when i was a child, my grandmother instilled one guiding principle in my brother and i, when you go someplace, leave it in a better condition than when you arrived. for us boys, this usually applied to camping, or to staying at her house for the weekend. as i've gotten older, i've tried to apply this to the rest of my life, with the side-effect that i expect others to do the same.
i certainly expect my elected officials to hold themselves to the standards which i and the rest of thier constituents hold themselves. i expect that if they don't hold themselves to at least the same standard as the public, that it is the people's duty to do something about it, whether it be simply reminding them, or kicking them out of office.
i do not agree with president bush's war in iraq. it seems ludicrous to wage war on a whole country just because of one man or a small group of men. i believe that mr. bush himself stated about the same when addressing the terrorist attacks on new york and washington d.c.
but, i can't go back in time and change what the u.s. has done. all i can ask is that we make it right. we destroyed iraq's infrastructure, we are obligated to rebuild it at least to the level it was at prior to the war in iraq, even prior to the gulf war. part of this infrastructure is the oil pipeline. part of rebuilding it, is putting control of it back in the hands of its rightful owners.
please, mr. president, do right by your people. do right by your country. do right by me and my grandmother.
Saturday, November 29, 2003
Tuesday, November 04, 2003
let it snow
I hate winter but love the first snow of the year.
Why do I love the first snow of the year? Fair enough question. I live in the Twin Cities. If you’re not from here, you probably don’t realize how large they are, and you probably don’t realize how dirty they are. I’ve never been to New York City, or to Philadelphia, or to Chicago, but I bet my reasoning is applicable to them as well. I hate how dirty the cities get, and most of it is litter. The first snow falls and the discarded cigarette pack ceases to be a cigarette pack and becomes a bump in the snow. It becomes a bump the same way a rock or a pile of leaves becomes a bump. For a brief while (sometimes a long while), I stop passing judgment on the garbage and just look at the beautiful white landscape.
I grew up and have spent most of my life living in the Pacific Northwest, within an hour or so of the Pacific Ocean. We don’t get a lot of snow. I think it would be fair to say that we don’t even get snow every winter, not counting appreciable accumulation. So, the first snow brings with it a kind of child-like euphoria, that’s reminiscent of Christmas coming.
Plus, it’s not that cold for the first snow. The temperature hovering right around freezing is absolutely balmy compared to the sub-zero temps I know are coming.
Why do I love the first snow of the year? Fair enough question. I live in the Twin Cities. If you’re not from here, you probably don’t realize how large they are, and you probably don’t realize how dirty they are. I’ve never been to New York City, or to Philadelphia, or to Chicago, but I bet my reasoning is applicable to them as well. I hate how dirty the cities get, and most of it is litter. The first snow falls and the discarded cigarette pack ceases to be a cigarette pack and becomes a bump in the snow. It becomes a bump the same way a rock or a pile of leaves becomes a bump. For a brief while (sometimes a long while), I stop passing judgment on the garbage and just look at the beautiful white landscape.
I grew up and have spent most of my life living in the Pacific Northwest, within an hour or so of the Pacific Ocean. We don’t get a lot of snow. I think it would be fair to say that we don’t even get snow every winter, not counting appreciable accumulation. So, the first snow brings with it a kind of child-like euphoria, that’s reminiscent of Christmas coming.
Plus, it’s not that cold for the first snow. The temperature hovering right around freezing is absolutely balmy compared to the sub-zero temps I know are coming.
Sunday, September 21, 2003
robots in disquise
i'm a big transformers fan. love the toys, and until recently had a huge collection, but couldn't bear to pack it all up and move it to a new place, again, so sold most of it off. i collected the comics up until #75 or so, and watched the cartoon religiously after school everyday (the original cartoon) when i was a kid.
time's passed and i've made it to my 30's but still look at sports cars and imagine how they'd look if they transformed into a giant robot and blasted the heck out of some evil jet plane. :D
along comes a new transformers cartoon, transformers: armada, and i along with countless other adult-children thought we'd give it a watch. i think to a person, we all hated it. but why?
i think it's part of the pokemonization of the u.s.
it seems like hasbro and others see all this money being made in japan, and instead of trying to do something that will be the next big thing, they just buy the rights to the japanese version and dub it in english.
i know the toys are originally japanese, but the cartoon from the 80's and the comic books were american, and they were awesome.
i'm not trying to dis anime, as i'm actually a pretty big fan. the thing about anime is that it's aimed at different age groups depending upon the content, but all of them share some qualities such as the 'superdeformed' or 'chibi' characters. this is a cultural phenomenon in japan and is hard to translate to english, or i imagine, any other language.
so, the new cartoon uses styles that are different from what we are all used to and different from what we _want_ to see. i think we would all love to see a cartoon done in comic book style.
this brings me to my other point. the japanese cartoon is aimed at a different demographic than the product in the u.s. in japan tf armada is aimed at young children who are just discovering there is something in the world besides pokemon, around 6 or 7 years old. the toys in the u.s. are aimed at kids, particularly boys, in the 10 to 12 years old age group. 4 to 5 years makes a huge deal in the level of sophistication one can use in telling a story.
time's passed and i've made it to my 30's but still look at sports cars and imagine how they'd look if they transformed into a giant robot and blasted the heck out of some evil jet plane. :D
along comes a new transformers cartoon, transformers: armada, and i along with countless other adult-children thought we'd give it a watch. i think to a person, we all hated it. but why?
i think it's part of the pokemonization of the u.s.
it seems like hasbro and others see all this money being made in japan, and instead of trying to do something that will be the next big thing, they just buy the rights to the japanese version and dub it in english.
i know the toys are originally japanese, but the cartoon from the 80's and the comic books were american, and they were awesome.
i'm not trying to dis anime, as i'm actually a pretty big fan. the thing about anime is that it's aimed at different age groups depending upon the content, but all of them share some qualities such as the 'superdeformed' or 'chibi' characters. this is a cultural phenomenon in japan and is hard to translate to english, or i imagine, any other language.
so, the new cartoon uses styles that are different from what we are all used to and different from what we _want_ to see. i think we would all love to see a cartoon done in comic book style.
this brings me to my other point. the japanese cartoon is aimed at a different demographic than the product in the u.s. in japan tf armada is aimed at young children who are just discovering there is something in the world besides pokemon, around 6 or 7 years old. the toys in the u.s. are aimed at kids, particularly boys, in the 10 to 12 years old age group. 4 to 5 years makes a huge deal in the level of sophistication one can use in telling a story.
Tuesday, September 16, 2003
food on airlines
(from my trip journal in may, 2003)
i'm just now on the third and final leg of my trip from the u.s. to italy, via iceland and england. i only left yesterday evening but i have gotten the oppurtunity to experience a lot of new things, not the least of which have been my in-flight meals.
the first meal was dinner on an iceland air flight from minniapolis to reykjavik. it was delicious. and, i'm just as surprised as anyone. it started with a small, fresh green salad- romaine, cabbage, carrots, tomato and radish. the main dish was a baked chicken breast in a tangy tomato sauce with large chunks of onion and green bell pepper, all next to a generous bed of rice that was instended to be mixed with the chicken and sauce. the dessert was a 'fun size' twix bar.
the next meal was breakfast. again, i was travelling iceland air, this time from reykjavik to london. this meal was started by a warm, multi-grain roll. the main dish was a cheese omelette with hashbrowns and green beans, all on a slice of ham. i expected this to be very greasy, but to my surprise it was quite edible. this was toppd off by a complimentary cup of fresh brazillian orange juice, and while the quallity may be in question, it certainly tasted fine.
my third meal was lunch. i've finally moved on from iceland air and am flying british airways. we had a choice of cheese or chicken sandwiches and i went with the chicken. it was served on a nice multi-grain whole wheat bread with romaine lettuce and stone ground mustard. maybe it's just an american thing, but i was surprised and happy to get a sandwich without mayonaisse. there were flavored tortilla chips, called 'poppadums'. they were black pepper flavored and would have been a little too spicey on thier own, but they came with an excellent dipping sauce. the dipping sauce was minty lemon flavored, and while i was willing to try it, but prepared to dislike it, i was once again pleasantly surprised. the dip was yoghurt based and strongly lemon flavored with just a hint of mint. the dessert for this meal was double chocolate pudding, but not the kind that bill cosby hawks, the kind that actually gets baked.
not a bad experience flying interanationally for the first time, even if i do pick out the least interesting part of the trip to write about first. but, you can imagine that if i enjoy the food this much, just how the rest of my trip must be going.
i'm just now on the third and final leg of my trip from the u.s. to italy, via iceland and england. i only left yesterday evening but i have gotten the oppurtunity to experience a lot of new things, not the least of which have been my in-flight meals.
the first meal was dinner on an iceland air flight from minniapolis to reykjavik. it was delicious. and, i'm just as surprised as anyone. it started with a small, fresh green salad- romaine, cabbage, carrots, tomato and radish. the main dish was a baked chicken breast in a tangy tomato sauce with large chunks of onion and green bell pepper, all next to a generous bed of rice that was instended to be mixed with the chicken and sauce. the dessert was a 'fun size' twix bar.
the next meal was breakfast. again, i was travelling iceland air, this time from reykjavik to london. this meal was started by a warm, multi-grain roll. the main dish was a cheese omelette with hashbrowns and green beans, all on a slice of ham. i expected this to be very greasy, but to my surprise it was quite edible. this was toppd off by a complimentary cup of fresh brazillian orange juice, and while the quallity may be in question, it certainly tasted fine.
my third meal was lunch. i've finally moved on from iceland air and am flying british airways. we had a choice of cheese or chicken sandwiches and i went with the chicken. it was served on a nice multi-grain whole wheat bread with romaine lettuce and stone ground mustard. maybe it's just an american thing, but i was surprised and happy to get a sandwich without mayonaisse. there were flavored tortilla chips, called 'poppadums'. they were black pepper flavored and would have been a little too spicey on thier own, but they came with an excellent dipping sauce. the dipping sauce was minty lemon flavored, and while i was willing to try it, but prepared to dislike it, i was once again pleasantly surprised. the dip was yoghurt based and strongly lemon flavored with just a hint of mint. the dessert for this meal was double chocolate pudding, but not the kind that bill cosby hawks, the kind that actually gets baked.
not a bad experience flying interanationally for the first time, even if i do pick out the least interesting part of the trip to write about first. but, you can imagine that if i enjoy the food this much, just how the rest of my trip must be going.
Sunday, August 03, 2003
dream
i don't usually dream on vacation, something about being in a different bed. it's also something about not needing to escape while you're on vacation.
my dream comes past the mid-point of the night- just before first light. the dream is subtle and leaves the after taste of being memory.
we are all sitting together. not everyone, just the people of my vacation. my vacation is peaceful and intimate. the house is big and loud and in a constant state of flux. most people don't make the cut for my vacation, they're just someone i see while on vacation. i don't worry about the difference knowing that the at-large wouldn't understand anyways.
for once it's quiet as we are all together, and joking can be put on the back-burner. it's enough to feel the others presence. it's sunset over the water and mountains and it's not until i awake that i realize the geography is wrong. but, it's significant. it doesn't matter which way your facing when you watch the beauty of a peaceful sunset. the strength of our dreams can change which way the world turns.
as it starts to darken into dusk, talk returns; talk of swimming the night away in fields of phosphorescent algae. i stay quiet and relish in the moment contentedly grinning. it doesn't occur to me till i'm out of the dream that you grin when you're happy and reserve smiles for when you're being nice.
without saying a word, i point to the water where one, then another, then another, humpback whales, then another, rise out of the water, then another, to spray water and breathe and play. everyone sees, then another, and oohs and ahhs, while a few of us point. the last one to rise is huge and ancient, coming half-way out of the water, turning onto his right-side while still managing a spectacular tail splash.
in the waking morning it occurs to me that the whales are representations, but to me it's enough that they are whales.
my dream comes past the mid-point of the night- just before first light. the dream is subtle and leaves the after taste of being memory.
we are all sitting together. not everyone, just the people of my vacation. my vacation is peaceful and intimate. the house is big and loud and in a constant state of flux. most people don't make the cut for my vacation, they're just someone i see while on vacation. i don't worry about the difference knowing that the at-large wouldn't understand anyways.
for once it's quiet as we are all together, and joking can be put on the back-burner. it's enough to feel the others presence. it's sunset over the water and mountains and it's not until i awake that i realize the geography is wrong. but, it's significant. it doesn't matter which way your facing when you watch the beauty of a peaceful sunset. the strength of our dreams can change which way the world turns.
as it starts to darken into dusk, talk returns; talk of swimming the night away in fields of phosphorescent algae. i stay quiet and relish in the moment contentedly grinning. it doesn't occur to me till i'm out of the dream that you grin when you're happy and reserve smiles for when you're being nice.
without saying a word, i point to the water where one, then another, then another, humpback whales, then another, rise out of the water, then another, to spray water and breathe and play. everyone sees, then another, and oohs and ahhs, while a few of us point. the last one to rise is huge and ancient, coming half-way out of the water, turning onto his right-side while still managing a spectacular tail splash.
in the waking morning it occurs to me that the whales are representations, but to me it's enough that they are whales.
Wednesday, April 30, 2003
young drunk
before i forget, here's a story about a drunk lady on the bus. well, as it starts, i am at the stop and not on the bus just yet. while somewhat mild, there was a breeze blowing so i had my hood up as i stood at street's edge looking west down the street. as the bus is about a quarter of a block away, i hear plastic bags crinkling, but don't initially see anyone because of the hood. i turn just as a young woman is putting shopping bags down on the bench. "aren't you going to help me? can't you see that i'm goddamned drunk!" the bus door's open and i step on. the bus driver says, "hello". "good morning", i reply. "what did you say to me?" the drunk bellows. i ignore her and take my seat. a stop sign is temporarily replacing the streetlight at this intersection, so the bus driver closes the door and starts to pull away as the young lady is trying to put her money in the slot. she falls forward against the front of the bus, but somehow manages to stabilize against the ticket machine as she bounces back. the bus driver asks if she's alright, to which is responded, "alright? i'm fuckin' drunk!" she sit's down in one of the sideways facing seats near the front and turns to the assembled riders, "isn't anyone going to help me? i'm sooooooo goddamned drunk!" everyone totally ignores her. so at first oppurtunity she sits, if that is what you would call it, in the first available forward-facing seat. she then opens the window all the way. if we had doubted how drunk she was before, we could all smell the alcohol. at this point, i turn the walkman up, pull the hat brim down and go to la-la-land for about 20 minutes. at a break between songs while we were at a stop just before the end of the run in downtown, i hear some guys in front of me laughing. i look up and see that they are laughing at the drunk woman trying to stagger to her feet. as one of the plastic bags swings from her wrist, you can clearly see that whatever else is in there, the bottom is full of chunder. as she finally stumbles forward, the bus driver asks, "are you alright?" she replies, "damn it woman! i've been asking for goddamned help since i got on the bus!" she stepped out the door and out of our morning.
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