Nerds For Words
Monday, April 23, 2007
Kite Instructions
¶ 2:22 PM 2 comments
Due to the immense amount of guilt I have been feeling all day (thank you, Ted), I am finally posting something. Goodtimes.
So, yesterday in Cleveland, it was a rare beautiful, perfect spring day. My husband and I decided to head out to one of the parks to fly a kite. Of course, we had to go buy one first but thats another story. Anyhoo, after many failed attempts to get the kite aloft, I sat pouting at a picnic table where I noticed the instructions on the kite packaging. After nearly shitting myself from laughing so hard, I took a picture of them and labled, what I thought, were the appropriate directions.
Here they are, in all their glory, for all kite flyers.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
The Chicken Man
In penance for not writing in forever, I offer up this little poem for your enjoyment.
Chicken Man
O chicken man, how art thou so prodigious?
thou has the size of a man, yet art thou whole chicken,
with feathers yellow and peaked crest of reddish hue,
rubbery orange feet.
Dost thou feed on corn or seed?
Dost thou need nest to raise thy brood?
Dost thou gobble, then void thy food
in oozy liquid, the filth of birds?
Chicken man, chicken man
you weigh more than a garbage can,
your credit score is low, my friend
but you still got your car loan, in the end
on account of the fact that American cars
are selling so poorly
and gas prices must go down soon, surely
so even a chicken man can
can a chicken man can a chicken man can can can can can
get a loan at a high interest rate with no downpayment!
Canst thou not fly, and are thy enormous wings
good only for deep frying, drenched
with buffalo wing sauce, dipped in cheese bleu,
the palate cleansed with crisp celery (a lot)?
O chicken man! Thou wast not so easily subdued
by ancient farmer's wife with designs
to wring thy neck. Thou runnest her over
with thy Range Rover and leaveth town.
And now where art thou to be found, thou vaunted?
Ye find thy place on America's Most Wanted!
poem by $J.Dolla.$ ¶ 6:53 AM 3 comments
In penance for not writing in forever, I offer up this little poem for your enjoyment.
Chicken Man
O chicken man, how art thou so prodigious?
thou has the size of a man, yet art thou whole chicken,
with feathers yellow and peaked crest of reddish hue,
rubbery orange feet.
Dost thou feed on corn or seed?
Dost thou need nest to raise thy brood?
Dost thou gobble, then void thy food
in oozy liquid, the filth of birds?
Chicken man, chicken man
you weigh more than a garbage can,
your credit score is low, my friend
but you still got your car loan, in the end
on account of the fact that American cars
are selling so poorly
and gas prices must go down soon, surely
so even a chicken man can
can a chicken man can a chicken man can can can can can
get a loan at a high interest rate with no downpayment!
Canst thou not fly, and are thy enormous wings
good only for deep frying, drenched
with buffalo wing sauce, dipped in cheese bleu,
the palate cleansed with crisp celery (a lot)?
O chicken man! Thou wast not so easily subdued
by ancient farmer's wife with designs
to wring thy neck. Thou runnest her over
with thy Range Rover and leaveth town.
And now where art thou to be found, thou vaunted?
Ye find thy place on America's Most Wanted!
poem by $J.Dolla.$ ¶ 6:53 AM 3 comments
Saturday, April 07, 2007
When I grow up.
¶ 7:47 PM 1 comments
It hit me this weekend that my heuristic model of adulthood was all wrong. I almost rememebr "kid-me" sitting there thinking about adulthood as the state where knowledge had been attained in sufficient quantity and quality to enable one to function as a self-directed being. Childhood, by contrast and the so-called "young adulthood" too were the period when a human goes out and acquires the knowledge that will serve them later.
It never ocurred to me then that learning was something that keeps on going.
It hit me this weekend when I was doing some planning for my vegetable garden. Gardening, like plumbing, and house repairs, was something I assumed that adults knew how to do, and children did not. So I was feeling like a "coming to it late" sort of fella since I am most decidely an adult, and I am also not nearly competent as a gardener. It felt almost like a secret I had to hide. Sort of like,
"I'm not really a gardener, but I'm trying to fake it."
So I started thinking,
"When do most people learn to garden?"
Most people get exposed to weeding and watering at an age where time and seasons are unrelated and totally inchoate. At 12 or 14 years old, the only seasons are summer vacation, school, thanksgiving break, christmas break and summer vacation again. So it is unlikely that a 12 year old would sit with dad or grandma and learn about the timing of planting pole beans vs bush beans, or that an early spring in climate Zone 6 is just a teaser; tomatoes never go in before May 1st. Corn either.
It wouldn't have beee learned in the late teens, when dilgence and patience and listenging to adults are virutes that are in short supply. I'm not sure that I actually learned anything in my teens. In hindsight it seems more like I was growing a brain and learning to use it, while carefully avoiding filling it with anything.
Early 20s..? When we were in college dorms, rental apartments? Not likely. I think I was a disaster to the whole phylum at that point.
Maybe late 20s? When we are dating seriously, getting married, starting families, working to get establishd in a carreer. Maybe for some.
So here I sit, in my early 30s. I learn a lot every day in spite of myself, and I appreciate that learning is a lifelong task. So maybe I'm coming to gardening at the perfect age. When I have finally mustered enough foresight to plan a garden, still have enough energy to build one, and have almost cultivated enough patience to tend one.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Season's greetingz
I tried to come up with a message that captures everything Easter represents to me: family, spirituality, the enthusiasm and sense of renewal that children lend to the occasion. I couldn't put it in words, so I thought a picture might be more appropriate. Sort of a Hallmark epiphany, if you will.
Here's what I came up with. See if you can help little Cindi find all the pretty eggs. I think there are five.
Happy Easter, everybunny! ¶ 11:54 PM 1 comments
Here's what I came up with. See if you can help little Cindi find all the pretty eggs. I think there are five.
Happy Easter, everybunny! ¶ 11:54 PM 1 comments
Thursday, April 05, 2007
What will it be like?
When I was living in France, a 16 year-old kid came up to me one night at a party and got in my face. He hated "les Etats-Unis", and he insisted that the only good thing coming out of the United States was some band that he liked. I think it was "The Pixies."
After calming him down a bit by not responding, I plumbed his anger a little bit more and let him get off of his chest all his hatred for the kid at the top of the mountain. At some point, he managed to slip in an idea that I have more or less had stuck in my head for 12 years. It was simple.
"Nothing lasts for ever", and chances are better than average that the U.S. will get what he considered its "comeupance" in my lifetime.
So 12 years has passed, the republic has gotten 12 years older, and my remaining life expectacny has decreased by maybe 10 or 10.5 years. So his comment would probably not be as true today, but at the time the US constitution had been in place for 204 years, and I could reasonable expect to live another 60.
Now I sit here wondering, what will the end look like? What can I do to prepare. Will it look like the last days in Austria before the Anschuss? Will it look like Zimbabwe today, or the decline of the Roman Empire? Will it be of natural causes like disease or famine, internal causes, environmental collapse? So many ideas floating around and all they do is get me scared. "Collapse" by Jared Diamon. I was in the Chicago airport and fingered a copy of Gibbon's, "Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire."
But mostly I wonder what can I do to prepare? Should I make sure I have 50 acres and a mule to grow my own food? Will gold bullion buy me food, shelter, protection? Will guns be handy, or will they be like lightning rods?
Is my best bet to hone physical skills, such as carpentry, basket weaving, farming? Or is letting go of the need for possessions, comfort and wealth a better avenue for providing an emotional shield? People can live through a lot. Genocide killed a million Rwandans, but people still live in Rwanda. People still have children in war torn countries, and I imagine they still laugh, cry, and do all those things that humans do.
Is the worst thing the fear? The fear of what environmental disaster will look like? The fear of what WW3 could be? The concern for what a life would be like without institutional freedom. Would there still be private freedom? Freedom inside my brain? Inside my heart?
I really want to let all these thoughts go. They don't make me happy. They don't prepare me. They don't really help me. But they interest me.
Could I stop feeling compelled to read international news, or follow national politics? Could I live in the moment like a child, and yet still do a competent job of being an adult? What does being a competent adult require? Any ideas here? Are we supposed to stay in jobs we don't love to earn more money than we really need? If I earn less than I'm capable of, have I wasted talent? If I'm less happy than I could be, have I wasted time?
Who is suppoesed to teach me how to live? ¶ 9:35 PM 0 comments
After calming him down a bit by not responding, I plumbed his anger a little bit more and let him get off of his chest all his hatred for the kid at the top of the mountain. At some point, he managed to slip in an idea that I have more or less had stuck in my head for 12 years. It was simple.
"Nothing lasts for ever", and chances are better than average that the U.S. will get what he considered its "comeupance" in my lifetime.
So 12 years has passed, the republic has gotten 12 years older, and my remaining life expectacny has decreased by maybe 10 or 10.5 years. So his comment would probably not be as true today, but at the time the US constitution had been in place for 204 years, and I could reasonable expect to live another 60.
Now I sit here wondering, what will the end look like? What can I do to prepare. Will it look like the last days in Austria before the Anschuss? Will it look like Zimbabwe today, or the decline of the Roman Empire? Will it be of natural causes like disease or famine, internal causes, environmental collapse? So many ideas floating around and all they do is get me scared. "Collapse" by Jared Diamon. I was in the Chicago airport and fingered a copy of Gibbon's, "Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire."
But mostly I wonder what can I do to prepare? Should I make sure I have 50 acres and a mule to grow my own food? Will gold bullion buy me food, shelter, protection? Will guns be handy, or will they be like lightning rods?
Is my best bet to hone physical skills, such as carpentry, basket weaving, farming? Or is letting go of the need for possessions, comfort and wealth a better avenue for providing an emotional shield? People can live through a lot. Genocide killed a million Rwandans, but people still live in Rwanda. People still have children in war torn countries, and I imagine they still laugh, cry, and do all those things that humans do.
Is the worst thing the fear? The fear of what environmental disaster will look like? The fear of what WW3 could be? The concern for what a life would be like without institutional freedom. Would there still be private freedom? Freedom inside my brain? Inside my heart?
I really want to let all these thoughts go. They don't make me happy. They don't prepare me. They don't really help me. But they interest me.
Could I stop feeling compelled to read international news, or follow national politics? Could I live in the moment like a child, and yet still do a competent job of being an adult? What does being a competent adult require? Any ideas here? Are we supposed to stay in jobs we don't love to earn more money than we really need? If I earn less than I'm capable of, have I wasted talent? If I'm less happy than I could be, have I wasted time?
Who is suppoesed to teach me how to live? ¶ 9:35 PM 0 comments
