Blog Master G

Yesterday was another gorgeous, sunshiny day. We spent more time in the front yard, enjoying the sun and all that spring has to offer. We ran some errands, then my mother-in-law came over for our third BBQ of the season. Before eating, we walked around Congress Park, where it really felt like summer, and enjoyed a stroll down Broadway, where people were teeming everywhere.

We returned to the house and fired up the grill. It was so warm that we had left the back door open most of the day for the dogs to run in and out as they pleased. After a delicious dinner, we had settled in to watch Desperate Housewives. Then Jen exclaimed, “There’s a mouse!” Leaving the back door open had apparently allowed critters other than just the dogs to come and go as they pleased. Sure enough, a mouse had charged through the dining room and into the office. Our first reaction was to send in the dogs (they killed a Kinderhook mouse last month). But they proved with their obliviousness why cats, not dogs, are synonymous with mouse hunting.

Regardless, I’m glad the dogs didn’t get to the mouse since he was just a cute little baby mouse. And a fast one at that. After scurrying around from one side of the computer to the other, I was finally able to cup him and scoop him up. I hurt the tip of his tail in the process, but he was otherwise OK (he also didn’t like the flash of the camera). I took him to the edge of the back yard and released him.

Next time the little mouse might not be so lucky if the dogs see him first.

I woke up, energized and alert, at 6:30 AM this morning. This is rare for me on a weekday, let alone a Saturday with nothing on the calendar. I had fallen asleep shortly after 11 PM last night, not long after Bill Maher’s opening monologue on Real Time. I tried to go back to sleep, but my mind wandered about everything I wanted to do today (walk, run, rollerblade, read). So I got out of bed, did sit-ups and push-ups, made coffee, walked the dogs with Jen, made waffles, then we went on a guided 2-hour nature and wildflower walk through Saratoga Springs State Park. We spent the rest of this afternoon picnicking in our front yard and soaking in the nearly 70-degree spring sun.

View all Nature Walk photos

(Sadly and strangely, all these nature walk photos ended up at a mere 1024×768 resolution, since the camera was somehow switched from its usual 5 megapixel, 2592×1944 resolution. No matter, I suppose; I never put any photos online higher than 700×525 anyway.)

Two years ago today I was recalling my first experience teaching (at UC Berkeley Extension).

In an era when even our own government won’t take responsibility for its actions, is it any surprise that it’s more common to sue someone than to take the time to meet one’s neighbors or apologize for one’s mistakes instead of pointing the finger at someone else?

Personal responsibility waning, experts say:

“My first goal is to usher in the responsibility era, an era that stands in stark contrast to the last few decades, where our culture has said: If it feels good, do it, and if you’ve got a problem, blame someone else,” Bush said. “Each American must understand that we are responsible for the decision each of us makes in life.”

But he hasn’t taken responsibility for failures in his government, nor has he assigned it to those who work for him.

…

After Pearl Harbor was attacked in 1941, the government investigated and punished several senior military officials. Similarly, at the height of World War II, then-Sen. Truman led an investigation into war profiteering by American businesses, exposing shoddy work and saving billions of dollars and thousands of lives.

After the United States was attacked in 2001, Bush resisted attempts to find flaws in the nation’s intelligence or security apparatus. Once he relented, investigations found fault, but Bush didn’t assign responsibility or take it.

Investigations also faulted intelligence services for wrongly stating that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction before the United States invaded. Again, Bush didn’t assign responsibility or take it.

(Thanks, Jonty, for the link.)

This week I’ve been getting Yahoo IM spam from chred222. This morning I had this waiting for me, which, cheesy as it is, actually conveys a nice sentiment:

Every night, someone thinks about you before they go to sleep. At least 15 people in this world love you in some way.The only reason someone would hate you is because they want to be just like you.There are at least 2 people in this world that would die for you.You mean the world to someone.Someone that you dont even know exists loves you.When you make the biggest mistake ever, something good comes from it.When you think the world has turned its back on you , take a look again. Always remember the compliments you received. Forget the rude remarks. So if you are a loving friend, send this to everyone on your list including me

Two years ago today I wrote about Laci Peterson’s body having been found the day before.

Eco-porn: Great Sex For A Good Cause:

Tommy and Leona are having sex on a tree stump in the middle of a Norwegian clear-cut. Leona, with a mop of brown dreads and a lip ring, looks dreamily across the demolished forest as Tommy, a little shaggy in nothing but a knit hat, works his magic.

A few minutes earlier, Leona and Tommy stood at the same spot lecturing about the evils of industrial forestry. But now they’re moaning in feral ecstasy, overcoming the powerful negativity of the place — the broken branches and dried-out logs — with the juices of the life force itself.

Welcome to F–forforest.com (FFF), a porn site with a difference. Along with raw, explicit images and videos with scenes like the one described above, FFF is well stocked with facts about the world’s forests. On the Web site, naked sylphs share space with graphs of forest loss over time and exhaustive lists of the benefits tropical rain forests provide to society.

It’s official: Britney Spears is having a baby! Rejoice! How weird would it be to be an international pop star and feel the need (or pressure) to share your most personal details with the world? Oh wait, I’m not an international pop star (or AM I?), but I constantly feel the need to share my life with the world. More power to you, Britney!

First there was the home page (beware 1995 Web design), then there was the Web site (the Internet of 1997), the e-newsletter (my personal commentary in a weekly e-newsletter started in 1998), then the blog (I can trace mine in its current form back to 2000), the podcast, and now the vlog.

I stumbled upon my first vlog earlier this week when I found Rocketboom, a daily vlog hosted by Amanda Congdon, whom you may recognize from a CVS commercial. It’s pretty good. And surely takes quite a bit of effort and dedication to produce a daily video for online distribution. (I thought it was hard to come up with daily topics to write about.)

How long before we’ll be plugging into the VRlog? (Remember when virtual reality was the big thing?)

NFL Cheerleader blog

Apple’s Tiger, Burning How Bright?

With gas prices on the constant rise, one good thing about not living in San Francisco anymore is not having to pay $3.19 per gallon for supreme, the good stuff my WRX needs. Here in Saratoga Springs, gas is around $2.59 a gallon for higher octane (93 on this coast vs. 91 in SF).

As I’ve written in the past, I think rising gas prices are a good thing. Folks who are smart and responsible enough to drive a Prius won’t feel the pain, but those who feel the need to drive the biggest and baddest SUV on the block will pay for it at the pump.

And most people probably don’t realize just how good we have it — in a global sense (as with most of our other “only in America” comforts in life). Our gas prices are nothing compared to those in places around the world like the Netherlands ($6.48 per gallon), Norway ($6.27 per gallon), and Italy ($5.96 per gallon).

There’s a reason why most of the cars in Italy don’t look like suburban assault vehicles.

Make a Pledge to Stop the Bankruptcy Reform Giveaway

Thanks to Zak from Algeria for his kind words and hoping that I will “live in peace and have 10 childrens beautifuls like u and ur wife.”

Having never read the graphic novels, Frank Miller’s Sin City is nothing like I expected it to be. It’s also like no other movie I’ve ever seen. And two days after seeing it, I’m still thinking about it.

If you haven’t seen Sin City — the movie, as opposed to the porn site of the same name that owns the sincity.com domain and looks quite a bit like most movie Web sites — what you probably know about it is that the cinematography is a trip — black and white film sprinkled with sporadic color and the occasional comic book-esque shot. You probably also know that Quentin Tarantino has something to do with the film, but you’re not quite sure what (he was the “Special Guest Director,” and Alex and I suspect he directed the middle of the three vignettes of the movie). What you probably don’t know if you haven’t seen the movie is how intensely violent it is (though you probably could’ve guessed since you knew Tarantino had something to do with it).

Sin City begins and ends with what might be the same story. But you’re not sure. Sandwiched in between are three somewhat connected stories of a man, his woman, and their adventures in Sin City, the thread that ties them together. In between is a lot of bloody violence (dulled a bit by the switch to comic book style imagery), naked women, and stunning camera shots.

Each story is narrated by its respective protagonist and at first, you’re not quite sure what to make of each. Do you hate the character? Sympathize with his cause? What does he have to do with the other characters? Does he have super powers (this is based on a graphic novel)? The tone and writing of the film is poetic, borderline cheesy, if not a throwback to movies with cliche plot lines from a bygone era (“it was my last day on the force…”).

Sin City made me tense the entire time I watched it. I wasn’t sure if I liked the movie. But I enjoyed watching it. Only after reflecting on the movie and letting it sink in do I realize that I did like the movie. But I don’t think I’d see it again.

It really is a movie like no other.

All the other neighbors had already done it. Today was our turn. We cleaned up all the leftover fall and winter debris from all around the house. To make the job easier — and to get at the pesky leaves that wedge their way into the hedges surrounding most of our yard — we invested in a new 200 MPH/285 CFM gas-powered leaf blower (50% at Sears, not a bad deal despite its not having come in a box or with instructions). While researching leaf blowers, I learned that only certain gas-powered blowers can be purchased in California (certainly due to the strictest emissions standards in the country). Our leaf blower would probably be illegal in San Francisco. Of course, who the hell needs a leaf blower in the City by the Bay?

So we spent the entire afternoon — probably three or four hours — blowing and raking and pruning and cleaning. When all was said and done, we had filled our one yard can (probably 60 gallons) and two 30-gallon leaf bags full of debris. Gathering one hundred and twenty gallons of leaves, pine needles, and other yard junk is no small task. But it’s a satisfying one. We also busted out our four solar-powered garden lamps and positioned them strategically around our house.

The front and back lawns now look great — like Jane and Sarah, we have improved our curb appeal — and are officially ready for spring and summer, and all the parties and glow-in-the-dark bocce ball the outdoor seasons will bring. (We broke in the grill last night for the first time since last year, too.)

After the yard work, we enjoyed some beers on our front lawn while basking in the glorious spring sun. I awed at the deep blue richness of the sky with not a cloud in sight. It’s funny to think that just over two months ago, the temperature was 14 below 0.

Today we also performed the ceremonial shutting off of the heater to give it a rest from its six-month-per-year job.

Four years ago today I was job hunting. Two years ago today I was having wedding anxiety dreams.

“You are what you repeatedly do. Excellence is not an event — it is a habit.”
-Aristotle

As I complete my third week of daily push-ups and sit-ups, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to consistency. It’s a powerful concept and often how we achieve goals in life. Whether it’s accumulating more than 1,100 blog entries over the course of many years, creating a work of art, earning a college degree, reaching financial landmarks, or going to work every day, consistency can make us feel better about ourselves, have something to show for our hard work, or simply achieve an inner peace or sense of satisfaction.

I think consistency is more than routine or commitment. A routine is something we get used to doing, for better or for worse; it’s not necessarily planned or sought after (waking up, showering, eating lunch). Commitment is a part of consistency, but it’s more about the mental dedication. Consistency is deciding you’re going to do something. Then doing it. And doing it again. And again. It’s getting into the habit of achieving a goal, whatever it takes.

If you’re consistently exercising, you’re going to feel better about yourself — maybe lose weight, maybe have more energy. If you’re consistently paying down your credit card debt or contributing to a retirement account, you’re going to to reach your goal — slowly but surely. But the only way to do so is through consistency.

In the excellent 2003 surfing documentary, Step Into Liquid, the one story that sticks in my mind the most is that of Dale Webster, the Northern California man who has surfed at least three waves every single day for nearly 30 years, no matter what. Whether he was sick or his wife was giving birth to his daughter, he was out there in the ocean, doing what he loves. That’s more than commitment. That’s fierce consistency. That’s a man who’s surely reached and maintains inner peace and discipline on a level far beyond what most of us can probably comprehend. I’ve barely been alive for 30 years, let alone been doing something consistently for that long.

Last night cousin Jack and Kim hosted an open house in their latest architectural restoration. It’s amazing what they’ve done to the 1917 Albany home in need of much TLC. They don’t restore homes full-time; they do it in their spare time. I’m amazed by what they’ve achieved not only with this latest home, but with their own home and in others. They do so consistently in project after project. I admire their dedication and consistent achievement.

I firmly believe that any of us can accomplish anything we set our minds to. Reaching the goal requires commitment, perseverance, and, most of all, consistency.

As part of research for this entry, I searched my own blog’s archives to see if I’d previously written about Step Into Liquid. I hadn’t, but when I did a search for liquid, I found only one result — Deep Thoughts – HOW TO SURVIVE IF YOU FALL INTO A CESSPOOL — which I posted two years ago today. Serendipitous.

There’s a new comedy club in town. Opening this Saturday night, CJ’s Nitelife will be a year-round addition to the plethora entertanment options here in Spa City. We’re already known the world round for our thoroughbred racing. There’s the harness track and the racino. There are all the bars and day spas. There’s the NYC Ballet every summer. SPAC. Soon we’ll have UPH. And now comedy. It’s a city of leisure and debauchery. I’ve often said all that’s missing is a brothel. Partnership, anyone?

The controversial Herb Chesbrough, who’s been running SPAC for years, has settled his severance package. SPAC will continue to pay his $5,000 health insurance costs plus $100,000 salary for life. Must be rough. Especially after running an organization whose “net assets have plummeted more than $6 million since the late 1990s.” And many blame Chesbrough for putting the NYC Ballet’s future commitment with SPAC at risk, due to the cost outweighing the income. Though it’s not yet finalized, the ballet’s future looks like it will be secured at SPAC, thankfully, beyond 2005. Marcia White is SPAC’s new president, and so far, she seems to be taking things in the right direction. White will be the featured speaker at the April 21 Saratoga Chamber breakfast, which I hope to attend.

Last night I watched the first three episodes of season 1 of Alias. I think I’m hooked on yet another TV show — ’cause, you know, I don’t have enough favorite TV shows already.

Jenna in Dirty Disco Dance