Blake's 7 You Tube Experiment

 

 

This is (essentially) a test of embedding a YouTube video, as I'd like to feature some videos of the family [oh, can't you wait?]

However, a little background on the clip: Blake's 7 was a late '70's BBC science fiction show that featured a gang of 7 escaped criminals (political prisoners, thieves, smugglers) who fought the evil Federation. Their leader was the idealistic Blake; another centerpiece of the show was the sociopath Avon.

After the second season the actor playing Blake left, his character officially missing in the context of the show. Avon took over and much of the next two years had the underlying goal of locating and reuniting with Blake.

This is the last few minutes of the show's final episode, in which Avon has finally found Blake - but believes him to be a traitor. .

[When I was ten or twelve I talked my folks into letting me watch the Super Bowl and getting the living room to myself, when in reality it was to watch this very episode broadcast on the local PBS station.

 If memory serves, the Bills lost that SuperBowl.]

Broadcast on a December night it lead to several Christmas suicides, from what I understand

They certainly turned the tables on the conventional 'happy ending' . .

St. Nick's 2006

December 6th brought St. Nick to our house again. Bear in mind these pics were taken at around 7 in the morning, and we all look horrible. [Check out the family portrait on the wall btw - it's a beaut]

Both my parents and Lisa's Dad contributed material to the stockings, including these jump ropes. We got them the electric toothbrushes of their favorite characters; the character bandages from their Grandpa were a great hit, although they quickly became attached to everything in the house.

The girls also received the Belle and Little Mermaid ornaments they wanted in Disney World. Ain't it grand how St. Nick is so psychic?

Here's Parker Bear with his gifts

And dang that di-di in Lu's mouth - but we crunched that soon enough . . .

Just some random pics

 Lisa and the girls

Parker and YaYa

 

Book Review - The Rising Tide

 

The Rising Tide by Jeff Shaara

Ballantine Books

672 pages, $27.95

ISBN 0-345-46141-X

 

As a writer of historical fiction Jeff Shaara has earned the right to avoid the inevitable comparisons with his father Michael, author of the Pulitzer Prize winning classic The Killer Angels.

 

With works on the American Revolution, the War with Mexico, and his Civil War novels Gods and Generals and The Last Full Measure, the younger Shaara has long proven himself a capable and talented writer, albeit one blessed (or cursed) with a famous name.

 

The Rising Tide is his first foray into the era of WWII, and the initial volume of a projected trilogy on the European war.

 

The book opens with the battle for North Africa between the British and the brilliant Erwin Rommel, continues with the American invasion of the continent, and traces the Allied efforts through the battle for Sicily and Italy, ending during the buildup for the Normandy invasion.

 

Throughout the action the novel takes the point of view of different historical figures, ranging from Rommel to Dwight Eisenhower and George Patton, a technique that's become a Shaara staple.

 

Ordinarily that device brings the reader closer to the action, wrapping them in the thoughts and actions that defined the battlefield. It also helps overcome any gaps in the reader's knowledge of history, something that worked wonders in his earlier books.

 

It doesn't work as well here, perhaps because we are far more familiar with the players of WWII then we are those from the War with Mexico - Patton, after all, is not Winfield Scott. At times the recreation of these personalities becomes almost tedious and unnecessary.

 

Patton is aggressive and flamboyant, Rommel a genius handcuffed by his superiors in Berlin, Montgomery is cautious and pompous, and Eisenhower a born diplomat.  None of that is news to anyone remotely familiar with the era and these people, and add little significance to the story itself.

 

It is only when occupying the world of minor characters such as Pvt. Jack Logan, a tank gunner, and Sgt. Jesse Adams, a paratrooper, that we are emotionally vested in the story. It's also the area of the book where the beauty and potential of Shaara's writing shines the most, when we can forget the history lesson and experience the horror and fear of the battlefield ourselves.

 

Primarily an American tale, Shaara can be forgiven for excluding the point of view of an everyday German soldier, a civilian, or anyone on the raging Eastern Front. Even so, the inclusion of those points of view might have helped flesh out a story that somehow, against the odds, comes off a bit predictable.

 

          The Rising Tide, at 672 pages, is certainly not a small novel, in size or scope. And overall the novel achieves its intention, dropping us firmly into the middle of some of the 20th century's greatest personalities as they fought the most devastating war of all time. It is a well done book, detailed enough for the history buff, simplistic enough for the casual reader.

 

          If this book is any guide, the remaining volumes of this trilogy will be worth the wait.     

            

The Billy Saga

Later that (sledding) day, I noticed something.

Or rather the lack of something.

I hadn't seen Billy, our 20+ pound gray and white cat of nine years, all day.

He usually keeps to himself, but you stumble across him beneath Parker's crib, or getting some food for himself, or just ambling around.

I racked my brain, and couldn't picture him at all that day.

As is usually the case, I went paranoid. We tore the house apart, with Lisa humoring my anxiety. By the end of the search however, she knew the truth: he was gone.

We immediately printed up some reward flyers and Lis set off to the houses in the neighborhood. I called my folks to have someone watch the kids while I joined the search, but jumped the gun and headed outside.

Remember, there was a foot of snow on the ground,and the temperature was not very pleasant.

I called Billy's name over and over, but I had no real hope. Best case scenario, he'd been scooped up by another family who would be loathe to return him; worst case . . well, you can imagine.

Then I heard a familiar meow.

I couldn't track it down exactly, but it seemed to be coming from a large bush in front of the neighbor's house.

"Lisa!" I yelled down the block.

I didn't have any proof - heck, he only answered my call that one time and then clammed up - but my gut said he was in there.

We had to carve our way through a foot of snow that had literally buried the bush, then comb through the evergreen branches. And there, cold and docile, was our Billy!

Thank God! We were so happy we were near tears! 

We took him inside and did our best to warm him up. From the evidence - the last time we saw him, the amount of snow firmly packed around the bush, his condition - he must have run out while Lisa was shoveling out her car early Friday. He'd been outside on his own for as much as 36 hours.

Other than a limp, he recovered all right. He was much more social for a bit afterwards - possibly in response to our outpouring of love and affection with our joy at finding him - sleeping curled up with YaYa in her bed, approaching us for petting,etc.

[Of course, now yours truly has a paranoid fear of losing the cats, routinely shaking them out of their sleep whenever I don't see them for a bit]

However, his attitude towards Angel Cakes took a drastic turn. He growled and hissed at her - famously forbidding her to even cross the threshold of YaYa's room when he was with her - and banishing her! to a spot atop the toilet tank.

Now things are back to normal, but I wonder: Did he just react to protect a territory he had newfound love and respect for? Or in Cat Land did she do something vile and wicked to drive him out (she did seem very nonchalant in his absence)? I wouldn't put it past the floozy ;)

Anyhow, they are back to being a feline couple

And a beautiful one at that. Makes me wish Billy wasn't fixed.

We're glad to have him back.

Aggravation

Not truly worth a post, but . . .

Today I bought some crickets as a snack for Franklin the Turtle.

This time half of them got wise to the game and managed to secure a temporary refuge atop a plant in the aquarium.

So now, at midnight, I am serenaded indoors by the sound of some very scared and energetic crickets.

Part of me thinks it's neat, very Country . . a larger part of me thinks Lis is going to kick my a** when these things keep her or the kids up all night lol

Sledding in Pulaski Park

Every year we take the kids sledding, and I'm sure I've posted pics of it here before. Even so a quick scan of the site found only this.

A week ago last Friday Milwaukee was buried under a foot of snow. School was cancelled for the first time in 9 years, and it was pretty nasty. Lis got stuck and had to dig her way out for nearly a half hour, and my Dad got stuck in the parking lot entrance at work - with half his car hanging out in a major city street.

That night YaYa had a sleepover with her friend Sophia. They watched Polar Express (not half as bad as I remembered - pretty good, minus the gratuitous hot chocolate song) and in the morning we took them and the family to Pulaski Park to go sledding.

We started off on the 'small' hills to the east of the monster hill.

Now, I was definitely NOT in favor of sending our 21 month old down the hill by his lonesome, but  . .

After a few trial runs with Lis on board, he went solo:

By the end of that trip (and several others) he was cold, wet, had a face covered in dripping snot - and wouldn't stop gesturing and grunting to go again and again.

Here's some individual shots. I love YaYa's hat, which she's had for years. I'm going to retire it to my future museum someday:

The worst part about sledding (aside from the risk of personal injury, the loss of personal property such as keys/phones, and the mind numbing fear of both of these things) is climbing back up the dang hill.

It's no secret this isn't my favorite activity, but it isn't like I haven't done it every dang year for the last, oh, three decades or so. So obviously I'm both capable and unafraid of it; I just don't dig it that much. I try to NOT get cold and wet most days; why volunteer for it ?

My goal now is to do it just long enough for all the kids to have memories of me sledding with them. After that, I'm just a spectator, least til the Grandkids come around.

Here's my post-sledding view (and Lis didn't even have to force me!)

Here's Park again

At the tail end of the excursion YaYa wanted to go down the big hill, which in my youth we called Suicide Hill.

It's been largely tamed now; the trees surrounding it have been cut back or removed, the grade has been flattened somewhat, and most of the  'bumps'  have been removed, but it's still pretty imposing.

She's up on the hilltop; this is the top half of the hill

and the bottom

She's the lavender speck in these pictures:

She and Sophia went down together at one point

and Lis took Lu down with her; brave little girls. Here's some pics of an exhausted YaYa, with snow pants coming undone lol:

A pretty good time and a beautiful use for the snow!

The Christmas Shot we Picked

Hmm. . . not sure why the previous post has now messed up the size of the page, given that the exact same content was present (with no problem) all day. I hit 'edit', then changed my mind and discarded the changes. Oila (sp?), a messed up looking page, when theoretically it should be a carbon copy of what was there all along. Even the 'change' should not have altered the page size, but whatever. 

Guess I'll have to wait until I post 10 more things before it's bumped off the main page and all returns to normal.

If you want to look at an entry and have it be somewhat 'normal' in appearance, just click on 'link to this entry' at the bottom of the individual post. That'll bring it up in it's own window, looking just dandy.

Here, by the way, is a modified version of the pic we sent out in our Xmas cards this year.

Christmas Pics

Recently we had our kids pictures taken at DeLaura's Photography, a new outfit owned and operated by Lisa's cousin. Take a gander at the portfolio she includes on her site, I think you'll enjoy her work.

Here's two shots we DIDN'T pick for inclusion in our Christmas Cards. The winner has our name across the bottom; thus I didn't include it here.

 

Misc Boring Schtuff

Well, I didn't gain 10 pounds on the trip.

I gained sixteen.

Yikes.

Other than that - oh, and the paralyzing distaste for my everyday life as I compare everything to the trip - there were no negatives to the vacation.

The Sunday after we got back I took YaYa to see Pirates of the Caribbean II at the local second run theater. A little old for her, obviously, but she's become obsessed with pirates. She talked a little during the show, just essential questions about the action, and she came away loving pirates (and Jack Sparrow) all the more.

Often heard around my house nowadays:

"Yo Ho Yo Ho"

answered by:

 "A pirate's life for me!"

And we've determined the pecking order on our Pirate ship. I'm the Captain, natch, Lis is the Navigator, Lu is the Gunnery Mate ("Gun nee May"), YaYa is the Pilot, and Parker is the lowly deck-hand.

That started a string of Sunday excursions with YaYa. The next week it was she and I at 3 or 4 stores and a baptism, and this past Sunday she went out with her Mom.

The day of the baptism we also watched Irwin Allen's Alice in Wonderland, which YaYa loved, save for the Jabberwocky that scared her to death. [Lu, btw, was overnight at Grandma's that weekend]

The next weekend both girls watched the 1981 version of Annie, which I grudginly loved as a kid. The girls are used to the late '90's Disney version, but quickly grew fond of my fave.

I also spent a lovely afternoon with Lu going to different libraries and some stores. She's a doll.

* *  *                     

Have I ever mentioned that Lu has a paralyzing fear of rewinding a videotape? It's true - just mention the word 'rewind' and she freaks. I have no idea what her little mind thinks it means, but it's right up there with the JabberWocky.

* * *                

As I write this YaYa is fighting going to sleep and I'm at my wit's end and increasingly angry, but usually Monday nights are very relaxing for me.

At 5:15 Lis and the girls leave for dance class. At 7 I go and pick up the girls with Parker, switching cars and then putting all the kids to bed while Lis goes to her class. By this time I've usually - usually - had a good hour or 90 minutes alone to do whatever. I look forward to it.

* * *
Nothing annoys me - nay, disgusts me - more than the richy rich folks in the Lexus Holiday Event commercials.

 Not that I'm anything close to a Socialist, and folks are entitled to spend their money on anything from foodstuffs to million dollar paintings, but . . .

hmmm, in the spirit of, oh, Christmas, how 'bout you forego the $50,000 gift you're rubbing in your neighbor's face and use just a smidge of that money to make the world a better place.

Or not, you obnoxious ****.

* * *            

On Wednesday the Falk Corporation here in Milwaukee suffered an explosion that killed three workers. The force of the blast could be felt as far away as Oak Creek, and at the time I was driving within 12 blocks of it (we live close by).

I didn't feel a thing.

How's this for an (unintenional) joke in bad taste:

I told my landlord "I don't know how I didn't feel it. I guess I'm so used to my shit*y shocks I just assumed the road got bumpy"

* * *

Six Feet Under on Bravo - the show has become a ritual in this house on Monday's. Not as enjoyable for me as Dead Like Me, but a great show even so.          

* * *         

On November 7th, 5 weeks ago tomorrow, I had my last cigarette. Sure, I advertised that I quit month's back. But I reached the 5 week mark, caved and returned to form.

Unlike that time I haven't so much as held a cig in those five weeks, much less dragged or bummed off someone else.

Not to say I don't miss it - 'tis a lovely/stinky/life stealing/expensive habit - but I hope/pray I have the strength to keep going.

 I'm sure it hasn't helped in that sixteen pounds category either . .