Whilst awake and channel surfing the other night, I came across the 1995 version of Les Miserables. I had previously enjoyed both the 1998 version with Liam Neeson as Valjean and Geoffry Rush as Javert, as well as the 2000 version with Gerard Depardieu, so I had to see what this one had to offer. The spin is that it takes place in France as the Nazis are sweeping in, and Fortin/Valjean agrees to spirit away the Jewish Ziman family to freedom. I'm not sure which version I enjoyed more, but they were all very enjoyable and I recommend them if you're in to the classics.
I have come to enjoy subtitled movies, most notably The Count of Monte Cristo miniseries from 1998, again with the aforementioned Gerard Depardieu. The 2002 movie was decent, but I would totally watch the miniseries over the movie.
If I had to pick between the two stories, I would choose The Count over Les for sure. If you're a hater of all things French (Freedom Fries lovers need not apply) don't bother, if you are sophisticated and cultured (unlike me) go for it.
What literary classics do you enjoy on the big screen and/or idiot box?
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
The Origins of Dunkin' Donuts
Crows. Crows invented Dunkin' Donuts! OK, so technically they didn't create Dunkin' Donuts, but I think they may have been responsible for the concept of dunking bread products into liquids in order to soften them up before consuming them.
Several crows hang around our house, as they know I'm good for handouts of bread crusts and leftover sandwiches, among other culinary delights. I'm fairly confident it's not a murder of crows, just one or two pair of crows, perhaps mates? Anyhow, I recently cleaned out the little sandbox in our backyard, and Nik partially filled it with water. He's so helpful!
I noticed the crows landing on the sandbox, and assumed they were drinking or even bathing in it. But then I watched as one of them dropped a chunk of bread into the water, and then tore off a piece and ate it! And it dawned on me that here are these crows, taking chunks of dried/stale bread, and dipping them into water to soften them up in order to consume them. I'll be damned.
But then again, it shouldn't come as a huge shock, as I have previously read that crows are rather intelligent, and can even recognize individual faces on humans. I suppose I just thought it was cool to see these crows in action, doing something rather ordinary that I otherwise may have overlooked in the hustle and bustle of everyday life.
Several crows hang around our house, as they know I'm good for handouts of bread crusts and leftover sandwiches, among other culinary delights. I'm fairly confident it's not a murder of crows, just one or two pair of crows, perhaps mates? Anyhow, I recently cleaned out the little sandbox in our backyard, and Nik partially filled it with water. He's so helpful!
I noticed the crows landing on the sandbox, and assumed they were drinking or even bathing in it. But then I watched as one of them dropped a chunk of bread into the water, and then tore off a piece and ate it! And it dawned on me that here are these crows, taking chunks of dried/stale bread, and dipping them into water to soften them up in order to consume them. I'll be damned.
But then again, it shouldn't come as a huge shock, as I have previously read that crows are rather intelligent, and can even recognize individual faces on humans. I suppose I just thought it was cool to see these crows in action, doing something rather ordinary that I otherwise may have overlooked in the hustle and bustle of everyday life.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Clean Sheet, Perfect Night
At last! After all the planning, all the talk, the expectations, and a few predictable jabs from North American football fans (you know, the game where fat guys grab each other and fall down), Sounders FC played their first MLS regular-season game.
You could not have scripted this any better. The stands were packed with a sea of bright green jerseys, jackets, hats, and oh yes, scarves. The standard pre-first game pep talk from the suits (and plenty of boos for the guv). I think Drew Carey already has his playoff party booked. The band playing the old-school Sounders ditty (da dah dah, da dah dah...), the Sounders flags waving in the crowd, and the overall energy in the stadium. Oh, and the soccer horns - my wife hates them - there were plenty of soccer horns to be seen and heard.
The home team scores early, and it was all downhill for NY from there. The officials allowed a lot of contact, showed a few yellows, and took the usual amount of blame and abuse. Cap it off with a shutout, and sportswriters everywhere can bang out their "local boy comes home, pitches clean sheet" stories. Fans and owners go home happy, knowing that no matter what happens from here on out, they witnessed a magic night that cannot be taken away.
First of all, I would not have been there unless my friend Phil comes through and scores us free tickets to the match. Phil is a great guy - fellow footie nut, goalie, former co-worker at various shared stops including Nintendo, just to name a few redeeming qualities - and even though he works for the WSU athletic department (boo, hiss), it is because of his connections there that my Husky ass (as opposed to husky ass...walked into that one) was in my seat tonight. So I must swallow my purple & gold pride and salute the crimson & grey - go Cougs!
And my wife gets lots of hugs and kisses too - she could have gone to the game, but when our childcare plans went south, she took charge and came home early so I could go - who loves ya, baby?
The days leading up to the game were spent emailing and talking with Phil, trying to iron out the logistics. After my last gather-kid-at-bus stop-run, I dash off to the Park & Ride to catch a bus. Get to the P&R with five minutes to spare, and then spend the next hour listening to my iPod and texting my wife and Phil. One of the messages I get from Phil is a pic of Drew Carey (Sounders minority owner) as they march from a gathering point near the stadium and parade to the game. Phil, as usual, has crackerjack timing and happens upon the mob just as they are heading out.
We meet up at the field in front of a giant inflatable football (you know, soccer ball) and head in. There are smiles everywhere, high fives, whooping, hollering, and just a kind of noise that I've always associated with soccer. It's so fucking cool!
And the seats? Club level, Aisle 232, Row Q, Seat 5. I've had worse (like the seat behind a steel support beam at Fenway Park), but for this game, I'd sit on crushed glass. Awesome seats. A bit shy of midfield, behind the benches, looking down on Kasey Keller going through his pre-game warmup routine.
After a Freddie Ljungberg sighting (looking dapper in a tailored suit and acknowledging the masses), and the thankfully brief pre-game fluff (including flags from each United Nations member, and a bunch of young ladies in Sounders colors who move a lot like Seahawks cheerleaders), it is finally time to kick this thing off!
Fredy Montero scored less than 12 minutes in, so right away it set the crowd abuzz and erased any possibility that Seattle would suffer as did Toronto FC, who took something like nine games to score their first goal when they joined MLS. After each goal, everyone was high-fiving, screaming, and holding up their scarves. A young guy next to me even gave a gentle high-five to an infant in from of him - awwwwww.
So from start to finish, it was just an exciting and entertaining match. Kasey didn't have much to do, but when he did, it counted. One point-blank reaction save, and one to send a screamer over the crossbar was about the extent of his night. After the game, people were laughing, smiling, singing, and talking to everyone like we all knew each other. Well, in a way, we do - we're all soccer fans.
I hope this level of enthusiasm continues for the duration. 22,000 season ticket holders is a great start, even better than hoped for by the suits I'm sure. And it's a far cry from the A-League and USL days of the post-NASL (boy, I'm just full of it tonight) Sounders, who played in front of crowds of several hundred to a thousand or two fans for the most part in venues much less shiny and happy than Qwest Field.
And speaking of the Sounders of years past, we now know that Vancouver has been awarded an MLS franchise, and it looks like Portland may land one as well. That means an instant three-way West Coast rivalry with more history than any other MLS club can boast about in my opinion. The Whitecaps and Timbers (hopefully they keep their old names in some form as well) and Sounders just don't really like each other. And good rivalries can often generate great games, so let's hope that is the case.
The night ended with a burger at Red Robin (oh my god, the smell of garlic fries at the game was killing me!) and hanging out with Phil. I really can't think of a better night, unless it involves a bus full of Hawaiian Tropic swimsuit models looking for a couple of oil boys (except in this movie Phil and I get on the bus, but are hunted down and dragged from the bus by our chainsaw-toting wives). Let's call it Dumb & Dumber III: Tom & Phil's Best Day Evar!
Ole, ole ole ole...
You could not have scripted this any better. The stands were packed with a sea of bright green jerseys, jackets, hats, and oh yes, scarves. The standard pre-first game pep talk from the suits (and plenty of boos for the guv). I think Drew Carey already has his playoff party booked. The band playing the old-school Sounders ditty (da dah dah, da dah dah...), the Sounders flags waving in the crowd, and the overall energy in the stadium. Oh, and the soccer horns - my wife hates them - there were plenty of soccer horns to be seen and heard.
The home team scores early, and it was all downhill for NY from there. The officials allowed a lot of contact, showed a few yellows, and took the usual amount of blame and abuse. Cap it off with a shutout, and sportswriters everywhere can bang out their "local boy comes home, pitches clean sheet" stories. Fans and owners go home happy, knowing that no matter what happens from here on out, they witnessed a magic night that cannot be taken away.
First of all, I would not have been there unless my friend Phil comes through and scores us free tickets to the match. Phil is a great guy - fellow footie nut, goalie, former co-worker at various shared stops including Nintendo, just to name a few redeeming qualities - and even though he works for the WSU athletic department (boo, hiss), it is because of his connections there that my Husky ass (as opposed to husky ass...walked into that one) was in my seat tonight. So I must swallow my purple & gold pride and salute the crimson & grey - go Cougs!
And my wife gets lots of hugs and kisses too - she could have gone to the game, but when our childcare plans went south, she took charge and came home early so I could go - who loves ya, baby?
The days leading up to the game were spent emailing and talking with Phil, trying to iron out the logistics. After my last gather-kid-at-bus stop-run, I dash off to the Park & Ride to catch a bus. Get to the P&R with five minutes to spare, and then spend the next hour listening to my iPod and texting my wife and Phil. One of the messages I get from Phil is a pic of Drew Carey (Sounders minority owner) as they march from a gathering point near the stadium and parade to the game. Phil, as usual, has crackerjack timing and happens upon the mob just as they are heading out.
We meet up at the field in front of a giant inflatable football (you know, soccer ball) and head in. There are smiles everywhere, high fives, whooping, hollering, and just a kind of noise that I've always associated with soccer. It's so fucking cool!
And the seats? Club level, Aisle 232, Row Q, Seat 5. I've had worse (like the seat behind a steel support beam at Fenway Park), but for this game, I'd sit on crushed glass. Awesome seats. A bit shy of midfield, behind the benches, looking down on Kasey Keller going through his pre-game warmup routine.
After a Freddie Ljungberg sighting (looking dapper in a tailored suit and acknowledging the masses), and the thankfully brief pre-game fluff (including flags from each United Nations member, and a bunch of young ladies in Sounders colors who move a lot like Seahawks cheerleaders), it is finally time to kick this thing off!
Fredy Montero scored less than 12 minutes in, so right away it set the crowd abuzz and erased any possibility that Seattle would suffer as did Toronto FC, who took something like nine games to score their first goal when they joined MLS. After each goal, everyone was high-fiving, screaming, and holding up their scarves. A young guy next to me even gave a gentle high-five to an infant in from of him - awwwwww.
So from start to finish, it was just an exciting and entertaining match. Kasey didn't have much to do, but when he did, it counted. One point-blank reaction save, and one to send a screamer over the crossbar was about the extent of his night. After the game, people were laughing, smiling, singing, and talking to everyone like we all knew each other. Well, in a way, we do - we're all soccer fans.
I hope this level of enthusiasm continues for the duration. 22,000 season ticket holders is a great start, even better than hoped for by the suits I'm sure. And it's a far cry from the A-League and USL days of the post-NASL (boy, I'm just full of it tonight) Sounders, who played in front of crowds of several hundred to a thousand or two fans for the most part in venues much less shiny and happy than Qwest Field.
And speaking of the Sounders of years past, we now know that Vancouver has been awarded an MLS franchise, and it looks like Portland may land one as well. That means an instant three-way West Coast rivalry with more history than any other MLS club can boast about in my opinion. The Whitecaps and Timbers (hopefully they keep their old names in some form as well) and Sounders just don't really like each other. And good rivalries can often generate great games, so let's hope that is the case.
The night ended with a burger at Red Robin (oh my god, the smell of garlic fries at the game was killing me!) and hanging out with Phil. I really can't think of a better night, unless it involves a bus full of Hawaiian Tropic swimsuit models looking for a couple of oil boys (except in this movie Phil and I get on the bus, but are hunted down and dragged from the bus by our chainsaw-toting wives). Let's call it Dumb & Dumber III: Tom & Phil's Best Day Evar!
Ole, ole ole ole...
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Where did all my heroes go?
NHL heroes, that is to say. I read about Martin Brodeur winning his 552nd game on Tuesday (which makes him the all-time leader in Wins), which is really cool. Plus, he's only four shutouts away from taking the lead in that category as well. Way to go, Marty!
I first played ice hockey back in 1975 in the Eastside Hockey Association. My Squirt House team was sponsored by John L. Scott. I used a CCM stick and Cooper gloves. If I ever get a new scanner, I'll post my team and individual photos. I had the face of a cherub, and the heart of a killer. You can laugh if you want, but I will cling to my fantasies regardless.
My favorite book at the time was a big yellow tome titled Pro Hockey Heroes of Today by Bill Libby. All the greats of the late 60s and early 70s are in this: Orr, Cheevers, Hull, Esposito, Mahovlich...if it wasn't buried in the closet with my stash of "must keep forever" books, I'd list them all right now.
Hockey didn't last long, though. Too expensive and too time-consuming for our family. Gave T-Ball a whirl, and then ended up playing soccer...but that's another entry for another day.
Fast-forward to the early 90s. I was working at Nintendo, and my friend Blaine suckered me into his Fantasy Hockey league. My long-dormant romance with the NHL was back on the front burner! I rediscovered the game, and have not stopped the affair since. Thank goodness for CBC and Hockey Night in Canada, because I miss NHL2Night on ESPN2 with John Buccigross. JB alone is worth an individual entry (note to self...).
So many players were in their prime, or just coming of age back then: The Legion of Doom (Lindros/Leclair/Renberg), Fedorov, Bure, Jagr, Hasek, Potvin (Felix the Cat)...way too many to list at the moment. But even the grinders and role-players were important - Dave Gagner, hell yeah! Heady days, indeed.
Then a funny thing happened...we had kids, and suddenly I didn't watch a lot of hockey any more. I still had games on, but never watched them start to finish. The sports section in the Seattle Times kept me up on standings, and those crazy guys at ESPN/ESPN2 and ESPN.com kept me up on the players and everything else.
Back to present day: Now, all I see and hear about are guys like Crosby, Ovechkin, Kane & Toews (there is hope once again for the Blackhawks), the brothers Staal, and a new breed of young netminders. But where are MY guys, MY heroes, MY grinders and unsung PP killers? Here's a rundown on a few random names:
Paul Kariya (Cha-cha-cha): now an old man at 34 and with St. Louis, his 4th team. When he's healthy, he's good for just under a point per game and still an asset on the PP.
Sergei Fedorov: even older than Kariya at 39, plays for Washington, and is also on his 4th team. His offensive output is greatly diminished, but he's in his 17th year, so he's unlikely to score 120 points again (93-94, with Detroit).
Pavel Bure: The Russian Rocket had back-to-back 60 goal/100+ point seasons in 92-93 and 93-94. The man could skate and score. His career ended in 2003, cut short by injuries I think.
Eric Lindros: The Big E played hard, and got hit hard. Too many times to the head, as he retired in 2007 after 13 years and 4 teams (I sense a pattern here). #88 was one of the new breed of big, strong players who could score often AND hit like a train.
Dominik Hasek: He's Gumby, dammit! The Dominator is retired (4 teams - I'm not making this stuff up!) and was as talented as he was quirky.
Chris Chelios: Are you freaking kidding me? 24 years and counting. This man is the T-101 of the NHL - relentless and seemingly unstoppable.
Dave Gagner: One of my favorite grinders. 719 points in 946 games. And now his son plays!
Hopefully I'll be able to do this again one day, and wax nostalgic about Sid the Kid and Sam Gagner. It's been fun.
I first played ice hockey back in 1975 in the Eastside Hockey Association. My Squirt House team was sponsored by John L. Scott. I used a CCM stick and Cooper gloves. If I ever get a new scanner, I'll post my team and individual photos. I had the face of a cherub, and the heart of a killer. You can laugh if you want, but I will cling to my fantasies regardless.
My favorite book at the time was a big yellow tome titled Pro Hockey Heroes of Today by Bill Libby. All the greats of the late 60s and early 70s are in this: Orr, Cheevers, Hull, Esposito, Mahovlich...if it wasn't buried in the closet with my stash of "must keep forever" books, I'd list them all right now.
Hockey didn't last long, though. Too expensive and too time-consuming for our family. Gave T-Ball a whirl, and then ended up playing soccer...but that's another entry for another day.
Fast-forward to the early 90s. I was working at Nintendo, and my friend Blaine suckered me into his Fantasy Hockey league. My long-dormant romance with the NHL was back on the front burner! I rediscovered the game, and have not stopped the affair since. Thank goodness for CBC and Hockey Night in Canada, because I miss NHL2Night on ESPN2 with John Buccigross. JB alone is worth an individual entry (note to self...).
So many players were in their prime, or just coming of age back then: The Legion of Doom (Lindros/Leclair/Renberg), Fedorov, Bure, Jagr, Hasek, Potvin (Felix the Cat)...way too many to list at the moment. But even the grinders and role-players were important - Dave Gagner, hell yeah! Heady days, indeed.
Then a funny thing happened...we had kids, and suddenly I didn't watch a lot of hockey any more. I still had games on, but never watched them start to finish. The sports section in the Seattle Times kept me up on standings, and those crazy guys at ESPN/ESPN2 and ESPN.com kept me up on the players and everything else.
Back to present day: Now, all I see and hear about are guys like Crosby, Ovechkin, Kane & Toews (there is hope once again for the Blackhawks), the brothers Staal, and a new breed of young netminders. But where are MY guys, MY heroes, MY grinders and unsung PP killers? Here's a rundown on a few random names:
Paul Kariya (Cha-cha-cha): now an old man at 34 and with St. Louis, his 4th team. When he's healthy, he's good for just under a point per game and still an asset on the PP.
Sergei Fedorov: even older than Kariya at 39, plays for Washington, and is also on his 4th team. His offensive output is greatly diminished, but he's in his 17th year, so he's unlikely to score 120 points again (93-94, with Detroit).
Pavel Bure: The Russian Rocket had back-to-back 60 goal/100+ point seasons in 92-93 and 93-94. The man could skate and score. His career ended in 2003, cut short by injuries I think.
Eric Lindros: The Big E played hard, and got hit hard. Too many times to the head, as he retired in 2007 after 13 years and 4 teams (I sense a pattern here). #88 was one of the new breed of big, strong players who could score often AND hit like a train.
Dominik Hasek: He's Gumby, dammit! The Dominator is retired (4 teams - I'm not making this stuff up!) and was as talented as he was quirky.
Chris Chelios: Are you freaking kidding me? 24 years and counting. This man is the T-101 of the NHL - relentless and seemingly unstoppable.
Dave Gagner: One of my favorite grinders. 719 points in 946 games. And now his son plays!
Hopefully I'll be able to do this again one day, and wax nostalgic about Sid the Kid and Sam Gagner. It's been fun.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Admiral! There be owls here!
OK, so in Star Trek IV it was whales, not owls. But if I heard whales tonight, that means they can now fly, or the west coast is underwater...
A couple of nights ago, I was walking Jennie and heard some owls calling from the trees just down the road from my neighborhood. Very soft "hoo-hoo" type calls, but very much audible as there was no road noise to interfere right then. I thought that was pretty cool.
Tonight, as Jennie and I were almost home (and in roughly the same spot as the other night), I heard what I assume was an owl screeching. It was flying around, as the sound came from several different locations. Somehow, that was even cooler than hearing them go "hoo-hoo."
I guess it's time to read up on the local owl scene. With any luck, I might even spot one on the wing. Hopefully I'm not trespassing, because I don't think I want a pissed-off owl dive-bombing me. I seem to recall they can be rather territorial, or perhaps just protective during mating season.
Just another reason to not always have the iPod on all the time. You never know what you're missing out there.
A couple of nights ago, I was walking Jennie and heard some owls calling from the trees just down the road from my neighborhood. Very soft "hoo-hoo" type calls, but very much audible as there was no road noise to interfere right then. I thought that was pretty cool.
Tonight, as Jennie and I were almost home (and in roughly the same spot as the other night), I heard what I assume was an owl screeching. It was flying around, as the sound came from several different locations. Somehow, that was even cooler than hearing them go "hoo-hoo."
I guess it's time to read up on the local owl scene. With any luck, I might even spot one on the wing. Hopefully I'm not trespassing, because I don't think I want a pissed-off owl dive-bombing me. I seem to recall they can be rather territorial, or perhaps just protective during mating season.
Just another reason to not always have the iPod on all the time. You never know what you're missing out there.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Rants and Raves and Manners
OK, I admit it, I'm something of a dinosaur - I still read the newspaper (you know, it's made out of paper, contains news and other stories, comics, sales inserts, etc). Some might question the logic - why pay for something that you can read for free online? And ya know what? I would agree with that logic on a purely unemotional economic level. But for some reason, I just need to hold the paper in my hands. Granted, I can no longer sit around and read it without interruption (having kids will do that to you) but I can pick it up and read bits throughout the day, time permitting.
The Sunday Seattle Times runs a "Rant & Rave" column, and one of today's Rants was about inconsiderate theatergoers who use phones during movies. I agree 100% - if you are going to watch a movie, turn off your phone, put it away, and enjoy the movie! If you are expecting an important call, or need to be available to talk to your babysitter or stock broker or pet rock, fine, just make sure you know how to set your phone to silent mode/vibrate, and take your call OUTSIDE in the hallway. Please? Is that too much to ask?
But what really got me about this Rant was the closing: "Adults should know better and parents, please teach kids manners about the right place and time for electronics use."
Amen! You would think adults should know better, and you would hope parents are still teaching kids manners. I know, I know, we live in a different time, technology has marched on, most kids would boggle if I broke out my old Sony Walkman - you know what I speak of - it's about the size of a Buick, and plays TAPES for crying out loud! But come on, people, just because we have cell phones and bluetooth headsets and iPods doesn't mean we are granted the right to be an ass in public.
I think a lot of kids pick up bad habits from their parents. If mommy and daddy call/text/do the Google in places like movie theaters, it must be OK. I would be mortified if any of my kids grow up to be rude and inconsiderate brats. And I'm not just talking about texting at the movies - I'm talking about everyday life.
Don't make a cashier wait while you gab on your phone. Say 'thank you' when a server refills your drink. Hold the door open for the next person behind you. Let a fellow motorist merge into traffic in front of you. Hell, let two or three drivers merge in front of you. What's that going to set you back, 5-10 seconds? Get over yourself already. We are all busy in our own ways, but I'm no more important than the next guy, even if the next guy is a clod-kicking hillbilly who talks on his cell phone during a movie.
I'm not talking about following Miss Manners' playbook to the letter, I'm talking about simple common courtesy. It seems like a lapse in our collective common sense is causing us to lose sight when it comes to treating others the same way you want to be treated. People who are innately rude probably won't ever change, but the rest of us can do the best we can, in particular setting the example for our kids.
I guess that's why I'm fairly optimistic about our future - if we see each other acting civilized, it sets the example. And if we pass along common sense and common courtesy to the next generation, maybe people will stop using technology as an excuse to act like an asshat, and start acting a wee bit more civilized. Well, I can hope, anyhow.
Oh, and I'm not lumping all teenagers and twentysomethings into the "stoopid kids and their stoopid phones" lot - I've met quite a few of these younglings who are more socially aware than I ever was at that age. But it seems like the age-old demon of peer pressure and the "but everyone else is doing it" excuse continues to hold sway over better judgement.
Rant mode off. Time for bed!
The Sunday Seattle Times runs a "Rant & Rave" column, and one of today's Rants was about inconsiderate theatergoers who use phones during movies. I agree 100% - if you are going to watch a movie, turn off your phone, put it away, and enjoy the movie! If you are expecting an important call, or need to be available to talk to your babysitter or stock broker or pet rock, fine, just make sure you know how to set your phone to silent mode/vibrate, and take your call OUTSIDE in the hallway. Please? Is that too much to ask?
But what really got me about this Rant was the closing: "Adults should know better and parents, please teach kids manners about the right place and time for electronics use."
Amen! You would think adults should know better, and you would hope parents are still teaching kids manners. I know, I know, we live in a different time, technology has marched on, most kids would boggle if I broke out my old Sony Walkman - you know what I speak of - it's about the size of a Buick, and plays TAPES for crying out loud! But come on, people, just because we have cell phones and bluetooth headsets and iPods doesn't mean we are granted the right to be an ass in public.
I think a lot of kids pick up bad habits from their parents. If mommy and daddy call/text/do the Google in places like movie theaters, it must be OK. I would be mortified if any of my kids grow up to be rude and inconsiderate brats. And I'm not just talking about texting at the movies - I'm talking about everyday life.
Don't make a cashier wait while you gab on your phone. Say 'thank you' when a server refills your drink. Hold the door open for the next person behind you. Let a fellow motorist merge into traffic in front of you. Hell, let two or three drivers merge in front of you. What's that going to set you back, 5-10 seconds? Get over yourself already. We are all busy in our own ways, but I'm no more important than the next guy, even if the next guy is a clod-kicking hillbilly who talks on his cell phone during a movie.
I'm not talking about following Miss Manners' playbook to the letter, I'm talking about simple common courtesy. It seems like a lapse in our collective common sense is causing us to lose sight when it comes to treating others the same way you want to be treated. People who are innately rude probably won't ever change, but the rest of us can do the best we can, in particular setting the example for our kids.
I guess that's why I'm fairly optimistic about our future - if we see each other acting civilized, it sets the example. And if we pass along common sense and common courtesy to the next generation, maybe people will stop using technology as an excuse to act like an asshat, and start acting a wee bit more civilized. Well, I can hope, anyhow.
Oh, and I'm not lumping all teenagers and twentysomethings into the "stoopid kids and their stoopid phones" lot - I've met quite a few of these younglings who are more socially aware than I ever was at that age. But it seems like the age-old demon of peer pressure and the "but everyone else is doing it" excuse continues to hold sway over better judgement.
Rant mode off. Time for bed!
Monday, December 15, 2008
Cold, but not unbearable
I just got back from walking the hound. Great night! It's in the low 20s, the sky is crystal clear, the not quite full moon was hanging low in the sky, and the stars were twinkling. Really, they were!
A fine blanket of snow was mostly intact on lawns, trees, and bushes, but thankfully the roads and sidewalks were clear (at least in the 'burbs east of Seattle). The only part of me that was cold were my cheeks - and no, I wasn't wearing my flannel chaps, so don't go there - and I went back in time to my Boy Scout days, where I truly learned what cold was.
See, back in the day, our troop used to make an annual snow camp. That's right, pack up your long johns and mummy bags, boys, 'cause it's gonna be a c-o-l-d one! We'd head into the North Cascades and set up camp - you guessed it - in the snow. The trusty dome tents were pitched on a patch of hand (boot) flattened snow, and the days spent romping about, snow-shoeing, igloo-making (at least a reasonable facsimile thereof), Coleman stove cooking, and other winter delights.
But the real fun began at dusk, and continued on to morning. You had to strip off all your wet clothes, change into dry togs if necessary, and slip into the down-filled mummy bag before you went numb. Boots, wool socks, outerwear, and your hats/gloves needed to stay in the tent with you overnight. Why? Ever try to slip on frozen boots in the morning? There you have it.
And should nature call after you were bedded down, well, that did sucketh verily. You had to exit your cocoon, scamper to the tree or latrine, do your biz, and then get back in to your bag. Of course, you disturb your tent mate(s) and freeze your nipples off in the process. Ask me later if these trips were worth it.
Finally, morning! We would stay in our tents as long as possible, until the adults chased us out. Bastards! Exiting the relative warmth of your bag and tent was never pleasant. Dressing in clothes that were not always warm at first was not fun. Even less fun if your boots were frozen!
In hindsight, these trips were worth it. Lessons on how to stay warm have stayed with me all these years later, augmented by the memory of some minor suffering on several of the campouts. Also, if you have never experienced someplace like Minnesota in the dead of winter (you know, -50 to -70 with wind chill factor), you really can't complain about the cold.
So I really had no complaints on my walk tonight. It was cold, but I walk fast, dress wisely, and try not to let it get to me mentally. That, and the stark realization that the homeless have to face the cold on a regular basis with little to no break from it, so yeah, I have no complaints about the cold.
A fine blanket of snow was mostly intact on lawns, trees, and bushes, but thankfully the roads and sidewalks were clear (at least in the 'burbs east of Seattle). The only part of me that was cold were my cheeks - and no, I wasn't wearing my flannel chaps, so don't go there - and I went back in time to my Boy Scout days, where I truly learned what cold was.
See, back in the day, our troop used to make an annual snow camp. That's right, pack up your long johns and mummy bags, boys, 'cause it's gonna be a c-o-l-d one! We'd head into the North Cascades and set up camp - you guessed it - in the snow. The trusty dome tents were pitched on a patch of hand (boot) flattened snow, and the days spent romping about, snow-shoeing, igloo-making (at least a reasonable facsimile thereof), Coleman stove cooking, and other winter delights.
But the real fun began at dusk, and continued on to morning. You had to strip off all your wet clothes, change into dry togs if necessary, and slip into the down-filled mummy bag before you went numb. Boots, wool socks, outerwear, and your hats/gloves needed to stay in the tent with you overnight. Why? Ever try to slip on frozen boots in the morning? There you have it.
And should nature call after you were bedded down, well, that did sucketh verily. You had to exit your cocoon, scamper to the tree or latrine, do your biz, and then get back in to your bag. Of course, you disturb your tent mate(s) and freeze your nipples off in the process. Ask me later if these trips were worth it.
Finally, morning! We would stay in our tents as long as possible, until the adults chased us out. Bastards! Exiting the relative warmth of your bag and tent was never pleasant. Dressing in clothes that were not always warm at first was not fun. Even less fun if your boots were frozen!
In hindsight, these trips were worth it. Lessons on how to stay warm have stayed with me all these years later, augmented by the memory of some minor suffering on several of the campouts. Also, if you have never experienced someplace like Minnesota in the dead of winter (you know, -50 to -70 with wind chill factor), you really can't complain about the cold.
So I really had no complaints on my walk tonight. It was cold, but I walk fast, dress wisely, and try not to let it get to me mentally. That, and the stark realization that the homeless have to face the cold on a regular basis with little to no break from it, so yeah, I have no complaints about the cold.
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