After owning the minivan for less than a week, Regina and I packed the kids up and headed north to Springfield, Mass., the home of Regina's youngest nephew. He attends the New England College of Beer where he studies enginering and it was time to visit the lad and his girlfriend, the eternally-patient Theresa. We had a ball. We stayed at a Residence Inn which came with two bedrooms, a full kitchen and a pool down at the lobby. Matthew was in his glory.
We didn't do much, but play tourists. Springfield is a friendly if faded town with four nice, small museums, some shopping centers and it's the home of the Smith & Wesson shooting range. After a day at the museums -- where we saw some mangy stuffed animals and some sketches of Dr Seuss -- John, Ryan and I went to the S&W shooting range. There you can fire any weapon that the gun company manufactures. I was looking forward to shoting a 9mm, a .38 snub-nose hammerless pistol and a 1911 .45 remake. But it wasn't meant to be -- the range was hosting the final days of a shoot off and we couldn't shoot until 6PM that night.
But here is the best part: The shoot off was at the final moments so the target was pretty special. It was a piece of string suspended from the ceiling at about 20 yards. A piece of string.
Later, we went to the New England Air Museum. I was expecting a few old WWII planes and a jeep but we were surprised by a bevy of Vietnam era fighter jets, a WWII B-29 bomber, a retired F-14 Tomcat, a few huge helicopters and one old civilian airliner that looks like a Rolls Royce with wings. I was floored by the F-105 Thunderchief, which flew over the fields of Vietnam and I had always assumed that it was the size of, say, an F-16 Falcon or an F-4 Phantom. Nuh-uh. The Thunderchief is HUGE, about the size of a commuter jet that flies from New York to Boston. It was incredible to think that this was seen as a viable and nimble fighter-bomber. No wonder the Air Force couldn't wait to get rid of this pig. In the words of Tim -- oink oink.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Meet The Scarlet Avenger
This is the last day of our seven year-old beloved blue bomber. We rode our Toyota Sienna to Virginia Beach, Washington DC, North Carolina, South Carolina, Connecticut, Masachusetts, Cornell University and the Palisades Mall more times than we can count. It was clearly time for a new AlbinusMobile.
Behold ... The Scarlet Avenger. It's a new Toyota Sienna with plenty of neat features and it doesn't break the bank. It has such a strong new car smell that we thought something was burning when we turned on the heat. It handles great and is even quieter than the old minivan. Nora loves the car and Matthew, who isn't exactly Mr. New Experiences, settled right in. Tim was pleased, too.
This is a cruddy picture but we took it after sundown while the kids were snow-tubing in the back yard. The ice coveed snow is perfect for the snowtubes Santa gave the kids at Christmas. Even if Dad punctured one while driving over some sticks and twigs. Cowabunga!
Bandbox -- Reports from the 1920s magazine wars
I loved Thomas Mallon's Bandbox, his comic novel about rival magazines trying t define culture and high living during the Roaring Twenties. Mallon does the impossible: he makes a distant age immediate and recognizable while using ancent pop culture that I learned from old Bugs Bunny cartoons. He also spins his yarn with a cast of dozens or rather dozen. Most novels ahev five speaking characters or so -- Bandbox has at least 12 fleshed characters and supporting players. It was a tad tough following them but after a while it was easier going.
Bandbox is the name of the leading if strugling men's high style magazine that is underseige by rival Cutaway. The editor of Bandbox, Joe Harris has a typical magazine editor's plight: tight deadlines, a crazy, disgruntled staff, and owners fighting for more ads. He has to keep the magazine pure and yet pliant enough to make money in an age when money seems to be raining from heaven. Throw in gangsters, spies from rival mags, a botched fiction contest, and a reader kidnapping -- and you have a great tale.
With the great suits, the romance that shows our grandparents weren't the Puritans we thought they were, and the wonderful settings -- it's a shame Robert Altman couldn't have taken a stab at theis book. He can handle large casts and snappy dialogue. Just check out his respected if still under-rated Gosford Park.
With Altman dead, the movie version of Bandbox can only fall to one man. Altman's protege and filmmaker in his own right: Alan Rudolf. He did great work on The Secret Lives of Dentists and Trouble in Mind, he can definitely do this. What is he up to these days? Must check imdb.
Definitely check out Bandbox.
Bandbox is the name of the leading if strugling men's high style magazine that is underseige by rival Cutaway. The editor of Bandbox, Joe Harris has a typical magazine editor's plight: tight deadlines, a crazy, disgruntled staff, and owners fighting for more ads. He has to keep the magazine pure and yet pliant enough to make money in an age when money seems to be raining from heaven. Throw in gangsters, spies from rival mags, a botched fiction contest, and a reader kidnapping -- and you have a great tale.
With the great suits, the romance that shows our grandparents weren't the Puritans we thought they were, and the wonderful settings -- it's a shame Robert Altman couldn't have taken a stab at theis book. He can handle large casts and snappy dialogue. Just check out his respected if still under-rated Gosford Park.
With Altman dead, the movie version of Bandbox can only fall to one man. Altman's protege and filmmaker in his own right: Alan Rudolf. He did great work on The Secret Lives of Dentists and Trouble in Mind, he can definitely do this. What is he up to these days? Must check imdb.
Definitely check out Bandbox.
Surging ahead, via the NYTimes?
The NY Times reports that Iraqi President Maliki told President Bush that the initial push in Baghdad has been a success. Granted, Maliki may not be the most truthful player in the area, but it's hard to see if under-playing the truth would help him in his country. In fact, he was against the surge and a failure would help him hasten the exit of American troops. How, I am not so sure. Does he want chaos?
The Times reports:
I had my doubts about the surge because 21,500 additional troops didn't sound like very much in a region that may need an extra 100,000 troops. Where they would come from, I have no clue.
The Democrats in the House of Representatives have voted against the surge with 17 Republicans voting with them against the surge. Yet, many of the anti-surgers inside and outside of Congress want the US to restore order in wartorn Darfur. Perhaps the poor people there are more deserving of US intervention because they don't suffer while sitting atop a ton of oil. More purity there.
Of course, stopping the strife is important in Darfur, but restoring some semblance of order in Iraq is a greater priority for the region, The US and the rest of the World. Perhaps France and germany can send troops to wartorn Darfur. Oh, right...
The Times reports:
The two spoke via video link and, according the statement, Mr. Maliki said, “The security plan has been a dazzling success during its first days.”
Across Baghdad, there were signs of the heightened troop presence, as cars were searched at new checkpoints and raids resulted in the arrest of at least 35 people, according to Iraqi officials.
I had my doubts about the surge because 21,500 additional troops didn't sound like very much in a region that may need an extra 100,000 troops. Where they would come from, I have no clue.
The Democrats in the House of Representatives have voted against the surge with 17 Republicans voting with them against the surge. Yet, many of the anti-surgers inside and outside of Congress want the US to restore order in wartorn Darfur. Perhaps the poor people there are more deserving of US intervention because they don't suffer while sitting atop a ton of oil. More purity there.
Of course, stopping the strife is important in Darfur, but restoring some semblance of order in Iraq is a greater priority for the region, The US and the rest of the World. Perhaps France and germany can send troops to wartorn Darfur. Oh, right...
Conservatives of different stripes
It's the calendar, people. I haven't read Dinesh D'Souza's The Enemy at Home, the conservative's argument that the American Left was partly responsible for the attacks on 9/11 and the general animosity from radical Muslims across the globe. I have the reviews, though -- mostly negative and many of them from the Right. Even a few National Review columnists have come out and said that this book is a bit much. Good for them.
One thought does come up when you read the first fiery chapter on the author's web site. He claims that although he would rather go to a baseball game with Michael Moore than a radical Muslim cleric, he probably has more in common with the radical imam. What bunk. The radical Muslim wing that attacked us five years ago and that we drove out of Afghanistan and loathes us on the web today are not cultural conservatives like D'Souza. They may both hate bikinis, Britney Spears and MTV, but there is a big diffeences. Cultural conservatives like D'Souza want to turn the calendar back to 1950. Bin Laden and his crew want the calendar back to 950.
One must admit that a thousand years will make a difference in the way the two groups interact.
This almost echoes a thought I had in the days after 9/11 when American Talib John Walker Lindh was captured at al Al Queda training camp. Most conservative pundits claimed that Lindh was a product of his Marin County upbringing. Actually, he was resonding to his parents' divorce and the fact that his father reportedly left his wife for another man. The poor sap -- a confused teenager who drifted from hip hop to radical Islam -- clearly wanted a 1950s America where mother and father build a home to raise a family. Unfortunately, with that dream shattered, Lindh turned to a radicalism that offered destructive absolutes.
And those came from an even more fare away time than the time of Father Knows Best.
One thought does come up when you read the first fiery chapter on the author's web site. He claims that although he would rather go to a baseball game with Michael Moore than a radical Muslim cleric, he probably has more in common with the radical imam. What bunk. The radical Muslim wing that attacked us five years ago and that we drove out of Afghanistan and loathes us on the web today are not cultural conservatives like D'Souza. They may both hate bikinis, Britney Spears and MTV, but there is a big diffeences. Cultural conservatives like D'Souza want to turn the calendar back to 1950. Bin Laden and his crew want the calendar back to 950.
One must admit that a thousand years will make a difference in the way the two groups interact.
This almost echoes a thought I had in the days after 9/11 when American Talib John Walker Lindh was captured at al Al Queda training camp. Most conservative pundits claimed that Lindh was a product of his Marin County upbringing. Actually, he was resonding to his parents' divorce and the fact that his father reportedly left his wife for another man. The poor sap -- a confused teenager who drifted from hip hop to radical Islam -- clearly wanted a 1950s America where mother and father build a home to raise a family. Unfortunately, with that dream shattered, Lindh turned to a radicalism that offered destructive absolutes.
And those came from an even more fare away time than the time of Father Knows Best.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
The Week In Review - Sex and Death Edition
Let's see: a case of food poisoning, one day home with the kids because of school district meetings, a farewell drink for a co-worker, my daughter's first concert, my autistic son locks himself in the bathroom, I push up the window while on a ladder and help my daughter throught the window, freezing cold temps, gliding my way through a wonderfully funny novel that I don't want to end, added a string to my acoustic guitar after a few months of putting it off, watched a few episodes of The Office (US) and it'snot even Saturday night.
This week's news: Anna Nicle Smith collapsed and died in a Hard Rock Hotel in Florida. I guess we'd be lying if we said this came as a surprise, and I almost admire that the choice of hotel showed her glittery leanings. It was fascinating to watch the news try to cover the story and to make this a serious story. You could almost hear the relief in the producer's heads as they cut to footage of her body being brought to the hospital and interviewed her close friends. Finally-- some ratings, the newsies were telling themselves. Iraq is over as a compelling story even as the war and the deathtoll grinds on. The coverage of the presidential race is premature and sadly uninspiring except for Barak Obama. Do Rudy and Hillary think America wants them as president?
But The death of ANS has sex, drugs, fame, death, some mystery and just sheer car-wreck horror. The NY Post slammed Rosie O'Donell for making comments about ANS and her drugged curent state on the morning that she died. The Post slammed her for her bad timing. I would say ROD is pitch perfect. She is now the crazy truth telling aunt America needs. I am no fan but between her and Donald Trump, I'll take the no-hit lesbian anyday. Her mission is to speak her mind and for all of her dust-ups, I thought she made some sense.
Quite a week.
This week's news: Anna Nicle Smith collapsed and died in a Hard Rock Hotel in Florida. I guess we'd be lying if we said this came as a surprise, and I almost admire that the choice of hotel showed her glittery leanings. It was fascinating to watch the news try to cover the story and to make this a serious story. You could almost hear the relief in the producer's heads as they cut to footage of her body being brought to the hospital and interviewed her close friends. Finally-- some ratings, the newsies were telling themselves. Iraq is over as a compelling story even as the war and the deathtoll grinds on. The coverage of the presidential race is premature and sadly uninspiring except for Barak Obama. Do Rudy and Hillary think America wants them as president?
But The death of ANS has sex, drugs, fame, death, some mystery and just sheer car-wreck horror. The NY Post slammed Rosie O'Donell for making comments about ANS and her drugged curent state on the morning that she died. The Post slammed her for her bad timing. I would say ROD is pitch perfect. She is now the crazy truth telling aunt America needs. I am no fan but between her and Donald Trump, I'll take the no-hit lesbian anyday. Her mission is to speak her mind and for all of her dust-ups, I thought she made some sense.
Quite a week.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
More chins than a -- do I have to finish this sentence
Behold the ravages of time!
Taken by Amy Fletcher...
A whole new you
Look, a new Blogger design. Still can't decide if I like it. The font is a bit blotchy for my taste. Maybe it will grow on me.
Gotta find a pic I like that doesn't give me three chins. (Like that's going to happen!)
Gotta find a pic I like that doesn't give me three chins. (Like that's going to happen!)
Sunday, February 04, 2007
The day before that day
Last night while eating chicken quesedillas and enjoying a margarita, I took control of the remote and freed the TV from another round of cartoons. I landed on the Sundance Channel (I think) and found a documentary on They Might Be Giants, the eccentric pop duo who came to the scene in the mid-80s.
It was pretty charming, and for a bunch of guys who were on the cutting edge of college radio, they seemed smart without being pretenisous. Even their wordy, opaque lyrics and stacatto rhythms seemed friendly and warm and even inviting although their songs usually came at you at a breakneck speed. I haven't heard Anna Ng or Birdcage In Your Heart in two decades and they still sound fresh.
In the doc, they came across as really normal guys, granted that they record phone greetings for extra dough. One John, the accordian player, is a quiet and thoughtful father of an adorable little boy while the other John, the guitar player, seems to be the kind of boss everyone would want to work for.
One thing stuck out during the documentary. The band was about to launch a new album and some scenes showed their appearances they taped for The Daily Show with Jon Stewart and Late Night with Conan O'Brien. The date was September 10, 2001. Jesus, it was so odd to see that time on a five year-old tape. It was September but people were still in a summer frame of mind: the weather was mild and th people in all of the clips just seemed lighter. They appeared to be floating with not a care in the world. Silly pop songs seemed like the perfect thing to record, listen to and promote. You get no sense that a horrific act was about to happen 15 hours later that would change the world. (Yes, I am one of those people who have a 9/10 and 9/12 mindset).
It reminds me of that day, the days before the attacks. I remember the MTV Music Video awards, which seemed over the top and pointless. I remember Jack Black promoting the new Tenacious D record -- it might have been their first and it felt like they were going to just explode. Bob Dylan had just released Time Out of Mind, or was it his follow-up, Love and Theft? I am too tired to check.
We were obsessed with Britney (was she growing up too fast), Jennifer Lopez (will Hollywood destroy her music career), Gary Condit (did he kill that poor intern?), and Bush's stem cell speech from his beloved -- and isolating -- ranch in Crawford, Texas. It seems so long ago, when the day finally arrived and the skies were clear but they would soon be overcast for a very long time.
It was pretty charming, and for a bunch of guys who were on the cutting edge of college radio, they seemed smart without being pretenisous. Even their wordy, opaque lyrics and stacatto rhythms seemed friendly and warm and even inviting although their songs usually came at you at a breakneck speed. I haven't heard Anna Ng or Birdcage In Your Heart in two decades and they still sound fresh.
In the doc, they came across as really normal guys, granted that they record phone greetings for extra dough. One John, the accordian player, is a quiet and thoughtful father of an adorable little boy while the other John, the guitar player, seems to be the kind of boss everyone would want to work for.
One thing stuck out during the documentary. The band was about to launch a new album and some scenes showed their appearances they taped for The Daily Show with Jon Stewart and Late Night with Conan O'Brien. The date was September 10, 2001. Jesus, it was so odd to see that time on a five year-old tape. It was September but people were still in a summer frame of mind: the weather was mild and th people in all of the clips just seemed lighter. They appeared to be floating with not a care in the world. Silly pop songs seemed like the perfect thing to record, listen to and promote. You get no sense that a horrific act was about to happen 15 hours later that would change the world. (Yes, I am one of those people who have a 9/10 and 9/12 mindset).
It reminds me of that day, the days before the attacks. I remember the MTV Music Video awards, which seemed over the top and pointless. I remember Jack Black promoting the new Tenacious D record -- it might have been their first and it felt like they were going to just explode. Bob Dylan had just released Time Out of Mind, or was it his follow-up, Love and Theft? I am too tired to check.
We were obsessed with Britney (was she growing up too fast), Jennifer Lopez (will Hollywood destroy her music career), Gary Condit (did he kill that poor intern?), and Bush's stem cell speech from his beloved -- and isolating -- ranch in Crawford, Texas. It seems so long ago, when the day finally arrived and the skies were clear but they would soon be overcast for a very long time.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Old Man, look at my life
I turned 42 last week. It's not a momentous age but one of those subtle signposts on the way to 50. Sweet Jesus, fifty! For some reason I think 45 might be one of those birthdays you notice and do a mild double-take. Halfway to 90. I don't think anyone in my family has made it to that age and I guess I'll have to wait to find out.
Waters hired a new editor. I came up wih the idea for the new role I am taking, special prpjects editor, but I was a bit sad at the news. I am no longer the editor of a magazine I love and I am glad that the company has finally realized that they need to add to the staff in order to grow the damned magazine. It's been a true burnout year and I have some decisions to make. The economy is good and there are jobs out there. Also, have I written every financial IT story I ever want to write? Do I even care about this topic?
It's time to get cracking. Must write a novel and get it published. Must start exercising. Get creative with MacBok and parts of my brain that are killed by my job. More fresh air. More time with kids. Less scotch.
Do I have the guts for this change? That, my friend, is the question of the day.
Waters hired a new editor. I came up wih the idea for the new role I am taking, special prpjects editor, but I was a bit sad at the news. I am no longer the editor of a magazine I love and I am glad that the company has finally realized that they need to add to the staff in order to grow the damned magazine. It's been a true burnout year and I have some decisions to make. The economy is good and there are jobs out there. Also, have I written every financial IT story I ever want to write? Do I even care about this topic?
It's time to get cracking. Must write a novel and get it published. Must start exercising. Get creative with MacBok and parts of my brain that are killed by my job. More fresh air. More time with kids. Less scotch.
Do I have the guts for this change? That, my friend, is the question of the day.
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