+6¢

The details seem a bit sketchy still, but it looks like my last one or two letters to Claire are going to cost an additional six cents to send to Spain, up from the 84¢ I'm paying now. (New rates are going into effect on 14 May.)

Bravery

It's Saint Patrick's day, and downtown Syracuse has been awash with alcohol and drunks since the parade ended around 1 o'clock. I walked home for dinner at 6:00, and if I were to guess, I'd say that 3 out of 4 pedestrians and 1 out of 4 drivers was seriously toasted. To make matters worse, it's been snowing lightly for the last day or so, and the driving conditions are less than ideal.

I started to cross Clinton Street when I got the white walking-man light, and about a third of the way across I noticed that the car approaching me from the left (in the center lane of a one-way street) wasn't showing signs of slowing down. My mind was elsewhere, so after missing a half-stride to confirm that I had the right-of-way, I kept on walking, and the car slammed on its breaks, sliding through the slush to a halt a few feet past the stop line, and a few feet closer to me that I would have liked. I finished crossing and realized that I'd had an audience on the other side. One guy said to me, "You've got balls! You've got balls of steel!" and then he turned and announced to all present, "This guy's got balls of steel!"

Sitting on the dancefloor

Dad and I went to the Year Zero listening party at Varsity Theater in Dinkytown on Tuesday evening, where we got to hear the new Nine Inch Nails album a little over a month before its release.  We spotted the venue easily, since it was marked with a long cue of college-aged kids dressed predominantly in black.  Dad and I did not fit in at all, as I was wearing a tan shirt and (non-baggy) blue jeans and Dad was wearing a grey hoodie.  We found that the "theater" was more of a club, with a small stage, a bar in back, and seating around a sizable dance floor.  We sat down soon enough to snag an edge of the risers, but those after us were left with the dance floor.  The evening started with a video, and the rather subdued crowd quickly sat down on the floor to ensure those behind them a view, so the floor was soon filled with moody-looking college students sitting cross-legged for the whole event.

The album seemed good.  It definitely started fast and grew slower, almost with each song, and the slower songs were more difficult to judge since the sound system didn't deliver very good mid-range frequencies.  Songs that I've heard on the internet like "Me, I'm Not," didn't sound as good, so I can only expect that the unfamiliar songs were being given less than flattering treatment as well.  Dad and I both thought that "Vessel" and "God Given" have great potential.  We left just as "Zero-Sum" was finishing, so I didn't get a very good feeling for the general response, but I'm guessing that enthusiasm peaked before the series of consecutive quieter tracks finished the album.

Small request

My flight from Syracuse to Detroit was delayed because our plane arrived at Syracuse quite late. We didn't get airborne until an hour or so after our scheduled departure time, so I knew that my connection would be very tight, and probably impossible. I didn't let myself worry, and spent as much of the flight as possible sound asleep. Around the time the plane started to descend and we were asked to take our seats, the gentleman next to me in seat 10-E pressed the call button, and a flight attendant came to our row. He noted that the flight was getting in rather late, and he requested that the flight attendant call ahead to Detroit, to let them know that we were getting in a bit late. She assured him that the Detroit terminal was already aware of our status, but he wasn't satisfied. He suggested that she call them to make sure that they hold the planes for a few more minutes. She looked at him blankly for a couple seconds, before murmuring that those decisions would already have been made and slipping away, back towards first class. I was half tempted to tell the bloke that I didn't think anyone would hold a plane for someone who was sitting in the middle seat in coach, but I held my tongue.

Sure enough, I missed my flight and was delayed two hours. I coaxed Northwest into printing off a couple food vouchers, which I blew on a weak margarita. I can't complain, though: even with the delays, commercial flight is still fastest way across the continent in, you know, history.

Luna obscura

The earth may be obscuring the sun from the moon, but the clouds are definitely obscuring the moon from Syracuse.

Total Eclipse of the Moon
SYRACUSE, NEW YORK
W 076°08' N 43°02'
Eastern Standard Time
..........................................Moon's
......................................Azimuth Altitude
Moonrise.............2007 Mar 03 17:50 080.4° ----
Middle of eclipse....2007 Mar 03 18:20 085.6° 04.7°
Moon leaves totality.2007 Mar 03 18:58 091.8° 11.1°
Moon leaves umbra....2007 Mar 03 20:11 105.0° 23.9°
Moon leaves penumbra.2007 Mar 03 21:25 120.5° 35.8°
Moonset..............2007 Mar 04 06:52 275.4° ----

Syracuse Hancock International, New York (KSYR)
Date/Time.........WIND......VIS..WX.........SKY......CEL...TMP
3/3/2007 18:00:00 NNW 03mph 05mi Light Snow Overcast 01900 34°
3/3/2007 19:00:00 WNW 13mph 10mi ---------- Overcast 05000 34°
3/3/2007 20:00:00 WNW 13mph 09mi Light Snow Overcast 04200 33°
3/3/2007 21:00:00 WNW 15mph 10mi ---------- Overcast 07000 31°

Iceland

Walking home from studio was a harrowing experience; the evening's cool rain solidified into a all-encompassing layer of ice. Where the water pooled on the sidewalks the ice crushed forgiving underfoot. Where the water spread thinly the ice became hard, slick, and treacherous. My usual ten-minute walk turned into twenty, and all the trees creaked ominously, occasionally showering me with small shards of ice. I'm sorry that I'll be returning to the studio before the sun has a chance to clear my way for me.

Good luck and 660GB

FedEx came by with Plumtree earlier than anticipated, and I was still in bed. Nate, who overslept and missed his bus, happened to hear the knock and was able to sign for me. UPS showed up with the new hard drives soon after, miraculously catching me between my shower and my departure. So, by great fortune, I have my computer (mostly fixed!) and enough disk space to last me the rest of 2007. This seems good.

When running on full is more like running on empty

Last night I brought to the computer lab Iaroslav, an 80GB LaCie which was the first of my line of external hard drives and houses my photograph archive, including a couple photos I needed but were not on Saint Gleb, which, as my newest 250GB addition, houses most of my current work. Theo, a fellow Minnesotan in this Masters program, asked me why I needed two. I told him that my archives exceeded the size of either disk, and he seemed a bit dubious, having been able to get his work from many years onto a portion of a comparably sized disk.  To make sure that I wasn't deluding myself, I checked Saint Gleb's remaining free space, and unpleasantly surprised to discover that I was down to my last 550MB. A quick trip to Amazon.com became essential, so I'm expecting another pair of 250 gigabyters within the week.

All my hard drives are named after the children of Vladislav I, ruler of Kievan Rus. Iaroslav and Mstislav came first.  Saint Boris and Saint Gleb made the second pairing. I think these two will be Stanislav and Sudislav, since I'm not quite prepared to honor Sviatopolk.  Maybe these two will be the last of this family.

Black and red and white all over

Shield thine eyes before visiting The Daily Pork:  The appearance of the site is rather...intense, but then again, so is their passion for pork.

Der mächtige Ozean!

Martin and I are screening Ocean films this spring! Here's the line-up:

14 Feb – Jaws
21 Feb – The Endurance
28 Feb – A Night to Remember
07 Mar – Riding Giants
21 Mar – The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou
28 Mar – The Sea Hawk
04 Apr – Yellow Submarine
11 Apr – Das Boot

Just missing the boat (so to speak), were the Japanese short "Glassy Ocean" and the pilot of the short-lived television series Fishing With John.

Return to the mother ship

Plumtree is travelling back to the manufacturer today for a new motherboard. Hopefully for real this time. Sigh.

Jôurneiing thrugh Sneue for Gōd Ale

Nate and I made a snowy trek this afternoon to Middle Ages Brewing Co., which is located just blocks northwest of the Warehouse. The place isn't much to see with it's grey walls and complete lack of pre-renaissance atmosphere, but there was a health mass of people at the tasting bar despite it being the middle of the afternoon on a weekday—almost as many people as were there when we first visited on a Saturday afternoon last month. While the place is lacking in ambiance, the beer is very good and reasonably priced, especially in the 64-ounce growlers that everyone at the bar had in tow. Nate and I filled up with Middle Ages Pale Ale and Wizard's Winter Ale, which will be making their way to the dinner table, livening up our meals in the coming week.

Who's your yddad?

By now most of the country is probably familiar with the 9-year old kid who ran away from home and lied his way from Washington to Texas via Southwest Airlines. (I've included below an opinion column that gives a very good recap.) Despite a complete lack of evidence I have an inkling that the kid's father—apparently not a regular part of the kid's life—shares my first name.

Maternal instinct flew off to La-La Land

Robert L. Jamieson Jr., Seattle Post-Intelligencer

It's not every day that people get played by a sweet-faced 9-year-old.

One who has the bravado to steal a car in Tacoma and lead authorities on a dangerous high-speed chase.

One who showed smarts to get past security at Sea-Tac Airport.

One who duped Southwest Airlines to fly away to Texas because he needed to get away -- just like the airline ad says.

For his adventures last week, 4-foot-9 Semaj Booker was charged with two felonies and a misdemeanor.

I wrote that Pierce County prosecutors should take into consideration his tender age before coming down too hard.

They say they have never charged a 9-year-old. Consideration for the age of the thin fourth-grader ought to soften the blow of justice, right? I was on the fence, leaning toward leniency.

Now I'm beginning to be swayed by those hardened law-and-order types, especially after a national TV tabloid picked up the story, then aired an interview Wednesday featuring Semaj and his mother.

Some of the comments aired. Others were released earlier in the day by "Inside Edition."

Semaj came off remorseless. Even stranger, his mom, Sakinah Booker, exuded maternal pride over his exploits. The whole thing leaves you shaking your head.

The interview could have been a lens onto a lesson learned between a mother and child.

But what happened left a thought: When should you be able to revoke someone's parental license?

I figured the mother and son would spend the bulk of their airtime apologizing to the person whose car got stolen; to authorities who pursued Semaj in the chase; to airport security and airline officials who already have their hands full with terror fears.

But, instead we got an "attaboy" topped with a tepid mother-and-son hug, and his mother saying with a smile, "Don't ever do it again!"

Rather than holding her son accountable for actions that could have harmed others, we hear her admiration for his precocity.

In a quote released earlier Wednesday, the mother said her son showed her that "'I'm going to achieve anything I want to do; I'm going to just do it.'"

Family values have just left the building, folks.

"I planned it all out in advance," Semaj said during the interview, although that comment also did not air. But the statement will no doubt interest prosecutors, who want to know if Semaj had the mental capacity to understand what he is accused of doing.

On the air, Semaj said he went to Texas because "it's always sunny."

The day after the car chase ended -- he was found behind the wheel of a stolen Acura that knocked into a tree -- he thoughtfully hopped a bus to the airport.

He said on the air that he scanned the airport monitors and briefly contemplated catching a flight to Tokyo -- where the street-racing movie, "The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift" is set. Thanks to "Inside Edition," we know he's a fan of the film's high-speed car maneuvers.

"You can drift there," he told the program. "And the cops don't care."

The television show described how Semaj noticed Southwest had the most flights to Texas, then got lucky when he heard the airline page a passenger who had lost his ticket.

He told "Inside Edition" that he walked up to the counter, identified himself as the passenger, Frank, then got a boarding pass, and breezed by a security checkpoint.

(A Southwest Airlines spokeswoman told me Wednesday night the report of the page "is news to us.")

Semaj eventually got caught and was detained in a Texas center for runaways until his mom came and got him a few days ago.

That the pair chose a tabloid television program for their public soapbox speaks volumes.

"Inside Edition" said it paid for Semaj's mother to go to Texas for the blissful reunion.

I put it this way because mother and son seem to be blissfully ignorant of the peeved and aggrieved people -- a car-theft victim, airport officials and prosecutors -- Semaj left behind.

The whole episode sends Semaj the wrong message -- if you do wrong, you land on national TV basking in the glow of mommy love.

The kid needs to be grounded. If his mom won't do it, prosecutors should.

Prosecutors last night said they are going forward with the criminal charges -- including theft and eluding -- against Semaj, who has returned to the area.

"I believe minds are going to differ on this," Prosecutor Fred Wist said of the decision.

Yes. But this bright youth needs to learn that life is neither a video game, nor a movie, nor a tabloid TV show.

There are real consequences for reckless actions. It's not child's play. Better learn it now, not later.

(As a high school student I would have my American Mathematics Competition public score posting attributed to Iksokopeh Semaj.)

Abducted

I finally got my Alienware back after sending it in for repair on 18 December, and I'm sad to report that those dunderhead technicians proved wholly useless once again, as they returned the system unchanged.

...or are you just burning to see me?

Fire in man's pants not started by phone

The Associated Press

VALLEJO, Calif. – A fire that started in a man's pants pocket, critically injuring him and destroying his hotel room, was not ignited by a cell phone as authorities suspected, phone technicians said.

Nokia Corp. engineers found that the charred device still worked Wednesday and convinced fire department investigators that it had not spontaneously ignited in Luis Picaso's pocket.

"He could have been smoking a cigarette, the cigarette fell into his pocket, and it started on fire," Vallejo fire inspector Bill Tweedy said. "We don't know that. We weren't there."

The fire caused about $75,000 in damage to the residential hotel and a ground-floor business. Picaso, 59, was in critical condition Thursday with second- and third-degree burns to his upper body, right arm and right leg.

The fire apparently started in Picaso's pants pocket while he slept on a plastic lawn chair in his room, authorities said. Picaso is under heavy sedation and doesn't seem to remember what happened, Tweedy said.

The usual suspects

I have about as much respect for the Grammy Awards as the creators of the Simpson's do

(Homer: Mr. John, I'm your biggest fan. I tape-recorded all your songs off the radio.
Elton: Oh, that's very sweet. Have a Grammy. (produces one from nowhere)
Homer: Uh … (throws it in a garbage can)),

but somehow I think I'll find it in me to hate the Recording Academy just a little more if the sissy boys of Stone Sour beat Mastondon for Best Metal performance.

At the movies

I'm just back from Curse of the Golden Flower a Chinese piece of palace intrigue and occasional martial arts. It's only the most recent of a long string of films I've seen lately. In theater I've attended: Apocalypto, The Fountain, The Prestige and Casino Royale. On video I've watched: Das Boot, The Bourne Supremacy, Miami Vice, Lucky Number Slevin, Thank You For Smoking, The Big Blue, The Perfect Storm, and Man of Aran. I'd recommend Wolfgang Petersen's Das Boot to just about anybody who can handle subtitles and Mel Gibson's Apocalypto to anyone who can stomach very graphic violence; both are well crafted and highly potent films.

By the numbers

Claire and I celebrated a year-and-a-half together with a lunch at Wolfgang Puck's 20.21 in the new Walker Art Center. We were already visiting the building so that I could shoot some video for a project I'm working on for a professor, so the restaurant lent itself to our cause quite readily. We both enjoyed the pan-Asian cuisine, which managed to take enough pleasantly unexpected turns to set the menu apart from, say, the local LeeAnn Chin. The pot-stickers we ordered for an appetizer came with a vinaigrette instead of the usual soy sauce concoction, and the lettuce wraps had a much more complex blend of vegetables than I've tasted in similar dishes. I wouldn't make a special trip to 20.21, but I was pleased to find that the food justified the high costs that one normally finds in art museum restaurants.

More spectacular was 112 Eatery, which we visited this evening as my official (albeit delayed) birthday dinner. I started out with duck & radicchio salad, which was heavy to the (very delicious) dressing, but the entrées Mom, Dad, and I ordered (tagliarini w/ blue prawns & vin santo, nori encrusted sirloin w/ ponzu, and pork tenderloin w/ sweet potatoes & Roquefort butter, respectively) were truly spectacular. Laura, never quite as adventurous, ordered the 112 cheese burger, which managed to frustrate her with its exotic array of cheeses. She was happy, however, with the cauliflower fritters, a side we all shared. More than once we felt that the familiar food in front of us (sirloin, sweet potato, cauliflower, or other) was better prepared than anything we'd previously experienced.

Live from UWEC

I'm visiting Eau Claire, and Claire is presently taking her final exam of the semester. I came into this computer lab to check my email and remind myself the order of the electron shells (Wikipedia tells me it's s p d f g—Claire and I couldn't remember g). I managed to get around to it eventually, but I first managed to get myself involved in editing a cover letter for one Joseph T. Jensen, who is graduating this weekend and is searching for a job in the mortgage-lending business. I helped him with his wording (active voice!), cleaned up his punctuation, and showed him that there are better fonts than Times New Roman. I always get a kick out of people's reactions when they're looking over my shoulder as I write/edit.  I'm sure I'd react similarly if I had the change to peer over the shoulder of Stephen King or maybe Thomas Pynchon, whose exquisitely-written Against the Day I'm beginning to read.

Ruining the barrel

While I'm always pleased when someone gives Apple—a company that seems monomaniacally determined to dull their customers' intellect—a good bashing, this site run by Greenpeace is perhaps too depressing to be purely amusing. Despite my utter disdain for iPods, iTunes, and Mac OS, I've been very impressed with the new MacBook's size and power, so I'm frustrated to learn that it's a mini eco-disaster. Hopefully Apple will clean up their act soon: I'd like to have my options wide open when I buy my next notebook in three or four years.