It's amazing what mp3s you can find on the internet if you just look hard enough. For example, over the last 7 days or so, I've been listening to Bill Bryson's book The Lost Continent in the car to and from work. In brief, its about Bill's (I'll refer to him by his first name. He doesn't mind) trek across American after spending a number of years in Great Britian as a way of re familiarizing himself with our great land. One of his goals was to see if that perfect American town portrayed in movies actually existed. If you've read any of his books (A Short History of Nearly Everything, A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail, Notes from a Small Island just to name a few) this literary work will not disappoint.
Prior to a week ago, the words "audio book" to me seemed like a contradiction. A book, after all, unless you're a 6 year old, should be read not heard. Listening to a book by all accounts seemed to me like cheating on a test. Why not just read the summary on the back cover?
That was my stance until I started listening to this book. Boy was I blown away. It wasn't at all as bad as I envisioned. My initial guilt for even postulating such an endeavor was quickly snuffed out as I became drawn into the storyline. True, its not the same as digesting the pages one after another while sitting in your favorite chair sipping an adult beverage but it doesn't suppress ones ability to conjure up mental images of what is transpiring in a specific passage even while thundering down the interstate.
The first seven or eight chapters which I finished last Thursday chronicles Bill's early leg of the journey which took him through Illinois, Kentucky and parts of deep south. The cotton fields in Mississippi he described reminded me of what I saw when I set out on my own cross country trip back in 1998; a story for another time. As he made his way through Illinois and western Kentucky, his description of the small towns were as vivid as anything I had ever heard.
...Then something hit home...right in between my eyes.
As Bryson searched for the "perfect" American little town, it occurred to me that as I observed my young son playing without a care in the world, I longed for the days when all I did was run around the neighborhood which was "perfect" in my eyes. I'd wake up on a Saturday morning, watched new episodes of Looney Toons (or were they reruns from the 50s and 60s?), ate a bowl of Frosted Flakes and went outside to play ball or ride my bike all over the neighborhood with no thought to what time it was or how much time elapsed. Truth be told, I got pretty good at figuring out the time by looking at the sun, within say a half hour or so. Eventually, I'd return home, eat dinner, help my mom or dad with a few tasks around the house or in the yard followed by more ball playing or more bike riding through the homemade dirt trails on the edge of the neighborhood. The next day, the process would start all over again.
Never did I have to worry about the hardcore reality that made up the world outside my neighborhood. After all, my neighborhood was my "perfect" little town as far as my 8 year old eyes could see. I didn't have to pay bills, didn't have to worry about employment, didn't have to worry about federal or state income tax or health care. My life consisted of three things: playing ball, riding my bike and playing video games. That's it. Nothing more. The rest fell into place. Life couldn't get any easier.
Alas, you can't go back in time to relive childhood days gone by. You can't even pretend that it's 1983 and ride your rusted out BMX up and down the street. I guess you could but the neighbors wouldn't look at you the same after such a stunt. However, during a trip home last summer, I decided to take a trip back to the old trails hoping that I could score one more ride only to find that the weeds had taken over leaving no trace of the trails that once stood. Evidently nature proved to have the last word.
I know it's a stretch but listening to Bill's voyage through these towns made me realize how much I see myself in my son. The childhood innocence he radiates as he plays in the family room or out in the garage is intoxicating. It triggers my memories from childhood of the smell of food my mom was cooking on the stove as I watched reruns of Scooby Doo or the sweet smell of my dad's pipe emanating from the basement as he worked on some project. Heck, I even remember the brand of tobacco--Captain Black--because it was my job to fetch it when he was ready to smoke his pipe.
In and of themselves, these stimuli mean nothing. But to me, they represented security and comfort. I had a comfy house, good food and loving parents that regardless of what trials and tribulations existed in their adult reality, they exuded a sense of calmness that, in retrospect, helped deflect the stress of everyday life away from me. My life in my small little "perfect" world continued unabated with, still, not a care in the world. It is this environment that encapsulates security and comfort that sustains the innocence and "perfection" of childhood that I wish to provide for my son and future child; something they will look back on in their adulthood with soothing fondness.
Call it living vicariously through ones child but playing with my son helps me forget that I am a working, responsible adult who needs to pay his taxes on time. The stressors of everyday life suddenly vanish and my existence becomes locked in a state of pure naivete. For these fleeting moments, I am back at home in 1983 smelling the faint tinge of cigar smoke from my dad or the overriding aroma of spaghetti sauce at the hands of my mom or the sound of the powdery dirt as I ride my bike on the old dirt trails back in the old neighborhood. If only these moments could last as long as childhood itself.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Monday, April 09, 2007
Lake Effect Snow in April Produces Snowout
Lake effect snow is something that I am growing to hate. Hate is a powerful word but it fits here.
On Good Friday, the Cleveland Indians were scheduled to play their home opener. After 2+ hours of snow delays, countless trips across the infield blowing the snow off and thousands of gallons of 2-cycle fuel, the opener was cancelled and rescheduled the next day as a double header. So much for that. The double header was snowed out. So, how about a double header Easter Sunday with another game to be made up later in the year? Nope, another snow out due to the continuous lake effect snow squalls. That makes three consecutive snow outs due to more than 20 inches of snow! Now, the new "home" opener which was pushed to Saturday has been moved to Milwaukee due to horrible field conditions.
What we need now is about a week's worth of 80+ weather. That ain't happening either. Rain is forecasted for Wednesday and Thursday and again on Saturday. At this rate, baseball won't be played in Cleveland until mid-July.
At the bottom are the storm totals since the snow began falling last Wednesday at 5PM. 118 hours of continuous snow.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Nathan's Easter Egg Experience
It's times like these that I realize my son will not remember any of this. In fact, he's probably about a year to a year and a half away from having memories permanently etched in his head from everyday experiences he will be able to look back on. Even still, its great to be apart of you child's explorations creating great memories for yourself even if it involves vinegar laced dye that at the time permanently transforms his hand to an exact likeness of the Incredible Hulk.
That brings us to the pictures chronicling my son's second Easter Egg experience featuring: egg dying, eating and hunting. Enjoy...Oh yes, the one picture with grandma also features her adult beverage cleverly concealed by her right hand.
That brings us to the pictures chronicling my son's second Easter Egg experience featuring: egg dying, eating and hunting. Enjoy...Oh yes, the one picture with grandma also features her adult beverage cleverly concealed by her right hand.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Miscellaneous Thoughts
Can you smell the seasons change?
Yeah. Sounds a bit cheesy. But as the snow melts and the daytime temperatures inch up into the 50s, the smells that are masked by the harshness of winter are released from their slumber slowly permeating the air. Just the other day when we had a fluke 65 degree day, I could smell the saturated topsoil while simultaneously hearing the snow on the roof melt and the resultant water flow down the gutter. You don't realize how energizing an experience that is until you go five months without it.
It is these sensory experiences that accompany spring that make this part of the year my favorite. Keep in mind that I write all this at the expense of it sounding like a sappy Robert Frost poem. Nothing against Robert Frost but poetry and me don't get along. I'm really bad with stanzas especially that 5-7-5 rule for Haiku.
March and early April is that time of the year that shows promise both meteorologically and in the amount of daylight we enjoy late in the day. (The earlier start to Daylight Saving Time thanks to the Energy Reform Act of 2005 is responsible for this). The one disheartening early spring fact of life is the color of the lawn. Snow mold as a result of a heavy snow pack seems like a cancer that only dissipates with time. Patience is not a virtue that I am blessed with when it comes to regaining my lawn's radiance. Even as the grass grows in April and May, the vestiges of this "cancer" remain. Around April 20th, I plan to bust out the garden rake and forcefully remove these "tumors". Whether or not they come willingly is entirely up to them.
As the weather improves, my indoor activities are slowly being phased out in place of more favorable things to do outside in the fresh air such as landscaping. But before I complete the switch, I need to finish a few books. One of which is a great book by a John Spanier, a current or past professor of Political Science ( I can't find him on The Web to find out for sure. Hell, he might be dead seeing that he wrote this book in 1973) at the University of Florida. I'll not go into a lengthy diatribe describing specific citations from the book. Let's just say that up through page 165, he has discussed the psychology of Cold War foreign policy from the third person point of view and how it changed from the end of World War II to the end of the Vietnam War. In essence, the Cold War political chess game dissected for your enjoyment. Sounds like a read for academic types but trust me, its pretty intriguing. At the rate that I'm going, this book, all 400+ pages of it, won't be done until August.
That brings me to my outdoor projects soon to begin once the permafrost softens up in the backyard. I've got a set of outdoor walking stones to put around the steps of the deck. And, the old outdoor basketball hoop is ready to go into the ground shortly thereafter.
Honestly, there was no real reason to write about any of this other than to post something as a transitionary essay to a topic that is really good. What that topic will be is any one's guess.
Yeah. Sounds a bit cheesy. But as the snow melts and the daytime temperatures inch up into the 50s, the smells that are masked by the harshness of winter are released from their slumber slowly permeating the air. Just the other day when we had a fluke 65 degree day, I could smell the saturated topsoil while simultaneously hearing the snow on the roof melt and the resultant water flow down the gutter. You don't realize how energizing an experience that is until you go five months without it.
It is these sensory experiences that accompany spring that make this part of the year my favorite. Keep in mind that I write all this at the expense of it sounding like a sappy Robert Frost poem. Nothing against Robert Frost but poetry and me don't get along. I'm really bad with stanzas especially that 5-7-5 rule for Haiku.
March and early April is that time of the year that shows promise both meteorologically and in the amount of daylight we enjoy late in the day. (The earlier start to Daylight Saving Time thanks to the Energy Reform Act of 2005 is responsible for this). The one disheartening early spring fact of life is the color of the lawn. Snow mold as a result of a heavy snow pack seems like a cancer that only dissipates with time. Patience is not a virtue that I am blessed with when it comes to regaining my lawn's radiance. Even as the grass grows in April and May, the vestiges of this "cancer" remain. Around April 20th, I plan to bust out the garden rake and forcefully remove these "tumors". Whether or not they come willingly is entirely up to them.
As the weather improves, my indoor activities are slowly being phased out in place of more favorable things to do outside in the fresh air such as landscaping. But before I complete the switch, I need to finish a few books. One of which is a great book by a John Spanier, a current or past professor of Political Science ( I can't find him on The Web to find out for sure. Hell, he might be dead seeing that he wrote this book in 1973) at the University of Florida. I'll not go into a lengthy diatribe describing specific citations from the book. Let's just say that up through page 165, he has discussed the psychology of Cold War foreign policy from the third person point of view and how it changed from the end of World War II to the end of the Vietnam War. In essence, the Cold War political chess game dissected for your enjoyment. Sounds like a read for academic types but trust me, its pretty intriguing. At the rate that I'm going, this book, all 400+ pages of it, won't be done until August.
That brings me to my outdoor projects soon to begin once the permafrost softens up in the backyard. I've got a set of outdoor walking stones to put around the steps of the deck. And, the old outdoor basketball hoop is ready to go into the ground shortly thereafter.
Honestly, there was no real reason to write about any of this other than to post something as a transitionary essay to a topic that is really good. What that topic will be is any one's guess.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Global Warming - A Different View
Those of you who know me know that I HATE politics. I am, however, fascinated in how ideals, whether from the left or right, are conveyed then twisted and molded to fit a certain political paradigm and that there are common everyday folks dumb enough to believe these edicts as the archetype of ultimate thinking.
Since we all hear about Global Warming through the media, which only provides the side of the argument that has "shock value" and thus higher ratings, I offer another side of this debate through this video.
Keep this in mind: I am a scientist so I look at science related topics with an unbiased eye. When I formulate a scientific hypothesis based on unbiased scientific data, the political ramifications of such a result don't even enter into the picture. For a more balanced perspective, I recently saw the Al Gore documentary. Again, I kept an open mind.
However, after close inspection, I found that Al Gore's documentary on Global Warming is filled with incomplete truths of it's own as illustrated in this video. In my opinion, this video gives the most scientific, unbiased look at Global Warming.
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-4520665474899458831
Since we all hear about Global Warming through the media, which only provides the side of the argument that has "shock value" and thus higher ratings, I offer another side of this debate through this video.
Keep this in mind: I am a scientist so I look at science related topics with an unbiased eye. When I formulate a scientific hypothesis based on unbiased scientific data, the political ramifications of such a result don't even enter into the picture. For a more balanced perspective, I recently saw the Al Gore documentary. Again, I kept an open mind.
However, after close inspection, I found that Al Gore's documentary on Global Warming is filled with incomplete truths of it's own as illustrated in this video. In my opinion, this video gives the most scientific, unbiased look at Global Warming.
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-4520665474899458831
Monday, March 12, 2007
Expanding My Interests
For those of you who don't know, I used to play the drums. Yes, its been a while, quite a while in fact. But over the last couple of years, I've been rekindling my interest in playing. So, through relearning the basic rudiments with a drum book that I've had since I was a kid, it's slowly coming back to me. Not that I was all that good to begin with but what I had way back when is coming back...slowly but surely.
I found some really cool videos on YouTube showing the best drummer (in my opinion) of all time: BUDDY RICH. Even if you're not a drum fan, they're pretty mind blowing.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1bIchqJoxFQ
I found some really cool videos on YouTube showing the best drummer (in my opinion) of all time: BUDDY RICH. Even if you're not a drum fan, they're pretty mind blowing.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1bIchqJoxFQ
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
My Birthday
As the title implies, today is my birthday. As I write this around 6PM in the evening, I can only recall maybe 3 times today when I reminded myself that it was indeed my birthday. Two of those times were when a family member called to wish me a happy birthday. I am grateful for everyone remembering but in the grand scheme of things, it's just another day at the office which is fine with me. While I was recently promoted at my job, it didn't actually occur on my birthday so technically it doesn't count in breaking the monotony of my birthday workday. The time of the promotion was close--27 hours close.
Awe hell, it counts. Who am I kidding?
Another reason that this birthday doesn't seem like a big deal is that my age--33--isn't a real sexy number. For starters, I'm not a big fan of odd numbers past 9. 11, 13, 19, 21, 27...not a fan of any of them. I don't know why this is. It just is.
Age number 32 was good. 30 was equally good. 34 will also be a memorable birthday simply because it's an even number. 33? Nope, it really doesn't represent anything. It's not a 21st birthday filled with drunken activities. Its not the 30th which ceremoniously signifies that you are an adult and that you should grow up and accept your move to adulthood even though your reluctance to do so becomes the driving force behind your behavior for the first few months afterward. (Was that a run-on sentence?)
I had a nice breakfast with my wife and son so we had quality family time which amounted to about 55 minutes but quality time nonetheless. Nathan drew me a nice birthday card which he was very proud of. A good time for all.
But what would make me forget that my age will be an odd number at 8:58 EST? Lots of cash. So just go ahead and back up the Brinks truck to my doorstep and just let the C-notes flow right into my living room. A beer will do in the mean time.
Awe hell, it counts. Who am I kidding?
Another reason that this birthday doesn't seem like a big deal is that my age--33--isn't a real sexy number. For starters, I'm not a big fan of odd numbers past 9. 11, 13, 19, 21, 27...not a fan of any of them. I don't know why this is. It just is.
Age number 32 was good. 30 was equally good. 34 will also be a memorable birthday simply because it's an even number. 33? Nope, it really doesn't represent anything. It's not a 21st birthday filled with drunken activities. Its not the 30th which ceremoniously signifies that you are an adult and that you should grow up and accept your move to adulthood even though your reluctance to do so becomes the driving force behind your behavior for the first few months afterward. (Was that a run-on sentence?)
I had a nice breakfast with my wife and son so we had quality family time which amounted to about 55 minutes but quality time nonetheless. Nathan drew me a nice birthday card which he was very proud of. A good time for all.
But what would make me forget that my age will be an odd number at 8:58 EST? Lots of cash. So just go ahead and back up the Brinks truck to my doorstep and just let the C-notes flow right into my living room. A beer will do in the mean time.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Friday, February 23, 2007
Milestone News As Promised
Back in the 70s and 80s, you rarely heard of people driving cars with much more than 100,000 miles. Nowadays, its fairly common. The new watermark of high mileage is now 200,000 or better.
Yesterday, on February 22, 2007 at 3:13PM, my 1997 Pontiac Grand AM just eclipsed the 200,000 mile barrier! And let me tell you, it was every bit exciting as you would think. To be honest, this narrative really won't do the experience justice. So I'll do my best in chronicling the minute of so leading up to the apex of odometer longevity.
The last 20 miles or so as I watched the odometer roll as I thundered down the interstate were filled with anticipation. So much so you could cut it with a knife it was so thick...
...199,983. A quick exercise in mental math revealed that I had 17 miles to go. I continued unabated at 68 miles per hour in a northeasterly direction to work.
...199,992. Traffic density started to increase as a few other interstates converged at my location. If this increase in traffic continues, I thought, I'll have a veery difficult time pulling over to take a picture of the odometer if the "big roll" occurs. 199,995....I trudge on.
...199,997. Only three miles to work and coincidentally, only three miles to the promised land. Will I have to drive a few laps around the parking lot to finish the job or will it have to wait until my trip home?
...199,999.0. I'm at the stop light right around the corner to work. This is going to be close...
...199,999.8. Should I try for the parking lot or should I wait? ehhhhh....crap. I quickly make a sudden change in my trip and veer down another a less traveled street to increase my chances at finding a spot along the side of the street so I could snap a picture of the odometer
...199,999.9. Stop light turned red. Damn. The anticipation is killing me.....there go the digits....slowly. Speed: 27 miles per hour.
...199,999.995. Okay, so odometers don't have two or three decimal digits but if they did, I would have had something to document during that 0.005 miles of road.
...200,000 FINALLY!!! The milestone was reached. I felt the power. It was the greatest natural high one can achieve legally.
As all the numbers finished their tumble, I paused briefly to reflect what me and wife have been through in our travels since the Grand AM's purchase. I put'er into gear and finished my trip to work. The next milestone: 225,000.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Our 100th Post
After roughly 15 months on the World Wide Web, all of us at Evening With Sabs now present our 100th posting. For parts of this post, I will try my hand at the ever-popular literary device:
FORESHADOWING. I hope this doesn't suck.
So I went to a Mardi Gras party over the weekend.
Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not Mr. Party-Guy but I do like to throw a few back and relax while talking about random topics ranging from the weather to American foreign policy.At the risk of someone reading this who was present at the party, I'm about to make an observation that is as esoteric as it is ambiguous.
For the very first time in my life, I have observed the strangest amalgam of person ever. There, at that party stood the exact cross between Edward James Olmos and Cousin Itt. Granted, others probably exist in the world but none as grizzled and as...well hairy. If you know who either of these famous individuals are then I need not go any further.
-----------------------------------------
Other random bits:
I nearly finished painting the basement on Sunday. That, in and of itself, isn't a big deal. But when you consider that on Saturday, I felt as if I was drugged into a state of ultimate lethargy due to exhaustion, painting a straight line was a feat analogous to walking a tightrope.
Baseball season is officially here. All players are now at spring training in either Arizona or Florida and I still have 16 inches of snow in my backyard.
On Thursday, a milestone will be reached that many wish to achieve someday and only a select few actually experience in their lifetime. More on this Friday or Saturday.
FORESHADOWING. I hope this doesn't suck.
So I went to a Mardi Gras party over the weekend.
Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not Mr. Party-Guy but I do like to throw a few back and relax while talking about random topics ranging from the weather to American foreign policy.At the risk of someone reading this who was present at the party, I'm about to make an observation that is as esoteric as it is ambiguous.
For the very first time in my life, I have observed the strangest amalgam of person ever. There, at that party stood the exact cross between Edward James Olmos and Cousin Itt. Granted, others probably exist in the world but none as grizzled and as...well hairy. If you know who either of these famous individuals are then I need not go any further.
-----------------------------------------
Other random bits:
I nearly finished painting the basement on Sunday. That, in and of itself, isn't a big deal. But when you consider that on Saturday, I felt as if I was drugged into a state of ultimate lethargy due to exhaustion, painting a straight line was a feat analogous to walking a tightrope.
Baseball season is officially here. All players are now at spring training in either Arizona or Florida and I still have 16 inches of snow in my backyard.
On Thursday, a milestone will be reached that many wish to achieve someday and only a select few actually experience in their lifetime. More on this Friday or Saturday.
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