My Housemate is better than Yours: The Rose Wall

T. is rocking the garden this year.

Check out this noise -- a beautifully executed rose wall behind the bee hive on the South side of the house. Seems he set it up right, and chose the right varieties to make it happen. Just amazing.

What can I say, my Housemate is better than yours. Sorry, but it's true.






Enjoy friends who help make your life immeasurably better,

Bp

Pressing issues of the day: kitch lighting placement

So our happy household is getting together tonight to have a real, official house meeting. There are many items on the agenda, but the newest one I thought the most entertaining.

I scored this incredibly fabulous, nearly tasteless, shiny light fixture from some friends who were doing a remodel. It's made of bad fake brass, and there's one missing link in the crystal dome that I fixed with a twist of copper wire.

The pressing question is:



Is the best place for this light fixture? In the stairwell - semi hidden?

Or does it need a more central location, like the dining room, so it can truly shine.

Are we more embarrassed or entertained by it is, basically, the meat of the matter.

Enjoy the frivolous aspects of life,

Bp

Addendum: I've decided to make a poll and get your input -- click away. [I'm using a new poll generator, so probably isn't going to look too hot. I apologize to my graphic designer friends ahead of time]

I can't explain it, but I loathe movie musicals

So T. and The Wife are watching Sweeney Todd right now. Whenever people are talking, and NOT SINGING, I wander into the room and it looks really great. I mean Burton knows what he's doing, the makeup and cinematography are intriguing, the sets, etc. And then, the singing starts. I just have to walk away, I literally can't stomach it.

I don't understand where this reaction comes from. It applies especially to good old American musicals, with the modern orchestration (especially the lilting flutes -- my GOD that drives me nuts). The crescendos, the singing... the whole thing makes me want to earp.

My earliest memory of this allergy is when I was in elementary school, home sick from school to be exact. I had the tube on, was flipping channels, and I saw these 4 cool gangsters walking down the street, with their collars flipped up, their hair done up -- and I sat back to watch. Suddenly, they all hit some pose, full on jazz hands, and began to sing. It was West Side Story. I ran up to the tube and turned the dial. I was appalled.

So this has been with me for somewhere around 3 decades.

I'd love to know the root of it. If I figure it out some day I'll share with ya'll.

Enjoy being a hater,

Bp

ps/addendum: This sentiment doesn't seem to apply to live musicals. Again, a mystery.

Songs stuck in my Head Series: Pat Benatar -- Invincible

What the hell kind of full-moon, dehydrated fever-dream brought this hellish curse upon my hind brain. I woke up with this in my head. When I played the video below, T. and I were just waking up, he checking his spam folder on The Wife's computer. His comment -- "you have any idea how many times I had my hair cut to this song?"

Oh the horror.



Enjoy the remnant pangs of adolescent torture, and the realization that they're finally, almost, faded into the sunset,

Bp

Random undersea awesomeness

Here is a video of part of David Gallo's presentation on great stuff that's been filmed under the sea. From luminescent deep sea creatures (good footage using new techniques) to the camouflage and color presentations of Cephapods. A quick, fun little video. When I showed this to T. -- he loved the standing ovation at the end the best, it cracked him up to no end.

Look, they're clapping for cuttlefish! Look at them -- 'Yeah, yeah -- go cuttlefish, change change!'

Enjoy nature outdoing us on many fronts, even artistic,

Bp

[via my Mom]

Anthrax suicide, great conspiracy fodder

So the two guys who were fingered for having something to do with the post-9/11 anthrax attacks are in two very different states: one just won 5+ Million in court, the other is dead. In the words of T. "that sounds like the Godfather -- they make you an offer and if you refuse they kill you. It's better to just take the money."

It was well known that the strains of weaponized Anthrax used in the attacks were U.S. not long after the events took place, and yet the government tried to pin it on Iraq to help the buildup to war.

Question: don't people who get hired to ultra-sensitive positions in the government, like those say who will be working with deadly biological weapons materials, get psychologically screened? And yet a "disturbed, isolated loner" had access to these materials.

Great conspiracy fodder I tell you.

Here is a MGx blog post that has Olbermann video talking about this story.

Enjoy your night-time musings on this subject,

Bp

Quote from The Godfather

Watched The Godfather tonight, one of T.'s favorite movies. Heard a quote that is now my favorite from that whole movie.

From one Muscle to another, leaving a crime scene:

"Leave the gun, take the Cannoli."

How rad is that,

Bp

Chili commentary

Me: (after tasting The Wife's chili) "I don't know, it doesn't taste like it needs much of anything."

The Wife: "Cornbread."

T.: "Hate."

[laughter]

The Wife: "Ok, he's right it does need Hate more than it needs cornbread."

T. and I Kickin' it old-school...

Real old school, like -- in the 3rd Grade Old School.

T. is far left, second row from the bottom -- I'm far right on the same row. Stripes, apparently, were in that year.

Sociological note: All the kids who ended up being gay (were later revealed to be gay, how the hell do you say this right... anyway, there are 5 in this photo) can be connected one to another in a continuous line. Meaning, are standing together.

[bigger version available via click]

Enjoy your personal prehistory,

Bp

Waking up to Pavarotti

This morning, I slept in. Like, I really slept in. It was amazing -- but that's for another post.

When I came downstairs, T. (who often has Friday's off) was watching The Three Tenors -- big, bombastic operatic virtuosity. This was a performance where Domingo, Carreras And Pavarotti all performed in one night. They did multiple pieces, and it was all about perfection, testosterone, and showmanship.

T. has taken up Opera and Baroque Music study and appreciation lately. He still loves political underground hip hop and R & B divas, but the European traditions are where he spends most of his time. I think his European blood is finally insisting itself upon him.

So, I stood around in my robe and we kibitzed at the screen as the tenors did their thing. It's all so over the top, we just don't have anything in America that is analogous. Pavaroti with his little white hankie, praying before he sings, standing so magnanimous yet proud as he takes in the adoration of the crowd. Oh the drama, I tell you.

Tait would just suddenly start cracking up as one of the guys busted a sustained note and collapsed down into a bow for the crowd, "I love it, it's just sooo over the top I love it!"

I wish I could re-create the kibitzing and peanut-gallery commentary, but it's that in the moment kind of humor that's hard to relate after the fact. We'd make comments like "see, here he's giving the audience a rest. He's riding them like a horse, you got to give a horse some time at the water trough or you are going to wear them out." Or, when they raised their hands to receive the adulation of the crowd after a performance, we'd say "it really is this big, yes -- it's not just the voice ladies, it's the penis, it is THIS BIG, it's true."

It went on and on.

Anyway, here is a taste of the show (we got it on Netflix). I'm no opera fan, but in just a few minutes I could tell Pavaroti was the master, the absolute pole star of this art form. It's not my style music but I know good when I see it. Plus, watching anything that occasionally throws T. into uncontrollable fits of laughter and rolling around is worth my time.



Enjoy virtuosity, wherever you happen to find it,

Bp

Falling

There's been some falling going on. Hearing about healthy people in their mid 30's falling doesn't have the same affect as hearing "grandma fell" -- but it's amazing how badly they can go even when you are young and healthy.

The Wife lost her footing on some ice-slicked stairs last night, hurting her wrist and hip. We're all glad she didn't hit her Coccyx, which has a tendency to break under these circumstances. She's a bit gimpy but the Arnica homeopathics are working quite well already. She of course fell on the same side as an old injury, as we all know old (and new) injuries are magnetic, and attract further damage.

The old injury was from a 27' fall she took in college while up in a scissor lift hanging theater lights. She fell onto rows of theater chairs "in the only way possible not to end up with at least multiple broken bones or more likely paralyzed" to paraphrase the doctors. Nothing was broken but it took years of physical therapy to get her body to settle back into a workable state, she was a solid bruise from neck to ankles.

This experience has erased in her the desire to ride roller coasters and other carnival rides that involve heights.

This last year T. took a strange and expensive fall as well. He was in the Pearl, unloading some delicate cargo out of the back of his car. The only spot he could find was right at a street tree, so the door and angle and tree created a bizarre spot for him to unload his stuff. He turned in a strange way, his foot went out, and he went down, shattering his cargo all over the place and dislocating his kneecap. Boom, just like that, immobilized. When I arrived we tried to splint it up so we could lift him to get him into our car, and the pain was so intense he went gray and shocky looking. We were forced to call an ambulance. It took two doses of some zippy new intravenous pain medication (one of the paramedics leaned over and said into T.'s ear in a strangely gleeful way "this stuff is brand new, let us know what you think"), a space-age inflatable splint, and 4 paramedics to get him up into the gurney.

The dislocation ended up being something the doctor could "reduce" right in the E.R.. We had T. home and getting home-visit from acupuncturist Jon Schell within a couple hours. With intensive acupuncture, he made his flight to India not 10 days later, and had no problems with his knee the whole trip. It was amazing how fast the acupuncture worked to stitch him back up.

And now to go wrestle with banks and insurance agencies to arrange for a replacement car.

Enjoy your working and pain free limbs,

Bp

T. and Pootie enjoying the first snow

We had our first snow this morning, and here is a picture of T. and Pootie on the front porch enjoying the weather. You can see a bit of "winter interest" in the front bed, with the basalt and nice spray of somesuch grass... but overall winter is not the hottest time for our front beds. We're working on it, with the gentle but persistent prodding from a good friend of ours who knows about these things.

I'm off to study.

Enjoy your lazy Saturday morning,

Bp

[ps: Blogger seems to be having some problems with photos right now, so if you click on the picture today to get a bigger version, it will download instead of just display. Maybe it will make a good postcard or something, enjoy. Hope they fix it soon.]

A night at home, domestic bliss, twinge of regret

Had a great night last night, just being home. T. and The Wife and I sat around in the living room and talked garden plans, gate plans, espaliered-fruit-tree plans, cutting up concrete in the driveway plans, sharing excitement about the soon-to-be-coming grain mill (and subsequent fabulous breads), and hunching together around the computer messing around with our own and familys' names (of all things).

The name thing was a discovery out of the comments section of Shocho's blog, tons of entertainment just finding obscure names and seeing when they were popular and when they weren't. "Buddy" just isn't popular anymore, but it was in the 30's, for instance.

This house and little chunk of land provides what seems to be a lifetime's worth of projects. Getting as much food out of the land as possible, reducing our footprint as much as possible, making things pretty (we all concede to a vain side when it comes to the front of the house especially -- why we limit vegetable growing out there and stick to mostly flowers and now fruit trees). It is all good work, and begs to be pursued full-time. I admit to some regret around how much time I've spent not doing these things with T. and The Wife in pursuit of my degree.

School has started and it is amazing how little time I spend at home. Outside of actually being unconscious, I can't spend but 2 hours a day at home, morning and night, on most days. It's pretty crazy. The rainy grey season has finally fully arrived (instead of just teasing like it did much of the summer) and I guess it makes me a bit contemplative. I work not to live in a way that makes me hope for the future -- but I can honestly say I look forward to having more time to just tinker and fix and fuss over our cool little house.

Enjoy your domesticity,

Bp

Best preparedness website Ever, Troubled Times

So T. sends me an email with this website he wants me to check out. He said it was goofy, "graphically driven," but basically had tons and tons of links many of which were relevant and interesting, about back-to-the-land stuff, and self sufficiency and disaster preparedness. So I check it out, and it definitely has a funky kind of Esperanto-esque, 1970's, lets all hold hands in the world kind of feel to it. And, as promised some interesting links.

Then I dig deeper, and find out it's penned by a group associated with the Zeta Times. In the FAQ I found this:

The Zetas are a group of Service-to-Other Beings who are assisting this planet and it’s people in the transformation from 3rd to 4th density. This Transformation is happening now, and will be completed sometime after the passage of the 12th Planet, and the resulting Pole Shift that this passage will cause.

They are assisting this planet in preparing ourselves for:

Troubled Times is a group of volunteers helping each other prepare for the passage of the 12th Planet in 2003, and the resulting Pole Shift of the Earth.

In 2003, mind you.

That is so awesome we giggled over it for a long time. We both love shit like this, stuff that's so far off the map you can hardly believe what you are reading.

And, in the end, it still is a good site for links about how to make your own sausage, alternative power, and the need for community.

Enjoy your E.T. loving friends,

Bp

Musical Discovery: So Called - You Are Never Alone

Doc Ock somehow found this video on youtube, originally attracted to it because of the visuals. But as we listened, the whole family (that's study and home family) has decided we really like the music too. Like simple downbeat fusion hip hop or something. T. says it sounds like a hip hop version of a spiritual.

Anyway, it's groovy and I thought some of ya'll would appreciate it.

Enjoy your new musical discoveries,

Bp

Luddite wedding photos: Motley crew, showing off a ribbon shirt

Couple of pictures from The Luddite's wedding that don't involve a latrine. So the first picture is, from the left: The Luddite, Shady Kate (of the Canukistani Crew), The Wife, T., Tony, Bp, Jmichaell.

Second picture: The Wife and I posing as prompted by the photographer to "be romantic." Just can't take a statement like that seriously. I chose this picture specifically because it shows off the beautiful work The Wife did on the ribbon shirt I'm wearing. The shirt is sewn from scratch, and I believe is the first one she ever did. Not a simple design. If you didn't follow the link, the short explanation of a ribbon shirt is Native American Formalwear -- normally a clean pair of jeans, cowboy boots and a ribbon shirt.

Enjoy your formal occasions,

Bp

Normal day on the range, T.'s self improvement programme, and the incredible Oarfish

Normal day on the farm -- a long day at school, Qi Gong class at night, go to a friends' business to literally sniff at a hot smell and postulate what might be causing it (it's almost never electrical, but I get the call anyway), and come home to hear T.'s stories of First Aid class.

Did you know if you puncture or cut one of the "big" arteries (Carotid, Femoral) you have approximately 2 1/2 minutes before you are in steep steep trouble, maybe 5 minutes after that before you are expired? All those scenes from action movies with studs running around with arterial bleeding pumping out of wounds didn't ever look real... but will look even less real now.

T. has taken to "improving himself" lately. Not that he isn't always doing that, and hasn't been doing that ever since he reached adulthood, to my knowledge. I can't go into details because he's Mr. Private, but he is not exactly a slacker in the self improvement department. He's more on the super hero side of things, actually.

He's decided not only to become versed in classical music and opera (taking an audio lecture series and everything), but to become disaster-prepared. He read a disaster preparedness book, which has lead to good conversations and plans. It is a total trip to think about, actually think about, if things get seriously effed up. What you do, what you don't do, what you need in the house, who you let in who you don't. It feels very adult and responsible and sane to be thinking over this stuff -- some of the answers are quite a surprise.

There are culinary benefits to thinking about disaster preparedness. For instance, there may be a hand-crank grain mill in the works. Anything that helps with food and isn't electric needs to be considered. I'm excited about this particular item because of the prospect of fantastic home-baked, freshly-milled breads.

T. has also taken a First Aid class. Despite being woozey through most of the class, he learned a ton and now we plan to get this same instructor to teach us and our friends in a Cpr/First Aid workshop. It's cheap, and the guy loves teaching voluntary classes (as opposed to company-mandated classes). We are going to get a hold of 20 - 40 of our closest friends and run a full class (or classes, depending) for CPR and First Aid certification. I did it when I was in The Union, because it is required for Electricians -- but it's been a few years now so a refresher is in order.

Oh and I almost forgot to mention, the picture at the top there is an Oarfish. It is possibly the longest of all fishes, and to my eyes, a real looker. No, it doesn't have anything to do with anything -- I just thought it was pretty. There is an older picture at the same website I got that one which shows a much much bigger specimen.
[clicking a few google ads when you go to the fish site could keep this blog in good karma, since I just grabbed the photo gratuitously -- it was shiny, I couldn't help myself]

Enjoy your strange juxtapositions,

Bp

Eastern Promises Movie Trailer

T. Went to go see this last night, and really enjoyed it. It takes a real movie to catch T.'s attention. Of course, naked burly men help too, which this movie has. His recommendation weighs heavily in this house, we're looking forward to it.

Enjoy cinematic knife fights,

Bp

I totally freaking called it -- a quick morning gloat

So the family uses Netflix to watch TeeVee. We only watch second-run series on DVD -- that way we can get suggestions from friends, and watch em whenever we want. Upon the suggestion of multiple friends and most recently Uncle Terry, we gave Carnivale a shot last night.

I've found that I can't watch normal network TeeVee shows anymore. The timing and laugh tracks and assumptions made about the audience just don't work for me. It's been too long since I watched broadcast television regularly (almost 20 years) -- I've lost the chip. But HBO series are another matter entirely. They are just stretched out movies or something. Much higher quality. Six Feet Under was the first that showed us what TeeVee could be nowadays. The first season was a huge hit in this house.

But I digress, back to the gloating. We were watching Carnivale last night, and a pretty older lady (HBO is great for casting beautiful older actresses as well) was haunting my memory banks. Finally I realized who it was and blurted out, "she's that lady from The Swamp Thing!" T. and The Wife were incredulous, they made some comment about me being such a freak and laughed.

Turns out I am a freak, because I was RIGHT. It's Adrienne Barbeau, a heart-throb of mine early in my life. Probably very early actually, because there was a family friend who looked just like her.

Another quick digression: A popular story with the parents is that when the Adrienne Barbeau look-alike was visiting us and I was still a toddler, I unceremoniously grabbed her boobies -- one in each hand. Her response was "Ohhh, how cute, he likes older women." At which point she promised to return for my 16th birthday. Even though she hadn't been around for many moons at that point, she did show up for my 16th birthday -- I was thrilled and mortified simultaneously.

Enjoy your media savvy and childhood crushes,

Bp

Morning muse -- blog audience

[Using "muse" as a verb here, not a reference to my blazingly talented photographer friend in Victoria Canada]

Mother of The Wife emailed yesterday that she's just loving the blog and would be commenting often if she could figure out how to keep her computer from getting intestinal problems every time she clicked the "comments" link (It's probably a pop-up blocker Mum). My own mother wrote this morning to say that she's sending a link to some friends in So Cal because we share similar interests -- lower environmental footprint, closer to the land, still living urban, etc. I know that there is a 12-year-old eldest-sister of 6 out there who reads this as well, which really worried me at first since I consider this barely a pg-13 publication. I can get a bit paralyzed thinking about who might stumble across these thoughts.

I promise not to get actually paralyzed, or get too vanilla, or lose my humor just because I'm overthinking who may be reading this. I'm positive the father of that 12-year-old knows how to use site blockers should he decide it necessary, and that if I fart onscreen in front of my mother in law she'll just leave the room and come back later. I have no idea who might find the RBT's interesting, or the confessions of an Old Geezer on Campus, even. But thinking about these things isn't my job really, and I just need to remind myself of that sometimes.

So far this morning I've resisted the inevitable batch of Donut Queen donuts that T. hunts and gathers every Saturday morning, drank some hot water to warm my stomach up before Qi Gong practice, and will now proceed to the basement to "kick my own ass." This is what my Qi Gong practice is lovingly referred to by The Wife and T. now, since they know one portion of it involves striking certain acupuncture points. I'll get to that and report back later -- possibly about The Luddites' genius rural business, or some random whiff of science news that comes my way.

Ps: I've also received some kind emails from tea companies asking if I'd like to get some samples and review their products here. I appreciate the kind words, but I have some serious product loyalty when it comes to tea and will be continuing to give a gratuitous monopoly to The Jasmine Pearl Tea Merchants and Black Dragon Teas (writeup to come when the new teas arrive) in this regard, as I love these folks and their teas rock.


Enjoy your internet publications,

Bp