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Archive for April, 2012

I started watching “The Avengers” this weekend (don’t question my mad skills) and I was pleased to see that the tesseract makes a significant appearance, at least as far as I’ve gotten into the movie which, admittedly, isn’t all that far. I was just talking about tesseract the other day…There is no such thing as coincidence my friends. In fact, I know I’m doing something wrong when coincidence kind of falls away or is only negative with unhappy consequences. And there’s been some of that lately. Which means I have to flip the switch again and get things back to positive. Not always the easiest stuff to do because we all know these people. Hell, I may be one of them.

In any event, we swept our double-header Saturday and LSU — tough team who gave us some worry in the early innings — came through with some homecooked red beans and rice. Check it:

They have a traveling chef. I'm not kidding.

I’m really looking forward to getting to know some of them better because they seem to have that cool combination of being super sporty and also totally nerdy — scientists, lawyers, and applied economists. To me, this is a heavenly combination. One of them posted this on Facebook this morning. My kind of folks.

Neil DeGrasse Tyson was wondering recently why we “stopped reaching for the stars” and, before I read the actual piece, I sent it out with the satirical question: “Oh for Pete’s sake, NASA defunding?” Well, as it turns out, Tyson is asking the same question. So mea culpa for immediately jumping to a conclusion. While it seemed stupid to me at the time when President Obama slashed funding to the agency (leading to stuff like this. The David Bowie Concept Mission flat cracked me up.), there has been great movement in the private sector to continue the space race. But — and get ready left-leaning conspiracy theorists — there is a national military interest in keeping NASA in business, which is actually one of those things that the federal government has an interest and a mandate to involve themselves in. So…hmmm…not sure exactly how I feel about it…but I’m with Mr. Tyson: we definitely need to keep reaching and innovating. We are on the verge of some truly great things. My suspicion is that we’ll all have an entirely different understanding of things within the next five years. Just a gut instinct…

Speaking of space…I have this shirt. I love to run in it. Ceres thinks Pluto’s a whiner.

Speaking of whining, the kids are organizing again. The Coach and I were talking about this this morning and he told me this story and I think it is my favorite Occupy story:

“I think the camp in NYC started doing this thing where they created these ‘tickets’ and you could earn tickets by doing services or creating goods. And then you could exchange those tickets for other goods and services. It’s like…YOU MORONS. THAT’S MONEY. YOU’RE USING CAPITALISM.”

Because make no mistake: it was never about hating the system. It was about wanting the power. “Don’t hate the banks. Become the banks.”

Speaking of capitalism, I like CatPig Radium quite a bit…

Speaking of The Coach, he also sent this. Kimmel’s a good mensch.

Speaking of a good mensch, I like this guy’s rambling thoughts. This is from last week but it’s important because the last question is one for the ages.

Speaking of rambling thoughts, the best drunk history I’ve seen because I have a gigantic nerd crush on Tesla and the guy actually vomits on camera. Watch if you dare.

Speaking of gagging, the Trotter says he has personally said at least 6 of these. He’s a good kid though. He says it’s because his parents were “present.”

Speaking of presents, I would totally wear this. Utilitarian and actually rather pretty. My birthday’s coming up this summer…Just sayin’.

Speaking of … um … wearing something? Proud of Nashville. My brother lived there for years and I’ve always liked the place. Very cool. Just don’t be Boston.

Speaking of being nothing like Boston, check out this card my swim friend sent me this morning (as in, we swim together on the weekends sometimes. Which, by the way, I have missed terribly and it’s good to be finding my breath again). Good people make the difference.

And, because I always try to post this song when I talk about Tesla, have some 80s soft-rock hair metal. It’s like a little slice of electric heaven for me.

 

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Had a scary moment today where I was filled with a simultaneous urge to cry and beat the hell out of something. I’m not proud of it. And it’s passed now. But it was weird, primarily because I literally didn’t know where to turn for support. And that’s something I need to think about at some point. For now, I just feel like this:

As an aside, I think I know someone who’s mean to me to try to impress people that he’s…I don’t know, mean I guess. It’s been such a long time since I encountered that kind of thing — like, since elementary school — that it took a while to recognize what it was. It’s very odd. Both that someone would employ a method like that to get people to like him and that there are people that are actually impressed by it. Not totally sure what you’re bonding over in a scenario like that…The Trotter — who says he’s familiar with it because he’s closer to the age group that still finds this kind of thing a useful behavior (ahem) — tells me it’s mostly about self-loathing. Weird that I’m dealing with the same stuff my nieces and nephews are dealing with in their pre-teen/teen years. </confusion rant>

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Pied Piper

You only need one to believe in you. -- Nick Holmes

The next two days at work are going to be a little nuts so I’m going to enjoy my breakfast (cinnamon toast. First thing I learned to “cook” as a wee little squab. Thanks for teaching me Lou. They make it so much easier now. I actually think you taught me one summer here in Maryland at the river house. Maybe I’m not so far from home…) and write something here before I have to jet to the metro for glorious Alexandria.

I came across something this morning from a friend on Facebook (h/t Mr. Rooker) that surprised and then, ultimately, made me deeply sad. I hesitate to even post this but maybe it’s important. Just know that the level of coarseness, stupidity, and vitriol is hard to take and may actually make you mad. Which, generally speaking, is what this kind of thing is supposed to do. So, if you think you can manage not to give in to the hate and can squelch the urge to run out and punch a redneck, read on. (UPDATE: there’s some debate that these may not be real tweets but they, as yet, appear to be.)

The Caps victory last night was tremendous and Joel Ward was the hero. And yes, he is a black man playing a sport that is comprised mainly of white men (if that catch-all designation really means anything anymore. Genetically speaking, it doesn’t. But whatever.). And for this, he should be considered a bit of a ground breaker. It’s fucking cool to break the mold and twist the stereotype, no matter if you’re Charlie Pride, Eminem, Tiger Woods, or Yao Ming (or Barack Obama, or Sally Ride, or Mary Shelley, or Bobby Jindal, etc., etc…). And dammit, I liked Boston when I visited. It’s a cool city and this bummed me out. But I’ll say this: my friend who posted this said he was unsurprised when he read where it was from. As a Southerner I understand that you can’t assume an entire city (or region. ahem.) carries this kind of single-celled brain function in them without being very mistaken, so I’m not willing to hate on the whole city of Boston, nor the entire state of Massachusetts. But it is tremendously sad that this kind of mullet-headed reaction exists and people are comfortable enough to spew it online. That might be saying something. Personally, I tend to walk away from nonsense like this. I give it no time nor attention. So, Joel Ward, keep your hockey hand strong my friend. And ignore the haters. Jealousy really does bring out what’s really going on inside and that’s good information to have. Because once you see it, you know who to avoid.

Anyway, other things…

It still has an edge — once in cab I was on the phone with my sister and there were gunshots and she was like, “Um, where are you…? — but there’s some groovy stuff going on. (h/t Mr. U Street himself, Charlie L.)

Then you do this, New York Times…sigh. The person who posted this made the statement that because of this cozy relationship developing between hospitals and insurance collectors, everyone needs insurance. I wouldn’t rush to judgment that this cozy relationship isn’t being “astroturfed” — for lack of a better word — to get people to believe just that. Always good to check into who these collectors are. Are they purely private businesses or do they have other associations and interests. I don’t know the answer. Just throwing it out there…

This was fascinating. The one about being private about sex was interesting given that porn is the highest money maker on the web. Although…I will say that some people are less private about it. Are they closer to their animal nature? And what does this mean for the religious ideas that man transcends his animal nature — and should? Just thinking…

Sometimes I miss Stella really, really badly. It’s okay. Stuff like this makes me remember her awesomeness. She could chart the stars, too.

The cocktail from my favorite book in a lollipop. Don’t panic.

The Nerd American sent this to me and was like, “I don’t even know how to begin to answer the questions…”

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In case you wonder, all these links I find? I save them up for blog posts. Part of my job is to search the web for news and I come across all kinds of fun stuff over the days between posts. Everything is interesting…Like this little guy who popped on Facebook. Awesome, right?

So, we have a double-header coming up this weekend against LSU and Tulane and it has been revealed that LSU is arranging for all of us to have some Popeye’s fried chicken for lunch. Seriously, I don’t think I’ve heard of a nicer gesture in quite a while. Faith in humanity = restored. Maybe I’ll see if any of them want in on the Braves/Nats outing I’m trying to pull together for the first weekend in June. We have softball games that Saturday and no one can decide if Friday or Sunday is a better day but we’ll get something going I hope. If not, I’m taking LSU. Because I’m hoping one of them will take me to New Orleans sometime. True story.

Anyway, something’s been bugging me. I live with this constant Catholic guilt where I have this weird zero-sum game mentality — but only in one direction. Let me explain…let’s say you’ve been treated kind of nasty by someone and, karma getting its way as it has a tendency to do, the switch flips and you discover that maybe that person isn’t having such a good go of things. We all know this scenario. It’s happened to me a jillion times in life. And always, I’ve felt like maybe I shouldn’t enjoy when that person essentially just finally has to deal with the decisions they’ve made. I’ve been largely comfortable that I should check my schadenfreude celebration at the door — it seemed like a good way to be. But lately…I don’t know. Maybe it’s just being in DC but I’ve come to this decision that if you had zero consideration for my feelings and even enjoyed the thought that I may be inconvenienced or hurt by your behavior then I’m obliged — and maybe required — to feel the same for you. I’m still working it out. Some of this kind of came out of a conversation I was having with the coach about how there’s this incredible chasm between people who can accept when they’ve done something stupid and wrong and have the ability and need to apologize, and those who cannot accept and will never apologize…Anyway, I know it’s disjointed. It’s Monday, man. Cut me a break.

Okay then, good and funny things.

This is so awesome. Hipsters are dumb.

Fascinating. It is absolutely true that some of the larger, more complex, ethical questions actually do not occur organically in nature. No, these are mysterious “rational thought” exercises that are arguably only the purview of man.

Justin Theroux is like, so much hotter than Brad Pitt. Go on witcha bad self gurl.

Want. My sister makes my grandma’s rum balls every Christmas. I’m wondering about bourbon…

Seriously, where the hell have I been? If it comes to DC any time soon, expect a begging invitation.

This is a good.

 

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For all you naysayers who doubted that I can take a mean picture when I want to, I give you the original for comparison. Must suck to not believe.

Original image, using the long-angle lens as it buzzed Reagan National heading West over the Potomac

Slightly cropped and color-enhanced using iPhoto for Mac

I don’t want to go too far down this ugly little rabbit hole but the news coming out of Florida in the Zimmerman probable cause hearing is causing some sadness in my heart over here. This whole thing is one awful set of circumstances and it is almost unforgivable I think on the part of the spin masters who started early — obviously before the facts were in because as more and more gets revealed what was originally alleged to have happened appears to bear only a passing resemblance to the truth. Trayvon Martin’s family, in their grief, was easy to convince, I’m sure, to be reactionary rather than rational. I may have been convinced as well, had I lost a child. And Zimmerman, who acted rashly and no doubt deserves punishment because his behavior led to a person’s death, has been inappropriately charged with murder rather than manslaughter and, if he walks — and given all the information coming out that Zimmerman may not have been the aggressor, he could — well, I guess he just walks. Also, not a great outcome because he is culpable here. This is what happens when you try to turn a real tragedy into a “teachable moment.” And I’ll just leave it there.

Something hilarious just happened at work. I was talking to a co-worker about this idea that you can’t trust any politician (I don’t happen to agree with that much of a blanket statement) and I said aloud, “My dad feels that way about lawyers. Is that fair?” and, in unison from the mouths of two lawyers I work with I hear, “Yes.” So, there ya go.

Alright, other things that are lighter and better for a pretty Friday afternoon…

Quote of the day from the Nerd American: “I’m waiting for the meatloaf sandwich vodka.”

Very cool article that was both entertaining and educational. This is information I may actually use at some point down the road. I always forget how much I like Pajiba until I see a random link somewhere and am reminded. I need to just go ahead and bookmark it…

This was brought to my attention yesterday and, while the person who posted it took issue mainly with the condescension on the patriarchy of The Church, I find it more revealing for it’s connection to the individual mandate. Because I do think it’s strange to swoop in and start “reforming” things in a country that values free speech. But The Vatican, as we know, is not in this country. And so, while I agree with the Church push-back to the individual mandate, I’m not sure I like the method of control here…

Again, information I may actually use.

The chick pirate is my favorite.
I really liked this movie. Will it make you think? No. But it reminded me that some stuff matters, hokey or not.

Will be made sometime this weekend between our softball tourney down on the Mall tomorrow morning and swimming and church Sunday. Because man it just looks good. And appears to be relatively low maintenance. Also a win.

Thanks Trotter. I feel like this every day.

I’m thinking I may owe someone $50.

Finally, appropriate for the man. God I love TS Eliot. He could just bend a sentence to his will.

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UPDATE: Rest well Mr. Helm.

I’ll have a better post tomorrow, I’m just busy and I’m all twitchy for dance class tonight since I missed Saturday. But the back is cooperating so it should be a nice sweaty, semi-religious good time. Pity it’s on a Thursday since that seems to be a play day for everyone but I’ve always bucked convention. Call me on Friday.

Anyway, I have but one thing to offer because it made me laugh aloud and so therefore should be shared. A conversation with The Coach via gchat:

me: obama, meet your mata hari
http://dcist.com/2012/04/photo_released_of_the_colombian_esc.php
Coach: Ha
Honestly, better looking than I expected
me: yeah, she’s very attractive
she’s also 24 and has a 9 year old son
Coach: I was just gonna say
me: i bet you were
Coach: No that really stuck out
24 years old with a nine year old son?
The math is not favorable
Although
You wanna talk about favorable math
How about 21 hookers for 11 people
me: right
i was just gonna say… i think she was owed like $800
and only got $28
Coach: Oh
I thought she was owed $50
Like, 50 more than she got
 me: the dcist piece says 800…
which i think is why she went to the police
Coach: Right
I dunno, what’s the exchange rate for Colombian money?
me: no idea
Coach: Well that’s what I mean
Maybe $28 American is perfectly reasonable
I can’t imagine any hooker is worth $800
But hey, that’s just me
me: maybe she’s really good at something
Coach: Ha
Even so
For $800, you can give several lesser talents a chance

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Just getting around to writing this…When I first moved to this town two years ago, someone who knew I came from Georgia told me it was a “backwater” state. Now, like the good Southern woman I am, I simply smiled at this giant of intellect like butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth like my momma taught me, and I said: “It’s too bad you think that. You’re missing out on a lot with that preconception.” She was tremendously unsophisticated I thought.

Recently, someone suggested to me they didn’t even know where Georgia was on a map (solipsism is fun!) and very recently I was told that someone had been employed at another organization where the press liaison was a guy with a pronounced Southern accent and, because of this, when he talked to press he made the organization look “really bad and dumb.” Ahem. Where to start…

Well, I guess by acknowledging that I kind of understand now why other Southerners I know that live here aren’t as vocal as I am about being proud of our shared regional beginnings. Not to say I agree that you should let the perpetually unhappy (because you kind of have to be to try to make folks feel bad about something like where they come from. I mean Jesus. Get a hobby.) make you feel ashamed of what I consider to be a great advantage. But I do understand.

Second, it occurred to me after a conversation with a friend who said maybe it might be okay to tone down the accent in “professional” settings, what would happen if someone told someone from the West Indies not to sound like Bob Marley. Or if someone from India was told that they had to sound Midwestern in order to be taken seriously. Or if any native Spanish-speaker was told they made an organization sound bad and dumb because of their accent.

So, um, I think the twang stays. Y’all. Also, there’s this:

Around the turn of the 18th 19th century, not long after the revolution, non-rhotic speech took off in southern England, especially among the upper and upper-middle classes. It was a signifier of class and status. This posh accent was standardized as Received Pronunciation and taught widely by pronunciation tutors to people who wanted to learn to speak fashionably. Because the Received Pronunciation accent was regionally “neutral” and easy to understand, it spread across England and the empire through the armed forces, the civil service and, later, the BBC.

Across the pond, many former colonists also adopted and imitated Received Pronunciation to show off their status. This happened especially in the port cities that still had close trading ties with England — Boston, Richmond, Charleston, and Savannah. From the Southeastern coast, the RP sound spread through much of the South along with plantation culture and wealth.

After industrialization and the Civil War and well into the 20th century, political and economic power largely passed from the port cities and cotton regions to the manufacturing hubs of the Mid Atlantic and Midwest — New York, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Chicago, Detroit, etc. The British elite had much less cultural and linguistic influence in these places, which were mostly populated by the Scots-Irish and other settlers from Northern Britain, and rhotic English was still spoken there. As industrialists in these cities became the self-made economic and political elites of the Industrial Era, Received Pronunciation lost its status and fizzled out in the U.S. The prevalent accent in the Rust Belt, though, got dubbed General American and spread across the states just as RP had in Britain.

Okay, moving on. This hairstyle is legit. Although the guy with the African drum frightens me and I’m sure he’ll show up in a future nightmare.

I think I’ve finally made a decision.
Thanks for the advice Pops.

Oh how magnificent! I love Nicole Ari Parker and Blair Underwood just gets better looking. My late pup Stella’s namesake. My pops happened to be watching it on TV when I took the little goober home seeking a name. I had her for 13 years. Sometimes I miss her really badly…

Finally, How incredible is this song?

https://embed.spotify.com/?uri=spotify:track:6pJBPqv5B6DgCHKY92GPo4

I move when I hear it. I can’t help it. And sharing it with you has allowed me the opportunity to play with this.

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Words of wisdom from my refrigerator.

 

Dang man, I did a number on my left butt muscle in dance class yesterday. We were doing this double pencil turn into a slow drop to the floor (without hands) into a fish roll into a stand from one knee and I think I hyper-extended a muscle that doesn’t typically move in that direction. Now, a rational person would not go to their dance class on Saturday. I am no such person. I’ll see what my body lets me handle because I think it might be worse to do nothing and let it tighten up. Anyway, ow.

I have no deep thoughts today. Some days are simply just for moving through the motions until the boys and I can grab an early beer before I head to — I think — our season opener softball party. There was a rumor of some turkey fry tonight out in Maryland but I’m not sure my butt will let me travel that far…

In any event, here’s some things…

An excerpt from the current read. Pretty good book…

“She had performed sixteen speaking roles in a dozen different productions. The numbers looked funny because she tended to get cast in roles so small that, with a change of costume, she could easily do more than one in the same play. With time and experience she had graduated to sidekick and girlfriend roles in small productions around Oxford. Beyond that, she had no ambitions in the theatrical world. But she had come to understand that the decisions of casting directors reflected the way that people in general, and men in particular, looked at her. New men who swam into her environment ignored her at first. Some then began to gaze curiously at her. Then they either went back to ignoring her or else found some way of letting her know that they thought she was beautiful; that this was by no means obvious; and that they deserved some reward or appreciation for having been so ingenious as to notice it. Different directors had awarded greater or lesser roles depending on where they fell in the continuum of Olivia-face appreciation, but starring roles had alluded her for the reason mentioned.

But in the deep cover agent game, bit players, girlfriends, and sidekicks were precisely what was wanted. No James Bond types need apply.” ~REAMDE

This was on this morning as I got ready for work. Speaking of James Bond, Sean Connery was also Mark Rutland. Marnie never had a chance. My Hitchcock obsession was fueled by this kind of elusive sexual tension and hinted-at tragedy.


 

 

The coach said this was just a huge inside joke for people that live in DC. Totally agree. I have to say, the one about the people on the escalator: I can relate. Animated GIF’s are fun!

Because the work boys have the frequent displeasure of hearing my animal/kid voice (most prominent at the sight of cute kitten videos), the Nerd American just sent me this. So true.

Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. I believe Z secretly has these thoughts, mixed in with the ones where he dreams about eating my eyeballs if I happen to die in my sleep. Too much? (h/t Liz)

One of these years, when I get back to the hometown for more than just a few days, I’m hitting up Mr. Acheson’s Empire State South. And that’s just all there is to it. Once again, here’s something I wrote on one of his ventures in Athens. I miss Southern cooking in the worst way.

This was fascinating. While I suppose it’s a bit ignominious to be known as a great lover and less a great intellectual, it’s really not that bad either…

Fun! I can imagine plopping a plate of pancakes with faces down in front of kids would be a good start to the day.

I hope to be able to use this.

Here’s the Carlson talk from the other day. It really was quite entertaining.

After his uplifting speech, Carlson did take time to address questions from the audience on several unrelated issues, including his thoughts on Comedy Central’s Jon Stewart calling him a “d**k” and his personal feelings about likely GOP nominee Mitt Romney.

“Like I didn’t know I was a d**k before that?” he said. “Shocking.”

Of Romney, he said he didn’t know exactly how he felt about the former Massachusetts governor despite the fact that he had covered him as a reporter for years.

“My politics are not Mitt Romney’s politics,” he said, explaining that he is further to the right, or more libertarian, than Romney. “I think he would be preferable to Barack Obama that’s for sure, but so would my kids.

Finally, this is a good. Completely digging Shy Technology. “The Weight of Us Both” is just a cool song.

 

 

 

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I was fortunate to hear Tucker Carlson speak at a lunch thing today and he said something I found profound, mainly because I hadn’t thought of it before (because I think there are none smarter than I am smart. I’m kidding. Swear.) Anyway, he said that social media and new media has not only given us greater insight into what everyone thinks, but almost uncomfortable (my word) insight into what people DO. (You guys know my mantra on geo-location sites.) Where they go, how they spend their time and money, what they invest their interests in. And, according to Carlson, that is invaluable information to politicians. Which is why all of the stories about data collecting and mining are starting to take on a whole other vibe to me. Perhaps it might be time to be a little more cautious about one’s online profile. Mom, you win.

Alright, I have to finish up some actual work before meeting Ash here for a little happy hour where I can FINALLY give her the b-day present I’ve been holding for almost a month. Being a slacker really isn’t that shameful. It just provides an easy excuse to have a martini with a friend. An ace in the back pocket as they say.

So, diversions before I must buckle it down:

This is fun. The aforementioned Ash is a Yankees fan and I’m of course, Braves all the way; there are also many other various and sundry folks who have expressed an interest in some games this summer. Play ball people. I’m submitting your pictures.

I have discovered how I’m going to make it through every flight I ever have to take again. I think I’ll bring a make-up bag and a wig and do Geisha poses…


This was a cool article.
You should always write stuff like this Wired and stay away from politics.

Huge turtles. Seriously, HUGE.

I have them both in my refrigerator and will be testing this theory this weekend.

More genetic excuses. But this is fascinating to me. And it explains a lot. Also, is exactly why it’s ridiculous to get all bunged up if someone disagrees with you.

Heh. A lot of the cohort from the master’s program aspired to work here. So glad I can say that the idea never appealed to me.

Excellent article. And, if there’s some consensus, these are the areas we need to begin to address.

I may have to leave work and travel the few stops up to Reagan National to see and photograph this. I think it’d be a good story to tell kids.

I think I’ve been involved in this conversation before

The quickening art. People are always making me cry at work…

Heh. Heheheheh…..bahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!! Ahem.

Just got invited to this.
Um, seriously, I don’t think there was ever an event better suited to my tastes and I don’t care what that says about me.

Of course, this also suits my tastes

Finally, please note that they are not saying that NASA is wrong here, just that “the science is NOT settled.” I think that’s right.

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“Never give in, never give in, never; never; never; never – in nothing, great or small, large or petty – never give in except to convictions of honor and good sense.” – Winston Churchill (h/t Mr. Rooker)

I’ll be visiting my friend Dan at The Heights after work. Come on by. You’ll love him.

This is amazing. It made me cry. And I suspect I will be returning to it again and again when I need to be reminded that the best way to overcome the bullsh*t the world hands you is simply to overcome it. I like the part about extending the generosity we give to the people we love the most to ourselves.

Easter Sunday was a blast. Best quote from the day came from Strok as we watched UGA grad Bubba Watson bring the pain in Augusta. “Man, I was way too drunk to be wearing a hat.” Love that kid.

For some reason, late last night, I had the incredible urge to re-read A Wrinkle in Time, my favorite book as a misfit 9-year-old. So, I pulled it off the shelf and then remembered a Netflix free version so I decided to watch it instead. It appeared to be some made for TV thing but it did justice to the story that — and most people miss this about this great book — is a perfect Easter story. Read it if you don’t believe me. I really related to Charles Wallace and have this dream of having a piece of artwork hanging in my house called “Tesseract.”

This all comes because I’ve decided to re-read these. I read them years ago but have forgotten them for the most part. There’s a lot going on that has inspired me to read them again. Because I want only good.

The Nerd American and I had a sandwich from the corner deli called “The Washingtonian” featuring horseradish. It was pretty incredible. I like a good sandwich. And then, coincidentally, I came across both this and this today. I think something’s trying to tell me to experiment with sandwiches. And Spring is the time to do it, what with all the fresh vegetables and farmer’s markets and what not.

See, Dupont Circle looks like Savannah. Not as pretty because it’s noticeably lacking in Spanish moss but it’s a nice reminder when I walk down 19th into Dupont.

Also, here are all the babies. All but one are blood relations — Walter, the handsome young blonde chap on the top step, is the son of one of my greatest and oldest friends and is the blood nephew of my younger brother’s wife. I know it gets confusing. He’s blood related to me for all intents and purposes since I’ve known his mom since I was 5. Anyway, I miss them.

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