Christmas Snapshots

		ABOVE: My brother. Or maybe a character from Chicken Run. We're not sure. LEFT:Mom hard at work...
More pics...

Another year, another catchup post

Once again I find myself having skipped weeks at a time in this blog. So I will once again follow my time honored tradition of using a bulleted list rather than actual descriptive writing. (Thank God for <ul>!)

• Drove 12 hours home for Christmas, barely making it in time for my Mom's Christmas Eve service. (Wouldn't want to know the consequences of missing that one.)

• Hung out with family.

• Spent a full two days working on the office computer network at the church. Got the new front office machine and the fax/printer working. But my Mom's laptop crashed 6 times in the first two hours, including one crash requiring a fresh ghosting from the recovery CD. Sent that sucker back to Toshiba, which means that I'm probably going to have to fly up again to finish this project. Someone from work mentioned that a friend's daughter works as a techie in DC but has to fix her Mom's computer whenvever she comes home to Tennessee for the holidays. Meanwhile I live in Nashville and have to fix my Mom's computer whenever I'm home in DC. Maybe what we need is a nationwide cooperative of techies who agree to work on other people's parents' machines in return for "credits" that could be used to buy tech support for their own parents. Hmm....

• After valiant attempts to lure various northern friends to Nashville, I again copped out and went to Boston for New Years. Actually, I convinced my brother to go with me, which was fun. Except for the fact that, due to his non-existent finances, we drove, and it took 12 hours in each direction. On the way there, we ate at a nifty little diner north of Baltimore. On the way back, we met up with my friend Brian in New Jersey. Yes, that Brian.

• In Boston, I visited a bunch of friends, helped unload a u-haul (after we spent over an hour trying to dislodge the stuck door), watched a New Years Parade and some fireworks, ate Indian food, and watched football.

• Drove back to DC. Arrived much later than expected, so scrapped plans to continue to Nashville. Instead met up with other brother, made grocery run, and made fajitas. (Parents had just hosted a lobster dinner for a friend, but us kids weren't invited. Oh, well.)

• Finally got out of the house around 11 AM the next day. Drove all day and arrived back in Nashville around 11 PM. The total for the trip was around 2,500 miles, which I believe is more than I drove in the first 11.5 months of 2004.

• Went to work on Tuesday. As day wore on, my disturbing cough became worse, and tiredness and disorientation set in. Despite this, stayed until late at night trying to get caught up.

• Woke up Wednesday and could barely move. Called in sick and spent day sleeping and/or wishing for death. The worst was the high fever stage around 8 P.M., when I called my Dad from under a pile of blankets and pillows, figuring that I should relate the contents of my last will and testament.

• Thursday was a lot better, although I stayed home from work again to be safe. I actually felt up to some simple cooking, so made some of my new favorite oatmeal that my Hibernophile parents hooked me on over the holidays.

• Back to work on Friday. Ugh.

• Saturday slept in, then did some things around the house. Filled a few photo orders from the reunion I shot back in October. Went to see A Series of Unfortunate Events, which was visually stunning but didn't really grab me. Went grocery shopping for a few things. Read Fist Stick Knife Gun, a fascinating book about urban violence given to me by my brother.

• Sunday, the cable guy came and fixed my fuzzy reception. Pondered the looming pile of grad school applications, but didn't really do nearly enough work on them.

• This week has been work punctuated with various other things. More on the other things in the next post.

Christmas, as hurriedly dashed off in an e-mail to a coworker

Made it to DC ok -- although I didn't actually get out of Nashville until 10:00 on Thurs, so was worried about making it in time for my mom's Xmas eve services. Drove until about 3AM (4AM eastern), and then slept at Motel 6 for about 5 hours. Then drove another 6-7 hours and got in with an hour or so to spare. Then to the church, where I took photos for their website effort. Then to a party hosted by one of my mom's widower parishoners, at which he proposed marriage to his girlfriend! Then home, to bed. Today was a bit more laid back -- xmas presents and stuff in the AM and family dinner in the evening.

No snow here -- in fact, once I got a few hours away from Nashville everything was totally clear. It is cold, though -- I still have the remains of the Nashville ice storm on my truck.

Anyway, was checking in because I got a voicemail about a server problem. Need to sleep now!

It's time of shutdown!!

One of the software packages we use at work was programmed by a ragtag band of Russian programmers hired at sweatshop wages following the collapse of the Soviet Union. They may have been C++ gurus, but their linguistic prowess didn't always extend to English. I'm always amused by the odd turns of phrase I find buried throughout the system. Like this one, from a log file generated by one of the servers:

My own little paint factory?

I've been thinking a lot lately about the trajectory of my life. (Yup. It's going to be one of those "deep thoughts" posts. If you're looking for more laundry disasters and other typical NK pap, try back tomorrow.)

In some ways, I feel like I've always followed the path of least resistance when making major life-decisions. This seems like an odd statement, given how hard I work at the things I take on. But I feel like I've sometimes made decisions by default, basing them on the collective "common sense" of society and not on what I really want to do. My technology career is a perfect example: it's based more on a knack for the work than a deep passion. And lately I've been wondering if I really want to spend another 30 years doing more of the same.

I was struck by this tribute to a man I knew only as a wizened old movie reviewer with a cluttered office.

During his travels, Mr. Wyatt visited more than 100 countries. Over the years, he rode a camel by the pyramids in Egypt, lectured at a college in Kyoto, met with dissidents in pre-Velvet Revolution Prague and strolled among ancient Incan ruins in Peru. [...] Mr. Wyatt graduated from North (Nashville) High and David Lipscomb College and held a law degree from Vanderbilt University. He also studied Russian history and language for two years and took an Arabic language course at the University of Baghdad from 1945 to 1946. Mr. Wyatt served for 2½ years as a crypto analyst in the Military Intelligence Service, mostly in the USSR and the Middle East. [...]The longtime reporter, editor and lawyer merged his journalistic and legal interests in reporting on legal aspects of race relations in the 1950s.

Will my obituary be that interesting? Not at the rate I'm going. Here lies D-, struck down in his prime. He, umm, did something with computers.

As this was marinating somewhere in the back of my brain, I saw this story in the paper:

A mower, some cans and a dream of the Gulf

In mid-October, Bainbridge got bored with Indiana, his home for most of his adult life. Unable because of an injury from a severe auto accident to hold a job and unwilling to be trapped in "factory work" even if his back were stronger, the Hoosier said he "just felt like he had to get out while he could."

So Bainbridge, 44, cranked up his 34-year-old Massey Ferguson lawn mower — bought for a song for $35 — hitched on a small trailer that serves as his home on wheels and headed for the Gulf of Mexico … picking up a small mountain of discarded beer and soda pop aluminum cans to finance his trip along the way.

Last weekend, Bainbridge slowly rolled through Lebanon and into Murfreesboro on U.S. 231, attracting stares and a few waves.

[...]

If all goes as planned, he'll ride his lawn mower to the Gulf, dip his toe in the surf and "turn left."

"I'll go through Georgia and turn north. I've always wanted to go to Maine," he said.

Here's another guy whose obituary will not lack for interesting material. I was captivated by his ability to simply shake off "common sense" in pursuit of happiness. Then today I read Quitting the Paint Factory: On the virtues of idleness , an essay by Michael Slouka that finally brought this all together for me:

Increasingly, it seems to me, our world is dividing into two kinds of things: those that aid work, or at least represent a path to it, and those that don't Things in the first category are good and noble; things in the second aren't. Thus, for example, education is good (as long as we don't have to listen to any of that "end in itself" nonsense) because it will pre­sumably lead to work. Thus playing the piano or swimming the 100-yard backstroke are good things for a fifteen-year-old to do not because they might give her some pleasure but because rumor has it that Princeton is interested in students who can play Chopin or swim quickly on their backs (and a degree from Princeton, as any fool knows, can be readily converted to work).

Point the beam anywhere, and there's the God of Work, busily trampling out the vintage. Blizzards are bemoaned because they keep us from getting to work. Hobbies are seen as either ridiculous or self-indulgent because they interfere with work. Longer school days are all the rage (even as our children grow demonstrably stupider), not because they make educational or psychological or any other kind of sense but because keeping kids in school longer makes it easier for us to work. Meanwhile, the time grows short, the margin narrows; the white spaces on our calendars have been inked in for months. We're angry about this, upset about that, but who has the time to do anything anymore? There are those reports to re­port on, memos to remember, emails to deflect or delete. They bury us like snow.

The alarm rings and we're off, running so hard that by the time we stop we're too tired to do much of anything except nod in front of the TV, which, like virtually all the other voices in our culture, endorses our exhaustion, fetishizes and romanticizes it and, by daily adding its little trowelful of lies and omissions, helps cement the conviction that not only is this how our three score and ten must be spent but that the transaction is both noble and necessary.

[...] All of which leaves only the task of explaining away those few miscreants who out of some inner weakness or perversity either refuse to convert or who go along and then, in their thirty-sixth year in the choir, say, abruptly abandon the faith. Those in the first category are relatively easy to contend with; they are simply losers. Those in the second are a bit more difficult; their apostasy requires something more ….. dramatic. They are considered mad.

In the final analysis, Slouka relates the obsession with work and the antipathy toward idleness to proto-fascist ideals of the early 20th century -- and lays out his belief that America's obsession with "success" (as achieved through work) is destroying our democratic society. Idleness, as distinct from the commercialized idea of "Leisure", is necessary because it allows time for reason and informed decision-making:

Idleness is not just a psychological necessity, req­uisite to the construction of a complete human being; it constitutes as well a kind of political space, a space as necessary to the workings of an actual democracy as, say, a free press. How does it do this? By allowing us time to figure out who we are, and what we believe; by allowing us time to consider what is unjust, and what we might do about it. By giving the inner life (in whose precincts we are most ourselves) its due.

[...]

Could the Church of Work – which today has Americans aspir­ing to sleep deprivation the way they once aspired to a personal knowledge of God – be, at base, an anti-democratic force? Well, yes. James Russell Lowell, that nineteenth-century workhorse, summed it all up quite neatly: "There is no better ballast for keeping the mind steady on its keel, and sav­ing it from all risk of crankiness, than business.

Quite so. The mind, however, particularly the mind of a citizen in a de­mocratic society, is not a boat. Ballast is not what it needs, and steadiness, alas, can be a synonym for stupidity, as our current administration has so am­ply demonstrated. No, what the democratic mind requires, above all, is time; time to consider its options. Time to develop the democratic virtues of independence, orneriness, objectivity, and fairness. Time, perhaps (to sail along with Lowell's leaky metaphor for a moment), to ponder the course our unelected captains have so generously set for us, and to consider mutiny when the iceberg looms.

So what does all this mean for me? I don't know quite yet. But I've been thinking about it a lot lately.

There are some things I'd like to do that have always seemed somewhat incompatible with my day-to-day Office Space existence. For example, I'm attracted to the idea of iving in a foreign country long enough to become comfortable speaking the language. (The top candidates for this would be Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Spain, or somewhere in Central or South America, since I already have a slight linguistic headstart in German and Spanish. But I'm not all that picky.)

I've also been thinking about my longterm professional plans. Right now my job is split between a traditional techie job and managing an internal research library and archive. The techie stuff is lucrative, but there are big parts of it that I just don't enjoy that much, at least the way my job is currently structured.

On the other hand, I really enjoy a lot of the work I do in the library and archives. The problem is that my company really doesn't place that much value on this. Officially it's 15% of my job description. And in the constant battles over time and resources, things like organizing 70 years of photographic prints take a backseat to fixing laptops.

Furthermore, while I've had some training in archival management and now have several years of on-the-job experience, I'm smart enough to know how much I don't know. Most organizations that take this sort of thing seriously look for degrees in history, preservation, and library science. My liberal arts, journalism, and technology management background is a good start, but it's probably not enough to open some of the most interesting doors in the field. So I've been pondering what sort of course correction it would take to steer my career toward greener pastures. Perhaps the most likely scenario involves quitting my job and going back to school full time for a few years. (Maybe pursuing program like this.)

Of course, all these major life-changes would represent a huge financial hit -- something I'm still working through. But they might also be an opportunity to escape the corporate quicksand into which I fear I'm sinking. Maybe it's time for me to escape.

Dissonance

The Nashville Symphony's performance of Handel's Messiah (at the Ryman) ended at precisely the same time as the WWE Smackdown at the Gaylord Entertainment Center. Walking down lower Broadway, it was pretty easy to tell who had been to which event.

fade to orange

I was pouring bleach into the washing machine, and leaned the bottle against my dark gray t-shirt. Apparently there was a bit of bleach on the bottom. Now my shirt has an orange parabola emblazoned across the front. Drat.

On the other hand, since the shirt's ruined anyway, this may be a perfect opportunity to play with my new Clorox Bleach Pen (TM). Maybe if I further disfigure the shirt people will think I meant to do it in the first place.

the hiatus

Obviously I've been pretty bad about blogging lately. There are a lot of reasons for that. For one thing, I used to use blogging to procrastinate on schoolwork. Unlike other procrastination techniques, I could actually tell myself that I was working. After all, I was in front of the computer, right?

Now that I've graduated, I am no longer spending as much non-work time in front of the computer. And my goofing off is taking other forms -- for example, I actually get to read books that don't appear on a syllabus.

Plus, I've been a bit down in the dumps for the last few weeks, and haven't felt like sharing my blues with the world.

But not blogging is cumulative -- the longer you don't do it, the harder it is to get back in the swing of things, because the more you've missed. So this post marks my effort to catch up and get back on track.

We'll begin with a list of things I've done in the last month, in occasionally almost chronological order:

• Visited DC for a quick weekend with college buddies Aaron and Jay who were in town for a wedding.
• Took cab from Union station to their hotel. Went out in the rain. Found trendy asian fusion restaurant. Ate. Went back to hotel bar. Hung out with wedding party. Drank. Returned to room. Slept.
• Woke up. Walked around DC a lot. (8 miles or so, based on my quick calculations with a tourist map.) Met up with various other folks who happened to be in town.
• Went to the World War II memorial, the Spy Museum (but didn't get in -- you need reservations! Who knew?), the Natural History museum, the new Museum of the American Indian, and various other places. Tried once again to go up the Washington Monument, but apparently after years of renovations on the inside, they have now closed it so that they can landscape the grounds.
• Met with committees at Mom's church about technology and websites.
• Back to Nashville.
• Work and stuff.
• Saw movies: I (Heart) Huckabees, Donnie Darko Director's Cut, and Primer. Is it just me, or have there been a lot of metaphysics flicks lately?
• Went home for Thanksgiving.
• Enjoyed life sans electricity for most of Thanksgiving day.
• Learned that even gas ovens are now dependent on electric power. Yearned for a simpler time.
• Explored alternatives: hooking the oven up to a car battery and cooking turkey in a trashcan were among the best options.
• Started cooking Thanksgiving dinner around 4:00 when the power came back on.
• Ate dinner at midnight.
• Played family at Monopoly. Or actually an unauthorized "Urban Remix" edition created with contact paper and a color printer by one of my brother's Urban Promise pals.
• Spent much time ordering and installing $5000 of computer equipment for my mom's office at the church. Get to do more of this at Christmas. Whee.
• Went to Washington City Museum with my dad. Unfortunately, it's closing because they ran out of money. It's in the old main Carnegie library at Mt. Vernon Square, and has cool things like a giant illuminated aerial photo of the city that you can walk around on. Hopefully they'll figure out a way to get more money.
• Went to community Christmas Tree lighting at my Mom's church. Took some photos. Would have been even better if I'd brought a tripod -- had to make do with balancing the camera on fenceposts.
• Back to Nashville. Work. The usual.
• As Tracy noticed, I went to the (night) Christmas Parade on my way home from work last week. It was pretty cool. really. Next time I'll bring gloves.
• Got a new boss. Too early to tell how that's going to turn out.
• Applied my pitiful sewing skills in an attempt to save various items of clothing. It amazes me that people actually wore clothes before the sewing maching was invented. No wonder the Roman Empire came up with the toga concept!
• Made stew, but burned it a bit because a friend called. Chicken/vegetable/matzoh ball soup. That one turned out better.
• Got new down pillows as a belated birthday present from my parents. Last night was the first time I used them, but I didn't get to savor them in the morning due to a work emergency. Gak.
• Finally got paid for the freelance photo/web design job I did in October. And got a dividend check from my insurance company for $46. Yay!

Ok, now I'm all caught up and stuff. So I should be able to blog about my normal silliness without feeling like I'm leaving things out.

Bridal Veil Falls

Another test -- this time I'm trying Flickr's ability to blog photos via e-mail. And yet another image from out west this summer, this time of Bridal Veil Falls in Oregon.

Crater Lake

Crater Lake
Originally uploaded by D-.

I just set up an account with flickr, which I'm hoping will make it a lot easier to quickly post photos to this blog. As a test, you should be seeing a photo I took at Crater Lake over the summer.

Back from a tiring yet awesome weekend trip to DC. Will try to post more later, but now must sleep.

24 hours I would rather forget

It started yesterday morning. I got up late and had a slightly lazy morning at home owing to the fact that I knew I'd be stuck at work dealing with elections until early the next morning.

One of my shamefully-bourgeous habits hiring a cleaning service to come in and remove the top layer of crud once every two weeks. (I started this last year, and it has definitely improved my bachelor pad standard of living.) The normal arrangement is that they are supposed to come Tuesday afternoons. Only their definition of afternoon keeps creeping earlier and earlier. Yesterday it creeped to 11:30 AM, a time when I was happily ensconced in the shower with the bathroom door wide open. I knew they had arrived because I heard people walking around the house. When they realized I was in the shower, they were apparently too flustered to turn off the burglar alarm. So the atmosphere of confusion was enhanced by a loud siren started emanating from the roof of my house.

I staggered out of the shower in a towel, shut off the alarm, and made peace with the assembled masses.

Believe it or not, the day got worse after that.

I finished dressing and cleared out of the house, only to discover (of course) that my truck wouldn't even begin to turn over. It just made a sickly clicking sound when I turned the key. So I bugged one of the cleaning folks to give me a jump start, and things were looking up until I got about a block away and the car died again. Admitting defeat, I called Triple-A, who said they would send someone within an hour to tow it.

They told me that they could call me when the driver was 25 minutes out, so I decided to take a chance. The most important thing I had to do yesterday was vote. So I abandoned my car and hoofed it from my house to the polling place. (I know, I should have voted early. I've already heard that one.)

After waiting in a short line, I was signing my name on the voter roll when my phone rang. The AAA dude said that the tow truck was on its way. So I boogied into the booth, pressed the button for Kerry, and skeedaddled. But as I was walking out the door, AAA dude called back to say that he had screwed up, and that the tow truck was actually already waiting at my car. Ack! So I double-timed it back down to my house, luckily making it before the tow truck driver got fed up and left.

Next was the ride over to CarMax, all the way listening to the tow truck driver tell me how much better his personal truck was than the borrowed truck he was using.

After dropping off the car, I waited around until a friend from work picked me up, and then worked until sometime in the neighborhood of 3:00 AM. (Typical election night in the newsroom: bad food and stressed people yelling a lot.)

Finally went to bed around 5:00 AM, at which point there was still hope that the mysterious provisional ballots in Ohio might yet salvage the Kerry campaign. By the time I woke up at 11:00, the illusion had worn off, and Kerry had called Bush to concede.

So I sit here now digesting the fact that I live in a country full of people who think the Iraq war has been a success, that the economy is just dandy, thankyouverymuch, and that the most important public policy issue for the new millenium is making sure that Steve and Roy can't marry.

Furthermore, the mechanic just called. We've now broken the $500 mark.

Today I am 29 years old.

Like a swarm of locusts with a sweet tooth

Last year I only got a few Trick-or-Treaters, so I wasn't expecting all that many this year. Even so, I loaded my trusty tin bucket 3/4 full of candy just in case.

But for some reason, this year is different and I'm getting hoardes of kids. 2/3 of the candy is already gone, and it's only 7:00! I have this bad feeling that I might run out before the night is through.

Furthermore, the annoying yappy dog next door just wouldn't shut up. Whenever he's left outside after dark (which unfortunately happens with great frequency) he barks pretty steadily. But tonight with the masses of costumed critters around the 'hood, it was especially bad. Furthermore, my usual trick of drowning it out with headphones or the TV wouldn't work, because I needed to listen for Trick-or-Treaters. So after about an hour and a half of continuous barking, I finally got fed up, called the neighbors, and asked if they could PLEASE put the dog inside. I feel like Scrooge McNeighbor, but at least I can finally hear myself think!

"How far down the rabbit hole do you want to go?"

It's appropriate that the title of What the #$*! Do We Know!? (AKA 'What the bleep do we know?') is a question, because the film is more about stirring up a tasty goulash of provocative questions than it is about providing any sort of concrete answers. It has been criticized by a number of scientific and religious authorities. And it is one of the few times I can remember a movie audience applauding during the closing credits.

I went to see this movie last night simply because I saw the title on Fandango, clicked through to a description, and decided it sounded interesting. I had no agenda going in. Coming out, I'm not sure. I can say for sure that it's been quite a while since a movie made me think this much.

The film is an effort to relate quantum physics, spiritual mysticism and elements of post-modern thought into a coherent worldview that rejects the idea of objective reality and instead emphasizes the power of thought to influence reality. All this is done through a narrative storyline featuring Marlee Matlin as a neurotic photographer in Portland, Oregon, a bunch of truly phenomenal computer graphics, and a series of talking heads -- everyone from physics professors to "Ramtha," a 35,000 year old prophet allegedly being channeled by a psychic.

In clicking around the Web, I've seen it described as "The Matrix without the robots and computers." I've seen it described as a promotional flick for a new-age cult. I've seen it described as pseudoscientific bunk. In this public radio program, the director shrugs off criticism. He was trying to make people ask questions, he says. That people have a strong reaction to it shows that it worked. The show also features a skeptic of the film and a physicist interviewed in the film, and the two go several rounds about whether the scientific claims hold up. One of the folks on this show said something along the lines of "skepticism is important -- no one should accept ideas blindly without questioning them. But at the same time, skepticism only maintains the status quo. It takes leaps of imagination to move forward."

Interestingly, the idea that advanced physics may provide a theoretical framework for spirituality also popped up in Angels & Demons, a Dan Brown paperback I recently picked up while stranded at National Airport. As a novel, I thought this book wasn't that great (it read like a rough draft for his later and more well known The Da Vinci Code). But one of the premises of the book is that the Vatican had been secretly supporting quantum physics research at CERN because it offered the possibility of resolving conflicts between science and religion. Remarkably similar to the science-spirituality connections hinted at by "What the bleep."

One of the scientists interviewed in the film tells a story about how when the American Indians who first saw Columbus' ships come over the horizon, they literally did not see ships. Instead they saw a large wave in the ocean. They had never seen large ships, so their worldview did not permit such a thing to exist. It was only after a spiritual leader spent several days staring at the sea that he perceived that these were ships bearing people. At this point he passed on this knowledge, and the worldview of the community changed.

Whether or not this story is apocryphal, it effectively encapsulates the concept behind this film -- that the way we perceive the world is rooted in our preconceptions, and that a total paradigm shift is necessary to truly understand human consciousness. Furthermore, advanced science can be integrated with traditional religion to create a new unified worldview.

I honestly don't know what to make of all this, but it already inspired me to spend several hours online reading about physics and mysticism. Fascinating stuff whether or not you buy into film.

Mouse Hunt

The cat cornered yet another mouse, and this time I got to watch the process. I first became aware that something was afoot when I heard a crash in the dining room followed by a squeak and some scuffling. My cat then tore into the office making strange noises and with something hanging out of her mouth. It was yet another mouse.

Here's the thing. Being felis domesticus of the well-fed, 21st century persuasion, my cat apparently views mice not as food, but as self-propelled playthings. So rather than delivering the death blow, she would periodically let the mouse go and then chase it again. This went on long enough to do several complete circuits of the office and dining room while I devised a gameplan to end the carnage.

My eventual plan involved putting on shoes (I had been lazing around barefoot), donning a pair of work gloves, and grabbing my trusty 5-gallon orange Home Depot bucket. I then joined the chase around the dining room. Eventually the cat cornered the mouse near the curtains, after several false starts, I manged to shake the mouse into the bucket from the bottom of the drapes where it had taken refuge. (The cat, not realizing what had happened, is still skulking around the drapes waiting for the mouse to re-emerge.)

The mouse seemed remarkably calm once it got into the bucket. I think it realized it had been given a reprieve from hours of torture by Goldie the Cat. I walked it to the vacant lot across the street and released it, hoping that maybe it won't feel like crossing the street to come back.

The natural order of things

I have my own little "Wild Kingdom" situation going on in the house. Lately I've heard a bit of skittering in the walls. My suspicion that a mouse family had taken up residence were confirmed a couple of weeks ago when I found a dead mouse in the dining room. It was reasonably intact, and I thought perhaps it had died laughing at the cat's efforts to stalk it. (I had noticed her spending a great deal of time staring at the refrigerator -- presumably the doorway to mouse HQ is somewhere back there.)

Early this morning, I arrived home to find a smug looking cat and a another thoroughly disembowled mouse on the dining room rug. And I mean thoroughly. We're talking decapitation and mutilation, folks. I'm writing this entry as in order to avoid the task at hand, which is picking up the pieces. Ugh.

Hopefully that's the last mouse. I'm not looking forward to much more of this.

Keeping up with the news...

Today's highlights:

• William Donald Schaefer is a dumbass, as usual
• Update on what has now become known as the "Voodoo Hand
• Mason's sell out, allow historic building to be demolished by evil developer.

Democracy in action

Last night I escaped from work around 8:30 and dashed over to Two Doors Down, a sports bar where a bunch of Democrats and fellow travelers were getting together to watch the debate. A friend at work told me about this, and I figured it would beat watching it at home or the office. (More beer, if nothing else.) The crowd was pretty tough on Bush, and frankly it was somewhat inspiring to be in a room with a bunch of other people who are fired up about actual issues -- the war, environmental laws, erosion of civil liberties, etc. A pleasant break from the constant horse-race coverage of attack ads and spin.

As the night wore on, one thing led to another, and I suddenly found myself coughing up the $7.50 for a ticket to Michael Moore's appearance at the GEC.

Tonight's event, sponsored by the Music Row Democrats, was kicked off by the head of the Kerry campaign in Tennessee. He introduced a theme present throughout the evening: Kerry could still win Tennessee.

This being music city, there was also a strong musical presence. MRD unveiled Takin' My Country Back a new song produced by Honky Tonkers for Truth. [MP3], and "Bob Something" of Monkey Bowl weighed in with two songs, including Al Gore, featuring a taped cameo by none other than Al Gore, who lives down the street from him in Belle Meade.

The musical headliner, however, was a short acoustic set by Steve Earle, who said he turned down a gig in Arizona to be in Nashville because "we're not giving up on winning Tennessee."

Earle then introduced Moore, who I believe had been watching the opening acts from a seat a few rows in front of mine. He donned his trademark red baseball cap and arrived onstage as disheveled as ever. The crowd, while certainly not a sellout for the arena, was surprisingly large -- and clearly in Moore's corner all the way.

I'll be up front with you about Michael Moore. I don't agree with everything he says. I think in some ways he is to the left as Rush Limbaugh is to the right -- a rabid ideologue with a tendancy to assume the worst about his opponents. That said, I think by-and-large he makes valid points about many things, especially the war in Iraq. And if nothing else he helps stir up debate important issues and balances out the culture of right-wing talk radio television.

The speech was mostly the same schtick that has already made news elsewhere (including the infamous giveaway of ramen noodles and underwear to folks who didn't vote in the last election.) There were, however, a number of interesting factoids buried in the rhetoric. For example, he drew a contrast between the $18 million or so spent by the 9/11 commission to investigate how to prevent future terror attacts and the $75 million or so spent by the Office of the Independent Council to investigate Bill Clinton's personal life. Moore also predicted that if US foreign policy doesn't change, the country will be forced to reinstate the draft simply because there will no longer be enough volunteers to sustain our military commitments abroad. A bold statement, but perhaps plausible given the manpower problems being encountered in the military as the Iraq quagmire drags on.

Moore said that his next film is going to be about the pharmaceutical industry. Word has leaked out, he said, and Pfizer -- the company that brought you primetime impotence commercials -- is worried. Moore read from a memo that he said was distributed within the company warning staff to be on the lookout for a "a bearded, heavyset man with rumpled clothing and a microphone." If Moore began asking questions, the memo continued, staffers should immediately call a hotline number to report it. This got a good laugh, and the entire arena simultaneously whipped out their cell phones to program in the number for the Pfizer "Michael Moore Hotline." (For reference, it's 212-573-1226, which a Google search reveals as the the number of one of the company's PR flacks.) Moore suggests giving them a buzz on Monday and saying in a whisper "He's heeere... Inside the house....!!!"

After the event, I wandered around downtown for a bit and then strolled back across the bridge to East Nashville. On the way I chatted with a (possibly homeless) man who was headed in the same direction. He says that he's been back in Nashville for six months and has been looking for work, but that the temp agencies and day labor places where he used to be able to get work are now mobbed with unemployed jobseekers.

During our conversation, he tossed off the standard line that Bush and Kerry are just two sides of the same coin, and that neither of them would make the economy better. I retorted that while Kerry might not be ideal, could he really do any worse than Bush? That brought a snort of agreement. Perhaps this isn't the best criteria for choosing a president, but one I'm pretty comfortable with at this point.

Speaking of animals...

If I were a dog, I would most certainly bite anyone who tried to dress me as Raggedy Ann. I'm just sayin'...

Blessing of the Animals

I was in DC this weekend for several reasons, including a freelance gig photographing a reunion and an attempt to burn my U.S. Airways frequent flyer miles before the company goes under. It happened to be "Blessing of the Animals" day at my mom's church, so I ended up photographing that as well.

Unfortunately, my good digital camera is in the shop, so this weekend I was using a combination of my point and shoot Powershot S45 (gives decent results in good light, not so much with the flash), and a new EOS Rebel TI that I bought so as to be able to use my canon lenses and stuff with film. After realizing how much it's going to cost to process the 11 rolls I shot, I'm reminded why I like digital so much! :/