often separated from the performers on stage for any number of reasons, not least of which is the simple fact that we don't actually know them, and don't have any reason to get to know them, in SL musicians are often your friends and your friends are often musicians; and once you know one or two, you will likely get to know quite a few others, because the community is very close-knit. Your friends may also choose to own venues in which the musicians perform, opening up an entirely new avenue for meeting and befriending musicians. It just goes on and on.

So, as I said...I am a major nerd. I am hooked into this game, like some bleary-eyed kid staring at my computer screen for hours on end, but I don't mind. I built a new house yesterday, made enough in-world money to support my clothing stores for a few weeks, and got to talk to my friends in Australia, Canada, Italy, France, China, and various US states. I can assure you that my real-life, good as it is, was not that exciting yesterday.

Introduction

2008-07-06T13:56:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my thoughts. My guess is that I will use this blog for a number of purposes, including but not limited to: Talking about the upcoming election; my SecondLife experience; musical endeavors; work-life; sports; and anything else that strikes me as moderately important.

Having said that, I'd like to get right into it.

I will be voting for Obama in November. There, I said it. I am not 100% convinced that he will be a great president, but I do believe that he will assemble a good team, and that his popularity abroad will make it more likely that the U.S. can regain some of the mass of goodwill that has been squandered over the last 7 years. If a legislator is measured largely by his or her voting record, a president, conversely, is often measured by perception. If a president is perceived to have been successful, that often counts for more than any substantive record. In fact, it is often difficult to discern what exactly a president has done.

If there is one trait that Obama possesses, it is the ability to create a perception that he is (take your pick) an agent of change, a Washington outsider, a populist, an elitist, a foreign policy wonk, an economic expert...Whether his reality matches the perception is largely irrelevant, since the true measure of an Obama presidency will be how the American public, and the world at large perceives his handling of several key events: the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan(contrary to what the Bush administration would like you to believe, we are still fighting a war in Afghanistan); the struggling economy; the price and availability of energy resources such as oil, coal and natural gas; the transition away from non-renewable energy resources; the emergence of India and China as world powers; and Iran's nuclear ambitions.

I should note that I do not believe that John McCain would be a bad president, by any means. I fear that his policies vis-a-vis Iraq would not endear us to our allies or to those in the world who are still undecided as to their position on the U.S. I am also wary of his ability to assemble a team that would be substantially different, policy-wise, to the current administration. I do, however, believe that his administration would be more transparent, just and rational.

In any case, I am voting for Obama. I would not presume to encourage anyone who reads this to vote one way or the other, but I would encourage anyone who chooses to read this to go out, get informed, and participate. If anyone has any suggestions for ways to get more deeply involved in the process, please feel free to shoot them my way!

Peace and prosperity to all of you out there in Blog-Land. See you all soon!

Didjital Thoughts

Emile (fiction)

Brain Drain - The Final Writeober Entry

Rome

Passive Aggressive

Ten Novels That Helped To Shape Me

Open Letter To My Child

love in a dream

How I Met My Wife

Solving Problems

The Shop

Haiku

Lament

Why I Don't Get Drunk at Work Functions

The Father

I love it when you call me 'Big Poppa'

10 Songs that Changed My Life

Paris, 1993

more words

NaNo Update

The NaNo Odyssey

Do you *really* hate Kanye?

Death comes to us all

On Dinner

There Is No "Us And Them"

The Proust Questionnaire

The End is Near. Or is it?

25 things about me

Atmosphere

A Toast

Ode to the Intertubes

Reconnecting

Chapter 2 Synopsis

As Yet Untitled

What do you think?

Got It ~ A poem(?)

Asymmetry

Passion's Fire ~ A Poem

Seduced by the Letter 'C' ~ A poem

The Food 100~Have you tried these?

Top 5

Going Solar

The iPhone Blues

Mamihlapinatapai

Nicecast

Drama-rama

Introduction

Do you really hate Kanye?