No Fun No Fun No Fun

I heard P.J. O'Rourke on NPR plugging his new book, which is about the "baby boom" generation, and he explained that his generation really did "use up" all the fun in the '70's -- sex before STDs, drugs before "just say no" and America before complete fragmentation . . . and it if you want a visual example of this, read Mimi Pond's fictionalized autobiographical graphic novel Over Easy . . . the narrator's adventures as a waitress at the hippest diner in Oakland is gender-bending, drug-fueled artsy hippie punk fun . . . and the art is easy on the eyes, and the book is a breeze to read-- it's not dense like reading Watchmen . . . but no disco, please.

There Is No Unanimity About Uniforms

The day of practice when uniforms are distributed is uniformly loved by players and uniformly hated by coaches.

We Are Bested by a Ninja Grandmom

The kids and I went on an ethnic eating adventure Wednesday to the new dumpling place on Route 27 (Shanghai Dumpling House) because it's been insanely crowded with Asian people since it recently opened-- and we probably chose a bad time for the adventure, as it was hot outside, and hot in the restaurant, and we were hot and sweaty-- the kids had soccer camp all morning and I was coaching in the scorching hot sun-- so it wasn't the kind of day where we wanted to wait on line for lunch, but everything looked good, and so, after a moment of discussion, we queued up and waited for some tables to open; meanwhile the little old busybody Asian lady behind us kept making forays around our flanks to assess the seating situation-- she had a party of four and we had a party of three-- and though she feigned pleasantries, and even went so far as to chat with my kids, I knew her ruse, but despite my knowledge of her intentions, she pulled it off anyway, jumping the line and scurrying to a table of six that was occupied by two other old Asians, who she made some small talk with as her party sat down with them-- the boys and I compared her to a Samurai or a Ninja, but then when we looked those up, we found that they are both indigenous to Japan, so she is neither, just a quick and crafty old Asian lady; the ethnic hazing didn't end there, the place was packed but there was only one waiter, and we had a hard time getting his attention, and then they were out of several things that we ordered and we weren't sure exactly what was going on and what kind of food we were going to get, but when we finally got our food, the kids said it was worth the wait: the pork buns were crispy and delicious, the soup dumplings were amazing, and I really liked the wontons in spicy sauce . . . and I'd like to give some props to my children, who certainly have their shortcomings, but they are always up for a cheap ethnic food adventure, and they really held their own on this one, which was epic and annoying (the next time we go, it will not be during the lunch rush).

Grim Semantics

I'm usually a day or two ahead on my sentences and they automatically post in the mornings, so if I continue this project for the rest of my life, when I die, perhaps I will still post a couple of posthumous "death sentences" . . . I'm sure this has happened already on the interweb, and I find it creepy and weird (but not as creepy and weird as what happens in Susan Palwick's sci-fi novel Shelter . . . a rich but very sick man who has been downloading his memories "translates" himself into a digital entity so that he can remain in contact with his family, though he is disembodied and physically dead; his daughter finds this creepy, weird, and annoying, as he is always showing up on whatever on various monitors and embodying cleaning robots and such, in order to "visit" her . . . it's a great book if you're looking for some near-future character-driven sci-fi to read).

Defying the Odds

There should be a name for the disease that I have-- a sickness which defies all statistical logic: whenever I try to switch on a light or a fan, or open a drawer in order to find something in the kitchen, I always choose the wrong option . . . you'd think I'd get it right once in a while, probability dictates that I would get it right once in a while, but I don't.

This Is the Deal

I will entertain some high school students for ten months, as long as my town's school system takes my own children off my hands and entertains them (and I use the words "educate" and "entertain" interchangeable, because in many senses, they are the same).

The Positive Manifold is Annoying

Scott Barry Kaufman, an accomplished cognitive scientist who began his academic career as a special ed student relegated to the resource room, explains in his book Ungifted: Intelligence Redefined, The Truth About Talent, Practice, Creativity, and the Many Paths to Greatness that smart people (typical smart people, not savants or people higher on the autism spectrum) tend to be smart in all subjects, and do well on an entire battery of cognitive tests-- there is a positive correlation between succeeding in French class and being able to do Calculus, between discerning musical pitch and mentally rotating objects . . . and this seems unfair, that the intellectually rich get richer, but what pioneering cognitive psychologist Charles Spearman called "the indifference of the indicator" has now become a psychological law . . . the positive manifold always correlates and though you'd expect "that the more time a student puts into one area of study, the more performance in another suffers" this isn't the case; students who do well in one particular subject tend to perform well in other subjects (and this does not preclude them from being athletic, as kinesthetic sense also positively correlates, so you might not be able to beat them up to punish them for their superior academic performance).

Don't Know Much About History

Greg Grandin's book Empire's Workshop: Latin America, the United States, and the Rise of the New Imperialism is giving me a headache-- the Drug War stuff I read revealed the tip of another iceberg, American intervention and meddling in Latin America, and I never learned any of this stuff history class but I feel like I should know the basics; Grandin does lay out some simple cause and effect at the start of the book: "it was in Central America where the Republican Party first combined the three elements that give today's imperialism its moral force: punitive idealism, free-market absolutism, and right-wing Christian mobilization" but then things get complicated, for example "it was Carter, not Reagan who began to increase the military budget at the expense of social services" and it was Jimmy Carter who created the Rapid Deployment Force, to be used "pre-emptively" in trouble spots around the world (he supported the mujahideen six months before the Russians invaded Afghanistan) and it was Carter who vowed to protect the Persian Gulf region "by any means necessary" and, believe it or not, it was Donald Rumsfeld and Dick Cheney who blindsided Henry Kissinger and his Realpolitik, and the two of them pushed for a "morality plank" in American diplomacy and a world political view based on "a belief in the rights of man, the rule of law, and guidance by the hand of God" instead of secrecy, coercion, and undue concessions . . . which makes the whole Abu Ghraib thing quite ironic.

Let's Enter the Mind of My Child

So I'm at the Chinese restaurant with my dad and my brother and the waiter brings us little plates for our dumplings, and my little plate is a bit damp (and if I thought about this for a moment, I would surmise that it's damp from being washed, but I don't like to think about things until after I do them) and so I wipe the water droplets off the plate with my shirt, the dirty, sweat soaked shirt I've been wearing all morning at soccer camp so now the plate is dry but filth-encrusted, and I'm totally happy.

The (Slightly Insane) Case of the Missing Teeth

My nine year old son Ian had a rough time at the dentist on Monday; he had two teeth pulled-- or, as his pediatric dentist euphemistically put it, "wiggled out"--  and though he was brave during the procedure, by the time he got home he was crying from the pain, clutching the little orange container which held his two extracted teeth . . . but once he recovered, he realized that he was definitely going to receive some sympathy in the form of pecuniary renumeration . . . i.e. the tooth fairy, and he asked his brother for some advice on whether he should put one tooth under his pillow per night, or stick them both under at the same time, but Alex didn't know what to tell him, and so he asked me . . . though he knows full well that I know that he knows that mom is the tooth-fairy and that teeth aren't fungible currency, and so I told him he'd have to make that decision on his own, and he was laboring over it, because he has an acquisitive nature and couldn't help speculating on which strategy would net him the greater gain . . . but then when it finally came time for bed, it turned out that he misplaced his little orange container full of teeth-- the container he desperately needed in order to get in the money-- and so I helped him look for a few minutes because I wanted to get him to get to bed so that I could watch The Guild, but we couldn't find it, and so I told him not to worry about it and go to bed, that the tooth fairy would still come-- but now he was concerned that he needed to leave something else under his pillow (once he drew a tooth on a sheet of paper and exchanged that for cash, because he wanted to keep his tooth) and then my wife got involved in the search-- she started stomping around the house, angrily looking for Ian's teeth, complaining that he couldn't be trusted with anything of value-- and I was smart enough not to remind her that the teeth actually had no value on any modern commodity or currency market, because she was in some kind of mood and she was using the teeth as a metaphor for all the things that my kids lose on a daily basis (and I don't think that my wife reads this blog very often, so I'll be frank here . . . the whole incident seemed kind of insane to me, especially when she told me that it was "nice to be you, since you don't give a shit" which was totally true, I was fine with giving Ian some coin, even if he didn't have the teeth, as there was plenty of evidence that he lost them: there were two holes in his gums, I saw the teeth earlier in the day, and there were several credible witnesses to the dental procedure) and by the time Catherine finally gave up on the search for the teeth, she was so annoyed that she didn't even want to watch The Guild because she said she "wouldn't enjoy it" and so she just went to bed (and part of this had to do with me not cleaning up any of my mess from dinner, which I meant to do, but I got really engrossed in my book about U.S. interventions in Latin America, so I may have been part of the reason that my wife was annoyed about irresponsible men in our household) and then early the next morning, I found the orange container of teeth amidst some Lego vehicles on the counter in the basement, leading to a paradoxical ending to this mystery; Ian received cash money for the teeth, or for the idea of the teeth, without actually exchanging the teeth, but now the teeth are back in play-- though they have no value in our household-- so Ian's best bet to parlay this into an even greater financial windfall is to sell them to a friend on the black market.

We Can't Stop Watching the Guild

I'm not sure sure which is nerdier: actually playing a MMORPG or binge-watching a show about people who play a MMORPG.

The Guild

If you need to watch something weird and funny, and you want to consume an entire season in one sitting (and you don't require A-list actors and really good lighting) then check out Felicia Day's web-based show The Guild, which follows the rather pathetic lives of a group of massively multiplayer online role-playing gamers as they navigate both the virtual and actual world (and I might add that in the first two seasons, there is absolutely no LARPing . . . which may or may not entice you to watch, depending on just how annoying and absurd you think LARPing is).

Non-Fiction/Fiction/Non-fiction Drug War Sandwich

I was so enthralled by Don Winslow's brutal and intense semi-fictional account of America's war on drugs (Power of the Dog) that I decided to read some non-fiction on the subject; after a bit of research I decided to purchase the Kindle version of Ioan Grillo's El Narco: Inside Mexico's Criminal Insurgency . . . and a few pages into it, one of the anecdotes sounded familiar, and so I checked this blog and it turns out I read Grillo's book exactly two years ago . . . but even though I felt like an idiot for purchasing a book that I once borrowed from the library, now the story makes a lot more sense -- I know which characters are real, which are fictional, and which are fictionalized versions of real people: I highly recommend both of these books, and there is one more book on this topic that I want to tackle-- because I've heard such great things about it-- a non-fiction account by Elaine Shannon called Desperados: Latin Druglords, U.S. Lawmen, and the War America Can't Win. 

Sun, Sand, Salt, and Seaweed

You know you're on vacation when-- after a brisk run on the beach and a refreshing swim in the ocean-- you take a warm relaxing shower in the outdoor stall and pull a ball of seaweed out of your crack.

The Bull Revisited (But Better)

Nine years ago in Sea Isle City, the Springfield Inn had an electric bull and for five dollars you could ride as much as you liked, so we rode the thing all night -- we rode it until the operator wanted to kill us (and tried his best) and we woke up the next morning with sore legs, calloused hands, and  chafed inner thighs . . . Wednesday night history repeated itself, except the bull was at La Costa, the operator was much more pleasant, and we only rode a few times each . . . and then we realized the real purpose of the contraption: one cute woman after another mounted the thing (some of them wearing short skirts) and the operator made sure that these ladies lasted a long time atop the bull, which the crowd enjoyed enormously.

My Skin Hurts (But in a Good Way)

The weather has been so clear, crisp and sunny in Sea Isle City the past week that I'm looking forward to some rain . . . do people who live in San Diego eventually get annoyed with all the brightness and low humidity?

What Else Is in There?

While we were walking along Corson Inlet to the Strathmere Bay, to do some creature collecting on the sandbars, we saw a guy throw a dragnet into the inlet and he pulled out two puffer fish and a seahorse.

Sometimes Ignorance is Bliss

If you like your novels with extra torture, then read Don Winslow's fantastic, Ellroy-esque tale of Mexican drug cartels, DEA agents, and all the players in between them . . . The Power of the Dog will immerse you in a world you wish did not exist . . . and probably make you think legalizing drugs is a better option than what happened (or may have happened-- like James Ellroy, Winslow translates his hypotheses into prose with the verisimilitude of fact).

I've Still Got It . . .

Though it's been a three year hiatus, I've still got the remarkable ability to count to four at just the right moment in the bridge of "Born to Run" . . . I thought that era of my life was over, but after a candid discussion with LeCompt about addiction and recovery-- and I won't go into details to protect all parties involved-- Dom and Connell reminded him that I'm the guy who is especially adept at counting, and -- as usual-- after I performed my bit, I got several high fives from random folks at the bar, who were duly impressed by my special purpose.

Mix and Match Your Way to Fabulous Wealth and Riches

According to Erik Brynjolfsson and Andrew McAfee's book The Second Machine Age: Work, Progress, and Prosperity in a Time of Brilliant Technologies, you don't always need something big and new to spur technological growth; progress often occurs because of "recombinant innovation" . . . you take the resources you have and rearrange them; e.g. Facebook and Google cars and Waze . . . so if you want to innovate, just combine current technologies in ways people haven't: a Vitamix/ drone . . . a rectal thermometer/ whip antennae . . . an iPad/ TV tray . . . see, it's easy!