A Rock To Tie A String Around

Just a very quick announcement  – The Tree Museum has landed!  You can now find it online at all the usual places, Barnes and Noble, Amazon – and by order pretty much anywhere!  We were originally thinking it wouldn’t be out until July, but the book got impatient and distributed itself.

So do your part for the economy today and buy!  Buy books!  Buy lots of books!  But a copy for your whole family!  Review it on Amazon and Barnes and Noble!  Get the cover tattooed on your forearm!  Start a secret society inspired by The Tree Museum!  Or maybe just read it and enjoy…..whatever’s easier.

Every once in awhile I have this sick feeling that my mom Forrest Gumped me when I was a kid – you know, how Forrest’s mom refused to acknowledge that he was a little ‘special’ and raised him to think he was just like everyone else, and then it wasn’t until he was a grown up that Forrest began to suspect something was up?  Every once in awhile I think my mom might have done this very same thing to me, and I’m just now realizing the true implication of ‘stupid is as stupid does’.

Here are a few examples to prove my point, and granted some of them date back a few years, but I’m feeling particularly dense today, so here it goes:

1.    A few years ago I was working backstage at a theatre company, during a little bit of downtime during tech week I was chatting with one of actresses.  At the time I lived just a few miles from work and rode my bike – with traffic it took around fifteen to twenty minutes.  Okay, so the actress asks me how far away I live that I have the luxury of biking into work.  In my brain I answer ‘twenty minutes’ but my mouth says ‘twenty miles’.  Her jaw drops at my apparently phenomenal physical prowess and she says “But, but you ride twenty miles into work every day?”  I respond with ‘Yeah, no big deal, it doesn’t take long at all!”   Quite rightly not believing me, she continues to question me, all the while my mouth never quite catching up to my brain.  Finally, after unraveling my story she determines that I do indeed live twenty minutes away, not twenty miles away….after that day she was always very, very nice to me.  Forrest Gump nice.   The really absurd part was that I truly didn’t realize what I had said until it was too late to correct it.  That is why this is evidence item #1.

2.    We bought a used car a few years ago after our Mazda melted on the 405.  Our new, well newish car had only 15,000 miles on it.  For us, that is truly a luxury vehicle.  We get it home, a couple of days go by and I go outside and start the engine.  Then I look down at the odometer and instead of seeing 15,000 – my Gump brain reads 150,000.  I have absolutely no defense for this.  We didn’t have the baby yet, so I can’t plead sleep deprivation, I wasn’t under the influence of anything stronger than coffee…no excuse.  I call CarMax, irrationally raging mad and demand to be connected to the manager.  I rip the manager a new one about selling us a car with 150,000 miles on it.  He very calmly tells me to bring the car in and they will remedy the problem.  I storm down to the garage, jump in the car ready to drive over there and show them what’s up, when my brain corrects itself and once again sees 15,000.  I called and apologized, sheepishly apologized.  The CarMax manager was also very, Forrestesque nice to me.  Too nice considering the temper tantrum I had thrown.

3.    Number three is really the strongest piece of evidence I have that I was gumped.  I can’t remember it, I know it’s there, in fact this very incident inspired this blog topic, and now I can’t remember what it was.  It was recent, I can tell you that much….hmmm…

How young is too young for Alzheimer’s?

I’m all for technology, but I have to admit I have a paranoid side to me that’s fueled by bad sci-fi movies and late night television.  Part of my paranoia has always been to imagine that people could actually hear what I’m thinking and therefore would immediately lock me up or at the very least move to the other side of the sidewalk.  The scary part is that I don’t necessarily think I’m unusual in the sense that my thoughts sometimes go from random to ewww with little to no provocation.  After all, back in the day they made whole Seinfeld episodes about this very thing – anyone remember Elaine pondering whether she would get away with murdering the cable guy?

So you can imagine the jump my paranoia took today when I heard on Ron Reagan on Air America talking to a scientist about this new technology that actually records your brain’s reaction to certain letters and therefore allows people who cannot move to actually ‘type’ messages via computer.  This opens up the door for these individuals to express themselves on Twitter, message boards, communicate with their friends and loved ones, all sorts of applications and uses.

The way it works is pretty simple, they hook EEG sensors to your head and the computer records the jumps in activity as they correspond to particular letters.  Yeah, it’s pretty slow going.  But it makes me wonder, how accurate are the messages they get?  And more to the point – when you are measuring raw reaction, how much can be censored?

I’m just speaking for myself, but I think a lot of things during the day that really shouldn’t be said.  For example, today as I was listening to one of my senior high school students tell me why he had missed two weeks of school and why he should be allowed to pass even though he has no intention of reading the class novel – I was thinking about what I had packed for lunch, I was trying to remember if I had made peanut butter and jelly or honey…..hmmmm…. and when is lunch?  Twelve o’clock today?  Or are we on the late bell schedule?  Hmm…..something smells funny in here, my feet are hot, I shouldn’t have worn these shoes, I wonder if this kid could keep whining if I started shooting staples at him….what would he do?  Act surprised?  Stop talking; it’s worth a shot….

My point is this, as I was reaching for the stapler, I stopped myself.  I was safe because no one had actually heard what I was about to do.  The kid kept up his whine-streak; I listened patiently, and then responded way more appropriately than I would have had I been hooked up to an EEG that was feeding my thoughts directly to the internet.

When I was a kid my mom used to load me up in the car and take me on vacation to exotic locals such as Southern Wyoming and New Mexico.   Not that I’m complaining, not really.  I realize in my grown-up brain that these seemingly random car trips represented the only possible venue for spring break in my house.  As a kid it didn’t occur to me that gas station meals of nachos and strawberry milk eaten in roadside motels wasn’t exactly fine dining.  But as an adult, I have come to terms with the fact that these trips were, well, no offense mom, but maybe a little crappy.

In an attempt to broaden my perspective and heighten my appreciation for my mom’s vacations, I did a little research on some real life tourist hellholes.  Enjoy.

1.    Papua New Guinea:  You can go diving, enjoy a variety of cruises wherein you will see the coral reefs, fish for rare and exotic fish, hike along the Kokoda trail while enjoying the breath taking scenery.  The only problem you ask?  Cannibals.  Yes friends, cannibals.  According to variety of reputable news sources, Smithsonian being perhaps the most recent, cannibalism is still practiced by the remote tribes that you might just meet along the Kokoda trail or see from the deck of your cruise ship.  Here’s a hint though, according to www.bild.com white people taste too salty and smell too strongly.  So no matter your ethnicity, my advice before going to Papua New Guinea would be to eat a salt lick and rub yourself in Old Spice.

But venture on brave ones, check them out here: http://www.pngtourism.org.pg/
Here’s that Smithsonian article for the curious: http://www.smithsonianmag.com/travel/cannibals.html

2.    Iran.  Yes, I said Iran.  Ever wanted to visit  Chogha Zambil Temple?  Bistoon Relief?  Ever worry that despite their somewhat vague and not quite as welcoming as it could be web site, they might not like us?  Never fear, you can stay at beautiful accommodations such as the…okay, well, maybe no hotels actually show up on their website.  Hmmm….I’m sure it’s nice, after all, isn’t Tehran known to be a tourist mecca?

Here’s their address: http://www.tourismiran.ir/en/Index.aspx

3.    Juarez Mexico:  What’s not to love?  No need to fly, you can drive right over the border!  Enjoy fine dining, lively nightlife, and authentic music.  Why isn’t everyone flocking to Juarez you might ask?  It might have something to do with a little something called ‘feminicidios’ which en anglais translates to the mass murder of Mexican women in the Juarez over the last thirteen years that has gone largely unchecked and unsolved.  But don’t let that deter you ladies, while the Juarez tourism site acknowledges that they are known as ‘the city of death’ they also want us to know that ‘the whole truth is much more complicated’

But I’ll let you be the judge: http://www.juarez-mexico.com/

4.    Baghdad:  haven’t you been watching Fox News?  It’s totally safe now!  In fact, it’s beyond safe, bring the kids, bring the grandparents!  You can stay at the beautiful Marble Palace, or the only other listing on the Baghdad tourism site, described only as ‘countryside.’  Dine at the luxurious Maarsgourf Restaurant, get a ringside seat as you see democracy unfold around you, bring a camera.

Here’s the information to make your dream trip come true: http://www.igougo.com/travel_guide-l9515-Baghdad_tourism.html

5.    Somalia:  yes, I’ve saved the best for last.  While Somalia’s one man tourist bureau admits that there hasn’t been a single formally acknowledged tourist in fourteen years in Somalia, largely due to the anarchy and destruction that has wracked the country since 1990, Abdi Jimale Osman, Somalia’s minister of Tourism, wants us to know that “Tourists can still go and see the former beautiful sights,” he says. “The only problem is they’re all totally destroyed.”  He also offers up these encouraging words: “I’m sure tourists would leave Somalia alive and I’m hopeful they wouldn’t be kidnapped,” he says. “At least, we would try to make sure they were not kidnapped, although it can happen.”  The good news is that you can travel cheap, after all, a grenade only runs you roughly $10 American dollars in Mogadishu, can you imagine how drunk you could get for $5?

But, enough from me, you be the judge: http://www.economist.com/displayStory.cfm?story_id=2482161

In short, I owe Mom an apology.  I thought Cuba, New Mexico was somewhat boring as a seven year old.  But, was I kidnapped?  Was I made into a stew?  Was I sleeping in luxurious accommodations in the hotel ‘countryside’?  The answer is no.  Sorry mom, I never realized how good I had it.

I just learned about the Northern Pacific Gyre, also known as the Great Pacific Garbage Patch or the Trash Vortex.  I nearly drove straight off the freeway as I was listening to talk radio the other day and Ron Reagan began describing this island of plastic that contains over 100 million tons of refuse – mostly plastic and exists just 500 nautical miles off the California coast.

How did I not know this?  Why doesn’t everyone know this?  And more importantly, why aren’t we in a white-hot panic about it?  Every since the other afternoon I have been inventorying all the plastic in my house.  It’s astounding how much plastic goes into our daily lives.  All the baby’s bottles, cups, bowls, spoons are plastic.  Most of our household appliances are at least 90% plastic, our food is housed in plastic bags and containers, all my lotions, bottles of facial wash, everything exists in plastic.

It’s made me wonder what we did before plastic took over our houses and lives?  It’s a relatively new invention in terms of human civilization, so there must have been a way to exist before it was invented.

According to the research I’ve been frantically doing, there are scientists that theorize that the trash vortex represents a new type of hybrid ecosystem.  I have to agree with them.  As I have been reading the plastic actually acts as a type of sponge for all the pollutants in the water, the fish eat the plastic, we eat the fish, and hence we are on the road to becoming our own trash.

I think we’re panicking about the wrong environmental disasters.  I can’t think of anything scarier right now than a 100 million ton plastic island that will never break down, never disappear, it will only grow in size.  Screw the fossil fuel crisis, screw the ozone, forget the rainforest, we’re all going to be knee deep in old milk jugs and candy wrappers in ten years.  The scary part is that short of shooting it all into outer space…what in the world will we do with it all?

Sometimes I feel like a moron, and before you agree with me, allow me to explain why I feel this way  just some of the time and not all of the time.  There have been several occasions over the last couple of weeks where I’ve been baffled by the utter lack of logic and coherence to other people’s arguments.  I’ve been baffled to the point that I’ve started wondering if maybe I’m the crazy one, I’ll let you be the judge.

1.    The Four-Day School Week:  As I’m sure many of you are painfully aware; Los Angeles Unified School District is sagging under the weight of California’s enormous budget deficit and has decided to lay off over 3,500 teachers and staff.  This sucks, big time sucks.  Not even trying to lessen the degree of suckage – however, one of the solutions that’s floating around my particular school is the proposal of a four-day school week to save on resources and transportation costs.
The general idea is that we work four ten-hour days and then have one off, and the extra money we’re saving will go toward saving the teachers who are facing layoffs.

Talk to me like I’m a first grader on this one but if we’re using ten hours of lights, water and air conditioning for four days instead of eight hours of the those same resources for five days…. isn’t that the same amount of waste – just parceled out in a different manner?

Plus everyone is excited about this proposal because the word on the street is that we could opt to teach an extra class on the fifth day for extra pay.  Okay, so aren’t we using more money on this plan?  You have to pay for the extra resources and then you have to pay me for my overtime…. not to mention the psychiatrist who treats me after I’ve had a complete nervous breakdown from overwork.

2.    The Costco Line cutter:  Okay, so I’m in line at Costco – and if you’ve ever gone to Costco on a weekend, you know how hard I fought not only to do the shopping but also to end up in line.  It’s an all day event.  So, I’m in line behind a couple of ladies who are having an extraordinarily difficult time with the cashier process.  I finally have all my purchases loaded onto the conveyer belt, the economy-sized jugs of rum are safely wedged between the vegetables, I’m confidant the baby formula will keep the tequila from tipping over….

And…. along comes two more women who are vaguely connected to the two in front of me.  They proceed to begin moving my stuff back and placing their overfull cart of surplus cheese and pretzel snacks on the belt in front of mine.  Before I can even object, the cashier stops them.  They look baffled that they can’t just jump on in…..  Then, they curse me out in Russian…. at least, I’m guessing it was Russian.

Okay, so maybe those are the only two illogical arguments I can think of at the moment….maybe it’s kind of illogical to create a list for only two items….