Roadnotes: Check

Hepatitus A vaccination
Hepatitus B vaccination
Typhoid vaccination
Prescription traveler's diarrhea medicine
Ear infection
Antibiotic for ear infection
Affrin
Prescription cough medicine
One-quart clear zip-top plastic bag
Asprin
Tums
Flip-flops
Business cards
Gum
Camera
Camera battery charger
Cord for moving images off of camera
Laptop
Laptop adapter
Mouse
Persian rug mouse pad
Plug adapter (3-prong to 2-prong)
Web cam
Ear buds
Printed itinerary
Pajama bottoms
9 outfits treated with permethrin
Extra permethrin for the sweetheart
Insect repellent
Hand sanitizer
Puffs travel pack
Gift for the sweetheart
Northwestern Wine for the sweetheart's family
Seattle-made organic Fair Trade chocolate for the sweetheart's family
Shaving gel
Razor with some stupid name thought up by Gillette
Electric razor
Electric razor charger
Burt's Bees deoderant
Hair brush
Sonicare toothbrush
Floss
N95 respirators
Passport
My Name is Earl (Season 3)
Journal
Pens
Notepads
The Complete Stories of Saki
Exile and the Kingdom
KNOCK #11
McSweeney's #24
Lonely Planet Taiwan
Chinese PhraseFinder and Dictionary
Parka
Hat
Sunblock

Pharmacist Tells Me: "Oh wow, that porn looks good!"

I was picking up the latest vaccinations for an impending trip to Taiwan and the pharmacist shouts, "Oh wow, that porn looks good!"

I thought: ?

I looked at my grocery basket, and saw the corn sitting on top. So apparently I just have bad ears.

There is a book in every one of you...

There is at least one book in every one of you.

Take Giovanni Diviacchi, for instance, a standup comic out of D.C....

Like all standup comics, Giovanni had some jokes about lawyers. However, one night "some attorney friends...were complaining about the lawyer jokes in my act," Diviacchi says, "so we decided to turn the tables and write a joke book for lawyers."

And that's just what he did. Now, his book is probably the best possible kitschy gift you can give to a lawyer friend or attorney relative.

Also, the book (How Many Clients Does it Take to Change a Light Bulb?) was a Stephen T. Colbert Award for the Literary Excellence...nominee. I know, because it's got a little sticker-stamp on my copy of the book that says so.

And just because it's better to let the work speak for itself, here's some text from between the pages:

A client asked his long-time family lawyer to come to his deathbed with a Bible.

"Would you like me to read to you?" asked the lawyer of his client.

The client shook his head weakly and said, "No, I want you to find the loopholes."

There you have it. If you would just get off of the couch, you, too, could write a book that gets a stamp about a nomination for an award that's pretty much made up, from a certain point of view. Now get moving! The book isn't going to write itself unless you're rich!

Roadnotes: Portland

I take the train to Portland and quickly realize that everyone here is serving Stumptown coffee. You go to the coffee shop, they're serving Stumptown coffee. You go to the breakfast place, they serve Stumptown coffee. You go to the bar, they serve Stumptown coffee. You go to the post office, they serve Stumptown coffee. You go to the bathroom, they serve Stumptown coffee. I swear.

Fortunately for me, I love Stumptown coffee.

We meet up with Spilt, F.R.A.N.I., Armatronix, and A at the Sapphire Hotel. We talk about blogging and how it isn't what it used to be.

Spilt mentions that it's weird to see everyone's real name on FaceBook. Everyone agrees.

The next day I'm at a restaurant and I am told I can help myself to a "bev", so yes, there are people who talk like that.

Saturday, I take in the Velveteria with family. Some of us are more interested in the black light room than the art of the paintings.

Sunday is BrickFest. A lot of hype, but all in all, about the same thing or less than the NW BrickCon. But don't take that to mean it didn't please me.

And then, I get "treated" to Madagascar II on the train back to Seattle. Woo.

Guess What I was Googling: A Game!

The Challenge: Guess what I typed into a Google Image Search to find the following image.

Hint: Four words.

Clue: I did not find what I wanted.

Before You Scoff...

When you scoff at all the ridiculous people who don't know any better, it appears to them as though you're one of those ridiculous people who don't know any better, and to top things off, you're scoffing.

A Conversation I Almost Had

Aaron Dietz: Hi, this is Aaron Dietz, returning your call about [such-and-such].

Nigh-Conversator: Hi. Thanks for calling me back.

AD: No problem. I wanted to [such-and-such], so, is this a good time to talk?

NC: I'm actually on the other line, sorry. Can I call you back?

AD: Sure. I'm actually relieved, because I didn't really have the time to talk, either. You see, I'm on another line, too.

NC: Why would you call someone else if you were already on another line and couldn't talk?

AD: Probably for the same reason you picked up my call while you were on another line and couldn't talk.

NC: Pavlovian instinct?

AD: [Drools]

NC: Well, I'm glad we had this talk.

AD: Yes. We've cleared up a few things. 'Gotten some things figured out.

NC: [Drools]

AD: [Drools]

[Click]

OMG, 25 OMG Things About, Zomg, Me.

No, there aren't 25 things about me here. And I tag all of you in spirit because you're all in this, whether you want to be or not.

Equal rights.

Economic crisis.





* Title of this blog stolen with permission from Wise Majestic Sharna of the Winds.

Yes, Prop 8 is Discrimination

Some people are convinced that Proposition 8 (the California measure that limits marriage to one man and one woman) doesn't take away any rights from the LGBT community.

They claim that through things like a strong will, power of attorney, and more, an LGBT couple can have the same rights as a straight, married couple.

Let's take a look at how equal these scenarios are.



Situation One: A Man and Woman Want to Marry

Man: "Hi, woman. Let's marry."

Woman: "Okay. Let's go to the court house and get that done right now."

Man: "One simple document. How nice!"

Woman: "Easy peasy! We'll have time for coffee and a doughnut afterward!"



Situation Two: An LGBT Couple Wants to Marry

Partner 1: "Hi partner. Let's marry."

Partner 2: "Actually, that's illegal, but we can have all the same rights as a married couple."

Partner 1: "Oh, goodie. I'll call the accountant and find out how we can avoid the estate tax should one of us, heaven forbid, pass away before the other."

Partner 2: "Good thinking. I'd better call the attorney and find out how I can be allowed to visit you if you're ever in the hospital."

Partner 1: "Well, hey! That's not going to take much time at all! And after that, there are only one thousand one hundred thirty six more federal rights we need to get back in order for us to have the same rights as a married couple!"

Partner 2: "That's the spirit! At this pace, we'll be done setting this all up in about a decade--that is, if I don't have to take a second job to pay all the attorney costs and filing fees!"

Partner 1: "I suppose that will slow us down if you're working two jobs, but it's worth it, just to get the rights that we're not being denied!"



It's true. There are 1138 federal rights that LGBT couples do not have when they are denied marriage. Saying that LGBT couples can simply regain those rights by filling out paperwork, consulting expensive professionals, and paying processing fees for acquiring those rights is equivalent to giving all people the right to vote, but forcing some of those people to fill out special forms.

Thus, Prop 8 is discrimination.

And don't get me started on the psychological effects of facing people that don't recognize your marriage just because they have a specific interpretation of a book.

Roadnotes: Iowa

The following is based on events that took place a little while ago now; I can't even remember when.

We get off the plane.

The Sweetheart's all, "Look at the roads!"

I'm all, "Yeah. They know how to remove snow, here."

I beam with Iowa pride.

Xmas passes.

We box up stuff to ship because we didn't bring huge empty suitcases.

We go home, spoiled.

In a Cheesy Legal Thriller Novel, I am an NSA Goon

It's true. In the novel Case of Lies, by the author team up that calls themselves Perri O'Shaugnessy, I am an NSA goon. See for yourself:



Okay, the linebacker body type was a little off, but they got the silent act down. And I do like a good water.



Okay, sometimes it might look like I'm regarding people as Nabokov might have regarded a specimen butterfly before spoking it, but I'm not into decorative insect corpses, I swear. I try to respect the right of living things to die without being on display. Once again, though, they got the silent act down.



That does sound like something I'd say if I were NSA. But I'd probably follow this up with a discussion of semantics involving the word "nation".



I'll have to try the tie-yanking thing, though I'm not sure exactly what an angry tie yank means, or how it affects a conversation. Is that like saying, "Leave me alone already"? Or is it a "I'm getting angry. Hulk. Hulk. HULK!" kind of thing?



I used to chew on my fingernails when I was young, but I've given up the habit. In this novel, though, I'm not sure if this is a sign of me being frightened or bored. Or perhaps the Dietz character had to be mentioned because he wasn't in the previous five pages and people might wonder what he was doing for that entire five page conversation.

The suspense is killing me, but this is the last we hear of Aaron Dietz, the NSA agent, in this book. Maybe he just evaporates into thin air, as I hope to do when I'm ready to leave this world.

Cheesy Legal Thriller Question: If you were in a cheesy legal thriller novel, what would your character be like?

When Does a Problem Become a Crisis?

Having recently been on a bus with someone who claimed that Hurricane Katrina wasn't as messed up as the recent snow inundation of Seattle, I pondered the criteria required for a problem to become a crisis.

The problem: Several repeated snowfalls of 4 to 6 inches in a city with virtually no ability to remove snow.

The side effects: Reduced business viability in the form of reduced hours, reduced patronage, and the sheer impossibility of getting anything done when you can't go anywhere.

So, Seattle had some snow. Usually, the snow melts quickly. This time, it didn't, and more snow happened. Thus: a problem.

That being said and accepted, how much snow would it take for someone in Seattle to call in the National Guard? It would be unthinkable to call on the National Guard to get rid of a six inch snowfall.

But what if that same amount of snow fell ten times over ten days? It's like unpacking a suitcase: you take out one thing at a time and don't see any difference, until suddenly: there's the bottom of the thing, peeking out between the jeans and dirty underwear.

This only partially explains how Hurrican Katrina became a severely mismanaged crisis (especially since there was data that indicated a looming crisis). Nevertheless, in many cases, a crisis happens gradually, then suddenly*. You see the gradual changes, but it's hard to see each small problem as part of a collective crisis until it's suddenly too late.

Usually, there is no algorithm for detecting a crisis because a crisis is either easy to detect (example: a 200 foot wall of water about to hit your city) or the crisis is produced by cumulative effects (like moderate snowfalls that happen repeatedly for many days).

I'm not saying Seattle entered the crisis stage a couple weeks ago. I'm just pointing out that it could have, without anyone noticing, if there had been just a little more snow...and a little more...and a little more after that.



* Thanks to Hemingway, or whoever first used that phrase.

Roadnotes: Seattle to Iowa

The following takes place on December 24th, a time when all of Seattle had been bathed in snow for many agonizing, city-shut-down-ing days.

We decide to take a bus that will take us to another bus that will take us to the airport.

We could drive, but that would be near-suicide on some streets. We could catch a cab, but all the cabs were in high demand and weren't taking calls from dispatch--we'd have to be lucky enough to catch one that was willing to go to the airport.

We could have called a shuttle, but I doubted that the shuttle would be able to navigate the fresh snow on the side streets.

So we got on a bus that was going to take us to another bus that was going to take us to the airport.

A man got on the bus after us, sat down nearby, then said, "Man, I been through Hurricane Katrina and it wasn't this messed up."

I immediately wrote that down. 30 minutes later we started waiting the 50 minutes it would take to wait for the next bus that would take 50 minutes to get to the airport. But we made our flight. Oh yes, we made our flight.

Seattle's Snow Removal Plan (and a tip on cool virtual stuff for kids)

Seattle's snow removal plan:

Wait until it goes away.

And I bet you it's going to work, eventually.



And if you know kids that need something to do over winter break, consider a virtual camp course. I'm only plugging them because they really are very cool, don't involve anyone going out in the cold, and the kid will create something awesome, no matter which you choose to sign up for. (But my suggestion and favorite is the Game Design course.)

Roadnotes: Tacoma / Portland

So, I went to Tacoma.

I had room service and chose the only non-vegetarian item on the menu: a fruit bowl that comes on a plate. The majority of the fruit had gone bad, so my girlfriend complained. They didn't charge us for it.

It was still a lot of trouble for a free banana, but still. I'd recommend Hotel Murano now, since everything else was great (at least, I'd recommend it if you have the means - our stay was on another's dime).

The glass museum had some stuff by Chihuly. Chihuly's all right, if you're in the mood for Dr. Seuss-inspired glass imagery. Except nothing rhymed, so it wasn't as cool as I really wanted it to be.



The next weekend, I went to Portland.

It was a family trip. Thanksgiving. A ton of mashed potatoes. And board games / card games. I played Sequence. It was actually fun.

But sadly, once again, I wasn't capable of putting together some kind of Portlandian blog-meet.

However, I was able to take this photo:



Come on, Amtrak. Four garbage bins in a row without a recycling bin? Yikes. Changing something on an Amtrak train must involve more paperwork than a Vatican-recognized miracle.

And Shawn / Sean (I'm not sure what spelling you use) - do email us, okay? I didn't get your information because I was confident you would send us a message when you got the chance. It was excellent meeting you on the train.

Luke and Darth: Episode VII

The Other Side Will Never Die

We can't shut the opposition out or pretend the opposition doesn't exist. We have to live with them, and help them understand how to live with us.



FREE SHOW! If you're in Seattle Friday night, I'll be in a 3-piece suit, reading at the KNOCK Magazine release party. 7pm. Jewel Box Theater inside The Rendezvous. (I'm also opening for Jonathan Evison on December 11 - that one's free, too, and even includes free beer and an Appalachian wedding buffet.)

The Opposition Will Reappear

Let's watch out for new looks glossing over the same old approach. Change is not a decoration.

Okay, It's Time to Play the Cynic

Okay. Obama is the president-elect. Now it's time to play the cynic and push for what we want. Nothing will change without hard work at the grassroots level.

Welcome to Sweet Misery

So, this is what it feels like to have a leader you care about. It's wonderful, inspiring, and frightening all at the same time.