Back in the USSR

A mixed review for American Airlines’ customer service: exceptionally bad followed by extraordinarily good.

Photo source: American Airlines

Flew in from Miami Beach BOAC

Didn’t get to bed last night

Oh, the way the paper bag was on my knee

Man, I had a dreadful flight

John Lennon & Paul McCartney

Suna’s dad arrived late this evening after a long day fighting the airlines. We picked up The Prince at the airport. He had a long day of it. His wonderful flight that would have had him here at 11:30 AM was canceled because the plane never left Dallas for NC the previous day. We knew that ahead of time, and he had called American Airlines to have them make a change.

Unfortunately, he got a trainee who completely screwed up. Apparently, instead of rerouting him as she had said, she just canceled everything. To their credit, AA took care of him today. They paid for a limo to take him half-way across NC to catch another flight and a cab to take him from one Dallas airport to the other for the connection to Austin. Even that extraordinary measure left him in airports or on a plane for almost 15 hours. He may never want to visit us again.

After picking him up, we took him to Mesa Rosa, which has almost become a second dining room for us. A good meal and a few beers later, we were all in a much better frame of mind—ready to come home and go to bed.

Friday’s Feast

Appetizer: If you could be any current celebrity for one whole week, who would you want to be?

If I could, I would want to be Al Stewart, I guess. I’ve always wanted to write as well as he does. And it might be nice to have his wine cellar.

Soup: On a scale of 1-10 (with 10 being highest), how much do you enjoy talking on the phone?

-1.

Salad: Name a charitable organization to which you have donated (or would like to).

The church.

Main Course: What is a food you like so much you could eat it every single day for a month?

There isn’t one I would want to eat every day. Variety is the spice of life.

Dessert: Have you or anyone in your family had the flu this year?

I did. It wasn’t that bad, but the pneumonia that followed on its heels was a killer.

Suna’s Birthday

Suna models her new birthday present and smiles like Mona Lisa.

You say it’s your birthday

Well, it’s my birthday, too, yeah

—Lennon/McCartney

OK, not quite. My birthday’s next week. Today is Suna’s birthday. I gave her her birthday gift a little early so that she could wear it today, if she wanted. In fact, she put it on immediately and wore it to dinner last night, too. Anytime I can make Suna this happy, it feels like my birthday. She even forgave me for not giving her a card.

Here is a close-up of the necklace. Angela made a beautiful thing here.

So about the gift, it is a string of freshwater pearls and sterling silver beads. The clasp is decorative, secure, and sterling. The necklace and matching earrings were custom crafted by local jeweler Angela Woods-Meyer. Angela designed the set to coordinate with a silver and freshwater pearl that Suna already owned. And Suna doesn’t have to worry about seeing other people with this set; Angela never repeats a design.

Garden Song

A late frost made posing all of the plants easier. I had to bring them in anyway.

Inch by inch, row by row

Gonna make this garden grow

Gonna mulch it deep and low

Gonna make it fertile ground

—David Mallett

I spent much Saturday whipping the front yard into shape. This involved shaving the weeds as close to the ground as I could and edging the driveway and sidewalks. Edging always makes a huge mess because I have an ancient Craftsman edger ($30 courtesy of Craig’s list). So, I broke out the power washer and blew the mud of the pavement.

While I had the power washer out, I went to the back yard and washed the accumulated crud off of the small deck outside the back door. This deck was originally the floor to a treehouse the neighborhood association made us take down last fall, much to Beccano’s dismay. His grandfather built the treehouse when the kids were little, and it had remained hidden for years. Last year, the NA looked harder. It looks much better with the growth blasted off.

Then Suna and I went plant shopping. This year, Suna decided she wanted a red flower garden. Last year, I bought whatever was on sale. This year, we timed it right and were able to stay within the red pallet and within my plant budget. We bought a range of plants, including:

This whiskey barrel had a lone survivor from last year’s garden. I surrounded it with red impatience and begonias, with a little dusty miller to grow over the sides and make the reds pop.

• Begonias
• Celosia
• Dusty miller
• Geraniums
• Gerbera daisies
• New Zealand
• Sweet pea

We also had a few survivors from last year.

• Our fern grew so well last year that I split it in half and repotted it. Both halves overwintered well. One lives in the media room, the other will goes back outside.
• Several of the begonia’s overwintered, despite a lack of care.
• Two or three of our pepper plants look like they’re coming back from the dead.
• The perennials all seem to have perennialed.

That means all of my free time Saturday and Sunday was spent repotting and positioning. I had to bring them all in as soon as I got home from work on Monday. The sweet pea was fairly wilted by a late afternoon cold front that dropped temps to almost freezing, but it seemed to be doing better by bed time.

On Broadway

This was TubaBoy’s first official gig. He has learned one of the most important lessons in music: If you don’t know the part well enough to sound good, just don’t sound bad.

They say that I won’t last too long on Broadway

I’ll take a Greyhound bus for home, they all say

But they’re dead wrong, I know they are

’Cause I can play this here guitar

And I won’t quit ’till I’m a star on Broadway

—Barry Mann, Cynthia Weil,
Jerry Leiber, and Mike Stoller

This weekend was one of the best I’ve had in a while. It was all about music.

We started Friday with a Trey Bone rehearsal in preparation for Sunday night. We got together at Deadhead’s to go over a few of the songs Suna and company have been doing for years. I’ve taken to playing lead bass. With two guitars already in the mix, a lead guitar wasn’t adding that much to the sound. Now, I’m rounding out the bottom while still adding some linear movement. We decided on four songs: “Helplessly Hoping,” “California Dreaming,” “Attics of My Life,” and “I’ve Just Seen a Face.”

After gardening all day Saturday (more in a later blog entry), we went to a house concert at MoneyMan’s house. I call him MoneyMan because he is the church treasurer, not because he is exceedingly rich—although he is not poor. His spouse won’t eat anything that has ever touched an animal product or flame. Even so, there was excellent snackage. Not to mention excellent music by Karen Mal and Ken Gaines. Two steel stringed acoustic guitars, two voices, and no amplification yielded a warm, rich sound that completely filled the room. I really enjoyed listening to them. I love the imagery on her song “The Space Between.” And I like the title track to Ken’s Catfish Moon CD. He is working very hard to keep a dying style of music alive.

It’s hard to believe that this was their third anniversary playing as a duet. Their first performance together was also a house concert at MoneyMan’s house.

The sermon at church Sunday was delivered by the senior religious education class. They also provided the music. Jewel2 sang and played acoustic guitar (nylon strings) for the transitional bits and a hymn. A small ensemble played Let It Be for the collection. And TubaBoy joined an electric ensemble for the postlude. I never thought I’d hear Red Hot Chili Peppers in church.

Then Sunday night was our “gig” at BB Rover’s Café and Pub. Well, it wasn’t really a gig; it was an open mike. After Attics, the crowd was so wowed, the owner asked us to play a fifth song, instead of the three (four with an encore) we had planned. We added “Landslide.” It’s good tune for Suna to sing, but the guys have an unfortunate tendency to not put the correct chords in the cheat sheet. They’ll put the chords in one key and then capo (seven frets in this case)—I’ve always played with people who could transpose before. Sigh. I started in the written key instead of the key they actually play it in. Other than that, it was a good evening.

All of the acts at the open mike, although of widely varying style, were good. Well, maybe one of them wasn’t, but we couldn’t hear his voice in the mix. So it didn’t matter. This being my first open mike, I wonder if any city other than Austin (or maybe Nashville or LA) would have the quality of performer showing up at an open mike in an obscure café. It really reinforced that I made the right decision when I chose to stop trying to earn a living as a performer. There is just too much good, unsung talent for the market to support.

Grateful Monday

So that brings us to what I am grateful for this week: music. It is so good to have music back in my life, pervading my life even. I am surrounded by music and musicians. Oddly, I find the cacophony of developing musicians satisfying, especially when the get what they were working on. I love the wonderful exploration that comes of not being afraid to make a mistake.

The Road Goes Ever On

It really was written as a single book. The publisher broke it!

Photo source: Amazon

The Road goes ever on and on

Down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone,

And I must follow, if I can

—JRR Tolkien

Suna has a job. She starts Monday at the University of Texas. WOO HOO! Now I need to make sure I have something by the time this contract ends.

Friday’s Feast

Appetizer: Who was the last person you hugged?

Suna, this morning before I left for work. I thought seriously about being late.

Soup: Share a beauty or grooming trick or tip with us.

If you’re on a tight budget, substitute aloe vera gel for conditioner and moose.

Salad: What does the color yellow make you think of?

My mother’s kitchen in the ’70s. It was so yellow, it made me want to puke early in the mornings. I had to wait until I had been up for a while before venturing in there.

Main Course: If you were to make your living as a photographer, what subject would your pictures revolve around?

I don’t think I would want to specialize too much. If you spend too much time thinking about a gnat’s left earlobe, you miss the beauty of the creature and how it interacts with its environment. Landscapes can be breathtaking, but sometimes you need people in them. Portraits can be poignant, but sometimes it’s the setting that makes the portrait.

Dessert: What was the longest book you ever read?

• Longest read: The Lord of the Rings. You could sure get tired holding this puppy up. It went away with X1.
• Longest owned: Random House Unabridged Dictionary of the English Language. This one is courtesy of X1.

 

Ideopathy

Thanks, Trackgrease. I wish life could have been easier for you, but then you wouldn’t be who you are now. At least, you learned how to fight the ideopaths.

Beneath the complexity and idiopathy of every cancer lies a limited number of “mission critical” events that have propelled the tumour cell and its progeny into uncontrolled expansion and invasion.

—Evan & Vousden (2001)

I take today’s quotation from wordsmith.org’s word of the day. Wordsmith defines idiopathy as “A disease of unknown origin or one having no apparent cause.” From this entry, I looked for the word ideopathy, which I found in use but not on any of my favorite dictionary sites. It makes sense to define ideopathy as an idea or political movement that has become pathological. In this case, it fits the description of cancer that Evan and Vousden provide above.

Which leads to my decision not to vote in the Republican primary this year.

The other day, Suna got a recorded call from John McCain. In the recording, he promised to further the Bush administration’s attacks on the Constitution, fairness, and choice. He vowed to continue the war against science. While I realize McCain was probably trying to appeal to his rabid base, his (hopefully) disingenuous rhetoric convinced me that he is now owned by the ideocrats (read ideopaths) of the far right.

Perhaps Cthulu would be the lesser evil. Besides, he is the heir apparent to the Republican nomination. Voting for him in the primary would accomplish nothing.

That leaves Ron Paul, who has as much chance of being the nominee as I do. Voting for him would also be throwing away my primary vote.

So I am back to my usual course—voting in the Democratic primary—and my original dilemma. I still can’t decide which candidate to vote for. Clinton has the baggage that comes with experience. Obama has the vague optimism that speaks of inexperience. I still have a few days to agonize over this decision.

Grateful Monday

So that is what I am grateful for today. I am grateful that I live in a country where I can agonize over such a decision and speak publicly about that agony without fear of repression or reprisal—at least not yet.

And I want to thank Trackgrease for doing his part to help ensure that I have something here to be grateful for. He served four years in the Army and eight years in the National Guard. The operative word here is served. He was not an officer or a decision maker. He simply did what he could to put his nation’s safety and health above his own.

Let us all do what we can this year to protect and serve our democracy. If nothing else, vote. As Edmund Burke said, “All it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.” Let this be the year we stop doing nothing.

References:

Gerald I. Evan and Karen H. Vousden (17 May 2001). Proliferation: cell cycle and apoptosis. In Cancer. London: Nature. In Wordsmith.org (13 February 2008).

Wordsmith.org (13 February 2008). A.word.a.day—idiopathy. Available: https://wordsmith.org/words/idiopathy.html

Friday’s Feast

Once again, I am posting Friday a few days late. Sigh. Nothing really to say about the actual day.

Appetizer: Have you ever played a practical joke on anyone? If so, what did you do and who was your victim?

Not that I can remember. As a kid, I remember wondering why they were called “practical jokes.” They always seemed so impractical, if not down-right mean.

Soup: What do your salt and pepper shakers look like?

We have a mixed set. I had a set that looked like restaurant shakers, but Suna had pepper grinders, and I found that I liked fresh-ground pepper better. Now the pair that usually sit on the table are a medium-sized pepper grinder and a tiny salt grinder.

Salad: Where is the next place you plan to visit (on vacation or business)?

I’m not thinking that far ahead.

Main Course: What kind of lotion or cream do you use to keep your hands from getting too dry?

What ever is handy.

Dessert: Make up a dessert, tell us its ingredients, and give it a name.

Hummingbird pie. Two scoops French Vanilla ice cream on a graham cracker bed. Top with Calluah. I have no idea how it would taste, but it sounds decadent.

Love

All beddian years are even. This is the beddian year for people born in 1954 and 2004. I won’t experience mine for a few more years.

It doesn’t matter whether he knows what he serves:

Who serves best doesn’t always understand.

—Czeslaw Milosz

Little things can touch people’s lives. This story of a beautiful (but simple) tribute made me a little misty.

NYC firefighter Bobbie Beddia spoke with artist Rhonda Shearer. He told her that he was very lucky because he was the same age as his birth year, 53. He said it was a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. Shearer thought it was a unique and clever observation. She suggested that he get with a mathematician to work out a proof. Unfortunately, he was killed fighting a fire later that afternoon.

A friend hers, physicist Richard Brandt, pointed out that the coincidence of birth year and age can only happen in even years. If you were born in an odd numbered year (say 1975), the sum of the two odd numbers (75+75) is an even number (2050). Suna and I will share this joyous year in 2016.

She contacted a freelance math writer Barry Cipra, who wrote a paper on what he dubbed the Beddian Year. He even and devised a formula to determine which population was larger: those who had attained their Beddian Year or those who had not. It’s not as simple as it sounds. People of different ages share the same Beddian Year. For example, this year is the Beddian Year for people who were born in 1956 and in 2004. There are probably more, but I’m not that good at math. (I lifted these years straight from the article.)

See how good things spread. I never met any of the people in this story, but the way they worked together to honor a friend really made my day. Do something nice for someone. The ripples spread across the pond.

References

• Doubletounged.org (19 February 2008). "Biddian year." Available: http://www.doubletongued.org/index.php/citations/beddian_year_1/
• Widdiecombe, Lizzie (12 November 2007). "A firefighter’s theorem." The New Yorker. Available: http://www.newyorker.com/talk/2007/11/12/071112ta_talk_widdicombe

Children of the Night

The source of today’s lyrics and one of the best albums of all time. Photo source: Amazon.com

Sure must be fun to watch a President run

Just ask the man who owns one

—John Kay

I recently participated in a survey of registered voters who plan to vote in the Republican Primary. Since that is my current plan, I answered in the affirmative. It was a fairly stilted survey. The questions were not as poorly written as some. There was nothing like, “Would you rather be safe by giving up all your rights under the Constitution or help the terrorists rape your family and farm animals while you watch?”

Some of the questions were:

Who do you plan to vote for: Ron Paul, John McCain, or Mike Huckabee?

I pressed 1 for Paul. As my mom used to say, “As often as this country gets screwed, we need a gynecologist in Washington.” He’s a good man. My family has known him all my life. But I still wouldn’t really vote for him. He’s just a little too whack for me.

What is more important to you: the economy or the war on terrorism?

Duh! If the economy goes to hell, we can't afford a war on terrorism—as if we needed one. It’s always the economy, stupid.

Only after the survey was over was I informed that the poll was paid for by the McCain organization. I wonder if I would have had the opportunity to answer the other two questions if I had not pressed 1 to say I was going to vote in the Republican primary. Probably not. I wouldn't have mattered then.

That was a little over a week ago. Today, McCain all but has the Republican nomination in hand. The pundits say that if Huckabee wants to be VP, he should bow out of the race sooner, rather than later. But I don’t think he wants to be VP, Romney wants that job. No, Huckabee wants to drive the party platform to the right. So, I apparently don’t need to vote Republican to get my least-evil choice.

But I still don’t really care for either of the remaining Democratic contenders. They both cancel each other out.

And last night, Obama won his ninth straight primary, and the pundits are starting to talk as if he has already been anointed. So, I still don’t know who to vote for in March. Oh, well, it won’t be the first time I’ve made up my mind while looking at the ballot.

Maybe I will vote per the bumper sticker I saw the other day. “Cthulu for President: Why choose the lesser evil?” Probably not.

Pet Rock Laser

Beccano shows off his pet laser.

What you don’t know about, don’t knock

I’m in love with my pet rock

… [He] don’t wanna be a big rock star

—[I don’t remember]

Yesterday, Suna and I went to the local HEB to pick up a prescription that they had not been able to fill on Friday for spurious reasons. They apologized for the error, but didn't cover the additional deductible that the oversight caused. When we got home, Suna went to bed and I started working in the back yard, which is sorely in need of some effort after a winter of neglect.

When I took a break, Beccano brought me the bag in which the prescription had been packaged. “What does this mean?” he asked pointing to the 36 point type on the bag.

I had to plead ignorance. The bag proclaimed, “Changing your toothbrush every three months can help win the fight against…

“…DIABETES.”

The line break, the larger font, and the bold face were all on the bag.

I handed it back to Beccano and he laughed. “I mean, can you catch diabetes from your toothbrush?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” I shrugged.

“That makes me lawls,” he said and danced off to show Suna the bag.

Grateful Monday

So that brings me to today’s Grateful Monday. I am so grateful to have Beccano as a friend who makes me lawls—that is an extended string of LOLs. He is polite, funny, helpful, and eager to learn.

Last night after dinner, I decided to get some CDs out of a multi-disk player that quit working again. The tray was hopelessly stuck. Beccano and I took to the shop and spent a good half-hour dissecting it, playing with the gears, and identifying the components we could. He kept the “pet laser—that’s better than a pet rock.”