I bought a bunch of those LED Christmas lights the other day, but I haven't put them up yet. Some of my neighbors have them, though.
The good news is that you can string twenty or more sets together on a single outlet. At least, I guess that's good news. The bad news, at least from my point of view, is that the lights have a lot of blue in them so that they create a kind of cold, 'ice palace' look.
If you're here in town, go to Wilshire Boulevard and drive east from Penn toward Western (this is Nichols Hills). The Kuykendall chateau and a nearby home are done up in old-fashioned incandescent lights, which have a warm yellow cast with a bit of orange in them. Then the next homes down the street have the LED lights. The difference is striking, at least to me.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Black Friday
Everyone has heard by now about the Long Island Wal-Mart employee trampled to death during the Black Friday consumer surge. Here at home, the local paper had photos of shoppers charging through the front door of a small town Wal-Mart as the doors opened at 4:30 am, and a picture of tents set up outside a Best Buy, where shoppers spent the night in near-freezing temperatures to be first in line Friday morning.
How did America program people to be this desperate to go shopping? I remember in the early eighties when we reporters first began telling people – incorrectly, as it turned out – that the day after Thanksgiving was the busiest shopping day of the year. By the time that urban myth got straightened out, Black Friday had been elevated to some sort of national observance, far surpassing the first pitch of the baseball season and even many legal holidays.
I buy more stuff than I should, but even I can't fathom this overwrought worship of loss leaders and bait-and-switches.
I try to visualize how these kinds of stories play overseas, where we've tried to present ourselves as the world's moral leader. A person trampled to death by shoppers? A tent city of people desperate for a big-screen TV? This is the kind of stuff that makes the rest of the world think we're all just materialistic consumer zombies.
How did America program people to be this desperate to go shopping? I remember in the early eighties when we reporters first began telling people – incorrectly, as it turned out – that the day after Thanksgiving was the busiest shopping day of the year. By the time that urban myth got straightened out, Black Friday had been elevated to some sort of national observance, far surpassing the first pitch of the baseball season and even many legal holidays.
I buy more stuff than I should, but even I can't fathom this overwrought worship of loss leaders and bait-and-switches.
I try to visualize how these kinds of stories play overseas, where we've tried to present ourselves as the world's moral leader. A person trampled to death by shoppers? A tent city of people desperate for a big-screen TV? This is the kind of stuff that makes the rest of the world think we're all just materialistic consumer zombies.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
The big rock
with special guest dog Lucy, who is staying with me while Ms. Landscape Person attends a Thanksgiving family get-together.
Photo by Nurse K.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Another random note...
I saw a bird at the feeder Tuesday that looked like a cockatiel that I guess could have escaped from someone's house.
The red-headed woodpecker was back as well, wondering WTF that huge rock was doing in the back yard.
The red-headed woodpecker was back as well, wondering WTF that huge rock was doing in the back yard.
On second thought...
You know, this big rock may not have been the best idea I ever had.
It's kind of like having a 3,000 pound sofa in the middle of your living room. It's not very rearrangeable.
It's kind of like having a 3,000 pound sofa in the middle of your living room. It's not very rearrangeable.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
A couple of random notes
Big Rock
My big rock arrived today. (I have pictures, but I'm too lazy to fetch them off the camera.) It's a 3,000 pound boulder that I bought (for less than you might think) to use as a bench in the backyard. But once the delivery guy got into place with the forklift, I wasn't all that happy with it. I may move it to another spot in the yard. That will mean calling the forklift guy back, but I don't think I'm going to be satisfied with it where it is. A consultation with Ms. Landscape Person is in order.
Big Helmet
After years of riding with too-small bike helmets jammed onto my head, I finally found helmets that fit me: the Bell Triton and the Giro Atlas. I wear a size eight hat - 64 centimeters in circumference. ("You always did have a funny-shaped head," my dear stepmother told me on my most recent visit, "but I wusn't gonna say nuthin'.") The Triton can be adjusted up to 66cm and the Atlas to only 63. But both feel almost exactly the same to me.
My big rock arrived today. (I have pictures, but I'm too lazy to fetch them off the camera.) It's a 3,000 pound boulder that I bought (for less than you might think) to use as a bench in the backyard. But once the delivery guy got into place with the forklift, I wasn't all that happy with it. I may move it to another spot in the yard. That will mean calling the forklift guy back, but I don't think I'm going to be satisfied with it where it is. A consultation with Ms. Landscape Person is in order.
Big Helmet
After years of riding with too-small bike helmets jammed onto my head, I finally found helmets that fit me: the Bell Triton and the Giro Atlas. I wear a size eight hat - 64 centimeters in circumference. ("You always did have a funny-shaped head," my dear stepmother told me on my most recent visit, "but I wusn't gonna say nuthin'.") The Triton can be adjusted up to 66cm and the Atlas to only 63. But both feel almost exactly the same to me.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Woodpeckers
There's a red-headed woodpecker at my bird feeder. I've never seen one except in photos.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Antisocial behavior
Someone suggested the other day that my iPhone is making me more antisocial. I go to the coffee shop, and instead of talking to other people, I sit and play iPhone games or surf the web.
The truth is I'm not much of a conversationalist and most of the time I prefer to just listen.
I also often prefer to be around an ad hoc social group without being a part of it.
My social life is much busier now than it has been in years past. At my last job, one of my coworkers was astonished to learn that I usually ate lunch alone. Three years later, it's normal for me to eat lunch with others.
I spent most of my adolescence and adult years alone. I had few friends. Most evenings I stayed home and read, and for a while, watched TV. My ingrained preference is to be antisocial. It still requires some effort for me to go out and be with other people.
The truth is I'm not much of a conversationalist and most of the time I prefer to just listen.
I also often prefer to be around an ad hoc social group without being a part of it.
My social life is much busier now than it has been in years past. At my last job, one of my coworkers was astonished to learn that I usually ate lunch alone. Three years later, it's normal for me to eat lunch with others.
I spent most of my adolescence and adult years alone. I had few friends. Most evenings I stayed home and read, and for a while, watched TV. My ingrained preference is to be antisocial. It still requires some effort for me to go out and be with other people.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Tuesday
They finished demolishing my garage today. Pictures to follow when I'm not blogging from my iPhone.
Also, my bathtub drain seems to have been leaking, so I can start dealing with that when other stuff is out of the way.
Ms. Landscape Person has agreed to also serve as Ms. Home Rehab Person, so I'll be looking forward to her input.
Also, my bathtub drain seems to have been leaking, so I can start dealing with that when other stuff is out of the way.
Ms. Landscape Person has agreed to also serve as Ms. Home Rehab Person, so I'll be looking forward to her input.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Heat
I finally turned the heat on this evening. It's supposed to get down to freezing tonight. I can always wrap myself up in blankets. During the 2002 power outage, I stayed here for 11 nights, with lows in the twenties, and just stayed under the blankets to keep warm.
But I thought the cats might like it a little warmer.
I also need to bring a bunch of potted plants in.
But I thought the cats might like it a little warmer.
I also need to bring a bunch of potted plants in.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Thursday
I haven't been writing much lately, because frankly, I don't have much to write. Days go by. I wake up, go to the Cup, go to lunch. I come home and sit in the back yard awhile. Sometimes I go to the store and buy bird seed.
Feeding the birds reminds me of summers with my grandmother. I always looked forward to staying with her. She had a huge front yard, and jays, robins, sparrows and cardinals would come visit. Grackles were not common here then as they are now.
My grandmother once found a female cardinal with a broken wing. She brought the bird in and put it in a cage to protect it from dogs and cats. It lived as a pet for another two years.
My grandmother didn't feed the squirrels like I do. You can tell which squirrels in the neighborhood come to my back yard because they're all fat. I believe in leaving no squirrel behind.
We've had some tragedy in my neighborhood recently. I wrote previously about Josh, the handyman with the economics degree who took his own life a few weeks ago. Last Friday, we lost Jeremy. Those of you who live here in my town read the news about the young man who was shot dead in an apartment complex parking lot for however much money a pizza delivery man carries on him. That was Jeremy. Like Josh, he had previously worked at the coffee shop. Like Josh, he had a lot more going on in his life than the nature of his second job might lead you to believe.
Josh and Jeremy were both in their mid-twenties, and shared more or less the same circle of friends — a lot of folks for whom sudden loss is still a mostly unfamiliar experience.
Although I've never lost a friend to deliberate violence, I'm at the age where several of my friends have died suddenly and prematurely — heart attacks, leukemia, traffic accidents, drug overdoses. And I saw enough aftermath of violence as a reporter to know that there is a crazy/violent subculture out there, which some, like Jeremy, have been unfortunate enough to encounter first-hand. (Of course, there are other people who don't bump into it unknowingly, as Jeremy did, but seek it out — witness the Tulsa woman who traveled to south Louisiana to be murdered at her own Ku Klux Klan initiation.)
The older you get, the more aware you are of your own frailty and mortality, and that of your friends and loved ones. And when you hear that someone you know has died, of whatever cause, the less surprised you are. You already know what the sense of loss feels like; it's no longer new terrain. You recognize the stages of grief as they come, and maybe even learn to fast-forward through a few.
That's not wisdom... it's just part of the experience of getting older.
By the time she was my age, my grandmother — the one who adopted the injured cardinal — was reading the obituaries every day.
Feeding the birds reminds me of summers with my grandmother. I always looked forward to staying with her. She had a huge front yard, and jays, robins, sparrows and cardinals would come visit. Grackles were not common here then as they are now.
My grandmother once found a female cardinal with a broken wing. She brought the bird in and put it in a cage to protect it from dogs and cats. It lived as a pet for another two years.
My grandmother didn't feed the squirrels like I do. You can tell which squirrels in the neighborhood come to my back yard because they're all fat. I believe in leaving no squirrel behind.
We've had some tragedy in my neighborhood recently. I wrote previously about Josh, the handyman with the economics degree who took his own life a few weeks ago. Last Friday, we lost Jeremy. Those of you who live here in my town read the news about the young man who was shot dead in an apartment complex parking lot for however much money a pizza delivery man carries on him. That was Jeremy. Like Josh, he had previously worked at the coffee shop. Like Josh, he had a lot more going on in his life than the nature of his second job might lead you to believe.
Josh and Jeremy were both in their mid-twenties, and shared more or less the same circle of friends — a lot of folks for whom sudden loss is still a mostly unfamiliar experience.
Although I've never lost a friend to deliberate violence, I'm at the age where several of my friends have died suddenly and prematurely — heart attacks, leukemia, traffic accidents, drug overdoses. And I saw enough aftermath of violence as a reporter to know that there is a crazy/violent subculture out there, which some, like Jeremy, have been unfortunate enough to encounter first-hand. (Of course, there are other people who don't bump into it unknowingly, as Jeremy did, but seek it out — witness the Tulsa woman who traveled to south Louisiana to be murdered at her own Ku Klux Klan initiation.)
The older you get, the more aware you are of your own frailty and mortality, and that of your friends and loved ones. And when you hear that someone you know has died, of whatever cause, the less surprised you are. You already know what the sense of loss feels like; it's no longer new terrain. You recognize the stages of grief as they come, and maybe even learn to fast-forward through a few.
That's not wisdom... it's just part of the experience of getting older.
By the time she was my age, my grandmother — the one who adopted the injured cardinal — was reading the obituaries every day.
Monday, November 10, 2008
The new cat
I was browsing the city animal shelter web page the other day, and saw a cat on there who bore a striking resemblance to Mijimoto, one of my hang-around cats who disappeared a few months ago. On the off chance it was actually her, I drove to the shelter for a first-hand look.
As it turned out, the cat who may or may not have been Miji had already been adopted. But while I was there, I spotted another cat that I decided to get a closer look at.
Our shelter is set up with a series of 'living rooms' for the cats, complete with household furniture and accessories. There are three or four cats in each room, with plenty of room to walk around, sleep or whatever, and visitors can go into any room and see if they can make friends with the cats. So I did, and this cat and I hit it right off.
So I paid the fee and brought him home, and here he is.
The animal shelter had named him 'Max,' which didn't appeal to me. So I named him 'Roland.'
I took that pic with my iPhone, so it's not a Nikon-quality shot. Even so, I think you'll see he bears a passing resemblance to the immortal Beasley, seen below:
Up close, they don't look that much alike. The markings are almost identical but the physiognomy and body shape are different. Beasley had a more triangular head, and shorter neck and legs. His legs were so short, in fact, that he couldn't actually run. He had to sort of hop along like a rabbit.
Roland has a rounder face and longer legs.
I'm sure, though, that the similarity in appearance is what caught my attention in the shelter. And I know I violated all the 'pet grief rules' by bringing home a cat that so closely resembles Beas.
But here's the deal: Roland seems to actually like me, and to like people in general. I have other cats here, and they tolerate me to varying degrees, dependent largely on how hungry they are at the moment. Roland will hang out with me even when he's not hungry.
So I'm hoping Roland and I will have a long and happy relationship.
As it turned out, the cat who may or may not have been Miji had already been adopted. But while I was there, I spotted another cat that I decided to get a closer look at.
Our shelter is set up with a series of 'living rooms' for the cats, complete with household furniture and accessories. There are three or four cats in each room, with plenty of room to walk around, sleep or whatever, and visitors can go into any room and see if they can make friends with the cats. So I did, and this cat and I hit it right off.
So I paid the fee and brought him home, and here he is.
The animal shelter had named him 'Max,' which didn't appeal to me. So I named him 'Roland.'
I took that pic with my iPhone, so it's not a Nikon-quality shot. Even so, I think you'll see he bears a passing resemblance to the immortal Beasley, seen below:
Up close, they don't look that much alike. The markings are almost identical but the physiognomy and body shape are different. Beasley had a more triangular head, and shorter neck and legs. His legs were so short, in fact, that he couldn't actually run. He had to sort of hop along like a rabbit.
Roland has a rounder face and longer legs.
I'm sure, though, that the similarity in appearance is what caught my attention in the shelter. And I know I violated all the 'pet grief rules' by bringing home a cat that so closely resembles Beas.
But here's the deal: Roland seems to actually like me, and to like people in general. I have other cats here, and they tolerate me to varying degrees, dependent largely on how hungry they are at the moment. Roland will hang out with me even when he's not hungry.
So I'm hoping Roland and I will have a long and happy relationship.
Friday, November 07, 2008
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Election Day
Well, today is election day.
I'm voting for the socialist terrorist Muslim Kenyan guy with the fake birth certificate.
I'm voting for the socialist terrorist Muslim Kenyan guy with the fake birth certificate.
Monday, November 03, 2008
You'd think...
...that being where I am in my life, with nothing to do and not much to think about, that I would be able to sit and let my mind be still. There's almost no place my mind needs to 'be.' But I still find myself looking for ways to occupy my mind, even if it's just sitting at the Red Cup.
I'd like to be able to sit on the deck all day, or even half a day, free of thoughts and concepts. But I still can't do that.
I'd like to be able to sit on the deck all day, or even half a day, free of thoughts and concepts. But I still can't do that.
Sunday, November 02, 2008
Happiness
I have to keep reminding myself of this: there is nothing I can do that will make me happy.
The important word in that sentence is do. I can't do anything that will make me happy. I can't buy anything, can't go anywhere, can't meet anyone, can't accomplish anything that will make me happy.
Because it doesn't work that way. It either comes from within, free of external connections and influences, or it doesn't come at all.
I still find myself thinking from time to time, "Wouldn't it be nice if ________________?" But none of those things would make me happy.
Besides, you know how I hate it when I'm happy.
The important word in that sentence is do. I can't do anything that will make me happy. I can't buy anything, can't go anywhere, can't meet anyone, can't accomplish anything that will make me happy.
Because it doesn't work that way. It either comes from within, free of external connections and influences, or it doesn't come at all.
I still find myself thinking from time to time, "Wouldn't it be nice if ________________?" But none of those things would make me happy.
Besides, you know how I hate it when I'm happy.
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Sycamores
I have picked up some sycamore tree seed balls, or whatever they're called, and planted them in pots. I hope to get a couple of seedlings from them. A neighborhood about a half-mile west of me has maybe two dozen sycamores lining several streets, and they add a lot to its character.
There are only a few small trees on my block. I hope I can get two seedlings to plant along the street.
There's a lot of development going on in my town these days, but I don't think the skyscraper has been designed that can match the beauty of a tree.
There are only a few small trees on my block. I hope I can get two seedlings to plant along the street.
There's a lot of development going on in my town these days, but I don't think the skyscraper has been designed that can match the beauty of a tree.
Rereading Wen-Tzu
I am rereading the chinese Taoist philosopher Wen-Tzu for maybe the sixth time. As I wrote a couple of years ago, his book is for me what the Books of Proverbs and Psalms are for many Christians.
I wish there was an online version to which I could direct you. There has been only one English translation, that of the prolific translator of eastern texts, Thomas Cleary.
I wish there was an online version to which I could direct you. There has been only one English translation, that of the prolific translator of eastern texts, Thomas Cleary.
Deep thought
My life is pretty serene during the day. It's only when I go to sleep that everything goes to shit.
Dream
Just awoke from another dream about tornadoes. Dreamt I was awakened by the sound of one hitting the house. It was too late to do anything useful to take cover — I hid behind the bed while it tore at the outside of the house. It finally passed without tearing any opening in the walls or roof.
Afterward, I went outside. I don't know where I was, but it was not my neighborhood. There were lots of people milling about, trying to call out on their cell phones. Some could get out and others couldn't. I was in the latter group.
Then there was young woman in her front yard, seemingly oblivious to the damage. She was smiling and working out with a small pair of dumbbells. I wondered what she was doing... then I woke up.
Afterward, I went outside. I don't know where I was, but it was not my neighborhood. There were lots of people milling about, trying to call out on their cell phones. Some could get out and others couldn't. I was in the latter group.
Then there was young woman in her front yard, seemingly oblivious to the damage. She was smiling and working out with a small pair of dumbbells. I wondered what she was doing... then I woke up.
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