Derby photos

I think I promised photos of Bout 1, Season 4 of the mighty Rat City Rollergirls, didn't I? Well, here's a link to the Picasa album:

RCRG S4B1

Personally, my favorite is this one, 'cause Dr. 5ive looks like a beatnik rather than a revolutionary. And Jinx, as always, just looks cute:

Wanna buy a bike?

I've got, um, 4 of them for sale...soon to be on Craigslist (maybe tomorrow), but here are the specs, from largest to smallest:

1. Sekai Grantour 2500 10-speed, circa 1980-ish. It was my Dad's bike, a bit too big for him, really, and it's been sitting in Mom's garage since probably the mid to late '80s. As far as I can tell it's got a 62cm frame (down-tube), with a 34" stand-over height. It's a 10-speed with the classic "fingertip shifters" that were all the rage back in the day. Here's a picture:
   
   
2. Fuji Royale 12-speed, early '80s model. I rode this in the mid to late '80s, toured the Oregon Coast and about half of England on it, but it's just too big. No idea what I was thinking back then, but clearly it wasn't "gee, if I stop fast and have to put both feet down I'm going to be in a LOT of pain". It's a 57cm frame, roughly, with a 33" standover height and a full touring setup (although the rear fender is missing):
   
   
3. Atami Grantour 10-speed, early '80s vintage. This was my bike before I went insane and got the Fuji, and even IT is a bit too big. Man, my legs must have shrunk. It's a 52cm frame with a 31.5" standover, fingertip shifters, fenders and a rear rack. There's currently no seat, but hey, I'd be glad to pull the seat off one of the other bikes for you if that would help.
   
   
4. And finally, the newest and smallest of the bikes is a Fuji Newest, maybe a 2005 model. It's all super-modern, 18 speeds (or maybe 21...I didn't count), those fancy-pants rapid-fire shifters on the brake levers, street-level camouflage (meaning it's gray...), etc. I bought this one off of Craigslist last month thinking it was the right size, but clearly my 18 years of mountain biking have warped my sense of size, 'cause it's way too short. The guy I bought it from billed it as a 49cm frame, but looking on the Fuji site (based purely on the frame color) I think it's really a 44. If only I could get it to breed with the Fuji Royale I might get a bike that's the right size...
   
   

Anyhow, if you're interested in any of these, let me know!

Doh!

Too distracted yesterday by my broken spoke (15 miles in to a 30 mile ride...fortunately it was all in-city and I could catch a bus home so Paige didn't have to rescue me) and retouching the Derby photos to get a post up yesterday. So, uh, now we're aiming for what, Blog 363? Not sure how many I've missed...

My ears are ringing

Why? 'cause tonight marked the start of my second-favorite sporting season (after Football, naturally): Roller Derby!

Haven't processed the photos yet (and there aren't a huge number 'cause I got there too late to get the choice trackside seat, and therefore many photos feature the shoulder of the guy in front of me), but will post a few tomorrow. Suffice it to say it was fun, it was loud, and both of the wrong teams won. Damn.

Album cover, take 3 or 4

So this one doesn't exactly follow the rules of the album cover meme, 'cause I got the band name from Tina's description of the smell of prenatal vitamins. But the album title and cover art do follow. Although admittedly I tweaked the coloring of the picture so it would look cooler...

Some advice for this Good Friday

Thanks to the Daily Telegraph and the Philipine Health Department, we now know that crucifixion is bad for you. But if you're going to do it, please bring plenty of water to make sure you stay hydrated. Oh, and don't forget to get a tetanus shot, and autoclave the nails you plan to use...

A post for Tina, the Gallivanting Monkey, on my experience as the dad of two kids

OK, so I was reading Gallivanting Monkey's latest post about weather to have a second kid or not. And in the comments section my friend (and Tina's) John commented that, and I quote,

"Exponentially more challenging, a harder challenge than you can imagine, no SERIOUSLY I'm not just being cute about that, also indescribably wonderful, also VERY VERY HARD."

Well, I had this great rebuttal comment all written out at work, but I didn't submit it for a while and apparently Blogger doesn't like that. Or is all attention-deficited or something. Anyway, it lost it and I didn't have time to re-write it. So then I came home and compared notes with Mrs. Chicken, wrote up the response and decided it was too long for a comment and to post it here instead. So, for what it's worth, here's my opinion on the difficulty of raising two kids as opposed to raising one: don't listen to John. Or, more accurately, listen to him, then listen to me, then make up your own dang mind. Here's our experience:

Having two is definitely not exponentially harder than one. Hell, it's not even linearly harder than one. Now clearly we are lucky: Logan was (and remains) a great first kid - he's smart, he self-entertains, he's secure in his place in the family, and he's generally willing to suck it up. And he was, from day one, excited to be a big brother and we had none of the sibling rivalry stuff. No stuffing the baby in a box and shipping it to Tanzania, no cutting off all her hair, heck, no complaining about having a new body in bed with Mom and Dad. I think this was a combination of who he is, how we raised him for the first 3 1/2 years of his life (co-sleeping, nursing for 2+ years, plenty of snuggling and other positive reinforcement of our love for him), and the fact that, at roughly 3 when we told him he was going to have a little sister, he could understand what was coming and work it in to his world view. It didn't hurt that he had friends in pre-school who also had little brothers or sisters.

Also lucky was the fact that they have genuine affection for each other. They are way closer than I was (or am) to either of my sisters (which isn’t surprising, since they’re 9 and 10 years older than me), and probably get along 80 to 90% of the time. Yes, they fight. Yes, she annoys him and he annoys them. But they work it out, and most of the time they get along great.

All of that leads up to my “not even linearly harder” comment. From day 1 Logan has been Maya’s entertainment. When she was a baby he played with her as a toy, kind of treating her like a stuffed animal (only without the “dragging her around the house by a leg” thing), and as she got older as a playmate. Sure, the first few time she exercised some individuality and didn’t go along with her brother’s grand schemes he’d get upset and break down, but once he realized that she wasn’t a robot things got better.

There is one drawback, at least in our family: the fact that she’s been entertained since day 1 makes Maya much less of an independent player than her brother. So on the days when he’s not around, or when he’d rather be building Legos or drawing comics or whatever, she’s often lost. Bored. Uninspired. In other words, the opposite of her brother who spent the first three and a half years of his life learning to entertain himself.

Which brings me to the final point in the whole thing: Whatever you do, don’t expect kid #2 to be another version of kid #1. If we are in any way typical, he or she will be the exact opposite in many, many ways. In our case, where Logan was quiet, Maya was loud. Where he is generally even-tempered, she can freakin' GO OFF. The list goes on and on. And it’s all good, ‘cause they complement each other well. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t find myself thinking “why does this bother her? It doesn’t bother her brother…”

NERDS! But in an entertaining way...

Nerdiness #1: This weekend is Norwescon, the Northwest Science Fiction Convention. It's going on, as it has since time immemorial (or at least he mid-80s), in glorious SeaTac Washington. In my geeky youth days I went a couple times but a) I wasn't old enough to drink, b) I didn't drink when it was offered (OK, I might have had a beer), and c) I neither rented a room nor hooked up with anyone. Basically I hung out with my friends, listened to some authors and/or speakers, and played games. So now it's Norwescon 31 and my friend Eric, with whom I went lo these many years ago, e-mails me to say "I'm feeling geeky...anyone want to go?" Tempting, but I have to ride the bike.

Nerdiness #2: Patrick Rothfus, author of "The Name of the Wind" (a book you should read immediately if not sooner), is supposedly going to be at Norwescon. Which makes sense, since that's his audience. And he's in town anyway on a book tour. So I'm on his Facebook page and see a link to a post in his blog, and there's this YouTube video called "The Guild". Which totally depicts the modern version of the nerd I was in High School. Or, rather, the uber-nerds I encountered in High School at conventions like Norwescon and DragonFlight (where I may or may not have encountered Steve Chicken over a hotly contested Car Wars tournament). The key difference: we holed up in Eric's basement to slay orcs and whatnot. So there was some f2f...and you couldn't play all day 'cause your Mom would still expect you to mow the lawn.

Anyhow, without further ado, here's episode 1 of "The Guild"

What a difference a day makes...

Here, a day late and a dollar short, is the post I meant to write yesterday...

So I rode both Sunday and Monday, my first moderately serious back-to-back training days. The schedule said 40 miles Saturday and Sunday, but with Paige's birthday madness and my need to watch the kids, Saturday was a no-go. So I figured "Hey, I could drive up to Mom's house on Sunday, check the fit on my old road bikes, then ride home. Then Monday after work I could ride back over there, get the car, and go home!" Genius, right? Well, sort of...

Sunday:

The first problem is that it's not 40 miles from Mom's to my house. It's like 33 or so. But hey, I'm off the training plan anyway, and that's farther than I've ridden so far, so what the heck. The second problem is that I waste a bunch of time and don't get out of the house until 11:10. I'd been aiming for 10:30. Crap. I have to be home by 3:30 so Paige can take Maya to a Girl Scout Cookie site-sale and not have to drag Logan along. "Hmm," I thought, "guess I'll have to push it a bit."

I make it to Mom's in good time (around noon, I think), clean out her roof drains, try out the bikes (both too tall...did my legs shrink, or did I just not care if I racked myself on the cross-bar when I was in High School?), chat with Mom, and hit the road. The first two miles from Mom's house are great: Pretty much straight down hill, not a lot of work, and a chance to get up some serious speed. Being 41 and careful, rather than 18 and nuts like I was the last time I rode this hill, I only topped out at around 35. Still a rush, but not completely out of control. From the foot of the hill I headed west to catch the Lake Washington Loop bike trail, rolling up and down minor hills from Coal Creek to Renton. In Renton things got a bit sketchy, since I wasn't exactly sure what the route was (and, apparently, delivery trucks don't like bikes in Renton 'cause they all honked at me). Eventually I found my way to Rainier Avenue and headed north toward Seward Park.

To this point I'd been making pretty good time, averaging around 15mph on the flats and down hills. Rainier is a bit more hilly, but I still kept the pace up, although I did slow to a pseudo-crawl on the last climb before the drop back to the lake at Seward Park. From there it was flat and smooth up the lake to Leshi (with a brief pit stop at the 20-mile mark), and I was able to keep up the pace. But all things must come to an end, and the nice flat Lakeshore Drive (Lakeview? One of those...) ends and it's time to climb. I chose to go up Madrona, which is long and moderately steep, but also straight. I gear down to the "not quite granny gear" (because my rear deraileur is mis-adjusted and won't stay in the lowest climbing gear) and crank away. And sweat. Lots and lots of sweat.

I finally reach the top of the hill, coast down through a neighborhood or two, and make it to the Arboretum. Which provides another great downhill run, although not as long or as steep as the descent from Mom's so I only hit 27 or so. Still, I'm making good time and cranking away. Across the Montlake bridge, down the Burke Gilman trail to Fremont, then north and up the hill home. I make it there around 3:20, pound some water, take a shower, and collapse in a heap on the couch. Whew!

Monday:

I wake up Monday still exhausted. Not a good sign. And my quads hurt a lot. Not as bad as the day after the one spinning class I've ever taken in my life (which resulted in charley horses so massive I had to take a day off of work because I couldn't go down the stairs...), but still pretty bad. But I shower, gear up, eat, and hit the road. Not to ride in, mind you, just to the bus...which goes well - the legs don't seem to mind riding as much as they do walking. Weird.

I spend most of Monday at work fluctuating between "oh my God I'm tired" and "wow, my legs really hurt." Neither of which is giving me much hope of making it to Mom's in one piece. So I begin revising the plan. First to go: the full route. My initial plan was to ride to Fremont from downtown, then basically repeat Sunday's route in reverse: University, Arboretum, Seward Park, Renton, Coal Creek, then up the hill. I figured this would be 30 miles or so. But 30 miles mid-day and 30 miles chasing darkness are two different things, and I don't think I can safely leave work at 2:30 or whatever. So I opt to cut off the north loop. I'll just head to I-90, ride through the tunnel, then pick up the lake route from there. That'll be more like 25 miles.

Then the afternoon goes on and it's clear I won't get out at 3:30 or 4 either, so I cut out Renton altogether and in the end just do the straight I-90 shot across Mercer Island, then ride down to Coal Creek before beginning the loooong slog up hill. And long it is. Looking at the distance chart you can see that the speed drops like a rock as the elevation starts to climb. And looking at the time-series chart, it appears that the last 2.5 miles took about as long as the first 10, if not longer. Yowch. Definitely not an easy ascent, and I doubt I would have been much faster with fresh legs. Don't remember the hill being that long or that steep when I was a kid...must have grown since then.

The Graphic Evidence

Here's the distance chart for Sunday: High speed (blue, left scale), net altitude drop (green, right scale)...



Then there's Monday (same color/scale scheme, shorter distance), distance and time series:



Gotta love that speed drop at the end...

Best laid plans...

Man, I had plans for a fabulous post tonight, rife with charts and graphs and, perhaps, lots of laughs. But I'm tired and don't want to. So it will have to wait for tomorrow. Suffice it to say I biked yesterday and today with very different results. But you'll have to wait until tomorrow for the evidence.

Chickens on the radio

In case you missed it, John "Little Jackie Chicken" Moe, who in addition to being the now former singer of Chicken Starship is also a reporter on public radio's "Weekend America". John, as was recapped on his blog, has moved from Seattle to St. Paul to be closer to all things Public and Radio, and is doing a series about the move. The first installment, his farewell to the band, aired yesterday. But if you missed it, here it is!

Happy Birthday, Sparky!

Today is Mrs. Sparky Chicken's birthday! So send her an e-mail and wish her a happy one. Or just comment here and I'll pass it on...

Any tent suggestions?

On the off chance any of the small handful of people that read this knows anything about backpacking tents, I'm looking for a recommendation. As I mentioned in the camping recap post on Monday, Logan's now a boy scout and will be doing some camping (almost said "more", but that would imply that there had been some previously). And I'm planning on going with him, 'cause it's fun.

So the dilemma is we've only got one tent, the old early '80s Eureka Timberline that I used back in the day. Well, it's a fine tent, and new poles are on order so setting it up will get easier. But that doesn't solve the dilemma of who sleeps in what tent when we're both on an outing. 'cause the Scouts are supposed to be pseudo self-sufficient on these outings, with the adults camping slightly away from them. So we need two tents.

Add to that the fact that tent construction has improved since 1981 or whenever the Timberline was purchased, and with the wonders of second- and third-world production the prices are relatively cheap. So we come to the ultimate question: any recommendations for a decent, affordable moderately lightweight tent? I'm thinking 2 person rating, 'cause I like to spread out, and it would let the boy take it if I weren't going (what, you didn't think I'd give him the new equipment, did you?), but still be light enough for me to carry solo without weighing me down too much.

Right now I'm looking at the Cabelas XPG, but the only reviews I can find are on the Cabelas web site, and that makes me suspect...

Breakfast for dinner

Man I love that. And no, not the old bachelor standby of a bowl of cereal, I'm talking actual cooked breakfast. We used to have waffles for dinner on Sundays when I was a kid (at least that's how I remember it...), and for a while we continued the tradition. Then we kind of slacked off, and now it's more of a treat than a standard piece of the dinner repertoire.

So tonight I come home, soaking wet because I rode my bike and it was (surprise surprise) raining like hell, to word from Maya Chicken that "we're having little pancakes!" A statement which Paige corrects to "no, we're having Little Itty Bitty Alan Greenspan." Which was the name Tina (I think it was Tina...) entered in the "Name the Big Puffy Pancake" contest at John's house about, oh, 10 years ago.

We're pretty sure they're actually called Dutch Babies, but we like the Greenspan name better.

Thank you, Mary Anne!

What with all the Elliot "you can stop calling me Elliot Ness" Spitzer stuff in the news, the tale of Dawn "Mary Anne from Gilligan's Island" Wells getting pulled over with a bunch of pot kind of slipped through the cracks. Which is too bad, 'cause it's a much more entertaining story.

First off, the Spitzer thing is right out of Greek theater. What's the saying, Hubris ahtay nemasis? (sorry...never took Greek so I don't know how to spell "ahtay" and went phonetic on it...) A fancy way of saying "pride comes before the fall". We all secretly hoped that he'd screw up somehow, and it's nicely poetic that he gets hoist on the petard that he created (I should probably find out what a "petard" is so I know if I'm completely butchering that metaphor...should, but won't).

Ms. Wells, on the other hand, is one of the great all-American sex symbols of my youth, 'cause really, Ginger was way too unatainable. Mary Anne, though, you thought you might have a chance with. And now that we know she's a big ol' (alleged) stoner the whole coconut cream pie thing makes hella more sense.

Why I don't drive a Rally car

'cause then I'd be on a video like this...

Ouch!

Yeah, I know, I've used that headline before. But this time it's about me, not some dude losing an arm.

So as I may have mentioned before, by brother-in-law roped me in to riding the STP this summer, which means I need to get my butt in shape. And my legs, arms, back, neck, etc. And a great way to do this is to do the ol' bike commute. Good for me, good for the environment, blah blah blah.

Today was the first bike commute of the year, and I wanted to break it in easy. So rather than riding both ways I loaded the bike on the bus in the morning (which was great, since it was like 40 and raining out...), then rode home this evening. Which is where the "ouch" comes in.

So I'm sitting at the intersection of 8th Avenue and Westlake down by Lake Union, trying to cross Westlake to continue my ride north. Problem is, there's no light there. And there's a lot of traffic. Well, finally an opening in the traffic appears and I stomp on it. Problem is, I'm in the wrong gear. Waaaaaay too high a gear. So the crank moves slowly, and isn't where I think it's going to be when I stomp down with the right foot to get things going faster. So I hit the pedal with my toe rather than with the ball of the foot, and since I use SPD clipless pedals I sail right off the thing and stamp the ground instead.

But not just the ground, no, that would be too easy! My leg's momentum is forward...I'm expecting to hit the pedal and keep rolling in a circle...and my left foot is on the up-swing...so when I slip off the pedal there's no pressure keeping the crank going around and, naturally, it backs up. Right in to my shin.

Now, at this point, I'm thinking "ouch." I'm also thinking "I'm half way in to the first lane of a busy road and there are cars coming...crap!" So I stomp again, a bit more carefully this time, and make it safely across, swearing at myself and gravity.

Luckily I was wearing tights, so I didn't see the extent of the damage to my leg. It hurt, but I've had similar scrapes before and know that half of the battle is ignoring it. And it's much easier to ignore a wound if it's not bleeding at you. And besides, the tights are, well, tight and so provided a nice compression bandage. And they kept chunks of skin from jamming up my cleat...

Anyhow, it stopped hurting after a few hundred yards, and didn't start hurting again until I got home and had to take off the tights to find...a pretty minor scrape, actually. Probably got some protection from the tights, 'cause it's not as long or deep as I might have expected. It also, thankfully, didn't glue itself to the tights when it scabbed up, so I've got that going for me.

I'll take tomorrow off anyway, though, and let it rest. Then Thursday is the slightly bigger test, riding both ways - in the dark in the morning, no less!

Camping recap

Well, what with all that book meme nonsense yesterday I slacked off on the recap of the boy's first step to adulthood (or at least adolescence), so here it is. At least, here's the recap of a) the part I witnessed, and b) the parts he's told me.

First, the location: they stayed at the Bowman Bay campground at Deception Pass State Park up where Whidbey Island almost touches the mainland. The weather was totally cooperative, with the rain falling over by the foothills and not on the sound. I'd been to the park, but never to this side - and I think we'll have to go back 'cause it's dang purty:

This part of the park has an interpretive center that focuses on the fine men and women of the Civilian Conservation Corps, the sister org. of the PWA that focused on parks and conservation rather than building sweet bridges. But based on the statue they were in good shape and knew how to use an axe:

Anyhow, after a brief stint on the beach, it was time to set up camp, and I got a great deal of enjoyment watching the troop's Senior Patrol Leader (who, at around 15, is half the age of the tent) try to set up this tent that had no flexible poles and no relation to the now standard dome. But they got it up, with a little help from me and a lot of grunting (apparently one of the things the CCC did when they built the camp ground was pack as much rock and gravel in to the tent sites...)

And lastly, before I drove off and left him with the Scouts, I took this shot of some kayakers out enjoying the bay, thinking Bonnie would enjoy it. Didn't switch lenses, though, so you can't really see what they're paddling.

As for the aftermath, he seemed to have had a good time, although as expected he didn't eat much. Why? Well, because while the chicken looked good, they then "put this stuffing on it" ("why not scrape the stuffing off like you do at home?" I asked...and got no response). He had some lunch left over that he ate at dinner, but breakfast was basically hot chocolate because he didn't take to fried spam in a bun. Silly boy...

Meme time

I've officially been tagged with the "123 book meme" by Ms. Frogma. And apparently if I ignore the tag I'll have bad luck for 10 years or something. And since I don't have anything else to write about today (well, not this afternoon, anyway...) I'll play along.

These were the instructions:

1. Pick up the nearest book.

2. Open it at page 123.

3. Find the fifth sentence/ phrase.

4. Blog the next four sentences/ phrases together with these instructions.

5. Don't you dare dig your shelves for that very special or intellectual book.

6. Pass it forward to six friends

So, let's see...the nearest book at this moment is the 1978 classic "Kiss" by John Swenson who, if we are to beleve the cover, is "the greatest rock show on earth". Not to be confused with the Most Important Rock and Roll Band in the world, which as you know is Chicken Starship. Anyhow, the book is from the "Headliners" series, and was a parting gift from John Moe, mailed the day he left town to move to St. Paul.

So, opening to page 123 and following the instructions we find...a picture of the band rocking out. Hmm. This is a problem...page 123 falls near the end of a set of grainy black-and-white photos. So I have to either roll forward to pae 129 or roll back to 105. I'm going to opt for the "go to the closest number" and round up:

"Kiss is a band that's easy to hate," wrote Steven Gaines in the February 2, 175 New York Sunday News. "At other times in the show the band members toss themselves around like madmen in a padded cell...Gene's bloody spout is the goriest moment I've ever seen on any stage, and it has the distasteful sharp edge to it that Alice Cooper never came close to."

Simmons, however, defended the band in his comments to Gaines. "All these critics come and see us and give us bad reviews," he said, "but what they don't say is how much our fans like us."

Well, that's certainly true. And it's good to be reminded that Gene has always had a very healthy ego...

I'm going to modify step 6, since I don't have that many friends who blog, and since one of them tagged me I will tag the other two, Tina and John. John mainly because he gave me the dang book and has so much else going on in his life that he needs a break like this. And Tina to give her something to distract her from the whole election thing.

To the guy next to me at the Alanis Morisette show tonight:

Hey, man, I'm glad you're such a huge Alanis fan. She definitely rocks. Great voice. Good hooks in the songs.

And I'm really glad you've taken the time to listen to all her albums and memorize all the lyrics.

But seriously...your voice sucks donkey. You have no sense of pitch and couldn't carry a tune if I put it in your backpack and stapled it to your shoulders. You've got the volume thing down, though, and that taxi whistle is ear-splittingly impressive, so perhaps a career in professional sports fandom is in order.

The dawn of a new era

Young Logan Chicken takes a bold step tomorrow...he's off on his first Scout camp-out without Dad. Well, I'll be there for some of it...I'll drive him and whoever else up (to Deception Pass State Park), and I'll hang out through Lunch. But then, some time around 1 or so, I'll hop in the car and split, leaving him alone in the wilderness. Only not really, 'cause he'll be surrounded by other Boy Scouts. But kind of, since none of his buddies are going and so the only person he really knows is Nick, who is like a Freshman in High School.

So, why am I abandoning him like this? 'cause I've got tickets to Alanis Morisette, that's why. And really, isn't that more important than the boy's first camp-out?

Actually, while that sounds calous, and while I'd love to stay and spend the weekend up there, in a way it's good 'cause a large part of the Boy Scout thing is teaching independence and self reliance. And that's hard to do when Dad's there, and it's hard for Dad to let go. I still remember my first trip with the Boy Scouts - although it involved actual hiking, rather than just car camping...we left Bellevue on a damp Saturday morning (I think...might have been Friday afternoon) and drove out I-90 a ways, parked, and hiked the whopping 2 miles up to Talapus Lake.

My main memory of that trip were the tents - Troop 638 at the time had tents that were really more of a rain fly...two poles - a tall one in front and a short one in the back - with a couple ropes and a bunch of plastic pegs. If you set it up correctly the bottom of the "tent" ended about 3 inches off the ground. You slept on your ground cloth and hoped that none of it was sticking out under the edge of the tent. They worked fine if you did it right, but if you were on a hill, or it was windy, you were going to get damp. They also didn't keep the critters out, as the guy I was sharing a tent with found out when a chipmunk came in, ate through his pack, and ate a good chunk of his candy bar.

I also remember the poncho. That was the first time I'd worn a rain poncho, and since Dad liked to buy things I could grow into it was huge (well, to his credit it was supposed to be big enough to cover me AND the backpack). We looked like bats wandering around the camp site under the dripping trees.

And I remember that that was when I learned that if you're standing around a camp fire and the smoke is blowing in your face, if you say "I hate rabbits" it makes the smoke go away. Or it's supposed to...it never really worked for me. Wonder if that tradition continues? I guess I'll find out on Sunday when I drive back up to pick the boy up!

Any ideas how I get a new gig?

Not a full-time thing or anything...here's the story: The Seattle PI, the paper I've read since I was a kid, has no TV reporter. They had one for a long time who was great, then he decided to become a Sports reporter or sports columnist or something. Well, that clearly didn't last, 'cause he's no where on the site now.

He was replaced by Melanie McFarland, the "TV Gal", who was also great, but she has since left to work for IMDB or someone. And she's been replaced by, well, a series of syndicated columnists.

Now, there are few things I enjoy more than TV. A diet coke on a hot day, possibly. Sleep. A roast beef and cheddar sandwich on a baguette from the Three Girls Bakery. But I do loves me some TV. But the question is, how do I turn that love of TV in to a paying gig?

Again, I don't want to do it full time...for one thing, I don't think the newspaper industry pays well enough for that. But maybe a freelance column a week? Heck, I do "Scott Chicken's TV Party" on Indy Radio every freaking weekday (except when I'm too tired to record it...), and transposed that into a Blog for a while, so how hard could it be?

Anyhow, if you've got any ins at the PI, let me know!

Quinine, anyone?

Seattle Biomedical Research Institute is looking for volunteers who don't mind a little malaria. And they'll pay you for it, and put you up in a hotel while you get the shakes. Not to mention the headache, nausea, sweating, and weakness. But hey, did I mention you're getting paid and put up in a hotel? Sweet!

Kittie hats?

Who knew? Here I had lived my life thinking that, since they're generally covered with fur, cats didn't nead the kind of headwear that bald guys like me must wear in the winter. How wrong I was...

Small town news...

Back in college I worked for KTEL Radio in mighty Walla Walla. KTEL was a country station, spinning authentic 45s of the greatest Country hits of the mid-80s and earlier (not being a country fan I stuck to the standard hit rotation and routinely threw in Ray Stevens, Jerry Reed, and cross-over acts like the Eagles and CCR). As the youngest member of the air staff by far (I was all of 19 at the time) I also drew the crappiest shift: 6 to noon Saturday and Sunday mornings.

 

Part of the weekend routine was to stop off at the Police station on the way in and pick up the overnight Police Blotter. Then once I got to the station I'd call the two local hospitals and find out who, if anyone, croaked over night. These would then go, along with various national news stories torn (literally) off the AP wire printer, in to the morning's 10-minute news casts, also known as the most terrifying part of my morning.

 

Why terrifying, you ask? Well, the average listener of KTEL was, as far as I could tell, 80 years old and awake at 5:30 listening to KTEL to find out how many of their friends were still alive. So the "Weekend Deathwatch", as I came to call it, was high-pressure. Because 19-year-olds don't know how to pronounce everyone's names. And when they get Aunt Millie Sasperilly's name wrong, Ida Mae Sasperilly will call in and complain. But don't think that the Police Blotter part was any easier...I got reamed once for saying that "a car hit a bicycle at the corner of 2nd and Alder..." because clearly I, a bike rider, was assigning blame to the car. Far better to say "a car and a bicycle collided..."

 

Anyhow, now that I do a canned, voice-tracked radio show that airs 200 miles from my house, I'm far better at reading AP news stories (although thanks to the Internets I no longer have to tear anything...). But I do miss the police blotter. Which is why I was happy to stumble across this, from the Flathead Beacon. Nothing like small-town crimes...a few choice entries:

 

8:41 a.m. A cat crawled under a Willow Glen resident's porch after a car hit it.

4:54 p.m. A 14-year-old girl needed counseling by deputies after she threw a fit and threw her food all over the kitchen floor.

5:14 p.m. Two Coram residents got into a fight over a saw.

6:10 p.m. A woman called in because her 16-year-daughter was threatening to remove her nose ring. (I'm not sure if this means the girl was going to pull out Mom's nose ring or her own...)

Holy crap!

I am definitely glad I wasn't on this flight...

 

 

Not sure what this is an ad for, but it's cool...

And yes, I'm aware that I was going to post a "final show" recap, but I haven't gotten around to it. Too much biking and beer today and now I'm spent. Spent, I tell you!

So instead, here's this ad for something. Hair product, I think...

And one other thing...

Jill Homer (she of the "Jill's Subarctic Snow Biking Blog" link over on the right) finished the Iditerod Trail Invitational this afternoon at 4:20 Alaska time with a total time of 6 days 2 hours 20 minutes. Her report from Nikolai, the checkpoint before the 50-mile push to the end is here...I think this paragraph sums it up well:

Cold weather has been a struggle. I bivied just below Rainy Pass one night as I pushed my bike through the knee-deep snow for 45 miles. My thermometer bottomed out at 20 below. I bivied again last night at Sullivan Creek when I kept literally falling asleep and falling off my bike. I woke up after three hours and set out to pack up, but it was so, so cold. Everything was frozen solid. My chemical warmers had turned to ice bricks and I couldn't make them go. I crawled back into my bag and waited another couple hours before attempting again. Again, couldn't quite handle the cold. I finally just decided to wait until daylight and stayed in my bag until 10 a.m., but didn't sleep much. I woke up to a 35 mph headwind and single digit temperatures. Ground blizzards were out of this world. Again, glacial pace.

I can't even imagine what that must be like. And here I was thinking I was all cool for having run a marathon!

The show recap will have to wait...

Too much going on today to write it up, the thumb still hurts when I hit the space bar, and I'm tired. Yeah, yeah, excuses excuses. But you do have to admire this sweet photo my brother-in-law Tim took of us...looks like we're beaming down from the Chicken Starship. Which we were...

Getting by on a technicality...

Since I haven't been to bed yet I'm not counting this as missing Friday...I have an excuse, honest. I was playing rocky roll music with the band for the last time. Well, the last time for a while, anyway...More details tomorrow. And some pictures as well.

Big show tomorrow night!

Or tonight, depending on when you read this...this is your last chance ever (well, ok, maybe not "ever", but at least for a while) to see Chicken Starship, the most important rock band in the world. Jack Chicken is moving to Minnesota and the rest of the band is going to "go on hiatus", by which we mean "drink heavily".

Here are the details:

We're back at the L.A.B. at Seattle Drum School, up at 15th NE and 125th in Seattle (the address is 12510 15th Ave NE, and the map is here). Relatively easy access from I-5, and while the show is all-ages, there is a tavern about a half mile north on 15th for those of you who can't watch us without getting your drink on.

Kicking off the evening's entertainment are Dapper Jones, a band we've never played with but sound cool, at least based on their MySpace stuff. Kind of a power-pop-punk thing.

It's an early show - 7:00-ish start for Dapper Jones, 8:30 for Chickens.

It's a cheap show - cover is $5 a head, and the money goes to support the Drum School

There's an after-party - and you're invited. We just can't tell you where it will be, because we haven't figured that out yet.

See you tonight! Or tomorrow night, again depending on when you read this...

Vote Frangles!

Entry #11 Frangles the Cat
Originally uploaded by shayneknitter

I'm Frangles the Cat, and I approve this message.

Hi, everyone. My name is Frangles the Cat. My mom, Paige Chicken, knitted me this sweet outfit and submitted my picture to the Mason-Dixon Knitting web site's "Teeny Project Runway" contest. So help me out...go to Mason-Dixon Knitting and vote for me, #11, Frangles the Cat.

Relapse?

Probably not. But after slowly improving over the last few days my thumb is acting up again tonight. Which really effects the typing, since hitting the space bar hurts.

So instead of anything insightful and long, here's a photo of Logan in his Boy Scout uniform, complete with small stuffed cats:

And....scene!

Well, as I mentioned a few weeks ago, my time as a Cubmaster / Cub Scout Dad / Volunteer has come to an end. Or was coming to an end then...and now it's officially at an end. Tonight was the big night, the combination dessert banquet, volunteer thank-you, Arrow of Light ceremony and cross-over to Boy Scouts. Quite a bit to pack in to, oh, an hour and 15 minutes. But we did, and it's done, and now I can relax. Because Boy Scouts doesn't start until, oh, tomorrow night.

But, they tell me, Boy Scouts is "Scout led". And, they tell me, "we don't give parents jobs for the first few weeks." Great. They're working their hooks in to me already, but I'm definitely going to take a break. No, seriously.

Anyhoo, here are a couple photos:

First up was the ceremonial "crossing of the bridge". The Den made this bridge as a part of their "Engineer" pin...designed by an actual engineer, it even supports my massive, elephantine weight!

Then it was time for Logan to officially meet Mark, his new Scoutmaster, who welcomed him to Troop 123. After that Mark asked him to "introduce his parents." To which he responded by turning around and staring at us, then mumbling something. Amazingly, he's not even a teen-ager yet!

After that awkwardness, he was given his new neckerchief by the Senior Patrol Leader, whose name I've forgotten and wouldn't mention anyway because of privacy issues (hence all the blurring of faces earlier). We'll call him Rasputin. That Rasputin can put on a mean neckerchief, I must say.

Oh, and that arrow Logan's holding in his left hand? Yeah...that's basically what I did today instead of going to work: created two slide shows on the computer and painted stripes on two arrows. If you need an arrow-painting jig let me know, 'cause I've got one.

Save the sandwich!

So as you no doubt know, Starbucks is phasing out their delicious breakfast sandwiches. And I must say, that's just sad. Not that I eat them every day, but there are those occasions when you want something greasy, cheesy, and with a nice spicy bit of sausage in the middle. Or ham or bacon, for that matter. Anyhow, the point is that when that mood strikes I'd much rather go to the Starbucks in my building than have to go out in the world and find either a deli that sells something similar or, perish the thought, a McDonalds Eggamuffin.

Which is why I was so happy to find this site where I can mouth off about the wonders of the "Classic Sausage Egg and Cheese". Won't do any good, but what the hell.

Anyone have, oh, 36 hours to spare?

I am wicked behind on too many projects for Tuesday's big Cub Scout meeting...stuff to paint, slide shows to make, songs to pick, scripts to revise, yeesh! Hence this nicely short blurb, and a shout-out to Diablo Cody for not only writing the best original screenplay of 2007, but also for best name and best tattoo at the Oscars. One of these days I might even see her movie!

So about what I said yesterday...

Today was, well, not quite the same. It was sunny and gorgeous, yes. And I went skiing, yes. So far so good. But that's where the similarity ends.

The difference starts with the snow. Today we were at Summit Central up at Snoqualmie Pass, and it was a weird mix of ice and slush. When we got there at 9-ish it was all ice, all the time. The groomed runs were big frozen washboards. Great for a foot massage, but that's about it.

The next difference was the temperature. While yesterday was warm at times, I never had to adjust any layering. Not so today...after the first run it was back to the car to drop the chamois shirt.

Which brings me to difference number 3: Yesterday I didn't lock the keys in the car, today I did. Lucky for me, the security guys at the Summit are experts at unlocking cars.

The final difference is that yesterday my legs were sore, but that was the worst of it. Today my legs are sore, true, but so is my hand. Why? Because I had a nice face-plant on the third or fourth run of the day and manage to sprain my right thumb. Like to the point where I thought I might have partially dislocated it. So that pretty much ended my day at 11 AM, and let me deal with getting the car unlocked while Dave got to continue skiing. The punk.

What's that old saying?

"A bad day fishing beats a good day at work?" Something like that. Anyhow, I would posit that a good day skiing beats pretty much any day at work, except maybe the day at work when they tell you to leave work and go skiing. Or give you a gabilliion dollars.

So today was day 1 of the Heuga Center's "Vertical Express for MS" ski event thingy at Crystal Mountain. It didn't suck at all.

Back in High School I skied at Crystal 'cause that's where the bus the school chartered went. As I recall, it was better than Snoqualmie Summit, but it was also a lot harder. And I got stuck at the top of more runs I wasn't able to ski.

That was in, like, 1983. Haven't been back until today. And I must say, it's definitely better than the Summit. Maybe not better enough to get me to spring the extra $400 or whatever it is for a season pass up there (that 2 hour drive isn't much fun), but definitely enough to think seriously about renting a condo or room up there for a few days next year.

So anyway, on to the event itself. It's a three-day thing, and unfortunately Dave and I were only able to go today. Which, it turns out, wasn't a bad thing. First, we didn't have to go to work. Second, as you can see from the photo at the top, it was sunny - at least in the morning. And even when it clouded up, it was still bitchin, as shown in this shot of Dave standing in front of some valley leading over to where Mt. Rainier would be if there weren't clouds.

And thirdly, since it was Friday, there were very few people there. I think the longest we stood in line was maybe a minute, and we never had that "I'm going to be steamrolled by a mob of snowboarders" feeling that you get at the Summit. In fact, it looked a lot like this most of the day:

And best of all, we raised a bunch of money for a good cause. And second-best of all, since Dave and I can't go tomorrow due to ski school up at the Summit, Dave's wife and daughter get to use our passes and be honorary one-day members of the mighty Team Minkey Boodle!

For the record...

I posted the "Breaking News from 7200 BC" before Taranto threw it up on Best of the Web, although I will admit that the whole "breaking news from..." headline is his. Probably should have prefaced my post with "shameless idea theft", but I didn't. So sue me.

We like da moon...

'cause it is close to us. And sometimes gets eclipsed by the Earth and looks super cool. Tonight's eclipse was a great opportunity to get the kids outside looking up, and to bust out the tripod for the camera:

This one's kind of fuzzy as it was the first I took, and had the longest exposure. According to the photo properties it was a 20 second exposure at f/4.8. And I don't think I bumped it, I think the streaking is from the long exposure.

This shot is much closer to totality. Only went with an 8 second exposure on this one and it popped the iris out to f/5.6.

Now we're starting to see the moon come out of the umbra, kind of mimicking the "diamond ring" effect you see with solar eclipses. We're now shooting 5 seconds at f/6.3

This one was taken shortly after the previous, but now I'm zoomed out so you can see Saturn down to the left of the moon. We popped that up on the telescope and the kids were able to see the rings, but since I don't have an adapter for the camera this is the best you get. Once again a 5 second exposure, this time at f/4.0 (the camera was choosing the f-stop...)

And then the clouds rolled in. We had pretty darn perfect weather for the eclipse, and at the end the clouds streamed in from the south, whispy and white, slowly covering the moon as she came out of the shadow. 6 seconds this time, again at f/4.0

Breaking news from 7200 BC

Headline from today's Seattle Times:

"Kennewick man kills neighbor's 2 pit bulls"

(Kennewick Man, in case you didn't know, is a fossilized human about 9200 years old)

Sunday pondering

Meant to post this on Sunday but I got all distracted...

So Sunday's "Parade Magazine" was the annual "who's the biggest dictator" issue and I have to wonder...do these guys check this stuff on line? Is North Korea's Kim Jong Il totally psyched that he made it to #1 and knocked off that bastard Omar Al-Bashir from Sudan?

And, in light of today's announcement, do you think that Fidel Castro finally gave up the fatigues because he didn't even make the top 20 this year?

Personally, I like to think that they all sit around the Dictators Club in Zimbabwe (home of #6 Robert Mugabe who moved up one slot this year), smoke their cigars and razz each other about their standings before going in to dinner and discussing new ways to oppress the masses.

What kind of directions are these?

So I'm reading a story about the new Habitat for Humanity Home Improvement store in south Seattle, and I'm thinking "Gee, I don't recognize that address. Wonder where it is?" And then I see the link for "directions". I click on it and, for some reason, start reading the "From South" set:

From South: Head North on I-5, take Tukwila Exit to WA-599. Highway 599 will connect into Highway 99. Take Highway 99 towards East Marginal Way . Take left onto East Marginal Way. Turn left onto Idaho Street use left hand turn lane. Turn right onto unmarked street before the Fiberlay building. Follow road and turn left on S Nevada Street

Is it just me, or does that sound like either the directions to a speakeasy or a street fight? "Turn right onto unmarked street"? WTF?

Crap!

Here I was going gangbusters, remembering to post every day, and then we have a holiday Monday and I blow it. Damn!

Anyhow, here's what I WOULD have posted yesterday if I could have...

Wish I were here...we were supposed to go up to Mt. Baker and go skiing today, but Paige got sick so we stayed home. Luckily, thanks to camera phones, I can now see what I was missing...CRAP!

Two week warning...

Just wanted to give you a two-week warning for our big Pre-Reunion show...yes, two weeks from tonight is your last chance ever (well, ok, maybe not "ever", but at least for a while) to see Chicken Starship, the most important rock band in the world. Why, you ask? Because Jack Chicken is moving to Minnesota to be closer to Target and the rest of the band is going to "go on hiatus". At least until we can sign an aspiring lead vocalist to an exclusive contract...

Here are the details:

• We're back at the L.A.B. at Seattle Drum School, up at 15th NE and 125th in Seattle (the address is 12510 15th Ave NE, and the map is here). Relatively easy access from I-5, and while the show is all-ages, there is a tavern about a half mile north on 15th for those of you who can't watch us without getting your drink on.
• Kicking off the evening's entertainment are Dapper Jones, a band we've never played with but sound cool, at least based on their MySpace stuff. Kind of a power-pop-punk thing.
• It's an early show - 7:00-ish start - and it's a Friday night, so get off work early, come on out, and give Jack Chicken the all-ages sendoff he so richly deserves!

Click here to put our songs on your Facebook profile.

Ugh...

So here it is, Saturday night of the big President's Day weekend, and I'm bushed. Got up early (well, late for a work day but early for Saturday), took the boy up to ski lessons, skied for about 5 or 6 hours, and completely toasted my legs. I am, as they say, wicked out of shape. Then we had band practice tonight getting ready for the big pre-reunion show on the 29th (at the L.A.B. at Seattle Drum School...more info on the band MySpace page). So now I'm beat.

Oh, and it doesn't help that Mrs. Chicken is down with the crud, fighting a sore throat and a fever. I'm guessing we're not going up to Bellingham as planned tomorrow night...just guessing...

More shameless idea theft

This time stealing from John "Monkey Disaster" Moe, I bring you the resurrection of the Family Herman project.

As some history, back in our carefree college days, when John and I would read the Spokesman Review over coffee, we'd do the swap with Family Circus and The Far Side. But since the Far Side isn't in the paper any more, now you gots to swap in Herman. Assuming you read the Seattle Times, which I don't (I'm a lifelong PI guy and still peeved that they killed The Phantom).

Anyhoo, the concept is this: You swap the captions between the two strips and see what comes out. And today we've got this:



It appears, to me anyway, that Daddy or Mommy is trying to scrape snow off the car, and Billy is finding a great deal of enjoyment in the fact that they're using the wrong scraper. Maybe the right scraper is lost and they're stuck with a credit card...we just don't know.

Herman, meanwhile, apparently requires a snow shovel to remove the tartar from his teeth. We can only assume that the dentist likes this kind of bad weather because it gives him an excuse for having the snow shovel in the office...people would ask embarrassing questions if he whipped that sucker out in July.

Happy VD!

I'm not cool enough to have a sweet graphic like Tina has up today. Heck, I'm not even cool enough to do the traditional Scott Chicken protestation of love to Mrs. Chicken, the free Stranger love ad. Usually I'll submit one, then lead Paige through the pages of the paper with a trail of sticky notes, pointing out all the freakish ones (well, some of them...if I did all of them the pen would run dry) before leading her to my lame one.

This year I was even lamer than that, and completely forgot to get it in on time. So instead I had to use the Stranger's "Lovebot". It's not too late to send your own.

Unless, of course, it is, in which case you're on your own.

Help me help the Heuga Center fight MS!

I've been raising money for the MS cause for years now, initially because I was looking for an excuse to go on a cool bike ride, and then because more and more people I knew were being diagnosed - from my sister to a friend's sister to another friend's wife to, well, lots of people. I took a break from the MS cause in 2006 when I ran the Portland Marathon (and thanks to those who supported me with that cause), but this year I'm back to MS, but with a twist: This year I'm leaving the bike in the shed and strapping on the skis instead.

I'm teaming up with a couple friends to participate in the Heuga Center's Vertical Express for MS, a series of "on-snow events" (mainly skiing, although I think there's some other stuff in there too) at Crystal Mountain in two weeks - February 22nd through 24th. And with just a week to go I'm still a few hundred dollars short of my goal and I'm hoping you can help push me over the edge by following this link here and pledging money on the secure donations page. Seriously, it's that easy.

Thanks for your support!

My latest album

So, been working hard in the studio with the new band, Priscilla Studd, and we're just going to press on our new album* "Else Has Seen You". I'm really happy with the album art, especially the drippy font that gets to the heart of the Priscilla Studd sound. That and the photo of the 80s new wave-looking dude...



*In case you've forgotten the album cover rules, they're here...

Book suggestions?

Just figured I'd put this out there on the off chance anyone reads this crap...so young Logan Chicken is doing a "reading wheel" in class where he's supposed to read books from different genres and write reports on them. So he's done humor (Captain Underpants), he's done SciFi (Restaurant at the End of the Universe), he's done myths and legends (a book of NW Native American fables), and he's working on fantasy (The Book of Three). But he needs others. Other categories are historical fiction, classics, biographies, and a bunch of others I don't remember.

So...any suggestions for a 10-year-old who isn't really in to fiction? One of the biggest hurdles for him is getting past the first "boring" chapter or two, so if it's something that just jumps right in that would be good...

Yet another thing I don't know

And that would be "what the hell is that?" No, not whatever they were talking about in that old SNL sketch that really should be on YouTube but if it is, I can't find it. No, I mean what the hell is this thing?

And then there was one...

One more event as Cubmaster, that is.

Today was the big Pack Pinewood Derby, 3 hours of boys racing cars down a wood track broken up only by a few befuddled senior citizens looking for the Republican Caucus. We offered to let them stay and watch and maybe vote on which car looked the coolest, but they all declined. Probably their loss...they looked like Huckabee supporters. Although they might have leaned toward McCain. Definitely not Ron Paul, who not surprisingly finished 3rd in the Washington caucus (while on the Democrat side of the aisle Obama walked away with like 65% of the delegates...Tina must be ecstatic).

But back to the Cub Scout stuff. Four years ago, when Logan was in 2nd grade, I kind of pushed him in to the Cubs. I'd had fun in Scouts, his friends were in the Den, and so I gave him a nudge. And agreed to be the Den Leader because, well, no one else was really jumping up and down wanting the job and I knew Logan would be more likely to stay in it if I was involved beyond the "parent" role.

The next year I passed the Den off on another guy and moved in to the "Pack Committee Chair" role. This was much better since a) I didn't have to plan two Den meetings a month, b) I didn't have to deal with a bunch of rowdy 8-year-olds whose favorite game was "Kill John", and c) I could handle almost the entire job via e-mail. Man I loves me the e-mail. That gig lasted for about two and a half years, and then last February I was basically thrust in to the spotlight as Cubmaster.

And in retrospect it hasn't been that bad. Yes, I had to deal with the kids again, and a lot more of them than at the Den level, but it was only once a month and I had a lot of help since if they started acting up I could lean on their Den leaders to get them back in line. I still had to plan meetings and stuff, but one meeting a month is way easier than two, especially when you're expected to actually get stuff done during the two Den meetings. The Pack meeting is more of a party.

Which brings me back to "and then there was one..." Just one more meeting, at the end of the month. And it is most definitely a party. There will be desserts. There may be cookie decorating. There will be pins, ribbons and trophies awarded. And Logan and 3 of his Den-mates will receive the Arrow of Light (Cub Scouting's equivalent of the Eagle) and "cross over" in to a Boy Scout troop. Where hopefully he'll have more fun, learn more stuff, and not need me to run the whole show!

Caucus Schmaucus

I know, I know, it's my duty as a good citizen of these United States to vote. Or, in this case, to caucus. And I would, honest, if a) I didn't have other plans, and b) I gave a damn. But I do, and I don't.

The other plans are the all-important Cub Scout Pinewood Derby, Logan's final Derby since he moves on to Boy Scouts at the end of the month. And I feel pretty confident saying that his streak of non-victory will be unblemished since I just can't make a fast car. They look kind of cool, or funny, or whatever, but they just ain't fast.

The not giving a damn isn't as insidious as it sounds...at least not to me. Back in 2004 I caucused for the first time because I was actually inspired. Or, if not actually inspired, maybe just more interested than previously. Anyhow, back then (on the off chance you don't remember 2004), there were 4 candidates still in the running come Washington's turn in the spotlight: Kerry was the front-runner, Dean was still hanging on, Edwards was a strong second, and Kucinich was, well, Kucinich. I was an Edwards man at the time, for two key reasons: First, I liked what he had to say on pretty much all the issues; and second, I had a gut feeling that there was no way in hell the American people would hire a guy who looked like Herman Munster or Lurch and was as condescending as hell to be their President, and it was really important to nominate a candidate that would actually stand a chance of swaying the electorate and convince them to shift the political course mid-war.

So I went to the caucus. The few remaining Deaniacs were fairly easily swayed, but most of them went to the Kerry party. The Kucinich people were definitely a harder nut to crack. There weren't enough to warrant a delegate to the district convention, but we were able to sway a few of them over to the Edwards camp, enough to land us a second delegate spot. Horay for us, we did our caucus job, and Democracy was saved. Or something.

Anyhow, we all know how 2004 turned out...Edwards accepted the VP slot (a huge mistake, in my opinion), and in spite of their self-proclaimed great hair, they lost the general election to GW because a) people didn't want to change horses mid-stream, and b) Kerry continued to look like Lurch and be condescending as hell.

So now we're here in 2008 and I'm not nearly as moved as I was then. It looks like the Republicans are gathering around McCain, and he's not quite as scary as GW. And the Democrats have two strong candidates, either of whom I feel confident can win in November. And while I've heard them both speak, neither of them really moves me quite the way Obama moves Tina or the way Hillary moves whoever it is Hillary moves (white women of a certain age, perhaps? I'm not exactly sure).

So that's why, instead of being at the school fighting for who I think should be the nominee, I'll be across the street watching 7 - 10-year-old boys squeal with glee as their little wooden cars zoom down 40 feet of wooden race track. Whee!!!

Fast and Easy Ordering from Your Mobile Phon

So I get this e-mail from Pizza Hut today (see the screen shot below), touting how fast and easy it is to order a pizza with my mobile phone. And I think to my self, what a wonderful world. No, wait...I think to myself "um...isn't it fast and easy to just call the number I've stored in my phone and tell them what I want?" Apparently not. Apparently it's easier to text message my order in, or use the mobile web.

Who knew?

From the "things I'll never do" file

The latest item on the list: make a functional bicycle out of wood. Like completely out of wood. Well, with the exception of glue, but the glue no doubt had "wood" in its name. The point being, no metal pieces.

No mention in the article about how it rides, but it definitely looks sweet!

More Gondry

Since the Chicken household has a thing for Legos and Lego stop-motion animation, I bring you this...far better than anything we'd ever make!

"Harvesting brains"

Sounds like something a Zombie farmer would do (a farmer who is a zombie, not a farmer who raises zombies...they'd just harvest the zombies). But apparently it's not, and it's leading to some weird new disease. All of which makes me really, really glad I work at a cushy desk job.

Mementos of the past

So John Moe, author of the fine Monkeydisaster blog, is moving to Minnesota to pursue his lifelong dream of living near the Mall of America. As a result, John has sold his house and is now in the process of packing to move, which involves much purging of years and years of crap. As outlined in this post right here.

Well, as a genetic pack rat, and one who hasn't moved farther than 15 miles since coming home from college (which was a whopping 350 miles or so), I haven't done the purging thing, much to my wife's chagrin. So it is that, on a bookshelf in the basement, in addition to some weird drum stick with a rubber dohickey on it that I've had since I was like 17, I have two autographed baseballs.

The ball on the right is an authentic player ball, autographed by legendary Mariner's outfielder Greg "Pee Wee" Briley. This was a gift from Steve Chicken many years ago ('93 or '94, I think), signed at spring training and given to the wife because she was a huge Pee Wee fan (both Briley and Herman).



The ball on the right was signed by Darryl Tarbox, John's character in the play Tent Meeting. John and I (and fellow classmate Erika Rolfsrud) did Tent Meeting as our senior project back in the glory days of college. It was the closest I ever came to being an evangelical preacher, and I was told I was frighteningly realistic. Probably good that I didn't take it up as a profession, or I'd probably have turned out like Ted Haggard. Only with a female prostitute, because I prefer them with my meth.

Anyhow, um, what was I saying? Oh, yeah. I kept the ball. Mostly because it's a good conversation piece, but also because it's a reminder of a great time in my life, working with two actors who so vastly outclassed me that they pulled me up. Maybe not to their level, but definitely above where I would have been otherwise.

I didn't save any photos of the show, but fortunately someone else did. So now I've got more photographic evidence that I did indeed at one time have hair:



Me as Reverend Eddie, no doubt trying to drive the devil out of my son Darryl (John)



Erika as Beckie Ann, devoted daughter and mother of our savior the eggplant (eggplant not pictured)

More video fun

So in addition to being followed around by his poop, filmmaker Michel Gondry is also a wizard at the Rubik's Cube:

Hmm...

Not sure what to make of this. I mean, it's funny and all, but disturbing at the same time. Still, it's hard to beat David Cross...

Wow.

That's all I can say. And not just because it's almost midnight and I might pull off a Galivanting Monkey (a term I'm coining for Tina's plan to post twice in a row just around midnight, thereby killing two days' postings with one stone, if by "stone" you mean "blogging session", if "blogging session" is even what you call this).

Anyhow, the reason for my "Wow" is the latest post on Jason's Blue Moon MySpace Blog. If you don't know Jason, he's the guy who books bands (like, oh, Chicken Starship, the most important rock band in the world) to play at the Blue Moon, possibly the most important dive bar in Seattle. And if you've never read his blog you should.

But you should REALLY read this particular entry, because it's timely, it's not about music (well, not about music performed at the Blue Moon), and the videos are just atrocious. Seriously. I think I could have happily gone through the rest of my life without ever seeing the LA Rams do "Let's Ram It". Or the lilly white folk of Boston singing "New England, the Patriots and You". And possibly worst of all, the Seahawks' own "hit", "The Blue Wave" (or maybe "The Blue Wave Will Be Rockin'". Sing it, Mike Tice! (Side note: Mike Tice was the guest speaker at my Eagle Scout court of honor. I remember nothing that he said, but damn that dude was big...).

Thanks a lot, Denmark!

What did I ever do to you? Whatever it was, I don't think it warranted the invention of furniture you assemble yourself, or all those pegs and weird bolt/toggle things. And don't get me started on the drawers...

That said, Maya loves her new bed, and it's no doubt way cheaper than if we'd bought something pre-assembled. And it was far easier than if I'd done it the hard way, with hours and hours of work trying to mimic Norm Abrahm. But at least with that plan I would have been able to justify buying some new tools...