Get the Hell off My Lawn

I missed it, but 111 million Americans didn’t, Chrysler’s 2012 Super Bowl commercial, “Halftime in America”. Staring Clint Eastwood, with enough vocal fry in his voice to outfit the entire McDonald’s hamburger chain, he growl’s out this two-minute ad’s narration. He gives America a pep talk, like the two other pep talks that were occurring simultaneously in opposing locker-rooms. He recounts how our country was first knocked down, and then it picked itself up and dusted itself off again.

This country can’t be knocked down with one punch. We get right back up again and when we do, the world’s going to hear the roar of our engines. Yeah. It’s halftime, America. And our second half is about to begin.

This year’s ad comes on the heels of last year’s Super Bowl ad, starring Detroit’s own Eminem and introducing the tag line “Imported from Detroit.” That ad was content to wrap itself in the Michigan flag, this ad has national aspirations. The ad was not overtly political, nor partisan. No politician or party is explicitly mentioned, but it wasn’t just a car commercial. Both David Axelrod and Karl Rove quickly acknowledged this fact. Axelrod tweeted, “Powerful spot”. While, Rove said, “I was frankly offended by it,” and that Chrysler executives “feel they need to do something to repay their political patrons.”

In Las Vegas, on Super Bowl Sunday morning, Chrysler’s CEO, Sergio Marchionne, was addressing the Chrysler dealers at the annual meeting of the National Automobile Dealers Association. He unveiled the ad there, for the first time. At its conclusion there was a pregnant pause, followed by a thunderous standing ovation. “Nothing more needs to be said”, concluded Marchionne, who then overcome by emotion left the stage. By happenstance, former President George W. Bush was also at this meeting. “I’d do it again,” Mr. Bush said, “I didn’t want there to be 21 percent unemployment.” The $80 billion dollars lent to the auto industry came from both Bush and President Obama. A fact that Rove has somehow forgotten.

What about Mr. Eastwood though? He is a self-professed libertarian, who has only voted Republican and can’t recall ever voting for a Democrat. He has publicly spoken against the auto industry bailout in the past. Was this ad just a paycheck for him or did he, as he and his pressman have stated, not view this advertisement as anything political? Eastwood is a fine actor. He has demonstrated this many times. This statement, coming from a spokesman, from the opposite side of the aisle, only serve to give his words more gravitas. While political troupes run through and through this commercial, their origin here gives them a freshness that won’t be surpassed before Election Day.

In People Magazine, Obama recently quoted Mario Cuomo, “campaigning is poetry, and governing is prose”. The lofty rhetoric of the candidate can’t match the day-to-day communications of the official. Has President Obama matched every promise of candidate Obama? No. Could things have been worse, if Obama didn’t do the things that he did? Yes. I guess it all comes down to whether you feel that things are getting better, or that things still suck. Is the cup half empty or half full? “Yeah. It’s halftime, America. And our second half is about to begin.”

On a more personal note, my mother, God rest her soul, once had a close encounter of the automobile kind with Clint. It was in Carmel, she in her Benz and he in his Rolls. There was no metal contact, so no harm, no foul.

Presidential Bicycle Dreams

We went to the STL Bike Federation’s swap sale today, bought a few things (gloves and leg warmers) and connected with some of our Team Kaldi’s friends. We had great plans to go biking in the Park afterwards, but inertia, the couch, and the warm sun shining through the window, all combined to scuttle those plans. At least on this sunny January day, we could still dream about bicycling.

The two main topics at the swap meet, at least among our friends, seemed be knees and summer bicycling plans. Our ages, as that of our bike friends, is such that many of our friends are either contemplating knee surgery or recovering from it. I am fortunate to be in neither camp, so the subject of summer vacations was much more interesting.

Anne is planning on doing the UP tour, run by the same group that organized last summer’s Michigan Shoreline tour. Some of our friends are planing on riding RAGBRAI, the Alleghany Trail and one is even going to Alaska. Anne and I are going to California, but not really to bicycle. After I scope out how many vacation days I will spend on that trip, I can figure out what to do for the rest of the summer.

Dave Bikes Mackinac Island

The following is the gist of the phone convo between me, her wyrd brother-in-law, and Jane. Convo is a synonym of conversation, but also conveys a certain hipness. Yeah, right. I tried being funny (ha-ha not looking), when the first thing I said was, “Did he feel like a Muslim?” Silence. Anne then exclaimed, “Tell her who you are!” I did and we were off and rolling, so much for me being funny. Jane’s answer was, “He felt like a Hawaiian.” Naturally, we were speaking of President Obama.

Jane attended Mr. Obama’s speech in Ann Arbor last week and got to shake his hand. News reports showed U of M students standing out in the cold all night to snag a ticket. Jane has friends and got special Whitehouse tickets to the event and spent most of her wait inside in the warmth.

The photo is from a few year’s back. Dave is obviously having a great time. Mackinac Island is a great place for family bicycling. I hear the fudge is pretty good too.

Wyrd Sisters

Indian Pipeweed - A Saprophytic Plant

Sister One: Eye of Newt and Toe of Froggie …

Sister Two: I was thinking something more vegetarian, maybe a sun-dried tomato-basil …

Sister Three: You know it is cheaper to buy sun-dried tomatoes at the Plum salad bar, than packaged? Well, I’m just saying.

There was a pause

One: Bubble, bubble, deep fat trouble. Big fat butts and chins that double.

Two: I don’t want to go to Clyde’s.

Three: If you only come in for one meal a day, soon your waist will fade away.

There was a long pause, followed by a shorter pause.

Two: I wouldn’t mind going out to eat, except that it is -7 °F cold outside. That’s too cold for me.

One: You think that is cold, it’s -22 °C in Canada.

Three: Oh, those poor, poor Canadians.

The night was as black as the inside of a cat.

One: Thrice the brinded cat hath mewed.

Two: Thrice and once the hedge pig whined.

Three: I’m getting hungry too. I wish that we could decide.

One: Three times the striped cat has proclaimed.

Two: Three times plus one, that would be four, the concealed pig complained.

Three: Thanks for the old English translation, but I’m still hungry. 

It was a dark and stormy night. The wind howled. Lightning stabbed at the earth erratically, like an inefficient assassin.

One: Something wicked this way comes.

Two: Double, double Toyota troubles, Firebirds and Cadillacs stumble, for all the EPA spells a pot of trouble.

Bill: Hey, what are you old witches doing about dinner?

Three: I’m not a witch, I’m your wife.

One: I’ve found a recipe. Let’s see here, round about the cauldron go; in the poisoned entrails throw, toad that under cold stone days and nights has thirty-one sweltered venom sleeping got, boil thou first in the charmed pot. What do you think about this dish?

Two: That doesn’t sound very vegan to me, but if you insist, I’ll eat meat. Instead of that recipe, why don’t we try this one. Fillet of Fenny snake, in the cauldron boil and bake; eye of newt …

Bill: She turned me into a newt, but I got better.

Two: … and toe of froggie, wool of bat. and tongue of doggie,

Bill: Alfred? Now his bite really will be worse than his bark.

Two: Adder’s fork, and blind worm’s sting, lizard’s breath, and owlet’s wing, for a charm of powerful trouble like a hell broth boil and bubble. What’d you think?

Three: While you three have been whining, I’ve been busy in the kitchen. I’ve whipped up two pans of my world-famous lasagna, one vegetarian and one with meat. It’s all done, so let’s sit down and eat already.

All: Double, double toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble.

The End

- Apologies all around, to the bard and Terry P. and to all my out-laws, except for maybe Alfred. ;-)

2011 – Our Year In Review

It is customary, at this time of year to take stock in life and review the passing year. These annual compilations don’t tend to announce any new news, but do serve the useful purpose of review, just in case you missed something. Hopefully, most readers will find this exercise instructive.

Now class, when I say, “ready to teach”, you say, “ready to learn”. Ready? “ready to teach”, ”ready to learn”, “ready to teach”, ”ready to learn”, “ready to teach”, ”ready to learn”. That was great class, so let’s begin teaching and learning.

Compiling the above twelve representative photos, I’ve noticed this trend in my life that my most interesting activities occur in the warmer months. I attribute this to my winter habit of hibernation. Most representative of this behavior, was last February’s storm damage. I slept through the storm. Realization of the damage only dawned the next morning, while looking out the front windows, at the crowd of neighbors that had gathered to gawk.

The placeholders for March and December are just that. December’s photo at least is inline with the retrospective theme of this post, but March, with its dullness, is just mocking me. In real life, January was just as dull, but in the virtual world of this blog, it came alive. Anne’s cousin Mac, asked me to post about his friend, Raymond Davis. They were bike buddies and Mr. Davis was in the news. He was being held captive in Pakistan, as a CIA spy. This one post garnered quite a few hits. Most of the comments made were supportive of Davis, but some were not. I elected not to publish those comments.

The most sorrowful event of 2011, was the passing of my mother, in May. She had been ill for some time, so it was not unexpected. She lived a full life that involved travel around the world. My father’s photo of my mother, epitomizes this and captures the moment, as they float together in a hot air balloon above the Serengeti at dawn. She is missed by her husband, her three sons, two daughters-in-law three grandsons, and many friends.

Our two sons, Dan and Dave, the artist and the engineer, are in graduate school this year. At year’s end, Dan has one more semester to go at CalArts, for his Masters of Art, and Dave has one semester down and TBD to go at Purdue, for his Doctorate, in biomedical engineering. Also this year, Dan had a summer internship at Ox-Bow, in Saugatuck and Dave finished up a year-long internship at NIH.

The summer months were full of travel, mainly to Michigan. In preparation for these travels, we bought a Prius. Prius, iPhones and Lattes, we have arrived. Anne, Jay and Carl left for Michigan first, by way of Tennessee, not exactly a shortcut. I eventually arrived on the shores of Gitchy Gumee, but then only briefly. We headed down-state to the Indiana line, left the Prius with Dan and proceeded to bicycle up the Lake Michigan coastline to the Mackinac Bridge, some 500 miles, with 500 friends, some from Saint Louis, most new to us. It was a great time and put us in fine fettle for our annual MS-150 bicycle ride, in September. Also in September, on one of our local rides to the park, Anne had opportunity to rescue a balloonist, she really threw herself into the task.

So, another year has come and gone. I’m older and wiser now, well, at least older. 2011 was a year marked with loss, but it also showed signs of promise. Near the end of their season, this year’s Saint Louis Cardinals miraculously came alive. They went on to capture the championship, but not before passing through the fire that was the 6th game of the World Series. That game was probably the most excruciating and delightful that I have ever seen.

At year’s end, we find ourselves thankful for what we have, family and friends and the good health to enjoy both. We are mindful for what we have lost, but also remember what we once had. At the cusp of the new year, we are hopeful for what it might bring.

Lakeboat

Today’s post is for all of those boat nerds out there. This collection of 15 photographs comprise the majority of nameable lake boats that I saw and photographed in the about a week’s time that I had at the cabin. All those boats that passed by, while I was without a camera (few), I muffed the shot and could not read its name or it was simply too dark to see a name, I’ll look for you next year. The title of this post is also a hat tip to David Mamet’s play and movie by the same title. I was going to include a link to a YouTube video of the movie, but Mammet’s language is too salty for the Great Lakes and this blog.

Home Again

We, being both Anne and I, are back home in Saint Louis tonight. It has been a long two days of driving, all the way back down from the Soo. I have been away for 18 days, while Anne has been out-of-town for 37 days. I definitely have work tomorrow and Anne may too, since school is already back in session. The first picture with this post is of Harry, Bubs, Anne and I, on the beach, Saturday morning. This photograph is courtesy of Paulette. The second photo is of Anne’s cousin Anne, also-known-as Kayak Women. We met her, Bill and Jane for breakfast, Sunday morning. It was sort of a reprise of Saturday night. Finally, Anne and Dave, who we met for lunch at Purdue. We switched cars with him, the Corolla for the Prizum. He definitely got the better deal. He is sharing an apartment with two Indian graduate students, Arun and Tarun. Tarun likes to cook and Dave likes what he cooks. Dave’s classes start on Monday. It will be nice to sleep in my own bed again.

Planetfall


“The Marriage of Figaro” made for a late night. We didn’t get to bed until after midnight. I’ve never been a big fan of opera, but the Soo Theater Company’s production seemed quite professional and Mozart’s music was great. The Soo Theater itself, is still a reconstruction project in progress. There is new seating now, but the ceiling is still a mess. There is one more matinee production of Figaro, on Sunday.

Late nights make for late risings, on the morning after. Breakfast, packing and one last walk down the beach, equated to a noon launch. On the walk, we saw six vultures circling overhead. I’m sure they were just looking dying gulls and not us, right? Everyone grab a stick and form a circle facing outward.

We chose to fly down the backside of the front, skirting green, yellow and red blobs all the way down M127 to Jackson. By the time we turned east, the storms had moved on. Dinner at Anne and Bill’s was FABULOUS! Jane appeared too, we all had a good time. Tonight, we rest at Chez Harry’s, even if Harry is not here, his spirit persists.