Superman Returns -- much younger

First, let me just say that watching the trailer for the new Superman movie practically brought a tear to my eye. And, it made me laugh. And, it had just the right amount of acknowledgement of the iconography (one of the things that made me laugh was an "it's a bird, it's a plane" joke). The preview was a total home run, and I have high hopes for the movie.

But …. I think the actors seem too young. You could say this is because I'm getting older. But you could also say so because it's TRUE! Yes, Gillian Anderson was only 24 when she was cast as a relatively experienced doctor/scientist/government agent on "The X-Files." But she had a certain gravitas that Kate Bosworth, 23 now (and 22 at the time the movie was filmed) lacks. Just to put this in perspective, Bosworth taking over the character from Margot Kidder, who was 30 (gasp!) when the first Superman came out in 1978. And that was, I believe, dead right. It doesn't help that the events of the first two Superman movies, which "Superman Returns" takes as its canon/jumping off point, took place five years in the past. Bosworth now, "five years on," looks too young to be Lois (the mother of a school-age-ish son, not to mention star reporter who theoretically went to college and achieved some sort of notable resume).

I've come to terms with the fact that I'm too old to play Lois Lane. Not to mention wrong for the part in other ways. :) But come on!

You don't have to say you love me ... just keep Dusty Springfield close at hand

OK, how sad is it when a love song basically pleads for someone to just be nearby, with no strings, no reciprocation, no nothing. That's the premise of, yes, "You Don't Have to Say You Love Me," a fabulous song by Dusty Springfield.

For anyone who might not know, Dusty Springfield was a soul-pop singer who had some hits in the '60s ("Son of a Preacher Man," "I Only Want to Be With You"), but most importantly, inspired waves of performers to follow in her white-soul footsteps. I listened to her for much of my ride home today, testing my new earphones. Which are great. And which revealed even more layers of feeling.

It's interesting to me how she seems lag the tempo, as if staying on the beat implies a certain control that's just not possible when you're singing such a beautiful but desperate song. "Believe me!" she implores again and again, and I do. I completely do. I believe that she really would try to live under the most painful of conditions just to have her love in her life. And I have to admit, knowing that she was gay (or bi, depending on your interpretation), adds even more to her sentiments for me.

For more on the this, check out this tribute on the After Ellen site: http://www.afterellen.com/People/2005/5/dustyspringfield.html

For the record, I was a fan before I knew she was gay, back when the Pet Shop Boys introduced me to her (that's an extended Dusty cameo on "What Have I Done to Deserve This") back in the '80s. But I have to admit, knowing that she did love women back when it was well nigh impossible for her to have a family like mine, adds to the experience.

(Dusty Springfield died of cancer in 1997, shortly before her induction into the Rock 'n'n Roll Hall of Fame.)

"Butt lock"

Allison Moorer is one of my favorite kinds of performers -- not only can she sing beautifully, but she's a terrific storyteller. I've said before that I'd go see Mary Chapin Carpenter and Shawn Colvin just talk, and Allison might make that list as well.

Anyway, while introducing "Fair Weather," she mentioned how it was written while she was in Barcelona (acknowledging the enviability of having Barcelona as a place to work) with her husband and record producer, Steve Earle. He heard her working on it, and came in the room all excited because "we need a single."

This gave Allison "butt lock." That is, she said, "the technical term for not being able to finish the words." So Steve pitched in on verse two. And it sounds great. So does the whole record for that matter. The recorded versions of the songs, featuring, an entire band and some overdubbed (but not overdone) harmonies, are a much different than the solo acoustic appearance. Much more '60s-ish pop. Really good stuff. Maybe it's just the halo effect of the free CD (and free pizza), but I REALLY like this.

More on Allison Moorer, who did a show AT MY OFFICE!

Well, she didn't perform at my office, in the sense of my workspace, but at my office in the sense of my building. Pretty cool nonetheless. How weird it must have been for this acclaimed singer, who has a new release coming out on a relatively major label (Sugar Hill), to take the quasi-stage in a conference room full of pasty Internet workers (some of whom I think were drawn mostly by the free pizza).

"This is like dinner theater, except it's not dinner," Allison said before launching into her four-song set. She was gracious in the face of a room full of noshers. I didn't feel right eating at the show, so I didn't. But others tore right into their pepperoni and olives and mushrooms, etc.

She sang: "New Year's Day" ("it's gloomy," she apologized, but right for a cloudy day), "Fair Weather" (the first single), "You'll Never Know" (a yearning love song that sounds like a single to me) and "Hallelujah," which was written on a tour bus outside the New Orleans House of Blues, pre-Katrina ("wings are hard to find, but thank God I found mine in time").



I didn't know there would be free pizza, but I was interested to hear Allison, aka Mrs. Steve Earle (he produced her new record, "Getting Somewhere"). She is also the sister of Shelby Lynne, a successful singer who played Johnny Cash's mama in "Walk the Line." The email telling us about this "fishbowl" event (my first as an employee of the Big Internet Retailer henceforth known as BIR) compared her to the Bangles and that other well-known all-girl pop band, so they had me at hello. Or Go-Go, as the case may be.

I love rootsy pop, and Allison delivered. It's not all country stars in the conference room, but this job rocks.

That's Allison Moorer, a country singer you should know ('cause you'd like her music)

From Double Gulp to Xtreme Gulp ....

So I bought a new soda vessel: The Xtreme Gulp. It's bigger than the Double Gulp, but that includes the insulation that enables it to keep beverages cold for six hours (!). For a long, long time I held on to my Double Gulp because it was the biggest, baddest thing going. But I have embraced the XTreme Gulp because it is convenient. And, you know, not small.

Double Gulp: 64 ounces (eminently spillable)
Xtreme Gulp: 52 ounces (not very spillable at all)

It's one thing to spill a Double Gulp in your car. That means you have to sop it up as best you can, turn on the A/C to dehumidify as best you can, buy an air freshener when these things ultimately fall short and endure the snarky comments of your beloved. No problem.

But to spill one on the bus? I spilled on in the presence of the man who used to be my boss' boss' boss. And somehow still managed to get promoted, perhaps because they found me amusing. On the bus, though, that shit don't fly. At least that's my impression. So, I've embraced the Xtreme Gulp, even though it's the equivalent of a can less than its DG counterpart. I can deal with that hardship, but I have learned that life without some kind of very large drink (non-alky, except on cruises) is just a lot less enjoyable.

My new best friend

Pushing it, as ever

So, I've learned that I can be, well ... not quite late for my bus, but I can be late-ish and still catch it. The trick it this: There is a bus stop right outside the Park and Ride where the bus makes its last stop before Seattle.

Therefore, if someone is, say, hypothetically hurrying toward the Park and Ride lot and they see the bus has left the main stop, they still have time to park at the outside end and catch said bus at the outside stop. Not like I've done this for two days running or anything. :)

But I need to be careful. I know myself well enough to know the danger in realizing that I can push a deadline.

"God, I hope that's a raisin."

It wasn't.

You see, what happened was that I stepped on something small and round and brown and sticky. Very raisinish, and our boys tend to spew those all about. But today, Chas spewed something else small and brown and round about while he was wearing training pants.

I thought I picked up all the random turds (which, thankfully, were pretty solid). But no. Had to step in one. Had to have it stick to my foot. Had to clean up with a Clorox wipe.

Thank you, and good night.

First-time dumpster diving

So I decided to pay quick visit to the P-I today. Worked through lunch, got tired in the eyes and foggy in the brain, and thought I'd test my increasing facility with the bus system. And as I walked from the bus stop, I noticed something strange hanging out of an open dumpster across the street.

Please note: This was not a stinky, nasty dumpster. It was a dumpster containing office detritis, and ... wetsuits? Yup. At least 10 wetsuits on hangers and in plastic sheaths. I leaned in for a better look. They were indeed wetsuits. Ironman wetsuits. Yahtzee!

I ran down to the P-I, visited quickly, and corralled my buddy Chris into dumpster diving with me -- dumpster diving for wetsuits. Too bad they only came in sizes small and medium small. And I am size large to extra large. Bummer, man. But Chris took a couple and shared them. I'd probably have taken some too, if I'd not have had to hoof it to the bus stop, and back to the office and back to the bus stop and home.

I did, however, grab a perfectly good sandwich with only one bite taken out of it.

(Do I really have to say that I'm kidding? Suffice it to say, I like to sanitize my hands after just thinking about garbage.)

How can a weekend feel both action-packed and short?

So, this weekend, we went to church twice. One of the times was considerably more enjoyable than the other, but both were necessary. The story, in short, is this: Our church has a partnership with a bunch of other ministries that bears some resemblance to landlord-tenant, but is far more spiritual than businesslike. It was born out of necessity: shrinking congregation, large space. It's a great thing, a success story. But it's different things to different people, and it feels like shifting sands whenever we try to pin down whether or no "theological diversity" means that some ministries are anti-gay.

The questions just keep on coming, wave after wave pounding on this partnership. I want it to survive. But I want to know who I'm dealing with. We got some answers Saturday morning at a gathering that could best be described as raw ... yet valuable and ultimately constructive. It was a good first step. And it was interesting for me to experience conflict in the Christian paradigm. It is somewhat better than agnostic conflict, as people are trying to be their best selves in a way that, say, the players in a dispute over which stories go on the front page of a newspaper are not. (Not that good hearted dispute belongs only to Christians ... and neither should this partnership. But that's another discussion.)

So that was Saturday, until noon. Then came a quick lunch, and a bunch of cleanup and organizing and I don't even remember except that the next thing I knew it was Sunday morning. And it felt healing to be together in church with at least some of the players Saturday, though I've learned since that not all feel healed. I don't know what to do about that, other than what I think is right. Someone said they described me as "authentic" the other day, and I took it as a big time compliment, the more I thought about it. I want to continue to earn that. Not that I'm not smug and self-righteous and goofy. But I want to be authentic about it. :)

P.S. That cute baby in the picture of the preceding post is Raelee, my niece. Whose name I'm probably spelling wrong. She's about 6 months old and Cheryl and I are charmed by how many toys she has. Not like our kids have a lot of toys. Funny how one's perspective shifts.

Somewhere, there's a cute baby in there ....

An awesome achievement (not my own)

Usually, it's all about me. My thoughts, my dreams, my clever takes on the world. Blah, blah, blah.

I need to take a timeout from that to applaud my dear Cheryl, who fixed our van CD player, which had unfortunately become the boys' coin purse. This happened once before and we took it to the dealership for warranty service. And got a stern lecture. So we couldn't take it back for free repair again .... But Cheryl dug about online, past the place that tried to charge $5 for the instructions on removing the CD player, found them for free, and did her thing. This involved displacing the entire front dash, unplugging and replugging God knows what, taking out coin after coin after coin after stinkin' coin .... And then, miracle of miracles, the CD player worked once she returned it to its rightful place. All hail Cheryl!

Actually, it is a credit to me that I have latched on to such a wonderful partner. It IS all about me! :)

Two straight days of techno/info breakthroughs ... my eyes hurt, my brain's swollen and I'm psyched!

So I won't bore you with the details of the work stuff, but suffice it to say I use a couple of sophisticated yet occasionally buggy, fabulously powerful yet at times incomprehensible computer programs. And I'm finally starting to understand them! Sort of! Got some legal training (seriously), got a "helper" program going, talked to a friend who works here and has bent these tools to her will, etc. Good times.

I'm also learning about stock grants, investments, my employee discount, marketing to gays and lesbians (beyond saying, "Hey, honey, buy that"). And I got a report on my final paycheck, including money for unused vacation. The actual dollars will be in the bank tomorrow, and no doubt gone soon for the great good of fence making, etc., but it's fun to feel flush.

Oh, and did I mention that I figured out how to get my Palm to use my cell phone as a modem for Web surfing? This is exciting yet pathetic. It's exciting because I've done it. It's pathetic because I have owned both things for at least three years and it's taken me this long to actually make it happen. And, as it often goes, my haste and theoretical quickness led to a process that was actually much longer than it had to be. (Not unlike when I ended up returning some stuff to Costco so that I could re-buy it with the coupons I forgot to use at checkout the day before ... but I digress).

Anyway, if you must ever make your phone connect your device (PDA, computer, whatever) to the internet, and you're a TMobile customer, go here: http://us.t-mobile.mywds.com/

This will take you to something called, I kid you not, their "Configurator." That just seems like a syllable or two too many, but what do I know? From the site:

"What does the Configurator Do?
The Configurator provides guidance on connecting your favorite PDA or laptop with phones that are compatible with our new T-Mobile Internet high-speed wireless data network as well as those supporting our existing, dial-up data service. But remember, you must subscribe to T-Mobile's data services before you can begin using your mobile data solution. "

OK. There's probably more, but all this feeling mighty is taking its toll. I'm going to take a walk.

2 for 1 deal at Costco ... and pizza, too!

am/pm debit charge bastards!

My hunt for a decent supplier of my drug of choice -- fountain pop, preferably Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper, in 64 ounce sized containers -- continues. Today, it took the form of a too-long walk to the nearest am/pm minimarket, which is also the nearest convenience store that offers something other than Diet Pepsi via fountain.

At first I was pleased. The am/pm offered Diet Dr. Pepper, in a lovely reusable 64 ounce cup. But when the time came to pay, well, I discovered that the rat bastards charge 45 cents for debit card transactions. And they don't take credit cards. And I didn't have my purse with me, so I didn't have any cash handy. It was a hot day, and I was thirsty, so I paid. Resentfully. I am ameliorated slightly by the fact that I got a bedskirt for $1 (seriously) at the Pacific Coast Feather Outlet Store.

It's going to be interesting to see how my soda options develop. I'm not sure am/pm will figure into the equation much, but it was a learning experience. That's what I tell myself to make the 45 cents seem less wasted.

Cube, sweet cube ... view 2 features artwork from the boys (on canvas no less) and Storm bobbleheads

Cube, sweet cube -- view 1 includes my computer, pix of my family, etc.

Desk, sweet (former) desk, at the P-I (those bright spots are views of the Elliott Bay) ....

Oprah comes out as straight (again), Jodie Foster raps and the world reacts to Rosie's daytime comeback plans

Why does Oprah keep saying she's not gay? Didn't she cover this almost 10 (!) years ago when she appeared on Ellen's "Puppy Episode"? And Lord knows when else ... Anyway, here's a "Money Quote" from Rush & Molloy via Salon.com: Oprah Winfrey apparently addressed rumors about her and "close friend" Gayle King at a recent part for a satellite radio venture: "You know, there are all these rumors about us being gay. We are not gay. If I was gay, I would tell you." I hope that's true, O. I hope that's true. I can tell you from personal experience that falling for your best female friend rocks (unless you kind of, sort of do it in college before you really even have any conscious idea or acknowledgement that you're gay ... but Oprah, you are waaay beyond that).

I don't remember who gave the speech at my college graduation (WSU, class of '89). I mostly remember boredom punctuated by picture posing and hugs. I know Jodie Foster did NOT speak, and if anyone did (I'm sure someone did), they did NOT quote anything resembling popular music. Jodie, however, while speaking to the University of Pennsylvania on Monday, did just that. She ended her speech with her own sort of "rap," more of a poetic spoken word thing, from Eminem's "Lose Yourself." Here's where to hear it:

http://salonmedia.vo.llnwd.net/o1/mp3s/2006/may/foster.mp3

(It's not as lame as it may sound.)

And finally, the lesbian world waits breathlessly for the return of Rosie. The bold prediction is "smackdown city," though I think Rosie will be perhaps more tempered than this:

"On the political level, we'll see showdowns on The View between Rosie the no-nonsense liberal and Elisabeth Hasselbeck the GWB-loving conservative. With Rosie on board, former Survivor contestant Hasselbeck is going to have to contend not only with the liberal opinions of O'Donnell, but also with Rosie's lesbian views, especially her views on gay and lesbian rights and parenting. It's going to get ugly in the way that blue vs. red arguments do. Hasselbeck might discover that she prefers the outback to the out-Rosie.
Ellen? She avoids politics. To her, discussing the country's poli-cultural wars is apparently as enticing as Chlamydia."

For more on the lesbian agenda, check out afterellen.com.

Yes, those are brake lights ... but the bus keeps rolling on. I LOVE MY NEW COMMUTE!

I've been remiss ...

So, I'm solidly into Week 2 at Big Internet Retailer, which will be known as BIR. I kind of know what I'm doing, though I remain frustrated by the tools I'm in the process of learning. My cubicle neighbor assures me that my relationship with these tools will quickly progress "from terror to tedium." I am looking forward to the tedium. Have progressed slightly away from terror, but it's still close by.

I still like my work. I'm now starting to settle into my routine more fully, though my a.m. routine still lacks Double Gulps. This works out well for the whole "dozing on the bus" thing, but when I get to the office, I am parched. Having a little, teeny "normal" sized can of pop (brought from home on the bus, I might add) just doesn't seem to do it. And while I could buy (ick) Diet Pepsi in bottles for only $1 each, getting up to my usual quantity would put my pop bill at about $5 a day. No thanks.

So I'm drinking a lot of hot tea, which is fine. And water, which is very, very good for me. (Yes, I do know that.) And I'm working through the pop thing.

Lunch-wise, things are more promising. Uwajimaya, with its baby squid and other delights, is just across the street. But I need to appreciate that sparingly. The price isn't wrong ($6 and change without a soda, $8 and change with). But I don't want to either spend too much, or get sick of it. So, I think what I'm going to do is bring in a big bag of Trader Joes every week, early in the week, and boom: I'm good.

Too nutty to be anything but true .... Scientology Dept.

http://www.sptimes.com/2006/05/06/Tampabay/Scientology_nearly_re.shtml/

You can click above if you like. But I'm going to share pretty much the whole thing. Really, how can anyone swallow this crap?



Scientology nearly ready to unveil Super Power
In the works for decades, the closely guarded spiritual training program will be revealed in Clearwater.

By ROBERT FARLEY, Times Staff Writer
Published May 6, 2006

CLEARWATER - Matt Feshbach believes he has super powers. He senses danger faster than most people. He appreciates beauty more deeply than he used to. He says he outperforms his peers in the money management industry.
He heightened his powers of perception in 1995 when he went to Los Angeles and became the first and so far only "public" Scientologist to take a highly classified Scientology program called Super Power.
Where in L.A. did he do this?
"Just in Los Angeles," is all Feshbach will say. Super Power is that secret.
Under wraps for decades, Super Power now is being prepped for its eventual rollout in Scientology's massive building in downtown Clearwater. That will be the only place worldwide where the program, much anticipated by Scientologists, will be offered.
A key aim of Super Power is to enhance one's perceptions - and not just the five senses we all know - hearing, sight, touch, taste and smell.
Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard taught that people have 57 "perceptics." They include an ability to discern relative sizes, blood circulation, balance, compass direction, temperature, gravity and an "awareness of importance, unimportance."
Church officials won't discuss specifics of Super Power. But Feshbach and another prominent Clearwater Scientologist who, like Feshbach, is a major donor to Super Power's building fund, provided some details in interviews with the St. Petersburg Times. A group of former Scientologists who worked for the church on a campus in California where the program was in development also described elements of it.
Super Power uses machines, apparatus and specially designed rooms to exercise and enhance a person's so-called perceptics. Those machines include an antigravity simulator and a gyroscope-like apparatus that spins a person around while blindfolded to improve perception of compass direction, said the former Scientologists.
A video screen that moves forward and backward while flashing images is used to hone a viewer's ability to identify subliminal messages, they said.
Hubbard promised Super Power would improve perceptions and "put the person into a new realm of ability." He believed it would unlock abilities needed to spread Scientology across the planet.
For Feshbach it's like nothing he has ever done in Scientology.
"I got it. I loved it," he gushed.
Feshbach, 52, and his two brothers became famous in investment circles during the 1980s as the kings of short selling stocks - essentially betting which stocks will tank. At one point, the California-based Feshbach Bros. managed $1-billion for clients.
Feshbach now lives in Belleair, where his wife, Kathy, runs a Scientology mission. Because he donated millions to the Super Power building fund, he was invited to undergo the program.
It's geared toward creating a "more competent spiritual being," he said. "I'm not dependant on my physical body to perceive things."
He offered this anecdote:
He had just finished his perceptics training and was at the Los Angeles airport, preparing to fly home to the Tampa Bay area. He stood at a crosswalk with perhaps 20 others, including a woman and her son, an antsy boy 6 or 7 years old.
As the light turned green, the boy bolted into the street, ahead of his mother. Feshbach perceived a pickup bearing down on the boy, driven by a young woman.
He yelled and saved the boy's life by a quarter of an inch, he said.
Coincidence? Feshbach doesn't think so. No one else saw the pickup, he says. He believes that, through the Super Power program, he elevated his perceptive abilities beyond those of the others at that crosswalk. His enhanced perceptions have played out numerous times since, he said.
Super Power takes "weeks, not months" to complete, said Feshbach. He would not discuss the specific machines and drills that former Scientologists said are used to enhance perceptions.
The perceptics portion of Super Power is one of 12 "rundowns" in the full program, Feshbach said. But it clearly is a key aspect.
Details of Super Power training have been kept secret even from church members. Like much of Scientology training, details aren't revealed until one pays to take the course.
Asked about Super Power, church spokesman Ben Shaw provided a written statement: "Super Power is a series of spiritual counseling processes designed to give a person back his own viewpoint, increase his perception, exercise his power of choice, and greatly enhance other spiritual abilities."
Shaw would not say how much the program will cost. Upper levels of Scientology training can run tens of thousands of dollars.
He declined to provide further insight into Super Power. "It's not something I'm willing to provide to you in any manner," Shaw said.
Scientologist Ron Pollack, who donated $5-million to the Super Power fund after making millions in hedge funds in the 1990s, said he got a sneak peek. The head of fundraising for the project showed him a photo of "some high-tech thing" developed by engineers in Southern California that offers different aromas on demand. It's for a drill to enhance one's sense of smell, he said.
Pollack said he has no idea how Super Power will be set up, but is excited about the parts on ethics and perceptics, which he likened to a "trip to Disney."
Former Scientologists Bruce Hines and Chuck Beatty, once staffers at the church's international base in Hemet, Calif., said that while on punishment detail, they made chairs of various sizes - ones big enough for a giant, others too small even for a child - that were set up in a room designed to hone one's sense of relative sizes.
Hines also said the Super Power program, which Hubbard wanted rolled out in 1978, met with delays during the 20-plus years that it was being piloted on church staffers.
One setback occurred when the church checked back on the staffers who had been through Super Power. It turned out, Hines said, many had left the church - hardly the expected outcome.
"The fact that it was around in 1978 and it's still not worked out 28 years later, that's pretty significant," Hines said.
Hines, who said he once performed Scientology's core practice of auditing on celebrity Scientologists Kirstie Allie, Anne Archer and Nicole Kidman (she no longer is a Scientologist), worked at the California facility until 1993 and left the church staff in 2003. He and other ex-Scientology staffers are convinced that church brass delayed completion of the big building in Clearwater because the Super Power program was not finished. The exterior was completed three years ago, then construction stopped.
"The building was getting done faster than the tech program itself," said Karen Pressley, a former church staffer at the same California campus, who left the church in 1998.
"This is a flap of magnitude in Scientology management," Pressley said.
Shaw said those ex-members are just wrong.
"These people know absolutely nothing" about the Super Power pilot, he said.
Scientology processes are technical and cannot be understood out of context, Shaw said. "If someone is interested in Scientology, they should read a book and find out for themselves what Scientology is and thus begin their own spiritual journey," Shaw said.
Super Power is ready, he said, and 300 staff members are being trained to deliver it.
Construction delays in Clearwater, Shaw said, are due to a recent explosion of church expansion worldwide. The church has spent hundreds of millions to purchase and renovate properties. Last year, it purchased nearly 1-million square feet of buildings in 18 cities around the world.
That expansion, by far the largest in church history, diverted the church's attention, he said. Plus, he said, Scientology leaders have been compelled to redesign the building's interior repeatedly to make it a crown jewel.
The Super Power program will be ready to go the moment the new building is completed, he said. Scientology officials promise that will be 2007.
Scientology's 57 senses
Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard's list of 57 perceptics. Words in parentheses are his:
Timen Sight
Tasten Colorn Depth
Solidity (barriers)
Relative sizes (external)
Sound
Pitch
Tone
Volume
Rhythm
Smell
Touch (pressure, friction, heat or cold and oiliness)
Personal emotion
Endocrine states
Awareness of awareness
Personal size
Organic sensation (including hunger)
Heartbeat
Blood circulation
Cellular and bacterial position
Gravitic (self and other weights)
Motion of self
Motion (exterior)
Body position
Joint position
Internal temperature
External temperature
Balance
Muscular tension
Saline content of self (body)
Fields/magnetic
Time track motion
Physical energy (personal weariness, etc.)
Self-determinism
Moisture (self)
Sound direction
Emotional state of other organs
Personal position on the tone scale*
Affinity (self and others)
Communication (self and others)
Reality (self and others)
Emotional state of groups
Compass direction
Level of consciousness
Pain
Perception of conclusions (past and present)
Perception of computation (past and present)
Perception of imagination (past and present)
Perception of having perceived (past and present)
Awareness of not knowing
Awareness of importance, unimportance
Awareness of others
Awareness of location and placement (masses, spaces and location itself)
Perception of appetite
Kinesthesia
*Scientology's tone scale, as defined in The Scientology Handbook: A scale which shows the successive emotional tones a person can experience.Source: Scientology 0-8, The Book of Basics, by L. Ron Hubbard.

Getting from Point A to Point B (after a few minor detours)

I thought I would be a train rider, merrily hopping on at my station and arriving literally across the street from my office. But after a couple of days, I've taken the train exactly zero times. This can be blamed on a number of factors, not the least of which is my ... um ... punctuality problem.

You see, trains don't give a crap if you're only 3 minutes late. They leave anyway. They don't care if you were in the vicinity of the parking lot, but not quite parked. They roll.

The good news for me is that buses are actually very cool, as long as you don't accidentally get on to the 174 instead of the 177. Both get you to downtown Seattle from Federal Way, but one of them takes about an hour longer and has much smellier passengers. Not that it isn't fun to stop every 10 feet along Pac Highway ...

I just thank the good lord above that I have a patient partner. Let's just say that getting to work and home involved numerous phone calls and her willing slog through the Metro site. I tried to be amused by my ignorance of public transportation, but when it came time to get home, and I couldn't figure out where the damn bus stop was for a while, I may have been a bit snappish. Sorry, sweetie.

My office view (OK, maybe it's the lunchroom view at the Big Internet Retailer headquarters)

Mmmm ... baby squid and brown rice for lunch. Working by the International District is fun!

New gig, Day 1

Actually, it's Day 3, which tells you how things have been going. I've had a lot to take in, and still do. I'm going to shamelessly crib from the update email I sent some work friends:

The culture at Amazon, where of course I haven't officially started yet because, you know, I'm still on the books at the P-I, is interesting. Focused. Lots of boys everywhere, and as on interview day, I'm one of the best dressed people around. I work across the street from Uwajimaya, which is great, though it could get expensive. I had baby squid for lunch yesterday. Actually several of them. You can see a picture on my blog, tentacles and all, still attached to round, delicious baby squid bodies. I work at US1 (Union Station 1). The view is a step down, especially from my cube, where I see Tim Appelo's back, and a window that is either shaded or open to the hill behind PacMed, the hospital turned Amazon headquarters. Got some training there from some very perky people. They LOVE Amazon.

My job is, well, so far it involves desperately trying to look like I understand when some brilliant engineer type starts spouting tech talk about the proprietary site scheduling system. I'm getting some more training in that today. More pursing of lips and nodding "knowingly." Wish I could tell you more specifically about the thing I'm working on. Can't. It's a little bit of a moving target anyway, but you'll see it soon.

I work with a bunch of guys. They're nice. Mostly young. Very smart. They make D&D jokes sometimes. Sometimes I think of them as my frat brothers, in a Revenge of the Nerds way. It's a very different vibe than the P-I, but I like it so far.


Friends asking about jobs: 3

Friends asking about potential boyfriends: 1

The new me -- badged by the Big Internet Retailer

Our little performers consider the pulpit a stage (this is after church)

"I goin' to work at the newspaper"

So, we're at the toy store with the boys, picking out birthday presents for their cousin, and on the way out they stop to play in the irresistible (and laughably, allegedly off-limits) demo play sets, play houses, etc. outside the toy store. They climb and crawl and mostly mess around in the houses as opposed to the plastic "climbing walls," so we aren't too worried about the likelihood that these were assembled by uninterested stoners in the back.

Anyway, Eddie comes out of the house, albeit reluctantly, because it is time to go. In his mind, it's time to go to work, though it's really time to go to the nearby Outback Steakhouse. He says "I goin' to work at the newspaper." And then he wiggles his fingers and moves his hands, as if he is ... what? Could he really be mimicking typing? Wow. I am touched. He has just been to the newspaper the day before. My last day there.

So I tell him, "Mama's going to work at Amazon. Do you want to work there?" He glances dismissively my way, as if to convey that I can do what I want. Then he says, again, "I goin' to the newspaper." Sigh.

I need to work on my list ...

So I'm reading "No Opportunity Wasted," and realizing that I don't have my life list of things to do. Oh, don't get me wrong: I've got a lot of lists. They include things like folding laundry, balancing the checkbook, getting the boys to sleep, eating sugar free ice cream sandwiches, watching "My Name Is Earl" and important things like that.

But what I lack, Phil Keoghan would say, is a life list populated with things like climbing Mount Everest (that's on his list) or learning a language (for real, not like when I muddled through a year of Spanish in college). After reading that Eddie Vedder told Rolling Stone that "surfing is like no other thing except music and holding your newborn," I may put surfing on the list.

I've done music, sort of. Though I never really fronted that rock band, I did get to sing in Lincoln Center with the WSU Concert Choir (no shit!). And I've held two newborns, and that's maybe the best thing ever.

But what else is there for me? I don't ask that hopelessly: I know there's lotsa stuff. Hell, I've already done a lot of cool stuff. But what's next?

Why D. Parvaz is my hero

Columnists can be a little frightening to editors. Especially good ones, because they tend to have, you know, opinions ... and man, that can really get on readers' nerves.

And I'm sure this latest column by D. Parvaz will annoy people. As far as I'm concerned, that's a big part of her charm. She and I didn't always get along. You know, it's that opinion thing. She had lots of them, and preferred them to mine. Aggressively. But under all that, I eventually came to appreciate, was profound respect on both sides. We just had to earn it with each other a little.

Anyway, D. has a weekly column for the Seattle P-I. Ostensibly, it's about pop culture, which to me is the kind of rocket fuel that has propelled Entertainment Weekly and Us into the stratosphere. For her, however, politics is cultural. This is the start of her most recent one, about Stephen Colbert, the comedian/commentator currently riding out a backlash for his brave and incisive remarks at the latest White House press dinner/confab thingy:

Complacency isn't a modern disease, and it's not unique to Americans.
We have perfected it, however. We are -- to speak in broad terms -- docile, doughy and incapable of effecting large-scale change from the ground up. We're a nation of centrist shruggers, letting those few on either end of the political scale run the show.
Which is why this week, Stephen Colbert is my hero.

For the rest, click here:

http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/poppingoff/269205_popping06.html

You will laugh, I promise. And maybe think a little too.

D is anything but docile her own self. If she were, I'd be less of an editor. And she wouldn't be a columnist.

My yesterdays are all boxed up ...

That's the first line from "Always on Your Side," that new Sheryl Crow/Sting duet. It's been running through my head for days, but I'm almost afraid to listen to it. I have this dull throb behind my eyes, and I think it's a wave of tears pushing toward my eyes. But I didn't cry when I said goodbye to my P-I family today.

I told Cheryl that it was just too much, you know? Like I was too sad to cry enough to adequately express my feelings (without drowning). And yet I'm excited about the opportunities that await. All the reasons I chose Amazon over the P-I escape me right now, but that's because I just spent the day with the biggest reason to stay put: My favorite people. There are a lot of genuine, talented, smart, kind and funny folks I'm walking out on. One of them called me an "abandoner" -- as opposed to a "traitor," which is what I would have been if I'd gone to the Seattle Times (as if!).

Now comes three crazy days. Preschool tryouts, asthma walk, nephew's birthday, school fundraiser for friends. And that's all before Sunday. I'm going to try to clear my head. This is good news for the house, 'cause I like to do laundry while I think. I'm looking forward to the new gig. But right now I'm just missing the hell out of the old one.

I'm just glad this isn't MY floor ... but Cathy and Larry will love it when it's done