Last night we played the music/chronology game HITSTER with a bunch of folks and I learned that my wife has a special talent-- though she rarely knows the names of bands, songs, or albums, if she hears a song, she can precisely identify WHEN the song was released-- even pop stuff from the early aughts-- in the game you need to listen to songs and identify if they were released before or after the other songs in your timeline and you win once you get ten songs in your line (and you can challenge if you think someone has it wrong) and, because of my wife's heretofore unknown talent, we crushed everyone.
The Required Amount at the Prescribed Rate (Handcrafted From the Finest Corinthian Leather)
Note to Future (Possibly Reincarnated) Self
If you get a dog, make sure the color of the dog's coat matches the color of your kitchen floor-- otherwise, the floor always appears littered with dog hair.
The Older You Get, The More You Pack (Until You Get REALLY Old)
The older you get, the longer it takes to pack for the beach . . . but it's because you're smarter and realize that you need more stuff-- sunblock, sunglasses, seltzer, change of clothes, sunhat, Kindle, variety of snacks, a chair, umbrella, etcetera-- stuff you eschewed and forgot when you were young and could handle the full effects of the sun and you were limber enough to be able to lay comfortably on a towel on the bumpy hot sand (and today we preceded the beach day with some pickleball at Wardell Park-- which made for even MORE packing-- wrist bands, paddle, baseball cap, extra pickleballs, even more snacks, water . . . it's a miracle I left the house) still I suppose once you get REALLY old and you're just going to shuffle along the boardwalk, then you won't need to pack anything.
(Dave is) Brave
I still feel kind of crappy today from yesterday's first dose of the shingles vaccine-- my wife says that I sometimes whine and complain when I feel a little sick . . . which might be true-- but I still managed to bravely accomplish several chores: I vacuumed the house; shook out the vacuum filter; sprayed the garden and backyard with the chemical that kills mosquitoes; and met with Joey the Handyman about replacing some windows-- and, ironically, the most exhausting of those tasks was meeting with Joey the Handyman,-- who is going to DO a task for me-- and while he's a stand-up guy he's also a whirlwind: in the span of twenty minutes he told me twenty stories, laid out his political perspectives, reviewed every place he had ever lived in his life (quite a few places!) and formed an indelible bond with my dog (and then he came back . . . he forgot his phone).
Shingles Shot, Part One
Kids and Consciousness
Inside Out 2 isn't as emotional as its predecessor-- Bing Bong's sacrifice and the end of Riley's innocence is as abstractly meta-tragic as you can get-- but in some ways I like the sequel better: its a sports movie!-- and there's a great deal about what happens in your brain when you are involved in sports; jockeying for position on a team; gametime decisions and action; the ethics of sporting life; and realizing you might need to leave some good friends (who are lesser players) behind . . . it's a fast-paced, funny film and the new emotions (Anxiety, Ennui, Embarrassment, and Envy) perfectly reflect Riley's new teenage hormonally driven consciousness . . . for a darker take on teamwork, kids, and consciousness, check out the graphic novel Sentient-- created by Eisner Award-winners Jeff Lemire and Gabriel Walta-- but strap yourself in-- this tale of a generation starship's AI attempt to "mother' a group of orphaned children is violent, gut-wretching, and riveting (in the grimmest way).
Shakespeare: Timeless-- But a Man of His Times
Who Is One DJ Who Has Been in Zman's New Kitchen?
Kool DJ Red Alert and my wife |
Cool DJ Green Alert |
When TV is Infinite, Every Show is Insignificant
Incentive to Bike
I'm On Summer Break! My Wife is NOT on Summer Break (Yet)
First day of summer vacation for me: I worked on my Shakespeare podcast; biked to the gym and lifted; biked to New Brunswick for some shopping at my favorite (and totally legal) store; watched a few episodes of Bojack Horseman in a semi-catatonic nap state; went to the pool and swam a few laps; and I'm planning on playing osm pickleball once it cools down . . . meanwhile, my wife came home in an irate mood-- she's not done until Friday and they had some sort of outdoor fun-day in the scorching heat-- all these New Jersey districts need to coordinate so that teachers all get done on the same day, so we can avoid all this inter-familial summer vacation jealousy.
Which One Are You? No Judgements . . .
(Pretty) Good Day
I had a pretty good day at 6:30 AM hoops this morning, I made a few clutch three-pointers and played some solid D . . . BUT I jammed my pinky going for a rebound and it's all misshapen and swollen; then I got a pretty good movie recommendation form my buddy Jack-- Shin Godzilla . . . BUT it's not streaming anywhere so I'll have to try and pirate it; and in the afternoon, I had a pretty good time at the pool-- I was really hot from watering the garden and very sore from morning hoops, so I swam a few laps to cool down and I stretched out in the shallow end and the water was clear and refreshing BUT after my swim, when I reclined on the lounger to read my book, I noticed that the lounger was covered in ants . . . and soon enough I was covered in ants and so I decided to head home and read my book in the safety of my home.
Chess and Sugar
Wood!
Dave Does Some Suburban Civil Engineering
Wild Saturday: after pickleball and the gym, respectively, my wife and I went to TWO mall-like areas-- this is highly unusual behavior-- but we had a Seasons 52 gift card (the best chain restaurant I've ever been to . . . besides White Castle) and Seasons 52 is right next to Barnes and Nobles-- which resides next to the Menlo Park Mall, in a semi-attached manner-- and we wanted to get my father a couple of books for Fathers Day-- and it was hot and sunny so we parked in the shade, underneath what I believe is more parking-- and it's kind of nuts that EVERYONE in the lot didn't park in the shady area-- but there were plenty of spaces-- weird-- and then we actually walked through the mall-- the first time I've done that in a long, long time-- and made our way to Barnes and Nobles, bought a couple of books (no more Educator Discount, boo!) and then we ate lunch and then when we got back to the car, it was nice and cool, despite the sun-- because we had the foresight to park in the shade-- then we went to Wegman's, which resides near Woodbridge Center Mall, and we got some fresh fish for dinner and some good beer and cider-- but when we got back to the car, it was HOT . . . because there was zero shaded parking-- and this makes me wonder: why don't we build all our large stores on top of the parking lots, which would save space, allowed for more green areas, avoid over-heated cars, avoid such long walks across hot parking lots, and it would look a lot nicer-- there should be some incentive to build over the parking lot and then have a belt of green space around the lot-- which would also avoid the incredible heat sink that is a large stretch of asphalt-- anyway, I'm sure there's prohibitive costs associated with this plan-- but maybe in the future we'll incentive the right things so that the cost is neglible (and Rutgers has some parking lots that are shaded by solar panels-- this is another solution) but the next time I go to the Menlo Park Mall when it's hot (which might not be for a decade) I know where to park.
She Blinded Me With Blindness
Lunch Surprise!
The Groundlings Were Grungy in the 1590s
Upon Even Further Reflection (and some looking around)
Upon Further Reflection . . .
Bamboozled
1) it was aesthetically pleasing
2) it obscured the view of our neighbor's house
3 and the bamboo remained bright green in the middle of winter . . .
but apparently, you are NOT supposed to let clumping bamboo grow in this fashion, as the rootball can get so dense that the bamboo can strangle itself-- you're supposed to cull the "weeping" culms and clear out the dead branches between the healthy upright culms-- so I've got some serious work to do, I trimmed some of the bushy stuff this morning, but I'm going to have to get down on my hands and knees and really weed out a lot of dead shoots and clean out the leaves (and soccer balls and dog toys-- I found a few of those in there) to allow air circulation and healthier sprouts . . . here's where I am now in this project, but I probably won't really get in there and trim everything until fall, when it gets colder and I won't get eaten alive by mosquitoes.
Godzilla Plus One Million!
Godzilla Minu One is finally streaming in the United States-- on Netflix-- and it was worth the wait; Cat and I watched it last night with Ian and his girlfriend-- who professed to hating Godzilla movies because "there's never any plot" but I convinced her to try this one . . . I had watched half of it Thursday night and knew that the movie has a compelling story: a failed kamikaze pilot tries to cobble together a shattered life in the ruins of firebombed Tokyo, but his shame, regret, and trauma from the war-- and a chance encounter with young Godzilla-- have damaged him enough that he can't love the woman and child that need him . . . but he's going to get one more chance at redemption, and so is his country-- which has been leveled to zero by the war, disarmed, and being slowly rebuilt with the help of the U.S. (and famously, General MacArthur) but in this alternate history, Godzilla-- who is more like Jaws or Moby Dick, a senseless force of nature, bent on haphazard destruction, more like an earthquake or tornado than some Marvel monster with recognizable motives-- knocks Japan from zero to "minus one"-- and the rest of the world doesn't really want to get involved with a giant radioactive creature-- the United States is more concerned about the Soviet Union and the Cold War-- so it's up to a ragtag bunch of minesweepers; a plan bordering on pure genius; and Koichi-- the shamed kamikaze pilot-- to rescue not only Japan but Japanese honor and reputation . . . and there's certainly a nod to Dunkirk at the end . . . Ian's girlfriend admitted to getting so involved that she was crying at the end . . . and so was I (and you'd cry to, if you watched this movie).
Half Day of School (That Was Half Good)
Seriously?
Senior class, first period, and there are two more days of actual school (then exams) and everyone knows my cell phone policy (they are a menace; a scourge upon humanity; the devil's technology; designed to foster addiction, polarization, shallow thinking, distraction, and stupidity . . . especially in teenagers, especially during school time) yet a girl has an odd stack of three textbooks on her desk and she's doing something behind the textbooks and her eyes are glancing back and forth rapidly, so I chastised her and made her put her phone in the phone caddy-- shameful for a senior . . . and this was so absurd (and also so typical) that I acted it out in the next period, but I put a student in front of the room and I built the tower of books and played with my phone, so someone could experience the insanity that is giving kids cell-phones and then sending them off to class.
Social Media is Anti-Social
That's a Wrap!
I Thought of This Myself! I Didn't Even Use Pinterest!
Moving On In
I Washed (Some Very Particular) Dishes!
Yesterday, when I got home, my wife was having a rather heated discussion with our son about the difference between the communal act of doing the dishes and the selective and annoying act of doing only your dishes-- and the happiness from Happy Hour evaporated.