wiki wednesday on thursday

It's time for Wiki Wednesday:

1. Go to wikipedia.
2. Click on "random article" on the left-hand sidebar.
3. Post it!

Yesterday got away from me, and I didn't have the wherewithal to post my wiki wednesday entry, which was actually a good one. Which is to say a random entry that I recognize. Although I've never been a Van Halen fan, ever, the musical pop culture is right up my alley.

OU812 is the eighth album by American hard rock band Van Halen, released in 1988. The album title is allegedly a joke on former band member David Lee Roth's 1986 album Eat 'Em and Smile (OU812 translates phonetically to "Oh, you ate one too?"). However, "OU812" was also seen in the 70s sitcom "Taxi" written on a wall. [1]

The original European release (as shipped in France, Germany, Italy and the UK) is missing track 10, as are all vinyl pressings of the album. The CD and cassette versions have Track 10. (Note: some U.S. cassette versions of "OU812" did not contain Track 10.) The track listing on the back cover is arranged in alphabetical order, instead of chronological.

Many people found the production on this album weak. Eddie's guitar sits even lower in the mix, and its sound, as on 5150 does not resemble the loud, bright sound on the Roth era albums. However, the crisp acoustic western sound and style on Finish What Ya Started was well received as a first for the band [2].

One song, "Cabo Wabo" was a reference to the band's, particuarly Sammy Hagar's, love of the Mexican port town of Cabo San Lucas. The band later opened a Cabo Wabo restaurant and cantina in the city, as well as other American locations. However, the venture was soon bought out to be owned by Hagar in its entirety. Hagar later parlayed this into a premium tequila brand sold around the world, Cabo Wabo[3]

The album is dedicated to Eddie's and Alex's father, Jan, who died that year at the age of 66. The inner linings of the album include the words, "This one's for you, pop." Jan Van Halen had previously appeared playing clarinet on one track, "Big Bad Bill (Is Sweet William Now)," on Van Halen's 1982 album, Diver Down[4].

Read more and see the album play list here.

C

I’m always looking for new ways to listen to songs in my itunes library, especially if it’s been a while since I’ve added new music. Currently, my music is organized alpha by song. “C” is an especially good mix with a healthy dose of soul, alt, Frank, 80s, 90s, and now. Herewith:

1. "Camel Walk" (Southern Culture on the Skids)
2. "Can’t Set Rules About Love" (Adam Ant)
3. "Canary in a Coalmine" (The Police)
4. "Candy" (Iggy Pop and Kate Pierson)
5. "Cartoon" (Soul Asylum)
6. "Catch Hell Blues" (White Stripes)
7. "Cattle and Cane" (Go-Betweens)
8. "Cha Cha Cha" (Jimmy Luxury)
9. "Chicken Payback" (A Band of Bees)
10. "City of Blinding Light" (U2)
11. "Come Dance with Me" (Frank Sinatra)
12. "Concrete Jungle" (The Specials)
13. "Country Girl" (Sugarman Three)
14. "Crater Lake" (Liz Phair)
15. "Cut That Line" (Sharon Jones)
16. "Cutter" (Echo and the Bunnymen)

addition to the blogroll

Earlier today, I was tipped off to a new-to-me blog. Places I Have Never Been features graphic designer Jennifer Hill's drawings and musings of imaginary travels to real places. I dig her illustrations and have made a point to check out the note cards and prints in her online store.

Excuse me now, while I lose myself in her archives.

honkin' huge TV

How does one go from wanting to get rid of the television—bane of my existence, bane of my children’s existences—to becoming the proud owner of a 46-inch flat screen TV*?

I’m not really sure either. But when I saw the vivid green playing field on Monday Night Football, players leaping out of the screen into the den, I wondered how we’d ever lived as long as we did without an enormous TV.

Yes, I understand the absurdity of the big TV, which didn’t even fit into my station wagon’s way-back. Not to mention that the TV was stupidly expensive—we were a little embarrassed to tell our closest friends. But, I won’t mind it at all when the fall line-up starts tonight.

*Perhaps the point would be illustrated better if the jpeg I borrowed from Sony was a little larger. Anyway, we purchased a Bravia.

house of chairs

I have a fetish for chairs. The more dramatic, the better.

William Haines, 1920s actor-turned-designer, designed this stunning modern chair in a just-so yellow leather.I love the low-slung profile and the lack of armrests.

Learn more about Haines here. Font-hounds will appreciate the typeface.

rainy day

St. Paul is in the throes of a rainy day—sometimes drizzling, other times positively monsoonal. By all rights, it’s a good day to wallow in it. The overcast gray sky precisely matches my mild depression, which has been provoked by a lousy night of sleep, not to mention a persistent sore throat, congestion, and skin sensitivity. I’m on the verge of a sneeze with no relief in sight. Cold-and-flu season is knocking, and I forgot to look out the peephole before I opened.

I’d like to decamp to the sofa in our den. Curl up with a good book. Turn on the Food Network for background noise. John would bring me soup and wake-up tea. The boys would play quietly or cuddle with me. My fantasy life is simple.

Instead, I’m at the office where the lights are too bright and coworkers voices are too loud. Work is super stressful right now. The pub team is swimming in projects; we’re feeling the affects of being short an editor; and we’re getting up to speed with a new designer.

Still, I love what I do and, as always, I work best under immense amounts of pressure. I’m currently juggling two issues that need to be paginated and two issues that need new editorial written (including editor’s letters, contents, captions, a testimonial, and a new feature article). I’ve been asked to rewrite nearly all the text on a cover, not to mention editing coworkers’ stuff. And, well, I could go on, but what would be the point.

Some days are like that—even in Australia.

Reading: United States of Arugula, David Kamp’s lively and appetite-piquing account of the American Food Revolution

Listening (audio book): Jane Austen’s brilliant Pride and Prejudice—a 39 for 39 title that I’m trying to finish by the end of the month.

Listening (music): Big Country’s “Where the Rose Is Sewn”—big shout-out to another Jen S for reminding me of a favorite band and song from the early 80s. Hard not to get choked up over timeless lyrics such as: “If I die in a combat zone, box me up and ship me home.”

A tale of two Carolines, part 1

Caroline Yang

Way back in July, I mentioned here that John hung the Caroline Yang photograph we had purchased, but I feel like I'd just sort of dropped her name as if everyone knows who she is. Caroline takes amazing photos and counts Sports Illustrated, cyclingnews.com, Cycle Sport, and the (St. Paul) Pioneer Press as some of her clients. She also does outrageously cool shots of speed skaters. To wit:



We first became familiar with Caroline last year when One on One Bike Gallery in Minneapolis put up a show of the photos that Caroline took at the 2005 Tour de France. My first impression was that she took wonderful candid photos of individual riders who often are swallowed by the peloton. We missed that show, but vowed that if Gene O. did another for the 2006 TdF, we'd make it over to the shop. Well, he did and so we went.

I've got to say, all the dopers featured in Caroline's photos raised my blood pressure—which is absolutely NOT a reflection on her work, merely commentary on the sad state of pro cycling. Imagine my delight, then, when John showed me this beaut, which embodies everything we hold dear about European stage races: peloton, fans, mountains. The photo had already been purchased so Caroline agreed to make another for us and have it framed before her baby was born (about a three week window).


The framed photo is enormous (at least 3 feet wide) and hangs in our studio—the room many would call the living room, but where John and I do most of our creative work. Since the wall is about 18 feet high, and because I took this photo at a crazy angle, the picture looks puny.

Here's another view of the Col du Tourmelet from Caroline's website. You know John Shepard dreams of climbing this mountain, dancing on the pedals all the way. The peloton beckons under a scene that is lucid and bright.

Doin' the ipod shuffle

Ten random songs from my ipod library:

1. Bed's Too Big without You (The Police)—a long live version with complex reggae riffs
2. Mountain Song (Jane's Addiction)
3. Chorus (Erasure)
4. Jew Blues (New Orleans Klezmer All-Stars)
5. Bosco's Blues (The Sugarman Trio)
6. All That Money Wants (Psychelic Furs)
7. Waste It On (Silversun Pickups)
8. Sunday Bloody Sunday (U2)
9. Credit in the Straight World (Hole)
10. Basket Case (Green Day)

All together, these songs make a surprisingly good mix.

What are you listening to?

Not malignant

Yay!!! My lab report says NOT MALIGNANT in all caps.

A few weeks ago I was at the dermatologist for a skin issue, clearly, and he happened to notice the largish mole on my lower back. The very largish mole I cannot see but I know exists because countless massage therapists have told me it's there. Mostly I forget it's there. Sometimes I make a note to have it checked.

So, I had an appointment to see Dr. Stansbury about something else and planned to tell him about the mole in an "oh, by the way" manner, but he beat me to it. As a matter of business, he asked to see my back, and the next thing I hear is, "I need to get some film on this."

After magnifying the mole and photographing it, I could see that it very closely resembled the scary posters that hang on the back of doors at the dermatologist's office. Surgery was prescribed, which sounds more serious than necessary. Dr Stansbury also handed me a brochure and said, "Memorize this." The brochure was jam-packed with info about skin cancer and about how to do monthly spot checks. He also advised me, "Never get another sun burn."

Last week I had the mole removed, which is a slightly invasive procedure requiring stitches. The stitches were pretty cool, if very itchy. But, they're out now. I'm mending nicely and the biopsy came out okay and I'm never going to neglect a mole again.

And, one last thing, although I don't usually like to preach, I'm saying: Check. Your. Moles.

wiki wednesday

It's time for Wiki Wednesday:

1. Go to wikipedia.
2. Click on "random article on the left-hand sidebar.
3. Post it!

I have my fingers crossed for a really good entry today. And, it's the IBM Future Systems project, which, since I hate to clog up bandwidth, you should read more about at the source.

The Future Systems project was a research project at IBM aiming to develop new software models which would simplify software development by exploiting modern powerful hardware.

"You've never seen so much air-drumming"

On Monday morning, I had to read music critic Chris Riemenschneider's review of the Rush concert in the Star Tribune, not so much because I care what he thinks but because I fell asleep at the concert and I was dying to find out how it ended.

Now that I have your attention—for the record, I did not fall asleep, but I may as well have for the concert was l-o-n-g, and I didn't recognize enough of the songs to stay invested. Sorry, but it's true.

The show wasn't boring by any means. In fact, this may have been the most electrically charged concert I have ever attended, with over 12,000 fans ON THEIR FEET for the better part of three hours. The Police, whom I saw in concert in July, and their fans, were comatose by comparison. I know it's not fair to compare Rush to the Police—there is a certain blasphemy to that—but let's just say every member of Rush was "on" and seemed happy to playing together. And their fans rewarded them for that.

Here is a true confession—John and I left during intermission. Yes, intermission. There was no opening band. Rush went on stage at about 7:45 and played until about 9:15, then took a break. During the intermission, John and I started listing all the things we needed to do before we went to bed, stuff like signing a bunch of school forms for the boys, picking up milk at the grocery store, and so on. At some point, John said, "Why don't we go?" Really, we can do that? Just leave in the middle of a rock concert? Won't we lose our credibility among our friends who would never go to a rock concert let alone go to a rock concert on a school night? John said, "Yes, really it would be alright if we left now." So, after assuring security that we were leaving for the evening, not just going outside to smoke pot, we left the building.

What if we had stayed?

Of the twelve songs Rush played in the first set, I knew two. Admittedly, those two songs—"Limelight" and "Free Will"—rocked hard even if Geddy Lee did not hit the high notes. John and I knew we both ran the risk of missing a classic-laden second set. Imagine my relief when I learned in Riemenschneider's review that the twenty-seven songs played left out many of the "radio-familiar" hits.

Another true confession: I'm not much of a Rush fan but I do love disc one of Retrospective, which covers the bands greatest hits from, oh, 1974-1980. If we had stayed, we would have heard an "insanely elaborate" drum solo on "Tom Sawyer," which I would have loved to have seen and heard. But, to be honest, we likely wouldn't have made it that far into the show.

Here's what I liked about the show: exceptionally tight band, spectacular lighting (even the circa 1980s laser show), dedicated fans (especially the Wayne and Garth-ish duo a few rows down who wer out-of-their-minds excited), air-drumming (Neal Peart is a god, what can I say?), and the music from the band's new album.

I still have a few burning questions.

1. Can someone explain to me the large ovens and the rotisserie chickens that roadies would occasionally baste? Was it an inside joke? Did the chickens feed the hungry crew after the show? Were the chickens raffled to audience members after the concert?

2. How can you not play "Xanadu"?

3. What kind of a name is Geddy?

Weekend report: September 8 and 9

A staggeringly busy, but fun, weekend was had by all. We kicked it off with Friday cocktails—Rob Roys (scotch, red vermouth, and bitters) and a nice piece of Brie de Meaux, which was slathered on Lesley Stowe's Rainforest Crisps (the hazelnut and cranberry variety).

The boys had their first fall soccer game on Saturday morning. Since we'd all had such a great time doing Blackhawks this summer—and by all, I do mean kids and parents—I talked the Warches and the Hamiltons into signing up for Groveland Rec soccer. It's a great location for us as we can mosy up the hill, and I love seeing other families spill out of our neighborhood. Needless to say, our united requests for soccer buddies were denied. Theo is a little stressed out about not knowing anyone on his team, and Sydney's pretty bummed out. Simon is somewhat indifferent and made two new friends on his team by INTRODUCING HIMSELF. I am so very proud of him. I made the rounds, watching a little soccer and chatting with parents. Despite the situation with the kids being on separate teams—which may be a bigger drag for the parents—the boys had a great time. And so did I. Winston made all the goals on his team. One of the kid's from Win's team last fall is on his team again, as are Sheila F's daughters (Sheila, a high school friend of my sister, lives in my neighborhood).

After soccer, we stopped by Regina's Candies. The boys didn't know this place existed, even after three years of living down the hill from the shop. We have to drive by it every day—I would have to be completely insane to have let them know any sooner. Simon figured it out when we walked by on Thursday, following their soccer meetings. He doesn't seem to be angry at the lie of omission—though I'm sure he's keeping it buried for his therapist to discover later in life—and plans to rot all his beautiful new permanent teeth on purchases made here. Just wait until I tip off Dr. O'Kane.

Then, I drove to Osseo, in the northwest corner of the metro, to visit my childhood friend Ann. She and her husband, Ken, were hosting a yard party, taking advantage of Osseo's annual carnival. They're on the parade route. The boys had a blast scooping up candy tossed from parade participants. Friend Jen S. (formerly Jenny E.—I think we were all Jennys at some point), also a friend from my hometown, was there with her husband and two beautiful children.

It was so good to see these two old friends—it had been way too long. Really criminally too long. Both are doing very well. We've made plans to see more of each other, which I hope we do. I'm the first to admit that life has a way of getting out of control. Or maybe we get into these grooves that are hard to get out of. I'm not talking about ruts either, because if I've learned anything with a career, a husband, and children, it's that routine works.

On Sunday, John and I took the boys to the Farmers Market where we hit Golden's for breakfast bagels—and, oh, the garden-ripe tomatoes and red onions were amazing on this. We picked up more tomatoes (I'd be surprised if we see any next week), broccoli, green beans (the last batch was fantastic), corn, and otherworldly brussel sprouts on the stalk. Then we made the rounds so the boys could say hello to the Bison guy.

We dropped Winston at Anders' house, then had a shopping spree with Simon. First stop: Target for a few essentials and a trip down the Ben 10 aisle. I'm proud of Simon. He didn't see the alien he wanted to buy, and allowance be damned, he walked out of the store without purchasing anything. He's really getting very mature at window shopping. Maybe he can teach his mother a lesson. Next stop: Patagonia, where John bought a corduroy blazer (very Paper Chase with suede elbow patches) and a kick-ass pair of shoes. He is so ready for NoCal. Final stop: The Comic Shoppe where Simon picked up a Pokeman booster pack and I bought a Nancy Drew graphic novel, which I can't wait to read, but will have to wait until I find the issue that precedes it. Naturally I didn't notice before I made my purchase that the book was part two of three.

Later in the day we hit the library and went visiting the Cohen-Murphys. And, John and I skipped yet another annual Alley Cat party to see Rush at the Xcel. More on that later—Blogger is about to boot me. And I'm rambling. I hate rambling.

wiki wednesday

It's time for Wiki Wednesday.

1. Go to wikipedia.
2. Click on "random article" on the left-hand sidebar box.
3. Post it!

Oh. Dear. Lord. This entry begs for references and citations.

Casual gamer is a term used to describe a type of video game player whose time or interest in playing games is limited compared with a hardcore gamer. They can be found playing games across all genres and of varying levels of complexity and difficulty. However, they do not devote the amount of time or practice to video games spent by hardcore gamers. Whereas a hardcore gamer may approach gaming with the mindset of a professional, a casual gamer would think more like a hobbyist.

Casual gamers can conceivably consist of any people who show more than a passing interest in video games, therefore it is difficult to categorize them as a group. For this reason games which attempt to appeal to the casual player tend to strive for simple rules and ease of game play, the goal being to present a pick-up-and-play experience that people from any age group or skill level could enjoy.

Not all gamers who play casual games are themselves casual gamers.

Usage of the term

The term casual is often misleadingly used to describe a class of hardcore gamers who play massively multiplayer online games, a type of game which is generally not casual by definition. In that case the term is used with various meanings, most often to differentiate players between 2 or more specific gameplay preferences. For example, the term casual is sometimes used to identify a player who spends significantly less time playing than other players. Alternatively the term is used to identify a player who spends a significant amount of time playing but prefers less competitive or time intensive activities to productivity maximization (rapid character development, rapid income production, acquiring the best possible equipment etc.).

What I did on my summer vacation

Finally, summer break is over and done for another year. Am I busted up? No. As a rule, I'm not a huge fan of summer. Yes, I was one of those rare, freakish kids who couldn't wait to be back in school because she didn't know what to do with herself in the summer. Be that as it may, I do appreciate the improved weather and enjoy summer activities, such as shopping at the Farmers Market, swimming at outdoor pools and in lakes, and golfing, to name a few. And, I am a little dismayed by how fast summer seems to pass. Maybe it's an adult perspective.

Even though fall is several weeks away, not to mention that we're in the midst of a short heat wave, leaves are starting to change colors. My time of year is coming and I feel fine.

This summer was pretty jam-packed with activity. Although we didn't manage to get in a family vacation, we did plenty. Okay, maybe it was the boys who did plenty as part of their summer program (trip to Valleyfair, a Lynx game). Simon took a ten-day vacation in Montana with Gpa and Gma. We had house guests for a week—Will, Helena, Bjorn, and Sophia visited from Stockholm, Sweden. We took a trip to Princeton, NJ, to visit Dorothy and David, and took a side trip to Philadelphia to see the King Tut exhibit. In late July, John rode RAGBRAI with Steve. It felt like the summer was full.

Yesterday was the first day of public school in St. Paul. Simon, who started second grade, was positively vibrating with excitement over being reunited with many friends he hadn't seen over the summer, as well as with his teacher, Mrs. Cochran. Kindergarteners don't start until tomorrow so I've had the pleasure of Winston's company, though we did have a "goal-setting" meeting yesterday with his teacher, Ms. Maura.

Winston has come to work with me the past few mornings. Today we met John at his new office, which has some really excellent cubicles (with ergonomic desks that you can raise) and lovely amenities (including an especially nice, large, loungy breakroom). Then we all ate pizza at Cossetta's.

After lunch, Winston and I headed for the MOA to shoe shop at Nordstrom's—and I must say we both made out rather well. Winston found a great pair of Saucony running shoes with yellow trim ("yellow is a symbol for 'fast'"), while I picked up a pair of dark red patent ballet flats and a very comfortable black pump with plaid piping. Red, plaid, ballet flats and skimmers, and pumps with a high heel in a contrasting color were the predominant styles and colors at Nordstrom's. Oh, and I scored a free tube of Laura Mercier lipstick in a color/formula that's about to be discontinued. I love Nordstrom's!

So, now it's time to gear up for fall. John and I have concert tickets to Rush at the Xcel Center (this weekend) and to Sharon Jones at First Avenue (in November). I'm looking forward to a turning a new leaf with a milestone birthday. In October, John and I travel to San Francisco to celebrate said birthday, partaking in fine food and in the pleasure of our own company. Then in November, I'm going to spend a long weekend in New York City with Tracy, Jill Y, and Jill S, as the former and latter are also celebrating the same milestone birthday as I am. Shopping and siteseeing for all my friends. We'll likely be in Princeton for Christmas, and I'm hoping my friend Krista will visit for Thanksgiving. And, publishing starts its fall season of books, which is always a happy time!