Story Time

This all happened 35-40 years ago, and most of it is second or third hand, and kids don't always understand what's going on in the adult world. So I don't claim that what I remember is exactly what happened. However, my perceptions of it made a big difference in how I see the world and the people in it, and that's what really matters.

I was probably four years old (which would make it 1972 or so) when my parents invited a man to come over for dinner at our home in Pittsburgh. I remember that he was big (a lot bigger than my dad, who was roughly average-size) and black and rather intimidating to a little kid. Based But he was friendly and after a bit I got used to him, and decided he was okay after all. Pretty typical kid reaction to a stranger in the house. I don't think I ever saw him again.

About a year later, we had moved to Connecticut, bought a house in the suburbs and survived the great ice storm of '73. One day my mom said dad was going to be out of town for a few days, which wasn't that unusual an occurrence, since he traveled a lot on business. She asked if I remembered that man who had come over for dinner, and I did. Well, apparently he was having some trouble with something, and dad was helping him out. Okay.

I don't remember when it came up exactly, or why, but at some point mom filled me in on the story. I was older, but still a kid. Maybe about ten or so. Apparently, dad had spent some time going to prisons and counseling inmates as part of a church outreach program. Now, dad's religious beliefs have careened from atheist to born-again christian and back again over the course of his adult life, with stops along the way for Lutheranism, Catholicism, Judaism, and Anglicanism. Probably some other stuff in there too. I'm not sure where exactly he was in this colorful journey when he was visiting prisons, but I think in the early 70s it would have been more about social justice and less about saving eternal souls. Anyway, that's where he met this man, and he had just gotten out when my parents had him over for dinner. The trouble he was having a couple years later was about as serious as it gets - he'd been charged with murder. My dad had taken time off from work, traveled to another state, and testified as a character witness. Apparently having Dr. T. A. Cruse, PhD, a white upper-middle class engineer speaking on behalf of a poor ex-con black man impressed the hell out of the jury, and he was found not guilty.

Demographically, I'm about as privileged as it gets in this country. White, male, educated, intelligent, heterosexual, two parents who loved me and each other, the list goes on and on. But I learned a valuable lesson, watching my dad as I grew up. Having been dealt all the goods cards doesn't make you better than other people, it just means you were luckier. And sometimes, to be a man means doing right by other people - even if you have to step out of your comfort zone and stick your neck out a bit. I've been thinking about this story a lot this past week, with the BlizzCon kerfluffle. In addition to raising my voice on my blog I took a few steps I don't usually take to try to influence the president of a multi-billion dollar company. I have no idea if anything I did had the slightest impact on how it all ultimately played out, but it never occurred to me not to try. I was not targeted by that hateful video in any way, and I could easily have done nothing. But I know I did right by my fellow gamers, and I sleep pretty good at night knowing I did. Would I still have done it, had I not seen dad's examples - this story and a number of other times, big and small that dad did the right thing. I don't know. Quite possibly not. So thank you dad, for showing me how to be a grown-up, even when it's not convenient.

Too Old To Rock& Roll, Too Young To Die

Julie (singing): I.... want to rock and roll all night!
Me (quasi-singing): And part of every day!
Julie: Um, you know, the line is supposed to be "and party every day"
Me: Yeah, well, I'm too old to do it full-time anymore, if I want to rock and roll all night. So I'm just going part-time.
Julie: Michael, you were born too old to party every day.

What Are You Thinking About?

Next time someone asks me that, I'm just going to point them to this comic. Because, yeah, that's pretty much what's going on in my brain at any given moment...

Does You Need Me To Kill You Dead?

Does you need me to kill you dead?
Why would I need that?
I dunno. I just asking.
Well, that was thoughtful of you.
Yah, I'm a nice person.

Does you need me to kill you dead?
No! Of course not!
Yes you do. Why you lie to me?

Does you need me to kill you dead?
I don't think so. Why would I?
Why wouldn't you?
Well, if you did, I wouldn't be happy.
How would you know? You'd be dead.
Okay, I guess that's hard to argue with.

Does you need me to kill you dead?
If you did, who would give you rubs?
Well, yes, that would be a problem. But it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for the greater good.
That's very noble of you.
Yah, I know. It's my nature.

(Just a few conversations we've had over the past few days. I'm guessing not too many people have conversations that would sound this terrible if taken out of context.)

Time For A Darth Vader Pic

'Cause, well, it's been a while. I have no other explanation.

Stolen from here.

I Don't Think My Stepson Gets Us

There are the sounds of shrieking from our bedroom. Then water running. A few minutes later I emerge into the living room.

Me (faux indignant): Your mom just poured Dr Pepper on my head!

Stepson: Why?

Me: For her own amusement!

Ss: Is she okay?

Me: Of course not! She's freaking nuts!

At which point he retreats back into the stable and rational world of Spongebob Squarepants. Poor kid. It must be hard being a teenager and knowing your the only sane person in your family.

And She's....

...painting my toenails purple again. Just on the left foot. Not sure why she enjoys doing it, but she does, so I just roll with it. She can't really say. Perhaps it's reassuring to her, a reminder that yes, I do trust her, that I don't mind minor strange incursions into my personal space. I figure tolerating this affront to my manly dignity is just karma, catching up with me for all the times I wouldn't let my six-year-old kid sister dress me up like an oversized Barbie doll.

When I was with Brett, we never did anything together that didn't make sense. And as time went by, we just did less and less together, until there was nothing left. I realize now, doing little things that bring us closer together, that keep us from drifting apart, are so very very important. They keep the love strong and rejuvenated. Who cares if they make sense?

Of course, for the next week or so I'm going to glance down towards my feet and mentally scream "holy crap what happened to my toes???!?" at least once a day. I can live with that.

This Is For Julie

Is a dude.

We Have Our Own Language

So, when we have a conversation like:
Julie (using her aristocratic voice): "Does .... does you need me to .... beat your heinie?"
Me: "What, with a giant black dildo?"
Julie: "Yeah!!! You will like!"

What we actually mean is:
Julie: "I love you and I am so glad I get to spend the rest of my life with you."
Me: "I love you and I am so glad I get to spend the rest of my life with you, too."

Just don't ask me why we use that language. There is, in fact, no beating and no giant dildo. All I know is, we know what we mean.

Is It Too Late To Trade In My Dad For The Cool One?

I mean, I love you Dad and all, but holy crap! With this one I could have had Shadowcat and Lockheed with my lunch. Along with about a bazillion more brown bags of awesome...

Reality Has A Well-Documented Anti-Conservative Bias

"Now, therefore, I, Rick Perry, Governor of Texas, under the authority vested in me by the Constitution and Statutes of the State of Texas, do hereby proclaim the three-day period from Friday, April 22, 2011 to Sunday, April 24, 2011, as Days of Prayer for Rain in the State of Texas." Perhaps he was counting on the prayers to make up for the planned 20% cut in funding to the Texas Forest Service.

And how well did that work? Here's some recent footage from Bastrop State Park, not far from the state capital.

Either god is a mean bastard who really hates Texas and its governor and the 500 or so families who have lost their homes, or else Texas is a hot dry place to begin with that has suffered from the combined effects of the cyclical weather pattern La Nina and overall climate change.

The people who founded this country but barriers in place to separate government from religion, because they realized that governments suck at metaphysics and religions suck at managing a world controlled by predictable natural laws that can be studied and learned. It's too bad many of our modern leaders lack their wisdom.

You Gotta Be Kidding Me

Julie has to treat a lot of cancer patients as part of her job, because that's one of the things her hospital specializes in. Cancer patient in Austin area needs to be in ICU? They go to Seton Main. It sucks for her sometimes, having to deal with cancer patients when she is has cancer, but I think she's more or less accepted it and learned how to handle it, and probably sometimes is able to bring an extra degree of empathy. But tonight she tells me that she has a woman who was treated for Stage 2 breast cancer and thought she had beaten it, but now it's back and it's spread to her bones and liver. Which is almost always fatal. And there's about a one in five chance that the same thing will happen to Julie.

Fuck cancer. Fuck whatever insensitive fuckbrained asshole assigned that patient to Julie. Sometimes I hate her job almost as much as she does.

Is It The Weekend Yet?

I has a sleepy.

Looks Like A Fun Way To Waste Time

Solar System Builder

A Slight Miscommunication

"Why on earth would you want to jump over me? Just go around me. You are such a dork."

"Um, no, actually I just said 'I want to jump you'. No 'over'."

"Oh. Ohhhh. Well, in that case, by all means carry on."

What I Was Up To One Year Ago Today (Sort Of)

Actually, it was one year ago yesterday. But I was doing other stuff yesterday.

It was a wonderful day. The rain stayed out in the gulf, the store we ordered the food from fixed their mistake in time, we didn't lose the rings, and I was the happiest man in the world.

One year later, I still am.

Reason #732 Why My Wife Is Effing Awesome

Many thanks to xkcd.com for pointing this out. In Julie's case, they went with a sharpie pen instead of tattoos (somewhat different treatment regimen, I believe), but just as hardcore.

End Of An Era

So, the last space shuttle mission ended today. I've read and heard a number of people say that it is a sad thing. But, I don't see it that way. The space shuttles had a degree of coolness, but to be honest I'm glad they're done. In fact, I belong to the school of thought that manned space travel is a bad idea.

I shall explain.

One of the issues you have when you put a man into space is that you kind of need to bring him back. This means that in addition to the man, you need a vehicle. This vehicle needs a lot of fuel. This in turn means that you need a lot more fuel to get the man and his vehicle and its fuel into space in the first place. A Saturn V rocket was 363 feet tall and weighed seven million pounds, all necessary so that three men could go to the moon and back (and only two of them actually got to land - one had to stay in orbit). That's a lot. No other rocket comes close. I can't imagine how big a rocket you would need to send men to Mars and back.

Of course, going to Mars would mean a multi-stage mission, not a single shot. Probably an enhanced space station would be built to support a permanent moon base. The Mars mission would depart from there, probably with the crew in one rocket and supplies in other rockets. All just to get some men there who would take some pictures, collect some rocks, and then scamper for home.

Meanwhile, we are already exploring Mars. Mariner, Viking, Global Surveyor, Phoenix, Pathfinder, Odyssey, Spirit and Opportunity, Reconnaissance Orbiter, ... The list keeps growing, and each mission is more sophisticated than the last. There have been plenty of failed missions as well, but the price of failure is a hundred pounds of scrap metal smeared across a Martian plain. That's a lot cheaper than a half dozen human beings smeared across the same plain. A robotic explorer doesn't need food or water or exercise equipment or a toilet, and it doesn't need fuel to bring it back to earth. A human explorer may be able to do more than a single robot, but every year the gap is narrowing. How many robotic explorers could we send to Mars for the cost of a manned mission? Hundreds? Thousands? Not exciting, not glamorous, but we'd learn far more about another planet.

The space shuttle is basically a dump truck. Big payload, powerful but short-range rockets. To keep the cost down, it was designed withe the rockets, the fuel tanks, the payload, and the crew all side-by-side, rather than stacked like a conventional rocket. This meant that when something went wrong, as it did with Challenger in '86 and Columbia in '03, the crews were vulnerable, and they died. In both cases, cost- and PR-conscious NASA administrators overuled attempts to actually solve the problems, and the crews died. NASA has become as clumsy and badly-configured as the shuttles themselves.

Seeing people be launched into space, and safely return, is a stirring sight. But is it worth it, when there are cheaper, better ways that don't put brave people at risk? I don't think so.

Go Away Monday

No want.

Because Pugs Are Awesome...

...if a tad on the short side