1.28.2009
Cave Canem
Today at lunch with my coworker, Kim, I mentioned that in addition to many bikes, I'd like a table saw in my future garage. The caveat with that idea though, is that table saws are scary enough when you're working on them in a shop with other people - people whom in the event of an emergency can help out. As many of you know, I'm a passer-outer, so the thought of severing a finger on this fictional saw of mine, then immediately growing faint and hitting the floor, is not something I ever want to contend with, sans nearby help. This consideration lead to the following question: at what point to I cease to be 'beloved master' to my dogs, and become edible. I.E. is the only reason Maggie and Summer aren't interested in eating my finger, that it's attached to me and not laying on its own on the floor? If we were to run this scenario with Becky out of town, me unconscious on the floor minus one finger, and the dogs watching on...well, I could see Maggie being pretty distressed about my well-being, but I think maybe Summy is going for the finger. I can probably make do without a table saw, I suppose.
1.22.2009
1.21.2009
President Cool
I've been reading Team of Rivals for about 3 months now. I haven't had any solid chunks of time to sit and plow through 30 or 40 pages in a sitting, and I've either been biking to work or not working, so all that prior subway reading time is gone. Turns out there's a bright side to reading at this slow-motion pace: one, I get to take in these Honest Abe tidbits one at a time, like a vitamin or a joke-of-the-day calendar. And two, I've had Abe as a reference point from the time of the debates through the election and now inauguration (I have a 150 pages left). What strikes me most in the book, is what a cool guy Abe seemed to be. He was awesome: slow to decide but firm in the decision; sensitive and thoughtful but put the hammer down when he needed to; lively, funny, articulate, and essentially a superheroic extrapolation of everything I'd love to be. Most of all, despite his superheroism, he seemed like a real dude.
Obama too, seems to me like a real dude. Of course I'll add the preface that we haven't seen him do anything yet, but my intuitive reaction is that Barack Obama is a good guy who will ruminate over decisions, evaluate opinions from different angles, and govern wisely. Not only that, but he has opinions on music, he likes the White Sox and not the Cubs, he has things to say that don't sound like they were whispered in his ear moments before they came out of his mouth. He reads! He's a person!
I'm thrilled because we deserve this. We deserve to be excited and inspired by our President. We deserve to read the paper without expecting to cringe or shake heads muttering expletives. And we deserve and expect some really good changes. Lots of good changes. New Deal good changes. I guess I'm setting myself up for disappointment, but repeated praise of Lincoln sites his uncanny understanding of the popular mind, and when I see Obama up there, I can't help but feel that he sees things the same way we do.
We want bold and thoughtful greatness. Good luck, Mr. President.
1.17.2009
Bathroom Renovation Ramp-up
Bec and I have been talking about remodeling our bathroom since before I moved in last June. The sullen economy coupled with my desire to break from storyboarding has made this winter a perfect time to dig in and redo our commode. To put both of our minds at ease about the project, I want to plan and anticpate the numbers and choices as best I can before crowbar hits sheetrock. I found a 3D interior program to help visualize all the changes so there will be fewer surprises with regards to shapes and colors. Unfortunately though, learning this program involves a great deal of exploratory tinkering, and said tinkering really brings out my obsessive side, which is kind of a skinny Hulk with whom I don't enjoy mingling. My eyes going green and shirt tattering around my cerebral biceps while I tried to fabricate a tile texture for the model, Bec saw me freefalling down the rabbit hole and effectively grabbed me by the collar and lifted me back to the safety of our living room and leftover clam chowder, which turned out to be just as delicious as its first pass. After dinner it was easy to see that the texture I was breaking myself trying to make is hardly necessary, so we watched an episode of The Wire. It was possibly the best one I've seen.
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