Growing Backward

I think that I have a genetic propensity toward collecting things–which makes as much sense as everything else that people like to claim happen entirely because of genetics. All my life I have collected ‘stuff,’ be it models and toys, comic books (which runs hot and cold) and currently busts.

Bowen Designs makes some of the best as far as I am concerned, though there are a few other makers out there as well. Collecting them combines two of my favorite passions: My on-again, off-again love affair with comics, and staturary. My latest bust (to be part of a Moving Picture Show slideshow soon) is of Whirlwind (He of the green helmet above. Speaking of which, I have no idea why he wears it. I always assumed that it was because the centrifugal forces generated by his vortex would deprive him of oxygen without some way of protecting himself).

He’s a villain, and one of my earliest exposures to superheroes. He is literally a living whirlwind, his lower half a roiling funnel of air, propelling him forward at terrific speeds.

Perhaps the idea of a man that controls tornadoes is silly, but when you’re nine or ten years old reading about such beings, it makes perfect sense.

And strangely enough, despite growing up, it still makes sense.

Someone said that when you get older, you have to discard childish things. As far as I am concerned, to give up what make the child in you happy is to not get older, but to get old.

Give me Peter Pan any day.

Summertime

Few things say ‘Summer’ more than a cold, lively beer and a beautiful, blue sky day. I thought that thought as I lay on my terrace, drinking the aforementioned beer, sunning myself.

Life can be infinitely more complex, but why would anyone want it to be?

A Woman's Work

The famous poster, ‘Rosie the Riveter (to the left), created by J. Howard Miller during World War II seems to me to be remarkably similar in feel to the picture of Wanda Burke (below), which is part of a series of photos (there is at least one other) from the American Wind Energy Association (AWEA), which promotes the building of wind turbines.

What I dig about both photos is that they both deal with women taking “untraditional” roles (one, the ‘Rosie the Riveter’ photo, could perhaps be described as a matter of necessity in that most men of age were fighting in WWII, so women had to assume many of their roles in the factories; while the photo of Wanda Burke is also necessary, and the ‘conflict’ she fights–a soldier in America’s march toward energy independence–is no less important).

The Crossing (don't go into the light)

I know that walking and reading aren’t the best things to do at the same time. After all, I work at a school and if you followed me around long enough you would probably catch me admonishing a student or two about it.

While that is good advice, for some reason I chose to ignore it today. This is probably because Bizarro, a comic by Dan Piraro, and Pooch Café, by Paul Guilligan, were particularly funny. So, as I read, I got closer and closer to the corner of East-West Highway and was about to cross over to Colesville Road. As I stepped into the street–still reading, by the way–a Honda Accord whizzed by, no more than five or six inches from slamming into me.

The light had not yet went green (it did a few seconds later. The car probably had sped up to make it before it changed).

Luckily I’m young enough to remember what it felt like to be invincible, but old enough to know that it isn’t so.

Despite occasionally walking and reading.

Who Are These 'Gideons' And Why Do They Leave Bibles In Hotel Rooms?

Who are these ‘Gideons’ and why are they leaving bibles in my (albeit temporary) hotel room? What if I were to leave a copy of the Koran in each hotel room? Why is it that Christians have this franchise opportunity locked down? What about the Jewish holy book? I don’t recall what that is, and to be honest I don’t really care all that much, though I would like to have a choice.

Who knows? I might be curious about some other religion. If that happens to be the case it would be really good if I could just open a drawer, and find a copy.

Though if hotels start to include the holy books from other religions, I still don’t know if they should include that from Scientologists because they haven’t in my view reached the critical mass of believers necessary to move beyond cult status.

Apple Knows All

I was running a few hours ago, and noticed something...in the past I have always had problems with the standard headphones that came with my iPod, and always assumed that this was a design flaw on the part of Apple.

Now keep in mind, this is a company known for their industrial design, so it’s pretty interesting that they would mess up something as integral to the music experience as the headphone.

Guess what? They didn’t.

I can’t speak for everyone that had problems with the comfort and wearability of Apple’s standard headphone (now the sound quality is another matter. it’s by no means bad but could be improved with perhaps greater bass response. As it stands the sound is relatively warm with decent high and low ends) but my problems were due to human error, as opposed to industrial design.

When I wore them in the past I would try to insert the earphone (the round section) into the opening of my ear canal, like below, in an attempt to seal my ear canal with the headphone and isolating me more from outside noises.





Of course this did not work, since it was not designed to be used in this manner. During my run I tried it like this:




Notice that the second method that the round section of the headphone is supported by my ear, and is actually very secure. And keep in mind, my routine includes sprinting as well as jumping, so if I say that this was secure I mean it and it would be perfect for anyone just walking about.

My only issues were that sometimes sweat would run into my ear canal, muting the sound from my left earphone.

Sometimes You're The Guy (Or Gal)

Have you been on your way to somewhere, when someone, in an effort to get by, virtually runs you down? These are the people that, when driving, are usually in a great hurry to gain just a few yards of space, racing to–I’ve always assumed–nowhere.

Usually I somewhat smugly sit in silent judgement over such people, as if on some level I was convinced of their actions being the result of a lack of some essential motivating force, or perhaps moral turpitude manifesting in a flaw that lie hidden just below the surface, till now.

Conversely, this enhanced my own feelings of rightness.

Such thoughts never left the privacy of my head, though I imagine that a perceptive person could have picked up on some reveal in the way I held my head, or the tilt of my mouth.

That is, till for a moment I became that person.

I was on the way to work, and the train had stopped at Fort Totten Station where I transfer from the Red to the Green Line; the next to last leg of my daily commute to work. There’re three escalators, one that leads to an upper level, which is soon followed by two more that lead to opposite ends of of the Red Line tracks. As I got on the escalator on the right, I looked up, and saw a flash of light on the grey concrete canopy that covered the platform against weather as the motorized staircase bore me upward.

I had seen this flash of light before, and I always connected it with the arrival of a train.

There were numerous people ahead of me, all of which happened to be women. From my perspective, none of the seemed particularly cognizant of the fact that a train had just pulled into the station.

Or perhaps they were taking the Red Line in the opposite direction, in which case that the train had pulled into the station going in the my way didn’t matter.

Though at that moment I wanted few things more than to catch that train. I knew that my feeling were somewhat irrational, though I had to film a presentation at work, and didn’t want to be late.

So I forced my way forward, engaging in way too much contact with these ladies as I tried to get around them.

I made the train, as did some of the women who were a few steps ahead of me, though my actions so shamed me that I did not sit anywhere near them.

Because, for a small moment, I had become those people I thought so little of.

Are You Fraggin' Kidding....

I was shopping at my local Safeway, when I saw this:

The first thing that came to mind was: “Are you fraggin’ kidding me?” I don’t know, but to my jaded eyes those look like Christmas decorations on Kleenex containers. Now there’s nothing wrong with Christmas decorations on products or the motif per se, though it’s May.

May! (visualize Sam Kenison at this point. If you haven’t seen ‘Back To School,’ rent it. It’s worth it for him alone)



Not September, not October, but May! I could be wrong, and the current climate change is perhaps disrupting my perception of the season, but isn’t it about to become summer?

I mean, it isn’t even winter yet!

UFO

I get the feeling that–in this country at any rate–people have forgotten about Gerry Anderson and how influencial his work has been in the world of science fiction (Sci-Fi). From Star Wars to Team America: World Police, his influence can be seen. A month or so ago I learned that he is moving out of Pinewood Studios (where I assume most of his films and television series have been produced), and working from home. I don’t quite know what to think of this development. I mean, perhaps it’s a good thing in that...you know, I can’t see how this is a good thing. I mean, how can it be a good thing that he’s auctioning off the props from some of his productions?

To me that sounds as if James Cameron were selling off some of the endoskeletons–that I am sure he has–from the Terminator films. Sure he could, but why would he have to if money weren’t an issue?

His last production, The New Captain Scarlet ran from 2003-2005, not too long ago but I haven’t even heard rumors of anything new.

Which is not the same as saying that nothing is happening.

Perhaps Jonathan Frakes had something to do with his current low profile. After all, his version of a Gerry Anderson property, The Thunderbirds, was so bad that Mr. Anderson would have nothing to do with it.

Which in hindsight was a very smart move.

The picture above is my version of SkyDiver from UFO, which I would like to imagine it would have looked like if the UFO feature film had come to fruition.

Rainy Days and Sundays

Another rainy day in Washington, DC. Saturday was a bit overcast, though what rain there was did not last long nor was it very heavy. I was able to do my weekly run with little in the way of water running down my face like a waterfall in miniature, obscuring my vision and making my footing less than sure as I raced across the grass. Today is different though. It has been raining since this morning, pretty heavy for the most part. As you can see from the picture to the left, the clouds remain ominous, and we probably are not yet done with the waterworks, though for the moment the rain god appears to have closed the tap.

Lately I am taking to heart the role rain plays in regulating the outside temperature, cleaning the air, as well as the water it provides to plants and animals. This way I am less ‘put out’ by the inconvenience of it.