So, while looking for something unrelated, I found this fantastic video of the Tetris theme song, performed by an orchestra in The Netherlands.
Tata by Valérie Perrin
6 days ago
Showing posts with label flashback. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flashback. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 03, 2013
Tetris theme, orchestral
As my sister or husband can attest, my very favorite video game growing up was Tetris. We had the ColecoVision gaming set back in the early 80s — all my friends had Atari, but my dad went with the "superior" (in his opinion) brand. And the games were pretty amazing! In addition to Tetris, we had Zaxxon, Donkey Kong, DigDug, Ms. PacMan, Q*bert's Qubes, The Smurfs, and Time Pilot. My sister beat me in most other games, but I'd like to recall that we were well-matched in Tetris, maybe with me having more high scores out of plain persistence.
So, while looking for something unrelated, I found this fantastic video of the Tetris theme song, performed by an orchestra in The Netherlands.
So, while looking for something unrelated, I found this fantastic video of the Tetris theme song, performed by an orchestra in The Netherlands.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Birthday Girl Rosie, 2003–2011
From the photo archives:
Rosalie's birthday parties from 1st to 9th
Rosalie's birthday parties from 1st to 9th
Rosie's 1st birthday, 2003
Rosie's party this year was a combination birthday for her and Monkeyrotica, as well as a housewarming for us. We bought our home in late August of 2003. Three celebrations at once were very confusing for our guests!
Rosie's 2nd birthday, 2004
A house party birthday celebration for Rosie and Monkeyrotica with lots of friends and family. Actually, all of Rosie's birthday parties were shared with her dad until she turned seven.
Rosie's 3rd birthday, 2005
A house party with friends and neighbors.
Rosie's 4th birthday, 2006
Another large house party with lots of birthday sharing: Rosalie, Monkeyrotica, Liam O., and Jim S. were all represented. Sorry, couldn't find a birthday cake photo, this one will have to do, from a bowling alley party a few days before the party.
Rosie's 5th birthday, 2007
A large house party with 75 guests, 2 cakes and tons of fun!
Rosie's 6th birthday, 2008
A large house party, lots of guests and a home-made chocolate cake.
Rosie's 7th birthday, 2009
A family birthday event at Medieval Times, then a small sleepover party with a select group of girlfriends (and cupcakes).
Rosie's 8th birthday, 2010
An ice skating party with friends and a special strawberry-flavored maneki neko cake.
Rosie's 9th birthday, 2011
Rosie had a bowling party with friends and a rainbow cake the day before her birthday, then a birthday lunch with family at El Paso restaurant today. The ice cream was compliments of the staff! They sang to her and let her wear this special hat.
Friday, September 23, 2011
More of the weird and random...
A few years ago, I blogged about how some of my friends are connected to each other in bizarre, coincidental ways. I had a similar experience last night that made my head spin. I've written about how I met my husband, Monkeyrotica, through a personals ad, but not about why I was looking at personals ads in the first place. That's a tale that I was reminded of last night while I found myself face-to-face with the wife of my ex-boyfriend. Here's that story, from the very beginning.
I first met Andy when I was home for the summer after my freshman year of college. I was in a new place, didn't know anyone, so I was hanging out with my sister and her high school pals. He was nearby with a group of friends not in their clique; I have no memory of why we started talking, but we did and exchanged phone numbers. We had similar taste in music and in movies, but that's as far as it went. He was crazy for antique cars, performed in karate competitions, and talked up his experiences as the star of his HS distance cycling team. He was charming, charismatic, and came from new money; his father had built a local empire and his son got the spoils. There were certain personality issues that made it a summer romance and not a long-term one, in my mind: he was extremely anti-social, for one thing. He discouraged hanging out with his friends (bunch of "jerks") and had no interest in meeting the few I had—didn't want to "share me" on our dates. He never introduced me to his parents (we entered through his "wing" of his house without disturbing anyone) and when he came to take me on a date, he would honk from the driveway rather than make small talk with mine. This drove my parents to dislike him intensely.
Anyway, when I left for college after break I'd forget about him while busy with academics; when I returned for the summer he would start phoning again. I'd ignore his calls for a while, but once the boredom set in, I'd call back and we'd start up again. After I graduated from college and came home to stay, he was elated at first. He excitedly talked about having more time with me and started planning for a relationship. I played along for a little while, but really knew it was going nowhere—we had too little in common. My dad started taking an interest, negatively, and I found pages of personals ads left on the dining table after I came home from dates, with red circles drawn on good prospects. After a "disagreement" between Andy and me, I picked up the personals and seriously considered them. I chose Monkeyrotica's ad—not one that my dad had circled. I listened to the message on his phone box (pre-Internet in 1992) phoned and left my own.
Back to today: twenty years later, Monkey and I are about to celebrate our 14th wedding anniversary and have two lovely children. Yesterday, I was out with Dash, the adorable six-year-old, at his karate practice. There was one other mom also watching her son and between poking on our iPhones, we started chatting. Her son was one of the two Jacks—the light-haired one, not the dark-haired one—an eight-year-old with a yellow belt. We'd smile at each other when one of our kids screwed up and got yelled at by the sensei. I learned Jack was an only child, but was born in the same year/month as Rosie, my gorgeous and talented older child. She lived nearby and had been in the DC area for a while, but was from Connecticut (where my family is originally from).
Our sons were paired up to spar together and I heard the sensei call out Jack's last name. Same as Andy's. I hadn't thought of him in forever, but my brain made the connection anyway. I asked, "Is there an Andrew in your family?"
"My husband," she answered. I followed up with questions about his family in case there was more than one person with that name in town, got affirmatives to all. I must have been noticeably freaking out, because she asked me, "Are you having a 'moment'?" I looked at her more closely, noticing her brown hair, brown eyes and that she was the same height and complexion as me.
I can't keep my mouth shut sometimes. I told her I used to date her husband. I asked when they first met and found that it was about 6 months after Andy and I broke up. She was my rebound? They married five years later, in the same month and year that Monkey and I were married.
Okay, so for those who are keeping track of coincidences here:
1. we both met our spouses within 6 months of breaking it off.
2. we were married the same month and year.
3. our oldest children were born the same month and year.
4. she is the same height, and has the same complexion, hair and eye color as me.
5. she and I are both originally from Connecticut, but settled in the DC area after living in other cities.
Inevitably, Andy and I are bound to cross paths at the karate studio. Perhaps we have already and I had no clue, without any context. I'm not looking forward to it, to tell the truth. I have no idea what I'd say as we didn't split on friendly terms. I needed to document this story, though—coincidences are very intriguing to me. Is there a reason that our paths are crossing again after all this time?
I first met Andy when I was home for the summer after my freshman year of college. I was in a new place, didn't know anyone, so I was hanging out with my sister and her high school pals. He was nearby with a group of friends not in their clique; I have no memory of why we started talking, but we did and exchanged phone numbers. We had similar taste in music and in movies, but that's as far as it went. He was crazy for antique cars, performed in karate competitions, and talked up his experiences as the star of his HS distance cycling team. He was charming, charismatic, and came from new money; his father had built a local empire and his son got the spoils. There were certain personality issues that made it a summer romance and not a long-term one, in my mind: he was extremely anti-social, for one thing. He discouraged hanging out with his friends (bunch of "jerks") and had no interest in meeting the few I had—didn't want to "share me" on our dates. He never introduced me to his parents (we entered through his "wing" of his house without disturbing anyone) and when he came to take me on a date, he would honk from the driveway rather than make small talk with mine. This drove my parents to dislike him intensely.
Anyway, when I left for college after break I'd forget about him while busy with academics; when I returned for the summer he would start phoning again. I'd ignore his calls for a while, but once the boredom set in, I'd call back and we'd start up again. After I graduated from college and came home to stay, he was elated at first. He excitedly talked about having more time with me and started planning for a relationship. I played along for a little while, but really knew it was going nowhere—we had too little in common. My dad started taking an interest, negatively, and I found pages of personals ads left on the dining table after I came home from dates, with red circles drawn on good prospects. After a "disagreement" between Andy and me, I picked up the personals and seriously considered them. I chose Monkeyrotica's ad—not one that my dad had circled. I listened to the message on his phone box (pre-Internet in 1992) phoned and left my own.
Back to today: twenty years later, Monkey and I are about to celebrate our 14th wedding anniversary and have two lovely children. Yesterday, I was out with Dash, the adorable six-year-old, at his karate practice. There was one other mom also watching her son and between poking on our iPhones, we started chatting. Her son was one of the two Jacks—the light-haired one, not the dark-haired one—an eight-year-old with a yellow belt. We'd smile at each other when one of our kids screwed up and got yelled at by the sensei. I learned Jack was an only child, but was born in the same year/month as Rosie, my gorgeous and talented older child. She lived nearby and had been in the DC area for a while, but was from Connecticut (where my family is originally from).
Our sons were paired up to spar together and I heard the sensei call out Jack's last name. Same as Andy's. I hadn't thought of him in forever, but my brain made the connection anyway. I asked, "Is there an Andrew in your family?"
"My husband," she answered. I followed up with questions about his family in case there was more than one person with that name in town, got affirmatives to all. I must have been noticeably freaking out, because she asked me, "Are you having a 'moment'?" I looked at her more closely, noticing her brown hair, brown eyes and that she was the same height and complexion as me.
I can't keep my mouth shut sometimes. I told her I used to date her husband. I asked when they first met and found that it was about 6 months after Andy and I broke up. She was my rebound? They married five years later, in the same month and year that Monkey and I were married.
Okay, so for those who are keeping track of coincidences here:
1. we both met our spouses within 6 months of breaking it off.
2. we were married the same month and year.
3. our oldest children were born the same month and year.
4. she is the same height, and has the same complexion, hair and eye color as me.
5. she and I are both originally from Connecticut, but settled in the DC area after living in other cities.
Inevitably, Andy and I are bound to cross paths at the karate studio. Perhaps we have already and I had no clue, without any context. I'm not looking forward to it, to tell the truth. I have no idea what I'd say as we didn't split on friendly terms. I needed to document this story, though—coincidences are very intriguing to me. Is there a reason that our paths are crossing again after all this time?
Saturday, April 02, 2011
Portrait of the Artist
her 2nd grade "living wax museum"
(complete with blue sticker "buttons" to
activate their speeches) on Friday.
Based on facts from an O'Keeffe
biography, I coached her to say,
"I burnt my early works because they
were derivative," and "I wear all black
so the critics will take me seriously."
She was excellent! Looking very
serious in this photo... She painted her
O'Keeffe-esque prop all on her own.
Tuesday, November 02, 2010
Ouija boards: paranormal or group-think?
In case you avoided the entire Ouija experience, here is how Wikipedia describes the game:
A Ouija board (possibly from the French and German words for "yes", oui and ja,[1] and usually pronounced /ˈwiːdʒiː/ in English), also known as a spirit board or talking board, is a flat board marked with letters, numbers, and other symbols, supposedly used to communicate with any spirits. It uses a planchette (small heart-shaped piece of wood) or movable indicator to indicate the spirit's message by spelling it out on the board during a séance. The fingers of the séance participants are placed on the planchette, which then moves about the board to spell out words or become physically manifest.
It was the 70s, and against her better judgment, I'm certain, my mom bought my sister and me a Ouija board. I recall relentless begging leading up to the purchase as well as personally logging many hours in the "occult" area of the Young Adult section of our local library. I wanted to know if ghosts could talk to me. I'd dutifully try to clear my mind before playing and will the spirits to come, to tell us what they knew from beyond. We'd play with friends down in our low-lit basement, asking questions of the "spirits" such as how they died, what their names were, and where they were buried. We would ask about our own futures to see if they knew what might happen in our own lives. I recall getting very creeped out, with thrilling goosebumps and chills if one of us was told that she would die young or some such thing. Sometimes, I was convinced that the spirits were pretty self-centered, only wanted to talk about themselves, refusing to answer our queries. At a family gathering, we mentioned to an extremely superstitious aunt (or very in tune with ghosts—family legend is that her house was terrifyingly haunted) that we had the game, she told us to "Never, ever touch it again! Take it and burn it when you get home! It will bring the devil to find you."
Over time, however, it seemed more likely that my strong-willed buddies were just moving the "planchette" (I never called it that, but see above) to wherever they wanted it to go, fulfilling their questions with answers they wanted. During one later game when my friends and I were getting boy-crazy, we were all asking questions about the name of who we would eventually marry. My friends were coming up with nice sounding, common guys' names, like Steve or Mark or Michael. I was hoping for a similar fortune when my turn came. Instead, the planchette kept hitting letters that didn't make any sense together, all kinds of vowels and just one consonant. It didn't look like any name I'd heard before! I gave up on the Ouija board after that. Stupid thing. Couldn't even give me a straight answer, like it had given my friends. The game languished in a closet after that, probably sold in a yard sale.
On to the soulmates part: What was the name that the spirits had come up with for my husband to be? I don't recall clearly, as a few decades have passed, but I think the letters went something like:
(Y) (A) (K) (Y) (I) (U) (O)
Damned ghosts couldn't spell. My darling husband's name is Akio.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
I Was an 11-year-old Devo Wife
It was 1981. Three of my junior-high school friends and I were obsessed with new wave music, specifically, The Police, David Bowie, Blondie, and Devo. I forget exactly how these friends and I found each other in junior high, but I recall that a little girl-scout-type non-friend from my bus stop told me that if I stayed friends with them I'd get a "bad reputation." I think I had to look that up, as I had no idea what she was talking about. It was easy enough to ignore her. My friends, sisters Mary & Judi Huff and Linda Smith, did have a bit of roughness about them, living on the poorer side of town and all coming from broken homes (Mary & Judi talked about wanting their step-father dead, regularly), but they'd befriended me, unlike the girl-scout-types, and I was drawn to their edginess and anti-mainstream attitudes.We were all crazy about Devo, reading all the liner notes, memorizing their personal info, singing their songs and memorizing the lyrics. We were from the Midwest, they were from the Midwest; there were four of us and there were four (or five, math is hard) of them; it was kismet. We each "married" a Devo member, became "spudgirls" and made ourselves the red dome hats out of cardboard. Judi was the oldest and "married" Mark Mothersbaugh, Mary got hitched to Jerry Casale, Linda wed Bob Casale, and I pled my troth to Bob Mothersbaugh. I got Bob 1, mostly because he was deemed least attractive with his long face and large nose and the other girls were all bigger than me—not much room to argue. We sang and danced around to their albums, banging into each other, and being totally goofy whenever we met up, for months. Good times.
It's 2009 and I just saw Devo on tour with some very favorite friends at the 9:30 club in DC on Sunday night. It was amazing!! Devo played fast, hard, and loud, kept the energy high and ROCKED. It was one of the best shows I've seen in a long time. The guys, all in their late-50s, performed famously, keeping the bizarre theatrics they're known for, and stunning us all with the joy they seemed to have, out on tour singing tunes from their 30-year-old album, Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo! It was glorious.
I'd told Kelly about the whole Devo marriage thing, and she jokingly told me during the show, "Your husband's held up well!" Hilariously, after Booji Boy tossed out bouncy balls during the encore song, Beautiful World, and I caught one (well, fished it off the floor), the guy standing behind me asked a non-sequitor, "Was that your wedding ring?"
Maybe it was. Maybe it was...
Friday, May 29, 2009
Hide and seek as nightmare, for me anyway.
I had a recurring dream for years that my family had gone to a beach house and we'd stayed for a week or so, which was typical for us. In my dream, I'm around 7 or 8 years old, it's the last day of our trip and I'm playing hide and seek with my sister. I decide to hide inside an old bench that has a hinged lid for storage (similar to the flickr photo I found, above).
Anyway, the way this dream always ends is that I'm hidden for a very long time, my sister doesn't find me, and I fall asleep in the bench. When I wake up, it's dark and the house is empty, I have no idea how much time has passed—maybe it's late the next day? But my family has left without me; all our suitcases are removed, the car is gone and the house is tidied up for the next renters. Abandonment nightmare anxiety swells and I wake up!
Dash found me early this morning and told me he had a bad dream: Rosie, Monkeyrotica, and I had flown off in a spaceship and had left him behind. I comforted him, reminded of my own dreams of being left behind, and told him that it must have been scary.
He said, "No, I just invisibled myself and then visibled myself on the space ship!"
"Oh," I answered, "just like Star Trek?"
"Yeah!" Dash was smiling.
Who knows what quirky issues that Dash may develop over the years to come, but here's hoping that abandonment isn't one of them. This isn't the first time that he's resolved a bad dream in his own ingenious way!
Anyway, the way this dream always ends is that I'm hidden for a very long time, my sister doesn't find me, and I fall asleep in the bench. When I wake up, it's dark and the house is empty, I have no idea how much time has passed—maybe it's late the next day? But my family has left without me; all our suitcases are removed, the car is gone and the house is tidied up for the next renters. Abandonment nightmare anxiety swells and I wake up!
Dash found me early this morning and told me he had a bad dream: Rosie, Monkeyrotica, and I had flown off in a spaceship and had left him behind. I comforted him, reminded of my own dreams of being left behind, and told him that it must have been scary.
He said, "No, I just invisibled myself and then visibled myself on the space ship!"
"Oh," I answered, "just like Star Trek?"
"Yeah!" Dash was smiling.
Who knows what quirky issues that Dash may develop over the years to come, but here's hoping that abandonment isn't one of them. This isn't the first time that he's resolved a bad dream in his own ingenious way!
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Flashback: Baby Alive!
A recent post about childhood discoveries on Dee's blog got me reminiscing. When I was 7 or 8 years old, one of Auntie M's and my playmates was the daughter of a scientist couple who both worked at the same laboratory as our dad. Debbie also had two much older brothers that teased her (and my sister and I ) mercilessly. They also challenged her intellectually, introducing her to advanced concepts and special, ahem, academic tomes that were in her parents' voluminous library.We loved hanging out at Debbie's house! I remember all sorts of food experiments that went on there (who chooses to drink "mineral water" or "rice cakes?"), I learned how to solder stained glass at her house and set the fire extinguisher off, too! Loved playing in the basement full of pinball machines, air hockey, and foosball tables. Great fun.
That is, except when Debbie's elderly, fundamentalist Christian babysitter was watching her.
I have never been kicked out of anybody's house so many times before or since. The first several times I was kicked out were for swearing. My mom's favorite swear words were "$hit!" and "juh-EEE-sus!!" and not really knowing any better, I used them like she did, you know, as "sentence enhancers." I learned from this babysitter that swear words were not universally acceptable. I got kicked to the curb. Pee, poop, boobies, butt, crap, all were kick-out words. If you had to relieve yourself, you asked to go to the "bathroom, please" not announce, "I gotta go pee!" Otherwise, don't let the door hit you in the um, "derriere." On subsequent visits I begged to stay and she gave me several second chances. The condition was that I had to keep my potty mouth clean. It was tough.
On one final occasion, Debbie was showing me her most treasured recent discovery. Her brothers had just introduced her to Grey's Anatomy. We tucked into it and found a carefully dog-eared, detailed diagram of the female reproductive system. I stored to memory the key vocabulary, especially since Debbie had recently been gifted a new semi-anatomically correct baby doll that would drink AND wet herself (the 1970's version of Baby Alive). This was cool!! I had, had, had! to tell the babysitter about it! I wanted to prove that I could be genteel. But, how? And without using those nasty, vulgar words, like pee-pee or poop? I vowed to clean up my act and impress this prudish sitter. I practiced what I would say and checked Grey's Anatomy one more time. I was ready.
"Mrs. Sitter?" I said, "Look at this! This baby doll drinks water, she really does! And then the water goes all the way through and comes out of her v@gin@! See?"
I was thereafter banned. Permanently banned. I'm just glad she didn't clean my mouth with soap. (She certainly threatened to do just that.) Heh.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Feast of Lights: flashback
Back when my dad worked at the National Labs, many of his coworkers came from all over the globe. Highly educated engineers, physicists, and scientists from Germany, Poland, China, India, or Russia all found important work to do in their fields alongside Americans from across the country. No matter their religion, when December came around in the '70s, there was an office Christmas Party, complete with Santas everywhere, angels and reindeer, and songs about glorifying the savior's birth. Christianity was assumed, but if you were Jewish, Hindu, Buddhist, or Muslim you came to the party anyway, because you were expected to or just to celebrate the spirit of the season (and there was free food!). In the time before political correctness, expecting a nod toward any non-Christian religion at a mainstream office party was too much to hope for.
As I mentioned in yesterday's post, my sister M. and I featured regularly in the singing at the ANL Xmas parties. We dutifully learned our songs in elementary school chorus class to prepare for the annual Christmas choral program. We were pretty good! Our little eight- and six-year-old voices were sweet and earnest. One year at his office party, my dad asked us to sing our favorite Christmas carol. After a brief conference (in which I argued for my favorite, a beautiful song in a haunting minor key), we sang this lovely song:
I remember Mama lighting the Menorah,
Then covering her head she'd start to pray.
When Papa finished reading from the Torah,
May your days and nights
Be a feast of lights
The eternal flame, may it glow in you,
And the Holy One,
May He know in you only love.
May the light of peace
Shine and never cease
And the glow of wisdom illumine in you
May you never hate, though it's human to
May you know love.
May you go through life
With your head up to the sky
May you never walk in shame
In sight of the light of the One
Who has no name
May your days and nights
Be a feast of lights
Have a warmth for all of humanity
For without it, life is but vanity
May you have love.
May you have faith, and
May you have strength, and
May the Lord grant
Your life will have length
May it be sweet but strong
May your days and nights
Be a feast of lights
Your whole life long.
(There are more verses, but the Internets fail me for locating them. Update: third verse contributed by Anonymous! Thanks! 2nd Update: More verses added by additional anonymous readers! Again, many thanks.)
Of all the many unsuspecting, long-suffering Jewish coworkers at the Christmas party? There was not a dry eye.
Happy Belated Chanukah, Merry Christmas, or whichever holiday you celebrate this season. May you know love.
As I mentioned in yesterday's post, my sister M. and I featured regularly in the singing at the ANL Xmas parties. We dutifully learned our songs in elementary school chorus class to prepare for the annual Christmas choral program. We were pretty good! Our little eight- and six-year-old voices were sweet and earnest. One year at his office party, my dad asked us to sing our favorite Christmas carol. After a brief conference (in which I argued for my favorite, a beautiful song in a haunting minor key), we sang this lovely song:
I remember Mama lighting the Menorah,
Then covering her head she'd start to pray.
When Papa finished reading from the Torah,
Mama, smiling down on me, would say:
May your days and nights
Be a feast of lights
The eternal flame, may it glow in you,
And the Holy One,
May He know in you only love.
May the light of peace
Shine and never cease
And the glow of wisdom illumine in you
May you never hate, though it's human to
May you know love.
May you go through life
With your head up to the sky
May you never walk in shame
In sight of the light of the One
Who has no name
This I wish for you.
May your days and nights
Be a feast of lights
Have a warmth for all of humanity
For without it, life is but vanity
May you have love.
May you have faith, and
May you have strength, and
May the Lord grant
Your life will have length
May it be sweet but strong
May your days and nights
Be a feast of lights
Your whole life long.
(There are more verses, but the Internets fail me for locating them. Update: third verse contributed by Anonymous! Thanks! 2nd Update: More verses added by additional anonymous readers! Again, many thanks.)
Of all the many unsuspecting, long-suffering Jewish coworkers at the Christmas party? There was not a dry eye.
Happy Belated Chanukah, Merry Christmas, or whichever holiday you celebrate this season. May you know love.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Office Christmas Parties Past
This past Sunday, Monkeyrotica and I took Rosie and Dash to a Christmas party at our friend Kathryn's apartment. She served Jul Glögg, a traditional Swedish Christmas punch, and the guests trimmed the tree. Or, to be more accurate, my kids (they were the only under-20 contingent) decorated the bottom half of the tree by themselves and several other guests added ornaments to the upper half. We had a lovely time, catching up with friends we haven't seen in forever, like Ed (been staying on the down-low), or Carri and William (down from NYC). The glögg was tasty, but I preferred the champagne cocktails; Monkey, can you get that recipe from Fritz?
Even though the setting was nothing like Christmas parties from my childhood, it nevertheless felt familiar. I remember holiday parties with my dad's coworkers, all researchers and scientists at Argonne National Labs, where my sister and I were virtually the only kids there. The parties would be very casual and open-ended. We would be mingling with intellectual adults, listening in and attempting to keep up with their conversations (my, aren't your children precocious, Jim!), playing pool (there was always a billiards table), sampling from the buffet, and there would always be the singing!
Back then, it was the '70s and folk music was king, but today I don't know anyone who brings a guitar to a party and gets everyone to sing along, do you? At those parties, a couple of those scientists would bring along lyric sheet copies (mimeographed?), start strumming away, and we would all carol our hearts out. M. and I were fair singers at the time (or at least our parents liked to volunteer us) and occasionally we would sing a duet of a favorite tune we'd learned in grade school for the group.
Ok, there wasn't any singing at Fritz and Kathryn's party, but just the same, the kids were the entertainment, with an audience of adults watching them, carefully, with focus and enthusiasm, perform a creative task well. They were complimented on what a good job they were doing, hanging those tiny, delicate ornaments, and how well behaved they were! I'll see if I can get some photos of K & F's tree and post later! It looked gorgeous!!
Even though the setting was nothing like Christmas parties from my childhood, it nevertheless felt familiar. I remember holiday parties with my dad's coworkers, all researchers and scientists at Argonne National Labs, where my sister and I were virtually the only kids there. The parties would be very casual and open-ended. We would be mingling with intellectual adults, listening in and attempting to keep up with their conversations (my, aren't your children precocious, Jim!), playing pool (there was always a billiards table), sampling from the buffet, and there would always be the singing!
Back then, it was the '70s and folk music was king, but today I don't know anyone who brings a guitar to a party and gets everyone to sing along, do you? At those parties, a couple of those scientists would bring along lyric sheet copies (mimeographed?), start strumming away, and we would all carol our hearts out. M. and I were fair singers at the time (or at least our parents liked to volunteer us) and occasionally we would sing a duet of a favorite tune we'd learned in grade school for the group.
Ok, there wasn't any singing at Fritz and Kathryn's party, but just the same, the kids were the entertainment, with an audience of adults watching them, carefully, with focus and enthusiasm, perform a creative task well. They were complimented on what a good job they were doing, hanging those tiny, delicate ornaments, and how well behaved they were! I'll see if I can get some photos of K & F's tree and post later! It looked gorgeous!!
Sunday, April 20, 2008
#22 Follow-up: Prisoner's Art
Regarding the origin of the original art (#22) my previous post: In the early '70s my dad had competed with the prisoners of Stateville Correctional Center, a maximum security prison outside Joliet, Ill, as a one of team of chess players. The highly educated engineers and physicists from Argonne National Laboratory's team, the ANL Pawns, played the Stateville Rooks under the supervision of the Chicago Industrial Chess League. The CICL Bulletin archive has a record of my dad's team playing the Rooks in their February 1974 issue.
Here's my dad's take on the event (his is the "one" game with a non-convict win):
Even so, I've always loved it.
Here's my dad's take on the event (his is the "one" game with a non-convict win):
"Bill Walsh, one of the Argonne players, decided to call a Chicago Tribune reporter after the match to tell him that the convicts won all their games but one.The story made the front page of the Trib and got Bill into a lot of trouble with Argonne management! It was very unusual for Argonne to make the front page and they certainly didn’t want to be there with a “negative” story."
Having grown up with his prize painting on the wall of our split-level suburban home, I never thought it was all that unusual until I was in my teens. It is a large (4 ft by 6 ft) canvas, an abstract oil painting, depicting what appears to be a silhouette of a pine forest—aflame. The lower half of the canvas is black, spiking with the pine trees' peaks into a chaotic sea of yellow, orange and red streaks that fill the top of the frame. Only in my adolescence did it occur to me to think that this high-contrast, high-energy, and somewhat violent art maybe didn't fit in fully with our tame slate foyer, goldenrod carpeting, faux-buckskin recliner, and warm wood upright piano in the living room.
Even so, I've always loved it.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
2007 Recap Meme
My dear blogging friends Dee at on the curb and Sher at wrekehavoc both did this meme, so I jumped on the wagon. 2007's dead, long live 2008! I mean, happy new year!
1. Where did you begin 2007? We spent last new year's eve at Kelly & Todd's, but really didn't stay into Jan 1 officially; we usually pretend that it's midnight at 7 p.m. New year's day last year was a Monday and I don't have anything noted on my electronic calendar that day.
2. Did you have to go to the hospital? Nope, don't recall entering a hospital for any reason, thank goodness!
3. Did you have any encounters with the police? Nope.
4. Where did you go on vacation? We spent a week at the beach in Rehoboth, DE in around Labor Day.
5. What did you purchase that was over $500? We bought the outdoor swingset that, with shipping, just crossed the $500 line. Also, my new specs cost about that much, because since my prescription is so bad, I order all sorts of high-index, anti-glare customizations to the lenses. Unfortunately, we had to replace the pump for our AC unit, and that took a sizeable bite in our budget, too.
6. Did you know anybody who got married? I noticed that our neighbor across the street had an outdoor wedding, does that count?
7. What sporting events did you attend? Um, none. Really.
8. What concerts/shows did you go to? Only Tori Amos, thanks to dear Wreke, who got free tix on a radio show!
9. Where do you live now? DC Metro Area, Alexandria, VA, specifically. We're in our fourth year at our current house.
10. Describe your birthday: The Majestic! We got two sitters to watch all our kids, then went out to dinner with Kelly, Todd, Heather and Amy. The atmosphere was fun, the company was fabulous, and I really enjoyed myself with all the wine and great food. Yum. Warm fuzzy.
11. What’s the one thing you thought you would never do, but did in 2007? Well, after 11 of 13 people on my team were right-sized in February, who knew I could run an Air Force outreach program at the Pentagon for Congressional audiences practically by myself (there was one other full-time person who had her own tasks). Did I mention that I have a fine arts degree?
12. What’s something you learned about yourself? I can, in fact, take on two volunteer commitments as well as work full-time, while still having happy kids (in daycare) and keeping up with friends and housework! What, AJS, you disagree?
13. Any new additions to your family? Nope.
14. What was your best month? I recall June as pretty good, mostly because of the great outdoor parties for Dash's and Jool's respective birthdays! (ooo, I almost forgot about the whole Helio debacle, but let's imagine that didn't happen.)
15. What music will you remember 2007 by? Partly the tunes I made up to go with nursery rhymes that I sing to Dash at bedtime and party the Grey's Anatomy Season 2 soundtrack CD that gets almost constant play when kids are in my car: play "Miss Halfway" again, mommy!! No!, play "Hello Baby!" PLEEEEEAZZE?!?
16. Made new friends? Yes! In addition to some new friends in the blogosphere (Venessa, Dee), I befriended a couple who I met through our daughters' ballet class. I think it was the Ramones t-shirt Gina wore at Ava's drop-off one day that made me want to know her.
17. Favorite night out? At the moment, I'd have to refer you to #10. Our 10th anniversary dinner was a close second!
18. Any regrets? I regret that my job at the Pentagon was eliminated due to contract funding. My commute is suffering these days. Also, we should have hired babysitters more often for more couples time together.
19. What do you want to change in 2008? I'd like to get a better commute situation, maybe working from home a couple of days a week. Rosie starts Kindergarten this September, and I'd like to be around for her, even if I have to be working.
20. Overall, how would you rate this year? 6. Our friends and family pushed it slightly above average.
21. Other than home, where did you spend most of your time? My office.
22. Change your hairstyle? I guess I did change it this year, but only by neglect. It's the longest that it's been since 1997, when I grew it out for my wedding up-do.
23. Buy a new car? Nope. I've got a little while before I pay off the current one.
24. Any car accidents? Nope.
25. How old did you turn this year? 37
26. Do you have a New Year’s resolution? I'd like to set a goal to lose 10 pounds before the dance recital in June. Also, I resolve to avoid high-fructose corn syrup and MSG as much as is possible.
27. Do anything embarrassing? How about the pants tear from a week ago?
28. Be honest - did you watch American Idol? Once or twice. I really prefer the fictional, scripted shows much more than reality ones.
29. Start a new hobby? I did pick up an old one: jewelry making! See the link to my Etsy shop at the right...
30. Will you be happy to see 2007 go? Not happy necessarily, but certainly not sad.
31. Been naughty or nice? Nice. Yeah, that's me, Ms. Nice.
1. Where did you begin 2007? We spent last new year's eve at Kelly & Todd's, but really didn't stay into Jan 1 officially; we usually pretend that it's midnight at 7 p.m. New year's day last year was a Monday and I don't have anything noted on my electronic calendar that day.
2. Did you have to go to the hospital? Nope, don't recall entering a hospital for any reason, thank goodness!
3. Did you have any encounters with the police? Nope.
4. Where did you go on vacation? We spent a week at the beach in Rehoboth, DE in around Labor Day.
5. What did you purchase that was over $500? We bought the outdoor swingset that, with shipping, just crossed the $500 line. Also, my new specs cost about that much, because since my prescription is so bad, I order all sorts of high-index, anti-glare customizations to the lenses. Unfortunately, we had to replace the pump for our AC unit, and that took a sizeable bite in our budget, too.
6. Did you know anybody who got married? I noticed that our neighbor across the street had an outdoor wedding, does that count?
7. What sporting events did you attend? Um, none. Really.
8. What concerts/shows did you go to? Only Tori Amos, thanks to dear Wreke, who got free tix on a radio show!
9. Where do you live now? DC Metro Area, Alexandria, VA, specifically. We're in our fourth year at our current house.
10. Describe your birthday: The Majestic! We got two sitters to watch all our kids, then went out to dinner with Kelly, Todd, Heather and Amy. The atmosphere was fun, the company was fabulous, and I really enjoyed myself with all the wine and great food. Yum. Warm fuzzy.
11. What’s the one thing you thought you would never do, but did in 2007? Well, after 11 of 13 people on my team were right-sized in February, who knew I could run an Air Force outreach program at the Pentagon for Congressional audiences practically by myself (there was one other full-time person who had her own tasks). Did I mention that I have a fine arts degree?
12. What’s something you learned about yourself? I can, in fact, take on two volunteer commitments as well as work full-time, while still having happy kids (in daycare) and keeping up with friends and housework! What, AJS, you disagree?
13. Any new additions to your family? Nope.
14. What was your best month? I recall June as pretty good, mostly because of the great outdoor parties for Dash's and Jool's respective birthdays! (ooo, I almost forgot about the whole Helio debacle, but let's imagine that didn't happen.)
15. What music will you remember 2007 by? Partly the tunes I made up to go with nursery rhymes that I sing to Dash at bedtime and party the Grey's Anatomy Season 2 soundtrack CD that gets almost constant play when kids are in my car: play "Miss Halfway" again, mommy!! No!, play "Hello Baby!" PLEEEEEAZZE?!?
16. Made new friends? Yes! In addition to some new friends in the blogosphere (Venessa, Dee), I befriended a couple who I met through our daughters' ballet class. I think it was the Ramones t-shirt Gina wore at Ava's drop-off one day that made me want to know her.
17. Favorite night out? At the moment, I'd have to refer you to #10. Our 10th anniversary dinner was a close second!
18. Any regrets? I regret that my job at the Pentagon was eliminated due to contract funding. My commute is suffering these days. Also, we should have hired babysitters more often for more couples time together.
19. What do you want to change in 2008? I'd like to get a better commute situation, maybe working from home a couple of days a week. Rosie starts Kindergarten this September, and I'd like to be around for her, even if I have to be working.
20. Overall, how would you rate this year? 6. Our friends and family pushed it slightly above average.
21. Other than home, where did you spend most of your time? My office.
22. Change your hairstyle? I guess I did change it this year, but only by neglect. It's the longest that it's been since 1997, when I grew it out for my wedding up-do.
23. Buy a new car? Nope. I've got a little while before I pay off the current one.
24. Any car accidents? Nope.
25. How old did you turn this year? 37
26. Do you have a New Year’s resolution? I'd like to set a goal to lose 10 pounds before the dance recital in June. Also, I resolve to avoid high-fructose corn syrup and MSG as much as is possible.
27. Do anything embarrassing? How about the pants tear from a week ago?
28. Be honest - did you watch American Idol? Once or twice. I really prefer the fictional, scripted shows much more than reality ones.
29. Start a new hobby? I did pick up an old one: jewelry making! See the link to my Etsy shop at the right...
30. Will you be happy to see 2007 go? Not happy necessarily, but certainly not sad.
31. Been naughty or nice? Nice. Yeah, that's me, Ms. Nice.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Flashback Friday
"Oh Yeah" by Yello.
This song has been overplayed and is now almost a joke song; in fact, it was on the Simpsons the other night as the tune that Duff Man (as male stripper) was going to "dance" to. My friend Ben liked to make mix tapes for all of his close friends, so I heard it from his mix well before it
was on the Ferris Bueller soundtrack.
Nevertheless, whenever I hear this song played, it makes me think of my highschool-best-friend, Janet. When she turned 16, Janet's parents gave her a cream-colored t-top Firebird. They were immigrants from Korea and I think they were trying to give their eldest child the "American Experience" or something (getting a birthday car was not in my cards, so it always seemed a little social-climber to me, I guess). Anyway, Janet loved driving that car. Sometimes we would just get in and drive just to drive, with no particular destination, like teenagers do sometimes, you know?
Here's where Yello came in. There was this one super-pretentious neighborhood on the southeast end of town called "The Woods of Bailey Hobson" (say it with a nasal just-out-of-new-england-prep-school lilt) where Janet and I made a regular destination on our drives, BECAUSE, holy-F, the houses were just beyond RIDICULOUSLY ENORMOUS!!
To the bass-blaring nonsense that is "Oh Yeah," we would traverse this development screaming
at the top of our lungs things like, " OH MY GOD THIS PLACE IS %*&#^% UNREAL!!" and
"WHY DO PEOPLE NEED THESE &($\^!$ HUGE HOUSES?!!" or just "*$&%^\!^&!!"
An alternate soundtack was 7 Seconds, the Crew album. Janet never bothered to learn the lyrics, so she was just the cutest thing, screaming out random syllables while punching her fist in the air, with passionately angry expression (well, I'm sure we were both doing that). Even so, "Oh Yeah" and driving with Janet are indelibly together in my mind.
Chik...chik-a-chik-a....
Friday, November 09, 2007
Flashback Friday: Gallery Assistant
Flashback seemed like a pretty good theme to continue, so here you go.
While I was home for the summer during college working on a BFA, my dad convinced me that I should try to get a studio at the Torpedo Factory Arts Center in Alexandria, VA. As an engineer, I think he wasn't really sure what I might do with a fine arts degree, saw plenty of artists making a living at TFAC, so why not me?
So, I visited studios and talked with artists about what they did there, how they got their studios (a jury selection) and how I, as an art student, might work toward getting a studio. Universally, they suggested I become a gallery assistant. I managed to make friends with another assistant, Jackie, and she gave my name to one of the artists, and I was in!
I worked there on weekends for different artists for over 10 years, and never once tried to get a studio. One of the points that the artists prided themselves on was that their work was not for hire, or commercially based. For example, a photographer who was paid to do a commercial shoot could not, by their tenets, display images that were from that shoot, no matter how beautiful. It was art for arts' sake.
My bent turned out to be graphic design, or working commercially, for hire. I enjoyed being around artists and still maintain a few friendships with folks I knew there. It's been almost three years since I worked there last.
The artist that I assisted for the longest time was evicted from her studio in 2005. Shortly after I stopped working for her, in fact. Toward the end, I was the only one opening her studio to the public and making sales for her. She had stopped coming to her studio during open hours and just worked on her art at night, when nobody else was around. She grew to hate dealing with the public and their intolerable questions. These actions were noncompliant with TFAC basic rules.
Her art was abstract prints, imbued with vibrant colors and enhanced with bright pastels. Even I would wince when some tourist from the heartland (insert twang) asked, "couldn't you have used a ruler to make any of those lines?" or my favorite, "my child could've painted that!"
I would really try hard to be her muse, phoning her weekly and giving her inspiring words about her work, and how the people really weren't that bad. It was a fine line to walk, because if I made a suggestion that was too concrete (that smacked of a commission) she would shut down and refuse to listen. I did my best to just stroke her ego and let her know which of her color combinations I loved best.
Two of her pieces are in my home, in Dash's room. She would hate that. Despite the bright colors and inticing geometric or biomorphically abstract shapes, she did NOT want her work to be considered suitable for children. Or really, even suitable for a living room. She actively did not want to know the final resting place of any of her prints.
I guess I understood where she was coming from. As an artist, would you really want someone coming to your studio, viewing the culmination of your life's work and saying, "hm, that doesn't really go with my couch..."?
That's what she had signed up for, but ultimately became disenchanted with it. The lesson here? Um, mental illness and fine artists are friends?
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Flashback: jungle bus
The noisy people I'm traveling with on the commuter bus this afternoon took me back to a memorable high school bus trip.
I'm sure you remember the clowns and the troublemakers that were in your high school? Well our bus driver loved them; I'm sure he used to be one. He would actively enjoy their wackiness and somehow, out of respect for him, they never really got out of control.
There was this one day when the clowns got on and started goofing, making chimpanzee noises. Soon, another wannabe goof tried gibbon whoops, then another, howler monkeys. Other teens tried parrot shrieks and tiger growls. The entire bus population participated now, geeks, losers, prom queens, jocks, burnouts...every last one a jungle animal.
The whole bus vibrated with the sounds of the Rainforest.
What did the driver do? He was laughing so hard, but managed to grab his two-way mike and broadcasted our jungle to the entire high school bus system!
Whoop-woop-woop-whoop!!
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