Intelligence in Texas?

Yes, there is. No offense to Texans, of course; I have known many smart people from the Lone Star State. My best friend Constance is living in Texas (though she's not from there) and she's quite smart. On a recent layover through Dallas, though, I looked over to a familiar looking gentleman who was sitting alone, reading a copy of Atlantic Monthly. I didn't want to "out him" as being a celebrity-ish guy in a common area, so instead of loudly asking him if he was THE Ronald Reagan, Jr., I just asked quietly if he was "Ron." After comfirming that he indeed was, we went on to have a great conversation about Prop 8, gay rights and the supreme court before I had mercy on him and let him get back to his reading. An interesting, warm and friendly guy, not the least bit put off by my wanting to give thanks for being a sound, articulate person on the airwaves.

We had a great Thanksgiving, speaking of Thanks. Good food, family and, the next day, lots of holiday lights made their ways up onto the eaves of our house. We dug out all of our blue LED bulbs that we picked up for 1/2 price last year and, after picking up a 13 foot tree for our living room, decked the whole thing out in atomic glare bulbs. If you've never seen LED bulbs, gaze with caution, my friends. Our living room now looks like the inner core of a nuclear power plant and I imagine that the skylights our house can be seen from the space station. We were watching "The Amazing Race" (goodbye Toni and Dallas--I'm sad to see you go. Especially you, Dallas...) and by the end of the hour my eyes were burning. I couldn't tell if it was the long day, the stress of a high-octane tv show or the seared retinas I was suffering due to the lazer lights. Oh well. At least we're using 80% less electricity.

No Trouble Whatsoever

Last night, we coordinated a great babysitter for the boys and headed into the city to see Ray Lamontagne's final show of his tour, at McCaw Hall in Seattle. Simply put, it was an amazing show, and even though his set was shorter than I thought it would be, I have no complaints at all. The numbers were tight, not a lot of filler so even though he was only on stage for about an hour and 15, he probably hit about 20 songs in that time. No doubt about it, the guy's got amazing pipes. Interestingly, the stage set up was pretty non pretentious and simple. One can see that there's not a lot of ego happening with him, since he sets up the stage to put himself off to one side, showing himself as the lead singer of the band, rather than the front man. The sound in the hall was incredible and even the warm up singer, Leona Naess, was remarkable. A great night; I don't even care that I'm dead tired here at work this morning.

Novemeber 5, 2008: The Dawning of a New Era

I see trees of green, red roses too

I see them bloom for me and you

And I think to myself what a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue and clouds of white

The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night

And I think to myself what a wonderful world.

The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky

Are also on the faces of people going by

I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do

They're really saying I love you.

I hear babies crying, I watch them grow

They'll learn much more than I'll never know

And I think to myself what a wonderful world

Yes I think to myself what a wonderful world.

Goodbye, Yma

Last night, my partner got ahold of the newspaper before me and sadly announced that the Peruvian Songbird, Yma Sumac, had died. For anyone who has heard her sing, it's an unmistakably profound experience. Think Mariah Carey has pipes? Remember that screeching she did with that song "Emotion" way back when? Try listening to a woman whose multi-octave range makes the listener think he or she is listening to a piccolo playing. Incredible. I remember the first time I heard her, I was in a store in the Castro and I thought, "What the *#*& is this??" I was entranced and quickly went to the nearest music store and bought two CDs. Great fun.

Her website http://www.yma-sumac.com/ has a beautiful musical intro, with this announcement:

It is with deep sadness, that we report that Yma Sumac passed away at 11 am on Saturday Nov 1st. It was peaceful. Those closest to her were at her side.

A very, very private funeral will be held at an undisclosed location. Per her and her closest relative's instructions, she will be interred in Hollywood, where she spent 60 years of her life.

Her last year was spent surrounded by people who loved her and looked after her with the very best care possible. It should be a consolation that she was always surrounded by flowers, your beautiful cards, photos of her glory days, and an extraordinary view of Los Angeles' west side. Also, her personal assistant's two
little Chihuahua's, whom she loved dearly.

Although this news is written as "news" we are all devastated here. Indeed, there was plenty of time to prepare, but when that final moment comes, one finds they may not be at all prepared.

"That I made good music and made happy, their hearts" - Yma Sumac, when asked what she wanted to be remembered for.

Colin Powell: The Voice of Reason

I've always admired the man; even when he made the famous "yellow cake" speech of 2003 (not to be confused with Julia Childs' "yellow cake speech of 1969"), I couldn't help but feel as though he was a reluctant participant in something that was much bigger than he--and that he would be resigning soon after, which he did.

What came out in his endorsement of Barak Obama, though, solidified my belief that this is a man who personifies the very definition of integrity and honor. It wasn't his deep disgust over the reigning McCain tactics, nor the disillusionment he shows over the sharp right turn the current republican squall has made. What was it that he said that, to be honest, brought tears to my eyes? It was a statement that I've been trying to articulate for some time and hoped--REALLY hoped--that someone would have the balls to say:

"I'm also troubled by, not what Senator McCain says, but what members of the party say, and it is permitted to be said. Such things as 'Well you know that Mr. Obama is a Muslim.' Well the correct answer is 'He is not a Muslim, he's a Christian, he's always been a Christian.' But the really right answer is 'What if he is? Is there something wrong with being a Muslim in this country?' The answer is 'No. That's not America.' Is there something wrong with some 7-year old Muslim-American kid believing that he or she can be president?"

And then he went on to say:

"I feel strongly about this particular point because of a picture I saw in a magazine. It was a photo-essay about troops who were serving in Iraq and Afghanistan. And one picture at the tail end of this photo essay was of a mother in Arlington Cemetery and she had her head on the headstone of her son's grave. And as the picture focused in you can see the writing on the headstone. And it gave his awards, Purple Heart, Bronze Star, showed that he died in Iraq, gave his date of birth, date of death. He was 20 years old. And then at the very top of the headstone, it didn't have a Christian cross, it didn't have a Star of David. It had a crescent and a star of the Islamic faith. And his name was Karim Rashad Sultan Khan. And he was an American, he was born in New Jersey, he was 14 at the time of 9/11 and he waited until he can go serve his counrty and he gave his life."

Amen.

Now that's one spicy rodent!

Not long after a forest fire burns its way through acreage, the news media comes forth with a possible culprit. Sometimes its lightning (that would mean God did it? Or Electra Woman?), other times its bad cub scouts, or too often a deranged arsonist who likes the idea of a tsunami of flame working its way through the countryside. This time, though, the culprit is none other than a mischevous, kinda stupid and, currently, crisp squirrel. According to the AP, "Redding firefighters say the squirrel set off the blaze when it shorted out a power line, caught fire and dropped into dry vegetation." http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/n/a/2008/10/14/state/n100513D39.DTL

Typing "flaming squirrel" into Google gets me 3,190 hits (granted, most of these are repeat stories, but it's still pretty impressive), which means that apparently squirrels are quite flammable and likely wreak havoc when they are aflame--enough to get notice on the world wide web. Restaurant names and Celtic surf bands aside (http://flamingsquirrel.net/), Flaming Squirrels are quite a hot item. As opposed to, say, flaming rats (834 hits), flaming hamsters (1,290 hits) and flaming gerbils (512). Only flaming queens get more hits, but then we all know they get around so much more than the average queen (8370 hits).

A year ago, a flaming squirrel in Bayonne, NJ fell from the sky (another powerline chewer) and managed to find its way into the engine compartment of a Toyota Camry, leading to an explosive ending. http://www.nj.com/hudson/index.ssf/2007/10/flaming_squirrel_ignites_car_i.html

And in July of 2005, a flamer (yes, tightroping on a power line) managed to start a brush fire in Oroville, WA. http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2002390256_webpyrosquirrels19.html

My favorite was this news item about a candidate for student government at Princeton. One of the things he had to do (as part of the vetting process, I guess) was to fess up that he'd poured lighter fluid on, and subsequently lit, a dead squirrel in a wacky fraterity (and booze-fueled) prank. http://www.dailyprincetonian.com/archives/2006/12/01/news/16814.shtml Those crazy kids!

A New Blog!

Due to the raging success of my previous entry, "Dear Sarah Palin", I've decided to create a new one, dedicated solely to the column. You can find it at http://helpmesarah.blogspot.com/

Submitted dilemmas are welcome...

Today I did a lesson (non-indoctrination, of course) on the electoral system and I brought the website www.pollster.com up on the screen to show an example of polling, coupled with electoral counting. 24 4th graders broke into cheers when they saw 320 to 163. I played the middle, naturally, explaining how things can change on a dime and that no matter what, the results would be historical: The first African American president or the oldest. No comment on which is the more monumental or positive.