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Monday, August 24, 2009
Quote of the Day
It's been a fun weekend. You wouldn't think so. I worked both days, I cut the grass, and Lisa and I tackled cleaning the fridge. But I repeat: it was still enjoyable. A large part of that was going AWOL from the computer. I scanned Facebook once in a blue moon, but never for more than a few minutes, and I didn't check my email at all.
Ahhhh. Peace.
It won't last. At Lisa's request, I'm going to briefly return to politics in the next few days and spell out my objections to nationalized health care. That should be fun, dontcha think?
Anyhow, I took the kids to church this weekend, the first Mass that was celebrated by a new priest at the congregation where I was married. During the Mass Smiley fidgeted, asked me questions at full volume, and did his best to drive me batty. Then, the kicker.
During the homily he looked over at me with mischief in his eyes, smiled his Danny/Devil smile, and tossed a missalette into the pew in front of us. I was on him in a nanosecond, and in response he explained himself using an 'outside voice' that could have been heard on the moon.
"JESUS BORING!"
Ugh. Sometimes kids are . . . well, sometimes they're just as frustrating as dealing with grown-ups.
Ahhhh. Peace.
It won't last. At Lisa's request, I'm going to briefly return to politics in the next few days and spell out my objections to nationalized health care. That should be fun, dontcha think?
Anyhow, I took the kids to church this weekend, the first Mass that was celebrated by a new priest at the congregation where I was married. During the Mass Smiley fidgeted, asked me questions at full volume, and did his best to drive me batty. Then, the kicker.
During the homily he looked over at me with mischief in his eyes, smiled his Danny/Devil smile, and tossed a missalette into the pew in front of us. I was on him in a nanosecond, and in response he explained himself using an 'outside voice' that could have been heard on the moon.
"JESUS BORING!"
Ugh. Sometimes kids are . . . well, sometimes they're just as frustrating as dealing with grown-ups.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Project Runway is Back! And (not) better than ever!
I worked last night but returned home to a heapin' helpin' of Project Runway on my DVR. The verdict? Well, I won't say they've jumped the shark, but I wasn't bowled over by this season's premiere.
"Welcome designers to FIDM, the premier fashion design school . . . in the city."
I caught your jab Mr. Gunn, and I'm with ya. It's a New York show. It just is. Moving it to L.A. makes it seem all the more artificial and forced, and Tim seems especially off-put.
Anyhow, it's a little early to write it off as a lame duck, and far too early to waste much time breaking down the contestants individually. I will say comment on a few of them that played major roles this week.
JOHNNY: Here's a new drinking game, one exclusive to PR. Every time this guy mentions his past addictions, uses it as an excuse to cry like a girl, or says a prayer to Crystal Meth for all the camera time it earns him, chug one down. I'm aware the judges claim to love his ill-fitting, droopy dress, but if they were serious it just means they were sharing the pipe too.
SHIRIN: I'm not even sure I have the right designer, but I *think* Shirin came up with that jacket that flipped down to integrate itself seamlessly with the back of the dress. Nice.
MALVIN: Hmmm. An egotistical adrogonyous designer with zero personality and ho-hum skills. Yuck.
ARI: Her design was crap. She was a flake. She had not a chance in hell of making it to Bryant Park. But I liked her as a contestant and would have enjoyed watching her for a bit more of the season. It's a shame she was sent packing so soon.
MITCHELL: Ladies and gentlemen, I think we have our villian. He presented an unwearable nightgowny piece and blamed it all on the model, saying her measurements differed from her card by five or six inches (depending on when in the program he was asked.) Dude. She's the size of my wrist. There aren't a spare six inches, or four, or two on the woman. If there was a difference, it was not what you advertise it to be, and frankly: even if it was, DEAL. He should have gone bye-bye.
* * * *
Now as for the show after it, "Model Runway", I'll pass. It was nothing more than a waste of my time and offered no insight into the design process. And darlin', can the "I have beauty and brains" bit: you are paid to be tall, and to be skinny. No shame in it, but kindly don't make it out to be rocket science.
Gone Tomorrow by Lee Child
Gone Tomorrow by Lee Child
Publisher: Dell Publishing
Pub. Date: May 19, 2009
ISBN-13: 9780385340571
432pp
British born author Lee Child has enjoyed great success in recent years, allegedly selling a book every second. Child has a natural ability to pen a solid thriller, but make no mistake, his popularity rides squarely on the shoulders of his creation Jack Reacher, an ex-U.S. Army MP turned itinerant traveler and magnet for trouble.
Reacher is well versed in any number of intellectual disciplines, capable of detailed analysis in the blink of an eye, tough enough to put Rambo to shame, enjoys an unhealthy habit of latching onto trouble at the slightest provocation, and possesses a smug certainty in his own abilities.
Frankly, there are times in the series when Reacher is so cookie-cutter perfect you are left (guiltily) hoping that someone - good, bad, or otherwise - finally manages to take him down a notch. Thankfully Gone Tomorrow, the thirteenth and latest installment in the series, is a thriller with enough energy and intelligence to keep those thoughts at bay.
As the book opens, Reacher is the last person to speak to a woman before she abruptly commits suicide aboard a subway car. When it becomes known that she was smuggling sensitive information, info of interest to both a candidate for the Senate and a foreign national, Reacher erroneously becomes the center of attention for both parties. He must sort out friend from foe and not only recover the information, but determine whether its destruction - or release - best serves the nation's interest.
Gone Tomorrow is a revival of first person narrative in the series, and more importantly the welcome return of a definitive 'bad guy' to face down Reacher. A character as iconic and seemingly invincible as Reacher works best when confronted with a strong antagonist, such as Tripwire's delightfully evil Hook Hobie. There's no one in this novel as physically sinister as Hobie, but once the story develops there's no mistaking who's the bad guy and who is not. That itself is a welcome change from Child's recent novels, where he spent nearly as much time vilifying Bush's policies as he did lining up opponents for Reacher.
The plot is solid and easily holds your interest, progressing with such ease that the reader is left pleasantly surprised at how quickly the problem has multiplied. True, the main thrust of the action is the same fodder you'll find in dozens of cheap paperbacks, but Child finesses it with a fine degree of skill that elevates it to something much more.
Child's been quoted as saying (hopefully in jest) that he'll eventually kill off Reacher in a way that leaves no doubt that his famous character is finished once and for all.
If Gone Tomorrow is any indication of the way the series is going, readers will be left hoping that finale is a long way off.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Just a bunch of random junk. And corn dogs.
Less then 24 hours until the new season of Project Runway starts people! Set your DVR's now!
* * * * *
Regarding my Favre post: no, I don't think I was being extreme at all. I don't want the man to literally taste the fires of hell, but he can suck a** if he expects me to think kindly of him. I have respect for what he did on the field for us for more than a decade. But respect for him as a person? Nuh-uh.
Early in the year he says he's done, an outright lie that frees him of his obligation to the Jets. Then he starts his "maybe I'll play" routine. July 28th he retires and says a whole bunch of stuff about how he's done, physically and emotionally.
Then - he alleges - twenty days later the Vikings coach calls him on a whim (on a whim!) and poof! he's a Viking. A man that takes four weeks to decide whether to buy a Snickers or a Milky Way decides on the spot to move his family to Minnesota for six months. He's suited up and on the field within 24 hours.
Gag.
Here's the truth of the matter. He agreed to sign with the Vikings in June or July, (and I'll sell you a bridge if you don't think it's to take a whack at Green Bay.) But signing then meant he'd have to participate in the 2-a-day practices, and that ain't happening.
Soooo . . . he gets special treatment and is allowed to miss that time, but to cover their tracks and preserve the idea that he's not a prima-donna and the coach has control, they play dumb for a month.
As the Journal so eloquently put it: Minnesota, the Ego has landed.
* * * *
My friend Erv is in town and for two nights in a row we've played Halo on his X-Box, and have rescued the captain and are on the hunt. Great game, but I can see why Lisa bans video games from the house. They are addictive and would be a true sore spot in our marriage.
* * * **
I took the baby for her two-year checkup and shots the other day. I remember she weighs 28 pounds, but I forget her height. Anyhow, all is well. They asked me about he appetite and I told them what I wrote on Facebook:
How much can a 20#'er eat? Corn dogs, carrots, a granola bar, some salad, an apple, cereal, waffles . . now she just raided the fridge and brought me a jar of peanut butter and cream cheese. YOU ARE TWO. YOU DO NOT HAVE A TAPEWORM. GO WATCH ELMO. Ugh.
Update: she just walked into the room wearing a bagel on each wrist like they were bracelets.
* * * *
I went to a movie with my cousin Jon, the first time I've seen or spoken to him in more then three years. We were very close friends for a decade. I hope we can regain some of that friendship.
* * * * *
Regarding my Favre post: no, I don't think I was being extreme at all. I don't want the man to literally taste the fires of hell, but he can suck a** if he expects me to think kindly of him. I have respect for what he did on the field for us for more than a decade. But respect for him as a person? Nuh-uh.
Early in the year he says he's done, an outright lie that frees him of his obligation to the Jets. Then he starts his "maybe I'll play" routine. July 28th he retires and says a whole bunch of stuff about how he's done, physically and emotionally.
Then - he alleges - twenty days later the Vikings coach calls him on a whim (on a whim!) and poof! he's a Viking. A man that takes four weeks to decide whether to buy a Snickers or a Milky Way decides on the spot to move his family to Minnesota for six months. He's suited up and on the field within 24 hours.
Gag.
Here's the truth of the matter. He agreed to sign with the Vikings in June or July, (and I'll sell you a bridge if you don't think it's to take a whack at Green Bay.) But signing then meant he'd have to participate in the 2-a-day practices, and that ain't happening.
Soooo . . . he gets special treatment and is allowed to miss that time, but to cover their tracks and preserve the idea that he's not a prima-donna and the coach has control, they play dumb for a month.
As the Journal so eloquently put it: Minnesota, the Ego has landed.
* * * *
My friend Erv is in town and for two nights in a row we've played Halo on his X-Box, and have rescued the captain and are on the hunt. Great game, but I can see why Lisa bans video games from the house. They are addictive and would be a true sore spot in our marriage.
* * * **
I took the baby for her two-year checkup and shots the other day. I remember she weighs 28 pounds, but I forget her height. Anyhow, all is well. They asked me about he appetite and I told them what I wrote on Facebook:
How much can a 20#'er eat? Corn dogs, carrots, a granola bar, some salad, an apple, cereal, waffles . . now she just raided the fridge and brought me a jar of peanut butter and cream cheese. YOU ARE TWO. YOU DO NOT HAVE A TAPEWORM. GO WATCH ELMO. Ugh.
Update: she just walked into the room wearing a bagel on each wrist like they were bracelets.
* * * *
I went to a movie with my cousin Jon, the first time I've seen or spoken to him in more then three years. We were very close friends for a decade. I hope we can regain some of that friendship.
Complete Text of my May 11th column in the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel
When you argue against enacting a statewide smoking ban, you're asking for trouble. Sure, the discussion might remain polite, but in some eyes, you become a tool of tobacco companies, a lout who doesn't care about the welfare of our children or a fool oblivious to the rising cost of health care in this country.
None of those labels apply to me - or to 98% of the people opposed to the idea. I know smoking is bad, I know it's addictive and I know it is deadly. In 1987, I watched my paternal grandfather, a lifelong smoker, die a horrible, lingering death from lung cancer. In response, my parents became very anti-smoking, and just as predictably, I then took up the habit. I quit smoking in 2006, and three years on, I'm still not cocky enough to promise that it's a lifelong achievement.
No, I agree with the ban's medical premise. I have two different objections:
I don't think the state has the right to regulate personal choices in the first place. But if you disagree with me and think the ban is important for the public good, then you must be left puzzled by Madison's logic. Smoking is bad, so bad that the state feels compelled to act against it. So do we ban it outright? Do we prohibit the sale of cigarettes inside the state line? Do we at the very least tax it out of existence, instead of keeping smokers on the hook and looking at the vice tax as plain ol' revenue?
No. Instead, Madison puts forth a plan to ban smoking in public, at places like restaurants and taverns. Their good health thus protected, Wisconsinites will be free to consume their nightly beers and buffalo wings in comfort.
To me, it seems like more of a media stunt than honest lawmaking.
More practically, I object to the timing of the bill. Twenty years ago, this would have had a drastic impact on Wisconsin. Now, why bother? In 2005, as a pack-a-day smoker, I took over as general manager of a hotel. One of the first things I did was to eliminate smoking in public areas and the majority of guest rooms. Why? Because it's the 21st century, and the age of the smoker is at an end. It made no financial sense to cater to a market that had been pushed out of existence.
The majority of Wisconsin businesses already have adapted to the times, law or no law. Those proprietors who still allow smoking aren't being stubborn; they know their clientèle, and they know that banning smoking means running the risk of closing their doors for good.
While I'm certain the legislation will pass on Wednesday, I see no point in a law that the market, on its own, has made largely redundant. And in these economic times, I can't fathom a reason to toy with small business owners struggling to weather the storm.
To me, it makes as much sense as lighting up a cigarette in the first place.
None of those labels apply to me - or to 98% of the people opposed to the idea. I know smoking is bad, I know it's addictive and I know it is deadly. In 1987, I watched my paternal grandfather, a lifelong smoker, die a horrible, lingering death from lung cancer. In response, my parents became very anti-smoking, and just as predictably, I then took up the habit. I quit smoking in 2006, and three years on, I'm still not cocky enough to promise that it's a lifelong achievement.
No, I agree with the ban's medical premise. I have two different objections:
I don't think the state has the right to regulate personal choices in the first place. But if you disagree with me and think the ban is important for the public good, then you must be left puzzled by Madison's logic. Smoking is bad, so bad that the state feels compelled to act against it. So do we ban it outright? Do we prohibit the sale of cigarettes inside the state line? Do we at the very least tax it out of existence, instead of keeping smokers on the hook and looking at the vice tax as plain ol' revenue?
No. Instead, Madison puts forth a plan to ban smoking in public, at places like restaurants and taverns. Their good health thus protected, Wisconsinites will be free to consume their nightly beers and buffalo wings in comfort.
To me, it seems like more of a media stunt than honest lawmaking.
More practically, I object to the timing of the bill. Twenty years ago, this would have had a drastic impact on Wisconsin. Now, why bother? In 2005, as a pack-a-day smoker, I took over as general manager of a hotel. One of the first things I did was to eliminate smoking in public areas and the majority of guest rooms. Why? Because it's the 21st century, and the age of the smoker is at an end. It made no financial sense to cater to a market that had been pushed out of existence.
The majority of Wisconsin businesses already have adapted to the times, law or no law. Those proprietors who still allow smoking aren't being stubborn; they know their clientèle, and they know that banning smoking means running the risk of closing their doors for good.
While I'm certain the legislation will pass on Wednesday, I see no point in a law that the market, on its own, has made largely redundant. And in these economic times, I can't fathom a reason to toy with small business owners struggling to weather the storm.
To me, it makes as much sense as lighting up a cigarette in the first place.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
How Hannah Montana taught us about Ozzy Osbourne
When I'm in the car I play a simple game with the kids. When a song comes on the radio, I ask them the name of the artist, and if it's one they're familiar with, the name of the song too. I figure it's never too early to start their pop culture education.
So the other day I was in the car with YaYa when Crazy Train came on. I asked her the name of the artist, and as expected she didn't know. I answered Ozzy Osbourne, figuring tossing in the name Randy Rhodes was probably too much detail. She asked who he was.
"I think you've seen him before," I said. "You know those World of Warcraft commercials where the guy says he's the prince of darkness?"
"No," she said.
I was stumped for a second.
"Wait," she said. "Isn't that the guy on Hannah Montana?"
"What?" I said. I was confused. "No, he isn't on that show."
"Not, like, him, but the guy Jackson dressed up as that one time?"
Jackson, of course, is Hannah Montana/Miley Stewart's brother on the show, played by 32 (!) year old Jason Earles. And sure enough, it came to me: in an episode where Hannah is trying to avoid a music critic, her brother dresses up as Ozzy to distract him.
And you know what? It was a pretty dead-on imitation.
"Yeah, you're right," I said. "He was pretending to be Ozzy. That's the guy."
"Oh," she said. "He seemed cool. He talked funny though"
There you have it. The tools of education are everywhere, even in a ridiculous skit on a Disney Channel sitcom.
So the other day I was in the car with YaYa when Crazy Train came on. I asked her the name of the artist, and as expected she didn't know. I answered Ozzy Osbourne, figuring tossing in the name Randy Rhodes was probably too much detail. She asked who he was.
"I think you've seen him before," I said. "You know those World of Warcraft commercials where the guy says he's the prince of darkness?"
"No," she said.
I was stumped for a second.
"Wait," she said. "Isn't that the guy on Hannah Montana?"
"What?" I said. I was confused. "No, he isn't on that show."
"Not, like, him, but the guy Jackson dressed up as that one time?"
Jackson, of course, is Hannah Montana/Miley Stewart's brother on the show, played by 32 (!) year old Jason Earles. And sure enough, it came to me: in an episode where Hannah is trying to avoid a music critic, her brother dresses up as Ozzy to distract him.
And you know what? It was a pretty dead-on imitation.
"Yeah, you're right," I said. "He was pretending to be Ozzy. That's the guy."
"Oh," she said. "He seemed cool. He talked funny though"
There you have it. The tools of education are everywhere, even in a ridiculous skit on a Disney Channel sitcom.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
What an Ass
When Gov. Jim Doyle announced his retirement a few days ago, he jokingly promised he wouldn't rescind his decision and pull a "Brett Favre".
What's a 'Favre'? This:
The Journal-Sentinel is reporting that Brett Favre will sign with the Vikings today.
I hope the Packers give #4 to the lowliest of lowly punters, from now until the end of time. May you rot in hell Brett Favre. Rot. In. Hell.
Monday, August 17, 2009
From my Mother In Law
The 3's of Me
You've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with the 3's of YOU. At the end choose some people to be tagged. Be sure to tag me. If I tagged you, its because I am interested in learning more about YOU.
(To do this, go to "notes" under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your 3's of Me, tag 20 people - in the right hand corner of the app then click publish. Or just copy this, paste it, and replace my answers with yours.
Three names I go by:
1. Mom
2.Jeanne
3.Hitler
Three jobs I have had in my life:
1. Tax Auditor
2. Bookkeeper
3. Security Guard
Three places I have lived:
1. Milwaukee, WI
2. Sturgis, MI
3. Greenfield, WI
Three Favorite Drinks
1. Squirt
2. Coffee
3. Ice Tea
Three TV shows I watch:
1.News
2. Mike and Juiliet
3. So you think you can dance
Three places I have been:
1. Salt Lake city, ut
2.Dallas, TX
3. Kansas city Ks
Three People that text me regularly:
1. Danny
2.Lisa
3.??
Three things I want to do:
1. Roller skate at age 70
2. Give money away
3. Be happy and healthy with my family.
Three of my favorite foods:
1. Cheese
2. Pizza
3. Potato Chips
Three friends I think will respond:
1. Elaine
2. Lisa
3. No one
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Our Trip to UWM - pt 3
The university brags that the planetarium shows often sell out, and they encourage you to arrive at least a half hour in advance. Well, after failing to find food we headed over to the science building and waited. And waited. Finally someone showed up to sell tickets, 20 minutes before the show, and we were first in line. But with so much time left I bought the kids some snacks from a vending machine and we headed outside.
Now I don't remember that statue from my years on campus, but of course I could be mistaken. But if I'm right, it's in a sorry state, with chips missing and some of the concrete showing significant wear. Which, as I write this, probably invalidates my memory, no?
Anyhow, the kids held it together.
And YaYa even designed some smiley faces out of stones. Hey, it was a LONG WAIT.
Soon enough it was time for the show.
The professor in charge asked me how I'd learned of the show, and I told her my father had brought me when I was a kid. (I remember listening to Eddie Murphy's Party all the Time and Starship's We Built this City on the way to campus.)
The show itself was nothing to brag about. It was mainly a lecture, with the actual 'stargazing' limited to ten minutes at best. WTF? I noted my complaint on the survey form, but the important thing was the kids held it together for the hour - heck, YaYa even raised her hand and answered a question about constellations.
One great moment tho': when the lights did go down and the stars come out, LuLu gasped and said "Daddy it's beautiful!"
When we got out of the planetarium it was dark, and I drove around looking for a place to eat at least near campus. We eventually settled on a kitchy hamburger joint that has a branch near us.
The kids were tired at this point and ornery, and this was *not* a pleasant meal.
But the food was good . . .
Until I picked up LuLu's last chicken nugget and tore a piece off for myself. It was raw inside. Not 'half-cooked'. RAW. Like, "I just killed and gutted the chicken two minutes ago raw." I of course brought it to the attention of the staff, who reimbursed me the cost of the nuggets and later brought an ice cream sundae out for us.
They were fawning over us, but I set the manager straight: barring Lulu getting sick, this was the last they'd hear from me, so long as the cook would be reprimanded and trained. He agreed and at one point got on his knees to ask forgiveness of my daughter, which was WAAAYYY over the top.
She never had so much as a tummy-ache, by the way.
That ended our night. It was a nice ride home (with the girls singing songs from summer camp) and then on to bed.
A very nice day indeed.
Now I don't remember that statue from my years on campus, but of course I could be mistaken. But if I'm right, it's in a sorry state, with chips missing and some of the concrete showing significant wear. Which, as I write this, probably invalidates my memory, no?
Anyhow, the kids held it together.
And YaYa even designed some smiley faces out of stones. Hey, it was a LONG WAIT.
Soon enough it was time for the show.
The professor in charge asked me how I'd learned of the show, and I told her my father had brought me when I was a kid. (I remember listening to Eddie Murphy's Party all the Time and Starship's We Built this City on the way to campus.)
The show itself was nothing to brag about. It was mainly a lecture, with the actual 'stargazing' limited to ten minutes at best. WTF? I noted my complaint on the survey form, but the important thing was the kids held it together for the hour - heck, YaYa even raised her hand and answered a question about constellations.
One great moment tho': when the lights did go down and the stars come out, LuLu gasped and said "Daddy it's beautiful!"
When we got out of the planetarium it was dark, and I drove around looking for a place to eat at least near campus. We eventually settled on a kitchy hamburger joint that has a branch near us.
The kids were tired at this point and ornery, and this was *not* a pleasant meal.
But the food was good . . .
Until I picked up LuLu's last chicken nugget and tore a piece off for myself. It was raw inside. Not 'half-cooked'. RAW. Like, "I just killed and gutted the chicken two minutes ago raw." I of course brought it to the attention of the staff, who reimbursed me the cost of the nuggets and later brought an ice cream sundae out for us.
They were fawning over us, but I set the manager straight: barring Lulu getting sick, this was the last they'd hear from me, so long as the cook would be reprimanded and trained. He agreed and at one point got on his knees to ask forgiveness of my daughter, which was WAAAYYY over the top.
She never had so much as a tummy-ache, by the way.
That ended our night. It was a nice ride home (with the girls singing songs from summer camp) and then on to bed.
A very nice day indeed.
Our Trip to UWM pt. 2
After our walk through the woods we hit a section of campus where I took 80% of my classes. Journalism and History were predominantly taught in the beautiful red brick buildings on the northeast section of campus.
The girls appreciated them for the handicapped ramps - perfect for YaYa's heely's!
Ah, the memories when I stepped foot inside. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" I asked.
"It smells like church," Lulu said, wrinkling her nose.
I showed them the huge lecture hall where took several entry level courses, marvelled at my ability to recall the location of each restroom, and was slightly perplexed at the difficulty I had in finding Holton G90, the room where I took what, seven or eight senior and graduate level courses. But find it we did.
From there, we headed across to the library, and the centerpiece of a kid's memories of the campus, the fountain.
I remember playing in the fountain when my Dad took me to UWM, and the girls love it just as much.
I wanted to get a picture of all of us, but with no one around I did the old Lisa/Dan trick. It ain't a perfect science. (and curse my flat hair. I knew I should have used volumizing mousse that morning!)
Catch that wicked scar on YaYa's arm? She's got a matching one that runs down the side of her chest, courtesy of a fall out of a tree this summer.
We then headed to the Union to grab something to eat, but the place was shut down nice and tight. You could get in, of course, but there wasn't a scrap of food to be found. However, it was good to see the pool hall (where I'd gone when skipping many a class) was still open.
to be continued . . .
The girls appreciated them for the handicapped ramps - perfect for YaYa's heely's!
Ah, the memories when I stepped foot inside. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" I asked.
"It smells like church," Lulu said, wrinkling her nose.
I showed them the huge lecture hall where took several entry level courses, marvelled at my ability to recall the location of each restroom, and was slightly perplexed at the difficulty I had in finding Holton G90, the room where I took what, seven or eight senior and graduate level courses. But find it we did.
From there, we headed across to the library, and the centerpiece of a kid's memories of the campus, the fountain.
I remember playing in the fountain when my Dad took me to UWM, and the girls love it just as much.
I wanted to get a picture of all of us, but with no one around I did the old Lisa/Dan trick. It ain't a perfect science. (and curse my flat hair. I knew I should have used volumizing mousse that morning!)
Catch that wicked scar on YaYa's arm? She's got a matching one that runs down the side of her chest, courtesy of a fall out of a tree this summer.
We then headed to the Union to grab something to eat, but the place was shut down nice and tight. You could get in, of course, but there wasn't a scrap of food to be found. However, it was good to see the pool hall (where I'd gone when skipping many a class) was still open.
to be continued . . .
Our trip to UWM - pt 1
I would say the most painful casualty of the layoff is not the everyday scramble to pay the bills, or the slooow and often complicated process of securing a good paying job (Sealed university transcripts please, couriered, not sent via post, and include a standard release form and two reference letters. And remember, we are closed on Monday's! Thank you!). No, Lisa might disagree but I say the situation I regret the most is the curbing of our traditional family activities, the things we feel to be important and hold dear.
For instance, I don't know how (or if) we'll be able to afford to keep the kids in dance class in the fall. A small matter, in the big picture, but again, something we hold dear. We've even sucked it up and asked the family for assistance on this (and note, it is the ONLY time such a call has gone out, whatever Lisa's AWOL brothers might mutter to themselves). It was met mainly with a deafening silence.
(But when they need assistance, my how our answering machine lights up!)
I digress.
One of the casualties of our - MY - failure to replace my former income was UWM's College for Kids program. YaYa had attended for three years, and LuLu for one, and I'm proud to say I participated in the same program in my youth.
Whatever they learn in the classroom is a bonus, but even if they come out without a single fact learned, I think it's incredibly valuable. It acclimates them to a university campus, to professors, and to a (faint shadow) of the expectations placed upon t students. It demystifies an often intimidating experience down the road. I'm the perfect example. I ALWAYS felt at home on campus, because I'd walked those same halls years before.
So I decided, as Grandpa's Day neared, to take the girls and spend the day on campus. I wanted to walk around and reacquaint them with the school, to have dinner on the grounds, and to finish the night with a visit to the planetarium.
Friday afternoon, we hit the road.
As we drove over the Hoan Bridge, with Lake Michigan to our right, we had a splendid view of the crystal blue water. What happened next is irritating to many people, but music to my ears. For me, one of the best parts of being a parent is wading through a barrage of questions, watching their reactions to sights and events, and answering, knowing that some small part of what you're saying is absorbed and becomes a part of who they become.
Look at all those sailboats Daddy!/Have you ever been on a sailboat? Was it fun?/ What's on the other side of the lake?/How long would it take to sail there?/ Could you, like, take a paddle boat across?/Have we ever been to Michigan?/What states have we been to?/ Have I been to more states then Lulu?/ How come YaYa's been to Minnesota and I haven't?/Why isn't there a lake on the other side of the bridge?/Are there sharks in the water?/ Why is the ocean salty?/ Why are all the people down there (Irish Fest)?/ Are Leprechauns real? (Cousin) Stacey says she's a leprechaun [No, she isn't. She's just short honey.]/ Are we Irish?/ What are we?/ I've been to Irish Fest haven't I?/Why are they stopping? You can't stop on the freeway, right Daddy?/How come sometimes the lines on the road are solid and sometimes they're dashes?
Our first stop on campus was Downer Woods, an 11 acre forested land on the north side of campus. It is/was home to a pile of logs and branches the kids believed was Eeyore's house, and it has become our custom to pay him a visit. I've written about this on several occasions in the past few years.
Anyhow, last year a storm, or rot, or just jag-off human knocked Eeyore's house down. At the center of this myth had been the sighting of a blue light inside the structure, 'proof' that it was inhabited. (I think it was a castoff of blue garland or glass, if memory serves.) Even with the house down, they were intent on looking for evidence Eeyore had visited.
(oh, YaYa claimed to be above it all, but was awfully eager for a skeptic).
We found the house still is disarray . .
But YaYa returned to "Pooh's house" and the sight of it, and something or another inside 'proving' it to be in use, saved the day.
At that point we usually reverse course and head back the way we came. But this year, with no infant or fuddy-duddy Mom around, we completed the circuit of the Woods acreage, something I'd never done before.
Every so often the kids would stop to look at something. YaYa at a spider she frightened her sister with; Lulu with some mushrooms growing on the side of a tree, complete with a big spider of its own.
Right outside the woods they both noticed the imprint of leaves in the concrete. "Fossils!" said YaYa, and they both made me stop and take a picture.
I note, with some alarm, that this post is already mammoth. I'll cut this off and call it "part one", and see you on the flip side.
For instance, I don't know how (or if) we'll be able to afford to keep the kids in dance class in the fall. A small matter, in the big picture, but again, something we hold dear. We've even sucked it up and asked the family for assistance on this (and note, it is the ONLY time such a call has gone out, whatever Lisa's AWOL brothers might mutter to themselves). It was met mainly with a deafening silence.
(But when they need assistance, my how our answering machine lights up!)
I digress.
One of the casualties of our - MY - failure to replace my former income was UWM's College for Kids program. YaYa had attended for three years, and LuLu for one, and I'm proud to say I participated in the same program in my youth.
Whatever they learn in the classroom is a bonus, but even if they come out without a single fact learned, I think it's incredibly valuable. It acclimates them to a university campus, to professors, and to a (faint shadow) of the expectations placed upon t students. It demystifies an often intimidating experience down the road. I'm the perfect example. I ALWAYS felt at home on campus, because I'd walked those same halls years before.
So I decided, as Grandpa's Day neared, to take the girls and spend the day on campus. I wanted to walk around and reacquaint them with the school, to have dinner on the grounds, and to finish the night with a visit to the planetarium.
Friday afternoon, we hit the road.
As we drove over the Hoan Bridge, with Lake Michigan to our right, we had a splendid view of the crystal blue water. What happened next is irritating to many people, but music to my ears. For me, one of the best parts of being a parent is wading through a barrage of questions, watching their reactions to sights and events, and answering, knowing that some small part of what you're saying is absorbed and becomes a part of who they become.
Look at all those sailboats Daddy!/Have you ever been on a sailboat? Was it fun?/ What's on the other side of the lake?/How long would it take to sail there?/ Could you, like, take a paddle boat across?/Have we ever been to Michigan?/What states have we been to?/ Have I been to more states then Lulu?/ How come YaYa's been to Minnesota and I haven't?/Why isn't there a lake on the other side of the bridge?/Are there sharks in the water?/ Why is the ocean salty?/ Why are all the people down there (Irish Fest)?/ Are Leprechauns real? (Cousin) Stacey says she's a leprechaun [No, she isn't. She's just short honey.]/ Are we Irish?/ What are we?/ I've been to Irish Fest haven't I?/Why are they stopping? You can't stop on the freeway, right Daddy?/How come sometimes the lines on the road are solid and sometimes they're dashes?
Our first stop on campus was Downer Woods, an 11 acre forested land on the north side of campus. It is/was home to a pile of logs and branches the kids believed was Eeyore's house, and it has become our custom to pay him a visit. I've written about this on several occasions in the past few years.
Anyhow, last year a storm, or rot, or just jag-off human knocked Eeyore's house down. At the center of this myth had been the sighting of a blue light inside the structure, 'proof' that it was inhabited. (I think it was a castoff of blue garland or glass, if memory serves.) Even with the house down, they were intent on looking for evidence Eeyore had visited.
(oh, YaYa claimed to be above it all, but was awfully eager for a skeptic).
We found the house still is disarray . .
But YaYa returned to "Pooh's house" and the sight of it, and something or another inside 'proving' it to be in use, saved the day.
At that point we usually reverse course and head back the way we came. But this year, with no infant or fuddy-duddy Mom around, we completed the circuit of the Woods acreage, something I'd never done before.
Every so often the kids would stop to look at something. YaYa at a spider she frightened her sister with; Lulu with some mushrooms growing on the side of a tree, complete with a big spider of its own.
Right outside the woods they both noticed the imprint of leaves in the concrete. "Fossils!" said YaYa, and they both made me stop and take a picture.
I note, with some alarm, that this post is already mammoth. I'll cut this off and call it "part one", and see you on the flip side.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Jim Doyle Won't Seek Re-election
Big news out of Madison: according to published reports, WI Gov. Jim Doyle (D) has decided against a 2010 bid for re-election.
Hallelujah.
It's long been suspected that Doyle, a very loyal and left of center Democrat, would be granted a job in the Obama administration, and maybe that was the impetus for the move. Or it could be the knowledge that '10 was bound to be a nasty and difficult campaign. Taxes have been rising while the state deficit has grown to nearly $7 billion, and there are several strong challengers waiting in the wings.
So 2010 looks to be a doozy of an election. Who'll win the office? Barbara Lawton? Scott Walker? Mark Neumann? Tom Barrett can't be considering another run at it, right? Or will a dark horse take the prize?
Wait and see.
Spent the day @ UWM with my two oldest girls. Great time. Supposed to have a rummage tomorrow, but it's been postponed.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Coraline 3D
Well, you know what? I wanted to post this *prior* to that brief post about our 3D party, but what the hey, here it is.
Coraline is a film based on a young adult novel by a favorite author of mine, Neil Gaiman. YaYa finished the book herself sometime last year, an impressive feat for someone her age. Frankly I doubted her, but sure enough, she could recite the plot details prior to seeing the film.
A stop-motion animated film shot in 3D, it tells the story of a young girl who moves with her family to a triplex in the country. Loved but largely ignored by her distracted parents, Coraline soon discovers a mirror universe behind a small door in her apartment.
In that seemingly perfect land her Mom and Dad exist as loving and attentive parents who dote on her every wish. One small problem: they have buttons in place of eyes.
Well, two small problems actually. They also want to keep Coraline forever - and they have her buttons ready and waiting.
I liked the film and was genuinely entertained, but there are some frightening aspects to this film. While they advance the plot and are integral to it, I think Gaiman has a bad habit of pushing the boundaries of violence and fear in children's literature.
Still, well worth seeing - but I would restrict most viewing to those ten and older.
3.0 out of 4
Coraline is a film based on a young adult novel by a favorite author of mine, Neil Gaiman. YaYa finished the book herself sometime last year, an impressive feat for someone her age. Frankly I doubted her, but sure enough, she could recite the plot details prior to seeing the film.
A stop-motion animated film shot in 3D, it tells the story of a young girl who moves with her family to a triplex in the country. Loved but largely ignored by her distracted parents, Coraline soon discovers a mirror universe behind a small door in her apartment.
In that seemingly perfect land her Mom and Dad exist as loving and attentive parents who dote on her every wish. One small problem: they have buttons in place of eyes.
Well, two small problems actually. They also want to keep Coraline forever - and they have her buttons ready and waiting.
I liked the film and was genuinely entertained, but there are some frightening aspects to this film. While they advance the plot and are integral to it, I think Gaiman has a bad habit of pushing the boundaries of violence and fear in children's literature.
Still, well worth seeing - but I would restrict most viewing to those ten and older.
3.0 out of 4
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Les Paul Dead at 94
Waukesha's own Les Paul, the inventor of the electric guitar and music legend, has passed away. He was 94.
RIP Les - you made Wisconsin proud.
The Graveyard Book
Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book is a young adult novel set, as the title indicates, in a cemetery.
A young family is viciously murdered in their home by a mysterious figure known as Jack. During the attack the family's toddler wanders out of the house and down the road to a cemetery, where it quickly draws the attention and affection of a long deceased couple. They mask the boy's presence from the killer and adopt him as their own.
The boy, renamed Nobody Owens, grows up in the graveyard under the watchful eye of the numerous souls buried there. As he matures he longs for the world outside the gates, a world of flesh and blood, of living human beings - and a world where a murderer is still searching for the boy that escaped his wrath.
This is written as a young adult novel, and by most accounts fits the bill, but there is a good deal of violence for something aimed at 9-12 year olds. In particular the murder of the family, and the eventual confrontation between Nobody and his nemesis, come on a little strong in my opinion.
Even so, Gaiman is a wonderful, imaginative writer, and if you are comfortable with your child handling a few pages of blood, by all means pick up a copy.
2.90 out of 4
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Street Work
The city is marking up the street in front of my house - literally, directly in front of my house - and I went and asked what was going on. Turns out they're building a gas line from the landfill in Franklin, all the way down to Jones Island. (!) Based on soil samples from in front of my house, they may have to dig the street up to lay the pipe. Yikes!
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
On Empire, Hoth, and Horrorween
I just finished watching the last 45 minutes of The Empire Strikes Back, and it brought back a lot of memories. I was a huge Star Wars nut as a kid, and at six years old my Dad took me to see Empire. We got there early, and I peaked through a window on the theater door and saw R2D2 fix the hyperdrive on the 'Falcon.
After the movie, I was pretty shaken. Seeing Han, my favorite character, frozen in carbonite scared the beejeezus out of me, and I couldn't sleep under my normal SW blanket that night. I just couldn't stand looking at Han, and I remember looking up 'carbon' in the encyclopedia in the next few days to try to find out if he was in pain or not.
Add in the whole "I am your father" thing, which confused me (I asked my Dad if he thought Vader was lying) and it was a chaotic mess of a movie visit, but one I'll remember forever.
You know, I've long since ditched SW fandom. It's cool, but it's not the cat's meow it once was for me. Even so, Empire stands as a great movie in its own right, independent of the series as a whole. It is dark and full of pain, emotional and physical, and the good guys don't win - but there is hope, and friendship, and love. It's truly great.
[Plus Leia never looked better - yes, even in the golden bikini of Jedi - and the battle for Hoth ROCKED]
* * * *
In another bit of useless trivia, I have discarded a copy of Horrorween by Al Sarrantonio. Sarrantonio's got talent and a way with words, but when you're midway through a book and a character says (parprhrasing here) "Remember the genius robotic engineer who went insane after his son was murdered by the clown? He escaped from the hospital and is on the loose!" well, there's no going back.
'Twas a time I'd finish any book I'd started, but screw that. Life's too short to waste it wading through crud.
After the movie, I was pretty shaken. Seeing Han, my favorite character, frozen in carbonite scared the beejeezus out of me, and I couldn't sleep under my normal SW blanket that night. I just couldn't stand looking at Han, and I remember looking up 'carbon' in the encyclopedia in the next few days to try to find out if he was in pain or not.
Add in the whole "I am your father" thing, which confused me (I asked my Dad if he thought Vader was lying) and it was a chaotic mess of a movie visit, but one I'll remember forever.
You know, I've long since ditched SW fandom. It's cool, but it's not the cat's meow it once was for me. Even so, Empire stands as a great movie in its own right, independent of the series as a whole. It is dark and full of pain, emotional and physical, and the good guys don't win - but there is hope, and friendship, and love. It's truly great.
[Plus Leia never looked better - yes, even in the golden bikini of Jedi - and the battle for Hoth ROCKED]
* * * *
In another bit of useless trivia, I have discarded a copy of Horrorween by Al Sarrantonio. Sarrantonio's got talent and a way with words, but when you're midway through a book and a character says (parprhrasing here) "Remember the genius robotic engineer who went insane after his son was murdered by the clown? He escaped from the hospital and is on the loose!" well, there's no going back.
'Twas a time I'd finish any book I'd started, but screw that. Life's too short to waste it wading through crud.
Update: Town Hall Meeting
Did any reader actually attend the town hall meeting? I couldn't, but I just caught a synopsis of the event on the news. Apparently Moore answered only "five or six" questions during the entire two hour session, and the crowd was described as largely pro-Moore. I expected that, given the restrictions on speech she imposed, but I was suprised at the large number of opposing viewpoints that managed to be heard. Things got heated, but not violent, and if you think it was some grand GOP plan that got emotions running, think again.
Quoting Moore, verbatim, from the telecast of the meeting:
"One of the things we['re] gonna do is we're gonna repeal THOSE TAX BREAKS for the wealthiest Americans [applause, cks notes] . . . Number TWO, we're gonna end the war in Iraq! [applause, cks notes again, then yells the following] Number THREE, we're gonna MAKE THOSE INSURANCE COMPANIES BRING SOMETHIN' TO THE TABLE BESIDES THEIR APPETITE [loud applause]."
Really?? This was not a campaign rally, and all that crap did was satisfy the faithful who were already in her corner and harden the opposition's belief that she's all slogans and nothing more. I think that instead, she might have spent a little more than the half-hour that she devoted to *actually* interacting with the people of the district.
Again, as expressly pointed out by the reporters, this is the one and only time Moore will meet with her constituents.
Sigh.
Quoting Moore, verbatim, from the telecast of the meeting:
"One of the things we['re] gonna do is we're gonna repeal THOSE TAX BREAKS for the wealthiest Americans [applause, cks notes] . . . Number TWO, we're gonna end the war in Iraq! [applause, cks notes again, then yells the following] Number THREE, we're gonna MAKE THOSE INSURANCE COMPANIES BRING SOMETHIN' TO THE TABLE BESIDES THEIR APPETITE [loud applause]."
Really?? This was not a campaign rally, and all that crap did was satisfy the faithful who were already in her corner and harden the opposition's belief that she's all slogans and nothing more. I think that instead, she might have spent a little more than the half-hour that she devoted to *actually* interacting with the people of the district.
Again, as expressly pointed out by the reporters, this is the one and only time Moore will meet with her constituents.
Sigh.
Town Hall Meeting Tonight
Egads, it galls me to promote anything connected to my Congresswoman, but she is hosting a town hall meeting about Obamacare tonight, in uh, four minutes actually. It runs until six, so you can still attend, but don't bother going with a question in mind: Moore, never the sharpest pencil in the pouch, is responding only to questions that were submitted in advance and pre-approved by her staff. Why, that sounds like a joyous, give and take expression of democracy to me!
Oh, and please, if you go: remember to bring a spare tire. Ok, ok - cheap shot. Deserved, but cheap.
On a serious note: this is the first and only town hall meeting she'll be holding. The local Republican Congressmen have scheduled multiple sessions; off the top of my head, Paul Ryan has more than a dozen on the table.
WHO: Rep. Gwen Moore, D-Wisc.
WHAT: Informational session on health care reform
WHEN: Tuesday, August 11, 2009, 4-6 p.m.., CST
WHERE: North Division High School, Milwaukee, WI
Congresswoman Gwen Moore (D-Wisc.) will Tuesday hold an informational session to hear from her constituents on the proposed health care reform legislation that the House of Representatives will likely consider in September.
A representative from the University of Wisconsin is expected to be on hand to give a non-partisan, informational presentation on the bill’s specifics.
Oh, and please, if you go: remember to bring a spare tire. Ok, ok - cheap shot. Deserved, but cheap.
On a serious note: this is the first and only town hall meeting she'll be holding. The local Republican Congressmen have scheduled multiple sessions; off the top of my head, Paul Ryan has more than a dozen on the table.
WHO: Rep. Gwen Moore, D-Wisc.
WHAT: Informational session on health care reform
WHEN: Tuesday, August 11, 2009, 4-6 p.m.., CST
WHERE: North Division High School, Milwaukee, WI
Congresswoman Gwen Moore (D-Wisc.) will Tuesday hold an informational session to hear from her constituents on the proposed health care reform legislation that the House of Representatives will likely consider in September.
A representative from the University of Wisconsin is expected to be on hand to give a non-partisan, informational presentation on the bill’s specifics.
Congresswoman Moore will also answer questions that constituents have submitted online on health care reform. Those who plan to attend need to submit their questions online prior to the event.
EDIT: Formatting and text changes were rejected by Blogger at the time of publication, citing code errors that were over my head. I posted as-is given the time sensitive issue. Coming back now, a few hours later, I went with the original (intended) post.
Freaky
Every few minutes I've heard this guttural sound coming from the other room. Kind of freaky in a quiet house, actually. Then I got it: it's Smiley's crickets. They aren't quite chirping so much as . . . well, making unique disgusting noises.
Watchmen - the movie
The night before he left for Cape Cod, my nephew and I sat down to watch a movie. After a few minutes Lisa called out from the other room.
"That music is cool," she said. "What are you watching?"
"Watchmen," I said.
"What's it about?"
"Basically, superheroes are illegal, but when one of them is murdered a group of retired heroes gets back together to solve the crime."
There was silence for a moment.
"So, it's a violent The Incredibles?"
And that, Dear Reader, is the problem. Watchmen was innovative in the '80's, and a thousand stories owe a debt to the monumental graphic novel. But the market is so saturated with knock-offs that the original seems almost mundane. It's something I first wrote about in my review of the comic itself.
The movie itself is a visual treat, and for the most part follows the novel blow-for-blow. Aside from the stilted acting of Malin Akerman, I thought it was very enjoyable, and Rorschach's scene in the prison cafeteria was worth the price of the rental all by its lonesome.
The bad? The graphic novel is a long read, as such things go, and the movie seems to drag as it sticks close to the source material. Then they inexplicably change the nature of the threat in the closing minutes, altering the logic (and effectiveness) of the whole exercise.*
Still, if you can push past the feeling that you've seen it all before, it's worth a look.
2.8 out of 4.
* SPOILER: if it isn't an 'outside' threat that destroys the cities, what's the point? I mean, Dr. Manhattan is still a (rogue) U.S. employee right? If he blows up Tehran, I'm thinking the Iranians still have a legitimate grievance against America, no? So what did it all accomplish? Nada, not in the 'real' world.
"That music is cool," she said. "What are you watching?"
"Watchmen," I said.
"What's it about?"
"Basically, superheroes are illegal, but when one of them is murdered a group of retired heroes gets back together to solve the crime."
There was silence for a moment.
"So, it's a violent The Incredibles?"
And that, Dear Reader, is the problem. Watchmen was innovative in the '80's, and a thousand stories owe a debt to the monumental graphic novel. But the market is so saturated with knock-offs that the original seems almost mundane. It's something I first wrote about in my review of the comic itself.
The movie itself is a visual treat, and for the most part follows the novel blow-for-blow. Aside from the stilted acting of Malin Akerman, I thought it was very enjoyable, and Rorschach's scene in the prison cafeteria was worth the price of the rental all by its lonesome.
The bad? The graphic novel is a long read, as such things go, and the movie seems to drag as it sticks close to the source material. Then they inexplicably change the nature of the threat in the closing minutes, altering the logic (and effectiveness) of the whole exercise.*
Still, if you can push past the feeling that you've seen it all before, it's worth a look.
2.8 out of 4.
* SPOILER: if it isn't an 'outside' threat that destroys the cities, what's the point? I mean, Dr. Manhattan is still a (rogue) U.S. employee right? If he blows up Tehran, I'm thinking the Iranians still have a legitimate grievance against America, no? So what did it all accomplish? Nada, not in the 'real' world.
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