It all started innocently enough.
A few minutes spent looking at a map, checking out what was between point A and point B.
That's all.
We had slack time built into the drive, it was through a part of the country we'd never seen before, so we checked out our battered atlas.
"Hey, Ripon's kind of on the way, and only about a half hour or so south of our destination. Let's route so that we can check it out."
We had a week to kill at our cabin rental in middle-of-nowhere, WI, and a potentially cool town, a half hour away, sounded like something we should investigate.
Really, if we'd been paying attention, we were given a warning before it was actually too late. But at the time, it just seemed like one of those things.
Directions from the mapping website told us to get off the main highway, 151, and onto a secondary highway, 26.
Which led us through miles of farm land until eventually, after 30+ minutes, bringing us back to... Hwy 151.
Yes, we were instructed to get off the highway, for the sole purpose of driving through nothing for 40+ minutes until we were BACK to the same highway from which we started.
But, we continued to follow the directions as outlined, even while commenting on how odd they had been thus far.
We had a plan, dammit.
And we were gonna stick to it.
5 miles further up highway 151, we were instructed to get off, and onto highway 26, AGAIN. And we did.
Because taking 151 straight to the interstate and onto our destination from THERE would be BORING, and we were on VACATION, and we wanted to SIGHT SEE, mapping website logic be damned....
Anyhow, our second time on highway 26 was uneventful, and we eventually ended up in Ripon, just like the print outs said we'd be.
And it looked like a cute town, worthy of a return visit, and life was good.
For a moment.
But the moment passed, and everything turned bad.
We exited the west side of Ripon, and were immediately back in remote farm country, without ever having seen any signs for highway 44. Highway 44 was our alleged hook up, so to speak. It went north out of Ripon, according to our directions and the atlas, and would eventually connect us to 116, a road I'd traveled on before, and one that would lead us straight to our destination.
Highway 44 did not appear to exist, in real life. We were out of town, and there was no signs for HWY 44, and we were headed west through more middle of nowhere without a plan.
My wife looked at the map.
"We'll be ok, I think." she said.
"About 5 miles up, there's a north south, #71, that should take us to to Hwy 21, which we can take back east to 116. "
We were still lighthearted about our drive, approaching the bad directions and lack of signs with good humour.
For another 5 miles, until we saw the sign that our road would be closed, just ahead, and we were to turn south to detour.
The lightheartedness ended, as we detoured south as directed, further away from our destination.
My wife, always the trooper, checked the map.
"No, no. I think we'll still be ok, because we should still cross 71, and we'll just be on it for a bit longer."
2 minutes later, we came to highway 71, and....It was closed, too.
"Well, hell." My navigator said.
"I'm out of ideas, we have to go back to Ripon."
And we did.
And the round trip to end up where we started? 35 minutes.
My daughter woke up from her nap as we were checking out the map for our next attempt to successfully leave Ripon and ultimately reach our destination.
"Are we at the cottage yet?" she sleepily asked.
"Nope." I answer.
"When will we be there?"
"Your guess is as good as mine, darlin."
My navigator looked up from the map.
"County Road F heads NE out of Berlin, and will eventually run into Hwy 21....."
Which I know will lead to Omro, where I can pick up 116 to Winneconne....
Let's do it!
Except once I was on what appeared to be County Road F, it meandered in a SE direction, until we found ourselves... Back in Ripon.
I made a terse joke about how it was actually County Road FU....
For those keeping score.... 45 more minutes to end up back where we started... again.
We
Could
Not
Get
Out
Of
Ripon.
And it was beginning to be a bit unnerving, for a guy that prides himself on finding places, picking the right routes, knowing what direction I'm going, all the time....
I grew up on Stephen King novels and old Twilight Zone episodes, and I'd just ended up back in the same town for the 3rd time, unable to leave it.....
My mind started to wander.
Would we discover that the town itself was evil, and preyed on random travelers?
Would I come across a huge fertilizer plant with car carriers full of out of state cars parked out front, and make the horrifying realization that WE were the fertilizer?
Would I have to steal WI license plates to disguise my car from the local sheriff and his men (all possessed by a long buried demon of course), long enough to escape via some random country road to god-knows-where?
"Are we there yet?" my daughter asked again, pulling me back from my thoughts of demons and evil in America's heartland.
Another literary influence popped into my mind, and I started to smile.
I thought about Winnie The Pooh.
The story where Pooh, Piglet and Rabbit were lost, and kept on ending up at the same sand pit, when looking for a way home.
Pooh, the bear with very little brain, decided they should try to find the sand pit again, instead of a path out of the woods, and by doing so, guarantee that the would not end up back at the sand pit...
In other words, they should stop looking for a way out of the woods.
"That road, right there. It heads north, and looks like a major road." I tell my wife, as I put the car back in gear, and head out of the parking lot of the empty store where we had stopped to look at the map again.
.
"Ok..."
"We're taking it."
"To where?" My wife asks.
"Does it really matter at this point?" I ask in return.
I threw the Pooh reference at her, she laughed.
2 miles up the random road, we found out we were on HWY 44, the very road we needed to be on in the first place.
Lightheartedness returned.
Music was turned back on.
When my daughter asked me "When will we be there?" a minute later, I could actually give her an answer.
Hwy 44 did exactly what the map said it was supposed to do. We continued on without incident.
Our 2 hour trip did, in fact, take more than 4 hours.
We decided we did not need to visit Ripon again, though we figured we'd end up back there at some point, completely by accident.
But I was comforted in the knowledge that when this DOES happen, I now know what NOT to do to fix it.
Thanks Pooh.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Friday, June 24, 2011
Three O'clock High, and notes on "Trying"
Buddy Revell: You know what Mitchell? You're the biggest #$#^%^& I've ever seen in my life. You didn't even try. How does that FEEL?
Watched a great, if tragically overlooked, film a few nights ago, On Demand.
Three O’Clock High.
A story about a pretty regular high school kid who manages to piss off the new-to-school bully before 9am, and spends the rest of the day going to ridiculous extremes to avoid having to fight him after school.
Pretty basic plot, but was done in a very entertaining manner. Great little nuances, like how the camera flashes to the clock with increasing frequency as 3pm draws near. Or the fact that Buddy may be a hyper-violent psychopath, but is also secretly a bright student. Add to this some minor characters that don’t quite fit into the John Hughes mold, and other creative camera work, and it was a pleasure to watch.
It ends up being not so much a story about a day in the life of a high school kid, as it is a story about how your life can change, when you decide to man up, so to speak, and simply… try.
From a movie pacing standpoint, the referenced quote’s the midpoint. The Main character was going in one (very bad) direction right up until this point. Then he switches gears / goals - the actual plot changes.
It didn’t strike a big chord with me, when I as 21 and probably not 100% sober and watched it one night at the dump I shared with three other guys at college. It was just a movie, y’know?
But watching it from my current perspective, it resonated.
All the important shit, the big stuff, the A-list things in my life that I value.., they were HARD.
It would have been much easier, at each turn, to not put myself out there, so to speak. Less scary, too.
But if I hadn’t have even tried, I’d probably not have my wife, nor my daughter (certainly not my daughter), nor the job I have.
As examples.
I wish I’d have been so wise, when I was 17, 19, 22….
Switching gears a bit, I’ve a class reunion coming up.
The end of this movie reminded me of something that happened 25, maybe 26 years ago.
There was a guy who showed up for one year. This was not unusual. Our school collected the odd guys; someone who needed a change of venue from wherever they had been going to school. Usually it was an issue of hoping that our school would provide more discipline for the person. Those people rarely stuck around.
Other times, like in the case of Eric, I’d guess someone had hoped that he’d be treated nicer in a smaller, more stable environment…..
He was a dork.
That’s my 17 year old brain memory of him. Goofy, didn’t dress very well, didn’t do particularly well academically, didn’t have very good social skills, bad skin…
My 43 year old brain can assume that by the time he got to us, he was used to playing a role, filling an un-desirable spot on the food chain. We were not his first rodeo.
He suffered through the year, not a lot of friends, probably getting picked on by those who enjoyed that sort of thing. And then it was the last day of school, and he was free of us.
You’d expect a quiet exit, maybe, a sigh of relief as he slides into his car and drives out of the parking lot for the last time.
Nope.
In the parking lot, after school, he gets into a fist fight with one of his biggest tormentors.
And even though he had to have known he was going to lose, he stepped up.
He… tried.
Of course he lost the fight. And he drove out of the parking lot for the last time sore and bloodied. I can only hope that he did so with some pride, having met the adversity head on.
Maybe it changed his life for the better, the notion that a bloody nose, real or metaphorical, stops hurting and bleeding after a bit, but the results of NOT trying can last you a lifetime.
Hiding from your problems can become a lifestyle…
I’m probably over-analyzing it, and over-romanticizing the event.
I’ll let you make up your own mind about that.
And to be honest, I’d not thought about it all for 25 years, until after watching the movie again.
I hope I’m right, though, and that Eric ended up doing well in his life.
Oh, and watch the movie already. It's worth 90 minutes of your life.
Watched a great, if tragically overlooked, film a few nights ago, On Demand.
Three O’Clock High.
A story about a pretty regular high school kid who manages to piss off the new-to-school bully before 9am, and spends the rest of the day going to ridiculous extremes to avoid having to fight him after school.
Pretty basic plot, but was done in a very entertaining manner. Great little nuances, like how the camera flashes to the clock with increasing frequency as 3pm draws near. Or the fact that Buddy may be a hyper-violent psychopath, but is also secretly a bright student. Add to this some minor characters that don’t quite fit into the John Hughes mold, and other creative camera work, and it was a pleasure to watch.
It ends up being not so much a story about a day in the life of a high school kid, as it is a story about how your life can change, when you decide to man up, so to speak, and simply… try.
From a movie pacing standpoint, the referenced quote’s the midpoint. The Main character was going in one (very bad) direction right up until this point. Then he switches gears / goals - the actual plot changes.
It didn’t strike a big chord with me, when I as 21 and probably not 100% sober and watched it one night at the dump I shared with three other guys at college. It was just a movie, y’know?
But watching it from my current perspective, it resonated.
All the important shit, the big stuff, the A-list things in my life that I value.., they were HARD.
It would have been much easier, at each turn, to not put myself out there, so to speak. Less scary, too.
But if I hadn’t have even tried, I’d probably not have my wife, nor my daughter (certainly not my daughter), nor the job I have.
As examples.
I wish I’d have been so wise, when I was 17, 19, 22….
Switching gears a bit, I’ve a class reunion coming up.
The end of this movie reminded me of something that happened 25, maybe 26 years ago.
There was a guy who showed up for one year. This was not unusual. Our school collected the odd guys; someone who needed a change of venue from wherever they had been going to school. Usually it was an issue of hoping that our school would provide more discipline for the person. Those people rarely stuck around.
Other times, like in the case of Eric, I’d guess someone had hoped that he’d be treated nicer in a smaller, more stable environment…..
He was a dork.
That’s my 17 year old brain memory of him. Goofy, didn’t dress very well, didn’t do particularly well academically, didn’t have very good social skills, bad skin…
My 43 year old brain can assume that by the time he got to us, he was used to playing a role, filling an un-desirable spot on the food chain. We were not his first rodeo.
He suffered through the year, not a lot of friends, probably getting picked on by those who enjoyed that sort of thing. And then it was the last day of school, and he was free of us.
You’d expect a quiet exit, maybe, a sigh of relief as he slides into his car and drives out of the parking lot for the last time.
Nope.
In the parking lot, after school, he gets into a fist fight with one of his biggest tormentors.
And even though he had to have known he was going to lose, he stepped up.
He… tried.
Of course he lost the fight. And he drove out of the parking lot for the last time sore and bloodied. I can only hope that he did so with some pride, having met the adversity head on.
Maybe it changed his life for the better, the notion that a bloody nose, real or metaphorical, stops hurting and bleeding after a bit, but the results of NOT trying can last you a lifetime.
Hiding from your problems can become a lifestyle…
I’m probably over-analyzing it, and over-romanticizing the event.
I’ll let you make up your own mind about that.
And to be honest, I’d not thought about it all for 25 years, until after watching the movie again.
I hope I’m right, though, and that Eric ended up doing well in his life.
Oh, and watch the movie already. It's worth 90 minutes of your life.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
A man in a car....
The man dropped off his wife and daughter at the pool, and headed back out into the world with a list of errands. His vacation starts in one week, and there's stuff to be done. Further, he's...exhausted.
Just whipped.
Beat Down.
His daughter had a really bad night, sleep wise, and this means he did, too.
He's on his way to get the Subaru's oil changed, when he realizes the car in front of him is not really driving very well.
"Clown." The irritable man mutters. They stop at a stop light, and when itturns green, the car in front does not go.
"C'mon, you $%$#%^ clown!" he says, more loudly.
The car in front of him finally takes off. The man looks around, to see if there's a way around the car in front, before they get to the next light, where he'll have to turn left.
Nope.
He watches the car in front of him weave slightly, as balloons blow around inside of it, obstructing the other driver's view. He's not at all pleased.
"Please go straight, please go straight" he thinks to himself, as they approach the next stop light.
Nope. The car in front of him slowly eases into the turn lane in front of him. He watches the driver adjust the rearview so that she can look at herself in it. He gets angrier when he sees her lean out the driverside window, to check herself out in the side mirror.
"no way this #$^& clown's paying attention to the light." he says aloud, hand poised and at the ready on the horn.
Sure enough, the turn arrow flashes on, and all the traffic in front of the woman moves, while she does not.
"C'mon, you #@$%$%^& clown, GO!!!!" he says, as he hits his horn once, briefly.
And she does, and he does, and they both make the light, and he whips into the right lane to get past her, still upset.
As he passes, he takes a quick glance over at her, and begins to laugh.
Her face was covered in white grease paint, with a large smile painted on.
That's right, my friends. The " #@$%$%& clown" really was... a clown.
Just whipped.
Beat Down.
His daughter had a really bad night, sleep wise, and this means he did, too.
He's on his way to get the Subaru's oil changed, when he realizes the car in front of him is not really driving very well.
"Clown." The irritable man mutters. They stop at a stop light, and when itturns green, the car in front does not go.
"C'mon, you $%$#%^ clown!" he says, more loudly.
The car in front of him finally takes off. The man looks around, to see if there's a way around the car in front, before they get to the next light, where he'll have to turn left.
Nope.
He watches the car in front of him weave slightly, as balloons blow around inside of it, obstructing the other driver's view. He's not at all pleased.
"Please go straight, please go straight" he thinks to himself, as they approach the next stop light.
Nope. The car in front of him slowly eases into the turn lane in front of him. He watches the driver adjust the rearview so that she can look at herself in it. He gets angrier when he sees her lean out the driverside window, to check herself out in the side mirror.
"no way this #$^& clown's paying attention to the light." he says aloud, hand poised and at the ready on the horn.
Sure enough, the turn arrow flashes on, and all the traffic in front of the woman moves, while she does not.
"C'mon, you #@$%$%^& clown, GO!!!!" he says, as he hits his horn once, briefly.
And she does, and he does, and they both make the light, and he whips into the right lane to get past her, still upset.
As he passes, he takes a quick glance over at her, and begins to laugh.
Her face was covered in white grease paint, with a large smile painted on.
That's right, my friends. The " #@$%$%& clown" really was... a clown.
Monday, June 13, 2011
the girl who played with fire
Was briefly talking books with folks yesterday, and The Girl who played with Fire came up.
actually, the trilogy came up, and I likely confused titles with plots, but.... just continue reading.
I recalled that I forced myself to finish it, whilst one of the people I was talking to, admitted that she didn't finish it.
I know I frequently miss why a mediocre-at-best book is actually secretly a brilliant work of fiction; so it was good to know that at least one other person didn't get into this one, either.
Here's my review / plot synopsis for the book.
Some little tiny girl named Svenson, with a big tattoo and a brand new boob job, has a troubled past, and is treated poorly by men, all of which were named Svenson, or perhaps Sverngensen. She's framed for a crime against someone named Svenson (or perhaps Svergensen, a writer who was about to release an expose about someone named Svenson, and is pursued by the local police, all of which were named...Svenson. There was a dirty cop, however. His name might have been Svergensen.
The lead male protagonist, Svenson, does not believe that Svenson / Svergensen the tattoo'd girl committed the crime against Svenson, and does what he can to help prove this, whilst nailing his boss, Svergensen. He thinks she's troubled, and maladjusted, and maybe dangerous, but not a killer of anyone named Svenson. Oh, he nailed her, too, before he started nailing his boss. The bosses maiden name? Svenson, I believe. They work together at a newspaper or magazine, which I'm pretty sure was called Svenson Weekly.
Their office was located on Svergensen Blvd.
Oh, and the dwarvish tattoo'd chick with new boobs? all she has to do is put on a wig, and she's unrecognizable by the entire population of whatever country she lives in.
And there was lots of stopping off at 7-11 for random meals, and a trip to Ikea to furnish a big, shiny apartment, likely located on Svenson street. Noone knows she lives there.
We spend more time reading about the Ikea trip, than we would actually spend... in Ikea.
And then Svenson Svenson Svergemsen Svenson Svergensen Svenson Svenson......
The book was at it's best early on, before the plot moved back to whatever scandinvian country in which the main plot took place. Early on, there was action on a tropical island, populated by people with different, non-interchangable last names. I could keep track without graph paper.
And the author didn't feel it was necessary to mention that they all stopped off at the island's convenience store for food.
Of COURSE I exaggerate.
But only a little.
If you're going to translate a novel into a different language, spend more than 5 minutes @ babelfish.com to do it.
Having it properly edited up front would help a great deal as well.
The US equivalent would have been set in Atlanta. All the characters would have had the word "Peach" or "Peachtree" in their names, their addresses, etc.
At least one of them would have had the nickname "Peachy" or "Peaches". There would have been many random, non-plot related mentions of stopping off at the Piggly Wiggly for vaguely named food items.
And after it became huge, it would be translated into many different languages, and some snarky, lazy-minded reader will mock it.
And rightfully so.
actually, the trilogy came up, and I likely confused titles with plots, but.... just continue reading.
I recalled that I forced myself to finish it, whilst one of the people I was talking to, admitted that she didn't finish it.
I know I frequently miss why a mediocre-at-best book is actually secretly a brilliant work of fiction; so it was good to know that at least one other person didn't get into this one, either.
Here's my review / plot synopsis for the book.
Some little tiny girl named Svenson, with a big tattoo and a brand new boob job, has a troubled past, and is treated poorly by men, all of which were named Svenson, or perhaps Sverngensen. She's framed for a crime against someone named Svenson (or perhaps Svergensen, a writer who was about to release an expose about someone named Svenson, and is pursued by the local police, all of which were named...Svenson. There was a dirty cop, however. His name might have been Svergensen.
The lead male protagonist, Svenson, does not believe that Svenson / Svergensen the tattoo'd girl committed the crime against Svenson, and does what he can to help prove this, whilst nailing his boss, Svergensen. He thinks she's troubled, and maladjusted, and maybe dangerous, but not a killer of anyone named Svenson. Oh, he nailed her, too, before he started nailing his boss. The bosses maiden name? Svenson, I believe. They work together at a newspaper or magazine, which I'm pretty sure was called Svenson Weekly.
Their office was located on Svergensen Blvd.
Oh, and the dwarvish tattoo'd chick with new boobs? all she has to do is put on a wig, and she's unrecognizable by the entire population of whatever country she lives in.
And there was lots of stopping off at 7-11 for random meals, and a trip to Ikea to furnish a big, shiny apartment, likely located on Svenson street. Noone knows she lives there.
We spend more time reading about the Ikea trip, than we would actually spend... in Ikea.
And then Svenson Svenson Svergemsen Svenson Svergensen Svenson Svenson......
The book was at it's best early on, before the plot moved back to whatever scandinvian country in which the main plot took place. Early on, there was action on a tropical island, populated by people with different, non-interchangable last names. I could keep track without graph paper.
And the author didn't feel it was necessary to mention that they all stopped off at the island's convenience store for food.
Of COURSE I exaggerate.
But only a little.
If you're going to translate a novel into a different language, spend more than 5 minutes @ babelfish.com to do it.
Having it properly edited up front would help a great deal as well.
The US equivalent would have been set in Atlanta. All the characters would have had the word "Peach" or "Peachtree" in their names, their addresses, etc.
At least one of them would have had the nickname "Peachy" or "Peaches". There would have been many random, non-plot related mentions of stopping off at the Piggly Wiggly for vaguely named food items.
And after it became huge, it would be translated into many different languages, and some snarky, lazy-minded reader will mock it.
And rightfully so.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Smashing Pumpkins video shoot
I've learned something in the last year.
If someone you know says "hey, you want to be an extra in a movie/ music video, I can make it easy for you to do so" or words to that effect - say "yes".
And not because it will be the coolest thing you've ever done,because while you're doing it you CERTAINLY won't be thinking this; or even because you'll end up being able to say "see, right there! there I am!"
Because I've no idea, at all, if I'll be able to say that.
But you should still say yes.
Friday night, about 75-100 people took part in shooting footage for a video for the Smashing Pumpkins' song OWATA.
Billy Corgan's a big fan of wrestling, and is tight with the local indy group AAW. I've a friend who's heavily involved in that group, and I've been to a few of their shows.
So I already knew where the Berwyn Eagle's Club was located.
Yep, video was shot at a sorta run down Eagle's Club, similar to a VFW hall.
Cuz rock and roll is GLAMOROUS!
Stood outside for way too long, then we were finally ushered in. Our job there was very simple. There would be wrestling, we'd cheer and boo and act like a rabid wrestling audience.
Over, and over, and over.....
Was by far the most diverse wrestling crowd I'd seen at the Eagle's club, given that over half were Pumpkins' fans.
There were...women in the audience, just to mention one BIG difference from the normal crowd.
I do not know the premise behind the video, the storyline if you will. They had been filming for 8 hours already by the time we were allowed in to "watch" the wrestling.
Cameras rolled for the main event - Two well known (if you're into that sort of thing) women wrestlers going at it for "the belt".
do not ask me whose belt.
We were given our instructions, and then watched and reacted to the match.
It was actually a pretty good match, the wrestlers were talented.
Then it was over, the cameras stopped, we were told to hang out for 15-20 while they rested, so that they could film it again.
They moved some of us around to the side where most of the filming would likely take place, gave us further instructions as to who EXACTLY we were supposed to be cheering and booing, and started everything back up.
We watched the EXACT same match a 2nd time, cheered and jeered and booed enthusiastically, were not at all surprised by the outcome of the match, the cameras were stopped again, and.... They told us that they were going to have the match ONE MORE TIME.
My friend, Phil, and I looked at each other, looked at our watches, thought about our wives and little girls at home, and opted out of the 3rd viewing.
Still, it was cool, I have a new tale to tell, and maybe, just maybe, I'll be in the video; waving a sign provided by the crew over my head, or pretending to be outraged by heel tactics on display in the match.
If someone you know says "hey, you want to be an extra in a movie/ music video, I can make it easy for you to do so" or words to that effect - say "yes".
And not because it will be the coolest thing you've ever done,because while you're doing it you CERTAINLY won't be thinking this; or even because you'll end up being able to say "see, right there! there I am!"
Because I've no idea, at all, if I'll be able to say that.
But you should still say yes.
Friday night, about 75-100 people took part in shooting footage for a video for the Smashing Pumpkins' song OWATA.
Billy Corgan's a big fan of wrestling, and is tight with the local indy group AAW. I've a friend who's heavily involved in that group, and I've been to a few of their shows.
So I already knew where the Berwyn Eagle's Club was located.
Yep, video was shot at a sorta run down Eagle's Club, similar to a VFW hall.
Cuz rock and roll is GLAMOROUS!
Stood outside for way too long, then we were finally ushered in. Our job there was very simple. There would be wrestling, we'd cheer and boo and act like a rabid wrestling audience.
Over, and over, and over.....
Was by far the most diverse wrestling crowd I'd seen at the Eagle's club, given that over half were Pumpkins' fans.
There were...women in the audience, just to mention one BIG difference from the normal crowd.
I do not know the premise behind the video, the storyline if you will. They had been filming for 8 hours already by the time we were allowed in to "watch" the wrestling.
Cameras rolled for the main event - Two well known (if you're into that sort of thing) women wrestlers going at it for "the belt".
do not ask me whose belt.
We were given our instructions, and then watched and reacted to the match.
It was actually a pretty good match, the wrestlers were talented.
Then it was over, the cameras stopped, we were told to hang out for 15-20 while they rested, so that they could film it again.
They moved some of us around to the side where most of the filming would likely take place, gave us further instructions as to who EXACTLY we were supposed to be cheering and booing, and started everything back up.
We watched the EXACT same match a 2nd time, cheered and jeered and booed enthusiastically, were not at all surprised by the outcome of the match, the cameras were stopped again, and.... They told us that they were going to have the match ONE MORE TIME.
My friend, Phil, and I looked at each other, looked at our watches, thought about our wives and little girls at home, and opted out of the 3rd viewing.
Still, it was cool, I have a new tale to tell, and maybe, just maybe, I'll be in the video; waving a sign provided by the crew over my head, or pretending to be outraged by heel tactics on display in the match.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Physics
I've a confession to make.
I managed to graduate both high school AND college, without ever taking a physics class.
Which is a shame, because at this point in my life, I'm pretty clear on how my brain works, what it focuses on, and I think it would have really enjoyed physics classes.
I was feeling the physics ignorance awhile back, so picked up a book that highlights and briefly explains 50 laws of physics.
Cool.
Same people also published similar books dealing with philosophy and other fields of study.
Smart Stuff for Dummies, in other words.
Perfect for me.
Besides the fact that it seems like a bunch of guys became famous in their fields for stating the obvious, I've found a lot of what I've read to be very interesting.
I came across a little bit of physics in-fighting the other day.
A genius version of Biggie vs. Tupac, Elton vs. Madonna, Axl Rose vs.... everyone.
Only.... for nerds.
Historical nerds.
Law # 1:
Copenhagen Interpretation:
Neils Bohr was hanging out in Denmark, partying with a bunch of scientists in a mansion donated by the Carslberg brewery folks; thinking deep thoughts and staying away from Nazis. He came up with the notion that an object is not fully formed, until you observe it, and that by observing it, you dictate the form it will take.
Light's both a particle AND a wave, for instance, but will adapt it's form to how the observer wishes to measure it.
If that's not enough, the ACT of observing alters what is being observed, because the act of observation "involves the transfer of some energy and momentum."
In coming up with this, he introduced a bit of philosophy into physics, which really cheesed off some of the other scientists.
(This happened decades before folks realized that you CAN mix chocolate and peanut butter, for the betterment of mankind.)
This theory caused a guy named Schrodinger to go all east coast vs. west coast on Bohr's ass.
In part to mock Bohr's Copenhagen Interpretation, which he thought was ridiculous, he came up with own.
A cat, in a closed box, may or may not have been poisoned, and may or may not be dead...
(Sidebar: Schrodinger had some serious issues...)
Schrodinger's Cat indicates that the only way to determine if the cat's alive or dead, is to open the box; but that the cat's obviously not both alive AND dead at the same time, waiting for us to peek inside and determine it's fate.
(Did I mention that it seems like a bunch of guys became famous in their fields for stating the obvious?)
He equates a possibly poisoned, possibly dead cat with light waves/particles.
This is what happens when brilliant nerds get bitchy.
Schrodinger, when not talking about torturing pets, left a trail of illegitimate children across europe and the UK.
Yep, this physics stuff is pretty fascinating.....
I managed to graduate both high school AND college, without ever taking a physics class.
Which is a shame, because at this point in my life, I'm pretty clear on how my brain works, what it focuses on, and I think it would have really enjoyed physics classes.
I was feeling the physics ignorance awhile back, so picked up a book that highlights and briefly explains 50 laws of physics.
Cool.
Same people also published similar books dealing with philosophy and other fields of study.
Smart Stuff for Dummies, in other words.
Perfect for me.
Besides the fact that it seems like a bunch of guys became famous in their fields for stating the obvious, I've found a lot of what I've read to be very interesting.
I came across a little bit of physics in-fighting the other day.
A genius version of Biggie vs. Tupac, Elton vs. Madonna, Axl Rose vs.... everyone.
Only.... for nerds.
Historical nerds.
Law # 1:
Copenhagen Interpretation:
Neils Bohr was hanging out in Denmark, partying with a bunch of scientists in a mansion donated by the Carslberg brewery folks; thinking deep thoughts and staying away from Nazis. He came up with the notion that an object is not fully formed, until you observe it, and that by observing it, you dictate the form it will take.
Light's both a particle AND a wave, for instance, but will adapt it's form to how the observer wishes to measure it.
If that's not enough, the ACT of observing alters what is being observed, because the act of observation "involves the transfer of some energy and momentum."
In coming up with this, he introduced a bit of philosophy into physics, which really cheesed off some of the other scientists.
(This happened decades before folks realized that you CAN mix chocolate and peanut butter, for the betterment of mankind.)
This theory caused a guy named Schrodinger to go all east coast vs. west coast on Bohr's ass.
In part to mock Bohr's Copenhagen Interpretation, which he thought was ridiculous, he came up with own.
A cat, in a closed box, may or may not have been poisoned, and may or may not be dead...
(Sidebar: Schrodinger had some serious issues...)
Schrodinger's Cat indicates that the only way to determine if the cat's alive or dead, is to open the box; but that the cat's obviously not both alive AND dead at the same time, waiting for us to peek inside and determine it's fate.
(Did I mention that it seems like a bunch of guys became famous in their fields for stating the obvious?)
He equates a possibly poisoned, possibly dead cat with light waves/particles.
This is what happens when brilliant nerds get bitchy.
Schrodinger, when not talking about torturing pets, left a trail of illegitimate children across europe and the UK.
Yep, this physics stuff is pretty fascinating.....
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Camo is the new black.
just got back from 3 days of fishing in Wisconsin. Things i've learned.....
1. Camo is the new black.
2. Sunburn's for people in a hurry. WIND burn takes way longer, but is just as unpleasant.
3. If the rain's blowing hard enough, you CAN actually get rain all the way into your ear canal.
4. You have fried fish on your menu? Really? It's tonite's special? what's your other specials? Other kinds of fried fish? Tough call... I'll go with the fried fish, I think. Oh, definitely want the fries with that....
5. OOPS. Sorry, I didn't see you there, what with all the camo and all. You blend right in.
6. Critters Sports advertises indoor archery range and full bar. All thisi time, I just assumed they were in the same room... I stand corrected.
7. I don't want to own a camo painted boat. I'd never find it.
8. Beer is so very cheap. and it goes great with fried fish.
9. leeches are nasty. Yeah, I didn't JUST learn this, but was reminded of it continually for three days. However, they're like...fried fish to the fish, so I endured it.
10. Pontoon boats and high wind and swift current do not go together nearly as well as...say.... fried fish and a 30oz mug of beer.....
Fishing wasslow, but steady. And the company was... AWESOME.
1. Camo is the new black.
2. Sunburn's for people in a hurry. WIND burn takes way longer, but is just as unpleasant.
3. If the rain's blowing hard enough, you CAN actually get rain all the way into your ear canal.
4. You have fried fish on your menu? Really? It's tonite's special? what's your other specials? Other kinds of fried fish? Tough call... I'll go with the fried fish, I think. Oh, definitely want the fries with that....
5. OOPS. Sorry, I didn't see you there, what with all the camo and all. You blend right in.
6. Critters Sports advertises indoor archery range and full bar. All thisi time, I just assumed they were in the same room... I stand corrected.
7. I don't want to own a camo painted boat. I'd never find it.
8. Beer is so very cheap. and it goes great with fried fish.
9. leeches are nasty. Yeah, I didn't JUST learn this, but was reminded of it continually for three days. However, they're like...fried fish to the fish, so I endured it.
10. Pontoon boats and high wind and swift current do not go together nearly as well as...say.... fried fish and a 30oz mug of beer.....
Fishing wasslow, but steady. And the company was... AWESOME.
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