The end of my salad days as a youth in the great Midwest. How many afternoons I spent awaiting glory and disaster while sitting in front of Wide World of Sports. I haven't flown since about 1978, when I was 12 or 13 years old, but tonight...I could of cleared a bus, if I had one. Upon hearing the news I grabbed a plank, a stool, some boxes, an 11-years old's bicycle and headed out into the dusk to fly once more; it couldn't wait until tomorrow. Tribute.
RIP Evel.
I remember an entry earlier this year about the bus girls checking out each other’s fashion every time the 401 stopped and some gal the walked up the aisle towards an exit: heads swiveling, eyes glaring. It seemed a combination of both fashion grading and fashion idea theft. In order to present both sides of the sexual agenda I need to rat out the guys – at least the Metro train drivers. I suspect that the bird watching occurs primarily during the morning and evening rush hours as the flocks move in heel-tottering, well coiffed formation. I also believe that the actual Metro station has a lot to do with the view – those stations with the exits/escalators toward the head of the train provide the greatest cinematic pleasure. For those beyond the Metro confederacy, here’s how trains manage passenger exit (first) and entry (second). The train doors open upon arrival at the station and herds of folks pile out as new herds pile into the oft-packed cars. The drivers, after a few seconds in the station, open the platform-side window of their cockpits and stick their heads out in order to look down the platform so they have a basic idea of when the crowd has managed to complete boarding. Once everyone seems on board they trigger some switch in the cab, while still looking out the window, and signal a warning before the doors close and the train begins to pull out of the station. I know that’s a long description but it’ll come in handy. Any number of drivers during the morning rush spend a little extra time looking down the platform because they’ve spied hottie who’s exited three cars down and is waggling her little self towards the escalators located near the front of the train. I can tell you with absolute certainty that those long(er) stops in some stations can be confirmed by verifying the escalator location. If you happen to be getting off a train and heading towards the front you could simply catch a glance at the driver and you’ll easily find who he’s looking at – and he’ll look until he gets a walk-by, full view and all. Of course, he doesn’t have carte blanche on girl watching – anyone beyond three train cars isn’t get the eye…he doesn’t have that much time. I can’t really blame the drivers. If I spend a good part of my day in and out of the tunnels under D.C. and the greater metro area I’d need some fresh air and scenery. I’m just saying.
The Minnesota Vikings head coach says he’s going to continue using two running backs even as super rookie Adrian Peterson returns from injury this week. There are some good reasons to share the workload, and I don’t disagree in theory, but the excuse he’s giving is this – they don’t want to risk him getting injured again. Right. This brings to mind a great book / great problem called Fermet’s Last Theorem. The book, about the problem, is a grand yarn involving a mathematical theorem that us normal folk can actually understand. Fermet, an amateur math genius from back yon, put forth the following: for a3 + b3 = c3 (those are cubes) there are no whole numbers to make the equation true. Same idea as Pythagoras but with the mysterious threes included – “it’s a magic number.” As later mathletes attempted to prove this theorem they ante up the idea that the variables couldn’t be odd numbers (or even numbers, I can’t remember) so they could basically eliminate the search by half…all the odds (or evens). Of course they realized shortly thereafter (probably within minutes) that since we believe in infinity there was, in actuality, no reduction in possible numbers to test: infinite odds and infinite evens. I love that story. Anyhow, back to football. Since most injuries - particularly knee injuries - occur on freak plays and poor footing during a violent sport, cutting a players actions from 40 to 20 doesn’t really change the odds of him getting hurt. Are we assuming that freakish plays and injuries only happen on odd or even downs? Just wondering.
I’ll leave everyone alone.
T.
Laurel was here for the Thanksgiving weekend and we managed two days out that completely confounded my planning. I imagined that Friday on the Mall would be a good idea since I didn’t imagine many visitors to D.C. for Thanksgiving and I envisioned all the locals out shopping. Bad idea. For the record, this was the first time I’ve stood in line at museums since I’ve live here – and that includes the height of the summer tourist flockings. We had the best luck at the Museum of Art since not many kids enjoy strolling around art museums. We did the zoo yesterday and I planned on being a small cog in a huge wheel but the place was near empty. The weather was glorious and all animals were out playing in the mid-50s, beaming sunshine, Sunday afternoon. Absolutely the best day spent wandering around and chatting. She’s back in Omaha after her evening flight last night and should be sitting in school listening intently to an Algebra or German lesson.
Thanksgiving Day turned out just fine – turkey, cranberries, deviled eggs (argh!), stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, gravy, biscuits, pie x 2, and whatnot. The two most important things I learned from my first full-frontal attack on a T’giving meal are these: you’ll be cooking all day and you need a solid plan and, a big 11 lb. turkey breast is all you need for a whole lot of people. An 11 lb. breast with all the other deadweight elsewhere ends up providing about 10 lbs. of meat. The dark meat loving folk might give you a hard time but they can always be uninvited.
So, Trent Lott is re-elected to his Senate seat last year and now decides that he has other stuff he wants to pursue and will leave office “by the end of the year”? Interesting. The Governor will get to appoint someone to serve the remaining five years of his Senate term. There also seems to be some little law that says former congressmen must wait two years from leaving office to become lobbyists – unless, they leave office prior to the end of this year and then they’re grandfathered in to the older one year waiting period. Good work Trent! (chest thump!)
That’s all for now. Still getting back to real life after the long weekend.
T.
Based on the poverty levels established by the Federal Government, a family of four earning double the poverty level (the mysterious and evil 200% number) would be looking at numbers much like these below. Of course, those who were so infuriated at SCHIP or health insurance reform can only see 200% and/or the $41,200 income per year for that family of four – the $41,200 that is published by the government as a part of the poverty tables; I wonder why? Here we go…
After taking out federal income tax ($7,000/year), Virginia state income tax ($2,117/yr), and FICA / social security ($3,150/year), we end up with about $2,421 brought home per month. The family of four sits down and runs a pretty conservative budget:
$1,000 rent for a two-bedroom apartment (the kids sleep in one room)
$300 for family of four health insurance premiums
$600 for food
$200 for clothing fund and activities for children
$100 for both parents to the ride the Metro buses five days a week (roundtrips)
Total expenses: $2,200
Leftover: $241/month
We haven’t included utilities (another $100-$150/mo.?), dental insurance, they don’t have a car (no gas, no insurance), telephone service – no kids running around with cells, no vacations, co-pays on health insurance, Christmas presents, or any other niceties. Nothing. That $241 will be gone when we eventually pay for heat, water, and dental care. No investments. No IRAs, no savings for retirement. What exactly is unclear about just how much money it takes to live a very simple and basic existence? No credit card debt, nothing owed, no money saved for college. The kids are walking to school or riding the bus. These numbers are for the 200% family – they toe the line and they still have absolutely nothing at the end of each month. If you need a little more to drive it home think about this: in order to bring home an income of $41,200 per year the two parents would each need to work 40 hours per week and earn $10.15/hour. That’s truth.
So, for all the Michelle Malkin followers, Fox News watching drones, Republican hardheads in congress, the President, and the Hummer driving, cell phone-toting, two-home owning, and vacation-taking screamers…please…shut up.
Sorry. I couldn’t help it.
T.
There are a bunch of scantily-clad model types on chorus risers – each fondling a silver briefcase. What do you do? Not only that, you’ve got crazy Howie Mandel freaking out in your face; you’ve got your crazy ‘family’ telling you to go just one more round. It’s amazing.
This isn’t so amazing. You can buy a hairbrush that runs $130...or you can take that buck-thirty and go elsewhere. Here’s what you get for that outlay…
$100 on the Patriots to cover the spread and beat the over/under over their first 10 games (they’ve done both for every game) ~ $2,240 after the book’s grease is removed.
18 bottles of my tea tree shampoo.
Eight-month membership with emusic.com (about 720 songs or 60 full-length CDs.)
One ticket to a Redskins game.
130 pints at $1 pint night. Tips not included.
About 35 minutes of X shopping at Nordstrom Rack.
4 tickets to the New Pornographers show at the 9:30 Club.
13 pair of Stephon Marbury’s new kicks.
26 weeks of the boys’ allowance.
Weekend lift ticket out around Tahoe.
One tank of fuel for a Hummer, maybe.
13 dime bags, officially speaking.
Two seasons of Deadwood on DVD.
In reverse – a day working the polls in Virginia.
23 tickets to the first concert I ever saw: Kiss and Uriah Heep at the Omaha Civic Auditorium in 1976 - $5.50 per.
One-fifth of the cost of X’s jumbo suite at the Silver Legacy (2004) in Reno. (I got a parking garage kiss for my troubles.)
Two trips to Whole Foods: four bags, total.
$130 on your SmartTrip card for the Metro.
26 weeks of the Sunday NYTimes, tax excluded.
21 Martinis (tip excluded) at the Metropolis in B’boro.
15 tickets of embarrassment at the theater in B’boro.
Some number or other of annual food for Sally Struthers' kids.
Nothing, if it’s an Oprah gift.
40 cans of San Marzano tomatoes – bingo!
9 months of Netflix.
You get the idea. Choices….as they say.
I’ve used the brush. It’s a damn nice brush – hair of spun gold.
"That's a damn good milkshake."
T.
I don't think I've made the pitch yet but I'm making it now. Buy reusable grocery bags at your nearest store. I'm about five years into this and I have absolutely no idea why anyone would use either the plastic or paper for groceries. Depending on where you shop they'll give you a refund for bringing your own bags. Wholes Foods gives you some like $.03, which is horribly pathetic considering the cost of gnosh at WFoods. My Organic Market (MOM) here in Virginia gives you $.10 on each bag - considering they only run $.99 to purchase they will pay for themselves right quick. But...I'll let everyone off on the financial aspect because it's not even close the main reason why you should get on board; actually, there are two. The first is that all those plastic bags are an absolute waste. The second is that after the first time you use five or six heavy, good quality bags with handles you will never go back to using anything else - they are fantastic. You've got choices - I'm giving you choices - money, environment, awesomeness. You will love me for this.
My next goal, after tracking driving and destinations within our 5km ring (another story), is to cease and desist with plastic water bottles. Maybe I'm late to the party on this one but I'll get there in the end. Just think of me getting lost en route, a trunk full of beer, and the party already smoking....I'll get there.
love to all.
t
There are two prominent events that seem to be clogging up the political landscape this week. I’m not much of a supporter of either of the two involved candidates but I find both yards full of screaming banshees completely off balance.
First, the planted question at a Hillary Clinton town hall meeting that took place somewhere in Iowa. Clearly, she has campaign workers ‘placing’ questions with audience members at Clinton rallies and tea parties. I find the practice distasteful because it shows that candidates, and their focus group mentality, aren’t confident enough to answer real questions. But, I’m also fairly confident that every other campaign participates in the same sort of shenanigans along these lines – she just got caught. What bothers me more is who brought this to the fore and her punishment escaped. The student who let the secret ‘slip’ is as poor a reflection on the American voter as it is on the politicians. Exactly what was her role in this malfeasance? I suspect that her thought process involved some desire to be ‘the one’ to hold a microphone and address a real live famous person – her integrity certainly wasn’t involved in workings of her brain gearage. How moronic do you look when you tell everyone that you simply asked a question that a guy in a blue suit told you to ask? If I’m at a political gathering and I’m thinking of asking a question about the electoral college, I’m certainly not going to change my question because some grad-school campaign volunteer pulls me aside and sweet talks me with some crap question. I suspect I might tell him to sod off.
Second, we’ve got the McCain lunch counter stop where a supporter asked him “how are we going to beat that bitch?” The supporter (a woman) was speaking of Hillary Clinton and McCain didn’t seem to have any immediate response – he was blindsided by the freak eating lunch and cursing another candidate. Is McCain responsible for the behavior of his wack-job supporters? In this case, probably not. Those who work in his campaign? Certainly. The video is really a reflection of absolutely nothing to do with politics and a candidate – it’s something of nothing. Unless she was a plant… (cue conspiracy music)
On the lighter side, here’s a video that X showed the boys last night. After watching a few other short skits by them I came to two conclusions: they are just fantastic; and, they will end up overexposed in commercials and various other media outlets.
T.
There are two prominent events that seem to be clogging up the political landscape this week. I’m not much of a supporter of either of the two involved candidates but I find both yards full of screaming banshees completely off balance.
First, the planted question at a Hillary Clinton town hall meeting that took place somewhere in Iowa. Clearly, she has campaign workers ‘placing’ questions with audience members at Clinton rallies and tea parties. I find the practice distasteful because it shows that candidates, and their focus group mentality, aren’t confident enough to answer real questions. But, I’m also fairly confident that every other campaign participates in the same sort of shenanigans along these lines – she just got caught. What bothers me more is who brought this to the fore and her punishment escaped. The student who let the secret ‘slip’ is as poor a reflection on the American voter as it is on the politicians. Exactly what was her role in this malfeasance? I suspect that her thought process involved some desire to be ‘the one’ to hold a microphone and address a real live famous person – her integrity certainly wasn’t involved in workings of her brain gearage. How moronic do you look when you tell everyone that you simply asked a question that a guy in a blue suit told you to ask? If I’m at a political gathering and I’m thinking of asking a question about the electoral college, I’m certainly not going to change my question because some grad-school campaign volunteer pulls me aside and sweet talks me with some crap question. I suspect I might tell him to sod off.
Second, we’ve got the McCain lunch counter stop where a supporter asked him “how are we going to beat that bitch?” The supporter (a woman) was speaking of Hillary Clinton and McCain didn’t seem to have any immediate response – he was blindsided by the freak eating lunch and cursing another candidate. Is McCain responsible for the behavior of his wack-job supporters? In this case, probably not. Those who work in his campaign? Certainly. The video is really a reflection of absolutely nothing to do with politics and a candidate – it’s something of nothing. Unless she was a plant… (cue conspiracy music)
On the lighter side, here’s a video that X showed the boys last night. After watching a few other short skits by them I came to two conclusions: they are just fantastic; and, they will end up overexposed in commercials and various other media outlets.
T.
The café that fills the role of food purveyor in my business casual building sells a sandwich with the moniker of - The Napolean. The ingredients are as follows: roast beef, turkey, bacon, Swiss cheese, lettuce, tomato, cole slaw and Russian dressing. Any ideas on why we’d call this combination of stuff 'The Napolean'? Is it the Russian dressing? Anyone?
I’ll give you a little Nebraska history and a great sandwich right here.
That could be a campaign slogan.
While standing at the 401 bus stop this morning I took account of people and their umbrellas. Even though there are still the standard types (of people and equipment), I sense a disturbing change in girth (of umbrellas) over the last few years. I first noticed it about a year ago when the Eleven came out into an evening rain after a Madeleine Peyroux show in D.C. Here’s a round-up of who you see on the umbrella catwalk on a rainy morning:
1. “Broken umbrella but saving money guy” – There is a reason that any person who commutes in the great outdoors carries a broken umbrella: he’s a tightwad…or he’s #2. Call it two reasons. In order to verify it’s this guy you need look for baggies over his shoes, threadbare sports coat, and a Patriots hat with the old crouching Patriot logo. Now you’ve pegged a man that’ll live with this half-clothed umbrella splaying three broken, eye-piercing spikes that attack passersby.
2. “Broken umbrella / Crap! I forgot to get a new one guy” – The easiest way to separate this guy taxonomically from #1 is that he’s pissed off. I’ve been this guy, I know. You pull the broken down contraption from your bag (forgetting it’s a broken down contraption), try to pop it open, and it immediately does one of two things: collapses back on your head or snaps over into the inverted position. This commuter is now forced to either hold up the canopy with one hand or, determine the proper holding angle to maintain the reversal problem. This angle, if you must know, is neither wind or gravitationally influenced, it’s merely some concoction of hope and experience. In any case, he’ll be cussing just loud enough for you to hear. The #1 guy above will simply be ambling along quietly while reading a two year-old copy of Time magazine naming “You” as person of the year….and stabbing every other person in the face.
3. “Guy with his wife / girlfriend’s umbrella” – I’ve been this guy…all too often. The first thing that crosses your mind when you see Bob with Debbie’s umbrella is this: “My, that’s a lovely pink toile pattern with lavender highlights.” The problem with this mean thought is that it cuts a little too close to home. Both of us know that he’s walking quickly to the Metro station fully aware that he’s been cursed by this device. He knows! It was a simple choice that morning: get wet or look silly. We know wherein lies his decider-ness.
4. “Guy with no umbrella” – He’s the decider who counters #3. He looked out the window, saw the rain, knew he forgot to buy a new umbrella and decided right then and there to go commando. He’ll walk purposefully (and man-ily) the two blocks from his car to the station looking like President Bush when he strikes that cowboy pose in Texas. (Also know as the “it’s only water guy”)
5. “Guy with no umbrella but nice clothing” – Same problem as #4 but - he doesn’t do patterned umbrellas - yet there’s no way he’s getting his cashmere jacket and Johnston and Murphy shoes too wet. You’ll know him because he’s running like a sonnofabitch towards the sanctity of the station. He’ll dab his shoes dry with a shining cloth pulled from this Hugo Boss leather eurobag.
6. “Guy with folded up Express newspaper over his head” – First, he’s already ridden the Metro because he actually has the Express in his hand. That being the case, you only see this rare species en route from the station to either work or a bus. He may be running, he may be walking, but he definitely is curious looking and wet. He should be grouped with those that jog to catch a train – it’s ineffective and has no value. Needs to get together with the “it’s only water guy” and have chat.
7. “Golfer” – Here’s the newest problem in our world: golfers who bring their golf umbrella to the commute. If you haven’t seen a golf umbrella, simply think of anything way too big for its assigned purpose and conflate those characteristics onto an umbrella. Think of a Hummer. It’s not simply the idea that you’ve got something big enough to cover a city block that bothers me – it’s the fact that no other human can actually pass on either side of your enormous pagoda without being crushed against a wall or pushed into the river. The reason it’s called a golf umbrella is because you use it on a golf course: big, open spaces. It’s even better when there are two polo-shirted, pleated khaki wearing, Nike-branded Tiger Woods wannabes walking together along a six-foot sidewalk commiserating about their inability to play long irons from a shallow lie.
That’s my morning.
T.
It took a few weeks - not technologically, simply lazily - to put this little video up, but here it is. This is what happens when you hang a pinata from a tree at a birthday party and let the ooompah loompahs at it. Did I scream like that when I was young? The Eleven hung it up as the children were arriving and once they spied it across the courtyard they were on it like demons. They knew they'd have to wait but it was soooooo hard to simply paw and touch it....hard! Kids. Q. was a bit confused after it broke and all the loot came out; his desire was to beat something with a big stick. He's of an age, and psycho-state, where whacking things with a bat is much more chi inducing than picking a bunch of junkie toys from the grass. He's like that.
My one and only entry on Fantasy Football this season is two-fold. First, my team has battled into playoff position due to superior ownership and general managership. If you're wondering, I'm both. The team battled back from an 0-3 start and charged smartly to the upper echelons of the league. You may ask yourself this: if he's such a great owner/manager why did his team start 0-3? You'd be allowed that question but nevermind. The answer is clearly that I've overcome and adapted to the crazy evolution of this NFL season. Easy peasy. Seondly, MLB has filed suit to stop fantasy sites from using MLB names and statistics for fantasy baseball leagues unless MLB is renumerated. I don't know about the hot stove leagues but I will tell you that the NFL has become the behemoth that it is today because of fantasy sports. I think the NFL is more conducive to fantasy play, but MLB was the original product in the area. They are crazy if they cause an uproar in one of the areas that keep many a fan fully focused on the game. One man's opinion.
I'm off to look at my team. I need a great Seattle defensive and special teams performance tonight.
Love to all
t
Right-o.
Via keen sense of observation I've learned that X's mother (we'll call her Amy) is making her lovely daughter a throw, by hand, because she loves her. I haven't ascertained whether it was on offer or a matter of strong-arming by the eldest child; either way, it's getting done. There's been a mish-mish of yarn and skein discussion that seems to revolve around type and color of material - it's all completely foreign to me. What isn't foreign is the little banter between generations. This is the form it's taken as they've decided which skeins to purchase after the color / diplomacy relations. The color listing on the left is what Amy delivered for order; the right column is my beloved's list of the same "color":
blue - blue
gray - steel blue
russet - rust
brown - dark barley
maroon - purple
green - green
beige - beige
As if one could confuse a russet for a rust or a dark barley for a brown. I won't even try to explain how we've convoluted the gray for a steel blue.
I had two movies on Friday night while X was dropping the boys at Dulles for their trip to the Midwest. The second movie, The Holiday, which was intended as nothing more than fluff, was horrible. I meant for the second to be fluff because the opener was the documentary, No End in Sight. I really didn’t need any further evidence against this administration, and I figured on trudging through this like every other review of events, but it just smacked me in the head…hard. No real historical review will be needed of this group of simpletons.
It was an easy and quiet weekend.
T.
What I didn’t know, but learned while idly listening to some Senate voting today, is that the Water Resources Development Act marked only the 107th time a presidential veto had been overridden. That number is for the entire history of the country – 107. There have been 2,555 presidential vetoes overall – with FDR (655) and Cleveland (414) leading the way – so the percentage of success is only about 4%. Consider keeping that nugget under your derby for some quiz night at the pub in Boston. I would never have guessed the number to be so low. What other numbers are staggering (to me) that you need to know about? Glad you asked.
MLB no-hitters: 255
MLB players hitting for the cycle (single, double, triple, HR in a game): 276
MLB unassisted triple plays: 13
African-Americans elected to the U.S. Senate, history: 5
Women elected to U.S. Senate, history: 35
Number of HRs in Joe DiMaggio’s career: 361
Number strikeouts in Joe DiMaggio’s career: 369
Most strikeouts by a hitter in one year: 199
Most strikeouts in a career: 2,597
I think that’s plenty.
T.
Monday AM. X finally decided that in order to survive through Thanksgiving she had to do something dramatic with her laptop. All of her hoity-toity school work was inaccessible because the lil’ guy was having serious power issues. The battery has been inop for a quite awhile and the a/c power had become something of a fantasy over the last week or so. She hit the internet early and found a computer repair shop (or guy, as we discovered) here in Arlington that told her (very informatively at that) to bring it over because he knew just was it needed. The Sonys seem to have an issue with the solde near the power connection coming, as one would say, un-soldered. He e-mailed back that same afternoon, much to her dippity-dance happiness, and told her is was finished. We stopped over around 7:30p to pay-and-go with the newly repaired and cleaned computer. I like this guy: he runs the business out of his very neat office/basement, the bill was ready to go, the computer (with power cord) was on and running when we arrived, and he has a 30-day guarantee on any work he performs. I’d recommend him to anyone – and I better had. As I was waiting for the bill and details to be settled I took a little look around the outer office area and noted the only two pictures on display, and I am not making this up: a signed Patrick Stewart, and a signed Ghostsbusters cast 8 x 10. They call it a stereotype.
T.
Another 15 hours working the polls, this time for the Virginia State and Arlington County elections, has come and gone. The turnout in our precinct couldn’t have exceeded 15% - very disappointing for State Senate and House of Delegates elections. I know it’s not sexy but these chuckleheads have a much greater influence on people’s daily existence than most national elections. They control the state taxes, constitutional amendments, and voter districting. You only need to follow a little bit of Tom DeLay’s success in redrawing lines in Texas to understand the effects of state government. That’s my preaching for today.
Some keepers that floated by in the elementary school gym polling place is certainly in order. There was a very interactive father voting with his two children in tow. As he’s explaining the voting process and working the computerized voting machine, his about 7-year old son pipes up with “How about some Democrats!” How about some Democrats. I was assisting a gentleman who was legally blind and needed the ballot read to him. I started out at the top of the ballot with “for Virginia Senate district 31 you have: Mary Margaret Whipple, Democrat; Samuel…” He jumps in with “hit me with that Democrat!” He had no time for…things.
One gentleman was irate that the county board and school board nominees didn’t have party affiliations listed with each candidate, and he was more than willing to point out to me that it was clearly illegal. He filed a voter complaint/worry form to be forwarded to the Arlington voting ‘dictator’. I had noticed this party fact when I voted earlier in the day and determined that those positions are probably considered non-political and Virginia law no doubt covers the issue.
This was the second election I’d set the machine for a woman who completely mistrusts the electronic voting process. The county uses touch screen machines that maintain numbers of ballots cast per machine, votes for each candidate in each race, provides duplicate records that are forwarded to the county, the numbers are matched to the voter roll which is numbered by voter, by name, and verified with ID. The numbers accounting adds up. Of course, if the software is tampered with and every touch allegedly for Bob is being rung up as Joe, we’ve got problems. This particular voter tells me how distrustful she is of the electronic system – there’s no way it could really work – and my first thought is this, way are you voting if you believe the nuts-and-bolts of the system are dysfunctional?
From her we move to the paper trail woman who takes it to the next level. The paper trail isn’t completely clear to me. Do people want hardcopy of their vote to take home with them? A receipt from the machine? Their name associated with their vote? The machines have do a paper trail that takes a few hours to collate after the polls close. I think complaints often revolve around some lack of knowledge in how the machines work. There’s clearly no greater risk in electronic voting than there was in the days of ballot box stuffing in Daley’s Chicago. It’s the same fear that Bill O’Reilly carries for the ‘Internets’. Are there issue? Probably. Is it the evil that conspiracy theorists believe? Probably not. I like the idea of the paper ballot you can hold in your hand as a receipt when you leave the gym. If there are problems or questions after the election everyone can bring back their receipts and we can certainly recount from there…that’ll work.
The last memorable moment was when a woman standing in line for the M-Z last names leaned over to me (sitting at the empty A-L table) and said “where are your Republican voting cheat sheets?” The back story here is that the Northern Virginia area is a Democratic stronghold: immigrants, lower middle class, vibrant, exciting, interesting, and both young and old who see more than water boarding and overbearing administrations. Oops. The Democratic Party mans the outskirts of polling sites, legally, and passes out voting information and ‘cheat sheets’ for voters. If the young lady needed a Republican cheat sheet she’d need to head down way down state to find any. I didn’t say that to her…I merely pointed out that it was the party handing out literature, not the election officials.
I’m into Sacco and Vanzetti by Bruce Watson. Enlightening and frightening.
T.
After the party on Saturday we all jumped the Metro and headed to the Corcoran Gallery for the Ansel Adams and Annie Liebowitz exhibits (it was a two-for-one ticket purchase.) I skipped the Adams exhibit due to time constraints and spent my time in the Liebowitz rooms. I’ve read varying reviews on the show, it’s been to a few galleries before D.C., and a good many of the lay folk focus almost exclusively on the rock n’ roll aspect of her photography. There’s no doubt that her time at Rolling Stone influenced her ability to snag the famous people but it’s not always the actor/actress/singer/rocker subject that end up catching my attention. It’s a bit unfair to justify her success simply to the subject – she does have a great ability to bring us shots that show something much deeper in the eyes of the subjects. Her travel and world event photography is stunning (Rwanda, the Balkans) and deserves as much attention as the portraiture. My favorites from the exhibit were the Cash family (Johnny, June Carter, grandson, and Roseanne) on the porch of Johnny’s house (I know it’s rock n’ roll!); and the formal portraits of the Queen. I’m sure about the falling out she had with Elizabeth II during the shoot but the photo of the Queen in full regalia under a rolling sky is amazing. Another portrait that's frightening to me is the shot in the Oval Office from December 2001: Bush, Rumsfield, Card, Rice, Powell, Cheney, and Tenet. There's no way she said "say cheese" for this shot. It was probably more like "look normal" or "give me your jerk look". They all played along.
After the museum we walked north towards the Orange Line and a hopeful dinner. When heading north up 17th St. from the Corcoran you pass the Old Executive Office Building – that’s a picture up top, if you’re wondering. After a few hundred meters X turned to me and said, “that guy behind us just asked someone if that Old Office Building thingy was Victorian architecture. Can you believe that? What a wacko.” I looked back towards the building over my right shoulder, the sun setting, and thought, I’ve got no idea what kind of architecture that might be. What I say to her is, “What kind of fool! It’s amazing he can put one foot in front of the other and walk without falling over. Geez.” She then let me know that it’s clearly a Georgian building. Georgian! On Sunday morning I readdressed the architecture issue while we stared at a Victorian/Georgian building near DuPont Circle. What I’ve learned from her is this: if it looks like this picture, and it’s eatable, it’s Victorian.
This will someday earn you college credit on some exam. Thank me later.
T.
We managed to get G’s birthday in order on Saturday: cake, invites, balloons, helium, streamers, and pinata! Oh, and kids. I love piles of kids.
His haul of stuff from various folk consisted primarily of cash, gift cards, and Pokemon schwag. There has been resurgence (some might say a plague) of Pokemon in the commune over the last few weeks. The boys have gone wonky. H. picked out two massive, special packages of cards as a gift - they are apparently the Holy Grail containing lost cards of yore. I think I saw H. fighting off hordes near the collector card section of Target with nothing more than a whip and fedora. Who knows? The real question is this: what does a ready stash of money and a gift card really lead to? This: can we go to Target? Can we go now? How about now? Now? Target? Now? When can we go? I’ll get to that soon enough.
The Eleven rode our bikes to the Dupont Circle Farmers Market yesterday morning – blowing out the carb on her new, fancy bike. It’s about an hour-and-half roundtrip with flowers, veg, and other goodies as a break in the middle. We only end up riding on city streets for about a ¼ mile on either end of the bike path. Very nice. I toted home the goods in my trailer and managed to survive the double hills of death near the end our the ride. We’re planning on loading up the trailer with kit and riding out to the Maryland countryside for a camping experiment next weekend.
On to Target. After we get back from trying to revive X’s laptop yesterday I finally took the boys and their piles o’ loot to Target. It’s about a ten minute drive and the excitement in the backseat was beyond containment. I might as well have been toting around a couple of children speaking a foreign language; for some reason, they felt a burning desire to address me with plans, stories, and Pokemon history. Here’s a summary, see what you can do with it. Nevermind who’s actually speaking, it’s irrelevant…I didn’t even know.
“We need a Silcoon from the EX deck because his health in the Pearl series is the best. It’s wicked good to evolve into Cascoon. Oscar has a Wurmple, which we don’t have, but we’ve got a super deck that Henry built. I built it. Henry built it. It’s widely known that Oscar has the most powerful deck in all of Arlington. Mantyke, which we need evolves into a Mantine if we have Remoraid present in the trainer's party. Hey Todd. Do you know what we love about EX? Kadabra immediately evolves to a Fire Alakazam when traded, and Oscar will trade one. You know why I can get cards from Oscar? He pretends not to want something, like a Seadra, but he really does. Anyway. I pretend I don’t want it, either. My Dusclops can’t evolve to a Dusknoir during a trade unless I have the Reaper Cloth – I don’t have the Reaper Cloth. I always get the cards from Oscar in the end. We just got the Dubious Disc so we can trade the Porygon2 and get and evolved Porygon-Z tomorrow. I finally got my Bulbasaur to evolve…well it was Bulbasaur at level 16, now it’s Ivysaur….I evolved it finally, at level 32 to Venusaur. Are we there yet?”
Yes.
T
