Nobody to Kill

I got my first car at age fourteen, a $40 Volkswagen Beetle. By fifteen, I had graduated to power-sliding our 1972 Ford pick-up truck, equipped with a cool “suicide knob” across frozen parking lots. But that was in the frozen north and not in heavily trafficked San Francisco.

While I was growing up, my father had acted as the town’s driver’s education instructor. I always thought this was a great position as we always got to have these great cars that had two sets of brakes, the normal driver’s side one and an extra one on the passenger side. When I was young, he would let me stop the car. I thought that was great fun.

This weekend I took my sixteen-year-old driving for the first time, in San Francisco. As he is just practicing for his driver’s license, he’s still a bit shaky behind the wheel. During this driving practice, I found that I could have used such a passenger-side brake because the psychosomatic effect of me continuously trying to push the passenger-side brake caused my right leg to fatigue.

But the lesson went off without a hitch because in preparation for the lesson, I had thought carefully of where I should take him to practice. I finally settled on….a cemetery. What better place to learn to drive because at the cemetery, there is no-one to kill.

Run the Rapids

Being from Minnesota and living in California, now is the time of year I start to miss the winters…for at least a day or two. This longing for the snow and cold brings back memories of some of the winter activities of the long Minnesota winters; activities like snowmobile skipping.

Now riding a snow-machine is great fun, especially when you are racing across lakes, cruising at high speed through tree-infested forests and, of course, on the “poker runs”, a drinkers game where you ride your machine from bar to bar, obtaining one card per stop, all while drinking famously. On these poker runs, people often run into mail trucks or barb-wire fences by the time they complete a hand of seven-card stud. It's all great fun.

It is during these wise and meaningful pursuits, some genius came up with the sport of Snowmobile Skipping. Snowmobile Skipping is a competitive sport where you ride your snowmobile across open water. What better idea that to locate that one piece of water that isn’t frozen and then try to ride across it?

A while back, one of my bright spark friends decided that riding through the lush landscape and 100mph runs across flat, open lakes was no longer sufficient to get his game on. He decided that he should “run the rapids” on the Moosehead river in Mooselake, Minnesota. He sunk. Apparently calm water is optimal for this insane sport and rapids do not typically possess this characteristic.

We found him shivering and nearly hypothermic at the door of our house. Even better, our German Shepard was barking furiously and trying to attack the strange-acting, snow-suit-and-helmet-wearing alien. He lived to ride another day.

Sometimes I wonder why I left Minnesota. Maybe I’ll go watch Fargo again, just to refresh my memory.

Fairies & Fantasies

For the first time in my life, I am proudly displaying multiple personas. So far, I have acted as the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus and soon, I will have to be a fairy, the Tooth Fairy.

I look forward to being the tooth fairy because it allows a lot of room for creative freedom. As a parent, there aren’t many constraints in the Tooth Fairy fantasy. Most importantly, there is no commercialism in the drama. There are never commercial advertisements; there are no Tooth Fairy helpers, and no magical animals helping to place the lost teeth under the pillow. It may be our last, pure, un-commercialized, fantasy holiday. I also get to dress anyway I choose when I play the Tooth Fairy.

But it is now Christmas time. As the proud owner of a hyper-active five-year-old, I have been barraged with a flurry of questions about the science of Santa. “Daddy, why is he fat?” she asks. “Because he eats all the cookies little girls leave for him”, I answer. Won’t the fire burn him up in the chimney? she asks. “No, he’s magic like Harry Potter”, I answer.

I do wonder what kind of answers parents provided in the pre-Harry Potter days.

One such parent, Dudley Herschback, performed a detailed analysis of the act of Santa going up and down the chimney. “Italian scientist Galileo Galilei examined the motion of bodies falling under the constant acceleration of gravity. Based upon Galileo’s results, Santa's descent would take about 1.4 seconds at 30 MPH”.

Nice. I’ll bet he has well-adjusted kids.

Another set of research, The Science of Santa provides an analytical view of the physics behind the Santa phenomena. “Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with good children has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house.”

I hope no-one starts to over-analyze the Tooth Fairy.

Merry Christmas!

The Thinnest Book List

• The Harder I Work, The Luckier I Get. By Chad Hurley and Steve Chen (youtube founders)

  

• The Joy of Sunni Cooking. By Muqtada al-Sadr

  

• Managing America in Three Easy Steps. By Kofi Annan

  

• Google Earth Hacks. By George W. Bush

  

• Synagogue Etiquette. By Mel Gibson

  

• Flying Economy: Tips & Hints. By Henry Paulson

  

• Why I Did It. By O.J. Simpson

  

• Germ Tolerance. By Howard Hughes

  

• Succulent Squirrel Receipes. By Bullwinkle J. Moose

  

• Reader Suggestions?

  

Weakening The Species

"He takes only what he needs, nothing more . . . yet for his great size and strength he lives in peace with other creatures. The moose uses his size and power not to dominate but to protect, not to spoil but to preserve. He is a fierce protector, a loyal companion, and a generous provider who brings comfort and security to those within his defending circle." credit

Although the above passage would also be an apt description of über lawyer and faithful reader Howard Hughes, I find it a perfect description of my favorite topic, the moose. And as I certainly trend moose, I figured that as I hadn’t blogged about moose for over a week, I should be keeping my “base” happy.

Albino Moose

The sighting of an albino moose in the Norwegian province of Østfold has sparked a debate about whether the animal should be shot or spared. Scandinavia is the home to 450,000 moose and one albino is usually among them. Hunting season, which began this week, will see one-third of the herd being hunted, and among them will be this beast.

Some weak, non-hunters in Østfold (I believe there are four) have called on hunters to spare the white moose, according to the Norwegian broadcasting service NRK. But the head of the regional wildlife commission isn't making any promises:

"As long as there are people out there who don't agree that the animal should live, I can't guarantee that the animal will survive"

Especially not while a descendent of Harald Bluetooth and Eric the Red is in the house. Morten Brommdal is manager of the animal section at the Institute for Molecular Bioscience at the University of Oslo. Here's what Morten has to say about the situation:

"It is surely entertaining to have an albino moose wandering in the woods, but in purely breeding terms, it is not right to let it live.

That so many people want the white moose to live is an emotional issue. But if it is spared, ... soon we might have two, three, four or five albino moose in these wooded areas, something which in the long run can weaken the herd," says Brommdal, who pointed out that an albino moose is really a kind of genetic mistake."

Whether the moose is brown, grey or white, a moose is a moose is a moose. Que Sera, Sera (Whatever Will Be, Will Be)

The Boogie Man

My thirty-something year old sister recently started dating a new guy. As I hadn’t met the previous two or three boyfriends and had tuned out of the whole process, I was slow to hear the news that he was a pro hockey player.

As after a twelve year absence, I recently re-started my hockey hobby, I found this to be a fascinating turn of events. I couldn’t wait to meet him. Maybe even have a few beers together around the campfire. And then I watched the video.

After watching the whole flick, I felt like I had been beaten-up. My face hurt just watching the video. I immediately emailed my sister.

I was very concerned that some night, after a few drinks, I would make an irreverent but innocent comment and would then all of the sudden have a six-foot-seven, twenty-something-year-old on my chest. She assured me, NHL goons are nice people and opinioned that I had been out of Minnesota for too long.

I wish I could say that I’ve since met him, he’s a nice guy and he never punches me but I have not yet met him. And I still plan on calling him the booger man.

[Dear Mr. Boogaard please note that I did not use the terms bugger, nor did I use buggar, either of which certainly would have justified an ass-whooping].

To the New Year!

Nietzsche meets G.I. Joe

"Extreme positions are not succeeded by moderate ones,
but by contrary extreme positions."

Every once and awhile, you come across some web site that just makes you laugh out loud. Recently, I found two mashups that are worth mentioning.

Nietzsche Family Circus

The Nietzsche Family Circus pairs a randomized Family Circus cartoon with a randomized Friedrich Nietzsche quote.

And this site has a lot of content, some are funny and some are just plain weird: GI Joe

Eunuch’s Get No Respect

I am the first to admit that I am no theologian. I am not a biblical scholar but I do find the whole study fascinating. For example, I recently read a post about different biblical phrases that when each is taken out of context, as they are in this post, become very disturbing.

Ten Verses Never Discussed

Within this post are biblical verses that are seemingly never discussed. Take, for instance, this verse:

“No one whose testicles are crushed or whose male organ is cut off shall enter the assembly of the Lord.” Deuteronomy 23:1 ESV

Now even taken out of context, I am most fascinated by this declaration. If I get my fricken balls crushed, I can no longer go to church? When I definitely need it the most?

Eunuch

“A eunuch is a castrated man; the term usually refers to those castrated in order to perform a specific social function, as was common in many societies of the past.”

Common in many societies? Thank god the world is now flat.

But the funniest part of this whole tale is that when you do a Google search for “eunuch image”, this blokes’ image comes up:

The “O” in Oracle

Tonight I had drinks with my friend, Pundista. She always spurs my imagination and gives me inspiration and ideas; a great attribute in a friend. Tonight was Obama night; her current passion is to work for the Obama campaign.

Now mind you, there is no Obama campaign at the moment. But what better time to apply for a position than before the company is actually created. Just think, employee #1 at Microsoft, before Bill and Paul. Before Googols’ Sergey and Larry! She could be the “O”(bama) in Oracle, even before Larry!

Now I, for full disclosure, consider myself apolitical, I have read Mr. Obama’s bio and neither of his books, I have never met him, and I think he’s rather young to be president being only 4 years older than myself. This is especially true when I consider that he’d be the same age as faithful readers Bob, Chief Fife, M. Slither, and George Clooney. And there’s no way I’d support any of them to be prez of the US.

Minority Census

“Barack Obama was born on August 4th, 1961, in Hawaii to Barack Obama, Sr. and Ann Dunham. He is the only African American now serving in the U.S. Senate.

• According to the 2000 U.S. Census, approximately 30 percent of the population currently belongs to a racial or ethnic minority group.
• In 2000, there were approximately 280M people and 84M minorities in the US.
• In 2000, the Latino population in the U.S. grew to 37 million.
• In July 2001 the black population increased to 36.1 million.

Rove Wins The Lottery!

So do you think Barack Obama has a chance to be the President of the U.S?

"As people do better, they start voting like Republicans - unless they have too much education and vote Democratic, which proves there can be too much of a good thing." Karl Rove

• Total voter registration in the November 2004 election was 142 million citizens or 50% of the reported US population.
• In 1999, U.S. citizens spent $36B on lottery tickets.

This works out to more than one lottery ticket purchased for every U.S. citizen and more than 2.5 for every U.S. voter. So what’s the solution to Obama’s “my base sucks” problem?

Lottery Tickets For Votes

“In a bid to increase voter participation in Arizona, Dr. Mark Osterloh is spearheading a ballot initiative that would automatically make each person who casts a vote eligible to win a million dollars in unclaimed state lottery money.”

“Under the plan, the $1 million awarded to one randomly selected voter after each election would come from unclaimed Arizona Lottery prize money. A voter could get one entry in the drawing for voting in the primary and another for the general election.”

My prediction: Barack Hussein Obama-san needs to emulate the lottery-ticket-for-your-vote campaign in Arizona in order to win the 2008 election.

How To Elope

When I was about to get married, I had the great idea of planning a wedding about 15,000 miles from where I was living. I was living in Hong Kong and decided Duluth, in Minnesota, would be an appropriate place to host and toast our marriage. I also had the bright idea of having the ceremony in the Glensheen Mansion. All my great ideas survived until my wife (to be) heard the whole story.

The Glensheen Mansion is a beautiful old place on the shores of Lake Superior built 99 years ago with a fortune made in timber and mining by Chester A. Congdon.

When I was young, my dad used to tell me tales of my grandfather working as a carpenter in the place. There were always tales of gold faucets and elevators for the horse-pulled carriages. All great, fantastic, visions of hidden doors and lurking secrets. And then in 1968 they filmed Rosemary’s Baby at the mansion. That certainly changed things.

For those of you who may have missed the Roman Polansky tale, Rosemary’s Baby is a quaint story about a woman who discovers that her pregnancy is actually part of a satanic ritual. “The film explores human interactions in a disturbing and negative manner, in the circumstances that take place on a daily basis, occurrences that we take for granted - the polite handshakes of neighbours.”

And then in 1977, an intruder entered Glensheen, Before leaving with a basketful of stolen jewelry, the intruder used a satin pillow to smother Chester’s last surviving daughter, Elisabeth Congdon, after killing the heiress’s nurse, by beating her with a candlestick. All, crimes set in motion by a hastily hand-written will penned just days before the killings. Elisabeth’s son-in law, Roger Caldwell, was convicted of two counts of murder. Her adopted daughter Marjorie was acquitted.

The drama, the terror, the Clue-like “candlestick in the library” mystery. Just the perfect place for a wedding.

We eloped.

A Predilection Toward Moose

LHCB seems to receive a disproportionate number of re-directs from search queries looking for moose, moose accidents, moose riding stories or some other moose-type query. Of all the people that have read this blog in the past year, 8 of the top 22 most popular queries that result in a LHCB re-direct have the word moose in them. Almost 30% of my readership!

I guess I didn’t exactly realize I had some sort of predisposition toward the big animal. I guess predisposition seems rash, unless you consider I grew up in a town called Moose Lake, went to Moose Lake High School, which was situated on Moose Head lake that was in turn, fed by Moose Head river. My dad, Aristotle, shot a moose once. I ate moose, saw them, got scare by them, ran from them, read about them in the newspaper and saw them swimming by in the local lake. My grandfather even ran a Moose Club at one point in his life.

I may actually have some moose-oriented condition. Moos-itis or something.

Showing a strong-second and coming in at number five on the yearly search list, people search on my ducks are hallugenigenic / duck dander story. There are definitely lots of folks out there searching for that next buzz on Google.

But overall, I definitely trend moose.