Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Parrot sighting
Waiting for the streetcar today, loud bird squawks trickled into my brain through my earphones. That, and the people gazing upward next to me, made me look up myself. And that's where I saw two wild parrots perched on top of a street light. San Francisco, semi-famously, has a flock of wild parrots. I knew of this, and yet still, it was strange to see such a sight.
I don't have much to write about today, but this lyric from Death Cab for Cutie's Marching Bands of Manhattan is ringing in my head (I can't find the lyrics exactly...apologies if I get it slightly wrong):
Sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole
Just like a faucet that leaks and there is comfort in the sound
And while you debate half empty and half full
It slowly rises...your love is going to drown
I think this happens in relationships...well, I think it's happened in mine. You don't pay attention to the slow leak...the little things...and next thing you know, your love drowns. Thank goodness I'm with someone now where we don't ignore the little things....
I don't have much to write about today, but this lyric from Death Cab for Cutie's Marching Bands of Manhattan is ringing in my head (I can't find the lyrics exactly...apologies if I get it slightly wrong):
Sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole
Just like a faucet that leaks and there is comfort in the sound
And while you debate half empty and half full
It slowly rises...your love is going to drown
I think this happens in relationships...well, I think it's happened in mine. You don't pay attention to the slow leak...the little things...and next thing you know, your love drowns. Thank goodness I'm with someone now where we don't ignore the little things....
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Happy anniversary
One year since I started writing in this blog. Time to reflect back...or not. We're heading off to Oregon this weekend for a memorial service, and our cab arrives at 6:15 a.m. tomorrow morning. So, off to bed we go. Early for us, kind of, but not as early as Lindsay has been going to bed this week -- 5 or 5:30 p.m.! No joke. We're trying to adjust to the daycare schedule and she's just wiped when she comes home.
Anyway, the only thing new to report is that I'm considering training for a marathon. Anyone who has done this care to weigh in?
Back Sunday...and let's all pull for the Tar Heels this weekend, who need a bit of help. And another thing...James Frey got his on Oprah today, or so I heard. I almost feel bad for the guy now. And another thing...I'm really digging the new show Love Monkey. Could be the man-crush I have on Tom Cavanaugh (spelling? I should know how to spell his name if I have a man crush on him, I suppose), but I also think it's funny, interesting, has good music, etc.
Anyway, the only thing new to report is that I'm considering training for a marathon. Anyone who has done this care to weigh in?
Back Sunday...and let's all pull for the Tar Heels this weekend, who need a bit of help. And another thing...James Frey got his on Oprah today, or so I heard. I almost feel bad for the guy now. And another thing...I'm really digging the new show Love Monkey. Could be the man-crush I have on Tom Cavanaugh (spelling? I should know how to spell his name if I have a man crush on him, I suppose), but I also think it's funny, interesting, has good music, etc.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Sisterhood
Big milestone last night for our Lindsay: she "said" her sister's name! OK, it didn't come out as Ella exactly -- more like "A-ya" or "ya-ya" but it was close enough. And she was clearly saying it in reference to Ella -- I would point at a picture of Ella and say "Who's this?" or "Ella" and Lindsay would say "A-ya".
If you don't have kids, you might not appreciate the significance of this event. But for us...well, it brought tears to our eyes. Our Little Bean is growing up! She's said "Da-da" and "uh-oh" and "ma-ma" (or "na-na"?)...maybe even a variation of doggie. But saying her sister's name, well, that was just pretty damn cool. And it gave me a bit of relief as well, I think. With Lindsay's hearing issues, I sometimes worry about how she's progressing with her verbal skills. Yes, 11 months old and I am already stressed about her achievement...but legitimately, no?
It was a nice thing to tell Ella too -- she struggles at times with the Big Sister role, made more complicated by the fact that she only spends a couple of weekends a month with us. She loves Lindsay -- I know this. But Ella is used to being the only kid, and the normal adjustment issues apply.
Well, milestone noted. Obligatory cute photo provided (thanks Mom for the hand-knit sweater!).
If you don't have kids, you might not appreciate the significance of this event. But for us...well, it brought tears to our eyes. Our Little Bean is growing up! She's said "Da-da" and "uh-oh" and "ma-ma" (or "na-na"?)...maybe even a variation of doggie. But saying her sister's name, well, that was just pretty damn cool. And it gave me a bit of relief as well, I think. With Lindsay's hearing issues, I sometimes worry about how she's progressing with her verbal skills. Yes, 11 months old and I am already stressed about her achievement...but legitimately, no?
It was a nice thing to tell Ella too -- she struggles at times with the Big Sister role, made more complicated by the fact that she only spends a couple of weekends a month with us. She loves Lindsay -- I know this. But Ella is used to being the only kid, and the normal adjustment issues apply.
Well, milestone noted. Obligatory cute photo provided (thanks Mom for the hand-knit sweater!).
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Woody Allen's not that far off
My friend Eric posted a review recently of Woody Allen's Match Point, and in it he scolded the filmmaker for relying on the plot convention of people running into each other randomly in the Big City.
Well, it does happen, I think. At least to me, but in strange ways. For example: last week I noticed this guy on the streetcar -- very distinct facial features, is all I'll say in a kind way. I just took note of him, OK? Anyway...over the weekend we were at a local Ikea along with a jillion other people seeking furniture with unpronounceable names they could assemble themselves. And in this huge S.F. metropolis, in a giant warehouse of a store, with 25 checkout lines to choose from...we end up right behind this very same guy. I know it was him. And I saw him on the streetcar again this morning.
What are the odds? Must be long...but Woody Allen isn't completely off base, perhaps. Although I never seem to randomly bump into acquaintances, just strangers I recognize. Does that make sense?
Well, it does happen, I think. At least to me, but in strange ways. For example: last week I noticed this guy on the streetcar -- very distinct facial features, is all I'll say in a kind way. I just took note of him, OK? Anyway...over the weekend we were at a local Ikea along with a jillion other people seeking furniture with unpronounceable names they could assemble themselves. And in this huge S.F. metropolis, in a giant warehouse of a store, with 25 checkout lines to choose from...we end up right behind this very same guy. I know it was him. And I saw him on the streetcar again this morning.
What are the odds? Must be long...but Woody Allen isn't completely off base, perhaps. Although I never seem to randomly bump into acquaintances, just strangers I recognize. Does that make sense?
Monday, January 16, 2006
What in the world?
Two possible signs of the apocalypse: my father, within 6 weeks, got an iPod and went to see the Rolling Stones. This is a man who I associate, musically, with Neil Diamond, Barry Manilow, Frankie Vallie and the Four Seasons and Mama Cass (don't ask). Weird. Could it be a belated midlife crisis...63 years old with a 5 year old and a 2 year old? Nah....
Never did like award shows, never will. Too much of the cringe factor: what horrible forced jokey dialogue will they read off cue cards? how painful will the faux spontaneous acceptance speech be? And now to add to the pain, they feature like eight hours of red carpet coverage: who made your dress? are you excited/nervous/anxious? is that all your own hair? how did you get your cleavage to stay like that? when's the last time you ate an actual meal, miss skin and bones? Ugh. My need to avoid confrontation extends to potentially painful situations where someone might embarrass themselves (in my mind): comedy clubs, award shows, figure skating, local newscasts. I just can't take it.
Enjoyed my day off today. Back to work tomorrow...but tomorrow is more significant because it is the first day Lindsay is going to daycare! Big step for us all -- Lindsay heading out three days a week to daycare, providing Nicola with time for herself and her business pursuits. A much-needed change, I think; one I maybe can't fully appreciate, since I'm The Man and I went back to work two weeks after Lindsay arrived. It's just different for moms...not all that profound a statement, but certainly one that I've grown to appreciate more.
Final note: speedy recovery to my uncle Tom Taggart, who recently suffered a minor stroke at age 55. Sounds like he's doing ok, but still...scary.
Never did like award shows, never will. Too much of the cringe factor: what horrible forced jokey dialogue will they read off cue cards? how painful will the faux spontaneous acceptance speech be? And now to add to the pain, they feature like eight hours of red carpet coverage: who made your dress? are you excited/nervous/anxious? is that all your own hair? how did you get your cleavage to stay like that? when's the last time you ate an actual meal, miss skin and bones? Ugh. My need to avoid confrontation extends to potentially painful situations where someone might embarrass themselves (in my mind): comedy clubs, award shows, figure skating, local newscasts. I just can't take it.
Enjoyed my day off today. Back to work tomorrow...but tomorrow is more significant because it is the first day Lindsay is going to daycare! Big step for us all -- Lindsay heading out three days a week to daycare, providing Nicola with time for herself and her business pursuits. A much-needed change, I think; one I maybe can't fully appreciate, since I'm The Man and I went back to work two weeks after Lindsay arrived. It's just different for moms...not all that profound a statement, but certainly one that I've grown to appreciate more.
Final note: speedy recovery to my uncle Tom Taggart, who recently suffered a minor stroke at age 55. Sounds like he's doing ok, but still...scary.
Friday, January 13, 2006
Vicariousness
(offline for a few days as our laptop was nursed back to semihealth)
The James Frey affair continues to play out in the news media and online. I don't have much more to say about his "memoir" and his need to exaggerate his misdeeds, but all this speculation and investigation has made me think about why I liked his book in the first place.
I'm an onlooker, a literary rubbernecker. I have long enjoyed the memoir genre that features seedy people doing reckless and seedy things -- narcotic-fueled "nonfiction" if you will. Jim Carroll, Bukowski, William S. Burroughs, Augusten Burroughs, Jerry Stahl (Permanent Midnight). I'm sure there's others I've read, but they escape me. Eddie Little's Another Day in Paradise -- fiction, but some prurient interest drew me to that too.
Is it vicarious thrills I'm seeking? Is it a curiousity about how low humans can go? A reaction to my own relatively tame existence? I mean, I've had some experiences, and I've dabbled, and I may even have been excessive in my consumption for a period of time (say, 1992 to 1995). But I never went hardcore -- like losing a job, or getting arrested, or heck, even tried any hardcore narcotics.
James Frey, you poseur. How can I count on getting goosed by the thrill of dangerous living by others, when so much of it is bullshit! I feel robbed! Not really...this guy and many others should feel wronged and pissed off. They did the real down and dirty work of getting through the harrowing ride of addiction, while how can we even know if Frey's victory is real, if the stuff that led him there is a house of cards?
Even energy on this dude, right? But isn't it interesting, the times we live in? Who knows what embellishments Jim Carroll or William Burroughs got away with -- there was no Smoking Gun around to pursue the "truth" through open records and investigative reporting. Did they get away with anything? I don't know -- I suppose memoirists are entitled to some literary license...as long as they cop to it upfront.
Have a good weekend all.
The James Frey affair continues to play out in the news media and online. I don't have much more to say about his "memoir" and his need to exaggerate his misdeeds, but all this speculation and investigation has made me think about why I liked his book in the first place.
I'm an onlooker, a literary rubbernecker. I have long enjoyed the memoir genre that features seedy people doing reckless and seedy things -- narcotic-fueled "nonfiction" if you will. Jim Carroll, Bukowski, William S. Burroughs, Augusten Burroughs, Jerry Stahl (Permanent Midnight). I'm sure there's others I've read, but they escape me. Eddie Little's Another Day in Paradise -- fiction, but some prurient interest drew me to that too.
Is it vicarious thrills I'm seeking? Is it a curiousity about how low humans can go? A reaction to my own relatively tame existence? I mean, I've had some experiences, and I've dabbled, and I may even have been excessive in my consumption for a period of time (say, 1992 to 1995). But I never went hardcore -- like losing a job, or getting arrested, or heck, even tried any hardcore narcotics.
James Frey, you poseur. How can I count on getting goosed by the thrill of dangerous living by others, when so much of it is bullshit! I feel robbed! Not really...this guy and many others should feel wronged and pissed off. They did the real down and dirty work of getting through the harrowing ride of addiction, while how can we even know if Frey's victory is real, if the stuff that led him there is a house of cards?
Even energy on this dude, right? But isn't it interesting, the times we live in? Who knows what embellishments Jim Carroll or William Burroughs got away with -- there was no Smoking Gun around to pursue the "truth" through open records and investigative reporting. Did they get away with anything? I don't know -- I suppose memoirists are entitled to some literary license...as long as they cop to it upfront.
Have a good weekend all.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Life 1, me 0
Lindsay's cold/teething is more -- it's an ear infection. Which is a concern, given her microtia. I stayed home yesterday to help out, and her febrile wailings did much to disrupt our day. Which led to a funky, almost relaxed evening that should have been perfect for blogging...except our laptop slowed to an ooze after we installed some new stuff. Result: no post!
I've got a mountain of work ahead today, so I'll keep this brief and simply note what's happening in my media life these days:
Reading: Rats, by Robert Sullivan. It caught my eye at a bookstore in Berkeley. So far, pretty interesting. I just finished A Million Little Pieces...like millions of others, apparently, and no, I'm not surprised that James Frey might be a grade A bullshitter. Still a good read, but the intertwining of fact and fiction is not all that relevatory...I guess unless you've sworn up and down it's all true, as he as. His books, those of Augusten Burroughs, even David Sedaris -- don't we all tacitly acknowledge there must be some embellishment in order to make these work as narrative or humor or allegory? Doesn't mean I don't enjoy them, but I don't consider them gospel.
Listening: nano with various, but latest is Bloc Party, "Silent Alarm". I'm a musical tweener -- trying to keep up with new bands, but finding it hard to stay interested. U2, Beastie Boys, Barenaked Ladies, Green Day, Dillon Fence (shout out to Chapel Hill!)...all mixed up with Bloc Party, Franz Ferdinand and Death Cab for Cutie. Similar to me and lots of other 30-somethings?
Magazines: we had Newsweek, Business 2.0 and Money coming in free for a while...now the subscription notices (nee pleadings) are flooding the mailbox. Which to renew? I hardly have time to read my Sports Illustrated each week (won't give that up).
Watching: Scrubs is back on -- sweet. Missed it last week due to our prolonged drive back from Oregon, but I'll be there tonight.
I've got a mountain of work ahead today, so I'll keep this brief and simply note what's happening in my media life these days:
Reading: Rats, by Robert Sullivan. It caught my eye at a bookstore in Berkeley. So far, pretty interesting. I just finished A Million Little Pieces...like millions of others, apparently, and no, I'm not surprised that James Frey might be a grade A bullshitter. Still a good read, but the intertwining of fact and fiction is not all that relevatory...I guess unless you've sworn up and down it's all true, as he as. His books, those of Augusten Burroughs, even David Sedaris -- don't we all tacitly acknowledge there must be some embellishment in order to make these work as narrative or humor or allegory? Doesn't mean I don't enjoy them, but I don't consider them gospel.
Listening: nano with various, but latest is Bloc Party, "Silent Alarm". I'm a musical tweener -- trying to keep up with new bands, but finding it hard to stay interested. U2, Beastie Boys, Barenaked Ladies, Green Day, Dillon Fence (shout out to Chapel Hill!)...all mixed up with Bloc Party, Franz Ferdinand and Death Cab for Cutie. Similar to me and lots of other 30-somethings?
Magazines: we had Newsweek, Business 2.0 and Money coming in free for a while...now the subscription notices (nee pleadings) are flooding the mailbox. Which to renew? I hardly have time to read my Sports Illustrated each week (won't give that up).
Watching: Scrubs is back on -- sweet. Missed it last week due to our prolonged drive back from Oregon, but I'll be there tonight.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Off we go
I'm sitting here loading music on my new nano -- a surprise Xmas gift from Nicola. Oh joy of joys! I was hoping for an iPod, but I was sure it wouldn't come. But it did it did! Even better, the PC slot card that upgrades our laptop to USB 2.0 worked -- this option failed for me before -- so I've been enjoying nano-hood for the past couple of weeks. Through the sleepless nights in Oregon when my cold/cough kicked in...and now on my commute. I'm one of the white-headphone-cord mob now -- linked with every third or fourth person you see on the streets of San Francisco. They are nearly ubiquitous here...and I'm ok with that. I'm also over my bitterness: I was swearing that iPods had jumped the shark when my 63-year-old father got one for his birthday last month. This a guy who can barely use e-mail. But it was just jealousy. I'm all better now.
So, here begins my sincere effort to devote regular attention to my writing/expressing via this blog. There will be some nights that are tough and some that are easy -- like tonight, when Lindsay's early bedtime (she's either sick and/or dealing with the pain/phlegm/issues related to her two top front teeth coming in) and an early dinner (6:30) led to an abundance of free time, or so it seems. I'm sure there are a million things to do around the house as we still dig out from our long roadtrip.
It was a good weekend, although Ella has been more of a challenge lately. Is it just a stage, something normal for a nearly 6-year-old? Is it older sibling stuff? Is it divorced kid stuff? A fun melange of all three and more? Whatever it is, she's pushing the boundaries more and more, and we have struggled a bit to deal with the subtle shifts in our sweet kid. Ella remains, by and large, a sweet, well-behaved, bright, delightful little girl...I think it's her near perfect (? -- Daddy's subjective memory) track record that now has us flummoxed by the changes. Her on-a-dime shifts into pouty mode grow tiresome, as does her apparent need to get her way. Gee, Bill, that's not like normal or anything for young kids, is it? I suppose I shouldn't be too concerned...just another stage, right? Life is about change and transition.
A few photo highlights of our trip to Oregon, below. Rainy weather up -- downpours all the way. Nice visits with family and friends. And then snow and rain on the way down. Highlight: spending the day with my close pal Thad on his 40th birthday, and getting our first solo when the grandparents babysat Lindsay (too bad both Nicola and I were both sick!).
So, here begins my sincere effort to devote regular attention to my writing/expressing via this blog. There will be some nights that are tough and some that are easy -- like tonight, when Lindsay's early bedtime (she's either sick and/or dealing with the pain/phlegm/issues related to her two top front teeth coming in) and an early dinner (6:30) led to an abundance of free time, or so it seems. I'm sure there are a million things to do around the house as we still dig out from our long roadtrip.
It was a good weekend, although Ella has been more of a challenge lately. Is it just a stage, something normal for a nearly 6-year-old? Is it older sibling stuff? Is it divorced kid stuff? A fun melange of all three and more? Whatever it is, she's pushing the boundaries more and more, and we have struggled a bit to deal with the subtle shifts in our sweet kid. Ella remains, by and large, a sweet, well-behaved, bright, delightful little girl...I think it's her near perfect (? -- Daddy's subjective memory) track record that now has us flummoxed by the changes. Her on-a-dime shifts into pouty mode grow tiresome, as does her apparent need to get her way. Gee, Bill, that's not like normal or anything for young kids, is it? I suppose I shouldn't be too concerned...just another stage, right? Life is about change and transition.
A few photo highlights of our trip to Oregon, below. Rainy weather up -- downpours all the way. Nice visits with family and friends. And then snow and rain on the way down. Highlight: spending the day with my close pal Thad on his 40th birthday, and getting our first solo when the grandparents babysat Lindsay (too bad both Nicola and I were both sick!).
Friday, January 06, 2006
Timber
This morning I saw the Pier 39 Christmas tree getting stripped of its branches as the workers prepared to take it down. I swear I made note of this tree going up back around Thanksgiving, but I can't find the post anywhere. Hmm. Oh well. The long holiday season is now officially over I guess...or was it over for me when I saw candy Valentine's hearts on sale in a Portland grocery store on New Year's Eve?
I'm not sure how to approach this other notable thing that happened during my commute yesterday, so I'll just say it. I saw a man die. Right there, inside the BART car I was waiting to board, was a man lying on the floor with first regular people and then paramedics doing CPR. People were milling around and kind of watching and not watching at the same time. I hopped the first train out of the city I could (on the opposite track) and later heard from a BART station agent that the man died. There was no mention of the situation in today's Chronicle...I guess it's not noteworthy if the train delays were only 30 minutes or so.
One woman was heroically going at the CPR for several minutes, and when the paramedics arrived, she just kind of wandered off. She got on the same BART car I did leaving San Francisco, and I really wanted to offer her some validation -- like, "Hey, I saw what you did. Are you OK?" But she was 10 feet away from me in a car packed with people, and I couldn't make it happen. Good for her, though, and for the other good samaritans who tried to help.
A very surreal situation.
I'm not sure how to approach this other notable thing that happened during my commute yesterday, so I'll just say it. I saw a man die. Right there, inside the BART car I was waiting to board, was a man lying on the floor with first regular people and then paramedics doing CPR. People were milling around and kind of watching and not watching at the same time. I hopped the first train out of the city I could (on the opposite track) and later heard from a BART station agent that the man died. There was no mention of the situation in today's Chronicle...I guess it's not noteworthy if the train delays were only 30 minutes or so.
One woman was heroically going at the CPR for several minutes, and when the paramedics arrived, she just kind of wandered off. She got on the same BART car I did leaving San Francisco, and I really wanted to offer her some validation -- like, "Hey, I saw what you did. Are you OK?" But she was 10 feet away from me in a car packed with people, and I couldn't make it happen. Good for her, though, and for the other good samaritans who tried to help.
A very surreal situation.
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Not so fresh
I intended to start a new blogging effort in 2006: post 5 nights a week, be regular about it, etc. and so forth and so on. Well, 13 hours on the road back from Oregon on Tuesday -- in the wettest, most disgusting weather, even snow...including putting chains on the tires not once but twice -- has me just too pooped to pontificate. So the fresh start starts when it starts.
Happy new year to all. Hope the holidays were enjoyable, fun filled and interesting.
Happy new year to all. Hope the holidays were enjoyable, fun filled and interesting.
