The Hike

This was taken from some writing I did the evening of 9/9, the night of my Rainier hike.

Got a late start today, and had a bit of a wrangle with the GPS, which took me through a bizarre maze of suburbia before finally leading to the highway, then led me to do some truly inexplicable things like exit the highway only to re-enter it immediately. And it was really unhappy with me about the route I chose to take and kept chirping at me about it, so - "F you GPS, you're going in the glove compartment." Which actually felt kind of good.

As I approached Rainier, I realized that I might not have enough time to drive down to the Paradise trailhead, and so made the impromptu decision to hike Sunrise instead. The drive itself was pretty incredible - I'd round a corner to face what appeared to be a vertical wall of evergreens. The road is carved into some truly fantastic landscape.


And the hike was awesome, of course. After a small inner debate, I opted to go for one of the "strenuous" hikes: not too long, distance-wise, but pretty steep at parts, with 1000 feet of elevation handled in just over 5 miles, and starting at 6,700 feet. After the first half mile or so, which was one of the most sustained steep inclines of the whole hike, I got over my "man, you haven't hiked at altitude for a while!" feelings, found my rhythm, just took in the landscape and communed with it.







Met some kind people - a senior citizen in the parking lot who was fascinated by my camelback; a father and son who make annual trips to Ranier from Seattle (credit the father for that photo of me); a through-hiking couple whom I was able to help with directions (!) and a couple of guys who may or may not have been stoned whom I wasn't.





Faced a couple of along-the-way decisions of the "do I take the short route back? do I extend this hike"-variety, and one or two "wait - am I still on the right trail??" moments. I was on the right trail, I kept going, and I did extend the hike a little, though not by much. The most significant crossroads came at the spot where I met the couple I was able to direct. Could have gone with them through the backpackers' campsite, which would have been a fine hike, if slightly foreshortened. Or I could make what was visibly a pretty steep ascent and continue around the Burroughs Mountains. I went for it, and it was definitely the most challenging & rewarding part of the hike. The landscape was tundra, very rocky and rugged, only the hardiest vegetation. Very very cool, but this was when I started really feeling it in my legs. It was an almost 3/4 mile climb, followed by a mellow stretch and then by a not-quite-as steep descent. The views all along were spectacular and stunning, but this was also the part of the hike where I felt the solitude the most. This was by far the rockiest and most hazardous part of the trip: a good chunk of the descent was a narrow (3'-4') path bordered by loose rock and leading to an extremely steep decline of nothing but jagged rock. Not good for those suffering vertigo: "one false move could really ruin your day" territory. Slipped on a loose rock and realized that I'd be in for a rough time if I had a fall or even pulled a muscle at this point.

Looking up from the trail:


Looking down:


Knocked- down sign:


Greenest lake ever:


I reached a spot with a short wall built on a curve - fantastic view/photo op. So, shoot I did, including a timer shot of moi.








When I got going again, I checked the time. Holy crap! 10 to 5. A good 20 or 30 minutes later than I'd thought it was, and I still had... well, I wasn't quite sure how much longer I had. But I knew I wanted to make it to the campsite well before sundown, as I'm not exactly the most experienced camper out there.

Number of times I've gone camping alone: Zero.

So I picked up the pace (easier once I got to some more earth-like ground) and kept the camera shouldered. May have missed afew good shots along the way, but I got plenty of images. The final what turned out to be about a mile & a half went very swiftly, and I came into the parking lot feeling very alive.

Pacific Past Posting

Here's an entry I wrote the other day (September 9), but didn't post because, well, you'll see when you read it.

I feel like there has been an angel of good fortune following me around since I've been here. Not only has the weather been, oh, perfect, but my hosts have been kind and generous (not a surprise there, but still a very nice element of the trip), and on several occasions I've had the experience of wondering where to find a thing, and then turning around and having it be RIGHT THERE. "How hard will it be to get those half-price theater tickets? Oh, the booth is right there." "I wonder where that club is where that band is playing? Oh, what do you know - right there." "I'm kind of thinking it might be fun to go see the Yankees play the Mariners while I'm here. Huh? You have an extra ticket for a great seat that you want to give me for free and all I have to do is go with your kid whom I kind of love anyway? Um, ok."

So, I wasn't even surprised when something as simple as an impossible parking space turned up - imagine wanting to just dash into, I don't know, the M&M store in Times Square, and as you pull up to it, there's a spot where you can park for an hour (again, for free).

Very quick rundown of some of what I've done since I've been here:

• Brief driving tour of city upon my arrival
• Lunch with the Simonds/Holmes clan
  
• Pike Brewery & Pub with friend from the dayjob who lives out here
• Show at the Intiman Playhouse
  
• Delicious breakfast in very funky neighborhood with Amy, more driving tour (including aforementioned parking luck at touristy but awesome fish market)
  
• Baseball game with Reuben
• Eating of best grilled salmon EVER with Young and Simonds clans
• Black Rebel Motorcycle Club at Showbox
• Kayaking Lake Union
• Rented a car ("Oh, if you want to upgrade from this Kia station-wagon-looking-thingy, you can have this Prius for an extra 6 bucks a day.")
  
• Sushi with Lauren
• Slumber Party at the Youngs'

And now I'm on day four. Heading to Rainier. ("Oh, don't you want camp rather than stay in a hotel? Didn't bring gear? Brian has a garage full of the best gear available, and he likes nothing more than going through it with you, telling you more than you thought you needed to know, and loaning you everything you could possibly want and then some.")

Writing this down, I actually am staggered a little bit. And don't want to jinx anything, so I think I'm not going to post this until my trip is finished (it would really suck to end up as one of those front page articles: "New Jersey Idiot's Luck Runs Out on Mt. Ranier")

So now I'm back in the 'boken. Wiped pretty well out, but feeling good. Much more to come on the PNW front...

Seattle, day one

Reuben appeared the moment I stuck my head out of my bedroom door. I gave him a ‘good morning.’

He eyed me with curiosity that was more anticipation than apprehension. “Good Morning!” Anticipation with a pinch of glee.

“I’m the kid of the house.”

“And I’m the guest of the house, I guess.”

Lauren surfaced and started scurrying me around – “the bagels are in the freezer, the fruit is probably bad, these veggies are looking feeble, but those should be ok, there are plenty of eggs, do you want a cup of coffee?”

Of course.

Chris was there as well, hadn’t seen him since Cat & Rich’s wedding. He looked good. They all looked good. After we exchanged greetings, Chris said to Reuben, “do you want to get the paper off the front porch, please?” They were off to Shabbat School, and needed to leave kind of right now.

Lauren talked me through the keys, the car, the GPS.

“I’ll probably just hang here until you return, but thanks so much. If I do need to roll, I’m all set – you guys have really hooked me up.”

The six-year-old returned with the paper. Pointed to a photo on the front page. “This guy looks kind of like you!”

“Not nearly as handsome,” I retorted.

Chris chuckled “In town a few hours, and already made the front page!”

“Not as a good guy, I’m afraid. Evidently I ‘Kill for God.’” My Post-Intelligencer likeness has been accused of murdering six people. He doesn’t really look that much like me.

They have to get going. More pleasantries out of the way, and they get into the car and go. On their way out, Reuben shouts “You can’t use my Leapster! You can’t play Leapster unless you do ten minutes of the Word Game!”

“Isn’t there a nicer way you can say that?” Lauren is eager to make up for lost time, but can’t let decorum go unaddressed.

He lowers his voice a bit. “You can use my Leapster as long as you play ten minutes of the Word Game for every ten minutes of Leapster.”

“Ok. Thanks! See you guys at noon.”

And they’re out. I warm up the coffee and defrost a bagel. A text from Rashmi reminds me that the U.S. Open semifinals are on. I breakfast to tennis, check on my couchsurf in Portland and walk around their house. Beautiful place, set in the Northwest wetlands. Very green, the sun struggles to break through the clouds. I step up onto their wooden patio and over toward a mosquito-net tent and am faced with a spider who’s stretched his web across the deck, guarding the passage. I recall the spiders at the gas station last night: big, unmoving and plentiful. This gal is something special, however, and her net is quite an achievement.

“It’s ok, I’ll go back the way I came. Good luck out here with the flies.”

And then it’s back to another cup of really good coffee, chill and write this till they come back from Shabbat School. Life is good.

What the fuck is a Leapster?

This is Seattle?

Hehehe.

10-Day Forecast for
Seattle, WA

			High / Low (°F)	Precip. %
Today Sep 06		Partly Cloudy	71°/57°	10 %
Sun Sep 07		Sunny	75°/57°	20 %
Mon Sep 08		Sunny	77°/55°	0 %
Tue Sep 09		AM Clouds / PM Sun	68°/53°	10 %
Wed Sep 10		Sunny	70°/54°	20 %
Thu Sep 11		Sunny	72°/55°	10 %
Fri Sep 12		Sunny	72°/54°	0 %
Sat Sep 13		Sunny	70°/54°	10 %
Sun Sep 14		Sunny	68°/53°	20 %
Mon Sep 15		Sunny	69°/54°	10 %

Hooked on Phonics

Ok, I found this to be kind of funny, and interesting on a couple levels.

Last week we ordered breakfast from a deli down the road - got someone on the phone we hadn't spoken to before. Took a little extra time to place the order, and when the food came, we knew why. Here's what was written on the check:

Pina barh yeli sogui bret

Egg chis tos rol

Egui beiquen chis rap

The order that this reflected was:

Peanut butter and jelly on whole wheat bread

Egg and cheese on a toasted roll

Egg, bacon and cheese wrap

A couple of things worth pointing out are:

• The person on the phone appeared to be a Spanish speaker, as are most of the cooks at this place, though the owners (who usually answer the phone) are Korean
• The handwriting on the check was clear - better than mine (of course, that's not saying much). It wasn't particularly elegant, but I'm not guessing at any of the letters.
• The order came through perfectly. The food was done 100% right, and delivered on time.

To me, this is fascinating. I mean, leaving aside the fact that I couldn't begin to function taking food orders in Spanish (much less Korean) I think that this shows the organic side of language in a way we sometimes forget about. Having just finished a Shakespeare play, I may be more attuned to this than usual - there was almost no standardized spelling and vocabulary in Shakespeare's time; in fact we owe a lot of our 'proper' English spelling to Shakespeare, for better or for worse. (Is 'Achilles' really better than the closer-to-the-Greek 'Akhilleus'? You tell me.)

Seems to me that it also points out the, um, challenges of spelling and pronunciation in English. This is nothing new to anyone, but take a quick look at these words:

through
though
thought
rough
trough
plough

I dare you to come up with a quick answer to the question of how 'ough' is to be pronounced.

Even though you may have to google a couple words, I bet you understand that I can go to the bodega with my bff in k-town and get an empanada, some kim chee and a 40. And when my cholo texts me something that makes me rotflmao, I'm reminded that language really is a living thing.

In other, much sadder news, Don LaFontaine has shuffled off this mortal coil at the age of 68. Or as he might have put it: "In a world with the heroes of all time, Don LaFontaine announces coming attractions to the angels."

Family Visits

Big shout out this weekend to my cousin Nick, who is getting married in Madison, WI. 12th Night prevented me from making that trip, but most of my family is there, including Mom, Dad and Sis. Congratulations and all best wishes to the happy couple.

Speaking of family trips, Jason (brother-in-law of Bonnaroo fame) was out in NYC a couple weeks back with his father and brother for the Yankees/Royals series (They're from Iowa and are fans of the Kansas City Royals. I know, I know. It's ok, just pity them. They'll always have George Brett.) Barely had any time together, but we did grab a brunch at Bubby's, which is one of the best food spots in town.

This isn't the best photo, but I put it in because it gives a sense of the flavor of the neighborhood, and a taste of the Tribeca Stylish.

Here's a better shot of Jason:

Dude is just too good looking. May even be good enough for my sister. Maybe.

Oh, and a few of us went out for drinks after the show that night. Got a kick out of the sign in front of the bar - Vintage, on 9th Ave. Since I made an ass of myself taking a picture of it like a tourist, I may as well share it with y'all.

I Heart Michelle Obama...

...Which will surprise very few of you.

I was pretty lame last night, and was doing stuff around the house and editing/processing/uploading all those photos and didn't tune in to Michelle's speech when it was broadcast live, but holy crap, how amazing:



It takes about 17 minutes, but it's worth watching if you're interested in, oh, the country we live in. I still haven't seen all the other highlights from last night's installment of Conventionfest '08 - the Kennedy Speech, the Family Bonding, Barack's Response - but I understand it was really very good, as far as this sort of jingo juggling goes. And it's always tough for me to get too excited about someone who actually wants to be a politician, but I'm letting hope in a little bit this time. A little bit.

On the other side of the coin, I had a revelation while reading Overheard in New York the other day. Came across this entry:

Anyone Else Hope She's Buying Birth Control?

Annoyed sexy girl: This is stupid! I don't see how you can just think one city is older than another!
Embarrassed boyfriend: Think about it. Can't you see how Rome would be much older than, say, Provo, Utah?
Annoyed sexy girl: Well, I've never been to either of those, so how would I know?

--Duane Reade, Columbus Ave

And I'm thinking - ha! This is the kind of thing that would get those Republicans to change those wacky notions that birth control = abortion. Maybe even get them to encourage effective birth control, sex education, and education in general.

But then it struck me - this is the revelation part - they sort of WANT everybody to be this stupid. Dumb little rule-following consumers are their total wet dream cup of spoo.

I mean, I'm making a funny; but kind of not, you know?

Then a little later I ran into an even better Republican Breeder Fantasy:

Laguna Beach, Encapsulated

Girl #1: Do you like money? Cause I like money!
Girl #2: I like money, I really like money!
Girl #3: No, no, no, I love money! I love it!

--6th Ave & 26th St, Outside Nightspot

Of course you do.

11th, 12th and 13th Night

We've had two rainouts, so while our first performance on Governor's Island would have been our 13th show, now it'll be our 11th. This is the final weekend to see Twelfth Night - and the only chance to see it in the new setting: hope you can make it on the 11th, 12th or 13th night!

Well, actually they will be in the afternoon - family friendly matinees down south of Manhattan, a short ferry ride from a building right next to the Staten Island Ferry Pier. You'll know you're there when you see the blue flags.

Got some more shots from the show. May entice you to show up, or just be a record of what you're missing.
There's music...



Dancing...


Romance...

Yoga...


Violence...



Intrigue...




Just Plain Craziness...



Seemingly random amalgams of characters...


And of course, Twins Love...


How could you resist? It's guaranteed to be the most fun you've ever had with your clothes on*. Friday, Saturday and Sunday (August 29-31) at 2 p.m. on Governor's Island. Bring a blanket or a beach towel. Check out the Olafur Eliasson Waterfalls while you're there.

*Not a Guarantee

Behind the Times

Once again I've been a slacker blogger. The good news is that that's because I've been doing a lot of things that keep me sufficiently busy that I don't have as much time to write about the things I've been doing. Hopefully this week I'll have time to post about the show I'm in, maybe one or two of the shows I've seen, the beach, my bro-in-law's visit, the McCarren Pool Party...

Yeah, probably not all of that. There are a ton of photos though - I'll be sure to post some.

Meanwhile, here is an abbreviated bit of sports-related Magic 8-Pod. It's outdated - played it back when the Olympics had just gotten going, so we'll see how it fared vis a vis the way things turned out...

How will Michael Phelps do? Welcome - The Who, from "Tommy"

As in - welcome to the top of the heap, Mike. Where no one has gone before. Nicely done.

What's the deal with these pre-pubescent Chinese gymnasts? The Greatest Romance Ever Sold - Prince, from "Rave In2 the Joy Fantastic."

This was the remix/b-side version of that song, with Eve doing a come-hither-type rap. Hmm, not sure what to make of this one. I mean, we could imagine the U.S. team and the Chinese team:

Finally face 2 face
Checkin' each other up and down

But then, being a Prince song, it goes places that... um, no. Maybe we're better off just thinking of it as a comment on the Selling of the Olympic Dream, or the Selling of Capitalism to the East. Or something.

How are the Red Sox going to do in the Post Manny Era? Absolutely Free, The Mothers of Invention, from "We're Only in It for The Money."

Hehehe. This works on a few levels - the Sox can now be free from the media circus of Manny (as fun as it was and is) and be free to concentrate on Baseball. And - the title of this brilliant album may shed some light on Manny's Mysterious Motivation for wanting so badly to be traded.

OH! This leads me to a current, live-as-I-blog 8-Pod opportunity:

Now how 'bout catching the Rays, guys? Dark Chocolate - Dan Bern, from "Smartie Mine"

Hmm. This is cryptic enough. Dan loves him some Dark Chocolate in this song (don't we all?) Promises offered, unrealized and met with unyielding loyalty anyway (Sox fans know well about that):

Who'd believe that you once saved my life
When you're split in so many pieces?

Of course it gets sensual (this is a song about chocolate, people, what did you expect?) And then it resolves (over-obviously?) focusing on the bittersweet aspect of the title/subject.

Great. Being a Red Sox fan with post season hopes is a bittersweet experience. How original.

Just take it pitch by pitch, guys. Those Rays have to crumble eventually. Don't they?

Golden Years

Today I'll post on a topic that several people seem to be talking about (meant to post about it yesterday when it would have been truly topical, but didn't get the chance). That topic being: some of these Chinese "women" gymnasts appear to be pre-pubescent.



I might buy that some of these (supremely, amazingly, stunningly talented) athletes are 16, but take a look at Deng Linlin:


I understand that there are cultural and genetic elements at play here, but if she's had a period, I've had one too.

The Olympic Committee (and the international community) claims that its hands are tied with this, because they have passports that show them to be 16.

Really, folks: how many 16-yrs olds have just lost a baby tooth?

I can't be the only one who's wondering, though, if there's a reluctance to pursue this question with more vigor because no one wants the, um, inconvenience of follow-up questions about child labor in general, particularly in the Host Nation of the Olympics...

Those are the questions really worth asking, of course. The life of an 11-yr-old Olympic gymnast, while demanding in ways I can only imagine, has to come out ahead of the life of an 11-yr-old in a shoe factory in all kinds of ways. What with the gold medals and all.

Rehearsals, etc.

The opening of Twelfth Night fast approacheth. We had some weather-related frustrations this weekend, but also got in some good cuts. If you're in town, hope you can make it. Here's the postcard:

One thing that the postcard doesn't mention for some reason is that we also have a weekend's worth of matinees at Governor's Island: August 29-31 at 2 p.m. Another thing not noted on the card is that it's probably a good idea for you to bring a cushion or a pillow, because those concrete steps are pretty unforgiving.

Here are some shots from a rehearsal (no costumes involved) and a couple candids:


RJ having a moment.

Action shot of Annie, Raushauna and Sean

Richard being pensive.

Loren relaxing between scenes.

Justin taking care of business with David.

This is kind of 'Shakespeare for People Who Don't Like Shakespeare': plenty of broad jokes and wacky costumes. And Led Zeppelin. Lots and lots of Led Zeppelin. Hopefully, people who do like Shakespeare will enjoy it too...

Restaurant Week!

That's right, folks, it's time once again for that week that comes only once a year, when some of New York City's best restaurants offer Prix Fixe deals for lunch and dinner, allowing regular people to go there without missing a rent payment or skipping out on the phone bill or something. Except it now happens twice a year. And it happens two weeks at a time. So it's sort of like "Restaurant Month, but we broke it up so it happens twice." But that doesn't exactly roll trippingly off the tongue, now does it?

But I'm not complaining! Having a broader target for this kind of thing is all good. This time round, Cory and I went to 5 Ninth. I'd never been there before, but it's one of Cory's favorite places, and now I know why. I've never been all that good at writing food porn, but for today, I'll give it a try...

It's a beautiful space that appears to have been a townhouse or something in a previous life, down on 9th Ave at that funky corner of Gansevoort and Little West 12th (you know - that block where everyone looks like a model? Probably because they are models?), simply but elegantly furnished, with some great garden seating in the back (and what seemed to be a nice upstairs dining area too, though I didn't get a lingering look at it). We had a drink at the bar first - I made the HUGE mistake of not looking at their cocktail menu before I ordered a simple Gin & Tonic, and so missed out on some really great offerings that I wouldn't have come up with on my own. Cory had the "house cocktail" which changes every so often, and yesterday involved armagnac shaken over ice with lemon and kummel (do you know this? it's a liqueur I'd never heard of - caraway is the predominant flavor) then poured into a cocktail glass and topped with Champagne. Yum!

We decided that it was worth the wait to be out in the garden, and once we got there, we were served by an entire battalion of waiters, waitresses and bussers. There was some training of a new employee going on, but that's no bother in my opinion. All were pleasant and knowledgeable; although our frontman wasn't totally up on the wine list, he just grabbed the host, who handled our questions adroitly without any of the snob effect that sometimes accompanies people who know their wine. We got a very interesting bottle of Albarino, a wine I wasn't familiar with. From Galicia, it was as promised dry, very slightly effervescent, with hints of grass - perfect for a summer night, especially well-suited to seafood.

The 5 Ninth Restaurant Week menu changes every few days, so it's not up on their website, but that's a good thing too - that way nothing gets stale, including the kitchen's attitude. Cory started with the local greens, about which she had no complaint; I opened with the roast pork belly. If I'd had any doubt that I was in for a meal and a half, that ended the moment I bit through the bib lettuce into the tender delicious burst of flavor within. I've said it before, and I'll say it again (before I finish this entry, I'll wager): yum! Cory's main course was cod with an edamame puree, and I had the truffled ravioli, which were round but not overplump with delicate cheese filling, covered in an amazing basil sauce and truffles, and which coyly hid some roasted grape tomatoes.

I was starting to wonder what good thing I've done recently that allowed me to deserve such a meal.

We got around to dessert, and as valiantly as the fruit salad strove for our attention, we both went for the inevitable chocolate pot de creme. I have now three times tried and failed to describe this dessert without resorting to a sexual reference. For now, I'll keep it simple, and allow myself a reference to the Dark Knight zeitgeist. Holy yum, Batman!

Didn't bring a camera (wouldn't have wanted to shoot the food anyway; as deserving as it was, that would have injured the evening) so you'll have to make do with the descriptions and the website link. Anyway, hope you've enjoyed reading about it - I enjoyed writing it, but not anywhere nearly as much as I enjoyed the event.

Happy Birthday Nelson Mandela

Yep, he's 90 today. 90! That's very exciting.

There's nothing I can really add to this man's story, which hopefully you all know well already. Truly and I think indisputably one of the Great People of our time, he personified integrity, self-sacrifice, devotion, persistence, effective activism and wisdom. Here's a report of the tributes from AFP.

I love how he describes himself as "a retired old man who no longer has power or influence." Nicely done.

So, my irreverent addition to the celebration will be a reblog to a very funny political cartoonist's site having nothing particularly to do with Mandela at all. Brian McFadden writes and draws Big Fat Whale, and finishes off with a pithy comment-on-the-commentary as well. Here's a link to the archives for your amusement and edification; the whole site is worth investigating. Meanwhile, here's today's entry:

OH - and I did call in sick for rehearsal last night. First time maybe ever (not counting when I was in school - I punked out a couple times back then). The Cal Ripkin Jr. impulse lost out to the 'take care of yourself - it will be better for you and for the show' impulse. Not sure what the hell that hygienist did to my jaw, but it's still a little sore. Much better than yesterday, though, so I'll be back in the game tonight.

New England Dreamin'

Seriously experiencing New England envy today. I know, I know - I was just there a few weeks ago, but I didn't get to the ocean at all. I'm wanting to be away from the fluorescent cubes and the steamy streets and the control freaks, swimming in that cold water.

It's unlikely I'll get up there again this summer. However, a beachy day-trip closer to home is a must!

Meanwhile, half of my face is numb and my jaw is throbbing from a trip to the dentist. Ugh. Don't know if I'm going to be able to rock the Shakespeare tonight.

School of Rock

Oh, I've been a baaaaad blogger lately. Twelfth Night is in full rehearsal swing; some great people involved, I'm thrilled to say. Not that it's been without its challenges - there have been many. Always an interesting experience to deal with a whole group of new personalities and processes.

And it's the end of a long day right now. The only reason I'm up and able to tap away at this entry is that the All-Star Game is in the 13th inning and I don't feel like sleeping through the end of it. Might be sorry 'bout that call tomorrow, but I'm going with it.

SO - have you seen The School of Rock? The Jack Black movie about the guy who takes over a middle school classroom under false pretenses and turns them into a rock band? Or maybe you've even seen Rock School, the (gasp) documentary about Paul Green, who actually did start a music program for kids in Philadelphia. Well, this year's batch of those real-life kids took a mini-tour to New York several weeks ago. I caught their Jethro Tull set (I know, I know - it was the show that fit into my schedule) at The Cutting Room. Dr. Green makes sure his students understand the importance of theatricality: costumes and attitude shared center stage with musicianship. When covering a band like Tull, that meant medieval references, wizards, knights and animals, and a healthy dose of cross-dressing.

I felt kind of weird taking pictures, because the light was too low not to use a flash, and flashes are a pain to performers. But by the end of the set I relented, since so many people (I'm guessing they were mostly parents) were taking flash photos. Here's the best of the bunch - Aqualung, as sung by this, what, eleven-year-old? Complete with English accent, I should add.



With apologies to John Hall, I'm sorry but: I love this kid's energy! He totally sold this song about an old homeless guy with a snotty nose ogling the children. He put himself out there and hit it out of the box.

Which I wish someone would do in the Stadium tonight. It's now the 15th inning, and I just want someone to win it. Preferably via another J.D. Drew knock. Sheesh! So much for that asinine World Series home field advantage nonsense, right?

FISA Petition

Ok, I'm not going to spend a lot of time on the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act, (the current 'compromise' version of which offers retroactive immunity to telecom companies that have broken the law in monitoring conversations, emails, etc. and grants all kinds of intrusive powers to the government going forward) under the assumption that you've read about it elsewhere. God knows you've had the opportunity to.

What I will do is include a link to a Petition to the Senate floating around the internets (one of several) and invite you to sign it. I did, and included the following comment:

This Independence Day, I'm choosing to defend the Constitution, and invite the Senate to do the same. In fact, didn't you take some kind of oath to that effect?

Holla to Russ Feingold, who's leading the legislative fight. Wisconsin represents.