Townes Van Zandt Kinda Night

Portland next week

I can't wait. We'll be celebrating Shannon "Dr. Weeks'" N.D. degree. I'll get to see James, possibly Peter, plus Charles will be at the Organic Brewer's Fest.

Dad and I drove from San Fransico to Seattle when I was 12, but I barely remember it. So this is all I really know about Portland, which is a good start, and possibly all I need to know:

Happy Dad Day

I had a really fantastic day. The kids made me a wonderful card, even got to brew a batch of beer. Plus not only a a Father's Day fax, but we got a phone call from Francesca at camp. Received an AMAZING amp for my guitar, wow. Dad said he and Mom went to brunch at Morty's, then Dad had a short American Spirit Sunday tour to give. We sent him the new Deadliest Catch book, Time Bandit, and a bottle of home brew.

This has been a difficult Father's Day for the extended family. It's hard for me to know what to do or say. But I do know, for sure, that I love my Dad very much, and he's always been there for me, every day, for 43 years. I don't understand why I got so lucky. When my family and friends are in pain, I wish I knew how to make them better. I love my family, painfully, and all the families in it.

Poem by Dick Lourie

"Is There Gas In The Car?" "Yes, There's Gas In The Car!"

Sometimes when I'm down this cheers me up.

From Family Guy, the one where Stewie disguises himself as a popular high schooler and infiltrates the cool kids:

"You can see them on my MySpace page, along with my favorite songs and movies and things that other people have created, but that I use to express my individualism."

"I have a MySpace page too!"

"Yeah, I have mine ironically."

Twitter Hard!

JC shot this site to me (not tweeted? Dude, if you don't I will). Made my week. In full disclosure, I got a Twitter account, only to keep jordanweeks from being snatched up by that Australian sports photographer. Yoink!

1) Fan belt light came on in the 911 so now I'm driving the Cayenne Turbo S - the backup, backup car. Trying not to think about the Tesla...

2) it makes me sad, the more I have success the more people don't like me....

3) @garyvee I had the biggest lemonade stand on the block when I was 6. Was even expermienting with variable pricing and freemium models :)

4) Went to the gym this morning. As I left, everyone said I was the best!

And my all-time favorite, that kills dead forever my standard Twit joke:

5) ok poop is coming out.

Guy Kawasaki! You used to be my man! Apparently Twitter brings out the crosseyed narcissist in everyone. Except you, dear reader. It looks good on you.

10) @wildbill I don't get it either. Who pushes out more interesting links AND interacts more than me on Twitter?

Have a marvelicious Memorial Weekend, everyone.

Get some rest.

And We're Changing Our Name to Texenophobiaville

WICHITA FALLS, TX—"I have nothing personal against Americans," said Texas Governor Rick Perry. "I just think they should stay in America, where they belong."
MORE>>

Just When I Needed Some Guidance From Above...

Seek, and ye shall find.

Combined with this synergistic absolute contraindication:

Equals this (there's an HBO ad at the beginning, sorry, but so worth it):

Bike Redonculawesomeness

Starting at age 18 (right before fax machines got small and cheap), I was a bike messenger in DC. Did it for 5 years, on and off. Never got this good. Is there anyone as good as this guy? Brilliantly filmed, perfectly scored - stunt after stunt, relentlessly topping himself.

Thanks, zefrank, consistently amazing as always. Between this and Mandy, got my bike geek fix in for the month.

Heh...MacAskill.

Pipie Suits Up For Gardening

Brewed a Scottish Peated Wee Heavy Tonight

Visited Austin Homebrew Supply for two and a half cases worth of beer ingredients. Cost me $24 bucks. The six-pack of Sierra Nevada Torpedo I drank while brewing cost me about $10. You do the math.

Grain Bill:

.25 lb. peated

.5 lb. biscuit

1 lb. Special B crystal

1 lb. Cara-Munich
Malt extract:

6 Lbs. amber syrup
Sugars:
.5 lb. Turbinado sugar
.25 lb. Corn sugar

Hops:

.5 oz. Fuggle (bittering)

.25 oz. 10-yr. aged Czech Saaz (flavoring)

Yeast:

Safale S-04 dry English Scottish ale

Yum. Smells like BBQ. And, whene'er to drink you are inclin'd, Tam o' Shanters.

April Updates

Hey, Cupcake.

1) Jodie's back from Houston. I missed her, and so did the kids, but they did really well. Not a single mommy-related meltdown. Went to a birthday party at Goin' Bananas, and Caleb's house warming party (as usual, Scout didn't want to go, then didn't want to leave). Even got a bunch of work done on Saturday. And tonight, with Francesca, we're back to being all together.

2) Mike tried to do it again. Making me feel disoriented and defeated the last few days (he's in ICU, and stable now). Poor Betty. And Lis - like pregnancy isn't a bitch enough as it is.

3) Acquired another boss at work (now I have 4), who's in Raleigh, so I'll probably never meet him. Which is making the lead writer batshit crazy, mostly all over me. Please God -when the hell can I own my own business again?!

4) Got linked in one of Mandy's blog posts, that was nice. Random act of kindness to right the heel.

5) Can't tell you how desperately I'm looking forward to Shannon's graduation. Charles pointed out we'll be there for the North American Organic Brewer's Festival. Maybe drag James along.

7) Need to brew again. I'm thinking Scottish Wee Heavy. Feel like something heady, sweet, and smoked.

6) Thanks for all your support. I love you too. Cheers.

McKinney Falls, Part 3 - Lower Falls

Smith Rockshelter Trail winding up to the Visitor's Center has some steep stone stairs, and wooden walkways.

Toots tracing mile marker 3, in front of Old Baldy (to the left). She's a 500-yr-old bald cypress, over 60 feet tall.

Bathroom and water fountain break at the Visitor's Center. They also lent us some fishing poles. We bought night crawlers at the entrance.

You can tell we're in the middle of a drought - normally this entire rock ledge is spilling over. The girls bounced back and forth between those two rocks up front about 15 times.

Toots pointing to where we were fishing. Not a nibble. Worms were fun to play with, though.

Girls went bouldering instead.

Pipie took off like a little mountain goat.

She just grabbed holds and hauled herself up...

...straight up sheer walls.

Da-dah!

Heeeeee!

My natural-born rock climbers. We also saw frogs and a little shoestring water snake.

I love this place. Only 15 minutes from our house. Before Texas spring heat crashes down, Jodie and Francesca will be with us next time, when we head back for some primitive camping. And some real fishing. Meaning, catching.

McKinney Falls, Part 2 - Rock Shelter

Cool overhang (temp. and awesome-wise), used over the centuries by various tribes, most recently the Tonkawa. Onion creek ran through here and cut into the soft limestone - now it flows about 50 feet below.

CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESE!"

"One little, two little..."

Pipie likes to have her picture taken more than Toots.

Playing by the metate and fire pit.

Scout: "I'm ready to go!" That was actually a long hike, to get here. They did good.

Aaaaand...they're off.
Up next: the Trail; Lower Falls.

McKinney Falls, Part 1 - Upper Falls

People all over the top of the falls wanted to take pictures of the girls.

Note Miss P's hiking outfit, and 4-foot-tall Scoutie.

All these pics were taken with the Dash.

Camera phones + Moore's Law = 1 less bulgy pocket.

Up next: the Rock Shelter

After that: Lower Falls rock scramble & fishing hole

Happy Friday, Thank God It's Here And Not There

The whole week, feeling kinda like this. Hoping James made it to Portland safely. Loving all you all.

The Latest Majority Report from TED

Thanks to the last 10 years of tech absorption into our everyday lives, cyberpunk science fiction genre is now dead & buried (don't bother with William Gibson's last 3 irrelevancies, and Neal Stephenson is spiraling away with historical fantasy). But this "6th Sense" invention pounds down the final nail. Philip K. Dick would laugh himself into a coughing fit with this one.

Beer Wars Film: Can I Listen To Your Beer?

++=WTF?
What does a conservative, Nixon-worshipping, religious right/GOP groveller and hand-crafted beer have in common? Less than nothing, I thought, but there MUST be a good reason Ben Stein has attached himself to something WAY cooler than anything he's done in his life.

In the few months since subscribing to the Zealot's newsletter, I've learned more about home brewing in Austin than I did working at Austin Homebrew. And by "more" I mean "not as much," but here's the most recent awesome thing they posted: a new documentary about the American brewing industry, and the craft brewing upstarts that are fundamentally changing everything we know about beer.

Outside of his "Beuller...Beuller..." schtick and his mildly entertaining "Win Ben Stein's Money" trivia show, I have a hard time getting past Ben's incongruous intellectual hypocricy (e.g. tilting at creationist windmills, weeping over Nixon's resignation). It's like discovering a famous astrophysicist is also a Scientologist. "Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed?" Dude, you were a presidential speechwritwer. You've published, like, 10 NY Times bestsellers. You're capable of grasping the irony, and you don't need the money.

Despite the creepy shadow Ben throws on the festivities, I can't wait, and I'm thinking of putting a petition together to get the Alamo Drafthouse to show it. The last beer thing I went to there (w/Tim and Caleb) was a funny, drunken travelogue by a bunch of friends on a US brewery tour (American Beer), while we were served beers from the breweries visited as the film progressed. More fun than you can stick a shake at.

These trailers are too dee-lish and new-trish. I salivate in their general direction.

Pandora's Box of Slumdog Qawwali

I was very pleased to see "Slumdog Millionaire" sweep the Oscars. I was even more pleased to see Francesca coming out of the showing before us, at the Alamo. It touched on a dizzying array of India-specific realities. One of which lept out of the screen and into the laps of the film makers - the BBC reported that the boy and girl who played Salim and Latika still lived in the slums (one in a tarp under a bridge), and only recently were relocated to permanent houses.

The closing dance number in the train station (Jai Ho) was also ek dam pukka accha hai, although this one may beat it:

Didn't know he spoke Hindi? Now you do.

Actually, what got all this started today was being Facecrack-tagged for a list of 25 favorite albums of all time (not done yet). I included ustad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan's "Live in Paris," which got me thirsty for some tenor qawwali wajad, leading me in turn to create a Pandora station using his name, resulting (to my delighted bewilderment) in a series of club-DJ productions of Bollywood-style songs. 

So that's my favorite new station. Amanpreet Kaur's Bhabi Meri Gut all day, baby.

Your Pedagogy Ran Over My Demagogy

Here at Conglomerated Golden Handcuffs 'R Us Ltd, I have the skull-splitting task of translating hypertechnical database, scripting, and code requirements into standard American business English. I've been doing it for awhile, and can usually just cut-and-paste snippets from memory, and, like a vast colon (heh), break down dense technobabble into digestible brain bites.

Like any job, once you master the shortcuts and tricks (what gamers call "cheats"), work becomes more like play. For instance (and shake a geek stick at me if you need to), I have a knack for the spiky line dance of sentence diagrams - my high school comp teacher woke me to the same cool feeling with diagramming as Mom did with Scrabble. They can be more satisfying than crosswords, if you know what you're doing; plus they keep my English mechanics chops all axle greasy.

But every once in awhile, developers barf up blocks of content that make my train of thought jump track:

The product should allow filtered query of the messages + messageArgs by partially ETL'ing the message data by means of a background process (like blockstoreunhexer) that left joins from messages to the translated tables (new tables by lang or not, containing the 'final form' messages), uses that as the "todo list", and final-form-s the translations into the read-tables for filtered querying.

And if it weren't for the elegant utility of the sentence diagram, it'd take hours to sort subject from object from banana peel.

Feel free to point out my errors: that took me ten minutes to create longhand, and about 30 minutes to transpose with Dia. About half the time it took to write this post.

Listening to a loop of Ronnie Montrose's Mach1 helped.  All four and a half minutes of it.

Lemon Gloria Interviewish Thang

Lisa was interviewed by Lemmonex, and it was cool, so I played along.

To join in, follow these instructions:
1. Email me w/“Interview me.”
2. I'll email you five questions.
3. You post the interview somewhere, and link back to this post.
4. Then you also post these rules and offer to interview someone else.

I've known Lisa's family since before both of us were born. Francesca and I went to her wedding last year. Annnnnnnnd here we go:

1. I know you love to travel.  So in a fictional scenario, you and your wife have a child-free week (If you choose to - they're with relatives, who are delighted to have them), the time off work, and unlimited cash.  What do you do?

It's true I love to travel, but in the same way I love to go backpacking or have marital relations - I successfully feel love for it far more frequently than am actually successful at it. I haven't been back in Asia for 25 years. That's what I consider traveling. It may be awhile again to pick up where we left off, to be honest. Mexico's a 4 hour drive. I went to Amsterdam for 10 days. Those don't really count. What would count would be to fly to Chennai, visit Kodai Kanal, and a week later train it north to Agra, Veranasi, and Delhi. A quick email to our parents, and train west to Rajesthan - Jaipur, Jaisalmer, Jodhpur. Then fly to Kathmandu for a week, and do some trekking - like Solo Kumbu, where you went. Kala Pattar. The last week we'd stay in a house boat in Kashmir, somewhere relatively safe. That's a good solid "week" or so. Kids might wonder where we are, but relatives have them, you say? 

If they're so delighted, they can keep it up for a month or two. They got used to it, right? I'm kidding, grandparents reading this. We'd be back in 3 weeks.

2. If you could have dinner with any famous person, living or dead, who would it be?

I'd want it to be an enjoyable time, so I wouldn't inter any dead people to prop up at the table; also I can't pick someone I'm in awe of, who would make me feel like a blubbering groupie. Like Ani Difranco. She'd probably be super cool, and try to put me at ease, and actually try herself to have a good time with me. But it would fail. I'd acquire Alzheimer's, rickets and Turret's right quick. Also, even people I eat with who are considered famous secretly complain about what a pain in the ass it is to choose a restaurant that has a good vegetarian selection to accommodate me, so I'd actually suggest dinner at my house.

Ultimately, I think we'd have a pretty good time having Patton Oswalt and his wife over for dinner. I'd fix the fake-meatiest courses he'd ever seen, and get him to admit hippy abominable deathless duck, sausage and steak can be as sumptuous, filling, and tasty as anything that rat he played would aggressively push on his menu. Two loaves of fresh bread, infused with barley that I'd brew a beer with specifically for the meal; and a homemade oaked-up Californian red. Tiramisu. Plus we would get lit the f*ck up after, more likely than not. Just to take the edge off of the gig - someone like Patton obliged by this question to eat dinner with someone like me.

3. Imagine yourself on The Daily Show.  What are you famous for?  What is Jon Stewart interviewing you about?

I'd be invited because of the speed at which I rose to fame - simply by writing and recording songs with my laptop for the web, I sold millions of downloads without performing once on stage, like an actual legitimate musician. Plus all my novels. And movies I wrote, directed, produced and starred in. Oh, and I cured malaria while brokering the permanent Israel-Palestine Peace Accord. Then he would hire me during the interview, while we're on a roll here. As Bill Hicks said, "why don't you pretend? You get paid more than me, you fantasize."

4. How has having children changed your view of the world?  Has it changed how you see yourself in the world?

Before switching to English, I was going for an Education degree, and worked at a preschool during most of my college years (I never actually graduated, of course, slacker I am). Same school Francesca went to for kindergarten and summer camp. Teaching young kids and training with child experts changed my understanding of the purpose of the world, and how we're supposed to act in it. I feel lucky for the people who taught me how to get a head start on early childhood ed, now that Parenting's who I am. All the choices made about work, friendships, family events-everything I do is for the kids. Which for me is an improvement, because I didn't lead a very safe or uniquely interesting life before them. I will say that I bust my ass to score software and engineering gigs solely because they pay well, and I probably wouldn't if I didn't feel I had to. So that's a nice perk when I'm drooling over a new toy or $15 microbrew.

Jodie insists that my life hasn't changed that much, meaning I still can visit my friends' houses, go to a pub, see the occasional band, and all the stuff she can't because of bedtime with The Boobs (her boobs). Not that I do any of those but once or twice a month - just that I can. Truth is, today I'd be able to stave off an infarction for about a week living like I did in my 20s and 30s. And though still an asshole, getting older I feel relieved I didn't turn out to be the old broken-down asshole I would've been without kids.

Having daughters saved my fatherhood. I don't know how my parents raised my brother and me. I can't tell you how it feels  like, watching my capacity for love expand every year, as my kids and marriage grow older. I'd probably have lots of love in my life without them, but I can't imagine living with that trifle amount, when I hold the two up. I bow down a hundred little ways every day for every woman in my house. I have a great appreciation for, and sympathize to pity with, my parents for raising us two boys. We were terrible, smelly, violent, reckless, rude young males in their life.

My daughters can be hellions, but they live in a world of pastels and lace and makeup and fairies and horses. They're in constant conversation, and they love us actively; they're peacemakers; they listen. I'm almost ashamed how easy it is to raise them. 

I don't know who I'd be without my children. Sometimes I work really f*cking hard at it, and some days it just comes about, for free, but in the end I got what I wanted. Jodie says she agrees. All that feels pretty good, most of the time. How has it changed me? I don't know, I'm not that interested in the person I'd be otherwise. Compared to him, I kind of win.

5. If you had to choose a flavor of ice cream that most fits your personality, what kind do you think you would be?  Feel free to make one up if necessary.

Bhang ki thandai gulab jamun.

Pipie and Toots Paint Hands

Scout is almost 4, and Piper's around 2.

Last Poem of John Updike

Requiem
It came to me the other day:
Were I to die, no one would say,
'Oh, what a shame! So young, so full
Of promise - depths unplumbable!
Instead, a shrug and tearless eyes
Will greet my overdue demise;
The wide response will be, I know,
'I thought he died a while ago.'
For life's a shabby subterfuge,
And death is real, and dark, and huge.
The shock of it will register
Nowhere but where it will occur.

Vonnegut. David Foster Wallace. Mailer. Updike. They're coming a little fast and furious for my comfort, lately. Too many goddamn dead writers, and it's kind of freaking me out a little.

"What's Up, Higgins?"

My cousin Stevie. He's been a writer and producer at SNL for about 20 years. He'll be the announcer for Jimmy Fallon in March, when he replaces Conan. Mom sent me this - she may be proud of her sons, but she also loves her nephews. I actually didn't know his middle name is Eugene, and although this clip is funny, to me that's way more funny.

Bonus trivia: like my kids, Jimmy's dad worked for IBM.

Best. New. President. Ever.

A guy I worked with at Siemens commented on the inaugural, "Let see what you're saying over the next 4 years..." As in, "you're overfreakingjoyed now, but just wait."

My first thought was, Who cares?  Sure are a lot of people who agree that George Walker Bush was the single worse president in American history. 

But don't take their (or my) word for it: Google it yourself.

Like Obama, George II went to Harvard (his application to UT Law School was rejected). But unlike Obama, up into his forties George was just another hard-partying trust fund baby. George senior put him in charge of some of his oil businesses, which paid him huge salaries before they failed. Then he bought a baseball team. When his father lost the presidential election, his family forced him to run for Texas governor. Karl Rove ran the campaign, defeating Ann Richards 53%-46%. Over the next 16 years, as the puppet of racketeers, sycophants, and war profiteers, he drove the most powerful nation on Earth over a cliff, down into our worse economic crisis since the depression.

Our current president has a JD from Harvard, was president of the Harvard Law Review, taught constitutional law for 12 years at the U of Chicago Law School, was a civil rights attorney, and served on the board of directors of the Chicago Lawyers' Committee for Civil Rights Under Law and the Center for Neighborhood Technology. Before serving in the senate, he and his wife aimed their careers at addressing poverty, unfunded public education, and job creation.

We just lived through the last days of Nixon's zombies, surrounded by National Lampoon frat boys running amok. Do you really think someone like Obama will make things worse? Really? Not really. Living in Austin, I know people who know the Bushes personally. They love 'em. George is certainly a fool, but I'm probably a fool too for thinking something extraordinary just happened - foolish for not being cynical about my very young daughters' looming future. 

To mangle Blake, "If a fool shouts his foolishness long and loud enough, he becomes wise." 

Obamanos.

One of Uncle Shannon's Christmas Gifts - Laurelwood Vinter Varmer

Got me a bottle from the Laurelwood brewpub. See, in Oregon, microbrewers can just bottle their beer and sell it to people. Texas microbrewers aren't allowed to do that, because Texas beer laws are written by gangsters the Alcohol Wholesalers Association. 

This marvelous winter ale had a heft to it - massive malt profile, with weighted chocolate and caramel mouthfeel. Weighing in at only 6.4% ABV, compared to common seasonals she was easy on the head while doing calesthenics in the mouth. 

I got all brewered up for the session: donned my St. Patricks of Texas Brewer's Supply Hat, and my Austin Homebrew pint glass (with "Make Your Own Damn Beer" etched in the bottom). Then I brewed a batch while drinking it.

Laurelwood Brewing Co. took the gold in the Munich Helles catagory, last GABF.  One of my favorite styles, and hard to get right. The Fredericksburg Brewing Co. is the only American brewery I know that really nails it - then again, their street signs are in German.

I loved it. Can you tell? My brother rocks.

The Esteemed Senator from Minnesota: You, Al Franken.

Nearly 3 decades ago, a young Midwestern writer came on Saturday Night Live and spoke the following. I remember seeing it in 7th grade on a black-and-white TV in Iowa, and thinking, "he looks kinda gay, but he's funny." I've read all his books except the latest (Rush Limbaugh is a Big Fat Idiot I got on tape for the car).

That's right. I believe we're entering what I like to call the Al Franken Decade. Oh, for me, Al Franken, the 80's will be pretty much the same as the 70's. I'll still be thinking of me, Al Franken. But for you, you'll be thinking more about how things affect me, Al Franken. When you see a news report, you'll be thinking, "I wonder what Al Franken thinks about this thing?", "I wonder how this inflation thing is hurting Al Franken?" And you women will be thinking, "What can I wear that will please Al Franken?", or "What can I not wear?"

You know, I know a lot of you out there are thinking, "Why Al Franken?" Well, because I thought of it, and I'm on TV, so I've already gotten the jump on you. So, I say let's leave behind the fragmented, selfish 70's, and go into the 80's with a unity and purpose. That's what I think. I'm Al Franken. Jane?

But you want funny and biting to the bone, there's no peer to his debate with Ann Coulter at the University of Judaism's Public Lecture Series in  2006. The transcript is here. Mmmm-WAH. Umami, down to the last word.

Oh, and congrats, Al. You earned it. No finer Democratic-Farmer-Labor Senator in Congress, that's what I think. Jane?