Showing posts with label analog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label analog. Show all posts

11.07.2018

A WEDNESDAY : SO MANY MEETINGS.

Prologue. 

People who know stuff about things say it's good to make lists and to state, in writing, what's important in terms of accomplishment for the day ahead.
  1. I hope to enjoy a hot cup of coffee, from first sip to last, while it's...hot. 
  2. I hope to get through the morning without having to clean poop off the floor. 
  3. I hope to - 
(There is screaming coming from somewhere.)

I'm needed. Somewhere. My hiding place isn't good enough.



Chapter 2.

What's your day looking like?
I ask,
as I peer at the bearded face on the screen while I spoon coffee into a French press for rebrew. Or re-rebrew.



He tells me. There are meetings and performance reviews, photo shoots and logistics planning, equipment checks and personnel protocols.

What's your day looking like?
he asks.

Oh,
I say.
Meetings, a lot of meetings about different stuff, and maybe I'll make some lunch sometime, if I can find food. I'm gonna go reheat some coffee now. Good luck with your stuff.

Thanks,
he says.
Good luck with your meetings.

Love you.
I say.

Love you.
he says.

If I'm not in a meeting,
I say,
I'l call you in five minutes.

But I am, so I can't.

So many today.



Chapter 3. 


What are you doing?
I ask the littlest one, I think he's not even two yet.
Why are you standing outside your brother's room with a pencil stuck in the door handle?

Brina.
he says.

("Brina" is what he calls his brother; a derivation of "Johannes" and "brother." Perhaps?)

Are you trying to pick the lock to his room?
I ask sternly.

Uh-uh.
he says continuing to fiddle with it, failing.

I am proud of you for your resourcefulness...
I say, raising my voice so it will carry throughout the house for the next part.
...and this is a reminder to your older siblings that you will try and copy everything they do. Including picking locks.

Brina.
he says.

I'm gonna help you out a tiny bit,
I say, roughly yanking the pencil out of the lock.

I open the door.

No!!!!!
his older brother shrieks.
This is my room!

It's his room too,
I remind him.

Well, I was here first.
he says.

You guys work it out,
I say as I shove the youngest one in and pull the door shut behind me.
I'll be back in a while. Gotta cup of warm coffee to reheat. And then we'll have a meeting to discuss this incident.



Chapter 4. 

Do people actually vote for him?
Magdelana asks as the video ends.

Yes.
I say, putting my phone away as we close out the meeting at which we discussed the previous evening's election results.
People actually voted for Brian Kemp. And now it looks like he's going to be the next governor of Georgia.

You mean he won?

Yep.
I say.
As of last night, looks like it.

But he was pointing a gun at a teenager in the video!

Yeah,
I say.
Some people think those things are funny. And some fathers don't know how to have good conversations with their daughters, so they make up for it by trying to act all tough and wave guns around and act like girls are precious little dolls that are going to get broken unless they jump in and threaten boys with a gun.

Okay...
she says.
But he was also driving around in a big truck and saying he's going to get illegal immigrants...and people still voted for him?

Yeah,
I say.
Many of the same people who voted for Donald Trump.

I do not think Brian Kemp should be a governor.
she says.

Amen.
I say.
Meeting adjourned.






Chapter 5.

One of you is going to take a nap,
I order the class.
And the other two are going to sit in on a meeting of how the Dutch, French, and English colonized the Americas. I will be leading the meeting.

What about the Spanish?
one says.

We're done with them.
I say.
There's a section I wanna get to before Thanksgiving. Who remembers the second permanent English settlement in the Americas?

Jamestown?
one says semi-excitedly.

Wrong.
I say.
That was the first. Think harder. Remember, we're in the 1600s now.

They think harder, but they fail.

Plymouth.
I sigh.
Plymouth was the second permanent English settlement. They came for what reason?

Gold?
one says.

No!
I say.
How can you not remember this?

I berate them viciously before returning to the topic at hand: religious freedom.

Because,
I scream at them to make sure they remember,
PEOPLE SHOULD BE FREE FROM PERSECUTION!





Chapter 6. 

Do whatever you want,
I say.
But put back whatever you get out. And don't get injured badly. Understand?

Uh-huh!
he meets my expectations with cheerful eye contact and agreement, and


heads off to practice going down the slide backwards while holding a fistful of freshly-sharpened  colored pencils in each hand.

As a treat,
I yell as he tumbles down,
if you don't get hurt too badly and don't get any poop or blood on the couch or carpet or clothes, then maybe I'll let you use one of my typewriters later!



Chapter 7. A meeting of nebulas. 

If you can tell me,
I announced,
what happens when a cloud of gas and dust are floating around in space, and gravity starts pulling them together and pretty soon the core is super hot and there's two types of a certain molecule starting to fuse together...if you can tell me what they're called, then I'll cancel the rest of the meeting.

What was the question again?
one says.

Hydrogen.
I say smugly.
Hydrogen atoms. Two hydrogen atoms slam fuse together and form helium, and this reaction at the core is what provides the outward pressure to hold off gravity and keep a star stable for as long as it's alive, which may be somewhere between a million and ten billion years.

You didn't even let us try answering!
they complain.

Well, you should have been more prepared for the meeting,
I say confidently as I smoothly segue to the next point.
Like a star getting ready to die. What happens when the hydrogen goes bye-bye?

More fusion?
one guesses.

NO!
I scream.
Now the star is dying! But how gloriously it's dying! Don't come to a meeting unprepared next time!





Chapter 8. 

Daddy!!!!
someone screamed.

There's poop on the floor!

See: Prologue, Number 2. Pun intended.




Chapter 9. 

We are going to have a little chat.
I announce.
I told my brother I had meetings, plural, so we need to have at least a couple so he doesn't find out I made it up to sound important. So we are going to have another meeting.

Can we wrestle instead?
a boy says.

No.
I say.

But then it turns into a wrestling meeting, and I am injured during this meeting.



Chapter 10. 

We will take a break from meetings,
I announce.
And do some racing. I will time you.

YES!
one says.
The other grins confidently. She is wearing sandals in November.




Chapter 11. "I am ready to face any challenge that might be foolish enough to face me." *

It is bedtime.
I say firmly.

Can we just watch a little Pocahontas?
one pleads.
It would be educational, and it really helps us to learn another perspective about the English settling of the Americas!

No.
I say.
And if you're not asleep in the next thirty seconds, Thanksgiving may get canceled and we'll have meetings instead.

Becca and I sink into the purple couch together and snuggle up with a sigh.

Should we go get lunches ready for tomorrow, or do dishes, or have a meeting about finances?
I murmur?
Or should we watch The Office?

Uh-huh,
she says,
as her eyes close.

A lot of meetings. Can't wait to tell Jonny about them.



___

*Chapter 11 title : courtesy of Dwight Schrute

10.27.2017

I AM I AM I AM A GERTRUDE STEIN.


oh summer is dead.
now is the bleak grey night, plus
hot cocoa with straws.

___

a time to focus.
a time to be aimless.
that is the dance.



6.13.2017

SHARPIE VS. IPHONE.

I'm sure there's something to be said for letting my iPhone remember important stuff and dates, but no tech will ever beat good Sharpie scribblings up my hands and arms for fast and efficient memos.


Also, is barbed wire one of the worst inventions ever? I don't know. A case could be made.
___

#neverforgetifpossible #usuallyremember #40percentisgoodinbaseball #nobattery
#ink4life #untilthenextshower

6.30.2015

POLITICS: 33 & ME.



Jed Bush just released 33 years of tax records to prove how transparent he is. I am releasing this photo of me doing Presidential research to prove how commited I am to providing fact-ish based voting information. For some reason, in this article they keep calling him "George."

It also makes me wonder what he's trying to hide prior to 1982.

Also, Chris "Kris" Christie just announced officially his candidacy; something I correctly called weeks, if not years ago. Still don't know about Albert Gore. Stay tuned.
____

Photo credit: M.D. Long

3.12.2014

SPLIT SINGLE / WINTERSPRING SOL (YOU GOTTA BE HANGIN' TOUGH).

Happy sunny day, world.



March Welcome Sunshine Playlist x11
1. Contrabanda / DeVotchKa
2. Breezeblocks / Alt-j
3. Sounds Like Hallelujah / The Head and the Heart
4. The Ballad of Michael Valentine / the Killers
5. This Fire / Franz Ferdinand
6. Matilda / Alt-j
7. Twilight / the Raveonettes
8. Summertime Sadness / Lana Del Rey
9. Brighter Than the Sun / Colbie Caillat
10. Story Told / M.I.A.
11. I Found a Whistle / MGMT

Oh, and New Kids on the Block and Roxette on cassette.




1.22.2014

SORRY, I'M NOT NOAM CHOMSKY / NANCY VS. THE RAPTURE.

I suppose I could have been more effective in communicating with my son.
When I said "go to bed,"
it seemed fairly straightforward in my own head,
but I guess I could have been more clear, now that I really think about it. 
A hard directive to understand.

"Why are you not sleeping?"
I asked.

- "Because I'm just drawing,"
he said.

"Oh."
I said.
Because I couldn't think of anything else.
And I watched him draw,
and was mesmerized.

- "Why do I have bad dreams, Daddy?"

"Well...have you considered drawing something more peaceful than aliens, bad robots, and sword-wielding soldiers?"
I asked.

- "Oh."
he said.
"I'll just draw a cyclops. A cyclops with two eyes."

"Oh boy."
I said



I strongly believe that you should, at any given point, be within a ten-foot radius of at least one book and a music playback device. Preferably something with a speaker.




Kick out the jams. 


THINGS THAT MAKE ME SMILE ON A WEDNESDAY MORNING:

Children in backseat making music demands.

#1: Can you please turn M.I.A up?


#2: Louder! Louder! Turn M.I.A. up louder...please.


12.22.2013

LAST MINUTE REVISIONS OF THE ELVES.



He found an 1880s chaise longue today that he tried adding to the wishlist, but its $3,800 price tag seemed a trifle excessive, so we told him he'll have to stick to IKEA furniture for the time being. Poor lad. At least he still has his swords, sticks, staffs, scimitar, and writing buddy.

And a killer bathrobe.

THE GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING.
Toying with the idea of totally surprising my wife for Christmas this year...thinking either XBox 360 or Playstation 4. I think she would be surprised.

Also, my son just asked for a million dollars. 

Just gonna bite the bullet and do it. Shrieks of joy: coming up soon.


11.16.2013

NEWSPRINT REFLEKTOR.

I bought Arcade Fire's new album almost two weeks ago and have yet to hear it. Not until I can properly listen with focus and attention. So, might be another month.

This is self-control. "Delayed gratification," my dad called it.

It better be good.

NEWS JUNKIES.

A voracious appetite for staying up to date with current events.

Also, there is a picture of a samurai inside.


10.24.2013

Franz Ferdinand and Androcles

Stepped out of my (home) office where my wife handed me a cup of late afternoon joe before she returned to swordfighting with our son. New Franz Ferdinand lighting up my little speakers, sleepy sun getting ready to tuck himself in over the horizon. A large spider a few feet away whose life I have chosen to spare, possibly having something to do with the fact that I have told my children the tale of Androcles and the Lion six hundred times. I realise I have not only a phone with a cord, but two of my favourite
typewriters close by. What does all this mean? Nothing, I suppose, except I'm glad to not be dead. Although to be fair, today also brings me one step closer to extinction. 

Happy Thorsday, all. 

9.05.2013

Typewriters Mafia Lebanon and How to Run a Successful Business

I took my typewriters in for a little tune-up and fresh ribbons. Gus, late-50s Lebanese owner, checked the margin levers on my Hermes 3000 while I hovered.

"Have you been back to Lebanon recently?"
I asked.

- Oh no, it's expensive. So expensive. When I left,  I thought it was expensive, but it's so much more expensive now. You wouldn't think so, but it is. The richest man in the world right now is from Lebanon. Carlos Slim. You know him?

"I know who he is. I'm not personally acquainted."

- He's from Lebanon.* So much wealth there. Mercedes and Lamborghinis all over, yacht parking by hotels...Everybody is educated there. Everybody. When you're born, you're constantly having three languages spoken to you: English, Arabic, and French. It's all about languages. So by the time you get to university, you're fluent in three languages. Last time I was in Lebanon was...ten years ago.

"I've been really interested in Lebanon even since reading Nassim Nicholas Taleb's The Black Swan several years ago."

He looked up. 
- Nassim means "breeze." Yes, definitely Lebanese. And Talib means "student" or "scholar." Perhaps Orthodox.

He wiggled the typebars around, brushing dust and hammering away on each key as he tested letter.

"I really enjoy his writing and his vivid descriptions of Lebanese history and culture. Is there a strong Lebanese community in Portland?"
(I asked)

- Yes. About a thousand families, a couple churches. Good community.

"How'd you end up in Portland?"

(laughs)
- I was in New York first. I hated it. Hated it. I left a war zone behind; I didn't want to live in another one. The Bronx...a bad place. The bad guys had guns and we had nothing. I ran a discount store there. So many shoplifters.

"Lot of shoplifters?"

- Oh yes. And age didn't have anything to do with it. A woman in her '70s stuffing $25 sheets down her underwear...

"I'm not sure I'd want those back on the shelf."

(chuckles and checks the carriage return lever)
- You wouldn't believe what people would do. They'd look around, try to be sneaky and drop items into their bags or their pants or their coat. Ten to fifteen a day.

"Ten to fifteen shoplifters A DAY?!"

- Oh yes. The police finally told us: 'stop calling us.' Just beat them up.

"What?!"

- They said: 'you're wasting our time.' Just take them to the basement and beat them up. And I said 'but what if they try suing us?' And they told me 'if they try suing you, THEN call us and we'll beat them again.'

"That's sort of humorous."

- It was running us out of business. And we had to pay protection money. 

"What do you mean?"

- Protection money. Mafia. They called it "garbage money." We'd leave these cardboard boxes outside for them to pick up - "garbage." $250 a month. I finally had to leave in 1989.

"And you ended up in Portland."

- Yes. I took over this business. It was started in 1926 by a very smart fellow. He was IBM's main competitor. He had 15 trucks with benches in the back that he set up with all the tools, compressor, everything, and they'd go around to pick up appliances to repair, fix them in the trucks, then take them back. IBM couldn't compete. I never met him, but his son-in-law was running the business when I took over, and it was almost bankrupt. He just wanted to get the money and be done with it.

He unscrewed the bottom off my Streamliner.

"Do you get a lot of typewriters coming through?"

- Oh yes. I thought they were done for a while back, but we see plenty. And of course we had to start doing printers and copiers a while back because I couldn't keep a business going with just typewriters.

"How did you get into it?"

- When I was younger, the company I was working for sent me to France and Italy for training. I've been working on these a long time. And then I learned the other stuff by taking a few classes at Mt. Hood Community College. Copiers are easy; I don't need a book anymore for any model.

"What do you mean?"

- The manufacturers try to be tricky and put all these screws where you can't find them, make it as difficult as possible to work on so you have to call their technicians at $250 an hour. But once you figure them out...I don't need a book for any of them. They can't trick me anymore.

"Cool. Do you have an all-time favourite typewriter?"

- Oh no. They're just work for me. I don't like them. I just work on them.

He looked up from my Remington Streamliner. Shook his head. 
- This is what's wrong: the spring came off. We'll have to figure out a new one.

"I may have to wait on that,"
I said sadly.

"What do I owe you for now?"

He told me.

"Gus, I'm pretty sure I owe you a bit more than that, considering all the diagnostics and cleaning you've done, in addition to ribbon."

- No, no, I want you to come back. I don't like sending out a machine with unfinished work. So you come back when you're ready.

"Thank you."

I left, and my heart was light as I paused at the door to wave farewell to my favourite typewriter specialist. And friend.

See you soon, Gus. Thanks for the great conversation.

____


*note: Carlos Slim migrated to Mexico at 14


8.11.2013

BOOKS: Ready Player One

Made the mistake of crawling on the couch first thing this morning and starting Ready Player One, a poppier Phillip K. Dick-inspired novel set set in a dystopian future and filled with '80s cultural references and a giant Easter Egg hunt. Totally hooked. 

Why must responsibilities, obligations, and human interaction interfere with a good book? Couch, I'll be back...sometime. (Merci, Jeffrey Townsend, for getting it on my radar).


Explorer, DJ, Inventor, Spy. 
Not necessarily in that order.
Our game is life,
and life is a game
and we are ready.
At least for the analog version.
Anybody got a hack for extra lives?






6.20.2013

Scottie Pippen (Blazers Gonna Rise Again)

Congratulations on the win, LeBron. Just be glad you weren't going up against Scottie and my boys a few years back, or it would have been a different story.

A very different story. 


Blazers gonna rise. Again. So party it up tonight, LeBron, Dwayne, and Chrises. But look over your shoulder. 'Cause a storm gonna be riding in someday soon with the spirit of Scottie smack in the vortex. And you going down. Down. Down.

So enjoy tonight. But listen for the footsteps.

Wow, it feels good to be talking trash again now that I'm back into this sports thing. It's been a decade or two.

5.26.2013

Drew Barrymore vs. My Mom, Plus: Girl on Bicycle

I miss the good old days of taking a family trip to the video store to search out a movie. You want to learn the art of compromise, negotiation, and learning how to work well with people? Go choose a movie together.

The B.R.A.T. Patrol or Parent Trap? The Court Jester or Dr. Syn: The Scarecrow of Romney Marsh? The Scarlet Pimpernel or Seven Brides for Seven Sisters? The Apple Dumpling Gang or Blade Runner?

Tough choices. And sometimes I don't want a billion choices on Netflix. And I don't want dozens of choices at Redbox. I want HUNDREDS of choices at a physical rental place where I can sneakily educate my kids about the fundamentals of good poster design and warn them not to look at bad movies like Firestarter like my mom did, even though it turned out she was wrong and it actually is kind of good. My kids deserve the right to prove me wrong someday.

And now they'll never get that chance.
____

Daughter of Non-Motorized Anarchy, with a Tinge of Law & Order.

3.21.2013

Everything I Think I'm Good At Goes Away


I used to be good at cooking. 
Then Becca started cooking.
Now, she makes vegan enchiladas and sweet potato curry that make her family salivate.
So now she is the cool cook.

I used to be good at LEGO building. 
Then I came home and Becca is constructing these Baroque spacecrafts with our son that have mini-fig bad guys holding weapons. 
So now she is the cool LEGO person.

I used to be good at being the hero in my children's stories.
Then Johannes tells me this tale about robbers who were trying to get him, and how "My mommy fights them, and says 'NO!' and then the bad wolves come and my mommy fights them too and she has weapons and she chops their head off."
So now she is Captain Americana and saves the day, every day.

Okay, I could be bummed.
Except I feel kinda cool being married to a superhero.

But I have forbade her from learning to bake pumpkin pie. Because I am still very good at that.

I think.

****


Life in the Fast Lane.


2.15.2013

L.A. Stories, Volume 1

Last May, I took a trip down to Hollywood to visit my brother Jeremy. Here are a few impressions, recollections, and stories.

Jeremy M. Long & Josh Pryer / Analog Hollywood (May 2012)
IGF.
You must be Incredibly Good Looking (IGL) to be a host at Abercrombie & Fitch (A&F).

I had never been to A&F, but went to visit Josh and Caleb on shift there. At the entrance was a young nubile late teenager, a boy,
wearing jeans and no shirt. Shirtless. Hairless, glistening, supposedly IGL, but my boys J&C could model rings around him.
,
Apparently, A&F views itself as an 'outdoorsy' kind of apparel line, though the thumping dance beats and tight skinny outfits swirling around inside made me feel 
a long long ways from the Rockies.

Josh was working on the top floor in the Women's section, close to the underwear. He and Jeremy and I conversed for a bit, but his work ethic was exemplary;

I noticed his eyes constantly attentive and roaming as we talked; watching the customers,
teaching me the correct way to fold jeans

(it's a quad-fold technique that bears little resemblance to the the blue collar tri-fold I learned in my short Old Navy stint years ago)

Suddenly, he interrupted my banter. Gotta go, gotta go,

and I tracked him as he navigated through people; turning around, he stage-whispered
hot girl

and went to greet her, just as her boyfriend appeared behind her.

Josh, in the most un-subtle gesture I have seen (ever), 
mouthed his disappointment;

Jeremy and I laughed and continued to Caleb,
on 2nd floor landing, lonely,
looking so Incredibly Good Looking in white polo and huge Greek god shoulders,

he smiled big and I love, I love his enthusiasm when he sees me,
and he asked us to stick around until his shift was over
(it was over in four hours)
and we said No.

He said a phrase to us, loud,
that is not in the A&F greeting manual.

and we left Caleb there, alone,
with his Incredible Good Looks.

Tom Cruise.
We stopped in at this Anti-Psychiatry Museum off Hollywood Boulevard. It intrigued me.

There were two individuals inside. Sterile, air-conditioned, bright smiles and brochures.

Like I said, I was intrigued. Jeremy, Allyson, and I spoke to them for ten minutes. Mostly, I asked questions.

A recurring question I have with any institution or idea is: who is behind this? With any particular story or agenda, who is behind it?

Are you funded by the Church of Scientology? I asked. Because, uhh, I see some tiny little print on the back of one of these
brochures that has them listed.

Well, no, I mean, we're our own organization…we're not part of the the church, she said cheerfully, nervously.

Right.

The Parks.
Where are the parks?

The Woods.
Palm trees, and no other trees.
I love palm trees.
I miss other trees.

Paperless.
I was nervous about just using my e-boarding pass with QR code. No print out, no safety net, no physical, tangible, tactile comfort that I could actually show to a ticket agent.

It was exhilarating to scan it, and pass through without having to pull a wad of folded-up paper from pockets.

I hope the tree I saved is strong, and will someday host a child's treehouse.

Fairy Tale Film.
There are billboards everywhere advertising Snow White and the Huntsman.

Charlize Theron is spellbinding in the trailers as the evil queen.

I really want to see it.

I have not seen The Avengers yet, which is surprising to many people. Every other person in the entire world has seen it already, besides me.

And Becca.

And Johannes, and Magdelana.

A Change is A-Coming, or Not.
I didn't have the right right change for me and Jeremy when we hopped on the bus.

Go ahead the driver waved us past.

He let us ride free.

****

I have more stories. Maybe I'll post them, if people demand it. I have a really good one, but it's scary. So maybe I shouldn't.