Shingles Shot, Part One

My wife and I got our first dose of the shingles vaccine, Shingrix, today-- I was reluctant because I heard it bangs you up a bit but a couple of our friends really got hammered with rough cases of the actual shingles virus-- awful blistering and stroke-like effects, so I listened to my wife and got the shot- and it did make my arm sore and after I biked to the pool and swam, I came home and collapsed on the couch with a sore neck and slept for two hours while half-watching "Bojack Horseman" and then I cooked some flank steak, took a Naproxen and felt pretty much better . . . but I hear the second shot is the one that wrecks you.

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

Like the Bard himself, I got a bit long-winded in Part One of this introduction to the life, times, and art of Shakespeare-- sorry!-- but I had a plethora of thoughts (loosely) based on A Year in the Life of William Shakespeare:1599 by James Shapiro, Shakespeare: The World as a Stage by Bill Bryson, The Elizabethan World Picture by E.M.W. Tillyard and countless years of teaching Shakespeare to high school students . . . Special Guests: Tim the Enchanter, Cole Porter, and the Bard.

Who Is One DJ Who Has Been in Zman's New Kitchen?

Kool DJ Red Alert and my wife

When my buddy Zman promised that "Kool DJ Red Alert" would be handling the music at his "Old Man, New Kitchen" birthday/remodeling party, I didn't think much of it-- I figured either he had an alter-ego named "Kool DJ RedAlert" or a friend that did some DJing . . . but goes to show what I know-- Kool DJ RedAlert is an Antiguan-American disc jockey who rose to fame on WRKS 98.7 Kiss FM in New York City and is recognized as one of the founding fathers of hip hop music and culture . . . we've seen him in documentaries, he produced music with the Jungle Brothers, he "holds the all-time record for the most guest appearances among all hip hop artists and personalities in the history of the music video" and he was one of the founders of the mixtape-- he's the bomb and watching him in Zman's living room, while he created mixes and beats underneath classic hip-hop, 80s grooves, yacht rock, and every other kind of pop music-- in 30-second blasts of sonic excitement, seamless transitioning and matching beats, by spinning those platters, was fabulous fun . . . not just a party, but an auditory/educational experience.

Cool DJ Green Alert

When TV is Infinite, Every Show is Insignificant

After recommendations from numerous trustworthy people, my wife and I tried watching the Shogun reboot-- but apparently we only like Japanese drama if the main character is a fiery-breathing 350-foot irradiated lizard . . . we are enjoying the Netflix sci-fi/time travel diamond-in-the-rough Travelers . . . I don't know how we missed this one-- or I DO know exactly how we missed it: there are too many fucking TV shows.

Incentive to Bike

This heat is stupid . . . and it feels even more stupid inside my minivan-- the A/C died for the second time a few months ago and it just doesn't seem worth it to resuscitate it again.

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 . . .

 

According to my wife, there are two kinds of vacuumers: meticulous (her) and just-get-the-job-done (me).

(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

I was left to my own devices today because I have off from school for Eid al-Adha but my wife does not-- and while I accomplished a number of constructive tasks: I biked to the gym and lifted some weights, did the dishes, got a new tank of propane gas for the grill, helped my neighbor move a rug and a table, swam a few laps at the pool, read my book, picked up my son in New Brunswick and took him to the pharmacy to get prescription eye drops, did some yard work, stole a couple of rocks from the park, put away a bunch of laundry, put protective wax on the dog's paws and walked her, and took a nap-- I also consumed a massive amount of sugar, mainly while playing online speed chess-- I ate some Haribo gummy peaches around 10:30 AM;  after lunch, I drank a Coke in a glass bottle with cane sugar-- delicious; and I consumed a bunch of Haribo gummy bears around 4:30 PM . . . I guess this is what happens when I'm home alone and I don't drink as much coffee as usual.

Wood!

It's been a lovely Fathers Day (or Father's Day, whichever you prefer) and I haven't even had a beer yet-- early this morning I noticed that the dome lights were on in the van, but despite Ian's idiocy, the battery still worked-- so good thing I noticed early-- then I played some morning pickleball with Alec, Ann, and Ashley-- just the four of us so we really tried out a lot of new strategies and shots . . . I am gradually learning that pickleball is NOT tennis-- and then I went over to the pool and swam a few laps-- the water was still cold, but that actually helped my sore knees and calf-- like a lizard, I had to lie in full sun to warm up-- and then I ate a lemongrass and beef ban mi sandwich-- thanks to my wife-- and received some Father's Day loot: a new hat, giant beer pong, some swim goggles that actually fit, a couple t-shirts, and my younger son Ian gave me this nifty little wooden guitar-- which splits in two (and reseals magnetically) and has wooden picks inside-- and I had never played guitar with a wooden pick but I really like it-- especially because plastic picks always slip out of my fingers, but these wooden picks really have a grip to them-- and now we're about to head to my parents to see the rest of the gang-- and super-bonus-- I have off from school tomorrow because of Eid.

 

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

It's the last Friday of the school year, so this is the last day students will enter my classroom and enjoy my avant-garde blinds-- which make the statement: the world is a fucked up place, especially technology, but in the end, it doesn't matter how things look, as long as they get the job done (the same might be said about my minivan).

Lunch Surprise!

I was already pleased that both boys could make it to sushi lunch today-- it's Ian's birthday (he's 19 . . . wtf?) and he's actually got some mobility now-- he's walking, albeit slowly, in a supportive boot-- and Alex has been busy working at Tavern on George-- he's making his way in the restaurant biz . . . he's already been promoted from host to server and he's been working a shitload of hours-- and he made enough cash that he treated us to a Father's Day/Birthday Lunch . . . always a surprise when your college-aged kid reaches for the check (and he seems to really like the bustle of restaurant work, unlike the boredom of last summer's disaster of a job-- lifeguarding at condo pools . . . so perhaps he won't get fired at this job).

The Groundlings Were Grungy in the 1590s

Though it gets a bit technical at times, James Shapiro's book A Year in the Life of Shakespeare:1599 truly illustrates that though The Bard's writing appears to be timeless, Shakespeare himself was truly a man of his times and a man determined-- through his writing-- to push forward, artistically and financially . . . the book details the impact the Globe Theater-- built by Shakespeare and his acting company to exacting specifications-- had on the most experienced playgoers in the history of theater-- Shakespeare broke free of the clowning and the jig, and wrote and directed some of the most politically, linguistically, and emotionally ambiguous and complex plays ever written-- artistry that was even more compelling in Elizabethan England than it is now-- while his plays are still astounding, they are but a "walking shadow" to how they must have been received in London in 1599-- when the allusions resonated, the inventive language was newly coined, and the political turmoil in his histories was reflective of the same issues faced by Elizabeth and Essex and the rest of the nobles of England.

Upon Even Further Reflection (and some looking around)

I'm pretty sure my van is the shittiest vehicle in the teacher parking lot.

Upon Further Reflection . . .

 

Yet another wedding-- this one out in the beautiful hills just outside of Branchburg, at Neshanick Valley Golf Course . . . Paul and Sharon tied the knot and they couldn't have had a better day-- and my wife and I serendipitously met my son Ian's girlfriend's father . . . he was half of the wedding band, a duo that performed some unusual wedding songs: "Ring of Fire" and The Cure's "Lovesong"-- but the real question is: where are the lanternflies?

Bamboozled

 

I planted some tiny specimens of fargesia rufa clumping bamboo along our fenceline back in 2013 and then I let it grow-- unchecked-- until it grew much larger and more jungly than the photo above; I really enjoyed this dense evergreen foliage, even though it was making our backyard smaller and smaller-- and my wife allowed it because she knew how much pleasure I derived from looking out at this thick dense bamboo jungle, for various reasons:

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)

Today was the last day of classes at my high school-- next week is exams-- and the day started in a lovely fashion, I played morning hoops and I made my very first shot-- a three-pointer to win the game-- and, after much sweating, fouling, rebounding, and running around-- I made my last shot-- another three-pointer to win the game (and who remembers all those missed shots in the middle? nobody!) and then I walked off the court, happily, and into the locker room, where I showered up and prepared for an easy half-day of yearbook signing (or makeshift yearbook signing since the school collected back all the yearbooks because of the yearbook debacle) and watching "Trini 2 DE Bone" the Hamlet 5.1/alas poor Yorick/Laertes jumping into the grave adjacent Atlanta episode-- but then things took an odd turn: we were watching the eulogies for Sylvia and a student from one of my other classes walked in, and-- some context-- the seniors can be exempt from exams, if they have certain grades or have completed certain requirements, it's teacher's discretion, and its a nice senior privilege-- but this student had cut the last two classes and hadn't taken the test that was required to get an exemption form (which needs to be signed by a parent or guardian) and she came into my room today and attempted to hand me an exemption form and I was like: "what? I didn't GIVE you an exemption form" and she was like "I wasn't here when you gave them out" and I was like "Okay, then you needed to come ask me for a form, not filch one and forge it and then hand it back to the originator and think they forgot that they didn't give you a form?" and then I told her to come back later when I had processed the absurdity of this event-- but she never did-- and then I wrote her up and emailed her parents and now she's coming in on exam day, the only student in that class that is coming in-- so annoying-- and she'll take the 12th Night test and some other exam that I cook up for her . . . and if she would have just asked earlier in the week, I would have told her, take the test and then I'll give you an exemption form but instead she took this oddball road, which is inconvenient to all parties involved (but I had to draw a line in the sand on this one . . . so obnoxious and entitled and just plain silly-- I can't think of the proper metaphor for this: is it like going to the DMV with a license that you made yourself and asking them to certify it? is it like giving your doctor a prescription for opioids that you wrote out yourself?)