My Dark Tower

Several years ago - I can't remember how many, perhaps three or four, but it doesn't matter - my daughter gave me for my birthday a copy of Stephen King's The Dark Tower, volume VII. When I asked her why she had bought that book, she told me 'because I know you like big books'. She was very young - perhaps ten years old or slightly less - and only had in mind giving her daddy a gift he would like. How would she know the journey that gift would set me upon?

I did not read the book immediately, but put it away. From time to time, when looking for something to read, I would take it out, but it didn't feel like the right choice, so I put it back. I was curious, but not curious enough. Then in the early days of 2011 I picked it up and decided to read it. Almost as quickly I realized I could not begin with the final volume of a seven-volume set. I happened to have an iPad with the Kindle app, so I used it to download the first volume in the series, The Gunslinger. Over the months that I moved through each volume, I traveled frequently, and would not have brought paper copies with me - they are just too heavy. That I finished the series so quickly is due entirely to having each volume on my iPad.

I was not consumed by the book, but I was pulled in. The first volume spun a wonderful tale and I proceeded to read through all seven volumes. I read them all on the iPad with the exception of volume VII. When the time came, I pulled that wonderfully large tome, with the marvelous and mysterious cover illustration, from my closet.

The Dark Tower series is wonderful, for so many reasons. The story is compelling and seemingly endless in plot twists. The characters are unforgettable. I especially like the notion of the ka-tet, the family formed between the main characters. It was such a compelling element that I cried in volume VII when the ka-tet began to fall apart.

While the Dark Tower series is a mixture of fantasy, science fantasy, western, and horror, in the end it is just about human beings. I see Dark Tower in all the everyday things that go on in my world. That's probably why I like the series so much. Dark Tower is probably not for everyone, but if you lie the first volume, as I did, you'll probably be pulled in. Thanks, Mr. King, for this wonderful tale. And thank you, Nadia!

Bolts & Nuts

I received the following email today. Perhaps they are confusing bolts & nuts with viruses? It's clearly spam, but one of the most amusing ones I've ever received.

I contacted you to know if you do sell Bolts & Nuts ? Please find my inquires below.

Specification
Plow Bolts
3/8-16 X 1 Plow Bolts / Grade 5 / Zinc
Quantity:2,500 Or (20 Cartons )

1/2-13 X 1 3/4 Plow Bolts / Grade 8 / Plain
Quantity:5,000 Or (10 Cartons )

Regular Square Nuts
1/4-20 Regular Square Nuts / Steel / Hot-Dip Galvanized
Quantity:20,000 Or (10 Cartons )

1/4-20 Regular Square Nuts / Steel / Zinc
Quantity:20,000 Or (10 Cartons )


Kindly Email me with total pick up price plus tax for both Plow Bolts and Regular Square Nuts without adding shipping cost to the total cost. In case you don't carry this size or types please let me know the ones you do sell with their prices. Also methods of payments you do accept in your establishment. Visa Card, Master Card, Amex.

Have An Awesome Day.

Solution to corrupt WAV

This past Friday my Zoom H4 battery died in the middle of recording TWiV #8. I had the recorder plugged into AC power, but the outlet strip was turned off. I turned on the power and we resumed recording. However, later that day, when I downloaded the .wav file from the H4, it would not open in Audacity or QuickTime. It was corrupted because it hadn't been saved properly when the H4 lost power.

The solution came from a google search: open the file from within Audacity as a 'raw' file. It opened properly and was completely editable. Saved. I didn't want to lose the nice conversation Dick and I had.

So in case this happens to anyone else, or if you have a corrupted audio file of any kind, try opening it in your DAW as a raw file.

It Ends Now

Got this from Daring Fireball. It could have been written about the current President. At the end, Gruber wrote: "It ends here, today". 

Hunter S. Thompson, September 1972:

The polls also indicate that Nixon will get a comfortable majority of the Youth Vote. And that he might carry all fifty states.

Well… maybe so. This may be the year when we finally come face to face with ourselves: finally just lay back and say it — that we are really just a nation of 220 million used car salesmen with all the money we need to buy guns, and no qualms at all about killing anybody else in the world who tries to make us uncomfortable.

The tragedy of all this is that George McGovern, for all his mistakes and all his imprecise talk about “new politics” and “honesty in government”, is one of the few men who’ve run for President of the United States in this century who really understands what a fantastic monument to all the best instincts of the human race this country might have been, if we could have kept it out of the hands of greedy little hustlers like Richard Nixon.

McGovern made some stupid mistakes, but in context they seem almost frivolous compared to the things Richard Nixon does every day of his life, on purpose, as a matter of policy and a perfect expression of everything he stands for.

Jesus! Where will it end?

I have a dream

I brought my daughter Nadia to work with me this past Tuesday. It was a school holiday. In the car, she asked me what day in the history of the world would I re-live. I could not come up with anything, so I asked her what hers would be.

She said she wanted to be at Martin Luther King's"I Have a Dream" speech in Washington, DC. 

I asked her why. She said it was so amazing every time he said "I have a dream" and his voice got higher and higher.

Turns out she has an mp3 of the speech on her computer, and loves to listen to it.

I know she learned about Mr. King in elementary school one year. I think it's very moving that she remembers and understands. It brought tears to my eyes.

London Birds

London Birds, originally uploaded by profvrr.

I think this is a great photo of Devin. I took it in London, across from the Houses of Parliament, in June this year. He was eating something out of a cup. As I snapped it three women walked by. He's so detached, he's cool.

Krakatau

What is the loudest noise on human record?

None other than the explosion of the volcano Krakatau (or Krakatoa, as I knew it in my youth) in 1883. The explosions were heard on Rodriguez Island, 4,653 km west, and in Australia, 3,450 km east.

As a child I was fascinated by Krakatoa. I recall reading over and over "The Twenty-One Balloons", by William Pene Du Bois, about a Professor who lands on the island and experiences the eruption.

What I learned today is that 50 years after the explosion, a new island emerged from the sea, called "Anak Krakatau", or child of Krakatau. Apparently it is growing 20 feet per year. Here is an article on the interesting development of this island. Wired also has an interesting summary of Krakatau, since today is the 225th anniversary of the 1883 eruption.

Eisenhower and the Complex

I'm reading Dave Winer's blog today at Scripting News, "Obama does mean change, here's why". He writes "There are truths to the way our country works that are never talked about on the national stage. Change is possible at that level, but those industries will still have a seat at the table when Obama is President. Eisenhower warned of it in his farewell speech. It's serious stuff. Bush gave into these people because he is one of them. His VP is a defense contractor."

So I had a look at Ike's farewell speech. Here is the relevant text:

"Until the latest of our world conflicts, the United States had no armaments industry. American makers of plowshares could, with time and as required, make swords as well. But now we can no longer risk emergency improvisation of national defense; we have been compelled to create a permanent armaments industry of vast proportions. Added to this, three and a half million men and women are directly engaged in the defense establishment. We annually spend on military security more than the net income of all United States corporations."

And a bit later on:

"In the councils of government, we must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military-industrial complex. The potential for the disastrous rise of misplaced power exists and will persist."

It's scary to think how prescient he was. It's also scary that our current President is completely under the control of this complex (as have been previous Presidents, no doubt).

Winer writes "We know at least that Obama is not one of them. Change? Big change."

I hope he is right. But the influence of the complex will always be there, as long as people continue to have wars. As they will.

Oil Rigs

Banner pulled by an airplane flying over the ocean yesterday, just off Lavallette:

"McCain wants oil rigs here...do you?"

Brilliant.

iPhone Dream

I have decided not to buy the new 3G iPhone. I think it's a great phone, but too expensive - the monthly plan, that is. Even the cheapest plan, after taxes, will be nearly $90 a month. Since the features are not essential, I will stick with my current RAZR until it fails.

Last night I had a dream about buying an iPhone. I was walking past an Apple store, when on a whim I walked in and got on line to buy an iPhone. Fortunately I woke up before I was able to buy it.

I suppose this dream means I really want one. Or all the iPhone coverage is embedding the device in my mind.

Happy Birthday

From Thursday until today I spent my time at a boy scout camp, where my son was for the week. Boy Scouts do a lot of singing and skits, as well as outdoor activities. Sometimes it can get corny, but for the most part, the boys are into it, and I think it probably builds social and public skills.

On Friday morning, July 4th, breakfast was particularly nice. First one troop sang 'America the Beautiful'. Then, after grace, we sang happy birthday, recited the pledge of allegiance, and then sang the Star-Spangled Banner. All in recognition of the birthday of America. It was really nice, and I must admit, I became teary eyed. I'm not sure, but maybe being with a few hundred boy scouts all singing their hearts out for our country had something to do with it.

I'm the first to criticize all the bad things our country does, but I also feel we have a unique history worth celebrating. Plus, if you are going to live here, by all means criticize away, but also have faith in your country.

Winer on Obama

Dave Winer, the person who created RSS, on Obama:

"Obama was the perfect candidate to compete with a woman for President, for the same reasons he's a perfect black candidate. His anger is suppressed, the same way it was for Jackie Robinson. Obama is the Jackie Robinson of politics. In the same way the first black major league player had to soak up everyone's rage and express none of his own, no one votes for an angry black man,, at least not yet (we will eventually) and anger expressed by a man for a woman is not tolerated either."

I think this makes perfect sense. See more at hs blog, Scripting News.

Sitges

Sitges, originally uploaded by profvrr.

Was in Sitges, Spain for Europic 2008 last week. Great meeting, and lovely seaside town. Excellent red wine, too. Here's a photo of me and Bert Semler by the sea.

Flickr

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

Grovel

On Twit 135, Jerry Pournelle said, if you want to have a perfect marriage, "you have to learn how to grovel."

Cereal bowl in the shower

Why is there a cereal bowl in the shower?

Blowup

I watched Blowup last night, the 1966 film directed by Michelangelo Antonioni. I had not watched it since college, when I thought I was going to be a photographer, and watching this movie was a rite of passage for that profession.

It's a fabulous movie. The camera movements are wonderful. The setings, particularly those with grass, are so lush and well lit. It was like seeing the film again, because I had completely forgotten it.

But what I want to write about is only a small scene in the film. The photographer is in his studio, sitting at his desk, looking at two girls who want him to photograph them. He has a coin in his hand, and he is flipping it among his fingers, trying to impress the girls.

The same flipping of the coin among fingers also occurs in Pirates of the Carribean: The Curse of the Black Pearl. It happens late in the film, in the grotto, and it's Captain Jack who does the deed with the gold coin.

Coincidence? Something that happens a lot? Or a salute from Gore Verbinski to Antonioni? I think the latter, but see for yourself.

Raining buckets

It's been raining buckets here, in the northeast, since some time last Saturday night. It only just stopped this afternoon. Everyone is talking about their wet basements.

It reminds me of the time, maybe 11 years ago, when it was also raining buckets, and our window wells began to fill with water. The raindrops were huge. We got two buckets (the real kind) and started bailing out the wells. Furiously, in the dark, the rain knocking us very wet. Our one year old son watched from the glassed front door for a few minutes. Then he went back into the house and got one of his plastic Halloween containers, and came to the door, and held it out. As if to say, 'here's another one'.

I'll never forget it - it was maybe the first time I realized he had some consciousness, that he could observe and think and reason. It made me happy to think he could do that. It was also very, very funny.

Junipero Gin

A few months ago, I read in Esquire magazine that gin is the new hot drink. As you might know, vodka has been hot for a number of years, with many new varieties spawned. Gin has always been a sleeper, perhaps because it's a bit different, as it is brewed with added botanicals according to the maker.

One of the gins recommended by Esquire is Junipero. They said it might be America's best gin. It wasn't easy to find but finally a few weeks ago I bought a bottle. It's very different from most other gins - not at all sweet and the botanicals are unusual. But I like it very much - I drank it on ice, with just a drop of vermouth. The latter isn't really necessary - you should leave the flavor alone. But it's not cheap - about $35 for the bottle. You won't want to make gin and tonics with it either; savor the taste on its own.

Junipero is made by the same company that makes Anchor Steam beer - which in itself is outstanding. You can find out more here.

Black Squirrel

I went to Princeton this past Saturday to work on the third edition of our textbook, 'Principles of Virology'. It's always nice to go there early on Saturdays; it's very calm (bucolic, as my colleague there would say) and nearly deserted.

This past Saturday, while walking to Thomas Lab, I saw a black squirrel on the grass. I thought it was some sort of mutant, but apparently black squirrels are quite common in the northeastern US. There is even a photo of one at Wikipedia, taken on the Princeton University campus! Here is the link.

Apparently black squirrels are nothing more than dark versions of the common Eastern Grey Squirrel. So they are not so special after all.

Miyazaki

Lately we have been enjoying the films of Hayao Miyazaki, the Japanese animator. We had already seen Spirited Away, Kiki's Delivery Service, and Howl's Moving Castle a while ago. A few months ago, I decided to try Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, and everyone loved it. We then watched Princess Mononoke, and just last night, My Neighbor Tortoro.

These are wonderful films. The animation is drawn by hand, the characters are memorable and often highly imaginative, the music is excellent, and the plots are very good. Unfortunately, we are nearing the end of his oevre (remaining are Porco Rosso and The Cat Returns).

I highly recommed these films to anyone with children, or anyone with a vivid imagination.

cellphones and interruptions

A huge problem with cell phones is that they make you interruptible nearly all the time. So many times I'm sitting in the cell culture hood pipetting, or injecting a mouse, and the phone rings. It's a major problem just to see who it is because I usually have both hands occupied. I know, you can turn off the phone, but who wants to bother with that? Only when I go into meetings do I silence it completely. Not even vibrate; how many buzzing cell phones I've heard at meetings...

But one place I will absolutely not answer the phone is in the bathroom. That is supposed to be a sanctuary, a place where no one can reach you. And it's just plain weird to talk with someone with your pants around your ankles.

Man and Woman

Viruses are female

This morning, my son Devin and I were talking about viruses. He told me that viruses are female.

Why, I asked.

Because, he said, viruses go into cells, and make more viruses. Females are the only ones who can make things. That's why viruses are female.

I never thought of it that way. Brilliant.

Flopsy

Last Wednesday, my wife and Aidan bought a small, white rabbit as a Christmas gift for our daughter. It was adorable, no bigger than your palm, with long, brown, ears that flopped down the side of its head. We kept it in the back house and it was visited each day.

Tonight it died. I just buried it in the back yard, holding it near my chest as I scooped out a hole. It was still warm. I felt badly putting it in the cold earth. Aidan cried when he found out, he liked it so much. Nadia would have loved it. It was a fragile thing, beautiful, but fragile.

A tree swing

A few weeks ago, or maybe last weekend, when I took my son to a playdate, I noticed they had a rope hung from a high tree branch. The kids loved to swing on it. Of course, my kids wanted one. So how did they get the rope on the high branch? Apparently they shot an arrow with a thin thread tied to it over the branch, then tied the thin thread to a rope and pulled the rope over. So I promised to make one in our back yard. That weekend, we walked around and found a good tree, with a high branch, unobstructed.

Today I went to that house again and this time they loaned me the bow and arrow and some thick rope. So when I got home I tried it. First I tied a string to the arrow and tried shooting it up. Of course, I didn't know how to shoot it, so I took a few tries to get it right. When I had confidence I aimed it up at the branch. I kept getting tangled in branches of smaller trees, coming close to the large branch but never quite. After about 15 tries the arrow got stuck in a branch. I pulled and pulled to get it loose, and then the string broke. So there is the arrow hanging from a branch, high up, and I can't get it. I hope the neighbors are watching this comedy.

Next, I tie the string to a small stone, and throw the stone up. The branch I'm trying to reach is about 30 feet up. Maybe when I was younger I could reach it on the first try, but not today. Over and over I threw the stone, missing completely. Once the string got tangled in thin lower branches and when I tried to pull it out, it broke, so I lost the nice stone. I made another. Kept trying to throw, over an d over. Missing just by a foot, my arm getting tired. Can you picture it? A stone tied to a string, and me trying to throw it over a very high branch.

Finally, as it was getting dark, I got it. The stone went over the branch! It came down low enough so I could grab it and tie it to the thick rope, which I then pulled over the branch. So that's how I left it, because I don't have a seat to tie to the rope. Also, I don't know how to tie a knot that will hold - a slip knot. I'll deal with that tomorrow. I was very happy to get it to work. But it's awfullyl close to the tree. I hope the kids don't smash into it one day.

Now in my backyard there is a rope hanging from a high, thick tree branch. And also an arrow stuck somewhere, and bits of string all over. I hope the neighbors enjoyed the spectacle. It's all about the suburbs, anyway.

Babies

This morning I was walking north on Fort Washington avenue in the bright, sunny, warm morning. It was a lovely time, not too hot and wonderful clear light everywhere. Near the park around 175th street I saw two strollers full of babies. These are strollers that carry four children each, pushed by people who work at the P&S daycare center on Haven Avenue. The babies are so cute! I love especially those with very little hair, those naked head seeming just a bit too large but still charming. And how the babies continually look around, taking in everything and trying to understand what it is they are seeing! Whenever I see these babies, my heart jumps. They are so cute, so curious, so vulnerable because they can't do anything for themselves and are totally dependent on others. It's sad, in some inexplicable way. In this case, they are away from their parents, who are working, and in the care of others who may or may not think much of them. So whenever I see these babies, I am both happy and sad. I also think of my babies, who of course now are far past being babies, and think how fleeting this nice time of life is. But everythng is fleeting, and if we dwell on that, we'll be continually sad.

So I enjoyed the babies for a bit and then moved on. I'll see them again one day. As they grow up, they will be replaced by other new babies. Not at all like babies of mine.

Checkout

Today I was standing in line at Target, waiting to pay for my purchases. In front of me was someone paying, and a woman and man waiting. As usual at Target in the morning, there were 100 closed checkout stations and one open one.

Another checkout station opened up a few lanes away. The clerk said 'Next in line', and no one moved. So I went over to check out. At that point, the woman waiting in front of me got very angry, told me she was first, and told me to wait. So I stepped back and let her go first. The cashier asked her how she was, and she replied "Been better. I believe that man should go next." And she pointed to the man who had been ahead of me in the other line, now waiting behind me.

I just walked away and went back to the first cashier line.

What is it with women? Why do they have to rule the world? No man would ever complain about someone going in line ahead of them like that. Why did she have to bother?

It really started my day in a bad way. And got me thinking about how bad women can be.

First date

Yesterday, 25 June 2006, my oldest son had his first date. He likes a girl in his karate class, someone just a few days older than he is. For weeks he has been talking about her; then last Saturday she gave him her cell phone number (she has a cell phone at 11 years old). He had the number on a pink sticky, which he said he would keep forever. This past Saturday at karate, he asked her if she wanted to come to his house for a while; she said to call her Sunday morning. When the day came, he was so nervous to call, he kept rehearsing what he would say. Later in the day he went to her house for a few hours. The funny thing is, his sister also went - she is 8 years old and gets along well with my son's friend. So the three of them played and had a great time, I heard. I think of my daughter going along as a chaperone, perhaps, or to help break the ice.

Girls and women are very nice, but he doesn't know what he is getting himself into.

Funny joke from a beautiful woman

Each month Esquire runs a feature called 'Funny joke from a beautiful women'. I liked last month's; it was told by the actress Ana De La Reguera (currently playing a nun in the movie 'Nacho Libre'). Here is the joke:

A wife asks her husband, "Honey, if I died, would you remarry?"
"After a considerable period of grieving," he says, "I guess I would. We all need companionship."
"If I died and you remarried,", the wife asks, "would she live in this house?"
"We've spent a lot of money getting this house just the way we want it. I guess so."
"If I died and you remarried and she lived in this house," the wife asks, "would she sleep in our bed?"
"Well, the bed is brand-new. It's going to last a long time. I guess she would."
"If I died and you remarried and she lived in this house and slept in our bed, would she use my golf clubs?"
"Oh, no," the husband replies. "She's left-handed."

Recess

Tomorrow is the last day of school for my children. Yesterday evening my older son announced to me, 'Today was the last day of recess for the rest of my life'. I asked him to explain. Through fifth grade, children have some time outside each day, just after lunch. Weather permitting, they go to the playground where they can expend some energy. Since Aidan is completing fifth grade this year, he won't have any more recess. Forever, because you never get any recess later in life.

I hadn't ever thought about that. I suppose kids like their routines, and especially like running around outside. He didn't seem particularly upset, but the fact that he mentioned it means he was thinking about it. The things that go around in kids' heads!

Leg hair

This morning, I put shorts on my daughter. A bit later I saw her go back to her room, take them off, and look in the drawer. So I asked her what was wrong. She began wailing, "I don't like the hair on my legs". From an eight year old! I said, 'but I have hair all over', and she said, 'but you are a man'. Then I said, 'but all girls in your class probably have hair on their legs', but she didn't care. She said she would pass the summer without wearing shorts or skirts.

Later in the car, on the way to school, I asked her where that came from. She could not tell me. But when I asked her if she wanted to wax her legs, she nodded an enthusiastic yes. Wait till she feels the pain! I'm amazed at this concern at this early age. But what do I know about girls?

Women without clothing

Some events stick in your mind forever, no matter how long ago they occurred. I suppose that is because they made a strong impression. I have many such memories. One popped back into my mind the other day.

When I was much younger, my family would spend weeks each summer at the New Jersey shore. We would rent a house near the beach, either in Point Pleasant or Manasquan, spend days at the beach and nights at the boardwalk or at home relaxing. One summer - I can't recall which, but I was somewhere around 10 - 12 years old, I would guess, we had rented a home in Manasquan. It was on the beach, but behind a row of houses that directly looked onto the ocean. Between our rented house and the house closest to the beach was a wooden walkway and a bit of sand. One afternoon I was standing on the wooden walkway, leaning against a low concrete wall that separated our house from the adjoining one. I was facing our rented house, dreaming for some time. Someone said 'Hi' from behind me. I turned to see one of the lovely young women currently occupying the rental next door. She was probably at least 16 or 17, with blonde hair and a pretty face. She covered the front of her body with a white towel, apparently having just emerged from the outdoor shower. She smiled impishly and then turned quickly to enter her house. In so doing, I learned that the towel only covered the front of her body. I was treated to a lovely view of her naked back and buttocks. She was tanned except for the white buttocks. It was lovely, and I was stunned. In a breath of time she had flipped open the screen door and disappeared into the darkness. I stood for many minutes watching, hoping she would emerge again, but I never saw her again, not on that day or on any other.

I believe it was my first view of a live, naked woman. I look back on the incident with affection; she was so pretty and it was all so surprising. I do believe this experience is partly responsible for my inordinate fondess for women without clothing.

Dimples of Venus

'Dimple of Venus' is the the name for the two dimples that may be seen on the human lower back, as shown in the photograph above. Given the propensity for women to expose their lower back on a daily basis, with low-riding pants and high-riding shirts, these dimples are now seen more frequently than ever before. Their symmetry and softness are quite lovely.

Apparently others are fond of back dimples as well: here is a website devoted to their discovery.

Hugging

I'm sitting at the kitchen table, finishing a glass of red wine and reading last Sunday's paper. I wasn't around last weekend, and haven't had time to read it yet. The paper, not the glass of wine.

I'm reading the 'Modern Love' column which I quote here a lot. It's a column by a woman who is a staunch feminist but also loves men. The picture above is from the column. I like the hair.

She writes:

"...no matter how enraged I become, I still adore men and the possibility for romance they bring. I love the smell of a man's skin. I enjoy the breathless feeling of waiting to see if he'll call back. And nothing beats the feeling of a man's arms wrapped around me. Nothing."

I guess she likes being hugged. Men like hugging, too. Or else they wouldn't do it.

Memories

I was putting my son Devin to bed the other night when he suddenly said, 'Do you know how to feel better when you are sad? Think about your good memories. Once when everyone was yelling at me, and I felt bad, I came to my room and looked at my old Winnie the Pooh stickers, and they made me feel good'.

I'll have to try it sometimes. Kids and often incredibly wise.

More Duras

A few posts ago, I recalled the story of Marguerite Duras' young years in Colonial Indochina, and her affair with the son of a Chinese landowner. This affair formed the basis of her short book, 'The Lover'. I became intrigued by this story and went to amazon.com to purchase the book.

While I was browsing, I learned that Duras also wrote the screenplay for the movie 'Hiroshima Mon Amour', the black and white film made in 1959 by Alain Resnais. Apparently this is 'a cornerstone of French cinema...one of the most influential films of all time.' It is 'the story of a French woman and a Japanese man who become lovers in Hiroshima. The film reveals the miserable and mortifying experiences of each character during the war and suggests the obvious healing properties of their relationship in the present....nothing can quite prepare one for Resnais's extreme yet intuitively accessible experiments in fusing the past, present, and future into great sweeps of subjectively experienced memory. ...audiences have never had trouble relating to this bold milestone of the French New Wave, largely because at its heart is a genuinely affecting, soulful love story.'

So I bought the DVD, too. Such is today's digital way of browsing. And it can only get better.

Booby Trap

Each night before bed, my two younger children read for at least 15 minutes. They enter what they have read into a log: name of the book, how many pages, type of book, and a new word that they learned while reading.

Tonight my son Devin wrote the word "booby trap".

He said to me, "I wrote two words, booby trap, instead of booby, so that my teacher would not think I was using an inappropriate word. It means girls' breasts. Bathroom talk".

Fack Offf

File for use in a movie:

A man and woman sit at a small wooden table, having dinner. There is a single candle on the table between them. The woman is Italian and speaks English with an accent. They have been arguing. For the woman, this is natural, it is part of her culture. She says to him 'fack off'. Instead of 'u' in that word, she pronounces it like a long 'a'. And the 'off', she lingers a bit more on the f's than do Americans. Like 'offff...' 'Fack offff'.

He says, 'I like the way you say that'.

She responds, 'Fack off. I'll say it as many times as you wish'.

My Grave

Last Sunday in 'Modern Love', a journalist wrote about how he briefly flirted with a Bengladeshi woman, a policewoman no less, during a brief stay in that country. They didn't do very much, just went to parks and such for a while. At one point, she scribbled something in his notebook. Later, after they had parted for the last time, he went back to his hotel and read what she had written:

When I will die
please come to my grave.
Don't cry for me,
only say I love you.

A Pale View of Hills

I finished reading "A Pale View of Hills", by Kazuo Ishiguro, Sunday evening. It's a beautiful book but difficult to completely understand. Perhaps I need to read it again. The switching narrative was somewhat confusing to me.

For the most part, the book flowed evenly, and I found little that jumped out at me. One exception came during a dialogue between Niki and her Mother, Etsuko, towards the end of the book. Etsuko had just asked her daughter if she had any plans to get married.

"Well, why should I get married? That's so stupid, Mother. So many women just get brainwashed. They think all there is to life is getting married and having a load of kids."

I continued to watch her. Then I said: "But in the end, Niki, there isn't very much else."

Forbidden Love

Did you know that Marguerite Duras, the French writer who spent her childhood in colonial Indochina, began an affair with a 27 year old son of a Chinese landowner when she was 15 years old? She would sneak away from her boarding school in Saigon to spend evenings in his bachelor's quarters in the city's Chinatown. Apparently this scandalous affair served as raw material for her 1984 novel, "The Lover".

As documented in an article in the NY Times of 30 April, it is still possible to retrace some of her narrative in Vietnam. The author retraced many of the lovers' steps in Saigon and the surrounding areas. I thought it was interesting that he found a photograph in the Chua Huong pagoda of the Chinese man and the woman he eventually married. Apparently the parents of the Chinese man forbid him to marry Duras. The author of the article writes: "Was there regret in his eyes? Years after their affair, he phoned Duras in Paris to tell her he would never stop loving her for the rest of her life. Perhaps that is why his wife, in her photo, looks so uncomfortable, so unloved".

How interesting that he would still love her, unseen, after so many years. And that as a result, his wife would be forever unloved.

I have not read "The Lover". Perhaps I should.

La Perla

Un negozio a Roma, dove si vende l'intimo, 'La Perla'.

Rome

Rome is a wonderful city. It's disorganized and chaotic, but seems to work. The people are friendly, the food is wonderful, and there are endless things to see, no matter what your interests are. I spent 9 days there and I wish I had been able to post to this blog wherever I was, because there were so many things I would have liked to write about. I'm not sure I can remember them all, but perhaps looking at the photos I took will bring some of them back.

Above is a photo of my son Devin on a set of steps leading down to Via Veneto. This was taken on Monday, 17 April, in the late afternoon; it had been lightly raining for some time and the skies were cloudy. I like the photo because it's a bit surreal.

This photo reminds me of two incidents with Devin, both on a trip to Pompeii on 13 April. On the bus drive to Naples from Rome, we stopped at the half-way point for bathrooms and coffee. I got off the bus with Devin and brought him to the bathroom. Back upstairs, in a combination coffee-bar convience store, he spotted bags of animal cookies on the shelf. He asked me if he could have one, and I said yes. He was so happy, he jumped up and down. Sometimes it's just good to say yes.

Later that day, after visiting Pompeii, we were walking through a parking lot filled with souvenir stands. Devin went off on his own with a five-euro note. He looked around and selected a small plate (about 2" in diameter) with a picture of erupting Vesuvius on it. Then it was time to leave, and I called him to come. The man tending the stand asked him if he wanted to buy the plate; he thought a bit, nodded yes, and handed the man the note, who then got him his change. He did it all by himself; he's an independent guy. I was very proud of him.

Santa Lucia

I was in Italy last week; Rome, to be exact. One day, we took a trip south to Pompeii. On the way, the bus made a brief stop in Naples, where we got out to view the harbor and a nice image of Mt. Vesuvius. After that stop, we drove very near Pompeii, stopping at a restaurant for lunch. It was a large place, well suited to receive the contents of many tour busses. Nevertheless, the food was very good.

Once we were seated, two older men playing guitar and mandolin circulated among the tables, playing Neapolitan songs. I paid little attention to them. At one point, they began singing. After a few bars of the song, I looked up because the singer was very, very good. I was surprised to see a Korean man, from one of the tour buses, singing along with the two Italians! He was singing 'Santa Lucia', and boy, was he good! He had a near-operatic voice. As he went through the song, everyone stopped eating, looked up, and listed. When he was done, he received a great round of applause. What a wonderful performance!

When I came home, I just had to find the lyrics of this song; I also downloaded a version by Enrico Caruso. Yes, I plan to memorize the song and sing it until I get it right. I'll never have an operatic voice, but perhaps I'll be able to sing it in tune. Then, one day, I might be able to sing it in a Neapolitan restaurant. Maybe even play guitar as well.

Santa Lucia is dedicated to the city of Naples and to the Santa Lucia area which faces the Gulf of Naples. The lyrics are the words of a boatman describing the view from Santa Lucia: It is night and the moon is reflected in the sea. He tells us of the indescribable magic that one can feel while watching the boats in the sea; how they sail softly, driven by gentle breezes. The boatman invites people to board his boat saying how you will admire the sea and the city of Naples.

Naples is described beautifully in this song as, "suolo beato, ove sorridere volle il Creato" (holy soil, smiled upon by the Creator). The Santa Lucia quarter is called "impero dell'armonia" (the empire of harmony).

It's a wonderful song; the words are lovely and the melody is memorable. Since my maternal grandparents were from the area of Napoli, I remember it well from my youth. Hearing it brought back memories.

SANTA LUCIA

Sul mare luccica
L'astro d'argento
Placida è l'onda
Prospero il vento;
Venite all'agile
Barchetta mia;
Santa Lucia! Santa Lucia!

Con questo zeffiro
Così soave,
Oh, come è bello
Star sulla nave.
Su passeggeri,
Venite via;
Santa Lucia! Santa Lucia!

In' fra le tende
Bandir la cena,
In una sera
Così serena.

Chi non dimanda,
Chi non desia;
Santa Lucia! Santa Lucia!

Mare sì placido,
vento sì caro,
Scordar fa i triboli
Al marinaio.
E va gridando
Con allegria:
Santa Lucia! Santa Lucia!

O dolce Napoli,
O suol beato,
Ove sorridere
Volle il creato,
Tu sei l'impero
Dell'armonia,
Santa Lucia! Santa Lucia!

Or che tardate?
Bella è la sera;
Spira un'auretta
Fresca e leggiera;
Venite all'agile
Barchetta mia;
Santa Lucia! Santa Lucia!

(T. Cottrau - Longo 1835)

On Beauty

From domai.com, a website about beautiful women. The webmaster promises:


1. never to my willful knowledge let a beautiful girl pass without enjoying the sight.
2. never to speak slightingly of or underestimate the importance of beauty and grace, and always support it in conversation when needed.
3. to keep beauty near my heart and always be aware that it is what is keeping us happy and content, and much of what makes life worth living.
4. never to let merely intellectual pursuits, important as they may be, distract me for any undue length of time.
5. to keep in mind that beauty is a spiritual thing, no more and no less.
6. to always keep a pure mind when seeing beauty, or, failing that, at least take pleasure thinking what I am thinking.
7. to remember that seeing is the only form of having that is actual. Thus, what you can see you can have. The reason for possessing anything is to prevent others from having it too, a pointless exercise.
8. to not be bothered when they go away. There will always be more.
9. to enjoy life and what it has given me, and in return to support life and be constructive.

How to get girls to like you

This evening my son asked me how to get a girl to like him. Apparently there is a girl in his karate class that he likes. So I suggested he talk with her, write her letters, be nice to her, do things for her (like help her carry something), buy her a granola bar (at which he frowned, and I said, well, chocolates would be good, but in case she doesn't like chocolate), take her to a movie or out for ice cream, or call her on her cell phone. At which he responded, Dad, I'm only 11, I don't think I can take her places. But he did like the other ideas.

I saw a movie preview recently where a boy is sitting on a bench in Central Park, and asks his Dad a similar question. The Dad answers, 'I don't think I'm the right person to ask that'. I could have answered the same, but I prefer to give my children some positive answers.

But truly, you can do all of the things I told Aidan, but in the end, it's YOU that the girl or woman will respond to. The other things just give opportunity for her further study. If she doesn't like you, you are out of luck.

Spring

Spring arrived last week, but the weather remained cold until late this past week. It became possible to wear a light coat, and not feel frozen at night. Plus, the sun rose earlier and set later; at least going to and from work does not feel as confining. While I do like the night, there is something unsettling about darkness starting and finishing the work day.

The warm weather is nice, and everyone gets excited about it, but in a month we'll already be used to it. Furthermore, when it is very hot, we'll all be looking forward to fall. We're just never happy. I think the excitement at spring is just a matter of the change to warmth after the long winter months. After all, no one gets so excited when summer comes, or when fall or winter arrive. It's only spring that seems to wake people up, and then for only a few weeks. Then they slide back into their routines.

It's a rather down way to look at spring, I know, but it's how I feel about it.

Flat tire

I was driving from NYC late on the night of 30 March when I ran over a construction plate on Ft. Washington Avenue. As soon as I did it, as soon as I heard that noise of the tire hitting the corner of the plate, which was raised about two inches, I knew the tire was gone. I cursed loudly. I was not paying attention, I was tired and distracted. But I got onto the bridge and drove as fast as I could, and just as I reached the other side, the noise began. I limped onto route 46 where I knew there was a gas station and pulled into it. I could not have driven another hundred yards. The tire was flat; amazing that it held enough air to get me over the bridge. I went into the station and asked if I could change the tire there; it wasn't a full service station, just a gas pumping one where what used to be the station is now a convenience store. There was a young man who didn't speak English, and the girl at the counter; she told me it was ok. I went out and started, and the young man came out and gestured that he would help. He began to loosen the bolts while I jacked up the car. Unfortunately, a customer came in for gas and he had to attend to that. By the time he was done I had changed the tire. But he did tighten the bolts, and I noticed he was careful about it. So I gave him $20. I felt I was such an idiot that I had to do something right.

My hands were filthy and they made the steering wheel dirty. The next morning I cleaned the steering wheel before touching it. A lot of dirt came off.

I hate getting flat tires. But it always happens, at least twice a year. I suppose it's because I drive so much. But can you imagine if I had not been able to cross the bridge? I guess I am lucky.

Simple sugo rosso

Here is a great recipe for a simple, quick, and delicious red pasta sauce.

First, put on the water to boil for pasta. Be sure to salt it liberally, but not too much. The best salt to use is the large-grained sea salt, like 'Baleine'. By the time the pasta is cooked, the sauce will be done.

In a large frying pan, put enough olive oil to cover the bottom, and a few slices of garlic, salt, and pepper. Heat until the garlic sizzles. Then put in about a dozen small tomatoes - about two inches in diameter would be best; the smaller grape tomatoes will do also. Cook until the tomatoes have fallen apart; you may press them now and then with a wooden spoon to accelerate the process.

By now you should have put the pasta in the water. When it is al dente, drain. If the tomatoes are now completely fallen apart, you can add the drained pasta directly to the sauce. See the photo above for what it should look like at this point. Mix and serve. Best with grated ricotta salata on top.

Very simple, very good. Quite often, simple is best.