Ahhhh....

And so moving weekend has come and gone. Yeah, my laziness has mostly kept it off my blog, but Katy and I moved this past Saturday into a new apartment. We'll have plenty of pictures before too long, but for now it looks the same as anyone else's newly-occupied pad: boxes upon boxes, balanced on stacks of stuff. Our new place is really fantastic... it has rooms! That may not seem like alot, but when Katy first moved in with me in Ottawa, we shared a 250 sqft one-room apartment and our last place was a 700 sqft studio concept (which means it was basically one big room). We're moving up in the world! We have doors! I was able to get up this morning and turn on lights and make moise without waking Katy! So many exclamation points! So much joy! Anyway, more to follow later, but things are well and we are enjoying moving into our new space. Hope you all have a happy day.

Eulogy to the Airwaves

Today is the day the TV stations across the US disconnect their analog signal for the last time, switching their broadcasts entirely to a digital signal. Today marks the end of one technological era and the beginning of another. I have grown so accustomed to technological advancements happening every day that I don't often pause anymore to think about what is passing. Sure, it's been a long time since anyone has seen a UHF/VHF knob on a TV, but who would have thought we'd see a day when television signals are no longer broadcast over the air? No longer must our coat hangers live in fear of being dismanteled and repurposed for entertainment value.

Fare thee well, beloved rabbit ears... you will be remembered fondly.

Two robots and a flower

These are my robots...

This is Big Bertha...

...and this is Large Marge.

This is Katy. She's not a robot. I think.


Do any of you botanical aficionados out there recognize that flower? (Mary K.?) It grows in our neighborhood and as much as Katy loves it, she can't figure out what it is. Bonus points for growing conditions and care instructions.

The funniest thing happened last night...

Yesterday evening I went for a harmonica walk in my neighborhood, much like any other night. As I made my way down one of the back alleys I heard footsteps behind me and turned to find a woman running to catch up with me from a couple of houses back. She introduced herself as Julie and said, "Hi, I've heard you playing a couple of times before and you sound great and all and I'm having a party in my back yard..." [at this point, it seemed as though the next line was going to be, "...so could you stop?" but in fact...] "...and I was wondering if you'd like to come play a couple of songs for the party?" [Whaaaa?] My response, "Didn't see that one coming!" So I semi-reluctantly followed her into her back yard as I explained that I'd never really played in front of people before (Ok, that's a lie but an open mic and someone's family in their backyard are two different things) and she explained that I sounded good and they would all enjoy hearing a song or two anyway. She won me over by saying they had cake. I like cake.

So I walk into this backyard to find a dozen-plus members of her family sitting around a table filled with tea and desserts. Two of the ladies said that several people in their family play harmonica and that I played well (a compliment from afficianados!) and they all asked for a song. Well, I warned them that I could only try my best and invited them to talk amongst themselves. I put on my sunglasses and pulled my hat down low and began playing "Oh, Shenandoah." To my surprise, a few of them (emphasis on the older crowd) knew the song and began singing along. I played a medely of a couple of songs and a little freeform jamming and they dutifully talked amongst themselves. It was an awesome feeling playing for a group of people who asked to hear me, instead of playing for people who are forced into listening by way of proximity. I finished my first song and we talked for a few minutes. They asked if I wanted cake or tea, but quickly realized that I couldn't play while chewing so they offere me a plate of desserts to take home in exchange for one more song. Deal! Julie (the lady who invited me in) requested something "bluesy" like she had heard me play in the alley before. I left my glasses off for this one but shut my eyes and began playing "Oh, Sweet Jesus." They loved it. One lady went inside and grabbed two spoons and came back out playing the spoons against her leg. I let her become the rhythm and played with her. That surprised and pleased them. I played until my mouth was too dry to go on and received quite a boisterous applause at the end.

They packed up my plate of desserts and I left them with a fond farewell and a heartfelt thanks for their kindness. They were such nice people and it was a pleasure and honor to play for them. I took my cake and disappeared down the alley with a song. When I got home I handed Katy the plate and said, "Baby, let me tell you the story of how I got you cake..."

The Case Against Shell

I found the following video on Digg.com today and thought it an interesting enough story to pass along. It seems that Shell Oil is being brought to trial for human rights abuses in Nigeria. You can read an accompanying story here on Alternet.org.

Don't think I'll be buying any gas from Shell anymore.

Happy Memorial Day

I miss being a soldier.
I miss marching.
I miss PT.
I miss belonging.
I miss the uniform.
I miss serving.
I miss the adventure.
I miss the discipline.
I miss the toys.
Mostly, I miss the guys.

I often find it hard these days to be proud that I was a soldier because I got out just as we went to war. It's like I was only a practice soldier. I find it hard to identify myself with these boys who have been in harm's way for so long now because they are fighting and I didn't. I go back and forth between feeling like I missed out and feeling like I lucked out.

But I never forget to thank our boys every time I see them on the news or read about them in the paper. I never forget what these guys are sacrificing. I never forget how much each and every one of those men and women in our armed forces loves their country.

There are no greater American patriots than those who step forward and say, "Send me." To them I am forever grateful, no matter the politics behind their deployment. To my brothers and sisters in the armed forces, past and present, I say thank you for your selflessness. Thank you for your service. Thank you for your courage.