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11/02/98 - I saw Riverdance last night... impressive but somewhat silly at the same time. It's easier for me to pick on this show than it is for me to praise it but I did like it much more than I hated it. Parts were boring... pretty much any part where singers were the only people on stage could have been cut. Any part including dancers was awesome even though the guys in puffy shirts and tight pants stuck their butts out WAY to far. The juxtaposition of Irish, pretty boy dancers and any other kind of dancer (notably flamenco and US street dancers) was comical... the scene starts with an interesting dance and out come three Irish guys with poofy shirts, tight pants, extended butts, hands by their sides (or even better akimbo) all moving in sync like the Blue Angels and you can't help but see the sissy humor even though their feet are going mach 1 and the rhythm is flawless. Would I recommend this show? Yes... even to my beer drinking, football watching friends. Was it better than Stomp? Sorry, no it wasn't. Was it better than the Demon Drummers of Someplace-in-Japan? No, but it kicked Cats butt. How can you say that without having even seen Cats? I've heard the music. Did I mention a full band (complete with a Strat playing guitar boy, awesome drummer and this guy playing something like a bagpipe but not quite a bagpipe) was on stage, too? They rocked. Riverdance gets both Lee Parker's thumbs up. Oops, ended a sentence in a preposition.
11/03/98 - While the weekend ended in Riverdance the bulk was spent in Hagersburg, MD with my extended family. My Uncle, Aunt and cousins moved to Hagersville in 1985 and the family gathers there about once a year. This year Kara made her debut and Timothy made his sophomore appearance (Timothy being my sister's hubby to be). So we got there and ate and drank and talked then went to a Halloween parade in which my cousin Jill played flute. Jill was one of the Mighty, Mighty Smithsburg Leopards who recently made a story in the Hagerschester Herald Mail which also got press on this page... but I digress. The parade was lengthy and the temperature was cold... at least it felt like it to those of us still accustomed to the summerlike stuff back on this side of the mountains. After Jill came by Jim, Kara and I went to grab her and beat a hasty escape. Well we followed the parade for miles along streets lined with a full 50% of east coast people. Finally we yanked Jill and her friend Jessica from the fray and took off down a back street until we hit the famous Hagersboro Moat, a mile wide, mile deep stonewalled trench containing the Famous Smithsburg Water Leopards (after which Jill's highschool is named). We managed the distract the leopards long enough to swing across the moat on loose vines by heaving neighborhood cows into the moat to our left. Well, we returned to the car and drove back to the homstead, still cold, but guided by the light of Saturn... you saw it, right? It was right to the moon's bottom right.
11/04/98 - Eric, Kara's brother, gets married on saturday. My tight suits, Kara, her clothes and I all head for Alabamer this evening. Vacation of sorts. I voted yesterday. That makes (1988 to 1998 minus 1995, in which I forgot to vote... oops) 10 votes in my life time, not bad. I've had over 90% participation. Not bad for a disenfranchized Gen Xer, eh? Well, I had a nice conversation regarding Bernuli's principle and how it related to air travel. This on a day I fly. I wrote a song for Kara a while back. All I can recall now are the first couple lines... it's about flying. I see windows. I see light. I see outside and I feel myself take flight. You are how I fly. Somewhat dopey, I know, but it goes well with the guitar part. Did I mention my suits are slightly less tight than they were last week. Although I busted my shins running I believe it reversed the evil expanding girth. I'm looking forward to a winter's activity and a thin spring. Perhaps I'm wrong regarding my easy reverse but it is nice to feel like a few day's hard work can help. I shan't run today but my feet will plod along in the deep south tomorrow. "Damn the torpedos; Full speed ahead" cried Farragut in Mobile bay. I shall cried "Damn the cheese pizza and beer; Full speed ahead" for as long as I can. Be back monday.
11/10/98 - Kara's father's birthday. Happy Birthday, Walter. My plane back from the wedding was downsized so Kara and I stayed an extra night. That was 4 nights in Fairhope, AL and 1 in Pensacola, FL. Eric's family-in-law is awesome. They're kind of assembled like a sitcom. There's the patriarch: Coach. Yes, he goes by Coach because he played and managed pro baseball from 1940ish through 1970ish then he moved to South Alabama U where he built one of the best programs in the country. Better men than Coach are few. The matriarch, Mombugs, is the kindest, sweetest, southern belle you could hope to meet who always has a pleasant story and an avenue for anyone to join the conversation. People say she's closing on 80 but you'd guess low 60s. Then there is the first generation of kids. Eric married Marianne, the youngest; Marianne calls me her "outlaw" because, technically, we won't be inlaws. There's Kaye the volleyball mother and Beverly the generous hostess and Mike the brother I didn't meet. The grand kids include Kyle the athlete, Simon the southern gent, Morgan the volleyball daughter, Rachel the earline pilot's friend and Amy the young. I can't forget Arthur the iconoclastic farmer or Jim the quiet sportsman mender or Mary Nell who Kara will see in Texas before the year ends. Join us next time for champagne in the Inn's courtyard following a wedding with white lights, white flowers and harp music under the stars.
11/11/98 - 13 years from now the date will be 111111. In binary that's 63. I'll be 41. Confused? I had a dream the chapel in which Kara and I are marrying burned down. Freud might say I'm afraid something will happen. I say I'll just get ashes on my tux because I'm getting married in that chapel. Kara says maybe we can just have the service by Traveller's grave. She has a thing for animals. I think she'd be cold outside in late March. Wow! 15 years ago I was a 13 year old middle schooler and my parents were 101000 (in binary). This year, in binary, is 11111001110. The Civil War started in 11101000101 and ended in 11101001001. 2000, while scary to computer folks is just a dull string of bits 11111010000; it's sort of a sandwich: The top bread is four 1s the meat is 101 and the bottom bread is four 0s. Kelley just brought me a sausage biscuit she bought with her University ID. We were lab rats. Said the student accounts office "Give us money; we'll put it on your card so you won't have to carry cash. It just may work." "Ok," says we. I'll use my card at lunch. Ray and Kelley have already proved it works. So I had 1 biscuit. That's binary. Crazy, that's how it goes.
11/12/98 - In 15 years it will be 11/12/13. I believe those were my middle school years. When I was 13 I started running. I ran more between the ages of 14 and 21 then I will likely run during other ages. I did 100 miles a week sometimes. No foolin'. Now I'm just fat, slow and lazy. And I have a phone message. Hey! Speaking of 11, 12 & 13, my message informs me today, 11/12, the law school is hosting the 13th annual something symposium. Coincidental? I think not. You guys keep your eyes open for more occurences. In the news this morning (I was listening to NPR while reading the paper... news double dose) it sounds like me may sucker punch Iraq. I guess it's not a sucker punch when you say it's coming. Well, we'll send more stuff over then fire some rockets, kill some people and come home. My question is: what line are we walking? It's obvious, from the news reports, this guy is going to harass until we kick his butt (a rhyming word was my first choice). I start thinking why is the world not supporting us? and I get 2 answers: A) they're stupid or B) our news reports are over blown. We're not the world's moral titan nor are we a police force. I guess the government thinks the best position we can take is that of wolf in sheep's clothing pretending to be good and concerned seeing how far we can push our policies until someone calls us on it. Well, we have a big force in the Persian Gulf and the worst we've heard is "Oh, I don't really think you guys should be playing so rough just yet." Here we go again. Mutton for dinner tonight?
11/13/98 - Friday the 13th. The only bad thing that's happened to me so far is I ate some donuts holes... and I'm already fat. I got permission from Kelley to start running at lunch (Kelley's my boss). I'll bring soup, a potato and my running gear and run for 30 minutes then eat and nobody will notice anything until my clothes get baggy... Oh Boy! But my clothes have always been baggy. I like baggy stuff which is probably why I expanded so much before noticing. Whoa! It's after 10am and this still isn't posted. I need to get some work done but I will close with a moral thought. Improve something today. In doing so you may imnprove yourself. Stop thinking about your expanding gut as a bad thing but as a fortunate thing... you have an easy life where problems are for abundance not lack. Whoa, sorry. I'm getting a little too kindly for a friday. Time to close the eyes.
11/16/98 - My sleep schedule is all messed up. The band played both nights this weekend. I didn't get to bed until 3am... I slept until 10:30 or 11. Ok, but saturday I scrubbed (with Will and Bubba) 2 cases of dirty beer bottles. We actually made beer... well, started the batch. Several mishaps occurred so we'll see how the final product tastes. The plan is to try again (start the second batch) as soon as the first batch is clear of the fermenter. Scott says his first batch was ok; his second batch was awesome and his third batch was awful because he got too cocky. I'm guessing our first batch will be less than good but the second batch should kick butt (as we certainly caught all the snags this time). We'll try not to get cocky. Yesterday Kara and I met with the minister marrying us. Our task was an inventory... I call it a test. We had 165 questions about our relationship which we answered separately then the answers are compared and we'll discuss the findings... after a computer groups and statistically manipulates the data and compares our answers to psychological cross sections and samples of our DNA. Well, I thinking we're a lucky couple. We'll see in a few weeks what the computer thinks (and we know this is a farce because computers don't yet think but only respond to the programmatic instructions of folks like me... who sometimes don't think). Which is why things fall in the beer... or maybe I was just tired.
11/17/98 - Well, in my readings I've developed a theory (ok, I was given a theory) that the Southern Confederacy almosts eeked a victory 130 or so years ago. Had the southern mentality accepted a defensive instead of an offensive strategy (which was completely contrary to its nature) the CSA could have won by exhausting its opponent. Performing my own extrapolation I've determined it's a darned good thing we lost. I'm not saying Reconstruction was handled properly, but let's look at a few hypothetical points. The south was agricultural. The south maintained some down right evil human opinions. Southern justice was more popular opinion than legalistic (I have no idea what that means but what I'm trying to say is: You could shoot someone and, if popular opinion said the shot had it coming to them, you might get off like O.J.). Ok, look what the USA is today. We are a mostly post industrial, mostly equal, mostly legal country. I doubt the 50 states could have become what we are without substancial participation from all parties; I know the southern 10 or so couldn't have come close. The CSA would be just another Central American country and the USA would be another Canada (least offense possible to Central America or Canada). Elaborate I shall not as I only write a paragraph each morning so you'll have to add your own supporting details.
11/18/98 - A long time ago in a childhood far, far away I gave up the illusion I am the world's biggest Star Wars fan. My nerdliness has certainly expanded its horizons but that's not the point. The point is the new Star Wars trailer has been released on the web and this Star Wars junkie wants to see it. The site isn't responding to my requests and I'm pissed. If I can'y grab stuff from the internet at 8:30 when am I supposed to grab stuff? The still pictures look awesome. The poster... ah, the movie poster is a thing of beauty. In the sand stands young Anakin Skywalker and the shadow he casts on the wall behind him is that of Darth Vader. Chilling. I look forward with great anticipation to the film's release. But the trailer is right there and I can't get it. How frustrating. How now brown cow. Oh, Cecy showed me how to do this: \077. Pretty cool, eh? A whole array of characters I can't use are now at my disposal. Oh, remember in Miracle on 42nd Street Santa was proven to be Santa because the mail was delivered to him. Well, I got a piece of mail addressed to: Lee Parker, Director of Administrative Services. I've been promoted!!! At least the Postal Service thinks so. Someone else should be getting movie trailers for me, now.
11/19/98 - Gettysburg address day. 135 years ago Abraham Lincoln followed a forgotten speaker's 2 hour address with one Lincoln thought was less than good. Boy was he wrong. His speech itself states Lincoln's belief his words would echo for a moment then fade. Maybe in the vast history before his time a few speakers have had words stick securely to the future. His will. Do you want to read them? I'd hoped to link the Library of Congress site, but it's not behaving now. Speaking of misbehavior, I still haven't gotten the Star Wars trailer. Oh, and I'm tired. Help Wanted played a sans Andy show that was fun and different but lacked the singing and bass genius one expects from Help Wanted... instead of sauve Andy there was tenative and timid me... we survived. People danced and Evan, Josh and Paul really helped our confidence and stage presence. Well, that's not a bad little entry when you consider all the places it takes you. I guess I should have told you where to get the Star Wars trailer but the site is so frustratingly busy it would be cruel to direct another person there.
11/20/98 - With strained calm I sit having just downloaded the new Star Wars trailer. Oh, boy do I look forward to this film. In fact, I think I'll watch the trailer again. The problem with these stupid trailer thingys is they only scratch the surface... teaser they call it and a teaser it is. It's like smelling pizza on an empty stomach. It's like waking up 5 minutes before your alarm goes off. Ok, enough said. Tonight Kara and I trek to Hampton, VA for a Phish show. I like Phish because they're poppy yet intricate, dynamic and effervescent... plus kinda weird. Kara is from Vermont and so is Phish. The guys in Phish play in a band and so do I. Phish will be in Hampton tonight and so will Kara and I. See, lots in common. I bet Phish likes Star Wars. Too bad for Phish friday doesn't mean a break for them but then they might really enjoy what they do... I bet they do. Well, my calm is less strained now. I've seen the trailer a few times and can start to quote lines from it... it's like 1977 all over again. The best comment I've heard along those lines was that of a friend's friend (ID Unknown) who said "Oh great, now I have to get new sheets." Meaning, of course, the old Star Wars sheets are outdated. I wonder what happened to my pillow case.
11/23/98 - Shave day was saturday. I have 75% less hair. That on top is short and that on front is mostly gone. Kara says this is her favorite of my looks... ok. I look thinner but my face is a touch puffier than it was last I saw skin about 6 months ago. Must exercise. I say and I say and I say yet I don't do. Must do or tux won't fit in 4 months when I need it to fit. I wish I were Scottish and could just wrap a kilt around me. You what I need?! I good excuse to wear a kilt. That would be fun. No one calls you a cross dresser when you wear a kilt. Heck, and if they do, you can kill 'em with you broad sword or haggis breath... actually, you can just use the haggis, I think. Never have tartan or skirts been more manly than on Scots... that rocks. Well, I lack highland hair at this point so the kilt won't look that authentic but I could always get a tamo' shanter and claim my locks are hidden underneath... or maybe I could say I cut my hair with the broad sword... that's pretty manly. I'd have to learn to sit with my legs crossed. Or maybe I'll just stand. It's not like Scots are known for their computer work. I'd need a new job... I'm already a musician... I'll just take up the bag pipes and maybe shepparding.
11/24/98 - I'm getting very good at over sleeping. Here's the method... get up at 6:30. Set the alarm for 45 minutes. Awaken at 7:15 long enough to believe you're setting the alarm for 15 minutes but actually just reset it for 45. Awaken at 8... stare at the clock... focus on the clock... the picture's meaning seeps into your brain... "sheet". In rapid order the body is cleaned and dressed, Emelie is fed medicated turkey and dried pellets, I'm fed Cheerios and ginger bread and then pushed out the door and driven to work all in about 30 minutes. Ok, it's 10am and I've had to work for the last hour or so and now it's time to rejournalize. Things that excite me: 4 days off to read and visit and do and explore and run and eat and drink and laugh and play and spend my time as I choose. Oh, have you ever noticed that the UK looks like a man doing a hand stand (Wales is the head)? New Zealand and Italy are a boot pair. Africa is a skull looking east with a horn in the forehead. Lastly South America is is a snooty butler (also looking east); his eyes are where the Amazon dumps and his chin is at Rio.
11/25/98 - I walked to work this morning. Picture this: from a quaint white brick house into the chilled morning sunlit air strides a mega-nerd. Mega nerd fashion consists of a kelly jacket, pond scum sweater and pants the blue I associate with Vicks Vapor Rub bottles from the 70s (they may be the same now but I haven't seen one in 20 years). The outfit is capped (bad word choice) by dirty running shoes combining all these colors but still managing to look massive in their whiteness. A beat up back pack accentuates the image as both straps pull tightly on the slightly large jacket giving the figure a restrained bloat look. Well, off through the suburbs towards his office wanders our nerd. He greets people at the bus stop. He greets a man at the $2.99 cleaner reading the paper while drinking gas station coffee. Ug... gas station coffee. I wonder how long that sat on a burner... at this hour probably not too long but I bet it was Maxwell House. Back to the walk already in narrative: In the park he greets a Border Collie. They shake. Down a leaf covered hill he sniffs and slides... no dirt on the trousers but quite a bit of fall smells... mmm, rotted leaves. Through the woods and onto campus. "Hi, Sam, Happy Thanksgiving say 'Hi' to Deborah for me, please". Into my parking lot as the pigeons scatter before me and a minivan and I'm sweaty but here. Tonight it's a walk home.
11/30/98 - Well, could wooden Will wheel the weakly woven wall to the well as well as we could would and will? Nonsense. This makes no sense to me either but that's not the point. The point is, well... there is no point. Perhaps a chant: A week away a week away a week away a week away a week away a week away... A weeeeeeee eeee eeeee eeee eeee um um away. Try that in traffic in a convertible during rush hour on a hot humid southern summer day. Let's c c see... what am I doing this weem? I shall be happy. I decided. Next time I'll let Kara choose the movie. I've picked 2 in a row I liked but during which she fell asleep. Jerry Falwell made the paper this morning for being slightly less fanatic a Christian than this other guy... name escapes me. Quote of the story goes something like this: You can't preach the Gospel without hatred... you got to have fire and brimstone. Falwell counters with: God loves everyone. If it's ok with you I'll smile for Jerry on this one. Work whispers wicked wishes. Can I comfortably comply?