The More You Know

If I were ever to do a "The More You Know" commercial,
the script would go something like this:

Consuming ramen noodles does not constitute "eating something."

To your gastrointestinal tract, ramen noodle consumption is virtually indistinguishable from drinking.

You're not fooling anyone.

Why America is Doomed

I'm no different than the average person in that when it comes to corporate America vs. an entrepreneur, I root for the little guy. With that in mind I try to support local coffee shops whenever I can, be them in my old neighborhood, my old stomping grounds or other places I have haunted.

With that in mind I have made three stops now at a place not far from my house called the Global Cafe. The barista has this whole stoic Scandinavian thing going on. I have no idea if she is the owner, because she doesn't smile, strike up a conversation or even say "Boo" to me, for that matter. The last time I went in there I ordered a mocha, which was given to me unstirred (All the chocolate was stratified at the bottom).

I don't think that I need to explain to my sophisticated readership that an unstirred mocha is the bane of long distance commuters such as me. Unable to resist, I cruise along, drinking the more bitter upper strata. Just as I become accustomed to the flavor (Mentally conditioning myself into thinking that I am merely sucking down a latte or something) - Without warning the mix becomes pure chocolate. It's like what I imagine Augustus Gloop experienced in Charlie and the Chocolate factory when he fell into the chocolate river.

Did I mention that I played Augustus Gloop in a 4th grade adaptation of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory? It's hard getting any other roles, once you have played a fat German kid. You're typecast. You're that fat German kid. Good luck trying to convince anyone that you could be The Artful Dodger. I was finished, washed up. My acting career was over at 8 years old.

This morning I tried the Global Cafe for the third time. I pulled up to the drive-through and had to use the conveniently located doorbell to get attention (The parking lot was empty). I again ordered a mocha from the wooden-faced barista. A few minutes later she tried to hand it to me but instead of taking it I asked, "Could you please give it an extra stir for me?" For the first time in three visits the barista displayed an emotional response to my presence. I wish now I could tell if it was shock or disbelief. "I just did stir it!" was her quasi-petulant response. "Yeah, well, last time my drink had all the chocolate at the bottom." (I didn't bother explaining what the concept of an "extra" stir meant) She took my money and disappeared through the window. A few seconds later she popped back out and handed to me my change, my drink ...and a stir stick. A tentative sip confirmed my worst fears: stratified.

:::Sigh:::

Time flies...

When you are having fun.

I received an email yesterday. Nothing notable about that, you might say. I get about 200 emails a day, offering to help solve my credit problems, to cure my hideously shameful diseases, to rid me of my erectile dysfunction and/or hard-earned cash (No pun intended). So in the course of a day it is not really notable to say that I received an email from somebody.

Except this email came from me.

Waaaa?

I did a double take and then vaguely recalled that last year I visited a web site called "Future Me" (http://www.futureme.org) - It offers a free service where you can fill out a form and set a date for a message to be sent to you. So last year on my birthday I sent this message to myself, one year into the future:

Dear FutureMe,

Today is my 38th birthday. When you get this I will be 39. I hope that things are going OK. You fought with your wife last night and did not make up with her before you dropped her off at work. Your son is 3 years old. You gave him a bath last night and showed him how to brush his teeth. When he went to bed you read him a Thomas the tank engine book, some of the lines you speak through an empty paper towel tube to simulate a bullhorn.

I hope that you are having a good day. Make peace with your wife. Appreciate your son. Life is going by fast, don't keep your head is in the clouds and miss it.

If I could send a message back to 2006, it would be this:

Happy birthday, previous me.

Last night your wife and son took you to dinner where you consumed part of a massive ribeye steak (You are eating the rest for lunch today). Later, your wife and son fell asleep on the couch with you while you watched the Tour de France. After helping them to bed and taking out the garbage, you walked around on your lawn in your bare feet and looked at the stars. It was better than you could have imagined. Now here are the results of some sporting events that I would like you to bet a little money on...

You get the idea.

 

Cybertaxidermy

Miskowic caught himself a pretty big walleye out on the pond a few weeks back. Right around that same time Chris was taking pictures of his thumb and Miskowic accidentally got into the background. It was my job to correct this injustice for all to see.

Another example of better living through Photoshop.

Friday Video: 07-13-07

Remember these guys?

Kee-ripes... look at their hair! They had the whole flock of seagulls thing going on, plus the turned-up collars. Yet even though this video is hopelessly time stamped as an '80's song, I still enjoy watching these clowns pretend to jam in the woods, among the fall colors.

I'm not sure what all the bullfight footage was supposed to represent, though.



Artist: The Suburbs
Title: Love is the Law

Simple Pleasure #2: Stargazing

Walking barefoot on my lawn late at night, feeling the warm summer breeze on my legs and face as I discern the planets from the stars. The cool green blades poking up between my toes and giving way to my heels like a plush green carpet.

Ursa major and Cassiopeia wink down like old friends. The city lights are too bright where I live to make out the other constellations, but their component stars fade in and out like snippets of conversations overheard at a giant, cosmic party.

I used to be able to 'hear' more. Time spent in farm fields, forests and boats during my youth netted me a greater understanding of the sheer vastness of the night sky. Back then the stars used to shout at me. Now they only seem to converse with each other in their own foreign language, without pause to see if I am keeping up. I still endeavor, knowing that if I lose the magic of the stars that I will lose a large portion of my childhood that is still precious to me.

It's ironic that the more we learn about how big our universe is, the less of it we can see.

What if fossils could talk?

Here are some work doodles that I have done in weekly staff meetings over the years. They would probably mean more to the people who were trapped in those meetings with me than they would to you.

I was annoyed by a colleague's self-esteem
issues when I drew this. Look at the date. It's
hard to remember what life was like five months
before the towers fell.




Another time I was dying inside because I
was given more projects than I could handle.



Former colleagues, also overworked. One
internalizing his rage, the other on the verge of tears.





What if fossils could talk?

Belated 07-07-07

So where were you on July 07?

The wife and I were at a colleague's wedding at the Lake Como Band shell.

I didn't bring my digital camera but I did bring my mental camera, and 'snapped' this mental image of the boat rental area. I can't draw as well as I can remember, but this sketch does serve for me as a reminder of what I experienced.

NOT PICTURED:
The heat of the sun on my navy blue suit (What was I thinking?), The smell of the algae coming off the lake, the feel of wife's fingers in the back of my hair as she patiently watched me knock out the outlines (I shaded this sometime later), a kid catching a 'hammer handle' northern pike off of another dock (a little to the left of the area I chose to sketch).

Belated July 4th

Happy Independence Day to all of you, 5 days after the fact.
We had a great 4th - went on a picnic at Lake of the Isles and went to our town's fireworks display, which lasted for 30 minutes.

Eric over at the Ethereal Garage has a good fourth of July post including a fireworks video in which you can clearly hear the devious laugh of his three year old. They start 'em young up there in northern MN!

Here is a sketch I did on July 04 of the Bryant building, while parked at 31st & Hennepin Avenue. The wife was inside a nearby Famous Dave's procuring our picnic feast. I was parked facing northbound, so this is the western side of Hennepin as seen from the driver's side window.

Simple Pleasure #1: Daybreak

Standing in my driveway, just before dawn.
Looking at the thin band of coral in the eastern sky.
The moon, still shining above.
The wet air, laden with the sweet aroma of my lawn.
The robins, singing while my neighbors sleep on.