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July 28, 2006

Amazing Chair

I was sitting toward the back of the hall this morning in College Station, Texas where I was scheduled to make a presentation. A student in a wheel chair at the front of the room readied to give the invocation upon the start of the meeting (do all public meetings in Texas begin with prayer?). He sat up higher than usual, but my view was obscured by the podium so I didn't give it much thought.

A few minutes later, I took a closer looked and was amazed. The student was balanced on two wheels as if he had popped a permanent wheelie. After he gave his prayer, he lowered the chair back down on four wheels and drove off.

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This chair apparently is the iBot 4000 and it employs a clever use of gyroscopes -one of the many scientific phenomena that is beyond my comprehension. The beauty of this chair is it allows its occupants to be at eye level when speaking to others. So much of our socializing is done while standing. Now individuals confined to wheel chairs can participate fully in those type of settings. Ingenious.

July 26, 2006

Calabacita

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Who says vegetarian cuisine can't be captivating. I snapped a cellphone picture of my dinner tonight at La Francesca at Sunset in The Westin La Cantera Resort in San Antonio. This delightful tatuma squash was filled with veggies, seeds and tofu. The best part was putting the lid back on when I was finished eating.

July 22, 2006

Three Beautiful Things

Barbara Kingsolver’s Prodigal Summer: I listened to this on my iPod as I biked this morning. She reads it herself and the effect is stunning. Her words and inflections are lyrical. I just shook my head as I biked, amazed a writer could be that good.

Motorola PEBL: In the last three years, I have used several PDA/Cellphone combinations, including an HP, a Treo and currently the T-Mobile MDA. The MDA is excellent for text messaging, web surfing and email, but it stinks as a phone. I have never gotten used to holding a brick to my ear. Today I converted the MDA to data only and bought a Motorola PEPL. This phone is a work of art. I have no idea what the cover is made of, but it feels like a moss covered stone when you cradle it in your hand. Smooth as a velvet slipper.

Summer tomatoes: We have been frequenting the Woodside Garden, a local farm, to purchase fruits and vegetables. The tomatoes are the best I have tasted in years. When you buy tomatoes in the grocery store you can understand why they are mistaken for a vegetable. They are good, but with a tart edge that seems to say, “Of course I’m a little sour, I’m suppose to be good for you.” But the garden tomatoes we have eaten this week leave no doubt that tomatoes are a fruit, plump full of summer's sweetness.

July 19, 2006

Animal Musings

LaPriel and Breanna just left on a mother daughter trip to Walnut Grove, Minnesota. Why there? Think of it as like the Harley Davidson rally in Sturgis, South Dakota, only this rally is for Little House on the Prairie groupies. They have an extravagant pageant and hotels are booked for miles around with Laura Ingall Wilder pilgrims.

That leaves me and the boys to fend for ourselves. Fortunately, we have three flats of raspberries to sustain us, thanks to Camden and Bret helping LaPriel pick them up from a local farm this morning. I’ve been subsisting primarily on berries, nuts and vegetables for the last few days ever since reading Peter Singer and Jim Mason’s The Way We Eat, Why Our Food Choices Matter. This book on the ethics of eating pigs, cows and chickens that have been raised on factory farms came highly recommended by Aussie Yam. I’ll let you decide for yourself whether you agree with the authors’ arguments, but they convinced me this country’s food production methods are seriously flawed.

In other news, the kids have been begging for a new dog to replace Kody the Dog who passed away several years ago after fulfilling his life long dream to catch a UPS delivery truck. Breanna gave the neighbors her pet hamster Nibbles to make room for a new pet. Nibbles is well named, given his proclivity for chomping on the hands that feed it. Our neighbor was kind enough to show off his gouged finger courtesy of their new charge. Despite the wounds, they seem to like their new rodent.

I am the one that reopened the debate on a new dog, having previously refused to discuss it. The pet Breanna had hoped to replace Nibbles with was a leopard gecko. We spent some time on the internet researching how to care for these creatures and after reading how complicated it was, I thought maybe a dog would be easier. Only we can’t seem to find one that is small, intelligent, doesn’t chase UPS trucks, doesn’t yap, is cuddly and will only live eleven and a half years so that it will go to doggy heaven the same year Breanna enters college. We did find one dog that met most of our criteria; a Chacy Ranior. The only problem is the breeder has a four year waitlist for puppies and they give precedent to homes with special needs children. Plus there is the issue of the multi-page qualification questionnaire with such probing questions as:

1. Do you have any experience in canine ear care?
2. What is the total income of the person who will be responsible for any bills that will occur due to having a dog in the home?
3. In the event that any relationship you are in is dissolved, or in the event that there is a death in the family, is there a plan for what will happen with the dog?

I decided to hold off looking for a new dog and research canine ear care instead. I bought Cesar's Way: The Natural, Everyday Guide to Understanding and Correcting Common Dog Problems. If we get a dog, we are going to do it right this time. No more taking in used, poorly trained mutts. I want a puppy I can train from scratch, a blank slate⎯one that when it is grown I can leave it in the bed of a pickup truck at the Wal-Mart parking lot and it won’t bark at shoppers or jump out. We have a large number of such well mannered canines here in Idaho. Of course, this is all theoretical, because we are one of the few Idaho families without a pickup truck, and if we buy a small enough dog, it wouldn’t be able to see over the side of the truck bed anyway. Sort of defeats the purpose of putting a dog in the back of a truck if it can’t see out.

Speaking of pickup trucks, I was half awake the other night as I watched David Letterman. A commercial came on and in my drowsy state I noted the pickup truck in the ad looked like my brother-in-law's. The truck was pulling a boat and I thought it looked familiar too. Finally I sat up because there on the screen was my brother and sister-in-law telling me how much they love the truck they bought at said dealership. Only later did I realize my brother-in-law had done the voiceover for the entire commercial.

How do you know you’re a true Idahoan? You recognize your brother-in-law’s pickup truck faster than you recognize his voice.

July 15, 2006

How Best to Cancel a Subscription

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The current monthly rate for a gang to provide protection services to inmates in a maximum security prison in Alabama is $300. I am not sure how the prison gang determined this rate. In a free market economy, prices are typically set by supply and demand, where a drop off in demand would signal providers to lower prices. Yet the market inside prisons seems anything but free.

This has been on my mind after I received a letter this week from an inmate with whom I have been corresponding. He has been in prison for twenty years and is sentenced to life without parole. His letters are thoughtful and eloquent. They have drawn me into a world I had never contemplated.

He mentioned he was counseling a new arrival who had agreed to pay the monthly rate for protection but wanted to discontinue services. This is a problem because prison gangs do not take kindly to cancellations. They are highly discouraged. Canceling protection can get you killed. Not by those who you are theoretically being protected from, but by the gangs providing the protection.

The new arrival wanted advice on how best to cancel his subscription without losing his life. This young man while growing up had never even been in a fight and now realized he was living in a jungle.

My friend told the young man that he should inform his protectors of his decision in the cafeteria, because it had more guards and they would probably step in and break up the fight before he was dead.

My friend has never paid protection money. He says he tries to keep a low profile and stays away from things in prisons that can get you enemies like borrowing money, drugs and conversations on race and religion.

Seems like good advice for life outside prison too.

July 12, 2006

What Is It?

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$10 bucks via paypal to the first person that can name the three objects in this picture taken from my porch the other day (jd's kiddies excluded since you already know the answer).

While you are pondering that, I had to laugh at the Google Ad at the top of the page where I was reviewing my Gmail Spam. It was for this delightful recipe for Savory Spam Crescents. Can't wait to make that. Yuck.

July 10, 2006

Roller Coaster Update

My impression that the ride on Kings Island's Son of Beast, one of the wooden roller coasters I endured several weeks ago, is unduly harsh and painful was unfortunately confirmed yesterday. 27 people were taken to the hospital after a particularly vicious jolt.

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July 8, 2006

A Perfect Day

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Tetons from Fish Creek Road

Today I grabbed my road bike and headed for the mountains. I have always loved to climb hills because the world passes slow enough to admire the flowers, listen to the birds and smell the woods. Today's ride was doubly good because I had never been on this road so each turn brought its own surprises.

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Indian Paintbrush

The road was also empty. You can tell a mountain road is seldom traveled because wild grasses flourish in the pavement cracks without being trampled and downed pine trees extend into the roadway.

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And what do I think about on thirty mile rides into the mountains?

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Scarlet Gilia

Bears. Is there one hiding behind that bush? Is it grizzlies that can climb trees or black bears? Is that bear scat in the road that the butterflies are munching on? How fast can bears run again?

When I tire of fretting about bears, I worry about mountain lions, but not too much because if a mountain lion wants me there is no escape. No need to waste time worrying about certain death.

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Wood Rose

I did see a few humans on my journey up the mountain. I came upon a man holding his cell phone above his head in the middle of the road. I thought he was taking a picture of himself in front of the distant Tetons. A few minutes later I saw a few others walking along the road. I waved as I passed. A half mile farther I came upon the broken down Jeep. Then I figured it out. The man had been trying to get cell phone service to call for help.

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Scarlet Gilia

By the time I turned around and found the stranded party, they had managed to place a call. So I continued down the mountain, going fast enough to outrun the bears (at least in my mind) so instead I worried about blowing out a tire at 40 miles an hour.

Mountain rides are beautiful, but I find riding in the foothills among the dry farms less stressful.

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Skyrocket Gilia

Anyway, the wildflowers were so beautful, LaPriel and I returned later in the afternoon to take pictures.

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July 3, 2006

Roller Coasters

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source: iStockPhoto.com

In the news last week was word of a 12-year boy who had died riding Disney’s Rock-N-Roller Coaster. No word yet on the cause of death. My heart goes out to the boy’s family. This incident struck a chord with me, because only a few weeks ago my son Bret and I subjected ourselves to roller coaster hell (okay it was nirvana for Bret). We rode seven different roller coasters in a ninety-minute time span at Kings Island Amusement Park.

I am not sure what possessed me to do this. I don’t like roller coasters. I suppose it was because I love my son and I didn’t want him to ride alone. Besides, I had something to prove. A few months ago after visiting an amusement park in Northern Idaho, Bret made the following remark to his mom about my roller coaster riding demeanor.

“You know that bored look Dad gets. Well he has that look when he rides roller coasters.”

I can safely report I no longer look bored when riding coasters.

Our second ride of the day was something called the Flight of Fear. It is modeled after the infamous Disney coaster that led to the boy’s death. The entrance to the ride is disconcerting because it’s indoors, it’s dimly lit and when we entered there wasn’t anyone around. We wandered alone through a maze of buildings until we finally came upon a half dozen individuals waiting to get on the ride. It was strangely quiet. Not the usual hoopla of anticipation you hear at the end of a roller coaster line.

The cars rolled up and Bret and I took our places toward the rear. An announcement warned us to keep our heads pressed against the back of our seats. Before I had a chance to adjust myself into the recommended position, the string of cars shot forward and up into the darkness with such force that I thought my lungs would collapse. The coaster roared as if it was in a wind tunnel. I prayed. I mean I really prayed. Prayed that I wouldn’t pass out as this car twisted and lunged and looped with such abandon that I swear it wasn’t even on a track. And it might not have been. I couldn’t tell because it was pitch black. Dark enough that Bret couldn’t see that my bored roller coaster scowl had been replaced by a look of sheer terror.

The bored look was also displaced on the several wooden coasters we rode. In this case not with terror, but with pain. There is a reason why they stopped making roller coasters out of wood. They shake. Hard. So hard that the metal restraining bar kept smashing against my waist as if I was being beaten with a rod. For the life of me, I don’t remember why I used to like wooden coasters. Or any coasters for that matter.

But kids love them, and I did too as a kid. I just don’t remember them causing me the pain they do now.

My son Camden wants to go to Ohio later this summer to ride coasters. I love him too, but he is going to have to ride alone.

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