this is the last day of work for marco, the other designer, as he moves off to raytheon for a new job. it’ll be a great move for him, though we aren’t exactly sure what the job will entail. the designers say they are «busy» but he never saw any of them hustle, and one giant wall is filled with markers, paints and brushes — all those art goodies we rarely have time to even think about using here. it is a great move for him, and he’s learned a fair amount the last 16 months. 16 months. before that was joe, then kerrie, then kara and before that i forget. what does this make me feel? old. i’ve been doing this here since well before photoshop came out. i don’t stretch my illustration wings often, but i can bust out production and have a good eyer for color and design. but i feel old. i am the one that doesn’t die, the one that watches others come and go.
it makes me wonder about my future. will i be able to do this for another 25+ years seeing how i’ve been doing it 16 already? will i [we] be able to save for retirement and i won’t have to shuffle around at mcdonalds or walmart? can i stay «capable» with the software? should i move somewhere else, maybe inside a large company and be an art director over a bunch of younger artists? can i do that for a long time? we’ve spent time dreaming about what our life will look like as we age, including cars for the kids, college, and weddings. can i make more money someplace else, and is it just about the money? i don’t do a lot of creative things [i’m sure i’ve mentioned this before] — so i still have it?
so marco is gone, and i get to do all the work for a while until we find someone else and we break them in. i should try to freelance — though the time and effort saps me, it is good money and satisfying work.
the above photo is crazy spencer, probably pushing two years ago. he always wanted to nap in his crib and i suppose sarah was doing something so he put himself to sleep UNDER the crib. it was as close as he could get. he only used one pacifier. trevor used 3 or 4. one his mouth and one or two in each hand. maybe they warm up like pillows do, where it feels good to flip it and have a cool side. he would pop one out and put another in. sometimes every 5 minutes. corcor had an old blanket she called her «deedle-deedle», and her play shoes were «lacka-leekas». kids are fun.
it is the day after another fun election day. i really know so very little, and i think some people get too bent out of shape over the «rightness» of things [i SHOULD have picked VANILLA! now nothing will go right!] and my undereducated guess is that far more is put into the right-wrongness of politics than there really is. i just can't get that black and white. i take those online tests [and not the stupid ones that just try to polarize you to either of the animal parties] and i'm neither of those two. unfortunately, it seems much of the evangelical world equates christian with republican with american. that is too simple. i often joke that we need to start a class at church for democrats as they are unwelcome any where else. as a friend wrote [and hopefully i won't need to come back here 3 years from now and say «see, people were thinking that already»:
In a strange way, I'm hoping that Democrats don't win the Senate. IF the U.S. ever pulls out of Iraq, that place is going to become a humanitarian nightmare -- even worse than it already is -- and I don't want a Democratic-controlled Congress to be blamed for it when the 2008 Presidential race rolls around. How cynical is that? I hate to think of Iraq in such grossly political terms, but there you go.
i need to make some t-shirts. one of them would be for nasa, «the nasa international lawn dart team». on it would be the three failures in the last 5[?] years. two to mars that failed [one where they got the english-metric confusions] and gemini[?] that was collected solar dust or something and the chute didn’t open on return. we are good at hitting things hard.
the other would be much a bit more odd — what if the gasses around jupiter were highly flammable and nasa sent a probe through the atmosphere? i could see jupiter burning up its atmosphere and having a burnt whisp left in its place. first pluto gets the boot, now jupiter. interesting note — that huge gassy ball rotates every 10 hours, so much so that there is an equatorial bulge.
tucson should be hitting 1 million people soon, though i would think that it is the metro area, not just city limits. a million. that is a lot. my parents like to walk around the university as all the ball fields and open areas they played on are now buildings. i can remember a lot of 2 lane roads that are now 6, not to mention dirt roads. we have filled up. i wonder how we will fare in the middle of the city with traffic. we can’t get more people where we are, but will other people drive past us while going from point to point?
i was talking with a friend a few days ago about the weather back in DC. the leaves were already gone and winter was there. that seemed so quick — we are still wearing shorts and flip flops well after dark. another friend had told me about a guy in ICU that lost track of time and got «ICU» creepies, hallucinating and thinking people were after him. supposedly it happens a lot to people in the «constant-day» lighting of the ICU. add in how tired myself and other are and i wondered about cycles.
everywhere else but here [okay, more than just here — it just sounds more fun to say] there are cycles forced upon us by the seasons. there is the long fun in the summer [which are quite short — not 8 months long like here] and then it closes down in the winter, darker and slower and not as fast paced. we don’t get that — we can be full-on most of the time [the heat can keep us in, but we have pools and stay out late in the night to make up for it].
we don’t get a down time unless we choose it. we stay ON all the time, or at least until we break down.
so my suggestion last night was to try it, to try to force ourselves into a bit of a down cycle and slow down the revs. we can’t maintain that pace. we’ll be taking two weeks off and maybe on those empty nights there can be more curling up with a book, more sitting on a porch with a chimenea watching the sun set and the stars come out, more time not having to do something but just be. to close down some, to self reflect and churn over what has been going on, that would be a good thing. reacting and planning all the time doesn’t leave room for those kinds of things.
in this, though, i was thinking of all those times where i was with people but not really with them — as well as times when i was alone. there was the previously mentioned tree i would play in, times that i would pretend i invented things and sell the items and kept track of r&d and profit, and times floating in rivers on innertubes. once again rem’s «nightswimming» song came up. not only does the sound of the song bring back good memories, but one of the lines is:
nightswimming deserves a quiet night.
I'm not sure all these people understand.
so here is for making space for those things that deserve a quiet night.
[how we will do that with a house full of kids is the tricky part — it must be done WHILE, not WITHOUT]
jehn barfed at our house twice last night. she excels at barfing. she asked to have her back cracked and we were afraid i'd push the barf out of her. i didn’t.
el tour de tucson is here! well, almost. everyone serious heads out at 7am [brrrr] and the fast guys will be done by 11.30 — it could be a record breaker this year. i’m still hoping for a 4 hour ride. at 9am nieghbors clay and erica will ride with the middle two on the 4 mile ride [i’ll take photos and help wrangle spencer] then spencer rides the 1/4 mile at 9.45. after we get home, i'll leave close to 11 to get to the far northwest corner at the 35 mile start [12.30] and ride with my team while we surround the mayor and his family. it might be a long ride. i’ve been making little cycling bug stickers to put on the kids bikes. i had to put one on mine [as well as my signature]. you can click on the image below to see a larger version of the poster:
i finally got to see a completed jersey. i really like them [and why don’t i do jobs like this ALL the time? do i need to go somewhere else? freelance?] and people seemed excited about them too. we’ll see how many they sell [and how quickly] and that will be part of the +/- of it all. jerseys, shorts, long sleeve jackets, socks, posters, etc — lots and lots of ocotillo branch/cyclist bug/stained glass mountain images.
spencer made me sit on blankets in a circle around him so that he could read me a story [he was the teacher]. he has been getting a deep cough and he stopped and his throat was clogged. he tried to clear it [i remember that feeling, a small tube clogged with barely melted cheese] and after a few tries he looked up at sarah and i with a slightly startled face. «i not talking» was what he quietly whispered, paused, then with both hands started hitting the sides of his head, then his body, then made a little a [head and feet on the ground, butt up] and pounded his legs.
it was hard not to laugh at the poor little guys frustration. he has been a handful the last month. had he been born first, i would have a den to draw in and to keep my bikes.
things i wonder:
plants breathe in CO2 and pump out O2. i’ve been selfish, thinking about it was all about helping humans. remember my ramble about how i was surprised that a sunflower could grow so rapidly in our crappy tucson soil. but maybe that isn’t true — where does all that carbon go? plenty gets made into carbohydrates via photosynthesis, but is that where the plants get the raw material to build themselves? i am thinking yes.
i also know that planes have an easier time taking off in cold [dense] air from friends stories and the equations they use as well as people getting bumped from flights at 4pm in phoenix in july. how about the space shuttle? is it harder/easier to get into orbit and/or carry more weight when the air is warm or cold? which? and does it matter? i wish i knew.
this is the last day of work for marco, the other designer, as he moves off to raytheon for a new job. it’ll be a great move for him, though we aren’t exactly sure what the job will entail. the designers say they are «busy» but he never saw any of them hustle, and one giant wall is filled with markers, paints and brushes — all those art goodies we rarely have time to even think about using here. it is a great move for him, and he’s learned a fair amount the last 16 months. 16 months. before that was joe, then kerrie, then kara and before that i forget. what does this make me feel? old. i’ve been doing this here since well before photoshop came out. i don’t stretch my illustration wings often, but i can bust out production and have a good eyer for color and design. but i feel old. i am the one that doesn’t die, the one that watches others come and go.
it makes me wonder about my future. will i be able to do this for another 25+ years seeing how i’ve been doing it 16 already? will i [we] be able to save for retirement and i won’t have to shuffle around at mcdonalds or walmart? can i stay «capable» with the software? should i move somewhere else, maybe inside a large company and be an art director over a bunch of younger artists? can i do that for a long time? we’ve spent time dreaming about what our life will look like as we age, including cars for the kids, college, and weddings. can i make more money someplace else, and is it just about the money? i don’t do a lot of creative things [i’m sure i’ve mentioned this before] — so i still have it?
so marco is gone, and i get to do all the work for a while until we find someone else and we break them in. i should try to freelance — though the time and effort saps me, it is good money and satisfying work.
on my ride in this morning i was wondering that if corporations are defined as having rights as a person and what their personality is, what would my church’s personality be?
no, not like «cranky» or «good with kids» but deeper. is it manic? is it psychotic? does it follow and change to the latest fads like a 14 year old girl whose whole identity is created from the outside [not who it is]? is it responsible? does it have integrity? is it self-serving? is it numb? can it love and be loved? does it have repetitive damaging behavior? does it make a good friend.
i wonder...
i keep forgetting to blog this, but a few weeks ago i rode hard and made most of the lights. i ended up getting home in 16'38", averaging 23.4mph [compared to 19-20" and averaging around 21]. each red light drops the average about .5mph and that has to be made up, so i was moving. tuesday night i was stopped behind a city bus and i accellerated as it did and the silly bus stayed in my lane. i haven't put the battery back in my computer yet, but i'm sure i was close to 40+ mph while drafting. oh yes, «i put a battery back in my computer». that little batter lasted 4 years. not bad, little electronic thing.
i get tired of people making sin out to be a thing instead of a choice. sin, for the most part, is telling God «no», or «thanks for the input, but i’ll be doing it my way». mmm, «no» is probably better.
i am whupped yet again. sarah and i cleaned my office friday night and i felt like i was on a death march. i’ve got nothing left in me. i woke up at 12.30am and worked on a client’s website, then at 5.30am to work on a different site. at 11am i took the boys to a birthday party, got home and lay down for 20 minutes [slept 15 of that] and then off to allie’s piano recital a the university hospital. i think the kids ranged from 3 to low 20s, some really really good [and a few that fit that awkward stereotype of the kid who stays inside and plays piano]. as they were handing out rewards, spencer hollers «do i get one?» and then later as the kids were getting up and down to play he asks again «my turn now?» — it wasn’t. as we drove to a post piano celebration dinner with sarah’s parents we discover that the game they left to come listen to allie had a big turnaround. we were losing 17-3 to #8 in the country and pulled off a 24-20 win. spencer was freaked out by the heaters on the sides of the patio eating area and we got home close to 8pm. ugh.
sunday there was a meeting after church and allie and courtney had problems getting food before singing [and they lost $10 and neither would own up to it but blamed everyone else. what is up with this ability not to own up to things?] and once we got home i left to go buy a football before park hours. i’ve always wanted a football but never had one. i had nerf footballs that we played in the street with [years and years of streetball, endzones defined by mailboxes and driveways] but every real game, all of my friends all brought good footballs. now i have one, though not a REAL game ball but a less expensive version [who wants to blow $80 on a ball]. at 4 we headed over to the park with 5 other families, tossing balls, riding bikes, kickballs and kites galore. clay pulled a hamstring quickly, but he could chuck the ball. we moved over to kickball [8 or 9 on a side] and played until it got dark. i think i fell asleep on the couch around 8.15, and tonight i expect to be in bed by 8.
go here the next few days and look for my name — it’ll be gone soon. i’ll have lost my platinum status on one of the poorer days of the tour [not as many people made it under 5 hours if i remember correctly].
i really need to focus and put in a good year of training/racing. that takes a certain amount of energy, though. i posted some of the el tour artwork here.
my uncle took a photo when we were kids at his home in prescott, az. it became known as «the village idiots» photo. my 3 cousins are the toehead ones, then my brother and sister and i [very serious] along with a foster kid. none of us look quite right. i just needed to share it.
i also need to share this one. i had a friend going to vet school in washington state and she would send me fun packages. once i got a vet glove [that is where the drawing below came from] and plenty of others. on valentines day she sent a package where hershey kisses and other chocolates [all wrapped] were nestled in the brown packing paper. as we unfolded more an more of it [and more chocolate] we came down to the core. it was a long plastic bag with a completely dissected front leg of a dog. they claws were still intact, but everything else was gone. so much for eating the chocolates [i believe someone gave them to a customer]. can you mail that stuff over state lines? we didn’t know and i took it to a friends house where we all laughed and threw it away. i think his nieghbors cat found it and drug it around for a while.
more trips down memory lane, this time with some friends that have moved away and i miss very very much. i won’t name them, and i’m sure i’ll get an email soon with «i can't believe you told everyone!» but it is worth it. things such as this are not meant to be kept in the dark.
the guy got a summer job here and stayed on, and nothing really happened until we went to a football game. i came up to the section with 40+ of people i knew and started working my way through the crowd from left to right. he came from the other side and went through the crowd from right to left. halfway through the game we passed and gave each other quizzical looks and kept talking with friends. on monday at work we both asked, «how do you know everyone i know and we have never met?»
we were friends.
he met his wife in san diego and she is great. one great aspect of her [back then, not so much now because she doesn’t do it] is that she says the most improper things at the right time and didn’t realize it. she got a job at the same shop and was set on menial tasks. she was getting tired of these semi-useless jobs and one day she spoke on it. dropping her shoulder, letting out a sad sigh, she announced, «i am such a piss-on». oh, she meant peon, she just spoke the wrong word that happened to be so appropriate. another time she was folding paper and creasing the fold with a flat folding bone. it may really have been bone, too, but i know others are plastic. she was folding slowly and the both needed to leave at the end of the day so her soon-to-be husband joined in. he was working so much faster and she stopped and said, «honey, you are such a good boner.» folding was never quite the same.
the ultimate came later, and maybe it was because most of us were in a spot [of imaturity] where we couldn’t participate in this conversationally in a healthy way, but it still makes me laugh. there were the three couples [all married now] sitting around talking and i’m not even sure of the topic but she says, «you know X [my husband] isn’t circumcised» and with that conversational bombshell we looked to see his response and his eyes were huge. there was a bit more talk and then an awkward pause which i ended with, «hey X, i guess i got to know a little bit more about you, seeing how there is a little bit more about you to know.»
their kids! oh my, they are great. calvin and hobbes have nothing on their imagination. i wish they were back here.
i still haven’t gotten around to talking about the tour, have i? i will, i promise. but first, i made it into the «jersey of the week».
jehn emails this:
i have a mouse in my bed. an actual mouse
i swear i shall never have a normal mouse.
a normal mouse? she has an abnormal one? she didn’t mean to write that.
when i got up this morning sarah was moving around in the kitchen and the first thing i saw was our poor fish cinderalla. she had grown huge, her body a shiny white, at least 6 inches long and her tail fins were 4 inches in height. i should have paid more attention to her, at least taken some photos of her. i never knew she was sad or lonely. i wish i would have known. i found her partially stuck to the floor, dried out and cold. poor little fish.
rex, true to his non-dog nature, either passed over her or couldn't smell her. he isn’t a dog. real dogs are smell enabled.
yes, a long break between blogging spells but i've had my right index finger in a huge bandage. the story: after spending the morning doing i'm not sure what [cleaning?] we were about to load up around 12.30 to go to th in-laws for turkey at 1. i was trying to clean our watering hole and was to backflush the filter one more time and then let it clean while we were gone. the handle that changes the water’s direction was stuck so i got a better grip and pulled. i would like to say i pulled the handle off in my hand but i never really held it — as soon as it snapped off and i felt my hand scrape something i let it fly. i saw blood and clinched my finger shut with the infamous «ohnonononono» going through my mind. i opened and shut my finger to make sure it still worked and i glimpsed ragged skin in a beautiful crimson pool. crap. i shuffled through my house and yelled to sarah and the kids to wait, i was going over to lisa’s as i cut myself. lisa is our ex trauma nurse and she knows her stuff. as i got up to her lawn her son asked what i had caught [good one — my fist was closed like that] and her husband’s college team was showing up [he coaches the weight men & women — huge people]. i slid in and asked if she could look at my hand and no, we should open my hand elsewhere, some place we could clean up. «most definitely» was the response over the bathroom sink.
sarah dropped me off at st. joe’s after a quick call to the in-laws that i would be very late. the triaged and re-wrapped my hand like a club and i waited for them to call me. i watched ambulance after ambulance come in, knowing that i was getting bumped further back. when i got in they numbed me up well, spraying my finger with compressed air to freeze my skin before they stuck me. oh how do i hate needles [later there was a nice line of pooled blood from the needle hole]. hand bleed a lot and hurt, too. the first time he tried to clean my gouge i could feel it, so he left to wait for the shots to kick in. i'm slow with drugs, especially dental work. huge syringes flooding the wound showed no damage to the important parts of my finger and i got a «running whip stitch» on my finger. no, i’m just channeling grey’s anatomy, but it was one long stitch [7 loops]. then i got my tetanus booster. evil hospital people.
during my reheated kanksgiving dinner i got to retell my story and i obsessed a bit. it consumed a fair amount of my time, most notably at home. i kept asking sarah «is my finger warm?» as feeling had yet to return [oh yes, when they were bandaging/cleaning blood off, they pushed my hand around a lot. when the pushed my numb finger against my thumb i did not know it was my own finger and thought they were moving my hand back. i moved it all the way across my chest]. it was still warm. i couldn’t tell until the next morning. we went hiking with friends to see some petroglyphs which i’ll cover in december, and somewhere along there while reaching for spencer i pulled a loop. crap.
now i’ve got this piece of fleshy bubble gum sticking out in the deep hole in my hand. they had to pull the skin together as i lost a good piece of flesh which i later found on the pool pump like a piece of grated cheese. lisa schemed and knew that i would probably rip out the stitches if i went back in to get restitched so i will wait until the sides of the inch long cut heals. then i can get a small criss-cross fix. more needles and numbing. evil pool pump.
and his little friend:
