"I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" by Maya Angelou

"How old would you be
if you didn't know how old you are?"
-Satchel Paige

Hey, I'm older than that actor guy... but just barely.

Wil Wheaton turns 32 today, just 27 days after I did. It's funny, but subconsciously I think I was taking some comfort in thinking "at least I'm not as old as Wil Wheaton." Guess not anymore.

Happy Birthday?

I was watching the late night reruns of Democratic National Convention speeches on C-Span, when a story recalled itself from my past.

It was several years ago. I was dating a young woman. We were both getting our paychecks from the same employer, but we worked in slightly different segments of the company's operation. While I don't think there were any set rules about fraternization, it was not the best of situations to let other people in the workplace know if you were having such a relationship.

The woman I was seeing was extremely sensitive to this risk, which was probably heightened by her own awareness that she sometimes rubbed people the wrong way. So, for reasons of "office politics", she desired to not let co-workers know about our status.

I was compliant with her desire, and somewhat in agreement with it, though I didn't share her fear of us being discovered. Still, at one point, it became obvious that one of our co-workers had become privy to our relationship. What compounded the situation in her view was the fact that she and the person who had found out about us were in a sort of professional conflict at the time. She knew that the person who found out about us didn't like her at all, and she was certain that he'd try to use the information to make her look bad.

I remember kind of laughing it off when she came to me about it -- which I should have known would infuriate her. I tried to explain to her that even if she and the other person who'd discovered our little secret weren't getting along, I knew he wouldn't say anything. She said I couldn't know that.

Of course, I didn't actually know he wouldn't spill our secret, but I was extremely confident he wouldn't. She asked how I could think that way. I explained to her that I had always had a good relationship with the person who had found out, and I just couldn't see him doing this. She continued to try to express to me how much mutual dislike was brewing between them, and that he would try to hurt her any chance he got (this information providing him with said opportunity).

I told her, that while he may have wanted to hurt her, he respected me, and wouldn't do something like that if he thought it would be a negative. She scoffed, and stayed angry at me for several days after.
The bottom line? He never spilled the beans about our relationship. I was not surprised at all, but she always remained indignant about it, insisting until the day we broke up that he would eventually try to use it against her. (In fact, this paranoia weighed heavily in my decision to walk away from the relationship.)

In thinking back on this experience, and having spoken with the man who held this little secret, I now know that he did respect me, and no matter how much he disliked the girl I was seeing, he had decided to keep his mouth shut on the topic. I didn't hold any apparent or actual authority over him with which to secure his silence. I never even had to pressure him to keep quiet. It was simply a matter of the respect I had earned from him.

Sometimes, respect is all you need to ensure safety from those who have the ability to attack you. No, it isn't always enough, but as a supplement to other defense systems, it makes a pretty decent tie-breaker when others who could attack you are mulling whether or not they want to.

Now, to put this back within the political realms as it pertains to U.S. and world relations:

I'm not going to say that Democrats have a monopoly on how to gain the world's respect, but they have a point when they mention international disrespect as a factor that increases the peril under which we live our lives. It's not that we should wait for the rest of the world to give us permission to act in our own best interest, but that sometimes the vacuum approach to policy-making is externally disrespectful to people we call allies, even when, internally, we Americans are oblivious to that perception.

Respect can sway potential attackers, and it can also sway "friends" to come to our defense, even when they are less than enthusiastic about our policies. I find it interesting the talk that has been bandied about winning the hearts and minds of those in the rest of the world -- something that is hardly possible without winning their respect first.

"You run like a river runs to the sea."
-U2

I finally caught up on my Mozilla versions, after hearing many encouraging things about the newer milestones that have come out over the last couple months. I got updated versions of both Thunderbird (ver. 0.7.2) and Firefox(ver. 0.9.2). No bugs so far. If anyone who reads this isn't already aware of my admiration for these two Mozilla applications, let me endorse them both one more time. Thunderbird is the incredibly useful and secure mail client built on Mozilla framework. Firefox is the browser I use, which is also extremely secure and faster than Netscape or IE (by my experience).

There are fringe setbacks due to the convenience bias associated with the lingering dominance of poorer programs like IE, but the benefits far outweigh the sluggishness and lack of security that are synonymous with Microsoft.

Other than that, no big news here. It rained inordinately yesterday all around the Philadelphia area -- lots of flash floods and the like. I've been watching the Democratic Convention in the wee hours (next month I'll be doing the same night owl gig, watching the Elephants on C-Span as well -- yes, I'm a junkie), and I have a few thoughts brewing that I'd love to share, as soon as they come together a little more -- say, in the next 12-24 hours.

By the way, I'm curious if anyone will be able to guess the relevance of the lead-in song quote to the subject matter of this post -- the irony being that I picked the quote after seeing Bono at the DNC last night, and only later realized there was another link between the lyric and this entry. Oh well, for anyone who doesn't already know, this will probably just seem stupid. Have a good day.

I want to thank the handful of folks who cared enough to offer suggestions on what alterations I should make to the blog. I have gone ahead and revamped my links a little, along with adding a few more titles.

I've taken care to try to maintain a list of eclectic sites that reflect a wide range of thoughtful observation as it pertains to different aspects of the world around us. Sorry if that explanation sounds a little too much like a Miss America contestant, but I do think it's a fair assessment.

Nobody has been dropped from the list, though it seems as if Anthony's been having some bandwidth difficulties lately -- hopefully he will be back with us shortly.

More changes may be forthcoming, though I may save a few for the next time I get the urge to alter Smedley's little universe.

"Didn't you used to be an actor?"

I can't believe I never visited this site before, but for some reason, after reading a suggestion about it on the aforementioned site by Mr. Keeme, I finally checked out WIL WHEATON DOT NET, and I have to agree it seems quite intriguing, especially starting with a page that contains a warning for first-time visitors.

I have seen the link to it on dozens of sites, so I have no idea why I never clicked on one of them before, but it's pretty neat stuff.

Most people have at least one or two of them to tell. I have a few myself. I want to thank Robert Keeme (at Haggis ain't Cake) for helping to bring back so many pleasant memories with a post about why he was mad at the bank. It's a pretty fascinating example of how completely out of touch a corporate customer service department can be. I had my own favorite horror story, which I added to his comments section.

I also had a strange compulsion to continue taking abuse from the corporate banking structure up until a couple years ago. That's when I finally broke down and checked into joining a credit union. Now I can't believe I didn't consider this option sooner.

Imagine a place where if you have a question, you don't simply get shuffled from one faceless customer service rep to the next; a place where you get the benefits you get banking with some large impersonal finance structure, but you still get treated like a human being; a place where the fees aren't five times what it actually costs to bring you the service for which you're paying; a place where you can earn consistently better yields on your savings than you can with commercial banks. Many commercial banks have boasted such benefits, and while I've banked with two such banks, I've found most of these types of promises to be hollow, at best.

Credit union membership has consistently grown over the years, and that's with only a relative few being aware that such institutions even exist. I don't like to use weblog posts to blatantly advertise, but if I'm going to, it's going to be for worthwhile entities, as I've attempted to do in the past. For anyone who's never done business with a credit union, especially if you're not currently happy with your bank, it might be worthwhile to check out the site for the Credit Union National Association.

"Regardless, for me it's comforting to know that all the past champions were not the favorites. Especially in a country where sometimes they like the person that gets second a lot better than the person that gets first. But if that's the risk -- to be loved you have to get second -- I'll take a few boos and hisses."
-Lance Armstrong

As Lance Armstrong found himself on the brink of an unprecedented sixth straight Tour de France victory, I saw bits of him in a press conference talking about his feelings on the insults and criticism that have been directed at him during this most recent tour. SI.com has an article on this subject, as well as on the apparently reality that not all French people hate the American who's been dominating their big cycling event.

Even as one who is not normally the nationalistic type, I'm pretty excited to think that Armstrong might be able to pull it off. My excitement isn't all about the fact that he's American, but rather that he seems like he's overcome so many hurdles to do what he's done.

This is my effort to follow the example set by Fox News (well, maybe not quite like that), and a tip of the hat to Glenn Reynolds, one the the premiere linkers in the blogosphere (though I may prefer the term blogiverse instead). I think I'll just point out two articles about different opinions on the same matter. Specifically, the matter at hand is Sudan.

U.S. Congress declares 'genocide' in Sudan: Annan, Powell urge Sudanese government to disarm militias

Sudanese criticize U.S. Congress genocide resolution

(If not for these mentions, I was about to succumb to a prevailing sense of blogathy that had come over me today; well, if not for these mentions on Sudan and my sudden preoccupation with the blogging glossary over at Samizdata...)

"I Wish In The City Of Your Heart" by Robley Wilson

I came across something interesting at Christian Conservative, a blog by Michael Gallaugher. In his post "God at the highest order of things", he observes a couple basic points.

One is that the words "Christian conservative" sometimes paint a misleading picture in people's minds. I'll admit that the label, for me, has been besmirched by religious-minded folk who seem to have dedicated themselves to a pervasive take-over of U.S. politics. I have found that I probably agree with Michael on more than I would have thought just judging by the title. For starters, I am a Christian, even if I don't like the conservative part so much.

The other point in his post deals with the struggle over the supposed separation of church and state, and the misconceptions people have about this phantom constitutional provision. For that point alone, the history referenced by Gallaugher is worth noting, especially for those who believe the words "separation of church and state" actually appear in our Constitution.

Even so, he isn't embracing the religious take-over of government structures by pointing this out. In fact, he balances the debate quite reasonably on the other side, complete with Bible references, illustrated by an interesting analogy from military marksmanship training. Anyway, I found that discussion intriguing and thought I'd point it out.

Senate hopeful Hoeffel arrested in Sudan protest

It appears there are people willing to make considerable noise about the situation in Sudan. One thing that interested me about the Joe Hoeffel story mentioned above is that more than a couple political observers have identified his arrest as a publicity ploy. It definitely is, though critics claim it's all about grandstanding in the months leading up to an election in which Hoeffel will face the grandfather of Pennsylvania Senate politics, Arlen Specter.

I guess that's the nature of politics, but I have a hard time bashing Hoeffel for taking a stand on an issue of which so many people aren't even aware. For me, this will be the first weblog mention of Sudan, and given the frequency with which I dip into political commentary, I know I'm a little late jumping on the bandwagon. It's not that I haven't given it thought; it just didn't seem glamorous enough.

For Arlen Specter's part, it isn't as if he's been completely silent on the issue of Sudan. He just hasn't spoken out in a way that hits Americans over the head with what's been happening in Sudan -- but maybe we need more visible reminders than we've been getting.

So, if it takes a handful of grandstanding politicians to make it seem more glamorous, thus waking up a dormant electorate to an important issue, I'm okay with that.

I want to extend a special thank you to an extremely good friend who bothered to bring a website discrepancy to my attention. Almost exactly four months ago, I posted an entry entitled Linford's Angel. In it, I mentioned, among other things, that there was a free (and completely legal) MP3 download of one of my favorite groups singing the Beatles' "Let It Be." I mistakenly failed to notice that I was linking to a page on their website entitled "MP3 Rarity of the Month".

Well either that, or I simply didn't think March was ever going to end.

So, now that I've added a corrective note to the end of that entry, I am now going to encourage readers to go to that page for this month's free legal download from Over the Rhine. But a few words of warning first, depending on the delicacy of your sensibilities, you may find it offensive (though I definitely didn't). For most people it will be one of the following: hilarious, strange or just plain useful (if you're currently in the process of potty-training?). And also be warned that it will most likely not be available in about nine days -- unless July (unlike March) actually does last forever.

"People are trapped in history and history is trapped in them."
-James A. Baldwin

I've always enjoyed a good story. I have stumbled, many times, upon the truth when I was simply looking to be entertained. When I was younger, somewhere in my early teen years, I found the book I have mentioned more than once over the past few weeks, a book called Remembered Days. When I first began reading portions of it, I didn't realized for some time that the book was about my own roots; I'm not even sure I knew that it was non-fiction. That was a time in my life when I looked for many different things to read (-a habit that has, unfortunately withered a little over the years).

I became fascinated by several poems/meditations in that book by a woman I later came to realize was my great-great-aunt Mary Agnes (someone I never met, as she passed on long before my time began). These writings were as formative to my early writing inclination as were the works of Walt Whitman, and yes, even Shel Silverstein.

Fast forward almost fifteen years -- It was Christmas in the late nineties, and my father pulled out a scraggly, handmade journal that was kept by my great-great-grandfather in the mid-nineteenth century. It contained different types of writing, from personal accounts of his days to a few drafts of poetry. I wondered, as I read one poem, if Mr. Henry White had been influenced by Whitman's earlier works, much like they had always inspired me.

At this point in my still young life, I had already scribbled in the better part of a dozen journals. As I read the handwritten thoughts of my ancestor, it occurred to me that this particular journal, with its amateur hand-stitched binding, had weathered a century-and-a-half, to be met by my eyes. I pondered for days after how I felt about the chances of having my own scrawled words read by my great-great-grandchildren. I wondered if, like me, he had written in many other journals as well. I wondered if he ever conceived of his words being read 150 years later.

I will confess these thoughts frightened me a little. My private prose was not nearly as elegant, nor was my penmanship form remotely as well-crafted as his. I probably didn't write more than a couple journal entries over the month the followed that discovery. But now I can think of it sometimes, the possibility that my descendants might stumble across my private journalism, and I hope maybe they'll be able to learn something about history that the school books will not be able to offer them -- gain a perspective that will give them the kind of value that I gleaned from the private diary of Henry White, as well as the published accounts in Remembered Days.

I have to admit I now relish the idea. Is it the desire for immortality, or is it just the need to try to connect with people I'll never meet? Is it the same reason I started journalizing online last year via this weblog? I don't know, but the thought of communicating, of perhaps offering something uniquely useful to someone who might not find it elsewhere, definitely appeals to me.

Prophet or Profit? Energy chief, religious leaders dispute God's role in utility price spiral

I ran across this 2001 article, thanks to a post on a blog called Profundities that I just discovered. Apparently, it's a relatively new blog (judging from the archive listings), but I ran through the past month or so of entries, and am finding it fairly interesting so far. The above linked article is referenced in a post entitled "The Spin Zone: On Spinoza and Kenneth Lay." The post mentions Spinoza's Ethics, and introduces the article, one in which Ken Lay makes some fascinating self-judgments (mainly about how he believes his business conduct is on par with the teachings of Christ).

Keep in mind, at the time the interview was conducted, Lay's company had not yet been exposed for its bad accounting practices -- the main ethics question being covered at the time was whether Enron was taking advantage of Californians by hiking energy prices. It's an intriguing article.

I had mentioned (and excerpted from) a book called Remembered Days a while back (6/11/04). It is a basic account of the history of the family of Henry White of Yorktown, New York. Henry White was my great-great-grandfather. My family has had a copy of the aforementioned volume for as long as I can recall. I read through it, mostly in bits and pieces, while I was growing up.

I didn't expect that post would get much of a response, especially not from anyone who had detailed knowledge of the book or its subject matter. Which is why I was somewhat surprised to be contacted by someone who has done some fairly extensive research on the family and the neighborhood in which they lived. It has been interesting to receive additional information, some of which either pre- or post-dates the book, along with other information that runs concurrent to the published account -- sort of filling in certain holes in the text.

Receiving some of this information has reintroduced old memories and reignited dormant curiosities. Of course, what little first-hand information resides in my head is somewhat unreliable, not just because of time, but also because of the early age at which it was acquired.

The interesting part is I had been considering doing more research on that part of my family history since I dug out that old book again a couple months ago, and now I have been presented with a chance to learn even more than I thought I could. It's intriguing to think I may be able to learn new things about my ancestors that might actually help me reconstruct my family tree, something I used to see as just scattered branches.

"The foolish man seeks happiness in the distance;
the wise grows it under his feet."
-James Openheim

I have always been the plaintive type. Sometimes people get confused and assume I'm forlorn. But for a long time now, especially since I got past some of the difficulties of youth, I've been a happy person. There are times when I'm not outwardly pleased, but for the most part I'm happy. I can't explain it exactly. I take heart in knowing I'm heading in the right direction (the unhappiness strikes when I get off-track).

I've always known people who don't like to hear, read or see sad stories; I've been fascinated by the reality that some of these same folks who avoid sad tales also seem more prone to general misery. I'm not sure why. It seems as if they believe they will protect what happiness they feel by sheltering themselves from any suggestion to the contrary. I'm someone who regularly dwells on melancholy, sometimes downright melodramatic, subject matter, and I don't know why it is, but beyond the time actually spent thinking about them, such things generally don't sink my mood. Meanwhile, some other people who actively avoid the melancholy get much more weighed down by it. But the point is that people who aren't really happy seem to cling to any shred of a happy appearance.

As a composite, these people seem to have at least this one thing in common: they seem to be looking forward to something else, usually off on the figurative horizon. They complain about not having the things or living situations they would prefer. Too often, even among people claiming to not be obsessed with money, the goal of happiness goes hand-in-hand with some financial achievement.

There are a thousand bits of wisdom pertaining to happiness that warn about the faulty logic of linking happiness to material gain, but I don't know how many people are listening to things like that. And it's not even as if happiness has to mean you drop all your personal goals, because for all I've seen, the happiest people I've ever met (and I've met a few) are rarely complacent about this type of thing. Because happiness exists independent of material gain, it neither requires nor shuns ambition, but it does allow people to put their goals into perspective. I know this because, while I don't have much experience with material gain, I am consistently happy as a person, even though I haven't given up on improving myself or my skills yet.
Though I can't find the exact phrasing right now, I recall a Pierre Teilhard de Chardin quote that goes something like this: "we are not human beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a human experience." Maybe having this perspective is what allows me to be happy, even when things are far from perfect. It's the fact that I believe in something larger than me, larger than whether I ever make a six-figure salary or own a big house, that allows me to escape the miserable trap in which so many people willfully ensnare themselves.

It's hard to find happiness in such an imperfect world without the faith that there is something more -- and without that, it's downright impossible to find consistent happiness. Which is why I wonder about people who flatly deny a spiritually-based existence, if there's any way to find a meaning in life that way. That must be an arduous way to live. But perhaps some people are so uncomfortable with the idea that they don't control their own fate that the only suitable belief they see is to not believe in anything they can't explain.

Some people make happy sound so hard, but I don't think it is. There are many who can't stand not being exactly where they want to be someday, but I'm fairly happy just as long as I'm on my way.

"You say you've had enough... well I've had one too few,
'cause I'm a whole lot closer to sober than I'll ever be to you."
-The Guilded Lilies

This is just a quote that almost nobody will have heard at this point, but I was thinking about obscure music, and so I chose the lines above to represent those thoughts. The Lost Dogs CD I picked up at their show last week has really been growing on me, and I thought I'd mention that as well. I also recommend Andre Salles write-up on the disc -- something of a historically framed review of the album -- for those less familiar with the Dogs.

-and speaking of music that gets lost, I was combing the papers and online news sources yesterday, when I caught a couple different mentions of this item about U2 losing music from their forthcoming album, which apparently has been tentatively named Vertigo. One newspaper that had the story in the entertainment section started it by saying they'd heard of people complaining that music has lost its edge, but never a report of the Edge losing his music -- which is what happened in this case.

As a U2 fan, I had lamented the loss until I realized the only reason it was such a big deal to the record company was the idea that they might lose revenue if the music falls into the wrong hands and gets distributed illegally. But since I'm pretty sure they have other copies to use to make the album, it doesn't sound so bad to me.

"My November Guest" by Robert Frost

"I'll pick you up,
I'll set you down,
we'll fall in love
if you want to."
-Terry Taylor

Why do people expect easy relationships?

This isn't to suggest that a good relationship has to be absolutely hellish, but why do so many people run away at the slightest sign of difficulty?

Is love just supposed to be this feel-good, do-it-when-it's-convenient, sort of thing? I think not, but I sense I'm not in the majority.

I recall watching the movie When a Man Loves a Woman with a girl I was dating several years back (wow -- it didn't really feel like 10 years to me). After watching the movie, she commented that she expected it to be a more of a love story. Hearing this comment from her marks the point when I realized she wasn't the one for me. This was an easy realization because I came away from the film with the exact opposite impression, that it was a pretty good love story. It wasn't as flowery or dreamy as she seemed to prefer, but it was definitely a love story. Not knowing anything about it prior to watching it, I was almost disappointed in advance, because I expected more of a lightweight storyline.

For those not familiar with the plot of the film, it's about a couple where the wife is an alcoholic, and the husband is somewhat unaware as the problems grow; but as the story unfolds and the marital crisis deepens, the husband comes around a bit, never gives up on his wife, and they find their way back to each other. It's a love story, but without all the Hollywood fairytale touches (except maybe in the happy ending).

Anyway, without urging everyone to run out and rent it right away, I should just say it's a somewhat reaffirming story, and one that doesn't glorify the easy-way-out theory, which is a bit too prevalent in our culture today.
I think (-based on more relationship detail than I care to divulge-) that my girlfriend at the time chafed at the more somber tones of the movie's storyline, the suggestions that love might require more than is convenient. She wouldn't have been alone in that feeling, which is probably more disturbing to me now than her feeling was at the time she revealed it to me.

I have this idea that maybe a majority of relationships fail because the people involved never really agreed to terms in the first place. Perhaps we think we're in agreement, especially as we stand together, blinded by the glow of romance, but we rarely think to spell out what we're agreeing to. In high school, I learned that the first thing that's needed for an effective agreement is a clear definition of terminology. If John and Jane come together and exchange the words "I love you," assuming they both mean what they're saying, can we predict lasting relationship? It depends on several factors, maybe the most important of which is whether or not "love" means the same thing to both of them. And even then, they might both be agreeing to a definition of love that does not require a very significant commitment.

But we are a society that chafes at the idea that we should have to do anything that we deem as difficult or painful. Why do you think politicians are afraid to tell us they'll raise taxes or cut services, even when they fully intend to do so? Most people are in favor of love, so long as it includes things like financial security, good health, great sex, and other general trappings of superficial happiness. But bring a crystal ball to a couple at the altar (assuming you could) and assure them that there will be squabbles, poor health, a trip to the unemployment office, assorted financial difficulties and bad habits to endure -- how many young, "in love" couples would still say "I do"? I don't... know, that is.

Maybe the most heartbreaking moment is when you think you're with someone who sees love the same way you do, only to discover down the road that your concept of love and your partner's concept of love are irreconcilably different. I've felt that way. Even when the relationship isn't serious, but it seems to have potential, to see that glimpse of a definition of love diametrically-opposed to your own -- it's hard to accept sometimes.

I've met quite a few women who have no taste for the difficult version of love I was raised on, but my own incurable romanticism has somehow kept me hopeful all this time. And maybe for a little while longer...

Smart or decisive -- what'll it be America?

I am referring to this AP poll about the two major presidential candidates. Seems Bush is strong on decisiveness, while Kerry is perceived as intelligent.

The real problem is that neither quality seems adequate by itself. The conundrum seems as complete as any other, in that the ideal is a balance of the two, not an overwhelming dose of one or the other.

There are some extremely decisive examples of failure in our history, as well as some instances in which over-thinking seems to have gotten people into a lot of trouble.

I could support a man like George W. Bush, simply based on the strength and confidence inspired by his decisive nature. The problem with the President, as I see it, has more to do with his need to find and listen to more people who will be willing to tell him things he may not want to hear, as he has been willing to tell us some things we may not have wanted to hear. This administration is more monolithic than the 2000 Bush/Cheney campaign let on, and I can't convey how much that disturbs me sometimes.

I like his decisive nature, but sometimes the direction of his choices scare me a little, and I wonder if he (and the country) wouldn't be better served to take in more advice from differing perspectives.

John Kerry, on the other hand, seems both intelligent and often incapable of taking a public stand on the tougher issues. I had written a while back about the Democrats having difficulty carving out a distinctly different personality, and how that failure to be more proactive could hurt them against a more decisive incumbent with a somewhat devil-may-care approach. Because of Kerry's perceived indecisiveness and the contrast it presents to voters, there could be a cost in terms of more moderate voters who simply want to elect a true leader as opposed to a populist.

Bush is more appealing to those voters, and he knows it; his campaign has already begun capitalizing on this contrast. There are people who just want to know where their leader stands on things, and there are people who want to know they can trust their leader to give adequate thought to his decisions.

Then there are those of us who would like a little of both.

Omni's point about romance

I have been reading this new blog lately. It's called Omni's Blog. The blogmistress at Omni's has a knack for de-constructing common concepts and practices we take for granted. It's hit and miss for me (mostly because I have a pretty short attention span), but she often comes up with interesting takes on things.

On Monday, she wrote a post called "Why do we need romance?" In it, she makes a few observations about the hypocrisy that may exist in our cultural romantic traditions. And who among us hasn't wondered why it's okay to buy flowers and expensive food to woo a date, but it's somehow morally repugnant to fork over cash and dispense with the formalities? I'm not saying I favor prostitution, but Omni's points do make a little sense. She sets up the question, asking how most women would feel if they had to bribe their men to have sex with them.

It's not my usual topic, but I find the discussion interesting.

Since I was at an amusement park last week, I guess it was only natural for me to dwell on the following analogy:

There are a few moments at the beginning of any roller coaster ride where the cars are being lugged up a hill. The longer the climb, the more collective dread tends to build in the occupants of the coaster cars, as riders anticipate the sudden feeling of weightlessness that will ensue once the cars begin their steep descent. Maybe some riders are so jaded, so confident that there is no sense of thrill as the drop approaches; but at least a few riders, like me, hold onto some sense of wonder, some uncertain thrill about the ride that is being undertaken.

This is where I am right now. It's summer. I am, of course, still gainfully employed, as I expect to be come autumn. But when the autumn arrives, I expect to be continuing in school again, in addition to working. It's not new, but I feel a similar sense of anticipatory dread as the next semester approaches. Sort of like sitting in that roller coaster car, waiting, as the links of a chain drive click below me, realizing I'm drawing closer to the point when the plunge will begin again.

I find that this is where I function best. Having begun the acceptance of a challenge, still not quite certain I can handle the challenge I am accepting, I somehow feel a sense that I will survive it. I feel strangely confident, maybe faithful, that I will succeed in this. I hope.

Perhaps it's a strange thing to anticipate with over a month to go before the ride really gets going again -- but it's starting to build once more.

Strange thing...

"Angel, angel or devil,
I was thirsty, and you wet my lips."
-U2

I don't know what this post is going to be about, except that several ideas have been stealing across my mind.

One is that my vacation is officially over today (until next month, that is), and I always hate returning to work after more than a few days off. The first day will undoubtedly be the hardest, so as long as I can weather today, everything should be just peachy, right?

Another thought is that I had a unique last day of vacation, saw things I've never seen before, did things I've never done, and got slightly befuddled in a whole new way. Any guess that my confusion was about a female would be correct, but that's enough of that...

The remaining thought is that I was wondering how all these campaign finance reform purists feel about talk radio (you know, all the ones who sprung out of the woodwork to harp on Michael Moore's movie and its ads breaking the spirit of the law). Just think of all the free advertising that is gift-wrapped and handed to conservative politicians by folks like Rush Limbaugh, Sean Hannity and Bill O'Reilly. Yes, I know O'Reilly obstinately clings to the notion that he doesn't favor any particular side, but who is he really kidding -- isn't that just about as convincing as the FNC slogan "Fair and Balanced"? And please, nobody send me any reminders about Air America or whatever liberal stragglers still exist in talk radio -- I realize it's the same paint brush, just dipped in a different color.

But the point of that last paragraph was that there is at least as much confederation between most conservative talking heads and the Republicans as there is between Moore and the Democrats. Rush and Hannity exist just as much to get Bush re-elected as Moore does to get him beaten.

And my little diatribe may have spilled into a debate of how McCain-Feingold may have actually tipped the balance more in favor of big money entities (think George Soros) that have so often acted as weeds attempting to strangle grass-roots political fervor. Well, it would have spilled into that, but I can't really concentrate on politics right now; so this will have to do for a while.

A 100 year-old South African man has just broken the 100 meter record -- for centenarians, that is. It's a fascinating story, especially considering there are probably people half his age who couldn't duplicate his running feat (pun intended).

While away for the past few days, one of the things I did was help set up, break down, and in between, watch, a little live music show performed by The Lost Dogs. It was quite enjoyable, as they are a band that has always put on an engaging live show. Their hallmark would seem to be stupendously harmonic vocals coupled with the kind of excellent musicianship that can be expected from three guys who've been slinging six-stringers since the seventies.

Their work tends to blend rootsy, folksy blues and rock with a spiritual flavor. I've only seen them a couple times since they came together as a group in the early nineties, and the word of mouth on their performances pretty much jibes with the decidedly professional yet unpretentious atmosphere I've experienced when attending their shows.

"The Grammar Lesson" by Steve Kowit

Ahh. Back just in time to suggest another cool poem most people probably won't bother to read... I guess grammar's not that popular in the internet culture anyway.

"It must be summer, 'cause the days are long;
I call your number, but you're gone, gone, gone."
-Fountains of Wayne

The Fourth of July Holiday has almost passed us now -- all that's left is the proxy holiday today (to make all of us who work Monday-Friday schedules feel like we got our proper day off). Of course, it matters not to me, for I am officially on vacation, as I am most years right around my birthday, so I would be off work today anyway.

I will be taking some time out of town for a few days, but I'll get back to this on Friday or Saturday, hopefully. Until then, life will be a torrid mix of nieces, nephews, live music and amusement park rides. Happy Monday!

So, there I was on a warm Saturday evening, and not otherwise engaged, leaving me to wander down to the local mammoth electronics outlet. I had previously spotted a couple MP3 players that I thought looked good, as well as reasonably priced, and I had them on my mental list as I approached the proper aisle. The first obstacle I found was the absence of any of the three players I had been considering. Having been temporarily thwarted on my quest, I kept wandering.

Eventually, I wandered around to the section of the store where portable CD players were being sold. On a whim I wandered into that particular aisle, not expecting to buy anything from it. Then I started to notice a few of the models on sale were designated as MP3 compatible. I proceeded to ask a salesperson about them. He explained that while they were not nearly as compact as regular MP3 players, they were capable of holding much more music than comparably-priced players.

I eventually settled on a Sony CD Walkman D-NE300. The salesman convinced me of its potential uses as not only being able to play music CD's and MP3's, but also a format called Atrac 3 Plus. It included a CD to install the software to make these mysterious new Atrac recordings. Now it's Monday, and having had a day or so to experiment (I've successfully burned a 230-song Atrac 3 Plus CD, with over 200 mb to spare), I think it's a fantastic gizmo to have.

What's better, I actually paid less than the list price listed on Amazon, so I feel pretty good about it right now. For that price, I could have obtained an off-brand MP3 player with less than 1/10 the storage capacity of the 700 mb disc I used to create my first Atrac collection. While I do think it's pretty cool, I'm not sure I'm going to waste too much time converting future tracks to the Atrac format. While it is more compressed (64 kbps, with surprisingly good sound quality), I can probably get by just using MP3 format, as I don't especially care for the functionality of the Sonic Stage software needed for maintaining Atrac on my computer -- it's somewhat proprietary, therefore much less versatile than other formats.

But the player is more than I was hoping for when I set out on my original quest, as I haven't had even had CD Walkman for several years; now I have the MP3 player and CD player combined.

As I said, I think it's pretty cool, but then a lot of folks out there probably already knew they had this type of thing. So it's probably just new to me. Which is new enough.

I just decided to post another little poem, and I'd be pleased as punch if anyone decides to read it, but be forewarned that it is somewhat gloomy, though I suppose that the style I chose for it leaves it fairly sanitized of sentiment. Which, I guess, is what I probably would have hoped for, had I had any actual hopes when I started scribbling it a while ago (reminding me of the quote from Robert Frost that is currently headlining the Drafts index page). To get a fresher view of the new rhyme, you may want to read it (I promise it's short) prior to reading the explanation that will appear once you click
It is about a first-time experience I had a couple years ago, when I accompanied my father to the vet to have one of our dogs put down. It's easily one of the most profoundly sad experiences I have ever been privy to.

Up to that point, I had never witnessed the moment when life physically leaves a living creature, and I was stunned at how suddenly hollow a set of eyes could become. I could have sworn that I was seeing it happen, though from a realistic perspective (which I seldom prefer), I understood that the numb expression in our dearly departed canine's eyes probably had much more to do with the overwhelming dose of anesthetic that had been injected than with any metaphysical phenomenon I fleetingly believed I was observing.

I also remember knowing that in our family, my father had often been saddled with the hard responsibility of seeing off sick pets in this premeditated way, and I recall deciding to take off a day of work just so he wouldn't have to do that alone again. Looking back, now knowing how the experience made me feel (assuming my father's inner reaction was even remotely similar), I'm glad he didn't have to be the only one there.

Having written all this, I now wish I had incorporated some of these other thoughts into the poem, but it's most likely better that I didn't, as I do believe short, bittersweet and bordering on sterile are a better combination than overwrought and mind-numbing -- something I fear this post is rapidly approaching. Thanks, as always, for reading.

This is just to wish everyone a good July 4th, even if you're reading from a country that doesn't recognize the holiday as we do here in the States.

Bill Cosby had more criticism for the ills of the minority community in a speech at a Rainbow Coalition gathering in Chicago. I second Cosby's comments, and not just for minorities, but for the younger generation in general, especially as it pertains to the damage that is done to society's overall education level.

Too many kids are going around trying to fit a bad stereotype. I think it's good that at least a few still have the strength to stand against bad trends while so many others are still apologizing for them.

Well, my birthday is over. It wasn't incredibly eventful, at least not in terms of what needs to be shared here, except one thing: I saw a film. A triumphant little comedy called Napoleon Dynamite. It's a rare movie, especially by my calculation, in that it manages to be quite hilarious (in an unapologetically weird sort of way) while still fitting into its PG rating. It isn't necessarily a story for young children, but it also isn't one that most parents will be ashamed to have their children see.

While one shouldn't expect this movie to change lives, it is both subtly sweet and subversively funny (as someone else pretty much described it on IMDB). The movie tracks the story of a high school misfit and his small circle of friends and family.

Napoleon Dynamite is currently in limited release (I had to visit my favorite art house theater to see it), but I would be surprised if it doesn't catch on with mainstream theaters sometime in the not-too-distant future. The glowing word-of-mouth on this film (the reason I went to see it) is pretty much the only significant advertising it has received, and I have to say the praise seems justified.

This movie may be an instant classic, especially to those of us who have fond memories of moon boots.

"You're only young once, but you can stay immature indefinitely."
-?

In the past twenty minutes, a whole year passed.

I remember a decade or so ago, talking to a friend of mine who had just helped her daughter celebrate a fourth birthday. She thought it was so funny that her daughter woke up that morning and mused aloud that she didn't feel any older, yet somehow, in the time between going to bed the night before and awaking the morning of her birthday, she had advanced a whole year -- like the bed had been a time machine to transport her into the future, all the way to the magical land of four.

I have often felt that way -- wondering about this preoccupation we seem to have with milestones and benchmarks. We celebrate the birthday, but we don't celebrate each passing day, each passing minute? Am I not older from one instant to the next? Of course I am, and though I recognize today as the occasion upon which society declares me a year older, I really don't feel any different compared to yesterday. I don't even feel much different from ten years ago.

I'm absolutely sure I'm a vastly different person from a decade ago, but perhaps I'm in an extended state of denial. Perhaps my ignorance of certain milestones allows me to concentrate less on the passage of time, and more on the things I see everyday. Too many people miss those little things, often losing them in the glare of the obvious.

I'm different now, to be sure, and I do ache a bit more than I once did. But all that doesn't scare me so much. I do sometimes fear losing my fascination with the little things, but what frightens me more is that I may not even miss it.

"On Turning Ten" by Billy Collins

(Perfect birthday poem)

"Governor Bush and I are also absolutely determined that [we] will restore a tone of civility and decency to the debate in Washington."
-Candidate Dick Cheney
(Aug. 4, 2000; during a campaign speech.)

"**** yourself."
-Vice President Dick Cheney
(June 22, 2004, to Sen. Patrick Leahy in the Senate chamber during an argument about Cheney's ties to Halliburton.)

Okay, so I'm a little late with this one. But it does seem to tie in with the many discussions involving the lack of civil discourse (especially in the wake of Mr. Moore's rude little film that conservative groups have found so threatening).

Well, at least he regretted his outburst... oh, that's right, he didn't, did he?

Hmmm.