<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:34:08.899-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Owosso-Called Life Lost in the South</title><subtitle type='html'>Musings on the theatre, work, friends, news, and others deserving of derision.  There may even be something worth reading.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>48</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-6048444550664737647</id><published>2008-11-10T20:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T20:37:09.161-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Overheard today, guess the context</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote style="color: red;"&gt;Wow, that's going to require some digging.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote style="color: red;"&gt;We really should put in a service call on this.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote style="color: red;"&gt;You are going to hate me later tonight.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote style="color: red;"&gt;Let me give you one more so you can make it through the night.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote style="color: red;"&gt;Just bite on this for 10 minutes.&amp;nbsp; It'll seem like an eternity, but we'll set a timer.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote style="color: red;"&gt;Which one do you want to use?&amp;nbsp; Yeah, both came in the kit.&amp;nbsp; Which one do you usually use?&amp;nbsp; Oh, I've never used these either.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote style="color: red;"&gt;Hey, it worked like it was supposed to.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, folks, I had a cavity filled.&amp;nbsp; It's like a cross between Vincent Price and Jim Belushi using sharp instruments in my mouth.&amp;nbsp; And I really hope my cheeks are elastic so they can return to their original shapes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two years without insurance, five since a visit, four months since the majority of that filling fell out.&amp;nbsp; Going in, the doctor didn't know if it was going to be a filling or a root canal with crown.&amp;nbsp; Obviously I was praying for the one that wouldn't require me selling organs on the black market.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It &lt;i&gt;was&lt;/i&gt; bad, though.&amp;nbsp; It started with doctor-strength Anbesol and two shots of novocaine "because you'll need it."&amp;nbsp; Not a good sign.&amp;nbsp; Then the excavation began.&amp;nbsp; Apparently the hemmoraging was so bad they just had me bite on gauze for 10 minutes to try to slow it down so they could finish the procedure.&amp;nbsp; Then at the end the doctor gave me another shot, just to be kind.&amp;nbsp; Yikes.&amp;nbsp; Wondering if I should take tomorrow off school preemptively, especially if I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-6048444550664737647?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6048444550664737647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/overheard-today-guess-context.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/6048444550664737647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/6048444550664737647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/overheard-today-guess-context.html' title='Overheard today, guess the context'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-8363947150710750020</id><published>2008-11-05T00:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T00:13:49.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pardon me</title><content type='html'>while I get goose bumps and blub a bit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-8363947150710750020?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8363947150710750020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/pardon-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/8363947150710750020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/8363947150710750020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/pardon-me.html' title='Pardon me'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-2648712292124509795</id><published>2008-11-04T11:21:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T11:31:10.933-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Voter 197</title><content type='html'>At least on my side (L-Z) I was voter #197 this morning.&amp;nbsp; From the time I stepped in line until I walked out it took me 33 minutes to work my way through the line and vote.&amp;nbsp; There were no irregularities, the touchscreen machine worked perfectly, there was no campaigning or intimidation, two machines were broken, but the call had been made for repairs.&amp;nbsp; Old, young, black, white, Hispanic, lots of parents brought their kids, which I think is absolutely grand.&amp;nbsp; All in all, a great experience for me to cast a split ballot.&amp;nbsp; I hope everyone gets their vote out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me about your voting experience in the comments.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-2648712292124509795?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2648712292124509795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/voter-197.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/2648712292124509795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/2648712292124509795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/voter-197.html' title='Voter 197'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-8909104024185454131</id><published>2008-10-19T23:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T23:28:30.541-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Breaking news</title><content type='html'>I smelled fall today.&amp;nbsp; You know that smell: damp leaves and a bit of earth.&amp;nbsp; I wasn't sure that even happened down here.&amp;nbsp; It made me a bit nostalgic and both sad and happy.&amp;nbsp; Then, of course, my sinuses filled right up and I had to reach for a tissue...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-8909104024185454131?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8909104024185454131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/breaking-news.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/8909104024185454131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/8909104024185454131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/breaking-news.html' title='Breaking news'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-7952724130175397553</id><published>2008-10-18T14:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T14:00:01.845-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Report on the Trip Home</title><content type='html'>After the time in the airport, my flights were completely uneventful.&amp;nbsp; Flew to Chicago, had a gate change, then another, but they were literally next door so I didn't even have to change seats, then into Detroit where myB picked me up in style (his style, which is fabulous of course), and we listened to the cast recording of &lt;i&gt;[Title of Show]&lt;/i&gt; on the way back to Lansing.&amp;nbsp; It's a fabulous show and you should all buy it and giggle at the monkeys and vampires.&amp;nbsp; Helen, are you listening?&amp;nbsp; This is what to buy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday morning we went to Thieo's for breakfast (southern scramble = extreme yumminess with cheese on top).&amp;nbsp; Then myB and I went to my parents' house where we drank and frightened myB with an experience of watching Michigan football with the Perkini.&amp;nbsp; For the record, \PER-kin-eye\ is the correct pronunciation of the plural of my family name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then to Eddie O'Flynn's for a pre-show dinner with everyone.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SPnwCpa_wfI/AAAAAAAAAJk/2jcdTCbkNLg/s1600-h/015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SPnwCpa_wfI/AAAAAAAAAJk/L_5ZWONga7w/s320-R/015.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SPnwOwW8TRI/AAAAAAAAAJs/2ns8vWigrMg/s1600-h/014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SPnwOwW8TRI/AAAAAAAAAJs/Oa1hJaIl0SI/s320-R/014.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SPnweyUbJLI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/WSuW8vA5ZQE/s1600-h/016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SPnweyUbJLI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/Rw3JMhoG-E4/s320-R/016.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SPnwrb2L3VI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/lTyHVskf5hc/s1600-h/017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SPnwrb2L3VI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/jfxeII-fi2k/s320-R/017.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;After dinner there was a show of some sort and a get-together at Buck and Molli's.&amp;nbsp; Got back to Lansing around 2.&amp;nbsp; Sunday consisted of getting up a few hours earlier than I wanted and driving down to the airport.&amp;nbsp; Can I say how great myB was to pick me up and drop me off in Detroit?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;The flight down was a little more eventful.&amp;nbsp; The flight was oversold, and they were looking for people to take a later flight that day for a free round-trip ticket.&amp;nbsp; I volunteered and got the voucher!&amp;nbsp; So I have have a free round-trip flight back to Michigan (or wherever in the continental US) coming up.&amp;nbsp; I think I'll use it for graduation this spring.&amp;nbsp; Unfortunately, this meant that my flight left at 9:15 instead of 2:50.&amp;nbsp; It's a good think I brought schoolwork!&amp;nbsp; Other than the change in terminals and not getting home until after midnight, there was no further excitement.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I got cheap tickets, but for the fun I had and all the friends I saw, I would gladly have paid more.&amp;nbsp; It was so worth it and I am really looking forward to seeing everyone again at Christmastime.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-7952724130175397553?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7952724130175397553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/report-on-trip-home.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/7952724130175397553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/7952724130175397553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/report-on-trip-home.html' title='Report on the Trip Home'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SPnwCpa_wfI/AAAAAAAAAJk/L_5ZWONga7w/s72-Rc/015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-1908976108487200030</id><published>2008-10-18T08:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T09:04:17.649-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome back to me</title><content type='html'>So I haven't posted since I was in the airport in Charlotte waiting to fly back to Michigan.&amp;nbsp; So much has happened!&amp;nbsp; The weekend was all sorts of fun, seeing all my wives, spending time with my boyfriend and parents all at the same time (I actually think they like him better than they like me, but that's also true of my wives, so take that for whatever it's worth), seeing a great show in Owosso, another in Greenville, and working a show here in Greenville.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the primary reason I haven't updated the blog.&amp;nbsp; After I get home from school, I generally have had time to make a sandwich and grab a soda on the way out the door to rehearsal and then not getting home until 10:30, giving me negative time to work on schoolwork.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A preview of posts upcoming:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Reviews of Owosso Community Players' &lt;i&gt;The Taming of the Shrew&lt;/i&gt;, the national tour of &lt;i&gt;A Chorus Line&lt;/i&gt; at the Peace Center, and Centre Stage's &lt;i&gt;Bus Stop&lt;/i&gt;, for which I'm doing lights and sound (well, running the lights and sound board, I didn't design anything).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A post on Fall for Greenville, a culinary festival that takes over the downtown of Greenville for an entire weekend, shutting down Main Street and a couple blocks either side.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A full report on my trip to Michigan.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Some local restaurant and business reviews.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Right now I'm at a car place getting my oil changed and having my brakes and steering checked.&amp;nbsp; They just haven't felt right since towing my car 800 miles on the back of a U-Haul, and I want to make sure I'm safe for an upcoming trip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-1908976108487200030?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1908976108487200030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/welcome-back-to-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/1908976108487200030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/1908976108487200030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/welcome-back-to-me.html' title='Welcome back to me'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-3341472824162549131</id><published>2008-10-03T17:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T17:37:02.620-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In Charlotte-Douglas Airport</title><content type='html'>Just wasting time because they have free Internet and I have about an hour until my flight boards.&amp;nbsp; I realized that while I had brought my camera, I forgot the cable to connect it to the computer, so any pictures will have to wait until early next week.&amp;nbsp; Charlotte really is a great airport: the security is fast and friendly, the place is clean and bright, and everyone is willing to help.&amp;nbsp; Oh, and they have free Internet.&amp;nbsp; I'll gladly fly out of here every time.&amp;nbsp; Looking forward to seeing y'all at Eddie O's in 22 hours or so!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-3341472824162549131?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3341472824162549131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/in-charlotte-douglas-airport.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/3341472824162549131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/3341472824162549131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/in-charlotte-douglas-airport.html' title='In Charlotte-Douglas Airport'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-3015257440213139949</id><published>2008-10-03T10:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T10:00:00.552-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Overheard at school</title><content type='html'>After the announcements said that the cross country team was going to Appalachian State University for a meet:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;I didn't know Appalachian became a state.&amp;nbsp; When did this happen?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;To which another student replied:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;Oh, I heard it on the news like last summer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;And, when discussing diatomic molecules (molecules made up of two atoms, di-atomic):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;I wonder why we never hear of a monabolic plan.&amp;nbsp; Does that mean a diabolic plan is like plan B?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Oh how I want a dictionary and encyclopedia set in the room!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-3015257440213139949?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3015257440213139949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/overheard-at-school.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/3015257440213139949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/3015257440213139949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/overheard-at-school.html' title='Overheard at school'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-7101683138020027095</id><published>2008-10-02T14:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T14:00:00.568-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A crazy white boy</title><content type='html'>As I was doing laundry last night (in preparation for a certain trip), I was going back and forth to the laundry room in my shorts, tank top, and flip-flops.&amp;nbsp; The sky was clear, there was no wind, and the temperatures were around 20°C (just shy of 70°F).&amp;nbsp; Some guy was out on the front stoop of his building on the phone and I could hear him talking about me.&amp;nbsp; (Aside: why is it that people on cell phones think people around them can't hear them?)&amp;nbsp; It should be noted that he is wearing heavy sweat pants, boots, a thick hoodie sweatshirt with the hood up, and a stocking cap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;Man, this white boy is crazy.&amp;nbsp; He running around barely dressed and it freezing out.&amp;nbsp; Yeah, like 65 or something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went to put the laundry in the dryer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;He still not dressed.&amp;nbsp; Crazy white boy think he at the beach or something.&amp;nbsp; Man!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-7101683138020027095?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7101683138020027095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/crazy-white-boy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/7101683138020027095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/7101683138020027095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/crazy-white-boy.html' title='A crazy white boy'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-875241369810105017</id><published>2008-10-02T05:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T05:14:13.679-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What I saw in the drive-through ahead of me</title><content type='html'>[Not for reading while eating.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A small white pickup, an import.&amp;nbsp; A man in his early 60s with a Jack Russell terrier on his lap.&amp;nbsp; The dog trying to leap out of the window to attack the server.&amp;nbsp; The man needing to hold the dog back with at least one hand at all times.&amp;nbsp; The door of the pickup opening.&amp;nbsp; The man brushing dog poo off his lap out of the cab of the truck.&amp;nbsp; The man reaching &lt;i&gt;with the same hand&lt;/i&gt; to give the server his money and take the sack of food and drink.&amp;nbsp; The man closing the door to his truck.&amp;nbsp; The man driving off, swerving slightly as the terrier tries to bury its head in the food bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got to the window, I saw all of the servers in the restaurant washing and drying their hands.&amp;nbsp; I thanked them profusely and tried to make sure I didn't drive through the doggie nuggets just under the drive-through window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FYI: This is the same drive-through as &lt;a href="http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/conversation-of-day.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-875241369810105017?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/875241369810105017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-i-saw-in-drive-through-ahead-of-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/875241369810105017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/875241369810105017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-i-saw-in-drive-through-ahead-of-me.html' title='What I saw in the drive-through ahead of me'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-9164544015264784633</id><published>2008-10-01T04:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T05:00:18.068-05:00</updated><title type='text'>66 Hours</title><content type='html'>and counting...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-9164544015264784633?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/9164544015264784633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/66-hours.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/9164544015264784633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/9164544015264784633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/66-hours.html' title='66 Hours'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-8293610546376917225</id><published>2008-09-27T22:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T22:53:25.252-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When good writing goes bad</title><content type='html'>First, I offer a sign that says more about the writer of the sign than the subject of the sign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3009/2893411889_26fc0dfc3f.jpg?v=0" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="132" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3009/2893411889_26fc0dfc3f.jpg?v=0" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Which must mean that McCain is quadroon fleece.&amp;nbsp; Yes, I used quadroon.&amp;nbsp; Look it up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Also, Furman University (mascot: Paladins) is just a few miles from my apartment, and our local paper tries valiantly to get the readers' attention for the online article.&amp;nbsp; Here's the result of a headline and lede that really could have used some editing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3259/2893411917_b493f43e26.jpg?v=0" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3259/2893411917_b493f43e26.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My favorite part?&amp;nbsp; The last four words.&amp;nbsp; I'm pretty sure the writer intended that as a cliffhanger to get people to click through.&amp;nbsp; Where exactly was the editor?&amp;nbsp; This totally fits my theory that copyeditors should all have dirty minds, just to prevent things like this.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.greenvilleonline.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080927/SPORTS0103/809270318/-1/rss"&gt;Here&lt;/a&gt;'s a link to the original article, for as long as it works.&amp;nbsp; Click through to find &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;nice, big targets&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;depth&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;position&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;staff&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;69&lt;/span&gt;, and &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;man coverage&lt;/span&gt;.&amp;nbsp; Seriuosly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-8293610546376917225?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8293610546376917225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/when-good-writing-goes-bad.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/8293610546376917225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/8293610546376917225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/when-good-writing-goes-bad.html' title='When good writing goes bad'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-1472205650981407071</id><published>2008-09-24T22:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T22:17:57.327-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Posted without comment</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3199/2886811686_1310c72bf4.jpg?v=0" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="315" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3199/2886811686_1310c72bf4.jpg?v=0" width="420" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-1472205650981407071?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1472205650981407071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/posted-without-comment.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/1472205650981407071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/1472205650981407071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/posted-without-comment.html' title='Posted without comment'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-5304978393047347836</id><published>2008-09-22T14:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T14:29:01.844-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A bit of academics</title><content type='html'>[In case you are one of the few people reading my blog who haven't read or seen &lt;i&gt;Wicked&lt;/i&gt;, or don't know the plot, let this serve as your warning that I will be spoiling some plot twists.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;After grading all those chemistry papers, I just had to do something using the other side of my brain.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was listening to the &lt;i&gt;Wicked&lt;/i&gt; soundtrack the other day, I noticed something.&amp;nbsp; (I've been noticing a lot of things like this since myB has been teaching me about narrative theory and literary criticism.)&amp;nbsp; Elphaba and the Wizard have a bit of somethin'-somethin' going on before they figure out the Oedipal shocker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule #1 in narrative theory and lit crit seems to be, "it's all about the sex, and if it isn't, it still is."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Lyrics from &lt;a href="http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/wicked/thewizardandi.htm"&gt;ST Lyrics&lt;/a&gt;, whom I use all the time to get accurate lyrics to all my soundtrack songs.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;MADAME MORRIBLE:&lt;br /&gt;(spoken)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Oh, Miss Elphaba&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(sung/spoken)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Many years I have waited&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; For a gift like yours to appear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; Why, I predict the Wizard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; Could make you his&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; Magic grand vizier!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; My dear, my dear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; I'll write at once to the Wizard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; Tell him of you in advance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; With a talent like yours, dear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; There is a defint-ish chance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; If you work as you should&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; You'll be making good:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Madame Morrible isn't just using Shiz to find powerful witches or talented magic users for the Wizard, she is pimping them out!&amp;nbsp; If the magic gift is a metaphor for sexuality, Morrible is suggesting that Elphaba could become the head of the harem, the primary sexual outlet for the Wizard.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; However, Elphaba is subject to the whims of the Wizard's fancy, just like any woman.&amp;nbsp; Her position is never guaranteed.&amp;nbsp; Look at all the conditionals: could, definit-&lt;i&gt;ish&lt;/i&gt;, chance, if.&amp;nbsp; While she may have an inborn advantage over any of the other women, she will have to constantly prove herself worthy of the sexual attentions, but even that may not be enough if the Wizard just changes his mind.&amp;nbsp; (Did you notice in the show how only the women have magic abilities, and the Wizard resorts to trickery to accomplish his magic?&amp;nbsp; Only the women have expressed sexuality; men are free to use or ignore it as they desire.&amp;nbsp; The Wizard is powerful because he has convinced Oz that he is sexual, the most sexual.&amp;nbsp; Paging Dr. Freud.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;ELPHABA:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Did that really just happen?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; Have I actually understood?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; This weird quirk I've tried&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; To suppress or hide&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; Is a talent that could&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; Help me meet the Wizard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; If I make good&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; So I'll make good;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Wicked&lt;/i&gt; is, among other things, a coming of age story. &amp;nbsp; Everyone goes through a period of uncertainty about their lives, their bodies, and their sexuality.&amp;nbsp; Elphaba is going through all of these doubts and Madame Morrible has offered her a way to define herself and make sense of the changes and weirdness she has experienced all her life and that are occurring more and more frequently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most teens, especially women, have to come to terms with their sexuality and choose whether to express it as a grown woman rather than repress it and remain a girl.&amp;nbsp; There are myriad examples in the literature and probably our own lives of how we first tried to express our sexual natures, how we may have wished that there were an older, more experienced person to guide us through the process, someone who accepts our sexuality as it is and is willing to mentor us without judgement, praising and celebrating our sexual natures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;When I meet the Wizard,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; Once I prove my worth,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; And then I meet the Wizard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; What I've waited for since,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Spoken: &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Since birth!&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;And with all his Wizard wisdom,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; By my looks, he won't be blinded.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; Do you think the Wizard is&lt;/span&gt; (Spoken: &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;dumb?&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Or, like Munchkins, so small-minded?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Spoken: &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;No!&lt;/span&gt;) &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;He'll say to me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; "I see who you truly are -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; A girl of whom I can rely!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; And that's how we'll begin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; The Wizard and I:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Here goes Elphaba, having made her decision to accept Morrible's offer, off fantasizing like the teen girl she's written as.&amp;nbsp; You can almost picture her doodling bubble-letters in her school notebook: E+W inside a heart.&amp;nbsp; Writing "Wizard" hundreds of times and dotting the "i" with hearts every time.&amp;nbsp; Her first love, her first crush, her first experience with the notion that somebody could actually want her for who she is, not to perform some babysitting task.&amp;nbsp; To this point her father had treated her as a sexless substitute for her dead mother, to be the one who cares for Nessarose and does the domestic duties.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like many kids find their first crush absolutely perfect and anyone who criticizes at all be damned, she preemptively defends the Wizard against what others might say, basking in the assumed praise for her loyalty and womanhood. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Once I'm with the Wizard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; My whole life will change&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; 'Cuz once you're with the Wizard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; No one thinks you're strange!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; No father is not proud of you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; No sister acts ashamed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; And all of Oz has to love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; When by the Wizard, you're acclaimed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; And this gift or this curse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; I have inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; Maybe at last, I'll know why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; When we are hand in hand -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; The Wizard and I!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The further she gets into her fantasy, the more powerful her sexuality becomes.&amp;nbsp; For the first time she has given herself permission to embrace her sexuality without shame, even if only in her fantasies.&amp;nbsp; She becomes the lover of not just the most powerful man in Oz, but of all Oz itself.&amp;nbsp; She becomes a mother figure, reaping love where there once was rejection.&amp;nbsp; Her father and sister are no longer of any consequence.&amp;nbsp; To put it biblically, she cleaved from her family and clung to her new sexual identity.&amp;nbsp; Any doubts she had or might still have are becoming distant memories, childish flaws that she grew out of into absolutely certainty.&amp;nbsp; Or, at least that is her fantasy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote style="color: red;"&gt;And one day, he'll say to me, "Elphaba,&lt;br /&gt;A girl who is so superior,&lt;br /&gt;Shouldn't a girl who's so good inside&lt;br /&gt;Have a matching exterior?&lt;br /&gt;And since folks here to an absurd degree&lt;br /&gt;Seem fixated on your verdigris.&lt;br /&gt;Would it be all right by you&lt;br /&gt;If I de-greenify you?"&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This has always struck me as a bit creepy (one might think the Wizard wasn't focused on her verdigris, but on something else that begins with a "v"), and thinking about this section got me thinking about the rest of the song.&amp;nbsp; Let's bring out the subtext: &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;And soon, if I do everything right, he'll say to me, "Elphaba,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;You are such a beautiful soul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;You are so mature, more than other girls your age,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;We have a deep spiritual connection.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;Let's take this to the next level.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;You know how those idiots think you aren't worth anything?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;Have sex with me so they'll know you are mine and worth caring about."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Green is a symbol in our culture of naïvete, of freshness and newness.&amp;nbsp; When the Wizard "de-greenifies" her, he is removing her innocence.&amp;nbsp; Remember, this is all still in her head, her fantasies.&amp;nbsp; The Wizard hasn't actually made such an offer, except through Madame Morrible, and that was really ambiguous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;And though of course,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;That's not important to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;"All right, why not?" I'll reply&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;Oh, what a pair we'll be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;The Wizard and I;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;Yes, what a pair we'll be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;The Wizard and...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;In the recording, you can hear the giggle in her voice.&amp;nbsp; She is still innocent, naïve, willing to go along with anything that will help her understand her sexuality and give meaning and importance to the chaos in her life.&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Then there's a stop in the middle of a phrase, a gasp, a new feeling that she has never experienced before.&amp;nbsp; Not to get too graphic, but it's as though she has just now first touched herself in a sexual way, derailing her previous thoughts and taking her to a magical/sexual place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;Unlimited&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;My future is unlimited&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;And I've just had a vision&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;Almost like a prophecy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;I know - it sounds truly crazy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;And true, the vision's hazy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;But I swear, someday there'll be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;A celebration throughout Oz&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;That's all to do with me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;How many of us thought we could clearly see the future in terms of our lives with our first crush?&amp;nbsp; Planning the wedding, naming the kids, knowing exactly what color the living room walls will be.&amp;nbsp; In the context of this show, seeing the future is a literal possibility.&amp;nbsp; But if we go back to magic as a gift of sexuality, every time her magic abilities manifest, we can think of it as sexual arousal.&amp;nbsp; The outbursts of spells are almost orgasmic: uncontrolled, shocking, cathartic, embarrassing, consuming, and confusing.&amp;nbsp; Nobody has explained to her what they are, why she is having them, and how much they will take over her life.&amp;nbsp; She just knows that they feel right, they feel good, and she wants them to continue.&amp;nbsp; And she sees the Wizard as the one who can give her more frequent, more controllable, and more powerful "outbursts".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;And I'll stand there with the Wizard,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;Feeling things I've never felt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;And though I'd never show it,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;I'll be so happy, I could melt!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;And so it will be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;For the rest of my life,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;And I'll want nothing else&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;Till I die.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;Held in such high esteem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;When people see me, they will scream&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;For half of Oz's favorite team;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;The Wizard&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;And I!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;The clever lyrics ("I'll melt") make reference to what we know will happen from the movie.&amp;nbsp; Here, Stephen Schwartz employs his own gift of double-entendres in lyrics.&amp;nbsp; She says that she would want nothing more than the Wizard's full attention until her death.&amp;nbsp; In fact, once she gets the Wizard's attention, that sets forth all the actions that lead to her death at the hands of the Wizard's proxy: Dorothy.&amp;nbsp; People will scream when they saw her, but not because she is so famous and popular, but because they are terrified of her.&amp;nbsp; She is forever linked with the Wizard, but as enemies instead of collaborators.&amp;nbsp; Her sexuality and magic developed in opposition to this older sexual partner because he became a sexual and magical rival.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-5304978393047347836?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5304978393047347836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/bit-of-academics.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/5304978393047347836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/5304978393047347836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/bit-of-academics.html' title='A bit of academics'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-7900507408557010424</id><published>2008-09-21T10:41:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T10:41:01.044-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Review: Krapp's Last Tape</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3074/2872894276_17cae34dcf.jpg?v=0" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3074/2872894276_17cae34dcf.jpg?v=0" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;sup&gt;*&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;The &lt;a href="http://www.warehousetheatre.com/"&gt;Warehouse Theatre&lt;/a&gt; is currently presenting &lt;i&gt;Krapp's Last Tape&lt;/i&gt; as the first in their "&lt;a href="http://www.warehousetheatre.com/Season/edge.php"&gt;On the Edge&lt;/a&gt;" series.&amp;nbsp; I saw the Friday night showing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is considered Beckett's most accessible play, and the least absurd.&amp;nbsp; The program inserts gave a great summary of the origin and goals of absurdist theatre, including the noncohesion of the movement.&amp;nbsp; This play is more like a fishbowl than an absurdist play, though it certainly has all the elements of absurdism.&amp;nbsp; The entire play takes place around midnight of Krapp's 69th birthday in his den.&amp;nbsp; Every year on his birthday, Krapp records his recollections, revelations, and aspirations on a reel-to-reel machine and catalogs the spools.&amp;nbsp; Tonight, he listens to one while waiting for his birthday to arrive, then records the titular spool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warehouse brought in an actor from Tennessee, a professor if my &lt;a href="http://www.greenvilleonline.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=2008809140305"&gt;sources&lt;/a&gt; are correct, to play Krapp.&amp;nbsp; There are lots of authentic and faithful ways to play Krapp: a clownish buffoon, a hyper-tragic character, a loser full of pathos, an everyman beginning the slide to senility and decripitude.&amp;nbsp; &lt;a href="http://www.greenvilleonline.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=2008809140305"&gt;Crosby Hunt&lt;/a&gt; hits all of those points masterfully.&amp;nbsp; His acting was clean, direct, and exactly what the script calls for.&amp;nbsp; The first third of the play is completely without words, and it would be easy for an actor to rush through the movements to get to the words.&amp;nbsp; Mr. Hunt took his time, savoring each movement like his character savored the word "spool".&amp;nbsp; His movements after the words took over the play were inconsistent with his character a couple times, but it rarely broke me out of the show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't get away without mentioning the lighting.&amp;nbsp; I have rarely seen lighting used so well.&amp;nbsp; There are two moments in the script that call for Krapp to interact with lamps on stage, but the lighting served as set changes, characters to interact with Krapp, and as windows into Krapp's mental processes.&amp;nbsp; Kudos to the designer and lighting tech(s).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having seen other productions of this play before, I set myself a mental exercise to take every action by Krapp at face value, ignoring any attempt at symbolism and looking for evidence in the text that there is nothing absurd about what is happening on stage; the only absurdity is the world around Krapp outside his den.&amp;nbsp; This was difficult to accomplish, as director Paul Savas (also the artistic and executive director of Warehouse Theatre) layered on the symbolism.&amp;nbsp; This is not a criticism.&amp;nbsp; The symbolism was never heavy-handed, and often innovative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The performance space was wonderfully delicious.&amp;nbsp; The next time I go I'll get some pictures; my batteries died so I got nothing for this post.&amp;nbsp; All in all, this performance earns an enthusiastic recommendation from me.&amp;nbsp; While not everyone has the constitution for absurdist theater, this production is a great introduction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;sup&gt;*&lt;/sup&gt;I put new batteries in when I got home and took the pic of the programs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-7900507408557010424?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7900507408557010424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/review-krapps-last-tape.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/7900507408557010424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/7900507408557010424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/review-krapps-last-tape.html' title='Review: Krapp&apos;s Last Tape'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-1830179075529477890</id><published>2008-09-20T10:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T10:30:00.118-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversation of the Day</title><content type='html'>A.k.a., Separated by a Common Language&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Setting: Burger King drive-thru&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;"Can Ah help you?"&lt;/div&gt;"Yes, I'd like a large vanilla shake please."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;"A lahge vanilla what?"&lt;/div&gt;"Shake."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;"A what, sugah?"&lt;/div&gt;"A shake.&amp;nbsp; A large vanilla shake.&amp;nbsp; Please."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;"Do you mean a milkshake, sweetie?"&lt;/div&gt;"Yes.&amp;nbsp; Large and vanilla, please."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;"Sho nuff.&amp;nbsp; Drahve around."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-1830179075529477890?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1830179075529477890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/conversation-of-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/1830179075529477890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/1830179075529477890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/conversation-of-day.html' title='Conversation of the Day'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-2103430177399395712</id><published>2008-09-20T09:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T10:42:52.160-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Updatery</title><content type='html'>School has been eating up all my time, and I can't believe it's been 10 days since my last post.&amp;nbsp; So here's some random info on what's been going on with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend I went out and found &lt;a href="http://www.simon.com/mall/default.aspx?ID=206"&gt;the mall&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp; I live just up the street from a fairly large shopping center, with an Old Navy and movie theaters, but this is what people around here refer to when they say "I'm going to the mall."&amp;nbsp; It's about 15 minutes away and at first I thought it was tiny.&amp;nbsp; Then I found the second floor.&amp;nbsp; It's about the same size as the Meridian Mall, with all the normal mall stores (Spencer's, Abercrombie, Belk, etc.).&amp;nbsp; Weirdly, there were as many vacant fronts in the food court as there were in the entire rest of the mall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also sold tickets at the football game recently. As I was put on the athletic committee, I have to work two football games, and selling tickets is the least objectionable of those jobs (security? cleanup? concessions? no thanks!).&amp;nbsp; Each of us three sellers were given a roll of 1000 tickets.&amp;nbsp; I sold through mine and almost 300 tickets of the guy-next-to-me's roll.&amp;nbsp; (That's a horribly awkward construction, sorry.)&amp;nbsp; This, of course, caused the athletic director some mild conniptions in accounting since each money bag should only have the money in it that corresponds to that roll of tickets.&amp;nbsp; I guess what I should have done was taken his tickets and his money bag both since his window was shut down.&amp;nbsp; It's not like it was that tough to figure out: my bag should have all the money for 1000 tickets; anything extra goes in my neighbor's bag.&amp;nbsp; But, I guess that's what happens when you just stick someone in front of a window with no training, lock them in the booth, and leave them alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did a really cool chem lab the other day where we turn pennies into "silver" and "gold".&amp;nbsp; As with all great chem labs, you know it wasn't really great unless there was an injury.&amp;nbsp; Behold:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3182/2872921892_c26d8bee11.jpg?v=0" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3182/2872921892_c26d8bee11.jpg?v=0" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;El-li-ot!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School pictures are in.&amp;nbsp; Never happy, but wev.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3264/2872890798_798e9ca224.jpg?v=0" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3264/2872890798_798e9ca224.jpg?v=0" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I was in the &lt;a href="http://www.goupstate.com/article/20080917/NEWS/1320/1088/sports&amp;amp;title=Prep_Notebook"&gt;news&lt;/a&gt; recently (this link may not work for long).&amp;nbsp; Here's a screen cap of it along with the kids hamming it up before the severe trouncing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3180/2872071889_1fe63533d9.jpg?v=0" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3180/2872071889_1fe63533d9.jpg?v=0" width="154" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3137/2872059743_c94c6a85ae.jpg?v=0" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3137/2872059743_c94c6a85ae.jpg?v=0" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heading to see &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Copenhagen_%28play%29"&gt;Copenhagen&lt;/a&gt; tonight at the local university.&amp;nbsp; Expect a review soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-2103430177399395712?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2103430177399395712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/random-updatery.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/2103430177399395712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/2103430177399395712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/random-updatery.html' title='Random Updatery'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-7907152404990451919</id><published>2008-09-19T22:09:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T00:51:54.096-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ITLAPD</title><content type='html'>In celebration of International Talk Like a Pirate Day, my &lt;strike&gt;worst&lt;/strike&gt; best:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A pirate's favorite chemical element?&amp;nbsp; Arrrrgon&lt;br /&gt;A pirate's favorite transitional fossil?&amp;nbsp; Arrrrchaeopteryx&lt;br /&gt;A pirate's favorite ancient Greek ship?&amp;nbsp; The Arrrrgos&lt;br /&gt;A pirate's favorite pair of socks?&amp;nbsp; Arrrrgyle&lt;br /&gt;A pirate's favorite Parisian landmark? L'Arrrrche de Triomphe&lt;br /&gt;A pirate's favorite comic strip cat owner?&amp;nbsp; Jon Arrrrbuckle&lt;br /&gt;A pirate's favorite fast food restaurant?&amp;nbsp; Arrrrby's&lt;br /&gt;A pirate's favorite foreign-born American governor?&amp;nbsp; Arrrrnold Schwartzenneger&lt;br /&gt;A pirate's favorite Dutch WWII landmark?&amp;nbsp; Arrrrnhem Bridge&lt;br /&gt;A pirate's favorite Victorian adventure novel?&amp;nbsp; Arrround the World in Eighty Days&lt;br /&gt;A pirate's favorite overestimated stage play?&amp;nbsp; Arrrsenic and Old Lace&lt;br /&gt;A pirate's favorite modern aesthetic movement?&amp;nbsp; Arrrrt deco&lt;br /&gt;A pirate's favorite Caribbean vacation spot?&amp;nbsp; Arrrruba&lt;br /&gt;A pirate's favorite conservationist holiday?&amp;nbsp; Arrrrbor Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put your own in the comments.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-7907152404990451919?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7907152404990451919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/itlapd.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/7907152404990451919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/7907152404990451919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/itlapd.html' title='ITLAPD'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-2250424143254993623</id><published>2008-09-09T17:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T17:16:16.507-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In which Joel really pisses off his cat</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SMb1RMiRjZI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Y4mqoX_cJz8/s1600-h/Picture+1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SMb1RMiRjZI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Y4mqoX_cJz8/s400/Picture+1.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244148491891084690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-2250424143254993623?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2250424143254993623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/in-which-joel-really-pisses-off-his-cat.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/2250424143254993623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/2250424143254993623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/in-which-joel-really-pisses-off-his-cat.html' title='In which Joel really pisses off his cat'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SMb1RMiRjZI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Y4mqoX_cJz8/s72-c/Picture+1.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-4329751837082770249</id><published>2008-09-09T14:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T14:00:00.209-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Review: Twelfth Night</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3209/2840975667_7b7a017a1f.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3209/2840975667_7b7a017a1f.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night I went to see the Warehouse Theatre's production of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night.  It was part of the Upstate Shakespeare Festival and performed outdoors in Falls Park on the Reedy (River).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3024/2841809672_815a1ebf19.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3024/2841809672_815a1ebf19.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The local paper essentially &lt;a href="http://www.greenvilleonline.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=2008809050338"&gt;panned&lt;/a&gt; the production, calling it "bedlam" and "frenzied", to which I say, how else should a Shakespearean comedy be played?  It was the best kind of bedlam and frenzied in a way that enhanced everyone's enjoyment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was truly amazed with the production, even through its odd choices.  Perhaps Viola and Sebastian were on an acid trip instead of a sailing ship and that's how they ended up in Illyria.  It is costumed as 1960s-era hippies and professionals.  Sadly I have no pictures of the performance as photography was banned, and understandably so.  The swordfight happens about 30 minutes after sunset, just as the actors' eyes are adjusting to the stage lighting.  Flashes going off at that moment would be very bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3078/2840974879_83b1e70608.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3078/2840974879_83b1e70608.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of the main characters, the only two with whom I had any issue were Malvolio and Viola.  He wasn't nearly mean enough at the beginning so when he comes out dressed in yellow, prancing and smiling, there wasn't enough of a contrast to really affect the audience.  The part requires him to go from essentially Lurch with acid reflux to Wakko Warner.  Viola just felt amateurish.  Her phrasing and gesticulation were inconsistent and didn't really help draw the audience into the illusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olivia was outstandingly manic while pursuing Cesario.  Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and the maids were hilarious and quite easy to understand.  Aguecheek deserves special accolades.  The part of the "silly knight" is too often played as farce, but the actor made him completely believable and sympathetic.  You felt bad that he was never going to get Olivia.  Maria the maid needs to get a job at a Ren Faire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those playing the most minor parts were very uninteresting.  They shouted their lines out as though they were offended their part was so small.  The smallest parts can steal the show, especially in Shakespeare (see: the beggar in Macbeth and Peter in Romeo and Juliet).  They didn't seem to be having any fun and stumbled through their parts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some important person was making a speech.  In fact, this is just after he said, "If you want any pictures of people on stage, you had better take a picture now, because photos are banned during the production."  So I took his picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3025/2841812760_4e95da41e5.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3025/2841812760_4e95da41e5.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, look, even the Theater People Who Try Too Hard (Local 4599) showed up.  Yes, she is wearing ski goggles.  I wasn't able to get a picture of the guy who was wearing the gold lamé tee-shirt; he stayed behind the crowds often.  Yeah.  Universal.  Quick: name the endearing theater-people stereotypes!  (I only mock because these are my people.  I may not wear the clothes, but I am at home among them.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3218/2841811952_d497b12d2d.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3218/2841811952_d497b12d2d.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In short, if anyone reads this who is in the Greenville area, go see this show!  It's well worth your time and it's free.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-4329751837082770249?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4329751837082770249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/review-twelfth-night.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/4329751837082770249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/4329751837082770249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/review-twelfth-night.html' title='Review: Twelfth Night'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-8668189193305880827</id><published>2008-09-09T08:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T08:00:01.427-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Does anyone else...</title><content type='html'>...wish the George Foreman Grill had a setting somewhere between off and solar flare?  Maybe I can hook up a rheostat so my chicken is done in the middle before growing a black carbon shield on the outside.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-8668189193305880827?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8668189193305880827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/does-anyone-else.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/8668189193305880827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/8668189193305880827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/does-anyone-else.html' title='Does anyone else...'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-3578108275151097656</id><published>2008-09-08T19:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T20:11:44.332-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Greenville, the desperate city</title><content type='html'>Now, I am an actor and by definition full of myself, but I know I'm no Jake or Brad.  Therefore I was totally unprepared for what has transpired over the last couple weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two weekends ago I received my official certification to teach in South Carolina.  Aside from making me legal, it also confirmed my level of education and teaching experience, essentially giving me a 25% raise.  So I decided to treat myself to a little meal out, just to celebrate.  It was at the Golden Corral.  Yeah, I know, but I hadn't gotten the money yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My waiter was a sort of cute-ish Latino guy.  Nothing great, a bit older, good looking enough for his age.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Very&lt;/span&gt; friendly.  Not flamingly gay but obvious enough to those who might care to look (or be desperately looking for someone else who was gay).  Brought me extra hot rolls, not a euphemism.  Kept my sweet tea filled, also not a euphemism.  Gave me his digits before I left.  Yeah. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, last Friday I decided to do a real dinner to celebrate my first paycheck, which didn't actually get credited to my account until three days later, but that's beside the point.  I went to the Olive Garden that is just down the road from me.  Yummy.  Never-Ending Pasta Bowl.  House wine.  Dee-lish.  Had a delightful young waitress with a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Beverley Hills, 90210&lt;/span&gt; name.  Perky thing.  Very young.  Very thorough and generous.  Also gave me her number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in Owosso I couldn't get hit on, with one wonderful exception, except by creepy old men.  In five weeks in South Carolina I've gotten unrequested phone numbers from two people of differing genders and ages.  Just how depserate is Greenville?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-3578108275151097656?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3578108275151097656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/greenville-desperate-city.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/3578108275151097656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/3578108275151097656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/greenville-desperate-city.html' title='Greenville, the desperate city'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-4680083861237194094</id><published>2008-09-07T13:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T14:02:58.486-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lack of posting</title><content type='html'>Sorry for the distinct lack of posting this week.  Grading, after-school meetings, theatrical productions, and more grading has kept me really busy.  I have some postings scheduled for this week, so tune in!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-4680083861237194094?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4680083861237194094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/lack-of-posting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/4680083861237194094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/4680083861237194094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/lack-of-posting.html' title='Lack of posting'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-2562546897877877331</id><published>2008-09-01T14:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T15:20:41.879-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In which Joel gets political</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted this for nearly a week because I wanted to make sure I wasn't posting out of anger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At our staff meeting last week, we were discussing the upcoming Community Day.  We're inviting all parents, students, alumni as far back as the high school goes, and community members to join us for a day celebrating who we are, what we do, and how we can all work together to help the students. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The church down the street printed up a bunch of football-shaped magnets that list our team's football schedule, and include (in very small print) the church's logo and contact information. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The principal was saying how the pastor asked if he could have a booth set up at the Community Day to distribute those magnets.  She told us that she told him no, because if she allowed a church group to come on school grounds and distribute anything, then "any other group, even, like, a gay or lesbian group or something like that could demand to come onto school grounds, and we'd have to let them.  I mean, it's their choice and whatever, but we know what would happen if they came here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine me trying not to let my face flush or break the pen that is in my hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Church-state separation is a separate issue and no secular groups could sue for access to school grounds based on allowing a church group to be on school grounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I don't know what would happen if "they" showed up.  Recruitment?  Gasp!  Porn?  Gasp!  Education?  Double gasp!  I'll ignore the thing about choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is why we need a national, inclusive &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Employment_Non-Discrimination_Act"&gt;ENDA&lt;/a&gt;.  Michiganders, you aren't safe unless you work for the state government.  Ain't nobody safe here.  I would have no recourse if I were fired simply for being who I am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not want to hear arguments about how ENDA would force religious employers to hire people who don't agree with their business's goals.  I don't want to hear about churches who are afraid they might have a transgendered person using a restroom that doesn't match their biological sex.  White churches opposed the Civil Rights Act of 1964.  Freedom from offense is not guaranteed in the Constitution; human rights are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barack Obama &lt;a href="http://www.barackobama.com/pdf/lgbt.pdf"&gt;supports inclusive ENDA&lt;/a&gt; and has sponsored similar legislation while in Illinois.  John McCain categorically opposed any type of ENDA legislation.  McCain's web site has no section specific to LGBT issues.  He has made his position clear when he voted against anti-discrimination legislation for LGBT folks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ponder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-2562546897877877331?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2562546897877877331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/in-which-joel-gets-political.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/2562546897877877331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/2562546897877877331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/in-which-joel-gets-political.html' title='In which Joel gets political'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-6830167714364986173</id><published>2008-09-01T14:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T14:56:26.251-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A clarification</title><content type='html'>The owners of Green Creek Wineries read my review of their harvest festival and took issue with it in a very sternly-worded email.  I want to make it clear that I did very much enjoy my time there and their wine was delicious.  I did not take the tour that was being offered because it was very crowded and planned on making a return trip to tour the facilities and buy some more of their wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems I was mistaken about the jeweler.  I was told she makes her own jewelry, and if so then she is highly talented.  I saw a glossy-page catalog and made the assumption that the jewelry was from the catalog, not that she produced the catalog from her hand-made jewelry.  My own personal taste still says that the jewelry is overly big and gaudy, but it was so well made that I assumed it was factory-produced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They also challenged me to come up there and prove my own musical ability before judging someone else's ability.  I don't have to do that.  The musicians did not play much while I was there and when they did play I was not very impressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do wish I had stayed long enough for the stomping; it looked like real fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The owners also took umbrage that I said they "bill themselves" as the inventors of the first red chardonnay, which they call &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chardonnay Rosso&lt;/span&gt;.  I phrased it that way because I haven't verified it.  I'm not implying that they are lying or just pulling a PR stunt; I have no information one way or the other aside from their claim.  I thought it was a neutral enough phrase.  Oh, and  I don't prefer red, so please don't go telling me that inventing a new red is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ad oculos&lt;/span&gt; a great thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't put off by the presence of the politicians and their entourages.  If anything that told me how important the festival was and I was delighted to see that the winery was so important. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did have a good time, and enjoyed the wine.  However, responding to customers or potential customers with anger is not the way to win people over.  I'm much less inclined to visit them now, but did want to clarify my experiences just so nobody got the idea that I was bored or didn't have fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-6830167714364986173?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6830167714364986173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/clarification.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/6830167714364986173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/6830167714364986173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/clarification.html' title='A clarification'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-282943416756748456</id><published>2008-08-30T19:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T20:37:32.025-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wine festival</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3101/2811611011_339e6f0075.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3101/2811611011_339e6f0075.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday I had dinner with myB's mom and brother before the football game.  Yum!  Steak, potatoes, salad, &lt;a href="http://www.cheerwine.com/"&gt;Cheerwine&lt;/a&gt;, and key lime pie.  (Cheerwine is like Carolina Faygo.)  It was all sorts of fun and delicious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I drove back to school for the football game. I got there about 15 minutes before kickoff. It seems football is a bigger deal than I expected. There was not a single parking space. I mean that all of the regular spots were taken, all of the grass spots were taken, and all of the sidewalks were taken. The areas that required driving over curbs were even full (though Jessica would have gone there in a heartbeat). So I went home and watched the game on TV. Yeah, they broadcast football games live. High school football games. Pressure? Expectations? Yeah. I think it's a bit over the top for that level of play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings us to today. myB's mom invited me to Green Creek Winery for their harvest festival. Instead of going to the blessing of the grapes, we went to the Junction. (I wrote about my last time there in &lt;a href="http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/food-glorious-southern-food.html"&gt;this post&lt;/a&gt;.)  myB's grandpa couldn't join us, so we snuck a bunch of fat back out in grandma's purse for him.  Then to the winery!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sorry for the quality of the pics.  I left my camera at school over the weekend and used my phone.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3247/2812457906_4af081ca36.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3247/2812457906_4af081ca36.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They advertised grape stomping.  This was apparently the apparatus for said stomping.  They didn't do it while we were there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3173/2811611145_f0077603dc.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3173/2811611145_f0077603dc.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were a few vendors selling local wood craft, local pottery, and some jewelry from one of those catalogs of really expensive and gaudy jewelry that many women use as a supplement to their income by hosting parties and selling it.  Except it was being sold here.  When I was looking it over, there was a great English (or north Bostonian) woman with her parasol to keep off the sun who wanted to make sure that the bag she was using wasn't going to bend her new earrings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3214/2812458024_55e604c3a0.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3214/2812458024_55e604c3a0.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was live entertainment, what appeared to be a husband/wife, guitar/keyboard instrument duet called "Minor Adjustments".  Utterly forgettable.  That's why I framed them so far back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3058/2811611305_b4f419e73a.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3058/2811611305_b4f419e73a.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Special guests: Ethel and Lucy!  For the stomping, of course.  You do know what the &lt;a href="http://www.clown-ministry.com/index_1.php/site/articles/lucys_italian_movie_i_love_lucy/"&gt;reference&lt;/a&gt; is, right?  Please?  Don't make me feel that old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3034/2811611357_b27611b4e2.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3034/2811611357_b27611b4e2.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were also a bunch of politicians there, including Kay Hagan, the woman who is running to oppose Senator Dole.  Don't get me started on Dole or Hagan.  I had lots of people wanting to register me to vote for them or take their literature.  They weren't happy to learn I was from the next state down.  Sorry for the awful quality of this.  The woman in pink (who really was fairly fit) just slumped down and my camera autofocused on her back instead of Hagan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3111/2811611395_aa1387d841.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3111/2811611395_aa1387d841.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're planning on going back at some point to have a tour of the production process.  They bill themselves as the inventors of the first red chardonnay.  I'm not sure that's a good thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-282943416756748456?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/282943416756748456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/wine-festival.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/282943416756748456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/282943416756748456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/wine-festival.html' title='Wine festival'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-7545867936138895377</id><published>2008-08-27T05:04:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T05:14:42.548-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The morning welcome committee</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://content.answers.com/main/content/wp/en/3/3b/American-cockroach.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://content.answers.com/main/content/wp/en/3/3b/American-cockroach.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday morning.  Not what one wants to have greeting one at 5:00 a.m.  myB tells me they are just common to find in houses down here.  That doesn't make me feel any better.  When I told my students about it, they had two reactions: (1) laughing at me for being freaked out by a cockroach and (2) amazed that Michigan was actually so cold that they couldn't survive there.  I believe they now think Michigan = Antarctica.  Wev, just so long as the roach traps/bait I bought work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-7545867936138895377?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7545867936138895377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/morning-welcome-committee.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/7545867936138895377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/7545867936138895377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/morning-welcome-committee.html' title='The morning welcome committee'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-7535433491847387514</id><published>2008-08-26T21:02:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T21:08:23.069-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you there, Fay?  It's me, Joel</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SLS2Cd3sAfI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/AJQiMrmYXSQ/s1600-h/Picture+1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SLS2Cd3sAfI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/AJQiMrmYXSQ/s400/Picture+1.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239012420032922098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SLS22U38LDI/AAAAAAAAAIY/VhI5JPSyB3Q/s1600-h/Picture+2.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SLS22U38LDI/AAAAAAAAAIY/VhI5JPSyB3Q/s400/Picture+2.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239013310971259954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you.  *sniff*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-7535433491847387514?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7535433491847387514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/are-you-there-fay-its-me-joel.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/7535433491847387514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/7535433491847387514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/are-you-there-fay-its-me-joel.html' title='Are you there, Fay?  It&apos;s me, Joel'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SLS2Cd3sAfI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/AJQiMrmYXSQ/s72-c/Picture+1.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-1640586550203941253</id><published>2008-08-25T14:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T14:00:00.989-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just one question</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/common/imagedata/0,,6215233,00.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/common/imagedata/0,,6215233,00.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why were those Chinese performers hitting those poor humongous wheels of cheese?  What did the cheese ever do to them?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-1640586550203941253?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1640586550203941253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/just-one-question.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/1640586550203941253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/1640586550203941253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/just-one-question.html' title='Just one question'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-8229876238428456554</id><published>2008-08-24T14:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T14:00:00.854-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mood for the day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://media.tumblr.com/fSymsOGXOcyiui78aHhzrA8D_500.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://media.tumblr.com/fSymsOGXOcyiui78aHhzrA8D_500.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a card from myB the other day.  I still haven't finished reading it...made me cry.  And you know how good those English majors are with words and stuff.  Made me start missing everyone again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(The comic is from the genius site &lt;a href="http://garfieldminusgarfield.net/"&gt;Garfield Minus Garfield&lt;/a&gt;.  Give it a look.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-8229876238428456554?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8229876238428456554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/mood-for-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/8229876238428456554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/8229876238428456554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/mood-for-day.html' title='Mood for the day'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-6911137043459530432</id><published>2008-08-24T10:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T11:24:24.966-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Review: Centre Stage's "Tomfoolery"</title><content type='html'>My first foray into the theatre scene here in Greenville was to see "&lt;a href="http://www.tomlehrer.org/tomlehrer/enter.html"&gt;Tomfoolery&lt;/a&gt;", a tour of the songs of Tom Lehrer, at &lt;a href="http://www.centrestage.org/"&gt;Centre Stage&lt;/a&gt; ("Greenville's Professional Theater").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom Lehrer got his undergraduate degree in mathematics from Harvard, then became the premiere satiracal songwriter of the 1950s, 1960s, and even a bit into the 1970s.  Logical progression, no?  Both Weird Al and Dr. Demento consider him one of the greats in satire and comedy writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Centre Stage is a small theater that holds somewhere between 200 and 300 audience members in a highly raked stadium-type seating with the stage at ground level.  The performance space is small with no separation between the audience and the actors.  This performance utilized its space wonderfully, often sending the actors into the audience and interacting with the audience many times.  The set consisted of a single wall on a raised platform, two stools, a bench, and a piano and keyboard situated stage left for the lone musician.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been a Tom Lehrer fan for years, and already owned the cast recording of the original London production, produced by Cameron Mackintosh, no less!  A few of the songs on that 1981 recording were missing from this show, to no loss, and some great songs took their places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With only a few exceptions (Vatican Rag, She's My Girl, The Old Dope Peddler), the writing was outstanding.  The main problems with these specific songs is that every other song was so over-the-top and so beyond the pale, these few just felt too normal and conventional.  Vatican Rag just really doesn't work, and I don't think ever has.  It's a great idea (the Catholic church has updated their liturgical hymnbook with more contemporary song styles: "Two, four, six, eight, it's time to transsubstantiate!") but  I'm not sure any actors could pull this song off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the show was brilliant, and several songs were updated to make the satire more timely and a couple times localized.  The updating was great, including references to the current presidential race.  The localization felt forced, as it often does.  References to the local river or nearby cities jarred me out of the illusion of the show.  With a cast of four plus a keyboardist, who often functioned effectively as a fifth member of the cast, every person needs to be at the top of their game the entire show, and this cast did not disappoint the audience.  Special notice needs to go to Debra Capps and Chris White.  In a show that requires actors to leave any self-consciousness at the door, Chris and Debra dove into their roles with amazing gusto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angie Price pulled off the two most difficult songs in the show with almost no effort.  "&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SmwlzwGMMwc"&gt;The Elements&lt;/a&gt;", a listing of the elements of the period table sung to the tune of "I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General", at tempo, and "&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tx5KDyvlG3Q"&gt;New Math&lt;/a&gt;", wherein she teaches a lesson in song on subtraction involving &lt;strike&gt;borrowing&lt;/strike&gt; renaming in both base 10 and base 8.  Extraordinarily difficult and executed brilliantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A great show to see and a great show to perform when there is a small space, limited cast availability, and small band.  I can't wait to see the next show at Centre Stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW: You should scroll back up to the top and click on the Centre Stage link and find the sexy cowboy they are using in their ads this season.  Click on the "Season" tab.  Definitely worth it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-6911137043459530432?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6911137043459530432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/review-centre-stages-tomfoolery.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/6911137043459530432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/6911137043459530432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/review-centre-stages-tomfoolery.html' title='Review: Centre Stage&apos;s &quot;Tomfoolery&quot;'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-5155032213256619013</id><published>2008-08-23T09:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T09:53:46.572-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Confession</title><content type='html'>Okay, Fay, I'm big enough to admit when I've been proven wrong.  You may not have come on strong, but you've got the staying power, girlfriend!  Hitting Florida &lt;strike&gt;three&lt;/strike&gt; four times, dumping almost a yard of water, stalling near St. Augustine, and just to show me you were listening sending a little cell of rain up here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was wrong about you.  I admit it.  Enjoy your stay in the South.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-5155032213256619013?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5155032213256619013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-confession.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/5155032213256619013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/5155032213256619013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-confession.html' title='My Confession'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-2039038117706591404</id><published>2008-08-22T14:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T14:00:00.996-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions for Americans, Part VI</title><content type='html'>(Parts &lt;a href="http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-i.html"&gt;1&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-ii.html"&gt;2&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-iii.html"&gt;3&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-iv.html"&gt;4&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-v.html"&gt;5&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;21.  How do we speak out and how do you plan to do something about [human trafficking and slavery, including sex traffic and slavery]?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See above.  Human traffickers and their clients need to be vigorously pursued and prosecuted, and if the countries of primary jurisdiction won't prosecute, they need to be tried in any country they have ever done business in until the international community can make it too risky to engage in this trafficking.  It will take international cooperation, primarily through the United Nations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;22.  Why do you want to be president?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Insert stump speech here.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;23.  What do you say to people who oppose me asking you these questions [in a church]?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way Warren asked Senator Obama this question, he made it sound as if it were about him ("What do you say to people who oppose me asking you these questions?" implied emphasis on the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;.)  He clarified when he asked Senator McCain by asking the entire question you see above.  The first version didn't make much sense to me.  Anybody should be able to ask presidential candidates reasonable questions.  But since he clarified and gave me the opening, I'll bite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a long tradition of separation of church and state in the US.  While this separation is not directly Constitutional, we do have an establishment clause in the Constitution, and the separation does date to the writings of the same man who drafted the Declaration of Independence.  It's generally pointless arguing original intent of the founding fathers when they never specifically address an issue (like abortion, gay marriage, pornography, etc.), but in this case we have direct writing on a specific issue from one of the crafters of the country's founding documents!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What tends to happen, and this is exactly what's happening with McCain, is that people get so hung up on the minutæ of religion and religious beliefs that they ignore everything else.  Does the flavor of christianity of a candidate really matter when the country is approaching a recession while involved in two wars and presumably facing daily threats of international terrorism?  Does it really matter what name is on the front of a candiate's church (if they even go to church) if they have a comprehensive energy and economic plan? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It should not.  And this is the problem with having this forum in a church.  Both candidates appear to be running for the position of Preacher-In-Chief.  No other location or moderator would give such an impression.  If they had this forum in the Staples Center and were interviewed by Bobby Knight, nobody would assume they were trying to win over basketball fans, nor that their choice of who they cheer for would make that much of a difference in their campaign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warren has been quite outspoken about the candidates, clearly supporting Republican candidates over Democrats, and whatever candidate "wins" the forum will be presumed to be the choice of evangelical christians across the country and assumed to support the doctrine of the Lake Forest church. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a two-fold problem.  The evangelical vote is a very loud minority who wants to do away with many of the United Nations' human rights, and both candidates have fallen into the trap of trying to appease and win their vocal support.  Does a candidate really want to be associated with diminution of human rights?  Second, we've already seen on a national scale what happens to candidates who are too closely associated with a specific church doctrine.  Both Senator Obama and Senator McCain have faced criticism based on their pastors' public statements.  Why should they get involved with another outspoken pastor whose theology will now get scrutinized and criticized?  Why would either candidate want to potentially open himself up to such criticism?  A person's choice in belief systems is their own.  One may be able to glean some insight about what the candidates think about social issues, or the economy, or globalism, by knowing their specific religious beliefs, but why not just ask them about social issues, the economy, or globalism?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't read the candidates' responses to this question.  I'm not interested in what they say because the reason is obvious: they want the vociferous evangelicals to start chanting their names from the pulpets. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;24.  What would you tell the American public if you knew there wouldn’t be any repercussions? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's assume he meant negative repercussions.  How about, "If you want governmental social programs, a clean environment, and peace and security, you have one option: pay more taxes.  The government can not provide services, and clean and protect the air and water, and provide armed forces and security without money to pay for them.  Upset about soldiers not getting enough protective equipment?  Pony up for it.  Upset that it takes too long for the government to fix your roads?  Pony up for it.  Upset that college is costing you too much out of pocket?  You're going to have to pay more taxes for the government to put more money into the schools.  Government may print the money, but they can't make it appear out of nothing."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-2039038117706591404?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2039038117706591404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-vi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/2039038117706591404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/2039038117706591404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-vi.html' title='Questions for Americans, Part VI'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-705668336833317076</id><published>2008-08-22T05:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T05:17:41.279-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I will derive</title><content type='html'>Turn it up and get ready to dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/P9dpTTpjymE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/P9dpTTpjymE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-705668336833317076?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/705668336833317076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-will-derive.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/705668336833317076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/705668336833317076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-will-derive.html' title='I will derive'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-5419654675740993342</id><published>2008-08-21T14:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T14:00:01.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions for Americans, Part V</title><content type='html'>(Parts &lt;a href="http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-i.html"&gt;1&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-ii.html"&gt;2&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-iii.html"&gt;3&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-iv.html"&gt;4&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;17.  What’s worth dying for?  What’s worth having sacrifice of American lives for?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would die to protect my friends or family.  There are very few ideas that I would be willing to die for, but to die for a person is a different matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To sacrifice American lives one should have willing combatants fighting for the survival of America or justified in the name of human rights violations.  I have no problem with a draft if it is for the survival of the country, but that hasn't been necessary since either the war of 1812 or the Civil War, depending on how you view it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;18.  What would be the criteria that you would commit troops to end the genocide, for instance, like what's going on in Darfur or could happen in Georgia or anywhere else, a mass killing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The UN has established thirty basic &lt;a href="http://www.un.org/rights/"&gt;human&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.youthforhumanrights.org"&gt;rights&lt;/a&gt;.  If the UN decides that the rights are being violated and other means have been exhausted, meaning military action is the last resort, then troops should be mobilized along with other troops from other countries.  Of course, this requires proactive stances on global justice and human rights, not waiting for the genocide to begin before starting negotiations.  That would be an administrative and ambassadorial policy change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;19.  Would you be willing to consider and even commit to doing some kind of emergency plan for orphans like President Bush did with AIDS almost a President's emergency plan for orphans to deal with this issue?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The transcriber had written "other fan" for "orphan", and it took me a bit to figure out what they meant when I saw "148 million other fans around the world".  Tee-hee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pepfar.gov/"&gt;PEPFAR&lt;/a&gt; was a great piece of legislation on the whole.  However, much of the orphan problem stems from lack of action from rich governments over the past decades.  Allowing AIDS to run rampant in the underdeveloped nations is a sin against human rights that future generations will be ashamed of.  Many millions of these orphans are alone because their parents died of preventable disease, including HIV/AIDS.  Regarding AIDS prevention as a matter of abstinence denies basic facts and repeated research.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not believe an emergency plan on orphans would be useful.  That's like a patient coming into the doctor with a severe fever, and the doctor only prescribing an antifebrile.  Treating the symptoms won't help without treating the cause.  Continued comprehensive HIV/AIDS prevention and treatment, other disease-fighting programs, reduction in wars and genocide prevention, refugee aid, and sewage treatment around the world will save lives and prevent orphans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;20.  Religious persecution, what do you think the US should do to end religious persecution for instance in China, in Iraq and in many of our allies.  I'm not just talking about persecution of Christianity, particularly with the persecution around the world that persecutes millions of people?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first part of that question I wanted to interpret as: What do you think the US should do to end persecution of people by religions?  It's clear that isn't what Warren wanted to ask.  Warren wanted to know how the US can protect the spread of christianity around the world.  This IS NOT and SHOULD NOT be a priority of the government.  There is a difference between protecting people from persecution and making it easier to spread one particular religion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's an interesting fact: the vast majority of religious persecution is at the hand of, wait for it, religious leaders.  That's right.  Christians are persecuted by muslims, muslims are persecuted by christians and jews, hindus are persecuted by all of the above.  Athiests are especially persecuted in the media and culture, not to mention in jobs, in the US.  Any human rights that are violated need to be addresses as above.  Or, to quote John Lennon, "Imagine...nothing to kill or die for, and no religion too, imagine all the people living life in peace."  Getting rid of religion won't end world conflicts, but think of how many fewer there'd be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-5419654675740993342?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5419654675740993342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-v.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/5419654675740993342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/5419654675740993342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-v.html' title='Questions for Americans, Part V'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-7873073670717895246</id><published>2008-08-20T14:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T14:00:00.831-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions for Americans, Part IV</title><content type='html'>(Parts &lt;a href="http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-i.html"&gt;1&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-ii.html"&gt;2&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-iii.html"&gt;3&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;13.  Would you insist that faith based organizations forfeit that right [to hire people who share their beliefs] to access federal funds?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another question that doesn't ask what it's really asking.  Any group that receives federal funding for providing services to the community must follow all non-discrimination policies of the federal government.  The question isn't whether they can hire people who share their beliefs, but whether they will be forced to hire people who do not share their beliefs.  And the answer is obvious to me: you take the government's money, you are subject to the government's rules, including equal employment.  It may be that the churches/FBOs are in the best positions to provide services to a community, but if they are providing discriminatory services, they have no business acting on the government's behalf and should be excluded from access to funding. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not, as many like to claim, an imposition on or limitation on their ability to practice their own religion.  They are welcome to so what they like, fulfilling their own missions, with their own money and free from governmental interference.  Once they start taking money to act as a branch of the government, they have to follow all the same rules as any other branch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;14.  Do you think good teachers should make more than poor teachers?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is yet another question loaded with presuppositions that just avoids what Warren wants to ask: Should there be merit pay instituted for teachers based on test scores?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teachers are held to professional standards, yet treated like McDonald's line workers.  In what other industries must there be constant education and recertification?  Professional engineers, lawyers, etc.  Now substitute any of those for "teachers" in the above question.  See how meaningless it is?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once teachers are paid commensurate with their education level and work responsibilities, then we can discuss merit pay.  Very few teachers actually take a summer vacation; most use the summer for classes, planning for the next year, or otherwise improving their own professionalism.  Do you really believe that educating children is one of the most important roles in society today?  Then you have to prove it by paying the people who do the job in accordance with their importance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once that is established, why not reward teachers who do exceptionally well?  Instead of punishing teachers whose test scores are below average, how about figuring out what the problem is and giving them help?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;15.  Define “rich.”  Give me a number.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There used to be a clear distinction between the rich and the poor.  Now there is a vast middle class and the wealth distinctions are faded.  I would define the rich as those in the top 20% of earners in an economy.  I don't know what income level that is, but I do know that I'm not anywhere near it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;16.  When our right to privacy and our right to national security collide, how do you decide what takes precedent? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was also asked of Senator McCain only.  Let me put it simply: those who would sacrifice individual rights for national security deserve neither.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-7873073670717895246?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7873073670717895246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-iv.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/7873073670717895246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/7873073670717895246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-iv.html' title='Questions for Americans, Part IV'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-143672945586879842</id><published>2008-08-19T14:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T14:00:01.999-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions for Americans, Part III</title><content type='html'>(Parts &lt;a href="http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-i.html"&gt;1&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-ii.html"&gt;2&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10.  Do we still need funding for [stem cell] research?  Would you still support that for embryo stem cells?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.  Stem cells have been shown to have many therapeutic and research potentials and the research should absolutely continue and grow.  Embryonic stem cells have never been and will never be made from babies that are aborted for the purpose of harvesting stem cells.  There are plenty of sources of stem cell lines that don't even include fetuses that have started developing within a woman's body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;11.  Does evil exist and if it does do we ignore it, do we negotiate with it, do we contain it or do we defeat it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um, like some evil force that takes human shape to try to destroy the world?  No, wait, that was on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Buffy&lt;/span&gt; and all sorts of other fantasy media.  This question is so loaded with presuppositions it basically collapses under its own weight.  Let me reframe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When people do evil things, do we ignore them, negotiate with them, contain them, or defeat them?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There, that makes sense.  People make choices, and people often make choices that harm others.  Can we ignore them?  Sometimes, if the harm isn't great, it is best to let the harmed party address it.  Do we negotiate with it?  Sometimes people aren't aware that their choices are harming others and simple negotiation can solve the problem.  Do we contain it?  If necessary.  That's what jails are for.  Do we defeat it?  If possible, through education, social action, and social pressure.  The best way to defeat bad choices is to prevent them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;12.  Which existing Supreme Court justice would you not have nominated?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chief Justice Robert is an accomplished jurist, for sure, but in my opinion he is too young and too beholden to the administration to be taken completely seriously at this point.  He is certainly a political appointee who got the job because he agreed with the current administration on every point.  His opinions since taking the post have shown that he is not as free from the political biases as a Supreme Court justice should be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-143672945586879842?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/143672945586879842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-iii.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/143672945586879842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/143672945586879842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-iii.html' title='Questions for Americans, Part III'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-8841379840372894183</id><published>2008-08-19T04:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T04:26:51.507-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My first hurricane</title><content type='html'>So I was going to get all excited about my first experience with tropical weather system.  There would be a series of daily posts tracking the path of &lt;strike&gt;tropical storm&lt;/strike&gt; &lt;strike&gt;hurricane&lt;/strike&gt; tropical storm Fay and up-to-the-minute reports of how much rain we were getting and how severe the weather was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fay just couldn't get it together.  That's right, Fay.  I'm calling you out.  You weak-willed bunch of clouds.  What are you?  Afraid of little old me?  Can't even get the minimum wind speed or organization to be considered even a category one hurricane.  Sheesh.  Oh, and now you're going to &lt;a href="http://www.wunderground.com/tropical/tracking/at200806_5day.html#a_topad"&gt;head away from here&lt;/a&gt;? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You, Fay, totally ruin the street cred of tropical weather systems everywhere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-8841379840372894183?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8841379840372894183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-first-hurricane.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/8841379840372894183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/8841379840372894183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-first-hurricane.html' title='My first hurricane'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-2688232007325827003</id><published>2008-08-18T14:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T14:00:01.204-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions for Americans, Part II</title><content type='html'>(Part &lt;a href="http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-i.html"&gt;1&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5.  What's the most gut wrenching decision you've ever had to make and how did you process that, come to that decision?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously this was moving away to South Carolina last month.  The decision was a long one, starting back in the spring when I started looking out-of-state "just in case" I couldn't find a job locally.  As the weeks went on, and I interviewed here and in Michigan, it became increasingly clear that I was going to have to move.  I had no other options left aside from moving back in with my parents and living off of their largesse.  I've done that twice already for health reasons, and they have helped me so much it was fundamentally unfair of me to impose that on them again.  The decision was fraught with tears and waffling, excitement and fear, but it has been made, and followed through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6.  What does [faith in Jesus Christ] mean to you?  What does it mean to you to trust in Christ and what does it mean on a daily basis?  I mean, what does that really look like?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a side note, Warren tried to play this question off as &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;well, we got more than 2000 question suggestions from our audience and I had to pick one to ask&lt;/span&gt;, implying that if it were up to him he wouldn't have asked.  I call BS.  The reason for this forum was to elucidate which candidate was the "christian" one and which wasn't.  Asking this question was pure spectacle, pandering to the sheep who hang on his every word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faith in Jesus Christ should be a positive emotional experience for people.  It should make people feel better about themselves (i.e., that they are saved) and work for the betterment of others (cf. the sermon on the mount).  It may include acts as benign as daily prayer, weekly church gatherings, and Bible study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to the &lt;a href="http://www.beyondexgay.com/"&gt;reparative therapy&lt;/a&gt; counselor I had in college, I learned that I do not need to rely on some imaginary force to realize my own worth.  I don't need an angry sky-father threatening me with eternal torture to make me do good things for myself and those around me.  I don't need to profess faith in and unswerving loyalty to any human to secure any place in Valhalla, Nirvana or heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my life, I make choices based on what I see, what I can verify, and what provides actual help to those around me.  If someone is emotionally hurt, which is more helpful: to sit and listen to them or to tell them you'll pray for them then walk away?  I'm not saying those two things are mutually exclusive.  Many people do pray for them AND sit and listen, and those are the people who are acting most like Jesus.  What I'm saying is that I will do what actually helps and ignore what has no basis in reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7.  At what point does a baby get human rights?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question begs its own answer: when it is a baby!  Until it's born, it is a fetus.  Does that mean that fetuses can't be protected?  Of course not, but they get their protection and rights through the rights of the mothers.  It makes no sense to give individual rights to things that can't survive outside their mothers' bodies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If one tries to give rights at conception, one would have to realize that as many as 40% of fertilized eggs never implant and a certain percentage spontaneously abort shortly after implantation, before the mother has even felt any effects and before any pregnancy test can detect it.  Many other pregnancies spontaneously abort because there is some defect in the fetus that would make it unable to survive to term or outside the womb.  Who then gets charged with the deaths?  Does the government take entire control of the mother while she's pregnant to make sure she's doing everything right, or should they charge a mother with manslaughter or homicide if there is a miscarriage?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this was the point of the question: governmental control of a woman's body.  A body of power remains in power by suppressing everyone who isn't in power.  A patriarchy works by oppressing women, children, and everyone outside their group.  If we believe that humans have rights, we must give women control over their own bodies, and that includes what is inside their bodies.  To address the unasked question: Abortion rights must be preserved.  Comprehensive sexual education must be provided to every person so that appropriate and healthy choices can be made.  It's no coincidence that unintended pregnancies occur most often among the poor (who can't afford contraceptive services) and the undereducated (who don't know enough about how to take control of their own reproduction).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;8.  How do you define marriage?  Would you support a Constitutional Amendment with that definition?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are two types of marriage, and most people who get married participate in both without realizing it.  There is religious/spiritual marriage, generally blessed by a religious leader within the constraints of a certain religion.  In these marriages, the religion can define who is elegible to get married and what circumstances lead to marriage (or dissolve the marriage).  Most religions use marriage in a bit of circular logic: marriages are legimating acts for sex, and generally procreation, and any marriage that isn't consummated by having sex aren't true marriages.  Some christian sects, like the Roman Catholics, actually define consummation in fairly graphic and specific detail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other type of marriage is one based on secular, civil laws.  These are regulated by the state and legitimate property and inheritance.  It's only been very recently that "love" has been the defining characteristic of a marriage.  Since in civil marriage procreation has no sway, the genders of those engaging in this legal partnership should not matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another unasked question: should gays and lesbians get married?  Yes.  It is the height of hypocrisy to say that gays and lesbians should get all the equal rights of marriage, but not be able to marry.  We went through a period of similar laws based on a false premise of "separate but equal."  It is also highly hypocritical to deny the existence of lesbians and gays, attempt to legislate that sex is only right in the bounds of a marriage, then deny marriage to a substantial portion of the population.  Since the sex-based definition of marriage is religious, denying marriage rights based on sex illegally (in my opinion) imposes the views of a religion on the population as a whole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Constitutional amendment has never been used but once to deny rights, and that was removed by another amendment in short time.  Amendments grant rights and clarify rights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;9.  Was the Supreme Court of California wrong? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was asked of Senator McCain only.  It refers either to the decision to grant same-sex couples the right to marry in the state, or the decision to reword the proposed amendment to reflect that it would remove existing marriage rights.  Whatever the meaning of the question, I think the court was exactly right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-2688232007325827003?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2688232007325827003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-ii.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/2688232007325827003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/2688232007325827003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-ii.html' title='Questions for Americans, Part II'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-6165707949034855453</id><published>2008-08-17T14:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T14:00:01.377-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions for Americans, Part I</title><content type='html'>By my count, and from the &lt;a href="http://www.rickwarrennews.com/transcript/"&gt;unofficial transcript&lt;/a&gt;, I found 24 questions (two of which were asked only of Senator McCain since he answers were much shorter than Senator Obama's and best-selling author Warren had extra time).  That's too much for one post, so I'm going to break it up a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I preserved the original wording, and where the wording was different between Obama and McCain, I kept the wording when Obama was asked.  The wording differences never changed the essential meaning of the question.  So any weirdness with construction of the questions are purely from Warren's mouth.  I'm not going to mock how he asked the questions, except the ones that have no meaning, because I know that recording a word-by-word transcript often gives results that look horrible on paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have the benefit of being able to think about what I say and edit what I put down here.  in reading the transcript, I tried to skip over the candidates' answers, but do know basically how each responded.  I'll try not to let that influence my answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. How are you doing?&lt;/span&gt;  (This was asked of both candidates, so I'm including it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm doing fine.  A bit concerned about not having all my tools for the first day of school, but otherwise OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. Who are the three wisest people you know in your life and who are you going to rely on heavily in your administration?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both parts of this question have the same answer, as I'm pretty sure Warren intended it.  My parents are probably the wisest people in my life.  I regularly turn to them for advide.  myB also makes my top three.  I don't always agree with him, but can count on him to give me a reasoned and logical reading of any situation and counter my frequent bursts of emotionality.  For the third spot, I'd have to put the collective wisdom of my close OCP friends.  The wisdom of a group often surpasses the wisdom of any individual in that group, and I'm grateful for advice I've recieved from all of them and will continue to seek their advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3.  What would be the greatest moral failure of your life and what would be the greatest moral failure of America?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my own life, my greatest moral failure would be denying who I was for so many years and refusing to speak up for those who were being oppressed out of fear that I would be targeted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;America's greatest moral failure is confusing "what's good for those in power" with "what's good for everyone."  Economic and social policies, both domestically and around the world, are designed to secure and protect the power of the powerful.  Corporate lobbyists, through their money, have a strong voice and can convince the American government that what has worked for corporations will work everywhere.  This problem transcends political parties and has been a problem since the birth of the country.  What I find most frustrating is that we have, in recent decades, had many studies and proposals that take into account the differences in needs of the dispossessed, and the American government and people ignore it.  Yes, I implicate the people as well as the government; throwing money at nameless charity may assuage some guilt but rarely solves any actual problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4.  What's the most significant position you held ten years ago that you no longer hold today, that you flipped on, you changed on because you actually see it differently?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The importance, utility, and veracity of religion.  Discuss.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-6165707949034855453?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6165707949034855453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/6165707949034855453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/6165707949034855453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/questions-for-americans-part-i.html' title='Questions for Americans, Part I'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-860277955392283322</id><published>2008-08-16T23:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T23:14:15.038-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Avoidance tactics</title><content type='html'>So, in order to not sit yelling at my TV, I completely ignored the Saddleback Church "debate" on Saturday.  And I'm not going to use the blog to spew about Rick Warren (the self-aggrandizing hypocrite) or the event he came up with (what? are they running for Pope?), I'm going to get a list of the questions he asked both candidates and answer them myself in my next post.  This might be a good exercise; I really don't know what all the questions are.  myB watched and told me the highlights, but if those questions are so important for the candidates, I think it might be good for all Americans to consider their own responses and compare them to the candidates' responses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said, I didn't watch, so I don't know their responses to all the questions, just what myB told me and what I've seen in skimming articles looking for a list of the questions.  I won't be commenting on Senator Obama's or Senator McCain's responses in this post.  Feel free to put your own responses to the questions in the comments in the next post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-860277955392283322?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/860277955392283322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/avoidance-tactics.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/860277955392283322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/860277955392283322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/avoidance-tactics.html' title='Avoidance tactics'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-1566224196968233653</id><published>2008-08-15T14:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T14:00:02.210-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Food, Glorious Southern Food</title><content type='html'>It's a bit difficult to make me feel stupid, yet the last two days I've had meals that just boggle my mind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One might think that American food is American food, but there are some pretty distinct differences that have caused me to ask whoever is standing next to me, "Sorry if this makes me sound stupid, but what is that?"  Do you know how difficult it is to ask that question without sounding offended or horrified by what I see?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, my dietary restrictions make it necessary that I know what is in everything I eat, so I'm used to asking in a restaurant, "Pardon me, but does your version of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;rice pilaf&lt;/span&gt; contain &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;corn&lt;/span&gt;?"  But asking what a food item is simply because I can't figure it out is kind of new territory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately the main courses were easy enough: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;baked chicken&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fried chicken&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;country-fried pork&lt;/span&gt;.  Yeah, every meal has been served with fried chicken and it is glorious.  But here's a partial list of what I couldn't identify:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Chicken dumplings:&lt;/span&gt; It seems in the south the word "dumpling" is a bit more flexible, in this case referring to flat noodle-like additions to the stew portion.  myB tells me it's also often referred to as "chicken slick."  I don't even want to consider.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Green beans:&lt;/span&gt; Pronounced with heavy emphasis on the first word.  I've seen green beans cooked before.  But this was unlike any green beans I'd ever seen.  (brilliantine, clean, careen, e'en, glean, jean, lean, mean, queen, tureen, wean; wanted to get that vowel sound out of my system)  They appeared to have diameters at least twice what I ever see, and were cut into about one-inch pieces, and were quite gray with no sauce on them.  Nobody batted an eye and took lots, so I assume this was normal.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fat back:&lt;/span&gt; Not just a concern in brassiere-purchasing any more!  This is actually a food item.  Do you really want to know?  Fine.  It's essentially bacon made from pig skin and the layer of fat just under the skin.  Looks kind of like french fries if you don't focus; you can tell what side was the skin if you do focus.  I'm told it tastes like bacon.  I will never know first-hand.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Collard greens:&lt;/span&gt; A very stereotyped southern dish.  I'd heard of them but never actually seen them.  They look deceptively like cooked chopped spinach, but were being served in a huge pan and weren't mushy like spinach gets after about 14 seconds.  Not offensive or scary in any way, I just avoided them in case.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fried squash:&lt;/span&gt; These looked like little fried cakes made of bread crumbs and some vegetable.  It seems you make them by slicing a squash, dip and bread it, then deep fry it.  Skin and seeds, held together by a little fiber-y pulp and oil-crisped bread crumbs and egg wash.  Heck, throw a bit of jalapeño in there and I'll have everything I can't eat!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Cobbler was also served with everything, both peach and apple.  And, of course, sweet tea, which I love just fine.  I'm lucking out that I can always pull my I'm-just-a-dumb-yankee-please-explain-how-civilized-life-works act when I need something.  And they are all so very helpful.  Comes from good breeding, right, myB?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-1566224196968233653?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1566224196968233653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/food-glorious-southern-food.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/1566224196968233653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/1566224196968233653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/food-glorious-southern-food.html' title='Food, Glorious Southern Food'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-6285379350081717334</id><published>2008-08-14T14:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T14:00:00.887-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Two observations</title><content type='html'>Observation 1:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It appears to be universal that when one encounters a large truck bearing multiple patriotic and religious displays, along with a handicapped license plate, one can be reasonably certain the word "handicapped" refers at least in part to the driver's mental capacity and ability to drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Observation 2:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was enjoying a refreshing glass of ice water from my Brita(R)-filtered water pitcher to quench that nagging thirst that only the crisp taste of Brita(R)-filtered water can quench (free swag?  Please?  Email for where to send my stuff!), I noticed something shocking:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3025/2760554207_43f406511c.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3025/2760554207_43f406511c.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, not that I am an extraordinarily talented facial actor, or that my chair is pink (shut it, it was free), or that my hair has preternatural spikiness, but rather that China modeled their &lt;a href="http://en.beijing2008.cn/46/39/WaterCube.shtml"&gt;&lt;strike&gt;water cube thingy&lt;/strike&gt; National Aquatics Center&lt;/a&gt; on my &lt;strike&gt;old&lt;/strike&gt; trusty plastic Wal-Mart(R) tumblers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3196/2761399898_9fcd01d9e4.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3196/2761399898_9fcd01d9e4.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As always, click to embiggen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-6285379350081717334?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6285379350081717334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/two-observations.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/6285379350081717334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/6285379350081717334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/two-observations.html' title='Two observations'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-4591489704472701266</id><published>2008-08-13T14:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T14:00:00.926-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Around Town and To School</title><content type='html'>Key difference between Michigan and South Carolina: directions that roads run.  In Michigan, direction-challenged people like me have a built-in safety feature: if I miss a road, I simply take the next one, do a bit of a loop, and end up where I wanted to go anyway.  In South Carolina (and North Carolina, for that matter), roads are laid with no respect to compass, landmark, or settlement.  Miss a turn?  Pull into the next driveway immediately and turn back.  Roads also rarely meet at right angles, and few keep their same names for more than a couple miles. Puts one in the mind of spaghetti thrown up on a piece of paper.  "Oh, look, this big piece just happens to pass through that city.  Hallelujah!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately, just up the road from me (I will still refer to cardinal directions, thank you very much), north on the highway that runs by my apartment, is a complex with a McDonalds, a decent &lt;a href="http://magnusjoe.com/"&gt;coffee shop&lt;/a&gt; with free wireless Internet, a restaurant called ThaiCoon, which makes me wonder if it's a racist way to say they serve Asian-soul fusion food, and the Publix grocery store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3021/2755771360_69a2902e2f.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3021/2755771360_69a2902e2f.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Coming out of the grocery store, I always think there are these dark clouds in the eastern sky, but no, it's just Paris Mountain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3263/2754940347_265e0a8385.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3263/2754940347_265e0a8385.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thoughtful of them to put those radio towers right up there on top so we flat-landers would be able to recognize the mountain, no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took a trip up to my school, traveling what are labeled as state highways on the map, but remind me more of Copas Road fifteen years ago, but only the fun parts and lots of hills as well as curves.  You know what I mean.  At least the right ones of you do.  Again with the name changes (I stay on the same road but it goes through five names in the twenty minutes I spend on it).  Across a body of water they call a lake but is really a backed-up river, by some clay pits, and we arrive at school!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3191/2758933524_aaaa2cae95.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3191/2758933524_aaaa2cae95.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am blocking out the name of my school on this site, even though a little digging could easily turn up where I work, just to be professional.  I braved the giant Nemo in the window behind me for this well-framed shot by my mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After meeting with the administration, I got my course assignments, handbook with map (look, right angles do exist down here!), mascot tiger, and some of my textbooks and ancillary materials for first semester.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3144/2754953059_c26c96ac94.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3144/2754953059_c26c96ac94.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3152/2754951999_a011f26c9b.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3152/2754951999_a011f26c9b.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, my big moment, my classroom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3006/2754947367_6ddeebd6ca.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3006/2754947367_6ddeebd6ca.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3204/2754948567_6e535c8c4b.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3204/2754948567_6e535c8c4b.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3108/2754949655_58018c5917.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3108/2754949655_58018c5917.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See that white thing bolted to the wall with the orange doo-hickey on the arm above it?  It's called a &lt;a href="http://www.prometheanworld.com/us/"&gt;Promethean Board&lt;/a&gt;.  Those of you who are teachers may recognize its less-advanced cousin the SmartBoard.  Not only does it project what is on the computer screen onto the boaed, it turns the board into a touch-sensitive device.  That means to drag something across the screen, just drag it on the board with your finger.  Want to write a note on the board?  There's a special pen that writes on whatever is on the screen with digital ink, giving you the option of saving or printing exactly what the board looks like.  And it's built tough for kids to use.  Can you tell I'm excited?  I'm the only new science teacher with one.  Hooray for me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-4591489704472701266?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4591489704472701266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/around-town-and-to-school.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/4591489704472701266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/4591489704472701266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/around-town-and-to-school.html' title='Around Town and To School'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-4965334892012686070</id><published>2008-08-12T14:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T14:00:01.438-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The New Place</title><content type='html'>So after 14 hours of driving, we finally arrived at my apartment complex. It's near a university, a golf club, and a state park (the mountain namesake of the park looms up over the apartments), and about a half hour from school. Yeah, it's a bit far away, but this is a two-bedroom, 1.5 bath, two story townhouse-style apartment. Very nice, and very affordable. Besides, all of the apartment complexes I found online were about the same distance from school, five or take five minutes. But with gas at $3.49 (cash), it's a bit more affordable!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here is the part of the complex.  Mine is the third door from the left.  And I get both floors!  And that is my car and my U-Haul out front.  U-Haul made me pay for five days, so we took two days to unload it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3290/2754930603_9e0379461c.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3290/2754930603_9e0379461c.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A close-up of my undecorated door.  I need something to put there on the outside.  I can't have any signs in the windows, but I can have a small, tasteful decoration on the door.  Any suggestions?  (Let's keep it family-friendly and remember that I am in the wrinkled-leathery spine of the bible belt.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3044/2755768728_c1d104df08.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3044/2755768728_c1d104df08.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of two (count 'em, two!) pools available for residents.  The one nearest to me is smaller and closes at 5:00, but this one is open until 10:00.  Lots of people enjoying it every time I go by.  They also have dumpsters for residents and three laundry facilities, which have all worked really well.  So far.  I'm sure something will go wrong at some point.  You know, someone is washing their grits-stained coveralls and it jams up the machine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3259/2754937727_99c0a7c2aa.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3259/2754937727_99c0a7c2aa.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;myB and I found this great family restaurant called Gene's between my place and downtown.  For $3.99 we each got two eggs, choice of meat, a huge helping of grits, and unlimited coffee.  Yummy.  There are even &lt;strike&gt;caricatures&lt;/strike&gt; pastel portraits of Gene's family members, larger that life, on the back wall along with newspaper clippings from decades ago that probably meant something to someone at some point.  myB said he knew it was quality because there was an old black woman in the kitchen making biscuits.  All in all, a great experience and highly recommended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3100/2754931665_e78fee4fd8.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3100/2754931665_e78fee4fd8.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kasia helped with the unpacking by making sure the bed linens didn't escape the closet.  I swear the closet was closed when I left...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3018/2755778850_3c27df31cf.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3018/2755778850_3c27df31cf.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-4965334892012686070?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4965334892012686070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-place.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/4965334892012686070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/4965334892012686070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-place.html' title='The New Place'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-349550806735516652</id><published>2008-08-12T06:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T06:48:01.075-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, Kwame</title><content type='html'>Oh, oh, oh, &lt;a href="http://www.wlns.com/global/story.asp?s=8826003"&gt;Kwame&lt;/a&gt;.  As soon as I tell anyone down here that I'm from Michigan, inevitably their first questions include, "Are you from Detroit?" and "Did you go to that school that Appalachian State beat last year?" and "What is going on with that mayor?"  Then I have to tell them.  Sure I get a little joy out of it, but it's still pretty embarrassing that all anyone knows Michigan for these days is Kwame's multiple felonies (alleged) and the death of its auto industry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can someone in Michigan do something good that gets picked up by the national media?  Please?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-349550806735516652?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/349550806735516652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/oh-kwame.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/349550806735516652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/349550806735516652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/oh-kwame.html' title='Oh, Kwame'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-6107911458435217832</id><published>2008-08-11T14:07:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T22:32:19.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Packing up and moving out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3053/2755821274_270f2b48a5.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3053/2755821274_270f2b48a5.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After nearly two years in the house on Oakwood, actually one day short of two years, it was time to pack up and move 740 miles south.  Fortunately I have great family and friends.  With my schoolwork all due right around the time I moved, I spent a lot of time sitting and typing while everyone else packed and cleaned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, yes, I did feel guilty &lt;a href="http://funnybusiness.typepad.com/funnybusiness/2005/06/the_comma_code.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;comma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///Users/joelperkin/Pictures/iPhoto%20Library/2008/07/30/DSC00772.JPG" alt="" /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3074/2755832030_29d4733a4f.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3074/2755832030_29d4733a4f.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Early the next morning we were off: me driving the huge U-Haul towing my car behind with myB navigating, my parents following with Kasia.  Poor girl.  She cried the whole way down and she usually loves riding in the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you can't see, but my car is packed with all my electronic equipment, I figured the soft seats were a better cushion than being in the back of the U-Haul, and then we covered them with all my hanging clothes and a couple light-colored blankets to keep it a bit cooler.  We wasted no space whatsoever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a side note, do you know expensive U-Hauls are?  I had to pay $1400 up front, and that didn't include any extra insurance or gas.  Thank goodness I didn't need the insurance, but I spent well over $500 in gas.  Yikes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3071/2755829094_03f35aebbf.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3071/2755829094_03f35aebbf.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We spent the night in Lexington, thanks to my parents.  Kas slept with myB and I, and seemed much more well-adjusted then.  This, of course, after spending hours prowling around the hotel room getting into every corner and on top of every horizontal surface.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning after a quick breakfast we were off again, east to North Carolina then south to Greenville.  This is what Google maps can't tell you: driving in mountains sucks and is scary as hell, espeically when driving an oversized moving van towing a car in heavy traffic.  Oh, yes, I drove I-40 across the TN/NC border.  I think the steering wheel still has the imprints of my fingers in it.  myB was very encouraging, even pretending for my sake that there weren't humongously tall walls of granite on both sides of us that were constantly waving and leaning over the road, ready to crush us at any second, should the whimsy strike them.  I'm sure they might be beautiful, from a distance, when they are in a good mood, but no thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3017/2755000325_3df7def814.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3017/2755000325_3df7def814.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We got into South Carolina and made it to the apartment complex about half an hour before they closed for the day, I got my apartment, and we moved me in, but that's another post!  (There is a sign in this last pic that says "Welcome to South Carolina", but it is extremely difficult to get pictures of signs like that at 60 mph.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-6107911458435217832?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6107911458435217832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/packing-up-and-moving-out.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/6107911458435217832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/6107911458435217832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/packing-up-and-moving-out.html' title='Packing up and moving out'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35091180.post-6159707980543135737</id><published>2008-08-10T23:38:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T23:47:40.273-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Apologies and Promises</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://brownsharpie.courtneygibbons.org/wp-content/comics/2008/01/apology-r.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SJ_EJGd2zWI/AAAAAAAAAHU/u-yusSrmoHY/s200/apology-r.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233116952661511522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually I don't put much stock in either of these things, but let's give it a go.  The last time I tried to get this blog going, I had just lost my job and got overwhelmed finding ways to keep myself solvent, meaning I had very little time.  Now that I am at a definite break in the flow of things in my life, I think this will be a good time to resurrect this.  It'll be an easy way to stay in touch with my wives and friends back home and vent a bit when necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been here over a week now, but don't worry, I'll get all caught up with the blog posting, including pictures.  Please feel free to write me in the comments or on Facebook or to my email address.  I want to know what's going on in your lives, too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35091180-6159707980543135737?l=myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6159707980543135737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/apologies-and-promises.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/6159707980543135737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35091180/posts/default/6159707980543135737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myowossocalledlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/apologies-and-promises.html' title='Apologies and Promises'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12281197568640350498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/760/192/1600/1054144.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MDKJGNJGiNA/SJ_EJGd2zWI/AAAAAAAAAHU/u-yusSrmoHY/s72-c/apology-r.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
