Poor Paul.
After a long winter suffocating indoors, my Garden Frenzy is beginning. I'm plotting the raised beds, poring over seed catalogues, reading up on Square Foot Gardening and peat-pelleting tiny sprouts in a wee heat-matted plastic greenhouse.
Gardengeek == me.
In addition to the tiny wee garden I'm going to put in to our sideyard (I think, with path, we've got about 40 ft2 to work with), B and me and her friend S are going to start a communal garden in B's backyard.
Here's some of what I'm planting:
Trellis
Peacevine Cherry Tomatoes
Yellow Pear Tomatoes *
Moon and Stars Watermelons (3-4 lb kind)
Japanese Climbing Cucumbers
Lemon Cucumbers *
Kentucky Wonder Pole Beans *
Green pole beans *
Heirloom tomatoes, kind to be determined +
Muskmelon, kind to be determined *
Non-Trellis
Orange Bell Peppers
Purple Bell Peppers
Jalapeno Peppers
Cayenne Peppers
Banana Peppers *
Gypsy Peppers *
Corno del Toro Peppers * (Shut up! I like peppers!)
Edamame Beans
Eggplant, kind to be determined *
Spinach -
Lettuce -
Green of some other sort, probably arugula -
* = Seed Exchange with my buddy K in CT
+ = Seed Exchange with my neighbor N
- = Not bothering to start; will buy from farmer's market
I'm starting extra. Anything that doesn't fit can be placed in the communal garden. Thinking of growing the hot peppers in one place and the sweet peppers in another to prevent cross-pollenation. Anyone know if you can grow cukes and melons real close together without getting muskumbers and cukelons?
Also, if anyone wants to do a seed exchange with me, and you see something on the list that's mine (doesn't have a *, + or - after its name) drop me a line and I'll send you some. I'm looking at you, tishalro.
Whee!
So, on the Incredibles DVD, we found out that "Boundin'" director, Oscar winning Pixar Animator William "Bud" Luckey was responsible for the lyrics, animation and music for all the best Sesame Street counting animations, the ones that still haunt my skull and can be retrieved from the murky depths of my memory with no more prompting than saying ".. and one last thing, please do include ten apples for dessert." Yes, that's right -- Four Big Lions, Toucan Two-step, That's About The Size (aka "Infinity") The Alligator King and his Seven Sons, Ten Tiny Turtles on the Telephone, A Lovely Eleven Morning, and last and best The Ladybugs' Picnic -- all these were by Bud Luckey.
My brain nearly collapsed in on itself.
Then I sought refuge on the internets.
Here I found some amazing stuff, which I am sharing with you:
Sound Clips for The Alligator King and his Seven Sons, Capital I, the Ladybugs' Picnic, Lowercase n (She's not lonely an-y mo-o-ore!) and The Pinball Song can be found here.
And these:
Pinball Number Count (DJ Food Re-edit - Special extension by Strictly Kev)
C is for Cookie (Funky version - Special Disco Mix by Larry Levan)
C is for Cookie (Sweet version - Special Disco Mix by Roy Thode)
And this cover band -- the Dead Hensons -- who do kickass covers including Dr Teeth's 'Can You Picture That', and 'Exit (Way Way Out)'.
Prepare to have your nostalgic s0xx0rs r0xx0r3d.
Public Announcement
Dear friends, family, acquaintances, and political representatives,
If I am diagnosed by a capable team of medical doctors as in a "persistent vegetative state" with "no hope of any cognitive function," let me die. Help me die quicker, if you can.
I am, in case there was any doubt, perfectly serious.
Thank you.
(Borrowed from Art. And yes, I am dead, deadly serious.)
I nearly had a breakdown this morning when my espresso-maker stopped working. I did some research online and the only acceptable replacements all cost $250.
I did the only sensible thing: the Vinegar Frenzy. I ran two full cycles with 1/2 rice vinegar and 1/2 water in and then two full hot water cycles. Good heavens, the calcium gunge that collected in the basket! I guess we have harder water than I thought.
Good news is: it works again.
MmmmmMMmmm coffee.
So the other day, Paul stood up to a intern in his college department who was casually using the word "Gay" to describe stuff he thought was stupid. The student got very defensive, but you could tell that Paul had got through to him, so much so that the student fired off a clarification email that same night... at 1am.
Here's Paul's response, with names edited to protect the not-so-innocent:
Hey, thanks for writing the note. There was some unfinished stuff yesterday, and I wanted to be clear with you as well. I'm also sending this note to the other interns, since they heard our exchange and I want to be clear with everyone.First off, I DO NOT think you are a bad person/hater/homophobe, nothing like that. I think you're a basically good guy; smart, intelligent, wanting to be helpful, willing to learn. If I didn't think those things, I wouldn't have even bothered to bring up my objections to you using the word "gay" as you were. And to also clarify, I would have said the things I did to ANYBODY who I felt needed to hear them, so it was not a "PERSONAL" attack in the [Design Center] on you to humiliate you in front of the other interns.
BUT
It was something that I feel really strongly needs to be said and commented on.
First off, let me say I am the first in line to make fun of stuff and have a goof on anything that moves. Done it my WHOLE life and will continue to do so. But I've also seen in the past years people having a very "casual indifference" to the word "gay" in using it to mean "lame", "stupid", "silly", "weak", stuff like that. The truth is, I see that similar to using an ethnic slur like "nigger", "Jap", "wetback", or "chink", because while someone might not mean to be cruel in saying "gay", they are still using a word that carries a lot of hurt and stigma to people who are actually, well, _gay_. Not to mention the fact that it might cause problems if you "labelled" someone as gay and they were attacked -- verbally or physically -- because of it. Chuck D talked at length about the attempt of the black community to reclaim the word "nigger" and, by owning it, defuse it. He said he felt that was a mistake; that "nigger" was, is and always will be a negative word, used to berate and spread hate, and should be dumped from the language. It will NEVER be a positive word.
And while I know that there are instances to use the word "gay", using it indifferently is really kind of irresponsible, because there are people who are gay and have had to live with "fag", "homo"and "queer" used against them as hateful words that did put them in fear and apprehension of who they are. I have many gay friends, and all of them have at one time or another mentioned that they didn't like the casual indifference to using "gay" as a generic slam term, equivalent to saying "Oh, that's so BLACK of him to do that." Most gay people I know (as well as black, or any ethnic/sexual orientation) are proud of who they are, and have no problem with letting others know this. But most also take offense when terms are just randomly interchanged because it makes a better slam on someone.
Here's my thought: If you mean "stupid", say something's stupid. Or dumb. Or dorky, And if you mean someone's an asshole, call them an asshole, a jerk-off, a fuck-up, call them what you mean. If you call something "gay" and mean it's dumb or wimpy, it takes a powerful word and makes it interchangeable and opens you up to misrepresentation. Many people have gone through a lot to admit to themselves and others that "gay" or "lesbian" applies to them and their lives and is an important part of their lives and who they are. It's important for others to be respectful of that fact as well, even when we don't understand all that it entails.
That's all. As you and the other interns get out into the bigger world, you're going to meet others, and I hate seeing well-meaning, intelligent people undermining their positive aspects by using powerful words incorrectly. To a lesser extent it's why I don't like hearing people say "these ones" and "those ones"; it's just bad grammar, and it's so easy to speak correctly, why not do so and make yourself sound as intelligent as you actually are? Same with "gay"; say it when you mean it, and say "asshole" when you mean that. Except when you're at a client meeting. That's a bad thing.
Thanks for listening,
Paul
I am so proud to be married to this guy. I'm equally proud to have B as my friend, especially since she lets me tamper with the minds of her students. Here's her response to Paul's mail:
This is a conversation I have about once a day. No kidding. High school kids say, "That's so gay!" all the time and I tell 'em to back up and explain what word they would substitute for it. It's usually stupid, lame, weak, or some other word that means "worthy of scorn". High school kids are extremely fucking homophobic--they haven't thought a lot about other people's personal freedoms yet--just their own..
Some of my colleagues even say it as their way of fighting my "oppressive PC attacks"...yeah, I'm a REAL bastard. They think it's funny to try to get a rise out of me, but I've lived with smack-talkin' boys all my life, so I know how to play that game. I've never been caustic or shrewish with colleagues or students--I just let them know in a calm, gentle way that it bums me out and probably anyone else around who might be gay. Or I threaten to use the atomic elbow--whichever feels most suited. I did have to explain to one coworker that perhaps I should emulate his syntax and interchange the word "republican" for "gay". Or how about "Christian"? I hear people still using "Jew-ed", after all...
I understand Lenny Bruce's project--but he was very careful about his purpose; I can respect that. I can't respect someone who's just trying to be hip or whatever. Ingratiate yourself some other way, damn. And we're all smart enough to get the irony and/or the absurdity of an extremely intelligent person choosing to be vulgar, but again, are we all just supposed to assume you're a swell guy?
Just last night at T's hockey game, I was sitting with some fans--all of whom I like and enjoy their company--when a member of the other team made a foul and was arguing with the ref. Now our fans are known to take things to the absurd level--often getting rather vitriolic in their tone and comments. My theory is that these are skinny, un-jock-like, hipster kids who think it's funny to act like...soccer hooligans? And sometimes it's funny, sometimes it's not. Anyway, the guy behind me starts yelling at the guy on the ice, "You fucking pussy--stop crying, you faggot. (Something something) fucked in the ass!" Now most people tittered because it was so over-the-top, but I couldn't just let that fly. I turned around and smiled and said, "HEY! you know, as a gay person, I take offense to that." (I think most of the people in the stands know I'm married to T, but I was trying to make a point.) And this guy laughed and said, "Well, as a gay person, you should welcome it." I knew he was referring to the aforementioned act. I just paused, smiled, gave him the slow up and down once-over, looked him directly in the eye and made the, "Let's see what you got, then" gesture with my hands. He blushed and that was that.
It's a hard one to deal with because I don't want people to think I'm sanctimonious, for cryin' out loud. I just want people to think a little more, that's all. I don't want people to stop being vulgar; let's enjoy the seedier things as well as the more refined--I think my objection is born from the fact that we are not an equal society yet. Gay and lesbian people are not treated as equals and do not get treated with the same respect any random hetero gets. Maybe if things were more balanced it wouldn't sound so bad, or maybe it would lose its bite--don't you think? And thus, using words like"gay" in the pejorative would lose its appeal. Which is what it's all really about and what people don't feel comfortable analyzing.
Oh yeah, and T said I did the right thing. Which is nice, because I don't always! (Irish temper.)
Thanks again,
B
So last Friday my buddy B, whom I've mentioned many times before, got some of her students into a poetry slam. She and a couple other teachers organized it, alongside veteran slammer T_, and they had about ten competitors. B teaches to both advanced students who are taking collegate-level English and Writing courses while still in High School, and she's also Chief High Buttkicker of Language over at the alternative high school.
I was expecting the slam to be a little weak, kind of like those high-school assemblies you keep checking your watch throughout. Having done Forensics competition, I know how much the talent level can vary.
I was completely wrong, and I was completely blown away. There wasn't a single weak poem in the bunch, nor a weak reader. The place was packed -- literally standing room only -- and B's three alternative highschoolers, whom I had spoken with twice before, all totally kicked butt. C, who was so nervous we were all afraid she was either going to barf or bolt -- her very first time on stage, and she stuck it out, by God. She finished that poem, and came back to read her second poem during the open-mike session. There was T, who B goaded like a mule for weeks into writing a poem about losing his mom to cancer at the age of eight. T got a perfect 50/50 score, thunderous applause and a standing ovation. Later, his father said that "If I sat down for twenty years I could never write anything that captured what we went through the way that you did." His dad was blown away. J, whom I've written about before, also kicked some serious butt. He walked the knife-edge between passion and anger but kept his message where it needed to be. I hear he's starting up an internet youth radio station, and he could be going places, if he can just keep channelling his messages like that.
If you wanna see what the slammers looked like, there's some really killer pix here, taken by B's supa-genius husband T.
I'd never been to a Poetry Slam before, and this one was so amazing that I'll be going to many more.
My buddy Tiff's son Sloan was born a couple months premature, and while they're getting ready to bring him home, they're also doing what they can to help out a good cause. Tiff's going to be doing a March Of Dimes walkathon to raise money for premature children. If you know anyone who was a preemie, or were a preemie yourself, won't you consider helping Tiff make her goal of $1000?
http://www.walkamerica.org/tslamb
And you can track Sloan's progress here:
Washington WEA votes to stop reimbursing teachers who purchase supplies at Wal-Mart.
Taking a bold political stand, the state teachers' union last week declared the fund off-limits to Wal-Mart purchases.In a newsletter distributed to teachers, association President Charles Hasse cited Wal-Mart's "exploitative labor practices (that) have added to public assistance burdens in our state and across the nation."
Hasse said yesterday that the action followed repeated suggestions from teachers to either change the policy or distribute information about the company's labor practices.
Hasse said he's received more than 200 responses from teachers around the state, who were 20-1 in favor of eliminating Wal-Mart reimbursements. "It was interesting to see the intensity of feeling around this," he said.
Attention Volkswagen:
Designing your headlights so that changing the bulbs requires a screwdriver is really, really cruel, especially when the outdoor temperature is hovering around 10F. What happened to smart design?
Gr.
How do I feel today?
Bad enough that sloshing a pint of saltwater in one nostril and out the other sounds like a pleasant idea.
I have reeeeeally got to stop listening to Stephen King right before I go to bed.
I had my first actual nightmare in a long time:
Paul and I got invited to go to this writer's conferece or something -- that detail was kinda fuzzy -- in a creepy old mansion out in the middle of nowhere. The mansion was owned by this crazy lady who was not too unlike the Winchester heir who kept building on to her house to keep away the ghosts of those killed by her family's rifles. The house was mazelike and deep, and you had to park your car way out in the middle of nowhere.
Turns out by the end of the dream that she was collecting writers and artists, not a little unlike Ozymandias in Watchmen, to show off to the numerous visitors to her house. She kept us all in this one big room and wouldn't let us out. Most of the people seemed to be under some sort of trance or something; they thought it was just part of the convention. After a while the woman started showing her true psycho underbelly and most of the "conventioneers" started to get way freaked out. I finally made a break for it, dragging Paul along and abandoning all our luggage and stuff. Paul, unfortuately, appeared to have drunk the kool-aid, because he kept dragging his feet as we made our way through the dank, hospital-like basement corridors, looking desperately for a way out without being seen. A couple of near misses later, we found ourselves in the parking lot, desperately trying to get his car started. It was covered with leaves and dust -- we'd been in that house for weeks or months. Paul wouldn't give me his car keys, and I started crying and pulling at his arm -- this isn't funny anymore and they're coming for us and I wanna get outta here so gimme the goddamned keys!
And then I woke up.
Not a plaster-man, but definitely notes of the City of Lud, which is what I was listening to in The Wastelands before I fell asleep.
So, after three or four days of finding out the actual snot capacity of my head, I decided to go for desperate measures. The claritin wasn't working so well, so it was time to bring in the salt water. I got a neti pot. It wasn't nearly as gross as I thought it would be. The stuff dribbled all over my cheek, but the feeling I was dreading -- the feeling you get after flubbing your launch off the high-dive -- never came. It was actually kinda peaceful and easy.
If you're still horrified, this guy tells the story of the neti pot better than I can, so go read his page.
Ever have your head so solid with gunk that your tooth sockets hurt?
Yeah, like that.
Last night I played out for the first time in at least six months. It felt so nice. Good tunes, good times.
Thanks, Whiskey, for having me out to join ya.