So every weekday for the last six weeks or so, this car has been driving by the house and honking twice. It happened for about a week before I really started to look for it. Each morning, right about 7:15, a golden colored sedan drives by and honks.
This morning, put a chair into the driveway, right behind the van and waited. After about five minutes, I could see her rounding the corner and then she honked.
As it turns out, my mystery honker has a personalized license plate: MS SUNBM. Now that I have a name (of sorts), I am going to make a sign for the front yard asking MS SUNBM to kindly stop honking.
It is possible that she is honking at the neighbors, I don’t know. I suppose I really don’t care if she wants to honk as she goes by, but I would like to know why.
I saw this on woot today. Great song. Great reason.
I’ve have been busy studying for the CFA exam that happens in about 11 months. I have been trying (and succeeding) in doing study blitz to get a lot of work done in a short time. Just trying to make it a habit. It is working so far. Once that is down pat I will hit the blogging trail again.
Props to my sister Joy who finished her first triathlon last weekend. Visit her blog for the not so gory details. Good job Joy. Leela Joy says she is proud to be named after you.
For those of you who know me, you know that I have a particular affinity for the band Rush. I first heard about Rush when I was a sophmore in high school. I was dating a flute player at the time, so I started hanging out in the band room. All of the drummers listened to this band called Rush. I started listen to the group and I really liked them. I got to know one of the drummer pertty well, Jim, and he lent me a video of a Rush concert called A Show Of Hands.
I took the video out to my car and started reading the back of the VCR box. That was when I read that Rush was comprised of just three guys. I was really impressed that three guys could make such complex music. The more I listened to them, the more I liked them. Their first album, self-title Rush was relased when I was four months old. They relased their 19th original album, Snakes and Arrows last year. The style of music has changed through the years, but it all carries the same spirit that makes it fun to listen to.
Of all the people I know who have heard Rush, I can put them all into one of two camps: I Love Rush or I Hate Rush. (I am sure that I have met some people who are luke warm, that doesn’t make for a good blog post. So I’ll follow the general example set by the government (all of them, not just the current) and pretend that they don’t exist so I can make my point much, much more dramatic that it really is.) There is also a nearly perfect correlation bewteen love and hate and musician, not musican. I think you have to be a musician to really appreciate what they do. Just like being a writer enhances your ablity to discern great writing.
This year marks the 20th year that I have been a Rush fan. I hope to teach my kids how neat Rush is. I don’t care if they don’t like Rush, but I will teach them to appreciate Rush.
Ladies and Gentlmen, hidden cameras are everywhere. Just tonight I was wearing one while traveling in the New Gugahan Proviance, just south of the South Pole. While there, I encountered a young, innocent looking gal, a mere babe. Or so I thought.
As is my normal modus operandi in these situations, I located the babe in question and proceded to taunt her. I started off with the usual remarks:
Wow you’re fat. Are you storing nuts for the winter in those cheeks?
No teeth, eh? Ever heard of a toothbrush?
You suck.
I see you are balding at your age. Shame.
So you just couldn’t get to number 715. Weakling. (Babe Ruth only)
If you don’t stop putting your feet in your mouth people are going to think you are a six month old.
Well, as usual, my taunting and name calling prompted this gal to strike. I turned on the camera just as the attack began. As you can see, I had truly met my match.
Now I lie here, broken and bruised. It was the head-butt that finished me off.
Sorry for the long absence, but I have not been feeling particularly inspired lately so I took a break. It would be a shame if I were to pump out poor quality posts just to fill pages. My loyal readers are used to only the highest quality posts. On that note, did you hear that the ghost of Elvis married another ghost?
Personally, I was shocked. How could he do that to all of us loyal, living fans. Whatever.
Noelle was in a her annual talent show at school. Here is the video.
It is really neat to see Noelle perform like that. The best part is that she does not even seem nervous. There were other kids who did similar acts, but none of them did it with her verve.
Tonight we are enjoying a rare Sacramento thunderstorm. The kids think it is great. I don’t ever remember having these storms when I was growing up. Curse you global warming!
I am will be continuing my ‘This is my life’ section, with 1980-83 on deck. Highlights include a six week trip to Kentucky, my first grade graduation and the time I boiled water to make tea and managed to trip while holding the pan and scaled myself. All this and more, next time, on Fermatd.
I got our taxes done. That was fun. We are even getting a little bit of green back. Work is going well. We are not really seeing an improvement in the economy, but we aren’t seeing a decrease either. I’ll take that.
The matriarch of the family will be in town for a few days. It has been over two years since I have seen her, so I am looking forward to the visit. Ralphie will be in town for three weeks. As usual, we are excited about that.
Joy has raised 2,605 of her 3,900 goal. If you can, please donate to her cause. You can check out her blog at birdtribird.wordpress.com for a link to her fund-raising site.
The blog bug is currently napping while I draft new topics. I usually go a few months without much and then explode for a month or so.
Ok, on with the show.
There are six people in my house. Two thirty-somethings and four crumb snatchers. Between the six of us, we fill 1 60 gallon garbage can a week. Now that might sound like a lot, but a 60 gallon can is the smallest they have for the county. Each week I roll this thing out the curb and I am happy to know that there is still room. What is the secret? What about the rest of the waste of the house?
Let’s look at the kinds of waste generated. First there is green waste. These are food and compostable items. Next are the recyclables. Paper, plastics and glass. Finally, there solid waste. This is the stuff that ends up in the garbage can.
My compost pile in the backyard offers mute testimony to the amount of compostable items that we generate. In boy scouts we had sign in the mess hall that read, ‘We Support Zero Ort’. For the uninitiated, ort is food waste. We don’t like to have any, but it happens.
The recyclables make up the majority of the volume of things that leave the house. Cans, bottles, jars, paper and plastics go into a can in the kitchen and then out to the curb twice a month. That is a 90 gallon can and there is rarely room.
The rest is stuff that is not safe to compost or is not recyclable.
So take some time and evaluate what comes in and what goes out of your home. You’ll be surprised.
On his trip to Africa, Pope Benedict XVI commented that condoms do not help decrease the spread of AIDS, but rather, increases the spread. He has come under a lot of fire for that comment. Let’s look at what he said…
“You can’t resolve it with the distribution of condoms…On the contrary, it increases the problem.”
The basic argument against the Holy Father is that how can you possibly say that something that is scientifically proven to slow or stop the spread of AIDS increases the problem? Fair question.
The pope was not making a scientific statement about the efficacy of condoms. His role in the world is not to comment on the scientific validity of anything. His job is to comment and teach in matters related to faith and morals. Almost everything thing that comes out of his mouth must be understood in that context, so when the pope says that condoms do not help the AIDS epidemic and that they in fact make it worse, you need to understand that comment in the context of a teaching on faith and morals.
The Catholic Church has always taught the contraception (contra-conception) is always wrong. (For the purposes of this post, I am going focus this comment on Africa, rather than attempting to take on the whole spectrum of contraception and relationships.) The sexual act is a sacred and special thing. It is a union that brings forth life and it must be given the same respect as life itself. To think that you can stop the spread of AIDS without recognizing the gravity and fundamental nature of the sexual act that spreads AIDS is delusional.
It is like giving people guns and telling them to be careful. Then, after someone is shot and dies you give everyone body armor.
Distribution more condoms will not stop the spread of AIDS. It will send the message the behavior that spreads AIDS is acceptable. ‘Don’t worry! We’ve got your back! Go nuts!’. Notice I say ’spreads’ AIDS. A monogamous relationship will not spread AIDS any further than that relationship. And a relationship that is monogamous from the start and is exclusive between the couple will never introduce an infection because of the life giving act.
It is very unfortunate that the first reaction to a message that people do not agree with is to make derogatory statements about both the person and the message. Most everyone would accrue much more respect and understanding if they simply stopped, for however brief a moment, and consider the entirety of what is said.
The most interesting thing about this controversy is the fact that it is very difficult to put your hands on the entire quote. After much digging, I finally found it. Here it is:
“It is my belief that the most effective presence on the front in the battle against HIV/AIDS is precisely the Catholic Church and her institutions. I think of the Community of Sant’ Egidio, which does so much, visibly and invisibly to fight AIDS, of the Camillians, of all the nuns that are at the service of the sick.
“I would say that this problem of AIDS cannot be overcome with advertising slogans. If the soul is lacking, if Africans do not help one another, the scourge cannot be resolved by distributing condoms; quite the contrary, we risk worsening the problem. The solution can only come through a twofold commitment: firstly, the humanization of sexuality, in other words a spiritual and human renewal bringing a new way of behaving towards one another; and secondly, true friendship, above all with those who are suffering, a readiness – even through personal sacrifice – to be present with those who suffer. And these are the factors that help and bring visible progress.
“Therefore, I would say that our double effort is to renew the human person internally, to give spiritual and human strength to a way of behaving that is just towards our own body and the other person’s body; and this capacity of suffering with those who suffer, to remain present in trying situations.
“I believe that this is the first response [to AIDS] and that this is what the Church does, and thus, she offers a great and important contribution. And we are grateful to those that do this.”
Now do you see what I mean by context? Was this a scientific statement, or a moral statement?
What the statement is saying is that if people do not help each other overcome the AIDS epidemic, then passing out condoms will not do any good. In fact, if you make condom distribution the front line, you are going to make the problem worse because you are not teaching people to act in a way that shows love.
Please remember this post the next time you feel the need to react without thought and research.
As I promsied earlier, I am going to start bloging about my life. Here goes.
The 70s
I was born, at a very early age, in a sleepy little bedroom community on the outskirts of Sacramento. My father owned a plumbing supply store and my mother was a nurse turned stay at home mom. My older brother preceded my arrival by several years and he was none too happy about having to share momma, or so I’m told. My mother and brother were always very close, so my intrusion into their circle was bound to be disruptive.
My first real memory is from when I was between two and three. We were all in the backyard and my brother was hunting paper turkeys with a toy archery set. I remember him wearing a pilgrims hat and that the turkeys were set in big juniper bushes.
My second memory is from little later in life. I am not sure how old I was, but I think it was between three and four. I was in our next door neighbors yard and I walked up to a big white German Sheppard. His name was Tyson. I said ‘I love you, Tyson!’ and he proceeded to reward my affections by removing most of my scalp. I rolled around on the grass yelling, ‘Fireman! Fireman!’ because I seemed to know that is was you were supposed to do. A quick trip to the ER, a hundred or so stitches and some plastic surgery, and I was as good as new. One particularly odd experience was that I remember watching myself run to my mom in the hospital. It was like I perched where a security camera would be and I could watch the whole thing. I am fairly sure I was not running anywhere afterwards.
Next I remember riding the bus to kindergarten. Every morning I would walk about ¼ mile to my bus stop on the corner Star and Camellia. As a parent, I could never imagine sending my five year old son that far on his own. Times have certainly changed. Our bus driver was an older African American man who liked to joke about stopping at Kentucky Fried Chicken whenever we dropped some off on Kentucky Street. It was not until years later that I found out it was Kentucky Street, so the joke never made sense to me until then.
I went John Holst elementary, which is now closed. My teacher was Mrs. Nightingale . We did circle time and learned shapes. For some reason I vividly remember learning about ovals. On our birthday we got to choose two or three friends to go to the school kitchen to help make carrot cake. Each kid got to drop one stick of butter into the pan.
After kindergarten, my parents decided to put me in a transitional grade instead of sending me straight to first grade. My teacher was Mrs. Flemming. Every year for our birthday, she would put on an obnoxious amount of lip stick and gives a big kiss on the cheek. Again, I could only image what people would do these days if that happened at school.
One day, Mrs. Flemming needed to write a note home. Being an adult, she wrote it in cursive. I tried to read the note on the way home, but was unable to since I could not read cursive. I concluded that cursive was a code that adults used when then wanted to communicate with each other but not have the kids understand the message.
That year I also created a silhouette of my head by shining an overhead projector light on the wall and having Mrs. Flemming trace the shadow. The picture was then transferred to a piece of black on construction paper and x-acto knifed and put on a piece of baked clay with a clay flower. The picture had a very nice cowlick, which I cut off a few years later. Looking back, I wish I had kept it. It added character. Especially since Sammy sports one of his own now.
Now that I have kids who are old enough to remember what happens to them, I am always careful to make sure they are memories worth having. Not that they are all good memories, but memories that will shape and guide them through life.
Sorry for the extended break. I have been doing a lot of developing over the last few weeks. For starters, I am working on a series for the blog that is like a life story. I have been reading Tim Russert’s book, Big Russ and Me, and I am inspired to do a little writing about myself.
Second, I am in the process of moving my WordPress account from the basic web-based to a domain-based platform. That will allow me to pay less for my e-mail and play around with some ads to play for the thing. I am hoping to have that rolled out in mid to late April.
Today is Saint Patrick’s Day. I remember when I was working at Wyndham Consumer Finance some folks in accounting were throwing a Saint Patrick’s Day party. They were looking for trivia questions, so I gave them a few that were Catholic based. The primary organizer got a somewhat distasteful look and and stated, ‘I think we should leave Catholicism out of this.’ To which I replied, ‘Then you shouldn’t be celebrating ‘Saint Patrick’s Day, should you…’
It’s somewhat comical to me, that in our increasingly secular society, we loose sight of the fact that so much of our history is based on religous ideas and people. The two largest cities in California, as well as its capitol, are named in honor of Mary, St. Francis of Assisi and the Blessed Sacrament.
Los Angeles: El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles de la Porciúncula (The Village of Our Lady, the Queen of the Angels of Porziuncola). ’Our Lady’ being the Blessed Virgin Mary.
As you enjoy your beer and beef (or in my case, beer and yummy raw food something. I don’t know yet), try to give some thought to those who went before you and try to consider the impact you will have on others.
As is my standard practice, I have followed up last months blogging binge with a blogging hangover. There has been a lot going on lately keeping my away from the keyboard. Ralphie and Steve were down for a visit. Casey’s computer died and I had to reload the OS and all the programs. My company laid-off 300 workers and I sat around wondering if I would be one of them. I wasn’t. My prayers go out to those who did get laid off. Having been through it just last year, I know it is never easy. I had an old friend and his family from high school over and we had a great time. It’s nice to know that he is still a great guy. His wife and kids are great, too. I always breathe a sigh of relief whenever I come across good kids.
Not having blogged for a while, I have found myself developing thoughts more than that writing them. This was due in large part to the then-impending job cuts. There is a sobering feeling that accompanies an event like that, though I don’t have to say that. Your lively hood usually depends on someone else’s decision and that is always a little unsettling. It’s nice to be the ‘master’ of your destiny, but it’s always important to remember that you are never really are. It’s nice to pretend sometimes.
Driving by Braille is a term my friends and I used when we were driving after we had perhaps a bit too much to drink. The idea was to let the driver side wheels run on the center road dividers. That way you knew you were driving with the road. In reality, it didn’t work like that. I spend a lot of my life driving by Braille, but in a more philosophical sense.
Leela is going to be baptized next week. We are all looking forward to that very special occasion as she is joined the Body of Christ. All sorts of family and friends will be in town for it. Should be a very good time.
I bought a new Bluetooth headset, so I can call my friends and family again.
