June 2009 Archives

OK, maybe it's more like the Junieth, but still, it's not July yet. And how have I spent the first month of the summer? 

Fairly productively. I worked with three of my colleagues to devise a community orientation program for the fall--one designed to promote civil behavior in our students, faculty, and administrators--and presented our proposal to the administration.

I've driven Ian & Dixon all over the frakkin' state.

I've read a whole kaboodle of Fabian Nicieza's Cable & Deadpool comics, which (at least for the first four collections) were surprisingly enjoyable.  Perhaps because both characters were created at the height of the Nineties' attempts to out-Miller Frank Miller, and because both were co-created by one of comics' most successful and least fundamentally sound artists, Rob "I Can't Draw Feet!" Liefeld (who also has trouble drawing... um... other things), I was afraid, very afraid, to read the book.  But our friend Carrie kept pushing it on us, and since she's an entirely wise and reasonable comics critic (aside from her inexplicable fondness for Dazzler), I gave it a shot. And thanks to Nicieza's ability to keep Deadpool's "The Fourth Wall Is Only a Guideline" schtick working, it's largely hilarious... for about 27 issues.  And then the Continuity Cops come along and try to cram the book into the ongoing cross-universe Civil War saga and the whole thing starts to sag, and then eventually collapse.  But worth it, if only for Deadpool's ongoing fascination with a) Bea Arthur, and b) Marvel Girl's classic green mini-dress costume.

Oh, and I've rewritten my novel.

A slight exaggeration at this point, I suppose.  There are some scenes that still have to be written in the first place, and some that have to be cut, and a few that still have to be altered to match the additions/subtractions, and then I have to put them all together. ("It's not just a matter of the number of words. Getting them in the right order is just as important." --John Cleese, "A Great Actor")

But the point is, the ones that had to be rewritten HAVE been rewritten, and I'm pretty sure I already know what needs to be written.  It's coming.  It really is.

"Any day now. Any day now now." --XTC, "It's Nearly Africa"


4:36 PM

*I'm celebrating Father's Day with two new presents, Elvis Costello's new Nashville/acoustic album Secret, Profane and Sugarcane and Robyn Hitchcock's rarities collection Shadow Cat, as well as a pot of wife-brewed coffee, bagels from Panera (sesame seed w/cream cheese as the entree, with Cinnamon Crunch for dessert), and a pair of offspring who are more or less awake and responsive.

*I like Robert Kirkman's work on Invincible quite a bit; I'd say it's arguably the best original super-hero series of the last decade.  (Brian K. Vaughan's Runaways would be my other candidate.)  It's bright and interesting and full of intriguing characters whose motivations are different from one another, but whose interactions never seem forced. Even when he's working with concepts that are pretty well-examined, Kirkman never seems to just be going through the motions.

So why is his work on Ultimate X-Men so dull?

Is it just that the characters aren't his, so he doesn't feel he can examine them as deeply or change them as much? Is it that he keeps trying to work in new versions of old characters, rather than exploring the possibilities of the characters already in the book?  Is it just that Salvador Larroca's art is dull enough to rub off on him?  I don't know the answer, but after reading the most recent UXM collection, Apocalypse, I'm really, really glad that I checked it out of the library instead of buying it.

*I took a trip around the WFS campus yesterday with a couple of visitors from the Audubon Society of Northern Virginia. Alas, the weather was against us--very grey, which spoiled the visibility, very humid, which spoiled the comfort, and often rainy, which spoiled the use of optics.  Still, Carol, Jay and I had a good stroll through the woods near the school entrance, hearing (but never seeing) both a Yellow-billed Cuckoo and an Ovenbird, neither of whom I'd ever heard there.  The former I've logged only down by the Rapidan River, while I've never come across an Ovenbird on campus at all. Carol also heard what turned out to be the year's first Great Crested Flycatcher. After 45 minutes or so we pulled up stakes and drove down to the river valley, where the mist was thick and the humidity even worse, but we were able to hear a few more interesting species calling, including a Northern Parula Warbler and an Acadian Flycatcher, and we were able to lay eyes on on Orchard Oriole, a family of Eastern Wood Pee-wees, and a lone Purple Martin winging over the river. Not an ideal outing, but a pleasant one.

*After a long delay, I finally decided that my guarded attitude toward Will Ferrell might be preventing me from enjoying a good comedy, so I picked up the library's copy of Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. The boys had both seen it already, but Kelly and I hadn't seen it at all, and we were completely delighted. One surprise was that Ron was actually a somewhat sympathetic character, which made his idiocy more tolerable. The other surprise, however, and the one which consistently laid us out in hysterics, was Steve Carrell.  As Brick Tamland, he manages to steal nearly every scene he's in, whether it's by yelling "Loud noises!" to contribute to an argument, brandishing a hand grenade during a melee, or confessing "I ate a big red candle" during a recap of a boys' night.  We rewound the disc and watched almost every Carrell line over again before going on to the next scene.  "I'm riding a big furry tractor!"

*Thing One has gone back to work on the WFS grounds crew, a job he had last summer and greatly enjoyed.  Unfortunately, he has not yet gotten his driver's license, meaning someone has to get him to campus for work by 6:00 a.m. every day. So far, that someone is me. I've been using the mornings to write, which is a good thing, but unfortunately, I haven't yet adjusted to the need for going to bed earlier. I'll be working on that this week.

*I've also been hitting the gym regularly--four times last week--and am hoping to keep that a regular part of the routine for the next few months, but it hasn't made me any more alert during those days when I've gotten up at 5:40 and got only five hours of sleep the night before.

*All that aside, I've been hitting the book pretty hard--the novel, that is, currently going by the working title A Raven for Doves.  I finished a first draft of it several years back, but I knew it wasn't quite there yet, so I deliberately set it aside to let it ferment and did a little reading--a trick I've found helpful in the past.  When I first hit a barrier on this book, it was reading John Gardner's The Art of Fiction that spurred me to clamber over it and head for the finish line. This time, however, it wasn't so much a how-to book as one that simply showed me a way out of a problem I'd created for myself: Margaret Atwood's wonderful science-fiction novel Oryx and Crake.  (And if there's anyone out there who's even attempting to argue that O&C is not SF, kindly pick up your "Genre Bigot" badge from the concierge on your way out.)  The first 100 pages of Raven have now been adjusted to their necessary new form, though there are still a few bits that will need to be added.  Now I'm into the second section of the book, though, and that will require a more comprehensive rewrite--but I know what I've got to do.  It won't be a quick hike, but I feel like I've got a map now.


10:53 AM

Though I try to update this thing every three or four days, longtime readers will recognize that I haven't been posting at anything close to that rate of late.  Apologies are of course due, but the press of real life has been nothing short of astonishing this spring, and now that we're officially into my summer break, I thought you'd enjoy a chance to see a little bit of what's been going on.  Yes, there are pictures.  Let's begin with a few nature photos, shall we?


Here are some of the local redbud trees going full tilt.  For some reason, Kelly objects to their name, claiming they're purple.



THESE are purple.


Red-bellied Woodpecker posing helpfully for me.


Thing Two (L) as Thurston Wheelis, along with castmate Dennis W. (R, behind mustache) as Arles Struvie in Woodberry's production of Greater Tuna.


Meanwhile, Thing One was busy with his Blue Ridge Virtual Governor's School project, which focused on the creation of Shenandoah National Park involved his doing community service and interning in the park.  Here, he was assisting a ranger with a bird of prey presentation, helping him get a Barred Owl (above) and Eastern Screech Owl from the raptor center to a public showing.  As you can tell, it was a bit foggy that morning.


Out in our carport, a pair of Eastern Phoebes (whom Kelly, hearing the birds were insect eaters, promptly dubbed the Renfields) set up homemaking atop the overhead light fixture, producing three nestlings who have all apparently fledged and started hanging around the yard.


And of course, the big event: on June 6th, Orange County High School sent the class of 2009 off into the world.


A big hug from Mom for the graduate.


...and a big hug from Thing Two as well.


So.  What's up with you?










1:47 PM

Whew.  The missing brontosaurus head has been located:


Investigators from the Durham Police Department stated they found the fixture in the woods near Preston Andrews Road sometime around noon today. According to Durham Police, it is believed to be a high school prank.

"Prank"?  Cutting off an innocent statue's head and dumping it in the woods is a "prank"?

I'll tell you about a prank.

On Monday, the Orange County (Va.) High School Class of 2009 executed Operation: Land Whale, in which the seniors transformed the small grassy area at the center of the school's traffic circle--a space that might be about 30 feet in diameter--into a beach.

After blue tarps were laid over the grass, a large quantity of sand was dumped on top of the tarps, thus rendering the area beachlike.  Artificial palm trees were set up on the sand, while coolers full of soft drinks, a small volleyball net, and a pickup bed full of water were placed on or near the "beach" to add to the effect.  To cap the effect, a grill was brought out for cooking hot dogs.

Nothing was damaged, nothing was taken, everyone had fun, and the school is now in possession of several useful tarps and a large quantity of sand for construction or other projects.

That, dear readers, is a prank.


11:06 AM

Oh, sure I could tell you about the arrival of summer (Indigo Buntings and Eastern Kingbirds are back! Also, I'm done with school.) or the rush of events leading up to Thing One's graduation this Saturday (I believe we're receiving all the grandparents, one uncle, one great-aunt, a small knot of cousins, and several family friends), but all of that pales before this morning's horrific news:


The brontosaurus at the Museum of Life and Science has been decapitated.




Yes, Durham NC's finest example of late-Sixties paleontological reconstruction has been assaulted by perpetrators unknown, its neck stripped bare and its head removed for god knows what purposes.

This is not mere vandalism, people.  This is an assault on childhood itself--namely that of every kid in central North Carolina born in the last 40 years.  I spent many an afternoon wandering the Dinosaur Trail of what was then referred to as the Children's Museum.  After I started dating Kelly, I took her to the museum for an outing.  When the facility expanded across the road to include new exhibits on NC wildlife, a miniature train, and even outdoor zoo exhibits containing bears and birds of prey, I still thought of it as "the place with the dinosaurs."  And after my own kids were born in the early 90s, I made sure they got to see the museum AND the various saurians standing in the 20th-century trees.

In a world where wars are being fought and people are being shot in church for political reasons, I recognize that this is a minor incident, a mere property crime.  But when that property means so much to you, and when it has done so for so long, it's hard not to feel the urge to scream, take up a cudgel, and venture out into the streets in search of vigilante justice.  In fact, I feel a good bit like Tim Kreider did when the two-headed turtle got stolen... (click on "Archives" and scroll to August 27, 2008.)

So vandals, I say unto you:  watch the skies.  Gamera is out there somewhere, and he's pissed.




7:49 AM