WANTED: SWF who enjoys good music, home cooking, and has a bit of a geeky side. Late 20s, early 30s preferred.

I'm just joking around, but I just got a ticket to see Rilo Kiley at the Abbey at the end of the month, and I'm going to get ticket(s) to see Ben Kweller at the end of October. The night before I go see Wilco, actually.

My point is this: there is absolutely nothing I love more (other than having a beer with a few friends at a good pub) than going to see a band I love play a live show.

And why is it so fucking hard to find someone who likes to do the same damn thing?

I've had enough of island living.

WEEKEND WRAP-UP

FRIDAY

Oswego/Geneva, ILL: T and I went over to a meeting of the Card Club. That's a cute li'l name my married friends give each other, because they sometimes like to get together to play cards. Although I think the last time we played cards was about 2 years ago. Ate pizza, chatted, blah blah blah. Good time, but since I don't have kids (nor am I married), sometimes I feel a little out of the loop.

Then T and I met up with Prince Fan and one of her friends, and we headed north to Geneva to meet up with several other friends of ours. Also married, but no kids yet. Just dogs. Drank it up at a martini bar whilst listening to a two-man jazz combo that rocked. Or jazzed. Can jazz "rock?" Well, they were cool nonetheless.

Wrapped up the night at a Geneva Irish bar. One of those new "authentic Irish" places that know how to poor Guinness, but lack the soul of a real pub.

SATURDAY




Aurora/Oswego/Yorkville, ILL: Spent most of the day reading and relaxing. Had a long workout. I've been exercising quite a bit lately, but do I lose weight? No, of course not. But I still refuse to jump on the South Beach thing that Joe's been pushing.

Saturday night was spent in rural Oswego/Yorkville on a large piece of property with many trees, gardens, corn fields, and old people. It was the annual Farm Fest that the Parkhursts throw, and I was invited once again, mostly because I taught their daughter for two years, but Scott P. and I went on a bike trip together with Father Phil once, and we occasionally sit down for a beer or two.


But tonight I wasn't in much mood to socialize with older people I didn't really know. I was very happy to just sit and smoke my pipe and look at the stars, since I don't get many good views of them ever since I left Sandwich. I think people thought I was being ignored, so I got dragged into a long conversation about ancient Oswego football lore. And as you know, there's nothing I like to do more than talk about Oswego football.

I eventually escaped by a little help from Di. We played around with our respective digital cameras for a while, trying to make sense of all the different settings. Took a few pics, ate some food, said my goodbyes, and went home.

SUNDAY



Chicago, ILL: After the usual Sunday morning routine of coffee and the Sunday Tribune, I headed into the city towards Grant Park and Celtic Fest. Had to do this one solo, since no one was really interested in missing the Bears game to eat fish and chips and listen to jigs and reels.

Chicago Celtic Fest 2004 was like a miniature, all-Irish version of the Taste of Chicago. You purchased food and drink with tickets, and the free entertainment at the Petrillo Music Shell was the Saw Doctors instead of people like Elvis Costello or Wilco. On the second stage I saw the Bogside Zukes perform for the first time in probably six years. All of the original members are gone except for lead singer Matt Coker. I have no idea what happened to the rest of the band. Their most recent CD even has a picture of Emily (fiddle) and Bruce (mandolin, banjo, fiddle, and vocals). But they're all gone now. The new guys are good, and most of their set was drawn from the traditional tunes the Zukes played at Jimmy's in Peoria, and if I closed my eyes and thought hard enough, it was almost like being back there.

But those guys are all gone now, and the Zukes don't even play at Jimmy's much anymore.

To wrap up my day I walked up Michigan Avenue to poke around at the Virgin Megastore for rare CDs I can't find at my local Borders. Found an earlier Rilo Kiley album, but that was it. Selection was very poor. Thank you, assholes who download music for free. Do you realize how financially difficult you've made it for record stores to stock smaller bands on independent labels? I can't find a single copy of The Scotland Yard Gospel Choir (not really a gospel choir) album anywhere, but at least I can get plenty of R. Kelly and Shania Twain albums.

No politics, no funny pictures, no deep analysis of pop culture. Just my weekend. Hope yours was swell.

Dear Mr. President,

If you won't listen to us ilberal freaks, then listen to what your own party is telling you.

WARNING: The following post contains much geekiness. And no politics. Be warned.



The original Star Wars trilogy finally comes out on DVD next Tuesday. Yes, not the original, but an altered version that Lucas keeps tinkering with. This newest edition has a few new changes since the 1997 Special Editions, including the young Anakin Skywalker now appearing at the end of Jedi with Yoda and Obi-Wan instead of his previous old self.

I'm not going to waste time complaining about whether or not Lucas should be doing these things. I used to hate it, but now I really don't care. In my opinion, my love of those movies from when I was a kid is unchanged. Growing up with Star Wars was a great thing. I don't really care for the new ones, but I'll still be there on opening day to see Revenge of the Sith.

If Lucas wants to bring the original trilogy more in line with his latest round of Star Wars, well, why not? They're his movies, and he can do with them as he pleases.

Why do I say this? Because (get ready geeks) the good Professor Tolkien did it himself to The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. He wrote The Hobbit in 1937, and while he was writing the sequel (LOTR), he went back and changed a few elements of The Hobbit to connect better to The Lord of the Rings. For example, the outcome of the riddle-game was changed to fit the growing mythology of the ring Tolkien had elaborated upon. There were other changes here and there in both books, but I won't bother you with them.

The point is: sometimes when an artist alters a work it might be for a good reason. The reason Lucas catches so much shit from the fanboys is that Star Wars is a movie, not a book, and it's easier to notice such changes. More importantly, Star Wars is such a phenomenal part of our lives, and to see it altered is to see a bit of our childhood forever changed. But it's not like Lucas is doing something unheard of in the long annals of geekdom. The current Holiest of Holies was changed, too.

But that's life, guys. I hate that Greedo now shoots first, but oh well. Get over it and start being an adult. Those original editions will show up one of these days. And if not, we've got the memories, which is the most important thing.

Camp Z-Ray was a success. I fell asleep moments after I set it up (and had a shot of NyQuil for added help.) Unfortunately I only got about 5 hours of sleep, so today I was a bit of a zombie.

At one point in the evening I pounded heavily on the wall, to match the rhythmic pounding my neighbor was producing on the other side. This morning I left a note on his door: "Sorry about pounding on the walls, but your music was too loud and I couldn't sleep."

So we'll see what tonight brings. I have spent this evening rearranging my bedroom so that my bed no longer butts up against the "shared" wall. Maybe that'll help.

I'm a light sleeper, you see. And so I get rather picky and angry when my normal routine is messed up. Once, the volume on my old alarm clock was turned down all the way, but I still woke up just by hearing the "click" of the alarm turning on.

Don't fuck with my sleep, man.

Dear Jesus,

Thank you for many things, but mostly, thank you for my new neighbor. You know, the one that plays music all fucking night. Doesn't ring a bell? Come on. It's the one that seems to love nocturnal activities where something gets rammed against the wall dividing our apartments night after night after night after night.

I have now set up a little camp in my living room, where I now sleep.

I am so completely close to a nervous breakdown right now, people. Someone get me the fuck out of here as soon as possible before I finally lose it.

It never rains, but it pours...

After spending most of last weekend holed up in my apartment watching Freaks and Geeks, my schedule for this weekend has suddenly become rather busy. T and I are going to two parties on Friday; just was invited to a big outdoor cookout thing on Saturday, and Sunday?

Celtic Fest in Chicago, people.
The Bogside Zukes are even playing. They're an Irish band I used to listen to in college. They played at this little pub in Peoria called Jimmy's. Tuesday nights were the best. The lads and I would sit and drink Guinness and listen to the Zukes play in a corner.

The band has changed a lot since then, with the lead singer being the only original member left. But I'd still like to go cheer them on. They're playing downtown for crying out loud!

So who's up for a Sunday trek to Grant Park?

This may be the geekiest thing I've ever said, but I would love to go live in England and study word origins of the English language.

Poll time: anyone else really fucking fed up with Blogger right now? I've spent many hours praising this damn site, but right now I'm getting fed up with never being able to write, save, update, blah blah blah.

I still hate Xanga more, though...

Today I'm just going to write about stuff I saw this weekend:

Saw Hero on Sunday. Good movie, very cool images, but a lot of people think it's better than Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, and I have to disagree. People are suddenly trashing CTHD for being too slow, or not "Chinese" enough. Meh. In Hero, the story isn't nearly as deep at CTHD, and while the action sequences are more plentiful in Hero, they're just not as interesting. Plus the translation was pretty bad. For a Zhang Yimou film at least. Don't get me wrong; I liked it. I'm very excited about Zhang's follow-up, The House of Flying Daggers, which comes out this Fall. But pretty colors and bad-ass wuxia fighting only goes so far. You gotta have soul. There were a bunch of nimrods sitting next to me who kept laughing during the ending, so that might have ruined it a bit for me.




Watched the entire 18-episode run (before NBC dumped it) of Freaks and Geeks this weekend as well. (Yes, I'm a loser, baby, that's all I did.) I'm just going to say this: Knowing that the people of America prefer Fear Factor to Freaks and Geeks just makes me doubt this country even more than I do already.

Rilo Kiley's "It's a Hit" is the best single I've heard in a long while. The album is good, too, but "It's a Hit" is beyond anything else on there. I can't tell you why I like it, really; I just like it. The whole salt-shaker line, the "shoo-bops" and "It's a holiday for a hangin'."


Oh, and George Bush is a liar and a very evil man, and must be stopped. Just in case you didn't know.

I was buying groceries a little while ago when I passed a group of well-dressed young women. I caught one of them out of the corner of my eye and immediately thought, "Hey, I know her!" They were walking at a brisk pace and in the middle of a conversation, so they were long gone before I got a chance to say hello or catch a return glance.

Right after that happened I realized that I knew her, but couldn't remember who she was, or from where I knew her. I scanned through all the faces of people I had worked with or knew through different friends, and I couldn't match her up anywhere. Her face is burned into my head right now, and I know I know her, I know I've had conversations with her, heard her say my name, but I just can't place where I know her.

It doesn't freak me out so much that I can't remember where I know her from; we all have people that we've known for a little while, who fade away from our memories. What disturbs me more is that I can remember this girl, but not the situation. I don't think I ever taught with her, or went to school with her, or did theatre with her. It's like there's this whole other little life I had for a while, where she existed, and that part's gone. There's this little chunk of my life that I have completely forgotten about.

And that is one freaky idea to contemplate.

Tonight's entry is brought to you by the lyrics of Ben Kweller:

Sometimes I wish I had a farm
Where the only pollution is your cigarettes
Where your mind is clear.
But I like it here in my small space.
New York's the place where the sidewalks know my face
As I walk to

My apartment, the home where I hide
Away from all the darkness outside.
I'm there all the time.

Bikes ride to the park and city pools.
It's summer now; empty the school.
Fly home to my cat on the F train.
I'm protected from pain
When I'm in

My apartment, the home where I hide
Away from all the darkness outside.
I'm there all the time.

I'm there in my apartment, the home where I hide
Away from all the darkness outside.

I'm there all the time

What do you suppose the life age of a blog is? Are these going to be as ubiquitous as email someday? "Here's my email, and my blog address!"

The great number of bloggers out there seem to be young people in their late teens/early twenties. Is this because blogging is for the young? That tends to be the age when people are the most self-centered, so a blog about themselves seems like a natural outgrowth.

But...blogging has only been "hot" for a little while. Most blogs are either a) 2-3 months old, or maybe 3-5 years if the person's really been into it. So are blogs just exiting infancy, learning to walk and talk, and developing personalities of their own? Since they're pretty new, again they would first be attractive to the young and tech-savvy.

I tend to be on the older side of bloggers. Even though Tony Pierce says he's ancient, I figure he's mid-30s tops. So that's a good sign that one of the more respected bloggers out there is around my age. In other words, I'm not alone.

Why do I blog? Some people would probably point to the self-centered thing. And they may be right. I blog because I like to write, and this has finally been the best spot to put down the little scribblings I usually leave in the margins of notebooks and legal pads at work.

How long will this thing last? Hard to say. The Madpony girls didn't make it out of college; Raymi seems to be taking a break (or not, if you read today's entry), or morphing into something new. Do blogs just capture a brief moment of someone's life? the 21st century version of the high school diaries and journals people keep?

Speaking of, here are a couple of the better high school blogs out there from some of the Limelight crew, if you're into such things:

Just a Griffin Through Life and Too Frumpy for the Teenage Population. (Happy Belated Birthday, by the way.)

And a couple of other shout-outs to some of my more active readers (i.e. Comments = Attention!)

The Holywriter and Robodopeness, who just recently moved to Chicago. I say Robo and Psynorm meet up at Navy Pier, Sunday at dawn, and see who can swim across Lake Michigan first. The king himself (me) shall draw the checkered flag.

Summer's over, and as usual I am glad.

Why, you ask incredulously? I'm not sure. As a teacher, summer means the glories of sleeping in, staying up late, and not worrying about work for 10-12 weeks or so. (Well, Limelight Theatre keeps me very busy for 6 weeks in the beginning, so I really only get about 4-6 weeks of actual Nothing-but-Vacation in the summer.)

These things are all wonderful, and I look forward to them every year. But the end of summer is a strange time to me. To me, it's the true End of the Year. Those dog days of August, where everything has shut down and people spend their days by the pool or on vacation, are the last gasp of what I consider to be "the year." And now that Labor Day weekend has come and gone, it's time to start up a new one.

Congress goes back into session, new television shows begin, the "good" movies start coming out, and I go back to work. Plus the temperature starts dropping, which is probably my favorite part. I'm just not a summer person. Give me the crispness of a good fall evening any day.

Ehhh. I've been trying to make this post better than it is, but it's just not happening. So I'm just going to post it and get it over with.

If the blog doesn't look quite right, blame Buzznet. It seems to be having some severe problems, which also results in my blog being messed up. Meh.

Had the Nevills Clan over for dinner last night. They're getting their kitchen redone, so my abode has become a nice alternative place for them to fix a proper meal. We celebrated Diana's 18th birthday, ate a lot, had plenty of good conversation, and I finally showed Blade Runner to Elliot. He also did a fine job getting rid of a lot of adware that had piled up on my computer. The mouse runs smoother, too, Apostle E!

It's a gloomy, wet day in northern Illinois today. Not much to do. I think I'll go into work for a while and jazz up the room. My new classroom is about the size of a small bedroom, but with concrete walls painted white and harsh fluorescent lighting. It's like being in prison.

This article appeared in the September 1st edition of the Peoria Journal-Star:

Kenny 'took us to the stars'
by Barbara Mantz Drake

Little than a month before he was diagnosed with the cancer that killed him last week, John Kenny wrote of visiting the grave of Bavarian chemist Joseph Fraunhofer, who built lenses and prisms that analyzed starlight. The tombstone read, "He took us to the stars."

Kenny, the long-time Bradley University physicist and astronomer, said he thought that "the noblest epitaph ever written for a mortal man."

There were stars in John Kenny's eyes almost from the moment he first saw them in small-town Ireland and later in the United States, his adopted land. He once said he'd be "bartending and making a little book in south St. Louis" if not for the space program. Centuries from now, he said, "the past 50 years of our Western civilization will be remembered mainly for this glorious effort."

Kenny's comment about what Western civilization will be remembered for reflects his passion for space exploration, which he said "gives us some insight into who we are and how we got here." But his assessment of an alternative career as a bartender and bookmaker was pure Irish whimsy. He was funny and fun to engage. He loved people and ideas in equal measure. He was - and there is no other way to say it - brilliant.

If there were smarter men or women, few of us ever met them. Before a classroom, John Kenny's mind raced and his questions poured forth like a meteor shower: Was God a mathematician? There is some indication of a numerical order to the world. Or was He a biologist, creating a natural world of small cells and letting the force of evolution carry it forward? Was He a gambler? Did He roll the dice and ask humans to live with what random chance produced? Oh, by the way, did you know about the physicist's mistress and how she may have affected his work? Maybe a little poetry will help make the point. Whereupon he would reach into his invisible album of memories - his was photographic - and pull out a dozen or so semi-obscure lines. Maybe, he'd jest, God was a poet.

All of this occurred in the course of a class not in religion, but in theoretical physics. In some ways there wasn't much difference for John Kenny. On a frigid Dec. 25 in the year 2000, he took three of his grandchildren outside to watch the only Christmas solar eclipse they'd see in their lifetime. They just wanted to go back inside and play with their toys.

Ah, but the universe was John Kenny's toy. For a few years he played with it at NASA, where he worked on the Gemini space program. He landed at Bradley in 1967, where he taught, parented the soccer program and launched an organization of little notoriety he called the "Deep Thinkers Club."

It was a fitting name for what he created every time he stood before a class. Whatever God may have been, John Kenny was a born teacher who encouraged his students to think big, as he believed his beloved space program did. It was a priceless gift to them and their university.

And so this epitaph, the one John Kenny said was noblest, is fittingly his own:

"He took us to the stars."

A memorial service will be held at St. Mark's Catholic Church in Peoria at 9:30 am Saturday, September 4. From 11 am to 1 pm, a reception will be held at the Bradley Student Center. After that, Michael Kenny has planned a memorial service at Jimmy's Bar in Peoria.

Bush's Bullets part two: Or, more liberal rants from Professor McSnarky.

• Check out my website!!!!!!!
• Here comes the hurt...
• He'll raise your taxes! Watch out! (Typical, typical slam against the Dems.)
• Is that all he had? Kerry is a Massachusetts senator, so beware?
• And now the big stuff I hate: get rid of abortion and the rights of homosexuals to marry
• "I will appoint hard-line conservative judges that will instill a Puritan, Bible-based orthodoxy of life into our lives for generations to come." Okay, he didn't say that, but that's what my liberal ears heard.
• September 11th. Lest we forgot.
• "I'll do whatever it takes." This is another big problem of mine. Sure, do whatever it takes to make us safe. But could you go after the guys that are actually trying to kill us? They weren't in Iraq!!! (Well, they are now, thanks to us.)
• They just dragged someone out of the arena. Did she sign a loyalty oath to get in? (Come on, how fascist is that?)
• "We gave Sadaam a chance to disarm." What was there to disarm? We had drained the bastard of virtually all chance of hurting us? (And don't start on the "But he was a bad guy!" argument. There's plenty of bad guys out there we haven't bothered to go after, but they're big and scary and we can't whup them as quick as we can Iraq.
• Free elections in Afghanistan and Iraq. Hey, I'm all for that. I just hope they last. I'm scared to death about the tipping point between democracy and the burqua that those two countries balance upon right now.
• 6 minutes left, George. Time for the big finish! (I bet it'll be about September 11th.)
• God, he's bringing up that damn $87 Billion flip-flop quote again. Chestnuts, chestnuts my preciousssss!
• Roll call of the Coalition. Britain, Japan, Poland, etc. Spain must now be in the "Coalition of the Scared Shitless."
• Israel. (AKA, "Bring it on, Jew-haters!)
• Those stupid journalists!!! Don't you just hate smart people?
• He's gone past 10:00. Well, he's the President. He can bend the rules of the Space-Prime Time continuum.
• Now he's doing stand-up. The swagger joke was good, though.
• An emotional bit about those who have lost loved ones. A nice bit. But, as I said, it all goes back to September 11th. That's their Trump Card.

Before some of you go ape-shit on me, the above comments are supposed to be sarcastic and biting. I just don't believe a lot of the positive spin Bush is putting on what I see as colossal failures of judgment. Afghanistan was right, Iraq was wrong. Tax relief is fine, but only if it goes to the people who need it most. Bringing democracy and freedom to those that do not have it is noble and just, but I don't believe that's why we're there.

Bullets on Bush: (Not what you think)

• First lines: September 11th. No surprise there.
• Iraq=Normandy. Nope, not really. Not at all.
• Strong economy: well, except for all the new poor people.
• Family, family, family. They're really pushing the whole "Waltons" thing at this convention. Daddy's so proud...
• The center of the convention. Nice touch, actually. Props from a theatre director for the Commander-in-Chief-in-the-Round.
• "A compassionate conservative ideology." Except for the gays.
• taxes, taxes, blah blah blah. Whom will the reforms benefit most?
• Umm, I'm reading an article about Bush's speech on Yahoo! News while he's giving it. What's up with that? They got a way-back machine?
• Save the OB-GYNs!!!!
• Come on, when's he gonna start calling Kerry a pussy fag??!!

Part two on the way...

In three days' time, Cuchulain with a moan
Stood up, and came to the long sands alone:
For four days warred he with the bitter tide;
And the waves flowed over him, and he died.

Dr. John Kenny died last Thursday from complications from a brain tumor. He was 66 years old. He was my former astronomy professor at Bradley University.

He was one of the finest, most inspirational teachers I have ever known. For those that know me, I didn't talk about him much, but I cannot tell you how much the guy impacted my life. When in doubt about my education and my career choice, Dr. Kenny showed the way. He stoked my love of the Irish people and culture that has become such a part of my life. He even found his way in not one but two plays I have written.

This is from his daughter's website, which chronicled his battle with glioblastoma multiforme.

A memorial service will be held at St. Mark's Catholic Church in Peoria at 9:30 am Saturday, September 4. From 11 am to 1 pm, a reception will be held at the Bradley Student Center. After that, Michael Kenny has planned a memorial service at Jimmy's Bar in Peoria.

Good bye, John. I hope you had a good life, and I am glad to hear that your family was by your side when you passed. And I hope you were thinking about Yeats.

Though I am old with wandering,
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone.
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

Ummm, I think Raymi just checked out of the blogworld, people. Am I right?

If you're out of here Lauren, good luck. I hope you find happiness soon.