Saying Cheese

About once a day Emily will say something that I will turn over and over in my head.

Approximately a month ago we were lying in bed reading on a weeknight. Emily asked if I was going to invite our dog Poncho to sleep in the bed, as I am wont to do. I said I would when I finished the chapter in the book I was reading. It was quiet for like ten seconds and then she said, "You know Poncho's life is pretty short. It's important we make him as happy as we can."

I thought it was a nice thought. Both for Poncho and for us.

The Concert Starts... Tomorrow

Adding to the inconsistency that makes up Easter, tomorrow night I am going to see Steve Earle at First Avenue. I'm going with Emily's uncle and a few of his friends. Since I've lived here, I haven't missed a Steve Earle in Minneapolis show yet (or at least to my knowledge). But I almost missed this one. It was Emily's uncle who told me about the show and his friend who bought me a ticket. Phew. This is why it pays to have friends who are cooler than you are!

He's touring after putting out The Revolution Starts... Now, required cathartic listening for anyone still smarting from Bush's re-election. If you can listen to that album while reading a Jim Hightower book, it is possible to feel optomistic about the power of the people, and even an individual, to change the direction of this country.

A preview of tomorrow night's show from the Minneapolis Star-Tribune.

When he won a Grammy last month for best contemporary folk album for his relentlessly political "The Revolution Starts ... Now," Earle was resolute about espousing his leftist beliefs and making his gigs be "Commiseration Grand Central" for people disillusioned by the presidential election. "I know why I'm out there singing every night more than I have at any other time in my life," he said. "If I'm not [angering] the New York Post and Fox News, I'm not doing my job." Moorer's voice is prettier but no less fearless as she sings about life's misfortunes. She'll also sing backup for Earle, who is her new beau.

Easter

A rabbit brings you a basket full of eggs full of candy instead of a baby chick. But you can also find baby marshmallow chicks in your basket, just not in the eggs. You have ham for brunch.

And somehow all this is associated with the son of God being beaten and nailed to a cross.

Easter has always struck me as a very weird holiday, and it has never resonated with me. I think it's because as a kid, I could never find any consistency in it. Or any purpose. We were told it was a very solemn day, and at the same time we ate shitloads of candy and hunted around the house for eggs. It was all too disconnected for me.



Image from www.runnerduck.com


As a kid, we used to make an Easter egg tree, modeled after a Christmas tree. The big difference being that the "tree" for the Easter egg tree was a big branch my sisters and I hunted for in the back yard or elsewhere in the neighborhood. Then we put the branch in a coffee can full of dirt. The ornaments were hollowed-out, PAAS decorated Easter eggs.

So I am glad Emily has her Reuben Sandwich Day. That is a holiday I can comprehend, even if no one else really can.

Snoop Clocky Clock

This post probably is more appropriate for Robot Alert. MIT's media lab has invented "Clocky," an alarm clock that rolls off your nightstand and hides when you hit snooze. When the alarm goes off again, you have to go find it. Apparently it can find a different hiding spot each day.

Thankfully, the promise of the newspaper on our stoop and an occasional cup of coffee is all I need to get out of bed. I'd get one for Emily, but she'd take the glock to Clocky the first time it hid from her.

Click here to see more on Clocky.

It doesn't seem that far removed from the robot armadillo my dad for my class in sixth grade, but no one reading this will get that reference except for the guy over at Robot Alert, or my dad.

My Twenty Two Cents

None of these thougts will be particularly original, but I have to get a few things about the whole Terri Schiavo mess off my chest. First of all, may the Christian conservatives and politicians who, uh, politicized this affair rot in hell. No one has the authority to pass judgment on Terri Schiavo's parents or husband. But now this very personal story that belongs to a family is surrounded by people with life size crucifixes and the federal judges in robes. Shame on everyone involved, even me for addressing the topic.

But, in my defense, my wrath is mostly geared for George Bush. All hail King Hypocrite.

How do I think thee a hypocrite? Let me count the ways.

Let's start with his quote from yesterday in Tuscon, when he applauded congress' bizarre, possibly unconstitutional law that this case be turned over to the federal courts.

This is a complex case with serious issues, but in extraordinary circumstances like this, it is wisest to always err on the side of life.

Really? So this applies to one person in Florida but not the 17,000+ civilians killed in Iraq from Bush's rush to war two years ago (source: www.iraqbodycount.com). Or the 1500+ US troops who have died over there.

It also doesn't apply to the 152 inmates killed on his watch, if not in his haste, while he was governor of Texas. He vetoed a law, as governor, that would have provided funding for basic indigent defense. Bush also opposed legislation banning the execution of people with IQ's less than 65. And have you read this story?. If not, read it. And try and tell me how he has ever "err(ed) on the side of caution" with any of the 152 people that were executed with his approval.

And then there is the whole ridiculous bit about state's rights and small, non-intervening governments that Republicans like Bush claim to endorse.

And, lastly, there is this gem, the 1999 Advance Directive's Act that Bush signed into law as governor of Texas. What was that footwear reference the GOP loved to slap on Kerry? Sandal? Teva? I forget.

How Terri Schiavo's life ends is none of my business. Professional sports and reality TV is a much healthier way to get emotional about the lives of complete strangers. But I do take exception to how her family is being exploited and judged by people of all politcal persuasions. And I also think George Bush is too much of a hypocrite to be thought of as a straight-talking Texan.

So I'd rather close with a few lines from a true-to-life straight talking Texan, Ray Wylie Hubbard, from his song "Conversation with the Devil."

He said, "Come on over here son, let me show you around
Over there's where we put the preachers, I never liked those clowns
They're always blaming me for everything wrong under the sun
It aint harder to what's right, it's just maybe not as much fun
Then the walk around thinking they're better than me and you
Then they get caught in a motel room doing what they said not to do.

Now the murderers and the rapists they go in this firey lake
As well as most of the politician and the cops on the take
And all the mothers that wait to get to KMart to spank their kids
Instead of showing what to do what's right, they just hit 'em for what they did
And all the daddy's who run off and abandon their daughters and sons
Oh anybody that hurts a child is gonna burn until it's done."

"Everybody is down here," I said, "Who's up in Heaven with God and the Son?"
"Oh some saints and mystics and students of metaphysics 101
People who care and share and love and try to do what's right
Beautiful old souls who read a little stories to their babies every night
What you won't find up in Heaven are Christian Coalition Right Wing Conservatives,
Country program directors, and Nashville record executives."

March Madness

I know it's old news, but did anyone miss the shooting-from-the-ass shot from the Minnesota state finals for boys' basketball?

I have been thinking about it a lot and I would argue that it is the greatest shot EVER made in basketball. Think of the context of the whole play. It may not be the most amazing shot, but it's the greatest because even Hollywood wouldn't expect us to believe a shot like that could happen. If some director choreographed that play for the end of a Disney movie we'd all be rolling our eyes saying, "Yeah right, like taht would ever happen in real life."

The frustrating thing is my sister was visiting from Texas and we were watching the NCAA Tourney (Go Red Raiders!). I didn't think she'd want to be bored by watching Minnesota high school sports. On a few occasions I was tempted to switch over to the Hopkins/Eastview game but changed my mind. Damn! If I just done it once, we would have seen how close the game was and we would have seen the shot.

Maybe next time.

Oh yeah, a play like that in a championship game happens only once in a lifetime.

"I Want That Wolf Out of Here!"

This is perhaps the greatest line ever shouted by a referee.

The Spurs mascot, The Coyote, was ejected from last Wednesday's Spurs/Timberwolves game for his shadow boxing routine when Bruce Bowen and Wally Sczerbiak started jawing after a hard foul by Sczerbiak. The ref felt the mascot was too close to the action and tossed the Coyote from the game.

The fact that a ref can't tell a wolf from a coyote doesn't do much to break down the stereotype that refs are blind.

Click here for the story. It's pretty funny.

Grumpy Old Men

I just posted about a refelctive running vest I wear in the dark. Well, I've got more to say about that damn thing. Who knew?

My teammate from college (we'll call him The Klassmaster), and I are training for a marathon in mid-May. He lives in another city so we check in every week or so to make sure we're both training. Fortunately, he has been slacking as much as I have.

Anyway The Klassmaster was in town about a month ago and we went for a run. We hadn't run together since college, I think. And as you can imagine, back then, we were typical obnoxious 20 year-old fuckos who thought pretty highly of ourselves. So we would mock things like running clubs (that shit was for blue-haired, casual joggers), people who dressed warmly in cold weather (sissies), and pretty much anything else that didn't involve running shirtless and has hard as you can, no matter the distance or the weather.

Times have changed.

The weather mid 20s when The Klassmaster visited, and fearing he may catch a cold, Sir-Klass-A-Lot had on four layers of clothing, a scarf, and some gator thingy that covered every inch of his face, leaving slits for his eyes. Oh, and a knit hat.

I had a field day mocking him for being an overall pansie. Two six year-old girls walked in front of my house and I pointed out that they had less gear on than he did.

Of course, I forgot the whole thing about stones and glass houses, because just as we were leaving I put on my reflective vest, and Klassy just started cracking up. "What the fuck is that thing? You going to direct some traffic during our run?"

So we both had to admit that we had become what we used to mock. A couple of slower-than-Christmas joggers who belong to running clubs and now respect the value of safety when facing weather and traffic.

Pretty pathetic.

There is some irony attached to my refelctive vest, by the way. The first night I wore it I was running by the University of Minnesota when a Ford Escort slowed down and three snowballs whizzed right by me and one grazed my leg. As the Escort sped past me, I could see it had four guys in it, most with baseball hats on backwards. If that wasn't your prototypical car full of meatheaded college freshmen, I don't what is. Either way, I had to laugh. I'm sure they were thinking, "Nail the old dude with the gay vest on!!" or whatever it is those crazy college kids are saying these days.

The irony being of course that those guys would never had seen me, and I wouldn't have been put in danger, if it wasn't for that freaking safety vest.

Yellow Lights Rock!!!

A few weeks ago I was getting ready to go for a run after work. In homage to Johnny Cash, 90% of my running attire is black. Well, it probably has more to do with the silver and black of the San Antonio Spurs, but I digress.

I have black windpants, black lycra, a black hat, black running jackets, and I go running with my black dog who has a black leash and a black collar. I'm shitting you negative. This is no exaggeration and did not happened conciously. I gravitate towards the color black.

It was getting so dark so very early a few weeks back that nobody could see me or my dog when I went running. It became so bad that I'd scare people. Or other people walking their dogs, might see me, but would not realize I also had a dog.

So I gave in and bought a refelctive vest to put over my clothes. As I was putting it on and Poncho had on his reflective collar that I had just bought for him, Emily walked in and said, "You're wearing your vest! Yay! I love safety!!"

Can't say I've never thought of the concept of safety in those terms before. Emily will say little things like that from time to time and they really stay with me.

"I'm Not From Here

I just live here."

First person not named Justin to identify the author of that quote gets a prize.

For everyone else who lives here, visit Minnesota Republican Watch to follow the actions of the Minnesota GOP machine. The link was sent to me by another Minnesotan who's not from here, but lives here. We are a rare species.

Minnesota Republican Watch is preaching to the choir, but it keeps me informed of all the scary shit the Minnesota GOP is up to. Between the king making of Mark Kennedy and Michele Bachmann's evangelical nuttiness, Minnesota's politics is looking more and more like Texas' everyday.

As shitfy characters like Norm Coleman, Bachmann, Pat Awada, Ron Ebensteiner, and Kennedy grow more and more powerful, Paul Wellstone's death becomes harder and harder to accept. And I thought time was supposed to heal all wounds.

Anyway, click here for the link.

Cross Marketing

I think hardware stores should cross market with marriage counselors.

WEEKEND SPECIAL!!
SATURDAY AND SUNDAY ONLY AT HOME DEPOT

Get 25% Off Your First Counseling Session at 'Repair-the-Knot' with a purchase of any home improvement products having to do with making holes, fixing walls, using drills, working on floors, plumbing, or electrcity!!

I am about to try for the first time to skim coat the office walls. I have little to no idea what to do beyond what the competent guy at the hardware store told me to do. Emily is safely out of the house. I know she wants first crack at this job, but very diplomatically allowed me to do it.

Wish me luck. You can join Emily and cross your fingers if you want to.