Syriously, though

My favorite reason for starting a new blog is "it seems like the thing to do." A friend just started (Syri-ously), and of course I am already hooked because of her insight from working at McDonalds. If she posts for more than a week, she'll probably get a link on my side bar. (And dude, I'm moving Tyler down if he doesn't post soon.)

On a related note, JSAugustine is now blogging at PencilsDownEveryone.

On another related note, I look forward to the creation of another blog from another student trying to finish his geography degree. He will be heading over to Iraq this winter, and will blog about it (hopefully) for part of an independent study project. I think I should help him set the blog thing up before he is activated in January.

--gh

Allen in space

Allen was fortunate enough to traverse space. When he came back, he was always bragging about what it was like to travel at speeds approaching that of light. We all knew that he probably screamed like a little girl the entire time, but, he's the only one who's been to space.

It was hard for him to talk about this experience without appearing to brag. Maybe he meant to brag.

He did say something peculiar. After he returned from his trip through space, he appeared uncomfortable. When we asked him what was wrong, he said "you have no idea how much air stinks unless you've flown through space."

I think that was just another way to brag.

--gh

I don't like Blue Collar TV

I am currently planning a schedule for next fall. It is interesting to work on something over a year away. Some of our conversations actually have years like 2007 or 2008 in them. Trying to comprehend a date in the future like that is like trying to understand, well, something hard and stuff. We'll probably be in rocket cars then...



Extra credit:
What is the inspiration for the artwork above?
Hint: The title is "Want to buy a monkey?"

--gh

Jason's Tree

This little work of art is dedicated to Jason F., former student and Geo-Tech Warrior. Thanks to M's suggestion, it is at a normal resolution for wallpaperin' and stuff, (well, if you click on it, that is).


This tree is in NE Missouri, along HWY 136. If I had to guess, I would say this was in Downing, Missouri. Jason was aghast when he saw the trimming job they did to this tree. Then, about two months later, we were driving by it again and the tree made its first dopey attempt at recovery with a single thin branch. I think I took a picture to capture the moment, or to share with him later. Someday I should share a picture of a gum-smear in the stairwell of the Holiday Inn-Express in Keokuk, Iowa. We named it Sebastian, and it is almost worthy of a road-trip to visit "him." Almost...

--gh

The King and I

Last night I met 'The King,' he reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. He looked me straight in the eye and said:

"I'ma tell you just this once, 

you gotta believe in yourself.  

Don't get too down on anything.  

Don't look at any situation as 

a glass that is half full, or 

half empty -- 'cause you don't 

know what's in the glass.  If 

it is a jar of urine, then you 

really don't want it to be too full..."

He went on like this for about an hour. A lot of it dealt with quaint, witty statements about 'his momma' and how cool it was now that 2Pac was with him in Heaven. We shook hands and then he left.

Later, I realized this apperceptive journey was just the result of eating too close to bed-time. Still, if I need to see Elvis again, I know that he is just a few pickles away.

--gh

Sold out, at the crossroads

Earlier I mentioned what it is like to sit on the tailgate of my pickup and watch the dog each morning. M said it best with "the world always looks better when seated on the tailgate of a pickup truck"...

Yesterday morning (Friday), I had just dropped the Boy off at the Middle School and headed out with Terra for the countryside. I love living in a city environment (over 2,000 persons/sq.mi., and my mailbox is on my house!) while being less than a mile from pure ruralness (8 persons/sq.mi., and I don't see many mailboxes). One of our favorite spots is a place I like to call "The Crossroads" because it is where 270th Street (love that E-911) and Hawk intersect, in pure dirt glory. It is 1/2 mile from any gravel, which proved to be problematic.

I had just been there the day before, with no incident. But we had about 24 hours of drizzling rain, on and off. Everywhere seemed dry enough, and I did not notice a problem until I was about 200 yards into the dirt road. (I was singing along to a song from Banda el Recodo, "no me rajo, no me rajo, no me rajo." Then, I "rajo-ed." (Spanish: rajar means "to crack.")

I didn't hit anything, and I stayed on the road. But, I just got bogged down. It was about 6-10" of greasy, slippery mud on a hard pan that seemed even slipperier. I didn't spend too much time trying to get out of there, because it was at the base of a hill in all directions. I did manage to do a slow 180, and "park" it just off the side of the road. There were other tracks going through the area, and I was jealous of 4WD vehicles. I am convinced that I live in an area that justifies four-wheel drive, and not just for snow (which can stick around all winter in NW Missouri -- or not).

I set out with the dog, walking back to town. I was wearing loafers, unfortunately, but the fields adjacent to the road weren't really that muddy. It took about an hour and a half to walk home. The dog absolutely loved it, thinking it was an adventure or something. I was pretty drenched, and muddy, but I actually had a good time. I was pretty sure that I would be missing my 10:00 class. I did get back to the house at 9:07am, and called the office. My student worker was tickled with my story, and I told her to put a note up about the class. I was also filling in for the Colonel today, and I was hoping I could get in by 11:00, but I had to get that truck! Believe it or not, it only took $75 to get it yanked out of there. The tow truck was even slipping around getting to the truck.

I made it home at 9:50, but since the class was already canceled I balanced my checkbook rather than showing up only a few minutes late. I did make the other lecture, and I am not sure if I ever filled in for anyone like that before. I felt like a substitute teacher or something.

Did I tell anyone about my adventure? I told EVERYONE about it. It was actually one of the funnier things that has happened to me in a while, and I enjoyed trecking across farmland trying to get back to civilization so that I could lecture on Political Geography. The whole time I was walking in the muck and mist, I kept thinking about how lucky I am and how awesome this world is.

--gh

100 silent voices chanting: "Please fall!"

Yes, I have fallen in room 2560. Two years ago, I fell while passing out the course evaluation forms at the end of the semester. I had about twenty comments from that semester that said things like: "I sure hope you are okay, that was a nasty fall." Maybe I got some sympathy critiques that semester. If I have a class that is not going so well, I should stage a fall at the end of the semester.

--gh

Smokning

"Smokning," that's right, it isn't a typo., I think an extra "n" fits into nearly any word, making it better. I have a story about smoking.

Okay, I was driving on HWY 50 this morning in Jefferson City. I grew up in a development along RT-50, but 1,200 miles east...

I pulled up next to a glorious woman in an old Toyota Tercel. She was about 450 lbs., had a few chins, and was smoking like a foundry. It was so awesome watching her. Every time she put the cigarette to her mouth, she would draw the smoke in and close her eyes. Maybe I had the pleasure of witnessing the day's first smoke, because she was totally into it. I became jealous of her. She had no idea that I was watching because at that moment, her world was a few grams of tobacco leaves, cut, trimmed, and rolled in paper. Her eyes shut for two seconds, which is an eternity while driving.

I kept looking over at her and wishing I was that woman. Yes, she was glorious.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

I learned on the radio last night that some people are struggling with Post Election Selection Trauma, or PEST, and need counseling. We need another sorry everybody website for those people. Dude, I don't think half the people I voted for were elected, and I'm okay. But apparently, this trauma is real, so, like... sorry and stuff.

--gh

Jiggle the handle...

When the toilet starts running, it is trying to tell you something. Perhaps you should listen to it.



--gh

How is it to be like you?

I have been extraordinarily happy lately. I mean elated, ecstatic, group-home-resident happy. I've been walking around with a big dopey grin on for about two months now. Everything is going right, ...I would say "according to plan," but I don't really have a plan.

After dropping the kids off for school, I usually take the dog out to the country. (She's wearing a sweater now.) I sit on the tailgate of my pickup thinking I could spend the whole day watching her, and then I realize I have to go be with the people. On the way to work I find myself thinking "what an absolutely wonderful day," even when it was raining a few weeks back. (Well, I do like rain.)

The funny thing is that each week is getting even better. Even more obnoxiously happy. I even like everything on the radio. While driving to Jeff City, I listened to Merle Haggard, Jean Sebelius, Bill Monroe and the Bluegrass Boys, Chingy, D12, and Seether. The band standard "Pennsylvania 6-5000" came up on the radio and I almost blew a lung singing that out (as well as "Mood Indigo," "Summertime," and "Blue Moon of Kentucky"). I even considered listening to sports talk-radio, but I don't want to push my happy luck.

--gh

Only Astro has morals

I am watching an episode of "The Jetsons" where they use special glasses to predict racetrack results to win $200,000. I haven't watched this show much lately, but I am saddened at how morally corrupt George and Jane have become. How will they raise Judy and Elroy without basic principles. Get this: they don't even get in trouble -- the gag is that the IRS (Interspace Revenue Service) took most of their ill-gained earnings.

I had to turn the channel when some agents were watching them, it gave me the creeps. ...but Tyler made me turn it back.

I was watching cartoons because Arafat hijacked the news. Well, sort of. Every news channel is broadcasting events after his burial. This guy is truly an enigma. He founded a terrorist group bent on the creation of a Palestinian state at the destruction of Israel. He eventually gains control of the P.L.O. which invents airplane hijacking, but it also is the ONLY voice of the Palestinians that anyone is willing to listen to. He wins the Nobel Peace prize basically for two things: a handshake, and not appearing to call for the death of 5 million people for a few months. For the first time in decades, Israel seems to be run by someone not entirely driven by hatred, and actually proposing the removal of the most outrageous settlements. And Arafat, probably criminally insane for the last 10 years, seems to think that nothing less than the death of every Israeli would be suitable.

So, I guess the world will be interested in seeing who becomes the voice of the Palestinian Authority. Remember that a "Palestinian" is not an ethnic designation, but purely geographic. They are mostly Arabs caught in the wrong area, controlled by Israeli forces in areas gained after provocation. (I don't have a problem with Israel seizing land after the whole region attacked in 1967. But settling "pioneers" into those areas is an inappropriate use of civilians for militaristic purposes. They should have just held the land as a bartering tool to give back after negotiations.) A Palestinian could also be a Christian (lots of them, in fact), and even a Jew, occasionally.

If you are trying to gage my feelings on this issue based on my writing, good luck. I hold no one harmless in this situation. The fact that the Palestinians would knowingly use a person like Arafat as their only voice shows desperation. A desperation that should be acknowledged. (I do think the issuing of a Nobel prize is a travesty, though. Who could ever look at that as reasonable again.)

--gh

Shaving issues

Plain and simple: I forgot how to shave.

I remember when I first started shaving, some time in my fourteenth year. My step-father bought a single-blade razor for me and showed me the basics. It was months before I cut myself, so it must have been an effective lesson. When I was 15, my father mentioned that I should probably learn how to shave, and I told him that I already have been. He seemed dissapointed, like someone had stolen his birthright. But honestly, this shows that he wasn't exactly in touch with those kind of things. He was distracted. He did get the first crack at teaching me how to tie a necktie, but it was only once, and I was about 9 or 10. It didn't stick, and my step-father had to work with me on that. Too bad, because my father ties some of the best neckties that I have ever seen. I'm talking "JCPenny catalog" good.

Over the years, my shaving has gone from single blade, to double, to triple, and I refuse to use those quad-blade shavers. I went from shaving creme to soap to gel. I even tried an electric shaver, but that wasn't cutting it.

I have an absolutely horrid beard. It grows in brown, blonde, red (!), and gray/white. My hair is straight (well, my father once told me it is "kinky") and so is my beard hair. However, it grows very close to the skin, like a wheat field full of grain, but blown over by a strong storm. Also, it grows in all directions. If you wanted to say that my beard has a "grain," then the wood that most resembles it would be that curly maple that guitar makers seek out for high-end Les Pauls. To shave with the grain, I have to memorize the direction depending on which part of the beard I am shaving.

The only thing that would make this worse would be patchiness. My beard looks fairly consistent (except for color and grain). So, I think growing a beard is not in my future. (And as my father says: "the men in our family do not grow beards.")

Because of the closeness of the beard, a real close shave would end up with ingrown hairs, also known as Pseudofolliculitis Barbae (PFB). My neck would always have little bumps of these ingrown hairs which is uncomfortable as well as unsightly. It was a conversation about this that caused my father to say I had kinky hair. Hair that curls back in toward the skin is a problem that many African-Americans have with their beards.

Last week I started to get desparate over this issue. I debated buying another electric shaver, one that won't cut so close. But this would be a $150 purchase with no guarantee of results. I decided to heed my father's mis-guided assertion and look into how an African-American might solve this problem. This meant going to the Wal-Mart on the south side of St. Joseph. You cannot purchase these items in Maryville, or in the north Wal-Mart of St. Joe. (Wal-Mart "south" is also where I can find my Mexican music CDs, not seen elsewhere.)

For a week now, I have been "shaving like an African-American" using the Bump Fighter line of shaving products. Yes, this means I have shaving creme with a picture of an attractive, well-shaven, black man on my bathroom counter. This may confuse some house guests, but so far it has been working out well. I do have to ask why the special shaving gel has to smell like coconuts, though. What's up with that?

The biggest change is probably the razor. It is a single-blade, which keeps me from shaving too close. Also, it has a special blade that keeps the cutting edge slightly above the skin. Shaving too close is definitely part of the problem with me, which is counter to all those commercials that brag about closeness being comfortable.

I also learned not to shave when I first get out of bed. After laying down for several hours, the face is puffier and this is harder to shave. If I wait about 1/2 hour or more, the skin tightens up again, providing a better shaving canvas.

--gh

"Heavy Metal Alarm Clock" woke me up this morning

As soon as my son saw episode #4 of Viva La Bam's first season, I knew I would some day wake up to the Heavy Metal Alarm Clock. Replace Bam Margera with Tyler, and Phil Margera with me.

Instead of thrash metal, I received a fairly tame dose of Tyler's best shot at "Smoke on the Water." Oh, and it was 6:30am, about 20 minutes before I would have woken up anyhow.

He couldn't do it at 3am, because Amy might not have handled it as well as April did.

--gh

Yak, yak, yak

I just read a scary news report that speculated on the use of cell phones in airplanes.

I am not capable of sleeping in a sitting position unless I have been kept up for 36 hours. I am jealous of the people who do this on flights. Now I have no reason to be jealous because they will be woken up every five minutes by a ring-tone that sounds like a song from Usher.

Can you imagine a three hour flight with someone playfully talking on the phone nonstop? Normally, airline conversations are subdued because people don't really know each other and if they do they are more cognizant of their surroundings. But on a cell phone, only one person is on the plane, and they will talk as if they are not surrounded by strangers in a pressurized tube 30,000 feet up.

--gh

A Very Merry Unauthorized Children's Scientology Pageant

Is there ANY chance that these clams, er... CoS kids will ever turn out okay? This picture is absolutely awesome!



Now some clam is going to call me SP.

--gh

"esta es la eleccion mas importante de nuestras vidas"

The title is a quote from Kerry in Colorado or New Mexico. Complete pandering, but I like the kind of spanish that can be translated by most Americans with at least a year of High-School Spanish. By the way, I don't agree with that statement. This is not the most important election of our lives. That's ludicrous.

I would have liked one or two more weeks before the election, I am probably in the minority there. I just don't want it to end. I guess it did not end right away in 2000, but I found that process distasteful. I also had a hard time deciding because I liked both Kerry and Bush. It was not a hold my nose and vote situation, they are both winners in my book. (I sound like a kindergarten teacher.)

I am very optimisitic about the direction of our country. A long friend told me that she voted for some republicans, probably for the first time in her life. I have another friend who seemed to vote for some democrats for the first time. They acted like they reached an epiphany when they realized that they didn't have to vote straight ticket. I love the Midwest.

Me? I voted for 9 democrats and 6 republicans. If you take out the unchallenged seats, it was 5/5, half and half. As long anticipated, I did not write in Sharpton's name. There was only two slots on my ballot that I actually worried about who won. This was my U.S. representative in congress, and the state Attorney General. Other than that, I will be satisfied with the outcome however it turns out.

Go democracy! I love the Electoral College system!

--gh

Personality Disorder Test

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid:	Low
Schizoid:	Low
Schizotypal:	Low
Antisocial:	Moderate
Borderline:	Low
Histrionic:	High
Narcissistic:	Low
Avoidant:	Low
Dependent:	Low
Obsessive-Compulsive:	Low
-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! --