The More You Know ...

Tea: Oolong Pouchong

Music: Peter Gabriel, "Big Time"

Time: Late afternoon.

It used to be that when CNN brought news of something like this, it registered -- but only briefly.

Things have changed. I know people, and they know people. Now, any disaster in -- or attack on -- New York or London warrants a phone call to make sure people are accounted for.

Were I a better person, perhaps, it wouldn't have taken knowing someone in an affected area to care more about what happened there.

It's up to her, New York, New York

Tea: Vanilla Lapsang

Music: Mott the Hoople, "All the Young Dudes"

Time: Night.

Another one of my clan is about to experience New York.

The soon-to-be-senior daughter's high school chorus leaves at some ungodly hour (translation: before noon) tomorrow.

She'll be back on her 17th birthday. While she's there, she'll sing at the top of the Empire State Building, visit Times Square and see a couple of Broadway shows ("Legally Blonde" and something else chickish, the title of which escapes me at present. Could be worse. She could be seeing "The Sca-REEWWWWWWW-uh TAY-puh Letters." Don't ask. It's a long story.)

She'll come home, as I did, with her world both expanded and shrunk. I'm interested to see if she falls in love with the city, too. I hope she does.

She'll

Just Like Riding a (Recumbent) Bike

Tea: Christmas

Music: Queen, "Somebody To Love"

Time: Night.

The ankle being largely better, I went back to the gym today. I thought I'd just warm up a bit on the recumbent bike, then do some light upper body lifting.

Sixty-five minutes and twenty virtual miles later, I climbed off the bike. Just felt right to be on it, for some reason.

I suppose there's something in our bodies that tells us what we really need, be it in the way of food or exercise or rest, if we'll just tune in and listen. My problem is in tuning away from the Want Channel (usually set to barbecue, hamburgers and lots of caffeine).

Not that there's anything wrong with those, of course. I just have to rediscover the balance. It'll come.

"Break," Noun and Verb

Tea: Vanilla Lapsang

Music: King Crimson, "Sleepless" (Tony Levin Remix)

Time: Night.

Verb first.

The weirdest thing happened today. (Okay, not the weirdest thing. That would require pistachio pudding, a piano-playing gibbon and a hibachi.)

Still, it was weird.

It's as though my right leg -- and only my right leg -- broke a fever today. Sweaty, clammy, drained, the whole nine yards. Guess the tendinitis had an infection behind it. Here's hoping it's going bye-bye, if not already gone.

I tried to get some work done, after finally getting out of bed after noon. I had a tiny bit of success, but I've found focus and energy hard to maintain.

So I'm taking a noun-style break, for at least a few hours tonight. I'll read some of "Lilith" by George MacDonald (having thoroughly enjoyed "Phantastes," as you might recall), and try to get some sleep.

Then, tomorrow, I'll be back to trying to catch a different sort of break -- or, better yet, helping to make it happen.

Happy with what I Have to be Happy with

Tea: Blood Orange with Honey

Music: Dain Estes, "Before We Met I Knew Your Face"

Time: Night.

Another two-day combo post, sorry. The ankle's still screwed up, which means I'm spending a lot of time on my back with my leg elevated. Lousy blogging position, that.

But ... I've heard that when one is grumpy about something, that's the best time to be grateful for the good things. So, here are my three gratitudes for the moment:

1. I still have the power to get vertical, even if it hurts;

2. My hands still work;

3. Ice and aspirin. (Yes, that's four out of three. Got a problem with that?)

More later. I'm off to be back on my back.

What's Japanese for "Ow" ...?

Tea: Christmas

Music: Tom Lehrer, "The Masochism Tango"

Time: Evening.

Sorry, y'all, this post is standing for yesterday's and today's. My ankle hurts like crazy, so I've been (a) keeping off of it and (b) keeping it elevated for the last couple of days. (Yes, I'm also doing the ice and compression parts of "RICE" -- those just aren't as much fun as sitting in a recliner watching cheesy monster movies.)

So far I've watched "The Son of Kong" and "Godzilla, Mothra and King Ghidorah: Giant Monsters All-Out Attack." "Gorgo" is next. After that, I should probably head back to Japan for something with Anguirus (or Angilas, if you will).

Why him?

Because he's a giant Ankylosaurus. Get it? Ankle-o-sore-us?

I kill myself sometimes ...

This is a Very Great Opportunity!

Tea: Chinese Melon Seed

Music: The Beatles, "If I Fell"

Time: Night.

I'm trying to be optimistic here. Amid all the dire economic signs out there, I'm looking for indications that things could be worse.

I've found two.

One, India isn't outsourcing its tech support, telemarketing and debt collections services to us yet.

"Hello, is this Mr. VEYE-jay Sam ... um ... Sam ... SamaramPOOLmitsar?"

"Who is calling, please?"

"This is Duane, sir, and I'm calling from Citibank. We're showing a past due of five thousand rupees on the MasterCard account. Y'all need to make a payment."

"Oh, I am very sorry, this is Vijay's brother Krishna. He is away at present. But I do remember him mailing a check to you. Perhaps the postman has been devoured by a tiger. Yes, I am quite sure that is what has happened."

"Mr. SamaramPOOLmitsar, we do need to get a payment ... hello?"

That's not the last sign of economapocalypse, though. That comes when we have to start swindling Nigerians via e-mail.

"Hello, my trusted friend, my name is Billy Joe Bob George Washington. I am the son of a prominent Texas cattle billionaire. Unfortunately, we have lost almost everything since the government nationalized our cattle orchards. However, I was able to hide away 500 million naira but I cannot get it out of the country. So I come to you with a business proposition."

Hey, I'm pretty good at that. Looks like I have a future occupation if I need one ...

Shoot Down the Shootout

Tea: Marron Glacé

Music: Bob Dylan, "Mr. Tambourine Man"

Time: Night.

After today's UEFA Champions League final, I'd just like to take a brief moment to say one thing:

I hate penalty kick shootouts. Loathe them.

We don't decide Super Bowls by letting kickers alternate field goal attempts, Stanley Cups with best-of-five faceoffs or the World Series with a home run derby. (I'm not doing the usual basketball analogy. It's been done to death.) So why do we decide soccer championships (if regulation and a 30-minute overtime doesn't settle things) with penalty kicks?

It's anticlimactic. It's artificial. And it's avoidable.

Look, by that time both teams are exhausted. Someone's bound to make a mistake and give up a goal -- at the very least, an honest penalty kick.

Let the TV people howl. The only honorable way to settle a tie in a soccer championship is to go through the regulation 30-minute overtime -- and if things are still knotted up, go to 15-minute golden goal periods until someone puts the ball in the net.

Then -- and only then -- let the celebrations begin. That's how it used to be, and how it should be again.

Here endeth the rant. Now let's see if anyone at FIFA cares.

(Insert wry chuckle here.)

Yeah, right ...

Commence This

Tea: Lapsang Caramel

Music: Barzin, "Leaving Time"

Time: Night.

It's graduation season. Break out the platitudes.

Pardon my cynicism, but most graduates aren't paying attention to the commencement addresses. They want to get out of the stadium/gymnasium/auditorium, get rid of the cap and gown, and start opening (a) presents; (b) something to drink; (c) both.

Those who are actually listening are likely to hear one of the great lies of our culture, to wit:

"You can do anything, be anything, achieve anything -- if you want it badly enough and work hard enough."

Um ... not so much.

The six-foot-ten kid may really want to be a jockey. Not going to happen.

The girl or boy who can't boil water without instructions might learn to be a serviceable cook, but probably isn't going to be a James Beard Award winner.

And no matter the level of desire and hard work, if your brain's not wired for astrophysics/surgery/musical composition ... it's not going to happen.

Why do we sell our kids this bill of bull? Maybe because we've been conditioned to see "elite" as a bad word. How dare people not be equal, when equality is supposed to be guaranteed to everyone?

Hate so say this, folks -- but that's not what the people who set up this country envisioned. They recognized that we all should be alive, free and able to pursue what makes us happy -- but equality of result, regardless of gift or talent? Again, not so much.

The sad side effect of this "You can be anything you want to " spiel is that it leads to the (faulty) presumption that those who don't land in prestigious positions are somehow failures. In truth, it takes everyone to make things work.

So ... here's my short exhortation to this spring's graduates:

Find your gift. Everyone has one. Embrace it to the fullest extent you can. And if you can make it pay your mortgage, count yourself blessed and/or fortunate.

Now go open your presents.

A Quick Quaff of Quietude

Tea: Mandarin Orange with honey

Music: King Crimson, "The Sheltering Sky"

Time: Night

Twin headaches tonight: sinus, which makes the left eye feel as though it's about to pop out, and caffeine withdrawal, which manifests as repeated blows to the back left of my head.

Two cures, one cup -- my Scrabble Q mug, which is covered with such high-scoring words as "quassia," "quinolin" and "quokka."

Good thing my father didn't have a mug like this when he was alive. During our epic Scrabble battles, I did all I could to hoard the four "U" tiles so that if he did draw the "Q," it would be useless to him.

All those chances he missed to play "qaid," "qanat," "qat," "qindar," "qintar," "qiviut" and "qoph."

If he were here now, I might let him borrow the mug for one game.

(pause)

Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh ...

Dat'l Make Me Happy

Tea: Vanilla Jasmine

Music: Badfinger, "No Matter What"

Time: Night.

Warning: Shameless commercial plug upcoming.

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a capsaicin junkie. (That's the stuff that makes hot peppers hot.) At any given time, I have at least four bottles of hot sauce open -- and that's not even counting the stack of miniatures I keep in my backpack.

One of my new favorites is Datil Pepper Gold, from Dat'l Do It. It's a Central American-style sauce, carrot-based, with the carrot's sweetness playing well against the Datil pepper's heat. I put a more than liberal dose on a fried egg sandwich tonight, and was struck by (a) how good the sauce is with eggs, and (b) how much I'm going to miss this bottle when it's gone.

(Fried egg sandwich at night, you ask? Hey, it's been a long day, and I was in need of some quick comfort food.)

Anyway: Long story short, you should get some of this. I've never seen it on its own, only as part of a five-bottle pack -- but then again, I've liked everything I've had from Dat'l Do It, so I doubt the other four bottles will disappoint.

(Yeah, I still have them. They're in the garage. Tea and hot sauce ... the stash goes ever ever on ... not that I'm complaining. I could be working through jars of sweet pickles. In a word, ew.)

Man Out of Time

Tea: Oolong Pouchong

Music: Sweet, "Ballroom Blitz"

Time: Late evening.

I was four when my dad was the age I am now, so my recollections of how he dressed are based more on photographs than memory. I do recall that he often wore suits and ties (and a sweet mohair sweater of which I once had brief possession).

Later in life, he took to wearing shorts, T-shirts, white socks and baseball shoes (often with mesh-backed trucker hatsfrom the bank where he worked). I, being a teenager by then, was mortified.

My kids are teens already -- which means I get the fun of embarrassing them. Sometimes it's mismatched socks, sometimes ratty Chuck Taylor high-tops -- but it's hard to beat a good T-shirt for maximum embarassment value.

Two years ago, my daughter -- then a high school freshman -- and I went to a theatre event at her school. I wore a black shirt, bearing (in white) a tiny Grim Reaper and the words "I see dead people."

When the house lights went down, we discovered that Death and the letters glowed in the dark.

"Da-aaadd!"

Needless to say, I spent the evening clutching a playbill to my chest. Every time I even hinted at letting my light shine, she elbowed me in the ribs.

I still have that shirt -- but lately, it's been more fun to wear Christmas gear (shirts and socks) out of season. Today, it was a gray T-shirt bearing a big picture of Snoopy in full Santa gear.

The kids are getting jaded, though. Now, they just roll their eyes.

Maybe I should really shake them up. You know: suits, ties, maybe the odd mohair sweater ...

Out of Focus

Tea: White Grapefruit, iced.

Music: Steely Dan, "Peg"

Time: Afternoon.

So I started printing photos for the upcoming Saucy Hound show. Well, I didn't print them. I had them printed.

And as soon as I hit the "send" button, I realized something was wrong. Badly wrong.

Namely, one of the photos I'd chosen wasn't one I would even choose to keep in my portfolio. It has pixel issues, focus issues ... actually, whole subscriptions in both areas.

Good thing I'm not picking everything for the show. It helps to have input, and I'm definitely going to seek that out in the coming days. I know it's my show and all, but another pair of eyes can only help -- especially when mine are so clearly wonky today.

(Make that unclearly wonky. Time for more caffeine ...)

Can I Get a 10-9 on That?

Tea: Blood Orange with ginger and honey

Music: Luscious Jackson, "Naked Eye"

Time: Night.

I was on the phone today, apologizing for asking for yet another repeat of what had just been said.

The conversation ran thusly:

"Sorry that I can't hear you too well. My ear's filled up."

"Why did it do that?"

"I don't know. Maybe because it got a ten-cents-a-gallon discount coupon."

(Giggling)

(Indistinct phone conversation)

"Say again, please?"

Yes, it's allergy season. That has something to do with it. But my left ear fills up at the slightest provocation, no matter what the season.

Wind blowing on it during the day? It'll be full by nightfall. Sudden change in air pressure? Ditto.

I could take decongestants, but they either (a) don't work or (b) work and make me absolutely insane. Wonderful options, those.

In the meantime, I'm self-medicating with ginger. We'll see how that goes.

I'm sorry ... did you say something?

With a Page Turn Here and a Page Turn There ...

Tea: Mandarin Orange with honey

Music: Various selections for college choir and orchestra

Time: Night.

I've taken a break from the Tolkien re-re-re-visiting to read someone I should have discovered long ago -- George MacDonald, whose works influenced Tolkien, C.S. Lewis and doubtless countless others.

Better late than never.

I started with "Phantastes," which has its precious (not in the best sense) moments but also can be stirring, thought-provoking and heartbreakingly sad. Next up is "Lilith."

A gift of a book can be a dicey proposition. But when it works, it's a gift that lasts well beyond the final page.

This works. More than.

White Rabbit Photograpy, Ltd.

Tea: Chinese Melon Seed

Music: King Crimson, "Starless"

Time: Late evening.

So, in the span of one day I have gone from not knowing when my next photo show would be to the very real prospect of opening two shows in the same month.

Next month, that is.

One opens June 13 at the Saucy Hound in Westport. The other, at Perk Up! in Overland Park, will happen sometime this summer -- possibly as early as the first week in June. That's sixty photos, give or take, to pick and mat and frame.

I'm trying my best to panic. (No, that's not a typo. I didn't say "trying my best not to panic.") Friend/collaborator/undefinable kindred spirit Seánan Forbes tells me I'll be fine.

(She's a photographer, too, you know. She's good. Better than. And we'll have a joint show -- maybe two -- later this year in Weston, Missouri.)

I'll keep you posted on all fronts. In the meantime, plans for shopping for mirrored sunglasses and growing a bad 'stache have been suspended. I'll be at Hobby Lobby, checking for sales on mats and frames.

You'll know me. Just listen for the frantic muttering.

Move Out of the Line, Please

Tea: Blood Orange (herbal) with honey

Music: Various pieces for high school band and strings

Time: Night.

It's happened before. It's about to happen again.

I'm going to be a jackbooted thug. Sort of.

My son is flying to Australia in June with his high school strings group -- and guess who's going to help go through the luggage beforehand to make sure there's no contraband.

Not just his. Everyone's.

These are good kids. I'm not worried about finding anything. Still, I think it's funny that Mr. Problem with Authority -- that would be me -- is going to be part of a sort of poor man's TSA.

(If I find any small vials of orange powder, though, I'm making someone else sniff them. I know someone who used to travel with powdered Scotch Bonnet pepper.)

Anyway ... if you need me, I'll be shopping for mirrored sunglasses and growing a bad 'stache.

Back to Work

Tea: Iced Black Lychee

Music: Elvis Costello and the Attractions, "Accidents Will Happen"

Time: Evening.

So I went back to the gym today after an absence of several months (tendinitis, various upper respiratory crap and the Plantar Wart from Heck).

There's good news, bad news and more good news.

The good news: I'm stronger at a base level than when I first started going to the gym in January 2007. That feels good. (Not as good as it will feel when I get back in a groove, though.)

The bad news: I have a lot of catching up to do, cardio-wise. A half-hour today left me not entirely drained, but fairly close to.

The good news again: Tomorrow's another day to get back in the gym ... and so is the day after that, and so on.

I'll keep you posted.

Hello ... Hello Again

Tea: Chinese Melon Seed

Music: Bob Walkenhorst, "Life Can Turn"

Time: Evening.

Yeah, I thought about the Cars song, but it seemed way too cliche.

So ... let's try this again. I stink at keeping anything up day to day, but here goes.

Since I last blathered at you, here are some things that happened:

I had a photo show end because Nighthawks -- my home away from home -- closed. I'm still a bit shell-shocked, two weeks later. Probably will be for some time to come. The regulars there were a family ... here's hoping we don't lose touch.

I ate the best duck I've ever had at The Vineyards in Weston, Missouri, and tried -- and loved -- sturgeon the next night at Justus Drugstore in Smithville (also Missouri).

I blew the water pump on the Ford. It still isn't fixed. Heck of a big paperweight, that car.

I've seen fire and I've seen rain ... no, wait. That's James Taylor.

Anyway. I'm not going to play catch-up. Too much gone by for that. But I'll try to do better at checking in each day.

Stay tuned.