Colorful Neighbors

The sudden drop in temperature and uptick in wind speed around the Twin Cities area means this golden colored maple tree right outside our living room window is about to lose all its festive autumn plumage. Too bad, that. On recent gray afternoons, it has kept some cheerful brightness going – very nearly a compact, backyard version of the Sun with it’s ability to bring some welcome energy into the house.

I’m guessing within a few days we’ll have nothing but bare sticks outside the window.

Still, there’s some compensation for the emptiness of the winter months in all the raucous color we’re getting today. In much in the same way, the Real Sun will someday (5 billion years) burn up all its hydrogen and turn into a colorful dying thing very much like the creepy cat-like space eyeball photographed this week by NASA. This image represents what remains of a star very much like our own, after the thrill is gone. It’s a troubling cosmic routine with a brilliant conclusion. Too bad we won’t be able to appreciate it fully.

Cheerful thoughts, eh? Sounds like somebody’s been feeling the weight of years on his birthday! But all of this full-of-life to bleak-landscape change is entirely predictable and impossible to stop, so why not quit moping and enjoy the show while it’s still going on?

Where do you go to enjoy fall color?

Totally Spun

Today’s post is by Wendell Wilkie High School’s perennial sophomore, Bubby Spamden.

Hi Mr. C.,

Boy am I lucky to still be a high school sophomore in 2012! We have SO MANY cool media resources.

Mr. Boozenporn assigned us to watch the Obama – Romney debate last night. We’re supposed to be able to stand up in class today, give an opinion on who did better, and defend it. When a bunch of people in the class protested that we don’t have the time or the attention span, Mr. B. said “too bad” and that we “had Nixon to thank.”

What does Cynthia Nixon have to do with this?

So the TV was turned on in my room, but I kinda got wrapped up playing Halo 3 with my buddy Doug, and before I new it, the credits were rolling and I had beaten Doug but I had also missed the whole debate!

No problem, I thought. They always have experts gassing on about stuff afterwards, so I’ll just watch that and figure out what happened. After about 40 minutes, this is what I had learned –

Obama and Romney both absolutely rocked the debate, and each of them were totally humiliated. After this, it’s hardly worth it to go to the trouble to vote because the contest has already been decided in favor of one of them, though I can’t remember which one it is.

Anyway, the game is over! Or else it has been changed – that much I know. Romney and Obama both spouted plenty of facts and tons of numbers that are absolutely correct and completely misleading, but we should not pay attention to that or to fact checkers because sometimes their research gets in the way of the telling made up stories about what’s going on.

Oh, and I’m pretty sure Obama got down on his knees and prayed to a photo of Lenin’s corpse before the show began, and Romney literally cooked and ate a peasant onstage! Gosh, I wish I’d seen that live!

Anyway, I’m glad I live in a country where every political thing that happens has this big crowd of people around it who will chew events over and spit them back out at you. It’s like being a baby bird – we’re always getting a steady supply of warm food, or in this case, opinions! Maybe someday we’ll be strong enough to have thoughts on my own, but for right now I’m grateful to the internet, social media, and TV. I now know everything I need to know about the first Obama – Romney debate!

My report in Mr. B’s class is going to be awesome!

Your pal,
Bubby

Ever forget to do an assignment?

Opening Statement

Today’s post comes from Ninth District Congressman Loomis Beechly, representing all the water surface area in Minnesota, which actually covers a lot of (wet) ground.

The Congressman Introduces Himself To Some Anglers.

Greetings Constituents,

Representing all the water surface area is a perfect job for me. When I was a kid I stole my dad’s pontoon and went joyriding. The Lake Patrol came and got me and they pretended they were going to lock me in jail. I did them one better – I pretended I was excited about becoming a ward of the state, and they backed off.

I love debates because it’s so much like going out on the lake in a boat. There’s lots of wind and you circle for hours.

But one thing you have to be sure you’ve got down pat before you participate in a debate is a good Opening Statement. Experts call it your “Elevator Speech” – a one minute summary of who you are and what you’re about. They say you’d better give up running for office if you don’t have one of these ready to go. But I’ve never understood that because I managed to get elected without one! But I wrote something anyway.

Here it is.

Hi, I’m Loomis Beechly and I’m asking for your vote to represent the 9th district in Congress. I could tell you that I’m the best person in the world for this job, but we both know that’s not true. There are lots of nice folks who would be excellent Members of Congress, but they’re not running and I am.

I could tell you that I’m just like you, and that I will do what you would do if you went to Washington in my place. But that’s impossible. Only you can be you. I have to be me. Some days, I can barely pull that off, but I promise I will always, always try.

They say I should have clear talking points on every issue, but I just can’t remember what my positions are supposed to be and so I’ll always say whatever comes into my head. Some people argue that this makes me unfit for office, but I disagree. Yes, I’m inconsistent, but I’ve always been that way. It’s true that I sometimes have changeable policies, but that’s my way of fully representing every single person in my district. People’s views vary. It’s my goal to be in complete agreement with each of my constituents for at least one minute during the course of my service. Maybe the timing will work out and I’ll cast an important vote during the sixty seconds I totally agree with YOU!

I know it’s not the usual bio, but that’s who I am and I hope that’s good enough to convince you to give me your boat.

I mean your vote.

So that’s my speech. If we get caught in an elevator somewhere on the campaign trail over the next few weeks, now you already know what I’m going to say. Unless something else comes to mind!

See you on the campaign trail,

Loomis Beechly

What’s YOUR opening statement?

Just Say No

Today, we offer a spot of Uninformed Commentary by formerly respected journalist and currently desperate wordsmith Bud Buck.

It’s “genius grant” time again. And apparently all 23 of this year’s honorees will accept their prize.

The no-strings-attached $500,000 awards from the MacArthur Foundation go to people who didn’t apply and don’t know they are under consideration. Their potential is assessed in secret and honored in public when the mantle of “genius” is quite suddenly placed on their shoulders. So it comes as a complete surprise, unless you are the sort of person who fills your idle moments with casual daydreams about your own greatness, posing rhetorical questions like this:

When will someone else notice how amazing I am?

Alas, most of us are exactly that sort of person. But with the passing of each October 1st, we who were anticipating a gentle tap on the shoulder feel unjustly neglected.

“SHE got a ‘genius’ grant? With ME, right here in plain sight?”

Don’t get me wrong, the winners are nice enough people,but I believe they have allowed a Trojan Horse into the stockade. Now they will have to carry the “genius” title around everyplace they go and have it applied to them in everything they do. In other words, it will be Hell. The first time a recipient is in the slightest way baffled by the menu board at McDonalds, they will hear these taunting words:

This shouldn’t be hard for you. You’re a GENIUS.”

And let’s face it. Everyone is a dolt sometimes. That’s why I think these MacArthur grants are really a secret behavioral experiment designed to test the proposition that every human has an inflated sense of her own worth. The organizers are searching (so far in vain) for the one smart person wise enough to refuse any prize that comes with the onerous burden of the “G” word in its title. How can you continue to operate as a contributing member of society when everyone is constantly looking to you for brainy magic and measuring you against their outsized expectations while quietly hoping for your failure?

Yes, you may say you’re up to it, that it wouldn’t change you. But imagine receiving the call and doing the subsequent news interviews. There will be congratulations. You’ll be invited to parties. You’ll get introduced in a specific way. Let that title sink in. It will always be attached to your name from here on out. “Genius Grant Recipient” How does that make you feel about yourself? How do you view the non-“Genius Grant” people (meaning just about everyone)? Still feel like you won a prize? Don’t.

It’s a smugness bomb, aimed at your soul.

It’s so obvious! The real “genius” is the one who says “no thanks.”
That’s what I’d do – not that I’ll ever get the chance.

– Bud Buck

I don’t know if Bud is making a surprisingly cogent point about human nature or begging to be given the MacArthur Prize next year. Or both.

What prize would you most like to win?

Ask Dr. Babooner

Dear Dr. Babooner,

I’ve spent the summer working hard around the hive – I don’t mind. I’m a drone and it’s my job. But there comes a time when the season changes and the work ends and we’re free to go out and look for sugar, which is remarkably easy to find around trash cans and any other place people toss their half-filled pop containers. Just about everywhere, it turns out.

It’s a magical and tragic time for us – we get to tank up on the sweet stuff before we die, which we all will do in short order, me included. Again – that bummer comes as part of the gig. My feelings make no difference at all, so I’m resigned to my fate.

But here’s what frosts me, Dr. Babooner. People waving their hands around in the air and running for cover or trying to crush me just because I happen to be buzzing around. They think I’ve come to attack them, and that is simply NOT TRUE! I really don’t care about them, except when they lunge at me.

Just yesterday I spent the day between a window and a window shade in this guy’s bedroom. I’d fly up to the top of the window and he’s throw a slipper at me and then cower in the doorway. His aim was lousy so I’d survive, but five minutes later he’s slapping at me with a rolled up newspaper, his other arm draped over his head to protect himself. Oh, and the whole while, he’s shrieking.

Here’s what I want to tell him: Look at me. I’m weak. I’m confused. A little dizzy. I’m going to die! Maybe sooner than I think out of embarrassment for you over the way you flail and screech.

Please, let’s all behave with some dignity – is that too much to ask?

Dizzily,
Waspy D. Pest

Here’s what I told Waspy; “Asking other people to behave with “dignity” is sometimes too much to ask, especially when those people are terrified. Frightened people don’t obey logic and can’t make sense. Your best course is to avoid them. Unfortunately, there is something about you that sends certain people into a frenzy and that will always be true no matter what you do. Ultimately I can only offer you your own advice – You’re going to die. So accept your fate and enjoy the nice weather. Get your fill of spilled pop and rotting fruit while you can, and avoid confrontations even when they come looking for you! And for heavens sake, don’t get caught between the window and the shade. What a terrible place to spend your final hours!”

But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

Down By The Old Mars Stream

Mars is turning out to be warmer than expected, and we are finding even more evidence that water once flowed there.

What a lovely spot for a picnic!
Image NASA

But clearly things have changed since those good old days on the red planet. While at least one of our famous Earthly waterways is showing a positive trend, quality-wise, the Martian brook that Curiosity rolled over this week has clearly seen better days. The question of whether there was life there at one time remains unanswered for now, though I think we all can see where this is headed. We may never have the chance to waste an afternoon lounging in a peaceful dew-freshened glade alongside a Martian brook.

But I still feel a little nostalgic.

My darling I am dreaming of a distant sky,
A place where we were sweethearts that has since gone dry;
The ground is red and rocky now, the air is thinner too.
But still I will remember, where I first met you.

Down by the old Mars stream where the microbes grew,
There was algae too, in that watery stew.
What a different hue, was our Martian goo.
We made a scene. It was pea green! Down by the old Mars stream.

What is your favorite, most romantic waterway?

The Home Place

Today is musician Laurie Lewis’s birthday. She’s 62, born in 1950.

Laurie Lewis plays bluegrass and a jazzier fiddle music called “newgrass”. She’s from California and discovered the work of Bill Monroe through a community of musicians in the San Francisco Bay area – not the standard path but certainly effective. She’s not an imitator, but finds inspiration in the tradition. Lewis told an interviewer earlier this year, “How am I ever going to be able to imitate a man from Kentucky, I’m a woman from Berkeley.”

She turned out to be a trailblazer in her chosen style of music. As far as the impetus for breaking gender barriers and being unconventional, it seems to come naturally out of her upbringing. Here’s a quote from another interview:

“You know, I grew up in Berkeley, and it took me years of getting out of the area before I got over the feeling that everything was weird, everybody thought differently than I did, everything was strange. I realized after awhile that, no, I was the weird one, and that Berkeley was the strange place. And outside of modern European countries, there weren’t many places in the world that were like this. You know how Europeans claim they can spot Americans all the time? When I was 16 I went to Europe for the first time with my family. Nobody thought we were an American family. They all thought we were maybe German or Danish or something. The way we dressed and the way we were was just different. But that’s what I grew up in.”

What are some of the lasting effects of your upbringing?

Home, Jeeves

California’s Governor, Jerry Brown, has signed legislation that will eventually lead to the legal operation of autonomous autos on the state’s many, many, many roads. By 2015 California will have guidelines to govern cars that drive themselves. I shared this news with Wally, proprietor of Wally’s Intimida – home of the Sherpa sport utility vehicle.

Here at Wally’s Intimida, we are thrilled about the coming age of driverless cars! I believe it will bring back the Hugeness Imperative! The H.I. was an important part of the car buying equation back in the ’90’s, when people sought vehicles that were increasingly larger and heavier as a safety measure. The thinking was – “if my car is bigger than yours, it will be harder for you to hurt me”. A line of reasoning that is undeniably true in terms of physics, and truly undeniable as a sales pitch! Oh how I miss those days!

In the years since, people have started to place more value things like fuel efficiency and reducing greenhouse gasses.

But I believe that turning control of your car over to Robbie the Robot is going to bring back the H.I. with a vengeance, because if Robbie goofs up, the sheer bulk of the vehicle will become your last line of defense! We’re already working on a Sherpa “Impervious” package – marketing the car cabin as a watertight, reinforced, self-contained life support system that cannot be compromised by any sort of impact.

Yes, it will be considerably heavier than the current Sherpa, which is already as hefty as a fleet of motorhomes. But don’t worry about gas mileage, because Robbie will be able to drive it sensibly. He’ll accelerate gently from stoplights and follow other cars at a safe distance. He won’t gun it on yellow lights and he’ll actually come to a full stop before turning right on red! You won’t notice because you won’t be paying attention anyway. The car will simply turn into another place to “be”, and driving will be just another thing that happens nearby while you neglect it. Even if laws are written to make the licensed human responsible for monitoring the trip at all times, you know what’s going to happen. People will do (and get caught doing) everything that humans can indulge in while riding around in the it-drives-itself car.

Everything.

Just let your imagination run wild with that one.

Autonomous Autos? I can’t wait! Pre-order your Sherpa Impervious at Wally’s Intimida today, and let our circuits do the driving tomorrow!

What one rule would you be sure to include in the laws that govern driverless cars?

Cover Girl

Today’s post comes from perennial sophomore Bubby Spamden.

Hey Mr. C.,

What do you know about Saturn?

I have to do a report on it. It’s, like, my most favorite planet, but that doesn’t mean I know anything about it. It’s just, y’know. Beautiful.

Kinda like Angie, who is a volleyball star here at Wilkie and who makes me think of a giraffe, but pretty. I’m kinda sure I love her even though I don’t actually know if she’s nice or not. I’ve never had the chance (courage) to talk to her directly. Her friends say she’s really down-to-earth but they’re her friends, what do you expect? It would be worth telling a lie to stay close to Angie. Although why would they would think they had to lie to me about her being nice in order to stay friends with her? Maybe Angie does like me after all if she’s telling her peeps to lie to impress me!

If she even knows who I am, which I’m pretty sure she doesn’t.

I”m kind of all over the place with my thinking right now.

Anyway, Saturn. What is there to say about it other than, “Wow, is that a gorgeous planet, or what?” I hear it’s kind of cold and gaseous, which wouldn’t be very nice qualities in a person. But get a load of this picture!

How can you not be impressed with that? Of course, that’s how Saturn looks from 1.3 million miles away. I’ll bet if you were kissable close it wouldn’t be nearly as nice. I’d like to try, though. But there are so many moons! Lots of competition, just getting into an orbit. You’d probably feel like a chump. Do you think those rings are real? I don’t see how anything could be so perfect.

Anyway, time for bed. Let me know if you’ve got any advice for my report on Angie.

Saturn, I mean.

Your friend,
Bubby

Who was your first crush?

Volumes on Sleep

I know you’re tired, but here’s another article about how we should get more sleep.

Prop your eyes open, take a moment, and read it. Or at least start it before your FIRST SLEEP and then finish it after you wake up and before you start your SECOND SLEEP.

Segmented sleep is going to be the latest trend. We used to call it insomnia but now waking up at midnight is natural and right and we will all want to change our schedules so we can do more of it – especially since long-dead medieval people are now telling us that the wakeful interlude between sleeps is the best time for sex. We have generally dismissed medieval wisdom but now that they’re giving us advice for the boudoir, we’re allowing them all kinds of sexy credit. After all, they had to have relations with other smelly medieval people thousands of years before we started putting cocoanut scented body wash in squeeze bottles. That couldn’t have been easy! Must have known a few tricks back then.

There’s lots in the New York Times about sleep problems. Obviously something is keeping the NY Times editors awake – severe sleep deprivation may be the only thing they have in common with Rick Perry. But the research appears to be undeniable that something fundamental happens inside the brain when it is asleep – something consolidating that makes thinking clearer.

Since no one is really listening, now is as good a time as any to re-issue my call for the candidates to take the lead on these insomniac issues by embracing the idea of more sleep research and by actually being brave enough to sleep in public.

Yes, in public.

Let’s put Obama and Romney in a hot middle school gym and subject them to a string of endless, praiseful speeches given by local potentates. If either candidate is truly human, he will nod off. In this way the next President can immediately and unconsciously get a head start on leading the nation towards more healthy sleep patterns. And he could de-mystify the taboo about conking out in a public place.

Yes, the “optics” would be bad, especially for those who think the president should always appear to be in control, super alert and otherworldly.

But I say let it go. No matter who wins, the President of The United States and your weird uncle Ted are made of the same stuff. They need their naps, especially in the afternoon. Some people don’t want to see their leader unconscious, but for the rest of us – a snoozing Prez may be just the image we need to restore our confidence that the head of state will have his head on straight when he wakes up.

When have you benefitted from “sleeping on it”?