Friday, April 30, 2010

Under The Dome


Stephen King's Under The Dome. Imagine you're hiking out of a small Maine town. There's the drone of a small private plane overhead, and you see a woodchuck shuffling along the road toward you. It hasn't yet made up its mind whether to duck out of sight, and suddenly it will never get to, as it's body is sliced in half by something invisible. Then, the plane you heard slams into the same invisible barrier, explodes, and rains debris all around you. In the next few hours, you find that you're not going anywhere, because the town of Chester's Mill is now trapped inside an upside-down bowl, and only air can get through. King examines how society breaks down when isolation is total and the societal leaders care only for how much power they can accumulate; he also examines how people of genuine good will confront the evil in human nature.

All of this is inside the most gorgeous book cover I have ever seen.

I've said before that the highest compliment I can pay a book is my eagerness to re-read it, to enter the author's world again and to see it through his characters' eyes. I haven't made that journey yet with Under The Dome, although I expect to relatively soon. For now, I'll have to settle for the second highest compliment I can give a book. Even though Under The Dome is over 1000 pages long, it's too short; I simply didn't want it to end.

To Lisa, On Our 6th Anniversary

It seems just barely believable that it has been 10 years since we first met and became online buddies in the Dean Koontz forum on Usenet. Or that it has been 9 years since you became my most important confidant in the implosion of my second marriage. Since you sent me the "Our friendship is as rare as a rose blooming in the snow" email.

I cherish the memory of the day we first met in person in Roanoke, of knowing then and there that I had at last met the other part of myself, of hoping against hope that you felt the same, and of the joy coming in the next few months upon realizing that you did.

I am proud that I managed to surprise you by proposing on your birthday, and that I did it "right", with bended knee and a diamond ring held out to you in anticipation.

I look forward to this day each year, for it means celebrating a union that is good and strong. It means that we've made it to another milepost, surely having passed the time with a great deal of laughter, with some exasperation for the habits we each have that drive the other crazy, but with the determination that we will learn a bit more patience with each other every day, and with an always deeper commitment to each other.

Nothing worthwhile comes without attendant struggles, but being your husband is singularly easy. How could it not be, when I have you for my bedrock?

I love you, I am grateful for the happiness you have brought into my life, I hope I return that happiness to you in full measure, and I am looking forward to the rest of our adventure together in this life.

Happy anniversary, honey.

Friday, April 16, 2010

From The Nothing-Succeeds-Like-Excess Department...

So I was just sitting and wondering what to do with that extra $60 million that's burning a hole in my pocket, when the Universe whacked me up side the head with a clue stick, leaving this inspiration. Prepare to be amazed.

Daily Zen

I subscribe to a feed on Facebook called My Daily Zen, and while today's bit of wisdom is not nearly ambiguous to really be a Zen koan, it is a wonderful bit of wisdom: There are three ways you can get to the top of a tree: sit on an acorn; make friends with a bird; climb it.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

The OKC Bomb, 15 Years On

I have no words to match those of Ed Vulliamy, who reported on the Oklahoma City bombing in April 1995, on Timothy McVeigh, and now on the 15th anniversary of the bombing.

I remained horrified by the mass murder committed by a former American soldier and cannot fathom how he thought any cause was served by killing 19 children, among his 168 victims.

I am now and will forever remain in awe of the people of Oklahoma City. They showed the rest of us -- yes, I'm looking at you, New York City -- how to honor the memory of those taken by the faithless in truly senseless acts of violence.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Notes From My Week...


  • Dreamworks is slowly building into a powerhouse animation studio, with Kung Fu Panda a couple of years ago and now How To Train Your Dragon. They've developed a Pixar-like knack in their storytelling, especially as they tone down the dependence on pop cultural references. Honestly, the moments when Hiccup was riding on the back of Toothless, and there was nothing else but the two of them and the sky were exhilarating. The story was pretty standard, with the young boy who was an outcast in his own society, who discovers a basic flaw in that society and manages to lead his people into a new and better way of life and become accepted and valued. The humor seemed less forced than in some other Dreamworks features, and the emotions in the story seemed genuine.

  • Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution is a riveting hour of television. In tonight's episode, I think that Jamie found the key to making his revolution a success: enlisting high school age kids who have a vested interest in a healthier diet, have them cook for local movers and shakers who could shake loose the money needed to train school cooks in cooking from scratch for masses, and then give their testimonials to the movers and shakers.

  • Indications are that my job duties are about to be shaken up. Nothing official yet, but the signs are there.

  • It's been great exchanging messages with an old friend from high school this week (you know who you are!).

Saturday, March 27, 2010

It Didn't Work

I'm sure it's not a comment on the good people of Pennsylvania, since I know quite a few highly intelligent people from there. However, this does not describe any of them. I bet the possum was annoyed, too.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Ritual, Interrupted

So, it's a beautiful Friday afternoon, the kind of warm Carolina day that anticipates Spring as surely as the buds on the trees. And, like every Friday afternoon for the past couple of years, when we're both at work, I went to the bank to pick up Lisa for our once-a-week lunch out. As I drove over, window down, I was listening to one of my current favorite CDs, Lady Antebellum's Need You Now. There seemed to be no need to take a cue from the title song's tale of both halves of broken relationship trying to reach out in a futile grasp for what can't be held onto.

Unlike most Friday afternoons, Lisa was stuck at the bank, waiting on customers. We both knew there was no way she'd be able to get out and join me for what is a high point of the work week for us both.

I tooled over to Zaxby's, got her the Kickin' Chicken sandwich meal and large Diet Coke she likes, dropped it back with her at the bank, and then went to Chick-Fil-A, where I proceeded to drown my sorrows in a #1 meal with a large Coke Zero. I'm sure I looked like a real Sad Sack geek, eating my chicken sandwich and fries with my phone in my hand. I mean, who could know that I was reading Moby Dick while I was there missing my wife?

Yes, I could have turned the rest of my day into It-Sucks-To-Be-Eddie-Friday, but why? It's still a beautiful afternoon, Lady Antebellum still sounds as sweet -- Hello World is a wonderful song for when you're feeling a little blue -- I'm going to see Lisa at home this evening, and we're going to have another turn at one of the rituals of our marriage next Friday afternoon. All in all, it's not so bad being me.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Rescuing The Strays

I do not think that all those who choose wrong roads perish; but their rescue consists of being put back on the right road. A sum can be put right: but only by going back till you find the error and working it afresh from that point, never by simply going on. Evil can be undone, but it cannot 'develop' into good. Time does not heal it. The spell must be unwound, bit-by-bit, with 'backwards mutters of dissevering power' - or else not. It is still 'either-or.' If we insist on keeping Hell (or even Earth), we shall not see Heaven: if we accept Heaven we shall not be able to retain the smallest and most intimate souvenirs of Hell.

- C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce

Monday, March 15, 2010

RIP Peter Graves


From "Should you choose to accept this mission...this tape will self-destruct in five seconds" to "Roger, Roger...What's our vector, Victor?", Peter Graves was a smooth and debonair actor. He will be remembered most for his role as Jim Phelps in TV series Mission: Impossible and the pilot Clarence Oveur in the movie Airplane. He played the earnest hero quite ably, then proved capable of comedic subtlety by playing both a send-up of his hero persona and his own straight man in the process.

And after that? He became somewhat of an icon, as his voice became the representation of the Biography series. Not at all a bad resume.

Factoid I didn't know before today -- Peter Graves was the younger brother of Marshal Dillon himself, James Arness.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

The Mistborn Trilogy


Imagine a world where the giant red sun is barely visible through an ash-filled sky. All vegetation is brown, and this is seen as normal, because no one remembers a time when plants were any other color. In fact, no even believes plants were ever anything but brown.

Then, imagine that the world is dying, from the very things that once saved it.

This is the world of The Mistborn Trilogy.

The political entity that encompasses this entire world (or at least as much of the world as we are made aware of in the story) is called the Final Empire.

The people of the Final Empire are divided into two classes, the nobility and the skaa. The latter may roughly be considered feudal serfs, as they are not quite slaves, but they are in no wise free; the former are the mercantile class and the local government.

The imperial government is run by two bodies: the bureaucratic Obligators with their tattoos of rank and the autocratic Steel Inquisitors with the spikes driven through their eyes. Together, they oversee the everyday running of the Empire and enforce its religious orthodoxy.

At the absolute apex is the Lord Ruler, who has held power for a thousand years, ever since he saved the world. Or did he?


Brandon Sanderson's trilogy is nothing less than the best written and most powerful work of American fantasy since the first three volumes of Orson Scott Card's Alvin Maker series were published in the latter half of the 1980s.

Sanderson is known for creating unique systems of magic; here, the primary magic is allomancy, in which a practitioner -- who must have a noble bloodline -- ingests and "burns" certain metals. This allows the allomancer, depending on what metal is being burned, to push or pull on any metal in the environment, to riot or sooth the emotions of others, to detect another allomancer burning metal, or to hide his own allomancy.

Physics holds true, in that what happens when an allomancer projects force against metal depends on whether the metal is attached to or lying on something that can resist the force. This makes for some extremely interesting action scenes, and accounts for the fact that no one but allomancers carry or wear metal.

Most allomancers can burn only a single metal. They are known as mistings.
A very few allomancers can burn any allomatic metal. They are mistborn. Magicians therefore have one power or all, nothing in between.

Sanderson is also known for asking, and answering, BIG questions. Faith and leadership are constant threads throughout the 2000+ pages of this narrative. As well, there is a single overriding question to each book of the trilogy.


In Mistborn, we are asked, "What happens when the hero of prophecy fails?"

In The Well of Ascension, the question is "What happens when everything we think we know is wrong?"

And in The Hero of Ages, we must find out "How do we save the world?" This question is neither theoretical nor rhetorical, but literal.

Sanderson's characters are vibrantly, exuberantly alive, and they grow throughout the books. And, the series rewards close attention to detail. There are actions and situations in the first hundred pages of book one that pay off in the last fifty pages of book three.

As you may have guessed, I recommend The Mistborn Trilogy without reservation. It is a truly enriching reading experience.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Finding Things

Some days you lose things so fast it seems they're running away. Yesterday was our day to find the things that didn't run fast or far enough.

First was the Wii Sports disc, missing for a week. I don't know if one of the cats knocked it off of the entertainment center or if it slipped unnoticed when Lisa decluttered around the TV, but it ended up under the side table where we have the Wii and a turntable. The bottom shelf of the table practically rests on the floor, close enough that we couldn't see under it. Lisa happened to see the disc when she shifted the table to clean around it. Now, we can have that bowling tournament.

Next, I checked the office printer/fax, and I found the fax confirmation that simply hadn't printed out before I left work on Monday. I guess I should've waited a little longer.

And lastly, my checkbook gave up on our game of hide-and-seek. I found it in the bottom of my backpack. I'm glad to postpone ordering more checks.

In every case, this quote applies: Persistence is like wrestling a gorilla. You don't quit when you get tired. You quit when the gorilla gets tired.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Today's Outbreak of Common Sense

Leadership requires freedom to take responsibility. Over the years the accretion of programs and entitlements has disconnected our leaders from this indispensable ingredient of all human accomplishment. No official, not even the president, has authority to make needed choices. Responsibility has been suffocated by law. The destruction of responsibility is a progressive disease, dragging the rest of society down with it. Ask any teacher or doctor. They're immersed in law all day long, preventing them from using their common sense to do what they believe is right. The only solution is to dredge the Potomac. Washington must start over, area by area, and simplify law so that officials have a chance of applying it sensibly to meet current needs. Individual responsibility should be the litmus test for all laws and programs.

- Philip K. Howard

Sunday, February 14, 2010

And Now For Something Different...

Just to prove the Babble On epigram, here's Rock Sugar!



Via Whatever.

Why Do I Do That?

Is there anything you do that, every time you do it, you find yourself at least mentally pausing and asking yourself, "Why do I do that?"

For my part, when I leave the room she's in for a task or short errand, I tell Lisa, "Be right back", or "Be back in a minute." I'm pretty sure she knows I'll return shortly, but I nearly always say it.

Opening Ceremonies

We watched the opening ceremonies of the Vancouver Winter Games on Friday night, and thanks to The Experiment, we saw them on the local NBC station in HD. How gorgeous! And it was truly appropriate that it was snowing in Greensboro as the Games opened.

Lisa has Native American ancestry, and she was thrilled with the First Country participation in the cultural portion of the ceremonies. We've attended a couple of pow-wows conducted by the Guilford Native American Association, and that helped me recognize several of the styles of dance.

The lighting effects were fantastic -- how did they pull off the orcas swimming in the open sea and spouting as they surfaced to breathe?!

I was still awake when the Olympic flag was carried into the stadium, but as the image and sound on the TV stuttered -- thanks be to my government for a great TV picture and erratic signal! -- I zoned out and missed the snafu where the fourth arm of the cauldron wouldn't rise from the floor. The replays show that the four torch bearers kept their dignity and did their country proud. However, can anyone explain to me, when the Olympic flame in the outdoor cauldron was lit, why didn't the woman who could only stand by as the other three lit the indoor flame get the honor?

The Experiment

Lisa and I have been living in our apartment ever since we got married. In fact, I've lived in the same apartment building, in three different apartments as my circumstances have changed over the years, for nine years now. Before that, I lived in two other apartment complexes for a bit over four years, after my first wife and I split. And Lisa lived in her apartment in Virginia for fourteen years before we got married.

Apartment living certainly beats not having a home, but it's time for a new goal. We're going to put our savings program in high gear, so we can put together a down payment for a house.

We've already taken the first step. As of last Tuesday, we no longer have cable television. Because we bundled our television and high-speed Internet, I didn't realize just how much we were paying, mainly to watch reruns of our favorite network series. Now, we have an extra $60 a month to put in savings.

The good thing is, since the DTV transition last year, a lot of local broadcasts are in high definition. The bad thing is, digital transmissions are a lot more susceptible interruption. Between unusually high winds and more snow storms than any winter in this area I can remember, we've been watching a lot of start-and-stop TV.

There's always Hulu, which is adding more "old" TV programming all the time.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Saints 31, Colts 17

With apologies to The Who (great halftime show, by the way): Meet the new boss, not the same as the old boss.

This Peyton Manning fan feels no regret at the way the Saints won Super Bowl XLIV.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Joe Posnanski Thinks Brett Favre Should Have Run

Yes, I shouted "Run!" at the TV. It was a reflex. But, of course, Brett Favre did not run. He clearly had no intention of running. Instead, he attempted the single dumbest pass anyone can remember -- a rolling right, throwing left, cross-his-body back-to-the-middle-of-the-field pass, the sort of pass they teach you not to throw about 47 minutes after you are born.*

*First lesson: This is how you breast feed. Second lesson: Cry and someone will change your diaper. Third lesson: In the NFL, you don't throw across your body back into the middle of the field.

The play has been dissected to death already -- and rightfully so -- and there is no shortage of things Favre SHOULD HAVE DONE instead of throwing that pass. Hell, he could have stopped in the middle of the play and started doing an interpretive dance to protest the treatment of Conan O'Brien and THAT would have been smarter than what he did.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

No Bookstore

The B. Dalton in the Mall del Norte in Laredo, Texas recently closed. The makes Laredo, with its population of 250,000, one of the largest cities in the United States without a bookstore. Greensboro is slightly larger than Laredo, and we have three big box bookstores in town.

B. Dalton is owned by Barnes and Noble, and even thought the Laredo store was profitable, B&N's corporate strategy is to get out of the mall bookstore line-of-business. This leaves the closest bookstore 150 miles away in San Antonio.

There is much concern in Laredo that this closing is going to hurt local literacy efforts. No one really expects the two public libraries, despite a catalog of over 200,000 volumes, to be able to meet the demand for popular titles.

There's a void here for someone to fill. Either Barnes and Noble or Borders could open one of their big box stores, but they've both been shrinking of late. Books-A-Million would be more likely, since it is largely in the South.

Or perhaps the most interesting notion: would Larry McMurtry be interested in expanding his bookstore business?

Saturday, January 16, 2010

50 - 201: Words

A week ago today, Lisa and I had one of our rare fights. It started because I was careless.

We're working on taming a stray cat we're calling Ollie. She's a pretty little cat, with very soft fur and markings that are a cross between a gray tabby and a calico. Lisa is letting her come inside occasionally, both to get warm and to get used to us. Last Saturday, Ollie did something new. She jumped up on one of our recliners.

Now, I have a strange sense of humor that leans a great deal on absurdities. Most of the time, when someone doesn't get one of my jokes, it's because I haven't given them my often warped mental context.

When Ollie got on the recliner, I said what I thought was a harmless joke aimed at her. I used a rather rude word. Lisa thought it was aimed at her and took great offense. The next few hours were not pleasant for me.

Lisa wasn't my target. For that matter, neither was Ollie. The situation was, but without my context, how could my wife know that? It really didn't make things better that I got snippy with her that she didn't buy my explanation, not at first.

We got over it. We always do. But I forgot a very valuable lesson from a business communications class I took almost 20 years ago: take 100% of the responsibility for your message.

I'm certain most of us have heard this old saying - Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me. Well, this old saw is well-intentioned, but like using a rusty hammer when you mean to make a precise cut in a board, it's wrong.

We are a social species. Our ability to live with each other is bound up in our ability to tell each other our stories. Our ability to think is both shaped and limited by our language. We can transcend this limit, which in turn shapes our language.

If your doubt the power of words, consider these phrases:
- I love you.
- You may now kiss the bride.
- It's a boy/girl!
- We find the defendant guilty as charged.
- I'm sorry for your loss.

Words can wound, and words can heal. They can imprison you, and they can set you free. They can illuminate ideas with perfect clarity, and they can obfuscate them with infuriating indirection.

They can tell you the daily same old, same old. They can teach you timeless history. They can give you a boundless future.

The key is to be aware of the tools you have in your words, so that you are their master and not their slave. Or, to use another old saw, say what you mean and mean what you say.

A Thought On Language

Just as a sculptor has to know the stone, and an orchestrator needs to understand all the instruments, so also the writer needs to know the language down to the bone.

- Orson Scott Card

Friday, January 15, 2010

On Laughter

However, a good laugh is a mighty good thing, and rather too scarce a good thing; the more's the pity. So if any one man, in his own proper person, afford stuff for a good joke to anybody, let him not be backward, but let him cheerfully allow himself to spend and to be spent in that way. And the man that has anything bountifully laughable about him, be sure there is more in that man than you perhaps think for.

- Herman Melville, Moby Dick

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Pigeon: Impossible

This could be a Pixar short. Yes, it's that good. Enjoy.

Buried and Strange

A lawyer named Strange died, and his friend asked the tombstone maker to inscribe on his tombstone, "Here lies Strange, an honest man, and a lawyer."

The inscriber insisted that such an inscription would be confusing, for passersby would tend to think that three men were buried under the stone.

However he suggested an alternative: He would inscribe, "Here lies a man who was both honest and a lawyer. That way, whenever anyone walked by the tombstone and read it, they would be certain to remark: 'That's Strange!'"

Thanks to John Varley, and if I'm unintentionally violating copyright, I want him to know that I don't use Sidewiki!

Sal the Cat

He looks up at you with huge eyes, as if to say "It's not my fault!"

Friday, January 1, 2010

Short Visits

Lisa and I were at home a week ago, having exchanged our Christmas gifts to each other and listening to freezing rain and sleet coming down. I had just called Dad and Mom to let them know that we weren't traveling to Whiteville after all.

That was the second time we changed travel plans in two days.

We originally planned to go see them this week when the kids got here from Indiana. I talked to my ex's partner on Wednesday night, and she told me that they intended to be on the road to North Carolina on the 27th, returning home on the 30th. I checked the Weather Channel web site and saw a great deal of snow in their forecast. That made me believe that they would not be able to make the trip, so I told my parents that Lisa and I would see them on Christmas Day.

That was the first time we changed travel plans.

I got a call in the middle of Christmas afternoon. It was Gigi, with welcome news. They had already started their trip south, expecting to stop overnight in Ohio and get to Greensboro on the 26th. This was most unexpected, given the forecasts, and I felt like I'd gotten the best Christmas present since I was a kid. I called Dad and Mom again to let them know that the kids were going to be here for a couple of days after all and to that we were coming down for a day trip on the 28th.

That was our third change in travel plans, and the most pleasant.

Dad was grilling inch-thick steaks when we got there, along with seasoned potatoes in foil. Lord, but we were all stuffed! We exchanged gifts after lunch, I played tech support for Mom's computer -- Internet Explorer was giving her problems, imagine that -- and my cousin Denise and her daughter Alex stopped by. Alex is 10 months older than Gigi, and they're thicker than thieves. I got to enjoy just sitting and listening to two or three other conversations for a while.

After Denise and Alex left, we went to visit Aunt Mildred, Dad's oldest sister by 10 years. She has a bad back, can't hear very well, and is a bit forgetful, but she's getting around better than Dad these days. She always makes coffee when I visit, even though she doesn't drink it anymore. And what coffee does she have? Decaf Fresh Market Christmas Blend. We gave it to her a couple of years ago, and she keeps it in the freezer. It still tastes fresh, and she's just a joy.

At home, we watched a lot of TV on DVD that the kids either don't usually see or were quite behind on: Seasons 1 and 2 of The Big Bang Theory (Everyone loves "The Saturnalia Miracle" episode!), and Season 1 of Better Off Ted (Who wouldn't want to work for Viridian Dynamics?).

Since they were departing for Indiana very early on the 30th, I took them back to their aunt and uncle's house the evening before. On the drive home, I felt, as always, the emptiness they leave behind. It doesn't persist quite as long as it used to, and why should it? My children are growing up well, and they have reached ages where it's natural for them to make their own ways in the world. Time has caught up with the changes in my role as a parent.