Metroknow

When you have nothing to say

2008-12-13T22:31:00.000-08:00

For the record, I am forcing myself to write this entry.

It's a peculiar experience for me, normally so full of ideas (one of my biggest personal weaknesses actually - too many ideas), usually brimming with more things to create than I can possibly do in two lifetimes, but over the last month I've had a significant internal disconnect going on. In fact, even now, I'm coming up short with anything meaningful to write about.

If there's one thing I learned from Public School however, it is this: If you have no new ideas, just discuss history under the guise of learning to avoid the mistakes of the past. It's a time waster, but maybe it will shock the senses - my dulled writing senses, that is.

A look at history - Metroknow-style

Two years ago, nearly to the day, we were stuck in a snow and ice storm in Seattle. We were "homeless," meaning between homes - our home in Southern California had sold, and we were on the hunt for a new home in the Portland area. We were in Seattle staying with my parents and making excursions down to PDX.

It was also sometime right around this time of year that we discovered our house here, the one that we eventually settled into.

Two years and one new child later, I am writing this on the eve of another snow storm, waiting for December's Arctic blast to roll in and freeze the hill at the middle school so that I can take my son sledding.

I am going to stop here, press "publish post" - and see if I can't force myself to get interested. In anything.

Awakening from the slumber, slowly

2008-06-21T20:55:00.000-07:00

Metroknow, the site, has been dormant.

Time to wake up.

A lot has changed in the last couple of months, mostly for the better. For one thing, we are finally out of the winter/spring gloom and into the glorious summer - and this year it was indeed a long time in coming. Jonah is out of school for the summer, although he does have a few weeks of school time later in their summer program.

Rima is nearly running these days, and loves being chased, playing with her brother, and eating just about anything she can pick up and stick in her mouth before we can get to her.

If I may pause for a moment, I must say.....WOW I am rusty at this whole Metroknow blog thing.

As for me, some big changes. I quit my job after much deliberation, and although there is a tremendous sense of relief on many levels, I'm also feeling the pressure of really making my personal projects grow some legs. My biggest project of course is Almost Fit, which is going great, but it hasn't hit it's stride yet. I am still struggling to find a consistent voice there, as well as the continuous search for broadening the audience. I have a couple of other projects planned, but first and foremost we're going to be taking a much needed family vacation. With fuel prices and with me, well, essentially taking the summer off, we are going to keep costs down this year and camp at Umpqua's Last Resort in Southern Oregon.

April is well - We spent much of today reclaiming the garage space as her studio, which is a step in the right direction. It had devolved into our giant Junk Drawer, obstructing her easel, and generally wearing a hole in our consciousness. We fixed that today, with more repairs on the way.

As lame as this post is, I'm going to stop there, hit Submit, and call it good. I will be breathing life back into Metroknow over the coming months, so if you are inclined, stop by and say hello.

More soon.

Short Film: A Thousand Words

2008-04-04T21:26:00.001-07:00

Excellent short - well worth watching.

Miraculous Weight Loss Compound Found in Arctic Thaw

2008-04-01T10:49:00.000-07:00

Anchorage, AK - A newly discovered plant that has been unearthed in the Arctic is proving to be the most effective natural weight loss compound found to date, with no known side effects. Global warming may be having an unexpected benefit: incredibly rapid weight loss, completely naturally.

In a press release issued by the Scott Polar Research Institute at the University of Cambridge, researchers at the North pole have discovered a plant compound that apparently kept dinosaurs lean, and may explain the genetic mystery of the dietary habits of Eskimo cultures who have historically eaten incredibly high levels of saturated fats with little or no negative effects on weight and cholesterol. The new compound is derived from what researchers have named Lactuca Shackliola, or, “Shackleaf lettuce” (pictured).
“We pulled up the core sample, and there it was, stuck to the outside of the coring rod,” Sylette Rivermorelandstein points out, holding a photo of a purplish wilted leaf stuck to a metal rod.

“Most of our samples pull up a lot of silt and occasionally plant matter, but nothing like this. Its a direct result of global thermal incubation,” she said. “For some reason, I just had to taste it. And it was quite good!”

The next morning, Rivermorelandstein stepped into her orange thermal suit, and something felt different. She cinched her belt down, and to her surprise, it was loose. Very, loose.

“The only thing I noticed beyond the suit fitting differently was that I had an odd taste in my mouth, sort of metallic, or like the taste of a dentist’s mirror. I didn’t think much about it really, but the suit was a little odd. I thought I had put someone else’s on.”

In passing, Rivermorelandstein mentioned this oddity to the resident medical technician, who was also curious. After weighing her, the technician noted that Sylette was significantly lighter than she was the previous day, when she had been weighed to evaluate whether she could safely walk on the ice at the coring site. Rivermorelandstein had lost 7lbs in her sleep. That after having eaten a dinner of a large reheated Pizza Hut Deep Dish Meat Lover’s pizza, a 2-liter bottle of Coke, Stouffer’s lean cuisine lasagna and a South Beach Fudge bar.

“Up here in the higher latitudes, you can really pack away a lot more at mealtime. Plus the extra cushion keeps ya warmer,” Ron Steadlefield, Ph.D., the head researcher and medical assistant for the team said. “But you’ve really gotta avoid the Shackleaf - the stuff just melts the pounds right off. And that equals lower body temperature, which can be lethal in the environments we’re confined to.” Steadlefield has also lost a significant amount of weight eating Shackleaf.

After a few hours of digging driven by curiosity and a six pack of Pete’s Wicked Summer Brew Beer, they unearthed a large stash of leaves, which photos show look surprisingly similar to dark green version of traditional Romaine. After taking samples that were prepared for temperature-controlled transport back to the research facility at Cambridge, the researchers did something unusual - they decided to try it again, in a salad, to see if they could replicate the results that Rivermorelandstein had experienced.

By the next morning, they had lost collectively 54.8 lbs among a team of 8.

At the lab at Cambridge, further analysis including radiocarbon dating revealed that the samples are roughly 175,000 years old, preserved completely intact by the frozen tundra. In recent years, scientists have seen this substance before, but struggled to explain it’s origin. The plant matter was discovered in the stomachs of thawed pre-historic polar predators, and has genetic similarities to an unusual DNA chain recently identified among native tribes of the North. The difference is no one ever thought to taste these compounds, and then step on the scale the next day.

“We hypothesized that the coexistence of the DNA and the existence of a similar compound in the stomachs of mammoths was because, well, mammoths probably consumed a few hominids here and there,” said Steadlefield.

“This really changes everything,” Fergal Luellen, Ph.D., the Director of Research for the institute’s Polar studies program remarked. “We have done every test known to man on the samples that we collect. We simply never thought of putting them in a salad.”

The researchers were also able to retrieve seed pods and have successfully grown the species under controlled conditions using grow lights. Some students were reportedly growing samples in their closets. The lab-tested samples of the new growth show that the potency of the leaves has not diminished.

The potential uses for the leaf are tremendous from a medical perspective, and it means a possible revolution in the diet and weight loss industry. The university is compiling a list of requests for retail distribution, including Whole Foods Markets. Marketed under its given name of Shackleaf lettuce, the new weight loss miracle leaf may be available in higher end food emporiums in the United States in late 2008. The European Union is waiting for further analysis, and to essentially wait and see what happens in the American Market.

“I’d eat it - yeah absolutely!” Marla Schriver, a tollbooth operator in New Jersey and a lifelong dieter said. “I mean, if dinosaurs coulda’ eaten it and lost weight, heck I’m getting up there in years too - I could eat some dinodiet food. Sure whatever, why not, ya know? I mean, are you kidding me?”

The FDA is already beginning trials of the plant, and expects to yield a definitive answer in the fall.

This article was originally posted on my alter-ego, AlmostFit.com.

AlmostFit.com is now listed on Alltop!

2008-03-16T01:19:00.000-07:00

AlmostFit is a relatively new project for me, but it seems to be doing really well thanks to places like this one (IowaAvenue.com) on the Web. I was particularly excited this evening because I got an email from Guy Kawasaki himself today letting me know that AlmostFit has been accepted to the list of sites on his new venture, Alltop. AlmostFit is listed under the Health section.

If you are not familiar with Guy (or why this would be important to me), he is one of the original Apple guys, and has done a bunch of amazing projects since then, inspired thousands of people, and helped an equal number to reach for their goals. His blog is also really excellent, particularly if you want to feed that little inner geek hiding and typing in the dark recesses of your mind. For me, the geek suit is on the outside.

Here's a description of Alltop from Guy's blog:

"A good metaphor is that Alltop is an "online magazine rack" that displays the news from the top publications and blogs. Our goal is to satisfy the information needs of the 99% of Internet users who will never use an RSS feed reader or create a custom page. Think of it as "aggregation without the aggravation.” The easiest way to understand the value of Alltop is to try it [...]"

The best part for me is it is listed alongside some really big mainstream health sites like WebMD, CNN Health, and so forth, so it could mean some really good exposure. At any rate, I'm really excited about it, and realized that I needed to do a little tweaking on the site to improve the presentation.

If you have a spare minute or two, would you mind taking a look at the new header image and such of AlmostFit and give me your thoughts? Does it seem OK? Does it feel too, I dunno...Fancy? Thoughts? Suggestions?

Emerging, but still under water

2008-03-13T14:58:00.000-07:00

I've been pretty quiet on this site for the last few weeks - primarily because the demands on my time by my day job have been through the roof. I've been working 7 days a week, and evenings for a while now, on the order of 80 hours a week or so. Its the curse of software development - when the product is about to release, everyone is on deck, all the time. I was emailing our team in Japan at 11:30PM on a Friday night, when I would normally have been half passed out watching the end of an episode of Alton Brown. At any rate, I can see the light - we release soon, so hopefully I'll be able to take a little bit of a break in the near future.

In the meantime, things like seeing this little daughter of mine each day keep me moving forward (photo taken this morning).

I just thought I'd send out a few random thoughts on what's happening here - In a nutshell:

- Kids are well (The doctor successfully removed the surgical tube from little miss R.'s tear duct - good news)
- We are well
- Dogs are pretty well (Sparticus has hayfever, I kid you not)
- Weather has been awesome to variable. Seasonal depression is in a land far away this year. So far.

Quotable Jonah
Jonah has been increasingly quotable in the last few weeks - I've been trying to capture a few of the interchanges here and there, so here are the highlights.

On entering Starbucks, Jonah stopped at the door, looked through the glass, and said:
"This is where Aunt KC lives! Is she here?"
Me: "No, she's not here. Not today."
"Oh. She must be sleeping."

On trying to explain that Great Grandma has passed away, and that no, she won't be coming to visit, Jonah's questions were:
"Did she die?"
"Yes, she died."
"Was she squished?"

On one of his cousins that he speaks of often:
"Mom, remember Molly?"
"Yes, what about her?"
"Yeah. She's a Great girl."

On explaining the topology of a cranium:
"Jonah, do you have a forehead?"
J:"No...I have a sixhead. Six heads. One six head."

On the theory of why my head hurts:
"Mom, my head hurts."
"Why?"
"Because I have yucky stuff in it."
[This last one could very easily have been me. Can't remember right now - things are a bit on the blurry side.]

More soon. Stay tuned. In the mean time, check out AlmostFit -- I've got a few new posts over there. Trying to keep the fires burning, and get some of them put out.

AlmostFit.com: 11 ways to use good table manners to lose weight

2008-02-20T07:58:00.000-08:00

I've posted a new entry at AlmostFit. This one addresses using good table manners to your weight loss advantage. Incidentally, the photo was taken on our trip to Paris during one of the many incredible meals we had there. Here's an excerpt:

"It turns out that many of the habits of good manners that Mom and Grandma enforced had more merit than just keeping us from being considered obnoxious or distasteful in the company of others. At their core, good table manners are about dignity while eating. At certain points in life some of us might pitch those habits out of the window (ah, college), but over the span of your life, in addition to making you good company at the dinner table, practicing table manners may actually contribute to better health."

Read the rest of the story here.

So far, the new blog is doing alright - but it sure is a target for spam. I'm going to be adding some features to the commenting options that should help to reduce that problem, but we shall see. Of course, ads for gold necklaces and RVs might add a new dimension, but I doubt it.

AlmostFit.com: 33 tips on how to lose weight without dieting

2008-02-15T14:04:00.000-08:00

I've written another entry over at AlmostFit on losing weight by eating good food in moderation. So far this approach has been working for me without the usual emotional ebbs and flows that I've always associated with losing weight.

If you're interested, please check the article out - and if you like it, please consider subscribing via RSS and maybe giving it a Digg vote.

Thanks.

Interpretive Dance: Archaeology was never so Jiggy

2008-02-14T13:27:00.000-08:00

As an appreciator of the arts, I'd like to think that I generally "get it" when it comes to new-ish concepts that I have not previously been exposed to. However, I gotta say:

I don't get this one - "Dancing Dissertations."

Click through to the article and watch the videos.........

This article in the New York Times blog discusses a new form of PhD dissertation...through physical artistic interpretation.

Referring to Brian Steward, a grad student at Oxford:

"[...] He was the winner of the first “Dance Your PhD Contest,” held in Vienna, Austria, by John Bohannon, who writes the Gonzo Scientist column for the journal Science. Mr. Stewart, performing in a loin cloth, danced a highly stylized antelope chase followed by the processing and distribution of the food. He was assisted by a fellow archaeologist at Oxford, Giulia Saltini-Semerari, who played the antelope."

I don't know about you, but somehow I don't think Stephen Hawking would find any of this very amusing.

Read the full story in the New York Times, here (http://tierneylab.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/02/14/dancing-dissertations/).

photo thanks: lanimilbus over at Web Shots.

Escape From Portland! Rickets Runs Rampant!

2008-02-12T20:45:00.000-08:00

Yes, my fellow waterlogged Portlanders, it is time. Visions of Kurt Russell riding a spray-painted Nishiki out of this city with a sustainably produced rain jacket and ergonomic reclaimed toe clips should be coursing through your soggy mind right about now.

Why?

Because in case you haven't noticed, we are in the midst of the usual, sloppy winter in Portland, a time to hole up in our matted dens, burn large amounts of fossil fuels and abundant timber reserves using large mechanical blowing devices or alcoves in our living rooms formed out of stone, knit sweaters and art pieces out of those plastic bags that can't be recycled (you know, the ones you were going to use when you actually walked the dog several months before the rain), and get sucked into DVR-ing episodes of Anthony Bourdain, Project Runway, and the Dog Whisperer.

February is the time of year when natives of the Northwest stop looking hopefully to the sky for inklings of a ray of sun; If the sun does accidentally step between the rafters and through the dense, smothering cloud pillowed ceiling above, Portlanders and Seattleites alike barely acknowledge this hand-breaking-through-the-heavenly-ice with little more than a stoic grunt.

When I was young, I didn't have the means or the inclination to escape when the winter started to get to me. For a good portion of my life (including birth) I lived in the San Juan islands, learning what it means to live in a climate that includes a daily endurance test for the seasonally depressed, compounded by the unrelenting threat of drizzle and light wind, all before it gets dark each day at 4pm. We learned invaluable lessons sometimes the hard way, like how you should not stack things like baseball cards in your closet against exterior walls for fear of black mold; Or, despite their rugged disposition and devil-may-care attitude, Doc Martens are Not waterproof; And last but not least, the Legend of Zelda was and is the God-given natural substitute for actual exercise (unless you know of any caverns where they teach sword play and pyromania in exchange for rupies).

Now that I am in the early phases of middle age (which will last, mind you, for the next 40 years) I do have both the means (barely) and inclination to escape. Preferably by plane, and even more preferred, under the influence of the free samples of Rainier Ridge Cabernet that are refilled by the friendly but professional flight attendant.

We decided more or less on a whim to pack up the troops and head south for a few days, based on an excellent winter fare from Alaska Airlines and a strong desire to clear the condensation from the insides of our mental windshields.

On our way out, Portland weather was at its fiercest with whipping wind and heavy rain pounding the barely-above-freezing tarmac that would facilitate our escape.

It was as if the Rose city's heart was breaking, yelling angrily in the wind, "So you wanna' leave me when times are tough? Fine - I don't need you anyway - GET OUT!"

And get out we did.

We have now returned, and we have rekindled our passion for our city - slugs, Uggs, and all. But that doesn't mean I won't reminisce about my recent time spent under the influence of the golden rays showering down upon the Santa Monica mountains.

Here's a summary of our sun soaked escape, a treatment I highly recommend.

Southern California is winter perfection
Ah, sunny Southern California in wintertime. Our trip included stays in lovely Pasadena, Palm Springs, and Los Angeles, complete with mid-60's temperatures, perpetual sun, snow on the tops of the mountains, a spa treatment for my wife and a music creating session for me.

And let me tell you: It was the best thing we could have done at this time of year. I had to work part of the time, but even that was enjoyable with a view of the Pacific from our new 2nd floor office digs in Culver City and the company of my hearty Angelino coworkers, both native and imported, jaded and unjaded.

On the health side, not only did we get to enjoy the company of our best friends and close relatives, but we were able to recharge our depleted reserves of Vitamin D, preventing mild dementia and apparently, a potentially wicked case of Rickets.

I had no idea that I could get Rickets from lack of sun. But this year, friends, from this I am safe.

It's Palm Springs, baby
For me, our trip was filled with tremendous personal highlights, but I think my most interesting broadening of horizons is a newly discovered appreciation for Palm Springs. I have visited Palm Springs several times before, ridden the Tram and all that sort of thing, but those trips took place primarily in the deathly hot summer months.

The summer in Palm Springs often includes 120+ degree temperatures. I tend to whine when the temperatures approach 85. So as you might imagine, I could not understand why anyone would choose to live in the middle of the desert in this odd, surprisingly small town.

I also could not really grasp why you would willingly build your house directly, literally, on top of the San Andreas fault, which is where my brother-in-law's rental used to be. The neighborhood kids played in the fault line cave-in in the backyard. I'm not joking.

Has nobody in Palm Springs seen Superman? Lois in the car, anyone?

This time however, we saw a side of Palm Springs that has changed my mind. My brother-in-law's new place is very spa-like, complete with views of the mountains, a master suite and bath with a walk-in travertine-tiled shower, and a veranda - and is much further from the fault line (as if that made a difference - but I'll take it). With access to a pool and hot tub, very little traffic, and a view of the very trees under which Cary Grant spent many a winter's sunny 70-degree afternoon lounging in the company of film financiers and Hollywood starlets, we were poised to find the rejuvinative qualities of the famous desert oasis.

On Monday, April took the kids on an outing to the Palm Oasis, which can be seen here.

She gave me the day off, with hopes that I would be restored from the more grueling elements of fatherhood with a toddler and and a 1-year old, where sleep is hard to come by and patience rules every breath. The first order of business was to acquire something that I have lost recently for lack of use in Portland - my sunglasses. I needed a new pair, and found them easily.

Driving through town to find a sushi restaurant, the mood turned surreal when I discovered a radio station that was playing 60's "Champagne music", which Lawrence Welk made famous by pumping bubbles across the stage as he orchestrated the string-heavy predecessor of Muzak. I cranked it up with a complete disregard for the health and resonant qualities of my rental car's speakers.

The thing is, listening to The Maestro blasting while cruising through the old stomping grounds of Hollywood and political icons like Bob Hope, Frank Sinatra, and Gerald Ford, the surreal nature of a place like Palm Springs seeps up from the desert floor. I suddenly saw the quiet, desert flower-like quality of a place so protected from the rest of the world by a 40 mile-wide arid moat. Ah, sweet irony.

The only thing that I lacked was a convertible Cadillac, my Grace Kelly-like wife in the passenger's seat, and a picnic basket that included martinis and fried chicken.

After Palm Springs, we returned to L.A. and enjoyed every second with our closest friends that they had to spare. Our original plan included 5 days in the Southland spanning a weekend, but after the 4th day it was clear that an extension was in order. We stayed for an additional 3 days, which was definitely the right thing to do.

Back to the rain, footloose and Rickets-free

Returning to the Portland airport, on the way to baggage claim I noticed a portly balding gentleman in a dark trench coat, shoulders covered with a thorough sprinkling of fresh rain drops, hunched over the Starbucks counter having just stirred in his 2% milk. Cradling his 20 oz. coffee in his overstuffed fingers while his eyes shifted right and left, his mouth and nose hovering inches above the rising vapor, it was as if he was inhaling the contents of a jar of Vicks Vap-O-Rub to snap himself awake. A coffee huffer, if you will; a familiar sight in a city addicted to legal and illegal stimulants.

The man looked not unlike myself before we left. He stood as if he was inches away from escape with only a briefcase, a damp boarding pass, and an awareness that he is one of the lucky ones preparing to leave his jilted lover-like city for a few days of relief from the incessant outpouring of moisture. Here was a man in need of minerals and vitamins with the ability to restore vital and dwindling bone matter; a man desirous of a warm, soothing hand of sunlight gently working the tension from his shoulders and back; a businessman who wanted to feel the comfort of standing in his favorite wingtips, dry for a change.

At the time I didn't pay much attention to him, mostly because at that very moment, Jonah decided to drop his little red-strapped blue backpack and bolt for the escalator in a fit of 3-year-old bliss. Yet somehow, as we dragged our bags off of the carousel and onto the parking shuttle where you are allowed those brief limbo-like moments of inner contemplation of what you have just done and what you are about to do in the coming days, my thoughts returned to that man at the coffee counter, executing his escape plan as I had done days before. I imagined a pleasant rapport with this person that I had not met, his endurance of the winter and his exit on a whim, only to return days later with a revived spirit and a little bit of work accomplished.

Seeing others, like this man, with the same idea of leaving for a while, oddly made me realize that I was happy to be home. I think in large part because the city offered me the freedom to leave for a little while to have some time to myself. While Portland's ever-increasing grip on my urban sensibilities is strengthening with each passing day, I am also coming to view the city as a confident companion with a heart that understands that sometimes I just need a little sun.

And while I can't honestly say that I'm reveling in the rain as our friend Sharon does, I can say this: Having returned to the quiet sophistication and hearth-warmed comfort of Portland, I am anxiously waiting for my drink's prescription to be called out by a barista at the next caffeinated speakeasy. Hopefully this, followed by a stroll down the street to Powell's, and then some time in the company of the hints of spring and farmer's markets, which are now, in mid February, within my emotional reach.

I have the sense that Portland and I are going to make it work, with a little help from my Southern California friend, Rickets-free.

My Lord and my Salesman

2008-02-12T11:42:00.000-08:00

My friend LaVonne sent me this great little article on how I might be able to more fully incorporate devotion into my life - through great hand cream.

From a BBC News article today:

Jesus' cosmetic row in Singapore

A leading retailer in Singapore has withdrawn a cosmetics range with a Jesus theme after complaints from local Roman Catholics, local media report.

The range, named Lookin' Good for Jesus, was on sale at three Topshop outlets in the Asian city state.

[...]

The products included a "Virtuous vanilla" lip balm and a "Get Tight with Christ" hand and body cream, featuring a picture of Christ flanked by two adoring women."

---

Read the full story, here.

BlueQ, the vendor who makes the products, has a wide range of irreverent offerings that most of us have probably seen, including the Miso Pretty line and the Wash Away Your Sins soap products. Every time I see their products I think of my own little pieces of pop culture that could have been on that shelf next to the Starbucks barista posable figurines.

Here's an interesting article on how things get done at BlueQ: http://www.boston.com/lifestyle/fashion/articles/2008/01/31/laugh_factory/

To make this even better, LaVonne reports that in L.A. they sell BlueQ products at Wacko on Sunset. Gotta' love that.

I've seen them locally all over the place, but in particular I know that Acme Coffee and Gifts sells them in Oregon City. In fact, I may have bought the Instant Irish Accent breath spray. Er, me boy/wee lass.

Thanks LaVonne for the lift today!

AlmostFit.com: Managing weight loss while on vacation

2008-02-11T16:26:00.000-08:00

I've posted a new article on AlmostFit.com that discusses my experience with diet control while on vacation. Or should I say, lack of diet control. Here's an excerpt:

"Here’s how a perfectly cooked social event (like a wedding) wrapped in a meager dried out Diet usually goes for me:

I start out the evening saying, “Oh thank you but no…I’m not really a chocolate truffle dipped in gold dust and creamy exotic wisps of delight kind of guy,” or, “You know I have eaten SO much in my lifetime that I think I’ve lost my sense of taste, so those goat cheese medallions wrapped in savory bacon and topped with a light drizzle of olive oil would really be wasted on me.”

That resolve typically lasts all the way through the “good food” portion of the evening, where the guests are plied with decadent delights in order to be duly impressed with the hostess’s taste (and lavish budget). I can often survive that round. But by the time everyone else has now had their fill of the individual bottomless chocolate fountains spilling over onto the raspberry white truffle cake topped with a light creamy frosting, I’m grabbing Andre the Giant-sized handfuls of the leftover wedding mints and shoving them in my pockets for the starvation march (or drive) home.

I'm working on getting AlmostFit firing on all 6 cylinders, so suggestions, comments, and Diggs are welcome.

You can read the rest of the article, Managing weight loss while on vacation, here.

New Metroknow project: AlmostFit.com

2008-02-04T22:16:00.000-08:00

I've been away from life in Portland for a few days, but despite the travel I've decided to officially launch my next little project: AlmostFit.com.

In essence, AlmostFit describes my efforts to improve my health on a whole scale by losing weight, reducing chemical and processed food intake, and hopefully picking up some solid exercise habits along the way. In a nutshell, the focus is on bucking the low-fat low-cal packaged foods mantra that our culture has pushed on us for too long. We're eating less fat than we ever have, and exercising more than we ever have, but we're still getting fatter. Something is broken, and a few people seem to think that they've figured out what that is. I tend to agree.

Here's an excerpt from the most recent post entitled, "30 days to form a new habit? On the moon, maybe":

See, in my head, I have these little sugar-coated pixies running rampant through the wide-open echo chamber that is my mind. Skipping to and fro, they often stop at the little microphone horns that lead to my ears, and whisper to me things like, "Hey that's great! You lost weight - incredible! That was soooo hard. You really deserve to treat yourself. Go ahead. After all, your new habits are now a way of life, so a little indulgence isn't going to hurt, don't you think? After all, you've made it past the magic 30 day mark! Since 30 days have passed, these new habits are all solidified and permanent, right? I mean, even Science agrees on that, right?"

Swing on over to AlmostFit.com and check it out. Let me know what you think - I'm still tweaking the look and feel, and adding new features every day I have the chance. I'll be posting links to new entries for a while as a reminder in case you're interested.

Fox News: 11-Year-Old Boy Partially Deaf for Nine Years Is Suddenly Cured

2008-01-28T10:01:00.000-08:00

I'm not generally a big Fox news fan (they being the pawn of the Devil and all), but this headline had to be checked out. I was SURE it was going to be a story about Bat Boy, but alas...

"An 11-year-old boy from Britain, who was partially deaf for nearly 10 years, was suddenly cured when a thick piece of cotton popped out of his ear, according to a report in the Daily Mail.

Jerome Bartens was diagnosed as deaf in his right ear when he was just two-years-old.

Over the next nine years, he struggled to live a normal life as a young boy — but everything changed when he felt a sudden pop in his right ear while playing a game of pool with friends.

He put his finger in his ear and pulled out a tip of a cotton wool bud that had been wedged in his ear since he was a toddler.

"It was just incredible — his hearing returned to normal in an instant," Barten's dad said."

Read the full story here:
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,325986,00.html

And in case you want to know more about how Bat Boy truly does exist, watch this absolutely STUNNING footage:

Proof. Video never lies.

Magic formula for action films is: KILL. A LOT.

2008-01-25T11:05:00.000-08:00

So you want to write that screenplay and have no idea where to start? Here's a page that's got the quickest way to make it big in Hollywood - just follow the formula in the Rambo Cheat Sheet below, and you'll be hanging with Jean Claude - Thwack Thwack! - and Vin - Clank - Pow!, in no time. Click the image to check it out.

So next time someone abruptly tells you to, "keep your shirt on!" -- just think about the implications of that statement in Rambo-world for minute... They will have no Frickin' idea why you start smiling. Or screaming and making machine gun noises.

Well, other than the fact that you are mildly retarded.

Thanks to the Portland Mercury and the L.A. Times for doing this kind of research. Seriously.

Video: Bud Light swear jar

2008-01-24T14:26:00.000-08:00

Its not often that you find a commercial that makes you want to shoot milk out of your nose, on purpose. Let this be a precursor to the Superbowl, where all I'm really interested in is the commercials and the queso dip.

Got a nickel?

Portishead new album announcement

2008-01-23T16:43:00.000-08:00

Portishead announced today that the 10 year wait for a new album is finally ending, and not a moment too soon. Here's what Beth Gibbons and company are saying:

23 Jan 2008

We're pleased to announce that we'll be releasing our album, titled THIRD. on April 14th 2008.

The album has 11 tracks and is 49 minutes 13 seconds long.

Its about frickin' time. In addition to their Coachella appearance, this album should put them back on the map if the videos of the new material are any indication.

Check this video out - it's of one of the new songs. Watch it quick, because Island Records is chasing these puppies down like an old British Royal hunting caged, drugged-up pheasants, so who knows how long it will last......

Where's Metroknow, and it's Doo Dah Weekend!

2008-01-18T11:19:00.000-08:00

I've been pretty quiet on Metroknow for the last week or so, so in case you've been wondering, I wanted to post a quick note on what I've been up to.

Right now (as in, in separate tabs in this very browser session), I've got a bunch of exciting projects brewing that add up to one big pile of Web development - I am actively working on 5 other sites in various stages, including:

* A new technical/programming site (to be announced) with my friend Joe at Codetopia (Joe and I are creating technical content for developers, along with two other published writers). We're also continually working on our game concept for Xbox 360, which is still in early phases of development, but picking up steam.

* A new product/music/cool finder review site with my friend Z over at Birdsfall. Check out his latest blog entry for a sample. We're also teaming up with the guys at Brew Munkey to do some righteous coverage of the state of the Beer nation.

* My own new health and fitness blog that will open a discussion (hopefully) on my own struggles and victories with controlling my diet and exercise habits. Turns out I know a fair bit about the subject of weight loss and general fitness. Who knew?

* A literal frenzy of updates for the Pasadena Doo Dah Parade site, which I operate on a volunteer basis. The folks at Light Bringer, who own and run the Pasadena Doo Dah parade can really use some financial support, so we are trying to give folks options to shower them with cash via the site. The parade is this weekend, and the site is going crazy with traffic. Cool stuff.

* Last but not least, a new Web development venture with a few friends of mine where we're designing and implementing sites for small businesses, similar to the one I did for Tazlab. More info to come.

I'm also working on a site redesign for Metroknow to make it a little easier to read, a little more user-friendly, and all of that good stuff.

Oh, and busily working my day job, working on new music for Beneath the Whale, hosting my sister and then parents' visit this week, and raising two children with my very patient wife.

I am also hunting for a riding lawn mower.

Doo Dah Madness
A little more on the Pasadena Doo Dah Parade - If you happen to be in the L.A. area this weekend, you should definitely check it out. The Doo Dah parade is essentially the cracked-out out-of-the-closet counterpart to the annual stodgy money making machine that is the January 1 Rose Parade. The Rose Parade is steeped in mountains of tradition and Old Money, and it is monetized all the way down to the folding chairs and paper cups.

The Doo Dah Parade, by contrast, consists of a loosely-knit band of volunteers hosting hundreds of wacky folks marching down the street in all of their freakish, strange glory. In fact, it follows part of the same route as the Rose Parade, but in reverse, which is by no means an accident. Doo Dah has been featured on the Travel Channel, many national newspapers and local TV news stations, gets great coverage in the Pasadena Weekly, and has a spot on CNN this weekend. It is an absolute, Freakish Blast.

My wife and I were also the hosts of the Queen Tryouts several years ago at the Zorthian Ranch in Altadena. It was bizarre to say the very, very least...which is why I think we fell in love with the whole idea.

Here are a couple of videos that will be making their way to the site after the parade (running short on bandwidth for this month, which is awesome) - it was one of our favorite annual events in Pasadena when we lived there, and I still create and maintain their sites.

10 reasons why toddlers LOVE lectures

2008-01-09T13:06:00.000-08:00

We, the parents of our two beloved, wonderful children, were finally able to get a date night this weekend. A real one, by ourselves, where we had a trusted friend take care of both children while we left the house and did the things that remind us of who we are as individuals. Apparently, we are not just Mama's Milk Factory or Dad's Montessori Child Delivery service, but real, reasonably intelligent and dare I say likable human beings.

Spending an hour at a wine bar and paying a visit to Powell's Books probably sounds excessively pedestrian to most Portland folks, but if you have recently come through the well-worn path of childbirth while simultaneously wrangling a toddler, you know how important this is.

And for us, it is monumental.

Why the word monumental? As in, deserving of a public art installation or a commemorative plate from the Franklin Mint?

Here's the story.

In the course of preparing for childbirth, we received some of the best advice on child rearing and relationship maintenance from one of our birthing coaches.

"No matter what you do, no matter what challenges you face with your new little one, or how precious and delicate your newborn is, there is one thing you have to do: You have to have a date night at least once a month, with no children. And there is one rule that must not be broken: On that date night, you must not talk about the children. It is the single most important thing to keep you sane, and ultimately, together."

The, "no talking about the kids," rule might sound a little too black and white for some, but she elaborated that as parents you generally have ample opportunity to talk about your strategy for raising children when they are out of earshot, but still with you. Your date night should be about you as a couple, not the children, even if only for a few hours.

In our case, this is true - we do have those opportunities to talk about our parenting plan while in the relative company of our children. Discussions like our approach to virtual tag-team elbow drops at dinner time or reviewing newly learned techniques on guiding a child to the appropriate conclusion without telling him to, "do this - or else" (Toddler: "Objection your honor - leading the witness." Judge: "Objection overruled. You may continue Counselor") are possible at home; even self-confidence drilling-and-infusion tactics can all be addressed either with the use of spelled out code ("I am losing my M-I-N-D, how about you, darling?"), or when they are busy tearing apart a non-toxic house plant.

So why is the date night such a big deal? Without family close by, and being somewhat new to the area, we've been housebound for a while now. And its starting to show.

Bottom line: We've had 3 sets of 3 hours together sans children, outside the house, in the last 10 months.

Editor's Note: For the record, we are aware that this does not adhere to the once a month rule.

Can you hear me now? How about now? Now? Now? Is this thing on?

In our case, lately much of the constructive parental conversation that should occur outside of the company of our children could theoretically take place in the open air, as our oldest, young master Jonah, has entered a new, commonly occurring developmental phase:

I believe he is only hearing in what I am guessing is Esperanto, or perhaps a lost Norman dialect.

Example: "Jonah, sweet boy, put your pants on please. Pants on please. Pants. You know, pants? The ones you are holding? Pants? Pantalons. Pantouches. Pantoramas. Panty-wanties -- no that doesn't sound right. Pants. Put them on. On.On. Pants. Do you want to go to the park? Then put your pants on! Pants please? What did I just say? Pants - Pants - Pants - ???"

Jonah: "Que? ¿me habla usted?"

Curiously, to the best of my knowledge, Jonah does not speak Spanish.

At one point I actually thought a hearing test might be in order. "Oh honey sweet darling dear intelligent wife, you know I'm really wondering if maybe Jonah actually can't physically hear me - I mean, I say something, and sometimes he repeats the tones back as if he heard the sounds, but he's not picking up the words. What do you think, dearest love of mine and eternal true North of my very being?"

With a nice motherly stroke to the head which I can only characterize as a pat: "Oh, I think that is probably not the problem, charmingly naive husband. But we can get him tested if you like."

To prove my theory and reclaim my pater familial status, I conducted an informal, completely non-scientific test in which I whispered his name quietly from across the room to see what exactly he could hear. While I know this is far from comprehensive, I think the results speak for themselves.

Me, whispering: "Jonah."
Jonah: "Yeah Dad?"
Whispering, barely above a breath: "How old are you?"
Jonah: "3 Dad! You're funny!"

I am not a medical professional or a licensed audiologist, but clearly, hearing loss is not the issue.

Out of desperation I have resorted to trying other languages and my own pseudo-dialects in hopes that one of them will get through by the 9th or 10th repetition or rephrasing. In moments of frustration and sophomoric mental sarcasm I have been tempted, Tempted, to mimic sign language while speaking slowly in a fit of complete disregard for how wrong that would be, but I have refrained. At least, physically.

I also seem to be heavily influenced by those early Bill Cosby records that I listened to where he describes his mother saying, "Sit down sit sit sit sit sit sit sit sit! Stop it stopit stopit stopstopstopstopstopstopstop Stopit!"

I have the urge to do that, loudly, like you wouldn't believe. Even just the thought gives me that energized feeling I get when I solve a Rubik's cube or finish a Sudoku puzzle while our 10-month old screeches distractingly in pre-Christian Pterodactylian.

In those moments, Bill Cosby's voice rings in my head like a relentless echo bouncing around the Greatest and deepest of Grand Canyons, a dry, 5-mile-deep Marianas Trench if you will, encapsulated in a planetary echo chamber that looks like a giant snow globe being shaken by the hand of the Devil himself. Seriously.

Sibling Rivalry 101

I have also found that as I get stretched thinner (more evidence that we need a break), I am beginning to lose my grip on the positive parenting techniques that are supposed to replace the bad ones.

With emphasis on the words, lose my grip.

After a recent bout of sibling rivalry which the older of the two very obviously won, out of frustration I resorted to some "old school" guilt on our oldest (something we try not to do despite its commonality during our own upbringings). While firmly explaining to him that he needs to be gentle with his little sister - I suddenly and unexpectedly took a left turn at the overgrown corner of Guilt St. and Emotional Pressure Boulevard.

In essence I told him that it is a big brother's job to keep his little sister safe; his, "responsibility"; perhaps even, "the single most important thing that he MUST do, even if the world and its lesser-known brother are on fire...". To my way of thinking, maybe this is not so bad if it keeps him from using his little sister as an experiment for how fast his tricycle goes on broken glass. But somehow placing the entire burden of his sister's well-being on his 3-year-old shoulders doesn't strike me as an ideal parenting move.

Had it stopped there, I could have lived with it. I mean, we all at times are less than ideal parents, and its part of what makes us quirky and mildly stunted as adults, which can be charming (or so I tell myself. When I'm, you know, talking to myself.). But where things really went "old school," where things went awry as they say, is I may have elaborated on that concept for a while. A good, long, repetitive, while. In fact, it probably could be construed as what is known in some archaic cultures as, a lecture [Gasp!].

I'm not sure if you're familiar with that term, lecture, as it has gone out of fashion in today's attention-deficit driven world, but it comes from the Latin phrases Lec and Tchure, which were used as follows in ancient times: "Lec's see. Djou says somting to me to do? Tchure! I can do dat. What is dat ting again? Can djou say it again 8 million tines, because I no understand. No no - I can hear you over the headphones. Jus keep saying it. A lotta tines. K?"

Of course, as you can imagine it was amazingly effective. Because everybody knows that 3-year-olds respond incredibly well to lectures and diatribes in general. They are a very reasonable lot, those 3-year-olds. They obviously enjoy a good conceptual back-and-forth; a solid, lengthy give-and-take intellectual discussion that really gets to the heart of the matter; a tit-for-tat interchange that seeks the truth that binds us all together as 3-year-olds at heart, and that satisfies the soul with deep interpersonal reflection and contemplative spans of quiet recollection.

It is as effective as lecturing the dog on why a soiled diaper is not her best choice for nutrition or dental health.

But, it makes you feel like you're doing something about it, even though deep down you know it will make absolutely no difference - except that you are indirectly supporting the counseling industry 18 years from now, when what you have just said will be systematically dismantled by a certified professional.

So really, in a sense, bad parenting is a good thing. It's for the economy. And what's good for the economy, is good for America.

Not to mention, he's only 3, so technically I don't think that in the state of Oregon I can force him to be employed as his sister's bodyguard for room, board, and Thomas the Train pieces, but in the moment it seemed to make sense to me.

Like I said, Monumental

These examples are precisely why a date night can be considered monumental for us - we really needed the mental break, if nothing else to keep us from breathing life into the tyrants that we have the potential to become.

In fact, rather than just monumental, it might be more accurate to say our date night was monumentally Good for us.

In my opinion, given the need, getting a date night may call for a nice ceramic garden statue or some piece of public, permanent art commemorating the event.

But here's the best part: Our friend E., the one who watched the children for us, has volunteered to do so many more times in the near future (every other week to be precise). So the new statue, the Monument if you will, may very well be dedicated to our friend E. for saving us from ourselves.

Thanks to our imminent date nights, I may just survive yet. Although I have learned how to say, "Pants on please" in 13 languages so far.

Want to see it in sign language?

****
Coming next: A review of our evening, including our impressions of Winestock (a local Oregon City wine bar).

Radiohead's tour of America announcement

2008-01-09T09:54:00.000-08:00

Ezra over at the Portland Mercury's Blogtown PDX is reporting that Radiohead will be touring the states this year. You can check the details here.

Here's the info so far:
The tour will take place in two segments, one prior to and one following the recently announced summer tour of the UK and Europe.

The cities IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER are:
Atlanta
Boston
Charlotte
Chicago
Cleveland
Dallas
Houston
Indianapolis
Los Angeles
Miami
Montreal
New York
Philadelphia
San Diego
San Francisco
Santa Barbara
Seattle
St Louis
Tampa
Toronto
Vancouver
Washington DC

I checked at Dead Air Space and still nothing by way of announcement as of this post, but I'm sure something will be coming soon.

Video: Jonah's Bruce Lee dancing

2007-12-30T23:52:00.000-08:00

(Or, How I spent my Winter Vacation. On my wife's Mac.)

Check Jonah out - he's going to be the next Bruce Lee of dance. Or, er, something.

Turn up the sound for the full effect.

Fox News' sexy typo

2007-12-20T10:52:00.000-08:00

Typos are pretty common these days - lord knows I have a few hundred buried on this site. I try to fix them as I find them, but ya know, its a blog -- what do you expect?

On the other hand, if you're Fox News, you might want to hire an editor or two to check for things like this (on Google News this AM):

I mean c'mon. If you're going to misspell a word, shouldn't it be one that second graders can't identify? Or one that is NOT related to increasing your vocabulary? Of course, maybe it's in Bill O'Reilly's contract that he doesn't get edited. Not sure.

***

UPDATE: And not to be outdone, within minutes CNN posted this complementary typo:

Is it just me (I know I am), or are we all getting dumber by the second?

The RIAA should sue Apple

2007-12-11T22:46:00.000-08:00

There's a lot of buzzing going on today about whether the RIAA is trying to quash the creation of backup MP3's, the actual act of ripping a CD, for personal use. Unfortunately, this is just increasingly typical blog-o-matic blah-blah-blah. How so? How can I say that? Et tu, Blog-us?

To sum up, in the current court battle Atlantic v. Howell, the RIAA asserts that the defendants, husband and wife Jeffrey and Pamela Howell, are guilty of copyright infringement because they made copies of their own CDs and stored them in a shared folder on their computer. While the lawyers for the RIAA contend that they illegally shared their files via the file sharing service Kazaa, the Howells argue that they only shared the files between themselves, and since they both own all of the discs, they have committed no crime. What's more, the Howells are actually defending themselves, with no lawyers to translate into slime-eze for them.

Seems like a reasonable fight, albeit a little David and 10,000 lbs. Goliath-with-machine-guns-esque.

The thing that is causing the stir in the blog-o-matic spinning wheel however, is the wording of part of the brief. Some non-weasel-like folks are interpreting the wording to mean that the RIAA is trying to extend copyright law to say that the simple act of creating an MP3 is "unauthorized," and therefore possibly infringement. Others contend that the wording of the brief is not attacking the creation of an MP3 per se, but the act of sharing it via a shared folder or sharing service (such as kazaa), which is already well-founded.

So what is the truth? Is it the ripping of an MP3, or placing it in a shared folder?

Two things immediately come to mind here:

1. This is a given: Yes, of course the RIAA and its shape-shifting brood squad is always, always, always trying to extend the application of copyright protection in any way they can, using any weasel-ese they can to create a precedent in law. That is a lawyer's job when you work for someone with hundreds of millions of dollars at stake. And a lawyer's "pleasure" when you are the hand-servant of Clive Beelzebub himself.

2. In this case unfortunately, after reading the brief that has spawned this oft-sampled-out-of-context quote, and reading numerous arguments for and against, in my opinion the sticking point is not that the copies were made, but that they were shared via a shared folder. Even if only shared between users or computers. And this conclusion is due to one very good reason: If this were true, that the act of making a copy for ethical, legal use, is threatened with the "illegal" brand, then who, prey tell, would this irritate? Can you say IPod, anyone? Windows Media Center, y'all?

All of the fevered sensationalists and knee-jerk commenters/bloggites are forgetting this one, very simple common sense fact (which is an increasingly common trait, I think, thank you Fox News):
There are more than just a few folks with Marshall Stacks of money on the table who will say, "Nuh-uh! No-way! Don't be stupid!": Companies like Apple, Microsoft, and a whole slew of cash-happy companies who sell lucrative devices and operating systems that depend on making an ethical copy to make the device usable, are on the side of making an ethically (and legally) used copy.

Somehow, despite the blathering of chatter from the Chatterlings, I am not hearing the discernible pitter-patter-clop-clop of little Apple lawyers with their Gevaudan paws tipped with hoofs climbing out of their caves to do battle with the RIAA Devils who would stamp out their wallet-sized deposit-only cash machines while the money-bloated beasts sleep.

With all of the hoopla in discussion surrounding this, I haven't seen anyone addressing the fact that the most marketed music device in the world depends heavily on copying music, and they don't seem too worried about it.

Yes, Law and Order fans, the simple act of ripping a CD is not illegal in any way, so long as it is not shared (because as everybody knows, lawyers do not share. That is what it says on the insides of their little green hats when they pass the bar.), and it will take a long time and more money than the RIAA has to convince the likes of the Steve-er twins to stop selling their little digital money baskets because the case against Ma and Pa Howell proves everything.

So can we please go just back to hating the RIAA out of principle? Works for me.

Where art thou, Portland Tikka Masala?

2007-12-09T22:14:00.000-08:00

We have been craving Indian food lately. Unfortunately, in the southern end of the Portland Metro area it seems that really good Indian food, or for that matter, any Indian food, is tough if not impossible to come by. For us, Indian food is the equivalent of home fries and chicken fried steak for many cold-weather Northwest folks - It's comfort food in a nice red, green, or yellow sauce.

Investment tip: For the thousands of restaurateurs and investors out there looking for that winning idea (and who depend on Metroknow for advice on all of their future moves, ahem), Please take note: As far as I can tell, there are NO Indian restaurants in Oregon City or West Linn. None. I think its not too big of a leap to say that I am sure that a quality Indian restaurant would do really well here since the disposable incomes and urban tastes of West Linn and Lake Oswego are easily within striking distance. The closest that we've found is Got Curry in no-man's-land on the 99E, which is reasonably good, but doesn't inspire me to go there unless I happen to be driving by.

So, rather than being frustrated by the lack of instant turmeric and cardamom gratification, I decided to take the plunge and use the craving as inspiration to make it myself from scratch (be-still my beating heart) - something I've wanted to do for a long time now. Fortunately, we have good friends who know that we have an interest in Indian cuisine, we have the Internet, and I have resident chef April here to bail me out when I get in over my head, which actually did happen this time (I bail her out on fried eggs and toast in the morning, she bails me out on anything else requiring culinary skill - symbiosis at its finest). Over time our closest friends have given us an excellent Indian cookbook and bags full of Indian spices, so I had a lot of help. Combining that with a few recipes from the Web and a trip to the grocery store, we had a royal experiment in grinding, marinating, sauteeing, broiling, and simmering that would put my brain and fingers to the test.

Here's what we had:
Cucumber and Red bell pepper Raita
Chicken and shrimp Tikka Masala
Aloo Gobi
Naan (packaged)
Coconut rice with cashews

Sounds simple enough, but after having made these for a single meal, I am literally in awe of those who make this on a daily basis. One of the best meals I have ever had was homemade Indian fare at J. and S.'s house, care of their visiting friends from France (ah, southern california backyard evenings in the cooling breeze among our dearest ones...hang on, gotta go add another wet log to the fire). Nothing I made was particularly exotic; In fact, there are a lot of folks who are quick to point out that Chicken Tikka Masala is not truly an authentic Indian dish (we added the shrimp to extend the protein a bit). Of course, it is served at nearly every Indian restaurant I've been to, and has become a favorite of mine, authentic or not, so it was on this evening's menu.

Things that went right:
The Tikka Masala turned out extremely well, and I'm really excited that I now know how to make this with a pan and a whole lot of spices. The rice was reasonably good, although the coconut milk and cashews were an improvisation that seemed to throw off the moisture content of the rice a bit, so the rice was a little soft. Oh, and the Raita was excellent. I improvised quite a bit there too to taste, and it turned out stellar.

Things that went less than right/things I would do differently next time:
Serrano peppers varied wildly in potency. First one, I bit the tip off and got no heat at all. I then de-veined and de-seeded the others with my bare hands, which I regretted later (should have worn latex gloves), as the remaining peppers were extremely hot, which I discovered later. I say, "regretted later," because the acids in the hotter peppers continued to burn my fingers through the next day (April has actually gotten blisters from this process when she makes chile rellenos from scratch). I also overcooked the eggplant for the Aloo, so it was a bit on the mushy side, but turned out alright. Oh, and I'm definitely buying a food processor. Hand-milling the paste for the Aloo was fun and all, but took 30 minutes of continuous mashing to get it to a paste. Also, a little prep-planning would have saved a lot of time; I chopped the same vegetables at least 3 separate times rather than all at once for every dish. In the end, to speed things up and give me a bit of a mental break, April stepped in and helped with the Aloo in particular, which made a big difference. Thanks, Dahling!

That said, all together it took 4 hours of intense cooking to create our dinner. But they were 4 well-spent hours. We invited our friend E. and her boyfriend D. over from next door to share the feast, and while dinner wasn't exactly on the table at 6PM sharp (3+ hours later than that, actually), they assured us that it was worth the wait.

Here are a couple of photos. For our close friends reading this from afar, rest assured, this is one of many trial runs that are all done with the anticipation of a family feast of Bollywood proportions, when we reconvene.

The verdict:
All in all, I must say I consider this to be a glowing success. I am confident that this is the first of many from-scratch Indian excursions to come. I definitely want to deepen my understanding of the regional differences in Indian food, and can't wait to try it again.

Little one's surgery at Legacy Emanuel Hospital

2007-12-05T14:55:00.000-08:00

Our tiny one, little miss R., went into surgery this morning for minor work to repair a duct that never opened between her left eye and nose. Essentially they surgically insert a temporary tube between her eye and nose to create the connection, and then after 2-3 months of healing, they will remove it.

In 8 words: Today was the surgery, and it went fine.

In 3 words: It went Fine.

The doctor, a young, nice-looking pediatric ophthalmologist with very hairy arms (as have I), assured us that it is a routine operation that he does often, and one which he has done several hundred times in recent years. He is as I mentioned, young (of course any surgeon not over 50 looks young when your kids are on the line), but very confident in his ability, and is quick with very definitive answers. We liked him, and felt he was not only up front with us, but was steady of hand (maybe its the folicular abundance that keeps the hand properly weighted, as it does mine) and with my extensive background check I determined that he is easy on the vodka tonics (at least, he did not wreak of anything alcoholic when I did a spot check this morning and his DNA mapping came out clean).

As you might imagine, even with all of that reassurance, we were still a collective bundle of nerves. The surgery isn't too worrisome to me; its the general anesthesia of a 16.5 lb baby that puts me in a fundamental state of uneasiness. I don't think any parent relishes the idea of having their little one put under general anesthesia, no matter how surgically seasoned they are.

But, let me reiterate: It Went Fine.

Surgery day went something like this:
12 AM: No more food or water for the baby (which really means no nursing to put her back to bed)
1-4 AM: Baby was tossing and turning, as were we. I suspect she picked up on our nerves.
4:03 AM: Baby was wide awake, sitting up, clapping to try to get her mother's attention. Time to change venue from the bedroom and let Mama sleep even if only for an hour.
5:15 AM: Baby still awake, playing on the living room floor and watching the news of northwest floods with Dad. Time to wake Mom up.
5:48 AM: In the car headed for the hospital
6:34 AM: Late check in, then up to the room to wait. Weigh in, under the arm temp, and we're on deck. Baby is busy, happy to be playing with the rails of the bed and smiling at the other children in the room. So innocent...so oblivious to her parents' plan. It's for her own good. Really.
7:11 AM: Move to Pre-Op in a loud room with 8 other anxious children and their overwrought detail of parents, grandparents, and siblings. Assistant guiding us there refers to R. as "Ginger - oh isn't that a beautiful name!"to everyone she sees on the way risking dismemberment from our baby's loving mother... Pre-Op is rather zoo-like, and somewhat disconcerting (the nurse on duty suggests as much, and says she'll get her out of here as quickly as possible). I made an off-hand joke about the doctor being able to play 8 games of chess at once. Nerves, I suppose.
7:15 AM: Meet with the anesthesiologist, surgeon, and nurse/assistant (didn't catch which credentials he had). Doctor verifies with us that it is indeed the "Left" eye, yes? We sign a paper that agrees. Glad we cleared that up.
7:32 AM: The band of three practitioners carry our baby away, to the operating room. Momentary Internal Parental Panic Syndrome (MIPPS) overtakes us both for a few seconds. "She is our beautiful baby; how can we give her into the hands of another, hell bent on putting her under the influence of chemicals and drilling holes in her tear ducts?"
7:33 AM: Let the waiting begin. We read a magazine on Movies to distract. We eavesdrop on two other couples discussing moving to various counties in Washington from their former homes in California. Is everyone in the Northwest from California?
8:15 AM: Doctor returns to waiting room in scrubs, and delivers the good news that all is well.
8:30 AM: Baby is awake from anesthesia, and Mom is invited in to calm and sooth.
8:40 AM: Baby and familial troop are moved to recovery.
9:30 AM: Time to go home.

Meanwhile, our firstborn, Dr. J. Jr., stayed home in the morning with our good friend J.V. She is like his aunt, and he knows her well. Our friend J.V. told us that young master J woke up promptly at 7:30, ready to go to school and enthusiastic. We had prepared him well so that he would not be scared when he woke up and we were not there, so all went well. He got dressed, ate breakfast, and they were off to school without event.

All of this really does make you think about things, no matter how cliche that might be. You stand in the sterile environment of a hospital, observing the faces and movements of other parents, wondering what everyone else is in for, but scared to know for sure. You'd rather bear your own burdens on mornings like this. In a waiting room, everyone is a tortured soul. You hate to feel like you are the least tortured of all, but secretly everyone hopes that they have the least to worry about of anyone in the room.

OH how thankful we are for healthy children. Our beautiful baby girl's surgery was incredibly minor compared to some, and yet terribly scary nonetheless. I am thankful for my son. I am thankful for my daughter. I am thankful for my wife.

One more time: It Went Fine.

Time for a nap. I am exhausted.