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| Covers of Philip K. Dick Books |
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Philip K. Dick Book Covers
I posted a public Picasa gallery of paperback covers here:
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Where Have I Been All Week?
It was Spring Break, and Amy and I took the week off. The kids went to Timberline Lodge with their cousins and their cousins' cousins. Here's the week in pictures:
Aunt Audrey turned 80 in Eugene:
Carrie told us to come over for Easter:
We stayed at a hotel downtown while the kids were gone:
We did a lot of napping:
We took a trip up to the wildlife refuge in Ridgefield, Washington:
There are more photos in a public gallery called "March 2008" -- and Cleo and Iris's photos of their ski trip, at this place.
Aunt Audrey turned 80 in Eugene:
Carrie told us to come over for Easter:
We stayed at a hotel downtown while the kids were gone:
We did a lot of napping:
We took a trip up to the wildlife refuge in Ridgefield, Washington:
There are more photos in a public gallery called "March 2008" -- and Cleo and Iris's photos of their ski trip, at this place.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
Iris and Honor Win Video Contest
Honor and Iris entered a video contest about new state requirements for schoolchildren... and they won! You can go here to see the video, as well as the other videos that either won or got Honorable Mention. Congratulations to Iris and Honor! We're told they won $1,000!!
Washougaled!
Yesterday I was in Camas, Washington. It looks like this:
I went down to the Washougal River by way of a little park area that started at the bowling alley on the eastern outskirts of town.
I went down to the Washougal River by way of a little park area that started at the bowling alley on the eastern outskirts of town.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Mug Shot Goodness
Father and son in Florida... they like their tattoos out there for you to see! Mugshot courtesy of The Smoking Gun.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
2 Quick Movie Reviews
This past weekend we saw two movies at the cinema.
Saturday, at Lloyd Cinemas, we saw 10,000 B.C.. We figured it would be dumb, and it was. We arrived late and missed the first ten minutes, so there's a chance we missed out on a key scene that made the rest of the movie un-dumber. But there are some cool big-screen kind of effects, and that's good.
There's also some kind of impossible geography that has our heroic tribe venturing from snow-capped mountains, across deserts and through tropical jungles to get to the Egypt that's not really Egypt. Along the way they seem to meet African warriors from the Congo, Amazonian tribesmen, Australian bushmen, Native Americans and a few frat boys from a Pac 10 school on the eastern seaboard. Here's a frame from the movie, with dialog as best I remember:
Sunday we saw Girls Rock, the documentary about Portland's Rock Camp for Girls, at the Hollywood Theater, up the street. It was good, although a little long-ish in the middle. It was also a little sadder than I expected.
And it was maybe a little heavy-handed on the message, as if the (male) filmmakers wanted to make sure and impress the gals at the camp with how committed they are to feminism. Maybe that's too harsh a criticism. Men my age are 77% more likely to be harshly critical than our animal counterparts (spirit animals).
Turns out I used to know the parents of one of the girls profiled in the movie. I was surprised by that.
It was a better movie than 10,000 B.C., but both experiences were equally good.
Saturday, at Lloyd Cinemas, we saw 10,000 B.C.. We figured it would be dumb, and it was. We arrived late and missed the first ten minutes, so there's a chance we missed out on a key scene that made the rest of the movie un-dumber. But there are some cool big-screen kind of effects, and that's good.
There's also some kind of impossible geography that has our heroic tribe venturing from snow-capped mountains, across deserts and through tropical jungles to get to the Egypt that's not really Egypt. Along the way they seem to meet African warriors from the Congo, Amazonian tribesmen, Australian bushmen, Native Americans and a few frat boys from a Pac 10 school on the eastern seaboard. Here's a frame from the movie, with dialog as best I remember:
Sunday we saw Girls Rock, the documentary about Portland's Rock Camp for Girls, at the Hollywood Theater, up the street. It was good, although a little long-ish in the middle. It was also a little sadder than I expected.
And it was maybe a little heavy-handed on the message, as if the (male) filmmakers wanted to make sure and impress the gals at the camp with how committed they are to feminism. Maybe that's too harsh a criticism. Men my age are 77% more likely to be harshly critical than our animal counterparts (spirit animals).
Turns out I used to know the parents of one of the girls profiled in the movie. I was surprised by that.
It was a better movie than 10,000 B.C., but both experiences were equally good.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Guy Hehn Day in Silverton, Oregon
9 March 2008. Guy Hehn Day is 12 March, but is traditionally celebrated within three weeks either side of that.
Guest of Honor, Guy Hehn.
Flashmob outside the restaurant.
In the back alley, rug deals are made out of the back of a mini-van. The mean streets of Silverton.
Party Planning Committee member, Wanda Hehn.
Finally, Silverton's signature dessert, fried bananas. In honor of the thousands of banana trees they chopped down to found the town in 1861. Now the bananas have to be imported.
Guest of Honor, Guy Hehn.
Flashmob outside the restaurant.
In the back alley, rug deals are made out of the back of a mini-van. The mean streets of Silverton.
Party Planning Committee member, Wanda Hehn.
Finally, Silverton's signature dessert, fried bananas. In honor of the thousands of banana trees they chopped down to found the town in 1861. Now the bananas have to be imported.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Americana, ca. 2008
This was at the local Fred Meyer, a cardboard display to sell packing materials. Pretty warm and inviting name, CareMail... and you'll notice the planet they chose to "dot" the i -- sure, pick a good, safe planet, one that everyone likes. Earth, yeah wow, big surprise! Mainstream idiots.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Japan!
Last night around dinnertime I figured I just had to get a new rice cooker. Ours stopped working two days ago, and a rice cooker is a necessary piece of kitchen equipment. We had a cheap, beat up one from some Asian market for about seventeen years. A few months ago I bought a new one -- not because the old one stopped working, but because it seemed like maybe we were due for a better-looking one.
It's the new one that stopped working. The old one is still around, but now it's become part of the camping equipment and I didn't want to dig it out. So I thought I'd pop up the street to Than Thao Market for a new one, presuming I could get another little cheap one.
The old Vietnamese (?) guy came over to help me right away, shouting, "Rice cooka? Rice cooka? How many cup? How many cup?"
The smallest ones were 5.5 cup capacity, larger than I really want or need. They had two of them. He pointed to one and said "uh... ninety five dolla!" He pointed to the other one and said "...this one betta! One hundred seven dolla! Betta!"
I said "wow, that's a lot of money!" I was surprised they were that expensive. Every thing else in that store is absurdly cheap.
Again he pointed to the $107 cooker and said "much betta," while pointing to the box, where it said "Made in Japan."
I nodded, but didn't say anything. I was trying to decide just how much I wanted a rice cooker -- enough to buy the wrong one? Again he pointed to the box and said, "betta... JAPAN!!"
I asked "why is that one better?"
He got wide-eyed and said "JAPAN!!"
He pointed to the cheaper one and said "Thai!" and shook his head.
I laughed and said, "you telling me they can't make good rice cookers in Thailand?"
He shook his head again and pointed to the other box. "JAPAN!!" he shouted.
So I took a leap and said I'd buy the one from Japan. Even though it's bigger and more expensive than I'd wanted.
But I got up to the cash register and realized that -- in my haste to rush out to buy a rice cooker -- I had left my wallet at home. I didn't have enough cash to buy either one of his rice cooka.
Japan!
It's the new one that stopped working. The old one is still around, but now it's become part of the camping equipment and I didn't want to dig it out. So I thought I'd pop up the street to Than Thao Market for a new one, presuming I could get another little cheap one.
The old Vietnamese (?) guy came over to help me right away, shouting, "Rice cooka? Rice cooka? How many cup? How many cup?"
The smallest ones were 5.5 cup capacity, larger than I really want or need. They had two of them. He pointed to one and said "uh... ninety five dolla!" He pointed to the other one and said "...this one betta! One hundred seven dolla! Betta!"
I said "wow, that's a lot of money!" I was surprised they were that expensive. Every thing else in that store is absurdly cheap.
Again he pointed to the $107 cooker and said "much betta," while pointing to the box, where it said "Made in Japan."
I nodded, but didn't say anything. I was trying to decide just how much I wanted a rice cooker -- enough to buy the wrong one? Again he pointed to the box and said, "betta... JAPAN!!"
I asked "why is that one better?"
He got wide-eyed and said "JAPAN!!"
He pointed to the cheaper one and said "Thai!" and shook his head.
I laughed and said, "you telling me they can't make good rice cookers in Thailand?"
He shook his head again and pointed to the other box. "JAPAN!!" he shouted.
So I took a leap and said I'd buy the one from Japan. Even though it's bigger and more expensive than I'd wanted.
But I got up to the cash register and realized that -- in my haste to rush out to buy a rice cooker -- I had left my wallet at home. I didn't have enough cash to buy either one of his rice cooka.
Japan!
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Grid Schmid
Tuesday around lunchtime I was coming back from buying coffee and overheard this exchange from a couple of high school boys as they walked past our house.
"Which way is 42nd? It's this way, right?" He pointed from 37th (our street) to the east, which is indeed where 42nd Avenue is.
"Naw, man, it's THIS WAY. You gotta go down this way, THEN over that way." He pointed down 37th, then indicated a turn left that would, indeed, take you to 42nd. They were both right, but they stood there and argued for a couple of minutes about which way to go.
I did NOT think those kids were dumb for their puzzlement, because I know how screwy some of these streets are around here. In this case they wouldn't have run into any confusion, but if they were a few blocks over, it would make a difference if they went a block down before heading east.
One thing you hear in this town is how it's laid out on "a grid," and so it's relatively easy to find your way around. Much easier than, say, Boston.
But of course Portland is full of spots that don't quite fit the grid concept, so when you're new here you drive around and get lost and wonder what the hell everyone was thinking, boasting about this stupid grid that, near as you can tell, is a fantasy.
Near our house is a wacky intersection at 39th and Broadway and Sandy. I have two theories as to how they came up with this complicated design, which I am including here in comic form, comics being the "last great American art form," as someone has once said perhaps.
THEORY 1
THEORY B
"Which way is 42nd? It's this way, right?" He pointed from 37th (our street) to the east, which is indeed where 42nd Avenue is.
"Naw, man, it's THIS WAY. You gotta go down this way, THEN over that way." He pointed down 37th, then indicated a turn left that would, indeed, take you to 42nd. They were both right, but they stood there and argued for a couple of minutes about which way to go.
I did NOT think those kids were dumb for their puzzlement, because I know how screwy some of these streets are around here. In this case they wouldn't have run into any confusion, but if they were a few blocks over, it would make a difference if they went a block down before heading east.
One thing you hear in this town is how it's laid out on "a grid," and so it's relatively easy to find your way around. Much easier than, say, Boston.
But of course Portland is full of spots that don't quite fit the grid concept, so when you're new here you drive around and get lost and wonder what the hell everyone was thinking, boasting about this stupid grid that, near as you can tell, is a fantasy.
Near our house is a wacky intersection at 39th and Broadway and Sandy. I have two theories as to how they came up with this complicated design, which I am including here in comic form, comics being the "last great American art form," as someone has once said perhaps.
THEORY 1
THEORY B
Monday, February 25, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
My Taco Bell Experience
I went to Taco Bell today, where the food is so inexpensive I'm forced to come up with mental techniques to avoid thinking about how it's even possible.
I ordered. I wanted some of their hot sauce, but the bins for the packets were empty. There were bins full of mild sauce, but there was no hot sauce.
I asked about the hot sauce and was told you have to ask for it. My first question wasn't enough... I then had to ask for it. As she gave it to me she further explained that "people kept taking too much of the hot sauce."
In an unexpected relaxation of my own personal code ("don't be a smart-ass," adopted in 1992), I said, "...so, you don't want to provide the sauce that most people want to have?"
A nearby do-gooder, who looked to me like Pastor Bob from Central Casting, offered a surprisingly righteous "People abuse their privileges...."
Whoa... WHA-? I was this close to saying "we are talking about hot sauce here, right?"
But I could tell I was outnumbered! I was in no position to explain how krazy it sounded to offer free packets of the unpopular sauce while making it difficult to get the free packets customers actually want.
Plus, a Taco Bell is not the place where I'm finally going to take a stand. Not that Taco Bell, anyway.
I ordered. I wanted some of their hot sauce, but the bins for the packets were empty. There were bins full of mild sauce, but there was no hot sauce.
I asked about the hot sauce and was told you have to ask for it. My first question wasn't enough... I then had to ask for it. As she gave it to me she further explained that "people kept taking too much of the hot sauce."
In an unexpected relaxation of my own personal code ("don't be a smart-ass," adopted in 1992), I said, "...so, you don't want to provide the sauce that most people want to have?"
A nearby do-gooder, who looked to me like Pastor Bob from Central Casting, offered a surprisingly righteous "People abuse their privileges...."
Whoa... WHA-? I was this close to saying "we are talking about hot sauce here, right?"
But I could tell I was outnumbered! I was in no position to explain how krazy it sounded to offer free packets of the unpopular sauce while making it difficult to get the free packets customers actually want.
Plus, a Taco Bell is not the place where I'm finally going to take a stand. Not that Taco Bell, anyway.
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