Archive for the ‘Political Affairs’ Category

America swings like a pendulum do . . .

Wednesday, November 3rd, 2010

I’ve come too far to believe that politicians can actually solve problems. Elections are about a periodic effort to calibrate the degree to which they inevitably fuck things up.

Inestimable vacuum

Tuesday, March 23rd, 2010

March Exercise V —day twenty-three— Sometimes a book will accidentally get shoved behind the others on a shelf, and that’s what happened to my copy of “High Performance Health” by John Yiamouyiannis. Thinking it was long lost, I discovered it was only hidden. After a bit of skimming, it didn’t take me much time to remember that he’d outlined one of the best, most practical anti-cancer regimens I’d ever read. Ironically, “Dr. Y” died of cancer in 2000, and he was about my age. I’d lost touch with him in the 90s and, needless to say, I was stunned at the news of his demise. I can only conclude that he became so tirelessly devoted to his crusade that he neglected his own program. The other possibility is that he was covertly murdered, which wouldn’t be impossible for me to comprehend, given the powerful enemies he made over decades of bitter lawsuits and uncompromising activism. I can’t help but wonder what he’d think of the sweeping federal legislation just signed.

Today’s sight bite— The initial shock of the garish turf —c-l-i-c-k— as I first set my eyes on Centre’s all-synthetic football surface.

Previously on M-Ex— The Muse comes through for me. (3/23/06)

Tomorrow— Local cyclists gather for a group ride…

Dr.Y

Avian augury

Wednesday, March 3rd, 2010

March Exercise V —day three— This time around, the discipline is less about the rigor of the clock and more about concentration and dispatch. My “vision homework” has become a key daily ritual, but hasn’t locked onto a consistent time yet. I have an alarm hopelessly stuck in my cell phone that nobody can figure out how to cancel, so I think that 11:30 am will likely become the scheduled time. Departure for a lap swim was upon me before I realized the morning was spent, and on my walk to Centre I saw an omen of oncoming spring, high up in my favorite tree at McDowell Park. In the afternoon I learned about a new advertising assignment in the “Jacob Series” for our bank client. Later, at the gathering of cycling advocates, I failed again to conceal my frustration concerning local officials. I’ve lost the fire for all the bureaucratic orchestration that I once found so intriguing.

Today’s sight bite— A treetop speckled with crows against a cotton-ball sky —c-l-i-c-k— and their robust “haw-haw” as the creatures salute me with a propitious fly-by.

Previously on M-Ex— Coffee-shop consultation with a friend no longer so close at hand. (3/3/07)

Tomorrow— Library time in my chambre serein…

The Elusive Red Crow

“Jonrik” is no more . . .

Friday, January 8th, 2010

jonrik cartoon

This is the last image I created in a partially successful effort to provide “cartoons to the editor,” in partnership with my pal, Rick. It’s from 2003, when several improbable events converged: Kentucky elected the first Republican governor in a generation, Saddam was captured in Iraq, Boyle County and Danville football teams concurrently won state championships for the third time, and local voters passed a liquor-by-the-drink ballot measure. The cartoon was rejected for unknown reasons. In retrospect, it does seen to violate one of the basic rules of editorial drawing— focus on a single, easy-to-grasp idea. Oh well, I still like that style, but it was too much work to continue for free.

Your houses . . .

Monday, August 17th, 2009

Help me into some house, Benvolio,
Or I shall faint. A plague o’ both your houses!
They have made worms’ meat of me: I have it,
And soundly too. Your houses!

—MERCUTIO, Romeo and Juliet: Act 3, Scene 1

If the president was the “real deal,” he would forcefully declare that it is dead wrong for members of Congress to characterize those opposed to his health care reforms as un-American, just as it was dead wrong to have claimed that anti-Bush protesters were unpatriotic in their objections to the war in Iraq. Thus, he would likely mitigate his declining popularity, but he seems more interested in his relationship with the House Left. Presumably, he won’t invite anyone to portray him as a critic of Democrat leaders. He must be worried about their prospects in next year’s mid-term elections, but, ironically, his allowing them to blunder forward unchecked is precisely what will lose seats for his party.

Saturday, May 2nd, 2009

jkemp.jpg



Jack Kemp
R
I
P

Ever onward

Thursday, March 26th, 2009

March exercise—day twenty-six— One of those days in the studio that was picked to its bones by loose ends and small, unforeseen developments. I learned that my Highway District machinations are bearing fruit (low-hanging, perhaps, with the nicer plums still out of reach). Marlene’s class was canceled, but I got the key to the room and did a solitary workout—my peculiar combination of Pilates, Yoga, and Aikido—following it up with some power-walk laps around the track. Old Hoosier ran off and sent Dana and me into the night with flashlights. We found him crossing the street a couple blocks away.

Today’s sight bite— The heavyset lady in her sweat-suit, sprinting up the stadium steps with an intrinsic athleticism —c-l-i-c-k— clearly submerged in her isolated determination to regain something lost.

Tomorrow— We begin again…

Cube farm

Wednesday, March 18th, 2009

March exercise—day eighteen— My contacts in the Transportation Cabinet invited me to make myself at home in the Planning Division for much of today, so I had an usual taste of what it might be like to experience the kind of day I’d have if I worked in the state capital. I got back to Danville in time for a 20-mile bike outing, which made for a solid day of “all things bicycle.”

Today’s sight bite— Dark birds at full wingspan —c-l-i-c-k— riding the updrafts against the entire Frankfort skyline.

Tomorrow— Back in the studio…

Halftime show

Sunday, March 15th, 2009

March exercise—day fifteen— Made some decent progress on a new safari artwork and prepared two final-number engravings that I’ll send on approval to a print collector. Accidentally spent time in front of the tube watching an art history program on the KET-ED digital channel. Realized I must never forget to learn even more about the roots of modern art. It dovetailed with our recent viewing of The Rape of Europa, one of the best documentaries I’ve seen in a long time. Dana produced art in the kitchen with a another day of fine meals. As usual, I am the fortunate beneficiary.

Today’s sight bite— A Sunday invasion of workmen and their equipment —c-l-i-c-k— executing a belated but welcome pick-up of our ice-storm waste heaps.

Tomorrow— Second-half buzzer sounds…

Measured gains

Thursday, March 5th, 2009

March exercise—day five— Improvements were recognized today on all fronts, but I don’t think I shall personally feel 100% for a bit more time. Bruce was doing a newspaper puzzle (a most welcome sign), but seems more concerned with solving the riddle of his unexpected plunge into such a perilous state. Brendan sent a heartwarming note of support. The County Judge and I secured an appointment in the state capital to visit with Transportation Cabinet people. Attended the reception at the Arts Center, learned more from David F about getting introduced to an art buyer, and met a very good pastel artist from Lexington. After that, Dana went to the New York Philharmonic performance with our Russian friend, Irina, another exceptionally creative individual.

Today’s sight bite— Bruce in his demeaning hospital garb —c-l-i-c-k— sitting on the edge of his bed in conversation with an ever-faithful mother.

Tomorrow— A new attempt at imposing the exercise…

Lost compression

Monday, March 2nd, 2009

March exercise—day two— If you want to watch the day blow a gasket, try imposing a rigid framework on it. We were at the hospital by midmorning, after learning that Bruce had been transferred to critical care in a state of acute delirium. I had to break away and respond to the County Judge Executive, who sought an immediate consultation on pressing “bicycle matters.” Have I actually become the local “go-to guy” on those issues? By the end of the day, it’s clear to us that Bruce is having an adverse reaction to medications he should not have been given—but nobody connected with his care seems willing to admit the obvious.

Today’s sight bite— The incomparable, gradient ultramarine of a pre-sunrise sky —c-l-i-c-k— crenelated from below by the jutting shapes of downtown commercial structures.

Tomorrow— Juggling the rituals of heightened awareness with the breaking developments of family crisis…

Tuesday, January 20th, 2009

bho.gif

Various & Sundry, part eighty-two

Tuesday, December 30th, 2008

— Month of November workout totals: Swim-4; Bike-2; Run-2; Lift-2; Yoga-0; Pilates-2; Lupus Drill-3

— Here it is, the tail end of December, without my making a full entry in well over a month. I suppose I haven’t had much to say, or maybe I’ve been bogged down in the same economic pessimism which seems to grip the country (and who needs to hear more of that?). Well, enough of procrastination. Let’s take an overdue look at some recent personal developments of a more positive nature:

— Bridget at Maker’s Mark® announced that The Mark of Great Art Website now lists the final disposition of our summer collection. Pursuit of Happiness is hanging at Cantaloupe (35 Charlotte Road, London) and The Mark of Stardom ended up at Toys (Calle Infanta Isabel, Madrid). I received good exposure in a feature about the London event, which was also used to raise money that provides visual art projects for people with mild-to-profound learning difficulties. You might agree that the article is not that well written, but who’s complaining? Those Brits don’t understand real English anyway, yuhknowhattahmean?

— I completed my newest wood engraving and returned to Larkspur for a day of printing on Gray’s antique Vandercook, a marvelous piece of equipment to which I’m blessed to be given access. No. 11 at the Paddock is derived from a digital I took at Keeneland during the recent Fall Meet. I also took the opportunity to finally create a numbered edition of Waiting for Joe, my first block under Wesley’s guidance. Needless to say, this low-res image is a poor representation of the actual engraving—

“No. 11 at the Paddock” by John Andrew Dixon

— Although my hope was to devise “The Original Joe’s Christmas Box” for our CAC’s holiday exhibition, I did manage to deliver Cosmic Cusp, a fusion of previous year-end compositions. I made the deadline in response to Dana’s suggestion, and the resulting piece is a stronger effect than the individual mixed-media components. That’s synergy for you!

— Sara Jane stopped by today to take her first look at my latest portrait commission, and it’s no exaggeration to report that she’s delighted with the result. Three Girlfriends is a departure for me. I haven’t worked with acrylics in ages, but I chose the medium for what I thought would be an appropriate interpretation of her original photograph. The picture of ladies posing dramatically on a beach suggested a series of translucent glazes to capture the luminosity of the morning surf, and lent itself to the back-lighting of the figures. I’m pleased that it worked out as well as it did, but I had the notion that if I patiently built up layers of thin color and milky washes on a smooth panel, I could avoid a brush-stroke technique (not my strong suit) and rely on years of experience handling liquid effects. I put in some necessary details with colored pencil, but the sealed acrylic surface made it more like “rubbing” tones and highlights, as opposed to typical drawing. In the final analysis, it proved to be a very interesting exploration.

— EKU’s Chitauqua Lecture Series Juried Art Exhibition (wow, that’s long) has once again favored one of my collage artworks. The upcoming “Freedom” show will include Fifteenth Cosmosaic, and I’m looking forward to the opening reception on January 23rd. As most people familiar with my work already understand, this series of spontaneous “mystical” compositions originated with graduation presents for my nieces and nephews. I’ve never been certain about how it might appeal to a public audience, but perhaps this is a good indicator.

— Three years ago I wrote about Paula, who lost a bout with cancer too early in life. During that time, the KBBC worked to find a way to put to good use the proceeds from the sale of the “Share the Road” specialty license plate. On December 11th, we finally had our public announcement of The Paula Nye Memorial Education Grants for bicyclist and pedestrian safety.Paula Nye Grants The endorsement of our effort by the Transportation Cabinet and current administration was not a foregone inevitability, but when they realized: A) Thousands of plate buyers had made a voluntary contribution to help make Kentucky roadways friendlier to non-motorized travel; B) The Commission’s intent to independently administer the allocation of funds would cost the state nothing; and C) The grant program was a fitting tribute to an employee who had worked to diligently promote highway accommodations for bicyclists and pedestrians … How could they not support our concept? To their credit, the Lieutenant Governor and the Mayor of Lexington were at the Horse Park for our kick-off event. Strangely enough, David D, the public information professional who had shown enthusiasm for our project from the beginning and had orchestrated the media splash, died suddenly at work a couple weeks before the scheduled announcement, and that made the event even more tinged with emotion than anyone could have expected.

— I came back to the Blue Bank Farm this month with a muzzleloader and tried my best to close the season with some venison. Didn’t spy a single white-tail, but had to hear about Greystone’s Astrea dragging in a ruined ten-pointer that somebody failed to successfully track after the shot. Such was my luck as a hunter this time around. I haven’t enjoyed being in the woods this much for goodness knows how long, plus I had the rare opportunity to hike the knobs with brother Fron, as we marked boundary lines and plotted a mutual strategy for selective logging throughout our holdings. I have no good excuse for not connecting my soul with the land on a more regular basis. I allow myself to forget how much I will always love those acres. Folly!

— There is much room for gratitude and optimism in the coming cycle. Nevertheless, there are many significant challenges for all of us to face in 2009. I know a guy as old as me who has been retired from GM for eight years. He’s a nice man, but did he genuinely work hard enough during 20 years of employment to deserve a big income and benefits from the age of 48 until he dies? That could easily be twice the number of years he put in as a worker, or, if he takes care of himself, even more. Now, it’s one thing to dodge Taliban rockets in God-cursed terrain. In my book those brave Americans have earned a more-than-decent pension. But assembling ugly, inefficient cars that most thoughtful people would rather not drive? That’s “a horse of a different color.” Our nation would’ve surely crashed decades ago if all corporations had been managed as poorly as the Detroit auto companies. And they want to continue juicing the taxpayers to avoid restructuring under bankruptcy? Now, that’s what I call audacity.

V & S

Tuesday, November 4th, 2008

defeated.gif

Various & Sundry, part eighty

Thursday, October 16th, 2008

— Month of September workout totals: Swim-5; Bike-3; Run-2; Lift-0; Yoga-1; Pilates-2; Lupus Drills-0

— With my bicycle miles winding down, I’m adapting again to the Pilates routine, and the pool is beginning to feel like the best place to be for a satisfying workout. Tradesmen were replacing the lane blocks today, and the slender gal on duty was trying to tell me to avoid splashing their work area, but her voice was so soft I could barely hear her, even when she was standing close by. These students are technically lifeguards, but I wonder how often they look up from their assigned reading to see if a fiftysomething guy like me is on the bottom with a cardiac spazz-out. I’ve seen some fairly hefty dudes swimming laps in there, too, but I shouldn’t criticize, since I was a pool guard back in the day. One time I did have to pull a guy to the side who outweighed me, but it’s not like making a “save” in a pool is honest-to-goodness lifeguard work, compared to a lake or surf monitor. That would be like the difference between a first responder at a warehouse blaze and a homeowner putting out a grass fire with his garden hose.

— The deli on Fourth Street has taken a new turn and become the most interesting hangout in town. (I haven’t been within walking distance of a tap with Stella since living in Bruxelles as a callow youth.) Dana and I were down there having a chat with Geri about software upgrades, and I found myself talking like a proponent of “vintage systems.” Perhaps that’s because I’ve been making do with applications that suit my fluency, but are clearly a few notches off the cutting edge. Sometimes new means better, but not necessarily; it’s become a risky practice to make that assumption. Our friend Pat, an experienced user, and Victoria’s brother, a novice, are both living through a nightmare with their Vista operating system upgrades. People are talking about how Bob Staake illustrated a recent New Yorker cover using Photoshop version 3 on a Mac running OS7. Hey, we had our nearly 40-year-old Hobart refurbished this summer, and nobody will convince us that it isn’t far superior to anything built today. Old is the new New!

— My story about meeting Johnny Crawford was recently added to Ginia’s tribute site. She’s a very nice person. I like her quotation from Mark Twain: “A cat that sits on a hot stove, will not sit on a hot stove again. He will not sit on a cold one either.” Also found a connection at her MySpace page that Joan will get a kick out of: The all new DonGrady.com!

— I had fun creating a piece for the Library’s recent call for artwork. The opening reception for the resulting exhibit was tonight, and Nancy M won the best of show with her outstanding felt composition. Julius F was the juror, and he selected items for merit awards and honorable mention. He didn’t recognize my entry, but the collage, Cascade of Knowledge, was among those works library representatives chose for purchase and display in the new facility. This pleases me, because I produced it with the library setting in mind, hoping it would appeal to them.

— Bruce had a great letter to the editor in the paper the other day. Maybe his best so far.

— We never removed the old-fashioned TV antennas from our rooftop. I always liked the period look they gave to the dwelling, and besides, they were virtually inaccessible. Yesterday I climbed up there and installed an amplifier and new line for digital signals, without falling or electrocuting myself. By george it worked, just in time to watch the pie maker and the presidential debate.

— We always heard stories about how local county government had been interested in bidding for our downtown building on the 1988 auction day we won the Town House. That was nearly 20 years ago, and, for most of that time, we didn’t think much about it or suspect there was any continued interest. And then, with a flurry of new judicial centers being funded over the past few years, we began to hear rumors—too many to suit me—so I sought confirmation or denial from the Judge Executive. He admitted that the option to take our lot by condemnation to create the footprint for a court-system expansion had been discussed in his presence. Although he would not pledge to oppose the idea on my behalf, he declared that it was not his preferred course of action. I let him know how strongly I felt about my desire to keep our home and business location intact, here on historic West Broadway. Recently I shared the information at our annual neighborhood “Block Party.” With the current fiscal constraints on state government and the backlash against perceived extravagances in some of the judicial centers recently constructed, the mood may be slightly in our favor, but it’s difficult to shove the unpleasant possibility from the back of my mind, and the uncertainty works against the necessary enthusiasm to undertake improvement projects and the confidence to continue investing in our property.

V & S

Various & Sundry, part seventy-eight

Friday, August 1st, 2008

— Month of July workout totals: Swim-0; Bike-8; Run-2; Lift-1; Yoga-0; Pilates-0; Lupus Drills-0

— In spite of my best cross-training intentions, the season has shaped up to be a one-note story: bicycling. Hmm… a summer without swimming? —preposterous! This means I have only one month to prepare for the challenging waters of the Les Cheneaux.

— For the first time since my appointment as a member of the Kentucky Bicycle and Bikeway Commission, our advisory group was granted a consultation with the Secretary of the Transportation Cabinet. Although we prepared for the meeting with some trepidation about how we would be “handled,” the session went about as well as could be hoped for, given the agency’s history of resistance to bicyclist accommodations. People with long experience in Frankfort view it as a “government within a government,” and our own relations with the Cabinet has been strained, due to our independent spirit, frank recommendations, and candor with the constituencies we are mandated to represent. On top of that, the key position of Bicycle/Pedestrian Coordinator has been vacant since January, and we’ve made no secret of our opposition to any plan to downgrade the job description. I was encouraged by the Secretary’s open-minded attitude and the clear indication that this Administration is beginning to view bicycling as a meaningful component of their strategic priorities for economic competitiveness, health improvement, and tourism promotion. I must admit that, after last year’s election, I’ve struggled to remain hopeful about Kentucky pulling itself out of the bottom ten percent of bicycle friendly states, but on Tuesday I became more optimistic about these new folks running state government. I don’t agree with them on many issues, but they just might be coming around on something close to my heart.

— Ely Dixon is back from Africa, of course, but I’ve decided to leave her blog among my links. Cousin Dan is sharing this Web video summarizing her time in Tanzania. He warns, “The video quality is spotty at times.”

— The only time I witnessed Jon Brasfield in performance, I think I was more focused on waiting for a Brendan bongo solo that never transpired. Later, I came to appreciate Jon’s abilities as a musician, especially after listening to Ghost Town for the first time. Over the past week, my regard for him and his mate Amanda has gone totally off the scale. If you haven’t been following The Saga of Baby Jude, you’ve been missing what has to be one of the most phenomenal feats of blogger poise ever.

V & S

Sunday, July 13th, 2008



Robert Anthony Snow
Was there a finer man
on the national stage?

Cheston vs Billary

Monday, May 19th, 2008

The tribute issue of American Rifleman came in the mail today, and I got a lump in my throat when I saw the cover. I’ll prefer to remember this as Chuck’s day, and not when Slick arrived in Danville to seduce the Wendell Ford Democrats. After Gore fell short in November 2000, Clinton immediately blamed the NRA and its leader. At the time I was still displaying a bumper sticker on my truck that stated, “My President is Charlton Heston.”

Critical impressions

Wednesday, May 14th, 2008

I remember writing in my journal about the first time I attended a Chamber of Commerce banquet in Danville, and finding it a powerfully positive experience, as I acclimated to a new community. Cliff and Jeanne were there, and the keynote speaker was a newspaper columnist from Louisville. It seemed as though everybody present knew him, except for me. Another thing I remember is how perceptive and funny he was. Here was a nice guy who had grown up along the Hanging Fork, who had gone to the big city, and who had made it big. I now believe that the perspective he shared that evening influenced how I would come to perceive the people of my newly adopted state. If I was wondering, “Just who are these Kentuckians?”—and surely I must have been—I could have done a lot worse than listen to the keen observations of Mr. Byron Crawford.

He called me yesterday for a phone interview, as he prepared to write a bike-to-work piece for his column in the Courier-Journal. On the eve of my annual conclave with the Kentucky Bicycle and Bikeway Commission, it’s interesting to think that my desire to make a mark on the quality of life in this Commonwealth might in no small way trace back to that night nearly twenty years ago when Byron came to town.

Birthday weather! (for a spell . . .)

Monday, April 28th, 2008

When Dana and I walked to campus for our midday workout, I claimed it as official “birthday weather.” It was sunny and warm, with just a touch of coolness in the breeze—perfect. I even asked the pool lady to unlock the patio door at the natatorium, just so I could go outside in my speedos for a bit and inaugurate the season. One must be dutiful in attending to these annual rituals. Bruce rode his bike in the afternoon, and we did some garage reorganizing together before the rain clouds blew in. He gave me an early gift of Gene Wolfe editions, since Dana and I intend to spend the day in Lexington tomorrow. Terie stopped by to hug her Pop. Later, the mayor called, and we had a long conversation about his efforts to establish a bicyclist/pedestrian committee for the city. Curious how some in the community choose to balk at such a straightforward idea. Three new art projects have just come my way, and I’m finally positioned to make the push to complete the Brady portrait, so there is much room for gratitude on the eve of my “exceeding the speed limit,” as a certain senior companion likes to characterize it.

Various & Sundry, part seventy-four

Monday, April 14th, 2008

— As a kid, I think I first heard about Rube Goldberg from Mombo, and, although I never investigated his career in detail, he became another piece of supporting evidence with which I built the notion that I could grow up to be a cartoonist. The other day I was talking to a friend and fellow advisory board member at The Salvation Army HQ and learned he’d just attended the Rube Goldberg Machine Contest at Purdue University, where his grandson is an engineering student. Relying on their solid “home court advantage,” the Purdue team kept the prize at home for the third time in the last four years. My cousin Joe’s daughter, Michelle, goes to school at Purdue, but I’ve never asked him about her area of concentration.

Watchmen is without a doubt the most satisfying “comic book” I’ve encountered since Joan and I discovered the story of “Superman-Red and Superman-Blue” at Pam and Lori’s house back in the 1960s. To call it a comic book will be off-target for those unfamiliar with the Hugo Award winning publication, which TIME Magazine included in its 2005 list of “the 100 best English-language novels from 1923 to the present.” When Brendan found out I’d never seen it, he dropped off a copy during his cross-country road trip. Thanks, NB. You know what I like.

— In less than a month, my level of inner peace, tenuous at best in this stage of life, was shaken twice. First I learned about my Godfather’s death in Ohio, which brought a deep sense of personal loss. I looked over some of his characteristic letters about dogs and gardening and things, traveling north with Dana to represent my Clan at a family service in St. Marys. Then came the aftershock news of Charlton Heston’s demise, a different kind of sadness, having of my own volition attached my spirit to his particular brand of patriotism many years ago. I took comfort in reading again the short letter he sent me around the time of his last public announcement. It was a personal note of appreciation for my having mailed him, over a period of years, a series of handmade birthday greetings. Greater consolation came in a message from my own Godson about my Uncle Don, and the statements Nic and his brother Seth made at Facebook about their regard for Mr. Heston, including recollections of meeting him with some of us who attended his book signing in Lexington. It was heartening to know that men of the next generation will value his enduring contribution to safeguarding the array of civil liberties we enjoy as Americans. Two resolutions honoring Mr. Heston—H.Res. 1091 by Congressman Don Young (R-AK), and S.Res. 512 by Senator Jim DeMint (R-SC)—were introduced this week in the two houses of Congress.

Joan’s blogging has set a recent standard that can only be described as outstanding, and I need to regain my rhythm. Much to report about events in March and my current activities, but the emphasis remains with daily efforts to spin straw into gold. A life engaged in hustling after the next buck just seems to be the governing principle, or, as Mombo used to say when I rubbed the morning “sleepers” from my eyes:
Another day; another dollar…

V & S

Various & Sundry, part seventy-three

Tuesday, April 1st, 2008

— Month of March workout totals: Swim-1; Bike-3; Run-4; Lift-3; Yoga-0; Pilates-5; Lupus-3

— Another constructive “March Experiment” is under my belt, but it may be no longer accurate to call it an experiment. In its current form, the regimen has become more of an annual exercise. Perhaps next time around I shall discover and impose a breakthrough to make it truly experimental again.

— Brendan stopped by today on his way west (Way, Way West), and it felt good to personally wish him Godspeed. He loaned me his copy of Watchmen, and we also talked a bit about The Book of the New Sun. I asked him if he’d packed plenty of listening material. He said he would be playing his CD of a popular presidential candidate reciting “99 Bottles.” (Yeah, that last thing was a lame April Fool’s joke. I got Dana with a much better one this morning.)

— With the price of gold hovering near a generational high, the Graybeard Prospector turned over a new leaf last month, using every trick he could think of to see if he might stake some new claims. In the process, he connected with some new friends and old, including one from the Cincinnati days. His former pal Ray is working on a book with photographs of drive-through expresso shacks, which apparently are a feature of the American Northwest. Based on this information, it looks like Nephew B has hit the trail for the caffeine mother lode. We’ll see if he can stay clean and somber.

Five years ago — 4/1/03
— When will the turning point in the war come, and will we even recognize it when it does? Today the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs made an animated defense of Rumsfeld, Franks, and the war plan, in response to aggressive media criticism. It’s amazing to me how the press is behaving at a time of war… Today Dana and I had lunch at the Carnegie Club, listening to a superb presentation by Vince about the music of Duke Ellington, but a lot of it was autobiographical. He talked more than I expected about his youth and evolution as a musician, as well as his attitude toward teaching—clearly the real passion for him.

Ten years ago — 4/2/98
— The new Mac is sitting on a chair in the conference room, unpacked but unplugged. The workload is just now easing up enough to consider tearing into our current configuration… It’s time for me to set it up. I should be more excited, but I usually feel this way—a bit nervous—when I have to disrupt an existing system. The excitement will come later.

V & S