Fuck John Wooden

Beloved UCLA coach John Wooden famously said: "The true test of a man's character is what he does when no one is watching," but what if you think no one is watching? . . . or-- more precisely-- what if you think no one is listening? because we've got to have some time off from all this good behavior-- it's not like we can maintain perfect character every waking moment-- so I was minding my own business, extricating a bike one of my children had cavalierly chucked into our bike shed, so that I could get my own bike out, and both bikes fell over . . . and my bike shed (custom built by yours truly) is under our porch, so it's a bit cramped in there and so when both bikes fell over, I let out a stream of expletives that would have made a teamster blush-- which was the only way to express my frustration with the state of the shed, the state of my aging body, the carelessness of my children, and my general annoyance with how tangled up bikes can get with one another . . . but, of course, I thought this was fine because I was sequestered away in a safe spot where I was certain no one was listening, but I forgot that my neighbor's porch happens to be rather close to the shed-- two Leyland cypress block the line of site, but they did not block or censor my profanity, and -- of course-- he happened to be on his porch and heard my puerile tirade and so he sincerely and sympathetically asked me if I was okay-- he assumed that I had been gravely injured, but I sheepishly told him I was fine, just frustrated, and if John Wooden hadn't died seven years ago, I would love to give him a serious chewing out, as I'm tired of this surveillance state Panopticon and ready to retire to the deep woods, where a man can reflect on a tangled nest of bikes in any manner he chooses.

Spoiler: It's Better to Watch the Love Grow

There have been a number of academic studies indicating that people enjoy stories more when they are provided with spoilers, and I've got some empirical evidence to support this argument: a student in my Creative Writing class (a rambunctious little senior named Haley) told me that she always checks with Reality Steve to find out who wins The Bachelor before she begins watching, and when I asked why she would want to ruin the drama she gave me an incredibly fulfilling explanation: "then you can sit back and watch the love grow."


If You Have a Brain, Don't Read This . . .

A foreboding contrast in style and logic:

1) President Obama's interview about healthcare on The Weeds: Obama is clear, knowledgeable, logical, and totally candid; he offers a challenge to Republicans-- he would love to endorse a transparent healthcare plan that does things better than the Affordable Care Act; Obama comports himself with intelligence, grace, and style and shows comprehensive understanding of the healthcare system, healthcare markets and economics, and the science of medicine . . .

versus

2) Donald Trump's muddled conspiratorial medical gobbledygook-- he's asked anti-vaxxer Robert Kennedy Jr. to head a commission on vaccine safety . . . despite the fact that all links between vaccines and autism have been debunked (Jenny McCarthy aside) but Trump also brilliantly avoids looking like a total lunatic, as he has vaccinated his children-- just on his own schedule, a slower, very "conservative" schedule . . . thus claiming his own bizarre, unfounded (but appealing to a certain sort of maverick renegade Trump supporter) middle ground . . .

and these two polemically opposed rhetorical methods illustrate the same lesson as Marshall Curry's excellent political documentary Street Fight . . . disenfranchised folks don't want statistics and numbers and policy debate, they want a compelling narrative that explains why forces beyond their control have conspired against them, and a roguish hero, with the same imperfections they possess, who is willing to fight the forces of academic logic and intellectual elitism, using any means necessary . .  . though he's a Democrat, Sharpe James would be a welcome addition to Trumpland!

Dave Might Be a Wordist!

In the newest Hidden Brain podcast, linguist John McWhorter argues that it is the nature of language to change, and it is the nature of old people to argue that the changes are indicative of degradation and decay . . . but living languages always change-- words, context, diction, usage, style-- there's no stopping the changes because the changes are inevitable, and while it might irk and irritate older people, or people educated a certain way, McWhorter believes that once a critical mass of people are using a certain word or phrase or context, you can't claim that that usage is "wrong," and he thinks that the last vestiges of socially approved prejudice are for language usage-- in civilized society, you can't stereotype people for race, gender, religion, or sexuality-- but you can still make broad judgements based on language usage . . . and he's convinced me; I've always told my students that "language is a river," yet I paradoxically correct people when they use "lay" when they mean "lie" . . . and I used to correct people when they said "nauseous" when they meant "nauseated" . . . I gave up the latter because I recognized that a critical mass had shifted the usage, and I'm going to quit the "lie" and "lay" business as well . . . because I don't want to be a wordist (or an anti-dentite!)

The Internet Is NOT For Porn, It's For Building a Vivarium



Although the broadway puppet comedy Avenue Q proclaims that "The Internet is For Porn," the lyrics are very wrong-- the internet isn't for porn, it's for nerds, and so when Saturday's unexpected winter storm aborted our plan to go lizard shopping, and I started browsing around on the internet, I ended up learning how to build a self-cleaning bioactive small lizard vivarium-- and so now Ian's Xmas lizard has morphed into a much more fascinating project: we ordered lots of weird stuff on Amazon, such as Hydroballs (lightweight expanded clay terrarium substrate) and substrate mesh and New Zealand moss and a magnetic shelf feeding bowl and a UVB bulb and several other layers of substrate and a thermometer and a cork round and I researched the proper plants to put in the vivarium and we're going to eventually add springtails and isopods, which will eat the lizard feces . . . so what I initially thought was going to be a little jail cell for a lizard is now going to be a deluxe crib . . . and all because of those folks willing to nerd it up on the internet . . . check out the above video for some terrarium porn!

The Test 72: Happy Apocalyptic New Year!

This week on The Test, hunker down with the gang and get ready for the inevitable . . . the end of days are near, but this eschatological primer (provided by Cunningham, in the true spirit of the theme, without any technology) will prepare you for what's coming . . . and there is no doubt that we've got our bases covered: Stacey brings the guns, Cunningham purveys the spiritual nonsense, and I provide the useless information.

Ronald Reagan = Ronald McDonald

If you're looking for more reasons to hate Ronald Reagan and Ronald McDonald, here they are: in the late 70s, the Federal Trade Commission put out a report that ran over 6,000 pages, with undeniable testimony from experts that children could not understand the difference between content and advertising and thus warranted special protection in this regard-- many countries banned advertising to children entirely (Norway and Quebec) and in most other countries severely restricted it . . . but not the United States:

"When Reagan appointed Mark S. Fowler as commissioner of the FCC on May 18, 1981, children's television would change dramatically . . . Fowler championed market forces as the determinant of broadcasting content, and thus oversaw the abolition of every advertising regulation that had served as a guide for broadcasters . . . in Fowler's estimation, the question of whether children had the ability to discriminate between the ads and the entertainment was a moot point; the free market, and not organizations such as ACT would decide the matter . . ."

and after the US deregulated, Ronald McDonald and his evil minions took over the airwaves-- it became impossible to discern between the show and the commercial (He-Man, G.I. Joe, My Little Pony, Transformers, etc) which led to some fairly awful animated art, as the show was beholden to the tie-in merchandise . . . and the rest of the advertising to kids was for sugary cereals, candy, and fast food . . . with plenty of pester power . . . you've got to catch 'em all . . . and then Ronald Reagan was given a second chance to save the children at the end of his presidency, in 1988 . . . a second chance to differentiate himself from a crazy burger-pushing clown, but he declined; a new bill to limit advertising to children sailed through the Senate and passed in the House 328-78, and was even approved by the National Association of Broadcasters, but Reagan vetoed it-- he actually "pocket vetoed" it-- claiming the bill was unconstitutional and violated freedom of speech, and that businesses could purvey whatever wares to children they wanted, in any shape or form, on our public airwaves, despite the fact that it was fairly despicable in practice (and also a contributor to childhood obesity) and because we live in America, if there's not a law, then it's a free-for-all (unlike some of the countries that regulate themselves in this department, such as Great Britain) and so Reagan cemented his legacy as another Ronald who is willing to sacrifice our children to the Greater Gods of Corporate America.

Lizard Music

We are headed to NJ Exotic Pets in Lodi tomorrow, to buy a lizard . . . but we aren't sure what kind; Ian keeps calling the store and asking if they have certain obscure lizards in stock, and while I'm a little nervous about our actual visit to the pet store-- I don't know much about lizard pricing and care-- but I truly enjoy his phone calls to the store and could listen to them all day long . . . they go something like this:

"Hello . . . I was wondering if you have any forest armadillo lizards in stock?

No?

Are you getting some soon?

No?

Okay . . .

(pause for some internet research)

Hello . . . I was wondering if you have any fire skinks in stock?

No?

Are you getting some soon?

No?

Okay."

Let Sleeping Birds Lie

This morning, while I was walking the dog in the 6 AM winter darkness, I nearly stepped on a bird; it was sleeping soundly, hidden in a leaf pile on the edge of the sidewalk, warm and comatose, dreaming of moist soil and wriggling worms, until I disturbed it . . . and then it fluttered off, scattering leaves and scaring the shit out of me.

And You Thought 2016 Was Wild?

Bill Bryson's book One Summer: America, 1927 uses a few months to paint a portrait of an America rolling precipitously into strange, new places, even faster than the America of today: Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig invented the home run derby, Sacco and Vanzetti were executed, Al Capone reigned, eugenics and involuntary sterilization were all the rage, Hollywood pumped out 800 feature length movies a year . . . and filmed it's first big "talkie," the Jazz Singer, Dempsey fought Tunney, The Federal Reserve cut interest rates which precipitated the stock market crash, Italians were regarded as a dangerous ethnic group, Gutzon Borglum began Mount Rushmore, Calvin Coolidge did nothing, the Mississippi flooded monumentally, Herbert Hoover supervised flood management, a lunatic blew up a school in Michigan and killed forty-four children, Henry Ford stopped production on the Model T Ford and began planning Fordlandia, a doomed model city and rubber plantation in Brazil, Shipwreck Kelly sat on a flagpole in Newark for 12 days, and Charles Lindbergh was adored by zillions, a consequence of his daring solo flight across the Atlantic (this is before his child was kidnapped, before he associated himself with the Nazis, and before it was discovered that he had several secret families).

2016 Book List

Here's what I read in 2016 (and despite reading nearly a book a week, I feel dumber than ever) and if you head over to Gheorghe: The Blog, you can see my eleven favorites . . . and if you're really feeling crazy and literary, you can check out my previous lists, but if you're going to read one book on this list, I would suggest Death Comes to the Archbishop by Willa Cather . . . I've read it twice, and I'll bet I'll read it again someday . . . anyway, here they are-- it's a little scary for me when I peruse this list, because I can't remember all that much about some of the titles, but I guess that's what happens when you read too much;

1) Trunk Music (Michael Connelly)

2) Hide & Seek (Ian Rankin)

3) Our Kids: The American Dream in Crisis Robert D. Putnam

4) One Plus One Jojo Moyes

5) Andrea Wulf The Invention of Nature: Alexander Humboldt's New World

6) Death Comes to the Archbishop (Willa Cather)

7) The Milagro Beanfield War (John Nichols)

8) Agent to the Stars (John Scalzi)

9) The Undercover Economist Strikes Back: How to Run-- or Ruin-- an Economy (Tim Harford)

10) Tim Harford The Undercover Economist

11) The Expatriates (Janice Y. K. Lee)

12) Tim Harford The Logic of Life: The Rational Economics of an Irrational World

13) Dale Russakoff  The Prize: Who's In Charge of America's Schools?

14) Charlie Jane Anders All the Birds in the Sky

15) Mohamed A. El-Erian  The Only Game in Town: Central Banks, Instability, and Avoiding the Next Collapse

16) Brideshead Revisited: The Sacred & Profane Memories of Captain Charles Ryder (Evelyn Waugh)

17) The Power of Habit:Why We Do What We Do in Life and Business by Charles Duhigg

18) Angels Flight (Michael Connelly)

19) Robert J. Gordon  The Rise and Fall of American Growth: The U.S. Standard of Living Since the Civil War

20) Tony Hillerman A Thief of Time

21) Peter Frankopan Silk Roads: A New History of the World

22) Tony Hillerman Hunting Badger

23) Tony Hillerman Listening Woman

24) Tony Hillerman The Wailing Wind

25) The Lost World of the Old Ones:Discoveries in the Ancient Southwest David Roberts

26) Roadside Picnic (The Strugatsky Brothers)

27) Chuck Klosterman But What If We're Wrong?: Thinking About the Present as if It Were the Past

28) White Sands: Experiences from the Outside World by Geoff Dyer

29) The Inevitable: Understanding the 12 technological forces that will Shape our future by Kevin Kelly

30) Annihilation by Jeff Vandermeer

31) Three Men in a Boat (To Say Nothing of the Dog) Jerome K. Jerome

32) Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind by Yuval Noah Harari

33) Truly Madly Guilty Liane Moriarty

34) Seinfeldia by Jennifer Keishin Armstrong

35) Weapons of Math Destruction: How Big Data Increases Inequality and Threatens Democracy by Cathy O'Neil

36) Ghosts by Reina Telgemeier

37) The Walking Dead 23-26

38) The Short and Tragic Life of Robert Peace: A Brilliant Young Man Who Left Newark For the Ivy Leagues by Jeff Hobbs

39) The Nix by Nathan Hill

40) Bill Bryson The Road to Little Dribbling: Adventures of an American in Britain

41) Tim Wu The Attention Merchants: The Epic Scramble to Get Inside Our Heads

42) Colson Whitehead The Underground Railroad

43) Nicholson Baker Substitute

44) The Ocean of Life: The Fate of Man and the Sea by Callum Roberts

45) Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of Family and Culture in Crisis by J.D. Vance.


Back to Jersey . . . Blech

We had a phenomenal family vacation in Westminster, Vermont:

1) the storm that beat us back and made us postpone snowboarding became a cloud with a silver lining, as the crowds at Bromley emptied out on New Year's Eve and New Year's Day and there was plenty of powder . . . if you stayed on the right side of the trail, where the wind piled the snow, it was almost like being out west-- my kids had a blast, after six years of snowboarding, it was the first time they ever got to experience decent conditions-- and they are getting brave, going into the woods, trying out jumps, and getting quite comfortable on the mountain;

2) I kicked ass at the board games-- we were in what was essentially a one-room cabin (with two bedrooms) so we had a lot of together time and played many rounds of Carcassonne-- and I won them all!-- and I also won at Settlers of Catan and Ticket to Ride, games which I do not usually win . . . and that's the real purpose of this blog, to note these great victories, so I can refer to them many years hence when my kids try to revise history;

2.5) I learned that my snowboarding boots are a size and a half too big and that's why my heels were lifting and I felt out of control on my board the past two seasons . . . when I told the Bromley boot tech that I bought my boots in Jersey at my local ski shop, he said, "Would you buy a surfboard in the mountains?"

3) I brought back lots of great beer . . . local brews like Switchback and Conehead and Rock Art and Goodwater, and some Sixpoint Global Warmer, which I can never seem to find in Jersey, even though it's from Brooklyn;

4) we ate several times at the Moon Dog Cafe in Chester, and my wife and I wondered why we don't have any places like this around here;

5) there was loads of snow, and my kids and I built a fantastically dangerous sled run through the woods-- I rode the orange plastic toboggan down it and got airborne-- and it was just nice to hike around the property, which was hilly and heavily wooded;

6) my wife enjoyed watching the fireworks from our bedroom window, a farm across the way shot them off and they looked quite spectacular through the trees and arcing over the snow fields;

7) the cabin had Netflix, and aside from Saving Private Ryan, all we watched was episode after episode of 30 Rock . . . I love that show, and my kids love it too;

and then we hit Massachusetts, and the snow was gone, and then it started to rain, and when we finally pulled onto our road, I looked down into Donaldson Park and there was a huge flock of geese, in the mud, shitting everywhere . . . and unless it snows soon, that's going to be the scenery for the next two months-- mud, goose shit, and damp, cloudy weather.

Set the Bar Low

It's hard to set the bar lower than my resolutions for the last couple of years, but I think I've done it: this year (so that my pants don't fall down, a struggle I've been having recently) I resolve to wear a belt when I wear blue jeans.

All's Well That Ends Well When the Well Delivers Running Water

An excellent end to 2016: a great day of snowboarding/skiing at Bromley Mountain . . . or a great day of East Coast snowboarding/skiing-- some decent snow on the ground, only a couple of icy patches, no lift lines, fairly warm (20s) and no major crashes; Ian did have one moment when he thought he was going to barf (he didn't) probably due to the combination of being overdressed in the steamy lodge and too much hot chocolate, but he recovered and did another run, where he zipped into the woods and then inadvertently did a jump back onto the trail . . . I'll be happy when my kids are old enough to navigate the mountain on their own, so I don't have to watch them; we then had a fantastic lunch at The New American Grill in Londonderry-- highly recommended-- and I had another laudable Vermont beer: Zero Gravity Cone Head IPA . . . and then the kids had enough energy to do some runs on the superfast and super scary sled run we built on a trail in the woods below the cabin, now that we've ridden it numerous times, the trail is slick and extraordinarily dangerous, especially when riding the orange plastic toboggan . . . I took some video, and I'll post it eventually-- the sled run has a cartoonishly Calvin and Hobbes quality to it-- there's jumps and bumps and logs to dodge and a sapling tree we bent out of the way that might turn catapult at any moment-- so I'm glad everyone is inside now, safe and sound and I'm sure we'll be asleep long before midnight, so we can do it again tomorrow . . . and I've come up with an extremely practical (and achievable) resolution, which I'll post sometime tomorrow.

Running Water Kicks Ass

Robert Gordon's book The Rise and Fall of American Growth asserts that some economic advances are unrepeatable-- technological innovations such refrigeration, air-conditioning, television, air travel, and motor vehicles are probably never going to be surpassed-- and thus, the era of massive economic growth is coming to an end; running water and indoor plumbing are in this exalted category, and though we survived a day without running water, flushing the toilet with melted snow, we were very happy when the well started pumping again this morning-- we were able to shower, brush our teeth, go to the bathroom conveniently, and do the dishes . . . and this also freed us up to do other leisure activities (just as all those major advances created massive economic opportunities) and we built a wild and fast sled run through the woods-- Catherine set a new landspeed record-- and played Settlers of Catan (I won, but more significantly, Ian bult a wall across the island, blocking all our advances and Alex called him Donald Trump and then Ian tried to engineer an absurd trade with me so he could bolster his wall and Alex said, "He's making you pay for it, Dad! You're Mexico!") and then Cat and I dug the car out-- we got over a foot of snow-- and we drove down 91 and ate lunch at the Whetstone Station in Brattleboro (I finally tried some Hill Farmstead beer: Edward  and I pronounced it very very good, also had Legitimacy IPA, almost as excellent . . . wish I could find cans of this stuff in the stores here) and we wandered around town until we found a couple of new sleds for the boys (the old ones were fairly shredded) and some very good coffee and some houseplants for my home improvement project . . . you'll have to see it on Pinterest, and we plan on getting up early tomorrow to go snowboarding-- I was quite impressed by the job the plows and sanders did on the roads, even the dirt ones, so we should be able to make it west through the mountains to Bromley . . . and all this vacation stuff was made possible by running water . . . aside from the dog's vacation dream: he found a frozen dead mouse on the porch and ate it.

Snow Snow Everywhere . . . And You Can Drink It If You Have To

On the map, Westminster, Vermont looks fairly close to Bromley Mountain (Google Maps and my GPS say 22 miles) but we learned today that this is on dirt roads, which are passable if the weather is good . . . but once it started to snow folks along the way warned us that we'd better have a shovel and blankets if we wanted to get home later in the afternoon-- so we moved our lift tickets to Saturday and Sunday, stocked up on food and beer, and beat a hasty retreat back to the cabin at Windsor, and the snow has been falling all day and doesn't show any sign of letting up . . . we'll probably be snowed in tomorrow and, as an added wrinkle, the pipes appear to have frozen (or there's been a water main break) because we've got no running water . . . and we've got no cell-service, so we can't call a plumber or the town municipal office, but there's plenty of snow to melt if need be (for the kids) and I have beer and we showered last night, so I think we'll be okay (although I guess if anyone has to defecate, they're going to have to do it outside in the snow).

A Meditation on Vacation Juxtaposition

Our first day of vacation in the woods of Vermont was an odd mix of country living and science-fiction:

1) I supervised a wood delivery (the truck driver was very pleasant, but when he dumped the wood, he missed the tarp . . . the driveway was fairly icy);

2) our dog tried to eat a chicken;

3) Ian set up his Anki OVERDRIVE track in the main and only room of the cabin, under the only table, so he could race Alex . . . the track is wide and magnetic, and you use a cell-phone or Ipad to steer the cars and deploy digital weapons and force fields and such, which then affect the actual physical cars zipping around the track;

4) Alex played with his BB-8 app controlled droid robot-- he taught it some voice commands and made it navigate an obstacle course;

5) the kids built a snow fort and did some sledding, and incorporated their battery-powered Nerf machine gun into both activities;

6) we drove to Brattleboro and walked out on the frozen river to get a closer look at the ice fishing shacks, while I bored the children with a description of the ice industry in the 1900's;

7) we tasted delicious cheeses at the Grafton Village Cheese Shop and then hiked the retreat trails behind the farm, climbing the mountain overlooking the river and then passing the Ice Pond and the Harris Hill Ski Jump . . . I had never seen an Olympic-style ski jump up close-- it's much steeper, bigger, and monumental than I thought;

8) we ate at the Whetstone Restaurant and Brewery . . . and it may be my favorite place in the world: a great view of the Connecticut River from the bar and nearly every table, wide selection of delicious and obscure beers-- and fairly cheap too . . . the beer they brew themselves is only $4.95 a glass-- the food is awesome, and they kept giving us free stuff: the beer I ordered was kicked, so the waitress brought me a taste of the Off the Rails Imperial Double Black IPA, which sounds insane but it was delicious . . . so I ordered it, and then she brought me another tasting pour, which someone didn't want, and then she brought me another full glass of the beer, because the bartender had poured too many . . . by the time we left I was feeling quite good . . . and she also gave the kids free cookies, and to continue sci-fi/country-living theme, the beer menus were on little tablet devices so you could scroll through the many types and descriptions, while everything else about the place said Vermont-style microbrewery;

9) once we returned to the cabin--  in the spirit of a family vacation in the woods-- we started a fire and sat down to play a board game . . . we decided to play a new one (for us) that we got for Xmas: Carcassonne . . . but it's fairly complicated and while we don't have cell-service, we do have wi-fi, and so we watched a couple YouTube videos which explained the rules of the game and then we were able to play (I won!) without the usual bumbling (it took us six or seven times to learn Settlers of Catan);

10) the cabin doesn't have a DVD player but it does have a big TV and Netflix, so we finished the evening with a 30 Rock marathon, our new favorite family indulgence . . . how could you live out in the woods without Russian mobs, invisible motorcycles and sex pooping?

Country Living Lesson #1

After a violent bout of freezing rain last night, we are enjoying some unseasonably warm Vermont weather today; Catherine and I took the dog on a hike down the dirt road, and we met the neighbors . . . and Sirius met the neighbor's dog-- and everyone was friendly and social and having a good time, until Sirius attempted to eat the neighbor's chickens, which I found embarrassing at first, until the neighbor-lady told us that her dog had actually eaten one of her mother's chickens . . . so now I know that my dog, if given the chance, will eat a chicken, and if he's in the vicinity of a chicken coop, he needs to be monitored carefully to avoid this pastoral faux pas (this information is going to come in handy when I buy a farm).

Bonus Sentence: You Can Never Pack Too Much

Despite some freezing rain and wacky conflicts between the GPS, Google Maps, and MapQuest, we made it to our Vermont AirBnB rental cabin in the woods without incident . . . and I suppose I shouldn't have questioned all the packing . . . I didn't think my kids needed to bring the semi-automatic Nerf machine-gun they won in a steal-a-gift on New Year's Eve, nor did I think they needed to bring the Star Wars themed bobble-head dolls, but they set up a nifty shooting gallery from the top bunk bed-- the idea is to knock down as many bobble-heads as you can with one clip of Nerf ammo, and they haven't bickered with each other in over an hour-- a world record-- so the moral is: if you've got a minivan, you might as well fill it up.

Doing the Snow Dance

Perfunctory sentence . . . we are in the midst of packing everything we own into the minivan so that we can transport it to a tiny cabin in the woods of Vermont.
A New Sentence Every Day, Hand Crafted from the Finest Corinthian Leather.