Level Up, Midwest
This (it's a restaurant's description from their web page):
...blends midwestern sensibilities and Tejano flair...
Well, that's a concern.
In my five-year experience, those two qualities do not blend successfully. Ever. The worst qualities of Midwestern food (blandness) overwhelm the best qualities of Mexican food.
As an example, this restaurant has the following taco description:
green chicken chorizo, chorizo, egg, hashbrown, queso fresco.
Those are all the right words, and many Mexican restaurants in the Midwest use the words for things that should taste good.
Do they taste good? They do not.
This restaurant is about a three-minute walk from my apartment, though, so as Charlie Brown, with Lucie smiling and holding the football in front of me, I set forth.
I ordered one of the already mentioned tacos, as well as green chile rice and borracho beans.
The rice and beans? Nope. Nope, nope, nope.
The taco? Delicious. Totally worthy. And not too expensive, either.
Let the extended celebrations begin!
The Paper Beast Has Been Slain
Behold:
Over 150 separate folds. Which is not very many, by origami standards. DQ Origami Expert Garret Alley filled me in on a few basics. In short, origami's complexity level is so staggeringly insane that I had absolutely no idea. Not a clue.
This is modular origami with five pieces (four petals, one eye). And I didn't even fold it very well, but damn, that took a big chunk out of a week. And I'll tell you, it felt so satisfying when I actually made one that looked decent.
What I didn't understand about origami is that it has two levels of beauty that are very appealing. There's an external beauty from looking at the finished product, but there's also an internal beauty that only reveals itself as you learn to do all the folds. It's really stunning how these petals slide into the eye (using that one sorcerer's fold that I finally learned how to do).
No origami for a while. I've had enough for now.
Unnecessary
I went to the mall today.
I saw a new store called "Bath Planet," and I quickly asked the relevant question: do we really need an entire planet for baths?
I don't even think a whole country is needed, or even a state. Bath County still seems excessive. Bath Town? Still too big. Even Bath Village seems like more infrastructure than we need for baths.
I would be totally satisfied with either Bath House or Bath Room, although both would obviously cause some confusion.
There's no obvious answer here, although I have to say Bath Gazebo is growing on me.
Friday Links!
Leading off this week, and it's a mind-blowing story:
A fake wedding, and a $250,000 scam.
Someone took the details of this incident and wound it into a deliciously subversive story ("there is no indication the incident had anything to do with the price of lumber" is Hall of Fame quality):
Police break up exorcism inside Home Depot store.
From Chris Meadowcraft, and it's fascinating:
Dark Fish.
State of Illness
All right, let's do it.
I decided on Monday that I wanted to make an origami daisy, because my brain was mush and I am very cheevo-oriented.
Also, because I am insane. Origami is excruciatingly precise.
I found an excellent video, and then I couldn't make it to the end, because of one particularly maddening fold. Then I found a second video, much like the first video, and I made it quite well until at 6:15 he does some kind of sorcerer's move not of this Earth.
Even worse, even trying to do this fold of the dark arts unfolds a bunch of other things, and how did those things fold originally? I have no idea.
I persevered.
I failed on the first day, and the second. On the third, today, using a paper twice the correct size, I somehow managed to do it correctly. However, my chances of doing it with the half-sized paper are essentially zero stretching into forever.
So here's a link to the video:
How to make a Paper "Daisy Flower" - Modular Origami. If you have idle time, and are so inclined, have your whack at this Everest of disappointment. If you do it successfully, send me a picture, and you will be forever enshrined in the Dubious Quality Origami Hall of Fame, which is a thing that doesn't exist but it will be starting immediately.
Unsuccessful attempts may also be enshrined, depending on their comedy level.
How The Day's Going
Curse you, origami!
Drama, Or Lack Of It
The NBA is an incredibly skilled league right now. It's fun to watch.
When the clock is running, that is.
Last night, the last 1:30 (90 seconds) of the Clippers-Suns game took 42 minutes to play.
Don't believe me? I made a breakdown.
1:31 Official review (5 minutes, including 3:30 of commercials)
1:06 Official review (3:00)
0:30 Timeout Phoenix (3:30 commercials)
0:27 Timeout L.A. (3:30 commercials)
0:9.2 Official Review (6:00, including 3:30 of commercials)
0:7.8 Timeout Phoenix (3:30 commercials)
0:0.9 Official Review (2:30)
0:0.7 Official Review (6:00)
The clock wasn't running for all of the rest, but at least the players were on the court.
The last 0:30, by the way, took 33 minutes.
It seems like when you show 20 minutes of commercials in the last 90 seconds of the game, you have a problem (not to mention 5 official reviews). And it's too bad, because without the 40 minutes of padding, the ending would have been one of the best I've ever seen to an NBA game.
Might want to get that fixed, NBA.
Baby Steps
Well, as I struggle through both a bad back and a throat infection (bonus!), I thought yesterday about Carl Nassib.
Nassib is a defensive end for the Oakland Raiders, and he came out as gay yesterday. And you know what was nice?
It wasn't a big deal.
Nobody threw out their ice-cold take about how it might "disrupt" the locker room. Nobody said it would make his teammates question him. I didn't hear one idiot take yesterday.
Remember just seven years ago when Michael Sam came out before the draft? Pearl clutchers were out in full force, talking about "team chemistry" and every other possible vague term for "we don't like gay people." It was a huge deal.
I've never really understood why everyone who wasn't white, male and Christian had to fight to be treated equally for over two centuries in this country. And, in many cases, still aren't.
Still, though, this is progress
Supreme Court to the NCAA: "You're morons."
The Supreme Court brought down the hammer on the NCAA today.
The NCAA has always had an impenetrable forest of regulations restricting athletes from compensation, including computers, internships, and study abroad. They don't actually care about this kind of compensation, of course, but any kind of compensation raises the possibility of opening the barn door to athletes actually getting paid for being employees.
The Supreme Court basically mocked the NCAA's position in a 9-0 decision. And for the first and probably only time in my life, I agree with Brett Kavanaugh:
"Nowhere else in America can businesses get away with agreeing not to pay their workers a fair market rate on the theory that their product is defined by not paying their workers a fair market rate," Kavanaugh wrote. "And under ordinary principles of antitrust law, it is not evident why college sports should be any different. The NCAA is not above the law."
Skewered.
This decision is not to be confused with pending NIL (name, image, likeness) changes, which are coming at rocket speed. But the ridiculous arguments about compensation will fall quickly now. The Overton window is no longer "Should college athletes be compensated?" but "How should college athletes be compensated?" That's a big deal.
I can't wait for how long it takes ESPN to trot out a coach's son/ex-athlete shouting that "a scholarship and the honor of representing the school" should be enough compensation for anyone.
Whatever, boomer.
Games
Today's edition of Dubious Quality is brought to you standing up, because even though I can still swing hard enough to hit a golf ball really far, that doesn't mean I should.
Slipways is the first game I want to talk about. It's a space strategy game that takes about thirty minutes a session to play. Basically, you're just exploring planets to see what kinds of trade they support, then connecting planets with inputs/outputs so that everything is optimized. There is also an excellent tech tree to explore, if you build science laboratories and supply them with personnel and resources.
I know that sounds simple, but it is staggeringly satisfying to watch planets become more successful as you build networks of planets that work with each other. Very flow state, for me, and I highly recommend it. $16.99, and worth every penny.
The second game is just a demo, for now: Ogopogo (yes, I also love that name so much). It's a form of Tetris, but instead of shapes you're creating color palindromes with tiles. The way it bends your brain is entirely wonderful, and it's releasing on August 27 with lots of additional gameplay and modes. The demo is absolutely worth checking out.
Man, People
This is the number of vaccination doses given per 100,000 people in the U.S. by state:
You don't even need a legend, do you? It's immediately obvious that the lowest vaccination rate is the states with the light green shading. 17 states, 16 of whom voted for Trump (plus Georgia).
Of course, your chances for hospitalization if you catch COVID are no different than they were three months ago. And if you're unvaccinated, your only protection comes from other people being vaccinated. Plus, given the low vaccination rates in those states, the virus is going to have a much longer time to possibly mutate into something that the vaccines aren't effective against (requiring a booster, which will take time).
I'm trying to be optimistic here, but damn. People.
Two Tales Told in Texts
One of my very good friends was in a situation last weekend where he had to be social for several consecutive days with a family he really didn't want to see. He spent the first two days min-maxing the situation, then texted me this on Saturday night:
In case you're wondering, meal #3 is when you run out of things to say to people you don't really want to be around.
I texted back:
That's meal #1 for me.
Hmm, I guess that's a tale about me, in the end. Footnote: he survived.
Second tale. Eli 19.10, after driving back from Glacier National Park in two days (12+ hours on the road each day), arrived at 2:00 a.m. this morning. I had intended to be there to give him a hug, but that was too late for even my highest ambition.
I figured he'd be exhausted today.
Instead, when I woke up, I had this text waiting for me:
2:11 AM
Hey, text me in the morning if you want to golf early, maybe tee off around 9!
I believe if we extracted his energy core it would power an entire nation.
I Think It Would Catch on
For some reason, I woke up yesterday thinking about a hipster restaurant called "Navel" that would be pronounced. "nah-vel."
Glacier National Park
Yeah, that's hard to beat.
Border
Border is definitely one of the more astonishing films I've ever seen.
African mythology and the San
I'm currently reading
The Hero with an African face, and it's fascinating. I got it because of the story I mentioned last week about the Khoikhoi: Aigamuxa, monster with its eyes on the insteps of its feet.
This book mentions the mythology of the San (pejoratively known as "Bushmen"), and their rock art, which dates back thirty thousand years.
For a long time, Western culture viewed this art as much more recent. Erich Von Daniken couldn't believe that they even created it, and claimed it was of extraterrestrial origin (nice try, goober).
For the San, the antelope (eland) is the "supreme vehicle of shamanic power," and the art represents both eland dying (which very specific details, like its hind legs crossing as it falters and the hair standing up on its body in a response from the nervous system), and shamans entering a spiritual state (where they acquire traits of the dying eland, so a shaman holding the eland's tail has his legs crossed, too). I'm breaking about a dozen copyright laws here, but I took a picture:
If you click on that to enlarge, you can see how beautifully the details from the eland image are transferred to the shamans.
There's also good evidence that these images were much more than symbolic, because some of the details represented by other images suggest some of the same sensations that people experience while in a trance state.
It's a fascinating book, if you're interested in mythology. He also talks a bit about how mythology has a different perspective in different cultures. In Western cultures, the focus is on the individual. In Eastern cultures, the focus is on the group. In African cultures, it's more balanced. There is a common African saying that goes "I am because we are. We are because I am."
Oops (cue flute playing)
Jethro Tull nerd Michael Gilbert told me (quite gently) that I have chronic lyricosis, as "reverie tree" is actually "under every tree."
Point taken.
In my defense, though, damn, my version is good.
The Reverie Tree
There's a song in Jethro Tull's
Songs From the Wood that talks about someone sitting in the "reverie tree."
I think we all have one of those. It's the place where we feel most at peace.
It's different for everyone, I'm sure, but for me, it's when I'm totally absorbed in something. It's called "flow state" now.
That defines just about every peaceful moment I have. Meditation. Being with Eli 19.10. Writing. Even films, at times. Anything that totally concentrates me.
One of the unique aspects of this, for me, is that I can get into this state with people. With Eli, it's pretty much instant, and almost always has been. Also, one of the reasons that therapy has done so much for me is that I get into flow state with my therapist. It took about three years, but it happens on a pretty regular basis now, and it makes it possible for me to reflect on things I couldn't face otherwise.
I'm guessing this is different for extroverts, and that they'd have a very different reverie tree than I do.
I was driving today (which, like everyone, is one of the places I get ideas), and I suddenly thought about arcades.
Then about three realizations hit me at once.
The first was that I always felt comfortable in arcades, even though it was a social situation. I met friends there all the time, but I never had that oppressive awkwardness that I felt in many other situations.
I think it was because when I played arcade games, I definitely got into flow state. So it wasn't all social interaction. I'd play a game, talk, play again. So even though I was around a lot of people, most of whom I didn't know, I never locked up.
In contrast, in situations that are entirely social and involve lots of people, I don't have that little bit of restoration, so my battery drains incredibly quickly. I really struggle in those situations.
Hmm, I was supposed to go from first to second to third. Okay, "many" realizations, not three.
The last thing I thought of was that I need to create that little buffer for myself. in those situations It could be a person, or an activity, or something. But I can't sit somewhere and try to drift in and out of conversations.
In that situation, I'm definitely the Titanic.
Yellowstone and Grand Tetons
Eli 19.10 keeps sending me incredible pictures, so I'm just going to go with it.
These are all from Yellowstone and Grand Tetons.
Not to be outdone, though, here's today's wildlife report from my little public golf course. The first otter of the season (he's in the very center and very small, because I didn't want to get too close and spook him):
And a deer off the 6th tee:
Also, a chipmunk (no picture).
I texted Eli and said "Probably better than the crap you saw."
On the Road with Eli 19.10
"Did you get the last text I sent you that said 'We just saw a bear. It was awesome.' ?"
"I did not," I said.
"Good, because right after that, I lost signal and my phone ran out of battery. That was six hours ago."
Yeah, that would have been concerning.
It was a black bear, about fifteen feet away, and it was very polite, apparently. It looked at them, then turned and walked off. No bear spray necessary.
Eli is on his way to Glacier National Park today, and he said the trip has been spectacular so far, although he owes me quite a few pictures he hasn't sent yet. However, here's what he did send:
Here's the obligatory Mount Rushmore shot, which they stopped at for a few minutes before heading off to Yellowstone (I think--their route in far off countries like "the Dakotas" seems very vague to me):
Mount Rushmore seems like the ultimate "check it off your list" stop. The Crazy Horse monument (still unfinished) has a much more interesting history (and man, is it larger).
Ah, South Dakota. Never change.
Friday Links!
Out of nowhere, a huge week this week.
This is an absolutely fascinating article on the science behind edibles:
Building a better edible.
From C. Lee, and it's a tremendous four-part series on game ratings from the Digital Antiquarian:
A Realization
I realized something when I was at my little public golf course today.
I saw a man with his daughter, playing golf. That's great. But then I realized that it was one of the fathers who is constantly working with his daughter on the range, and she's one of the kids who wants to use golf as a way to get a college scholarship.
Nothing wrong with that.
What made me sad, though, is that every time I see a man playing golf with his daughter, it's that kind of situation. I've never seen one dad out playing golf with a daughter who just sucked at golf.
I see dads out with sons who can't play golf all the time. They're just out there to spend time together.
So it stands out when I've never seen a dad with a daughter who's bad at golf. Just out there, hacking around and enjoying each other's company. I hope I see something like that someday.
On another sad note that is much less important, I had a chance to be -4 after six holes on Tuesday and couldn't putt because I was kind of overwhelmed by the moment. I was having a real Twilight Zone episode as far as striking the ball, and I couldn't believe I could play that well, so I hit the ball like that for all nine holes and couldn't make a single putt.
Next time, I'll be more likely to believe that it can happen. Golf is funny like that.
Imagination
I'm re-reading Joseph Campbell's The Hero With a Thousand Faces for research on the next book (The Man You Trust isn't finished, but I'm not working on it again until next week).
I'd forgotten some of the astonishing myths from other cultures. In particular, the Khoikhoi (called the "Hottentots" originally by the British when they first found them), who have the following myth:
Aigamuchab, an ogre that has occasionally been encountered among the scrubs and dunes. Its eyes are set down on its instep, so that to discover what is going on it has to get down on hands and knees, and hold up one foot. The eye then looks behind, otherwise it is gazing continually at the sky.
That's astounding enough, but they also have this fellow:
...the Hai-uri progresses by leaping over clumps of scrub instead of going around them. A dangerous, one-legged, one-armed, one-sided figure--the half-man--invisible if viewed from the off side, is encountered in many parts of the earth.
Eyes on the instep. Invisible if viewed from the off side. Those are so incredibly creative that I feel entirely inadequate.
Survival, Somehow
Eli 19.10 is coming up with his wonderful girlfriend this afternoon and staying for two days before they leave for a two-week National Parks trip.
They'll be camping, which causes me some anxiety.
Actually, a fair amount of anxiety, because parents always worry about situations where their children could be vulnerable.
Of course, I have to remind myself that when I was twenty, I went on the most ridiculous trip ever.
I had been a camp counselor at a summer camp in Massachusetts the previous year, and had gotten to be very good friends with an older counselor from Florida who was into endurance runs. So he proposed that I meet him in Tallahassee in June, we take a bus to Daytona Beach, and run down to Miami on the coast.
Believe it or not, that wasn't the stupid part (we did do the run, and it was both brutal and fantastic).
The stupid part was I wanted to bicycle there from South Texas.
The thing about me at twenty was that I just had no real fear of anything, except groups of people (introverted, remember). I wrote to newspapers along the proposed route, said I was going to write a book about the trip, and asked if they could publish my letter in their paper to hopefully have people offer places to stay.
Incredibly, they did.
This was 1981, remember, and things were less complicated back then. So people wrote me letters and offered their homes for the night.
I didn't get the bicycle and the panniers, gear, etc., until very close to the trip, so I only had time to take a very small number of rides.
In my favor, though, I was very strong from running, and I was young, and the coast of Texas is very flat. So I started out, doing about 35 miles a day (which is really not much, unless you've never done it before).
I was hopelessly unprepared, really, but as long as you can turn the pedals, you keep moving down the road, and I did.
The route I eventually went through was about 1,000 miles, and it took about three weeks or so. I do remember riding 106 miles one day in a part of Florida that was very hilly, and it was 104F that day.
I stayed with strangers for three weeks, rode on lots of scary roads, and it was all okay. Even though looking back on it, I don't know how.
Eli 19.10 is prepared, careful, and has a car, a phone, GPS, a credit card, and a companion. I remind myself of all of those things.
One other thing I remember. After about a week, I got into a car for the first time after cycling about 300 miles. It was incredibly disorienting to go at highway speed, so much so that it was hard for me to even look at the road.
