Culture Spot

Bryn Terfel - Tosca - Va, Tosca (Te Deum). Tosca makes him dimenticare his Deo.

It must have been that goofy laugh from Kiss of Death, or his lovely teeth, and the way he kept reaching for the translator earphones between speeches in Judgement at Nuremburg, or how he kept apologizing to Sidney Poitier between takes on No Way Out because his character shouted racial slurs, or how you can watch him lipread the other actors in Rollercoaster so he'd know when to speak his lines without screwing up, or seeing him in all those westerns even though he hated guns, and how last Christmas we watched Death of a Gunfighter because he was in it even though it was a bad, bad, bad, bad movie, or watching him chase Palance down in Panic in the Streets shouting "YOU HAVE THE PLAGUE!", but mostly I think it's in the way he played Harry Fabian in Night and the City so that it wrenches your heart to see him lose that innocence, because he really thought he knew what he was doing.

But Pickup on South Street ... that's the one I can watch over and over and over and over and over, because he was the best.

Thank you, Mr. Widmark.

Lost Weekend

Not that I watched "Lost" or caught up on the new season or anything of importance. I'm just sayin'.

Took some books back to the Duck Store to get my (fair share of abuse) usual $10 for each $130 that I spend there, and walked away about 20 lbs lighter with $84 in my pocket. But I kept the Astronomy book back. She was only giving me $30 for it! No deal. I'd rather be a nerd and keep it for reference then lower its value that way. I wasn't as attached to the book on television -- kind of dry for such a magnificent art form.

Spent the dough at Value Village and somewhere else ... I can't remember. But I got 4 nice sweaters and I think some food for the week. Oh and some booze for a party Saturday where I behaved like a freshman and slugged a few too many, but I stuck with Vodka and that made all the difference. I was still a little puny yesterday, but managed some laundry and some proper Easter God-film watching. Jeffrey Hunter a Jesus in "King of Kings" ... dude ... Christopher Pike died for us all, friends, and Rip Torn led him there. Good ol' Rip. Two minutes of him as Judas and we were compelled to put in "Men in Black".

Work all week and then school next week. I'm too old for this. 4 more months until July. No. Sleep. Til Vegas!

I shall list each excuse clearly and succinctly

So I hopped right on www.barackobama.com as soon as the visit to Eugene was announced. I was there RIGHT THERE and I put in the RSVP and then saw ... "this does not guarantee entrance" and the balloon up and deflated. No tickets. It's first come, first seated.

Friends, I'm all for Barack. I'm waiting only for the coffee mugs to be added to the the Bobama store before I place my order, because I want everything at once, and the water bottle isn't going to cut it. I want real stoneware before I start harassing others to vote like me. VOTE LIKE ME. I've got a brand new bumper on Rudy just waiting for the sticker (did I get rear-ended because of Kerry? .... .... this is going to take some investigation).

But, you know, if Econ has taught me nothing else, it's taught me how to do a cost-benefit analysis.

Cost:

• riding to school in the cold (it's 42 now) and coming back at midnight (when it's supposed to drop to 31 degrees)
• jockeying for position among Eugene's finest, most of whom don't cotton to washin'
• and ending up thrust into the EMU with the overflow anyway because I didn't get off work until 5:00 and people were lining up at Mac Court as early as 2:00
  
• leaving the cousin/roommate home with a bad case of trotskys (I told him we shouldn't have eaten at that Taco Bell)

Benefit:

• yeah, okay, sure, it would be great to say "I saw the President when..."

The cost -- including opportunity cost -- is just too high. Students were already crowding the doors before I'd even had a lunch break at work. So I picked up some pretzels and Squirt for the cousin/roommate and we watched a pretty weak episode of Taggart (I know, weird, but they can't all be great), and now I'm going to bed to sleep the sleep of the wimpy. I had a chance to see the President when ... and I didn't go.

This is my story. This is my song.

The End is Nigh

Friends, I know I may say this every time, but this time I really mean it. This was the hardest term of my entire college career so far -- although, honestly, what could beat it? The cat died, there was the run-in with the hobo, there was Economics, and today I had to come up with the names of 2 Bollywood directors and their films, and I couldn't do it. But it's over and done and the first grade came in and it's a P for Pass in Econ so I'm DONE with that shite ... until the next Econ class, since Journalism majors have to take 8 credits ... Whatever n' junk. I'm done.

I'm going to miss astronomy though. That was fun stuff.

Release the hounds, it's time for some vodka.

Or sleep.

Basically, I was just gonna say...

That's how most of my fellow students begin each sentence. They usually end with "or whatever" like that will absolve them from any responsibility in the sentence. ("Basically, I was just gonna say that the Earth revolves around the Sun, or whatever.")

Yes, I should be studying. Yes, the Economics final was today -- had a freakout at the start (and it was on a cost table, the only thing in the class I can really do confidently and it still freaked me out), so I skipped to the next section, maintained, and was able to return and balance out. I think I'll pass with a D. If I have to take it (or something like it) again, at least now I'll know how to figure the elasticity.

Basically, I was just gonna say, I know I should be studying for the film and astronomy finals, but I want it on the record that the Ashera designer cats really freak me out. I know, they're old news, but it's the first time they were Yahoo news, so it's the first I've seen of them, or whatever.


Nice use of the frilly model in the background to give a light, feminine, somewhat Euro touch to the photo. "Ees theese your veeceeous jungle cat? Oooh la la, may I geev heem a petteeng?"

Finals Week.

That is all.

Densha Otoko (Train Man)

We watched this in film class today and I cried like a baby. Nerd love is sweet.

Yreka

While having my yogurt and coffee (Not-Quite-But-Almost South Beach Diet) lunch today I overheard a conversation that suddenly made everything clear.

Boy 1: So what are you going to do after graduation?
Boy 2: I don't know. My parents just keep saying "Get a degree. Get a degree." But I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it.
Boy 1: Yeah, most companies just want to see if you have one when they hire. They don't care what it's for.
Boy 2: That's what I figure. Maybe I'll get a teaching credential or something. I don't know. What are you going to do?
Boy 1: I'm going to go work for the [previously mentioned Christian] youth group.
Boy 2: Cool.

So, I guess I shouldn't be worried about having to compete with these kids for jobs. Most of them are just filling time to get the degree paper, so competition should be minimal. Not that I'm counting on that, I'm just sayin' ... the less fish to fight and all ... Maybe this will all work out okay.

And, not to jinx it, but, pssst, I get it. Economics. I think I'm beginning to get it. Monopolies ... that's where the money's at. You need to monopolize. I'm still working on the equation flash cards, since I need to get an A to pass ... or at least to keep my C (based on the curve) average. Black holes, neutron stars and supernovae -- why are those so much easier to understand than supply and demand? Go figure.

Pudon yer dancin' shoes, bisches!

I gotta say, I kinda missed seeing the fighting French couple in this week's Horrible People.

But it still made tea come out my nose.

Hey, nice Marmot
Dude, the rain gear from the cousin/roommate is the Christmas gift that keeps on giving. It was rainy and I had a vague meegraine, so I almost took the bus home from school today, but rode it and was rewarded with the smell of flowers blooming and wet pollen in the trees. The Marmot jacket and Hammer pants (can't touch this) ... how did I live without you for so long? PS: It's weird how I can be dressed like a clown (powder blue jacket, black Babu pants, turquoise shoes on a red bike) and still have cars not see me as they turn right ... fecking cosmic justice, man. I'll never get my karma back.

Some Weird Territory

Last night I had a dream where Cat was still alive, and it made me miss her all over again ... but Veda was sleeping next to me in bed, so when I woke up I felt guilty about still having affection for Cat.

In the same dream a massage therapist (it's a long story) was telling me that trans fats were good and it was a myth that they were the bad fat, because they transfer the nutrients to the places your body needs them most. The fat is just a catalyst. A helper-outer. A little sugar to make the medicine go down.

I know it's because I was eating those fecking Girl Scout cookies. Those little drug dealers were selling them on campus yesterday and I was only going to buy one box, but they were having trouble making change, so I bought two (I also felt bad because in greeting I said "You guys are so bad" and none of them got the joke ... hmpf ... not even the mom. We used to have a lot more laughs when I was a Girl Scout ...).

My Big Fat College Book Deal

So I've come up with my pitch ... or my title without the pitch:

Thank You For Spiking The Curve: Adventures of a 40 Year-Old Undergrad

I think of it as a how-to book, as in how not to blow your retirement on your kid's college education. Among the quotable gems (just from this week alone):

"I haven't cracked a book since I started school and I'm already a Sophmore." Followed by "I take all of my classes pass/no pass, but I haven't passed one yet except for the gym ones."

Related
"I just can't get up the enthusiasm to go into Pool class. It's too late in the day to interest me." (yeah, we have a class on shooting pool. We also have bowling, trampoline and fly fishing. His companion in this conversation is taking badminton next term.)

"That was my favorite film because it was the shortest. If the teacher"(sic)"had been there we'd have had a lecture, which would have sucked."

Plus other tidbits from faculty friends. Too bad it's all real or I'd probably have a publisher already. Maybe if I did it as a graphic memoir ... except I can't drawr drawrings.

Speaking of, and raking up, sent the cousin (sister of the cousin/roommate) the link to the New York Times article where Whiteaker is described as the ghetto. She had no idea, and now has suitable shame. She doesn't know "Peggy" personally, but is aware of the pit bulls she used to raise (apparently for "the Bloods").

Eugene, Eugene, it's a wonderful town. Fairmount is up and Whiteaker's down -- Eugene, EUGENE! It's a wonderful town!

You con man conning me with your con

This whole Margaret B. Jones/Margaret Seltzer situation is a crack up.

I don't know if it's the half-assed fact checking done by Riverside Books ('I've been talking to her on the phone and getting e-mails from her for three years and her story never has changed,' Ms. McGrath said."), or the way Whiteaker was described as the "ghetto" of Eugene in the NY Times Feb 28th article (sugar, if that's the ghetto, then where the ffff do I live?), or just the whole white girl/black story sold to gullible whitey and how that's both funny and sad.

This is the best comment so far, from Kevin Allman's really great blog series on the subject:
Were any actual black people involved in the publication of this book?

I highly recommend reading the rest of his commentary here.

So where's my book deal? Word.

Thank you THANK YOU Reverend Dick. I can't wait for episode 5

Is there a doctor in the house?

Since we've been here almost a year, we decided maybe it was time to Rug Doctor the living room. There were strange smells that would seep up every time it rained and colors in the carpet that could have been anything from bike grease to bongwater to God only knows -- seeing as how the previous tenants would often pee on the front lawn and didn't have regular trash pickup. Notwithstanding the fact that drug dealers and hillbillies still live across the street, we may actually stay here now.

The water that was sucked up was (according to cousin/roommate) purple in color and full of grit ... eeeuw ....

Before

After

After I calmed a bit and stopped yelling at Geico (who also tried to tell me bike law, refuting what I was reading off of the Oregon DOT website, that a bike in motion is a vehicle and being in a crosswalk doesn't automatically make you a pedestrian because ped means WALK), I went to school yesterday and was almost hit twice on the way home by people turning their cars into me.

Which brings home what really irritates me about this incident.

We'll side with Kevin first. So he's got this residual pain after the accident, and he goes to the emergency room because he's got no insurance for a standard doctor and when you don't have insurance you go to emergency (which I had to clarify for Geico: he went to an emergency room for treatment, but it was NOT an emergency), and they say well there's some swelling, blah blah blah, we can give you a prescription to something, blah blah blah, but how are you going to pay for this? And he's got no money (unless he sells the bike and the cellphone), so he pins it on my insurance, but to make it really worth going after, he's going to have to throw in the damage to the bike, and he'll have to increase that damage, because a ding in the rim is going to be too small for Geico to pursue.

Now, since I was in the car and he was the vulnerable vehicle, and regardless of how he was or wasn't riding, I ran into him (although, in a funny touch, the fire department report states "bike into car") and I've got to take care of these problems. Whereas if he really was considered a vehicle, it would be his fault for riding the wrong way.

So, what irritates me, is that when I ride legit with helmets and lights and all and sundry, and some car hits me, rather than sorting out damage and fault in a reasonable way like car drivers, this kind of mentality comes up -- "she's a bike. shit. she's going to take me to the cleaners over this" -- and that's why we have hit and run. And we have a lot of that in Eugene because we have a lot of bikes and a lot of guys like my pal Kevin who think that bike law is this free-for-all that allows them to behave however they want on the road and then they get compensation when stuff like this happens -- and he'll probably get it too. That's the cherry on top. Geico started in on me with the assumption that it was my fault -- probably because I didn't report it, probably because there was nothing to fecking report! -- and will look at the 2 ton car versus the 5 lb bike (and 200 lb man), and make me pay up money I don't have to a guy that doesn't deserve it. And, regardless of detail, I think that's probably an insurance industry standard (correct me if I'm wrong, Mr. Bascomb). You can call it a vehicle, but when something happens it's suddenly the drooping violet in need of protection against the evil smog monster.

You know, I should have blown off going to Econ and taken his bike right to Center for Appropriate Transport and watched them take out the ding for free. But I didn't. I told him to call me with the cost of repair and he didn't. Now I have to fight against the stuff I've been fighting for, because the details are against the stuff I'm for, and it's turning me into the ugly driver fighting the vulnerable righteous cyclist and it's just wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

I leave you with a paragraph from my paper on vehicular homicide (my horn - tooted), incorporating the words of the great John Forester:

Considering their bicycle as a vehicle inspires confidence in the cyclist. John Forester states that “The vehicular-style cyclist not only acts outwardly like a driver, he knows inwardly that he is one. Instead of feeling like a trespasser on roads owned by cars he feels like just another driver with a slightly different vehicle … other drivers treat him largely as one of them” [18]. Among the top fear cyclists have of riding is the interaction they’ll have with motor vehicles and the implications of an accident. If a cyclist is confident that he has as much right to the road as a motor vehicle driver, this fear soon dissipates, and, with proper education about the rules of the road, in all but subtle differences in speed, a confident bicycle driver is equal to an automobile driver on the highway.

It's hard to have that confidence when regardless of the law you're still looked on by drivers as vulnerable and out for a lawsuit. Thanks, Kevin.