Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Saturday, September 24, 2011
I'm on the hunt I'm after you ...
Duran Duran
Comcast Arena - Everett, WA
September 23, 2011
Free tickets from Frost Donuts via Facebook ... really.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Flopping
Seattle Sounders FC 0
CS Herediano 1
Concacaf Champions League
Group Stage Matchday 4
Seattle, WA - CenturyLink Field
September 20, 2011
There are certain tendencies in Latin American Football that have become epidemic. Where the game south of the Rio Grande down to the land of DAM once was a game of beauty it is now a game of flopping, flailing, stalling, and whining.
Bad referees fall for it, and in some ways by truly failing to punish it create a tacit rewards system.
But ... bad reffing does not cause crosses to float to nowhere, shots to go high over the bar, or passes to go to no one.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Hey batter hey!
Seattle Mariners 6
Texas Ranger 7
Safeco Field
September 17, 2011
First off a shout out to Dave O. for the free tix ...
I had never witnessed back to back to back home runs before. Thanks to the Rangers offense, I now have.
It was good to see a bunch of the young players the M's have brought up over the course of the season in person, there is a legit shot that this group could get good.
For Fan Appreciation Day this was a truly awful crowd.
Not what you want to find ...
When one is allergic this is not what one wants to find out front of one's apartment.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Dawnstar
Dawnstar, Legion Lost, Pete Woods, The Comic Stop, and the DC Relaunch ...
Yesterday I went up to the Everett location of The Comic Stop and got my DC Relaunch Legion Lost signed. Plus, Pete Woods was very cool and drew the Dawnstar headshot for me. He seemed a bit surprised I asked for her, but I thought it would be cool to have a Legion Lost character as opposed to a Batman drawing.
I went pretty late in the signing and it gave me a chance to actually have a nice conversation with Woods about his moving to working in the LOSH universe, the New Krypton story arc, and the comic industry in general. He's a good guy.
Kudos to The Comic Stop for these DC Relaunch store signings.
Tuesday, September 06, 2011
My Sunday night not too long ago ...
I had been having a great weekend. To begin with, it was a complete 2 day off weekend and that just doesn't happen enough. It is amazing how quickly the wheels can figuratively fall off.
6:41 PM Sunday as my weekend was winding down I put the key in the ignition of my van and got a whole lot of nothing in response. No click. No turnover. No bells or whistles or lights flashing. Nothing.
Nothing can be a jolt.
There I was sitting on a Sunday evening in my van with my daughter parked on the street near Green Lake and I was feeling pretty smacked in the face.
I do not drive the best of vehicles. I know that. But, I try to keep it running and am aware of any odd noises or creaks it makes. It has always had moments where it started roughly, it is a 94 with almost 250K miles on it after all. But, again nothing was not expected.
It is hard to maintain one's composure in situations where one feels smacked in the face, but I tried by taking several deep breaths. I popped the hood, grabbed some stuff from the back of the van, and even popped under it to try and see if there was anything noteworthy. More nothing.
I do not want to put any money into this van beyond basic maintenance.
My first call was to Scott and he had me try a few tricks, one of which led to a single click from the starter. A starter is not catastrophic in its repair cost so that was at least something. I felt fairly confident I was only dealing with a starter at this point so that helped. However, it was a Sunday evening and I was down at Green Lake with my daughter.
So ... while we were waiting for the help to arrive to get my (extremely helpful under the circumstances) daughter home I also placed a call to my insurance company and got the ball rolling for a tow. All things considered this was not going to be too bad, just needing a tow, pay for a new starter, and move on. In effect that is mostly what happened, but the details are a bit different in how it all came about.
The process began at 6:41 PM, I did not get home until 12:40AM ... six hours of joy.
It was best to go ahead and have the ride come and get my daughter, and although I missed her company I had to figure it was for the best.
The tow truck took its time.
Bear in mind I was doing my own diagnosis and repair attempts for close to an hour before call for the tow. The tow was to arrive within an hour and ten minutes, so I would expect to be pulled up to Lynnwood by about 9 PM.
9PM came and went.
I tried my insurance company and could not get anywhere in their phone tree. I missed a call from someone. Things were starting to get frustrating.
9:25PM a call comes in from the tow truck driver to inform me he might be a bit behind and should be there in a while as he was in Lake City. Fine.
It took him over an hour to get to Green Lake from Lake City. 10:30 a tow truck finally arrives with a mildly tired and frazzled tow truck driver. It has been almost 4 hours since I first attempted the ignition. It is over an hour since the tow truck driver told me he might be a little late even though it was 25 minutes late when he first called me. Fine.
I hop in the tow truck for the ride to the repair shop I am having the van dropped off at. For the next 20 or so minutes I am given the opportunity to reflect on the story of how unjust it was that my tow truck driver was arrested a few nights earlier. In this instance I am faced with no viable option other than to let the man rant and occasionally nod and agree with him. I can imagine it is a shock to find one's face against the hood of one's vehicle with one's hands in cuffs. I can imagine it is not fun to call my employer to inform him I have been working with a suspended license for some time. 48 hours later he is working and driving and has me in the cab of the tow truck and my van hooked up, but no worries. The seat belt does not work, but I decide to hold it in place because that would probably not help the situation were I to point it out to him.
We get to the repair shop, drop the van, and he offers me a ride home. It is almost 11PM, I am tired, and it is about a 4 or more mile walk home. No thanks on the ride. I grab myself and start walking.
I really don't mind that walk and I did not have to be at school until 9:30AM the next morning so all things considered it should be fine.
The walk really is not too bad and starts out to be kind of cathartic actually. The first mile or two is fine and I am walking briskly making good time when an SUV or van or something swerves towards me on the walkway and something comes flying out of a side window striking me on my left hip and more or less exploding fluid of some sort all over me. As I look behind me I see someone leaning back into the vehicle and I hear serious laughter emanating from the rapidly fleeing vehicle.
I am soaked and sticky at this point, which given that I am already tired and frustrated and still a couple miles from home at midnight sets me off on a really loud screaming tirade directed in the general direction of the vehicle. It was kind of an impressive display in some ways, but I probably owe an apology to the residents of the nearby houses. The fluid appears to have been something like a soft drink, which is probably a small victory in some ways.
Local police are not remotely interested in things like this. Make a note of that should it happen to you and save yourself the aggravation of getting no help when you call.
The last couple miles are more stomping than walking. It is hard to get right to sleep when I finally get home.
6:41 PM Sunday as my weekend was winding down I put the key in the ignition of my van and got a whole lot of nothing in response. No click. No turnover. No bells or whistles or lights flashing. Nothing.
Nothing can be a jolt.
There I was sitting on a Sunday evening in my van with my daughter parked on the street near Green Lake and I was feeling pretty smacked in the face.
I do not drive the best of vehicles. I know that. But, I try to keep it running and am aware of any odd noises or creaks it makes. It has always had moments where it started roughly, it is a 94 with almost 250K miles on it after all. But, again nothing was not expected.
It is hard to maintain one's composure in situations where one feels smacked in the face, but I tried by taking several deep breaths. I popped the hood, grabbed some stuff from the back of the van, and even popped under it to try and see if there was anything noteworthy. More nothing.
I do not want to put any money into this van beyond basic maintenance.
My first call was to Scott and he had me try a few tricks, one of which led to a single click from the starter. A starter is not catastrophic in its repair cost so that was at least something. I felt fairly confident I was only dealing with a starter at this point so that helped. However, it was a Sunday evening and I was down at Green Lake with my daughter.
So ... while we were waiting for the help to arrive to get my (extremely helpful under the circumstances) daughter home I also placed a call to my insurance company and got the ball rolling for a tow. All things considered this was not going to be too bad, just needing a tow, pay for a new starter, and move on. In effect that is mostly what happened, but the details are a bit different in how it all came about.
The process began at 6:41 PM, I did not get home until 12:40AM ... six hours of joy.
It was best to go ahead and have the ride come and get my daughter, and although I missed her company I had to figure it was for the best.
The tow truck took its time.
Bear in mind I was doing my own diagnosis and repair attempts for close to an hour before call for the tow. The tow was to arrive within an hour and ten minutes, so I would expect to be pulled up to Lynnwood by about 9 PM.
9PM came and went.
I tried my insurance company and could not get anywhere in their phone tree. I missed a call from someone. Things were starting to get frustrating.
9:25PM a call comes in from the tow truck driver to inform me he might be a bit behind and should be there in a while as he was in Lake City. Fine.
It took him over an hour to get to Green Lake from Lake City. 10:30 a tow truck finally arrives with a mildly tired and frazzled tow truck driver. It has been almost 4 hours since I first attempted the ignition. It is over an hour since the tow truck driver told me he might be a little late even though it was 25 minutes late when he first called me. Fine.
I hop in the tow truck for the ride to the repair shop I am having the van dropped off at. For the next 20 or so minutes I am given the opportunity to reflect on the story of how unjust it was that my tow truck driver was arrested a few nights earlier. In this instance I am faced with no viable option other than to let the man rant and occasionally nod and agree with him. I can imagine it is a shock to find one's face against the hood of one's vehicle with one's hands in cuffs. I can imagine it is not fun to call my employer to inform him I have been working with a suspended license for some time. 48 hours later he is working and driving and has me in the cab of the tow truck and my van hooked up, but no worries. The seat belt does not work, but I decide to hold it in place because that would probably not help the situation were I to point it out to him.
We get to the repair shop, drop the van, and he offers me a ride home. It is almost 11PM, I am tired, and it is about a 4 or more mile walk home. No thanks on the ride. I grab myself and start walking.
I really don't mind that walk and I did not have to be at school until 9:30AM the next morning so all things considered it should be fine.
The walk really is not too bad and starts out to be kind of cathartic actually. The first mile or two is fine and I am walking briskly making good time when an SUV or van or something swerves towards me on the walkway and something comes flying out of a side window striking me on my left hip and more or less exploding fluid of some sort all over me. As I look behind me I see someone leaning back into the vehicle and I hear serious laughter emanating from the rapidly fleeing vehicle.
I am soaked and sticky at this point, which given that I am already tired and frustrated and still a couple miles from home at midnight sets me off on a really loud screaming tirade directed in the general direction of the vehicle. It was kind of an impressive display in some ways, but I probably owe an apology to the residents of the nearby houses. The fluid appears to have been something like a soft drink, which is probably a small victory in some ways.
Local police are not remotely interested in things like this. Make a note of that should it happen to you and save yourself the aggravation of getting no help when you call.
The last couple miles are more stomping than walking. It is hard to get right to sleep when I finally get home.
Monday, September 05, 2011
Tan Line Fail
Tan line fail math: Work outdoors on sunny days for a 3 day weekend + wear work boots with camo shorts due to heat = white ankles, feet, and legs - tanned calves.
Why there is a hiatus ... The Scarecrow Effect
To start with I must point out that a HIATUS should imply that I eventually intend to return to something.
I write things out long hand, rarely composing at a keyboard. The first typing up of a handwritten piece of material is therefore like a sort of first revision because I correct a bit as I go. It works for me. I like it.
However, much like with virtually everything there are drawbacks to my process. It's nice to be able to make notes on random sheets of paper, but I also have to not lose those little random sheets of paper. This is not exactly green of me.
My handwriting is actually truly "that" bad. There are times where it even gets worse as i try to keep my hand going as fast as my brain. Translating my own stuff can be therefore sometimes quite a challenge.
Timeliness is also an issue. Without having a computer at home I have to make the time to type and not get distracted while on the computer by other things. Easier said then done.
Keeping track of the copies of things I write or making certain I have backups is essential. This is hardly different than what pre-computer age writers faced but is different today than the norm.
I also need to manage all the different notebooks I have out there to make certain I have the correct one with me as I tend to have several in use at the same time.
At some point I do need to consider getting a computer. I know that. I am not a luddite i just like my home the way it is.
So, if I lose a notebook that has no backup it can be a real problem.
Guess what happened?
In the middle of June I lost a notebook that had no backup and had a number of pages and scene descriptions for The Scarecrow Effect. I use the word lost here loosely as my van was broken into and the bag that was taken included the notebook in question. I am guessing that about 20ish pages of material was lost. This accounts for several weeks or more worth of work on a project I have been chipping away at for a couple years now.
I can stand losing the items in the bag. Not to say it doesn't suck to be ripped off. It is irritating to be ripped off, but I can eventually replace what was lost. Not the notebook.
Losing this notebook is awful. I didn't misplace it and do it to myself. Having it taken is a violation that really messed with me. Someone has my work. Someone probably simply tossed it away.
There are a lot of things on those pages I can recreate quickly and I took an opportunity to try and at least get those ideas onto paper. I know I got some of it. After working on those pages for so long I can practically picture them. But, i know I did not get it all. And, I feel violated.
The Scarecrow Effect is a novel I am actually pleased with insofar as how it was progressing. The Shotgunprose blog has a number of excerpts and I had reached a point where I was actively seeking feedback from a variety of people on the material.
I know that me losing my notebook is not quite on par with Bono getting his songbook stolen in Seattle before the October recording sessions it still really hurt me in a way that was unexpected. It took me several tries to be able to take those pages of notes in order to set it aside.
I had wanted to get right back on the horse but it quickly became clear to me that I really cannot in this regard. It is going to be best to take a hiatus at this point.
So ... I return to to town of Lippincott. Lippincott is a novel I actually completed a draft of in 1995 that I have on occasion taken a peak at over the years. The story of writing Lippincott's first draft is in itself kind of funny, but will be another posting. Lippincott is dusted off and in the process of massive overhaul. Readers have already begun looking at it for me. At this point I am so far removed from it that it feels like reading someone else. Anyone who wants to help review a few chapters can feel free to let me know.
I will get back to and finish The Scarecrow Effect.
I write things out long hand, rarely composing at a keyboard. The first typing up of a handwritten piece of material is therefore like a sort of first revision because I correct a bit as I go. It works for me. I like it.
However, much like with virtually everything there are drawbacks to my process. It's nice to be able to make notes on random sheets of paper, but I also have to not lose those little random sheets of paper. This is not exactly green of me.
My handwriting is actually truly "that" bad. There are times where it even gets worse as i try to keep my hand going as fast as my brain. Translating my own stuff can be therefore sometimes quite a challenge.
Timeliness is also an issue. Without having a computer at home I have to make the time to type and not get distracted while on the computer by other things. Easier said then done.
Keeping track of the copies of things I write or making certain I have backups is essential. This is hardly different than what pre-computer age writers faced but is different today than the norm.
I also need to manage all the different notebooks I have out there to make certain I have the correct one with me as I tend to have several in use at the same time.
At some point I do need to consider getting a computer. I know that. I am not a luddite i just like my home the way it is.
So, if I lose a notebook that has no backup it can be a real problem.
Guess what happened?
In the middle of June I lost a notebook that had no backup and had a number of pages and scene descriptions for The Scarecrow Effect. I use the word lost here loosely as my van was broken into and the bag that was taken included the notebook in question. I am guessing that about 20ish pages of material was lost. This accounts for several weeks or more worth of work on a project I have been chipping away at for a couple years now.
I can stand losing the items in the bag. Not to say it doesn't suck to be ripped off. It is irritating to be ripped off, but I can eventually replace what was lost. Not the notebook.
Losing this notebook is awful. I didn't misplace it and do it to myself. Having it taken is a violation that really messed with me. Someone has my work. Someone probably simply tossed it away.
There are a lot of things on those pages I can recreate quickly and I took an opportunity to try and at least get those ideas onto paper. I know I got some of it. After working on those pages for so long I can practically picture them. But, i know I did not get it all. And, I feel violated.
The Scarecrow Effect is a novel I am actually pleased with insofar as how it was progressing. The Shotgunprose blog has a number of excerpts and I had reached a point where I was actively seeking feedback from a variety of people on the material.
I know that me losing my notebook is not quite on par with Bono getting his songbook stolen in Seattle before the October recording sessions it still really hurt me in a way that was unexpected. It took me several tries to be able to take those pages of notes in order to set it aside.
I had wanted to get right back on the horse but it quickly became clear to me that I really cannot in this regard. It is going to be best to take a hiatus at this point.
So ... I return to to town of Lippincott. Lippincott is a novel I actually completed a draft of in 1995 that I have on occasion taken a peak at over the years. The story of writing Lippincott's first draft is in itself kind of funny, but will be another posting. Lippincott is dusted off and in the process of massive overhaul. Readers have already begun looking at it for me. At this point I am so far removed from it that it feels like reading someone else. Anyone who wants to help review a few chapters can feel free to let me know.
I will get back to and finish The Scarecrow Effect.
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