Artistic Tendencies, Fairly Odd Parents-Present / 25.02.2007

speaking into a tin can telephone

One of the photos I found that really made my day.

It's Saturday at 5:15 am and I'm awake, anticipating my cat alarm clock will go off at any moment to say "feed me." She does this every morning sometimes starting at 4, meowing and gently touching me on the forehead with her paw to rouse me. She wants to eat. But she doesn't seem to understand on Saturdays I can sleep in, as long as I can fend off thinking of all the things I have to do today.

I get up cautiously so as not to re-injure my lower back. I've been moving very slowly the last few months, like an old man I see hunched over near work. I don't want to end up like him but it's getting close: too close for comfort. I have a lot to do today. Is my tooth hurting again? I can only take one physical malady at a time before I start the day ruminating.

I'm waiting for an important phone call. I want to write another blog post. I'm collaborating on an art project. I need to get a friend some info for a grant proposal. I'm trying to find a live photo printer who can reprint some of my photographs for a library that's decided to buy my work. (Years of no sales end exactly two weeks after I dismantled my darkroom. The irony isn't lost on me.) I'm trying to find images that will make my PowerPoint presentation shine at the conference I will be speaking at in April. And, of course, Mercury is in retrograde again.

My days always start out with a lot of promise, the promise that by the end of the day I will have accomplished an assortment of glorious things. Hope is always on the horizon as the sun rises. As the sun sets, ending with a full list of these achievements is how I evaluate the success of each day. Doesn't everybody?

Fairly Odd Parents-Present / 05.02.2007

Monopoly: A situation in which a single company owns all or nearly all of the market for a given type of product or service. This would happen in the case that there is a barrier to entry into the industry that allows the single company to operate without competition (for example, vast economies of scale, barriers to entry, or governmental regulation). Investorwords.com Comcast verses Verizon. Comcast won --this time. When the letter from Verizon informed me that fiber-optic television was now available in our area, I knew exactly what that meant. Competition had finally arrived for our TV viewing dollars. Like most parts...

Fairly Odd Parents-Present, Mechanical Aversions / 14.01.2007

No, not those implants! Spicing up a marriage with these silicon implants: Apple's Airport Express Sometimes it takes a bit of modern technology to spice up a marriage. A few well-placed silicon implants can do wonders. Last week I decided to upgrade our home wireless network. I had hacked an old DSL wireless modem to act as a router, broadcasting a wireless signal throughout our house. It had worked well for the last couple of years but we wanted more. Well, I wanted more. The signal dropped off right at the entrance to the two back bedrooms, ours and our eldest...

Child's Play, Fairly Odd Parents-Present / 23.12.2006

Notice: Seasonal and youthful spoilers below. If you are under 13, ask your parents to read this first.


A tooth-shaped note to the Tooth Fairy

My daughter's tooth- and toothbrush-shaped note to the Tooth Fairy. Is this the work of a true believer?

Parents are constantly assessing their children's progress towards independence. It starts early: are they eating too little, too much? Getting too little sleep, too much? Pooping too little or too much? Some times maturity can't come fast enough (ask my wife at the end of a hard day) and sometimes we want childhood to last forever. Our expectations, based on facts, figures and the less empirical parental feeling, are constantly being adjusted.

And so this time of the year parents all over the world conduct the Annual Fictitious Character Assessment: do they or don't they still believe in Santa Claus (and by extension, the Tooth Fairy). The AFCA metric is the first wink towards adulthood. And this week we had to test for both characters.

Unlike other measurements we must work in stealth. Different from charting our children's height and weight, we cannot use a wall or a scale to mark their progress towards the truth about Claus and the Fairy. And unlike, um, talking about the facts of life, we cannot just blurt out those facts. This must be handled with finesse and sensitivity for this is their first jolt of real world reality.

Fairly Odd Parents-Present / 16.12.2006

The Three Wise Men by three wise women (from left to right): Older Daughter, 10; Younger Daughter, 8; and Wife, Not Telling. It is "Draw Dad Week" at Chez Gates. My youngest has been drawing portraits of Mom on her bedroom whiteboard so, to be fair, she decided it was time for a portait of Dad (ok, with a little pleading from dear old dad). Her older sister and Mom decided to do one too. So I ended up with three wonderful images of me. I particularly like the attention to detail my eldest paid to my hair and beard (although,...

Fairly Odd Parents-Present, News Outta My Control / 05.11.2006

My daily routine is being reconstructed. Directions to my new subway entrance (top). Blocked entrance to my house (bottom). A creature of habit I get up every morning at 5:30. My feline alarm clock gently taps me on the shoulder or face (whichever is closest) to inform me "I'm hungry. Get out of bed!" No snooze alarm can delay the inevitable. Work is three hours away but I get up at this ungodly hour to have some quiet time: to read the paper and eat my breakfast in total peace. With this buffer I can put off the chaos of normal family...

Artistic Tendencies, Fairly Odd Parents-Past, Fairly Odd Parents-Present / 15.10.2006

When handwritten essays were introduced on the SAT exams for the class of 2006, just 15 percent of the almost 1.5 million students wrote their answers in cursive. The rest? They printed. Block letters. Margaret Webb PresslerThe Washington Post I have always enjoyed writing. By writing I mean making marks on paper. Sample of my handwriting from my high school biology notebook. Classmates said I wrote "like a girl." Click image for larger version. I have detailed memories of learning cursive in the fourth grade. I wanted handwriting just like my classmate Robin Hoenig. She had the best penmanship in the class. And...

Artistic Tendencies, Fairly Odd Parents-Present / 08.10.2006

On the Boardwalk in Wildwood, NJ Every summer my family takes a trip to the New Jersey shore. The beaches are wide and the orientation is decidedly family. But the highlight for me is Wildwood's boardwalk. We always reserve one evening to stroll in the cool night air just as the sun is setting. And every year I take my camera to document the frenetic, color-saturated scene. It's people watching at its best. After five years I've put together a slide show of some of the best from my hundreds of photographs (latest Flash plugin for your browser required). Related Life...

Fairly Odd Parents-Present, Medicinal Properties / 02.09.2006

Salt Water Taffy Box

A souvenir from my recent vacation decapitated me!

Before beginning the procedure Deb, the dental technician initiated some preliminary chit-chat. "What brings you here today?" she asked. Offering up my porcelain crown I said, "It came off."

"Crowns don't just come off," she replied.


• • •

One of the unspoken rules traditions of a summer beach trip is to bring back a box of salt water taffy for your cube mates. For those sequestered in the office while you were sunbathing it's a sweet reminder of the pleasures of a leisurely sojourn to the shore (and after your fourth piece the sugar high makes that three hour meeting go so much faster).

While this confection isn't high on my personal list of favorites (I'm a closeted chocoholic) I always enjoy a good chew. So when I returned to the office after a week in Wildwood, New Jersey a one pound box of James' Salt Water Taffy accompanied me on my morning commute.

After regaling my coworkers with the salient details of my trip I pulled the box from my backpack. I was rewarded with a collective "Oooo" of anticipation. I had fulfilled my duty and this would be a better-than-normal Monday for all. And as the initiator of our office bliss I took the ceremonial first pick of the box: a light green "cut to fit the mouth" taffy --that's what it says on the box-- that turned out to be mint rather than the lime I had hoped for.

I returned to my desk to read my backlog of emails while rolling the mint slab around my mouth. You have to toss it a bit to soften it up before you start chewing. But as I did suddenly I felt an addition to my little minty morsel: my #19 molar's porcelain cap. Skillfully retrieving it from my mouth I examined it closely for any damage. The last time this happened it came out in pieces. That was an expensive mistake. But this time I was lucky. It was totally intact. A simple reattachment was all I'd require. I immediately made an appointment with my dentist for the next afternoon.

When I got home that night I carefully removed the crown from its special CD jewel case (it was the only enclosure I could find at my desk). My children were most interested in seeing "the tooth" close up. They were mesmerized by its translucent bluish color (from the metal under casing). But they nixed any notion I had that I was now eligible for the tooth fairy.

Fairly Odd Parents-Present / 27.08.2006

View of the beach from our balcony through out the day.

With time on my hands I photographed the seashore from our condo's balcony throughout the day.

I was looking forward to our Vacation About Nothing: a week at the beach. When I meditate (I'm quite the novice), the vision I grab is one of me laying on a huge blanket next to the ocean water, the sound of the waves taking me to "my other place." My sister-in-law recently loaned me her white noise machine, which included a wave sound, but it just didn't cut it. There is nothing like the real thing. And I was so looking forward to it.

Spending a few days at the New Jersey shore has become a tradition in our family. For the past five years we've spent 4 days and 3 nights at the Bal Harbour Motel in Wildwood Crest, New Jersey. But this year we decided to try something a little different. After scouring the Web and Google Earth we rented a condo right across from our old hotel. Instead of a few days at the shore we'd have a week. We were filled with anticipation. Sight unseen (except for a satellite view) we arrived at our place, a half block from the beach with a full balcony view of the ocean. We were most pleased.

View of the beach from our balcony through out the day.

My girls had their own room. My mother-in-law and sister-in-law had their own room, as did my wife and me. The view was spectacular and the accommodations and amenities luxurious compared to our old digs across the street. I was ready for some serious R & R where I would immerse myself in another world, free of stress. Total relaxation in order to recharge your batteries for the rest of the year: isn't that what these beach trips are about?

Yes, in my dreams and deep meditative states. While the trip was indeed relaxing I can tell you with authority that it's hard, no impossible to completely eliminate the outside world. Nothing is perfect, not even that perfect beach trip.

But like the true Type A that I am, I've come home and created a balance sheet that outlines those things that could keep me up at night verses those that put me to sleep. Borrowing from Wired Magazine's monthly Wired/Tired/Expired comparison chart for the latest memes, I offer you my own (Just a Little) Wired/Tired (But Relaxed) list: