The Children Are Our Future

I left work early to talk to the high school newspaper staff. I met with them a few times a year before to help them launch the semester’s first issue but hadn’t spoken to them since. They asked me this time to help them with layout, and I quickly browsed their papers Wednesday night. When I arrived yesterday, they asked for some tips on using InDesign, the pagemaking software, and then we moved on to specific adjustments with the paper. We talked for about an hour and a half, and they asked good questions. It’s clear they want to make the best product and know they need to alter some elements. But they don’t have that far to go. Their paper looks better than the county biweekly. I don’t get the sense they want to be told what to do, just advised on the best way to do it. And I like that attitude.

Your Sister and I picked out football teams as has become our new pro-football tradition. We chatted it up over dinner, and this is what we decided on:

YOUR SISTER’S TEAMS:
NFC: Detroit Lions/Philadelphia Eagles
AFC: Oakland Raiders/New England Patriots (New York Jets as additional option)

MY TEAMS:
NFC: Carolina Panthers/Philadelphia Eagles
AFC: Miami Dolphins/Pittsburgh Steelers

Miami and Pittsburgh opened the season last night, and Miami showed they have no running game. Pittsburgh won with hard defense and a nice passing strategy.

Picture of the Day
Pirate Kitty at DragonCon.

Runnin' Dirty. Or Not.

I found myself on the Bad Treadmill yesterday. The gym has three versions of treadmills to choose from: a late '80s version, a mid '90s version, and a late '90s version. I prefer the middle ones as they keep a good pace. Usually. But I know there's one of them that will sucker you into a painful run. The tread belt is slack, and makes running a real effort. The slack belt and my run make the whole apparatus wobble, and it'slike running on a miniature pirate ship in a storm. My shins have a sharp ache. I did manage my two miles, but it took some internal bargaining. I couldn't move to another machine because they were all occupied, and pride kept me going. I don't want to rely on a specific running environment. But this did keep me from running further, which was my plan. I'm already running faster than I plan to in the 5k race, and I have seven more weeks of training to go.

We watched the Sharapova/Golovin U.S. Open match yesterday, and it was awful. Neither woman could rise above meditocrity to end it. It took two hours+ to play two sets. There was also some controversy about Sharapova's coaches using signals from their seats to tell her when to eat and drink. That level of coaching is a no-no. But she did win.

Picture of the Day
My world is a little sadder at the knowledge this will happen.



Here's the problem with it; everyone's a nerd now. If you carry a laptop, PDA, an iPod or pimped-out cellphone, use MySpace or Second Life, or blog the minute details of your life to strangers, you are as nerds were back in the mid-'80s. We're all plugged in to technology, something that just wasn't the norm 20 years ago. The guys from the first film didn't have serious, mainstream job prospects back then. It was NASA or Lockheed Martin. Now? Best Buy offers you the Geek Squad for national repairs. Macs use PC chips. 1337 speak is legible to most teens. Nerds run the world. They won. Game over. Now if they want to make a film about nerds vs. geeks (the fanboys, the hardcore online gamers, the mega critics), then you got a fun film for a current audience.

In the News
Say what you will about the newsbloggers, but they've proven to be correct about the administration more than a few times. They passed along items about military policies, wiretapping, and the Plame scandal before they reached mainstream table conversation. And now Bush admits that, why yes, we do have secret prisons outside the U.S. The trikc here is that the prisons were set up to avoid the Red Cross humanitarin investigations and U.S. law on torture. But Bush claims we don't torture anyone. So why make the prisons secret? The prisoners can't be aware if the facilities are known to anyone, so the secrecy is not for them. It must be for people who would have a reason to object to them. So what would be the reason? The methods used to interrogate them.

Ridin' Dirty. Or Not.

Every once in a while (a long while), Your Sister will announce she discovered a song on the radio. Oddly enough, they're always hip-hop. The latest song was unearthed last week as she drove somewhere at her usual 9,000 MPH. All she would tell me at the time is that it's called "Ridin' Dirty", and the lyricw flew by too fast to catch. Being the pop-culure expert of the two and the guy who can work with online music files, I went hunting for it. iTunes lists 15 songs titled "Ridin' Dirty," most of which have quick tempos. I downloaded the five basic tracks (no remixes) and saved them to the iPod. When we drove down to Spartanburg, I played them on the radio. None was the right song. Your Sister than gives me details about the right song -- including lyrics -- details I could have used to find that song the first time and saved myself $5. That night, I run a Yahoo search on the lyrics and immediately find the song that fits her tardy description. I got to iTunes, find it, buy it, download it, and play it for her the next morning. She confirms it's the one. The real bitch of it is that it's not called "Ridin' Dirty." It's just called "Ridin'," a title used by 20 other songs on iTunes.

We got the second season of "Lost" on DVD yesterday and started watching the bonus material. There's a great mini-documentary on assembling a network show.

Moving Picture of the Day
A map of Iraq marking fatalities by nation and day, updated as recently as July.



In The News
I couldn't decide if Steve Irwin's willingness to risk his life made him a noble conservationist or a bad father. It''s not fair, I suppose, to expect the man to change his job once he has kids. The wife met him at his preserve and was allegedly won over by his love of animals and trademark energy. She knew whom she was marrying. As with all his specials, he warns viewers not to approach a dangerous animal just because he is. And then he gets killed by such an animal. There's no need for him to approach those animals to make his point that all animals are wonderful and deserve conservation. He didn't have to swim with them, but it made for great TV, and that's the true source of dismay. He took an unneccesary risk, and, while that doesn't make him a bad father, it does make him as stupid as the people he was trying to warn.

Labor Weekend

I got home Friday just in time to watch the high school football game, but we left at halftime due to heavy rain. And most of the crowd left with us. I assume our team won. The college had its second football game the next day, and I assume they lost.

On Saturday, we went to Flat Rock Playhouse to see Agatha Christie's "The Unexpected Guest." This makes three of her plays I've either seen or performed in. It was tight, and the actors did a nice job. But the facilities are underwhelming. This is the state's theatre, and I expected something like the Greenville Little Theatre's huge building that screams Fine Art Here. No, this is more like a forest lodge. The seats are nice and comfy (and wide), but the rows are packed together too tight for foot traffic, and the aisle isn't slanted enough to allow you to see over the guy in front of you. I've heard about Flat Rock Playhouse all my life; it was THE theatre in the area that one simply must experience. And it looks like a summer camp. The ticket booth is on the back of one wood-slat building, the theatre is by itself, and the concessions are over in another wood-slat building. We ate dinner at a nearby inn, and that was damn good eats. Would I go back to the Flat Rock? Maybe. But it would have to be a killer show. I've seen churches with better accomodations.

On Sunday we visited my parents for a bit and discussed the Thanksgiving trip to Alabama.

On Monday, we hiked for a few hours before Your Sister went to work. We found our favorite Mexican eatery closed for the holiday and instead ate hot dogs. Travis and Kathy's baby is due this weekend, but they are still planning to watch the Ohio State/Texas game on Saturday.

Picture of the Day
the Hooker Ridge hiking trail in DuPont Forest.

Back to the Treadmill

I ran two miles yesterday at the gym. This took as much time as about four songs on the iPod: "You Never Even Call By My Name," one of the Beastles/Beastie mash-ups, "How I Could Just Kill A Man," and "Cochese." After the three runs since Saturday, I'm already developing the tell-tale muscle divots on my hips. My ankles hurt today, oddly enough. I expected to feel it more in my shins and calves. I'm excercising on alternate days to give my body a chance to rest up. I returned home to make fried chicken, and we crashed a little early.

Picture of the Day


The above is part of a campaign to build a 911 memorial.


In the News
From The New York Times: "Richard L. Armitage, a former deputy secretary of state, has acknowledged that he was the person whose conversation with a columnist in 2003 prompted a long, politically laden criminal investigation in what became known as the C.I.A. leak case, a lawyer involved in the case said on Tuesday." The prosecutor is not charging anyone with disclosing the identity of the operative, so Armitage will face no charges unless he lied to a grand jury.

+ + +

Two million dark chocolate M&Ms are offered in exchange for The Scream.

+ + +

Bush, Cheney, and Rumsfeld are taking an offensive stance in their current speeches, claiming we are at war with fascism, and war critics are harming America. The term "Islamo-fascism" grew through talk-radio use as hosts tried their damndest to paint a struggle with terrorism as the Third World War or, at least, compare the current administration favorably to Churchill (but, interestingly enough, not FDR, the Democrat president at the time). I don't buy it. Terrorism is not an enemy but a tactic. You may as well wage war on pessimism. None of this can be shocking given that we're two months from the midterm elections. It also helps the above guys that the fifth anniversary of 911 occurs between now and those elections. But waving that bloody shirt also reminds people that Bush himself said last week that Iraq had nothing to do with 911. The election is forecast as a barometer of consensus toward the Iraq occupation, but even if Democrats take over the Congress, there's no suggestion that Bush will change his administration's tactic of sidestepping Congress to continue its policies.

The Mower Doesn't Run But I Do.

I checked the mower last night to see if I could find a clue as to its failure. The engine is smothered in oil. Not a good sign. The spark plug was crusted with burnt oil, and the air filter is drenched in it. I cleaned them both, but again couldn't get the machine to crank. When Travis came over last night, I asked him about it, and he immediately called up his dad. He said the valves were opened when the mower was turned on its side (I had to clean out the blade region), but if I remove the plug and yank the starter chord, this should move the excess oil away from the engine. I'll try that tonight. If it doesn't work, I've got the number of a local repair guy.

Because my evening was now open (and Your Sis was at school until 10 p.m.), I had time to run. I ran a little Saturday, just around the neighborhood to acclimate my knees to pavement shock. I have two months to prepare for the Halloween 5K, a run that features a bitch of a hill. Luckily, my neighborhood is a series of hills piled upon each other, and I can practice near the house. But yesterday I wanted to know if I could run anything close to 5K. I went to the gym, climbed aboard the treadmill, and launched myself with the new iPod in hand and ear. I did pretty well, at least 2 miles before my towel accidentally activated the emergency exit and killed my groove. That's not a bad distance for my first longish run in some time. If I can get myself used to road running, I think I can do this. I discovered that I could reduce my leg pain by running faster on the treadmill, a feat aided by a mix of Queen, Radiohead, and Nine Inch Nails. I've also been advised to get better running shoes by folks online.

Picture of the Day
Crazy Arnold head from a Japanese ad



In the News
Scientists at SUNY claim to have discovered a memory molecule in the brain.

+ + +

Told ya the guy who confessed to killing JonBenet was a whacko.

Mow No Mo'

My lawnmower is giving me fits, and the lawn is becoming jungle-acious. My mower repair skills are weak, and this sucker is pretty old for a mower. I bought it in 1996, I believe. I think ten years is a fine tenure for a mower that's gone through four lawns. However, I wouldn't be against a reasonable repair price. The trick is getting to a mower Jedi when I have to drive to Asheville on weekdays. It might not be until Saturday before anyone can look at it. Meanwhile, my lawn might swallow the house.

While discussing Rosemary's Baby, the 1968 horror film about a woman carrying the devil's child, Your Sis commented that it probably helped sway the decision on Roe v. Wade just five years later. I never thought about it like that, but it makes a type of sense.

This weekend was pretty low-key, although I did see Brevard College's first football game in 50 years. We lost and lost badly, but this is essentially a high-school team. The coach came from high school, and the quarterbacks are all freshman. I can't imagine Brevard could summon forth great football players from other established teams. Anyway, it was fun seeing college football even on this small scale. We arrived just as the team left the lockerrom and take the field, and I admit I got the tingles. I intend to see as many games as I can; they play at the high school and it's RIGHT THERE. I have no excuse not to go.

Moving Picture of the Day
Conan O'Brien's opening montage from last night's Emmys.

In the News
I used to consider myself a fairly TV-hip guy, but I've seen practically none of the Emmy winners. Not "24," not "The Office," and not "Amazing Race." We used to watch "Law and Order: SVU" almost every day on USA. I'm glad Alan Alda won for "West Wing" as he did a fine job there.

Cooking with Villainy: Dr. Doom 2

It's one of those run-around days, so I asked my pen pal Dr. Victor Von Doom to fill-in with another of his cooking entries. His first one was a smash hit, bringing in unprecedented hits to this blog. So now as I head to Greenville on an airport run, I leave you in the iron fists of Dr. Doom:

For too long, even in the glory of Latveria, the home oven has been reduced to a simple function by the peasantry. They mindlessly use it to bake. Latveria virtually drowns in a sea of casseroles, for which assuredly The Accursed Richards is rightfully to blame. Doom shall not suffer another casserole. This swears Doom! I bid all my subjects to behold the wonder that is the broil function. Observe how it quickly heats your meager sustenance with an exquisite char, especially those Doom has bless with gas ovens. No, no, not those gas ovens, my fellow Latverians. Fear not. Doom seeks to grill, not to kill. This night, anyway. I bequeath to you the miracle of Doom's Lemon Pepper Garlic Chicken Alfredo with Red Peppers. Attend me!

First, Doom commands you to bring a pasta pot to a boil. Doom uses his mighty power gauntlets for this task as Doom will not bide his time for boiling water.

Doom then commands you to baste two chicken breasts in a mixture of olive oil, lemon juice, cracked black pepper, and two minced cloves of garlic. Adhere the glaze with a pastry brush.

Doom commands you to set the broiler on high and insert the chicken in a drip-pan. Doom bestowed to you all these drip-pans for Christmas so there are no excuses for you to lack them. failure to use drip-pans will be met by my Doombots.

Doom commands you to put three cups of penne pasta into the boiling water. Add salt, curs!

Doom commands you to flip and baste the chicken after seven minutes. Stir the pasta lest it adheres to the pot.

Doom commands you to chop one red pepper into bite-size chunks and simmer over low heat with olive oil and kosher salt.

Doom commands you to heat up one half jar of alfredo sauce on low heat. Do not allow sauce to boil. That Accursed Richards somehow made Doom lactose intolerant, and only retail brands allow Doom his beloved alfredo sauce without committing him to hours upon to Doompotty. RICHARDS!!!

Doom commands you to mind the pasta. When it reaches peak density, drain. Add pasta to alfredo sauce, close lid, and shake to coat noodles.

Doom commands you to remove the chicken when done and plate. Cover in noodles. Add last the peppers.

Doom commands you to savor.

Doom prefers to quench his thirst with Flying Dog beer, and you would be wise to follow in Doom's path. Very wise indeed.

Mushroom Trivia

We met with Angela and Dan at Mellow Mushroom for a bar trivia night. I hadn't done this since my Spartanburg days. I regularly went to a downtown bar called RJ Rockers for trivia. Sometimes on Wednesday night, sometimes on Saturday night, sometimes both. I would go with Debbie's co-workers or my comic gang. It was always a blast, and we would either place respectably or lose spectacularly. RJ Rockers, sadly, closed and became a lame Irish eatery, and I hadn't played a beer-supported trivia game since.

Last night was fun, and the game format resembled Rockers' contest. We whiffed on the capital of Maine (Augusta) and the number of minutes in an NBA quarter (12). But the second round featured questions about GI Joe (my favorite 80s cartoon) and Burgertime (my favorite video game). We placed fifth, which isn't bad for the first time. I'm not sure if the winners receive anything, but if not, no loss. We had fun eating and drinking. Angela and Dan just got satellite TV, and we exchanged notes on our favoite shows. They also told horror stories about buying Dish TV, cementing my belief that DirecTV was the better purchase two years ago.

Your Sis talked with the co-chair and things are presumably going to run smoother now.

Picture of the Day
NASA hopes the new Orion capsule will transport us to the moon and maybe Mars.


In the News
The bastards downgraded Pluto from its "planet" status.

+ + +

The NY Times reports the FDA approved an over-the-counter "morning after" pill. Customers must be 18 and older.

Tension

Your Sis is having trouble crafting a feasible working relationship with her co-chair. She finds herself struggling to fit surprise plans into a schedule already packed with her own workload. Even though they share the chair position (nominally, anyhow) , they have yet to hammer out a plan of attack. The two have to sit down and discuss scheduling before Your Sis goes Tarzan and destroys a classroom. I've tried to calm her down by suggesting she imagine doing this and coaching volleyball. Nothing is helped by the almost slapstick technical failures in her district. The PCs were refurbished, but the techs failed to install Word, the key program for the schools. Also, Your Sister's wing has no network connection at the moment. Of course, it's two days before school starts. Something will be Bad Wrong. But she worked a lot this summer to have her shit together only to find she's asked to carry someone else's load to their standards and work around missing computer equipment. You wonder why teachers drink?

Picture of the Day
The poster for the upcoming magician thriller The Prestige.



In the News
There's a comic-book adaptation of the 9/11 Commission Report, and it's getting major news coverage. I'm not that curious about it nor any other dramatic interpretation of that day (this year's two 9/11 movies, the impending network recreations). I also believe that I, by now, have a pretty good idea of what went down that day: the dark stars aligned to craft a flat-footed federal reaction to a pie-in-the-sky terrorist plot.

Spiked

Your Sis was assigned the duty of selling tickets at the opening volleyball matches yesterday. She was concerned throughout the weekend about previously vocal (read: asshole) parents making comments. That didn't happen. Mainly she was worried about Angry Dad, the jerk who stormed the court and berated her during matches. He coaches his daughter and niece through the year in club teams. He and his sister were adamant about removing our gal from her job, since she obviously couldn't coach (even though her team only lost five times last year) . Your Sis learned that his daughter isn't playing for a full week because she went on vacation without informing the coach. As punishment, she can't play or suit up. Angry Dad had no reason to appear. But we also learned that because the middle school coach took Your Sis's former position, that school no longer has a volleyball coach, and Angry Dad's niece now can't play for the school. Also, the JV team lost yesterday. We don't take any joy in the girls' failure, but it made Your Sis feel somewhat better about handing over the job.

School officially opens Friday (yes, they're playing sports before school opens), and she's cramming to finish her work. She ran ragged and then had to fix the dislodged pantry door at 10:30 last night. She had a day.

Picture of the Day
Quick, approximate reference guide to the solar system by size:








In the news
Among the items now held as evidence against the British bombers: hydrogen peroxide. You can't even find that in a meth lab.

Partyversary

It was one year ago yesterday that we held the formal ceremony at Silvermont, and then we watched The Village and opened presents at 1 in the morning. Yes, it does feel like a year has passed; we've both been busy with work and hobbies. We ate Indian food using the curry you sent us and had Travis and Kathy over. The meal went over great, and we all took turns preparing the ingredients. We then watched a James Cameron-produced special "decoding" Exodus, hoping to prove scientifically when and how the events happened.

On Saturday, we watched V for Vendetta again, and it holds up, if not improves, with a second viewing. It's obvious they worked on this script before making The Matrix as that movie holds a number of similarities in themes and images with Vendetta. Your Sis stopped the film to bemoan Lucas's treatment of Portman's character in the third prequel as this film proves she's got real acting chops. If she isn't nominated for acting awards for the role, there is no justice. She carries the film.

My lawnmower seems to be in the last mow throes. If it can just last until October, I can junk it and get a new one next year. I've had it for, wow, about seven years now.

Pictures of the Day
One of Your Sis's teaching buddies asked for a mix CD of rambler songs. This is the CD cover art I made for it:


This is one I made for Travis awhile back. I use Photoshop and Illustrator for the art and labels.


In the News
In a rare news conference, Bush said, according to the AP, "the war was 'straining the psyche of our country.' " That's a different spin from what we normally here from him. I wonder how conciliatory we can expect him to be before November.

Attack of the Kick-Ass Tomatoes

While we talked about developing a garden in the back yard, and even got so far as cleaning away the weeds for it, we never planted anything. We considerd corn, tomatoes, herbs, peppers -- stuff we always eat. We even have a compost pile to fertilize the hypothetical garden. In this pile, we put all our food scraps (except meat). We used to put paper towels in there to degrade naturally, but the local birds stole it for nesting. A few weeks back, we noticed that the pile had growth. A weed here, a flower there. And then we saw the tomato plants. And then we found the tomatoes. How hard is it to grow tomatoes? Apparently, not at all. Throw seeds in the back yard. Bam, you gots tomatoes. I plucked some this week, had them with dinner, and they're just fine. Our first tomatoes. Straight from the crap bin. I think there's also a squash vine in there too.

Your Parents are also giving us tomatoes from their small bin at home. And a fellow teacher is handing us overflow from her garden, including tomatoes and basil for homemade pesto. I have no idea about their nutritional content or calories, but I'm eating them like they're going out of style. Your Sis, of course, hates them with a hate that dare not be named. But lukcily, my appetite will make them vanish before long. When Travis came over Wednesday, we're were throwing them back amid the popcorn and beers.

Picture of the Day
Maybe the only legally licensed Cavin and Hobbes product. All those car stickers you see with Calvin peeing or praying or Hoobes dancing? The fraternity shirts? The ties? Bootlegs. All of them. You can see more rare stuff from the artist here.




In the News
Apparently I was right about the confession in the Jon Benet murder. He is indeed wacko.

+ + +

A federal judge ruled against the warrantless wiretaps. Does anyone think the administration will stop the program even if the Supremes rule against it? Or that the Justice Department will completely end it when a Democrat takes office?

She Should Really Butt Out

The Indignant Christian Neighbor emailed me again yesterday to respond to my reply. She admitted she had only gotten her divorce info from Debbie and that it was all years old. She also, after two emails, decided what she was doing was -- oh hell, here's her email:

I'm sorry, I feel now what I've done is really inappropriate. I apologize if I have caused you to drudge up painful memories. Please forgive me and I wish you and your family the best.

She might be sincere or she might only have offered a faux humble exit from a conversation she no longer controlled. I don't think she was prepared for me to answer with calm, direct point-by-point retorts of her accusations. Either way, I'm not convinced this will be the last I hear from someone in the Debbie Camp.

After work, I hosted Travis for a marathon of "Venture Brothers" while our wives attended another Ladies Night dinner party. When Your Sis got home, I showed her the emails from and to the Indignant Christian Neighbor. And we laughed. Not at debbie's alledged financial plight, but at this person's sudden attack of the haughty allegations and quick retreat from her moral high ground.

Picture of the Day
Screenings start tonight.



In the News
Caer Caradoc at Mynydd y Gaer, Glamorgan, an ancient Welsh city and possible gravesite of Uther Pendragon, has been found.

+ + +

Police arrested a suspect in the Jon Benet murder. But the story is weird. He was arrested in Thailand and hails from Georgia. Hs ex-wife says he was with her in Alabama when Jon Benet was killed in Colorado. She also says he studied new reports of this case and the murder of Polly Klaas. He lived for a time near the family when they moved to Georgia after the murder.

Oh, The Drama

Your Sis had a teacher workshop yesterday that included details on the state teacher mentoring program. This allegedly welcomes new teachers to the system and includes a 150-page manual and tips such as making them a welcome basket and getting the local paper to write about them. She also learned that mentors are paid a certain amount each month, and one district is pooling all its mentor funds to pay an administrative position; its mentors are treated as volunteers.

We watched two glorious hours of "House" last night, and this is officially our new favorite TV show. I recently discovered "The Venture Brothers" on Cartoon Network and added it and "MASH" to our TiFaux record list. We now have three Eddie Izzard performances saved as well.

I just received an indignant email from a former neighbor of mine when I was married to Debbie. This lady decided to write me from her office to say I had abandoned my wife and Christian obligations, for which my wife must know suffer in poverty among the black people (really). I wrote back very calmy and reminded her this is the first she's reached out to me in this matter going back five years since Debbie left. She's working off of Lifetime channel movies about lonely, devoted wives treated like shit by Treat Williams and Joe Penny. I hope she writes back. I really do.

And Debbie is where she is because that's where Debbie's choices lead her. She wanted out, she ran away, she lied like a rug to cover her tracks, and she can get another man if she wanted to. She's not ugly at all. She's just not taking care of herself.

News of the Day
The International Astronomical Union proposes we have 12 planets in our solar system.

Back from Virginia

The mini-moon was a humdinger for a Shakespeare nut like me. Staunton's American Shakespeare Center knows how to put on a show. With eleven actors in residence this season, they will run four plays -- As You Like It, Othello, Macbeth, and Tempest -- on alternating days, with two different plays on Saturdays. The trip looked like this:

Wednesday
We arrive after a seven-hour drive and find our bed and breakfast inn is made up of at least three different buildings. We have a roomy room on the top floor of one building a half block up from the main lodge where breakfast is served. Staunton, while a lovely town to stroll, is dead. It's built like Asheville but functions like Brevard; it's designed for weekend, daylight retail business and sightseeing. For dinner, we try a place open only a week earlier, The Clocktower Tavern. Fantastic steaks. We find a gaming store and buy a travel chess set to kill the time when we're not in the theatre. In this town, you can catch a play, catch a movie, or eat dinner. That's all your evening options.

Thursday
We head to the Frontier Culture Museum. A series of functioning historic farms allows us to wander country by country and through a century or two. Your Sis gets to carry water from a well in Germany, churn butter in Ireland, and milk a cow in America. The humid weather made for slow going at times, but at least we weren't wearing woven layers while working in a small house with a lit fireplace. The museum workers must love their jobs. We left before 2 p.m. to catch a tour of the theatre. One of the actors walked us through the rehearsal space and dressing rooms and allowed us to get on the stage. The latter, of course, sparked my acting jones. We watched a rehearsal of Othello, and after the tour, we two snuck back in to watch them rehearse some more. They cooked up a nice choreography for the Desdemona death scene that makes a lot of sense. That's what this theatre does so well: They take sensible approaches, using the textual directions and logical movements. For dinner, we eat at The Beverly, a country diner, and I enjoy a sublime open roast-beef sandwich drowned in brown gravy. We then catch Macbeth, a show I've waited 17 years to see live. We take seats onstage, as was the tradition way back when. I also sat onstage for Twelth Night when the theatre trouring troupe visited Brevard. This is my favorite play because it tackles so many themes (free will vs. destiny, magic vs. nature, sincerity vs. falsehoods), and I think it qualifies as the first pulp thriller.

Friday
We visit Monticello, Jefferson's home. That's pronounced 'monta-chello', not 'monta-sello.' It was an all-day tour. The house is quite small, but the grounds are huge. It's a fantastic vista to stroll. I learn that Jefferson wrote a state statute on religious freedom. It's as sensible an argument as one can find, yet I never heard it mentioned in the foam-mouthed radio rants on church and state. Also, I have my notion of a child-free days at parks affirmed by the horrible behavior of kids from ages 3 to 15. I would pay extra to be free of them at a museum, movie, or pretty much any public space. After Monticello, we eat at The Wharf, a casual restaurant along the river and train tracks in Staunton. They have an eponymous sandwich there with roast beef and chipotle mayonaise. Wonderful. We then see Tempest done right, a vast improvement on the Montford Park production from last month. This was Shakespeare's last play, and he says goodbye a few times directly. It also has a great comedy subplot with two drunken shipwreck survivors meeting a manbeast enslaved to the island's ruler. I can't say the theatre does comedy better than drama, but they swing both directions equally well. Before the show, a high-school intern group presents short skits showcasing their various camps (clowning, pantomime, stage combat, dance, etc.). It's a mixed bag of quality, but the standout is an Elizabethan dance performance set to Michael Jackson's "Billy Jean. " It works and works well, and then the kids break out into Jackson choreography. But this bit also has the saddest moment as I spy the vocalists reading the lyrics off a print-out. Everyone my age knows the song by heart; it was an inescapable tune for about two years in the early '80s. We hit the corner cafe after and talk to some of the actors and kids. The store has a "frozen hot chocolate" that's mindblowing.

Saturday
We stroll through Staunton's shops, noting the vast Jolly Roger Haggle antique shop, a few good art galleries, and specialty restaurants out the wazoo. Staunton boasts the Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library, but the man doesn't register high enough on my radar for a visit. We eat lunch at the Pampered Palette, a bustling Southern cafe where all the tourists have flocked to eat. I have a gyro. We then see As You Like It from which the theatre wrings all the potential laughs. They add a lot of movement and interpretation distinct from the script, but it works to make a stronger show. This is obviously the show they have invested the most time, and it's the perfect note with which to end our stay. By strange coincidence, Kathy and Travis call me right before the show to ask me details of my syndicated wrestling column. As You Like It also happens to feature a wrestling match in the first act. I'm crying from laughter at this part. Even though we've walked everywhere for four days, we're aching for some exercise and play some tennis in the local park. For dinner, Your Sis chooses The Pullman, a swank business on the train track, right next to the station in fact, and a train whizzes by about 20 minutes after we sit down. I have chicken alfredo. We make an early evening of it and watch some "Good Eats" before calling it a night.

We drive home Sunday and play some more tennis after unpacking. We play at Silvermont where we had the formal wedding. Monday, Your Mom helps Your Sis prepare the classroom while I empty my email of all the accumulated spam. Travis and Kathy come over for wings and wrestling (and Monday Night Football, thank God), and they hand me autographed pictures of a wrestlker they saw Saturday. This is when they called me. The pictures are signed to "Matt Tracker," my old column pen name. I'm floored.

Picture of the Day
After taking about 1,000 photos the week before in Orlando, I took none in Virginia. So here's what Kathy and Travis got me. This is Dusty Rhodes, The American Dream. I grew up watching him fight Ric Flair and evil Russians.


In the News
The UK/US airplane plot arrests occured while we were in Virginia. It set off my cynic alarms, and new information out of Britain supports my notions. It sounds much like the Miami arrests where a gang of utter losers were accused of targeting Chicago despite a lack of funds, weapons, and a clear idea of jihad.

Lady in the Water

... is horribly marketed. The commercials paint it as a horror film (the use of virtually all the scary scenes, the whispering child voiceover) when it is wholly something else: a fable. This is a story about bedtime stories, and as such feels like a Neil Gaiman tale; the people within the story are aware of the rules of such stories. I liked it a bunch once it got rolling, but it does have three big flaws:

1) The first half is clunky as we see Shyamalan obviously set up his story character by character. After the table is set and the momentum picks up, then you got movie.

2) Shyamalan casts himself in a pretty meaty role, and he doesn't have the chops for it. He's a handsome man but not a strong enough actor to pull off the character. Because he wrote and directed it, he surely knows what he needs the character to do in each scene. But understanding and conveying are distinct, and he doesn't manage the latter. This role makes the film feel like a vanity project, as if he's saying a muse will inspire him to change to world with his work. One simple casting change may have shifted the entire movie to a favorable reception.

3) The bedtime story that anchors the movie requires the audience pay attention to its rules, and the initial explanation (in the movie, not the opening credits) is so awkward as to glaze your eyes. That speedbump hurts the film.

The actors are good, and the mood is consistent, but this feels least like an M. Night film, like he's deliberately trying to muddle that suspense style. It leaves a void, however. A good film with a nice emotional ending, but the lack of a polished script hobbles it.

On Friday we attended Kathy and Travis's baby shower. We were asked to write down parental advice, and I went for the jokes. ("Play hide and seek with it. Don't look for a few months. ... Play the baby rap and rock early on, and when it's a teenager, it'll listen to baby music to rebel.") I had no idea the cards would be read aloud, and my stuff went over like gangbusters. People were tearing from laughing.

I helped Your Sis buy clothes and school supplies on Sunday. But we have the honeymoon before school starts.

Picture of the Day
A cloud formation over Orlando.



In the News
We head out to Virginia Wednesday for a Shakespeare honeymoon. The last time we planned a honeymoon, Katrina stopped oil production and spiked prices. Now, an Alaskan production shutdown looks to do the same before we drive north.

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NPR had a weird newsbyte this morning about Iraq. As proof of how crazed the sectarian violence is, an NPR contributor said that shepherds are being killed because they don't diaper the goats, and Muslims may be lead astray by their sensual nudity. I am not kidding.

The Big 100

According to my numbers, this is the 100th blog entry.

We finally had some couchtime following my return from Orlando. We watched our usual smattering of shows and went to be really early for us. She made wings for the regular Ladies Night dinner but had a slew of wings left over. Maybe 50. So we ate them. All of them. Quickly. While watching "Star Trek." No, it can't get any worse than that.

Moving Picture of the Day
The unaired "Batgirl" spinoff from the 1960s. Good Lord, that costume never gets old.


In the News
Clinton vs. Rumsfeld in the Senate. I don't think this is proof she's running for president so much as proof she's a good senator.

Waits! Waits! I Never Got a Chance to Love You!

A great night was had by all. Mark strolled into town and a group of us former ECU folk met for dinner beforehand. I suggested Jerusalem Garden unaware of the disparity between the prices for lunch and dinner. It's a big leap. I left early to meet Travis and his Ohio pals so we could divvy up the tickets. Travis and I took the furthest seats, and they were pretty damn good. We were in the front row of the balcony section and dead center aligned with the stage. Tom Waits emerged at 8:20 and played for 90 minutes and then returned for two encores. I'm not as big a fan as the Greenville folks or Travis, and I recognized maybe three songs. The show was great, however, as Waits boasts a personality and sound that no one else on earth can offer. He treated us to the legendary between-song banter about audiences and coffee ("The key word in 'instant coffee?' Instant. ... My jar, my water, my coffee.") After the show, we hit a bar, exchanged ECU stories and quizzed each other on music trivia. I got back home about 1 a.m. Coupled with the Orlando hangover, I am dragging hard.

One more word about Orlando: Seaworld is a waste of time to anyone over the age of 17. There are exactly two aquarium exhibits: a snazzy shark tank you can walk under and a small dolphin nursery. Everything else is a trained animal act. The Shamu show was a brief, smaltzy production, and desperately dehydrated people flocked to it in hopes of getting drenched by whale splashes. If I was an eight-year-old girl, this would be heaven; it also has stables for Anheiser-Busch horses. But it's swarming with souvenir stands and overpriced theme restaurants. The Boston aquarium betters it five times over, easily.

During the trip I read to books by Chuck Palahniuk (Fight Club). Survivor starts out solid as a rock: A former Christian-offshoot colonist toils as a housekeeper and fakes a suicide hotline service to encourage people to die. He tells his life story into the flight recorder of a hijacked airliner running out of fuel. But the book takes a bad step in the middle and becomes a weak parody of evengelical celebrity. Not sure I buy the ending either. Diary reads like a Stephen King story as a woman speaks to her comatose husband about a conspiracy involving suffering artists, generations of rich islanders, and cryptic warnings painted onto walls. He tells it well, but the ending, again, is bad; he even uses the cliche that the manuscript was sent to him by a character. It's obviously his post-911 story. The climax involves emergency personnel calmly walking into a burning house. Fight Club remains his best work, and even he readily admits the movie surpassed his book. Palahniuk is a fun read because he sprinkles the stories with interesting facts about household chemicals or art history. I wonder if he find trivia books about certain subjects and then crafts a tale around them.

Picture of the Day
Our view from the Thomas Wolfe seats, and Waits performing. The shadows added a lot to the tone.

In the News
While Israel vs. Hezbollah gets the most attention, Iraq is falling apart. U.S. generals are finally admitting civil war looms, which only puts them about a year behind everyone else who sees civil war is already upon them. Can the administration hold out until after the elections before pulling out? Do we ramp up our forces and try to hold the federal structure together? How do they repackage the "cut and run" insult when they do pull the plug?

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Rejoice and revel, french fries are back on the menu in Congress. They dropped "freedom" as the replacement name.

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Heath Ledger is playing The Joker in the new Batman film. I can dig it; he's certainly a good enough actor. But I'm very curious as to the character's design.

Back From Orlando

The five days of Thursday, July 27 to Monday, July 31 was a stretch of continual movement. It was a good convention, I think. I'm an outsider for this organization as I am neither female or a musician, but it seemed to run smoothly from my side of the camera. The two of us who work for the magazine took a combined 1,800 pictures, and I'm expecting about 400 more from two men married to officers of the group. I was a clear minority among 750-something women ranging from students to 80 years, but I bore the mighty power of magazine inclusion. The college folks were keen on being printed and eagerly grouped for pictures. My days usually started at 7:30 and ended at midnight. I was on the go or composing pictures the whole time. I've lost at least three pounds. I'm still dragging a bit, and it will take a while to catch up on sleep. I found out only yesterday that my college buddy is coming into town for tonight's concert. This follows my Saturday lunch with Rebecca, whom I've known since elementary school.

I'll get back to the regular blog format when I recover. My feet, they are traumatized.