i blame them
the longest mile
my affair with a greek woman
a night on the town
my old intro: an introduction
christening naze.net: i am naze
january 28, 2003
Today, I spent all day teaching 10 year olds. Hard work, but a very good day.
After preparing tomorrow's schedule and lessons, I got home at 6 p.m. and made dinner. Jack wasn't looking so hot: sore, constricted throat, headache, cough. Jack and I spent the next 2 1/2 hours at urgent care. Diagnosis: strep throat.
Home in time for a 9:30 p.m. dose of penicillin and an artichoke split three ways between me, Jack and David (another member of the family afflicted with late-night-person-syndrome). Nice! Bedtime preparations and then a short bedtime story.
Sitting in the glow of my PC monitor, I get the bad news. Lately, my short-term prospects for a full-time teaching job were like a soggy balloon that can't be popped with a pin. Tonight, Oregon voters stomped on it.
january 26, 2003
2 more reasons to hate the superbowl
1) Another lousy game
2) It changed ABC's programming so that they aired an epic, tectonic-plate-shifting episode of Alias an hour early. The schedule disruption resulted in my catching only the last few minutes of my absolute favorite show.
i'll take figures of speech for $500, alex
I've been reading a book where the author uses lots of simile. Lately, I've been catching myself thinking in simile.
Yesterday, I was walking to the car after exercising. It was my first workout in 2 weeks and it was like I had taken a shower on the inside.
january 25, 2003
revisiting 2 classics, separately
Adam has recently been on a bit of a tear lately and it reminds me of when I got to meet him briefly, way back at fray3. You never completely know which direction is he going to go, and I like that.
Last night, I visited Alexis' site, which I've been reading for years. (I'm suddently remembering her description of when these 2 dated, back in the 90's!) Alexis is intriguing because her site continues to evolve to reflect what engages her. I love the radio button interface, redirecting you to a different place. Still a passion, but outward, rather than inward. Sort of the opposite direction of the personal narrative that she is so well known for.
january 22, 2003
overheard in the kitchen tonight
Cathy: I'm so tired.
Elizabeth (2 years old): Why?
Cathy: Because someone in my bed last night soaked their diaper.
back in the prime time again
I just spotted my fellow Lewis & Clark College alumnus and ER character, Ted Rooney.
The commercial comes on and a very tall guy is doing a version of John Cleese's funny walk through an office jammed with furniture and filing cabinets. Upon making it to the woman at the desk on the opposite side, the camera zooms in on Ted's face and he reports, "I just talked to the guy at Office Depot, and everything is going to be just fine."
It's actually a pretty damn good commercial. Top drawer stuff again from the Roone-meister.
january 21, 2003
Have you ever hoped to receive moral support from someone who ended up seeming incapable of providing it?
january 20, 2003
brother, can you spare a 10 spot?
In Oregon, perhaps moreso than other states, has fallen upon hard times. We live in a state with a constitutionally required balanced budget, facing plummeting revenues. Our bravery-challenged Republican led House, rather than make a decision, whimped out and sent a sad inadequate, temporary fix to the voters: Measure 28. The idea - the average Oregonian pays $9.50 per month in additional income tax for the next 3 years. The money goes to ameliorate radical cuts to basic services. It would prevent laying off 100 state troopers. And it would prevent the slashing of a full month from an already embarrassingly short school year (the shortest in the nation), in addition to a host of other programs.
To my fellow Oregonians in the rural parts of our state: You've probably known for a while now that your schools have benefited greatly as a result of the tectonic tax shifts of the last 10 years. Now that you've got yours, will you reach out your hand and vote 'yes' so the rest of us can keep the lights on?
Please, if you are an Oregonian, vote 'yes' on Measure 28.
i love the smell of napalm at the audition
"'You don't mind if I film you, do you?' he [Coppola] asked rhetorically, showing a palm-sized video camera he was holding."
Another classic audition story from Wil Wheaton.
january 18, 2003
Today, I worked as a cook at a dog show concession booth (a fundraiser for my son's 5th grade trip). I thoroughly enjoyed it. I liked learning how to cook the corndogs, onion rings, polish dogs and chicken sandwiches. I dug the chance to chitchat with my son's classmates parents. And I even liked the lunch rush. However, I have no illusions about the job. I was working a short 4 hour shift. And we were very well staffed. It would be tough work to do for a living. It's been a long, long time since I have sold widgets (anything physical, including food, counts as a widget to me) for a living. It was a nice change of pace.
"Hitler can't be humanized because Hitler was already a human being."
january 16, 2003
Conceptually, 500 million years left of life on Earth should be plenty, but somehow it's still a downer to know that life and matter probably won't last (without radical transformation...into something completely alien to us).
january 13, 2003
I just finished reading the Mount Doom chapter of the Return of the King to my son, Jack. For the few of you out there unfamiliar with the Lord of the Rings, this is the climax of the 1300 page epic. I started reading LotR to him about 18 (?) months ago, just about every other night (with a short hiatus after Fellowship). I probably would have started reading it to him sometime between now and next year (he is 9.5 now) if he hadn't been so insistent.
I remember exactly where I was when I finished this chapter for my first time. I was 13 years old and living in Longview, Washington. I was up alone on the green shag-carpeted floor of our living room in the wee hours of Sunday morning, around 1 a.m. I was bursting with excitement, my heart racing as Gollum danced on the precipice of the fissure, the Ring with Frodo's finger still inside. It was one of those moments, where if anyone had actually been there they would almost uncertainly been unable to relate to where I was emotionally. It was a supremely satisfying moment. Exhausted, I went to bed, just as Jack has now.
january 12, 2003
Most of my favorite drinks seem to be served in a martini glass. If I had to choose one, I'd probably choose a Manhattan. Apparently there are a wide variety of opinions on the elements of a perfect Manhattan, but to me, it's just not right without a healthy measure of maraschino cherry juice. That's the way the bartender at the Ringside makes 'em and that's good enough for me.
Bourbon and sweet vermouth alone, do not a drink make.
I read somewhere long ago that the maraschino cherry had it's origins in Oregon, however, my research thus far has not been able corroborate that. But most maraschino cherries made in the U.S. do come from a type of cherry grown in the Pacific Northwest.
january 11, 2003
At the place where I exercise, there's a guy who I often see through the glass in the otherwise empty aerobics room. He wears black, close-fitting pants that end at about his ankles. Black socks and black curly hair. Today, he was diligently juggling pins. Occasionally he'd toss one behind his back, up over his shoulder. In the past, I've seen him balance a small ball on his nose, rotating his head until the ball rolled to the back of his neck and then returning it to his nose.
He has had a top hat that somersaulted down his arm into his hand and then leapt onto his head. And there was the time when he juggled what looked to be 7 (count 'em!) balls against the floor. I figure he's not in the circus -- he's here too often to be in the circus. There's no standing gig in Portland that I can think of that would employ the talents of such a dedicated performer. But there is something quite pleasing in the juxtaposition of the discipline of his art with the amusement that it is intended to elicit. And I'm happy to see him go through his paces as I climb my 500th set of imaginary steps on the stairmaster.
january 4, 2003
Every Saturday, I drive 6 blocks up the street to do the grocery shopping. (I usually walk for neighborhood shopping, but: a) there are way too many bags to carry, and b) many items would be ruined in the continuos winter drizzle.)
Every Saturday, I roll my cart up to checkout number 5 or 6, where Dan, a slightly nervous, balding man makes very pleasant smalltalk and is genuinely interested in what is happening in my life. Or Larry, a tall, gaunt gentleman with black hair and mustache quietly packs my groceries, asking me what game I am listening to if I have my headphones on, or trading friendly barbs with a friend of his who is behind me in line.
I don't imagine I will ever, ever use the 'serve yourself' checkout line that our store installed 2 years ago. Grocery shopping isn't a gabfest for me, but it sure as hell isn't just tossing stuff in a cart and running it over a scanner.
christopher at naze.net
when you are doing
what you said,
but they will never forget
-Carl W. Buehner