Thursday, March 31, 2005

I Like Birds III: birds of a feather


It's easy sometimes when you just coast along
But like it or not something always seems to go wrong
Sometimes people build you up just so they can knock you down
Sometimes they will have you there 'cause they need someone around
Perhaps you'll receive invitations for tea
Perhaps you'll laugh and make them all smile
Or maybe you'll join them 'cause it had to be
Perhaps you'll forget you forgot for awhile

Birds of a feather are flocking outside

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

I Like Birds II: the cage


But then this bird just flew away
She was never meant to stay
Oh to keep her caged would just delay the spring

Sunday, March 27, 2005

I Like Birds


I don't care for walking downtown
Crazy auto-car gonna mow me down
Look at all the people like cows in a herd
Well, i like
Birds

Dreams: Rabbit-man XII (Rivers turn to oceans)



oceans tide you home

Sunday, March 20, 2005

Hailing from parts unknown...

wrestling

i like to wrestle. sometimes i wish i had done it in junior high and high school. i did go to a few practices my 7th grade year, and i probably even went to a meet or two. i don't know how i quit going, but i did. i guess it was just another sport that my parents weren't sure how to encourage or if they should. growing up i tried soccer, t-ball, basketball, and swimming. i never got any of them right. maybe staying in wrestling would have been fun. i think i could have done alright.

i think that the reason i like to wrestle is that it's such a all encompassing activity. you're using your arms, your legs, and everything in between to the maximum level all at once. at the same time wrestling is terribly exhausting and i'm always so nervous before i have to wrestle. it's a test of the basic elements that make up what you are... unable to be estimated, but confirmed measurements as you put your body up to the next challenge. to me, wrestling seems that it's an awful lot like rock climbing, except you don't have to worry as much about gravity. i'm still on the verge of a panic attack, but i'm just not going to fall.

maybe the fear before wrestling accounts account for the scarcity of wrestling. i've probably only wrestled twice in the last 10 years. the other reason i can think of for not wrestling is that i'm worried i'll pick an easy fight. ¿what good is it to beat someone that wasn't a challenge at all? i don't want to pick an unchanging match, so i'm sure get in well over my head.

i was down in New Mexico, working as a trail crew foreman at Philmont Scout Ranch. i had taken my crew over to visit another crew at the other crew's invitation. the other crew wanted to host a dinner, and we let them feed us some fried chicken. the after dinner tour of camp included the introduction of their wrestling ring. the other crew had pulled all of the rocks out of the ground in this space between a few trees. the ground had been tilled up through the search for rocks and multiple wrestling matches. i wanted to wrestle.

the two fears kicked in. the excitement that someone was going to kick my trash and the smaller concern that i won't pick a fair fight. so, i looked around the two crews and found the assistant foreman who was both taller and heavier than me, extended a hand in his direction and said, "you". the challenge was accepted and i was sure i was on my way to getting killed.

we both entered the make-shift ring and began the face off. i can feel the sense of complete panic just welling up inside of me. i've committed to the match by stepping into the circle, but i'm much too nervous for the match to start. facing each other we rotate as my mind shifts through all of the worst possibilities. i don't want to be the first to reach for my opponent, because i'm afraid that he'll take advantage of my poor attack. i don't want him to come after me, because then we'll be wrestling on his terms. you can see that my mind has already decided that i cannot win no matter what i choose. my mind continues enveloping itself in the mire of panic. i can already feel the suffocation of being pinned to the ground, unable to move in spite of all of my will to break free and the only physical contact we've made is with our hands brushing away outstretched arms as we make a few swipes to measure each other's reach.

wresting is never long when measured by a clock, but whether i'm winning or losing a time period to rival the history of the earth seems to fill my brain. i might not win this round, but while i'm out there i'd be happy to avoid being completely helpless as i'm held to the ground. i have put myself in the wrestling ring.

that was a few years back, but guys haven't changed much. everyone is still looking for some way to challenge themselves. i live in a college town just a few blocks south of campus, so it wasn't that strange to have the next door neighbor come by announcing the neighborhood wrestling night. of course i had to go. would i wrestle? maybe. i got nervous just at the thought.

i watched a few of my neighbors wrestle. one match went back and forth for so many times that it was hard to tell if there was a winner. would i have enough endurance if i had a match like that? i kept waiting to see if someone would get there that i could wrestle. i'm only 5'10" with my shoes on, but i weigh more than 210. i at least needed somebody close to my weight. i finally decided that one of my upstairs neighbors seemed the closest to my size. i was asked if i was going to wrestle and i went out to the floor.

i began a match again with the uncertain circling. i was out on the mat, but unwilling to complete my commitment. after too much time to size up the competition i heard someone say, "Aren't you going to wrestle?" Then we made real contact.

there are rewards to the panic that i can feel. the next few moments were frantic. at one point, i had rolled my opponent into the couch where the portion of the audience occupying those seats lifted their feet off the floor to keep from getting their legs pinned against the couch. i felt pretty good when my opponent's roommate said, "he's throwing you around like the rag doll that you aren't!" the panic was full on and i was scrambling.

the floor was covered with a bamboo mat, and my bare feet kept sliding across its surface as i tried to maneuver the other wrestler. all of that movement across an alternately smooth and rough surface caused me to peel the skin off of the inside edge of the pad of both big toes. i didn't know that i had self-inflicted that damage until i was moving back to my seat after the match.

i don't know if there was a pin to end the match, but we must have come to some agreement that we were done. i thanked my neighbor for the match and he said, "if it means anything i felt completely hopeless from the beginning." the open wounds on my toes were going to be a pain, but i had felt the high i had hoped for.

i don't know how long it will be before i wrestle again, maybe never. i'm moving out of the age-group where guys just do stupid stuff because they can. i hope all this doesn't sound like too much of a brag. i do realize that i might not be picking fair fights. i've never gone up against someone who's had a lot of wrestling experience and i might be misjudging my size-class to my advantage. i do know that i'll be tempted if the opportunity presents itself. i will feel the same panic, and i'll still probably wonder if i would have had fun if i had continued to practice and wrestle in school.

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

i just don't understand the music business

i just can't get myself to watch MTV. it just doesn't mean anything to me.

my roommate flipped to the channel and started watching "Making the Band". if you're unfamiliar with this show, it's puff daddy's version of 'American Idol'. already the title is a little confusing. i grew up with the idea that a band consists of people who play musical instruments, but i guess i was wrong. "the Band" in "Making the Band" is basically just a bunch of folks who can follow the choreographer adequately enough and do some fancy karaoke while they wait for their pretty faces in the video to sell the record; the McDonald's version of music - mass produced, low quality, but it sells because the american public is afraid of what's not familiar.

and then there's puff daddy. okay, i know that he calls himself p. diddy these days, but i can't take either name very seriously. the names would be okay if it weren't for the fact that the diddy does take himself that seriously. ¿and how come the music industry takes him so seriously? ever since diddy's CRAPPY remake of Led Zepplin's 'Kashmir' (which followed that awful heisting of 'Every Breath You Take' from The Police) i've been trying to figure out just what the difference is between the puff and Weird Al; two guys with goofy names who take other people's music and put their own words to it. Al isn't unfamiliar with writing his own songs either, so don't start telling me about puffy's "original" works. Al has never had the same kind of respect from the music industry as puff and Al has had plenty of successful records to earn at least some respect.

come on Al. maybe you should just buy a little jewelry, put your name on some gym clothes and maybe you'll weasel your way into the hearts of the mainstream music industry. i'll be waiting to hear news about your upcoming show.

Thursday, March 03, 2005

Happy "If Pets Had Thumbs Day"

hey folks,

i just thought i'd wish you all a happy If Pets Had Thumbs Day.



the original art work is from www.toothpastefordinner.com, where you can find a huge archive of odd and funny doodles.

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

the joys of science

"An intact frog loses water nearly as rapidly as a skinless frog."
- Animal Diversity, 2nd ed., page 313
(C.P. Hickman, L.S. Roberts & A. Larson, McGraw Hill, 2000)



---

"For Science" - They Might Be Giants - Miscelleneous T

Newscaster:
There has been a spacecraft sighted
Flying high above the sky
Sirens declare there's one among us from Venus

Lt. Anne Moore:
Volunteers, we need volunteers
Soldiers to meet them
Have no fear
Have no fear
You will be killed right away

Male Lead:
I will date the girl from Venus
Flowers die and so will I
Yes, I will kiss the girl from Venus for science
I'm so brave
I'm so brave
I'll be her love slave

Lt. Anne Moore:
He's so brave
He's so brave
He'll be her love slave forever

Male Lead:
Yes, I will date the girl from Venus
Flowers die and so will I
Yes, I will kiss the girl from Venus for science

Let's get those missiles ready to destroy the universe!

Tuesday, March 01, 2005

A Final Word on Peanuts


This post was originally written in early 2004. This is where you can find the final conclusion as to why there is no longer a M.D.H.O.P.A.I.R. newsletter.

---------

peanuts

the peanut is an interesting little fruit. the peanut is fairly simple and often easy to overlook and possibly undervalue. a can of mixed nuts touts it's quality by ensuring the consumer that the percentage of peanuts is less than half of the mix, peanuts being the cheapest nut of the bunch. the peanut is a metaphor for things small or of little value. the minor cost of an item may be expressed as costing only peanuts. unwanted and trivial comments have been referred to as coming from the"peanut gallery". one galaxy visible from earth's surface has beennicknamed "snickers" because it is peanuts compared to the Milky Way. (think about it.) even disparaging remarks towards a former president use the peanut as a measure of insignificance when Jimmy Carter has been referred to as a mere "peanut farmer from Georgia" who somehow made it to the White House. but the little bean still holds a place in society in pop culture and beyond.

one of the most long lived advertising spokesmen is Planters' Mr. Peanut. the peanut is a nostalgic baseball snack still sold inthe stands. ("buy me some peanuts and cracker jack...") the peanut is nearly the final result to which the airline food service has been reduced, and let's not forget Charlie brown and the other charactersfrom the classic comic strip "Peanuts". the peanut was a portion, and sometimes the only portion, of civil war rations for the southern armies, inspiring the writing of the then popular folk tune "GooberPeas". with efforts to make the peanut a more profitable crop, a healthy alternative for the land instead of cotton, George Washington Carver found some 325 uses for the plant. not only did the peanut become a leading crop in the South but it helped to place this former slave, educator and agricultural scientist in the public eye long before the civil rights movement, as he worked withthe U.S. Department of Agriculture and southern farmers.

even the peanut sandwich spread is nearly synonymous with childhood memories in America. ¿what childhood isn't measured with a few peanutbutter sandwiches at some point in time? there are plenty of creative variants to the standard PB&J wrought during those childhood years, and nearly everyone knows what side of the issue they stand on when it comes to creamy or chunky. when someone mentions giving a little peanut butter to a household pet, it gets a chuckle out of nearly everyone because so many have been there for themselves at one time or another. we should also recognize that there are more than just anational peanut day and month, but also national peanut butter and peanut brittle days and months.

it should be apparent that the peanut does have this capacity to be both common and significant all at once. the question could be asked, ¿when is the peanut ever out of place? here is a good place to start that story.

there's that place where you wear clothes that you don't wear during the rest of the week, the background noise of daily life is subdued, and thoughts are supposed to be focused on higher topics. sometimes that place is called church. enter the peanut. i had one, right there in my pocket. not just a single seed, but a whole legume, fibrous shell and all, and i was going to put it to some use.

seeing a friend who i thought would enjoy a little gift, i held my fist straight out, knuckles pointing towards the ceiling in the understood sign of "i have a surprise for you" and waited for the reciprocal sign of the receiving hand. the signs were given, a peanut was passed, and i left to the next meeting without a verbal exchange of any sort. not then, not later that day, or week or month or ever. the peanut itself was all the message there was. not that there hasn't been a verbal recognition later on as to the exchange of ownership of a little nut, but that is all that has been said and it was probably wasn't even that day.

now, ¿what is better than one peanut? ¿could it be any more obvious? more peanuts.

soon enough peanuts were being left behind on my visits to the apartment of the poor recipient of that first peanut. there were peanuts in the candy jar, a peanut taped to the front window, and eventhe title caption for a "Peanuts" cartoon for the front door. a peanut is easy to draw on a dry erase board, a simple blob w/ an odd little hourglass shape. a small jar of peanut butter was left next tothe couch. i sang "Goober Peas" every so often when they'd let me get one of their guitars in my hands. i even dropped of a belated birthday present of government issue dry roasted peanuts, straight from an MRE (Meals Ready to Eat).

the web is a wonderful accomplice. it's just so easy to cut and paste information about peanuts, George Washington Carver and even a few recipes and send them on their way. an email from the receiver of all these peanuts that announced her new email address was a fortunate little mishap that left me with a copy the addresses in her address book. not only did it prove to be an educational opportunity on the cultural value of the peanut for many people, but it was also a lessonon the use of BCC. soon enough, all those who had a mailbox large enough to receive a small MP3 got to hear Burl Ives sing "GooberPeas". that was followed by a couple of newsletters that, at least in part, discussed the merits of the peanut.

the best part about the email snafu was that now other people were asking my friend "why peanuts?" and with a little nudge, a younger sibling would sing his rendition of goober peas. i'm not even present and peanuts find their way into the conversation. ¿isn't that great?
after all this, the reason for the first or any of the subsequent peanuts has not been given. ¿are you sure you really want to know?

it was the end of christmas break. each roommate came back to school with his load of new clothes and other christmas gifts along with a fewthings that each mother thinks her child might need at school. one ofthe roommates came with a very odd selection: a huge bag, the bulk cereal variety, of peanuts still in their shells. ¿why would anyone's mother buy them a huge bag of peanuts to take back to school? they take up a lot of space and aren't very convenient. besides the production of the larger pieces of shell when trying to reach the seeds, cracking the shells open results in a fallout of little fibers and powdery flakes.

there it was; a huge bag of peanuts bought at random by someone's mom and left on the kitchen counter. soon enough they were being eaten, even though they weren't the most convenient. one sunday morning a few found their way into my pocket for the walk to church. (outside the dust and flakes are free to fall where they may.) i estimated one peanut too many; the extra peanut.

yes, ladies and gentlemen, rounds of entertainment through the peanut that lasted nearly two years can be attributed to the simple fact that they were just there on the counter one day. you could say there was no reason at all, other than the fact that i liked peanuts enough to eat them when they were free for the taking and i knew a few random facts and how to abuse the web. harassment via peanut for no reason at all.

"I hate television. I hate it as much as I hate peanuts. But I can't stop eating peanuts."
- Orson Welles (1915-1985)