Locust-pocust
January 30, 2009
Take one little insect that couldn’t hurt you if you swallowed it,* multiply it by billions, and what do you get?
A lot of terrified, starving humans in an empty desert.
Locust swarms are back in the news. I find them fascinating, mostly because, years back, Mom and I had our own swarming adventure with cicadas. It was a tireless, unrelenting orgy of bugs blanketing Kentucky and Tennesee, so loud you literally had to shout to be heard in a closed car, driving 60 mph down the highway.
Keeping a low profile
January 29, 2009
Have I ever mentioned that I *hate* computers?
I loathe every godforsaken neutron in their scummy little components. I despise the very ground upon which they crash. I spit on their buggy old firmware.
OK, now that’s out of my system…had a very interesting problem with Windows XP profiles this week.
May
January 26, 2009
May inches forward in her wheelchair, propelled by restless fingers that constantly fiddle, push, fiddle, push with the wheels. She doesn’t move fast or far but she never really stops, and so a conversation with her becomes a matter of matching her slow creep forward.
If you fall behind, May will rotate her head to face you, assuming almost impossible positions until her eyes can no longer capture yours. Then she’ll snap her head back, eyes front, and continue her conversation with the air, pushing relentlessly forward to freedom.
May expects you to keep up. And so you do. [Read more]
Thank you, Mid-Valley
January 25, 2009
Boy, did I have a great time.
I’d promised to give two lecture/demos to OGG chapters on color and transparency control in casting and pate de verre (a demo which, whimsically, I’ve decided to call “Intelligent Design.” Don’t gasp.). Between Dad’s accident, economy shifts and the sad, sad state of kilnlessness, I just didn’t see how I could keep that promise.
BTW, guys: There’s an updated casting resources list–just check the link at the top right of this page.
Max rides again…dammit
January 24, 2009
Sigh. I’m beginning to think that Max prefers riding to being ridden. Don’t we all…
Max started acting up again yesterday. The steering wheel would vibrate in my hand, or I’d think that the engine sounded a little rough…but when I’d pull over, turn off the radio and concentrate on it, everything appeared fine.
Steve-the-mechanic had said that Max’ new alternator and sensor might cause him to exhibit odd behaviors for the next 300 miles or so “as the computer settles in. And if it does,” he warned, “call me right then and get him in. We won’t charge you to put the car through diagnostics again. But electrical systems are complicated and if there’s something we missed, this is when it’s going to show up.”
So…did this stuff count as an odd behavior? [Read more]
6n6: Photographers
January 21, 2009
For anyone who says photography is not fine art, take a look at these 12 artists, in no particular order.
6 living
- Annie Liebowitz: I can’t say I always love her stuff, but I’m always moved to think about it.
- Michael Durham: Nature with nothing cute about it
- James Nachtwey: Moving modern social photography to rival Eugene Smith
- Steve McCurry: Remember that fabulous National Geographic cover of the Afghan girl with the piercing eyes? That was him.
- Lisa M. Robinson: She’s relatively new on the scene, but her landscapes are stunning, especially her “Snowbound” series.
- Elliott Erwitt: Pure dry wit as photographic commentary
6 dead
- Weegee (Usher Fellig): Ironic depiction of the human condition
- Edward Weston: The nude (and how much nudes resemble vegetables)
- Edward Steichen: Amazing technique
- Henri Cartier-Bresson: Perfect composition with incredible graphic line
- Fred Holland-Day: As much for his elevation of photography to art as anything else.
- Eugene Smith: Some of the most moving social photography ever shot.
Markus with a “K”
January 21, 2009
There was a different guy by the side of the 205 ramp yesterday, and this one was doing a kind of dance with his sign. He swept it out front, twirled it, pulled it back behind his head and then, dodge-parry-THRUST, shoved it out at the waiting cars.
From the looks of it, he’d torn the sign from an old cardboard box, hastily inscribing this message with colored markers:
BET YOU
CAN’T HIT ME WITH
A QUARTER!!!!!
Shearing and shorn
January 20, 2009
The guy in the brand new Lexus pulled up to the curb. He wasn’t supposed to park there, but he got out, left the car running, and used his cardkey to slip inside the building.
He emerged a few moments later with a box full of office tschotkes, shoved it into the back seat and turned to grab another. I nodded and smiled; he didn’t smile back. He stared fixedly at the ground, groped blindly for the keys and finally drove off.
Layoff day.
Making the iPhone phone
January 18, 2009
After my rant about iPhone woes the other day, my buddy Ed sent me a note: “…after you get rid of the I-phone. I love my Macs but would never put up with the mess you keep telling us about. Buying a back up phone, phooey!”
Hmmm. Right after that, when I’d reconnected to her for the third time, a friend said, “You know what? Don’t call me on that thing anymore. Just wait till you get to a landline.”
OK. Something had to be done. AT&T insisted that it wasn’t THEIR fault, it was Apple’s, so I called Apple.
Pho Thanh (Vietnamese)
January 18, 2009
- Restaurant directions (can’t find a website)
- Location: Vancouver, WA
- Price to lunch two (with plenty of leftovers): $20
There’s a little Vietnamese place across from the Arlington County Courthouse, near Washington DC, which serves the hands-down best eggrolls on the planet. A Pho restaurant on the outskirts of Alphabet City in Manhattan makes noodle soups to die for at embarrassingly low prices. And a Vietnamese beef-with-baguette stew served on the Rue Verneuil in Paris still has me dreaming, years later.
Pho Thanh in Vancouver isn’t quite of that caliber, but it’s pretty daggone good. It’s also a bit of a surprise; Mom and I stopped there for lunch after visiting Dad, who’s still laid up in the rehab center with all his broken bones and physical therapy stuff. “I didn’t even know this was here,” said my mother, “We’ll have to come back.”
Yup.
This is a strip-mall place that looks a bit seedy, but inside is bright, airy and clean. The staff is exceedingly friendly and anxious to explain Vietnamese cuisine–three different smiling employees stopped to instruct us in which sauces, leaves and sprouts should go in the soup. The menu choices range from “beginner” to “specialty” stuff that includes what I call American Iffies, i.e., tripe, soft-boiled quail eggs and similar stuff that American tummies can find queasy-making.
We split an order of my favorite, salad rolls packed with crab and raw vegetables. They were on the large-ish side, nothing fancy at all, but there really doesn’t have to be when the ingredients are fresh, and these were. “This is all I need for the whole meal,” Mom said, “Thank heavens I got the small bowl of soup.”
I grinned but didn’t say anything and, sure enough, Mom’s basin of chicken soup was big enough for a family of four. She looked at it in dismay; the waiter assured her that they had BIG containers for leftovers. It was quite good, filled with solid pieces of chicken and tiny rice noodles with the requisite plate of mix-in sauces, herbs and crispy bean sprouts.
I prefer kitchen sink-style phos, and the one I ordered complied, with a well-flavored broth and chunks of surimi, fish, pork, tripe, quail eggs, beef, chicken and probably a dozen other things I’m leaving out. It also came with my favorite big, fat rice noodles, beautifully translucent and looking like tentacles in the soup.
It was very nicely prepared and, if it didn’t exactly transport me to raving ecstasy, was quite good. I managed about a third before giving up and asking for a doggie bag. We reheated the rest for dinner and it was almost as good the second time around.
We didn’t try the beef dishes, the vermicelli stuff, the eggrolls or any of dozens of other tasty-looking treats. Sigh. I guess we’ll just have to go back again. 