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I haven't had time to caption them yet -- and I'm about to leave to take Shobhit to the airport -- but you can click on the image to be taken to the gallery of photos I took early this afternoon of Shobhit playing Evans in The Merry Wives of Windsor, kicking off the Outdoor Theatre Festival at Volunteer Park.

It was the only chance Barbara and I had to see Shobhit in one of these plays in Seattle proper, as all the rest of them are up north, outside King County. I switched my plan to see Bruno with Barbara from today to last night, just so we could go see this play today.

And it was very entertaining, at least what I saw of it. Shobhit and I were up really late dancing last night -- our first time at both R Place and Neighbours since before we moved to this condo (in the past we always went to the Cuff because that's only a block away) -- which meant I got only about five hours of sleep last night, maybe less. The result? I slept through the second half of this play. And Barbara said that part was way better! Dammit. I might just go see it again on another one of the dates just so I can see the whole thing.

After the play was over, we all walked back home, stopping off at Caffe Ladro on 15th for a nice cold drink -- mine was a delicious strawberry banana frozen drink, yum! And then I drove Shobhit to a rehearsal at Seattle Center, and then we made dinner, and then we watched a couple DVD episodes of The Dick Van Dyke Show, and now I gotta go!
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July 11, 2009

July 10, 2009

Tags: the daily shobhit

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-- MDXLVIII --

I don't know how many other people are with me on this, but I'm really excited about Light Rail, which has its grand opening on Saturday, July 18. Free rides all weekend! Unfortunately, I'm thinking about taking Becca on a day trip to Mt. St. Helens on the 18th, then spending the night on Olympia on the way back, which kind of pre-empts any presence at the ribbon-cutting ceremony, which I'd actually totally want to be at otherwise.

This has been a long time coming, largely, I think, because Seattle just likes to take its dear sweet time. Barbara likes to mention how she marveled the sight of a street being completely torn apart and replaced in a single day when she visited her daughter in Arlington, Virginia once. Apparently city workers in that area really like to get shit done. Seattle, on the other hand -- we like to process. And then do environmental studies. And then process some more. And then put the final decision up to a public vote . . . four times, in some cases!

(Oh, what a glorious thing an expanded Monorail would have been! But that's a separate conversation.)

The thing is, generally speaking, Seattle's public transit system is patently pathetic. Part of it is Seattle's unusual layout, necessitating detours around water all over the place, but most of it is a lack of civic leadership, frankly. Granted, King County Metro generally works very well for me, but that's only because I have always lived either downtown or close to it, around which all of Metro centers. But if you live in, say, Madison Valley, and you want to get to Ballard in a timely manner? Unless you have a car, you're fucked. This is the case for routes between a great many different Seattle neighborhoods.

Seattle is one of very few cities of its size and significance without a rail transit system of any kind -- until next weekend! But this should have been done ages and ages ago. But they didn't even start planning this until a little over a decade ago (well, this version, at least; they first planned it so long ago, but waited so long to do anything, that the technology became obsolete and that's why they had to close the downtown Metro tunnel between 2005 and 2007 for retrofitting). And even this line, opening next weekend, only runs between the Metro tunnel and Tukwila. At least they plan to have an extension running all the way to the airport by the end of the year.

I remember very first getting a mailer about Light Rail during the first year I lived here, back in 1998. The information noted that the long-range plan didn't have a full-size, regionally integrated rail system scheduled to be completed until around . . . 2020! I couldn't believe it.

Eleven years later, we're finally about to open the initial segment -- and nothing more (for now). For a while, I was getting really excited about the prospect of the University Link, which would connect downtown to the U District via Broadway on Capitol Hill. After all, they've already broken ground for the Capitol Hill station, having removed buildings I've been familiar with for the past decade (not that I'm all that sad to see that grimy Jack in the Box go, mind you). But then I realized, the University Link doesn't open for service until . . . 2016. I'll be forty that year! And I don't even know if I'll still be living on Capitol Hill then (although right now I kind of hope I will be, unless I somehow get rich enough to buy a downtown penthouse).

So, you know . . . mark your calendars! They even plan on opening Light Rail for service all the way up to Northgate . . . in 2020.

And, hooray! -- even a light rail line from downtown Seattle to Redmond via Bellevue! In 2021.

Not that I'm ever all that eager to go to Redmond, but it's nice to know I could take a Light Rail jaunt over there when I'm 45.

This is a pretty cool map of the full, long-term plan, though.

And the glacial pace notwithstanding, I'll be excited just to be able to take the smooth-running train, rather than an express bus, between downtown and the airport. In fact, I'm thinking I might even take Becca via Light Rail to Tukwila on Monday the 20th when I take her back to the airport. They say there will be bus shuttles between the Tukwila station and the airport, and I still want to experience Light Rail earlier than later! In spite of all my complaints about how long they're taking, I think I'm really going to like the Light Rail service, however limited it might be initially -- it's still way better than being forced to rely exclusively on buses!

-- MDXLVIII --



-- MDXLVIII --

What else can I yammer on about today? I finally finished my Book Club book yesterday, reading it while walking home and then finishing the last 15 pages while at the Capitol Hill library so I could return it as soon as I was done. It was a decent book but also had a fair amount of lapses in logic; I give it a solid B, which means it was good but I'm not going to be jumping at any chance to recommend it to others.

I really liked the author's note (by John Shors) in the back, though, as he wrote about a program he did with his first novel, Beneath a Marble Sky -- he actually invited people to include him in their book club discussions, and sat in (usually via speakerphone) on over a thousand of them. What a great idea! The idea itself apparently garnered some media attention, which then made the program itself explode in popularity. He didn't offer the exact same service for this book (Beside a Burning Sea), but he did provide an email address.

Had I finished the book before Book Club on Wednesday, I would have mentioned this in our discussion. I was surprised no one else in the group did.

One of the book members started a Facebook group for us, although getting to a point where we can all actually join is an ongoing issue. I thought it was pretty clever of Janette to title it "Eat, Drink, Read" -- until I discovered about five other Facebook groups with the exact same name. Oh well! It still accurately describes our group -- which, of course, relatively recently read the massively popular Eat, Pray, Love.

Anyway, I then walked the rest of the way home, getting there at around 7:00. I have the first two discs now of the first season of The Dick Van Dyke Show, which I had never seen, and we watched the very first episode. I know that's supposed to be one of the greatest classic TV shows ever, but a lot of times even the greatest TV shows don't start with their very best material. Given that expectation, the first episode was actually pretty good, and very much showcased Dick Van Dyke's ample talents. Even Shobhit chuckled several times, so I'm looking forward to watching the rest of them with him.

We also watched the other night's Letterman episode with Sacha Baron Cohen on it, and then watched The View, so we spent pretty much our entire evening staring at the TV -- and then Shobhit had two conference calls for work.

Shobhit leaves for a week-long improv workshop in the mountains of New York State tomorrow night (he flies into Newark and then has to figure out a way to bus the rest of the way). His flight back is scheduled to arrive about 48 minutes after Becca's scheduled to land on Friday the 17th, so I'll be picking them both up at the same time. So "business as usual" is going to be taking a break for the next week and a half or so.

-- MDXLVIII --


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July 9, 2009

Tags: the daily shobhit

July 8, 2009

Tags: the daily shobhit

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-- MDXLVII --

Blah blah blah blah. Blah.

-- MDXLVII --

I walked up Capitol Hill yesterday after work to meet with Barbara at Pagliacci Pizza for dinner, and then we walked over to the Harvard Exit to see Moon, which was pretty good, although not nearly as good as the films that clearly inspired it (from the production design perspective, I saw a lot of Alien; from a thematic perspective, a lot of 2001: A Space Odyssey). I still rather enjoyed it.

I opted not to walk home first with the intent of making headway on my Book Club book, Beside a Burning Sea, which I am enjoying, although admittedly I'm mostly motivated to read it as much as I have been this week by the looming Book Club date -- which is, actually, today.

The book was already three weeks overdue once I finally managed to renew it. The last time I tried to renew it, I couldn't because there was a hold on it. Don't worry! There are seven copies, and most of the time at least one of the is checked in. So it's not that big a deal that I've been hogging it for so long. (I started it on June 18).

I'd sure like to find another book, though, that makes me feel like I have no choice but to keep reading it. That's really the only way I can finish any book in a timely manner. Otherwise, I set it down and forget about it in favor of things like LiveJournal, Twitter, Facebook, TiVo and Netflix.

I really want to try and read Jane Austin's Pride and Prejudice for the first time, though. Why? Because I'm extremely interested in Seth Grahame-Smith's Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, but I really want to have read the original first!

-- MDXLVII --



-- MDXLVII --

I wonder if clothing fits more comfortably, in general, on physically fit people? Or do their clothes persistently bunch up in weird places too?

Speaking of ways in which most people don't want to be thinking about my body, I made it a point to tell Kibby and Jared yesterday that Justin's Nut Butter is going to be on sale in September. I like mentioning Justin's Nut Butter because it just sounds so disgusting.

So we had an exchange that went a little like this:

Me: "They'd better boost their inventory for September, so they meet demand!"

Jared: "I'm sure they're taking donations, Matthew."

Me: "Yeah, they could start selling Matthew's Nut Butter! All I need is a plastic cup and a spatula."

Kibby laughed really hard when I said that. I was pretty pleased with myself.

-- MDXLVII --

I really want a sugar cookie right now. The kind with clear sugar sprinkles on it. But not the boxed kind, or even a really crunchy one -- one that is bakery-fresh and just soft enough.

Mmm . . .

-- MDXLVII --


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July 7, 2009

Tags: the daily shobhit

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-- MDXLVI --

Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson! Bah!

I'll admit: his death has made me listen to more of his music in the past week and a half than I listened to in probably the past year and a half (I did still listen to him semi-regularly and had all of his albums, or at least all of them since 1979's Off the Wall). And I will also admit that I watched yesterday's The View primarily because they had been on vacation over the course of this incredibly huge-news-filled couple of weeks and I wanted to know what they'd have to say about it all, including the death of Michael Jackson.

But today, I'm getting close to over it. The problem is, today is his memorial service -- which I have not seen any coverage of at all, but have seen a lot of references to, both on LiveJournal and on Twitter. (I think the best Twitter feed has to be that of someecards at the moment -- there's always room for their particular brand of snark, especially when it comes to an over-exposed celebrity, even in death.) One person on my friends list even mentioned their work place having a pizza party to watch it! What the fuck? Has there been any other celebrity memorial more of a media circus since Princess Di? If she was the biggest death of the nineties, then Michael Jackson is certainly the biggest death of this decade.

One thing Joy Behar said, which I think is a very good point, is that CNN had massive news coverage of the Michael Jackson death, with the news of North Korea's nuclear weapons reduced to a crawl at the bottom of the screen. "Those should be reversed!" she said. Indeed.

And I already tweeted about this a few minutes ago, but I need to say it here too, once again -- mostly because of what Whoopi Goldberg said about "her friend" Michael Jackson. (Incidentally, the biggest evidence she gave of his being her friend was his presence at her audition for The Color Purple. Huh?) She said, first of all, that she would leave her children alone with him -- I wouldn't. Secondly, she said she never thought sex was a part of Michael Jackson's world, and he related best to children.

Fuck, I'm so sick of that! I'd be a lot more apt to buy that bullshit if it weren't for his career-spanning, on-stage, crotch-grabbing, which amounted to little more than playing with himself onstage. Okay, so I never noticed him with a hard-on when he did this (not that I'd ever want to imagine Michael Jackson with an erection, mind you), and the argument could also be made that even children play with themselves. But people have this bizarre tendency to forget that however fucked up he might have been, he was still a grown man, and his crotch-grabbing groin-thrusting was indicative of a very adult sexuality, something he conscientiously wove into the fabric of his persona. He may have spent a lot of his time thinking like a child, but when he was performing, he never performed like a child.

No one will ever convince me that sex was not a part of Michael Jackson's world. The guy had children, for fuck's sake! I still maintain that I don't consider him a pedophile, but I also still maintain that he demonstrated a clear lack of understanding of what was appropriate behavior with children. I do suspect that this was something he separated from the sexuality he displayed onstage, and people were very quick to try linking the two -- and I don't really think such a link actually existed. But I do think sexuality was very much a part of his world, and something he understood at an adult level. Anyone trying to say now that he was nothing more than an overgrown child are engaging in revisionist history. It's amazing to me how no one at all in the media is talking about that part of him, and it's kind of driving me crazy.

-- MDXLVI --



-- MDXLVI --

I didn't get very much exercise yesterday. I would have walked home, but Elin gave me too many samples to take home which weighed down my bag too much, so I took the bus -- reading Beside a Burning Sea the whole way. It's not spectacular, but I am enjoying it. I'm only a little over halfway through, though, so I'm not sure if I'll get it done in time for tomorrow's book club meeting. It's looking less and less likely.

Shobhit took a couple of hours later than usual to get home, which was why I watched The View before we got to our latest Netflix title -- Disney's The Sword in the Stone. I often forget that almost that entire movie is focused on the relationship between wizard Merlin and a pubescent Arthur, both of them going through a sequence of magical adventures together: they become fish; they become squirrels; Merlin engages in a wizard's duel against Mad Madame Mim. Magic, magic, magic, evidently with the purpose of teaching Arthur valuable life lessons -- and then suddenly at the end, Arthur finds the sword stuck in an anvil and yanks it out. Presto! He's King Arthur. This plot structure is patently ridiculous, but I've always enjoyed that movie anyway. When I visited Dad and Sherri during summers as a kid and they let me watch their Disney videos, this was one of the ones I watched the most often.

Shobhit spent almost the first half of the movie not really watching, but rather insisting he was "listening" while he got up to do everything from go to the bathroom to cook a meal (after he already ate the one I made -- all told he pretty much had three dinners) to washing a couple of dishes and more. It drove me crazy. A movie like this isn't exactly a work of staggering genius, but a huge part of enjoying it comes in, you know, actually seeing the visuals. There are a lot of charming sight gags in it which certainly don't translate into the soundtrack alone.

But, by the last half, he was finally focused on it, so now I'm confident he'll have an adequate frame of reference when we see the sword in the stone at Disneyland.

We've got everything book for the Disneyland trip, by the way, with the exception of the actual park tickets, which we still need to buy. But we have the car rental, hotel reservations and flight bookings all taken care of. We fly down there on Monday September 28 and fly back on Monday October 5. Those were the dates Shobhit wanted, so I went with them -- that weekend at the end coincides with Gay Days. I always want a one-day-off buffer between coming home from a trip like that and coming back to work, so I'm going to take off October 6 too, which will mean taking off seven work days in a row -- that may be a record, I'm not sure. I've taken off 6 days in a row more than once, but I don't recall ever doing 7 in a row before.

I then wasted much of the rest of the evening watching TiVo-recorded episodes of The Golden Girls, The Family Guy and The Simpsons. Both TiVo and the Internet have taken over my life!

-- MDXLVI --


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July 6, 2009

Tags: the daily shobhit

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-- MDXLV --

Well, this is going to be a short-and-sweet DLU, because I've spent most of my lunch hour -- and, indeed, most of my morning (don't tell anybody!) -- constructing my own list based on the RottenTomatoes.com list "50 Movies for 50 States," which they presented in honor of the 4th of July. So now I've got a new fun project in which to partake!

Naturally, I want to watch 50 movies representing all 50 states now. The difference is that while Rotten Tomatoes lists them alphabetically by state, I want to watch them geographically -- or, at least, as geographically as I can by having my home state of Washington come in last. Thus, I think I'll start in Florida.

I have two key challenges to this plan, though. First, I'm not necessarily interested in all the films suggested by the site to be representative of the essence of that state -- either because the movie just doesn't sound very interesting to me (Nebraska: Children of the Corn? No thanks) or because even though the movie is perfectly good I've already seen it recently enough that I don't really want to watch it again (Mississippi: In the Heat of the Night; Kentucky: Coal Miner's Daughter). This was where the most time-consuming aspect of this little impromptu project came in, because I went looking up other movies set in all the states that had movie suggestions I don't want to watch, to come up with suitable alternatives. Some alternatives aren't that great but are better than nothing (Michigan: American Pie). I tended to eschew any documentary suggestions for this because I'd prefer uniformity in fictional state representations.

Admittedly I also used whether or not Shobhit would be likely to watch the movie with me as a factor. That alone pretty much counts any of the documentaries they suggested out.

The second challenge, of course, is space on my Netflix queue -- which, irritatingly, caps at 500 discs. Because I have a slew of multi-disc TV series in my queue, plus a ton of other movies as well as the entire catalog (of those available on DVD) of Disney animated features in there, my queue is currently at 497. So, I'll just have to save a draft of my list and use it for reference somewhere along down the line!

-- MDXLV --



-- MDXLV --

I can finally share with you my review of Public Enemies, which I saw with Barbara on Saturday morning at Pacific Place downtown -- it was the only part of the 4th of July I got to spend with her, because she had to work later in the day. The movie wasn't as great as I was expecting it to be, actually -- even though I still gave it a B+, I was actually somewhat disappointment. Not nearly enough character depth in my view.

-- MDXLV --

As for yesterday, it was mostly a day of just sort of going with the flow. When I couldn't figure out what the hell I wanted to have for lunch, Shobhit asked if I wanted to go out. When I pondered that idea, he suggested we use the balance on his gift card his work gave him some time ago for McCormick & Schmick's. It's a seafood place with very limited vegetarian options, but hey, free food is free food! So, we took the bus down to 1st Avenue for a late lunch.

Shobhit had a disappointing "salad" that consisted of nothing more than tomato slices, hunks of mozzarella, and light seasoning (for $8); I had eggs benedict without ham, which was actually quite delicious. We shared an absinthe cocktail that was something new for me, and a little too strong for my taste actually. And then we shared a Bailey's cheesecake slice that was so delicious I just about had a heart attack.

Then we spent some time meandering around Pike Place Market, before taking the bus back home in time to watch my Netflix copy of Easy Rider, which I had never seen before. I could appreciate the impact it had in 1969, but from my perspective here in 2009, my overall reaction was: "Eh."

-- MDXLV --


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July 5, 2009

At Shobhit's favorite Seattle spot.

Tags: the daily shobhit

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Well, I think I found a perfect place to take Becca this year -- the Center for Wooden Boats! I'd never heard of it until Karen told me about it, because her husband volunteers to work the Wooden Boat Festival every year over Fourth of July weekend -- and I'd never heard of that either. So, yesterday, Shobhit and I went down to check it out.

Apparently under normal circumstances, after Dave spends all day working the festival, Karen, Anita, and Karen's friend Diane go down to the Center for Wooden Boats property to watch the festival from there, after the festival is closed to the regular public. Nice! That's why I kind of asked her a few months ago if we could join them (if you want something, all you have to do is ask!). This year, though, because they are having massive renovations done to their house in Magnolia, they are temporarily living in an apartment on the corner of Dexter and Aloha. They'll be there until October.

And the view from their balcony was certainly more than adequate.

So, Shobhit and I went down to the Center for Wooden Boats at around 5:00, where we saw a spectacular LEGO model of the Titanic; looked at people's personal wooden boats, many of which were beautiful; and toured some larger boats.

We also discovered that they offer free boat tours on Lake Washington, not just at the festival but every Sunday -- which I think will be the perfect thing to take Becca on, if I can fit it into the schedule, rather than the Ride the Ducks tour, which will be more expensive. I'm kind of undecided about that, though; I was thinking about taking Becca on a day trip to Mt. St. Helens the Saturday of the weekend she comes, and then staying the night in Olympia on our way back -- so it would depend on when we got back to town on Sunday. Furthermore, I can't remember if susandennis has been able to take a Ride the Ducks tour yet, and I know she's been interested, so whether or not she'd want to join us for that could also force my decision. I'm kind of constrained by the CWB's 2 p.m. Sunday boat rides, and I was going to take Becca on the Ride the Ducks tour on Monday the 19th. (Also, I'm taking Becca to see Shobhit in The Taming of the Shrew in Snohomish early that evening, which could also crowd that Sunday too much if I go for the boat ride.

Anyway! The wooden boat festival was fun, and then we walked the few blocks over to Karen's place, where Anita kept saying things that cracked me up. Karen was always embarrassed by Anita not being polite to adults, which never really bothers me -- so I said, "She can be polite to anyone but me, how's that?" Karen seemed sort of okay with that.

When Anita came down to let us in the building, Shobhit was just being Shobhit -- with his very individualized mannerisms and gestures -- talking about being able to watch the fireworks from their balcony. Anita paused for just a moment while looking at him, and then said, "You're weird!" Ha! Maybe you had to be there, but it was funny.

Karen made a delicious vegetarian lasagna, which baked while we all (minus Dave, who continued volunteering at the festival, something he's apparently done every single year for more than twenty years) played Apples to Apples. After dinner, which was delicious, Karen suggested watching a movie. She had a Hindi movie, which Shobhit was surprisingly not much interested in watching -- and he rightly pointed out that we wouldn't have time to finish a three-hour movie. He saw that they had High School Musical and asked to watch that instead, so that's what we did.

I'm at a complete loss as to why that movie became a phenomenon. Zac Efron's pretty cute, though (hey! He was 19 in that movie -- totally legal!).

Then we all watched the fireworks from their balcony, which was a great place to see them from -- we had a great view, even if it was from the other side of the lake, and we were able to get home through the traffic with almost shocking ease. It's almost too bad Karen's only going to be living in that location this year!

As usual, click on the image for the full photo gallery.
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Tags: independence day

July 4, 2009

Tags: the daily shobhit

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So my almost-spontaneous afternoon activity started here -- susandennis posted an entry about a "giant blow up thingie" that was in the Qwest Field parking lot outside her condo building. I posted a comment saying I wanted to see a photo of this so-called "giant blow up thingie"; she obliged.

Because it turned out to be part of a promo for Disney's A Christmas Carol Train Tour, she suggested I come and check it out with her. I figured sure, why not? I just needed to wait until the office was closed early -- which did indeed happen at 2:00 -- and take the bus down to her neck of the woods.

Today's bus schedules were on holiday/Sunday schedules, but conveniently, the Metro Tunnel is now open on both holidays and Sundays, so I was able to take a #72 directly from Campus Parkway in the U District to the tunnel's International District Station, which is right across that very same parking lot from Susan's condo!

The first thing we did, naturally, was head for that giant blow up thingie -- where people working the event redirected us to the train. The existence of an actual, literal train had not registered to me, so I suddenly realized this whole thing was a lot more involved than I expected.

So we walked over to the train, wrapped in Disney's A Christmas Carol art just like buses wrapped in huge ads, and the first, and really only, thing Susan got excited about was the mist-fan. I have to admit: it really was awesome! And it gave Susan a stock response to people asking how she liked the train, which she was clearly not at all impressed with: "I loved the mist fan!" Without fail, the people she said this to found such a response perfectly acceptable.

Honestly, I wasn't hugely impressed with the interior of the train either. It was like a museum for both the original Dickens novel A Christmas Story and for this film version of it, as well as for the motion-capture technology used in the making of it. As far as all that goes, the exhibits didn't provide me any more information than I've already known for years.

I did get a few pretty decent photos with my iPhone, though (which begin my Independence Day Weekend photo gallery, accessed by clicking the photo above), and there was one kind of cool toy they had on the train: I could look into a camera and then use a touch-screen to have my face morphed into one of the A Christmas Carol characters. Susan helped me with it, and we ended up with a photo that was actually pretty hilarious -- single-handedly making the crowded movement through four train cars worth the time.

I had to provide an email address for the photo to be sent to, and I just tried to retrieve it -- only to be told it can take "up to a week" before it's available. Well, fine then!

So we got out of the train, and on our way back to the parking lot, we happened upon four people in full Charles Dickens period costumes. Keep in mind it was around 85° outside, and here these people were pretending -- and dressed like -- it was the dead of winter! Susan said, "I wonder who those people pissed off?"

Then we finally found our way back to the Giant Blow Up Thingie (GBUT). We were given 3-D glasses and filtered into a line to wait in. They had two snow-making machines which kind of lost their effect in clear skies and heat that pretty easily evaporated most of the manufactured flakes.

Then we started contemplating whether or not the people working the event were travelers on the train or locals. Then Susan suggested they were locals and probably temps. Actually, she called them "Kelly Girls."

Kelly Girls? Huh? So, I provided the only response that seemed appropriate to me: "Is that some kind of old-timey term that I don't know about?"

So Susan said, "You can bite my ass!"

She was just as surprised, actually, that I had never heard the term as I was that it was apparently once a universally recognized term for temp workers. Apparently there was a time when there was only one temp agency, and everyone who worked for them was referred to as a "Kelly Girl." Granted, I later found out this was a term from the 1960s, and I wasn't even born until the next decade!

After Susan got home, she emailed me with the subject line, "kelly girls -- your history lesson du jour," and with this link explaining it all. Ah, now I get it! I wrote her back suggesting that not only is the term largely generational, but also largely geographical -- Kelly Girls originated in the midwest and eastern states. It makes sense that Susan would have been more familiar with the term, given her origins in . . . North Carolina, if I remember right. (I swear half the non-relatives I know are from North Carolina originally -- including both Mom's husband bill and even Barbara).

In any event, they say you learn something new every day, so I guess that was my new thing for the day! I wonder if I taught Susan anything today? Probably, since she told me twice today that I was "the brains" of the operation. I guess I taught her how it's best to find seats nearest the exit when you want a quick getaway!

That little lesson occurred in the GBUT, which turned out not to be filled to capacity, but rather only about 30% capacity at best. We also saw ropes for really long lines that had not materialized, although with a huge soccer game apparently happening tomorrow, I'm sure the lines will increase dramatically after today. (And clearly, for us, today was the day to go.)

So then we saw our 3-D behind the scenes footage, which, surprisingly, impressed Susan more than it did me -- although that still doesn't mean much; it certainly didn't convince her that she needed to rush out to the theatre to see the movie when it opens. But it was something new to her, as she said it was the first time she'd seen a screen that large in 3-D (and given the nature of the blow-up structure, the screen was actually a fair amount smaller than most regular movie theatre screens).

I have to admit, a lot of the footage really lent itself to 3-D technology. The problem I still have is with motion capture, which no one but Peter Jackson (doing a massively impressive job on Gollum in the Lord of the Rings films) seems able to do right. The footage here was no exception: the intent is clearly for more realistic fluidity than when relying on animation alone, and yet the result is an acutely unnatural stiffness. None of the characters look convincingly natural as they move about.

I may still go see it, though. It depends mostly on the consensus of reviewers at the time of the movie's release -- which, incidentally, is not for another four months. When we were in the train I said, "It's so bizarre they're doing this in July," and the lady in front of me said, "Well, they need to get through the tour." I did check the map, and there's a rather large number of stops -- the final one being in New York in November. So that makes it make a little more sense.

I mean, aside from wondering if there's really much point in this kind of massive marketing investment. It's certainly different. Time will tell if it pays off.

So I bussed home, and when I walked in the door Shobhit was listening to my audiobook version of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince -- boning up for the July 15 release of the movie. Soon enough I got to pull him away from that so we could watch a Netflix copy of Stephen Spielberg's 1987 film Empire of the Sun, featuring a 13-year-old Christian Bale. I'd never seen it before -- and I won't need to see it again. I mean, it was okay, but it largely lacked focus, and that's a bad thing to be the case for a movie that's roughly half an hour too long.

But now I'm tired and I want to go to bed.
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July 3, 2009

Tags: the daily shobhit

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-- MDXLIV --

Hey, wait a minute -- what the hell? People told me when it was first announced that the cancellation of the Fourth of Jul-Ivar's fireworks show was only for this year and would return next year. Well, thanks to the West Seattle blog, I found Ivar's original press release about it, and "After 44 years, Ivar’s Seafood Restaurants has opted to discontinue its '4th of Jul-Ivar’s' community fireworks show" sure sounds permanent to me!

This really, really sucks. It means the expectation of 50,000 people at GasWorks Park alone is likely to continue every year indefinitely.

Well, at least we have access to non-crowded areas thanks to Karen! We'll be either watching the fireworks from the balcony of their temporary apartment on Dexter or from the Center for Wooden Boats where Dave volunteers, after hours.

-- MDXLIV --

By the way -- you're a hosebeast douchebag!

Okay, I didn't really mean that. I just wanted an excuse to say that.

-- MDXLIV --

. . . And so the suspense begins: when will Tracy close the office today?

It's difficult to directly compare this to last year -- and even then I mentioned the need to make note of it for future reference -- because both the day before the 4th and the 4th itself were on holidays. As such, the office was closed at 3:15 on the 3rd, and on the 4th Jennifer told us all to go home at 1:21.

This year the 3rd, being a Friday, is the only day to ponder early release. I have plenty of work to do so I can't really in good conscience just bag it and go whenever I please, even though I'm certain I could get away with it. But as soon as the closure is announced, I'm out of here -- why work hours I'll get paid for anyway if I don't have to? (Speaking of which, sometimes it amuses me how people assume more nobility of me than really exists.)

Most people are clearly taking the day off today. When I got off the bus and then crossed the street at Roosevelt this morning, Roosevelt was as empty as you might expect it to be at 2 a.m. on a normal day. It was almost spooky! At peak population, I'd say no more than a third of the office has been to work today, and plenty who have been here this morning have already gone.

Kibby's here today, but Jared isn't. Stephanie was here this morning, but Elin never came in. Russ came in, and Tracy has only been in for a little while. Jennifer's out, but that's because her dad's in the hospital (I keep wondering if maybe I'm jumping the gun by planning on suggesting to Kibby and Jared that we all chip in for flowers for her if her dad should die; I figure it best not to make that suggestion unless death actually occurs).

-- MDXLIV --

I have a new favorite saying, which a character says in the book I'm reading (Beside a Burning Sea by John Shors -- which is 14 days overdue). "Sure as a puppy piddles!" I need to come up with excuses to work that into conversations.

-- MDXLIV --



-- MDXLIV --

I've been getting this strange sensation whenever I find myself caught up on LiveJournal, Twitter and Facebook. It's nowhere near as satisfying as I consistently find myself expecting. Strangely, it seems to be a lot more satisfying when I'm in the process of catching up but know I have much more to catch up on! I think maybe I have a sickness.

-- MDXLIV --

I suppose now's as good a time as any to mention that Shobhit came with me last night to see Every Little Step, which I really enjoyed a lot.

For a little while there was hope that Laney would join us too, as she had checked my social calendar to see what I was up to (hooray, someone used that link for its intended purpose!), and suggested she join me. But then she had a last-minute work thing come up that prevented it. Drat!

She did tell me, though, that she got into the Seattle Women's Chorus's ensemble group, Sensible Shoes. Awesome! With Laney in it, they couldn't possibly be as boring as they've been in the past! (Although, as I said to Laney yesterday, to their credit, they were very entertaining at their last concert.) I can't help but wonder how the turnover works. Do members have term limits? Did someone retire? Did someone die? Maybe one of them actually sang like shit and they all finally faced the truth! Such a person would be good for Laney to replace, as then she could only improve things, right?

Apparently Laney doesn't like the name "Sensible Shoes," but I actually kind of like it. Subtle, yet uber-lesbian. That's what makes it work, in my opinion. On the other hand, maybe they should rename the group The Subaru Outbacks. Ha! I crack me up.

It really has been too long since I've seen Laney, though. And I've still never met her cat! That cat will be graduated from college before I finally see her for the first time.

Anyway, back to the movie! Shobhit and I walked home after the movie in silence -- companionable silence, don't worry -- so we really didn't discuss the movie at all. He's not much of a movie-discusser. I do think the movie spoke to him, though; even though he's neither a dancer nor a singer, I'm certain he could acutely relate to the audition process the film depicts. And I could tell that in the more emotional moments, he was getting just as touched and sniffly as I was. (And there are plenty such moments in that movie; go see it!)

When we got back to Pine Street, Shobhit asked if I wanted to get a cocktail at Purr, so I said sure. He had a Long Island Ice Tea and I had a Fuzzy Navel, which we both drank while sitting at a booth and playing with our iPhones. What a couple of boring geeks we are! But hey, catching up on Twitter is as good an activity as any while getting a nice buzz going.

Then we walked the rest of the way home.

-- MDXLIV --



-- MDXLIV --

1:13 EDIT: Breaking news! The office is closing at 2:00.
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July 2, 2009

Tags: the daily shobhit

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-- MDXLIII --

You may have noticed there was no DLU yesterday. And now that LoudTwitter has opted for the DNR option (something some of you here might actually be grateful for), there was no Twitter digest posted last night either, which would have otherwise explained: I had to report for jury duty, and, not having a laptop, I had no means for writing a regular DLU on my lunch break.

Suffice it to say that I am back at work today, as I ended up excused by mid-afternoon yesterday. And now I'll tell you all about how I got to that point!

First of all, I had to get up half an hour earlier than usual yesterday, setting my alarm for 5:15. I got to bed at a fairly decent hour the night before, so under normal circumstances half an hour (I usually get up at 5:45) shouldn't make much of a difference. The problem on Tuesday night/Wednesday morning, however, is that I did not sleep well at all. Part of it was the knowledge that I had to get up earlier than usual, which always makes it difficult to get a good night's sleep, but another big part of it was waking up sometime around 4 a.m. to the sounds of what sounded like a recycling or garbage truck slowly working its way down the street, its incredibly large clanging and clashing of crap being dumped into the truck repeating over and over. This made it difficult to get back to sleep again for a while.

As a result, I found myself nodding off far more often than usual, not just at the most typical times of day, but all day. The 75-minute bus ride to the Regional Justice Center in Kent (#10 from home to downtown; #150 from downtown to Kent) was pretty easily passed, since I snoozed for probably two thirds of the trek.

And although the bus ride was irritatingly long by most people's standards (it really surprised me to learn there's no express bus to downtown Kent -- you can get to the airport faster, and it's further away), I have to admit it was really quite easy. The Regional Justice Center -- a surprisingly lovely and well-designed building -- was literally around the corner from my bus stop.

Once I was past the security check and inside, though, it became clear that I could have pretty easily gotten away with not getting there for another hour or so; I think people were still straggling into that juror waiting room for at least that long. But, being the perpetually punctual person that I am, I made sure I was there by 8 a.m. because that's what the paperwork said to do, hence the needed 5:15 wake-up time.

(As a side note, it seems my having to go to the RJC was an unfortunate result of bad timing. I did a little online research to see if I could figure out why the fuck I had to report to Kent rather than downtown Seattle, and I actually got some interesting answers. In the past, apparently anyone living in Seattle was assigned to the downtown courthouse, along with other King County residents living north of I-90. Everyone else in the county -- south of Seattle or otherwise south of I-90 -- was assigned to Kent. This would explain why I was sent downtown when I served on a jury in 2000. But then some schmuck who was going to be tried for drug possession in Seattle challenged the rule, saying it "resulted in exclusion and underrepresentation of jurors with a diversity of income, homeownership and education backgrounds." So, the geographic jury assignments were suspended in April 2008. But guess what? In February of this year, the state Supreme Court upheld the rule as constitutional, thereby allowing it to continue again. So why did I still end up reporting to Kent? Well, probably because I was actually selected before the ruling came down -- before I used my one-time postponement option, my original jury summons, which I received in early March, was for April 20. Given the glacial pace of the justice system, I can only presume that my actual selection for a summons occurred right before the ruling came down. At least I can look forward to my next summons being for downtown Seattle again!)

My entire morning yesterday consisted of little more than simply waiting. Sometime around 9:00 we got an introduction from a judge working in the building, and some of the stuff he said was actually kind of interesting -- for instance, a reference to what Thomas Jefferson cited as the three most important reasons for independence: freedom of religion; freedom of speech; and trial by jury. I never realized those three had been grouped together as values of equal importance, but it makes sense. (Too bad so many people in this country have ridiculously skewed ideas of what all three of those things actually mean.)

This was followed by a video, although one of the two monitors within my range of vision was not working, so all I could see was the hanging TV set on the far end of the room. After that, I found it difficult to focus on my book because of how tired I was -- so much for making significant headway on my book club book. I passed a couple of minutes eating a banana nut muffin I got out of the vending machine (what I really wanted was the cheese streusel one but I couldn't figure out how to get the carousel to move), and otherwise I spent some time snoozing.

I wasn't the only one, either. It's true that serving on a jury provides some nice people-watching -- there was certainly a wide cross-section of humanity in that room. (Later in the afternoon I saw a guy with long, stringy hair and a beard, wearing camouflage pants and what appeared to be a pink wife-beater.) Some people read books; others appeared to be studying; several took advantage of free wifi and worked on their laptops -- something I was glad was not an option for me.

I was jerked out of my snooze when the lady started speaking into the microphone at the podium again, and she said we were going to be given juror numbers and then released for lunch. She said there was a jury pool that was rather large, and then proceeded to hand out numbers 80 through 129 -- 50 of us, including me; I was #94. Once we were all given a number, we were released for lunch. That happened at about 11:45, and we were not expected back until 1:30.

I did end up managing to hook up with Gabe, who I found out was at South Center Mall -- considering the purchase of an iPhone (which he did not end up doing just yet). It was kind of amazing that we got a hold of each other, as the whole reason he was at the store contemplating a new phone was that he apparently went swimming in his lake with his phone in his pocket. After some time drying it out, though, although the service was spotty, it was actually working again.

His primary concern at this point, actually, was Dante, and his necessary nap. He wanted Dante to get a nap in so he wouldn't be crabby the rest of the day. Whaddayaknow: Gabe is baby-whipped!

Gabe was unsure of when he'd be done at the mall, and even not entirely sure that he'd make it to meet me, so I took his suggestion of just taking myself to eat somewhere over at the Kent Station strip mall area right across the street. I found a place that had a sandwich on the menu that sounded tasty, so I went ahead and sat there, telling the hostess it was going to be either just me or two, I wasn't sure yet. My meal was prepared and delivered to me in an astoundingly short amount of time after I ordered it -- I hadn't even touched my sandwich yet when Gabe called and asked if I'd get my meal boxed to go and just ride around with him in his car. Dante had fallen asleep and he didn't want to wake him up.

I found out later that it was Stephanie who suggested he do this, and Gabe didn't think I'd be willing. I later had to tell him I'm far more laid back now than he seems to give me credit for -- he has too many memories of past years spent with me being easily pissed off by inconveniences like this. Even though Gabe admitted, "I would be irritated" (I'll make a note of that for future reference!), it really didn't bother me all that much.

The one minor annoying thing was that I had to eat my sandwich, which was not easily done in a non-messy way, while in his moving vehicle. But, I did it, and you know what? I lived through it!

He found a park to park at right before I finished. Then he was constantly wary of any noise that might wake up Dante -- especially the sound of a distant train, as apparently Dante loves trains. It all apparently became too much for him, and he started the car and moved along again.

Then Dante woke up, apparently a little taken aback by having only his papa in the car when he fell asleep and then me in the car when he woke up. Moving beyond the vain hope that he'd fall back asleep again, we ended up going back to Kent Station again, where we went to another restaurant, where I watched Gabe and Dante have lunch. I got a nice consolation prize, though -- Gabe bought me a raspberry lemonade.

-- MDXLIII --



-- MDXLIII --

While we were still in the car, Gabe brought up Michael Jackson -- and my first thought was, Oh, yay. When he said, "I want to talk about Michael Jackson," I said, "I'm not sure that's necessary." After all, as much tendency as I have to dismiss a lot regarding Michael Jackson, I really don't have any of the outright and acute contempt Gabe has for him. Gabe, like many people, thinks of Michael Jackson as little more than over-privileged child molester. I leave room for the fact that it's actually a lot more complicated than that.

But then Gabe played a portion of a podcast on his iTouch that was actually kind of interesting. A listener had called into the show to comment on the bizarre nature of people in this country -- around the world, even -- assigning a relationship between themselves and Michael Jackson's music that never actually existed before his death. The theory presented was that these are people who want to be able to take part in this unarguably momentous cultural event, and with no other option, they fabricate a personal history with the man -- and a man who, incidentally, those very same people were just as likely to have derided him for his bizarre behavior in not just the days, but the decades before his death.

Now. I see two parallel threads to this conversation, but only one of them do I personally see as particularly strange or fucked up. That would be the fabrication of a relationship to a star when no such relationship existed. This made me think of my own post about Michael Jackson's death -- in which I detailed my own relationship to his music. But I believe I was pretty realistic and objective about it: First of all, I actually did have a history of relationship to his music, having owned all his albums since the early nineties. I also very openly wrote about how I tended to feel about the man's music versus the man himself in his later years, a time when I still feel he was undone by his own ego more than anything.

But the post-mortem focus on his positive achievements, at the expense of any real focus on his steadily expanding freakishness, makes total sense to me. Far more than it does to Gabe, in any case -- Gabe spoke at length about how people talk about Michael Jackson as a "hero" even though only a week ago they would have been among the millions to speak about him with revulsion, contempt, or both.

But I have a counter-argument to this. I think that part of it makes sense, because a person's death automatically changes the context of any conversation about him. When a person is alive, the focus is understandably on the state of their life at that moment. But when a person dies, you automatically think about their life as a whole. It's a perfectly natural shift, and we all do it. Anyone who's been to any funeral or memorial service can attest to that.

And when it comes to Michael Jackson's entire life, the honest truth is that the barriers her broke -- the mainstreaming of R&B into rock and pop music; bringing so-called "black music" to a previously very racist MTV; the complete alteration of the entire music industry with just one record, Thriller -- have had a far wider-reaching and longer-lasting impact the world over than any of his bizarre and freakish behaviors have. His career and his behaviors have been inextricably intertwined, true -- but only in the execution, not in the impact. Like it or not, Michael Jackson actually did a lot of good in the world. And now that he's dead and cannot continue with the bad he did (however intentional or unintentional you might believe it to have been), I see nothing wrong with recognizing the good. The bad things do not negate the good ones.

This isn't just the case of an infamous, evil person who died. It's the case of a person who did infamous things, who was largely misunderstood, and yes, largely (and inexcusably) enabled to do those infamous things, who also did some great things -- most notably, made some almost universally beloved music. The man had a staggering amount of talent, and the concept of separating the artist from the art is certainly not a new one. I'm finding that I have the ability to do just that, especially now that he's dead.

(Incidentally, I think this is perhaps the best example I've found so far of a truly objective examination of both the man and his art.)

There's only one contradiction of Michael Jackson's that I can't seem to find a way to wrap my head around, and that's his practice of playing with himself onstage. Crotch-grabbing as a dance move is certainly exclusive to Michael Jackson (Madonna's "Express Yourself" video notwithstanding; I think that was more of a statement, however misguided, than it was a dance move), and it really doesn't make sense in the context of his characterization as an overgrown man-child. His pelvic thrusts right into the palm of his hand are an indicator of truly overt sexuality, and it does not at all mesh with the idea of him having the heart of an innocent child. I have a really hard time seeing the two as compatible.

That said, I still think he was totally out of touch with reality, and perhaps thought of himself as having the heart and mind of a child -- there's no question in my mind that the man was totally fucked in the head. But the sexuality of his crotch-grabbing notwithstanding, I still don't think of him specifically as a pedophile. I don't believe he literally sought out children as sexual prey. I think he did stupid shit with children without realizing -- or, perhaps, admitting to himself -- that it was inappropriate and wrong. In any event, I don't think his thought process was of this world. I think he lived on Planet Michael Jackson.

Anyway, my conversation about it with Gabe didn't last a particularly long period of time, and I was relieved that the context of it wasn't just in the sense of scoffing at a so-called child molester. Gabe's point, at least yesterday, actually had a lot more to do with the strange way in which people are reacting to his death.

So then, even though the Regional Justice Center was literally across the street, Gabe gave me a ride back. It was after I sat down that I had to be reminded to pick up my number -- it was a laminated sheet of paper with the number 94 on it. And soon after that, all of us numbered 80 through 129 were told to gather in the atrium area up on the third floor.

The bailiff had us all call out "here" in number order -- the one person who called out "present!" getting him to smile -- and then we were ushered into the court room.

I have spent so little time in actual court rooms (which I suppose is a good thing, all things considered!), I found this part to be the most interesting. Everyone already in the room was standing: the judge; the prosecution (the state); the defense attorney; the defendant; and two of his court-certified Russian interpreters (the defendant had on a pair of headphones).

I was immediately curious as to what crime this Russian man was accused of committing, but of course even if I ever found out I wouldn't have been able to share that until after the trial was over. In any case, the first order of business was to have us all raise our right hands and swear that we will answer questions truthfully. Curiously, actually uttering the words "I do" seemed to make a real difference -- I wouldn't have lied, but taking an oath like that, at least when you're an honest person, really makes you take it more seriously.

My primary concern was the expected length of the trial, and whether or not the judge would consider things like Becca's visit the weekend of July 18 or the family reunion the following weekend legitimate reasons for not participating. To my relief, the judge himself cited "planned vacations" as a legitimate excuse when he asked the first question:

"We don't expect this trial to last any later than July 24," was how he started. A murmur spread through almost all fifty of us, which pretty much amounted to, Oh, shit. The judge asked all of us who felt that we would be unable to serve for such a period of time to raise our numbers.

Almost the entire room did. He counted off the numbers he saw, writing them down, having us lower our numbers as soon as it was called. He finished and then said, "That leaves . . . five of you."

He asked both the prosecution (a very pretty young blonde woman who would not have looked out of place on a prime time court drama) and the defense if they had any objections to excusing those of us claiming hardship. Neither of them did, so, without further question, all 45 of us were excused.

The bailiff collected our numbers, and told us that we needed to check-out downstairs, but he was pretty sure we were done. Really?

Yep: I checked out at the window on the second floor, and the woman said, "Thank you, your service is complete." It was about 2:15 in the afternoon.

I had mixed feelings about this. I was actually kind of disappointed not to be chosen for a jury. The one I served on in 2000 lasted something like four days, which would have been ideal and easily doable for me now. But three weeks, and possibly longer? That I just couldn't do without it causing significant difficulty for me. I found myself wondering what the hell kind of boring lives the five people who stayed behind must lead!

I was most surprised to be excused because the initial paperwork said that I'd be excused if I were not chosen for a jury after two days. This was only one day. But, as Russ said today, "It probably has to do with how many cases they have going on." I emailed Stephanie, Elin and Kibby at work to let them know I'd be back today, and both Stephanie and Elin were truly elated. I think they were really worried I'd be gone for an uncomfortably extended period of time.

I did overhear a woman tell someone in front of me in the check-out line, "If you get called again in the next twelve months, give us a call." It sounds like you're not supposed to be called more than once in a given year. The judge in the morning had mentioned that this was a random process, explaining why some people complain of having been called four times in the past five years, while others have come to him saying, "I've been waiting forty years for this!"

In any event, I actually hope I get called again sometime. This is actually my third summons; the first was in 2000, but the second was in 2001 -- only a year later. But at the time of the second, I was working at the Seattle Gay Standard, which employed only five truly indispensable people, and as much as I would have liked to do it, it just wasn't possible. I had Mike write the necessary letter from my employer and I was excused. It took another eight years for me to be summoned again.

So, I took the bus home -- snoozing yet again (and a suggestion to Metro: it's helpful to have all the bus numbers actually printed on the bus stops they service) -- and I was back in the condo by around 4:00 or so, something like that.

-- MDXLIII --

I guess the highlight of my evening, after that, was watching our latest Netflix title with Shobhit: the 1961 animated version of One Hundred and One Dalmatians. It's an okay movie, but I don't think it's among Disney's best. I saw that for the first time in the theatre in the early nineties, when Dad took me to it, saying it was always one of his favorites. I can't imagine why it was. The story is as simple as simple gets, and many of the scenes stretch out far longer than necessary -- I figure the book on which it was based, being a children's book, was very short. We'll be getting The Sword in the Stone soon, though, and I'm looking forward to that; I always liked that one a lot. (It'll also be a key one for Shobhit to see before going to Disneyland, given there's an actual sword in the stone at the park, which people are encourage to try removing. Apparently at certain times of the day it can actually be done, but it typically only happens with child volunteers.)

Anyway, I got to bed by around 10:30, and last night I got a wonderfully solid seven hours of sleep. I'm not sleepy at all today, which is nice.

Finally, and in completely unrelated news, I am elated to hear that India's High Court, after 148 years, has finally struck down the law criminalizing gay sex in India. This is a huge, huge deal for the queer community in that country, and it makes me very happy indeed.

-- MDXLIII --


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July 1, 2009

Tags: the daily shobhit