I missed it by one day. The day before his birthday, though, we went out to the cut in Auburn, hiking and fishing. We walked for maybe 10 miles, avoided poison oak, and enjoyed the afternoon.
Later on in the day we went to a Sacramento River Cats game and saw a Triple-A baseball game on the river in Downtown Sac. Baseball's not one of Norm's things, but I was able to show him some of the reasons why people become fans. The game ended on a walk-off two-run homer in the 9th.
Happy Birthday, brother!
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Trip to Sacramento...
Posting's light for the next few days, and has been light for the past ten or so, as I work with my brother Dan on his wedding stuff.
Their day is coming up on Sunday.
Their day is coming up on Sunday.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Jim Henson and the Loss of Complexity in Entertainment
In today's movie houses across America we can see the direction that the major film making institutions are heading, and from where they came. The current biggies are The Avengers and Battleship, huge budgeted action flicks, the heart of the summer blockbuster season.
The Avengers is, from what I've read, breezy and entertaining, for being a nearly two-and-a-half-hour movie about comic book superheroes. Populated by these super-powered and super-regular folks, a team of good-guys battles a bad-guy, or team of bad-guys, I'm not sure. I enjoyed the Iron Man movies and Thor, but haven't scene Capn' or the Hulk. Good-guys versus bad-guys, even while the teammates "battle" themselves, I hear anyway.
Battleship is about invading aliens and Earth's last stand, or defensive battle. While it's based on a board game that itself was based on a pencil and paper game that predates WWI, it seems to be original, as far as it's relation to the source material may be concerned. Originality is something that I go on and on about, especially when it comes to the film industry.
It seems like currently most major films are either sequels or based on some other well known source. In The Avengers you get a super-duper sequel that's also based on a well known source. Battleship is the next best thing: pure spectacle. Bonus points for being based on a game most folks 25 years old or older could recognize.
The things these types of movies have in common is that they're safe--safe in regards to their appeal for investors. The growing complexity in the special effects of these types of films make them increasingly expensive propositions.
Maybe the thirst for a more complex film is waning...
Super-heroes vs super-villains. Aliens invading. Summing up two of the major films in just a handful of words.
In 1990 the world lost a preeminent artist, a character himself that was able to touch so many and get them thinking. His technological innovations were always leading the pack, but his special effects were mostly limited what's known as in-camera applications--effects achieved in the real world captured on film, not added in post-production. I'm, of course, talking about Jim Henson, famed puppeteer and entertainer.
Puppetry is an art form that, on the whole in mainstream America, may be on the wane, overall. They did just make a new Muppet movie, and Sesame Street is still entertaining and teaching young people, but at the height of puppetry's mainstream popularity, the Muppets television show was a smart cutting edge comedy, various Muppet characters made appearances on late-night talk shows, an animated show was airing, and two separate children's shows were on television, one on Public Broadcasting, the other on HBO.
When Children's Television Workshop decided to hand over the reigns of their morning program, Sesame Street, to Jim Henson, the wider PBS having world was introduced to his brand of engaging topics and means of communicating those topics. In one early episode of Sesame Street Bert and Ernie are putzing around their house, and Ernie stops what he's doing, looks right into the camera, and calls Bert to come over, that they have a special guest. Bert joins him and both he and Ernie welcome "you" into their home, the proverbial fourth-wall breaking acknowledgement of the home audience. Meanwhile at home kids are looking around their living rooms as it say "me?", and a whole generation of kids are instantly connected and hooked.
Jim Henson's films and television show projects were filled with difficult concepts to wrap heads around, but not impossible concepts, and he would routinely challenge children and adults alike. He would extend the benefit of the doubt that his audience could get it in a way that would be far too daring to get major financial backing for today.
Let's for a moment take a look at Henson's best known commercial flop, Dark Crystal. Cries of it was too dark or too adult are the most lobbed of the criticisms, but technologically it was as advanced as anything ever made up until then. But Henson knew that the technology was only as important as it was helpful to the story.
I don't remember seeing the movie as a child, and watched it for the first time only a few years ago. I was taken aback by the deep complexity that the ultimate, overarching story. A large crystal has split and two types of beings have emerged: the tyrannical vulture-like Skeksis and the mystical hunchbacks urRu. They seem to be at odds with one another, but near the climax of the film, when during a battle a Skeksis is killed, an urRu disappears. In fact, for each Skeksis done in, a corresponding urRu dies.
See kiddies, the good-guys and the bad-guys are really the same thing, separated only by a cracked crystal. In the end, when the crystal is fixed and the shard is replaced, the Skeksis and the urRu are reconnected into their apparent original state, UrSkeks. The lesson for the children (and adults): only with proper perspective on wealth and money can a person's two halves be in balance.
How about the messages from one of Jim Henson's kid's shows that was rather beloved and not considered a flop, Fraggle Rock. This is a program I do remember watching, which is strange, because it aired on HBO and I don't remember us having that channel, but it could have been on PBS in a later round of airing.
The Fraggles are the main characters, about 18 inches tall, living in a cave system that has connecting entrance/exits to two different worlds. One is the workshop of the human, a white haired old man and his dog Sprocket, while the other is the world of the Gorgs, three very large beasts that are always after the Fraggles and exhibit signs of being a classic dysfunctional family. They keep a trash-heap, which acts as the Fraggles oracle. Inside Fraggle Rock, their cave system, they share space with the Doozers, tiny builders who are constantly building structures out of a material they synthesize from the radishes that the Fraggles eat. This makes their building material candy for the Fraggles, who tend to eat large portions of the construction.
One of the very best features of the show is that when extraordinary things happen the Fraggles have explanations for them that they convince themselves are the case, which are known by the viewer to be wrong. The Fraggles make a decision to act based on these wrong conclusions, and the outcome turns out beneficial for them--just like they'd hoped--but almost despite their actions, or for reasons that have nothing to do with their actions.
Children watching this get a lesson in the complexity of the world's machinations and about how being wrong can have all sorts of effects; good, bad, unintended, and even unrelated. Kids exposed to these subjects are suddenly able to be trusted intellectually with deeper storylines, like about prejudice and spirituality. That's just what Jim Henson and his producers did.
Here's a quick recap of one of the stories, about symbiosis. The tall activist Fraggle, Mokey, after watching the Fraggles regularly eating the Doozer structures, believes that the Fraggles are being harmful to the Doozers. She starts a campaign to get the Fraggles to stop eating the candy-structure, which is successful. Without the constant eating of the building material, the Doozers start to fill up the entire cave system, making it impossible for the both the Fraggles and Doozers to literally do anything. Their entire system of life is at risk, because Mokey thought she was doing the right thing.
Realizing that the Doozers and Fraggles need each other, she convinces everyone to forget what she convinced them of earlier, and order is eventually restored.
Are the aliens from Battleship here to teach us about how we need to better understand our symbiotic relationships with the environment? I'm not sure, but from the look of the ads, they're trying to kill everyone and take over (jokes on them!). Same thing with Loki, and whatever big-ass critter is visible Godzilla-ing Manhattan in the commercials.
I guess if a movie like last year's The Artist can win the Oscar for Best Film, their may be hope for the eventual return of serious complexity in projects of all kinds. Maybe I'm a cynic. Movies like Cool Hand Luke and Bullet and French Connection just don't get made anymore, and as a populace we're worse off because of it.
This is just part of the growing trend of dumbing everything down and not expecting your audiences to think, or even be capable of it. It doesn't bode well that our masses aren't being challenged.
Super-heroes vs super-villains. Aliens invading. Summing up two of the major films in just a handful of words.
In 1990 the world lost a preeminent artist, a character himself that was able to touch so many and get them thinking. His technological innovations were always leading the pack, but his special effects were mostly limited what's known as in-camera applications--effects achieved in the real world captured on film, not added in post-production. I'm, of course, talking about Jim Henson, famed puppeteer and entertainer.
Puppetry is an art form that, on the whole in mainstream America, may be on the wane, overall. They did just make a new Muppet movie, and Sesame Street is still entertaining and teaching young people, but at the height of puppetry's mainstream popularity, the Muppets television show was a smart cutting edge comedy, various Muppet characters made appearances on late-night talk shows, an animated show was airing, and two separate children's shows were on television, one on Public Broadcasting, the other on HBO.
When Children's Television Workshop decided to hand over the reigns of their morning program, Sesame Street, to Jim Henson, the wider PBS having world was introduced to his brand of engaging topics and means of communicating those topics. In one early episode of Sesame Street Bert and Ernie are putzing around their house, and Ernie stops what he's doing, looks right into the camera, and calls Bert to come over, that they have a special guest. Bert joins him and both he and Ernie welcome "you" into their home, the proverbial fourth-wall breaking acknowledgement of the home audience. Meanwhile at home kids are looking around their living rooms as it say "me?", and a whole generation of kids are instantly connected and hooked.
Jim Henson's films and television show projects were filled with difficult concepts to wrap heads around, but not impossible concepts, and he would routinely challenge children and adults alike. He would extend the benefit of the doubt that his audience could get it in a way that would be far too daring to get major financial backing for today.
Let's for a moment take a look at Henson's best known commercial flop, Dark Crystal. Cries of it was too dark or too adult are the most lobbed of the criticisms, but technologically it was as advanced as anything ever made up until then. But Henson knew that the technology was only as important as it was helpful to the story.
I don't remember seeing the movie as a child, and watched it for the first time only a few years ago. I was taken aback by the deep complexity that the ultimate, overarching story. A large crystal has split and two types of beings have emerged: the tyrannical vulture-like Skeksis and the mystical hunchbacks urRu. They seem to be at odds with one another, but near the climax of the film, when during a battle a Skeksis is killed, an urRu disappears. In fact, for each Skeksis done in, a corresponding urRu dies.
See kiddies, the good-guys and the bad-guys are really the same thing, separated only by a cracked crystal. In the end, when the crystal is fixed and the shard is replaced, the Skeksis and the urRu are reconnected into their apparent original state, UrSkeks. The lesson for the children (and adults): only with proper perspective on wealth and money can a person's two halves be in balance.
How about the messages from one of Jim Henson's kid's shows that was rather beloved and not considered a flop, Fraggle Rock. This is a program I do remember watching, which is strange, because it aired on HBO and I don't remember us having that channel, but it could have been on PBS in a later round of airing.
The Fraggles are the main characters, about 18 inches tall, living in a cave system that has connecting entrance/exits to two different worlds. One is the workshop of the human, a white haired old man and his dog Sprocket, while the other is the world of the Gorgs, three very large beasts that are always after the Fraggles and exhibit signs of being a classic dysfunctional family. They keep a trash-heap, which acts as the Fraggles oracle. Inside Fraggle Rock, their cave system, they share space with the Doozers, tiny builders who are constantly building structures out of a material they synthesize from the radishes that the Fraggles eat. This makes their building material candy for the Fraggles, who tend to eat large portions of the construction.
One of the very best features of the show is that when extraordinary things happen the Fraggles have explanations for them that they convince themselves are the case, which are known by the viewer to be wrong. The Fraggles make a decision to act based on these wrong conclusions, and the outcome turns out beneficial for them--just like they'd hoped--but almost despite their actions, or for reasons that have nothing to do with their actions.
Children watching this get a lesson in the complexity of the world's machinations and about how being wrong can have all sorts of effects; good, bad, unintended, and even unrelated. Kids exposed to these subjects are suddenly able to be trusted intellectually with deeper storylines, like about prejudice and spirituality. That's just what Jim Henson and his producers did.
Here's a quick recap of one of the stories, about symbiosis. The tall activist Fraggle, Mokey, after watching the Fraggles regularly eating the Doozer structures, believes that the Fraggles are being harmful to the Doozers. She starts a campaign to get the Fraggles to stop eating the candy-structure, which is successful. Without the constant eating of the building material, the Doozers start to fill up the entire cave system, making it impossible for the both the Fraggles and Doozers to literally do anything. Their entire system of life is at risk, because Mokey thought she was doing the right thing.
Realizing that the Doozers and Fraggles need each other, she convinces everyone to forget what she convinced them of earlier, and order is eventually restored.
Are the aliens from Battleship here to teach us about how we need to better understand our symbiotic relationships with the environment? I'm not sure, but from the look of the ads, they're trying to kill everyone and take over (jokes on them!). Same thing with Loki, and whatever big-ass critter is visible Godzilla-ing Manhattan in the commercials.
I guess if a movie like last year's The Artist can win the Oscar for Best Film, their may be hope for the eventual return of serious complexity in projects of all kinds. Maybe I'm a cynic. Movies like Cool Hand Luke and Bullet and French Connection just don't get made anymore, and as a populace we're worse off because of it.
This is just part of the growing trend of dumbing everything down and not expecting your audiences to think, or even be capable of it. It doesn't bode well that our masses aren't being challenged.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Annular Eclipse: Old Reliable to the Rescue
May 20th, 2012 is my brother's 22nd birthday, "or at least that's what we're telling people", but it's also the day of an annular eclipse, visible to the western states of America, as well as to many fine folks in Asia.
The annular eclipse is also known as the "ring of fire" eclipse, and occurs when the moon is farther away from the planet than under the conditions of a "total" eclipse. In the annular eclipse, the moon appears smaller than the sun, leading to, when the moon is directly between the sun and the earth, a ring of sun still visible.
This happened today, and while you had to be in Redding, California to see the full of "ring of fire", the effects were able to be witnessed in some form or another down here in Long Beach. With just a portion of the sun was covered, the daylight seemed a tiny bit dimmer, but actually looking at the sun was like normal--and not recommended.
I tried a pinprick paper, to test the shape of the sun on another piece, with mixed results. Then I remembered something that could help in this exact situation:
This is a picture I had in a post about the beginning of the year for the ancients. It is a picture of the pier at dusk in Avila Bay. The setting sun is visible as a black dot, as the old-school sensor for my old Digitrex camera was easily overwhelmed by the direct rays from the sun. Ah, that Digitrex. I've mentioned it before about vignetting and again about rediscovering it.
That limitation might be able to be of some service, I realized with time running out and the moon soon to be out of the sun's way. In the above picture we can see the circle blocked by the mountain, so, if anything, the moon might block some of the rays of the sun, and give us a document of this annular eclipse, something our eyes can't do.
So, looking away, I, for the first time ever, purposely pointed a digital camera directly at the sun, and hoped for the best. Here's what we got:
I'm willing to call that a success. The moon can be seen making a curved crescent of the all-black sun. Pretty cool.
This next picture is from our back balcony, and a slight movement as the shutter fired gives a cool curvy look to normally straight structures.
Thank you, Old Reliable. 15K pictures and still helping out in ways we're still learning about.
The annular eclipse is also known as the "ring of fire" eclipse, and occurs when the moon is farther away from the planet than under the conditions of a "total" eclipse. In the annular eclipse, the moon appears smaller than the sun, leading to, when the moon is directly between the sun and the earth, a ring of sun still visible.
This happened today, and while you had to be in Redding, California to see the full of "ring of fire", the effects were able to be witnessed in some form or another down here in Long Beach. With just a portion of the sun was covered, the daylight seemed a tiny bit dimmer, but actually looking at the sun was like normal--and not recommended.
I tried a pinprick paper, to test the shape of the sun on another piece, with mixed results. Then I remembered something that could help in this exact situation:
This is a picture I had in a post about the beginning of the year for the ancients. It is a picture of the pier at dusk in Avila Bay. The setting sun is visible as a black dot, as the old-school sensor for my old Digitrex camera was easily overwhelmed by the direct rays from the sun. Ah, that Digitrex. I've mentioned it before about vignetting and again about rediscovering it.
That limitation might be able to be of some service, I realized with time running out and the moon soon to be out of the sun's way. In the above picture we can see the circle blocked by the mountain, so, if anything, the moon might block some of the rays of the sun, and give us a document of this annular eclipse, something our eyes can't do.
So, looking away, I, for the first time ever, purposely pointed a digital camera directly at the sun, and hoped for the best. Here's what we got:
I'm willing to call that a success. The moon can be seen making a curved crescent of the all-black sun. Pretty cool.
This next picture is from our back balcony, and a slight movement as the shutter fired gives a cool curvy look to normally straight structures.
Thank you, Old Reliable. 15K pictures and still helping out in ways we're still learning about.
Happy Birthday Dan!
So, today my brother celebrates his birthday, and I say with warm regard, Happy Birthday Dan!
Love you, man.
Also, this is the first fourth edition of a recurring blog post, as in, the "Happy Birthday Dan!" post is the first to be seen four times. As a blast to the past, you can check out the first in 2009, the second in 2010, or the third from last year.
Also, exciting news for Dan, his wedding is in two weeks exactly.
Have a great relaxing day brother!
Love you, man.
Also, this is the first fourth edition of a recurring blog post, as in, the "Happy Birthday Dan!" post is the first to be seen four times. As a blast to the past, you can check out the first in 2009, the second in 2010, or the third from last year.
Also, exciting news for Dan, his wedding is in two weeks exactly.
Have a great relaxing day brother!
(With Chris)
Friday, May 18, 2012
Definitely a French Film
There had been a movie I wanted to see (ie drag Corrie to) at whatever indie theater might show it down here, but I was busy and forgot and time passed. I did, though, find it on streaming Netflix, and Corrie and I watched it. She thought it was mostly stupid, or weird, but I, knowing more about it beforehand I guess, liked it. It was definitely weird.
Although it was filmed in desert regions in south-eastern California, its writer and director were one in the same, and his name is Quentin Dupieux.
Here's the poster that reveals the name of the film:
I seem to remember the name being Robert when I first read about the movie.
In a nutshell Robert is the name of the main character, a rubber tire that has come to life, discovered that it has telekinetic powers, falls in love, and gruesomely murders all sorts of people. Now don't you want to see it? Is it just me that reads that premise and says: That's one for me?
You don't have to recognize the Frenchness to understand right away that the movie's not American. The storyline isn't particularly European; you could say that it's a commentary on wasteful American habits, that we should be killed violently by our newly-sentient garbage, but really it's not so different from The Birds or Attack of the Killer Tomatoes--the absurd just happens for no reason, and you have to deal with it...sorta.
The first two minutes let you know it's not American, or typical. Somebody like David Lynch does things that are very un-American when it comes to his fever-dream-like movies, but still, not like the opening of this movie.
When it opens the camera is set in the middle of a long dusty street, a wide angle lens shows a car pointed in the camera's direction off in the distance. Between the camera and the car along the side of the road are cheap looking wooden dining room-style chairs. The car, as it slowly drives towards the camera, swings widely back and forth across the street, knocking over every chair and breaking them.
It's bizarre to look at, and is a way to get a schmuck like me hooked. It takes its time and unfolds in a single long take. The car is a police cruiser, and when it stops the driver gets out and opens up the trunk. A cop gets out of the trunk, grabs a glass of water from car, and addresses the camera. His soliloquy about the rampant "for no apparent reason" in movies has you thinking okaaaaay, and when finished, despite the obvious blinding heat and glaring sky, he pours the water onto the ground.
It turns out he's not talking to home-viewers, he's addressing "viewers of the movie", a set of spectators that have binoculars and occasionally comment on the tire-story-movie in one of the most bizarre side narratives ever. The spectators are forced to sleep outdoors as they follow along with the Robert the Tire's story, and then they're poisoned...most of them anyway...
I'm telling you, this is the Frenchest wacky California desert movie ever.
Another way to tell it's French (or not American) is the heroine, if you can call her that. She's a sexy brunette. I mean that in the sense that she's not one of America's anorexic impossibly skinny movie starlets. She's not 5'10" and 120 pounds of t&a, and she's not blonde. She's just a regular and believable sexy girl, the kind that are accepted in France.
In a scene where she checks into a motel, she calls home to leave a message for her mom (or talk to her, maybe, concerning her trip's progress) before she gets into the shower, and you can tell from her accent that she's French.
If you have streaming Netflix and are in the mood for one of the most original films around, check it out. If you don't have streaming Netflix, but like the idea of telekinetic murderous tires, locate this movie and take a gander.
Although it was filmed in desert regions in south-eastern California, its writer and director were one in the same, and his name is Quentin Dupieux.
Here's the poster that reveals the name of the film:
I seem to remember the name being Robert when I first read about the movie.
In a nutshell Robert is the name of the main character, a rubber tire that has come to life, discovered that it has telekinetic powers, falls in love, and gruesomely murders all sorts of people. Now don't you want to see it? Is it just me that reads that premise and says: That's one for me?
You don't have to recognize the Frenchness to understand right away that the movie's not American. The storyline isn't particularly European; you could say that it's a commentary on wasteful American habits, that we should be killed violently by our newly-sentient garbage, but really it's not so different from The Birds or Attack of the Killer Tomatoes--the absurd just happens for no reason, and you have to deal with it...sorta.
The first two minutes let you know it's not American, or typical. Somebody like David Lynch does things that are very un-American when it comes to his fever-dream-like movies, but still, not like the opening of this movie.
When it opens the camera is set in the middle of a long dusty street, a wide angle lens shows a car pointed in the camera's direction off in the distance. Between the camera and the car along the side of the road are cheap looking wooden dining room-style chairs. The car, as it slowly drives towards the camera, swings widely back and forth across the street, knocking over every chair and breaking them.
It's bizarre to look at, and is a way to get a schmuck like me hooked. It takes its time and unfolds in a single long take. The car is a police cruiser, and when it stops the driver gets out and opens up the trunk. A cop gets out of the trunk, grabs a glass of water from car, and addresses the camera. His soliloquy about the rampant "for no apparent reason" in movies has you thinking okaaaaay, and when finished, despite the obvious blinding heat and glaring sky, he pours the water onto the ground.
It turns out he's not talking to home-viewers, he's addressing "viewers of the movie", a set of spectators that have binoculars and occasionally comment on the tire-story-movie in one of the most bizarre side narratives ever. The spectators are forced to sleep outdoors as they follow along with the Robert the Tire's story, and then they're poisoned...most of them anyway...
I'm telling you, this is the Frenchest wacky California desert movie ever.
Another way to tell it's French (or not American) is the heroine, if you can call her that. She's a sexy brunette. I mean that in the sense that she's not one of America's anorexic impossibly skinny movie starlets. She's not 5'10" and 120 pounds of t&a, and she's not blonde. She's just a regular and believable sexy girl, the kind that are accepted in France.
In a scene where she checks into a motel, she calls home to leave a message for her mom (or talk to her, maybe, concerning her trip's progress) before she gets into the shower, and you can tell from her accent that she's French.
If you have streaming Netflix and are in the mood for one of the most original films around, check it out. If you don't have streaming Netflix, but like the idea of telekinetic murderous tires, locate this movie and take a gander.
April 2012 a Big Month (For Posts)
In June of 2009 I set my record for number of posts in a month at 51. That was a good month for posting, mainly because we went on some trips and I ended up with lots to talk about, and even near the end, with a rainbow piece about Thrice Refracted Light I felt like I'd been away for a time and pulled something out of my ass. That was the 29th of June, and I still had three pieces to go before I was to be done.
Well, I've eclipsed that this past April, only it's hard to see. Since I have some many blogs, it's hard to get a handle of everything I wrote in those thirty days, and I mean it's hard for me.
On this blog, my OG site, I had only 17 posts. On the Observatory I had 10. On the travel blog I had 9. I had 18 on the library blog, 8 on the food site, 9 on the Wasteland, and 4 posts on the local scene blog that started on 420. That right there was 75, and that's not counting my mostly vanilla sports posts, of which there were 31.
That's 106 posts total.
Keeping busy, anyway.
Well, I've eclipsed that this past April, only it's hard to see. Since I have some many blogs, it's hard to get a handle of everything I wrote in those thirty days, and I mean it's hard for me.
On this blog, my OG site, I had only 17 posts. On the Observatory I had 10. On the travel blog I had 9. I had 18 on the library blog, 8 on the food site, 9 on the Wasteland, and 4 posts on the local scene blog that started on 420. That right there was 75, and that's not counting my mostly vanilla sports posts, of which there were 31.
That's 106 posts total.
Keeping busy, anyway.
Big Things Today...
Not that I've finished up my Chef Gonzo posts, and half of the Blonde Giant posts, it's time to get to the meat of the posts for today, my original blogs, which, while not really neglected, haven't been worked on like they would have been in the past.
So...without further ado, the first few will be on the Observatory, and then back to here, and in a week, you'll never know what the progression was, or that there ever was a progression...
So...without further ado, the first few will be on the Observatory, and then back to here, and in a week, you'll never know what the progression was, or that there ever was a progression...
Monday, May 14, 2012
Ruminations on The Cabin
In my first trip since 2004 to our family's Cabin, up in the California Cascades near the volcano Mt. Lassen, and my brother and I went to work. It was a Saturday.
This year our family will be adding a room to the back, extending the deck, and putting in a foundation, a move deemed necessary by the association in the tiny community of Mill Creek.
That's the detail oriented background.
The Cabin has been in our family since it was put together--er, built--by my great-grandfather Merlin (seriously) and his brother-in-law Al. My mom has pictures of herself and her siblings and her cousins as kids romping around the Cabin's grounds and the nearby forest. When they became parents, they brought their kids, us, my cousins and our second cousins. Now that Norm has been added to the family, he's brought his youngin', Norman, to the grounds, as I suppose we will similarly do.
Everybody has fond memories of coming to the Cabin. The smell of the pine trees in that crisp altitude air is lodged deep in my brain. The sound the stairs make when you truck up and down them has a home as a deep memory sound. The meadow right outside the play area and before the forest starts, where my dad and brother and I would lounge during the moonless nights and stare at the starry sky. I've never seen so many stars before or since.
Because there were my mom and her two siblings, and their three cousins, and the two groups from my grandmother's generation, with eight possible groups, a schedule was made to sign up for visiting days. This is still in place. My dad, when we were kids, would always shoot for new moon times, when the sky was free of the moon's light pollution.
I remember when the television was first introduced--amid much resistance from others. It has a VCR attached, and that was the key. The trips, up until then, were about exploring the woods, and the creek, and the volcano and about reading, reading I tells ya'...we were always expected to finish a certain reading list. Well, once the VCR and TV were allowed in, it gave us the ability to stay up later watching movies than we otherwise would have been able to reading or putting together puzzles. It does, though, change the dynamic of the visit. Now it's a DVD player, of course.
For fun, when not out frolicking on the forest, we used to set peanuts up on the deck's banister to lure the blue jays. Charlie was the name we gave to them, or it was the name passed down from our parents to us for the jays. But, once Charlie swooped down to get the peanut, we'd blast him with a squirt gun. This kind of thing kept us entertained for hours, as the reluctant blue jays were mostly willing to take the shots to get the nuts.
I remember coming down the stairs in the mornings to the smell of the wood burning stove going and heating the entire bottom floor (the days were warm but the mornings cool) mixed with the smell of cooking bacon. My grandmother would be up cooking away, and she'd ask if we were ready for some hot cocoa; she'd warm it up in a tiny sauce pot. Behind everything would be the background smell of that wonderful pine, permeating every facet of the Cabin experience.
It was that pine forest that constructed my understanding of forests that endured until our cross country trip in 1990. I know that I was only 11 then, but that trip changed my understanding of forests. Up until then, the only forests that I ever conceived of were rain forests--they were on the news and important to our globe--and the sugar pine forests in which our Cabin lives. Seeing a wide swath of the country opened me up to the notion of leafy forests that weren't rain forests.
I never fully appreciated the Cabin while I was young and living close by and frequently indulging in the kinds of substances that make the forest so much more fun. I did take Corrie back in 2004, and we climbed Lassen and had beers afterward.
Here's a picture of the Cabin and the soon to be changed deck. It looks so small in person, but inside it looks just right. The side door, seen here on the left, is the main entrance.
This a view from the deck of the play area before the meadow. It's like you've just come outside that side door. There used to be a swing on one branch, and at one point there were two hammocks set up between trees in the area to the left of this picture.
Our Cabin is the last one before the forest grounds start, and, if you look close, you can see a yellow and black sign in the picture below. It's new, at least for me, and designates where the property line ends and the National Forest begins.
This is the inside of the Cabin, and while the furniture and their orientation change, it always retains a hint of the past.
These are the tight stairs leading up to the upper floor, where the sleeping quarters are.
Here's a brief look at the sleeping quarters. There are three beds in a row, one across from them under the sloped eaves, exposed rafters, making this area rather cold in the morning, and a door that separates the "adults" bedroom from kids quarters. In the bedroom, the rafters aren't exposed, and the bed is a double.
When we were kids up here visiting, our grandma would sleep downstairs in a day bed next to the bathroom. It's because of the stairs and lack of privacy that the extra room is being added. This type of sleeping arrangement allows/forces the kids to become closer and bond. Parents always slept in the closed door room up here.
I, for some reason, always liked the bed under the sloping roof, despite the fact that I hit my head more than once. I still consider it "my spot". My family can correct me at their leisure if they feel like I'm wrong.
Artsy projects were also things we liked to do while visiting, and in 2004, Corrie and I added to the legacy with this piece. I remember thinking on this recent trip that maybe Corrie painted something on our trip 8 years before...and as I tried to remember, this little painting/drawing was looking right at me, and I eventually saw it.
Ahh, the Meadow. Just past a tiny brook lies the Meadow, and just past the Meadow lies the start of the Forest. The meadow's shape and dimensions have shifted slightly over the years, but it remains a moment of sublime existence captured and ready to re-affect somebody.
Just beyond the meadow, the forest gave us kids a chance to explore, to horse around, to play, and to keep busy. As our imaginations developed and our attitudes matured, the forest became that binding connector to each other and to nature. The felled behemoth of a tree that was slowly returning to the Earth that we played on each summer...from it's spot on the forest floor it taught us as much about death and reincarnation as anything else in the world could have, and it was something we got to jump on and grab and smell and taste it on our sweaty hands and listen as it crumbled.
At some point we'd turn away from the direction of the road. See, the forest lived in a wedge that was bordered on the left, or up-side, by the road, and on the right, or down-side, by the steep slope down the the creek. We'd have to have ventured rather far, like past maybe the second meadow, before we turned for the creek. There was a meadow pretty far into the forest, and then a smaller second meadow, and if I remember correctly, if was after then that it made sense to make the turn for the creek. If you turned too early, the way to the creek would harder and farther than necessary.
When you finally made it you could play in the coldest damn ice runoff you've ever felt. It tasted so good, even though you weren't supposed to drink it. Heh, kids...
Returning to the Cabin was at once sad, in that our forest adventure from the day was winding down, but our spirits were lifted when we though of all the Charlie's we still needed to squirt and all the awesome food there was to eat---sandwiches and watermelon and peanuts.
Here's the look of the final approach to the Cabin coming from the meadow, and ultimately, the forest.
This trip was a working Saturday, and my brother and I and our Uncle Rich only got to spend a few hours hauling stuff from underneath the deck in preparations for the construction guys. This is pretty much all there was, loaded into the rented dumpster.
I set my camera on the stump we all used to use for family portraits and set the timer. That's Dan and Uncle Rich and me, as we were getting ready to leave.
The trip was short, but worth it. Corrie and I left LB Friday night and made it to Sac in the we morning hours late Friday/early Saturday in six hours. Dan drove us to the Cabin, and back, on Saturday, three hours up and three hours back. Corrie and I left for LB Sunday after brunch with and old friend in downtown Sac, and another six hours.
It was a lot of car time for such a little amount of work, but that's the kind of pull the Cabin has over her subjects. I've been one of the more wayward sons, as far as visits and face time with the thin walls and rarefied air, but it was necessary for me. It was necessary for me to reclaim something from my past, and something of my inner fabric.
This year our family will be adding a room to the back, extending the deck, and putting in a foundation, a move deemed necessary by the association in the tiny community of Mill Creek.
That's the detail oriented background.
The Cabin has been in our family since it was put together--er, built--by my great-grandfather Merlin (seriously) and his brother-in-law Al. My mom has pictures of herself and her siblings and her cousins as kids romping around the Cabin's grounds and the nearby forest. When they became parents, they brought their kids, us, my cousins and our second cousins. Now that Norm has been added to the family, he's brought his youngin', Norman, to the grounds, as I suppose we will similarly do.
Everybody has fond memories of coming to the Cabin. The smell of the pine trees in that crisp altitude air is lodged deep in my brain. The sound the stairs make when you truck up and down them has a home as a deep memory sound. The meadow right outside the play area and before the forest starts, where my dad and brother and I would lounge during the moonless nights and stare at the starry sky. I've never seen so many stars before or since.
Because there were my mom and her two siblings, and their three cousins, and the two groups from my grandmother's generation, with eight possible groups, a schedule was made to sign up for visiting days. This is still in place. My dad, when we were kids, would always shoot for new moon times, when the sky was free of the moon's light pollution.
I remember when the television was first introduced--amid much resistance from others. It has a VCR attached, and that was the key. The trips, up until then, were about exploring the woods, and the creek, and the volcano and about reading, reading I tells ya'...we were always expected to finish a certain reading list. Well, once the VCR and TV were allowed in, it gave us the ability to stay up later watching movies than we otherwise would have been able to reading or putting together puzzles. It does, though, change the dynamic of the visit. Now it's a DVD player, of course.
For fun, when not out frolicking on the forest, we used to set peanuts up on the deck's banister to lure the blue jays. Charlie was the name we gave to them, or it was the name passed down from our parents to us for the jays. But, once Charlie swooped down to get the peanut, we'd blast him with a squirt gun. This kind of thing kept us entertained for hours, as the reluctant blue jays were mostly willing to take the shots to get the nuts.
I remember coming down the stairs in the mornings to the smell of the wood burning stove going and heating the entire bottom floor (the days were warm but the mornings cool) mixed with the smell of cooking bacon. My grandmother would be up cooking away, and she'd ask if we were ready for some hot cocoa; she'd warm it up in a tiny sauce pot. Behind everything would be the background smell of that wonderful pine, permeating every facet of the Cabin experience.
It was that pine forest that constructed my understanding of forests that endured until our cross country trip in 1990. I know that I was only 11 then, but that trip changed my understanding of forests. Up until then, the only forests that I ever conceived of were rain forests--they were on the news and important to our globe--and the sugar pine forests in which our Cabin lives. Seeing a wide swath of the country opened me up to the notion of leafy forests that weren't rain forests.
I never fully appreciated the Cabin while I was young and living close by and frequently indulging in the kinds of substances that make the forest so much more fun. I did take Corrie back in 2004, and we climbed Lassen and had beers afterward.
Here's a picture of the Cabin and the soon to be changed deck. It looks so small in person, but inside it looks just right. The side door, seen here on the left, is the main entrance.
This a view from the deck of the play area before the meadow. It's like you've just come outside that side door. There used to be a swing on one branch, and at one point there were two hammocks set up between trees in the area to the left of this picture.
Our Cabin is the last one before the forest grounds start, and, if you look close, you can see a yellow and black sign in the picture below. It's new, at least for me, and designates where the property line ends and the National Forest begins.
This is the inside of the Cabin, and while the furniture and their orientation change, it always retains a hint of the past.
These are the tight stairs leading up to the upper floor, where the sleeping quarters are.
Here's a brief look at the sleeping quarters. There are three beds in a row, one across from them under the sloped eaves, exposed rafters, making this area rather cold in the morning, and a door that separates the "adults" bedroom from kids quarters. In the bedroom, the rafters aren't exposed, and the bed is a double.
When we were kids up here visiting, our grandma would sleep downstairs in a day bed next to the bathroom. It's because of the stairs and lack of privacy that the extra room is being added. This type of sleeping arrangement allows/forces the kids to become closer and bond. Parents always slept in the closed door room up here.
I, for some reason, always liked the bed under the sloping roof, despite the fact that I hit my head more than once. I still consider it "my spot". My family can correct me at their leisure if they feel like I'm wrong.
Artsy projects were also things we liked to do while visiting, and in 2004, Corrie and I added to the legacy with this piece. I remember thinking on this recent trip that maybe Corrie painted something on our trip 8 years before...and as I tried to remember, this little painting/drawing was looking right at me, and I eventually saw it.
Ahh, the Meadow. Just past a tiny brook lies the Meadow, and just past the Meadow lies the start of the Forest. The meadow's shape and dimensions have shifted slightly over the years, but it remains a moment of sublime existence captured and ready to re-affect somebody.
Just beyond the meadow, the forest gave us kids a chance to explore, to horse around, to play, and to keep busy. As our imaginations developed and our attitudes matured, the forest became that binding connector to each other and to nature. The felled behemoth of a tree that was slowly returning to the Earth that we played on each summer...from it's spot on the forest floor it taught us as much about death and reincarnation as anything else in the world could have, and it was something we got to jump on and grab and smell and taste it on our sweaty hands and listen as it crumbled.
At some point we'd turn away from the direction of the road. See, the forest lived in a wedge that was bordered on the left, or up-side, by the road, and on the right, or down-side, by the steep slope down the the creek. We'd have to have ventured rather far, like past maybe the second meadow, before we turned for the creek. There was a meadow pretty far into the forest, and then a smaller second meadow, and if I remember correctly, if was after then that it made sense to make the turn for the creek. If you turned too early, the way to the creek would harder and farther than necessary.
When you finally made it you could play in the coldest damn ice runoff you've ever felt. It tasted so good, even though you weren't supposed to drink it. Heh, kids...
Returning to the Cabin was at once sad, in that our forest adventure from the day was winding down, but our spirits were lifted when we though of all the Charlie's we still needed to squirt and all the awesome food there was to eat---sandwiches and watermelon and peanuts.
Here's the look of the final approach to the Cabin coming from the meadow, and ultimately, the forest.
This trip was a working Saturday, and my brother and I and our Uncle Rich only got to spend a few hours hauling stuff from underneath the deck in preparations for the construction guys. This is pretty much all there was, loaded into the rented dumpster.
I set my camera on the stump we all used to use for family portraits and set the timer. That's Dan and Uncle Rich and me, as we were getting ready to leave.
The trip was short, but worth it. Corrie and I left LB Friday night and made it to Sac in the we morning hours late Friday/early Saturday in six hours. Dan drove us to the Cabin, and back, on Saturday, three hours up and three hours back. Corrie and I left for LB Sunday after brunch with and old friend in downtown Sac, and another six hours.
It was a lot of car time for such a little amount of work, but that's the kind of pull the Cabin has over her subjects. I've been one of the more wayward sons, as far as visits and face time with the thin walls and rarefied air, but it was necessary for me. It was necessary for me to reclaim something from my past, and something of my inner fabric.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Common Typos
I've been experiencing a new set of common typos lately, common to when I sit down and type at this lappy, and if you follow any one of my blogs you can tell is often enough.
I've been growing this bad habit of having my fingers type faster than maybe they used to, and aren't communicating as well with each other as in the past.
Two words that I'm constantly having to fix are "rememebr" and "histroy". It's that transposing two letters that's been killing me lately, and it happens with a scary frequency. I'd say almost once a sentence, but at least once a paragraph. It's annoying at best.
I think my space bar is also starting to go, since it doesn't seem like it used to...
Also, for some reason my left 'Shift' key is having also acting up. I use that key to capitalize words: I use the left Shift and mostly the right hand to make the capital letter. Often now I get instead no letter instead of a capital letter. Take the title of this post for example. After I typed it in, I went about starting the post, and when I looked back up at it, I saw "ommon Typos". It worked for 'Typos'?
Maybe I hit the space-bar too softly, and the hemispheres of my brain aren't communicating well enough, and that would go a long way to explaining the first two errors, but the Shift key problem has be baffled.
I think one time I'll leave some some of those typos in a post so you can see what it's like raw, before I try to fix it a little.
I've been growing this bad habit of having my fingers type faster than maybe they used to, and aren't communicating as well with each other as in the past.
Two words that I'm constantly having to fix are "rememebr" and "histroy". It's that transposing two letters that's been killing me lately, and it happens with a scary frequency. I'd say almost once a sentence, but at least once a paragraph. It's annoying at best.
I think my space bar is also starting to go, since it doesn't seem like it used to...
Also, for some reason my left 'Shift' key is having also acting up. I use that key to capitalize words: I use the left Shift and mostly the right hand to make the capital letter. Often now I get instead no letter instead of a capital letter. Take the title of this post for example. After I typed it in, I went about starting the post, and when I looked back up at it, I saw "ommon Typos". It worked for 'Typos'?
Maybe I hit the space-bar too softly, and the hemispheres of my brain aren't communicating well enough, and that would go a long way to explaining the first two errors, but the Shift key problem has be baffled.
I think one time I'll leave some some of those typos in a post so you can see what it's like raw, before I try to fix it a little.
Obama Takes Stand on Gay Marriage
This is a good move for him, even if he loses in November. For Romney to even have a chance this November, he'll have to be starkly against this stance, and in fact, he issued a statement minutes after Obama's declaration that he believes marriage is between one man and one woman.
But the idea here for Obama is multi-pronged. First, he'd been getting skewered by his supporters who are gay marriage proponents for not taking this position before, but really, who else were they going to vote for? Secondly, he can say that he was the first sitting President to publicly support gay marriage. Thirdly, it puts all opponents of his and of gay marriage on the wrong side of history in long view.
Segregation was the law of the land for very long, powerful enough to get a Supreme Court decision in their favor. It, obviously, lost in the long view, and got a new Supreme Court decision to overturn the first decision.
Cementing Civil Rights as a part of everyday culture is a slow moving beast, and Obama helped nudge it along.
Even if Romney wins, how do you think his stance as anti-gay marriage will look like in fifty years? If you don't think our society is slowly going there--with the definition being adjusted to include same sex unions--then you're not paying enough attention. This isn't some African country where you get the death penalty for being gay. Homosexuals in this country have citizenship, are franchised, are allowed to adopt, can openly run for public office and have even enjoyed victories on that front. Hell, the mayor of the fourth largest US city, Annise Parker, is an openly gay lesbian, and that's in Houston, Texas.
Homosexual couples have been enjoying civil unions, but no marriages, in some places, but don't worry; those two things are separate but equal. Hopefully we remember how the last "separate but equal" situation turned out.
And, lastly I just want to state that while there are many folks severely opposed to same sex marriages, there is probably a higher percentage of the population that supports it than the percentage who supported giving minorities all those rights back in the sixties. Civil rights should not be the subject of popular fiat.
But the idea here for Obama is multi-pronged. First, he'd been getting skewered by his supporters who are gay marriage proponents for not taking this position before, but really, who else were they going to vote for? Secondly, he can say that he was the first sitting President to publicly support gay marriage. Thirdly, it puts all opponents of his and of gay marriage on the wrong side of history in long view.
Segregation was the law of the land for very long, powerful enough to get a Supreme Court decision in their favor. It, obviously, lost in the long view, and got a new Supreme Court decision to overturn the first decision.
Cementing Civil Rights as a part of everyday culture is a slow moving beast, and Obama helped nudge it along.
Even if Romney wins, how do you think his stance as anti-gay marriage will look like in fifty years? If you don't think our society is slowly going there--with the definition being adjusted to include same sex unions--then you're not paying enough attention. This isn't some African country where you get the death penalty for being gay. Homosexuals in this country have citizenship, are franchised, are allowed to adopt, can openly run for public office and have even enjoyed victories on that front. Hell, the mayor of the fourth largest US city, Annise Parker, is an openly gay lesbian, and that's in Houston, Texas.
Homosexual couples have been enjoying civil unions, but no marriages, in some places, but don't worry; those two things are separate but equal. Hopefully we remember how the last "separate but equal" situation turned out.
And, lastly I just want to state that while there are many folks severely opposed to same sex marriages, there is probably a higher percentage of the population that supports it than the percentage who supported giving minorities all those rights back in the sixties. Civil rights should not be the subject of popular fiat.
Monday, May 7, 2012
My Kurosawa Photo
Taken from Dan's speeding car as we wound through the mountains at speed:
Akira Kurosawa, the acclaimed Japanese filmmaker, once used pointing his camera towards at the treetops aimed it at the sun as an innovation in the industry. It makes you feel small and insignificant yet connected to nature at the same time.
As we traveled through the mountains separating I-5 from our family's Cabin to do some necessary housework before the contractors arrive to do serious work, I lamented the many years it's taken me to get back. That was my first trip since 2004 when I took Corrie for her only trip.
Living back east taught us to appreciate the little things like visits and trips and the surrounding sights, be they very close or quite far away, and it has been since then that I was positively itching to get back to the Cabin. It never worked out. 2008: the wedding, then we were so broke we couldn't even rent a car in August of the same year for Norm's wedding; 2009: trips to Chicago, Madison, and OKC, then we moved to Texas; 2010: SLO for San and Aurrie's wedding, where we also got to see Sacramento, San Jose and Fresno; and 2011: I worked so much we only really got to see Sac for Norman's emergence, SLO a few times, and Catalina.
So, when the opportunity to do some work up at the Cabin came up, and I could swing it, the daunting ride couldn't hold me back. Six hours up to Sac Friday night. Three hours up to the Cabin and three hours back on Saturday. Six hours back to Long Beach.
I've got more pictures and anecdotes, but this, my "Kurosawa Shot", is the first taste.
Akira Kurosawa, the acclaimed Japanese filmmaker, once used pointing his camera towards at the treetops aimed it at the sun as an innovation in the industry. It makes you feel small and insignificant yet connected to nature at the same time.
As we traveled through the mountains separating I-5 from our family's Cabin to do some necessary housework before the contractors arrive to do serious work, I lamented the many years it's taken me to get back. That was my first trip since 2004 when I took Corrie for her only trip.
Living back east taught us to appreciate the little things like visits and trips and the surrounding sights, be they very close or quite far away, and it has been since then that I was positively itching to get back to the Cabin. It never worked out. 2008: the wedding, then we were so broke we couldn't even rent a car in August of the same year for Norm's wedding; 2009: trips to Chicago, Madison, and OKC, then we moved to Texas; 2010: SLO for San and Aurrie's wedding, where we also got to see Sacramento, San Jose and Fresno; and 2011: I worked so much we only really got to see Sac for Norman's emergence, SLO a few times, and Catalina.
So, when the opportunity to do some work up at the Cabin came up, and I could swing it, the daunting ride couldn't hold me back. Six hours up to Sac Friday night. Three hours up to the Cabin and three hours back on Saturday. Six hours back to Long Beach.
I've got more pictures and anecdotes, but this, my "Kurosawa Shot", is the first taste.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Helicopters!
What the hell is going on around our little 'hood in Long Beach? There seems to be a constant helicopter traffic right over our apartment building the last few days. Yesterday, last night, right now.
I betcha over in Brentwood you don't get too many helicopters disrupting their late mornings.
I don't remember this being SouthCentral LA.
I betcha over in Brentwood you don't get too many helicopters disrupting their late mornings.
I don't remember this being South
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Freedom Tower Eclipses Empire State Building
The Freedom Tower in lower Manhattan is slowly going up, and the other day they hoisted an I-beam into place that made it to 1261 feet, becoming officially the tallest building in the City. Since we left before they had broken ground, I have no idea about how the view of downtown looks.
I do have the ability to imagine, though. The Empire State Building is unimaginably large. If you've never been to New York City, it's hard to fathom what it's like to be around thing, and from how far away it's visible.
And now there's a building growing out of downtown that's bigger.
We need to go back and visit...
I do have the ability to imagine, though. The Empire State Building is unimaginably large. If you've never been to New York City, it's hard to fathom what it's like to be around thing, and from how far away it's visible.
And now there's a building growing out of downtown that's bigger.
We need to go back and visit...
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Something Brewing in Egypt
The Saudis have closed their embassy in Cairo and their consulates in Alexandria and Suez following Egyptian protests over the Saudi detention of an Egyptian lawyer, Ahmed al-Gizawi. Some people believe it is because the lawyer insulted King Abdullah, which is a lashable offense.
The story goes (from Egypt) that al-Gizawi was on his pilgrimmage and was snatched up because of the perceived insult to the King. The Saudis say they detained him at the airport in Jeddah because he was caught with 21,000 Xanax pills. Xanax is illegal in Saudi Arabia.
Egypt, with the world's largest population of Arabs, has historically been one of the more opened-minded and secular Muslim nations, for what's it's worth, despite plenty of movements similar to the revolution in Iran. Saudi Arabia has been the opposite; one of the most conservative places on earth, where women have similar rights to American pets. Apparently they feel that women, like loose dogs, shouldn't be allowed to roam the streets alone in their grand oil-funded cities.
This may be nothing, but...it may be the start of a charged cultural battle of words.
The story goes (from Egypt) that al-Gizawi was on his pilgrimmage and was snatched up because of the perceived insult to the King. The Saudis say they detained him at the airport in Jeddah because he was caught with 21,000 Xanax pills. Xanax is illegal in Saudi Arabia.
Egypt, with the world's largest population of Arabs, has historically been one of the more opened-minded and secular Muslim nations, for what's it's worth, despite plenty of movements similar to the revolution in Iran. Saudi Arabia has been the opposite; one of the most conservative places on earth, where women have similar rights to American pets. Apparently they feel that women, like loose dogs, shouldn't be allowed to roam the streets alone in their grand oil-funded cities.
This may be nothing, but...it may be the start of a charged cultural battle of words.
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