March 2005 Archives

Busy week, with a trip tucked in, so I've been out of touch with the world. Had to go up to Lake Placid for a couple of days. Originally, I was going to sneak in some skiing, but with the weather approaching 50 degrees and the roads turning into rivers from the snowmelt, I made the wise choice and left the planks home. That then left me with the dilemma of what to do: run, swim (the hotel had a pool), or bike. Could not decide, so I brought gear for all three. (Only ended up biking.) Remembered all that stuff, but completely forgot both my laptop and my Blackberry, so I was basically incommunicado for a couple of days, other than the cell phone. Something of a no-no in my world, but it didn't matter in the end.

It was beautiful up there. Sunny, warm, snow in the mountains. The roads, as mentioned, were rivers, and there was sand everywhere, but I took the bike out anyway and went 24k before my toes got so wet and cold I couldn't go anymore. Finally got to bike a little segment of road along the Ausable just below the village, a terribly beautiful little road that I've been wanting to ride for a couple of years. So lovely. Snow on the ground, the river flowing fast, ice on the banks, ducks in the water. Serene. Then when I got back, I had to get the sand out of everything . . . every cubic inch of the bike and myself. My shoes, my jersey, my helmet (!), my tights, certain very personal spaces. It was like coming in from a day at the beach, sand everywhere. I'm sure the maid wondered what was going on. (Hey, I cleaned it up as best I could!)

The week is almost over. Assignment for the weekend: get some gardening started! Every year, it's Memorial Day before I think about digging stuff up, expanding some of the spaces, building new boxes. Dammit, it's time to get it done!

If anyone else has recently attended a Quark promotion and heard about the wonders of the "new" Quark (to which I can only say, about flaming time! Their failure to issue a decent upgrade is the only reason I need to keep running Classic on my Macs), and if said anyone also received a cute little carabiner/compass/clock promotional item with the Quark logo on it, please please please tell me how to make it stop beeping every hour. I'm about to go insane.

So what did I do to welcome spring, other than pretend that a large rabbit brings Sweetart eggs and small items of clothing from Target into our home? I ate my weight in malted milk eggs, and all of us took a walk in the woods where there was such a profusion of robins hopping about on the forest floor that in fact it creeped me out more than a little. We had lunch at the Panera, which had a profusion of food and gave away all its baked goods to the last people in the store when they closed. (This means my co-workers get bagels in the morning!) Then we watched "The Great Escape," always a fantastic movie, in order to get the taste of "Snow Dogs" out of our mouths. The kids liked it, but I didn't, and was sorely beset by the waste of James Coburn, so we went sideways and watched "The Great Escape" to make up for it.

The other movie of the weekend, and in keeping with a spring theme if in title only, was "Pieces of April," which the box billed as a comedy. The box was wrong, but it was a sweet little movie about a very very troubled family going to experience the first Thanksgiving hosted by their eldest daughter. Katie Holmes, as if I need to say more. Lovely little movie, one that I probably won't remember in general, but from which little snippets will stick with us for years (such as sticking an entire onion into the turkey carcass, along with some bread mix and unchopped celery spears.) The poor girl doesn't have a clue -- but who did on their first Thanksgiving? I remember ours -- it was hosted for friends, not family, in our walkup apartment in Syracuse. I still have the roasting pan we used, which had to be surgically altered with pliers in order to fit into the tiny oven. God only knows what else we made -- there was consumption of mass quantities, I know that, and the night ended with an ill-advised stroll through a cemetery which was not even near our apartment. Since then we've gotten serious about the cranberry sauce, the birds are organic, and our strolls through cemeteries are strictly well-advised.

If you ever want to create an unbelievably rancid, awful smell that will spread throughout your house and give everyone a headache, leave a tangerine in a lunchbag, tuck the lunchbag away in a cupboard for three weeks, and then find it and open it up. Then run. It turns out that "try to wash out the lunchbag" will be the incorrect answer; the correct answer involves flame.

And then, having adequately aired the kitchen by this morning, I thought I would make oatmeal. Wrong! Not enough oatmeal, which is kind of a hard thing to stretch. Okay, plan B: corn sticks. I even have an egg, which is a rare surprise. But you know what? The corn meal recipe I've used 200 times doesn't come out quite like normal. So we'll see. But we may be right back to the cereal boxes in a few minutes.

Every now and then, I realize that I just haven't heard any Raspberries lately. And then I play them (the Collection CD, though believe me, I still have the vinyl), and for days and days and days I have the entire Raspberries catalog stuck in my head. Not necessarily a bad thing, but despite their hugeness thirty years ago and the influence they had on power pop in the late '70s and the New Wave era, it's hard to imagine there are a lot of other folks wandering around with "Go All the Way" stuck in their head through the day.

Best words you can hear from a 12-year-old on whom you've just lavished a fairly nice new present: "Dad! My new bike is SOOOOO perfect!"

My motto? Go hard or go home! Or both. Out on the bike today, first time this year. A little later than last couple of years, but within a standard deviation. Besides, soon there will be rain that I will use as my excuse for not getting out at all, so it's strictly an ego thing. Did a whopping 12K, but did them hard and fast. Lots of fun. And were my new Mavic Open Pro wheels with Shimano Ultegra hubs worth it? Oh, god, yes. My new wheels are SOOOOO perfect!

I'm a shameless collector of views over at Flickr, where I take comments from strangers on my photography as validation of my existence. Hey, as long as they validate!

Something I learned from this weekend's slumber party, which I'm sure I would have liked to have known back when I was a 12-year-old boy: 12-year-old girls fart. A lot. Loudly, and on purpose. Then they laugh about it, in clear contravention of the "no more fart jokes!" edict. That would have been nice to have had in the back pocket (so to speak) during any number of conversations with girls that began, "Eww! You are SOOO gross!"

Heard two very thought-provoking things on public radio lately. One, and I just don't know what program it was on, was a very interesting roundtable discussion of religious fundamentalism. It had fundamentalists of several faiths discussing their beliefs intelligently and reasonably, and the whole thing was quite enlightening. Here were people who presented their views without trying to diminish the views of others, who weren't spewing hate in the name of their beliefs, and it seemed somewhat of a relief to know they were out there, because it certainly isn't the current image of fundamentalism. I'm non-religious and very much believe in each person's right to believe whatever he or she believes in -- up to the point where that person's belief is that they have to convert me to their beliefs. I used to be patient with proselytizers, but I've now figured out that that only encourages them. Now they get told, "I have a religion," and the door gets closed. (That's a little trickier when they catch me out in the driveway, but I usually find a way.) And of course, it is in the course of these attempted conversions that I have my only contacts with fundamentalists. Between that and all the global fundamentalist-generated violence throughout the world, and the media's general lack of enlightenment with regard to presenting topics of religion (like science, they haven't figured out you can't cover this topic by presenting opposing viewpoints), I have had a dim view of fundamentalism. So it was refreshing to hear from reasoned people who could speak of their faith without rattling sabres, threatening hellfire, and constantly invoking the name of their particular god/savior/whatever every fifteen seconds.

The other, decidedly more secular, was Terry Gross's interview with Tim Curry on "Fresh Air." She's a great interviewer -- not only does she do her homework, she actually listens to what people say to her. Then, based on what they said, she asks followup questions. That may not seem earth-shattering, but look around at interview shows. For great interviewing, there's Howard Stern, there's Terry Gross, and there's just nobody else. Anyway, in the midst of talking about his appearance in "Spamalot" and the origin of "Rocky Horror," she got him talking about his singing. I learned something I did not know, that boy sopranos, gifted with that clear beautiful voice in youth, often grow up to have no singing voice at all -- that would be me. His singing coach, trying to get him into a falsetto, asked if he had been a boy soprano, and told him, "You're in mourning for that sound, aren't you?" Something I had never thought about, and yet there it is. Interesting.

Can you believe it?

One of the reasons I like looking at the search requests that bring people to my sprawling set of unrelated sites (weblog, several photologs, genealogy, and rollerblading guide to the Capital District) is that it sometimes amazes me that I even said the words that bring people here. But, yes, in fact, I did once say "perception of Hungary," which strikes me, as many things do, as an EXCELLENT name for a band. Either brash '80s commie rock or something enviro or trancey. In either case, not a band I would listen to, but they're welcome to use the name. For a fee.

I've been collecting random search requests that have brought people to my site, and intend to string them together into a poem. Here's what I've got so far:

The purpose of dollsthings made of nylongetting rid of urban possumswild angels ride tonightmineville new york minecreeps & waffles colombiatonya harding using le scissorspet sematary hamstringdorks on sledshaiku about sleds

Skiing was like you wouldn't believe Sunday -- fresh, thick snow everywhere, lots of bumps but they were fun bumps. We even skied the trees. There is nothing for your focus like a tree in your way. Makes you ski really well.

Nothing against the Irish, but I do wish St. Patrick's Day would stop interfering with my life. First, my elder daughter was born on it, something which should strike fear into the heart of any parent who knows what goes on at college. Second, for years the Albany St. Patrick's Day parade (not held on St. Patrick's Day, I'll note) would thoroughly mess up my access to swim lessons for the girls on Saturday morning. This year, they moved it to the afternoon, so it thoroughly messed up my access to ballet school open house (pictures here) -- no parking anywhere, and after I dropped everybody off, I had to go miles out of my way to get back into the neighborhood. Then on Sunday, we stopped off at our favorite restaurant in Bennington, and guess what kind of celebration was going on? It meant a limited menu mostly consisting of corned beef, listening to the hordes in the bar sing "The Unicorn" in a very shaky key, and as a bonus, my girls got to see their first drunken injury carried out on a stretcher!

If you click on it over to Flickr, you'll find it's annotated.

If you see only one free, online, low-budget independent film featuring a man in a life-or-death chase with a remote-controlled model car, make this the one!

I want to live in the space between the doors at the grocery store. Because it is about 85 degrees there. I know we had a warm November and winter came late, but right now that's a distant comfort and I've had just about enough. I want to be warm again.

So, imagine one foot is sliding on ice, but the other one is slogging through wet cement. Now take the temperature down to 15 (fahrenheit, my Canadian friends), cue the howling wind, and you've got a pretty good idea of what skiing was like yesterday. There was plenty of snow, but it had all been blown off the trails. Tops of crests were all sketchy, and the powder you could find was all very very dense. I asked a guy what Free Fall -- the only diamond I do at Mount Snow -- was like, and he pronounced it, "Weird." He said people were doing it once and not doing it again. I am all about the better part of valor, so I gave it a pass. But I did find one of my favorite trails open for the first time this season, and since it is surpassingly narrow there is nowhere for its snow to blow, and in fact it was deep in piles of crud and fantastically fun and hard work to get down, so I blasted through that one four times before calling it a day. I went like an amateur, which I paid for, deciding to put off lunch and just get all my skiing in first. Dumb. I bonked seriously, despite a packet of Gu and much hydration. Dumb, dumb, dumb. No idea what I was thinking. Anyway, by the end, I had a better time than I had expected, but really, I just don't need to go when there's been three days of wind.

Stopped at the Y on the way home to soak my legs, which were sore (haven't been doing my stretches). Was tempted by the sign that declared the big pool is finally back up to temperature, but after freezing my face off all morning, decided the hot tub was the only place for me.

Heard from an old old friend from college days, which was a real pleasure. We were tight for a couple of years, and in fact he put us up when we were apartment-less for a month early in our marriage, and taught me the importance of nightly ice cream. I still have a bunch of pages of old college and high school photos up with people's full names on them, so occasionally when they Google themselves, they find me -- not what I intended, but a nice benefit.

Greetings from the place where it is 8 degrees F and highly windy, though not quite as bad as last night when I really had some concerns that some piece of the house might come loose. Seriously windy. Schools did an odd thing yesterday -- despite the fact that it was snowing hard on top of rain that had turned to ice, they did not close. At least not in the morning. For the afternoon, they closed. This morning, we were supposed to go to the high honors breakfast (the top 6 in each team in each grade get special recognition), but the delay means that's off. A shame, because Hannah basks in the praise, and deserves it, she works so hard.

Stupidly, I made it to a doctor's appointment yesterday despite the absolutely miserable driving conditions. I had the little car, not the 4-wheel drive truck, and its sole redeeming factor is that it's very light and has ABS so you can stop a skid quickly. (When we bought it, the salesman tried to talk us out of ABS, which he was never going to be able to do with me, but oddly, this model of Mazda only has ABS if you also get the moonroof, and they were harder to find. So make a phone call for your commission, buddy -- I'm not getting a car without ABS.) There were a number of hills in Troy that were just miserable to get up, and the final hill to our house was the usual challenge. It's steep, curves and dips all at once, and to get up it my wheels were spinning pretty wildly and were pointed completely to the left just to keep me going semi-straight. Plus, the wipers were completely useless, so it was an entertaining drive the whole way. (It was a makeup for an appointment I should have had in September.)

Didn't ski last weekend because everyone was a little sick, but Bek and I went for a nice snowshoe hike at Peebles Island, which is still the rare treasure in winter that it used to be (its development has left it too popular in summer for my tastes). We tromped through the woods for a while, then got onto a trail and walked out to the lowest set of falls. It was snowing kinda hard, hard enough I wished we'd brought our goggles, but we still covered some ground, and the hiking was sweet.

From the Church of What's Happening Now:

1. 6th Grade '50s Dance -- The girls are running around in the best approximations of '50s skirts they can dredge up, and lots of scarves. Hannah had a shirt with a poodle on it -- we figured, "Poodle skirt, poodle shirt -- one letter difference." The next-to-last song is "1985," a catchy little number by Bowling For Soup that the kids all love and which has nothing to do with the '50s or the Aughts, but the last number is "We Go Together" from Grease, which prompts Hannah to run out of the gym and demand that we must have both the movie and the soundtrack.
2. Presidents -- The Presidents of the United States of America, a forgotten band whose "Pure Frosting" disc both we and the kids, then much younger, played an awful lot about 6 or 7 years ago. An energetic cover of "Video Killed the Radio Star," "Lump," "Old Man on the Back Porch" and of course the Drew Carey Show theme, "Cleveland Rocks." Last night's weak joke: What do they show at the Cleveland Geological Society? I got nothing but groans.
3. You'll Never etc. -- Many many years after it actually came out, I finally got around to reading Julia Phillips's "You'll Never Eat Lunch in this Town Again." I think she could and easily should have replaced "Eat Lunch" with "Do Blow." Apparently there were a lot of drugs in the entertainment industry in the '70s. Did you know that? I did not know that. It's entertaining, at least, but I can't help but feel a little dirty wasting brain cells on it.
4. Smashed: The Story of a Drunken Girlhood -- I'll have to write more about this once I'm further into it, but I picked up a copy for the train the other day, and so far, it's brilliant. Brilliant. And scary. But this is a girl who really understood her love of the bottle. (Syracuse enters into it, which is what pricked up my ears when I heard her interviewed. Which leads to . . . .)
5. Lucky -- I can't tell you how many times I've picked up this book with the intention of buying and reading it. I have heard her interviewed many times, I understand the story, and I think it's probably an important book. But every time, I simply cannot get over the fact that her terrible rape took place in what was one of my favorite places in Syracuse, the amphitheater in Thornden Park. It was a place that, in the depths of my own desperate love of the bottle, sometimes reminded me that there was a healthy, fun world of sunshine and grass that I ought to be checking out. We used to go into the amphitheater often to play frisbee or, even better because its scale was just perfect, wiffleball. We played many long wiffleball games there in Syracuse's fickle springs and hot, humid summers, and I really loved that place. And reading about what happened to her there is just impossible for me. Sorry, Alice.
6. Coupling -- This is quite simply the funniest television comedy ever. Ever. That they tried to ruin it by making an American version (with the inevitable, pointless comparisons to Friends) does not matter. These are the original British shows, and there is nothing funnier. BBCAmerica plays them, if you get that.
7. Survivor -- Stephenie is my new Ami.
8. Bicycling is coming! And I'm sure my regular readers couldn't be more thrilled. Listen, you'll take my endless talk of skiing and biking and like it, see? Two buyer's guides came this week, whetting my appetite. The Cyclysm begins on OLN on Sunday, with Lance racing Paris-Nice, the first Spring classic. And, I got my new wheels assembled, and if it weren't 19 degrees out, I'd be on them right now!
9. Viewers love legs -- Lee's legs (the 1984 vintage) are now my most-viewed photographs at Flickr, edging out the girls at the Hall of Fame.
   
10. Not to wish my life away, but I am totally living for the weekends these days.

Courtesy of spouse:

Insurgents reject offer, ruling power refuses negotiations East Greenbush, New York March 1, 2005 LuAnne Princess, reporting Ruling power forces offered a "clean room" for television deal early today. Half of the so-called "minority" forces accepted the deal. They have been permitted near-unlimited access to both television and play station. However, a 15-minute-violin per 45-minutes of play-station agreement is being observed. Minority forces are so called because they are all under the age of 18. The other half of the minority forces have rejected the clean room for television deal, rejecting the offer as "unfair". Said one source, "I always have to do something before I can do anything." This statement has a ring of truth to it, as laundry had to be put away before outdoors could be enjoyed. However, all minority parties were able to achieve laundry success and enjoy a good 2 or more hours in today's snowfall. Forts were built. Ruling forces have refused to negotiate the television deal, saying, "I don't care if your colored pencils are all over the room. They have to be picked up before there is any television. This holds true for the Amazing Race, as well." Baking was not affected by the clean room offer, and Monkey Bread will be enjoyed by all parties at supper time.

Well, there's not a hell of a lot of snow out there, but schools have been closed, so spouse gets to spend another day bonding with her precious daughters. I can't get any kind of a consistent prediction out of the weather sources -- there's only a couple of inches out there, despite steady snow since 10 p.m. We were supposed to get 10-12. So the question is, do I go out and snowblow the driveway now, because it's nearly over, or do I let spouse do it later during her bonding exercise? Because right now it's hardly worth it.

Of course, there's at least 6 inches of new snow at Mount Snow. I'm hoping it just keeps building during the week like it's supposed to, because I just can't skip out and hit the slopes. Darned responsibility!

Speaking of snow, the pool at the Y has been broken for a couple of weeks now, and the temperature has slowly descended to what can no longer be considered tepid -- 76 degrees. It could be worse, but that was a little brisk last night. It was all right as long as one kept swimming, but if it gets any lower, we're gonna need our skates. On the up side, there was no one there, so I got to freeze in a lane all by myself.